1. I am here expanding upon Sarah Beckwith's insistence that Christ's body is “the place where God materializes most insistently” and is “the arena where social identity was negotiated, where the relationship of self and society, subjectivity and social process found a point of contact and conflict” (Beckwith, Sarah, Christ's Body: Identity, Culture and Society in Late Medieval Writings [New York: Routledge, 1993], 23Google Scholar). Peter Travis also advocates the absolute centrality of the body of Christ as the “archetype and axis mundi toward which all other medieval bodies gravitate and from which they are understood to derive their being…[B]ecause all Christian bodies partake of and participate in the Body of Christ, the relationship among these bodies is more than analogical or metaphoric. … At the highest ontological level that participation of part with whole is transubstantiated into the Eucharistic equations of sacramental identity: All become one with Christ's body; Christ's body becomes one with all others” (Travis, Peter, “The Social Body of the Dramatic Christ in Medieval England,” Early Drama to 1600, Acta XIII [1985], 17–36Google Scholar).

2. See Raine, James, ed., The Historians of the Church of York and its Archbishops (London: Longman, 1879), 328–330Google Scholar; and Acta Sanctorum, 7 May (Antwerp, 1680), 166–194Google Scholar.

3. Chambers, E.K., The Medieval Stage (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1903), 2:338–339Google Scholar; Young, Karl, The Drama of the Medieval Church (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1933), 2:439–540Google Scholar; Leach, A.F., “Some English Plays and Players 1220–1548,” in An English Miscellany Presented to Dr. Furnival (Oxford, 1901)Google Scholar; Wyatt, Diana, “Performance and Ceremonial in Beverley Before 1642,” Ph.D. diss., University of York, 1983, 410–414Google Scholar.

4. Cawley, A.C., “The Staging of Medieval Drama,” in The Revels History of Drama in English, vol. 1Google Scholar, Medieval Drama, Cawley, A.C., Jones, Marion, McDonald, Peter F., and Mills, David, eds. (London: Methuen, 1983), 13–14Google Scholar.

5. Kobialka, Michal, “Corpus Mysticum et Representationem: Hildegard of Bingen's Scivias and Ordo Virtutum,” Theatre Survey 37:1 (1996): 1CrossRefGoogle Scholar, and see esp. 3. See also Gibson, Gail McMurray, The Theatre of Devotion: East Anglian Drama and Society in the Late Middle Ages (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989)Google Scholar.

6. “If read in the right way,” writes Gordon Watley, “with the right questions asked of them, such collections can yield large amounts of information about medieval social classes, disease and medicine, and local customs, as well as about pilgrimages and other religious practices,” “Opus Dei, Opus Mundi: Patterns of Conflict in a Twelfth-Century Miracle Collection,” in De Cella in Seculum: Religious and Secular Life and Devotion in Late Medieval England, ed. Sargent, Michael G. (Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 1989), 82Google Scholar. For an example of the dismissive attitude of historians toward “superstitious beliefs” such as miracles in favor of “observation” or “reliable information,” see Gransden, Antonia, Historical Writing In England: circa 1307 to the early sixteenth century (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1982), 49, 131, 141, 341Google Scholar.

7. Saint John of Beverley (A.D. 721) was educated under the Abbot Adrian at the school of Saint Theodore, Archbishop of Canterbury. He entered the monastery of Whitby, governed by the abbess Hilda, upon his return to the North. John founded the monastery of Beverley, dedicated to John the Baptist, in the midst of a wood called Deirwald (forest of Deira) among the deserted Roman settlement of Peturia; he died there in 721. Folcard (or Fulcard) is the principle source of information on St. John, though he makes extensive use of Bede. Folcard migrated to Canterbury during the reign of Edward the Confessor (975–978) and was made abbot of Thorney after the Conquest. Folcard's narrative is reproduced in full in Raine, Historians, 239–260.

8. For further discussion of the Minster, its patrons, and Saint John, see The Victoria History of the Counties of England: A History of the County of York East Riding (Borough and Liberties of Beverley), ed. Allison, K.J. (Oxford: Oxford University Press for the Institute of Historical Research, 1989), 2–16Google Scholar (hereafter VCH).

9. King Athelstan, according to Folcard, visited Beverley in 934 on his way to battle in Scotland. He later attributed his 937 victory over the Scots to the power of Saint John. Folcard's circumstantial account credits Athelstan with establishing a college of secular canons at Beverley and with endowing the town with land and the privileges of sanctuary (VCH, 3; Keith Miller, John Robinson, Barbara English, and Ivan Hall, Beverley: An Archaeological and Architectural Study. Royal Commission on Historical Manuscripts, Supplementary Series 4 [London: HMSO, 1982], 7–8). The period that saw the writing of Saint John's Vita also saw major rebuilding of the Minster and its associated buildings along with the granting of the first recorded charter to the town by Edward the Confessor, which declared that the archbishop of York was the town's sole lord under the King, and the Minster was to be as free as any other Minster.

10. Raine guesses c. 1150 (Historians, 54, 261–291).

11. Raine, Historians, Appendix I (circa 1170–1180), 293–320; Appendix II (date uncertain), 321–325; Appendix III (circa 1208–1213), 327–347. The Cotton MS from which Raine transcribes Folcard and Ketell ends with Ketell's list of miracles. For the texts of the appendices, Raine uses the Acta Sanctorum, 7 May (Antwerp, 1680) 166–194Google Scholar, printed from an English MS which was subsequently lost. In 1981, the British Library acquired a fourteenth-or fifteenth-century MS of the Beverley Cartulary that contains Folcard's Vita, Ketell's miracles, and the three appendices, including the play miracle account (British Library MS Add. 61901). I have compared Add. 61901 to Raine's edition of the Bollandists' entry; the variances are many but minor (punctuation and Latin abbreviation expansions principally—possibly a product of nineteenth-century translation practices). The appendix that accompanies this article is a reprinting of Raine's edition. The translation provided is principally Wyatt's authoritative work on Raine's Latin with some alterations suggested to me by Siân Echard and Gernot Wieland. Ian Doyle provides a description and synopsis of the British Library MS Add. 61901 as Appendices I and II to Morris, Richard and Cambridge, Eric, “Beverley Minster Before the Early Thirteenth Century,” in Medieval Art and Architecture in the East Riding of Yorkshire, ed. Wilson, Christopher (Leeds: The British Archaeological Association Conference Transactions for the year 1983, 1989), 20–27Google Scholar.

12. David Jeffrey discusses this very Augustinian notion of the human writer as a scribe and translator with reference, specifically, to Dante, in his By Things Seen: Reference and Recognition in Medieval Thought (Ottawa: University of Ottawa Press, 1979), 10–12Google Scholar.

13. For an exploration of the formula used in the description of miracles generally, see Sigal, P.A., “Maladie, Pèlerinage et Guérison au XII Siècle,” Annales ESC 24 (1969): 522–539Google Scholar.

14. “Cum ad fidei corroborationem, et Christinae religionis incrementum, crebra inter fideles ab Omnipotente Deo fiant miracula, timendum est, ne ingratitudinis arguantur et negligentiae qui ea pertransierunt, conticendo sub arcano silentii quae ad Creatoris laudem et ad fidelium utilitatem in propatulo merentur et exigunt praedicari. Confitetur namque Psalmista se non abscondisse Dei justitiam in corde suo, non celasse misericordiam et veritatem Suam a concilio multo. Ex quo plane colligitur quod non sit abscondenda Divina misericordia, non reticenda Divinae miserationis opera, verum ad laudem et honorem nominis Suis devote publicanda. Cum igitur Dominus frequenti miraculorum ostensione et Seipsum clarificet, et sanctum confessorem Suum Johannem mirificare non cesset, quaedam illorum proferre libet in medium, et paginae commendata ad memoriam transfundere posterorum. Ad universorum namque enarrationem quae Divinitus gesta sunt intra spatium quinquenne, fateor imperitiam locutionis meae nequaquam sufficere. Animandos sane spero ad cultum Divinum, et ad sanctum Confessorem obnixius venerandum, qui ad audienda quae per ispum gesta sunt miracula, patulum converterint auditum, et diligentem adhibuerint intellectum. Veruntamen in praesenti narratione nec sermonem exspectent accuratum, nec promposas verborum phaleras, quibus obfuscari renuit nudae veritatis amica simplicitas. Non est enim in hujuscemodi eloquio, vel inani gloriae, vel temporali inhiandum emolumento; juxta illud quod legitur in Levitico, Qui dederit de semine suo idolo Moloch, morte moriatur, et lapidabit eum omnis populus terrae. Sed hoc hactenus.” Raine, Historians, 327–28. The biblical texts alluded to in the passage are Psalms 40:10–11 and Leviticus 20:2.

The following English translation is by Siân Echard: “Since, for the corroboration of the faith, and the increase of the Christian religion, frequent miracles arise among the faithful, by [the grace of] Almighty God, it is to be feared, lest they are proven to be negligent and ungrateful through concealing those [miracles] which abounded under a cover of silence; things which deserve and [indeed] require to be preached in public, to the praise of the Creator and for the utility of the faithful. For the Psalmist confesses that he has not hidden the justice of God in his heart, he has not concealed His mercy and truth from the great congregation. From which it is clearly understood that Divine mercy is not to be hidden, [nor] are the workings of Divine pity to fall silent, but indeed are to be published devoutly to the praise and honour of his name. Since therefore the Lord, through the frequent showing of miracles, both reveals Himself and does not cease to make wonderful His holy confessor John, it is pleasing to publish [some] of them, for the common good, and committing [them] to pages, to transfuse [them] into the memory of posterity. But I confess that the inexpertness of my speech is in no way sufficient for the telling of the whole of those things which happened providentially in the space of five years. Truly I hope that those who, at the hearing of the miracles which occurred through him, moved to the worship of God and the veneration of his Confessor, will turn [them] into public hearing and display [them] to a diligent understanding. Nevertheless in this present narration let them neither look for studied speech, nor for the pompous adornments of words, by which the pleasing simplicity of naked truth refuses to be obscured. For there is no profit in eloquence of this sort, nor in vainglory, nor in worldly astonishment. According to that which is read in Leviticus: Whoever shall give of his seed to the idol Moloch, he shall be killed to death, and the whole people of the earth shall stone him. But this so far.”

15. David Jeffrey, in his introduction to By Things Seen, summarizes the three most important aspects of Christian epistemology in the Middle Ages as: “1) an acceptance of the natural as, in the root sense, significant; 2) a tendency to see any element of created order as nevertheless known only in part and therefore (explicitly or implicitly) to look for and refer it for understanding to a more perfect model; and 3) increasing emphasis on, and optimism about, the process of learning.” By proceeding this way, the medieval Christian is “invited to begin where he is in the middle, and to come by exploration and discovery to a place where, by reference to another text, he can read and affirm the design of the Book [in] which is written, not merely his own small part in one limited chapter” (By Things Seen, 1). For further discussion of medieval sign theory, particularly as it emerges from Augustine, see Reiss, Edmond, “Ambiguous Signs and Authorial Deceptions in Fourteenth-Century Fictions,” in Sign, Sentence, Discourse: Language in Medieval Thought and Literature, eds. Wasserman, Julian N. and Roney, Lois (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1989), 113–137Google Scholar; and Vance, Eugene, Mervelous Signals: Poetics and Sign Theory in the Middle Ages (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1986)Google Scholar.

16. Lefebvre, Henri, The Production of Space, trans. Nicholson-Smith, Donald (Oxford: Blackwell, 1991), 259–262Google Scholar. Lefebvre defines “True” space as the imagined renderings of environment postulated by classical philosophy and medieval theology that bury the vestiges of human creativity beneath abstract conceptualizations of history that fashion community constituency according to exclusive understandings of membership. According to Lefebvre, urban oligarchs of the Middle Ages turned the space that preceded it, the “absolute” space of the biological/corporeal “world,” upon its head and instead “proclaimed a benevolent and luminous utopia”—the town. See Production, 256. These acts of incorporation were both determined and legitimated by representations of social space that establish the principles of inclusivity and exclusivity that allow transformation to be conceptualized, to be talked about, and to be understood in an institutional context (i.e., the church). See also the analysis of Lefebvre in Harvey's, DavidThe Condition of Postmodernity (Oxford: Blackwell, 1989), 218Google Scholar; and Gregory's, DerekGeographical Imaginations (Oxford: Blackwell, 1994), 403Google Scholar.

17. Boureau, Alain, “The Sacrality of One's Own Body in the Middle Ages,” Yale French Studies 86 (1994), 6Google Scholar; Beckwith, Christ's Body, 76.

18. Morris and Cambridge, 15.

19. Christopher Wilson notes that the date of 21–22 September 1188 for the fire was given on a lead plaque found in 1664 in Saint John's original tomb. See Dugdale, William, The Visitation of the County of York, ed. Davies, R.. (Surtees Soc. 46, 1892), 22Google Scholar. Wilson also notes that the delay between the 1188 fire and the search for the relics in the tomb “surely reflects the minor importance of the latter compared to the relics in the main shrine near the high altar, where they had been since the 1060s.” The 1197 opening probably occurred in connection with a reconstruction of the tomb following the completion of the repairs to the nave after the fire. (“The Early Thirteenth-Century Architecture of Beverley Minster: Cathedral Splendours and Cistercian Austerities,” in Coss, P.R. and Lloyd, S.D., eds., Thirteenth Century England III, proceedings of the Newcastle upon Tyne Conference, Woodbridge, Suffolk: Boydell, 1991), 181–195Google Scholar. For further discussion of the Minster's architectural history, see Miller, Robinson, English and Hall, Beverley, 7–15. For discussion on the relationship between the translation of saints' relics and the proliferation of miracles, see Sigal, Maladie, 1538.

20. The other accounts in the appendix relevant to Cambridge's argument include a chronicle of the rebellion of 1213 in which soldiers sought protection at Beverley. Their lord demanded their release, but the church authorities refused. The nobleman threatened to destroy the Minster, but, upon making his attack, his foot was miraculously burned. A second nobleman then attempted to break the sanctuary privileges of the Minster and vowed further to plunder its fabric. This man suddenly died (Raine, Historians, 337–42). Another account tells of a light shining from the tomb of Saint John. All theories to explain the light were dispelled, and it was concluded that the sighting was indeed miraculous (Raine, Historians, 342–344).

21. Morris and Cambridge, “Beverley Minster,” 9–32; Wilson, “The Early Thirteenth-Century,” 182–183 n. 8; von Simson, Otto, The Gothic Cathedral, Origins of Gothic Architecture and the Medieval Concept of Order (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1956, reprint, 1984), 10Google Scholar.

22. For further discussion of the relationship between the body and text in the Middle Ages, see Yale French Studies special issue, Corps Mystique, Corps Sacré: Textual Transfigurations of the Body from the Middle Ages to the Seventeenth Century, ed. Jaouën, Françoise and Semple, Benjamin, Yale French Studies 86 (1994)Google Scholar.

23. Beckwith, Christ's Body, 41.

24. Beckwith, Christ's Body, 61.

25. English translation by Diana Wyatt. For the complete text in the Latin original and in English translation, see the Appendix that follows the endnotes.

26. See Davidson, Clifford, ed., A Tretise of Miraclis Pleyinge (Kalamazoo, MI: Medieval Institute Publications, 1993), 5Google Scholar; Davis, Nicholas M., “Art of Memory and Medieval Dramatic Theory,” EDAM Newsletter 6:1 (1993):l–3Google Scholar; and Yates, F., The Art of Memory (London: Routledge, 1966), 55Google Scholar.

27. McDonald, Peter, “Drama in the Church,” in The Revels History of Drama in English, vol. 1, Medieval Drama, ed. Cawley, A.C., Jones, Marion, McDonald, Peter F., and Mills, David (London: Methuen, 1983), 108–109Google Scholar.

28. Cawley, “The Staging of Medieval Drama,” 13–14.

29. Chambers, E.K., The Medieval Stage, 2:82–84Google Scholar. The mansions required for La Seinte Resureccion, according to the prologue of the Paris MS, are the crucifix, the tomb, the jail, Heaven, and Hell. The prologue adds that the lake of Galilee with Emmaus is to be arranged in the middle of the open space. The Canterbury MS of the play (also a fragment) extends the list by adding to these the tower of David and possibly a structure associated with Bartholomew. For the complete text of La Seinte Resureccion, see Jenkins, T. Atkinson, Manley, J.M., Pope, Mildred K., and Wright, Jean G., eds., Anglo-Norman Texts 4 (Oxford: Anglo-Norman Text Society, 1943)Google Scholar. For further discussion of the staging, see Nagler, A.M., The Medieval Religious Stage: Shapes and Phantoms (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1976), 3–5Google Scholar.

30. Hardison, O.B. Jr., Christian Rite and Christian Drama in the Middle Ages (Baltimore: John Hopkins Press, 1965), 271, 282Google Scholar.

31. Hardison, 271.

32. Garner, Stanton B. Jr., Bodied Spaces: Phenomenology and Performance in Contemporary Drama (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1994), 39–40Google Scholar.

33. Garner, , Bodied Spaces, 40–41, 44Google Scholar.

34. A Tretise of Miraclis Pleyinge, 113, 95.

35. See Aelred of Rievaulx, Speculum Charitatis 2:33, as quoted in translation by Schueller, Herbert M., The Idea of Music: An Introduction of Musical Aesthetics in Antiquity and the Middle Ages, Early Drama, Art and Music, Monograph Ser. 9 (Kalamazoo: Medieval Institute Publications, 1988), 355Google Scholar; for the Latin text, see Young, Karl, The Drama of the Medieval Church (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1933), 1:548Google Scholar. See also Morrison, Karl F., “The Church as Play: Gerhoch of Reichersberg's Call for Reform,” in Popes, Teachers, and Canon Law in the Middle Ages, ed. Sweeney, James Ross and Chodorow, Stanley (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1989), 135nGoogle Scholar; Chambers, , The Medieval Stage, 2:98–99, 2:99nGoogle Scholar; all of these references are as cited by Davidson, A Tretise of Miraclis Pleyinge, 39.

36. Tretise, 96.

37. Garner, Bodied Spaces, 26.

38. Tretise, 99.

39. McMurray Gibson, Theatre of Devotion, 7.

40. Garner, Bodied Spaces, 43–47.

41. Hardison, Christian Rite, 264–274; Resureccion, 118.

42. See Graves, C. Pamela, “Social Space in the English Medieval Parish Church,” Economy and Society 18 (1989), 309CrossRefGoogle Scholar. Robert of Brunne's translation of William of Waddington's thirteenth-century Manuel de Peches attacks churchyard plays as presented on the devil's side of the church (Robert Mannying of Brunne, Handlyng Synne, ed. Sullens, Idelle (Binghampton: Center for Medieval and Early Renaissance Studies, 1983), 117–118, 225Google Scholar.

43. Bynum, Caroline Walker, The Resurrection of the Body in Western Christianity, 200–1336 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1995), 11–12, 198–199Google Scholar.

44. Lefebvre defines material spatial practices as perceivable actions such as boundaries, walls, roads, networks, administrative structures, laws, and prohibitions that assign to individual subjects a place proper to them by restricting physical and social interaction. Representational spaces are both physical constructs and conceptual domains as they are directly lived by their inhabitants; they are the spaces dominated by material spatial practice that pedestrian usage seeks to change and appropriate; they arise from the clandestine side of social life and imaginatively challenge accepted representations of space (Lefebvre, Production, 33, 38–39, 245–46).

45. Beckwith notes that the ecclesiastical use of this term originally referred to the consecrated host, not the church of Christian society, “However, in the mid-twelfth century its meaning changes, for the church needs a doctrinal formulation which will be of use against heretical doctrines which tended to dematerialize the sacrament of the altar. The corpus mysticum becomes the phrase which expresses the doctrine that the church is the ‘organized body of Christian society united in the sacrament of the altar’” (Beckwith, 31). Beckwith is here citing Ernst Kantorowicz's influential work, The King's Two Bodies (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1957) 196Google ScholarPubMed.

46. Beckwith, Sarah, “Ritual, Church and Theatre: Medieval Dramas of the Sacramental Body,” in Culture and History 1350–1600, ed. Aers, David (London: Harvester Wheatsheaf, 1992), 66, 76Google Scholar.

47. Beckwith also notes that clerical control over the significance of Christ's body was “further destabilized” by the “democratizing lay tendencies of late medieval piety.” Christ's body is for this very reason “by the late Middle ages (if it has not always been) a fundamentally unstable image, a site of conflict where the clerical and the lay meet and fight it out, borrowing from each other's discourses” (Beckwith, Christ's Body, 32). For further discussion of the body of Christ as figured in medieval Eucharistic and Resurrection piety, see Rubin, Miri, Corpus Christi: The Eucharist in Late Medieval Culture (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991)Google Scholar.

48. See, for example, Panofsky, Erwin, Gothic Architecture and Scholasticism (New York: New American Library, 1957), 44–45Google Scholar, which argues that the spatial arrangement of the Gothic church corresponds to the great work of creation. See also Biélier, André, Architecture in Worship, trans. Odette, and Elliott, Donald (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1965)Google Scholar and Holder, Arthur G., “Allegory and History in Bede's Interpretation of Sacred Architecture,” The American Benedictine Review 40:2 (1989): 115–131Google Scholar. Lefebvre takes Panofsky's argument further to argue that the architectural features of the Gothic cathedral implied an “emergence” or a “decrypting” of the space that went before. “Organized with the greatest care, these high and highly worked surfaces were strictly governed by the Church's commands: Law, Faith, Scripture. The living, naked body had a very limited role: Eve, Adam, and occasional others. … The facade rose in affirmation of the prestige; its purpose was to trumpet the associated authorities of Church, King, and city to the crowds flocking towards the porch” (Production, 260–261).

49. Simson, The Gothic Cathedral, 8.

50. See Appendix and Luke, 19:3–4.

51. R.C. Finucane has argued that, in the Middle Ages, the average person's ability to recognize the state of death was limited and “on many occasions medieval folk were unable to distinguish the dead from the living” (Finucane, , “The Use and Abuse of Medieval Miracles,” History 60 [1975], 7CrossRefGoogle Scholar).

52. English translation by Diana Wyatt. For the complete text, see Appendix.

53. Ward, Benedicta, Miracles and the Medieval Mind: Theory, Record and Event, 1000–1215 (London: Scholar Press, 1982), 3–19, 2, 31–32Google Scholar.

54. Beck with cites evidence that suggests that, by the late Middle Ages, “the mass was becoming more and more of a spectacle and less and less of a communion. The emphasis was increasingly on watching Christ's body rather than being incorporated in it” (Christ's Body, 36).

55. Bynum, The Resurrection of the Body, 220–224.

56. For further discussion of medieval Beverley, see VCH, 2–62; and Miller, Robinson, English and Hall, Beverley, 1–8.

57. This is testified by the medieval records of the corporation and by the trade ordinances. Diana Wyatt's dissertation transcribes all of these records in full (see note 3).

58. For further discussion on the Minster as sanctuary, see Cox, Charles, The Sanctuaries and the Sanctuary Seekers of Medieval England (London: George Allen & Sons, 1911)Google Scholar.

59. Bynum, The Resurrection of the Body, 200–203.

60. Lefebvre criticizes Panofsky's reading of the gothic cathedral for deriving a mental space, that is, a speculative construction, from abstract representation that erases the traces of production implicit in the processes he describes. The cathedral, argues Lefebvre, is “not merely a space of ideas, an ideal space, but a social and a mental space. An emergence. A decrypting of the space that went before. Thought and Philosophy came to the surface, rose from the depths, but life was decrypted as a result, and society as a whole, along with space” (Lefebvre, Production, 260).

61. Both in a recent article on the “stuffness” of the body and in her book on representations of resurrection in the medieval period, Bynum notes that, while the philosophical theories of the high Middle Ages tended to make the body into a concept “to dissolve the body into theory,” making the goal of human existence a kind of “crystalline permanence,” the period also saw an explosion of poetry, religious and secular, “in which a labile, physical, agile, yearning body received new articulation.” Both theology on the integrity of the resurrected body (Origen and Aquinas) and late medieval Christian rites and practices (pilgrimages, relic cults, burial practices, miracle recording) tended to refute Platonic definitions of the person wherein the soul could inhabit a body other than its own. Bynum writes that “The attitudes and practices of religious specialists in the late Middle Ages, and the reverence they won from a wide spectrum of the population, assumed the flesh to be the instrument of salvation (in many senses of the word instrument—musical instrument, kitchen implement, instrument of torture, etc.)” (Bynum, Caroline Walker, “Why All the Fuss about the Body? A Medievalist's Perspective,” Critical Inquiry 22 [1995]: 13–15, 32–33CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Bynum, The Resurrection of the Body, 156).

62. English translation by Diana Wyatt. For the complete text, see Appendix.

63. English translation by Diana Wyatt. For the complete text, see Appendix.

64. Graves, 303, 307.

65. Beneath the discourses that regulate public space, Michel de Certeau finds a proliferation of “the ruses and combinations of powers that have no readable identity” and that are impossible to administer (The Practice of Everyday Life, trans. Rendall, Steven F. [Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984], xix, 36–38, 95)Google Scholar.

66. English translation by Diana Wyatt. For the complete text, see Appendix.

67. English translation by Diana Wyatt. For the complete text, see Appendix.

68. Physical manifestations of empathy with Christ's suffering have been read as a particular mark of Northern piety as displayed by Margery Kempe's uncontrollable weeping when faced with the sight of Our Lady of Pity. For further discussion of Northern piety, see Davidson, Clifford, “Northern Spirituality and the late Medieval Drama of York,” in Elder, E. Rozanne, ed., The Spirituality of Western Christendom (Kalamazoo, MI: Cistercian Publications, Inc., 1976), 125–151Google Scholar; and Beckwith, Christ's Body, 88–91.

69. For further discussion of the emotionalism of late medieval Christianity, see Davidson, who discusses Franciscan theology as laying greater stress upon close identification with the suffering Christ. Davidson also touches upon Saint Anselm and the early Cistercians (Davidson, ed., A Tretise of Miraclis Pleyinge, 6–17).

70. For further discussion of the “fundamental distrust of language” in medieval texts, see Joan Tasker Grimbert, “Misrepresentation and Misconception in Chrétien de Troyes,” in Sign, Sentence, Discourse, ed. Wasserman and Roney, 50–79.

71. The relationship between miracle and miracle play has been noted before but never thoroughly explored. See, for example, Grantley, Darryll, “Producing Miracles,” in Neuss, Paula, ed., Aspects of Early English Drama (Cambridge: Brewer, 1983), 78Google Scholar; and Clopper, Lawrence M., “Communitas: The Play of Saints in Late Medieval and Tudor England,” Medievalia 18 (1995 for 1992): 81–109Google Scholar. Sarah Beckwith, as noted above, has explored the boundaries between the liturgy and the theatre. See specifically “Ritual, Church and Theatre: Medieval Dramas of the Sacramental Body,” 65–89.

72. R.A. Shoaf, “Medieval Studies after Derrida after Heidegger,” in Sign, Sentence, Discourse, ed. Wasserman and Roney, 12.

73. See Ian Doyle, “Appendix 1,” which appears with the article by Morris and Cambridge, “Beverley Minster Before the early Thirteenth Century,” 20–21 (see note 11).

74. See chronicler's preface, note 14.