SECOND PERIOD.

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The Literature that existed in Spain from the Accession of the Austrian Family to its Extinction, or from the Beginning of the Sixteenth Century to the End of the Seventeenth.


HISTORY
OF
SPANISH LITERATURE.


SECOND PERIOD.


CHAPTER I.

Periods of Literary Success and National Glory. — Charles the Fifth. — Hopes of Universal Empire. — Luther. — Contest of the Romish Church with Protestantism. — Protestant Books. — The Inquisition. — Index Expurgatorius. — Suppression of Protestantism in Spain. — Persecution. — Religious Condition of the Country and its Effects.

In every country that has yet obtained a rank among those nations whose intellectual cultivation is the highest, the period in which it has produced the permanent body of its literature has been that of its glory as a state. The reason is obvious. There is then a spirit and activity abroad among the elements that constitute the national character, which naturally express themselves in such poetry and eloquence as, being the result of the excited condition of the people and bearing its impress, become for all future exertions a model and standard that can be approached only when the popular character is again stirred by a similar enthusiasm. Thus, the age of Pericles naturally followed the great Persian war; the age of Augustus was that of a universal tranquillity produced by universal conquest; the age of MoliÈre and La Fontaine was that in which Louis the Fourteenth was carrying the outposts of his consolidated monarchy far into Germany; and the ages of Elizabeth and Anne were the ages of the Armada and of Marlborough.

Just so it was in Spain. The central point in Spanish history is the capture of Granada. During nearly eight centuries before that decisive event, the Christians of the Peninsula were occupied with conflicts at home, that gradually developed their energies, amidst the sternest trials and struggles, till the whole land was filled to overflowing with a power which had hardly yet been felt in the rest of Europe. But no sooner was the last Moorish fortress yielded up, than this accumulated flood broke loose from the mountains behind which it had so long been hidden, and threatened, at once, to overspread the best portions of the civilized world. In less than thirty years, Charles the Fifth, who had inherited, not only Spain, but Naples, Sicily, and the Low Countries, and into whose treasury the untold wealth of the Indies was already beginning to pour, was elected Emperor of Germany, and undertook a career of foreign conquest such as had not been imagined since the days of Charlemagne. Success and glory seemed to wait for him as he advanced. In Europe, he extended his empire, till it checked the hated power of Islamism in Turkey; in Africa, he garrisoned Tunis and overawed the whole coast of Barbary; in America, CortÉs and Pizarro were his bloody lieutenants, and achieved for him conquests more vast than were conceived in the dreams of Alexander; while, beyond the wastes of the Pacific, he stretched his discoveries to the Philippines, and so completed the circuit of the globe.This was the brilliant aspect which the fortunes of his country offered to an intelligent and imaginative Spaniard in the first half of the sixteenth century.[741] For, as we well know, such men then looked forward with confidence to the time when Spain would be the head of an empire more extensive than the Roman, and seem sometimes to have trusted that they themselves should live to witness and share its glory. But their forecast was imperfect. A moral power was at work, destined to divide Europe anew, and place the domestic policy and the external relations of its principal countries upon unwonted foundations. The monk Luther was already become a counterpoise to the military master of so many kingdoms; and from 1552, when Moritz of Saxony deserted the Imperial standard, and the convention of Passau asserted for the Protestants the free exercise of their religion, the clear-sighted conqueror may himself have understood, that his ambitious hopes of a universal empire, whose seat should be in the South of Europe and whose foundations should be laid in the religion of the Church of Rome, were at an end.

But the question, where the line should be drawn between the great contending parties, was long the subject of fierce wars. The struggle began with the enunciation of Luther’s ninety-five propositions, and his burning the Pope’s bulls at Wittenberg. It was ended, as far as it is yet ended, by the peace of Westphalia. During the hundred and thirty years that elapsed between these two points, Spain was indeed far removed from the fields where the most cruel battles of the religious wars were fought; but how deep was the interest the Spanish people took in the contest is plain from the bitterness of their struggle against the Protestant princes of Germany; from the vast efforts they made to crush the Protestant rebellion in the Netherlands; from the expedition of the Armada against Protestant England; and from the interference of Philip the Second in the affairs of Henry the Third and Henry the Fourth, when, during the League, Protestantism seemed to be gaining ground in France;—in short, it may be seen from the presence of Spain and her armies in every part of Europe, where it was possible to reach and assail the great movement of the Reformation.

Those, however, who were so eager to check the power of Protestantism when it was afar off would not be idle when the danger drew near to their own homes.[742] The first alarm seems to have come from Rome. In March, 1521, Papal briefs were sent to Spain, warning the Spanish government to prevent the further introduction of books written by Luther and his followers, which, it was believed, had been secretly penetrating into the country for about a year. These briefs, it should be observed, were addressed to the civil administration, which still, in form at least, kept an entire control over such subjects. But it was more natural, and more according to the ideas then prevalent in other countries as well as in Spain, to look to the ecclesiastical power for remedies in a matter connected with religion; and the great body of the Spanish people seems willingly to have done so. In less than a month, therefore, from the date of the briefs in question, and perhaps even before they were received in Spain, the Grand Inquisitor addressed an order to the tribunals under his jurisdiction, requiring them to search for and seize all books supposed to contain the doctrines of the new heresy. It was a bold measure, but it was a successful one.[743] The government gladly countenanced it; for, in whatever form Protestantism appeared, it came with more or less of the spirit of resistance to all the favorite projects of the Emperor; and the people countenanced it, because, except a few scattered individuals, all true Spaniards regarded Luther and his followers with hardly more favor than they did Mohammed or the Jews.

Meantime, the Supreme Council, as the highest body in the Inquisition was called, proceeded in their work with a firm and equal step. By successive decrees, between 1521 and 1535, it was ordained, that all persons who kept in their possession books infected with the doctrines of Luther, and even all who failed to denounce such persons, should be excommunicated and subjected to degrading punishments. This gave the Inquisition a right to inquire into the contents and character of whatever books were already printed. Next, they arrogated to themselves the power to determine what books might be sent to the press; claiming it gradually and with little noise, but effectually,[744] and if, at first, without any direct grant of authority from the Pope or from the king of Spain, still necessarily with the implied assent of both, and generally with means furnished by one or the other. At last, a sure expedient was found, which left no doubt of the process to be used, and very little as to the results that would follow.

In 1539, Charles the Fifth obtained a Papal bull authorizing him to procure from the University of Louvain, in Flanders, where the Lutheran controversy would naturally be better understood than in Spain, a list of books dangerous to be introduced into his dominions. It was printed in 1546, and was the first “Index Expurgatorius” published in Spain, and the second in the world. Subsequently it was submitted by the Emperor to the Supreme Council of the Inquisition, under whose authority additions were made to it; after which it was promulgated anew in 1550, thus consummating the Inquisitorial jurisdiction over this great lever of modern progress and civilization,—a jurisdiction, it should be noted, which was confirmed and enforced by the most tremendous of all human penalties, when, in 1558, Philip the Second ordained the punishments of confiscation and death against any person who should sell, buy, or keep in his possession any book prohibited by the Index Expurgatorius of the Inquisition.[745]

The contest with Protestantism in Spain, under such auspices, was short. It began in earnest and in blood about 1559, and was substantially ended in 1570. At one period, the new doctrine had made some progress in the monasteries and among the clergy; and though it never became formidable from the numbers it enlisted, yet many of those who joined its standard were distinguished by their learning, their rank, or their general intelligence. But the higher and more shining the mark, the more it attracted notice and the more surely it was reached. The Inquisition had already existed seventy years and was at the height of its power and favor. Cardinal Ximenes, one of the boldest and most far-sighted statesmen, and one of the sternest bigots the world ever saw, had for a long period united in his own person the office of Civil Administrator of Spain with that of Grand Inquisitor, and had used the extraordinary powers such a position gave him to confirm the Inquisition at home and to spread it over the newly discovered continent of America.[746] His successor was Cardinal Adrien, the favored preceptor of Charles the Fifth, who filled nearly two years the places of Grand Inquisitor and of Pope; so that, for a season, the highest ecclesiastical authority was made to minister to the power of the Inquisition in Spain, as the highest political authority had done before.[747] And now, after an interval of twenty years, had come Philip the Second, wary, inflexible, unscrupulous, at the head of an empire on which, it was boasted, the sun never set, consecrating all his own great energies and all the resources of his vast dominions to the paramount object of extirpating every form of heresy from the countries under his control, and consolidating the whole into one grand religious empire.Still, the Inquisition, regarded as the chief outward means of driving the Lutheran doctrines from Spain, might have failed to achieve its work, if the people, as well as the government, had not been its earnest allies. But, on all such subjects, the current in Spain had, from the first, taken only one direction. Spaniards had contended against misbelief with so implacable a hatred, for centuries, that the spirit of that old contest had become one of the elements of their national existence; and now, having expelled the Jews and reduced the Moors to submission, they turned themselves, with the same fervent zeal, to purify their soil from what they trusted would prove the last trace of heretical pollution. To achieve this great object, Pope Paul the Fourth, in 1558,—the same year in which Philip the Second had decreed the most odious and awful penalties of the civil government in aid of the Inquisition,—granted a brief, by which all the preceding dispositions of the Church against heretics were confirmed, and the tribunals of the Inquisition were authorized and required to proceed against all persons supposed to be infected with the new belief, even though such persons might be bishops, archbishops, or cardinals, dukes, princes, kings, or emperors;—a power which, taken in all its relations, was more formidable to the progress of intellectual improvement than had ever before been granted to any body of men, civil or ecclesiastical.[748]

The portentous authority thus given was at once freely exercised. The first public auto da fÉ of Protestants was held at Valladolid in 1559, and others followed, both there and elsewhere.[749] The royal family was occasionally present; several persons of rank suffered; and a general popular favor evidently followed the horrors that were perpetrated. The number of victims was not large when compared with earlier periods, seldom exceeding twenty burned at one time, and fifty or sixty subjected to cruel and degrading punishments; but many of those who suffered were, as the nature of the crimes alleged against them implied, among the leading and active minds of their age. Men of learning were particularly obnoxious to suspicion, since the cause of Protestantism appealed directly to learning for its support. Sanchez, the best classical scholar of his time in Spain, Luis de Leon, the best Hebrew critic and the most eloquent preacher, and Mariana, the chief Spanish historian, with other men of letters of inferior name and consideration, were summoned before the tribunals of the Inquisition, in order that they might at least avow their submission to its authority, even if they were not subjected to its censures.

Nor were persons of the holiest lives and the most ascetic tempers beyond the reach of its mistrust, if they but showed a tendency to inquiry. Thus, Juan de Avila, known under the title of the Apostle of Andalusia, and Luis de Granada, the devout mystic, with Teresa de Jesus and Juan de la Cruz, both of whom were afterwards canonized by the Church of Rome, all passed through its cells, or in some shape underwent its discipline. So did some of the ecclesiastics most distinguished by their rank and authority. Carranza, Archbishop of Toledo and Primate of Spain, after being tormented eighteen years by its persecutions, died, at last, in craven submission to its power; and Cazella, who had been a favorite chaplain of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, perished in its fires. Even the faith of the principal personages of the kingdom was inquired into, and, at different times, proceedings, sufficient, at least, to assert its authority, were instituted in relation to Don John of Austria, and the formidable Duke of Alva;[750] proceedings, however, which must be regarded rather as matters of show than of substance, since the whole institution was connected with the government from the first, and became more and more subservient to the policy of the successive masters of the state, as its tendencies were developed in successive reigns.

The great purpose, therefore, of the government and the Inquisition may be considered as having been fulfilled in the latter part of the reign of Philip the Second,—farther, at least, than such a purpose was ever fulfilled in any other Christian country, and farther than it is ever likely to be again fulfilled elsewhere. The Spanish nation was then become, in the sense they themselves gave to the term, the most thoroughly religious nation in Europe; a fact signally illustrated in their own eyes a few years afterward, when it was deemed desirable to expel the remains of the Moorish race from the Peninsula, and six hundred thousand peaceable and industrious subjects were, from religious bigotry, cruelly driven out of their native country, amidst the devout exultation of the whole kingdom,—Cervantes, Lope de Vega, and others of the principal men of genius then alive, joining in the general jubilee.[751] From this time, the voice of religious dissent can hardly be said to have been heard in the land; and the Inquisition, therefore, down to its overthrow in 1808, was chiefly a political engine, much occupied about cases connected with the policy of the state, though under the pretence that they were cases of heresy or unbelief. The great body of the Spanish people rejoiced alike in their loyalty and their orthodoxy; and the few who differed in faith from the mass of their fellow-subjects were either held in silence by their fears, or else sunk away from the surface of society the moment their disaffection was suspected.

The results of such extraordinary traits in the national character could not fail to be impressed upon the literature of any country, and particularly upon a literature which, like that of Spain, had always been strongly marked by the popular temperament and peculiarities. But the period was not one in which such traits could be produced with poetical effect. The ancient loyalty, which had once been so generous an element in the Spanish character and cultivation, was now infected with the ambition of universal empire, and was lavished upon princes and nobles who, like the later Philips and their ministers, were unworthy of its homage; so that, in the Spanish historians and epic poets of this period, and even in more popular writers, like Quevedo and Calderon, we find a vainglorious admiration of their country, and a poor flattery of royalty and rank, that remind us of the old Castilian pride and deference only by showing how both had lost their dignity. And so it is with the ancient religious feeling that was so nearly akin to this loyalty. The Christian spirit, which gave an air of duty to the wildest forms of adventure throughout the country, during its long contest with the power of misbelief, was now fallen away into a low and anxious bigotry, fierce and intolerant towards every thing that differed from its own sharply defined faith, and yet so pervading and so popular, that the romances and tales of the time are full of it, and the national theatre, in more than one form, becomes its strange and grotesque monument.

Of course, the body of Spanish poetry and eloquent prose produced during this interval—the earlier part of which was the period of the greatest glory Spain ever enjoyed—was injuriously affected by so diseased a condition of the national character. That generous and manly spirit which is the breath of intellectual life to any people was restrained and stifled. Some departments of literature, such as forensic eloquence and eloquence of the pulpit, satirical poetry, and elegant didactic prose, hardly appeared at all; others, like epic poetry, were strangely perverted and misdirected; while yet others, like the drama, the ballads, and the lighter forms of lyrical verse, seemed to grow exuberant and lawless, from the very restraints imposed on the rest; restraints which, in fact, forced poetical genius into channels where it would otherwise have flowed much more scantily and with much less luxuriant results.

The books that were published during the whole period on which we are now entering, and indeed for a century later, bore everywhere marks of the subjection to which the press and those who wrote for it were alike reduced. From the abject title-pages and dedications of the authors themselves, through the crowd of certificates collected from their friends to establish the orthodoxy of works that were often as little connected with religion as fairy tales, down to the colophon, supplicating pardon for any unconscious neglect of the authority of the Church or any too free use of classical mythology, we are continually oppressed with painful proofs, not only how completely the human mind was enslaved in Spain, but how grievously it had become cramped and crippled by the chains it had so long worn.

But we shall be greatly in error, if, as we notice these deep marks and strange peculiarities in Spanish literature, we suppose they were produced by the direct action either of the Inquisition or of the civil government of the country, compressing, as if with a physical power, the whole circle of society. This would have been impossible. No nation would have submitted to it; much less so high-spirited and chivalrous a nation as the Spanish in the reign of Charles the Fifth and in the greater part of that of Philip the Second. This dark work was done earlier. Its foundations were laid deep and sure in the old Castilian character. It was the result of the excess and misdirection of that very Christian zeal which fought so fervently and gloriously against the intrusion of Mohammedanism into Europe, and of that military loyalty which sustained the Spanish princes so faithfully through the whole of that terrible contest;—both of them high and ennobling principles, which in Spain were more wrought into the popular character than they ever were in any other country.

Spanish submission to an unworthy despotism, and Spanish bigotry, were, therefore, not the results of the Inquisition and the modern appliances of a corrupting monarchy; but the Inquisition and the despotism were rather the results of a misdirection of the old religious faith and loyalty. The civilization that recognized such elements presented, no doubt, much that was brilliant, picturesque, and ennobling; but it was not without its darker side; for it failed to excite and cherish many of the most elevating qualities of our common nature,—those qualities which are produced in domestic life, and result in the cultivation of the arts of peace.

As we proceed, therefore, we shall find, in the full development of the Spanish character and literature, seeming contradictions, which can be reconciled only by looking back to the foundations on which they both rest. We shall find the Inquisition at the height of its power, and a free and immoral drama at the height of its popularity,—Philip the Second and his two immediate successors governing the country with the severest and most jealous despotism, while Quevedo was writing his witty and dangerous satires, and Cervantes his genial and wise Don Quixote. But the more carefully we consider such a state of things, the more we shall see that these are moral contradictions which draw after them grave moral mischiefs. The Spanish nation, and the men of genius who illustrated its best days, might be light-hearted because they did not perceive the limits within which they were confined, or did not, for a time, feel the restraints that were imposed upon them. What they gave up might be given up with cheerful hearts, and not with a sense of discouragement and degradation; it might be done in the spirit of loyalty and with the fervor of religious zeal; but it is not at all the less true that the hard limits were there, and that great sacrifices of the best elements of the national character must follow.

Of this time gave abundant proof. Only a little more than a century elapsed before the government that had threatened the world with a universal empire was hardly able to repel invasion from abroad, or maintain the allegiance of its own subjects at home. Life—the vigorous, poetical life which had been kindled through the country in its ages of trial and adversity—was evidently passing out of the whole Spanish character. As a people, they sunk away from being a first-rate power in Europe, till they became one of altogether inferior importance and consideration; and then, drawing back haughtily behind their mountains, rejected all equal intercourse with the rest of the world, in a spirit almost as exclusive and intolerant as that in which they had formerly refused intercourse with their Arab conquerors. The crude and gross wealth poured in from their American possessions sustained, indeed, for yet another century the forms of a miserable political existence in their government; but the earnest faith, the loyalty, the dignity of the Spanish people were gone; and little remained in their place, but a weak subserviency to the unworthy masters of the state, and a low, timid bigotry in whatever related to religion. The old enthusiasm, rarely directed by wisdom from the first, and often misdirected afterwards, faded away; and the poetry of the country, which had always depended more on the state of the popular feeling than any other poetry of modern times, faded and failed with it.


CHAPTER II.

Low State of Letters about the Year 1500. — Influence of Italy. — Conquests of Charles the Fifth. — Boscan. — Navagiero. — Italian Forms introduced into Spanish Poetry. — Garcilasso de la Vega. — His Life, Works, and Permanent Influence.

There was, no doubt, a great decay of letters and good taste in Spain during the latter part of the troubled reign of John the Second and the whole of the still more disturbed period when his successor, Henry the Fourth, sat upon the throne of Castile. The ProvenÇal school had passed away, and its imitations in Castilian had not been successful. The earlier Italian influences, less fertile in good results than might have been anticipated, were almost forgotten. The fashion of the court, therefore, in the absence of better or more powerful impulses, ruled over every thing, and a monotonous poetry, full of conceits and artifices, was all that its own artificial character could produce.

Nor was there much improvement in the time of Ferdinand and Isabella. The introduction of the art of printing and the revival of a regard for classical antiquity were, indeed, foundations for a national culture such as had not before been laid; while, at the same time, the establishment of the University of AlcalÁ, by Cardinal Ximenes, and the revival of that of Salamanca, with the labors of such scholars as Peter Martyr, Lucio Marineo, Antonio de Lebrija, and Arias Barbosa, could hardly fail to exercise a favorable influence on the intellectual cultivation, if not on the poetical taste, of the country. Occasionally, as we have seen, proofs of the old energy appeared in such works as the “Celestina” and the “Coplas” of Manrique. The old ballads, too, and the other forms of the early popular poetry, no doubt, maintained their place in the hearts of the common people. But it is not to be concealed, that, among the cultivated classes,—as the Cancioneros and nearly every thing else that came from the press in the time of Ferdinand and Isabella sufficiently prove,—taste was at a very low ebb.

The first impulse to a better state of things came from Italy. In some respects this was unhappy; but there can be little doubt that it was inevitable. The intercourse between Italy and Spain, shortly before the accession of Charles the Fifth, had been much increased, chiefly by the conquest of Naples, but partly by other causes. Regular interchanges of ambassadors took place between the See of Rome and the court of Ferdinand and Isabella, and one of them was a son of the poetical Marquis of Santillana, and another the father of Garcilasso de la Vega. The universities of Italy continued to receive large numbers of Spanish students, who still regarded the means of a generous education at home as inadequate to their wants; and Spanish poets, among whom were Juan de la Enzina and Torres Naharro, resorted there freely, and lived with consideration at Rome and Naples. In the latter city, the old Spanish family of DÁvalos—one of whom was the husband of that Vittoria Colonna whose poetry ranks with the Italian classics—were among the chief patrons of letters during their time, and kept alive an intellectual union between the two countries, by which they were equally claimed and on which they reflected equal honor.[752]

But besides these individual instances of connection between Spain and Italy, the gravest events were now drawing together the greater interests of the mass of the people in both countries, and fastening their thoughts intently upon each other. Naples, after the treaty of 1503 and the brilliant successes of Gonzalvo de CÓrdova, was delivered over to Spain, bound hand and foot, and was governed, above a century, by a succession of Spanish viceroys, each accompanied by a train of Spanish officers and dependants, among whom, not unfrequently, we find men of letters and poets, like the Argensolas and Quevedo. When Charles the Fifth ascended the throne, in 1516, it was apparent that he would at once make an effort to extend his political and military power throughout Italy. The tempting plains of Lombardy became, therefore, the theatre of the first great European contest entered into by Spain,—a grand arena, in which, as it proved, much of the fate of Europe, as well as of Italy, was to be decided by two young and passionate monarchs, burning with personal rivalship and the love of glory. In this way, from 1522, when the first war broke out between Francis the First and Charles the Fifth, to the disastrous battle of Pavia, in 1525, we may consider the whole disposable force of Spain to have been transferred to Italy, and subjected, in a remarkable degree, to the influences of Italian culture and civilization.Nor did the connection between the two countries stop here. In 1527, Rome itself was, for a moment, added to the conquests of the Spanish crown, and the Pope became the prisoner of the Emperor, as the king of France had been before. In 1530, Charles appeared again in Italy, surrounded by a splendid Spanish court, and at the head of a military power that left no doubt of his mastery. He at once crushed the liberties of Florence and restored the aristocracy of the Medici. He made peace with the outraged Pope. By his wisdom and moderation, he confirmed his friendly relations with the other states of Italy; and, as the seal of all his successes, he caused himself, in the presence of whatever was most august in both countries, to be solemnly crowned King of Lombardy and Emperor of the Romans, by the same Pope whom, three years before, he had counted among his captives.[753] Such a state of things necessarily implied a most intimate connection between Spain and Italy; and this connection was maintained down to the abdication of the Emperor, in 1555, and, indeed, long afterwards.[754]

On the other hand, it should be remembered that Italy was now in a condition to act with all the power of a superior civilization and refinement on this large body of Spaniards, many of them the leading spirits of the Empire, who, by successive wars and negotiations, were thus kept for half a century travelling in Italy and living at Genoa, Milan, and Venice, Florence, Rome, and Naples. The age of Lorenzo de’ Medici was already past, leaving behind it the memorials of Poliziano, Boiardo, Pulci, and Leonardo da Vinci. The age of Leo the Tenth and Clement the Seventh was contemporary, and had brought with it the yet more prevalent influences of Michel Angelo, Raffaelle, and Titian, of Machiavelli, of Berni, of Ariosto, of Bembo, and of Sannazaro; the last of whom, it is not unworthy of notice, was himself a descendant of one of those very Spanish families whom the political interests of the two countries had originally carried to Naples. It was, therefore, when Rome and Naples, Florence and the North of Italy, were in the maturity of their glory, as seats of the arts and letters, that no small part of what was most noble and cultivated in Spain was led across the Alps and awakened to a perception of such forms and creations of genius and taste as had not been attempted beyond the Pyrenees, and such as could not fail to produce their full effect on minds excited, like those of the whole Spanish people, by the glorious results of their long struggle against the Moors, and their present magnificent successes both in America and Europe.

Visible traces of the influence of Italian literature might, therefore, from general causes, soon be looked for in the Spanish; but an accident brings them to our notice somewhat earlier, perhaps, than might have been anticipated. Juan Boscan, a patrician of Barcelona, was, as he himself tells us, devoted to poetry from his youth. The city to which he belonged had early been distinguished for the number of ProvenÇal and Catalonian Troubadours who had flourished in it. But Boscan preferred to write in the Castilian; and his defection from his native dialect became, in some sort, the seal of its fate. His earlier efforts, a few of which remain to us, are in the style of the preceding century; but at last, when, from the most distinct accounts we can obtain, he was about twenty-five years old, and when, we are assured, he had been received at court, had served in the army, and had visited foreign countries, he was induced, by an accident, to attempt the proper Italian measures, as they were then practised.[755]

He became, at that period, acquainted with Andrea Navagiero, who was sent, in 1524, as ambassador from Venice to Charles the Fifth, and returned home in 1528, carrying with him a dry, but valuable, itinerary, which was afterwards published as an account of his travels. He was a man of learning and a poet, an orator and a statesman of no mean name.[756] While in Spain, he spent, during the year 1526, six months at Granada.[757] “Being with Navagiero there one day,” says Boscan, “and discoursing with him about matters of wit and letters, and especially about the different forms they take in different languages, he asked me why I did not make an experiment in Castilian of sonnets and the other forms of verse used by good Italian authors; and not only spoke to me of it thus slightly, but urged me much to do it. A few days afterwards, I set off for my own home; and whether it were the length and solitariness of the way I know not, but, turning over different things in my mind, I came often back upon what Navagiero had said to me. And thus I began to try this kind of verse. At first, I found it somewhat difficult; for it is of a very artful construction, and in many particulars different from ours. But afterwards it seemed to me,—perhaps from the love we naturally bear to what is our own,—that I began to succeed very well, and so I went on, little by little, with increasing zeal.”[758]

This account is interesting and important. It is rare that any one individual has been able to exercise such an influence on the literature of a foreign nation as was exercised by Navagiero. It is still more rare,—indeed, perhaps, wholly unknown, in any case where it may have occurred,—that the precise mode in which it was exercised can be so exactly explained. Boscan tells us not only what he did, but what led him to do it, and how he began his work, which we find him, from this moment, following up, till he devoted himself to it entirely, and wrote in all the favorite Italian measures and forms with boldness and success. He was resisted, but he tells us Garcilasso sustained him; and from this small beginning in a slight conversation with Navagiero at Granada, a new school was introduced into Spanish poetry, which has prevailed in it ever since, and materially influenced its character and destinies.

Boscan felt his success. This we can see from his own account of it. But he made little effort to press his example on others; for he was a man of fortune and consideration, who led a happy life with his family at Barcelona, and hardly cared for popular reputation or influence. Occasionally, we are told, he was seen at court; and at one period he had some charge of the education of that Duke of Alva whose name, in the next reign, became so formidable. But in general he preferred a life of retirement to any of the prizes offered to ambition.

Letters were his amusement. “In what I have written,” he says, “the mere writing was never my object; but rather to solace such faculties as I have, and to go less heavily through certain heavy passages of my life.”[759] The range of his studies, however, was wider than this remark might seem to imply, and wider than was common in Spain at the beginning of the sixteenth century, even among scholars. He translated a tragedy of Euripides, which was licensed to be published, but which never appeared in print, and is, no doubt, lost.[760] On the basis of the “Hero and Leander” of MusÆus, and following the example of Bernardo Tasso, he wrote, in the versi sciolti, or blank verse, of the Italians, a tale nearly three thousand lines long, which may still be read with pleasure, for the gentle and sweet passages it contains.[761] And in general, throughout his poetry, he shows that he was familiar with the Greek and Latin classics, and imbued, to a considerable degree, with the spirit of antiquity.

His longest work was a translation of the Italian “Courtier” of Balthazar Castiglione,—the best book on good-breeding, as Dr. Johnson thought two centuries afterwards, that was ever written.[762] Boscan, however, frankly says, that he did not like the business of translating, which he regarded as “a low vanity, beseeming men of little knowledge”; but Garcilasso de la Vega had sent him a copy of the original soon after it was published, and he made this Spanish version of it, he tells us, “at his friend’s earnest request.”[763] Either or both of them may have known its author in the same way Boscan knew Navagiero; for Castiglione was sent as ambassador of Clement the Seventh to Spain in 1525, and remained there till his death, which happened at Toledo, in 1529.

But however this may have been, the Italian original of the Courtier was prepared for the press in Spain and first printed in 1528;[764] soon after which Boscan must have made his translation, though it did not appear till 1540. As a version, it does not profess to be very strict, for Boscan says he thought an exact fidelity to be unworthy of him;[765] but, as a Spanish composition, it is uncommonly flowing and easy. Garcilasso declares that it reads like an original work;[766] and Morales, the historian, says, “The Courtier discourseth not better in Italy, where he was born, than here in Spain, where Boscan hath exhibited him so admirably well.”[767] Perhaps nothing in Castilian prose, of an earlier date, is written in so classical and finished a style as this translation by Boscan.

With such occupations Boscan filled up his unostentatious life. He published nothing, or very little, and we have no single date to record concerning him. But, from the few facts that can be collected, it seems probable he was born before 1500, and we know that he died as early as 1543; for in that year his works were published at Barcelona, by his widow, under a license from the Emperor Charles the Fifth, with a Preface, in which she says her husband had partly prepared them for the press, because he feared they would be printed from some of the many imperfect copies that had gone into circulation without his consent.

They are divided into four books. The first consists of a small number of poems in what are called coplas EspaÑolas, or what he himself elsewhere terms “the Castilian manner.” These are his early efforts, made before his acquaintance with Navagiero. They are villancicos, canciones, and coplas, in the short national verses, and seem as if they might have come out of the old Cancioneros, in which, indeed, two of them are to be found.[768] Their merit is not great; but, amidst their ingenious conceits, there is sometimes a happiness and grace of expression rarely granted to the poets of the same school in that or the preceding century.

The second and third books, constituting by far the larger part of the volume, are composed entirely of poems in the Italian measure. They consist of ninety-three sonnets and nine canzones; the long poem on Hero and Leander, in blank verse, already mentioned; an elegy and two didactic epistles, in terza rima; and a half-narrative, half-allegorical poem, in one hundred and thirty-five octave stanzas. It is not necessary to go beyond such a mere enumeration of the contents of these two books to learn, that, at least so far as their forms are concerned, they have nothing to do with the elder national Castilian poetry. The sonnets and the canzones especially are obvious imitations of Petrarch, as we can see in the case of the two beginning, “Gentil SeÑora mia,” and “Claros y frescos rios,” which are largely indebted to two of the most beautiful and best-known canzones of the lover of Laura.[769] In most of these poems, however, and amidst a good deal of hardness of manner, a Spanish tone and spirit are perceptible, which rescue them, in a great degree, from the imputation of being copies. Boscan’s colors are here laid on with a bolder hand than those of his Italian master, and there is an absence of that delicate and exact finish, both in language and style, which, however charming in his models, would hardly be possible in the most skilful Spanish imitations.

The elegy, which is merely entitled “Capitolo,” has more conceits and learning in it than become its subject, and approaches nearer to Boscan’s first manner than any of his later poems. It is addressed to his lady-love; but, notwithstanding its defects, it contains long passages of tenderness and simple beauty that will always be read with pleasure. Of the two epistles, the first is poor and affected; but that addressed to the old statesman, poet, and soldier, Diego de Mendoza, is much in the tone and manner of Horace,—acute, genial, and full of philosophy.

But the most agreeable and original of Boscan’s works is the last of them all,—“The Allegory.” It opens with a gorgeous description of the Court of Love, and with the truly Spanish idea of a corresponding and opposing Court of Jealousy; but almost the whole of the rest consists of an account of the embassy of two messengers from the first of these courts to two ladies of Barcelona who had refused to come beneath its empire, and to persuade whom to submission a speech of the ambassador is given that fills nearly half the poem, and ends it somewhat abruptly. No doubt, the whole was intended as a compliment to the two ladies, in which the story is of little consequence. But it is a pleasing and airy trifle, in which its author has sometimes happily hit the tone of Ariosto, and at other times reminds us of the Island of Love in the “Lusiad,” though Boscan preceded Camoens by many years. Occasionally, too, he has a moral delicacy, more refined than Petrarch’s, though perhaps suggested by that of the great Italian; such a delicacy as he shows in the following stanza, and two or three preceding and following it, in which the ambassador of Love exhorts the two ladies of Barcelona to submit to his authority, by urging on them the happiness of a union founded in a genuine sympathy of tastes and feeling:—

For is it not a happiness most pure,

That two fond hearts can thus together melt,

And each the other’s sorrows all endure,

While still their joys as those of one are felt;

Even causeless anger of support secure,

And pardons causeless in one spirit dealt;

That so their loves, though fickle all and strange,

May, in their thousand changes, still together change?[770]

Boscan might, probably, have done more for the literature of his country than he did. His poetical talents were not, indeed, of the highest order; but he perceived the degradation into which Spanish poetry had fallen, and was persuaded that the way to raise it again was to give it an ideal character and classical forms such as it had not yet known. But to accomplish this, he adopted a standard not formed on the intimations of the national genius. He took for his models foreign masters, who, though more advanced than any he could find at home, were yet entitled to supremacy in no literature but their own, and could never constitute a safe foundation whereon to build a great and permanent school of Spanish poetry. Entire success, therefore, was impossible to him. He was able to establish in Spain the Italian eleven-syllable and iambic versification; the sonnet and canzone, as settled by Petrarch; Dante’s terza rima;[771] and Boccaccio’s and Ariosto’s flowing octaves;—all in better taste than any thing among the poets of his time and country, and all of them important additions to the forms of verse before known in Spain. But he could go no farther. The original and essential spirit of Italian poetry could no more be transplanted to Castile or Catalonia than to Germany or England.

But whatever were his purposes and plans for the advancement of the literature of his country, Boscan lived long enough to see them fulfilled, so far as they were ever destined to be; for he had a friend who cooperated with him in all of them from the first, and who, with a happier genius, easily surpassed him, and carried the best forms of Italian verse to a height they never afterwards reached in Spanish poetry. This friend was Garcilasso de la Vega, who yet died so young, that Boscan survived him several years.

Garcilasso was descended from an ancient family in the North of Spain, who traced back their ancestry to the age of the Cid, and who, from century to century, had been distinguished by holding some of the highest places in the government of Castile.[772] A poetical tradition says, that one of his forefathers obtained the name of “Vega” or Plain, and the motto of “Ave Maria” for his family arms, from the circumstance, that, during one of the sieges of Granada, he slew outright, before the face of both armies, a Moorish champion who had publicly insulted the Christian faith by dragging a banner inscribed with “Ave Maria” at his horse’s heels,—a tradition faithfully preserved in a fine old ballad, and forming the catastrophe of one of Lope de Vega’s plays.[773] But whether all this be true or not, Garcilasso bore a name honored on both sides of his house; for his mother was daughter and sole heir of Fernan Perez de Guzman, and his father was the ambassador of the Catholic sovereigns at Rome in relation to the troublesome affairs of Naples.

He was born at Toledo in 1503, and was educated there till he reached an age suitable for bearing arms. Then, as became his rank and pretensions, he was sent to court, and received his place in the armies that were already gaining so much glory for their country. When he was about twenty-seven years old, he married an Aragonese lady attached to the court of Eleanor, widow of the king of Portugal, who, in 1530, was in Spain on her way to become queen of France. From this time he seems to have been constantly in the wars which the Emperor was carrying on in all directions, and to have been much trusted by him, though his elder brother, Pedro, had been implicated in the troubles of the Comunidades, and compelled to escape from Spain as an outlawed rebel.[774]

In 1532 Garcilasso was at Vienna, and among those who distinguished themselves in the defeat of the Turkish expedition of Soliman, which that great sultan pushed to the very gates of the city. But while he was there, he was himself involved in trouble. He undertook to promote the marriage of one of his nephews with a lady of the Imperial household; and, urging his project against the pleasure of the Empress, not only failed, but was cast into prison on an island in the Danube, where he wrote the melancholy lines on his own desolation and on the beauty of the adjacent country, which pass as the third Cancion in his works.[775] The progress of events, however, not only soon brought his release, but raised him into higher favor than ever. In 1535 he was at the siege of Tunis,—when Charles the Fifth attempted to crush the Barbary powers by a single blow,—and there received two severe wounds, one on his head and the other in his arm.[776] His return to Spain is recorded in an elegy, written at the foot of Mount Ætna, and indicating that he came back by the way of Naples; a city which, from another poem addressed to Boscan, he seems to have visited once before.[777] At any rate, we know, though his present visit to Italy was a short one, that he was there, at some period, long enough to win the personal esteem and regard of Bembo and Tansillo.[778]

The very next year, however,—the last of his short life,—we find him again at the court of the Emperor, and engaged in the disastrous expedition into Provence. The army had already passed through the difficulties and dangers of the siege of Marseilles, and was fortunate enough not to be pursued by the cautious Constable de Montmorenci. But as they approached the town of Frejus, a small castle, on a commanding hill, defended by only fifty of the neighbouring peasantry, offered a serious annoyance to their farther passage. The Emperor ordered the slight obstacle to be swept from his path. Garcilasso, who had now a considerable command, advanced gladly to execute the Imperial requisition. He knew that the eyes of the Emperor, and indeed those of the whole army, were upon him; and, in the true spirit of knighthood, he was the first to mount the wall. But a well-directed stone precipitated him into the ditch beneath. The wound, which was on his head, proved mortal, and he died a few days afterwards, at Nice, in 1536, only thirty-three years old. His fate is recorded by Mariana, Sandoval, and the other national historians, among the important events of the time; and the Emperor, we are told, basely avenged it by putting to death all the survivors of the fifty peasantry, who had done no more than bravely defend their homes against a foreign invader.[779]

In a life so short and so crowded with cares and adventures we should hardly expect to find leisure for poetry. But, as he describes himself in his third Eclogue, Garcilasso seems to have hurried through the world,

Now seizing on the sword, and now the pen;[780]

so that he still left a small collection of poems, which the faithful widow of Boscan, finding among her husband’s papers, published at the end of his works as a Fourth Book, and has thus rescued what would otherwise probably have been lost. Their character is singular, considering the circumstances under which they were written; for, instead of betraying any of the spirit that governed the main course of their author’s adventurous life and brought him to an early grave, they are remarkable for their gentleness and melancholy, and their best portions are in a pastoral tone breathing the very sweetness of the fabulous ages of Arcadia. When he wrote most of them we have no means of determining with exactness. But with the exception of three or four trifles that appear mingled with other similar trifles in the first book of Boscan’s works, all Garcilasso’s poems are in the Italian forms, which we know were first adopted, with his coÖperation, in 1526; so that we must, at any rate, place them in the ten years between this date and that of his death.

They consist of thirty-seven sonnets, five canzones, two elegies, an epistle in versi sciolti less grave than the rest of his poetry, and three pastorals; the pastorals constituting more than half of all the verse he wrote. The air of the whole is Italian. He has imitated Petrarch, Bembo, Ariosto, and especially Sannazaro, to whom he has once or twice been indebted for pages together; turning, however, from time to time, reverently to the greater ancient masters, Virgil and Theocritus, and acknowledging their supremacy. Where the Italian tone most prevails, something of the poetical spirit which should sustain him is lost. But, after all, Garcilasso was a poet of no common genius. We see it sometimes even in the strictest of his imitations; but it reveals itself much more distinctly when, as in the first Eclogue, he uses as servants the masters to whom he elsewhere devotes himself, and writes only like a Spaniard, warm with the peculiar national spirit of his country.

This first Eclogue is, in truth, the best of his works. It is beautiful in the simplicity of its structure, and beautiful in its poetical execution. It was probably written at Naples. It opens with an address to the father of the famous Duke of Alva, then viceroy of that principality, calling upon him, in the most artless manner, to listen to the complaints of two shepherds, the first mourning the faithlessness of a mistress, and the other the death of one. Salicio, who represents Garcilasso, then begins; and when he has entirely finished, but not before, he is answered by Nemoroso, whose name indicates that he represents Boscan.[781] The whole closes naturally and gracefully with a description of the approach of evening. It is, therefore, not properly a dialogue, any more than the eighth Eclogue of Virgil. On the contrary, except the lines at the opening and the conclusion, it might be regarded as two separate elegies, in which the pastoral tone is uncommonly well preserved, and each of which, by its divisions and arrangements, is made to resemble an Italian canzone. An air of freshness and even originality is thus given to the structure of the entire pastoral, while, at the same time, the melancholy, but glowing, passion that breathes through it renders it in a high degree poetical.In the first part, where Salicio laments the unfaithfulness of his mistress, there is a happy preservation of the air of pastoral life by a constant, and yet not forced, allusion to natural scenery and rural objects, as in the following passage:—

For thee, the silence of the shady wood

I loved; for thee, the secret mountain-top,

Which dwells apart, glad in its solitude;

For thee, I loved the verdant grass, the wind

That breathed so fresh and cool, the lily pale,

The blushing rose, and all the fragrant treasures

Of the opening spring! But, O! how far

From all I thought, from all I trusted, amidst

Loving scenes like these, was that dark falsehood

That lay hid within thy treacherous heart![782]

The other division of the Eclogue contains passages that remind us both of Milton’s “Lycidas” and of the ancients whom Milton imitated. Thus, in the following lines, where the opening idea is taken from a well-known passage in the Odyssey, the conclusion is not unworthy of the thought that precedes it, and adds a new charm to what so many poets since Homer had rendered familiar:[783]

And as the nightingale that hides herself

Amidst the sheltering leaves, and sorrows there,

Because the unfeeling hind, with cruel craft,

Hath stole away her unfledged offspring dear,—

Stole them from out the nest that was their home,

While she was absent from the bough she loved,—

And pours her grief in sweetest melody,

Filling the air with passionate complaint,

Amidst the silence of the gloomy night,

Calling on heaven and heaven’s pure stars

To witness her great wrong;—so I am yielded up

To misery, and mourn, in vain, that Death

Should thrust his hand into my inmost heart,

And bear away, as from its nest and home,

The love I cherished with unceasing care![784]

Garcilasso’s versification is uncommonly sweet, and well suited to the tender and sad character of his poetry. In his second Eclogue, he has tried the singular experiment of making the rhyme often, not between the ends of two lines, but between the end of one and the middle of the next. It was not, however, successful. Cervantes has imitated it, and so have one or two others; but wherever the rhyme is quite obvious, the effect is not good, and where it is little noticed, the lines take rather the character of blank verse.[785] In general, however, Garcilasso’s harmony can hardly be improved; at least, not without injuring his versification in particulars yet more important.His poems had a great success from the moment they appeared. There was a grace and an elegance about them of which Boscan may in part have set the example, but which Boscan was never able to reach. The Spaniards who came back from Rome and Naples were delighted to find at home what had so much charmed them in their campaigns and wanderings in Italy; and Garcilasso’s poems were proudly reprinted wherever the Spanish arms and influence extended. They received, too, other honors. In less than half a century from their first appearance, Francisco Sanchez, commonly called “El Brocense,” the most learned Spaniard of his age, added a commentary to them, which has still some value. A little later, Herrera, the lyric poet, published them, with a series of notes yet more ample, in which, amidst much that is useless, interesting details may be found, for which he was indebted to Puerto Carrero, the poet’s son-in-law. And early in the next century, Tamayo de Vargas again encumbered the whole with a new mass of unprofitable learning.[786] Such distinctions, however, constituted, even when they were fresh, little of Garcilasso’s real glory, which rested on the safer foundations of a genuine and general regard. His poetry, from the first, sunk deep into the hearts of his countrymen. His sonnets were heard everywhere; his eclogues were acted like popular dramas.[787] The greatest geniuses of his nation express for him a reverence they show to none of their predecessors. Lope de Vega imitates him in every possible way; Cervantes praises him more than he does any other poet, and cites him oftener.[788] And thus Garcilasso has come down to us enjoying a general national admiration, such as is given to hardly any other Spanish poet, and to none that lived before his time.

That it would have been better for himself and for the literature of his country, if he had drawn more from the elements of the earlier national character, and imitated less the great Italian masters he justly admired, can hardly be doubted. It would have given a freer and more generous movement to his poetical genius, and opened to him a range of subjects and forms of composition, from which, by rejecting the example of the national poets that had gone before him, he excluded himself.[789] But he deliberately decided otherwise; and his great success, added to that of Boscan, introduced into Spain an Italian school of poetry which has been an important part of Spanish literature ever since.[790]


CHAPTER III.

Imitations of the Italian Manner. — AcuÑa. — Cetina. — Opposition to it. — Castillejo. — Antonio de Villegas. — Silvestre. — Discussions concerning it. — Argote de Molina. — Montalvo. — Lope de Vega. — Its Final Success.

The example set by Boscan and Garcilasso was so well suited to the spirit and demands of the age, that it became as much a fashion, at the court of Charles the Fifth, to write in the Italian manner as it did to travel in Italy or make a military campaign there. Among those who earliest adopted the forms of Italian verse was Fernando de AcuÑa, a gentleman belonging to a noble Portuguese family, but born in Madrid and writing only in Spanish. He served in Flanders, in Italy, and in Africa; and after the conquest of Tunis, in 1535, a mutiny having occurred in its garrison, he was sent there by the Emperor, with unlimited authority to punish or to pardon those implicated in it; a difficult mission, whose duties he fulfilled with great discretion and with an honorable generosity.

In other respects, too, AcuÑa was treated with peculiar confidence. Charles the Fifth—as we learn from the familiar correspondence of Van Male, a poor scholar and gentleman who slept often in his bed-chamber and nursed him in his infirmities—amused the fretfulness of a premature old age, under which his proud spirit constantly chafed, by making a translation into Spanish prose of a French poem then much in vogue and favor,—the “Chevalier DÉlibÉrÉ.” Its author, Olivier de la Marche, was long attached to the service of Mary of Burgundy, the Emperor’s grandmother, and had made, in the Chevalier DÉlibÉrÉ, an allegorical show of the events in the life of her father, so flattering as to render his picture an object of general admiration at the time when Charles was educated at her brilliant court.[791] But the great Emperor, though his prose version of the pleasant reading of his youth is said to have been prepared with more skill and success than might have been anticipated from his imperfect training for such a task, felt that he was unable to give it the easy dress he desired it should wear in Castilian verse. This labor, therefore, in the plenitude of his authority, he assigned to AcuÑa; confiding to him the manuscript he had prepared in great secrecy, and requiring him to cast it into a more appropriate and agreeable form.

AcuÑa was well fitted for the delicate duty assigned to him. As a courtier, skilled in the humors of the palace, he omitted several passages that would be little interesting to his master, and inserted others that would be more so,—particularly several relating to Ferdinand and Isabella, and to Philip, Charles’s father. As a poet, he turned the Emperor’s prose into the old double quintillas with a purity and richness of idiom rare in any period of Spanish literature, and some portion of the merit of which has, perhaps justly, been attributed by Van Male to the Imperial version out of which it was constructed. The poem thus prepared—making three hundred and seventy-nine stanzas of ten short lines each—was then secretly given by Charles, as if it were a present worthy of a munificent sovereign, to Van Male, the poor servant, who records the facts relating to it, and then, forbidding all notice of himself in the Preface, the Emperor ordered an edition of it, so large, that the unhappy scholar trembled at the pecuniary risks he was to run on account of the bounty he had received. The “Cavallero Determinado,” as it was called in the version of AcuÑa, was, however, more successful than Van Male supposed it would be; and, partly from the interest the master of so many kingdoms must have felt in a work in which his secret share was considerable; partly from the ingenuity of the allegory, which is due in general to La Marche; and partly from the fluency and grace of the versification, which must be wholly AcuÑa’s, it became very popular; seven editions of it being called for in the course of half a century.[792]But notwithstanding the success of the Cavallero Determinado, AcuÑa wrote hardly any thing else in the old national style and manner. His shorter poems, filling a small volume, are, with one or two inconsiderable exceptions, in the Italian measures, and sometimes are direct imitations of Boscan and Garcilasso. They are almost all written in good taste, and with a classical finish, especially “The Contest of Ajax with Ulysses,” where, in tolerable blank verse, AcuÑa has imitated the severe simplicity of Homer. He was known, too, in Italy, and his translation of a part of Boiardo’s “Orlando Innamorato” was praised there; but his miscellanies and his sonnets found more favor at home. He died at Granada, it is said, in 1580, while prosecuting a claim he had inherited to a Spanish title; but his poems were not printed till 1591, when, like those of Boscan, with which they may be fairly ranked, they were published by the pious care of his widow.[793]

Less fortunate in this respect than AcuÑa was Gutierre de Cetina, another Spaniard of the same period and school, since no attempt has ever been made to collect his poems. The few that remain to us, however,—his madrigals, sonnets, and other short pieces,—have much merit. Sometimes they take an Anacreontic tone; but the better specimens are rather marked by sweetness, like the following madrigal:—

Eyes, that have still serenely shone,

And still for gentleness been praised,

Why thus in anger are ye raised,

When turned on me, and me alone?

The more ye tenderly and gently beam,

The more to all ye winning seem;—

But yet,—O, yet,—dear eyes, serene and sweet,

Turn on me still, whate’er the glance I meet![794]

Like many others of his countrymen, Cetina was a soldier, and fought bravely in Italy. Afterwards he visited Mexico, where he had a brother in an important public office; but he died, at last, in Seville, his native city, about the year 1560. He was an imitator of Garcilasso, even more than of the Italians who were Garcilasso’s models.[795]

But an Italian school was not introduced into Spanish literature without a contest. We cannot, perhaps, tell who first broke ground against it, as an unprofitable and unjustifiable innovation; but ChristÓval de Castillejo, a gentleman of Ciudad Rodrigo, was the most efficient of its early opponents. He was attached, from the age of fifteen, to the person of Ferdinand, the younger brother of Charles the Fifth, and subsequently Emperor of Germany; passing a part of his life in Austria, as secretary to that prince, and ending it, in extreme old age, as a Carthusian monk, at the convent of Val de Iglesias, near Toledo. But wherever he lived, Castillejo wrote verses, and showed no favor to the new school. He attacked it in many ways, but chiefly by imitating the old masters in their villancicos, canciones, glosas, and the other forms and measures they adopted, though with a purer and better taste than they had generally shown.

Some of his poetry was written as early as 1540 and 1541; and, except the religious portion, which fills the latter part of the third and last of the three books into which his works are divided, it has generally a fresh and youthful air. Facility and gayety are, perhaps, its most prominent, though certainly not its highest, characteristics. Some of his love-verses are remarkable for their tenderness and grace, especially those addressed to Anna; but he shows the force and bent of his talent rather when he deals with practical life, as he does in his bitter discussion concerning the court; in a dialogue between his pen and himself; in a poem on Woman; and in a letter to a friend, asking counsel about a love affair;—all of which are full of living sketches of the national manners and feelings. Next to these, perhaps, some of his more fanciful pieces, such as his “Transformation of a Drunkard into a Mosquito,” are the most characteristic of his light-hearted nature.

But on every occasion where he finds an opening, or can make one, he attacks the imitators of the Italians, whom he contemptuously calls “Petrarquistas.” Once, he devotes to them a regular satire, which he addresses “to those who give up the Castilian measures and follow the Italian,” calling out Boscan and Garcilasso by name, and summoning Juan de Mena, Sanchez de Badajoz, Naharro, and others of the elder poets, to make merry with him, at the expense of the innovators. Almost everywhere he shows a genial temperament, and sometimes indulges himself in a freer tone than was thought beseeming at the time when he lived; in consequence of which, his poetry, though much circulated in manuscript, was forbidden by the Inquisition; so that all we now possess of it is a selection, which, by a sort of special favor, was exempted from censure, and permitted to be printed in 1573.[796]

Another of those who maintained the doctrines and wrote in the measures of the old school was Antonio de Villegas, whose poems, though written before 1551, were not printed till 1565. The PrÓlogo, addressed to the book, with instructions how it should bear itself in the world, reminds us sometimes of “The Soul’s Errand,” but is more easy and less poetical. The best poems of the volume are, indeed, of this sort, light and gay; rather running into pretty quaintnesses than giving token of deep feeling. The longer among them, like those on Pyramus and Thisbe, and on the quarrel between Ulysses and Ajax, are the least interesting. But the shorter pieces are many of them very agreeable. One to the Duke of Sesa, the descendant of Gonzalvo of CÓrdova, and addressed to him as he was going to Italy, where Cervantes served under his leading, is fortunate, from its allusion to his great ancestor. It begins thus:—

Go forth to Italy, great chief;

It is thy fated land,

Sown thick with deeds of brave emprise

By that ancestral hand

Which cast its seeds so widely there,

That, as thou marchest on,

The very soil will start afresh,

Teeming with glories won;

While round thy form, like myriad suns,

Shall shine a halo’s flame,

Enkindled from the dazzling light

Of thy great father’s fame.

More characteristic than this, however, because less heroic and grave, are eighteen dÉcimas, or ten-line poems, called “Comparaciones,” because each ends with a comparison; the whole being preceded by a longer composition in the same style, addressing them all to his lady-love. The following may serve as a specimen of their peculiar tone and measure:—

Lady! so used my soul is grown

To serve thee always in pure truth,

That, drawn to thee, and thee alone,

My joys come thronging; and my youth

No grief can jar, save when thou grievest its tone.

But though my faithful soul be thus in part

Untuned, when dissonance it feels in thee,

Still, still to thine turns back my trembling heart,

As jars the well-tuned string in sympathy

With that which trembles at the tuner’s art.[797]

Gregorio Silvestre, a Portuguese, who came in his childhood to Spain, and died there in 1570, was another of those who wrote according to the earlier modes of composition. He was a friend of Torres de Naharro, of Garci Sanchez de Badajoz, and of Heredia; and, for some time, imitated Castillejo in speaking lightly of Boscan and Garcilasso. But, as the Italian manner prevailed more and more, he yielded somewhat to the fashion; and, in his latter years, wrote sonnets, and ottava and terza rima, adding to their forms a careful finish not then enough valued in Spain.[798] All his poetry, notwithstanding the accident of his foreign birth, is written in pure and idiomatic Castilian; but the best of it is in the older style,—“the old rhymes,” as he called them,—in which, apparently, he felt more freedom than he did in the manner he subsequently adopted. His Glosses seem to have been most regarded by himself and his friends; and if the nature of the composition itself had been more elevated, they might still deserve the praise they at first received, for he shows great facility and ingenuity in their construction.[799]

His longer narrative poems—those on Daphne and Apollo, and on Pyramus and Thisbe, as well as one he called “The Residence of Love”—are not without merit, though they are among the less fortunate of his efforts. But his canciones are to be ranked with the very best in the language; full of the old true-hearted simplicity of feeling, and yet not without an artifice in their turns of expression, which, far from interfering with their point and effect, adds to both. Thus, one of them begins:—

Your locks are all of gold, my lady,

And of gold each priceless hair;

And the heart is all of steel, my lady,

That sees them without despair.

While a little farther on he gives to the same idea a quaint turn, or answer, such as he delighted to make:—

Not of gold would be your hair, dear lady,

No, not of gold so fair;

But the fine, rich gold itself, dear lady,

That gold would be your hair.[800]

Each is followed by a sort of gloss, or variation of the original air, which again is not without its appropriate merit.

Silvestre was much connected with the poets of his time; not only those of the old school, but those of the Italian, like Diego de Mendoza, Hernando de AcuÑa, George of Montemayor, and Luis Barahona de Soto. Their poems, in fact, are sometimes found mingled with his own, and their spirit, we see, had a controlling influence over his. But whether, in return, he produced much effect on them, or on his times, may be doubted. He seems to have passed his life quietly in Granada, of whose noble cathedral he was the principal musician, and where he was much valued as a member of society, for his wit and kindly nature. But when he died, at the age of fifty, his poetry was known only in manuscript; and after it was collected and published by his friend Pedro de Caceres, twelve years later, it produced little sensation. He belonged, in truth, to both schools, and was therefore thoroughly admired by neither.[801]

The discussion between the two, however, soon became a formal one. Argote de Molina naturally brought it into his Discourse on Spanish Poetry in 1575,[802] and Montalvo introduced it into his Pastoral, where it little belongs, but where, under assumed names, Cervantes, Ercilla, Castillejo, Silvestre, and Montalvo[803] himself, give their opinions in favor of the old school. This was in 1582. In 1599, Lope de Vega defended the same side in the Preface to his “San Isidro.”[804] But the question was then substantially decided. Five or six long epics, including the “Araucana,” had already been written in the Italian ottava rima; as many pastorals, in imitation of Sannazaro’s; and thousands of verses in the shape of sonnets, canzoni, and the other forms of Italian poetry, a large portion of which had found much favor. Even Lope de Vega, therefore, who is quite decided in his opinion, and wrote his poem of “San Isidro” in the old popular redondillas, fell in with the prevailing fashion, so that, perhaps, in the end, nobody did more than himself to confirm the Italian measures and manner. From this time, therefore, the success of the new school may be considered certain and settled; nor has it ever since been displaced or superseded, as an important division of Spanish literature.


CHAPTER IV.

Diego Hurtado de Mendoza. — His Family. — His Lazarillo de TÓrmes, and its Imitations. — His Public Employments and Private Studies. — His Retirement from Affairs. — His Poems and Miscellanies. — His History of the Rebellion of the Moors. — His Death and Character.

Among those who did most to decide the question in favor of the introduction and establishment of the Italian measures in Spanish literature was one whose rank and social position gave him great authority, and whose genius, cultivation, and adventures point alike to his connection with the period we have just gone over and with that on which we are now entering. This person was Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, a scholar and a soldier, a poet and a diplomatist, a statesman and an historian,—a man who rose to great consideration in whatever he undertook, and one who was not of a temper to be satisfied with moderate success, wherever he might choose to make an effort.[805]

He was born in Granada in 1503, and his ancestry was perhaps the most illustrious in Spain, if we except the descendants of those who had sat on the thrones of its different kingdoms. Lope de Vega, who turns aside in one of his plays to boast that it was so, adds, that, in his time, the Mendozas counted three-and-twenty generations of the highest nobility and public service.[806] But it is more important for our present purpose to notice that the three immediate ancestors of the distinguished statesman now before us might well have served as examples to form his young character; for he was the third in direct descent from the Marquis of Santillana, the poet and wit of the court of John the Second; his grandfather was the able ambassador of Ferdinand and Isabella, in their troublesome affairs with the See of Rome; and his father, after commanding with distinguished honor in the last great overthrow of the Moors, was made governor of the unquiet city of Granada not long after its surrender.

Diego, however, had five brothers older than himself; and therefore, notwithstanding the power of his family, he was originally destined for the Church, in order to give him more easily the position and income that should sustain his great name with becoming dignity. But his character could not be bent in that direction. He acquired, indeed, much knowledge suited to further his ecclesiastical advancement, both at home, where he learned to speak the Arabic with fluency, and at Salamanca, where he studied Latin, Greek, philosophy, and canon and civil law, with success. But it is evident that he indulged a decided preference for what was more intimately connected with political affairs and elegant literature; and if, as is commonly supposed, he wrote while at the University, or soon afterwards, his “Lazarillo de TÓrmes,” it is equally plain that he preferred such a literature as had no relation to theology or the Church.

The Lazarillo is a work of genius, unlike any thing that had preceded it. It is the autobiography of a boy—“little Lazarus”—born in a mill on the banks of the TÓrmes, near Salamanca, and sent out by his base and brutal mother as the leader of a blind beggar; the lowest place in the social condition, perhaps, that could then be found in Spain. But such as it is, Lazarillo makes the best or the worst of it. With an inexhaustible fund of good-humor and great quickness of parts, he learns, at once, the cunning and profligacy that qualify him to rise to still greater frauds and a yet wider range of adventures and crimes in the service successively of a priest, a gentleman starving on his own pride, a friar, a seller of indulgences, a chaplain, and an alguazil, until, at last, from the most disgraceful motives, he settles down as a married man; and then the story terminates without reaching any proper conclusion, and without intimating that any is to follow.

Its object is—under the character of a servant with an acuteness that is never at fault, and so small a stock of honesty and truth, that neither of them stands in the way of his success—to give a pungent satire on all classes of society, whose condition Lazarillo well comprehends, because he sees them in undress and behind the scenes. It is written in a very bold, rich, and idiomatic Castilian style, that reminds us of the “Celestina”; and some of its sketches are among the most fresh and spirited that can be found in the whole class of prose works of fiction; so spirited, indeed, and so free, that two of them—those of the friar and the seller of dispensations—were soon put under the ban of the Church, and cut out of the editions that were permitted to be printed under its authority. The whole work is short; but its easy, genial temper, its happy adaptation to Spanish life and manners, and the contrast of the light, good-humored, flexible audacity of Lazarillo himself—a perfectly original conception—with the solemn and unyielding dignity of the old Castilian character, gave it from the first a great popularity. From 1553, when the earliest edition appeared of which we have any knowledge, it was often reprinted, both at home and abroad, and has been more or less a favorite in all languages, down to our own time; becoming the foundation for a class of fictions essentially national, which, under the name of the gusto picaresco, or the style of the rogues, is as well known as any other department of Spanish literature, and one which the “Gil Blas” of Le Sage has made famous throughout the world.[807]

Like other books enjoying a wide reputation, the Lazarillo provoked many imitations. A continuation of it, under the title of “The Second Part of Lazarillo de TÓrmes,” soon appeared, longer than the original, and beginning where the fiction of Mendoza leaves off. But it is without merit, except for an occasional quaintness or witticism. It represents Lazarillo as going upon the expedition undertaken by Charles the Fifth against Algiers, in 1541, and as being in one of the vessels that foundered in a storm, which did much towards disconcerting the whole enterprise. From this point, however, Lazarillo’s story becomes a tissue of absurdities. He sinks to the bottom of the ocean, and there creeps into a cave, where he is metamorphosed into a tunny-fish; and the greater part of the work consists of an account of his glory and happiness in the kingdom of the tunnies. At last, he is caught in a seine, and, in the agony of his fear of death, returns, by an effort of his own will, to the human form; after which he finds his way back to Salamanca, and is living there when he prepares this strange account of his adventures.[808]

A further imitation, but not a proper continuation, under the name of “The Lazarillo of the Manzanares,” in which the state of society at Madrid is satirized, was attempted by Juan CortÉs de Tolosa, and was first printed in 1620. But it produced no effect at the time, and has been long forgotten. Nor was a much better fate reserved for yet another Second Part of the genuine Lazarillo, which was written by Juan de Luna, a teacher of Spanish at Paris, and appeared there the same year the Lazarillo de Manzanares appeared at Madrid. It is, however, more in the spirit of the original work. It exhibits Lazarillo again as a servant to different kinds of masters, and as gentleman-usher of a poor, proud lady of rank; after which he retires from the world, and, becoming a religious recluse, writes this account of himself, which, though not equal to the free and vigorous sketches of the work it professes to complete, is by no means without value, especially for its style.[809]

The author of the Lazarillo de TÓrmes, who, we are told, took the “Amadis” and the “Celestina” for his travelling companions and by-reading,[810] was, as we have intimated, not a person to devote himself to the Church; and we soon hear of him serving as a soldier in the great Spanish armies in Italy; a circumstance to which, in his old age, he alludes with evident pride and pleasure. At those seasons, however, when the troops were unoccupied, we know that he gladly listened to the lectures of the famous professors of Bologna, Padua, and Rome, and added largely to his already large stores of elegant knowledge.

A character so strongly marked would naturally attract the notice of a monarch, vigilant and clear-sighted, like Charles the Fifth; and as early as 1538, Mendoza was made his ambassador to the republic of Venice, then one of the leading powers of Europe. But there, too, though much busied with grave negotiations, he loved to be familiar with men of letters. The Aldi were then at the height of their reputation, and he assisted and patronized them. Paulus Manutius dedicated to him an edition of the philosophical works of Cicero, acknowledging his skill as a critic and praising his Latinity, though, at the same time, he says that Mendoza rather exhorted the young to study philosophy and science in their native languages;—a proof of liberality rare in an age when the admiration for the ancients led a great number of classical scholars to treat whatever was modern and vernacular with contempt. At one period, he gave himself up to the pursuit of Greek and Latin literature with a zeal such as Petrarch had shown long before him. He sent to Thessaly and the famous convent of Mount Athos, to collect Greek manuscripts. Josephus was first printed complete from his library, and so were some of the Fathers of the Church. And when, on one occasion, he had done so great a favor to the Sultan Soliman that he was invited to demand any return from that monarch’s gratitude, the only reward he would consent to receive for himself was a present of some Greek manuscripts, which, as he said, amply repaid all his services.

But, in the midst of studies so well suited to his taste and character, the Emperor called him away to more important duties. He was made military governor of Siena, and required to hold both the Pope and the Florentines in check; a duty which he fulfilled, though not without peril to his life. Somewhat later he was sent to the great Council of Trent, known as a political no less than an ecclesiastical congress, in order to sustain the Imperial interests there, and succeeded, by the exercise of a degree of firmness, address, and eloquence which would alone have made him one of the most considerable persons in the Spanish monarchy. While at the Council, however, in consequence of the urgency of affairs, he was despatched, as a special Imperial plenipotentiary to Rome, in 1547, for the bold purpose of confronting and overawing the Pope in his own capital. And in this, too, he succeeded; rebuking Julius the Third in open council, and so establishing his own consideration, as well as that of his country, that for six years afterwards he is to be looked upon as the head of the Imperial party throughout Italy, and almost as a viceroy governing that country, or a large part of it, for the Emperor, by his talents and firmness. But at last he grew weary of this great labor and burden; and the Emperor himself having changed his system and determined to conciliate Europe before he should abdicate, Mendoza returned to Spain in 1554.[811]

The next year, Philip the Second ascended the throne. His policy, however, little resembled that of his father, and Mendoza was not one of those who were well suited to the changed state of things. In consequence of this, he seldom came to court, and was not at all favored by the severe master who now ruled him, as he ruled all the other great men of his kingdom, with a hard and anxious tyranny.[812] One instance of his displeasure against Mendoza, and of the harsh treatment that followed it, is sufficiently remarkable. The ambassador, who, though sixty-four years of age when the event occurred, had lost little of the fire of his youth, fell into a passionate dispute with a courtier in the palace itself. The latter drew a dagger, and Mendoza wrested it from him and threw it out of the balcony where they were standing;—some accounts adding, that he afterwards threw out the courtier himself. Such a quarrel would certainly be accounted an affront to the royal dignity anywhere; but in the eyes of the formal and strict Philip the Second it was all but a mortal offence. He chose to have Mendoza regarded as a madman, and as such exiled him from his court;—an injustice against which the old man struggled in vain for some time, and then yielded himself up to it with loyal dignity.

His amusement during some portion of his exile was—singular as it may seem in one so old—to write poetry.[813] But the occupation had long been familiar to him. In the first edition of the works of Boscan we have an epistle from Mendoza to that poet, evidently written when he was young; besides which, several of his shorter pieces contain internal proof that they were composed in Italy. But, notwithstanding he had been so long in Venice and Rome, and notwithstanding Boscan must have been among his earliest friends, he does not belong entirely to the Italian school of poetry; for, though he has often imitated and fully sanctioned the Italian measures, he often gave himself up to the old redondillas and quintillas, and to the national tone of feeling and reflection appropriate to these ancient forms of Castilian verse.[814]

The truth is, Mendoza had studied the ancients with a zeal and success that had so far imbued his mind with their character and temper, as in some measure to keep out all undue modern influences. The first part of the Epistle to Boscan, already alluded to, though written in flowing terza rima, sounds almost like a translation of the Epistle of Horace to Numicius, and yet it is not even a servile imitation; while the latter part is absolutely Spanish, and gives such a description of domestic life as never entered the imagination of antiquity.[815] The Hymn in honor of Cardinal Espinosa, one of the most finished of his poems, is said to have been written after five days’ constant reading of Pindar, but is nevertheless full of the old Castilian spirit;[816] and his second cancion, though quite in the Italian measure, shows the turns of Horace more than of Petrarch.[817] Still, it is not to be concealed that Mendoza gave the decisive influence of his example to the new forms introduced by Boscan and Garcilasso;—a fact plain from the manner in which that example is appealed to by many of the poets of his time, and especially by Gregorio Silvestre and ChristÓval de Mesa.[818] In both styles, however, he succeeded. There is, perhaps, more richness of thought in the specimens he has given us in the Italian measures than in the others; yet it can hardly be doubted that his heart was in what he wrote upon the old popular foundations. Some of his letrillas, as they would now be called, though they bore different names in his time, are quite charming;[819] and in many parts of the second division of his poems, which is larger than that devoted to the Italian measures, there is a light and idle humor, well fitted to his subjects, and such as might have been anticipated from the author of the “Lazarillo” rather than from the Imperial representative at the Council of Trent and the Papal court. Indeed, some of his verses were so free, that it was thought inexpedient to print them.

The same spirit is apparent in two prose letters, or rather essays thrown into the shape of letters. The first professes to come from a person seeking employment at court, and gives an account of the whole class of Catariberas, or low courtiers, who, in soiled clothes and with base, fawning manners, daily besieged the doors and walks of the President of the Council of Castile, in order to solicit some one of the multitudinous humble offices in his gift. The other is addressed to Pedro de Salazar, ridiculing a book he had published on the wars of the Emperor in Germany, in which, as Mendoza declares, the author took more credit to himself personally than he deserved. Both are written with idiomatic humor, and a native buoyancy and gayety of spirit which seem to have lain at the bottom of his character, and to have broken forth, from time to time, during his whole life, notwithstanding the severe employments which for so many years filled and burdened his thoughts.[820]

The tendency of his mind, however, as he grew old, was naturally to graver subjects; and finding there was no hope of his being recalled to court, he established himself in unambitious retirement at Granada, his native city. But his spirit was not one that would easily sink into inactivity; and if it had been, he had not chosen a home that would encourage such a disposition. For it was a spot, not only full of romantic recollections, but intimately associated with the glory of his own family,—one where he had spent much of his youth, and become familiar with those remains and ruins of the Moorish power which bore witness to days when the plain of Granada was the seat of one of the most luxurious and splendid of the Mohammedan dynasties. Here, therefore, he naturally turned to the early studies of his half-Arabian education, and, arranging his library of curious Moorish manuscripts, devoted himself to the literature and history of his native city, until, at last, apparently from want of other occupation, he determined to write a part of its annals.

The portion he chose was one very recent; that of the rebellion raised by the Moors in 1568-1570, when they were no longer able to endure the oppression of Philip the Second; and it is much to Mendoza’s honor, that, with sympathies entirely Spanish, he has yet done the hated enemies of his faith and people such generous justice, that his book could not be published till many years after his own death,—not, indeed, till the unhappy Moors themselves had been finally expelled from Spain. His means for writing such a work were remarkable. His father, as we have noticed, had been a general in the conquering army of 1492, to which the story of this rebellion necessarily often recurs, and had afterward been governor of Granada. One of his nephews had commanded the troops in this very war. And now, after peace was restored by the submission of the rebels, the old statesman, as he stood amidst the trophies and ruins of the conflict, soon learned from eyewitnesses and partisans whatever of interest had happened on either side that he had not himself seen. Familiar, therefore, with every thing of which he speaks, there is a freshness and power in his sketches that carry us at once into the midst of the scenes and events he describes, and make us sympathize in details too minute to be always interesting, if they were not always marked with the impress of a living reality.[821]

But though his history springs, as it were, vigorously from the very soil to which it relates, it is a sedulous and well-considered imitation of the ancient masters, and entirely unlike the chronicling spirit of the preceding period. The genius of antiquity, indeed, is announced in its first sentence.

“My purpose,” says the old soldier, “is to record that war of Granada which the Catholic King of Spain, Don Philip the Second, son of the unconquered Emperor Don Charles, maintained in the kingdom of Granada, against the newly converted rebels; a part whereof I saw, and a part heard from persons who carried it on by their arms and by their counsels.”

Sallust was undoubtedly Mendoza’s model. Like the War against Catiline, the War of the Moorish Insurrection is a small work, and like that, too, its style is generally rich and bold. But sometimes long passages are evidently imitated from Tacitus, whose vigor and severity the wise diplomatist seems to approach as nearly as he does the more exuberant style of his prevalent master. Some of these imitations are as happy, perhaps, as any that can be produced from the class to which they belong; for they are often no less unconstrained than if they were quite original. Take, for instance, the following passage, which has often been noticed for its spirit and feeling, but which is partly a translation from the account given by Tacitus, in his most picturesque and condensed manner, of the visit made by Germanicus and his army to the spot where lay, unburied, the remains of the three legions of Varus, in the forests of Germany, and of the funeral honors that army paid to the memory of their fallen and almost forgotten countrymen;—the circumstance described by the Spanish historian being so remarkably similar to that given in the Annals of Tacitus, that the imitation is perfectly natural.[822]

During a rebellion of the Moors in 1500-1501, it was thought of consequence to destroy a fort in the mountains that lay towards MÁlaga. The service was dangerous, and none came forward to undertake it, until Alonso de Aguilar, one of the principal nobles in the service of Ferdinand and Isabella, offered himself for the enterprise. His attempt, as had been foreseen, failed, and hardly a man survived to relate the details of the disaster; but Aguilar’s enthusiasm and self-devotion created a great sensation at the time, and were afterwards recorded in more than one of the old ballads of the country.[823]

At the period, however, when Mendoza touches on this unhappy defeat, nearly seventy years had elapsed, and the bones of both Spaniards and Moors still lay whitening on the spot where they had fallen. The war between the two races was again renewed by the insurrection of the conquered; a military expedition was again undertaken into the same mountains; and the Duke of Arcos, its leader, was a lineal descendant of some who had fallen there, and intimately connected with the family of Alonso de Aguilar himself. While, therefore, the troops for this expedition were collecting, the Duke, from a natural curiosity and interest in what so nearly concerned him, took a small body of soldiers and visited the melancholy spot.

“The Duke left Casares,” says Mendoza, “examining and securing the passes of the mountains as he went; a needful providence, on account of the little certainty there is of success in all military adventures. They then began to ascend the range of heights where it was said the bodies had remained unburied, melancholy and loathsome alike to the sight and the memory.[824] For there were among those who now visited it both kinsmen and descendants of the slain, or men who knew by report whatever related to the sad scene. And first they came to the spot where the vanguard had stopped with its leader, in consequence of the darkness of the night; a broad opening between the foot of the mountain and the Moorish fortress, without defence of any sort but such as was afforded by the nature of the place. Here lay human skulls and the bones of horses, heaped confusedly together or scattered about, just as they had chanced to fall, mingled with fragments of arms and bridles and the rich trappings of the cavalry.[825] Farther on, they found the fort of the enemy, of which there were now only a few low remains, nearly levelled with the surface of the soil. And then they went forward, talking about the places where officers, leaders, and common soldiers had perished together; relating how and where those who survived had been saved, among whom were the Count of UreÑa and Pedro de Aguilar, elder son of Don Alonso; speaking of the spot where Don Alonso had retired and defended himself between two rocks; the wound the Moorish captain first gave him on the head, and then another in the breast as he fell; the words he uttered as they closed in the fight, ‘I am Don Alonso,’ and the answer of the chieftain as he struck him down, ‘You are Don Alonso, but I am the chieftain of BenastepÁr’; and of the wounds Don Alonso gave, which were not fatal, as were those he received. They remembered, too, how friends and enemies had alike mourned his fate; and now, on that same spot, the same sorrow was renewed by the soldiers,—a race sparing of its gratitude, except in tears. The general commanded a service to be performed for the dead; and the soldiers present offered up prayers that they might rest in peace, uncertain whether they interceded for their kinsmen or for their enemies,—a feeling which increased their rage and the eagerness they felt for finding those upon whom they could now take vengeance.”[826]

There are several instances like this, in the course of the work, that show how well pleased Mendoza was to step aside into an episode and indulge himself in appropriate ornaments of his subject. The main direction of his story, however, is never unnaturally deviated from; and wherever he goes, he is almost always powerful and effective. Take, for example, the following speech of El Zaguer, one of the principal conspirators, exciting his countrymen to break out into open rebellion, by exposing to them the long series of affronts and cruelties they had suffered from their Spanish oppressors. It reminds us of the speeches of the indignant Carthaginian leaders in Livy.

“Seeing,” says the historian, “that the greatness of the undertaking brought with it hesitation, delays, and exposure to accident and change of opinion, this conspirator collected the principal men together in the house of Zinzan in the Albaycin, and addressed them, setting forth the oppression they had constantly endured, at the hands both of public officers and private persons, till they were become, he said, no less slaves than if they had been formally made such,—their wives, children, estates, and even their own persons, being in the power and at the mercy of their enemies, without the hope of seeing themselves freed from such servitude for centuries,—exposed to as many tyrants as they had neighbours, and suffering constantly new impositions and new taxes,—deprived of the right of sanctuary in places where those take refuge who, through accident or (what is deemed among them the more justifiable cause) through revenge, commit crime,—thrust out from the protection of the very churches at whose religious rites we are yet required, under severe penalties, to be present,—subjected to the priests to enrich them, and yet held to be unworthy of favor from God or men,—treated and regarded as Moors among Christians, that we may be despised, and as Christians among Moors, that we may neither be believed nor consoled. ‘They have excluded us, too,’ he went on, ‘from life and human intercourse; for they forbid us to speak our own language, and we do not understand theirs. In what way, then, are we to communicate with others, or ask or give what life requires,—cut off from the conversation of men, and denied what is not denied even to the brutes? And yet may not he who speaks Castilian still hold to the law of the Prophet, and may not he who speaks Moorish hold to the law of Jesus? They force our children into their religious houses and schools, and teach them arts which our fathers forbade us to learn, lest the purity of our own law should be corrupted, and its very truth be made a subject of doubt and quarrels. They threaten, too, to tear these our children from the arms of their mothers and the protection of their fathers, and send them into foreign lands, where they shall forget our manners, and become the enemies of those to whom they owe their existence. They command us to change our dress and wear clothes like the Castilians. Yet among themselves the Germans dress in one fashion, the French in another, and the Greeks in another; their friars, too, and their young men, and their old men, have all separate costumes; each nation, each profession, each class, has its own peculiar dress, and still all are Christians;—while we—we Moors—are not to be allowed to dress like Moors, as if we wore our faith in our raiment and not in our hearts.’”[827]

This is certainly picturesque; and so is the greater part of the whole history, both from its subject and from the manner in which it is treated. Nor is it lacking in dignity and elevation. Its style is bold and abrupt, but true to the idiom of the language; and the current of thought is deep and strong, easily carrying the reader onward with its flood. Nothing in the old chronicling style of the earlier period is to be compared to it, and little in any subsequent period is equal to it for manliness, vigor, and truth.[828]

The War of Granada is the last literary labor its author undertook. He was, indeed, above seventy years old when he finished it; and, perhaps to signify that he now renounced the career of letters, he collected his library, both the classics and manuscripts he had procured with so much trouble in Italy and Greece, and the curious Arabic works he had found in Granada, and presented the whole to his severe sovereign for his favorite establishment of the Escurial, among whose untold treasures they still hold a prominent place. At any rate, after this, we hear nothing of the old statesman, except that, for some reason or other, Philip the Second permitted him to come to court again; and that, a few days after he arrived at Madrid, he was seized with a violent illness, of which he died in April, 1575, seventy-two years old.[829]

On whatever side we regard the character of Mendoza, we feel sure that he was an extraordinary man; but the combination of his powers is, after all, what is most to be wondered at. In all of them, however, and especially in the union of a life of military adventure and active interest in affairs with a sincere love of learning and elegant letters, he showed himself to be a genuine Spaniard;—the elements of greatness which his various fortunes had thus unfolded within him being all among the elements of Spanish national poetry and eloquence, in their best age and most generous development. The loyal old knight, therefore, may well stand forward with those who, first in the order of time, as well as of merit, are to constitute that final school of Spanish literature which was built on the safe foundations of the national genius and character, and can, therefore, never be shaken by the floods or convulsions of the ages that may come after it.


CHAPTER V.

Didactic Poetry. — Luis de Escobar. — Corelas. — Torre. — Didactic Prose. — Villalobos. — Oliva. — SedeÑo. — Salazar. — Luis Mexia. — Pedro Mexia. — Navarra. — Urrea. — Palacios Rubios. — Vanegas. — Juan de Avila. — Antonio de Guevara. — DiÁlogo de las Lenguas. — Progress of the Castilian from the Time of John the Second to that of the Emperor Charles the Fifth.

While an Italian spirit, or, at least, an observance of Italian forms, was beginning so decidedly to prevail in Spanish lyric and pastoral poetry, what was didactic, whether in prose or verse, took directions somewhat different.

In didactic poetry, among other forms, the old one of question and answer, known from the age of Juan de Mena, and found in the Cancioneros as late as Badajoz, continued to enjoy much favor. Originally, such questions seem to have been riddles and witticisms; but in the sixteenth century they gradually assumed a graver character, and at last claimed to be directly and absolutely didactic, constituting a form in which two remarkable books of light and easy verse were produced. The first of these books is called “The Four Hundred Answers to as many Questions of the Illustrious Don Fadrique Enriquez, the Admiral of Castile, and other Persons.” It was printed three times in 1545, the year in which it first appeared, and had undoubtedly a great success in the class of society to which it was addressed, and whose manners and opinions it strikingly illustrates. It contains at least twenty thousand verses, and was followed, in 1552, by another similar volume, partly in prose, and promising a third, which, however, was never published. Except five hundred proverbs, as they are inappropriately called, at the end of the first volume, and fifty glosses at the end of the second, the whole consists of such ingenious questions as a distinguished old nobleman in the reign of Charles the Fifth and his friends might imagine it would amuse or instruct them to have solved. They are on subjects as various as possible,—religion, morals, history, medicine, magic,—in short, whatever could occur to idle and curious minds; but they were all sent to an acute, good-humored Minorite friar, Luis de Escobar, who, being bed-ridden with the gout and other grievous maladies, had nothing better to do than to answer them.

His answers form the body of the work. Some of them are wise and some foolish, some are learned and some absurd; but they all bear the impression of their age. Once we have a long letter of advice about a godly life, sent to the Admiral, which, no doubt, was well suited to his case; and repeatedly we get complaints from the old monk himself of his sufferings, and accounts of what he was doing; so that from different parts of the two volumes it would be possible to collect a tolerably distinct picture of the amusements of society, if not its occupations, about the court, at the period when they were written. The poetry is in many respects not unlike that of Tusser, who was contemporary with Escobar, but it is better and more spirited.[830]The second book of questions and answers to which we have referred is graver than the first. It was printed the next year after the great success of Escobar’s work, and is called “Three Hundred Questions concerning Natural Subjects, with their Answers,” by Alonso Lopez de Corelas, a physician, who had more learning, perhaps, than the monk he imitated, but is less amusing, and writes in verses neither so well constructed nor so agreeable.[831]

Others followed, like Gonzalez de la Torre, who in 1590 dedicated to the heir-apparent of the Spanish throne a volume of such dull religious riddles as were admired a century before.[832] But nobody, who wrote in this peculiar didactic style of verse, equalled Escobar, and it soon passed out of general notice and regard.[833]

In prose, about the same time, a fashion appeared of imitating the Roman didactic prose-writers, just as those writers had been imitated by Castiglione, Bembo, Giovanni della Casa, and others in Italy. The impulse seems plainly to have been communicated to Spain by the moderns, and not by the ancients. It was because the Italians led the way that the Romans were imitated, and not because the example of Cicero and Seneca had, of itself, been able to form a prose school, of any kind, beyond the Pyrenees.[834] The fashion was not one of so much importance and influence as that introduced into the poetry of the nation; but it is worthy of notice, both on account of its results during the reign of Charles the Fifth, and on account of an effect more or less distinct which it had on the prose style of the nation afterwards.

The eldest among the prominent writers produced by this state of things was Francisco de Villalobos, of whom we know little, except that he belonged to a family which, for several successive generations, had been devoted to the medical art; that he was himself the physician, first of Ferdinand the Catholic,[835] and then of Charles the Fifth; that he published, as early as 1498, a poem on his own science, in five hundred stanzas, founded on the rules of Avicenna;[836] and that he continued to be known as an author, chiefly on subjects connected with his profession, till 1543, before which time he had become weary of the court, and sought a voluntary retirement, where he died, above seventy years old.[837] His translation of the “Amphitryon” of Plautus belongs rather to the theatre, but, like that of Oliva, soon to be mentioned, produced no effect there, and, like his scientific treatises, demands no especial notice. The rest of his works, including all that belong to the department of elegant literature, are to be found in a volume of moderate size, which he dedicated to the Infante Don Luis of Portugal.

The chief of them is called “Problems,” and is divided into two tractates;—the first, which is very short, being on the Sun, the Planets, the Four Elements, and the Terrestrial Paradise; and the last, which is longer, on Man and Morals, beginning with an essay on Satan, and ending with one on Flattery and Flatterers, which is especially addressed to the heir-apparent of the crown of Spain, afterwards Philip the Second. Each of these subdivisions, in each tractate, has eight lines of the old Spanish verse prefixed to it, as its Problem, or text, and the prose discussion which follows, like a gloss, constitutes the substance of the work. The whole is of a very miscellaneous character; most of it grave, like the essays on Knights and Prelates, but some of it amusing, like an essay on the Marriage of Old Men.[838] The best portions are those that have a satirical vein in them; such as the ridicule of litigious old men, and of old men that wear paint.[839]A Dialogue on Intermittent Fevers, a Dialogue on the Natural Heat of the Body, and a Dialogue between the Doctor and the Duke, his patient, are all quite in the manner of the contemporary didactic discussions of the Italians, except that the last contains passages of a broad and free humor, approaching more nearly to the tone of comedy, or rather of farce.[840] A treatise that follows, on the Three Great Annoyances of much talking, much disputing, and much laughing,[841] and a grave discourse on Love, with which the volume ends, are all that remain worth notice. They have the same general characteristics with the rest of his miscellanies; the style of some portions of them being distinguished by more purity and more pretensions to dignity than have been found in the earlier didactic prose-writers, and especially by greater clearness and exactness of expression. Occasionally, too, we meet with an idiomatic familiarity, frankness, and spirit that are very attractive, and that partly compensate us for the absurdities of the old and forgotten doctrines in natural history and medicine, which Villalobos inculcated because they were the received doctrines of his time.

The next writer of the same class, and, on the whole, one much more worthy of consideration, is Fernan Perez de Oliva, a Cordovese, who was born about 1492, and died, still young, in 1530. His father was a lover of letters; and the son, as he himself informs us, was educated with care from his earliest youth. At twelve years of age, he was already a student in the University of Salamanca; after which he went, first, to AlcalÁ, when it was in the beginning of its glory; then to Paris, whose University had long attracted students from every part of Europe; and finally to Rome, where, under the protection of an uncle at the court of Leo the Tenth, all the advantages to be found in the most cultivated capital of Christendom were accessible to him.

On his uncle’s death, it was proposed to him to take the offices left vacant by that event; but, loving letters more than courtly honors, he went back to Paris, where he taught and lectured in its University for three years. Another Pope, Adrian the Sixth, was now on the throne, and, hearing of Oliva’s success, endeavoured anew to draw him to Rome; but the love of his country and of literature continued to be stronger than the love of ecclesiastical preferment. He returned, therefore, to Salamanca; became one of the original members of the rich “College of the Archbishop,” founded in 1528; and was successively chosen Professor of Ethics in the University, and its Rector. But he had hardly risen to his highest distinctions, when he died suddenly, and at a moment when so many hopes rested on him, that his death was felt as a misfortune to the cause of letters throughout Spain.[842]

Oliva’s studies at Rome had taught him how successfully the Latin writers had been imitated by the Italians, and he became anxious that they should be no less successfully imitated by the Spaniards. He felt it as a wrong done to his native language, that almost all serious prose discussions in Spain were still carried on in Latin rather than in Spanish.[843] Taking a hint, then, from Castiglione’s “Cortigiano,” and opposing the current of opinion among the learned men with whom he lived and acted, he began a didactic dialogue on the Dignity of Man, formally defending it as a work in the Spanish language written by a Spaniard. Besides this, he wrote several strictly didactic discourses;—one on the Faculties of the Mind and their Proper Use; another urging CÓrdova, his native city, to improve the navigation of the Guadalquivir, and so obtain a portion of the rich commerce of the Indies, which was then monopolized by Seville; and another, that was delivered at Salamanca, when he was a candidate for the chair of moral philosophy;—in all which his nephew, Morales, the historian, assures us it was his uncle’s strong desire to furnish practical examples of the power and resources of the Spanish language.[844]

The purpose of giving greater dignity to his native tongue, by employing it, instead of the Latin, on all the chief subjects of human inquiry, was certainly a fortunate one in Oliva, and soon found imitators. Juan de SedeÑo published, in 1536, two prose dialogues on Love and one on Happiness; the former in a more graceful tone of gallantry, and the latter in a more philosophical spirit and with more terseness of manner, than belonged to the age.[845] Francisco Cervantes de Salazar, a man of learning, completed the dialogue of Oliva on the Dignity of Man, which had been left unfinished, and, dedicating it to Fernando CortÉs, published it in 1546,[846] together with a long prose fable by Luis Mexia, on Idleness and Labor, written in a pure and somewhat elevated style, but too much indebted to the “Vision” of the Bachiller de la Torre.[847] Pedro de Navarra published, in 1567, forty Moral Dialogues, partly the result of conversations held in an Academia of distinguished persons, who met, from time to time, at the house of Fernando CortÉs.[848] Pedro Mexia, the chronicler, wrote a Silva, or Miscellany, divided, in the later editions, into six books, and subdivided into a multitude of separate essays, historical and moral; declaring it to be the first work of the kind in Spanish, which, he says, he considers quite as suitable for such discussions as the Italian.[849] To this, which may be regarded as an imitation of Macrobius or of AthenÆus, and which was printed in 1543, he added, in 1547, six didactic dialogues,—curious, but of little value,—in the first of which the advantages and disadvantages of having regular physicians are agreeably set forth, with a lightness and exactness of style hardly to have been expected.[850] And finally, to complete the short list, Urrea, a favored soldier of the Emperor, and at one time viceroy of Apulia,—the same person who made the poor translation of Ariosto mentioned in Don Quixote,—published, in 1566, a Dialogue on True Military Honor, which is written in a pleasant and easy style, and contains, mingled with the notions of one who says he trained himself for glory by reading romances of chivalry, not a few amusing anecdotes of duels and military adventures.[851]Both of the works of Pedro Mexia, but especially his Silva, enjoyed no little popularity during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; and, in point of style, they are certainly not without merit. None, however, of the productions of any one of the authors last mentioned had so much force and character as the first part of the Dialogue on the Dignity of Man. And yet Oliva was certainly not a person of a commanding genius. His imagination never warms into poetry; his invention is never sufficient to give new and strong views to his subject; and his system of imitating both the Latin and the Italian masters rather tends to debilitate than to impart vigor to his thoughts. But there is a general reasonableness and wisdom in what he says that win and often satisfy us, and these, with his style, which, though sometimes declamatory, is yet, on the whole, pure and well settled, and his happy idea of defending and employing the Castilian, then coming into all its rights as a living language, have had the effect of giving him a more lasting reputation than that of any other Spanish prose-writer of his time.[852]

The same general tendency to a more formal and elegant style of discussion is found in a few other ethical and religious authors of the reign of Charles the Fifth that are still remembered; such as Palacios Rubios, who wrote an essay on Military Courage, for the benefit of his son;[853] Vanegas, who, under the title of “The Agony of Passing through Death,” gives us what may rather be considered an ascetic treatise on holy living;[854] and Juan de Avila, sometimes called the Apostle of Andalusia, whose letters are fervent exhortations to virtue and religion, composed with care and often with eloquence, if not with entire purity of style.[855]

The author in this class, however, who during his lifetime had the most influence was Antonio de Guevara, one of the official chroniclers of Charles the Fifth. He was a Biscayan by birth, and passed some of his earlier years at the court of Queen Isabella. In 1528 he became a Franciscan monk, but, enjoying the favor of the Emperor, he seems to have been transformed into a thorough courtier, accompanying his master during his journeys and residences in Italy and other parts of Europe, and rising successively, by the royal patronage, to be court preacher, Imperial historiographer, Bishop of Guadix, and Bishop of MondoÑedo. He died in 1545.[856]

His works were not numerous, but they were fitted to the atmosphere in which they were produced and enjoyed at once a great popularity. His “Dial for Princes, or Marcus Aurelius,” first published in 1529, and the fruit, as he tells us, of eleven years’ labor,[857] was not only often reprinted in Spanish, but was translated into Latin, Italian, French, and English; in each of which last two languages it appeared many times before the end of the century.[858] It is a kind of romance, founded on the life and character of Marcus Aurelius, and resembles, in some points, the “CyropÆdia” of Xenophon; its purpose being to place before the Emperor Charles the Fifth the model of a prince more perfect for wisdom and virtue than any other of antiquity. But the Bishop of MondoÑedo adventured beyond his prerogative. He pretended that his Marcus Aurelius was genuine history, and appealed to a manuscript in Florence, which did not exist, as if he had done little more than make a translation of it. In consequence of this, Pedro de Rua, a professor of elegant literature in the college at Soria, addressed a letter to him, in 1540, exposing the fraud. Two other letters followed, written with more freedom and purity of style than any thing in the works of the Bishop himself, and leaving him no real ground on which to stand.[859] He, however, defended himself as well as he was able; at first cautiously, but afterwards, when he was more closely assailed, by assuming the wholly untenable position, that all ancient profane history was no more true than his romance of Marcus Aurelius, and that he had as good a right to invent for his own high purposes as Herodotus or Livy. From this time he was severely attacked; more so, perhaps, than he would have been, if the gross frauds of Annius of Viterbo had not then been recent. But however this may be, it was done with a bitterness that forms a strong contrast to the applause bestowed in France, near the end of the eighteenth century, upon a somewhat similar work on the same subject by Thomas.[860]

After all, however, the “Dial for Princes” is little worthy of the excitement it occasioned. It is filled with letters and speeches ill conceived and inappropriate; and is written in a formal and inflated style. Perhaps we are now indebted to it for nothing so much as for the beautiful fable of “The Peasant of the Danube,” evidently suggested to La Fontaine by one of the discourses through which Guevara endeavoured to give life and reality to his fictions.[861]In the same spirit, though with less boldness, he wrote his “Lives of the Ten Roman Emperors”; a work which, like his Dial for Princes, he dedicated to Charles the Fifth. In general, he has here followed the authorities on which he claims to found his narrative, such as Dion Cassius and the minor Latin historians, showing, at the same time, a marked desire to imitate Plutarch and Suetonius, whom he announces as his models. But he has not been able entirely to resist the temptation of inserting fictitious letters, and even unfounded stories; thus giving a false view, if not of the facts of history, at least of some of the characters he records. His style, however, though it still wants purity and appropriateness, is better and more simple than it is in his romance on Marcus Aurelius.[862]

Similar characteristics mark a large collection of Letters printed by him as early as 1539. Many of them are addressed to persons of great consideration in his time, such as the Marquis of Pescara, the Duke of Alva, IÑigo de Velasco, Grand Constable of Castile, and Fadrique Enriquez, Grand Admiral. But some were evidently never sent to the persons addressed, like the loyal one to Juan de Padilla, the head of the Comuneros, and two impertinent letters to the Governor Luis Bravo, who had foolishly fallen in love in his old age. Others are mere fictions; among which are a correspondence of the Emperor Trajan with Plutarch and the Roman Senate, which Guevara vainly protests he translated from the Greek, without saying where he found the originals,[863] and a long epistle about LaÏs and other courtesans of antiquity, in which he gives the details of their conversations as if he had listened to them himself. Most of the letters, though they are called “Familiar Epistles,” are merely essays or disputations, and a few are sermons in form, with an announcement of the occasions on which they were preached. None has the easy or natural air of a real correspondence. In fact, they were all, no doubt, prepared expressly for publication and for effect; and, notwithstanding their stiffness and formality, were greatly admired. They were often printed in Spain; they were translated into all the principal languages of Europe; and, to express the value set on them, they were generally called “The Golden Epistles.” But notwithstanding their early success, they have long been disregarded, and only a few passages that touch the affairs of the time or the life of the Emperor can now be read with interest or pleasure.[864]

Besides these works, Guevara wrote several formal treatises. Two are strictly theological.[865] Another is on the Inventors of the Art of Navigation and its Practice;—a subject which might be thought foreign from the Bishop’s experience, but with which, he tells us, he had become familiar by having been much at sea, and visited many ports on the Mediterranean.[866] Of his two other treatises, which are all that remain to be noticed, one is called “Contempt of Court Life and Praise of the Country”; and the other, “Counsels for Favorites, and Teachings for Courtiers.” They are moral discussions, suggested by Castiglione’s “Courtier,” then at the height of its popularity, and are written with great elaborateness, in a solemn and stiff style, bearing the same relations to truth and wisdom that Arcadian pastorals do to nature.[867]

All the works of Guevara show the impress of their age, and mark their author’s position at court. They are burdened with learning, yet not without proofs of experience in the ways of the world;—they often show good sense, but they are monotonous from the stately dignity he thinks it necessary to assume on his own account, and from the rhetorical ornament by which he hopes to commend them to the regard of his readers. Such as they are, however, they illustrate and exemplify, more truly, perhaps, than any thing else of their age, the style of writing most in favor at the court of Charles the Fifth, especially during the latter part of that monarch’s reign.

But by far the best didactic prose work of this period, though unknown and unpublished till two centuries afterwards, is that commonly cited under the simple title of “The Dialogue on Languages”;—a work which, at any time, would be deemed remarkable for the naturalness and purity of its style, and is peculiarly so at this period of formal and elaborate eloquence. “I write,” says its author, “as I speak; only I take more pains to think what I have to say, and then I say it as simply as I can; for, to my mind, affectation is out of place in all languages.” Who it was that entertained an opinion so true, but in his time so uncommon, is not certain. Probably it was Juan ValdÉs, a person who enjoys the distinction of being one of the first Spaniards that embraced the opinions of the Reformation, and the very first who made an effort to spread them. He was educated at the University of AlcalÁ, and during a part of his life possessed not a little political consequence, being much about the person of the Emperor, and sent by him to act as secretary and adviser to Toledo, the great viceroy of Naples. It is not known what became of him afterwards; but he died in 1540, six years before Charles the Fifth attempted to establish the Inquisition in Naples; and therefore it is not likely that he was seriously molested while he was in office there.[868]

The Dialogue on Languages is supposed to be carried on between two Spaniards and two Italians, at a country-house on the sea-shore, near Naples, and is an acute discussion on the origin and character of the Castilian. Parts of it are learned, but in these the author sometimes falls into errors;[869] other parts are lively and entertaining; and yet others are full of good sense and sound criticism. The principal personage—the one who gives all the instructions and explanations—is named ValdÉs; and from this circumstance, as well as from some intimations in the Dialogue itself, it may be inferred that the reformer was its author, and that it was written before 1536;[870]—a point which, if established, would account for the suppression of the manuscript, as the work of an adherent of Luther. In any event, the Dialogue was not printed till 1737, and therefore, as a specimen of pure and easy style, was lost on the age that produced it.[871]

For us it is important, because it shows, with more distinctness than any other literary monument of its time, what was the state of the Spanish language in the reign of the Emperor Charles the Fifth; a circumstance of consequence to the condition of the literature, and one to which we therefore turn with interest.

As might be expected, we find, when we look back, that the language of letters in Spain has made material progress since we last noticed it in the reign of John the Second. The example of Juan de Mena had been followed, and the national vocabulary enriched during the interval of a century, by successive poets, from the languages of classical antiquity. From other sources, too, and through other channels, important contributions had flowed in. From America and its commerce had come the names of those productions which half a century of intercourse had brought to Spain, and rendered familiar there,—terms few, indeed, in number, but of daily use.[872] From Germany and the Low Countries still more had been introduced by the accession of Charles the Fifth,[873] who, to the great annoyance of his Spanish subjects, arrived in Spain surrounded by foreign courtiers, and speaking with a stranger accent the language of the country he was called to govern.[874] A few words, too, had come accidentally from France; and now, in the reign of Philip the Second, a great number, amounting to the most considerable infusion the language had received since the time of the Arabs, were brought in through the intimate connection of Spain with Italy and the increasing influence of Italian letters and Italian culture.[875]

We may therefore consider that the Spanish language at this period was not only formed, but that it had reached substantially its full proportions, and had received all its essential characteristics. Indeed, it had already for half a century been regularly cared for and cultivated. Alonso de Palencia, who had long been in the service of his country as an ambassador, and was afterwards its chronicler, published a Latin and Spanish Dictionary in 1490; the oldest in which a Castilian vocabulary is to be found.[876] This was succeeded, two years later, by the first Castilian Grammar, the work of Antonio de Lebrixa, who had before published a Latin Grammar in the Latin language, and translated it for the benefit, as he tells us, of the ladies of the court.[877] Other similar and equally successful attempts followed. A purely Spanish Dictionary by Lebrixa, the first of its kind, appeared in 1492, and a Dictionary for ecclesiastical purposes, in both Latin and Spanish, by Santa Ella, succeeded it in 1499; both often reprinted afterwards, and long regarded as standard authorities.[878] All these works, so important for the consolidation of the language, and so well constructed that successors to them were not found till above a century later,[879] were, it should be observed, produced under the direct and personal patronage of Queen Isabella, who in this, as in so many other ways, gave proof at once of her far-sightedness in affairs of state, and of her wise tastes and preferences in whatever regarded the intellectual cultivation of her subjects.[880]The language thus formed was now fast spreading throughout the kingdom, and displacing dialects some of which, as old as itself, had seemed, at one period, destined to surpass it in cultivation and general prevalence. The ancient Galician, in which Alfonso the Wise was educated, and in which he sometimes wrote, was now known as a polite language only in Portugal, where it had risen to be so independent of the stock from which it sprang as almost to disavow its origin. The Valencian and Catalonian, those kindred dialects of the ProvenÇal race, whose influences in the thirteenth century were felt through the whole Peninsula, claimed, at this period, something of their earlier dignity only below the last range of hills on the coast of the Mediterranean. The Biscayan alone, unchanged as the mountains which sheltered it, still preserved for itself the same separate character it had at the earliest dawnings of tradition,—a character which has continued essentially the same down to our own times.

But though the Castilian, advancing with the whole authority of the government, which at this time spoke to the people of all Spain in no other language, was heard and acknowledged throughout the country as the language of the state and of all political power, still the popular and local habits of four centuries could not be at once or entirely broken up. The Galician, the Valencian, and the Catalonian continued to be spoken in the age of Charles the Fifth, and are spoken now by the masses of the people in their respective provinces, and to some extent in the refined society of each. Even Andalusia and Aragon have not yet emancipated themselves completely from their original idioms; and in the same way, each of the other grand divisions of the country, several of which were at one time independent kingdoms, are still, like Estremadura and La Mancha, distinguished by peculiarities of phraseology and accent.[881]

Castile alone, and especially Old Castile, claims, as of inherited right, from the beginning of the fifteenth century, the prerogative of speaking absolutely pure Spanish. Villalobos, it is true, who was always a flatterer of royal authority, insisted that this prerogative followed the residences of the sovereign and the court;[882] but the better opinion has been, that the purest form of the Castilian must be sought at Toledo,—the Imperial Toledo, as it was called,—peculiarly favored when it was the political capital of the ancient monarchy in the time of the Goths, and consecrated anew as the ecclesiastical head of all Christian Spain, the moment it was rescued from the hands of the Moors.[883] It has even been said, that the supremacy of this venerable city in the purity of its dialect was so fully settled, from the first appearance of the language as the language of the state in the thirteenth century, that Alfonso the Wise, in a Cortes held there, directed the meaning of any disputed word to be settled by its use at Toledo.[884] But however this may be, there is no question, that, from the time of Charles the Fifth to the present day, the Toledan has been considered, on the whole, the normal form of the national language, and that, from the same period, the Castilian dialect, having vindicated for itself an absolute supremacy over all the other dialects of the monarchy, has been the only one recognized as the language of the classical poetry and prose of the whole country.


CHAPTER VI.

Chronicling Period gone by. — Charles the Fifth. — Guevara. — Ocampo. — SepÚlveda. — Mexia. — Accounts of the New World. — CortÉs. — Gomara. — Bernal Diaz. — Oviedo. — Las Casas. — Vaca. — Xerez. — Çarate.

At the beginning of the sixteenth century, it is obvious that the age for chronicles had gone by in Spain. Still it was thought for the dignity of the monarchy that the stately forms of the elder time should, in this as in other particulars, be kept up by public authority. Charles the Fifth, therefore, as if his ambitious projects as a conqueror were to find their counterpart in his arrangements for recording their success, had several authorized chroniclers, all men of consideration and learning. But the shadow on the dial would not go back at the royal command. The greatest monarch of his time could appoint chroniclers, but he could not give them the spirit of an age that was past. The chronicles he demanded at their hands were either never undertaken or never finished. Antonio de Guevara, one of the persons to whom these duties were assigned, seems to have been singularly conscientious in the devotion of his time to them; for we are told, that, by his will, he ordered the salary of one year, during which he had written nothing of his task, to be returned to the Imperial treasury. This, however, did not imply that he was a successful chronicler.[885] What he wrote was not thought worthy of being published by his contemporaries, and would probably be judged no more favorably by the present generation, unless it discovered a greater regard for historical truth, and a better style, than are found in his discussions on the life and character of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius.[886]

Florian de Ocampo, another of the more distinguished of the chroniclers, showed a wide ambition in the plan he proposed to himself; beginning his chronicles of Charles the Fifth as far back as the days of Noah’s flood. As might have been foreseen, he lived only so long as to finish a small fragment of his vast undertaking;—hardly a quarter part of the first of its four grand divisions.[887] But he went far enough to show how completely the age for such writing was passed away.[888] Not that he failed in credulity; for of that he had more than enough. It was not, however, the poetical credulity of his predecessors, trusting to the old national traditions, but an easy faith, that believed in the wearisome forgeries called the works of Berosus and Manetho,[889] which had been discredited from their first appearance half a century before, and yet were now used by Ocampo as if they were the probable, if not the sufficient, records of an uninterrupted succession of Spanish kings from Tubal, a grandson of Noah. Such a credulity has no charm about it. But besides this, the work of Ocampo, in its very structure, is dry and absurd; and, being written in a formal and heavy style, it is all but impossible to read it. He died in 1555, the year the Emperor abdicated, leaving us little occasion to regret that he had brought his annals of Spain no lower down than the age of the Scipios.

Juan Ginez de SepÚlveda was also charged by the Emperor fitly to record the events of his reign;[890] and so was Pero Mexia;[891] but the history of the former, which was first published by the Academy in 1780, is in Latin, while that of Mexia, written, apparently, after 1545, and coming down to the coronation at Bologna, was never published at all.[892] A larger history, however, by the last author, consisting of the lives of all the Roman emperors from Julius CÆsar to Maximilian of Austria, the predecessor of Charles the Fifth, which was printed several times, and is spoken of as an introduction to his Chronicle, shows, notwithstanding its many imperfections of style, that his purpose was to write a true and well-digested history, since he generally refers, under each reign, to the authorities on which he relies.[893]Such works as these prove to us that we have reached the final limit of the old chronicling style; and that we must now look for the appearance of the different forms of regular historical composition in Spanish literature. But before we approach them, we must pause a moment on a few histories and accounts of the New World, which, during the reign of Charles the Fifth, were of more importance than the imperfect chronicles we have just noticed of the Spanish empire in Europe. For as soon as the adventurers that followed Columbus were landed on the western shores of the Atlantic, we begin to find narratives, more or less ample, of their discoveries and settlements; some written with spirit, and even in good taste; others quite unattractive in their style; but nearly all interesting from their subject and their materials, if from nothing else.

In the foreground of this picturesque group stands, as the most brilliant of its figures, Fernando CortÉs, called, by way of eminence, El Conquistador, the Conqueror. He was born of noble parentage, and carefully bred; and though his fiery spirit drove him from Salamanca before his education could be completed, and brought him to the New World, in 1504, when he was hardly nineteen years old,[894] still the nurture of his youth, so much better than that of most of the other American adventurers, is apparent in his voluminous documents and letters, both published and unpublished. Of these, the most remarkable were, no doubt, five long and detailed Reports to the Emperor on the affairs of Mexico; the first of which, and probably the most curious, dated in 1519, seems to be lost, and the last, belonging, probably, to 1527, exists only in manuscript.[895] The four that remain are well written and have a business-like air about them, as well as a clearness and good taste which remind us sometimes, though rarely, of the “Relazioni” of Machiavelli, and sometimes of CÆsar’s Commentaries. His letters, on the other hand, are occasionally more ornamented. In an unpublished one, written about 1533, and in which, when his fortunes were waning, he sets forth his services and his wrongs, he pleases himself with telling the Emperor that he “keeps two of his Majesty’s letters like holy relics,” adding, that “the favors of his Majesty towards him had been quite too ample for so small a vase”;—courtly and graceful phrases, such as are not found in the documents of his later years, when, disappointed and disgusted with affairs and with the court, he retired to a morose solitude, where he died in 1554, little consoled by his rank, his wealth, or his glory.

The marvellous achievements of CortÉs in Mexico, however, were more fully, if not more accurately, recorded by Francisco Lopez de Gomara,—the oldest of the regular historians of the New World,[896]—who was born at Seville in 1510, and was, for some time, Professor of Rhetoric at AlcalÁ. His early life, spent in the great mart of the American adventurers, seems to have given him an interest in them and a knowledge of their affairs which led him to write their history. The works he produced, besides one or two of less consequence, were, first, his “History of the Indies,” which, after the Spanish fashion, begins with the creation of the world, and ends with the glories of Spain, though it is chiefly devoted to Columbus and the discovery and conquest of Peru; and, second, his “Chronicle of New Spain,” which is, in truth, merely the History and Life of CortÉs, and which, with this more appropriate title, was reprinted by Bustamente, in Mexico, in 1826.[897] As the earliest records that were published concerning affairs which already stirred the whole of Christendom, these works had, at once, a great success, passing through two editions almost immediately, and being soon translated into French and Italian.

But though Gomara’s style is easy and flowing, both in his mere narration and in those parts of his works which so amply describe the resources of the newly discovered countries, he did not succeed in producing any thing of permanent authority. He was the secretary of CortÉs, and was misled by information received from him, and from other persons, who were too much a part of the story they undertook to relate to tell it fairly.[898] His mistakes, in consequence, are great and frequent, and were exposed with much zeal by Bernal Diaz, an old soldier, who, having already been twice to the New World, went with CortÉs to Mexico in 1519,[899] and fought there so often and so long, that, many years afterwards, he declared he could sleep with comfort only when his armour was on.[900] As soon as he read the accounts of Gomara, he set himself sturdily at work to answer them, and in 1558 completed his task.[901] The book he thus produced is written with much personal vanity, and runs, in a rude style, into wearisome details; but it is full of the zealous and honest nationality of the old chronicles, so that, while we are reading it, we seem to be carried back into the preceding ages, and to be again in the midst of a sort of fervor and faith which, in writers like Gomara and CortÉs, we feel sure we are fast leaving behind us.

Among the persons who early came to America, and have left important records of their adventures and times, one of the most considerable was Gonzalo Fernandez de Oviedo. He was born at Madrid, in 1478,[902] and, having been well educated at the court of Ferdinand and Isabella, as one of the pages of Prince John, was sent out, in 1513, as a supervisor of gold-smeltings, to San Domingo,[903] where, except occasional visits to Spain and to different Spanish possessions in America, he lived nearly forty years, devoted to the affairs of the New World. Oviedo seems, from his youth, to have had a passion for writing; and, besides several less considerable works, among which were imperfect chronicles of Ferdinand and Isabella and of Charles the Fifth, and a life of Cardinal Ximenes,[904] he prepared two of no small value.

The most important of these two is “The Natural and General History of the Indies,” filling fifty books, of which the first portions, embracing twenty-one, were published in 1535, while the rest are still found only in manuscript. As early as 1525, when he was at Toledo, and offered Charles the Fifth a summary of the History of Hispaniola, he speaks of his desire to have his larger work printed. But it appears, from the beginning of the thirty-third book and the end of the thirty-fourth, that he was still employed upon it in 1547 and 1548; and it is not unlikely, from the words with which he concludes the thirty-seventh, that he kept each of its larger divisions open, and continued to make additions to them nearly to the time of his death.[905]He tells us that he had the Emperor’s authority to demand, from the different governors of Spanish America, the documents he might need for his work;[906] and as his divisions of the subject are those which naturally arise from its geography, he appears to have gone judiciously about his task. But the materials he was to use were in too crude a state to be easily manageable, and the whole subject was too wide and various for his powers. He falls, therefore, into a loose, rambling style, instead of aiming at philosophical condensation; and, far from an abridgment, which his work ought to have been, he gives us chronicling, documentary accounts of an immense extent of newly discovered country, and of the extraordinary events that had been passing there,—sometimes too short and slight to be interesting, and sometimes too detailed for the reader’s patience. He was evidently a learned man, and maintained a correspondence with Ramusio, the Italian geographer, which could not fail to be useful to both parties.[907] And he was desirous to write in a good and eloquent style, in which he sometimes succeeded. He has, therefore, on the whole, produced a series of accounts of the natural condition, the aboriginal inhabitants, and the political affairs of the wide-spread Spanish possessions in America, as they stood in the middle of the sixteenth century, which is of great value as a vast repository of facts, and not wholly without merit as a composition.[908]

The other considerable work of Oviedo, the fruit of his old age, is devoted to fond recollections of his native country and of the distinguished men he had known there. He calls it “Las Quinquagenas,” and it consists of a series of dialogues, in which, with little method or order, he gives gossiping accounts of the principal families that figured in Spain during the times of Ferdinand and Isabella and Charles the Fifth, mingled with anecdotes and recollections, such as—not without a simple-hearted exhibition of his own vanity—the memory of his long and busy life could furnish. It appears from the Dialogue on Cardinal Ximenes, and elsewhere, that he was employed on it as early as 1545;[909] but the year 1550 occurs yet more frequently among the dates of its imaginary conversations,[910] and at the conclusion he very distinctly declares that it was finished on the 23d of May, 1556, when he was seventy-nine years old. He died in Valladolid, the next year.

But both during his life and after his death, Oviedo had a formidable adversary, who, pursuing nearly the same course of inquiries respecting the New World, came almost constantly to conclusions quite opposite. This was no less a person than BartolomÉ de las Casas, or Casaus, the apostle and defender of the American Indians,—a man who would have been remarkable in any age of the world, and who does not seem yet to have gathered in the full harvest of his honors. He was born in Seville, probably in 1474; and in 1502, having gone through a course of studies at Salamanca, embarked for the Indies, where his father, who had been there with Columbus nine years earlier, had already accumulated a decent fortune.

The attention of the young man was early drawn to the condition of the natives, from the circumstance, that one of them, given to his father by Columbus, had been attached to his own person as a slave, while he was still at the University; and he was not slow to learn, on his arrival in Hispaniola, that their gentle natures and slight frames had already been subjected, in the mines and in other forms of toil, to a servitude so harsh, that the original inhabitants of the island were beginning to waste away under the severity of their labors. From this moment he devoted his life to their emancipation. In 1510 he took holy orders, and continued as a priest, and for a short time as Bishop of Chiapa, nearly forty years, to teach, strengthen, and console the suffering flock committed to his charge. Six times, at least, he crossed the Atlantic, in order to persuade the government of Charles the Fifth to ameliorate their condition, and always with more or less success. At last, but not until 1547, when he was above seventy years old, he established himself at Valladolid, in Spain, where he passed the remainder of his serene old age, giving it freely to the great cause to which he had devoted the freshness of his youth. He died, while on a visit of business, at Madrid, in 1566, at the advanced age, as is commonly supposed, of ninety-two.[911]

Among the principal opponents of his benevolence were SepÚlveda,—one of the leading men of letters and casuists of the time in Spain,—and Oviedo, who, from his connection with the mines and his share in the government of different parts of the newly discovered countries, had an interest directly opposite to the one Las Casas defended. These two persons, with large means and a wide influence to sustain them, intrigued, wrote, and toiled against him, in every way in their power. But his was not a spirit to be daunted by opposition or deluded by sophistry and intrigue; and when, in 1519, in a discussion with SepÚlveda concerning the Indians, held in the presence of the young and proud Emperor Charles the Fifth, Las Casas said, “It is quite certain, that, speaking with all the respect and reverence due to so great a sovereign, I would not, save in the way of duty and obedience as a subject, go from the place where I now stand to the opposite corner of this room, to serve your Majesty, unless I believed I should at the same time serve God,”[912]—when he said this, he uttered a sentiment that really governed his life and constituted the basis of the great power he exercised. His works are pervaded by it. The earliest of them, called “A very Short Account of the Ruin of the Indies,” was written in 1542,[913] and dedicated to the prince, afterwards Philip the Second;—a tract in which, no doubt, the sufferings and wrongs of the Indians are much overstated by the indignant zeal of its author, but still one whose expositions are founded in truth, and by their fervor awakened all Europe to a sense of the injustice they set forth. Other short treatises followed, written with similar spirit and power, especially those in reply to SepÚlveda; but none was so often reprinted, either at home or abroad, as the first,[914] and none ever produced so deep and solemn an effect on the world. They were all collected and published in 1552; and, besides being translated into other languages at the time, an edition in Spanish, and a French version of the whole, with two more treatises than were contained in the first collection, appeared at Paris in 1822, prepared by Llorente.

The great work of Las Casas, however, still remains inedited,—a General History of the Indies from 1492 to 1520, begun by him in 1527 and finished in 1561, but of which he ordered that no portion should be published within forty years of his death. Like his other works, it shows marks of haste and carelessness, and is written in a rambling style; but its value, notwithstanding his too fervent zeal for the Indians, is great. He had been personally acquainted with many of the early discoverers and conquerors, and, at one time, possessed the papers of Columbus, and a large mass of other important documents, which are now lost. He says he had known CortÉs “when he was so low and humble, that he besought favor from the meanest servant of Diego Velasquez”; and he knew him afterwards, he tells us, when, in his pride of place at the court of the Emperor, he ventured to jest about the pretty corsair’s part he had played in the affairs of Montezuma.[915] He knew, too, Gomara and Oviedo, and gives at large his reasons for differing from them. In short, his book, divided into three parts, is a great repository, to which Herrera, and through him all the historians of the Indies since, have resorted for materials; and without which the history of the earliest period of the Spanish settlements in America cannot, even now, be properly written.[916]

But it is not necessary to go farther into an examination of the old accounts of the discovery and conquest of Spanish America, though there are many more which, like those we have already considered, are partly books of travel through countries full of wonders, partly chronicles of adventures as strange as those of romance; frequently running into idle and loose details, but as frequently fresh, picturesque, and manly in their tone and coloring, and almost always curious from the facts they record and the glimpses they give of manners and character. Among those that might be added are the stories by Vaca of his shipwreck and ten years’ captivity in Florida, from 1527 to 1537, and his subsequent government for three years of the Rio de la Plata;[917] the short account of the conquest of Peru written by Francisco de Xerez,[918] and the ampler one, of the same wild achievements, which Augustin de Çarate began on the spot, and was prevented by an officer of Gonzalo de Pizarro from finishing till after his return home.[919] But they may all be passed over, as of less consequence than those we have noticed, which are quite sufficient to give an idea, both of the nature of their class and the course it followed,—a class much resembling the old chronicles, but yet one that announces the approach of those more regular forms of history for which it furnishes abundant materials.

END OF VOL. I.


FOOTNOTES

[1] August Wilhelm von Schlegel, Ueber Dramatische Kunst, Heidelberg, 1811, 8vo, Vorlesung XIV.

[2] Augustin Thierry has in a few words finely described the fusion of society that originally took place in the northwestern part of Spain, and on which the civilization of the country still rests: “ReserrÉs dans ce coin de terre, devenu pour eux toute la patrie, Goths et Romains, vainqueurs et vaincus, Étrangers et indigÈnes, maÎtres et esclaves, tous unis dans le mÊme malheur, oubliÈrent leurs vieilles haines, leur vieil Éloignement, leurs vieilles distinctions; il n’y eut plus qu’un nom, qu’une loi, qu’un État, qu’un langage; tous furent Égaux dans cet exil.” Dix Ans d’Études Historiques, Paris, 1836, 8vo, p. 346.

[3] Manuel Risco, La Castilla y el mas Famoso Castellano, Madrid, 1792, 4to, pp. 14-18.

[4] Speaking of this decisive battle, and following, as he always does, only Arabic authorities, Conde says, “This fearful rout happened on Monday, the fifteenth day of the month Safer, in the year 609 [A. D. 1212]; and with it fell the power of the Moslems in Spain, for nothing turned out well with them after it.” (Historia de la Dominacion de los Árabes en EspaÑa, Madrid, 1820, 4to, Tom. II. p. 425.) Gayangos, in his more learned and yet more entirely Arabic “Mohammedan Dynasties in Spain,” (London, 1843, 4to, Vol. II. p. 323,) gives a similar account. The purely Spanish historians, of course, state the matter still more strongly;—Mariana, for instance, looking upon the result of the battle as quite superhuman. Historia General de EspaÑa, 14a impresion, Madrid, 1780, fol., Lib. XI. c. 24.

[5] “And in that time,” we are told in the old “CrÓnica General de EspaÑa,” (Zamora, 1541, fol., f. 275,) “was the war of the Moors very grievous; so that the kings, and counts, and nobles, and all the knights that took pride in arms, stabled their horses in the rooms where they slept with their wives; to the end that, when they heard the war-cry, they might find their horses and arms at hand, and mount instantly at its summons.” “A hard and rude training,” says Martinez de la Rosa, in his graceful romance of “Isabel de SolÍs,” recollecting, I suspect, this very passage,—“a hard and rude training, the prelude to so many glories and to the conquest of the world, when our forefathers, weighed down with harness, and their swords always in hand, slept at ease no single night for eight centuries.” DoÑa Isabel de SolÍs, Reyna de Granada, Novela HistÓrica, Madrid, 1839, 8vo, Parte II. c. 15.

[6] See Appendix (A.), on the History of the Spanish Language.

[7] The date of the only early manuscript of the Poem of the Cid is in these words: “Per Abbat le escribio en el mes de Mayo, en Era de Mill È CC..XLV aÑos.” There is a blank made by an erasure between the second C and the X, which has given rise to the question, whether this erasure was made by the copyist because he had accidentally put in a letter too much, or whether it is a subsequent erasure that ought to be filled,—and, if filled, whether with the conjunction È or with another C; in short, the question is, whether this manuscript should be dated in 1245 or in 1345. (Sanchez, PoesÍas Anteriores, Madrid, 1779, 8vo, Tom. I. p. 221.) This year, 1245, of the Spanish era, according to which the calculation of time is commonly kept in the elder Spanish records, corresponds to our A. D. 1207;—a difference of 38 years, the reason for which may be found in a note to Southey’s “Chronicle of the Cid,” (London, 1808, 4to, p. 385,) without seeking it in more learned sources.

The date of the poem itself, however, is a very different question from the date of this particular manuscript of it; for the Per Abbat referred to is merely the copyist, whether his name was Peter Abbat or Peter the Abbot, (Risco, Castilla, etc., p. 68.) This question—the one, I mean, of the age of the poem itself—can be settled only from internal evidence of style and language. Two passages, vv. 3014 and 3735, have, indeed, been alleged (Risco, p. 69, Southey’s Chronicle, p. 282, note) to prove its date historically; but, after all, they only show that it was written subsequently to A. D. 1135. (V. A. Huber, Geschichte des Cid, Bremen, 1829, 12mo, p. xxix.) The point is one difficult to settle; and none can be consulted about it but natives or experts. Of these, Sanchez places it at about 1150, or half a century after the death of the Cid, (PoesÍas Anteriores, Tom. I. p. 223,) and Capmany (Eloquencia EspaÑola, Madrid, 1786, 8vo, Tom. I. p. 1) follows him. Marina, whose opinion is of great weight, (Memorias de la Academia de Historia, Tom. IV. 1805, Ensayo, p. 34,) places it thirty or forty years before Berceo, who wrote 1220-1240. The editors of the Spanish translation of Bouterwek, (Madrid, 1829, 8vo, Tom. I. p. 112,) who give a fac-simile of the manuscript, agree with Sanchez, and so does Huber (Gesch. des Cid, Vorwort, p. xxvii.). To these opinions may be added that of Ferdinand Wolf, of Vienna, (JahrbÜcher der Literatur, Wien, 1831, Band LVI. p. 251,) who, like Huber, is one of the acutest scholars alive in whatever touches Spanish and MediÆval literature, and who places it about 1140-1160. Many other opinions might be cited, for the subject has been much discussed; but the judgments of the learned men already given, formed at different times in the course of half a century from the period of the first publication of the poem, and concurring so nearly, leave no reasonable doubt that it was composed as early as the year 1200.

Mr. Southey’s name, introduced by me in this note, is one that must always be mentioned with peculiar respect by scholars interested in Spanish literature. From the circumstance, that his uncle, the Rev. Herbert Hill, a scholar, and a careful and industrious one, was connected with the English Factory at Lisbon, Mr. Southey visited Spain and Portugal in 1795-6, when he was about twenty-two years old, and, on his return home, published his Travels, in 1797;—a pleasant book, written in the clear, idiomatic, picturesque English that always distinguishes his style, and containing a considerable number of translations from the Spanish and the Portuguese, made with freedom and spirit rather than with great exactness. From this time he never lost sight of Spain and Portugal, or of Spanish and Portuguese literature; as is shown, not only by several of his larger original works, but by his translations, and by his articles in the London Quarterly Review on Lope de Vega and Camoens; especially by one in the second volume of that journal, which was translated into Portuguese, with notes, by MÜller, Secretary of the Academy of Sciences at Lisbon, and so made into an excellent compact manual for Portuguese literary history.

[8] The Arabic accounts represent the Cid as having died of grief, at the defeat of the Christians near Valencia, which fell again into the hands of the Moslem in 1100. (Gayangos, Mohammedan Dynasties, Vol. II. Appendix, p. xliii.) It is necessary to read some one of the many Lives of the Cid in order to understand the Poema del Cid, and much else of Spanish literature; I will therefore notice four or five of the more suitable and important. 1. The oldest is the Latin “Historia Didaci Campidocti,” written before 1238, and published as an Appendix in Risco. 2. The next is the cumbrous and credulous one by Father Risco, 1792. 3. Then we have a curious one by John von MÜller, the historian of Switzerland, 1805, prefixed to his friend Herder’s Ballads of the Cid. 4. The classical Life by Manuel Josef Quintana, in the first volume of his “Vidas de EspaÑoles CÉlebres” (Madrid, 1807, 12mo). 5. That of Huber, 1829; acute and safe. The best of all, however, is the old Spanish “Chronicle of the Cid,” or Southey’s Chronicle, 1808;—the best, I mean, for those who read in order to enjoy what may be called the literature of the Cid;—to which may be added a pleasant little volume by George Dennis, entitled “The Cid, a Short Chronicle founded on the Early Poetry of Spain,” London, 1845, 12mo.

[9] ChrÓnica del Cid, Burgos, 1593, fol., c. 19.

[10] Huber, p. 96. MÜller’s Leben des Cid, in Herder’s SÄmmtliche Werke, zur schÖnen Literatur und Kunst, Wien, 1813, 12mo, Theil III. p. xxi.

[11] “No period of Spanish history is so deficient in contemporary documents.” Huber, Vorwort, p. xiii.

[12] It is amusing to compare the Moorish accounts of the Cid with the Christian. In the work of Conde on the Arabs of Spain, which is little more than a translation from Arabic chronicles, the Cid appears first, I think, in the year 1087, when he is called “the Cambitur [Campeador] who infested the frontiers of Valencia.” (Tom. II. p. 155.) When he had taken Valencia, in 1094, we are told, “Then the Cambitur—may he be accursed of Allah!—entered in with all his people and allies.” (Tom. II. p. 183.) In other places he is called “Roderic the Cambitur,”—“Roderic, Chief of the Christians, known as the Cambitur,”—and “the Accursed”;—all proving how thoroughly he was hated and feared by his enemies. He is nowhere, I think, called Cid or Seid by Arab writers; and the reason why he appears in Conde’s work so little is, probably, that the manuscripts used by that writer relate chiefly to the history of events in Andalusia and Granada, where the Cid did not figure at all. The tone in Gayangos’s more learned and accurate work on the Mohammedan Dynasties is the same. When the Cid dies, the Arab chronicler (Vol. II. App., p. xliii.) adds, “May God not show him mercy!”

[13] This is the opinion of John von MÜller and of Southey, the latter of whom says, in the Preface to his Chronicle, (p. xi.,) “The poem is to be considered as metrical history, not as metrical romance.” But Huber, in the excellent Vorwort to his Geschichte, (p. xxvi.,) shows this to be a mistake; and in the introduction to his edition of the Chronicle, (Marburg, 1844, 8vo, p. xlii.,) shows further, that the poem was certainly not taken from the old Latin Life, which is the proper foundation for what is historical in our account of the Cid.

[14] Mariana is much troubled about the history of the Cid, and decides nothing (Historia, Lib. X. c. 4);—Sandoval controverts much, and entirely denies the story of the Counts of Carrion (Reyes de Castilla, Pamplona, 1615, fol., f. 54);—and Ferreras (Synopsis HistÓrica, Madrid, 1775, 4to, Tom. V. pp. 196-198) endeavours to settle what is true and what is fabulous, and agrees with Sandoval about the marriage of the daughters of the Cid with the Counts. Southey (Chronicle, pp. 310-312) argues both sides, and shows his desire to believe the story, but does not absolutely succeed in doing so.

[15] The poem was originally published by Sanchez, in the first volume of his valuable “PoesÍas Castellanas Anteriores al Siglo XV.” (Madrid, 1779-90, 4 tom., 8vo; reprinted by Ochoa, Paris, 1842, 8vo.) It contains three thousand seven hundred and forty-four lines, and, if the deficiencies in the manuscript were supplied, Sanchez thinks the whole would come up to about four thousand lines. But he saw a copy made in 1596, which, though not entirely faithful, showed that the older manuscript had the same deficiencies then that it has now. Of course, there is little chance that they will ever be supplied.

[16] I would instance the following lines on the famine in Valencia during its Siege by the Cid:—

Mal se aquexan los de Valencia · que non sabent ques’ far;

De ninguna part que sea · no les viene pan;

Nin da consejo padre À fijo, · nin fijo À padre:

Nin amigo À amigo nos · pueden consolar.

Mala cuenta es, SeÑores, · aver mengua de pan,

Fijos e mugieres verlo · morir de fambre.

vv. 1183-1188.

Valencian men doubt what to do, · and bitterly complain,

That, wheresoe’er they look for bread, · they look for it in vain.

No father help can give his child, · no son can help his sire,

Nor friend to friend assistance lend, · or cheerfulness inspire.

A grievous story, Sirs, it is, · when fails the needed bread,

And women fair and children young · in hunger join the dead.

From the use of SeÑores, “Sirs,” in this passage, as well as from other lines, like v. 734 and v. 2291, I have thought the poem was either originally addressed to some particular persons, or was intended—which is most in accordance with the spirit of the age—to be recited publicly.

[17] For example:—

Ferran Gonzalez non viÓ alli dos’ alzase · nin camara abierta nin torre.—v. 2296.

Feme ante vos yo · È vuestras fijas,

Infantes son È · de dias chicas.—vv. 268, 269.

Some of the irregularities of the versification may be owing to the copyist, as we have but one manuscript to depend upon; but they are too grave and too abundant to be charged, on the whole, to any account but that of the original author.

[18] Some of the lines of this passage in the original (vv. 723, etc.) may be cited, to show that gravity and dignity were among the prominent attribute of the Spanish language from its first appearance.

Embrazan los escudos · delant los corazones,

Abaxan las lanzas apuestas · de los pendones,

Enclinaron las caras · de suso de los arzones,

Iban los ferir · de fuertes corazones,

A grandes voces lama · el que en buen ora nasceÒ:

“Ferid los, cavalleros, por · amor de caridad,

Yo soy Ruy Diaz el Cid · Campeador de Bibar,” etc.

[19] This and the two following translations were made by Mr. J. Hookham Frere, one of the most accomplished scholars England has produced, and one whom Sir James Mackintosh has pronounced to be the first of English translators. He was, for some years, British Minister in Spain, and, by a conjectural emendation which he made of a line in this very poem, known only to himself and the Marquis de la Romana, was able to accredit a secret agent to the latter in 1808, when he was commanding a body of Spanish troops in the French service on the soil of Denmark;—a circumstance that led to one of the most important movements in the war against Bonaparte. (Southey’s History of the Peninsular War, London, 1823, 4to, Tom. I. p. 657.) The admirable translations of Mr. Frere from the Poem of the Cid, are to be found in the Appendix to Southey’s Chronicle of the Cid; itself an entertaining book, made out of free versions and compositions from the Spanish Poem of the Cid, the old ballads, the prose Chronicle of the Cid, and the General Chronicle of Spain. Mr. Wm. Godwin, in a somewhat singular “Letter of Advice to a Young American on a Course of Studies,” (London, 1818, 8vo,) commends it justly as one of the books best calculated to give an idea of the age of chivalry.

It is proper I should add here, that, except in this case of the Poem of the Cid, where I am indebted to Mr. Frere for the passages in the text, and in the case of the Coplas of Manrique, (Chap. 21 of this Period,) where I am indebted to the beautiful version of Mr. Longfellow, the translations in these volumes are made by myself.

[20] This division, and some others less distinctly marked, have led Tapia (Historia de la CivilizaciÓn de EspaÑa, Madrid, 1840, 12mo, Tom. I. p. 268) to think, that the whole poem is but a congeries of ballads, as the Iliad has sometimes been thought to be, and, as there is little doubt, the Nibelungenlied really is. But such breaks occur so frequently in different parts of it, and seem so generally to be made for other reasons, that this conjecture is not probable. (Huber, ChrÓnica del Cid, p. xl.) Besides, the whole poem more resembles the Chansons de Geste of old French poetry, and is more artificial in its structure, than the nature of the ballad permits.

[21]

Asur Gonzalez entraba · por el palacio;

Manto armino È un · Brial rastrando:

Bermeio viene, · ca era almorzado.

En lo que fablÓ · avie poco recabdo.

“Hya varones, quien · viÓ nunca tal mal?

Quien nos darie nuevas · de Mio Cid, el de Bibar?

Fues’ Á Riodouirna · los molinos picar,

E prender maquilas · como lo suele far’:

Quil’ darie con los · de Carrion a casar’?”

Esora Muno Gustioz · en pie se levantÓ:

“Cala, alevoso, · malo, È traydor:

Antes almuerzas, · que bayas À oracion:

A los que das paz, · fartas los aderredor.

Non dices verdad · amigo ni À SeÑor,

Falso À todos · È mas al Criador.

En tu amistad non · quiero aver racion.

Facertelo decir, que · tal eres qual digo yo.”

Sanchez. Tom. I., p. 359.

This passage, with what precedes and what follows it, may be compared with the challenge in Shakspeare’s “Richard II.,” Act IV.

[22]

Los Fieles È el rey · enseÑaron los moiones.

Librabanse del campo · todos aderredor:

Bien gelo demostraron · À todos seis como son,

Que por y serie vencido · qui saliese del moion.

Todas las yentes · esconbraron aderredor

De seis astas de lanzas · que non legasen al moion.

Sorteabanles el campo, · ya les partien el sol:

Salien los Fieles de medio, · ellos cara por cara son.

Desi vinien los de Mio Cid · À los Infantes de Carrion,

Ellos Infantes de Carrion · À los del Campeador.

Cada uno dellos mientes · tiene al so.

Abrazan los escudos · delant’ los corazones:

Abaxan las lanzas · abueltas con los pendones:

Enclinaban las caras · sobre los arzones:

Batien los cavallos · con los espolones:

Tembrar querie la tierra · dod eran movedores.

Cada uno dellos mientes · tiene al sÓ.

Sanchez, Tom. I. p. 368.

A parallel passage from Chaucer’s “Knight’s Tale”—the combat between Palamon and Arcite (Tyrwhitt’s edit., v. 2601)—should not be overlooked.

“The heraudes left hir priking up and down,

Now ringen trompes loud and clarioun,

There is no more to say, but est and west,

In gon the speres sadly in the rest;

In goth the sharpe spore into the side:

Ther see men who can just and who can ride.”

And so on twenty lines farther, both in the English and the Spanish. But it should be borne in mind, when comparing them, that the Poem of the Cid was written two centuries earlier than the “Canterbury Tales” were.

[23] The change of opinion in relation to the Poema del Cid, and the different estimates of its value, are remarkable circumstances in its history. Bouterwek speaks of it very slightingly,—probably from following Sarmiento, who had not read it,—and the Spanish translators of Bouterwek almost agree with him. F. v. Schlegel, however, Sismondi, Huber, Wolf, and nearly or quite all who have spoken of it of late, express a strong admiration of its merits. There is, I think, truth in the remark of Southey (Quarterly Review, 1814, Vol. XII. p. 64): “The Spaniards have not yet discovered the high value of their metrical history of the Cid, as a poem; they will never produce any thing great in the higher branches of art, till they have cast off the false taste which prevents them from perceiving it.”

Of all poems belonging to the early ages of any modern nation, the one that can best be compared with the Poem of the Cid is the Nibelungenlied, which, according to the most judicious among the German critics, dates, in its present form at least, about half a century after the time assigned to the Poem of the Cid. A parallel might easily be run between them, that would be curious.

In the JahrbÜcher der Literatur, Wien, 1846, Band CXVI., M. Francisque Michel, the scholar to whom the literature of the Middle Ages owes so much, published, for the first time, what remains of an old poetical Spanish chronicle,—“ChrÓnica Rimada de las Cosas de EspaÑa,”—on the history of Spain from the death of Pelayo to Ferdinand the Great;—the same poem that is noticed in Ochoa, “CatÁlogo de Manuscritos,” (Paris, 1844, 4to, pp. 106-110,) and in Huber’s edition of the Chronicle of the Cid, Preface, App. E.

It is a curious, though not important, contribution to our resources in early Spanish literature, and one that immediately reminds us of the old Poem of the Cid. It begins with a prose introduction on the state of affairs down to the time of Fernan Gonzalez, compressed into a single page, and then goes on through eleven hundred and twenty-six lines of verse, when it breaks off abruptly in the middle of a line, as if the copyist had been interrupted, but with no sign that the work was drawing to an end. Nearly the whole of it is taken up with the history of the Cid, his family and his adventures, which are sometimes different from those in the old ballads and chronicles. Thus, Ximena is represented as having three brothers, who are taken prisoners by the Moors and released by the Cid; and the Cid is made to marry Ximena, by the royal command, against his own will; after which he goes to Paris, in the days of the Twelve Peers, and performs feats like those in the romances of chivalry. This, of course, is all new. But the old stories are altered and amplified, like those of the Cid’s charity to the leper, which is given with a more picturesque air, and of Ximena and the king, and of the Cid and his father, which are partly thrown into dialogue, not without dramatic effect. The whole is a free version of the old traditions of the country, apparently made in the fifteenth century, after the fictions of chivalry began to be known, and with the intention of giving the Cid rank among their heroes.

The measure is that of the long verses used in the older Spanish poetry, with a cÆsural pause near the middle of each, and the termination of the lines is in the asonante a-o.[*] But in all this there is great irregularity;—many of the verses running out to twenty or more syllables, and several passages failing to observe the proper asonante. Every thing indicates that the old ballads were familiar to the author, and from one passage I infer that he knew the old poem of the Cid:—

Veredes lidiar a porfia · e tan firme se dar,

Atantos pendones obrados · alÇar e abaxar,

Atantas lanÇas quebradas · por el primor quebrar,

Atantos cavallos caer · e non se levantar,

Atanto cavallo sin dueÑo · por el campo andar.

vv. 895-899.

The preceding lines seem imitated from the Cid’s fight before Alcocer, in such a way as to leave no doubt that its author had seen the old poem:—

Veriedes tantas lanzas · premer È alzar;

Tanta adarga À · foradar È pasar;

Tanta loriga falsa · desmanchar;

Tantos pendones blancos · salir bermeios en sangre;

Tantos buenos cavallos · sin sos duenos andar.

vv. 734-738.

[*] For the meaning of asonante, and an explanation of asonante verse, see Chap. VI. and the notes to it.

[24] The only knowledge of the manuscript containing these three poems was long derived from a few extracts in the “Biblioteca EspaÑola” of Rodriguez de Castro;—an important work, whose author was born in Galicia, in 1739, and died at Madrid, in 1799. The first volume, printed in 1781, in folio, under the patronage of the Count Florida Blanca, consists of a chronological account of the Rabbinical writers who appeared in Spain from the earliest times to his own, whether they wrote in Hebrew, Spanish, or any other language. The second, printed in 1786, consists of a similar account of the Spanish writers, heathen and Christian, who wrote either in Latin or in Spanish down to the end of the thirteenth century, and whose number he makes about two hundred. Both volumes are somewhat inartifically compiled, and the literary opinions they express are of small value; but their materials, largely derived from manuscripts, are curious, and frequently such as can be found in print nowhere else.

In this work, (Madrid, 1786, fol., Vol. II. pp. 504, 505,) and for a long time, as I have said, there alone, were found notices of these poems; but all of them were printed at the end of the Paris edition of Sanchez’s “Coleccion de PoesÍas Anteriores al Siglo XV.,” from a copy of the original manuscript in the Escurial, marked there III. K. 4to. Judging by the specimens given in De Castro, the spelling of the manuscript has not been carefully followed in the copy used for the Paris edition.

[25] The story of Apollonius, Prince of Tyre, as it is commonly called, and as we have its incidents in this long poem, is the 153d tale of the “Gesta Romanorum” (s. l., 1488, fol.). It is, however, much older than that collection. (Douce, Illustrations of Shakspeare, London, 1807, 8vo, Vol. II. p. 135; and Swan’s translation of the Gesta, London, 1824, 12mo, Vol. II. pp. 164-495.) Two words in the original Spanish of the passage translated in the text should be explained. The author says,—

Estudiar querria

Componer un romance de nueva maestrÍa.

Romance here evidently means story, and this is the earliest use of the word in this sense that I know of. MaestrÍa, like our old English Maisterie, means art or skill, as in Chaucer, being the word afterwards corrupted into Mystery.

[26] St. Mary of Egypt was a saint of great repute in Spain and Portugal, and had her adventures written by Pedro de Ribadeneyra in 1609, and Diogo Vas Carrillo in 1673; they were also fully given in the “Flos Sanctorum” of the former, and, in a more attractive form, by BartolomÉ Cayrasco de Figueroa, at the end of his “Templo Militante,” (Valladolid, 1602, 12mo,) where they fill about 130 flowing octave stanzas, and by Montalvan, in the drama of “La Gitana de Menfis.” She has, too, a church dedicated to her at Rome on the bank of the Tiber, made out of the graceful ruins of the temple of Fortuna Virilis. But her coarse history has often been rejected as apocryphal, or at least as unfit to be repeated. Bayle, Dictionaire Historique et Critique, Amsterdam, 1740, fol., Tom. III. pp. 334-336.

[27] Both of the last poems in this MS. were first printed by Pidal in the Revista de Madrid, 1841, and, as it would seem, from bad copies. At least, they contain many more inaccuracies of spelling, versification, and style than the first, and appear to be of a later age; for I do not think the French Fabliaux, which they imitate, were known in Spain till after the period commonly assigned to the Apollonius.

[28] It is in Sta. Oria, st. 2.

Quiero en mi vegez, maguer so ya cansado,

De esta santa Virgen romanzar su dictado.

[29] Sanchez, PoesÍas Anteriores, Tom. II. p. iv.; Tom. III. pp. xliv.-lvi. As Berceo was ordained Deacon in 1221, he must have been born as early as 1198, since deacon’s orders were not taken before the age of twenty-three. See some curious remarks on the subject of Berceo in the “Examen CrÍtico del Tomo Primero de el Anti-Quixote,” (Madrid, 1806, 12mo, pp. 22 et seq.,) an anonymous pamphlet, written, I believe, by Pellicer, the editor of Don Quixote.

[30] The second volume of Sanchez’s PoesÍas Anteriores.

[31] The metrical form adopted by Berceo, which he himself calls the quaderna via, and which is in fact that of the poem of Apollonius, should be particularly noticed, because it continued to be a favorite one in Spain for above two centuries. The following stanzas, which are among the best in Berceo, may serve as a favorable specimen of its character. They are from the “Signs of the Judgment,” Sanchez, Tom. II. p. 274.

Esti sera el uno · de los signos dubdados:

Subira a los nubes · el mar muchos estados,

Mas alto que las sierras · È mas que los collados,

Tanto que en sequero · fincaran los pescados.

Las aves esso mesmo · menudas È granadas

Andaran dando gritos · todas mal espantadas;

Assi faran las bestias · por domar È domadas,

Non podran À la noche · tornar À sus posadas.

And this shall be one of the signs · that fill with doubts and fright:

The sea its waves shall gather up, · and lift them, in its might,

Up to the clouds, and far above · the dark sierra’s height,

Leaving the fishes on dry land, · a strange and fearful sight.

The birds besides that fill the air, · the birds both small and great,

Shall screaming fly and wheel about, · scared by their coming fate;

And quadrupeds, both those we tame · and those in untamed state,

Shall wander round nor shelter find · where safe they wonned of late.

There was, no doubt, difficulty in such a protracted system of rhyme, but not much; and when rhyme first appeared in the modern languages, an excess of it was the natural consequence of its novelty. In large portions of the ProvenÇal poetry, its abundance is quite ridiculous; as in the “Croisade contre les HÉrÉtiques Albigeois,”—a remarkable poem, dating from 1210, excellently edited by M. C. Fauriel, (Paris, 1837, 4to,)—in which stanzas occur where the same rhyme is repeated above a hundred times. When and where this quaternion rhyme, as it is used by Berceo, was first introduced, cannot be determined; but it seems to have been very early employed in poems that were to be publicly recited. (F. Wolf, Ueber die Lais, Wien. 1841, 8vo, p. 257.) The oldest example I know of it, in a modern dialect, dates from about 1100, and is found in the curious MS. of Poetry of the Waldenses (F. Diez, Troubadours, Zwickau, 1826, 8vo, p. 230) used by Raynouard;—the instance to which I refer being “Lo novel Confort,” (PoÉsies des Troubadours, Paris, 1817, 8vo, Tom. II. p. 111,) which begins,—

Aquest novel confort de vertuos lavor

Mando, vos scrivent en carita et en amor:

Prego vos carament per l’amor del segnor,

Abandona lo segle, serve a Dio cum temor.

In Spain, whither it no doubt came from Provence, its history is simply,—that it occurs in the poem of Apollonius; that it gets its first known date in Berceo about 1230; and that it continued in use till the end of the fourteenth century.

The thirteen thousand verses of Berceo’s poetry, including even the Hymns, are, with the exception of about twenty lines of the “Duelo de la VÍrgen,” in this measure. These twenty lines constitute a song of the Jews who watched the sepulchre after the crucifixion, and, like the parts of the demons in the old Mysteries, are intended to be droll, but are, in fact, as Berceo himself says of them, more truly than perhaps he was aware, “not worth three figs.” They are, however, of some consequence, as perhaps the earliest specimen of Spanish lyrical poetry that has come down to us with a date. They begin thus:—

Velat, aliama de los Judios,

Eya velar!

Que no vos furten el fijo de Dios,

Eya velar!

Car furtarvoslo querran,

Eya velar!

Andre È Piedro et Johan,

Eya velar!

Duelo, 178-9.

Watch, congregation of the Jew,

Up and watch!

Lest they should steal God’s son from you,

Up and watch!

For they will seek to steal the son,

Up and watch!

His followers, Andrew, and Peter, and John,

Up and watch!

Sanchez considers it a Villancico, to be sung like a litany (Tom. IV. p. ix.); and Martinez de la Rosa treats it much in the same way. Obras, Paris, 1827, 12mo, Tom. I. p. 161.

In general, the versification of Berceo is regular,—sometimes it is harmonious; and though he now and then indulges himself in imperfect rhymes, that may be the beginning of the national asonantes (Sanchez, Tom. II. p. xv.) still the license he takes is much less than might be anticipated. Indeed, Sanchez represents the harmony and finish of his versification as quite surprising, and uses stronger language in relation to it than seems justifiable, considering some of the facts he admits. Tom. II. p. xi.

[32] San Domingo de Silos, st. 1 and 2. The Saviour, according to the fashion of the age, is called, in v. 2, Don Jesu Christo,—the word then being synonymous with Dominus. See a curious note on its use, in Don Quixote, ed. Clemencin, Madrid, 1836, 4to, Tom. V. p. 408.

[33]

Amigos È vasallos de · Dios omnipotent,

Si vos me escuchasedes · por vuestro consiment,

Querriavos contar un · buen aveniment:

TerrÉdeslo en cabo por · bueno verament.

Yo Maestro Gonzalvo de · Berceo nomnado

Iendo en Romeria · caeci en un prado,

Verde È bien sencido, · de flores bien poblado,

Logar cobdiciaduero · pora ome cansado.

Daban olor sobeio · las flores bien olientes,

Refrescaban en ome · las caras È las mientes,

Manaban cada canto · fuentes claras corrientes,

En verano bien frias, · en yvierno calientes.

Avie hy grand abondo · de buenas arboledas,

Milgranos È figueras, · peros È mazanedas,

E muchas otras fructas · de diversas monedas;

Mas non avie ningunas · podridas nin acedas.

La verdura del prado, · la olor de las flores,

Las sombras de los arbores · de temprados sabores

Refrescaronme todo, · È perdi los sudores:

Podrie vevir el ome · con aquellos olores.

Sanchez, Tom. II. p. 285.

[34] A good account of this part of Berceo’s works, though, I think, somewhat too severe, is to be found in Dr. Dunham’s “History of Spain and Portugal,” (London, 1832, 18mo, Tom. IV. pp. 215-229,) a work of merit, the early part of which, as in the case of Berceo, rests more frequently than might be expected on original authorities. Excellent translations will be found in Prof. Longfellow’s Introductory Essay to his version of the Coplas de Manrique, Boston, 1833, 12mo, pp. 5 and 10.

[35] For example, when the Madonna is represented looking at the cross, and addressing her expiring son:—

Fiio, siempre oviemos · io È tu una vida;

Io À ti quisi mucho, · È fui de ti querida;

Io sempre te crey, · È fui de ti creida;

La tu piedad larga · ahora me oblida?

Fiio, non me oblides · È lievame contigo,

Non me finca en sieglo · mas de un buen amigo;

Juan quem dist por fiio · aqui plora conmigo:

Ruegote quem condones · esto que io te digo.

St. 78, 79.

I read these stanzas with a feeling akin to that with which I should look at a picture on the same subject by Perugino. They may be translated thus:—

My son, in thee and me · life still was felt as one;

I loved thee much, and thou lovedst me · in perfectness, my son;

My faith in thee was sure, · and I thy faith had won;

And doth thy large and pitying love · forget me now, my son?

My son, forget me not, · but take my soul with thine;

The earth holds but one heart · that kindred is with mine,—

John, whom thou gavest to be my child, · who here with me doth pine;

I pray thee, then, that to my prayer · thou graciously incline.

[36] Mariana, Hist., Lib. XII. c. 15, ad fin.

[37] Diez, Poesie der Troubadours, pp. 75, 226, 227, 331-350. A long poem on the influence of the stars was addressed to Alfonso by Nat de Mons (Raynouard, Troub., Tom. V. p. 269); and besides the curious poem addressed to him by Giraud Riquier of Narbonne, in 1275, given by Diez, we know that in another poem this distinguished Troubadour mourned the king’s death. Raynouard, Tom. V. p. 171. Millot, Histoire des Troubadours, Paris, 1774, 12mo, Tom. III. pp. 329-374.

[38] Historia, Lib. XIII. c. 20. The less favorable side of Alfonso’s character is given by the cynical Bayle, Art., Castile.

[39] This letter, which the Spanish Academy calls “inimitable,” though early known in MS., seems to have been first printed by Ortiz de ZuÑiga (Anales de Sevilla, Sevilla, 1677, fol., p. 124). Several old ballads have been made out of it, one of which is to be found in the “Cancionero de Romances,” por LorenÇo de SepÚlveda (Sevilla, 1584, 18mo, f. 104). The letter is found in the preface to the Academy’s edition of the Partidas, and is explained by the accounts in Mariana, (Hist., Lib. XIV. c. 5,) Conde, (Dominacion de los Árabes, Tom. III. p. 69,) and Mondejar (Memorias, Lib. VI. c. 14). The original is said to be in the possession of the Duke of Medina-Sidonia. Semanario Pintoresco, 1845, p. 303.

[40] A race of African princes, who reigned in Morocco, and subjected all Western Africa. CrÓnica de Alfonso XI., Valladolid, 1551, fol., c. 219. Gayangos, Mohammedan Dynasties, Vol. II. p. 325.

[41] Alonzo Perez de Guzman, of the great family of that name, the person to whom this remarkable letter is addressed, went over to Africa in 1276, with many knights, to serve Aben Jusaf against his rebellious subjects, stipulating that he should not be required to serve against Christians. Ortiz de ZuÑiga, Anales, p. 113.

[42] The principal life of Alfonso X. is that by the Marquis of Mondejar (Madrid, 1777, fol.); but it did not receive its author’s final revision, and is an imperfect work. (PrÓlogo de CerdÁ y Rico; and Baena, Hijos de Madrid, Madrid, 1790, 4to, Tom. II. pp. 304-312.) For the part of Alfonso’s life devoted to letters, ample materials are to be found in Castro, (Biblioteca EspaÑola, Tom. II. pp. 625-688,) and in the Repertorio Americano (LÓndres, 1827, Tom. III. pp. 67-77); where there is a valuable paper, written, I believe, by SalvÁ, who published that journal.

[43] The works attributed to Alfonso are:—In Prose: 1. CrÓnica General de EspaÑa, to be noticed hereafter. 2. A Universal History, containing an abstract of the history of the Jews. 3. A Translation of the Bible. 4. El Libro del Tesoro, a work on general philosophy; but Sarmiento, in a MS. which I possess, says that this is a translation of the Tesoro of Brunetto Latini, Dante’s master, and that it was not made by order of Alfonso; adding, however, that he has seen a book entitled “Flores de FilosofÍa,” which professes to have been compiled by this king’s command, and may be the work here intended. 5. The TÁbulas Alfonsinas, or Astronomical Tables. 6. Historia de todo el Suceso de Ultramar, to be noticed presently. 7. El EspÉculo Ó Espejo de todos los Derechos; El Fuero Real, and other laws published in the OpÚsculos Legales del Rey Alfonso el Sabio (ed. de la Real Academia de Historia, Madrid, 1836, 2 tom., fol.). 8. Las Siete Partidas.—In Verse: 1. Another Tesoro. 2. Las CÁntigas. 3. Two stanzas of the Querellas. Several of these works, like the Universal History and the Ultramar, were, as we know, only compiled by his order, and in others he must have been much assisted. But the whole mass shows how wide were his views, and how great must have been his influence on the language, the literature, and the intellectual progress of his country.

[44] Castro, Biblioteca, Tom. II. p. 632, where he speaks of the MS. of the CÁntigas in the Escurial. The one at Toledo, which contains only a hundred, is the MS. of which a fac-simile is given in the “PaleographÍa EspaÑola,” (Madrid, 1758, 4to, p. 72,) and in the notes to the Spanish translation of Bouterwek’s History (p. 129). Large extracts from the CÁntigas are found in Castro, (Tom. II. pp. 361, 362, and pp. 631-643,) and in the “Nobleza del Andaluzia” de Argote de Molina, (Sevilla, 1588, fol., f. 151,) followed by a curious notice of the king, in Chap. 19, and a poem in his honor.

[45] Mondejar, Memorias, p. 438.

[46] Mondejar, Mem., p. 434. His body, however, was in fact buried at Seville, and his heart, which he had desired should be sent to Palestine, at Murcia, because, as he says in his testament, “Murcia was the first place which it pleased God I should gain in the service and to the honor of King Ferdinand.” Laborde saw his monument there. ItinÉraire de l’Espagne, Paris, 1809, 8vo, Tom. II. p. 185.

[47] J. P. Ribeiro, DissertaÇoes, etc., publicadas per Órdem da Academia Real das Sciencias de Lisboa, Lisboa, 1810, 8vo, Tom. I. p. 180. A glossary of French words occurring in the Portuguese, by Francisco de San Luiz, is in the Memorias da Academia Real de Sciencias, Lisboa, 1816, Tom. IV. Parte II. Viterbo (Elucidario, Lisboa, 1798, fol., Tom. I., Advert. Preliminar., pp. viii.-xiii.) also examines this point.

[48] PaleographÍa EspaÑola, p. 10.

[49] A. Ribeiro dos Santos, OrÍgem, etc., da PoesÍa Portugueza, in Memorias da Lett. Portugueza, pela Academia, etc., 1812, Tom. VIII. pp. 248-250.

[50] J. P. Ribeiro, Diss., Tom. I. p. 176. It is possible the document in App., pp. 273-275, is older, as it appears to be from the time of Sancho I., or 1185-1211; but the next document (p. 275) is dated “Era 1230,” which is A. D. 1192, and is, therefore, the oldest with a date.

[51] Europa Portugueza, Lisboa, 1680, fol., Tom. III. Parte IV. c. 9; and Diez, Grammatik der Romanischen Sprachen, Bonn, 1836, 8vo, Tom. I. p. 72.

[52] Bibl. EspaÑola, Tom. II. pp. 404, 405.

[53] Sanchez, Tom. I., PrÓl., p. lvii.

[54] After quoting the passage of Santillana just referred to, Sarmiento, who was very learned in all that relates to the earliest Spanish verse, says, with a simplicity quite delightful, “I, as a Galician, interested in this conclusion, should be glad to possess the grounds of the Marquis of Santillana; but I have not seen a single word of any author that can throw light on the matter.” Memorias de la PoesÍa y Poetas EspaÑoles, Madrid, 1775, 4to, p. 196.

[55]

Que tolleu

A Mouros Neul e Xeres,

he says (Castro, Tom. II. p. 637); and Xerez was taken in 1263. But all these CÁntigas were not, probably, written in one period of the king’s life.

[56] Ortiz de ZuÑiga, Anales, p. 129.

[57] Take the following as a specimen. Alfonso beseeches the Madonna rather to look at her merits than at his own claims, and runs through five stanzas, with the choral echo to each, “Saint Mary, remember me!”

Non catedes como

Pequei assas,

Mais catad o gran

Ben que en vos ias;

Ca uos me fesestes

Como quen fas

Sa cousa quita

Toda per assi.

Santa Maria! nenbre uos de mi!

Non catedes a como

Pequey greu,

Mais catad o gran ben

Que uos Deus deu;

Ca outro ben se non

Uos non ei eu

Nen ouue nunca

Des quando naci.

Santa Maria! nenbre uos de mi!

Castro, Bibl., Tom. II. p. 640.

This has, no doubt, a very ProvenÇal air; but others of the CÁntigas have still more of it. The ProvenÇal poets, in fact, as we shall see more fully hereafter, fled in considerable numbers into Spain at the period of their persecution at home; and that period corresponds to the reigns of Alfonso and his father. In this way a strong tinge of the ProvenÇal character came into the poetry of Castile, and remained there a long time. The proofs of this early intercourse with ProvenÇal poets are abundant. AimÉric de Bellinoi was at the court of Alfonso IX., who died in 1214, (Histoire LittÉraire de la France, par des Membres de l’Institut, Paris, 4to, Tom. XIX. 1838, p. 507,) and was afterwards at the court of Alfonso X. (Ibid., p. 511.) So were Montagnagout, and Folquet de Lunel, both of whom wrote poems on the election of Alfonso X. to the throne of Germany. (Ibid., Tom. XIX. p. 491, and Tom. XX. p. 557; with Raynouard, Troubadours, Tom. IV. p. 239.) Raimond de Tours and Nat de Mons addressed verses to Alfonso X. (Ibid., Tom. XIX. pp. 555, 577.) Bertrand Carbonel dedicated his works to him; and Giraud Riquier, sometimes called the last of the Troubadours, wrote an elegy on his death, already referred to. (Ibid., Tom. XX. pp. 559, 578, 584.) Others might be cited, but these are enough.

[58] The two stanzas of the Querellas, or Complaints, still remaining to us, are in Ortiz de ZuÑiga, (Anales, p. 123,) and elsewhere.

[59] First published by Sanchez, (PoesÍas Anteriores, Tom. I. pp. 148-170,) where it may still be best consulted. The copy he used had belonged to the Marquis of Villena, who was suspected of the black art, and whose books were burnt on that account after his death, temp. John II. A specimen of the cipher is given in Cortinas’s translation of Bouterwek (Tom. I. p. 129). In reading this poem, it should be borne in mind that Alfonso believed in astrological predictions, and protected astrology by his laws. (Partida VII. TÍt. xxiii. Ley 1.) Moratin the younger (Obras, Madrid, 1830, 8vo, Tom. I. Parte I. p. 61) thinks that both the Querellas and the Tesoro were the work of the Marquis of Villena; relying, first, on the fact that the only manuscript of the latter known to exist once belonged to the Marquis; and, secondly, on the obvious difference in language and style between both and the rest of the king’s known works,—a difference which certainly may well excite suspicion, but does not much encourage the particular conjecture of Moratin as to the Marquis of Villena.

[60] Mariana, Hist., Lib. XIV. c. 7; Castro, Bibl., Tom. I. p. 411; and Mondejar, Memorias, p. 450. The last, however, is mistaken in supposing the translation of the Bible printed at Ferrara in 1553 to have been that made by order of Alfonso, since it was the work of some Jews of the period when it was published.

[61] La Gran Conquista de Ultramar was printed at Salamanca, by Hans Giesser, in folio, in 1503. That additions are made to it is apparent from Lib. III. c. 170, where is an account of the overthrow of the order of the Templars, which is there said to have happened in the year of the Spanish era 1412; and that it is a translation, so far as it follows William of Tyre, from an old French version of the thirteenth century, I state on the authority of a manuscript of Sarmiento. The Conquista begins thus:—

“Capitulo Primero. Como Mahoma predico en Aravia: y gano toda la tierra de Oriente.

“En aql. tiepo q eraclius emperador en Roma q fue bue Xpiano, et matuvo gran tiepo el imperio en justicia y en paz, levantose Mahoma en tierra de Aravia y mostro a las getes necias sciecia nueva, y fizo les creer q era profeta y mensagero de dios, y que le avia embiado al mundo por saluar los hombres qele creyessen,” etc.

The story of the Knight of the Swan, full of enchantments, duels, and much of what marks the books of chivalry, begins abruptly at Lib. 1. cap. 47, fol. xvii., with these words: “And now the history leaves off speaking for a time of all these things, in order to relate what concerns the Knight of the Swan,” etc.; and it ends with Cap. 185, f. lxxx., the next chapter opening thus: “Now this history leaves off speaking of this, and turns to relate how three knights went to Jerusalem,” etc. This story of the Knight of the Swan, which fills 63 leaves, or about a quarter part of the whole work, appeared originally in Normandy or Belgium, begun by Jehan Renault and finished by Gandor or Graindor of Douay, in 30,000 verses, about the year 1300. (De la Rue, Essai sur les Bardes, etc., Caen, 1834, 8vo, Tom. III. p. 213. Warton’s English Poetry, London, 1824, 8vo, Vol. II. p. 149. Collection of Prose Romances, by Thoms, London, 1838, 12mo, Vol. III., Preface.) It was, I suppose, inserted in the Ultramar, when the Ultramar was prepared for publication, because it was supposed to illustrate and dignify the history of Godfrey of Bouillon, its hero; but this is not the only part of the work made up later than its date. The last chapter, for instance, giving an account of the death of Conradin of the Hohenstauffen, and the assassination in the church of Viterbo, at the moment of the elevation of the host, of Henry, the grandson of Henry III. of England, by Guy of Monfort,—both noticed by Dante,—has nothing to do with the main work, and seems taken from some later chronicle.

[62] There is a curious collection of documents, published by royal authority, (Madrid, 1829-33, 6 tom. 8vo,) called “Coleccion de CÉdulas, Cartas, Patentes,” etc., relating to Biscay and the Northern provinces, where the Castilian first appeared. They contain nothing in that language so old as the letter of confirmation to the Fueros of AvilÉs by Alfonso the Seventh already noted; but they contain materials of some value for tracing the decay of the Latin, by documents dated from the year 804 downwards. (Tom. VI. p. 1.) There is, however, a difficulty relating both to the documents in Latin and to those in the early modern dialect; e. g. in relation to the one in Tom. V. p. 120, dated 1197. It is, that we are not certain that we possess them in precisely their original form and integrity. Indeed, in not a few instances we are sure of the opposite. For these Fueros, Privilegios, or whatever they are called, being but arbitrary grants of an absolute monarch, the persons to whom they were made were careful to procure confirmations of them from succeeding sovereigns, as often as they could; and when these confirmations were made, the original document, if in Latin, was sometimes translated, as was that of Peter the Cruel, given by Marina (TeorÍa de las Cortes, Madrid, 1813, 4to, Tom. III. p. 11); or, if in the modern dialect, it was sometimes copied and accommodated to the changed language and spelling of the age. Such confirmations were in some cases numerous, as in the grant first cited, which was confirmed thirteen times between 1231 and 1621. Now it does not appear from the published documents in this Coleccion what is, in each instance, the true date of the particular version used. The AvilÉs document, however, is not liable to this objection. It is extant on the original parchment, upon which the confirmation was made in 1155, with the original signatures of the persons who made it, as testified by the most competent witnesses. See post, Vol. III., Appendix (A), near the end.

[63] Fuero Juzgo is a barbarous phrase, which signifies the same as Forum Judicum, and is perhaps a corruption of it. (Covarrubias, Tesoro, Madrid, 1674, fol., ad verb.) The first printed edition of the Fuero Juzgo is of 1600; the best is that by the Academy, in Latin and Spanish, Madrid, 1815, folio.

[64] See the Discurso prefixed to the Academy’s edition, by Don Manuel de Lardizabal y Uribe; and Marina’s Ensayo, p. 29, in Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., Tom. IV., 1805. Perhaps the most curious passage in the Fuero Juzgo is the law (Lib. XII. TÍt. iii. Ley 15) containing the tremendous oath of abjuration prescribed to those Jews who were about to enter the Christian Church. But I prefer to give as a specimen of its language one of a more liberal spirit, viz., the eighth Law of the Primero Titolo, or Introduction, “concerning those who may become kings,” which in the Latin original dates from A. D. 643: “Quando el rey morre, nengun non deve tomar el regno, nen facerse rey, nen ningun religioso, nen otro omne, nen servo, nen otro omne estrano, se non omne de linage de los godos, et fillo dalgo, et noble et digno de costumpnes, et con el otorgamiento de los obispos, et de los godos mayores, et de todo el poblo. Asi que mientre que fÓrmos todos de un corazon, et de una veluntat, et de una fÉ, que sea entre nos paz et justicia enno regno, et que podamos ganar la companna de los angeles en el otro sieglo; et aquel que quebrantar esta nuestra lee sea escomungado por sempre.”

[65] For the Setenario, see Castro, Biblioteca, Tom. II. pp. 680-684; and Marina, Historia de la Legislacion, Madrid, 1808, fol., §§ 290, 291. As far as it goes, which is not through the first of the seven divisions proposed, it consists, 1. of an introduction by Alfonso; and 2. of a series of discussions on the Catholic religion, on Heathenism, etc., which were afterwards substantially incorporated into the first of the Partidas of Alfonso himself.

[66] OpÚsculos Legales del Rey Alfonso el Sabio, publicados, etc., por la Real Academia de la Historia, Madrid, 1836, 2 tom. fol. Marina, Legislacion, § 301.

[67] “El Setenario” was the name given to the work begun in the reign of St. Ferdinand, “because,” says Alfonso, in the preface to it, “all it contains is arranged by sevens.” In the same way his own code is divided into seven parts; but it does not seem to have been cited by the name of “The Seven Parts” till above a century after it was composed. Marina, Legislacion, §§ 292-303. Preface to the edition of the Partidas by the Academy, Madrid, 1807, 4to, Tom. I. pp. xv.-xviii.

[68] Much trouble arose from the attempt of Alfonso X. to introduce his code. Marina, Legislacion, §§ 417-419.

[69] Marina, Legis., § 449. Fuero Juzgo, ed. Acad., Pref., p. xliii.

[70] See a curious and learned book entitled “The Laws of the Siete Partidas, which are still in Force in the State of Louisiana,” translated by L. Moreau Lislet and H. Carleton, New Orleans, 1820, 2 vols. 8vo; and a discussion on the same subject in Wheaton’s “Reports of Cases in the Supreme Court of the United States,” Vol. V. 1820, Appendix; together with various cases in the other volumes of the Reports of the Supreme Court of the United States, e. g. Wheaton, Vol. III. 1818, p. 202, note (a). “We may observe,” says Dunham, (Hist. of Spain and Portugal, Vol. IV. p. 121,) “that, if all the other codes were banished, Spain would still have a respectable body of jurisprudence; for we have the experience of an eminent advocate in the Royal Tribunal of Appeals for asserting, that, during an extensive practice of twenty-nine years, scarcely a case occurred which could not be virtually or expressly decided by the code in question.”

[71] Partida II. TÍt. I. Ley 10, ed. Acad., Tom. II. p. 11.

[72] Partida II. TÍt. VII. Ley 10, and TÍt. V. Ley 16.

[73] Partida II. TÍt. VII. Ley 11.

[74] Partida II. TÍt. XXI. Leyes 9, 13.

[75] The laws about the Estudios Generales,—the name then given to what we now call Universities,—filling the thirty-first TÍtulo of the second Partida, are remarkable for their wisdom, and recognize some of the arrangements that still obtain in many of the Universities of the Continent. There was, however, at that period, no such establishment in Spain, except one which had existed in a very rude state at Salamanca for some time, and to which Alfonso X. gave the first proper endowment in 1254.

[76] Marina, in Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., Tom. IV., Ensayo, p. 52.

[77] As no more than a fair specimen of the genuine Castilian of the Partidas, I would cite Part. II. TÍt. V. Ley 18, entitled “Como el Rey debe ser granado et franco”: “Grandeza es virtud que estÁ bien Á todo home poderoso et seÑaladamente al rey quando usa della en tiempo que conviene et como debe; et por ende dixo AristÓteles Á Alexandro que Él puÑase de haber en si franqueza, ca por ella ganarie mas aina el amor et los corazones de la gente: et porque Él mejor podiese obrar desta bondat, espaladinol quÉ cosa es, et dixo que franqueza es dar al que lo ha menester et al que lo meresce, segunt el poder del dador, dando de lo suyo et non tomando de lo ageno para darlo Á otro, ca el que da mas de lo que puede non es franco, mas desgastador, et demas haberÁ por fuerza Á tomar de lo ageno quando lo suyo non compliere, et si de la una parte ganare amigos por lo que les diere, de la otra parte serle han enemigos aquellos Á quien lo tomare; et otrosi dixo que el que da al que non lo ha menester non le es gradecido, et es tal come el que vierte agua en la mar, et el que da al que lo non meresce es como el que guisa su enemigo que venga contra Él.”

[78] The Alexandro fills the third volume of the PoesÍas Anteriores of Sanchez, and was for a long time strangely attributed to Alfonso the Wise, (Nic. Antonio, Bibliotheca Hispana Vetus, ed. Bayer, Matriti, 1787-8, fol., Tom. II. p. 79, and Mondejar, Memorias, pp. 458, 459,) though the last lines of the poem itself declare its author to be Johan Lorenzo Segura.

[79] Walter de Chatillon’s Latin poem on Alexander the Great was so popular, that it was taught in the rhetorical schools, to the exclusion of Lucan and Virgil. (Warton’s English Poetry, London, 1824, 8vo, Vol. I. p. clxvii.) The French poem begun by Lambert li Cors, and finished by Alexandre de Paris, was less valued, but much read. GinguenÉ, in the Hist. Lit. de la France, Paris, 4to, Tom. XV. 1820, pp. 100-127.

[80] Transactions of the Royal Society of Literature, Vol. I Part II. pp. 5-23, a curious paper by Sir W. Ouseley.

[81] Coplas 225, 1452, and 1639, where Segura gives three Latin lines from Walter.

[82]

Quiero leer un libro · de un rey noble pagano,

Que fue de grant esforcio, · de corazon lozano,

ConquistÓ todel mundo, · metiol so su mano,

TernÉ, se lo compriere, · que soe bon escribano.

Del Princepe Alexandre, · que fue rey de Grecia,

Que fue franc È ardit · È de grant sabencia.

VenciÓ Poro È DÁrio, · dos Reyes de grant potencia,

Nunca conosciÓ ome su par · en la sufrencia.

El infante Alexandre · luego en su ninnÉz

ComenzÓ À demostrar · que serÍe de grant prez:

Nunca quiso mamar leche · de mugier rafez,

Se non fue de linage · È de grant gentilÉz.

Grandes signos contiron · quando est infant nasciÓ:

El ayre fue cambiado, · el sol escureciÓ,

Todol mar fue irado, · la tierra tremeciÓ,

Por poco quel mundo · todo non pereciÓ.

Sanchez, Tom. III. p. 1.

[83] Coplas 78, 80, 83, 89, etc.

[84] Coplas 1086-1094, etc.

[85] Coplas 299-716.

[86] Coplas 300 and 714.

[87] Coplas 386, 392, etc.

[88] Southey, in the notes to his “Madoc,” Part I. Canto xi., speaks justly of the “sweet flow of language and metre in Lorenzo.” At the end of the Alexandro are two prose letters supposed to have been written by Alexander to his mother; but I prefer to cite, as a specimen of Lorenzo’s style, the following stanzas on the music which the Macedonians heard in Babylon:—

Alli era la musica · cantada per razon,

Las dobles que refieren · coitas del corazon,

Las dolces de las baylas, · el plorant semiton,

Bien podrien toller precio · À quantos no mundo son.

Non es en el mundo · ome tan sabedor,

Que decir podiesse · qual era el dolzor,

Mientre ome viviesse · en aquella sabor

Non avrie sede · nen fame nen dolor.

St. 1976, 1977.

Las dobles in modern Spanish means the tolling for the dead;—here, I suppose, it means some sort of sad chanting.

[89] Los Votos del Pavon is first mentioned by the Marquis of Santillana (Sanchez, Tom. I. p. lvii.); and Fauchet says, (Recueil de l’Origine de la Langue et PoÉsie FranÇaise, Paris, 1581, fol., p. 88,) “Le Roman du Pavon est une continuation des faits d’Alexandre.” There is an account of a French poem on this subject, in the “Notices et Extraits des Manuscrits de la BibliothÈque Nationale,” etc., (Paris, an VII. 4to,) Tom. V. p. 118. Vows were frequently made in ancient times over favorite birds (Barante, Ducs de Bourgogne, ad an. 1454, Paris, 1837, 8vo, Tom. VII. pp. 159-164); and the vows in the Spanish poem seem to have involved a prophetic account of the achievements and troubles of Alexander’s successors.

[90] The extracts are in Castro, (Tom. II. pp. 725-729,) and the book, which contained forty-nine chapters, was called “Castigos y Documentos para bien vivir, ordenados por el Rey Don Sancho el Quarto, intitulado el Brabo”; Castigos being used to mean advice, as in the old French poem, “Le Castoiement d’un PÈre a son Fils”; and Documentos being taken in its primitive sense of instructions. The spirit of his father seems to speak in Sancho, when he says of kings, “que han de governar regnos e gentes con ayuda de Çientificos sabios.”

[91] Argote de Molina, Sucesion de los Manueles, prefixed to the Conde Lucanor, 1575. The date of his birth has been heretofore considered unsettled, but I have found it given exactly by himself in an unpublished letter to his brother, the Archbishop of Toledo, which occurs in a manuscript in the National Library at Madrid, to be noticed hereafter.

[92] In his report of his conversation with King Sancho, when that monarch was on his death-bed, he says, “The King Alfonso and my father in his lifetime, and King Sancho and myself in his lifetime, always had our households together, and our officers were always the same.” Farther on, he says he was brought up by Don Sancho, who gave him the means of building the castle of PeÑafiel, and calls God to witness that he was always true and loyal to Sancho, to Fernando, and to Alfonso XI., adding cautiously, “as far as this last king gave me opportunities to serve him.” Manuscript in the National Library at Madrid.

[93] CrÓnica de Alfonso XI., ed. 1551, fol., c. 19-21.

[94] Ibid., c. 46 and 48.

[95] CrÓnica de Alfonso XI., c. 49.

[96] Mariana, Hist., Lib. XV. c. 19.

[97] Ibid., Lib. XVI. c. 4. CrÓnica de Alfonso XI., c. 178. Argote de Molina, Sucesion de los Manueles.

[98] Mariana, in one of those happy hits of character which are not rare in his History, says of Don John Manuel, that he was “de condicion inquieta y mudable, tanto que a muchos parecia naciÓ solamente para revolver el reyno.” Hist., Lib. XV. c. 12.

[99] Argote de Molina, Life of Don John, in the ed. of the Conde Lucanor, 1575. The accounts of Argote de Molina, and of the manuscript in the National Library, are not precisely the same; but the last is imperfect, and evidently omits one work. Both contain the four following, viz.:—1. Chronicle of Spain; 2. Book of Hunting; 3. Book of Poetry; and 4. Book of Counsels to his Son. Argote de Molina gives besides these,—1. Libro de los Sabios; 2. Libro del Caballero; 3. Libro del Escudero; 4. Libro del Infante; 5. Libro de Caballeros; 6. Libro de los EngaÑos; and 7. Libro de los Exemplos. The manuscript gives, besides the four that are clearly in common, the following:—1. Letter to his brother, containing an account of the family arms, etc.; 2. Book of Conditions, or Libro de los Estados, which may be Argote de Molina’s Libro de los Sabios; 3. Libro del Caballero y del Escudero, of which Argote de Molina seems to make two separate works; 4. Libro de la CaballerÍa, probably Argote de Molina’s Libro de Caballeros; 5. La Cumplida; 6. Libro de los EngeÑos, a treatise on Military Engines, misspelt by Argote de Molina, EngaÑos, so as to make it a treatise on Frauds; and 7. Reglas como se deve trovar. But, as has been said, the manuscript has a hiatus, and, though it says there were twelve works, gives the titles of only eleven, and omits the Conde Lucanor, which is the Libro de los Exemplos of Argote’s list.

[100] Mem. de Alfonso el Sabio, p. 464.

[101] Note to Don Quixote, ed. Pellicer, Parte II. Tom. I. p. 284.

[102] PoesÍas Anteriores, Tom. IV. p. xi.

[103] I am aware there are poems in the Cancioneros Generales, by a Don John Manuel, which have been generally attributed to Don John Manuel, the Regent of Castile in the time of Alfonso XI., as, for instance, those in the Cancionero of Antwerp (1573, 8vo, ff. 175, 207, 227, 267). But they are not his. Their language and thoughts are quite too modern. Probably they are the work of Don John Manuel who was Camareiro MÒr of King Emanuel of Portugal, († 1524,) and whose poems, both in Portuguese and in Spanish, figure largely in the Cancioneiro Gerale of Garcia Rresende, (Lisboa, 1516, fol.,) where they are found at ff. 48-57, 148, 169, 212, 230, and I believe in some other places. He is the author of the Spanish “Coplas sobre los Siete Pecados Mortales,” dedicated to John II. of Portugal, († 1495,) which are in Bohl de Faber’s “Floresta,” (Hamburgo, 1821-25, 8vo, Tom. I. pp. 10-15,) taken from Rresende, f. 55, in one of the three copies of whose Cancioneiro then existing (that at the Convent of the Necessidades in Lisbon) I read them many years ago. Rresende’s Cancioneiro is now no longer so rare, being in course of publication by the Stuttgard Verein. The Portuguese Don John Manuel was a person of much consideration in his time; and in 1497 concluded a treaty for the marriage of King Emanuel of Portugal with Isabella, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain. (Barbosa, Biblioteca Lusitana, Lisboa, 1747, fol., Tom. II. p. 688.) But he appears very little to his honor in Lope de Vega’s play entitled “El PrÍncipe Perfeto,” under the name of Don Juan de Sosa. Comedias, Tom. XI., Barcelona, 1618, 4to, p. 121.

[104] A similar story is told of Dante, who was a contemporary of Don John Manuel, by Sachetti, who lived about a century after both of them. It is in his Novella 114, (Milano, 1815, 18mo, Tom. II. p. 154,) where, after giving an account of an important affair, about which Dante was desired to solicit one of the city officers, the story goes on thus:—

“When Dante had dined, he left his house to go about that business, and, passing through the Porta San Piero, heard a blacksmith singing as he beat the iron on his anvil. What he sang was from Dante, and he did it as if it were a ballad, (un cantare,) jumbling the verses together, and mangling and altering them in a way that was a great offence to Dante. He said nothing, however, but went into the blacksmith’s shop, where there were many tools of his trade, and, seizing first the hammer, threw it into the street, then the pincers, then the scales, and many other things of the same sort, all which he threw into the street. The blacksmith turned round in a brutal manner, and cried out, ‘What the devil are you doing here? Are you mad?’ ‘Rather,’ said Dante, ‘what are you doing?’ ‘I,’ replied the blacksmith, ‘I am working at my trade; and you spoil my things by throwing them into the street.’ ‘But,’ said Dante, ‘if you do not want to have me spoil your things, don’t spoil mine.’ ‘What do I spoil of yours?’ said the blacksmith. ‘You sing,’ answered Dante, ‘out of my book, but not as I wrote it; I have no other trade, and you spoil it.’ The blacksmith, in his pride and vexation, did not know what to answer; so he gathered up his tools and went back to his work, and when he afterward wanted to sing, he sang about Tristan and Launcelot, and let Dante alone.”

One of the stories is probably taken from the other: but that of Don John is older, both in the date of its event and in the time when it was recorded.

[105] Of this manuscript of Don John in the Library at Madrid, I have, through the kindness of Professor Gayangos, a copy, filling 199 closely written folio pages.

[106] It seems not unlikely that Don John Manuel intended originally to stop at the end of the twelfth tale; at least, he there intimates such a purpose.

[107] That the general form of the Conde Lucanor is Oriental may be seen by looking into the fables of Bidpai, or almost any other collection of Eastern stories; the form, I mean, of separate tales, united by some fiction common to them all, like that of relating them all to amuse or instruct some third person. The first appearance in Europe of such a series of tales grouped together was in the Disciplina Clericalis; a remarkable work, composed by Petrus Alphonsus, originally a Jew, by the name of Moses Sephardi, born at Huesca in Aragon in 1062, and baptized as a Christian in 1106, taking as one of his names that of Alfonso VI. of Castile, who was his godfather. The Disciplina Clericalis, or Teaching for Clerks or Clergymen, is a collection of thirty-seven stories, and many apophthegms, supposed to have been given by an Arab on his death-bed as instructions to his son. It is written in such Latin as belonged to its age. Much of the book is plainly of Eastern origin, and some of it is extremely coarse. It was, however, greatly admired for a long time, and was more than once turned into French verse, as may be seen in Barbazan (Fabliaux, ed. MÉon, Paris, 1808, 8vo, Tom. II. pp. 39-183). That the Disciplina Clericalis was the prototype of the Conde Lucanor is probable, because it was popular when the Conde Lucanor was written; because the framework of both is similar, the stories of both being given as counsels; because a good many of the proverbs are the same in both; and because some of the stories in both resemble one another, as the thirty-seventh of the Conde Lucanor, which is the same with the first of the Disciplina. But in the tone of their manners and civilization, there is a difference quite equal to the two centuries that separate the two works. Through the French version, the Disciplina Clericalis soon became known in other countries, so that we find traces of its fictions in the “Gesta Romanorum,” the “Decameron,” the “Canterbury Tales,” and elsewhere. But it long remained, in other respects, a sealed book, known only to antiquaries, and was first printed in the original Latin, from seven manuscripts in the King’s Library, Paris, by the SociÉtÉ des Bibliophiles (Paris, 1824, 2 tom. 12mo). Fr. W. V. Schmidt—to whom those interested in the early history of romantic fiction are much indebted for the various contributions he has brought to it—published the Disciplina anew in Berlin, 1827, 4to, from a Breslau manuscript; and, what is singular for one of his peculiar learning in this department, he supposed his own edition to be the first. It is, on account of its curious notes, the best; but the text of the Paris edition is to be preferred, and a very old French prose version that accompanies it makes it as a book still more valuable.

[108] They are all called Enxiemplos; a word which then meant story or apologue, as it does in the Archpriest of Hita, st. 301, and in the “CrÓnica General.” Old Lord Berners, in his delightful translation of Froissart, in the same way, calls the fable of the Bird in Borrowed Plumes “an Ensample.”

[109] Cap. 2.

[110] Cap. 3.

[111] Cap. 4.

[112] Capp. 24 and 26. The followers of Don John, however, have been more indebted to him than he was to his predecessors. Thus, the story of “Don Illan el Negromantico” (Cap. 13) was found by Mr. Douce in two French and four English authors. (Blanco White, Variedades, LÓndres, 1824, Tom. I. p. 310.) The apologue which Gil Blas, when he is starving, relates to the Duke of Lerma, (Liv. VIII. c. 6,) and “which,” he says, “he had read in Pilpay or some other fable writer,” I sought in vain in Bidpai, and stumbled upon it, when not seeking it, in the Conde Lucanor, Cap. 18. It may be added, that the fable of the Swallows and the Flax (Cap. 27) is better given there than it is in La Fontaine.

[113] Shakspeare, it is well known, took the materials for his “Taming of the Shrew,” with little ceremony, from a play with the same title, printed in 1594. But the story, in its different parts, seems to have been familiar in the East from the earliest times, and was, I suppose, found there among the traditions of Persia by Sir John Malcolm. (Sketches of Persia, London, 1827, 8vo, Vol. II. p. 54.) In Europe I am not aware that it can be detected earlier than the Conde Lucanor, Cap. 45. The doctrine of unlimited submission on the part of the wife seems, indeed, to have been a favorite one with Don John Manuel; for, in another story, (Cap. 5,) he says, in the very spirit of Petruchio’s jest about the sun and moon, “If a husband says the stream runs up hill, his wife ought to believe him, and say that it is so.”

[114] Fernan Gonzalez is the great hero of Castile, whose adventures will be noticed when we come to the poem about them; and in the battle of Hazinas he gained the decisive victory over the Moors which is well described in the third part of the “CrÓnica General.”

[115] “Y el Conde tovo este por buen exemplo,”—an old Castilian formula. (CrÓnica General, Parte III. c. 5.) Argote de Molina says of such phrases, which abound in the Conde Lucanor, that “they give a taste of the old proprieties of the Castilian”; and elsewhere, that “they show what was the pure idiom of our tongue.” Don John himself, with his accustomed simplicity, says, “I have made up the book with the handsomest words I could.” (Ed. 1575, f. 1, b.) Many of his words, however, needed explanation in the reign of Philip the Second, and, on the whole, the phraseology of the Conde Lucanor sounds older than that of the Partidas, which were yet written nearly a century before it. Some of its obsolete words are purely Latin, like cras for to-morrow, f. 83, and elsewhere.

[116] Cap. 20.

[117] Cap. 48.

[118] Cap. 8.—I infer from the Conde Lucanor, that Don John knew little about the Bible, as he cites it wrong in Cap. 4, and in Cap. 44 shows that he did not know it contained the comparison about the blind who lead the blind.

[119] There are two Spanish editions of the Conde Lucanor: the first and best by Argote de Molina, 4to, Sevilla, 1575, with a life of Don John prefixed, and a curious essay on Castilian verse at the end,—one of the rarest books in the world; and the other, only less rare, published at Madrid, 1642. The references in the notes are to the first. A reprint, made, if I mistake not, from the last, and edited by A. Keller, appeared at Stuttgard, 1839, 12mo, and a German translation by J. von Eichendorff, at Berlin, in 1840, 12mo. Don John Manuel, I observe, cites Arabic twice in the Conde Lucanor, (Capp. 11 and 14,)—a rare circumstance in early Spanish literature.

[120] Libro de la Monteria, que mando escrivir, etc., el Rey Don Alfonso de Castilla y de Leon, ultimo deste nombre, acrecentado por Argote de Molina, Sevilla, 1582, folio, 91 leaves,—the text not correct, as Pellicer says (note to Don Quixote, Parte II. c. 24). The Discurso of Argote de Molina, that follows, and fills 21 leaves more, is illustrated with curious woodcuts, and ends with a description of the palace of the Pardo, and an eclogue in octave stanzas, by Gomez de Tapia of Granada, on the birth of the Infanta DoÑa Isabel, daughter of Philip II.

[121] This old rhymed chronicle was found by the historian Diego de Mendoza among his Arabic manuscripts in Granada, and was sent by him, with a letter dated December 1, 1573, to Zurita, the annalist of Aragon, intimating that Argote de Molina would be interested in it. He says truly, that “it is well worth reading, to see with what simplicity and propriety men wrote poetical histories in the olden times”; adding, that “it is one of those books called in Spain Gestas,” and that it seems to him curious and valuable, because he thinks it was written by a secretary of Alfonso XI., and because it differs in several points from the received accounts of that monarch’s reign. (Dormer, Progresos de la Historia de Aragon, Zaragoza, 1680, fol., p. 502.) The thirty-four stanzas of this chronicle that we now possess were first published by Argote de Molina, in his very curious “Nobleza del Andaluzia,” (Sevilla, 1588, f. 198,) and were taken from him by Sanchez (PoesÍas Anteriores, Tom. I. pp. 171-177). Argote de Molina says, “I copy them on account of their curiosity as specimens of the language and poetry of that age, and because they are the best and most fluent of any thing for a long time written in Spain.” The truth is, they are so facile, and have so few archaisms in them, that I cannot believe they were written earlier than the ballads of the fifteenth century, which they so much resemble. The following account of a victory, which I once thought was that of Salado, gained in 1340, and described in the “CrÓnica de Alfonso XI.,” (1551, fol., Cap. 254,) but which I now think must have been some victory gained before 1330, is the best part of what has been published:—

Los Moros fueron fuyendo

Maldiziendo su ventura;

El Maestre los siguiendo

Por los puertos de Segura.

E feriendo e derribando

E prendiendo a las manos,

E Sanctiago llamando,

Escudo de los Christianos.

En alcance los llevaron

A poder de escudo y lanÇa,

E al castillo se tornaron

E entraron por la matanza.

E muchos Moros fallaron

EspedaÇados jacer;

El nombre de Dios loaron,

Que les mostrÓ gran plazer.

The Moors fled on, with headlong speed,

Cursing still their bitter fate;

The Master followed, breathing blood,

Through old Segura’s opened gate;—

And struck and slew, as on he sped,

And grappled still his flying foes;

While still to heaven his battle shout,

“St. James! St. James!” triumphant rose.

Nor ceased the victory’s work at last,

That bowed them to the shield and spear,

Till to the castle’s wall they turned

And entered through the slaughter there;—

Till there they saw, to havoc hewn,

Their Moorish foemen prostrate laid;

And gave their grateful praise to God,

Who thus vouchsafed his gracious aid.

It is a misfortune that this poem is lost.

[122] Slight extracts from the Beneficiado de Ubeda are in Sanchez, PoesÍas Anteriores, Tom. I. pp. 116-118. The first stanza, which is like the beginning of several of Berceo’s poems, is as follows:—

Si me ayudare Christo · È la Virgen sagrada,

Querria componer · una faccion rimada

De un confesor que fizo · vida honrada,

Que naciÓ en Toledo, · en esa Cibdat nombrada.

[123] See, for his life, Sanchez, Tom. I. pp. 100-106, and Tom. IV. pp. ii.-vi.;—and for an excellent criticism of his works, one in the Wiener JahrbÜcher der Literatur, 1832, Band LVIII. pp. 220-255. It is by Ferdinand Wolf, and he boldly compares the Archpriest to Cervantes.

[124] Sanchez, Tom. IV. p. x.

[125] Ibid., p. 283.

[126] The immoral tendency of many of the poems is a point that not only embarrasses the editor of the Archpriest, (see p. xvii. and the notes on pp. 76, 97, 102, etc.,) but somewhat disturbs the Archpriest himself. (See stanzas 7, 866, etc.) The case, however, is too plain to be covered up; and the editor only partly avoids trouble by quietly leaving out long passages, as from st. 441 to 464, etc.

[127] St. 61-68.

[128] There is some little obscurity about this important personage (st. 71, 671, and elsewhere); but she was named Urraca, (st. 1550,) and belonged to the class of persons technically called Alcahuetas, or “Go-betweens”; a class which, from the seclusion of women in Spain, and perhaps from the influence of Moorish society and manners, figures largely in the early literature of the country, and sometimes in the later. The Partidas (Part. VII. TÍt. 22) devotes two laws to them; and the “Tragicomedia of Celestina,” who is herself once called Trota-conventos, (end of Act. II.,) is their chief monument. Of their activity in the days of the Archpriest a whimsical proof is given in the extraordinary number of odious and ridiculous names and epithets accumulated on them in st. 898-902.

[129] St. 72 etc., 88 etc., 95 etc.

[130] When the affair is over, he says quaintly, “El comiÒ la vianda, È a mi fiso rumiar.”

[131] St. 119, 142 etc., 171 etc., 203 etc. Such discoursing as this last passage affords on the seven deadly sins is common in the French Fabliaux, and the English reader finds a striking specimen of it in the “Persone’s Tale” of Chaucer.

[132] St. 557-559, with 419 and 548. Pamphylus de Amore, F. A. Ebert, Bibliographisches Lexicon, Leipzig, 1830, 4to, Tom. II. p. 297. P. Leyseri Hist. Poet. Medii Ævi, HalÆ, 1721, 8vo, p. 2071. Sanchez, Tom. IV. pp. xxiii., xxiv. The story of Pamphylus in the Archpriest’s version is in stanzas 555-865. The story of the Archpriest’s own journey is in stanzas 924-1017. The Serranas in this portion are, I think, imitations of the Pastoretas or Pastorelles of the Troubadours. (Raynouard, Troubadours, Tom. II. pp. 229, etc.) If such poems occurred frequently in the Northern French literature of the period, I should think the Archpriest had found his models there, since it is there he generally resorts; but I have never seen any that came from north of the Loire so old as his time.

[133] St. 1017-1040. The “Bataille des Vins,” by D’Andeli, may be cited, (Barbazan, ed. MÉon, Tom. I. p. 152,) but the “Bataille de Karesme et de Charnage” (Ibid., Tom. IV. p. 80) is more in point. There are others on other subjects. For the marvellously savory personages in the Archpriest’s battle, see stanzas 1080, 1169, 1170, etc.

[134] St. 1184 etc., 1199-1229. It is not quite easy to see how the Archpriest ventured some things in the last passage. Parts of the procession come singing the most solemn hymns of the Church, or parodies of them, applied to Don Amor, like the Benedictus qui venit. It seems downright blasphemy against what was then thought most sacred.

[135] Stanzas 1221, 1229 etc., 1277 etc., 1289, 1491, 1492 etc., 1550 etc., 1553-1681.

[136] Stanzas 464, etc. As in many other passages, the Archpriest is here upon ground already occupied by the Northern French poets. See the “Usurer’s Pater-Noster,” and “Credo,” in Barbazan, Fabliaux, Tom. IV. pp. 99 and 106.

[137] Stanzas 1494 etc., 1609 etc.

[138] The Archpriest says of the fable of the Mountain that brought forth a Mouse, that it “was composed by Isopete.” Now there were at least two collections of fables in French in the thirteenth century, that passed under the name of Ysopet, and are published in Robert, “Fables InÉdites,” (Paris, 1825, 2 tom. 8vo); and as Marie de France, who lived at the court of Henry III. of England, then the resort of the Northern French poets, alludes to them in the Prologue to her own Fables, they are probably as early as 1240. (See PoÉsies de Marie de France, ed. Roquefort, Paris, 1820, 8vo, Tom. II. p. 61, and the admirable discussions in De la Rue sur les Bardes, les Jongleurs et les TrouvÈres, Caen, 1834, 8vo, Tom. I. pp. 198-202, and Tom. III. pp. 47-101.) To one or both of these Isopets the Archpriest went for a part of his fables,—perhaps for all of them. Don Juan Manuel, his contemporary, probably did the same, and sometimes took the same fables; e. g. Conde Lucanor, Capp. 43, 26, and 49, which are the fables of the Archpriest, stanzas 1386, 1411, and 1428.

[139] Stanzas 189, 206, 1419.

[140] It begins thus, stanza 1344:—

Mur de Guadalaxara · un Lunes madrugaba,

Fuese À Monferrado, · À mercado andaba;

Un mur de franca barba · recibiol’ en su cava,

Convidol’ À yantar · e diole una faba.

Estaba en mesa pobre · buen gesto È buena cara,

Con la poca vianda · buena voluntad para,

A los pobres manjares · el plaser los repara,

l’agos del buen talante · mur de Guadalaxara.

And so on through eight more stanzas. Now, besides the Greek attributed to Æsop and the Latin of Horace, there can be found above twenty versions of this fable, among which are two in Spanish, one by Bart. Leon. de Argensola, and the other by Samaniego; but I think the Archpriest’s is the best of the whole.

[141] There are at least two manuscripts of the poems of this Jew, from which nothing has been published but a few poor extracts. The one commonly cited is that of the Escurial, used by Castro, (Biblioteca EspaÑola, Tom. I. pp. 198-202,) and by Sanchez (Tom. I. pp. 179-184, and Tom. IV. p. 12, etc.). The one I have used is in the National Library, Madrid, marked B. b. 82, folio, in which the poem of the Rabbi is found on leaves 61 to 81. Conde, the historian of the Arabs, preferred this manuscript to the one in the Escurial, and held the Rabbi’s true name to be given in it, viz. Santob, and not Santo, as it is in the manuscript of the Escurial; the latter being a name not likely to be taken by a Jew in the time of Peter the Cruel, though very likely to be written so by an ignorant monkish transcriber. The manuscript of Madrid begins thus, differing from that of the Escurial, as may be seen in Castro, ut sup.:—

SeÑor Rey, noble, alto,

Oy este Sermon,

Que vyene desyr Santob,

Judio de Carrion.

Comunalmente trobado,

De glosas moralmente,

De la Filosofia sacado,

Segunt que va syguiente.

My noble King and mighty Lord,

Hear a discourse most true;

’T is Santob brings your Grace the word,

Of Carrion’s town the Jew.

In plainest verse my thoughts I tell,

With gloss and moral free,

Drawn from Philosophy’s pure well,

As onward you may see.

The oldest notice of the Jew of Carrion is in the letter of the Marquis of Santillana to the Constable of Portugal, from which there can be no doubt that the Rabbi still enjoyed much reputation in the middle of the fifteenth century.

[142]

Por nascer en el espino,

No val la rosa cierto

Menos; ni el buen vino,

Por nascer en el sarmyento.

Non val el aÇor menos,

Por nascer de mal nido;

Nin los exemplos buenos,

Por los decir Judio.

These lines seem better given in the Escurial manuscript as follows:—

Por nascer en el espino,

La rosa ya non siento,

Que pierde; ni el buen vino,

Por salir del sarmiento.

Non vale el aÇor menos,

Porque en vil nido siga;

Nin los enxemplos buenos,

Porque Judio los diga.

The manuscripts ought to be collated, and this curious poem published.

After a preface in prose, which seems to be by another hand, and an address to the king by the poet himself, he goes on:—

Quando el Rey Don Alfonso

FynÒ, fyncÒ la gente,

Como quando el pulso

FallesÇe al doliente.

Que luego no ayudava,

Que tan grant mejoria

A ellos fyncava

Nin omen lo entendia.

Quando la rosa seca,

En su tiempo sale

El agua que della fynca,

Rosada que mas vale.

Asi vos fyncastes del

Para mucho tu far,

Et facer lo que el

Cobdiciaba librar, etc.

One of the philosophical verses is very quaint:—

Quando no es lo que quiero,

Quiero yo lo que es;

Si pesar he primero,

Plaser avrÉ despues.

If what I find, I do not love,

Then love I what I find;

If disappointment go before,

Joy sure shall come behind.

I add from the unpublished original:—

Las mys canas teÑilas,

Non por las avorrescer,

Ni por desdesyrlas,

Nin mancebo parescer.

Mas con miedo sobejo

De omes que bastarian[*]

En mi seso de viejo,

E non lo fallarian.

My hoary locks I dye with care,

Not that I hate their hue,

Nor yet because I wish to seem

More youthful than is true.

But ’t is because the words I dread

Of men who speak me fair,

And ask within my whitened head

For wit that is not there.

[*] buscarian?

[143] Castro, Bibl. Esp., Tom. I. p. 199. Sanchez, Tom. I. p. 182; Tom. IV. p. xii.

I am aware that Don JosÉ Amador de los Rios, in his “Estudios HistÓricos, PolÍticos y Literarios sobre los Judios de EspaÑa,” a learned and pleasant book published at Madrid in 1848, is of a different opinion, and holds the three poems, including the Doctrina Christiana, to be the work of Don Santo or Santob of Carrion. (See pp. 304-335.) But I think the objections to this opinion are stronger than the reasons he gives to support it; especially the objections involved in the following facts, viz.: that Don Santob calls himself a Jew; that both the manuscripts of the Consejos call him a Jew; that the Marquis of Santillana, the only tolerably early authority that mentions him, calls him a Jew; that no one of them intimates that he ever was converted,—a circumstance likely to have been much blazoned abroad, if it had really occurred; and that, if he were an unconverted Jew, it is wholly impossible he should have written the DanÇa General, the Doctrina Christiana, or the ErmitaÑo.

I ought, perhaps, to add, in reference both to the remarks made in this note, and to the notices of the few Jewish authors in Spanish literature generally, that I did not receive the valuable work of Amador de los Rios till just as the present one was going to press.

[144] Castro, Bibl. Esp., Tom. I. p. 200. By the kindness of Prof. Gayangos, I have a copy of the whole. To judge from the opening lines of the poem, it was probably written in 1382:—

Despues de la prima · la ora passada,

En el mes de Enero · la noche primera

En cccc e veiynte · durante la hera,

Estando acostado alla · en mi posada, etc.

The first of January, 1420, of the Spanish Era, when the scene is laid, corresponds to A. D. 1382. A copy of the poem printed at Madrid, 1848, 12mo, pp. 13, differs from my manuscript copy, but is evidently taken from one less carefully made.

[145] Hist. of Eng. Poetry, Sect. 24, near the end. It appears also in French very early, under the title of “Le DÉbat du Corps et de l’Ame,” printed in 1486. (Ebert, Bib. Lexicon, Nos. 5671-5674.) The source of the fiction has been supposed to be a poem by a Frankish monk (Hagen und BÜsching, Grundriss, Berlin, 1812, 8vo, p. 446); but it is very old, and found in many forms and many languages. See Latin Poems attributed to Walter Mapes, and edited for the Camden Society by T. Wright (1841, 4to, pp. 95 and 321). It was printed in the ballad form in Spain as late as 1764.

[146] Castro, Bibl. EspaÑola, Tom. I. p. 200. Sanchez, Tom. I. pp. 182-185, with Tom. IV. p. xii. I suspect the Spanish Dance of Death is an imitation from the French, because I find, in several of the early editions, the French Dance of Death is united, as the Spanish is in the manuscript of the Escurial, with the “DÉbat du Corps et de l’Ame,” just as the “Vows over the Peacock” seems, in both languages, to have been united to a poem on Alexander.

[147] In what a vast number of forms this strange fiction occurs may be seen in the elaborate work of F. Douce, entitled “Dance of Death,” (London, 1833, 8vo,) and in the “Literatur der TodtentÄnze,” von H. F. Massmann (Leipzig, 1840, 8vo). To these, however, for our purpose, should be added notices from the Allgemeine Deutsche Bibliothek, (Berlin, 1792, Vol. CVI. p. 279,) and a series of prints that appeared at Lubec in 1783, folio, taken from the paintings there, which date from 1463, and which might well serve to illustrate the old Spanish poem. See also K. F. A. Scheller, BÜcherkunde der SÄssisch-niederdeutschen Sprache, Braunschweig, 1826, 8vo, p. 75. The whole immense series, whether existing in the paintings at Basle, Hamburg, etc., or in the old poems in all languages, one of which is by Lydgate, were undoubtedly intended for religious edification, just as the Spanish poem was.

[148] I have a manuscript copy of the whole poem, made for me by Professor Gayangos, and give the following as specimens. First, one of the stanzas translated in the text:—

A esta mi Danza traye de presente

Estas dos donÇellas que vedes fermosas;

Ellas vinieron de muy mala mente

A oyr mis canciones que son dolorosas.

Mas non les valdran flores ny rosas,

Nin las composturas que poner solian.

De mi si pudiesen partir se querrian,

Mas non puede ser, que son mis esposas.

And the two following, which have not, I believe, been printed; the first being the reply of Death to the Dean he had summoned, and the last the objections of the Merchant:—

Dice la Muerte.

Don rico avariento Dean muy ufano,

Que vuestros dineros trocastes en oro,

A pobres e a viudas cerrastes la mano,

E mal despendistes el vuestro tesoro,

Non quiero que estedes ya mas en el coro;

Salid luego fuera sin otra peresa.

Ya vos mostrarÉ venir À pobresa.—

Venit, Mercadero, a la danÇa del lloro.

Dice el Mercader.

A quien dexarÉ todas mis riquesas,

E mercadurias, que traygo en la mar?

Con muchos traspasos e mas sotilesas

GanÉ lo que tengo en cada lugar.

Agora la muerte vinÓ me llamar;

Que sera de mi, non se que me faga.

O muerte tu sierra Á mi es gran plaga.

Adios, Mercaderes, que voyme Á finar!

[149] See a learned dissertation of Fr. Benito Montejo, on the Beginnings of the Independence of Castile, Memorias de la Acad. de Hist., Tom. III. pp. 245-302. CrÓnica General de EspaÑa, Parte III. c. 18-20. Duran, Romances Caballerescos, Madrid, 1832, 12mo, Tom. II. pp. 27-39. Extracts from the manuscript in the Escurial are to be found in Bouterwek, trad. por J. G. de la Cortina, etc., Tom. I. pp. 154-161. I have a manuscript copy of the first part of it, made for me by Professor Gayangos. For notices, see Castro, Bibl., Tom. I. p. 199, and Sanchez, Tom. I. p. 115.

[150] CrÓnica General, ed. 1604, Parte III. f. 55. b, 60. a-65. b. Compare, also, Cap. 19, and Mariana, Historia, Lib. VIII. c. 7, with the poem. That the poem was taken from the Chronicle may be assumed, I conceive, from a comparison of the Chronicle, Parte III. c. 18, near the end, containing the defeat and death of the Count of Toulouse, with the passage in the poem as given by Cortina, and beginning “Cavalleros Tolesanos trezientos y prendieron”; or the vision of San Millan (CrÓnica, Parte III. c. 19) with the passage in the poem beginning “El Cryador te otorga quanto pedido le as.” Perhaps, however, the following, being a mere rhetorical illustration, is a proof as striking, if not as conclusive, as a longer one. The Chronicle says, (Parte III. c. 18,) “Non cuentan de Alexandre los dias nin los aÑos; mas los buenos fechos e las sus cavallerÍas que fizo.” The poem has it, in almost the same words:—

Non cuentan de Alexandre · las noches nin los dias;

Cuentan sus buenos fechos · e sus cavalleryas.

[151]

El Rey y el Conde · ambos se ayuntaron,

El uno contra el otro · ambos endereÇaron,

E la lid campal alli · la escomenÇaron.

Non podrya mas fuerte · ni mas brava ser,

Ca alli les yva todo · levantar o caer;

El nin el Rey non podya · ninguno mas faÇer,

Los unos y los otros · faÇian todo su poder.

Muy grande fue la faÇienda · e mucho mas el roydo;

Daria el ome muy grandes voces, · y non seria oydo.

El que oydo fuese seria · como grande tronydo;

Non podrya oyr voces · ningun apellido.

Grandes eran los golpes, · que mayores non podian;

Los unos y los otros · todo su poder faÇian;

Muchos cayan en tierra · que nunca se enÇian;

De sangre los arroyos · mucha tierra cobryan.

Asas eran los Navarros · cavalleros esforÇados

Que en qualquier lugar · seryan buenos y priados,

Mas es contra el Conde · todos desaventurados;

Omes son de gran cuenta · y de coraÇon loÇanos.

Quiso Dios al buen Conde · esta gracia faÇer,

Que Moros ni Crystyanos · non le podian venÇer, etc.

Bouterwek, trad. Cortina, p. 160.

[152] Other manuscripts of this sort are known to exist; but I am not aware of any so old, or of such poetical value. (Ochoa, CatÁlogo de Manuscritos EspaÑoles, etc., pp. 6-21. Gayangos, Mohammedan Dynasties in Spain, Tom. I. pp. 492 and 503.) As to the spelling in the Poem of Joseph, we have sembraredes, chiriador, certero, marabella, taraydores, etc. To avoid a hiatus, a consonant is prefixed to the second word; as “cada guno” repeatedly for cada uno. The manuscript of the Poema de JosÉ, in 4to, 49 leaves, was first shown to me in the Public Library at Madrid, marked G. g. 101, by Conde, the historian; but I owe a copy of the whole of it to the kindness of Don Pascual de Gayangos, Professor of Arabic in the University there.

[153] The passage I have translated is in Coplas 5-7, in the original manuscript, as it now stands, imperfect at the beginning.

Dijieron sus filhos: · “Padre, eso no pensedes;

Somos diez ermanos, · eso bien sabedes;

Seriamos taraidores, · eso no dubdedes;

Mas, empero, si no vos place, · aced lo que queredes.

“Mas aquesto pensamos, · sabelo el Criador;

Porque supiese mas, · i ganase el nuestro amor,

EnseÑarle aiemos las obelhas, · i el ganado mayor;

Mas, enpero, si no vos place, · mandad como seÑor.”

Tanto le dijeron, · de palabras fermosas,

Tanto le prometieron, · de palabras piadosas,

Que el les diÓ el ninno, · dijoles las oras,

Que lo guardasen a el · de manos enganosas.

Poema de JosÉ, MS.

[154]

Rogo Jacob al Criador, · e al lobo fue a fablar;

Dijo el lobo: “No lo mando · Allah, que a nabi[*] fuese a matar,

En tan estranna tierra · me fueron Á cazar,

Anme fecho pecado, · i lebanme a lazrar.”

MS.

[*] Nabi, Prophet, Arabic.

[155]

La mesura del pan · de oro era labrada,

E de piedras preciosas · era estrellada,

I era de ver toda · con guisa enclabada,

Que fazia saber al Rey · la berdad apurada.

· · · · · · · · · · · ·

E firio el Rey en la mesura · e fizola sonar,

Pone la Á su orella · por oir e guardar;

Dijoles, e no quiso · mas dudar,

Segun dize la mesura, · berdad puede estar.

MS.

It is Joseph who is here called king, as he is often in the poem,—once he is called emperor, though the Pharaoh of the period is fully recognized; and this costly measure, made of gold and precious stones, corresponds to the cup of the Hebrew account, and is found, like that, in the sack of Benjamin, where it had been put by Joseph, (after he had secretly revealed himself to Benjamin,) as the means of seizing Benjamin and detaining him in Egypt, with his own consent, but without giving his false brethren the reason for it.

[156]

Dijo Jusuf: “Ermanos, · perdoneos el Criador,

Del tuerto que me tenedes, · perdoneos el SeÑor,

Que para siempre e nunca · se parta el nuestro amor.”

AbrasÒ a cada guno, · e partiÒse con dolor.

MS.

[157] As the original has not been printed, I transcribe the following stanzas of the passage I have last translated:—

Dio salto del camello, · donde iba cabalgando;

No lo sintio el negro, · que lo iba guardando;

Fuese a la fuesa de su madre, · a pedirla perdon doblando,

Jusuf a la fuesa · tan apriesa llorando.

Disiendo: “Madre, sennora, · perdoneos el Sennor;

Madre, si me bidieses, · de mi abriais dolor;

Boi con cadenas al cuello, · catibo con sennor,

Bendido de mis ermanos, · como si fuera traidor.

“Ellos me han bendido, · no teniendoles tuerto;

Partieronme de mi padre, · ante que fuese muerto;

Con arte, con falsia, ellos · me obieron buelto;

Por mal precio me han · bendido, por do boi ajado e cucito.”

E bolbiose el negro · ante la camella,

Requiriendo À Jusuf, · e no lo bido en ella;

E bolbiose por el camino · aguda su orella,

Bidolo en el fosal · llorando, que es marabella.

E fuese alla el negro, · e obolo mal ferido,

E luego en aquella ora · caio amortesido;

Dijo, “Tu eres malo, · e ladron conpilido;

Ansi nos lo dijeron tus seÑores · que te hubieron bendido.”

Dijo Jusuf: “No soi · malo, ni ladron,

Mas, aqui iaz mi madre, · e bengola a dar perdon;

Ruego ad Allah i a · el fago loaiÇon,

Que, si colpa no te tengo, · te enbie su maldicion.”

Andaron aquella noche · fasta otro dia,

Entorbioseles el mundo, · gran bento corria,

Afallezioseles el sol · al ora de mediodia,

No vedian por do ir · con la mercaderia.

Poema de JosÉ, MS.

[158] This is apparent also in the addition sometimes made of an o or an a to a word ending with a consonant, as mercadero for mercader.

[159] Thus, the merchant who buys Joseph talks of Palestine as “the Holy Land,” and Pharaoh talks of making Joseph a Count. But the general tone is Oriental.

[160] For the Rimado de Palacio, see Bouterwek, trad. de Cortina, Tom. I. pp. 138-154. The whole poem consists of 1619 stanzas. For notices of Ayala, see Chap. IX.

[161] Letrado has continued to be used to mean a lawyer in Spanish down to our day, as clerk has to mean a writer in English, though the original signification of both was different. When Sancho goes to his island, he is said to be “parte de letrado, parte de Capitan”; and Guillen de Castro, in his “Mal Casados de Valencia,” Act. III., says of a great rogue, “engaÑo como letrado.” A description of Letrados, worthy of Tacitus for its deep satire, is to be found in the first book of Mendoza’s “Guerra de Granada.”

[162] The passage is in Cortina’s notes to Bouterwek, and begins:—

Si quisiers sobre un pleyto · d’ ellos aver consejo,

PÓnense solemnmente, · luego abaxan el cejo:

Dis: “Grant question es esta, · grant trabajo sobejo:

El pleyto sera luengo, · ca ataÑe a to el consejo.

“Yo pienso que podria · aquÍ algo ayudar,

Tomando grant trabajo · mis libros estudiar;

Mas todos mis negoÇios · me conviene Á dexar,

E solamente en aqueste · vuestro pleyto estudiar.”

[163] The original reads thus:—

Aqui fabla de la Justicia.

Justicia que es virtud · atan noble e loada,

Que castiga los malos · e ha la tierra poblada,

Devenla guardar Reyes · É la tien olvidada,

Siendo piedra preciosa · de su corona onrrada.

Muchos ha que por cruesa · cuydan justicia fer;

Mas pecan en la maÑa, · ca justicia ha de ser

Con toda piedat, · e la verdat bien saber:

Al fer la execucion · siempre se han de doler.

Don JosÉ Amador de los Rios has given further extracts from the Rimado de Palacio in a pleasant paper on it in the Semanario Pintoresco, Madrid, 1847, p. 411.

[164] Alfonso el Sabio says of his father, St. Ferdinand: “And, moreover, he liked to have men about him who knew how to make verses (trobar) and sing, and Jongleurs, who knew how to play on instruments. For in such things he took great pleasure, and knew who was skilled in them and who was not.” (Setenario, PaleographÍa, pp. 80-83, and p. 76.) See, also, what is said hereafter, when we come to speak of ProvenÇal literature in Spain, Chap. XVI.

[165] The Edinburgh Review, No. 146, on Lockhart’s Ballads, contains the ablest statement of this theory.

[166] The passage in Strabo here referred to, which is in Book III. p. 139, (ed. Casaubon, fol., 1620,) is to be taken in connection with the passage (p. 151) in which he says that both the language and its poetry were wholly lost in his time.

[167] Argote de Molina (Discurso de la PoesÍa Castellana, in Conde Lucanor, ed. 1575, f. 93. a) may be cited to this point, and one who believed it tenable might also cite the “CrÓnica General,” (ed. 1604, Parte II. f. 265,) where, speaking of the Gothic kingdom, and mourning its fall, the Chronicle says, “Forgotten are its songs, (cantares,)” etc.

[168] W. von Humboldt, in the Mithridates of Adelung and Vater, Berlin, 1817, 8vo, Tom. IV. p. 354, and Argote de Molina, ut sup., f. 93;—but the Basque verses the latter gives cannot be older than 1322, and were, therefore, quite as likely to be imitated from the Spanish as to have been themselves the subjects of Spanish imitation.

[169] Dominacion de los Árabes, Tom. I., PrÓlogo, pp. xviii.-xix., p. 169, and other places. But in a manuscript preface to a collection which he called “PoesÍas Orientales traducidas por Jos. Ant. Conde,” and which he never published, he expresses himself yet more positively: “In the versification of our Castilian ballads and seguidillas, we have received from the Arabs an exact type of their verses.” And again he says, “From the period of the infancy of our poetry, we have rhymed verses according to the measures used by the Arabs before the times of the Koran.” This is the work, I suppose, to which Blanco White alludes (Variedades, Tom. II. pp. 45, 46). The theory of Conde has been often approved. See Retrospective Review, Tom. IV. p. 31, the Spanish translation of Bouterwek, Tom. I. p. 164, etc.

[170] Argote de Molina (Discurso sobre la PoesÍa Castellana, in Conde Lucanor, 1575, f. 92) will have it that the ballad verse of Spain is quite the same with the eight-syllable verse in Greek, Latin, Italian, and French; “but,” he adds, “it is properly native to Spain, in whose language it is found earlier than in any other modern tongue, and in Spanish alone it has all the grace, gentleness, and spirit that are more peculiar to the Spanish genius than to any other.” The only example he cites in proof of this position is the Odes of Ronsard,—“the most excellent Ronsard,” as he calls him,—then at the height of his euphuistical reputation in France; but Ronsard’s odes are miserably unlike the freedom and spirit of the Spanish ballads. (See Odes de Ronsard, Paris, 1573, 18mo, Tom. II. pp. 62, 139.) The nearest approach that I recollect to the mere measure of the ancient Spanish ballad, where there was no thought of imitating it, is in a few of the old French Fabliaux, in Chaucer’s “House of Fame,” and in some passages of Sir Walter Scott’s poetry. Jacob Grimm, in his “Silva de Romances Viejos,” (Vienna, 1815, 18mo,) taken chiefly from the collection of 1555, has printed the ballads he gives us as if their lines were originally of fourteen or sixteen syllables; so that one of his lines embraces two of those in the old Romanceros. His reason was, that their epic nature and character required such long verses, which are in fact substantially the same with those in the old “Poem of the Cid.” But his theory, which was not generally adopted, is sufficiently answered by V. A. Huber, in his excellent tract, “De Primitiv Cantilenarum Popularium Epicarum (vulgo, Romances) apud Hispanos FormÂ,” (Berolini, 1844, 4to,) and in his preface to his edition of the “ChrÓnica del Cid,” 1844.

[171] The only suggestion I have noticed affecting this statement is to be found in the Repertorio Americano, (LÓndres, 1827, Tom. II. pp. 21, etc.,) where the writer, who, I believe, is Don Andres Bello, endeavours to trace the asonante to the “Vita Mathildis,” a Latin poem of the twelfth century, reprinted by Muratori, (Rerum Italicarum Scriptores, Mediolani, 1725, fol., Tom. V. pp. 335, etc.,) and to a manuscript Anglo-Norman poem, of the same century, on the fabulous journey of Charlemagne to Jerusalem. But the Latin poem is, I believe, singular in this attempt, and was, no doubt, wholly unknown in Spain; and the Anglo-Norman poem, which has since been published by Michel, (London, 1836, 12mo,) with curious notes, turns out to be rhymed, though not carefully or regularly. Raynouard, in the Journal des Savants, (February, 1833, p. 70,) made the same mistake with the writer in the Repertorio; probably in consequence of following him. The imperfect rhyme of the ancient Gaelic seems to have been different from the Spanish asonante, and, at any rate, can have had nothing to do with it. Logan’s Scottish Gael, London, 1831, 8vo, Vol. II. p. 241.

[172] Cervantes, in his “Amante Liberal,” calls them consonancias or consonantes dificultosas. No doubt, their greater difficulty caused them to be less used than the asonantes. Juan de la Enzina, in his little treatise on Castilian Verse, Cap. 7, written before 1500, explains these two forms of rhyme, and says that the old romances “no van verdaderos consonantes.” Curious remarks on the asonantes are to be found in Renjifo, “Arte Poetica EspaÑola,” (Salamanca, 1592, 4to, Cap. 34,) and the additions to it in the edition of 1727 (4to, p. 418); to which may well be joined the philosophical suggestions of Martinez de la Rosa, Obras, Paris, 1827, 12mo, Tom. I. pp. 202-204.

[173] A great poetic license was introduced before long into the use of the asonante, as there had been, in antiquity, into the use of the Greek and Latin measures, until the sphere of the asonante became, as Clemencin well says, extremely wide. Thus, u and o were held to be asonante, as in Venus and Minos; i and e, as in Paris and males; a diphthong with a vowel, as gracia and alma, cuitas and burlas; and other similar varieties, which, in the times of Lope de Vega and GÓngora, made the permitted combinations all but indefinite, and the composition of asonante verses indefinitely easy. Don Quixote, ed. Clemencin, Tom. III. pp. 271, 272, note.

[174] PoesÍa EspaÑola, Madrid, 1775, 4to, sec. 422-430.

[175] It would be easy to give many specimens of ballads made from the old chronicles, but for the present purpose I will take only a few lines from the “CrÓnica General,” (Parte III. f. 77. a, ed. 1604,) where Velasquez, persuading his nephews, the Infantes de Lara, to go against the Moors, despite of certain ill auguries, says, “Sobrinos estos agueros que oystes mucho son buenos; ca nos dan a entender que ganaremos muy gran algo de lo ageno, e de lo nuestro non perderemos; e fizol muy mal Don NuÑo Salido en non venir combusco, e mande Dios que se arrepienta,” etc. Now, in SepÚlveda, (Romances, Anvers, 1551, 18mo, f. 11), in the ballad beginning “Llegados son los Infantes,” we have these lines:—

Sobrinos esos agueros

Para nos gran bien serian,

Porque nos dan a entender

Que bien nos sucediera.

Ganaremos grande victoria,

Nada no se perdiera,

Don NuÑo lo hizo mal

Que convusco non venia,

Mande Dios que se arrepienta, etc.

[176] Duran, Romances Caballerescos, Madrid, 1832, 12mo, PrÓlogo, Tom. I. pp. xvi., xvii., with xxxv., note (14).

[177] The peculiarities of a metrical form so entirely national can, I suppose, be well understood only by an example; and I will, therefore, give here, in the original Spanish, a few lines from a spirited and well-known ballad of GÓngora, which I select, because they have been translated into English asonantes, by a writer in the Retrospective Review, whose excellent version follows, and may serve still further to explain and illustrate the measure:—

Aquel rayo de la guerra,

Alferez mayor del rÉyno,

Tan galan como valiente,

Y tan noble como fiÉro,

De los mozos embidiado,

Y admirado de los viÉjos,

Y de los niÑos y el vulgo

SeÑalado con el dÉdo,

El querido de las damas,

Por cortesano y discrÉto,

Hijo hasta alli regalado

De la fortuna y el tiempo, etc.

Obras, Madrid, 1654, 4to, f. 83.

This rhyme is perfectly perceptible to any ear well accustomed to Spanish poetry, and it must be admitted, I think, that, when, as in the ballad cited, it embraces two of the concluding vowels of the line, and is continued through the whole poem, the effect, even upon a foreigner, is that of a graceful ornament, which satisfies without fatiguing. In English, however, where our vowels have such various powers, and where the consonants preponderate, the case is quite different. This is plain in the following translation of the preceding lines, made with spirit and truth, but failing to produce the effect of the Spanish. Indeed, the rhyme can hardly be said to be perceptible except to the eye, though the measure and its cadences are nicely managed.

“He the thunderbolt of battle,

He the first Alferez titled,

Who as courteous is as valiant,

And the noblest as the fiercest;

He who by our youth is envied,

Honored by our gravest ancients,

By our youth in crowds distinguished

By a thousand pointed fingers;

He beloved by fairest damsels,

For discretion and politeness,

Cherished son of time and fortune,

Bearing all their gifts divinest,” etc.

Retrospective Review, Vol. IV. p. 35.

Another specimen of English asonantes is to be found in Bowring’s “Ancient Poetry of Spain” (London, 1824, 12mo, p. 107); but the result is substantially the same, and always must be, from the difference between the two languages.

[178] Speaking of the ballad verses, he says, (PrÓlogo Á las Rimas Humanas, Obras Sueltas, Tom. IV., Madrid, 1776, 4to, p. 176,) “I regard them as capable, not only of expressing and setting forth any idea whatever with easy sweetness, but carrying through any grave action in a versified poem.” His prediction was fulfilled in his own time by the “Fernando” of Vera y Figueroa, a long epic published in 1632, and in ours by the very attractive narrative poem of Don Ángel de Saavedra, Duke de Rivas, entitled “El Moro Exposito,” in two volumes, 1834. The example of Lope de Vega, in the latter part of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth centuries, no doubt did much to give currency to the asonantes, which, from that time, have been more used than they were earlier.

[179] See the barbarous Latin poem printed by Sandoval, at the end of his “Historia de los Reyes de Castilla,” etc. (Pamplona, 1615, fol., f. 193). It is on the taking of Almeria in 1147, and seems to have been written by an eyewitness.

[180] The authority for this is sufficient, though the fact itself of a man being named from the sort of poetry he composed is a singular one. It is found in Diego Ortiz de ZuÑiga, “Anales Ecclesiasticos y Seglares de Sevilla,” (Sevilla, 1677, fol., pp. 14, 90, 815, etc.). He took it, he says, from the original documents of the repartimientos, which he describes minutely as having been used by Argote de Molina, (Preface and p. 815,) and from documents in the archives of the Cathedral. The repartimiento, or distribution of lands and other spoils in a city, from which, as Mariana tells us, a hundred thousand Moors emigrated or were expelled, was a serious matter, and the documents in relation to it seem to have been ample and exact. (ZuÑiga, Preface, and pp. 31, 62, 66, etc.) The meaning of the word Romance in this place is a more doubtful matter. But if any kind of popular poetry is meant by it, what was it likely to be, at so early a period, but ballad poetry? The verses, however, which Ortiz de ZuÑiga, on the authority of Argote de Molina, attributes (p. 815) to Domingo Abad de los Romances, are not his; they are by the Arcipreste de Hita. See Sanchez, Tom. IV. p. 166.

[181] Stanzas 426, 427, 483-495, ed. Paris, 1844, 8vo.

[182] Partida II. TÍt. XXI. Leyes 20, 21. “Neither let the singers (juglares) rehearse before them other songs (cantares) than those of military gestes, or those that relate feats of arms.” The juglares—a word that comes from the Latin jocularis—were originally strolling ballad-singers, like the jongleurs, but afterwards sunk to be jesters and jugglers. See Clemencin’s curious note to Don Quixote, Parte II. c. 31.

[183] CrÓnica General, Valladolid, 1604, Parte III. ff. 30, 33, 45.

[184] El Conde Lucanor, 1575. Discurso de la PoesÍa Castellana por Argote de Molina, f. 93. a.

[185] The end of the Second Part of the General Chronicle, and much of the third, relating to the great heroes of the early Castilian and Leonese history, seem to me to have been indebted to older poetical materials.

[186] Discurso, Conde Lucanor, ed. 1575, ff. 92. a, 93. b. The poetry contained in the Cancioneros Generales, from 1511 to 1573, and bearing the name of Don John Manuel, is, as we have already explained, the work of Don John Manuel of Portugal, who died in 1524.

[187] The Marquis of Santillana, in his well-known letter, (Sanchez, Tom. I.,) speaks of the Romances e cantares, but very slightly.

[188] Cancion, Canzone, Chansos, in the Romance language, signified originally any kind of poetry, because all poetry, or almost all, was then sung. (Giovanni Galvani, Poesia dei Trovatori, Modena, 1829, 8vo, p. 29.) In this way, Cancionero in Spanish was long understood to mean simply a collection of poetry,—sometimes all by one author, sometimes by many.

[189] The whole ballad, with a different reading of the passage here translated, is in the Cancionero de Romances, Saragossa, 1550, 12mo, Parte II. f. 188, beginning “Media noche era por hilo.” Often, however, as the adventures of the Count Claros are alluded to in the old Spanish poetry, there is no trace of them in the old chronicles. The fragment in the text begins thus, in the Cancionero General (1535, f. 106. a):—

Pesame de vos, el Conde,

Porque assi os quieren matar;

Porque el yerro que hezistes

No fue mucho de culpar;

Que los yerros por amores

Dignos son de perdonar.

Suplique por vos al Rey,

Cos mandasse de librar;

Mas el Rey, con gran enojo,

No me quisiera escuchar, etc.

The beginning of this ballad in the complete copy from the Saragossa Romancero shows that it was composed before clocks were known.

[190] The forced alliteration of the first lines, and the phraseology of the whole, indicate the rudeness of the very early Castilian:—

Yo mera mora Morayma,

Morilla d’un bel catar;

Christiano vino a mi puerta,

Cuytada, por me enganar.

Hablome en algaravia,

Como aquel que la bien sabe:

“Abras me las puertas, Mora,

Si Ala te guarde de mal!”

“Como te abrire, mezquina,

Que no se quien tu seras?”

“Yo soy el Moro MaÇote,

Hermano de la tu madre,

Que un Christiano dejo muerto;

Tras mi venia el alcalde.

Sino me abres tu, mi vida,

Aqui me veras matar.”

Quando esto oy, cuytada,

Comenceme a levantar;

Vistierame vn almexia,

No hallando mi brial;

Fuerame para la puerta,

Y abrila de par en par.

Cancionero General, 1535, f. 111. a.

[191] These two ballads are in the Cancionero of 1535, ff. 107 and 108; both evidently very old. The use of carta in the last for an unwritten message is one proof of this. I give the originals of both for their beauty. And first:—

Fonte frida, fonte frida,

Fonte frida, y con amor,

Do todas las avezicas

Van tomar consolacion,

Sino es la tortolica,

Que esta biuda y con dolor.

Por ay fue a passar

El traydor del ruyseÑor;

Las palabras que el dezia

Llenas son de traicion:

“Si tu quisiesses, SeÑora,

Yo seria tu seruidor.”

“Vete de ay, enemigo,

Malo, falso, engaÑador,

Que ni poso en ramo verde

Ni en prado que tenga flor;

Que si hallo el agua clara,

Turbia la bebia yo:

Que no quiero aver marido,

Porque hijos no haya, no;

No quiero plazer con ellos,

Ni menos consolacion.

Dejame, triste enemigo,

Malo, falso, mal traidor,

Que no quiero ser tu amiga,

Ni casar contigo, no.”

The other is as follows:—

“Rosa fresca, Rosa fresca,

Tan garrida y con amor;

Quando yos tuve en mis brazos,

No vos supe servir, no!

Y agora quos serviria,

No vos puedo aver, no!”

“Vuestra fue la culpa, amigo,

Vuestra fue, que mia, no!

Embiastes me una carta,

Con un vuestro servidor,

Y en lugar de recaudar,

El dixera otra razon:

Querades casado, amigo,

Alla en tierras de Leon;

Que teneis muger hermosa,

Y hijos como una flor.”

“Quien os lo dixo, SeÑora,

No vos dixo verdad, no!

Que yo nunca entre en Castilla,

Ni alla en tierras de Leon,

Si no quando era pequeÑo,

Que no sabia de amor.”

[192] These ballads are in the edition of 1535, on ff. 109, 111, and 113.

[193] One of the most spirited of these later ballads in the edition of 1573, begins thus (f. 373):—

Ay, Dios de mi tierra,

Saqueis me de aqui!

Ay, que Ynglaterra

Ya no es para mi.

God of my native land,

O, once more set me free!

For here, on England’s soil,

There is no place for me.

It was probably written by some homesick follower of Philip II.

[194] SalvÁ (Catalogue, London, 1826, 8vo, No. 60) reckons nine Cancioneros Generales, the principal of which will be noticed hereafter.

[195] Those on Gayferos begin, “Estabase la Condessa,” “Vamonos, dixo mi tio,” and “Assentado esta Gayferos.” The two long ones on the Marquis of Mantua and the Conde d’ Irlos begin, “De Mantua saliÓ el MarquÉs,” and “Estabase el Conde d’ Irlos.”

[196] Compare the story of the angels in disguise, who made the miraculous cross for Alfonso, A. D. 794, as told in the ballad, “Reynando el Rey Alfonso,” in the Romancero of 1550, with the same story as told in the “CrÓnica General” (1604, Parte III. f. 29);—and compare the ballad, “Apretada estÀ Valencia,” (Romancero, 1550,) with the “CrÓnica del Cid,” 1593, c. 183, p. 154.

[197] It begins, “Retrayida estÀ la Infanta,” (Romancero, 1550,) and is one of the most tender and beautiful ballads in any language. There are translations of it by Bowring (p. 51) and by Lockhart (Spanish Ballads, London, 1823, 4to, p. 202). It has been at least four times brought into a dramatic form;—viz., by Lope de Vega, in his “Fuerza Lastimosa”; by Guillen de Castro; by Mira de Mescua; and by JosÉ J. Milanes, a poet of Havana, whose works were printed there in 1846 (3 vols. 8vo);—the three last giving their dramas simply the name of the ballad,—“Conde Alarcos.” The best of them all is, I think, that of Mira de Mescua, which is found in Vol. V. of the “Comedias Escogidas” (1653, 4to); but that of Milanes contains passages of very passionate poetry.

[198] “MandÓ el Rey prender Virgilios” (Romancero, 1550). It is among the very old ballads, and is full of the loyalty of its time. Virgil, it is well known, was treated, in the Middle Ages, sometimes as a knight, and sometimes as a wizard.

[199] Compare the ballads beginning, “Las Huestes de Don Rodrigo,” and “Despues que el Rey Don Rodrigo,” with the “CrÓnica del Rey Don Rodrigo y la Destruycion de EspaÑa” (AlcalÁ, 1587, fol., Capp. 238, 254). There is a stirring translation of the first by Lockhart, in his “Ancient Spanish Ballads,” (London, 1823, 4to, p. 5,)—a work of genius beyond any of the sort known to me in any language.

[200] Ortiz de ZuÑiga (Anales de Sevilla, Appendix, p. 831) gives this ballad, and says it had been printed two hundred years. If this be true, it is, no doubt, the oldest printed ballad in the language. But Ortiz is uncritical in such matters, like nearly all of his countrymen. The story of Garci Perez de Vargas is in the “CrÓnica General,” Parte IV., in the “CrÓnica de Fernando III.,” c. 48, etc., and in Mariana, Historia, Lib. XIII. c. 7.

[201] See Appendix (B), on the Romanceros.

[202] Sismondi, Hist. des FranÇais, Paris, 1821, 8vo, Tom. II. pp. 257-260.

[203] Montesinos and Durandarte figure so largely in Don Quixote’s visit to the cave of Montesinos, that all relating to them is to be found in the notes of Pellicer and Clemencin to Parte II. cap. 23, of the history of the mad knight.

[204] These ballads begin, “Estabase el Conde d’ Irlos,” which is the longest I know of; “Assentado esta Gayferos,” which is one of the best, and cited more than once by Cervantes; “Media noche era por hilo,” where the counting of time by the dripping of water is a proof of antiquity in the ballad itself; “A caÇa va el Emperador,” also cited repeatedly by Cervantes; and “O Belerma, O Belerma,” translated by M. G. Lewis; to which may be added, “Durandarte, Durandarte,” found in the Antwerp Romancero, and in the old Cancioneros Generales.

[205] Memorias para la PoesÍa EspaÑola, Sect. 528.

[206] The story of Bernardo is in the “CrÓnica General,” Parte III., beginning at f. 30, in the edition of 1604. But it must be almost entirely fabulous.

[207]

Los tiempos de mi prision

Tan aborrecida y larga,

Por momentos me lo dizen

Aquestas mis tristes canas.

Quando entre en este castillo,

Apenas entre con barbas,

Y agora por mis pecados

Las veo crecidas y blancas.

Que descuydo es este, hijo?

Como a vozes no te llama

La sangre que tienes mia,

A socorrer donde falta?

Sin duda que te detiene

La que de tu madre alcanÇas,

Que por ser de la del Rey

Juzgaras qual el mi causa.

Todos tres sois mis contrarios;

Que a un desdichado no basta

Que sus contrarios lo sean,

Sino sus propias entraÑas.

Todos los que aqui me tienen

Me cuentan de tus hazaÑas:

Si para tu padre no,

Dime para quien las guardas?

Aqui estoy en estros hierros,

Y pues dellos no me sacas,

Mal padre deuo de ser,

O mal hijo pues me faltas.

Perdoname, si te ofendo,

Que descanso en las palabras,

Que yo como viejo lloro,

Y tu como ausente callas.

Romancero General, 1602, f. 46.

But it was printed as early as 1593.

[208] This is evidently among the older ballads. The earliest printed copy of it that I know is to be found in the “Flor de Romances,” Novena Parte, (Madrid, 1597, 18mo, f. 45,) and the passage I have translated is very striking in the original:—

Cansadas ya las paredes

De guardar en tanto tiempo

A un hombre, que vieron moÇo

Y ya le ven cano y viejo.

Si ya sus culpas merecen,

Que sangre sea en su descuento,

Harta suya he derramado,

Y toda en servicio vuestro.

It is given a little differently by Duran.

[209] The ballad beginning “En Corte del casto Alfonso,” in the ballad-book of 1555, is taken from the “CrÓnica General,” (Parte III. ff. 32, 33, ed. 1604,) as the following passage, speaking of Bernardo’s first knowledge that his father was the Count of SaldaÑa, will show:—

Quando Bernaldo lo supo

PesÓle a gran demasia,

Tanto que dentro en el cuerpo

La sangre se le volvia.

Yendo para su posada

Muy grande llanto hacia,

VistiÓse paÑos de luto,

Y delante el Rey se iba.

El Rey quando asi le viÓ,

Desta suerte le decÍa:

Bernaldo, por aventura

Cobdicias la muerte mia?”

The Chronicle reads thus: “E el [Bernardo] quandol supo, que su padre era preso, pesol mucho de coraÇon, e bolbiosele la sangre en el cuerpo, e fuesse para su posada, faziendo el mayor duelo del mundo; e vistiÓse paÑos de duelo, e fuesse para el Rey Don Alfonso; e el Rey, quando lo vido, dixol: ‘Bernaldo, cobdiciades la muerte mia?’” It is plain enough, in this case, that the Chronicle is the original of the ballad; but it is very difficult, if not impossible, from the nature of the case, to show that any particular ballad was used in the composition of the Chronicle, because, we have undoubtedly none of the ballads in the form in which they existed when the Chronicle was compiled in the middle of the thirteenth century, and therefore a correspondence of phraseology like that just cited is not to be expected. Yet it would not be surprising, if some of these ballads on Bernardo, found in the Sixth Part of the “Flor de Romances,” (Toledo, 1594, 18mo,) which Pedro Flores tells us he collected far and wide from tradition, were known in the time of Alfonso the Wise, and were among the Cantares de Gesta to which he alludes. I would instance particularly the three beginning, “Contandole estaba un dia,” “Antesque barbas tuviesse,” and “Mal mis servicios pagaste.” The language of those ballads is, no doubt, chiefly that of the age of Charles V. and Philip II., but the thoughts and feelings are evidently much older.

[210] Among the ballads taken from the “CrÓnica General” is, I think, the one in the ballad-book of 1555, beginning “Preso esta Fernan Gonzalez,” though the Chronicle says (Parte III. f. 62, ed. 1604) that it was a Norman count who bribed the castellan, and the ballad says it was a Lombard. Another, which, like the two last, is very spirited, is found in the “Flor de Romances,” SÉptima Parte, (AlcalÁ, 1597, 18mo, f. 65,) beginning “El Conde Fernan Gonzalez,” and contains an account of one of his victories over Almanzor not told elsewhere, and therefore the more curious.

[211] The story of the Infantes de Lara is in the “CrÓnica General,” Parte III., and in the edition of 1604 begins at f. 74. I possess, also, a striking volume, containing forty plates, on their history, by Otto Vaenius, a scholar and artist, who died in 1634. It is entitled “Historia Septem Infantium de Lara” (Antverpiae, 1612, fol.); the same, no doubt, an imperfect copy of which Southey praises in his notes to the “Chronicle of the Cid” (p. 401). SepÚlveda (1551-84) has a good many ballads on the subject; the one I have partly translated in the text beginning,—

Quien es aquel caballero

Que tan gran traycion hacia?

Ruy Velasquez es de Lara,

Que À sus sobrinos vendia.

The corresponding passage of the Chronicle is at f. 78, ed. 1604.

[212] In the barbarous rhymed Latin poem, printed with great care by Sandoval, (Reyes de Castilla, Pamplona, 1615, f. 189, etc.,) and apparently written, as we have noticed, by some one who witnessed the siege of Almeria in 1147, we have the following lines:—

Ipse Rodericus, Mio Cid semper vocatus,

De quo cantatur, quod ab hostibus haud superatus,

Qui domuit Moros, comites quoque domuit nostros, etc.

These poems must, by the phrase Mio Cid, have been in Spanish; and, if so, could hardly have been any thing but ballads.

[213] Nic. Antonio (Bib. Nova, Tom. I. p. 684) gives 1612 as the date of the oldest Romancero del Cid. The oldest I possess is of Pamplona (1706, 18mo); but the Madrid edition, (1818, 18mo,) the Frankfort, (1827, 12mo,) and the collection in Duran, (Caballerescos, Madrid, 1832, 12mo, Tom. II. pp. 43-191,) are more complete. The most complete of all is that by Keller, (Stuttgard, 1840, 12mo,) and contains 154 ballads. But a few could be added even to this one.

[214] The ballads beginning, “Guarte, guarte, Rey Don Sancho,” and “De Zamora sale Dolfos,” are indebted to the “CrÓnica del Cid,” 1593, c. 61, 62. Others, especially those in SepÚlveda’s collection, show marks of other parts of the same chronicle, or of the “CrÓnica General,” Parte IV. But the whole amount of such indebtedness in the ballads of the Cid is small.

[215] The earliest place in which I have seen this ballad—evidently very old in its matÉriel—is “Flor de Romances,” Novena Parte, 1597, f. 133.

Cuydando Diego Laynez

En la mengua de su casa,

Fidalga, rica y antigua,

Antes de NuÑo y Abarca,

Y viendo que le fallecen

FuerÇas para la venganÇa,

Porque por sus luengos aÑos,

Por si no puede tomalla,

Y que el de Orgaz se passea

Seguro y libre en la plaÇa,

Sinque nadie se lo impida,

LoÇano en nombre y en gala.

Non puede dormir de noche,

Nin gustar de las viandas,

Nin alÇar del suelo los ojos,

Nin osa salir de su casa,

Nin fablar con sus amigos,

Antes les niega la fabla,

Temiendo no les ofenda

El aliento de su infamia.

The pun on the name of Count Lozano (Haughty or Proud) is of course not translated.

[216] This is a very old, as well as a very spirited, ballad. It occurs first in print in 1555; but “Durandarte, Durandarte,” found as early as 1511, is an obvious imitation of it, so that it was probably old and famous at that time. In the oldest copy now known it reads thus, but was afterwards changed. I omit the last lines, which seem to be an addition.

A fuera, a fuera, Rodrigo,

El soberbio Castellano!

Acordarte te debria

De aquel tiempo ya passado,

Quando fuiste caballero

En el altar de Santiago;

Quando el Rey fue tu padrino,

Tu Rodrigo el ahijado.

Mi padre te dio las armas,

Mi madre te dio el caballo,

Yo te calze las espuelas,

Porque fuesses mas honrado,

Que pensÉ casar contigo.

No lo quiso mi pecado;

Casaste con Ximena Gomez,

Hija del Conde LoÇano.

Con ella uviste dineros,

Conmigo uvieras estado.

Bien casaste, Rodrigo,

Muy mejor fueras casado;

Dexaste hija de Rey,

Por tomar la de su vasallo.

This was one of the most popular of the old ballads. It is often alluded to by the writers of the best age of Spanish literature; for example, by Cervantes, in “Persiles y Sigismunda,” (Lib. III. c. 21,) and was used by Guillen de Castro in his play on the Cid.

[217] “En lo que hubo Cid, no hay duda, ni menos Bernardo del Carpio; pero de que hicieron las hazaÑas que dicen, creo que hay muy grande.” (Parte I. c. 49.) This, indeed, is the good sense of the matter,—a point in which Cervantes rarely fails,—and it forms a strong contrast to the extravagant faith of those who, on the one side, consider the ballads good historical documents, as MÜller and Herder are disposed to do, and the sturdy incredulity of Masdeu, on the other, who denies that there ever was a Cid.

[218] See the fine ballad beginning “Si el cavallo vos han muerto,”—which first appears in the “Flor de Romances,” Octava Parte (AlcalÁ, 1597, f. 129). It is boldly translated by Lockhart.

[219] I refer to the ballad in the “Romancero del Cid” beginning “Llego Alvar FaÑez a Burgos,” with the letter following it,—“El vasallo desleale.” This trait in the Cid’s character is noticed by Diego Ximenez Ayllon, in his poem on that hero, 1579, where, having spoken of his being treated by the king with harshness,—“Tratado de su Rey con aspereza,”—the poet adds,—

Jamas le dio lugar su virtud alta

Que en su lealtad viniese alguna falta.

Canto I.

[220] On one of the occasions when Bernardo had been most foully and falsely treated by the king, he says,—

SeÑor, Rey sois, y haredes

A vuestro querer y guisa.

A king you are, and you must do,

In your own way, what pleases you.

And on another similar occasion, another ballad, he says to the king,—

De servir no os dejarÉ

Mientras que tenga la vida.

Nor shall I fail to serve your Grace

While life within me keeps its place.

[221] In the humorous ballad, “Tanta Zayda y Adalifa,” (first printed, Flor de Romances, Quinta Parte, Burgos, 1594, 18mo, f. 158,) we have the following:—

Renegaron de su ley

Los Romancistas de EspaÑa,

Y ofrecieronle a Mahoma

Las primicias de sus galas.

Dexaron los graves hechos

De su vencedora patria,

Y mendigan de la agena

Invenciones y patraÑas.

Like renegades to Christian faith,

These ballad-mongers vain

Have given to Mahound himself

The offerings due to Spain;

And left the record of brave deeds

Done by their sires of old,

To beg abroad, in heathen lands,

For fictions poor and cold.

GÓngora, too, attacked them in an amusing ballad,—“A mis SeÑores poetas,”—and they were defended in another, beginning “Porque, SeÑores poetas.”

[222] “Ocho Á ocho, diez Á diez,” and “Sale la estrella de Venus,” two of the ballads here referred to, are in the Romancero of 1593. Of the last there is a good translation in an excellent article on Spanish Poetry in the Edinburgh Review, Vol. XXXIX. p. 419.

[223] Among the fine ballads on Gazul are, “Por la plaza de San Juan,” and “Estando toda la corte.”

[224] For example, “Que es de mi contento,” “Plega Á Dios que si yo creo,” “Aquella morena,” “Madre, un cavallero,” “Mal ayan mis ojos,” “NiÑa, que vives,” etc.

[225] The oldest copy of this ballad or letra that I have seen is in the “Flor de Romances,” Sexta Parte, (1594, f. 27,) collected by Pedro Flores, from popular traditions, and of which a less perfect copy is given, by an oversight, in the Ninth Part of the same collection, 1597, f. 116. I have not translated the verses at the end, because they seem to be a poor gloss by a later hand and in a different measure. The ballad itself is as follows:—

RiÑo con Juanilla

Su hermana Miguela;

Palabras le dize,

Que mucho le duelan:

“Ayer en mantillas

Andauas pequeÑa,

Oy andas galana

Mas que otras donzellas.

Tu gozo es suspiros,

Tu cantar endechas;

Al alua madrugas,

Muy tarde te acuestas;

Quando estas labrando,

No se en que te piensas,

Al dechado miras,

Y los puntos yerras.

Dizenme que hazes

Amorosas seÑas:

Si madre lo sabe,

Aura cosas nueuas.

Clauara ventanas,

Cerrara las puertas;

Para que baylemos,

No dara licencia;

Mandara que tia

Nos lleue a la Yglesia,

Porque no nos hablen

Las amigas nuestras.

Quando fuera salga,

Dirale a la dueÑa,

Que con nuestros ojos

Tenga mucha cuenta;

Que mire quien passa,

Si miro a la reja,

Y qual de nosotras

Boluio la cabeÇa.

Por tus libertades

Sere yo sugeta;

Pagaremos justos

Lo que malos pecan.”

“Ay! Miguela hermana,

Que mal que sospechas!

Mis males presumes,

Y no los aciertas.

A Pedro, el de Juan,

Que se fue a la guerra,

Aficion le tuue,

Y escuche sus quexas;

Mas visto que es vario

Mediante el ausencia,

De su fe fingida

Ya no se me acuerda.

Fingida la llamo,

Porque, quien se ausenta,

Sin fuerÇa y con gusto,

No es bien que le quiera.”

“Ruegale tu a Dios

Que Pedro no buelua,”

Respondio burlando

Su hermana Miguela,

“Que el amor comprado

Con tan ricas prendas

No saldra del alma

Sin salir con ella.

Creciendo tus aÑos,

Creceran tus penas;

Y si no lo sabes,

Escucha esta letra:

Si eres niÑa y has amor,

Que haras quando mayor?”

Sexta Parte de Flor de Romances, Toledo, 1594, 18mo, f. 27.

[226] If we choose to strike more widely, and institute a comparison with the garrulous old Fabliaux, or with the overdone refinements of the Troubadours and Minnesingers, the result would be yet more in favor of the early Spanish ballads, which represent and embody the excited poetical feeling that filled the whole nation during that period when the Moorish power was gradually broken down by an enthusiasm that became at last irresistible, because, from the beginning, it was founded on a sense of loyalty and religious duty.

[227] See Appendix, B.

[228] In the code of the Partidas, (circa A. D. 1260,) good knights are directed to listen at their meals to the reading of “las hestorias de los grandes fechos de armas que los otros fecieran,” etc. (Parte II. TÍtulo XXI. Ley 20.) Few knights at that time could understand Latin, and the “hestorias” in Spanish must probably have been the Chronicle now to be mentioned, and the ballads or gestes on which it was, in part, founded.

[229] It is the opinion of Mondejar that the original title of the “CrÓnica de EspaÑa” was “Estoria de EspaÑa.” Memorias de Alfonso el Sabio, p. 464.

[230] The distinction Alfonso makes between ordering the materials to be collected by others (“mandamos ayuntar”) and composing or compiling the Chronicle himself (“composimos este libro”) seems to show that he was its author or compiler,—certainly that he claimed to be such. But there are different opinions on this point. Florian de Ocampo, the historian, who, in 1541, published in folio, at Zamora, the first edition of the Chronicle, says, in notes at the end of the Third and Fourth Parts, that some persons believe only the first three parts to have been written by Alfonso, and the fourth to have been compiled later; an opinion to which it is obvious that he himself inclines, though he says he will neither affirm nor deny any thing about the matter. Others have gone farther, and supposed the whole to have been compiled by several different persons. But to all this it may be replied,—1. That the Chronicle is more or less well ordered, and more or less well written, according to the materials used in its composition; and that the objections made to the looseness and want of finish in the Fourth Part apply also, in a good degree, to the Third; thus proving more than Florian de Ocampo intends, since he declares it to be certain (“sabemos por cierto”) that the first three parts were the work of Alfonso. 2. Alfonso declares, more than once, in his PrÓlogo, whose genuineness has been made sure by Mondejar, from the four best manuscripts, that his History comes down to his own times, (“fasta el nuestro tiempo,”)—which we reach only at the end of the Fourth Part,—treating the whole, throughout the PrÓlogo, as his own work. 3. There is strong internal evidence that he himself wrote the last part of the work, relating to his father; as, for instance, the beautiful account of the relations between St. Ferdinand and his mother, Berenguela (ed. 1541, f. 404); the solemn account of St. Ferdinand’s death, at the very end of the whole; and other passages between ff. 402 and 426. 4. His nephew Don John Manuel, who made an abridgment of the CrÓnica de EspaÑa, speaks of his uncle Alfonso the Wise as if he were its acknowledged author.

It should be borne in mind, also, that Mondejar says the edition of Florian de Ocampo is very corrupt and imperfect, omitting whole reigns in one instance; and the passages he cites from the old manuscripts of the entire work prove what he says. (Memorias, Lib. VII. capp. 15, 16.) The only other edition of the Chronicle, that of Valladolid, (fol., 1604,) is still worse. Indeed, it is, from the number of its gross errors, one of the worst printed books I have ever used.

[231] The statement referred to in the Chronicle, that it was written four hundred years after the time of Charlemagne, is, of course, a very loose one; for Alfonso was not born in 1210. But I think he would hardly have said, “It is now full four hundred years,” (ed. 1541, fol. 228,) if it had been full four hundred and fifty. From this it may be inferred that the Chronicle was composed before 1260. Other passages tend to the same conclusion. Conde, in his Preface to his “Árabes en EspaÑa,” notices the Arabic air of the Chronicle, which, however, seems to me to have been rather the air of its age throughout Europe.

[232] The account of Dido is worth reading, especially by those who have occasion to see her story referred to in the Spanish poets, as it is by Ercilla and Lope de Vega, in a way quite unintelligible to those who know only the Roman version of it as given by Virgil. It is found in the CrÓnica de EspaÑa, (Parte I. c. 51-57,) and ends with a very heroical epistle of the queen to Æneas;—the Spanish view taken of the whole matter being in substance that which is taken by Justin, very briefly, in his “Universal History,” Lib. XVIII. c. 4-6.

[233] CrÓnica de EspaÑa, Parte III. c. 1, 2.

[234] Ibid., Capp. 10 and 13.

[235] Ibid., Capp. 18, etc.

[236] Ibid., Cap. 20.

[237] Ibid., Cap. 10.

[238] Ibid., Cap. 10, with the ballad made out of it, beginning “Reynando el Rey Alfonso.”

[239] Ibid., Capp. 11 and 19. A drama by Rodrigo de Herrera, entitled “Voto de Santiago y Batalla de Clavijo,” (Comedias Escogidas, Tom. XXXIII., 1670, 4to,) is founded on the first of these passages, but has not used its good material with much skill.

[240] The separate history of the Cid begins with the beginning of Part Fourth, f. 279, and ends on f. 346, ed. 1541.

[241] These Cantares and Cantares de Gesta are referred to in Parte III. c. 10 and 13.

[242] I cannot help feeling, as I read it, that the beautiful story of the Infantes de Lara, as told in this Third Part of the CrÓnica de EspaÑa, beginning f. 261 of the edition of 1541, is from a separate and older chronicle; probably from some old monkish Latin legend. But it can be traced no farther back than to this passage in the CrÓnica de EspaÑa, on which rests every thing relating to the Children of Lara in Spanish poetry and romance.

[243] “La PÉrdida de EspaÑa” is the common name, in the older writers, for the Moorish conquest.

[244] “Los Bienes que tiene EspaÑa” (ed. 1541, f. 202);—and, on the other side of the leaf, the passage that follows, called “El Llanto de EspaÑa.”

[245] The original, in both the printed editions, is tierras, though it should plainly be sierras from the context; but this is noticed as only one of the thousand gross typographical errors with which these editions are deformed.

[246] This remark will apply to many passages in the Third Part of the Chronicle of Spain, but to none, perhaps, so strikingly as to the stories of Bernardo del Carpio and the Infantes de Lara, large portions of which may be found almost verbatim in the ballads. I will now refer only to the following:—1. On Bernardo del Carpio, the ballads beginning, “El Conde Don Sancho Diaz,” “En corte del Casto Alfonso,” “Estando en paz y sosiego,” “Andados treinta y seis aÑos,” and “En gran pesar y tristeza.” 2. On the Infantes de Lara, the ballads beginning, “A Calatrava la Vieja,” which was evidently arranged for singing at a puppet-show or some such exhibition, “Llegados son los Infantes,” “Quien es aquel caballero,” and “Ruy Velasquez de Lara.” All these are found in the older collections of ballads; those, I mean, printed before 1560; and it is worthy of particular notice, that this same General Chronicle makes especial mention of Cantares de Gesta about Bernardo del Carpio that were known and popular when it was itself compiled, in the thirteenth century.

[247] See the CrÓnica General de EspaÑa, ed. 1541, f. 227, a.

[248] CrÓnica Gen., ed. 1541, f. 236. a.

[249] This is the opinion of Southey, in the Preface to his “Chronicle of the Cid,” which, though one of the most amusing and instructive books, in relation to the manners and feelings of the Middle Ages, that is to be found in the English language, is not quite so wholly a translation from its three Spanish sources as it claims to be. The opinion of Huber on the same point is like that of Southey.

[250] Both the chronicles cite for their authorities the Archbishop Rodrigo of Toledo, and the Bishop Lucas of Tuy, in Galicia, (Cid, Cap. 293; General, 1604, f. 313. b, and elsewhere,) and represent them as dead. Now the first died in 1247, and the last in 1250; and as the General Chronicle of Alfonso X. was necessarily written between 1252 and 1282, and probably written soon after 1252, it is not to be supposed, either that the Chronicle of the Cid, or any other chronicle in the Spanish language which the General Chronicle could use, was already compiled. But there are passages in the Chronicle of the Cid which prove it to be later than the General Chronicle. For instance, in Chapters 294, 295, and 296 of the Chronicle of the Cid, there is a correction of an error of two years in the General Chronicle’s chronology. And again, in the General Chronicle, (ed. 1604, f. 313. b,) after relating the burial of the Cid, by the bishops, in a vault, and dressed in his clothes, (“vestido con sus paÑos,”) it adds, “And thus he was laid where he still lies” (“E assi yaze ay do agora yaze”); but in the Chronicle of the Cid, the words in Italics are stricken out, and we have instead, “And there he remained a long time, till King Alfonso came to reign (“E hy estudo muy grand tiempo, fasta que vino el Rey Don Alfonso a reynar”); after which words we have an account of the translation of his body to another tomb, by Alfonso the Wise, the son of Ferdinand. But, besides that this is plainly an addition to the Chronicle of the Cid, made later than the account given in the General Chronicle, there is a little clumsiness about it that renders it quite curious; for, in speaking of St. Ferdinand with the usual formulary, as “he who conquered Andalusia, and the city of Jaen, and many other royal towns and castles,” it adds, “As the history will relate to you farther on (“Segun que adelante vos lo contarÁ la historia”). Now the history of the Cid has nothing to do with the history of St. Ferdinand, who lived a hundred years after him, and is never again mentioned in this Chronicle; and therefore the little passage containing the account of the translation of the body of the Cid, in the thirteenth century, to its next resting-place was probably cut out from some other chronicle which contained the history of St. Ferdinand, as well as that of the Cid. My own conjecture is, that it was cut out from the abridgment of the General Chronicle of Alfonso the Wise made by his nephew Don John Manuel, who would be quite likely to insert an addition so honorable to his uncle, when he came to the point of the Cid’s interment; an interment of which the General Chronicle’s account had ceased to be the true one. Cap. 291.

It is a curious fact, though not one of consequence to this inquiry, that the remains of the Cid, besides their removal by Alfonso the Wise, in 1272, were successively transferred to different places, in 1447, in 1541, again in the beginning of the eighteenth century, and again, by the bad taste of the French General Thibaut, in 1809 or 1810, until, at last, in 1824, they were restored to their original sanctuary in San Pedro de Cardenas. Semanario Pintoresco, 1838, p. 648.

[251] If it be asked what were the authorities on which the portion of the CrÓnica General relating to the Cid relies for its materials, I should answer:—1. Those cited in the PrÓlogo to the whole work by Alfonso himself, some of which are again cited when speaking of the Cid. Among these, the most important is the Archbishop Rodrigo’s “Historia Gothica.” (See Nic. Ant., Bibl. Vet., Lib. VIII. c. 2, § 28.) 2. It is probable there were Arabic records of the Cid, as a life of him, or part of a life of him, by a nephew of Alfaxati, the converted Moor, is referred to in the Chronicle itself, Cap. 278, and in CrÓn. Gen., 1541, f. 359. b. But there is nothing in the Chronicle that sounds like Arabic, except the “Lament for the Fall of Valencia,” beginning “Valencia, Valencia, vinieron sobre ti muchos quebrantos,” which is on f. 329. a, and again, poorly amplified, on f. 329. b, but out of which has been made the fine ballad, “Apretada esta Valencia,” which can be traced back to the ballad-book printed by Martin Nucio, at Antwerp, 1550, though, I believe, no farther. If, therefore, there be any thing in the Chronicle of the Cid taken from documents in the Arabic language, such documents were written by Christians, or a Christian character was impressed on the facts taken from them.[*] 3. It has been suggested by the Spanish translators of Bouterwek, (p. 255,) that the Chronicle of the Cid in Spanish is substantially taken from the “Historia Roderici Didaci,” published by Risco, in “La Castilla y el mas Famoso Castellano” (1792, App., pp. xvi.-lx.). But the Latin, though curious and valuable, is a meagre compendium, in which I find nothing of the attractive stories and adventures of the Spanish, but occasionally something to contradict or discredit them. 4. the old “Poem of the Cid” was, no doubt, used, and used freely, by the chronicler, whoever he was, though he never alludes to it. This has been noticed by Sanchez, (Tom. I. pp. 226-228,) and must be noticed again, in note 28, where I shall give an extract from the Chronicle. I add here only, that it is clearly the Poem that was used by the Chronicle, and not the Chronicle that was used by the Poem.

[*] Since writing this note, I learn that my friend Don Pascual de Gayangos possesses an Arabic chronicle that throws much light on this Spanish chronicle and on the life of the Cid.

[252] Prohemio. The good abbot considers the Chronicle to have been written in the lifetime of the Cid, i. e. before A. D. 1100, and yet it refers to the Archbishop of Toledo and the Bishop of Tuy, who were of the thirteenth century. Moreover, he speaks of the intelligent interest the Prince Ferdinand took in it; but Oviedo, in his Dialogue on Cardinal Ximenes, says the young prince was only eight years and some months old when he gave the order. Quinquagena, MS.

[253] Sometimes it is necessary earlier to allude to a portion of the Cid’s history, and then it is added, “As we shall relate farther on”; so that it is quite certain the Cid’s history was originally regarded as a necessary portion of the General Chronicle. (CrÓnica General, ed. 1604, Tercera Parte, f. 92. b.) When, therefore, we come to the Fourth Part, where it really belongs, we have, first, a chapter on the accession of Ferdinand the Great, and then the history of the Cid connected with that of the reigns of Ferdinand, Sancho II., and Alfonso VI.; but the whole is so truly an integral part of the General Chronicle and not a separate chronicle of the Cid, that, when it was taken out to serve as a separate chronicle, it was taken out as the three reigns of the three sovereigns above mentioned, beginning with one chapter that goes back ten years before the Cid was born, and ending with five chapters that run forward ten years after his death; while, at the conclusion of the whole, is a sort of colophon, apologizing (ChrÓnica del Cid, Burgos, 1593, fol., f. 277) for the fact that it is so much a chronicle of these three kings, rather than a mere chronicle of the Cid. This, with the peculiar character of the differences between the two that have been already noticed, has satisfied me that the Chronicle of the Cid was taken from the General Chronicle.

[254] Masdeu (Historia CrÍtica de EspaÑa, Madrid, 1783-1805, 4to, Tom. XX.) would have us believe that the whole is a fable; but this demands too much credulity. The question is discussed with acuteness and learning in “Jos. Aschbach de Cidi HistoriÆ Fontibus Dissertatio,” (BonnÆ, 4to, 1843, pp. 5, etc.,) but little can be settled about individual facts.

[255] The portion of the Chronicle of the Cid from which I have taken the extract is among the portions which least resemble the corresponding parts of the General Chronicle. It is in Chap. 91; and from Chap. 88 to Chap. 93 there is a good deal not found in the parallel passages in the General Chronicle, (1604, f. 224, etc.,) though, where they do resemble each other, the phraseology is still frequently identical. The particular passage I have selected was, I think, suggested by the first lines that remain to us of the “Poema del Cid”; and perhaps, if we had the preceding lines of that poem, we should be able to account for yet more of the additions to the Chronicle in this passage. The lines I refer to are as follows:—

De los sos oios tan fuertes · mientre lorando

Tornaba la cabeza, · e estabalos catando.

Vio puertas abiertas · e uzos sin caÑados,

AlcÁndaras vacias, · sin pielles e sin mantos,

E sin falcones e sin · adtores mudados.

SospirÓ mio Cid, ca · mucho avie grandes cuidados.

Other passages are quite as obviously taken from the poem.

[256] It sounds much like the “Partidas,” beginning, “Los sabios antiguos que fueron en los tiempos primeros, y fallaron los saberes y las otras cosas, tovieron que menguarien en sus fechos y en su lealtad, si tambien no lo quisiessen para los otros que avien de venir, como para si mesmos o por los otros que eran en su tiempo,” etc. But such introductions are common in other early chronicles, and in other old Spanish books.

[257] “ChrÓnica del muy Esclarecido PrÍncipe y Rey D. Alfonso, el que fue par de Emperador, y hizo el Libro de las Siete Partidas, y ansimismo al fin deste Libro va encorporada la CrÓnica del Rey D. Sancho el Bravo,” etc., Valladolid, 1554, folio; to which should be added “CrÓnica del muy Valeroso Rey D. Fernando, Visnieto del Santo Rey D. Fernando,” etc., Valladolid, 1554, folio.

[258] All this may be found abundantly discussed in the “Memorias de Alfonso el Sabio,” by the Marques de Mondejar, pp. 569-635. Clemencin, however, still attributes the Chronicle to Fernan Sanchez de Tovar. Mem. de la Acad. de Historia, Tom. VI. p. 451.

[259] There is an edition of this Chronicle (Valladolid, 1551, folio) better than the old editions of such Spanish books commonly are; but the best is that of Madrid, 1787, 4to, edited by CerdÁ y Rico, and published under the auspices of the Spanish Academy of History.

[260] The phrase is, “MandÓ Á Juan NuÑez de Villaizan, Alguacil de la su Casa, que la ficiese trasladar en Pergaminos, e fizola trasladar, et escribiÓla Ruy Martinez de Medina de Rioseco,” etc. See Preface.

[261] In Cap. 340 and elsewhere.

[262] Ed. 1787, p. 3.

[263] Ed. 1787, p. 80.

[264] For the Life of Ayala, see Nic. Antonio, Bib. Vet., Lib. X. c. 1.

[265] The whole account in Froissart is worth reading, especially in Lord Berners’s translation, (London, 1812, 4to, Vol. I. c. 231, etc.,) as an illustration of Ayala.

[266] See the passage in which Mariana gives an account of the battle. Historia, Lib. XVII. c. 10.

[267] Generaciones y Semblanzas, Cap. 7, Madrid, 1775, 4to, p. 222.

[268] It is probable Ayala translated, or caused to be translated, all these books. At least, such has been the impression; and the mention of Isidore of Seville among the authors “made known” seems to justify it, for, as a Spaniard of great fame, St. Isidore must always have been known in Spain in every other way, except by a translation into Spanish. See, also, the Preface to the edition of Boccaccio, CaÍda de PrÍncipes, 1495, in Fr. Mendez, TypografÍa EspaÑola, Madrid, 1796, 4to, p. 202.

[269] The first edition of Ayala’s Chronicles is of Seville, 1495, folio, but it seems to have been printed from a MS. that did not contain the entire series. The best edition is that published under the auspices of the Academy of History, by D. Eugenio de Llaguno Amirola, its secretary (Madrid, 1779, 2 tom. 4to). That Ayala was the authorized chronicler of Castile is apparent from the whole tone of his work, and is directly asserted in an old MS. of a part of it, cited by Bayer in his notes to N. Antonio, Bib. Vet., Lib. X. cap. 1, num. 10, n. 1.

[270] There are about a dozen ballads on the subject of Don Pedro, of which the best, I think, are those beginning, “DoÑa Blanca esta en Sidonia,” “En un retrete en que apenas,” “No contento el Rey D. Pedro,” and “DoÑa Maria de Padilla,” the last of which is in the Saragossa Cancionero of 1550, Parte II. f. 46.

[271] See the CrÓnica de Don Pedro, Ann. 1353, Capp. 4, 5, 11, 12, 14, 21; Ann. 1354, Capp. 19, 21; Ann. 1358, Capp. 2 and 3; and Ann. 1361, Cap. 3.

[272] The fairness of Ayala in regard to Don Pedro has been questioned, and, from his relations to that monarch, may naturally be suspected;—a point on which Mariana touches, (Historia, Lib. XVII. c. 10,) without settling it, but one of some little consequence in Spanish literary history, where the character of Don Pedro often appears connected with poetry and the drama. The first person who attacked Ayala was, I believe, Pedro de Gracia Dei, a courtier in the time of Ferdinand and Isabella and in that of Charles V. He was King-at-Arms and Chronicler to the Catholic sovereigns, and I have, in manuscript, a collection of his professional coplas on the lineages and arms of the principal families of Spain, and on the general history of the country;—short poems, worthless as verse, and sneered at by Argote de Molina, in the Preface to his “Nobleza del Andaluzia,” (1588,) for the imperfect knowledge their author had of the subjects on which he treated. His defence of Don Pedro is not better. It is found in the Seminario Erudito, (Madrid, 1790, Tom. XXVIII. and XXIX.,) with additions by a later hand, probably Diego de Castilla, Dean of Toledo, who, I believe, was one of Don Pedro’s descendants. It cites no sufficient authorities for the averments which it makes about events that happened a century and a half earlier, and on which, therefore, it was unsuitable to trust the voice of tradition. Francisco de Castilla, who certainly had blood of Don Pedro in his veins, followed in the same track, and speaks, in his “Pratica de las Virtudes,” (ÇaragoÇa, 1552, 4to, fol. 28,) of the monarch and of Ayala as

El gran rey Don Pedro, quel vulgo reprueva

Por selle enemigo, quien hizo su historia, etc.

All this, however, produced little effect. But, in process of time, books were written upon the question;—the “Apologia del Rey Don Pedro,” by Ledo del Pozo, (Madrid, folio, s. a.,) and “El Rey Don Pedro defendido,” (Madrid, 1648, 4to,) by Vera y Figueroa, the diplomatist of the reign of Philip IV.; works intended, apparently, only to flatter the pretensions of royalty, but whose consequences we shall find when we come to the “Valiente Justiciero” of Moreto, Calderon’s “MÉdico de su Honra,” and similar poetical delineations of Pedro’s character in the seventeenth century. The ballads, however, it should be noticed, are almost always true to the view of Pedro given by Ayala;—the most striking exception that I remember being the admirable ballad beginning “A los pies de Don Enrique,” Quinta Parte de Flor de Romances, recopilado por Sebastian Velez de Guevara, Burgos, 1594, 18mo.

[273] The first edition of the “CrÓnica del SeÑor Rey D. Juan, segundo de este Nombre,” was printed at LogroÑo, (1517, fol.,) and is the most correct of the old editions that I have used. The best of all, however, is the beautiful one printed at Valencia, by Monfort, in 1779, folio, to which may be added an Appendix by P. Fr. Liciniano Saez, Madrid, 1786, folio.

[274] See his PrÓlogo, in the edition of 1779, p. xix., and Galindez de Carvajal, Prefacion, p. 19.

[275] He lived as late as 1444; for he is mentioned more than once in that year, in the Chronicle. See Ann. 1444, Capp. 14, 15.

[276] Prefacion de Carvajal.

[277] Fernan Gomez de Cibdareal, physician to John II., Centon Epistolario, Madrid, 1775, 4to, Epist. 23 and 74; a work, however, whose genuineness I shall be obliged to question hereafter.

[278] Prefacion de Carvajal. Poetry of Rodriguez del Padron is found in the Cancioneros Generales; and of Diego de Valera there is “La CrÓnica de EspaÑa abreviada por Mandado de la muy Poderosa SeÑora DoÑa Isabel, Reyna de Castilla,” made in 1481, when its author was sixty-nine years old, and printed, 1482, 1493, 1495, etc.,—a chronicle of considerable merit for its style, and of some value, notwithstanding it is a compendium, for the original materials it contains towards the end, such as two eloquent and bold letters by Valera himself to John II., on the troubles of the time, and an account of what he personally saw of the last days of the Great Constable, (Parte IV. c. 125,)—the last and the most important chapter in the book. (Mendez, p. 138. Capmany, Eloquencia EspaÑola, Madrid, 1786, 8vo, Tom. I. p. 180.) It should be added, that the editor of the Chronicle of John II. (1779) thinks Valera was the person who finally arranged and settled that Chronicle; but the opinion of Carvajal seems the more probable. Certainly, I hope Valera had no hand in the praise bestowed on himself in the excellent story told of him in the Chronicle, (Ann. 1437, Cap. 3,) showing how, in presence of the king of Bohemia, at Prague, he defended the honor of his liege lord, the king of Castile. A treatise of a few pages on Providence, by Diego de Valera, printed in the edition of the “Vision Deleytable,” of 1489, and reprinted, almost entire, in the first volume of Capmany’s “Eloquencia EspaÑola,” is worth reading, as a specimen of the grave didactic prose of the fifteenth century. A Chronicle of Ferdinand and Isabella, by Valera, which may well have been the best and most important of his works, has never been printed. GerÓnimo Gudiel, Compendio de Algunas Historias de EspaÑa, AlcalÁ, 1577, fol., f. 101. b.

[279] From the phraseology of Carvajal, (p. 20,) we may infer that Fernan Perez de Guzman is chiefly responsible for the style and general character of the Chronicle. “CogiÓ de cada uno lo que le pareciÓ mas probable, y abreviÓ algunas cosas, tomando la sustancia dellas; porque asÍ creyÓ que convenia.” He adds, that this Chronicle was much valued by Isabella, who was the daughter of John II.

[280] Anno 1451, Cap. 2, and Anno 1453, Cap. 2. See, also, some remarks on the author of this Chronicle by the editor of the “CrÓnica de Alvaro de Luna,” (Madrid, 1784, 4to,) PrÓlogo, pp. xxv.-xxviii.

[281] For example, 1406, Cap. 6, etc.; 1430, Cap. 2; 1441, Cap. 30; 1453, Cap. 3.

[282] “Es sin duda la mas puntual i la mas segura de quantas se conservan antiguas.” Mondejar, Noticia y Juicio de los mas Principales Historiadores de EspaÑa, Madrid, 1746, fol., p. 112.

[283] Anno 1453, Cap. 4.

[284] Anno 1406, Capp. 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 15; Anno 1407, Capp. 6, 7, 8, etc.

[285] This Chronicle affords us, in one place that I have noticed,—probably not the only one,—a curious instance of the way in which the whole class of Spanish chronicles to which it belongs were sometimes used in the poetry of the old ballads we so much admire. The instance to which I refer is to be found in the account of the leading event of the time, the violent death of the Great Constable Alvaro de Luna, which the fine ballad beginning “Un Miercoles de maÑana” takes plainly from this Chronicle of John II. The two are worth comparing throughout, and their coincidences can be properly felt only when this is done; but a little specimen may serve to show how curious is the whole.

The Chronicle (Anno 1453, Cap. 2) has it as follows:—“E vidÓ a Barrasa, Caballerizo del Principe, e llamÓle É dixÓle: ‘Ven acÁ, Barrasa, tu estas aqui mirando la muerte que me dan. Yo te ruego, que digas al Principe mi SeÑor, que dÉ mejor gualardon a sus criados, quel Rey mi SeÑor mandÓ dar Á mi.’”

The ballad, which is cited as anonymous by Duran, but is found in SepÚlveda’s Romances, etc., 1584, (f. 204,) though not in the edition of 1551, gives the same striking circumstance, a little amplified, in these words:—

Y vido estar a Barrasa,

Que al Principe le servia,

De ser su cavallerizo,

Y vino a ver aquel dia

A executar la justicia,

Que el maestre recebia:

“Ven aca, hermano Barrasa,

Di al Principe por tu vida,

Que de mejor galardon

A quien sirve a su seÑoria,

Que no el, que el Rey mi SeÑor

Me ha mandado dar este dia.”

So near do the old Spanish chronicles often come to being poetry, and so near do the old Spanish ballads often come to being history. But the Chronicle of John II. is, I think, the last to which this remark can be applied.

If I felt sure of the genuineness of the “Centon Epistolario” of Gomez de Cibdareal, I should here cite the one hundred and third Letter as the material from which the Chronicle’s account was constructed.

[286] When the first edition of Castillo’s Chronicle was published I do not know. It is treated as if still only in manuscript by Mondejar in 1746 (Advertencias, p. 112); by Bayer, in his notes to Nic. Antonio, (Bib. Vetus, Vol. II. p. 349,) which, though written a little earlier, were published in 1788; and by Ochoa, in the notes to the inedited poems of the Marquis of Santillana, (Paris, 1844, 8vo, p. 397,) and in his “Manuscritos EspaÑoles” (1844, p. 92, etc.). The very good edition, however, prepared by Josef Miguel de Flores, published in Madrid, by Sancha, (1787, 4to,) as a part of the Academy’s collection, is announced, on its title-page, as the second. If these learned men have all been mistaken on such a point, it is very strange.

[287] For the use of a manuscript copy of Palencia’s Chronicle I am indebted to my friend, W. H. Prescott, Esq., who notices it among the materials for his “Ferdinand and Isabella,” (Vol. I. p. 136, Amer. ed.,) with his accustomed acuteness. A full life of Palencia is to be found in Juan Pellicer, Bib. de Traductores, (Madrid, 1778, 4to,) Second Part, pp. 7-12.

[288] I owe my knowledge of this manuscript, also, to my friend Mr. Prescott, whose copy I have used. It consists of one hundred and forty-four chapters, and the credulity and bigotry of its author, as well as his better qualities, may be seen in his accounts of the Sicilian Vespers, (Cap. 193,) of the Canary Islands, (Cap. 64,) of the earthquake of 1504, (Cap. 200,) and of the election of Leo X. (Cap. 239). Of his prejudice and partiality, his version of the bold visit of the great Marquis of Cadiz to Isabella, (Cap. 29,) when compared with Mr. Prescott’s notice of it, (Part I. Chap. 6,) will give an idea; and of his intolerance, the chapters (110-114) about the Jews afford proof even beyond what might be expected from his age. There is an imperfect article about Bernaldez in N. Antonio, Bib. Nov., but the best materials for his life are in the egotism of his own Chronicle.

[289] The chapters about Columbus are 118-131. The account of Columbus’s visit to him is in Cap. 131, and that of the manuscripts intrusted to him is in Cap. 123. He says, that, when Columbus came to court in 1496, he was dressed as a Franciscan monk, and wore the cord por devocion. He cites Sir John Mandeville’s Travels, and seems to have read them (Cap. 123); a fact of some significance, when we bear in mind his connection with Columbus.

[290] A notice of him is prefixed to his “Claros Varones” (Madrid, 1775, 4to); but it is not much. We know from himself that he was an old man in 1490.

[291] The first edition of his Chronicle, published by an accident, as if it were the work of the famous Antonio de Lebrija, appeared in 1565, at Valladolid. But the error was soon discovered, and in 1567 it was printed anew, at Saragossa, with its true author’s name. The only other edition of it, and by far the best of the three, is the beautiful one, Valencia, 1780, folio. See the PrÓlogo to this edition for the mistake by which Pulgar’s Chronicle was attributed to Lebrija.

[292] Read, for instance, the long speech of Gomez Manrique to the inhabitants of Toledo. (Parte II. c. 79.) It is one of the best, and has a good deal of merit as an oratorical composition, though its Roman tone is misplaced in such a chronicle. It is a mistake, however, in the publisher of the edition of 1780 to suppose that Pulgar first introduced these formal speeches into the Spanish. They occur, as has been already observed, in the Chronicles of Ayala, eighty or ninety years earlier.

[293] “Indicio harto probable de que falleciÓ Ántes de la toma de Granada,” says Martinez de la Rosa, “Hernan Perez del Pulgar, el de las HazaÑas.” Madrid, 1834, 8vo, p. 229.

[294] This important document, which does Pulgar some honor as a statesman, is to be found at length in the Seminario Erudito, Madrid, 1788, Tom. XII. pp. 57-144.

[295] Some account of the Passo Honroso is to be found among the Memorabilia of the time in the “CrÓnica de Juan el IIº,” (ad Ann. 1433, Cap. 5,) and in Zurita, “Anales de Aragon” (Lib. XIV. c. 22). The book itself, “El Passo Honroso,” was prepared on the spot, at Orbigo, by Delena, one of the authorized scribes of John II.; and was abridged by Fr. Juan de Pineda, and published at Salamanca, in 1588, and again at Madrid, under the auspices of the Academy of History, in 1783 (4to). Large portions of the original are preserved in it verbatim, as in sections 1, 4, 7, 14, 74, 75, etc. In other parts, it seems to have been disfigured by Pineda. (Pellicer, note to Don Quixote, Parte I. c. 49.) The poem of “Esvero y Almedora,” in twelve cantos, by D. Juan MarÍa Maury, (Paris, 1840, 12mo,) is founded on the adventures recorded in this Chronicle, and so is the “Passo Honroso,” by Don Ángel de Saavedra, Duque de Rivas, in four cantos, in the second volume of his Works (Madrid, 1820-21, 2 tom. 12mo).

[296] See Sections 23 and 64; and for a curious vow made by one of the wounded knights, that he would never again make love to nuns as he had done, see Sect. 25.

[297] Don Quixote makes precisely such a use of the Passo Honroso as might be expected from the perverse acuteness so often shown by madmen,—one of the many instances in which we see Cervantes’s nice observation of the workings of human nature. Parte I. c. 49.

[298] Take the years immediately about 1434, in which the Passo Honroso occurred, and we find four or five instances. (CrÓnica de Juan el IIº, 1433, Cap. 2; 1434, Cap. 4; 1435, Capp. 3 and 8; 1436, Cap. 4.) Indeed, the Chronicle is full of them; and in several, the Great Constable Alvaro de Luna figures.

[299] The “Seguro de Tordesillas” was first printed at Milan, 1611; but the only other edition, that of Madrid, 1784, (4to,) is much better.

[300] “Nos desnaturamos,” “We falsify our natures,” is the striking old Castilian phrase used by the principal personages on this occasion, and, among the rest, by the Constable Alvaro de Luna, to signify that they are not, for the time being, bound to obey even the king. Seguro, Cap. 3.

[301] See CrÓnica de Juan el IIº, 1440-41 and 1444, Cap. 3. Well might Manrique, in his beautiful Coplas on the instability of fortune break forth,—

Que se hizo el Rey Don Juan?

Los Infantes de Aragon,

Que se hizieron?

Que fue de tanto galan,

Que fue de tanta invencion,

Como truxeron?

Luis de Aranda’s commentary on this passage is good, and well illustrates the old Chronicle;—a rare circumstance in such commentaries on Spanish poetry.

[302] Pulgar (Claros Varones de Castilla, Madrid, 1775, 4to, TÍtulo 3) gives a beautiful character of him.

[303] The “CrÓnica de Don Pero NiÑo” was cited early and often, as containing important materials for the history of the reign of Henry III., but was not printed until it was edited by Don Eugenio de Llaguno Amirola (Madrid, 1782, 4to); who, however, has omitted a good deal of what he calls “fÁbulas caballerescas.” Instances of such omissions occur in Parte I. c. 15, Parte II. c. 18, 40, etc., and I cannot but think Don Eugenio would have done better to print the whole; especially the whole of what he says he found in the part which he calls “La CrÓnica de los Reyes de Inglaterra.”

[304] See Parte I. c. 4.

[305] Parte I. c. 14, 15.

[306] Parte II. c. 1-14.

[307] Parte II. c. 16-40.

[308] Parte III. c. 11, etc.

[309] Parte II. c. 31, 36.

[310] Parte III. c. 3-5. The love of Pero NiÑo for the lady Beatrice comes, also, into the poetry of the time; for he employed Villasandino, a poet of the age of Henry III. and John II., to write verses for him, addressed to her. See Castro, Bibl. Esp., Tom. I. pp. 271 and 274.

[311] The “CrÓnica de Don Alvaro de Luna” was first printed at Milan, 1546, (folio,) by one of the Constable’s descendants, but, notwithstanding its value and interest, only one edition has been published since,—that by Flores, the diligent Secretary of the Academy of History (Madrid, 1784, 4to). “Privado del Rey” was the common style of Alvaro de Luna;—“Tan privado,” as Manrique calls him;—a word which almost became English, for Lord Bacon, in his twenty-seventh Essay, says, “The modern languages give unto such persons the names of favorites or privadoes.”

[312] TÍt. 91-95, with the curious piece of poetry by the court poet, Juan de Mena, on the wound of the Constable during the siege.

[313] TÍt. 68.

[314] TÍt. 74, etc.

[315] TÍt. 127, 128. Some of the details—the Constable’s composed countenance and manner, as he rode on his mule to the place of death, and the awful silence of the multitude that preceded his execution, with the universal sob that followed it—are admirably set forth, and show, I think, that the author witnessed what he so well describes.

[316] The mistake between the two Pulgars—one called Hernan Perez del Pulgar, and the other Fernando del Pulgar—seems to have been made while they were both alive. At least, I so infer from the following good-humored passage in a letter from the latter to his correspondent, Pedro de Toledo: “E pues quereis saber como me aveis de llamar, sabed, SeÑor, que me llaman Fernando, e me llamaban e llamaran Fernando, e si me dan el Maestrazgo de Santiago, tambien Fernando,” etc. (Letra XII., Madrid, 1775, 4to, p. 153.) For the mistakes made concerning them in more modern times, see Nic. Antonio, (Bib. Nova, Tom. I. p. 387,) who seems to be sadly confused about the whole matter.

[317] This dull old anonymous Chronicle is the “CrÓnica del Gran Capitan Gonzalo Fernandez de CÓrdoba y Aguilar, en la qual se contienen las dos Conquistas del Reino de Napoles,” etc., (Sevilla, 1580, fol.,)—which does not yet seem to be the first edition, because, in the licencia, it is said to be printed, “porque hay falta de ellas.” It contains some of the family documents that are found in Pulgar’s account of him, and was reprinted at least twice afterwards, viz., Sevilla, 1582, and AlcalÁ, 1584.

[318] Pulgar was permitted by his admiring sovereigns to have his burial-place where he knelt when he affixed the Ave Maria to the door of the mosque, and his descendants still preserve his tomb there with becoming reverence, and still occupy the most distinguished place in the choir of the cathedral, which was originally granted to him and to his heirs male in right line. (AlcÁntara, Historia de Granada, Granada, 1846, 8vo, Tom. IV., p. 102; and the curious documents collected by Martinez de la Rosa in his “Hernan Perez del Pulgar,” pp. 279-283, for which see next note.) The oldest play known to me on the subject of Hernan Perez del Pulgar’s achievement is “El Cerco de Santa Fe,” in the first volume of Lope de Vega’s “Comedias” (Valladolid, 1604, 4to). But the one commonly represented is by an unknown author, and founded on Lope’s. It is called “El Triunfo del Ave Maria,” and is said to be “de un Ingenio de este Corte,” dating probably from the reign of Philip IV. My copy of it is printed in 1793. Martinez de la Rosa speaks of seeing it, and of the strong impression it produced on his youthful imagination.

[319] This Life of the Great Captain, by Pulgar, was printed at Seville, by Cromberger, in 1527; but only one copy of this edition—the one in the possession of the Royal Spanish Academy—is now known to exist. A reprint was made from it at Madrid, entitled “Hernan Perez del Pulgar,” 1834, 8vo, edited by D. Fr. Martinez de la Rosa, with a pleasant Life of Pulgar and valuable notes, so that we now have this very curious little book in an agreeable form for reading,—thanks to the zeal and persevering literary curiosity of the distinguished Spanish statesman who discovered it.

[320] Ed. Fr. Martinez de la Rosa, pp. 155, 156.

[321] Ibid., pp. 159-162.

[322] Hernan Perez del Pulgar, el de las HazaÑas, was born in 1451, and died in 1531.

[323] Discurso hecho por Argote de Molina, sobre el Itinerario de Ruy Gonzalez de Clavijo, Madrid, 1782, 4to, p. 3.

[324] The edition of Argote de Molina was published in 1582; and there is only one other, the very good one printed at Madrid, 1782, 4to.

[325] They were much struck with the works in mosaic in Constantinople, and mention them repeatedly, pp. 51, 59, and elsewhere. The reason why they did not, on the first day, see all the relics they wished to see in the church of San Juan de la Piedra is very quaint, and shows great simplicity of manners at the imperial court: “The Emperor went to hunt, and left the keys with the Empress his wife, and when she gave them, she forgot to give those where the said relics were,” etc. p. 52.

[326] Page 84, etc.

[327] Page 118, etc.

[328] Pages 149-198.

[329] Page 207, etc.

[330] Hijos de Madrid, Ilustres en Santidad, Dignidades, Armas, Ciencias, y Artes, Diccionario HistÓrico, su Autor D. Joseph Ant. Alvarez y Baena, Natural de la misma Villa; Madrid, 1789-91, 4 tom. 4to;—a book whose materials, somewhat crudely put together, are abundant and important, especially in what relates to the literary history of the Spanish capital. A Life of Clavijo is to be found in it, Tom. IV. p. 302.

[331] “Hay en ella grandes edificios de muy grande obra, que fizo Virgilio.” p. 30.

[332] All he says of Amalfi is, “Y en esta ciudad de Malfa dicen que estÁ la cabeza de Sant Andres.” p. 33.

[333] Mariana says that the Itinerary contains “muchas otras cosas asaz maravillosas, si verdaderas.” (Hist., Lib. XIX. c. 11.) But Blanco White, in his “Variedades,” (Tom. I. pp. 316-318,) shows, from an examination of Clavijo’s Itinerary, by Major Rennell, and from other sources, that its general fidelity may be depended upon.

[334] In the account of his first voyage, rendered to his sovereigns, he says he was in 1492 at Granada, “adonde, este presente aÑo, Á dos dias del mes de Enero, por fuerza de armas, vide poner las banderas reales de Vuestras Altezas en las torres de Alfambra,” etc. Navarrete, Coleccion de los Viajes y Descubrimientos que hicieron por Mar los EspaÑoles desde Fines del Siglo XV., Madrid, 1825, 4to, Tom. I. p. 1;—a work admirably edited, and of great value, as containing the authentic materials for the history of the discovery of America. Old Bernaldez, the friend of Columbus, describes more exactly what Columbus saw: “E mostraron en la mas alta torre primeramente el estandarte de Jesu Cristo, que fue la Santa Cruz de plata, que el rey traia siempre en la santa conquista consigo.” Hist. de los Reyes CatÓlicos, Cap. 102, MS.

[335] This appears from his letter to the Pope, February, 1502, in which he says, he had counted upon furnishing, in twelve years, 10,000 horse and 100,000 foot soldiers for the conquest of the Holy City, and that his undertaking to discover new countries was with the view of spending the means he might there acquire in this sacred service. Navarrete, Coleccion, Tom. II. p. 282.

[336] One of the prophecies he supposed himself called on to fulfil was that in the eighteenth Psalm. (Navarrete, Col., Tom. I. pp. xlviii., xlix., note; Tom. II. pp. 262-266.) In King James’s version, the passage stands thus:—“Thou hast made me the head of the heathen; a people whom I have not known shall serve me. As soon as they hear of me, they shall obey me; the strangers shall submit themselves unto me.” vv. 43, 44.

[337] “Ya dije que para la esecucion de la impresa de las Indias no me aprovechÓ razon ni matematica ni mapamundos;—llenamente se cumpliÓ lo que dijo IsaÍas, y esto es lo que deseo de escrebir aquÍ por le reducir Á V. A. Á memoria, y porque se alegren del otro que yo le dije de Jerusalen por las mesmas autoridades, de la qual impresa, si fe hay, tengo por muy cierto la vitoria.” Letter of Columbus to Ferdinand and Isabella (Navarrete, Col., Tom. II. p. 265). And elsewhere in the same letter he says: “Yo dije que diria la razon que tengo de la restitucion de la Casa Santa Á la Santa Iglesia; digo que yo dejo todo mi navegar desde edad nueva y las plÁticas que yo haya tenido con tanta gente en tantas tierras y de tantas setas, y dejo las tantas artes y escrituras de que yo dije arriba; solamente me tengo Á la Santa y Sacra Escritura y Á algunas autoridades profÉticas de algunas personas santas, que por revelacion divina han dicho algo desto.” Ibid., p. 263.

[338] “Segund esta cuenta, no falta, salvo ciento e cincuenta y cinco aÑos, para complimiento de siete mil, en los quales digo arriba por las autoridades dichas que habrÁ de fenecer el mundo.” Ibid., p. 264.

[339] See the very beautiful passage about the Orinoco River, mixed with prophetical interpretations, in his account of his third voyage, to the King and Queen, (Navarrete, Col., Tom. I. pp. 256, etc.,)—a singular mixture of practical judgment and wild, dreamy speculation. “I believe,” he says, “that there is the terrestrial paradise, at which no man can arrive except by the Divine will,”—“Creo, que allÁ es el Paraiso terrenal, adonde no puede llegar nadie, salvo por voluntad divina.” The honest Clavijo thought he had found another river of paradise on just the opposite side of the earth, as he journeyed to Samarcand, nearly a century before. Vida del Gran Tamorlan, p. 137.

[340] See the letter to Ferdinand and Isabella, concerning his fourth and last voyage, dated, Jamaica, 7 July, 1503, in which this extraordinary passage occurs. Navarrete, Col., Tom. I. p. 303.

[341] To those who wish to know more of Columbus as a writer than can be properly sought in a classical life of him like that of Irving, I commend as precious: 1. The account of his first voyage, addressed to his sovereigns, with the letter to Rafael Sanchez on the same subject (Navarrete, Col., Tom. I. pp. 1-197); the first document being extant only in an abstract, which contains, however, large extracts from the original made by Las Casas, and of which a very good translation appeared at Boston, 1827 (8vo). Nothing is more remarkable, in the tone of these narratives, than the devout spirit that constantly breaks forth. 2. The account, by Columbus himself, of his third voyage, in a letter to his sovereigns and in a letter to the nurse of Prince John; the first containing several interesting passages showing that he had a love for the beautiful in nature. (Navarrete, Col., Tom. I. pp. 242-276.) 3. The letter to the sovereigns about his fourth and last voyage, which contains the account of his vision at Veragua. (Navarrete, Col., Tom. I. pp. 296-312.) 4. Fifteen miscellaneous letters. (Ibid., Tom. I. pp. 330-352.) 5. His speculations about the prophecies, (Tom. II. pp. 260-273,) and his letter to the Pope (Tom. II. pp. 280-282). But whoever would speak worthily of Columbus, or know what was most noble and elevated in his character, will be guilty of an unhappy neglect, if he fails to read the discussions about him by Alexander von Humboldt; especially those in the “Examen Critique de l’Histoire de la GÉographie du Nouveau Continent,” (Paris, 1836-38, 8vo, Vol. II. pp. 350, etc., Vol. III. pp. 227-262,)—a book no less remarkable for the vastness of its views than for the minute accuracy of its learning on some of the most obscure subjects of historical inquiry. Nobody has comprehended the character of Columbus as he has,—its generosity, its enthusiasm, its far-reaching visions, which seemed watching beforehand for the great scientific discoveries of the sixteenth century.

[342] All relating to these adventures and voyages worth looking at on the score of language or style is to be found in Vols. III., IV., V., of Navarrete, Coleccion, etc., published by the government, Madrid, 1829-37, but unhappily not continued since, so as to contain the accounts of the discovery and conquest of Mexico, Peru, etc.

[343] My copy is of the edition of AlcalÁ de Henares, 1587, and has the characteristic title, “CrÓnica del Rey Don Rodrigo, con la Destruycion de EspaÑa, y como los Moros la ganaron. Nuevamente corregida. Contiene, demas de la Historia, muchas vivas Razones y Avisos muy provechosos.” It is in folio, in double columns, closely printed, and fills 225 leaves or 450 pages.

[344] From Parte II. c. 237 to the end, containing the account of the fabulous and loathsome penance of Don Roderic, with his death. Nearly the whole of it is translated as a note to the twenty-fifth canto of Southey’s “Roderic, the Last of the Goths.”

[345] See the grand Torneo when Roderic is crowned, Parte I. c. 27; the tournament of twenty thousand knights in Cap. 40; that in Cap. 49, etc.;—all just as such things are given in the books of chivalry, and eminently absurd here, because the events of the Chronicle are laid in the beginning of the eighth century, and tournaments were unknown till above two centuries later. (A. P. Budik, Ursprung, Ausbildung, Abnahme, und Verfall des Turniers, Wien, 1837, 8vo.) He places the first tournament in 936. Clemencin thinks they were not known in Spain till after 1131. Note to Don Quixote, Tom. IV. p. 315.

[346] See the duels described, Parte II. c. 80 etc., 84 etc., 93.

[347] The King of Poland is one of the kings that comes to the court of Roderic “like a wandering knight so fair” (Parte I. c. 39). One might be curious to know who was King of Poland about A. D. 700.

[348] Thus, the Duchess of Loraine comes to Roderic (Parte I. c. 37) with much the same sort of a case that the Princess Micomicona brings to Don Quixote.

[349] Parte I. c. 234, 235, etc.

[350] To learn through what curious transformations the same ideas can be made to pass, it may be worth while to compare, in the “CrÓnica General,” 1604, (Parte III. f. 6,) the original account of the famous battle of Covadonga, where the Archbishop Orpas is represented picturesquely coming upon his mule to the cave in which Pelayo and his people lay, with the tame and elaborate account evidently taken from it in this Chronicle of Roderic (Parte II. c. 196); then with the account in Mariana, (Historia, Lib. VII. c. 2,) where it is polished down into a sort of dramatized history; and, finally, with Southey’s “Roderic, the Last of the Goths,” (Canto XXIII.,) where it is again wrought up to poetry and romance. It is an admirable scene both for chronicling narrative and for poetical fiction to deal with; but Alfonso the Wise and Southey have much the best of it, while a comparison of the four will at once give the poor “Chronicle of Roderic or the Destruction of Spain” its true place.

Another work, something like this Chronicle, but still more worthless, was published, in two parts, in 1592-1600, and seven or eight times afterwards; thus giving proof that it long enjoyed a degree of favor to which it was little entitled. It was written by Miguel de Luna, in 1589, as appears by a note to the first part, and is called “Verdadera Historia del Rey Rodrigo, con la Perdida de EspaÑa, y Vida del Rey Jacob Almanzor, traduzida de Lengua ArÁbiga,” etc., my copy being printed at Valencia, 1606, 4to. Southey, in his notes to his “Roderic,” (Canto IV.,) is disposed to regard this work as an authentic history of the invasion and conquest of Spain, coming down to the year of Christ 761, and written in the original Arabic only two years later. But this is a mistake. It is a bold and scandalous forgery, with even less merit in its style than the elder Chronicle on the same subject, and without any of the really romantic adventures that sometimes give an interest to that singular work, half monkish, half chivalrous. How Miguel de Luna, who, though a Christian, was of an old Moorish family in Granada, and an interpreter of Philip II., should have shown a great ignorance of the Arabic language and history of Spain, or, showing it, should yet have succeeded in passing off his miserable stories as authentic, is certainly a singular circumstance. That such, however, is the fact, Conde, in his “Historia de la Dominacion de los Arabes,” (Preface, p. x.,) and Gayangos, in his “Mohammedan Dynasties of Spain,” (Vol. I. p. viii.,) leave no doubt,—the latter citing it as a proof of the utter contempt and neglect into which the study of Arabic literature had fallen in Spain in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

[351] Two Spanish translations of chronicles should be here remembered; one for its style and author, and the other for its subject.

The first is the “Universal Chronicle” of Felipe Foresto, a modest monk of Bergamo, who refused the higher honors of his Church, in order to be able to devote his life to letters, and who died in 1520, at the age of eighty-six. He published, in 1486, his large Latin Chronicle, entitled “Supplementum Chronicarum”;—meaning rather a chronicle intended to supply all needful historical knowledge, than one that should be regarded as a supplement to other similar works. It was so much esteemed at the time, that its author saw it pass through ten editions; and it is said to be still of some value for facts stated nowhere so well as on his personal authority. At the request of Luis Carroz and Pedro Boyl, it was translated into Spanish by Narcis ViÑoles, the Valencian poet, known in the old Cancioneros for his compositions both in his native dialect and in Castilian. An earlier version of it into Italian, published in 1491, may also have been the work of ViÑoles, since he intimates that he had made one; but his Castilian version was printed at Valencia, in 1510, with a license from Ferdinand the Catholic, acting for his daughter Joan. It is a large book, of nearly nine hundred pages, in folio, entitled, “Suma de todas las CrÓnicas del Mundo,” and though ViÑoles hints it was a rash thing in him to write in Castilian, his style is good and sometimes gives an interest to his otherwise dry annals. Ximeno, Bib. Val., Tom. I. p. 61. Fuster, Tom. I. p. 54. Diana Enam. de Polo, ed. 1802, p. 304. Biographie Universelle, art. Foresto.

The other Chronicle referred to is that of St. Louis, by his faithful follower Joinville; the most picturesque of the monuments for the French language and literature of the thirteenth century. It was translated into Spanish by Jacques Ledel, one of the suite of the French Princess Isabel de Bourbon, when she went to Spain to become the wife of Philip II. Regarded as the work of a foreigner, the version is respectable; and though it was not printed till 1567, yet its whole tone prevents it from finding an appropriate place anywhere except in the period of the old Castilian chronicles. CrÓnica de San Luis, etc., traducida por Jacques Ledel, Madrid, 1794, folio.

[352] An edition of the “Chronicle of Don Roderic” is cited as early as 1511; none of “Amadis de Gaula” earlier than 1510, and this one uncertain. But “Tirant lo Blanch” was printed in 1490, in the Valencian dialect, and the Amadis appeared perhaps soon afterwards, in the Castilian; so that it is not improbable the “Chronicle of Don Roderic” may mark, by the time of its appearance, as well as by its contents and spirit, the change, of which it is certainly a very curious monument.

[353] Warton’s Hist. of English Poetry, first Dissertation, with the notes of Price, London, 1824, 4 vols. 8vo. Ellis’s Specimens of Early English Metrical Romance, London, 1811, 8vo, Vol. I. Turner’s Vindication of Ancient British Poems, London, 1803, 8vo.

[354] Turpin, J., De Vit Caroli Magni et Rolandi, ed. S. Ciampi, FlorentiÆ, 1822, 8vo.

[355] Preface to the “Roman de Rou,” by Robert Wace, ed. F. Pluquet, Paris, 1827, 8vo, Vol. I.

[356] Letter to M. de MonmerquÉ, by Paulin Paris, prefixed to “Li Romans de Berte aux Grans PiÉs,” Paris, 1836, 8vo.

[357] See, on the whole subject, the Essays of F. W. Valentine Schmidt; JahrbÜcher der Literatur, Vienna, 1824-26, BÄnde XXVI. p. 20, XXIX. p. 71, XXXI. p. 99, and XXXIII. p. 16. I shall have occasion to use the last of these discussions, when speaking of the Spanish romances belonging to the family of Amadis.

[358] Don Quixote, in his conversation with the curate, (Parte II. c. 1,) says, that, to defeat any army of two hundred thousand men, it would only be necessary to have living “alguno de los del inumerable linage de Amadis de Gaula,”—“any one of the numberless descendants of Amadis de Gaul.”

[359] Ayala, in his “Rimado de Palacio,” already cited, says:—

Plegomi otrosi oir muchas vegadas

Libros de devaneos e mentiras probadas,

Amadis e Lanzarote, e burlas a sacadas,

En que perdi mi tiempo Á mui malas jornadas.

[360] Barbosa, Bib. Lusitana, Lisboa, 1752, fol., Tom. III. p. 775, and the many authorities there cited, none of which, perhaps, is of much consequence except that of JoÃo de Barros, who, being a careful historian, born in 1496, and citing an older author than himself, adds something to the testimony in favor of Lobeira.

[361] Gomez de Zurara, in the outset of his “Chronicle of the Conde Don Pedro de Meneses,” says that he wishes to write an account only of “the things that happened in his own times, or of those which happened so near to his own times that he could have true knowledge of them.” This strengthens what he says concerning Lobeira, in the passage cited in the text from the opening of Chap. 63 of the Chronicle. The Ferdinand to whom Zurara there refers was the father of John I. and died in 1383. The Chronicle of Zurara is published by the Academy of Lisbon, in their “ColecÇÃo de Libros Ineditos de Historia Portuguesa,” Lisboa, 1792, fol., Tom. II. I have a curious manuscript “Dissertation on the Authorship of the Amadis de Gaula,” by Father Sarmiento, who wrote the valuable fragment of a History of Spanish Poetry to which I have often referred. This learned Galician is much confused and vexed by the question;—first denying that there is any authority at all for saying Lobeira wrote the Amadis; then asserting, that, if Lobeira wrote it, he was a Galician; then successively suggesting that it may have been written by Vasco Perez de CamÕes, by the Chancellor Ayala, by Montalvo, or by the Bishop of Cartagena;—all absurd conjectures, much connected with his prevailing passion to refer the origin of all Spanish poetry to Galicia. He does not seem to have been aware of the passage in Gomez de Zurara.

[362] The Saint Graal, or the Holy Cup which the Saviour used for the wine of the Last Supper, and which, in the story of Arthur, is supposed to have been brought to England by Joseph of Arimathea, is alluded to in Amadis de Gaula (Lib. IV. c. 48). Arthur himself—“El muy virtuoso rey Artur”—is spoken of in Lib. I. c. 1, and in Lib. IV. c. 49, where “the Book of Don Tristan and Launcelot” is also mentioned. Other passages might be cited, but there can be no doubt the author of Amadis knew some of the French fictions.

[363] See the end of Chap. 40, Book I., in which he says, “The Infante Don Alfonso of Portugal, having pity on the fair damsel, [the Lady Briolana,] ordered it to be otherwise set down, and in this was done what was his good pleasure.”

[364] GinguenÉ, Hist. Litt. d’Italie, Paris, 1812, 8vo, Tom. V. p. 62, note (4), answering the Preface of the Conte de Tressan to his too free abridgment of the Amadis de Gaula, Œuvres, Paris, 1787, 8vo, Tom. I. p. xxii.

[365] The fact that it was in the Arveiro collection is stated in Ferreira, “Poemas Lusitanas,” (Lisboa, 1598, 4to,) where is the sonnet, No. 33, by Ferreira in honor of Vasco de Lobeira, which Southey, in his Preface to his “Amadis of Gaul,” (London, 1803, 12mo, Vol. I. p. vii.,) erroneously attributes to the Infante Antonio of Portugal, and thus would make it of consequence in the present discussion. Nic. Antonio, who leaves no doubt as to the authorship of the sonnet in question, refers to the same note in Ferreira to prove the deposit of the manuscript of the Amadis; so that the two constitute only one authority, and not two authorities, as Southey supposes. (Bib. Vetus, Lib. VIII. cap. vii. sect. 291.) Barbosa is more distinct. (Bib. Lusitana, Tom. III. p. 775.) But there is a careful summing up of the matter in Clemencin’s notes to Don Quixote, (Tom. I. pp. 105, 106,) beyond which it is not likely we shall advance in our knowledge concerning the fate of the Portuguese original.

[366] In his PrÓlogo, Montalvo alludes to the conquest of Granada in 1492, and to both the Catholic sovereigns as still alive, one of whom, Isabella, died in 1504.

[367] I doubt whether the Salamanca edition of 1510, mentioned by Barbosa, (article Vasco de Lobeira,) is not, after all, the edition of 1519 mentioned in Brunet as printed by Antonio de Salamanca. The error in printing, or copying, would be small, and nobody but Barbosa seems to have heard of the one he notices. When the first edition appeared is quite uncertain.

[368] Ferrario, Storia ed Analisi degli antichi Romanzi di Cavalleria, (Milano, 1829, 8vo, Tom. IV. p. 242,) and Brunet’s Manuel; to all which should be added the “Amadigi” of Bernardo Tasso, 1560, constructed almost entirely from the Spanish romance; a poem which, though no longer popular, had much reputation in its time, and is still much praised by GinguenÉ.

[369] For the old French version, see Brunet’s “Manuel du Libraire”; but Count Tressan’s rifacimento, first printed in 1779, has kept it familiar to French readers down to our own times. In German it was known from 1583, and in English from 1619; but the abridgment of it by Southey (London, 1803, 4 vols. 12mo) is the only form of it in English that can now be read. It was also translated into Dutch; and Castro, somewhere in his “Biblioteca,” speaks of a Hebrew translation of it.

[370] “Casi que en nuestros dias vimos y comunicamos y oimos al invencible y valeroso caballero D. Belianis de Grecia,” says the mad knight, when he gets to be maddest, and follows out the consequence of making Amadis live above two hundred years and have descendants innumerable. Parte I. c. 13.

[371] Don Quixote, ed. Clemencin, Tom. I. p. 107, note.

[372] Amadis de Gaula, Lib. I. c. 4.

[373] Lib. II. c. 17.

[374] Lib. IV. c. 32.

[375] See Lib. II. c. 13, Lib. IV. c. 14, and in many other places, exhortations to knightly and princely virtues.

[376] See the mourning about his own time, as a period of great suffering (Lib. IV. c. 53). This could not have been a just description of any part of the reign of the Catholic kings in Spain; and must therefore, I suppose, have been in the original work of Lobeira, and have referred to troubles in Portugal.

[377] Don Quixote, Parte I. c. 6. Cervantes, however, is mistaken in his bibliography, when he says that the Amadis was the first book of chivalry printed in Spain. It has often been noted that this distinction belongs to “Tirant lo Blanch,” 1490; though Southey (Omniana, London, 1812, 12mo, Tom. II. p. 219) thinks “there is a total want of the spirit of chivalry” in it; and it should further be noted now, as curious facts, that “Tirant lo Blanch,” though it appeared in Valencian in 1490, in Castilian in 1511, and in Italian in 1538, was yet, like the Amadis, originally written in Portuguese, to please a Portuguese prince, and that this Portuguese original is now lost;—all remarkable coincidences. See note on Chap. XVII. of this Period. On the point of the general merits of the Amadis, two opinions are worth citing. The first, on its style, is by the severe anonymous author of the “DiÁlogo de las Lenguas,” temp. Charles V., who, after discussing the general character of the book, adds, “It should be read by those who wish to learn our language.” (Mayans y Siscar, OrÍgenes, Madrid, 1737, 12mo, Tom. II. p. 163.) The other, on its invention and story, is by Torquato Tasso, who says of the Amadis, “In the opinion of many, and particularly in my own opinion, it is the most beautiful, and perhaps the most profitable, story of its kind that can be read, because, in its sentiment and tone, it leaves all others behind it, and, in the variety of its incidents, yields to none written before or since.” Apologia della Gerusalemme, Opere, Pisa, 1824, 8vo, Tom. X. p. 7.

[378] I possess of “Esplandian” the curious edition printed at Burgos, in folio, double columns, 1587, by Simon de Aguaya. It fills 136 leaves, and is divided into 184 chapters. As in the other editions I have seen mentioned or have noticed in public libraries, it is called “Las Sergas del muy EsforÇado Cavallero Esplandian,” in order to give it the learned appearance of having really been translated, as it pretends to be, from the Greek of Master Elisabad;—“Sergas” being evidently an awkward corruption of the Greek ???a, works or achievements. Allusions are made to it, as to a continuation, in the Amadis, Lib. IV.; besides which, in Lib. III. cap. 4, we have the birth and baptism of Esplandian; in Lib. III. c. 8, his marvellous growth and progress; and so on, till, in the last chapter of the romance, he is armed as a knight. So that the Esplandian is, in the strictest manner, a continuation of the Amadis. Southey (Omniana, Vol. I. p. 145) thinks there is some error about the authorship of the Esplandian. If there is, I think it is merely typographical.

[379] There are two Canciones in Amadis, (Lib. II. c. 8 and c. 11,) which, notwithstanding something of the conceits of their time, in the ProvenÇal manner, are quite charming, and ought to be placed among the similar Canciones in the “Floresta” of Bohl de Faber. The last begins,—

Leonoreta, fin roseta,

Blanca sobre toda flor;

Fin roseta, no me meta

En tal cuyta vuestro amor.

[380] The whole subject of these twelve books of Amadis in Spanish and the twenty-four in French belongs rather to bibliography than to literary history, and is among the most obscure points in both. The twelve Spanish books are said by Brunet never to have been all seen by any one bibliographer. I have seen, I believe, seven or eight of them, and own the only two for which any real value has ever been claimed,—the Amadis de Gaula, in the rare and well-printed edition of Venice, 1533, folio, and the Esplandian in the more rare, but very coarse, edition already referred to. When the earliest edition of either of them, or of most of the others, was printed cannot, I presume, be determined. One of Esplandian, of 1510, is mentioned by N. Antonio, but by nobody else in the century and a half that have since elapsed; and he is so inaccurate in such matters, that his authority is not sufficient. In the same way, he is the only authority for an edition in 1525 of the seventh book,—“Lisuarte of Greece.” But, as the twelfth book was certainly printed in 1549, the only fact of much importance is settled; viz., that the whole twelve were published in Spain in the course of about half a century. For all the curious learning on the subject, however, see an article by SalvÁ, in the Repertorio Americano, LÓndres, Agosto de 1827, pp. 29-39; F. A. Ebert, Lexicon, Leipzig, 1821, 4to, Nos. 479-489; Brunet, article Amadis; and, especially, the remarkable discussion, already referred to, by F. W. V. Schmidt, in the Wiener JahrbÜcher, Band XXXIII. 1826.

[381] Like whatever relates to the series of the Amadis, the account of the Palmerins is very obscure. Materials for it are to be found in N. Antonio, Bibliotheca Nova, Tom. II. p. 393; in SalvÁ, Repertorio Americano, Tom. IV. pp. 39, etc.; Brunet, article Palmerin; Ferrario, Romanzi di Cavalleria, Tom. IV. pp. 256, etc.: and Clemencin, notes to Don Quixote, Tom. I. pp. 124, 125.

[382] The fate of Palmerin of England has been a very strange one. Until a few years since, the only question was, whether it were originally French or Portuguese; for the oldest forms in which it was then known to exist were, 1. the French by Jacques Vicent, 1553, and the Italian by Mambrino Roseo, 1555, both of which claimed to be translations from the Spanish; and, 2. the Portuguese by Moraes, 1567, which claimed to be translated from the French. In general, it was supposed to be the work of Moraes, who, having long lived in France, was thought to have furnished his manuscript to the French translator, (Barbosa, Bib. Lus., Tom. II. p. 209,) and, under this persuasion, it was published as his, in Portuguese, at Lisbon, in three handsome volumes, small 4to, 1786, and in English, by Southey, London, 1807, 4 vols. 12mo. Even Clemencin, (ed. Don Quixote, Tom. I. pp. 125, 126,) if he did not think it to be the work of Moraes, had no doubt that it was originally Portuguese. At last, however, SalvÁ found a copy of the lost Spanish original, which settles the question, and places the date of the work in 1547-48, Toledo, 3 tom. folio. (Repertorio Americano, Tom. IV. pp. 42-46.) The little we know of its author, Luis Hurtado, is to be found in Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. II. p. 44, where one of his works, “Cortes del Casto Amor y de la Muerte,” is said to have been printed in 1557. He also translated the “Metamorphoses” of Ovid.

[383] Barbosa, Bib. Lusit., Tom. I. p. 652, Tom. II. p. 17.

[384] Bishop Percy says that Dr. Johnson read “Felixmarte of Hircania” quite through, when at his parsonage-house, one summer. It may be doubted whether the book has been read through since by any Englishman. Boswell’s Life, ed. Croker, London, 1831, 8vo, Vol. I. p. 24.

[385] Ebert cites the first edition known as of 1525; Bowle, in the list of his authorities, gives one of 1534; Clemencin says there is one of 1543 in the Royal Library at Madrid; and Pellicer used one of 1562. Which of these I have I do not know, as the colophon is gone and there is no date on the title-page; but its type and paper seem to indicate an edition from Antwerp, while all the preceding were printed in Spain.

[386] See Parte I. c. 112, 144.

[387] “Merlin,” 1498, “Artus,” 1501, “Tristan,” 1528, “Sancto Grial,” 1555, and “Segunda Tabla Redonda,” 1567, would seem to be the series of them given by the bibliographers. But the last cannot, perhaps, now be found, though mentioned by Quadrio, who, in his fourth volume, has a good deal of curious matter on these old romances generally. I do not think it needful to notice others, such as “Pierres y Magalona,” 1526, “Tallante de Ricamonte,” and the “Conde Tomillas,”—the last referred to in Don Quixote, but otherwise unknown.

[388] Discussions on the origin of these stories may be found in the Preface to the excellent edition of Einhard or Eginhard by Ideler (Hamburg, 1839, 8vo, Band I. pp. 40-46). The very name, Roncesvalles, does not seem to have occurred out of Spain till much later. (Ibid., p. 169.) There is an edition of the “Carlo Magno” printed at Madrid, in 1806, 12mo, evidently for popular use, and I notice others since.

[389] There are several editions of the First Part of it mentioned in Clemencin’s notes to Don Quixote (Parte I. c. 6); besides which, it had succession, in Parts II. and III., before 1558.

[390] The “Cleomadez,” one of the most popular stories in Europe for three centuries, was composed by Adenez, at the dictation of Marie, queen of Philip III. of France, who married her in 1272. (Fauchet, Recueil, Paris, 1581, folio, Liv. II. c. 116.) Froissart gives a simple account of his reading and admiring it in his youth. PoÉsies, Paris, 1829, 8vo, pp. 206, etc.

[391] The “Ethiopica,” or the “Loves of Theagenes and Chariclea,” written in Greek by Heliodorus, who lived in the time of the Emperors Theodosius, Arcadius, and Honorius. It was well known in Spain at the period now spoken of, for, though it was not printed in the original before 1534, a Spanish translation of it appeared as early as 1554, anonymously, and another, by Ferdinand de Mena, in 1587, which was republished at least twice in the course of thirty years. (Nic. Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. 380, and Conde’s Catalogue, London, 1824, 8vo, Nos. 263, 264.) It has been said that the Bishop preferred to give up his rank and place rather than consent to have this romance, the work of his youth, burned by public authority. Erotici GrÆci, ed. Mitscherlich, Biponti, 1792, 8vo, Tom. II. p. viii.

[392] The “CaballerÍa Christiana” was printed in 1570, the “Caballero de la Clara Estrella” in 1580, and the “Caballero Peregrino” in 1601. Besides these, “Roberto el Diablo”—a story which was famous throughout Europe in the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries, and has been revived in our own times—was known in Spain from 1628, and probably earlier. (Nic. Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. II. p. 251.) In France, it was printed in 1496, (Ebert, No. 19175,) and in England by Wynkyn de Worde. See Thomas, Romances, London, 1828, 12mo, Vol. I. p. v.

[393] Who this HierÓnimo de San Pedro was is a curious question. The Privilegio declares he was a Valencian, alive in 1554; and in the Bibliothecas of Ximeno and Fuster, under the year 1560, we have GerÓnimo Sempere given as the name of the well-known author of the “Carolea,” a long poem printed in that year. But to him is not attributed the “CaballerÍa Celestial”; nor does any other HierÓnimo de San Pedro occur in these collections of lives, or in Nicolas Antonio, or elsewhere that I have noted. Are they, nevertheless, one and the same person, the name of the poet being sometimes written Sentpere, Senct Pere, etc.?

[394] It is prohibited in the Index Expurgatorius, Madrid, 1667, folio, p. 863.

[395] I take, as in fairness I ought, the date of the appearance of Montalvo’s Spanish version, as the period of the first success of the Amadis in Spain, and not the date of the Portuguese original; the difference being about a century.

[396] See the very curious laws that constitute the twenty-first Title of the second of the Partidas, containing the most minute regulations; such as how a knight should be washed and dressed, etc.

[397] I should think there are accounts of twenty or thirty such tournaments in the Chronicle of John II. There are many, also, in that of Alvaro de Luna; and so there are in all the contemporary histories of Spain during the fifteenth century. In the year 1428, alone, four are recorded; two of which involved loss of life, and all of which were held under the royal auspices.

[398] See the account of the Passo Honroso already given, to which add the accounts in the Chronicle of John II. of one which was attempted in Valladolid, by Rui Diaz de Mendoza, on occasion of the marriage of Prince Henry, in 1440, but which was stopped by the royal order, in consequence of the serious nature of its results. ChrÓnica de Juan el IIº, Ann. 1440, c. 16.

[399] Ibid., Ann. 1435, c. 3.

[400] Claros Varones de Castilla, TÍtulo XVII. He boasts, at the same time, that more Spanish knights went abroad to seek adventures than there were foreign knights who came to Castile and Leon; a fact pertinent to this point.

[401] Historia Imperial, Anvers, 1561, folio, ff. 123, 124. The first edition was of 1545.

[402] Pellicer, note to Don Quixote, Parte I. c. 13.

[403] Parte I. c. 32.

[404] The abdication of the emperor happened the same year, and prevented this and other petitions of the Cortes from being acted upon. For the laws here referred to, and other proofs of the prevalence and influence of the romances of chivalry down to the time of the appearance of Don Quixote, see Clemencin’s Preface to his edition of that work.

[405] A Spanish Bishop of Barcelona, in the seventh century, was deposed for merely permitting plays with allusions to heathen mythology to be acted in his diocese. Mariana, Hist., Lib. VI. c. 3.

[406] OnÉsime le Roy, Études sur les MystÈres, Paris, 1837, 8vo, Chap. I. De la Rue, Essai sur les Bardes, les Jongleurs, etc., Caen, 1834, 8vo, Vol. I. p. 159. Spence’s Anecdotes, ed. Singer, London, 1820, 8vo, p. 397. The exhibition still annually made, in the church of Ara Coeli, on the Capitol at Rome, of the manger and the scene of the Nativity is, like many similar exhibitions elsewhere, of the same class.

[407] Remains of Roman theatres are found at Seville (Triana), Tarragona, Murviedro (Saguntum), Merida, etc.

[408] Juegos por Escarnio is the phrase in the original. It is obscure; but I have followed the intimation of Martinez de la Rosa, who is a good authority, and who considers it to mean short satirical compositions, from which arose, perhaps, afterwards, Entremeses and Saynetes. (Isabel de SolÍs, Madrid, 1837, 12mo, Tom. I. p. 225, note 13.) Escarnido, in Don Quixote, (Parte II. c. xxi.,) is used in the sense of “trifled with.”

[409] Partida I. TÍt. VI. Ley 34, ed. de la Academia.

[410] He says that his grandfather, Pedro Gonzalez de Mendoza, who lived in the time of Peter the Cruel, wrote scenic poems in the manner of Plautus and Terence, in couplets like Serranas. Sanchez, PoesÍas Anteriores, Tom. I. p. lix.

[411] Velazquez, OrÍgenes de la PoesÍa Castellana, MÁlaga, 1754, 4to, p. 95. I think it not unlikely that Zurita refers to this play of Villena, when he says, (Anales, Libro XII., AÑo 1414,) that, at the coronation of Ferdinand, there were “grandes juegos y entremeses.” Otherwise we must suppose there were several different dramatic entertainments, which is possible, but not probable.

[412] “He had a great deal of inventive faculty, and was much given to making inventions and entremeses for festivals,” etc. (CrÓnica del Condestable Don Alvaro de Luna, ed. Flores, Madrid, 1784, 4to, TÍtulo 68.) It is not to be supposed that these were like the gay farces that have since passed under the same name, but there can be little doubt that they were poetical and were exhibited. The Constable was beheaded in 1453.

[413] I am not unaware that attempts have been made to give the Spanish theatre a different origin from the one I have assigned to it. 1. The marriage of DoÑa Endrina and Don Melon has been cited for this purpose in the French translation of “Celestina” by De Lavigne (Paris, 12mo, 1841, pp. v., vi.). But their adventures, taken from Pamphylus Maurianus, already noticed, (p. 81,) constitute, in fact, a mere story arranged about 1335, by the Archpriest of Hita, out of an old Latin dialogue, (Sanchez, Tom. IV. stanz. 550-865,) but differing in nothing important from the other tales of the Archpriest, and quite insusceptible of dramatic representation. (See Preface of Sanchez to the same volume, pp. xxiii., etc.) 2. The “DanÇa General de la Muerte,” already noticed as written about 1350, (Castro, Biblioteca EspaÑola, Tom. I. pp. 200, etc.,) has been cited by L. F. Moratin (Obras, ed. de la Academia, Madrid, 1830, 8vo, Tom. I. p. 112) as the earliest specimen of Spanish dramatic literature. But it is unquestionably not a drama, but a didactic poem, which it would have been quite absurd to attempt to exhibit. 3. The “Comedieta de Ponza,” on the great naval battle fought near the island of Ponza, in 1435, and written by the Marquis of Santillana, who died in 1454, has been referred to as a drama by Martinez de la Rosa, (Obras Literarias, Paris, 1827, 12mo, Tom. II. pp. 518, etc.,) who assigns it to about 1436. But it is, in truth, merely an allegorical poem thrown into the form of a dialogue and written in coplas de arte mayor. I shall notice it hereafter. And finally, 4. Blas de Nasarre, in his PrÓlogo to the plays of Cervantes, (Madrid, 1749, 4to, Vol. I.,) says there was a comedia acted before Ferdinand and Isabella in 1469, at the house of the Count de UreÑa, in honor of their wedding. But we have only Blas de Nasarre’s dictum for this, and he is not a good authority: besides which, he adds that the author of the comedia in question was John de la Enzina, who, we know, was not born earlier than the year before the event referred to. The moment of the somewhat secret marriage of these illustrious persons was, moreover, so full of anxiety, that it is not at all likely any show or mumming accompanied it. See Prescott’s Ferdinand and Isabella, Part I. c. 3.

[414] “Coplas de Mingo Revulgo,” often printed, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, with the beautiful Coplas of Manrique. The editions I use are those of 1588, 1632, and the one at the end of the “CrÓnica de Enrique IV.,” (Madrid, 1787, 4to, ed. de la Academia,) with the commentary of Pulgar.

[415]

A Mingo Revulgo, Mingo!

A Mingo Revulgo, hao!

Que es de tu sayo de blao?

No le vistes en Domingo?

Que es de tu jubon bermejo?

Por que traes tal sobrecejo?

Andas esta madrugada

La cabeza desgreÑada:

No te llotras de buen rejo?

Copla I.

[416] Velazquez (OrÍgenes, p. 52) treats Mingo Revulgo as a satire against King John and his court. But it applies much more naturally and truly to the time of Henry IV., and has, indeed, generally been considered as directed against that unhappy monarch. Copla the sixth seems plainly to allude to his passion for DoÑa Guiomar de Castro.

[417] The Coplas of Mingo Revulgo were very early attributed to John de Mena, the most famous poet of the time (N. Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. 387); but, unhappily for this conjecture, Mena was of the opposite party in politics. Mariana, who found Revulgo of consequence enough to be mentioned when discussing the troubles of Henry IV., declares (Historia, Lib. XXIII. c. 17, Tom. II. p. 475) the Coplas to have been written by Hernando del Pulgar, the chronicler; but no reason is given for this opinion except the fact that Pulgar wrote a commentary on them, making their allegory more intelligible than it would have been likely to be made by any body not quite familiar with the thoughts and purposes of the author. See the dedication of this commentary to Count Haro, with the PrÓlogo, and Sarmiento, PoesÍa EspaÑola, Madrid, 1775, 4to, § 872. But whoever wrote Mingo Revulgo, there is no doubt it was an important and a popular poem in its day.

[418] The “DiÁlogo entre el Amor y un Viejo” was first printed, I believe, in the “Cancionero General” of 1511, but it is found with the Coplas de Manrique, 1588 and 1632. See, also, N. Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. II. pp. 263, 264, for notices of Cota. The fact of this old Dialogue having an effect on the coming drama may be inferred, not only from the obvious resemblance between the two, but from a passage in Juan de la Enzina’s Eclogue beginning “Vamonos, Gil, al aldea,” which plainly alludes to the opening of Cota’s Dialogue, and, indeed, to the whole of it. The passage in Enzina is the concluding Villancico, which begins,—

Ninguno cierre las puertas;

Si Amor viniese a llamar,

Que no le ha aprovechar.

Let no man shut his doors;

If Love should come to call,

’T will do no good at all.

[419] They are called actos in the original; but neither act nor scene is a proper name for the parts of which the Celestina is composed; since it occasionally mingles up, in the most confused manner, and in the same act, conversations that necessarily happened at the same moment in different places. Thus, in the fourteenth act, we have conversations held partly between Calisto and Meliboea inside her father’s garden, and partly between Calisto’s servants, who are outside of it; all given as a consecutive dialogue, without any notice of the change of place.

[420] Rojas, the author of all but the first act of the Celestina, says, in a prefatory letter to a friend, that the first act was supposed by some to have been the work of Juan de Mena, and by others to have been the work of Rodrigo Cota. The absurdity of the first conjecture was noticed long ago by Nicolas Antonio, and has been admitted ever since, while, on the other hand, what we have of Cota falls in quite well with the conjecture that he wrote it; besides which, Alonso de Villegas, in the verses prefixed to his “Selvagia,” 1554, to be noticed hereafter, says expressly, “Though he was poor and of low estate, (pobre y de baxo lugar,) we know that Cota’s skill (ciencia) enabled him to begin the great Celestina, and that Rojas finished it with an ambrosial air that can never be enough valued”;—a testimony heretofore overlooked, but one which, under the circumstances of the case, seems sufficient to decide the question.

As to the time when the Celestina was written, we must bring it into the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella, before which we cannot find sufficient ground for believing such Spanish prose to have been possible. It is curious, however, that, from one and the same passage in the third act of the Celestina, Blanco White (Variedades, London, 1824, 8vo, Tom. I. p. 226) supposes Rojas to have written his part of it before the fall of Granada, and Germond de Lavigne (Celestine, p. 63) supposes him to have written it either afterwards, or at the very time when the last siege was going on. But Blanco White’s inference seems to be the true one, and would place both parts of it before 1490. If to this we add the allusions (Acts 4 and 7) to the autos da fÉ and their arrangements, we must place it after 1480, when the Inquisition was first established. But this is doubtful.

[421] Blanco White gives ingenious reasons for supposing that Seville is the city referred to. He himself was born there, and could judge well.

[422] The Trota-conventos of Juan Ruiz, the Archpriest of Hita, has already been noticed; and certainly is not without a resemblance to the Celestina. Besides, in the Second Act of “Calisto y Meliboea,” Celestina herself is once expressly called Trota-conventos.

[423] Rojas states these facts in his prefatory anonymous letter, already mentioned, and entitled “El Autor Á un su Amigo”; and he declares his own name and authorship in an acrostic, called “El Autor excusando su Obra,” which immediately follows the epistle, and the initial letters of which bring out the following words: “El Bachiller Fernando de Rojas acabÓ la comedia de Calysto y Meliboea, y fue nascido en la puebla de Montalvan.” Of course, if we believe Rojas himself, there can be no doubt on this point.

[424] Blanco White, in a criticism on the Celestina, (Variedades, Tom. I. pp. 224, 296,) expresses this opinion, which is also found in the Preface to M. Germond de Lavigne’s French translation of the Celestina. L. F. Moratin, too, (Obras, Tom. I. Parte I. p. 88,) thinks there is no difference in style between the two parts, though he treats them as the work of different writers. But the acute author of the “DiÁlogo de las Lenguas” (Mayans y Siscar, OrÍgenes, Madrid, 1737, 12mo, Tom. II. p. 165) is of a different opinion, and so is Lampillas, Ensayo, Madrid, 1789, 4to, Tom. VI. p. 54.

[425] For a notice of the first known edition,—that of 1499,—which is entitled “Comedia,” and is divided into sixteen acts, see an article on the Celestina by F. Wolf, in BlÄtter fÜr Literarische Unterhaltung, 1845, Nos. 213 to 217, which leaves little to desire on the subject it so thoroughly discusses. The expurgations in the editions of AlcalÁ, 1586, and Madrid, 1595, are slight, and in the Plantiniana edition, 1595, I think there are none. It is curious to observe how few are ordered in the Index of 1667, (p. 948,) and that the whole book was not forbidden till 1793, having been expressly permitted, with expurgations, in the Index of 1790, and appearing first, as prohibited, in the Index of 1805. No other book, that I know of, shows so distinctly how supple and compliant the Inquisition was, where, as in this case, it was deemed impossible to control the public taste. An Italian translation printed at Venice, in 1525, which is well made, and is dedicated to a lady, is not expurgated at all. There are lists of the editions of the original in L. F. Moratin, (Obras, Tom. I. Parte I. p. 89,) and B. C. Aribau’s “Biblioteca de Autores EspaÑoles,” (Madrid, 1846, 8vo, Tom. III. p. xii.,) to which, however, additions can be made by turning to Brunet, Ebert, and the other bibliographers. The best editions are those of Amarita (1822) and Aribau (1846).

[426] Mayans y Siscar, OrÍgenes, Tom. II. p. 167. “No book in Castilian has been written in a language more natural, appropriate, and elegant.”

[427] Verses by “El Donoso,” prefixed to the first part of Don Quixote.

[428] Sebastian de Covarrubias, Tesoro de la Lengua Castellana, Madrid, 1674, fol., ad verb.

[429] Puibusque, Hist. ComparÉe des LittÉratures Espagnole et FranÇaise, Paris, 1843, 8vo, Tom. I. p. 478;—the Essay prefixed to the French translation of Lavigne, Paris, 1841, 12mo;—Montiano y Luyando, Discurso sobre las Tragedias EspaÑolas, Madrid, 1750, 12mo, p. 9, and post, c. 21. The “Ingeniosa Helena” (1613) and the “Flora Malsabidilla” (1623) are by Salas Barbadillo, and will be noticed hereafter, among the prose fictions of the seventeenth century. The “Eufrosina” is by Ferreira de Vasconcellos, a Portuguese, and why, in 1631, it was translated into Spanish by Ballesteros Saavedra as if it had been anonymous, I know not. It is often mentioned as the work of Lobo, another Portuguese, (Barbosa, Bib. Lusit., Tom. II. p. 242, and Tom. IV. p. 143,) and Quevedo, in his Preface to the Spanish version, seems to have been of that opinion; but this, too, is not true. Lobo only prepared, in 1613, an edition of the Portuguese original.

Of the imitations of the Celestina mentioned in the text, two, perhaps, deserve further notice.

The first is the one entitled “Florinea,” which was printed at Medina del Campo, in 1554, and which, though certainly without the power and life of the work it imitates, is yet written in a pure and good style. The principal personage is Marcelia,—parcel witch, wholly shameless,—going regularly to matins and vespers, and talking religion and philosophy, while her house and life are full of whatever is most infamous. Some of the scenes are as indecent as any in the Celestina; but the story is less disagreeable, as it ends with an honorable love-match between Floriano and Belisea, the hero and heroine of the drama, and promises to give their wedding in a continuation, which, however, never appeared. It is longer than its prototype, filling 312 pages of black letter, closely printed, in small quarto; abounds in proverbs; and contains occasional snatches of poetry, which are not in so good taste as the prose. Florian, the author, says, that, though his work is called comedia, he is to be regarded as “historiador cÓmico,” a dramatic narrator.

The other is the “Selvagia,” by Alonso de Villegas, published at Toledo, in 1554, 4to, the same year with the Florinea, to which it alludes with great admiration. Its story is ingenious. Flesinardo, a rich gentleman from Mexico, falls in love with Rosiana, whom he has only seen at a window of her father’s house. His friend Selvago, who is advised of this circumstance, watches the same window, and falls in love with a lady whom he supposes to be the same that had been seen by Flesinardo. Much trouble naturally follows. But it is happily discovered that the lady is not the same; after which—except in the episodes of the servants, the bully, and the inferior lovers—every thing goes on successfully, under the management of an unprincipled counterpart of the profligate Celestina, and ends with the marriage of the four lovers. It is not so long as the Celestina or the Florinea, filling only seventy-three leaves in quarto, but it is an avowed imitation of both. Of the genius that gives such life and movement to its principal prototype there is little trace, nor has it an equal purity of style. But some of its declamations, perhaps,—though as misplaced as its pedantry,—are not without power, and some of its dialogue is free and natural. It claims everywhere to be very religious and moral, but it is any thing rather than either. Of its author there can be no doubt. As in every thing else he imitates the Celestina, so he imitates it in prefatory acrostic verses, from which I have spelt out the following sentence: “Alonso de Villegas Selvago compuso la Comedia Selvagia en servicio de su Sennora Isabel de Barrionuevo, siendo de edad de veynte annos, en Toledo, su patria”;—a singular offering, certainly, to a lady-love. It is divided into scenes, as well as acts.

[430] L. F. Moratin, Obras, Tom. I. Parte I. p. 280, and post, Period II. c. 28.

[431] The name of this author seems to be somewhat uncertain, and has been given in two or three different ways,—Alfonso Vaz, Vazquez, Velasquez, and Uz de Velasco. I take it as it stands in Antonio, Bib. Nov. (Tom. I. p. 52). The shameless play itself is to be found in Ochoa’s edition of the “OrÍgenes del Teatro EspaÑol” (Paris, 1838, 8vo). Some of the characters are well drawn; for instance, that of Inocencio, which reminds me occasionally of the inimitable Dominie Sampson. An edition of it appeared at Milan in 1602, probably preceded—as in almost all cases seems of Spanish books printed abroad—by an edition at home, and certainly followed by one at Barcelona in 1613.

[432] Custine, L’Espagne sous Ferdinand VII., troisiÈme Édit., Paris, 1838, 8vo, Tom. I. p. 279. The edition of Celestina with the various readings is that of Madrid, 1822, 18mo, by Leon Amarita. The French translation is the one already mentioned, by Germond de Lavigne (Paris, 1841, 12mo); and the German translation, which is very accurate and spirited, is by Edw. BÜlow (Leipzig, 1843, 12mo). Traces of it on the English stage are found as early as about 1530 (Collier’s History of Dram. Poetry, etc., London, 1831, 8vo, Tom. II. p. 408), and I have a translation of it by James Mabbe (London, 1631, folio), which, for its idiomatic English style, deserves to be called beautiful. Three translations of it, in the sixteenth century, into French, and three into Italian, which were frequently reprinted, besides one into Latin, already alluded to, and one into German, may be found noted in Brunet, Ebert, etc.

[433] He spells his name differently in different editions of his works; Encina in 1496, Enzina in 1509 and elsewhere.

[434] There is an edition of it (Madrid, 1786, 12mo) filling a hundred pages, to which is added a summary of the whole in a ballad of eighteen pages, which may have been intended for popular recitation. The last is not, perhaps, the work of Enzina. A similar pilgrimage, partly devout, partly poetical, was made a century later by Pedro de Escobar Cabeza de la Vaca, who published an account of it in 1587, (12mo,) at Valladolid, in twenty-five cantos of blank verse, entitled “Lucero de la Tierra Santa,”—A Lighthouse for the Holy Land. He went and returned by the way of Egypt, and at Jerusalem became a knight-templar; but his account of what he saw and did, though I doubt not it is curious for the history of geography, is as free from the spirit of poetry as can well be imagined. Nearly the whole of it, if not broken into verses, might be read as pure and dignified Castilian prose, and parts of it would have considerable merit as such.

[435] The best life of Enzina is one in the “Allgemeine Encyclopedie der Wissenschaften und KÜnste” (Erste Section, Leipzig, 4to, Tom. XXXIV. pp. 187-189). It is by Ferdinand Wolf, of Vienna. An early and satisfactory notice of Enzina is to be found in Gonzalez de Avila, “Historia de Salamanca,” (Salamanca, 1606, 4to, Lib. III. c. xxii.,) where Enzina is called “hijo desta patria,” i. e. Salamanca.

[436] “Auto del Repelon,” or Auto of the Brawl, being a quarrel in the market-place of Salamanca, between some students of the University and sundry shepherds. The word auto comes from the Latin actus, and was applied to any particularly solemn acts, however different in their nature and character, like the autos sacramentales of the Corpus Christi days, and the autos da fÉ of the Inquisition. (See Covarrubias, Tesoro, ad verb.; and the account of Lope de Vega’s drama, in the next period.) In 1514, Enzina published, at Rome, a drama entitled “Placida y Victoriano,” which he called una egloga, and which is much praised by the author of the “DiÁlogo de las Lenguas”; but it was put into the Index Expurgatorius, 1559, and occurs again in that of 1667, p. 733. I believe no copy of it is known to be extant.

[437] They may have been represented, but I know of no proof that they were, except this accommodation of them to personages some of whom are known to have been of his audience on similar occasions.

[438] Agustin de Rojas, Viage Entretenido, Madrid, 1614, 12mo, ff. 46, 47. Speaking of the bucolic dramas of Enzina, represented before the Dukes of Alva, Infantado, etc., he says expressly, “These were the first.” Rojas was not born till 1577, but he was devoted to the theatre his whole life, and seems to have been more familiar with its history than anybody else of his time.

[439] Rodrigo Mendez de Silva, CatÁlogo Real GenealÓgico de EspaÑa, at the end of his “Poblacion de EspaÑa” (Madrid, 1675, folio, f. 250. b). Mendez de Silva was a learned and voluminous author. See his Life, Barbosa, Bib. Lusitana, Tom. III. p. 649, where is a sonnet of Lope de Vega in praise of the learning of this very CatÁlogo Real. The word “publicly,” however, seems only to refer to the representations in the houses of Enzina’s patrons, etc., as we shall see hereafter.

[440] The villancicos long retained a pastoral tone and something of a dramatic character. At the marriage of Philip II., in Segovia, 1570, “The youth of the choir, gayly dressed as shepherds, danced and sang a villancico,” says Colmenares, (Hist. de Segovia, Segovia, 1627, fol., p. 558,) and in 1600, villancicos were again performed by the choir, when Philip III. visited the city. Ibid., p. 594.

[441] This is the eclogue beginning “Dios salva acÁ buena gente,” etc., and is on fol. 103 of the “Cancionero de Todas las Obras de Juan de la Encina; impreso en Salamanca, a veinte dias del Mes de Junio de M.CCCC. E XCVI. aÑos” (116 leaves, folio). It was represented before the Duke and Duchess of Alva, while they were in the chapel for matins on Christmas morning; and the next eclogue, beginning “Dios mantenga, Dios mantenga,” was represented in the same place, at vespers, the same day.

[442] “This word,” says Covarruvias, in his Tesoro, “is used in Salamanca, and means Carnival. In the villages, they call it Antruydo; it is certain days before Lent.... They savor a little of heathenism.” Later, Antruejo became, from a provincialism, an admitted word. Villalobos, about 1520, in his amusing “Dialogue between the Duke and the Doctor,” says, “Y el dia de Antruejo,” etc. (Obras, ÇaragoÇa, 1544, folio, f. 35); and the Academy’s dictionary has it, and defines it to be “the three last days of Carnival.”

[443] The “Antruejo” eclogue begins “Carnal fuera! Carnal fuera!”—“Away, Carnival! away, Carnival!”—and recalls the old ballad, “Afuera, afuera, Rodrigo!” It is found at f. 85 of the edition of 1509, and is preceded by another “Antruejo” eclogue, represented the same day before the Duke and Duchess, beginning “O triste de mi cuytado,” (f. 83,) and ending with a villancico full of hopes of a peace with France.

[444] It begins “Deo gracias, padre onrado!” and is at f. 80 of the edition of 1509.

[445] These are the two eclogues, “Pascuala, Dios te mantenga!” (f. 86,) and “Ha, Mingo, quedaste atras” (f. 88). They were, I have little doubt, represented in succession, with a pause between, like that between the acts of a modern play, in which Enzina presented a copy of his Works to the Duke and Duchess, and promised to write no more poetry unless they ordered him to do it.

[446] There is such a Doric simplicity in this passage, with its antiquated, and yet rich, words, that I transcribe it as a specimen of description very remarkable for its age:—

Cata, Gil, que las maÑanas,

En el campo hay gran frescor,

Y tiene muy gran sabor

La sombra de las cabaÑas.

Quien es ducho de dormir

Con el ganado de noche,

No creas que no reproche

El palaciego vivir.

Oh! que gasajo es oir

El sonido de los grillos,

Y el taÑer de los caramillos;

No hay quien lo pueda decir!

Ya sabes que gozo siente

El pastor muy caluroso

En beber con gran reposo,

De bruzas, agua en la fuente,

O de la que va corriente

Por el cascajal corriendo,

Que se va todo riendo;

Oh! que prazer tan valiente!

Ed. 1509, f. 90.

[447] Barbosa, Biblioteca Lusitana, Tom. II. pp. 383, etc. The dates of 1502 and 1536 are from the prefatory notices, by the son of Vicente, to the first of his works, in the “Obras de DevoÇÃo,” and to the “Floresta de EngaÑos,” which was the latest of them.

[448] DamiÃo de Goes, CrÓnica de D. Manoel, Lisboa, 1749, fol., Parte IV. c. 84, p. 595. “Trazia continuadamente na sua Corte choquarreiros Castellanos.”

[449] Married in 1500. (Ibid., Parte I. c. 46.) As so many of Vicente’s Spanish verses were made to please the Spanish queens, I cannot agree with Rapp, (Pruth’s LiterÄrhistorisch Taschenbuch, 1846, p. 341,) that Vicente used Spanish in his Pastorals as a low, vulgar language. Besides, if it was so regarded, why did Camoens and Saa de Miranda,—two of the four great poets of Portugal,—to say nothing of a multitude of other proud Portuguese, write occasionally in Spanish?

[450] The youngest son of Vicente published his father’s Works at Lisbon, in folio, in 1562, of which a reprint in quarto appeared there in 1586, much disfigured by the Inquisition. But these are among the rarest and most curious books in modern literature, and I remember to have seen hardly five copies, one of which was in the library at GÖttingen, and another in the public library at Lisbon, the first in folio, and the last in quarto. Indeed, so rare had the Works of Vicente become, that Moratin, to whom it was very important to see a copy of them, and who knew whatever was to be found at Madrid and Paris, in both which places he lived long, never saw one, as is plain from No. 49 of his “CatÁlogo de Piezas DramÁticas.” We therefore owe much to two Portuguese gentlemen, J. V. Barreto Feio and J. G. Monteiro, who published an excellent edition of Vicente’s Works at Hamburg, 1834, in three volumes, 8vo, using chiefly the GÖttingen copy. In this edition (Vol. I. p. 1) occurs the monologue spoken of in the text, placed first, as the son says, “por ser Á primeira coisa, que o autor fez, e que em Portugal se representou.” He says, the representation took place on the second night after the birth of the prince, and, this being so exactly stated, we know that the first secular dramatic exhibition in Portugal took place June 8, 1502, John III. having been born on the 6th. CrÓnica de D. Manoel, Parte I. c. 62.

[451] The imitation of Enzina’s poetry by Vicente is noticed by the Hamburg editors. (Vol. I. Ensaio, p. xxxviii.) Indeed, it is quite too obvious to be overlooked, and is distinctly acknowledged by one of his contemporaries, Garcia de Resende, the collector of the Portuguese Cancioneiro of 1517, who says, in some rambling verses on things that had happened in his time,—

E vimos singularmente

Fazer representaÇÕes

Destilo muy eloquente,

De muy novas invenÇÕes,

E feitas por Gil Vicente.

Elle foi o que inventou

Isto ca e o usou

CÕ mais graÇa e mais dotrina;

Posto que Joam del Enzina

O pastoril comenÇou.

Miscellania e Variedade de Historias, at the end of Resende’s CrÓnica de JoÃo II., 1622, folio, f. 164.

[452]

Dicen que me case yo;

No quiero marido, no!

Mas quiero vivir segura

Nesta sierra Á mi soltura,

Que no estar en ventura

Si casarÉ bien Ó no.

Dicen que me case yo;

No quiero marido, no!

Madre, no serÉ casada,

Por no ver vida cansada,

O quizÁ mal empleada

La gracia que Dios me diÓ.

Dicen que me case yo;

No quiero marido, no!

No serÁ ni es nacido

Tal para ser mi marido;

Y pues que tengo sabido.

Que la flor yo me la sÓ,

Dicen que me case yo;

No quiero marido, no!

Gil Vicente, Obras, Hamburgo, 1834, 8vo, Tom. I. p. 42.

[453] Traz SalomÃo, Esaias, e Moyses, e Abrahao cantando todos quatro de folia Á cantiga seguinte:—

Que saÑosa estÁ la niÑa!

Ay Dios, quien le hablaria?

En la sierra anda la niÑa

Su ganado Á repastar;

Hermosa como las flores,

SaÑosa como la mar.

SaÑosa como la mar

EstÁ la niÑa:

Ay Dios, quien le hablaria?

Vicente, Obras, Tom. I. p. 46.

[454]

Muy graciosa es la doncella:

Como es bella y hermosa!

Digas tÚ, el marinero,

Que en las naves vivias,

Si la nave Ó la vela Ó la estrella

Es tan bella.

Digas tÚ, el caballero,

Que las armas vestÍas,

Si el caballo Ó las armas Ó la guerra

Es tan bella.

Digas tÚ, el pastorcico,

Que el ganadico guardas,

Si el ganado Ó las valles Ó la sierra

Es tan bella.

Vicente, Obras, Tom. I. p. 61.

[455] It is in the Hamburg edition (Tom. I. pp. 36-62); but though it properly ends, as has been said, with the song to the Madonna, there is afterwards, by way of envoi, the following vilancete, (“por despedida Ó vilancete seguinte,”) which is curious as showing how the theatre was, from the first, made to serve for immediate excitement and political purposes; since the vilancete is evidently intended to stir up the noble company present to some warlike enterprise in which their services were wanted, probably against the Moors of Africa, as King Manoel had no other wars.

To the field! To the field!

Cavaliers of emprise!

Angels pure from the skies

Come to help us and shield.

To the field! To the field!

With armour all bright,

They speed down their road,

On man call, on God,

To succour the right.

To the field! To the field!

Cavaliers of emprise,

Angels pure from the skies

Come to help us and shield.

To the field! To the field!

A la guerra,

Caballeros esforzados;

Pues los angeles sagrados

A socorro son en tierra.

A la guerra!

Con armas resplandecientes

Vienen del cielo volando,

Dios y hombre apelidando

En socorro de las gentes.

A la guerra,

Caballeros esmerados;

Pues los angeles sagrados

A socorro son en tierra.

A la guerra!

Vicente, Obras, Tom. I. p 62.

A similar tone is more fully heard in the spirited little drama entitled “The Exhortation to War,” performed 1513.

[456] Obras, Hamburgo, 1834, 8vo, Tom. II. pp. 68, etc.

[457] The “Rubena” is the first of the plays called,—it is difficult to tell why,—by Vicente or his editor, Comedias; and is partly in Spanish, partly in Portuguese. It is among those prohibited in the Index Expurgatorius of 1667, (p. 464,)—a prohibition renewed down to 1790.

[458] These two long plays, wholly in Spanish, are the first two of those announced as “Tragicomedias” in Book III. of the Works of Vicente. No reason that I know of can be given for this precise arrangement and name.

[459] This, too, is one of the “Tragicomedias,” and is chiefly, but not wholly, in Spanish.

[460] The first of these three Autos, the “Barca do Inferno,” was represented, in 1517, before the queen, Maria of Castile, in her sick-chamber, when she was suffering under the dreadful disease of which she soon afterwards died. Like the “Barca do Purgatorio,” (1518,) it is in Portuguese, but the remaining Auto, the “Barca da Gloria,” (1519,) is in Spanish. The last two were represented in the royal chapel. The moral play of Lope de Vega which was suggested by them is the one called “The Voyage of the Soul,” and is found in the First Book of his “Peregrino en su Patria.” The opening of Vicente’s play resembles remarkably the setting forth of the Demonio on his voyage in Lope, besides that the general idea of the two fictions is almost the same. On the other side of the account, Vicente shows himself frequently familiar with the old Spanish literature. For instance, in one of his Portuguese FarÇas, called “Dos FÍsicos,” (Tom. III. p. 323,) we have—

En el mes era de Mayo,

Vespora de Navidad,

Cuando canta la cigarra, etc.;

plainly a parody of the well-known and beautiful old Spanish ballad beginning—

Por el mes era de Mayo,

Quando hace la calor,

Quando canta la calandria, etc.,

a ballad which, so far as I know, can be traced no farther back than the ballad-book of 1555, or, at any rate, that of 1550, while here we have a distinct allusion to it before 1536, giving a curious proof how widely this old popular poetry was carried about by the memories of the people before it was written down and printed, and how much it was used for dramatic purposes from the earliest period of theatrical compositions.

[461] This “Auto da FÉ,” as it is strangely called, is in Spanish (Obras, Tom. I. pp. 64, etc.); but there is one in Portuguese, represented before John III., (1527,) which is still more strangely called “Breve Summario da Historia de Deos,” the action beginning with Adam and Eve, and ending with the Saviour. Ibid., I. pp. 306, etc.

[462] Joam de Barros, the historian, in his dialogue on the Portuguese Language, (Varias Obras, Lisboa, 1785, 12mo, p. 222,) praises Vicente for the purity of his thoughts and style, and contrasts him proudly with the Celestina; “a book,” he adds, “to which the Portuguese language has no parallel.”

[463] His touching verses, “Ven, muerte, tan escondida,” so often cited, and at least once in Don Quixote, (Parte II. c. 38,) are found as far back as the Cancionero of 1511; but I am not aware that Escriva’s “Quexa de su Amiga” can be found earlier than in the Cancionero, Sevilla, 1535, where it occurs, f. 175. b, etc. He himself, no doubt, flourished about the year 1500-1510. But I should not, probably, have alluded to him here, if he had not been noticed in connection with the early Spanish theatre, by Martinez de la Rosa (Obras, Paris, 1827, 12mo, Tom. II. p. 336). Other poems, written in dialogue, by Alfonso de Cartagena, and by Puerto Carrero, occur in the Cancioneros Generales, but they can hardly be regarded as dramatic; and Clemencin twice notices Pedro de Lerma as one of the early contributors to the Spanish drama; but he is not mentioned by Moratin, Antonio, Pellicer, or any of the other authors who would naturally be consulted in relation to such a point. Don Quixote, ed. Clemencin, Tom. IV. p. viii., and Memorias de la Academia de Historia, Tom. VI. p. 406.

[464] Three editions of it are cited by L. F. Moratin, (CatÁlogo, No. 20,) the earliest of which is in 1515. My copy, however, is of neither of them. It is dated ÇaragoÇa, 1544, (folio,) and is at the end of the “Problemas” and of the other works of Villalobos, which also precede it in the editions of 1543 and 1574.

[465] It fills about twenty-six pages and six hundred lines, chiefly in octave stanzas, in the edition of Antwerp, 1576, and contains a detailed account of the circumstances attending its representation.

[466] This notice of Naharro is taken from the slight accounts of him contained in the letter of Juan Baverio Mesinerio prefixed to the “Propaladia” (Sevilla, 1573, 18mo) as a life of its author, and from the article in Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. 202.

[467] Antonio (Preface to Biblioteca Nova, Sec. 29) says he bred young men to become soldiers by teaching them to read romances of chivalry.

[468] “IntitulÉlas” (he says, “Al Letor”) “Propaladia a Prothon, quod est primum, et Pallade, id est, primÆ res Palladis, a differencia de las que segundariamente y con mas maduro estudio podrian succeder.” They were, therefore, probably written when he was a young man.

[469] I have never seen the first edition, which is sometimes said to have been printed at Naples (Ebert, etc.) and sometimes (Moratin, etc.) at Rome; but as it was dedicated to one of its author’s Neapolitan patrons, and as Mesinerio, who seems to have been a personal acquaintance of its author, implies that it was, at some time, printed at Naples, I have assigned its first edition to that city. Editions appeared at Seville in 1520, 1533, and 1545; one at Toledo, 1535; one at Madrid, 1573; and one without date at Antwerp. I have used the editions of Seville, 1533, small quarto, and Madrid, 1573, small 18mo; the latter being expurgated, and having “Lazarillo de TÓrmes” at the end. There were but six plays in the early editions; the “Calamita” and “Aquilana” being added afterwards.

[470] “Viendo assi mismo todo el mundo en fiestas de Comedias y destas cosas,” is part of his apology to Don Fernando Davalos for asking leave to dedicate them to him.

[471] Trissino’s “Sofonisba” was written as early as 1515, though not printed till later.

[472] “Jornadas,” days’-work, days’-journey, etc. The old French mysteries were divided into journÉes or portions each of which could conveniently be represented in the time given by the Church to such entertainments on a single day. One of the mysteries in this way required forty days for its exhibition.

[473] La Aquilana.

[474] La Calamita.

[475] “Comedia Á noticia” he calls them, in the Address to the Reader, and “comedia Á fantasÍa”; and explains the first to be “de cosa nota y vista en realidad,” illustrating the remark by his plays on recruiting and on the riotous life of a cardinal’s servants. His comedias are extremely different in length; one of them extending to about twenty-six hundred lines, which would be very long, if represented, and another hardly reaching twelve hundred. All, however, are divided into five jornadas.

[476] In the Dedication of “La Francesilla” in his Comedias, Tom. XIII. Madrid, 1620, 4to.

[477] The “Aquilana,” absurd as its story is, approaches, perhaps, even nearer to absolute regularity in its form.

[478] This is an old proverb, “A otro can con esse huesso.” It occurs more than once in Don Quixote. A little lower we have another, “Ya las toman do las dan,”—“Where they give, they take.” Naharro is accustomed to render his humorous dialogue savory by introducing such old proverbs frequently.

[479]

Boreas. Plugiera, SeÑora, a Dios,

En aquel punto que os vi,

Que quisieras tanto a mi,

Como luego quise a vos.

Doresta. Bueno es esso;

A otro can con esse huesso!

Boreas. Ensayad vos de mandarme

Quanto yo podrÉ hazer,

Pues os desseo seruir:

Si quiera porqu’ en prouarme,

Conozcays si mi querer

Concierta con mi dezir.

Doresta. Si mis ganas fuessen ciertas

De quereros yo mandar,

QuiÇa de vuestro hablar

Saldrian menos offertas.

Boreas. Si mirays,

SeÑora, mal me tratais.

Doresta. Como puedo maltrataros

Con palabras tan honestas

Y por tan cortesas maÑas?

Boreas. Como? ya no osso hablaros,

Que teneys ciertas respuestas

Que lastiman las entraÑas.

Doresta. Por mi fe tengo manzilla

De veros assi mortal:

Morireys de aquesse mal?

Boreas. No seria maravilla.

Doresta. Pues, galan,

Ya las toman do las dan.

Boreas. Por mi fe, que holgaria,

Si, como otros mis yguales,

Pudiesse dar y tomar:

Mas veo, SeÑora mia,

Que recibo dos mil males

Y ninguno puedo dar.

Propaladia, Madrid, 1573, 18mo, f. 222.

[480] There is a good deal of art in Naharro’s verse. The “Hymenea,” for instance, is written in twelve-line stanzas; the eleventh being a pie quebrado, or broken line. The “Jacinta” is in twelve-line stanzas, without the pie quebrado. The “Calamita” is in quintillas, connected by the pie quebrado. The “Aquilana” is in quartetas, connected in the same way; and so on. But the number of feet in each of his lines is not always exact, nor are the rhymes always good, though, on the whole, a harmonious result is generally produced.

[481] He partly apologizes for this in his Preface to the Reader, by saying that Italian words are introduced into the comedias because of the audiences in Italy. This will do, as far as the Italian is concerned; but what is to be said for the other languages that are used? In the Introyto to the “Serafina,” he makes a jest of the whole, telling the audience,—

But you must all keep wide awake,

Or else in vain you’ll undertake

To comprehend the differing speech,

Which here is quite distinct for each;—

Four languages, as you will hear,

Castilian with Valencian clear,

And Latin and Italian too;—

So take care lest they trouble you.

No doubt his comedias were exhibited before only a few persons, who were able to understand the various languages they contained, and found them only the more amusing for this variety.

[482] It is singular, however, that a very severe passage on the Pope and the clergy at Rome, in the “Jacinta,” was not struck out, ed. 1573, f. 256. b;—a proof, among many others, how capriciously and carelessly the Inquisition acted in such matters. In the Index of 1667, (p. 114,) only the “Aquilana” is prohibited.

[483] As the question, whether Naharro’s plays were acted in Italy or not, has been angrily discussed between Lampillas (Ensayo, Madrid, 1789, 4to, Tom. VI. pp. 160-167) and Signorelli (Storia dei Teatri, Napoli, 1813, 8vo, Tom. VI. pp. 171, etc.), in consequence of a rash passage in Nasarre’s PrÓlogo to the Plays of Cervantes, (Madrid, 1749, 4to,) I will copy the original phrase of Naharro himself, which had escaped all the combatants, and in which he says he used Italian words in his plays, “aviendo respeto al lugar, y Á las personas, Á quien se recitaron.” Neither of these learned persons knew even that the first edition of the “Propaladia” was probably printed in Italy, and that one early edition was certainly printed there.

[484] “Las mas destas obrillas andavan ya fuera de mi obediencia y voluntad.”

[485] In the opening of the Introyto to the “Trofea.”

[486] I am quite aware, that, in the important passage already cited from Mendez Silva, on the first acting of plays in 1492, we have the words, “AÑo de 1492 comenzaron en Castilla las compaÑÍas Á representar publicamente comedias de Juan de la Enzina”; but what the word publicamente was intended to mean is shown by the words that follow: “festejando con ellas Á D. Fadrique de Toledo, Enriquez Almirante de Castilla, y Á Don IÑigo Lopez de Mendoza segundo Duque del Infantado.” So that the representations in the halls and chapels of these great houses were accounted public representations.

[487] F. Diez, Troubadours, Zwickau, 1826, 8vo, p. 5.

[488] Sismondi, Histoire des FranÇais, Paris, 1821, 8vo, Tom. III. pp. 239, etc.

[489] E. A. Schmidt, Geschichte Aragoniens im Mittelalter, Leipzig, 1828, 8vo, p. 92.

[490] Barcelona was a prize often fought for successfully by Moors and Christians, but it was finally rescued from the misbelievers in 985 or 986. (Zurita, Anales de Aragon, Lib. I. c. 9.) Whatever relates to its early power and glory may be found in Capmany, (Memorias de la Antigua Ciudad de Barcelona, Madrid, 1779-1792, 4 tom. 4to,) and especially in the curious documents and notes in Tom. II. and IV.

[491] The members of the French Academy, in their continuation of the Benedictine Hist. Litt. de la France, (Paris, 4to, Tom. XVI., 1824, p. 195,) trace it back a little earlier.

[492] Catalan patriotism has denied all this, and claimed that the ProvenÇal literature was derived from Catalonia. See Torres Amat, PrÓlogo to “Memorias de los Escritores Catalanes,” and elsewhere. But it is only necessary to read what its friends have said in defence of this position, to be satisfied that it is untenable. The simple fact, that the literature in question existed a full century in Provence before there is any pretence to claim its existence in Catalonia, is decisive of the controversy, if there really be a controversy about the matter. The “Memorias para ayudar Á formar un Diccionario CrÍtico de los Autores Catalanes,” etc., by D. Felix Torres Amat, Bishop of Astorga, etc., (Barcelona, 1836, 8vo,) is, however, an indispensable book for the history of the literature of Catalonia; for its author, descended from one of the old and distinguished families of the country, and nephew of the learned Archbishop Amat, who died in 1824, has devoted much of his life and of his ample means to collect materials for it. It contains more mistakes than it should; but a great deal of its information can be obtained nowhere else in a printed form.

[493] See the articles in Torres Amat, Memorias, pp. 104, 105.

[494] The poem is in Raynouard, Troubadours, Tom. III. p. 118. It begins—

Per mantas guizas m’ es datz

Joys e deport e solatz.

The life of its author is in Zurita, “Anales de Aragon” (Lib. II.); but the few literary notices needed of him are best found in Latassa, “Biblioteca Antigua de los Escritores Aragoneses,” (Zaragoza, 1796, 8vo, Tom. I. p. 175,) and in “Histoire LittÉraire de la France” (Paris, 4to, Tom. XV. 1820, p. 158). As to the word coblas, I cannot but think—notwithstanding all the refined discussions about it in Raynouard, (Tom. II. pp. 174-178,) and Diez, “Troubadours,” (p. 111 and note,)—that it was quite synonymous with the Spanish coplas, and may, for all common purposes, be translated by our English stanzas, or even sometimes by couplets.

[495] For Pierre Rogiers, see Raynouard, Troubadours, Tom. V. p. 330, Tom. III. pp. 27, etc., with Millot, Hist. Litt. des Troubadours, Paris, 1774, 12mo, Tom. I. pp. 103, etc., and the Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XV. p. 459. For Pierre Raimond de Toulouse, see Raynouard, Tom. V. p. 322, and Tom. III. p. 120, with Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XV. p. 457, and Crescimbeni, Istoria della Volgar Poesia, (Roma, 1710, 4to, Tom. II. p. 55,) where, on the authority of a manuscript in the Vatican, he says of Pierre Raimond, “AndÒ in corte del Re Alfonso d’Aragona, che l’accolse e molto onorÒ.” For AimÉric de PÉguilain, see Hist. Litt. de la France, Paris, 4to, Tom. XVIII., 1835, p. 684.

[496] Sismondi (Hist. des FranÇais, Paris, 8vo, Tom. VI. and VII., 1823, 1826) gives an ample account of the cruelties and horrors of the war of the Albigenses, and Llorente (Histoire de l’Inquisition, Paris, 1817, 8vo, Tom. I. p. 43) shows the connection of that war with the origin of the Inquisition. The fact, that nearly all the Troubadours took part with the persecuted Albigenses, is equally notorious. Histoire Litt. de la France, Tom. XVIII. p. 588, and Fauriel, Introduction to the Histoire de la Croisade contre les HÉrÉtiques Albigeois, Paris, 1837, 4to, p. xv.

[497] Raynouard, Troub., Tom. V. p. 222, Tom. III. p. 330. Millot, Hist., Tom. II. p. 174.

[498] Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XVIII. p. 586.

[499] Ibid., p. 644.

[500] Raynouard, Troub., Tom. V. pp. 382, 386. Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XVII. pp. 456-467.

[501] Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XVIII. pp. 603-605. Millot, Hist., Tom. I. p. 428.

[502] For this cruel and false chief among the crusaders, praised by Petrarca (Trionfo d’ Amore, C. IV.) and by Dante (Parad., IX. 94, etc.), see Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XVIII. p. 594. His poetry is in Raynouard, Troub., Tom. III. pp. 149-162.

[503] This important poem, admirably edited by M. Charles Fauriel, one of the soundest and most genial French scholars of the nineteenth century, is in a series of works on the history of France, published by order of the king of France, and begun under the auspices of M. Guizot, and by his recommendation, when he was Minister of Public Instruction. It is entitled “Histoire de la Croisade contre les HÉrÉtiques Albigeois, Écrite en Vers ProvenÇaux, par un PoÈte contemporain,” Paris, 1837, 4to, pp. 738. It consists of 9578 verses,—the notices of Peter II. occurring chiefly in the first part of it, and the account of his death at vv. 3061, etc.

[504] What remains of his poetry is in Raynouard, Troub., Tom. V. pp. 290, etc., and in Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XVII., 1832, pp. 443-447, where a sufficient notice is given of his life.

[505]

Reis d’ Aragon, tornem a vos,

Car etz capz de bes et de nos.

Pons Barba.

[506] Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XVIII. p. 553. The poem begins—

Al jove rei d’ Arago, que conferma

Merce e dreg, e malvestat desferma, etc.

[507] Millot, Hist. des Troubadours, Tom. II. pp. 186, etc.

[508] Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XVIII. p. 635, and Raynouard, Troub., Tom. V. p. 50.

[509] Raynouard, Troub., Tom. V. pp. 261, 262. Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XIX., Paris, 1838, p. 607.

[510] Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XVIII. pp. 571-575.

[511] Ibid., pp. 576-579.

[512] Millot, Hist., Tom. II. p. 92.

[513] Raynouard, Troub., Tom. IV. pp. 203-205.

[514] Ibid., Tom. V. p. 302. Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XX., 1842, p. 574.

[515] Quadrio (Storia d’ Ogni Poesia, Bologna, 1741, 4to, Tom. II. p. 132) and Zurita (Anales, Lib. X. c. 42) state it, but not with proof.

[516] In the GuÍa del Comercio de Madrid, 1848, is an account of the disinterment, at Poblet, in 1846, of the remains of several royal personages who had been long buried there; among which the body of Don Jayme, after a period of six hundred and seventy years, was found remarkably preserved. It was easily distinguished by its size,—for when alive Don Jayme was seven feet high,—and by the mark of an arrow-wound in his forehead which he received at Valencia, and which was still perfectly distinct. An eyewitness declared that a painter might have found in his remains the general outline of his physiognomy. Faro Industrial de la Habana, 6 Abril, 1848.

[517] Its first title is “Aureum Opus Regalium Privilegiorum Civitatis et Regni ValentiÆ,” etc., but the work itself begins, “ComenÇa la conquesta per lo serenisimo e Catholich Princep de inmortal memoria, Don Jaume,” etc. It is not divided into chapters nor paged, but it has ornamental capitals at the beginning of its paragraphs, and fills 42 large pages in folio, double columns, litt. goth., and was printed, as its colophon shows, at Valencia, in 1515, by Diez de Gumiel.

[518] Rodriguez, Biblioteca Valentina, Valencia, 1747, fol., p. 574. Its title is “ChrÓnica o Commentari del Gloriosissim e Invictissim Rey En Jacme, Rey d’ AragÒ, de Mallorques, e de Valencia, Compte de Barcelona e de Urgell e de Muntpeiller, feita e scrita per aquell en sa llengua natural, e treita del Archiu del molt magnifich Rational de la insigne Ciutat de Valencia, hon stava custodita.” It was printed under the order of the Jurats of Valencia, by the widow of Juan Mey, in folio, in 1557. The Rational being the proper archive-keeper, the Jurats being the council of the city, and the work being dedicated to Philip II., who asked to see it in print, all needful assurance is given of its genuineness. Each part is divided into very short chapters; the first containing one hundred and five, the second one hundred and fifteen, and so on. A series of letters, by Jos. Villaroya, printed at Valencia, in 1800, (8vo,) to prove that James was not the author of this Chronicle, are ingenious, learned, and well written, but do not, I think, establish their author’s position.

[519] Alfonso was born in 1221 and died in 1284, and Jayme I., whose name, it should be noted, is also spelt Jaume, Jaime, and Jacme, was born in 1208 and died in 1276. It is probable, as I have already said, that Alfonso’s Chronicle was written a little before 1260; but that period was twenty-one years after the date of all the facts recorded in Jayme’s account of the conquest of Valencia. In connection with the question of the precedence of these two Chronicles may be taken the circumstance, that it has been believed by some persons that Jayme attempted to make Catalan the language of the law and of all public records, thirty years before the similar attempt already noticed was made by Alfonso X. in relation to the Castilian. Villanueva, Viage Literario Á las Iglesias de EspaÑa, Valencia, 1821, Tom. VII. p. 195.

Another work of the king remains in manuscript. It is a moral and philosophical treatise, called “Lo Libre de la Saviesa,” or The Book of Wisdom, of which an account may be found in Castro, Biblioteca EspaÑola, Tom. II. p. 605.

[520] Probably the best notice of Muntaner is to be found in Antonio, Bib. Vetus (ed. Bayer, Vol. II. p. 145). There is, however, a more ample one in Torres Amat, Memorias, (p. 437,) and there are other notices elsewhere. The title of his Chronicle is “CrÓnica o Descripcio dels Fets e Hazanyes del Inclyt Rey Don Jaume Primer, Rey DaragÒ, de Mallorques, e de Valencia, Compte de Barcelona, e de Munpesller, e de molts de sos Descendents, feta per lo magnifich En Ramon Muntaner, lo qual servi axi al dit inclyt Rey Don Jaume com Á sos Fills e Descendents, es troba present Á las Coses contengudes en la present Historia.” There are two old editions of it; the first, Valencia, 1558, and the second, Barcelona, 1562; both in folio, and the last consisting of 248 leaves. It was evidently much used and trusted by Zurita. (See his Anales, Lib. VII. c. 1, etc.) A neat edition of it in large 8vo, edited by Karl Lanz, was published in 1844, by the Stuttgard Verein, and a translation of it into German, by the same accomplished scholar, appeared at Leipzig in 1842, in 2 vols. 8vo.

[521] “E per Ço comenÇ al feyt del dit senyor, Rey En Jacme, com yol viu, e asenyaladament essent yo fadrÍ, e lo dit senyor Rey essent Á la dita vila de Peralada hon yo naxqui, e posa en lalberch de mon pare En Joan Muntaner, qui era dels majors alberchs daquell lloch, e era al cap de la plaÇa,” (Cap. II.,)—“And therefore I begin with the fact of the said Lord Don James, as I saw him, and namely, when I was a little boy and the said Lord King was in the said city of Peralada, where I was born, and tarried in the house of my father, Don John Muntaner, which was one of the largest houses in that place, and was at the head of the square.” En, which I have translated Don, is the corresponding title in Catalan. See Andrev Bosch, Titols de Honor de Cathalunya, etc., Perpinya, folio, 1628, p. 574.

[522] This passage reminds us of the beautiful character of Sir Launcelot, near the end of the “Morte Darthur,” and therefore I transcribe the simple and strong words of the original: “E apres ques vae le pus bell princep del mon, e lo pus savi, e lo pus gracios, e lo pus dreturer, e cell qui fo mes amat de totes gents, axi dels seus sotsmesos com daltres estranys e privades gents, que Rey qui hanch fos.” Cap. VII.

[523] This poem is in Cap. CCLXXII. of the Chronicle, and consists of twelve stanzas, each of twenty lines, and each having all its twenty lines in one rhyme, the first rhyme being in o, the second in ent, the third in ayle, and so on. It sets forth the counsel of Muntaner to the king and prince on the subject of the conquest they had projected; counsel which the chronicler says was partly followed, and so the expedition turned out well, but that it would have turned out better, if the advice had been followed entirely. How good Muntaner’s counsel was we cannot now judge, but his poetry is certainly naught. It is in the most artificial style used by the Troubadours, and is well called by its author a sermo. He says, however, that it was actually given to the king.

[524] Raynouard, in Tom. III., shows this; and more fully in Tom. V., in the list of poets. So does the Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XVIII. See, also, Fauriel’s Introduction to the poem on the Crusade against the Albigenses, pp. xv., xvi.

[525] Castro, Biblioteca EspaÑola, Tom. I. p. 411, and Schmidt, Gesch. Aragoniens im Mittelalter, p. 465.

[526] Latassa, Bib. Antigua de los Escritores Aragoneses, Tom. I. p. 242. Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XX. p. 529.

[527] Antonio, Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Tom. II. Lib. VIII. c. vi., vii., and Amat, p. 207. But Serveri of Girona, about 1277, mourns the good old days of James I., (Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XX. p. 552,) as if poets were, when he wrote, beginning to fail at the court of Aragon.

[528] Muntaner, CrÓnica, ed. 1562, fol., ff. 247, 248.

[529] Du Cange, Glossarium MediÆ et InfimÆ Latinitatis, Parisiis, 1733, fol., Tom. I., PrÆfatio, sect. 34-36. Raynouard (Troub., Tom. I. pp. xii. and xiii.) would carry back both the Catalonian and Valencian dialects to A. D. 728; but the authority of Luitprand, on which he relies, is not sufficient, especially as Luitprand shows that he believed these dialects to have existed also in the time of Strabo. The most that should be inferred from the passage Raynouard cites is, that they existed about 950, when Luitprand wrote, which it is not improbable they did, though only in their rudest elements, among the Christians in that part of Spain. Some good remarks on the connection of the South of France with the South of Spain, and their common idiom, may be found in Capmany, Memorias HistÓricas de Barcelona, (Madrid, 1779-92, 4to,) Parte I., Introd., and the notes on it. The second and fourth volumes of this valuable historical work furnish many documents both curious and important for the illustration of the Catalan language.

[530] Millot, Hist. des Troubadours, Tom. II. pp. 186-201. Hist. Litt. de la France, Tom. XVIII. pp. 588, 634, 635. Diez, Troubadours, pp. 75, 227, and 331-350; but it may be doubted whether Riquier did not write the answer of Alfonso, as well as the petition to him given by Diez.

[531] Bouterwek, Hist. de la Lit. EspaÑola, traducida por Cortina, Tom. I. p. 162. Latassa, Bib. Antigua, Tom. II. pp. 25-38.

[532] Bouterwek, trad. Cortina, p. 177. This manuscript, it may be curious to notice, was once owned by Ferdinand Columbus, son of the great discoverer, and is still to be found amidst the ruins of his library in Seville, with a memorandum by himself, declaring that he bought it at Barcelona, in June, 1536, for 12 dineros, the ducat then being worth 588 dineros. See, also, the notes of CerdÁ y Rico to the “Diana Enamorada” of Montemayor, 1802, pp. 487-490 and 293-295.

[533] Bruce-Whyte (Histoire des Langues Romanes et de leur LittÉrature, Paris, 1841, 8vo, Tom. II. pp. 406-414) gives a striking extract from a manuscript in the Royal Library, Paris, which shows this mixture of the ProvenÇal and Catalan very plainly. He implies, that it is from the middle of the fourteenth century; but he does not prove it.

[534] Sarmiento, Memorias, Sect. 759-768. Torres Amat, Memorias, p. 651, article Vidal de BesalÚ. Santillana, Proverbios, Madrid, 1799, 18mo, Introduccion, p. xxiii. Sanchez, PoesÍas Anteriores, Tom. I. pp. 5-9. Sismondi, Litt. du Midi, Paris, 1813, 8vo, Tom. I. pp. 227-230. Andres, Storia d’ Ogni Letteratura, Roma, 1808, 4to, Tom. II. Lib. I. c. 1, sect. 23, where the remarks are important at pp. 49, 50.

[535] Mariana, Hist. de EspaÑa, Lib. XVIII. c. 14.

[536] “El Arte de Trobar,” or the “Gaya Sciencia,”—a treatise on the Art of Poetry, which, in 1433, Henry, Marquis of Villena, sent to his kinsman, the famous IÑigo Lopez de Mendoza, Marquis of Santillana, in order to facilitate the introduction of such poetical institutions into Castile as then existed in Barcelona,—contains the best account of the establishment of the Consistory of Barcelona, which was a matter of such consequence as to be mentioned by Mariana, Zurita, and other grave historians. The treatise of Villena has never been printed entire; but a poor abstract of its contents, with valuable extracts, is to be found in Mayans y Siscar, OrÍgenes de la Lengua EspaÑola, Madrid, 1737, 12mo, Tom. II.

[537] See Zurita, passim, and Eichhorn, Allg. Geschichte der Cultur, GÖttingen, 1796, 8vo, Tom. I. pp. 127-131, with the authorities he cites in his notes.

[538] Anales de la Corona de Aragon, Lib. X. c. 43, ed. 1610, folio, Tom. II. f. 393.

[539] Torres Amat, Memorias, p. 666.

[540] Ibid., p. 408.

[541] The discussion makes out two points quite clearly, viz.: 1st. There was a person named Jordi, who lived in the thirteenth century and in the time of Jayme the Conqueror, was much with that monarch, and wrote, as an eyewitness, an account of the storm from which the royal fleet suffered at sea, near Majorca, in September, 1269 (Ximeno, Escritores de Valencia, Tom. I. p. 1; and Fuster, Biblioteca Valentiana, Tom. I. p. 1); and, 2d. There was a person named Jordi, a poet in the fifteenth century; because the Marquis of Santillana, in his well-known letter, written between 1454 and 1458, speaks of such a person as having lived in his time. (See the letter in Sanchez, Tom. I. pp. lvi. and lvii., and the notes on it, pp. 81-85.) Now the question is, to which of these two persons belong the poems bearing the name of Jordi in the various Cancioneros; for example, in the “Cancionero General,” 1573, f. 301, and in the MS. Cancionero in the King’s Library at Paris, which is of the fifteenth century. (Torres Amat, pp. 328-333.) This question is of some consequence, because a passage attributed to Jordi is so very like one in the 103d sonnet of Petrarch, (Parte I.,) that one of them must be taken quite unceremoniously from the other. The Spaniards, and especially the Catalans, have generally claimed the lines referred to as the work of the elder Jordi, and so would make Petrarch the copyist;—a claim in which foreigners have sometimes concurred. (Retrospective Review, Vol. IV. pp. 46, 47, and Foscolo’s Essay on Petrarch, London, 1823, 8vo, p. 65.) But it seems to me difficult for an impartial person to read the verses printed by Torres Amat with the name of Jordi from the Paris MS. Cancionero, and not believe that they belong to the same century with the other poems in the same manuscript, and that thus the Jordi in question lived after 1400, and is the copyist of Petrarch. Indeed, the very position of these verses in such a manuscript seems to prove it, as well as their tone and character.

[542] Torres Amat, pp. 636-643.

[543] Of this remarkable manuscript, which is in the Royal Library at Paris, M. Tastu, in 1834, gave an account to Torres Amat, who was then preparing his “Memorias para un Diccionario de Autores Catalanes” (Barcelona, 1836, 8vo). It is numbered 7699, and consists of 260 leaves. See the Memorias, pp. xviii. and xli., and the many poetical passages from it scattered through other parts of that work. It is much to be desired that the whole should be published; but, in the mean time, the ample extracts from it given by Torres Amat leave no doubt of its general character. Another, and in some respects even more ample, account of it, with extracts, is to be found in Ochoa’s “CatÁlogo de Manuscritos” (4to, Paris, 1844, pp. 286-374). From this last description of the manuscript we learn that it contains works of thirty-one poets.

[544] Torres Amat, p. 237. Febrer says expressly, that it is translated “en rims vulgars Cathalans.” The first verses are as follows, word for word from the Italian:—

En lo mig del cami de nostra vida

Me retrobe per una selva oscura, etc.,

and the last is—

L’amor qui mou lo sol e les stelles.

It was done at Barcelona, and finished August 1, 1428, according to the MS. copy in the Escurial.

[545] Don Quixote, Parte I. c. 6, where Tirante is saved in the conflagration of the mad knight’s library. But Southey is of quite a different opinion. See ante, note to Chap. XI. The best accounts of it are those by Clemencin in his edition of Don Quixote, (Tom. I. pp. 132-134,) by Diosdado, “De Prima TypographiÆ HispanicÆ Ætate,” (RomÆ, 1794, 4to, p. 32,) and by Mendez, “TypographÍa EspaÑola” (Madrid, 1796, 4to, pp. 72-75). What is in Ximeno (Tom. I. p. 12) and Fuster (Tom. I. p. 10) goes on the false supposition that the Tirante was written in Spanish before 1383, and printed in 1480. It was, in fact, originally written in Portuguese, but was printed first in the Valencian dialect, in 1490. Of this edition only two copies are known to exist, for one of which £300 was paid in 1825. Repertorio Americano, LÓndres, 1827, 8vo, Tom. IV. pp. 57-60.

[546] The Life of Ausias March is found in Ximeno, “Escritores de Valencia,” (Tom. I. p. 41,) and Fuster’s continuation of it, (Tom. I. pp. 12, 15, 24,) and in the ample notes of CerdÁ y Rico to the “Diana” of Gil Polo (1802, pp. 290, 293, 486). For his connection with the Prince of Viana,—“Mozo,” as Mariana beautifully says of him, “dignisimo de mejor fortuna, y de padre mas manso,”—see Zurita, Anales, (Lib. XVII. c. 24,) and the graceful Life of the unfortunate prince by Quintana, in the first volume of his “EspaÑoles CÉlebres,” Madrid, Tom. I. 1807, 12mo.

[547] There are editions of his Works of 1543, 1545, 1555, and 1560, in the original Catalan, and translations of parts of them into Castilian by Romani, 1539, and Montemayor, 1562, which are united in the edition of 1579, besides one quite complete, but unpublished, by Arano y OÑate. Vicente Mariner translated March into Latin, and wrote his life. (Opera, Turnoni, 1633, 8vo, pp. 497-856.) Who was his Italian translator I do not find. See (besides Ximeno and others, cited in the last note) Rodriguez, Bib. Val., p. 68, etc. The edition of March’s Works, 1560, Barcelona, 12mo, is a neat volume, and has at the end a very short and imperfect list of obscure terms, with the corresponding Spanish, supposed to have been made by the tutor of Philip II., the Bishop of Osma, when, as we are told, he used to delight that young prince and his courtiers by reading the works of March aloud to them. I have seen none of the translations, except those of Montemayor and Mariner, both good, but the last not entire.

[548] Ximeno, Escritores de Valencia, Tom. I. p. 50, with Fuster’s continuation, Tom. I. p. 30. Rodriguez, p. 196; and CerdÁ’s notes to Polo’s Diana, pp. 300, 302, etc.

[549] “Libre de Consells fet per lo Magnifich Mestre Jaume Roig” is the title in the edition of 1531, as given by Ximeno, and in that of 1561, (Valencia, 12mo, 149 leaves,) which I use. In that of Valencia, 1735, (4to,) which is also before me, it is called according to its subject, “Lo Libre de les Dones e de Concells,” etc.

[550] OrÍgenes de la Lengua EspaÑola de Mayans y Siscar, Tom. I. p. 57.

[551]

Sorti del llit,

E mig guarit,

Yo men partÌ,

A peu anÌ

Seguint fortuna.

En Catalunya,

Un Cavaller,

Gran vandoler,

Dantitch llinatge,

Me prÈs per patge.

Ab ell vixquÌ,

Fins quem ixquÌ,

Ja home fet.

Ab lhom discret

Temps no hi perdÌ,

Dell aprenguÌ,

De ben servir,

Armes seguir,

Fuy caÇador,

Cavalcador,

De CetrerÌa,

Menescalia,

Sonar, ballar,

Fins À tallar

Ell men mostrÀ.

Libre de les Dones, Primera Part del Primer Libre, ed. 1561, 4to, f. xv. b.

The “Cavaller, gran vandoler, dantitch llinatge,” whom I have called, in the translation, “a highway knight, of ancient right,” was one of the successors of the marauding knights of the Middle Ages, who were not always without generosity or a sense of justice, and whose character is well set forth in the accounts of Roque Guinart or Rocha Guinarda, the personage referred to in the text, and found in the Second Part of Don Quixote (Capp. 60 and 61). He and his followers are all called by Cervantes Bandoleros, and are the “banished men” of “Robin Hood” and “The Nut-Brown Maid.” They took their name of Bandoleros from the shoulder-belts they wore. Calderon’s “Luis Perez, el Gallego” is founded on the history of a Bandolero supposed to have lived in the time of the Armada, 1588.

[552] The editor of the last edition that has appeared is Carlos Ros, a curious collection of Valencian proverbs by whom (in 12mo, Valencia, 1733) I have seen, and who, I believe, the year previous, printed a work on the Valencian and Castilian orthography.

[553] Fuster. Tom. I. p. 52, and Mendez, TypographÍa EspaÑola, p. 56. Roig is one of the competitors.

[554] Ximeno, Tom. I. p. 59; Fuster, Tom. I. p. 51; and the Diana of Polo, ed. CerdÁ y Rico, p. 317. His poems are in the “Cancionero General,” 1573, (leaves 240, 251, 307,) in the “Obras de Ausias March,” (1560, f. 134,) and in the “Process de les Olives,” mentioned in the next note. The “Historia de la Passio de Nostre Senyor” was printed at Valencia, in 1493 and 1564.

[555] “Lo Process de les Olives È Disputa del Jovens hi del Vels” was first printed in Barcelona, 1532. But the copy I use is of Valencia, printed by Joan de Arcos, 1561 (18mo, 40 leaves). One or two other poets took part in the discussion, and the whole seems to have grown under their hands, by successive additions, to its present state and size.

[556] There is an edition of 1497, (Mendez, p. 88,) but I use one with this title: “ComenÇa lo Somni de Joan Ioan ordenat per lo Magnifich Mossen Jaume GaÇull, Cavaller, Natural de Valencia, en Valencia, 1561” (18mo). At the end is a humorous poem by GaÇull in reply to Fenollar, who had spoken slightingly of many words used in Valencian, which GaÇull defends. It is called “La Brama dels Llauradors del Orto de Valencia.” GaÇull also occurs in the “Process de les Olives,” and in the poetical contest of 1474. See his Life in Ximeno, Tom. I. p. 59, and Fuster, Tom I. p. 37.

[557] Ximeno, Tom. I. p. 64.

[558] The poems of Ferrandis are in the Cancionero General of Seville, 1535, ff. 17, 18, and in the Cancionero of Antwerp, 1573, ff. 31-34. The notice of the certamen of 1511 is in Fuster, Tom. I. pp. 56-58.

Some other poets in the ancient Valencian have been mentioned, as Juan Roiz de Corella, (Ximeno, Tom. I. p. 62,) a friend of the unhappy Prince Carlos de Viana; two or three, by no means without merit, who remain anonymous (Fuster, Tom. I. pp. 284-293); and several who joined in a certamen at Valencia, in 1498, in honor of St. Christopher (Ibid., pp. 296, 297). But the attempt to press into the service and to place in the thirteenth century the manuscript in the Escurial containing the poems of Sta. MarÍa Egypciaca and King Apollonius, already referred to (ante, p. 24) among the earliest Castilian poems, is necessarily a failure. Ibid., p. 284.

[559] Cancionero General, 1573, f. 251, and elsewhere.

[560] Ximeno, Tom. I. p. 61. Fuster, Tom. I. p. 54. Cancionero General, 1573, ff. 241, 251, 316, 318. CerdÁ’s notes to Polo’s Diana, 1802, p. 304. ViÑoles, in the PrÓlogo to the translation of the Latin Chronicle noticed on p. 216, says, “He has ventured to stretch out his rash hand and put it into the pure, elegant, and gracious Castilian, which, without falsehood or flattery, may, among the many barbarous and savage dialects of our own Spain, be called Latin-sounding and most elegant.” Suma de Todas las CrÓnicas, Valencia, 1510, folio, f. 2.

[561] The religious poems of Tallante begin, I believe, all the Cancioneros Generales, from 1511 to 1573.

[562] Cancionero General, 1573, ff. 238, 248, 300, 301. Fuster, Tom. I. p. 65; and CerdÁ’s notes to Gil Polo’s Diana, p. 306.

[563] Ximeno, Tom. I. p. 102. Fuster, Tom. I. p. 87. Diana de Polo, ed. CerdÁ, 326. Cancionero General, 1573, ff. 185, 222, 225, 228, 230, 305-307.

[564] His Works were first printed with the following title: “La ArmonÍa del Parnas mes numerosa en las PoesÍas varias del Atlant del Cel PoÉtic, lo Dr. Vicent Garcia” (Barcelona, 1700, 4to, 201 pp.). There has been some question about the proper date of this edition, and therefore I give it as it is in my copy. (See Torres Amat, Memorias, pp. 271-274.) It consists chiefly of lyrical poetry, sonnets, dÉcimas, redondillas, ballads, etc.; but at the end is a drama called “Santa Barbara,” in three short jornadas, with forty or fifty personages, some allegorical and some supernatural, and the whole as fantastic as any thing of the age that produced it. Another edition of Garcia’s Works was printed at Barcelona in 1840, and a notice of him occurs in the Semanario Pintoresco, 1843, p. 84.

[565] The Valencian has always remained a sweet dialect. Cervantes praises it for its “honeyed grace” more than once. See the second act of the “Gran Sultana,” and the opening of the twelfth chapter in the third book of “Persiles and Sigismunda.” Mayans y Siscar loses no occasion of honoring it; but he was a native of Valencia, and full of Valencian prejudices.

The literary history of the kingdom of Valencia—both that of the period when its native dialect prevailed, and that of the more recent period during which the Castilian has enjoyed the supremacy—has been illustrated with remarkable diligence and success. The first person who devoted himself to it was Josef Rodriguez, a learned ecclesiastic, who was born in its capital in 1630, and died there in 1703, just at the moment when his “Biblioteca Valentina” was about to be issued from the press, and when, in fact, all but a few pages of it had been printed. But though it was so near to publication, a long time elapsed before it finally appeared; for his friend, Ignacio Savalls, to whom the duty of completing it was intrusted, and who at once busied himself with his task, died, at last, in 1746, without having quite accomplished it.

Meanwhile, however, copies of the imperfect work had got abroad, and one of them came into the hands of Vicente Ximeno, a Valencian, as well as Rodriguez, and, like him, interested in the literary history of his native kingdom. At first, Ximeno conceived the project of completing the work of his predecessor; but soon determined rather to use its materials in preparing on the same subject another and a larger one of his own, whose notices should come down to his own time. This he soon completed, and published it at Valencia, in 1747-49, in two volumes, folio, with the title of “Escritores de Valencia,”—not, however, so quickly that the Biblioteca of Rodriguez had not been fairly launched into the world, in the same city, in 1747, a few months before the first volume of Ximeno’s appeared.

The dictionary of Ximeno, who died in 1764, brings down the literary history of Valencia to 1748, from which date to 1829 it is continued by the “Biblioteca Valenciana” of Justo Pastor Fuster, (Valencia, 1827-30, 2 tom., folio,) a valuable work, containing a great number of new articles for the earlier period embraced by the labors of Rodriguez and Ximeno, and making additions to many which they had left imperfect.

In the five volumes, folio, of which the whole series consists, there are 2841 articles. How many of those in Ximeno relate to authors noticed by Rodriguez, and how many of those in Fuster relate to authors noticed by either or both of his predecessors, I have not examined; but the number is, I think, smaller than might be anticipated; while, on the other hand, the new articles and the additions to the old ones are more considerable and important. Perhaps, taking the whole together, no portion of Europe equally large has had its intellectual history more carefully investigated than the kingdom of Valencia;—a circumstance the more remarkable, if we bear in mind that Rodriguez, the first person who undertook the work, was, as he says, the first who attempted such a labor in any modern language, and that Fuster, the last of them, though evidently a man of curious learning, was by occupation a bookbinder, and was led to his investigations, in a considerable degree, by his interest in the rare books that were, from time to time, intrusted to his mechanical skill.

[566] The Catalans have always felt this regret, and have never reconciled themselves heartily to the use of the Castilian; holding their own dialect to have been, in the time of Ferdinand and Isabella, more abundant and harmonious than the prouder one that has so far displaced it. Villanueva, Viage Á las Iglesias, Valencia, 1821, 8vo, Tom. VII. p. 202.

[567] One of the most valuable monuments of the old dialects of Spain is a translation of the Bible into Catalan, made by Bonifacio Ferrer, who died in 1477, and was the brother of St. Vincent Ferrer. It was printed at Valencia, in 1478, (folio,) but the Inquisition came so soon to suppress it, that it never exercised much influence on the literature or language of the country; nearly every copy of it having been destroyed. Extracts from it and sufficient accounts of it may be found in Castro, Bib. EspaÑola, (Tom. I. pp. 444-448,) and McCrie’s “Reformation in Spain” (Edinburgh, 1829, 8vo, pp. 191 and 414). Sismondi, at the end of his discussion of the ProvenÇal literature, in his “LittÉrature du Midi de l’Europe,” has some remarks on its decay, which in their tone are not entirely unlike those in the last pages of this chapter, and to which I would refer both to illustrate and to justify my own.

[568] The University of Salamanca owes its first endowment to Alfonso X., 1254; but in 1310 it had already fallen into great decay, and did not become an efficient and frequented university till some time afterwards. Hist. de la Universidad de Salamanca, por Pedro Chacon. Seminario Erudito, Madrid, 1789, 4to, Tom. XVIII. pp. 13, 21, etc.

[569] Tiraboschi, Storia della Letteratura Italiana, Roma, 1782, 4to, Tom. IV. Lib. I. c. 3; and Fuster, Biblioteca Valenciana, Tom. I. pp. 2, 9.

[570] Tiraboschi, ut sup.

[571] Tiraboschi, Tom. IV. Lib. I. c. 3, sect. 8. Antonio, Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Tom. II. pp. 169, 170.

[572] Antonio, Bib. Nova, Tom. I. pp. 132-138.

[573] Prescott’s Hist. of Ferdinand and Isabella, Introd., Section 2; to which add the account of the residence in Barcelona of Carlos de Viana, in Quintana’s Life of that unhappy prince, (Vidas de EspaÑoles CÉlebres, Tom. I.,) and the very curious notice of Barcelona in Leo Von RÖzmital’s Ritter-Hof-und-Pilger-Reise, 1465-67, Stuttgard, 1844, 8vo, p. 111.

[574] Zurita, Anales de Aragon, Zaragoza, 1604, folio, Lib. IV. c. 13, etc.; Mariana, Historia, Lib. XIV. c. 6;—both important, but especially the first, as giving the Spanish view of a case which we are more in the habit of considering either in its Italian or its French relations.

[575] Schmidt, Geschichte Aragoniens im Mittelalter, pp. 337-354. Heeren, Geschichte des Studiums der Classischen Litteratur, GÖttingen, 1797, 8vo, Tom. II. pp. 109-111.

[576] Prescott’s Hist. of Ferdinand and Isabella, Vol. III.

[577] See ante, p. 180.

[578] “Con vos que emendays las Obras de Dante,” says Gomez Manrique, in a poem addressed to his uncle, the great Marquis, and found in the “Cancionero General,” 1573, f. 76. b;—words which, however we may interpret them, imply a familiar knowledge of Dante, which the Marquis himself yet more directly announces in his well-known letter to the Constable of Portugal. Sanchez, PoesÍas Anteriores, Tom. I. p. liv.

[579] Mariana, Historia, Madrid, 1780, fol., Tom. II. pp. 236-407. See also the very remarkable details given by Fernan Perez de Guzman, in his “Generaciones y Semblanzas,” c. 33.

[580] Castro, Bib. EspaÑola, Tom. I. pp. 265-346.

[581] See the amusing letters in the “Centon Epistolario” of Fern. Gomez de Cibdareal, Nos. 47, 49, 56, and 76;—a work, however, whose authority will hereafter be called in question.

[582] Ibid., EpÍstola 105.

[583] Minne is the word for love in the “Nibelungenlied” and in the oldest German poetry generally, and is applied occasionally to spiritual and religious affections, but almost always to the love connected with gallantry. There has been a great deal of discussion about its etymology and primitive meanings in the Lexicons of Wachter, MÉnage, Adelung, etc.; but it is enough for our purpose to know that the word itself is peculiarly appropriate to the fanciful and more or less conceited school of poetry that everywhere appeared under the influences of chivalry. It is the word that gave birth to the French mignon, the English minion, etc.

[584] CrÓnica de D. Juan el Segundo, AÑo 1454, c. 2.

[585] Generaciones y Semblanzas, Cap. 33. Diego de Valera, who, like Guzman, just cited, had much personal intercourse with the king, gives a similar account of him, in a style no less natural and striking. “He was,” says that chronicler, “devout and humane; liberal and gentle; tolerably well taught in the Latin tongue; bold, gracious, and of winning ways. He was tall of stature, and his bearing was regal, with much natural ease. Moreover, he was a good musician; sang, played, and danced; and wrote good verses [trobaua muy bien]. Hunting pleased him much; he read gladly books of philosophy and poetry, and was learned in matters belonging to the Church.” CrÓnica de HyspaÑa, Salamanca, 1495, folio, f. 89.

[586] Fernan Gomez de Cibdareal, Centon Epistolario, Ep. 20.

[587] They are commonly printed with the Works of Juan de Mena, as in the edition of Seville, 1534, folio, f. 104, but are often found elsewhere.

Amor, yo nunca pensÉ,

Que tan poderoso eras,

Que podrias tener maneras

Para trastornar la fÉ,

Fasta agora que lo sÉ.

Pensaba que conocido

Te debiera yo tener,

Mas no pudiera creer

Que fueras tan mal sabido.

Ni jamas no lo pensÉ,

Aunque poderoso eras,

Que podrias tener maneras

Para trastornar la fÉ,

Fasta agora que lo sÉ.

[588] His family, at the time of his birth, possessed the only marquisate in the kingdom. Salazar de Mendoza, OrÍgen de las Dignidades Seglares de Castilla y Leon, Toledo, 1618, folio, Lib. III. c. xii.

[589] Fernan Perez de Guzman, Gen. y Semblanzas, Cap. 28.

[590] CrÓnica de D. Juan el Segundo, AÑo 1407, Cap. 4, and 1434, Cap. 8, where his character is pithily given in the following words: “Este caballero fue muy grande letrado É supo muy poco en lo que le cumplia.” In the “Comedias Escogidas” (Madrid, 4to, Tom. IX., 1657) is a poor play entitled “El Rey Enrique el Enfermo, de seis Ingenios,” in which that unhappy king, contrary to the truth of history, is represented as making the Marquis of Villena Master of Calatrava, in order to dissolve his marriage and obtain his wife. Who were the six wits that invented this calumny does not appear.

[591] Zurita, Anales de Aragon, Lib. XIV. c. 22. The best notice of the Marquis of Villena is in Juan Antonio Pellicer, “Biblioteca de Traductores EspaÑoles,” (Madrid, 1778, 8vo, Tom. II. pp. 58-76,) to which, however, the accounts in Antonio (Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Lib. X. c. 3) and Mariana (Hist., Lib. XX. c. 6) should be added. The character of a bold, unscrupulous, ambitious man, given to Villena by Larra, in his novel entitled “El Doncel de Don Enrique el Doliente,” published at Madrid, about 1835, has no proper foundation in history.

[592] Pellicer speaks of the traditions of Villena’s necromancy as if still current in his time (loc. cit. p. 65). How absurd some of them were may be seen in a note of Pellicer to his edition of Don Quixote, (Parte I. c. 49,) and in the Dissertation of FeyjoÓ, “Teatro CrÍtico” (Madrid, 1751, 8vo, Tom. VI. Disc. ii. sect. 9). Mariana evidently regarded the Marquis as a dealer in the black arts, (Hist., Lib. XIX. c. 8,) or, at least, chose to have it thought he did.

[593] Lope de Barrientos was confessor to John II., and perhaps his knowledge of these very books led him to compose a treatise against Divination, which has never been printed. (Antonio, Bib. Vetus, Lib. X. c. 11,) but of which I have ample extracts, through the kindness of D. Pascual de Gayangos, and in which the author says that among the books burned was the one called “Raziel,” from the name of one of the angels who guarded the entrance to Paradise, and taught the art of divination to a son of Adam, from whose traditions the book in question was compiled. It may be worth while to add, that this Barrientos was a Dominican, one of the order of monks to whom, thirty years afterwards, Spain was chiefly indebted for the Inquisition, which soon bettered his example by burning, not only books, but men. He died in 1469, having filled, at different times, some of the principal offices in the kingdom.

[594] Cibdareal, Centon Epistolario, Epist. lxvi.

[595] Coplas 126-128.

[596] It is found in the “Cancionero General,” 1573, (ff. 34-37,) and is a Vision in imitation of Dante’s.

[597] The “Arte Cisoria Ó Tratado del Arte de cortar del Cuchillo” was first printed under the auspices of the Library of the Escurial, (Madrid, 1766, 4to,) from a manuscript in that precious collection marked with the fire of 1671. It is not likely soon to come to a second edition. If I were to compare it with any contemporary work, it would be with the old English “Treatyse on Fyshynge with an Angle,” sometimes attributed to Dame Juliana Berners, but it lacks the few literary merits found in that little work.

[598] All we have of this “Arte de Trobar” is in Mayans y Siscar, “OrÍgenes de la Lengua EspaÑola” (Madrid, 1737, 12mo, Tom. II. pp. 321-342). It seems to have been written in 1433.

[599] The best account of them is in Pellicer, Bib. de Traductores, loc. cit. I am sorry to add, that the specimen given of the translation from Virgil, though short, affords some reason to doubt whether the Marquis was a good Latin scholar. It is in prose, and the Preface sets forth that it was written at the earnest request of John, King of Navarre, whose curiosity about Virgil had been excited by the reverential notices of him in Dante’s “Divina Commedia.” See, also, Memorias de la Academia de Historia, Tom. VI. p. 455, note. In the King’s Library at Paris is a prose translation of the last nine books of Virgil’s Æneid, made, in 1430, by a Juan de Villena, who qualifies himself as a “servant of IÑigo Lopez de Mendoza.” (Ochoa, CatÁlogo de Manuscritos, Paris, 1844, 4to, p. 375.) It would be curious to ascertain whether the two have any connection, as both seem to be connected with the Marquis of Santillana.

[600] The “Trabajos de Hercules” is one of the rarest books in the world, though there are editions of it of 1483 and 1499, and perhaps one of 1502. The copy which I use is of the first edition, and belongs to Don Pascual de Gayangos. It was printed at Çamora, by Centenera, having been completed, as the colophon tells us, on the 15th of January, 1483. It fills thirty leaves in folio, double columns, and is illustrated by eleven curious woodcuts, well done for the period and country. The mistakes made about it are remarkable, and render the details I have given of some consequence. Antonio, (Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Tom. II. p. 222,) Velasquez, (OrÍgenes de la PoesÍa Castellana, 4to, MÁlaga, 1754, p. 49,) L. F. Moratin, (Obras, ed. de la Academia, Madrid, 1830, 8vo, Tom. I. Parte I. p. 114,) and even Torres Amat, in his “Memorias,” (Barcelona, 1836, 8vo, p. 669,) all speak of it as a poem. Of the edition printed at Burgos, in 1499, and mentioned in Mendez, Typog. Esp., (p. 289,) I have never seen a copy, and, except the above-mentioned copy of the first edition and an imperfect one in the Royal Library at Paris, I know of none of any edition;—so rare is it become.

[601] See Heeren, Geschichte der Class. Litteratur im Mittelalter, GÖttingen, 8vo, Tom. II., 1801, pp. 126-131. From the Advertencia to the Marquis of Villena’s translation of Virgil, it would seem that even Virgil was hardly known in Spain in the beginning of the fifteenth century.

[602] Another work of the Marquis of Villena is mentioned in Sempere y Guarinos, “Historia del Luxo de EspaÑa,” (Madrid, 1788, 8vo, Tom. I. pp. 176-179,) called “El Triunfo de las Donas,” and is said to have been found by him in a manuscript of the fifteenth century, “with other works of the same wise author.” The extract given by Sempere is on the fops of the time, and is written with spirit.

[603] The best account of Macias and of his verses is in Bellermann’s “Alte LiederbÜcher der Portuguiesen” (Berlin, 1840, 4to, pp. 24-26); to which may well be added, Argote de Molina, “Nobleza del Andaluzia,” (Sevilla, 1588, folio, Lib. II. c. 148, f. 272,) Castro, “Biblioteca EspaÑola,” (Tom. I. p. 312,) and Cortina’s notes to Bouterwek (p. 195). But the proofs of his early and wide-spread fame are to be sought in Sanchez, “PoesÍas Anteriores” (Tom. I. p. 138); in the “Cancionero General,” 1535 (ff. 67, 91); in Juan de Mena, Copla 105, with the notes on it in the edition of Mena’s Works, 1566; in “Celestina,” Act II.; in several plays of Calderon, such as “Para vencer Amor querer vencerlo,” and “Qual es mayor Perfeccion”; in GÓngora’s ballads; and in many passages of Lope de Vega and Cervantes. There are notices of Macias also in Ochoa, “Manuscritos EspaÑoles,” Paris, 1844, 4to, p. 505. In Vol. XLVIII. of “Comedias Escogidas,” (1704, 4to,) is an anonymous play on his adventures and death, entitled “El EspaÑol mas Amante,” in which the unhappy Macias is killed at the moment the Marquis of Villena arrives to release him from prison;—and in our own times, Larra has made him the hero of his “Doncel de Don Enrique el Doliente,” already referred to, and of a tragedy that bears his name, “Macias,” neither of them true to the facts of history.

[604] Perez de Guzman, Generaciones y Semblanzas, Cap. 9.

[605] This great family is early connected with the poetry of Spain. The grandfather of IÑigo sacrificed his own life voluntarily to save the life of John I. at the battle of Aljubarrota in 1385, and became in consequence the subject of that stirring and glorious ballad,—

Si el cavallo vos han muerto,

Subid, Rey, en mi cavallo.

It is found at the end of the Eighth Part of the Romancero, 1597, and is translated with much spirit by Lockhart, who, however, evidently did not seek exactness in his version.

[606] CrÓnica de D. Juan el Segundo, AÑo 1414, Cap. 2.

[607] It is Perez de Guzman, uncle of the Marquis, who declares (Generaciones y Semblanzas, Cap. 9) that the father of the Marquis had larger estates than any other Castilian knight; to which may be added what Oviedo says so characteristically of the young nobleman, that, “as he grew up, he recovered his estates partly by law and partly by force of arms, and so began forthwith to be accounted much of a man.” Batalla I. Quinquagena i. DiÁlogo 8, MS.

[608] CrÓnica de D. Juan el Segundo, AÑo 1428, Cap. 7.

[609] Sanchez, PoesÍas Anteriores, Tom. I. pp. v., etc.

[610] CrÓnica de D. Juan el Segundo, AÑo 1438, Cap. 2; 1445, Cap. 17; and Salazar de Mendoza, Dignidades de Castilla, Lib. III. c. 14.

[611] CrÓnica de D. Juan el Segundo, AÑo 1432, Capp. 4 and 5.

[612] Ibid., AÑo 1433, Cap. 2.

[613] Ibid., AÑo 1449, Cap. 11.

[614] Ibid., AÑo 1452, Capp. 1, etc.

[615] The principal facts in the life of the Marquis of Santillana are to be gathered—as, from his rank and consideration in the state, might be expected—out of the Chronicle of John II., in which he constantly appears after the year 1414; but a very lively and successful sketch of him is to be found in the fourth chapter of Pulgar’s “Claros Varones,” and an elaborate, but ill-digested, biography in the first volume of Sanchez, “PoesÍas Anteriores.”

[616] In the “Introduction del Marques Á los Proverbios,” Anvers, 1552, 18mo, f. 150.

[617] Pulgar, Claros Varones, ut supra.

[618] See the preceding notice of Villena.

[619] In the Introduction to his Proverbs, he boasts of his familiarity with the ProvenÇal rules of versifying.

[620] It is in the oldest Cancionero General, and copied from that into Faber’s “Floresta,” No. 87.

[621] The Serranas of the Arcipreste de Hita were noticed when speaking of his works; but the six by the Marquis of Santillana approach nearer to the ProvenÇal model, and have a higher poetical merit. For their form and Structure, see Diez, Troubadours, p. 114. The one specially referred to in the text is so beautiful, that I add a part of it, with the corresponding portion of the one by Riquier.

Moza tan fermosa

Non vi en la frontera,

Como una vaquera

De la Finojosa.

· · · · ·

En un verde prado

De rosas e flores,

Guardando ganado

Con otros pastores,

La vi tan fermosa,

Que apenas creyera,

Que fuese vaquera

De la Finojosa.

Sanchez, PoesÍas Anteriores, Tom. I. p. xliv.

The following is the opening of that by Riquier:—

Gaya pastorelha

Trobey l’ autre dia

En una ribeira,

Que per caut la belha

Sos anhels tenia

Desotz un ombreira;

Un capelh fazia

De flors e sezia,

Sus en la fresqueria, etc.

Raynouard, Troubadours, Tom. III. p. 470.

None of the ProvenÇal poets, I think, wrote so beautiful Pastoretas as Riquier; so that the Marquis chose a good model.

[622] See the Letter to the Constable of Portugal.

[623] Cancionero General, 1573, f. 34. It was, of course, written after 1434, that being the year Villena died.

[624] Faber, Floresta, ut sup.

[625] Sanchez, PoesÍas Anteriores, Tom. I. pp. xx., xxi., xl. Quintana, PoesÍas Castellanas, Madrid, 1807, 12mo, Tom. I. p. 13. There are imperfect discussions about the introduction of sonnets into Spanish poetry in Argote de Molina’s “Discurso,” at the end of the “Conde Lucanor,” (1575, f. 97,) and in Herrera’s edition of Garcilasso (Sevilla, 1580, 8vo, p. 75). But all doubts are put at rest, and all questions answered, in the edition of the “Rimas Ineditas de Don IÑigo Lopez de Mendoza,” published at Paris, by Ochoa (1844, 8vo); where, in a letter by the Marquis, dated May 4, 1444, and addressed, with his Poems, to DoÑa Violante de Pradas, he tells her expressly that he imitated the Italian masters in the composition of his poems.

[626] They are found in the Cancionero General of 1573, ff. 24, 27, 37, 40, and 234.

[627] Sanchez, PoesÍas Anteriores, Tom. I. pp. 143-147.

[628] It received its name from Ochoa, who first printed it in his edition of the Marquis’s Poems (pp. 97-240); but Amador de los Rios, in his “Estudios sobre los Judios de EspaÑa,” (Madrid, 1848, 8vo, p. 342,) gives reasons which induce him to believe it to be the work of Pablo de Sta. MarÍa, who will be noticed hereafter.

[629] Faber, Floresta, No. 743. Sanchez, Tom. I. p. xli. Claros Varones de Pulgar, ed. 1775, p. 224. CrÓnica de D. Juan IIº, AÑo 1448, Cap. 4.

[630] Cancionero General, 1573, f. 37.

[631] Two or three other poems are given by Ochoa: the “Pregunta de Nobles,” a sort of moral lament of the poet, that he cannot see and know the great men of all times; the “Doze Trabajos de Ercoles,” which has sometimes been confounded with the prose work of Villena bearing the same title; and the “Infierno de Enamoradas,” which was afterwards imitated by Garci Sanchez de Badajoz. All three are short and of little value.

[632] For example, CrÓnica de D. Juan el Segundo, AÑo 1435, Cap. 9.

[633] In the letter to DoÑa Violante de Pradas, he says he began it immediately after the battle.

[634] Speaking of the dialogue he heard about the battle, the Marquis says, using almost the very words of Dante,—

Tan pauroso,

Que solo en pensarlo me vence piedad.

[635] As a specimen of the best parts of the Comedieta, I copy the paraphrase from a manuscript, better, I think, than that used by Ochoa:—

ST. XVI.

Benditos aquellos, que, con el aÇada,

Sustentan sus vidas y biven contentos,

Y de quando en quando conoscen morada,

Y sufren placientes las lluvias y vientos.

Ca estos no temen los sus movimientos,

Nin saben las cosas del tiempo pasado,

Nin de las presentes se hacen cuidado,

Nin las venideras do an nascimientos.

ST. XVII.

Benditos aquellos que siguen las fieras

Con las gruesas redes y canes ardidos,

Y saben las troxas y las delanteras,

Y fieren de arcos en tiempos devidos.

Ca estos por saÑa no son comovidos,

Nin vana cobdicia los tiene subjetos,

Nin quieren tesoros, ni sienten defetos,

Nin turba fortuna sus libres sentidos.

[636] There is another collection of proverbs made by the Marquis of Santillana, that is to be found in Mayans y Siscar, “OrÍgenes de la Lengua Castellana” (Tom. II. pp. 179, etc.). They are, however, neither rhymed nor glossed; but simply arranged in alphabetical order, as they were gathered from the lips of the common people, or, as the collector says, “from the old women in their chimney-corners.” For an account of the printed editions of the rhymed proverbs prepared for Prince Henry, see Mendez, Typog. Esp., p. 196, and Sanchez, Tom. I. p. xxxiv. The seventeenth proverb, or that on Prudence, may be taken as a fair specimen of the whole, all being in the same measure and manner. It is as follows:—

Si fueres gran eloquente

Bien serÁ,

Pero mas te converrÁ

Ser prudente.

Que el prudente es obediente

Todavia

A moral filosofÍa

Y sirviente.

A few of the hundred proverbs have a prose commentary by the Marquis himself; but neither have these the good fortune to escape the learned discussions of the Toledan Doctor. The whole collection is spoken of slightingly by the wise author of the “DiÁlogo de las Lenguas.” Mayans y Siscar, OrÍgenes, Tom. II. p. 13.

The same Pero Diaz, who burdened the Proverbs of the Marquis of Santillana with a commentary, prepared, at the request of John II., a collection of proverbs from Seneca, which were first printed in 1482, and afterwards went through several editions. (Mendez, Typog., pp. 266 and 197.) I have one of Seville, 1500 (fol., 66 leaves). They are about one hundred and fifty in number, and the prose gloss with which each is accompanied seems in better taste and more becoming its position than it does in the case of the rhymed proverbs of the Marquis.

[637] In the Preface to the “Coronacion,” Obras, AlcalÁ, 1566, 12mo, f. 260.

[638] This important letter—which, from the notice of it by Argote de Molina, (Nobleza, 1588, f. 335,) was a sort of acknowledged introduction to the Cancionero of the Marquis—is found, with learned notes to it, in the first volume of Sanchez. The Constable of Portugal, to whom it was addressed, died in 1466.

[639] I do not account him learned, because he had not the accomplishment common to all learned men of his time,—that of speaking Latin. This appears from the very quaint and rare treatise of the “Vita Beata,” by Juan de Lucena, his contemporary and friend, where (ed. 1483, fol., f. ii. b) the Marquis is made to say, “Me veo defetuoso de letras Latinas,” and adds, that the Bishop of Burgos and Juan de Mena would have carried on in Latin the discussion recorded in that treatise, instead of carrying it on in Spanish, if he had been able to join them in that learned language. That the Marquis could read Latin, however, is probable from his works, which are full of allusions to Latin authors, and sometimes contain imitations of them.

[640] The chief materials for the life of Juan de Mena are to be found in some poor verses by Francisco Romero, in his “Epicedio en la Muerte del Maestro Hernan NuÑez,” (Salamanca, 1578, 12mo, pp. 485, etc.,) at the end of the “Refranes de Hernan NuÑez.” Concerning the place of his birth there is no doubt. He alludes to it himself (Trescientas, Copla 124) in a way that does him honor.

[641] Cibdareal, Epist. XX., XXIII.

[642] Ibid., Epist. XLVII.

[643] Ibid., Epist. XLIX.

[644] For the first verses, see Castro, Bibl. EspaÑola, Tom. I. p. 331; and for those on the Constable, see his Chronicle, Milano, 1546, fol., f. 60. b, TÍt. 95.

[645] The verses inscribed “Do Ifante Dom Pedro, Fylho del Rey Dom Joam, em Loor de Joam de Mena,” with Juan de Mena’s answer, a short rejoinder by the Infante, and a conclusion, are in the Cancioneiro de Rresende, (Lisboa, 1516, folio,) f. 72. b. See, also, Die Alten LiederbÜcher der Portugiesen, von C. F. Bellermann, (Berlin, 1840, 4to, pp. 27, 64,) and Mendez, TypographÍa (p. 137, note). This Infante Don Pedro is, I suppose, the one alluded to as a great traveller in Don Quixote (Part II., end of Chap. 23); but Pellicer and Clemencin give us no light on the matter.

[646] See the Dialogue of Juan de Lucena, “La Vita Beata,” passim, in which Juan de Mena is one of the principal speakers.

[647] He stood well with the king and the Infantes, with the Constable, with the Marquis of Santillana, etc.

[648] Ant. Ponz, Viage de EspaÑa, Madrid, 1787, 12mo, Tom. X. p. 38. Clemencin, note to Don Quixote, Parte II. c. 44, Tom. V. p. 379.

[649] Cibdareal, Epist. XX. No less than twelve of the hundred and five letters of the courtly leech are addressed to the poet, showing, if they are genuine, how much favor Juan de Mena enjoyed.

[650] The last, which is not without humor, is twice alluded to in Cibdareal, viz., Epist. XXXIII. and XXXVI., and seems to have been liked at court and by the king.

[651] The minor poems of Juan de Mena are to be found chiefly in the old Cancioneros Generales; but some must be sought in the old editions of his own works. For example, in the valuable folio one of 1534, in which the “Trescientas” and the “Coronacion” form separate publications, with separate titles, pagings, and colophons, each is followed by a few of the author’s short poems.

[652] The author of the “DiÁlogo de las Lenguas” (Mayans y Siscar, OrÍgenes, Tom. II. p. 148) complained of the frequent obscurities in Juan de Mena’s poetry, three centuries ago,—a fault made abundantly apparent in the elaborate explanations of his dark passages by the two oldest and most learned of his commentators.

[653] Juan de Mena has always stood well with his countrymen, if he has not been absolutely popular. Verses by him appeared, during his lifetime, in the Cancionero of Baena, and immediately afterwards in the Chronicle of the Constable. Others are in the collection of poems already noticed, printed at Saragossa in 1492, and in another collection of the same period, but without date. They are in all the old Cancioneros Generales, and in a succession of separate editions, from 1496 to our own times. And besides all this, the learned Hernan NuÑez de Guzman printed a commentary on them in 1499, and the still more learned Francisco Sanchez de las Brozas, commonly called El Brocense, printed another in 1582; one or the other of which accompanies the poems for their elucidation in nearly every edition since.

[654] CrÓnica de D. Juan el Segundo, AÑo 1436, c. 3. Mena, Trescientas, Cop. 160-162.

Aquel que en la barca parece sentado,

Vestido, en engaÑo de las bravas ondas,

En aguas crueles, ya mas que no hondas,

Con mucha gran gente en la mar anegado,

Es el valiente, no bien fortunado,

Muy virtuoso, perÍnclito Conde

De Niebla, que todos sabeis bien adonde

DiÓ fin al dia del curso hadado.

Y los que lo cercan por el derredor,

Puesto que fuessen magnÍficos hombres,

Los tÍtulos todos de todos sus nombres,

El nombre les cubre de aquel su seÑor;

Que todos los hechos que son de valor

Para se mostrar por sÍ cada uno,

Quando se juntan y van de consuno,

Pierden el nombre delante el mayor.

Arlanza, Pisuerga, y aun Carrion,

Gozan de nombre de rios; empero

Despues de juntados llamamos los Duero;

Hacemos de muchos una relacion.

[655] Cibdareal, Epist. XX.

[656] Ibid., Epist. XLIX.

[657] Ibid., Epist. XX.

[658] They are printed separately in the Cancionero General of 1573; but do not appear at all in the edition of the Works of the poet in 1566, and were not commented upon by Hernan NuÑez. It is, indeed, doubtful whether they were really written by Juan de Mena. If they were, they must probably have been produced after the king’s death, for they are far from being flattering to him. On this account, I am disposed to think they are not genuine; for the poet seems to have permitted his great eulogies of the king and of the Constable to stand after the death of both of them.

[659] Thus fi, Valencian or ProvenÇal for hijo, in the “Trescientas,” Copla 37, and trinquete for foresail, in Copla 165, may serve as specimens. Lope de Vega (Obras Sueltas, Tom. IV. p. 474) complains of Juan de Mena’s Latinisms, which are indeed very awkward and abundant, and cites the following line:—

El amor es ficto, vaniloco, pigro.

I do not remember it; but it is as bad as some of the worst verses of the same sort for which Ronsard has been ridiculed. It should be observed, however, that, in the earliest periods of the Castilian language, there was a greater connection with the French than there was in the time of Juan de Mena. Thus, in the “Poem of the Cid,” we have cuer for heart, tiesta for head, etc.; in Berceo, we have asemblar, to meet; sopear, to sup, etc. (See Don Quixote, ed. Clemencin, 1835, Tom. IV. p. 56.) If, therefore, we find a few French words in Juan de Mena that are no longer used, like sage, which he makes a dissyllable guttural to rhyme with viage in Copla 167, we may presume he found them already in the language, from which they have since been dropped. But Juan de Mena was, in all respects, too bold; and, as the learned Sarmiento says of him in a manuscript which I possess, “Many of his words are not at all Castilian, and were never used either before his time or after it.”

[660] The accounts of Villasandino are found in Antonio, Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Tom. II. p. 341; and Sanchez, PoesÍas Anteriores, Tom. I. pp. 200, etc. His earlier poems are in the Academy’s edition of the Chronicles of Ayala, Tom. II. pp. 604, 615, 621, 626, 646; but the mass of his works as yet printed is in the Cancionero of Baena, extracted by Castro, Biblioteca EspaÑola, Tom. I. pp. 268-296, etc.

[661] Sanchez, Tom. I. p. lx.

[662] The Hymn in question is in Castro, Tom. I. p. 269; but, as a specimen of Villasandino’s easiest manner, I prefer the following verses, which he wrote for Count Pero NiÑo, to be given to the Lady Beatrice, of whom, as was noticed when speaking of his Chronicle, the Count was enamoured:—

La que siempre obedecÍ,

E obedezco todavia,

Mal pecado, solo un dia

Non se le membra de mi.

PerdÍ

Meu tempo en servir

A la que me fas vevir

Coidoso desque la vÍ, etc.

But as the editor of the Chronicle says, (Madrid, 1782, 4to, p. 223,) “They are verses that might be attributed to any other gallant or any other lady, so that it seems as if Villasandino prepared such couplets to be given to the first person that should ask for them”;—words cited here, because they apply to a great deal of the poetry of the time of John II., which deals often in the coldest commonplaces, and some of which was used, no doubt, as this was.

[663] The notices of Francisco Imperial are in Sanchez (Tom. I. pp. lx., 205, etc.); in Argote de Molina’s “Nobleza del Andaluzia” (1588, ff. 244, 260); and his Discourse prefixed to the “Vida del Gran Tamorlan” (Madrid, 1782, 4to, p. 3). His poems are in Castro, Tom. I. pp. 296, 301, etc.

[664] Castro, Tom. I. pp. 319-330, etc.

[665] Ferrant Manuel de Lando is noted as a page of John II. in Argote de Molina’s “Sucesion de los Manueles,” prefixed to the “Conde Lucanor,” 1575; and his poems are said to have been “agradables para aquel siglo.”

[666] That is, if the Juan Rodriguez del Padron, whose poems occur in Castro, (Tom. I. p. 331, etc.,) and in the manuscript Cancionero called EstuÑiga’s, (f. 18,) be the same, as he is commonly supposed to be, with the Juan Rodriguez del Padron of the “Cancionero General,” 1573 (ff. 121-124 and elsewhere). But of this I entertain doubts.

[667] Sanchez, Tom. I. pp. 199, 207, 208.

[668] It is published by Ochoa, in the same volume with the inedited poems of the Marquis of Santillana, where it is followed by poems of Suero de Ribera, (who occurs also in Baena’s Cancionero, and that of EstuÑiga,) Juan de DueÑas, (who occurs in EstuÑiga’s,) and one or two others of no value,—all of the age of John II.

[669] Castro, Tom. I. pp. 310-312.

[670] The best life of Cibdareal is prefixed to his Letters (Madrid, ed. 1775, 4to). But his birth is there placed about 1388, though he himself (Ep. 105) says he was sixty-eight years old in 1454, which gives 1386 as the true date. But we know absolutely nothing of him beyond what we find in the letters that pass under his name. The Noticia prefixed to the edition referred to was—as we are told in the Preface to the Chronicle of Alvaro de Luna (Madrid, 1784, 4to)—prepared by Llaguno Amirola.

[671] It is the last letter in the collection. See Appendix (C), on the genuineness of the whole.

[672] Cibdareal, Epist. 51.

[673] The longest extracts from the works of this remarkable family of Jews, and the best accounts of them, are to be found in Castro, “Biblioteca EspaÑola,” (Tom. I. p. 235, etc.,) and Amador de los Rios, “Estudios sobre los Judios de EspaÑa” (Madrid, 1848, 8vo, pp. 339-398, 458, etc.). Much of their poetry, which is found in the Cancioneros Generales, is amatory, and is as good as the poetry of those old collections generally is. Two of the treatises of Alonso were printed;—the “Oracional,” or Book of Devotion, mentioned in the text as written for Perez de Guzman, which appeared at Murcia in 1487, and the “Doctrinal de Cavalleros,” which appeared the same year at Burgos. (Diosdado, De Prima TypographiÆ Hispan. Ætate, RomÆ, 1793, 4to, pp. 22, 26, 64.) Both are curious; but much of the last is taken from the “Partidas” of Alfonso the Wise.

[674] The manuscript I have used is a copy from one, apparently of the fifteenth century, in the magnificent collection of Sir Thomas Phillips, Middle Hill, Worcestershire, England. The printed poems are found in the “Cancionero General,” 1535, ff. 28, etc.; in the “Obras de Juan de Mena,” ed. 1566, at the end; in Castro, Tom. I. pp. 298, 340-342; and at the end of Ochoa’s “Rimas Ineditas de Don IÑigo Lopez de Mendoza,” Paris, 1844, 8vo, pp. 269-356. See also Mendez, Typog. Esp., p. 383; and Cancionero General, 1573, ff. 14, 15, 20-22.

[675] The “Generaciones y Semblanzas” first appeared in 1512, as part of a rifacimento in Spanish of Giovanni Colonna’s “Mare Historiarum,” which may have been the work of Perez de Guzman. They begin, in this edition, at Cap. 137, after long accounts of Trojans, Greeks, Romans, Fathers of the Church, and others, taken from Colonna. (Mem. de la Acad. de Historia, Tom. VI. pp. 452, 453, note.) The first edition of the Generaciones y Semblanzas separated from this connection occurs at the end of the Chronicle of John II., 1517. They are also found in the edition of that Chronicle of 1779, and with the “Centon Epistolario,” in the edition of Llaguno Amirola, Madrid, 1775, 4to, where they are preceded by a life of Fernan Perez de Guzman, containing the little we know of him. The suggestion made in the Preface to the Chronicle of John II., (1779, p. xi.,) that the two very important chapters at the end of the Generaciones y Semblanzas are not the work of Fernan Perez de Guzman is, I think, sufficiently answered by the editor of the Chronicle of Alvaro de Luna, Madrid, 1784, 4to, PrÓlogo, p. xxiii.

[676] Generaciones y Semblanzas, c. 10. A similar harshness is shown in Chapters 5 and 30.

[677] Generaciones, etc., c. 11, 15, and 24.

[678] ChrÓnica de Don Juan el II., AÑo 1437, c. 4; 1438, c. 6; 1440, c. 18.

[679] Pulgar, Claros Varones, TÍt. 13. Cancionero General, 1573, f. 183. Mariana, Hist., Lib. XXIV. c. 14.

[680] The poetry of Gomez Manrique is in the Cancionero General, 1573, ff. 57-77, and 243.

[681] Adiciones Á Pulgar, ed. 1775, p. 239.

[682] Adiciones Á Pulgar, p. 223.

[683] Mendez, Typog. Esp., p. 265. To these poems, when speaking of Gomez Manrique, should be added,—1. his poetical letter to his uncle, the Marquis of Santillana, asking for a copy of his works, with the reply of his uncle, both of which are in the Cancioneros Generales; and 2. some of his smaller trifles, which occur in a manuscript of the poems of Alvarez Gato, belonging to the Library of the Academy of History at Madrid and numbered 114,—trifles, however, which ought to be published.

[684] Such as the word definicion for death, and other similar euphuisms. For a notice of Gomez Manrique, see Antonio, Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Tom. II. p. 342.

[685] These poems, some of them too free for the notions of his Church, are in the Cancioneros Generales; for example, in that of 1535, ff. 72-76, etc., and in that of 1573, at ff. 131-139, 176, 180, 187, 189, 221, 243, 245. A few are also in the “Cancionero de Burlas,” 1519.

[686] The lines on the court of John II. are among the most beautiful in the poem:—

Where is the King, Don Juan? where

Each royal prince and noble heir

Of Aragon?

Where are the courtly gallantries?

The deeds of love and high emprise,

In battle done?

Tourney and joust, that charmed the eye,

And scarf, and gorgeous panoply,

And nodding plume,—

What were they but a pageant scene?

What but the garlands, gay and green,

That deck the tomb?

Where are the high-born dames, and where

Their gay attire, and jewelled hair,

And odors sweet?

Where are the gentle knights, that came

To kneel, and breathe love’s ardent flame,

Low at their feet?

Where is the song of the Troubadour?

Where are the lute and gay tambour

They loved of yore?

Where is the mazy dance of old,

The flowing robes, inwrought with gold,

The dancers wore?

These two stanzas, as well as the one in the text, are from Mr. H. W. Longfellow’s beautiful translation of the Coplas, first printed, Boston, 1833, 12mo, and often since. They may be compared with a passage in the verses on Edward IV. attributed to Skelton, and found in the “Mirror for Magistrates,” (London, 1815, 4to, Tom. II. p. 246,) in which that prince is made to say, as if speaking from his grave,—

“Where is now my conquest and victory?

Where is my riches and royall array?

Where be my coursers and my horses hye?

Where is my myrth, my solace, and my play?”

Indeed, the tone of the two poems is not unlike, though, of course, the old English laureate never heard of Manrique and never imagined any thing half so good as the Coplas. The Coplas were often imitated;—among the rest, as Lope de Vega tells us, (Obras Sueltas, Madrid, 1777, 4to, Tom. XI. p. xxix.,) by Camoens; but I do not know the Redondillas of Camoens to which he refers. Lope admired the Coplas very much. He says they should be written in letters of gold.

[687] For the earliest editions of the Coplas, 1492, 1494, and 1501, see Mendez, Typog. EspaÑola, p. 136. I possess ten or twelve copies of other editions, one of which was printed at Boston, 1833, with Mr. Longfellow’s translation. My copies, dated 1574, 1588, 1614, 1632, and 1799, all have Glosas in verse. That of Aranda is in folio, 1552, black letter, and in prose.

At the end of a translation of the “Inferno” of Dante, made by Pero Fernandez de Villegas, Archdeacon of Burgos, published at Burgos in 1515, folio, with an elaborate commentary, chiefly from that of Landino,—a very rare book, and one of considerable merit,—is found, in a few copies, a poem on the “Vanity of Life,” by the translator, which, though not equal to the Coplas of Manrique, reminds me of them. It is called “Aversion del Mundo y Conversion Á Dios,” and is divided, with too much formality, into twenty stanzas on the contempt of the world, and twenty in honor of a religious life; but the verses, which are in the old national manner, are very flowing, and their style is that of the purest and richest Castilian. It opens thus:—

Away, malignant, cruel world,

With sin and sorrow rife!

I seek the meeker, wiser way

That leads to heavenly life.

Your fatal poisons here we drink,

Lured by their savors sweet,

Though, lurking in our flowery path,

The serpent wounds our feet.

Away with thy deceitful snares,

Which all too late I fly!—

I, who, a coward, followed thee

Till my last years are nigh;

Till thy most strange, revolting sins

Force me to turn from thee,

And drive me forth to seek repose,

Thy service hard to flee.

Away with all thy wickedness,

And all thy heartless toil,

Where brother, to his brother false,

In treachery seeks for spoil!—

Dead is all charity in thee,

All good in thee is dead;

I seek a port where from thy storm

To hide my weary head.

I add the original, for the sake of its flowing sweetness and power:—

Quedate, mundo malino,

Lleno de mal y dolor,

Que me vo tras el dulÇor

Del bien eterno divino.

Tu tosigo, tu venino,

Vevemos aÇucarado,

Y la sierpe esta en el prado

De tu tan falso camino.

Quedate con tus engaÑos,

Maguera te dexo tarde,

Que te segui de cobarde

Fasta mis postreros aÑos.

Mas ya tus males estraÑos

De ti me alanÇan forÇoso,

Vome a buscar el reposo

De tus trabajosos daÑos.

Quedate con tu maldad,

Con tu trabajo inhumano,

Donde el hermano al hermano

No guarda fe ni verdad.

Muerta es toda caridad;

Todo bien en ti es ya muerto;—

Acojome para el puerto,

Fuyendo tu tempestad.

After the forty stanzas to which the preceding lines belong, follow two more poems, the first entitled “The Complaint of Faith,” partly by Diego de Burgos and partly by Pero Fernandez de Villegas, and the second, a free translation of the Tenth Satire of Juvenal, by GerÓnimo de Villegas, brother of Pero Fernandez,—each poem in about seventy or eighty octave stanzas, of arte mayor, but neither of them as good as the “Vanity of Life.” GerÓnimo also translated the Sixth Satire of Juvenal into coplas de arte mayor, and published it at Valladolid in 1519, in 4to.

[688] Mariana, Hist., Lib. XXIV. c. 19, noticing his death, says, “He died in his best years,”—“en lo mejor de su edad”; but we do not know how old he was. On three other occasions, at least, Don Jorge is mentioned in the great Spanish historian as a personage important in the affairs of his time; but on yet a fourth,—that of the death of his father, Rodrigo,—the words of Mariana are so beautiful and apt, that I transcribe them in the original. “Su hijo D. Jorge Manrique, en unas trovas muy elegantes, en que hay virtudes poeticas y ricas esmaltes de ingenio, y sentencias graves, a manera de endecha, llorÓ la muerte de su padre.” Lib. XXIV. c. 14. It is seldom History goes out of its bloody course to render such a tribute to Poetry, and still more seldom that it does it so gracefully. The old ballad on Jorge Manrique is in Fuentes, Libro de los Quarenta Cantos, AlcalÁ, 1587, 12mo, p. 374.

[689] Cancionero de las Obras de Don Pedro Manuel de Urrea, LogroÑo, fol., 1513, apud Ig. de Asso, De Libris quibusdam Hispanorum Rarioribus, CÆsaraugustÆ, 1794, 4to, pp. 89-92.

En el placiente verano,

DÓ son los dias mayores,

Acabaron mis placeres,

Comenzaron mis dolores.

Quando la tierra da yerva

Y los arboles dan flores,

Quando aves hacen nidos

Y cantan los ruiseÑores;

Quando en la mar sosegada

Entran los navegadores,

Quando los lirios y rosas

Nos dan buenos olores;

Y quando toda la gente,

Ocupados de calores,

Van aliviando las ropas,

Y buscando los frescores;

DÓ son las mejores oras

La noches y los albores;—

En este tiempo que digo,

Comenzaron mis amores.

De una dama que yo vÍ,

Dama de tantos primores,

De quantos es conocida

De tantos tiene loores:

Su gracia por hermosura

Tiene tantos servidores,

Quanto yo por desdichado

Tengo penas y dolores:

Donde se me otorga muerte

Y se me niegan favores.

Mas nunca olvidarÉ

Estos amargos dulzores,

Porque en la mucha firmeza

Se muestran los amadores.

[690] The monk, however, finds it impossible to keep his secret, and fairly lets it out in a sort of acrostic at the end of the “Retablo.” He was born in 1468, and died after 1518.

[691] The “Doze Triumfos de los Doze ApÓstolos was printed entire in London, 1843, 4to, by Don Miguel del Riego, Canon of Oviedo, and brother of the Spanish patriot and martyr of the same name. In the volume containing the Triumfos, the Canon has given large extracts from the “Retablo de la Vida de Christo,” omitting Cantos VII., VIII., IX., and X. For notices of Juan de Padilla, see Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. 751, and Tom. II. p. 332; Mendez, Typog. Esp., p. 193; and Sarmiento, Memorias, Sect. 844-847. From the last, it appears that he rose to important ecclesiastical authority under the crown, as well as in his own order. The Doze Triumfos was first printed in 1512, the Retablo in 1505. There is a contemporary Spanish book, with a title something resembling that of the Retablo de la Vida de Christo del Cartuxano;—I mean the “Vita Christi Cartuxano,” which is a translation of the “Vita Christi” of Ludolphus of Saxony, a Carthusian monk who died about 1370, made into Castilian by Ambrosio Montesino, and first published at Seville, in 1502. It is, in fact, a Life of Christ, compiled out of the Evangelists, with ample commentaries and reflections from the Fathers of the Church,—the whole filling four folio volumes,—and in the version of Montesino it appears in a grave, pure Castilian prose. It was translated by him at the command, he says, of Ferdinand and Isabella.

[692] My copy is of the first edition, of Çamora, Centenera, 1483, folio, 23 leaves, double columns, black letter. It begins with these singular words, instead of a title-page: “Aqui comenÇa un tratado en estillo breve, en sentencias no solo largo mas hondo y prolixo, el qual ha nombre Vita Beata, hecho y compuesto por el honrado y muy discreto Juan de Lucena,” etc. There are also editions of 1499 and 1541, and, I believe, yet another of 1501. (Antonio, Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Tom. II. p. 250; and Mendez, Typog., p. 267.) The following short passage—with an allusion to the opening of Juvenal’s Tenth Satire, in better taste than is common in similar works of the same period—will well illustrate its style. It is from the remarks of the Bishop, in reply both to the poet and to the man of the world. “Resta, pues, SeÑor Marques y tu Juan de Mena, mi sentencia primera verdadera, que ninguno en esta vida vive beato. Desde Cadiz hasta Ganges si toda la tierra expiamos [espiamos?] a ningund mortal contenta su suerte. El caballero entre las puntas se codicia mercader; y el mercader cavallero entre las brumas del mar, si los vientos australes enpreÑian las velas. Al parir de las lombardas desea hallarse el pastor en el poblado; en campo el cibdadano; fuera religion los de dentro como peÇes y dentro querrian estar los de fuera,” etc. (fol. xviii. a.) The treatise contains many Latinisms and Latin words, after the absurd example of Juan de Mena; but it also contains many good old words that we are sorry have become obsolete.

[693] The oldest edition, which is without date, seems, from its type and paper, to have come from the press of Centenera at Çamora, in which case it was printed about 1480-1483. It begins thus: “ComenÇa el tratado llamado Vision Deleytable, compuesto por Alfonso de la Torre, bachiller, endereÇado al muy noble Don Juan de Beamonte, Prior de San Juan en Navarra.” It is not paged, but fills 71 leaves in folio, double columns, black letter. The little known of the different manuscripts and printed editions of the Vision is to be found in Antonio, Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Tom. II. pp. 328, 329, with the note; Mendez, Typog., pp. 100 and 380, with the Appendix, p. 402; and Castro, Biblioteca EspaÑola, Tom. I. pp. 630-635. The Vision was written for the instruction of the Prince of Viana, who is spoken of near the end as if still alive; and since this well-known prince, the son of John, king of Navarre and Aragon, was born in 1421 and died in 1461, we know the limits between which the Vision must have been produced. Indeed, being addressed to Beamonte, the Prince’s tutor, it was probably written about 1430-1440, during the Prince’s nonage. One of the old manuscripts of it says, “It was held in great esteem, and, as such, was carefully kept in the chamber of the said king of Aragon.” There is a life of the author in Rezabal y Ugarte, “Biblioteca de los Autores, que han sido individuos de los seis colegios mayores” (Madrid, 1805, 4to, p. 359). The best passage in the Vision Deleytable is at the end; the address of Truth to Reason. There is a poem of Alfonso de la Torre in MS. 7826, in the National Library, Paris (Ochoa, Manuscritos, Paris, 1844, 4to, p. 479); and the poems of the Bachiller Francisco de la Torre in the Cancionero, 1573, (ff. 124-127,) and elsewhere, so much talked about in connection with Quevedo, have sometimes been thought to be his, though the names differ.

[694] Antonio, Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Tom. II. p. 325. Mendez, Typog., p. 315. It is singular that the edition of the “Valerio de las Historias” printed at Toledo, 1541, folio, which bears on its title-page the name of Fern. Perez de Guzman, yet contains, at f. 2, the very letter of Almela, dated 1472, which leaves no doubt that its writer is the author of the book.

[695] The volume of the learned Alonso Ortiz is a curious one, printed at Seville, 1493, folio, 100 leaves. It is noticed by Mendez, (p. 194,) and by Antonio, (Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. 39,) who seems to have known nothing about its author, except that he bequeathed his library to the University of Salamanca. Besides the two treatises mentioned in the text, this volume contains an account of the wound received by Ferdinand the Catholic, from the hand of an assassin, at Barcelona, December 7, 1492; two letters from the city and cathedral of Toledo, praying that the name of the newly conquered Granada may not be placed before that of Toledo in the royal title; and an attack on the Prothonotary Juan de Lucena,—probably not the author lately mentioned,—who had ventured to assail the Inquisition, then in the freshness of its holy pretensions. The whole volume is full of bigotry, and the spirit of a triumphant priesthood.

[696] The notices of the life of Pulgar are from the edition of his “Claros Varones,” Madrid, 1775, 4to; but there, as elsewhere, he is said to be a native of the kingdom of Toledo. This, however, is probably a mistake. Oviedo, who knew him personally, says, in his Dialogue on Mendoza, Duke of Infantado, that Pulgar was “de Madrid natural.” Quinquagenas, MS.

[697] Claros Varones, TÍt. 3.

[698] Ibid., TÍt. 13.

[699] Claros Varones, TÍt. 17.

[700] The letters are at the end of the Claros Varones (Madrid, 1775, 4to); which was first printed in 1500.

[701] The Coplas of San Pedro on the Passion of Christ and the Sorrows of the Madonna are in the Cancionero of 1492, (Mendez, p. 135,) and many of his other poems are in the Cancioneros Generales, 1511-1573; for example, in the last, at ff. 155-161, 176, 177, 180, etc.

[702] “El Desprecio de la Fortuna”—with a curious dedication to the Count UrueÑa, whom he says he served twenty-nine years—is at the end of Juan de Mena’s Works, ed. 1566.

[703] Of Nicolas NuÑez I know only a few poems in the Cancionero General of 1573, (ff. 17, 23, 176, etc.,) one or two of which are not without merit.

[704] Mendez, pp. 185, 283; Brunet, etc. There is a translation of the Carcel into English by good old Lord Berners. (Walpole’s Royal and Noble Authors, London, 1806, 8vo, Vol. I. p. 241. Dibdin’s Ames, London, 1810, 4to, Vol. III. p. 195; Vol. IV. p. 339.) To Diego de San Pedro is also attributed the “Tratado de Arnalte y Lucenda,” of which an edition, apparently not the first, was printed at Burgos in 1522, and another in 1527. (Asso, De Libris Hisp. Rarioribus, CÆsaraugustÆ, 1794, 4to, p. 44.) From a phrase in his “Contempt of Fortune,” (Cancionero General, 1573, f. 158,) where he speaks of “aquellas cartas de Amores, escriptas de dos en dos,” I suspect he wrote the “Proceso de Cartas de Amores, que entre dos amantes pasaron,”—a series of extravagant love-letters, full of the conceits of the times; in which last case, he may also be the author of the “Quexa y Aviso contra Amor,” or the story of Luzindaro and Medusina, alluded to in the last of these letters. But as I know no edition of this story earlier than that of 1553, I prefer to consider it in the next period.

[705] The “Question de Amor” was printed as early as 1527, and, besides several editions of it that appeared separately, it often occurs in the same volume with the Carcel. Both are among the few books criticized by the author of the “DiÁlogo de las Lenguas,” who praises both moderately; the Carcel for its style more than the Question de Amor. (Mayans y Siscar, OrÍgenes, Tom. II. p. 167.) Both are in the Index Expurgatorius, 1667, pp. 323, 864; the last with a seeming ignorance, that regards it as a Portuguese book.

[706] Accounts of the Cancionero of Baena are found in Castro, “Biblioteca EspaÑola” (Madrid, 1785, folio, Tom. I. pp. 265-346); in Puybusque, “Histoire ComparÉe des LittÉratures Espagnole et FranÇaise” (Paris, 1843, 8vo, Tom. I. pp. 393-397); in Ochoa, “Manuscritos” (Paris, 1844, 4to, pp. 281-286); and in Amador de los Rios, “Estudios sobre los Judios” (Madrid, 1848, 8vo, pp. 408-419). The copy used by Castro was probably from the library of Queen Isabella, (Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., Tom. VI. p. 458, note,) and is now in the National Library, Paris. Its collector, Baena, is sneered at in the Cancionero of Fernan Martinez de Burgos, (Memorias de Alfonso VIII. por Mondexar, Madrid, 1783, 4to, App. cxxxix.,) as a Jew who wrote vulgar verses.

The poems in this Cancionero that are probably not by the persons whose names they bear are short and trifling,—such as might be furnished to men of distinction by humble versifiers, who sought their protection or formed a part of their courts. Thus, a poem already noticed, that bears the name of Count Pero NiÑo, was, as we are expressly told in a note to it, written by Villasandino, in order that the Count might present himself before the lady Blanche more gracefully than such a rough old soldier would be likely to do, unless he were helped to a little poetical gallantry.

[707] See ante, Chapter XVII. note 543.

[708] The Cancionero of Lope de EstuÑiga is, or was lately, in the National Library at Madrid, among the folio MSS., marked M. 48, well written and filling 163 leaves.

[709] The fashion of making such collections of poetry, generally called “Cancioneros,” was very common in Spain in the fifteenth century, just before and just after the introduction of the art of printing.

One of them, compiled in 1464, with additions of a later date, by Fernan Martinez de Burgos, begins with poems by his father, and goes on with others by Villasandino, who is greatly praised both as a soldier and a writer; by Fernan Sanchez de Talavera, some of which are dated 1408; by Pero Velez de Guevara, 1422; by Gomez Manrique; by Santillana; by Fernan Perez de Guzman; and, in short, by the authors then best known at court. Mem. de Alfonso VIII., Madrid, 1783, 4to, App. cxxxiv.-cxl.

Several other Cancioneros of the same period are in the National Library, Paris, and contain almost exclusively the known fashionable authors of that century; such as Santillana, Juan de Mena, Lopez de ÇuÑiga [EstuÑiga?], Juan Rodriguez del Padron, Juan de Villalpando, Suero de Ribera, Fernan Perez de Guzman, Gomez Manrique, Diego del Castillo, Alvaro Garcia de Santa MarÍa, Alonso Alvarez de Toledo, etc. There are no less than seven such Cancioneros in all, notices of which are found in Ochoa, “CatÁlogo de MSS. EspaÑoles en la Biblioteca Real de Paris,” Paris, 1844, 4to, pp. 378-525.

[710] Sanchez, PoesÍas Anteriores, Tom. I. p. lxi., with the notes on the passage relating to the Duke Fadrique.

[711] Fuster, Bib. Valenciana, Tom. I. p. 52. All the Cancioneros mentioned before 1474 are still in MS.

[712] Mendez, Typog., pp. 134-137 and 383.

[713] For the bibliography of these excessively rare and curious books, see Ebert, Bibliographisches Lexicon; and Brunet, Manuel, in verb. Cancionero, and Castillo. I have, I believe, seen copies of eight of the editions. Those which I possess are of 1535 and 1573.

[714] A copy of the edition of 1535, ruthlessly cut to pieces, bears this memorandum:—

“Este libro esta expurgado por el Expurgatorio del Santo Oficio, con licencia.

F. Baptista Martinez.”

The whole of the religious poetry at the beginning is torn out of it.

[715]

Imenso Dios, perdurable,

Que el mundo todo criaste,

Verdadero,

Y con amor entraÑable

Por nosotros espiraste

En el madero:

Pues te plugo tal passion

Por nuestras culpas sufrir,

O Agnus Dei,

Llevanos do estÁ el ladron,

Que salvaste por decir,

Memento mei.

Cancionero General, Anvers, 1573, f. 5.

Fuster, Bib. Valenciana, (Tom. I. p. 81,) tries to make out something concerning the author of this little poem; but does not, I think, succeed.

[716] In the Library of the Academy of History at Madrid (Misc. Hist., MS., Tom. III., No. 2) is a poem by Diego Lopez de Haro, of about a thousand lines, in a manuscript apparently of the end of the fifteenth or beginning of the sixteenth century, of which I have a copy. It is entitled “Aviso para Cuerdos,”—A Word for the Wise,—and is arranged as a dialogue, with a few verses spoken in the character of some distinguished personage, human or superhuman, allegorical, historical, or from Scripture, and then an answer to each, by the author himself. In this way above sixty persons are introduced, among whom are Adam and Eve, with the Angel that drove them from Paradise, Troy, Priam, Jerusalem, Christ, Julius CÆsar, and so on down to King Bamba and Mahomet. The whole is in the old Spanish verse, and has little poetical thought in it, as may be seen by the following words of Saul and the answer by Don Diego, which I give as a favorable specimen of the entire poem:—

Saul.

En mi pena es de mirar,

Que peligro es para vos

El glosar u el mudar

Lo que manda el alto Dios;

Porque el manda obedecelle;

No juzgalle, mas creelle.

A quien a Dios a de entender,

Lo que el sabe a de saber.

Autor.

Pienso yo que en tal defecto

Cae presto el coraÇon

Del no sabio en rreligion,

Creyendo que a lo perfecto

Puede dar mas perficion.

Este mal tiene el glosar;

Luego a Dios quiere enmendar.

Oviedo, in his “Quinquagenas,” says that Diego Lopez de Haro was “the mirror of gallantry among the youth of his time”; and he is known to history for his services in the war of Granada, and as Spanish ambassador at Rome. (See Clemencin, in Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., Tom. VI. p. 404.) He figures in the “Inferno de Amor” of Sanchez de Badajoz; and his poems are found in the Cancionero General, 1573, ff. 82-90, and a few other places.

[717] He founded the fortunes of the family of which the Marquis of Pescara was so distinguished a member in the time of Charles V.; his first achievement having been to kill a Portuguese in fair fight, after public challenge, and in presence of both the armies. The poet rose to be Constable of Castile. Historia de D. Hernando DÁvalos, Marques de Pescara, Anvers, 1558, 12mo, Lib. I., c. 1.

[718] Besides what are to be found in the Cancioneros Generales,—for example, in that of 1573, at ff. 148-152, 189, etc.,—there is a MS. in possession of the Royal Academy at Madrid, (Codex No. 114,) which contains a large number of poems by Alvarez Gato. Their author was a person of consequence in his time, and served John II., Henry IV., and Ferdinand and Isabella, in affairs of state. With John he was on terms of friendship. One day, when the king missed him from his hunting-party and was told he was indisposed, he replied, “Let us, then, go and see him; he is my friend,”—and returned to make the kindly visit. Gato died after 1495. GerÓnimo Quintana, Historia de Madrid, Madrid, 1629, folio, f. 221.

The poetry of Gato is sometimes connected with public affairs; but, in general, like the rest of that which marks the period when it was written, it is in a courtly and affected tone, and devoted to love and gallantry. Some of it is more lively and natural than most of its doubtful class. Thus, when his lady-love told him “he must talk sense,” he replied, that he had lost the little he ever had from the time when he first saw her, ending his poetical answer with these words:—

But if, in good faith, you require

That sense should come back to me,

Show the kindness to which I aspire,

Give the freedom you know I desire,

And pay me my service fee.

Si queres que de verdad

TornÉ a mi seso y sentido,

Usad agora bondad,

Torname mi libertad,

E pagame lo servido.

[719] Memorias de la Acad. de Historia, Tom. VI. p. 404. The “Lecciones de Job,” by Badajoz, were early put into the Index Expurgatorius, and kept there to the last.

[720] The Cancionero of 1535 consists of 191 leaves, in large folio, Gothic letters, and triple columns. Of these, the devotional poetry fills eighteen leaves, and the series of authors mentioned above extends from f. 18 to f. 97. It is worth notice, that the beautiful Coplas of Manrique do not occur in any one of these courtly Cancioneros.

[721] The Canciones are found, ff. 98-106.

[722]

No se para que nasci,

Pues en tal estremo esto

Que el morir no quiere a mi,

Y el viuir no quiero yo.

Todo el tiempo que viviere

Terne muy justa querella

De la muerte, pues no quiere

A mi, queriendo yo a ella.

Que fin espero daqui,

Pues la muerte me negÓ,

Pues que claramente viÓ

Quera vida para mi.

f. 98. b.

[723] These ballads, already noticed, ante, Chap. VI., are in the Cancionero of 1535, ff. 106-115.

[724] “Saco el Rey nuestro seÑor una red de carcel, y decia la letra:—

Qualquier prision y dolor

Que se sufra, es justa cosa,

Pues se sufre por amor

De la mayor y mejor

Del mundo, y la mas hermosa.

“El conde de Haro saco una noria, y dixo:—

Los llenos, de males mios;

D’ esperanÇa, los vazios.

“El mismo por cimera una carcel y el en ella, y dixo:—

En esta carcel que veys,

Que no se halla salida,

Viuire, mas ved que vida!”

The Invenciones, though so numerous, fill only three leaves, 115 to 117. They occur, also, constantly in the old chronicles and books of chivalry. The “Question de Amor” contains many of them.

[725] Though Lope de Vega, in his “Justa PoÉtica de San Isidro,” (Madrid, 1620, 4to, f. 76,) declares the Glosas to be “a most ancient and peculiarly Spanish composition, never used in any other nation,” they were, in fact, an invention of the ProvenÇal poets, and, no doubt, came to Spain with their original authors. (Raynouard, Troub., Tom. II. pp. 248-254.) The rules for their composition in Spain were, as we see also from Cervantes, (Don Quixote, Parte II. c. 18,) very strict and rarely observed; and I cannot help agreeing with the friend of the mad knight, that the poetical results obtained were little worth the trouble they cost. The Glosas of the Cancionero of 1535 are at ff. 118-120.

[726] The author of the “DiÁlogo de las Lenguas” (Mayans y Siscar, OrÍgenes, Tom. II. p. 151) gives the refrain or ritornello of a Villancico, which, he says, was sung by every body in Spain in his time, and is the happiest specimen I know of the genus, conceit and all.

Since I have seen thy blessed face,

Lady, my love is not amiss;

But, had I never known that grace,

How could I have deserved such bliss?

[727] The Villancicos are in the Cancionero of 1535 at ff. 120-125. See also Covarrubias, Tesoro, in verb. Villancico.

[728] Galatea, Lib. VI.

[729] The Preguntas extend from f. 126 to f. 134.

[730] The complete list of the authors in this part of the Cancionero is as follows:—Costana, Puerto Carrero, Avila, the Duke of Medina Sidonia, the Count Castro, Luis de Tovar, Don Juan Manuel, Tapia, Nicolas NuÑez, Soria, Pinar, Ayllon, Badajoz el MÚsico, the Count of Oliva, Cardona, Frances Carroz, Heredia, Artes, Quiros, Coronel, Escriva, Vazquez, and LudueÑa. Of most of them only a few trifles are given. The “Burlas provocantes a Risa” follow, in the edition of 1514, after the poems of LudueÑa, but do not appear in that of 1526, or in any subsequent edition. Most of them, however, are found in the collection referred to, entitled “Cancionero de Obras de Burlas provocantes a Risa” (Valencia, 1519, 4to). It begins with one rather long poem, and ends with another,—the last being a brutal parody of the “Trescientas” of Juan de Mena. The shorter poems are often by well-known names, such as Jorge Manrique, and Diego de San Pedro, and are not always liable to objection on the score of decency. But the general tone of the work, which is attributed to ecclesiastical hands, is as coarse as possible. A small edition of it was printed at London, in 1841, marked on its title-page “Cum Privilegio, en Madrid, por Luis Sanchez.” It has a curious and well-written Preface, and a short, but learned, Glossary. From p. 203 to the end, p. 246, are a few poems not found in the original Cancionero de Burlas; one by Garci Sanchez de Badajoz, one by Rodrigo de Reynosa, etc.

[731] This part of the Cancionero of 1535, which is of very little value, fills ff. 134-191. The whole volume contains about 49,000 verses. The Antwerp editions of 1557 and 1573 are larger, and contain about 58,000; but the last part of each is the worst part. One of the pieces near the end is a ballad on the renunciation of empire made by Charles V. at Brussels, in October, 1555; the most recent date, so far as I have observed, that can be assigned to any poem in any of the collections.

[732] There is a short poem by the Constable in the Commentary of Fernan NuÑez to the 265th Copla of Juan de Mena; and in the fine old Chronicle of the Constable’s life, we are told of him, (TÍtulo LXVIII.,) “Fue muy inventivo e mucho dado a fallar invenciones y sacar entremeses, o en justas o en guerra; en las quales invenciones muy agudamente significaba lo que queria.” He is also the author of an unpublished prose work, dated 1446, “On Virtuous and Famous Women,” to which Juan de Mena wrote a Preface; the Constable, at that time, being at the height of his power. It is not, as its title might seem to indicate, translated from a work by Boccaccio, with nearly the same name; but an original production of the great Castilian minister of state. Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., Tom. VI. p. 464, note.

[733] Obras Sueltas, Madrid, 1777, 4to, Tom. XI. p. 358.

[734] The bitterness of this unchristian and barbarous hatred of the Moors, that constituted not a little of the foundation on which rested the intolerance that afterwards did so much to break down the intellectual independence of the Spanish people, can hardly be credited at the present day, when stated in general terms. An instance of its operation, must, therefore, be given to illustrate its intensity. When the Spaniards made one of those forays into the territories of the Moors that were so common for centuries, the Christian knights, on their return, often brought, dangling at their saddle-bows, the heads of the Moors they had slain, and threw them to the boys in the streets of the villages, to exasperate their young hatred against the enemies of their faith;—a practice which, we are told on good authority, was continued as late as the war of the Alpuxarras, under Don John of Austria, in the reign of Philip II. (Clemencin, in Memorias de la Acad. de Hist., Tom. VI. p. 390.) But any body who will read the “Historia de la Rebelion y Castigo de los Moriscos del Reyno de Granada,” by Luis del Marmol Carvajal, (MÁlaga, 1600, fol.,) will see how complacently an eyewitness, not so much disposed as most of his countrymen to look with hatred on the Moors, regarded cruelties which it is not possible now to read without shuddering. See his account of the murder, by order of the chivalrous Don John of Austria, (f. 192,) of four hundred women and children, his captives at Galera;—“muchos en su presencia,” says the historian, who was there. Similar remarks might be made about the second volume of Hita’s “Guerras de Granada,” which will be noticed hereafter. Indeed, it is only by reading such books that it is possible to learn how much the Spanish character was impaired and degraded by this hatred, inculcated, during the nine centuries that elapsed between the age of Roderic the Goth and that of Philip III., not only as a part of the loyalty of which all Spaniards were so proud, but as a religious duty of every Christian in the kingdom.

[735] Bernaldez, ChrÓnica, c. 131, MS. Navarrete, Coleccion de Viages, Tom. I. p. 72; Tom. II. p. 282.

[736] Prescott’s Ferdinand and Isabella, Part I. c. 7.

[737] Mariana, Hist., Lib. XXIV. c. 17, ed. 1780, Tom. II. p. 527. We are shocked and astonished, as we read this chapter;—so devout a gratitude does it express for the Inquisition as a national blessing. See also Llorente, Hist. de l’Inquisition, Tom. I. p. 160.

[738] The eloquent Father Lacordaire, in the sixth chapter of his “MÉmoire pour le RÉtablissement de l’Ordre des FrÈres PrÊcheurs,” (Paris, 1839, 8vo,) endeavours to prove that the Dominicans were not in anyway responsible for the establishment of the Inquisition in Spain. In this attempt I think he fails; but I think he is successful when he elsewhere maintains that the Inquisition, from an early period, was intimately connected with the political government in Spain, and always dependent on the state for a large part of its power.

[739] See the learned and acute “Histoire des Maures Mudejares et des Morisques, ou des Arabes d’Espagne sous la Domination des ChrÉtiens,” par le Comte Albert de Circourt, (3 tom. 8vo, Paris, 1846,) Tom. II., passim.

[740] It is impossible to speak of the Inquisition as I have spoken in this chapter, without feeling desirous to know something concerning Antonio Llorente, who has done more than all other persons to expose its true history and character. The important facts in his life are few. He was born at Calahorra in Aragon in 1756, and entered the Church early, but devoted himself to the study of canon law and of elegant literature. In 1789, he was made principal secretary to the Inquisition, and became much interested in its affairs; but was dismissed from his place and exiled to his parish in 1791, because he was suspected of an inclination towards the French philosophy of the period. In 1793, a more enlightened General Inquisitor than the one who had persecuted him drew Llorente again into the councils of the Holy Office, and, with the assistance of Jovellanos and other leading statesmen, he endeavoured to introduce such changes into the tribunal itself as should obtain publicity for its proceedings. But this, too, failed, and Llorente was disgraced anew. In 1805, however, he was recalled to Madrid; and in 1809, when the fortunes of Joseph Bonaparte made him the nominal king of Spain, he gave Llorente charge of every thing relating to the archives and the affairs of the Inquisition. Llorente used well the means thus put into his hands; and having been compelled to follow the government of Joseph to Paris, after its overthrow in Spain, he published there, from the vast and rich materials he had collected during the period when he had entire control of the secret records of the Inquisition, an ample history of its conduct and crimes;—a work which, though neither well arranged nor philosophically written, is yet the great store-house from which are to be drawn more well-authenticated facts relating to the subject it discusses than can be found in all other sources put together. But neither in Paris, where he lived in poverty, was Llorente suffered to live in peace. In 1823, he was required by the French government to leave France, and being obliged to make his journey during a rigorous season, when he was already much broken by age and its infirmities, he died from fatigue and exhaustion, on the 3d of February, a few days after his arrival at Madrid. His “Histoire de l’Inquisition” (4 tom., 8vo, Paris, 1817-1818) is his great work; but we should add to it his “Noticia BiogrÁfica,” (Paris, 1818, 12mo,) which is curious and interesting, not only as an autobiography, but for further notices respecting the spirit of the Inquisition.

[741] Traces of this feeling are found abundantly in Spanish literature, for above a century; but nowhere, perhaps, with more simplicity and good faith than in a sonnet of Hernando de AcuÑa,—a soldier and a poet greatly favored by Charles V.—in which he announces to the world, for its “great consolation,” as he says, “promised by Heaven,”—

Un Monarca, un Imperio, y una Espada.

PoesÍas, Madrid, 1804, 12mo, p. 214.

ChristÓval de Mesa, however, may be considered more simple-hearted yet; for, fifty years afterwards, he announces this catholic and universal empire as absolutely completed by Philip III. Restauracion de EspaÑa, Madrid, 1607, 12mo, Canto I. st. 7.

[742] The facts in the subsequent account of the progress and suppression of the Protestant Reformation in Spain are taken, in general, from the “Histoire Critique de l’Inquisition d’Espagne,” par J. A. Llorente, (Paris, 1817-1818, 4 tom., 8vo,) and the “History of the Reformation in Spain,” by Thos. McCrie, Edinburgh, 1829, 8vo.

[743] The Grand Inquisitors had always shown an instinctive desire to obtain jurisdiction over books, whether printed or manuscript. Torquemada, the fiercest, if not quite the first of them, burned at Seville, in 1490, a quantity of Hebrew Bibles and other manuscripts, on the ground that they were the work of Jews; and at Salamanca, subsequently, he destroyed, in the same way, six thousand volumes more, on the ground that they were books of magic and sorcery. But in all this he proceeded, not by virtue of his Inquisitorial office, but, as Barrientos had done forty years before, (see ante, p. 359,) by direct royal authority. Until 1521, therefore, the press remained in the hands of the Oidores, or judges of the higher courts, and other persons civil and ecclesiastical, who, from the first appearance of printing in the country, and certainly for above twenty years after that period, had granted, by special power from the sovereigns, whatever licenses were deemed necessary for the printing and circulation of books. Llorente, Hist. de l’Inquisition, Tom. I. pp. 281, 456. Mendez, TypographÍa, pp. 51, 331, 375.

[744] I notice in a few works printed before 1550, that the Inquisition, without formal authority, began quietly to take cognizance and control of books that were about to be published. Thus, in a curious treatise on Exchange, “Tratado de Cambios,” by CristÓval de Villalon, printed at Valladolid in 1541, 4to, the title-page declares that it had been “visto por los SeÑores Inquisidores”; and in Pero Mexia’s “Silva de Varia Leccion,” (Sevilla, 1543, folio,) though the title gives the imperial license for printing, the colophon adds that of the Apostolical Inquisitor. There was no reason for either, except the anxiety of the author to be safe from an authority which rested on no law, but which was already recognized as formidable. Similar remarks may be made about the “TheÓrica de Virtudes” of Castilla, which was formally licensed, in 1536, by Alonso Manrique, the Inquisitor-General, though it was dedicated to the Emperor, and bears the Imperial authority to print.

[745] Peignot, Essai sur la LibertÉ d’Écrire, Paris, 1832, 8vo, pp. 55, 61. Baillet, Jugemens des Savans, Amsterdam, 1725, 12mo, Tom. II. Partie I. p. 43. Father Paul Sarpi’s remarkable account of the origin of the Inquisition, and of the Index Expurgatorius of Venice, which was the first ever printed, Opere, Helmstadt, 1763, 4to, Tom. IV. pp. 1-67. Llorente, Hist. de l’Inquisition, Tom. I. pp. 459-464, 470. Vogt, Catalogus Librorum Rariorum, Hamburgi, 1753, 8vo, pp. 367-369. So much for Europe. Abroad it was worse. From 1550, a certificate was obliged to accompany every book, setting forth, that it was not a prohibited book, without which certificate, no book was permitted to be sold or read in the colonies. (Llorente, Tom. I. p. 467.) But thus far the Inquisition, in relation to the Index Expurgatorius, consulted the civil authorities, or was specially authorized by them to act. In 1640 this ceremony was no longer observed, and the Index was printed by the Inquisition alone, without any commission from the civil government. From the time when the danger of the heresy of Luther became considerable, no books arriving from Germany and France were permitted to be circulated in Spain, except by special license. Bisbe y Vidal, Tratado de Comedias, Barcelona, 1618, 12mo, f. 55.

[746] Cardinal Ximenes was really equal to the position these extraordinary offices gave him, and exercised his great authority with sagacity and zeal, and with a confidence in the resources of his own genius that seemed to double his power. It should, however, never be forgotten, that, but for him, the Inquisition, instead of being enlarged, as it was, twenty years after its establishment, would have been constrained within comparatively narrow limits, and probably soon overthrown. For, in 1512, when the embarrassments of the public treasury inclined Ferdinand to accept from the persecuted new converts a large sum of money, which he needed to carry on his war against Navarre,—a gift which they offered on the single and most righteous condition, that witnesses cited before the Inquisition should be examined publicly,—Cardinal Ximenes not only used his influence with the king to prevent him from accepting the offer, but furnished him with resources that made its acceptance unnecessary. And again, in 1517, when Charles V., young and not without generous impulses, received, on the same just condition, from the same oppressed Christians, a still larger offer of money to defray his expenses in taking possession of his kingdom, and when he had obtained assurances of the reasonableness of granting their request from the principal universities and men of learning in Spain and in Flanders, Cardinal Ximenes interposed anew his great influence, and—not without some suppression of the truth—prevented a second time the acceptance of the offer. He, too, it was, who arranged the jurisdiction of the tribunals of the Inquisition in the different provinces, settling them on deeper and more solid foundations; and, finally, it was this master spirit of his time who first carried the Inquisition beyond the limits of Spain, establishing it in Oran, which was his personal conquest, and in the Canaries, and Cuba, where he made provident arrangements, by virtue of which it was subsequently extended through all Spanish America. And yet, before he wielded the power of the Inquisition, he opposed its establishment. Llorente, Hist., Chap. X., Art. 5 and 7.

[747] Llorente, Tom. I. p. 419.

[748] Llorente, Tom. II. pp. 183, 184.

[749] Ibid., Tom. II., Chap. XX., XXI., and XXIV.

[750] Llorente, Tom. II., Chap. XIX., XXV., and other places.

[751] See note to Chap. XL. of this Part.

[752] GinguenÉ, Hist. Lit. d’ltalie, Paris, 1812, 8vo, Tom. IV. pp. 87-90; and more fully in Historia de Don Hernando DÁvalos, Marques de Pescara, en Anvers, Juan Steelsio, 1558, 12mo;—a curious book, which seems, I think, to have been written before 1546, and was the work of Pedro Valles, an Aragonese. Latassa, Bib. Nueva de Escritores Aragoneses, Zaragossa, Tom. I. 4to, 1798, p. 289.

[753] The coronation of Charles V. at Bologna, like most of the other striking events in Spanish history, was brought upon the Spanish theatre. It is circumstantially represented in “Los dos Monarcas de Europa,” by BartolomÉ de Salazar y Luna. (Comedias Escogidas, Madrid, 1665, 4to, Tomo XXII.) But the play is quite too extravagant in its claims, both as respects the Emperor’s humiliation and the Pope’s glory, considering that Clement VII. had so lately been the Emperor’s prisoner. As the ceremony is about to begin, a procession of priests enters, chanting,—

In happy hour, let this child of the Church,

Her obedient, dutiful son,

Come forth to receive, with her holiest rites,

The crown which his valor has won.

To which the Emperor is made to reply,—

And in happy hour, let him show his power,

His dominion, and glorious might,

Who now sees, in the dust, a king faithful and just

Surrender, rejoicing, his right.

But such things were common in Spain, and tended to conciliate the favor of the clergy for the theatre.

[754] P. de Sandoval, Hist. del Emperador Carlos V., Amberes, 1681, folio, Lib. XII. to XVIII., but especially the last book.

[755] The Dictionary of Torres y Amat contains a short, but sufficient, life of Boscan; and in Sedano, “Parnaso EspaÑol,” (Madrid, 1768-78, 12mo, Tom. VIII. p. xxxi.,) there is one somewhat more ample.

[756] Tiraboschi, Storia della Lett. Italiana, Roma, 1784, 4to, Tom. VII., Parte I. p. 242; Parte II. p. 294; and Parte III. pp. 228-230.

[757] Andrea Navagiero, Il Viaggio fatto in Spagna, etc., Vinegia, 1563, 12mo, ff. 18-30. Bayle gives an article on Navagiero’s life, with discriminating praise of his scholarship and genius.

[758] Letter to the Duquesa de Soma, prefixed to the Second Book of Boscan’s Poems.

[759] Letter to the Duquesa de Soma.

[760] It is mentioned in the permission to publish his works granted to Boscan’s widow, by Charles V., Feb. 18, 1543, and prefixed to the very rare and important edition of his works and those of his friend Garcilasso, published for the first time in the same year, at Barcelona, by Amoros; a small 4to, containing 237 leaves. This edition is said to have been at once counterfeited, and was certainly reprinted not less than six times as early as 1546, three years after its first appearance. In 1553, Alonso de Ulloa, a Spaniard, at Venice, who published many Spanish books there with prefaces of some value by himself, printed it in 18mo, very neatly, and added a few poems to those found in the first edition; particularly one, at the beginning of the volume, entitled “Conversion de Boscan,” religious in its subject, and national in its form. At the end Ulloa puts a few pages of verse, attacking the Italian forms adopted by Boscan; describing what he thus adds as by “an uncertain author.” They are, however, the work of Castillejo, and are found in Obras de Castillejo, Anvers, 1598, 18mo, f. 110, etc.

[761] GÓngora, in the first two of his Burlesque Ballads, has made himself merry (Obras, Madrid, 1654, 4to, f. 104, etc.) at the expense of Boscan’s “Leandro.” But he has taken the same freedom with better things.

The Leandro was, I think, the first attempt to introduce blank verse, which was thus brought by Boscan into the poetry of Spain in 1543, as it was a little later into English, from the versi sciolti of the Italians, by Surrey, who called it “a strange meter.” AcuÑa soon followed in Castilian with other examples of it; but the first really good Spanish blank verse known to me is to be found in the eclogue of “Tirsi” by Francisco de Figueroa, written about half a century after the time of Boscan, and not printed till 1626. The translation of a part of the Odyssey by Perez, in 1553, and the “Sagrada Eratos” of Alonso Carillo Laso de la Vega, which is a paraphrase of the Psalms, printed at Naples in 1657, folio, afford much longer specimens that are generally respectable. But the full rhyme is so easy in Spanish, and the asonante is so much easier, that blank verse, though it has been used from the middle of the sixteenth century, has been little cultivated or favored.

[762] Boswell’s Life of Johnson, ed. Croker, London, 1831, 8vo, Tom. II. p. 501.

[763] The first edition of it is in black letter, without the name of place or printer, 4to, 140 leaves, and is dated 1549. Another edition appeared as early as 1553; supposed by Antonio to have been the oldest. It is on the Index of 1667, p. 245, for expurgation.

[764] GinguenÉ, Hist. Lit. d’Italie, Tom. VII. pp. 544, 550.

[765] “I have no mind,” he says in the PrÓlogo, “to be so strict in the translation of this book, as to confine myself to give it word for word. On the contrary, if any thing occurs, which sounds well in the original language, and ill in our own, I shall not fail to change it or to suppress it.” Ed. 1549, f. 2.

[766] “Every time I read it,” says Garcilasso in a letter to DoÑa GerÓnima Palova de Almogovar, prefixed to the first edition, “it seems to me as if it had never been written in any other language.” This letter of Garcilasso is very beautiful in point of style.

[767] Morales, Discourse on the Castilian Language, Obras de Oliva, Madrid, 1787, 12mo, Tom. I. p. xli.

[768] Cancionero General, 1535, f. 153.

[769] Petrarca, Vita di Madonna Laura, Canz. 9 and 14. But Boscan’s imitations of them are marred by a good many conceits. Some of his sonnets, however, are free from this fault, and are natural and tender.

[770]

Y no es gusto tambien assi entenderos,

Que podays siepre entrambos conformaros:

Entrambos en un punto entrÍsteceros,

Y en otro punto entrambos alegraros:

Y juntos sin razon embraueceros,

Y sin razon tambien luego amanssaros:

Y que os hagan, en fin, vuestros amores

Igualmente mudar de mil colores?

Obras de Boscan, Barcelona, 1543, 4to, f. clx.

[771] Pedro Fernandez de Villegas, Archdeacon of Burgos, who, in 1515, published a translation of the “Inferno” of Dante, (see ante, p. 409, n.,) says, in his Introduction, that he at first endeavoured to make his version in terza rima, “which manner of writing,” he goes on, “is not in use among us, and appeared to me so ungraceful, that I gave it up.” This was about fifteen years before Boscan wrote in it with success; perhaps a little earlier, for it is dedicated to DoÑa Juana de Aragon, the natural daughter of Ferdinand the Catholic, a lady of much literary cultivation, who died before it was completed.

[772] The best life of Garcilasso de la Vega is to be found in the edition of his works, Sevilla, 1580, 8vo, by Fernando de Herrera, the poet. A play, comprising no small part of his adventures, was produced in the Madrid theatre, by Don Gregorio Romero y LarraÑaga, in 1840.

[773] The story and the ballad are found in Hita, “Guerras Civiles de Granada,” (Barcelona, 1737, 12mo, Tom. I. cap. 17,) and in Lope de Vega’s “Cerco de Santa Fe” (Comedias, Tom. I., Valladolid, 1604, 4to). But the tradition, I think, is not true. Oviedo directly contradicts it, when giving an account of the family of the poet’s father; and as he knew them, his authority is perhaps decisive. (Quinquagenas, Batalla I. Quin. iii. DiÁlogo 43, MS.) But, besides this, Lord Holland (Life of Lope, London, 1817, 8vo, Vol. I. p. 2) gives good reasons against the authenticity of the story, which Wiffen (Works of Garcilasso, London, 1823, 8vo, pp. 100 and 384) answers as well as he can, but not effectually. It is really a pity it cannot be made out to be true, it is so poetically appropriate.

[774] Sandoval, Hist. del Emperador Carlos V., Lib. V.,and Oviedo in the Dialogue referred to in the last note.

[775] Obras de Garcilasso, ed. Herrera, 1580, p. 234, and also p. 239, note.

[776] Soneto 33 and note, ed. Herrera.

[777] ElegÍa II. and the EpÍstola, ed. Herrera, p. 378.

[778] Obras, ed. Herrera, p. 18.

[779] Obras, ed. Herrera, p. 15. Sandoval, Hist. de Carlos V., Lib. XXIII. § 12, and Mariana, Historia, ad annum. Çapata, in his “Carlos Famoso,” (Valencia, 1565, 4to, Canto 41,) states the number of the peasants in the tower at thirteen; and says that Don Luis de la Cueva, who executed the Imperial order for their death, wished to save all but one or two. He adds, that Garcilasso was without armour when he scaled the wall of the tower, and that his friends endeavoured to prevent his rashness.

[780]

Tomando ora la espada, ora la pluma;

a verse afterwards borrowed by Ercilla, and used in his “Araucana.” It is equally applicable to both poets.

[781] I am aware that Herrera, in his notes to the poetry of Garcilasso, says that Garcilasso intended to represent Don Antonio de Fonseca under the name of Nemoroso. But nearly every body else supposes he meant that name for Boscan, taking it from Bosque and Nemus; a very obvious conceit. Among the rest, Cervantes is of this opinion. Don Quixote, Parte II. c. 67.

[782]

Por ti el silencio de la selva umbrosa,

Por ti la esquividad y apartimiento

Del solitario monte me agradaba:

Por ti la verde hierba, el fresco viento,

El blanco lirio y colorada rosa,

Y dulce primavera deseaba.

Ay! quanto me engaÑaba,

Ay! quan diferente era,

Y quan de otra manera

Lo que en tu falso pecho se escondia.

Obras de Garcilasso de la Vega, ed. Azara, Madrid, 1765, 12mo, p. 5.

Something of the same idea and turn of phrase occurs in Mendoza’s Epistle to Boscan, which will be noticed hereafter.

[783] Odyss. T. 518-524. Moschus, too, has it, and Virgil; but it is more to the present purpose to say, that it is found in Boscan’s “Leandro.”

[784]

Qual suele el ruyseÑor, con triste canto,

Quexarse, entre las hojas encondido,

Del duro laborador, que cautamente

Le despojo su caro y dulce nido

De los tiernos hijuelos, entre tanto

Que del amado ramo estaua ausente;

Y aquel dolor que siente,

Con diferencia tanta,

Por la dulce garganta

Despide, y a su canto el ayre suena;

Y la callada noche no refrena

Su lamentable oficio y sus querellas,

Trayendo de su pena

El cielo por testigo y las estrellas:

Desta manera suelto yo la rienda

A mi dolor, y anssi me quejo en vano

De la dureza de la muerte ayrada:

Ella en mi coraÇon metyÓ la mano,

Y d’ alli me lleuÓ mi dulÇe prenda,

Que aquel era su nido y su morada.

Obras de Garcilasso de la Vega, ed. Azara, 1765, p. 14.

[785] For example,—

Albanio, si tu mal comunicÁras

Con otro, que pensÁras, que tu pÉna

Juzgara como agÉna, o que este fuego, etc.

I know of no earlier instance of this precise rhyme, which is quite different from the lawless rhymes that sometimes broke the verses of the Minnesingers and Troubadours. Cervantes used it, nearly a century afterwards, in his “Cancion de GrisÓstomo,” (Don Quixote, Parte I. c. 14,) and Pellicer, in his commentary on the passage, regards Cervantes as the inventor of it. Perhaps Garcilasso’s rhymes had escaped all notice; for they are not the subject of remark by his learned commentators. In English, instances of this peculiarity may be found occasionally amidst the riotous waste of rhymes in Southey’s “Curse of Kehama,” and in Italian they occur in Alfieri’s “Saul,” Act III. sc. 4. I do not remember to have seen them again in Spanish except in some dÉcimas of Pedro de Salas, printed in 1638, and in the second jornada of the “Pretendiente al Reves” of Tirso de Molina, 1634. No doubt they occur elsewhere, but they are rare, I think.

[786] Francisco Sanchez—who was named at home El Brocense, because he was born at Las Brozas in Estremadura, but is known elsewhere as Sanctius, the author of the “Minerva,” and other works of learning—published his edition of Garcilasso at Salamanca, 1574, 18mo; a modest work, which has been printed often since. This was followed at Seville, in 1580, by the elaborate edition of Herrera, in 8vo, filling nearly seven hundred pages, chiefly with its commentary, which is so cumbersome, that it has never been reprinted, though it contains a good deal important, both to the history of Garcilasso, and to the elucidation of the earlier Spanish literature. Tamayo de Vargas was not satisfied with either of them, and published a commentary of his own at Madrid in 1622, 18mo, but it is of little worth. Perhaps the most agreeable edition of Garcilasso is one published, without its editor’s name, in 1765, by the Chevalier Joseph Nicolas de Azara; long the ambassador of Spain at Rome, and at the head of what was most distinguished in the intellectual society of that capital. In English, Garcilasso was made known by J. H. Wiffen, who, in 1823, published at London, in 8vo, a translation of all his works, prefixing a Life and an Essay on Spanish Poetry; but the translation is constrained, and fails in the harmony that so much distinguishes the original, and the dissertation is heavy and not always accurate in its statement of facts.

[787] Don Quixote, (Parte II. c. 58,) after leaving the Duke and Duchess, finds a party about to represent one of Garcilasso’s Eclogues, at a sort of fÊte champÊtre.

[788] I notice that the allusions to Garcilasso by Cervantes are chiefly in the latter part of his life; namely, in the second part of his Don Quixote, in his Comedias, his Novelas, and his “Persiles y Sigismunda,” as if his admiration were the result of his matured judgment. More than once he calls him “the prince of Spanish poets”; but this title, which can be traced back to Herrera, and has been continued down to our own times, has, perhaps, rarely been taken literally.

[789] How decidedly Garcilasso rejected the Spanish poetry written before his time can be seen, not only by his own example, but by his letter prefixed to Boscan’s translation of Castiglione, where he says that he holds it to be a great benefit to the Spanish language to translate into it things really worthy to be read; “for,” he adds, “I know not what ill luck has always followed us, but hardly any body has written any thing in our tongue worthy of that trouble.” It may be noted, on the other hand, that scarcely a word or phrase used by Garcilasso has ceased to be accounted pure Castilian;—a remark that can be extended, I think, to no writer so early. His language lives as he does, and, in no small degree, because his success has consecrated it. The word desbaÑar, in his second Eclogue, is, perhaps, the only exception to this remark.

[790] Eleven years after the publication of the works of Boscan and Garcilasso, Hernando de Hozes, in the Preface to his “Triumfos de Petrarca,” (Medina del Campo, 1554, 4to,) says, with much truth: “Since Garcilasso de la Vega and Juan Boscan introduced Tuscan measures into our Spanish language, every thing earlier, written or translated, in the forms of verse then used in Spain, has so much lost reputation, that few now care to read it, though, as we all know, some of it is of great value.” If this opinion had continued to prevail, Spanish literature would not have become what it now is.

[791] Goujet, BibliothÈque FranÇaise, Paris, 1745, 12mo, Tom. IX. pp. 372-380.

[792] It is something like the well-known German poem “Theuerdank,” which was devoted to the adventures of Maximilian I. up to the time when he married Mary of Burgundy, and, like that, owes some of its reputation to the bold engravings with which its successive editions were ornamented. One of the best of the Cavallero Determinado is the Plantiniana, Anvers, 1591, 8vo. The account of the part—earlier unsuspected—borne by the Emperor in the composition of the Cavallero Determinado is found on pp. 15 and 16 of the “Lettres sur la Vie IntÉrieure de l’Empereur Charles Quint, par Guillaume Van Male, Gentilhomme de sa Chambre, publiÉes pour la premiÈre fois par le Baron de Reiffenberg, Bruxelles, SociÉtÉ des Bibliophiles Belgiques, À Bruxelles, 1843,” 4to; a very curious collection of thirty-one Latin letters, that often contain strange details of the infirmities of the Emperor from 1550 to 1555. Their author, Van Male, or MalinÆus as he was called in Latin, and Malinez in Spanish, was one of the needy Flemings who sought favor at the court of Charles V. Being ill treated by the Duke of Alva, who was his first patron; by Avila y ZuÑiga, whose Commentaries he translated into Latin, in order to purchase his regard; and by the Emperor, to whom he rendered many kind and faithful services, he was, like many others who had come to Spain with similar hopes, glad to return to Flanders as poor as he came. He died in 1560. He was an accomplished and simple-hearted scholar, and deserved a better fate than to be rewarded for his devotion to the Imperial humors by a present of AcuÑa’s manuscript, which Avila had the malice to assure the Emperor would be well worth five hundred gold crowns to the suffering man of letters;—a remark to which the Emperor replied by saying, “William will come rightfully by the money; he has sweat hard at the work,”—“Bono jure fructus ille ad Gulielmum redeat; ut qui plurimum in illo opere sudÂrit.” Of the Emperor’s personal share in the version of the Chevalier DÉlibÉrÉ Van Male gives the following account (Jan. 13, 1551):—“CÆsar maturat editionem libri, cui titulus erat Gallicus,—Le Chevalier DÉlibÉrÉ. Hunc per otium a seipso traductum tradidit Ferdinando AcunÆ, Saxonis custodi, ut ab eo aptaretur ad numeros rithmi Hispanici; quÆ res cecidit felicissimÈ. CÆsari, sine dubio, debetur primaria traductionis industria, cÙm non solÙm linguam, sed et carmen et vocum significantiam mirÈ expressit,” etc. Epist. vi.

A version of the Chevalier DÉlibÉrÉ was also made by GerÓnimo de Urrea, and was printed in 1555. I have never seen it.

[793] The second edition of AcuÑa’s PoesÍas is that of Madrid, 1804, 12mo. His life is in Baena, “Hijos de Madrid,” Tom. II. p. 387; Tom. IV. p. 403.

[794]

Ojos claros serenos,

Si de dulce mirar sois alabados,

PorquÉ, si me mirais, mirais ayrados?

Si quanto mas piadosos,

Mas bellos pareceis Á quien os mira,

PorquÉ a mÍ solo me mirais con ira?

Ojos claros serenos,

Ya que asi me mirais, miradme al menos.

Sedano, Parnaso EspaÑol, Tom. VII. p. 75.

[795] A few of Cetina’s poems are inserted by Herrera in his notes to Garcilasso, 1580, pp. 77, 92, 190, 204, 216, etc.; and a few more by Sedano in the “Parnaso EspaÑol,” Tom. VII. pp. 75, 370; Tom. VIII. pp. 96, 216; Tom. IX. p. 134. The little we know of him is in Sismondi, Lit. Esp., Sevilla, 1841, Tom. I. p. 381. Probably he died young. (Conde Lucanor, 1575, ff. 93, 94.) The poems of Cetina were, in 1776, extant in a MS. in the library of the Duke of Arcos, at Madrid. (Obras Sueltas de Lope de Vega, Madrid, 1776, 4to, Tom. I., PrÓlogo, p. ii., note.) It is much to be desired that they should be sought out and published.

In a sonnet by Castillejo, found in his attack on the Italian school, (Obras, 1598, f. 114. a) he speaks of Luis de Haro as one of the four persons who had most contributed to the success of that school in Spain. I know of no poetry by any author of this name.

[796] The little that is known of Castillejo is to be found in his Poems, the publication of which was first permitted to Juan Lopez de Velasco. Antonio says, that Castillejo died about 1596, in which case he must have been very old; especially if, as Moratin thinks, he was born in 1494! But the facts stated about him are quite uncertain, with the exception of those told by himself. (L. F. Moratin, Obras, Tom. I. Parte I. pp. 154-156.) His works were well published at Antwerp, by Bellero, in 1598, 18mo, and in Madrid, by Sanchez, in 1600, 18mo, and they form the twelfth and thirteenth volumes of the Collection of Fernandez, Madrid, 1792, 12mo, besides which I have seen editions cited of 1582, 1615, etc. His dramas are lost;—even the “Costanza,” which Moratin saw in the Escurial, could not be found there in 1844, when I caused a search to be made for it.

[797]

Comparacion.

SeÑora, estan ya tan diestras

En serviros mis porfias,

Que acuden como a sus muestras

Sola a vos mis alegrias,

Y mis saÑas a las vuestras.

Y aunque en parte se destempla

Mi estado de vuestro estado,

Mi ser al vuestro contempla,

Como instrumento templado

Al otro con quien se templa.

f. 37.

These poems are in a small volume of miscellanies, published at Medina del Campo, called “Inventario de Obras, por Antonio de Villegas, Vezino de la Villa de Medina del Campo,” 1565, 4to. The copy I use is of another, and, I believe, the only other, edition, Medina del Campo, 1577, 12mo. Like other poets who deal in prettinesses, Villegas repeats himself occasionally, because he so much admires his own conceits. Thus, the idea in the little dÉcima translated in the text is also in a pastoral—half poetry, half prose—in the same volume. “Assi como dos instrumentos bien templados tocando las cuerdas del uno se tocan y suenan las del otro ellas mismas; assi yo en viendo este triste, me assonÉ con el,” etc. (f. 14, b.) It should be noticed, that the license to print the Inventario, dated 1551, shows it to have been written as early as that period.

[798] He is much praised for this in a poetical epistle of Luis Barahona de Soto, printed with Silvestre’s works, Granada, 1599, 12mo, f. 330.

[799] The best are his glosses on the Paternoster, f. 284, and the Ave Maria, f. 289.

[800]

SeÑora, vuestros cabellos

De oro son,

Y de azero el coraÇon,

Que no se muere por ellos.

Obras, Granada, 1599, 12mo, f. 69.

No quieren ser de oro, no,

SeÑora, vuestros cabellos,

Quel oro quiere ser dellos.

Ibid., f. 71.

[801] There were three editions of the poetry of Silvestre;—two at Granada, 1582 and 1599; and one at Lisbon, 1592, with a very good life of him by his editor, to which occasional additions are made, though, on the whole, it is abridged, by Barbosa, Tom. II. p. 419. Luis Barahona de Soto, the friend of Silvestre, speaks of him pleasantly in several of his poetical epistles, and Lope de Vega praises him in the second Silva of his “Laurel de Apolo.” His Poems are divided into four books, and fill 387 leaves in the edition of 1599, 18mo. He wrote also, religious dramas for his cathedral, which are lost. One single word is ordered by the Index of 1667 (p. 465) to be expurgated from his works!

[802] The Discourse follows the first edition of the “Conde Lucanor,” 1575, and is strongly in favor of the old Spanish verse. Argote de Molina wrote poetry himself, but such as he has given us in his “Nobleza” is of little value.

[803] Pastor de Filida, Parts IV. and VI.

[804] Obras Sueltas, Madrid, 1777, Tom. XI. pp. xxviii.-xxx.

[805] Lives of Mendoza are to be found in Antonio, “Bibliotheca Nova,” and in the edition of the “Guerra de Granada,” Valencia, 1776, 4to;—the last of which was written by IÑigo Lopez de Ayala, the learned Professor of Poetry at Madrid. CerdÁ, in Vossii Rhetorices, Matriti, 1781, 8vo, App., p. 189, note.

[806]

Toma

Veinte y tres generaciones

La prosapia de MendoÇa.

No hay linage en toda EspaÑa,

De quien conozca

Tan notable antiguedad.

De padre Á hijos se nombran,

Sin interrumpir la linea,

Tan excelentes personas,

Y de tanta calidad,

Que fuera nombrarlas todas

Contar estrellas al cielo,

Y Á la mar arenas y ondas:

Desde el seÑor de Vizcaya,

Llamado Zuria, consta

Que tiene origen su sangre.

For three-and-twenty generations past

Hath the Mendozas’ name been nobly great.

In all the realm of Spain, no other race

Can claim such notable antiquity;

For, reckoning down from sire to son, they boast,

Without a break in that long, glorious line,

So many men of might, men known to fame,

And of such noble and grave attributes,

That the attempt to count them all were vain

As would be his who sought to count the stars,

Or the wide sea’s unnumbered waves and sands.

Their noble blood goes back to Zuria,

The lord of all Biscay.

Arauco Domado, Acto III., Comedias, Tom. XX. 4to, 1629, f. 95.

Gaspar de Avila, in the first act of his “Governador Prudente,” (Comedias Escogidas, Madrid, 4to, Tomo XXI., 1664,) gives even a more minute genealogy of the Mendozas than that of Lope de Vega; so famous were they in verse as well as in history.

[807] The number of editions of the Lazarillo, during the sixteenth century, in the Low Countries, in Italy, and in Spain is great; but those printed in Spain, beginning with the one of Madrid, 1573, 18mo, are expurgated of the passages most offensive to the clergy by an order of the Inquisition; an order renewed in the Index Expurgatorius, 1667. Indeed, I do not know how the chapter on the seller of indulgences could have been written by any but a Protestant, after the Reformation was so far advanced as it then was. Mendoza does not seem ever to have acknowledged himself to be the author of Lazarillo de TÓrmes, which, in fact, was sometimes attributed to Juan de Ortega, a monk. Of a translation of Lazarillo into English, reported by Lowndes (art. Lazarillo) as the work of David Rowland, 1586, and probably the same praised in the Retrospective Review, Vol. II. p. 133, above twenty editions are known. Of a translation by James Blakeston, which seems to me better, I have a copy, dated London, 1670, 18mo.

[808] This continuation was printed at Antwerp in 1555, as “La Segunda Parte de Lazarillo de TÓrmes,” but probably appeared earlier in Spain.

[809] Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. I. pp. 680 and 728. Juan de Luna is called “H. de Luna” on the title-page of his Lazarillo,—why, I do not know.

[810] Francisco de Portugal, in his “Arte de GalanterÍa,” (Lisboa, 1670, 4to, p. 49,) says, that, when Mendoza went ambassador to Rome, he took no books with him for travelling companions but “Amadis de Gaula” and the “Celestina.”

[811] Mendoza’s success as an ambassador passed into a proverb. Nearly a century afterwards, Salas Barbadillo, in one of his tales, says of a chevalier d’industrie, “According to his own account, he was an ambassador to Rome, and as much of one as that wise and great knight, Diego de Mendoza, was in his time.” Cavallero Puntual, Segunda Parte, Madrid, 1619, 12mo, f. 5.

[812] Mendoza seems to have been treated harshly by Philip II. about some money matters relating to his accounts for work done on the castle of Siena, when he was governor there. Navarrete, Vida de Cervantes, Madrid, 1819, 8vo, p. 441.

[813] One of his poems is “A Letter in Redondillas, being under Arrest.” Obras, 1610, f. 72.

[814] There is but one edition of the poetry of Mendoza. It was published by Juan Diaz Hidalgo at Madrid, with a sonnet of Cervantes prefixed to it, in 1610, 4to; and is a rare and important book. In the address “Al Lector,” we are told that his lighter works are not published, as unbecoming his dignity; and if a sonnet, printed for the first time by Sedano, (Parnaso EspaÑol, Tom. VIII. p. 120,) is to be regarded as a specimen of those that were suppressed, we have no reason to complain.

There is in the Royal Library at Paris, MS. No. 8293, a collection of the poetry of Mendoza, which has been supposed to contain notes in his own handwriting, and which is more ample than the published volume, Ochoa, CatÁlogo, Paris, 1844, 4to, p. 532.

[815] This epistle was printed, during Mendoza’s lifetime, in the first edition of Boscan’s Works (ed. 1543, f. 129); and is to be found in the Poetical Works of Mendoza himself, (f. 9,) in Sedano, Faber, etc. The earliest printed work of Mendoza that I have seen is a cancion in the Cancionero Gen. of 1535, f. 99. b.

[816] The Hymn to Cardinal Espinosa is in the Poetical Works of Mendoza, f. 143. See also, Sedano, Tom. IV., (Indice, p. ii.,) for its history.

[817] Obras, f. 99.

[818] See the sonnet of Mendoza in Silvestre’s PoesÍas, (1599, f. 333,) in which he says,—

De vuestro ingenio y invencion

Piensa hacer industria por do pueda

Subir la tosca rima a perfeccion;

and the epistle of Mesa to the Count de Castro, in Mesa, Rimas, Madrid, 1611, 12mo, f. 158,—

AcompaÑo a Boscan y Garcilasso

El inclito Don Diego de Mendoza, etc.

[819] The one called a Villancico (Obras, f. 117) is a specimen of the best of the gay letrillas.

[820] These two letters are printed in that rude and ill-digested collection called the “Seminario Erudito,” Madrid, 1789, 4to; the first in Tom. XVIII., and the second in Tom. XXIV. Pellicer, however, says that the latter is taken from a very imperfect copy (ed. Don Quixote, Parte I. c. 1, note); and, from some extracts of Clemencin, (ed. Don Quixote, Tom. I. p. 5,) I infer that the other must be so likewise. They pass, in the MS., under the title of “Cartas del Bachiller de Arcadia.” The Catariberas, whom Mendoza so vehemently attacks in the first of them, seem to have sunk still lower after his time, and become a sort of jackals to the lawyers. See the “Soldado Pindaro” of GonÇalo de Cespedes y Meneses, (Lisboa, 1626, 4to, f. 37. b,) where they are treated with the cruellest satire. I have seen it suggested that Diego de Mendoza is not the author of the last of the two letters, but I do not know on what ground.

[821] The first edition of the “Guerra de Granada” is of Madrid, 1610, 4to; but it is incomplete. The first complete edition is the beautiful one by Monfort (Valencia, 1776, 4to); since which there have been several others.

[822] The passage in Tacitus is Annales, Lib. I. c. 61, 62; and the imitation in Mendoza is Book IV. ed. 1776, pp. 300-302.

[823] The accounts may be found in Mariana, (Lib. XXVII. c. 5,) and at the end of Hita, “Guerras de Granada,” where two of the ballads are inserted.

[824] “Incedunt,” says Tacitus, “moestos locos, visuque ac memori deformes.”

[825] “Medio campi albentia ossa, ut fugerant, ut restiterant, disjecta vel aggerata; adjacebant fragmina telorum, equorumque artus, simul truncis arborum antefixa ora.”

[826] “Igitur Romanus, qui aderat, exercitus, sextum post cladis annum, trium legionum ossa, nullo noscente alienas reliquias an suorum humo tegeret, omnes, ut conjunctos ut consanguineos, auct in hostem irÂ, moesti simul et infensi condebant.”

[827] The speech of El Zaguer is in the first book of the History.

[828] There are some acute remarks on the style of Mendoza in the Preface to Garces, “Vigor y Elegancia de la Lengua Castellana,” Madrid, 1791, 4to, Tom. II.

[829] Pleasant glimpses of the occupations and character of Mendoza, during the last two years of his life, may be found in several letters he wrote to Zurita, the historian, which are preserved in Dormer, “Progresos de la Historia de Aragon” (Zaragoza, 1680, folio, pp. 501, etc.). The way in which he announces his intention of giving his books to the Escurial Library, in a letter, dated at Granada, 1 Dec., 1573, is very characteristic: “I keep collecting my books and sending them to AlcalÁ, because the late Doctor Velasco wrote me word, that his Majesty would be pleased to see them, and perhaps put them in the Escurial. And I think he is right; for as it is the most sumptuous building of ancient or modern times, that I have seen, so I think that nothing should be wanting in it, and that it ought to contain the most sumptuous library in the world.” In another, a few months only before his death, he says, “I go on dusting my books and examining them to see whether they are injured by the rats, and am well pleased to find them in good condition. Strange authors there are among them, of whom I have no recollection; and I wonder I have learnt so little, when I find how much I have read.” Letter of Nov. 18, 1574.

[830] Escobar complains that many of the questions sent to him were in such bad verse, that it cost him a great deal of labor to put them into a proper shape; and it must be admitted, that both questions and answers generally read as if they came from one hand. Sometimes a long moral dissertation occurs, especially in the prose of the second volume, but the answers are rarely tedious from their length. Those in the first volume are the best, and Nos. 280, 281, 282, are curious, from the accounts they contain of the poet himself, who must have died after 1552. In the Preface to the first volume, he says the Admiral died in 1538. If the whole work had been completed, according to its author’s purpose, it would have contained just a thousand questions and answers. For a specimen, we may take No. 10 (Quatrocientas Preguntas, ÇaragoÇa, 1545, folio) as one of the more ridiculous, where the Admiral asks how many keys Christ gave to St. Peter, and No. 190 as one of the better sort, where the Admiral asks, whether it be necessary to kneel before the priest at confession, if the penitent finds it very painful; to which the old monk answers gently and well,—

He that, through suffering sent from God above

Confessing, kneels not, still commits no sin;

But let him cherish modest, humble love,

And that shall purify his heart within.

The fifth part of the first volume consists of riddles in the old style; and, as Escobar adds, they are sometimes truly very old riddles; so old, that they must have been generally known. The second volume was printed at Valladolid, 1552, and both are in folio.

[831] The volume of Corelas’s “Trezientas Preguntas” (Valladolid, 1546, 4to) is accompanied by a learned prose commentary in a respectable didactic style.

[832] Docientas Preguntas, etc., por Juan Gonzalez de la Torre, Madrid, 1590, 4to.

[833] I should rather have said, perhaps, that the Preguntas were soon restricted to the fashionable societies and academies of the time, as we see them wittily exhibited in the first jornada of Calderon’s “Secreto Á voces.”

[834] The general tendency and tone of the didactic prose-writers in the reign of Charles V. prove this fact; but the Discourse of Morales, the historian, prefixed to the works of his uncle, Fernan Perez de Oliva, shows the way in which the change was brought about. Some Spaniards, it is plain from this curious document, were become ashamed to write any longer in Latin, as if their own language were unfit for practical use in matters of grave importance, when they had, in the Italian, examples of entire success before them. Obras de Oliva, Madrid, 1787, 12mo, Tom. I. pp. xvi.-xlvii.

[835] There is a letter of Villalobos, dated at Calatayud, Oct. 6, 1515, in which he says he was detained in that city by the king’s severe illness, (Obras, ÇaragoÇa, 1544, folio, f. 71. b.) This was the illness of which Ferdinand died in less than four months afterward.

[836] Mendez, TypographÍa, p. 249. Antonio, Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Tom. II. p. 344, note.

[837] He seems, from the letter just noticed, to have been displeased with his position as early as 1515; but he must have continued at court above twenty years longer, when he left it poor and disheartened. (Obras, f. 45.) From a passage two leaves farther on, I think he left it after the death of the Empress, in 1539.

[838] If Poggio’s trifle, “An Seni sit Uxor ducenda,” had been published when Villalobos wrote, I should not doubt he had seen it. As it is, the coincidence may not be accidental, for Poggio died in 1449, though his Dialogue was not, I believe, printed till the present century.

[839] The Problemas constitute the first part of the Obras de Villalobos, 1544, and fill 34 leaves.

[840] Obras, f. 35.

[841] I have translated the title of this Treatise “The Three Great Annoyances.” In the original it is “The Three Great ——,” leaving the title, says Villalobos in his PrÓlogo, unfinished, so that every body may fill it up as he likes.

[842] The most ample life of Oliva is in Rezabal y Ugarte, “Biblioteca de los Escritores, que han sido individuos de los seis Colegios Mayores” (Madrid, 1805, 4to, pp. 239, etc.). But all that we know about him, of any real interest, is to be found in the exposition he made of his claims and merits when he contended publicly for the chair of Moral Philosophy at Salamanca. (Obras, 1787, Tom. II. pp. 26-51.) In the course of it, he says his travels all over Spain and out of it, in pursuit of knowledge, had amounted to more than three thousand leagues.

[843] Obras, Tom. I. p. xxiii.

[844] The works of Oliva have been published at least twice, the first time by his nephew, Ambrosio de Morales, 4to, CÓrdova, in 1585, and again at Madrid, 1787, 2 vols. 12mo. In the Index Expurgatorius, (1667, p. 424,) they are forbidden to be read, “till they are corrected,”—a phrase which seems to have left each copy of them to the discretion of the spiritual director of its owner. In the edition of 1787, a sheet was cancelled, in order to get rid of a note of Morales. See Index of 1790.

In the same volume with the minor works of Oliva, Morales published fifteen moral discourses of his own, and one by Pedro Valles of CÓrdova, none of which have much literary value, though several, like one on the Advantage of Teaching with Gentleness, and one on the Difference between Genius and Wisdom, are marked with excellent sense. That of Valles is on the Fear of Death.

[845] Siguense dos Coloquios de Amores y otro de BienaventuranÇa, etc., por Juan de SedeÑo, vezino de Arevalo, 1536, sm. 4to, no printer or place, pp. 16. This is the same Juan de SedeÑo who translated the “Celestina” into verse in 1540, and who wrote the “Suma de Varones Ilustres” (Arevalo, 1551, and Toledo, 1590, folio);—a poor biographical dictionary, containing lives of about two hundred distinguished personages, alphabetically arranged, and beginning with Adam. SedeÑo was a soldier, and served in Italy.

[846] The whole Dialogue—both the part written by Oliva and that written by Francisco Cervantes—was published at Madrid (1772, 4to) in a new edition by CerdÁ y Rico, with his usual abundant, but awkward, prefaces and annotations.

[847] It is republished in the volume mentioned in the last note; but we know nothing of its author.

[848] DiÁlogos muy Subtiles y Notables, etc., por D. Pedro de Navarra, Obispo de Comenge, ÇaragoÇa, 1567, 12mo, 118 leaves. The first five Dialogues are on the Character becoming a Royal Chronicler; the next four on the Differences between a Rustic and a Noble Life; and the remaining thirty-one on Preparation for Death;—all written in a pure, simple Castilian style, but with little either new or striking in the thoughts. Their author says, it was a rule of the Academia, that the person who arrived last at each meeting should furnish a subject for discussion, and direct another member to reduce to writing the remarks that might be made on it,—Cardinal Poggio, Juan d’EstuÑiga, knight-commander of Castile, and other persons of note, being of the society. Navarra adds, that he had written two hundred dialogues, in which there were “few matters that had not been touched upon in that excellent Academy,” and notes especially, that the subject of Preparation for Death had been discussed after the decease of Cobos, a confidential minister of Charles V., and that he himself had acted as secretary on the occasion. Traces of any thing contemporary are, however, rare in the forty dialogues he printed;—the most important that I have noticed relating to Charles V. and his retirement at San Yuste, which the good Bishop seems to have believed was a sincere abandonment of all worldly thoughts and passions. I find nothing to illustrate the character of CortÉs, except the fact that such meetings were held at his house.

[849] Silva de Varia Leccion, por Pedro Mexia. The first edition (Sevilla, 1543, fol., lit. got., 144 leaves) is in only three parts. Another, which I also possess, is of Madrid, 1669, and in six books, filling about 700 closely printed quarto pages. It was long very popular, and there are many editions of it, besides translations into Italian, German, French, Flemish, and English. One English version is by Thomas Fortescue, and appeared in 1571. (Warton’s Eng. Poetry, London, 1824, 8vo, Tom. IV. p. 312.) Another, which is anonymous, is called “The Treasure of Ancient and Modern Times, etc., translated out of that worthy Spanish Gentleman, Pedro Mexia, and Mr. Francisco Sansovino, the Italian,” etc. (London, 1613, fol.). It is a curious mixture of similar discussions by different authors, Spanish, Italian, and French. Mexia’s part begins at Book I. c. 8.

[850] The earliest edition of the Dialogues, I think, is that of Seville, 1547, 8vo. The one I use is in 12mo, and was printed at Seville, 1562, black letter, 167 leaves. The second dialogue, which is on Inviting to Feasts, is amusing; but the last, which is on subjects of physical science, such as the causes of thunder, earthquakes, and comets, is now-a-days only curious or ridiculous. At the end of the Dialogues, and sometimes at the end of old editions of the Silva, is found a free translation of the Exhortation to Virtue by Isocrates, made from the Latin of Agricola, because Mexia did not understand Greek. It is of no value.

[851] DiÁlogo de la Verdadera Honra Militar, por GerÓnimo Ximenez de Urrea. There are editions of 1566, 1575, 1661, etc. (Latassa, Bib. Arag. Nueva, Tom. I. p. 264.) Mine is a small quarto volume, Zaragoza, 1642. One of the most amusing passages in the Dialogue of Urrea is the one in Part First, containing a detailed statement of every thing relating to the duel proposed by Francis I. to Charles V.

[852] As late as 1592, when the “Conversion de la Magdalena,” by Pedro Malon de Chaide was published, the opposition to the use of the Castilian in grave subjects was continued. He says, people talked to him as if it were “a sacrilege” to discuss such matters except in Latin. (f. 15.) But he replies, like a true Spaniard, that the Castilian is better for such purposes than Latin or Greek, and that he trusts before long to see it as widely spread as the arms and glories of his country. (f. 17.)

[853] A full account of Juan Lopez de Vivero Palacios Rubios, who was a man of consequence in his time, and engaged in the famous compilation of the Spanish laws called “Leyes de Toro,” is contained in Rezabal y Ugarte (Biblioteca, pp. 266-271). His works in Latin are numerous; but in Spanish he published only “Del Esfuerzo Belico Heroyco,” which appeared first at Salamanca in 1524, folio, but of which there is a beautiful Madrid edition, 1793, folio, with notes by Francisco Morales.

[854] Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. 8. He flourished about 1531-45. His “AgonÍa del TrÁnsito de la Muerte,” a glossary to which, by its author, is dated 1543, was first printed from his corrected manuscript, many years later. My copy, which seems to be of the first edition, is dated AlcalÁ, 1574, and is in 12mo. The treatise called “Diferencias de Libros que ay en el Universo,” by the same author, who, however, here writes his name Venegas, was finished in 1539, and printed at Toledo in 1540, 4to. It is written in a good style, though not without conceits of thought, and conceited phrases. But it is not, as its title might seem to imply, a criticism on books and authors, but the opinion of Vanegas himself, how we should study the great books of God, nature, man, and Christianity. It is, in fact, intended to discourage the reading of books then much in fashion, and deemed by him bad.

[855] He died in 1569. In 1534 he was in the prisons of the Inquisition, and in 1559 one of his books was put into the Index Expurgatorius. Nevertheless, he was regarded as a sort of Saint. (Llorente, Histoire de l’Inquisition, Tom. II. pp. 7 and 423.) His “Cartas Espirituales” were not printed, I believe, till the year of his death. (Antonio, Bib. Nova, Tom. I. pp. 639-642.) His treatises on Self-knowledge, on Prayer, and on other religious subjects, are equally well written, and in the same style of eloquence. A long life, or rather eulogy, of him is prefixed to the first volume of his works, (Madrid, 1595, 4to,) by Juan Diaz.

[856] A life of Guevara is prefixed to the edition of his EpÍstolas, Madrid, 1673, 4to; but there is a good account of him by himself in the PrÓlogo to his “Menosprecio de Corte.”

[857] See the argument to the “DÉcada de los CÉsares.”

[858] Watt, in his “Bibliotheca Britannica,” and Brunet, in his “Manuel du Libraire,” give quite curious lists of the different editions and translations of the works of Guevara, showing their great popularity all over Europe. In French, the number of translations in the sixteenth century was extraordinary. See La Croix du Maine et du Verdier, BibliothÈques, (Paris, 1772, 4to, Tom. III. p. 123,) and the articles there referred to.

[859] There are editions of the Cartas del Bachiller Rua, Burgos, 1549, 4to, and Madrid, 1736, 4to, and a life of him in Bayle, Dict. Historique, Amsterdam, 1740, folio, Tom. IV. p. 95. The letters of Rua, or Rhua, as his name is often written, are respectable in style, though their critical spirit is that of the age and country in which they were written. The short reply of Guevara following the second of Rua’s letters is not creditable to him.

[860] Antonio, in his article on Guevara, (Bib. Nova, Tom. I. p. 125,) is very severe; but his tone is gentle, compared with that of Bayle, (Dict. Hist., Tom. II. p. 631,) who always delights to show up any defects he can find in the characters of priests and monks. There are editions of the Relox de Principes, of 1529, 1532, 1537, etc.

[861] La Fontaine, Fables, Lib. XI. fab. 7, and Guevara, Relox, Lib. III. c. 3. The speech which the Spanish Bishop, the true inventor of this happy fiction, gives to his RÚstico de Germania is, indeed, too long; but it was popular. Tirso de Molina, after describing a peasant who approached Xerxes, says in the Prologue to one of his plays,—

In short,

He represented to the very life

The Rustic that so boldly spoke

Before the Roman Senate.

Cigarrales de Toledo, Madrid, 1624, 4to, p. 102

La Fontaine, however, did not trouble himself about the original Spanish or its popularity. He took his beautiful version of the fable from an old French translation, made by a gentleman who went to Madrid in 1526 with the Cardinal de Grammont, on the subject of Francis the First’s imprisonment. It is in the rich old French of that period, and La Fontaine often adopts, with his accustomed skill, its picturesque phraseology. I suppose this translation is the one cited by Brunet as made by RenÉ Bertaut, of which there were many editions. Mine is of Paris, 1540, folio, by Galliot du PrÉ, and is entitled “Lorloge des Princes, traduict Despaignol en Langaige FranÇois”; but does not give the translator’s name.

[862] The “DÉcada de los CÉsares,” with the other treatises of Guevara here spoken of, except his Epistles, are to be found in a collection of his works first printed at Valladolid in 1539. My copy is of the second edition, Valladolid, 1545, folio, black letter, 214 leaves.

[863] These very letters, however, were thought worth translating into English by Sir Geoffrey Fenton, and are found ff. 68-77 of a curious collection taken from different authors and published in London, (1575, 4to, black letter,) under the title of “Golden Epistles.” Edward Hellowes had already translated the whole of Guevara’s Epistles in 1574; which were again translated, but not very well, by Savage, in 1657.

[864] EpÍstolas Familiares de D. Antonio de Guevara, Madrid, 1673, 4to p. 12, and elsewhere. Cervantes, en passant, gives a blow at the letter of Guevara about LaÏs, in the PrÓlogo to the first part of his Don Quixote.

[865] One of these religious treatises is entitled “Monte Calvario,” 1542, translated into English in 1595; and the other, “Oratorio de Religiosos,” 1543, which is a series of short exhortations or homilies with a text prefixed to each. The first is ordered to be expurgated in the Index of 1667, (p. 67,) and both are censured in that of 1790.

[866] Hellowes translated this, also, and printed it in 1578. (Sir E. Brydges, Censura Literaria, Tom. III. 1807, p. 210.) It is an unpromising subject in any language, but in the original Guevara has shown some pleasantry, and an easier style than is common with him.

[867] Both these treatises were translated into English; the first by Sir Francis Briant, in 1548. Ames’s Typog. Antiquities, ed. Dibdin, London, 1810, 4to, Tom. III. p. 460.

[868] Llorente (Hist. de l’Inquisition, Tom. II. pp. 281 and 478) makes some mistakes about ValdÉs, of whom the best accounts are to be found in McCrie’s “Hist. of the Progress, etc., of the Reformation in Italy,” (Edinburgh, 1827, 8vo, pp. 106 and 121,) and in his “Hist. of the Progress, etc., of the Reformation in Spain” (Edinburgh, 1829, 8vo, pp. 140-146). ValdÉs is supposed to have been an anti-Trinitarian, but McCrie does not admit it.

[869] His chief error is in supposing that the Greek language once prevailed generally in Spain, and constituted the basis of an ancient Spanish language, which, he thinks, was spread through the country before the Romans appeared in Spain.

[870] The intimations alluded to are, that the ValdÉs of the Dialogue had been at Rome; that he was a person of some authority; and that he had lived long at Naples and in other parts of Italy. He speaks of Garcilasso de la Vega as if he were alive, and Garcilasso died in 1536. Llorente, in a passage just cited, calls ValdÉs the author of the DiÁlogo de las Lenguas; and Clemencin—a safer authority—does the same, once, in the notes to his edition of Don Quixote, (Tom. IV. p. 285,) though in many other notes he treats it as if its author were unknown.

[871] The DiÁlogo de las Lenguas was not printed till it appeared in Mayans y Siscar, “OrÍgenes de la Lengua EspaÑola,” (Madrid, 1737, 2 tom. 12mo); where it fills the first half of the second volume, and is the best thing in the collection. Probably the manuscript had been kept out of sight as the work of a well-known heretic. Mayans says, that it could be traced to Zurita, the historian, and that, in 1736, it was purchased for the Royal Library, of which Mayans himself was then librarian. One leaf was wanting, which he could not supply; and though he seems to have believed ValdÉs to have been the author of the Dialogue, he avoids saying so,—perhaps from an unwillingness to attract the notice of the Inquisition to it. (OrÍgenes, Tom. I. pp. 173-180.) Iriarte, in the “Aprobacion” of the collection, treats the DiÁlogo as if its author were quite unknown.

[872] Mayans y Siscar, OrÍgenes, Tom. I. p. 97.

[873] Ibid., p. 98.

[874] Sandoval says that Charles V. suffered greatly in the opinion of the Spaniards, on his first arrival in Spain, because, owing to his inability to speak Spanish, they had hardly any proper intercourse with him. It was, he adds, as if they could not talk with him at all. Historia, Anvers, 1681, folio, Tom. I. p. 141.

[875] Mayans y Siscar, OrÍgenes, Tom. II. pp. 127-133. The author of the DiÁlogo urges the introduction of a considerable number of words from the Italian, such as discurso, facilitar, fantasia, novela, etc., which have long since been adopted and fully recognized by the Academy. Diego de Mendoza, though partly of the Italian school, objected to the word centinela as a needless Italianism; but it was soon fully received into the language. (Guerra de Granada, ed. 1776, Lib. III. c. 7, p. 176.) A little later, Luis Velez de Guevara, in Tranco X. of his “Diablo Cojuelo,” denied citizenship to fulgor, purpurear, pompa, and other words now in good use.

[876] Mendez, TypographÍa, p. 175. Antonio, Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Tom. II. p. 333.

[877] Mendez, Typog., pp. 239-242. For the great merits of Antonio de Lebrixa, in relation to the Spanish language, see “Specimen BibliothecÆ Hispano-MayansianÆ ex Museo D. Clementis,” HannoverÆ, 1753, 4to, pp. 4-39.

[878] Mendez, pp. 243 and 212, and Antonio, Bib. Nova, Tom. II. p. 266.

[879] The Grammar of Juan de Navidad, 1567, is not an exception to this remark, because it was intended to teach Spanish to Italians, and not to natives.

[880] Clemencin, in Mem. de la Academia de Historia, Tom. VI. p. 472, notes.

[881] It is curious to observe, that the author of the “DiÁlogo de las Lenguas,” (OrÍgenes, Tom. II. p. 31,) who wrote about 1535, Mayans, (OrÍgenes, Tom. I. p. 8,) who wrote in 1737, and Sarmiento, (Memorias, p. 94,) who wrote about 1760, all speak of the character of the Castilian and the prevalence of the dialects in nearly the same terms.

[882] De las Fiebres Interpoladas, Metro I., Obras, 1543, f. 27.

[883] See Mariana’s account of the glories of Toledo, Historia, Lib. XVI. c. 15, and elsewhere. He was himself from the kingdom of Toledo, and often boasts of its renown. Cervantes, in Don Quixote, (Parte II. c. 19,) implies that the Toledan was accounted the purest Spanish of his time. It still claims to be so in ours.

[884] “Also, at the same Cortes, the same King, Don Alfonso X., ordered, if thereafter there should be a doubt in any part of his kingdom about the meaning of any Castilian word, that reference thereof should be had to this city as to the standard of the Castilian tongue [como Á metro de la lengua Castellana], and that they should adopt the meaning and definition here given to such word, because our tongue is more perfect here than elsewhere.” (Francisco de Pisa, Descripcion de la Imperial Ciudad de Toledo, ed. Thomas Tamaio de Vargas, Toledo, 1617, fol., Lib. I. c. 36, f. 56.) The Cortes here referred to is said by Pisa to have been held in 1253; in which year the Chronicle of Alfonso X. (Valladolid, 1554, fol., c. 2) represents the king to have been there.

[885] Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. 127, and Preface to EpÍstolas Familiares of Guevara, ed. 1673.

[886] See the vituperative article Guevara, in Bayle.

[887] The best life of Ocampo is to be found in the “Biblioteca de los Escritores que han sido Individuos de los Seis Colegios Mayores,” etc., por Don Josef de Rezabal y Ugarte (pp. 233-238); but there is one prefixed to the edition of his CrÓnica, 1791.

[888] The first edition of the first four books of the Chronicle of Ocampo was published at Zamora, 1544, in a beautiful black-letter folio, and was followed by an edition of the whole at Medina del Campo, 1553, folio. The best, I suppose, is the one published at Madrid, 1791, in 2 vols. 4to.

[889] For this miserable forgery see Niceron (Hommes Illustres, Paris, 1730, Tom. XI. pp. 1-11; Tom. XX., 1732, pp. 1-6);—and for the simplicity of Ocampo in trusting to it, see the last chapter of his first book, and all the passages where he cites Juan de Viterbo y su Beroso, etc.

[890] Pero Mexia, in the concluding words of his “Historia Imperial y Cesarea.”

[891] Capmany, Eloquencia EspaÑola, Tom. II. p. 295.

[892] I say “apparently,” because in his “Historia Imperial y Cesarea,” he declares, speaking of the achievements of Charles V., “I never was so presumptuous as to deem myself sufficient to record them.” This was in 1545. He was not appointed Historiographer till 1548. See notices of him by Pacheco, in the Semanario Pintoresco, 1844, p. 406. He died in 1552.

From the time of Charles V. there seem generally to have been chroniclers of the kingdom and chroniclers of the personal history of its kings. At any rate, that monarch had Ocampo and Garibay for the first purpose; and Guevara, SepÚlveda, and Mexia for the second. LorenÇo de Padilla, Archdeacon of MÁlaga, is also mentioned by Dormer (Progresos, Lib. II. c. 2) as one of his chroniclers. Indeed, it does not seem easy to determine how many enjoyed the honor of that title.

[893] The first edition appeared in 1545. The one I use is of Anvers, 1561, fol. The best notice of his life, perhaps, is the article about him in the Biographie Universelle.

[894] He left Salamanca two or three years before he came to the New World; but old Bernal Diaz, who knew him well, says: “He was a scholar, and I have heard it said he was a Bachelor of Laws; and when he talked with lawyers and scholars, he answered in Latin. He was somewhat of a poet, and made couplets in metre and in prose, [en metro y en prosa,]” etc. It would be amusing to see poems by CortÉs, and especially what the rude old chronicler calls coplas en prosa; but he knew about as much concerning such matters as Mons. Jourdain. CortÉs, however, was always fond of the society of cultivated men. In his house at Madrid, (see ante, p. 537,) after his return from America, was held one of those Academies which were then beginning to be imitated from Italy.

[895] The printed “Relaciones” may be found in Barcia, “Historiadores Primitivos de las Indias Occidentales,” (Madrid, 1749, 3 tom., folio,)—a collection printed after its editor’s death and very ill arranged. Barcia was a man of literary distinction, much employed in affairs of state, and one of the founders of the Spanish Academy. He died in 1743. (Baena, Hijos de Madrid, Tom. I. p. 106.) For the last and unpublished “Relacion” of CortÉs, as well as for his unpublished letters, I am indebted to my friend Mr. Prescott, who has so well used them in his “Conquest of Mexico.”

[896] “The first worthy of being so called,” says MuÑoz, Hist. del Nuevo Mundo, Madrid, 1793, folio, p. xviii.

[897] The two works of Gomara may be well consulted in Barcia, “Historiadores Primitivos,” Tom. II., which they fill. They were first printed in 1553, and though, as Antonio says, (Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. 437,) they were forbidden to be either reprinted or read, four editions of them appeared before the end of the century.

[898] “About this first going of CortÉs as captain on this expedition, the ecclesiastic Gomara tells many things grossly untrue in his history, as might be expected from a man who neither saw nor heard any thing about them, except what Fernando CortÉs told him and gave him in writing; Gomara being his chaplain and servant, after he was made Marquis and returned to Spain the last time.” Las Casas, (Historia de las Indias, Parte III. c. 113, MS.,) a prejudiced witness, but, on a point of fact within his own knowledge, one to be believed.

[899] See “Historia Verdadera de la Conquista de la Nueva EspaÑa, por el Capitan Bernal Diaz del Castillo, uno de los Conquistadores,” Madrid, 1632, folio, cap. 211.

[900] He says he was in one hundred and nineteen battles (f. 254. d); that is, I suppose, fights of all kinds.

[901] It was not printed till long afterwards, and was then dedicated to Philip IV. Some of its details are quite ridiculous. He gives even a list of the individual horses that were used on the great expedition of CortÉs, and often describes the separate qualities of a favorite charger as carefully as he does those of his rider.

[902] “Yo naci aÑo de 1478,” he says, in his “Quinquagenas,” when noticing Pedro Fernandez de CÓrdoba; and he more than once speaks of himself as a native of Madrid. He says, too, expressly, that he was present at the surrender of Granada, and that he saw Columbus at Barcelona, on his first return from America in 1493. Quinquagenas, MS.

[903] “Veedor de las Fundiciones de Oro,” he describes himself in the Proemio of his work presented to Charles V. in 1525 (Barcia, Tom. I.); and long afterwards, in the opening of Book XLVII. of his Historias, MS., he still speaks of himself as holding the same office.

[904] I do not feel sure that Antonio is not mistaken in ascribing to Oviedo a separate life of Cardinal Ximenes, because the life contained in the “Quinquagenas” is so ample; but the Chronicles of Ferdinand and Isabella, and Charles V., are alluded to by Oviedo himself in the Proemio to Charles V. Neither has ever been printed.

[905] He calls it, in his letter to the Emperor, at the end of the “Sumario” in 1525, “La General y Natural Historia de las Indias, que de mi mano tengo escrita”;—in the Introduction to Lib. XXXIII. he says, “En treinta y quatro aÑos que ha que estoy en estas partes”;—and in the ninth chapter, which ends Lib. XXXIV., we have an event recorded with the date of 1548;—so that, for these three-and-twenty years, he was certainly employed, more or less, on this great work. But at the end of Book XXXVII. he says, “Y esto baste quanto a este breve libro del numero treinta y siete, hasta que el tiempo nos avise de otras cosas que en el se acrescientan”; from which I infer that he kept each book, or each large division of his work, open for additions, as long as he lived, and therefore that parts of it may have been written as late as 1557.

[906] “I have royal orders that the governors should send me a relation of whatever I shall touch in the affairs of their governments, for this History.” (Lib. XXXIII., Introd., MS.) I apprehend, Oviedo was the first authorized Chronicler of the New World, an office which was at one period better paid than any other similar office in the kingdom, and was held, at different times, by Herrera, Tamayo, SolÍs, and other writers of distinction. It ceased, I believe, with the creation of the Academy of History.

[907] “We owe much to those who give us notice of what we have not seen or known ourselves; as I am now indebted to a remarkable and learned man, of the illustrious Senate of Venice, called Secretary Juan Bautista Ramusio, who, hearing that I was inclined to the things of which I here treat, has, without knowing me personally, sought me for his friend and communicated with me by letters, sending me a new geography,” etc. Lib. XXXVIII., MS.

[908] As a specimen of his manner, I add the following account of Almagro, one of the early adventurers in Peru, whom the Pizarros put to death in Cuzco, after they had obtained uncontrolled power there. “Therefore hear and read all the authors you may, and compare, one by one, whatever they relate, that all men, not kings, have freely given away, and you shall surely see how there is none that can equal Almagro in this matter, and how none can be compared to him; for kings, indeed, may give and know how to give whatever pleaseth them, both cities and lands, and lordships, and other great gifts; but that a man whom yesterday we saw so poor, that all he possessed was a very small matter, should have a spirit sufficient for what I have related,—I hold it to be so great a thing, that I know not the like of it in our own or any other time. For I myself saw, when his companion, Pizarro, came from Spain, and brought with him that body of three hundred men to PanamÁ, that, if Almagro had not received them and shown them so much free hospitality with so generous a spirit, few or none of them could have escaped alive; for the land was filled with disease, and the means of living were so dear, that a bushel of maize was worth two or three pesos, and an arroba of wine six or seven gold pieces. To all of them he was a father, and a brother, and a true friend; for inasmuch as it is pleasant and grateful to some men to make gain, and to heap up and to gather together moneys and estates, even so much and more pleasant was it to him to share with others and to give away; so that the day when he gave nothing, he accounted it for a day lost. And in his very face you might see the pleasure and true delight he felt when he found occasion to help him who had need. And since, after so long a fellowship and friendship as there was between these two great leaders, from the days when their companions were few and their means small, till they saw themselves full of wealth and strength, there hath at last come forth so much discord, scandal, and death, well must it appear matter of wonder even to those who shall but hear of it, and much more to us, who knew them in their low estate, and have no less borne witness to their greatness and prosperity.” (General y Natural Historia de las Indias, Lib. XLVII., MS.) Much of it is, like the preceding passage, in the true, old, rambling, moralizing, chronicling vein.

[909] “En este que estamos de 1545.” Quinquagenas, MS., El Cardinal Cisneros.

[910] As in the Dialogue on Juan de Silva, Conde de Cifuentes, he says, “En este aÑo en que estamos 1550”; and in the Dialogue on Mendoza, Duke of Infantado, he uses the same words, as he does again in that on Pedro Fernandez de CÓrdova. There is an excellent note on Oviedo, in Vol. I. p. 112 of the American ed. of “Ferdinand and Isabella,” by my friend Mr. Prescott, to whom I am indebted for the manuscript of the Quinquagenas, as well as of the Historia.

[911] There is a valuable life of Las Casas in Quintana, “Vidas de EspaÑoles CÉlebres” (Madrid, 1833, 12mo, Tom. III. pp. 255-510). The seventh article in the Appendix, concerning the connection of Las Casas with the slave-trade, will be read with particular interest; because, by materials drawn from unpublished documents of unquestionable authenticity, it makes it certain, that, although at one time Las Casas favored what had been begun earlier,—the transportation of negroes to the West Indies, in order to relieve the Indians,—as other good men in his time favored it, he did so under the impression, that, according to the law of nations, the negroes thus brought to America were both rightful captives taken by the Portuguese in war and rightful slaves. But afterwards he changed his mind on the subject. He declared “the captivity of the negroes to be as unjust as that of the Indians,”—“ser tan injusto el cautiverio de los negros como el de los Indios,”—and even expressed a fear, that, though he had fallen into the error of favoring the importation of black slaves into America from ignorance and good-will, he might, after all, fail to stand excused for it before the Divine Justice. Quintana, Tom. III. p. 471.

[912] Quintana, EspaÑoles CÉlebres, Tom. III. p. 321.

[913] Quintana (p. 413, note) doubts when this famous treatise was written; but Las Casas himself says, in the opening of his “BrevÍsima Relacion,” that it was written in 1542.

[914] This important tract continued long to be printed separately, both at home and abroad. I use a copy of it in double columns, Spanish and Italian, Venice, 1643, 12mo; but, like the rest, the BrevÍsima Relacion may be consulted in an edition of the Works of Las Casas by Llorente, which appeared at Paris in 1822, in 2 vols. 8vo, in the original Spanish, almost at the same time with his translation of them into French. It should be noticed, perhaps, that Llorente’s version is not always strict, and that the two new treatises he imputes to Las Casas, as well as the one on the Authority of Kings, are not absolutely proved to be his.

The translation referred to above appeared, in fact, the same year, and at the end of it an “Apologie de Las Casas,” by GrÉgoire, with letters of Funes and Mier, and notes of Llorente to sustain it,—all to defend Las Casas on the subject of the slave-trade; but Quintana, as we have seen, has gone to the original documents, and leaves no doubt, both that Las Casas once favored it, and that he altered his mind afterwards.

[915] “Todo esto me dixo el mismo CortÉs con otras cosas cerca dello, despues de Marques, en la villa de MonÇon, estando alli celebrando cortes el Emperador, aÑo de mil y quinientos y quarenta y dos, riendo y mofando con estas formales palabras, a la mi fÉ andubÉ por alli como un gentil cosario.” (Historia General de las Indias, Lib. III. c. 115, MS.) It may be worth noting, that 1542, the year when CortÉs made this scandalous speech, was the year in which Las Casas wrote his BrevÍsima Relacion.

[916] For a notice of all the works of Las Casas, see Quintana, Vidas, Tom. III. pp. 507-510.

[917] The two works of Alvar NuÑez Cabeza de Vaca, namely, his “Naufragios” and his “Comentarios y Sucesos de su Gobierno en el Rio de la Plata,” were first printed in 1555, and are to be found in Barcia, Historiadores Primitivos, Tom. I.

[918] The work of Francisco de Xerez, “Conquista de Peru,” written by order of Francisco Pizarro, was first published in 1547, and is to be found in Ramusio, (Venezia, ed. Giunti, folio, Tom. III.,) and in Barcia’s collection (Tom. III.). It ends with some poor verses in defence of himself.

[919] “Historia del Descubrimiento y Conquista del Peru,” first printed in 1555, and several times since. It is in Barcia, Tom. III., and was translated into Italian by Ulloa. Çarate was sent out by Charles V. to examine into the state of the revenues of Peru, and brings down his accounts as late as the overthrow of Gonzalo Pizarro. See an excellent notice of Çarate at the end of Mr. Prescott’s last chapter on the Conquest of Peru.

Transcriber’s note

  • Obvious printer errors have been silently corrected.
  • Original spelling was kept, but variant spellings were made consistent when a predominant usage was found.
  • Footnotes have been renumbered and moved to the end of the book.
  • Footnotes inside a footnote are not numbered, but marked with “[*]” and placed at the end of the main footnote. They are found at footnotes [23], [142], [154] and [251].
  • The anchor placements for footnote [543] (p. 331) and footnote [696] (p. 421) are conjectured. No anchors were found in the printed original.
  • Caesuras in split verses have been marked as “ · ”.





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