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 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 AN ELEMENTARY HANDBOOK 
 
 WITH INDICES, ETC 
 
 BY 
 
 H. BUTLER CLARKE, M.A. 
 
 TAYLORIAN TEACHER OF SPANISH IN THE UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD, 
 CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE REAL ACADEMIA DE LA HISTORIA, REAL 
 
 SOCIEDAD ECON6MICA, ETC. 
 
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 LONDON 
 
 SWAN SONNENSCHEIN AND CO 
 NEW YORK: MACMILLAN AND CO 
 
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 A 
 DONA MARfA DEL PILAR DE V Y L 
 
 A CUYA AMISTAD DEBO 
 LO QUE SE ME ALCANZA DE LA HERMOSA LENOUA 
 
 DE SU PAIS, 
 
 Y DE CUYO GUSTO EXQUISITO Y RECTO JUICIO 
 
 QUISIERA REFLEJAR ALGO 
 
 EN ESTAS PAGINAS. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 During the time that I have held the Taylorian Teachership 
 of Spanish at Oxford, I have frequently received letters asking 
 what there is to read in Spanish besides Cervantes and 
 Calderon, and what editions should be used. The present 
 volume is intended to answer these questions, and to show the 
 position occupied by the great writers in the general scheme 
 of the literature of their country. The various divisions of 
 this great subject have been exhaustively treated up to their 
 several dates by Nicolas Antonio, Ticknor, Amador de los Rios, 
 Schack and Wolf, to whose books I beg to acknowledge my 
 many obligations, hoping at the same time that the present 
 general sketch may be useful to the general reader, and to the 
 beginner, and may serve as an introduction to more extensive 
 works. 
 
 I am aware that a few short extracts, however well chosen, 
 can give no adequate idea of the manner of a great writer or 
 of the merits of a great book, and that translations, even by 
 the most skilful hands, are wont to reproduce the defects 
 rather than the beauties of their original. The extracts here 
 
viii SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 printed are intended to relieve the monotony of a long list of 
 short notices of authors, and to illustrate the development of 
 the language and the progress of literary method ; they are, as 
 far as possible, characteristically Spanish in subject and, it is 
 hoped, of sufficient interest to induce readers to refer to the 
 books from which they are taken. The translations are literal 
 rather than literary, and are meant to assist beginners in 
 reading the extracts without the help of a dictionary. My aim 
 has been to stimulate inquiry rather than to satisfy it. I have 
 given brief outlines of well-known stories, such as that of the 
 Cid, in order that on opening the Ro?nancero del Ctd, or meet- 
 ing with an allusion to it, the reader may at once recognise 
 his whereabouts. 
 
 If the literature of a country forms an organic whole, all 
 divisions into periods must necessarily be somewhat arbitrary. 
 I have avoided them as much as possible. The short chapter 
 on the novel ranges from the fifteenth to the seventeenth 
 century, from the period preceding the Golden Age of Spanish 
 
 / literature to its decadence. As a mere aid to memory a 
 division into five periods may be adopted. [The first period 
 extends from the earliest documents in the language to the 
 beginning of the fifteenth century ; the second brings us down 
 to Garcilaso de la Vega; the Golden Age reaches from the 
 middle of the sixteenth century to the death of Calderdn ; it is 
 followed by a period of stagnation which prevailed until late in 
 
 \ the last century; the fifth period includes the last hundred years. 
 The eighteenth century has been passed over in a few pages 
 
PREFACE ix 
 
 fecause of the lack of originality in its colourless writings. Of 
 iontemporary authors few only have been mentioned, for the 
 Spanish literature of the present day cannot vie with that of 
 a more glorious age. 
 
 English booksellers are generally almost entirely ignorant 
 of Spanish books. Existing bibliographies are chiefly occupied 
 with the rare editions dear to collectors. It was my original 
 intention to give a select bibliography of all authors men- 
 tioned. Finding, however, that it took up too much space, 
 and was likely to confuse the beginner without satisfying the 
 student, I have merely appended a list of the cheap and 
 easily obtainable editions of the books best suited for a pre- 
 liminary course of Spanish reading. For help in its com- 
 pilation I beg to thank Senor Murillo of Madrid, the most 
 learned and courteous of Spanish booksellers. 
 
 A list of some of the principal writers on Spanish literature 
 is added for those who wish to continue the study of the 
 subject. 
 
 My best thanks are due to Miss Florence Freeman whose 
 help in revising proofs has been invaluable, to Mr. York- 
 Powell for advice and encouragement, and to other friends. 
 
 We have good reason to be proud of the illustrious 
 English-speaking men of letters who have devoted themselves 
 to Spanish subjects. Most of them, however, are primarily 
 though not exclusively students of Cervantes or Calderdn ; 
 it is to be hoped that, without neglecting the greatest writers, 
 some one will come forward to bring up our knowledge of 
 
SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 the more illustrious of their rivals to the same level of pi 
 tion. A large amount of treasures lie ready for him who 
 seek in the rich storehouses of our great libraries. I h. 
 recently discovered in the library of Wadham College, Oxfoi 
 a manuscript of parts of the works of Luis de Le6n, som 
 twenty years older than the first edition and containing some 
 interesting variants. 
 
 Writing in sight of the Spanish hills, with my memory full 
 of Spanish kindness, and the echo of the most stately of 
 languages still in my ears, I hope that the time is approaching 
 for a better understanding between my own country and what 
 was once the greatest, and is still the most chivalrous, nation 
 upon earth. If, by aiding the study of the ancient literature, 
 the present volume in any degree furthers this great end, its 
 author's purpose will have been amply fulfilled. 
 
 H. B. C. 
 
 St. Jean de Luz, 
 \st January 1893. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 i. Introduction ....... 
 
 2. Formation of the Spanish Language and Beginning of 
 
 Spanish Literature 
 
 3. Chronicles and Romances of Chivalry 
 
 4. The Ballads .... 
 
 5. Catalan Literature . 
 \ 6. Origin of the Drama . 
 
 I7. Poetry of the Fifteenth Century — Foreign Influences 70 
 
 ^J 8. The Novel ..... 
 9. Mystic and Religious Writers 
 
 10. History ...... 
 
 11. Religious and Secular Poets of the Golden Age — 
 
 Culteranismo .... 
 
 12. Didactic Works and Collection of Proverbs 
 
 13. Cervantes ..... 
 
 14. Lope de Vega ..... 
 
 15. Quevedo ..... 
 
 16. Calderon ..... 
 
 PAGE 
 I 
 
 IO 
 
 34 
 44 
 54 
 59 
 
 80 
 
 94 
 102 
 
 ii3 
 132 
 
 139 
 159 
 
 174 
 185 
 
xii SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 17. Other Dramatists of the Golden Age . . . 198 
 
 18. Epic and Narrative Poetry in the Sixteenth and 
 
 Seventeenth Centuries ..... 223 
 
 19. From the Beginning of the Eighteenth Century to the 
 
 War of Independence ..... 229 
 
 20. The First Half of the Nineteenth Century . . 240 
 
 21. Contemporary Literature ..... 252 
 
 Alphabetical Index of Authors and Editions recommended 
 
 for a Course of Spanish Reading . . .271 
 
 Alphabetical List of a Few of the Principal Authorities 
 
 on Spanish Literature ..... 278 
 
 Index ......... 281 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 Remarks o?i the History of Spain down to the Time of the 
 earliest Writers in the Vernacular. Local Distinctions of 
 Language and Character 
 
 Among the histories of the great nations of the world, it would 
 be difficult to find any one more characteristic and interesting 
 than that of Spain. Its interest, however, is romantic rather 
 than political or social ; it is the history of great individuals 
 and of great deeds rather than of corporate bodies and of 
 great ideas. In spite of the by no means unimportant part 
 taken by Spain in the struggle for liberty against oppressors 
 from within, her constitutional development has been irregular, 
 and her present position is far from satisfactory. But the 
 history of the Spanish municipalities, of the liberties of Aragdn 
 and of other provinces, of the war of the Comunidades (guilds) 
 in the sixteenth century, and of the bitter contest that marked 
 the beginning of the present century, affords sufficient proof of 
 her free spirit and of her sturdy independence. 
 
 Except during the centuries of the Roman occupation, and 
 the short and fictitiously brilliant period during which she 
 herself was the most powerful country in the world, Spain has, 
 as it were, stood apart from what have been at different times 
 
 b 
 
SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 the centres of civilisation. Her development and her success, 
 her struggles and her failures, have been the work of her own 
 sons j she has stood or fallen alone. To this may be attributed 
 the romantic charm which she has exercised, and continues to 
 exercise, over the minds of most of those to whom her history 
 and literature, her art and national characteristics, are familiar. 
 From the first the Western Land was a land of mystery, the 
 land from which came the gold, and of whose riches fabulous 
 accounts were given by the Phoenician and Greek traders whose 
 factories fringed her coasts. The interior remained unknown 
 to them, and beyond lay the great encircling ocean and the 
 Islands of the Blessed. 
 
 The Roman conquest here, as elsewhere, introduced order 
 amongst a host of contending elements, but it cost centuries to 
 carry it out. The north, the traditional mountain home of 
 Spanish liberty, was indeed never thoroughly subdued. In 
 other parts of the country repeated rebellions gave rise to 
 bloody and obstinately contested wars, which taught the con- 
 querors to respect the proud and warlike spirit of their subjects. 
 When resistance became hopeless, the Iberian and Celtic in- 
 habitants rapidly and thoroughly assimilated the language, laws, 
 and manners of the Romans. It is certain, however, that the 
 native languages were still spoken side by side with Latin. 
 Money with Celt-Iberian inscriptions was coined in the time of 
 Augustus, and Cicero mentions a Spanish tongue unintelligible 
 to the Romans ; but the thoroughness with which the central- 
 ising process was carried out is best proved by the list of 
 distinguished writers, natives of Spain, who contributed to the 
 Latin literature of the Silver Age. Quintilian, Martial, Lucan, 
 and Seneca, were Spaniards ; Latin names are borne by many of 
 the principal towns of the peninsula, and the gigantic public works 
 by which the Mistress of the World adorned and strengthened her 
 ^^ empire may still be seen in almost every part of the country. 
 Once pacified Spain rose rapidly to the position of one of 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 the most prosperous provinces of the Empire. The almost 
 incredible amount of wealth that flowed yearly from her mines 
 and fields to the Imperial treasury seems to have been in- 
 capable of exhausting her marvellous resources. Agriculture, 
 mining, manufactures, and commerce flourished ; Christianity 
 was introduced and spread rapidly. The last three centuries 
 of Roman rule are almost qualified to rank among the happy 
 class that have no history. 
 
 With the dismemberment of the Empire Spain shared the 
 fate of the other Roman provinces. Successive armies of con- 
 quering Teutonic tribes overran the land. Some of these 
 passed through on their way to Africa, as the Vandals who 
 have left their name in (V)andalucia. Others remained to 
 carve out for themselves an empire amongst a people which, 
 under the powerful protection of its former masters, had lost 
 the habit of carrying arms and, with it, the power of defending 
 its own independence. The numerical importance of the so- 
 called Gothic conquerors of Spain seems to have been as 
 greatly over-rated as their level of civilisation has been under- 
 rated. The bodies of aliens that settled in the country were 
 rather armies than tribes. For some generations they main- 
 tained their position as a conquering and privileged race by 
 means of laws forbidding intermarriage with their subjects. Of 
 Gothic blood there remains little trace in the present popula- 
 tion of the Peninsula. The Teutonic conquerors of Spain had, 
 for the most part, been for some time established in Gaul 
 before they crossed the Pyrenees, and they had adopted the 
 more civilised customs as well as the laws and language of the 
 people amongst whom they had settled. In Spain they have 
 not left a single Teutonic inscription or monument, and it is 
 doubtful if to them can be traced the origin of any of the few 
 Gothic words existing in the languages now spoken in the 
 Peninsula. The fuero juzgo, the so-called Gothic code of law, 
 is almost entirely Roman in character. 
 
SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 The government of the Gothic kings was feeble and sus- 
 picious. They acted on the system of weakening the subject 
 race, in order that they themselves might be proportionately 
 stronger. All their efforts were powerless to prevent their 
 absorption into the larger body of Celt-Iberian people. When, 
 in the eighth century, the Saracens arrived, they conquered the 
 whole country in a single battle, and at once parcelled it out 
 into a number of states owning a more or less nominal 
 allegiance to the Califs of Bagdad. Coming from the warm 
 southern countries, the Moors found the climate of the north 
 of Spain unsuited to them, and the mountainous region, in- 
 habited by rough and warlike shepherds, not worth the trouble 
 of conquest. Here, in the mountain fastnesses of Cantabria, 
 they left the germ of a hardy race that was fated in after times to 
 exact from their descendants a bitter retribution for the invasion 
 of its native land, and the subjection of its brethren. Almost 
 immediately after the Saracen conquest, the war of liberation 
 was begun by Pelayo's valiant band of refugees, sheltered in 
 the cave of Covadonga, around which centre so many of the 
 national traditions. After lasting for seven centuries, the 
 struggle ended only when the miserable remnant of the Moors 
 turned their backs on Granada, carrying with them to Africa 
 the keys of their houses as relics of their beloved homes in 
 Spain. 
 
 The rule of the Moors was by no means harsh. They found 
 in the south a population accustomed to subjection, and allowed 
 to it a considerable share in the administration of its own 
 affairs. Patriotic historians have endeavoured to show that 
 the Christians of the old stock persistently held aloof from 
 their conquerors, and looked upon them as enemies throughout. 
 This is far from being the truth. An ecclesiastical writer of 
 the ninth century l complains that his co - religionists in 
 
 1 Alvaro of Cordova. Indiculum Luminosum. Even Alvar Fanez, the 
 companion of the Cid, signed his name in Arabic characters. The large body 
 
INTRODUCTION 5 
 
 Andalucfa had so thoroughly adopted the Arabic tongue that 
 they were unable to follow the services of the Church in their 
 native Romance, but were capable of writing verse in the 
 language of their so-called oppressors. These Christians of the 
 south rose against the Moslems amongst whom they lived, only 
 when summoned by the trumpet-call from the north. When 
 freed by their more hardy compatriots, they were regarded by 
 them with some suspicion, and did not always escape the 
 opprobrious but well-deserved name of Cristianos nuevos (new 
 Christians). Until the thirteenth century, and even later, it is 
 by no means rare to find Christians fighting side by side with 
 Moors against their fellow-Christians. The spirit of religious I 
 and national intolerance originated outside Spain with the 
 Crusaders ; it was cultivated by the Church, and was carried 
 south by the early conquistadores. The sentiment expressed in 
 the lines of the ballad 
 
 1 Caballeros granadinos 
 Aunque moros hijosdalgo 
 
 probably belongs to a date when, after the completion of the re- 
 conquest, the attribution of noble qualities to the vanquished 
 became a means of glorifying the victor. 
 
 Of the civilisation and learning of the Moors very little 
 filtered through to the rough Christian soldiers whom they 
 successfully resisted when Islam was the common cause, but 
 to whom they afforded an easy prey when, as so often happened, 
 dissension prevailed amongst the Moslem states, or when single 
 states were torn by internal division. More than half the land 
 was already won back from the alien when, in the fourth century 
 of this great war, Spanish literature begins. 
 
 The re-conquest, the story of which forms the history of 
 
 of Spanish documents written in Arabic characters are known as Textos 
 Aljamiados ; see the excellent little book bearing this name, by Pablo Gil. 
 Zaragoza, 1888. 
 
 1 " Knights of Granada — though Moors, yet gentlemen." 
 
SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Spain during so many centuries, has left its lasting mark on the 
 / country. Those who won back the several provinces planted 
 respectively their native dialects in them. The Castilian lan- 
 guage, known to foreigners as Spanish, is spoken, with slight 
 local variations, throughout three-fourths of the country in- 
 cluded in the present boundaries of Spain. This tract is 
 roughly equivalent to the district won back by the descendants 
 of the refugees from the mountains of Asturias. Their language 
 is the language in which is written almost the whole of the 
 works that will come under consideration in the present volume; 
 and well does it deserve the title that has been bestowed upon 
 it of "noblest daughter of the Latin." For from Latin it 
 derives seven-tenths of its vocabulary, and the whole of its 
 syntax. Sonorous and cadenced more than other tongues, it is 
 peculiarly fitted for lofty verse and oratorical prose, yet in spite 
 of its grave and dignified character it can scarcely be equalled 
 \ for tenderness and pathos. Galicia keeps a dialect of its own, 
 closely resembling the Portuguese, but possessing little or no 
 literature. 1 In Catalonia a dialect of Provencal is still spoken, 
 but day by day it is adopting Castilian forms, in spite of the 
 efforts of a small number of writers to revive a literature in the 
 vernacular. In literature, as well as in ethnology and language, 
 the Catalans belong rather to Provence than to Spain. (See 
 chapter on Catalan Literature.) 
 
 Much misapprehension has been caused by regarding the 
 inhabitants of the Peninsula as one people. Only in a political 
 sense can they be properly so regarded. All general proposi- 
 tions about Spanish national character and customs must 
 necessarily be false or only partially true. It would be as vain 
 to seek a description which should apply equally to the national 
 characteristics of Scotch and Irish, as to attempt to include in 
 
 1 See p. 75. The best collection of modern Galician verse is contained in the 
 Cancionero Popular Gallego for lose" Perez Ballesteros con prdlogo de Tedfilo 
 Braga. Madrid, 1886. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 a single portrait the distinctive features of Asturian and 
 Andalucian. To those who believe in the influence of physical 
 environment upon national character this will be evident from 
 a glance at the map, or better still, by a visit to the country. 
 The climate and productions of Galicia, and parts of Asturias, 
 are not unlike those of the south-west of Ireland. In Murcia 
 is found an almost rainless region, producing the date, sugar- 
 cane, and rice, a region in which camels may be used as beasts 
 of burden under an African sky. The lofty table-land, inter- 
 sected by high mountain ranges, which forms almost the whole 
 of the interior of the Peninsula, is bare, and in great part tree- 
 less ; its bleak brown uplands are parched by bitter winds in 
 winter, and by a burning sun in summer, yet they produce 
 corn, wine, and oil in abundance, and are capable, with the 
 help of irrigation, of yielding the most delicious fruits and the 
 most brilliant flowers. 
 
 The inhabitants of this country vary as much as the 
 land in which they live. Brave, sober, honest, and persever- 
 ing, but somewhat heavy and slow-witted as compared with 
 his Andalucian cousin, the Asturian possesses in a marked 
 degree the qualities common to mountaineers. His pride lies 
 in his descent from the old stock, alike unconquered by Roman, 
 Goth, or Moor. Writers of all times have made him a subject for 
 good-natured ridicule on account of his claim to a long pedi- 
 gree, his habit of presuming on his nobility, and his extreme 
 poverty. Asturias now provides the men of letters, and, in 
 conjunction with Aragon, the lawyers of Spain ; almost all the 
 noble houses trace their origin to the 7nontaiia. 
 
 The Galician is somewhat similar to the Asturian ; in spite 
 of his large share of Celtic blood he is sluggish, and on the 
 Spanish stage he figures as the Auvergnat on the French stage. 
 He is a hewer of wood and a drawer of water, yet with a strong 
 vein of poetry underlying his rough exterior, and honest and 
 reliable withal. 
 
8 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 The Spaniard, with whose caricature the French and English 
 stage have made us familiar, the Spaniard of pictures and 
 painted fans, the man with the broad hat, red sash, and guitar, 
 is the Andalucian, the most picturesque and brightest figure of 
 the nation. Inhabiting a country in which the bounty of 
 nature has reduced the necessity for labour to a very slight 
 burden, the Andalucian has not been slow to take advantage 
 of her kindness, and to make the best of life. Passionate, gay, 
 communicative, and idle, the bulk of the population of this 
 lovely region lead, so far as it is possible for a large body of 
 ordinary human beings, a butterfly existence. In their blood, 
 as on their manners and mode of life, the Eastern conquerors 
 have left deep traces, without imparting to them anything of 
 the gravity of Orientals. Their virtues and vices alike spring 
 direct from the heart, and owe nothing either to moral training 
 or to deliberate depravity. 
 
 The qualities, good and bad, of the Catalan are of a com- 
 mercial and industrial kind ; he is the manufacturer of Spain, 
 and betrays his separate origin by possessing, only in a modi- 
 fied degree, the two qualities which make all genuine Spaniards 
 akin ; these are deep religious feeling in an exclusively Catholic 
 sense, and a lofty idea of personal dignity. 
 
 These two characteristics are particularly prominent in the 
 Castilians, and under this name may be included for our 
 present purpose the inhabitants of the country from Leon to 
 La Mancha, and from Extremadura to Aragon. These form 
 the backbone of the nation, the men who won back the country 
 from the Moors, the men who discovered and colonised so 
 large a part of America, and who once, as champions of the 
 Catholic Faith, overawed or overran the greater part of 
 civilised Europe. Noble and independent in bearing, they are 
 grave without stolidity, and courteous in manner even to 
 foreigners, in spite of their innate prejudices against strangers. 
 They are sober, laborious, and thrifty, yet neither inhospitable 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 nor sordid. The popular songs (see p. 267) which, at the present 
 day, have replaced the ballads of a more heroic age, show how 
 intense is their appreciation of the beautiful, and more particu- 
 larly of poetry. Their good qualities, alike with their defects, 
 have an old-world flavour that renders their possessors unfit 
 to excel in an inartistic, commercial, democratic, and sceptical 
 age. The charge of dishonesty and peculation that has been 
 so often brought against them is well founded only in so far 
 as it applies to public life. Years of misgovernment have made 
 corruption universal throughout the official classes, and from 
 the official world the commercial has taken its tone. But in 
 this respect, as in others, signs of improvement and progress 
 are now everywhere apparent, and haply the day is not far 
 distant when Spain will again take, amongst the nations of 
 Europe, the position which is hers by right, not only of glorious 
 traditions, but of noble and sterling qualities. 
 
 The pattern and type of Castilian character is Rodrigo or 
 Ruy Diaz de Bivar, the Cid, the hero in whom the popular 
 fancy has summed up the virtues that go to form the national 
 ideal. In the successive developments of his story and 
 character may be traced the strong lasting elements of this 
 ideal, as well as the weaker but no less chivalrous ones that 
 vary with varying circumstances. It was by such men and for 
 such men that a great part of the older Spanish literature was 
 created, and it is with the Cid's story that it begins. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 FORMATION OF THE SPANISH LANGUAGE AND BEGINNING OF 
 
 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 /For eight centuries after the abolition of Roman rule in 
 Spain, Latin continued in use as the written language employed 
 by native Spanish authors. A considerable number of im- 
 portant Latin works, mostly ecclesiastical, and written between 
 the fifth and twelfth centuries, has come down to us. But 
 these in no sense come under the heading of Spanish Litera- 
 ture. Between them and the earliest books in the vernacular 
 there is no continuity, nor can any development be traced 
 from the one to the other. The employment of the popular 
 speech for literary purposes marks an entirely new departure, 
 
 \ in which almost all the traditions of the past were cast aside. 
 An examination, therefore, of the Spanish-Latin literature does 
 not enter into the province of the present volume. 
 
 Equally little have we to do with the Arabic authors who 
 flourished in Spain at a time anterior to that of the earliest 
 Spanish writings. These brought with them from the East 
 their own literary and artistic traditions, and continued to 
 hand them down with oriental immutability. 1 The Arabic and 
 Spanish literature ran parallel for a time, but in distinctly 
 separate channels, and it is only in rare translations or 
 adaptations that their currents mingle. Each has its own 
 distinct ideals and methods. 
 
 1 See Schack, Poesla y Arte de los Arabes, trans. Juan Valera. Madrid, 1872. 
 
FORMATION OF SPANISH LANGUAGE n 
 
 Whilst educated men, despising the speech of the vulgar, 
 continued to write in literary Latin, Spanish was slowly 
 developing from the popular language which had been planted 
 in the country by the Roman legionaries, and is known as the 
 lingua romana rustica. Except in such books as the Ety- 
 mologies of St. Isidor of Seville, and in certain documents 
 written in a mixture of the two languages, we have but little 
 evidence as to how the change went on. But in the earliest 
 Spanish writings we find that a wonderful change has taken 
 place. The Spanish of the thirteenth century differs but little 
 from the Spanish of to-day. The old Latin vocabulary is here 
 almost complete, but supplemented by a large number of 
 Arabic words relating mostly to agriculture and to the new 
 arts and sciences brought from the East. The familiar Latin 
 words, however, have undergone a transformation. The case- 
 endings are gone, and their place has been taken by preposi- 
 tions : the Latin tonic o and e have become split up into ue 
 and ie respectively : h is rapidly taking the place of ,the Latin 
 initial/.- ct has changed into ch: t between vowels into d ; and 
 instead of the Latin initial pi, fl, cl, we find the peculiar 
 Spanish ll. 1 Some tenses of the verb have disappeared, and 
 their places have been filled by others, whose importance is 
 thereby greatly magnified. The Latin Future has suffered the 
 same fate as in France and Italy; it has been given 
 up, and in its place we have a new form constructed 
 with the Infinitive and the verb habere, which did not 
 become thoroughly welded together until the seventeenth 
 century. The whole structure of the sentence has been 
 vastly simplified, and a new instrument has been wrought 
 from the material of the old to express the new ideas of a 
 new age. 
 
 1 The date of the introduction of the characteristic harsh guttural sound 
 now represented by the Spanish / (g), and replacing the Latin j, g, x, Ij, cl, 
 is uncertain. Such evidence as is obtainable points to the sixteenth century. 
 
12 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 The earliest literary work in Spanish, which is probably at 
 the same time the earliest existing document in the language, 
 is the Poema de Myo Ctd, a short epic or c/mnson de geste of 
 about four thousand lines. Its beginning is lost, and it comes 
 to an end somewhat abruptly. Some critics have maintained 
 that it is an agglomeration of several distinct ballads. This 
 view is not confirmed by consideration of language or style, 
 but the arguments drawn from internal evidence and from the 
 lack of unity in its subject are strong enough to warrant it. 
 The name of its author and the place in which it was com- 
 posed are unknown ; the most probable conjecture as to its 
 date is that it belongs to the latter half of the twelfth century, 
 and, consequently, was written about a century and a half 
 after the death of its hero. The language of the poem is rude 
 and uncouth, a language struggling into existence. The 
 versification is barbarous and irregular ; the normal lines are 
 of fourteen syllables, with a strong caesura after the eighth ; 
 many, however, fall short of this limit, and many exceed it ; 
 the same rhyme, more or less correct, is employed until 
 exhausted, when another takes its place. I The subject of the 
 poem is the exile of My Cid ; 1 his campaign against the Moors 
 of Alcocer ; his victory over the Count of Barcelona ; his con- 
 quest of Valencia ; his reconciliation with the king who had 
 treated him with so much ingratitude; the marriage of his 
 daughters with the Counts of Carrion, and the vengeance 
 exacted by the Cid for the ill-treatment received by them at 
 the hands of their husbands. That these verses were at one 
 time recited by wandering minstrels is proved by the last lines 
 which contain the request — 
 
 2 Dal nos del vino si non tenedes dineros. 
 
 1 For an outline of the traditional history of the Cid, see the chapter on the 
 Ballads. In the Poema, Rodrigo de Bivar is generally called " My Cid," or 
 " he who was born in a happy hour " {el que en buen hora fud nado). 
 
 2 " Give us wine if ye have no money." 
 
BEGINNING OF SPANISH LITERATURE 13 
 
 Apart from its value as the earliest monument of the 
 language which, in after times, was to spread over so large a 
 part of the earth, the Poema is worthy of attention and admira- 
 tion by reason of its heroic simplicity, its rapid movement, the 
 life-like pictures it presents of the turbulent times in which it 
 was composed, and the free and light-hearted spirit which it 
 breathes throughout. Here is chivalry indeed, without the 
 false and sickly sentimentality with which it was corrupted 
 in a later age. The Cid's notions of honour, nay, even of 4 
 honesty, are somewhat hazy and not over refined, but, such as 
 they are, he puts them into practice ; he is a good husband 
 and a good father, brave, loyal, and disinterested. The hero 
 of the poem is also a scrupulously devout son of the Church l 
 and a patriot, though it is more than doubtful whether the Cid 
 of history could establish a claim to these virtues as nowadays 
 understood. One of the most characteristic and animated 
 passages, and one that has been most often quoted, is the 
 description of how the Cid rescues his banner when in danger 
 of falling into the hands of the Moors through the rashness of 
 his standard-bearer, Pero Vermuez (lines 715-732). It runs 
 as follows : — 
 
 2 Enbra9an los escudos delant los coracones, 
 Abaxan las lancas abuestas de los pendones, 
 Enclinaron las caras de suso de los arzones. 
 Yuan los ferir de fuertes coracones. 
 A grandes vozes lama el que en buen hora nasco ; 
 " Ferid los, caualleros, por amor de caridad : 
 Yo so Rruy Diaz el Cid Campeador de Biuar ! " 
 Todos fieren en el az do esta Pero Vermuez. 
 
 1 Cf. the curious references to auguries and other superstitious observances 
 in which the poem abounds. 
 
 2 "They clasp their shields before their hearts ; — their lances are levelled 
 with pennants decked : — their heads they bent low over the saddle ; — to 
 smite them they went with valiant hearts. — Loudly calls he who was born in 
 happy hour, — 'Strike them my knights for love of charity — I am Ruy Diaz 
 the Cid Campeador of Bivar ! ' — One and all shower blows on the band 
 
1 4 SPANISH LITER A TURE ' „ * 
 
 Treszientas lancas son, todos tienen pendones. 
 
 Senos moros mataron, todos de senos colpes ; 
 
 A la tornada que fazen otros tantos son. 
 
 Veriedes tantas lancas premer e alcar, 
 
 Tanta adagara foradar e passar, 
 
 Tanta loriga falssa desmanchar, 
 
 Tantos pendones blancos salir vermeios en sangre, 
 
 Tantos buenos cauallos sin sos duenos andar ; 
 
 Los moros laman Mafomat, los cristianos Sant Yague, 
 
 Cayen en un poco de logar moros muertos mill eCCC ya. 
 
 Two other very ancient compositions treat of the exploits 
 of the favourite national hero. The first of these, the Latin 
 Chronicle, gives practically the same version of the story as 
 that found in the General Chro?iicle (see p. 21), and may 
 either have been the source from which the General Chronicle 
 drew its information, or have been itself compiled from this 
 great work of Alfonso the Wise. The Rhymed Chronicle, the 
 second of the two, has been supposed by some to be older 
 than the Poema. The Latin Chronicle is written in most 
 barbarous language, and in verses of irregular length ; its 
 contents are of little interest, nor does it properly come under 
 the heading of Spanish literature. Not so the C?vnica Rimada. 
 Less spirited in tone than the Poema, it deserves attention at 
 the hands of the student of popular traditions, showing as it 
 does how rapidly a real personality may be surrounded by 
 myths of the most extravagant kind, until at last it becomes 
 almost impossible to distinguish between the purely fictitious 
 part and the real facts which so powerfully impressed the 
 popular imagination. In it we find the germ of almost all the 
 
 round Pero Vermuez. — Three hundred lances are they, each with its pennant 
 decked. — A Moor apiece they killed, each with a single blow, — and when 
 they wheeled about they slew as many more. — There might one see many 
 lances rise and sink again, — many a shield pierced and thrust through, — 
 many a corselet burst and broken — many a white pennant come forth red in 
 blood, — many a good horse run free without a master. — The Moors call on 
 Mahomet, the Christians on St. Yague — in but a little space a thousand and 
 three hundred Moors are slain." 
 
BEGINNING OF SPANISH LITERATURE 15 
 
 Cid ballads of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, such as 
 the story of Count Lozano, of the Cid's marriage, and of his 
 expedition to France and victory over the twelve peers ; even 
 the Pope himself is forced to submit to the overbearing 
 insolence of the Castilian freebooter. The fact that the Pope 
 in question was probably unacquainted even with his 
 name, and that the Cid apparently never left his native 
 land, would weigh but little with the author of such a 
 composition. 
 
 As Spanish literature begins appropriately with a poem 
 celebrating heroic deeds, so it continues with a body of 
 religious verse, thus giving, as it were, a clue to the two sides 
 of the national character. The question of priority of date 
 among these pious compositions, known under the general 
 name of poemas de clerecia (clerkly poems), is a disputed one ; 
 it is, however, unimportant. On the whole, preference may 
 be given to the Mystery of the Magian Kings, a miracle-play 
 of a type common in the middle ages, and interesting only for 
 its bearing on the early history of the Drama (see p. 59). A 
 manuscript of the thirteenth century, now in the library of the 
 Escurial, contains three poems of which the authors, like their 
 predecessors, are unknown to us by name. These are the 
 Book of Apollo nuts King of Tyre, the Life of Saint Mary the 
 Egyptian, and the Adoration of the Three Holy Kings. Drawn 
 from sources such as the Gesta Romanorum and the Lives of 
 the Saints, which were the common property of mediaeval 
 writers, these and the later religious poems are interesting 
 chiefly as showing the development of language and versifica- 
 tion. In them first appears the cuaderna via, a system of 
 metre consisting of lines of fourteen syllables, divided into 
 stanzas of four lines, all ending with the same rhyme (see 
 extract, p. 33). This verse is extremely artificial and stiff, 
 but it seems to have pleased the popular taste, as it continued 
 in use for two centuries. 
 
1 6 SPANISH LITER A TURE 
 
 The Life of Saint Mary the Egyptian sometimes rises 
 slightly above the prosaic tone general throughout these 
 compositions. The repentant sinner who was afterwards to 
 become a saint thus addresses the Virgin, contrasting the 
 saintly life of her patroness with her own : — 
 
 1 Creyo bien en mi creyencia 
 
 Que Dios fue en tu nascencia, 
 i . . . . 
 
 Virgo, reina, creyo por ti 
 
 Que si al tu fijo rogares por mi, 
 
 Si tu pides aqueste don, 
 
 Bien sse que haure perdon. . . . 
 
 • • ■ 
 
 Un nombre havemos yo e ti 
 Mas mucho eres tu luenye de mi ; 
 Tu Maria e yo Maria, 
 Mas non tenemos amas huna via. 
 
 Here, and in the Mystery of the Magian Kings, we have the 
 earliest examples of the eight-syllable lines, which constitute 
 the most popular Spanish metre ; the system of rhyme, however, 
 is wholly unlike that which was used later, and gives an 
 entirely different character to the verses (see p. 44). 
 
 Passing by the Disputation between the Body a?id the Soul 
 which may easily be paralleled, both as to form and matter, in 
 the earlier literature of most European countries, we come to 
 the first Castilian poet whose name and date we know. 
 
 Gonzalo de Berceo flourished during the first half of the 
 thirteenth century. A clerk of the monastery of San Millan, 
 near Calahorra, he devoted the whole of his voluminous 
 writings to religious subjects, using the cuaderna via to relate 
 the lives of several saints, the Miracles of Our Lady, the 
 
 1 *' Firmly I hold to my belief — that God Himself in thy birth took part, 
 — O Virgin Queen, I believe that for thy sake, — if to thy Son thou shouldst 
 pray for me, — if thou shouldst ask Him this boon, — certain it is I should 
 obtain pardon. — One name we share both thou and I, — but thou art far 
 removed from me ; — I am Mary and thou art Mary — but widely different 
 are our ways." 
 
 i 
 
BEGINNING OF SPANISH LITERATURE 17 
 
 Sacrifice of the Mass, the Virgin's Lament, and other works 
 of a like character. He is the first who makes use of the 
 mester de clerecia (clerkly verse), a more artificial and correct 
 style of writing as compared with the free and barbarous mester 
 de yoglaria (minstrel's verse) of earlier times and popular use ; 
 Berceo speaks of his writings as dictados (poems), to distinguish 
 them from the minstrel's cantares (lays), but his verse is not 
 worthy of the name of poetry ; it is generally simply rhymed 
 prose, and, if here and there he for a moment rises to a slightly 
 higher level, he quickly falls back into his usual tameness. 
 
 Three more poems must be mentioned before we come to 
 the earliest Spanish prose and to the great works of Alfonso 
 el Sabio. Though posterior in point of time to the founder of 
 Castilian prose, they do not share in the vast improvements in 
 style and literary method that originated with the " Wise " or 
 rather " Learned " King, who lacked so entirely the practical 
 wisdom known to his countrymen as grama tica parda (gray 
 grammar). 
 
 Juan Lorenzo Segura devoted his poetical talents to the 
 glorification of a personage so far removed in time and place 
 from himself and his native land as Alexander the Great. His 
 hero, however, though he bears this famous name, and per- 
 forms many of the impossible exploits popularly ascribed in the 
 Middle Ages to the Macedonian conqueror, is not only a Spaniard, 
 but a Spanish paladin of the period in which the author wrote. 
 In so far as Segura departs from genuine history, and from the 
 tradition of the writers of the French fabliaux, his work is 
 interesting. Alexander is not unworthy of attention when he 
 hears mass, and visits the depths of the ocean. 
 
 The Libro de Iusuf is an early specimen of aljamia, or Cas- N 
 tilian, written in Arabic characters, and interspersed with Arabic 
 words and expressions. This version of the story of Joseph, 
 the son of Jacob, differs in important particulars from the 
 Biblical narrative. Its interest is chiefly antiquarian and 
 
 c 
 
1 8 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 philological. Though ascribed by some critics to a much 
 later date, the circumstance that it is written in cuaderna via 
 (see p. 15) forms of itself a strong presumption that it belongs 
 
 \ to a comparatively early age. 
 
 The Poem of Feman-Go?izalez, the famous count of Castile, 
 is national both in subject and in form • but in spite of this, and 
 in spite of the fact that it contains the earliest version of some 
 beautiful legends concerning the foundation of the kingdom of 
 Castile, the tameness and monotony of its style greatly lessen 
 its interest. 
 
 This series of diffuse and prosaic poems would* be hardly 
 worth the attention of the student of literature were it not fo* 
 the quaint details in which some of them abound, and for the 
 opportunity here and there afforded of feeling deep down below 
 their formal surface the throb of the pulse of a great nation, 
 which was still too deeply engaged in the struggle that was to 
 furnish a theme for the poetry of a later date to devote its 
 time and attention to literary pursuits. It is with a feeling of 
 relief that one hurries on, passing over several minor names, 
 to the first author of real importance. [A giant as compared 
 with his contemporaries in intellectual matters, and possessing 
 also the virtues of a more civilised state of society, Alfonso is 
 the first to win a place among Spanish authors above that 
 occupied by the rude gleeman who wrote the Poema del CtdJ^ 
 
 y With the formation of Spanish prose two names are specially 
 connected. Both belong to royal persons. Alfonso el Sabio 
 was uncle to the Infante t)on Juan Manuel. As eldest son of 
 San Fernando the Conqueror, he succeeded- to the throne of 
 Castile in 1252. Unfitted by his scholarly tastes for the stirring 
 life around him, his life was a long series of misfortunes. The 
 monarch who at one time had claimed the title of Emperor, 
 and who was actually elected, though his election was after- 
 wards annulled, found himself, towards the end of his life, in 
 the humiliating position of being forced to pledge his crown, 
 
BEGINNING OF SPANISH LITERATURE 19 
 
 and seek the protection of the Moslem king of Fez against the 
 violence of his turbulent subjects led by his own son. The 
 most important legacy left by him to posterity consists of his 
 legal works ; he excelled, however, in every branch of know- 
 ledge as then understood, and in each was in advance of his 
 agej Even before his accession he took part in the transla- 
 tion of the Fuerojuzgo (Forum Judicum), the code promulgated 
 by San Fernando for the government of those of his subjects 
 who were streaming southward to settle in the districts of 
 Andalucia recently won back from the Moors. ' His greatest 
 work is another code, called, from its division into seven parts, 
 Las Siete Partidas. It became the groundwork for all subse- 
 quent legislation in Spain, and was carried by the Spaniards 
 to the New World, where traces of its influence may still 
 be found.! Alfonso, on his accession, found the inherent 
 difficulty of governing his restless and warlike subjects con- 
 siderably increased by local privileges and customary rights 
 that had been formally granted to, or had sprung up spontane- 
 ously among, the settlers who took possession of the land 
 conquered by his father. He attempted to reduce these 
 conflicting elements to uniformity, and his scheme for the 
 government of the newly-acquired territory is seen in his great 
 work on legislation, i The Siete Partidas are not a mere col- 
 lection of laws expressed in technical language ; they are rather 
 treatises on moral and political philosophy, giving proof of 
 broad and liberal views rare even in a more enlightened age. 
 The nature of justice is discussed, and the right of driving out 
 tyrants is recognised. Many also are the quaint passages in 
 which the writer, departing from the tone and province of a 
 jurist, condescends to discuss such details of private life as the 
 duties of the governesses of princesses. 
 
 Connected with the first really great name in Spanish litera- 
 ture is a large body of verse, some of which is undoubtedly 
 spurious. The Tesoro, a very obscure treatise on the trans- 
 
20 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 mutation of metals, part of which is written in prose, un- 
 doubtedly belongs to the period of Alfonso the Wise, but it is 
 unlikely that the king who in the Partidas spoke severely of 
 the Alchemists as engamiadores (cheats) should have himself 
 pursued their studies, and written upon the methods of their 
 art. The authenticity of the book of Cdntigas e Loores de 
 Nuestra Seiiora is scarcely disputed, but no really satisfactory 
 explanation is given of the fact that Alfonso, who wrote his 
 prose works and some of his poetry in Castilian, here made 
 use of the Galician dialect (see p. 75), and ordered his hymns 
 to be used in the Cathedral of Murcia, where they would be 
 scarcely intelligible. The collection comprises about four hun- 
 dred lyrics of a high order of merit, in a variety of metres, most 
 of which the author probably learned from the Provencal poets 
 who came to his court. Many well-known legends are here 
 related, and among them the beautiful one of the nun, the 
 portress of her convent, who, under strong temptation, escaped 
 from the cloister, and for some time led a vicious life ; on her 
 return, repentant and fearful of punishment, she finds that her 
 absence has passed unnoticed, for the Virgin herself, taking 
 pity on one who had ever been her special devotee, has 
 assumed her appearance and fulfilled her duties during her 
 absence. A pathetic interest attaches to the poems known as 
 the Querellas (Complaints) of King Don Alfonso, but their 
 authenticity has been doubted. They are simple and noble in 
 tone, and may well have been written by the king himself, if 
 we may judge by the feeling with which they describe his 
 misfortunes. The following passage may serve as a specimen 
 of the Querellas, and also as an example of the versos de arte 
 mayor, a metrical form which was at this time coming into 
 
 use : — 
 
 1 A ti Diego Perez Sarmiento, leal 
 Cormano e amigo e firme vasallo, 
 
 1 " To thee Diego Perez Sarmiento the loyal — brother and friend and vassal 
 
BEGINNING OF SPANISH LITERATURE 21 
 
 Lo que a mios omes de coita les callo 
 Entiendo dezir planniendo mi mal . . . 
 Como yaz solo el rey de Castiella 
 Emperador de Alemania que foe 
 Aquel que los reyes besaban el pie, 
 E reynas piden limosna e manciella ; 
 Aquel que de auxilio mantuvo en Sevilla 
 Diez mil de a caball y tres dobles peones ; 
 Aquel que acatado en lejanas naciones 
 Fue por sus Tablas e por su cuchilla. 
 
 During the reign and under the immediate superintendence 
 of the Wise King, if not by his own hand, were written two 
 great chronicles. This form of literature had already been 
 cultivated in Spain, as is shown by the Crbnicas of Lucas de 
 Tuy and the Historia Gbtica of the learned Rodrigo Jimenez 
 de Rada, who flourished during the first half of the thirteenth 
 century. The Estoria de Espanna and the Gra?ide e general 
 Estoria, however, mark a distinct improvement in language, 
 style, and historical criticism. The former begins with the 
 Deluge, and brings the narrative down to the time of San 
 Fernando. The latter part is extremely interesting, for the 
 author is here describing events with which he is familiar, 
 either as an actual eyewitness, or from traditions and ballads 
 like those of the Cid and Pelayo. The Grande e ge?ieral 
 Estoria is, as its name implies, a universal history. It is the 
 first work of its kind written in the vulgar tongue ; the amount 
 of research and learning it displays is extraordinary when we 
 consider the age in which it was produced, but it is less 
 
 true — That which for very grief I hide from my household — now would I tell 
 and mourn for my ills . . . How the king of Castile lies all alone — Emperor, 
 once of Germany — whose foot kings kissed — and queens sought from him alms 
 and favour : — he who to guard him maintained at Seville — Ten thousand horse 
 and three hosts of foot : — he who amongst far distant peoples — Gained rever- 
 ence by his Tables* and his sword." 
 
 * ' 
 
 The " Tables " here mentioned are the Tablas Alfonsinas, an astronomical 
 work celebrated throughout the Middle Ages, and still a subject of wonder to men of 
 science. 
 
22 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 interesting than the Estoria de Espanna, for, beginning as it 
 does with the Creation and ending with the first preaching of 
 Christianity, its facts are drawn from the Bible and from other 
 sources of which we are better able to judge than was its 
 authof. The style of both these works is simple and dignified, 
 often quaintly pathetic, and bearing traces of the melancholy 
 which misfortune had made a part of the Wise King's character. 
 A good idea of it may be gained from the chapter called the 
 Praises of Spain {Los bienes que tiene Espa?ma\ a. subject that 
 earlier still had inspired beautiful passages in the writings of 
 St. Isidor and the Arab El Makkari. The following is an 
 extract from this poetical yet scarcely exaggerated description 
 of the Peninsula : — 
 
 1 Pues esta Espafia que deximos tal es como el parayso de Dios : ca rie- 
 gase con cinco rios cabdales que son Duero ed Ebro e Tajo e Guadalquevir 
 e Guadiana : e cada uno dellos tiene entre si e el otro grandes montanas e 
 tierras : e los valles e los llanos son grandes e anchos : e por la bondad de 
 la tierra y el humor de los rios llevan muchas frutas e son abondados. 
 Otrosi en Espafia la mayor parte se riega con arroyos e de fuentes ; e nunca 
 le menguan pozos en cada logar que los han menester. E otrosi Espafia 
 es bien abondada de mieses e delectosa de frutas, valiosa de pescados, sab- 
 rosa de leche e de todas las cosas que se de ella facen, e llena de venados e 
 de caza, cubierta de ganados, locana de cavallos, provechosa de mulos e de 
 mulas, e segura e abastecida de castiellos, alegre por buenos vinos, folgada 
 de abondamiento de pan, rica de metales de plomo e de estano, e de argen 
 vivo e de fierro e de arambre e de plata e de oro e de piedras preciosas, 
 
 1 " Now this land of Spain of which we spake is like unto the paradise of 
 God : for it is watered by five full-flowing rivers, and these are Duero and 
 Ebro and Tajo and Guadalquevir and Guadiana : and each hath betwixt it 
 and its neighbour mighty mountains and lands : and the valleys and the plains 
 are great and broad : and by reason of the goodness of the soil and the mois- 
 ture of the rivers they bring forth much food and are fruitful. Moreover of 
 Spain the greater part is watered by brooks and fountains : and wells are 
 never lacking in every place that hath need of them. And moreover Spain 
 abounds in crops of corn, in delicious fruits, in precious fishes, in sweet milk, 
 and all such things as are made from it ; the deer roam far and wide, the 
 flocks cover the earth, and the stately horses. The land is rich in mules, 
 secure and well lurnishcd with strong places, joyful with good wines, satisfied 
 with abundance of bread, rich in metals, in lead, in tin, in quicksilver and in 
 iron, in brass and silver, in gold and precious stones and in all kinds of 
 
 / 
 
BEGINNING OF SPANISH LITERATURE 23 
 
 e de toda raanera de piedra marmol, e de sales de mar, e de salinas de 
 tierra, e de sal en penas e de otros veneros muchos . . . de quantos se 
 fallan en otras tierras. Briosa de sirgo, e de cuanto se falla de dulzor de 
 miel e de azucar, alumbrada de cera, alumbrada de olio, alegre de azafran. 
 E Espana sobre todas las cosas es engeiiosa e aun temida e mucho esforzada 
 en lid, ligera en afan, leal al Sefior, afirmada en el estudio, palanciana en 
 palabra, complida en todo bien : e non ha tierra en el mundo quel semeje 
 en bondad, nin se yguala ninguna a ella en fortaleza, e pocas ha en el 
 mundotan grandes como ella E sobre todas Espana es abondada en gran- 
 deza ; mas que todas preciada por lealtad ; O Espana ! non ha ninguno 
 que pueda contar tu bien. 
 
 During the latter part of the thirteenth century prose 
 authors became more numerous. Their works may be divided 
 roughly into two classes : didactic or moral treatises and 
 collections of fables. These two categories, as will be seen 
 from the examples mentioned below, frequently overlap. 
 Among the most important books of the former class must be 
 counted the Setenario of Alfonso the Wise, a treatise on the 
 seven branches of learning, comprising the trivio, Grammar, 
 Rhetoric, and Logic, and the cuatrivio, Music, Astronomy, 
 Physics, and Metaphysics. The Castigos y Documentos (Warnings 
 and Injunctions) of Don Sancho el Bravo, the son of Alfonso el 
 Sabio, is a book of considerable learning drawn chiefly from 
 the Bible, the early Christian writers, and some of the Latin 
 classics. To the latter class — the fables — belong Engannos e 
 Assaya?nientos de las Mogieres (The Deceits and Tricks of 
 Women) and Calila e Dimna, fables translated directly from 
 Eastern sources, as well as the collection known under the odd 
 
 marble, in salt of the sea and salt from the earth, salt in mountains and many 
 other veins of metal . . . nay as many as are found in other lands. Her 
 silk is her pride, and sweetest of honey and of sugar ; her wax gives her light 
 and her oil gives her light, and the saffron gladdens her heart. And Spain, 
 more than other lands, is cunning, yea and feared, and very mighty in battle, 
 light-hearted in toil, loyal to her Lord, grounded in learning, courteous of 
 speech and filled with all good things : and there is no land in all the world 
 like unto her in goodness, none that is her equal in valour and few of all the 
 world so great as she. And more than all others is she great and powerful, 
 more than all others is she leal and true. O Spain, who is there that can tell 
 thy praises?" 
 
24 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 name of Libro de los Gatos (Book of the Cats). Most of the 
 books of this class are by unknown authors. 
 
 The second great Spanish prose writer, the Infante Don 
 Juan Manuel, contributed to both of the two above-mentioned 
 classes. Though playing a considerable part in the political 
 troubles of his time as a turbulent and ambitious leader, he 
 found time to compose a number of books, of which he gives 
 a list in the introduction to the best known of his works, the 
 Conde Ltccanor, Libro de los Enxemplos, or Libro de Patro?iio 
 as it is variously called. This is a book of fables consisting of 
 fifty-one stories of varying length, some Oriental, some taken 
 from ^Esop, others local in character or derived from the 
 common stock of traditions and legends of the Middle Ages. 
 A good example of the style and character of the work is the 
 Story of what happened to a Dean of Santiago with Don Llldn 
 the great Magician who dwelt at Toledo. A certain dean of 
 Santiago wishes to learn the black art, and is attracted to 
 Toledo by the fame of the magician Don Illan. He is 
 hospitably entertained and explains his errand, making at the 
 same time many promises of gratitude for the instruction he 
 wishes to receive. The magician takes him to his under- 
 ground study, having first ordered supper to be prepared. 
 While the two are discussing, messengers enter and inform the 
 dean that his uncle, the archbishop, is ill ; a few days later, 
 news comes that the archbishop is dead, and, presently, the 
 dean is elected in his stead. The magician now begs the 
 deanery for a relation of his own, but the new archbishop 
 refuses the request. The two now set out for Santiago, where 
 fresh honours are showered upon the former dean. On the 
 occasion of each promotion Don Illan renews his demand to 
 be allowed to share in his pupil's good fortune. Each time he 
 meets with a rebuff. Finally the dean becomes Pope, and 
 when his former instructor ventures to remind him of his 
 promise he threatens to proceed against him as a heretic and 
 
BEGINNING OF SPANISH LITERATURE 25 
 
 enchanter, and dismisses him from Rome without even giving 
 him the money necessary for his return to Toledo. Don Ulan 
 retorts by declaring that, as His Holiness will not give him 
 food, he must needs return to the supper which was ordered 
 when the instruction began. The dean now wakes up to find 
 he has had a practical lesson in magic, having been himself 
 bewitched. All his honours are merely the illusions of an 
 enchanted dream. In order to punish him for his ingratitude, 
 Don Ulan dismisses him without even asking him to remain 
 to sup. The moral is contained in the quaint couplet — 
 
 1 Al que mucho ayudares, et non te lo gradesciere, 
 Menos ayuda kabrris, desque & grant honra subiere. 
 
 This story, like all the rest of the collection, is supposed 
 to be told by Patronio the consejero (councillor) to Count 
 Lucanor, his patron, who has asked advice as to his conduct 
 with regard to a neighbour who has besought his aid, after 
 having already on one occasion played him false in point of 
 gratitude. The tendency of all the stories is distinctly moral, 
 and Don Juan Manuel carries out fully the purpose which he 
 expresses in his preface in the following words : — 
 
 2 Este libro fizo don Johan, fijo del muy noble infante don Manuel, 
 deseando que los homes feciesen en este mundo tales obras que les fuesen 
 aprovichamiento de las honras et de las faciendas et de sus estados, et fuesen 
 mas allegados a la carrera porque pudiesen salvar las animas. Et puso en 
 el los enxemplos mas aprovechosos que el sopo de las cosas que acaescieron, 
 porque los homes puedan facer esto que dicho es. Et sera maravilla si de 
 cualquier cosa que acaezca a cualquier home, non fallare en este libro su 
 
 1 ' ' He who shows no gratitude for great benefits, will show still less when 
 exalted to great honours." 
 
 2 ' ' This book was composed by Don Johan son of the very noble prince 
 Don Manuel, in the desire that men should do in this world such deeds as 
 might be profitable to their reputations and affairs and estates, and might 
 more closely follow such courses as should enable them to save their souls. 
 And he placed in it the most profitable examples that he knew of things that 
 have happened, so that men may do as has already been set forth. And it 
 will be strange should any matter befall any person of such a kind that he 
 
5 
 
 26 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 semejanza que acaescio a otro. . . . Et por las menguas que en sus libros 
 fallaren no pongan la culpa a su entencion, mas ponganla a la mengua de 
 su entendimiento porque se atrevio a se entremeter et fablar en tales cosas. 
 Pero Dios sabe que lo fizo por intention que se aprovechasen de lo quel 
 diria a l las gentes que non fuesen muy letrados nin muy sabidores. Et 
 por ende fizo todos los sus libros en romance ; et esto es serial cierto que los 
 fizo para los legos et de non muy grand saber, que non fuesen para leerlos. 
 Et daqui comienza el prologo del Libro de los Enxemplos del conde 
 Lucanor et de Patronio, et el prologo comienza asi. 
 
 Among the purely didactic works of Don Juan Manuel 
 we may cite the Book of the Knight and of the Squire, relating 
 in quaint and straightforward language the instruction in 
 knightly virtues and graces given by a hermit, who had himself 
 followed the profession of arms, to an aspirant to fame in a 
 similar direction. Especially unfortunate is the loss of a Book 
 of Songs, which the author himself tells us he composed and 
 laid up with his other works in the monastery of Pefianel, 
 which he founded. The works of Don Juan Manuel are more 
 than a mere literary curiosity : they mark a distinct progress in 
 the development of the language, and it is to be regretted that 
 his successors did not copy more closely the even and lucid 
 style which lends a charm to these quaintly picturesque books 
 that so well illustrate the aspirations and ideals cherished by 
 the loftier spirits of the turbulent times among which their 
 author's lot was cast. 
 
 cannot find in this book something like it that happened to another. . . . 
 And for the defects that may be found in his books let the blame be given, 
 not to the purpose he had in view, but to his want of wit, for that he made 
 bold to meddle and speak of such matters. But God knows that he did it 
 purposing that what he said might be profitable to such people as were not very 
 learned nor very wise. And for this cause he made all his books in Romance, 2 
 which is a clear sign that he made them for the unlearned who would not 
 (otherwise) be able to read them. And henceforth begins the prologue of the 
 Book of Examples of the Count Lucanor and of Patronio, and the prologue 
 begins thus." 
 
 1 The text appears to be wrong here. Either d or the preceding se must 
 be omitted. 
 
 2 Spanish is frequently called Romance by the older writers. 
 
BEGINNING OF SPANISH LITERATURE 27 
 
 Juan Ruiz, best known under the title of Archpriest of 
 Hita, was born about the end of the thirteenth century in the 
 neighbourhood of Madrid, which at that time was a mere 
 village resorted to occasionally by the kings of Castile for 
 hunting. We know little of his life except that which he tells 
 us in his poems or Libro de Cantares, a collection of verse of 
 about seven thousand lines, and the most original work of all 
 the earlier period of Spanish literature. In it the Archpriest 
 relates with the greatest vivacity and frankness, coupled only 
 too frequently with the grossest indecency and profanity, the 
 history of his love-adventures among the shepherd-folk and 
 convents in the neighbourhood of his native place. His more 
 than irregular life seems to have brought him into well- 
 deserved trouble with his ecclesiastical superiors, and we know 
 that he was for some time imprisoned in Toledo. In spite of 
 their many blemishes his writings are very valuable as a 
 curiously minute and highly-coloured picture of the manners 
 of the time ; they have, moreover, distinct literary merit ; the 
 author possesses an inexhaustible fund of imagination, and 
 handles the heavy cuaderna via with a freedom and fluency 
 unknown elsewhere. As a story-teller he is unsurpassed, and ' 
 he gives fresh point to the many fables which, as he himself 
 admits, he drew from Latin sources. About eight hundred 
 lines of the cantares are taken up with the spirited allegorical 
 account of the Battle between Sir Carnival and Lady Lent, 
 well known in early French. In the spring the Archpriest 
 receives from the hand ot Don Ayuno (Sir Fasting) letters 
 from Santa Quaresma (Saint Lent) bidding him send a 
 challenge in her name to Don Carnal (Sir Carnival), who for a 
 year has been lording it far and wide. Don Carnal accepts 
 the challenge and comes forth to battle with a noble array of 
 capon, partridge, rabbit, bacon, beef, and hams. Their arms 
 are copper cooking-pots, their shields are saucepans ; on their 
 side fight the wild boar, the stag, and the hare. This goodly 
 
28 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 company, after a sumptuous banquet, is surprised at midnight 
 by Dona Cuaresma accompanied by champions such as the 
 tunny, the sardine, and the red lobster. After a desperate 
 struggle the troops of Don Carnal are defeated, he himself is 
 condemned to be imprisoned, whilst his allies, Lady Sausage 
 and Sir Bacon, meet the harder fate of hanging. Don Carnal 
 is visited in the prison, where he lies wounded and in evil case, 
 by a confessor who brings him to a state of repentance. As 
 he recovers his strength, however, Don Carnal's penitence 
 disappears, and on Palm Sunday he escapes from church and 
 communicates with his partisans, Sir Breakfast and Lady 
 Lunch. He is now joined by a powerful ally, Don Amor, and 
 the rebellion against the harsh rule of Dona Cuaresma breaks 
 out on Easter Eve. The latter part of the poem describes the 
 triumphant reception given by their subjects to Don Carnal 
 and Don Amor on their return from captivity. 
 
 The book of Cantares ends with the death of Trota- 
 Conventos, the Archpriest's go-between, and the conversion of 
 her master from the error of his ways by a nun to whom 
 he has made love. Throughout his more than questionable 
 writings the vagabond priest stoutly maintains that his purpose 
 \ is a moral one, and here and there he introduces edifying 
 religious disquisitions and hymns, sometimes of great beauty 
 and deep devotional feeling. If, however, his intentions were 
 good, his way of carrying them out is the more extraordinary, 
 for, as Menendez y Pelayo says, he most effectually concealed 
 this ulterior purpose sotto il velame degli vers/ strani. He is 
 the first writer in Castilian of the short lyric pieces, common 
 in Provencal poetry, that describe the charms of shepherd-girls 
 or milkmaids, and are consequently called Serranillas or 
 Vaqueiras} We are indebted to him for a very curious 
 Student's Song for asking Alms, that serves to illustrate the 
 condition of Spanish universities in the Middle Ages. 
 
 1 For a specimen of this kind of composition, see extract, p. 74. 
 
BEGINNING OF SPANISH LITERATURE 29 
 
 A writer of truly moral tendency is the Rabbi Don Sem 
 Tob, who, as he tells us, was a Jew of Carrion. His book of 
 maxims, many of which are derived from the Bible and the 
 writings of Oriental moralists, is interesting in the extreme. 
 His tone is manly and his standard high ; it is curious that he 
 was bold enough to address his teaching to Don Pedro the 
 Cruel, whose humane treatment of the Jews provoked so much 
 dissatisfaction among his Christian subjects. The seven- 
 syllable lines in which he writes are graceful and well adapted 
 to his subject, the treatment of which may be judged from the 
 following extracts : — 
 
 1 A tu algo non tocas 
 Si non de liencos gruesos 
 Algunas varas pocas 
 Para enboluer tus huesos. 
 
 Honbre, tu te querellas 
 Quando lo que te plase 
 Non se cumple, y rreuellas 
 A Dios porque non fase 
 Todo lo que tu quieres, 
 Y andas muy yrado ; 
 I Non te membras que eres 
 De vil cosa criado ? 
 
 • • • • 
 
 Por nascer en espino 
 La rrosa, yo non syento 
 Que pierde, nin el buen vino 
 Por salir del sarmiento. 
 
 Nyn vale el acor menos 
 Por que en vil nido syga. 
 Nin los enxemplos buenos 
 Por que judio los diga. 
 
 1 "Of thy goods thou touchest nought, — except of coarse cloth — some few 
 ells — which envelope thy bones. . . . Man thou complainest — when that 
 which pleaseth thee — comes not to pass, and rebellest — against God because 
 he does not — all that thou wouldst, — and walkest in anger. — Rememberest 
 thou not that thou art — of vile matter created ? . . . 
 
 ' ' For that it springs from the thorny shrub — the rose, to my mind, — is not 
 the worse ; nor good wine — for coming from the wine-stock ; — neither is the 
 falcon less precious — for that it abides in a foul nest, — nor wise admonitions — 
 because they come from the mouth of a Jew." 
 
30 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 For the last time in early Spanish poetry the free and 
 martial spirit that inspired the Poem of My Cid is to be found 
 in passages of the Poem of Alfonso XT., discovered in 1573 by 
 Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, and supposed at first to be the 
 work of the champion whose victories it celebrates. Internal 
 evidence, however, shows conclusively that its author was 
 Rodrigo Yafiez, who fought by Alfonso's side at the great battle 
 of Salado which forms the central point of the poem and of the 
 reign which the poem describes. Yafiez is the first to use 
 eight - syllable lines for the purpose of epic narrative ; his 
 system of rhyming every alternate line renders the metre 
 tedious in his long rhymed chronicle, which rises to the level 
 of poetry only in descriptions of battles like the following : — 
 
 1 Los moros perdian tierra 
 Et por el monte sobian, 
 Por el medio de la sierra 
 Ondas de sangre corrian. 
 Aquesto vio el rey moro, 
 Mas quisiera la su fin, 
 El dio voces como un toro 
 Llamando j Benamarin ! 
 
 • • • » 
 
 Llamando iba ; Espanna ! 
 El rrey don Alonso, el bueno : 
 Assy rronpio la montanna 
 Como la piedra del trueno. 
 
 ■ • ■ ■ 
 
 Cobiertos eran los puertos 
 Fasta las aguas del mar : 
 Atantos eran los muertos 
 Que siempre avria que contar. 
 
 1 " The Moors were losing ground, — up the hill they were flying — in the 
 midst of the mountains — streams of blood were flowing. — When the Moorish 
 King saw this, — rather had he seen his end, — he roared aloud as does a bull — 
 shouting, Benamarin ! Shouting his war-cry, Spain ! — the king Don Alonso 
 the bold — burst upon the mountain — as a bolt from a thundercloud — . . . 
 The passes were covered with dead — down to the shores of the sea — So many 
 
BEGINNING OF SPANISH LITERATURE 31 
 
 Desian ; ; que buen sennor ! 
 Et i que noble caballero ! 
 ; Val Dios, que buen lidiador ! 
 ; Val Dios, que real bracero ! 
 
 The popular imagination of the Middle Ages created a 
 fantastic allegory, known in France as the Dance Macabre^ in 
 which Death is represented as calling upon persons of all ages 
 and all classes of society to join his gruesome revels. This 
 subject was thoroughly suited to the grotesque and morbid 
 taste of the period that preceded the Renaissance, and found 
 favour equally with painters and with poets. A version of it 
 appears in Spanish literature under the name of the Danza de 
 la Muerte, in which the weirdness and horror of the subject are 
 treated with great animation, and the interest is sustained by 
 graphic touches and fluent verse. 
 
 At the end of the fourteenth century the influence of Proven- 
 cal and Italian became strong, to the great detriment of Castilian 
 poetry. There belongs, however, to this period one writer 
 of note who followed the national traditions, and is therefore 
 included in the present chapter. Pero Lopez de Ayala was a 
 nobleman and courtier who lived during the reigns of Pedro L, 
 Enrique II., and Juan I. Subsequently he was a member of 
 the council appointed to administer the kingdom during the 
 minority of Enrique III., under whom he rose to the dignity 
 of Chancellor. Notwithstanding his lofty position he had some 
 experience of the vicissitudes of life, being twice a prisoner of 
 war, once in Portugal after the battle of Aljubarrota, and once 
 in England after the battle of Najera, in which he fought on 
 
 were the slain — that one might count for ever — . . . They said, How good a 
 king — and noble knight is he ! — Great God, how mighty in battle ! — Great 
 God, how royally he smites ! " * 
 
 t The above extract is composed of stanzas 1691, 1715, 1776, 1771 of the poem. They 
 were selected for the purpose of illustration, together with others, by the late Don 
 Francisco Sanchez de Castro, Professor of Literature at Madrid. I have altered some of 
 the lines to the better readings of the edition of the Autores Espaiioles. 
 
32 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 the side of Enrique de Trastamara. He wrote, as official 
 chronicler, the history of his own times, with more detail and 
 colouring than was usual with his predecessors (see p. 35) ; he 
 translated, moreover, Boccaccio's Fall of Princes, and other 
 Italian books, as well as some parts of Livy. But the work by 
 which he is best known is the Rimado de Palacio, or Libro de 
 Palacio, a poem of about four thousand lines. The body of 
 the poem is written in cuaderna via, but the estrofa de arte 
 mayor is also occasionally used. The hymns and songs with 
 which it is interspersed are in lines of eight syllables. After 
 the introduction comes a version and explanation of the ten 
 commandments, then follows the Seven Mortal Sins and the 
 Seven Works of Mercy, the Five Senses and the Seven Spiritual 
 Works. The poem now assumes a more secular tone, and 
 speaks of the administration of the state, of war and of justice, 
 with elaborate and amusing satires on merchants, lawyers, and 
 tax-gatherers ; after a long prayer we find the Fechos del Palacio 
 (Affairs of the Palace) followed by chapters of Advice to ah 
 Men, Admonitions for the Government of the Republic, and the 
 Nine Matters by which the Power of the King may be recognised. 
 Prayers, hymns — often of considerable beauty — and moral 
 lessons, supported by examples taken from the Bible, form the 
 second and larger half of the book, which is interesting chiefly 
 as a study of the social state of the country by a native, at 
 the time of the stirring events for which Ayala's and Froissart's 
 Chronicles form the principal authorities. Throughout this 
 curious mixture of religious fervour and worldly wisdom runs 
 a strong vein of satire. He who had seen so much of 
 palaces and courts speaks thus of them in his old age : — 
 
 1 Grant tiempo de mi vida pase mal despendiendo, 
 A sennores terrenales con grant cura syrviendo, 
 
 1 "A great part of my life I badly spent and wasted, — serving with all 
 diligence the lords of the earth ; — now do I see and am come to the under- 
 
BEGINNING OF SPANISH LITERATURE 33 
 
 Agora ya lo veo e lo vo entendiendo, 
 Que quien y mas trabaja mas yra perdiendo. 
 Las cortes de los reyes 1 quien las podra pensar ? 
 Quanto mal e trabajo el omne ha de pasar, 
 Perigros en el cuerpo e el alma condenar, 
 Los bienes e el algo siempre lo aventurar. 
 Si mill annos las syrvo e un di'a fallesco, 
 Disen que muchos males e penas les meresco. 
 Si por ellos en cuytas e cuydados padesco 
 Disen que como nescio por mi culpa peresco. 
 Si por yr a mi casa licencia les demando, 
 Despues a la tornada, nin se como nin cuando, 
 Fallo mundo rebuelto, trastornado mi vando^ 
 E mas frio que nieve en su palacio ando. 
 Fallo porteros nueuos, que nunca conosci, 
 Que todo el palacio quieren tener por sy : 
 Sy llego a la puerta disen 1 Quien esta y ? 
 Sennores digo, yo, que en mal dia nascy. 
 
 standing — that he who labours more in this will have the heavier loss. — Who 
 can imagine the courts of kings ? — All the suffering and labour that must be 
 endured, — danger to the body and damnation to the soul, — goods and estate 
 ever at stake. — If for a thousand years I serve, and one day come to die, — 
 they say I have deserved harsh treatment and chastisement at their hands. — 
 If for their sake I suffer grief and care, — they say I am a fool and my undoing 
 is self-sought. — If I ask of them permission to visit my house, — when, after- 
 wards, I return, even as it may hap, — I find affairs have changed, my influence 
 broken up, — and colder than snow is my position in the palace. — New cham- 
 berlains I find, who are unknown to me, — who would have all the palace to 
 themselves : — If I come to the gate, they cry out, 'Who is there?' — 'Good 
 Sirs,' say I, ' 'Tis I born in an unhappy hour.' ..." 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 CHRONICLES AND ROMANCES OF CHIVALRY 
 
 In the Partidas of Alfonso the Wise (see p. 19) it is enjoined 
 
 upon knights that they should listen, whilst at table, to the 
 
 reading of the " histories of the great deeds of arms that others 
 
 did." These are the chronicles, throughout which the personal 
 
 greatly outweighs the political or the social element. Alfonso 
 
 himself carefully brought down the history of his country to his 
 
 own time. In spite of this good example and the noble model 
 
 thereby furnished, many years were allowed to pass after his 
 
 death before the history of his reign and that of the two 
 
 succeeding ones was written. The account, moreover, of this 
 
 period that has come down to us is probably untrustworthy, for 
 
 the chronicler has, either willingly or of necessity, falsified the 
 
 true aspect of affairs in order to palliate the undutiful conduct 
 
 of the successor and other sons of the unfortunate Sage. The 
 
 office of chronicler was, after Alfonso's time, regularly exercised 
 
 by persons appointed by successive kings. These succeed one 
 
 another without a break down to the reign of Fernando and 
 
 Isabel, in which Hernando del Pulgar (the secretary, see p. 
 
 38), two years before the taking of Granada, abruptly closes 
 
 his account of the stirring events of which he himself was an 
 
 eye-witness. Even later, chroniclers were regularly appointed, 
 
 but the slender merits of this class of writings are such as are 
 
 possible only in an unsophisticated age ; the " historiographi " 
 
CHRONICLES AND ROMANCES OF CHIVALRY 35 
 
 of the seventeenth century are historians rather than 
 chroniclers. 
 
 Few of the official chronicles deserve mention as literary 
 works ; they are generally merely bald relations of events 
 and notable feats of arms, or, at most, are interspersed with 
 inflated and improbable speeches modelled on those of the 
 classical historians. The best are those of the reigns of Don 
 Pedro the Cruel and his three immediate successors, composed 
 by Lopez de Ayala, the author of the Rimado de Palacio, and 
 that of Don Juan II., part of which is attributed to the court 
 poet, Juan de Mena (see p. 75). The latter has been rated by 
 competent authority as second only to certain of the Romances 
 of Chivalry among the best ancient models of Castilian prose. 
 
 The following passage taken from the chronicle of Don Juan 
 II., and describing the death of Don Alvaro de Luna, affords 
 a fair specimen cf the best narrative style of the period, and is 
 not unworthy of its great central figure : — 
 
 1 E otro dia muy en amanesciendo, oyo misa muy devotamente e rescibio 
 el cuerpo de Nuestro Senor, e demando que le diesen alguna cosa que 
 beviese, e traxeronle un plato de guindas, de las cuales comio muy pocas e 
 bevio una taza de vino puro. E despues que esto fue hecho, cavalgo en 
 una mula, e Diego Destuniga e muchos caballeros que le acompanaban, e 
 iban los pregoneros pregonando en altas voces : " Esta es la justicia que 
 manda hacer el Rey nuestro Sefior a este cruel tirano y usurpador de la 
 corona real : en pena de sus maldades mandale degollar por ello." E asi 
 lo llevaron por la cal de Francos, e por la Costanilla, hasta que llegaron a 
 la plaza donde estaba hecho un cadahalso alto de madera ; e todavia los 
 Frayles iban juntos con el, esforzandole que muriese con Dios ; e desque 
 
 1 ' ' And on the next day so soon as it was dawn he heard mass very devoutly, 
 and received the Body of Our Lord, and bid them give him something to 
 drink ; and they brought him a dish of plums of which he ate but few and 
 drank a cup of unmixed wine. And after this was done, he mounted on a 
 mule, as also did Diego Destuniga and many gentlemen that bore him com- 
 pany ; and the criers went proclaiming loudly ' This is the justice that the 
 King our lord commands to be done upon this cruel tyrant and usurper of 
 the kingly crown : in punishment of his wickedness he commands that his 
 throat be cut.' And thus they led him through the street of the Franks and 
 up the Hillside until they came unto the market-place where was raised a lofty 
 scaffold of wood ; and ever the Friars walked by his side exhorting him to die 
 
36 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 llego al cadahalso, hizieronle descavalgar, e desque subio encima, vido un 
 tapete tendido, e una cruz delante, e ciertas antorchas encendidas, e un 
 garavato de fierro fincado en un madero ; e luego fined las rodillas e adoro 
 la cruz, e despues levantose en pie, y paseose dos veces por el cadahalso. 
 E alii el Maestre did a un page suyo llamado Morales, a quien habia dado 
 la mula al tiempo que descavalgo, una sortija de sellar que en la mano 
 llevaba, e un sombrero, e le dixo : " Toma el postrimero bien que de mi 
 puedes recibir," el cual lo recibio con muy gran llanto. Y en la plaza y en 
 las ventanas habia infinitas gentes que habian venido de todos los lugares 
 de aquella comarca a ver aquel acto : los cuales desque vieron al Maestre 
 andar paseando comenzaron de hacer muy gran llanto ; e todavia los Frayles 
 estaban juntos con el diciendole que no se acordase de su gran estado e 
 seiiorio e muriese como buen christiano. El les respondio que asi lo hacia, 
 e que fuesen ciertos que en la fe parescia a los Santos Martires. E hablando 
 en estas cosas, alzo los ojos e vido a Barrasa, caballerizo del Principe e 
 llamole e dixole: " Ven aca, Barrasa ; tu estas aqui mirando la muerte que 
 me dan ; yo te ruego que digas al Principe mi seiior que de mejor gualardon 
 a sus criados quel Rey, mi senor, mando dar a mi." E ya el verdugo 
 sacaba un cordel para le atar las manos, e el Maestre le pregunto : "£ Que 
 quieres hacer ?" El verdugo le dixo : " Quiero, Seiior, ataros las manos con 
 este cordel." El Maestre le dixo : " No hagas asi," e diciendole esto quitose 
 una cintilla de los pechos, e diogela, e dixole : " Atame con esta, e yo te 
 
 reconciled to God ; so when he reached the scaffold they made him dismount, 
 and when he was come up upon it, he beheld a carpet spread and a cross 
 before his eyes and certain torches alight and an iron hook fixed in a beam ; 
 and straightway he knelt him down and made obeisance to the cross and rose 
 again to his feet and paced twice across the scaffold. And there the Master 
 gave to one of his pages named Morales, the same to whom he had given the 
 mule when he dismounted, a signet -ring that he wore on his hand, and a hat, 
 and said to him 'Take the last favour that thou canst receive of me,' and he 
 received it with much weeping. And in the market-place and in the windows 
 were much people that had come from all the hamlets of that district to see 
 the deed done : and these when they saw the Master pace up and down, began 
 to wail aloud ; and ever the Friars were at his side bidding him not to remem- 
 ber his great estate and lordship but to die as a good Christian. And he 
 answered them that even thus he was doing, assuring them that his faith was 
 like to that of the Holy Martyrs. And speaking still of these matters he 
 raised his eyes and beheld Barrasa, the equerry of the prince, and he called to 
 him and said : ' Come hither, Barrasa : thou art here looking on at my death : 
 I beg thee that thou bid the Prince my lord that he give unto his servants a 
 better reward than the King my lord hath commanded to be given to me.' 
 And already the headsman was drawing forth a cord to bind his hands, and 
 the Master asked him ' What wouldst thou do ? ' And the headsman said 
 ' Sir, I would bind your hands with this cord.' The Master said to him ' Do 
 not thus,' and as he said this, he took off a ribbon from his breast and gave 
 it to him and said * Bind me with this ; and I beg thee to see that thou 
 
CHRONICLES AND ROMANCES OF CHIVALRY 37 
 
 ruego que mires si traes buen punal afilado, porque prestamente me des- 
 paches." Otrosi le dixo : " Dime : aquel garavato que esta en aquel madero 
 I para que esta alii puesto ? " El verdugo le dixo que era para que despues 
 que fuese degollado, pusiesen alii su cabeza. El Maestre dixo : " Despues 
 que yo fuere degollado, hagan del cuerpo y de la cabeza lo que querran." 
 Y esto hecho, comenzo a desabrocharse el collar del jubon, e aderezarse la 
 ropa que traia vestida, que era larga, de chamelote azul, forrada en raposos 
 ferreros ; e como el Maestre fue tendido en el estrado, luego llego a el el 
 verdugo e demandole perdon, e diole paz, e paso el punal por su garganta 
 e cortole la cabeza, e pusola en el garavato. Y estuvo la cabeza alii nueve 
 dias, y el cuerpo tres dias ; e puso un bacin de plata a la cabecera donde el 
 Maestre estaba degollado, para que alii echasen el dinero los que quisiesen 
 dar limosna para con que le enterrasen : Y en aquel bacin fue echado asaz 
 dinero. 
 
 The close relation existing between the chronicles and 
 ballads may be studied by comparing the passages in which 
 they severally treat of the incidents connected with the death 
 of Don Alvaro de Luna, or in their respective accounts of 
 Bernardo del Carpio and of the Cid. 
 
 More interesting from an artistic point of view than the 
 official chronicles, though still falling within the province of 
 the antiquary rather than that of the student of literature, are 
 the chronicles of particular events and persons. One of the 
 earliest is that of the Cid. This chronicle is probably founded 
 on the Estoria de Espanna of Alfonso el Sabio, which furnishes 
 the earliest version of the legendary stories of Bernardo del 
 Carpio (see p. 46) and of the Siete Infantes de Lara (Seven 
 
 bearest a dagger well-sharpened so that thou rid me the sooner. ' Moreover he 
 said to him ' Tell me, the hook that is in that beam, wherefore is it there 
 placed ? ' The headsman told him that it was in order that his head might 
 be placed thereupon after that his throat were cut. The Master said ' When 
 my throat is cut, let them do with the body and the head as they will. ' And when 
 he had said this he began to unfasten the collar of his doublet and to make 
 ready the robes that he wore and these were long, of blue camlet lined with 
 russet fox-skins ; and when the Master had laid him down on the scaffold the 
 headsman straightway drew near and begged his forgiveness, and kissed him, 
 and thrust the dagger through his neck, and cut off his head, and placed it on 
 the hook. And the head remained there nine days and the body three days ; 
 and he placed a silver basin at the place where lay the head of the Master when 
 his throat was cut, that into it such as would give an alms for his burial might 
 cast it ; and into that basin was cast much money." 
 
V 
 
 38 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Princes of Lara), as well as the germs of almost all the myths 
 that so rapidly obscured the personality of the Conqueror of 
 Valencia. 
 
 Among the more graphic and picturesque of these chronicles 
 of particular persons must be cited that of Don Pero Nino, 
 who died in 1453, and whose manifold adventures, both in 
 Europe and on the coasts of Northern Africa, are recorded by 
 his alferez or standard-bearer, Gutierre Diez de Games. Its 
 description of the life of a nobleman and soldier both in public 
 and in private is strikingly realistic. One of the most curious 
 passages of the book is that which tells the story of the 
 Count's roving expedition to England, in which he appears to 
 have carried out most successfully his purpose of plundering 
 the southern coast. The chapter also on " How the English 
 differ from and are opposed to all other Christian nations " 
 is interesting to those concerned. The rugged and quaint style 
 of the faithful man-at-arms lends additional colour to the 
 exploits of his beloved leader. 
 
 The Chronicle of Don Alvaro de Lima was evidently written 
 by some one who bore him a deep affection and knew him well. 
 This circumstance gives a pathetic interest and singular charm 
 to the tragic history of this really great and, in some respects, 
 noble and generous man ; for Alvaro de Luna^s reputation has 
 probably suffered greatly from the fact that his history was 
 written after his fall. 
 
 The last of the chronicles of great men is that of Gonzalo 
 de Cordova, the Great Captain, a short history of whom was 
 written by his fellow-soldier and admirer Hernan Perez del 
 Pulgar, who must not be confounded with the official chronicler 
 of the same name. The soldier is distinguished by the 
 honourable title of El de las Hazafias (He of the Exploits) and 
 he it was who, during the siege of Granada, entered the city 
 and nailed, the Ave Maria to the door of the great mosque — 
 a deed commemorated by certain privileges conferred on him 
 
CHRONICLES AND ROMANCES OF CHIVALRY 39 
 
 at the taking of the city, and enjoyed by his descendants to 
 
 this day. 
 
 Other curious works of the fifteenth century are the 
 Chronicle of the Paso Honroso and the Iti?ierary of Ruy 
 Gonzalez de Clavijo, who went on an embassy to Samarcand 
 in 1403 to carry presents from Enrique III., King of Castile, 
 to the famous Timur Beg. His account of his adventures was 
 published in the fifteenth century under the odd title of Life of 
 the great Tamorldn. The former book recounts with minute 
 detail what is probably the greatest passage of arms of a purely 
 chivalrous character on record. It took place in 1434. We 
 are told how Suero de Quinones, a famous knight, had made 
 a vow to wear for the love of his lady an iron chain on every 
 Thursday, and how, grown weary of his vow, he accepts as the 
 condition of release from it an engagement to keep the bridge 
 of Orbigo with certain companions for thirty days against all 
 comers. In this enterprise he and his nine companions 
 prove successful, tilting many times with seventy-eight knights 
 and breaking many lances. The Chronicle of the Paso Honroso 
 is scarcely a literary work, but giving in plain and simple 
 language the account of an eye-witness of this extraordinary 
 event, it helps us to realise how, to those who knew such 
 things to have taken place in their own time, the extravagant 
 absurdities of the Romances of Chivalry would not be so 
 entirely incredible as to preclude interest. So popular were 
 the Chronicles that imagination was drawn upon for facts 
 which were however usually associated with some famous 
 name. Examples of fabulous histories such as these are the 
 Chronicle of Don Rodrigo and the Destruction of Spain, in which 
 fact and fancy are inextricably mingled, and historical person- 
 ages are found side by side with others of a purely mythical 
 character. The Crbnica Troyana gives an account of the 
 Trojan war materially different from that of Homer. In both 
 of these books the principal parts are played by knights-errant 
 
40 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 of the most accomplished type of the libros de caballerias. 
 From heroes of this character to the Amadises and Palmerines 
 the transition is short and natural. 
 
 The Romances of Chivalry, though not peculiar to the 
 country, attained, like the chronicles and ballads, an extra- 
 ordinary popularity and development in Spain during the 
 fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. They probably owe their 
 origin to the taste for chronicles. Imagination stepped in to 
 supply the place of history, and real persons and events paled 
 before its fantastic creations and their superhuman adventures. 
 To men who were familiar with the many absurdities that 
 sprang from the codes of chivalry, the typical knight-errant of 
 fiction was scarcely an extravagant character. Urganda the 
 Unknown and the rest of the tribe of enchanters are indis- 
 pensable when, as often happens, the exuberant fancy of authors 
 brings the heroes into situations from which nothing less than 
 supernatural intervention can release them. When once a 
 taste for such literature had been created, and when, through 
 the invention of printing, it reached a lower class of society, 
 it is scarcely to be wondered at that imagination, unchecked 
 by knowledge of foreign countries, of history, and of the 
 physical laws that govern the universe, ran riot. Authors 
 attempted to surpass one another in the wild improbability 
 of the exploits of their heroes, and the result is a cold and 
 repulsive picture in which sickly sentimentality has taken the 
 place of chivalrous love, and the invariable successes of the 
 heroes effectually stamp out the spark of interest that may 
 have been kindled by the harrowing tales of their dangers and 
 difficulties. Well might Juan de Valdes regret the ten years 
 that he spent in reading " these lying fables " (mentiras). 
 Happily one only of the books of this class calls for special 
 mention. 
 
 The French romances of chivalry, the earliest of which 
 date from the thirteenth century, may be divided into two 
 
CHRONICLES AND ROMANCES OF CHIVALRY 41 
 
 classes : those connected with the legend of Charles the Great, 
 and those connected with the legend of King Arthur and the 
 Round Table. Both of these legendary stories have some 
 shadow of historical foundation. Not so the earlier Spanish 
 romances, which deal with purely imaginary personages, though 
 their authors were no doubt familiar with the French and 
 Celtic legends. The first Romance of Chivalry printed in 
 Spain (Tirant lo Blanch) is written in the Valencian dialect, 
 thus marking the foreign origin of the class. 
 
 The source of the Amadis de Gaula, the first and best of 
 these books in Castilian, is somewhat uncertain. In its 
 present form it is a translation, made by Ordonez de Montalvo 
 about the end of the fifteenth century, of the now lost work of 
 Vasco de Lobeyra, a Portuguese who lived about a hundred 
 years earlier. Whether the Amadis of Lobeyra was an original 
 work or not we cannot know, but it is beyond doubt that some 
 form of the Amadis story existed still earlier in Spain, for 
 Lopez de Ayala, the author of the Rimado de Palacio (see 
 p. 31), who died at an advanced age in 1407, says, speaking of 
 his youth, that he " wasted much time in listening to the false 
 and vain stories of Amadis and Lancelot." However this may 
 be, Amadis deserves more than the negative praise bestowed 
 upon him by Cervantes, the avowed enemy of his innumerable 
 tribe. In the famous scrutiny of Don Quixote's books the 
 priest, speaking with the book in his hand, says, " This was the 
 first book of chivalry printed in Spain and deserves condemna- 
 tion to the flames as the propagandist of so evil a sect." — " No," 
 says the barber, " for I have also heard say that it is the best of 
 all the books of the kind that have been composed, and thus it 
 should be pardoned on account of its unique position." — " True," 
 says the priest, "and for that reason its life is spared for the 
 present." The learned author of The Dialogue on Languages 
 (see p. 135), and Torcuato Tasso, regarded the Amadis from 
 very different points of view, yet they agree in praising it in no 
 
42 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 measured terms : the former says it should be read by all who 
 wish to learn Spanish ; the latter, that it is the most beautiful 
 and perhaps the most profitable story of its kind that can be 
 read. This praise is well deserved. Throughout the book 
 the interest is fairly sustained ; it contains a real plot, and is no 
 mere rambling series of adventures ; the characters are admir- 
 ably drawn, and it abounds in passages of true feeling. The 
 chronology and geography are wild in the extreme, yet they 
 are enough for the purposes of a book the object of which is 
 to represent the perfect knight, loyal and true, tender and 
 brave. The events are supposed to happen "between the 
 time of the founding of Christianity and the time of King 
 Arthur." The scene is mostly laid in England. "Gaula" 
 is undoubtedly Wales ; Windsor and Bristol are mentioned ; but 
 no attempt is made by the author to represent the manners 
 of a definite bygone time or of foreign lands. The principal 
 personages of the story are Amadis, his lady Oriana, his 
 brother Galaor, and his father Perion, but the host of minor 
 characters who throng the pages are well and clearly drawn. 
 The subject is the loves of Amadis and Oriana, and the troubles 
 and trials through which they have to pass before they are at 
 last happily married. The supernatural is made use of to a 
 large extent, but not so as to diminish the interest of the 
 story. Amadis is really a hero and not, like his descendants, 
 a feeble creature bolstered up by enchanters. 
 
 Little or none of this praise can be bestowed on the 
 imitations and successors of this most famous and popular 
 book ; " the goodness of the father must not stand the sons in 
 stead," says Cervantes, and he is right. Each of them, be- 
 ginning with the Sergas de Esplandidn written by Montalvo 
 himself, is worse than the last. The earlier editions of these 
 romances are much prized by book-collectors on account of 
 their rarity, but they are seldom read. Florisando, Lisuarte, 
 Amadis of Greece, Florisel, Felixmarte, and Primaleon, differ 
 
CHRONICLES AND ROMANCES OF CHIVALRY 43 
 
 only in the size of the giants they slay and the degree of 
 improbability of their colourless adventures and loves. It 
 is hard to understand the extravagant praise bestowed by 
 Cervantes on the Palmerin of E?igland, of which he makes a 
 notable exception ; unless indeed his words are ironical. So 
 popular was this form of fiction, until Don Quixote slew the 
 monster at a single blow, that it was used for the purpose of 
 religious allegory in such books as the Celestial Chivalry and 
 the Conqueror of Heaven. It is evident that when the knight 
 of La Mancha smote these feeble creatures they were already 
 on the point of a natural death from inanition. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE BALLADS 
 
 The Spanish word romance, which in earlier times signified the 
 vernacular as opposed to Latin, has come to be restricted in 
 meaning to short heroic poems or ballads of a particular form 
 and to the metre in which they are composed. The romances 
 are written in lines which may be regarded as consisting either 
 of eight syllables with rhyme only in every second line, or of 
 sixteen syllables with a strong caesura after the eighth and 
 with continuous rhyme. The analogy of the other octosyllabic 
 metres, so popular with Castilian authors, and the invariable 
 practice of earlier writers, go to favour the former view, in spite 
 of the arguments brought forward by critics of authority on the 
 other side. The system of rhyme common to all the ballads 
 is called aso?iante ; it existed in the old French cha?isons till 
 displaced by full rhyme in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. 
 Account is taken of the vowels only that bear and follow the 
 last tonic accent in the line. Vowels should be identical in 
 the syllables rhymed, but custom sanctions the rhyming of 
 diphthongs containing the strong vowels tf, e, o, with these 
 vowels standing alone. Thus halla?ido is assonant to cristianos ; 
 decia to la villa ; y sefior to prometib ; cambio to marcos ; van to 
 dar. Such a system of rhyme is possible only in a language 
 in which the vowels are as strongly marked and as pure as 
 they are in Spanish. The same asonante is frequently made 
 use of throughout a whole ballad. To foreign ears this, the 
 
THE BALLADS 45 
 
 most popular of Spanish metres (see observations on popular 
 poetry, p. 268), is not always at first agreeable ; but when once 
 familiar, the rhythmical beat of the vowels will usually be pre- 
 ferred to the jingle of rhyme in ballads and dramatic dialogue 
 (see p. 167), for as Juan de Valdes truly remarks, "the per-, 
 fection of Castilian verse consists in its similarity to prose." 
 
 Some of the earliest extant ballads are apparently rhymed 
 versions of the chronicles, whilst some of the chronicles are 
 prose versions of the ballads. In other instances both have 
 probably been drawn from some common source. This form 
 of composition is very easy in Spanish, and about two thousand 
 ballads of widely different dates go to form the great collection 
 known as the Romancero General. Many of these, especially 
 the oldest ones, possess great beauty and interest, but they 
 are often, unfortunately, much degraded from their original 
 simplicity, partly by the wearing-down process undergone in 
 passing from mouth to mouth during centuries, and partly by 
 arbitrary alterations and additions, and the so-called improve- 
 ments introduced by those who collected and wrote them down 
 in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. At first the ballads 
 were to the ignorant what the chronicles were to the more 
 educated : they related the great deeds of national heroes, 
 historical or fabulous ; they furnished examples of valour and 
 piety, and celebrated the legends of saints so dear to the 
 popular imagination. That they were recited in public is 
 certain. Alfonso the Wise speaks of the jug/ares, the gleemen, 
 who are roughly divided into two classes : those who wrote or 
 composed the ballads (Jug/ares depeiiola), and those who recited 
 them (Jug/ares de boca). Later on frequent mention is made 
 of these more picturesque and dignified predecessors of the 
 blind-men {ciegos) who have nowadays inherited their functions. 
 The earliest printed romances appear in the Cancionero General 
 of 15 1 1. These are anonymous, and it is not until the middle 
 of the sixteenth century that in the early Romanceros (ballad- 
 
 V 
 
46 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 books) ballads by known authors are found. The best modern 
 collection is that of Duran (Madrid, 1861). The ballads, of 
 which the vast majority are comparatively modern, are here 
 divided according as they treat of Moorish legends, legends 
 of the fabulous history of chivalry, sacred history, histories 
 of Rome and Greece, Spanish history, lives of saints, 
 and other subjects. The most valuable in every way are 
 those relating to episodes in the national history and to 
 the exploits of the national heroes. Three great Spanish 
 legends were especially popular with the ballad-makers : that 
 of Bernardo del Carpio ; that of the Seven Princes [Infantes) 
 of Lara ; and that of the Cid. The word legends is used 
 advisedly, for the Cid of the ballads is a very different 
 person from the rough champion of the Poema ; and though 
 Bernardo himself is historical, his exploits are certainly 
 fabulous. Bernardo is represented as the son of a secret 
 marriage between Jimena, the sister of Alfonso the Chaste, and 
 the Count of Saldana, a nobleman of the court. His parents 
 fell under the royal displeasure for having married without 
 permission ; his mother retired into a convent and his father 
 was cast into prison. Bernardo was brought up at his uncle's 
 court, where his noble qualities made him a general favourite. 
 But the king, his uncle, in spite of the love he bore him, 
 allowed him to suppose that he was a bastard. When already 
 a grown man, Bernardo learns the secret of his birth, and 
 immediately demands the liberation of his father. His request 
 is roughly refused, but he nevertheless remains loyal j he fights 
 the king's battles, and on more than one occasion saves his 
 life. Finally he is driven to despair, and revolts on hearing 
 that his uncle intends to leave the kingdom of Castile by will 
 to his powerful neighbour, Charles the Great. Bernardo now 
 enters into an alliance with the Moors of Aragon and appears as 
 victor in the great legendary battle at Roncesvalles, where 
 he kills Roland with his own hand and delivers the country 
 
THE BALLADS 
 
 47 
 
 from the French. Alfonso now promises to give up his 
 father to him, but acting with his usual bad faith, he first 
 avenges his family honour by killing the Count in his prison. 
 The body is placed on horseback, and so handed over in 
 mockery to Bernardo. The series of ballads ends with 
 Bernardo's vows of vengeance. The following beautiful lines 
 contain the lamentations of Count Saldana in prison : — 
 
 1 Banando esta las prisiones Sin duda que te detiene 
 
 Con lagrimas que derrama La que de tu madre alcanzas 
 
 El conde don Sancho Diaz Que por ser de la del Rey 
 
 Ese senor de Saldana. Juzgaras mal de mi causa. 
 
 Y entre el llanto y soledad, Todos tres sois mis contrarios, 
 D'esta suerte se quejaba Que a un desdichado no basta 
 De Don Bernardo, su hijo, Que sus contrarios lo sean 
 Del rey Alfonso y su hermana. Sino sus propias entranas. 
 
 — Los ailos de mi prision Todos los que aqui me tienen 
 
 Tan aborrecida y larga, Me cuentan de tus hazanas, 
 
 Por momentos me lo dicen Si para tu padre no, 
 
 Aquestas mis tristes canas. Dime << para quien las guardas? 
 
 Cuando entre en este castillo Aqui estoy en estos hierros 
 
 Apenas entre con barbas, Y, pues d'ellos no me sacas, 
 
 Y agora por mis pecados Mal padre debo de ser, 
 La veo crecida y blanca. O tu mal hijo, me faltas. 
 I Que descuido es este, hijo ? Perdoname si te ofendo, 
 
 i Como a voces no te llama Que descanso en las palabras, 
 
 La sangre que tienes mia Que yo como viejo lloro, 
 
 A socorrer donde falta ? Y tu como ausente callas. 
 
 1 ' ' He is bathing his fetters — with the tears which he sheds — the Count Don 
 Sancho Diaz — the lord of Saldana. — And amidst his solitary weeping — this was 
 his complaint — against Don Bernardo, his son, — against the king Don Alfonso 
 and his sister. — 'The years of my captivity — so hateful and so long — are 
 every moment told to me — by these sad gray hairs of mine. — When I came 
 into this castle — I scarce wore beard on chin — and now for my sins — I see it 
 long and white. — What indifference is this, my son? — How does it not cry 
 aloud — that blood thou hast of mine — to succour where need is? — Doubtless 
 thou art restrained — by the blood thy mother gave, — and since that is the blood 
 of the king, — thou wilt ill judge my cause. — My enemies are ye all three, — for to 
 the luckless it is not enough — that his foes should treat him ill, — his very 
 heart's blood is against him. — All they who hold me here — tell me of thy ex- 
 ploits,— if it be not for thy father, — for whom dost thou keep them? — Here 
 am I in these chains — and since thou dost not deliver me, — a bad father must I 
 be, — or thou, a bad son, failest me, — Pardon me if I wrong thee, — for in words I 
 find relief, — for I like an old man weep, — and thou like the absent art silent. ' " 
 
48 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 The legend of the Seven Princes of Lara and the Bastard 
 Mudarra does not contain quite so many inherent improbabili- 
 ties as the foregoing. The outlines of this story are as follows : 
 Ruy Velazquez or Rodrigo, a nobleman of the great house of 
 Lara, marries Dona Lambra, a lady of high position.. His 
 nephews, the infantes, come to the wedding, but are advised 
 not to attend the festivities for fear of quarrels. During the 
 jousts a dispute breaks out between the bride and Dona 
 Sancha, the mother of the infantes, as to whose kinsmen are 
 the better knights. The infantes hear of it through their tutor, 
 Nuno Salido. The youngest comes into the lists and with the 
 first throw of his lance hurls to the ground the tablado, or 
 hoarding, of which the other knights have only succeeded in 
 breaking a few planks. The i?ifantes are set upon by the 
 opposite party, and a relation of the bride is slain in the melee. 
 Dona Lambra now determines on vengeance and, during a 
 hunting party, induces one of her servants to insult the Laras, 
 who kill him, thus making the quarrel worse.- Ruy Velazquez 
 is led by his wife to betray his nephews to the Moors, He 
 sends their father, Don Gonzalo Bustos, on a pretended 
 embassy to Almanzor, king of Cordova, with orders that he is to 
 be kept in captivity, Subsequently he treacherously leads the 
 seven princes into an ambuscade, and they all die fighting 
 bravely together with Nuno Salido their tutor. Their heads 
 are presented to their father by Almanzor. Whilst Don Bustos 
 is in prison a son is born to him by the sister of the Moorish 
 king, who secretly loves him. Don Bustos is at length released, 
 and his bastard son, the famous Mudarra, learning the secret 
 of his birth, avenges the death of his half-brothers by burning 
 Dona Lambra, and bringing the head of Ruy Velazquez to 
 Don Gonzalo Bustos, who is now an old man, but still pines 
 for the vengeance which lies beyond his power, Mudarra 
 becomes a Christian, and his resemblance to one of her 
 sons causes him to be greatly beloved by his father's wife 
 
THE BALLADS 
 
 49 
 
 The following spirited passage 
 the feud: — 
 
 1 Tiran unos, tiran otros, 
 Ninguno bien bohordaba. 
 Alii salio un caballero 
 De los de Cordoba la liana, 
 Bohordo hacia el tablado 
 Y una vara bien tirara. 
 Alii hablara la novia^ 
 D'esta manera hablara. 
 
 Amad, senoras, amad 
 Cada una en su lugar, 
 Que mas vale un caballero 
 De los de Cordoba la liana, 
 Que no veinte ni treinta 
 De los de casa de Lara. — 
 Oidolo habia Dona Sancha 
 D'esta manera hablara : 
 
 No digais eso, senora, 
 No digades tal palabra, 
 Porque hoy os desposaron 
 Con don Rodrigo de Lara. — 
 
 ; Callad, Dona Sancha ! vos 
 No debeis ser escuchada, 
 Que siete hijos paristes 
 Como puerca encenagada. — 
 
 describes the first outbreak of 
 
 Oidolo habia el ayo 
 
 Que a los Infantes criaba : 
 
 De alii se habia salido, 
 
 Triste se fue a su posada : 
 
 Hallo que estaban jugando 
 
 Los Infantes a las tablas, 
 
 Si no era el menor d'ellos, 
 
 Gonzalo Gonzalez se llama ; 
 
 Recostado lo hallo 
 
 De pechos a una baranda, 
 
 I Como venis triste, ayo ? 
 Deci i quien os enojara ? — 
 Tanto le rogo Gonzalo 
 Que el ayo se lo contara : 
 
 Mas mucho os ruego, mi hijo, 
 Que no salgais a la plaza. — 
 No lo quiso hacer Gonzalo, 
 Mas antes tomo una lanza, 
 Caballero en un caballo 
 Vase derecho a la plaza : 
 Vido estar alii el tablado 
 Que nadie lo derribara. 
 Enderezose en la silla 
 Con el en el suelo daba. 
 
 1 ' ' One tries and then another — but none could hurl aright. — Then came 
 forth a knight — of those of Cordova of the plain, — he hurled towards the 
 hoarding, — well did he cast his lance. — Then the bride spoke out — in this 
 wise did she speak. — ' Bestow your love, my ladies, — each one as likes her 
 best, — for better is a single knight — of those of Cordova of the plain, — than 
 twenty or thirty knights — of the noble house of Lara.' — Dona Sancha heard 
 her words, — in this wise did she speak — ' Speak not so, lady, — say not such 
 words as those, — for this day were you wedded — to Don Rodrigo de Lara.' — 
 ' Hold thy peace, Dona Sancha ; — thou oughtest not have a hearing — seven 
 sons hast thou borne — like a sow that wallows in mud.' — These words 
 the tutor heard — who had the Princes in his charge : — straightway he left the 
 place, — sadly he withdrew to his lodging, — and there he found the Princes, — at 
 tables they were playing, — except the youngest of them — whose name is 
 Gonzalo Gonzalez ; — him he found leaning out — with his arms on the window- 
 sill. — ' How come you so sad, dear master? — Say, who has injured you?' — 
 So earnestly begged Gonzalo — that the master told his tale : — ' But I beg from 
 my heart, my son, — that ye go not forth to the lists ' — Gonzalo would not give 
 heed — but he seized his lance in hand — and he mounted on his horse, — forth to 
 the lists he went : — there he saw the hoarding stand, — for none had cast it 
 down, — he straightened himself in the saddle, — and hurled it to the ground." 
 
50 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 The Cid of the Romancero differs but little from the Cid 
 of the special Chronicle devoted to his exploits. He is the 
 son of Diego Lainez, a knight 01 Burgos. His father in his old 
 age has been grievously insulted by the Conde Lozano, a proud 
 and wealthy nobleman. Brooding over his affront he deter- 
 mines to make trial of the spirit of his sons. This he does by 
 the barbarous but effective method of biting their fingers, 
 which, at his bidding, they place in his mouth. The elder sons 
 cry out and beg him to desist, but Rodrigo, the youngest, 
 shows his spirit by threatening him, and thus is chosen as his 
 father's avenger. Rodrigo challenges and slays the Conde 
 Lozano. Jimena, the daughter of the Count, loudly demands 
 justice of the king, and a marriage is brought about between 
 her and Rodrigo in order to stay the feud. Rodrigo now 
 begins his military exploits by the famous battle in which, by 
 conquering five Moorish kings, he is supposed to have gained 
 the title of "my Cid" (Arab, sezd =\ord). He now undertakes 
 a pilgrimage to Santiago ; on his journey Saint Lazarus appears 
 to him in the form of a leper to whom he has shown great 
 humanity, and promises him a prosperous career. Chosen as 
 champion of Castile to contest the possession of Calahorra 
 with an Aragonese knight, he comes out of the lists victorious. 
 Many expeditions against the Moors are mentioned or de- 
 scribed, and in these the Cid is uniformly successful. When 
 the Emperor claims recognition of his over-lordship from the 
 King of Castile, the Cid encourages his master to refuse the 
 demand. The parties are cited to appear before the Pope; 
 the Cid accompanies the king Don Fernando, and, finding the 
 throne of the King of France placed in a more dignified position 
 that than of his sovereign, he hurls it down and claims for 
 Castile the highest place. For this outrage he is excommuni- 
 cated ; but, of course, like a good Catholic submits and is 
 readily pardoned. Jimena writes a letter complaining of the 
 continual absence of her husband, and is wittily answered by 
 
THE BALLADS 51 
 
 the king to whom it was addressed. King Fernando dies after 
 dividing his kingdom among his three sons, and leaving the 
 town of Zamora to his daughter Urraca, who cherishes a 
 romantic affection for the Cid. On the outbreak of war 
 between the three brothers, Rodrigo takes the part of Don 
 Sancho the eldest, who is consequently successful. He is after- 
 wards sent by the king Don Sancho to request Dona Urraca 
 to exchange or sell Zamora. She refuses, and bitterly re- 
 proaches him for the ingratitude with which he requites her 
 love. The people of Zamora, led by Arias Gonzalo, determine 
 to resist the king, who, unjustly attributing their conduct to the 
 instigation of the Cid, drives him into exile and lays siege to 
 the city. Arias Gonzalo, the defender of Zamora, warns the 
 besiegers to beware of Bellido Dolfos, the traitor, who has 
 gone forth from the walls ; the king nevertheless, putting faith 
 in his promise to deliver up the city, puts himself in his power 
 and is treacherously slain by him. The Cid, who has by this 
 time returned to favour and is present in the king's camp, 
 though not taking an active part in the siege, pursues the 
 traitor to the gates of the city and, failing to come up with him, 
 pronounces his curse on all knights who ride without spurs. 
 Diego Ordonez challenges the Zamorans, accusing them of 
 having taken part in the treacherous act by which Don Sancho 
 met his death. The challenge is accepted by Arias Gonzalo 
 and his sons, three of whom are slain by Ordonez. The ordeal 
 of battle, however, proves the goodness of their cause, and 
 Zamora is freed from reproach of treachery by the challenger's 
 horse accidentally carrying him outside the limits prescribed by 
 the judges, thus leaving the victory undecided. Alfonso, the 
 brother of Don Sancho, escapes from his captivity among the 
 Moors and succeeds to the throne. He outlaws the Cid, who 
 has offended him by exacting from him an oath "on an iron 
 bolt and a wooden crossbow" that he had no part in Don 
 Sancho's death. The Cid submits to his sentence, though 
 
52 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 powerful enough to have resisted it, and sets forth to win for 
 himself a kingdom from the Moors. When successful, he 
 recognises the overlordship of Don Alfonso who, finding him- 
 self unable to dispense with his services, recalls him. The Cid 
 now conquers Valencia, and dwells there in semi-independent 
 state, sending rich presents to the king, who in return arranges the 
 marriage of his vassal's daughters, Dona Elvira and Dona Sol, 
 with the Counts of Carrion. Some time after the wedding, the 
 Counts of Carrion avenge themselves by maltreating their wives 
 for insults brought upon them through their own cowardice. They 
 are summoned before the king to defend their cause by arms, 
 and, being defeated by the champions of the ladies, are condemned 
 to pay compensation to their father-in-law, who now marries his 
 daughters to the princes of Navarre and Aragdn. The Cid 
 returns to Valencia, and there he dies. The prophecy that he 
 should be victorious after death is fulfilled by the rout of the 
 Moors, who are besieging Valencia, and are put to flight by the 
 sight of the hero's corpse mounted on his horse, lance in hand, 
 according to his own dying instructions. The body of the Cid 
 is finally carried to San Pedro de Cardena, where it is laid in 
 the monastery. Even the dead body of the champion is able 
 to defend itself. It starts into life again when insulted by a 
 Jew, who attempts to pluck the beard, 1 and such is the terror it 
 inspires in the wretched infidel that he at once becomes a good 
 Christian. 
 
 The ballads of this series, and throughout the whole of the 
 Ro7nancerO) vary greatly in date, in interest, and in literary merit. 
 Some of the most beautiful of them, unconnected with the 
 heroes of romance and of history, are purely imaginative or 
 pastoral in character ; others are deeply infected with the 
 artificial and euphuistic taste of the seventeenth century, in 
 which the greater part of them were composed. The ballads 
 
 1 Numerous interesting references to the superstitious reverence in which 
 the beard was held are to be found in the Poema de Myo Cid. 
 
 
THE BALLADS 53 
 
 were at that time ceasing to be really popular, and were becom- 
 ing, greatly to their loss, the property of literary men. The 
 tone, even of the later ones, 1 is however generally manly, for 
 the more artificial and pretentious writers despised this simple 
 form, and throughout them ring the keynotes of the Spanish 
 inspiration, Catholicism, loyalty, and the same intense sensitive- 
 ness as to the point of honour which appears again in an 
 exaggerated form as the almost invariable theme of the drama 
 of a later age. 
 
 1 Among these some of the best are those that refer to the famous feud 
 between the two great families of the Abencerrages and the Zegries at Granada. 
 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 CATALAN LITERATURE 
 
 Before passing on to the history of the novel and of the drama, 
 a few words must be said about the writers who, before the 
 union of Castile and Aragon under the Catholic monarchs, 
 flourished in the north-east of Spain, and used their native 
 Lemosin orValencian tongue. It is true that these writers belong 
 rather to Provence than to Spain, and were connected by race, 
 language, and literary tradition with France and Italy rather 
 than with Castile ; still to Spain, as it now exists, belongs the 
 honour of having produced them, and thus they come within 
 the province of a history of Spanish literature. They have left 
 behind them a large body of writings, consisting chiefly of 
 amatory verse of the kind cultivated by the troubadours. Very 
 few names deserve special mention among the long list of 
 victors in the Floral Games and Courts of Love. 
 
 The troubadours are sharply distinguished from their 
 Castilian contemporaries by both the matter and the form of 
 their work ; throughout their poetry, except that of a purely 
 religious kind, a light and frivolous tone is noticeable, of which 
 we have no example in Castilian until the time of Juan II., 
 when it was introduced by the Provencal poets who were 
 encouraged to take up their residence at court. The older 
 Castilian poetry was written for the people and depended for 
 its interest chiefly upon its subject ; the Catalan poetry was 
 
CATALAN LITERATURE 55 
 
 written by a special class for a special class, and sought to shine 
 chiefly by its form. Castilian is rich in ballads, but exceed- 
 ingly poor in the metrical combination in which the Provencal, 
 like the Galician poetry, excelled. The distinction above 
 noticed originated probably in the strongly marked ethnological 
 characteristics which, up to the present, have hindered all real 
 sympathy between two nations thus unevenly yoked under one 
 crown. Those who look to poetry for the general expression 
 of the sentiments of an individual or of a people will ever 
 prefer the rough and manly verses of the men of the uplands of 
 Central Spain to the polished but vapid lyrics of the descendants 
 of the troubadours who inhabited the north-eastern provinces. 
 
 In spite of altered times and changed ideals, the works of 
 Ausias March are still read by his compatriots. He was a 
 Valencian, and flourished in the fifteenth century. A devoted 
 admirer and imitator of Petrarch, he addressed his somewhat 
 fantastical and metaphysical verses to a shadowy lady, whose 
 real existence has been doubted However this may be, we 
 cannot believe in the genuineness of his affection for her, 
 expressed as it is in the stately but somewhat hollow- sounding 
 So7igs of Love and Deaths where passion is set forth with most 
 elaborate accompaniment of abstruse similes and metaphors. 
 To Ausias March belongs the glory of being the greatest master 
 of his native tongue ; to him is also due the credit of avoiding 
 the extravagant hyperbole that distinguishes the school of which 
 he forms the chief ornament. The Marques de Santillana, in 
 the brief account of the Provencal school contained in his letter 
 to the constable of Portugal, rates him highly, saying, " Mosen 
 Ausias March, who is still alive, is a great troubadour, and a 
 man of very lofty mind" {gran trovador e hombre de asaz 
 elevado espiritii). This verdict agrees with that of the most 
 learned of modern Spanish critics, 1 who treats him as a philo- 
 sopher who happened to write in verse. 
 
 1 Menendez y Pelayo, Historia de las Ideas esUticas en Espana, vol. i. 
 
56 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Jaume Roig wrote the Ladies' Book in short and lively verse 
 in his native Valencian language. It is one of the many satires 
 on women, which form so large a part of the literary stock of 
 the Middle Ages, and is somewhat more worthy of attention than 
 most books of the class by reason of the many quaint local 
 details that it introduces. Its faults are its obscurity and 
 licentiousness, as well as the unsuitability of its measure to so 
 long a composition. 1 
 
 Catalonia produced a celebrated Romance of Chivalry, 
 Tirant lo Blanch, the work of Joanot Martorell. Though 
 highly praised by Cervantes, in the scrutiny of Don Quixote's 
 books, it has little merit as a book of entertainment. That 
 which most favourably distinguishes it from others of the same 
 kind is the almost unique quality of an entire absence of the 
 supernatural element, the abuse of which forms one of the worst 
 features of the class. 
 
 The Catalan chronicles are superior to the Castilian in 
 literary execution and dramatic interest. Two of them deserve 
 special notice. The first is the Ch?'onicle of En Jaime of 
 Aragon, surnamed el Conquistador. It was composed by 
 the monarch himself, and continued up to a period immedi- 
 ately preceding his death in 1276. Written with frank and 
 manly simplicity, and abounding in interesting details, it 
 brings out with great vividness the striking personality of its 
 author who is at the same time its central figure. The candour 
 with which the great prince describes his public and private life 
 is truly charming. The value of these memoirs as a historical 
 document is very great. The second conqueror of Valencia is 
 almost as interesting as the Cid, who was the first to successfully 
 carry out the great exploit which gave En Jaime his surname. 
 
 The second chronicle to which reference has been made 
 above is, like that of En Jaime, the work of a man of action. 
 
 1 The author of the Pelegrino Curioso (sixteenth cent. ) remarks on this pecu- 
 liarity, likening Roig's verse to " feet of moles, club-footed men or hedgehogs. " 
 
CATALAN LITERATURE 57 
 
 Its author, Ramon de Muntaner, was of noble birth, and fought 
 valiantly in the wars waged by the successors of En Jaime. 
 He tells of the great men of his time, of courts and camps, 
 feasting and fighting, and his chapters pass before us like some 
 gorgeous pageant of the chivalrous times and sunny land in 
 which he lived. The, whole breathes the spirit of the faithful 
 soldier, loyal gentleman, and good Christian, whose lance was 
 not the less sharp because his pen was ready. 1 
 
 The celebrated Raimundus Lullius, or Ramon Lull, "the 
 knight-errant of philosophy, ascetic and troubadour, novelist 
 and missionary," 2 was born in 1235, in the island of Majorca, 
 and in youth he led a gay and thoughtless life. Having one 
 day followed into a church a lady whose beauty had attracted 
 his attention, she ridded herself of his importunities by suddenly 
 uncovering before him her bosom, disfigured by a hideous 
 cancer. The revulsion of feeling was so violent that the young 
 gallant forthwith turned his mind to serious thoughts ; he 
 travelled through Europe and the Holy Land, studying wher- 
 ever he went, and ended his life as a martyr at the hands of 
 the Moorish pirates. His philosophical works were originally 
 written in Latin, but were afterwards translated. His literary 
 works consist chiefly of religious poems. The best known of 
 these is Lo Desconort (Despair), a long and monotonous work 
 in heavy verse, which takes the form of a dialogue between the 
 poet and a hermit. He also wrote a kind of allegorical novel 
 called Blanquerna, from the name of its hero, which is meant 
 to portray the ideal of Christian virtue at every period of life 
 and in all classes of society. 
 
 Had it not been for the union with Castile, which took 
 place shortly after the Renaissance, there is little doubt that 
 
 1 An early version of this celebrated saying, which Cervantes quotes in a 
 somewhat different form, is to be found in the preface to the Proverbs of the 
 Marques de Santillana ; it is as follows : La sciencia no embota el fierro de la 
 lanza ni face floxa el espada en la mano del caballero. 
 
 2 Menendez y Pelayo, Historia de las Ideas esUticas en Espana. 
 
58 
 
 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 
 the influence of Italy, with which the Catalans were closely 
 connected, would have developed their national literature 
 into something more truly worthy of the name ; but with the 
 unification of Spain, their language ceased to be a literary one. 
 A revival of late years has done something to restore to it its 
 former dignity, but the movement is rather erudite than popular, 
 and savours somewhat of the "provincialism" that forms a 
 distinguishing feature of the Catalan character. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 ORIGIN OF THE DRAMA 
 
 One of the oldest literary documents in Spanish is a fragment 
 of the Misterio de los Reyes Magos^ a miracle play. Besides 
 the existence of this piece, there is enough proof to warrant the 
 belief that some form of dramatic representation had been from 
 classical times continually practised in Spain, although the 
 classical tradition as represented by Seneca had been utterly 
 lost. Alfonso the Wise refers to the subject in his Partidas^ 
 and draws a marked distinction between religious and profane 
 representations, ordaining that in the latter, which he calls 
 jnegos por escarnio (scurrilous plays), the clergy must not take 
 part either as actors or as spectators, because of the indecent 
 nature of such performances. With regard to the representa- 
 tions of religious subjects, such as the Nativity and the 
 Resurrection (see p. 186), he forbids them to be played in 
 small villages or for hire, and places them under the super- 
 intendence of the Bishops. The Chronicle of Don Alvaro de 
 Luna mentions entremeses (interludes), a name afterwards given 
 to short pieces of a comic character, but here referring appar- 
 ently to dramatic allegories. The Chronicle of Juan II. 
 mentions acetones comi'eas, and Don Alonso de Cartagena, a 
 bishop of the same century, in his Doctrmal de Caballeros 
 (Ordinances of Knighthood) declares it to be unsuited to the 
 dignity of a knight to take part in momos (farces). No specimen 
 
60 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 of the compositions referred to under the above names has come 
 down to us, but, judging from those of a later date, we may 
 be sure they were of a very rough and primitive character. 
 
 The fifteenth century produced several works in dialogue, 
 mostly allegorical, which, though unfitted for acting, may well 
 have suggested it, and certainly had considerable influence in 
 developing the theatre from its rude condition. 
 
 The name comedia or comedieta occurs in the title of a short 
 poetical composition in dialogue by the Marques de Santillana, 
 which cannot fairly be considered as a drama and was pro- 
 bably never represented, but forms a kind of landmark in the 
 literary history of this obscure period. The subject of the 
 Comedieta de Ponza is the defeat and capture of the kings of 
 Navarre and Aragon and the infante of Castile by the Genoese 
 in 1435. The wives of these potentates are the speakers, 
 together with Santillana himself and Boccaccio, who is naturally 
 well versed in such matters as the Downfall of P?inces. The 
 disastrous news of the battle is discussed, and the " comedy " 
 ends with the apparition of Fortune, who promises future 
 glories that shall compensate for the present reverse. 
 
 The most important of such dialogues, excepting the Celes- 
 tifia (see p. 81), are the Coplas de Mingo Revulgo, and the 
 Dialogue between an Old Man and Love, both of which are 
 written in spirited verse and are ascribed to Rodrigo Cota, the 
 author of the first part of the Celestina. The transition from 
 is such compositions to the regular drama is very gradual. 
 
 Contemporary authors are agreed in dating the definite rise 
 of the national drama from the eventful year which saw the 
 conquest of Granada and the discovery of the New World. The 
 honour of being the first dramatist is assigned to Juan del 
 Encina, a graduate of Salamanca, and famous poet and 
 musician, 1 who enjoyed the protection of the first Duke of 
 Alva. He subsequently took orders, made a pilgrimage to 
 
 ] See the Cancionero Musical de los Siglos XV. y XVI. Madrid, 1890. 
 
 
ORIGIN OF THE DRAMA 61 
 
 Jerusalem, and, after holding the position of musical director 
 of the Pope's chapel, returned to die in his native country. 
 His dramatic pieces were represented on festal occasions in the 
 houses of grandees. He himself calls them Eglogas in imita- 
 tion of Vergil, whom he greatly admired and whose Bucolics he 
 had translated. Of the twelve Eglogas that have come down to 
 us, six are religious, and are intended to celebrate the festivals of 
 the Church, in accordance with the ancient custom. The other 
 six are secular in character. They are written in lively redon- 
 dillas, lines of eight syllables, rhymed A.B.B.A., sometimes in 
 the more artificial form A.B.B.A.A.C.C.A. ; they contain carols 
 (villancicos) of lyric form. The secular pieces are merely scenes \ 
 from everyday life, and none of them show any comprehen- 
 sion of the classic methods of dramatic composition. 
 
 The Aucto del Repclbn x represents, as its name implies, a 
 street scuffle in Salamanca. Two shepherds, Piernicurto and 
 Johan Paramas, whilst selling their cheeses in the market, are 
 hustled and insulted by students. In order to escape they 
 take different directions. Paramas takes refuge in a gentle- 
 man's house, and is beginning to relate his misadventure when 
 Piernicurto interrupts him by entering and informing him that 
 all the flock is lost. A student unwisely makes his appear- 
 ance alone, and attempts to continue the horse -play. He 
 is roughly thrust out by the shepherds, who, together with two 
 of their companions, sing a villancico, which concludes the 
 piece. 
 
 In Pldcida y Victoria?io mythological elements are intro- 
 duced, probably in imitation of the Italian theatre with which 
 Encina must have been familiar. The very titles of some of 
 his pieces, such as The Esquire who became a Shepherd, and 
 The Shepherds who became Courtiers, tell the simple incidents 
 
 1 The word aucto or auto (Latin actum, cf. auto de fe) used in connection 
 with the drama, at first signified any kind of dramatic composition. The name 
 was subsequently restricted to those of a religious character, and particularly 
 to the autos sacramentales. 
 
62 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 on which Encina composed his pretty verses in praise of a 
 country life. 
 
 Contemporary with Encina were Gil Vicente, a Portuguese, 
 and Lucas Fernandez, whose works have recently come to 
 light. The former, a close imitator of Encina, wrote some of 
 his works entirely in his native language, some partly in Portu- 
 guese and partly in Castilian. Of this peculiarity we have 
 other examples ; a writer of the next century introduces into 
 the same play Latin, Italian, Castilian, and Valencian ; in the 
 Comedieta de Ponza (p. 60) Boccaccio speaks in his native 
 language. Vicente cultivated both religious and profane sub- 
 jects ; his idea of the art was almost as rude as that of his 
 master, as may be seen from the plot of his Vindo (Widower), 
 which turns on the inability of a gallant to make up his mind 
 which he shall marry of two sisters for each of whom he enter- 
 tains an evenly balanced affection. Lucas Fernandez brought 
 little that is new to the stage, except the name co?nedia now 
 first applied to dramas. It is worth while, however, to give a 
 brief sketch of one of his antos in honour of the Nativity, in 
 order to serve as a specimen of the condition at this time of 
 that form of drama which Calderdn afterwards cultivated with 
 so much success. Four shepherds come on to the stage com- 
 plaining, after the manner of their kind, of the weather and the 
 crops. One of them, who is particularly bitter in his lamenta- 
 tions, consoles himself by lunching, and afterwards rouses a 
 sleeping companion to play with him. Whilst the two are 
 engaged in their game another shepherd rushes in announcing 
 the Saviour's birth, of which he has been informed by the songs 
 of the angels. The shepherds now recall to memory and 
 relate one to another the prophecies of the event, and, singing 
 a carol, they start for Bethlehem to adore the new-born Christ. 
 Dramatic poets now become more numerous, and their 
 works more worthy of attention. Torres Naharro had known 
 Encina in Rome ; he had been a captive in Algiers, and, like 
 
ORIGIN OF THE DRAMA 63 
 
 so many of the Spanish literary men of his own and of a 
 subsequent time, he became a priest before his death. He 
 published his poetical works at Naples in 151 7, under the 
 high-sounding title of Propaladia, or the First-fruits of Genius. 
 Amongst them are to be found eight plays which mark an 
 important improvement in the dramatic art. Naharro draws a 
 distinction between historical dramas and those of which the - 
 plot is drawn from imagination. His plays are divided into 
 five acts (jornadas), and each opens with an argument and 
 prologue (intrbitd). Of the eight plays, the historical ones are 
 the best in form and execution, but most interest undoubtedly 
 attaches to the Comedia Ti?ielaria and the Comedia Soldadesca. 
 Of these the characters are, as might be expected, more natural 
 than either the carol-singing shepherds of the earlier dramatists, 
 or the author's own historical personages. 
 
 The scene of the Comedia Soldadesca is laid in Rome. 
 Guzman, a Spaniard, complains of his bad fortune ; he meets 
 a captain who is known to him, and who has a commission 
 to raise troops for the army of the Pope. The captain offers 
 him a place as lieutenant which he accepts. A drummer is 
 enlisted and announces the terms of service to various recruits, 
 to whom the captain afterwards makes a short speech explain- 
 ing their future duties. A quarrel breaks out between two of 
 the would-be soldiers, but is settled by the captain. A runaway 
 friar enlists, and goes off with his fellows to the house of a 
 farmer who speaks only Italian, thus giving rise to a good deal 
 of misapprehension. The soldiers behave in a high-handed 
 way, making love to the servant girl, and ordering the house- 
 hold about ; the farmer, aided by a friend, proposes to chastise 
 them. Two of the soldiers discuss a plan of desertion and 
 robbery. The farmer complains to the captain of the ill-treat- 
 ment he has received. The captain pacifies him, and persuades 
 him and his friend to enlist. They accept, and the whole com- 
 pany marches off singing a carol. From the above analysis, it 
 
64 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 will be seen that this piece cannot claim to fulfil any of the 
 
 requirements of the drama ; it is merely a series of disconnected 
 
 scenes reproduced on the stage. Its merit consists in the fact 
 
 ! that the persons introduced are lifelike and true to nature, and 
 
 V speak in simple and unaffected terms. 
 
 Among the primitive dramatists, Lope de Rueda occupies 
 a unique and important place. He was by trade a gold-beater 
 of Seville, but became a dramatic auto7\ a word which signifies 
 a writer of plays who is, at the same time, an actor and manager 
 of a company — a combination of functions usual in the early 
 days of the theatre. He travelled over the south of Spain, and 
 is known to have played at Seville, Cordova, Granada, and 
 Valencia. He is praised by both Cervantes and Antonio Perez, 
 who had seen him act. He died about 1567. Lope de Rueda has 
 left us comedias, coloquios pastoriles, after the fashion of those of 
 Encina, and twenty fiasos, or short pieces of_a _ farcic al.Jrind, 
 without real plot, some in prose and some in verse. These latter 
 form the most valuable and important part of his work. The 
 situations are often really comic, and are developed in natural 
 and animated dialogue. An idea of the character of these 
 compositions can be gathered from the plot of one of them, 
 entitled The Olives [Las Acettunas). Torrubio, an old farmer, 
 comes on to the stage, which represents his house, bearing a 
 load of wood ; his wife, Agueda, asks him if he has replanted 
 the olive garden ; he says that he has done so, and forthwith 
 the pair begin to discuss the probable amount of the produce, 
 and the manner in which it is to be disposed of; their 
 daughter, Menciguela, is called in, and her mother gives her 
 instructions to sell the olives at a certain price, her father all 
 the while protesting that the price named is excessive ; Menci- 
 giiela tries to satisfy both parties by promising to each in turn 
 to do as she is bid ; this only exasperates her parents, who fall 
 upon her and beat her ; finally a neighbour comes in, attracted 
 by the noise, and persuades the distracted family s 
 
ORIGIN OF THE DRAMA 65 
 
 somewhat premature to quarrel about the price of fruit that 
 cannot be grown before the lapse of five years at the least. 
 
 The coryiedias of Lope de Rueda, four in number, mark a 
 distinct improvement upon the work of the earlier writers ; one 
 at least of them is imitated from the Italian. They are divided 
 into scenes, but not into acts. In their plots we already get a 
 trace of the intricacy which subsequently forms so marked a 
 feature of the Spanish drama. Here also may be found the 
 poor dramatic expedient, so dear to Spanish writers, of the two 
 persons so extremely alike that they are continually mistaken 
 by their friends ; sometimes, also, by the spectators. 
 
 Juan de Timoneda, a bookseller of Valencia, was a close 
 friend of Lope de Rueda, whose works he published. He 
 composed Easos, Farces, Comedies, Entremeses, and an Auto or 
 mystery, called the Lost Sheep, which is somewhat less worth- 
 less than the rest of his works. The incidents on which his 
 plays are founded are often wildly extravagant ; his language is 
 coarse ; almost all his pieces end with a scuffle on the stage ; 
 neither in form nor in matter did he contribute to the improve- 
 ment of the drama, and he deserves mention only by reason of 
 the popularity which he undoubtedly enjoyed, and which gives 
 a clue to the taste of his time. 
 
 Such were the writers who laid the foundation of a national 
 drama destined to become both important and voluminous. 
 The above-mentioned playwrights consulted the popular taste, 
 which, under Lope de Vega, became supreme arbiter in matters 
 dramatic (see p. 166) ; others of more bookish mind wrote some- 
 what more correctly, imitating classical models. Of such are 
 Lupercio de Argensola (see p. 122) and Cristobal de Virues (see 
 p. 225), but their works are of slight merit, and do not bear the 
 stamp of the forms peculiar to the Spanish drama in after-times. 
 Side by side with the secular flourished the Religious 
 Drama, which will be treated in the chapter on Calderdn, its 
 greatest exponent. Of early religious plays many specimens 
 
 F 
 
66 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 have been preserved. One of the most interesting is the 
 CoTnedia Prodiga, by Luis de Miranda, which illustrates the 
 favourite story of the Prodigal Son, with many graphic details 
 drawn rather from its author's imagination than from sacred 
 writ. 
 
 To complete this brief sketch of the early drama, it will be 
 well to touch on the position of actors, their way of life, and 
 the primitive costumes, scenes, and "property" at their disposal. 
 On these particulars abundant information is contained in the 
 works of contemporary writers. Cervantes, 1 in the preface to 
 his own plays, speaking of his immediate predecessor Lope de 
 Rueda, says : — 
 
 2 In the time of this celebrated Spanish actor, the whole apparatus of an 
 autor (see p. 64) was contained in a sack, and consisted of four white sheep- 
 skins trimmed with gilt leather, together with four false beards and wigs, 
 and four shepherd's crooks, more or less. . . . There were no figures to 
 come popping up from the centre of the earth, or the space beneath the 
 stage. The stage itself was composed of four benches, forming a square, 
 with four or six planks placed upon them, so as to be raised about four 
 handsbreadths from the ground. Much less did clouds containing angels or 
 spirits come down from the sky. The back scene of the theatre consisted 
 of an old blanket which could be pulled by cords to one side or the other, and 
 this formed the green-room, behind which stood the musicians singing some 
 old ballad, without even a guitar to accompany them. . . . After Lope de Rueda 
 came Naharro, a native of Toledo, who was famous in the part of cowardly 
 bully. He somewhat raised the standard of theatrical adornment, exchang- 
 
 1 Comedias y Entremeses de Miguel de Cervantes. Marfn, Madrid, 1749. 
 Vol. i. Prdlogo al Lector. 
 
 2 " En el tiempo de este cdlebre Espanol, todos los aparatos de un Autor de 
 Comedias se encerraban en un costal, y se cifraban en cuatro pellicos blancos 
 guarnecidos de guadamecf dorado ; y en quatro barbas y cabelleras, y quatro 
 cayados, poco mas 6 menos. . . . No havfa figura que saliesse d pareciesse 
 salir del centro de la tierra por lo hueco del Theatro, al qual componfan quatro 
 bancos en quadro y quatro 6 seis tablas encima, con que se levantaba del suelo 
 quatro palmos ; ni menos baxaban del Cielo nubes con Angeles, 6 con almas. 
 El adorno del Theatro era una manta vieja, tirada con dos cordeles de una 
 parte a otra, que hacfa lo que llaman vestuario, detras de la qual estaban los 
 Miisicos cantando sin guitarra algun romance antiguo. . . . Succedid a Lope 
 de Rueda, Naharro, natural de Toledo, el qual fu6 famoso en hacer la figura 
 de un rufian cobarde. Este levantd algun tanto mas el adorno de las Comedias, 
 
ORIGIN OF THE DRAMA 67 
 
 ing the sack which used to contain the dresses, for chests and trunks. He 
 brought out the musicians who formerly sang behind the blanket, to the 
 public gaze ; he also abolished the beards of the comic actors, for, up to 
 that time, nobody played without a false beard, and he made them all play 
 without preliminary adjustment ; except those who had to represent old men, 
 or other parts which required a change of features. He it was who intro- 
 duced machinery, clouds, thunder and lightning, duels, and battles, but 
 all this had not yet come to the pitch of perfection which it has reached 
 nowadays. 
 
 At first no women appeared on the stage, the female parts 
 being taken by boys. The simplicity of the secular drama 
 must not, however, be taken as the standard by which to judge 
 of the religious performances, for documents still existing in the 
 archives of Seville mention silken dresses provided for Lope 
 de Rueda, who had gained the prize offered for the best auto 
 wherewith to celebrate the festival of Corpus Christi. Actors 
 were considered as outcasts till a much later period, nor is this 
 to be wondered at, if there is any truth in the memorial 
 presented to the king in 1645, begging him to remedy the 
 scandals and outrages caused by forty wandering companies of 
 actors, comprising no less than one thousand persons, among 
 them men of abandoned lives, and even escaped convicts. The 
 representations of religious dramas often took place in churches 
 and convents ; secular pieces were played in the open air on 
 Sundays or holidays, in inns or in places specially set apart 
 for the purpose. These were merely quadrangles {corrales) open 
 to the sky and surrounded by houses, the windows of which 
 formed the most costly seats for the spectators. Such quad- 
 rangles were, in Madrid at least, the property of religious and 
 charitable associations, which exercised the privilege allowed 
 
 y mud6 el costal de vestidos en cofres y en baules : saco la musica, que antes 
 cantaba detras de la manta, al Theatro publico : quitd las barbas de los Far- 
 santes, que hasta entonces ninguno representaba sin barba postiza ; y hizo que 
 todos representassen a curena rasa, sino era los que havfan de representar los 
 viejos, u otras figuras que pidiessen mudanza de rostro : invent6 tramoyas, 
 nubes, truenos y relampagos, desaffos y batallas ; pero esto no lleg6 al sublime 
 punto en que esta abora. " 
 
 V^ 
 
68 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 by law of heavily taxing for pious purposes the meagre receipts 
 of the actors. The sites of two of the most celebrated of these 
 quadrangles are now marked by two of the principal theatres 
 of the Spanish capital. 
 
 In spite of these many disadvantages, and notwithstanding 
 occasional persecution at the hands of the religious authorities, 
 the actors seem to have led a free and joyous, though squalid 
 and hard life. Augustin de Rojas, himself an actor, gives in 
 his Viage Entretenido (Diverting Journey) — 1603 — a graphic and 
 amusing account of the various kinds of dramatic companies, 
 distinguished by slang names according to the number of 
 actors they contained, and their higher or lower status in the 
 profession. This is how he describes the Carambaleo^ which 
 stood midway in the order of importance : — 
 
 1 Carambaleo consists of one woman who sings, and five men who 
 weep ; their baggage comprises one play, two autos, three or four entre- 
 meses, and a bundle of clothes which a spider might carry ; sometimes they 
 carry the woman on their backs, sometimes in a chair : they give repre- 
 sentations at homesteads for a loaf of bread, bunch of grapes, and a 
 cabbage stew ; in villages they charge six farthings, or a piece of sausage, 
 a hank of flax, or whatever else may happen to be offered, counting every- 
 thing as fish that comes to their net. In hamlets they stay four or six days ; 
 they hire a bed for the woman, and, if the landlady takes a fancy to any of 
 them she gives him a sackful of straw, and a blanket, and he sleeps in the 
 kitchen. In winter the straw-loft is their constant abode. At midday they 
 eat their olla of beef and six platefuls of broth apiece ; they all sit at the 
 same table, or sometimes on the bed ; the woman portions out the dinner, 
 
 1 ' ' Carambaleo es una mujer que canta y cinco hombres que lloran : estos 
 traen una comedia, dos autos, tres 6 cuatro entremeses, un Ifo de ropa, que 
 lo puede llevar una arana : llevan a ratos a la mujer a cuestas y otras en silla 
 de manos ; representan en los cortijos por hogaza de pan, racimo de uvas y 
 olla de berzas ; cobran en los pueblos a seis maravedises, pedazo de longaniza, 
 cerro de lino y todo lo demas que viene aventurero, sin que se deseche ripio ; 
 estan en los lugares cuatro 6 seis dfas ; alquilan para la' mujer una cama, y 
 el que tiene amistad con la huespeda dale un costal de paja, una manta y 
 duerme en la cocina : y en invierno, el pajar es su habitacidn eterna ; e"stos a 
 mediodfa comen su olla de vaca, y cada uno seis escudillas de caldo ; si£nt- 
 anse todos a una mesa, y otras veces sobre la cama ; reparte la mujer la 
 
ORIGIN OF THE DRAMA 69 
 
 gives each his due share of bread, and measures out to each the wine and 
 water ; each one wipes his hands and mouth with whatever comes handy, 
 for they have only one napkin between the lot, and the tablecloth is so 
 scanty that it falls short by several inches of covering the table. 
 
 comida, dales el pan por tasa, el vino aguado y por medida, y cada uno se 
 limpia donde halla, porque entre todos tienen una servilleta, 6 los manteles 
 estan tan desviados que no alcanzan a la mesa con diez dedos. " 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 POETRY OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY FOREIGN 
 
 INFLUENCES 
 
 In treating of the ballads and of the romances of chivalry, it 
 has been necessary to go far beyond the period represented by 
 Don Juan Manuel and the Archpriest of Hita in the other 
 branches of literature. It is true that many of the ballads were 
 collected and printed, and that romances of chivalry were still 
 produced during the seventeenth century, but to have placed 
 them alongside the great works of the Golden Age might have 
 led to a wrong impression as to their true position in the 
 general scheme of literature. When the ballads were petrified 
 by printing they were rapidly ceasing to be truly popular ; the 
 later romances of chivalry are the weakest of their kind. 
 
 Turning to poetry, we find that foreign influence has become 
 all-powerful during the fifteenth century. The series of the 
 old Spanish heroic and religious epic ends with the Poem of 
 Alfonso XL Provencal, Italian, and classical models begin to 
 be studied and imitated, and the general tone is less grave and 
 earnest. Lyric forms have taken the place of the old versos de 
 arte mayor, and love-songs of an artificial kind have ousted 
 the rough but glowing accounts of battles spiritual or physical. 
 The celebrated Cancionero de Paena, compiled during the 
 reign and by order of Juan II. of Castile, gives a very correct 
 idea of the taste of this time, during which the court was the 
 
POETRY OF THE XV. CENTURY 71 
 
 centre of literary activity, the elegant and feeble king himself 
 and his favourite, Don Alvaro de Luna, both being poets. 
 Juan Alfonso de Baena, from whom the collection takes its 
 name, was himself a writer of verse ; his book contains five 
 hundred and seventy-six compositions by sixty-two poets, 
 consisting chiefly of love-songs, but interspersed with hymns 
 and satires. This Cancionero marks a great advance in the ' 
 mechanical part of verse -making, but the general effect is 
 artificial and frigid. The purely formal ideal of art entertained 
 by the school is expressed in Baena's Introduction :— * 
 
 Poetry and the Gay Science (he says) is possessed, received, and 
 attained by the in-breathed grace of our Lord God who grants and sends it, 
 working upon those who, well and wisely, cunningly and aright, know how 
 to make, order, and compose it, and to polish, scan, and measure it by its 
 feet and pauses, and by its rhymes and syllables and accents, by cunning 
 arts variously and strangely named : and moreover this art belongs to 
 such intellect and such subtile wit that it cannot be learned or well and 
 properly known save by the man of very deep and subtle invention, and 
 of very lofty and pure discretion, and of very healthy and unerring judg- 
 ment, and such a one must have seen and heard and read many and diverse 
 books and writings, and know all languages, and have frequented king's 
 courts, and associated with great men, and beheld and taken part in worldly 
 affairs, and finally he must be of gentle birth, courteous and sedate, 
 polished, humorous, polite, and witty, and have in his composition honey 
 and sugar and salt, and a good presence and witty manner of reasoning ; 
 moreover he must be also a lover and ever make a show and pretence of 
 it, for many wise men have considered and affirmed that every man who is 
 in love, that is to say who loves whom he ought and as he ought and where 
 he ought, is endowed with all good doctrine. 1 
 
 It is, however, necessary to mention the names of some of 
 the authors whose works make up the Cancionero, both on 
 account of the popularity that they enjoyed even long after 
 their own time, and also because of the influence which they 
 exercised on the poetry of a later age. 
 
 Alfonso Alvarez de Villasandino was a mercenary verse- 
 maker, much appreciated during the reigns of Juan II. and his 
 
 1 Cancionero de Baena, p. 9. Rivadeneyra, Madrid, 1851. 
 
72 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 immediate predecessors. He composed for hire sonnets and 
 other complimentary verses to ladies whose rich and powerful 
 admirers were diffident as to the adequacy of their poetic 
 genius to worthily celebrate so great a subject. He also wrote 
 a series of satires on persons about the court. The point of 
 many of the latter is lost, but they are cleverly turned and 
 must undoubtedly have afforded amusement to those for whom 
 they were written. Villasandino is, however, at his best in the 
 hymns to the Virgin, in which he, like other secular poets of 
 the age, frequently gives proof of a strong religious spirit 
 underlying the artificial exterior of courtly life. 
 
 Micer Francisco Imperial was a Genoese by birth and an 
 admirer of Dante, whom he attempted to imitate both in 
 subject and in form, without attaining great success in either. 
 He was, however, highly esteemed by his contemporaries ; 
 Santillana speaking of him says, " I would not call him bard 
 (decidor) or minstrel (trovador) but poet, for it is certain that, 
 if any in this western region hath merited the reward of the 
 triumphal garland it is he." 
 
 The name of Enrique de Aragdn, Marques de Villena, is 
 more deserving of mention. This great nobleman gave himself 
 up from his earliest years to study ; so great was his knowledge 
 that during his lifetime he was looked upon with suspicion as 
 a student of the black art, and after his death his collection 
 of priceless books was burned, without examination, for fear 
 of the evil they might contain. His literary sympathies were 
 wide ; he translated parts of Vergil and Cicero into his native 
 tongue, and wrote a heavy and pedantic allegory called the 
 Labours of Hercules, as well as an Art of Carving. The work 
 which gives him his best title to a place in the history of the 
 poetry of his country is his Arte de Trovar, a brief treatise on 
 poetry, addressed in the form of a letter to his nephew, the 
 celebrated Marques de Santillana. The fragment that is 
 preserved contains some curious information about the Con- 
 
POETRY OF THE XV. CENTURY 73 
 
 sistory of the Gay Science which the author was mainly 
 instrumental in founding at Barcelona. This academy was 
 carefully modelled after the more celebrated one that had its 
 seat at Toulouse, and it succeeded in bringing together the 
 Provencal troubadours who had taken refuge in Catalonia in 
 order to avoid the persecution of the Albigenses. 
 
 Macias, surnamed el Efiamorado, a Galician retainer of the 
 Marques of Villena, was himself a verse-writer, but he is known 
 rather as a subject for poetry than as a poet. Remaining 
 faithful to the lady of his affections, even after her marriage to 
 another, he was put into prison. Confinement did not ex- 
 tinguish his ardent passion ; he continued to sing his love in 
 his native Galician tongue. Exasperated by his persistence, 
 his successful rival slew him in his cell by hurling a javelin 
 through the window. Few only of his verses have been pre- 
 served, and, judging by them, the faithful lover was an in- 
 different poet, but his fate inspired poets as widely separated 
 in date as Villena his master in the fifteenth and Gongora in 
 the seventeenth century. His name became proverbial, his 
 story is alluded to by almost all the great Spanish writers, and 
 formed the theme of Larra's (see p. 249) novel, El doncel de 
 Don Enrique el Doliente, in the present century. 
 
 A poet more worthy of the name is the Marque's of Santil- 
 lana, whom we have mentioned in connection with the early 
 history of the drama, and must mention again in connection with 
 proverbs. After taking an important part in the military and 
 political life of his time, he found leisure in his old age to com- 
 pose a large number of books of uneven merit, among which is a 
 poem in praise of Villena, and one on the crowning of Mossen 
 Jordi, the troubadour. To him and to Alfonso el Sabio is 
 owed the introduction of the sonnet into Spanish, but he 
 handles this form in an uncouth and incorrect fashion. His 
 didactic works, both his Centiloquio, or one hundred proverbial 
 precepts, addressed to the Infante Don Enrique, and his 
 
^ 
 
 74 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Doctriiial de Privados (Warnings to Court Favourites), are 
 dignified and correct in tone ; they contain the wide experience 
 of a man of the world. The latter is probably inspired by the 
 fate of Alvaro de Luna, whom Santillana had always strongly 
 opposed. It is, however, in poetry of a lighter kind that the 
 Marques de Santillana attains his highest claim to fame. His 
 Serranilla (see p. 28), addressed to a milkmaid {vaguer a) of La 
 Finojosa, is the best that exists in the language. While closely 
 imitating Provencal models, it has a simplicity and charm of its 
 own, which entitles it to a place in every Spanish anthology. 
 
 1 Moza tan fermosa Que fuese vaquera 
 
 Non vi en la frontera De la Finojosa. 
 
 Como una vaquera Non creo las rosas 
 
 De la Finojosa. De la primavera 
 
 Faciendo la via Sean tan fermosas 
 
 De Calateveno Nin de tal manera. 
 
 A Santa Maria Fablando sin glosa 
 
 Vencido del sueno, Si antes supiera 
 
 Por tierra fragosa Daquella vaquera 
 
 Perdi la carrera De la Finojosa, 
 
 Do vi la vaquera Non tanto mirara 
 
 De la Finojosa. Su mucha beldad, 
 
 En un verde prado Porque me dejara 
 
 De rosas e flores En mi libertad. 
 
 Guardando ganado Mas dixe, donosa, 
 
 Con otros pastores, Por saber quien era 
 
 La vi tan fermosa Aquella vaquera 
 
 Que apenas creyera De la Finojosa. 
 
 1 " So pretty a girl — on the border ne'er saw I, — as a milkmaid — of la Fino- 
 josa. — Journeying along — from Calateveno to Santa Marfa — weighed down 
 with sleep, — in the rocky land — I lost my way, — there saw I the milkmaid — 
 of la Finojosa — In a meadow green — of roses and flowers — tending the herd 
 — with other shepherds, — so pretty was she — that scarce could I believe — 
 that she was a milkmaid — of la Finojosa. — I cannot believe — that the roses — 
 of spring — are so beautiful (as she) — nor her equals. — I speak not in jest, — 
 had I known beforehand — of that milkmaid — of la Finojosa,* — I had not 
 gazed so much — on her great beauty, — and so she had left me — my liberty. 
 — But I said ' My pretty maid,' — that I might learn who was — that milk- 
 maid — of la Finojosa." 
 
 * I have found myself obliged to alter the punctuation here. With the full stop as 
 placed by Sanchez the passage does not make sense. 
 
POETRY OF THE XV. CENTURY 75 
 
 Santillana has also left one of the most important literary 
 documents of his time, in his Letter to the Constable of 
 Portugal. This brief treatise accompanied a copy of its 
 author's poems sent by request to the young Prince Don Pedro 
 about the year 1445. In it Santillana gives an interesting 
 account of several of the poets who were his contemporaries 
 or predecessors. It is to be noticed that he ascribes much 
 importance to Galician and Portuguese influences. Speaking 
 of this district of the Peninsula, he says, " It is certain that 
 here the practice of this (poetical) science was more general 
 than in any other region or province of Spain ; so much so 
 that, until lately, all bards (decidores) and minstrels (trovadores) 
 of our country, whether Castilians, Andalucians, or natives of 
 Extremadura, composed all their works in the Galician tongue." 
 
 Juan de Mena was an erudite court poet of the time of 
 Juan II. In his youth he had studied in the Italian univer- 
 sities, and his works contain little or nothing that is distinctively 
 Spanish. It is difficult to understand the wide popularity 
 which they enjoyed for more than two hundred years. The 
 king himself was Mena's friend and patron, and is said to have 
 habitually kept his Laberinto, or Tresczentas, by his bedside. 
 This work takes the first of its two names from its enigmatical 
 obscurity ; the second from the fact that it originally contained 
 three hundred stanzas; to these sixty -five were afterwards 
 added by the king's request in order to make the number 
 equal to that of the days of the year, a whim well suited to the 
 astrological conceits in which the poem deals. It is written in 
 the form of a dream ; the poet is transported in a magic car 
 into space, where he beholds three circles representing severally 
 the Present, the Past, and the Future. This vision affords an 
 opportunity for commenting in mysterious and pedantic style 
 upon various historical personages, who are classed according to 
 the "seven orders of the planets," and their supposed influences. 
 So obscure, indeed, are the verses that a lengthy commentary 
 
s 
 
 76 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 on them was published shortly after their appearance by the 
 celebrated scholar, Fernan Nunez, surnamed the Comendador 
 Griego. Juan de Mena makes his style still more heavy and 
 pedantic by the wholesale introduction of Latin words, and of con- 
 structions entirely foreign to the genius of the Castilian language. 
 In this particular he is not the first offender, but his great repu- 
 tation undoubtedly did much to promote the vicious habit. 
 
 Besides the Trescientas, Mena wrote a panegyric or Corona- 
 tion de Santillana, a poem on the Seven Mortal Sins, and some 
 songs. The following is a specimen of the least obscure of his 
 verses, a Cancibn to his lady : — 
 
 1 Oiga tu merced y crea, 
 ; Ay de quien nunca te vido ! 
 Hombre que tu gesto vea 
 Nunca puede ser perdido. 
 Ya la tu sola virtud, 
 Fermosura sin medida, 
 Es mi todo bien y vida 
 Con esfuerco de salud : 
 
 > 
 
 Quien tu vista ver dessea 
 Fablara no en fingido, 
 Hombre que tu gesto vea 
 Nunca puede ser perdido. 
 Pues tu vista me saluo, 
 Cesse tu sana tan fuerte ; 
 Pues que, senora, de muerte 
 Tu figura me libro, 
 Bien dira qualquier que sea, 
 Sin temor de ser vencido, 
 Hombre que tu gesto vea 
 Nunca puede ser perdido. 
 
 1 " Listen I beg thee, and believe ; — alas for him who never saw thee ! — the 
 man that once thy face beholds — can never be undone. — Thy wondrous pro- 
 perties alone, — Oh beauty without peer ! — form my whole wealth and life— 
 and all my strenuous health ; — he who would see thy countenance — will say in 
 sober earnest, — the man that once thy face beholds — can never be undone. — 
 Since it was thy countenance that redeemed me, — let thy fierce anger cease ; — 
 since, lady mine, from death— thy face hath freed me, — well can men say, 
 whoever they be, — and fear no contradiction, — the man that once thy face 
 beholds — can never be undone." 
 
POETRY OF THE XV. CENTURY 77 
 
 Standing out boldly amidst the artificial style and hollow 
 sentiment of the poets of this time, it is a relief to meet with 
 one simple, natural, and dignified composition. This is the 
 celebrated elegy of Jorge Manrique on the death of his father, 
 known as the Coplas de Manrique. Its tone contrasts as 
 strongly with that of the other works of its author, as with that 
 of his contemporaries. It has always been admired in Spain, 
 and has been many times translated, but still stands as an 
 abiding proof of the superiority of Spanish to other languages 
 as an instrument for poetry of a grave and lofty character. 
 Camoens imitated it ; Lope de Vega speaks of it with the 
 highest praise ; even the severe Mariana waxes eloquent over 
 its beauties. Jorge Manrique was the last scion of a noble 
 house, distinguished in arms, in politics, and in literature. 
 Like so many of the greatest writers of his country, he was a 
 soldier: he died fighting heroically in 1479. The Coplas 
 convey the reflections of a simple and noble mind upon the 
 vanity of human affairs and upon death. The first part is full 
 of the sadness caused by the recollection of past grandeur and 
 delights. Gradually the tone becomes more submissive, and 
 finally the writer turns his eyes to the abiding life beyond the 
 grave, with feelings of hope and longing. The versification 
 and language correspond admirably with the tone of the poem. 
 The former has been well compared to the tolling of a deep- 
 toned bell. 
 
 The Coplas_de_Manrique deserve a place amongst the finest 
 verses, not only of the author's native land, but of the world. 
 As an elegy they are unsurpassed. Space allows only eight 
 out of the stanzas of which the poem consists to be given here. 
 
 1 Recuerde el alma dormida, Como se passa la vida 
 
 Avive el seso y despierte Como se viene la muerte 
 
 Contemplando Tan callando ; 
 
 1 "Thou slumbering soul, take heed, — lethargic mind, awake — and con- 
 template — how life is passing by — how death is creeping on — silently. — How 
 
73 
 
 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Quan presto se va el placer, 
 Como despues de acordado 
 
 Da dolor ; 
 Como a nuestro parecer 
 Cualquiera tiempo passado 
 
 Fue mejor. 
 
 Nuestras vidas son los rios 
 Que van a dar en la mar 
 
 Que es el morir ; 
 Alii van los senorios 
 Derechos a se acabar 
 
 Y consumir. 
 Alii los rios caudales, 
 Alii los otros medianos 
 
 Y mas chicos. 
 Allegados son iguales 
 
 Los que viven por sus manos 
 
 Y los ricos. 
 
 Este mundo es el camino 
 Para el otro, que es morada 
 
 Sin pesar : 
 Mas cumple tener buen tino 
 Para andar esta Jornada 
 
 Sin errar. 
 Partimos quando nacemos 
 Andamos quando vivimos 
 
 Y allegamos 
 
 Al tiempo que fenecemos : 
 Asi que quando morimos 
 Descansamos. 
 
 Aquel de buenos abrigo. 
 Amado por virtuoso 
 
 De la gente, 
 El maestre don Rodrigo 
 Manrrique tan famoso 
 
 Y tan valiente, 
 Sus grandes hechos y claros 
 No cumple que los alabe, 
 
 Pues los vieron ; 
 Ni los quiero hazer caros, 
 Pues el mundo todo sabe 
 
 Quales fueron. 
 
 Despues que puso la vida 
 Tantas veces por su ley 
 
 Al tablero, 
 Despues que tan bien servida 
 La corona de su rey 
 
 Verdadero : 
 Despues de tanta hazana 
 En que no puede bastar 
 
 Cuenta cierta, 
 En la su villa de Ocana 
 Vino la muerte a llamar 
 
 A su puerta, 
 
 quickly pleasure flies, — how, afterwards, the thought of it — is pain ; — how to 
 our seeming, — any of the years that are gone — was more sweet. — Our lives 
 are as the rivers — that flow into the sea — which is death ; — thither go the 
 lordly ones — straight to be ended — and swallowed up. — Thither the mighty 
 streams — others of smaller size — and the rills. — There all are equal — those who 
 labour with their hands, — and the rich. — This world is but a road — towards 
 the other, which is a home — free from grief ; — but good heed must he take — 
 who would accomplish this journey — without fail. — Our birth is the setting 
 forth, — in life we journey on, — and reach our goal — at the hour of our 
 decease ; — so it is that when we die — we have rest. . , . — Protector of the 
 good, — for virtue high esteemed — by his fellows, — the constable Rodrigo — 
 Manrique of high fame, — valiant knight. — his mighty deeds renowned, — why 
 should I praise them here? — they are known. — Nor would I extol their worth, 
 — for every one knows well — of what sort they were. — When he had staked 
 his life — so often for his creed — on a throw ; — after such faithful service — to 
 the crown and to the king, — as of right : — so many mighty deeds — they can- 
 not all be told — without fail, — in Ocana his own town — came death to him 
 
POETRY OF THE XV. CENTURY 
 
 79 
 
 Diciendo : buen cavallero, 
 Dexad al mundo enganoso 
 
 Con halago, 
 Vuestro corazon de acero 
 Muestre su esfuerzo famoso 
 
 En este trago. 
 Pues que de vida y salud 
 Tan poca cuenta hicistis 
 
 Por la fama, 
 Esfuerceos la virtud 
 Para sufrir esta afrenta 
 
 Que vos llama. 
 
 El vivir, que es perdurable, 
 No se gana con estados 
 
 Mundanales, 
 Ni con vida deleitable 
 Donde moran los pecados 
 
 Infernales, 
 
 Mas los buenos religiosos 
 Gananlo con oraciones 
 
 Y con lloros, 
 
 Los cavalleros famosos 
 Con trabajos y aflicciones 
 Contra moros. 
 
 Asi, con tal entender, 
 Todos sentidos humanos 
 
 Conservados, 
 Cercado de su muger 
 De sus hijos y hermanos 
 
 Y criados, 
 
 Dio el alma a quien se la dio, 
 El cual le ponga en el cielo 
 
 Y en su gloria ; 
 Aunque a la vida murio, 
 Nos dexo harto consuelo 
 
 Su memoria. 
 
 and knocked — on his gate — saying, brave knight, — leave this deceitful world 
 — and vain, — let not thy bold heart fail — to drink courageously — this bitter 
 cup — Since of thy life and health — so little store thou madest — for renown, — 
 let thy valour make thee bold — to endure the sentence harsh — and its claim. 
 . . . — The life which is eternal — is not gained with pomp or wealth — of 
 this world, — nor by the life of ease — where hideous sins abound — sprung 
 from hell ; — but the faithful anchorites — gain it by their prayers — and their 
 tears, — and the famous knights — by their labours and heaviness — against the 
 infidel. Thus, then, strong in such faith, — all his faculties — unimpaired, — 
 surrounded by his wife, — his sons and brethren, — and dependents, — he gave 
 his soul to him who gave it ; — may he place it in the heavens — and in glory ; 
 — though he died to mortal life — he left to banish vain regrets — his memory." 
 
 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE NOVEL 
 
 During the period that preceded the reign of the Catholic 
 monarchs and the Golden Age of Spanish literature it is 
 evident that, as the national horizon widens, the forms of 
 literary composition hitherto cultivated are becoming less and 
 less adequate to supply the increasing demand for something 
 new. Poetry has become erudite and metaphysical in tone, 
 and the imitation of classical and Italian models has rendered 
 it uncongenial to the popular taste ; books of chivalry are still 
 written and continue to be widely read, but their heroes are 
 becoming less and less like human beings, and the world in 
 which they live is ever less like that inhabited by mortals 
 unendowed with superhuman strength, and unaided by the all- 
 powerful enchanters who in each new volume play a larger 
 part in these extravagant histories of monstrous exploits. The 
 sixteenth century is justly counted as the period which saw the 
 rise both of the novel and of the drama in Spain ; traces, how- 
 ever, of either form may be found earlier, and these must be 
 briefly examined in order to understand their later develop- 
 ments. 
 
 In the novel, as almost everywhere in the literature of the 
 fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, Italian influence is distinctly 
 traceable in the beginning, and it continues so throughout the 
 large class of fantastic books known as pastoral novels. But 
 
THE NOVEL Si 
 
 the Spaniards created a kind of story peculiar in its origin to 
 the Peninsula, though afterwards imitated with great success 
 by writers of other nationalities, and notably by Le Sage. 
 This is the novelet picaresca or "rogue story." 
 
 The earliest Spanish novels, if we except the books of 
 chivalry, are allegorical in form ; they belong to neither of the 
 above-mentioned classes, but are a kind of offshoot of the 
 romance of chivalry. One of the first is the Siervo libre de 
 Amor (The Free Slave of Love), by Rodriguez del Padrdn, a 
 troubadour who ended his life as a hermit in the Holy Land. 
 It is a work of little merit and of less originality. In imitation 
 of Dante it is written in the form of a dream, in which abstrac- 
 tions such as Understanding and Discretion play an important 
 part ; but it launches out into a regular romance of chivalry, 
 of which the plot is formed by the ill-starred loves and super- 
 natural adventures of Ardanlier and Liesa. The book is 
 arbitrarily divided into three periods, according as the author's 
 love is reciprocated, disregarded, and extinguished. Finally 
 he is roused from his trance, and verses in the style of the 
 more purely pastoral novels of later times, expressive of a 
 lover's despair, conclude this tedious and ill-told story. 
 
 Another book of a like character is the Cdrcel de Amor 
 (Prison of Love), by Diego de San Pedro, a poet of the 
 fifteenth century. Here, by means of the usual vision, Love 
 is represented as a tyrant who employs his minister Desire in 
 torturing his votaries. In the affairs of one of these the author 
 in person intervenes ; the lover is restored to the upper world, 
 and, after a series of fantastic adventures, meets at last an 
 unhappy end, being slain by the coldness of his lady, whose 
 honour has most unjustly been called in question. 
 
 In 1492 was published a book of real originality, important 
 alike in the history of the novel and of the drama. This is 
 the celebrated Celestina or Tragicomedia de Calisto y Melibea. 
 It is said to have been begun by Rodrigo de Cota and finished 
 
 G 
 
82 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 
 by Fernando de Rojas, but, in spite of the opinion of Juan 
 de Valdes, who says that the wit of the first author is superior 
 to that of him who wrote the latter part, the evenness of its 
 very distinctive style, and the thorough consistency of the 
 characters throughout, make it difficult to believe that it is the 
 work of more than one person. Fernando de Rojas, whose 
 name appears in an acrostic at the end, may well have wished 
 to make some one else responsible, in part at least, for the 
 questionable incidents in which the work abounds. The plot 
 is developed entirely in dialogue, and the word Tragkomedta, 
 which appears in the title, is justified by the author, who 
 declares the book to be a comedy with an unhappy ending. 
 In spite of its dramatic form, the work is not well adapted 
 for theatrical representation, especially with the scanty stage 
 appliances of the time. The great length, moreover, of its 
 twenty-one acts, as well as the long tirades which occur, and 
 the moral reflections with which it ends, make it improbable 
 that it was written with such a purpose. It is however unsafe, 
 as will be seen later, to gauge the tastes of a Spanish audience 
 by the rules which would apply to a French or English one. 
 
 In the first chapter Calisto is scornfully rejected by Melibea, 
 the lady of his love, who is somewhat his superior in social 
 position ; he is comforted by his servant Sempronio, who 
 advises him to apply to Celestina, an old woman, half witch, 
 half go-between, whose agency has often before been success- 
 fully employed by lovers. Celestina undertakes the affair, 
 and makes a hard bargain for her services. She subsequently 
 contrives to introduce herself into the house of Pleberio, the 
 rich father of Melibea, but is dismissed somewhat harshly by 
 the lady. Concealing her want of success, she presents to 
 Calisto a love-token purporting to come from Melibea. On 
 repeating her visit, she is more successful, and obtains from 
 Melibea a confession of her love for Calisto. A meeting is 
 arranged between the lovers, and Melibea's virtue yields with 
 
THE NOVEL 
 
 an extraordinary facility that unhappily is not rare in Spanish 
 stories. But swift retribution is at hand. Celestina is mur- 
 dered by her associates, with whom she has quarrelled over 
 the spoil. Calisto is surprised during an interview with his 
 mistress, and is killed by falling from the ladder by which he 
 is attempting to make his escape. Melibea commits suicide 
 by leaping from a lofty tower before the eyes of her 
 father. 
 
 The following dialogue which passes between Sempronio 
 and Parmeno, the two serving gentlemen (escuderos) of Calisto, 
 while awaiting their master outside Pleberio's house, bears a 
 striking likeness to those which enliven similar situations in 
 the ' cloak and sword plays ' of the seventeenth century. 
 
 1 Semp. Ya no temas, Parmeno, que harto desviados estamos, y en 
 sintiendo builicio, el buen huir nos ha de valer. Dejale hacer que, si mal 
 hace, el lo pagara. 
 
 Parm. Bien hablas, en mi corazon estas ; asi se haga, huyamos la 
 muerte, que somos mozos : que no querer morir ni matar no es cobardia, 
 sino buen natural. Estos escuderos de Pleberio son locos ; no desean 
 tanto comer ni dormir como cuestiones y ruidos : pues mas locura seria 
 esperar pelea con enemigos que no aman tanto la victoria y vencimiento 
 como la continua guerra y contienda ; \ Oh si me vieses, hermano, como 
 estoy, placer habrias ! A medio lado, abiertas las piernas, el pie izquierdo 
 adelante en huida, las haldas en cinta, la adarga arrollada y so el sobaco, 
 porque no me empache : que por Dios creo que fuese como un gamo segun 
 el temor que tengo de estar aqui. 
 
 1 ' ' Semp. Thou needest fear no longer, Parmeno, for we are well out of the 
 way and, if we hear any uproar, the swiftness of our heels will stand us in 
 good stead. Let him be, for if he does ill, 'tis he who will pay for it. 
 
 Parm. Wise words indeed, and after my own heart ; so be it ; let us flee 
 from death, for we are still young : unwillingness to kill or to be killed is not 
 cowardice but springs rather from a kindly disposition. These serving 
 gentlemen of Pleberio are madmen ; eating and drinking are less dear to them 
 than quarrels and strife ; we should be even more mad than they, were we to 
 await a struggle with enemies whose object is rather continual war and oppo- 
 sition than victory and the discomfiture of their adversaries. Oh, gossip, it 
 would do thy heart good to see my attitude ! Facing half round ; legs well 
 apart ; left foot forward to run ; my skirts in my belt ; my target rolled up 
 and tucked under my arm so that it may not hinder me ; by heaven, I 
 should go off like a buck, such is the fear I have of remaining here. 
 
84 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Semp. Mejor estoy yo, que tengo liado el broquel y el espada con la 
 correas porque no se cayga al correr, y el caxquete en la capilla. 
 Parm. i Y las piedras que traias en ella ? 
 
 Semp. Todas las verti por ir mas liviano, que harto tengo que llevar en 
 estas corazas que me heciste vestir por importunidad ; que bien las rehusaba 
 de traer, porque me parescian para huir muy pesadas. Escucha, escucha 
 ,-oyes, Parmeno? A malas andan ; muertos somos. Bota presto ; echa 
 hacia casa de Celestina, no nos atajen por nuestra casa. 
 
 farm. Huye, huye, que corres poco ; i Oh, pecador de mi ! si nos han 
 de alcanzar ; deja el broquel y todo. 
 Semp. i Si han muerto a nuestro amo ? 
 
 Parm. No se, no digas nada : corre y calla ; que el menor cuidado mio 
 es ese. 
 
 Semp. Ce, ce, Parmeno ; torna, torna callando, que no es sino la gente 
 del alguacil que pasaba haciendo estruendo por otra calle. 
 
 Parm. Miralo bien : no te fies en los ojos que se les antoja muchas 
 veces uno por otro. No me habian dejado gota de sangre : tragada tenia 
 ya la muerte, que me parescia que me iban dando en estas espaldas golpes. 
 En mi vida me acuerdo haber tan gran temor, ni verme en tal afrenta 
 aunque he andado casas agenas harto tiempo, y en lugares de harto 
 trabajo ; que nueve anos servi a los frayles de Guadalupe, que mil veces nos 
 apuneabamos yo y otros ; pero nunca como esta vez hube miedo de morir. 
 
 Semp. I am even better prepared, for I have tied my buckler and sword 
 together with the straps so that they may not fall as I run : I have got my 
 steel cap in the hood of my cloak. 
 
 Parm. What of the stones that thou broughtest in it ? 
 
 Semp. I threw them all away so that I might go the lighter. As it is I 
 have too much to carry with this buff coat that thou madest me wear by thy 
 obstinacy ; how right I was to object to bring it, for it seemed to me very 
 heavy for running away in ! Hark, hark ! Dost thou not hear, Parmeno ? 
 Something untoward is taking place ; we are dead men. Throw quickly : 
 make for Celestina' s house lest they cut us off from our own. 
 
 Parm. Flee, flee, for thou runnest but poorly. Ah ! sinner that I am ! 
 think if they were to catch us ! Drop thy buckler and everything. 
 
 Semp. I wonder if they have slain our master. 
 
 Parm. I know not : do not speak ; run, and hold thy tongue, for that is 
 the least of my cares. 
 
 Semp. Hist ! hist ! Parmeno, turn thee about in silence, for it is nought 
 but the watch that was tramping noisily along the other end of the street. 
 
 Parm. Look well. Trust not thine eyes for often do they take one thing 
 for another. Not a drop of blood was left in me ; I had already swallowed 
 the bitter draught of death : it seemed to me that they were already pummel- 
 ling this back of mine. Never in my life do I remember to have been thus 
 afraid, nor to have been in so much danger, though for long I have dwelt in 
 others' houses and in situations most laborious. Nine years I served the 
 friars of Guadelupe ; a thousand times I came to fisticuffs with my com- 
 panions, but never, as now, was I in peril of my life. 
 
THE NOVEL 85 
 
 Semp. 1 Y yo no send al cura de san Miguel, y al mesonero de la plaza, 
 y a Mollejas el hortelano ? Y tambien yo tenia mis cuestiones con los que 
 tiraban piedras a los pajaros que se asentaban en un alamo grande que tenia, 
 porque daiiaban la hortaliza. Pero guardete Dios de verte con armas, que 
 aquel es el verdadero temor ; no en balde dicen cargado de hierro, cargado 
 de miedo. Vuelve, vuelve, que el alguacil es cierto. 
 
 Such is the outline of the plot of this remarkable book, but 
 the incidents and episodes, the loves and quarrels of the 
 servants, and the low life surrounding Celestina generally, 
 form a wonderfully vigorous picture of manners, and constitute 
 its most valuable part. Cervantes speaks of it somewhat enig- 
 matically in the verses prefixed to Don Quixote, calling it " a 
 book that in my opinion were divine, did it conceal more care- 
 fully the human element." 1 Yet it is just this human tone, 
 and the bold step taken by the author in cutting himself oft 
 from tradition and seeking his subject in the everyday life of 
 his time, that gives the book its special worth. The style is 
 animated, lucid, correct, and idiomatic, and is mentioned 
 with the highest praise by almost all the best Spanish 
 critics. 
 
 The Celestina aided the development of the drama by 
 giving the Spaniards the first specimen in their own language 
 of easy and natural dialogue in which a plot is worked out. 
 In the servants' characters may be found distinct traces of the 
 gracioso or comic character who plays so large a part on the 
 Spanish stage, and afterwards becomes stereotyped in Calderon's 
 plays. 
 
 The Celestina may also be looked on as the earliest example 
 
 Semp. And did I not serve the priest of San Miguel, and the tavern-keeper in 
 the market-place, and Mollejas the gardener ? I too had my differences with 
 those who throw stones at the birds that were wont to settle in a great elm of 
 his : for they used to damage the green-stuff. But heaven preserve us from 
 bearing arms, for that is terrible indeed. Well does the proverb say ' A 
 burden of steel is a burden of fears. ' Come back, come back. It is without 
 doubt the watch. . . ." 
 
 1 ' ' Libro en mi opini6n divino, 
 Si encubriera mas lo humano." 
 
r 66 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 of the " picaresque " novel. Its popularity is proved by the 
 innumerable editions, translations, imitations, and adaptations 
 to which it gave rise. 
 
 The success of the Celestina did not destroy the popular 
 taste for literary food of a milder and more insipid character. 
 The origin of the pastoral novel is probably to be found in the 
 late Greek writers, but the Spanish works of this class are 
 inspired by, if not directly imitated from, the Arcadia of the 
 Italian Sannazaro (sixteenth century). The first and most 
 celebrated of these is the Diana Enamorada, by Jorge de Monte- 
 mayor, a Portuguese. It is written partly in Castilian and 
 partly in the author's native language, and was first published 
 at Madrid in 1545. The scene is the banks of the river Esla 
 in Leon, a region infested by troops of lackadaisical shepherd- 
 lovers leading a most unnatural life. They speak in a courtly 
 and affected style, entirely unbefitting their station and sur- 
 roundings, and celebrate their successful love or lament their 
 woes in very indifferent verse. These nerveless personages 
 play a provoking game of cross -purposes until shuffled and 
 re-arranged in pairs by "the wise Felicia," a benevolent old 
 lady, possessing supernatural powers and inhabiting an en- 
 chanted palace in the neighbourhood. The chief merit of 
 Montemayor's work lies in its correct though somewhat inflated 
 prose. On the whole we may agree with the judgment of 
 Cervantes, who says, speaking through the mouth of the priest, 
 " Let all that treats of the wise Felicia and of the enchanted 
 water be cut out, together with almost all the longer passages 
 of verse, and let it retain, and welcome, the prose and the 
 honour of being the first of the books of its class." 
 
 Two more Diafias speedily made their appearance, desirous 
 of profiting by the great popularity of the first. Both were 
 published in the year 1564. One of them is called the Segunda 
 del Sala?nantino. It was written in accordance with the in- 
 structions of Montemayor, who had left his work unfinished, 
 
THE NOVEL 87 
 
 by Alonso Perez, a doctor of medicine of Salamanca. The 
 other is the Diana Enamorada of Gil Polo. Both these works 
 are carefully modelled on the first Diana. The verses of Polo 
 are certainly better than those of Montemayor and Perez, but 
 it is hard to understand why Cervantes draws such a marked 
 distinction between the two, condemning one to the flames 
 and recommending that the other should be preserved "as 
 though it were the work of Apollo himself." He was probably 
 pleading indirectly the cause of his own Galatea, of which 
 special mention will be made in the chapter devoted to his 
 writings. For both Cervantes himself and his great rival Lope 
 de Vega published pastoral novels neither better nor worse 
 than the other books of this class. It is curious to note that, 
 speaking of another novel of this kind, the Pastor de Filida 
 by Montalvo, which Lope also greatly admired, Cervantes praises 
 it for the very circumstance which would make a modern critic 
 disposed to condemn it, namely, the incompatibility of the 
 characters with their surroundings. He says, "This is no 
 shepherd, but a very discreet courtier ; let him be preserved 
 like a precious jewel." It is, however, certain that Cervantes 
 clearly saw the weakness of this artificial kind of composition, 
 for elsewhere he {Coloquio de los Perros) contrasts the rustic 
 songs and coarse manners of the shepherds of reality, who in 
 Spain are sometimes little better than savages, with the airs 
 and graces of the shepherds of the pastoral novels, and con- 
 cludes by saying "that all these books are pure imagination, 
 and are written for the amusement of the idle, but without a 
 particle of truth in them." Other celebrated books of the 
 kind are the Arcadia by Lope de Vega, Constante Amarilis 
 by Suarez de Figueroa, and the Siglo de Oro by Balbuena. 
 
 Side by side with the novelists of the pastoral school grew 
 up another class of writers of romance, whose conception of 
 the art is so entirely different that, if the works of both are to 
 be called novels, novel must mean little else than a work of 
 
88 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 imagination in prose. These were the writers of the picaresque 
 stories. Cervantes cultivated both branches, and the com- 
 parative degree of interest possessed by either class at the 
 present day may be best judged by those who have read both 
 his Galatea and his Rinconete y Cortadillo. The reason for 
 this is the same in both cases. The "rogue stories," equally 
 with the pastoral romances, had a common source in one great 
 work, and in both a great similarity may be traced among the 
 books included under the name. But in the case of the novela 
 picaresca the model was a genuinely national one, and the 
 very form of the story gives rise to an infinite variety of 
 episode. 
 
 The model referred to is the Lazarillo de Tonnes, ascribed, 
 though seemingly without proof of any kind, to Diego Hurtado 
 de Mendoza, a soldier, statesman, historian, and poet of the 
 good old Spanish type, who flourished during the reign of 
 Charles V. He is said to have written during his university 
 career (1520-23) the novel which, if really his, would constitute 
 his chief title to fame. It was first published anonymously 
 thirty years later at Antwerp. Lazarillo, like the pharos (rogues) 
 whose exploits are celebrated in the other books of the kind, 
 is a poor boy of disreputable parentage, who successively enters 
 the service of persons of all classes of society, and manages, 
 partly by adroit cheating and partly by flattering the vices of 
 his masters, to live in positions that would, to persons of less 
 resource and nicer sense of honour, be intolerable. He finally 
 becomes town-crier of Toledo, and it is in that honourable 
 position that the unfinished story leaves him. The most 
 amusing characters in the book are Lazarillo himself; the 
 blind beggar, his first master; the "pardoner," the amusing 
 description of whose unscrupulous proceedings brought down 
 on the book the wrath of the Inquisition ; and the escudero, or 
 poor gentleman, a type which, though modified by altered 
 surroundings, is not yet wholly extinct in Spain. Its most 
 
THE NOVEL 89 
 
 distinctive features are admirably summed up in the following 
 passage : — 
 
 1 Un dfa que habfamos comido razonablemente y estaba algo contento, 
 contome su hacienda, y dijome ser de Castilla la Yieja, y que habia dejado 
 su tierra no mas de por no quitar el bonete a un caballero, su vecino. 
 " Senor " dije yo " si el era lo que decis y tenia mas que vos no errabades 
 en quitarselo primero, pues decis que el tambien os lo quitaba." — " Si es, y>* 
 si tiene, y tambien me lo quitaba el a mi ; mas de cuantas veces'yo se le 
 quitaba primero, no fuera malo comedirse el alguna y ganarme por la mano 
 ... no sientes las cosas de la honra en que, el dia de hoy, es todo el 
 caudal de los hombres de bien . . . Mayormente no soy tan pobre que no 
 tengo en mi tierra un solar de casas, que a estar ellas en pie y bien labradas 
 . . . valdrfan mas de doscientos mil maravedis, segiin se podrian hacer 
 grandes y buenas. Y tengo un palomar que a no estar derribado, como 
 esta, daria cada ailo mas de doscientos palominos, y otras cosas que me callo 
 que deje por lo que tocaba a mi honra : y vine a esta ciudad pensando que 
 hallaria un buen asiento . . . Ya cuando asienta un hombre con un senor 
 de titulo todavia pasa su laceria ; pues por ventura no hay en mi habilidad 
 para servir y contentar a estos ? Por Dios si con el topase muy gran privado 
 suyo pienso que fuese, y que mil servicios le hiciese ; porque yo sabria men- 
 tille tan bien como otro, y agradalle a las mil maravillas ; reillehia mucho 
 sus donaires y costumbres, aunque no fuesen las mejores del mundo : nunca 
 
 1 " One day that we had dined reasonably well and he was in good spirits, 
 he told me his story, saying that he was a native of Old Castile and that he 
 had left his country only so as not to take off his cap to a gentleman, his 
 neighbour. ' Sir ' said I ' if he was, as you say, a gentleman, and richer 
 than you, you were not doing wrong in taking it off to him first, for you admit 
 that he used to take his hat off to you.' — ' He is and has more than I, and 
 moreover he used to take off his hat to me ; but, with all the times I took it 
 off to him first, it would have been well for him to have sometimes been so 
 polite as to forestall me . . . you know nought of these matters of honour . 
 which nowadays make up the whole resources of honourable men . . . More- 
 over I am not so poor but that I have in my own country a site for houses, 
 and, if they were erected and well built . . . they would be worth more than 
 200,000 maravedis, so large and good could they be made. And I have a 
 dovecote which, if it had not been pulled down, would produce yearly more 
 than 200 pigeons ; besides other matters that I do not mention. All this I 
 abandoned out of consideration for my honour ; and I came to this city 
 thinking that I should find a good position. . . . When a man takes service 
 with a gentleman of title he may stomach his hardships : What say you? Am 
 I not fitted to serve and to delight such persons ? By heaven, if I were to 
 find such a one, I would make myself his prime favourite and render him a 
 thousand services ; for I could tell him lies as well as another, and please him 
 amazingly. I would laugh at his quips and his habits, though they might not 
 be the best in the world ; I would never say anything that might displease him, 
 
90 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 decille cosa que le pesase, aunque mucho le cumpliese ; ser muy diligente 
 en su persona en dicho y hecho ; no me matar por no hacer bien las cosas 
 que el no habia de ver ; y ponerme a renir con la gente de servicio porque 
 pareciese gran cuidado de lo que a el tocaba . . . y muchas galas de esta 
 calidad, que hoy se usan en Palacio y a los senores de el parecen bien." 
 
 The whole story, consisting of only nine short chapters, is 
 lively and interesting in the extreme. It at once found favour 
 with the general public, and produced a host of imitators eager 
 to avail themselves of the wide field for imagination and satire 
 afforded by its simple form. 
 
 In 1555 a continuation of the Lazarillo by an anonymous 
 writer, who takes up the story where it had been left by its 
 original author, appeared at Antwerp. He entirely fails to 
 understand the character of the book he professes to continue, 
 and gives an absurd and dull account of the hero's submarine 
 adventures in the shape of a tunny fish. A teacher of the 
 Spanish language in Paris named Luna produced a Second Part 
 of Lazarillo de Tonnes in 1620. This is a book of considerably 
 more merit than the last named ; its style is correct and idio 
 matic ; some of the stories which it contains are amusing and 
 well told, but it lacks the brisk and natural tone of the original, 
 and is, in parts, coarsely indecent. 
 
 Mateo Aleman, who was employed in the finance depart- 
 ment in the time of Felipe II., attempted in his Guzman de 
 Alfarache (Madrid, 1599) to make the picaro serve a moral 
 purpose. In this he was not fully successful. His hero is a 
 prosy and contemptible personage who relates with much relish 
 and unction his own more than questionable adventures, with 
 the avowed object of dissuading others from following his evil 
 courses. When he gives play to his moralising tendencies he 
 
 though it were to his great advantage to do so ; I would be very diligent about 
 his person in word and deed, and would not trouble myself to do too well the 
 things that he would not see : and I would scold his servants that I might 
 appear very careful of all that concerned him . . . and exhibit many accom- 
 plishments of the kind, such as are now customary in great houses and are 
 esteemed by their owners.' " 
 
THE NOVEL 91 
 
 is always intolerably dull, as also in the episodical stories which 
 he frequently introduces. His attempts to be amusing often 
 produce disgust. Guzman is no gay scamp like Lazarillo, but a 
 canting scoundrel of very low tastes. If, however, the sermons 
 with which the book is interlarded are cut out, it cannot fail 
 to interest as a somewhat exaggerated and highly - coloured 
 account of the life of the author's contemporaries in their own 
 country and in Italy. Properly used it may serve to illustrate 
 the ' cloak and sword drama ' of the succeeding century. 
 
 Aleman, like Cervantes in his Don Quixote, promised a 
 second part of his book, and like him he was forestalled ; like 
 him also he held up the author of the spurious second part to 
 contempt in his own continuation. Of these two continuations 
 of the worn-out story it is enough to say that Aleman, in his 
 Second Part of Guzmdn de Alfarache, exaggerates the faults and 
 minimises the scanty merits of his first attempt ; and that the 
 work of Mateo Lujan de Saavedra, as the forger calls himself, 
 is the worse of the two. 
 
 During the seventeenth century a whole series of stories of this 
 kind was published. Among them the most worthy of notice are 
 La Picara Justina, by Lopez de Ubeda, which relates the story 
 of a daughter of Celestina ; Lazarillo de Manza?iares, a base 
 imitation of the original Lazarillo, by Juan Cortes de Tolosa ; 
 Marcos de Obregbn, a well-written and readable book, by Vicente 
 Espinel (16 18), in which the author gives a witty account of 
 many of the adventures of his own chequered career as a soldier 
 in Flanders and vagabond in Spain. Espinel, who subsequently 
 became a priest, is the reputed inventor of the metrical form 
 called decimas or espinelas. El Donado Hablador by Geronimo 
 de Alcala, La Gardufia de Sevilla by Salorzano (1654), and the 
 Gran Tacaiio of Quevedo, all belong to this class ; the latter, 
 as well as the Rinconete y Cortadillo, and the "novels of adven- 
 ture " of Cervantes, will be specially mentioned in the chapters 
 devoted to their authors. To the student of the social history 
 
 ■ - 
 
92 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 of the age which produced them, these books are invaluable ; 
 as works of imagination they are generally tame and lacking in 
 interest ; their popularity died out, never to return, on the first 
 appearance of the modern novel. 
 
 While speaking of the novel, mention must be made of two 
 curious attempts at, or rather forerunners of, the historical 
 novel. The first is the short and well- written Story of the 
 Abencerraje and the beautiful Jarifa, by Antonio de Villegas 
 (1565). This is the legend, known to us by the Romancero, 
 and probably founded on fact, of how a Moorish knight of the 
 noble family of the Abencerrages, while on his way to pay a 
 nightly visit to his lady, was captured by Rodrigo de Narvaez, 
 the chivalrous alcaide or governor of the fortress of Antiquera. 
 Taking pity on his distress, the alcaide generously releases his 
 prisoner on parole ; the Moor shows himself worthy of the con- 
 fidence placed in his honour by returning to captivity, bringing 
 with him the lady ; after which the pair are happily married. 
 
 The second is the Wars of Granada, by Gines Perez de 
 Hita (Fi?'st Part Saragossa, 1595), consisting of two books of 
 entirely different character. The first is an almost purely 
 imaginary account of the internal troubles at Granada during 
 the period preceding its conquest (1492). The doughty single- 
 handed fights in the vega or fertile plain outside the city 
 between the chivalrous Moslem and Christian champions, the 
 loves of the Moorish knights and ladies, and the gallant shows 
 and tournaments celebrated in the city, are described with 
 great detail as to costume and manners, but apparently with 
 total ignorance of Oriental customs and disregard for historical 
 accuracy. The second part treats of the celebrated rebellion 
 of the oppressed Moriscos (subject Moors) against the harsh 
 rule of Felipe II. In the suppression of this rising the author 
 took part ; but even here he draws largely upon his imagination 
 for his facts, and serving as he did in an inferior capacity, he 
 is often obliged merely to repeat the rumour of the camp as to 
 
THE NOVEL 93 
 
 movements and events which he did not fully understand. It 
 is interesting to compare his account of the last struggle of the 
 Moors with those by Diego Hurtado de Mendoza and Luis 
 de Carvajal, the historians of this cruel and bloody war of 
 extermination. Hita's style is elegant and natural, and by 
 its modern tone and artless simplicity recalls that of Santa 
 Teresa. 
 
 The "novel of adventures" is but poorly represented in 
 Spanish. Cervantes' Novelets eje??ipiares are by far the best 
 representatives of the class, unless indeed Marcos de Obrego?i 
 be reckoned as belonging to it rather than to the "rogue 
 stories." Wearisome and colourless as are the stories of Fran- 
 cisco Santos, Gonzalo de Cespedes, and Maria de Zayas in the 
 seventeenth century, they are utterly outdone in absurdity by the 
 Various Prodigies of Love, published by Isidro de Robles, and 
 containing five stories, the chief distinction of which is that in 
 each of them severally one of the five vowels does not any- 
 where appear. 
 
 S 
 
4< 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 MYSTIC AND RELIGIOUS WRITERS 
 
 Mysticism in some of its forms is as old as the religions of 
 the East; it appears in Plato, in St. Thomas Aquinas, and 
 above all in the De Lnitatione Christi. In Germany it was 
 cultivated at an early date, and previous to the authors we are 
 about to mention Spain had produced Ramon Lull, in whose 
 writings distinct traces of this spirit may be found. Mysticism, 
 standing " half-way between belief and understanding, between 
 faith and science," 1 is the direct outcome of asceticism and the 
 contemplative life. Its details vary considerably in different 
 ages and different countries, but its characteristic feature is 
 always a belief in the direct communication of the purified 
 soul with its ideal, or with its God. This is regarded by the 
 mystic not as a supernatural state, but as the sure reward 
 of a certain degree of perfection. As the soul becomes 
 more and more detached from the things of this world, 
 so does its intercourse with the Divine Love become more 
 and more immediate. Santa Teresa, by means of the fol- 
 lowing allegory, in which the grace of God is compared to 
 water in a dry land, describes the three degrees or stages of 
 prayer which must be passed through before the highest 
 state can be reached. 
 
 1 Menendez y Pelayo, Historia de las Ideas estdticas en Espafia. 
 
MYSTIC AND RELIGIOUS WRITERS 95 
 
 1 Pues veamos ahora de la manera que se puede regar para que entenda- 
 mos lo que hemos de hacer y el trabajo que nos ha de costar, si es mayor la 
 ganancia, u hasta que tanto tiempo se ha de tener. Pareceme a mi que se 
 puede regar de cuatro maneras ; li con sacar el agua de un pozo, que es a 
 nuestro gran trabajo ; u con noria y arcaduces, que se saca con un torno 
 (yo la he sacado algunas veces), es a menos trabajo que estotro y sacase mas 
 agua ; li de un rio u arroyo, esto se riega muy mijor, que queda mas harta 
 la tierra de agua, y no se ha menster regar tan a menudo, y es menos trabajo 
 mucho del hortelano ; ii con Hover mucho, que lo riega el Seiior sin trabajo 
 ninguno nuestro, y es muy sin comparacion mijor que todo lo que queda 
 dicho. Ahora pues, aplicadas estas cuatro maneras de agua, de que se ha 
 de sustentar este huerto, porque sin ella perderse ha, es lo que a mi me 
 hace al caso, y ha parecido que se podra declarar algo de cuatro grados de 
 oracion en que el Senor por su bondad ha puesto algunas veces mi alma. 
 Plega a su bondad atine a decirlo, de manera que aproveche a uno de las 
 personas que esto me mandaron escribir, que la ha traido el Seiior en cuatro 
 meses harto mas adelante que yo estaba en diez y siete aiios : hase dispuesto 
 mijor y ansi sin trabajo suyo riega este verjel con todas estas cuatro aguas ; 
 aunque la postrera aun no se le da sino a gotas, mas va de suerte que pronto 
 se engolfara en ella con ayuda del Seiior ; y gustare que se ria, si le pare- 
 ciere desatino la manera de el declarar. 
 
 The spirit of mysticism, as might be expected, reveals itself 
 most frequently in persons of nervous and somewhat morbid 
 
 1 " So then let us now see what are the manners of watering in order to 
 understand how we must act, and what amount of labour it will cost us, 
 whether the gain be greater, or how long it will be ours. To me it appears 
 that watering may be done in four ways ; either by drawing the water from a 
 well which is heavy toil to us ; or by the water-wheel and cups which draws 
 it with a windlass (I have drawn it thus myself more than once), this is less 
 toilsome than the other way and more water is thereby drawn ; or from a 
 river or stream (by channels), thus the watering is better done, the earth is 
 more saturated with water, and it is not needful to do it so often, and the 
 labour of the gardener is greatly lightened ; or by abundant rain which the 
 Lord sends to water the earth without any toil of ours, and which is incom- 
 parably better than all that we have said. Applying then these four manners 
 of giving water wherewith this garden must be refreshed, for otherwise it will 
 be lost, my purpose is and my hope that something may be learned of 
 the four degrees of prayer in which the Lord of His bounty has sometimes 
 placed my soul. May it please His goodness that I succeed in declaring it in 
 such wise that it be profitable to one of those who bid me write this book, and 
 whom the Lord has brought in four months to greater advancement than I 
 gained in seventeen years : He hath ordained better, and thus without labour 
 of the possessor He waters this garden in all the four manners ; but the fourth 
 until now is only vouchsafed in drops, yet such is the progress that soon it will 
 be drenched with it by the help of the Lord : and I shall rejoice if that person 
 smiles at my manner of explanation, if it seems to him absurd." 
 
96 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 disposition, with bodies worn down by fasting and penance. 
 The fervid and passionate temperament, characteristic of the 
 great body of the Spanish nation, influenced by the political 
 exigencies which made it the champion of the Catholic religion, 
 offered a suitable soil for a growth of this kind, and during the 
 sixteenth and seventeenth centuries there sprung up a series 
 of mystic writers so remarkable that mysticism of a certain 
 kind may almost be regarded as a peculiarly Spanish develop- 
 ment. At first the attitude of the Church towards the persons, 
 many of them entirely illiterate, who claimed direct inspiration 
 was hesitating. Some were stated to have worked miracles or 
 to have had miracles manifested in their bodies while in a state 
 of ecstatic trance. Such supernatural pretensions were dis- 
 couraged by the authorities, and searching inquiries were set 
 on foot by the Inquisition. These generally resulted in the 
 submission and recantation of the person under examination. 
 Even the miracles of Santa Teresa were not allowed to pass 
 unchallenged. She incurred much suspicion, and it was only 
 during the last years of her life that her claims to sanctity were 
 fully acknowledged. 
 
 It is a remarkable feature of Spanish mysticism that from 
 Ramon Lull onward its devotees, even the most favoured of 
 them, were not mere dreamers, but had a strong practical 
 element in their character. Almost all of them worked hard 
 for the advancement of the religious congregation to which they 
 severally belonged, and for the initiation or perfecting of charit- 
 able schemes. Some even proved themselves shrewd diplo- 
 matists in the negotiations they conducted with persons in 
 authority, skilfully disarming or rendering ineffective the hatred 
 and jealousy with which they were often regarded by the 
 members of rival orders. The Jesuits more especially looked 
 with suspicion upon them and upon their indirect claims to 
 superior sanctity. Another quality possessed in common by 
 the adherents of this school is an extraordinary gift of expression 
 
MYSTIC AND RELIGIOUS WRITERS 
 
 97 
 
 and command over their native language. At a time when 
 pedantry and classical affectation were rife, the mystics are 
 almost the only class of writers who keep themselves free from 
 these faults and preserve a simple and natural tone, expressing 
 by striking and often beautiful allegories transcendental feel- 
 ings and ecstatic states of mind which ordinary language is 
 inadequate to describe. It was in the seventeenth century and 
 in the writings of the mystics that Spanish prose reached its 
 highest development as a literary instrument ; and so little has 
 the language changed since then, that a novelist and critic of 
 the present day, 1 whose style is universally and justly admired, 
 points proudly to the religious writers of this period as his 
 models. 
 
 The first of the series is Juan de Avila, the friend and 
 religious adviser of Santa Teresa. From his youth upwards he 
 showed extraordinary religious fervour. He withdrew from the 
 University of Salamanca, whither he had been sent to study law, 
 in order to undergo a self-inflicted penance of three years. 
 He afterwards took orders, divided his goods among the poor, 
 and dedicating himself to preaching met with extraordinary 
 success. His perfect disinterestedness was shown by his refusal 
 of all the high positions offered to him in the Church ; the 
 saintliness of his life was well known, but even this did not 
 disarm his enemies, and he suffered much wilful misrepresent- 
 ation and actual persecution at their hands. He is the author 
 of several moral and theological treatises, the most remarkable 
 of which is the Cartas Espirituales^ a collection of letters 
 divided into four parts, and addressed respectively to the clergy 
 and religious orders, to nuns and young women, to married 
 women, and to noblemen. They contain rules for the conduct 
 of life based entirely on religious considerations ; this world is 
 but a place of probation, and the only happiness that can be 
 attained in it results from the communion of the soul with God, 
 
 1 See preface to Pepita Hmenez by Juan Valera. 
 
 H 
 
98 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 which presupposes all the virtues and gives a foretaste of the 
 better and eternal life. Juan de Avila's book is in perfect keep- 
 ing with the portraits of the man himself. These represent a 
 sweet grave face, too delicate to contain any strong lines, and 
 with dreamy contemplative eyes, whose gaze seems lost in 
 another world. His easy and fluent style is here and there 
 allowed to become careless and loose, for he cared nothing for 
 the form of his works ; his only thought is to persuade others to 
 seek happiness where he himself had found it. 
 
 Santa Teresa de Jesus was born in the city of Avila in Old 
 Castile in the year 15 15. Her history is told with admirable 
 simplicity in the Libro de su Vida (Book of her Life), which 
 she wrote by command of her spiritual advisers. Her parents 
 were persons of good family, severe, frigid, and exceedingly 
 punctilious in the discharge of all religious duties. The some- 
 what harsh and formal character of her surroundings produced 
 in early youth a reaction and spirit of rebellion in the heart 
 of the passionate girl. In later life she never ceases to 
 reproach herself for the apparently innocent vagaries of this 
 period of her life, among which she reckons the writing of a 
 romance of chivalry at the age of fourteen years. It was not 
 long, however, before the serious and deeply religious ground- 
 work of her character became apparent, and when only sixteen 
 years of age she entered with many misgivings the Augustine 
 convent in her native place. Three years later she took the 
 life-long vows, and shortly afterwards she entered upon her 
 great task, the reform and extension of the Carmelite order. 
 Her health was delicate, but throughout long periods of acute 
 suffering she showed heroic fortitude and unflinching resolution. 
 In the discharge of what she considered to be her duty she 
 allowed herself to be interrupted neither by her physical 
 ailments nor by the many and bitter persecutions resulting 
 from the jealousies she had provoked and the prejudices sr \ 
 had attacked. In spite of the cruel misconstruction put upc 
 
 I 
 
MYSTIC AND RELIGIOUS WRITERS 
 
 99 
 
 her actions by those to whom she might reasonably have looked 
 for help, and in spite of coolness and even direct opposition 
 from the highest quarters, she succeeded in her object by sheer 
 force of character and business-like activity. In twelve years she 
 reformed the order to which she belonged, and founded seven- 
 teen convents under the new regulations drawn up by herself 
 and her friends. Immediately after her death, which occurred 
 in 1582, her admirers, among whom were now reckoned many 
 of her former enemies, agreed that a great saint had passed 
 away, and they applied to Rome for the recognition which her 
 merits had so thoroughly deserved. Her beatification was 
 succeeded by her canonisation in 1622. A curious testimony 
 to the esteem in which she was held is furnished by the attempt 
 to make her joint patron of Spain along with Santiago (see 
 p. 181). 
 
 Santa Teresa's moral and mystic works gained almost im- 
 mediately after her death a world-wide reputation, which they 
 have preserved in Roman Catholic countries down to the 
 present day. Without pretensions to learning or literary 
 prejudices of any kind, she describes in language, admirable for 
 its simplicity and clearness, the ardent aspirations of her soul, 
 and urges others to follow in the path by which she herself 
 obtained such singular favour from on high. The wonderful 
 directness and evident good faith with which she recounts the 
 miracles of which she believed herself to be the object, and 
 which she published only when commanded to do so, preclude 
 all suspicions of fraud, and went straight to the hearts of the 
 pious folk for whom her writings were intended. The rules 
 which she drew up for the government and administration of 
 the convents under her charge, as well as many anecdotes 
 concerning her life, show the shrewd and practical side of her 
 character, which acted as a check on what would otherwise 
 probably have become a consuming madness. Her poetical 
 works will be mentioned in another chapter. 
 
u 
 
 ioo SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 A contemporary of the two above-mentioned writers and also 
 of Luis de Leon, with whose name this short notice of a most 
 interesting and important class ends, was Fray Luis de Granada. 
 % Twelve years after its conquest he was born in the city from 
 which he took his name. His mother was a widow, so poor 
 that she was obliged to beg her bread at the doors of the newly- 
 founded convents which made the needy their special charge. 
 He owed his education to the liberality of the Marques de 
 Mondejar, the father of Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, who was 
 at that time governor of the city. Joining the Dominican order, 
 Luis de Granada soon won the reputation of a great preacher. 
 After a long and active life, a large part of which was spent in 
 an attempt to convert and to better the lot of the unfortunate 
 Moriscos of his native land, he finally became provincial of his 
 order in Lisbon, where he died at the age of eighty-three. 
 Luis de Granada was a theologian, but it is not on subtle 
 arguments that he relies for winning souls to God. In burning 
 and eloquent phrases of great sweetness and power he deplores 
 the miseries of the present world, contrasting the fleeting joys 
 of even its most fortunate votaries with the rewards of the true 
 believer on this side of the grave as well as on the other. 
 With passionate earnestness he points to the figure of the 
 Redeemer, exhorting mankind by an appeal to the loftiest and 
 noblest feelings of the human heart to follow Him. In the 
 pursuit of his great object he rises to the highest pitch of 
 inspiration, expressing himself in flowing, graceful, and correct 
 language. His writings are still widely read and, as devotional 
 books, his Guide of Sinners and Prayer and Meditation are 
 surpassed only by the unrivalled Imitatio?i of Christ. 
 
 Of the life of Luis de Leon and his qualities as a poet 
 mention will be made elsewhere (see p. 126). Remarkable 
 as is his verse, his prose is equal to it in merit. He is a more 
 thorough scholar and theologian than the other mystics already 
 mentioned. This may be seen in his treatise on the Names of 
 
MYSTIC AND RELIGIOUS WRITERS 101 
 
 Christ, in which he interprets and comments on the symbolic 
 Biblical titles of Bridegroom, Prince of Peace, and Shepherd. 
 His learning is, however, far removed from pedantry and 
 minute quibbling. The reflections to which these names give 
 rise in his mind are often truly sublime. In the translation of 
 the Song of Solomon, which brought upon him such bitter 
 persecution, he finds scope for his luxuriant style, full of oriental 
 imagery, but never bombastic. With the exception of his 
 poetical works, the book by which he is best known is his 
 Perfecta Casada (Perfect Wife), in which, taking for his text 
 the thirty-first chapter of the Book of Proverbs, he sketches in 
 grave and forcible language his somewhat severe but admirably 
 pure conception of the strong woman. So true is his picture, 
 and so accurately did he gauge the feelings of his countrymen 
 in this respect, that a Spanish authoress of great talent (Emilia 
 Pardo Bazan) has lately expressed an opinion that his book 
 still represents the national ideal of the Perfect Wife. 
 
 The list of Religious and Mystic writers of real importance 
 might be prolonged to greater length, but their general charac- 
 teristics may be gleaned from a few examples. The beauty 
 of their style belongs to their age and literary surroundings, 
 and has no relation to their theological opinions, for Juan de 
 Valdes and C. de Valera write with the same perfection and 
 grace as the most orthodox of those mentioned above. Re- 
 ligion was an ever-present reality to Spaniards of all classes 
 during the period of national glory, and their splendid language 
 and powerful imaginations combined to make it one of the most 
 important branches of their literature. 
 
 IVER 
 

 CHAPTER X 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 The Chronicle of the Catholic Sovereigns by their secretary, 
 Hernando del Pulgar, is the last of a series, and bears traces of 
 the transition stage between chronicle and history. It is true 
 that during the reign of Charles V. the compilation of a new 
 Crbnica General de Espaiia was entrusted to Florian de Ocampo, 
 who brought his work down to the Roman period, where it was 
 taken up by Morales, and afterwards by Sandoval, the author 
 of a history of the reign of Charles V. But the scope and aims 
 of this work are widely different from those of the earlier 
 chronicles, and it is evident that historical science has already 
 made considerable strides. Judged by the canons and com- 
 pared with the methods of the present day, the works of Ocampo 
 and later historians appear credulous and uncritical in the ex- 
 treme, but they no longer content themselves with mere tales of 
 battles and of the rise and fall of dynasties in chronological order. 
 In 1547 the General Assembly of the kingdom of Aragon 
 first appointed an official chronicler, and their choice fell most 
 happily upon the learned and industrious Geronimo de Zurita. 
 Leaving out the earlier period, which had cost his predecessors 
 so much fruitless labour, and beginning his history at the 
 Moorish invasion, Zurita brought it down to the year 15 10, at 
 which point it was, after his death, taken up by his successors 
 and continued till the year 1705. Zurita's work marks a new 
 
HISTORY 103 
 
 epoch in the writing of history ; painstaking and exact in the 
 extreme, he cannot rest satisfied with mere tradition. Aban- 
 doning the practice of former historians, who had been satisfied 
 to copy from their predecessors, he undertook more than one 
 long journey for the sake of consulting original documents. 
 His Anales de la Corona de Aragon is still by far the most 
 useful and trustworthy authority on his subject and period; his 
 judgment is correct and impartial, and his conception of history 
 is broad and liberal. But Zurita was no artist ; his account of 
 the stirring and picturesque events which form the subject of 
 his book is colourless and lacking in dramatic interest ; his 
 Annals form a splendid collection of material, but can scarcely 
 be looked on as a literary work. 
 
 Very different in character is_ Juan de Mariana, the greatest 
 of Spanish historians, who was Zurita's junior by one generation. 
 He was a foundling, and owed his education at the University 
 of Alcala to the charity of one of the canons of Toledo. 
 While still very young he became a member of the Society of 
 Jesus, and later on taught theology and scholastic philosophy 
 in Rome, and at the Sorbonne. In 1574 he returned to Spain 
 and took up his abode in a religious house at Toledo, where 
 he lived almost continuously till the time of his death, which 
 took place in 1623, in extreme old age. Mariana's history 
 of Spain was published in Latin at the end of the sixteenth 
 century, but in 1609 he brought out a translation with many 
 additions and corrections. This is the work with which we 
 are chiefly concerned. The earlier part of it is somewhat 
 uninteresting, for Mariana, according to the custom of his age, 
 begins with the fabulous period at which Tubal, son of Japheth, 
 settled in Spain. For the Roman period also, a vast increase 
 in the number of documents, together with improved methods 
 of criticism, have rendered Mariana's work obsolete. It is only 
 when he reaches later times that we are able to appreciate to the 
 full his great genius. His style is of the purest and most facile, 
 
104 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 his descriptions animated and brilliant, and in the painting 
 
 / of character he is probably unsurpassed. Even the apocryphal 
 
 speeches which, in imitation of classical authors, he frequently 
 
 puts into the mouth of historical persons have a real importance, 
 
 resulting from their artistic value and the life-like effect thereby 
 
 produced. In them, moreover, is revealed a great deal of their 
 
 author's shrewd political views. Mariana has a wonderful gift 
 
 of transferring himself in imagination to the times of which he 
 
 wrote, and of realising the motives and views of contending 
 
 parties. In spite, however, of his broad, and in many respects 
 
 enlightened views, he is very uncritical, more particularly 
 
 where religious matters are concerned. Above all he is a 
 
 Christian historian, and legends and miracles of saints are 
 
 related by him with the greatest good faith, side by side with 
 
 historical facts resting on undoubted evidence. Even this 
 
 peculiarity, rightly regarded, ceases to be a defect, for it helps 
 
 toward the better understanding of the times of and for which 
 
 he wrote, and in which such beliefs exercised a wide influence 
 
 over conduct. As a historian, Mariana has to the full the 
 
 defects and limitations of his age, country, and order; as a 
 
 writer of Spanish prose, he is above criticism. 
 
 Besides his great history, Mariana published several tracts 
 
 of great value on political and religious matters. These show 
 
 how well qualified he was to be a judge of economic and 
 
 political questions, and how conscientiously he worked when 
 
 he had the necessary documents at hand. His memorial on 
 
 the subject of public shows and dramatic representations is a 
 
 thoughtful piece of work containing much valuable information. 
 
 The following passage on the bull-fight would raise a smile 
 
 among followers {aficionados) of what is still the national sport: — 
 
 1 Pero esta costumbre nunca se quito en Espaiia, 6 con el tiempo se ha 
 tornado a revocar, por ser nuestra nation muy aficionada a este espectaculo, 
 
 1 " But this custom was either never lost in Spain, or has again been revived 
 after a lapse of years, by reason of the affection of our people for such 
 spectacles and the extraordinary ferocity of Spanish bulls, caused by the 
 
HISTORY 105 
 
 siendo los toros en Espana mas bravos que en otras partes, a causa de la 
 sequedad de la tierra y de los pastos, por donde lo que mas habia de 
 apartar destos juegos, que es no ver despedazar a los hombres, eso los 
 enciende mas a apetecellos, por ser, como son, aflcionades a las armas y a 
 derramar sangre, de genio inquieto, tanto que cuanto mas bravos son 
 los toros y mas hombres matan, tanto el juego da mas contento : y si 
 ninguno hieren, el deleite y placer es muy liviano 6 ninguno ; ... en 
 nuestros juegos . . . todos los toreadores salen de su voluntad al coso, al 
 derredor del cual hay muchas barreras y escondrijos donde se recogen 
 seguramente, porque el toro no puede entrar dentro tras ellos, de suerte 
 que si algunos perecen, parece que no es culpa de los que gobiernan, 
 sino de los que locamente se atrevieron a ponerse en parte de donde no 
 pudiesen huir seguramente. Principalmente a los que torean a caballo 
 ningun peligro, a 16 menos muy pequeno, les corre ; solo la gente baja 
 tiene peligro, y por causa dellos se trata esta dificultad, si conviene que 
 este juego por el tal peligro se quite como los demas espectaculos, 6 si 
 sera mejor que se use con fin de deleitar el pueblo, y con estas peleas y 
 fiestas ejercitalle para las verdaderas peleas. 
 
 Considering the conditions under which he lived, Mariana 
 is a liberal-minded thinker and exceedingly bold in the ex- 
 pression of his views. In 1598 he published at Toledo a 
 tract, entitled De Rege et Regis Institutione^ that created a storm 
 of controversy throughout Europe. In it he examines the 
 foundations of regal authority, and with a boldness unknown 
 in his age he justifies the slaughter of tyrants in extreme 
 
 dryness of the land, and of their pastures ; and so it comes about that that 
 which ought chiefly to repel in such sports, namely the sight of men torn to 
 pieces, is the very reason for which they are sought after. For the Spaniard 
 loves weapons; and bloodshed and is restless by nature to such a degree that 
 the greater the ferocity of the bulls and the number of men that they slay, the 
 more he is pleased with the sport : and if nobody is wounded his pleasure and 
 enjoyment is but slight or disappears altogether ; ... in our sports ... all 
 the bull-fighters come into the ring of their own free will, and round about it 
 are abundance of barriers and lurking-places to which they withdraw in safety, 
 for thither the bull cannot pursue them ; so that, if any are slain, it seems not 
 to be through the fault of the rulers, but owing to the foolhardiness of those 
 who expose themselves in such positions that they cannot obtain safety by flight. 
 More especially those who fight on horseback are out of danger, or their risk is 
 but slight ; it is only the common people that are in danger, and for their sakes 
 we discuss the question whether it behoves that this sport should like other 
 public spectacles be abolished by reason of the aforesaid danger, or whether it 
 is better that it should continue for- he delight of the vulgar and in order that 
 the people may be trained a ad exercised for real warfare by such fightings and 
 festivities." 
 
io6 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 - cases. This work was burned at Paris by the hands of the 
 executioner, and brought odium upon its author and upon his 
 order. For his vigorous protest against the debasement of the 
 coin of the realm, Mariana was imprisoned by the king. His 
 review of the Society of Jesus, which we can scarcely suppose 
 to have been intended for publication, met with the censure 
 of his religious superiors and brought speedy punishment 
 upon its author. 
 
 Diego Hurtado de Mendoza has already been mentioned 
 as the supposed author of Lazarillo de Tor??ies (see p. 88). 
 He was the son of the Marques de Mondejar, the first 
 governor of the newly-conquered kingdom of Granada, and was 
 born there in the year 1503. After studying at Salamanca he 
 became a soldier and saw much active service in the wars of 
 the Emperor. He rendered important services to the state as 
 ambassador to the Republic of Venice, was made governor of 
 Lima, and subsequently appointed to represent Spain at the 
 Council of Trent, where he manfully defended the interests of 
 his native land. When quite an old man he brought upon 
 himself, by his hot temper, the displeasure of Felipe II. and 
 was banished to Granada, where he spent the greater part of his 
 latter days. As a man of letters and a scholar he associated 
 with the great writers, both Spanish and Italian, of his time ; 
 he showed his interest in classical studies by obtaining from 
 the Sultan, whom he had laid under an obligation, an import- 
 ant collection of Greek manuscripts, which, together with his 
 collection of Arabic and Hebrew works, he presented to the 
 library of the Escorial, where they are still preserved. While 
 living in retirement at Granada (about 157 1), he wrote, under 
 the title of History of the Rebellion a?id Chastiseme?it of the 
 Moriscos, an account of events which occurred in the years 
 1568-70. In Mendoza's prose, as in his verse, his affection 
 for the classics is clearly seen. Tacitus and Sallust are his 
 models, and in certain passages his imitation of them is so close 
 
HISTORY 107 
 
 that it is hard to believe that he has not distorted historical 
 facts for the sake of following more closely in the steps of his 
 favourite authors. As a literary work the Guerra de Granada 
 has been vastly overrated. It certainly contains a few brilliant 
 descriptive passages, and some few vigorous apocryphal set 
 speeches, but the style is laboured and pedantic, repetitions 
 are frequent, and many passages are extremely obscure. For 
 the latter fault the editors are undoubtedly in some degree 
 accountable. Mendoza's book contained serious reflections 
 upon the conduct of several important personages who had 
 been engaged in the war, and this is probably the reason why 
 it was not published until some years after his death. When 
 it finally appeared, many mistakes had crept into the text, and 
 incorrect punctuation, combined with an abrupt and epigram- 
 matical style abounding in Latinisms, make it, with the excep- 
 tion of some of Quevedo's works, one of the most difficult ' 
 prose books in the Spanish tongue. 
 
 As a historian, Mendoza has many good qualities ; he was 
 thoroughly conversant with the people and events about which 
 he wrote, and the picture he paints is a striking one though 
 somewhat confused in its details. His greatest merit lies in his 
 frankness and impartiality. He writes, not to celebrate the 
 military glories of Don John of Austria and those who fought 
 under him, but to give an unbiassed account of an event of 
 great political importance. He is particularly distinguished 
 by the fairness and humanity with which he speaks of the 
 unhappy Moriscos whose last struggles he records. This is 
 the more remarkable when we consider the exaggerated hatred 
 and contempt with which writers of the succeeding generation, 
 and even the liberal-minded Cervantes himself, treat the 
 unfortunate remnant of a once powerful nation. 
 
 The conquest of the vast country of Mexico by Hernan 
 Cortes and his small but devoted band of heroes was a 
 subject well fitted to inspire Spanish writers. It found a 
 
10S SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 historian worthy of it in Antonio-de Solis, private secretary to 
 Felipe IV., and afterwards chronicler of the Indies. Solis 
 was also a poet and a dramatic author, but it is in history that 
 he finds his true vocation. His book, in addition to giving an 
 accurate and picturesque account of the events which it nar- 
 rates, has, like that of Mariana, published nearly a century 
 earlier, the advantage of being undoubtedly one of the great 
 models of the language in which it was written. To say, as 
 his fellow-countrymen do, of Solis' Historia de la Conquista de 
 Mejico, that it is not surpassed by any of the great histories 
 of antiquity, is certainly extravagant praise, but his merits, 
 whether we regard him as a writer of prose or as a historian, 
 are very great. From the latter point of view, relating as he 
 did the events of a few years, it was easy for him to attain 
 the dramatic unity which, by the nature of his subject, was 
 denied to Mariana. But this consideration alone is far from 
 being enough to account for the wide interval that separates 
 the two. Solis continues the fashion of putting into the 
 mouths of his heroes and of their adversaries the set speeches 
 in which historians of the period delight. In spite of this and 
 of other mannerisms, now quite out of date, his history is 
 wonderfully modern in tone. It enters thoroughly into the 
 spirit of the events it recounts, and is readable from end to 
 end. Besides historical considerations that cannot fail to 
 interest, Solis represents great passions at work and strongly 
 marked characters brought into collision. These, in the 
 setting of the magnificent and then all but unknown country 
 which he describes in stately and glowing terms, combine to 
 make his work a prose epic of great artistic perfection, and 
 worthy to be compared with Schiller's Thirty Years' War. 
 
 In connection with the early history of America three 
 books must be mentioned, as much on account of their in- 
 trinsic literary value as on account of their connection with the 
 names of famous men of action. The first is the collection of 
 
HISTORY 109 
 
 Letters and Memorials of Christopher Columbus. In spite of 
 his foreign birth, Columbus handled the Castilian language 
 with perfect facility, and in it he wrote the letters which best 
 describe the hopes, fears, ambitions, and dreams that swayed 
 his conduct and led him to undertake his great discovery. 
 Pathetic indeed are the accounts of his dejection when he saw 
 himself thwarted in his great enterprises by mutinous crews, 
 petty jealousies, and the downright dishonesty of his un- 
 scrupulous enemies. His correspondence reveals a curious 
 mystical and half-inspired side to his otherwise practical and 
 business-like character. He believes himself to be a chosen 
 instrument for fulfilling the prophecies of the Bible ; he 
 destines the wealth of the countries he had discovered to 
 further the reconquest of the Holy Sepulchre ; he sees visions, 
 and, when he is on the point of despair, angels are sent to 
 comfort him. The following well-known passage from one of 
 his letters to Fernando and Isabel contains Columbus's own 
 account of this miraculous intervention in his affairs : — 
 
 1 Mi hermano y la otra gente toda estaban en un navio que quedo 
 adentro ; yo muy solo de fuera en tan brava costa, con fuerte fiebre, en 
 tania fatiga ; la esperanza de escapar era muerta ; subi asi trabajando lo 
 mas alto, llamando a voz temerosa, llorando y muy apriesa, los maestros 
 de la guerra de vuestras Altezas, a todos cuatro los vientos, por socorro ; 
 mas nunca me respondieron. Cansado me dormeci gimiendo ; una voz 
 muy piadosa 01 diciendo : " ; O estulto y tardo a creer y a servir a tu Dios, 
 Dios de todos ! I Que hizo el mas por Moyses 6 por David su siervo ? 
 Desque naciste, siempre el tuvo de ti muy grande cargo. Cuando te vido 
 
 1 Navarrete, Viages, vol. i. p. 303. Madrid, 1825. I have slightly 
 changed the punctuation and accentuation. 
 
 ' ' My brother and all the rest of the company were in a ship that remained 
 in port ; I, sore lonely, outside on that cruel coast, with a great fever and 
 very weary ; my hopes of escape were gone ; and so it was that toilsomely I 
 climbed to the highest part, calling in fear and with many tears to the captains 
 of your Highnesses, towards the four quarters of heaven, for help ; but none 
 answered me. Worn out I fell asleep sobbing ; I heard a voice of pity that 
 said : ' Oh fool, and slow to believe and to serve thy God, the God of all. 
 What more did He for Moses or for David His servant ? From thy birth He 
 ever had thee in peculiar care. When thou earnest to the age that seemed 
 
1 10 SPANISH LITERA TURE 
 
 en edad de que el fue contento, maravillosamente hizo sonar tu nombre en 
 la tierra. Las Indias que son parte de la tierra tan ricas, te las dio por 
 tuyas : tu las repartiste adonde te plugo y te dio poder para ello. De los 
 atamientos de la mar oceana que estaban cerrados con cadenas tan fuertes 
 te dio las Haves y fuiste obedescido en tantas tierras, y de los cristianos 
 cobraste tan honrada fama. . . . Tornate a el y conoce ya tu yerro ; su 
 misericordia es infinita : tu vejez no impedira a toda cosa grande : muchas 
 heredades tiene el grandisimas. . . . Tu llamas por socorro incierto : 
 responde £ quien te ha afligido tanto y tantas veces, Dios 6 el mundo ? Los 
 privilegios y promesas que da Dios, no las quebranta. . . . el va al pie de 
 la letra ; todo lo que el promete cumple con acrescentamiento : <? esto es 
 uso ? Dicho tengo lo que tu Criador ha fecho por ti y hace con todos. 
 Ahora medio muestra el galardon de estos afanes y peligros que has pasado 
 sirviendo a otros." Yo asi amort ecido oi todo, mas no tuve yo respuesta a 
 palabras tan ciertas, salvo llorar por mis yerros. Acabo el de fablar quien 
 quiera que fuese diciendo : "No temas, confia : todas estas tribulaciones 
 estan escritas en piedra marmol, y no sin causa." Levanteme cuando 
 pude, y al cabo de nueve dias hizo bonanza. . . . 
 
 Another collection of almost equal interest is formed by 
 the reports of Hernan Cortes to the Queen and to the 
 Emperor. Cortes has no literary pretensions, his style is 
 simple and direct ; in plain and soldierly language he narrates 
 the great events in which he took a leading part. 
 
 Fray Bartolome de las Casas, deservedly called the Apostle 
 of the Indies, described in words glowing and eloquent, 
 
 good to Him, He made thy name to sound wondrously throughout the world. 
 The Indies, the richest region of the earth, He gave thee for thy own ; thou 
 didst portion them out according to thy pleasure, this power He granted thee. 
 Of the confines of the ocean-sea which were closed with mighty chains, He 
 gave to thee the keys, and thou wast obeyed in many lands and in Christen- 
 dom thou didst win so honourable a name. . . . Turn thee to Him and admit 
 thy fault : His mercy is infinite : thy old age shall not debar great deeds : many 
 and great bequests are in God's hand. . . . Thou art calling for a vain help : 
 say then, who hath afflicted thee thus and thus often, — God or the world? 
 The privileges and promises that God vouchsafes He does not transgress. . . . 
 His fulfilment is strict ; all that He promises He fulfils with interest ; do others 
 so ? I have told thee what thy Creator hath done for thee and doth for all. 
 Even now He reveals to thee the reward of this toil and danger which have 
 befallen thee as the servant of others.' Thus sunk in stupor I heard all, but 
 had nought to answer to words so true, save that I bewailed my faults. And 
 he who spake, whoever he were, finished thus : ' Fear not, but trust ; all 
 these tribulations are writ on rock, and not in vain.' — I rose so soon I might, 
 and after nine days there came a calm. ..." 
 
HISTORY in 
 
 with honest indignation, the hideous cruelties to which the 
 natives under his religious charge were subjected, showing at 
 the same time how fatal to Spanish interests would be the 
 extermination of the native races, and how rapidly it would be 
 completed if the king did not interpose to prevent it. Besides 
 his Relation de la Destruicibn de las Indias, he wrote a 
 General History of the Indies, which, unfortunately, is still 
 unpublished. 
 
 Antonio Perez is not, properly speaking, a writer of history, 
 but his Letters and Reports are so interesting, both on account 
 of their form and contents, that he ought not to be passed 
 over. Good family connections, backed by a ready wit and 
 unscrupulous audacity, early gained for him a place at the 
 court of Felipe II. Holding the office of private secretary to 
 the king, Perez was employed in some of the darkest opera- 
 tions of his master's tortuous policy, and there is little doubt 
 that he was guilty of murdering at least one person who had 
 made himself objectionable. Eager to rid himself of the 
 possessor of dangerous secrets, the astute Felipe picked a 
 quarrel with his former secretary, the immediate cause of 
 which still remains a mystery. 1 It is, however, certain that 
 the life of Perez was in danger when, after years of persecution, 
 he suddenly fled to Aragon. Here the king attempted to 
 reach him by means of the long arm of the Inquisition. This 
 proceeding, however, provoked a rebellion among the people 
 of Saragossa, who considered their privileges invaded by such 
 interference. Antonio Perez fled first to the court of Beam, 
 then to Paris, and then to England, where he became the 
 associate of Essex and of Bacon, living as a pensioner on the 
 bounty of the enemies of his country. For years the king's 
 hatred pursued him relentlessly, and Perez's cunning is amply 
 proved by his numerous escapes from the emissaries who 
 sought to entrap him. Finally he sank into obscurity, and 
 
 1 See Professor Froude's Essay on Antonio Perez. 
 
112 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 died at Paris in 1611. His letters, written during his exile, 
 form a large collection, which he published in parts. They 
 are addressed to persons in all stations of life, and are written 
 in all styles, from grave and dignified arraignments of the 
 author's former master, to familiar and affectionate gossip with 
 wife and children. Their language is singularly clear and 
 appropriate to their subjects ; at times pathetic and again self- 
 assured in tone, now passionate and again calm, they are the 
 best models of epistolary writing in the Spanish language. As 
 historical documents they are rendered almost worthless by 
 their author's evident bias and constitutional disregard of 
 truth. 
 
 Deserving of mention, by reason of its literary merit, is the 
 remarkable forgery of the seventeenth century 1 known as the 
 Centbn Epistolario, and purporting to be the work of the 
 Bachiller Fernan Gomez de Cibdareal, the physician of Juan 
 II. It consists of a hundred letters to great persons who lived 
 during the fifteenth century, and was considered one of the 
 greatest monuments of early Spanish prose until further inquiry 
 proved it to be a late production, compiled chiefly from the 
 chronicle of Juan II. for the purpose of magnifying the import- 
 ance of a particular family and at a time when forgeries of the 
 kind were by no means uncommon. It is sad indeed to find 
 in place of the old doctor, so faithfully attached to his royal 
 patient, and so full of worldly wisdom and good doctrine, the 
 wily scribe of an unscrupulous master, and to detect fraud in 
 the quaintly pathetic passages in which the Centbn abounds. 
 
 1 See Adolfo de Castro, Sobre el Centdn Epistolario. Sevilla, 1875. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 RELIGIOUS AND SECULAR POETS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 
 
 CULTERANISMO 
 
 The list of the poets who flourished during the fifty years that 
 separate Jorge Manrique from Boscan and Garcilaso de la 
 Vega (d. 1536) is a long one, but scarce one of the names 
 contained in it is worthy of mention. Religious subjects are 
 the only ones that furnished any real inspiration to the writers 
 who lived in the midst of such great events as the taking of 
 Granada and the discovery of the New World. The imitation 
 of classical and Italian writers continues, and so stereotyped 
 has poetry become that, on opening a volume of verse of the 
 period, we straightway expect it to begin with a vision and to 
 be crammed full of allegory and mythology. During the latter 
 half of the reign of the Catholic Sovereigns, Spain for the first 
 time enjoyed security and peace at home. Learning and cul- 
 ture greatly increased, but it seemed at first as though this was 
 destined to redound to the disadvantage of literature, for the 
 learning of the time took the form of pedantry and intentional 
 obscurity, whilst culture showed a marked tendency to degene- 
 rate into false sentiment and affectation. It is only here and there 
 among the voluminous works of second-rate authors that the 
 genuine national spirit shines forth in some ballad or hymn. It is 
 hard indeed to detect the first low notes that prelude the great out- 
 burst of inspired song of the crowning period of Spanish poetry. 
 
 1 
 
ii 4 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Eleven-syllable verse and the sonnet had been occasionally 
 cultivated by Spanish poets ever since the time of Alfonso the 
 Wise, who was the first to attempt them : compositions in these 
 exotic forms are found among the works of Francisco Imperial 
 and the Marques de Santillana. To Juan Boscan, however, 
 belongs the honour of having thoroughly naturalised the 
 Italian measures, and of having been the first to make good 
 use of blank verse. Boscan was born at Barcelona about the 
 beginning of the sixteenth century, and died at middle age. 
 He left behind him a miscellaneous collection of poems, some 
 in the short national measure, but most of them in the Italian 
 style. None of these are of great merit, and many are utterly 
 worthless ; their tone is correct but frigid, and wholly lacking 
 in inspiration. Their author owes his place in the history of 
 the literature of his country to the circumstances of having 
 revived or introduced more elegant and elaborate forms of 
 verse, and to his connection with a really great poet. 
 
 This was Garcilaso de la Vega, a member of a distinguished 
 family, and contemporary and intimate friend of Boscan and of 
 the learned Juan de Valdes. A picturesque figure in a brilliant 
 and courtly age, he was celebrated for his personal beauty and 
 for the valour which he displayed in several of the campaigns 
 of the Emperor Charles V. He took part in the gallant 
 struggle against the Turks on the Danube.^ Banished from 
 Naples in consequence of a private quarrel, he was for some 
 time imprisoned on an island in that river. Here it was that 
 he wrote a considerable part of the small collection of verses 
 which was to win him a place among the greatest poets of his 
 country. After distinguishing himself at the taking of La 
 Goleta and at the battle of Turin, he was killed, while yet a 
 young man, by a blow on the head from a stone during an 
 assault on the castle of Frejus. 
 
 His works, which were first published by Boscan's widow 
 together with those of her husband, consist of three eclogues, 
 
POETS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 115 
 
 two elegies, five odes (canriones), an epistle, and about forty 
 sonnets, all in the Italian manner. Garcilaso is an imitator in 
 the fullest sense of the word. Whole passages of his verse are 
 translated almost directly from Latin and Italian authors, but 
 he deserves the singular praise of having seldom fallen below 
 the perfection of his models, an honour which belongs to few 
 indeed of those who have ventured to vie with Vergil and with 
 Petrarch. To those who would see to what pitch of grandeur 
 the Castilian tongue can rise, when subject and verse alike are 
 suited to it, no better example can be cited than Garcilaso's 
 first eclogue, of which the following passage may serve as a 
 specimen : — 
 
 1 1 Quien me dijera, Elisa, vida mia, 
 Cuando en aqueste valle al fresco viento 
 Andabamos cogiendo tiernas flores, 
 Que habfa de ver con largo apartamiento 
 Venir el triste y solitario di'a 
 Que diese amargo fin a mis amores ? 
 El cielo en mis dolores 
 Cargo la mano tanto 
 Que a sempiterno llanto 
 
 Y a triste soledad me ha condenado. 
 
 Y lo que siento mas es verme atado 
 A la pesada vida y enojosa, 
 
 Solo, desamparado, 
 
 Ciego sin lumbre en carcel tenebrosa 
 
 • • • • 
 
 Como al partir del sol la sombra crece, 
 
 Y en cayendo su rayo se levanta 
 
 La negra escuridad que el mundo cubre, 
 De do viene el temor que nos espanta 
 
 « 
 
 1 "Who could have told me, Elisa mine, — when in this valley in the 
 fresh breeze, — we walked and gathered tender flowers, — that after long absence 
 I should see — the coming of the sad and lonely day — which put a bitter end 
 to all my love? — Heaven in filling my cup of woe — so charged it to the 
 brim — that to never-ending tears — and mournful solitude it has condemned 
 me. — But chief of all my griefs is to be bound — to life dreary and wearisome 
 — alone, bereft of help, — blind and deprived of light in my dim prison-house. 
 . . . As at the sun's departure shadows lengthen — and, as his beam declines, 
 there rises up — black darkness covering the earth, — whence springs the fear by 
 
n6 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Y la niedrosa forma en que se ofrece 
 Aquello que la noche nos encubre, 
 Hasta que el sol descubre 
 
 Su luz pura y hermosa : 
 Tal es la tenebrosa 
 
 Noche de tu partir, en que he quedado 
 De sombra y de temor atormentado, 
 Hasta que muerte el tiempo determine 
 Que a ver el deseado 
 Sol de tu clara vista me encamine. 
 Cual suele el ruisenor con triste canto 
 Quejarse, entre las hojas escondido, 
 Del duro labrador, que cautamente 
 Le despojo su caro y dulce nido 
 De los tiernos hijuelos entre tanto 
 Que del amado ramo estaba ausente ; 
 
 Y aquel dolor que siente 
 Con diferencia tanta 
 Por la dulce garganta 
 
 Despide y a su canto el aire suena, 
 
 Y la callada noche no refrena 
 
 Su lamentable oficio y sus querellas, 
 Trayendo de su pena 
 Al cielo por testigo y las estrellas : 
 Desta manera suelto yo la rienda 
 A mi dolor y asi me quejo en vano 
 De la dureza de la muerte airada. 
 
 Cervantes, Lope, and the other great poets of his country, 
 are agreed in calling Garcilaso " sublime," and well does he 
 merit the name. Though a soldier, and living constantly in 
 
 which we are alarmed, — the awe-inspiring form in which appear — things 
 shrouded by the night — until the sun reveals — his pure and beauteous light : — 
 so in the gloomy — darkness of thy departure I too remain — by shadows and by 
 fears tormented, — till death the hour decide — in which toward the longed-for 
 — sun of thy radiant presence I set forth. — Even as the nightingale with plain- 
 tive song, — hiding among the leaves, complains — of the harsh rustic who 
 treacherously — despoiled her sweet beloved nest — of all its tender brood mean- 
 while — she lingered absent from the well-loved bough ; — and all the grief she 
 feels — at her irreparable loss — from her sweet throat — pours out, and with 
 her song the air resounds, — and the silent night does not refuse — her duteous 
 sympathy and her complaint, — but calls to testify her grief — the heaven itself 
 as witness and the stars, — so I do not restrain — my grief, so I lament in vain 
 — the cruelty of unrelenting death." 
 
POETS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 117 
 
 camps and courts, his compositions are all pastoral or amorous, 
 and show a deep love of nature and appreciation of its beauties. 
 Still it is by the form rather than by the matter of his poems 
 that he is chiefly distinguished, and it must be confessed that 
 occasionally he gives way to the affectation and pedantry 
 common among the writers of his time. Imitating artificial 
 compositions such as the Eclogues of Vergil, it is scarcely to be 
 expected that he should be perfectly natural in tone, but he 
 thoroughly appreciated and faithfully rendered their delicacy 
 and finish. The most beautiful passages of his Eglogas take 
 the form of liras, elegant combinations of lines of eleven and 
 seven syllables (see passage quoted above). 
 
 A revolt against foreign influences in Castilian poetry was 
 headed by Cristdbal de Castillejo, a writer of the first half of 
 the sixteenth century, who at one time held the position of 
 secretary to Ferdinand, King of Bohemia, brother of Charles V. 
 He produced a violent poetical attack on foreign forms, making 
 use principally of the lines of unequal length known as estrofas 
 de pie quebrado, but also of redondillas, quintii/as, and other 
 national metres formed by various combinations of the octo- 
 syllabic line. But his adverse criticism of the poetry of his 
 time apparently applies only to its form, for he himself in his 
 amorous and satirical poems freely introduces the feeble myth- 
 ology which was the bane of literature throughout Europe in 
 the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. 
 
 Francisco de Castilla, in the Dialogue between Humanity and 
 its Comforter, employed successfully the odosilabo de pie que- 
 brado, octosyllabic verse with every third line truncated to four 
 syllables, which had already found its finest exponent in Man- 
 rique. His style, like that of most of his fellow-countrymen 
 when writing on grave and religious subjects, is lofty and pure, 
 and his language is remarkably free from affectation and 
 pedantry. Castilla, as the eminent critic Sanchez de Castro 
 justly remarks, has been unduly neglected by historians of the 
 
f 
 
 118^ SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 literature of his country. Among those who ranged them- 
 selves as the defenders of the traditional school none have 
 given better proof of what its methods are capable when 
 applied by a true poet. 
 
 Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, whose name has already 
 been mentioned in connection with Lazarillo de Tonnes 
 (pp. 88, 1 06), and who has been again referred to as a 
 historian, was a friend of Boscan, and one of the principal 
 figures of the literary as well as of the political world during 
 the reigns of Carlos V. and Felipe II. He cultivated both the 
 national and Italian forms of poetry without attaining any 
 marked success. Mendoza's verse is generally erotic and 
 mythological in character; his scholarly tastes led him to 
 admire Horace, whose worldly philosophy is somewhat feebly 
 echoed in his Epistles and Odes. He writes correctly and 
 sometimes with a certain degree of brilliancy, particularly in 
 the octosyllabic metres, but must be considered fortunate in 
 having something beside his verse on which to depend for his 
 reputation. 
 
 Among the greatest Spanish poets Fernando de Herrera 
 deserves a very high, if not the highest, place. He was born 
 in Sevilla, and lived a retired and studious life in his native city. 
 A great admirer of Garcilaso de la Vega, he published an 
 elaborate commentary on his works, citing parallel passages 
 from Italian and classical authors. Herrera was an ecclesiastic, 
 and though he is not, strictly speaking, a religious poet, he 
 drew most of his inspiration and all his wealth of imagery from 
 the Bible. The works in which this is most evident are his 
 best. When he imitates classical and Italian models the 
 result is hollow -sounding, commonplace, and declamatory. 
 Among the latter kind must be classed the numerous sonnets 
 and odes which he addressed to the Countess of Gelves, whom he 
 seems to have chosen as the object of his verses in much the 
 same manner as Don Quixote chose Dulcinea as the object of 
 
POETS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 119 
 
 his affections. The knight-errant required a lady to whom to 
 send the captives of his good right arm ; the poet required a 
 lady to whom to address his odes. The sentiments expressed 
 by either are seemingly equally unreal. It was not considered 
 wrong in Herrera's time for a priest to address a lady in an 
 amorous strain, but, had his religious superiors wished for any 
 proof that he was not really in love with the lady to whom, 
 under the names of Leonora, Eliodora, Lnmbre, and Luz, he 
 directs his verses, they had ready to their hands his poems in 
 which the unreality of his affected passion may be everywhere 
 detected. It is not in his treatment of subjects such as these 
 that we get an insight into Herrera's real power. The great 
 victory of Lepanto was sung by him in strains worthy of its 
 importance, echoing in their grand and solemn cadence the 
 books of the Old Testament. The Cancibn a Lepa?ito is the song 
 of triumph for the victory of Spain and of Christendom over 
 the infidel who for so many years had been a perpetual menace. 
 Thoroughly Christian in spirit, and equally happy in conception 
 and execution, it deserves to be placed side by side with the 
 first eclogue of Garcilaso as one of the noblest monuments 
 of the Spanish tongue. This, however, was not the work of 
 Herrera which his contemporaries considered most deserving 
 of praise. Lope de Vega, led astray by the bad taste which 
 had in his time almost entirely gained the upper hand, speaks 
 in almost enthusiastic terms of the Cancibn de San Fernando, a 
 work somewhat frigid and artificial in tone, but bearing here 
 and there the traces of a master hand. Once only did Herrera 
 approach the standard he had created in his Cancibn d Lepanto ; 
 this is in his Perdida del Rey Don Sebastian y su Ejercito. 
 The great victory of the Christian arms battling against the 
 Moslem had found a responsive echo in his verse, and once 
 more its mighty tones went to swell the dirge that mourned the 
 fate of the soldier of the Church and of the gallant army 
 sacrificed in a fit of reckless religious enthusiasm. 
 
120 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 The following extract, though short, will give better than 
 any mere description some idea of Herrera's power : — 
 
 1 ; Ay de los que pasaron confiados 
 En sus caballos y en la muchedumbre 
 De sus carros, en ti, Libia desierta, 
 
 Y en su vigor y fuerzas enganados, 
 
 No alzaron su esperanza a aquella cumbre 
 
 De eterna luz ; mas con soberbia cierta 
 
 Se ofrecieron la incierta 
 
 Vitoria, y sin volver a Dios sus ojos, 
 
 Con yerto cuello y corazon ufano, 
 
 Solo atendieron siempre a. los despojos ! 
 
 Y el Santo de Israel abrio su mano 
 
 Y los dejo, y cay 6 en despenadero 
 El carro, y el caballo y caballero. 
 
 • • • • • 
 
 I Son estos por ventura los famosos, 
 Los fuertes los beligeros varones 
 Que conturbaron con furor la tierra, 
 Que sacudieron reinos poderosos, 
 Que domaron las horridas naciones, 
 Que pusieron desierto en cruda guerra 
 Cuanto el mar indo encierra, 
 
 Y soberbias ciudades destruyeron ? 
 I Do el corazon seguro y la osadia ? 
 I Como asi se acabaron y perdieron 
 Tanto heroico valor en solo un dia ; 
 
 Y lejos de su patria derribados, 
 No fueron justamente sepultados ? 
 
 1 ' ' Alas for them who went forth confiding — in their horses and in the multi- 
 tude — of their chariots, to thee, desert Africa, — and by their strength and 
 might led astray, — raised not a prayer of hope to the pinnacle — of light 
 eternal ; but with reckless pride — promised themselves the doubtful — victory, 
 and turning not to God their eyes, — with stiffened necks and proud hearts, — 
 thought only of the spoil ! — And the Holy One of Israel opened his hand — 
 and let them fall and down the steep they crashed — the chariot and the 
 horse and the horseman . . . Can these be then the famous ones, — the mighty 
 and the warriors, — whose fury overset the earth, — and shook mighty king- 
 doms, — who overcame savage nations, — and by harsh warfare laid waste — all 
 that the Indian seas surround, — and spoiled stately cities ?- -What of their 
 dauntless hearts and bravery ? — How came it to be thus broug it low and lost, 
 — all this heroic courage in a day ; — and shattered, far off from their native 
 land, — was it not right their graves should lie? — For these we/e even as the 
 
POETS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 121 
 
 Tales ya fueron estos, cual hermoso 
 Cedro del alto Libano vestido 
 De ramos, hojas, con excelsa alteza : 
 Las aguas lo criaron poderoso, 
 Sobre empinados arboles crecido, 
 
 Y se multiplicaron en grandeza 
 Sus ramos con belleza : 
 
 Y extendiendo su sombra, se anidaron 
 Las aves que sustenta el grande cielo, 
 
 Y en sus hojas las fieras engendraron, 
 
 Y hizo a mucha gente umbroso velo ; 
 No igualo en celsitud y en hermosura 
 Jamas arbol alguno a su figura. 
 Pero elevose con su verde cima, 
 
 Y sublimo la presuncion su pecho, 
 Desvanecido todo y confiado, 
 Haciendo de su alteza solo estima. 
 Por eso Dios lo derribo deshecho, 
 A los impios y ajenos entregado, 
 Por la raiz cortado. 
 
 Many historians of Spanish literature have sought to classify 
 the lyric poets of the Golden Age, assigning some to the 
 Sevillian school, others to the school of Salamanca, of Aragdn, 
 and so forth. Divisions such as these, founded more upon the 
 accident of locality than upon any marked features common 
 to the authors included under them, are useless if not mis- 
 leading. Undoubtedly when a great author arose he collected 
 round him a number of admirers, some of whom became 
 imitators while others unconsciously reflected his manner. 
 The class-names above mentioned are useful at most only in 
 works the scope of which allows the consideration of a large 
 
 beauteous — cedar of lofty Lebanon, clothed about — with boughs and leaves, 
 and towering on high ; — the waters fed it in its pride, — grown high above the 
 tallest trees, — and in its strength it multiplied — its stately branches, — and, as its 
 shadow widened, nests were built — by the birds whose home is heaven's vault, 
 — and amidst its leaves the wild beasts bred, — and it made a shady covering 
 to much folk ; — unequalled in loftiness and in beauty — of form by any other 
 tree. — But as its green crown rose high, — pride swelled its heart, — boastful it 
 was and overweening, — esteeming nothing but its own lordly height. — And 
 thus God shattered it and cast it down — and gave it over to the infidel and 
 the stranger, — cut off even to the root.'' 
 
122 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 number of minor poets. For the purpose of the present study 
 it is enough to continue to distinguish between authors who 
 espoused the losing cause of the old national forms of metre, 
 and those who belonged to the erudite and foreign school, 
 warning the reader beforehand that not even here can a rigid 
 line of demarcation be drawn, seeing that many writers essayed 
 both methods. Before coming to the religious poets, to whom 
 belongs so large a part of the finest verse in the Spanish 
 language, one or two more secular ones must be mentioned. 
 
 A determined adherent of the old-fashioned school of verse 
 wrote under the name of the Bachelor Francisco de la Torre. 
 His works were published in 1631 by Quevedo, who professed 
 to have found them accidentally. So little is known of his 
 life that for long it was supposed that this name was an 
 assumed one, and concealed the personality of the great 
 satirist himself, who was also called Francisco, and bore the 
 title of Seilor de la Torre de Jua?i Abad. Recent investigations, 
 however, have made it practically certain that Francisco de la 
 Torre is no assumed name. Yet it is difficult to identify the 
 author of the work in question with the friend of Boscan who 
 fought in Italy and ended his life as a priest in the sixteenth 
 century, leaving behind him in contemporary cancioneros only 
 a few rough verses. The Bachelor's poems give proof of great 
 skill in handling the forms of which he made himself the 
 champion, but in spite of many graceful and tender passages, 
 they lack the inspiration necessary to establish his claim to the 
 name of poet ; he moreover frequently devotes his talents to 
 the production of feeble mythological compositions. It is 
 hard to see how critics could persuade themselves that these 
 simple and correct verses are the production of Quevedo, 
 whose strongly-marked characteristics are laboured brilliancy 
 and artificial antithesis. 
 
 The principal writers of the so-called Aragonese school 
 were the brothers Lupercio and Leonardo de Argensola, who 
 
POETS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 123 
 
 flourished during the latter part of the sixteenth and the be- 
 ginning of the seventeenth centuries. They were gentlemen of 
 good family. Lupercio, the elder, dedicated himself to public 
 life ; he became secretary to Felipe III. and afterwards 
 occupied an important position in the government of Naples. 
 Leonardo, the younger, who survived his brother, entered the 
 Church at an early age and rose to the dignity of Canon of 
 Saragossa and chronicler of his native kingdom of Aragon. 
 Both brothers were scholars, and cultivated poetry merely as a 
 pastime. The elder even attempted before his death to burn 
 his verses, and did in fact destroy a large portion of them. 
 The works of both are very similar in character ; they are good 
 translations and imitations of the odes, satires, and epistles of 
 Horace, together with certain sonnets and elegies in the Italian 
 style. They prove a very thorough appreciation of their 
 model and a masterly knowledge of the Castilian language, but 
 the highest praise they deserve is that of being neat and 
 scholarly exercises by cultivated men. The elder brother, as 
 has already been mentioned, wrote three tragedies, taking 
 Seneca as his model ; their tone is artificial and erudite, and 
 they failed to obtain the popular favour, which indeed they 
 probably never courted. 
 
 Poets of a similar character to the Argensolas, though some- 
 what less stiff and not so exclusively classical, are the Prince of 
 Esquilache and Manuel de Villegas, the latter of whom pro- 
 duced some really pretty imitations of Anacreon in seven- 
 syllable lines. But poets at this time are so numerous as to 
 make it impossible, as well as unnecessary, to mention the minor 
 ones ; so close is the similarity between the works of many of 
 them, both in matter and form, that the above brief descriptions 
 might be applied to a considerable number of writers, who, 
 neglecting the stirring themes afforded by their national history 
 both during their own time and in the past, sought their heroes 
 in Greek and Roman mythologies, the beauties of which they 
 
124 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 miserably travestied. The list, however, ends with a really great 
 name, the bearer of which, partly through his own fault and 
 partly through the irony of fortune, has become a synonym 
 for all the bad tendencies that eventually brought about the 
 decadence of Spanish literature. This is Luis de Gongora. 
 
 The stately Spanish language has a tendency, even in the 
 best hands, to become bombastic and turgid ; its rich vocabu- 
 lary and infinite resources give great facilities for the conceal- 
 ment of poverty of idea under high-sounding and sonorous 
 periods. This tendency, together with an intentional seeking 
 after obscurity and a laboured attempt at brilliancy, is already 
 evident in the poems of the courtly school of the reign of Juan 
 II. As time went on it became exaggerated and complicated 
 with the extraordinary aberrations of the euphuistic school, 
 which exercised its fatal influence during the sixteenth and 
 seventeenth centuries over all but the greatest minds among 
 the writers of Europe. In Spain the weed found a suitable soil, 
 and sprung up and flourished with a growth so rank that under 
 its shadow the old literature pined and finally died away. 
 
 When the euphuistic school perished by its own exagger- 
 ations the military glory of Spain had already waned, the great 
 effort was over, the reaction had set in and left the country 
 exhausted and without the power of producing great men in 
 either politics or literature. For all the mischief which resulted 
 from the false literary doctrine called in Spain culteranismo 
 Gongora has been held responsible, and the word gongoris??w 
 has been coined to denote all that savours of the bad taste, 
 affectation, abuse of metaphor, and violent and unnecessary 
 departure from the ordinary form of the sentence, which are 
 common to the school known in France as precieuses. For 
 degrading his great talents to the service of a literary heresy 
 of the worst kind, and exaggerating in his works the extrava- 
 gances of its adherents, Gongora is no doubt accountable, as 
 well as for the introduction of many of the foreign w :>rds and 
 
CULTERANISMO 125 
 
 idioms that went to make up the barbarous jargon, the latiniparla 
 so dear to the initiated. But he is not the first, perhaps not 
 even the worst offender, and the origin of the movement in 
 Spain lies deeper than the influence of any one author. 
 Calderdn and Quevedo are deeply infected with gongorism, and 
 the great Cervantes himself is by no means free from it. 
 Lope de Vega, who on several occasions vigorously attacked 
 the culto school while himself giving way to its aberrations-, 
 speaks thus of it in his Dorotea : — 
 
 1 Ces. Algunos grandes ingenios adornan y visten la lengua Castellana, 
 hablando, y escriviendo, orando y ensenando, de nuevas frases y feguras 
 Retoricas que la embellecen y esmaltan con admirable propiedad, a quien 
 como a Maestros . . . se debe toda veneration porque la han honrado, 
 acrecentado, ilustrado y enriquecido con hermosos y no bulgares terminos, 
 cuya riqueza aumento y hermosura reconoce el aplauso de los bien 
 entendidos : pero la mala intension de otros por quererse atrever con 
 desordenada ambition a lo que no les es li'cito, pare monstruos disformes y 
 ridiculos : . . . 
 
 Lud. Decid algo de este nombre c ulto que yo no entiendo su etimologia. 
 
 Ces. Con deciros que lo fue Garcilaso queda entendido. 
 
 Lud. 1 Garcilaso fue culto ? 
 
 Ces. Aquel poeta es culto que cultiva de suerte su poema, que no dexa 
 cosa aspera ni obscura. . . . 
 
 Gongora was born in Cordova in 1561. He studied at 
 Salamanca, took orders, and became Honorary Chaplain to 
 
 1 ' ' Ces. Certain great geniuses adorn and clothe the Castilian language in 
 their speech and writings, in their pleadings and teaching, with new phrases 
 and rhetorical figures which beautify and illuminate it with admirable nicety, 
 and to such, as masters, ... all respect is owed because they have honoured, 
 increased, diversified and enriched it with stately and select terms ; these 
 riches, increase and beauty have found their recognition in the approval of 
 men of good understanding ; but others ill-advised, whose unchecked ambition 
 has led them to dare that which is unlawful, have produced monstrous and 
 ridiculous examples of deformity. . . . 
 
 Lud. Tell me something about this word culto for I do not understand how- 
 it got that meaning. 
 
 Ces. If I tell you that Garcilaso is included under the name, that will help 
 you to understand it. 
 
 Lud. Garcilaso was culto ? 
 
 Ces. All poets are so who cultivate their verses in such a manner as to 
 leave in them nothing harsh or obscure." 
 
1 26 SPANISH LITERA TURE 
 
 Felipe III. He returned in middle age to his native place, 
 where his reputation was very great, and died there in 1627. 
 His literary life may be marked off into two very distinct 
 periods. No poet has better understood the capabilities and 
 limitations of the short Spanish metres than the Gdngora of the 
 first period. His madrigals and lyrics {letrillas) are perfect in 
 form and full of simplicity and grace. His ballads are among 
 the finest of the later contributions to the ro??iancero, and show 
 a thorough comprehension and appreciation of the spirit which 
 animated the earlier writers of this kind of verse. His many 
 and notable merits, and his success in the use of national forms 
 applied to national subjects, render the more inexplicable the 
 sudden change by which he was led to prefer mere sound 
 to sense, and to become the apostle of the affectation and 
 obscurity which was afterwards systematised by Gracian. In 
 Gongora's later works no trace can be found of the graceful 
 and witty author of pieces such as Los Dineros del Sacristan, 
 Ande yo caliente, Milagros de Corte son, and the amorous and 
 somewhat risky lyrics which, though a priest, he did not disdain 
 to write. His Panegyric of the Duke of Lerma, his Fable of 
 Polyphemus, and his Soledades are lasting memorials of the 
 depths to which a really good poet can sink when his judgment 
 has once been thoroughly perverted. So intricate and obscure 
 are they that, though received with applause by the select circle 
 of the initiated, they were found incomprehensible even by the 
 most cultivated; learned commentators at once set to work to 
 explain the writings of the great master to his admiring disciples. 
 We now come to a series of four religious poets, two of 
 whom have already been mentioned among the greatest prose 
 writers of their country. The first, and undoubtedly the most 
 famous, is Fray Luis de Leon. He was born in the year 1528. 
 His father, a lawyer of good position, sent him to the University 
 of Salamanca where he soon laid the foundation of a brilliant 
 reputation. He obtained the chair of philosophy, and subse- 
 
POETS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 127 
 
 quently that of theology. His success, however, had provoked 
 the jealousy and hatred of those whom he had defeated in the 
 public arguments and discussions appointed by statute for the 
 purpose of deciding between the claims of rival candidates for 
 university distinctions. His frank and fearless character dis- 
 regarded the pitfalls with which his path was beset ; in 1 5 7 1 he 
 was denounced to the Holy Office for having expressed an 
 opinion that the translation of the Vulgate was in certain 
 respects defective, and for having written a translation of the 
 Song of Solomon, in which he departed from the doctrines of 
 the Church by treating it as a poem of purely secular character. 
 An attempt was at the same time made to place him in 
 an odious light by showing that he had inherited Jewish blood. 
 After many preliminary inquiries carried on with the secrecy 
 customary to the Inquisition, he was cited to appear in person 
 before a court formed of its familiars. He immediately 
 adopted an attitude of complete submission, declaring his 
 absolute belief in all the doctrines of the Church, his regret 
 that his translation of the Song of Solomon written at the 
 request of a friend should have been made public by the 
 treachery of his enemies, and his willingness to abide by the 
 sentence of the tribunal before which he stood. He was 
 thrown into prison where he remained for four years, subject to 
 continual and severe examinations and to persecutions of all 
 kinds. The documents relating to his trial are still extant, 
 and we know that when in 1576 sentence was pronounced the 
 majority of his judges were still in favour of torturing their 
 prisoner for the purpose of obtaining further evidence. This 
 decision was fortunately quashed by the supreme tribunal at 
 Madrid, and Luis de Leon was declared absolved from the 
 charges brought against him ; he was, however, obliged to take 
 an oath to be in future more circumspect as to the opinions he 
 expressed, to observe strict silence as to the proceedings of the 
 tribunal, and to bear no malice against his accusers. During 
 
I2 8 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 his long imprisonment his chair in the University had not 
 been filled. On resuming his lectures crowds flocked to him, 
 expecting to hear some bitter allusion to the sufferings he had 
 undergone, but he simply rose in his place and began without 
 preamble — "As we were saying yesterday ..." 
 
 It would probably be difficult to find a better instance of 
 true Catholic submission, and it is the more admirable when 
 we consider the vast learning and resource he showed in his 
 defence. The character of Fray Luis, as shown in the whole 
 course of his life, forbids the belief that his concurrence in his 
 sentence was either affected or wrung from him by suffering. 
 Public opinion too was so strongly in his favour that he could 
 easily have excited the greatest odium against the court which 
 had heaped cruelties and indignities upon him. His long 
 imprisonment seriously affected his health, and he spent the 
 fourteen remaining years of his life in strict retirement. 
 
 The collection of lyrics which entitle Luis de Leon to rank 
 
 as a great poet as well as a great prose writer was so lightly 
 
 esteemed by its author that it would probably have perished 
 
 had it not been for Quevedo, who published it. Many of the 
 
 verses undoubtedly stand in need of the finishing touches of 
 
 the master's hand. They are divided into three books, two of 
 
 translations, one sacred and one profane, and one of original 
 
 poems. All are instinct with feeling and beauty. They give 
 
 expression to a contemplative and scholarly mind inspired by 
 
 a deep love of nature and of solitude. The following lines 
 
 illustrative of the author's manner are taken from the Ode to 
 
 Retirement :■ — - 
 
 1 ; Oh ya seguro puerto 
 De mi tan luengo error ! Oh deseado 
 Para reparo cierto 
 Del grave mal pasado 
 ; Reposo dulce, alegre, reposado ! 
 Techo pajizo adonde 
 
 1 ' ' Oh port secure — after long wanderings ; and much desired — as refuge sure 
 — from ills now past ; — sweet rest, and bright tranquillity ! — Thatched roof, 
 
POETS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 129 
 
 Jamas hizo morada el enemigo 
 Cuidado, ni se esconde 
 Invidia en rostro amigo, 
 Ni voz perjura ni mortal testigo. 
 
 Sierra que vas al cielo 
 Altisima, y que gozas del sosiego 
 Que no conoce el suelo, 
 Adonde el vulgo ciego 
 Ama el morir ardiendo en vivo fuego, 
 
 Recibeme en tu cumbre, 
 Recibeme ; que huyo perseguido 
 La errada muchedumbre, 
 El trabajar perdido, 
 La falsa paz, el mal no merecido. 
 
 • • • • • 
 
 i Ay, otra vez y ciento 
 Otras, seguro puerto deseado ! 
 No me falte tu asiento, 
 Y falte cuanto amado, 
 Cuanto del ciego error es cudiciado. 
 
 The Ode to a Calm Night may well bear comparison with 
 Wordsworth's best passages. The magnificent Ode to Music 
 has points of remarkable similarity to the Intimations of 
 Immortality ; that to the Ascension of our Lord is full of deep 
 religious feeling combined with exquisite simplicity and grace. 
 The translation of some of the Psalms and parts of the Book of 
 Job show how thoroughly Fray Luis appreciated their sublime 
 grandeur. A wonderfully spirited and impressive poem on a 
 national subject is the Prophecy of the Tagus ; the passage 
 which describes the movement of the infidel hosts towards 
 Spain to avenge the ill-starred love of Don Rodrigo carries 
 away the reader by its irresistible and harmonious flow. This, 
 
 beneath whose shade — there never dwelt malicious — care ; nor lurking — 
 envy in amicable guise, — nor lips forsworn, nor death-dealing treachery. — 
 Mountains that rise to heaven — aloft, and taste such peace — as is unknown on 
 earth, — where mankind blind — loves death and burns in living fire, — receive 
 me to your heights, — receive the hard-pressed fugitive — from erring crowds, — 
 from labour vain, — peace that is no peace, and evils undeserved. — Oh ! yet a 
 hundred times — and then again, — my port secure and much desired — I pray 
 thy resting-place be mine ; — so let all else be taken from me, — all that blind 
 error loves and covets." 
 
 K 
 
1 30 SPA NISH LITER A TURE 
 
 like many of its author's best poems, is inspired directly by 
 Horace, but even where he imitates most closely, or frankly 
 translates, Luis de Leon may be read with pleasure for his 
 stately versification, his sober yet splendid style, and the new 
 and charming lights which he so often throws upon his 
 models. 
 
 Of the life of Santa Teresa de Jesus an outline was 
 given when we spoke of the prose works which form the 
 most valuable part of her writings. As a poetess she devoted 
 herself wholly to religious subjects, and her verse everywhere 
 reveals the spirit of ardent devotion and mysticism which 
 combined so strangely with homely mother-wit in the forma- 
 tion of her character. Her style is simple and unaffected to 
 such a degree that at times it becomes almost childish. This 
 attitude seems to be purposely assumed in her carols, which 
 have the defects as well as the merits of rustic and popular 
 songs. She is, however, at her best in the somewhat artificial 
 glosas, a form of composition cultivated by most Spanish 
 poets, and consisting of the amplification and application of 
 some short rhymed motto, paradox, or proverb, with the 
 introduction of the original lines at stated intervals. Even 
 into such trifling compositions as these she breathes something 
 of her fervent religious spirit and strong individuality. A good 
 example is her gloss on the lines — 
 
 1 Vivo sin vivir en mi, 
 Y tan alta vida espero 
 Que muero porque no muero. 
 
 Here the last line forms the refrain of each verse. 
 
 San Juan de la Cruz^ another saintly and mystic poet, was 
 an imitator of Luis de Leon and a friend of Santa Teresa, to 
 whom he lent important aid in carrying out her scheme of 
 reforming the Carmelite order. It is in the works of this 
 
 1 " I live a life beside myself, — The life I hope is life so high, — I die because 
 I cannot die." 
 
POETS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 131 
 
 writer that mysticism reaches its extreme development, soaring 
 to heights where language is powerless to express the feelings. 
 The character of the saint himself and of his writings may be 
 gathered from the title of Doctor Extdtico, which was conferred 
 on him by his contemporaries. In common with the other 
 mystics he possessed a wonderful command of his native 
 tongue, and this he uses with great effect in tender and 
 passionate descriptions of the transports of the devotee. His 
 style is luxuriant with metaphors of oriental origin, imitated 
 generally from the Song of Solomon. He handles with great 
 skill and delicacy the allegory by which human love is made 
 to portray the divine. 
 
 Contemporary with Juan de la Cruz and Santa Teresa 
 was Malon de Chaide, a monk of the order of Saint Augustine. 
 His principal work is the prose life of St. Mary Magdalene, 
 into which most of his verses are introduced. Like other 
 writers of the same school he imitated Luis de Leon, but his 
 lines have often a hollow ring that is not heard in those of the 
 masters already mentioned. His verse is correct, but seldom 
 stirring ; passages of real beauty and delicacy are often 
 followed by others giving details of the life of the saint that 
 are ill -chosen for the edifying purpose for which they were 
 intended. Throughout the book can be traced a somewhat 
 harsh and intolerant spirit, from which the other mystic writers 
 are remarkably free. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 DIDACTIC WORKS AND COLLECTION OF PROVERBS 
 
 The Spanish mind seems to have been at all times singularly 
 averse to abstract thought, unless indeed sublime dreams 
 springing from ecstatic religious contemplation can be counted 
 as such. Even in this department it is noticeable that authors 
 continually have recourse to concrete metaphors and anthro- 
 pomorphic allegories in order to express their ideas. Scholastic 
 philosophy and theology were earnestly studied in the univer- 
 sities, but, in the former at least, no Spaniard attained to any 
 considerable and lasting reputation ; works on such subjects, 
 moreover, long continued to be written in Latin, and thus have 
 no place in Spanish literature. Merely local are the reputations 
 of Feyjoo, who during the last century, and of Jaime Balmes 
 (see p. 247), who more recently, did something towards brirfging 
 up the knowledge of physical and mental philosophy among 
 their fellow-countrymen to the level of that of other European 
 nations. Spanish theologians have always commanded respect 
 at Rome, but the greatest religious writers appeal rather to the 
 heart than to the intellect ; the fate of Luis de Leon and many 
 others sufficed to check candid criticism in this direction, even 
 by persons of orthodox opinions. To attribute solely to the 
 baneful effects of the Inquisition the decay of Spanish literature, 
 and the state of lethargy into which the country sank during 
 the last century, is to ignore many other equally powerful 
 
DIDACTIC WORKS 133 
 
 causes of national decay ; but there can be little doubt that 
 the terror it inspired did much to check philosophical inquiry. 
 It was only within the last hundred years that the great 
 discoveries of Bacon and Newton filtered through to Spain and 
 modified the old-fashioned notions as to man and his relations 
 to the outer world. 
 
 Besides the moral and political treatises of Quevedo, two 
 works on st atecr aft and two on criticism may be mentioned as 
 specimens of didactic writing during the Golden Age. To the 
 former class belongs the Reloj de Principes (the Dial of 
 Princes) by Antonio de Guevara, a member of the order of St. 
 Francis who, for services rendered at the time of his accession, 
 was raised to the see of Mondonedo, and appointed official 
 chronicler by the Emperor Charles V. This book furnishes a v 
 notable instance of the above-mentioned leaning to concrete 
 examples for the sake of teaching. Guevara's purpose was to 
 write a treatise for the guidance of monarchs ; this he does by 
 singling out Marcus Aurelius as a model prince, and placing 
 him in a variety of imaginary situations such as may serve to 
 illustrate his own theories. By this means he succeeds both 
 in describing a very perfect prince and in inculcating the many 
 wise and practical principles of statecraft, which he had 
 learned during his long experience of courts and diplomatic 
 affairs. Nor does he limit himself to the public life of his 
 imaginary prince ; marriage, old age, and the private duties of 
 persons of high stations, are discussed with much practical 
 wisdom. The most remarkable part of the book is that in 
 which Guevara, who had seen the war of the Co??iunidades, and 
 who lived during the most absolute period of Spanish 
 monarchy, takes the popular side and warns monarchs against 
 approaching too nearly the limit at which passive obedience, 
 goaded by oppression, suddenly changes to active resistance 
 and retaliation. In style the Reloj de Principes, like its 
 author's novels, satires, and moral works, is affected ; it is 
 
i 3 4 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 spoiled by an unnecessary display of learning and a laboured 
 effort to acquire brilliant effect. 
 
 Diego Saavedra Fajardo was, like Guevara, a churchman 
 and a diplomatist. He flourished during the reign of Felipe 
 IV. Entrusted with important missions to foreign courts, 
 Fajardo travelled over a great part of Europe. His Political 
 Undertakings, or Ideal Christian Prince, is defaced by the 
 exceedingly artificial form in which he chose to write it. He 
 says in his preface that he lacked time to polish it, but 
 it would be considerably improved if written with greater 
 simplicity. Taking as his text the arms and mottoes borne by 
 well-known families, he proceeds to deduce from them the 
 whole public and private duties of a prince. This is done 
 with considerable ingenuity and freshness, for it is the form 
 only of the book that is affected and unnatural ; its style is 
 pure and lofty, well fitted to express the really admirable 
 precepts which it contains. 
 
 Fajardo is the author of several other works. In the 
 Policy and Statecraft of the Catholic King Don Fer?iando he 
 discourses wisely of the political body in health and in disease, 
 taking as his example of the perfect ruler the astute Ferdinand, 
 to whom he attributes broad and enlightened views for which 
 historical evidence is wanting. In his Literary Republic 
 Fajardo has recourse to the vision which was so popular a 
 resource with Spanish writers. Here it is used with some 
 skill as a means of introducing the author's conception of the 
 arts and his witty judgments upon some of the great writers of 
 his country. The following estimate of Gongora is brief and 
 pointed : — 
 
 1 En nuestros tiempos renacio un Marcial cordobes en don Luis de 
 Gongora, requiebro de las musas y corifeo de las gracias, gran artifice de la 
 
 1 "In our days was born at C6rdova a second Martial in don Luis de 
 Gdngora, the darling of the Muses and coryphaeus of the Graces, a mighty 
 artist in the Castilian tongue and, more than any other skilled in playing 
 
DIDACTIC WORKS 135 
 
 lengua castellana, y quien mejor supo jugar con ella, y descubrir los donaires 
 de sus equivocos con incomparable agudeza. Cuando en las veras deja 
 correr su natural, es culto y puro, sin que la sutileza de su ingenio haga 
 impenetrables sus conceptos, como le sucedio despues queriendo retirarse 
 del vulgo y afectar escuridad : error que se disculpa con que aun en esto 
 mismo salio grande y nunca imitable. Tal vez tropezo por falta de luz su 
 Polifemo ; pero gano pasos de gloria. Si se perdio en sus Soledades se 
 hallo despues tanto mas estimado cuanto con mas cuidado le buscaron los 
 ingenios y explicaron sus agudezas. 
 
 The Corona Gbtica is, as its name implies, a narrative of a 
 period of Spanish history. Valueless from a historical point 
 of view, it is a charming model of easy narrative style. 
 
 In the sixteenth century the Spaniards began to work upon 
 their own language, and Lebrija published his celebrated 
 Vocabulario. The controversy between the champions of the 
 new artificial and euphuistic and the simple and traditional 
 school of literature was at its height. It was at this point that v 
 Juan de Valdes, the learned correspondent of Erasmus, wrote » 
 his Didlogo de la Lengua, a curious and interesting treatise 
 upon the Castilian language. It was not published till last 
 century when Gregorio Mayans y Siscar, the learned royal 
 librarian, inserted it in his Origenes de la Lengua Castellana. 
 The Didlogo takes the form of a somewhat lengthy discussion, 
 in which Valdes himself and two Italian friends are the inter- 
 locutors. It gives an informal account of its author's views as 
 to the best literary style, condemning many vulgarisms and 
 incorrect forms of expression, some of which, in spite of his 
 protests, have since taken root in the language. The Didlogo 
 
 upon it and revealing its graceful mystifications with incomparable wit. 
 When he allows his real nature to have full play, he is polished and pure, nor 
 does the subtilty of his mind make his quips unintelligible, as happened to 
 him afterward in his attempt to avoid triviality by intentional obscurity, faults 
 in excuse of which he can plead that, even here he won the first place and his 
 supremacy is unchallenged. We must admit that his Polyphemus stumbled 
 from want of light ; but he was already on the high road to glory. When 
 he went wandering in his Wilderness he found, on his return, that he was 
 the more esteemed for the care with which men of genius had sought him 
 out and explained his wit." 
 
136 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 has no pretensions to be exhaustive ; it affects to be addressed, 
 not to native Castilians, but to foreigners desirous of learning 
 the language, warning them against certain errors of speech 
 into which they are liable to be betrayed. Valdes, however, 
 allowed himself a considerable amount of latitude, and the 
 faults pointed out are by no means exclusively those to which 
 foreigners only are liable. Not the least interesting part of the 
 book is that in which he discusses the authors who best embody 
 his views. In spite of the fact that modifications of usage have 
 made many of its precepts inapplicable at the present day, the 
 Didlogo is extremely valuable to those who would appreciate 
 the best Castilian style of the best period ; the clear and 
 elegant language in which it is written shows that its author 
 was well qualified to give a verdict on the matters which he 
 discusses. The same sterling good sense, correct judgment, 
 and pure style that characterise his essay on the language are 
 to be found again in Valdes' Didlogo de Mercurio y Carbn, a 
 masterly review of some of the political, social, and religious 
 questions that were uppermost in men's minds during the 
 sixteenth century. 
 
 A writer very famous among his contemporaries of the first 
 half of the seventeenth century, and one whose brilliancy must 
 be admitted even by those who differ radically from him in 
 opinions, was Baltasar Gracian. Backed by wide reading and 
 considerable wit and ingenuity, he made himself the champion 
 of conceptismo, reducing its methods to rule in his Agudeza y 
 Arte del Ingenio. His doctrine is that the perfection of style 
 consists in an even flow of ingenious antitheses, startling 
 paradoxes, and elaborate metaphors. The object of writing 
 is, from Gracian's point of view, to call forth the admiration of 
 the reader for his author rather than to interest him in what he 
 says. These heretical and subversive principles are set forth 
 with great elaboration of classification in the most affected and 
 pedantic language. The obscurity and laboured insipidity of 
 
COLLECTION OF PROVERBS 137 
 
 Gracian's poetical works ought to have warned his admirers as 
 to the danger of putting his system into practice. 
 
 In another branch of literature Gracian attained greater 
 success, thanks to the fact that he now and then forgets his 
 literary canons and allows himself to be natural. His Criticbn 
 is a well studied allegory of human life, somewhat after the 
 fashion of the Pilgrim's Progress, but lacking its noble 
 simplicity. The hollow but sonorous maxims of his Ordculo 
 found favour outside the author's native land. They were 
 translated into many languages and long enjoyed much 
 popularity in France, where their defects, as well as their 
 merits, found a sympathetic echo, and Gracian was regarded 
 as the greatest of Spanish writers and moralists. 
 
 Spanish is richer in proverbs than any other language. 
 Among the lower orders conversation is continually adorned 
 and arguments enforced by these " terse verdicts of the concen- 
 trated practical wisdom of ages." 1 Sancho Panza's affection for 
 refranes, as they are called, is by no means a caricature of the 
 esteem in which they are held by his fellow-countrymen. Not 
 only in number, but also in point and directness, Spanish 
 proverbs are superior to those of other nations. The language 
 itself is sententious, and the dry and somewhat peculiar wit of 
 the natives finds its readiest expression in this form, which 
 frequently adds to its other charms the quaintness of words 
 and expressions of a bygone age. 
 
 Proverbs form the titles of many celebrated plays, and the 
 works of most of the best Spanish writers are freely spiced 
 with them. The oldest collection of these " miniature gospels " 
 (evangelios en minaturd)^ as they are called by Quevedo, is 
 that of the Marques de Santillana, made in the beginning of 
 the fifteenth and published early in the following century ; but 
 long before this date the Infante Don Juan Manuel, in his 
 Conde Lucanor, quoted the pithy "sayings of the old wives 
 
 1 Cervantes, Don Quixote, cap. 39. 
 
138 ' SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 of Castile." Since then the interest in proverbs has grown 
 apace, and various collections of them have been published. 
 That of the Comendador Griego in the sixteenth century 
 contains six thousand proverbs, and the number was brought 
 up by Don Juan de Iriarte, during the last century, to the 
 astonishing total of twenty-four thousand. 1 In view of these 
 figures, it is scarcely to be wondered at that Garay was able 
 in the sixteenth century to write three long letters consisting 
 entirely of proverbs. Even yet the stock in the mouths of the 
 people is probably by no means exhausted. Those who would 
 study the peculiarities of the Castilian character from books 
 cannot better employ their time than in the perusal of these 
 proverbs, and of the popular poetry (coplas, see p. 267) which 
 forms the pendant to them. 
 
 1 For full information on the subject see Sbarbi (J. M. ), Monografia sobre 
 los refran.es y las obras que tratan de ellos. 4to. Madrid, 1891. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 CERVANTES 
 
 Miguel de Cervantes 1 was born at Alcala de Henares and 
 there baptized on the 9th of October 1547. Other cities have 
 disputed the honour of being the birthplace of the most famous 
 of Spaniards, but the entry in the baptismal register, together 
 with the affection with which he always speaks of Alcala and 
 its "famous Henares," should suffice to decide the controversy. 
 Cervantes' family was noble, tracing its pedigree back to the 
 old kings and chieftains of the north, to whom Lope alludes in 
 the well-known couplet — 
 
 2 Para noble nacimiento 
 Hay en Espafia tres partes ; 
 Galicia, Vizcaya, Asturias, 
 O ya montana le llamen. 
 
 Some of the immediate ancestors of the great writer had held 
 worthy positions in the state, or had been members of the noble 
 military orders. His father was but a poor gentleman, and 
 Miguel was the youngest of four children, two girls and two boys. 
 
 The legend that the young Cervantes, like most celebrated 
 men of his time, studied at Salamanca rests on insufficient 
 evidence. Of his early life and education we know little 
 
 1 In after life Cervantes added the name of Saavedra to his own in order 
 to distinguish himself from other members of the same family. 
 
 2 ' ' Birthplaces of noble families — there are three in Spain ; — Galicia, Biscay, 
 Asturias, — or the mountain-region, as it is called." — Premio del bien hablar. 
 
1 40 SPANISH LITERA TURE 
 
 except that he was a pupil of Lopez de Hoyos, a school- 
 master of some fame in Madrid, and that, like others of his 
 schoolfellows, he contributed to the elegies published on the 
 lamented death of Isabel of Valois, the third wife of Felipe II. 
 Nor was this Cervantes' only youthful attempt at verse, for he 
 himself makes mention of other pieces, among which was a 
 pastoral poem called Filena, now lost. 
 
 At the age of twenty-two Cervantes commenced the wander- 
 ing life which brought him into such strange adventures, and, 
 by causing him to mix with all classes of society and to become, 
 as he says, "versed in misfortune," widened his sympathies 
 and gave the experience necessary for the production of one 
 of the world's greatest books. In Cardinal Acquaviva, the 
 Papal Legate, occupied at that time in Madrid on affairs of 
 state, Cervantes found the patron then necessary to a young 
 man in search of fortune. He subsequently accompanied the 
 Legate to Rome in the capacity of chamberlain. But the idle 
 life of a great churchman's household was ill-suited to his bold 
 and enterprising spirit, and in 1570 we find him at Naples 
 serving in the renowned regiment of Moncada, with which he 
 fought as a private soldier at Lepanto in the October of the 
 following year. In after life the part, humble as it was, that 
 he had taken in the greatest victory of the age never ceased 
 to be regarded by him with honest pride, in spite of the heavy 
 price he paid for his glory. For, speaking of the battle in lines 
 to which even the literary defects give pathos, he says : — 
 
 1 At that sweet moment I, unfortunate, stood with sword grasped firmly 
 in one hand, whilst from the other the blood ran down ; in my breast I 
 felt a deep and cruel wound and my left hand was shattered into fragments. 
 
 1 "A esta dulce saz6n yo, triste, estaba 
 Con la una mano de la espada assida, 
 Y sangre de la otra derramaba. 
 El pecho mlo de profunda herida 
 Sentfa llagado y la siniestra mano 
 Estaba por mil partes ya rompida." 
 
 Letter to Mateo Vazquez. 
 
CERVANTES 141 
 
 The valour of Cervantes on this occasion is fully proved by 
 the statements of his comrades. In the testimonials which the 
 elder Cervantes caused to be drawn up in the hope of gaining 
 some relief for his own pressing necessities, and aid in pro- 
 curing the release of his sons from slavery, Miguel's shipmates 
 speak in glowing terms of the way in which, heedless of the 
 fever from which he was suffering, he boarded the ship of the 
 Pasha of Alexandria, and won the wounds which gave him the 
 nickname of el manco de Lepanto (the cripple of Lepanto). 
 Notwithstanding the disablement of his left hand, and the slow 
 recovery which kept him for long a prisoner in the hospital at 
 Naples, he continued to serve as a soldier for four years more. 
 He was present at the taking of la Goleta under Don Juan de 
 Austria, the hero of Lepanto, and accompanied his old regiment 
 to Sardinia and Lombardy. In 1575, accompanied by his 
 brother, he set out for home with letters of recommendation 
 to distinguished persons. The galley, El Sol, in which they 
 sailed, when nearly at the end of her voyage, was taken by the 
 Algerian corsairs, who, at that time and long after, infested 
 the narrow seas. At the division of the booty Cervantes fell 
 to the share of a bloodthirsty renegade Greek, Deli Mami by 
 name. For five bitter years he remained a captive and a slave 
 at Algiers. Of his life during this time, and of his valour and 
 enterprise, we have contemporary testimony. Before he had 
 acquired fame as a writer, he was already widely known for the 
 strange part he played at Algiers. He eventually became the 
 property of Hassan Pasha, a renegade whose barbarous cruel- 
 ties provoked comment, even in a place where mutilations of 
 defenceless captives and brutal outrages of all kinds were 
 common. Cervantes was one of twenty-five thousand Christian 
 slaves who worked in chains for their owners, while awaiting 
 their ransom from their native land. The letters addressed to 
 persons of high position that had been found upon him at the 
 time of his capture produced an exaggerated idea of his 
 
142 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 importance, and a larger sum was demanded for his liberation 
 than his worldly position warranted. He seems to have taken 
 from the first a prominent position among his fellow-captives, 
 and he it was who planned and attempted to carry out many 
 daring attempts at escape. It is from an impartial witness 
 that we have the statement that Hassan Pasha was wont to 
 declare that, but for the one-handed Spaniard, his prisoners, his 
 ships, and his city would be safe. It is difficult to under- 
 stand why Hassan, who in Don Quixote is described as the 
 "murderer of the whole human race," did not cut short his 
 bold slave's career by a speedy execution ; we are told that he 
 was impressed by the bold bearing and clever answers of the 
 man ; and indeed Cervantes' qualities were such as to win 
 admiration even from the most brutal. In the story of the 
 captive, which forms one of the episodes of Don Quixote, 
 speaking of himself as " a certain Saavedra," he tells us that, 
 in spite of the notoriety of his attempts at escape, his master 
 never treated him harshly, and this notwithstanding the fact 
 that he was accustomed to assume the whole responsibility of 
 these daring enterprises that so often miscarried only through 
 the cowardice or treachery of accomplices. 
 
 Rodrigo de Cervantes, the elder brother of Miguel, was 
 ransomed after a comparatively short captivity, and it was 
 partly through his exertions that a sum, the payment of which 
 reduced still further the slight resources of the family, was at 
 last placed in the hands of the devoted Redemptionist Fathers, 
 in order to procure the younger brother's release. This took 
 place in 1580, and towards the end of the same year Cervantes 
 returned to Spain after an absence of ten years, little bettered 
 in fortune or prospects, but bringing with him a fund of ex- 
 perience of the characters and manners of the Algerian corsairs 
 which he afterwards turned to good account in many of his 
 writings. His services and sufferings gained him no promotion 
 — nay, on his release he had to defend himself against enemies 
 
CERVANTES 143 
 
 who accused him before the commission of the Inquisition, 
 appointed to inquire into the purity of the faith of such prisoners 
 as returned after long residence among Moslems. He again 
 joined the Figueroa regiment, in which, as well as in the 
 Moncada regiment, he had previously served, and during the 
 next two years he saw much active service both by land, in 
 the Portuguese campaign, and by sea, off the Azores. In the 
 latter campaign his elder brother gained promotion, but no 
 such good fortune fell to the lot of Miguel ; he never rose 
 above the position of a private soldier. Whilst in Portugal 
 Cervantes gained the affections of a lady of position. She 
 became the mother of his natural daughter and only child, 
 Isabel, who lived to comfort her father's old age, and after- 
 wards became a nun. 
 
 The year 1584 brought two important events in. our author's 
 life — his marriage and the publication of his first book. Of 
 his wife little is known, for Cervantes does not, like his great 
 rival Lope de Vega, allude in his writings to the domestic 
 happiness which we have reason to believe that he enjoyed. 
 She was younger than her husband, she bore him no children, 
 and shared his many trials to the end of his life. That she 
 had a kindly character may perhaps be inferred from the fact 
 that she allowed his natural daughter to live under the roof in 
 Madrid that sheltered the struggling little family, consisting of 
 herself, her husband, his daughter Isabel, his elder sister 
 Andrea, and her young daughter. The little dower brought 
 by the young wife was not sufficient to keep the wolf from the 
 door when, as happened more than once, Cervantes' character- 
 istic carelessness or the dishonesty of agents brought him into 
 financial troubles. 
 
 The work to which we have referred above is the Galatea, 
 a pastoral novel of the same character as the Diana mentioned 
 in another chapter. It is neither better nor worse than other 
 books of the same class, and only here and there does the 
 
i 4 4 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 knowledge we have of its author from other sources enable us 
 to detect some sparkle of his bright wit and quaint humour 
 amid the wearisome monotony of second-rate verse and prose 
 which, though correct and harmonious, is rendered tame by 
 the insipidity of the subject. Introduced into the book, 
 but unconnected with it in subject, is a poetical review, or 
 rather eulogy, of the principal writers of the time, entitled the 
 Canto de Caliope. It is hard to judge whether the extravagant 
 praise here expressed is sincere or ironical, or bestowed merely 
 for the purpose of gaining the favour of those to whom it is 
 addressed. Probably the motive that inspired it was a mixed 
 one partaking of each of these elements. Cervantes knew well 
 the defects of the pastoral novel ; he has elsewhere ridiculed 
 the unreal shepherds and their sickly sentiment (see p. 87), 
 but the Galatea proved successful, and it probably was this 
 success that induced him to adopt literature as a profession, 
 and to become one of the innumerable authors who thronged 
 the approaches to the gate of fame. Literature alone, how- 
 ever, would not suffice to provide the little family with the bare 
 necessities of life, and Cervantes obtained a small post under 
 Government, the duties of which included the purchase of 
 provisions for the forces. 
 
 In addition to numerous occasional pieces, Cervantes wrote 
 during middle age thirty dramas. The theatre was still in 
 its infancy, with only slightly more appliances at its disposal 
 than those above described (see p. 66). Judging from the 
 only two plays preserved, Cervantes did something towards its 
 development ; but his specific claims of having been the first 
 to reduce the number of acts from five to three (the usual 
 number in the Spanish theatre), and to introduce allegorical 
 personages, must be disallowed. Of these two plays the most 
 remarkable is the Numancia, dealing with the siege of that 
 city under Scipio Africanus. It has been praised, perhaps 
 extravagantly, by German critics, but even those who cannot 
 
CERVANTES 145 
 
 wholly agree with their verdict must admit that the scale on 
 which it is conceived, as well as certain of the scenes, are truly 
 grand. A tragedy of the most harrowing kind, its catastrophe 
 is the fall of a city and the massacre of its inhabitants. It 
 lacks almost every essential of dramatic composition, being 
 merely an assemblage of scenes taken from the life of the 
 doomed city, and worked out with glowing imagination, pathos, 
 and warm patriotic feeling. But there is no unity in its plan, 
 no plot, no true conception of the province, limitations, and 
 methods of the drama. It has, however, a special interest 
 for all admirers of the author of Don Quixote^ for it is the first 
 work which gives an insight into his genius, and it echoed one 
 of the deepest feelings of the national heart. When Palafox 
 was holding Saragossa against the victorious French armies 
 during the great struggle for Spanish independence, the 
 Niimancia was played by the defenders of the beleaguered 
 city in order to recall to the minds of the starving inhabitants 
 what Spaniards had dared and done for the same sacred cause 
 in times gone by. Its glowing verse and reckless patriotism, 
 which at other times might have sounded strained and un- 
 natural, found here a ready appreciation and response. The 
 citizens of Saragossa, more fortunate and not less bold than 
 those of Numancia, drove the besiegers from their gates, and 
 outside their shattered walls, sick, half starved, and wounded, 
 they danced throughout the night in a weird frenzy of joy to 
 the strain of the national jota. / 
 
 The interest of the other drama, the Trato de Argel (Life in 
 Algiers), is a more narrow one. In it Cervantes attempted to 
 turn to dramatic use his sad experience of a captive's life in 
 the city from which the piece takes its name. Among the 
 characters appears the " Spanish soldier called Saavedra," whose 
 cheerful disposition aided his companions to bear their mis- 
 fortunes, and whose cool daring so often nearly brought about 
 their escape from bondage. Many of the scenes must have 
 
 L 
 
i 4 6 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 been drawn from the author's personal recollections, and the 
 story-teller's talent does something to relieve the heavy verse, 
 part of which is put into the mouth of the frigid allegorical 
 personages whom, as Cervantes proudly imagined, he had first 
 introduced to the stage which they so awkwardly cumbered. 
 
 Even to a successful dramatist — and Cervantes tells us that 
 his plays were favourably received — writing for the stage was 
 not a lucrative profession, unless indeed the playwright were 
 endowed with the marvellous fertility of Lope de Vega, whose 
 fame began to spread about the time when Cervantes turned 
 his attention to a department of literature in w r hich he was 
 better fitted to excel. In 1588 Cervantes was living in Seville. 
 Rinconete y Cortadillo, a story written in picaresque style, and 
 containing many expressions in germania or " thieves' latin," 
 gives the fruit of his observations and a vivid picture of the 
 low and criminal life of the bright city of the Guadalquivir. 
 The descriptions of the organised guild of assassins and pick- 
 pockets, with its president, the famous Monipodio, and the 
 school in which artistic thieving was taught, are still unsur- 
 passed by any one of the numerous imitations to w T hich they 
 have given rise. The Novelets Ejemplares, or short stories of 
 which Rineonete y Cortadillo is one of the best, were not 
 published until 1613, when the first part of Don Quixote had 
 already run through several editions. They were probably 
 written at various periods and laid by until their author could 
 find a publisher for them. In them we see Cervantes in many 
 moods, yet always wearing a bold face, although he must often 
 have been driven nearly to despair by adverse fortune. They 
 are the best of all his works with the exception of Don Quixote, 
 and in style, finish, and correctness greatly surpass the master- 
 piece. Written in an age in which coarseness of expression 
 was scarcely considered a defect, they are, with the exception 
 of one, the authenticity of which has been disputed, almost 
 entirely unobjectionable on this score. Their range of subject 
 
CERVANTES 147 
 
 is wide, but they are all scenes from contemporary life. La 
 Gitanilla (The Gipsy-girl), which forms one of the collection, 
 is the simple story of a dancing girl, told with all the charm of 
 Cervantes' narrative style. In the heroine is found, probably 
 for the first time, a character which has since been made use 
 of in almost every literature. Victor Hugo's Esmeralda repre- 
 sents the same untamed yet womanly spirit preserving much 
 of its innate purity amidst the most degrading surroundings. 
 La Gitanilla contains the following praises of gipsy life, prob- 
 ably the finest passage of Cervantes' prose : — 
 
 1 Somos seiiores de los campos, de los sembrados, de las selvas, de los 
 montes, de las fuentes y de los rios : los montes nos ofrecen lena de balde, 
 los arboles frutas, las vinas uvas, las huertas hortaliza, las fuentes agua, los 
 rios peces, y los vedados caza, sombras las penas, aire fresco las quiebras, ' 
 y casas las cuevas : para nosotros las inclemencias del cielo son oreos, 
 refrigerio las nieves, baiios la lluvia, musicas los truenos, y hachas los 
 relampagos : para nosotros son los duros terrenos colchones de blandas 
 plumas : el cuero curtido de nuestros cuerpos nos sirve de arnes impene- 
 trable que nos defiende : a nuestra lijereza no la impiden grillos, ni la 
 detienen barrancos, ni la contrastan paredes : a nuestro animo no le tuercen 
 cordeles, ni le menoscaban garruchas, ni le ahogan tocas, ni le doman 
 potros : del si al no, no hacemos diferencia cuando nos conviene ; siempre 
 nos preciamos mas de martires que de confesores : para nosotros se crian 
 las bestias de carga en los campos, y se cortan las faltriqueras en las 
 ciudades : no hay aguila, ni ninguna otra ave de rapina que mas presto se 
 a balance a la presa que se le ofrece, que nosotros nos abalanzamos a las 
 
 1 ' ' We are lords of the plains, of the fields, of the forests, of the groves, of the 
 springs and of the rivers ; the groves afford us wood gratis, the trees fruit, 
 the vines grapes, the gardens green stuff, the springs water, the rivers fish, 
 and the parks game, the rocks shade, the gorges fresh breezes, and the caves 
 houses : for us the inclemency of the sky is refreshment, the snow coolness, 
 the rain our bath, the thunder music, and the lightning a torch : for us the 
 hard earth is a bed of soft feathers ; the tanned leather of our bodies serves us 
 as an impenetrable armour of defence ; neither fetters nor precipices check 
 our agility nor do walls confine us ; our spirit cannot be bent by bonds nor 
 conquered by the rack, nor stifled by torture, nor vanquished by the block ; 
 we distinguish but little between ' yes ' and ' no ' when it is to our advantage ; 
 our pride is rather to be martyrs than confessors ; for us the beasts of 
 burden are bred on the plain, and purses are cut in the cities ; no eagle 
 or other bird of prey is more swift to pounce upon the quarry than we 
 to seize the opportunity which may result in our gain : many in short are the 
 
1 48 SPANISH LITER A TURE 
 
 ocasiones que algtin interes nos seiialen : y finalmente, tenemos muchas 
 habilidades que felice fin nos prometen ; porque en la carcel cantamos, en 
 el potro callamos, de dfa trabajamos, y de noche hurtamos, y por mejor 
 decir avisamos que nadie viva descuidado de mirar donde pone su hacienda : 
 no nos fatiga el temor de perder la honra, ni nos desvela la ambicion del 
 acrecentarla : ni sustentamos bandos, ni madrugamos a. dar memoriales, ni 
 a. acompanar magnates, ni a solicitar favores : por dorados techos y suntu- 
 osos palacios estimamos estas barracas y movibles ranchos : por cuadros y 
 paises de Flandes los que nos da la naturaleza en esos levantados riscos y 
 nevadas peilas, tendidos prados y espesos bosques que a cada paso a los 
 ojos se nos muestran : somos astrologos rusticos, porque como casi siempre 
 dormimos al cielo descubierto, a todas horas sabemos las que son del dia y 
 las que son de la noche : . . . un mismo rostro hacemos al sol que al hielo, 
 a la esterilidad que a la abundancia : en conclusion, somos gente que 
 vivimos por nuestra industria y pico, y sin entremeternos con el antiguo 
 refran, iglesia, 6 mar, 6 casa real, tenemos lo que queremos, pues nos con- 
 tentamos con lo que tenemos. 
 
 The Coloquio de los Perros (Dialogue of the Dogs) recalls by 
 its title and subject Burns's masterpiece, and, like the Twa Dogs, 
 contains much of the writer's rough and ready practical philo- 
 sophy of life. Cervantes saw clearly the weaknesses of his 
 fellow-men, but neither their failings nor the harsh treatment 
 which he received at their hands altered the sweet singleness 
 of his character, or spoiled one of the bravest and most 
 chivalrous natures that the world has ever seen. 
 
 Cervantes' dreams of advancement, and of gaining an 
 
 arts to which we look for a happy end ; for in prison we sing, on the scaffold 
 we are silent, by day we work, by night we steal or, to speak more correctly, 
 we are a warning to men not to mislay their property : neither does the fear 
 of loss of reputation weigh upon us, nor the desire of increasing it keep us 
 awake : party feeling does not trouble us, nor do we rise early to present 
 petitions, or to attend levies, or beg for favours : precious to us as gilded roofs 
 and sumptuous palaces are these huts and movable tents ; our pictures and 
 Dutch landscapes are those that nature offers in these lofty peaks and snow- 
 covered rocks, broad meadows and deep woods, which we have ever before 
 our eyes ; untaught astronomers we are, for, as we almost always sleep under 
 the sky, we can tell the hour by day or by night, . . . neither heat nor cold, 
 want nor plenty affect our mood : in short we are people that live by our 
 own cunning and resource, and little we reck of the old proverb ' the church 
 or the sea, or the king's household,' * yet we have what we want for we are 
 content with what we have." 
 
 * I.e. the three professions suitable for a gentleman. 
 
CERVANTES 
 
 149 
 
 assured position in state employment, were not yet crushed out 
 of him by continual failure. In 1590 he forwarded to Philip 
 II., the king whom he had so well ; served in subordinate 
 positions, a petition that he might be elected to one of certain 
 offices of minor importance in America, or " the Indies " as it 
 was then called. But he was not well fitted to elbow his way 
 to the throne through the midst of the innumerable place- 
 hunters by whom it was beset. His petition, though not 
 absolutely disregarded, was not granted; he became a tax- 
 gatherer, and shortly afterwards suffered three months' im- 
 prisonment on account of his inability to refund certain sums 
 of trivial amount that had been entrusted by him to a dishonest 
 person. His fortunes now seemed nearly desperate, but at 
 this juncture occurred the events that first suggested the work 
 by which he is best known. 
 
 His duties as a collector of rents brought him to the little 
 town of Argamasilla, situated in the bleak and parched district 
 of La Mancha. Here, for reasons which will probably remain 
 for ever unknown, he aroused the enmity of the authorities. 
 He was for some time imprisoned in the cellar of a house which 
 stands to this day, and which has recently been used for the 
 purpose of printing one of the finest editions of the works of 
 its former tenant. For the wrong thus done him he avenged 
 himself in Don Quixote. The Manchegos are a hardy race, 
 somewhat rougher in manners and exterior than their neigh- 
 bours, and endowed with a sharp-wittedness that easily degener- 
 ates into cunning. They have, however, sterling qualities and 
 frequent flashes of bright imagination. For all their virtues 
 Cervantes gives them full credit. The satire upon their fail- 
 ings, interwoven in the History of the Ingenious Knight^ is far 
 removed from vituperation ; the traces of bitter memories are 
 few and far between. Unsuccessful attempts have been re- 
 peatedly made to show that the unamiable characters — they 
 are not many — in Don Quixote are real personages. This 
 
150 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 theory contradicts its author's distinct denial of any such 
 hidden meaning, and his reiterated assertion that his purpose 
 was merely to abolish the absurd and mischievous books of 
 chivalry. Cervantes' satire was not directed against indi- 
 viduals. Against innkeepers, duennas, moriscos, and a certain 
 class of the clergy, he seems indeed to have cherished a 
 grudge, which probably had its origin in dislike to individual 
 members of these classes. 
 
 To analyse a book so well known as the History of the 
 Ingenious Knight would be worse than useless, for its merits 
 lie rather in its details than in its general plan. A few general 
 observations must be made, for authorities differ widely about 
 the light in which it is to be regarded, and still the controversy 
 rages as to whether it is gay or sad in tendency, and how far 
 the author was conscious that he was writing what may be 
 taken to be an allegory of human life. As to the former question 
 it would seem certain that Cervantes' intention was to write a 
 book that should provoke mirth ; but he wrote as his heart 
 felt. He had not seen a cheerful side of life, and was already 
 on the verge of old age. He declares more than once that his 
 book is destined to have a world-wide reputation, but we must 
 not attach too much importance to these statements, for Don 
 Quixote is not the only book for which the author prophesied 
 a brilliant future, and, even when its success was assured, " this 
 withered, wrinkled, capricious child of his genius " does not 
 seem to have been his favourite. It is clear also, both from 
 the carelessness which allowed the first part to rerttain for years 
 without the corrections of which it stood so much in need, and 
 from the tone in which contemporary writers speak of the book, 
 that it was not supposed to be written with any serious purpose. 
 Some of the great men of the time speak slightingly of it, and 
 Lope de Vega, influenced probably by the jealousy which 
 formed so salient a feature of his character, says in a letter, 
 "nobody is silly enough to praise Don Quixote." Even if 
 
CERVANTES 151 
 
 the allegorical meaning is admitted, it cannot have been this 
 that commended the book to the vulgar and caused its un- 
 precedented success. 
 
 At the end of the sixteenth century, literature, with the ex- 
 ception of the drama, had become stereotyped ; even the " picar- 
 esque " novel was losing its freshness, and as yet no genius had 
 sprung up to create a new form. How popular the romances 
 of chivalry had been is proved by the extraordinarily intimate 
 knowledge of a great number of them possessed by Cervantes 
 himself. But this popularity was on the wane, and while 
 admitting that it was Don Quixote who gave the death-blow 
 to the "innumerable lineage of Amadis," it is impossible to 
 attribute solely to his influence the fact that after his appear- 
 ance no single book of this kind was written or reprinted. The 
 real secret of the contemporary success of Don Quixote is to be 
 found in the fact that the great body of authors had lost touch 
 with the public ; they wrote on certain conventional lines in 
 order to gain mutual commendations and laudatory sonnets. 
 Cervantes' venture brought to the general reader what he 
 wanted, and he refused any longer to be amused according to 
 the goodwill and pleasure of a literary class. Cervantes copied 
 his characters from life, and from types that were common in 
 his own day ; they bear strongly the impress of their time and 
 country, but behind lie the motives and passions that have 
 swayed men in all ages. Don Quixote himself was not meant 
 to represent a pure and noble character battling with a world 
 that did not understand it. Its author's experience had taught 
 him that in this world nothing is utterly bad, and nothing is 
 thoroughly good. It seems impossible to ignore the fact that 
 his hero is sometimes grotesque and almost pitiable, and that 
 his creator takes delight in the bufferings he receives. No 
 amount of minute study of its pages can hope to discover the 
 secret of this great book, for it is all things to all men, reflect- 
 ing continually the mood of the reader, and conveying to him 
 
/ 
 
 152 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 more or less meaning according to his mental capacity. Even 
 so the Spanish peasant sings : — 
 
 1 En este mundo, senores, 
 No hay ni verdad ni mentira, 
 Que todo esta en el color 
 Del cristal con que se mira. 
 
 The first part of Don Quixote gave to its author fame, 
 but little, if any, pecuniary profit. The Duke of Bejar, to 
 whom it was dedicated, allowed him to languish in poverty. 
 He followed the court from Madrid to Valladolid under Felipe 
 III., and an insight is given into his private affairs during his 
 residence in the latter city by the depositions in a murder case 
 in which he and other members of his household appeared as 
 witnesses. From these we learn that he " wrote and negotiated 
 affairs," and that his womenfolk contributed with needlework 
 to the maintenance of the family. What the nature of the 
 " affairs " was we do not know ; as for the writing, it seems 
 likely that his pen employed its bold firm characters in copy- 
 ing legal documents. Cervantes had now established his 
 reputation as a literary man, but the attention he received 
 took the form rather of malignant attacks prompted by jealousy, 
 than of acceptance into the ranks of the great authors of the 
 age. He had certainly his friends, but with Lope de Vega and 
 * Gdngora, the idols of the time, against him, his chance of an 
 impartial judgment was small indeed. Those who attacked 
 him had more interest in undermining his reputation than 
 friends, such as Quevedo and the Argensolas, had in defending 
 it. At any rate he seems now to have had no difficulty in 
 finding publishers for his works, for it was during the years 
 1613 to 1615 that the first editions of the Novelets Ejemplares, 
 Viage del Parnaso, and the Comedias appeared. Of the Novelets, 
 for which their author claims, with some show of reason, 
 
 1 " In this world, good sirs — there is neither truth nor falsehood, — all lies 
 in the colour — of the glass through which we look." 
 
CERVANTES 153 
 
 the distinction of being the first specimens in Castilian of the 
 novel of adventure, a brief mention has already been made. 
 In the Voyage to Parnassus Cervantes once more sought the 
 favour of the poetic muse whom he had so often wooed, and 
 who had so seldom proved kind. In this long poem only here 
 and there does she vouchsafe a smile to her old admirer. Its , 
 general plan is, with candid acknowledgments, taken from a 
 book bearing the same title by Caporali, an Italian poet of 
 secondary merit. The author, appealed to by Apollo for help, 
 calls together the good poets for the purpose of driving out the 
 poetasters from the Hill of the Muses. Cervantes had already 
 given proof of his fondness for indulging in mild and generally 
 laudatory criticism in the Canto de Caliope, in Don Quixote^ 
 and elsewhere. His good nature precluded a candid judg- 
 ment of contemporary merit ; moreover serious criticism, if it 
 took an adverse form, would have been considered a breach of 
 good manners in the age in which he lived. He bestows what 
 seems to us extravagant praise with equal lavishness upon good 
 and upon second-rate authors. He redeems his poem from 
 monotony by flashes of quaint rich fancy, and by a sly irony 
 which was the only weapon that the kind heart allowed itself 
 to use even against those who had wounded it most brutally. 
 So much for its literary worth. To all lovers of its writer, to 
 those who know him aright and who seek in his works the 
 brave, generous, and chivalrous nature that inspired them, the 
 Viage del Parnaso will always be most precious. With the 
 exception of his last work, it is the one in which we learn most 
 of himself, his ideals, his aspirations, and the long struggle that 
 so seldom wains; from him a bitter word. 
 
 The six comedias wherewith Cervantes for the second time 
 sought to gain a place among the ever - increasing crowd of 
 playwrights by whom the theatre was beset, are of slight merit ; 
 they are never acted and seldom read ; even their author did 
 not value them highly. Not so the six farces which appeared 
 
154 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 together with them. These are written to suit the popular 
 taste, and in more natural tone than the comedies ; their humour 
 is coarser than is general with Cervantes. In their sprightly and 
 rapid movement, and in their artless simplicity of form, they 
 recall the work of Lope de Rueda, whom Cervantes had seen 
 and admired many years before. The scenes, too, of some of 
 them are such as their author knew better than the haunts 
 of the cloaked and sworded gallants after whom the- class of 
 dramas that deal with the minor nobility {hidalgos) is named. 
 Cervantes had not Quevedo's perverse leaning towards low 
 life, but he was thoroughly intimate with the habits and ways 
 of thinking of the poorer classes, and could treat them with 
 tenderness and delicacy. The creator of Maritornes had indeed 
 wide sympathies. 
 
 The profits of the first part of Don Quixote had gone into 
 the pockets of the booksellers, both those to whom it belonged 
 and those who, as frequently happened, brought out pirated 
 editions. Whether Cervantes, on concluding it, intended to 
 publish a second part is uncertain, for his final words are 
 ambiguous. Success encouraged him, and he set to work. 
 When his continuation was already partly written, and had 
 been announced in the preface to the novels, there appeared a 
 spurious second part published at Tarragona, bearing on its 
 title-page the probably fictitious name of Avellaneda. Who its 
 author was will probably never be known, but we may infer 
 from passages of his book that he was a churchman, and a 
 friend and admirer of Lope de Vega, between whom and 
 Cervantes there existed a feud of long standing. In this 
 literary quarrel Lope's " universal jealousy," well known to his 
 contemporaries, had caused him occasionally to play a mean 
 and ungenerous part, though at other times he made amends, 
 once even ranking his great rival as equal in wisdom to " Cicero 
 and Juan de Mena." x Guided by these slight indications, an 
 
 1 Premio del bien hablar. 
 
 I 
 
CERVANTES 155 
 
 English Cervantist of the highest merit has started a theory 
 that the book was written by the great dramatist himself, or, at 
 least, with his knowledge and consent, and that its purpose 
 was deliberately to spoil Cervantes' work and bring its author 
 into contempt. Of neither view have we sufficient proof. Mr. 
 Watts' ingenuity and industry, backed by intimate knowledge 
 of the literary history of the time, fail to trace the forgery to 
 Lope, whom he apparently dislikes as much as he loves 
 Cervantes. It may be admitted that the author of the 
 spurious second part utterly failed to grasp the spirit of the 
 story he attempted to continue, and that his book does not in 
 any way bear comparison with that of Cervantes, against whom 
 his animosity continually breaks out in personal attacks in the 
 worst possible taste. But Avellaneda was not the first in Spain 
 to attempt to take an unfair advantage of another's literary 
 success, and it was not to be expected that the same age 
 should produce two geniuses capable of writing Do?i Quixote. 
 The spurious second part is neither better nor worse, nor in- 
 deed more indecent, than the generality of "picaresque" stories. 
 If we could be sure that Cervantes had but one enemy, we 
 might safely attribute Avellaneda's book to Lope de Vega. 
 
 In 16 1 5 appeared the genuine second part, and in it 
 Cervantes with perfect good temper and dignity retaliates for 
 the great wrong that had been done him, and the brutal personal 
 attack. The real Sancho, overflowing with an increased fund 
 of proverbs, treats his counterfeit with the contempt he deserves, 
 and Avellaneda and his work are pulled to pieces in most 
 masterly style. But the second part has not the freshness of 
 the first ; it is more studied, more correct, and more artificial. 
 Its only rival in its own line is the first part; the broad 
 humour, the wit, and the pathos are the same, but the un- 
 conscious light-heartedness is gone, and here and there the 
 author, now nearly seventy years of age, seems to grow a little 
 weary ; the characters, which have developed since the book 
 
156 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 began, are here stereotyped, and we cannot help regretting the 
 day when knight and squire first sallied forth discoursing 
 pleasantly, with the whole world before them, and seeking the 
 unknown adventures which were to bring out their strongly- 
 contrasted individuality. 
 
 But the second part of D071 Quixote was thoroughly 
 successful, and Cervantes was now held in great esteem. He 
 was still very poor, but to that he was accustomed. After 
 fifty years of effort his genius was at last appreciated, and his 
 head was full of literary projects, including a second part of 
 the Galatea, which still held a high place in his affections. 
 This book was never written, but Cervantes lived to finish his 
 Persiles y Sigismimda, struggling to beat back fast-approach- 
 ing death until it should be completed. It had been in hand 
 for some time, and he said that it would be " either the best 
 or the worst book of entertainment in Spanish." It is neither. 
 Persiles and Segismunda are lovers to whom the fates are 
 adverse, and who roam about the world somewhat aimlessly 
 until at last they are happily united. The chronology and 
 geography of the book are intentionally hazy ; the changes of 
 scene are so rapid, the characters and their adventures so 
 numerous, and the plot so complicated, that it reads rather like 
 the argument of a book than a complete story. This wealth of 
 imagination in a man so old, worn, and broken, is indeed 
 astonishing. For Cervantes was now near his end ; his disease, 
 as he well knew, was dropsy, but he worked on till the last, 
 brave and unrepining. Three weeks before his death he 
 penned the touching dedication of his last work to the Count 
 of Lemos, the same to whom he had addressed the second part 
 of Don Quixote. In the Prologue, one of the most character- 
 istic passages of his whole works, he had already bid good-bye 
 to life with cheerful resignation in the simple words: "Good- 
 bye to quips ; good-bye to cranks ; good-bye to light-hearted 
 friends ; for I am a-dying, and longing to meet you soon in 
 
CERVANTES 157 
 
 the happiness of another life." 1 ". On the 19th of April he 
 passed away, within ten days of the date of the death of 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 That all his life he had been a faithful son of the Church is 
 made abundantly certain in his writings, in spite of the in- 
 ferences that bigotry has attempted to draw from his slighting 
 words about ecclesiastics of a certain kind, and from the fact 
 that the Inquisition at its worst period found excuse for defacing 
 some of his works. Before the end he assumed the habit of 
 St. Francis according to the custom of his age and country. 
 He was buried by his own request according to the simple rite 
 of his order, in the Trinitarian convent in which his daughter 
 had taken the veil. When the nuns changed their quarters, his 
 bones were removed, along with others, so that they are no 
 longer distinguishable. 
 
 Looking back on his great work we try to explain the charm 
 which it possesses for high and low, rich and poor, learned and 
 simple. In it we find no model of literature, no splendour of 
 style ; nay, the writing is often careless and slipshod. Surely 
 the truth is that Cervantes and his work interest humanity 
 because he and, consequently, it are so intensely human \ 
 because he neither railed at nor eulogised his fellow-men, but 
 wrote of them as one who felt in himself the germ of all their 
 failings, and all their virtues ; and thus the love he bore his 
 kind is returned to him in full. The interest of Don Quixote 
 is the same as that afforded by the study of human nature and 
 the conditions under which we live ; in both are found the 
 same inexplicable contrasts and contradictions between higher 
 aspirations and uncompromisingly brutal realities ; in both but 
 a hair's-breadth separates the sublime from the ridiculous. Sad 
 it is to think how those of his own time failed to appreciate 
 the supreme courage of this war-worn and broken soldier, with 
 
 1 "Adios, gracias ; adios, donaires ; adios, regocijados amigos, que yo me 
 voy muriendo y deseando veros presto contentos en la otra vida." 
 
158 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 " aquiline profile, chestnut hair, smooth and unwrinkled brow, 
 bright eyes, and silvery beard," l who with uncomplaining cheer- 
 fulness bore poverty, neglect, and the harsh treatment of his 
 fellows, and as a token of great-hearted forgiveness left behind 
 him one of the world's treasures, a book that will laugh with 
 the gay and light-hearted, will weep with the despondent, afford 
 pleasure to the most foolish, and food for thought even to the 
 wisest. 2 
 
 1 See the Prologue to the Novelas Eje?nplares. 
 2 See the Prologue to Don Quixote. 
 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 LOPE DE VEGA 
 
 After the somewhat crude though powerful efforts of Cervantes 
 the drama passed at once into the hands of a remarkable man, 
 who not only gave it its final form and excelled in all its 
 departments, but by the amount rather than by the merits of 
 his work eclipsed all other Spanish dramatists. 
 
 Lope Felix de Vega Carpio, the most voluminous writer of 
 ancient or modern times, was born in Madrid in 1562, and 
 received his early education in the newly founded Imperial 
 College. We have it on his own authority that he gave proof 
 in early infancy of his faculty for versification. His first plays 
 were written before he was twelve years old. The roving and 
 adventurous spirit characteristic of the men of his age and 
 country was strong within him. At thirteen he ran away from 
 school with one of his companions, but fell into the hands of 
 the police at Astorga and was sent back to Madrid by a kindly 
 magistrate. At fifteen he enlisted and served under the 
 Marques de Santa Cruz during the Portuguese and African 
 campaigns in the same regiment with Cervantes. He did not 
 remain long in the army, but returned to Madrid, where he 
 entered the household of Don Jeronimo Manrique, the bishop 
 of Avila, who wisely sent the stripling poet to Alcala to continue 
 his studies. Of his first patron he always speaks in terms of 
 respectful affection, but so grave a centre was ill-suited to the 
 
160 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 gay young soldier-poet, and he became secretary 10 the Duke 
 of Alva, grandson of the great nobleman of that name. His 
 first important work is the Arcadia^ a pastoral novel in no wise 
 remarkable except for the facility of its verse, and the fact 
 that it contains many episodes of its author's life under 
 the name of Belardo, which he habitually adopts when he 
 figures in his own writings ; the unusual sprightliness of 
 its " shepherds " amidst their unnatural surroundings con- 
 stitutes it a favourable specimen of a grotesque and almost 
 worthless class. 
 
 Love adventures succeeded one another rapidly in Lope's 
 life, and at one moment we find him preparing to take orders. 
 But a new affection threw all his grave thoughts to the winds, 
 and he married Dona Isabel de Urbina. Shortly afterwards he 
 fought a duel with a gentleman whom he had ridiculed in 
 public and, having wounded him seriously, was obliged to leave 
 Madrid. He took refuge in Valencia, then the centre of a 
 brilliant circle of dramatists and poets including in their number 
 Guillen de Castro. While at Valencia he heard of his wife's 
 illness in Madrid, and hurried back in time to spend some 
 months in her company before her death. He mourned for 
 her in an " Eclogue," so full of mannerisms and so artificial that 
 it utterly fails to express the grief that he probably really felt. 
 His home being broken up he again took military service and 
 joined the Invincible Armada, which was then being fitted 
 out. During this disastrous expedition his brother was killed, 
 but neither this private bereavement nor the public misfortunes 
 checked the flow of his verses. Encouraged probably by the 
 partial success that had been attained by Luis Barahona de 
 Soto in his Ldgrimas de Angelica, Lope conceived a plan of 
 continuing Ariosto's great poem, and whiled away the dreary 
 hours of his voyage by the composition of La Her?nosura 
 de Angelica, a work possessing such merit as is consistent 
 with the circumstances of its being a continuation of the 
 
LOPE DE VEGA 161 
 
 work of a great poet and hastily written by a very young 
 author. 1 
 
 On his return to Spain with the shattered remnant of the 
 great fleet, Lope again married, and for some time appears to 
 have lived quietly and happily, working hard for the stage. A 
 son was born to him, but died at the age of seven years, and 
 shortly afterwards Lope found himself again a widower. His 
 little son, Carlillos as he affectionately calls him, had been very 
 dear to him, and he felt the blow most deeply* Fame and even 
 riches had come to him after years of hard work, but he was 
 alone in the world, for his natural daughter, Marcela, whom he 
 fondly loved, entered a Trinitarian convent, and her brother 
 became a soldier. Lope now joined the order of St. Francis, a 
 congregation of which his great rival Cervantes was a member, 
 and afterwards became a priest and a familiar of the Inquisition. 
 In the fulfilment of the duties of these grave offices he was 
 punctiliously exact, but they did not prevent him from con- 
 tinuing to write for the stage which he had now, as Cervantes 
 says, "nearly monopolised." Year by year the immense mass 
 of his works continued to grow, while their author lived alone 
 in his little house in Madrid, occupied in works of charity and 
 in tending the little garden which we know so well from his 
 own descriptions and those of his contemporaries. It is sad to 
 relate that certain documents, lately brought to light, go to 
 show that age had not stamped out his passions, and that, 
 though a priest, Lope's life was, for a time at least, not alto- 
 gether blameless. Great personages sought the friendship of 
 | the idol of the populace, the "prodigy of nature" {tnonstruo de 
 la naturaleza), as he was called, and brought with them into his 
 retirement the passions and struggles of the outer world. 
 Certain it is that Lope repented bitterly before the end. Mis- 
 fortunes, the precise nature of which we do not know, overtook 
 
 1 For Lope's other epic and mock epic poems, see the chapter on Epic 
 Poetry, pp. 223-228. 
 
 M 
 
1 62 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 his old age and he relapsed into a settled melancholy. He 
 had always been an agreeable companion, simple and un- 
 assuming in manner, and to the end he continued to receive 
 his friends and converse with them, chiefly on religious matters. 
 He died in 1635, worn out as much by the harsh discipline to 
 which he had latterly submitted himself as by the weight of 
 years. 
 
 During his lifetime his popularity had been extraordinary ; 
 kings and popes had done him honour, and his funeral was 
 made an occasion for an elaborate display, befitting the esteem 
 in which he was held. The magnificent procession of friends, 
 noblemen, men of letters, and ecclesiastics, that accompanied 
 him to the grave, turned aside in order that Marcela, the nun, 
 might look forth on it from the lattice windows of her convent. 
 The mourning of Spain was shared by other countries whither 
 the Spanish language had followed her victorious arms ; Paris, 
 Milan, and Naples contributed to the laudatory poems 
 dedicated to his memory. These fill two large volumes ; for 
 his contemporaries rated him higher than any poet of ancient 
 or modern times. 
 
 Turning to the works on which this exaggerated estimate 
 is founded, one is struck, at first view, merely by their bulk. 
 The exact number of Lope's dramatic works cannot be known, 
 for, as he himself complains, even during his lifetime, many 
 inferior works were brought out in his name by unscrupulous 
 authors and actors desirous at any price of gaining the public 
 ear. Many of the plays also to which he lays claim in the 
 list which he drew up at the request of his friends have 
 disappeared. A reasonable estimate brings up the number 
 of his plays to fifteen hundred, exclusive of seven 
 hundred autos, short farces, and interludes. Besides these 
 Lope wrote innumerable sonnets, occasional verses, and a 
 I whole series of excellent ballads, as well as novels and epic 
 and mock poems. His dramas have been classified as 
 
 I 
 
LOPE DE VEGA 163 
 
 tragedies ; legendary plays, heroic, historical, and sacred ; 
 comedies of intrigue, of manners, and picaresque ; and autos 
 sacramentales. But this is obviously a cross-classification and 
 is of little use in dealing with the immense mass of his plays, 
 only about a third of which have been published. The 
 difference between his comedies and tragedies consists often 
 merely in the nature of their ending. Change but the names 
 of some of his so-called legendary or religious plays, alter an 
 expression here and there, and they at once become comedies 
 of the ordinary Spanish type. 
 
 In every branch of the dramatic art Lope attained such 
 eminence that his works were treated as models by all later 
 Spanish writers, and so long as the national drama existed his 
 influence is everywhere apparent. The play of the "cloak a nd>*" 
 sword " (comedia de capa y espada) may almost be said to be 
 his own invention, and it was he who introduced its peculiar 
 features into every department of Spanish fiction. The cloak 
 and sword play is essentially the play of manners • its characters 
 offer little or no variety; the scene is always some Spanish 
 town, and the plot invariably centres round the love intrigue 
 of persons in the middle or upper classes of life, regulated by 
 a conventional code of honour so strict that it replaces the 
 abstract "Necessity" of the allegorical drama. A host of 
 minor characters are introduced generally as servants, and 
 among these a secondary plot is developed, running parallel 
 to the main one. Careful delineation of character is not 
 attempted ; the whole interest lies in the ingenious intricacy 
 of the plot and the vivid representation of a brilliant and 
 picturesque but somewhat shallow and uniform state of 
 society. In reading these pieces, the greatest attention is 
 required in order to follow the main thread throughout 
 the maze of complications (enredos) so dear to a Spanish 
 audience. A simplified outline of " Fair Words Rewarded " 
 {El Premio del Men hablar), a favourite and not exaggerated 
 
1 64 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 specimen of the class, will illustrate and confirm the above 
 assertions. 
 
 Don Diego, a Sevillian gentleman, speaks disrespectfully 
 in public of Leonarda, the lady to whom his brother Don 
 Pedro is about to be married. He is reproved by Don Juan, 
 a stranger from the north, who is staying in Seville accompanied 
 by his sister Angela. A fight ensues and Don Diego is 
 seriously wounded. Don Juan accidentally seeks refuge in the 
 house of Don Antonio, the father of Leonarda ; his defence of 
 her honour is rewarded by Leonarda's love and he remains 
 concealed in the house. Meanwhile, Don Pedro is seeking 
 his brother's assailant, accompanied by Feliciano, the brother 
 of Leonarda. The latter on seeing Angela at once falls in 
 love with her and persuades his sister to offer her hospitality, 
 little thinking that Don Juan is already concealed in the 
 house. Leonarda now becomes suspicious of the relationship 
 existing between Don Juan and Angela, while Don Juan is 
 jealous of Don Pedro ; the situation is still further complicated 
 by Don Antonio's attempt to marry Leonarda to Don Pedro. 
 An elaborate game of cross purposes is played in Don 
 Antonio's house, and the ingenious lying, wherewith the parties 
 extricate themselves from delicate situations, renders confusion 
 worse confounded. Feliciano endeavours to prevent the match 
 between his sister and Don Pedro, which would extinguish his 
 own hopes of obtaining the hand of Angela ; for it would of 
 course be impossible for him to ally himself with the enemy of 
 his brother-in-law. At last Feliciano and Leonarda come to 
 an understanding, and the way out of the difficulty becomes 
 obvious. Don Pedro arrives in bridal attire only to find 
 Leonarda betrothed to Don Juan, and Feliciano betrothed to 
 Angela. His brother is now out of danger, so like a sensible 
 man he resigns himself to the inevitable and accepts an invita- 
 tion to the forthcoming double wedding. 
 
 The foregoing exceedingly condensed analysis wholly leaves 
 
 i 
 
LOPE DE VEGA 165 
 
 out the secondary intrigue formed by the love-affairs of Rufina, 
 the mulatto slave-girl of Leonarda, and Martin, the unusually 
 comic lackey of Don Juan. 
 
 La Moza de Cd?itaro (The Water -Carrier) is a typical 
 instance of Lope's manner, and still commands an enthusiastic 
 audience at its periodical revivals on the Madrid stage. It 
 differs from the foregoing in its simpler structure and greater 
 unity of interest. Ticknor places it in a special class because 
 some of its characters belong to the lower orders, but it is 
 really a comedia de capa y espada, as may be seen from the 
 following abstract of its main argument 
 
 The scene opens inJ\Xf«4a, where Dona Maria de Guzman, 
 a lady of great beauty, is wooed by a host of admirers, all of 
 whom she rejects somewhat disdainfully. One of these suitors, 
 enraged at the treatment he has received, inflicts a blow 7 upon 
 her fathe^r. This outrage, according to all the rules of the 
 Spanish stage, demands a bloody reprisal, and Dona Maria 
 herself iSfcdertakes the part of avenger of her father's honour. 
 She murders her father's brutal assailant in prison, and in order 
 to escape the consequences of her act ? sets out in humble 
 disguise for Madrid. On her way thither she meets with an 
 indiano or Spanish American, in whose household she takes 
 service. Her simple dress does not conceal her attractions. 
 While carrying her pitcher to the fountain she is seen by Don 
 Juan, the stereotyped galdn or lover, who, becoming enamoured 
 of her, rejects for her sake the overtures of Dona Ana, a lady 
 of great attractions. This lady has another suitor, a noble- 
 man ; but she loves Don Juan in spite of his coolness, and her 
 jealousy makes her desirous of seeing her successful rival, the 
 water-carrier. In order to gratify her wish, she contrives to 
 bring Dona Maria to her house. Here Dona Maria takes 
 advantage of the opportunity afforded by the marriage of a 
 fellow-servant to dress herself in the costume which befits her 
 real station and best shows off her charms. Thus attired she 
 
1 66 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 is irresistible; Don Juan proposes marriage to her and is 
 accepted, in spite of the protests of Dona Ana. The reason 
 for disguise is now at an end ; Dona Maria declares her rank 
 and parentage, and is at last happily married. 
 
 Recklessness of human life is characteristic of the Spanish 
 stage : here the unfortunate hot-tempered suitor is murdered, 
 not that his deatlr may form the catastrophe of the piece, 
 but incidentally that it may give his murderess an opportunity 
 of obtaining the disguise on which the necessary dramatic 
 situations depend. Dona Maria's crime provokes no moral 
 reprobation, nor is it meant to do so ; a lady so careful of the 
 family honour is likely to make the best of wives, and her 
 conduct is considered natural, if not praiseworthy. 
 
 Lope de Vega is a master of easy and natural dialogue 
 written in even and flowing verse. Calderdn's characters, if 
 not more natural, are better studied, but their stilted speeches, 
 modelled on the language of the court, give them an air of un- 
 reality. Calderdn's verse, too, often rises to heights that Lope 
 never attained or even aimed at, but Lope's is more even in 
 quality. Though never attaining first-rate rank, it is seldom 
 mere commonplace, as is too often the case with his great 
 successor. 
 
 Calderon undoubtedly proposed to himself serious aims in 
 his drama; Lope had none except the amusement of his 
 hearers. This he admits candidly, and almost cynically, in his 
 Arte ?iuevo de hacer Comedias (New Method of Play-writing), 
 a brief treatise in verse, of great importance to those who 
 would understand his conception of the art. In it he states 
 that his predecessors, by their barbarous attempts at the 
 imitation of classical models, destroyed the public taste for the 
 drama in its highest forms. He too had tried to write correctly 
 and had emptied the theatres. Finding that playgoers pre- 
 ferred even the most extravagant pieces, written to suit the 
 national taste, to the most correct of those written according to 
 
LOPE DE VEGA 167 
 
 rule, he followed their humour. " And when I have to write 
 a comedy," he says, " J fasten up the rules of the art with six 
 keys. I turn out Terence and Plautus from my study so that 
 they may not cry aloud against me ; — for truth is wont to 
 make its voice heard even in dumb books. I write according 
 to the method which was invented by those who became candi- 
 dates for popular favour, for as it is the mob that pays for 
 the play, it is but right to gratify it by speaking in the 
 uncultured language which it understands." Speaking of the 
 object of the drama, he says it is "to imitate the actions of 
 men, and paint the manners of the age " ; of moral purpose 
 there is no mention at all in this place. He recommends that 
 the tragic and comic element should be mingled in the same 
 play, for although the result, judged according to the 
 Aristotelian rules, will be "a second Minotaur," it will combine 
 the grave and the laughable and produce the variety which is 
 essential to pleasure, a variety warranted by the analogy of 
 nature which the drama should strive to imitate. With regard 
 to form he lays down precise rules for the employment of the 
 recognised metres : dkimas (combinations of octosyllabic lines) 
 are fitted for complaints ; the sonnet is suited to moments 
 of suspense ; descriptions require romance (octosyllabic asson- 
 ant), though ottava ri??ia is very effective ; tercets are suitable to 
 serious matters, and redondillas (octosyllabic, A.B.B.A.) to 
 love-scenes. He concludes his precepts by declaring that of 
 the four hundred and eighty-three plays he had then written 
 all but six sinned grievously against the classical rules. 
 
 Acting on this simple and elastic code, and discarding from \ 
 his mind all the work of previous dramatists, Lope de Vega 
 perfected the Spanish drama, truly national in character and 
 more popular in form than that of any other country. Its 
 defects are, as has been already stated, feeble delineation of 
 character and an utter lack of moral purpose ; but in richness 
 of plots, in variety of incident, in intrigue and powerful 
 
SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 ^matic situations, it stands unrivalled. The great authors of 
 other countries drew upon its inexhaustible treasures, some- 
 times imitating whole pieces, sometimes adapting single 
 incidents or situations to their own requirements, generally 
 without acknowledgment. Animated and picturesque, gay 
 and reckless, narrow in ideas but outspoken and chivalrous 
 like the men for whom it was intended, it affords a picture of 
 a restricted and more or less imaginary society, so lifelike and 
 so minute as to be unrivalled. 
 
 It was undoubtedly to his dramatic works that Lope owed 
 his great fame, but to consider him as a dramatist only would 
 be to study but one side of his remarkably versatile genius. 
 His miscellaneous works fill more than twenty large volumes. 
 One or two of the eleven epics that show his industry and 
 skill in versification rather than his talent for this kind of 
 composition will be considered elsewhere : for the present, 
 space allows only a brief notice of his occasional poems and 
 novels. In the latter class the Dorotea demands special 
 mention, for Lope held it dearest of all his works. It 
 is written in prose dialogue divided into five acts and, like 
 other pastoral novels, contains a large amount of verse. The 
 Dorotea is one of Lope's earliest books, but he published it for 
 the first time only three years before his death. Its plan is 
 ill-studied and poorly carried out; it has, properly speaking, 
 no plot; the slight thread of story that connects the various 
 scenes is seemingly taken from its author's life, and Lope him- 
 self may be recognised in the principal shepherd, Fernando. 
 Numerous wearisome digressions and the unnecessary length 
 to which it is dragged out combine to make the Dorotea very 
 heavy reading, relieved only here and there by the occasional 
 interest of the episodical matter and the quality of the verses, 
 some of which are indeed charming. It was probably for the 
 sake of introducing these that the Dorotea was composed, and 
 their natural and passionate tone contrasts strongly with their 
 
LOPE DE VEGA 169 
 
 formal and frigid setting. As Lope connected his scattered ' 
 love-verses by means of the Dorotea, so he connected his^_ 
 carols and rustic songs by means of the Pastores de Belen* 
 (Shepherds of Bethlehem), another pastoral novel, superior to 
 most of its class in that it treats of a time and country of 
 which its readers knew little or nothing, and thus gives more 
 legitimate scope for the free play of imagination. Its story 
 is roughly the gospel accounts of the birth of Christ ; its 
 shepherds are those who glorified Him and proclaimed the 
 message of the angels. Lope was familiar with, and made good 
 use of, many of the beautiful traditional legends that have 
 gathered round the childhood of Jesus, as for instance that 
 of the meeting of the Holy Family, during the flight into 
 Egypt, with gipsies who enigmatically foretell the Saviour's 
 fate from the lines on His baby-hand : and that of the kind- 
 ness shown to the Virgin and Child by a poor woman whose 
 son is a leper, but is healed by the water in which Jesus has 
 been bathed, and afterwards appears in Scripture as the thief 
 who repented on the cross. The pastoral and rustic tone of 
 the book is spoiled in parts by exaggerations on either side : 
 sometimes the shepherds are so uncouth and grotesque as to 
 be altogether unpleasing ; at others they amuse themselves by 
 poetical competitions such as those in which Lope himself had 
 so often won the prize. Many of their carols {villancicos) 
 admirably combine grace and simplicity, and afford some of 
 the best specimens of a very ancient traditional form. The 
 most beautiful of all is probably that cited by Ticknor, but the 
 following one serves equally well to illustrate their general 
 characteristics : — 
 
 1 " i Quien llama ? £ Quien esta ahi ? " 
 Donde esta, sabeislo vos, 
 Un nino que es hombre y Dios? " 
 Quedito, que duerme aqui." 
 
 "i 
 
 1 " 'Who knocks? Who is there?' — 'Do you know where is — a child 
 who is man and God ?' — ' Softly, he's sleeping here. ' — 'Asleep on the ground ?' 
 
1 70 SPA NISH LITER A TURE 
 
 " 1 En el suelo duerme ? " "Si." 
 " Pues decidle que despierte : 
 
 Que viene tras el la muerte, 
 
 Despues que es hombre, por mi." 
 " Llamad con voces mas bajas 
 
 Si le venis a buscar ; 
 
 Que cansado de llorar, 
 
 Se ha dormido en unas pajas." 
 " Bien podeis abrirme a mi 
 
 Que puesto que busco a Dios, 
 
 Ya somos hombres los dos." 
 " Quedito, que duerme aqui. 
 
 A fe que es mucha malicia 
 
 Que acabado de llegar, 
 
 Le vengais a ejecutar 
 
 Y con vara de justicia " 
 " El mismo lo quiere asi 
 
 Por satisfacer a Dios." 
 " Entrad, decidselo vos." 
 " Quedito, que duerme aqui." 
 " iQue prendas quereis sacar, 
 
 Si no tiene mas hacienda 
 
 Su madre que aquesta prenda 
 
 Para que pueda pagar ? " 
 " Si tiene tantas en si, 
 
 Que es igual al mismo Dios, 
 
 I Que mas prendas quereis vos ? " 
 " Quedito, que duerme aqui." 
 
 Besides the above-mentioned pastoral novels Lope pub- 
 lished El Peregrino en su Patria, which stands half-way 
 
 'Yes.' — 'Then bid him awake, — for death comes after him, — when he 
 reaches man's age, for me.' — ' Call in a gentler voice, — if him you come to 
 seek ; — for worn out with weeping — he has fallen asleep on the straw ' — ' Well 
 may you open to me, — for though it is God that I seek, — now we are both 
 but men.' — 'Softly, he's sleeping here, — and, certes, it is hard indeed — that 
 scarce has he arrived, — when you come to slay him thus — with an officer's 
 wand in hand.' — ' It is he who wills it so — to make amends to God.' — ' Enter 
 and tell him yourself. ' — 'Gently, he's sleeping here.' — 'What pledge would 
 you have of him ? — His mother has no other treasure * — than him she loves so 
 well — wherewith to satisfy you' — 'Such riches has he in himself — that he is even 
 as God ; — what other pledge would you have? ' — ' Gently, he's sleeping here.' ' 
 
 ' It is impossible to translate the play on the word prenda, used here in its three 
 significations — a pledge or surety, a treasure, a good quality. 
 
LOPE DE VEGA 171 
 
 between the romance of chivalry and the modern novel, and 
 three short stories of adventure in the less conventional 
 form which Cervantes claimed to have originated. They were, 
 as he tells us, written to amuse a lady, but are by no means 
 favourable specimens of their class. 
 
 Among the bewildering number of Lope's sonnets it is \ 
 scarcely possible to find one of first-rate merit, but very few are 
 utterly worthless. They were thrown off without effort from 
 his fertile brain, and probably never retouched. This form is 
 eminently ill-adapted for a poet whose facility almost amounted 
 to improvisation, and whose immediate inspiration was impatient 
 of all restraint. Of Lope's poems on sacred subjects (poemas a 
 lo divino) the best are the five meditations (Soliloquios amorosos 
 de un Alma a Dios) which mark the outburst of religious 
 fervour that accompanied his ordination. They are instinct 
 with the passionate, personal, and intensely realistic feelings 
 produced in the plastic southern nature by reflections on the 
 great tragedy which was the beginning of Christianity. It is 
 hard to recognise in the enraptured and mystical devotee the 
 inventor of the duels and intrigues of the cloak and sword 
 plays. 
 
 Of a very different character are the poems written in honour 
 of Isidro, the rustic saint, who in Lope's lifetime became the 
 recognised patron of " the very noble and loyal city of Madrid." 
 Isidro was a peasant of the neighbourhood of what is now the 
 Spanish capital ; during the twelfth century he gained such a 
 reputation for sanctity that it was reported that angels visited 
 him, and carried on the field-work which he neglected in order 
 the better to perform his religious duties. Until the year 1598 
 his reputation was a merely local one, but it was vastly increased 
 when Felipe III. was cured of a dangerous fever by means of 
 his relics which had been carefully preserved. It was on this 
 occasion that Lope wrote his long poem, San Isidro Labrador, 
 in which he relates the life and miracles of the holy man in a 
 
172 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 style that often approaches burlesque. Twenty years afterwards, 
 at the instance of the king whom he had healed, San Isidro was 
 beatified, and two years later he was canonised. Each of these 
 events was made an occasion for rejoicing and display of 
 every kind, and not the least important part of the ceremony was 
 the Jus f a poet/ca (poetical tournament) over which Lope presided, 
 and in which Guillen de Castro, Calderon, and other famous 
 poets took part. Lope entered thoroughly into the spirit of 
 the proceedings ; his " universal jealousy " did not trouble him 
 here, for he was placed by general consent far above all com- 
 petition. From a lofty tribunal he read out the successful 
 compositions, and introduced a kind of buffoon who pronounced 
 a running commentary on the events of the day in burlesque 
 style that greatly delighted the populace. The name, Tome de 
 Burguillos, assumed by this comic character was meant to veil, 
 without obliterating, the personality of Lope himself, whose 
 dignified position rendered it impossible for him to speak in 
 person in so light a strain on so solemn an occasion. The 
 whole collection of poems delivered during the festivities was 
 subsequently published, and those of Tome de Burguillos were 
 found to contain some of the best lighter verse of Lope 
 de Vega. 
 
 A curious and unamiable feature in Lope's literary career 
 is his fondness for "capping" Cervantes' work. Cervantes 
 publishe # d his Novelets Ejemplares ; Lope published short 
 stories in the same style ; Cervantes' Galatea was followed by 
 Lope's Dorotea ; Cervantes' Viage del Parnaso was imitated in 
 Lope's Laurel de Apolo. Of the two former works by Lope 
 mention has already been made ; of the latter it is enough to 
 say that its fulsome praise, shallow and pedantic criticism, and 
 feeble plot, are unrelieved by the touches of humour that 
 redeem from commonplace his rival's poetical review of con- 
 temporary authors. 
 
 The estimate of Lope's position as a poet involves the 
 
LOPE DE VEGA 173 
 
 whole question of the nature and function of poetry. Lope 
 was a great poet according to the notions of his time, and 
 within the limitations of his own peculiar views. He so exactly 
 represented the highest poetical ideal of his century and of his 
 country that all his works have a peculiarly "local" flavour 
 which is absent from the great books that appeal to humanity 
 at all times. He lived in an artificial age, and his genius was 
 not sufficiently strong to rid itself of its influence. His position 
 is possibly best expressed by saying that he was not absolutely 
 a great poet, but "a great Spanish poet of the seventeenth 
 century." 
 
 <r 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 QUEVEDO 
 
 Don Francisco de Quevedo y Villegas, who played with 
 equal facility and success the parts of court wit and moralist, 
 statesman and novelist, erotic poet and writer of religious 
 treatises, is one of the most distinctive and extraordinary figures 
 in the history of Spanish literature. 
 
 Like many of the most celebrated Spaniards, Quevedo was 
 descended from an old Asturian family. His father was 
 secretary to Maria de Austria, the daughter of the Emperor 
 Charles V., and his mother was lady of honour in the house- 
 hold of the Infanta Isabel. Born in 1580, he was sent early 
 to the University of Alcala, where he gained a high reputation 
 as a scholar, graduating in civil and canon law and in theology, 
 besides reading deeply in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, and 
 Italian ; he is also supposed to have studied medicine. His 
 studies at Alcala formed, however, only one side of his univer- 
 sity life ; he mixed freely in the loose Bohemian society of the 
 place ; for though in later life he became a strict moralist, in 
 youth and even in middle age he was by no means severe 
 towards himself, and his erotic poems are remarkable for their 
 shameless indecency, even in an age not too nice in such 
 matters. A ringleader among the turbulent students in their 
 coarse sports and still coarser pleasures, he was early noted 
 for personal valour, and in spite of his somewhat uncouth figure 
 
QUEVEDO 175 
 
 and short sight was a most skilful fencer, as more than one of 
 his antagonists found out to their cost. The description he 
 gives of his personal appearance tallies very closely with the 
 portraits of him still extant. " My hair," he says, " is black, my 
 head large, my forehead broad and white with some old scars 
 that bear witness to my courage, the brows arched and reddish 
 in colour, eyes well opened, bold glance, large and strongly 
 marked nose, well grown beard, full lips, strong teeth and firm 
 ever ready to bite, long neck, broad and sloping shoulders, thin 
 but well-formed arms, hands broad enough to please a courtier, 
 deep chest, slim waist, one leg lame and deformed." Elsewhere 
 he thus whimsically admits the correctness of an enemy's 
 brutally plain statement of his physical defects — " He says that 
 I am lame and cannot see : I should lie from head to foot if I 
 denied it : my eyes and gait would contradict me." By reason 
 of his short-sightedness he habitually wore eye-glasses, called 
 after him " quevedos." 
 
 On leaving Alcala, Quevedo betook himself to the court at 
 Valladolid, where he at once distinguished himself among the 
 wits and poetasters of the day by a number of coarse but 
 brilliant short poems. He also wrote at this period of his life 
 a " picaresque" story remarkable for its freedom from the moral- 
 ising tendency by which such works are generally rendered 
 unreadable. El gran Tacaiio (The great Rogue), as it is called, 
 consists of a series of roughly drawn but animated scenes from 
 that low student and Bohemian life which he knew so well and 
 which always fascinated him. But Quevedo had not abandoned 
 graver studies, though it is with some surprise that we find 
 him at the age of twenty-four in correspondence with Justus 
 Lipsius, one of the most celebrated scholars of the day, on 
 the subject of his book de Vesta. This correspondence is in 
 Latin and gives a high idea of Quevedo's attainments. Lipsius 
 addresses him in the most flattering terms, and Quevedo com- 
 municates to his friend his intention of publishing a defence of 
 
176 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Homer against the injurious treatment to which he had been 
 
 subjected by Scaliger. 
 
 In 1606 the court returned from Valladolid to Madrid, and 
 
 with it Quevedo, overjoyed like the rest of the courtiers at the 
 
 change, and bidding adieu to the former city in the couplet — 
 
 1 Para salirse de ti 
 Tienes agradables puertas. 
 
 The next seven years passed at Madrid firmly established 
 Quevedo's reputation. Besides a translation of Anacreon, 
 dedicated to his future patron Don Pedro Giron, Duke of 
 Osuna, he published verse translations of Epictetus and 
 Phocylides, and commenced the series of Visions (Sueiios) 
 which have always been among the most popular of his 
 writings. These Visions^ seven in number, are short satires on 
 [ the vices and follies of the age, and on certain professions ; 
 they probably contain caricatures of real personages. Though 
 many of the allusions are either obscure or have lost their 
 point, the Suefios are still amusing. They illustrate their 
 author's mordant wit and grasp of human character, and pro- 
 claim his withering contempt for the hypocritical and artificial 
 life of the capital. Always honest and blunt, often intentionally 
 brutal, Quevedo wields the lash with no sparing hand. His 
 satires are simple in plan, and roughly executed. Before their 
 publication Quevedo had created an amusing character in his 
 Knight of the Grapple (the man to whom any excuse or any 
 humiliation is acceptable, provided he be not obliged to loosen 
 his purse-strings), but this time it is classes of society and 
 particular professions rather than individual vices that he sets 
 up for the butt of his keenly-pointed shafts. The fiction of 
 the dream makes it easy to bring forward types, but this method, 
 long popular in Spain, had seldom been put to such good 
 use. 2 We choose for short analysis one of the best known, 
 
 1 " Thy gates are a joy to those — who pass through them as they quit thee. " 
 
 2 The most famous specimen of this class of satire is Le Diable Boiteux by 
 Le Sage, who took the idea from Lufs Velez de Guevara's Diablo Cojuelo, 
 published in 1641. 
 
QUEVEDO 177 
 
 the Alguacil endemoniado (The Bailiff Possessed). The author, 
 speaking in the first person, relates how he happened to go into 
 the church of St. Peter to seek the Licenciado Calabres, a 
 priest of questionable character. He finds his friend engaged 
 in an attempt to drive out a devil from an alguacil or bailiff. 
 On being called upon to justify his conduct with regard to the 
 unfortunate demoniac, the devil replies that his victim is not 
 a man but a bailiff (a very different creature), and complains 
 that he is there against his will, for it is not he who has taken 
 possession of the bailiff, but rather the bailiff who, after the 
 manner of his kind, has taken possession of him. The evil 
 spirit moreover shows that he is not so utterly bad as the bailiff, 
 in that it was through attempting to gain the dominion of Heaven 
 that he fell, whereas his victim owes his present condition to 
 the lowest of motives. The licentiate proceeds to sprinkle 
 holy water, and the demoniac forthwith attempts to escape ; 
 whereupon the devil protests that it is not he who fears the 
 water because it is holy, but the bailiff who fears it because it 
 is water, and begs the exorcist to release him from his dis- 
 tasteful quarters. The author now explains to the devil that 
 he is an old friend, and asks for information as to the organis- 
 ation and administration of the lower regions. This the evil 
 one gives freely, treating of the various orders of the lost, and 
 beginning by the poets, who, as he explains, abound to such a 
 degree that their accommodation has had to be increased, and 
 their influence in hell has become almost as important as that 
 of the notaries. Some are tormented by hearing the verses of 
 their rivals read, others are obliged to correct them : some 
 wander disconsolate round hell in search of a rhyme. The 
 dramatists, however, are in the worst case on account of the 
 many crimes which they have caused to be committed, and the 
 many noble characters that they have spoiled. Between blind 
 men and lovers, madmen and astrologers, murderers and 
 doctors, no distinction is drawn by the devils into whose hands 
 
 N 
 
i 7 8 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 they all eventually fall. The author inquires anxiously after 
 lovers, for he has a personal interest in their fate. The spirit 
 replies that the term lovers includes the whole of the lost, for 
 all love themselves, some love their money, and some their 
 works. Lovers, in the general acceptation of the word, are 
 rare below, for the treatment they receive at the hands of their 
 mistresses is such as generally to produce repentance before the 
 end. The devils, it appears, are much offended at the horned 
 and hoofed representations of themselves that pass current in 
 the upper world, and also at the way in which the generic name 
 is lightly used as a term of abuse for low personages, and in 
 the phrase "the devil take it." Kings form a rich prey down 
 below, for they often bring with them their favourites and the 
 whole of their court. Merchants are there by thousands, and 
 are so bold as to attempt to create a monopoly for keeping up 
 the fires, and to offer to undertake the torturing at a fixed rate. 
 Judges are the devil's pheasants and afford a most profitable 
 crop, for each brings with him a host of notaries, bailiffs, and 
 scribes. Women come down in such numbers that their 
 enforced entertainers are weary of them, and hell would be a 
 pleasanter place had it no female inhabitant. The ugly ones 
 are the most numerous, for the pretty ones repent. When 
 asked if the poor are to be found in hell, the devil does not 
 even recognise the name. After having it explained to him, 
 he states that men are damned for their part in the world, and 
 as the poor have no part in the world and are neither flattered 
 nor envied during life, they never come to the lower regions 
 after death. The demon brings his revelations to a close by 
 stating that, if he has told secrets that might produce contrition 
 in the heart of a stone, it is only in order that his hearers may 
 not be able to say that they have had no warning. He is 
 thereupon silenced by the exorcist. 
 
 Quevedo's burlesque treatment of this and other serious 
 subjects incurred, as was to be expected, the displeasure of 
 
QUEVEDO 179 
 
 the Inquisition. In later life he struck out or altered all such 
 passages of the Sueuos as could be considered objectionable 
 in their manner of treating subjects appertaining to religion ; 
 simple indecency he did not consider it necessary to alter. 
 
 On Holy Thursday, 161 1, Quevedo saw a lady grievously 
 insulted in the church of San Martin at Madrid. He reproved 
 her aggressor, and a duel took place. Quevedo slew his 
 adversary, and was obliged to seek safety in Sicily, where his 
 patron, the Duke of Osuna, was now viceroy. Shortly after- 
 wards he returned to Spain, and resided at the village of La 
 Torre de Juan Abad, a manor which he had inherited from 
 his mother. In his writings at this time he praises a country 
 life, and indulges in much severe moralising. We need not 
 doubt his sincerity, but the serious mood was due merely to 
 his surroundings, and did not last long. In 161 3 he joined 
 Osuna in Sicily, and without occupying any definite official 
 position became the viceroy's confidant and agent in his 
 public administration, and also, it is whispered, in the love 
 intrigues for which he was celebrated. Quevedo was subse- 
 quently entrusted with the important charge of furthering 
 Osuna's interests at court by means of bribes. This sort of 
 duty, which gave him an insight into the weak side of human 
 nature, he thoroughly enjoyed, and it was probably thanks to 
 Quevedo that his patron was promoted in 16 15 to the vice- 
 royalty of Naples. How far Quevedo was cognisant of 
 Osuna's bold schemes of personal ambition we shall never 
 know ; it is, however, certain that he nearly lost his life in the 
 rash attempt to seize Venice in 161 8, and that shortly after- 
 wards Osuna dismissed him from his service on account of the 
 many enmities he had provoked by his somewhat brutal treat- 
 ment of a matter so delicate as bribery. Quevedo now again 
 withdrew to his estate, and employed his leisure in writing a 
 Life of Saint Thomas of Villanueva, as well as some of the 
 most free-spoken of his satirical verses. 
 
i So SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 When, in 1620, Osuna returned to Spain in disgrace, he 
 became reconciled to his former ally. This reconciliation 
 provoked the suspicions of the reigning favourite, and Quevedo 
 was exiled from the court. In his retirement he finished his 
 ambitious work on statecraft and morals, The Politics of God 
 and the Government of Christ, wherein, with much pedantic 
 learning, he developed a scheme of government founded on 
 the precepts of the Bible. So good an opportunity for gratify- 
 ing a grudge was not to be lost, and Quevedo filled his pages 
 with what might reasonably be considered as reflections of the 
 severest kind on the existing administration. Only a complete 
 change in the position of affairs could now restore his shattered 
 fortunes. The death of Felipe III. and the accession of 
 Felipe IV. brought this change, and on hearing the welcome 
 news Quevedo remained in the country only long enough to 
 write an extravagant dedication to the new favourite, the 
 Count-Duke of Olivares. He then hurried to Madrid like the 
 rest to worship the rising sun. The large body of writings in 
 which he refers to the events of this time show the greatest 
 diplomatic skill in their evident attempt to propitiate the 
 powers without utter loss of self-respect and betrayal of former 
 obligations. But the writer was known as a dangerous man, 
 and after a few months he was again exiled from Madrid. 
 Quevedo did not lose heart ; the Suefio de la Muerte, composed 
 as a peace-offering, is a witty and powerful panegyric, in the 
 form of a fiction, on the new order of things. It is quite 
 possible that in his actions and in the expressions of his 
 opinions at this time, Quevedo may have been more than half 
 sincere ; he was not the only one to be deceived by the pro- 
 mises of the brilliant young Count-Duke. The flattery of such 
 a man was irresistible; in 1623 Quevedo was again in favour, 
 and employed his poetical talents in relating the -festivities 
 that celebrated the visit paid to the Spanish court by the 
 Prince of Wales (afterwards Charles I.), between whom and a 
 
QUEVEDO 181 
 
 sister of Felipe IV. a marriage had been negotiated. The 
 versatile nature of Quevedo had found its proper element in the 
 court, a/id he discusses with equal facility grave questions such 
 as the disadvantages of public executions, or light ones, such as 
 the amusements of the society of which he was the most noted wit. 
 Quevedo played an important part in a curious controversy 
 that agitated the whole of Spain about the year 1627. From 
 time immemorial Santiago (St. James) had been patron of the 
 country. In 1627 the Pope, urged by certain zealots, chiefly 
 of the Carmelite order, put forth a bull promoting the lately 
 canonised Santa Teresa to be joint patron with Santiago of 
 Spain. The amount of discussion and angry feeling produced 
 by the change appears almost incredible at the present day. 
 Quevedo became the champion of St. James, and published" 
 several pamphlets. Thanks, in part at least, to his efforts, the 
 obnoxious bull was cancelled in 1630, and the ancient patron 
 was restored to his full honours. The king and Olivares had 
 espoused the cause of Santa Teresa, and Quevedo's second 
 banishment, which took place about this time, is attributed by 
 contemporaries to the energetic part he took in the heated y 
 controversy. His return to favour was the signal for a com- 
 bined attack on the part of his enemies, among the most 
 virulent of whom was Luis Narvaez, a fencing-master, and 
 author of a treatise on the art of fencing. This man is said to 
 have conceived a grudge against Quevedo through having 
 once been worsted by him in an assault-at-arms. It is char- 
 acteristic of the manners of the time that he took vengeance 
 by delating his enemy and his works to the Inquisition, but 
 Quevedo saved himself by bringing out in 1629 the corrected 
 edition of his early works. In the same year he rendered an 
 important service to the literature of his country by publishing » 
 the works of Luis de Leon. In the controversy between the * 
 modern euphuists and the writers of the old Spanish school, 
 Quevedo sided strongly with the latter, though his own works 
 
1 82 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 are by no means specimens of classic simplicity. In 1631 he 
 published a collection of poems in very pure and simple style 
 by the Bachiller de la Torre (see p. 122). 
 
 Quevedo was now growing old, and his thoughts turned to 
 religious subjects. He set to work to reform his life, and he, 
 the scoffer at marriage and the dread of husbands, took to 
 himself a wife, chosen by the Countess of Olivares. He gives 
 a very uninviting description of himself at the age at which he 
 became a bridegroom, but he is very particular in the instruc- 
 tions which he gave to his lady adviser as to the kind of wife 
 he would prefer. Finally their choice fell upon a lady of 
 good family and some wealth. The marriage was apparently 
 not happy, for the couple soon separated. Age had not 
 sweetened Quevedo's temper, and again his enemies closed in 
 upon him. But the old man defended himself vigorously ; his 
 position as secretary to the king gave him a certain advantage 
 over them, and for a time he beat them back. Even amid 
 the bustle of the court he found time for serious studies. Dis- 
 appointed in the regime to which he had looked for so many 
 good results, he prepared a second part of his work, entitled 
 The Politics of God, speaking out boldly what he well knew 
 to be the truth. He seems to have been aware that he stood 
 on the brink of a precipice, and with the courage of despair he 
 openly rebuked the king and his favourite in language the 
 4 more offensive because of its unwonted sobriety and the keen 
 v wit which clenched its arguments. The year 1639 saw his 
 final fall. The reason of it is shrouded in a considerable 
 amount of mystery. The king on seating himself one day at 
 table found on his plate a memorial setting forth in the 
 strongest terms the miserable condition of the country, and 
 urging him to amend his ways, rouse himself, and be no longer 
 a puppet in the hands of his favourite. Quevedo was sus- 
 pected, rightly or wrongly, of being the author of the memorial ; 
 he was dragged half-naked from his house, and was imprisoned 
 
QUEVEDO 183 
 
 for nearly four years at Leon. At first he bore up and wrote 
 boldly in his defence, but at length his spirit was broken, and 
 he addressed humble petitions for mercy to the favourite. 
 His prayers and protestations were disregarded. The treat- 
 ment he received during his captivity seems to have been 
 brutal in the extreme. Convinced at length that he had 
 nothing to hope for, he betook himself for consolation to 
 religion and the philosophy of the Stoics, of which he had - 
 always been an earnest student. He was not, however, fated 
 to end his days in prison, but was finally set free in 1643, 
 probably because, broken in health and spirit, he was rightly 
 considered harmless. He retired at once into the country, 
 where he set in order his papers, and nursed his feeble body 
 until 1645, when he died as a good Catholic. 
 
 Of the huge mass of writings left by Quevedo the greater 
 part has lost its interest. Even his moral and political writings 
 are so deeply tinged by the controversies of his day that they 
 are not of great permanent value. His works throughout are 
 defaced by a perverse leaning to all that is disgusting and 
 obscene. In this, as in other respects, he may be aptly com- 
 pared to Dean Swift. His sudden transitions from a semi- 
 ascetic to a loose life, and back again, ought not to throw 
 doubt upon the sincerity with which he handles grave questions. 
 His conduct was generally brave and disinterested, but he 
 possessed a very versatile character, and was deeply influenced 
 by his surroundings. He served his patrons faithfully, and 
 had at heart the good of his country. If he sometimes 
 abandoned lost causes and fallen individuals, he did so less 
 rapidly and less shamelessly than most of the men of his day. 
 In the mastery of his native language he is probably unrivalled, 
 but this, like other of his talents, he did not turn to the best 
 possible use. He showed his appreciation of pure style and 
 of the best models by publishing the works of Luis de Leon and 
 of the Bachiller de la Torre, but his own writings are deeply 
 
V 
 
 1 84 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 tinged with a kind of bad taste widely different from that of 
 the culto school, which he heartily despised. His fondness for 
 double meanings, for strong antitheses, for playing upon words, 
 and for condensing a whole train of thought into an epigram, 
 paradox, or conceit, make s him the best Spanish example of 
 the school called conceptistas. These peculiarities, together 
 with the extraordinary richness of a vocabulary to which he 
 admitted many of the slang words and expressions of the low 
 life of his time, render a great part of his writings unintelligible 
 to those who have not made them a special study. For the 
 proper understanding of many of them a special vocabulary 
 and commentary would be required, the composition of which 
 would tax the powers even of those best versed in the literature 
 and inner history of his time. This is the more remarkable 
 because he always abhorred classical pedantry, and in one of 
 his early burlesque compositions (Origen y Definiciones de la 
 Necedad) he pronounces himself thus : " We declare and at 
 once admit as fools of four quarterings all who by their speech 
 and example attempt to introduce new fashions of talking and 
 to change the vocabulary of their age . . . and if any such 
 . . . make use of Latin words or meanings ... he shall 
 take rank above his brethren in folly." 
 
 Half scholar, half adventurer in style as in life, Quevedo 
 attempted almost every branch of literature, and in almost all 
 he attained some degree of success ; but his wide interests and 
 restless character, together with the fatal facility of writing so 
 common in his time, combined to prevent him from attaining 
 to quite the first rank in any one department. He is, in his 
 faults and in his virtues, characteristically Spanish, and no one 
 who wishes to understand the Spaniards of his time can afford 
 to neglect Quevedo. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 CALDERON 
 
 Cervantes was a world-wide genius ; Lope de Vega was a 
 strictly local one, with all the limitations of his time and 
 country ; Calderon stands midway between them. He is the 
 Christian poet of an age that has begun to reason and inquire, 
 and, conscious of its own decadence, looks back for its models 
 to the virtues of a glorious past, defending old causes with 
 modern arguments. 
 
 Pedro Calderon de la Barca was born in Madrid in the 
 year 1600. His family, like that of Lope, belonged to the old 
 Castilian nobility, and sprang from the valley of Carriedo, 
 where stood its ancestral home. From the first fortune seemed 
 to smile on Calderon. His father held a position of import- 
 ance as secretary to the finance department. He himself had 
 the advantage of the best education that his age could afford 
 at the University of Salamanca. Here he shone in the different 
 branches of the scholastic and formal learning which he some- 
 what ostentatiously parades in many of his plays. He grew 
 up handsome in person, grave and majestic in deportment; 
 his life was pure and blameless, and his sweet and noble 
 character endeared him to those around him. When thirty- 
 five years old, his reputation as a dramatist was already so well 
 established that he was made court poet, succeeding Lope in 
 the office. The king conferred on him the mantle of the noble 
 
f 
 
 1 86 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 order of Santiago, a dignity singularly well adapted to his 
 Christian, chivalrous, and courtly disposition. During the pre- 
 ceding ten years he had served as a soldier in Flanders, and 
 again at the time of the rebellion in Catalonia he abandoned 
 the court and took part in its suppression. Immediately after- 
 wards he abandoned the profession of arms and gave himself 
 up entirely to the dramatic art. At the age of fifty-one he 
 took orders, and afterwards became chaplain of honour to the 
 king and familiar of the Inquisition. Outliving his patron, 
 Felipe IV., he died in 1681 with faculties and reputation 
 unimpaired. For forty years he had been the darling of the 
 court and of the populace. His remains were borne by the 
 Congregation of Priests, natives of Madrid, to be buried in the 
 city which had been the scene of his triumphs. Only a few 
 months before his death he had written a play (Hado y Divisa) 
 which shows no sign of failing powers, and he left unfinished 
 an auto sacramental intended for representation at the feast of^ 
 Corpus Christi. 
 
 The published works of Calderon consist of about one 
 hundred and twenty plays and eighty autos, besides some light 
 interludes, one -act farces, and occasional verses. Of all his 
 writings the antos are those that he most highly valued. He 
 it was who improved and stereotyped this form and became its 
 greatest exponent. A description and analysis of one of these 
 pieces is necessary in order to understand this important and 
 characteristic department of the drama, which remained popular 
 until its suppression in 1765. 
 
 From very early times the stage was pressed into the service 
 of the Church. The great religious festivals, Easter and 
 Corpus Christi, were marked by theatrical representations of 
 the events which the' day recalled. Traces of the old nativity 
 plays are to be found in the nacimientos or Christmas puppet- 
 shows still made in almost every old-fashioned Spanish family 
 for the delight of the children, and occupying much the same 
 
CALDER6N 187 
 
 traditional position as the Teutonic Christmas-tree. A nacimi- 
 ento is a kind of model of the scene at Bethlehem, more or 
 less exact according to the education and means of those for 
 whom it is intended. The grouping of the puppets, the card- 
 board mountains, and the trees, generally represented by sprigs 
 of evergreen, often produce a very pretty effect, to which the 
 conventional shepherds and Magi contribute. 1 The name 
 auto was applied by the earliest Spanish dramatists to all 
 classes of dramatic composition. In Calderon's time its use 
 had become restricted to sacred plays, the subjects of which 
 had gradually been reduced to one — the mystery of the Sacra- 
 ment, dramatically represented on the day of Corpus Christi. 
 The order of proceeding on such occasions was as follows :- 
 In the morning the Host was paraded round the principal 
 streets of the town in much the same manner as is still 
 customary in Roman Catholic countries, but with a grotesque 
 accompaniment of gigantones and tarascas, huge pasteboard 
 monsters of hideous aspect whose origin and signification is 
 lost in obscurity. The accompanying procession included all 
 the principal personages of the place, and the religious brother- 
 hoods (eonfradias) which play so large a part in Spanish life, 
 with their banners and bands of music. The streets through 
 which the procession passed were thronged with the kneeling 
 populace. At the head of the column gambolled the selected 
 dancers, who in no irreverent spirit took a prominent part in 
 the solemnity. In the afternoon the procession set forth again, 
 but this time without the Sacrament, which had in the mean- 
 time been carried back with all ceremony into the church from 
 which it started. Huge cars bore the actors, who at this time 
 of the year were forbidden to represent secular plays. The 
 cars were drawn up before some public building or the house 
 of some great personage, generally in the principal square or 
 
 1 A pretty description of a nacimiento is to be found in Fernan Caballero's 
 
 Noche de Navidad. 
 
iSS SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 plaza of the town. Placed side by side under the open sky 
 they formed a rough stage, and the auto began. The spec- 
 tators either stood in the open space around the cars, or if 
 fortunately placed, looked on from the windows or balconies of 
 the neighbouring houses. Of the turmoil and fatigue of such 
 a day a good description is put by Calderon into the mouth of 
 one of his graciosos or buffoons, 1 who, by the way, is supposed 
 to be an inhabitant of Antioch during the early years of 
 Christianity ! 
 
 The antos must be distinguished from the comedias de santos, 
 religious plays bearing on the lives of saints or Biblical char- 
 acters, but without special reference to the Sacrament. In the 
 autos proper the personages are principally allegorical. A list 
 made by a Spanish author includes, besides many others, the 
 synagogue, paganism, the Church, grace, sin, pleasure, grief, 
 beauty, love, the law, religious rite, the vices and virtues, the 
 senses and faculties, trees and flowers, air, fire, and water, the 
 seasons and months of the year, flattery and discretion, the 
 sciences and professions. All these were pressed into the service, 
 and all played their parts in honour of the sacred mystery. 
 
 The plots of the autos are simple in the extreme. An idea 
 of their construction may be formed from the following analysis 
 of The Cure and the Disease, chosen at random among Cal- 
 deron's autos. Lucifer appears invoking Sin and Shade to 
 come forth from the abyss and admire the marvels of the 
 Creation. Shade stops short on the borders of Light and 
 beholds the four spheres — that of Fire, the abode of the stars ; 
 that of Air, where the birds fly ; that of Water, the haunt of 
 the fishes ; and, finally, the Earth. All these sing hymns in 
 praise of Humanity, inviting one another to do it service and 
 honour. Humanity comes forth with much pomp and re- 
 ceives gifts from the Elements. Pride causes the downfall of 
 Humanity, and thinking to become equal to God, it eats the 
 
 1 Mdgico Prodigioso. Jor. i. 
 
calder6n 189 
 
 fruit in which Sin has hidden its poison. The Elements, 
 formerly so friendly to Humanity, become its enemies, until at 
 last it is healed of its morbid sickness by the Pilgrim who 
 reveals to it the secret of the sacramental food, the antidote 
 against the poison of Sin. 
 
 In many of the autos heathen mythology is oddly mixed up 
 with Christian doctrine ; good taste is often entirely lost sight 
 of, and the result is grotesque and unpleasing in the extreme. 
 But there can be no doubt of the truly religious spirit in which 
 the performances were carried out and received, and many of 
 the plays themselves, and the has or commendatory introduc- 
 tions which preceded them, contain magnificent passages of 
 verse. 
 
 In Calderdn's opinion these dramatised theological discus- 
 sions were the only part of his work worth preserving, but it 
 was not owing to them that his reputation was destined to live. 
 During the last century certain German critics called the atten- 
 tion of the world to his so-called philosophical dramas, and 
 notably to La Vida cs Saeiio (Life is a Dream) and El Mdgico 
 Prodigioso (The Marvellous Magician). These two plays are 
 intended severally to illustrate a central idea or theory. The 
 former inculcates the unreality of outward impressions, and dis- 
 cusses the question whether these, as received in our waking 
 state, are in any way nearer to " things in themselves " than are 
 the fantastic imaginations of dreams. The latter upholds the 
 doctrine of freedom of the will, and maintains the logical 
 necessity of God as a First Cause. Philosophy and meta- 
 physics require for their appreciation on the stage audiences 
 brought up on autos sacramentales. Many passages of sublime 
 and harmonious verse which are to be found both in these and in 
 other dramas by Calderon must have lost half their effect when 
 spoken in the course of a play, the action of which they gener 
 ally in no degree furthered. The long scholastic arguments 
 carried on by the characters must have been intolerably weari- 
 
 : 
 
190 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 • 
 
 some even in Salamanca, their proper home. The Jaulte of 
 Calderon are the faults of his time and of the Spanish stage 
 generally, namely, culteranismo^ exaggerated sentiment, deficient 
 study of character, and artificial complication of detail com- 
 bined with an ill-considered general scheme. The greater part 
 of his work, it must be remembered, was not meant for publi- 
 cation. Had he been able thoroughly to carry out his great 
 conceptions, he would have been unequalled in one depart- 
 ment of his art. His ideas are profound but vague, and all his 
 work lacks a clear-cut outline to show off its minute carving ; 
 he cannot profitably be compared with Shakespeare or Goethe, 
 or with the great Greek tragedians, on account of the radical 
 differences which separate his conception of subject and treat- 
 ment from that of the great masters. In his philosophical- 
 dramas he avoids the complication of plot (enredos) which 
 forms so marked a feature of the Spanish theatre. The plan 
 of La Vida es Sueiio is, in fact, extremely simple. Basilio, 
 king of Poland, by shutting up his son Segismundo in a solitary 
 tower, and bringing him up like a wild animal, attempts to 
 evade the evil which, as his astrological studies have taught 
 him, he is destined to suffer at his hands. Relenting in his 
 purpose when Segismundo is already grown up, he determines 
 to allow him an opportunity of giving proof of his disposition. 
 For this purpose Segismundo is rendered unconscious by 
 means of drugs and is conveyed to the palace. On waking up 
 and finding himself the central point of the pomp and splendour 
 of a court, he immediately, by his haughtiness and unbridled 
 passion, gives proof of the brutality which, owing to an entire 
 lack of moral training or restraint, easily defeats the fine 
 instincts of his truly noble nature. Basilio now considers that 
 he has done all that justice demands. By his orders Segis- 
 mundo is again rendered unconscious and conveyed back 
 to his prison. On his second awakening amid the familiar 
 surroundings, his guardian tries to persuade him that the 
 
calderOn 
 
 191 
 
 experiences of the previous day were merely the hallucinations 
 of a dream. Segismundo, comparing the vividness of his 
 present impressions with those that remain stamped on his 
 memory, concludes that the whole of life is but a dream, and 
 that the impressions of our waking state are not more real 
 than those of sleep. His situation gives rise to the following 
 soliloquy : — 
 
 1 Clotaldo. . . . aun en sueiios 
 
 No se pierde el hacer bien. 
 Segismundo. Es verdad ; pues reprimamos 
 Esta fiera condition, 
 Esta furia, esta ambition, 
 Por si alguna vez sonamos : 
 
 Y si haremos, pues estamos 
 En mundo tan singular, 
 Que el vivir solo es sonar ; 
 
 Y la experiencia me ensena 
 Que el hombre que vive suena 
 Lo que es, hasta dispertar. 
 Suena el rey que es rey, y vive 
 Con este engafio mandando, 
 Disponiendo y gobernando ; 
 
 Y este aplauso que recibe 
 Prestado, en el viento escribe, 
 
 Y en cenizas le convierte 
 
 La muerte (; desdicha fuerte !) : 
 I Que hay quien intente reinar, 
 Viendo que ha de dispertar 
 En el suefio de la muerte ? 
 Suena el rico en su riqueza 
 Que mas cuidados le ofrece ; 
 
 1 ' ' Clotaldo. Even in dreams — good deeds are not in vain. 
 
 Segismundo. It is true ; so then let me restrain — this fierce temper of mine 
 — and this unbridled arrogance — lest at any time I dream : — and dream I shall, 
 for we dwell — in a world so strange — that living is but dreaming : — my own 
 fate teaches me — that all men living dream — their lot, until they awake. — The 
 king dreams of his royalty, and lives — thus deceived, commanding, — ordaining 
 and governing : — the adulation he receives — is his only for a time ; he writes 
 it on the wind, — and straightway is reduced to ashes — by death, the king of 
 ills : — 'Tis strange that men should long to reign, — seeing that awakening will 
 come — in the dream of death ? — The rich man dreams of riches — which but 
 
192 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Suena el pobre que padece 
 Su miseria y su pobreza ; 
 Suena el que a medrar empieza-, 
 Suena el que afana y pretende. 
 Suena el que agravia y ofende, 
 
 Y en el mundo, en conclusion 
 Todos sueiian lo que son 
 Aunque ninguno lo entiende. 
 Yo sueno que estoy aqui 
 Destas prisiones cargado. 
 
 Y sofie que en otro estado 
 Mas lisonjero me vi. 
 
 I Que es la vida ? Una frenesi ; 
 I Que es la vida ? Una illusion, 
 Una sombra, una ficcion, 
 
 Y el mayor bien es pequeilo ; 
 Que toda la vida es sueno. 
 
 Y los suenos sueno son. 
 
 Yet his belief in the eternal laws of right and wrong is not 
 shaken, for even in dreams, he says, the distinction between 
 good and bad exists. He determines for the future to restrain 
 his passionate outbursts. In this mood he is found by the 
 leaders of a revolution, who, having discovered that a legiti- 
 mate heir exists, are come to deliver him from prison, and to 
 place him on the throne. Ambitious longings are at once 
 awakened in Segismundo's breast, but he is now conscious that 
 they, like the rest, are but dreams. He leads his party to battle 
 against his father, and by his victory fulfils the gloomy prog- 
 nostications of the astrologer. No obstacle now stands in the 
 way of his passion for revenge, but his moral consciousness is 
 aroused, and he acts with moderation and even generosity. 
 In the development of Segismundo's character, so suddenly 
 
 increase his cares; — the poor man dreams of suffering,-— of misery and poverty; — 
 one dreams that fortune smiles on him ; — another, that he fights and struggles, 
 — or that his malice wins success : — the world, in short, is all made up — of 
 dreamers dreaming each his lot, — but no man knows that it is so. — I dream 
 that I am here — and loaded with these chains: — I dreamed once that a 
 different fortune — and more flattering was mine. — What is life? Delirium. 
 — What is life? An illusion, — a shadow and a fiction, — and the greatest 
 good is but small, — for all life is a dream, — and dreams are but a dream." 
 
CALDERON 193 
 
 brought about, many links are missing, but Calderon, as we 
 have said, is a poet of fine passages rather than of consistent 
 merit. For the success of his plays he depends on interesting 
 situations or opposing motives, and not on a subtle analysis of 
 character. The dialogue of his plays is of the stiff and artificial 
 type prevalent at the Spanish court, and the poet realises his 
 genius only when he can shake off the dramatist, launching out 
 into inspired monologues or tirades which fortunately lose 
 nothing of their beauty by separation from their commonplace 
 context. 
 
 In La Vida es Sueiio the sublime and grotesque are brought 
 very close together, according to the author's wont, by the con- 
 tinual interference of the gracioso or buffoon. This character 
 is not Calder6n's own creation. In the drama de capa y espada 
 of other authors his poor witticisms abound, but Calderon makes 
 a peculiar use of him, and in his hands the type becomes 
 invariable. The gracioso is the foil to the principal character, 
 and is almost always his servant. After the fashion of the 
 Greek Chorus, he furnishes a running commentary on his 
 master's actions, and when, as often happens, the exaggerated 
 sentiment of the love intrigue is taking too lofty a flight, his 
 uncouth pleasantries bring it somewhat suddenly to earth again. 
 The love affairs of the gracioso and ladies'-maid form a parody 
 on the main plot, a caricature so harsh, and placed in such 
 close juxtaposition to that which it is meant to relieve, that the 
 effect is often painful in the extreme. 
 
 Beside the gracioso^ Calderon has made peculiarly his own 
 the passion of jealousy (ce/os) of a peculiar kind. This jealousy 
 is connected rather with the point of honour than with love. 
 The slightest shade of offence against the husband's honour 
 calls for the most sanguinary vengeance, not in order to satisfy 
 the natural instinct of reprisal, but in order that the husband's 
 character for nicety as to the point of honour may not be 
 degraded in his own eyes, or in those of the world. This 
 
 •^ 
 
194 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 characteristic undoubtedly corresponds to a strongly marked 
 feature in the national character. Spaniards are peculiarly 
 inclined to forgive any crime that can plead jealousy as its 
 motive, but Calderon asks too much of us when he tries to 
 enlist our sympathies in favour of husbands who, for the sake 
 of appearances, deliberately, and in cold blood, murder the 
 wives of whose innocence they are assured. 1 
 
 In this, as in other respects, it is to be noticed that many of 
 Calderon's characters, though they bear familiar-sounding names, 
 are really allegories. The habit of writing autos has reacted upon 
 the author's method in other departments. Of the complexity 
 of the motives that generally determine action he has but little 
 notion ; he adopts and exaggerates the ideas of religion, morality, 
 honour, and loyalty as they existed in his time, or had existed 
 during the earlier period which Spaniards were already learning 
 to regard as their Golden Age, and places them unmixed upon 
 the stage. It follows, therefore, that in his characters there is 
 singularly little variety, his heroes are generally passionate and 
 brave, carrying out to the full the narrow code of honour which, 
 in courtly circles, had supplanted the moral law. Even when 
 committing crimes of a very deep dye they remain gentlemen 
 at heart, that is to say, Spanish gentlemen of the sixteenth or 
 seventeenth centuries ; and as such they act and speak, in 
 spite of the incongruous environment of age and country to 
 which the caprice of their creator occasionally transplants 
 y them. His women are weak and passionate, mere puppets, 
 so colourless that scarcely a feature distinguishes the Rosauras 
 and Estrellas from the Isabels and Leonors. Yet they are 
 seldom bad, and never abject ; they, like the men, probably 
 represent the types among which Calderon moved during 
 his residence at the court. 
 
 Calderon created one fine and simple character in his 
 Alcalde de Zalamea. The play and the hero from which it 
 
 1 Cf. the plot of El Mddico de su Honrd. 
 
CALDERON 195 
 
 takes its name have ever remained popular in Spain, for in it 
 the poet ceased to appeal to a select circle, and held up before 
 his countrymen at large what he and they conceived to be the 
 national virtues personified — sturdy independence, unflinching 
 bravery, recklessness of consequences when the affections are 
 involved, a high sense of personal and family honour, hospitality, 
 and loyalty. 
 
 Judged by modern standards, most of Calderdn's secular 
 plays will be found either wanting in moral purposes, or, more 
 frequently, decidedly immoral. It is hard to find a villain 
 among his characters ; even the devil generally acts with the 
 utmost propriety, and enlists our sympathies by his artless 
 nature, which frequently allows him to be defrauded of his 
 just dues. But hideous crimes, murders, betrayals of trust, 
 and breaches of hospitality abound, nor do they seem to 
 produce much regret in their perpetrators, or to incur the 
 reprobation of the other characters. This is undoubtedly, in 
 part at least, an inherent defect of Calderdn's method ; he 
 depended upon situations for effect, and the situations had to 
 be strong ones in order to arouse the interest of his hearers. 
 
 Behind the code of honour, and supplementing it as a rule 
 of life, stands the teaching of the Church, the doctrines of 
 which Calderdn sometimes pushes to such extremes as to 
 wellnigh reduce them to absurdity. An example of this is the 
 Devocibn de la Cruz, in which the hero, after leading an utterly 
 depraved life and committing a series of most hideous crimes, 
 is finally found worthy of resuscitation and salvation, simply 
 because throughout his career he has always preserved a super- 
 stitious reverence for the sacred symbol. It is easy to imagine 
 the effect of such teaching as this among a people which, 
 though not bloodthirsty, has always been somewhat more 
 reckless of life than its neighbours. In spite of these obvious 
 blemishes, Calderdn will ever remain a great Christian, or 
 rather, a great Catholic poet ; he has a wide sense of the 
 
196 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 beauty and harmony of the universe, and a perfect belief in 
 the wisdom and justice of God and of His representative on 
 earth, the Church. He must not be blamed if his love for 
 nature is somewhat artificial, if he occasionally speaks as though 
 flowers and birds had been created for the purpose of providing 
 him with the rich imagery in which he excels, nor for the hollow 
 sentiment and hair-splitting sophistry which he puts into the 
 mouths of his characters even at the most thrilling moments. 
 He did not create the Spanish drama, he merely followed the 
 lines that had been already laid down. He attempted by 
 exaggerating the type to give freshness to stock characters, 
 and these he places in situations that are unparalleled in the 
 experience of everyday life. By so doing he created a world 
 such as never existed in any time or country, and, departing 
 from truth and nature, he hastened a decadence the signs of 
 which were everywhere apparent. Calderon is the greatest 
 Spanish dramatist because he is the greatest poet who adopted 
 the dramatic form, but he does not, like Shakespeare, stand 
 alone among his contemporaries. Lope de Vega, Tirso de 
 Molina, and Guillen de Castro knew better than he the 
 requirements of the stage, but none of them possessed his 
 versatility, imagination, and poetic sense of harmony. 
 
 In spite of the great number of his works, and the short- 
 lived purpose for which they were intended, Calderon seldom 
 wrote carelessly, and never slovenly. In order to save himself 
 trouble, he frequently introduces passages of which he has 
 before made use in a slightly different form. But it is hard 
 to believe that some of his plays, with their beautiful lyrics, 
 sonnets, and highly complicated metaphors, were meant to be 
 heard but few times, and even then amid the hurry and 
 bustle of the stage. To us they seem adapted rather for 
 reading than for acting. The elaboration and perfection of 
 many passages will repay the closest attention, and in fact 
 require it for their proper understanding. A noticeable 
 

 CALDERON 197 
 
 feature of most of Calderon's finest passages is their defiance ^ 
 of all attempts at translation. To this peculiarity two causes 
 contribute. Many words, expressions, and metaphors, that in 
 Spanish sound quite natural, become inflated, bombastic, and 
 absurd when rendered literally into other languages. Calderdn 
 frequently plays on the various shades of meaning of words 
 and expressions, so that the translator is obliged either to give 
 a grotesque literal rendering, or to alter the passage and sub- 
 stitute expressions of his own. Calderdn was a perfect master 
 of one of the richest languages in the world, and he frequently 
 makes use of this power in working out long passages of double 
 meaning, the exact bearing of which, on account of the delicacy 
 of their structure, it is almost impossible to render satisfactorily. 
 Certain English translators who have attempted the task have 
 produced exquisite verse, but the fruit of their labours must be 
 regarded rather as poetry inspired by the reading of the Spanish 
 original, than as a translation. 
 
 In humour Calderdn is distinctly lacking. None of his 
 plays are essentially comic, but in almost all the gracioso is 
 introduced. The gracioso is, as has been stated above, a stock 
 character, exhibiting even less variety than the more dignified 
 personages to whom he acts as a foil. He is invariably a 
 conceited, talkative, meddlesome coward ; his witticisms are 
 generally of the feeblest kind, and if he occasionally succeeds 
 in raising a smile, it is generally because of the strange situations 
 into which his many failings bring him. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 OTHER DRAMATISTS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 
 
 Observations on the Spanish Theatre and the Causes of its 
 
 Decay 
 
 Lope de Vega and Calderon are deservedly the two most 
 widely - known, as well as the two most representative and 
 typical dramatists of their country, but several others are 
 entitled to rank very near to them. If authors are to be 
 judged by single works, neither Lope nor even Calderon is 
 the greatest Spanish playwright. No other country and no 
 other age has produced so large a quantity of plays as Spain 
 in the latter half of the sixteenth and the early half of the 
 seventeenth century. Their very numbers and their uniform 
 standard of excellence have obscured the fame of individual 
 pieces ; the national taste too has changed and been corrupted, 
 and when one of the great classical dramas is revived, the 
 limited degree of enthusiasm that it arouses is generally half 
 factitious. During the last hundred and fifty years the Spanish 
 stage has been occupied chiefly by translations, or adaptations, 
 of the lighter kind of French plays : the national tradition is 
 dead, and modern Spanish dramatists look beyond the Pyrenees 
 for their models ; even among scholars few can boast an ade- 
 quate knowledge of the huge mass of obsolete literature that 
 constitutes the Spanish drama. Space will not allow more 
 
DRAMATISTS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 199 
 
 than a brief mention of the most famous works of some few of 
 the play-writers of the Golden Age who are distinguished from 
 the general body by special qualities or notable individual 
 works. 
 
 Guillen de Castro, a Valencian of noble family, was a 
 contemporary and friend of Lope de Vega. Born in 1567, he 
 gave early proof of his literary talents, and became a member 
 of the local academy or poetasters' club, known as the Noctur- 
 nos, in which were enrolled some of the best writers of his time. 
 The young De Castro did not at first look to literature for a 
 living ; he joined the army, and became a captain of cavalry. 
 His literary fame, unusual in one of so high a position, soon 
 brought him into notice ; he left the army, and, for a time, 
 enjoyed the protection of some of the great men of the age. 
 The Conde de Benavente, viceroy of Naples, conferred upon 
 him an important appointment in the government of that 
 kingdom, and when he returned to Spain he received a pension, 
 first from the Duke of Osuna, and afterwards from the Count- 
 Duke of Olivares. His literary reputation stood very high ; 
 Cervantes mentions the great popularity of his dramas, and 
 Lope made use of Guillen de Castro's help in organising the 
 festivities that celebrated the canonisation of San Isidro in 
 1620. In spite of the many advantages which birth and 
 position put within his grasp, he died miserably in dire poverty 
 at the age of sixty-six, after gaining for some years a scanty 
 living with his pen. His harsh and stubborn character had 
 alienated all his friends ; that which had been forgiven to the 
 brilliant young soldier and man of letters was sufficient to 
 wreck the fortunes of the worn-out literary hack of the Madrid 
 theatres. 
 
 As a dramatist, Guillen de Castro followed closely in the 
 steps of Lope de Vega. It is not necessary to suppose that he 
 always consciously kept his great master in view, but Lope was 
 the acknowledged law-giver in almost every branch of the drama, 
 
-oo SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 and on each had left the impress of his individual genius, 
 thereby rendering the drawing of parallels between himself and 
 his successors an easy task. The Spanish play-writers had long 
 been aware of the inexhaustible treasure that lay ready to 
 their hands in the national traditions embodied in the ballads. 
 Patriotic feeling of a jealous and exclusive kind was strong, and 
 anything that could for a moment blind an audience to the 
 national decay which was becoming every day more and more 
 apparent was sure to be received with rapturous applause. 
 The virtues of an earlier and hardier age were not the less 
 appreciated because they had ceased to be practised, and those 
 who helplessly beheld the dismemberment of the Spanish power 
 paid ready homage to the heroes who, in days long past, had 
 helped to lay its foundation. Of this bent of the popular mind, 
 and of the readiest means of satisfying its cravings to forget 
 the present in the past, nobody was more keenly aware than 
 Guillen de Castro, and nobody has made better use on the 
 stage of the ballads which at his time still lingered on the lips 
 of the people. It is easy to imagine the thrill of enthusiasm 
 that must have run through a Spanish audience of the seven- 
 teenth century when well-known verses such as El conde 
 Alarcos or El conde d'Irlos 1 were thundered from the stage, 
 with their effect heightened by all the glamour of dramatic 
 action, or, better still, when the Cid, the great champion of the 
 re-conquest, and representative of the national ideal, appeared 
 before them, surrounded by the heroes well known to popular 
 tradition, and speaking the well-known words in the familiar 
 but ever stately and impressive ballad-measure. But Guillen 
 de Castro's two plays on the youthful exploits of the Cid (Las 
 Mocedades del Cid) owe their fame less to the enthusiasm which 
 they aroused at the time of their production, than to the fact 
 that they furnished the groundwork for the Cid of Corneille, 
 
 >*••!•***- .1 • . ' 
 
 1 These two ballads occur in the plays of Guillen de Castro that bear their 
 names. 
 
DRAMATISTS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 201 
 
 and through it exercised a wide and lasting influence on the 
 drama of Europe. 
 
 In these plays, as elsewhere in their author's writings, not 
 only is the story of the ballads (see p. 49) closely followed, 
 but the ballads themselves are frequently introduced into the 
 dialogue. The first of the two opens with the scene in which 
 the young Rodrigo is dubbed a knight. The insult suffered 
 by Diego Lainez at the hands of the Conde Lozano, the ven- 
 geance exacted by Rodrigo, the son's high spirit and the father's 
 stern confidence in his valour, coupled with anxiety on account 
 of his youth and inexperience, are well set forth. The meeting 
 of the two after the father's honour has been avenged, gave an 
 opportunity for fine writing and manly sentiment, which Guillen 
 de Castro used to the best advantage. It is, however, for his 
 treatment of the character of Jimena, the daughter of the 
 haughty Count, that most credit is due to him. In this par- 
 ticular he departs from, or rather develops and justifies, the 
 tradition of the romancero. According to the old legend, the 
 marriage arranged by the king between the Cid and the daughter 
 of the enemy whom he has slain is merely a matter of policy, 
 the means of staying a dangerous feud and appeasing the 
 offended honour of a great lady. The heroine of Guillen de 
 Castro's play, on the contrary, is placed in one of the most 
 thrilling dramatic situations that can be imagined. She has 
 long and deeply loved the young Rodrigo, and cannot but 
 admire the haughty spirit that has cost the life of her father. 
 Against these feelings are ranged her filial affection, the strict 
 code of honour under which she has been brought up, together 
 with all the fierce instincts of her family, age, and country. 
 But she crushes her heart within her, and passionately begs the 
 king to do justice on the slayer of her father. It is only by the 
 report of Rodrigo's death that the confession of her love is at 
 last wrung from her. The great Corneille saw clearly the 
 power and beauty of this almost unique situation, but bound 
 
202 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 by the rigid rules of " unity " to which the French drama was 
 submitted, he was forced to compress the action of his play 
 into the space of twenty-four hours, thus making the revulsion 
 of Jimena's feeling too violent to be natural, and too sudden to 
 carry with it the sympathy of the onlooker. 
 
 The latter part of the traditional story of the Cid offered no 
 such situation, and is adapted rather for epic than for dramatic 
 treatment. The unhappy love of Dona Urraca, the treachery 
 of Bellido Dolfos, the gallant conduct of Count Ordonez and 
 his sons, would each furnish material for a play ; the apparition 
 of St. Lazarus would probably be rejected altogether by an 
 experienced playwright of the present day; but Guillen de 
 Castro combined them all in a single drama, and gained 
 applause by the intrinsic merits of his subject rather than by 
 his treatment of it. His second play on the Mocedades del Cid 
 is crowded with personages and episodes which do nothing to 
 further its action ; it has no plot properly so called. 
 
 The other plays of Guillen de Castro are less well known. 
 Two of them derive their subjects from Don Quixote. Of these, 
 one bears the name of the Manchegan knight, the second 
 is a dramatised version of El Curioso Impertinente (Misplaced 
 Suspicions), an episodical story of no great value introduced 
 by Cervantes into his book. Don Quixote on the stage speaks 
 and acts in exact conformity with that which is related of him 
 in his History, but the dramatist was forced to have recourse 
 to minor characters, such as Cardenio and Dorotea, for his plot, 
 and the result is worthless, save for the sprightly dialogue and 
 correct versification that distinguished all the works of its 
 author. 
 
 Like most of his contemporaries, Guillen de Castro drew 
 upon the Bible and the Lives of the Saints for subjects for his 
 plays. His most successful effort in this direction is his Santa 
 Barbara, in which he introduces the devil in person, tempting 
 the saint whose unshaken constancy when suffering martyrdom 
 
■ kSIT ' 
 
 
 DRAMATISTS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 203 
 
 secured the conversion of her lover and her friends, together 
 with a signal triumph for the faith. In this play, as elsewhere, 
 human love is treated as symbolical of divine, in a manner that 
 even ingenuity and delicate handling cannot make pleasing to 
 modern taste. 
 
 With the exception of the Mocedades del Old, there is little 
 in Guillen de Castro's work to distinguish him from the general 
 body of the dramatists of Lope de Vega's school. His " cloak 
 and sword plays " are so similar in character to those of Lope 
 that it would be almost impossible to distinguish by internal 
 evidence between the work of the disciple and that of the 
 master, who was his contemporary. 
 
 Another dramatist who, like Guillen de Castro, owes his 
 reputation outside his own country chiefly to the creation of 
 a character which has become the literary property of the world, 
 is Gabriel Tellez, who published a number of plays under the 
 pseudonym of Tirso de Molina. Of his life little is known, 
 save that he was a native of Madrid, and studied in his youth 
 at Alcala. He took orders somewhat late in life, and it was 
 probably out of regard to his position as an ecclesiastic that 
 he concealed his real name when publishing the collection of 
 his plays, many of which are of a much looser character than 
 is usual on the Spanish stage. He died about the middle of 
 the seventeenth century. 
 
 The legend of Don Juan is probably founded on real events 
 that happened at Seville. The all-embracing genius of Lope 
 de Vega introduced parts of the story into the play entitled El 
 Dinero es quien hace Hombre (Money maketh Man), but Lope 
 failed to catch the gloomy horror of the subject, and had it not 
 been for Tirso de Molina it would probably have been speedily 
 forgotten. Quite apart from the distinction of having inspired 
 artists so widely different in character as Moliere and Corneille 
 in the past, and Byron, Mozart, and Zorilla (see p. 259) in the 
 present century, Tirso de Molina's play El Burlador de Sevilla 
 
20 4 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 (The Mocker of Seville) is of the highest order of merit, both 
 as regards general plan and execution. Nowhere has the 
 strange character of Don Juan been better portrayed. Its 
 interest lies in the powerful appeal that it makes to some of the 
 most complex feelings of human nature, and the shrinking and 
 unwilling admiration which its very boldness in vice compels 
 even from those in whom its atrocious villainy has aroused the 
 strongest reprobation and repugnance; one virtue alone, and 
 that not of the highest order, contributes the human element 
 in a character which, without it, would be inconceivable. 
 Courage is usually represented as springing from reliance on a 
 good cause and the promptings of a good conscience, but here 
 we have the unparalleled spectacle of cool daring in the face of 
 superhuman terrors, supported by nothing stronger than the 
 ordinary passions of mankind, to the gratification of which it 
 ruthlessly wins its way. It is strange to reflect that so mon- 
 strous and powerful a creation sprang from the brain of Gabriel 
 Tellez, the prior of the convent of Soria. 
 
 The following brief outline of the play will show to what 
 extent those who afterwards made use of the story are indebted 
 to Tellez for its form. The scene opens in Naples, where Don 
 Juan abuses the confidence of Isabel, who in the dark mistakes 
 him for her lover, the Duke Octavio. An alarm is raised and 
 Don Juan is captured ; he is, however, allowed to escape by 
 his uncle, the Spanish ambassador, to whom he has surrendered 
 himself. The next scene introduces a further piece of treachery. 
 Don Juan, on his return to Spain, is shipwrecked on the coast, 
 and is entertained by a fisherman's daughter named Tisbea, 
 who in turn becomes his victim. He abandons her, and, on 
 arriving at Seville, finds that the king has arranged a marriage 
 for him with Ana, the daughter of the Comendador Don 
 Gonzalo de Ulloa. But Don Juan's father has in the meantime 
 heard of his son's conduct with regard to the unhappy Isabel, 
 and demands that he shall be compelled to marry the lady 
 
DRAMATISTS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 205 
 
 whom he has so deeply wronged, and that Dona Ana shall be 
 given to the Duke Octavio. Dona Ana, however, has already 
 an accepted admirer in her cousin, the Marques de la Mota, 
 with whom she arranges a nightly interview. The letter 
 Containing the assignation falls into the hands of Don Juan, 
 who again personifies another man. This time the trick is 
 discovered and Dona Ana raises an alarm ; her father, the 
 Comendador, hurries up and is killed by Don Juan. One 
 more infamous act is needed to make the measure full. The 
 scene suddenly changes to a village wedding. The bride 
 attracts the baneful .attentions of Don Juan and falls a prey to 
 him. The consequences of the villain's crimes now begin to 
 overtake him. Isabel comes to Spain seeking justice, and falls 
 in with Tisbea. Don Juan is obliged to seek sanctuary in the 
 church where stands the statue of the Comendador whom he 
 has slain. The sight of it provokes no remorse ; he mocks at 
 it and jestingly invites it to sup with him. The appearance of 
 the statue at the appointed time produces no terror in Don 
 Juan, nay it does not even check his mocking humour. He 
 glibly accepts an invitation from his supernatural guest for the 
 following evening. The last scene is laid in the chapel where 
 lie the bones of the Comendador ; the man and the statue sit 
 down together, the former more provoking in attitude and more 
 bitter in language than ever. Suddenly the statue seizes and 
 slays him, the earth opens, and this type of superhuman 
 wickedness is swallowed up. The scene in which the statue of 
 the Comendador appears at supper is unsurpassed in grisly 
 impressiveness : — ' 
 
 1 Don Juan. dQuienva? 
 Don Gonzalo. Yo soy. 
 
 Catalinon. \ Muerto estoy ! 
 
 1 "D. /. Who is there ? 
 D. G. 'Tis I. 
 C. I am dying of fright ! 
 
2o6 
 
 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Don Gonzalo. 
 
 Don Juan. 
 Don Gonzalo. 
 Don Juan. 
 
 Don Gonzalo. 
 Don Juan. 
 Don Gonzalo. 
 Don Juan. 
 
 Don Gonzalo. 
 Don Juan. 
 Catalinon. 
 
 Don Gonzalo. 
 Don Juan. 
 
 Don Gonzalo. 
 Catalinon. 
 Don Gonzalo. 
 
 El muerto soy, no te espantes. 
 No entendi que me cumplieras 
 La palabra, segun haces 
 De todos burla. 
 
 I Me tienes 
 En opinion de cobarde ? 
 Si que aquella noche huiste 
 De mi, cuando me mataste. 
 Hui de ser conocido ; 
 Mas ya me tienes delante ; 
 Di presto lo que me quieres. 
 Quiero a cenar convidarte 
 Cenemos . . . 
 Valiente estas. 
 
 Tengo brio 
 Y corazon en las carnes. 
 Sientate. 
 
 I Donde ? 
 
 Con sillas 
 Vienen ya dos negros pages . . 
 I No conies tu ? 
 
 Comere, 
 Si me dieres aspid, aspides 
 Cuantos el infierno tiene. 
 Tambien quiero que te canten. 
 I Que vino beben aqui ? 
 Pruebalo. 
 
 D. G. I am the dead man, be not afraid. — I did not think thou wouldst 
 fulfil thy promise, so lightly dost thou hold promises. 
 
 D. J. Dost thou take me for a coward ? 
 
 D. G. Yea ; for on the night when thou didst slay me thou didst flee. 
 
 D. J. I fled for fear of being known ; but now we are met, say quickly 
 what thou wouldst with me. 
 
 D. G. I would have thee to sup with me. 
 
 D. J. Let us sup then. 
 
 D. G. Thou art a bold man. 
 
 D. J. I have courage and a good heart within me. 
 
 D. G. Be seated. 
 
 D. J. Where? 
 
 C. Two sable pages approach with chairs. 
 
 D. G. Dost thou not eat ? 
 
 D. J. If thou wilt give me adders I will eat as many as hell doth hold. 
 D. G. I would have music. 
 
 C. What wine do they drink here ? 
 
 D. G. Taste it. 
 
DRAMATISTS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 
 
 207 
 
 Catalinon. 
 
 Don Gonzalo. 
 
 Hiel y vinagre 
 Es este vino. 
 
 Este vino 
 Exprimen nuestros lagares. 
 Cantan dentro. Adviertan los que de Dios 
 Juzgan los castigos grandes 
 Que no hay plazo que no llegue 
 Ni deuda que no se pague. 
 
 Don Juan. 
 Don Gonzalo. 
 Don Juan. 
 
 Don Gonzalo. 
 
 Ya he cenado : haz que levanten 
 La mesa. 
 
 Dame esa mano 
 No temas la mano darme. 
 I Eso dices ? 1 Yo temor ? 
 
 (le da la mano) 
 \ Que me abraso ! No me abrases 
 Con tu fuego. 
 
 Esto es poco 
 Para el fuego que buscaste. 
 
 Esta es justicia de Dios 
 
 Quien tal hizo que tal pague. 
 Don Juan. \ Que me abraso ! No me aprietes. 
 
 Con la daga he de matarte. 
 
 Mas j ay, que me canso en vano 
 
 De tirar golpes al aire ! 
 
 — A tu hija no ofendi ; 
 
 Que vio mis enganos antes 
 Don Gonzalo. No importa, que ya pusiste 
 
 Tu intento. 
 
 C. This wine is gall and vinegar. 
 
 D. G. 'Tis such as our presses give. 
 
 Voices singing. Take warning all who — reflect on God's great chastise- 
 ments — that the future is near at hand — and all debts must be paid. 
 
 D. J. I have supped. Let the table be cleared. 
 
 D. G. Give here thy hand. Fear not to give me thy hand. 
 
 D.J. What sayest thou? I, afraid? (Gives him his hand.) I am 
 burning ! Burn me not with thy fire. 
 
 D. G. It is nothing in comparison of the fire that thou hast incurred. 
 Such is God's justice, as a man sins, so is he punished. 
 
 D. J. I am burning ! Stifle me not. With my dagger I will slay thee. 
 Alas, I struggle in vain, showering thrusts on the air ! I did thy daughter no 
 wrong ; she was not deceived by my wiles. 
 
 D. G. It matters not, for thy purpose was clear. 
 
2o8 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Don Juan. Deja que llame 
 
 Quien me confiese y absuelva. 
 Don Gonzalo. No hay lugar, ya acuerdas tarde. 
 Don Juan. \ Que me quemo ! j Que me abraso ! 
 Don Gonzalo. Esta es justicia de Dios 
 
 Quien tal hizo que tal pague. 
 {hiindense. ) 
 
 The consideration that Tirso de Molina built up his play 
 merely on the bare tradition that a libertine member of the 
 noble family of Tenorio was found dead hard by the statue 
 of the Comendador de Ulloa, whose daughter he had 
 wronged, justifies a lofty estimate of his imaginative and 
 dramatic power. The successive introduction of so many 
 of Don Juan's victims undoubtedly somewhat draws off the 
 attention from the main interest, but it gives a more distinct 
 idea than could otherwise be produced of the utter iniquity of 
 the man, and brings the audience into thorough sympathy with 
 the hideous punishment that finally overtakes him. 
 
 Such a play from the hands of Tirso de Molina is the more 
 surprising, as his taste led him to adopt light and even comic 
 subjects for most of his dramas. In this latter style he wrote 
 Don Gil de las Calzas Verdes (Don Gil of the Green Breeches), 
 one of the most thoroughly popular plays in Spain, and a type 
 of the play of intrigue as conceived in its author's age. So 
 intricate is the plot, and so many are the characters and the 
 transformations they undergo, that it is extremely difficult to 
 follow the thread of the action throughout. 
 
 Molina's lighter plays are, as has been said, defaced by a 
 licentiousness fortunately rare on the Spanish stage. His ideal 
 of love, the main theme of the comedia de capa y espada, is a 
 low one ; his female characters are rather loose than passionate ; 
 
 D. I. Let me call a confessor to shrive me. 
 
 D. G. It cannot be, thy purpose comes too late. 
 
 D. I. I am burning ! I am scorching ! 
 
 D. G. Such is God's justice, as a man sins, so is he punished. 
 
 ( They sink into the earth. ) ' ' 
 
 
DRAMATISTS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 209 
 
 the strict rules of the Spanish code of honour have but little 
 weight with his libertine heroes. His characters, however, are 
 really life-like ; his dialogue is bright and natural ; his know- 
 ledge of his native language is remarkable, and his versification 
 correct and flowing. A play that illustrates his merits, while 
 free to a great extent from his defects, is the Vergonzoso en 
 Palacio (Shameface at Court). 
 
 The grave and deeply religious side of the Spanish character 
 is represented in Molina's works by El conde?iado por descon- 
 fiado (The Doubter Damned), a play that will bear comparison 
 with Calderdn's philosophical dramas. A holy hermit, named 
 Paulo, has doubts as to his ultimate salvation, and prays that 
 his end may be revealed to him. A devil makes known to 
 him in a dream that his end will be the same as that of Enrico, 
 a well-known libertine and criminal. Paulo, in despair, aban- 
 dons his holy life and becomes a bandit. Enrico dies on the 
 scaffold, but is saved by his final repentance and his dutiful 
 conduct towards his father. Paulo, trusting to the promise 
 made by the devil, makes light of repentance when his end 
 draws nigh. He dies and is damned, but reappears to bear 
 witness that the devil's promise is false, Enrico being already 
 in glory. Truly dramatic is the scene in which Paulo, dis- 
 guised as a hermit, visits Enrico, whom he has condemned to 
 death, in order to discover if he will finally repent. After a 
 striking interview in the prison, finding that Enrico's heart is 
 still hardened, Paulo releases him for fear that, by putting him 
 to death while still impenitent, he may be condemning himself. 
 
 Besides his dramatic works, Tirso de Molina published two 
 celebrated collections of short stories after the Italian fashion, 
 both of which won great celebrity. The first, the Cigarrales de 
 Toledo, describes the festivities that are supposed to take place, 
 on the occasion of a wedding, at certain country houses {cigar- 
 rales) in the neighbourhood of Toledo. The stories and verses 
 which go to make up the book are told by the guests who 
 
 p 
 
2io SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 attend the wedding and own the houses which, on successive 
 days, are the scene of the rejoicings. This method of connect- 
 ing various detached stories shows the influence of Boccaccio, 
 and the stories themselves are marked by the artificial taste 
 and language of the time in which they were produced ; but the 
 verses, like all those by the same hand, are good, and the 
 book is by no means a dull one. The same cannot be said 
 for the second attempt of the author in the same direction. 
 In his Deleitar Aprovechando (Pleasure with Profit) Molina 
 adopts a severe and moral tone well suited to the ecclesiastic, 
 but sounding somewhat strangely in the mouth of the author 
 of certain of his plays. 
 
 Juan Ruiz de Alarcdn y Mendoza, a native of Mexico, was 
 born about the end of the sixteenth century. Coming over to 
 Europe early in life to finish his legal education, he studied at 
 Salamanca, and, after an attempt to find suitable employment 
 in his native country, entered the household of a nobleman of 
 the Spanish court and began to cultivate literature. His plays 
 brought him speedily into notice ; he was named Commissioner 
 for the Indies, an office which he enjoyed until the time of his 
 death, which took place in 1639.J In spite of the excellence 
 of his work, Alarcon seems never to have enjoyed any wide 
 popularity. He was attacked with great bitterness by several 
 of his rivals, some of whom were probably prompted by 
 jealousy \ even his physical deformities were held up to 
 ridicule ; the harsh and scurrilous lines which Quevedo wrote 
 on the unfortunate hunchback are well known. Alarcon's 
 work has special features that distinguish it from that of the 
 other dramatists of his time. He attempted a more perfect 
 study of character, and did something to vary the stock 
 \ dramatis personae, whereas the Spanish theatre generally relied 
 for its interest solely on complications of plot ; most of his 
 plays, too, contain a direct moral lesson ; he is justly styled 
 by A. Morel-Fatio the most serious and observant of Spanish 
 
 
DRAMATISTS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 211 
 
 poets. His most successful play is La Verdad Sospechosa (The 
 Truth Distrusted), to which Corneille owned himself indebted 
 for the plot and principal characters of his Menteur, and which 
 thus exercised an influence on French comedy at its best 
 period, similar to that which the Cid of Guillen de Castro 
 exercised on tragedy. The main idea running through the 
 piece is embodied in the Spanish proverb — en boca del 77ientiroso 
 lo cierto se hace dudoso (on the lips of the liar the truth is held 
 as falsehood). Don Garcia, a student of Salamanca, is cursed 
 by an inveterate habit of lying. Falling in love with Jacinta, 
 he tells her a series of untruths about himself and his position. 
 In the meanwhile his father has, without his knowledge, 
 arranged to marry him to the lady of his affections. Ignorant 
 of the fact that the lady whom his father has selected for him 
 is really his beloved Jacinta, and anxious to avoid a marriage 
 which he thinks would be distasteful to him, Don Garcia 
 pretends that he is already a married man. The confusion 
 thus created is sustained and made worse by a mistake that 
 Don Garcia has made, attributing to Jacinta the name of 
 Lucrecia, one of her friends. This mistake not only prevents 
 father and son from coming to an understanding, but entangles 
 Garcia in an engagement with Lucrecia, who receives and answers 
 his letters, imagining them to be addressed to herself. Finally 
 the liar is obliged to marry Lucrecia, whom he does not love, 
 while Jacinta becomes the wife of his rival. This somewhat 
 intricate plot gives occasion to a quantity of amusing incidents 
 and a good deal of careful character-drawing. The attempts 
 of Don Garcia to extricate himself from his entanglements are 
 most ingenious ; the scenes in which, driven to confess the 
 truth, he is disbelieved and treated as a liar, are among the 
 best of their kind in the Spanish theatre. 
 
 Of Alarcon's other plays, more than twenty in number, the 
 most famous is El Tejedor de Segovia (The Weaver of Segovia), 
 which turns on the popular Spanish theme of unswerving 
 
212 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 loyalty tried by the greatest injustice. Like the rest of its 
 author's work, it displays true dramatic instinct, careful and 
 sober versification, and considerably more finish than was 
 usual at his time. 
 
 One of the most deservedly popular plays of the Spanish 
 stage is El Desden con el Desden (Pride conquers Pride), turning 
 on the same central idea, as Milagros del Desprecio (Contempt 
 works Wonders) by Lope de Vega, but vastly better worked 
 out. The author, Augustin Moreto, was a native of Madrid. 
 Born at the period when the Spanish drama had reached its 
 most brilliant development, and when even the king 1 himself 
 was a playwright, Moreto studied at the University of Alcala, 
 and wrote all his plays, more than a hundred in number, before 
 he reached middle age. The strong and somewhat gloomy 
 religious feeling that forms so marked a feature of the Spanish 
 character became all-powerful in his declining years; he 
 became a member of a charitable brotherhood, and passed the 
 latter part of his life in the service of the poor. To them he 
 left his fortune, and he shared their burying-place after death. 
 
 Diana, the heroine of El Desden con el Desden, is the 
 daughter of the Count of Barcelona. Gifted with great beauty 
 and talent, she shows a rooted dislike to marriage. Her 
 father, thinking to overcome her prejudice, summons to his 
 court the neighbouring princes who are suitors for her hand. 
 Among them comes the Count of Urgel who, determined to 
 win the lady, conceals his passion under an affected indiffer- 
 ence, and makes profession of views similar to her own on the 
 subject of marriage. Piqued in her womanly pride by his 
 coolness, Diana determines to conquer it, and marshals all her 
 charms in order to bring him to her feet. In this dangerous 
 game she soon begins to lose her heart to him, and he is not 
 
 1 Two plays are attributed to Felipe IV., and others, by the same hand, 
 are supposed to be contained among the large number of those by anonymous 
 writers. 
 
DRAMATISTS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 213 
 
 slow to perceive it. Urged by his own impatience the Count 
 declares his love before matters are ripe. Diana seeing him, 
 as she supposes, in her power, treats him as she had treated 
 former suitors. The lover's presence of mind, however, does 
 not desert him ; he craftily passes off the matter as a joke that 
 could not possibly have any evil consequences when passing 
 between parties whose opinions with regard to marriage are so 
 notorious. Finally, Diana's jealousy is roused; she declares 
 her passion, and a thoroughly agreeable and healthy play ends 
 with a wedding. The secondary characters are carefully and 
 consistently drawn ; the gr arioso forms an exception to his 
 class by being really witty and amusing. On Moreto's play 
 Moliere founded his Princesse oV Elide, closely following the 
 original in many scenes. 
 
 Moreto, like Alarcon, is distinguished by unusual care in 
 the drawing of character, and also by light and graceful fancy 
 and suitable and natural dialogue. His sense of humour 
 is more keen than that of most of the Spanish dramatists, 
 as may be seen by reading his Tia y Sobrina (Aunt and 
 Niece) or his Lindo Don Diego (Don Diego the Fop). In the 
 latter play the hero, carried away by his own vanity, falls at 
 last a prey to a designing waiting-maid, who trades upon his 
 folly and represents herself to be a person of high position. But 
 Moreto did not always devote himself to light subjects ; his 
 Caer para Levantar'fy. Fall precedes a Rise) and San Franco 
 de Sena have a gloomy side, and show the powerful working 
 of the deeper passions. Moreto was the first to make good 
 use of figurones or comic types of character such as had been 
 first introduced by the universal genius, Lope de Vega. His 
 handling of these is particularly skilful ; the caricature under 
 his hands never becomes repulsive, nor do the Jigurones 
 themselves lose their freshness* His work was much admired 
 by his contemporaries j the great Calderon himself collaborated 
 with him in the production of certain plays. 
 
 •" 
 
2i4 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 A considerable figure in the literary world of his own time, 
 though he has left little that an after age cares to treasure, is 
 Juan Perez de Montalvan, the intimate friend and biographer of 
 Lope de Vega. Montalvan was the son of the royal librarian j 
 his education was the best that his age could furnish, and he 
 early attained a considerable reputation as a scholar, Like 
 many other Spanish men of letters, Montalvan entered the 
 Church; but his literary activity was not checked by his 
 ecclesiastical duties ; when he died in 1638, at the age of 
 thirty-six, he had already produced nearly fifty plays, besides 
 writing novels and taking a conspicuous part in the literary 
 tournaments common at the time. The esteem in which he 
 was held was very great * his reputation, even during his short 
 lifetime, had crossed the seas ; a Peruvian, to whom he was 
 personally unknown, assigned him a considerable pension to 
 which certain obligations of a religious nature were attached. 
 He had, however, enemies, chief among whom was Quevedo. 
 These were never weary of ridiculing the author and his work, 
 and even went so far as to say that all that was worth preserv- 
 ing of the books published in his name had been written by 
 Lope, who is known to have helped him in his literary under- 
 takings. Montalvan's Para todos (Everybody's Book) is a 
 collection of bright stories, spoilt in many instances by pedantry 
 and affectation. The stories are loosely connected, after the 
 same fashion as the Cigarrales de Toledo by Tirso de Molina, 
 which Montalvan evidently had in view when writing them. The 
 book was so successful that it produced imitators, who took no 
 trouble to conceal their plagiarism j they adopted even the 
 title with but slight modification, Matias de los Reyes called 
 his collection of stories Para algnnos (Some People's Book) ; 
 Peralta called his Para si £One's Own Book).. Montalvan was 
 encouraged to try again, and afterwards published eight more 
 stories which are, in some degree, free from the faults of the 
 former ones. 
 
DRAMATISTS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 215 
 
 As a dramatist Montalvan does not rise above second-rate 
 merit, but his Amantesjde.Teruel deserves notice on account of 
 its graceful treatment of a story which has for several centuries 
 formed an important part of the stock-in-trade of Spanish 
 authors. In the town of Teruel in Aragdn is shown a sepulchre 
 which is said to hold the bones of two lovers whose fate 
 created a deep impression on the popular mind. The legend 
 told of them is undoubtedly of early date. It is as follows. 
 Both were natives of the town, and their passion was of the 
 deepest and most tender description ; but the suitor was 
 refused ] - f he lady's family on account of his scanty means. 
 Relyir he constancy of his lady, and the promises made 
 
 to hin she shall not be compelled to marry before the 
 
 lapse c ertain number of years, the lover sets out to seek his 
 fortune. After many adventures he at last attains his object, 
 and gleefully starts for home. But during his long absence 
 he has been unable to send any news of himself to the lady 
 who pines for him in his absence, and she has been worked 
 upon to believe that he is dead. He arrives just at the moment 
 when her wedding with a rival is being celebrated. Making 
 his way to her room he falls dead at her feet. The lady, who 
 throughout has been faithful to him, expires before the day of 
 his funeral, and the two are buried together. The first to 
 make use of the story was an inferior dramatist named 
 Artieda, who wrote his Amantes de Teruel in 1581. In 1616, 
 a long poem on the same subject, but also embracing many 
 others, was published at Valencia by Yagiie de Salas. This 
 was followed, in 1635, by a play, bearing the same name, from 
 the pen of Tirso de Molina. Montalvan made use of Molina's 
 play in his own, improving upon his predecessor's work, and 
 endeavouring to add interest to the story by bringing it several 
 centuries nearer to his time and connecting it with well-known 
 events that occurred in the reign of Charles V. During the 
 present century this legend — for legend it must be called, in 
 
216 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 spite of the evidence manufactured in order to give it an 
 historical character — has been made to furnish a plot for a 
 novel and also for another play, the latter from the hand of 
 Hartzenbusch the Academician. 
 
 A witty and original Spanish playwright, whose merits 
 French authors were more ready to perceive than to acknow- 
 ledge, was Francisco de Rojas, a contemporary and also 
 imitator of Calderon. Of his life very little is known. He was 
 a native of Toledo ; was at one period of his life a soldier ; 
 and received in 1644 the mantle of the order of Santiago, 
 which may be interpreted as a sign of court favour. Of his 
 literary abilities we are enabled to judge by a collection of 
 about fifty plays — in the composition of some of which Rojas 
 collaborated with other dramatists — and a dozen autos of but 
 slight merit. These numbers are merely approximate, for 
 Rojas himself published only two volumes of his works com- 
 prising twenty-four plays. Many others, published separately, 
 are undoubtedly written by him, but such was the carelessness 
 of dramatic authors as to literary property in what they 
 considered merely ephemeral productions, and such the un- 
 scrupulousness of booksellers and the indifference of the public, 
 that to Rojas, as to many others of his contemporaries, works 
 are ascribed which are certainly not his own, whilst the credit 
 of some authentic ones has gone to swell the account of his 
 rivals. 
 
 The two most celebrated plays of Rojas are a comedy and 
 a melodrama. The former is entitled Entre Bobos anda el 
 Juego (The Simpletons' Sport). The argument is as follows. 
 Dona Isabel, is affianced against her will to Don Lucas del 
 Cigarral. She does not, however, confine her attentions to her 
 somewhat commonplace betrothed, but encourages another 
 admirer, Don Luis, and really loves Don Pedro, the poor and 
 attractive cousin of the uncouth Don Lucas, thus carrying out 
 fully the precept of the popular copla — 
 
DRAMATISTS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 217 
 
 1 La niiia que quiere a dos 
 No es tonta sino advertida, 
 Si una vela se le apaga 
 Otra le queda encendida. 
 
 Don Pedro has also won the affections of Alfonsa, the sister 
 
 of his cousin and rival, Don Lucas. The whole party is 
 
 assembled at an inn. A nightly interview is arranged by Don 
 
 Pedro with Isabel. Don Luis, searching for Isabel in the 
 
 dark, meets Alfonsa and enjoys the favours which are meant 
 
 for Don Pedro, for whom the lady mistakes him. Don Pedro, 
 
 in order to allay the suspicions of Don Lucas, is now obliged 
 
 to pay marked attentions to Alfonsa. The jealousy of Isabel 
 
 is aroused, and an explanation between the parties ensues. 
 
 Meantime Don Luis has been pushing his suit, and, thinking 
 
 that he has gained Isabel's affections, he demands of Don 
 
 Lucas that he should abandon his claim upon her. This Don 
 
 Lucas very wisely does, but not in favour of Don Luis ; for, 
 
 having learned the truth from Alfonsa, he marries Isabel to 
 
 his cousin Don Pedro, and leaves to time and poverty the 
 
 charge of avenging his injured feelings. 
 
 The above-mentioned melodrama is the celebrated Del Rey 
 
 abajo Ninguno (None but the King alone). In spite of many 
 
 dramatic faults, this play deserves its wide popularity. The 
 
 argument brings into play in the strongest manner the two 
 
 ruling passions of the Spanish theatre — the sense of personal 
 
 honour and the obligation of unswerving and exaggerated 
 
 loyalty to the king. In the present instance these two feelings 
 
 strive for the mastery of a typically Spanish mind, and the 
 
 result could not fail to be acceptable to those for whom the 
 
 play was intended. To those who have not be'en brought 
 
 up in the traditions of the Spanish stage, both sentiments must 
 
 seem somewhat strained and unnatural. The hero of the 
 
 piece, Garcia del Castanar, lives retired from the court by 
 
 1 ' ' The lady who has two lovers is wise rather than foolish : if one flame 
 goes out another is still alight." 
 
218 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 reason of an unjust suspicion under which his father has fallen. 
 By the munificence of his contribution to the expenses of a 
 forthcoming expedition against the Moors, the attention of 
 Alfonso XL is called to him. Failing to recognise the noble- 
 man under his assumed name, the king determines to disguise 
 himself and to visit his wealthy and generous subject. Don 
 Garcia is informed of his intention, and receives him hospitably, 
 but mistakes one of the suit, Don Mendo, for the king. Don 
 Mendo falls in love with his host's wife, and is surprised by 
 Don Garcia while attempting to enter her apartment. For 
 such an outrage the penalty is death ; but the king's person 
 is sacred, and Don Garcia, though persuaded of his wife's 
 innocence, determines on her murder as the sacrifice demanded 
 by his injured honour. His design is frustrated by her escape 
 to the court. Thither Don Garcia follows her and immedi- 
 ately learns his mistake. His course is now clear, and he 
 faithfully carries out the precept of the stage code of honour by 
 slaying his enemy in the royal ante-chamber. He is, of course, 
 pardoned by the king, who very naturally concurs in the 
 opinion that None but the King alone has any right to look for 
 forgiveness in such a case. 
 
 The above notice of Spanish dramatists might be indefinitely 
 extended were mention made of all those who supplied the 
 stage during the best period with plays of a high order of 
 merit. Even the most successful were only represented a v few 
 times, so that the demand was continual; moreover an audience, 
 educated by Calderon and Lope, could not be expected to 
 tolerate inferior work. The fertility and inventiveness of the 
 Spanish dramatic authors during a period of one hundred 
 years is unparalleled. In spite of the somewhat narrow and 
 conventional limits which they had fixed for their art, there is 
 scarcely any department of the drama in which Spaniards did 
 not attain a success that owed nothing to imitation of foreign 
 masterpieces. Many of the stock characters and most ingenious 
 
DRAMATISTS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 219 
 
 plots of the French and English stage, which now, through the 
 wearing-down process of time, seem to bear no mark of their 
 Spanish origin, can be historically traced to the great body of 
 writers of whom, by reason of the limits of space, so few are 
 here named. 
 
 From the time of Lope de Vega onward, little change or 
 development in the form of the drama is perceptible. Later 
 playwrights followed the lines which he had laid down, not so 
 much from a slavish wish to copy the master, as because in 
 every branch of the art he had tried his hand, and had every- 
 where won such success that, to those of his own time, it 
 seemed as if no further development or improvement were 
 possible. And, in one respect, they were right. With the 
 plays of Goethe and of Shakespeare, plays that probe deep into 
 the human heart and discuss the great problems of human life, 
 the Spanish drama has nothing to compare, unless it be some 
 few grandly conceived but hastily executed dramas of Calderdn, 
 and of one or two others. In the delineation of character the ■' 
 Spanish stage is still more markedly inferior. For the great 
 geniuses of other countries it provided certain materials of 
 which much could be made, and for this it must be given due 
 credit, but the provider of the rough materials must not ( 
 claim the finished work as his own. When Corneille, Moliere, 
 Le Sage, and Scarron steal from the Spanish stage, they almost \ 
 in every instance justify their theft by marked improvements on 
 the adopted theme. The one form of the drama which Spain 
 not only created, but in which she stands unrivalled, is the 
 play depending for interest entirely on its plot, the play in 
 which certain stock characters, whose actions under any given 
 circumstances can be infallibly foretold, are always on the\ 
 stage, and are made to 'afford amusement by the inexhaustible' 
 combinations of which they are susceptible, and the ready wit I 
 of the creators of their picturesque adventures and surround/ 
 ings. This may not be the highest form of the art, but it 
 
t 
 
 I 
 
 220 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 is no small glory for Spanish authors to have evolved 
 unaided almost every form of the modern drama and to have 
 excelled in one. 
 
 So attached were the Spanish audiences to the stock char- 
 acters, the galdn and dama, the gracioso and barba of their 
 " sword and cloak " plays, that they introduce them with but 
 slight disguises into religious plays. The Church, during the 
 Golden Age of Spanish literature, looked on the drama with 
 varying degrees of disfavour ; on one or two occasions plays 
 were prohibited altogether and the theatres were closed, but 
 generally the slightest veil of religious purpose in the selection 
 of the plot and naming of the characters was sufficient to 
 disarm suspicion ; the galdn sighed and quarrelled, and the 
 gracioso cracked his jokes none the less glibly because he 
 found himself suddenly transported to Babylon or to Antioch, 
 or to the period of the persecution of the early Christians. 
 
 The universal passion for play-going was condemned by- 
 some of the most thoughtful Spaniards, and Mariana, 1 among 
 others, raised his voice against it when as yet the evil had not 
 reached its height. Yet, setting aside the matter of bloodshed 
 arising frequently from causes too slight to be credible, the 
 national drama as a whole can scarcely have been considered 
 immoral by writers of the seventeenth century unless their 
 views were far in advance of the age. Indecency is very rare, 
 and when it appears, as it does in Tirso de Molina's plays, 
 it is generally confined to coarseness of expression. From 
 villains and abject characters the Spanish stage is almost 
 entirely free. The sentiments and motives represented are 
 either those of Spain's heroic period, exaggerated for the 
 purpose of greater effect, or those of a purely imaginary age. 
 
 For the sudden decay and final extinction of so strong a 
 growth, several reasons may be given. The drama in its 
 
 1 See his violent attack on the theatre, Contra los luegos Ptlblicos, caps. 
 
 1-12. 
 
DRAMATISTS OF THE GOLDEN AGE 221 
 
 origin was entirely popular, and it remained so until the time 
 of Lope de Vega ; afterwards it became more and more 
 artificial, and the successful playwright was the darling of the 
 court, writing to please the taste of munificent patrons such as 
 the later kings of the house of Austria. The people deserted the 
 theatres which had ceased to cater for their tastes, and betook 
 themselves to lower forms of amusement, more especially to 
 stage-dancing of a more or less licentious character, which 
 often drew down repressive measures from the Government. 
 The dramatists who wrote to secure court favour produced 
 some of the best of Spanish plays, but with the accession of 
 Felipe V., French taste was introduced in high places, and the 
 Spanish authors found themselves unable to vie with their 
 neighbours to whom, during the foregoing century, they had 
 provided models. But those who would seek the real cause 
 of this decay must go much deeper and study the influence 
 of the national fortunes upon national character. The most 
 brilliant period of Spanish literary glory, according to a rule 
 that seems well-nigh universal, coincided with the most brilliant 
 period of military glory and national activity. As the Spanish 
 empire widened, so did the national character develop, and 
 the joyous and free side of it so gained the upper hand as 
 to cause the gloomy and harsh side to be almost forgotten. 
 But reverses came ; the Spaniards had adopted an attitude 
 that cut them off from the rest of Europe at a time when 
 increased facilities for the communication of ideas should have 
 made their genius more cosmopolitan. Buoyancy, such as the 
 French possess, has been denied to the Spanish nation, and, 
 finding themselves no longer masters of the world, they with- 
 drew into a haughty and gloomy retirement; unable any 
 longer to hold the foremost position, they proudly gave up the 
 struggle altogether. The harsh fanaticism that produced the 
 Inquisition took the place of the strong religious feeling that 
 had upheld them during their struggle of seven centuries with 
 
222 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 the Moors. The spirit of enterprise died out, and Spain 
 remained at a standstill during the period in which the rest of 
 Europe was advancing most rapidly. Something of the im- 
 mutability of the East seemed to have remained with her ; she 
 clung fondly to her ideals ; but her ideals were those of an age 
 that had departed never to return. 
 
V 7 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 EPIC AND NARRATIVE POETRY IN THE SIXTEENTH AND 
 SEVENTEENTH CENTURIES 
 
 A feeling of weariness and depression at once overtakes the 
 reader on opening the two volumes which Rivadeneyra, in his 
 series of Autores Espafio/es, devotes to Epic Poetry. They con- 
 tain nearly two hundred thousand lines of verse, none of which 
 rises above second-rate merit, while by far the larger proportion 
 is utterly worthless and prosaic ; yet they entirely omit Lope de 
 Vega, whose heroic compositions would fill another volume of 
 the same size without materially altering the general standard. 
 In the chapter specially devoted to Lope's writings, mention 
 has been made of his He7-mosura de Afigelica, but four more 
 long poems must be noticed in order to give some idea of 
 his success in this kind of compositioni Two of these draw 
 the little inspiration they possess from a rooted hatred towards 
 the English race, natural enough in a soldier of the Invincible 
 Armada, The subject of the Dragontea is Sir Francis Drake, 
 El Draque as he is called by the Spaniards, who regarded the 
 bold freebooter as an embodiment of the wickedness of Pro- 
 testantism, and as a scourge of the devil sent to chastise their 
 country for its sins % The Dragontea is crowded with allegorical 
 personages • its style is hollow and bombastic ; it neither in- 
 creases our sympathy for the nation it was meant to glorify, 
 nor does it succeed in vilifying those against whom it was 
 
224 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 written. A celestial and a terrestrial argument are carried on 
 without a hero, properly so called, unless it be the feeble 
 allegorical " Spain," or " Providence," who freed her from her 
 hated foe by his death at Puerto Bello in 1596. 
 
 Once again Lope used his pen in a bitter invective against 
 the champions of Protestantism. The execution of Mary 
 Queen of Scots has been the theme of many poems, but none 
 is so extravagant as the Corona Trdgica. Mary is extolled as 
 a martyr, and Elizabeth treated with a violence that amounts 
 to brutality and coarse abuse. On such a subject all Lope's 
 grace forsook him, and he filled his pages with frigid and feeble 
 religious controversy. 
 
 Lope's longest and most characteristic epic is his Jerusalen 
 Conquistada, a curious misnomer, for it treats of the unsuccess- 
 ful expedition under Philip Augustus and Richard Cceur-de- 
 Lion. It is indeed strange that a Christian poet should have 
 chosen such a subject, but stranger still is his rambling and 
 diffuse treatment of it. Regardless of historical truth, Lope 
 drags Alfonso VIII. of Castile into the miserably wasteful and 
 badly planned campaign round which so much legend centres. 
 But the Alfonso of the poem is a very different person from 
 the historical king of the same name ; he is, in fact, no other 
 than our old acquaintance the galdn of the " cloak and sword " 
 play in a new dress. The action — or rather actions of the 
 poem, for they are many — drags wearily from Europe to Asia 
 and back again, seldom relieved by a fine scene or really 
 stately verse. The only person who comes well out of the 
 indiscriminate slaughter is Saladin, but the character is so 
 inconsistent that it fails to retain the interest that it arouses. 
 
 In his mock epic, the Gatomaqaia (Battle of the Cats), 
 Lope avoids the monotony of the eleven -syllable octaves 
 {pctavas reales) cultivated by almost all Spanish narrative 
 poets, and writing in lines of irregular length (silvas) is now 
 and then really amusing and brilliant. The Gatomaquia 
 
POETRY IN XVI. AND XVI T. CENTURIES 225 
 
 is undoubtedly imitated from the old Greek Battle of the Frogs 
 and the Mice, but the best parts of the struggle between the 
 rival pretenders to the hand of the tabby Zapaquilda are 
 parodied from Ariosto and other Italian poets. Lope's carica- 
 ture of the works of these authors is far more successful than 
 his serious imitation (Hermosura de Angelica), but, like it, errs 
 on the side of inordinate length. 
 
 Another and equally successful comic poem is the Alosquea, 
 by Jose de Villaviciosa, a canon of Cuenca. Twelve long 
 cantos are devoted to the heroic exploits of flies and ants, 
 whose pompous speeches and spirited single combats are 
 described in the style of the sEneid. One of the most powerful 
 passages describes the dashing assault made by the flies on the 
 skull of an ass in which the ants have taken up a strong 
 position. 
 
 The poems contained in Rivadeneyra's volumes may be 
 roughly divided, according to subject, into three classes — those 
 that treat of religious matters, those that sing the glories of the 
 earlier members of the Austrian dynasty, and those that cele- 
 brate the conquest of the New World. 
 
 Under the first of these headings comes the Monserrate of 
 Cristobal de Virnes, published in 1588. This long poem, 
 written in verse, the tame correctness of which at length 
 becomes wearisome, tells of the foundation of the monastery 
 of Cataluna, from which it takes its name. Juan Garin, a holy 
 hermit, dwelling amidst the eastern spurs of the Pyrenees, is 
 tempted by the devil in person to violate and murder the 
 daughter of the Count of Barcelona, who has been brought to 
 him to receive healing at his hands. Stricken by remorse, he 
 makes his way to Rome seeking absolution. By way of 
 penance he is bidden to return to his country on hands and 
 knees like a brute. Finally, assured of his pardon from God 
 by the words of a child of tender years, forgiven also by the 
 father of his victim, he repairs to the spot where the body is 
 
 Q 
 
226 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 buried. Our Lady appears and brings to life the long-buried 
 girl, and the monastery is founded to celebrate the miracle. 
 
 A more truly religious spirit inspired the Cristiada of Fray 
 Diego de Hojeda. Its twelve cantos relate the Passion of our 
 Lord, beginning with the Last Supper and ending with the 
 descent into Hell. Hojeda versifies with some spirit, and he 
 feels deeply the events which he relates ; but for effective 
 treatment his subject demanded much higher talents than he 
 possessed, and the best parts of his poem are little better than 
 a rhymed sermon. 
 
 The Carolea by Jeronimo Sempere, and the Carlo famoso 
 by Luis de Zapata, which profess to be epic poems, are really 
 rhymed chronicles, written, as Nicolas Antonio says, " neque 
 finra neque poetica dictione." The weary story of the wars of their 
 hero is told in prosaic style and chronological order. Where 
 the authors give play to their imagination, it generally takes a 
 mythological form, and the result is cold and artificial in the 
 extreme. The Carlo famoso contains a few interesting details, 
 which are, however, but slightly connected with its subject, and 
 would be much better told in prose. 
 
 The exploits of Don Juan de Austria and the battle of 
 Lepanto are feebly sung by Juan Rufo. His Austriada, pub- 
 lished in 1584, has, however, the honour of being classed by 
 Cervantes along with the Araucana and Monserrate as the best 
 Spanish epic, a compliment which, even if true, does not amount 
 to much. 
 
 Don Alonso Ercilla y Zuniga began life at the 'court of 
 Felipe II., whom he accompanied to England on the occasion 
 of his marriage with Queen Mary. As a young man he went. 
 to America, and took part in an expedition against the brave 
 Indian inhabitants of the valley of Arauco in Chile. He was 
 condemned to death for mutinous conduct by the leader of the 
 expedition, but the sentence was commuted to banishment. 
 Finally he found his way back to Spain, bringing with him the 
 
POETRY IN XVI. AND XVII. CENTURIES 227 
 
 first part of the poem that celebrates the campaign. He died 
 in poverty during the last years of the sixteenth century. 
 
 Ercilla himself tells how his Arancana was composed, " at 
 times with sword in hand, at times with pen " (tomando, ora la 
 espada, ora la pluma), and that parts of it were written in 
 circumstances of difficulty and danger, but its greatest fault is 
 its inordinate length.. The whole poem is made up of no 
 less than thirty-seven cantos in ottava rima. In the first part 
 (fifteen cantos) the author restricts himself to the events of the 
 campaign in Chile. The doings of each day are recorded in 
 the form of a rhymed journal, but occasionally the poem takes 
 a loftier flight. It is remarkable that such sympathy as it calls 
 forth is entirely in favour of the Indians, the more or less 
 imaginary characters of some of whom are truly heroic. The 
 Spaniards are represented as brave, but their cruelty and bad 
 faith are evident, and cannot be excused by their avowed object 
 of converting the heathen. The second and third parts of 
 the poem deal in visions and mythology. By this means the 
 battles of Lepanto and of St. Quentin are introduced. The 
 story of Dido is told with much detail in order to solace the 
 soldiers in their march through the Andes. The language of 
 the Araucana is dignified and simple, and its versification 
 correct ; but little that is worthy of the name of poetry is to be 
 found in it, though it is admittedly the best attempt at formal 
 epic in the Spanish tongue. 
 
 Ercilla found an imitator in Pedro de Ofia, who in his 
 Arauco" do?7iado (Arauco Conquered) celebrates the exploits of 
 Garcia Hurtado de Mendoza, the leader of the expedition, 
 whom Ercilla, probably from personal motives, had neglected 
 to mention. Ona lacks the chivalrous character that cast a 
 halo over the tedious poem which Ercilla, as Morel-Fatio well 
 puts it, "wrote with a pike." 
 
 The heroic deeds of Cortes are told at great length in 
 indifferent verse by Gabriel Lasso de la Vega in El Cortes 
 
228 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 valeroso, and by Antonio de Saavedra in El Peregrino 
 India?w. 
 
 Juan de Castellanos, after .serving as a soldier, settled as a 
 priest at Tunja iivMexico,jand wrote the Elegias de vaivnes 
 ilustres de Indicts. Many curious facts about the early dis- 
 coverers and conquerors of America, as well as interesting 
 details as to the manners and customs of the inhabitants, are 
 recorded in this gigantic work, but, like the foregoing, it is 
 almost entirely devoid of poetry. 
 
 Ariosto found two Spanish imitators. Luis Barahona de 
 Soto continued the Italian poem with but slight success in his 
 Lagrimas de A?igelica (Tears of Angelica). Bernardo de Bai- 
 buena, imitating a foreigner, took for his hero his namesake 
 and fellow-countryman Bernardo del Carpio. In spite of a 
 warm imagination and great inventive faculty the twenty-four 
 crowded cantos of slipshod verse did little towards increasing 
 the reputation of the hero or founding one for the author. 
 The Bernardo is in fact a rhymed romance of chivalry, just as 
 the Carolea is a rhymed chronicle. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY TO THE 
 
 WAR OF INDEPENDENCE 
 
 When at the beginning of the eighteenth century the last 
 feeble representative of the great House of Austria died, and 
 the succession fell to the Bourbons, it was inevitable that 
 French influences should become paramount in Spain. The 
 country had lost its national traditions, and the glorious past 
 was as yet too little removed for the descendants of its heroes 
 to be conscious of its importance. It was not in Spain only 
 that the influence of the great French writers of the age of 
 Louis XIV. made itself felt ; all Europe bowed before it, but 
 in Spain it found a free field, and its artificial expansion was 
 furthered by the well-known sympathies of the court. Its 
 effects were, on the whole, salutary ; nothing could be built on 
 the ruins of the old literature, and French influences cleared 
 the ground for a fresh development. The literature which has 
 been briefly examined in the foregoing pages is, in the main, 
 essentially popular in character, and a natural outgrowth of the 
 national life. The makers of the ballads, the founders of the 
 drama, and the inventors of the picaresque novel, were not 
 hampered by literary canons or prejudices ; they had no models 
 in view ; they wrote to please the multitude, and their works 
 went straight to the popular heart. This tendency is directly 
 opposed to the classicism of the French school. To blend 
 
230 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 the two systems was impossible, and thus it is that the precepts 
 of the classical school killed the little that remained of the old 
 Spanish genius without taking root themselves. The whole of 
 Spain was suffering from the exhaustion that follows on a 
 mighty effort. In arms, in arts, and in letters she had pro- 
 duced her best, and the rude shock of finding her very national 
 independence gone was needed in order to rouse her from the 
 state of lethargy into which she had sunk. When at last 
 she awoke the aspect of the world was changed : the eighteenth 
 century was dead and buried ; the old literature was gone ; the 
 struggle between it and the French influences had ended fatally 
 for both, and the vacant field was about to be occupied by 
 the romantic school and the modern novelist. But before 
 this came about a dreary period had to be gone through. 
 
 During the period of its hardy youth, Spanish literature had 
 received but scanty protection at court. Monarchs like Carlos 
 V. and Felipe II. had other matters to occupy them. With 
 the approaching decadence matters changed ; Felipe IV. was 
 not only a patron of men of letters, he went down into the 
 lists and competed with the poets of his time. The first 
 Bourbon king was an intelligent lover of letters, and, in spite 
 of his strictly French education in literary matters, he showed 
 a tolerant and even indulgent spirit to what he could not but 
 regard as a barbarous branch of art. He could not revive the 
 old creative spirit, but he could encourage the Spaniards to 
 work upon the inheritance that had come to them from the 
 past, and this he did. Already in the seventeenth century one 
 man of untiring 'devotion had spent a studious life on the 
 bibliography of his country. This was Nicolas Antonio. His 
 great work is divided into two parts, of which the former, the 
 Bibliotheca Vetus, comprises notices of all the Spanish writers 
 from the earliest times till the end of the fifteenth century. 
 The Bibliotheca Nova brings up the work to the author's own 
 time. To the student of Spanish literature Antonio's work is 
 
FROM 1700 TO WAR OF INDEPENDENCE 231 
 
 invaluable ; in careful accuracy and solid learning it stands as 
 a model for compositions of a similar character, whilst the fact 
 that it is written in Latin makes it accessible to those who are 
 unacquainted with the author's native language. 
 
 At the beginning of the eighteenth century, in imitation of 
 French institutions of a like nature, were founded the two 
 Academies — of the Language, and of History — which have 
 justified their existence by rendering signal service in the 
 departments to which they are severally devoted. In 1732 
 the Academy of the Language produced its great dictionary, 
 the Diccionario de Autoridades, as it is called — a work which has 
 done much to preserve the purity of the Spanish tongue, but 
 which is unfortunately miserably incomplete even for the period 
 which it affects to embrace. 
 
 Little had hitherto been done in the way of antiquarian 
 research ; modern authors had thrust the ancient ones into the 
 background, and, if any turned over the musty records of 
 the past, it was, unfortunately, often with the sinister design 
 of falsifying some document. In 1575 Argote de Molina, the 
 first Spaniard who deserves the name of antiquary, had pub- 
 lished at Seville a part of the works of Don Juan Manuel, but 
 the study of the older literature languished until, in the last 
 century, Sanchez published his Poetas Anteriores a I Stglo XV., 
 and Mayans y Siscar his learned and valuable Origenes de la 
 Lengua Castellana. Both Sanchez and Mayans y Siscar were 
 royal librarians ; their works are not only the earliest instances 
 of the critical treatment of old Spanish documents, but are of 
 permanent importance to all students of the subjects of which 
 they severally treat. 
 
 During the first half of the eighteenth century discussion 
 raged hotly over the Poetica of Don Ignacio Luzan, a book 
 written with the avowed object of supporting the doctrines of 
 the French classical school, and explaining the mysteries of 
 the unities to a nation sunk in darkness. Luzan was a clever 
 
232 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 man of narrow views, which caused him to exaggerate the 
 importance of his precepts. A staunch disciple of Boileau and 
 his school, he supports his views by pouring contempt on the 
 great but " incorrect " authors of his country. His contem- 
 poraries could not find answers to his arguments, but they were 
 wise enough to see that there must be something faulty in a 
 system which would exclude Cervantes and Calderon from 
 Parnassus. Thus it was that Luzan's polemic had the effect 
 of strengthening the cause it was meant to weaken. 
 
 Among the multitudinous names of second and third-rate 
 Spanish poets of the last century, it is scarcely possible 
 to select one that is worthy of mention. Those who attempt 
 to follow the old tradition lack the inspiration that atoned for 
 its artistic faults, while most of their opponents, supporters of 
 the French school, produced compositions which can scarcely 
 be rivalled for frigid insipidity. Of them Quintana (see p. 241) 
 well says, "The presses groaned and the newspapers overflowed 
 with pamphlets, satires, and epigrams, hurled at each other by 
 Spanish wits to no other purpose than the causing of well- 
 deserved contempt for art so degraded and time so wasted." 
 Even those who did not sink to this level were " careful rather 
 to avoid defects than bold and ambitious to secure beauty," 
 and thus even the best of their work has no place in a History 
 of Literature. Only very rarely do we catch something of the 
 sparkle of the old poetic fire in compositions such as the Fiesta 
 de Toros en Madrid, by Nicolas Fernandez Moratin, or in the 
 Fables of Samaniego and of Iriarte, whose obvious imitation 
 of the great Lafontaine does not entirely preclude all literary 
 merit. A proof of the poverty of the age is the reputation that 
 these poems enjoyed, and still enjoy, to such a degree that it 
 is difficult to find a Spaniard who does not know some part of 
 the Fiesta de Toros and some of the Fables by heart. The fall- 
 ing off from the best poets of the seventeenth century to Iglesias, 
 Cienfuegos, and Menendez Valdes in the eighteenth is almost 
 
FROM 1700 TO WAR OF INDEPENDENCE 2 
 
 -j j 
 
 incredible. All that can be said for the latter is that they are 
 tolerable versifiers, and did something to preserve the purity of 
 their native language. 1 
 
 The condition of the theatre in the century that succeeded 
 Lope and Calderon was truly pitiable. The old dramas were 
 neglected for bad translations, adaptations, or imitations from 
 the French ; those who affected to follow the national models 
 followed them in their faults alone. In this department, 
 however, two notable exceptions occur, and two names stand 
 out strongly from the surrounding littleness. The first is that 
 of Leandro Fernandez de Moratin, a son of the author of the 
 Fiesta de Toros en Madrid and of other short and sprightly 
 compositions in verse. Moratin the younger began life as 
 apprentice to a jeweller, but literary instincts were strong 
 within him. He wrote verses, and first brought himself into 
 notice as a successful competitor for prizes offered by the 
 Academy for compositions on set subjects. By dint of 
 powerful protection he obtained advancement both in civil and 
 ecclesiastical life, and travelled in various European countries. 
 During the French domination Moratin swam with the 
 current, and was named royal librarian by Joseph Buonaparte. 
 He left Spain with the French invaders, and spent most of 
 his later life at Paris and at Bordeaux in the company of other 
 exiled members of his party. Moratin, in spite of his foreign 
 sympathies and his want of patriotism at one of the most 
 critical periods of his country's history, was one of the first 
 to study the Spanish drama anterior to Lope de Vega, and 
 his notices of a large body of old plays are both curious and 
 valuable. His own works consist of satires, mostly on the 
 feeble literature of his time and its producers and admirers ; of 
 epigrams, written with a spirit and grace that call to mind 
 
 1 For the works of these and the other poets of the eighteenth century see 
 Poetas liricos del Siglo XVIII. , 3 vols. (Bib. Autores Espanoles), together 
 with the admirable preface by L. A. de Cueto. 
 
234 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Gongora and Quevedo ; and of plays. In the latter depart- 
 ment he deserves to rank as the most successful among 
 Spanish imitators of the French. Moliere is his model and, if 
 he cannot bear comparison with his master in brilliant wit, he 
 comes near him in careful delineation of character, and in 
 elegance and correctness of language. The most celebrated of 
 his plays is El si de las Niiias (The Ladies' Consent) written 
 in prose. Its main argument is simple. The heroine is 
 betrothed by her ambitious mother to an old man, who does 
 his best by kindness to atone for his years. But the lady's 
 affections have already been secured by a young officer, who 
 has contrived to make his passion known to her while she was 
 still being educated in a convent. The young lover, hearing 
 of her distasteful engagement, sets out hurriedly in order to 
 prevent the marriage, and overtakes the betrothed couple, 
 accompanied by the lady's mother, at an inn. His perplexity 
 is increased by the discovery that the elderly lover is his own 
 uncle, to whom he is deeply indebted for favours received. 
 After many amusing and well-studied scenes the truth dawns 
 upon the old man and, with simple generosity, he abandons 
 his pretensions in favour of his nephew. The best characters 
 in the piece are the uncle himself and the mother of the 
 lady, the hypocritical and intriguing nature of the latter 
 contrasting strongly with the old man's frankness and high 
 spirit. 
 
 The other dramatic author above alluded to is Don Ramon 
 de la Cruz, a gentleman of good family, who was born in 1731 
 and lived nearly to the end of the century. Don Ramon 
 occupied an official position, but its duties can scarcely have 
 weighed heavily upon him, for he produced about three 
 hundred dramatic pieces, and for thirty years was the favourite 
 of the Madrid stage. This popularity was thoroughly deserved. 
 In his own department Ramon de la Cruz is unrivalled. He 
 made peculiarly his own the sainetes, or short dramatised 
 
FROM 1700 TO WAR OF INDEPENDENCE 235 
 
 scenes from everyday life, without plot or regular dramatic 
 structure, and relying for their interest on the accurate repre- 
 sentation of popular types and manners. This kind of 
 composition is closely paralleled by the entremes, flaso, or baile, 
 that used to be introduced between the acts (Jornadas) in order 
 to relieve the heavier dramas of the older theatre ; but it was 
 Ramon de la Cruz who perfected it and gave it its peculiar 
 character. His sainetes present an incomparably vivid and 
 animated picture of one side of the life of Madrid as it was 
 before the French invasion, with its picturesque colouring, its 
 squalor and corruption, its light-hearted gaiety and thought- 
 lessness in the midst of national calamities. Love of pleasure 
 and the recklessness of despair seemed for a time to have 
 overshadowed the strong elements of the national character, 
 which, however, were shortly to make their power felt in the 
 heroic rising against the French, known from its date as the 
 dos de Mayo. The characters of the sainetes are all taken 
 from the low life of the city or from the middle-class citizens ; 
 their dialogue is animated and characteristic, freely sprinkled 
 with the sales or witticisms for which the Madrilenos are 
 celebrated, and with the national songs which they love so well 
 and sing with so much expression. Any incident sufficient to 
 bring a certain number of popular types into play serves to 
 form the foundation of a sainete — a street row for example, or 
 a picnic-party (merienda), or the quarrels of the inmates of a 
 lodging-house. These short farces can neither be described 
 nor translated ; either process utterly destroys the wit and 
 animation in which they abound ; away from the place of their 
 origin they are almost meaningless ; they must be read or seen 
 on the stage in Madrid, where such pieces as La Casa de 
 Tbqueme Roque or Las Castafieras Picadas will provoke as 
 much enthusiasm among the Spaniards of to-day as they did 
 a hundred years ago. The types that they represent must 
 be studied in real life in order thoroughly to appreciate the 
 
236 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 sainetes : plenty such still exist, though they have lost some- 
 thing of their picturesqueness and brilliant colouring. 
 
 One more name will bring the scanty list of important 
 writers of the eighteenth century to an end. Jose Francisco 
 Isla was a Jesuit priest of considerable celebrity on account of 
 the learning which had obtained for him chairs at more than 
 one of the Spanish universities. He was already an old man 
 when, in 1765, he was driven out of Spain, together with the 
 other members of his order, by the still unexplained decree of 
 Carlos III. He retired to Bologna, where he won the esteem 
 of all who came into communication with him, and died in 
 1781 at the age of seventy-eight. Isla possessed an intelligent 
 love of his country and a strong sense of humour. Himself 
 a preacher, he saw clearly the abject state into which pulpit 
 oratory had fallen in his country, and set himself to cure the 
 mischief by ridicule. His History of the famous Preacher Fray 
 Gerundio relates the adventures of a poor boy who is brought 
 up for the Church, and who, by concealing poverty of thought 
 under ridiculously bombastic and pedantic language, gains 
 both the reputation of a great preacher and the admiration 
 and respect of his hearers. This subject, including as it does 
 the decay of learning in all departments, and offering an 
 opportunity for sketches of various classes of society, might 
 have made a splendid book had it been treated at reason- 
 able length. But Padre Isla, like Fray Gerundio himself, is 
 long-winded and prosy, though here and there in his book 
 passages are to be found that are worthy of the pen of a 
 Cervantes or a Quevedo. The following one, which describes 
 the bringing up of Fray Gerundio and the school of oratory to 
 which he owed his fame, may be reckoned among the best : — 
 
 1 " Punto en boca, senores," exclamo Anton Zotes de repente, "ahora 
 me incurre un estupendisimo nombre que jamas se empuso a ningun 
 
 1 " 'Hold your tongues, ' exclaimed Antdn Zotes suddenly, ' a stupendous 
 name has just occurred to me, which has never been borne by any man and shall 
 
FROM 1700 TO WAR OF INDEPENDENCE 237 
 
 nacido, y se ha de impuner a mi chicote. Gerundio se ha de llamar, y no 
 se ha de llamar de otra manera, aunque me lo pidiera de rodillas el Padre 
 Santo de Roma." . . . Hizose asi ni mas ni menos, y desde luego dio el 
 nino grandes seilales de lo que havia de ser en adelante, porque antes de 
 dos anos ya llamaba pueca a su madre con mucha gracia, y decia no chero, 
 quemo, tan claramente como si fuera persona : de manera que era la 
 diversion del lugar, y todos decian que havia de ser la honra de Campazas. 
 Passando por alii un Frayle Lego, que estaba en opinion de Santo porque 
 a todos trataba de tti, llamaba bichos a las mugeres, y a la Virgen la 
 Borrega, dixo que aquel nino havia de ser Frayle, gran Letrado, y 
 estupendo Predicador ; el suceso acredito la verdad de la profecia ; 
 porque en quanto a Frayle lo fue tanto como el que mas ; lo de gran 
 Letrado, si no lo verifico en esto de tener muchas letras, a lo menos en 
 quanto a ser gordas y abultadas las que tenia ; y en lo de ser estupendo 
 Predicador, no huvo mas que desear, porque este fue el talento mas 
 sobresaliente de nuestro Gerundico, como se vera en el discurso de la 
 Historia. Aun no sabia leer y ya sabia predicar. . . . En cierta ocasion 
 estuvo en su casa a la questa del mes de Agosto un Padrecito de estos 
 atusados, con su poco de copete en el frontispicio, cuellierguido, barbi- 
 rubio, de habito limpio y plegado, zapato chusco, calzon de ante, y gran 
 cantador de jacaras a la guitarrilla. . . . Pues como supieron que predi- 
 caba en Cabrerizos el sermon de Animas, concurrieron con efecto todos a oirle 
 ... y el buen Religioso quedo tan pagado de su sermon que repitia muchas 
 
 be given to my brat ; Gerundio he shall be named and not otherwise even 
 though the Holy Father of Rome were to beg it on bended knees. ' . . . And 
 so it was, exactly, and from the very first the child gave remarkable proofs of 
 what he was destined to become, for before he was two years old he had the 
 wit to call his mother 'piggy' and used to say 'I shan't, so there,' as 
 distinctly as if he were a reasonable being : so that he was the delight of the 
 village and everybody said that he would be a credit to Campazas. There 
 chanced to come that way a lay friar who was looked upon as a saint because 
 he thee'd and thou'd everybody, called the women 'dear creatures' and the 
 Virgin ' the Ewe ' : he declared that the boy would make a friar, a great 
 man of letters and surprising preacher : events proved the truth of his 
 prophecy for, as regards being a friar, he was so as much as the best of them ; 
 as for letters, if he did not fulfil it by becoming very learned he did so at any 
 rate by the pompousness and weightiness of such as he possessed : as a 
 preacher he left nothing to be desired, for this was the greatest of all the 
 talents of our Gerundio as will be seen in the course of the story. Even 
 before he could read, he could preach. . . . On a certain occasion there 
 happened to be stopping in the house for the August offertory one of those 
 smart little Fathers with a little curl on his forehead, head erect, fair beard, 
 clean and pleated cassock, neat shoes and leather breeches, a famous singer 
 of lively ditties to the guitar. ... So when they heard that he was going to 
 preach at Cabrerizos the sermon for the souls in Purgatory, all were eager of 
 course to hear him. . . . and the good monk was so delighted with his 
 sermon that he used to declaim paragraphs of it. ' Listen to the exordium,' 
 
238 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 clausulas de el. . . . "Oiganustedescomocomenzaba" dixo la primera noche, 
 "i Fuego, fuego, fuego ! que se quema la casa : Domus mea domus orationis 
 vocabitur. Ea Sacristan toca esas retunibantes campanas : In cymbalis 
 bene sonantibus. Assi lo hace ; porque tocar a muerto y tocar a fuego es 
 una misma cosa. . . . Pero que veo ? ; Ay Christianos que se abrasan las 
 Animas de los Fieles ! Fidelium animae : y sirve de yesca a las voraces 
 llamas derretida pez : Reqniescant in pace, id est in pice, como expone 
 Vatablo ; ; Fuego de Dios, como quema ! Ignis a Deo Hiatus. Pero 
 albricias, ya baxa la Virgen del Carmen a librar a los que traxeron su 
 devoto excapulario : Scapulis suis. Dice Christo ' Favor a la justicia ' : 
 dice la Virgen ' Valgame la gracia. Ave Maria. ' ..." A todo esto estaba 
 muy atento el nino Geriindio y no le quitaba ojo al Religiose . . . Acostole 
 su madre ... y a la mafiana, luego que disperto, se puso de pies y en camisa 
 sobre la cama, y comenzo a predicar con mucha gracia el Sermon pero sin 
 atar ni desatar, y repitiendo no mas que aquellas palabras mas faciles que 
 podia pronunciar su tiernecita lengua. . . . Anton Zotes y su muger 
 quedaron aturdidos : dieronle mil besos. . . . 
 
 There is no doubt that Isla's satire was keenly felt by those 
 to whom it was addressed, A warm polemic followed, and the 
 bogey of the Inquisition, shorn by this time of most of its 
 terrors, was brought in to scare the witty Jesuit, Besides 
 Fray Geriindio, Isla wrote several other satires of less note, 
 some works of devotion, and an admirable translation of the 
 Gil Bias of Le Sage which, as he says, he wished to restore to 
 its native language. 
 
 Two other churchmen, one a Jesuit and the other a 
 
 said he the first night, ' Fire ! fire ! fire ! the house is on fire ! Domus mea 
 domus orationis vocabitur. Ho, sexton ring those echoing bells : In cymbalis 
 bene sonantibus. That's the way, for the knell for the dying and the tocsin for 
 fire are all one. . . . But what is this ? ah Christians, the souls of the faithful 
 are burning, fidelium animae: and melted pitch feeds the voracious flame : 
 7-equiescant in pace, id est in pice, as Vatablus interprets : God's fire, how it 
 burns ! ignis a Deo Hiatus : Good news, good news ! the Virgin of Carmel is 
 coming down to deliver those who have worn her scapulary with devotion : 
 scapulis suis : Christ says ' ' Help in the king's name " ; the Virgin says ' ' Heaven 
 protect me ; Ave Marfa " . . .' All this little Gerundio listened to with much 
 attention not taking his eyes off the preacher. . . . His mother put him to 
 bed . . . and next morning, on awaking he rose up in his shirt upon his 
 bed and began to preach the sermon very prettily, but without stops, or 
 breaks, and repeating only such easy words as his childish tongue could 
 pronounce. . . . Ant6n Zotes and his wife were amazed : they kissed him a 
 thousand times. ..." 
 
FROM 1700 TO WAR OF INDEPENDENCE 239 
 
 Benedictine, both of them natives of Galicia, attained con- 
 siderable reputation during the eighteenth century, but rather 
 as scholars than as men of letters. In an age more productive 
 of first-rate writers their names would probably have been 
 passed over, but Spain undoubtedly owes a good deal to 
 Father Sarmiento, whose Essays on the History of Poetry and 
 on Spanish Poets did much to bring the older literature again 
 into fashion ; also to his master, Benito Feyjoo, whose 
 lifelong efforts were devoted to an attempt to bring up the 
 level of knowledge in his own country to something like that 
 which was general throughout the rest of Europe. The vast 
 amount of subjects treated of by Feyjoo in his Teatro critico 
 and Cartas eruditas made it impossible for him to be an 
 original worker in any one department, but he had a keen 
 critical faculty, and though his work is defaced by an abominable 
 style and is of little value at the present day, to him may be 
 traced the origin of a sort of revival of learning in Spain which 
 is still going on. 
 
 Bare and scanty as is the foregoing notice of the eighteenth 
 century, it probably errs on the side of excessive length if the 
 relative merit of writers is to be taken as the standard of the 
 space they should occupy in a History of Literature. Not only 
 are the majority of the works themselves worthless, but they 
 form, as it were, a useless continuation of a departed period 
 without serving to bridge over the gulf that separates the old 
 Spanish school from the new. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE FIRST HALF OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 
 
 The nineteenth century dawned darkly for Spain : to those 
 who could look back two hundred years and compare the 
 Spain of their own day with the Spain of Philip the Second, 
 the prospect must have been dismal indeed. The foreigners 
 held the land in an iron grip, and the men who ought to have 
 been the leaders of the people in the gallant struggle for 
 liberty that was shortly to break out, were, for the most part, 
 the first to accept the bondage that had been laid upon their 
 country, and to decry their national institutions and deride 
 their national history in a real or affected admiration for its 
 oppressors. The influence of the French Revolution was 
 everywhere felt, and it combined with selfishness to drown the 
 voice of patriotism among the upper classes in'Spain. But the 
 heart of the people remained true, and never for an instant 
 lost sight of the national independence which it held so 
 dear. 
 
 A great war and mighty revolution passed over the country, 
 and when the air cleared again Spain found herself dragged 
 from the middle age in which she had lingered into the full 
 blaze of nineteenth century life. The gallant struggle against 
 the French in which every province joined did much to 
 increase the feeling of Spanish unity, and old feuds and 
 jealousies were forgotten. The renewed national life bore 
 
THE FIRST HALF OF THE XIX. CENTURY 241 
 
 fruit in fresh activity in every direction, and in literature, as 
 well as in politics, Spain began slowly but surely to win back 
 her position among the nations. 
 
 The struggle between the Classical and Romantic schools 
 which was fought out in Europe at the beginning of the present 
 century has left its traces in Spain. The strongest growths of 
 Spanish literature had had a popular origin \ the modern 
 classical spirit penetrated the country only with the French 
 influence, and was never accepted by the general body. Its 
 .productions are many, but are of little note, for classicism in 
 Spain was but the imitation of an imitation. It is a curious 
 fact that some of the most stirring verses addressed to the 
 people at the time of their struggle for independence are 
 written in this essentially unnational and artificial style. It 
 cannot be denied that those who roused the Spaniards to 
 throw off the yoke were those who had imbibed the ideas of 
 their oppressors rather than those who clung to the old 
 Catholic and monarchical traditions. 
 
 Among such must be noted Manuel Jose Quintana, a friend 
 and pupil of the patriot Jovellanos, himself a poet and an 
 orator of no mean order. Quintana drew his inspiration from 
 the events of his own day, or from such recollections of the 
 past as would make his countrymen less tolerant of their 
 dependent condition. His odes To the Sea, To the Invention of 
 Printing, To the Rising of the Spanish Provinces against the 
 French, and To Guzman the Good, are full of spirit, and in 
 spite of their widely different subject, may be compared in 
 tone to the finest poems of Herrera. The liberal ideas of his 
 day never for a moment weakened the strong national feeling 
 in the heart of this truly patriotic Spaniard. Quintana wrote, 
 moreover, in the classic style two tragedies on national subjects 
 which never attained any popularity, as well as a collection of 
 graphic and well-told Lives of Celebrated Spaniards and Selections 
 from the Spanish Poets, with admirable short critical prefaces. 
 
 R 
 
242 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 The list of the classical poets of the earlier part of the 
 present century includes several other names of second-rate 
 importance. These men departed from the literary traditions 
 of their country, and, possessing but little individuality, their 
 works .lost even the small interest which they for a time pos- 
 sessed, when the reaction began in favour of the school which 
 had produced all the great works of which Spain can boast. 
 
 Martinez de la Rosa is the author of a frigid satire el 
 Cementerio de Momo ; of a most artistically composed but 
 hollow-sounding endecha, or lament, addressed to the Duke of 
 Frias on the death of his wife ; and of several plays of some 
 merit. Alberto Lista, a weaver of Seville, who became Pro- 
 fessor of Mathematics, wrote a fine poem on the Death of Jesus , 
 which has something of the inspiration and delicacy of Luis 
 de Leon. Juan Nicasio Gallego, a priest and a chauvinist, 
 drew genuine inspiration for his verses from the rising against 
 the French in Madrid, known as the dos de Mayo y and from the 
 defeat of the English at Buenos Ayres in 1807. 
 
 The Romantic school produced two poets of vastly greater 
 importance than those above mentioned. These are the Duke 
 of Rivas and Espronceda. The former was a nobleman ot 
 enlightened views and cultivated tastes. His early writings 
 bear traces of the classical traditions amidst which he had 
 been brought up. Carried away, however, by the current 
 which was setting strongly towards Romanticism throughout 
 Europe, he produced a long and rambling poem with epic 
 pretensions, to which he gave the name of Moro expbsito b 
 Cordoba y Burgos en el Siglo X. A few fine passages were 
 not enough to save it from speedy oblivion, and the author's 
 best title to fame lies in his ballads, which are really successful 
 imitations of old models, and in his Don Alvaro, a tragedy of 
 the most harrowing kind, full of the bloodshed and gloomy 
 passion which excited the admiration of a past generation, but 
 which would now be laughed off a French or English stage. 
 
THE FIRST HALF OF THE XIX. CENTURY 243 
 
 Don__Jose^_de Espronce da is u ndoubtedly the greatest 
 Spanish poet of the present century : thus much can be 
 gathered from the fragments which form the larger part of his 
 wc * —fragments which would probably have remained in- 
 complete even had their author not been carried off by an 
 early death. Espronceda was the son of a Spanish colonel, 
 and was born in Extremadura. On going to Madrid to com- 
 plete his studies he threw himself with all the eagerness of an 
 impassioned nature into the revolutionary schemes which were 
 then to the fore. His violent and open opposition to the 
 existing order brought upon him a decree of banishment, and 
 he left his country to seek his fortunes abroad. A character- 
 istic anecdote is told of his journey into exile. On approaching 
 Lisbon he threw away the last coin he possessed, " so as not to 
 enter so great a city with so little money." He found his way 
 to London, where for some time he lived a miserable and pre- 
 carious life, keeping up his communications with the revolu- 
 tionaries in his own country and elsewhere. The revolution of 
 1830 in Paris found him fighting on the barricades and taking 
 a prominent part in what he believed to be the cause of liberty. 
 The general amnesty brought him back to Spain, where his 
 genius was now recognised ; he obtained important preferment 
 under Government, and contributed stirring articles to the 
 newspapers. He died in 1842, aged only thirty-two, but worn 
 out by his feverish temperament, strong passions, and the 
 hardships he had endured. 
 
 Very early in life his sensitive and passionate temperament 
 found its natural expression in poetry, and he commenced an 
 epic, taking for its subject Pelayo, the earliest hero of the re- 
 conquest. The fragments that are preserved are very uneven 
 in merit, but give ample proof of great talent and real inspira- 
 tion, the defects being those of youth and inexperience. 
 During his residence in England it was inevitable that he 
 should come under the influence of Byron, which was at that 
 
244 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 time supreme. The two poets possessed many qualities in 
 common, especially a morbid selfishness and a restlessness not 
 unconnected with ambition. The younger henceforth affected, 
 even when he did not feel, the defects as well as the merits of 
 his master. Espronceda's verse is an accurate reflection of 
 his life and character, full of gloomy fire, of passions too great 
 to be satisfied with vulgar debauchery, and of impossible ideals. 
 As a sceptic and revolutionary he has little that is character- 
 istically Spanish, but he turned the sonorous grandeur of his 
 native language to good account in portraying the sombre 
 self-consciousness and superhuman adventures of men of the 
 Byronic world. His Estudiante de Salamanca, Don Felix de 
 Montemar, is a Don Juan in slightly altered circumstances ; a 
 man with passions unchecked by religious belief or scruples of 
 honour, and with the same undaunted courage in face of the 
 supernatural world. The first part of the poem is powerfully 
 written, and, in spite of the villainous character, we cannot 
 help feeling some sympathy for the very recklessness of the hero 
 whose superhuman wickedness must inevitably bring him to a 
 hideous end. But, when Don Felix falls in with the ghostly 
 being who, disguised as a lady, draws him on to his fate, the 
 horror is too long drawn out ; the warnings are too many for 
 a human being to resist ; the poet's imagination runs riot ; 
 what is meant to be awful becomes merely fantastic ; and the 
 catastrophe, when it does come, brings with it a sense of relief, 
 and is not to be compared for simplicity and power with that 
 of its prototype, The Mocker of Seville. - . - — 
 
 The second of Espronceda's longer pieces is incomplete. 
 In the Diablo Mundo the poet, as he himself tells us, set him- 
 self the task of resolving the problem of human life from the 
 sceptic's point of view. It is scarcely to be wondered at that 
 the undertaking appalled him, and that he abandoned it after 
 writing a few cantos, some of which have apparently no con- 
 nection with the subject. The plan of this remarkable poem, 
 
THE FIRST HALF OF THE XIX. CENTURY 245 
 
 so far as we can judge of it by the fragment, seems to have 
 been taken from Faust. The principal personage is restored 
 fro old age to youth, and enters on his new life with some of 
 t) . feelings and tendencies peculiar to either age. The execu- 
 tion is very uneven, and most of the fine passages seem to be 
 introduced at haphazard, and to be inspired by the authors 
 whom Espronceda may have been reading at the time. Some 
 of the reflections on human life are sublime, as are also the 
 Song of Life and the Song of Death, which seem to have 
 caught something of the inspiration of Calderon's autos sacra- 
 ment ales. 
 
 Among the shorter pieces notable specimens of Espronceda's 
 power of description and expression may be found in The 
 Beggar (El Mendigo) and The Executioner (El Verdugo), 
 subjects chosen for the sake of their grotesque and repulsive 
 character, which undoubtedly attracted Espronceda's morbid 
 temperament. Their treatment would satisfy a " naturalist " of 
 the modern French school. The Serenade to Elisa is tender, 
 dignified, and harmonious, even beyond the wont of Spanish 
 verse. The ode To Jarifa expresses finely the disgust pro- 
 duced in a really noble mind by the orgy into which it has 
 allowed itself to be drawn, but it is not without a tinge of the 
 loathing produced by satiety. Those entitled To my Country 
 (A la Patrid) and To the 2 fid of May [A I dos de Mayo) breathe 
 the fiery patriotism of their author. From the former are 
 extracted the following verses : — 
 
 1 ; Cuan solitaria la nation que un di'a 
 Poblara inmensa gente ! 
 ; La nation cuyo imperio se extendia 
 Del ocaso al oriente ! 
 Lagrimas viertes, infeliz ahora, 
 Soberana del mundo ; 
 
 1 ' ' How forlorn is now the nation that was once — thronged with innumerable 
 folk ! — The nation whose empire spread — from the setting to the rising sun ! 
 — Thy tears flow fast, unhappy now, — once sovereign of the world ; — will no 
 
246 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 ; Y nadie de tu faz encantadora 
 Borra el dolor profundo ! 
 
 • • • • • 
 
 Tendio sus brazos la agitada Espana 
 
 Sus hijos implorando ; 
 
 Sus hijos fueron, mas traidora sana 
 
 Desbarato su bando. 
 
 i Que se hicieron tus muros torreados ? 
 
 i Oh mi patria querida ! 
 
 I Donde fueron tus heroes esforzados, 
 
 Tu espada no vencida ? 
 
 Un tiempo Espana fue ; cien heroes fueron 
 
 En tiempos de ventura, 
 
 Y las naciones timidas la vieron 
 Vistosa en hermosura. 
 
 • • • • • 
 
 Mas ora, como piedra en el desierto, 
 Yaces desamparada, 
 
 Y el justo desgraciado vaga incierto 
 Alia en tierra apartada. 
 
 • • ■ • • 
 
 Desterrados j oh Dios ! de nuestros lares 
 Lloremos duelo tanto : 
 I Quien calmara i oh Espana ! tus pesares ? 
 I Quien secara tu llanto ? 
 
 The Spaniards have contributed but little to modern philo- 
 sophy. Their theologians have always enjoyed a deservedly 
 high reputation, but in other departments of thought their 
 development has certainly been checked both by the tradition 
 of rigid and unquestioning orthodoxy, which is so dear to " the 
 most Catholic nation," and by the objective character of their 
 minds. This latter peculiarity is noticeable throughout their 
 
 one from thy beauteous face — blot out the woe profound ? — Distracted Spain 
 stretched out her arms — calling upon her sons for help : — her sons they were, 
 but traitor's hate — dispersed the band, — Where are thy battlemented walls, — 
 sweet fatherland ? — Whither are gone thy valiant sons, — and thy unconquered 
 sword ? — Once Spain was Spain : a hundred heroes had she — in happy days, 
 — and nations with affright beheld her — glorious and beautiful — Now like a 
 rock in the wilderness — thou liest all forlorn,— thy patriots wander full of 
 gloom — in foreign lands afar. — Exiled, oh God ! from our own hearths — our 
 grief and tears must flow: — who shall assuage, oh Spain, thy woes, — and who 
 shall dry thine eyes ? " 
 
THE FIRST HALF OF THE XIX. CENTURY 247 
 
 literature, and leads them to express all -profound thought in) f' 
 thp concrete form of metaphors. ' 
 
 Two Spaniards have, during the present century, entered the 
 lists of religious controversy as champions of orthodoxy, and have 
 thereby won a high reputation in their native country. The first 
 of these is the famous Don Jaime Balmes, whose Cartas a u?i 
 Esc'eptico (Letters to a Sceptic), according to the verdict of a 
 recent Spanish writer, "bring within the grasp of the most 
 limited intelligence the loftiest truths of religion." His Pro- 
 testantism cofnpared with Catholicism is supposed by his 
 countrymen to have set the question of which it treats at rest 
 for ever. 
 
 Contemporary with Balmes was Don Juan Donoso Cortes, 
 whose important political service in troubled times raised him 
 from the chair of literature in the University of Caceres to the 
 post of ambassador in Paris, with the title of Marques de 
 Valdegamas. His most celebrated work, An Essay upon 
 Catholicism, Liberalism, and Socialism, is dogmatic rather than 
 controversial ; it is, in fact, a statement of the author's own 
 ideas in somewhat pompous terms, with a haughty disregard 
 for all other opinions. 
 
 The revival that took place after the War of Independence 
 has produced good results, and Spain in spite of her compara- 
 tively small reading public can challenge comparison in one or 
 two departments of literature with other European nations. Only 
 a generation ago the most cultivated of the Spaniards looked 
 to foreigners to supply them with books, while the multitude 
 was satisfied with bad translations of the worst class of French 
 works. South America now lies open as a great field to Spanish 
 authors, and every day the demand for good literature increases 
 at home. The old bad feeling of Spanish exclusiveness and the \ 
 detestation qf things foreign, which took the name of patriotism, ^ 
 are wearing off; the regret of a past that can never be repeated 
 no longer prevents a hopeful looking forward to the future. / 
 
24S - SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 \ 
 
 The novel in Spain, as elsewhere, is the most vigorous 
 
 J j of modern literary growths. The picaro of the sixteenth and 
 seventeenth centuries became at last a prosy moralist of third- 
 rate order, and then disappeared to make room for the sickly 
 sentimental gallants and ladies of the last century. These too 
 died of inanition and left the field free for something more 
 adapted to modern times, and something more natural than the 
 shepherds and shepherdesses of a former age. 
 
 The first who made the modern novel popular, and gave 
 the impulse which was destined to result in works worthy to be 
 compared with those of the great days of Spain, was Cecilia 
 Boehl de Faber, a lady of German descent, born at the end of 
 the last century and widely known under the assumed name of 
 Fernan Caballero. She was married successively to three 
 Spanish husbands, and thoroughly identified herself with the 
 country of her adoption. In her literary work she made use 
 of the improved methods with which she had become familiar 
 in the course of a German education. At court she enjoyed 
 favour as the champion of the Neo-Catholic movement. Her 
 works consist mainly of short stories and sketches from Spanish 
 life, drawn with great accuracy and true appreciation of the 
 picturesque, and told in idiomatic and unaffected language. Her 
 moral aim is high, and she was bold enough to openly attack 
 some of the most cherished national institutions, not excepting 
 the bull -fights. But her love of Spain, its traditions and 
 scenery, its strongly marked characteristics and robust beliefs, 
 is so evident that her foreign parentage has been forgotten, and 
 the Spaniards proudly count her as one of themselves. Forty 
 years have changed the form and character of the novel, 
 and Fernan Caballero's work now appears somewhat old- 
 fashioned and tame to those who are steeped in the 
 modern French fiction. But it will ever remain popular 
 with those whose tastes have not been corrupted by a 
 stronger food, and who consider that delicacy of thought 
 
THE FIRST HALF OF THE XIX. CENTURY 249 
 
 and language and a high moral tone are appreciable merits 
 in a story. 
 
 Somewhat similar to Fernan Caballero in method and in 
 aim is Don Telesforo Trueba y Cossio, an Asturian who 
 emigrated to England in 1823 and there wrote the greater 
 part of his works, in which the influence of Sir Walter Scott is 
 everywhere apparent. Trueba's vivid imagination enabled him 
 in his Spanish Tales to bring up before his eyes the typical 
 representatives of the country which in his exile he loved so 
 well. He is not in any sense a great writer, but, aided by 
 abundance of material of an attractive kind, and a true 
 appreciation of the way in which it should be utilised, he has 
 left behind him a collection of stories which well deserve 
 the popularity which it enjoys. From Fernan Caballero the 
 Spaniards learned that a simple well-executed sketch from 
 nature is more valuable than an elaborate copy : from her and 
 from Trueba they learned that it was not necessary to go out- 
 side their own country for interesting material. 
 
 Among writers of short stories and magazine articles on 
 the national manners and customs, or on events of the day, 
 three names deserve special mention. The first of these is 
 that of Don Mariano Larra, who committed suicide in 1837 
 at the age of twenty-eight. His articles on political and literary 
 subjects give proof of profound observation and keen wit ; they 
 are, however, in some degree spoiled by a bitter and cynical 
 tone which, coupled with the author's idiomatic and somewhat 
 harsh style, reminds us of Quevedo, whom he probably took 
 for his model. He wrote under the names of Figaro and Un 
 pobrecito Hablador. 
 
 A writer of somewhat similar character to the foregoing, 
 though otherwise marked by strong idiosyncrasies, is Don 
 Serafin Estebafiez Calderon, an Andalusian gentleman who 
 played a considerable part in the politics of the troubled times 
 in which he lived. He was a great admirer of the old-fashioned 
 
250 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Spain, which in his time was rapidly passing away, and a 
 vigorous opponent of foreign influences and what he considered 
 to be new-fangled ideas. His Escenas Andaluzas have been 
 often quoted as models of pure Spanish prose, free from the 
 bastard words and expressions which bad translations from the 
 French had brought into the language. Undoubtedly he is 
 deserving of credit for having headed the reaction in favour of 
 pure Spanish, but his works can scarcely be considered as models 
 of the kind. In the attempt to be idiomatic his style becomes 
 strained and unnatural, and he abuses the extensive vocabulary 
 of his native tongue, making use by choice of archaic, 
 provincial, or little-used words. The memory of Estebanez 
 Calderon owes much to his distinguished kinsman Don Antonio 
 Canovas del Castillo, the present Prime Minister of Spain, 
 who wrote his biography under the title of El Solitario y 
 su Tiemfio, making it the vehicle ,for the expression of his 
 own straightforward and manly views on many subjects both 
 political and literary. 
 
 More truly popular and more elegant than either of the two 
 above-mentioned writers is Mesonero Romanos {El Curioso 
 Parlante). He was a native of Madrid ; his birthplace inspired 
 in him the same affection as it did in Ram6n de la Cruz, and 
 he turned to equally good use an extensive and sympathetic 
 acquaintance with his fellow-townsmen. His Escenas Matri- 
 tenses are charming sketches of manners and of popular types, 
 some of which were rapidly losing their strongly marked char- 
 acteristics even when the book was written. His language, pure, 
 idiomatic, and graceful, is unspoiled by the mannerisms and 
 affectation of Calderon. His name is still held in affectionate 
 esteem in the city he loved and described so well in El antiguo 
 Madrid. Both in form and matter he is one of the most 
 thoroughly agreeable of modern Spanish authors. 
 
 Together with Mesonero Romanos, though belonging by his 
 date to the next chapter, must be mentioned Gustavo Becquer, 
 
THE FIRST HALF OF THE XIX. CENTURY 251 
 
 who, at his early death, left behind him a collection of Legends 
 of uneven merit, some of them founded on popular stories, 
 others derived entirely from the author's passionate and romantic 
 imagination. When he treats of Spanish subjects as in la Rosa 
 de la Fasion, Maese Ferez el Organista, and el Cristo de la Vega, 
 Becquer is almost always successful ; but he is less so in stories 
 such as Ojos Verdes, in which he attempts to reproduce the 
 weirdness and melancholy peculiar to Scandinavian or Celtic 
 stories. Becquer at his best is extremely good, but the 
 necessities of a continual struggle with poverty compelled him 
 to publish much that his reason and taste must have condemned. 
 Some of his verses are beautiful and full of pathos ; the 
 following recalls certain passages of Alfred de Musset's im- 
 passioned lines, or Espronceda's longings after the ideal : — 
 
 1 Yo soy ardiente, yo soy morena, 
 Yo soy el sfmbolo de la pasion, 
 De ansia de goces mi alma esta llena 
 — I A mi me buscas ? — No es a ti : no. 
 
 — Mi frente es palida : mis trenzas de oro : 
 
 Puedo brindarte dichas sin fin ; 
 
 Yo de ternura guardo un tesoro. 
 
 — I A mi me llamas ? — No : no es a ti. 
 
 — Yo soy un sueno, un imposible, 
 
 Vano fantasma de niebla y luz : 
 
 Soy incorporea, soy intangible : 
 
 No puedo amarte. — j Oh, ven ; ven tii ! 
 
 1 " ' Fervid and dark-haired am I, — the very type of passion, — my soul is 
 overflowing with longing for delights. — Is it me thou seekest?' — 'No, not 
 thee.' — ' My forehead is pale : my tresses of gold : — I can offer thee unending 
 bliss ; — my heart is a well of tenderness. — Is it me thou callest?' — ' No, it is 
 not thee ' — ' I am a dream, impossible, — a phantom vain of mist and light : 
 — bodiless, intangible, — I cannot love thee,' — ' Oh come, come thou.' " 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 CONTEMPORARY LITERATURE 
 
 The following notices of contemporary authors, most of whom 
 are still alive, will for obvious reasons be very brief, intended 
 rather to direct a course of reading than to criticise. The 
 series opens with a really great writer, Juan Valera, poet, critic, 
 and novelist. It is more especially in the latter direction that 
 Valera has developed his great talents. His Pepita Jimenez is 
 worthy of a place among the best novels of the century. 
 Whether regarded as a study of character, or as a study of 
 manners, or from the point of view of style, it is equally 
 admirable. It combines all the passion of the South with the 
 most delicate and refined taste, and might serve as a text from 
 which to prove that, in the hands of really great writers, 
 nothing is coarse or unclean. It has been well rendered into 
 English, but must lose greatly by translation, for, since the time 
 of the mystic writers of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries 
 who served as his models, nobody has handled the most 
 beautiful of living languages with the same unaffected grace as 
 Valera. The reputation established by Pepita Jime?iez is well 
 sustained by Doiia Luz, El Comendador Mendoza, and other 
 stories. Of Valera's poems the chief merit is grace and cor- 
 rectness. His essays show wide sympathies and an eclectic 
 taste which, combined with what Morel-Fatio so happily calls 
 his " fine scepticism," have more than once brought their author 
 
CONTEMPORARY LITERATURE 253 
 
 into difficulties with the champions of narrower national and 
 religious sentiments. 
 
 Perez Galdos enjoys a wide reputation earned by his 
 Episodios Nacionales, careful and doubtless accurate studies of 
 the feelings and views that have prevailed at different epochs 
 of Spain's stormy history during the last hundred years. 
 From them his countrymen may derive much political teaching 
 that may be useful for the future ; but the stories themselves 
 lack dramatic interest ; a certain sameness pervades the whole 
 series, making them dull reading to such as are not thoroughly 
 familiar with the country and the intricate party organisation 
 of the periods of which they treat. Galdos' style is pure with- 
 out pretensions to brilliancy ; but he would probably find more 
 readers if he would descend to the level of those who consider 
 that a plot is an essential part of the novel. 
 
 Pedro Alarcdn followed the Spanish expeditionary forces in 
 their brilliant campaign in Morocco, and wrote a good descrip- 
 tion of the expedition and of the country through which it 
 passed. He is also a poet and critic of no small merit, but his 
 reputation would not stand so high as it does were it not for 
 his novels. Of these the most remarkable is the Sombrero de 
 Trcs Eicos, a charmingly quaint and graceful sketch of old- 
 fashioned village life which in subject as well as in treatment 
 forms a marked contrast with his sensational stories such as 
 El Escdndalo or La Prbdiga. In his longer works Alarc6n 
 loses most of the charm that pervades his Historietas Nacionales^ 
 Narraciones Lnverosi?niles, and Viages por Espafia. 
 
 Pereda is a native of Santander ; he has a deep love and 
 appreciation of the character and peculiarities of his fellow- 
 countrymen whom he so successfully portrays in his works. 
 Sotilezas, his most famous book, is a powerful picture of life 
 amongst the fisher-folk of the northern town before it became 
 a great industrial centre. The characters are sharply defined 
 and well drawn, but the plot, like others by the same hand, is 
 
254 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 somewhat melodramatic. In Sotilezas, as elsewhere, Pereda 
 writes a great deal of his dialogue in dialect. A less preten- 
 tious and more successful story, though not possessing the same 
 perfection of detail, is Don Gonzalo Gonzalez ; in it, however, 
 the principal person comes dangerously near caricature. 
 
 Emilia Pardo Bazan enjoys the distinction of being one of 
 the very few distinguished authoresses of her country, and of 
 possessing an education and breadth of view that are rare among 
 Spaniards even of the other sex. She is a native of Galicia and, 
 like its other celebrated children, she is enthusiastic in her 
 affection for her native province. Its men and manners, its 
 scenery and life, are the themes of her works, and all who read 
 the Pazos de Ulloa and the Madre Naturalza will feel himself 
 brought into sympathy with their authoress's point of view. 
 Her articles on the social and intellectual condition of her 
 country are valuable both as authorities for the existing con- 
 dition of things, and as guides for the direction in which the 
 desired improvements may be carried out. Patriotic feeling, 
 which she possesses in a marked degree, does not blind this 
 gifted authoress to the faults of her countrymen and to the 
 backward state of her country. She belongs to the liberal party 
 whose head is the great orator Castelar, himself a novelist, and 
 author of a pretty Italian story in the style of George Eliot's 
 Romola entitled La Hermana de la Caridad. 
 
 The position of Armando Palacio Valdes with regard to the 
 contemporary literature of his country is as yet undecided. 
 His Her?nana San Sulpiao, published four years ago, is a work 
 of great merit, thoroughly Spanish in tone, well executed, and 
 containing some very clever character-drawing. It was greatly 
 admired both in Spain and abroad, and much was expected 
 from its author. A great disappointment, however, awaited his 
 many friends. In La Espuma (Foam), published in 1890, he 
 shows a decided leaning to the French "naturalistic" school, and 
 wilfully introduces repulsive or indecent scenes and incidents 
 
CONTEMPORARY LITERATURE 255 
 
 which, though powerfully drawn, add nothing to the merit 
 of his story, and sometimes have no bearing whatever on its 
 main action. If in this respect he will take his country- 
 man Valera for a model, he will secure the admiration and 
 respect of a larger class of readers without finding himself 
 restricted as to subject or treatment. 
 
 In 1890 appeared Pcqumeces by the Padre Luis Coloma of 
 the Society of Jesus. The book is, according to the disposition 
 of the reader, either a brilliant satire or a bitter attack on 
 Madrid society. It is held together by the mere shadow 
 of a plot or psychological study. Pequefieces together with a 
 collection of short stories of the nature of tracts, published at 
 various times in religious periodicals, form the literary stock of 
 this writer, who during the last two years has occupied a large 
 share of public attention in Spain. The Padre Coloma's view 
 of life, so far as it may be inferred from these works, is of the 
 one-sided and narrow character to be expected from one who 
 has studied his fellow-men chiefly in the confessional. His 
 want of faith in human nature almost amounts to a cynicism 
 which must be far from natural to him who created el tio 
 Pellejo. The fact that his lash produced a smart is proved by 
 the amount of controversy his somewhat crude religious novel 
 has created. Valera himself came forward to reply to his 
 strictures. Coloma's ideas, or perhaps we should say the ideas 
 that Coloma attempts to propagate, — for we cannot quite 
 believe that a man of his undoubted talents has allowed a 
 gyaarrowing early education so completely to restrict his private 
 views, — are those of the extreme ultramontane party, and must, 
 in some respects, be characterised as bigoted to a degree that is 
 now happily rare in his country and among his class. Years 
 and experience will probably produce a more hopeful and 
 tolerant spirit, and then the writings of the witty Jesuit will 
 appeal to a more intelligent class, and, instead of repelling, may 
 attract those whom he wishes to influence. For the present 
 
256 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 his teaching may be summed up in the words of the Spanish 
 proverb "la ocasibfi hace al ladron" (opportunity makes the 
 thief), and he would have us believe that there is no salvation 
 outside his own narrow fold. 
 
 The present century has produced no great Spanish historian. 
 The work of Don Modesto Lafuente is painstaking and 
 accurate, but possesses none of the elements that go to make a 
 great book of lasting value. While the general historian is still 
 wanting, an immense amount of valuable work is being done 
 among the archives and the history of particular periods. When 
 at last something like a final history of Spain is written, its author 
 will owe a great debt of gratitude to writers like the jurist Don 
 Francisco de Cardenas, the historian and critic Marcelino 
 Menendez y Pelayo, and the statesman Canovas del Castillo, 
 who brought up the history of the House of Austria to the 
 degree of perfection allowed by the documents known at the 
 period when he wrote. In the great archives of Simancas and 
 in local records a great field lies open for historical enterprise, 
 and the Spaniards, headed by such men as the learned Jesuit 
 Fidel Fita and the members of the Academy of History, are 
 not slow to take advantage of it. 
 
 As scholar, critic, historian, philologist, and biographer, the 
 name of Pascual de Gayangos is held in affectionate respect by 
 all those who during the last fifty years have interested them- 
 selves in the history and literature of his mother-country. A 
 long chapter would be occupied by the mere enumeration of 
 the signal services rendered by this most learned, unselfish, 
 and modest of workers in each of these departments. From 
 Prescott and Ticknor to Watts, all English students of Spanish 
 have acknowledged their obligation to his immense fund of 
 knowledge and ever-ready kindness. In spite of his advanced 
 age Don Pascual is still one of the most distinguished living 
 orientalists, as is proved by his History of the Arabs in Spain, 
 Vocabulary of the Arabic Words in Spanish, and his great 
 
CONTEMPORARY LITERATURE 257 
 
 Catalogue of Spanish MSS. in the British Museum. He con- 
 tributed largely to the great edition of the Spanish classics 
 published by Rivadeneyra under the name of the Biblioteca de 
 Autores Espaiioles ; he published in Spanish an amended edition 
 of Ticknor's great work on Spanish literature, and has edited 
 several valuable works in the Spanish Old Text Society (Biblib- 
 filos Espaiioles). Side by side with Gayangos for thoroughness 
 of method and disinterested love of knowledge may be classed 
 Marcelino Menendez y Pelayo, the author of a History of 
 Heterodoxy in Spain and of a History of Aesthetic Ideas in Spain, 
 the latter work still unfinished, possibly on account of its 
 author's early promotion to a high position among the leaders 
 of the conservative and traditional party which includes much 
 of what is best in modern Spain. 
 
 Of contemporary Spanish poets Nunez de Arce is probably 
 the one who gives proof of the most genuine inspiration. 
 Less prodigal of his talents than his brethren, his works main- 
 tain a more even standard of excellence. They consist of a 
 collection of lyrics, several dramas, and some short poems. 
 Nunez de Arce is a man of action as well as a poet. His 
 verses as well as his public conduct have played no small part 
 in piloting his native land through the troubles of the last fifty 
 years. The watchword of his life has been ever Liberty, and 
 for liberty he has fought, holding revolutionary license no less 
 in abhorrence than tyranny. With regard to the present age 
 he is a pessimist, regarding it merely as a painful state of 
 transition, but looking forward to a time when the problems 
 which now vex humanity shall be solved, and the destructive 
 tendency of modern philosophy shall be replaced by a faith 
 founded on a higher knowledge. He hates the sneering spirit 
 that has deprived the world of so much that was beautiful in 
 itself and good in its results ; he is inclined to think that the 
 price we have paid for our present enlightenment is too high a 
 one. The restless and revolutionary spirit of the times he 
 
 s 
 
258 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 attributes to the diffusion of dangerous knowledge calculated to 
 destroy the existing sanctions of morality. To his lyrics he has 
 given the expressive title of Gritos del Combate (The Shouts of 
 Battle), and such indeed they are, wrung from their author by 
 the agony of his country's dangers and addressed to his fellow- 
 workers in the cause which he had made his own. Nunez de 
 Arce is no poetic dreamer : he saw that his country offered no 
 soil on which an exotic republic could flourish, and he declared 
 himself a monarchist, preferring even Amadeo's necessarily weak 
 government to the incessant struggle of interested ambition for 
 the first place. With the accession of Don Alfonso the struggle 
 ceased, and with it the Gritos del Co??ibate. Since that time the 
 poetic muse has taken a gentler form and appeals to a different 
 set of feelings, occupied rather in social and philosophical than 
 in poetical matters. Remarkable among the short poems are 
 the Vision de Fray Mart'm and Raymondo Lull. In the former 
 the story of Lully's conversion (see p. 57) is treated as an 
 allegory of the reckless pursuit after knowledge and of its bitter 
 fruits. Fray Martin is Luther who, seduced by the doubting 
 spirit to which Nunez de Arce attributes so much evil, drags 
 down in his own ruin the whole fabric of the Church. These 
 allegories are skilfully and vigorously handled, and even those 
 who are not in sympathy with their teaching cannot fail to be 
 influenced by their powerful imagery and striking thoughts. 
 Speaking of the hereafter the poet says — 
 
 1 1 Quien interroga a los sepulcros ? Nadie 
 Sabra jamas lo que en su abismo encierran y 
 
 I Es la vida ? i Es la muerte ? 1 Es el principiq/ 
 I Es el fin ? 1 Es la nada ? . . . j Eterno enigma ! — 
 ; Este es el mundo ! El vertigo en su altura ; 
 Abajo la bullente podedumbre, 
 Y en el altar la sombra . . . 
 
 1 ' ' Who gets an answer from the grave ? — No man will ever know what its 
 depths enclose — Is it life ? Is it death ? Is it the beginning ? — Is it the end ? 
 Is it nonentity ? Eternal riddle ! — Such is the universe ! Above is the giddy 
 height ; — below is seething rottenness, — and a shadow on the altar. . . ." 
 
CONTEMPORARY LITERATURE 259 
 
 The simple love-story that bears the name of An Idyll has 
 been compared to Evangeline and Mireio ; a more apt com- 
 parison would be that with Paul and Virginia^ but the Spanish 
 poet's conception of love is purer than that of the French priest, 
 while his local colouring is none the less vivid. One of the most 
 beautiful passages in the Idilio is a description of the scenery 
 of Castile, which brings out all the poetry of its brown plains 
 as seen by an artist who loved them as his home. The Short 
 Eoems are written in harmonious and finished verse, and appeal 
 strongly to the higher and nobler feelings, but it is probably in 
 his Gritos del Combate that Nunez de Arce will live. Even in 
 the present time of peace, when their echo seems to come from 
 afar off, they cannot fail to stir deeply every Spanish heart. 
 Should their fame, however, not prove enduring, their influence 
 on contemporary thought is enough to justify the existence of 
 poets in the nineteenth century. The dramas, of which the 
 most interesting is the Haz de Lefia (Bundle of Fire-wood) 
 founded on the same story as Schiller's Don Carlos^ are well 
 written without being remarkable ; they may be fairly said to 
 fulfil their author's intention as expressed in the words, " I have 
 attempted to be classical without becoming a prey to man- 
 nerism, romantic yet free from monstrosity, realistic without 
 provoking disgust ; but above all I have attempted clearness 
 and sincerity in matter and in form." 
 
 Don Jose Zorrilla became, after the death of Espronceda, 
 the chief representative of the Romantic school of poetry in 
 Spain. Endowed with some poetic gifts, he abused more than 
 any of his contemporaries an extraordinary facility for the pro- 
 duction of second-rate verse. The following anecdote serves 
 to show the mechanical and commercial uses to which he 
 applied his real talents, as well as to illustrate the position of 
 literary men in his country. When Zorrilla's reputation as a 
 poet was at its height, it happened that a speculative firm of 
 booksellers at Barcelona bought up some of the worn plates of 
 
260 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Dore's illustrations to Tennyson's Idylls of the King. Zorrilla 
 accepted from this firm a commission to write poems on 
 national subjects to suit the illustrations, and thus give the 
 purchasers an opportunity of making use of their bargain. 
 The contract was faithfully carried out. 
 
 But it is unfair to judge of Zorrilla's merits by the expedients 
 to which he has been at various times reduced by pecuniary 
 difficulties. In 1845 Zorrilla had already published ten suc- 
 cessful volumes of verse and thirty dramas, but they brought 
 their author little profit. His Don Juan Tenorio, though 
 far inferior to Tirso de Molina's play on the same subject, 
 is one of the most successful and popular dramas published 
 in Spain during the present century. In spite of this we find 
 him in 1854, after an unsuccessful attempt to retrieve his 
 fortunes by means of a corrected edition of his works and an 
 Epic on Granada, living in Mexico, where he enjoyed for 
 some time the generous patronage of the unfortunate Emperor 
 Maximilian. At the time of his protector's overthrow and 
 death Zorrilla happened to be in Spain, and, finding himself 
 cut off from all hope of help from abroad, he set to work to 
 revive his somewhat faded laurels in his own country. Public 
 sympathy was roused in favour of the old poet whose struggles 
 against fortune had been crowned with so little success. He 
 was warmly supported in the tours he made round Spain for 
 the purpose of reading his own verses in public \ the Duchess 
 of Medinaceli raised a small subscription which relieved him 
 from his most pressing needs, and the Government finally 
 granted him a small pension. Zorrilla's longer pieces are 
 spoiled by haste, want of method, and a general slipshod air 
 and lack of finish. This is the case with his epics on Granada 
 and the Cid, in which even the sweetness of his verse cloys 
 at length by its insipid monotony. For subjects for his poems 
 he ransacked the legendary store of his country, but he rarely 
 improved upon the simple and powerful traditional stories ; his 
 
CONTEMPORARY LITERATURE 261 
 
 ideal was something like Sir Walter Scott's poems, but he 
 seldom approaches and still more rarely attains their standard 
 of merit. At other times the legend under treatment actually 
 loses dignity and point in the process of manufacture into a 
 poem. Of Zorrilla's work very little is worth a second read- 
 ing ; the stories themselves remain engraven on the mind, but 
 we are glad to forget the commonplace verse, which is all that 
 their author contributed to them. He exercised, however, a 
 wide influence on the minor poets of his time, and his work 
 produced a host of imitators who accurately reproduced their 
 master's faults— shallowness, commonplace, and lack of finish 
 — without possessing his chivalrous heart and occasionally 
 picturesque imagination. 
 
 Don Jose Selgas enjoyed during his lifetime a considerable 
 reputation as a journalist ; his sweet and amiable character had 
 gained him many friends, and, after his death, his verses, which 
 had appeared separately from time to time, were published by 
 his admirers. They form a considerable collection of lyrics of 
 great delicacy and beauty, full of deep appreciation of nature 
 and a tender and romantic melancholy. Without containing 
 anything of striking originality, they appeal to a large class of 
 readers by their simplicity and harmonious versification. Their 
 author's poetic imagination endowed each flower and rock with 
 separate individuality ; for him the voices of nature spoke in 
 articulate tones, and he wrote down simply and faithfully the 
 message that they gave. His manner is well illustrated in his 
 graceful lyric : — 
 
 La Noche. 
 
 1 " 1 Porque la noche callada 
 De negras sombras se viste ? 
 I Acaso esta enamorada ? " 
 " Estatriste." 
 
 1 "'Why is the silent night — clothed in black shadows? — Is she per- 
 chance in love?' — 'She is sad.' — 'Sad! Does she soothe her woes — by 
 
262 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 " j Triste ! . . . £Ysu pesar alegra 
 Rindiendo al amor tributo, 
 Vestida de sombra negra? " 
 " Va de luto." 
 ' ' ; Luto ! Por eso a deshora 
 Camina con paso incierto : 
 O celos 6 ausencia llora." 
 " Llora a un muerto." 
 ' ' | Muerto ! i Muerto ! Triste punto 
 De su amorosa porfia. 
 Pero i quien es el difunto ? 
 
 iQuien?" . . . "Eldia. 
 j El dia su faz esconde, 
 Rotos los mortales lazos ! " . . . 
 "Murio" . . . "pero^como? <[d6nde?" . . . 
 " En sus brazos." 
 " i En sus brazos ! i Trance fuerte 
 Que en negro luto la abisma ! . . . 
 Pero £ quien le dio la muerte?" 
 
 " Ella misma. 
 i Por eso triste y callada 
 De negras sombras se viste ! 
 Por eso viene enlutada 
 Muda y triste." 
 
 Ramon de Campoamor, born in 1817, is a poet of a very 
 different stamp. An ardent admirer of Shakespeare, and, 
 above all, of Byron, whose spirit pervaded Europe during the 
 period of Campoamor's youth, he lit his modest torch at these 
 great fires, and went forth into the world as their disciple. As 
 such he has no great pretensions to original inspiration, but his 
 Doloras and Cantares sing in correct verse of the genuine feel- 
 ings of a warm and open heart. Campoamor's very goodness 
 
 paying her homage to love, — clothed in black shadows ? ' — ' She mourns.' — 
 ' Mourning ! And thus through the hours of sleep — she roams with wander- 
 ing steps: — she mourns for the absent or faithless. — She weeps for her dead ' 
 — ' Dead ! dead ! Sad end — to her quest of love. — But who is the departed? 
 — Who?' — 'The day. — The day hath hidden his face — and broken the 
 bonds of life.' — ' He died.' ' But how and where? ' — ' In her arms.' — ' In 
 her arms ! Harsh fate — that has plunged her in weeds of woe ! — But who 
 was it that slew him?' — 'She, herself. — And thus, in sadness and silence, 
 — she is clothed in black shadows — for this she comes in mourning garb — 
 mute and woebegone.' " 
 
CONTEMPORARY LITERATURE 26 
 
 o 
 
 of nature and simplicity contrast strongly with the Byronian 
 
 sentiments in which he would conceal them ; often do we find 
 
 him like a child, playing at being very wicked, and knowing all 
 
 the time that it is but play. A considerable part of his best 
 
 verse consists of isolated thoughts, sometimes trivial, seldom 
 
 profound, but often delicate and strikingly original in form, 
 
 placed in the setting of a short couplet of simple structure that 
 
 saves them from the artificiality of the sonnet. Such are the 
 
 Doloras (Complaints), which their author defines as " poetic 
 
 compositions combining lightness, sentiment, and brevity with 
 
 philosophic importance." 
 
 Of his success in attaining his not unambitious object 
 
 the reader may judge by the two following characteristic 
 
 specimens : — 
 
 1 Mal de Muchas. 
 
 " l Que mal, doctor, la arrebato la vida ? " 
 Rosaura pregunto con desconsuelo. 
 " Murio," dijo el doctor, " de una caida." 
 Pues "ide donde cayo?" " Cayo del cielo. " 
 
 La Opini6n. 
 ; Pobre Carolina mia ! 
 ; Nunca la podre olvidar ! 
 Ved lo que el mundo decia 
 Viendo el feretro pasar. 
 
 Un clerigo " Empiece el canto.' 
 El doctor " Ceso de sufrir." 
 El padre " Me ahoga el llanto.' 
 La madre " \ Quiero morir ! " 
 
 1 " A Common Case. 
 
 " ' Doctor, what was the ill that caused her death,' — asked Rosaura 
 sorrowfully. — 'She died,' said the doctor, 'from a fall.' — 'Whence did she 
 fall ? ' ' She fell from heaven.' " 
 
 ' ' Impressions. 
 
 " My poor Carolina! — I shall never forget her. — Listen what the world said 
 — when it saw the bier pass by — A priest ' Let the chaunt begin ' — The doctor 
 'Her sufferings are over' — The father ' I am choked with weeping' — The 
 mother ' Would I might die ! ' — A boy ' How prettily decked ! ' — A youth 
 
264 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Un muchacho " ; Que adornada ! " 
 Unjoven " ; Era muy bella ! " 
 Una moza " \ Desgraciada ! " 
 Una vieja " ; Feliz ella ! " 
 
 " i Duerme en paz ! " dicen los buenos. 
 " i Adios ! " dicen los demas 
 Unfilosofo " Uno menos." 
 Un poeta " Un angel mas." 
 
 Verdad de las Tradiciones. 
 
 Vi una cruz en despoblado 
 Un dia que al campo fui, 
 
 Y un hombre me dijo " Alii 
 Mato a un ladron un soldado." 
 
 ii. 
 
 Y j oh perflda tradition ! 
 Cuando del campo volvi, 
 Otro hombre me dijo " Alii 
 Mato a un soldado un ladron." 
 
 Campoamor's most ambitious work is the Universal Drama 
 in which he attempts to imitate Dante and Milton. This long 
 poem contains fine passages of verse and thoughts of a deeper 
 character than the rest of his work would have justified us in 
 ascribing to its author. But its whole tone clashes with the 
 character of the somewhat sceptical, pantheistic, and epicurean 
 Campoamor whom we know and admire, and with the Do/oras, 
 the clue to which is to be found in the verse — 
 
 ' She was beautiful ' — A girl ' Poor luckless one ' — An old woman ' Happy- 
 she ' — 'She sleeps in peace,' say the good — 'Farewell,' say the rest — A 
 philosopher ' One less ' — A poet ' One angel more.' " 
 
 "The Truth of Traditions. 
 
 ' ' I saw a cross on a desert spot — one day that I went abroad, — and a man 
 said to me ' There — a robber was killed by a soldier. ' — And, alas for the faith 
 of legends ! — when I came back again, — another man said to me ' There — a 
 soldier was killed by a robber.' " 
 
CONTEMPORARY LITERATURE 265 
 
 1 Never will I write in my doloras, 
 Vainly and foolishly, 
 This untruth, 
 That good is infinite, 
 Or that love lasts for ever. 
 
 Personally, Campoamor is the most charming of men, frank 
 and cheerful in spite of his great age, and bearing the honours 
 his countrymen have showered upon him with manly modesty. 
 He is a senator and a member of the Academy. 
 
 The reputation of the modern drama in Spain rests on the 
 shoulders of a number of authors of considerable talent but 
 little originality, none of whom has succeeded in acquiring 
 fame outside his own country. At the beginning of the present 
 century Tomas Rodriguez Rubi and Breton de los Herreros 
 imitated French pieces with some success, sometimes trans- 
 forming them so completely as to give a flavour of the soil to 
 which they were transplanted. Rubi produced several original 
 comedies of manners of considerable dramatic and literary 
 interest. Of these the most celebrated are Detrds de la Cruz 
 el Diablo (Behind the Cross lurks the Devil) and Castillos en 
 el Aire (Castles in the Air), the latter a brilliant sketch of court 
 intrigue in the author's day. Herreros is more celebrated for 
 witty dialogue and brilliant scenes than for well-studied method 
 in his plots. 
 
 Gertrudis Ganez de Avellaneda, a Cuban lady, made a bold 
 attempt to revive the old Spanish tragedy. Her Alonso Munio 
 is founded on national history, and is distinguished by 
 chivalrous and patriotic sentiment, but public taste had 
 changed to such a degree that this really fine play which 
 attracted the attention of literary men, and was by them 
 favourably received, failed utterly to win popularity. Her 
 later works were still less successful. 
 
 Tamayo y Baus, after writing a somewhat frigid tragedy on 
 
 1 " Jamas en ellas escrito — Dejare\ imb^cil 6 loco, — El error — De que el 
 bien es infinito, — Ni que es eterno tampoco — El amor." 
 
266 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 the subject of Virginia, collaborated with Fernandez Guerra y 
 Orbe, the historian and critic, in the production of La Rica 
 LLembra (the Heiress), a historical drama modelled on the 
 theatre of Lope, but with considerably more careful drawing 
 of character. The heiress herself is a type of character 
 peculiar to Spain, proud, passionate, and imperious, with 
 strong prejudices of race and education, yet tender-hearted, 
 brave, and reckless of consequences. Guerra y Orbe is the 
 author of two other plays, the Daughter of Cerva?ites and 
 Alonso Cano, which prove rather his historical knowledge, 
 critical taste, and profound appreciation of the old Spanish 
 drama, than his fitness to shine on the feebler modern stage. 
 
 Alejandro Lopez de Ayala is a well-known political char- 
 acter, and one of the principal movers of the revolution of 
 1868. Before that time he had established his reputation as a 
 dramatic author. His talents fit him, however, for satire rather 
 than for the stage. He is the direct antithesis to Fernandez 
 Guerra, being essentially modern in tone. The subjects of his 
 plays are the vices and failings of his time, and his representa- 
 tion of them in an odious light was intended to be salutary. 
 A good instance of his manner is his Tanto por Ciento (Per- 
 centage), in which he holds up to public reprehension the 
 struggle for money and the mania for rash speculation, with its 
 lowering effect on the morality of the individual and on the 
 nation. This, as well as other works by the same author, 
 excited much attention at Madrid, which was pleased to recog- 
 nise itself on the stage, but the structure of the piece is not 
 sufficiently good to conceal the sermon which lies beneath. 
 
 The best of modern Spanish dramatists is Echegaray. His 
 long apprenticeship has given him a thorough insight into 
 dramatic method, and his manifold successes have taught him 
 to a nicety what will please the taste of his countrymen. 
 Echegaray is no great genius, but he is a conscientious play- 
 wright. Producing by dint of hard work rather than by 
 
CONTEMPORARY LITERATURE 267 
 
 inspiration, he seldom rises to lofty and stirring effects, but 
 always avoids the poor and commonplace. His plays have, 
 generally speaking, very little flavour of their native soil ; if 
 the proper names were changed, many of them would pass 
 unchallenged on the French or English stage. 1 
 
 After the seventeenth century literature ceased to appeal to 
 the great body of the people. The time has long gone by 
 when editions of the best Spanish authors such as Juan de 
 Mena, Aleman, and Garcilaso, were printed for the use of the 
 Spanish soldiers in the Low Countries, and when Cervantes 
 and his fellow-captives amused themselves with acting dramas 
 during their weary captivity in Algiers. The ballads are for- 
 gotten, and now sound strange in the ears of the descendants 
 of those who made them. The wandering reciter of verses at 
 the fairs or romerias (local pilgrimages) has lowered his tone, 
 and tells of the exploits of the campaign in Morocco or of the 
 execution of the latest notorious criminal, instead of the Cid 
 and his companions, and the Seven Princes of Lara. Times 
 have changed, and with them national ideals and literary 
 forms, but the spirit of poetry has not departed from the 
 Peninsula. The verses that appeal to the popular heart are 
 the innumerable short stanzas by unknown authors composed 
 to be sung to the guitar. Of these the most popular forms are 
 the petenera, or copla as it is loosely called ; the jota and the 
 seguidilla, combinations of music, song, and dance ; and the 
 malaguena. Each one of these forms is linked to a traditional 
 air, with slight local variations : the two latter especially bear 
 strong traces of an Oriental origin in their weird, wild, and 
 plaintive cadence. 
 
 The Malaguena belongs peculiarly to Andalucia and the 
 Jota to Aragdn, but all are popular in Castile, and in Castilian 
 are written most of the verses thus sung. Their structure is 
 
 1 For further information see Novo y Colson, Antores Dramaticos Con- 
 temporaneos. Madrid, 2 vols. fol. 
 
268 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 extremely simple, and well .adapted to the rustic poets by whom 
 they are frequently improvised to suit the occasion. The 
 ground-work of the petenera, jota, and malaguefia is the same, 
 four eight-syllable lines, the second and fourth rhymed, generally 
 in assonants (see p. 44) ; e.g. — 
 
 1 J Era tan dichoso antes 
 
 De encontrarte en mi camino ! 
 
 Y sin embargo no siento 
 El haberte conocido. 
 
 A couplet of the above form becomes a petenera by the 
 repetition of certain lines of the couplet and the addition of 
 other conventional and meaningless lines : — 
 
 2 Por ti me olvide de Dios 
 Por ti la gloria perdi, 
 
 Y ahora me voy a quedar 
 Solea triste de mi 
 
 Y ahora me voy a quedar 
 Sin Dios sin gloria y sin ti 
 Por ti me olvide de Dios 
 Por ti la gloria perdi. 
 
 The above couplet may be made into a jota or malaguefia 
 by additions and repetitions of a similar kind. 
 
 The structure of the seguidilla is more complicated, and its 
 movement more sprightly. The following is an example : — 
 
 s Cuando voy a la casa 
 
 De mi querida, 
 Se me hace cuesta abajo 
 
 La cuesta arriba ; 
 Y cuando salgo, 
 Se me hace cuesta arriba 
 
 La cuesta abajo. 
 
 1 "I was so happy before — I met you on my way, — but yet I do not 
 regret — that 1 have known you." 
 
 2 ' ' For thee I forgot my God — for thee I lost salvation — and now I am 
 left alone — godless and lost without thee." 
 
 3 " When I go to the house — of my true love, — the uphill road — slopes 
 down ; — and when I come away — the downhill road — slopes up." 
 
CONTEMPORARY LITERATURE 269 
 
 Such verses as these are sung outside the barber's shop, in 
 the courtyard of barracks, or in patios of inns throughout 
 the length and breadth of Spain. Many are of great delicacy 
 and beauty, others are coarse and indecent ; their theme is 
 principally love, but they reflect all the varying moods of the 
 Spanish people, all its pathos and quaint humour. When 
 read away from the country, they bring with them as it were 
 an echo from the sunlit plains and mountain villages of Spain. 
 
 \ 
 
 u t 
 
. 
 
ALPHABETICAL INDEX 
 
 OF 
 
 AUTHORS AND EDITIONS RECOMMENDED FOR 
 A COURSE OF SPANISH READING 
 
 N.B. — Many of the works here mentioned are contained in the following 
 
 Collections. 
 
 I. Biblioteca de Autores Espaiioles. 71 vols. 4to. Rivadeneyra, Madrid, 
 1842-80. 
 Bad paper and print ; good texts ; price 10 pts. vol. ; referred to as 
 Aut. Esp. 
 II. Coleccion de Escritores Castellanos. About 100 vols, are already 
 published, i2mo. Murillo, Madrid, 1880. 
 Good paper and print ; price 3 to 5 pts. vol. ; referred to as Escrit. 
 Castell. 
 III. Biblioteca Clasica Espanola. About 30 vols. 8vo. Cortezo, Barce- 
 lona, 1 88 1. 
 Good and cheap ; price 1.50 pta. vol. ; referred to as Bib. Clas. 
 Esp. 
 IV. Biblioteca de Arte y Letras. About 20 vols. 8vo. Domenech, 
 Barcelona. 
 Showy cloth covers ; fair print ; price 2 to 3 pts. vol. ; referred to as 
 Bib. Arte y Let. 
 V. Brockhaus Collection. About 30 vols. 8vo. Brockhaus, Leipzig, 
 1880. 
 Good print; good texts; price 2.50 mks. vol.; referred to as 
 Brockhaus. 
 
272 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 VI. Biblioteca Universal. About ioo vols. i6mo. Administration, 18 
 Leganitos, Madrid, 1881. 
 Cheap and useful extracts ; price 50 c. de pta. vol. ; referred to as 
 Bib. Univ. 
 
 Alarcon (Juan Ruiz de), Comedias escogidas (Aut. Esp. vol. xx.) Madrid. 
 
 Comedias (Bib. Clas. Esp. 2 vols.) Barcelona. 
 
 Alarcon (P. A.), Obras (Escrit. Castell. 16 vols.) Madrid. 
 
 El Sombrero de tres Picos. (Escrit. Castell.) Madrid. 
 
 Aleman (Mateo), Guzman de Alfarache (Aut. Esp. vol. iii.) Madrid. 
 
 2 vols. 8vo. Barcelona, 1885. 
 
 Alfonso el Sabio, Las Siete Partidas, por la Real Academia. 3 vols. 4to. 
 
 Madrid, 1807. 
 
 Las Cdntigas, por la Real Academia. Fol. Madrid, 1889. 
 
 Alfonso XL {Poema de), por Rodrigo Yanez (Aut. Esp. vol. lviii.) Madrid. 
 Avellaneda (Alonso Fernandez de), Don Quijote (Bib. Clas. Esp.) 
 
 Barcelona. 
 
 (Aut. Esp. vol. xviii. ) Madrid. 
 
 Ayala (Lopez de), Rimado de Palacio (Aut. Esp. vol. lvii.) Madrid. 
 
 Baena (Juan Alfonso), Cancionero. 4to. Madrid, 1851. 
 
 Bazan (Emilia P.), Obras comphtas. 7 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 1892. 
 
 Pazos de Ulloa and Madre Naturaleza. 2 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 1892. 
 
 Becquer (Gustavo A.), Obras. 3 vols. i2mo. Madrid, 1885. . 
 
 Caballero (Fernan), Cuentos, etc. (Brockhaus, 2 vols.) Leipzig. 
 
 Novelas. 10 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 1856-60. 
 
 (Escrit. Castell.) Madrid (in press). 
 
 Calderon de la Barca (Pedro), Comedias (Aut. Esp. vols. vii. ix. xii. 
 
 xiv.) Madrid. 
 
 Teatro Selecto, ed. Menendez y Pelayo. 4 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 1887. 
 
 Autos Sacramentales (Aut. Esp. vol. lviii.) Madrid. 
 
 La Vida es Suefio and Principe Constante, ed. Max Krenkel. Leipzig, 
 
 1881. 
 
 El Mdgico Prodigioso, ed. A. Morel-Fatio. 8vo. Heilbronn, 1877. 
 
 Select Plays, ed. Norman MacColl. 8vo. London, 1888. 
 
 Six Dramas, trans. Ed. Fitzgerald. 2 vols. 8vo. New York, 1887. 
 
 3 vols. 8vo. London, 1889. 
 
 Campoamor (Ramon de), Doloras y Cantares. 8vo. Madrid, 1882. 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS AND EDITIONS 27; 
 
 Campoamor (Ramon de), Los pequenos Poemas. 7th edit. 2 vols. 8vo. 
 
 Madrid, 1883. 
 Canovas del Castillo (Antonio), Obras (Escrit. Castell. 6 vols.) Madrid. 
 Castillejo (Cristobal de), Poesias (Aut. Esp. vol. xxxii.) Madrid. 
 Castro (Guillen de), Comedias Escogidas (Aut. Esp. vol. xliii.) Madrid. 
 
 Mocedades del Cid, par E. Merimee. 8vo. Toulouse, 1890. 
 
 Celestina {La). (Aut. Esp. vol. iii. ) Madrid. 
 
 i2mo. Madrid, 1822. 
 
 (Bib. Univ.) 2 vols. Madrid. 
 
 (Bib. Clas. Esp.) 8vo. Barcelona. 
 
 Cervantes Saavedra (Miguel), Obras. 16 vols. Svo. Madrid, 1803-5. 
 
 Obras (Aut. Esp. vol. i.) Madrid. 
 
 Obras. 12 vols. 4to. Argamasilla de Alba, 1863. 
 
 Obras, ed. C. Rosell. 12 vols. fol. Madrid, 1861. 
 
 Don Quijote, por la Real Academia. 5 vols. 4to. Madrid, 1819. 
 
 Don Quijote, notas de Clemencin. 6 vols. 4to. Madrid, 1833. 
 
 Don Quijote, notas de Pellicer. 8vo. Madrid, 1865. 
 
 ■ Don Quijote (Brockhaus). 2 vols. Leipzig. 
 
 Don Quijote and Persiles y Sigismunda. 3 vols. 32mo. Madrid, 1880. 
 
 Novelas Ejemplares. Brockhaus, Leipzig. 
 
 - Novelas Ejemplares (Bib. Clas. Esp.) 2 vols. Barcelona. 
 
 Comedias y Enlremeses. 2 vols. Svo. Madrid, 1749. 
 
 Comedias y Entremeses. 4to. Madrid, 1875. 
 
 Translations. Don Quixote, by A. J. Dufneld. 3 vols. 8vo. London, 
 
 1881. 
 
 Don Quixote, by John Ormsby. 4 vols. Svo. London, 1885. 
 
 Don Quixote, by H. E. Watts. 5 vols. 4to. London, 1888. 
 
 Viage del Parnaso, by J. Y. Gibson. 8vo. London, 18^3. 
 
 Numancia, by J. Y. Gibson. Svo. London, 1885. 
 
 Sancho Panzas Proverbs, by U. Burke. i2mo. London, 1892. 
 
 Cid (Poema del). (Aut. Esp. vol. lvii.) Madrid. 
 
 ed. Sanchez (Poesias Castell. Ant. Sig. xv.) 4 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 1779. 
 
 ed. K. Vollmoller. 8vo. Halle, 1879. 
 
 trans. J. Ormsby. i2mo. London, 1879. 
 
 Coloma (P. Luis), Pequeneces. 5th edit. Svo. Bilbao, 1892. 
 
 Cota (Rodrigo), see Celestina and Moratin. 
 
 Cruz (Ramon de la), Sainetes (Bib. Arte y Let. 2 vols.) Barcelona. 
 
 2 vols. 4to. Madrid, 1843. 
 
 T 
 
274 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Encina (Juan de la), see Moratin. 
 
 Ercilla (Alonso de), La Araucana (Aut. Esp. vol. xvii.) Madrid. 
 
 2 vols. i2mo. Madrid, 1776. 
 
 ed. Real Academ. 2 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 1864. 
 
 Espinel (Vicente), Marcos de Obregon (Bib. Arte y Let.) Barcelona, 
 
 1883. 
 
 (Aut. Esp. vol. xviii. ) Madrid. 
 
 Espronceda (Jose de), Obras poeticas, ed. J. E. Hartzenbusch. 8vo. 
 
 Paris, 1870. 
 
 (Bib. Arte y Let. ) 8vo. Barcelona. 
 
 Pdginas olvidadas. 8vo. Madrid, 1882. 
 
 Galdos (P.), Episodios Nacionales. 20 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 1873-88. 
 
 (Illustrated.) 10 vols. 4to. Madrid, 1881-83. 
 
 Games (Gutierre de), Cronicade Don Pero Nino. 4to. Madrid, 1782. 
 Gongora (Luisde), Poesias (Aut. Esp. vol. xxxii.) Madrid. 
 
 Poesias ineditas, ed. Garcia. 4to. Granada, 1892. 
 
 Poesias escogidas. 8vo. Cordoba, 1811. 
 
 Granada (Fray Luis de), Obras (Aut. Esp. vols. vi. viii. xi.) Madrid. 
 Guevara (Luis Velez de), Diablo Cojuelo (Aut. Esp. vol. xxxiii.) Madrid. 
 (Bib. Univ.) i6mo. Madrid, 1884. 
 
 Herrera (Fernando de), Poesias (Aut. Esp. vol. xxxii.) Madrid. 
 
 Hita (Gines Perez de), Guerras de Granada (Aut. Esp. vol. iii.) Madrid. 
 
 2 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 1833. 
 
 Iriarte (Tomas), Fdbulas literarias (Aut. Esp. vol. lxiii. ) Madrid. 
 
 8vo. Madrid, 1892. 
 
 Isla (Padre), Fray Gerundio. 2 vols. 8vo. , 1 770. 
 
 2 vols. 8vo. Leipzig, 1885. 
 
 Obras escogidas (Aut. Esp. vol. xv.) Madrid. 
 
 Juan II. (Crdnica del Rey). (Aut. Esp. lxviii. ) Madrid. 
 
 Larra (Manuel), Articulos escogidos (Bib. Clas. Esp.) Barcelona. 
 
 Obras completas. 2 vols. 4to. Baudry, Paris, 1 883. 
 
 Lazarillo de Tormes (Vida de). (Aut. Esp. vol. iii.) Madrid. 
 
 con la Gnerra de Granada, por Hurtado de Mendoza. 
 
 8vo. Madrid, 1881. 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS AND EDITIONS 27s 
 
 Leon (Fray Luis de), Obras (Aut. Esp. vol. xxxvii.) Madrid. 
 
 4 vols. 4to. Madrid, 1885. 
 
 La Perfecta Casada (Bib. Clas. Esp.) Barcelona. 
 
 4to. Madrid, 1872. 
 
 Poesias, ed. Fernandez. l2mo. Madrid, 1790. 
 
 Lope de Vega, Obras no dramdticas. 21 vols. 4to. Madrid, 1776-79. 
 
 (Aut. Esp. vol. xxxvii.) Madrid. 
 
 Comedias (Aut. Esp. vols. xxiv. xxxiv. xli. lii.) Madrid. 
 
 Obras, ed. Real Academia. Fol. 3 vols, published. Madrid, 1890. 
 
 Luna (Alvaro de), Cronica de Don A. de L. 4to. Madrid, 1784. 
 
 Manrique (Jorge de), Las Coplas (Aut. Esp. vol. xxxv.) Madrid. 
 
 (Bib. Univ.) i6mo. Madrid. 
 
 Manuel (Don Juan), Conde Lucanor, etc. (Aut. Esp. vol. li. ) Madrid. 
 
 8vo. Barcelona, 1853. 
 
 Mariana (P. Juan de), Obras (Aut. Esp. vols, xxx.-xxxi. ) Madrid. 
 
 Historia General de Espafia con la continuacion de Minana. 5 vols. 
 
 4to. Madrid, 1849. 
 Marin, Cantos Populares. 5 vols. i2mo. Sevilla, 1882-83. 
 Mendoza (Diego Hurtado de), Guerra de Granada (Aut. Esp. vol. xxi.) 
 
 Madrid. 
 
 See Lazarillo. 
 
 Menendez y Pelayo (M.), Obras (Escrit. Castell. 12 vols.) Madrid. 
 
 Historia de los Heterodoxos Espanoles. 3 vols. 4to. Madrid, 1880-82. 
 
 Antologia de liricos castellanos. 3 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 1891. 
 
 ~— Mesonero Romanos, El antigno Madrid. 8vo. Madrid, 1881. 
 
 Escenas Matritenses. 2 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 1 88 1. 
 
 Molina (Tirso de, Gabriel Tellez), Comedias escogidas (Aut. Esp. vol. v.) 
 
 Madrid. 
 
 Autos sacramentales (Aut. Esp. vol. lviii.) Madrid. 
 
 Novelas (Aut. Esp. vol. xviii. ) Madrid. 
 
 Montalvo (Garci-Ordonez de), Amadis de Gaula and Las Sergas de 
 
 Esplandidn (Aut. Esp. vol. xl.) Madrid. 
 Montemayor (Jorge de) y Polo (Gil), La-Diana (Bib. Clas. Esp. ) Barcelona. 
 Moratin (Leandro Fernandez de), Obras. Origenes del Teatro Espailol 
 
 (Aut. Esp. vol. ii.) Madrid. 
 
 Comedias (Bib. Clas. Esp.) Barcelona. 
 
 Moreto (Augustin), Comedias escogidas (Aut. Esp. vol. xxxix.) Madrid. 
 
^c 
 
 276 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Nuilez de Arce, Gritos del Combate. 8vo. Madrid, 1892. 
 
 Obras dramdticas. 8vo. Madrid, 1882. 
 
 Poemas. 8vo. Madrid, 1889. 
 
 Pereda (J. ), Sotilezas and other novels. 13 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 1884-91. 
 Perez (Antonio), Cartas (Aut. Esp. vol. xiii.) Madrid. 
 
 Relaciones. 2 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 1849. 
 
 Polo (Gil), La Diana. 8vo. Madrid, 1802. 
 4to. Valencia, i860. 
 
 Quevedo y Villegas (Francisco de), Obras (Aut. Esp. vols, xxiii. xlviii. 
 lxix.) Madrid. 
 
 El gran Tacafio (Bib. Clas. Esp.) Barcelona. 
 
 Los Suenos (Bib. Univ.) i6mo. Madrid, 1876. 
 
 Essai sur Quevedo, par E. Merimee. 8vo. Paris, 1886. 
 
 Quintana (Manuel Jose), Obras (Aut. Esp. vol. xix. ) Madrid. 
 
 Obras Ineditas. 4to. Madrid, 1872. 
 
 Rojas (Fernando), see Celestina. 
 
 Rojas (Francisco de), Comedias escogidas (Aut. Esp. vol. liv.) Madrid. 
 
 Romancero General (ed. Duran). (Aut. Esp. vols. x. xvi.) Madrid. 
 
 Selections (Bib. Clas. Esp. ) 8vo. Barcelona. 
 
 ed. Depping. Brockhaus, Leipzig. 
 
 Romancero del Cid (ed. Michaelis). Brockhaus, Leipzig. 
 
 (Bib. Univ. ) Madrid. 
 
 Rueda (Lope de), see Moratin. 
 
 Ruiz (Juan, Archipreste de Hita), Cantares (Aut. Esp. vol. lvii.) Madrid. 
 
 ed. Sanchez (Poesias Castell. ant. Sig. xv.) 4 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 
 
 1779. 
 
 Saavedra Fajardo (Diego), Obras (Aut. Esp. vol. xxv.) Madrid. 
 
 Corona GStica (Bib. Clas. Esp.) Barcelona. 
 
 Samaniego, Fdbulas (Aut. Esp. vol. lxi.) Madrid. 
 
 Fdbulas completas. 8vo. Madrid, n.d. 
 
 Santos (Francisco), Novelas (Aut. Esp. vol. xxxiii.) Madrid. 
 
 Selgas (Jose), Poesias. 2 vols. i2mo. Madrid, 1882. 
 
 Solis (Antonio de), Historia de la Conquista de Mejico (Aut. Esp. vol. 
 
 xxviii.) Madrid. 
 2 vols. 4to. Madrid, 1783-84. 
 
INDEX OF AUTHORS AND EDITIONS 277 
 
 Teresa de Jesus (Santa), Escritos (Aut. Esp. vols. liii. Iv.) Madrid. 
 
 Torres Naharro (Bartolome de), see Moratin. 
 
 Trueba (A. de), Cuentos. Brockhaus, Leipzig. 
 
 Narraciones popzilares, etc. 1 1 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 1874-82. 
 
 Valdes (Juan de), Didlogo de la Lengua. 8vo. Madrid, i860. 
 
 Dialogo de Mercurio y CarSn. 8vo. Madrid, 1850. 
 
 Valdes (Palacio), La Hermana San Sulpicio. 2 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 1889. 
 Valera (Juan), Obras (Escrit. Castell. 10 vols.) Madrid. 
 
 Pepita Gimenez (Escrit. Castell.) Madrid. 
 
 Vega (Garcilaso de la), Poesias (Aut. Esp. vol. xxxii. ) Madrid. 
 
 i6mo. Madrid, 181 7. 
 
 i6mo. Madrid, 1886. 
 
 Virues (Cristobal de), El Monserrate (Aut. Esp. vol. xvii. ) Madrid. 
 
 Yanez (Rodrigo), see Alfonso XL 
 
 Zayas (Dona Maria de), Novelas (Aut. Esp. vol. xxxiii. ) Madrid. 
 Zorrilla (Jose), Leyendas y Tradiciones Historicas. 8vo. Madrid, 1880. 
 Obras. 3 vols. 4to. Baudry, Paris. 
 
ALPHABETICAL LIST 
 
 OF 
 
 A FEW OF THE PRINCIPAL AUTHORITIES ON 
 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 I. Castilian l 
 
 Amador de los Rios (Jose), Historia critica de la Lit. Esp. (prior to 
 fifteenth century). 7 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 1861-65. 
 
 Antonio (Nicolas), Bibliotheca Hispana Vetus et Nova. 4 vols. fol. 
 Madrid, 1787-88. 
 
 Barrera (C. A. de la), Catdlogo bibliografico y biogrdfico del Teatro antiguo 
 
 espanol. 8vo. Madrid, i860. 
 Blanco y Garcia (Francisco), La Lit. Esp. en el Siglo XLX. 2 vols. 8vo. 
 
 Madrid, 1891. 
 
 Canete (Manuel), Teatro Espanol del Sig. XVL. (Escrit. Castell.) Madrid. 
 Castro (F. Sanchez de), Literatura Espahola. 8vo. Madrid, 1890. 
 Cueto (L. A. de), Poesia castellana en el Siglo XVIJL., preface to vol. i. 
 Poet. Liricos del Sig. XVILL. (Aut. Esp.) Madrid. 
 
 Diez (Frederic), Sur la Poesie populaire en Espagne, etc. 
 Dozy (R.), Recherches stir T Histoire politique et litter aire de P Espagne. 
 3rd edit. 2 vols. 8vo. Leyde, 1881. 
 
 Gallardo (B. J.), Ensayo de una biblioteca espanola. 4 vols. 4to. Madrid, 
 1865-87. 
 
 1 For further information see articles by C. M. Garcia (Revista Contem/>ordnea), 
 July-September, 1892. 
 
LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL AUTHORITIES 279 
 
 Hubbard (M. G.), Histoire de la Lit. contemporaine en Espagne. I vol. 
 i2mo. Paris, 1876. 
 
 Mayans y Siscar (Gregorio), On'gines de la Lengna Castellana. 2 vols. 
 
 Svo. Madrid, 1737. 
 Menendez y Pelayo (Marcelino), Historia de las Ideas esteticas en Espaiia 
 
 (Escrit. Castell.) 9 vols. Madrid, 1884-92. 
 
 Calderdn y su teatro (Escrit. Castell.) Madrid. 
 
 Mila y Fontanals (M.), De la Poesia heroico -popular Castellana. Svo. 
 
 Barcelona, 1874. 
 Morel-Fatio (A.), L Espagne au XVI. et an XVII. siecle, etc. 8vo. 
 
 Bonn, 1878. 
 
 Pellicer (Casiano), Tratado historuo sobre el Or/gen y Progrcsos de la 
 Corncdia. 8vo. Madrid, 1S04. 
 
 Schack (Frederic von), Geschichte der dramatise hen Literatur 11. Ktmsl in 
 Spanien. 3 vols. Svo. Frankfurt-a. -M. 1846-54. 
 
 Sismondi (J. C. L. S. de), De la littcrature du Midi de F Europe, trans, 
 T. Roscoe. 2 vols. Svo. London, 1889. 
 
 Tannenberg (B. de), La pocsie castellane contemporaine. i2mo. Paris. 
 Ticknor (>f . G. ), History of Spanish Literature. 4th edit. 3 vols. 8vo. 
 
 Boston, 1872. 
 translated by Vedia and Gayangos. 4 vols. 8vo. Madrid, 
 
 1856. 
 
 Various. Prefaces to volumes of the Autores Espafioles series. 
 
 Wolf (Ferdinand), Studien zur Geschichte der Spanischenu. Portugiesischen 
 Nationalliteratur. Svo. Berlin, 1859. 
 
 II. Catalan 
 
 Baret (Eugene), Espagne et Provence. Svo. Paris, 1857. 
 
 Denk (Otto), Einfuhrung in die Geschichte der altcatalanischen Litteratur. 
 8vo. Munich, 1893. 
 
 Fuster, Biblioteca Valenciana. 2 vols. fol. Valencia, 1827-30. 
 
28o SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Helferrich (A. ), Raymond Lull zmd die Anf tinge des Catalonischen 
 Literatur. 
 
 Mila y Fontanals, Resenya historica y critica dels antichs Poetas Catalans. 
 Barcelona, 1863. 
 
 De los Trovadores en Espaha. Barcelona, 1861. 
 
 Morel-Fatio (A.) and Meyer (P.), Articles in Romania. 1870-92. 
 
 
I N DEX 
 
 Abencerraje {The A. and the 
 
 beau tifu I J a rifa ) , 92 
 Academies (foundation of), 231 
 Acquaviva (Cardinal), 140 
 Actors (position of early), 67 
 Adoration of the Three Holy Kings, 
 
 Aesthetic Ideas {History of), 257 
 Agudeza y Arte del Ingenio, 136 
 Alarc6n (Juan Ruiz de), 210-2 12 
 
 (Pedro), 253 
 Alcalde de Zalamca, 194 
 Aleman (Mateo), 90 
 Alexander [Poem of), 17 
 Alfonso XI. {Poem of), 30 
 Alfonso el Sabio, 17, 18-23 
 Alguacil endemoniado {El), 177 
 Aljamia, 4 note, 17 
 Allegory, 81, 113, 117, 123, 144, 
 
 188, 194, 223 
 Alonso Cano, 266 
 
 Munio, 265 
 Alvaro de Luna as a poet, 71 
 Alvaro de Luna {Death of), 35, 38 
 Amadis de Gaula, 41 
 Amantes de Teruel {Los), 215 
 Anales de la Corona de Aragdn, 103 
 Andalucians, 8 
 Antiguo Madrid {El), 250 
 Apollonius {Book of), 15 
 Arabic element in Spanish, 11 
 
 language used in Spain, 5, 10 
 Araucana {La), •z'Z'j 
 Arauco domado, 227 
 Arcadia {La), 87, 160 
 Archpriest of Hita, 27, 28 
 Argensola (Lupercio and Leonardo 
 de), 122 
 
 Ariosto imitated by Spaniards, 225, 
 
 228 
 Arte mayor { Versos de), 20, 32, 70 
 
 Nuevo de hacer Corned ias, 166 
 A son ante, 44 
 Asturians, 7 
 Ausias March, 55 
 Austriada {La), 226 
 Auto, or aucto (meaning of), 61 note, 
 62, 65, 68 
 
 del Repeldn, 61 
 Autor (meaning of), 64 
 Autos sacramentales, 186-189 
 Avellaneda, 154 
 
 (Gertrudis de), 265 
 Avila (Juan de), 97 
 Ayala (Alejandro Lopez de), 266 
 
 Bachiller de la Torre, 182 
 Baena (Juan Alfonso de), 71 
 Balbuena (Bernardo de), 228 
 Ballads, 44-53 
 
 (connection of, with Chronicles), 
 
 45 
 of Bernardo del Carpio, 46 
 
 of the Infantes de Lara, 47 
 
 of the Cid, 49 
 
 (decay of the), 52 
 
 made use of in drama, 200 
 Balm6s (Jaime), 247 
 Barahona de Soto, 160, 228 
 Battle between Sir Carnival and Lady 
 Lent, 27 
 
 of the Frogs and the Mice, 225 
 Bazan (Emilia Pardo), 101, 254 
 Becquer (Gustavo), 250 
 Berceo (Gonzalo de), 16 
 Bernardo {EI), 228 
 
282 
 
 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Bernardo del Carpio, 37, 46 
 
 Bibliotheca Vetus et Nova, 230 
 
 Blanquerna, 57 
 
 Boscan (Juan), 114 
 
 Bourbon kings encourage literature, 
 
 230 
 Breton de los Herreros, 265 
 Bur la dor de Sevilla, 203-208 
 
 Caballeri'as (Libros de), 40-43, 
 
 80 
 Caer para levantar, 213 
 Calder6n de la Barca (Pedro), 172, 
 185-197, 213 
 
 (Serafin Estebanez), 249 
 Campoamor (Ram6n), 262 
 Cancidn a Lepanto, 119 
 
 de luan de Mena, 76 
 
 de San Fernando, 119 
 Cancionero de Baena, 70 
 
 General, 45 
 Canovas del Castillo (Antonio), 250 
 Cantigas de Alfonso el Sabio, 20 
 Canto de Caliope, 144 
 Capa y espada (Comedias de), 163 
 Carambaleo (a dramatic company), 
 
 68 
 C dree I de Amor {La), 81 
 Carlo famoso, 226 
 Carmelites (reform of), 98 
 Carolea {La), 226 
 Cartas a un Esc&ptico, 247 
 
 eruditas, 239 
 
 Espirituales , 97 
 Casa de Tdqueme Roque, 235 
 Castaneras picadas (Las), 235 
 Castelar (Emilio), 254 
 Castellanos (Juan de), 228 
 Castilian language, 6 
 
 character, 8 
 
 used in conjunction with other 
 languages in the drama, 62 
 Castilla (Francisco de), 117 
 Castillejo (Cristobal de), 117 
 Castillos en el Aire, 265 
 Catalan literature, 54-58 
 Catalans, 8 
 
 Catholicism, Liberalism, and Social- 
 ism (Essay upon), 247 
 Celestina (La), 60, 81-86 
 
 (connection with drama), 85 
 
 (picaresque novel), 85 
 
 Celos, 193 
 
 Celt-Iberian language, 2 
 
 Cemejiterio de Momo (El), 242 
 
 Centildquio (El), 73 
 
 Centdn Epistolario, 112 
 
 Cervantes (Miguel de), 43, 139-158, 
 
 226 
 • account of the early theatre, 66 
 opinion of La Celestina, 85 
 of Diana Enamorada, 86 
 of pastoral novels, 87 
 Novelas ejemplares, 93 
 (Rodrigo de), 142 
 Character (change in the national), 
 
 221 
 Christopher Columbus (Letters of), 
 
 109 
 Chronicle of the Catholic Sovereigns, 
 102 
 of En laime, 56 
 of Ramdn de Muntaner, 56 
 Chronicles, 21, 34-40 
 
 and Ballads (connection between), 
 
 37 
 
 (fabulous), connection with Ro- 
 mances of Chivalry, 40 
 Cibdareal (Bachiller de), 112 
 Cid (The), 9, 49 
 
 (Chronicles of), 14 
 
 (Ballads of), 15, 49 
 Cid (Poetna de Myo), 12, 46 
 
 by Zorrilla, 260 
 
 of Corneille, 200, 201 
 
 (Las Mocedades del), 200-202 
 Cigarrales de Toledo (Los), 209 
 Classical and Romantic schools, 241 
 
 rules of the drama, 166, 202 
 Classification of poets by locality, 
 
 121 
 Clerecla (poemas de), 15 
 Climate and productions, 7 
 Coloma (Padre Luis), 255 
 Coloquio de los Perros, 148 
 Coloquios pastoriles, 64 
 Comedia applied to drama, 60, 62, 
 64, 65 
 
 Prddiga, 66 
 
 Soldadesca, 63 
 
 Tinelaria, 63 
 Comedias y entremeses de Cervantes, 
 
 *53 
 
 de santos, 188 
 
 
INDEX 
 
 2§- 
 
 Cotnedieta de Ponza, 60-62 
 Comendador Griego (El), 76, 138 
 Conceptismo, 136 
 
 (meaning of), 184 
 Conde Alarcus (El), 200 
 
 d'Irlos {El), 200 
 
 Lucanor, 24 
 Condenado por Desconfiado (El), 209 
 Conquista de Mijico, 108 
 Constante Amarilis (La), 87 
 Corona Gdtica, 135 
 
 Trdgica (La), 224 
 Coronacidn de Santillana, 76 
 Corrales, 67 
 
 Cortis valeroso (El), 227 
 Cota (Rodrigo), 60, 81 
 Cristiada (La), 226 
 Criticdn, 137 
 
 Crdnica General de Espafia, 102 
 Cruz (Ramon de la), 234 
 Cuaderna via, 15, 16, 27, 32 
 Culleranismo, 124, 190 
 Cure and the Disease (The), 188 
 Curioso I mpertinente (El), 202 
 
 Danza de la Muerte, 31 
 
 Daughter of Cervantes ( The), 266 
 
 De Rege et Regis Institutione, 105 
 
 Death of Jesus, 242 
 
 Decay of literature, 230 
 
 Decidor and trovador contrasted with 
 
 poeta, 72 ; cf. 75 
 Did mas, 167 
 
 Del Rey abajo Ninguno, 217 
 Deleitar Aprovechando, 210 
 Deli Mami, 141 
 Desdtf/i con Desddn, 212 
 Detrds de la Cruz el Diablo, 265 
 Devocidn de la Cruz, 195 
 Diablo A/undo, 244 
 Dialects of Peninsula, 6 
 Didlogo de la Lengua, 135 
 
 dfe Mercu rio y Ca rdn , 136 
 Dialogue between an Old Man and 
 Love, 60 
 
 between Humanity and its Com- 
 forter, 117 
 Diana Enamorada, 86 
 
 Segunda del Salamantino, 86 
 
 de Gil Polo, 87 
 Diccionario de Autoridades, 231 
 Diet ado, 17 
 
 Didactic works, 23, 132-137 
 Dinero es quien hace H ombre, 203 
 Disputation between the Body and the 
 
 Soul, 16 
 Doctor exldtico, 131 
 Doctrinal de Privados (Ei), 74 
 Dolor as (Las), 1(32. 
 Don Alvaro, 242 
 
 Gil de las Calzas Verdes, 208 
 
 Gonzalo Gonzalez, 254 
 
 Juan Tenorio (character of), 203, 204 
 
 Juan Tenorio, 260 
 
 Quixote, 149-152 
 part ii., 155 
 
 (spurious second part of ), 154 
 in Guillen de Castro's plays, 202 
 Dofta Luz, 252 
 Donoso Cortes (Juan), 247 
 Dorotea (La), 168 
 Dos de Mayo, 235, 242, 245 
 Dragon tea (La), 223 
 Drama (origin of the), 59-69 
 
 (Alfonso the Wise regulates), 59 
 
 (Lope's conception of), 167 
 
 (Moratin's work on the older), 233 
 
 (characteristics of), 218 
 
 (decay of), 220, 233 
 
 (sacred), 65-67 
 Dramatists of the Golden Age, 198- 
 222 
 
 Echegarav (dramas of), 266 
 
 Eglogas, 61 
 
 Eight-syllable verse, 16, 30, 32 
 
 El Comendador de Mendoza, 252 
 
 El Makkari, 22 
 
 Elegias de Varones ilustres de Lndias, 
 
 228 
 Eleven-syllable verse, 114 
 En Jaime el Conquistador, 56 
 Encina (Juan del), 61 
 Endecha, 242 
 Enredos = intricacy of plot, 65, 163, 
 
 190 
 Entre Bobos anda el Juego, 216 
 Entremeses, 59, 65, 68 
 Epic poetry, 223 
 Episodios Nacionales, 253 
 Ercilla (Alonso), 226 
 Erotic verses of Quevedo, 174 
 Escenas Andaluzas, 250 
 Matritenses, 250 
 
284 
 
 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Espinel (Vicente), 91 
 Esplandidn (Las Sergas de), 42 
 Espronceda (Jose" de), 243 
 Espuma (La), 254 
 Esquilache (Prince of), 123 
 Esquire who became a Shepherd, 61 
 Estoria (Grande e" General), 21 
 
 de Espanna, 21 
 Estrofas de pie quebrado, 117 
 Estudiante de Salamanca, 244 
 Euphuism, 124 
 
 Fables, 23, 232 
 
 Felipe IV. as a playwright, 212 note, 
 
 230 
 Fernan Caballero, 248 
 Fernan- Gonzalez, Poem of, 18 
 Fernando (Policy of King Don), 134 
 Feyjoo (Benito), 239 
 Fiesta de Toros en Madrid, 231 
 Figtirones, 213 
 Filena, 140 
 Fita (Padre Fidel), 256 
 Francisco de la Torre (El Bachiller), 
 
 122 
 Fray Gerundio, 236 
 French classical school, 231, 241 
 
 influence, 229 
 
 Revolution, effect on Spain, 240 
 Fuero luzgo, 3, 19 
 
 Galatea (La), 87, 143, 156 
 Galician influence onCastilian poetry, 
 
 75 
 Galicians, 7 
 
 Gallego (Juan Nicasio), 242 
 Games (Gutierre Diez de), 38 
 Garay (Cartas de), 138 
 Garcilaso de la Vega, 114 
 Gatomaqtiia (La), 224 
 Gay Science (Consistory of the), 73 
 Gayangos (Pascual de), 256 
 Germania, 146 
 Gigantones, 186 
 Gil Polo, 87 
 
 Vicente, 62 
 Gitanilla (La), 147 
 Glosas (meaning of), 130 
 G6ngora (Luis de), 73, 124-126 
 Gongorismo, 124 
 
 Gonzalez de Clavijo (Itinerary of), 
 39 
 
 Gonzalo de Cdrdova (Chronicle of), 
 
 38 
 
 Goths (conquest of Spain by), 3 
 Gracian (Baltasar), 126, 136 
 Gracioso, 85, 193 
 Gran Tacano (El), 91, 175 
 Granada (Fray Luis de), 100 
 Granada, 260 
 
 ( The Wars of), 92 
 Grilos del Combate, 258 
 Guerra de Granada (by Mendoza), 
 
 106 
 Guerra y Orbe (Fernandez), 266 
 Guevara (Antonio de), 133 
 Guide for Sinners, 100 
 Guillen de Castro, 160, 172, 199 
 Guzman de Alfarache, 90, 91 
 
 continuations of, 91 
 
 Ha do y Divisa, 186 
 Hartzenbusch (Eugenio), 216 
 Hassan Pasha, 141, 142 
 Haz de Lena (El), 259 
 Hermana de la Caridad, 254 
 
 San Sulpicio, 254 
 Hermosura de Angelica, 160, 225 
 Hernan Cortds (reports of), no 
 Hernando del Pulgar, 102 
 Herrera (Fernando de), 118 
 Heterodoxy in Spain (history of), 
 
 257 
 History, 102-112, 256 
 
 History of the Arabs in Spain, 
 256 
 of the Indies, in 
 
 of the Rebellion and Chastisement 
 of the Moriscos, 106 
 Hita (Gines Perez de), 92 
 Hojeda (Diego de), 226 
 Humour on the stage, 213 
 
 (lack of in Calderdn), 197 
 Hurtado de Mendoza (Diego), 88, 
 93, 106, 118 
 
 Idyll, by Nunez de Arce, 259 
 Imperial (Micer Francisco), 72 
 Inquisition, 133 
 
 (censure of Quevedo by), 179 
 Intrdito, 63 
 
 Invincible Armada, 160 
 Iriarte (Juan de), 138 
 Isla (Jose" Francisco), 236 
 
INDEX 
 
 285 
 
 Italian influence on Spanish litera- 
 ture, 31, 70, 75, 80, 113, 114, 
 
 US- I2 3 
 
 Jealousy on the Spanish stage, 193 
 
 Jerusalen Conquistada, 224 
 
 Jimena (character of), 201 
 
 Tordi (Moss6n), 73 
 
 Jornadas (division of plays into), 63, 
 
 65, 144 
 Jota, 267 
 Juan II. {Chronicle of ), 35 
 
 as a poet, 71 
 Juan de Austria (Don), 141 
 
 Manuel (Don), 24-26, 137, 231 
 Juegos por escarnio, 59, 65 
 Juglares de pifwla y de boca, 45 
 Just a podtica , 172 
 Jusuf-Libro de, 17 
 
 Knight and Squire {Book of the), 
 
 26 
 Knight of the Grapple, 176 
 
 Laberinto {El), 75 
 Lafuente (Modesto), 256 
 Ldgrimas de Angelica, 160, 228 
 Lara {Siete Infantes de), 38, 47 
 Larra (Mariano), 249 
 Las Casas (Fray Bartolome de), no 
 Lasso de la Vega (Gabriel), 227 
 Latin used by Spanish writers, 10, 
 132 
 
 words and constructions intro- 
 duced into Castilian, 76, 107 
 Latiniparla, 125 
 Laurel de A polo, 172 
 Lazarillo de Tortnes, 88 
 
 (continuations of), 90 
 Lebrija (Antonio de), 135 
 Legends of Becquer, 251 
 Le6n (Luis de), 100, 126-130, 182 
 Lepanto (battle of), 140 
 
 manco de, 141 
 Le Sage and the picaresque novel, 
 
 81 
 Let r Mas, 126 
 
 Letter to the Constable of Portugal, 75 
 Lindo Don Diego, 213 
 Lingua Romana Rustica, 11 
 Lipsius (Justus), correspondence with 
 Quevedo, 175 
 
 Liras, 117 
 
 Lista (Alberto), 242 
 
 Literary Republic, 134 
 
 Lives of celebrated Spaniards, 241 
 
 Lo Desconort, 57 
 
 Loas, 189 
 
 Lope de Rueda, 64, 67 
 
 Lope de Vega, 146, 159-173 
 
 feud with Cervantes, 150, 154, 
 172 
 
 on Culteranismo, 125 
 Lopez de Ayala (Pero), 31-33, 35 
 Lopez de Ubeda, 91 
 Lost Sheep {Auto of the), 65 
 Lucas Fernandez, 62 
 Lujan de Saavedra, 91 
 Lull (Ramon), 57, 95 
 Luzan (Ignacio), 231 
 Lyric forms introduced, 70 
 
 Maci'as el Enamorado, 73 
 
 Madre Naturaleza, 254 
 
 Magian Kings {Mystery of the) 15, 
 
 16. 59 
 Mdgico Prodi gioso {El), 189 
 Malaguenas, 267 
 Malon de Chaide, 131 
 Manchegos (character of the), 149 
 Manrique (Jorge de), Las Cop las, 77 
 Marcos de Obregdn, 91, 93 
 Mariana (Juan de), 103 
 
 (history of), 103 
 
 political tracts, 103 
 Martinez de la Rosa, 242 
 Martorell (Joanot), 56 
 Mayans y Siscar (Gregorio), 135, 231 
 Mena (Juan de), 35, 75 
 Menendez y Pelayo (Marcelino), 256, 
 
 257 
 Menteur {Le), 211 
 Mesonero Romanos, p. 250 
 Mester de clerecla, 17 
 
 de yogi aria, 17 
 Milagros del Desprecio, 212 
 Mingo Revulgo {Coplas de), 60 
 Miranda (Luis de), 66 
 Molina (Argote de), 231 
 Monserrate {El), 225 
 Montalvan (Juan Perez de), 214 
 Montemayor (Jorge de), 86 
 Moors, conquest of Spain by, 4 
 
 mild rule of, 5 
 
286 
 
 SPANISH LITERATURE 
 
 Moral aspect of Calderon's plays, 
 
 194- 195 
 Morality of the Spanish drama, 220 
 
 Moratfn (Leandro Fernandez), 233 
 
 (Nicolas Fernandez), 232 
 
 Morel Fatio (A.), 210 
 
 Moreto (Augustfn), 212-213 
 
 Moriscos (Spanish hatred of), 107 
 
 Moro expdsito, 242 
 
 Mosquea (La), 225 
 
 Moza de Cdntaro (La), 165 
 
 Muntaner (Ramon de), 56 
 
 Mysticism, 94-97 
 
 Mystics (literary qualities of the 
 
 Spanish), 96 
 
 Nacimientos, 186 
 Na?nes of Christ, 100 
 National and euphuistic schools of 
 literature, 135 
 
 school of poets, 117, 182, 184 
 Nicolas Antonio, 230 
 Noche (La), 261 
 Nocturnes, 199 
 Novelas Ejemplares, 93, 146 
 Novel of adventures, 93, 209 
 
 (historical), 92 
 
 (modern), 248 
 Novels (allegorical, pastoral, and 
 
 picaresque), 80-93 
 Numancia (La), 144 
 Nunez de Arce, 257 
 
 Ocampo (Florian de), 102 
 Octavas reales, 224 
 Oda d la P atria, 245 
 Ode to Retirevient, 128 
 
 to a Calm Night, 129 
 
 to Music, 129 
 
 to the Ascension, 129 
 Odes of Quintana, 241 
 Olivares and Quevedo, 180 
 Olives (The), 64 
 Oha (Pedro de), 227 
 Ordculo of Gracian, 137 
 Ordonez de Montalvo, 41 
 Origen y Definiciones de la Necedad, 
 
 184 
 Orlgenes de la lengua Castcllana, 
 
 135- 231 
 Osuna (patron of Quevedo), 179 
 Ottava rima in the drama, 167 
 
 Palmerin of England, 43 
 Para algmios, 214 
 
 si, 214 
 
 todos, 214 
 Paso Honroso (Crdnica del), 39 
 Pasos, 64, 65 
 Pastor de Filida, 87 
 Pastoral novels, 86, 87 
 Pas tores de BeUn (Los), 169 
 Patriotism on the stage, 200 
 Pasos de Ulloa (Los), 254 
 Pedro the Cruel (Chronicle of), 35 
 Pelayo, 243 
 Pepita Jimenez, 252 
 Pequefieces, 255 
 
 Pe'rdida del Rey Don Sebastian, 119 
 Pereda (Jos6 M. ), 253 
 Peregrino en su Patria, 170 
 
 Indiano (EJ), 228 
 Perez (Alonzo), 87 
 
 (Antonio), in 
 
 del Pulgar (Hernan), 38 
 
 Galdos, 253 
 Perfecta Casada (La), 101 
 Pero Nifio (Chronicle of Don), 38 
 Pirsiles y Sigismunda, 156 
 Peteneras, 268 
 Philosophical drama, 189 
 Philosophy, 246 
 Picara Justin a (I^a), 91 
 Picaresco (meaning of), 88 
 Pldcida y Victor iano, 61 
 Poemas d lo divino, 171 
 Poet as Anteriores a I Siglo XV., 231 
 Poetica (La) de Luzan, 231 
 Poets of the eighteenth century, 232 
 
 of the Golden Age, 113-131 
 Political Undertakings or Ideal Chris- 
 tian Prince, 134 
 Politics of God (The), 180, 182 
 Polyphemus of G6ngora, 126 
 Popular poetry, 267 
 Prayer and Meditation, 100 
 Premio del bien hablar, 163 
 Princesse d Elide, 213 
 Propaladia of Torres Naharro, 63 
 Prophecy of the Tagus, 129 
 Protestantism comparedwith Catholic- 
 ism, 247 
 Provencal influence on Spanish litera- 
 ture, 31, 54, 70, 74 
 Proverbs, 137 
 
INDEX 
 
 287 
 
 Psalms (translation of, by Luis de 
 Leon), 129 
 
 QUERELLAS DE ALFONSO EL SABIO, 
 20 
 
 Quevedo (Francisco de), 122, 128, 
 
 133. IS 2 - 174-184 
 Quintana (Manuel Jos£), 232, 241 
 Quintillas, 117 
 
 Rabbi Don Sem Tob, 29 
 
 Raymondo Lull, 258 
 
 Redondillas, 61, 167 
 
 Refraues, 137 
 
 Relaci6n de la Distruicidn de las 
 
 Indias, in 
 Relaciones de Antonio Perez, in 
 Religious plays, 220 
 Reloj de Prhicipes, 133 
 Revival of literature, 247 
 Rhyme (Asonante), 44 
 Rica Hembra (La), 266 
 Rimado de Palacio, 32 
 Rinconete y Cortadillo, 88, 146 
 Rivadeneyra (Biblioteca de), 257 
 Rivas (Duke of), 242 
 Robles (Isidro de), 93 
 Rodriguez del Padrdn, 81 
 Roig (Jaume), 56 
 
 Rojas (Augustfn de), Viage e?itre- 
 tenido, 68 
 
 (Fernando de), 82 
 
 (Francisco de), 216 
 Roman occupation, 2 
 Romance, 44 
 
 Romancero General, 45, 46 
 Romances of Chivalry, 35, 39, 40-43 
 Rubi (Tomas Rodriguez), 265 
 Rufo (Juan), 226 
 Ruiz (Juan), 27 
 
 Saavedra (Antonio de), 228 
 
 Fajardo (Diego), 134 
 Saineles, 234 
 
 St. Isidor of Seville, 11, 22 
 St. Mary the Egyptian (Life of), 15,16 
 
 Magdalene (Life of), 131 
 St. Thomas of Villanueva (Life of), 
 
 180 
 Salas (Yagiie de), 215 
 Sancho el Bravo (Castigos y Docu- 
 ment os), 23 
 
 San Francisco de Sena, 213 
 Isidro Labrador, 171, 199 
 San Juan de la Cruz, 130 
 Pedro (Diego de), 81 
 
 Santa Barbara, 202 
 
 Santa Teresa, 94, 98, 130, 181 
 
 Santiago (patron of Spain), 181 
 
 Santillana (Marques de), 60, 72, 137 
 
 Sarmiento (El Padre), 239 
 
 Seguidillas, 268 
 
 Segura (Juan Lorenzo), 17 
 
 Selections from the Spanish Poets, 241 
 
 Selgas (Jos6), 261 
 
 Sempere (Jer6nimo), 226 
 
 Serranillas, 28, 74 
 
 Shepherds xvho became Courtiers, 61 
 
 Si de las Ninas (El), 234 
 
 Siervo libre de A?nor (Et), 81 
 
 Siete Partidas, 19, 34 
 
 Siglo de Oro, 87 
 
 Soledades of G6ngora, 126 
 
 Soliloquios amorosos de un Alma d 
 Dios, 171 
 
 Soli's (Antonio de), 108 
 
 Solitario y su Tiempo (El), 250, 256 
 
 Sombrero de ires Picos (El), 253 
 
 Sonnet introduced into Spanish, 73, 
 114 
 in the drama, 167 
 
 Sonnets of Lope, 171 
 
 Sotilezas, 253 
 
 Spanish language (formation of), 10 
 
 Spanish Tales, 249 
 
 Stock characters of the stage, 219, 220 
 
 Student's Song for asking Alms, 28 
 
 Suehos (Los), 176, 180 
 
 Swift compared with Quevedo, 183 
 
 Tamayo y Baus, 265 
 
 Tan to por Ciento, 266 
 
 Tarascas, 186 
 
 Tasso (opinion of Amadis de Gaula), 
 
 4i 
 
 Teatro critico, 239 
 Tejedor de Segovia (El), 211 
 Tellez (Gabriel), 203-210 
 Tesoro (El), 19 
 Tia y Sobrin a, 213 
 Timoneda (Juan de), 65 
 Tirant lo Blanch, 41, 56 
 Tirso de Molina, 203-210, 215 
 Tome" de Burguillos, 172 
 
288 
 
 SPANISH LITERA TURE 
 
 Torres Naharro, 62 
 
 Translations of the classics by Que- 
 
 vedo, 176 
 Trato de Argel {El), 145 
 T rescientas (Las), 75 
 Troubadours, 54 
 Trueba (Telesforo), 249 
 
 Universal Drama (The), 265 
 
 Yaldes (Armando Palacio), 254 
 
 (Juan de), 40, 45, 82, 114, 135 
 Valera (Juan), 97 note, 252 
 Vaqueiras, 28, 74 
 Various Prodigies of Love, 93 
 Vasco de Lobeyra, 41 
 Verdad Sospechosa (La), 211 
 Vergonzoso en Palacio (El), 209 
 Viage del Par?? a so, 153 
 
 Vicente Espinel, 91 
 
 Vida es Sueiio (La), 189, 190 
 
 Villa?icicos, 61 
 
 (of Lope), 169 
 Villasandino (Alvarez de), 71 
 Villaviciosa (Jose" de), 225 
 Villegas (Antonio de), 92 
 
 (Manuel de), 123 
 Villena (Marques de), 72, 73 
 Viru£s (Crist6bal de), 225 
 Visidn de F?-ay Afarti??, 258 
 Visio?is (The V. of Quevedo), 176 
 Viudo (El), 62 
 
 Yanez (Rodrigo), 30 
 
 Zapata (Luis de), 226 
 Zorrilla (Jos6), 259 
 Zurita (Geronimo de), 102 
 
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