Scarce had the rays of golden Phoebus begun to break through the lowest line of our horizon, when the aged and venerable Telesio made the piteous sound of his horn come to the ears of all that were in the village—a signal which moved those who heard it to leave the repose of their pastoral couches, and hasten to do what Telesio bade. But the first who led the way in this were Elicio, Aurelio, Daranio, and all the shepherds and shepherdesses who were with them, the fair Nisida and Blanca, and the happy Timbrio and Silerio not being absent, with a number of other gallant shepherds and beauteous shepherdesses, who joined them, and might reach the number of thirty. Amongst them went the peerless Galatea, new miracle of beauty, and the lately-wed Silveria, who brought with her the fair and haughty Belisa, for whom the shepherd Marsilio suffered such loving and mortal pangs. Belisa had come to visit Silveria, and to congratulate her on her newly attained estate, and she wished likewise to be present at obsequies so celebrated as she hoped those would be that shepherds so great and so famous were celebrating. All then came out together from the village, outside which they found Telesio, with many other shepherds accompanying him, all clad and adorned in such wise that they clearly showed that they had come together for a sad and mournful business. Straightway Telesio ordained, so that the solemn sacrifices might that day be performed with purer intent and thoughts more calm, that all the shepherds should come together on their side, and apart from the shepherdesses, and that the latter should do the same: whereat the smaller number were content, and the majority not very satisfied, especially the fond Marsilio, who had already seen the loveless Belisa, at sight of whom he was so beside himself and so rapt, as his friends Orompo, Crisio, and Orfenio clearly perceived, and when they saw him in such a state, they went up to him, and Orompo said to him:

'Take courage, friend Marsilio, take courage, and do not by your faint-heartedness cause the small spirit of your breast to be revealed. What if Heaven, moved to compassion of your pain, has at such a time brought the shepherdess Belisa to these banks that you may heal it?'

'Nay rather the better to end me, as I believe,' replied Marsilio, 'will she have come to this place, for this and more must needs be feared from my fortune; but I will do, Orompo, what you bid, if by chance in this hard plight reason has more power with me than my feelings.'

And therewith Marsilio became again somewhat more calm, and straightway the shepherds on one side, and the shepherdesses on another, as was ordained by Telesio, began to make their way to the valley of cypresses, all preserving a wondrous silence; until Timbrio, astonished to see the coolness and beauty of the clear Tagus by which he was going, turned to Elicio who was coming at his side, and said to him:

'The incomparable beauty of these cool banks, Elicio, causes me no small wonder; and not without reason, for when one has seen as I have the spacious banks of the renowned Betis, and those that deck and adorn the famous Ebro, and the well-known Pisuerga, and when one in foreign lands has walked by the banks of the holy Tiber, and the pleasing banks of the Po, made noted by the fall of the rash youth, and has not failed to go round the cool spots of the peaceful Sebeto, it must needs have been a great cause that should move me to wonder at seeing any others.'

'You do not go so far out of the way in what you say, as I believe, discreet Timbrio,' answered Elicio, 'as not to see with your eyes how right you are to say it; for without doubt you can believe that the pleasantness and coolness of the banks of this river excel, as is well known and recognised, all those you have named, though there should enter among them those of the distant Xanthus, and of the renowned Amphrysus, and of the loving Alpheus. For experience holds and has made certain, that almost in a straight line above the greater part of these banks appears a sky bright and shining, which with a wide sweep and with living splendour seems to invite to joy and gladness the heart that is most estranged from it; and if it is true that the stars and the sun are sustained, as some say, by the waters here below, I firmly believe that those of this river are in a large measure the cause that produces the beauty of the sky that covers it, or I shall believe that God, for the same reason that they say He dwells in Heaven, makes here His sojourn for the most part. The earth that embraces it, clad with a thousand green adornments, seems to make festival and to rejoice at possessing in itself a gift so rare and pleasing, and the golden river as though in exchange, sweetly interweaving itself in its embraces, fashions, as if with intent, a thousand windings in and out, which fill the soul of all who behold them with wondrous pleasure; whence it arises that, though the eyes turn again to behold it many a time, they do not therefore fail to find in it things to cause them new pleasure and new wonder. Turn your eyes then, valiant Timbrio, and see how much its banks are adorned by the many villages and wealthy farmhouses, which are seen built along them. Here in every season of the year is seen the smiling spring in company with fair Venus, her garments girded up and full of love, and Zephyrus accompanying her, with his mother Flora in front, scattering with bounteous hand divers fragrant flowers; and the skill of its inhabitants has wrought so much that nature, incorporated with art, is become an artist and art's equal, and from both together has been formed a third nature to which I cannot give a name. Of its cultivated gardens, compared with which the gardens of the Hesperides and of Alcinous, may keep silence, of the dense woods, of the peaceful olives, green laurels, and rounded myrtles, of its abundant pastures, joyous valleys, and covered hills, streamlets and springs which are found on this bank, do not expect me to say more, save that, if in any part of the earth the Elysian fields have a place, it is without doubt here. What shall I say of the skilful working of the lofty wheels, by the ceaseless motion of which men draw the waters from the deep river, and copiously irrigate the fields which are distant a long way? Let there be added to this that on these banks are nurtured the fairest and most discreet shepherdesses that can be found in the circle of the earth; as a proof of which, leaving aside that which experience shows us, and what you, Timbrio, do, since you have been on them and have seen, it will suffice to take as an example that shepherdess whom you see there, oh Timbrio.'

And, saying this, he pointed with his crook to Galatea; and without saying more, left Timbrio wondering to see the discretion and words with which he had praised the banks of the Tagus and Galatea's beauty. And he replied to him that nothing of what was said could be gainsaid, and in these and other things they beguiled the tedium of the road, until, coming in sight of the valley of cypresses, they saw issuing from it almost as many shepherds and shepherdesses as those who were with them. All joined together and with peaceful steps began to enter the sacred valley, the situation of which was so strange and wondrous that even in the very ones who had seen it many a time, it caused new admiration and pleasure. On one portion of the bank of the famous Tagus there rise in four different and opposite quarters four green and peaceful hills, walls and defenders as it were of a fair valley which they contain in their midst, and entrance into it is granted by four other spots. These same hills close together in such a way that they come to form four broad and peaceful roads, walled in on all sides by countless lofty cypresses, set in such order and harmony that even the very branches of each seem to grow uniformly, and none dares in the slightest to exceed or go beyond another. The space there is between cypress and cypress is closed and occupied by a thousand fragrant rose-bushes and pleasing jessamine, so close and interwoven as thorny brambles and prickly briars are wont to be in the hedges of guarded vineyards. From point to point of these peaceful openings are seen running through the short green grass clear cool streamlets of pure sweet waters, which have their birth on the slopes of the same hills. The goal and end of these roads is a wide round space formed by the declivities and cypresses, in the midst of which is placed a fountain of cunning workmanship, built of white and costly marble, made with such skill and cunning that the beauteous fountains of renowned Tibur, and the proud ones of ancient Trinacria cannot be compared to it. With the water of this wondrous fountain are moistened and sustained the cool grasses of the delightful spot, and what makes this pleasing situation the more worthy of esteem and reverence is that it is exempt from the greedy mouths of simple lambs and gentle sheep, and from any other kind of flock; for it serves alone as guardian and treasure-house of the honoured bones of any famous shepherds, who, by the general decree of all the survivors in the neighbourhood are determined and ordained to be worthy and deserving of receiving burial in this famous valley. Therefore there were seen between the many different trees that were behind the cypresses, in the space and expanse there was from them to the slopes of the hills, some tombs, made one of jasper and another of marble, on the white stones of which one read the names of those who were buried in them. But the tomb which shone most above all, and that which showed itself most to the eyes of all, was that of the famous shepherd Meliso, which, apart from the others, was seen on one side of the broad space, made of smooth black slates and of white and well-fashioned alabaster. And at the very moment the eyes of Telesio beheld it, he turned his face to all that pleasing company, and said to them with peaceful voice and piteous tones:

'There you see, gallant shepherds, discreet and fair shepherdesses, there you see, I say, the sad tomb wherein repose the honoured bones of the renowned Meliso, honour and glory of our banks. Begin then to raise to Heaven your humble hearts, and with pure purpose, copious tears and deep sighs, intone your holy hymns and devout prayers, and ask Heaven to consent to receive in its starry abode the blessed soul of the body that lies there.'

As he said this, he went up to one of the cypresses, and cutting some branches, he made from them a mournful garland wherewith he crowned his white and venerable brow, beckoning to the others to do the same. All, moved by his example, in one moment crowned themselves with the sad branches, and guided by Telesio, went up to the tomb, where the first thing Telesio did was to bend the knee and kiss the hard stone of the tomb. All did the same, and some there were who, made tender by the memory of Meliso, left the white marble they were kissing bedewed with tears. This being done, Telesio bade the sacred fire be kindled, and in a moment around the tomb were made many, though small, bonfires, in which only branches of cypress were burned; and the venerable Telesio began with solemn and peaceful steps to circle the pyre, and to cast into all the glowing fires a quantity of sacred sweet-smelling incense, uttering each time he scattered it, some short and devout prayer for the departed soul of Meliso, at the end of which he would raise his trembling voice, all the bystanders with sad and piteous tone replying thrice 'Amen, amen,' to the mournful sound of which the neighbouring hills and distant valleys re-echoed, and the branches of the tall cypresses and of the many other trees of which the valley was full, stricken by a gentle breeze that blew, made and formed a dull and saddest whisper, almost as if in token that they for their part shared the sadness of the funereal sacrifice. Thrice Telesio circled the tomb, and thrice he uttered the piteous prayers, and nine times more were heard the mournful tones of the amen which the shepherds repeated. This ceremony ended, the aged Telesio leaned against a lofty cypress which rose at the head of Meliso's tomb, and by turning his face on every side caused the bystanders to attend to what he wished to say, and straightway raising his voice as much as the great number of his years could allow, with marvellous eloquence he began to praise Meliso's virtues, the integrity of his blameless life, the loftiness of his intellect, the constancy of his soul, the graceful gravity of his discourse, and the excellence of his poetry, and above all the solicitude of his breast to keep and fulfil the holy religion he had professed, joining to these other virtues of Meliso of such a kind and so great that, though the shepherd had not been well known by all who were listening to Telesio, merely by what he was saying, they would have been inspired to love him, if he had been alive, and to reverence him after death. The old man then ended his discourse saying:

'If the lowliness of my dull understanding, famous shepherds, were to attain to where Meliso's excellences attained, and to where attains the desire I have to praise them, and if the weak and scanty strength begotten by many weary years did not cut short my voice and breath, sooner would you see this sun that illumines us bathing once and again in the mighty ocean, than I should cease from my discourse begun; but since in my withered age this is not allowed, do you supply what I lack, and show yourselves grateful to Meliso's cold ashes, praising them in death as the love constrains you that he had for you in life. And though a part of this duty touches and concerns us all in general, those whom it concerns more particularly are the famous Thyrsis and Damon, as being so well acquainted with him, such friends, such intimates; and so I beg them, as urgently as I can, to respond to this obligation, supplying in song with voice more calm and resounding what I have failed to do by my tears with my faltering one.'

Telesio said no more, nor indeed had there been need to say it in order that the shepherds might be moved to do what he bade them, for straightway, without making any reply, Thyrsis drew forth his rebeck, and beckoned to Damon to do the same. They were accompanied straightway by Elicio and Lauso, and all the shepherds who had instruments there; and in a little while they made music so sad and pleasing, that though it delighted the ears, it moved the hearts to give forth tokens of sadness with the tears the eyes were shedding. To this was joined the sweet harmony of the little painted birds, that were flitting through the air, and some sobs that the shepherdesses, already made tender and moved by Telesio's discourse, and by what the shepherds were doing, wrung from time to time from their lovely breasts; and it was of such a kind that the sound of the sad music and that of the sad harmony of the linnets, larks, and nightingales, and the bitter sound of the deep groans joining in unison, all formed together a concert so strange and mournful, that there is no tongue that could describe it. A little while after, the other instruments ceasing, only the four of Thyrsis, Damon, Elicio, and Lauso were heard. These going up to Meliso's tomb, placed themselves on its four sides, a token from which all present understood that they were about to sing something. And so they lent them silence marvellous and subdued, and straightway the famous Thyrsis, aided by Elicio, Damon, and Lauso, began, with voice loud, sad and resounding, to sing in this wise:

THYRSIS.

DAMON.

ELICIO.

LAUSO.

THYRSIS.

DAMON.

ELICIO.

LAUSO.

THYRSIS.

DAMON.

ELICIO.

LAUSO.

THYRSIS.

DAMON.

ELICIO.

LAUSO.

THYRSIS.

DAMON.

ELICIO.

LAUSO.

THYRSIS.

ELICIO.

LAUSO.

THYRSIS.

DAMON.

ELICIO.

LAUSO.

THYRSIS.

DAMON.

ELICIO.

LAUSO.

THYRSIS.

DAMON.

ELICIO.

LAUSO.

THYRSIS.

Thyrsis, who had begun the sad and mournful elegy, was the one who ended it, without any of those that had listened to the lamentable song ending their tears for a good while. But at this moment the venerable Telesio said to them:

'Since we have in part, gallant and courteous shepherds, complied with the debt we owe the blessed Meliso, impose silence for the nonce on your tender tears, and give some truce to your grievous sighs, since by neither can we make good the loss we bewail; and though human sorrow cannot fail to show sorrow when ill befalls, yet it is necessary to temper the excess of its attacks with the reason that attends on the discreet. And although tears and sighs are tokens of the love cherished for him who is bewailed, the souls for which they are shed gain more profit by the pious sacrifices and devout prayers which are offered for them, than if all the ocean main were to be made tears and distil through the eyes of all the world. And for this cause and because we must give some relief to our wearied bodies, it will be well to leave what remains for us to do till the coming day, and for the present to make a call on your wallets, and comply with what nature enjoins on you.'

And in saying this, he gave orders for all the shepherdesses to abide on one side of the valley near Meliso's tomb, leaving with them six of the oldest shepherds who were there, and the rest were in another part a little way from them. And straightway with what they carried in their wallets and with the water of the clear spring they satisfied the common necessity of hunger, ending at a time when already night was clothing with one same colour all things contained beneath our horizon, and the shining moon was showing her fair and radiant face in all the fulness she has when most her ruddy brother imparts to her his rays. But a little while after, a troubled wind arising, there began to be seen some black clouds, which in a measure hid the light of the chaste goddess, making shadows on the earth; tokens from which some shepherds who were there, masters in rustic astrology, expected some coming hurricane and tempest. But all ended only in the night remaining grey and calm, and in their settling down to rest on the cool grass, yielding their eyes to sweet and peaceful slumber, as all did save some who shared as sentinels the guardianship of the shepherdesses, and save the guardian of some torches that were left blazing round Meliso's tomb. But now that calm silence prevailed through all that sacred valley, and now that slothful Morpheus had with his moist branch touched the brows and eyelids of all those present, at a time when the wandering stars had gone a good way round our pole, marking out the punctual courses of the night: at that moment from the very tomb of Meliso arose a great and wondrous fire, so bright and shining that in an instant all the dark valley was in such brightness, as if the very sun had illumined it. By which sudden marvel the shepherds who were awake near the tomb, fell astonished to the ground dazzled and blind with the light of the transparent fire, which produced a contrary effect in the others who were sleeping; for when they were stricken by its rays, heavy slumber fled from them, and they opened, though with some difficulty, their sleeping eyes, and seeing the strangeness of the light that revealed itself to them, remained confounded and amazed; and so, one standing, another reclining, another kneeling, each gazed on the bright fire with amazement and terror. Telesio seeing all this, arraying himself in a moment in the sacred vestments, accompanied by Elicio, Thyrsis, Damon, Lauso, and other spirited shepherds, gradually began to draw nigh to the fire, with the intention of seeking with some lawful and fitting exorcisms to extinguish, or to understand whence came the strange vision which showed itself to them. But when they were drawing nigh to the glowing flames, they saw them dividing into two parts, and in their midst appearing a nymph so fair and graceful, that it set them in greater wonder than the sight of the blazing fire; she appeared clad in a rich and fine web of silver, gathered and drawn up at the waist in such wise that half of her legs revealed themselves arrayed in buskins or close-fitting foot-gear, gilded and full of countless knots of variegated ribbons. Over the silver web she wore another vestment of green and delicate silk, which, wafted from side to side by a light breeze that was gently blowing, seemed most exquisite. She wore scattered over her shoulders the longest and the ruddiest locks that human eyes ever saw, and upon them a garland made of green laurel only. Her right hand was occupied by a tall branch of the yellow palm of victory, and her left with another of the green olive of peace. And with these adornments she showed herself so fair and wonderful, that all that beheld her she kept rapt by her appearance in such wise that, casting from them their first fear, they approached with sure steps the neighbourhood of the fire, persuading themselves that from so fair a vision no harm could happen to them. And all being, as has been said, ravished to see her, the beauteous nymph opened her arms on each side, and made the divided flames divide the more and part, to give an opportunity that she might the better be seen; and straightway raising her calm countenance, with grace and strange dignity she began words such as these:

'By the results that my unexpected appearance has caused in your hearts, discreet and pleasing company, you can gather that it is not by virtue of evil spirits that this form of mine has been fashioned which presents itself here to you; for one of the means by which we recognise whether a vision be good or bad, is by the results it produces on the mind of him who beholds it. For in the case of the good, though it cause in him wonder and alarm, such wonder and alarm comes mingled with a pleasant disturbance which in a little while calms and satisfies him, contrary to what is caused by the malignant vision, which brings alarm, discontent, terror, but never assurance. Experience will make clear to you this truth when you know me, and when I tell you who I am, and the cause that has moved me to come from my distant dwelling-place to visit you. And because I do not wish to keep you in suspense with the desire you have to know who I am, know, discreet shepherds and beauteous shepherdesses, that I am one of the nine maidens, who on the lofty and sacred peaks of Parnassus have their own and famous abode. My name is Calliope, my duty and disposition it is to favour and aid the divine spirits, whose laudable practice it is to busy themselves in the marvellous and never duly lauded science of poetry. I am she who made the old blind man of Smyrna, famous only through him, win eternal fame; she who will make the Mantuan Tityrus live for all the ages to come, until time end; and she who makes the writings, as uncouth as learned, of the most ancient Ennius, to be esteemed from the past to the present age. In short, I am she who favoured Catullus, she who made Horace renowned, Propertius eternal, and I am she who with immortal fame has preserved the memory of the renowned Petrarch, and she who made the famous Dante descend to the dark circles of Hell, and ascend to the bright spheres of Heaven. I am she who aided the divine Ariosto to weave the varied and fair web he fashioned; she who in this country of yours had intimate friendship with the witty Boscan, and with the famous Garcilaso, with the learned and wise Castillejo, and the ingenious Torres Naharro, by whose intellects and by their fruits your country was enriched and I satisfied. I am she who moved the pen of the celebrated Aldana, and that which never left the side of Don Fernando de AcuÑa; and she who prides herself on the close friendship and converse she always had with the blessed soul of the body that lies in this tomb. The funeral rites performed by you in his honour not only have gladdened his spirit, which now paces through the eternal realm, but have so satisfied me that I have come perforce to thank you for so laudable and pious a custom as this is, which is in use among you. Therefore I promise you, with the sincerity that can be expected from my virtue, in reward for the kindness you have shown to the ashes of my dear beloved Meliso, always to bring it to pass that on your banks there may never be wanting shepherds to excel all those of the other banks in the joyous science of poetry. I will likewise always favour your counsels, and guide your understanding so that you may never give an unjust vote, when you decide who is deserving of being buried in this sacred valley; for it will not be right that an honour, so special and distinguished, and one which is only deserved by white and tuneful swans, should come to be enjoyed by black and hoarse crows. And so it seems to me that it will be right to give you some information now about some distinguished men who live in this Spain of yours, and about some in the distant Indies subject to her; and if all or any one of these should be brought by his good fortune to end the course of his days on these banks, without any doubt you can grant him burial in this famous spot. Together with this I wish to warn you not to think the first I shall name worthy of more honour than the last, for herein I do not intend to keep any order, because, though I understand the difference between the one and the other, and the others among themselves, I wish to leave the decision of it in doubt, in order that your intellects may have something to practise on in understanding the difference of theirs, of which their works will give proof. I shall go through their names as they come to my memory, so that none may claim that it is a favour I have done him in having remembered him before another, for, as I tell you, discreet shepherds, I leave you to give them afterwards the place which seems to you to be due to them of right; and, in order that with less trouble and annoyance you may be attentive to my long narration, I will make it of such a kind that you may only feel displeasure at its brevity.'

The fair nymph, having said this, was silent and straightway took a harp she had beside her, which up till that time had been seen by no one, and, as she began to play it, it seemed that the sky began to brighten, and that the moon illumined the earth with new and unwonted splendour; the trees, despite a gentle breeze that was blowing, held their branches still; and the eyes of all who were there did not dare to lower their lids, in order that for the little while they lingered in raising, they might not be robbed of the glory they enjoyed in beholding the beauty of the nymph, and indeed all would have wished all their five senses to be changed into that of hearing only; with such strangeness, with such sweetness, with so great a charm did the fair muse play her harp. After she had sounded a few chords, with the most resounding voice that could be imagined, she began with verses such as these:

CALLIOPE'S SONG.

To the sweet sound of my harmonious lyre,
Shepherds, I pray you lend attentive ear,
The hallowed breath of the Castalian choir
Breathing therein and in my voice ye'll hear:
Lo! it will make you wonder and admire
With souls enraptured and with happy fear,
What time I do recount to you on earth
The geniuses that Heaven claims for their worth.

It is my purpose but of those to sing
Of whose life Fate hath not yet cut the thread,
Of those who rightly merit ye should bring
Their ashes to this place when they are dead,
Where, despite busy Time on hasty wing,
Through this praiseworthy duty renderÈd
By you, for countless years may live their fame,
Their radiant work, and their renownÈd name.

And he who doth with righteous title merit
Of high renown to win a noble store,
Is DON ALONSO;[118] he 'tis doth inherit
From holy Phoebus heavenly wisdom's flower,
In whom shineth with lofty glow the spirit
Of warlike Mars, and his unrivalled power,
LEIVA his surname in whose glorious sound
Italy, Spain herself, hath lustre found.

Arauco's wars and Spanish worth hath sung
Another who the name ALONSO hath.
Far hath he wandered all the realms among
Where Glaucus dwells, and felt his furious wrath;
His voice was not untuned, nor was his tongue,
For full of strange and wondrous grace were both,
Wherefore ERCILLA[119] doth deserve to gain
Memorial everlasting in this plain.

Of JUAN DE SILVA[120] I to you declare
That he deserves all glory and all praise,
Not only for that Phoebus holds him dear,
But for the worth that is in him always;
Thereto his works a testimony clear
Will be, wherein his intellect doth blaze
With brightness which illumineth the eyes
Of fools, dazzling at times the keen and wise.

Be the rich number of my list increased
By him to whom Heaven doth such favour show
That by the breath of Phoebus is his breast
Sustained, and by Mars' valour here below;
Thou matchest Homer, if thou purposest
To write, thy pen unto such heights doth go,
DIEGO OSORIO,[121] that to all mankind
Truly is known thy loftiness of mind.

By all the ways whereby much-speaking fame
A cavalier illustrious can praise,
By these it doth his glorious worth proclaim,
His deeds the while setting his name ablaze;
His lively wit, his virtue doth inflame
More than one tongue from height to height to raise
FRANCISCO DE MENDOZA'S[122] high career,
Nor doth the flight of time bring them to fear.

Happy DON DIEGO, DE SARMIENTO[123] bright,
CARVAJAL famous, nursling of our choir,
Of Hippocrene the radiance and delight,
Youthful in years, old in poetic fire;
Thy name will go from age to age, despite
The waters of oblivion, rising higher,
Made famous by thy works, from grace to grace,
From tongue to tongue, and from race unto race.

Now chief of all I would to you display
Ripeness of intellect in tender years,
Gallantry, skill that no man can gainsay,
A bearing courteous, worth that knows no fears;
One that in Tuscan, as in Spanish, may
His talent show, as he who did rehearse
The tale of Este's line and did enthral,
And he is DON GUTIERRE CARVAJAL.[124]

LUIS DE VARGAS,[125] thou in whom I see
A genius ripe in thy few tender days,
Strive thou to win the prize of victory,
The guerdon of my sisters and their praise;
So near are thou thereto, that thou to me
Seemest triumphant, for in countless ways
Virtuous and wise, thou strivest that thy fame
May brightly shine with clear and living flame.

Honour doth Tagus' beauteous bank receive
From countless heavenly spirits dwelling there,
Who make this present age wherein we live,
Than that of Greeks and Romans happier;
Concerning them this message do I give
That they are worthy of sepulture here,
And proof thereof their works have to us given,
Which point us out the way that leads to Heaven.

Two famous doctors first themselves present,
In Phoebus' sciences of foremost name,
The twain in age alone are different,
In character and wit they are the same;
All near and far they fill with wonderment,
They win amongst their fellows so much fame
By their exalted wisdom and profound
That soon they needs must all the world astound.

The name that cometh first into my song,
Of the twain whom I now to praise make bold,
Is CAMPUZANO,[126] great the great among,
Whom as a second Phoebus ye can hold;
His lofty wit, his more than human tongue,
Doth a new universe to us unfold
Of Indies and of glories better far,
As better than gold is wisdom's guiding star.

Doctor SUÁREZ is the next I sing,
And SOSA[127] is the name he adds thereto—
He who with skilful tongue doth everything
That free from blemish is and best, pursue;
Whoso should quench within the wondrous spring
His thirst, as he did, will not need to view
With eye of envy learnÈd Homer's praise,
Nor his who sang to us of Troy ablaze.

Of Doctor BAZA,[128] if of him I might
Say what I feel, I without doubt maintain,
That I would fill all present with delight;
His learning, virtue, and his charm are plain
First have I been to raise him to the height
Where now he stands, and I am she who fain
Would make his name eternal whilst the Lord
Of Delos shall his radiant light afford.

If fame should bring the tidings to your ear
Of the strange works a famous mind displays,
Conceptions lofty, well-ordered, and clear,
Learning that would the listener amaze;
Things that the thought checketh in mid career,
And tongue cannot express, but straightway stays—
Whene'er ye are in trouble and in doubt
'Tis the Licentiate DAZA[129] leads you out.

Master GARAI'S[130] melodious works incite
Me to extol him more than all beside;
Thou, fame, excelling time of hasty flight,
His celebration deem a work of praise;
Fame, thou wilt find the fame he gives more bright
Than is thine own in spreading far and wide
His praise, for thou must, speaking of his fame,
From many-tongued to truthful change thy name.

That intellect, which, leaving far behind
Man's greatest, doth to the divine aspire,
Which in Castilian doth no pleasure find—
The heroic verse of Rome doth him inspire;
New Homer in Mantuan new combined
Is Master CÓRDOVA.[131] Worthy his lyre
Of praise in happy Spain, in every land,
Where shines the sun, where ocean laves the strand.

Doctor FRANCISCO DÍAZ,[132] I can well
Assure my shepherds here concerning thee,
That with glad heart and joy unspeakable
They can thy praises sing unceasingly;
And if I do not on thy praises dwell—
The highest is thy due, and worthily—
'Tis that our time is short, nor do I know
How I can e'er repay thee what I owe.

LUJÁN,[133] who with thy toga merited
Dost thine own Spain and foreign lands delight.
Who with thy sweet and well-known muse dost spread
Thy fame abroad to Heaven's loftiest height,
Life shall I give thee after thou art dead,
And I shall cause, in swift and rapid flight,
The fame of thine unequalled mind to roll
And spread from ours unto the opposing pole.

His lofty mind doth a Licentiate show,
And worth,—'tis a beloved friend of yours—
I mean JUAN DE VERGARA,[134] whom ye know,
An honour to this happy land of ours;
By a clear open pathway he doth go,
'Tis I that guide aright his steps and powers.
Unto his height to rise is my reward,
His mind and virtue joy to me afford.

That my bold song may praise and glory gain,
Another shall I name to you, from whom
My song to-day shall greater force attain
And to the height of my desire shall come;
And this it is that maketh me refrain
From more than naming him and finding room
To sing how lofty genius hath been sung
By DON ALONSO DE MORALES'[135] tongue.

Over the rugged steep unto the fane
Where dwelleth fame, there climbs and draweth near
A noble youth, who breaks with might and main
Though every hindrance, though 'tis fraught with fear,
And needs must come so nigh that it is plain
That fame doth in prophetic song declare
The laurel which it hath prepared ere now,
HERNANDO MALDONADO,[136] is for thy brow.

Adorned with noble laurel here ye see
His learned brow, who hath such glory found
In every science, every art, that he
O'er all the globe is even now renowned;
Oh golden age, oh happy century,
With such a man as this worthily crowned!
What century, what age doth with thee vie,
When MARCO ANTONIO DE LA VEGA[137]'s nigh?

A DIEGO is the next I call to mind,
Who hath in truth MENDOZA[138] for his name,
Worthy that history should her maker find
In him alone, and soar as soars his fame;
His learning and his virtue, which, enshrined
In every heart, the whole world doth acclaim,
Absent and present both alike astound,
Whether in near or distant nations found.

High Phoebus an acquaintance doth possess—
Acquaintance say I? Nay, a trusty friend,
In whom alone he findeth happiness,
A treasurer of knowledge without end;
'Tis he who of set purpose doth repress
Himself, so that his all he may not spend,
DIEGO DURÁN,[139] in whom we ever find,
And shall find, wisdom, worth, and force of mind.

But who is he who sings his agonies
With voice resounding, and with matchless taste?
Phoebus, and sage Arion, Orpheus wise,
Find ever their abode within his breast;
E'en from the realms where first the dawn doth rise,
Unto the distant regions of the west.
Is he renowned and loved right loyally,
For, LÓPEZ MALDONADO,[140] thou art he.

Who could the praises, shepherds mine, recite
Of him ye love, a shepherd crowned by fame,
Brightest of all the shepherds that are bright,
Who is to all known by FILIDA'S name?
The skill, the learning and the choice delight,
The rare intelligence, the heart aflame,
Of LUIS DE MONTALVO[141] aye assure
Glory and honour whilst the heavens endure.

His temples now let holy Ebro bind
With ivy evergreen and olive white,
And with acanthus golden, may he find
In joyous song his fame forever bright:
The fruitful Nile hath his renown resigned,
For Ebro's ancient worth to such a height
PEDRO DE LIÑÁN'S[142] subtle pen doth lift,
Sum of the bliss which is Apollo's gift.

I think upon the lofty soul and rare
By DON ALONSO DE VALDÉS[143] possessed,
And am spurred on to sing and to declare
That he excels the rarest and the best;
This hath he shown already, and more clear
By the elegance and grace wherewith his breast
He doth reveal, with bitter pangs distraught,
Praising the ill that cruel Love hath wrought.

Before an intellect in wonder bow,
Wherein all that the wish can ask is found.
An intellect, that though it liveth now
On earth, is with the pomp of Heaven crowned;
All that I see and hear and read and know
Of PEDRO DE PADILLA[144] the renowned,
Whether he treat of peace or war's alarm,
Brings fresh delight and wonder by its charm.

GASPAR ALFONSO,[145] thou who wingst thy flight
Unto the immortal realms, so orderest
That I can scarce thy praises all recite,
If I must praise thee as thou meritest;
The pleasing, fruitful plants that on the height
Of our renowned Parnassus find their nest,
All offer wealthy laurels for a crown
To circle and adorn thy brows alone.

Of CRISTOVAL DE MESA[146] I can say
That to your vale he will an honour be;
While he is living, nay, when life away
Hath fled, still ye can praise him fittingly;
His lofty weighty style can win to-day
Renown and honour, and the melody
Of his heroic verse, though silent fame
Remain, and I remember not his name.

DON PEDRO DE RIBERA[147] doth, ye know,
Wealth to your banks, and beauty, shepherds, bring,
Wherefore give him the honour that ye owe,
For I will be the first his praise to sing:
His virtue, his sweet muse doth clearly show
A noble subject, where, on noisy wing,
Fame, hundred thousand fames, their powers might spend
And strive his praises only to extend.

Thou, who didst bring the treasure manifold
Of verse in a new form the shores unto
Of the fair fruitful stream, whose bed of gold
Maketh it famous wheresoe'er it flow,
Thy glorious fame I promise to uphold
With the applause and reverence that we owe
To thee, CALDERA,[148] and thy peerless mind;
With laurel, ivy, I thy brows shall bind.

Let fame, and let the memory I possess,
For ever famous make the memory
Of him who hath transformed to loveliness
The glory of our Christian poesy;
The knowledge and the charm let all confess,
From the dayspring to where the day doth die,
Of great FRANCISCO DE GUZMÁN,[149] whose are
The arts of Phoebus as the arts of war.

Of the Captain SALCEDO[150] 'tis quite clear
That his celestial genius doth attain
Unto the point most lofty, keen and rare,
That can be fancied by the thought of man;
If I compare him, him I do compare
Unto himself—Comparisons, 'tis plain,
Are useless, and to measure worth so true,
All measures must be faulty, or askew.

By reason of the wit and curious grace
Of TOMÁS DE GRACIÁN,[151] I pray, permit
That I should choose within this vale a place
Which shall his virtue, knowledge, worth, befit;
And if it run with his deserts apace,
'Twill be so lofty and so exquisite
That few, methinks, may hope with him to vie,
His genius and his virtues soar so high.

Fain would BAPTISTA DE VIVAR[152] you praise,
Sisters, with unpremeditated lyre;
Such grace, discretion, prudence, he displays,
That, muses though ye be, ye can admire;
He will not hymn Narcissus in his lays
Nor the disdains that lonely Echo tire,
But he will sing his cares which had their birth
'Twixt sad forgetfulness and hope of mirth.

Now terror new, now new alarm and fear
Cometh upon me and o'erpowereth me,
Only because I would, yet cannot bear
Unto the loftiest heights of dignity
Grave BALTASAR, who doth as surname wear
TOLEDO,[153] though my fancy whispereth me
That of his learned quill the lofty flight
Must bear him soon to the empyrean height.

There is a mind wherein experience shows
That knowledge findeth fitting dwelling-place,
Not only in ripe age amidst the snows,
But in green years, in early youthful days;
With no man shall I argue, or oppose
A truth so plain, the more because my praise,
If it perchance unto his ears be brought,
Thine honour hath, LOPE DE VEGA,[154] sought.

Now holy Betis to my fancy's eye
Presents himself with peaceful olive crowned,
Making his plaint that I have passed him by,—
His angry words now in my ears resound—
He asks that in this narrative, where I
Speak of rare intellects, place should be found
For those that dwell upon his banks, and so
With voice sonorous I his will shall do.

But what am I to do? For when I seek
To start, a thousand wonders I divine.
Many a Pindus' or Parnassus' peak,
And choirs of lovelier sisters than the nine,
Whereat my lofty spirits faint and weak
Become, and more when by some strange design
I hear a sound repeated as in echo,
Whene'er the name is namÈd of PACHECO.[155]

PACHECO 'tis whom Phoebus calls his friend,
On whom he and my sisters so discreet
Did from his feeble tender years attend
With new affection and new converse sweet;
I too his genius and his writings send
By strange paths never trod by mortal feet,
And ever have sent, till they rise on high
Unto the loftiest place of dignity.

Unto this pass I come, that, though I sing
With all my powers divine HERRERA'S[156] praise,
My wearied toil but little fruit will bring,
Although to the fifth sphere my words him raise;
But, should friendship's suspicions to me cling,
Upon his works and his true glory gaze,
HERNANDO doth by learning all enthral
From Ganges unto Nile, from pole to pole.

FERNANDO would I name to you again
DE CANGAS[157] surnamed, whom the world admires.
Through whom the learning lives and doth sustain
Itself that to the hallowed bays aspires;
If there be any intellect that fain
Would lift its gaze to the celestial fires,
Let it but gaze on him, and it will find
The loftiest and the most ingenious mind.

Concerning CRISTÓVAL, who hath the name
Of DE VILLAROEL,[158] ye must believe
That he full well deserveth that his name
Ne'er should oblivion's gloomy waters cleave;
His wit let all admire, his worth acclaim
With awe, his wit and worth let all receive
As the most exquisite we can discover,
Where'er the sun doth shine, or earth doth cover.

The streams of eloquence which did of old
Flow from the breast of stately Cicero,
Which, gladdening the Athenian people bold,
Did honour on Demosthenes bestow,
The minds o'er whom Time hath already rolled—
Who bore themselves so proudly long ago—
Master FRANCISCO DE MEDINA,[159] now
Let them before thy lofty learning bow.

Rightly thou canst, renownÈd Betis, now
With Mincio, Arno, and with Tiber vie,
Uplift in happiness thy hallowed brow,
And spread thee in new bosoms spaciously:
Since Heaven wished, that doth thy bliss allow,
Such fame to give thee, honour, dignity,
As he doth bring unto thy banks so fair,
BALTASAR DEL ALCÁZAR,[160] who dwells there.

Another ye will see, summed up in whom
Apollo's rarest learning will ye see,
Which doth the semblance of itself assume,
When spread through countless others it may be;
In him 'tis greater, in him it doth come
To such a height of excellence that he,
The Licentiate MOSQUERA[161] well can claim
To rival e'en Apollo's self in fame.

Behold! yon prudent man who doth adorn
And deck with sciences his limpid breast,
Shrinks not from gazing on the fountain born
In wisdom's waters from our mountain's crest;
In the clear peerless stream he doth not scorn
To quench his thirst, and thus thou flourishest,
DOMINGO DE BECERRA,[162] here on earth,
For all recount the mighty doctor's worth.

Words I might speak of famous ESPINEL[163]
That pass beyond the wit of human kind,
Concerning all the sciences that dwell,
Nurtured by Phoebus' breath, within his mind;
But since my tongue the least part cannot tell
Of the great things that in my soul I find,
I say no more save that he doth aspire
To Heaven, whether he take his pen or lyre.

If ruddy Phoebus ye would fain espy
With blood-red Mars in equal balance weighed,
On great CARRANZA[164] seek to cast an eye,
In whom each hath his constant dwelling made;
With such discretion, art, dexterity,
Hath he his power o'er pen and lance displayed
That the dexterity once cleft apart
He hath brought back to science and to art.

Of LÁZARO LUIS IRANZO,[165] lyre
Than mine must needs be tuned with better art,
To sing the good that Heaven doth inspire,
The worth that Heaven fosters in his heart:
By Mars' and Phoebus' path he doth inspire
To climb unto the lofty heights apart
Where human thought scarce reacheth, yet, despite
Fortune and fate, he will reach them aright.

BALTASAR DE ESCOBAR,[166] who doth adorn
The famÈd shores of Tiber's stream to-day,
Whom the broad banks of hallowed Betis mourn,
Their beauty lost when he is far away,
A fertile wit, if he perchance return
To his beloved native land, I pay
Unto his youthful and his honoured brow
The laurel and the honour that I owe.

JUAN SANZ, called DE ZUMETA,[167] with what power,
What honour, palm, or laurel shall be crowned,
If from the Indian to the ruddy Moor
No muse as his so perfect can be found?
Here I anew his fame to him restore
By telling you, my shepherds, how profound
Will be Apollo's joy at any praise
Which ye may bring to swell ZUMETA'S praise.

Unto JUAN DE LAS CUEVAS[168] fitting place
Give, shepherds, whensoever in this spot
He shall present himself. His muse's grace
And his rare wit this prize for him have wrought;
His works I know, though Time may flee apace,
In Time's despite, shall never be forgot,
From dread oblivion they shall free his name,
Which shall abide with bright and lofty fame.

If him ye ever see, with honour greet
The famous man, of whom I now shall tell,
And celebrate his praise in verses sweet,
As one who doth therein so much excel;
BIBALDO he—to make my tale complete,
ADAM BIBALDO[169]—who doth gild and swell
The glory of this happy age of ours
With the choice bloom of intellectual powers.

E'en as is wont to be with varied flowers
Adorned and wealthy made the flowery May,
With many varied sciences and powers
DON JUAN AGUAYO'S[170] intellect is gay;
Though I in praising him might pass the hours,
I say but this, that I now but essay,
And at another time I shall unfold
Things that your hearts with wonderment will hold.

DON JUAN GUTIÉRREZ RUFO'S[171] famous name
I wish in deathless memory to live,
That wise and foolish may alike acclaim
In wonderment his noble narrative;
Let hallowed Betis give to him the fame
His style doth merit, let them glory give
To him, who know, may Heaven with renown
Equal unto his towering flight him crown.

In DON LUIS DE GÓNGORA[172] I show
A rare and lively wit that hath no peer,
His works delight me, their wealth I bestow
Not on myself alone, but everywhere;
And if I merit aught, because ye know
My love for you, see that your praises bear
To endless life his lofty love profound
Despite the flight of time and death's cruel wound.

Let the green laurel, let the ivy green,
Nay, let the sturdy holm-oak crown the brow
Of GONZALO CERVANTES,[173] for I ween
Worthy of being crowned therewith art thou;
More than Apollo's learning in thee seen,
In thee doth Mars the burning ardour show
Of his mad rage, yet with so just a measure
That through thee he inspireth dread and pleasure.

Thou, who with thy sweet plectrum didst extol
Celidon's name and glory everywhere,
Whose wondrous and well-polished verses call
Thee unto laurels and to triumphs fair.
GONZALO GRACIÁN,[174] take the coronal,
Sceptre and throne from her who holds thee dear.
In token that the bard of Celidon
Deserveth to be Lord of Helicon.

Thou, Darro, far renownÈd stream of gold,
How well thou canst thyself exalt on high,
And with new current and new strength, behold,
Thou canst e'en with remote Hydaspes vie!
MATEO DE BERRÍO[175] maketh bold
To honour thee with every faculty
So that through him e'en now the voice of fame
Doth spread abroad through all the world thy name.

Of laurel green a coronal entwine,
That ye therewith the worthy brows may crown
Of SOTO BARAHONA,[176] shepherds mine,
A man of wisdom, eloquence, renown;
Although the holy flood, the fount divine
Of Helicon, should BARAHONA drown,
Mysterious chance! he yet would come to sight
As if he were upon Parnassus' height.

Within the realms antarctic I might say
That sovereign minds eternal fame attain,
For if these realms abound in wealth to-day,
Minds more than human also they contain;
In many now I can this truth display,
But I can give you plenteous store in twain,
One from New Spain, he an Apollo new,
The other, a sun unrivalled from Peru.

FRANCISCO DE TERRAZAS[177] is the name
Of one, renowned in Spain and in the West,
New Hippocrene his noble heart aflame
Hath given to his happy native nest;
Unto the other cometh equal fame,
Since by his heavenly genius he hath blest
Far Arequipa with eternal spring—
DIEGO MARTÍNEZ DE RIBERA[178] I sing.

Beneath a happy star a radiance bright
Here did flash forth, so rich in signal worth
That his renown its tiniest spark of light
From East to West hath spread o'er all the earth;
And when this light was born, all valorous might
Was born therewith, PICADO[179] had his birth,
Even my brother, Pallas' brother too,
Whose living semblance we in him did view.

If I must give the glory due to thee,
Great ALONSO DE ESTRADA,[180] thou to-day
Deservest that I should not hurriedly
Thy wisdom and thy wondrous mind display;
Thou dost enrich the land that ceaselessly
To Betis doth a bounteous tribute pay,
Unequal the exchange, for no reward
Can payment for so fair a debt afford.

DON JUAN, Heaven gave thee as the rare delight
Of this fair country with no grudging hand,
ÁVALOS' glory, and RIBERA'S[181] light,
Honour of Spain, of every foreign land,
Blest Spain, wherein with many a radiance bright
Thy works shall teach the world to understand
All that Nature can give us, rich and free,
Of genius bright and rare nobility.

He who is happy in his native land,
In Limar's limpid waters revelling,
The cooling winds and the renownÈd strand
With his divinest verses gladdening,—
Let him come, straightway ye will understand
From his spirit and discretion why I sing,
For SANCHO DE RIBERA[182] everywhere
Is Phoebus' self and Mars without a peer.

A Homer new this vale of high renown
Did once upon a time from Betis wrest,
On whom of wit and gallantry the crown
We can bestow—his greatness is confessed;
The Graces moulded him to be their own,
Heaven sendeth him in every grace the best,
Your Tagus' banks already know his fame,
PEDRO DE MONTESDOCA[183] is his name.

Wonder the illustrious DIEGO DE AGUILAR[184]
In everything the wish can ask inspires,
A royal eagle he, who flieth far
Unto a height whereto no man aspires;
His pen 'mongst thousands wins the spoil of war,
For before it the loftiest retires,
Guanuco will his style, his valour tell
Of such renown; Guanuco knows it well.

A GONZALO FERNÁNDEZ[185] draweth near,
A mighty captain in Apollo's host.
In whose heroic name that hath no peer,
SOTOMAYOR to-day doth make his boast;
His verse is wondrous and his wisdom clear
Where'er he is beheld from coast to coast,
And if his pen doth so much joy afford,
He is no less renownÈd by his sword.

HENRIQUE GARCÉS[186] the Peruvian land
Enricheth. There with sweet melodious rhyme,
With cunning, skilful, and with ready hand,
In him the hardest task did highest climb;
New speech, new praise he to the Tuscan grand
Hath given in the sweet Spanish of our time;
Who shall the greatest praises from him take,
E'en though Petrarch himself again awake?

FERNÁNDEZ DE PINEDA'S[187] talent rare
And excellent, and his immortal vein
Make him to be in no small part the heir
Of Hippocrene's waters without stain;
Since whatsoe'er he would therefrom, is ne'er
Denied him, since such glory he doth gain
In the far West, let him here claim the part
He now deserveth for his mind and art.

And thou that hast thy native Betis made,
With envy filled, to murmur righteously,
That thy sweet tuneful song hath been displayed
Unto another earth, another sky,
Noble JUAN DE MESTANZA,[188] undismayed
Rejoice, for whilst the fourth Heaven shall supply
Its light, thy name, resplendent in its worth,
Shall be without a peer o'er all the earth.

All that can e'er in a sweet vein be found
Of charm, ye will in one man only find,
Who bridleth to his muse's gladsome sound
The ocean's madness and the hurrying wind;
For BALTASAR DE ORENA[189] is renowned,
From pole to pole his fame, swift as the wind,
Doth run, and from the East unto the West,
True honour he of our Parnassus' crest.

A fruitful and a precious plant I know
That hath been to the highest mountain found
In Thessaly transplanted thence, and, lo!
A plant ere this with happy fruitage crowned;
Shall I be still nor tell what fame doth show
Of PEDRO DE ALVARADO[190] the renowned?
Renowned, yet no less brightly doth he shine,
For rare on earth is such a mind divine.

Thou, who with thy new muse of wondrous grace
Art of the moods of love, CAIRASCO,[191] singing,
And of that common varying fickleness,
Where cowards 'gainst the brave themselves are flinging;
If from the Grand Canary to this place
Thou art thy quick and noble ardour bringing,
A thousand laurels, for thou hast deserved,
My shepherds offer, praises well-deserved.

What man, time-honoured Tormes, would deny
That thou canst e'en the Nile itself excel,
If VEGA in thy praises can outvie
E'en Tityrus who did of Mincio tell?
DAMIÁN,[192] I know thy genius riseth high
To where this honour doth thine honours swell,
For my experience of many years
Thy knowledge and thy virtue choice declares.

Although thy genius and thy winning grace,
FRANCISCO SÁNCHEZ,[193] were to give me leave,
If I dared form the wish to hymn thy praise,
Censure should I for lack of skill receive;
None but a master-tongue, whose dwelling place
Is in the heavens, can be the tongue to achieve
The lengthy course and of thy praises speak,
For human tongue is for this task too weak.

The things that an exalted spirit show,
The things that are so rare, so new in style,
Which fame, esteem, and knowledge bring to view
By hundred thousand proofs of wit and toil,
Cause me to give the praises that are due
To DON FRANCISCO DE LAS CUEVAS,[194] while
Fame that proclaims the tidings everywhere,
Seeks not to linger in her swift career.

At such a time as this I would have crowned
My sweet song gladly, shepherds, with the praise
Of one whose genius doth the world astound,
And could your senses ravish and amaze;
In him the union and the sum is found
Of all I have praised and have yet to praise;
FRAY LUIS DE LEÓN[195] it is I sing,
Whom I love and adore, to whom I cling.

What means, what ways of praise shall I achieve,
What pathways that yon great MATÍAS' name
May in the world for countless ages live,
Who hath ZUÑIGA[196] for his other name?
Unto him all my praises let me give,
Though he is man and I immortal am,
Because his genius truly is divine,
Worthily praise and honour in him shine.

Turn ye the thought that passeth speedily
Unto Pisuerga's lovely banks divine,
Ye will see how the lofty minds whereby
They are adorned, enrich this tale of mine;
And not the banks alone, but e'en the sky,
Wherein the stars resplendent ever shine,
Itself assuredly can honour claim,
When it receives the men whom now I name.

Thou, DAMASIO DE FRÍAS,[197] canst alone
Thy praises utter, for, although our chief,
Even Apollo's self should praise thee, none
But could be in thy praises all too brief;
Thou art the pole-star that hath ever shone
Certain and sure, that sendeth sweet relief
From storm, and favouring gales, and safe to shore
Brings him who saileth wisdom's ocean o'er.

ANDRÉS SANZ DEL PORTILLO,[198] send to me
That breath, I pray, whereby Phoebus doth move
Thy learned pen, and lofty fantasy,
That I may praise thee as it doth behove;
For my rough tongue will never able be,
Whate'er the ways it here may try and prove,
To find a way of praising as I would
All that I feel and see in thee of good.

Happiest of minds, thou towerest in thy flight
Above Apollo's highest, with thy ray
So bright, thou givest to our darkness light,
Thou guidest us, however far we stray;
And though thou dost now blind me with thy light
And hast my mind o'erwhelmÈd with dismay,
Glory beyond the rest I give to thee,
For, SORIA,[199] glory thou hast given to me.

If, famous CANTORAL,[200] so rich a meed
Of praise thy works achieve in every part,
Thou of my praises wilt have little need,
Unless I praise thee with new mode and art;
With words significant of noble deed,
With all the skill that Heaven doth impart,
I marvel, praise in silence, thus I reach
A height I cannot hope to gain by speech.

If I to sing thy praise have long delayed,
Thou, VACA Y DE QUIÑONES,[201] mayst forgive
The past forgetfulness I have displayed
And the repentance I now show receive,
For with loud cries and proclamation made
O'er the broad world this task I shall achieve
In open and in secret, that thy fame
Shall spread abroad, and brightly gleam thy name.

Thy rich and verdant strand no juniper
Enricheth, nor sad cypress; but a crown
Of laurels and of myrtles it doth wear,
Bright Ebro, rich in waters and renown,
As best I can, I now thy praise declare,
Praising that bliss which Heaven hath sent down
Unto thy banks, for geniuses more bright
Dwell on thy banks e'en than the stars of night.

Two brothers witnesses will be thereto,
Two daysprings they, twin suns of poesy,
On whom all that it could of art bestow
And genius, Heaven lavished bounteously;
Thoughts of wise age, though still in youthful glow,
Converse mature, and lovely fantasy,
Fashion a worthy, deathless aureola
For LUPERCIO LEONARDO DE ARGENSOLA.[202]

With envy blest, in holy rivalry
Methinks the younger brother doth aspire
To match the elder, since he riseth high
To where no human eye e'er riseth higher;
Wherefore he writes and sings melodiously
Histories countless with so sweet a lyre
That young BARTOLOMÉ[203] hath well deserved
Whatever for LUPERCIO is reserved.

If good beginning and a sequence fair
Inspire the hope of an illustrious close
In everything, my mind may now declare
That thus thou shalt exalt o'er all its foes,
COSME PARIENTE.[204] Thus thou canst with rare
Confidence to thy wise and noble brows
Promise the crown that rightly hath been gained
By thy bright intellect and life unstained.

MURILLO,[205] thou dost dwell in solitude,
Heaven thy companion, and dost there display
That other muses, cleverer and more good,
Ne'er leave thy Christian side and go away;
Thou from my sisters didst receive thy food,
And now thou dost, this kindness to repay,
Guide us and teach us heavenly things to sing,
Pleasing to Heaven, and this world profiting.

Turia, who loudly didst of old proclaim
The excellence of the children born to thee,
If thou shouldst hearken to the words I frame,
Moved by no envy, by no rivalry.
Thou wilt hear how by those whom I shall name,
Thy fame is bettered; their presence with thee,
Their valour, virtue, genius, are thy dower,
And make thee o'er Indus and Ganges tower.

DON JUAN COLOMA,[206] thou within whose breast
Hath been enclosed so much of Heaven's grace,
Who hast with bridle stern envy repressed,
And given to fame a thousand tongues to blaze,
From Tagus to the kingdom fruitfulest,
Abroad thy name and worth in words of praise,
COUNT DE ELDA, blest in all, thou dost bestow
On Turia greater fame than that of Po.

He in whose breast a spring that is divine
Through him, doth ever copiously abound,
To whom his choir of flashing lights incline,
And rightly—they their Lord in him have found—
Who should by all, from Ethiop 'neath the Line
To Eskimo, with name unique be crowned,
DON LUIS GARCERÁN[207] is peerless, bright,
Grand Master of Montesa, world's delight.

Within this famous vale he should receive
A place illustrious, an abode renowned,
He to whom fame the name would gladly give
Wherewith his intellect is fitly crowned;
Be it the care of Heaven to achieve
His praise—from Heaven comes his worth profound—
And laud what is beyond my faculties
In DON ALONSO REBOLLEDO[208] wise.

DOCTOR FALCÓN,[209] so lofty is thy flight
That thou beyond the lordly eagle high
Dost rise; thy genius unto Heaven's height
Ascends, leaving this vale of misery;
Wherefore I fear, wherefore I dread aright
That, though I praise thee, thou wilt yet espy
Cause of complaint in that for nights and days
My voice and tongue I use not in thy praise.

If e'en as fortune doth, sweet poesy
Had but an ever-changing wheel possessed,
Swifter in speed than Dian through the sky,
Which was not, is not, ne'er shall be at rest,
Thereon let MICER ARTIEDA[210] lie—
The wheel unchanged the while amid the test—
And he would ever keep the topmost place
For knowledge, intellect, and virtue's grace.

The goodly shower of praises thou didst pour
Upon the rarest intellects and best.
Alone thou meritest and dost secure,
Alone thou dost secure and meritest;
GIL POLO,[211] let thy hopes be firm and sure,
That in this vale thy ashes will find rest
In a new tomb by these my shepherds reared,
Wherein they will be guarded and revered.

CRISÓOBAL DE VIRUES,[212] since thou dost vaunt
A knowledge and a worth like to thy years,
Thyself the genius and the virtue chant
Wherewith thou fleest the world's beguiling fears;
A fruitful land and a well-nurtured plant—
In Spain and foreign lands I shall rehearse
And for the fruit of thy exalted mind
Win fame and honour and affection kind.

If like unto the mind he doth display
SILVESTRE DE ESPINOSA'S[213] praise must be,
A voice more skilled were needed and more gay
A longer time and greater faculty;
But since my voice he guideth on the way,
This guerdon true shall I bestow, that he
May have the blessing Delos' god doth bring
To the choice flood of Hippocrene's spring.

The world adorning as he comes in view
Amongst them an Apollo I behold,
GARCIA ROMERO,[214] discreet, gallant too,
Worthiest of being in this list enrolled;
If dark Peneus' child, whose story true
Hath been in Ovid's chronicles retold,
Had found him in the plains of Thessaly,
Not laurel, but ROMERO[215] would she be.

It breaks the silence and the hallowed bound,
Pierces the air, and riseth to the sky,
The heavenly, hallowed, and heroic sound
That speaks in FRAY PEDRO DE HUETE'S[216] cry;
Of his exalted intellect profound
Fame sang, sings and shall sing unceasingly,
Taking his works as witness of her song
To spread amazement all the world among.

Needs must I now to the last end draw near,
And of the greatest deed I e'er designed
Make a beginning now, which shall, I fear,
Move unto bitter wrath Apollo kind;
Since, although style be wanting, I prepare
To praise with rustic and untutored mind
Two suns that Spain, the country of their birth,
Illumine, and moreover all the earth.

Apollo's hallowed, honourable lore,
Discretion of a courtier mature,
And years well-spent, experience, which a store
Of countless prudent counsels doth assure,
Acuteness of intellect, a ready power
To mark and to resolve whate'er obscure
Difficulty and doubt before them comes,—
Each of these in these twin suns only blooms.

Now, shepherds, I in these two poets find
An epilogue to this my lengthy lay;
Though I for them the praises have designed
Which ye have heard, I do not them repay;
For unto them is debtor every mind,
From them I win contentment every day,
Contentment from them winneth all the earth
E'en wonder, for 'tis Heaven gives them birth.

In them I wish to end my melody,
Yet I begin an admiration new,
And if ye think I go too far, when I
Say who they are, behold, I vanquish you;
By them I am exalted to the sky,
And without them shame ever is my due;
'Tis LÁINEZ,[217] FIGUEROA[218] 'tis I name
Worthy eternal and unceasing fame.