There was one whole play about Joseph’s concerns when he found that his betrothed was pregnant. They didn’t make much of the Palestine-era custom of long betrothal that was like a quasi-marriage, since it wasn’t done that way in medieval northern Europe. Instead, they just assumed that the couple was married. But this assumption presents its own questions.
Medieval people found a simple way to understand the marriage of Joseph and Mary by applying one of their stock comic situations: an old man who takes a young wife. Now such marriages are rare in our culture outside of Hollywood, and even then, they were not commonplace. But they happened, and they are the cause of other comic situations, like the fairly young widow with suitors or the middle-aged widow with plenty of money and no intention of losing her independence. It was plain to medieval people that if the church said Jesus’s brothers and sisters were actually his cousins, because Mary remained a virgin all her life and had only one son, then Joseph was an old man who suffered from erectile dysfunction.
But in that case, why would he marry at all? York’s play about Joseph opens with a monologue in which he explains it: he went to the Temple on a day when they were having a lottery for which single man would need to marry. Joseph stood in the line-up and then a miracle happened. Each old man held a stick, and Joseph’s stick bloomed, like Aaron’s rod centuries before. He doesn’t say how Mary was selected, but I infer that in the story, the temple must have made the match. Joseph emphasizes how heavy his bones are, how feebly he moves, and how near he is to death. He knows he has never had sex; and yet his wife is pregnant.
In some medieval versions, he is a very angry old man. We have two versions of York’s play, in which he expresses doubts and then hears from the angel Gabriel. In the Registry version, produced by the Pewterers and Founders, he speaks very fully of his doubts, if not angrily then at least sadly. His troubles make up most of the play:
Joseph: Whose ist, Marie?
Mary: Sir, Goddis and youres.
Joseph: Nay, nay.
These three lines, as spoken, are to be taken as one line of verse. English verse was not yet operating in a measured metrical setting, but it was moving toward pentameter. We can scan these three lines in a now-conventional way: whose IST, maRIE? sir, GOD’s and YOURs. nay NAY. Joseph continues speaking, but his next words begin a new line, since this one is full.
But far more lines of verse in the York plays resemble the old Anglo-Saxon form that we see in Beowulf. In spite of the fusion of French vocabulary onto the old Germanic stock, their sense of poetry seems not to have changed much yet in York. Instead of counting metrical feet, they felt the beat of word stress, often measured in four per line. In Joseph’s next lines, I’ll put the strong stresses in all caps. The pronoun “I” is unstressed:
Joseph: Now WAT i WELE i AM beGILEd,
And REAsoune WHY?
With ME FLESSHely was thou NEVere FYLid,
And I forSAKE it HERE forTHY.
The short line “and reason why?” probably created a rest, as in music, leading up to the big reveal: “With me fleshly was thou never defiled.”
Notice, second, the alliteration, which was the chief feature of Anglo-Saxon poetry and probably remained so in York folk poetry. Joseph speaks in W’s in the first two lines, then in F’s. In the classic Anglo-Saxon style, each line had an alliterative sound that began each of the stressed words, or just three of them. Many lines, not just in Joseph’s play, but in all the York mystery plays, ran on this plan (I capitalize the alliterative words):
God: I am Gracyus and Grete, God withoutyn beGynnyng,
I am Maker unMade, all Mighte es in Me.
Cain: Ya, Daunce in the Devil way, Dresse thee Downe,
For I Wille Wyrke even as I Will.
Noah: Bot nowe my Cares aren Keene as Knyffe
ByCause I Kenne what is Commaunde.
Joseph: Of grete Mornyng May I Me Mene
And Walke full Werily be this Way.
When characters in the York plays have a monologue, as often happens when they introduce the play, they speak in stanzas. Joseph’s opening prologue is rhymed ABAB-CC-BCCB (hyphens inserted just to make it easier to read the string of letters):
For bittirly than may I banne
The way I in the Temple wente,
Itt was to me a bad barganne,
For reuthe I may it ay repente.
For tharein was ordande
Unwedded men sulde stande
Al sembled at asent,
And ilke ane a drye wande
On heght helde in his hand,
And I ne wist what it ment.
Observe the interplay between alliteration patterns and rhyme. In the first four lines, the alliterative pattern emphasizes the first stress and the last: bittirly…banne, way…wente, reuthe…repente. But in the 3rd line, an A rhyme, it changes for variation, with no alliteration until the last two stresses: bad barganne. We see this kind of dance between the two sound elements, rhyme and alliteration, all through the York players’ lines.
Joseph’s troubles are finally resolved when Gabriel comes to tell him that it’s all right, Mary is only pregnant by an act of God. Previously, he had admitted that he knew there was a prophecy that a virgin would bear a child, he just assumed it couldn’t refer to his virgin. Now that he knows it does, he is very sorry. He will now take Mary straight to Bethlehem, as the angel commands. I think he plans to carry her on his back! When their poor bits of clothing are packed, he says he must carry it, and again we see the Yorkshire “bus” for “must.” Perhaps he’s only going to carry the bag on his back?
Till Bedlem bus me it bere,
For litill thyng will women dere.
Helpe up nowe on my bak.