Note 1, Page 1.

Scipio. This general was the famous Publius Scipio Aemilianus Africanus Minor. His first campaign in Spain was in the year B.C. 151, when he acted as "legatus" to the Consul Lucius Licinius Lucullus, who was then engaged in the conquest of the Celtiberians. He greatly distinguished himself at the siege of Intercacia, where he was the first to scale the battlements, and received for his exploit a mural crown. He also displayed his personal courage in fighting single-handed and slaying a mighty Spanish giant, who used to insult and defy the whole Roman camp. He was then about thirty-four years of age. In the year B.C. 147 he was elected Consul and sent to Africa, where he fulfilled the stern mandate of the Senate: "Delenda est Carthago!" and became the most renowned warrior of his age. In the year B.C. 134, when affairs in Spain were at the lowest ebb, and the Numantines had thoroughly cowed the Romans, Scipio was again made Consul, and sent to do what no one else was thought competent to do—to bring the siege of Numantia to a final end. The result is well-known, and details may be found in the pages of Floras, Appian, Plutarch, and Livy. A very graphic summary of these is given in the third book of Mariana's Historia de EspaÑa. The vivid picture presented in this tragedy of Cervantes may suffice, however, for the present generation. Though Scipio is therein represented simply as the chief minister of Fate, yet his personality stands boldly out; and his character as accomplished scholar, stern disciplinarian, and cautious tactician, is very skilfully pourtrayed. His stirring address to the soldiers is a perfect epitome of his whole military creed. The fall of Numantia was the sensation of the day throughout the empire, and the last great military feat of Scipio. It settled the fate of Spain for many a long year. Scipio entered Rome in triumph, and the Senate added to his other titles that of "Numantinus."

Note 2, Page 1.

Jugurtha. This notorious Numidian prince, the illegitimate son of Manastabal, grandson of Masanissa, and the nephew of Mecipsa, king of Numidia, was sent by his uncle to give succour to Scipio during the siege of Numantia. He arrived there with a train of ten elephants, and a goodly array of horse and foot. His uncle's secret design, however, was to get rid of him, as a dangerous rival to his own sons, Adherbal and Hiempsal, in the succession to the crown. This, however, was not to be. Jugurtha not only survived the campaign, but so distinguished himself, that he became a prime favourite of Scipio, and returned to his native country with added lustre to his name, and stores of military experience. His after-career, adventurous, reckless, and unfortunate, which led him at last to the Mamertine prisons in Rome, does not concern us. It is to be found, as every schoolboy knows, in the brilliant pages of Sallustius, De bello Jugurthino.

Note 3, Page 2.

Caius Marius. This man, whom Cervantes represents as a bluff, quick-witted, daring soldier, was the celebrated Caius Marius, a plebeian by birth, and the cruel scourge of the patricians in after times. He was only twenty-three years of age at the date of the siege, and was still in the ranks. His peculiar military qualities gained him the good-will of Scipio, who used often to invite him to his table. On one occasion, when the question was asked where a similar general to Scipio could be found when he was gone, Scipio placed his hand on the shoulder of Marius and said smilingly, "There, perhaps!" The glory and experience he gained under Scipio's auspices were the foundation of his future fortunes. Strange to say, when twenty years afterwards he rode in triumphal procession through the streets of Rome on account of his victories in Africa, the principal captive who graced his triumph was his old Numantian comrade, Jugurtha, in chains. The prince and the peasant had met again, but under what altered circumstances!

Note 4, Page 6.

Full sixteen years and more. According to the Latin historians, the war with Numantia lasted fourteen years, and the close siege under Scipio, a year and three months. The ruins of Numantia are still to be seen at Puente de Garray, near the source of the Duero, about five miles from Soria, an ancient town of Old Castile. The present remains, however, are principally imperial, and prove that the town must afterwards have been rebuilt. Numantia was a stronghold by nature. It was situated on a little hill precipitous on three sides, and on the fourth, looking towards the north, sloping down to a spacious plain, covered with thick forests and fertile fields, watered by the Tera, a tributary of the Duero. From its commanding position in the centre of northern Spain, it served as a bulwark to check the advance of the Roman legions, and also as a city of refuge for the oppressed tribes. According to Cervantes its warriors amounted only to three thousand:—

Some historians estimate the number at eight thousand, and even this seems too small for the grandeur of their achievements. On one occasion (three years before the advent of Scipio) when the Consul, Caius Hostilius Mancinus, raised the siege in despair, and attempted to escape through the defiles of the mountain by night, the Numantines sallied forth in force, slaughtered 20,000 of the Roman troops, and allowed the rest to capitulate, under condition of signing a perpetual peace with Numantia, and retiring to Rome. The Roman Senate repudiated the transaction, and sent back the disgraced Consul to submit to the mercy of the Numantines. Thereafter it was found necessary to concentrate the whole military talent of Rome on the reduction of this proud city. The siege of Numantia, like that of Saguntum, displayed in a marvellous way the tenacity, vigour, and reckless heroism of the aboriginal tribes of Spain. It was, therefore, with a pardonable pride that Cervantes, intent on rousing the patriotic feeling of his countrymen, addressed them as:—

Note 5, Page 20.

Thou gentle Douro. This passage in the original is admired for its exquisite sweetness. We give it as a specimen of the melodious octaves of Cervantes:—

This famous river (the Durius of the Romans) we prefer calling, in Portuguese fashion, the Douro, as being a name more familiar to English ears, and more amenable, too, to the laws of rhythm.

Note 6, Page 22.

And, forcing way into the Vatican. The event here alluded to is the fearful sack of Rome, in 1527, perpetrated by a portion of the army of Charles V. under the command of the Constable de Bourbon, when the Pope took refuge, and was besieged, in the castle of St. Angelo. The "Pilot of the Sacred Bark" was Clement VII.

Note 7, Page 23.

The great Albano he. This is a poetical name for Fernando Alvarez de Toledo, the Duke of Alva, who was famous for many things and infamous for more. The exploit referred to is the siege of Rome by Alva, after the battle of St. Quentin, 1557, when the French, who were allies of Pope Paul IV. against the Spaniards, had to leave Italy to save their own capital and country. In the time of Cervantes, no doubt, this siege was looked upon with pride as a "brandishing of the Spanish knife above the Roman neck," but in the light of history we see nothing more than a mock siege, a mock defence, and a mock withdrawal. Alva's hands were thoroughly fettered by his devout master, Philip II., who feared to humiliate the Pope too much, lest he should lose his title of "Most Catholic Majesty." This event is narrated with sarcastic brevity by Motley in the third book of his "History of the Netherlands."

Note 8, Page 23.

The second Philip, second yet to none. No doubt Philip II., at this period, had more power in his hand than had ever been held by a purely Spanish king. Motley, in his characteristic way, thus sums up his many titles: "He was king of all the Spanish kingdoms, and of both the Sicilies. He was titular king of England, France, and Jerusalem. He was 'Absolute Dominator' in Asia, Africa, and America. He was Duke of Milan, and both the Burgundies, and Hereditary Sovereign of the Seventeen Netherlands." To all this mighty inheritance he himself added the crown of Portugal. Cervantes took a part, maimed as he was, in this conquest, and it is, therefore, with legitimate pride that he speaks of the "Lusitanian banner that had been knit anew to the stately robes of Castile." Sixty years, however, sufficed to tear it asunder again. What Cervantes thought of Philip as a man and a ruler we can only conjecture. Twelve years after, in 1598, when the life of this monster of cruel bigotry had come to an end, and pompous funeral rites were everywhere being celebrated, we find Cervantes standing in the cathedral of Seville gazing on the astounding catafalque raised in honour of the deceased, and reciting with a roguish air that famous sonnet of his, beginning, "I vow to God this grandeur stuns my brain!" This sonnet, which Cervantes prized as the prime honour of his writings (honra principal de mis escritos), and which his countrymen regard as a model of exquisite raillery, was certainly not intended to do honour to the dead. Philip was no friend of poets, players, or outspoken thinkers, and literature breathed again when he expired. For a translation of the sonnet, see Gibson's translation of the "Journey to Parnassus," p. 375.

Note 9, Page 51.

The Body. Ticknor, who is certainly not over-lavish at any time in his praise of Cervantes, declares that the incantations of Marquino surpass in dignity those of the Faustus of Marlowe, who was a contemporary of Cervantes. He also affirms, that not even Shakespeare, when he presents on the stage the armed head raised up, under constraint, to reply to the criminal enquiries of Macbeth, excites so much our sympathy and horror as does Cervantes with that tormented spirit, which returns to life only to suffer a second time the pangs of dissolution and death. We give here the original of the speech of the resuscitated corpse, which Bouterwek describes as terrific:—

EL CUERPO.

Throughout this scene, the pompous solemnity of the regular priests and the mock-heroic fury of Marquino are cleverly contrasted. Cervantes, who from his readings was familiar with all sorts of wizards and enchanters, makes Marquino a kind of old-world Merlin, kept, however, under necessary tragic restraint. The time had not yet come for the humours of "Don Quixote."

Note 10, Page 65.

Sons of mothers, sad in lot. This spirited speech of one of the Numantine wives has the true Spartan ring in it, of which our translation is but a feeble echo. We give the most effective part of it in the original:—

Note 11, Page 69.

Cause that these wretched Romans. The morale of the tragedy as a whole is so perfect, and the character of Theogenes, as represented, is so noble and chivalrous, that this savage decree of his seems strange and out of keeping. There are, it is true, more brutal things presented in "Titus Andronicus," but that is hardly a model of tragic dignity and decorum. The Latin historians tell us that when the crisis arrived the Numantine citizens ate raw flesh, and drugged themselves with a liquor called Celia, to madden themselves for the unnatural slaughter; but, artistically speaking, there was no necessity to give such things prominence especially in the mouth of Theogenes.

Note 12, Page 70.

Morandro. Bouterwek says: "The transition into light redondillas, for the purpose of interweaving with the serious business of the fable the loves of a young Numantine, named Morandro, and his mistress, is certainly a fault in the composition of the tragedy. But to this fault we are indebted for some of the finest scenes in the drama." We agree with the latter assertion, but not with the former. Neither Nature nor Art forbids the combination; and if love was to be introduced at all into such a play, the redondilla measure, on the Spanish stage at least, was de rigeur. It seems to us that the little ray of sunshine let into the surrounding gloom, and then suddenly extinguished, gives a deeper intensity to the supervening darkness. These love-scenes, moreover, if such they may be called, for they are very saddening, lead up to some of the most tragic scenes of the drama. Ticknor has rendered the whole scene with much spirit, but not in the metre, nor with the simplicity, of the original. We give two short extracts. The first contains the opening stanzas:—

Morandro.

The second extract is the parting scene, which is justly praised for its pathetic tenderness:—

Lira.

Note 13, Page 109.

I saw within the middle of the square. This fine description of the end of Theogenes, as seen and described by Marius, may fitly wind up our extracts from the original. It is written in very vigorous Tercets, a form of verse in which Cervantes was more expert than in any other:—

Note 14, Page 112.

Viriato. It is a touch of genius, on Cervantes' part, to give this youth, who concentrates at last in his own person all the heroism of his nation, the name of the illustrious Lusitanian hero, Viriatus, the William Wallace of his age and country, who for more than a decade was the terror of the Romans and the pride of his nation, and who, like the Scottish hero, was at last done to death by treachery.

End of the Notes.

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