^J.l
 
 HISTORY OF SPANISH LITERATURE. 
 
 VOL. II.
 
 HISTORY 
 
 SPANISH LITERATURE. 
 
 GEORGE TICKNOR. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. II. 
 
 StXTH AAIERICAN EDITION, CORRECTED AND ENLARGED. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY.
 
 Copyriglit, 1SC3, 
 
 bt ticknor and fields 
 
 Copyright, UTl, 
 
 By anna TICKNOH. 
 
 Copyright, ISid, 
 
 By anna E. ticknor. 
 
 Al! rights reserved.
 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. II. 
 
 SECOND PERIOD 
 
 ( CONTINUED. ) 
 
 CHAPTEK V 
 
 Didactic Poetri 
 
 AND Pki 
 
 Early Didactic Poetry 
 
 . 3 
 
 Luis de Escobar 
 
 4 
 
 Alonso de Corelas 
 
 . 5 
 
 Gonzalez de la Torre 
 
 5 
 
 Didactic Prose . 
 
 . 6 
 
 Francisco de Villalobos . 
 
 6 
 
 Eernan Perez de Oliva 
 
 . 9 
 
 Juan de Sedeiio 
 
 11 
 
 Cervantes de Salazar . 
 
 . 11 
 
 Luis Mexia .... 
 
 11 
 
 Pedro de XavaiTa 
 
 . 12 
 
 Pedro Mexia .... 
 
 12 
 
 (Jeroninio de Urrea 
 
 . 13 
 
 Palacios Rubios 
 
 15 
 
 Alexio de Vanegas 
 
 . 15 
 
 .Juan de Avila 
 
 15 
 
 Antonio de Guevara .... 
 
 15 
 
 His Relox de Principes . 
 
 16 
 
 His D^cada de los Cfearcs . 
 
 18 
 
 His Epistolas 
 
 19 
 
 His other Works 
 
 20 
 
 The Dialogo de las Leufruas . 
 
 21 
 
 Its probable Author .... 
 
 22 
 
 State of the Castilian Langiiage from 
 
 
 the Time of Juan de Mena 
 
 25 
 
 Contributions to it . 
 
 25 
 
 Dictionaries and Grammars 
 
 26 
 
 The Language formed 
 
 27 
 
 The Dialects 
 
 2S 
 
 The Pure Castilian .... 
 
 28 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Historical Litkratcre. 
 
 Chronicling Period gone by 
 Antonio do Guevara 
 Florian de Ocampo 
 Pero Mexia 
 
 -*.ccounts of the Xew World 
 Fernando Cortes 
 Francisco Lopez de Gomara 
 Bemal Diaz 
 
 Gonzalo Fernandez de Oviedo . . SS 
 
 His Historia de las Indias . . 39 
 
 His Quinquagenas . . . .42 
 Bartolom(5 de las Casa« ... 42 
 
 His Brevlsima Relacion . . .45 
 
 His Historia de las Indias . , 46 
 
 Vaca, Xerez, and Carate . . .47 
 
 Approach to Regular Histoiy . . 48 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Theatre in the Time of Charles the Fifth, and during the First Part- 
 OF the Reign of Philip the Second. 
 
 Drama opposed by the Church 
 Inquisition mterferes 
 Religious Dramas continued 
 Secular Plays, CastUlejo, Oliva 
 
 49 Juan de Paris 
 
 49 Jaume de Huete 
 
 50 ; Agostin Ortiz 
 
 51 Popular Drama attempted 
 
 62 
 
 54 
 
 55
 
 VI 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 T.ope de RueJa .... 
 
 . 56 
 
 His Two Dialogues in Verse 
 
 . 63 
 
 His Four Conieduu . 
 
 57 
 
 His insufficient Apparatus 
 
 64 
 
 Los EiigaTios .... 
 
 5" 
 
 He begins the Popular Drama . 
 
 . 66 
 
 Medora 
 
 58 
 
 .Tuan de Timoneda . 
 
 66 
 
 Kufeinia ..... 
 
 . 58 
 
 His Cornelia .... 
 
 . 67 
 
 Armeliua .... 
 
 58 
 
 His Menennos .... 
 
 68 
 
 His Two Pastoral Colloquies 
 
 . 59 
 
 His Blind Beggars 
 
 . 68 
 
 His Ten Pasos 
 
 G2 
 
 
 
 CHAPTKl! VIII. 
 The.\ti:e, coxfLLnKi). 
 
 Followers of Lope de Rneda 
 Alonso de la Vega, Cisneros . 
 Attempts at Seville 
 Juaii de la Cuevsi . 
 Romero de Zepeda 
 Attempts at Valencia 
 Cristoval de ^'irues 
 Translations from the Ancients 
 Villalobos, Oliva . 
 Boscan, AbriL .... 
 
 (Jcronimo Bermudez . 
 Lupercio de Argensola 
 Spanish Drama to this Time 
 The Attempts to form it few . 
 The Appai-atus imperfect . 
 Connection with the Hospitals 
 Court-yards in Madrid 
 Dramas have no uniform Character 
 A Xational Drama demanded 
 
 78 
 80 
 83 
 83 
 84 
 
 87 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Luis DE Leon. 
 
 Religious Element in Spanish Litera- 
 ture 
 
 Luis de Leon 
 
 His Birth and Training 
 
 Professor at Salamanca . 
 
 His Version of Solomon's Song . 
 
 His Persecution for it . . . 
 
 Summoned before the Inquisition 
 
 Imprisoned ..... 
 
 Judgment 94 
 
 
 Return to Salamanca . 
 
 . 96 
 
 89 
 
 Work on the Canticles . 
 
 97 
 
 89 
 
 His Names of Christ . 
 
 . 98 
 
 89 
 
 His Perfect Wife . 
 
 100 
 
 90 
 
 His Exposition of Job . 
 
 . 100 
 
 91 
 
 His Death . . . . 
 
 . 101 
 
 91 
 
 His Poetry .... 
 
 . 102 
 
 92 
 
 His Translations 
 
 103 
 
 93 
 
 His Original Poetrj' . 
 
 . 104 
 
 94 
 
 His Character . . . . 
 
 106 
 
 CH APT Kit X. 
 Miguel de Cbrv^vntes Saavedra. 
 
 His Family 
 
 His Birth 
 
 His F.ducatioJi . 
 
 His first published Verses 
 
 Goes to Ital}' 
 
 Becomes a Soldier 
 
 Fights at Lepanto 
 
 And at Tunis . 
 
 Is captured at Sea 
 
 Is H Slave at Algiers 
 
 His cniid (;;iiitivitv . 
 
 107 
 
 His Release .... 
 
 114 
 
 108 1 His desolate Condition 
 
 . 115 
 
 109 
 
 Serves in Portugal. 
 
 116 
 
 10:) 
 
 His Oalatea .... 
 
 . 116 
 
 110 
 
 His Marriage .... 
 
 119 
 
 no 
 
 His Literary P'riends . 
 
 . 120 
 
 111 
 
 His First Dramas . ... 
 
 120 
 
 112 
 
 His Trato de Argel . 
 
 . 122 
 
 112 
 
 His Xumantia 
 
 125 
 
 112 
 
 Character of these Dramas 
 
 . 131 
 
 113 
 

 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 VU 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 Cervantes, continued. 
 
 He goes to Seville 
 
 . 132 
 
 His Life tliere . . . . 
 
 133 
 
 Asks Employment in America . 
 
 . 133 
 
 Short Poems 
 
 134 
 
 Tradition from La Manclia 
 
 . 135 
 
 He goes to Valladolid . 
 
 136 
 
 First Part of Don Quixote 
 
 . 137 
 
 He goes to Madrid . . . . 
 
 137 
 
 Relations with Poets there 
 
 . 138 
 
 With Lope de \'ega .... 13H 
 
 His Novelas I4i) 
 
 His Viage al Parnaso . . . 145 
 
 His Adjunta 146 
 
 His Eight Comedias .... 148 
 
 His Eight Entrenieses . . . 151 
 
 Second Part of Don Quixote . . 154 
 
 His Sickness 155 
 
 His Death 156 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Cervantes, concluded. 
 
 His Persiles y Sigismunda . . 158 
 
 His Don Quixote, First Part . 161 
 
 His Purpose in writing it . . . 162 
 
 Passion for Romances of Chivalry 164 
 
 He destroys it 165 
 
 Character of the First Part . . 166 
 
 Avellaneda's Second Part . . . 168 
 
 Its Character 169 
 
 Cervantes' s Satire on it . . . 170 
 
 His own Second Part . . . 171 
 
 Its Character 172 
 
 Don Quixote and Sancho . . . 173 
 
 Blemishes in the Don Quixote . 175 
 
 Its Merits and Fame .... 178 
 
 Claims of Cervantes . . . 178 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 Lope Felix de Vega Carpio. 
 
 His Birth 
 
 . 180 
 
 His Education . . . . 
 
 181 
 
 A Soldier 
 
 . 183 
 
 Patronized by Manrique 
 
 183 
 
 Bachelor at Alcala . 
 
 . 183 
 
 His Dorothea .... 
 
 184 
 
 Secretary to Alva 
 
 . 184 
 
 His Arcadia .... 
 
 185 
 
 Marries 
 
 . 187 
 
 Is exiled for a Duel 
 
 188 
 
 Life at Valencia .... 
 
 . 188 
 
 Establishes himself at JIadrid 
 
 189 
 
 Death of his Wife 
 
 Serves in the Armada . 
 
 ]\Iarries again 
 
 His Children . 
 
 Death of his Sons 
 
 Death of his Wife . 
 
 Becomes a Priest 
 
 His Poem of San Isidro 
 
 His Hermosura de Angelica 
 
 His Dragontea 
 
 His Peregrine en su Patria 
 
 His Jerusalen Conquistada 
 
 189 
 190 
 192 
 192 
 193 
 193 
 194 
 195 
 19S 
 201 
 203 
 204 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Lope de Vega, continued. 
 
 His Relations with the Church 
 
 207 
 
 His Pastores de Belen 
 
 . 207 
 
 Various Works . . . . 
 
 209 
 
 Beatification of San Isidro 
 
 . 210 
 
 Canonization of San Isidro . 
 
 214 
 
 Tome de Burguillos . 
 
 . 215 
 
 His Gatomachia . . . . 
 
 215 
 
 Various Works .... 
 
 . 216 
 
 His Novelas 
 
 217 
 
 He acts as an Inquisitor 
 His Religious Poetry 
 His Corona Tragica . 
 His Laurel de Apolo 
 His Dorotea 
 His Last Works 
 His Illness and Death 
 His Burial 
 His Will . 
 
 218 
 219 
 220 
 221 
 222 
 222 
 223 
 224 
 225
 
 YlU 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 C'HAPTEU XV. 
 Lope dk Vega, continued. 
 
 ■Hi> Miscellaneous 'U'orks 
 Their Character 
 Hi-; earliest Dramas . 
 At Valencia . 
 State of the Theatre . 
 Kl Verdadero Aniaute . 
 El Pastoral de Jacinto 
 His Mijral Plays 
 The Soul's Voyage 
 The Prodigal Son . 
 The Marriage of the Soul 
 The Theatre at Madrid . 
 His published Dramas 
 
 . 227 
 
 Their jireat Number . 
 
 . 239 
 
 228 
 
 His Dramatic Purpose . 
 
 241 
 
 . 229 
 
 Varieties in his Plays 
 
 . 243 
 
 230 
 
 Comedias de Capa y Espada . 
 
 243 
 
 . 231 
 
 Their Character • . • 
 
 . 244 
 
 232 
 
 Their Number 
 
 245 
 
 . 233 
 
 El Azero de Madrid . 
 
 . 245 
 
 233 
 
 La Noche de San Juan . 
 
 249 
 
 . 234 
 
 Festival of the Count Duke 
 
 . 353 
 
 235 
 
 La Boba para los Otros . 
 
 254 
 
 . 236 
 
 El Premio del Bien Hablar 
 
 . 255 
 
 238 
 
 Various Plays 
 
 255 
 
 . 238 
 
 
 
 CHAFTt 
 
 K XVI. 
 
 
 Comedias Heroicas . 
 
 Roma Abrasada 
 
 EI Principe Perfeto . 
 
 El Nuevo Mundo . 
 
 El Castigo sin Venganza 
 
 Lope de Vega, contixued. 
 
 257 
 258 
 260 
 264 
 266 
 
 La Estrella de Sevilla . . . 270' 
 
 National Subjects .... 271 
 
 Various Plays .... 271 
 
 Character of the Heroic Drama . 273 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 Lope de Vega, continued. 
 
 Dramas on Common Life . 
 El Cuerdo en Casa 
 La Donzella Teodor . 
 Cautivos de Argel . 
 Three Classes of Secular Plays 
 The Influence of the Church . 
 Religious Plays . . . . 
 Plays founded on the Bible . 
 El Nacimiento de Christo . 
 Other such Plays . 
 Comedi.as de Santos . 
 Several such Plays 
 
 275 
 
 San Isidro de Madrid 
 
 . 290 
 
 275 
 
 Autos Sacramentales 
 
 292 
 
 277 
 
 Festival of the Corpus Christi . 
 
 . 293 
 
 279 
 
 Number of Lope's Autos 
 
 295 
 
 281 
 
 Their Form .... 
 
 . 296 
 
 281 
 
 Their Loas .... 
 
 297 
 
 282 
 
 Their Entremeses 
 
 . 297 
 
 283 
 
 The Autos themselves . 
 
 299 
 
 283 
 
 Lope's Secular Entremeses 
 
 . 301 
 
 287 
 
 Popular Tone of his Drama . 
 
 302 
 
 288 
 
 His Eclogues .... 
 
 . 303 
 
 289 
 
 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 Lope de Vega, concluded. 
 
 Variety in the Forms of his Dramas 
 Characteristics of all of them 
 
 Personages 
 
 Dialogue 
 
 Irregular i'lots 
 
 Hi'turv di-rcgarded 
 
 305 
 
 Geography. 
 
 . 308 
 
 305 
 
 Morals .... 
 
 309 
 
 306 
 
 Dramatized Novelle . 
 
 . 309 
 
 306 
 
 Comic Underplot . . 
 
 310 
 
 306 
 
 Graciosos .... 
 
 . 311 
 
 307 
 
 Poetical Stvle 
 
 312
 
 Various Measures 
 Hallnd Poetry in tliem . 
 I'opular Air of everything 
 His Success at Home 
 His Success abroad . 
 
 CONT 
 
 . 318 
 
 ENTS. 
 
 U\^ large Income . 
 
 IX 
 
 318 
 
 313 
 
 Still he is Poor .... 
 
 . 318 
 
 . 315 
 
 Great Amount of his Works . 
 
 319 
 
 31G 
 
 Spirit of Improvisation 
 
 . 320 
 
 . 316 
 
 
 
 Birth anil Training . 
 
 . 322 
 
 Exile 
 
 323 
 
 Public Service in Sicily 
 
 . 324 
 
 In Naples . . • . 
 
 324 
 
 Persecution at Home. 
 
 . 325 
 
 ]\Iarries 
 
 325 
 
 Persecution again 
 
 . 325 
 
 His Sufferings and Death 
 
 327 
 
 Variety of his Works 
 
 . 327 
 
 Many suppressed . 
 
 327 
 
 His Poetry 
 
 . 328 
 
 CHAPTEPt XIX. 
 
 Francisco de Quevedo y Villegas. 
 
 Its Characteristics . 
 
 Cultismo 
 
 El Bachiller de la*Torre 
 
 His Prose Works 
 
 Paul the Sharper . 
 
 Various Tracts . 
 
 The Knight of the Forceps 
 
 La Fortuna con Seso . 
 
 Visions . 
 
 Quevedo's Character 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The DRAjrA of Lope's School. 
 
 Madrid the Capital . 
 Its Effect on the Drama 
 Damian de Vegas 
 Francisco de Tarrega 
 His Enemiga Favorable 
 Gaspar de Aguilar 
 His Mercader Amante 
 His Suerte sin Esperanza 
 Guillen de Castro 
 His Dramas . 
 His Mai Casados 
 His Don Quixote . 
 His Piedad y .Justicia 
 His Santa Barbara 
 His Mocedades del Cid 
 
 . 345 
 
 Corneille's Cid . . . . 
 
 346 
 
 Guillen's Cid .... 
 
 . 346 
 
 Other Plays of Guillen . 
 
 347 
 
 Luis Velez de Guevara 
 
 . 348 
 
 Mas pesa el Rey que la Sangi-e 
 
 349 
 
 Other Plays of Guevara . 
 
 . 349 
 
 .Juan Perez de Montalvan 
 
 351 
 
 His San Patricio 
 
 . 352 
 
 His Orfeo 
 
 353 
 
 His Dramas .... 
 
 . 354 
 
 His Amantes de Teruel 
 
 354 
 
 His Don Carlos .... 
 
 . 355 
 
 His Autos ..... 
 
 355 
 
 His Theory of the Drama . 
 
 . 357 
 
 His Success 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 Drama of Lope's School, concluded. 
 
 Tirso del Molina 
 
 His Dramas . 
 
 His Burlador de Sevilla 
 
 His Don Gil . 
 
 His Vergonzoso en Palacio 
 
 His Theory of the Drama 
 
 Antonio Mira de Mescua . 
 
 His Dramas and Poems 
 
 Joseph de Valdivielso 
 
 379 
 379 
 380 
 381 
 383 
 386 
 386 
 387 
 
 His Autos 
 
 His Religious Dramas 
 
 Antonio de Mendoza 
 
 Ruiz de Alarcon 
 
 His Dramas . 
 
 His Texedor de Segovia 
 
 His Verdad Sospechosa . 
 
 Other Plays 
 
 Belmonle, Cordero
 
 X 
 
 CONTEXTS. 
 
 Kiiriiiuez, Villaizan . 
 S:iii<liez, Herrera . 
 Barliadillo, Solorzano 
 I'u In<renio . 
 El Diablo Predicador 
 
 395 
 396 
 396 
 397 
 398 
 
 Opposition to Lope's School . . 401 
 
 By Men of Learning .... 401 
 
 By the Chuvcli . ... 402 
 
 The Drama triumphs . . 404 
 
 Lope's Fame 405 
 
 C'lIAPTKi; XXII. 
 Pedro Caldeiion de la Bakc.v. 
 
 Birth and Family .... 407 
 
 Kducation 408 
 
 Festivals of San Isidro * . . .409 
 
 Serves as a Soldier . . . 409 
 Writes for the Stage . . . .410 
 
 Patronized by Philip the Fourth . 410 
 
 Rebellion in Catalonia . . . 410 
 
 Controls the Theatre . . . 411 
 
 Filters the Church .... 411 
 
 Less favored by Charles the Second 412 
 
 Death and Burial .... 413 
 
 Person and Character . . . 414 
 
 His Works 415 
 
 His Dramas - 416 
 
 Many falsely ascribed to him 
 The Numi)er of the Genuine 
 His Autos Sacramentales . 
 Feast of tlie Cdrpus Christi 
 His different Autos . 
 His Divino Orfeo . 
 Popularity of his Autos . 
 His Heligious Plays 
 Troubles with the Church . 
 Ecclesiastics write Plays 
 Caldcron's Sun Patricii) 
 His Devocion de la Cruz 
 His Magico Prodigioso 
 Other shnilar Plays 
 
 417 
 420 
 421 
 422 
 424 
 425 
 428 
 429 
 430 
 430 
 431 
 433 
 434 
 437 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 Caldekox. continued. 
 
 Characteristics of his Drama 
 Trusts to the Story 
 Sacrifices much to it . 
 Dramatic Interest strong 
 Love, .Jealousy, and Honor 
 
 439 
 440 
 441 
 442 
 
 Amar despues de la Muerte . 
 Kl Medico de su Honra 
 El Pintor de su Deshonra 
 El Mavor Jlonstruo los Zelos 
 
 443 I El Principe Constante 
 
 443 
 447 
 450 
 451 
 456 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 Caldehox, concluded. 
 
 Comedias de Capa y Espada . . 461 
 
 Antes que Todo as mi Dama . . 462 
 
 La Dama Duende .... 463 
 
 La Vaiida y la Flor . . . 406 
 
 Various Sources of Calderon's Plots 469 
 
 Castilian Tone everywhere . . 472 
 
 Exaggerated Sense of Honor . . 473 
 
 Domestic Authority . . . 473 
 
 Duels 4.74 
 
 Immoral Tendency of his Dramas 475 
 
 Attacked 475 
 
 Defended . . . • 475 
 
 Calderon's courtly Tone . . . 476 
 
 His Stj'le and Versification . . 478 
 
 His long Success .... 480 
 
 Changes the Drama little . 481 
 But gives it a lofty Tone . . .482 
 
 His Dramatic Character . . 483 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 DkAMA ok CALDErtnx's ScHOOL. 
 
 Most Brilliant Period . 
 Agustin Moreto 
 His Dramas 
 
 486 
 486 
 487 
 
 Figuron Plays . . 
 
 El Lindo Don Diego . 
 El Desden con el Desdeu 
 
 488 
 488 
 489
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 XI 
 
 Francisco de TJoxns . 
 
 . 491 
 
 His Dramas .... 
 
 491 
 
 Del Rey abaxo Niiii^nno 
 
 . 492 
 
 Several Authors to one Play . 
 
 495 
 
 Alvaro Cubillo .... 
 
 . 495 
 
 Leyba and Cancer y Velasco 
 
 497 
 
 Enriquez Gomez 
 
 . 497 
 
 Sigler and Zabaleta 
 
 498 
 
 Fernando de Zarate . 
 
 . 498 
 
 Miguel de l>arrios . 
 
 499 
 
 Diamante 
 
 . 499 
 
 ilonteser, Cuellar . 
 
 500 
 
 Juan de la Hoz .... 
 
 . 501 
 
 Juan de Matos Fragoso . 
 
 502 
 
 Sebastian de Villaviciosa 
 
 Antonio de SoKs 
 
 Francisco Banzes C-andamo 
 
 Zarzuelas . 
 
 Opera at Madrid 
 
 Antonio de Zamora . 
 
 Lanini, Martinez . 
 
 Rosete, Villegas 
 
 Joseph de Canizares 
 
 Decline of the Drama 
 
 Vera y Villaroel 
 
 Inez de la Cruz . 
 
 Tellez de Azevedo 
 
 Old Drama of Lope and of Calderon 
 
 502 
 
 . 504 
 
 10 . . 500 
 
 . 508 
 
 509 
 
 . 510 
 
 511 
 
 . 511 
 
 511 
 
 . 5i:j 
 
 514 
 
 . 514 
 
 514 
 
 f Calderon 514 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Nationality of the Drama . 
 The Autor of a Company 
 Relations with the Dramatists 
 Actors, their Number . 
 The most distinguished 
 Their Character and hard Life 
 Exhibitions in the Daytime 
 Poor Scenery and Properties 
 The Stage .... 
 The Audience 
 The Mosqueteros 
 The Gradas, and Cazuela 
 The Aposentos . 
 Entrance-money 
 Rudeness of the Audiences 
 Honors to the Authors . 
 Play-bills .... 
 
 Old Theatre. 
 
 
 . 515 
 
 Titles of Plays 
 
 526 
 
 516 
 
 Representations .... 
 
 . 527 
 
 . 516 
 
 Loa 
 
 527 
 
 518 
 
 Ballad 
 
 . 528 
 
 . 519 
 
 First .Jornada 
 
 529 
 
 520 
 
 First Entremes .... 
 
 . 530 
 
 . 522 
 
 Second Jornada and Entremes 
 
 531 
 
 522 
 
 Third Jornada and Sajmete 
 
 . 531 
 
 . 523 
 
 Dancing .... 
 
 531 
 
 523 
 
 Ballads 
 
 . 532 
 
 . 523 
 
 Xacaras .... 
 
 532 
 
 524 
 
 Zarabandas .... 
 
 . 5G3 
 
 . 524 
 
 Popular Character of the Drama 
 
 534 
 
 525 
 
 Great Number of Authors 
 
 . 53.3 
 
 . 525 
 
 Royal Patronage . 
 
 53? 
 
 526 
 
 Great Number of Dramas 
 
 . 538 
 
 . 526 
 
 All National .... 
 
 539 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 ISTORICAI. AND NARRATIVE POEMS. 
 
 Old Epic Tendencies .... 
 
 541 
 
 Galn-iel Lasso de la Vega . 
 
 . 555 
 
 Revived in the Time of Charles the 
 
 
 Antonio de Saavedra 
 
 555 
 
 Fiftli 
 
 542 
 
 Juan de Castellanos . 
 
 555 
 
 Hieronimo Sempere 
 
 542 
 
 Centenera .... 
 
 556 
 
 Luis de Capata 
 
 543 
 
 Caspar de Villagra 
 
 . 557 
 
 Diego Ximenez de Ayllon 
 
 544 
 
 Religious NaiTative Poems . 
 
 558 
 
 Hippolito Sanz 
 
 544 
 
 Hernandez Blasco 
 
 . 558 
 
 Espinosa and Coloma . 
 
 545 
 
 Giibriel de Mata 
 
 558 
 
 Alonso de Ercilla .... 
 
 545 
 
 Cristoval de Virues . 
 
 . 558 
 
 His Araucana .... 
 
 548 
 
 His Monserrate 
 
 559 
 
 Diego de Osorio 
 
 552 
 
 Nicholas Bravo .... 
 
 . 560 
 
 Pedro de Ofia .... 
 
 554 
 
 Joseph de Valdivielso . 
 
 560
 
 xu 
 
 CONTEXTS. 
 
 Diego de Hojeda . 
 
 561 
 
 Hernando Dominguez Camargo . 
 
 o6a 
 
 His Christiada . . . . 
 
 . 561 
 
 Juan de Encisso y iIon(;on 
 
 . 563 
 
 Alonso Diaz .... 
 
 562 
 
 Imaginative Epics . . . . 
 
 564 
 
 Antonio de Escobar . 
 
 . 562 
 
 Orlando Fnrioso 
 
 . 564 
 
 Alonso de Azevcdo 
 
 562 
 
 Nicolas Espinosa . . . . 
 
 564 
 
 Caiidivilla Santaren . 
 
 . 562 
 
 Martin de Holea 
 
 567 
 
 Kodrijiuez de Vargas 
 
 563 
 
 Garrido de ^'illena 
 
 567 
 
 •Facobo L'ziel . . . . 
 
 . 563 
 
 Agustin Alonso .... 
 
 . 567 
 
 Sebastian de Nieva Calvo 
 
 563 
 
 Luis Harahona de Soto . 
 
 568 
 
 Diiran Vivas . . • . 
 
 . 563 
 
 His Liigrimas de Angdlica 
 
 . 568 
 
 •Uian Davila .... 
 
 563 
 
 Bernardo de Balbuena . 
 
 569 
 
 Autouio Enriquez Gomez . 
 
 . 563 
 
 His Bernardo .... 
 
 . 569 
 
 CHAPTER XXVllI. 
 
 Subjects from Antiquity 
 Boscan, Vendoza, Silvestre 
 Montemayor, Villegas 
 I'erez, Romero de Cepeda 
 Fabulas, Gongora 
 Villaniediana, Pantaleon 
 Moucayo, Villalpando 
 ^liscellaneous Subjects . 
 Yague de Salas . 
 Miguel de Silveira . 
 Fr. Lopez de Zarate . 
 Mock-heroic Poems 
 Cosme de Aldana 
 Cintio Merctisso 
 X'illaviciosa 
 (iatomachia . 
 Heroic Poems . 
 
 AL A>D Nai:i:ative I'oiois, concluded. 
 
 
 
 , 571 
 
 Don John of Austria 
 
 582 
 
 e . 
 
 571 
 
 Hicronimo de Cortereal 
 
 . 583 
 
 
 . 571 
 
 Juan Iiufo .... 
 
 584 
 
 
 572 
 
 Pedro de la Vezilla . 
 
 . 585 
 
 
 . 573 
 
 Miguel Giner .... 
 
 586 
 
 
 573 
 
 Duarte Diaz .... 
 
 . 586 
 
 
 . 573 
 
 Lorenzo de Zamora 
 
 586 
 
 
 574 
 
 Christovul de Jlesa . 
 
 . 587 
 
 
 . 574 
 
 Juan de la Cueva . 
 
 588 
 
 
 576 
 
 Alfonso Lopez, El Pinciano 
 
 . 589 
 
 
 . 576 
 
 Francisco Mosquera 
 
 590 
 
 
 577 
 
 Vasconcellos .... 
 
 . 590 
 
 
 . 578 
 
 Bernarda Ferreira 
 
 591 
 
 
 579 
 
 Antonio de Vera y Figueroa 
 
 . 592 
 
 
 . 580 
 
 Borja y Ivsquilache 
 
 592 
 
 
 581 
 
 Rise of Heroic Poetry 
 
 . 594 
 
 
 . 581 
 
 Its Decline .... 
 
 595
 
 HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 SPANISH LITERATURE. 
 
 SECOND PERIOD. 
 
 THE LITERATURE THAT EXISTED IN SPAIN FROM THE ACCESSION OF 
 
 THE AUSTRIAN FAMILY TO ITS EXTINCTION ; OR FROM THE 
 
 BEGINNING OF' THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY TO 
 
 THE END OF THE SEVENTEENTH. 
 
 (CONTINUED.)
 
 HISTORY OF SPANISH LITERATURE. 
 
 SECOND PERIOD. 
 
 (continued.) 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 niD.A.CTIC POETRY. LUIS DE ESCOBAR. COREL.A.S. TORRE. DIDACTIC 
 
 PROSE. VILLALOBOS. OLIVA. .SEDENO. SALAZAE. LUIS MEXIA. 
 
 PEDRO MEXIA. NAVARRA. UREEA. PALACIOS RUBIOS. VANEGAS. 
 
 JUAN DE AVILA. ANTONIO DE GUEVARA. DIALOGO DE LAS LENGUAS. 
 
 PROGRESS OF THE CASTILIAN FROM THE TIME OF JOHN THE SECOND 
 
 TO THAT OF THE EMPEROR CHARLES THE FIFTH. 
 
 While an Italian spirit, or at least an observance of 
 Italian forms, was beginning so decidedly to prevail in 
 Spanish lyric and pastoral poetry, what was didactic, 
 whether in prose or verse, took directions somewhat 
 different. 
 
 In didactic poetry, among other forms, the old one 
 of question and answer, known from the age of Juan 
 de Mena, and found in the Cancioneros as late as Bada- 
 joz, continued to enjoy much favor. Originall}^, such 
 questions seem to have been riddles and witticisms; 
 but in the sixteenth century they gradually assumed a 
 graver character, and at last claimed to be directly and 
 absolutely didactic, constituting a form in which two 
 remarkable books of light and easy verse were pro- 
 duced. The first of these books is called " The Four 
 Hundred Answers to as many Questions of the Illus- 
 trious Don Fadrique Enriquez, the Admiral of Castile,
 
 4 DIDACTIC POETllY. [Pkuiod II. 
 
 and other Persons." ^ It was printed three 
 *4 times in 1545, the year * in which it first ap- 
 peared, and had undoubtedly a great success in the 
 class of society to which it was addressed, and whose 
 manners and opinions it strikinglj^ illustrates. It con- 
 tains at least twenty thousand verses, and was followed, 
 in 1552, by another similar volume, chiefly in prose, 
 and promising a third, which, however, was never 
 published. Except five hundred proverbs, as they are 
 inappropriately called, at the end of the first volume, 
 and fifty glosses at the end of the second, the whole 
 consists of such ingenious questions as a distinguished 
 old nobleman in the reign of Charles the Fifth and his 
 friends might imagine it would amuse or instruct them 
 to have solved. They are on subjects as various as 
 possible, — religion, morals, history, medicine, magic, 
 — in short, whatever could occur to idle and curious 
 minds ; but they were all sent to an acute, good-hu- 
 mored Minorite friar, Luis de Escobar, who, being bed- 
 ridden with the gout and other grievous maladies, had 
 nothing better to do than to answer them. 
 
 His answers form the bod}^ of the work. Some of 
 them are wise and some foolish, syme are learned and 
 some al)surd ; but they all bear the impression of their 
 ao-e. Once we have a lon<»: letter of advice about 
 a godly life, sent to the Admiral, which, no doubt, was 
 well suii('(l to his case ; and repeatedly we get com- 
 plaints from the old monk himself of his sufferings, 
 and accounts of what he was doing; so that from dif- 
 ferent parts of the two volumes it would be possible to 
 
 1 My cojiy is ciititlccl, Vol. I., Las 1.545 ; printed in folio at Zararroza, i\'. 
 Quatroci(;ntius l{e.s]iui'sta.s a otras tantiis 122, hlk. let. two and three lolumns. 
 PrefOi'itis '1"** •'! illustrissiino (.sic) Vol. II., La Segunda Parte de las Qua- 
 Seftor Don Fadrifjue Enriquez, Alnii- troeientas Resjme.stas, cc. En Valla- 
 ran tc de Ca.stilla y otras diversas perso- dolid, l.'j.52. Folio, ff. 245, blk. let. 
 na.s enibiaron a preguntar al autoi-, ec., two (•olunins. More tlmn jialf in prose.
 
 Cii.\i>. v.] 
 
 DIDxVCTIC POETKV. 
 
 collect a tolerably distinct picture of the amuscnients of 
 society, if not its occupations, about the court, at the 
 period when they were written. The poetr}^ is in many 
 respects not unlike that of Tusser, who was contempo- 
 rary with Escobar, but it is better and more spirited.'-^ 
 
 * The second book of questions and answers to * 5 
 which we have referred is graver than the first. 
 It was printed the next year after the great success of 
 Escobar's work, and is called " Three Hundred Questions 
 concerning Natural Subjects, with their Answers," by 
 Alonso Lopez de Corelas, a physician, who had more 
 learning, perhaps, than the monk he imitated, but is 
 less amusing, and writes in verses neither so well con- 
 structed nor so agreeable.^ 
 
 Others followed, like Gonzalez de la Torre, who in 
 1590 dedicated to the heir-apparent of the Spanish 
 
 2 Escobar was of the family of that 
 name at Sahagun, but lived in the con- 
 vent of St. Francis at Bioseco, a posses- 
 sion of the great Admiral. This he 
 tells ns in the Pi-eface to the Second 
 Part. Elsewhere he complains that 
 many of the questions sent to him 
 were in such bad verse that it cost him 
 a gi'eat deal of labor to put them into a 
 proper shape ; and it must be admitted 
 that both questions and answers gener- 
 ally read as if they came from one hand. 
 Sometimes a long moral dissertation 
 occurs, especially in the prose of the 
 second volume, but the answers are 
 rarely tedious from their length. Those 
 in the first volume are the best, and 
 Nos. 280, 281, 282, are curious, from 
 the accounts they contain of the poet 
 himself, who must have died after 1552. 
 In the Preface to the first volume, he 
 says the Admiral died in 1538. If the 
 whole work had been comjileted, ac- 
 cording to its author's purpose, it would 
 have contained just a thousand ques- 
 tions and answers. For a specimen we 
 may take No. 10 (Quatrocientas Pre- 
 guntas, Carago^a, 1545, folio) as one of 
 tlie more ridiculous, wliere the Admiral 
 asks how many keys Christ gave to St. 
 Peter ; and No. 190 as one of the 
 better sort, wliere the Admiral asks 
 
 whether it be necessary to kneel before 
 the priest at confession, if the penitent 
 finds it very painful ; to which the old 
 monk answers gently and well, — 
 
 He that, through suflfering sent from God above, 
 Confessing, kneels not, still commits no sin ; 
 
 But let him cherish modest, humble love, 
 And that shall purify lii.s heart within. 
 
 The fifth part of the first volume con- 
 sists of riddles in the old style ; and, 
 as Escobar adds, they .are sometimes 
 truly very old riddles ; so old, that they 
 must have been generally known. 
 
 The Admiral to whom these "Respu- 
 estas" Avere addressed was the stout old 
 nobleman who, during one of the ab- 
 sences of Charles V., was left Regent 
 of Sixain, and who ventured to give his 
 master counsels of the most plain- 
 spoken wisdom (Salazar, Dignidades, 
 1618, Lib. III. c. 15; Ferrer del Kio, 
 Decadencia de Espana, 1850, pp. 16, 
 17). 
 
 ^ The Volume of Corelas "Trezientas 
 Preguntas" (Valladolid, 1546, 4to) is 
 accompanied by a learned prose com- 
 mentary in a respectable didactic style. 
 There seems to have been an earlier 
 edition the sai^je year, containing only 
 two hundred and fifty questions and 
 answers. (See Salva's Catalogues, 1826 
 and 1829, Nos. 1236. 3304.)
 
 6 DIDACTIC PROSE. [Period II. 
 
 throne a volume of siicli dull religious riddles as were 
 admired a century before.* But nobody, who wrote in 
 this peculiar didactic sty\e of verse, equalled Escobar, 
 and it soon jDassed out of general notice and regard.^ 
 
 In prose, about the same time, a fashion appeared of 
 imitating the Roman didactic prose-writers, just as those 
 writers had been imitated by Castiglione, Benibo, 
 * 6 Giovanni * della Casa, and others in Italy. The 
 impulse seems plainly to have l)een commmiicated 
 to Spain by the moderns, and not by the anciefits. It 
 was because the Italians led the Avav that the Romans 
 were imitated, and not because the example of Cicero 
 and Seneca had. of itself, been al)le to form a prose 
 school, of any kind, beyond the Pyrenees.*^ The fash- 
 ion was- not one of so much importance and influence 
 as that introduced into the poetry of the nation ; but 
 it is worthy of notice, both on account of its results 
 during the reign of Charles the Fifth, and on account 
 of an effect more or less distinct which it had on the 
 prose style of the nation afterwards. 
 
 The eldest among the prominent wi'iters produced by 
 this state of things was Francisco de Villalobos, of whom 
 we know little except that he belonged to a family 
 which, for several successive generations, had been 
 devoted to the medical art ; that he was himself the 
 physician, first of Ferdinand the Catholic,' and then of 
 
 * Docu-nttus PiY'^intas, f'tc, ]>or.Iiian nan Perez dc Oliva, shows the way in 
 Gonzalez de la Torre, Madiid, 1590, -which the change was brouglit alujiit. 
 4to. Some Sj)aniards, it is plain from this 
 
 ^ I should rather have said, perhaps, curious document, were become ashamed 
 
 that the Prcf^mtas were soon restricted to wiitc any longer in Latin, as it' their 
 
 to the ffLshioiialile societies and acade- own language were unfit for practical 
 
 inics of the time, as we see them wittily use in matters of grave imjiortanoe, 
 
 exhibited in the first janiada of Cal- when they had, in the Italian, exam- 
 
 deron's "Secreto a Voces." pies of entin? success befoie them. 
 
 * The general tendency and tone of (Ohras de Oliva, Madrid, 1787, 12mo, 
 the didactii; jirose-wriWrs in the reign Tom. I. ]ip. xvi-xlvii.) 
 
 of Charles V. prove this fact ; but the ' There is a letter of Villalobos, dated 
 
 Discourse of Morales, the historian, at Calatayud, OctoV)er 6, 1515, in which 
 jirefixed to the works of his uncle, Fer- he says he was detained in that city by
 
 CnAr. v.] FUA^X'1SC0 DE VILLALOJJOS. 7 
 
 Charles the Fifth ; that he published, as early as 1498, 
 a poem on his own science, in five hundred stanzas, 
 founded on the rules of Avicenna ;^ and that he con- 
 tinued to be known as an author, chiefiy on subjects 
 connected with his profession, till 1543, before which 
 time he had become weary of the court, and sought a 
 voluntary retirement, in which he died, above seventy 
 years old.^ His translation of the " Amphitryon " of 
 Plautus belongs rather to the theatre, but, like 
 that of Oliva, soon to be mentioned, * produced no * T 
 effect there, and, like his scientific treatises, de- 
 mands no especial notice. The rest of his Avorks^ 
 including all that belong to the department of elegant 
 literature, are to be found in a volume of moderate size> 
 which he dedicated to the Infante Don Luis of Por- 
 tugal. 
 
 The chief of them is called "Problems," and is di- 
 vided into two tractates : the first, which is very short, 
 being on the Sun, the Planets, the Four Elements, and 
 the Terrestrial Paradise ; and the last, which is longer, 
 on Man and Morals, beginning with an essay on Satan, 
 and ending with one on Flattery and Flatterers, which is 
 especially addressed to the heir-apparent of the crown 
 of Spain, afterwards Philip the Second. Each of these 
 subdivisions, in each tractate, has eight lines of the old 
 Spanish verse prefixed to it, as its Problem, or text, and 
 the prose discussion which follows, like a gloss, consti- 
 tutes the substance of the Avork. The whole is of a very 
 miscellaneous character ; most of it grave, like the es- 
 
 the king's severe illness. (Obras, (^'ara- ticed, to have been (lis))lease(l with his 
 go(ja, 1544, folio, f. 71, h.) This was ])osition as early as 1515 ; but he must 
 the illness of which Ferdinand died in liave continued at court above twenty- 
 less than four months afterward. years longer, when he left it poor and 
 
 ** Mendez, Typographia, ]). 249. An- disheartened. (Obras, f. 45.) From a 
 
 tonio. Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Tom. U. passage two leaves further on, I think 
 
 J). 344, note. he left it after the death of the Em- 
 
 ^ He seems, from the letter just no- press, in 1539.
 
 8 FKAN'CESC'O DE VILLALOBOS. [Pkuiod II. 
 
 says on Knio-lits and Prelates, but some of it amiisinii', 
 like an essay on the Marriage of Old Men.^*^ The 
 best portions are those that have a satirical vein in 
 them ; suoli as the ridicule of litigious old men, and 
 of old men that wear paint." 
 
 A Dialogue on Intermittent Fevers, a Dialogue on 
 the Natural Heat of the Body, and a Dialoofue between 
 the Doctor and the Duke, his patient, are all quite in 
 the manner of the contemporary didactic discussions 
 of the Italians, except that the last contains passages of 
 a broad and free humor, approaching more nearly to 
 the tone of comedy, or rather of farce.^^ A treatise that 
 follows, on the Three Great Annoyances of much talk- 
 ing, much disputing, and much laughing,^'^ and a 
 * 8 * grave discourse on Love, with which the volume 
 ends, are all that remain worth notice. They have 
 the same general characteristics with the rest of his 
 miscellanies ; the style of some portions of them being 
 distinguished by more purity Jind more pretensions to 
 dignity than have been found in the earlier didactic 
 prose-writers, and especially by greater clearness and 
 exactness of expression. Occasionally, too, we meet 
 with an idiomatic familiarity, frankness, and spirit, that 
 are xery attractive, and that partly compensate us for 
 
 ''' If Pogf?io's tiillc, "All Seni sit ca de AutoresEspanoles, Tom. XXXVI. 
 
 I'xor daci'iida," had been published 18.5.5. 
 uhcn Villalolios wrote, I .should not ''■^ Obra.s, f. 35. 
 
 <l(nil>t he had seen it. A.s it is, the i-' I have translated the title of this 
 
 «-.oincideiice may not be accidental, lor Treati.se " The Three Great Annoii- 
 
 I'ogKio died in 1449, though his Dia- anccs." In the original it is "The 
 
 logue was not, I believe, jjiiuted till Three Great ," leaving the title, 
 
 the jnesciit ci'iitury. says Villalobos in his Prologo, unliii- 
 
 " The Pioblemas constitute the first i.shed, .so that everybody may fill it 
 
 ]iait of the Obnis de Villalobos, 1544, up as he likes. Among the M8S. of 
 
 and fill thirty-four leaves. A few jioems the Academy of History at ]\Iadrid 
 
 Viy Villalolios may be found in the Can- is an amusing "Coloquio" by Villalo- 
 
 cionero of 1554 (noticed anlc. Vol. I. bos on a medical question, and some 
 
 ]). 393, 11.); but they are of much less of his ])lea.saiit letters. See Spanish 
 
 worth than his pro.se, and th(! best of translation of this History, Tom. II. 
 
 Jiis works an; reiniiited in the Bibliote- p. 506.
 
 CiiAi'. v.] FERNAN PEEEZ DE OEIVA. 9 
 
 the absurdities of the old and forgotten doctrines in 
 natural history and medicine, whicli Villalobos incul- 
 cated because they were the received doctrines of his 
 time. 
 
 The next writer of the same class, and, on the whole, 
 one much more worthy of consideration, is Fernan 
 Perez de Oliva, a Cordovese, who was born about 1492, 
 and died, still young, in 1530. His father was a lover 
 of letters ; and the son, as he himself informs us, was 
 educated with care from his earliest youth. At twelve 
 years of age, he was already a student in the Univer- 
 sity of Salamanca ; after which he went, first, to Alcala, 
 when it was in the beginning of its glory; then to 
 Paris, Avhose University had long attracted students 
 from every part of Europe ; and finally to Rome, wherCy 
 under the protection of an uncle at the court of Leo 
 the Tenth, all the advantages to be found in the most 
 cultivated capital of Christendom were accessible to 
 him. 
 
 On his uncle's death, it was proposed to him to take 
 several offices left vacant by that event ; but loving 
 letters more than courtly honors, he went back to Paris, 
 where he taught and lectured in its University for three 
 years. Another Pope, Adrian the Sixth, was now on 
 the throne, and, hearing of diva's success, endeavored 
 anew to draw him to Rome ; but the love of his coun- 
 try and of literature continued to be stronger than the 
 love of ecclesiastical preferment. He returned, 
 therefore, to Salamanca ; * became one of the * 9 
 original members of the rich " College of the Arch- 
 bishop," founded in 1528; and was successively chosen 
 Professor of Ethics in the Universit}^, and its Rector. 
 But he had hardly risen to his highest distinctions^ 
 when he died suddenly, and at a moment when so
 
 10 FEKXAX PEREZ DE OLIVA. [Pkimod II. 
 
 inniiv hopes rested on liiin that his death was felt as a 
 misibrtune to the cause of letters throughout Spain.^* 
 
 diva's studies at Rome had taught hiui how success- 
 fully tJic Latin writers had been imitated by the Ital- 
 ians, and he became anxious that they should be no less 
 successfully imitated by the Spaniards. He felt it as 
 a wrong done to his native language, that almost all se- 
 rious prose discussions in Spain were still carried on in 
 Latin, rather than in Spanish.^^ Taking a hint, then, 
 from Castiglione's " Cortigiano," and opposmg the cur- 
 rent of opinion among the learned men with whom he 
 lived {uid acted, he began a didactic dialogue on the 
 Dignity of Man, formallj^ defending it as a work in the 
 Spanish language written by a Spaniard. Besides this, 
 he wrote several strictly didactic discourses : one on the 
 Faculties of the Mind and their Proper Vse ; another 
 in;uing Cordova, his native city, to improve the naviga- 
 tion of the Guadalquivir, and so obtain a portion of the 
 rich connnerce of the Lidies, which was then monopo- 
 lized ))y Seville ; and another, that was delivered at Sal- 
 amanca, when he was a candidate for the chair of moral 
 
 ^* Tlu" most ainplf life of Oliva is in In an anonymous controvorsial pam- 
 
 Eezalial y Ugaiie, " Bil)lioteca de los ])lilet pulilishcd at Madrid in 1789, and 
 
 Escri tores, (|uc han sido individuos do entitled "Carta de I'aracuello.s," we 
 
 los seis Colegios Maj'ores" (Madrid, are told (p. 29), " Los anos pasados el 
 
 180."), 4to, pp. 239, etc.). But all that C'onsejo de Ca.stilla maiuld a las Univer- 
 
 we know about him, of any real inter- sidades del Reyno que, en las funciones 
 
 fst, is to be found in th(! exposition he literarias, solo se hablase en Latin, 
 
 made of his claims and meiits when Bien mandado, ec." And yet, the in- 
 
 he contended ])ublicly for the chair judiciousness of the practice had been 
 
 of Moral Philosophy at Salamanca. al)ly set forth by the well-known schol- 
 
 (Obias, 1787, Tom. II. jijt. 26 -.51.) ar, Pedro Simon de Abril, in an ad- 
 
 In the course of it, he says his travels dress to Philip II., as early as 1589, 
 
 all over Spain .and out of it, in pursuit and tlie reasons against it .stated with 
 
 of knowledge, liad amounted to more force and precision. See his "Apunta- 
 
 than three thou.sand leagues. mientos de como .se deveii reformar la- 
 
 '^ Obras, Tom. I. p. xxiii. l^uis de doctrinas y la manera de ansefiallas." 
 
 Leon was of the .same mind at the same Editions of this sensible tra(!t were 
 
 X»enod, but his opinion was not jirinted al.so printed Ln 1769 and 1817; — the 
 
 until later. See pos/., ("liap. IX. note la.st, with notes and a preliminary 
 
 12. But Latin continued to be exclu- discourse by Jose Clemente Caricero, 
 
 sively the language; of the. Spanish Uni- .seems to have had some ell'ect on opin- 
 
 ver.iilics for ai>ove two centuries longer. ion.
 
 Chap. V.] SEDEXO, SALAZAK, LULS MEXIA, CEKIOL. 11 
 
 philosophy; * in all which his nephew, Morales, * 10 
 the historian, assures us it was his uncle's strong 
 desire to furnish practical examples of the power and 
 resources of the Spanish language.^*' 
 
 The purpose of giving greater dignity to his na- 
 tive tongue, by employing it, instead of the Latin, 
 on all the chief subjects of human inquir}^, was cer- 
 tainly a fortunate one in Oliva, and soon found imita- 
 tors. Juan de Sedeno published, in 153G, two prose 
 dialogues on Love and one on Happiness ; the former 
 in a more graceful tone of gallantry, and the latter in 
 a more philosophical spirit and with more terseness of 
 manner than belong-ed to the ao:e.^' Francisco Cervan- 
 tes de Salazar, a man of learning, completed the dia- 
 logue of Oliva on the Dignity of Man, which had been 
 left unfinished, and, dedicating it to Fernando Cortes, 
 published it in 1546,^*^ together with a long prose fable 
 by Luis Mexia, on Idleness and Labor, written in a pure 
 and somewhat elevated style, but too much indebted to 
 the " Vision " of the Bachiller de la Torre.^^ Fadrique 
 Oeriol in 1559 printed, at Antwerp, an ethical and 
 
 1^ The works of Oliva have been pub- ■''' Sigaeuse dos Coh)quio.s de Amores 
 
 lished at least twice ; the first time by y otro de BienaveiituraiKja, etc., per 
 
 his nephew, Ambrosio de Morales, 4to, Juan de Sedeno, vezino de Arevalo, 
 
 Cordova, in 1585, and again at Madrid, 1536, sm. 4to, no printer or place, pp. 
 
 1787, 2 vols, 12mo. In the Index Ex- 16. This is the same Juan de Sedeno 
 
 purgatorius, (1667, 'p. 424,) they are who translated the " Celestina " hito 
 
 forbidden to be read, "till they are verse in 1540, and who wrote the 
 
 corrected," — a phrase which seems to " Snma de Varones Ilustres " (Areva- 
 
 have left each copy of them to the lo, 1551, and Toledo, 1590, folio) ; — 
 
 discretion of the spiritual director of a poor biographical dictionary, contain- 
 
 its owner. In the edition of 1787, a ing lives of about two hundred dis- 
 
 sheet was cancelled, in order to get rid tinguished personages, alphabetically 
 
 of a note of Morales. See Index of 1790. arranged, and beginning^nth Adam. Se- 
 
 In the same volume with the minor deno was a soldier, and served in Ital}'. 
 
 works of Oliva, Morales published fif- ^^ The whole Dialogue — both the 
 
 teen moral discourses of his own, and jiart written by Oliva and that written 
 
 one by Pedro A'alles of Cordova, none by Francisco Cervantes — was pub- 
 
 of which have much literary value, lished at Madrid (1772, 4to) in a new 
 
 though several, like one on the Advan- edition by Cerda y Rico, with his usual 
 
 tage of Teaching with Gentleness, and abundant, but awkward, prefaces and 
 
 one on the Difference between Genius annotations. 
 
 and Wisdom, are marked with excel- i' It is republished in the volume 
 
 lent sense. That of Valles is on the mentioned in the last note ; but we 
 
 Fear of Death. know nothing of its author.
 
 12 
 
 NAVARRA, PEDRO ME XI A. 
 
 [I'EpaoD II, 
 
 political work entitled " Counsel and Councillors for a 
 Prince," which was too tolerant to be successful 
 * 11 *in Spain, but was honored and translated 
 abroad.-^ Pedro de Navarra published, in 1567, 
 forty Moral Dialogues, partly the result of conversations 
 held in an Acadrmia of distinguished persons, who met, 
 from time to time, at the house of Fernando Cortes.-^ 
 Pedro Mexia, the chronicler, wrote a Silva, or Miscel- 
 lany, divided, in later editions, into six books, and sub- 
 
 -'^ El Coiiscjo y Consejeros del Prin- 
 cipe, ec., Aiivers, 1559. Only tlie first 
 part was published. This can be found 
 in the Biblioteca de Autores Espanoles, 
 Tom. XXXVl. 1855. 
 
 21 Dialogos niuy Subtiles y Notables, 
 etc., por D. Pedro de Navarra, Obis])o 
 de Conienge, (J'arago9a, 1567, 12ino, 118 
 leaves. The first five Dialogues are on 
 the Character becoming a lioyal Chroni- 
 cler ; the next four on the Differences 
 between a Rustic and a Noble Life ; 
 and the remaining thirty-one on Prep- 
 aration for Death ; — all written in a 
 pure, simple Castilian style, but with 
 little either new or striking in the 
 thoughts. Their author says, it was a 
 rule of the Acadcmia that the person 
 who an-ived last at each meeting should 
 furnish a .subject for discussion, and 
 direct another menibej- to reduce to 
 writing tlie remarks that might be 
 made on it, — Cardinal Poggio, Juan 
 d' Estuniga, knight-commander of Cas- 
 tile, and other per.son.s of note, being 
 of the society. Navarra adds, that he 
 had written two hundred dialogues, in 
 which there were "few matters that 
 had not been touched upon in that e.\- 
 cellent Academy," and notes especially 
 that the subject of "Preparation for 
 Death " had been discussed after the 
 decease of Cobos, a confidential minis- 
 ter of Charles V., and that he himsidf 
 had acted as secretary on the occasion. 
 Traces of anything contemporary are, 
 however, rare in the forty dialogues he 
 
 {irinted ; — the mo.st impoi-tant that I 
 lave noticed relating to Charles V. and 
 his retirement at Yuste, whicli the good 
 Bisliop seems to have bidieved was a 
 sincere abandonment of all woi'ldly 
 thoughts and passions. 1 find nothing 
 to illustrate the cKaracter of Cortes, 
 
 except the fact that such meetings M'ere 
 held at his house. Cervantes, in his 
 Don Quixote, (Parte II. c. 18,) calls 
 him — perhaps on this account, per- 
 haps for the sake of a play upon words 
 — " cortesissimo Cortes." Certainly I 
 know nothing in the character or life of 
 this ferocious to/i5'«/,s^»fo;- which should 
 entitle him to such commendation, ex- 
 cept the countenance he gave to this 
 jimihimia. 
 
 The fashion of writing didactic dia- 
 logues in prose was common at this 
 jjeriod in Spain, and indeed until after 
 1600, as Gayangos has wcdl noted in 
 his translation of this Histor}^ (Tom. 
 II. pp. 508-510,) citing in proof of it 
 the names of a considerable number of 
 authors, most of whom are now for- 
 gotten, but the best of whom, that I 
 have not elsewhere noticed, are Diego 
 de Salazar, 1536 ; Francisco de Miranda 
 y Villafano, 1582 ; Bernardino de Esca- 
 lante, 1583; Franci-sco de Yaldes, 1586; 
 Juan de Guzman, 1589 ; Diego N^inez 
 de Alva, 1589 ; and Sancho de Lodono, 
 1593. Of these, I should distingui-sh 
 Nunez de Alva, whose dialogues, in the 
 copy I use, are entitled "Dialogos de 
 Diego Nunez de Alva de la Vida del 
 Soldado en que se quentan la conju- 
 racion y pacificacion de Alamana con 
 todas las batallas, recuentros y escara- 
 mu^as que en ello acontecieron en los 
 ahos dc 1546, y 7, ec. (En Salamanca, 
 Andrea de Portinaris, Dialogo primero, 
 1552, Dialogo segundo, 1553." Rut the 
 comjdete edition is Cuenca, 1589.) It 
 is written in a ])ure and sjiirited style, 
 and is not without value for its record 
 of liistorical facts ; but it is chiefly in- 
 teresting for what it tells us of a sol- 
 dier's life in the time of Charles V., — so 
 different from what it is in our days.
 
 Chap. V.] URREA. 13 
 
 divided into a multitude of separate essays, historical 
 and moral ; declaring it to be the first work of the 
 kind in Spanish, which, he says, he considers quite 
 as suitable for such discussions as the Italian.^^ 
 * To this, which may be regarded as an imita- * 12 
 tion of Macrobius or of Athenanis, and wliicli 
 was printed in 1513, were added, in 1518, six didactic 
 dialogues, — curious, but of little value, — in the first 
 of which the advantages and disadvantages of having 
 regular physicians are agreeably set forth, with a light- 
 ness and exactness of style hardly to have been ex- 
 pected.^'^ And finally, to complete the short list, Urrea, 
 a fixvored soldier of the Emperor, and at one time vice- 
 roy of Apulia, — the same person who made the poor 
 translation of Ariosto mentioned in Don Quixote, — 
 published, in 1566, a Dialogue on True Military Honor, 
 which is written in a pleasant and easy style, and con- 
 tains, mingled with the notions of one who says he 
 trained himself for glory by reading romances of chiv- 
 alry, not a few amusing anecdotes of duels and mili- 
 tary adventures.^* 
 
 2^ Silva cle Varia Leccion, poi' Pedro don, 1613, fol.). It is a curious mix- 
 
 Mexia. The first edition (Sevilla, 1543, ture of similar discussions by different 
 
 fol.) is in only three parts. Another, authors, Spanish, Italian, and French, 
 
 which I also possess, is of Madrid, 1669, Mexia's part begins at Book I. c. 8. 
 and in six books, filling about 700 ^3 -p^^g earliest edition of the Dia- 
 
 clo.sely printed (piarto pages ; but the logues, I think, is that of Seville, 1548, 
 
 fifth and sixth books were first added, which I use as well as ofte of 1562, 
 
 I think, in the edition of 1554, tAvo both 12mo, lit. got. The second dia- 
 
 years after his death, and do not seem logue, wliichison "Inviting to Feasts," 
 
 to be his. It was long very populai', is amusing ; but the last, which is on 
 
 and there are many editions of it, be- subjects of physical science, such as the 
 
 .sides translations into Italian, German, causes of thunder, earthquakes, and 
 
 French, Flemish, and English. One comets, is nowadays only curious or 
 
 English version is by Thomas For- ridiculous. At the end of the Dia- 
 
 tescue, and appeared in 1571. (War- logues, and sometimes at the end of 
 
 ton's Eng. Poetry, London, 1824, 8vo, old editions of the Silva, is found a free 
 
 Tom. IV. p. 312.) Another, which is translation of the Exhortation to Virtue 
 
 anonymous, is called "The Treasure of by Isocrates, made from the Latin of 
 
 Ancient and Modern Times, etc., trans- Agricola, because Mexia did not uuder- 
 
 lated out of that worthy Spanish Gen- stand Greek. It is of no value, 
 tlemau, Pedro Mexia, and Mr. Fran- ^* Dialogo de la Verdadera Honra 
 
 Cisco San.soviiio, tlie Italian," etc. (Lon- Jlilitar, por Geronimo Ximenez de Ur-
 
 14 OLIVA. [Pfiuod ir. 
 
 Both of the works of Pedro Mexia, but especially his 
 Silva, enjoyed no little popularity during the sixteenth 
 and seventeenth centuries ; and, in point of style, they 
 are certainly not without merit. None, however, of 
 the productions of any one of the authors last men- 
 tioned had so much force and character as the first 
 part of the Dialogue on the Dignity of Man. And 
 
 yet Oliva was certainly not a person of a 
 * 13 connnandini*: g-enius. *IIis ima<»:ination never 
 
 warms into poetry; his invention is never 
 sufficient to give new and strong views to his subject ; 
 and his sj'stem of imitating both the Latin and the 
 Italian masters rather tends to debilitate than to 
 impart vigor to his tlioughts. ])ut there is a general 
 reasonal^leness and wisdom in what he says that win 
 and often satisfy ns ; and these, with his stjde, Avhich, 
 though sometimes declamatory, is yet, on the v^diole, 
 pure and well settled, and his happy idea of defending 
 and employing the Castilian, then coming into all 
 its rights as a living language, have had the effect 
 of giving him a more lasting reputation than that 
 of any other Spanish prose-writer of his time.^^ 
 
 rea. There are editions of 1.566, 1.'j75, opposition to the use of the Castilian 
 
 1661, etc. (Latassa, Bib. Arag. Nueva, in gi'ave subjects was continued. He 
 
 Tom. I. p. 264.) Mine is a small (]uar- says people talked to him as if it were 
 
 to volume, Zaragoza, 1642. One of tlie "a sacrilege" to discuss such matters 
 
 most amusing passages in the Dialogue except in Latin (f. l.'»). But he replies, 
 
 of Urrca i^ tlir- one in Part First, con- like a true Spaniard, tliat the Castilian 
 
 taining a <letailed statement of every- is better for sudi jiurposes than Latin 
 
 thing relating to the duel proposed by or Greek, and that lie trusts before long 
 
 Francis L to Charles V. There are to .see it as widely spread as the arms 
 
 verses by him in the Cancionero of and glories of his country (f. 17). On 
 
 1.5.'>4, (noticed ante. Vol. L p. 393, n.,) the other hand, in 1.543, a treatise 
 
 and in the Library of the University of on Holy AliVitions, — " Ley de Amor 
 
 Zamgoza there are, in MS., the second Sancto, — written bj' Francisco de Os- 
 
 and third volumes of a Homancc of suna, witli gieat purity of style, and 
 
 Chivalry by liim, entitled " Don Clari- somi-times with fervent elo<|uence, was 
 
 sel de las Flores." See Spani.sh ti'ans- ]iublished witliout apology for its Cas- 
 
 lation of this History, Tom. IL p. tilian, and dedicated to Francisco de 
 
 51 1 . ( 'obos, a confirlential secretary of Charles 
 
 '^ As late as 1.592, when the "Con- ^ ., adverted to in note 21. I think 
 
 version de la Magdalena," by Pedro O.ssuna was dead when this treatise 
 
 Malon de Chaide, was published, the appeared.
 
 Chap. V.] PALACIOS UUIJIOS, VANEGAS, AVILA. 1-5 
 
 The same general tendency to a more formal and 
 elegant style of discussion is found in a icAV other 
 ethical and religious authors of the reign of Charles 
 the Fifth that are still remembered ; such as Palacios 
 iRubios, who wrote an essay on Military Courage, 
 for the benefit of his son ; ^^ Vanegas, who, under 
 the title of " The Agony of Passing through Death," 
 gives us what may rather be considered an ascetic 
 treatise on holy living ; ^' and Juan de Avila, 
 sometimes called the Apostle * of Andalusia, * 14 
 whose letters are fervent exhortations to virtue 
 and religion, composed with care and often with elo- 
 quence, if not with entire purity of style.'^ 
 
 The author in this class, however, who, during his 
 lifetime, had the most influence, was Antonio de ' 
 Guevara, o ne of the official chroniclers of Cliarles tlie » 
 Fifth. He was a Biscayan by birth, and passed some \ 
 of his earlier years at the court of Queen Isabella. 
 
 2^5 A full account of Juan Lopez de a good style, thougli not without con- 
 
 Vivero Palacios Rubios, who was a ceits of thought and conceited phrases, 
 
 man of consequence in his time, and But it is not, as its title might seem to 
 
 ■engaged in the famous compilation of imply, a criticism on books and au- 
 
 the Spanish laws called " Leyes de thor.s, but the opinion of Vanegas him- 
 
 Toro," is contained in Rezabal y Ugarte self, how we should study tlie great 
 
 (Biblioteca, pp. 266-271). His works books of God, nature, man, and Chris- 
 
 in Latin are numerous ; but in Spanish tianity. It is, in fact, intended to dis- 
 
 he published only ' ' Del Esfuevzo Belico courage the reading of most of the books 
 
 Heroyco," which appeared first at Sala- then nnich in fashion, and deemed by 
 
 manca in 1524, folio, but of which him bad. 
 
 there is a beautiful Madrid edition, ^^ He died in 1569. In 1534 he was 
 
 1793, folio, with notes by Francisco in the prisons of the Inquisition, and 
 
 Moi'ales. in 1559 one of his books was put into 
 
 2^ Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. 8. the Index Expurgatorius. Neverthe- 
 He flourished about 1531-1545. His less, he was regarded as a sort of Saint. 
 "Agonia del Transito de la Muerte," a (Llorente, Histoire de I'lnquisition, 
 glossary to which, by its author, is Tom. II. pp. 7 and 423.) His "Car- 
 dated 1543, was first printed fi'om his tas Espirituales " were not piinted, I 
 corrected manuscript many years later, believe, till the year of his death. 
 My copy, which seems to be of the (Antonio, Bib. Nova, Tom. I. ])p. 639- 
 first edition, is dated Alcala, 1574, and 642.) His treatises on Self-knowledge, 
 is in 12mo. The treatise called "Dife- on Prayer, and on other religious sub- 
 rencias de Libros que ay en el Uni- jects, are equallj' well written, and in 
 verso," by the same author, who, how- the same style of eloi^uence. A long 
 ever, here writes his name Vcnegas, life, or rather eulogy, of him is pre- 
 was finished in 1539, and printed at fixed to the first volume of his works, 
 Toledo in 1540, 4to. It is written in (Madrid, 1595, 4to,) by Juan Diaz.
 
 16 ANTONIO UK (iUEVAHA. [Pkuiod IL 
 
 In 1528 he became a Franciscan monk ; but, enjoy- 
 ing the favor of the Emperor, he seems to have been 
 transformed into a thorough courtier, accompanj^ing 
 his master during his jourueys and residences in Italy 
 and other parts of Europe, and rising successively, by 
 the royal patronage, to be court preacher. Imperial 
 historiographer, Bisliop of Guadix, and Bishop of 
 Mondonedo. He died in 1545.-"^ 
 
 His Avorks were not very nunuMOus, Init they Avere 
 fitted to the atmosphere in which they were produced, 
 and enjoj^ed at once a great popularity. His '• Dial 
 for Princes, or Marcus Aurelius," first published in 
 1529, and the fruit, as he tells us, of eleven years' 
 labor,^'^ was not only often reprinted in Spanish, 1)ut 
 was translated into Latin, Italian, French, and English ; 
 in each of which last two languages it appeared many 
 times before the end of tlie centiuy.^^ It is a kind 
 
 of romance, founded on the life and character 
 *15 of Marcus Aurelius, and resembles, * in some 
 
 points, the " Cyropaidia " of Xenophon ; its pur- 
 pose being to place before the Emperor Charles the 
 Fifth the model of a prince more perfect for wisdom 
 and virtue than any other of antiquity. But the 
 Bishop of Mondofiedo adventured beyond his preroga- 
 tive. He pretended that his Marcus Aurelius was 
 genuine history, and appealed to a manuscri])t in 
 Florence, which did not exist, as if he had done little 
 more than make a translation ol" it. In conse(jnence 
 
 29 A life of fhievaia is prefixed to different editions and translations of 
 
 the edition of his Epistolas, Madrid, the works of Guevai'a, showing their 
 
 1673, 4to ; hut tln^re is a f,'ood account great popularity all over Europe. In 
 
 of liiin hy himself in the Prologo to his Frencli the nunilier of translations in 
 
 " Menosjirecio de Corte." the sixteenth century was extraordi- 
 
 ^' .See the argument to his "Decada nary. See La Croix du Maine et du 
 
 de los Ccsares." Verdier, l'ililiothei|ues, (Paris, 1772, 
 
 31 Watt, in his " Bihliotheca Hritiiii- 4to, Tom. 111. p. 123,) and the articles 
 
 nica," and l^ninet, in his "^lanuel du there referred to. 
 Libraire," give (piite amjile lists of the
 
 I'li.vr. v.] ANTOMO I)K GUEVARA. 17 
 
 of this, Pedro de Run., a professor of ele^-ant literature 
 in the college at Soria, addressed a letter to hiiii, in 
 1540, exposing the fraud. Two other letters followed, 
 written with more IVeedoni and purity of style than 
 anything in the works of the Bishop himself, and leav- 
 ing him no real ground on which to stand. '^^ He, 
 however, defended himself as well as he was able ; at 
 first cautiously, but afterwards, when he was more 
 closely assailed, by assuming the wholly untenable 
 position that all ancient profane history was no more 
 true than his romance of Marcus Aurelius, and that he 
 had as good a right to invent for his own high pur- 
 ]DOses as Herodotus or Livy. From this time he was 
 severely attacked ; more so, perhaps, than he would 
 have been if the gross frauds of Annius of Viterbo 
 had not then been recent. But, however this may be, 
 it was done with a bitterness that forms a strong con- 
 trast to the applause bestowed in France, near the 
 end of the eighteenth century, upon a somewhat 
 similar work on the same subject by Thomas.*^ 
 
 ^^ There are editions of the Cartas questions, the satirical chi'onicler says 
 
 del Bachiller Rua, Burgos, 15-49, 4to, that he inquired: " Querria saber, 
 
 and Madrid, 1736, 4to, and a lite of Senora Voz, si tengo de ser niejorado 
 
 him in Bayle, Diet. Historique, Am- en algun obispado, e que fuese presto 
 
 sterdam, 1740, folio, Tom. iV. p. 95 c si han de crcer todo lo que yo 
 
 The letters of Rua, or Rhua, as his escrihoV But, setting the jests of Fran- 
 name is often written, are respect- cesillo aside, Guevara was, no doubt, 
 able in style, though their critical as Ferrer del Rio says of him, "hombre 
 spirit is that of the age and country de escasissima conciencia." In his 
 in which they were written. Tlie short youth he seems to have been a rake, 
 reply of Guevara following the second (Decadencia de Espafaa, 1850, pp. 139, 
 of Rua's letters is not creditable to sqq.) How shamelessly intolerant and 
 him. cruel he afterwards became, we have 
 
 There are several amusing hits at ah'eady seen, ante. Period I., Chap. 
 
 Guevara in the chronicle of Fraucesillo XXIV. note 8. 
 
 de Zuhiga, the witty fool of Charles V. ^^•Antonio, in his article on Guevara, 
 
 Ex. gr. in Chap. LXXXIV. he says (Bib. Nova, Tom. I. p. 125,) is very 
 
 that there was a gi'eat stir at couit severe ; but his tone is gentle compared 
 
 about the wonders of a deep cave near with that of Bayle, (Diet. Hist., Tom. 
 
 Burgos, in which a hidden miraculous II. p. 631,) who always delights to 
 
 voice would give answers to questions .show up any defects he can tind in 
 
 put to it. Many persons visited it. the characters of priests and monks. 
 
 Among the rest Guevara went with a There are editions of the Relo.x de 
 
 party, and when his turn came to })ut Prineipes of 1529, 1532, 1537, etc. 
 VOL. II. 2
 
 18 
 
 ANTONIO DE GUEVAKA. 
 
 [Pkkiui. II. 
 
 After all, liowevm^, the "Dial for Princes" is 
 * IG little * worth}' of the excitement it occasioned. 
 It is filled with letters and speeches, ill-con- 
 ceived and inappropriate, and is written in a formal 
 and inflated style. Perhaps we are now indebted to it 
 for nothing so mnch as for the beautifid fable of " The 
 Peasant of the Dannbe," evidently sn^-irested to La 
 Fontaine l)y one of the discourses through which 
 Guevara endeavored to give life and reality to his 
 fictions.** 
 
 In the same spirit, though Avith less boldness, he 
 wrote his " Lives of the Ten Roman Emperors " ; a 
 v.ork Avliich, like his Dial for Princes, he dedicated to 
 Charles the Fifth. In general, he has here followed 
 the authorities on which he claims to foimd his narra- 
 tive, such as Dion Cassius and the minor Latin histo- 
 rians, showing, at the same time, a marked desire to 
 imitate Plutarch and Suetonius, whom he announces 
 as his models. But he has not been able entirely 
 to resist the temptation of inserting fictitious letters, 
 and even unfounded stories; thus giving a false view, 
 
 Thos. North, the well-known English 
 translator, translated the "Relox" in 
 three books, adding, inappropriately, 
 as a "fowerth," the " Despertador (k; 
 Cortesanos," and dedicating the whole, 
 in \iv.)l, to Qneen Mary, then wife of 
 Philip II. It was the work of his 
 yontli, he saj's, wlien he was a stndent 
 of Lincoln's Inn ; bnt it contains much 
 good ohl English idiom. Jly copy is 
 in folio, l.'^OS. 
 
 ^ La Fontaine, Fables, Lib. XL f\xb. 
 7, and Guevara, Kelo.\, Lil). III. c. 3. 
 The s)»eech which tlie Spanish liisliop, 
 the true inventor of this hapjiy iiction, 
 gives to his Rnstico de Germania is, 
 indeed, too long ; but it was po))ular. 
 Tirso de Midiiia, after di-scribing a jieas- 
 ant who appioached Xer.ves, says in the 
 Prologue to one of his plays, 
 
 In short, 
 lit- re|irewnU'(J to the very life 
 
 The Rustic that so boldly spoke 
 
 Uefore the liomaii Senate. 
 C'igarrales de Toledo, Madrid, 1624, 4to, p. 102. 
 La Fontaine, howevei', did not trouble 
 himself about the original Spanish or 
 its popularit}'. He took his lieautiful 
 version of the fable from an old French 
 translation, made by a gentleman who 
 went to Madrid in 1526 with the Car- 
 dinal de Granimont, on the suliject of 
 Francis the Firsl's imprisonment. It 
 is in the rich oV\ Fn-ncli of that ]icriod, 
 and La Fontaine often ado])ts, with his 
 accustomed .skill, its ]iictures(jue phra- 
 seology. I su])])o.se this translation is 
 the one cited by Hrunet as made by 
 Pene Bertaut, of whifh there were many 
 editions, ^linc is of Paris, ]."j4(i, folio, 
 by Galliot du Pre, and is entitletl " Lor- 
 loge des Princes, traduiet Uesjtaignol 
 en Langaige Frant;ois," but does not 
 trive the translator's name.
 
 Chai'. v.] ANTONIO DE GUEVARA. 10 
 
 if not of the facts of liistory, at least of some of the 
 characters he records. Ilis style, however, though it 
 still wants purity and appropriateness, is better and 
 more simple than it is in his romance on Marcus 
 Aurelius.''^^ 
 
 * Similar characteristics mark a large collec- *17 
 tion of Letters printed by him as early as 1539. 
 Many of them are addressed to persons of great con- 
 sideration in his time, such as the Marquis of Pescara, 
 the Duke of Alva, Inigo de Velasco, Grand Constable 
 of Castile, and Fadrique Enriquez, Grand Admiral. 
 But some were evidently never sent to the persons ad- 
 dressed, like the loyal one to Juan de Padilla, the head 
 of the Conmneros, and two impertinent letters to the 
 Governor Luis Bravo, who had foolishly fallen in love 
 in his old age. Others are mere fictions, among which 
 are a correspondence of the Emperor Trajan with Plu- 
 tarch and the Roman Senate, which Guevara vainly 
 protests he translated from the Greek, without saying 
 where he found the originals;^'' and a long epistle about 
 Lais and other courtesans of antiquity, in which he 
 gives the details of their conversations as if he had 
 listened to them himself Most of the letters, thouoli 
 
 ^^ The " Decadade los Cesares," with The translation of the " Decada," by 
 
 the other treatises of Guevara here Edward Hellowes, published 1577, anil 
 
 spoken of, except his Epistles, are to dedicated to Queen Elizabeth, is not 
 
 be found in a collection of his works so good as North's translation of the 
 
 first printed at Valladolid in 1539, of "Relox," but it is worth having. I 
 
 which I have a copy, as well as one of have Italian versions of several of 
 
 the edition of 1545. Guevara seems to Guevara's works, but they seem of no 
 
 have been as particular about the typo- value. 
 
 graphical execution of his works as *» These very letters, however, were 
 
 he was about his style of composition. thought worth translating into English 
 
 Besides the above, I have his Epistolas by Sir Geoffrey Fenton, and are found 
 
 1539, 1542, 1543 ; his Oratorio de Ee- ff. 68-77 of a curious collection taken 
 
 ligiosos, 1543, 1545, and his Monte from different authors and published in 
 
 Calvario, 1543, 1549, — all grave black- London, (1575, 4to, black-letter,) under 
 
 letter folios, printed in different cities the title of " Golden Epistles." YA- 
 
 and by different ])rinters, but all with ward Hellowes had already ti'an slated 
 
 an air of exactness and finish that is the whole of Gucivara's Epistles in 1574 ; 
 
 quite remai-kable, and, I suspect, (juite wbicrh were again translated, l)ut not 
 
 characteristic of tlie autlior. very well, by Savage, in 1G57.
 
 20 ANTONIO DE GUEVARA. [Pkiii.-d IT. 
 
 tliey are called •' Familiar Epistles," are merely essays 
 or disputations, and a few are sermons in form, with 
 an announcement of the occasions on which they were 
 preached. None has the easy or natural air of a real 
 correspondence. In fiict, they were all, no doubt, pre- 
 pared expressly for publication and for effect; and, 
 notwithstanding their stiffness and formality, were 
 greatly admired. They were often printed in Spain; 
 they were translated into all the principal languages of 
 Europe ; and. to express the value set on them, they 
 were generally called "The Golden Epistles." But, 
 notwitlistanding their early success, they have long been 
 disregarded, and only a few passages that touch the 
 affairs of the time or the life of the Emperor can now 
 
 • be read with interest or pleasure.^' 
 * 18 * Besides these Avorks, Guevara Avrote several 
 formal treatises. Two are strictly theological.^^ 
 Another is on the Inventors of the Art of Navigation 
 and its Practice ; — a subject which might be thought 
 foreign from the Bishop's experience, but with which, 
 he tells us, he had become familiar by having been 
 much at sea, and visited many ports on the Mediter- 
 ranean.'"^^ Of his two other treatises, which are all 
 
 ^ Epistolas Familiares de D. Antonio 210.) It is an unpioniising sultjcct in 
 
 (le Guevaia, Madrid, 1673, 4to, p. 12, any language, but in the original Gue- 
 
 and elsewhere. Cervantes, en passant, vara ha.s shown some pleasantry, and 
 
 give.s a blow at the letter of Guevara an easier style than is common with 
 
 about Lais, in the Prologo to the first him. Much interest for the .sciences 
 
 part of his Don Quixote. connected with navigation was awakened 
 
 •** One of these religious treatises is at Seville by the intercouise of that city 
 entitled " Monte f "alvario," 1542, trans- with America in the time of Charles V., 
 lated into English in 1595 ; and the when Guevara lived there. It is be- 
 other, "Oiatorio de Religiosos," 1543, lieved that the tii-st really useful niari- 
 which is a series of short exhortations time charts were made there. (Have- 
 or homilies, with a text prefixed to mann, p. 173.) The "Arte de Nave- 
 each. The first is ordered to be ex- gar" of Pedro de Medina, jirintcd at 
 purgated in the Index of 1(367, (p. Seville in 1545 and early translated into 
 67,) and both are censured in that of Italian, French, and German, is said to 
 1790. have been the first liook published on 
 
 ^ Hellowes translated this, also, and the subject. See Literatura ICspafiola 
 
 printe<l it in 1578. (Sir F^. Brydges en el Prefacio de N. Antonio, 
 
 Censura Literaria, Tom. III. 1807, p. ec, 1787, p. 56, note.
 
 Chap. V.] THE DIALOGO DE LAS LEXCJUAS. 21 
 
 that remain to be noticed, one is called " Contempt of 
 Court Life and Praise of the Country " ; and the other, 
 " Counsels for Favorites and Teachings for Courtiers." 
 They are moral discussions, suggested by Castiglione's 
 "Courtier," then at the height of its popularity, and 
 are written with great elaborateness, in a solenni and 
 stiff style, bearing the same relations to truth and wis- 
 dom that Arcadian pastorals do to nature. *° 
 
 All the works of Guevara show the impress of their 
 age, and mark their author's position at court. They 
 are burdened with learning, yet not without proofs of 
 experience in the ways of the world ; — they often 
 show good sense, but they are monotonous from the 
 stately dignity he thinks it necessarj^ to assume on his 
 own account, and from the rhetorical ornament by 
 which he hopes to commend them to the regard of his 
 readers. Such as they are, however, they illustrate and 
 exemplify more truly, perhaps, than anything else of 
 their age, the style of writing most in favor at the court 
 of Charles the Fifth, especially during the latter part of 
 that monarch's reign. 
 
 But by far the best didactic prose work of this pe- 
 riod, though unknown and unpublished till two 
 centuries afterwards, * is that commonly cited * 19 
 under the simple title of " The Dialogue on 
 Languages " ; — a work which, at any time, would be 
 deemed remarkable for the naturalness and purity of its 
 style, and is peculiarly so at this period of formal and 
 elaborate eloquence. " I write," says its author, " as I 
 speak ; only I take more pains to think what I have to 
 say, and then I say it as simply as I can ; for, to my 
 mind, affectation is out of place in all languages." Who 
 
 *"^ Both these treatises were translated tiqnities, ed. Dil)diii, Loudon, 181 U, 
 into English ; the lirst by Sir Francis 4to, Tom. III. p. 460. 
 Briant, in 1548. Atnes's Typog. An-
 
 22 THE PIALO(;0 DE las LENGUAS. [Pf.iuod ii. 
 
 it Avas that entertained an opinion so true, but in his 
 time so uneoninion, is not certain. Probably it was 
 Juan (le A'aldes, a person who has sometimes been said, 
 but not, I think, justly, to have embraced the opin- 
 ions of the Kelbrmation. He was educated at the Uni- 
 versity of Alcala, and during a part of his life jdos- 
 sessed not a little political consequence, being much 
 about the person of the Emperor. It is not known 
 what became of him afterwards ; but he probably died 
 in 1540, six years before Charles the Fifth attempted 
 to establish the Inquisition in Naples, where Valdes 
 lived long, and, therefore, it is not likely that he 
 was seriously molested while he was there, although 
 his opinions were certainh' not always such as the 
 Spani.>ili Church exacted.^^ 
 
 The Dialogue on Languages is supposed to be car- 
 ried on between two Spaniards and two Itahans, at 
 a country-house on the sea-shore, near Naples, and i.s 
 an acute discussion on the origin and character of the 
 Castilian. Parts of it are learned, but in these the au- 
 thor sometimes falls into errors ;*^ other parts are lively 
 and entertaining: ; and vet others are full of o-ood sense 
 and sound criticism. The principal personage — the 
 one wlio gives all the instructions and explanations — 
 is named Valdes ; and, from this circumstance, 
 * 20 as well as from some intimations in the * Dia- 
 logue itself, it may be inferred that Juan de 
 Valdes was its author, and that it was written before 
 
 *i Llorcnte (Hist, ile I'lnquisition, supposed to have been an anti-Triiiita- 
 
 Toin. II. pp. 281 and 478) makes some lian, but McCrie does not admit it. 
 mistakes about Valdes, of whom ac- *- His chief enor is in supposin*:; that 
 
 eounts are to be found in McCrie's the Greek hiuf^uaye once prevaih-d gen- 
 
 " Hist, of the Progi-ess, etc., of the Kef- erally in Spain, and constituted the 
 
 oniiation in Italy," (Kdinlmrgh, 1827, basis of an ancient Spani^il laiifjuage, 
 
 8vo, ]t\>. Kni aiid 121,) and in liis wiiicli, he thinks, Wii.s spnad tiinnij^h 
 
 "Hist, of the Progiess, etc., of the the country before the Honiaus aijjjeared 
 
 l{<'formation in Spain " (Edinl)urgli, in Spain. 
 1829, 8vo, pj). 140-140). Vakles is
 
 Chap. V.] 
 
 JUAN DE VALDES. 
 
 23 
 
 1536 ;'*^ — a point which, ii' ei-;tablishe(l, would account 
 for the suppression of the manuscript, as the work of 
 one inclined to heresy. In any event, the Dialogue 
 was not printed till 1737, and therefore, as a speci- 
 men of pure and easy style, was lost on the age that 
 produced it.** 
 
 *3 The intimations alliidpd to are that 
 the Valdes of the Dialogue had been at 
 Rome ; that he was a jutsoii of some 
 autliority ; and that he liad lived long 
 at Naples, and in otliei- jiaits of Italy. 
 He sjieaks of Garcilasso de la Vega as 
 if he were alive, and Garcilasso died in 
 1536. Llorente, in a passage just cited, 
 calls Valdes the author of the "Dia- 
 logo de las Lenguas"; and Clemencin 
 — a safer authority — does the same, 
 once, in the notes to his edition of Don 
 Quixote, (Tom. IV. ]). 285,) though in 
 other notes lie treats it as if its author 
 were unknown. 
 
 " The "Dialogo de las Lenguas" 
 was not printed till it appeared in 
 Mayans y Siscar, " Origenes de la Len- 
 gua EsjDauola," (Madrid, 1737, 2 tom. 
 12mo, ) where it iills the first half of the 
 second volume, and is the best thing in 
 the collection. Probably the maim- 
 script had been kept out of sight, as 
 the work of a heretic. Mayans says 
 that it could be traced to Zurita, the 
 historian, and that, in 1736, it was 
 purchased for the Royal Library, of 
 which ilayans himself was then libra- 
 rian. Gayangos .says it is now in the 
 British Museum, but this is a mistake. 
 It is a modern copy that is there, num- 
 bered "9939, 4to, Additional MSS." 
 One leaf was wanting, — probably an 
 ex])urgation, — which Mayans could not 
 sujjply ; and, though he seems to have 
 believed Valdes to have been the author 
 of the Dialogue, he avoids saying so, — 
 l)erhaps from an unwillingness to at- 
 tract the notice of tlie Inquisition to it. 
 (Origenes, Tom. I. pp. 173-180.) Iri- 
 arte, in the ' ' Aprobacion " of the col- 
 lection, treats the "Dialogo" as if its 
 author were (piite unknown. 
 
 Since the preceding ])art of this note, 
 and wliat relates to the same subject in 
 the text, were published, in 1840, more 
 lias become known about it, and I will, 
 therefore, give the result as it stands 
 in 1864. 
 
 There were two brotlicrs Valdes, — 
 Juan and Alfonso, — twins, and so le- 
 markably alike in character as well as 
 in e.xternal appearance that Erasiims, 
 speaking of them in a letter dated 
 March 1, 1528, says they did not .sx'eni 
 to be twins, but to be absolutely one 
 person, — "non duo gemelli, sed idem 
 prorsus lioino." They weie both secre- 
 taries to Charles V. ; both went with 
 him to Germany and Italy ; and they 
 both wei-e men of talent and ]iowei-, 
 who wrote and taught in a liberal and 
 wise spirit, rare always, and e.spei:ially 
 in a period like the troubled one in 
 which they lived. From such a re- 
 markable series of resemblances, and 
 from the fact that opinions such as they 
 entertained could not, in tlieii' own 
 times, be very frankly and fully set 
 forth, the two twin bi'others have not 
 infre(p.iently been confounded as to the 
 events of their lives aifil as to the au- 
 thorship of their respective works. 
 
 That Juan wrote the remarkable Dia- 
 logue on the Language there can be no 
 just doubt. Since the account given 
 of it in the text was published in 1849, 
 a much better edition of the work has 
 been published with the imprint of 
 Madrid, 1860, pre])ared from the man- 
 uscript preserved in the National Li- 
 brary there, which is the one used by 
 Mayans in 1737, and the only old one 
 known to exist. It settles this question 
 of the authorship, and renders it ])ro!i- 
 able that the work itself was oiiginally 
 entitled, as it ought to be, "Dialogo de 
 la Lengua," in the singular number, 
 and not "Dialogo de las Lenguas," in 
 the plural, — relating, as it really does, 
 to the Spanish language alone, although 
 reference is necessarily made in its dis- 
 cussions to other languages. But, be- 
 sides the well-considered examination 
 of these points in the jneface of this 
 edition, it contains above a thousand 
 different readings, important and unim- 
 portant, all noteii in the margin, ami
 
 24 
 
 JFAX DE YALDES. 
 
 [PEiUOD II. 
 
 *21 *For us it is important, because it shows, 
 with more distinctness than any other literary 
 monmnent of its time, what was the state of the Span- 
 ish language in the reign of the Emperor Charles the 
 
 showing, as does everytliiiig in ivlation 
 to the preparation of the woik, gieat 
 care and patience. 
 
 Juan de Vahies wrote other works 
 that are chiefly or wholly, like his ex- 
 positions of .St. Paul, religious and the- 
 ological. Of these, the most important, 
 1 .suppo.se, an; his "Alfaheto (.'liris- 
 tiano " and his " t'iento y Diez Conside- 
 raciones," both intended for Chri.stian 
 ■edifii.'ation, and the last very comj)re- 
 liensive in its chai-acter. But uuhap- 
 pily we possess neither of them as 
 their author wrote them in his pure 
 C!a.stilian ; for having been prepared 
 <'.specially for the benefit of Italian 
 friends, the fii-st was published in Ital- 
 ian, without date of place, in l.')46, and 
 the last at Basle in 1550, from which 
 they have pa.ssed successively into the 
 other modern languages, and, among 
 the rest, into the Spanish. His " Con- 
 sideraciones, " in the English version of 
 2>Ji<holas Ferrar, was published at Ox- 
 ford in 1638, and at Cambridge in 1646, 
 Avith notes by Hevl)ert, the pious poet 
 <S the Tenij)!^. See Izaak Walton's 
 Lire of Herbert, 1819, j). 266, noting, 
 nowever, that good Izaak is mi.stakeii 
 in wliat lie says about Valdes. 
 
 Of the works of Alfon.so Valdes, two 
 are especially worth notice, which, un- 
 til lately, were supposed to have been 
 ■wiitten by his aif^'?- cr/o, Juan, and 
 Avhicli, even in the new edition of the 
 "Dialogo de la Lengua," are claimed, 
 on internal eviden(;e, to be partly from 
 his hand. 
 
 They commonly a])])ear under the 
 simple title of " Dos Dialogos," as they 
 •were originally published s. d. about 
 1530. The first of them is a dialogue 
 Vxitween Mi-rcury, Charon, and sundry 
 souls newly arrived on the lianks of the 
 Styx, and mu.st have been written as 
 late as 1528, since it contains a letter 
 from Charles V. <late(l in that year. 
 The other is a dialogue between a 
 young man named Lactaneio, who may 
 represent the autlior, and an ecclesiastic 
 in a military d^(^ss fresh from liome, 
 where, amidst th(; coiifiirsion and vio- 
 lence of its rece.nt captuic, monks and 
 
 ))riests served and dressed as soldiers. 
 These two persons, both Spaniai-ds, 
 meet accidentally in a public square 
 of Valladtdid, and, retiring for quietness 
 into a neighboring church, carry on a 
 free and full discussion of the troubles 
 of their time, the report of which con- 
 stitutes the substance of the "Dialogo." 
 It was probably wiitten in 1528, and 
 was certainly known in 1529, becau.se 
 in that year Alfonso Valdes is rebuked 
 as its author for his heretical opinion.s 
 by Castiglione, the Pope's Xuncio in 
 Spain, who tells him that if he were to 
 visit Germany he would be heartily 
 welcomed bj'- Luther. 
 
 Both of the.se curious and interesting 
 discus.sions were intended to defend the 
 Emperor in whatever lelates to the cap- 
 ture of Pome and the challenge of Fran- 
 cis 1., — recent events whicli were then 
 in the mouths of all men. In each we 
 have not a few im])oitant i'acts touching 
 what had occurred within their author's 
 knowledge, and still more frequently 
 glimp.ses of the state of opinion ami 
 feeling at a period of the greatest ex- 
 citement and anxiety. In each, too, 
 there is a large admixture of the spirit 
 of religiovis controversy ; but though 
 the vices of the priesthood and the low 
 condition of Christianity in the world 
 are li-eely exposed in many pa.ssages, I 
 do not think that Valdes (ran be ac- 
 counted a Protestant, as he has often 
 been ; for although the tone of his 
 mind and character is eminently spir- 
 itual, and although his opinions are 
 full of temperance and wisdou), still 
 his admiration for the Emjieror is un- 
 bounded and his submission to the Pope 
 and the Church complete. The charm 
 of both the Dialogues, thei'efore, con- 
 sists in their pure and sjiirited style, 
 their point and humor, and their exlu- 
 bition, by quaint details and remark- 
 able facts, of the verj' form and pre.ssuiv 
 of the extraorilinary times to which 
 they relate. They weie prepared and 
 l)ul)lished anew in 1850, without dati' 
 of ]ilace, b-.it 1 sujipo.se in Madrid, b\ 
 the same peison who in 1860 piej'ared 
 and edited the "Dialogo de la Lengua."
 
 CiiAi'. v.] THE SPANISH ].AN(;UAGE. 25 
 
 FiClli; a circumstance of consequence to the connition 
 of the literature, and one to which we therefore turn 
 Avith interest. 
 
 As might be expected, we find, when we look l)ack, 
 that the language of letters in Spain has made material 
 progress since we last noticed it in the reign of John 
 the Second. The example of Juan de Mena had been 
 followed, and the national vocabulary had been en- 
 riched during the interval of a century, by successive 
 poets, from the languages of classical antiquity. From 
 other sources, too, and through other channels, im- 
 portant contributions had flowed in. From America 
 and its commerce had come the names of those produc- 
 tions which half a century of intercourse liad brought 
 to Spain, and rendered familiar there, — terms few^ 
 indeed, in number, but of daily use.*^ From Germany 
 and the Low Countries still more had been introduced 
 by the accession of Charles the Fifth,^' who, to the 
 great annoyance of his Spanish subjects, arrived in 
 Spain surrounded by foreign courtiers, and speaking 
 with a stranger accent the language of the country he 
 was called to govern.*" A few words, too, had come acci- 
 
 For what relates to the hi'others of him, was written l)y Fiiend AViffen 
 
 Vakle.s, see the editions of the " C'iento and ])nblished in Lomhju in 1865; but 
 
 y Diez Consideraciones," 1855 and 1863, I liad not the benefit of it wlien the 
 
 the edition of the " Alfabeto Chris- preceding remarks were jm^parei], as 
 
 tiano," 1861, that of the "Dialogode that was a year earlier. Indee<l, tliougli 
 
 hi Lengua," 1860, and that of the "Dos the Life by Witfen contains much that 
 
 Dialogos," 1850, — all, I snjjpose, print- is important about the ])olitical and 
 
 ed in Madrid, though not all so desig- religious character of Valdes, I found 
 
 nated by their editors, Don Luis de nothing in it to add to my notice of 
 
 Usoz y Rio and Benjamin B. Wiffen, him as a man of letters, 
 a Quaiver gentleman living near Bed- *^ Mayans y Siscar, On'genes, Tom. 
 
 ford, and brother of the translator of L v- 97. 
 Garcilasso de la Vega. See, also, the *'' Ibid., ]). 98. 
 
 interesting discussion relating to the *'' Sandoval says that C'haides V. suf- 
 
 brothers Valdes in M. Young's "Life fered gi-eatly in the opinion of tlie Span- 
 
 and Times of AonioPaleario," London, iards, on his first arrival in Spain, be- 
 
 1860, 8vo, Vol. I. ])p. 201-238 and cause, owing to his inability to .speak 
 
 547-551. Spanish, they had hardly any proper 
 
 A Life of Juan de Valdes, containing intercourse with him. It was, he add.s, 
 
 everything that can probably be known as if they could not tiilk with him at
 
 2r. 
 
 THE SPAXISII LAX(;rA(ip: 
 
 [PK11I..1) II. 
 
 dentall}' from France ; and now, in the reign of Pliiiip 
 the Second, a great number, amounting to the most 
 considerable infusion the hmguage had received since 
 the time of the Arabs, were brought in througli the 
 intimate connection of Spain with Italy and the in- 
 creasing influence of Italian letters and Italian cul- 
 ture.*^ 
 * 22 * We may therefore consider that the Spanish 
 lanoruaii'e at this period was not onh- Ibruied, 
 but that it had reached substantially its full pro- 
 portions, and had received all its essential charac- 
 teristics. Indeed, it had already for half a century 
 been regularly cared for and cultivated. Alonso de 
 Palencia, who had long been in the service of his coun- 
 try as an ambassador, and was afterwards its chroni- 
 cler, published a Latin and Spanish Dictionary in 1490 ; 
 the oldest in which Castilian definitions and etymolo- 
 o-ies are to Ijc found.*^ This was succeeded, two ^ears 
 later, by the first Castilian Grammar, the work of An- 
 
 all. Historia, Anvors, 1681, folio, Tom. 
 
 I. ]). 141. When he uiulcitook to hear 
 cau.ses in clianceiy he lound himself 
 .still more uncomfortably .situated. (Ar- 
 gensola, Anales de Aragon, Zaragoza, 
 1630, folio, Tom. I. p. 441.) The Cor- 
 tes, perhaps, remembered this when 
 Pliilip II. ('ame to the throne, and they 
 niiidc it their very first petition to him 
 to liv(; always in Siiain. Cajiitulos y 
 Leyes, Cortes de Valladolid, Valladolid, 
 15.-)8, f. 1. 
 
 *" Mayans y Siscar, Ori'genes, Tom. 
 
 II. ]>]i. "127-133. The author of the 
 Dialogo urges tht: introduction of a con- 
 -siderable number of words from the 
 Italian, such as discvrsn, facilitnr, ftm- 
 tiisio, voir hi, etc., which have long 
 ,sini;i' been ailopted and fully recognized 
 liy the .\i'ademy. Diego de Mendoza, 
 though iiartly of the Italian school, ob- 
 jected to th<* word ccidinfla as a need- 
 less Italianism ; but it was .soon fully 
 received into the language. (Guerra 
 de Granada, ed. 177f), Lib. III. c. 7, 
 
 p. 176.) A little later, Luis Velez de 
 Guevara, in Tranco X. of his "Diablo 
 Cojuelo," denied citizeu.ship to fuhfor, 
 jnirpureur, 2)ompa, and other words now 
 in good use. So, too, Figueroa (in his 
 Pasagero, 1617, f. 8.5. b) complains of 
 the additions to the Spanish of his 
 time : "Se han ido poco a poco con- 
 virtiendo en propios muchos meramente 
 Latinos, como rcjndsa, idonen, Iitstro, 
 prole, postcriddd, astro, y otros sin nu- 
 mero." But all he enumerates are now 
 recognized Castilian. (Jayangos cites 
 Francisco Nunez de Velasco, in his 
 "Dialogos de Contencion entre la mili- 
 cia y la cieneia," as eoni))laiuing that 
 Italian woids and jihrases were intro- 
 dtieed needlessly into the Castilian. 
 But Nunez reckons Estala (stable) and 
 Estival ^hoot) among them, not know- 
 ing they are Teutonic. (Spani.sh Trans- 
 lation, 11. 513.) 
 
 *« Mendez, Typographia, \k 17.'). An- 
 tonio, Bib. Vetus, ed. Bayer, Tom. II. 
 p. 333.
 
 CiiAi-. v.] TIIK SPANISH LANGUAGE. 27 
 
 tonio do Lebrixa, who had Ijcfore puljUshed a l^atiu 
 Grainiuar in the Latin hmgiiage, and transhited it for 
 the benefit, as he tells us, of the ladies of the court.'^'^ 
 Other similar and equally successful attempts followed. 
 A purely Spanish Dictionar}^ by Lebrixa, the first of its 
 kind, appeared in 1492, and a Dictionary for ecclesias- 
 tical purposes, in both Latin and Spanish, by Santa 
 Ella, succeeded it in 1499 ; both often reprinted after- 
 wards, and long regarded as standard authorities.'^^ 
 All these works, so important for the consolidation of 
 the language, and so well constructed that successors 
 to them were not found till above a century later,''^ 
 were, it should be observed, produced under the direct 
 and personal patronage of Queen Isabella, who, in this, 
 as in so many other ways, gave proof at once 
 of her far-sightedness in affairs of * state, and * 23 
 of her wise tastes and preferences in whatever 
 regarded the intellectual cultivation of her subjects.^^ 
 
 The language thus formed was now fast spreading 
 throughout the kingdom, and displacing dialects some 
 of which, as old as itself, had seemed, at one period, 
 destined to surpass it in cultivation and general preva- 
 lence. The ancient Galician, in which Alfonso the 
 Wise was educated, and in which he sometimes wrote, 
 was now known as a polite language only in Portugal, 
 where it had risen to be so independent of the stock 
 from which it sprang as almost to disavow its origin. 
 The Valencian and Catalonian, those kindred dialects 
 of the ProveiK^al race, whose influences in the thir- 
 
 ^^ Meudez, Typog., pp. 239-242. ^"■^ The Grammar of Juan de Navi- 
 
 For the great merits of Antonio de Le- dad, 1567, is not an exception to this 
 
 brixa, in relation to the Spanish Ian- remark, because it was intended to 
 
 guage, see "Specimen Bibliothecaj His- teach Spanish to Italians, and not to na- 
 
 pano-MayansianiB ex Museo D. Clemen- tives. 
 
 tis," Hannoverte, 1753, 4to, pp. 4-39. ^^ Clemencin, in Mem. de la Aca- 
 
 61 Mendez, ^ip. 243 and 212, and An- demia de Historia, Tom. VI. p. 472, 
 
 tonio, Bib. Nova, Tom. 11. p. 266. notes.
 
 28 THE CAfeTILlAN. [Pi:ku)D II, 
 
 teenth century were felt through the whole Peninsula^ 
 claimed, at this period, something of their earlier dig- 
 nity only below the last range of hills on the coast of 
 the Mediterranean. The Biscayan alone, unchanged 
 as tlie mountains which sheltered it, still preserved for 
 itself the same separate character it had at the earliest 
 dawnings of tradition, — a character which has con- 
 tinued essentially the same down to our own times. 
 
 But, though the Castilian, advancing with the whole 
 authority of the government, which at this time spoke 
 to the f)eople of all Spain in no other language, was 
 heard and acknowledged throughout the country as 
 the language of the state and of all political power, 
 still the popular and local habits of four centuries 
 could not be at once or entirely broken up. The Gali- 
 cian, the Valencian, and the Catalonian continued to 
 be spoken in the age of Charles the Fifth, and are 
 spoken now by the masses of the people in their re- 
 spective provinces, and to some extent in tlie refined 
 society of each. Even Andalusia and Aragon have not 
 yet emancipated themselves completely from their 
 original idioms ; and, in the same way, each of the 
 other grand divisions of the country, several of which 
 were at one time independent kingdoms, are still, like 
 Estremadura and La Mancha, distinguished by ])ecu- 
 
 liarities of ^phraseology and accent.^^ 
 * 24 * Castile, alone, and especially Old Castile, 
 
 claims, as of inlierited right, from the l)egin- 
 ning of the fifteenth century, the prerogative of speak- 
 ing absolutely pure Spanish. Villalobos, it is true, who 
 was always a flatterer of ro3'al authority, insisted that 
 
 ^ It is curious to observe that tlie Sarniicnto, (Mcuiorias, ]). 04,) who wrote 
 
 aiitlior of tlic, "Di;ih)g0(le las Lciiguas," ahout 1760, all sjjcak of the charac- 
 
 (On'geiies, Tom. II. p. 31,) who wrote tcr of the Castiliau and the ytreva- 
 
 about 153.5, — Mayans, (Origiiies, Tom. lence of the dialcets in nearly the same 
 
 I. p. 8,) who wrote in 1737, — and terms.
 
 Chap, v.] THE CA.STIHAN OF TOLEDO. 29 
 
 this prerogative followed the residences of the sov- 
 ereign and the court ; '^ but the better opinion has 
 been that the purest form of the Castilian must be 
 sought at Toledo, — the Imi^erial Toledo, as it was 
 called, — peculiarly favored when it was the political 
 capital of the ancient monarchy in the time of the 
 Goths, and consecrated anew as the ecclesiastical head 
 of all Christian Spain, the moment it was rescued from 
 the hands of the Moors.^*^ It has even been said that 
 the supremacy of this venerable city in the purity of 
 its dialect was so fully settled, from the first appear- 
 ance of the language, as the language of the state in 
 the thirteenth century, that Alfonso the Wise, in a 
 Cortes held there, directed the meaning of any dis- 
 puted word to be settled by its use at Toledo.^'^ But, 
 however this may be, there is no question that, from 
 the time of Charles the Fifth to the present day, the 
 Toledan has been considered, on the whole, the 
 normal form of the national * language, and * 25 
 that, from the same period, the Castilian dia- 
 
 ** De las Fiebres Interpoladas, Metro (Francisco de Pisa, Descripcion de la 
 
 I., Obras, 1543, f. 27. Imperial C'iudad de Toledo, ed. Thomas 
 
 ^ See Maiiana's account of the glo- Tamaio de Vargas, Toledo, 1617, fol., 
 
 ries of Toledo, Historia, Lib. XVI. c. Lib. L c. 36, f. 56.) The Cortes here 
 
 15, and elsewhere. He was himself referred to is said by Pisa to have been 
 
 from the kingdom of Toledo, and often held in 1253 ; in which year the Chron- 
 
 boasts of its renown. Cervantes, in icle of Alfonso X. (Valladolid, 1554, 
 
 Don Qui.xote, (Parte II. c. 19,) implies fol., c. 2) represents the king to have 
 
 that the Toledan was accounted the been there. (See, also, Paton, Elo- 
 
 purest Spanish of his time. It still quencia Espanola, 1604, f. 12.) 
 
 claims to be so in ours. A similar legal as well as traditional 
 
 ^^ " Also, at the same Cortes, the claim for the supremacy of the Toledan 
 
 same King, Don Alfonso X., ordered, dialect is set up in the "Historia de 
 
 if thereafter there should be a doubt Tobias," a poem b3'Cau(li\'illaSantaren, 
 
 in any part of his kingdom about the 1615, Canto XL, where, speaking of 
 
 meaning of any Castilian word, that ref- Toledo, he says : — 
 
 erence thereof should be had to this Entre otros muchos bienes y favores 
 
 city as to the standard of the Castilian Q"''' soberano Dios hizo a"est;i gente 
 
 tongue, [como i metro de la lenglia De hablar su Castellano castamente. 
 
 Lastellana,J and that they should \ mnApnr justahy rie EmiHnolorcs, 
 
 adopt the meaning and definition here Seordeui, qut', si aia:un<),i'standoausente, 
 
 given to sucli word, because our tongue ^"'^'i'-' ••"•''l^'^'' vocablo porfiasso, 
 
 V f . 1 ji , i""o"'' Quel que so usaun Toledo guarcla.sso. 
 
 IS more jwrlect here than elsewhere. f. 1.90, a.
 
 30 
 
 THE CASTILIAN OF TOLEDO. 
 
 [Period H. 
 
 lect, having vindicated for itself an absolute suprem- 
 acy over all the other dialects of the monarchy, has 
 been the only one recognized as the language of the 
 classical poetry and prose of the whole country .^^ 
 
 ^ From the time of Cliarles V., too, 
 ami as a natural result of his conquests 
 and inlluenee throughout Europe, the 
 Spanish language hecanie known and 
 adniiied alnoad, as it had never been 
 before. Marguerite de Valois, sister of 
 Francis 1., who went, in 1525, to Ma- 
 drid and consoled her brother in his 
 captivity there, says : Le Langage Cas- 
 tillan est sans comparaison mieux de- 
 clarant cette passion d'amour que n'est 
 le Francois (Heptameron, Journee III., 
 Nouvelie 24, ed. Paris, 1615, p. 263). 
 And Donienichi, in Ulloa's translation 
 of his Piazonamiento de Empresas Mill- 
 tares, (Leon, de Francia, 1561, 4to, p. 
 175,) says of the Spanish, "Eslengua 
 
 mil 3" comun a todas naciones," — a 
 striking fact for an Italian to mention. 
 Richelieu liked to write in Spanish 
 (Haveniann, p. 312). The marriage 
 of Pliilip II. with Mary Tudor carried 
 the Spanish to the English Court, where 
 for a time it had some vogue, and Charles 
 himself, as Emperor, spread it through 
 Germany, as he did, in other ways and 
 from other similar inilueuce.s, through 
 Flanders and Ital)'. Other cnriou.s facts 
 of the same sort, showing the spread 
 of Spanish in Italy and France about 
 the middle of the sixteenth centmy, 
 may be found in the Prologo to Paton's 
 Eloc^uencia Espanola, 1604, pp. 7, 
 sqq.
 
 *CHAPTEE VI. *26 
 
 CHRONICLING PERIOD GONE BY. — CHARLES THE FIFTH. — GUEVARA. — OCAM- 
 
 PO. SEPULVEDA. MEXIA. ACCOUNTS OF THE NEW WORLD. CORTES. 
 
 GOMARA. — BERNAL DIAZ. OVIEDO. LAS CASAS. VACA. XEREZ. 
 
 CARATE. 
 
 At the beginning of the sixteenth century, it is 
 i^bvious that the age for chronicles had gone by in 
 Spain. ^ Still it was thought for the dignity of the 
 monarchy that the stately forms of the elder time 
 should, in this as in other particulars, be kept up by 
 public authority. Charles the Fifth, therefore, as if 
 his ambitious projects as a conqueror were to find their 
 counterpart in his arrangements for recording their 
 success, had several authorized chroniclers, all men of 
 consideration and learning. But the shadow on the 
 dial would not go back at the royal command. The 
 greatest monarch of his time could appoint chron- 
 iclers, but he could not give them the spirit of an 
 age that was past. The chronicles he demanded 
 at their hands were either never undertaken or never 
 finished. Antonio de Guevara, one of the persons to 
 whom these duties were assigned, seems to have been 
 singularly conscientious in the devotion of his time to 
 them ; for we are told that, by his will, he ordered the 
 
 ^ One proof that the age of chroiii- lioteca de Autores Espanoles, 1855. It 
 
 cling was gone by may be found in the was no fool that wrote it, nor the few 
 
 burlesque chronicle of a court-fool, in letters that follow, though he bore that 
 
 the early part of the reign of Charles title at court, and enjoyed its privi- 
 
 V., entitled "Cronica de Don Fran- leges. The style is easy and the lan- 
 
 •cesillo de Zuhiga, criado privado bien- guage pure, but there is less finish than 
 
 '£uisto y predicador del Emperador Car- wit in it, and more sense than histoi'i- 
 
 los v. dirigida a su Majestad por el cal facts. It is what its title implies, 
 
 mismo Don Frances." It was first a caricature of the chronicling style 
 
 published in Vol. XXX VI. of the Bib- then going out of fashion.
 
 32 FLOIUAN DE OCAMrO. |1'kilimi> II. 
 
 salary of one year, during wliicli he had written noth- 
 ing of In's task, to be returned to the Imperial trea.s- 
 
 ury. This, however, did not imply that he was 
 * 27 a successful * chronicler.^ What he wrote was 
 
 not thought worthy of being published by 
 his contemporaries, and would probably be judged no 
 more favorabl}- by the present generation, mdess it 
 discovered a greater regard for historical truth, and a 
 simpler style, than are found in his discussions on the 
 life and character of the Emjjeror Marcus Aurelius/^ 
 
 Florian de Ocampo, another of the more distin- 
 guished of the chroniclers, showed a wide ambition in 
 the plan he proposed to himself; beginning his chroni- 
 cles of Charles the Fifth as for back as the days 
 of Noah's flood. As might have been foreseen, he 
 lived only so long as to finish a small fragment of his 
 vast undertaking; — hardly a quarter part of the first 
 of its four grand divisions."^ But he Avent for enough 
 to show how completely the age for such writing was 
 passed away.^ Not that he failed in credulity ; for of 
 that he had more than enough. It Avas not, however, 
 the poetical credulity of his predecessors, trusting to 
 the old national traditions, but an easy faith, that 
 believed in the Mearisome foro-eries called the works 
 of Berosus and Manetho,*' which had been discredited 
 from their first appearance half a centurj^ before, and 
 
 - Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. 1. p. 127, ])uljlishe(l at Zanuna, ir)44, in a licau- 
 
 and Preface to Epistolas Familiares of tiful black-lettei folio, and was In! lowed 
 
 Guevara, ed. 1G73. by an edition ol' the whole at Medina 
 
 ^ See the vituperative article Giic- del Cainpo, looS, folio. The liest, I 
 
 vara, in Bayle. suppose, is tlie one ])ublished at Ma- 
 
 * The best life of Oeanipo is to be diid, 17!*!, in 2 vols. 4to. 
 found in the " Biblioteca de los Escri- *' For this miserable forgery see Nice- 
 tores ((ue fian sido Individuuos de los ron (llommes Illustres, Paris, 1730, 
 Seis Colegios Mayores," etc., ])or Don Tom. XI. pp. 1-11; Tom. XX. 1732, 
 .T(jsef de Kezabal y Ugarte (pji. 233- ]tp. 1-6); and for the simplicity of 
 238) ; but there is one ])refixed to the Ocampo in tru.sting to it, see the last 
 edit.iou of his Criinica, 1791. chapter of his first book, and all the 
 
 ^ Tlie first edition of the first four passages where he cites Juan de ViterbO' 
 
 books of the Chronicle of Ocampo was y su Beroso, etc.
 
 €iiAP. XL] SEPUJA'EDA, MEXIA. OO 
 
 yet were now used l)y Oeampo as if they were the 
 probable, if not the sufticient records of an nninter- 
 rnpted succession of Spanisli kings from Tubal, a 
 grandson of Noah. Such a credulity has no charm 
 about it. But, besides this, the work of Oeampo, in its 
 very structure, is dry and absurd ; and, being written 
 in a formal and heavy style, it is all but impossible 
 to read it. He died in 1555, the year the Emperor 
 abdicated, leaving us little occasion to regret 
 that *he had brought his annals of Spain no * 28 
 lower down than the age of the Scipios.' 
 
 Juan Ginez de Sepulveda was also charged hy the 
 Emperor fitly to record the events of his reign ;^ and 
 so was Pero Mexia ; ^ but the history of the former, 
 which was first published by the Academy in 1780, is 
 in Latin, while that of Mexia, written, apparently, 
 after 1545, and coming down to the coronation at 
 Bologna, has been published only in part.^*^ A larger 
 
 " The Cortes of Valladolid, 1555, in He was not appointed Historiographer 
 their "Peticiones" cxxviii and exxix, till 1548. See notices of him by Pa- 
 ask a pension for Oeampo, and say that checo, in the Senianario Pintoresco, 
 he was then fifty-five years old, and 1844, p. 406. He died in 1552. The 
 had been chronicler from 1539. (See History of the Emperor, which breaks 
 "Capitulos y Leyes," Valladolid, folio, oft' with Book V., is among the MSS. 
 1558, f. Ixi.) in the National Library at Madrid, and 
 
 ^ Pero Mexia, in the concluding words the second Book of it, relating to the 
 
 of his "Historia Imperial y Cesarea." war of the Comimidades in Castile, may 
 
 Sepulveda, who lived twenty-two years be found in the Bib. de Autores Es- 
 
 in Italy, and was almost as much of an paiioles (Tom. XXL, 1852). The whole 
 
 Italian as a Spaniard, died in 1573, iet. is much praised by Ferrer del Rio for 
 
 83, at a country house in the Sierra its skilful arrangement and i)ure and 
 
 Morena, which he describes very pleas- dignified style, and ought to be pub- 
 
 antly in one of his unpublished letters. lished ; but the portion given to us is 
 
 (See Alcedo, Biblioteca Americana, ad outrageously loyal. 
 
 verb. Gines de Sepiilveda, MS.) It From the time of Charles V. there 
 
 may not be amiss to add that Sepul- seem generally to have been chroniclers 
 
 veda's Latin style is very agreeable. of the kingdom and occasionally chron- 
 
 ^ Capmar.y, Eloquencia Es[)anola, iclers of the personal history of its 
 
 Tom. 11. p. 295. kings. At any rate, that monarch had 
 
 ^™ I say "apparently," because, in Oeampo and Garibay for the first pur- 
 
 his "Historia Imperial y Cesarea," he pose, and Guevara, Sepulveda, and 
 
 declares, speaking of the achievements Mexia for the .second. Lorencjo de 
 
 of Charles V., "I never was .so pre- Padilla, Archdeacon of Malaga, is also 
 
 sumptuous as to deem myself sufticient mentioned by Dormer (Progresos, Lib. 
 
 to record them." This was in 1545. II. c. 2) as one of his chroniclers. In-
 
 34 FERNANDO CORTES. [Vi:nu,i, IL 
 
 history, however, by the last author, consisting of the 
 hves of all the Roman Emperors from Julius Ciesar to 
 ]\hiximilian of xVustria, the jDreclecessor of Charles the 
 Fifth, which was printed several times, and is spoken 
 of as an introduction to his Chronicle, shows, notwith- 
 standing its many imperfections of style, that his pur- 
 j^ose was to write a true and well-digested history, 
 since he generally refers, under each reign, to the 
 authorities on which he relies.^^ 
 
 Such works as these prove to us that Ave have 
 reached the final limit of the old chronicling style, and 
 that we must now look for the apj^earance 
 * 29 of the difterent forms of * regular historical 
 composition in Spanish literature. But, before 
 we approach them, we must pause a moment on a few 
 histories and accounts of the New World, Avhich, dur- 
 ino- the reio;n of Charles the Fifth, were of more im- 
 portance than the im})cifcct chronicles we have ju.st 
 noticed of the Sj)anish empire in Europe. For as soon 
 as the adventurers that followed Columbus were landed 
 on the western shores of the Atlantic, we begin to 
 find narratives, more or less ample, of their discoveries 
 and settlements : some written Avitli spirit, and even 
 in good taste ; others quite unattractive in their style ; 
 but nearly all interesting from their subject and their 
 materials, if from nothing else. 
 
 In the foreground of this picturesque group stands, 
 as the most brilliant of its figures, Fernando Cortes, 
 called, by way of eminence, £Ji Couqnhtador, the Con- 
 queror. He was born of noble parentage, and carefully 
 bled ; and though his fiery spirit drove him from 
 
 ilwd, it (Iocs not seem e^sy to deter- '^ Tlie first editiuii apjyeaied in 1545. 
 
 inine how many enjoyed the honor of Tlie one I use is of Anveis, 1561, fol. 
 
 that tith'. Porrefto'says Pliilip II. The best notice of liis life, jierhaps, is 
 
 was too modest to have a eiironidcr. tlie article about liiiu jn the Bio<(raphie 
 
 Diehos, etc., l<)(i(), y. 130. ITuivcrs.-llc.
 
 Chap. VI. ] 
 
 FERNANDO CORTES. 
 
 35 
 
 Salamanca before his education could be completed, 
 and brought him to the New World, in 1504, when he 
 was hardly nineteen years old,^'-^ still the nurture of his 
 youth, so much better than that of most of the other 
 American adventurers, is ap])arent in his voluminous 
 documents and letters, both published and unpul)lished. 
 Of these, the most remarkable were, no doubt, four or 
 five long and detailed Eeports to the Emperor on the 
 affairs of Mexico ; the first of which was dated, it is 
 said, in 1519, and the last in 1526.^3 The four 
 known to be his are well written, and * have a * 30 
 business-like air about them, as well as a clear- 
 ness and good taste, which remind us sometimes of the 
 "Relazioni" of Machiavelli, and sometimes of Ccesar's 
 Commentaries. His letters, on the other hand, are 
 occasionally more ornamented. In an unpublished 
 one, written about 1533, and in which, when his for- 
 tunes were waning, he sets forth his services and his 
 
 *'^ He left Salamanca two or three 
 years before he came to the New World ; 
 but old Denial Diaz, who knew him 
 well, says : ' ' He was a scholar, and I 
 have heard it said he was a Bachelor of 
 Laws ; and when he talked with law- 
 yers and scholars, he answered in Latin. 
 He was somewhat of a poet, and made 
 coplas in metre and in prose, [en metro 
 y en prosa,]" etc. (Concpiista, 1632, 
 c. 203.) It would be amusing to see 
 poems by Cortes, and especially what 
 the rude old chronicler calls coplas e>i 
 prosa ; but he knew about as much 
 concerning such matters as Mons. Jour- 
 dain. Cortes, however, was always 
 fond of the society of cultivated men. 
 In his house at Madrid, (see ante, ]>. 11, 
 n. 21,) after his return from America, 
 was held one of those Academias which 
 were then beginning to be imitated from 
 Italy. 
 
 ^^ The printer! "Relaciones" maybe 
 found in Barcia, " Historiadores Prinii- 
 tivos de las Indias Occiden tales," (Ma- 
 drid, 1749, 3 toiii., folio,)— a collec- 
 tion i)nl)li.slu'd after its editor's death, 
 
 and very ill arranged. Barcia was a 
 man of literary distinction, much em- 
 jjloyed in affairs of state, and one of the 
 founders of the Spanish Academy. He 
 died in 1743. ( Baena, Hijos de Ma- 
 drid, Tom. L p. 106.) For tlie last 
 and unpublished " Relacion " of Cortes* 
 as well as for his unpublished letters, I 
 am indebted to my friend Mi\ Prescott, 
 who has so well used them in his "Con- 
 quest of Mexico." 
 
 Since this note was first published, 
 (1849,) the last Relacion has been print- 
 ed, (Ijib. de Autores Espaholes, Tom. 
 XXII. 1852,) and is found to be dated 
 September 3, 1526. A letter from the 
 ".lusticia y Regimiento" of Vera Cruz, 
 dated July 10, 1519, is prefixed to this 
 series of four, as if it were itself the 
 first Relacion; and perhaps it may thus 
 have given lise originally to the idea 
 that a Relacion of Cortes was lost, when 
 it was never written. It seems to me 
 likely that there never were but four 
 by Cortes himself, although the one by 
 the Ji/s/icia, 1519, is of similar charac- 
 ter and authority.
 
 36 GOMAEA. [PKKinij II. 
 
 wrongs, he pleases himself "with telling the Emperor 
 that he '-keeps two of his Majesty's letters like holy 
 relics," adding that "the favors of his Majesty towards 
 him had been quite too ample for so small a vase " ; — 
 courtly and graceful phrases, such as are not found in 
 the documents of his later years, when, disappointed 
 and disgusted with affairs and with the court, he re- 
 tired to a morose solitude, where he died in 1554, 
 little consoled by his rank, his wealth, or his glor}^. 
 The marvellous achievements of Cortes in Mexico, 
 however, were more fully, if not more accurately, 
 recorded by Francisco Lopez de Gomara, — the oldest 
 of the regular historians of the New World,^* — wlio 
 was born at Seville in 1510, and was, for some time, 
 Professor of Rhetoric at Alcala. His early life, spent 
 in the great mart of American adventurers, seems to 
 have o'iven him an interest in them and a knowledo-e 
 of their affairs, Avhicli led him to write their history ; 
 and a residence in Italy, to which he refers more than 
 once, and during which, in Venice and Bologna, he 
 became familiar with such remarkable men as Saxo 
 Grannnaticus and Olaus Magnus, enlarged his knowl- 
 edge beyond the common reach of Spanish scholars of 
 his time, and fitted him better for his task than he 
 could have been fitted at home. The works he pro- 
 duced, besides one or two of less consequence, 
 * 31 *were, first, his ''History of the Indies," which, 
 after the Spanish fashion, begins with the crea- 
 tion of the world, and ends with the glories of Spain, 
 though it is chiefly devoted to Columbus and the dis- 
 covery and conquest of Peru ; and, second, his " Chron- 
 icle of New Spain," which is, in truth, merely the His- 
 
 '•• "Tlie first worthy of being so called," says Munoz, Hist, del Xuevo Mundo, 
 Madrid, 1793, folio, ]>. xviii.
 
 Chai'. XL] GOMAEA, BERNAL DIAZ. O/ 
 
 tory «ind Life of Cortes, and Avliicli, with this more 
 appropriate title, was reprinted by Bustamante, in 
 Mexico, in 1826.^'^ As the earhest records that were 
 published concerning affairs which already stirred the 
 whole of Christendom, these works had, at once, a 
 great success, passing through two editions almost 
 immediately, and being soon translated into French, 
 English, and Italian. 
 
 But, though Gomara's style is easy and flowing, 
 both in his mere narration and in those parts of his 
 ^vorks wdiieh so amply describe the resources of the 
 newly discovered countries, he did not succeed in 
 producing anything of pennanent authority. He was 
 the secretary of Cortes, and w^as misled by information 
 received from him, and from other persons, who w^ere 
 too much a part of the story they undertook to relate 
 to tell it fairly .^*^ His mistakes, in consequence, are 
 great and frequent, and were exposed with much zeal 
 by Bernal Diaz, an old soldier, wdio, having already 
 been twice to the New World, w^ent wdth Cortes to 
 Mexico in 1519,^^ and fought there so often and 
 
 ^5 The two works of GoiDara may he his chaplain and servant, after he was 
 
 well consulted in Barcia, " Historia- made Marquis and returned to Spain 
 
 dores Primitives," Tom. II., which they the last time." Las Casas, (Historia 
 
 till, and in Vol. XXII. of the Biblio- de las Indias, Parte III. c. 113, MS.,) 
 
 teca of Ribadeneyra. They were first a prejudiced witness, but, on a point of 
 
 printed in 1552, 1553, and 1554 ; and fact within his own knowledge, one to 
 
 though, as Antonio says, (Rib. Nov., be believed. 
 
 Tom. I. p. 437, ) they were at once for- ^"^ See "Historia Verdadera de la 
 bidden to be either reprinted or read, Conquista de la Nueva Espana, per el 
 four editions of them appeared before Capitan Bernal Diaz del Castillo, uno 
 the end of the century. They were de los Conquistadores," Madrid, 1632, 
 also translated into English, Italian, folio, cap. 211. It was prepared for 
 and French, and ]n-inted several times publication l)y Alfonso Ramon, or Re- 
 in each language. mon, who wrote the History of the 
 
 ^^ "About this first going of Cortes Order of Mercy and many other works, 
 
 as captain on this expedition, the eccle- including dramas. Conf. N. Ant., Bib. 
 
 siastic Gomara tells many things grossly Nov., Tom. I. p. 42. But his edition 
 
 untrue in his history, as might be ex- (1632) does not seem to have been 
 
 pected from a man who neither saw nor printed from a complete manuscript, 
 
 heard anything about them, except and the more recent one of Cano, in 
 
 what Fernando Cortes told him and four volumes, is mutilated from that 
 
 gave him in writing; Gomara being of 1632. But it is reprinted in Riba-
 
 38 BEEXAL DIAZ, OVIEDO. [rEinuD II. 
 
 * 32 so * long, that, many years afterwards, he de- 
 clared he could not sleep in any tolerable com- 
 fort without his arinor.^^ As soon as he read the 
 accounts of Gomara, which, in his opinion, gave too 
 much honor to Cortes and too little to Cortes's com- 
 panions and captains, he set himself sturdily at work 
 to answer them, and in 1568 completed his task.^^ 
 The book he thus produced is written with much gar- 
 rulity, and runs, in a rude style, into wearisome details ; 
 but it is full of the zealous and honest nationality 
 of the old chronicles, so that while we are reading it 
 we seem to be carried back into the preceding ages, 
 and to be again in the midst of a sort of fervor and 
 faith which, in writers like Gomara and Cortes, we feel 
 sure we are ftist leaving behind us. 
 
 Among the persons who early came to America, and 
 have left important records of their adventures and 
 times, one of the most considerable was Gonzalo Fer- 
 nandez de Oviedo y Valdes. He was born at Madrid, 
 in 1478,^ and, having been well educated at the court 
 of Ferdinand and Isabella, as one of the mozos de 
 camara of Prince John, was sent out in 1513 as a super- 
 visor of gold-smeltings, to Tierra Finne^^ where, except 
 
 denejTa's Bibliotoca, Vol. XXVI., 1853, charger as carefully as he does those 
 
 with a good jircfatory notice by Don of his rider. His accuracy, however, 
 
 Enri([ue ih; Vedia, doing justice to the — hating accidents from tlie lapse of 
 
 brave old chronicler, who never re- time, — is remarkable. Sayas ^Anah-s 
 
 turned to Spain, and died very old at de Aragon, 1667, c. 30, p. 218) bears 
 
 Guatemala. witness to it, and is a good authority. 
 
 1" He says he was in one hundied '•'*' "Yo naci anode 1478," he says, 
 and nineteen battles, (f. 254, b, ) — that in his "Quinquagenas," when noticing 
 is, I suppose, fights of all kinds, — Pedro Fernandez de Cordoba ; and he 
 and that, of the five hundred and fifty moic than once speaks of himself as a 
 who went witli him to Mexico in 1519, native of Madrid. He says, too, ex- 
 five were living when he WTote at Gua- pressly, tliat he was present at the sur- 
 temala, in 1568, f. 250, a. render of Granada, and that he saw 
 
 ^^ It was dedicated to Philip IV. Columbus at liaicelona, on his first 
 
 Some of its details are quite amusing. return from America, in 1493. Quin- 
 
 He gives even a list of the individual (jua-jcnas, MS. 
 
 hor.ses that were used on the gicat ex- ^r " Yeedor de las Fundiciones de 
 
 pedition of Coiles, and often describes Oro,'" he describes himself in the Proe- 
 
 the se]»arate qualities of a favorite miu of hi.^ work presented to Charles
 
 Chai'. VI.] GONZALO FEIJXANDEZ I)E OVIEDO. 39 
 
 occasional visits to Spain and to difterent Spanish pos- 
 sessions in America, he lived nearly forty ^-ears, de- 
 voted to the affairs of the New World. Oviedo 
 seems, from his youth, to liave had a passion for 
 knowing remarkable persons as well as for writing 
 about them ; and, besides several less considera- 
 ble *W'Orks, among which were imperfect chron- * 33 
 icles of Ferdinand and Isabella, and of Charles 
 the Fifth, and a life of Cardinal Ximenes,^ he prepared 
 two of no small value. ^ 
 
 The most important of these two is the "General 
 and Natural History of the Indies," filling fifty books^ 
 of which the first portions, embracing twenty-one, were 
 published in 1535. As early as 1525, when he was at 
 Toledo, and offered Cliarles the Fifth a summary of 
 the History of the Spanish Conquests in the New 
 A¥orld, which was published three years later, he 
 speaks of his desire to have his larger work printed. 
 But it appears, from the beginning of the thirty- 
 third book and the end of the thirty-fourth, that he 
 was still employed upon it in 1547 and 1548; and it is 
 not unlikely, from the words with which he concludes 
 the thirty-seventh, that he kept each of its larger divis- 
 ions open, and continued to make additions to them 
 nearly to the time of his death.-'^ 
 
 v., in 1525 (Bavcia, Tom. I.); and Emperor, at the end of the " Suinaiio," 
 
 lonj; afterwards, in the opening of Book in 1525, "La General y NaC\iral Hi.s- 
 
 XLVII. of his Historias, MS., lie still toria de las Indias, ()ue de mi niano 
 
 •Speaks of himself as holding tlie same tengo escrita"; — in the Introduction 
 
 office. to Lib. XXXIII. he says, "En treinta 
 
 -- 1 do not feel sure that Antonio is y quatro anos que ha que estoy en estas 
 
 not mistaken in ascribing to Oviedo a partes"; — and in the ninth chapter, 
 
 scparati' life of Cardinal Ximenes, be- which ends Lib. XXXIV., we have au 
 
 cau.se the life contained in the " Quin- event recorded with the date of 1548 ; 
 
 •piagenas " is so ample ; but the Chron- — so that, for these tliree-and-twenty 
 
 icles of Ferdinand and Isabella, and years, he was certainly employed, more 
 
 Charles V., are alluded to by Oviedo or les.s, on this great woik. But at the 
 
 liimself in the Proemio to Charles V. end of Book XXXVII. he says, "Y 
 
 Neither has ever been ])rinte(l. csto baste quanto a este l)reve libro del 
 
 *^ He calls it, in his letter to the nuiiicro treinta y siefe, hasta (pie el
 
 40 GOXZALO FERXAXDEZ DE OVIEDO. [Pekiod II. 
 
 He tells US that he had the Emperor's authority 
 to demand, from the different governors of Spanish 
 America, the documents he might need for his work ; -^ 
 and, as his divisions of the sujjject are those which 
 naturally arise from its geography, he appears to have 
 gone judiciously ahout his task. But the materials lie 
 
 was to use were in too crude a state to be 
 * 34 easily manageable, and the whole * subject w\as 
 
 too wide and various for his powers. He falls, 
 therefore, into a loose, rambling style, instead of aim- 
 ing at philosophical condensation ; and, far from an 
 abridgment, which his work ought to have been, he 
 gives us chronicling, documentary accounts of an im- 
 mense extent of newly discovered country, and of the 
 extraordinary events that had been passing there, — 
 sometimes too short and slight to be satisfactory- or 
 interesting, and sometimes too detailed for the reader's 
 patience. He was evidently a learned man, and main- 
 tained a correspondence with Ramusio, the Italian 
 geographer, which could not fail to be useful to both 
 parties.'^'' And he was desirous to write in a good and 
 eloquent style, in which he sometimes succeeded. He 
 has, therefore, on the whole, pioduced a series of 
 accounts of the natural condition, the aboriginal inhab- 
 
 tiempo nos aviso, de otras cosas que en times, by Herrera, Taniayo, Soli's, and 
 
 el se acn-scieutan " ; from whidi I in- other writers of (listinction. It ceased, 
 
 fer that he kept each l)ook, or each I believe, with the creation of tlie Acad- 
 
 large division of his work, open for ad- eniy of History. . 
 
 <litions, as long as he lived, and tliere- '^ " We owe much to those who give 
 fore that parts of it vmy have been us notice of what we have not seen or 
 written as late as 1557. known ourselves; as I am now indebted 
 '■^* "I have royal orders that the gov- to a remarkable and leained man, of the 
 eniors should send me a relation of illustrious Senate of Venice, called Sec- 
 whatever I sliall touch in the affairs retaiy Juan Bautista Ramusio, who, 
 of theii- governments for this History." hearing that I was inclined to the 
 (Lib. X.X.XIII., Introd., MS.) I ap- things of which I here treat, has, with - 
 prehend Oviedo was the first authomed out knowing me personally, souglit 
 f-'hronirlt-r of the New World ; an office me for his friend, and roinmunicated 
 whii-h was at one ])eriud better ])aid with me l)y letter-S, sending me a new 
 liian any otiier similar offii-e in th<; geography," etc. (Lib. XXXVllI., 
 J<ingdom, ami was li>-ld at ditferent MS.)
 
 CiiAi'. VI.| GOXZALO FERNANDEZ J)E OVIEDO. 
 
 41 
 
 itants, and the political affairs, of the wide-spread 
 Spanish possessions in America, as they stood in the 
 middle of the sixteenth century, wliicli is of great 
 value as a vast repository of facts, and not wholly 
 without merit as a composition.^*' 
 
 * The other considerable work of Oviedo, the * 35 
 
 ■■'*' As a specimen of his manner I add 
 tlie following account of Almagro, one 
 of the early adventurers in Peru, whom 
 the Pizarros put to death in Cuzco, 
 after they had obtained uncontrolled 
 ]>ower there. ' ' Therefore hear and read 
 all the authors you may, and compare, 
 one by one, whatever they relate, that 
 all men, not kings, liave freely given 
 away, and you shall surely see how 
 there is none that can eipial Almagro 
 in this matter, and how none can be 
 compared to him ; for kings, indeed, 
 may give and know how to give what- 
 ever pleaseth them, both cities and 
 lands, and lordships) and other great 
 gifts ; but that a man whom yesterday 
 we saw so ]wor that all he possessed was 
 a very small matter should have a spirit 
 sufficient for what I have related, — 1 
 liold it to be so great a thing that I 
 know not the like of it in our own or 
 any other time. For I myself saw, 
 when his companion, PizaiTO, came 
 from Spain, and brought with him that 
 body 01 three hundred men to Panama, 
 that, if Almagro had not received them, 
 and shown them so much free hospi- 
 tality with so generous a spirit, few or 
 none of them could have escaped alive ; 
 for the land was tilled with disease, 
 and the means of living were so dear 
 that a bushel of maize was worth two 
 or three pesos, and an arroba of wine 
 six or seven gold pieces. To all of 
 them he was a father, and a brother, 
 and a true friend ; for, inasmuch as it 
 is pleasant and grateful to some men 
 to make gain, and to heaji up and to 
 gather together moneys and estates, 
 even so much and more pleasant was it 
 to him to share with others and to give 
 away ; so that the day when he gave 
 nothing he accounted it for a day lost. 
 And in his very face you might see the 
 pleasure and true delight he felt when 
 lie found occasion to help him who had 
 need. And since, after so long a fel- 
 lowship and friendship as there was be- 
 tween these two gi'cat leaders, from the 
 
 days when their com])anions were few 
 and their means small, till they saw 
 themselves full of wealth and strength, 
 there hath at last come foith so much 
 discord, scandal, and death, well must 
 it appear matter of wonder even to 
 those who shall but hear of it, and 
 much more to us, who knew them in 
 their low estate, and have no less borne 
 witness to their greatness and prospei'- 
 ity." (General y Natural Historia de 
 las Indias, Lib. XLVIL, MS.) Much 
 of it is, like the preceding passage, in 
 the true, old, rambling, moializing, 
 chronicling vein. 
 
 Since the preceding account of the- 
 "Historia General" of Oviedo was 
 printed, (1849,) the whole work has 
 been published by the Spanish Acad- 
 emy of History, in four rich folio vol- 
 imies, Madrid, 1851-1855, edited by 
 Don Jose Amador de los Rios. The 
 Prefatory notice contains a Life of Ovi- 
 edo, with an account of his works, 
 among which are two that have been 
 published, and should be at least men- 
 tioned. The lirst is " Claribalte," com- 
 posed during a period when Oviedo was 
 out of favor at court, and printed at 
 Valencia in 1519 ; — a book which it is 
 singular he should have written, be- 
 cause it is a Romance of Chivalry, and, 
 in the latter part of his life, when such 
 fictions were at the height of their favoi', 
 nobody treated them with more seveiity 
 than he did. Tiie other is an ascetic 
 work, entitled " Reglas de la Vida," 
 which, he says, he translated from the 
 Tuscan, and which was printed at Se- 
 ville in 1548, but which is now become 
 so rare that Sr. Amador has never seen 
 it, and does not determine precisely 
 what it was, nor who was its original 
 author. Of the works in manuscript, 
 which, besides the two Quimiuagenas, 
 amount to six, we should, 1 suppose, be 
 most curious to see tlie account Oviedo 
 prepared of the occui rences and gossip 
 at the conit of l^Tacbid during the cap- 
 tivity of Kiiinuis I., in ]r>2').
 
 42 BAUTOLEMK DE LAS C'ASAS. [Piiuop IT. 
 
 fruit of his old age, is devoted to fond recollee- 
 tioiis of his native country, and of the disting-uished 
 men he had known there. He calls it " Batallas y 
 Quinquagenas," and it consists of a series of dialogues, 
 in which, with httle method or order, he gives gossip- 
 ing accounts of the principal families that figured in 
 Spain during the times of Ferdinand and Isabella and 
 Charles the Fifth, mingled with anecdotes and recol- 
 lections, such as — not without a simple-hearted exhi- 
 bition of his own vanity — the memory of his long 
 and busy life could furnish. It apjDcars from the Dia- 
 lo<i:ue on Cardinal Ximenes, and elsewhere, that he 
 was employed on it as early as 1545;^' but the year 
 
 1550 occurs yet more frequently anu^ng the 
 * 3G dates of its imaginary conversations,^^ and it * is 
 
 probable that he continued to add to it, as he 
 did to his History, imtil near the end of his life, for it 
 seems still imperfect. He died at Valladolid in 1557. 
 But, l)oth during his life, and after his death, Oviedo 
 had a formidable adversary, who, pursuing nearly the 
 same course of inquiries respecting the New World, 
 came almost constantly' to conclusions quite opposite. 
 This was no less a person than Bartolome de las 
 Casas, or Casaus, the apostle and defender of the Amer- 
 
 2' "En pstft qw pstamos dp 1545." " Batallas y Quinquagenas " are not to 
 
 Batallas y Quin<iuagcnu.s, MS., El Car- he confounded with a poem \\liiih Ovi- 
 
 diiial C'i.sneios. edo entitled "Las Quin<iuag('nas," on 
 
 2* As in the Dialoguo on Juan de the di.stingui.shed Spaniards of all times, 
 
 Silva, Conde de Cifuente.s, he .says, and which he conijileted in L556, in one 
 
 "En este ano en f[ne estanios L'>50 " ; hundred and fifty stanzas of fifty lines 
 
 and in the Dialogue on Mendoza, Duke each, or seven thousand five hundreil 
 
 of Ld'antado, he uses the same words, lines in all; — an error into which I 
 
 as he does again in tliat on Pedro Fer- fell in tiie first edition of this work, 
 
 nandez de ('(irdova. There is an exc(d- owing (diieily to an oliscurity in the 
 
 lent note on Oviedo in Vol. I. j). 112 account of the two Quinquagenas by 
 
 of the American edition of "Ferdinand ("lemencin, in his Elogin on Queen I.sa- 
 
 and Isabel'a," hy my friend Mr. I'res- hella. It is mucli to he desired that 
 
 cott, to whom I am indebted for tlie both .should be publi.shed, anil we can 
 
 manu.scri[)t of the Batallas y Quinqua- have no accurate idea of them till they 
 
 gena.s, as well as of the Historia. The are.
 
 CiiAi'. VI.] BAltTOLEME DE LAS CASA.S. 43 
 
 ican Indians,-^ — a m-an "vvlio would have been remfirk- 
 able in any age of the worhl, and who does not seem 
 yet to have gathered m the fidl harvest of his honors. 
 He was born in Seville, probably in 1474 ; and, in 
 1502, havino- gone throuo-h a course of studies at Sala- 
 manca, embarked for the Indies, where his father, who 
 had been there with Columbus nine years earlier, had 
 already accumulated a decent fortune. 
 
 The attention of the young man was at once drawn 
 to the condition of the natives, from the circumstance 
 that one of them, given to his father by Columbus, had 
 been attached to his own person as a slave, while he 
 was still at the University; and he was not slow to 
 learn, on his arrival in Hispaniola, that their gentle na- 
 tures and slight frames had already been subjected, in 
 the mines and in other forms of toil, to a servitude so 
 harsh that the original inhabitants of the island were 
 rapidly wasting away under the severity of their la- 
 bors. From this moment he devoted his life to their 
 emancipation. In 1510 he took holy orders, and con- 
 tinued as a priest, and, for a short time, as Bishop of 
 Chiapa, nearly forty years, to teach, strengthen, and 
 console, the suffering flock committed to his charge. 
 Six times, at least, he crossed the Atlantic, in order to 
 persuade the government of Charles the Fifth to 
 ameliorate their condition, and always with 
 more or less * success. At last, but not until * 37 
 1547, when he was above seventy years old, he 
 established himself at Valladolid, in Spain, where he 
 passed the remainder of his serene old age, giving it 
 freely to the great cause to which he had devoted the 
 
 ^ The family was originally French, Chronicle of John II. its descendants 
 
 spelling its name Casaus ; but it appeals are called Las Casas, and Fr. Bartolome 
 
 in Spanish history as early as 1253, in wrote his name both ways. Later they 
 
 the Repartimiento of Seville. (Zuhimi, reverted to the original spelling. Gu- 
 
 Anales de Sevilla, 1677, p. 75.) In tiie diel, Faniilia de los Girones, 1577, f. 98.
 
 44 BAllTOLEME DE LAS CASAS. [Pehiod II. 
 
 freshness of his 3'oiith. He died, while on a visit of 
 business, at Madrid, in 1566, at the advanced age, as is 
 commonly supposed, of ninety-two.^^ 
 
 Among the principal opponents of his benevolence 
 were Sepulveda, — one of the leading men of letters 
 and casuists of the time in Spain, — and Oviedo, who, 
 from his connection ^vith the mines and his share in the 
 government of different parts of the newly discovered 
 countries, had an interest directly opposite to the one 
 Las Casas defended. These two persons, with large 
 means and a wide influence to sustain them, intrigued, 
 wa^ote, and toiled against him, in every w^ay in their 
 power. But his was not a spirit to be daunted by 
 opposition or deluded by sophistry and intrigue ; and 
 when, in 1519, in a discussion with Sepulveda concern- 
 ing the Indians, held in the presence of the young and 
 proud Emperor Charles the Fifth, Las Casas said, '• It is 
 quite certain that, speaking with all the respect and 
 reverence due to so great a sovereign, I would not, 
 save in the way of duty and obedience as a subject, go 
 from the place where I now stand to the op^DOsite cor- 
 ner of this room, to serve your Majesty, unless I 
 believed I should at the same time serve God,"^^ 
 
 ^ There is a valuable life of Las Casas taken by the Portuguese in war ami 
 
 inQuintana, "ViJas de Espanoles Ci'le- nghtful slaves. But afterwards be 
 
 bres" (Madrid, 1833, 12nio, Tom. III. chauj^'fil bis mind on the subject. He 
 
 pp. 255-510). The seventh article in declared "the captivity of the negroes 
 
 the Apjjendix, concerning the conn(;c- to be as unjust as that of the Indians," 
 
 tion of Las Casas with the slave-trade, — "ser tan injusto el cautiverio de los 
 
 will be read with ]>articular interest; negros como el de los Indios," — and 
 
 becau.se, by materials drawn from un- even expres.sed a fear that, though he 
 
 published documents of unquestionable hail fallen into the eiTor of favoring the 
 
 authenticity, it makes it certain that, importation of black slaves into Amer- 
 
 although at one time Las Casas favored ica from ignorance and good-will, he 
 
 what had been begun earlier, — the might, after all, fail to stand excused 
 
 transportation, I mean, of negi'oes to for it In^fore the Divine Justice. Quin- 
 
 the West Indies, in order to relieve the tana, Tom. HI. ]>. 471. 
 Indian.s, — as other good men in his ^i Quintana, EspauolesCelebres, Tom. 
 
 time favored it, he diil so under the 111. ]). 321. 1 think, but am not sure, 
 
 im[iression tliat, according to the law that (^uintana dix-s not .say La.s Casas 
 
 of nations, the negroes thus brought was made a chajilain of Cliarles V. out 
 
 to America were both rightful captives of personal regard ; — a circumstance
 
 (MAP. VI.] IJAUTOLK^n': 1)E LAS TASAS. 45 
 
 — when he said this, he uttered a sentiment 
 *that really governed his life, and constituted * 38 
 the basis of the great power he exercised. His 
 works are pervaded by it. The earliest of them, called 
 •' A very Short Account of the Ruin of the Indies," was 
 written in l-542;^-^ and dedicated to the Prince, after- 
 wards Philip the Second ; — a tract in which, no doubt, 
 the sufterings and wrongs of the Indians are much 
 overstated by the mdignant zeal of its author, but still 
 one whose expositions are founded in truth, Jind b}- 
 their fervor awakened all Europe to a sense of the in- 
 justice they set forth. Other short treatises followed, 
 written with similar spirit and power, especially those 
 in reply to Sepulveda ; but none was so often re- 
 printed, either at home or abroad, as the first,^ and 
 none ever produced so deep and solemn an effect on 
 the world. They were all collected and published in 
 1552 ; and, besides being translated into other lan- 
 guages at the time, an edition in Sj^anish, and a French 
 version of the wdiole, with two more treatises than were 
 contained in the first collection, appeared at Paris in 
 1822, prepared by Llorente. 
 
 mentioned by Argensola, who, it should Las Casas by Llorente, which appeared 
 
 be added, gives a fair and interesting at Paris in 1822, in 2 vols., 8vo, in tlie 
 
 account of the Apostle to the Indians, original Spanish, almost at the same 
 
 so far as his History of Aragon comes time with his translation of tliem into 
 
 down. Anales de Aragon, Tom. L French. It should be noticed, jjcr- 
 
 1630, p. .547. haps, that Llorente's version is not al- 
 
 ^^ Quintana (p. 413, note) doubts ways strict, and that the two new trea- 
 
 wlieii this famous treatise was written ; tises he imputes to Las Casas, as well 
 
 but Las Casas himself says, in the as tlie one on the Authoritj' of Kings, 
 
 opening of his " Brevisiina Relacion," are not absolutely proved to be his. 
 that it was written in 1542, and at The translation referred to above ap- 
 
 the end it is noted as finished at Va- peared, in fact, the same year, and at 
 
 lencia, December 8, 1542; an "Adi- the end of it an " Apologie de Las 
 
 cion" or postscript following, which is Casas," by Gregoire, with letters of 
 
 dated 1546 in tlia copy I use. Funes and ]\Iier, and notes of Llorente 
 
 ^ This important tract continued to sustain it, — all to defend Las Casas 
 long to be printed separately, both at on the subject of the slave-trade ; but 
 home and abroad. I use a copy of it Quintana, as we have seen, has gone to 
 in double columns, Spanish and Italian, the original documents, and leaves no 
 Venice, 1643, 12ino ; but, like the rest, doubt, both that Las Casas once favored 
 the " Brevisima Relacion" mayl)econ- it, and that he altered liis mind after- 
 suited in an edition of the AVorks of wards.
 
 46 BAKTOLEME DE LAS CASAS. [Pkkioi) II. 
 
 Tlic great work of Las Casas, liowever, still remains 
 inedited, — a General History of the Indies from 1492 
 to 1520, begun by him in 1-327 and finished in 1561, 
 but of Avhicli he oi-dered that no portion shoidd be 
 ]niblished within forty ^-ears of his death. 
 * 39 * Like his other works, it shows marks of haste 
 and carelessness, and is written in a ramblincr 
 
 o 
 
 stj'le ; but its value, notwithstanding his too fervent 
 zeal for the Lidians, is great. He had l)een personally 
 acquainted with many of the early discoverers and 
 conquerors, and at one time possessed the papers of 
 Columbus, and a large mass of other important docu- 
 ments, which are now lost. He says he had known 
 Cortes "when he was so low and humble, that he be- 
 sought favor from the meanest servant of Dieo-o A'^elas- 
 quez " ; and he knew him afterwards, he tells us, when, 
 in his pride of place at the court of the Emperor, he 
 ventured to jest jdjout the pretty corsairs part lie liad 
 played in the affairs of Montezuma.^* He knew, too, 
 Gomara and Oviedo. and gives at large his reasons for 
 differing from them. In short, his book, divided into 
 three parts, is a great repository, to which Herrera, 
 and through him all the historians of the Indies since, 
 have resorted for materials ; and without which the 
 history of the earliest period of the Spanish settle- 
 ments in America cannot even now be properlj^ writ- 
 ten.^ 
 
 But it is not necessary to go further into an examina- 
 
 ^* "Todof'sto me (lixo p1 mismoror- MS.) It may be woitli noting, that 
 
 tes con oti-as cosas ccrca dello, despues 1.542, the year when Cortes made this 
 
 de Mar<|UPs, en la villa de Momjon, es- srandalous sjieech, was the year in 
 
 tando alU celebrando cortes el Empera- whieh Las Casas wrote his Brevisima 
 
 dor, afio de mil y <jiiinientos y quarenta Kelacion. 
 
 y dos, riendo y mofando eon estas for- ^ For a notice of all the works of 
 
 males jjalabras, a la mi fe andnbe por Las Casas, see Quintana, Vidas, Tom. 
 
 alii como un geiitil cosaiio." (Histuria III. pp. 507-510. 
 Genei-al de 1:.> In.liMs. Ml,, III. ,. 11.5,
 
 Chai'. VI. J VACA, XEKEZ, CAKATE. 47 
 
 tion of the old accounts of the discovery and conquest 
 of Spanish America, though there are many more 
 ■\vhich, Uke those we have ah^eady considered, are 
 partly books of travel through countries fidl of won- 
 ders, i^artly chronicles of adventures as strange as 
 those of romance ; frequently running into idle and 
 loose details, but as frequently fresh, picturesque, and 
 manly, in their tone and coloring, and almost always 
 striking from the facts tliey record and the glimpses 
 they give of manners and character. Among those 
 that might be added are the stories b}^ Yaca of his 
 shipwreck and ten years' captivity in Florida, from 
 1527 to 1537, and his subsequent government 
 
 * for three years of the Rio de la Plata ; ^"^^ the * 40 
 short account of the conquest of Peru, written by 
 Francisco de Xerez, Secretary of Francisco de Pi- 
 zarro,"" and the amjoler one, of the same wild achieve- 
 ments, which Augustin de Carate began on the spot, 
 and was prevented by Carvajal, an officer of Gonzalo 
 de Pizarro, from finishing till after his return home."^ 
 
 ^ The two works of Alvar Nunez Tom. III.,) and in Barcia's collection 
 
 Cabeza de Vaca, namely, his " Naufra- (Tom. III.). It ends in Baicia with 
 
 gios," and his "Comentarios y Suce- some poor verses in defence of Xerez, 
 
 SOS de su Gobierno en el Rio de la by a friend, which are ampler and more 
 
 Plata," were first printed in 1555, and important in the original edition, and 
 
 are to be found in Barcia, Historiadores contain notices of his life. They are 
 
 Primitivos, Tom. I., and in the Biblio- reprinted in the Biblioteca de Autorcs 
 
 tecade AutoresEspanoles, Tom. XXII., Espafioles, Tom. XXVI., 1853, and 
 
 1852. They are wild and romantic ac- Gayangos conjectures them to have 
 
 • ■ounts of extraordinary adventures and been written by Oviedo. 
 sufferings, particularly the JVaufracfios, ^ " Hi.storia del Desciibrimiento y 
 where (Chap. XXII.) the author .seems Conquista del Peru," first printed in 
 TO think he not only cui-ed the sick by 1555, and several times since. It is in 
 divine interpo.sition, but that, in one Barcia, Tom. III., and in the Biblio- 
 instance, he rai.sed the dead. But, tecade AutoresEspanoles, Tom. XXVI., 
 however this may be, he was evidently 1853, and was translated into Italian by 
 a man of gi'eat courage and constancy, Ulloa. ^arate was sent out by Charles 
 and of an elevated and generous na- V. to examine into the state of the 
 Ture. revenues of Peru, and biings down his 
 
 ^" The work of Francisco de Xerez, accounts as late as the overthrow of 
 
 "Conquista del Peru," written by order Gonzalo Pizarro. See an excellent no- 
 
 of Francisco Pizarro, was firet published tice of Carate at the end of Mr. Pres- 
 
 in 1534 and 1547, and is to be found in cott's last chapter on the Conquest of 
 
 Ramusio, (Venezia, ed. Giunti, folio, Peru.
 
 48 
 
 EAKLY ACCOUNTS OF AMEKICA. [I'l.iMoi, IL 
 
 But tliey may all be passed over, as of less conse- 
 quence than those we have noticed, which are quite 
 sufficient to give an idea, both of the nature of their 
 class and the course it followed, — a class much resem- 
 blinii' the old chronicles, but ^'et one that announces 
 the approach of those more regular forms of historv 
 for which it furnishes abundant materials. 
 
 Pedro Cieza de Leon, also, who lived 
 above seventeen years in Peru, pub- 
 lished at Seville, in 1553, an important 
 work on that country,' entitled " Pri- 
 niera Parte de la Chronica del Peru," 
 intending to conii)lete and publish it 
 in three other parts ; but died in 1560, 
 re i/ifcda, at the age of forty-two. The 
 lirst part is reprinted in the Biblioteca 
 
 de Autores Espafioles, Tom. XXVI., 
 and the MS. of the third ]nivt is said to- 
 be in the possession of James Lenox, 
 Esq., New York. Gayangos notices, 
 also, a small publication in eight leaves, 
 in the British Museum, entitled La 
 Cnnquisf.d, del Peru, which he thinks is 
 like a gazette, and may have been the 
 lirst publication on the subject.
 
 *CHArTErt VII. *41 
 
 THEATRE. INFLUENCE OF THE CHURCH AND THE INQUISITION MTSTERJES. 
 
 — 'CASTILLEJO, OLIVA, JUAN DE PARIS, AND OTHERS. --POPULAR DEMANDS 
 
 FOR DRAMATIC LITERATURE. LOPE DE RUEDA. HIS LIFE, COMEDIAS, 
 
 COLOQUIOS, PASOS, AND DIALOGUES IN VERSK. HIS CHARACTER AS FOUND- 
 ER OF THE POPULAR DRAMA IN SPAIN. JUAN DE TIMONEDA. 
 
 The theatre in Spain, as in most other countries of 
 modern Europe, was early called to contend with for- 
 midable difficulties. Dramatic representations there, 
 perhaps more than elsewhere, had been for centuries in 
 the hands of the Church ; and the Church was not will- 
 ing to give them up, especially for such secular and 
 irreligious purposes as we have seen were apparent in 
 the plays of Naharro. The Inquisition, therefore, al- 
 ready arrogating to itself powers not granted by the 
 state, but yielded by a sort of general consent, inter- 
 fered betimes. After the publication of the Seville 
 edition of the " Propaladia/' in 1520, — but how soon 
 afterward we do not know, — the representation of its 
 dramas was forbidden, and the interdict was continued 
 till 1573.^ Of the few pieces written in the early part 
 of the reign of Charles the Fifth, nearly all, except 
 those on strictly religious subjects, were laid under the 
 ban of the Church ; several, like the " Orfea," 1534, 
 and the " Custodia," 1541, being now known to have 
 
 1 In the edition of Madrid, 1573, 1573. The period i.s important ; but I 
 
 ISmo, we are told, "La Propaladia .suspect the authority of Martinez de la 
 
 estava prohihida en estos reynos, ahos Rosa, for its termination is merely the 
 
 avia " ; and Martinez de la Rosa (0bra.s. permission to print an edition, which 
 
 Paris, 1827, 12mo, Tom. II. p. 382) says is dated 21st August, 1573; an edi- 
 
 that this prohibition was laid soon after tion, too, which is, after all, expurgated 
 
 1520, and not removed till August, severely. 
 VOL. II. 4
 
 50 
 
 THE TlIEATItE. 
 
 [Pkuiud II. 
 
 existed only because their names appear in the 
 
 * 42 Index Expurgatoiius ; ^ and others, * like the 
 
 "Aniadis de Gauhi " of Gil Vicente, though 
 
 printed a-nd i)ul)lished, being subsequently forbidden 
 
 to be represented.^ 
 
 The old religious drama, meantime, was still upheld 
 hy ecclesiastical power. Of this we have sufficient 
 ])roof in the titles of the Mysteries that were from 
 time to time performed, and in the well-known fact 
 that, when, with all the magnificence of the court 
 of Charles the Fifth, the infant heir to the crown, 
 afterwards Philip the Second, was bajDtized at Yidlado- 
 lid, in 1-527, five religious plajs, one of which was on 
 the Baptism of Saint John, constituted a part of the 
 gorgeous ceremony.^ Such compositions, however, did 
 not advance the drama, though perhaps some of them, 
 like that of Pedro de Altamira, on the Supper at Em- 
 maus, are not without poetical merit.'' On the con- 
 trary, their tendency must lia\e been to keep back 
 
 2 Those are in the " Catalogo " of L. 
 F. Monitiii, Nos. 57 and 63, Obras, 
 ibulrid, 1830, 8vo, Tom. I. Parte I. 
 
 '^ Tlie fate of this long, heroic, and 
 romantic drama of Gil Vicente, in Span- 
 ish, is somewhat singular. It was for- 
 bidden by the liujuisition, we are told, 
 as early as the Index Expiirgatorius of 
 1549 [1559?]; but it was not ])rinted 
 at all till 1562, and not separately 
 till 1586. By the Index of Lisbon, 
 1624, it is permitted, if ex])urgated, and 
 thei-e is an edition of it of that year at 
 Lisbon. As it was never printed in 
 Sj)ain, the jn'ohibition there must have 
 related chiefly to its representation. 
 Barbcsa, Bib. Lu.sitana, Tom. 11. 
 p. 384. 
 
 * The account of this ceremony, and 
 the facts concerning the dramas in ques- 
 tion, are given by Sandoval, "Ilistoi'ia 
 de Carlos V.," (.Viivers, 1681, fol., Tom. 
 I. i». 619, Lib. XVI. § 13,) and are of 
 some con.sei|uence in the liistory of the 
 Spanish drama. 
 
 It may also be worth notice that 
 when Maximilian II., of Germanj^ was 
 married to Marv. eldest daughter of 
 Charles V., at" Valladolid, in 1548, 
 Philij) being present at the festivities, 
 and 5laxiinilian having been educateil 
 in Sjjain, tlie theatrical entertainment 
 thouglit proper for the occasion was yet 
 one of the comedies of Ariosto, in the 
 original, which, we are told, was repre- 
 .sentod "con todo a(|uel aparato de the- 
 atro y scenas que los Komanos las solian 
 rejM'esentar, que fue cosa mny real y 
 sumptuosa." (( 'alvete de Estrejla, Viage 
 de Phelipe, Hijo del Emperador Carlos 
 v., ec. Anveres, folio, 1552, f. 2, b. ) 
 Tiiere can be no doubt, I suppose, that 
 a Spanish play would liave been se- 
 lecteil, if one suitable could have been 
 found for so biiliiant a Sjianish audi- 
 ence, collected on an occasion ajtjieal- 
 ing so strongly to national fe(dings. 
 
 ^ It was ])rinted in 1523, ami a suffi- 
 cient extract from it is to be found in 
 Moratin, '"atalogo, No. 36.
 
 Chap. VI F.] 
 
 VAKIOUS I)RA]N[AS. 
 
 51 
 
 theatrical representations within their old religious 
 purposes and limits.-' 
 
 * Nor were the efforts made to advance them in * 43 
 other directions marked l)y good judgment or 
 permanent success. We pass over the " Costanza " 1)V 
 Castillejo, which seems to have heen in the manner of 
 Naharro, and is assigned to the year l')22,' Init which, 
 from its indecency, was never jiublished in full, and is 
 now probably lost ; and we pass over the free versions 
 made about 1530, by Perez de Oliva, Rector of the 
 University of Salamanca, from the '' Amphitryon " of 
 
 •" A specimen of the Mysteries of the 
 age of Charles V. may be found in an 
 extremely lare volume, without date, 
 entitled, in its three parts, " Triaca del 
 Alma," "Triaca de Amor," and "Tri- 
 aca de Tristes " ; — or. Medley for the 
 Soul, for Love, and for Sadness. Its 
 author was Marcelo de Lebrixa, son of 
 the famous scholar Antonio ; and the 
 dedication and conclusion of the first 
 part imply that it was composed when 
 the author was forty years old, — after 
 the death of his father, which happened 
 in 1522, and during the reign of the 
 Emperor, which ended in 1556. The 
 first part, to which I particularly al- 
 lude, consists of a "Mj'stery" on the 
 Incarnation, in above eight thousand 
 short verses. It has no other action 
 than such as consists in the a])pearance 
 of the angel Gabriel to the Madonna, 
 bringing Reason with him in the shape 
 of a woman, and followed by another 
 angel, who leads in the Seven Virtues ; 
 — the whole piece being made up out 
 of their successive discourses and ex- 
 hortations, and ending M'itli a sort of 
 summary, by Reason and by the Au- 
 thor, in favor of a pious life. Certain- 
 ly, so slight a structure, with little 
 merit in its verses, could do nothing 
 to advance the drama of the sixteenth 
 century. It was, however, intended 
 for representation. " It was written," 
 says its author, "for the praise and 
 solemnization of the Festival of Our 
 Lady's Incarnation ; so that it may be 
 acted as a play [la puedan por fai(;a 
 representar] by devout nuns in their 
 convents, since no men a]>pear in it, 
 but only angels and young damsels." 
 
 It should be noted that the word ^flJfi^ 
 tcry, as here used, has sometimes been 
 thought to indicate its origin from mi- 
 nisterium, because it was jierformed by 
 the ministers of tin? church, and not 
 because it set forth the mysteries of re- 
 ligion, according to its accustomed use 
 in France, where we have " Le Mistere 
 de la Passion," etc. 
 
 The second part of this singular vol- 
 ume, which is moi'e poetical than the 
 first, is against human and in favor of 
 Divine love ; and the third, which is 
 very long, consists of a series of conso- 
 lations, deemed suitable for the differ- 
 ent forms of human sorrow and care ; 
 — these two parts being necessarily di- 
 dactic in their character. Each of the 
 three is addressed to a member of the 
 great family of Alva, to which tlieir au- 
 thor was attached ; and the whole is 
 called by him Triaca ; a word which 
 means Treacle, or Antidote, but which 
 Lebrixa says he uses in the sense of 
 Ensalacld, — Salad, or Medlc\i. The 
 volume, taken as a whole, is as strongly 
 marked with the spirit of the age that 
 produced it as the contemporary Cau- 
 cionerosGenerales, and its poetical merit 
 is much like theirs. 
 
 ■^ Moratin, Catiilogo, No. 35, MxAante, 
 Vol. I. p. 463, n. 6. A short extract 
 from it is given by Moratin ; and Wolf, 
 in his tract on Castillejo, (1849, p. 10,) 
 says that still more was published in 
 1542, under the pseudonyme of Fraj' 
 Nidel ; but Gallai-do gives the best ac- 
 count of the whole in a letter to Ga- 
 yangos, to be found in the Spanish 
 translation of this work, Tom. II- 
 p. 500.
 
 52 JUAX DE PAKIS. [PKKini) II. 
 
 Plaiitns, the " Electra " of Sophocles, and the " Hecuba " 
 of Euripides^, because they fell, for the time, powerless 
 on the early attempts of the national theatre, which 
 had nothing in connnon with the spirit of anti(iuity.^ 
 But a single play, printed in 1536, should be noticed, 
 as showing how slowly the drama made progress in 
 Spain. 
 
 It is called '• An Eclogue," and is written by Juan de 
 Paris, in versos do arte mayor, or long verses divided into 
 stanzas of eight lines each, which show, in their 
 * 44 careful * construction, not a little labor and art.^ 
 It has five interlocutors : an esquire, a hermit, 
 a young damsel, a demon, and two shepherds. The 
 hermit enters first. He seems to be in a meadow, 
 musing on the vanity of human life ; and, after praying 
 devoutly, determines to go and visit another hermit 
 But he is prevented by the esquire, who conies in 
 weeping and complaining of ill treatment from Cupid, 
 whose cruel character he illustrates by his conduct in 
 the cases of Medea, the flill of Troy, Priam, David, and 
 Hercules ; ending with his own determination to aban- 
 don the world and live in a "nook merely monastical." 
 He accosts the hermit, who discourses to him on the 
 follies of love, and advises him to take religion and 
 works of devotion for a remedy in his sorrows. The 
 young man determines to follow counsel so wise, and 
 they enter the hermitage together. But they are no 
 
 * Oliva (lied in 1533 ; but his trans- posta por Juan dc Paris, en la qual se 
 
 lations wci'i' not printed till l."i8r». iutrodiicen ciueo personas : un Eseude- 
 
 Those from Soi)hoeles, Euripides, and ro llainado Estaeio, y un Herinitano, y 
 
 Plautus are too free. Montiano ])rais<s una Mo^a, y un Diablo, y dos I'astores, 
 
 them for their pure style, but Moratin uno llaniado Vicu'ute y el otro Creinon" 
 
 reliukes Oliva for his adventurous and (ir)3lj). It is in hlack-letter, small 
 
 nnilrainatic alterations. (|uarto, 12 loaves, without name of 
 
 ^ This extremely cunous drama, of \Awa- or jiiinter ; but, I sup])ose, print- 
 
 which a cojiy was kindly h'lit to me Ity ed at Zaragoza, or Medina d(d Campo. 
 
 Mens. H. Tcrnaux-f'omjians, of Paris, Wnlf says thi-re is a cojjy dated 1551 
 
 is entitled " Egloga iiuevamente com- in the J\Iunirli I.ilirary.
 
 CuAi'. Yll.] JUAN DE PAllIS. 53 
 
 sooner gone than the demon appears, complaining ]jit- 
 terly that the esquire is Ukely to escape him, and detei- 
 mining to do all in his power to prevent it. One of 
 the shepherds, whose name is Vicente, now comes in, 
 and is much shocked by the glimpse he has caught of 
 the retiring spirit, who, indeed, from his description, 
 and from the woodcut on the title-page, seems to have 
 been a truly fantastic and hideous personage. Vicente, 
 thereupon hides himself; but the damsel, who is the 
 lady-love of the esquire, enters, and, after drawing him 
 from his concealment, holds with him a somewhat 
 metaphysical dialogue about love. The other shep- 
 herd, Cremon, at this difficult point interrupts the dis- 
 cussion, and has a rude quarrel with Vicente, Avhich 
 the damsel composes; and then Cremon tells her where 
 the hermit and the lover she has come to seek are to 
 be found. All now go towards the hermitage. The 
 esquire, overjoyed, receives the lady with open arms 
 and cries out, — 
 
 * But now I abjure this friardom poor, * 45 
 
 And will neither be hermit nor friar any more.^'' 
 
 The hermit marries them, and determines to go with 
 them to their house in the town ; and then the whole 
 ends somewhat strangely with a villancico, which has 
 for its burden, — 
 
 Let us fly, I say, from Love's power away ; 
 
 'T is a vassalage hard, 
 
 Which gives grief for reward. ii 
 
 The piece is curious, because it is a wild mixture of 
 the spirit of the old Mysteries with that of Juan de la 
 Enzina's Eclogues and the Comedies of Naharro, and 
 shows by what awkward means it was attempted to 
 
 10 Agora renieso ile mala fraylia, H Iluyamos de ser vasallos 
 
 Ni quiero hermitano ni fraylc mas ser. Del Amor, 
 
 Pubs por preiiiio da dolor-
 
 54 
 
 JAUilE DE HUETE. 
 
 f Period IL 
 
 conciliate the Church, and yet amuse an auuieiice 
 which had little s\^npathy with monks and hermits. 
 But it has no poetrv' in it, and veiy little dramatic 
 movement. Of its manner and measure the opening 
 stanza is quite a fair specimen. The Hermit enters, 
 saving to himself, — 
 
 The suifering Kfe we mortal men below, 
 
 Upon this terrene world, are bound to spend, 
 
 If we but carefully regard its end. 
 We find it very fuU of grief and woe : 
 Torments so multiplied, so great, and ever such. 
 
 That but to count an endless reckoning brings. 
 
 While, HTce the rose that from the rose-tree springs. 
 Our life itself fades quickly at their touch. ^ 
 
 Other attempts followed this, or appeared at just 
 jibout the same time, which approach nearer 
 * 46 to the example * set by Naharro. One of them, 
 called "La Vidriana," by Jaume de Huete, is 
 on the loves of a gentleman and lady of Aragon, who 
 desired the author to represent them dramatically;^ 
 and another, by the same hand, is call "La Tesorina," 
 and was afterwards forbidden by the Inquisition." 
 
 ^ As another copy of this play can 
 be found, I suppose, only by some rare 
 accident, I gi\ ' '-' ' '' '' 
 sage in the'te\' 
 
 ing. It is tL. .; ,_ ... : 
 
 scene : — 
 
 La viiia • 
 
 
 En iu\xn-- 
 
 ■; 
 
 ?i mn 1 . 
 
 
 Fall-vr la 
 
 - maies 
 
 De tanti - 
 
 raJea 
 
 Q,,.. .,- . 
 
 ■ r'.mta 
 
 V 
 
 .i»sto : tan presto es marchita 
 
 (J. 
 
 .1" estft en los ros&Ies. 
 
 
 1 Manera de Tragedia," 
 
 in • 
 
 •rlvps-itoral. was printed 
 
 at ' 
 
 : ' : ' ' 
 
 an<: 
 
 
 in .^.-u,. i:.-..: 
 
 ..- iii.-iiii. ..■■■. 
 
 in Aribau, 
 
 de .\ntorea 
 
 Espaioles," 
 
 1- II. p. 1&3, 
 
 note. 
 
 >* "Comerlia llama<la Vidriana, com- 
 poesta por Jaume de Huete agora nue- 
 
 varaente," etc., sm. 4to, black-letter, 
 eighteen leaves, without year, place, or 
 
 : " -r. It has ten interlocutors, a.nd 
 \\ith an apology in Latin, that 
 
 ; :.ithor cannot write like Mena, — 
 
 Juan de Mena, I suppose, — thou^fh I 
 know not whv he should have been 
 -'-I '^i^d, as the piece is evidently in 
 :i. laanner of Naharro. 
 
 i* Another drama from tl. 
 ume with the la^'rt two. M. 
 logo, No. 47) hail found i" 
 the Index Expurgatorius ot 
 1.55&, and assigns it, at a 
 the year 1531, but he never saw it. lu 
 title is "CoTnedia intitnlada TwsoTina. 
 
 jHjr muy cen(ira<ios tcrinino«, ijuanti) a 
 este merece perdon." Small -tto, black- 
 letter, fifteen leaves, no year, place, or
 
 <'iiAr. \ii.| oirriz. or> 
 
 Tliis l;isl is ;i direct imiliilion of Xjiliiiiro; li;is ;iii 
 inlroilo : is dixidcd '\\\\n \\\r ionitnhis : and is wiillcii in 
 short \crscs. Indeed, al tlie end. Naliaiio is nu'n- 
 li(ine(| l)\ nam*', with nineh iinphed athniration on the 
 part of the anthor, who in the t it h'-pau'e annonnces 
 liiniscdi" as an Arau'onese. hnt ol" whom we know 
 nothinii; (dse. And. linallv. wc have ;i i»la\ in live 
 ads. and in the same si \ h'. with an lulroHo al llio 
 heii'iniiiu^ and a rll/aiiclco at the end. hv Aiioslin 
 Orti/J " h'a\ im:' no * donht that the manner and *I7 
 sNstein of Naharro had at hist louiid imitators in 
 Spam, and were I'airlv reeov^ni/ed theic. 
 
 Hill the popular \ein had not^ v»'t heen struck. V,\- 
 eept (hamatic exhihitions of a reliiiioiis character, and 
 mi(h'i' ecclesiastical anthorily, nothing had been a<- 
 teiiiple(l in wiiicli ihe peopio, ui^ .sncli, luid any .shar<'. 
 The attempt. howcNcr, was now made, and made siio 
 
 iniiiU'i. It liiis Irii iiili'rloriiloiN, Mild Iiik kv'nimiil. .'!, A .slmrl, ilnli iMivr, 
 
 IS lliinii^^hiiiil nil iiiiilMtiiiii of XiiliHiio, ciilit.h'il ".IjifiiitM," ii<t(, (Ik- .Ifivinlji 
 
 will) is iiiiiitiiPiii'(l ill soini' iiii'iin l.ntiii of Nfiiiarro, 'i'lirsc tlircc, Iojj^cIIiit willi 
 
 lines III llic fiiil, wlicrc llii' miiIIkii' I'X- tlu' lour ]nvvioUHly iioiici'il, nn' liimwii 
 
 ini'sscs the liopc I lull, liis iMiisc nmv !»•' to iiio only in tlio i;o|)y I linvi' ii.nimI 
 
 IoIi'ijiIimI, "(|niiinvis non ToiTiM iligiia from tin- liliiiiry of Moiih. 11, Tfrnnnx- 
 
 Niiliiino vi'iiii." ('oiiii)Uiis. 
 
 "' " ( 'onifiliii, inlilnlMilit l{;i(Iiii:i.'i, A liHt of .sumlry nnli' ilnmiiilii' \voi1<k 
 
 rniii|iiii'.s|ii |ior A^o.stiii Ortiz," sinull in llic fonns foinnion in Simiii in llu- 
 
 ■Ito, liliick-lc'lti'i'. Iwclvi' IcMvcs, noyciir, lime of ( 'ImrlcH V. iMjiivm in llir Simn- 
 
 |ii:ii I, iir |.iiiilci. II is ill livi',/"'"'/f«/'W, ish trniisliaioii of thiH UisUn'V, ('loin, 
 
 mill li:i . Irii |iiTsoiiii^('s, ii fiivoriti' II. |i|i. n'iO-ft.'lK,) lis !in inlililion j<» 
 
 niiniln'r. ii|Piiiiiviilly. It i'<iini's IVmii IIh' well Known Ciitiiloj/in' of Monitiii. 
 
 (lie voiiiiiii'iiiiovi'iiiluilisj lo. wliirh cun Anion;/ ilii'iii Mil- III.' lilli's of Anlosiiml 
 
 tiiins liivsiili's : 1. A poor |ii'osc .sNny, oIIkt ilriiniiis hy lln- Mlningc lunl i',\- 
 
 iiil.i-,|M TsiMJ wiili <liiilo;<iii', on llii' lull' Irjivagiiiit 'rniiiMi ticl I'Vf'Ji'iiiil m' Imi-M'- 
 
 of Minliii, Ink. '11 .liii'lly fnnii Ovi.l, It mil, (s.'c post, rlui|i. XXIX., noli',) nil 
 
 is . jiil.'.l " I.II '/'(wi/ff//" lie Miirliii," iin.l lost nii.l not, wmtli r )ViMinf< ; Iw.i or 
 
 ils iuilli.ir is til.' Miicliill.T Villitlon. II tlir<'<' iniilnlions of l''.iiziiiii, Nnliiirro, 
 
 WHS iiriiil.'.l lit Mciliiiii ili^ Ciiiniio, iri:{(i, iiml tin' Ci'li'Mtiiiit ; nnil tin' .s«'<'oinl .'ili- 
 
 |...r I'.'.li.i Toniiis, snnill 11. >, lilijuk-lcl- ti.ni, 155-2, of a very simiii.' Co lin. 
 
 i.T. '1. All <'<loj,rii.' .soiiK'wIiiil ill til"' .'iill.'.l " I'lvloo y 'rilwil'lo.'" I'i'jjun liy 
 
 niMniK'r iif .liiiiii .Ir In Kn/inn. lorn r.'inlvni.'/, ilf Ayll.ni, nn.l linisln'il iiflor 
 
 \'<irin:i,',iln. Il is .'nll.'.l II /''//•;/», liin il.'iitli liy l.nis lliirlmlo. wlio w!ol« 
 
 " Kl l''Miv.n HiKiii<'iit<' iii/o I'.'i'o l.op.'z PnlnnMin ol' Knuliiinl, Of lliis hml 
 
 IJnn.j.'l," el.'. M in Hliorl, liiiiii^ only Onyiingim «ivi'M .'onsi.l.'inlil.' .■\lin.lN 
 
 I 11. mill .'onlniiiH tlin'i- /•///am;/mi. Iiiit nil of tli.'in nd.l nolliiiiK ninli'iiiil 
 
 On ijir till.' |iii><.' \h n coiirNi' wooilcnt, lo oiir kiiowl<>(l^.' of IIk' llicnln' of tint 
 
 ..I lli.' iiimi'MT. with It.'llil.'li.'in in 111.' liiii.'.
 
 ■56 LOl'K DK JtUKDA. [Pkui.dII. 
 
 cessfully. Its author was a mechanic of Seville, Lope 
 de lluedn, a goldbeater ])y trade, Avho, from motives 
 now entirely unknown, became both a dramatic writer 
 and a ])iibnc actor. The })erio(l in Avliich lie tiourished 
 has l)een supposed to be between 1544 and loOT. 
 in which last year he is spoken of as dead ; and the 
 scene of his adventures is believed to have extended 
 to Seville, Cordova, Valencia, Segovia, and probably 
 other places, where his plays and farces could be rep- 
 resented with profit. At Segovia, we know he acted 
 in the new cathedral, during the week of its consecra- 
 tion, in 1558; and Cervantes and the unhappy Antonio 
 Perez both speak with admiration of his powers as an 
 actor, — the first having been twenty years old in 
 1567, the period commonly assumed as that of Rueda's 
 death,^*^ and the last having been eighteen. Rueda's 
 success, therefore, even during his lifetime, seems to 
 have been remarkable ; and when he died, though 
 he belonged to the despised and rejected profession 
 of the stage, he was interred with honor among the 
 mazy pillars in the nave of the great cathedral at 
 
 Cordova.^' 
 * 48 * His works were collected after his death bv 
 
 - 1*' It is known that lie was certainly Oayaiiiros saA's that Tinioiieda alludes 
 
 dead as early as that year, because the to the death of Lope de Ixueda, in ]5t)ti. 
 
 edition of his "Oouiedias" then puh- I sujiijosc he refers, in this remark, to 
 
 lished at Valencia, by his friend Tinio- the " Kpistola" preiixed to the edition 
 
 iieda, contains, at the end of the " Kn- of the Eufeinia and Armelina dated 
 
 ganos," a sonnet on his death by Fian- 15(57, but with the Censura of October, 
 
 cisco de Ledesnia. The last, and, 1566. 
 
 indeed, almost the only date we have i" The well-known passage about 
 
 iil)Out him, is that of his acting in the Lo])e de Rue(la, in Cervantes's Prologo 
 
 •cathedral at Segovia in 1558 ; of which to his own plays, (see post, j). 55,) is of 
 
 "we liave a distinct account in the learneil more consequeiice than all the rest that 
 
 and elaborate History of Segovia, by remains concerning him. Everything, 
 
 Diego de Colmenares, (Segovia, 1627, however, is collected in Navarrete, 
 
 fol., p. 516,) where he says that, on a " Vida de Cervantes," pp. 255-260 ; 
 
 stage erected between tin; (dioirs, "Lope and in Casiano Pelli(;er, " Origen de la 
 
 de Rueda, a well-known actor [fainoso Comedia y del Histrionismo en Kspaha" 
 
 comediante] of that age rejintsented an (Madriil, 1804, r2mo, Tom. II. pp. 
 
 entertaining play [gusto.sa comedia]." 72-84).
 
 KT 
 
 Cum: VII.] LOPE DE KUEDA. 0/ 
 
 his friend Juan de Tinioncda, and published in difTfer- 
 ent editions, between lOiiT and 1588.'** They consist 
 of foiu' Coniedias, two Pastoral Colloquies, and ten 
 Pasos, or dialogues, all in prose; besides two dia- 
 logues in verse. They were all evidently written for 
 representation, and were unquestionably acted before 
 public audiences, by the strolling company Lope de 
 Rueda led about. 
 
 The four Coniedias are merely divided into scenes, 
 ,'ind extend to the length of a common farce, whose 
 spirit they generally share. The first of them, " Los 
 Engafios," ^^ — Frauds, — contains the story of a daugh- 
 ter of Verginio, who has escaped from the convent 
 where she was to be educated, and is serving as a page 
 to Marcelo, who had once Ijcen her lover, and who had 
 left her because he believed himself to have been ill 
 treated. ClaveLa, the lady to whom Marcelo now 
 devotes himself, falls in love with the fair page, some- 
 what as Olivia does in " Twelfth Night," and this 
 brings in several effective scenes and situations. But 
 a twin brother of the lady-page returns home, after a 
 considerable absence, so like her, that he proves the 
 other Sosia, who, first producing great confusion and 
 trouble, at last m.nTies Clavela, and leaves his sister to 
 her original lover. This is at least a plot; and some 
 of its details and portions of the dialogue are ingenious, 
 and managed with dramatic skill. 
 
 . 1^ " Las Quatro Comedias y Dos Colo- nmeli couscqiu'iR-c. Of the " Deley- 
 quios Pastorales del exceleute poeta y toso," j)rinted at Valencia, 1567, I 
 graciosorepresentante, Lope de Rueda," have never be(!n abh; to see more than 
 etc., iinpresas en Sevilla, L576, 8vo, — the veiy ample extracts given by Mora- 
 contains his principal works, with the tin, aiiioiinting to six Pasos and a C'olo- 
 " Dialogo sobre la Invencion de las quio. The first edition of the Quatro 
 Calzas que se iisan agora." From the Comedia.s, etc., wiis ].')67, at Valencia; 
 Epistola prefixed to it by Juan de Timo- the last at Logrono, 1 588. 
 neda, 1 infer that he made alterations ^^ In the edition of Valencia by Joan 
 in the maiiuscri]>ts, as Lo])e de Rueda Mey, 8vo, L567, this play is entitled 
 left them; but not, probiilily, any of "Los Enganados,"— <Ae cAwffcrf.
 
 58 LOPE DV. UUEDA. [Period II. 
 
 The next, the "Medora," is, also, not withont a i-ense 
 of what belongs to theatrical composition and efiect. 
 The interest of the action depends, in a considerable 
 degree, on the confusion produced by the lesem- 
 blance between a young woman stolen when a 
 * 49 child by * Gypsies, and the heroine, Avho is her 
 twin sister. But there are well-drawn charac- 
 ters in it, that stand out in excellent relief, especially 
 two : Gargullo, — the " miles gloriosus," or Captain 
 Bobadil, of the story, — who. by an admirable touch 
 of nature, is made to boast of his courage when quite 
 alone, as well as when he is in company ; and a Gypsy 
 woman, who overreaches and robs him at the veiy 
 moment he intends to overreach and I'ol) lier.-*^ 
 
 The story of the " Eufemia " is not unlike that of the 
 slandered Imo2:en, and the character of Melchior Oi'tiz 
 is almost exactly that of the fool in the old English 
 drama, — a well-sustained and amusing mixture of 
 simplicity and shrewdness. 
 
 The " Armelina," which is the fourth and last of the 
 longer pieces of Lope de Rueda, is more bold in its 
 dramatic incidents than either of the others.-^ The 
 heroine, a foundling from Hungary, after a series of 
 strange incidents, is left in a Spanish village, where she 
 is kindly and even delicately brought up by the villnge 
 blacksmith ; v/hile her father, to supply her place, has 
 no less kindly In-ought u]) in Hungary a natural son of 
 this same blacksmith, who had been carried there by 
 his unwoithy mother. The father of the lady, having 
 some intimation of where his daughter is to be found, 
 
 ^ This is the Rvfwn of the old Span- -i It may be wortli noticing, tliat both 
 ish dramas and stoiics, — pa?'cel roj^Y/y, the "Armelina" anil the " Kufemia " 
 parcel bull}', and wholly knave ; — a open with scenes of calling up a lazy 
 different personage from t\w Rufiaii oi young man from bed, in the early morn- 
 recent times, who is tli(; (dder AlaUiuete ing, nnu'h like the first in the "Xubes" 
 or pander. of Aristophanes.
 
 Chap. VI i.] LOPE DE KUEDA. 59 
 
 comes to tlie Spanish village, bringing his adopte(l 
 son witli him. There lie advises with a Moorish 
 necromancer how he is to proceed in oi'der to regain 
 his lost child. The Moor, by a fearfnl incantation, 
 invokes Medea, who actually appears on the stage, 
 fresh from the infernal regions, and informs him that 
 his danghter is living in the A^ery village where they 
 all are. Meanwhile the daughter has seen the youth 
 from Hungary, and they are at once in love with 
 each other ; — the blacksmith, at the same time, 
 having decided, with the aid of his wife, to compel her 
 to marry a shoemaker, to whom he had before 
 promised her. Here, of course, * come troul^les * 50 
 and confusion. The young lady undertakes to 
 cut them short, at once, by simply drowning herself, 
 but is prevented by Neptune, who quietly carries her 
 down to his abodes under the roots of the ocean, and 
 brings her back at the right moment to solve all 
 the difficulties, explain the relationships, and end the 
 whole with a wedding and a dance. This is, no doubt, 
 very wild and extravagant, especially in the part con- 
 taining the incantation and in the part played by 
 Neptune ; but, after all, the dialogue is pleasant and 
 easy, and the style natural and spirited. 
 
 The two Pastoral Colloquies differ from the four 
 Comedias, partly in having even less carefully con- 
 structed plots, and partly in affecting, through their 
 more bucolic portions, a stately and pedantic air, which 
 is anything but agreeable. They belong, however, 
 substantially to the same class of dramas, and received 
 a different name, perhaps, only from the circumstance 
 that a pastoral tone was always popular in Spanish 
 poetry, and that, from the time of Enzina, it had been 
 considered peculiarly fitted for public exhibition. The
 
 60 LOPE DE RUEDA. [Period II. 
 
 comic parts of the Colloquies are the only portions of 
 them that have merit ; and the following passage from 
 that of " Timbria " is as characteristic of Lope de 
 Rueda's light and natural manner as anything, per- 
 haps, that can be selected from what we have of his 
 dramas. It is a discussion between Leno, the shrewd 
 fool of the piece, and Troico,^ in which Leno in- 
 geniously contrives to get rid of all blame for having 
 eaten up a nice cake which Timbria, the lady in love 
 with Troico, had sent to him by the faithless glutton. 
 
 Leixx). Ah, Troico, are you there ? 
 
 Troico. Yes, my good fellow, don't you see I am ? 
 
 Leno. It would be better if I did not see it. 
 
 Troico. Why .so, Leno ? 
 
 Lcno. Why, then you would not know a piece of ill-luck that has just 
 happened. 
 
 Troico. What ill-luck ? 
 
 Lcno. What day is it to-day ? 
 Troico. Thursday. 
 * 51 * Lcno. Thursday ? How soon will Tuesday come, then ? 
 Troico. Tuesday is passed two days ago. 
 
 Lc'iio. Well, that 's something ; — but tell me, are there not other days of ill- 
 luck as well as Tuesdays ? ^ 
 
 Troico. What do you ask that for ? 
 
 Lciu). I ask, because there may be unlucky pancakes, if these are unlucky 
 Thursdays. 
 
 Troico. I suppose so. 
 
 Ltno. Now, stop there ; — suppose one of yours had been eaten of a Thurs- 
 day ; on whom would the ill-luck have fallen ? — on the pancake, or on you ? 
 
 Troico. No doubt, on me. 
 
 Lc'M. Then, my good Troico, comfort yourself, and begin to suffer and be pa- 
 tient ; for men, as the saying i.s, are born to misfortunes, and these are matters, 
 in fine, that come from God ; and in the order of time you must die yourself, 
 and, as the saying is, your last hour will then be come and arrived. Take it, 
 then, patiently, and remember that we are here to-morrow and gone to-day. 
 
 Troico. For heaven's sake, Leno, is anybody in tlie family dead ? Or else why 
 do you console me so ? 
 
 Lew). Would to heaven that were all, Troico ! 
 
 ^ Troico, it should be obsers'ed, is a E.«t» cscrito, 
 
 woman in di.sguisc;. ^' ^''"•'o« e.. dia aciago. 
 
 28 This superstition about Tuesday as „^^P« 'l« >•'*;''.'•'' f'"<^''|'" ,"^" ™ SS**' \'';? 
 
 1 1 'i ■ . I- i • 11. ( omediaa, Madnd, 1615, 4to, Tom. VL 
 
 an unlucky day is not unirequeut in \ Y\:i, a. --"^""i « "■ ^ ■ 
 
 the old Spanish drama : —
 
 Cii.vi'. YIL] LOPE DE IIUEDA. Gl 
 
 Troico. Then wliat is it ? Can't you tell me witliout so many circumlocutions ? 
 What is all this preamble about ? 
 
 'Lcno. When my poor mother died, he that brought me the news, before he 
 told me of it, diagged me round through more turn-abouts than there are wind- 
 ings in the Pisueiga and Zapardiel.-* 
 
 Troico. But I have got no mother, and never knew one. I don't comprehend 
 what you mean. 
 
 Leno. Then smell of this napkin. 
 
 Troico. Very well, 1 have smelt of it. 
 
 Leno. What does it smell of ? 
 
 Troico. Something like butter. 
 
 Leno. Then you may truly say, " Here Troy was." 
 
 Troico. What do you mean, Leno ? 
 
 Leno. For you it was given to me ; for yon Madam Timbria sent it, all stuck 
 over with nuts ; — but, as I have (and Heaven and everybody else knows it) a 
 sort of natural relationshii) for whatever is good, my eyes watched and followed 
 her just as a hawk follows chickens. 
 
 Troico. Followed whom, villain ? Timbria ? 
 
 Leno. Heaven forbid ! But how nicely she sent it, all made up with butter 
 and sugar 1 
 
 Troico. And what was that ? 
 
 * Leno. The pancake, to be sure, — don't you understand ? * 52 
 
 Troico. And who sent a pancake to me ? 
 
 Leno. Why, Madam Timbria. 
 
 Troico. Then what became of it ? 
 
 Leno. It was consumed. 
 
 Troico. How ? • 
 
 Leno. By looking at it. 
 
 Troico. Who looked at it ? 
 
 Leno. I, by ill-luck. 
 
 Troico. In what fashion ? 
 
 Leno. Why, I sat down by the wayside. 
 
 Troico. Well, what next ? 
 
 Leiw. I took it in my hand. 
 
 Troico. And then ? 
 
 Leno. Then I tried how it ta.sted ; and what between taking and leaving all 
 around the edges of it, when I tried to think what had become of it, I found 1 
 had no sort of recollection. 
 
 Troico. The upshot is that you ate it ? 
 
 Leno. It is not impossible. 
 
 Troico. In faith, you are a trusty fellow ! 
 
 Leno. Indeed ! do you think so ? Hereafter, if I bring two, I will eat tliem 
 both, and so be better yet. 
 
 Troico. The business goes on well. 
 
 Leno. And well advised, and at small cost, and to my content. But now, go 
 to ; suppose we have a little jest with Timbria. 
 
 Troico. Of what sort ? 
 
 2* Rivers in the north of Spain, often mentioned in Sjiniiisli poetry, especially 
 the first of them.
 
 62 
 
 LOPE DE KUEDA. 
 
 [Pkkiod II. 
 
 Leno. Suppose j'ou make her believe you ate the pancake j^ourself, and when 
 she thinks it is true, 3-ou and I can laugh at the trick till you sjilit your sides. 
 Can you ask for anything better '\ 
 
 Trolco. You counsel well. 
 
 Leno. "Well, Heaven bless the men that listen to reason ! I'ut till me, Troico, 
 do you think you can carry out the jest with a grave face ? 
 
 Troico. I ? "What have I to laugh about ? 
 
 LcH'). Wliy, don't you think it is a laughing matter to make her believe you 
 ate it, when all the time it was your own good Leno that did it ? 
 
 Troico. Wisely said. But now liold your tongue, and go about your busi- 
 ness. 
 
 
 * The ten Pasos are miicli like this dialogue, 
 — shoi't and lively, without plot or results, and 
 
 25 Len. Ah, Troico I estisaca? 
 
 Tro. iSi, lierniano: tu no loves? 
 
 Lm. ilus valiera que no. 
 
 Tro. Porqiie, I.eno? 
 
 Len. Porquc no sujiicra.-; una flc.-'gracia, que 
 ha succdido harto poco ha. 
 
 Tro. Y que ha Siiilo la de.<f;i'acia ? 
 
 Len. Que e.s hoy ? 
 
 Tro. .Juevc!. 
 
 Len. Jueves? Quanto Ic falta pani .scr Mav- 
 tes? 
 
 Tro. Antes le .=ohi-an dos dia.s. 
 
 Len. Mucho es eso 1 Mas dime, suele liaber 
 dias aziagos asi coino los Marte.s ? 
 
 Tro. Porque lo dices ? 
 
 Len. Pregunto, ponjue tanibien hahri hojal- 
 dres desprraciadas, pues bay JueVes de.-sgraciados. 
 
 Tro. Creo que si ! ^ 
 
 Len. Y ven aci : si tc la hubiesen coniido a ti 
 una en Jueves, en quien habria caido la desgra- 
 cia, en la hojaldre 6 en ti ? 
 
 Tro. No hay duda sino que en mi. 
 
 Len. Pues, herniano Troico, acondrtaos, y 
 oonienziid 4 sufrir, y scr paciente, que i)or los 
 hombres (romo dicen) suelen venir las d((Sgra- 
 cias, y estas son cosas de Dios en fin, y tanibien 
 segun orden de los dins os jwdriades vos liiorir, 
 y (como dicen) ya .seria recomplid.i y alle-rada 
 la hora postrimora, rescebildo con jjaciencia, y 
 acordaos que manana somos y hoy no. 
 
 Tro. Valaine Dios, licnol Es inucrto alguno 
 en casa? como me consuelas ausi ? 
 
 Len. Ojal i , Troico I 
 
 Tro. Pues que fu^ ? No lo dir'.s sin t.antos 
 circunloquins ? Para que es tanto pre'.mbulo? 
 
 Len. Quando mi madre muri •, para decir- 
 melo el que nic Uevi la nueva me traj p mas ro- 
 deos rjue tiene bueltas I'isuerfra 6 Zapardiel 
 
 Tro. Pues yo no tengo madre, ni la couosci, 
 nj te entiendo. 
 
 Len. Huele ese pauizuelo. 
 
 Trn. Y bien ? Ya esti olido. 
 
 Len. A que huele ? 
 
 Tro. A cosa de manteca. 
 
 Len. Pues bien jjucdes decir, aqui fue Troya. 
 
 Tro. Como, Ijcno? 
 
 Len. Para ti me la habian dado, para ti la 
 embiaba retjcstida de pifiones la Senora Tim- 
 bria ; pero como yo soy (y lo sabe Dios y todo el 
 mundo) allegailo A lo bueno, en vi(''ndola asi, se 
 me vinicron los ojos tras ella como milano tras 
 de poUeni. 
 
 Tro. Tras quien, traidor? tras Timbria? 
 
 Len. Que no, v.dame Dios I Que cnipapada 
 la embial)a de manteca y azucar 1 
 
 Tro. La,que? 
 
 Len. La hojaldre: no lo entiendes? 
 
 Tro. Y quien nie la embiaba ? 
 
 Len. I>ii 8eriora Timliria. 
 
 Tro. Pues que la heeiste? 
 
 Lfn. Consurci .se. 
 
 Tni. Dc qvie? 
 
 LiH. De DJo. 
 
 Tro. Quicii la ojeo? 
 
 Len. Yomalpuutol 
 
 Tro. Dc qvie uianera? 
 
 Len. Asentenie en el camino. 
 
 Tro. Y fiue mas .' 
 
 Lett. 'J'omela en la m.mo. 
 
 Trii. Y luego .' 
 
 Li^n. Prove a que sabia, y como por una 
 Tanda y por otra estaba de dar y tomar, quaudo 
 por ella acorde, ya no habia memoria. 
 
 Tro. "En fin, te ]a comiste ? 
 
 Len. Podria sfc-. 
 
 Tro, Por cierto, que eres honibre de buen 
 recado. 
 
 Len. A fc? que te parezco ? De aqui ade- 
 lante si tnigere dos, me las comere juntas, para 
 hacello m<'jor. 
 
 Tro. liueno va el negocio. 
 
 lA-n. Y bien regido, y con pnca costa, y a mi 
 contento. !Mas ven aci, si quies que riauios un 
 rato con Timbria ? 
 
 Tro De que su(!7te ? 
 
 Len. Puedes le hacer en creyente,que la co- 
 miste tu, y como ella jjiense que es verdad, po- 
 dremos de.«pues tu y yo reir aca de la burla ; 
 (jiie robentar'.s riyendol Que mas quies? 
 
 Tro. lUen me aconsejas. 
 
 Len. Agora V)ien : Dios bcndiga los hombres 
 acogidos a razon ! Pi-ro dime, Troico, sabrJs 
 disimular con ella sin rcirte? 
 
 Tro. Yo ? de ([ue me habia de reir ? 
 
 Len. No te paresee, que es manera de reir, 
 hacelle en creyentc, que tu te la comiste, ha- 
 bit'-ndosela comido tu amigo I^eno ? 
 
 Tro Dices sabianiente; mas calla, vete en 
 buen hora. 
 
 (r.as Quatro Oomedias, etc. , de Lope de Rueda, 
 Sevilla, 1676, 8vo.) 
 
 The learned allusion to Troy by a 
 man as humble as Leno might seem in- 
 apiiro])iiatc ; but it is a plirase that was 
 in jiopular use. Don Quixote eni])loyed 
 it, when, leaving Barcelona, he looked 
 back uj)on tliat city as tlie .scene of his 
 final discomfiture and disgrace. It oc- 
 cui-s often in the old dramatists.
 
 CHA1-. VII.] LOPE DE KUEDA. 60 
 
 merely intended to amuse an idle audience for a few 
 moments. Two of them are on glutton tricks, like 
 that practised by Leno ; others are between thieves 
 and cowards; and all are drawn from common life, 
 and written with spirit. It is very possible that some 
 of them were taken out of larger and more foi-mal 
 dramatic compositions, which it was not thought 
 worth while to print entire.^^ 
 
 The two dialogues in verse are curious, as the only 
 specimens of Lojje de Rueda's poetry that are now ex- 
 tant, except some songs, and a fragment preserved by 
 Cervantes."" One is called " Proofs of Love," 
 and is a sort * of pastoral discussion between * 54 
 two shepherds, on the question which was most 
 favored, the one who had received a finger-ring as a 
 present, or the one who had received an ear-ring. It 
 is written in easy and flowing qidnUWm^ and is not 
 longer than one of the slight dialogues in prose. The 
 other is called " A Dialogue on the Breeches now in 
 Fashion," and is in the same easy measure, but has 
 more of its author's peculiar spirit and manner. It is 
 between two lackeys, and begins thus abruptly : — 
 
 Peraltcc. Master Fuentes, wliat 's the change, I jiray, 
 
 I notice in your hosiery and shape ? 
 
 You seem so very swollen as you walk. 
 Fuentes. Sir, 't is the breeches fashion now piescribes. 
 Pcraltn. 1 thought it was an under-petticoat. 
 Fuentes. I 'm not ashamed of what I have put on. 
 
 Why must I wear my breeches made like yours ? 
 
 Good friend, j'^our own are wholly out of vogue. 
 
 26 This I infer from the fact that, at and were not called cnlremcses till Timo- 
 
 the end of the edition of the Comedias neda gave them the name. Still, they 
 
 and Colo(|uios, 1576, there is a "Tabla may have been earlier used as such, or 
 
 de los pasos graciosos que se pueden as introductions to the longer dramas, 
 sacar de las presentes Comedias y Colo- -^ There is a (ilosd ))rintc<l at the end 
 
 <[uios y poner en otras obras." Indeed, of the Comedias ; but it is not of much 
 
 2MS0 meant a passage. Pasos were, value. The passage preserved by Cer- 
 
 iKJwever, undoubtedly sometimes writ- vantes is in his " Bahos de Argel," 
 
 ten as separate works by Lope de Kueda, near the end.
 
 64 
 
 LOPE DE KUEDA. 
 
 [Vev.wd IL 
 
 Feraldi. But what arc yours so lined and stuflcd withal, 
 
 That thus they seem so very smooth and tight ? 
 Fuenles. Of that we '11 say hut little. An old mantle, 
 
 And a cloak still older and more spoik'd, 
 
 Do vainly struggle from my hose t' escape. 
 Fcralta. 'J'o my mind they were used to blotter ends 
 
 If sewed up for a horse's blanket, sir. 
 Fucntes. But others stuff in jdenty of clean straw 
 
 And rushes to make out a shapely form — • 
 Feroha. Proving that they are more or less akin 
 
 To beasts of burden. 
 Fuenles. lint tliey wear, at least, 
 
 Such gallant hosiery that things of taste 
 
 ■May well be added to fit out their dress. 
 Fcral/a. No doubt the man that dresses thus in straw 
 
 May tastefully put on a saddle too.''^^ 
 
 * 55 *In all the forms of the draiiia attempted by 
 Lope de Rueda, the main purpose is evidently 
 to amiise a popular audience. But, to do this, his 
 theatrical resources were very small and humble. " In 
 the time of this celebrated Sj)aniard," says Cervantes, 
 
 28 Per. Spiior Fuentes, qiic imulanxa 
 
 Ilabeis hecho en el calz-udo, 
 
 Con (jue andais tan abultado ? 
 Fiient. Seiior, calzas 4 la usjinza. 
 Pfr. IVnse ijir era verdufjado. 
 Fuent. I'ues _vo d' ellas no me corro. 
 
 Que hail de ser coino las vuesas? 
 
 Ilerniano, ya no usan d' esas. 
 Per. lias ((ue les hecliais de aforro, 
 
 Que aun se paran tan tiesas? 
 Fittnl. D" eso poco : iin sajo viejo 
 
 Y toda vma ruin rapa, 
 
 Que a esta calza no escapa. 
 Ptr. Piles, si van a mi consejo, 
 
 Ilecliaran una -^uaMnipa. 
 Fiifiit. Y aun otros niandaii poner 
 
 Co)iia de paja y e^jjarto, 
 
 I'orque lee abulteii liarto. 
 Per. f>os deben de tener 
 
 De bestias quiz i ajfiun quarto. 
 Fitent. Pondrase qual<|uier alliaja 
 
 Por traer calzii pillarda. 
 Per. Cierto yo no S(5 que aguarda. 
 
 Quien va vestido de paja 
 
 De hacerse alguna albarda. 
 
 1 do not know that this dialogue is 
 printed anywhere but at the end of the 
 edition of the Comedias, 1 576. It refers 
 evidently to tlie broad-bottomed stulfed 
 hose or boots, then coming into fasliion ; 
 such as the daughter of Sancho, in lier 
 vanity, wlien she heard her fatlier was 
 governor of Barrataria, wanted to see 
 liim wear ; and such a.s Don Carlo.s, ac- 
 cording to the account of 'J'liuanus, wore. 
 
 when he used to hide in their strange 
 recesses the ])ist()ls that alarmed Philip 
 II.; — " caligis, (ju;e amplissimie de 
 nion; gentis in usu sunt." They were- 
 forbidilen by a royal ordinance in 1623. 
 See I). Quixote, (Parte II. c. 50,) with 
 two amusing stories told in the notes 
 of Pellicer and Thnani Historiarum, 
 Lib. XLl., at tlie beginning. Tliev 
 became iashionable in other parts of 
 Europe, as tlie wliole Spanish costume, 
 liat, f(>athers, cloak, etc., did from the 
 spread of Spanish ](Ower and prestige : 
 that is, jirecisely for the .same reasons 
 that the French dress and fa.shions have 
 si)read since the time of Louis XIV. 
 Figueroa ( Plaga Universal, 161;'), ff. 226, 
 227) has an amusing article about 
 tailors, in which he claims ]irecedence 
 for the skill and taste of those in Ma- 
 diid, and shows liow theii' supremacy 
 was acknowledged in France and Italy. 
 Tiiat it was ai'knowledged in England 
 in the time of Elizabeth and James \. 
 we very W(dl know. Roger Ascliam, 
 ill his "Schoolmaster," talks of the 
 very "luige hose" here referied to, as 
 an "outrage" to be rebuked and re- 
 pressed, like that of the "monstrous 
 hats," etc., — all Spanish.
 
 €hai'. VII.] TI1EATKI-: 1\ 'I'lIK TIMK t)F J.OPE DE KUEDA. G5 
 
 recalling the gay season of his own youth,-^ " the whole 
 apparatus of a manager was contained in a large sack, 
 and consisted of foin- white shepherd's jackets, turned 
 up with leather, gilt and stamped ; four Ijenrds and 
 Mse sets of hanging locks ; and four shepherd's crooks, 
 more or less. The plays were colloquies, like eclogues, 
 between two or three shepherds and a shepherdess, 
 fitted up and extended with two or three interludes, 
 whose personages were sometimes a negress, some- 
 times a bully, sometimes a fool, and sometimes a Bis- 
 €ayan ; — for all these four parts, and many others. 
 Lope himself performed with the greatest excellence 
 and skill that can be imagined. .... The theatre 
 was composed of four benches, arranged in a square, 
 with five or six boards laid across them, that were 
 
 thus raised about four palms from the ground 
 
 The furniture of the theatre was an old blanket drawn 
 aside by two cords, making what they call the tiring- 
 room, behind which w^ere the musicians, who sang old 
 ballads without a guitar." 
 
 The place where this rude theatre was set up was 
 a public square, and the performances occurred when- 
 ever an audience could be collected ; apparently both 
 forenoon and afternoon, for, at the end of one of his 
 plays, Lope de Rueda invites his " hearers only to eat 
 their dinner and return to the square," ^'^ and witness 
 another. 
 
 His four longer dramas have some resem- 
 blance to portions * of the earlier English com- * 56 
 edy, which, at precisely the same period, was 
 beginning to show itself in pieces such as "Ralph 
 Royster Doyster," and " Gammer Gurton's Needle." 
 
 2^ Comedias, Prologo. 
 
 ^'' "Auditores, no hagais siiio coiner, y dad la vuelta a la plaza."
 
 66 JUAX DE XmONEDA. [rnvAoD 11. 
 
 They are divided into what are called scenes, — the 
 shortest of them consisting of six, and the longest of 
 ten ; but in these scenes the place sometimes changes, 
 and the persons often, — a eircuuistance of little conse- 
 (juence, where the whole arrangements implied no 
 real attempt at scenic illusion .'^^ Much of the success 
 of all depended on the part played by the fools, or 
 ■simples, Avho, in most of his di-amas, are important per- 
 sonages, almost constantly on the stage ; '^'^ while some- 
 thing is done by mistakes in language, arising from 
 vuliJ:ar ii>:norance or from foreiirn dialects, like those of 
 negroes and Moors. Each piece opens with a brief 
 explanatorj' prologue, and ends with a word of jest and 
 apology to the audience. Naturalness of thought, the 
 most ■ easy, idiomatic, purely Castilian turns of expres- 
 sion, a good-humored, free gayety, a strong sense of 
 the ridiculous, and a happy imitation of the manners 
 and tone of connnon life, are the pi-ominent character- 
 istics of these, as tliey are of all the rest of his shorter 
 efforts. He was, therefore, on the right road, and was, 
 in consequence, afterwards justlj^ reckoned, both by 
 Cervantes ;ind Lope de Vega, to be the true founder 
 of the popular national theatre.^ 
 
 The earliest follower of Lope de Rueda was his 
 friend and editor, Juan de Timoneda, a l)Ookseller of 
 A'ak'ucia, who certainly nourished dining the niiddk' 
 and latter })ai"t of the sixteenth century, and ])r()l)ably 
 
 31 In the fifth escena of the "Eufe- da," ami, wlieu .siieakiiigof the SjKiiii.sli 
 mia," the place changes, when Valiaiio eonieilias, treats lii»i as "el juiuiero 
 comes in. Indeed, it is evident that i[ue en Espaua las sacu de mantillas y 
 Lope de Rueda did not know the mean- his jjuso en toldo y vistio de gala y 
 ing of the word *■««<", or did not employ apaiiencia." This was in lei.'i ; and 
 it aright. Cervantes sjwke from his own knowl- 
 
 32 The first traces of these simplex, edge and memory. In l(i2(l, in the 
 who weie afterwards expanded into the Prologo to the thirti'cnth volume of his 
 graciosiis, is to be found in the p'(rvos Comedias, (Ma<lriil, 4t(),) Lojte de Vega 
 of Oil Vicente. says, " Las eomedias no eraii mas anti- 
 
 33 Cervantes, in the Prologo already guas(|ue K'lieda, a quien oj-eronmuchos, 
 cited, calls him " el gran Lojie d<' Hue- cjue liDy vivcn."
 
 Chap. VII.] JUAN DK TIMONEDA. 67 
 
 died in extiviuc old age, soon alter the year 
 * 1597.^^ His thirteen or fourteen pieces that * 57 
 were printed pass under various names, and 
 have a consideraljle variety in their character ; the 
 most popular in their tone Ijeing the Ijest, Four are 
 called "Pasos," and four " Farsas," — all much alike. 
 Two are called "Comedias," one of which, the ''Aure- 
 lia," written in short verses, is divided into five j'onmdas, 
 and has an introito, after the manner of Naharro ; while 
 the other, the " Cornelia," is merely divided into seven 
 scenes, and Avritten in prose, after the manner of Lope 
 de Rueda. Besides these, we have what, in the pres- 
 ent sense of the word, is for the first time called an 
 "Entremes"; a Tragicomedia, which is a mixture of 
 mythology and modern history ; a religious Auto, 
 on the subject of the Lost Sheep ; and a translation, 
 or rather an imitation, of the " Menaechmi " of Plautus. 
 In all of them, however, he seems to have relied for 
 success on a spirited, farcical dialogue, like that of 
 Lope de Rueda ; and all were, no doubt, written to be 
 acted in the public squares, to which, more than once, 
 they make allusion.^^ 
 
 The " Cornelia," first printed in 1559, is somewhat 
 confused in its story. We have in it a young lady, 
 taken, when a child, by the Moors, and returned, when 
 grown up, to the neighborhood of her friends, without 
 knowing who she is ; a foolish fellow, deceived by his 
 wife, and yet not without shrewdness enough to make 
 much merriment ; and Pasquin, partly a quack doctor, 
 
 ^* Ximeno, Escritores de Valencia, in Valencia, "in this honse which you 
 
 Tom. I. p. 72, and Faster, Biblioteca see," he adds, pointing the spectators 
 
 Valenciana, Tom. I. p. 161. But best picturesque]}-, and no doubt with comic 
 
 in Barreira y Leirado ad verb. efl'ect, to some house they could all see. 
 
 ^ In the Prologue to the Cornelia, A similar je.st about another of tlie 
 
 one of the speakers says that one of the personages is repeated a little furthei 
 
 principal personages of the piece lives on.
 
 68 JUAX DE TOIOXEDA. * [Pkriod II. 
 
 partlj'' a magician, and Avholly a rogue ; who, with, five 
 or six other characters, make rather a superabunchmce 
 of materials for so short a drama. Some of the dia- 
 logues are full of life ; and the development of two or 
 three of the characters is good, esjoecially that of Cor- 
 nalla, the clown ; but the most prominent personage, 
 perhaps, — the magician, — is taken, in a considerable 
 degree, from the " Negromante " of Ariosto, which was 
 represented at Ferrara al^out thirty years ear- 
 * 58 lier, and proves tluit * Timoneda had some 
 scholarship, if not always a ready invention.^'' 
 
 The "Menennos," puljlished in the same year with 
 the Cornelia, is further proof of his learning. It is in 
 prose, and taken from Plautus ; but with large changes. 
 The plot is laid in Seville ;" the play is divided into 
 fourteen scenes, after the example of Lope de Rueda ; 
 and the manners are altogether Spanish. There is 
 even a talk of Lazarillo de Tonnes, when speaking of 
 an luiprincipled 3'oung servant.^*^ But it shows fre- 
 quently the same free and natural dialogue, fresh from 
 common life, that is found in his master's dramas ; and 
 it can be read with pleasure throughout, as an amusing 
 rifacimento^ 
 
 The Paso, however, of " The Blind Beggars and the 
 Boy " is, like the other short jiieces, more characteristic 
 of the author and of the little school to which he 
 belonged. It is written in short, familiar verses, and 
 opens with an address to the audience by Palillos, the 
 boy, asking for employment, and setting forth his own 
 good qualities, which he illustrates by showing how 
 
 ^ "Con jirivilc^io. CoMicdia llama- licniiaiio do Lazarillo do TorniPS. cl que 
 
 da Cornelia, iiuevanieiitecompucsta, jior tuvo trczicntos y cinoiicnta amo.s." 
 Juan de Timoneda. Es niuy sentida, ^ "Con jirivilegio. La Coniedia de 
 
 graciosa, y vozijada. Ano 1559." 8vo. los Menennos, tiaduzida por Juan Timo- 
 
 ^ It is in the twelfth scene. "Es nedii, y jmesta en gracioso estilo y ele- 
 
 cl mas agudo rapaz del mundo, y es gautes sentencias. Afio 1559." 8vo.
 
 CiiAi'. VII.] .II'AX I)K TIMONKDA. O'J 
 
 ingeiiiou.sly lie had rob))e(l a 1)1111(1 bog-«^'ar avIio had 
 been his master. At this instant, Martin Alvarez, the 
 blind beggar in question, approaches on one side of a 
 square where the scene passes, chanting his prayers, 
 as is still the wont of such persons in the streets of 
 Spanish cities ; while on the other side of the same 
 square approaches another of the same class, called 
 Pero Gomez, similarly employed. Both offer their 
 prayers in exchange for alms, and are particularly 
 earnest to obtain custom, as it is Christinas eve. Mar- 
 tin Alvarez begins : — 
 
 What jiious Christian here 
 Will bid me pray 
 A blessed prayer, 
 Quite singular 
 And neA\* I say, 
 In honor of our Lady dear? 
 
 * On hearing the well-known voice, Palillos, the * 59 
 boy, is alarmed, and, at first, talks of escaping ; 
 but, recollecting that there is no need of this, as the 
 beggar is blind, he merely stands still, and his old 
 master goes on : — 
 
 0, bid me pray ! 0, bid me pray ! — 
 
 The very night is holy time, — 
 0, bid me pray the blessed prayer. 
 
 The birth of Christ in rhyme ! 
 
 But as nobody offers an alms, he breaks out again : — 
 
 Good heavens ! the like was never known ! 
 The thing is truly fearful grown ; 
 For I have cried. 
 Till my throat is dried. 
 At every corner on my way, 
 And not a soul heeds what I say 
 The people, I begin to fear, 
 Are grown too careful of their gear, 
 For honest prayers to i)ay. 
 
 The other blind beggar, Pero Gomez, now comes up 
 and strikes in : —
 
 70 
 
 JUAX DE TIMONEDA. 
 
 FPeiuod 11. 
 
 "Wlio will ask fur the Lliiul man's prayer ? 
 0, gentle souls that hear my word ! 
 C.ive but an humble alms, 
 And 1 will sing the holy psalms 
 For which Pope Clement's bulls afford 
 Indulgence full, indulgen(;e rare, 
 
 And add, besides, the blessed prayer 
 For the birth of our blessed Lord.^^ 
 
 The two blind men, hearing each other, enter into 
 conversation, and, believing themselves to be 
 * 60 alone, Alvarez * relates how he had been 
 robbed by his unprincipled attendant, and Go- 
 mez explains how he avoids sncli misfortunes by 
 always canying the ducats he begs sewed into his cajD. 
 Palillos, learning this, and not well pleased with the 
 character he has just receivjid, comes very quietly up 
 to Gomez, knocks off his cap, and escapes with it. 
 Gomez thinks it is his blind friend wlio has played him 
 the trick, and asks civilly to have his cap l)ack again. 
 The friend denies, of course, all knowledge of it; 
 Gomez insists ; and the dialogue ends, as others of its 
 class do, with a quarrel and a fight, to the great amuse- 
 ment, no doubt, of audiences such as were collected in 
 the public squares of Valencia or Seville.'^ 
 
 ^'•i Di'Totos crLstianos, quien 
 M;iiida rcKir 
 I'lia r)r:icinn .«inf);ular 
 Nueva du nuestra Seiiora? 
 
 Mandadme rezar, pucs que es 
 Nophc Santa, 
 Ijii oracion segun se oanta 
 Del naciniiento de Cristo. 
 .Ic'susl nunca till he visto, 
 Cosa es osta qut uie espanta : 
 Seca tengo la giirganta 
 Dc pregnnes 
 
 Que voy dando j)()r cantones, 
 Y uada no nie aprf)vecha : 
 Ks la gente tan estreeha, 
 Que no cuida de oraciones. 
 
 Quii'n nianda sus devociones, 
 
 Noble gi-iite, 
 Que reel' devotaniente 
 lx)S salnios de penitenria, 
 Por lo8 euales indulgenrja 
 Otorg) el Papa Cleuiente ! 
 
 La oraeion del naciniiento 
 De Cliristo. 
 
 L. V. Monitin, Obras, Madrid, 1830, 8vo, Tom. 
 I. p. 048. 
 
 ^'^ This Paso — true to the manners 
 of the times, as we can see from a simi- 
 lar scene in the " Diablo C'ojuelo," 
 Tranco VI. — is reprinted by L. F. 
 iloratin, (Obras, 8yo, Madrid, 1830, 
 Tom. I. Parte II. p. 644,) who gives 
 (Parte I. Catalogo, Nos. 95, 9G, 106- 
 IIS) the best account of all the works 
 of Timoneda. The habit of .singing 
 ])opular poetiy of all kinds in the streets 
 lias been common, from the days of the 
 Archpriest ilita (Coida 14S8)" to our 
 own times. I haye uiten listened to it, 
 and possess many of the ballads and 
 other ver.ses still paid for by an alms, 
 as they were in this Paso of Timoneda.
 
 CiiAi'. VII.] .JUAN 1)E TIMONEDA. 71 
 
 In one of tlie jilays of ('(rviuitcs, — The lines in tiie oiiginal iire iioi con- 
 that of "Pedro de Urdenialas," — the secutive, but those 1 have selected are 
 hero is introduced enacting the part of as follows : — - 
 a blind beggar, and is advertising him- . 
 self by his chant, just as the beggar in v-sc'lat^s^^l^llXio, 
 1 llnoneda does : — Lji ae San Quino y Acacio, 
 The prayer of the secret soul I know, 'v*' '* '^'^ '""^ sabanoiies, 
 
 That of Pancras the blessed of okl ; \f '^^ ™™^ '«■ '<•'■"••"■ 
 
 The prayer of Acacius and Quirce ; ^ resolver lan.parones. 
 
 One for ehilblains that come from the cold, Comedias, iMaUrid, 1015, 4to, f. 207. 
 
 One for jaundice that yellows the skin, ' ' "> " >' '^•• 
 And for scrofula working within.
 
 *CA ^CHAPTER YTTT. 
 
 THEATRE. FOLLOWEUS OF LOPE HE Rt'EDA. ALON'SO DE LA VEGA. CISNE- 
 
 ROS. .SEVILLE. MALAUA. CLEVA. ZEl'EDA. VALENCIA. VIRUES. 
 
 TRANSLATIONS ANH IMITATIONS OF THE AN( lENT CLASSICAL DRAMA. — 
 
 VILLALOHOS. OLIVA. BOSCAN. — AUUIL. ISEKMl DEZ. ARGENSOLA. — 
 
 STATE OF THE THEATRE. 
 
 Two of the persons attached to Lope de Rueda's 
 company were, like himself, authors as well as actors. 
 One of them, Alonso de la Vega, died at Valencia as 
 early as 1566, in which 3'ear three of his dramas, all in 
 prose', and one of them directly imitated from his mas- 
 ter, were published by Timoneda.^ The other, Alonso 
 Cisneros, lived as late as 1570. l)ut it does not seem 
 certain that any dramatic work of his now exists.^ 
 Neither of them was equal to Lope de Rueda or Juan 
 de Timoneda ; but the four taken together produced 
 an impression on the theatrical taste of their times 
 which was never afterwards wholly Ibrgotten or lost, 
 — a fact of which the shorter dramatic compositions 
 that have been favorites on the Spanish stage ever 
 .since give decisive proof. 
 
 But dramatic representations in Spain between 1560 
 and 1 •")!)() were by 110 means confined to what was done 
 by Lope de Rueda, his IViends. and his strolling com- 
 pany of actors. Other efforts were made in various 
 places, and upon other principles ; sometimes with 
 more success than theirs, sometimes with less. In 
 Seville, a irood deal seems I0 liave l)een done. It is 
 
 1 C. IVllifcr, 0n<,'(-ii de la C'onifdia, Tom. I. p. Ill ; Tom. II. p. 18 ; with L. F. 
 Moratin, Ohias, Tom. I. Parte 11. p. 638, and liis ("ataloRo, No.s. 100, 104, and 105. 
 ^ C. l'<-lliici-, Uii'f,'<Mi, Tom. I. p. llti; Tom. II. p. -iO.
 
 CiiAi'. VIII.] JUAN I)E LA (TEVA. 73 
 
 probable the plays of Malara or Mai Lara, a native of 
 that citA", were represented there during this 
 period ; but they are now all * lost.^ Those of * G2 
 Juan de la Cueva, on the contrary, have been 
 partly preserved, and merit notice for many reasons, 
 but especially because most of them are historical. 
 They were represented — at least, the few that still 
 remain — in I-jTO, and the years immediately sub- 
 sequent; but were not printed till l-OHS, and then 
 only a single volume appeared.* Each of them is 
 divided into four jornadas, or acts, and they are writ- 
 ten in various measures, mcluding terza rhna^ blank 
 verse, and sonnets, but chiefly in redondilluH and octave 
 stanzas. Several are on national subjects, like " The 
 Children of Lara," " Bernardo del Carpio," and '• The 
 Siege of Zamora " ; others are on subjects from ancient 
 history, such as Ajax, Virginia, and Mutius Scievola ; 
 some are on fictitious stories, like " The Old Man in 
 Love," and "The Decapitated," which last is founded 
 on a Moorish adventure ; and one, at least, is on a great 
 event of times then recent, " The Sack of Rome " by 
 the Constable Bourbon. All, however, are crude in 
 •their structure, and unequal in their execution. The 
 Sack of Rome, for instance, is merely a succession of 
 dialogues thrown together in the loosest manner, to set 
 
 <* Navarrete, Vida de Cervantes, p. luieiito (lue Iiizo la inuy leal Ciiulad de 
 
 410. Mai Lara will be iioti(,-ed here- Sevilla a la 0. R. M. del lley Felipe 
 
 after, (Period II. Cha]). XXXLX.,) but N. S.," etc (Sevilla, 1570, ISiuo, if. 
 
 here it may be well to mention tliat the 181); — ^a curious littli; volume, sonie- 
 
 3'ear before his death he publislied an times amusing from tlie liints it <jives 
 
 account of tlie reception of rhili)> II. about Philijt 11., Ferdinand Columbus, 
 
 at Seville in May, 1570, when Philip Lebrixa, etc. ; but oftener from the 
 
 visited that city after the war of the j^jeneral description of the city or the 
 
 Moriscos. Mai Lara prepared the in- particular accounts of the ceremonies of 
 
 scriptions, Latin and S[)anish, used to the occasion, — all in choice Castilian. 
 exjjlain tlie multitudinous allegoricnl ■* L. K. iMoratin, Obras, Tom. I. Parte 
 
 figures that constituted a great jiart of I., Catalogo, Nos. 132-139, 142-145, 
 
 the show on the occasion, and printed 147, and 150. Martinez de la Kosa, 
 
 them, and everything else that could Obras, Paris, 1827, ]2mo, Tom. IL 
 
 illustrate the occasion, in liis " Kecivi- pp. 167, etc.
 
 Y4 .lUAX I)E LA CUEVA. [I'l.uni, H. 
 
 forth the progress of the Imperial arms, from the 
 siege of Rome in May, 1527, to the coronation of 
 Charles the Filth at Bologna, in February, 1530 ; and 
 though the picture of the outrages at Rome is not 
 without an air of truth, there is little truth in other 
 respects ; the Spaniards being made to carry off all the 
 glory. ^ 
 
 " El Infamador," or The Calumniator, sets forth, in 
 
 a different tone, the story of a young lady whu 
 * 63 refuses the * love of a dissolute young man, 
 
 and is, in consequence, accused by him of mur- 
 der and other crimes, and condemned to death, but is 
 rescued by preternatural power, while her accuser suf- 
 fers in her stead. It is almost throuo-hout a revolting: 
 picture ; the fathers of the hero and heroine being each 
 made to desire the death of his own child, while the 
 whole is rendered absurd by the not unusual mixture 
 of heathen mythology and modern manners. Of 
 poetry, which is occasionally found in Cueva's other 
 dramas, there is in this play no trace, though there are 
 passages of comic spirit ; and so carelessly is it written, 
 that there is no division of the acts into scenes.^ In- 
 deed, it seems difficult to understand how several of his 
 twelve or fourteen dramas should have been brought 
 into practical shape and represented at all. It is prob- 
 aljle they were merely spoken as consecutive dia- 
 logues, to bring out their respective stories, without 
 any attempt at theatrical illusion ; a conjecture which 
 receives confirmation from the fact that nearly all of 
 them are anuoiniced, on their titles, as having been 
 
 '• "El Saco (Ic Koniii" is rt'iniiitcd of Leucino, in this "Comedia," issome- 
 
 iii Ochoa, IVatro Es^iafiol, I'iiris, 1838, tiiiics sujjposed to have sugj^osted that 
 
 8vo, Tom. I. |>. 2.'jl. of Don .luan to Tirso de Molina; but 
 
 ' "El Infaniaflor" is n;j)iinti;d in tin- n*s«;nil)lan(;c, I think, does not jus- 
 
 Ochoa, Tom. J. ji. 2'J4. 'I'hc chaructur tify tiic tunj(;i;tiire.
 
 Chap. VIII.] ROMERO I)E ZEPEDA. 75 
 
 represented in tlie u'ardeii of a certain Dona Elvirn at 
 Seville.' 
 
 The two plaj.s of Joaquin Romero de Zepeda, of 
 Badajoz, which were printed at Seville in 1-582, 
 are somewhat different from those of Cueva. One, 
 " The Metamorfosea," is in the nature of the old dra- 
 matic pastorals, but is divided into three short joniadas, 
 or acts. It is a trial of wits and love, between three 
 shepherds and three shepherdesses, who are constantly 
 at cross purposes with each other, but are at last recon- 
 ciled and united ; -7— all except one shepherd, who had 
 originally refused to love anybody, and one shepherd- 
 ess, Belisena, who, after being cruel to one of her lov- 
 ers, and slighted by another, is finally rejected by the 
 rejected of all. The other play, called '' La Comedia 
 Salvage," is taken in its first two acts from 
 the well-known dramatic novel of * " Celes- * 64 
 tina " ; the last act being filled with atrocities of 
 Zepeda's own invention. It obtains its name from the 
 Salvages or wild men, who figure in it, as such per- 
 sonages did in the old romances of chivalry and the old 
 English drama, and is as strange and rude as its title 
 implies. Neither of these pieces, however, can have 
 done anything of consequence for the advancement 
 of the drama at Seville, though each contains passages 
 of flowing and apt verse, and occasional turns of 
 thought that deserve to be called graceful.^ 
 
 ^ One of the plays, not rpproseiited in Tlie Metamorfosea may be cited for its 
 
 the Hiierta de Doha Elvira, is repre- pleasant and graceful tone of poetry, — 
 
 sented "en el Corral de Don Juan," lyrical, however, rather than dramatic, 
 
 and another in the Atarazanas, — Arse- — and its air of the olden time. An- 
 
 nal, or Ropewalks. None of them, I other play found by Schack in MS. is 
 
 suppose, appeared on a public theatre. dated 1626, and implies that Zepeda 
 
 •* These two pieces are in " Obras de was long a writer for the theatre. 
 
 Joachim Romero de Zepeda, Vezino de (Nachtrage, 18,54, p. 59. ) Other au- 
 
 Badajoz," (Sevilla, 1582, 4to, ff. 130 thors living in Seville at about the 
 
 and 118,) and are reprinted by Oehoa. same period are mentioned by La Cu- 
 
 The opening of the imcouii. jo nunhi of eva in his "Exemplar Foetico" (Se-
 
 76 CRIST(JVAL DE VIKUES. [Pkkiui, II. 
 
 During the same period, there was at Valencia, as 
 well as at Seville, a poetical movement in which the 
 drama shared, and in w hich. I think, Lope de Vega, 
 an exile in \"alencia for several years, about 1585, 
 took part. At any rate, his friend, Cristoval de A"i- 
 rues, of whom he often speaks, and who was born 
 there in 1550, was among those who then gave an hn- 
 pulse to the theatrical taste of his native city. He 
 claims to have first divided Spanish dramas into three 
 jonmdus or acts, and Lope de Vega assents to the 
 claim; but they were, both mistaken, for we now 
 know that such a division was made by Francisco de 
 Avendaiio, not later than 1553, when Virues was but 
 three years old.^ 
 
 Only five of the plays of Virues, all in verse, are 
 extant ; and these, though supposed to have been 
 written as early as 1579-1581, were not printed till 
 1609, when Lope de Vega had already given its full 
 development and character to the popular theatre ; so 
 that it is not improbable some of the dramas of Vi- 
 rues, as printed, may have been more or less al- 
 * 65 tered and accommodated to *the standard then 
 considered as settled by the genius of his friend. 
 Two of them, the " Cassandra " and the " Marcela," are 
 on subjects apparently of the A^ilencian poet's own 
 invention, and are extremely wild and extravagant ; 
 in " El Atila Furioso " abo\e [\'L\y persons come to an 
 untimely end, without reckoning the crew of a galley 
 who perish in the fianies for the diversion of the ty- 
 rant and his followers; and in the " Semiramis," ^'' the 
 
 (lano, Parnaso Espanol, Tom. VIII. Some of tlniii, from Lis account, Mroto 
 
 p. 60) : — in the maniiei- of the ancients ; and 
 
 Ix)H PevillanoBcomiooR, Guevara, lieihajis Malaia aiul iMegia are the per- 
 
 Guticrre ile Cetina, Coziir, Fut-nteH, sons lie refers to. 
 
 El ingfuioso Ortiz;- 9 4^,.^ L. ]?. Moratin, Catalogo, Ko. 
 
 who adds that tliere were otros vutcJws, 84. 
 
 many more; — but they are all lost. '" The "Semiramis" was jtrinted at
 
 L"iiAi>. VIll.J CIIRlSToVAL 1)K VIRUES. 77 
 
 subject is .so handled that when Calderon used it ajraiu 
 in his two phiys entitled "La Ilija del Aire," he eould 
 not help casting the cruel light oi' his own poetical 
 genius on the clumsy work oi' his predecessor. All 
 four of them are absurd. 
 
 The "■ Elisa Dido " is better, and may be regarded 
 as an effort to elevate the drama. It is divided into 
 five acts, and observes the unities, though ^'irues can 
 hardly have comprehended what was afterwards con- 
 sidered as their technical meaning. Its plot, invented 
 b}^ himself, and little connected with the stories found 
 in Virgil or the old Spanish chronicles, supposes the 
 Queen of Carthage to have died by her own hand for 
 a faithful attachment to the memory of Sichoeus, and 
 to avoid a marriage with larbas. It has no division 
 into scenes, and each act is burdened with a chorus. 
 In short, it is an imitation of the ancient Greek mas- 
 ters ; and as some of the lyrical portions, as well as 
 ■parts of the dialogue, are not unworthy the 
 talent of the author of the '' Monserrate," * it * GG 
 is, for the age in which it appeared, a remark- 
 able composition. But it lacks a good development of 
 the characters, as well as life and poetical warmth in 
 
 Leipzig in 1858, but published in Lon- capital letter, as Virues did, he would 
 
 don by Williams and Norgate. Its have found that it was the river " Is," 
 
 editor, whose name is not given, has or the city "Is" on its banks, botli 
 
 in this rendered good service to early mentioned by Herodotus, (Lili. I. c. 
 
 Spanish literature ; but if, by his cita- 179,) near which was the abundance of 
 
 tiou of Schack's authority in the pref- asphalt referred to l)y Virues, and so 
 
 ace, he desires to have it understood the passage would have ceased to be 
 
 that that eminent critic concurs with "unintelligible" to him; and if he 
 
 him in regarding this wild play as had read carefully the passage, (Jorn. 
 
 a work of "extraordinary merit "and III. v. 632, etc.,) he would not have 
 
 value," I think he can hardly have un- found "a line evidently wanting." I 
 
 der.stood Schack's critici.sm on it (Dra- ratiier think, too, that the editor of the 
 
 mat. Lit., Vol. 1. p. 296). Certainly "Semiramis" is wrong in supposing 
 
 he had not seen the original and only (Preface, ]). xi) that Virues "got his 
 
 edition of Virues, 1609 ; and, from the learning at se(;ond hand" ; and tliat he 
 
 note at the end of his list of errata, he will Hnd he was wrong, if he will turn 
 
 does not appear always to comprehend to the pas.sage iu Herodotus from wliich 
 
 the text he publishes. For, if he had the Spanish })()ct seems to me to have 
 
 printed "is" (Jorn. III. v. 690) with a takciu his description of Babylon.
 
 78 CLASSICAL DIIAMA ATTEMPTED. [I'icnioi) [1. 
 
 the action ; and being, in fact, an attempt to carry the 
 Spanish drama in a direction exactly opj^osite to that 
 of its destiny, it did not sncceed.^^ 
 
 Such an attempt, however, was not unlikely to be 
 made more tlian once ; and this was certainly an age 
 favorable for it. The theatre of the ancients Avas now 
 known in Spain. The translations, already noticed, 
 of Villalobos in 1-515, and of Oliva before 1530, had 
 been followed, as early as 1510, ))y one from Euripides 
 by Boscan ; ^^ in 1555, by two from Plautus, the work 
 of an unknown author ;^^ and in 1570- 1577, by the 
 '•Plutus" of Aristophanes, the "Medea" of Euripides, 
 and the six comedies of Terence, by Pedro Simon de 
 Abril.^^ The efforts of Timoneda in his " Menennos," 
 and of Virues in his " Elisa Dido," were among the 
 consequences of this state of things, and were suc- 
 ceeded by others, two of which should be noticed. 
 
 The first is by Geronimo Bermudez, a native of Ga- 
 licia, who is supposed to have been born about 1530; 
 and to have lived as late as 1589. He was a learned 
 Professor of Theology at Salamanca, and pul)lished. 
 
 ' 15 
 
 at Madrid, in 1577, two dramas, which he some 
 
 what boldly called " the first Spanish tragedies.' 
 
 11 In tlie address to the " Disi-reto Euriindcs was never ]ml)lishc'd, though 
 Letor" prefixed to the only edition of it is inehided in the permission to i)rint 
 the "Ohras tragicas y liiicas del Capi- that jjoet's works, given by ("iiarles V. 
 tan Cristoval de Virnes," (that of ila- to Hoscan's widow, 18th Febrnary, 1543, 
 drid, 1609, 12nio, 11'. 278,) we are told ])rclixed to the first edition of his Works, 
 that h(! had endeavored in the tirst fbui- whicii appeared that year at Barcelona, 
 tragedies "to unite what was best in Boscan died in 154(1. 
 
 ancient art and modern customs"; but i* L. F. Moratin, Catalogo, Nos. 86 
 
 the Dido, he .says, " va escrita toda por and 87. 
 
 el e-stilo de Griegos i Latinos con cui- i* Pellicer, Biblioteca de Traductores 
 dado y estudio." See, also, L. F. Mo- Espaholes, Tom. II. 145, etc. The 
 ratin, Catalogo, Xos. 140, 141, 146, translations from Terence by Aliril, 
 148, 148; with MartiiK^z de la Rosa, 1577, are accompanied liy Ww. Latin 
 Obras, Tom. II. ])p. 153-167. The text, and .shouhl .seem, from the " Pro- 
 play of Andres Key de Aitieda, on the logo," to have been made in the hope 
 "Lovers of Ternel," 1581, belongs to ihat they wouhl directly tend to reform 
 this period and ])lace. Ximeno, Tom. the Spanish theatre ; — perhaps even 
 L p. 263 ; Fiister, Tom. I. p. 212. that tliey would be publicly acted. 
 
 12 The translation of Boscan from 15 Sedano's "Parnaso Espanol" (Tom.
 
 Chap. VllL] GEKjXI.MO IJEKMl'DEZ. 79 
 
 They are both on * the subject of Inez de * G7 
 Castro ; both are in live acts, and in various 
 verse ; and both have choruses in the manner of the 
 ancients. But there is a great difference in tlieir re- 
 spective merits. The first " Nise Lastimosa," or Inez 
 to be Compassionated, — Nise being a poor anagram of 
 Inez, — is hardly more than a skilful translation of the 
 Portuguese tragedy of "Inez de Castro," by Ferreira, 
 which, with considerable defects in its structure, is yet 
 full of tenderness and poetical beauty. The last. 
 ^' Nise Laureada," or Inez Triumphant, takes up the 
 tradition where the first left it, after the violent and 
 cruel death of the princess, and gives an account of 
 the coronation of her ghastly remains above twenty 
 years after their interment, and of the renewed mar- 
 riage of the prince to them ; — the closing scene ex- 
 hibiting the execution of her murderers with a coarse- 
 ness, both in the incidents and in the language, as re- 
 volting as can well be conceived. Neither probably 
 produced any perceptible effect on the Spanish drama ; 
 and yet the " Nise Lastimosa " contains passages of no 
 little poetical merit; such as the beautiful chorus on 
 Love at the end of the first act, the dream of Inez in 
 the third, arid the truly Greek dialogue between the 
 princess and the women of Coimbra ; for the last two 
 
 VI., 1772) contains both the dramas of esthig that thoy "will lose sleep by 
 Berniudez, with notices of his life. it." Being a Galician, he hints, in the 
 I think we have nothing else of Ber- Dedication of his "Nise La.stiniosa," 
 mudez, except his " Hesperodia," a that Castilian was not easy to him. I 
 panegyric on the great Duke of Alva, find, however, no traces of awkward- 
 written in 1589, after its author had ness in his manner, and his Gallego 
 travelled much, as he says, in Frances helped him in managing Fei'reini's Por- 
 and Africa. It is a cold elegy, origi- tugaese. The two tragedies, it should 
 iially composed in Latin, and not be noted, were published under the as- 
 printed till it appeared in Sedano, Par- sumed name of Antonio de Silva ; — 
 naso (Tom. VII., 1773, p. 149). Parts perliaps because he was a Dominican 
 of it ar* somewhat obscure ; and of the monk. The volume (Madrid, Sanchez, 
 whole, tran.slated into Spani.sh to please 1577) is a mean one, and the tvjie a 
 a friend anil that friend's wife, the an- jioor sort of Italics, 
 thor trulv savs that it is not so inter-
 
 so LurEiicio LE().\Ai;i)() i)i: ai;(;e.\s()la. [I'ikkm. ii. 
 
 of which, however, Beniiiulez was directly indebted 
 to Ferreira.^*^ 
 
 Three tragedies b}^ Liipercio Leonardo de Argensola, 
 the accomphshed lyric poet, who Avill hereafter be am- 
 ply noticed, produced a much more considerable sensa- 
 tion when the}^ first appeared, though they 
 * 68 were soon afterwards * as much neglected as 
 their predecessors. He Avrote them wlien he 
 was hardly more tlian twenty years old, and they 
 w^ere acted about the year 1585. " Do \ou not re- 
 member," says the canon in Don Quixote, '■ that, a few 
 years ago, there were represented in Spain three trage- 
 dies composed hy a flimous poet of these kingdoms, 
 which were such that they delighted and astonished 
 all who heard them ; the ignorant as well as the judi- 
 cious, the multitude as well as the few ; and that these 
 three alone brought more profit to the actors than the 
 thirty best phiys that liave been written since?" — ''No- 
 doubt," replied the manager of the theatre, w^ith whom 
 the canon was conversing, — "no doubt you mean the 
 ' Isabehi,' the ' Philis,' and the 'Alexandra.' " ^" 
 
 This statement of Cervantes is certainly extraordi- 
 nary, and the more so from being put into the month 
 of the wise canon of Toledo. But, notwithstanding 
 the flush of immediate success which it implies, all 
 trace of these plays was soon so completely lost that,, 
 for a long period, the name ol' the famous ])()et Cer- 
 vantes had referred to was not known, and it was even 
 suspected that lie liad intended to comphment himself. 
 At last, between 1700 and 1770, two of them — the 
 "Alexandra" and " IsabeLa " — were accidentally dis- 
 
 IG 'phc "Castro" of Antonio FiTiciia, ]-Jino, 'I'uin. II. pp. 123, etc). Its au- 
 
 onc of the most jinii! ami beautiful com- tiior died of the pla<(ue at Li.sbon, ii; 
 
 jiositioiis in the Portugue.se language, is If)*)!), only forty-one years old. 
 
 found in his "Poema.s" (Lisboa, 1771, ^" Don (Quixote, Parte 1. e. 48.
 
 ViiAi'. VI] 1. J LUPEIICIO LlX).\Ai;l)0 DE AKCENSOLA. 81 
 
 covered, and all douht roased. Tlioy were found to be 
 the work of Lupereio Jjeonardo de Argensola."* 
 
 But, unlia])|)ily, they quite failed to satisfy the ex- 
 pectations that had been excited by the good-natured 
 praise of Cervantes. They are in various verse, fluent 
 and f)i^ii'e ; and were intended to be imitations of the 
 Greek style of tragedy, called forth, pei'haps, by the 
 recent attempts of I5«rmudez. Each, however, is di- 
 vided into three acts ; and the choruses, origi- 
 nally prepared for them, are * omitted. The *' 69 
 Alexandra is the worse of the two. Its scene 
 is laid in Egypt ; and the story, which is fictitious, is 
 full of loathsome horrors. Every one of its person- 
 ages, except perhaps a messenger, perishes in the 
 course of the action ; children's heads are cut off and 
 thrown at their parents on the stage ; and the f;ilse 
 queen, after being invited to wash her hands in the 
 blood of the person to whom she was unworthily at- 
 tached, bites off her own tongue, and spits it at her 
 monstrous husband. Treason and rebellion form the 
 lights in a picture composed mainly of such atrocities. 
 
 The Isabela is better ; but still is not to be praised. 
 The story relates to one of the early Moorish Kings of 
 Saragossa, who exiles the Christians from his kingdom 
 in a vain attempt to oljtain possession of Isabela, a 
 Christian maiden with whom he is desperately in love, 
 but who is herself already attached to a noble Moor 
 whom she has converted, and with whom, at last, she 
 
 1^ They first appeared in Scilauo's they were deposited by the heir of L. 
 " Paruaso Espanol," Tom. VI., 1772. Leonardo de Argensola. They are said 
 All the needful explanations about them to eontaiu a better text than the MSS. 
 are in Sedano, Moratin, and Martinez used by Sedano, and ought, therefore, 
 de la Rosa. The " Philis" has not been for the honor of the author, to be in- 
 found. The MS. originals of the two quired after. Sebastian de Latre, En- 
 published plays were, in 1772, in tlie sayo sobre el Teatro Espahol, folio, 
 Archives of the " Escuelas Pias " of the 1773, Prologo. 
 citj' of Ballwstro, in Aragon, where 
 
 vol.. 11. 6
 
 82 LUPERCIO LEOXAKDO DE ARGEXSOLA. [Peuiod II. 
 
 suffers a triumphant inartyrdom. Tlie incidents are 
 numerous, and sometimes well imagined; but no dra- 
 matic skill is shown in their management and combina- 
 tion, and there is little easy or livinij: dialo^aie to u-ive 
 them effect. Like the Alexandra, it is full of horrors. 
 The nine most prominent personages it represents 
 come to an untimely end, and the bodies, or at least 
 the heads, of most of them are CKliibited on the stage, 
 thouo:h some reluctance is shown, at the conclusion, 
 about committing a supernumerary suicide before the 
 audience. Fame opens the piece with a prologue, in 
 which complaints are made of the low state of the 
 theatre: and the srhost of Isabela, who is hardly dead, 
 comes back at the end with an epilogue very Hat and 
 qttite needless. 
 
 With all this, however, a few passages of poetical 
 eloquence, rather than of absolute poetry, are scattered 
 through the long and tedious speeches of which the 
 piece is principally composed ; and once or twice there 
 is a touch of passion truly tragic, as in the discussion 
 between Isabela and her family on the threatened 
 exile and ruin of their Avhole race, and in that be- 
 tween Adulce, her lover, and Aja, the king's 
 * TO sister, who disinterestedly loves * Adulce, not- 
 withstanding she knows his passion for her fair 
 Christian riyal. But still it seems inc()iu])reliensible how 
 such a piece should have ])r()duced the jiopular dra- 
 matic effect attributed to it. unless we suppose that the 
 Spaniards had from the first a passion for theatrical exhi- 
 bitions, which, down to this period, had been so imper- 
 fectly gratified, that anything dramatic, produced under 
 favorable circumstances, was run alter aud admired.^^ 
 
 1^ Tln-n? arc several old liallads on " I'ljer eine Samiiiluiif; Spaiiisclier Ro- 
 the suliject of this play. See Wolf, iiiaiizen " (Wieii, IS.jO, jip. 33, 34);
 
 Chap. VIII. ] STATE OF THE THEATRE. 83 
 
 The dramas of Argcnsola, b\' their date, though not 
 by their character and spii-it, bring us at once within 
 the period which opens with the great and ])revalent 
 names of Cervantes and Lope de \'ega. The\', there- 
 fore, mark the extreme limits of the history of the 
 early Spanish theatre ; and if .we now look back and 
 consider its condition and character during the long 
 period we have just gone over, we shall easily come to 
 three conclusions of some consequence.-'^ 
 
 The first is, that the attempts to form and develop 
 a national drama in Spain have been few and rare. 
 During the two centuries following the first notice 
 of it, ahout 12-5U, we cannot learn distinctly that anj^- 
 thing was undertaken but rude exhibitions in panto- 
 mime ; though it is not unlikely dialogues may some- 
 times have been added, such as we find in the more 
 imperfect religious jD^geants produi^ed at the same 
 period in England and France. During the next 
 century, which brings us down to the time of Lope de 
 Kueda, we have nothing better than " Mingo Revulgo," 
 which is rather a spirited political satire than a drama, 
 Enzina's and Vicente's dramatic eclogues, and 
 Naharro's more dramatic " Propaladia," * with a * 71 
 few translations from the ancients which were 
 little noticed or known. And during the half-centiuy 
 which Lope de Rueda opened with an attempt to 
 
 but the historical trailition is in tlie Aribau, Biblioteca, Tom. II. pp. 163, 
 
 "Cronica General," Parte III. c. 22, 225, notes. The names of many such 
 
 ed. 1604, ff. 83, 84. — ])arl of them in Spanish, part in 
 
 2^ It seems probable that a consider- Latin, and ]iart in both languages, but 
 
 able number of dramas belonging to all akin to the old Mysteries and Autos 
 
 the period between Lope de Rueda and — may be found in the Spanish trnns- 
 
 Lope de Vega, or between 1560 and latioii of this History, Tom. II. pp. 
 
 1590, could even now be collected, 543-550. A con.siderable number of 
 
 who.se names have not yet been given them seem to have been represented in 
 
 to the public ; but it is not likely tliat religious houses, where, as we know, a 
 
 they would add anything important to more secular drama afterwards intruded 
 
 our knowledge of the real charact/<'r or and found much favor, 
 progress of the drama at that time.
 
 84 STATE OF THE THEATRE. [Pkiiiod II. 
 
 create a popular di'ama, Ave have obtained only a few 
 farces from himself and his followers, the little that was 
 done at Seville and A^alencia, and the countervailing 
 tragedies of Bermudez and Argensola, who intended, 
 no doubt, to follow what they considered the safer and 
 more respectable traces of the ancient Greek masters. 
 Three centuries and a half, therefore, or four centuries, 
 furnished less dramatic literature to Spain than the 
 last half-century of the same portion of time had fur- 
 nished to Franc^e and Italy ; and near the end of tlie 
 whole period, or about 1585, it is apparent that the 
 national genius was not so much turned towards the 
 drama as it was at the same period in England, where 
 Greene and Peele w^ere just preparing the way for 
 Marlowe and Shakespeare. 
 
 In the next place, the apparatus of the stage, includ- 
 ing scenery and dresses, was very imperfect. During 
 the greater part of the period we have gone over, 
 dramatic exhibitions in Spain were either religious 
 jiantomimes shown off in the churclies to the people, 
 or private entertainments given at court and in the 
 houses of the nobility. Lope de Rueda brought them 
 out into the piil)lic squares, and adapted them to the 
 comprehension, the taste, and the humors of the mul- 
 tiliide. But he had no theatre anywhere, and his 
 gay farces were represented on temporary scaffolds, by 
 his own company of strolling players, who stayed but 
 a few days at a time in even the largest cities, and 
 were sought, when there, chiefly l)y the lower classes 
 of the people. 
 
 The first notice, therefore, we have of anything 
 approaching to a regular establishment — and this is far 
 removed from what that phrase generally implies — is 
 in 1508. when an an-angement or coiuprouiise between
 
 CuAP. VIII.] STATE OF THE THEATRE. 85 
 
 the Cliurcli and the theatre was begun, traces of which 
 have subsisted at Madrid and elsewhere down to our 
 own times. Recollecting, no d()ul)t, the origin of dra- 
 matic representations in Spain for religious edification, 
 the government ordered, in form, thtit no actors 
 should make an * exhibition in Madrid, except *' 72 
 in some place to be appointed by two religious 
 brotherhoods designated in the decree, and for a rent 
 to be paid to them; — an order in which, after 1-383, 
 the general hospital of the city was included.-^ Under 
 this order, as it was originally made, we find plays 
 acted from 1508 ; but only in the open area of a court- 
 yard, corral, without roof, seats, or other apparatus, ex- 
 cept such as is humorously described by Cervantes to 
 have been packed, with all the dresses of the company, 
 in a few large sacks. 
 
 In this state things continued several years. None 
 but strolling companies of actors were known, and they 
 remained but a few days at a time even in Madrid. 
 No fixed place was prepared for their reception ; but 
 sometimes they w^ere sent by the pious brotherhoods 
 to one court-yard, and sometimes to another. They 
 acted in the daytime, on Sundays and other holidays, 
 and then only if the weather permitted a performance 
 in the open air ; — the women separated from the 
 men,^^ and the entire audience so small, that the profit 
 yielded by the exhibitions to the religious societies and 
 the hospital rose only to eight or ten dollars each 
 time.^^ At last, in 1579 and 1583, two court-yards 
 were permanently fitted up for them, belonging to 
 
 21 The two brotlievhoods wore the hy C. Pellicer in his "Ori'gen de la 
 
 Cofradia de la Sagrada Pasion, estab- Comedia en Esjiana." But they can 
 
 lished 1565, and the Cofradia de la So- he found so well nowhere else. See 
 
 ledad, established 1567. The accounts Tom. 1. pp. 43-77. 
 
 of the early beginnings of the theatre ^'^ C. Pellic'ci-, Origen, Tom. I. p. 8.3. 
 
 at Madrid are awkwardly enough given ^^ Ibid., p. 56.
 
 86 STATE OF THE THEATRE. [Pkuiod II. 
 
 houses in the streets of the ''Principe" and " Cruz." 
 Butj though a rude stage and benches were provided 
 in each, a roof was still wanting; the spectators all sat 
 in the open air, or at the windows of the house whose 
 court-yard was used for the representation ; and the 
 actors performed under a slight and poor awning, with- 
 out anything that deserved to be called scenery. Tlie 
 theatres, therefore, at Madrid, as late as 1586, could 
 not be said to be in a condition materially to further 
 any efforts that might be made to produce a respecta- 
 ble national drama. 
 
 In the last place, the pieces that had been writ- 
 ten had not the decided, common character 
 * To on which a national * drama coidd be fairly 
 founded, even if their number had been greater. 
 Juan de la Enzina's eclogues, which were the first 
 dramatic compositions rej)resented in Spain by actors 
 who were neither priests nor cavaliers, were really 
 what they were called, though somewhat modified 
 in their bucolic character by religious and political 
 feelings and events ; — two or three of Naharro's plays, 
 and several of those of Cueva, give more absolute 
 intimations of the intriguing and historical character 
 of the stao-e, though the effect of the first at home 
 was delayed, from their being for a -long time pub- 
 lished only in Italy; — the translations from the 
 ancients l)y Yillalol)os, Oliva, Abril, and others, seem 
 hardly to have been intended for repi'esentation, and 
 certainly not for popular effect ; — and Bermudez, with 
 one of his pieces stolen from the Portuguese and the 
 other full of horrors of his own, was, it is plain, little 
 thought of at his first appearance, and soon quite 
 neglected. 
 
 There were, tlieielbre, hcluic 1-jSG, only two persons
 
 CiiAi>. Vlll.] TENDENCY TO A BETTER DRAMA. 87 
 
 to whom it was possible to look lor tlie estahlisluneiit 
 of a popular and pennaiieiit drama. The hrst ot" tliem 
 was Argensola, whose three tragedies enjoyed a degree 
 of success before luiknown ; but tliey were so little in 
 the national spirit, that they were early overlooked, and 
 soon completely forgotten. The other was Lope de 
 Rueda, who, himself an actor, wrote such fsirces as he 
 found would amuse the common audiences he served^ 
 and thus created a school in which other actors, like 
 Alonso de la Vega and Cisneros, wrote the same kind 
 of farces, chiefly in prose, and intended so completely 
 for temporary effect, that hardly one of them has come 
 down to our own times. Of course, the few and rare 
 efforts made before 1586 to produce a drama in Spain 
 had been made upon such various or contradictory 
 principles, that they could not be combined so as to 
 constitute the safe foundation for a national theatre. 
 
 But, though the proper foundation was not yet laid, 
 all w^as tending to it and preparing for it. The stage, 
 rude as it was, had still the great advantage of being 
 confined to two spots, which, it is worth notice, 
 have * continued to be the sites of the two * 74 
 principal theatres of Madrid ever since. The 
 number of authors, though small, was yet sufficient to 
 create so general a taste for theatrical representations 
 that Lopez Pinciano, a learned man, and one of a tem- 
 per little likely to be pleased with a rude drama, said, 
 " When I see that Cisneros or Galvez is going to act, I 
 run all risks to hear him ; and, when I am in the the- 
 atre, winter does not freeze me, nor summer make me 
 hot." -* And finally, the public, who resorted to the 
 
 -* Philosopliia Antigua Poetica de A. ('alircni, Felipe II., Madrid, 1619, folio, 
 
 L. Pinciano, Madrid, 1596, 4to, p. 128. ]>. 470. This quarrel is a part of tlie 
 
 Cisneros was a famous actor of the time drama of Pedro Ximiniez de Aneiso 
 
 of Philip II., ahout whom Don Carlos (sie), entitled El Piineipe Don Carlos, 
 
 luid a ijuai-.el with Cardinal Kspinosa. wliei-e it i.s .set fortli in .lornada 11.
 
 88 
 
 TK.NDKNCY TO A JJKT'l'KK DIJAMA. [I'mm..). II. 
 
 imperfect entertjiiiimeiits offered tlieiii, if they had not 
 determined what kind of drama should become na- 
 tional, had yet decided that a national drama should 
 be formed, and that it should .1)6 founded on the na- 
 tional character and manners. 
 
 (Parte XXVIII. de ('oim'ilia.s de vario.s 
 automs, Huesea, 1634, f. 183, a). Ci.s- 
 nero.s Houri.shwl lo7y-ir)86. C. Pcl- 
 licer, On'gcii, Tom. I. pp. 00, 61. Lope 
 de. Vega .sjx'aks of liiiii 'vith great ad- 
 iiiiiatiou, as an actor "beyond compare 
 since i)lay.s were known." Teregrino 
 en .su I'atria, ed. 1604, f. 263. 
 
 During the period ju.st gone over — 
 that between the death of Lope de 
 Kueda and the succe.ss of Lope de Vega 
 — the traee.s of whatever regiirds the 
 theatre are to be l)est found in Mora- 
 tin'.s "Catalogo" (Obra.s, 1830, Tom. 
 I. pp. 192 - 300). lUit there were many 
 more rude efi'ort.s made than he has 
 olironicled, though none of consequcaice. 
 Gayangos, in the Spanish translation 
 of this History, (.see note 20 of this 
 chap.,) Las collected the titles of a 
 
 good many, and could, no doubt, easily 
 have collected more, if they had been 
 worth the trouble. Some of those he 
 records have been printed, but more 
 are in manuscript ; some are in Latin, 
 .some iuS[)anisli, and some in lioth lan- 
 guages ; some aie religious, and .some 
 seculai'. J\lan}' of them were pi'obably 
 i'epre.sented in religious houses, in tiie 
 colleges of the Jesuits, and in convents, 
 on occasions of ceremony, like the elec- 
 tion of a Bishoi), or the canonization of 
 a Saint. Of others no account can be 
 given. But all of them taken together 
 give no intimation of a difierent state 
 of th(^ drama from that already suiii- 
 cicaitly described. AVe see, indeed, from 
 them very plainly that it was a period 
 of change ; but we sec nothing el.se, 
 except that the change was very slow.
 
 * CHAPTER IX. *?.'> 
 
 LUIS DE LEOX. EAKLY LIFE. PERSECimONS. — THANSLATION OF THE CAX- 
 
 TICLES. XAMIiS OF CHRIST. PEKFECT WIFE AND OTHER I'ROSE WORK-^. 
 
 HIS DEATH. HIS POEilS. HIS CHARACTER. 
 
 It should not be forgotten that, while we have gone 
 over the beginnings of the Italian school and of the 
 existing theatre, we have had little occasion lo notice 
 one distinctive element of the Spanish character, 
 which is yet almost constantly present in the great 
 mass of the national literature : 1 mean the reliji-ious 
 element. A reverence for the Church, or, more prop- 
 erly, for the religion of the Church, and a deep senti- 
 ment of devotion, however mistaken in the forms it 
 wore, or in the direction it took, had been developed 
 in the old Castilian character by the wars against 
 Islamism, as much as the sy)irit of loyalty and knight- 
 hood, and had, from the first, found no less fitting 
 poetical forms of expression. That no change took 
 place in this respect in the sixteenth century, we find 
 striking proof in the character of a distinguished 
 Spaniard, who lived about twenty years later than 
 Diego de Mendoza, but one whose gentler and graver 
 genius easily took the direction which that of the elder 
 cavalier so decidedly refused. 
 
 I refer, of course, to Luis Ponce de Leon, called, 
 from his early and unbroken connection with the 
 Church, " Brother Luis de Leon," — Fray Luis de Leon. 
 He was born in Belmonte, in Lj2(S, and lived there un- 
 til he was five or six years old. when his father, wlio
 
 90 LUIS DE LEOX. [Peiiiod II. 
 
 Avas a '• king's advocate." removed his familv first to 
 Madrid, and then to Yalhidolid. The young poet's 
 advantages for education were such as were enjoyed at 
 that time only by persons whose position in society 
 was a favored one ; and, at fourteen, he was 
 * 76 sent to the neighboring * University of Sala- 
 manca, where, following the strong religious 
 tendencies of his nature, he entered a monastery of the 
 order of Saint Augustin. From this moment the final 
 direction was iriven to his life. He never ceased to be 
 a monk ; and he never ceased to be attached to the 
 University where he was bred. In 1560 he became a 
 Licentiate in Theulogy, and immediately afterwards 
 was made a Doctor of Divinity. The next year, at the 
 age of thirty-four, he obtained the chair of Saint 
 Thonuis Aquinas, which he won after a public compe- 
 tition against several opponents, four of wliom were 
 already professors ; and to these honors he added, ten 
 y^ears later, that of the chair of Sacred Literature. 
 
 By this time, however, his influence and considera- 
 tion had gathered round him a body of enemies, who 
 diligently sought means of disturbing his position.^ 
 The chief of them were either leading monks of the 
 rival order of Saint Dominick at Salamanca, with whom 
 he seems to have liad, from time to time, warm discus- 
 
 1 Obias (1(;1 Maestro Fray Luis de foniiitlalile tiiliuiial, and probably the 
 
 Leon, (Madrid, 1804-1816, 6 torn. most curious and iinj)ortant one in ex- 
 
 8vo,) Tom. v. p. 292. Hut in the istence, whether in MS. or in print, 
 
 very rich and important " Colecciou Its nniltitudinous documents fill inore 
 
 <Ie Documentos ineditos para la His- than nine humlred pages, everywhere 
 
 toria de Espana por I). iMigutd Salva y teeming with instruction and warning, 
 
 1). Pedro Sainz de liaranda" (Toinos on the subject of ecclesiastical usurpa- 
 
 X., XI., Madiid, 1847-8, 8vo) is to tions, and tlie noiseless, cold, subtle 
 
 be found the entire oHicial record of means by which they crush the intel- 
 
 the trial of Luis d(^ Leon, taken from lectual freedom and healthy culture of 
 
 the Archives of the Imiuisition at Val- a jieople. For the enmity of the Do- 
 
 hidolid, and now in tlie National Li- minicans — in who.se hands w.i.s the I n- 
 
 })rary at Madrid; — bj' far the most (jui-sition — to Luis de Leon, and for 
 
 important authentic statement knowti tne jealousy of his deieatetl competitois. 
 
 to me respecting the treatment of men .see the.se Documentos, Tom. X. p. 100, 
 
 of letters who were accu.sed before that and many other places.
 
 fiiAi'. IX. I LUIS DE I.EON. 91 
 
 sions in tlie public linlls of the University, or else 
 they were the competitors whom he had defeated 
 in open contest for the high offices he had obtained. 
 In each case the motives of his adversaries were 
 obvious. 
 
 With such persons, an opportnnity for an attack 
 would soon be found. The pretext first seized upon 
 was that he had made a translation of the Song of 
 Solomon into Castilian, treating it as if it w^ere an 
 eclogue. To this was soon added the suggestion that, 
 in his discussions in "the Schools" or public 
 halls of the University, he * had declared the * 77 
 Vulgate version of the Bible to be capable of 
 improvement. And, finally, it was intimated that 
 whde, on the one side, he had leaned to new and 
 dangerous opinions, — meaning Lutheranism, — on the 
 other side, he had shown a tendency to Jewish inter- 
 pretations of the Scriptures, in consequence of a 
 Hebrew taint in his blood, — always odious in the 
 eyes of those Spaniards who could boast that their 
 race was pure, and their descent orthodox.^ 
 
 The first formal denunciation of him was made at 
 Salamanca, before Connnissaries of the Holy Office, on 
 the seventeenth of December, 1571. But, at the out- 
 set, everything was done in the strictest secrecy, and 
 wholly without the knowledge or suspicion of the ac- 
 cused. In the course of this stage of the process, 
 about twenty witnesses were examined at Salamanca, 
 who made their statements in writing, and the testi- 
 mony of others was sent for to Granada, Valladolid, 
 Murcia, Carthagena, Arevalo, and Toledo ; so that, 
 from the beginning, the affiiir took the character it 
 preserved to the last, — that of a wide-spread con- 
 
 ■' Docunifiitos, Tom. X. i.^i. 0, 12, 19, 1-4(3-174, 207, 20S, 419-467.
 
 92 LU18 DE LEOX. [Pekiod II. 
 
 spiracy against a 23<^i'^on whom it was not safe to as- 
 sail without tlie most cautious and thorough prepara- 
 tion."' 
 
 At hist, wdien all was ready, the bolt fell. On the 
 sixth of March, 1572, he was personally sunnnoned 
 before the Tribunal of the Inquisition at Salamanca, and 
 accused of having made and circulated a vernacular 
 translation of Solomon's Song ; — the other complaints 
 being apparently left to be urged or not, as might 
 afterwards be deemed expedient. His answer — which, 
 in the official process, is technically, but most unjustly, 
 called his '• confession," when, in fact, it is his defence 
 — was instant, direct, and sincere. He avowed, with- 
 out hesitation, that he had made such a translation as 
 was imf)uted to him, but that he had made it for a nun 
 \j()m rcllfjioHci]^ to whom he had personally carried it, 
 and from whom he had personally received it back 
 
 again soon afterward ; — that, unknown to him, 
 * 78 it had subsequently * been copied by a friar 
 
 havins: charge of his cell, and so had come into 
 secret circulation ; — that he had vainl}- endeavored to 
 stop its further diffusion, by collecting the various 
 transcripts that had been thus surre^Dtitiously and 
 fraudulently made; — and that his feeble health alone 
 had hindered him from completing — what he had 
 already begun — a Latin version of the book in 
 question, with a commentary, setting forth his opinions 
 concerning it in such a way as to leave no doubt 
 of their strict orthodoxy. At the same time he de- 
 clared, by the most explicit and solemn words, his 
 unconditional submission to the authority of the Holy 
 Office, and his devout jDurpose, in all respects, and 
 
 ^ Documentos, Tum. X. \>\>. 26, 31, his translation of Solomon's Song had 
 74, 78, 81, 92. Later, tliey sent for wandered, p. 505. 
 testimony to C'uzco, in Peru, whither
 
 t-'iiAr. IX.] LUIS DE LEON. 9^ 
 
 at all times, to cherish and defend all the doctrines 
 and dogmas of the Roman Catholic Church.* 
 
 At this point in the inquiry, — and after this full 
 declaration of the accused, — if there had l)een no 
 motives for the investigation but such as were avowed, 
 the whole all'air would, no doubt, have been stopped, 
 and nothing more would have been heard of it. But 
 this was far from the case. His enemies were personal, 
 bitter, and unscrupulous ; and they had spread wide 
 the suspicion — as was done in relation to his friend 
 Arias Montano — that his great biblical learning was 
 fast leading him to heresy ; if, indeed, he were not 
 already at heart a Protestant. His examination, there- 
 fore, was pushed on with imrelenting severity. His 
 cause was removed from Salamanca to the higher 
 tribunal at Valladolid ; and, on the twenty-seventh of 
 March, 1572, he was arrested and confined in the 
 secret prisons [cwceles secret a>i'] of the Inquisition, 
 where, for a time, he was denied the use of a knife 
 to cut his food, and Avhere he at no period obtained 
 a sheet of paper or a book, except on the especial, re- 
 corded permission of the judges before whom he was 
 on trial. The other accusations, too, were now urged 
 against him by his persecutors, though, at last, none 
 were relied upon for his conviction save those regard- 
 ing the Song of Solomon and the Vulgate. 
 
 But to all the charges, and to all the insinuations 
 against him, as they were successively brought 
 up, he replied with * sincerity, distinctness, and *" 79 
 power. Above fifty times he was summoned in 
 person before his judges, and the various defences 
 which he read on these occasions, and which are still 
 
 * Docuraentos, Tom. X. p]). 9 -101. to be "a divine? pastoral ilrama." So 
 Milton, also, (Cliun^hOovcninient, Book have many others, both learned and 
 II., Introd.,) eon.siders Solomon's Song religious.
 
 '04 LUIS DE LEOX. [I'kuiud II. 
 
 extant in his own handwriting, make above two 
 hundred printed pages, — not, indeed, marked with 
 the rich eloquence which elsewhere flows so easily 
 from his pen, l)ut still written in the purest Castilian, 
 and with extraordinary acuteness and perspicacity;^ 
 
 At last, when all the resources of ecclesiastical ino;e- 
 nuity had been employed, in vain, for nearly five years, 
 to break his firm though gentle spirit, the judgment 
 of his seven judges was pronounced on the twenty- 
 eighth of September, 1570. It was a very strange 
 one. Four of their number voted that " he should be 
 put to the rack \_qiddion de tormento'j, to ascertain his 
 intentions in relation to whatever had been indicated 
 and testified against him ; Init," they added, '• that the 
 rack should be applied moderately, from regard to the 
 delicate health of the accused, and that, jifterwards, 
 further order should be taken in the case." Two more 
 of his judges were of opinion that he should be rebuked 
 in the Halls of the Holy Office, for having ventured, 
 at such a time, to move matters tending to danger and 
 scandal ; — that, in presence of all persons belonging 
 to the University, he should confess certain proposi- 
 tions gathered out of his papers to be " suspicious and 
 ambiguous"; — and, finally, that he should be forbid- 
 den from all public teaching whatsoever. One of the 
 judges asked leave to give his opinion separately; but 
 whether he ever did or not, and, if he did, whether it 
 w^as more or less severe than the opinions of his coadju- 
 tors, does not appear. 
 
 ^ In all cases of trial before tlic tri- ing them sometimes with no little se- 
 bunal of the Inquisition, though the verity for their injustice and falsehood, 
 written statements of the witnesses Throughout the trial he showed a gen- 
 might be given to the party accused, nine simplicity of heart, a careful, wise 
 their names never were. Luis de Leon logic, and an unshaken resolution, 
 had the anonymous testimony of his Documentos, Tom. X. pp. 317, 326, 
 enemies before him, and, from internal 357, 368-371, 423, 495, and other 
 evi<lence, often conjectured who tlu-j' passages, 
 were, naming them boldl)', and treat-
 
 CiiAi'. IX.] LUlb DE LEON. 95 
 
 But all of them — even the least harsh — were 
 Avholly unjustified by any proof brought against the 
 prisoner, or by anything shown in his spirit 
 during the trial. Indeed, * the lightest punish- * 80 
 ment proposed implied a complete degradation 
 and disgrace of the devout monk, while the punish- 
 ment proposed by the majority of the tribunal de- 
 manded a degree of cruelty which his feeble frame 
 could hardly have endured. Happily, he was com- 
 pelled to undergo neither sentence. The members of 
 the Supreme Council of the Inquisition at Madrid, who 
 had been repeatedly consulted on different points in 
 the trial, as it Avent on, showed their accustomed cold, 
 impassive caution in their final judgment; for they 
 passed over everything previously done in absolute 
 silence ; and, by a new and solemn decree, of Decem- 
 ber 7, 1576, decided that the accused, Luis de Leon, be 
 full}^ acquitted [absiielto de la instancia deste j'uicld], being 
 previously warned to be circumspect both how and 
 where he should discuss hereafter such matters as had 
 given rise to his trial, and to observe, m relation to 
 them, great moderation and prudence, so that all 
 scandal and occasion of error might cease ; and re- 
 quiring, furthermore, that his vernacular translation of 
 Solomon's Song should be suppressed. This final de- 
 cree having been announced to him in form, at Valla- 
 dolid, he was forthwith released from prison, not, how- 
 ever, without the customary caution to bear no ill-will 
 against any person wdiom he might suspect to have 
 testified against him, and to observe absolute secrecy 
 concerning whatever related to his trial, under pain of 
 full excommunication, and such other punishments as 
 might be deemed needful ; — to all which, b}^ his sign- 
 manual, he gave a promise of true obedience and sub-
 
 96 LUIS DE LEON. [Pkiuod 1L 
 
 mission, wliicli, there is every reason to believe, lie 
 faithfully kept.'' 
 
 Thus was ended this extraordinary and cruel trial, 
 whose minute details and discussions, spread over its 
 voluminous original documents, show — as can be 
 shown by no general statement of its course — how 
 acute, wary, and unscrupulous was the Inquisition in 
 persecutuig men of the highest gifts, and of the 
 * 81 most submissive religious * obedience, if they 
 were either obnoxious to the jealousy and ill- 
 will of its members, or suspected of discussing ques- 
 tions that might disturb the sharply defined faith 
 exacted from every subject of the Spanish crown. 
 But more and worse than this, the very loyalty with 
 which Luis de Leon Ijowed himself down before the 
 dark and unrelenting tribunal, into whose presence he 
 had been sunnnoned, — sincerely acknowledging its 
 right to all the powers it claimed, and submitting faith- 
 fully to all its decrees, — is the saddest proof that can 
 be given of- the subjugation to which intellects the 
 most lofty and cultivated had been reduced by ecclesi- 
 astical t\'ranny, and the most disheartening augury of 
 the degradation of the national character, that was 
 sure to follow. 
 
 But the University remained faithful to Luis de 
 Leon tln^ough all his trials ; — so far faithful, at least, 
 tliat his academical offices were neither filled by oth- 
 ers, nor dcclartMl vacant. As soon, therefore, as he 
 emerged from tbe cells of llic ln(|uisiti()U, he a])])eai'ed 
 again in the old halls of Salauianca; and it is a beauti- 
 ful circumstance attending his restoration, that when, 
 
 ® Dofuinontos, Toin. XI. pp. .3.01- four odiccrs of that lii,t;]i and mysti'iiows 
 
 357. Thf sentence of the Supienic trihiuial, — (tlie lii.i;lii-st in Spain,) — 
 
 Conncil of tin- Inquisition is certified Uk' secretary alone certifying it oj)enlj 
 
 by the four private marks [^rubricas] of by his name.
 
 I'UAK IX. J J.UIS I)E LEO\. 97 
 
 on the thirtieth of December, lOTG, he, rose for the 
 first time in his accustomed place before a crowded 
 audience, eager to hear what allusion he would make 
 to his persecutions, he ))egau hy simply saying, "As 
 we remarked when we last met," and then went on 
 as if the five bitter years of his imprisonment had been 
 ^i blank in his memory, bearing no record of the cruel 
 treatment he had suffered. 
 
 It seems, however, to have been thought advisable 
 that he should vindicate his reputation from the sus- 
 picions that had been cast upon it ; and, therefore, in 
 1-j80, at the request of his friends, he published an 
 extended commentary on the Canticles, interjDreting 
 each part in three different ways, — directly, symbol- 
 ically, and mystically, — and giving the whole as theo- 
 logical and obscure a character as the most orthodox 
 €ould desire, though still without concealing his opin- 
 ion that its most oljvious form is that of a pastoral 
 eclooaie." 
 
 * Another work on the same subject, but in * 82 
 Spanish, and in most respects like the one that 
 had caused his imprisonment, was also prepared by 
 him, and found among his manuscripts after his death. 
 But it was not thought advisable to print it till 1798. 
 Even then a version of the Canticles, in Spanish oc- 
 
 ■^ A Spanish poetical paraphrase of ccles secrctas at Valladolid, ho was led 
 Solomon's Song was made at about the to believe, in 1574, that Montano was 
 same time, and on the same principle, dead, though he did not die till 1.598, 
 by Arias Montano, tlie Ijiblical seliolar. twenty-four years afterwards. Now, 
 When it was first published, I do not this could hardly have occurred, strict- 
 know ; but it may be found in Faber's ly cut off" as Luis de Leon was from all 
 Floresta, No. 717; and, though it is external intercourse, except througli the 
 diffuse, parts of it are beautiful. From officers of the Lnjuisition, nor for any 
 several passages in the trial of Luis de purjiose except tliat of leading Luis de 
 Leon, it is certain that there was a Leon to compromise liis friend Montano, 
 good deal of intercourse between him wlio, as we know, escaped with ditfi- 
 and Montano, and even that they had culty from the clutches of the Holy 
 conferred together about this ])ortion of Office, who long sought grounds for de- 
 the Scriptures. It is, moreover, one stroying him. Doeumentos, Tom. XI. 
 of the significant facts in tlie trial of pp. 18, 19, 215, etc. 
 Luis de Leon that, being in tlu; car- 
 vol.. II. 7
 
 98 LUIS DE LEOX. [Pekiou II. 
 
 taves, a.s an eclogue, intended originally to accompany 
 it, was not added, and did not api)ear till 1806; — a 
 beautiful translation, which discovers, not only its 
 author's power as a poet, hut the remarkable freedom 
 of his theological inquiries, in a countrj- where such 
 freedom was, in that age, not tolerated for an instant.^ 
 The fragment of a defence of this version, or of some 
 parts of it, is dated from his prison, in 1573, and was 
 found long afterwards among the state papers of the 
 kingdom in the archives of Simancas.^ 
 
 While in prison he prepared a long prose work, 
 which he entitled '• The Names of Christ." It is a 
 singular specimen at once of Spanish theological learn- 
 ing, eloquence, and devotion. Of this, between 1583 
 and 1585, he published three books, but he never com- 
 pleted it.^*^ It is thrown into the form of a dialogue, 
 like the "Tusculan Questions," which it was probably 
 intended to imitate; and its purpose is, by means of 
 successive discussions of the character of the Saviour, 
 as set forth under the names of Son, Prince, Shepherd, 
 King, etc., to excite devout feelings in those who read 
 
 it. The form, however, is not adhered to with 
 * 83 great strictness. The * dialogue, instead of 
 
 being a discussion, is, in fact, a succession of 
 speeches; and once, at least, we have a regular ser- 
 mon, of as much merit, perhaps, as any in the lan- 
 guage ; " so that, taken together, the entire work may 
 be regarded as a series of declamations on the charac- 
 ter of Christ, as that chanicter was regarded by the 
 more devout i)ortions of the S]:)anish Church in its 
 
 * Luis (le Li-oii, «Jbias, Tom. V. ).].. in tiic v.-ision lirst, jml.litihcd in 1798. 
 
 2.58-280. A [iassap;e f Vom the oii<(in;il See bras, Tom. V. ))|). 1 - 3L 
 
 jtrose Castiliaii version of Solomon's ^ Ibid., Tom. V. jt. 28L 
 
 Song by I-uis de Jyeon is printed in Ids W Ihj,!.^ Tom. 111. and IV. 
 
 trial (Docnmentos, Tom. X. j)j). 449- " This sermon is in liook First ol 
 
 467). It did'ers, though not essential- the treatise. Obras, Tom. III. ]i\). 
 
 ly, from the same ] issagc as it stands 1(50-214.
 
 Chap. ]X.] LUIS DE LEOX. 99 
 
 tiutlior's time. Maiiv parts of it are eloquent, and its 
 eloquence has not untVe(|uently the gorgeous coloring 
 of the elder Spanish litei-ature ; such, for instance, as 
 is found in the following passage, illustrating the title 
 of Christ as the Prince of Peace, and proving the 
 beauty of all harmony in the moral world from its 
 analogies with the physical : — 
 
 "Even if reason should not prove it, and even if we 
 could in no other way understand how gracious a thing 
 is peace, yet would this fair show of the heavens over 
 our heads, and this harmony in all their manifold fires, 
 sufficiently bear witness to it. For what is it but 
 peace, or, indeed, a perfect image of jieace, that we 
 now behold, and that fills us with such deep joy ? 
 Since if peace is, as Saint Augustin, with the brevity 
 of truth, declares it to be, a quiet order, or the mainte- 
 nance of a well-regulated tranquillity in whatever 
 order demands, — then what we now witness is surely 
 its true and faithful image. For while these hosts 
 of stars, arranged and divided into their several 
 bands, shine with such surpassing splendor, and while 
 each one of their multitude inviolably maintains its 
 separate station, neither pressing into the place of 
 that next to it, nor disturbing the movements of any 
 other, nor forgetting its own ; none breaking the 
 eternal and holy law God has imposed on it; but all 
 rather bound in one brotherhood, ministering one to 
 another, and reflecting their light one to another, — 
 they do surely show forth a mutual love, and, as it 
 were, a mutual reverence, tempering each other's 
 brightness and strength into a peaceful unity and 
 power, whereby all their different influences are 
 combined into one holy and mighty harmony, uni- 
 versal and everlasting. And therefore may it be most
 
 100 LUIS DE LEON. [PEiaoD IL 
 
 * 84 truly sjiid, not *oiily that tliey clo all form a 
 fair and perfect model of peace, but that they 
 all set forth and annouuce, in clear and gracious words, 
 what excelU'ut things peace contains within herself, 
 and carries al)r()a(l whithersoever her power ex- 
 tends." ^^ 
 
 The eloquent treatise on the Names of Chi'ist was 
 not. however, the most popular of tlie prose works of 
 Ijuis de Leon. This distinction belongs to his '' Per- 
 fecta Casada," or Perfect AVife ; a treatise which he 
 comi:)osed, in the form of a commentary on some por- 
 tions of Solomon's Proverbs, for the use of a lady newly 
 married, and which was first published in 1583. ^'"^ But 
 it is not necessary specially to notice either this work, 
 or his Exposition of Job, in two volumes, accompanied 
 with a poetical version, which he began in prison for 
 his own consolation, and finished the year of his death, 
 but which none ventured to publish till 1779.^* Both 
 are marked with the same humble faith, the same 
 strong enthusiasm, and the same elaborate, rich elo- 
 ciuence, that appear, from time to time, in the work 
 on the Names of Christ ; though perhaps the last, 
 whicii received the careful corrections of its author's 
 matured genius, has a serious and settled power greater 
 
 J2 Obras, Tom. III. pp. 342, 343. with notes 6, 12, and 25.) But Luis 
 
 This beautiful passage ma_v well he tie Leon goes farther than Oliva did, 
 
 compared to his more beautiful ode, and shows how diftieult it is to write 
 
 entitled " Noche Serena," to whicii it well in S])anish. "El bieu hablar," 
 
 has an obvious resemblance. Luis de he says, "no es comuu, sino negocio 
 
 Leon, like most otlujr suceessi'ul au- de ])artieular juicio, asi en lo que se 
 
 thor.s, wrote with great care. In the dice, (;onio en la manera como se dice ; 
 
 letter to his friend Puerto Carrero, y negocio que de las palabras cpie 
 
 prefixed to the Third Book of the todos hablan, elige las que convieneu 
 
 " Nombres de Christo," he e.\-plains, y mira el sonido dellas, y aun cuenta 
 
 with not a little spirit, his reasons for a veces las letras, y las pe.se, y las niide, 
 
 writing in Sj)anish, and not in Latin, y las compone, para (|ue no solamente 
 
 which it seems liad been made matter digan con claridad lo ipie se pretende 
 
 of reproach to liim. This was in InH.^), dccir, sino tambicn con armonia y dul- 
 
 the same year that the works of Oliva cura." 
 were j)ubiished, written in .Spanish and ''' Ibid., 'I'dui. IV. 
 
 defended as such. (See rt/(/c, Cli;!]!. V. '* Ibid., TdUi. 1. and II.
 
 rnAi'. IX.] LUIS DE LEOX. lOl 
 
 than he has shown anywhere else. But tlie olmraeter- 
 isties of his pi'ose compositions — even those which 
 from their natm-e are the most strictly didactic — are 
 the same everywhere ; and tlie lieh language and 
 imagery of the passage already cited afford a fair 
 spechnen of the style towards which he constantly 
 directed his efforts. 
 
 Luis de Leon's health never recovered from the 
 shock it suffered in the cells of the Inquisition. He 
 lived, indeed, nearly fourteen 3ears after his release ; 
 but most of his works, whether in Castilian or in Latin, 
 were written before his imprisonment or during its 
 continuance, while those he undertook afterwards, 
 like his account of Santa Teresa and some others, 
 were * never finished. His life was always, from * 85 
 choice, very retired, and his austere manners 
 were announced by his habitual reserve and silence. 
 In a letter that he sent with his poems to his friend 
 Puerto Carrero, a statesman at the court of Philip the 
 Second and a member of the principal council of the 
 Inquisition, he says, that, in the kingdom of Old Castile, 
 where he had lived from his youth, he could hardly 
 claim to be familiarly acquainted with ten persons. ^^ 
 Still he was extensively known, and was held in great 
 honor. In the latter part of his life especially, his 
 talents and sufferings, his religious patience and his 
 sincere faith, had consecrated him in the eyes alike of 
 his friends and his enemies. Nothino; relatino' to the 
 monastic brotherhood of which he was a member, or to 
 the University where he taught, was undertaken with- 
 out his concurrence and support ; and when he died, 
 in 1591, he was in the exercise of a constantly increas- 
 ing influence, having just been chosen the head of his 
 
 i« ()lii;is, Tdin. VF. p. -2.
 
 102 LUIS DE LEON. [Peri-i. II. 
 
 Order, and being engaged in the preparation of new 
 regulations for its reform.^'^ 
 
 But, besides the character in which we have thus 
 far considered him, Luis de Leon was a poet, and a 
 poet of no common genius. He seems, it is true, to 
 have been httle conscious, or, at least, little careful, of 
 his poetical talent ; for. he made hardlv an effort to 
 cultivate it, and never took pains to print anything, in 
 order to prove its existence to the world. Perhaps, 
 too, he showed more deference than Avas due to the 
 opinion of many persons of his time, who thought 
 poetry an occupation not becoming one in his position ; 
 
 for, in the prefatory notice to his sacred odes, he 
 * 86 ^ia}' s, in a deprecating * tone, " Let none regard 
 
 verse as anything new and unworthy to be ap- 
 plied to Scriptural subjects, for it is rather appropriate 
 to them ; and so old is it in this application, that, from 
 the earliest ages of the Church to the present day, 
 men of great learning and holiness have thus employed 
 it. And would to God that no other poetry Avere ever 
 sounded in our ears ; that only these sacred tones were 
 sweet to us ; that none else were heard at night in 
 the streets and pul)lic squares ; that the child might 
 still lisp it, the retired damsel find in it her best solace, 
 and the industrious tradesman make it the relief of his 
 toil ! But the Christian name is now sunk to such 
 inniiodest and reckless degradation, that Ave set our 
 
 1'' The best materials for the life of Espanol, Toin. A". ; ami in the Preface 
 
 Luis do Leon, down to the end of his to a collection of his jioetry, published 
 
 trial and imprisonment in 1576, are at Valencia by Mayans y Siscar, 1761 ; 
 
 contained in his accounts of himself the last being also found in Mayans y 
 
 on that occasion (Documentos, Tom. Siscar, "Cartas de A^'arios Autores" 
 
 X. pp. 182, 257, etc.), after which a (A'alencia, 1773, 12mo, Tom. lY. pp. 
 
 {^rood deal may be found in notices of 398, etc.). Pacheco adds a descrijition 
 
 him in the curious MS. of Pacheco, of his person, and the singular fact, not 
 
 ]iubli.shed, Semanario Pintoresco, 1844, elsewhere noticed, that he amused him- 
 
 p. 374; — those in N. Antonio, Bib. self with the art of ])ainting, and suc- 
 
 Nova, adverb.; — in Sedano, Parnaso ceeded in his own portrait.
 
 Chap. IX.] LUIS DE LEON. lOo 
 
 sins to music, and, not content with indulging them in 
 secret, shout them joyfully forth to all who will listen." 
 
 But, whatever nuiy have been his own feelings on 
 the suitableness of such an occupation to his profession, 
 it is certain that, while most of the poems he has left 
 us were written in his youth, they were not collected 
 by him till the latter part of his life, and then only to 
 please a personal friend, who never thought of publish- 
 ing them ; so that they were not printed at all till 
 fortv years after his death, when Quevedo gave them 
 to the public, in the hope that they might help to 
 reform the corrupted taste of the age. But from this 
 time they have gone through many editions, though 
 still they never appeared properly collated and ar- 
 ranged till 1816.1^ 
 
 They are, however, of great value. They consist of 
 versions of all the Ecloi>:ues and two of the Georo;ics 
 of Virgil, about thirty Odes of Horace, about forty 
 Psalms, and a few passages from the Greek and Italian 
 poets ; all executed w^ith freedom and spirit, and all in 
 a genuinely Castilian style. His translations, however., 
 seem to have been only in the nature of exercises 
 and amusements. But, though he thus acquired 
 great * facility and exactness in his versifica- * 87 
 tion, he wrote little. His original poems fill no 
 more than about a hundred pages ; but there is hardly 
 a line of them which has not its value ; and the whole, 
 when taken together, are to be placed at iha head of 
 
 I'' The poems of Luis de Leon fill the his works in prose, together with the 
 
 last volume of his Works ; but there most important part of the docnioents 
 
 an; several among them that are proha- concerning his trial by the Inijuisition. 
 
 bly spurious. Per contra, a few more The volume of his |)or'try jiublished by 
 
 translations by his hand, and especial- Quevedo in 1(531 at Madrid, it maybe 
 
 ly an ode to a religious life, — A la worth notiee, was rc^jn'iiited the same 
 
 vida religiosa, — may be found in Vol. year at Milan by order of tlu; Duke of 
 
 XXXVII. of the Riblioteca de Autores Feria, Grand Chancellor there, in a 
 
 Espaholes, lSf)5, which consists of all neat duodecimo, 
 his poetical works, and a selection of
 
 104 LUIS DE LEOX. [I'kimod II. 
 
 Spanish lyilc poetry. They are chiefly rehgioiis, and 
 the source of their inspiration is not to be mistaken. 
 Luis dc Leon had a Hebrew soul, and kindles his en- 
 thusiasm almost al\va}'s from the Jewish Scriptures. 
 Still he preserved his nationality luiinipaired. Nearly 
 all the l)est of his poetical comjiositions are odes 
 written in tlie old Castilian measures, with a classical 
 purity and rigorous finish before unknown in Spanish 
 poetry, and hardly attained since. ^^ 
 
 This is eminently the case, for instance, with what 
 the Spaniards have esteemed the best of his poetical 
 works ; his ode, called '" The Prophecy of the Tagus," 
 in which the river-god predicts to Roderic the Moorish 
 conqu.est of his country, as the result of that monarch's 
 violence to Cava, the daughter of one of his principal 
 nobles. It is an imitation of the Ode of Horace in 
 which Nereus rises from the waves and predicts the 
 overthrow of Troy to Paris, who, under circumstances 
 not entirely dissimilar, is transporting the stolen wife 
 of Menelaus to the scene of the fated conflict between 
 the two nations. But the Ode of Luis de Leon is writ- 
 ten in the old Spanish qimdilla^, his favorite measure, 
 and is as natural, fresh, and flowing as one of the 
 * 88 national l)allads.^'* * Foreignei-s, however, less 
 
 1* In iioHciiiff tlie Hohrow tempera- ])ieces, generally in tlje Italian manner, 
 Trient of Luis de Leon, 1 am reminded was publislied at Rouen in France, and 
 of one of his contemporaries, who pos- dedi<'ated to t'ardiiial Richelieu, then 
 sessed in some r(!Si)ee.ts a kindred spirit, the all-powerful minister of Louis XIII. 
 and whose fate was even morc^ strange They an; full of the Litter and sOrrow- 
 and unhappy. I refer to Juan Pinto ful feedings of his exile, and parts of 
 Delgado, a I'ortuguese Jew, who lived them ai'e written, not only with tender- 
 long in Sjjain, emhraced the Christian ness, hut in a sweet and pure versifica- 
 religion, was reconverted to the faith tion. The Hebrew spirit of the authoi', 
 of his fathers, fled from the terrors of whose projjer name is Moseh Delgado, 
 the Inquisition to Fiance, and died breaks through constantly, as ndght be 
 there al)out the year T.'iftO. In 1627, expected. I>arbosa, Rililioteca, Tom. 
 a volume of his works, containing nar- II. p. 722. Amador de los Rios, Ju- 
 rative' poems on (Jueen Ksther and on dios de Espafia, Madrid, 1848, 8vo, p. 
 Ruth, free veisions from the Lamenta- 500. 
 
 tions of Jeremiah in the old 7iational '^ It is the (deventh of Luis de Leon's 
 
 quiiUiUas, and sonnets and other short Odes, and may well bear a conipaiison
 
 CiiAi'. 1\.] LUiiS DE LEON. 105 
 
 interested in wliut is so peculiarly Spanish, and so 
 full of allusions to Spanish history, may sometimes 
 ])refer the sercner ode •' On a Life of Retirement," that 
 '' On Immortality," or perhaps the still more beautiful 
 one ''On the Starry Heavens"; all written with the 
 same purity and elevation of spirit, and all in the same 
 national measure and manner. 
 
 A truer specimen of his prevalent lyrical tone, and, 
 indeed, of his tone in nuieh else of what he wrote, 
 is perhaps to be found in liis " Hymn on tlie Ascen- 
 sion." It is both very original and very natural in its 
 principal idea, being supposed to express the disap- 
 pointed feelings of the disciples as they see theit 
 Master passing out of their siglit into the opening 
 heavens above them. 
 
 And dost thou, lioly Shepherd, leave 
 
 Thine uiiin'otected flock alone. 
 Here, in this darksome vale, to grieve. 
 
 While thou as:jend'st thy glorious throne? 
 
 0, where can they their hopes now turn, 
 
 Who never lived but on thy love ? 
 Where rest the hearts for thee that burn. 
 
 When thou art lost in light above ? 
 
 How shall those eyes now find repose 
 
 That turn, in vain, thy smile to see ? 
 What can they hear save mortal woes, 
 
 Who lose thy voice's melody ? 
 
 And who shall lay his tran(|uil hand ' 
 
 Upon the troubled ocean's might ? 
 
 with that of Horace (Lib. I. Carin. 15) ri<hncss and power to that of Luis de 
 
 which suggested it. This same ode of Leon. Horace and Virgil were evi- 
 
 Horace that Luis de Leon imitated with dently the favorite Latin poets of the 
 
 such admirable success was also imitated latter. When he was immured in the 
 
 in the same way and on the same sub- secret cells of the Inquisition, and could 
 
 ject subse([uently by Franc-isco de Me- obtain books only by special written 
 
 drano, but he did it befon; the ode of jietition to the tiibunal, he asked for a 
 
 Luis de Leon had been jiublished. The single copy of each of thcni to lie brought 
 
 ode of Medrano, — beginning, " Rendi- to him from his own cell, adding, with 
 
 doelpostrer Godo," — like all his trans- characteristic simplicity, "There are 
 
 lations and imitations of Horace, is well plenty of thenj," — h'ly /mrios. Docu- 
 
 worth reading, although not equal in mcntos, Tom. X. p. 510.
 
 lUG 
 
 LUIS DE LEON. 
 
 [I'EUIUD II. 
 
 "Who hush tho wiiuls b}- his command ? 
 Who guide u.s through this staHess night ? 
 
 For Thou art gone ! — that cloud so briglit, 
 
 That bears thee from our love away, 
 Sj)i-ings upward through the dazzling light, 
 
 And leaves us here to weep and pray l-'^ 
 
 * 89 * In order, however, to comprehend aright the 
 genius and spirit of Luis de Leon, we must studj', 
 not (jnl}' his lyrical poetry, but much of his prose ; for, 
 while his religious odes and hymns, beautiful in their 
 severe exactness of style, rank him l)efbre Klopstock 
 and Filicaja, his prose, more rich and no less idiomatic, 
 places him at once among the greatest masters of 
 eloquence in his native Castilian.''^^ 
 
 ■^'' It is in quhdillas in the original ; 
 but that stanza, I tliink, can niiver, in 
 English, l)e made flowing and easy as it 
 is in Spanish. 1 have, therefore, used 
 in tliis translation a freedom greater 
 than 1 have generally permitt(id to my- 
 self, in order to ajjproaeh, if po.ssible, 
 the bold outlines of the original thought. 
 It begins thus : — 
 
 Y (lexas, pa-stor santo, 
 Tu ;?rey on cstc val'.e hoiido oscuro 
 Con soledad y Uanto, 
 
 Y tu rompiendo el puro 
 
 Ayre, te vjus al inniortal seguro 1 
 1ms aute.s hien hadado.s, 
 
 Y lo.s agora tri.ste.s y afligidos, 
 A tus peohos criado.s, 
 
 D(- ti (ie.sposeidos , 
 A do convertiran ya sn.s .sentido.'! ? 
 Ol>ras de Lui.s de Leon, Madrid, 1816, Tom. 
 ii. p. 42. 
 A translation of Luis de Leon's poems 
 
 by (". T5. Schliiter and W. Storck, Miin- 
 ster, 1853, is worth reading by those 
 who are familiar with the German. 
 The version of this ode is at p. 130, 
 and is in the ineasure of the original. 
 Another similar ver.sion of it may be 
 found in Diepenbrock's Ocistliidier l-Jlu- 
 menstraus, 1852, p. 157. 
 
 •^1 In 1837, D. Jo.se de Castro y Oroz- 
 co produced on the stage at Madrid 
 a diama, entithul " Fray Liiisde Leon," 
 in which the hero, whose name it bears, 
 is represented as renouncing tiie world 
 and entering a cloLster, in conseijuence 
 of a disap})ointnient in love. Diego de 
 Mendoza is also one of the principal 
 jiersonages in the same drama, which is 
 written in a pleasing style, and has 
 some poetical merit, notwithstanding 
 its unha])2>y subject and plot.
 
 * CHAPTEE X. 
 
 *00 
 
 CEUVAXTES. — HIS FAMILY. KDUCATION. FIRST VERSES. LIFE IN ITALY. 
 
 A SOLDIER IN THE BATTLE OF LEI'ANTO. A CAPTIVE IN ALGIERS. 
 
 RETURNS HOME. SERVICE IN PORTUGAL. LIFE IN MADRID. HIS GALA- 
 TEA, AND ITS CHARACTER. HIS MARRIAGE. WRITES FOR THE STAGE. 
 
 HIS I-IFE IN ALGIERS. HIS NUMANCIA. POETICAL TENDENCIES OF HIS 
 
 DRAMA. 
 
 The fkniily of Cervantes was originally Galician, 
 and, at the time of his birth, not only numbered five 
 hundred years of nobility and public service, bkut was 
 spread throughout Spain, and had been extended to 
 Mexico and other jDarts of America.^ The Castilian 
 
 1 Many lives of Cervantes have been 
 written, of which four need to be men- 
 tioned. 1. That of Gregorio Mayans y 
 Siscar, first prefixed to the edition of 
 Don Quixote in the original publi-shed 
 in London in 1738 (4 torn. 4to) under 
 the auspices of Lord Carteret, and af- 
 terwards to several other editions ; a 
 work of learning, and the first proper 
 attempt to collect materials for a life 
 of Cervantes, but ill arranged and ill 
 written, and of little value now, except 
 for some of its incidental discussions. 
 2. The Life of Cervantes, with the 
 Analysis of his Don Quixote, by Vi- 
 cente de los Eios, ])refixed to the sump- 
 tuous edition of Don Quixote by the 
 Spanish Academy, (Madrid, 1780, 4 torn, 
 fol.,) and often printed since ; — better 
 written than the preceding, and con- 
 taining some new facts, but with criti- 
 cisms full of pedantry and of extrava- 
 gant eulogy. 3. Noticias para la Vida 
 de Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, by 
 J. Ant. Pellicer, first printed in his 
 " Ensayo de una Biblioteca de Traduc- 
 tores," 1778, but much enlarged after- 
 wards, and prefixed to his edition of 
 Don Quixote (Madrid, 1797-1798, 5 
 tom. Svo) ; poorly digested, and con- 
 
 taining a great deal of extraneous, 
 though sometimes curious matter ; but 
 more complete than anj^ life that had 
 ji receded it. 4. Vida de Miguel de 
 Cervantes, etc., i)or D. Martin Fernan- 
 dez de Navarreti!, published b}^ the 
 Sjianish Academy (Madrid, 1819, Svo) ; 
 — the best of all, and indeed one of 
 the most judicious and best arranged 
 l)iograplucal works that have been pub- 
 lished in any country. Navariete has 
 used in it, with great eff"ect, many new 
 documents ; and especially the lai-ge 
 collection of papers found in the ar- 
 chives of the Indies at Seville, in 1808, 
 which comprehend the voluminous In- 
 formacimi sent by Cervantes himself, 
 in 1590, to Philip II., when asking for 
 an office in one of the American colo- 
 nies ; — a mass of well-authenticated 
 certificates and depositions, setting forth 
 the trials and sufl(!rings of tlie author of 
 Don Quixote, from the; time he entered 
 the service of his country, in 1571 ; 
 through his captivity in Algiers ; and, 
 in fact, till he rea,ched the Azores in 
 1582. Tliis tliorough and careful life 
 is skilfully abridged by L. Viaidot, in 
 his French translation of Don Quixote, 
 (Paris, 1836. 2 tom. Svo,) and forms
 
 108 MIGUEL DE CERVANTES SAAVEDltA. [rEuioD II. 
 
 hrnnch, wliich, in the fifteenth centnry, became 
 * 91 connected * ])y niamage with the Saavedras, 
 
 seems, early in tlie sixteenth, to have flillen off 
 in its fortunes ; and we know that the parents of 
 Miguel, who has given to the race a splendor wliich 
 has saved its old nobility from oblivion, Avere poor 
 inhabitants of Alcala de Ilenares, a small l)ut flourish- 
 ing citv. a])out twentv miles from Madrid. There he 
 wjis boi'ii, the youngest of four children, on one of the 
 early days of October, 1547.^ 
 
 No doubt, he received his early education in the 
 place of his nativity, then in the flush of its prosperity 
 and fjiiiie from the success of the University founded 
 there by Cardinal Ximenes, about fifty years before. 
 At any rate, like many other generous spirits, he has 
 taken an obvious delight in recalling the days of his 
 childhood in different parts of his works ; as in his JDon 
 Quixote, where he alludes to the luii-ial and I'licliaiit- 
 nients of the famous Moor Muzaraque on the great 
 hill of Zulema,^ just as he had proliably heard them in 
 some nursery story; and in his piodcpastonil,. "Ga- 
 latea," where he arranges the scene of some of its 
 most graceful adventures "on the banks," as he fondly 
 calls it, "of the famous Henares."^ But concerning 
 
 tlie substance of the " Life and AVritiiigs note to this passage in liis transhition 
 of Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra," hy of this history, suggests very ingenious- 
 Thomas Koseoe, Lon(h)n, 1839, ISnio. ly that Cervantes may have T>een lioru 
 
 In the notiee whieh follows in the on St. Miehael'.s day, September 29, as 
 
 text, 1 have relied for my facts on the it was common in Spain to name chil- 
 
 work of Navarrete, whenever no other dren after the Saint on \vho.se festival 
 
 authoiity is referred to ; but in tlie lit- they were born, and as the feast of St. 
 
 erary criticisms Navarrete can hardly Michael was but lecently jjassed when 
 
 afford aid, for he hardly indulges him- he was baptized, 
 
 self in them at all. '^ Don Quixote, Parte I. c. 29. 
 
 2 Th(; date of the baptism of Cervan- * "En las riberas del famoso He- 
 
 tes is October 9, l.')47 ; and as it is the nares." (Galatea, ]\Iadrid, 1784, 8vo, 
 
 practice in the Catholic Church to per- Tom. I. p. 66.) Elsewhej-e he .speaks 
 
 form this i-ite soon afterbirth, we may of " nuestro Henares"; the "/(ivwso 
 
 a-ssume, with sufficient probability, that Conijduto" (p. 121); and " mtesira 
 
 Cervantes was born on that very day, or fresco Heuares," p. 108. 
 the day preceding. But Julius, in a
 
 ^ 
 
 Chap. X] CERVANTES AT SCHOOL. 100 
 
 his youth Ave know only whnt he incidentally tells us 
 himself; — that he took great pleasure in attending 
 the theatrical representations of Lope de Rueda;'' that 
 he wrote Acrses when very young ; '' and that lie 
 alwa\s read everything * within his reach, even, * 92 
 
 . »/ O 7 7 
 
 as it should seem, the torn scraps of paper he 
 picked up in the })ublic streetsJ 
 
 It has been conjectured that he pursued his studies 
 in part at Madrid, and there is some probability, not- 
 withstanding the poverty of his fjimily, that he passed 
 two years at the U niversity of Sal amanca. But what 
 is certain is, that he obtained a public Tind decisive 
 mark of respect, Ijefore he was twenty-two years old, 
 from one of his teachers; for, in 1569, Lope de Hoyos 
 pul)lished, by autliority, on the death of the mihappy 
 Isabelle de Valois, Avife of Philip the Second, a volume 
 of verse, in which, among other contributions of his 
 pupils, are six short poems by Cervantes, whom he 
 calls his "• dear and well-beloved disciple." This was, 
 no doubt, Cervantes's first appearance in print as an 
 author; and though he gives in it little proof of 
 poetical talent, yet the affectionate words of his master 
 by which his verses were accompanied, and the circmn- 
 stance that one of his elegies was written m the name 
 of the wdiole school, show that he enjoyed the respect of 
 • his teacher and the good-will of his fellow-students.*^ 
 
 ^ Coraedias, Madrid, 1749, 4to, Tom. ote. Parte I. c. 9, cd. Clenieiicin, Ala- 
 
 I., Prologo. drid, 1833, 4to, Tom. I. j). 198,) when 
 
 '' Galatea, Tom. I. p. x, Prologo ; giving an account of his taking up the 
 
 and in the well-known fourth chapter waste jiaper at the silkmcrcer's, which, 
 of the " Viage al Parnaso," (Madrid, " as he pn^tends, turned out to be the 
 
 1784, 8vo, p. 53,) he says : — Life of Don Quixote in Arabic. 
 
 Desde mi.-? tiernos anos am^ el arte ^_ The verses of Cervantes on this oc- 
 
 Dulce de la agradable poe.sia, caslon may be found partlv in Kios, 
 
 Y en ella procur(5 siempre agradarte. " Pruebas ' de la Vida de Cervantes," 
 
 ■? " Como soy aficionado a leer aun([ue ed. Academia, Nos. 2-5, and partly in 
 
 sean los papeles rotos de las calles, lie- Navarrete, Vida, pp. 262, 2()3. They 
 
 vado desta mi natural inclinacion, tome are poor, and tlie mdy circumstance that 
 
 un cartapacio," etc., he says, (Don Quix- makes it wortli while to refer to tlieni i-;.
 
 110 CERVAXTF..S IX ITALY. [Pkkk.d h. 
 
 The next year, 1570, we find him, without any no- 
 tice of the cause, removed from all his early connec- 
 tions, and servino; at Eome as chamherlain in the 
 household of Monsignor Aquaviva, soon afterwards 
 a cardinal; the same person who had heen sent, in 
 1568, on a special mission from the Pope to 
 * 93 Philip the Second, * and who, as he seems to 
 have had a regard for literatiu"e and for men of 
 letters, may, on his return to Itid}', have taken Cer- 
 vantes with him from interest in his talents. The 
 term of service of the young man must, however, have 
 been short. Perhaps he was too much of a Spaniard, 
 and iiad too proud a spirit, to remain long in a position 
 at best very equivocal, and that, too, at a period when 
 the Avorld Avas full of solicitations to adventure and 
 military glory. 
 
 But, W'hatever may have been his motive, he soon 
 left Rome, and its court. In 1571, the Pope, Philip 
 the Second, and the state of Venice concluded what 
 was called a " Holy League " against the Turks, and 
 set on foot a joint armament, commanded by the chiv- 
 alrous Don John of Austria, a natural son of Charles 
 the Fifth. The temptations of such a romantic, as 
 well as imposing, expedition against the ancieiit oji- 
 pressor of whatever was Spanish, and the formidable 
 enemy of all Christendom, were more than Cervantes,, 
 at the age of twenty-three, could resist; and the next 
 tliino; we hear of him is, that he had volunteered in it 
 
 that Hoyos, who was a professor of ele- prove the pleasant relations in which 
 gant literature, calls Cervantes repeated- Cervantes stood with some of the pi in- 
 ly "euro discipulo," and " amado dis- cij)al poets of his day, such as Padilla, 
 cipulo " ; and says that the Elegy is Maldonado, Banos, Vague de Salas, 
 written "en nombre de <o(Zo c/ c.s/Mf^w." Hernando de Herrera, etc. Of Hoyos 
 These, with other miscellaneous poems and liis voltinic of verses curious notices 
 of Cervantes, are collected for the first may U- found in the " Disertacion His- 
 time in the first volume of the " Bil)li- torico Geogiafico, ec, de Madrid, ])or 
 oteca de Autores Espaftoles," by Aribau I). Juan Ant. Pellicer," Madrid, 1803, 
 {Madrid, 1846, 8vo, pp. 612-620) ; and 4to, pp. 108, Sipj.
 
 Chap. X.] CEKVAN'PES AT LEPAXTO. Ill 
 
 as a common soldier. For, as he says in a work writ- 
 ten just before his death, he had alwaj'S observed 
 "•'that none make better soldiers than those who are 
 transplanted from the region of letters to the fields of 
 war, and that never scholar became soldier that was 
 not a good and brave one."^ Anhnated with this 
 spirit, he entered the service of his country among 
 the troops with which Spain then filled a large piirt 
 of Italy, and continued in it till he was honorably dis- 
 charged in 1575. 
 
 During these four or five years he learned many of 
 the hardest lessons of life. He was present in the 
 sea-fight of Lepanto, October 7, 1571, and, though suf- 
 fering at the time under_ji_ifixej:v-i***^i*^te<^^ <>*^ bearing 
 his part in_that great battle, which first decisively 
 arrested the intrusion of the Turks into the 
 * West of Europe. The galley in which he * 94 
 served was in the thickest of the contest, and 
 that he did his duty to his country and to Christen- 
 dom he carried proud tuid painful proof to his grave ; 
 for, besides two other wounds, he received one which 
 deprived him of the use of his left hand and arm dur- 
 ing the rest of his life. With the other sufferers in 
 the fight, he was taken to the hospital at Messina, 
 wdiere he remained till April, 1572; and then, under 
 Marco Antonio Colonna, w^ent on the expedition to the 
 Levant, to which he alludes with so much satisfaction 
 in his dedication of the " Galatea," and which he has 
 so well described in the story of the Captive in Don 
 Quixote. 
 
 The next year, 1573, he was in the affliir of the Go- 
 
 ^ " Xo hay mejores soldados, (jue los do, que no lo fuese por estrerao," etc. 
 
 que se trasplantan de la tierra de los Persiles y Sigismuiida, Lib. III. e. 
 
 estudios en los campo.s de la gueiTa ; 10, Madrid, 1802, 8vo, Tom. II. p. 
 
 iiinguno salio de estudiante para solda- 128.
 
 112 CERVANTES A SLAVE IN ALGIEKS. [Tkimou J I. 
 
 leta at Tunis, under Don John of Austria^ and after- 
 wards, Avitli the regiment to which he was attached,^*^ 
 returned to Sicily and Italy, man}- parts of wdiich, m 
 different journeys or expeditions, he seems to have 
 visited, remaining at one time in Naples above a 
 year." -^lis period of his life, however, though 
 marked with much suffering, seems jiever to have 
 been regarded by him with regret. On the conti-ary, 
 al)ove forty years afterward, with a generous pride in 
 what he had undergone, he declared that, if the alter- 
 native were again offered him, he shoidd account his 
 w^ounds a cheap exchange for the glorj^ of having been 
 
 pi-esent in that great enterprise.^^ 
 * 95 *When he was discharged, in loTo, he took 
 
 with him letters from the Duke of 8esa and Don 
 John, connnending him earnestly to the king, and em- 
 baiked for Spain. But on the twenty-sixth of Septem- 
 ber he was captured ^'^ and carried into Algiers, where 
 he passed five years yet more disastrous and more full 
 of adventure than the five preceding. He served suc- 
 cessively three cruel masters, — a Greek and a Vene- 
 tian, both renegadoes, and the Dey, or King, himself; 
 
 1'' The rcginu'iit in which he served seiiucntly contiinu-d in the same spirit 
 
 was one of tlie most t'amoiis in the ar- by Luis de IJavia and others, 
 mies of I'hilii) II. It was the "Tercio ^^ All liis works uontaiii allusions to 
 
 de Flandes," and at the head of it was the experiences of his life, and especially 
 
 Lope de Figneroa, who acts a distin- to his travels. When he sees Naples in 
 
 gui.shed part in two of the plays of Cal- his imaginary Viage del Parnaso (c. 8, 
 
 deron, — "Amar despnesde la Mnerte," p. 126), he exclaims, — 
 and "El Alcalde de Zalaniea." Cer- Ksta ciudiul es Napoles la ilustre, 
 
 vantes probably joined this favorite Uu<! .vo pise sus ruas mas de un afio. 
 
 ri;giment again, when, as M'e shall see, ^- "Si ahora me ])ropusieran y facili- 
 
 lie engaged in the expedition to Portu- taran un imjjosible," says Cervantes, in 
 
 gal in 1581, whither we know not only reply to the coarse i)ersonalities of Avel- 
 
 that he went that year, but that the laneda, " (piisiera antes liaber me hal- 
 
 Elanders reginient went also. Of tin; lado en ai[uella faccion proiligiosa, que 
 
 affair of tln^ Goleta at Tunis a spirited sano ahora de fnis heridas, sin haberme 
 
 account is given in a little tract in the hallado en ella." Prologo a Don Quix- 
 
 liiblioteca de Autores Es]ianoles (Tom. ole, Parte Segunda, IGl.*). 
 XXL 18.'j2, P]). 4:A-i'>H), by Oonzalo ^-^ His Algerine captoj-, Arnaute, fig- 
 
 delllesca.s; — the same ])erson who pub- nres in the ballads of the time. See 
 
 lished, in 1. 574, the beginning of a very Duran, Homancero General, Tom. L 
 
 dull Pontifical History, which was sub- ])]>. xiv and 147.
 
 liiAP. X.] CKllVANTES A SLAVE IN ALGIERS. 113 
 
 the first two tonneiitliig him with that peculiar ha- 
 tred against Christians wliieh naturally helonged to 
 persons who, from unworthy motives, had joined them- 
 selves to the enemies of all Christendom; and the 
 last, the Dey, claiming him for his slave, and treat- 
 ing him with great severity, hecause he had fled 
 from his master and become formidable by a series 
 of efforts to obtain libeity for himself and his fellow- 
 captives. 
 
 Indeed, it is plain that the spirit of Cervantes, so far 
 from having been broken by his cruel captivity, had 
 been only raised and strengthened by it. On one oc- 
 casion he attempted to escape by land to Gran, a 
 Spanish settlement on the coast, but was deserted by 
 his guide and compelled to return. On another, he 
 secreted thirteen fellow-sufferers in a cave on the sea- 
 shore, where, at the constant risk of his own life, he 
 provided during many weeks for their daily wants, 
 while waiting for rescue by sea ; but at last, after he 
 iiad joined them, was basely betrayed, and then nobly 
 took the whole punishment of the conspiracy on him- 
 self. Once he sent for help to break forth by violence, 
 and his letter was intercepted ; and once he had ma- 
 tured a scheme for being rescued, with sixty of his 
 countrymen, — a scheme of which, when it was de- 
 feated by treachery, he again announced himself as 
 the only author and the willing victim. And finally, 
 he had a grand project for the insurrection of all the 
 Christian slaves in Algiers, which was, perha])s, not 
 unlikely to succeed, as their nuitiber was full twen- 
 ty-five thousand, and which was certainly so 
 * alarming to the Dey, that he declared that, * 90 
 ^' If he could but keep that lame Spaniard well 
 guarded, he should consider his capital, his slaves, and
 
 114 
 
 CEKVAXTES A tSLAVE IN ALGIERS. [Pkiuod IL 
 
 his galleys safe." ^* On each of these occasions, se- 
 vere, but not clegrading,^^ punishments Avere inflicted 
 upon him. Four times he expected instant death in 
 the awful form of impalement or of fire ; and the last 
 time a rope was absolutely put about his neck, in the 
 vain hope of extorting from a spirit so lofty the names 
 of his accomjDlices. 
 
 At last, the moment of release came. His elder 
 l)rother, who was captured with him, had Ijeen ran- 
 somed three years before ; and now his widowed 
 mother was obliged to sacrifice, for her younger son's 
 freedom, all the pittance that remained to lier in the 
 world, including the dowry of her daughters. But 
 even this was not enough ; and the remainder of the 
 poor five hundred crowns that were demanded as the 
 price of his liberty was made up partly by small bor- 
 rowings, and partly by the contributioiis~"or're- 
 * 97 ligious charity .^"^ In this way he * was ransomed 
 
 l* One of the most trustwoitliy and 
 curious sources for tliis jjart of the iife 
 of Cervantes is "La Ilistoria y Topo- 
 gratia de Argel," por D. Diego de Hae- 
 do, (Valhidolid, 1(512, folio,) in whieh 
 Cervantes is often mentioned, but which 
 seems to have been overlooked in all in- 
 (piiries relating to him, till Sarmiento 
 stumbled upon it, in 1752. It is in 
 this work that occur the; words cited in 
 the text, and wliicli ])rove how fonnida- 
 ble Cervantes had become to the Dey, 
 — " Decia Asan Ikja, Key de Argel, 
 que como el tuviese guardado al estro- 
 ])eado Espauol tenia seguros sus cris- 
 tianos, sus baxeles y aun toda la ciu- 
 dad." (f. 18,5.) And just before this, 
 referring to the bold project of Cervan- 
 tes to take the city by an insurrection 
 of the slaves, Haedo says, "Y si a su 
 animo, indu.stria, y traza.s, corresiion- 
 iliera la ventura, hoi fuera el dia, i[ue 
 Argel fuera de cristianos ; poirpie no 
 aspiraban a menos sus intentos." All 
 this, it sliould be lecollectcd, was 
 jiuVilislied four years before Cervante.s's 
 death. The whole book, including not 
 oidy the liistoiy, Imt the dialogues at 
 
 the end on the sufferings and martyr- 
 dom of the Christians in Algiers, is 
 very cuiious, and often throws a strong 
 light on passages of Spanish literature 
 in the sixteenth and seventeenth cen- 
 turies, which so often refer to tlie Moors 
 and their Christian slaves on the coasts 
 of Barbary. 
 
 15 With true Spanish ])ride, Cervan- 
 tes, when alluding to liimself in the 
 story of the Captive, (Don Quixote, 
 Parte I. c. 40,) says of the Dey, "Solo 
 libro bien con el un sohlaclo Espa- 
 nol Uaniado tal de Saavedra, al ijual 
 con haber hecho cosas que quedaran 
 en la memoria de aijuellas gentes por 
 muchosanos, y todos poralcanzar liber- 
 tad, jdmna In dio palo, ni se lo mando 
 dar, ni le dixo mala palalira, y por la 
 menor cosa de n)uchas (jue hizo, temia- 
 mos todos que habia de ser empalado, 
 y asi lo temid el vma dr. una vez." 
 
 1^ A lieautiful tribute is paid by Cer- 
 vantes, in his tale of the " Espanola 
 Inglesa," (Novelas, Madrid, 1783, 8vo, 
 Tom. I. jip. :}o8, :5.5i». ) to the zeal and 
 disinterestedness of the poor piiests and 
 monks, who went, sometimes at the
 
 Cjiap. X.] CERVANTES KETUKXS HOME. 11-3 
 
 on the ninetoontli of September, 1580, just at the 
 moment Avhen he had embarked with his master, 
 the Dey, for Constantinople, whence his rescue woukl 
 liave been all but hopeless. A short time afterward 
 he left, Algiers, where we have abundant proof that, 
 by his disinterestedness, his courage, and his fidelity, 
 he had, to an extraordinary degree, gained the affec- 
 tion aud res])ect of the multitude of Christian captives 
 with which that city of anathemas was then crowded.^' 
 But, though he was thus restored to his home and 
 his country, and though his first feelings may have 
 been as fresh and happy as those he has so eloquently 
 expressed more than once when speaking of the joys 
 of freedom,^* still it should be remembered that he re- 
 turned after an al^sence of ten years, beginning at a 
 period of life when he could hardly have taken root 
 in society, or made for himself, amidst its struggling 
 interests, a place which would not be filled almost as 
 soon as he left it. His father w\as dead. His famil}', 
 
 risk of theii- lives, to Algiers to redeevii deservcul all tlic reverence they r(;- 
 
 the Christians, and one of whom re- ceived. 
 
 mained there, giving his person in ^~ Cervantes was evidently a ]k'1'soii 
 pledge for fonr thousand ducats whiidi of great kindliness and generosity of 
 he had borrowed to send home captives. disposition ; but he never overcame a 
 Of Father Juan Gil, who effected the strong feeling of hatred against the 
 redemption of Cervantes himself from Moors, inherited from his ancestors and 
 slavery, Cervantes speaks expressly, in exasperated by his own captivity. Tliis 
 his "Trato de Argel," as feeling appears in both his ])lays, writ- 
 UnfrayleTrinitario, Christiani.simo, teil at distant periods, on the subject 
 Amigo lie hacer bien y conociao of his life in Algiers ; in the tiftv-fourth 
 Porque ha estado otra vez en esta tierra chai)ter of the second Tiart of Don C)uix- 
 Reseatando Christianos ; v di ) exemplo i • xi it -i o- • i i -i 
 De una gran Ohristiandad y gran prSdencia ; - ^^e ; m the Persi es y Mglsmunda, Lib. 
 SunombreesFrayJuauGil. III. cap. 10; and elsewhere. But ex- 
 Jornada V. cept this, and an- occasional toucii of 
 A friar of the blessed Trinity, satire against duennas, — in which C)ue- 
 A truly Christian man, known as the friend ^^^^^ ^^^^ Luis Velez de Guevara are as 
 Ofall good chanties, who once before v mw <iiiv^ x^ -> 
 
 Came to Algiers to ransom Oliristian slaves, severe as lie is, — and a little bitterness 
 
 And gave example in himself, and proof about p)rivate chaplains that exercised 
 
 Of a most wise and Chri.stian faithfulness. .^ cunning influence in the houses of the 
 His name IS Fnar Juan Gil. ^ i i ^i ■ • ii i • i 
 
 great, 1 know nothing, in all his works, 
 
 Haedo gives a similar account of Friar to impeach his universal good-nature. 
 
 Juan Gil in his "Topogratia de Argel" Sei! Don Quixote, ed. Clemencin, Vol. 
 
 (1612, ff. 144, sqrp). Indeed, not a few V. p. 260, note, and p. 138, note, 
 of the "padres de la liniosna," as they 18 For a beautiful pa.ssage on Liberty, 
 
 were called, appear to great advantage see Don Quixote, Parte if, opening of 
 
 in this interesting work, and, no doiil)t, cliaiiter 58.
 
 116 THE GALATEA. [Pkuiud II. 
 
 poor before, had been reduced to a still more bitter 
 povert}- by his own ransom and that of his brother. 
 He was imfriended and unknown, and must have suf- 
 
 fered naturally anci deeply from ar"sort~Tof-^ grief and 
 disappointment which he had felt neither as a 
 * 98 soldier nor * as a slave. It is not remarkable, 
 therefore, that he should have entered anew into 
 the service of his country, — joining his brother, prob- 
 ably in the same regiment to which he had formerly 
 belon":ed, and which was now sent to maintain the 
 Spanish authority in the newly acqiured kingdom of 
 Portugal. How Ion*;- he remained there is not certain. 
 But he was at Lisbon, and went, under the Marquis of 
 Santa Cruz, in the expedition of 1-381, as well as in 
 the more important one of the year following, to re- 
 duce the Azores, which still held out against the arms 
 of Philip the Second. From this period, therefore, we 
 are to date the full knowledge he frequently shows of 
 Portuguese literature, and that strong love for Portugal 
 which, in the third book of "Persiles and Sigismunda," 
 as well as in other parts of his works, he exhibits with 
 a kindliness and generosity remarkable in a Spaniard 
 of any age, and particularly in one of the age of 
 Philip the Second.-^'' 
 
 It is not unlikely that this circumstance had some 
 influence on the first direction of his more serious ef- 
 forts as an author, whi( h, soon after his return to Spain, 
 ended in the' pastoral romance of '' Galatea." For 
 prose pastorals have been a favorite form of fiction in 
 Portugal from the days of the '' Menina e Mo(j'a 
 
 " 20 
 
 19 " Well ilotli the .Spanish hind the difTcreiice have found at ailV tilllf for two liuiulicd 
 
 ''"""' vear.s l)('foif 
 
 'Twixt him and Lusian slave, the lowest of the -^ on'mi ^. ■ -.r .1 • 1 
 
 low";— llie "JMenina e Mo^a is tlie gi'ace- 
 
 an opinion which Cliilde Harold found ('il li"l<; fragment of a prose pastoral, by 
 
 in S].ain when lie was there, an(i ('ould IVrnanhiio h'll.cyro, which dates.from
 
 Chap. X.] THE CJALATKA. 117 
 
 down to our own times ; and had already been intro- 
 duced into Spanish literature by George of Monte- 
 mayor, a Portuguese poet of reputation, Avhose " Diana 
 Enamorada" and the continuation of it by Gil Polo 
 were, as we know, favorite books with Cervantes. 
 
 But, whatever may have been the cause, Cervantes 
 now wrote all he ever published of his Galatea, which 
 Avas licensed on the first of February, 1584, and 
 printed in the * December following. He him- * 90 
 self calls it "An Eclogue," and dedicates it, as 
 '■' the first fruits of his poor genius," ^^ to the son of 
 that Colonna under whose standard he had served, 
 twelve years before, in the Levant. It is, in fact, a 
 prose pastoral, after the manner of Gil Polo's ; and, as 
 he intimates in the Preface, " its shepherds and shep- 
 herdesses are many of them such only in their dress." ^'^ 
 Indeed, it has always been understood that .Galatea, 
 the heroine, is the lady to whom he was soon after- 
 wards married ; that he himself is Elicio, the hero ; 
 and that several of his literary friends, especially Luis 
 Barahona de Soto, whom he seems always to have 
 overrated as a poet, Francisco de Figueroa, Pedro 
 Lainez, and some others, are disguised under the 
 names of Lauso, Tirsi, Damon, and similar pastoral 
 appellations. At any rate, these personages of his 
 fable talk with so much grace and learning, that he 
 finds it necessary to apologize for their too elegant 
 discourse.^^ 
 
 about 1500, and has always been ad- of the Galatea were published as early 
 
 mired, as indeed it deserves to be. It as 1618. 
 
 gets its name from the two words with '-^'^ " Muchos de los disfrazados pas- 
 
 whieh it begins, "Small and young" ; tores della lo eran solo en el luibito." 
 a quaint circumstance, showing its ex- '-^ " Cuyas razones y argunu'ntos mas 
 
 treme popularity with those classes that i)arecen de ingenios eutre libros y las 
 
 were little in the habit of referring to aulas criados qu(i no de aquellos" que 
 
 books by their formal titles. entre pagizas cabanas son crecidos." 
 
 21 "Estas primicias de mi corto in- (Libro IV. Tomo II. p. 90.) This was 
 
 genio." Dedicatoria. Seven editions intended, no doubt, at the same time,
 
 118 THE GALATEA. [Peiiioi. II. 
 
 Like other works of the same sort, the Galatea is 
 founded on an affectjition which can never be success- 
 ful; and which, in tliis particular instance, from the 
 unwise accumulation and involution of the stories in 
 its fable, from the conceited metaphysics with which it 
 is disfigured, and from the })Oor poetry profusely scat- 
 tered through it, is more than usually imfortunate. 
 Perlia])s no one of the many pastoral tales produced in 
 Spain in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries fails 
 so much in the tone it should maintain. Yet there 
 are traces both of Cervantes's experience in life, and 
 of his talent, in different parts of it. Some of the tales, 
 like that of Sileno, in the second and third books, are 
 intere.sting ; others, like Timbrio's capture by the 
 Moors, in the fifth book, remind us of his own adven- 
 tures and sufferings ; while yet one, at least, that of 
 Rosaura and Grisaldo, in the fourth book, is quite 
 
 emancipated from pastoral conceits and fancies. 
 * 100 In all * we have passages marked with his rich 
 
 and flowing style, though never, perhaps, with 
 Avhat is most peculiar to his genius. The inartificial 
 texture of the whole, and the confusion of Christianity 
 and mythology, almost inevitable in such a A\'ork, are 
 its most obvious defects ; though nothing, perhaps, is 
 more incongruous than the representation of that 
 sturdy old soldier and formal statesman, Diego de 
 Mendoza, as a lately deceased shepherd.-^ 
 
 as a c:oin]ilini('nt to Figvieroa, etc. See ccntuiv, ami icpiodiKcd, with an a|i- 
 post, ("hap. XXXIII. note 8. jnopriate coiichision, in a prose pa.sto- 
 2* The chief actors in the Galatea lal, which, in the days when Gessner 
 visit the tomb of Mendoza, in the sixth was so ])0]iiilar, was irequently reprint- 
 hook, umler tin- ^iiidanee of a wise and ('(1. In this form it is by no means 
 gentle Christian priest ; and when there, without grace. Certainly the attempt 
 Calliope stiangdy appears to them and of Florian is more successful than a 
 jironounces a tedious poetical eulogium similar one made by Don Candido 
 on a vast number of the contemporary Maria de Tiigueros, who followed and 
 Spanish poets, most of whom are now used him in Los Knamorados o Galatea, 
 forgotten. The Galatea was aliridged ec, Madiid, 17^8. 
 bv Florian, at the end of the eighteenth
 
 f'liAP. X.] CEUVANTKS MAKIIIKI). 119 
 
 But, when speaking thus shglitingly of the Gahitea, 
 we oun'ht to remember that, though it extends to two 
 
 vohunes, it is unfinished , and that ])assages which now 
 seem out of proportion or iniintelhgible might have 
 their meaning, and might be found appropriate, if the 
 second part, which Cervantes liad perlKvps written, and 
 which he continued to talk of pubhshing till a few 
 days before his death,^^ had ever appeared. And 
 certainly, as we make up our judgment on its merits, 
 we are bound to bear in mind his own touching words,, 
 when he represents it as found by the barber and 
 curate in Boii Quixote's library.^-' ""-But what book 
 is the next one ? " said the curate. 'The Galatea of 
 Miguel de Cervantes,' replied the barber. ' This 
 Cervantes,' said the curate, ' has been a great friend of 
 mine these many years ; and I know that he is more 
 skilled in sorrows than in verse. His book is not 
 without happiness in the invention ; it proposes some- 
 thing, but finishes nothing. So we must wait for the 
 second part, which he promises ; for perhaps he will 
 then obtain the favor that is now denied him ; and, in 
 the mean time, my good gossip, keep it locked up at 
 home.' " 
 
 If the story be true that he wrote the Galatea 
 to win * the favor of his lady, his success may * 101 
 have been the reason why he was less inter- 
 ested to finish it ; for, almost immediately after the 
 appearance of the first part, he was married, Decem- 
 ber 12, 1584, to a lady of a good family in Esquivias, 
 a village near Madrid.^' The pecuniary arrangements 
 
 ^ In tlu! Dedication to " Pcisilcs y tiln(^s it is to i)r;ii.s(' its wines. Tlii' first 
 
 Sigismunda," 1616, April 19, only four is in tlu; "(Uicvadc Salanianca" (t'onie- 
 
 days before his death. <lias. 1749, Toin. II. i*. aiH), and the 
 
 '■^^ Parte Primera, cap. 6. last is in the I'lologo to " Pensiles y 
 
 " He allndes, I think, but twice in SicrisTniindn," tliou-jrli in the latter he 
 
 all his work.s to Ks(iuivias ; and both sjii-aks m'so nf its " ilustres linages."
 
 120 CEUVAXTES AVHITES FOR THE STAGE. [I'kim.ii. IT. 
 
 consequent on the marriage, wliicli have heen ])u))- 
 lished,'^*^ show that hoth parties were poor; and the 
 (jahitea intimates that Cervantes had a formidable 
 Portuguese rival, who was, at ojie time, nearly success- 
 ful in winning his In-ide.-' But, whether the course of 
 his love ran smooth before marriage or not. his wed- 
 ded life, for above thirty years, seems to have been 
 haj)py ; and his widow, at her death, desired to be 
 buried by iiis side. 
 
 Jn order to sup|)ort his family, he pro])abiy lived 
 much at Madricl, wdi^r^L-we-k-nrnv he was fimiUar with 
 several contemporary poets, such as Jpan Rufo, Pedro 
 de Padilla, and others, whom, with his inherent good- 
 nature, he praises constantly in his later works, and 
 often unreasonably. From the same motive, too, and 
 ])erhaps ])artly in consequence of these intimacies, 
 lie now undertook to gain some portion of his sub- 
 sistence by authorship, turning away from the life of 
 iidventure to which he had earlier been attracted. 
 
 His first efforts in this way were for the stage, which 
 natm-ally ])resented strong inducements for one who 
 was earl>- fond of dramatic representations, and who 
 was now in serious want of such immediate profit as 
 the theatre sometimes yields. The drama, howtever, in 
 the time of Cervantes, was rude and unformed. He 
 tells us, as we have already noticed, that he had wit- 
 nessed its beginnings in the time of Lope de 
 ^102 Rueda and * Naharro,*^ which must have Ijeen 
 before he went to Italy, and when, irom his 
 <lescriptioii of its dresses and apparatus, we ])lainly see 
 
 '■** Sec tlic cimI of I'clliccr's LifV of liis fathei's will, who died while Ccr- 
 
 <;<;!• van tcs, jii'clixcd to his edition of vantes himself was a slave in Al- 
 
 Don Quixote (Tom. I. j>. ccv). Tlieie oiers. 
 
 .seems to have heen an (earlier eonnec- -'" At the end of the .sixth book, 
 
 tion between the family of Clervaiites *' I'l^iloRo al Leetov, ]>refi.\ed to Ids 
 
 and that of his bride ; for the lady's eii^ht ])lays and eight Knticmese.s, Mu- 
 
 ijiother had been named executrix of drid, 1015, 4to.
 
 C'liAi'. X.] CEltVANTE.S WHITES FOR THE STA(;E. llii 
 
 that tlie theatre was not 80 well understood and iiian- 
 a<i:ed as it is now by strolling companies and in puppet- 
 shows. From this lunnble condition, which the efforts 
 made by Bernuidez and Argensola, Virues, La Cueva, 
 and their contemporaries, had not much ameliorated, 
 Cervantes undertook to raise it ; and he succeeded so 
 lar that, thirty years afterwards, he thought his success 
 of sufficient consequence frankly to boast of it.'^^ 
 
 But it is curious to see the methods he deemed 
 it expedient to adopt for such a purpose, lie reduced, 
 he says, the number of acts from five to three ; but 
 this is a slight matter, and, though he does not seem to 
 be aware of the fact, it had been done long })etbre by 
 Avendaiio. He claims to have introduced phantasms 
 of the imagination, or allegorical personages, like War, 
 Disease, and Famine ; but, besides that Juan de la 
 Cueva had already done this, it was, at best, nothing 
 uj^ore in either of them than reviving the forms of the 
 old religious shows. And, finally, though this is not 
 one of the grounds on which he himself places his 
 dramatic merits, he seems to have endeavored in his 
 plays, as in his other works, to turn his personal 
 travels and sufferings to account, and thus, uncon- 
 sciously, became an imitator of some of those who 
 were among the earliest inventors of such represen- 
 tations in modern Europe. 
 
 But, wdth a genius like that of Cervantes, even 
 changes or attempts as crude as these were not without 
 results. He wrote, as he tells us with characteristic 
 carelessness, twenty or thirty pieces which were re- 
 ceived with applause ; — a number greater than can 
 be with certainty attributed to any preceding Spanish 
 author, and a success before quite unknown. None of 
 
 31 Adjuiita al PiUiiaso, first •iniiitcd in 1014 ; ami the Tiolugo last cited.
 
 122 THE TKATO DE ARGEL. [PKUinD II. 
 
 these pieces were printed at the time, but he has given 
 lis the names of nine of them, two of which 
 * 103 were discovered * in 1782, and printed, for 
 the first time, in 1784."'' The rest, it is to be 
 feared, are irrecoverably lost ; and among them is " La 
 Coiifusa," which, long after Lope de Vega had given 
 its iiual character to the })roper national drama, Cer- 
 vantes fondly declared was still one of the very best 
 of the class to which it belonged ; *^ a judgment which 
 the present age might perhaps confirm, if the propor- 
 tions and finish of the drama he preferred were equal 
 to the strength and originality of the two that have 
 been I'cscued. 
 
 The first of these is " El Trato de Argel," or, as he 
 elsewhere calls it, "Los Tratos de Argel," which may 
 be translated Life, or Manners, in Algiers. It is a 
 drama, slight in its plot, and so imperfect in its dia- 
 logue, that, in these respects, it is little l)cttcr than 
 .some of the old eclogues on which the earlier theatre 
 was founded. His pui'pose. indeed, seems to have been 
 simply to set before a S])anish audience such a picture 
 of the sufferings of the Christian captives at Algiers 
 as his own experience would justiiy. and such as 
 might ^vell awaken sympathy in a countrj' w liich had 
 furnished a deplorable number of the victims. He, 
 therefore, is little careful to construct a regular plot, if, 
 after all, he were aware that such a ])lot was important; 
 but instead of it he gives us a stiff and unnatui-al love- 
 story, which he thought i>'ood enouiih to be used ai-ain. 
 both in one of his later plays and in one of his tales ;'"^ 
 and then trusts the main success of the piece to its 
 episodical sketches. 
 
 *^ They arc in tlu' same voliiiin' with ** AdjuntaalParnaso, p. 139, ed. 1784. 
 
 till- " yi:if,'(; al Panuiso," Madrid, 1784, ^ In tin- " Hafios di! Argel," and tho 
 
 Svo. "Aniantc Liberal."
 
 Chap. X.j THE TILVTO DE AlIGEL. 123 
 
 Of these sketches, several are striking. First, we 
 have a scene between Cervantes himself and two of 
 his fellow-captives, in which they are jeered at as 
 slaves and Christians by tha Moors, and in wliich they 
 give an account of the niiirtyrdom in Algiers of a 
 Spanish priest, which was subsequent!}- used by Lope 
 de Vega in one of his dramas, and which was founded 
 in ffict. Next, we have the attempt of Pedro Alvarez 
 to escape to Oran, which is, no doubt, taken from the 
 similar attempt of Cervantes, and has all the 
 spirit of a drawing from life. *And, in dif- * 104 
 ferent places, we have two or three painful 
 scenes of the public sale of slaves, and especially of 
 little children, which he must often have witnessed, 
 and which again Lope de Vega thought worth borrow- 
 ing, when he had risen, as Cervantes calls it, to the 
 monarchy of the scene. ^^ The whole play is divided 
 into five Jornada s, or acts, and written in octaves, redon- 
 dUIaSy terza riuia, blank verse, and almost all the other 
 measures known to Spanish poetry ; while among the 
 persons of the drama are strangely scattered, as prom- 
 inent actors, Necessity, Opportunity, a Lion, and a 
 Demon. 
 
 ^ The "Esclavos en Argel" of Lope by Cervantes, (pp. 298-305,) is made 
 is found in his Comedias, Tom. XXV., a principal dramatic point in the third 
 ((^aragocja, 1647, 4to, pp. 231 -260,) and Jornada of Lope's play, where the exe- 
 ,shows that he borrowed much too freely cution occurs, in the most revolting 
 from the play of Cervantes, which, it form, on the stage (p. 263). The truth 
 should be remembered, had not then is, that this execution really occurred 
 been printed, so that he must have used at Algiers in 1577, while Cervantes was 
 a manuscript. The scenes of the sale there, and that he first used it and then 
 of the Christian children, (pp. 249, 250,) Lope copied from him. A full account 
 and the scenes between the same chil- of it may be found in Haedo, (Topo- 
 dren after one of them had become a gi-afia, ft". 179atol83a,)and isoneof the 
 Mohammedan, (pp. 259, 260,) as they most curious illustrations extant of the 
 stand in Lope, are taken from the cor- relations subsisting between the Span- 
 responding scenes in Cervantes (pp. iards and 'their hated enemies. The 
 316-323, and 364-366, ed. 1784). borrowings of Lope from the play of 
 Much of th(^ story, and passages in Cervantes are, however, more plain else- 
 other parts of the play, are also bor- where in his " E.sclavos de Argel " tlian 
 rowed. The martyrdom of the Valen- in the case of this shocking martyr- 
 cian priest, wliich is merely described dom.
 
 124 THE TEATO DE AIIGEL. [I'evaod U. 
 
 Yet, notwithstanding the unhappy confusion and 
 carelessness all this implies, there are passages in the 
 Trato de Argel which are highly poetical. Aurelio, 
 the hero, — who is a Christian captive affianced to 
 another captive named Sylvia, — is loved by Zara, a 
 Moorish lad}^ whose confidante, Fa'tima, makes a wild 
 incantation, in order to obtain means to secure the 
 gratification of her mistress's love ; the result of which 
 is that a demon rises and places in her power Neces- 
 sity and Opportunity. These two immaterial agencies 
 are then sent by her upon the stage, and — invisible 
 to Aurelio himself, but seen by the spectators — tempt 
 him with evil thoughts to yield to the seductions of the 
 fair unbeliever.^^ AVlien they are gone, he thus ex- 
 presses, in soliloquy, his feelings at the idea of hav- 
 ing nearly yielded : — 
 
 * 105 * Aurelio, whither goest tlioii ? Where, where, 
 
 Now tend thine erring steps ? Who guides thee on 
 Is, then, thy fear of God so small that thus, 
 To satisfy mad fantasy's desires, 
 Thou rushest headlong ? Can light and easy 
 Opportunity, with loose solicitation, 
 Persuade thee thus, and overcome thy soul. 
 Yielding thee up to love a prisoner ? 
 Is this tlie lofty thought and firm resolve 
 ' In which thou once wast rooted, to resist 
 Offence and sin, although in torments shai-j) 
 Tliy days should end and earthly martyrdom ? 
 So soon hast thou offended, to the winds 
 Thy true and loving hopes cast forth, 
 And j'ielded up thy soul to low desire ? 
 Away with such wild thoughts, of basest birth 
 And basest lineage sprung ! Such witchery 
 Of foul, unworthy love shall by a love 
 
 86 Cervantes, no .loubt, valued him- liciircspntaiulo los dos _ 
 
 If .1 • ,. • 1 ,,• , I)c su liiic'i) Oenio V nial Genio 
 
 self U])on these iinmatenal agencies; KxtcTiunncnte la lid, 
 
 and, after his time, tliey became com- Que arde interior en su pecho. 
 
 7non on the Spanish stage. Calderon, , . , ,. 
 
 ;.. v,;,. <ir<™„ 15,.,'.,,.;.^., ,l„ T«., " /r>«.r.Q His (rood and evil genius bodied forth, 
 
 in his Gran I nncipe de Fe/, (Come- ^^ ^f;^^ ^ j^j^ ^^^ ^^ ^p^,„ ^^^^^ 
 
 dias, Madrid, 1760, 4tO, lom. 111. J). The hot encounter hiiMen in his heart. 
 
 .389,) thus explains two, whom he in- 
 
 tro(luces, in words that may be applied 
 
 to those of Cervantes : —
 
 '"•VI'. X.] THE NUMANCIA. 12-J 
 
 All imrc 111' broke 1 A ClH-i.sti;\ii soul is mine, 
 And as a Christian's shall my life be marked ; — 
 Nor gifts, nor iiromises, nor cunning art, 
 Shall from the God 1 serve my spiiit turn. 
 Although the path I trace lead on to death ! ^^ 
 
 The conception of this passage, and of the scene 
 preceding- it, is certainly not dramatic, though it is 
 one of those on which, from the introduction of spirit- 
 ual agencies, Cervantes valued himself But neither 
 is it without stirring poetry. Like the rest of the 
 piece, it is a mixture of personal feelings and fancies, 
 struggling with an ignorance of the projjer principles 
 of the drama, and with the rude elements of the thea- 
 tre in its author's time. He calls the whole a Conie- 
 cUa ; but it is neither a comedy nor a tragedy. Like 
 the old Mysteries, it is rather an attempt to exhi):»it, 
 in living show, a series of unconnected incidents ; for it 
 has no properly constructed plot, and, as he honestly 
 confesses afterwards, it comes to no proper conclu- 
 sion.'^^ 
 
 The other play of Cervantes, that has reached 
 us from * this period of his life, is founded on * 106 
 the trao-ical fate of Numantia, which ha vino; re- 
 sisted the Roman arms fourteen years,^^ was reduced 
 by famine ; the Roman forces consisting of eighty 
 thousand men, and the Numantian of less than four 
 thousand, not one of whom was found alive when the 
 
 37 Aurelio, donde vas? para do nineves it worthy of him. But the inference is 
 
 ^ir^'Z-F"Z' '^"n^ ^%^'''^' not a fair one, for Cervantes <lid not 
 Con tan poco tenior de Dios te atreves . , . ..^ ' . , , 
 
 A contentartuloca fantasia? etc. \mnt his Nuniancia, and yet he cer- 
 
 Jornaday. tainly thought well of it. i). Quixote, 
 
 38 Y aqui da este trato fin, j j ^'g 
 
 Que no lo tiene e\ de Argel, <vt /< x ^ o • • <• ti,„ 
 
 " ' ** Cervantes makes Scipio say or the 
 
 is the jest with wliich he ends his other -siege, on his arrival, — 
 play on the same subject, printed thirty Diez y seis aSo.s son y ma.s pasados. 
 years after the representation of this The true length of the contest with Nu- 
 one. - Clemeucin (Notas a D. Quixote, mantia was, however, fourteen years ; 
 III. 253, 254) says Cervantes did not .and the length of the last siege four- 
 print this play liecause he did not deem teen months.
 
 126 THE XUMAXCIA. [I^;uini. 11. 
 
 conquerors entered the city.^*^ Cervantes probably 
 chose this subject in consequence of the patriotic recol- 
 lections it awakened, and still continues to awaken, in 
 the minds of his countrymen ; and, for the same rea- 
 son, he filled his drama chiefly with the public and pri- 
 vate horrors consequent on the self-devotion of the 
 Numantians. 
 
 It is divided into four Jornadm, and, like the Trato 
 de x\rgel, is written in a great variety of measures ; 
 the ancient redondilla being preferred for the more 
 active portions. Its dramatis pcvHomc are no fewer than 
 forty in number ; and among them are Spahi and the 
 River Duero, a Dead Body, War, Sickness, Famine, 
 and Fame ; the last personage speaking the Prologue. 
 The action opens with Scipio's arrival. He at once 
 reproaches the Roman army, tliat, in so long a time, 
 they had not conquered so small a l)()(lv of Spaniards, 
 — as Cervantes always patriotically calls the Nu- 
 mantians, — and then announces that they must now 
 be subdued by Famine. Spain enters as a fair ma- 
 tron, and aware of what awaits her devoted city, in- 
 vokes the Duero in two ])oetical octaves.^^ which the 
 
 river answers in person, accompanied by three 
 * 107 * of his tributary streams, but gives no hope 
 
 to Numantia, except that the Goths, the Con- 
 stable of Bourbon, and the Duke of Alva, shall one 
 
 *^ It is well to read, witll the " Xu- Q"e prestcs a mis asyK-ros lampntos 
 
 n^ncia" Of Cervantes the account Of ^'™:::,;;^s^:!r:;^ i:!:'!^^;;;;;^;' 
 
 Horus, (hplt. 11. 18,) and especially Suplicote que en nada te detengaii : 
 
 tha't in Mariana, (Lib. III. C. 6-10,) .'^i tu con tus cnntinos crecimientos 
 
 tlie latter being the proud Spanish ver- J^-^*°'*, «•''•»'' Komanos no te venga«, 
 
 . . o 1 i ( crrnao veo ya <iuauniier caniino 
 
 Slon of it. A la salud del pueblo Numantino. 
 
 *i Iiuero pentil, que, con torcida* vueltas, Jorn. I. So. 2. 
 
 IIumede<'c« irnm parte de mi seno, -i. i ii i i i i ^i ^ ii x 
 
 Ansi en tus apna« siempre vea« envueltas It should b(^ added that these two 
 
 Arenim de oro qual d Tajo ameno, oi'taves occur at the end of a somewhat 
 
 Y ansi las ninfiw fiitritiviw Kuelbix, tedious soliloiiUY of nine or ten others, 
 
 De que est i el Verde pnido V Imsque Ueno, „ii ,. i-i n ^ 4.„, 
 
 Venpm huniildes A tux .-HTua-s Claras, •'* ' of which are really octave .stanzas, 
 
 Y en ])re»itartc favor no seuu avanus, though not printed as such.
 
 CuAi. X.l THE NUMANCIA. 127 
 
 clay avenge its fate on the Romans. This ends the 
 first act. 
 
 The otlier three divisions are filled \vith tlie hor- 
 rors of the siege endured by the unhappy Nuniantians ; 
 the anticipations of their defeat ; their sacrifices and 
 prayers to avert it ; the unhallowed incantations by 
 Mhich a dead body is raised to predict the future ; 
 and the cruel sufferings to old and young, to the 
 loved and lovely, and even to the innocence of cliild- 
 hood, through which the stern fate of the city is 
 accomplished. The wliole ends with the voluntary 
 immolation of those who remained alive among the 
 starving inhabitants, and the death of a youth who 
 holds up the keys of the gates, and then, in presence 
 of the Roman general, throws himself headlong from 
 one of the towers of the city; its last self-devoted 
 victim. 
 
 In such a story there is no plot, and no proper 
 development of anything like a dramatic action. But 
 the romance of real life has rarely been exhibited on 
 the stage in such bloody extremity ; and still more 
 rarely, when thus exhibited, has there been so much 
 of poetical effect produced by individual incidents. In 
 a scene of the second act, Marquino, a magician, after 
 several vain attempts to compel a spirit to re-enter the 
 body it had just left on the battle-field, in order to 
 obtain from it a revelation of the comino; fate of 
 the city, bursts forth indignantly, and says : — 
 
 Rebellious spirit ! Back again and fill 
 The form which, but a few siiort hours ago. 
 Thyself left tenantless. 
 
 To which the spirit, re-entering the body, replies : — 
 
 Restrain the finy of thy cruel power I 
 Enough, Marqnino ! 0, enough of pain 
 I suffer ill those regions dark, below,
 
 128 THE NUMANCIA. [I'Kiiiuu II. 
 
 "Witlioiit the added tomients of thy spell! 
 Thou art deluded if thou deem'st indeed 
 That aught of earthly pleasure can repay 
 Such brief return to this most wretched world, 
 "Where, when 1 bai'ely seem to live again, 
 * 108 * With urgent speed life harshly shrinks away. 
 
 Xay, rather dost thou bring a shuddering pain ; 
 Since, on the instant, all-prevailing death 
 Triumphant reigns anew, subduing life and soul ; 
 Thus }-ielding twice the victory to my foe, 
 AVho now, with others of his grislj' crew, 
 Obedient to thy will, and stung with rage, 
 Awaits the moment when shall be fulfilled 
 Tiie knowledge thou requirest at my hand ; 
 The knowledge of Xumantia's awfid fate.*- 
 
 There is nothing of so much dignity in the incantations 
 of Marlowe's " Faustus," which Ijelong to the contempo- 
 raiy period of the English stage ; nor does even Shake- 
 speare demand from us a s^inpathy so strange with the 
 mortal head reluctantly rising to answer Macbeth's 
 guilty (jiiestion, as Cervantes makes us feel for this 
 sufiering spirit, recalled to life onlv to endure a second 
 time the pangs of dissolution. 
 
 The scenes of private and domestic affliction arising 
 from the pressure of famine are sometimes introduced 
 witli unexpected effect, especially one between a 
 mother and her child, and the following between 
 Morandro, a lover, and his mistress, Lira, whom he now 
 sees wasted by hunger, and mourning over the univer- 
 sal desolation. She turns from him to conceal her 
 sufferings, and he says, tenderly, — 
 
 Nay, Lira, haste not, liaste not thus away ; 
 But let mc feel an instant's space tlie joy 
 
 42 ^jarqiiinn. Que yii mc vii faltando presiirosa: 
 
 ., u 11 1 1 ' „, „»„ Ant<'S, imM-iiusii!' un dolor epqiiivo, 
 
 Alma rehelrto. vuelvo al aposento ^ J^^ 
 
 Que poa.. honu. ha desmupa^te. Triunfar,. .le mi vida y de ini alma ; 
 
 El Ciierpo. >Ii enemijro tendri doblada )ialma, 
 
 Tesc la fiiria del ripor violento El cual, ccm otros del escuro bando 
 
 Tuyo. Marquino, tiaste, tri(<te, baste, De los que son supetos 4 atrunrilarte, 
 
 Ijaque yo paso en la repon escura, KstJ <'on rabia en torno, a(iui csperando 
 
 Sin que tii crezras nuu* mi dcKventura. A (|uc acabe, Maniuino, de infnniiarte 
 
 Enf!.iiiast«, si piensas que recibo Del lamentable fin, del mal nefando, 
 
 Contcnto de volver 4 ertta |)enosa, Que de Numancia puedo a.«etrurdrte. 
 
 Mitiera y corta vida, que ahora vivo, Jorn. II. Sc. 2.
 
 Chap. X.] THE XUMANXIA. 129 
 
 AVliicli life can give even here, amidst grim death. 
 
 Let but mine eyes an instant's space behold 
 
 Thy beauty, and, amidst such bitter woes. 
 
 Be ghuhlened ! O my grntlc Lira 1 — thou, 
 
 Tliat dwell'st forever in sueli harmony 
 * Amidst the thoughts that throng my fantasy, *,109 
 
 That suffering gro\As gloi'ious for thy sake ; — 
 
 What ails thee, love? On what are bent thy thoughts. 
 
 Chief honor oi' mine own ? 
 Lira. 1 think, how fast 
 
 All happiness is gliding both from thee 
 
 And me ; and that, before this cruel war 
 
 Can find a close, my life must find one too. 
 Morandro. What say'st thou, love ? 
 Lira. That hunger so prevails 
 
 Within me, that it soon nmst triumph quite, 
 
 And break my life's thin thread. What wedded love 
 
 Canst thou expect from me in such extremity, — 
 
 Looking for death ])erchance in one short hour ? 
 
 With famine died my bi'other yesterday ; 
 
 With famine sank my mother ; and if still 
 
 I struggle on, 't is but my youth that bears 
 
 Me up against such rigors horrible. 
 
 But sustenance is now so many days 
 
 Withheld, that all my weakened powers 
 
 Contend in vain. 
 Morandro. Lira ! dry thy tears, 
 
 And let but mine bemoan thy bitter gi'iefs ! 
 
 For though fierce famine press thee merciless, 
 
 Of famine, while I live, thou .shalt not die. 
 
 Fosse deep and wall of strength shall be o'erleaped, 
 
 And death confronted, and yet warded off ! 
 
 The bread the bloody Roman eats to-day 
 
 Shall from his lips be torn and placed in thine ; — 
 
 My arms shall hew a passage for thy life ; — 
 
 For death is nauglit when I behold thee thus. 
 
 Food thou .shalt have, in s])ite of Roman power. 
 
 If but these hands are such as once they were. 
 Lira. Thou .speak'st, Morandro, with a loving heart ; — 
 
 But food thus bought with peril to thy life 
 
 Would lose its savor. All that thou couldst snatch 
 
 In such an onset must be small indeed. 
 
 And lather cost thy life than rescue mine. 
 
 Enjoy, then, love, thy fresh and glowing youth ! 
 
 Thy life imports the city more than mine ; 
 
 Thr a canst defend it from this cruel foe, 
 
 Wliilst I, a maiden, weak and faint at heart. 
 
 An worthless all. So, gentle love, dismiss this thought ; 
 VOL. II. y
 
 loO 
 
 THE NL'Mx^NCIA. 
 
 [I'Kiaoii II. 
 
 I taste no food bought at smli (lc;i,i!y price. 
 
 And tliough a few slioit, wi-eiched diiys thou couldst 
 
 Pi'Otect this life, still famiiie, at the last, 
 
 JIust end us all. 
 
 110 * Maraud ro. In vain tliou strivest, love, 
 
 To hinder nie the way my will :dike 
 And destiny invite and draw nif on. 
 Pray rather, therefore, to the gods above, 
 That they i-eturu me home, laden with spoils, 
 Thy sufieriugs and mine to mitigate. 
 
 Lira. Monindro, gentle friend, 0, go not foith ! 
 
 For heie before me gleams a hostile sword. 
 Red with thy blood ! 0, venture, venture not 
 Such fierce extremity, light of my life ! 
 For if the sally be A\ith dangers thick, 
 Jlore dread is the return. ''^ 
 
 <3 Hloranilro. 
 
 No Tayas tan ile corrida. 
 
 Lira ,_dexaiiH' gozar 
 
 Del bitii quo inc iniede dar 
 
 Ell la iiiiurte alffrrc vida: 
 
 Di'xa, (luo niireii uiis ojos 
 
 L'u rato tu liLrmosura, 
 
 I'ues tiiuto lui desvcntura 
 
 Se eutretioue en wis enojos. 
 
 dulcc Lira, que suenas 
 
 Contiuo en mi fantasia 
 
 Con tan suave liarniouia 
 
 Que vuelve en irloria mis penas! 
 
 Que tieiies '. (iue est s jiensando, 
 
 Gloria de mi peiisainientof 
 
 Lira. 
 I'ienpo como mi contento 
 
 Y el tuyo se va acabando, 
 
 Y no sera su homicida 
 
 El cerco de nuestra tierra, 
 Que primero que la guerra 
 Se me aeabar^ la vida. 
 
 Moranilri). 
 Que dices, bien de mi alma? 
 
 Lira. 
 Que me tiene tal la hambre, 
 Que de mi vital estambre 
 Llevar.i jiresto la iialma. 
 Que t.ilamo lias de esjierar 
 De quien est i en tal extremo. 
 Que tu ase^uro que temo 
 Ant<'s de una liora esjiirar? 
 -Mi herniaiio aver cspirj 
 De la hambre fatigado, 
 
 Y mi iiiadre ya ha acabado 
 Que la hambre la acab i. 
 
 Y si la hambre y su fucrza 
 No ha rendido mi saliid, 
 Es jiorque la juventud 
 rmitni su riffor se esfuerza. 
 I'ero como lia tantos dias 
 Que no le hu^o <lefensa, 
 No piieilen contra sn ofenBa 
 has debik'H fuerzas mias. 
 
 Moraiulro. 
 KnjuiKi, Lira, los ojos, 
 Dexa que Ins trisfes mios 
 S; viielvan corrientes rio« 
 Nacidos de tus enojos ; 
 
 Y aunque la hambre ofendida 
 'J'c tciifra tan sin eompas, 
 
 De hambre no nidiiras 
 Mientra-s yo tuviei(> vida. 
 Y^o me ofrezco de .saltar 
 El foso y el muro fiiert«, 
 
 Y entrar jior la inisina niuerte 
 Para la tu\ a (\scusar. 
 
 EI pan que el Komano toca, 
 Sin que el temor me destruya, 
 Lo quitare de la suya 
 I'ai-a ponerlo en tu boca. 
 Con mi brazo hare earrera 
 A tu vida y a mi niuerte, 
 Porque mas me mata el verte, 
 Seiiora, de e.sii manem. 
 Yo te traere de comer 
 A pesar de los Konianos, 
 Si ya son estas mis nianos 
 Las misnias que solian ser. 
 
 Lira. 
 Ilablas como enamorado, 
 Mowndro, iiei-o no es justo, 
 Que ya tome jrusto el gusto 
 Con tu peligid coni|>rado. 
 Poco ])odiM siistentarme 
 (iiial(iuier robo (|ue haras, 
 .\miqiic mas cicrto hallaras 
 Kl peiilcrte <nie panamie. 
 (lo/.i de tu mocedad 
 En fresca edad y <Tecida, 
 <iue mas importa tu vida 
 Que la mia, ^i la <iudad. 
 Tu podr.'.s bien defendella, 
 De la enemiga a.^echanza, 
 Que no la tiaca inijanza 
 Desta tjiii triste doiicella. 
 Ansi que, mi dulce amor, 
 Despiile ese ]ien.>-amiento, 
 Que yo no quier(> sustento 
 Oanado con tu sudor. 
 Que aun(|iu! jmedes alargar 
 Mi niuerte por aljru i dia, 
 Ksta hambre que po.-fia 
 En tin nos ha de aca jar. 
 
 Mnranilro. 
 En vano tralKy.-uj, Lira, 
 De impidinne este cnniino, 
 Do mi volunt.-id y signo 
 All.i me convida y lira.
 
 CiiAT. X.] THE NUMANCIA. 131 
 
 * lie persists, and, accompanied hy a fiiitliful * 111 
 friend, penetrates into the Roman camp and 
 obtains bread. In the contest lie is wounded ; but 
 still, forcing his way back to the city, by the mere 
 energy of despair, he gives to Lira the food he has 
 won, wet with his own blood, and then falls dead at 
 her feet. 
 
 A very high authority in dramatic criticism sj^ieaks 
 of the Niunancia as if it were not merely one of the 
 more distinguished efforts of the early Spanish thea- 
 tre, but one of the most striking exhibitions of mod- 
 ern poetry.*^ It is not probable that this opinion will 
 prevail. Yet the whole piece has the merit of great 
 originality, and, in several of its parts, succeeds in 
 awakenino: strouir emotions ; so that, notwithstandino- 
 
 ~ <-J 7 7 C5 
 
 the want of dramatic skill and adaptation, it may still 
 be cited as a proof of its author's high poetical talent, 
 and, in the actual conditio^ of the Spanish stage wdien 
 he wrote, as a bold and noble effort to raise it. 
 
 T.-. ro^rarAs entre tanto of it llimself ; but still COUples it with 
 
 rolr d^S ^U: S:.S" well-co.si.l.red plays of Lope de Vega, 
 
 Tu iiiiscria y mi quebranto. Gaspar ds Avila, and i raiicisco Tan-ega. 
 
 Don Quixote, Parte I. c. 48. 
 Lira. There is a very curious contract be- 
 Morandro, mi dulce amigo, tween Cervantes and Rodrigo de Osorio 
 No vayas, que se me antoja, an " Autor de Coniedias," dated at Se- 
 ^esplda rfnlmir^'^ -^le. 5 September, 1592, in which Cer- 
 No hagas esta Jornada, vantes engages to write SIX plays, tor each 
 Morandro, bien de mi vida, of which he is to receive fifty ducats, pro- 
 Q.ue si es mala la salida, vided it should be " una de las mcjores 
 Ez muy peer la tornada. , . < . i ^ i . 
 Jem. III. Sc. 1. coniedias que se han representado en Ls- 
 paiia " ; otherwise nothing. Whether 
 There is, in this scene, a tone of these jdays were ever written, or wheth- 
 geiitle, broken-hearted self-devotion on er, if they were written, they wen; the 
 the part of Lira, awakening a fierce six mentioned in the " Adjunta al Par- 
 despair in her lover, that seems to me naso" in 1614, we shall probal)ly never 
 very true to nature. The last words of know. (Nuevos Documento.s, Sevilla, 
 Lira, in the passage translated, have, I 1864, pp. 26-29.) The pcn-iod referred 
 think, much beauty in the original. to — 1592— was apparently the one 
 ** A. W. von Schlegel, Vorlesungen when he was much occupied and vexed 
 liber dramatische Kuiist und Literatur, with collecting provisions for the gov- 
 Heidelberg, 1811, Tom. II. Abt. ii. p. ernment in Andalusia, and with other 
 345. Cervantes speaks more modestly jjoor labors of a similar sort.
 
 *112 *CHAPTER XI. 
 
 CERVANTES KEGLECTED. AT SEVILLE. HIS FAILURE. — ASKS EMPLOYMENT 
 
 IN AMEKICA. AT VALLADOLIP. HIS TROUBLES. ITBLISIIES THE FIRST 
 
 PART OF DON QUIXOTE. — HE REMOVES TO MADRID. HIS LIFE THERE. 
 
 HIS RELATIONS WITH LOPE DE VEGA. HIS TALES AND THEIR CHAR- 
 ACTER. — HIS JOURNEY TO PARNASSUS, AND DEFENCE OF HIS DRAMAS. 
 
 PUBLISHES HIS PLAYS AND ENTREMESES. THEIR CHARACTER. SECOND 
 
 PART OF DON QUIXOTE. HIS DEATH. 
 
 The low coiiflition of the theatre in his time was 
 a serious misfortune to Cervantes. It prevented him 
 from obtaining, as a dramatic author, a suitable remu- 
 neration for his efforts, even though they were, as he 
 tells us, successful in winning public favor. If we add 
 to this that he was now n>arried, that one of his sis- 
 ters was dependent on him, and that he was maimed 
 in his person and a neglected man, it will not seem 
 remarkable that, after struggling on for three years 
 at Esquivias and Madrid, he found liimself obliged to 
 seek elsewhere the means of subsistence. In 1588, 
 therefore, he went to Seville, then the great mart for 
 the vast wealth coming in from America, and, as he 
 afterwards called it, " a slielter for the poor and a 
 refug-e for the unfortimate." ^ There he acted for some 
 time as one of the agents of Antonio de Guevara, a 
 royal commissary for the American fleets, and after- 
 wards as a collector of moneys due to the government 
 
 1 "Volvi'iiie ;i Si-villa," .says Bergan- 1590, l.'>92, ami 1593 is proved beyond 
 
 za, iu the "Colotiuio de los Pen-os," all peradventiiie by documents piib- 
 
 "que es am])aro de j)obres y refugio de lished at Seville in 1864, by Don Jose 
 
 de-sdichados." Novelas, Madrid, 1783, Maria A.sen.sio y Toledo, referred to in 
 
 8vo, Tom. II. 1.. 362. That Cervantes note ii of the last chapter, 
 was at Seville iu the years 1588, 1589,
 
 Chai". XL] CERVANTES AT SEVILLI-:. 133 
 
 and to private iiulividLials ; an ]iinnl)le coiKlit ion, cer- 
 tainly, and full of cares, but still one that gave 
 him the ))read he h.ul vritTTt^^o ugHr~iir~DthTn^ u r- 
 suits. 
 
 The chief advantage, perhaps, of these employ- 
 ments to a genius like that of Cervantes was, 
 that they led him to * travel much for ten years * 113 
 in different parts of Andalusia and Granada, and 
 made him familiar with life and manners in these pic- 
 turesque parts of his native country. During the latr 
 .ter portion of the time, indeed, partly owing to the 
 failure of a person to whose care he had intrusted 
 some of the moneys he had received, and partly, it is 
 to be feared, owing to his own negligence, he became 
 indebted to the government, and was imprisoned at 
 Seville, as a defaulter, for a sum so small that it seems 
 to mark a more severe degree of poverty than he had 
 yet suffered. After a strong application to the gov- 
 ernment, he was released from prison under an order 
 of December 1, 1597, when he had been confined, 
 apparently, about three months ; but the claims of the 
 public treasury on him were not adjusted in 1608, nor 
 do we know Avhat was the final result of his improvi- 
 dence in relation to them, except that he does not 
 seem to have been molested on the subject after that 
 date. 
 
 During his residence at Seville, which, with some 
 interruptions, extended from 1588 to 1598, or perhaps 
 somewhat longer, Cervantes made an ineffectual appli- 
 
 cation to the king for an appoliTtrrreiTt in America ; 
 setting forth by exact documents — which now consti- 
 tute the most valuabl^-materittlt^lbr-lus biography — 
 a general account of his adventures, services, and 
 sufferings, while a soldier in the Levant, and of the
 
 134 SHORT OCCASIOXAL POEMS. [Pf.kiodIV 
 
 miseries of his life while he was a slave in Algiers.^ 
 This was in 1590. Bnt no other than a formal answer 
 seems ever toUave been returned to the application ; 
 and tlie whole affair only leaves ns to infer the severit}- 
 
 of that distress which should induce him to 
 * 114 seek relief in exile to a colony * of which he 
 
 has elsewhere spoken as the great resort of 
 roijues.^ 
 
 As an author, his residence at Seville has left few 
 distinct traces of him. In 1595, he sent some trifling 
 verses to Saragossa, which gained one of the prizes. 
 offered at the canonization of San Jacinto;^ in 1596, 
 he wrote a sonnet in ridicule of a great display of 
 courage made in Andalusia after all danger was over 
 and the EuQ-lish had evacuated Cadiz. Avliich, mider 
 Essex, Elizabeth's favorite, they had for a short time 
 occupied;" and in 1598 he wrote another sonnet, 
 in ridicule of an unseemly uproar that took place in the 
 cathedral at Seville, from a pitiful jealousy between 
 the municipality and the Inquisition, on occasion of 
 the reliu'ious ceremonies observed there after the death 
 of Philip the Second.*' But, except these trifles, we 
 
 - This extraordinary mass of docu- ^ " Vieiulose ])ues tan falto de dine- 
 
 ments is pn^scrvcd in the " Anhivos ros y aun no con nnudios amigos, se 
 
 de las Indias," which are adniiraldy ar- acogio al reniedio a ijue otros nuichos 
 
 ranged in tJie old and Ijeautilur Ex- ^•''I'Ji'^lo'' '''^ ''^V^'^l'i ""'l^^^^ ,[^'^^'ill"] *>« 
 
 change, built by Herrera in Seville, acogcn ; que es, el pasarse a las Indias, 
 
 when Seville was the great cntrepOt be- I'efugio y aniparo de los desesperados de 
 
 tween Spain and her colonies. The Espaua, iglesia de los alzados, salvo 
 
 jjapers referred to may be found in Es- conducto de los homicidas, pala y cu- 
 
 tante, II. Cajon 5, Legajo 1, and were l)ierta de los jugadores, anagaza general 
 
 discovered V)y the venerable Cean lier- de mugeres libres, engaho comun de 
 
 mudez in 1808, who showed them to niuchos y reniedio particular de pocos." 
 
 me in 181 S. The most important of El Zeloso Estremeno, Xovelas, Tom. 
 
 them are published entire, and the rest II. p. 1. 
 
 are well abridged, in the Life of Cer- * These verses may be found in Xa- 
 
 vantes by NavaiTete (pp. 311-388). vanete, Vida, ])p. 444, 445. 
 
 Cervantes petitioned in them for one of ^ Pelli(;er, Vida, ed. Don Quixote, 
 
 four offices, —the Auditurship of New (Jladrid, 1797, 8vo, Tom. I. p. Ixxxv,', 
 
 Granada ; that of th(t galleys of Car- gives the sonnet. 
 
 thagena ; theOovernorshipof the I'rov- *^ Sedano, Parnaso Espanol, Tom. 
 
 ince of Soconu.sco ; or the place of Cor- l.X. ]). 193. In the " Viage al Parnaso," 
 
 regidor of the city of Paz. c. 4, he calls it " Honra principal de
 
 Chap. XL] CErtVANTES AT AKGAMASILLA. lo-J 
 
 know of nothing tliat he wrote, during this active 
 period of his Hfe, indess we are to assign to it some of 
 his tales, which, like the " Espanola Inglesa," are con- 
 nected with known contemporary events, or, like 
 " Rinconete y Cortadillo," savor so much of the man- 
 ners of Seville, that it seems as if they could have 
 been written nowhere else. 
 
 * Of the next period of his life, — and it is "^115 
 the imjDortant one immediately preceding the 
 publication of the First Part of Don Quixote, — we 
 know even less than of the last. A uniform tradi- 
 tion, however, declares that he was emploj^ed by the 
 Grand Prior of the Order of Saint John in La Mancha 
 to collect rents due to his monastery in the village 
 of Aro-amasilla ; that he went there on this humble 
 agency and made the attempt, but that the debtors 
 refused payment, and, after persecuting him in dif- 
 \/ ferent w^ays, ended by throwing him into prison, 
 w^here, in a spirit of indignation, he began to write 
 the Don Quixote, making his hero a native of the 
 village that tre<i?fed him so ill, and laying the scene of 
 most of the knight's earlier adventures in La Mancha. 
 But, though this is possible, and even probable, we 
 have no direct proof of it. Cervantes says, indeed, 
 
 mis escritos." But lie was mistaken, f[uence, comparinj^ Pliilip II. to Heze- 
 
 or he jested, — I rather tliink the last. kiah, who drove out heresy, and hoast- 
 
 For an account of the indecent uproar ing that, "like a Phcenix, as he was, 
 
 Cervantes ridiculed, and needful to ex- he died in the nest he had himself huilt 
 
 plain tins sonnet, see Semanario Pinto- up," — the famous Escuriai. 13ernal 
 
 resco, Madrid, 1842, p. 177, and Espi- died in 1601, anil a popular life of hiin 
 
 nosa. Hist, de Sevilla, 1627, Segunda was printed at Seville in about sixty 
 
 Parte, ff. 112-117. The principal art- doggerel quintillas, full 6f puns, and 
 
 ists of the city were employed on the very characteristic of a period in whicii 
 
 adiifalque .sacriliced in this unseemly luittbonery was often one of the means 
 
 riot, and tliey made it as magnificent as by which religion was made palatable 
 
 ]Kissible. (Stirling's Artists of Spain, to the rabble. The following is a speci- 
 
 1848, Vol. I. pp. 351, 403, 463.) The men of it : — 
 
 sermon delivered on the occa.sion by Y que el varon soberano 
 
 ^laestro Fray Juan Bernal, and printed Vm^sso Pa<ir^ s,i,it<i .w lUmo, 
 
 at Seville, l.o99, 4to, ti. 18 is not Mil rW, -<»'-. v l. h.illaron ' 
 
 without a sort ot rude laminar elo- iicchos du suv/to////« ^ja/io.
 
 136 CERVANTKS AT VALLADOLID. [Pkiikm) II. 
 
 in his Preface to the First Part, that iii.s Don Quix- 
 ote was begun in a prison;^ but this may refer to 
 his earher imprisonment at Seville, or his subsequent 
 one at Valladolid. All that is certain, therefore, is, 
 that lie had friends and relaiiotts^in La Mancha; 
 that, at some period of his life, he must have en- 
 jo^^ed an opportunity of acquiring the intimate 
 knowledge of its people, antiquities, and topography, 
 which the Don Quixote shows ; and that this could 
 hardly have happened except between the end of 
 1598, when we lose all trace of him at Seville, and 
 the beginning of 1603, when we find him established 
 at Valladolid. 
 
 To Valladolid he went, api)arently because the 
 court had been removed thither by the caprice of 
 Philip the Third and the interests of his fa- 
 "* 116 vorite, the Duke of Lerma ; * but, as every- 
 wdiere else, there, too, he was overlooked and 
 left in jDOverty. Indeed, we should hardly know he 
 was in Valladolid at all before the publication of the 
 First Part of his Don Quixote, but for two painful 
 circumstances. The first is an account, in his own 
 handwriting, for sewing done by his sister, who, hav- 
 ing sacrificed everything for his redemption from cap- 
 tivity, became dependent on him during her widow- 
 iiood, and died in his fjimily. The other is, that in 
 
 "^ " Se ciigcutho en una cdivel." which is coiniiioiily souiKlcd unicli like 
 Avellaneda .say.s the .same thing in liis "liieno.s" {irons); and, on ivferring 
 Preface, but say.s it conteniptuou.sly : to tlie original edition of Avellaneda, 
 " Pero disculpan los yenos de .su Pii- (1614,) I found the word actually .spelt 
 inera Parte en esta materia, el habf-rse "hierros," {iroiis, chahi.'i.) while the 
 e.scrito eiitte los de una carcel," etc. lai'ge Dictionary of the Academy, (1739, 
 I owe, thought that the article los in in verb " yerro,") admitting that "yer- 
 thi.s j)as.sage wiis an intimation that the ros" {faults) is sometimes spelt " hier- 
 residence of Cervantes in a jail wa.s a ro.s," settles the question. In its mild- 
 matter of reproach to him. But Sir est form, it is a poor (juibble, intended 
 Ivlmund Head — .so familiar with every- to insult l^ervantes with his misfor- 
 thing Spanish, and so acute in apjdy- tunes. There is a si)nilar \m\\ on the 
 ing his knowledge — pointed out to me word in Lope's "Dorotea," Acto III. 
 the pun on the won I "ycrros," (/«-«/<.*,) lOsc. 7.
 
 riiAP. XI.] ceiivantp:s at valladolid. 137 
 
 one of those night-brawls common among the gal- 
 lants of the Spanish court, a stranger was killed near 
 the house where Cervantes lived ; in consequence of 
 which, and of some suspicions that fell on the family, 
 he was, according to the hard provisions of the Spanish 
 law, confined Avith the other principal witnesses uAtil 
 an investigation could take place.^ 
 
 But, in the midst of poverty and embarrassments, 
 and while acting in the humble capacity of general 
 agent and amanuensis for those wTio neelled his ser- 
 vices,® Cervantes had prepared for the press the First 
 Part of his Don Quixote, which was licensed in 1604, 
 at Valladolid, and printed in 1605, at Madrid. It 
 was received with such decided favor, that, before the 
 year was out, another edition was called for at Madrid, 
 and two more elsewhere ; circumstances which, after 
 so many discouragements in other attempts to pro- 
 cure a subsistence, naturally turned his thoughts more 
 towards letters than they had been at any previous 
 period of his life. 
 
 In 1606, the court having gone back to Madrid, 
 Cervantes followed it, and there passed the remain- 
 der of his life ; changing his residence to 
 * different parts of the city at least seven * 117 
 times in the course of ten years, apparently 
 as he was driven hither and thither by his neces- 
 
 * Pellicer's Life, pp. cxvi-cxxxi. It wrote at Valladolid an account, in fifty 
 
 has been suggested, on the authority of IcaA'es (juai-to, of the fe.stivitie.s in that 
 
 a satirical sonnet attributed to (Jon- citj' on occasion of the birth of Philip 
 
 gora, that Cervantes was employed iVy IV. But, I think, he was then a per- 
 
 the Duke of Lerma to write an account son of too little note to have l)een eni- 
 
 of the festivities with which Howard, ployed for .such a work. Si'c the Span - 
 
 the English Ambassador, was welcomed i.sli tran.slation of this History, Tom. 
 
 in 1605. But the genuineness of the II. p. 5.50. 
 
 .sonnet is doubtful, and it does not .seem ^ One of the witnesses in the preced- 
 
 to me to bear the interpretation put ing criminal inquiry says that C'ervan- 
 
 upon it. (Navarrete, Vida, ]>. 45t). tes was visited by different jiersons, 
 
 D. Quixote, ed. Pellicer, 1797, Tom. I. " por ser hombre (jue escribe y tratit 
 
 p. cxv. ) It has also been suggested jiegocios." 
 that Cervautes, in the same year, 1605,
 
 138 CERVAXTES AND LOPE I)E VEGA. [Pekiod II. 
 
 sities. In 1009, he joined the brotherhood of the 
 Hoi}' Sacranient^^— one of those reHgious associations 
 which were then fasEToVTable , aTidT the same of which 
 Queve(U), Lope de Vega, and other distinguished men 
 of letters of the time, were members. About the same 
 period, too, he seems to have become known to most 
 of these persons, as well as to others of the favored 
 poets round the court, among whom, were Espinel and 
 the two Argensolas ; though wliat were his relations 
 Avith them, beyond those implied in the conmiendatory 
 verses they prefixed to each other's works, we do not 
 know. 
 
 Concerning his relations with Lope de Yega there 
 has been much discussion to little purpose. Certain it 
 is that Cervantes often praises this great literary idol 
 of his age, and that four or five times Lope stoops from 
 his pride of place and compliments Cervantes, though 
 never Ijeyond the measure of praise he bestows on 
 many whose claims were greatly inferior. But in his 
 stately flight it is plain that he soared much above the 
 author of Don Quixote, to whose highest merits he 
 seemed carefully to avoid all homage ; ^" and though 
 I find no sufficient reason to suppose their relation to 
 each other was marked by any personal jealousy or 
 ill-will, as has been sometimes supposed, yet I can find 
 no proof that it was either intimate or kindly. On 
 the contrary, when we consider the good-natiiie ol' 
 Cervantes, which made him praise to excess nearly all 
 his other literary contempoiaries, as well as the great- 
 est of them all, and when we allow for the frequency 
 of hyperbole in such i)raises at that time, which pre- 
 vented tlu'iii fiom l>eing what they would now ))e, we 
 may percei\e an occasional coolness in his manner, 
 
 1'' Lauiel tltr AjkjIo, Silva 8, where he Is praised onlij as a poet.
 
 Chap. XI. | CERVANTES AND LOPE DE VEGA. 139 
 
 when he speaks of Lope, which shows that, without 
 overrating his own merits and claims, he was not in- 
 sensi))le to the (Uflerence in their respective positions, 
 or to the injustice tow'ards himself implied by it. In- 
 deed, his whole tone, wdienever he notices Lope, 
 * seems to be marked Avith much personal dig- *118 
 nity, and to be singularly lionorable to him.^^ 
 
 11 Mo.st of tlic materials for foi'iiiing 
 a judgment on thi.s point in Cervante.s'.s 
 character are to he found in Navarrete 
 (Vida, 457-475), who maintains that 
 ( 'ervantiis and Lope were sincere friends, 
 and in Huerta (Leccion Critica, Madrid, 
 1785, ISnio, p. 43 to the end), who 
 maintains that Cervantes was an en- 
 vious rival of Lope. As I cannot adopt 
 either of these results, and think the 
 last particularly unjust, I will venture 
 to add one or two considerations. 
 
 Lope was fifteen years younger than 
 Cervantes, and was forty-three years 
 old when the First Part of the Don 
 Quixote was puhlished ; but from that 
 time till the death of Cervantes, a pe- 
 riod of eleven years, he does not, that I 
 am aware, once allude to him. The 
 five passages in tlu; immense mass of 
 Lope's works, in which alone, so far as 
 I know, he speaks of Cervantes, are, 
 — 1. In the "Dorothea," 1598, twice 
 slightly and without ])raise. 2. In the 
 Preface to his own Tales, 1621, still 
 more slightly, and even, I think, cold- 
 ly. 3. In the " Laurel de Apolo," 
 1630, wlune there are twelve lines of 
 cold punning eulogy of him, fourteen 
 years after his (hiatli. 4. In his i)lay, 
 " Kl Premio del Bien Hablar," printed 
 in Madrid, 1635, where Cervantes is 
 liarcdy mentioned (Comedias, 4to, Tom. 
 XXI. f. 162). And 5. In "Amar sin 
 Saber a Quien" (Comedias, Madrid, 
 Tom. XXII., 1635), where (Jornada 
 l)rimei-a) Leonarda, one of the princi- 
 j)al ladies, says to her maid, who had 
 just cited a ballad of Audalla and 
 Xa.rifa to her, — 
 
 Inez, take care ; your common reading is, 
 I know, the Ballad-hook ; and, after all, 
 Your case may prove, like . that of the poor 
 knight — 
 
 to which Inez replies, interrn])ting her 
 mistress, — 
 
 Don Quixote of La Mancha, if you please, — 
 May Crod Cervantes pardon 1 — was a knight 
 
 Of that wild, erriuK sort the (Chronicle 
 So uia^uities. For uie, 1 only read 
 The Lallad-book, and find myself from day 
 To day the better for it. 
 
 All this looks very reserved ; but, when 
 we add to it that there were numbei'less 
 occasions on which Lo))e could have 
 gracefully noticcnl the merit to which 
 he could never have been insensible, — 
 especially when he makes so fi'ee and 
 unjustifiable a use of Cervantes's " Trato 
 de Argel" in his own "Esclavos de 
 Argel," absolutely introducing him by 
 name on the .stage, and giving him a 
 prominent part in the action (Comedi- 
 as, Qarag0(;a, 1647, 4to, Tom. XXV. 
 ])p. 245, 251, 257, 262, 277), without 
 showing any of those kindly or respect- 
 ful feelings which it was easy ami com- 
 mon to show to friends on the Sjianish 
 stage, and which Calderon, for instance, 
 so fr(;c[uently shows to Cervantes (e. g. 
 Casa con Dos Puertas, Jorn. I., etc.), 
 — we can hardly doulit that Lojie will- 
 ingly overlooked and neglected Cer- 
 vantes, at least from the; time of the 
 appearance of the First Part of Don 
 Quixote, in 1605, till after its author's 
 death, in 1616. 
 
 On the other hand, Cervantes, from 
 the date of the " Canto de Caliope " in 
 the "Galatea," 1584, when Lope was 
 only twenty-two years old, to the date 
 of the Preface to the Second Part of 
 Don Quixote, 1615, only a year before 
 his own death, was constantly giving 
 Lope the praises due to one who, beyond 
 all contnmporar)) doubt or rivalshi]i, 
 was at the head of Si)anish literature ; 
 and, among other proofs of .such eh^ 
 vated and generous feelings, prefixed, 
 in 1598, a laudatory sonnet to Loi)e's 
 "Dragontea." But, at the same time 
 that he did this, and did it freely and 
 fully, there is a dignified reserve and 
 caution in some j)arts of his remark.s 
 about Lope that show he was not im- 
 pelled by any warm, personal regard ;
 
 140 
 
 THE NOVEL AS EXEMPLAEES. 
 
 [Peuiod II. 
 
 *119 * In 1613 he published his "Novelas Exera- 
 
 plares," Instructive or Moral Tales,^^ twelve in 
 
 number, and making one volume. Some of them were 
 
 written several years before, as was '' The Impertinent 
 
 a caution whii'h is so obvious, that 
 Avcllauctla, iu the Preface to his Don 
 Quixote, maliciously interpreted it into 
 env)'. 
 
 It therefore seems to me difficult to 
 avoid the conclusion, tliat the relations 
 between the two great Spanish authors 
 of this jieriod were such as might be 
 ex])ected, where one was, to an extraor- 
 dinary degree, the idol of his time, 
 and the other a suffering and neglected 
 man. What is most agreeable about 
 tlie wliole matter is the generous jus- 
 tice Cervantes never fails to render to 
 Lope's merits. 
 
 But, since the preceding account, 
 both in the text and note, was pub- 
 lislied, (1849,) more evidence has been 
 discovered on the .subject of the per- 
 sonal I'elations of Cervantes and Lope ; 
 — unliapjjily, such as leaves no doubt 
 of Lope's ungenerous feelings towards 
 liis great contein])orary. It is pub- 
 lished in the " NachtrJige zur Ges- 
 chichte der dramatischen Litei-atur und 
 Kunst in Spanien von A. F. von 
 Schack," (Frankfurt am Main, 1854, 
 8vo, pp. 31-34,) and consists of ex- 
 tracts, made by Duran, from autograph 
 letters of Lope, found among the papers 
 of Lope's great patron and friend, the 
 Duke de Sessa, who jiaid the (ixpenses 
 of Ids funeral, and inherite<l his manu- 
 .S(;ripts. The principal one, for the 
 })re.seiit jmrpose, is dated August 4, 
 1604, while the Don Quixote was in 
 the press ; and when reading it we 
 mu.st bear in mind that Cervantes did 
 not muclx regard tlie fashion of Ins 
 time in ])refixing laudatory .sonncds, 
 etc., of his fiiends, to his other works, 
 and, lias ridiculed it outright in the 
 jesting and satiiical ver.ses he has pre- 
 fixed to liis Don Quixote, in the names 
 of Aniadis de Oaula, Orlando Furio.so, 
 etc. Lope, under these circumstances, 
 writes to his friend the Duke : '.' Of 
 poets I speak not. Many are in th(; 
 hud for next year ; but tliere is none so 
 had as (Jcrvanlf.x, or so ibolish as to 
 praise Don Quixote," — pero niiujuno 
 }my tan main coriio Cervantes, ni tan 
 necio que alube d Don QutJMte. And 
 
 further on, speaking of satire, he says, 
 " It is a thing as hateful to me as my 
 little books are to Alniendares, and nuj 
 plays to Ccrv((ntcs." Of course there 
 can be no mistake about the feelings 
 with which such bitter words were 
 written. They are the more cruel, as 
 Cervantes was then a suffering man, 
 living in .severe poverty at Valladolid, 
 and Lope knew it. 
 
 I do not know who is hit imder the 
 name of Almendares, but suspect it is 
 a misspelling or mi.sprint of tliat of 
 Almenda/'/^, who published poor re- 
 ligious poetry in the popular style — 
 popidiiri carmine — in 1603 and 1613, 
 and is praised by Cervantes in his Viage 
 al Parnaso. 
 
 I have .said nothing here of the .son- 
 nets lirst published by Pellicer in his 
 " Biblioteca de Traductores" (Tom. I., 
 1778, jip. 170, etc.). I mean two at- 
 tributed to Cervantes and one to Lope, 
 in which those great men are made to 
 ridicule eacli other in very bad taste ; 
 — 1 have, 1 .say, not mentioned these 
 sonnets, ])artly because, even as set 
 forth by Pellicer, they have a very sus- 
 picious look, but chiefly because the 
 matter at the time was sifted by Huer- 
 ta, Forner, etc., and no doubt was left 
 that they arc spurious. See " Leccion 
 Critica," ut supra; — " Tentativa de 
 ajnovechar el merito de la Leccion 
 Critica, en defensa de Cervantes por 
 Don Placido Guerrero," (Madrid, 1785, 
 ISmo, pp. 30, ec.,) and finally, " Re- 
 flexiones sobre la Leccion Critica por 
 Tome Cecial, ec. las publica Don J. P. 
 Forner." Madrid, 1786, 18mo, pp. 
 107-123. 
 
 ^'■^ He explains in his Preface the 
 meaning he wishes to give the word 
 cxemplarcs, saying, "Heles dado nom- 
 bre de cjxmjjlares, y si bien lo miias, 
 no hay ninguna de <iuien no se puede 
 sacar alguii exeinjilo provechoso." The 
 word crcmjifo, from the time of tlie 
 Archpriest of Ilita and Don Juan Man- 
 uel, liius had tlie meaning of instruction 
 or instructive storij. The novelas have 
 been the most successful of Cervantes's 
 work.s, except Ids D. (Quixote.
 
 Chap. aI.] THE XOVELAS EXEMPLARES. 141 
 
 Curiosity," insGrted in the First Part of Don Quixote/'^ 
 and "Rinconetey Cortadillo," which is mentioned there, 
 so that both nuist be (hited as early as 1604; while oth- 
 ers contain internal evidence of the time of their 
 composition, * as the ''Espanola Inglesa " does, * 120 
 which seems to have been written in 1611. 
 All of these stories are, as he intimates in their Pref- 
 ace, original, and most of them have the air of being 
 drawn from his personal experience and observation.^^ 
 
 Their value is different, for they are written with 
 different views, and in a variety of style and manner 
 greater than he has elsewhere shown ; but most of 
 them contain touches of what is""peTmiifH*^ in his talent, 
 and are full of that rich eloquence, anff of those pleas- 
 ing descriptions of natural scenery, which always flow 
 so easily from his pen. They have little in common 
 with the graceful story-telling spirit of Boccaccio and 
 his followers, and still less with the strictly practical 
 
 13 The "Ciirioso Impertinente," first these tales are the oldest in the lan- 
 priiited in 1605, in the First Part of Don guage, — " Yo soy el priniero que he 
 Quixote, was printed in Paris in 1608, iiovelado en lengua Castellana"; — but 
 — live years before the collected Nove- he explains this by .saying that those 
 las appeared in Madrid, — by Ciesar who had preceded hini in this style of 
 Oudin, a teacher of Spanish at the composition had borrowed their lictions 
 French court, who caused several other from other languages. This is true of 
 Spanish books to be printed in Paris, Timouuda, butit isnottrueof tluiConde 
 where the Castilian was in much favor Lucanor. I su))pose, however, that he 
 from the intermarriages between the referred to the " No velas," then coming 
 crowns of France and^Spain. Oudin in fashion, which were taken from the 
 printed the Curioso Impertinente, with- Italian. Those of Cervantes have been, 
 out its author's name, at the end of a undoubtedly, after the Don Quixote, 
 volume entitled Silva curiosa de Julian the most favored of all his works, and 
 de Medrano, cavallero Navarro, ec, cor- the most des<'i'ving of favor. One sep- 
 regida en esta nueva edicion, ec, por ai'ate t(!stimony to their power should, 
 Cesar Oudin. Paris, 1608, 8vo, pj). however, not be forgotten. In Lock- 
 328. Many other proofs could be given hart's Life of Scott (ed. London, 1839, 
 of the fashionable prevalence of Spanisli Vol. X. p. 187) we are told that Scott 
 in France. Cervantes says, somewhat " expressed the mo.st unbounded adnii- 
 extravagantly, " En Francia ni muger ration for Cervantes, and said that the 
 ni varon d(!xa de aprender la Lengua ' Novelas ' of that author had inspired 
 Ca.stellana." (Persile.s, Lib. III. c. 13.) him with the ambition of exielling in 
 But the Spanish tlieatre established in fiction, and tliat, until disabled by ill- 
 Paris twelve years is proof enough. See ness, he had been a constant reader of 
 fost. Chap. XXVI. note 12. them." 
 
 1* In the prologue, Cei'vantes says
 
 142 THE NOVELA.S EXEMPLAKES. [Pemud II, 
 
 tone of Don Juan Manuel's tales ; nor, on the other 
 hand, do thej* approach, except in the case of the Im- 
 pertinent Curiosity, the class of short novels Avhich 
 have been frequent in other countries within the last 
 century. The more, therefore, we examine them, the 
 more we shall find that they are original in their com- 
 position and ■4:;e neral ^tone, and that they are strongly 
 marked with the indivi(hial ucuiiis of their author, as 
 well as with the more peculiar traits of the national 
 character, — the ground, no doubt, on which they 
 have always been favorites at home, and less valued 
 than they deserve to be abroad. As works of inven- 
 tion they rank, among their author\s prod-uctions, next 
 after Don Quixote ; in correctness and grace of (^tyle, 
 they stand before it. 
 
 The first in the series, " The Little Gypsy Girl," is 
 the story of a beautiful creature, Preciosa, who had 
 been stolen, when an infant, from a noble family, and 
 educated in tlie wild community of the Gypsies, — 
 that mysterious and degraded race which, until within 
 the last fifty years, has always thriven in Spain since 
 it first appeared there in the fifteenth century. There 
 
 is a truth, as well as a spirit, in parts of this 
 * 121 little story, that * cannot be overlooked. The 
 
 description of Preciosa's first appearance in 
 Madrid duriniif a great reli":ious festival ; the effect 
 ])i-odnced l)y her dancing and singing in the streets; 
 her visits to the houses to which she was called for 
 the amusement of the rich ; and the conversations, 
 com})liments, and style of entertainment, are all ad- 
 mirable, and leave no doubt of their truth and re- 
 ality. But there are other passages which, mis- 
 taking in some respects the true Gypsy character, 
 seem as if they were rather drawn from some such
 
 Cii-vr. XI. J THE NOVKLAS EXKMI'LAlIKb. 143 
 
 imitations ol' it as the '^ Life of Bampfjlde Moore Ca- 
 rew " than from a familiarity with Gypsy life as it 
 then existed in Spa in. ^'^ 
 
 The next of the tales is very different, and yet no 
 less within the personal experience of Cervantes 
 himself It is called " The Generous Lover," and is 
 neiirly the same in its incidents with an episode found 
 in his o)vn "Trato de Argel." The scene is laid in 
 Cyprus, two years after the capture of that island 
 by the Turks, in 1570; but here it is his own adven- 
 tures in Algiers upon which he draws for the materials 
 and coloring of what is Turkish in his story, and the 
 vivacity of his descriptions shows how much of reality 
 there is in both. , 
 
 The third stor}*, " Rinconete y Cortadillo," is again 
 quite unlike any of the others. It is an account, 
 partly in the picaresque style, of two young vagabonds, 
 not without ingenuity and spirit, who join at Seville, 
 in 1569, one of those organized communities of robbers 
 and beggars which often recur in the history of Span- 
 ish society and manners during the last three centuries. 
 The realm of Monipodio, their chief, reminds us at once 
 of Alsatia in Sir Walter Scott's " Nigel," and the 
 resemblance is made still more obvious afterwards, 
 when, in "The Colloquy of the Dogs," we find the 
 same Monipodio in secret league with the officers of 
 justice.^^- A single trait, however, will show with 
 what fidelity Cervantes has copied from nature. The 
 members of this confederacy, who lead the most 
 
 !•' This story lias been draniatized or a liundred others of the same sort, 
 
 more than once in Spain, and freely The large dictionary of the Spanish 
 
 nsed elsewhere, — among the rest, as Academy makes Monipodio a popnlar 
 
 an opera, by Carl Maria Weber. See corruption of Monijjolio; and Antonio 
 
 note on the "Gitanilla" of Soils, 2wst, Perez, in one of his letters to Gil de 
 
 Chap. XXV. Mesa, extends it to frauds in contracts, 
 
 14 The name of "Monipodio" was foiged testaments, etc.; in short, to 
 
 no moi-e taken by accident than that of general roguery. 
 Jonathan Oldcn'bnck, Mr. Alhvorthy,
 
 144 THE NOVELAS EXEMl'LAKEtS. lI'ki^I'JI' H- 
 
 * 122 dissolute and lawless lives, are yet * repre- 
 sented as superstitious, and as having tlieir 
 images, their masses, and their contributions for pious 
 charities, as if robbery Avere a settled and respectable 
 vocation, a part of whose income was to be devoted to 
 religious purposes m order to consecrate the remainder ; 
 a delusion which, in forms alternately ridiculous and 
 revolting, has subsisted in Spain from very eaaly tinies^ 
 down to the present day.^*^ 
 
 It would be easy to go on and show how the rest of 
 the tales are nuirked wdth similar traits of truth and 
 nature : for example, the story founded on the adven- 
 tures of a Spanish girl carried to England when Cadiz 
 was sacked in 1596; "The Jealous Estremadurian." 
 and '■ The Fraudulent Marriage," the last two of which 
 bear internal evidence of being founded on fact ; and 
 even " The Pretended Aunt," which, as he did not 
 print it himself, — apparently in consequence of its 
 coarseness, — ought not now to l)e placed among his 
 works, is after all the story of an adventure that 
 really occurred at Salamanca in 1575.^' Indeed, they 
 
 i« It i.s ill) admirable hit, when llin- ^Madrid, 1810, 12mo,) notes the aptiie.ss, 
 
 conete, lii'st becoming Hcijuainted with with which C'ei'vantes alludes to the 
 
 <me of tlie rogues, asks him, " Es vuesa diflerent localities in the gi-eat cities of 
 
 merced por ventura ladron?" and the Spain, which constituted the lendez- 
 
 rogue replies, ^^ Si, pnru servir d Dios y vous and lurking-i)laces of its vagabond 
 
 ft la bueiia t/enle." (Novelas, Tom. E po])ulation. (p. 75.) Among these Sc- 
 
 ]». 23rj.) And, again, the scene (pp. ville was pre-eminent. Guevara, when 
 
 242 --247) where Hinconete and Corta- he describes a community like that of 
 
 dillo are n-ceived among the robbers, Monijiodio, places it, as Cervantes does, 
 
 and tiiat (pp. 254, 255) where two of in Seville. Dial)lo Cojuelo, Trance 
 
 the shameless women of the gang are IX. 
 
 very anxious to provide candles to .set '" Coarse as it i.s, however, tlie "Tia 
 up as devout olferings before their pa- Fingida" was found, with " Kinrunete 
 tron .saints, are hardly less hajipy, and y Cortadillo," and several other tales 
 are perfectly true to the cliaiacters rep- and miseellanies, in a manu.script col- 
 resented. Indeeil, it is ))lain from this lection of stories and trifles made 1606- 
 tale, anil from several of the Entrenie- 1610, fur the amusement of the Arch- 
 .ses of Cervantes, that he wa.s familiar bishoji of Seville, D. Fernando Nin'. de 
 with the life of the rogues of his time. Ouevaia ; and long afterwards carefully 
 Fermin Caballero, in a jdeasant tract preserved by the Jesuits of St. Hernie- 
 on the f;eograj)hical Knowledge of Cer- negild. A castigated coi)y of it was 
 vantes,(I'ericia Geograficade Cervantes, printed by Arrieta in his " Es]i{ritu de
 
 Chai'. XI.] 
 
 THE VIAUE DEL TAKXASO. 
 
 140 
 
 are all fresh iVoni the * raey soil of the national * 123 
 character, as that character is found in Anda- 
 lusia ; and are written with an idiomatic richness, 
 a s})irit, and a grace, which, though they are the oldest 
 tales of their class in Spain, have left them ever since 
 without successful rivals. Ten editions of them were 
 pul)lished in nine years. 
 
 In 1(314, the year after they appeared, Cervantes 
 printed his "Journey to Parnassus"; a satire in ter?:a 
 rliitd, divided into eight short chapters, and written in 
 professed imitation of an Italian satire, by Cesare 
 Caporali, on the same subject and in the same meas- 
 ure.^^ Tlie poem of Cervantes has little merit. It 
 is an account of a summons by Apollo, requiring all 
 good poets to come to his assistance for the purpose of 
 driving all the bad poets from Parnassus, in the course 
 of which Mercury is sent in a royal galley, allegoricallj 
 
 Myuel de Cervantes" (Madrid, 1814, 
 12nio) ; but the Prussian ambassador 
 in Spain, if I mistake not, soon after- 
 wards obtained possession of an unal- 
 tered copy, certified by Navarrete to be 
 exact, and sent it to Berlin, where it 
 was published by the famous Greek 
 scholar, Y. A. Wolf, first in one of the 
 periodicals of Berlin, and afterwards in 
 a separate pamphlet. (See his Vorhe- 
 richt to the " Tia Fingida, Novela in- 
 edita de Miguel de C'ervantes Saavedra," 
 Berlin, 1818, 8vo. ) It has since been 
 printed in Spain with the other tales of 
 t'ervantes. 
 
 An acute, characteristic criticism of 
 the "Tia Fingida," by D. Bart. Jose 
 Gallardo, may be found in the first num- 
 ber of his "Criticon," 1835; giving, 
 among other curious matter, improved 
 readings of it in .several places. 
 
 Some of the tales of Cervantes were 
 translated into English as early as 1640 ; 
 but not well into French, I think, till 
 Viardot published his translation (Paris, 
 1838, 2 tom. 8vo). Even he, however, 
 did not venture on the obscure puns 
 and jests of the " Licenciado Vidriera," 
 a fiction of which Moreto made use in 
 his play of the same name, representing 
 vol,, ri. 10 
 
 the Licentiate, however, as a feigned 
 madman and not as a real one, and 
 showing little of the humor of the origi- 
 nal conception. (Comedias Escogidas, 
 Madrid, 4to, Tom. V. 1653.) Under 
 the name of " Leocadie," there is a poor 
 abridgment of the " Fuerza de la San- 
 gre," by Florian. The old English 
 tran.slation by Mabbe (London, 1640, 
 folio) is said by Godwin to be " perhaps 
 the most perfect specimen of proses 
 translation in the English language." 
 (Lives of E. and J. Pliilips, Loudon, 
 1815, 4to, p. 246.) The praise is ex- 
 cessive, but the translation is certainly 
 very well done. It, however, extends 
 only to six of the tales. 
 
 1" The first edition is in small duo- 
 decimo, (Madrid, 1614,) 80 leaves ; bet- 
 ter piinted, I think, than any other of 
 his woi'ks that were published under 
 his own care. Little but the opening 
 is imitated from Cesare Caporali's "Vi- 
 aggio in Parnaso," which is only about 
 one fifth as long as the poem of Cer- 
 vantes. The " Viag(! del Pai'uaso " had 
 no success. Unless there is an edition 
 of Milan, 1624, which 1 know only from 
 N. Antonio, none appeared after the 
 first, I believe, till 1736.
 
 14G TlIK VIAUK DKl- PAiJXASO. [rj:i;i(>i. H. 
 
 ])uilt and rigg'ed with dilU'ronl kinds ol" verses, to Cer- 
 vantes, who. beini;- confidentially consulted about the 
 Spanisli poets tliat ean l)e trusted as allies in the war 
 against bad taste, has an opportunity of speaking his 
 opinion on wliatever relates to the poetry of his time. 
 
 The most interesting part is the fourth cliapter. 
 in which he slightly notices the works he has himself 
 written.^'' and com])lains. with a gayety that at 
 * 124 least proves *' his good-humor, of the poverty 
 and neglect with which they have been re- 
 warded.-" It may be dilhcult, perhaps, to draw a line 
 between such feelings as Cervantes here very strongly 
 expresses, and the kindred ones of vanity and pre- 
 sumption ; but yet, when his genius, his Avants, and his 
 manlv strui2:o:les against the gravest evils of life are 
 considered, and when to this are added the light- 
 heartedness and simplicity with which he always 
 speaks of himself, and the indulgence he always shows 
 to others, fcAV will complain of him for claiming with 
 some boldness honors that had been coldly withheld, 
 and to whic-h he felt that he was entitled. 
 
 At the end he has added a humorous jn-ose dialogue, 
 called the " Adjunta," defending his dramas, and attack- 
 ing the actoi's who refused to represent them. He 
 says that he had prepared six full-length plays, and six 
 Entremeses, or farces; l)ut that the theatre liad its 
 
 ^^ .Vmonp thoni he sjicaks of many FcniinKU'z, Madrid, 179(5, Svo, Tom. 
 
 ballads tliat lie had written : — XVI. j). 17.'). Jlayans, Vida <lc Cer- 
 
 Yo hceompiie>;to Uonianres infinitos, vantes, I\0. ](>4. 
 
 Y <-l deIosZc"losoKa(nicl (lueeftinio 20 ^jioHo tidls llim, (Viagc, cd. 1784, 
 
 Entre otros, (jue los U;ngo por nialditos. ^ 55 ) 
 
 All these are lost, except such as may " Mas si (|iiieres salinle tu iiucrclla. 
 l)c found scattered througli his longer AU'^^r.. v n.. ronfuso y consolaa.. 
 
 , , 1-111 Dohia tu i-apa v sifiitate sobrc clla. 
 
 works, and some Whicil have been SUS- Que U.l vo/. sudeun venturoso estado, 
 )ie.cted to be his in tin- Koniancero Gen- Qimndo le niejiii sin razon la suerte, 
 
 eral. ("lemencin, notes to his e(l. of , Honnir mas memido quf alcanzado " 
 r. ,-1 • . rp Til — 1 ri- .-t-i I ' Bicn parcce, Soiior, (lue no se adricrto, ' 
 
 Don Quixote, Tom. III. pp. 15b, 214. I... r...!.pnn,li, " ,,uc J" noten^'ocnpa - 
 
 Colecciou de Poesuus dc Don lianion El dixo: "Aunquu sea a«i, gusto de verte.''
 
 LiiAP. XL] THE yiAGE DEL PARXASO. 147 
 
 pensioned poets, und so took no note of liiin. The 
 next _ve;ir, liowever, when their lunnher had become 
 eight phiys and eight Entrenieses, he fonnd a ])ul)hsher, 
 thongh not without diliicnlty ; for the bookseller, as 
 he saj^s in the Preface, had been warned by a noble 
 anthor, that from his prose nineli might l)e hoped, but 
 from his poetry nothing. And truly his position in 
 relation to the theatre was not one to be desired. 
 Thirty years had passed since lie liad himself been 
 a successful writer for it ; and the twenty or more 
 pieces he had then produced, some of which he men- 
 tions anew with great complacency,"^ were, no 
 doubt, long since forgotten. * In the interval, * 125 
 as he tells us, " that great prodigy of nature, 
 Lope de Vega, had raised himself to the monarchy of 
 the theatre, subjected it to his control, and placed 
 all its actors under his jurisdiction ; filled the world 
 with becoming plays, happily and well written ; . . . . 
 and if any persons (and in truth there are not a 
 few such) have desired to enter into competition with 
 him and share the glory of his labors, all they have 
 done, when put together, would not equal the half of 
 what has been done by him alone." ^^ 
 
 21 The "Confu.sa" was eviik'iitly his talla Naval," which, from its name, 
 
 favorite among these eailiei- pieces. In contained, I think, his personal ex- 
 
 the Viage he says of it, — periences at the fight of Lepanto, as 
 
 Soj' por quicn La Confusa nada fea the " Trato de Argel " contained those 
 
 Pareci J en los teatros admirable ; q^ Algiers, 
 
 and in the "Adjunta" he says, "De -^ After alluding to his earlier efforts 
 
 la f^ue mas me precio fue ?/ es, de una on the stage, Cervantes goes on in the 
 
 llamada La Confusa, la qual, con paz Prologo to his new plays : "Tuveotras 
 
 sea dieho, de quantas comedias de capa cosas en que ocuparme ; dexe la pluma 
 
 y espada hasta hoy se han representado, y las comedias, y entro luego el mon- 
 
 bien pucde tener lugar senalado jior struo de naturaleza, el gran Lope de 
 
 buena entre las mejores." This boast, Vega, y alzose con la monarquia comica ; 
 
 it should ))e remembered, was made in avasallo y pnso debaxo de su juris- 
 
 1614, when Cervantes had i)rinted the diccion a todos los Farsantes, lleno el 
 
 First Part of the Don Quixote, and mundo de Comedias proprias, felices y 
 
 when Lope and his school were at the bien razonadas ; y tantas que ])a,ssan de 
 
 height of their glory. It is ])robable, diez mil jiliegos los que tiene escritos, 
 
 however, tliat we, at the present tlay, y todas (que es una de las mayores 
 
 should be more curious to see the " Ba- cosas que puedc decii'se) las ha visto
 
 148 THE COMEDIAS OF CERYAXTES. [Pkkiod II. 
 
 The number of these writers for the stage in 1G15 
 was. as Cervantes intimates, very considerable ; and 
 when he goes on to enumerate, an.ong the more suc- 
 cessful, Mira de Mescna, Guillen de Castro, Aguilar, 
 Luis Velez de Guevara, Caspar de Avila, and several 
 others, we perceive, at once, that the essential dh^ection 
 and character of the Spanish drama were at last 
 determmed. Of course, the free field open to liiui 
 when he composed the plays of his j'outh was now 
 closed ; aiid as he wrote from the pressure of w^ant, he 
 conld venture to write onl^^ according to the models 
 triumphantly established by Lope de Vega and his 
 imitators. 
 
 The -eight plays or Comedias he now produced w^ere, 
 therefore, all composed in the style and in the forms 
 of verse already fashionable and settled. Their subjects 
 are as various as the subjects of his tales. One of 
 them is a rifacimento of his " Trato de Argel," and 
 is curious, because it contains some of the materials, 
 and even occasionally the very phraseology, 
 * 126 of the story * of the Captive in Don Quixote, 
 and l)ecause Lope de Vega thought fit after- 
 wards to use it somewhat too freely in the composition 
 of his own " Esclavos en x\rgel."^^ Much of it seems 
 to be founded in fi\ct ; among the rest, the deplorable 
 martyrdom of a child in the third act, and the repre- 
 
 representar, u oido decir (por lo menos) of othei-s aftei-ward ; and ends with a 
 
 que se han reprcseiitado ; y si algunos, Moorish wedding and a Christian mar- 
 
 (((ue hay nmcli(js) han querido entrar tyi'dom. (See ante. Chap. X.) He 
 
 a la parte y .i^loria th- sus trabajos, todos says of it himself : — 
 juntos no llegan en lo que han escrito No de la jmaginacion 
 
 a la mitad de lo que el solo," etc. Este trato f-e i^acj 
 
 •M mi • 1 1 ■ 1 / > i. 11 Q"<-' la vcnlad lo fraeuo 
 
 ^ This play, which ( ervantes calls gj^,, 1pj„, j^, i,^ ^^^-^^^ 
 
 " Los Baiios de Argel," (Coinedia.s, p. 186. 
 
 1749, Tom. I. p. 125,) opens with the tJj^, y(.^\^j,\ resemblances between the 
 
 landing of a I^Ioorish corsair on the ^i^^ .^,,,1 ^j^^. j^^i-y ^f the Captive are 
 
 coast of Valencia ; gives an account of ehietlv in the first jormida of the play, 
 
 the suffei-ings of the captives taken in ^s colnpared with Don Quixote, Parte 
 
 this descent, as well as the sufleiings j_ ^ ^q^
 
 CiiAf. XI] THE COMEDIAS OF CEKNANTES. 149 
 
 seiitatioii of one of the Coloquios or farces of Lope de 
 Rueda by the slaves in their prison-yard. 
 
 Another of the plays, the story of which is also said 
 to be true, is " El Gallardo Espanol," or The Bold Span- 
 iard.^^ Its hero, named Saavedra, and therefore, per- 
 haps, of the old family into which that of Cervantes 
 had long before intermarried, goes over to the Moors 
 for a time, from a point of honor about a lady, but 
 turns out at last a true Spaniard in everything else, as 
 well as in the exaggeration of his gallantry. " The 
 Sultana" is founded on the history of a Spanish cap- 
 tive, who rose so high in the favor of the Grand Turk, 
 that she is represented in the play as having become, 
 not merely a favorite, but absolutely the Sultana, and 
 yet as continuing to be a Christian, — a story which 
 was readily believed in Spain, though only the first 
 part of it is true, as Cervantes must have known, since 
 Catharine of Oviedo, who is the heroine, was his con- 
 temporary.^^ The " Rufian Dichoso " is a Don 
 * Juan in licentiousness and crime, who is con- * 127 
 verted and becomes so extraordinary a saint, 
 that, to redeem the soul of a dying sinner. Dona Ana 
 de Trevino, he formally surrenders to her his own 
 virtues and good works, and assumes her sins, be- 
 
 -* The part we should least willingly Que mi peligro es notorio, 
 
 suppose to be true — that of a droll, ?i ya no estais en estas horas 
 
 .' ^ . ... , , , ,, ', Durmienao en el aormitono. 
 
 roistering soldier, who gets a shameiul Tom. I. p- 34. 
 
 subsistence by begging for souls in Pur- , , , , , , , . ■ ■ ^ ■ ,_ ,_ 
 
 gatory, and spending on his own glut- f^^\''^ "^'''l}' -^^^^ ^^i« principal intent 
 
 tony the alms he receives — is particu- ^'^''"' Mezxlar verdades 
 
 larly vouched for by Cervantes. ' ' Esto con fabulosos inten'tor 
 
 de i)edir para las animas es cuento ver- mi r. ■ i -i ^ ■ r ,i ^ n 
 
 dadero, qiie yo lo vl." How so indecent Jhe Spanish doctrine of the play - all 
 
 an exhibition on the stage could be per- f°' ,\°^« /'"^ / ,°''^~ ^\ •''*'" V'V^'''^'^^ 
 
 mitted is the wonder. Once, for in- ^"^ *^^ .*^'° following lines from the 
 
 stance, when in great personal danger, ^'^'^^"^ ■^^^'^^^'^ • " 
 
 he prays thus, as if he had read the Que por reynar y por amor no hay culpa, 
 
 ' ' Clouds " of Aristophanes : — ^""^ °° *^"^'' P'^'"''"" ' ^ ''^"^ '^'^^"'"^- 
 
 2= Se vino A Constantinopla, 
 Animas de Purgatorio 1 Creo el aiio de seiscientos. 
 
 Favoreced me, Senoras 1 Jor. III.
 
 150 THE COMKDIAS OF CKUVANTES. [rKKioD II. 
 
 filming anew, through inc're(hhlo siin'erhigs, the career 
 of penitence and reformation ; all of which, or at least 
 M'hat is the most o-ross and revoltino- in it. is declared 
 by Cervantes, as an e^'e-witness, to be true.-'' 
 
 The remaining four pla\'s are no less various in their 
 subjects, and no less lawless in the modes of treating 
 them ; and all the eight are divided into three j'ornadas, 
 Avhich Cervantes uses as strictly synonymous with 
 acts.-' All preserve the character of the Fool, who in 
 one instance is an ecclesiastic,^ and all extend over 
 any amount of time and space that is foimd convenient 
 to the action; the " Rufian Dichoso," for instance, 
 beginning in Seville and Toledo, during the youth of 
 the hero, and ending in Mexico in his old age. The 
 personages represented are extravagant in their num- 
 ber, — once amounting to above thirtv. — and among 
 them, besides every variety of human existences, are 
 Demons, Souls in Purgatory, Lucifer, Fear, Despair, 
 Jealousy, and other similar phantasms. The truth is, 
 Cervantes had renounced all the principles of the 
 drama which his discreet canon had so gravely set 
 forth ten years earlier in the First Part of Don Quixote; 
 and noAV, wdiether with the consent of his will, or only 
 with that of his poverty, we cannot tell, but, as may 
 be seen, not merely in the plays themselves, but in 
 a sort of induction to the second act of the Kufian 
 
 -'' The f'huicli prayers on tlie sta^e '^^ He uses the words as convertil)li'. 
 
 ill this play, and esjiecially in Jornada Tom. I. i)p. 21, 22; Tom. II. p. 2.5, 
 
 II., and the sort of legal contract used etc. 
 
 to ti-ansfer the merits of the healthy "■* In the " Banos de Argel," where 
 
 saint to the dying sinner, are among he is sometimes indecorous enough, as 
 
 the revolting exhihitions of the Span- when, (Tom. I. ]>. 151,) giving the 
 
 ish drama which at first seem inexpli- Moors the reason why his old general, 
 
 eahle, but which any one who reads far Don John of Austria, does not come to 
 
 ill it easily understands. Cervantes, in .subdue A]gier.s, he sa3^s : — 
 many parts of this strange play, avers 
 
 the truth of what he thus represents. Sin du.la que, en el cielo, 
 
 <<rn 1 J. r ' 1 1 !• <ini Debia de hiilier tn".in giierra, 
 
 iayiiig, "Todoe.stofue verdad ;' Jo- Do el fJeneral falt.iba, 
 
 do esto fue asf " ; " .\<i' '^c c\iciit;i en su Y 4 Don .luan se llevaron para serlo. 
 hi.storia," etc.
 
 Chap. XI.] THE ENTKEMESE.S OF C'EKVAXTE.S. 151 
 
 Dichoso, lie had * f'ull\' and knowingly adopted * 128 
 the draniatie theories of Lope's school. 
 
 The ei<>ht Entrenieses are better than the ei^-ht full- 
 length plays. They are short farces, generally in j 
 prose, with a slight plot, and sometimes with none, 
 and were intended merely to amuse an audience in the 
 intervals between the acts of the longer pieces. "^ The 
 Spectacle of Wonders," for instance, is only a series of 
 practical tricks to frighten the persons attending a. \ 
 puppet-show^, so as to persuade them that they see ' 
 wdiat is reallv not on the staije. '" The Watchful 
 Guard" interests us, because he seems to have drawni 
 the character of the soldier from his own ; and the 
 date of 1611, which is contained in it, may indicate the 
 time when it was written. " The Jealous Old Man " is 
 a reproduction of the tale of " The Jealous Estremadu- 
 rian," with a different and more spirited conclusion. 
 And the " Cueva de Salamanca " is one of those jests 
 at the expense of husbands which are common enough 
 on the Spanish stage, and were, no doubt, equally 
 common in Spanish life and manners. All, indeed, 
 have ;in air of truth and reality, wdiich, whether they 
 were founded in fact or not, it was evidently the 
 author's purpose to give them. 
 
 But there was an insuperable difficulty in the way 
 of all his efforts on the stage. Cervantes had not , 
 dramatic talent, nor a clear perception how dramatic I 
 efiects were to be produced. From the time when he 
 wrote the " Trato de Argel," which was an exhibition 
 of the sufferings he had himself witnessed and shared 
 in Algiers, he seemed to suppose that whatever was 
 both absolutely true and absolutely striking could be 
 produced with effect on the theatre ; thus confounding 
 the province of romantic fiction an<l story-telling with
 
 1-52 
 
 THE COMEDIAS OF CEKVANTES. 
 
 [Peuidu 11. 
 
 that of tlieatricul representjitioii, and often relying on 
 trivial incidents and an liinnble style for effects which 
 could be produced only by ideal elevation and inci- 
 dents so combined by a dramatic instinct as to produce 
 a dramatic interest. 
 
 This Avas, probably, owing in part to tlie different 
 
 direction of his original genius, and in pait 
 * 120 to the condition * of the theatre, which in his 
 
 youth he had found open to every kind of ex- 
 periment and really settled in nothing. But whatever 
 may have been the cause of his failure, the failure 
 itself lias been a great stumbling-block in the way of 
 ♦Spanish critics, who have resorted to somewhat violent 
 means in order to prevent the reputation of Cervantes 
 from being burdened with it. Thus, Bias de Nasarre, 
 the king's librarian, — who, in 1749, published the 
 fii'st edition of these unsuccessful dramas that had ap- 
 peared since they were printed above a century earlier, 
 — would persuade us, in his Preface, that they were 
 written l>y Cervantes to parody and caricature the 
 theatre of Lope de Vega ; -^ though, setting aside all 
 
 ■^ Sec tlio early jwit of tlu' " Prologo 
 <lel (jue hace iiiipriiuii'." 1 am not cer- 
 tain that Bias de Nasarre was perfectl)' 
 fair in all this ; for he printed, in 1732, 
 an edition of Avellaneda's continuation 
 (if Don Qnixote, in tlic Preface to which 
 lie says that he thinks the character of 
 Avellanedn's Sancho is more natnial 
 tiian that of Cei'vantes's Sancho ; that 
 the Second Part of Cervantes's Don 
 Quixote is taken from Avellaneda's ; 
 and that, in its essential merits, the 
 work of Avfdlaneda is eipial to that of 
 Cervantes. "No se puede dis])Utar," 
 lie .says, " la f^loria de la invencion do 
 Cervaiiti-s, aunipK! no cs inferior la de 
 la iniitacioii de. Avellanc^da " ; to which 
 he adds afterwards, " Es cierto (jue es 
 nece.sario mayor esfnerzo de inf^enio 
 para afiadir a las primeras invenciones, 
 <pie jiara hacerlas." (See As-ellaneda, 
 JJon Quixote, Madrid, 180r>, l-2iiio. 
 
 Tom. I. ]>. 34.) Now, the Jidcio, or 
 Preface, from wliich these opinions art- 
 taken, and which is really the work of 
 Na.sarre, is announced by him, not as 
 liis own, lint as tlnr work of an anony- 
 mous friend, jirecisely as if he were not 
 willing to avow such opinions under his 
 own name. (Pellicer's Vida de Cer- 
 vantes, ed. Don Quixote, I. |). clxvi.) 
 In this way a disingenuous look is given 
 to what would otherwise have been only 
 an al)siirdity ; and what, taken in con- 
 nection with this rejirint of Cervantes's 
 poor dramas and the Preface to tlieni, 
 seems like a willingness to let down tin; 
 reputation of a genius that Nasarn; 
 could not comjireliend. 
 
 It is intimated, in an anonymous 
 pamphlet, called " Examen Critico di-l 
 Tomo Primero del Anti(iuixote," (Ma- 
 drid, ISOii, l-2mo,) that Nasarre had 
 sviiioatliies with AvclJaiicda as an Ara-
 
 Chap. XI.] THE COMEDIAS OF CERVANTES. 
 
 1. 
 
 ).> 
 
 tluit at oiico presents itself iVoin the personal relations 
 of the parties, nothing ean be more serious than the 
 interest Cervantes took in the fate of his plays, and the 
 confidence he expressed in their dranuitic merit ; while, 
 at the same time, not a line has ever been pointed 
 out as a paiody in any one of them.''" 
 
 *This position being untenable, Lani])illas, * 130 
 who, in the latter part of the last century, wrote 
 ii lonu' defence of Spanish literature ai2:ainst the sui»-o'es- 
 tions of Tiraboschi and Bettinelli in Italy, gravely main- 
 tains that Cervantes sent, indeed, eight plays and eight 
 Entremeses to the booksellers, but that the booksellers 
 took the liberty to change them, and printed eight others 
 with his name and Preface. It should not, how^ever, be 
 forgotten that Cervantes lived to prepare two works 
 after this, and if such an insult had been ojffered him, 
 the country, judging from the way in which he treated 
 the less gross oflence of Avellaneda, would have been 
 tilled with his reproaches and remonstrances;^^ 
 
 ^oiiese ; and tlie pamphlet in uncstion 
 being mulevstood to be the work of J. 
 A. Pellieer, the editor of Don Quixote, 
 this intimation deserves notice. It may 
 be a(Uled, that Nasan'e belonged to the 
 French school of the eighteenth centnry 
 in Sjiain, — a school that saw little 
 merit in the older Spanish drama. His 
 remarks o!i it, in his preface to Cer- 
 vantes, nnd on the contemporary Eng- 
 lish school of comedy, show this plainly 
 enough, and leave no donbt that his 
 knowledge upon the whole sul)ject was 
 inconsiderable, and his taste as bad as 
 it well could be. 
 
 3'^ The extravagant opinion, that these 
 ])lays of Cervantes were written to dis- 
 credit the plays then in ftishion on the 
 stage, just as the Don Quixote was writ- 
 ten to discredit the fashionable books 
 of chivalry, did not pass uncontradicted 
 at the time. The year after it was 
 published, a pamphlet appeared, enti- 
 tled "La Sinrazon imj)ugnada y Beata 
 de Lavapies, Colocpiio (Jritico apuntado 
 al disparatado Prologo ([ue sirve de de- 
 
 lantal (segun nos dice su Autoi') a las 
 Coniedias de Miguel de Cervantes, com- 
 puesto poi' Don Josej)!! Carrillo " (Ma- 
 drid, 17.50, -ito, pp. 25). It is a spir- 
 ited little tract, chiefly devoted to a 
 defenci! of Lope and of Calderon, though 
 the point about Cervantes is not for- 
 gotten (pp. 13-15). But in the same 
 year a longer work appeared on the 
 same side, called " Discur.so Critico 
 sobre el Origen, Calidad, y Estado pre- 
 sente de las Comedias de Espana, con- 
 tra el Dictamen que las supone cor- 
 rompidas, etc., por un Ingenio de (!sta 
 Corte" (Madrid, 1750, 4to, p]). 285). 
 The author was a lawyer in Madrid, I). 
 Thomas Zabaleta, and he writes with a.s 
 little jdiilosophy and judgment as the 
 other Spanish critics of his time ; but 
 he treats Bias de Nasarre with small 
 ceremony. 
 
 ^1 " Ensayo Historico-apologetico de 
 la Literatura Espailola," Madrid, 1789, 
 8vo, Tom. VI. pp. 170, etc. "Supri- 
 miendo las (|ue verdaderamcnte eran de 
 el," are the bold words of the critic.
 
 1~A SICKNESS AND DEATH OF CEKVAXTES. [Periud II. 
 
 Nothing remains, tliereibre, but to coniess — what 
 seems, indeed, to be quite incontestable — that Cer- 
 vantes wrote several phiys which fell seriously below 
 -what might have been hoped from him. Passages, 
 indeed, may l)e found in them where his o-enius asserts 
 itself '• The Labyrinth of Love," for instance, has a 
 chivalrous air and plot that make it interesting ; ;ind 
 the Entremes of ''The Pretended Bisca3'an " contains 
 ."Specimens of the peculiar humor with which we always 
 associate the name of its author. Others are marked 
 with the poetical genius that never deserted him. 
 But it is quite too probable that he had made u\) 
 his mind to sacrifice liis own opinions respecting the 
 drama to the popular taste ; and if the constraint he 
 thus laid upon himself was one of tlie causes of his fail- 
 ure, it only affords another groimd for our inter- 
 * 131 est in the fate of one whose * whole career was 
 so deeply marked with trials and calamity .*- 
 But the life of Cervantes, w^th all its troubles and 
 sufferings, was now fast drawing to a close. In Octo- 
 ber of the same year, 1615, he published the Second 
 Part of his Don Quixote ; and in its Dedication to the 
 Coimt de Lemos, who had for some time flivored him.*^ 
 he alludes to his failing health, and intimates that he 
 hardly looked for the continuance of life bej'ond a few 
 months. Ilis spirits, however, which had survived his 
 sufferings in the Levant, at Algiers, and in prisons at 
 
 ■« Tlioro <aii !•(• littlo doubt, I tliiiik, Cervantf-s ; the most agreeable proof of 
 
 that this \v;us the case, if wc conii)ar(t wliich is to 1k' found in the Dedication 
 
 the o])inions expressed by the canon on of the Second Part of Don Quixote, i 
 
 tlie subject of the drama in the 48th am afraid, however, that tlieir favor 
 
 chapterof the First Pait of Don Quix- was a little too much in the nature of 
 
 ote, HJO.o, and the opinions in the alms. Indeed, it is called liwosua the 
 
 opening of the secon<l jonuala of the only time it is known to be mentioned 
 
 "liufian Dichoso," IGl.'J. by any contemporary of Cervantes. See 
 
 »* It h;ia been generally concede<I Sala.s ' P>arbadillo, in the Dedication of 
 that die Count de Lemos and the Arch- the " Estafeta del Dios Momo," Ma- 
 bishop of Toledo r.v..' I I i^>i-,tc-d drid, 1G27, \2u\o.
 
 CiiAP. XI. J SICKXESS A.NL) DEATH OF CEKVAXTES. 100 
 
 home, and which, as he approached his seventieth 
 year, had been sufficient to produce a work hke the 
 Second Part of Don Quixote, did not forsake him, 
 now that his strength was wasting away under the 
 inlhience of disease and okl n^e. On the contrary, 
 with unabated vivacity he urged forward his I'omance 
 of " Persiles and Siu'ismunda" : anxious onh' that hfe 
 enougrh shouhl ))e allowed him to finish it, as the last 
 offering of his gratitude to his generous patron. In 
 the spring he went to Esquivias, where was the little 
 estate he had received with his wife, and after his re- 
 turn wrote a Preface to his unpublished romance, full 
 of a delightfid and simple humor, in which he tells a 
 pleasant story of being overtaken in his ride back to 
 Madrid by a medical student, who gave him much 
 good advice about the dropsy, under which he was 
 suffering ; to which he replied that his pulse had al- 
 ready warned him that he was not to live beyond the 
 next Sunday. " And so," says he, at the conclusion of 
 this remarkaljle Preface, '' farewell to jesting, farewell 
 my merry humors, farewell my gay friends, for I feel 
 that I am dying, and have no desire but soon to see 
 you happy in the other life." 
 
 * In this temper he prejjared to meet death, * 132 
 <as many Catholics of strong religious impres- 
 sions were accusttmied to do at that time;'^^ and. on 
 the 2d of April, entered the order of Franciscan friars, 
 wdiose habit he had assumed three years before at Al- 
 cala. Still, however, his feelings as an author, his 
 
 34 " ^Vho, to be sure of Paradise, for he makes liis reliLnou.s manieLl man 
 
 Dying put on the weeds of Dommic, + ,11 rn,„ ^■^, <- 1 ■ 1 ii i 1 u 
 
 Or in Franciscan think to pass disguised- *'?^ Cliaroii that oil his death-bed, when 
 
 \if->„ .„ A',1 1 ' . u-1 1 4.1 4,1 "IS friends asked hhn to imt on the 
 
 Allonho \ aides — it he be the author i,„k;4- ,f uj. t? • i 1 ..i 
 
 f>f +I10 ..a..,..,.i-oKi„ "r^- 1 1 i\r • nabit 01 St. 1< rancis, he answered them : 
 
 01 tne remarkable " Uialogo di^ Meruurio ,(Tr i, • i. 1 
 
 y Caron," about 1.530 (s"e ant,-., Chap. • H«-"'a»os, ya sabeis quanto me guardc. 
 
 v., note 42) - had notions on this sub- '''""l^.^'" '^' '''^«^"'"- '' ""'«^"^° ' l''"'^ '1"'= 
 ject such as Milton had, and much <V^^r' ^ ^'^}^ ^''!^''' '""S^^^' 
 wiser notions than tlios.. of Cervantes ; ^ ^'°' " ^^- ^^''^^' ^'- ^ ' -
 
 15G 
 
 SICKNESS AND DEATU OF CEKV ANTES. [Pekiod II. 
 
 vivacity, and his personal gratitude did not deseit 
 luui. On the 18th of April he received the extreme 
 unction, and the next day wrote a Dedication of his 
 '• Persiles and Sigismunda "' to the Count de Lenios, 
 marked, to an extraordinary degree, with his natural 
 humor, and with the solemn thoughts that hecanie his 
 situation.'' Tlie last known act of his life, therefore, 
 shows that he still })ossessed his faculties in perfect 
 serenity, and four days afterwards, on the 23d of 
 April, 1016, he died, at the age of sixty-eight.^^ He 
 was huried, as he probably had desired, in the convent 
 of the Xims of the Trinity ; Ijut a few years afterwards 
 this convent was removed to another part of the city, 
 and what became of the ashes of the greatest genius 
 of his country is, from that time, wholly unknown.^' 
 
 ^ Tlie only case I recollect at all 
 ]iarall('l is that of the graceful Dedica- 
 tion of Addison's works to his friend 
 and successor in office, Secretary Craggs, 
 which is dated June 4, 1719 ; thirteen 
 days before his death. But the Dedi- 
 cation of Cervantes is much more cor- 
 dial and spirited. 
 
 *' Bowie says (Anotaciones a Don 
 Quixote, Salisi)ui'y, 1781, 4to, Pi-61ogo 
 ix, note) that Cervantes died on the 
 same day with Shakespeare ; but this 
 is a mistake, the calendar not having 
 then been altered in England, and there 
 being, therefore, a difference between 
 that and the Spanish calendar of ten 
 days. 
 
 ^" Nor was any monument raised to 
 Cervantes, in Spain, until 1835, when 
 a bronze statue of hun larger than life, 
 cast at Rome by Sola of Barcelona, was 
 placed in the Plaza del Estamento at 
 Madrid. (See El Artista, Madrid, 1834, 
 183."., Tom. I. p. 20."j ; Tom. II. p. 12 ; 
 and ScnianarioPiiitoresco, 1836, p. 249.) 
 Of the head of this statue, 1 jiossess a 
 beautiful copy, in marble, made by 
 Sola himself in 18.5.0, for my friend Don 
 Cnillcrmo Picanl, a Spaniard of no com- 
 mon intellectual tastes and accomplish- 
 jneiits, who pn-scntcd it to me in ]S.')9. 
 Jiefore 183.'j I lM'li(;ve there was nothing 
 that approached nearer to a monument 
 
 in honor of Cervantes throughout the 
 world than an ordinary medal of him, 
 struck in 1818, at Paris, as one of a 
 large series which would have been ab- 
 surdly incomjdete without it ; and a 
 small medallion or bust, that was ])laced 
 in 1834, at the expen.se of an individual, 
 over the door of the house in the Calle 
 de los Francos, where he died. 
 
 As to the true likeness of Cervantes 
 — vcrd effi/fies — there has been a dis- 
 cussion going on for nearly a hundred 
 years, which is not likely soon to end. 
 The portrait commonlj- current and ac- 
 cepted derives its main authority from 
 an old picture ]>elonging to the Koyal 
 Spanish Academy, who prefixed an en- 
 graving of it to their magnificent edi- 
 tion of the Don Quixote in 1780 and 
 ga\-e their rea.sons for it in the Prologo 
 to that work (Sect, xvii-xx). Navar- 
 rete, who went with his accustomed 
 exactness and fidelity over the whole 
 ground again, in his Life of Cervaiites, 
 (Madrid, 1819, yi^. 196, 536-539,) was 
 satisfied with this decision of the Acad- 
 emy. Several other ])ortraits, however, 
 have since been brought forward, but 
 no one of them, I think, lias been 
 found, in the judgment of the curious, 
 to rest on sulJicient autliority. The 
 la.st of thiiu, mid the one which, from 
 the discussions that accompany it, comes
 
 ClIAI'. XI.] 
 
 POUTKAITS OF CEKV ANTES. 
 
 !-■ 
 
 il 
 
 with soiuf ])n'ti'ii.sii)ii lidoi'c tlic world, 
 i.s one prclixi'd to a collection of " Docu- 
 nicutos Nuevos para ilustrar la Vida de 
 Cervantes," published in 18(54 at Seville 
 by Don Jose ^laria Asensio y Toletlo. 
 The facts in tlie case, as he gives them, 
 are these : — 
 
 In 1850, Don Jose read an anonymous 
 manuscript, whose date he does not 
 intiniat(>, but which belonged to Don 
 Rafael Monti of Siiville, and which was 
 entitled " Relacion de Cosas de Se villa 
 de 1591) a 1640." In this MS. he found 
 a notice that, in ^ne of .six j)ictures 
 painted by Francisco Paclieeo and Alon- 
 so Vazijuez for the "C'asa (Jiaude de la 
 Merced," there was a portrait of Cer- 
 vantes with that of other persons who 
 had been in Algiers, and that the pic- 
 ture in question represented "los Pa- 
 dres de la Redencion con cautivos." 
 In 1864 Don Jose thinks that he found 
 this statement comj)letely contirmed in 
 a M.S. on the " Verdaderos Retratos de 
 ilustres y memorables Varones por Fran- 
 cisco Pacheco," setting forth that he 
 had painted a picture of Father Juan 
 Bernal, an eminent ecclesiastic (see aiife, 
 p. 114, note) who had been in Africa. 
 Don Jose then informs ns that these 
 six pictures are in the " Musbo Pro- 
 vincial" of Seville, and that one of 
 them, "No. 19, San Pedro de Nolasco 
 en lino de los pasos de su Vida," is, as 
 he ])elieves, the one referred to, because 
 he thinks that it sets forth the scene 
 of an embarkation from Africa of Padres 
 Redentores with ransomed captives, and 
 that one of them, the barquiuv, or boat- 
 man, with a boat-hook in his hand, is 
 the figure of Cervantes and a true like- 
 ness of him. Docunientos, pp. i, ii, iv, 
 X, xi, 68-82. 
 
 Setting aside all minor difficulties and 
 objections to this theory, of which there 
 are several, there are two others that 
 seem to me to be decisive. 1. There is 
 no reason to snppo.se that this "No. 
 19" contains a likeness of Padre Ber- 
 nal, who is not claimed to have been 
 painted by Pacheco as part of this or of 
 any other historical picture, but only 
 as a portrait, — Pacheco's phrase being, 
 "Yo le retrate." 2. Thfere is no rea- 
 son to suppose that any picture which 
 might contain a i)ortrait of Bernal would 
 also contain a portrait of Cervantes, the 
 two having never before been mentioned 
 
 together. Now, as the I'ailure of cither 
 of these po.stulates is fatal to the con- 
 jecture of Don Jose, it does not seem 
 needful to go further. 
 
 Ilartzenbusidi, in a letter jirefixed to 
 the " Documentos," (p. xvii,) thinks 
 that the head of the ljii.rqiitr<i, and the 
 head authorized by th(^ Academy as 
 that of Cervantes, may represent the 
 same person at different periods of life, 
 — piiedot representar una persona, ec. ; 
 and Don Jo.se (p. 87) seems to agree 
 with Hai-tzenbu.sch. I do not, indeed, 
 myself see the resemblance indicated 
 between the two ; but, if there be any, 
 tlie hirqncro's head would seem to coun- 
 tenance the genuineness of that of the 
 Academy, just so far as that of thi< 
 bnrqucro is believed to represent Cer- 
 vantes. It is admitted, however, that 
 the handsome young boatman is very 
 unlike the desciiption of himself gi\-en 
 by Cervantes in the Prologo to his No- 
 velas, 1613 ; while, on the other hanil, 
 we cannot help agi-eeing with the cau- 
 tions Navarrete, that the old yiicture 
 of the Academy is " conforme en todo " 
 with this very minute description. 
 Villa, p. 196. 
 
 The great misfortune in the case is, 
 that the portrait of Cervantes which he 
 himself, in the Prologo to his Novelas, 
 tells us was painted by "el famoso 
 Juan de Jauregui," is not known to 
 exi.st, although it has been anxiously 
 sought for. It seems to have been 
 entirely satisfactory to Cervantes, and 
 would have settled all ipiestions. See 
 post. Vol. III. p. 34. 
 
 It may not be amiss to add here, that 
 in the description of his own person, so 
 often referred to in this note, Cervantes 
 says that he was a stutterer or stam- 
 merer, tarlamuclo ; and that the expres- 
 sion of the mouth in the portrait of th(^ 
 Academy and in the statue of Sola 
 seems to me to indicate this defect of 
 utterance, just as it is indicated in the 
 heads of Demosthenes that have come 
 down to us from antiiiuity, and as it is 
 indicated by the genius of Jliidiael An- 
 gelo in his well-known statue of Mo.ses. 
 (Visconti, Iconografia Greca, 8vo, Mi- 
 lano, 1823, Tom. I. p. 335.) If I am 
 right in this, it is a confirmation of the 
 genuineness of the portrait sanctioned 
 by the Academy.
 
 1 o« 
 iOi 
 
 * C H A ? T E R XII. 
 
 CERVANTES. HIS PERSILES AXD SIGISJIINDA, AND ITS CHARACTER. HIS 
 
 DON liLlXOTE. — CIRCUMSTANCES UNDER WHICH IT WAS WRITTEN. ITS 
 
 PURPOSE AND GENERAL PLAN. 1'VIM FIRST. AVELLAJiKDA. PART SEC- 
 OND. CHARACTER OF THE MIIOLE. CHARACTER OF CERVANTES. 
 
 Six months after the death of Cervantes,^ the 
 
 license for pubhshing " Persiles and Sigisniunda " was 
 
 granted to his widow, and in 1617 it was 
 
 * 134 ])rinted.'- His purpose * seems to have been 
 
 1 At tlic time of his death Cervantes 
 seems to have had tlie fon<)\viiig work.s 
 more or h'ss prepared for the ])res.s, 
 namely: "Las Semanas del Jardiii," 
 announced as early as 1613 ; — the Sec- 
 ond Part of "Galatea," announced in 
 161.5 ; — the " Bernardo," mentioned in 
 the Dedication of " Per.siles," just be- 
 fore he died ; — and s-everal plays, re- 
 ferred to in the Preface to those he 
 published, and in the Api)endix to the 
 "Yiagedel Parnaso." All the.se works 
 aie now ])robably lost. Others have 
 been attributed to him. Of the " P.u- 
 scapie" I shall .speak in the Appendix, 
 and of two apocryjihal cha))ters of Don 
 Quixote in a note to this chapter. To 
 these may be added a letter on .i ])()pu- 
 lar festival, part of which is juinted in 
 the twentieth volume of the Biblioteca 
 de Autores Espaiioles, 1851, p. xxvii. 
 
 '■^ The iirst e'dition of Per.siles y Sigis- 
 niunda was printed with the following; 
 title : " Los Traliajos de Persiles y 
 Sigisinunda, Historia Setentrional, ])or 
 M. de Cervantes Saavedra, dirit^ida," 
 etc., Madrid, 1617, 8vo, por .hum de 
 la Cuesta ; and rejnints of it api)eared 
 in Valencia, I'amplona, Barcelona, and 
 Brussels, tlie same year. I have a co])y 
 of this first edition, and of the one 
 ]trinted at Pamplona the same year ; 
 but the most af^reeable one is that of 
 .Madrid, 18(i2, 8vo, 2 torn. There is 
 an Knglish tran.slation by M. L., i)ub- 
 lished 1619, which I have never seen ; 
 
 Init from whicli I doubt not Fletcher 
 borrowed the materials for that part 
 of tlie Persiles which he has u.sed, or 
 rather abused, in his " Custom of the 
 Country," acted as early as 1628, but 
 not printed till 1647 ; the A'ery names 
 of the personages being sometimes the 
 .same. See Persiles, Book 1. c. 12 and 
 13 ; and compare Book II. c. 4 with 
 tin; English ])lay. Act IV. scene 3, and 
 Book III. c. 6, etc. with Act II. scene 
 4, etc. Sometimes we have almost 
 literal translations, like the follow- 
 ing : — 
 
 " Sois Ca.stellano ? " me pregiinto e.ii 
 su lengua Portugue.sa. " No, Sehora," 
 le respond! yo, "sino forastero, y bien 
 lejos de e.sta tieira." " Pues aunque 
 fuerades mil veees Ca.stellano," replico 
 ella, "os librara yo, si jnidiei'a, y os 
 librare si puedo ; subid ]>or cima deste 
 lecho, y entraos deba.xo de este tapiz, y 
 entraos en un hueco que aqui hallareis, 
 y no OS movais, que si la justicia vi- 
 niere, me tendni respeto, y creera lo 
 (|ue yo quisiere decides." Persiles, 
 Lib. ill. cap. 6. 
 
 In Fletcher we have it as follows : — 
 
 Giiioninr. \re you a Ciu«tilian ? 
 
 Hiitilin Xo, Miidiini : Italy cUiims my birtli. 
 
 (riii. I a.^ik not 
 With piirpiisi' to betray you. If you were 
 Ten thousand times a .Spaniard, the nation 
 AVe I'ortujfals most hate, 1 yet would save you, 
 If it lay in my power. Lift up these hanpngs; 
 Reliind my beil's head there 's a hollow place, 
 Into whicii enter. 
 
 [Kutilio retires behind the bed.
 
 CnAi'. XII.] TIIK I'KKSILKS AND SKJiyMUNDA. 159 
 
 to write a serious romance, which should l)e to this 
 species of composition what the Don Quixote is to 
 comic I'omance. So much, at least, may be inferred 
 from the manner in which it is spoken of In' himself 
 and by his friends. For in the Dedication of the Sec- 
 ond Part of Don (Quixote he says, '• It will Ije either 
 the worst or the l)est book of amusement in the lan- 
 iTuao'e " : addino-, tliat his friends thouo-ht it a(hni- 
 rable ; and Valdivielso,'"^ after his death, said he had 
 equalled or surpassed in it all his former efforts. 
 
 But serious romantic fiction, which is peculiarly the 
 offspring of modern civilization, was not 3et far 
 enough developed to enable one like Cervantes to 
 obtain a high degree of success in it, especially as the 
 natural bent of his genius was to humorous fiction. 
 The imaginary travels of Lucian, three or four Greek 
 romances, and the romaTices of chivalry, were all he 
 had to guide him ; for anj'thing approaching nearer 
 to the proper modern novel than some of his own 
 tales had not yet been imagined. Perhaps his first 
 impulse was to write a romance of chivalry, modified 
 by the spirit of the age, and free from the absurdities 
 which abound in the romances that had been written 
 before his time.* But if he had such a thought, the 
 
 So; — but from this stir not. 8vo, Vol. XI. p. 239. The earlie.st 
 If the officers come, as you expect they will do, trniislation T TPinVrnViPV to lvivt> '^I'cii o)' 
 I knowthev owe such reverence to my lodgings, "ai'^iation 1 lemeniDtl to liaM S( ( 11 01 
 That they will easily give credit to me the Peisile.s and blgismunda is 111 I" reiicll 
 And .-iearch no further. hy Fmii(;ois de Ro.ssot, Paris, It!] S ; hut 
 Act II. So. 4. ^jjg ^pg|- jg j^jj anoii_vmou.s one in tlie 
 Other parallel passages might he pure.st English, (London, 1854,) under- 
 cited ; but it should not be forgotten, stood to be by Miss L. D. Stanley ; but 
 that there is one striking difference be- in which a good many passages, are 
 tween the two ; for that, whcn^a-s the omitted, ex. gr. Book III. Chaps. VI., 
 Persiles is a l)ook of great purity of VI 1., VI II., etc. I have also an Ital- 
 thought and feeling, "The Custom of ian one by Francesco Ella, ijrinted at 
 the Country" is one of the most inde- Venice, 1626. 
 
 cent plays in the language ; so inde- ^ In the A|irobacion, dated Septein- 
 
 eent, indeed, that Diyden rather boldly ber 9, 1616, ed. 1802, Tom. I. p. vii. 
 
 says it is worse in this particular than * This may be fairly suspected from 
 
 all his own jilays put together. Dry- the beginning of the 48th chapter of 
 
 den's Works, Scott's ed., l^ondon, 1808, the First I'art of Don Quixote.
 
 160 THE PERSILES AXD SIGISMUNDA. [PEiaoD IL 
 
 success of his own Don Quixote almost necessarily 
 prevented him from attempting to put it in execution. 
 He therefore looked rather to the Greek romances, 
 and. as I'ai' as he used any model, took the '* Theage- 
 
 nes and Chariclea " of Ileliodorus/' He calls 
 * 135 what he produced "A * Northern Romance." 
 
 and makes its princi])al storv consist of the 
 sufferinjxs of Persiles and Sio'isnnnida. — the lirst the 
 son of a king of Iceland ; the second the daughter of 
 a king of Friesland, — laying the scene of one half 
 of his fiction in the North of Europe, and that of tlic^ 
 other half in the South. lie has some faint ideas of 
 the sea-kings and pirates of the Northern Ocean, hut 
 very little of the geography of the countries that pro- 
 duced them ; and as for his savage men and frozen 
 islands, and the wild and strange adventures he ima- 
 gines to have passed among them, nothing can he 
 more fantastic and incredi))le. 
 
 In Portugal, Spain, and Italy, through which his 
 hero and heroine — disguised as thev are from first ta 
 last . under the names of Periandro and Auristela — 
 make a pilgrimage to Rome, we get rid of most of the 
 extravagances which deform the earlier portion of the 
 romance. The whole, however, consists of a lahyrinth 
 of tales, sliowing, indeed, an imagination quite aston- 
 
 ^ Once lu' intimates that it is a trans- soon appeared in Spain. The iirst is 
 
 lation, but does not say from what Ian- the " llistoiia >\v Uiixilito y Aniinta " 
 
 {(uage. (See opening of Book II.) An of Franeisco de (i)uintana, (Madrid, 
 
 acute and elegant critic of our own 1627, 4to, ) divith^d into eight books, 
 
 time says, " Des naufrages, des deserts, witli a good deal of ])oetry intermixed, 
 
 des descentes par mer, et des ravi.sse- Tlie otlier is " Eustorgio y Cloiilene, 
 
 nients, c'e.st done toujours jjIus ou llistoria Mositovica," by Enri(|ue Sua- 
 
 inoins I'ancien ronian d'Heliodore." rez ile .Mendoza y Figueroa, (n)29,) in 
 
 (Sainte Beuve, C'nti(|ue.s, Paiis, 1839, thirteen book.s, with a hint of a con- 
 
 8vo, Tom. IV. p. 173.) These words tiiniatioii ; Init my copy was printed 
 
 describe more than half of the Pensiles f"arago(;a, 166.5, 4to. Both are writ- 
 
 and Sigisnuinda. Two imitations of ten in bad taste, and have no value 
 
 the Persiles, or, at any rate, two imi- as fictions. The latter seems to have 
 
 tations of the Greek romance which been plainly suggested by the Per- 
 
 wa.s the chief model of the, Persiles, siles.
 
 I'uAr. XII. J Till-: DOX QUIXOTE. 161 
 
 ishiiig in an old man like Cervantes, already past his 
 grand climacteric, — a man, too, who might be snp- 
 posed to be ])i-oken down by sore calamities and in- 
 cnrable disease ; l)iit it is a laljyrintli from which we 
 are glad to be extricated, and we feel relieved when 
 the labors and trials of his Persiles and Sigisnumda are 
 over, and when, the obstacles to their love being re- 
 moved, they are happily united at Rome. No doubt, 
 amidst the multitude of separate stories with which 
 this wild work is crowded, several are graceful in them- 
 selves, and others are interesting because they con- 
 tain traces of Cervantes's experience of life,*^ 
 while, * through the whole, his style is more * 136 
 carefully finished, perhaps, than in any other 
 of his works. But, after all, it is fjir from being what 
 he and his friends fimcied it was, — a model of this 
 peculiar style of fiction, and the best of his efforts. 
 
 This honor, if we may trust the uniform testimony 
 of two centuries, belongs, beyond question, to his Don 
 Quixote, — the work which, above all others, not 
 merely of his own age, but of all modern times, bears 
 most deeply the impression of the national character it 
 represents, and has, therefore, in return, enjoyed a de- 
 gree and extent of national favor never granted to any 
 other." When Cervantes began to write it is wholly 
 
 ^ From the begimiiug of Book III., tiling else he wrote, we meet iiitima- 
 
 we find that the action of Persiles and tions and passages from his own life. 
 
 Sigisnumda is laid in the time of Philip Persiles and Sigisnumda, after all, was 
 
 II. or Philip III., when there was a the most immediately snccessful of any 
 
 Spanish viceroy in Lisbon, and the of the works of Cervantes. Kight edi"- 
 
 travels of the hero and heroine in the tions of it appeared in two years, and 
 
 Sonth of Spain and Italy seem to he, it was translated into Italian, French, 
 
 in fact, Cervantes's own recollections of and Knglish, between 1618 and 1(526. 
 the join-ney he made throngh the same '^ My own experience in Sjiain fully 
 
 countries in his youth ; while CHiapters corroborates the suggestion of Inglis, in 
 
 10 and 11 of P>ook III. show bitter his very pleasant book, (Kamliles in the 
 
 traces of his Algerine captivity. His Footstejisof Don Qui.xote, London, 18:37, 
 
 familiarity with Portugal, as .seen in 8 vo, p. 26, ) that "no Spaniard is entirely 
 
 this work, should also be noticed. ignorant of Cervantes." At least, none 
 
 Frequently, indeed, as in almost every- I ever questioned on the subject — and 
 
 vol.. 11. 11
 
 162 WHY CEKYANTES WKOTE DON QUIXOTE. [I'iiuiuD II. 
 
 uncertain. For twenty years precedin«j: the a])])ear- 
 an;e of the First Part he printed ahnost nothing;^ 
 and the little we know ol' him dnring that long and 
 dreary period of his life shows only how he obtained a 
 hard subsistence for himself and his family by common 
 business agencies, which, we have reason to suppose, 
 were generally of trilling importance, and which, we 
 are sure, were sometimes distressing in their conse- 
 C[uences. The tradition, thercfoic. of his ptM'secutions 
 in La Mancha, and his own averment that the Don 
 Quixote was begun in a prison, are all the hints we 
 have received concerning the circumstances under 
 which it was first imagined ; and that such circum- 
 stances should have tended to such a result is a strik- 
 ing fact in the history, not only of Cervantes, 
 * 137 but of * the human mind, juid shows how difter- 
 ent was his temperament from that commonly 
 found in men of genius. 
 
 His purpose in writing the Don Quixote has some- 
 times been enlarged by the ingenuity of a refined 
 criticism, until it has been made to embrace the 
 whole of the endless contrast between the poetical 
 and the prosaic m our natures, — between lierolsm 
 and generosity on one side, as if the}^ were mere illu- 
 sions, and a cold selfishness on the other, as if it were 
 the truth and reality of life.^ But this is a meta- 
 physical conclusion drawn from views of the work 
 
 t]i(.'ir iimiiljcr was great in the lower scciiis to have Ikhmi wliolly occu])ieil in 
 comlitions of society — seemed to be iiainful struggles to secure a subsist- 
 entirely ignorant what sort of persons ence. 
 
 were Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. ^ 'I'his idea is found jiavtly developed 
 
 ** He felt this himself as a dreary in- by Houteiwek, (('esehichte der Poesie 
 
 terval in his life, for he says in his und IJercdsanikeit, (iottingen, 1S03, 
 
 Prologo : "Al cabo de tantos anos co- 8vo, Tom. HI. ])p. ;}3.t - 337,) :inil fully 
 
 mo lia, (jue dueiino en el silencio del set forth and defeuih'(l by Sismondi, 
 
 olvido," etc. In fact, from l.')84 till with liis accustomeil elfxiuence. Lit- 
 
 1605 he liad printed nothing ex(;ept a teratun- du Midi dc 1' Europe, Paris, 
 
 few short poems of little value, and 1S13, Svo, Tom. HI. i)}). 331) -343.
 
 LiiAP. XII.] WIIV CEP.VANTES WROTE DON QUIXOTE. 163 
 
 iit once inipcM't'cct ami exaggeratcHl ; contrary to the 
 spirit of the age, which was not given to a satire so 
 philosophical and generalizing, and contrary to the 
 character of Cervantes himself, as we follow it from 
 the time when he first became a soldier, through all 
 his trials in Algiers, and down to the moment when 
 his warm and trusting heart dictated the Dedication 
 of " Persiles and Sigismunda " to the Count de Lemos. 
 His whole spirit, indeed, seems rather to have been 
 filled with a cheerful confidence in human virtue, and 
 his whole bearing in life seems to have been a con- 
 tradiction to that discouraging and saddening scorn 
 for whatever is elevated and generous, which such 
 an interpretation of the Don Quixote necessarily 
 implies.^*^ 
 
 Nor does he himself permit us to give to his ro- 
 mance any such secret meaning ; for, at the very 
 beginning of the work, he announces it to be his 
 sole purpose to break down the vogue and authority 
 of~ books or~chivairy^ and, at the end of the whole, 
 he declares anew, in his own person, that "he had 
 had no other desire than to render abhorred of men the 
 false and absurd stories contained in books of 
 chivalry " ; ^^ exulting * in his success, as an * 138 
 
 1° Many other interpretations have y en el vulgo tienen los libros de Cabal- 
 been given to the Don Quixote. One lerias " ; and he end.s the Second Part, 
 of the most ab.surd i.s that of Daniel ten year.s afterwards, with these I'e- 
 De Foe, who declares it to be "an em- markable words : "iVo Im sido ot.ro vri 
 blematic history of, and a just satire deseo, que poner en aborrecimiento de 
 upon, the Duke de Medina Sidonia, a los hombres las fingidas y disparatadas 
 person very remarkable at that time in historias de los libros de Caballerias, 
 Spain." (Wilson's Life of De Foe, que por las de mi verdadero Don Quix- 
 London, 1830, 8vo, Vol. III. p. 437, ote van ya tropezando, y han de caer 
 rote.) The "Buscapie" — if there ever del todo sin duda alguna. Vale." It 
 was such a publication — pretended that seems really hard that a gi-ear man's 
 it set forth "some of the undertakings word of honor should thus be called in 
 and gallantries of the Emperor Charles ([uestion by the spirit of an over-refined 
 V." See Appendix (D). criticism, two centuries after his death. 
 
 11 In the Prologo to the First Part, D. Vicente Salva has partly, but not 
 
 he says, "No ■mira d mas que a deshacer wholly, avoided this difficulty in an in- 
 
 la autoridad y cabida, que en el niundo genions and pleasant essay on the ques-
 
 104 
 
 WITY CERVANTES WROTE DON QUIXOTE. [Peuiod II, 
 
 achicvi'iiicnt of no siiiiill inoineiit. And siicli. in 
 Diet, it was, for we lia\e al)Lindant proof that tlie 
 fanaticism i'or these romances was so great in Sj^ain, 
 (luring the sixteenth century, as to have become 
 matter of ahirm to the more judicious. Many of 
 the distinguished contemporary authors speak of its 
 miscliiefs and anujng the rest Fernandez de Oviedo, the 
 venerable Luis de Granada, Luis de Leon, Luis Vives, 
 the great scholar, and Malon de Chaide, who wrote 
 the eloquent '• Conversion of Mary Magdalen." ^ 
 Guevara, the learned and fortunate courtier of 
 Charles the Fifth, declares that " men did read 
 nothing in his time Init such shameful books as 
 " Amadis de Gaula,' ' Tristan,' ' Primaleon,' and the 
 like " ; ^^ the acute author of '^ The I)ialoo;ue on 
 Languages " says that " the ten years he passed at 
 court he wasted in studying ' Florisando,' ' Lisuarte,' 
 ^ The Knight of the Cross,' and other such books, 
 more than he can name " ; ^^ and from different 
 
 tion, "Wliether the Don Quixote has 
 yet been jiidgedacconling to its nieiits" ; 
 — in wliich he maintains that Cervan- 
 tes did not intend to satirize the sub- 
 stance and essence of books of cliivah-y, 
 but only to puif(e away their alisurdi- 
 ties and iiiijiiobabilities ; and tliat, after 
 all, he has given us substantially only 
 another romance of the same class, 
 which has ruined the fortunes of all its 
 predecessors bj' being itself immensely 
 in advance of them all. Ochoa, Ajmn- 
 tes para una liiblioteca, Paris, 1S42, 
 8vo, Tom. n. ].p. 723-740. 
 
 ^ See Oviedo, Hist. Ceneral y Natu- 
 ral de la.s India.s, Eil. Kios, Torn. I. 
 1851, p. xxix. Simbolu de la Fe, Parte 
 II. cap. 17, near the end. J. P. For- 
 ner, Keflexiones, etc., 1786, ])]•. 32-3.'). 
 Conversion de la Mag<laleiia, 1.592, Pn')- 
 logo al Letor. All live are strong in 
 thi'ir censures ; a7id to thein may lie 
 added .luaii Sanchez Valdi-s de la Plata, 
 who in till- Prologo to his "Clironita 
 del Hombre" (folio, 1.595), — a book 
 yiacked full nf cnule learning on the 
 destiny of man, his powers and his in- 
 
 ventions, — saj's, that "young men and 
 girl.s, and even tho.se of rijie age and 
 estate, do wa.ste their time in reading 
 books which with truth may be called 
 sermon -books of Satan, full of debili- 
 tating vanities and l)lazonries of the 
 knighthoods of the Amadises and Es- 
 plandians, with the rest of their crew, 
 from which neither jiroht nor doctrine 
 can be gathered, but such as makes 
 theii- thoughts the abode of lies and 
 false fancies, which is a thing the Devil 
 doth much covet." It should be no- 
 tic:ed, however, that Nicolas Antonio 
 at the end of the .seventeenth century 
 was by no means willing to give up books 
 of chivalrv. See Preface to IJibliotheca 
 Nova, § 27 . 
 
 I'* " Vemos, que }'a no se ocupan los 
 honibres sino en leer libios que cs af- 
 frenta mmibrarlos, como son Amailis de 
 (iaula, Tristan de Leonis, Primaleon," 
 etc. Argument to the Aviso de Priva- 
 df)s, Obras de Ant. de Guevara, Valla- 
 dolid, 1545, folio, f. clviii, b. 
 
 ^* The jiassage is too long to be con- 
 veniently cited, but it is very severe.
 
 Cir\i'. XII.] WHY CEIIVANTES WROTE DON QUIXOTE. 
 
 IG-J 
 
 sources we *'kiiow, what, indeed, we m{>y * 139 
 gather from Cervantes hhnself, that many 
 who read these fictions took them for true histo- 
 ries.^^ At last they were deemed so noxious, that, 
 in 1553, they were prohibited by hiw from being 
 printed or sold in the American colonies, and in 
 15^55" the same prohibition, and even the burning 
 of all copies of them extant in Spain itself, was 
 earnestly asked for by the Cortes.^*^ The evil, in 
 fjxct, had become formidable, and the wise began to 
 see it. 
 
 To destroy a passion that had struck its roots so 
 deeply in the character of all classes of men,^' to break 
 up the only reading which at that time could be con- 
 sidered widely popular and fashionable,^*^ was certainly- 
 
 See Mcayans v Siscar, Origenes, Tom. 
 II. pp. 157, 158. 
 
 15 See ante. Vol. I. pp. 223-226. 
 But, besides what is .said there, Fran- 
 cisecf de Portugal, who died in 1632, 
 tells us in his "Arte de Galanteria," 
 (Lisboa, 1670, 4to, p. 96,) that Simon 
 de Silveira (I suppo.se the Portuguese 
 poet who lived about 1500, Barbosa, 
 Tom. III. p. 722) once swore upon 
 the Evangelists, tliat he believed the 
 whole of the Amadis to be true his- 
 tory. 
 
 I'' Clemencin, in the Preface to his 
 edition of Don Quixote, Tom. I. pp. 
 xi-xvi, cites many other proofs of the 
 ])assiou for books of chivalry at that 
 jjcriod in Spain ; adding a reference to 
 the " Recopilacion de Leyes de las In- 
 dias," Lib. I. Tit. 24, Ley 4, for the 
 law of 1553, and printing at length the 
 very curious petition of the Cortes of 
 1555, which I have not .seen anywhere 
 else, except in the official publication 
 of the "Capitulos y Leyes," (Vallado- 
 lid, 1558, fol. Iv, b, ) and which would 
 probably have produced the law it de- 
 manded, if the abdication of the Em- 
 peror, the same year, had not prevented 
 all action upon the matter. 
 
 1'' Allusions to the fanaticism of the 
 lower classes on the subjci't of liooks 
 of chivalry are happily introduced into 
 
 Don Quixote, Parte I. c. 32, and in 
 other places. It extended, too, to thos(! 
 better bred and informed. Francisco 
 de Portugal, in the "Arte de Galante- 
 ria," cited in a preceding note, and 
 written before 1632, tells the following 
 anecdote : " A knight came home on(; 
 day from the chase and found his wife 
 and daughters and their women crying. 
 Surprised and grieved, he asked them if 
 any child or relation were dead. ' No,' 
 they answered, suttbcated with tears. 
 ' Why, then, do you weep so ? ' he re- 
 joined, still more amazed. 'Sir,' they 
 replied, 'Amadis is dead.' They had 
 read .so far." p. 96. 
 
 ^^ Cervantes himself, as his Don 
 Quixote amply proves, must, at some 
 period of his life, have been a devoted 
 reader of the romances of chivalry. 
 How minute and exact his knowledge 
 of them was may be seen, among other 
 passages, from one at the end of the 
 twentieth chapter of Part First, where, 
 S[>eaking of Ga.sabal, the esipiire of Ga- 
 laor, he observes that his name is men- 
 tioned but once in the history of Amadis 
 of Gaul ; — a fact which the indefatiga- 
 ble Mr. Bowie took the pains to verify, 
 when reading that huge romance. See 
 his "Letter to Dr. I'ercy, on a New 
 and Classical Edition of Don Quixote," 
 London, 1777, 4to, p. 25.
 
 166 FIRST PART OF THE DON QUIXOTE. [Peiiiod II. 
 
 u bold uiulertakiuci^, and one that marks anvthino; 
 rather than a scoi-iii"id oi- l)roken spirit, or a want of 
 faith in wliat is most to be valued in our common 
 iTature. The great wonder is, that Cervantes 
 * 140 succeeded. But that he did, there is no * ques- 
 tion. JS^o bo ok of chivalry was written after 
 the appearance of Don Quixote,, in 160-3; and from the 
 same date, even those already enjoying the greatest 
 favor ceased, with one or two unimportant exceptions, 
 to be reprinted ; ^^ so that, from that time to the 
 present, they have been constantly disappearing, until 
 they are now among the rarest of literary curiosities ; 
 — a solitary instance of the power of genius to destroy, 
 by a single well-timed blow, an entire department, and 
 that, too, a flourishing and favored one, in the litera- 
 ture of a great and proud nation. 
 
 The general plan Cervantes adopted to accomplish 
 this object, without, perhaps, foreseeing its whole 
 course, and still less all its results, was simple as well 
 as original. In 160-3,-^' he pu])lislied the First Part of 
 Don Quixote, in which a country gentleman of La 
 Mancha — full of o-enuinc Castilian honor and enthu- 
 siasm, gentle and dignified in his character, trusted by 
 
 ^^ In tlie comjueiitary of Faria y iiiaik of Ck-moiicin, liowevcv, there are 
 Sousa on the Lusiad, 1637, (Canto VI. exceptions. For instance, the " Genea- 
 fol. 138,) he says already that in conse- logia tie la Toledana Discreta, Priniera 
 (|U(.'nce of the pnlilication of the Don Parte," por Eugenio Maitinez, a tale of 
 Qnixote, books of chivalry "no .son chivalry in octave stanzas, not ill writ- 
 tan leidos"; and in a dedication to the ten, was reprinted in 1608; and "HI 
 Madrid edition of that work, 1668, we ('a])allero del Fcbo," and " Claridiano." 
 are told that its ])revious repeated ini- his son, are extant in editions of 1617. 
 ])ressions " han (ksfermdo los libros de Tiie period of the passion for .such books 
 caballerias tan perjudiciales a las cos- in Spain can be leadily seen in the Bib- 
 tunibres." Navarrete, jjp. 500, 502. liograjihical Catalogue, and notices of' 
 Cleniencin, moreover, and finally in his them by Salvd, in the Kepertorio Amer- 
 Preface, 1833, notes "I). Folicisiie de icano, "(London, 1827, Tom. IV. pp. 
 Boecia," i)rinted in 1602, as the last 29-74,) and .still better in the Cata- 
 book of cliivaliy that was written in logue ])retixc(l by Gayangos to Riva- 
 Sfjain, anil adds, that, after 160."), "vw deneyra's I'iblioteca, Tom. XL. 1857. 
 .sc piiblic6 de nuevo libro alguno de It was eminently tlie sixteenth cen- 
 <;aballerifus, y (lejaron (h reiTuprimirse tury. 
 los anteriores" (p. xxi). To this re- ^ See Appendix (E),
 
 (•hai>. XJI.] FIKST TAKT OF THE DON QUIXOTE. 1G7 
 
 his friends, and loved by his dependants — is repr-e- 
 sented as so completely crazed by long reading the 
 most famons books of chivalry, that he believes them 
 to be true, and feels himself called on to become the 
 impossible knight-errant they describe, — nay, actually 
 goes forth into the world to defend the op])ressed and 
 avenge the injured, like the heroes of his romances. 
 
 To complete his chivalrous equipment — which he 
 had begun by fitting up for himself a suit of armor 
 strange to his century — he took an esquire out of his 
 neighborhood; a middle-aged peasant, ignorant and\^^ 
 credulous to excess, but oF^great good-nai^crre ; a glut- 
 ton a nd ajiar; selfish and grosSj^yet attached to his 
 master; shrewd enough occasionally to see the 
 folly of their position, but always * amusing, * 141 
 and sometimes mischievous, in his interpreta- 
 tions of it. These two sally forth from their native 
 village in search of adventures, of which the excited 
 imagination of the knig-ht, turnins; windmills into 
 giants, solitary inns into castles, and galley-slaves into K 
 oppressed gentlemen, finds abundance, wherever he 
 goes ; while the esquire translates them all into the 
 plain prose of truth with an admirable simplicity, quite 
 unconscious of its own humor, and rendered the more 
 striking by its contrast with the lofty and courteous 
 dignity and magnificent illusions of the superior per- 
 sonage. There could, of course, be but one consistent 
 termination to adventures like these. The knight and 
 his esquire suffer a series of ridiculous discomfitures, 
 and are at last brought home, like madmen, to their 
 native village, where Cervantes leaves them, with an. 
 intimation that the story of their adventures is by no 
 means ended. 
 
 From this time we hear little of Cervantes and
 
 168 CEllVANTES A\D A's'KLLANEDA. [Pkiimd 11. 
 
 iiothiii<»; of his hero, till eight years tifterwards^ in 
 July, IGlo, when he wrote the Prefjice to his Tales, 
 where lie distinctly annomices a Second Tart of Don 
 Quixote* But hefore this Second Part could be pu))- 
 lished, and, indeed, before it was finished, a pei^son 
 calling; himself Alonso Fernandez de Avellaneda, who 
 seems, from some provnicialisms in his style, to have 
 been an Aragonese, and who, from other internal 
 evidence, was a Dominican monk, came out, in the 
 summer of 1614, with what he impertinently called 
 ^' The Second Volume of the Ingenious Knight, Don 
 
 Quixote de la Mancha."-^ 
 * 142 * Two things are remarkable in relation to 
 ■ this book. The first is, that, though it is 
 hardly possible its author's name should not have 
 been known to many, and especially to Cervantes 
 himself, still it is only by strong conjecture that it 
 has been often assigned to Luis de Aliaga, the king's 
 confessor, a person whom, from his influence at court, 
 it might not have been deemed expedient openly 
 to attack ; ])ut sometimes also to Juan Blanco de 
 Paz. a Dominican friar, who had l)een an enemy of 
 Cervantes in Algiers. The second is, that the author 
 
 ■•^1 Cervantes leproadies Avellaneda I have. There are editions of it, Ma- 
 
 with being au Aragonese, because he ilrid, 1732, 180.'), and 1851 ; and a 
 
 sometinies omits the article where a translation by Le Sage, 1704, in which 
 
 Oastilian would insert it. (Don Quix- — after his niann(a' of translating — he 
 
 ote, I'arte II. e. .lit.) The rest of tli(^ alters and enlarges the original work 
 
 <lis(;nssion about him is found in Pelli- with little ceremony or good faith. 
 <;er, Vida, jij). civi-clxv; in Navar- It may be worth while to note here, 
 
 rete, Vida, [)\>. 14,4-l.'il ; in Clemen- that, when Pope, in Ids " Es.say on 
 
 <;in's Don Quixote, I'arte II. c. ,^>9, Criticism," (267, etc., beginning, "Once 
 
 notes; and in Adolfo de (Jastro's " Con- on a time La Mancha's knight, they 
 
 •<Ie Duijue de Olivares," ("adiz, 1846, say,") tells a story about Don (^hiixote, 
 
 8vo, j>i>. 11, etc. This Avellaneda, lie refcn-s, not to the work of Cervantes, 
 
 •A^hoever he was, called his book " Sr- l>ut to that of Avellaneda, and of Avel- 
 
 {/viidfi Toiuo del I ngenioso Hidalgo Don laneda in the rifn^ime^itrt of Le Sage, 
 
 ■Quixote de la Mancha," etc;., (Tarrago- I>iv. III. chap. 29. Persons familiar 
 
 iia, 1614, 12ino,)and |)rinted it .so that with Orvantes are oftAi di.saj)point(!d 
 
 it matches very well with the Valencian that they do not recollect it, thinking 
 
 •'•ditioii, 1<)(t.'j, f»f (he Fir.^t Part of tin' tliat the reference must be to his Don 
 
 ^genuine Don Quixote ; - both of which Quixote.
 
 CiiAi-. XII.] CERVANTES AND AVELLANEDA. 1G9 
 
 seems to have had liints of the plan Cervantes was 
 pursuing in his Second Part, then unfinished, and to 
 have used them in an unworthy manner, especially 
 in making Don Alvaro Tarfe play substantially the 
 same part that is played by the Duke and Duchess 
 towards Don Quixote, and in carrying the knight 
 through an adventure at an inn with play-actors 
 rehearsing one of Lope de Vega's di-amas, almost 
 exactly like the adventure with the puppet-show 
 man so admirably imagined by Cervantes.^'^ 
 
 But this is all that can interest us about the Ijook, 
 which, if not without merit in some respects, is gen- 
 erally low and dull, and would now be forgotten, if 
 it were not connected with the fame of Don Quixote. 
 In its Prefoce, Cervantes is treated Avith coarse indig- 
 nity, his age, his sufferings, and even his honorable 
 wounds being sneered at;" and in the body of the 
 book, the character of Don Quixote, who appears as 
 a vulgar madman, fancying himself to be Achilles, 
 or any other character that happened to occur to the 
 author,^^ is so comj^letely without dignity or 
 consistency, * that it is clear the writer did * 143 
 not possess the power of comprehending the 
 
 '^^ Avellanetla, c. 26. There is a much 2* Chapter 8; — just as he makes 
 
 ViettertraiLslation than Le Sage's, by Ger- Don Quixote fancy a j)oor ])easant iu 
 
 mond de Lavigne, (Paris, 1853, 8vo, ) his melon -garden to be Orlando Furio.so 
 
 with an acute pref ice and notes, partly (c. 6); — a little village to be Ronu; 
 
 intended to rehabilitate Avellaneda. (c 7); — and its decent priest alter- 
 
 Fr. Luis de Aliaga was, at one time, nately Lirgando and the Archbishop 
 
 Inrjui-sitor-General, andaper.sonof great Tnrpin. Perhaps the most oV)vious 
 
 politi(;al considei'ation ; but he resigned comparison, and the fairest that cau 
 
 his i)lace or was disgraced in the reign be made, between the two Don Quix- 
 
 of Philip IV., and died in exile shortly otes is in the story of the goats, told 
 
 afterward.s, December 3, 162(3. He fig- by Sancho in the twentieth chapter of 
 
 ures in Quevedo's "Grandes Anales de the First Part in Cervantes, and the 
 
 Quince Dias." Ample notices of him story of the geese, by Sancho in Avel- 
 
 may be found in the Kevista de ("iencias, laneda's twenty-first chaptei', because 
 
 etc., Sevilla, 1856, Tom. III. pj). 6, 74, the latter profes.ses to improve upon 
 
 etc. SeealsoLata.ssa, Piib.Nov., III.376. the former. The failure to do so, how- 
 
 23 "Tiene mas lengua que mauos," ever, is obvious enough, 
 says Avellaneda, coarsely.
 
 170 CERVANTES AND AVELLANEDA. [PEUim. II. 
 
 genius he at once basely libelled and meanly at- 
 tempted to supplant. The best parts of the work 
 -^■L^are those in which Sancho is introduced ; the worst 
 •' are its indecent stories and the adventures of Bar- 
 bara, who is a sort of brutal caricature of the grace- 
 ful Dorothea, and whom the knio-lit mistakes for 
 Queen Zenobia.^^ But it is almost always Aveari- 
 .^ome, and comes to a poor conclusion by the con- 
 iinement of Don Quixote in a madhouse."*' 
 
 Cervantes evidently did not receive this affront- 
 ing production mitil he was ftir advanced in the 
 composition of his Second Part ; but in the fifty- 
 ninth chapter, written apparently when it first 
 reached him, he breaks out upon it. and from that 
 moment never ceases to persecute it. in every form 
 of ingenious torture, initil, with the seventy-fourth, 
 he brino^s his own work to its conclusion. Even 
 Sancho, with his accustomed humor and simplicity, 
 is let loose upon the unhappy Aragonese; for, hav-- 
 ing understood from a chance traveller, who first 
 brings the book to their knowledge, that his wife is 
 called in it Mary Gutierrez, instead of Teresa Pan- 
 za, — 
 
 " ' A pretty sort of a history-writer.' cried Sancho. 
 * and a deal must he know of our afftiirs, if he calls 
 Teresa Panza, my wife, Mary Gutierrez. Take the 
 book again. Sir, and see if I am put into it, and if 
 he has changed my name, too.' ' By what I hear 
 you say, my friend,' replied the stranger, ' 3'ou are, no 
 douljt, Sancho Panza, the esquire of Don Quixote.' 
 
 ■^ The wIioIp story of Barbara, be- man, to add two cha])tprs more to Don 
 
 giuiiiiig with C'liaptiT 22, and going Quixote, as if they liad been suppressed 
 
 nearly through the remainder of the when the Second Part was published, 
 
 work, is miserably coarse antl dull. But they were not thought worth print- 
 
 ^ In 1824, a curious attemj)! was ing by the Spanish Academy. See Don 
 
 made, probably by some ingenious Ger- Quixote, ed. Clemencin, Tom. VI. p. 296.
 
 Chap. XIl] CERVANTES AND AVELLANEDA. 171 
 
 • To be sure 1 tun,' * answered Sanclio, ' and * 1-1-i 
 proud of it too.' • Then, in truth,' said the 
 gentleman, *= this new author does not treat you with 
 the propriety shown in your own person ; he makes 
 you a ghitton and a fool ; not at all amusinii:, and 
 quite another thing from the Sancho described in 
 the first part of your master's history.' 'Well, 
 Heaven foroive him ! ' said Sancho : ' but I think he 
 mio'lit have left me in my corner, without troubling 
 himself about me ; for, Let him pla// thai Jcnows the 
 ii:ay ; and Saint Peter at Rome is well of at home' " ^" 
 
 Stimulated by the appearance of this rival w^ork, 
 as well as offended Avitli its personalities, Cervantes 
 ui-ged forward his own, and, if we may judge by its 
 somewhat hurried air, brought it to a conclusion 
 sooner than he had intended.^^ At any rate, as 
 early as February, 1615, it w\as finished, and w^as 
 published in the following autumn ; after which we 
 hear nothing more of Avellaneda, though he had in- 
 timated his purpose to exhibit Don Quixote in an- 
 other series of adventures at Avila, Valladolid, and 
 Salamanca.^''' This, indeed, Cervantes took some pains 
 to prevent; for — besides a little changing his plan, 
 and avoiding the jousts at Saragossa, because Avel- 
 laneda had carried his hero there ^*^ — he finally re- 
 stores Don Quixote, through a severe illness, to his 
 right mind, and makes him renounce all the follies 
 of knight-errantry, and die, like a peaceful Christian, 
 in his own bed; — thus cutting off the po.ssibility of 
 another continuation with the pretensions of the first. 
 
 This latter half of Don Quixote is a contradiction of 
 
 27 Parte II. c. 59. of his being at Saragossa, he exclaim.s, 
 
 ** See Appemlix (E). " Por el mismo caso, no pondre los pies 
 
 "^ At the end of Cap. 36. en Zaragoza, y asi sacare a la plaza del 
 
 ^ When Don Quixote understands nnindo la mentira de.se historiador mo- 
 
 that Avellaneda has given an account derno." Parte II. c. 59.
 
 172 SECOND J>AKT OF THE DOX QUIXOTE. [Period II. 
 
 the proverb Cervantes cites in it, — that second parts 
 were never yet good for niuch.'^^ It is, in fact, better 
 than the first. It shows more freedom and vigor; 
 and if the caricature is sometimes pushed to the 
 
 very verge of what is permitted, the inven- 
 * 145 tion, the style of * thought, and, indeed, the 
 
 materials throughout, are richer and the finish 
 is more exact. The character of Sanson Carrasco, 
 for instance,^^ is a very happ^', though somewhat 
 })old, addition to the original persons of the drama ; 
 and the adventures at the castle of the Duke and 
 Duchess, where Don Quixote is fooled to the top of 
 his bent ; the managements of Sancho as governor 
 of his .island; the visions and dreams of the cave 
 of Montesinos ; the scenes with Roque Guinart, the 
 freebooter, and with Gines de Passamonte, the galley- 
 slave and puppet-show man ; together with the mock- 
 heroic hospitalities of Don Antonio Moreno at Barce- 
 lona, and the final defeat of the knight there, are 
 all admirable. In truth, everything in this Second 
 Part, especially its general outline and tone, shows 
 that time and a degree of success he had not before 
 known had ripened and perfected the strong manly 
 sense and sure insight into human nature which are 
 visible in nearlv all his works, and which here be- 
 come a part, as it were, of his peculiar genius, whose 
 foundations had been laid, dark and deep, amidst the 
 trials and sufferings of his various life. 
 
 ^1 It isoneofthe mischievous remarks blemishes. Garces, in his " Fuerza y • 
 
 of theBachelor Samson Carra.sco. Parte Vigor de la Lengua Castellana," Tom. 
 
 II. c. 4. II. Prologo, as \V(^11 as throughout that 
 
 ^ Don Quixote, Parte II. c. 4. The excellent work, has given it, perhajis, 
 
 style of both parts of the genuine Don more unifonu ]>raise than it deserves ; 
 
 Quixote is, as might be anticipated, ^ while ( 'Icmencin, in his notes, is verj 
 
 free, fresh, and careless; — genial, like rigorous and unpardoning to its occa- 
 
 the author's character, full of idiomatic sional defects, 
 beauties, and by no means without
 
 Chap. Xll.] SKCOND ]\VKT OF THE DON QUIXOTE. 1/3 
 
 But tlu'oiit^lioiit both parts, Cervantes shows the 
 impulses and instincts of an original power with most 
 distinctness in his development of the characters of 
 Don Quixote and Sancho, in whose fortunate contrast 
 and opposition is hidden the full spirit of his peculiar 
 humor, and no small part of what is most effective in 
 the entire fiction. They are his prominent personages. 
 He delights, therefore, to have them as much as possi- 
 ble in the front of his scene. They grow visibly upon 
 his favor as he advances, and the fondness of his liking 
 for them makes him constantly produce them in lights 
 and relations as little foreseen by himself as they are 
 by his readers. The knight, who seems to have 
 been * originally intended for aj^arody of the * 14G 
 Amadis, becomes gradually a detached, sepa- 
 rate, and wholly independent personage, into whom is 
 infused so much of a generous and elevated nature, 
 such gentleness and delicacy, such a pure sense of 
 honor, and such a warm love for whatever is noble and 
 good, that we feel almost the same attachment to him 
 that the barber and the curate did, and are almost as 
 ready as his familj^ was to mourn over his death.^ 
 
 The case of Sancho is again very similar, and per- 
 haps in some respects stronger. At first, he is intro- 
 duced as the opjDosite of Don Quixote, and used merel}' 
 to bring out his master's peculiarities in a more strik- 
 ing relief It is not until we have gone through 
 nearly half of the First Part that he utters one of 
 those proverbs which form afterwards the staple of his 
 conversation and humor ; ^^ and it is not till the open- 
 
 ^ Wordsworth in his "Prelude" And thought that, in the Wind and awful lair 
 
 Book v., says of Don Quixote, very Of such a u.adness, rea.son did lie couched, 
 strikingly :— 34 jj^ ^jof;, Qucvedo, in his " Cuento 
 
 Nor have I pitied him, but rather fell de Cuentos," ridiiulcd the free use of 
 
 Reverence was due to a being thus employed ; proverbs, not, however, 1 think, direct-
 
 174 SECOND PART OF THE DOX QUIXOTE. [l'i:i:ini) H. 
 
 . ing of the Second Part, and, indeed, not till he comes 
 fortli. in all his mingled shrewdness and crednlit}^, as 
 governor of Barataria, that his character is quite devel- 
 oped and completed to the full measure of its grotesque, 
 3'et congruous, proportions. 
 
 Cervantes, m truth, came at hist to love these crea- 
 tions of his marvellous power, as if they were real, 
 familiar personages, and to speak of them and treat 
 them with an earnestness and interest that tend nmch 
 to the illusion of his readers. "R oth Don-Q jgj-x.Qtj'. and 
 Sanclio are thus l)rou<ji:ht before us like such living: 
 -ji^ realities, that, at this moment, the figures of the crazed, 
 gaunt, dignified knight and of his round, selfish, and 
 most amusing esquire dwell bodied fortli in the imagi- 
 nations of more, among all conditions of men through- 
 out Christendom, than any other of the crea- 
 * 147 tions *of human talent. The greatest of the 
 great poets — Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, Mil- 
 ton — have no doubt risen to loftier heights, and 
 placed themselves in more imposing relations with the 
 noblest attributes of our nature ; but Cervantes — 
 always writing under the unchecked impulse of his own 
 genius, and instinctively concentrating in his fiction 
 whatever was peculiar to the character of his nation 
 — has shown himself of kindred to all times and all 
 lands ; to the humblest degrees of cidtivation as well 
 as to the highest ; and has thus, bej'ond all other 
 writers, received in return a tribute of sympathy and 
 admiration from the universal spirit of humanity.^ 
 
 ing his satire against tlie Don Quixote, ^ I niciiu hy this, that I tliink thou- 
 
 but ratlier against the absurd fashion sands of persons, the workl over, have 
 
 of liis time, just as Cervantes did. A notions of Don Quixote and his esquire, 
 
 rude answer to it, — " Vcnganza de hi and talk about "QuLxotism," "uiis- 
 
 Lengua Castellana," — attributed to Fr. cliicvous Sancho," etc., who yet never 
 
 Luis dc Aliaga, and first printecl, 1 be- liave read tlie romance of Cervantes, 
 
 lieve, in the same year, may be found in nor even know what it is. A different 
 
 the Seminario Erudito, Tom VI. p. 264. popular effect, and one wortliy the days
 
 Cii.u'. XII. 
 
 J)Kl'i;('T.S OF THE DOX QUIXOTE. 
 
 175 
 
 It is not easy to believe, that, Avhen he had linished 
 such a work, he was insensible to what he had done. 
 Indeed, there are passages in the Don Quixote itself 
 which prove a consciousness of his own genius, its aspi- 
 rations, and its power.^'' And yet there are, on the 
 other hand, carelessnesses, blemishes, and contradic- 
 tions scattered through it, which seem to show him to 
 have been almost indifferent to contemporary success 
 or posthumous fame. His plan, which he seems to 
 have modified more than once while engaged 
 * in the composition of the work, is loose and * 148 
 disjointed ; his style, though full of the richest 
 idiomatic_beauties, abounds with inaccuracies; and the 
 facts and incidents that make up his fiction are full of 
 anachronisms, which Los Rios, Pellicer, and Eximeno 
 have in vain endeavored to reconcile, either with the 
 main current of the story itself, or with one another.'^' 
 
 of Grecian enthusiasm, is noticed in 
 Kocca's " Memoirs of the War of tlie 
 French in Spain" (London, 1816, p. 
 110). He says, that when the body of 
 French troops to which lie was attached 
 entered Toboso, — perfectly answering, 
 he adds, the description of it bj'' Cer- 
 vantes, — they were so amused with the 
 fancies about Dulcinea and Don Quix- 
 ote, awakened by the place, that they 
 were, at once, on easy terms with its 
 inhabitants ; Cervantes becoming a 
 bond of good-fellowship, which not 
 only prevented the villagers from fly- 
 ing, as they commonly did in similar 
 cases, but led the soldiers to treat them 
 and their honres with unwonted respect. 
 So, 
 
 The great Emathian conqueror bid spare 
 
 The liouse of Pindarus, when temjile and tov/er 
 
 Went to the ground : and tlie repeated air 
 
 Of sad Electra's poet had the power 
 
 To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare. 
 
 * The concluding passages of the 
 work, for instance, are in this tone ; 
 and this is the tone of his criticisms on 
 Avellaneda. I do not count in the 
 same senSe the passage, in the S(!Cond 
 Part, c. 16, in which Don Quixote is 
 made to boast that thirty thousand 
 
 copies had been printed of the First 
 Part, and that thirty thou.sand thou- 
 sands would follow ; for this is intended 
 as the mere rhodomontade of the hero's 
 folly, or a jest at the pretensions set 
 up for Aleman's "Guzman de Alfa- 
 rache" (see ^ws^, C'hap. XXXIV., note 
 4) ; but I confess I think Cervantes is 
 somewhat in earnest when Ik? makes 
 Sancho say to his master, " I will lay 
 a wager, that, before long, there will 
 not be a two-penny eating-house, a 
 hedge tavern, or a poor inn, or barber's 
 shop, where the history of what we 
 liav(! done will not be painted and stuck 
 up." Parte II. c. 71. 
 
 ^■^ Los Rios, in his "Andlisis," pre- 
 fixed to the edition of the Academy, 
 1780, undertakes to defend Cervantes 
 on the authority of the ancients, as if 
 the Don Quixote were a poem, written 
 in imitation of the Odyssey. Pellicei-, 
 in the fourth section of his "Discurso 
 Preliminar " to his edition of Don 
 Quixote, 1797, follows much the same 
 course ; besides which, iit the end of 
 the fifth volume, he gives what he 
 gravely calls a " Geogra])hieo-liistorical 
 Description of the Travels of Don (^>uix- 
 ote," accompanied with a map ; as if
 
 176 
 
 DEFECTS OF THE DON QUIXOTE. [Pekiod J I. 
 
 Thus, in the First Part, Don Quixote is geuerally 
 represented us helonging to a remote age, and his 
 liistory is sujoposed to liave been written by an ancient 
 
 Arabian author r"^ while, in the examination 
 * 149 of his hbrary, he is * plainly contemporary 
 
 with Cervantes himself, and, after his defeats, is 
 
 some of Cervantes's geo^ra])hy were not 
 iinijossible, and as if half his localities 
 were to be found anywhere but in the 
 imaginations of liis readers. On the 
 ground of such irregularities in his 
 geograjihy, and on other gi'ounds e([ual- 
 ly absurd, Xieholas Perez, a Valencian, 
 attacked Cervantes in the " Auti-(^)uix- 
 ote," the tirst volume of which was 
 published in 1805, but was followed by 
 none of the five that were intended to 
 complete it ; and received an answer, 
 (piite satisfactory, but more severe than 
 was needful, in a pamphlet, publishetl 
 at Madrid in 180C, 12mo, by J. A. 
 Pellicer, without his name, entitled 
 " Exanien Critico del Tomo Primero 
 de el Anti-Quixote." And finally, Don 
 Antonio Eximeno, in his "Apologia de 
 Miguel de Cervantes," (Madrid, 1806, 
 12mo, ) excuses or defends everything 
 in th(> Don Quixote, giving us a new 
 chronologic'al plan, (p. 60,) with exact 
 astronomic'al reckonings, (j). 129,) and 
 maintaining, among other wise posi- 
 tions, that Cervantes i atcntionall ij rep- 
 resented Don Quixote to have lived 
 both in an earlier age and in his own 
 time, in order that curious readers might 
 lie confounded, and, after all, m\\\ some 
 imaginary period be; a.ssigned to his 
 hei-o's a('hievements (p]). 19, (!tc.). All 
 this, I think, is eminently absurd ; but 
 it is the consequence of the blind admi- 
 ration with which Cei-vaiit(^s was idol- 
 ized in Spain during the latter ])art of 
 the last centuiy and the beginning of 
 the present ; — itself partly a result of 
 the coldness with which he had been 
 overlooked by the learnecl of his coun- 
 trymen for nearly a century previous to 
 that period. Don Quixote, Madrid, 
 1819, 8vo, Pr61ogo de la Academia, 
 
 P-J3]- 
 
 ^ Conde, the author of the " Domi- 
 nacion de los Arabes en Kspaha," uniler- 
 takes, in a pamphlet published in con- 
 junction with J. A. I^'llicer, to .show 
 ^hat the name of this pretended Arabic 
 
 author, Cid Uametc Bcncngcli, is a com- 
 bination of Arabic words, meaning //-/- 
 hlc, satirical, and unluippij. (Carta en 
 Ca.stellano, etc., IMadrid, ' 1 800, 12mo, 
 pp. 16-27.) It may be so ; but it is 
 not in character for Cervantes to .seek 
 such refinements, or to make such a 
 display of his little learning, which does 
 not seem to have extended beyond a 
 knowledge of the Anilgar Arabic sjioken 
 in Barbary, the Latin, the Italian, and 
 the Portuguese. Like Shakes]>eare, 
 however, Cervantes had read and re- 
 membered nearly all that had been 
 ])rinted in his own language, and con- 
 stantly makes the most felicitous allu- 
 .sions to the large stoi-es of his knowl- 
 edge of this soit. 
 
 Clemencin, howevei', sometimes seems 
 willing to extenil the learned reading 
 of Cervantes further than is neces.saiT. 
 Thus (Don Quixote, Tom. III. p. l:32^ 
 he Ihinks the Discourse of the Knight 
 on Arms and Letters (Parte II. c. 37 
 and 38) may be traced to an obscure 
 Latin treatise on the same subject print- 
 ed in 1.549. It does not .seem to be 
 needful to refer to anj' particular source 
 for a mattei' .so obviou.s, especially to a 
 Sjianiard of the time of Cervantes ; but 
 if it be worth while to do so, a nearer 
 one, and one much more probable, may 
 be found in the Dedication of the " Flo- 
 res de Seneca traducidas ])or Juan Cor- 
 dero," (Anver.s, 1555, 12mo,) a person 
 much distinguished and honored in his 
 time, as we see from Xinicno and Fus- 
 ter. 
 
 There was an answer to Conde's 
 "Carta en CastcIIano," entitled " Res- 
 puesta a la Carta en Castellano, etc., 
 per Don Juan Fran. Perez de Cacegas" 
 (Madrid, 1800, 18mo, pp. 60). It was 
 hardly needed, I think, and its temper 
 is not better than that of such contro- 
 versial tracts generally among the Span- 
 iards. But some of its hits at the 
 notes of Pellicer to Don Quixote are 
 well deserved.
 
 liiAi'. Xll.l DKFKC'TS OF THE DON QUIXOTE. 1T7 
 
 broil <>'lit liomo coiifossodly in the year 1G04. To add 
 further to this coiiriision, when we reach the Second 
 Part, which opens only a month after the conchision of 
 the First, and continues only a few weeks, we have, at 
 the .side of the same chiims of an ancient Arabian 
 nnthor, a conversjition about the expulsion of the 
 Moors,'^-* which happened after 1609, and much criticism 
 on Avellaneda, wdiose work was published in 1614.'^*^ 
 
 But this is not all. As if still further to accumulate 
 contradictions and incongruities, the very details of the 
 story he has invented are often in whimsical conflict 
 Avith each other, as well as with the historical facts 
 to which they allude. Thus, on one occasion, the 
 ^scenes which he had represented as having occurred in 
 the course of a single evening and the following morn- 
 ing are said to have occupied two days ; " on another, 
 he sets a company down to a late supper, and after 
 conversations and stories that must have carried them 
 nearly through the night, he says, " It began to draw 
 towards evening."*"^ In different places he calls the 
 same individual by different names, and — what is 
 rather amusing — once reproaches Avellaneda with a 
 mistake which was, after all, his own.*^ And finally, 
 having discovered the mconseqnence of -saying seven 
 times that Sancho was on his ass after Gines de Passa- 
 monte had stolen it, he took painsTnT'tTie only 
 edition of the First Part that he ever * revised, * 150 
 to correct two of his blunders, — heedlessly 
 
 39 Don Quixote, Parte TI. c. .54. ''^ Cervantes calls Sancho's Avife by 
 
 *** The criticism on Avellaneda be- three or four different names (Parte 1. 
 
 gins, as we have said, Parte II. c. 59. c. 7 and 52, and Parte II. c. 5 and 59) ; 
 
 *i Parte I. c. 46. and Avellaneda liaAang, in some degree, 
 
 *^ " Llegaba ya la noche," he says in imitated him, Cervantes makes himself 
 
 c. 42 of Parte I., when all that had oc- very merry at the confusion ; not no- 
 
 curred from the middle of c. 37 had ticing that the mistake was really his 
 
 happened after they were set down to own. 
 
 supper. , 
 
 VOL. II. 12
 
 178 MERITS OF THE DON QUIXOTE. [Pei:i.)I. 11. 
 
 overlooking" llio rest; and wlien he pul)lishe(l the 
 Second Part, Uuighed heartily at the whole, — the 
 errors, the corrections, and all, — as tlnngs of little 
 consequence to himself or anyljody else.'^ 
 
 The romance, however, which he threw so carelessly 
 from him, and wdiich, I am persuaded, he regarded 
 rather as a bold effort to break up the a])surd taste of 
 his time for the fancies of chivalry than as anything of 
 more serious import, has been established l)y an unin- 
 terrupted, and, it may be said, an unquestioned, suc- 
 cess ever since, both as the oldest classical specimen of 
 romantic fiction, and as one of the most remarkable 
 monuments of modern genius. But though this may 
 be enough to fill the measure of human fame and 
 glory, it is not all to which Cervantes is entitled ; for, 
 if we would do him the justice that would have been 
 most welcome to his own spirit, and even if we would 
 onrselves fully comprehend and enjoy the whole of his 
 Don Quixote, w^e should, as w^e read it, bear in mind, 
 that this delightful romance was not the result of a 
 youthful exuberance of feeling and a hapj)y external 
 condition, nor composed in his best years, wdien the 
 spirits of its author Avere liglit and his hopes high; but 
 that — with all its imquenchable and irresistible hu- 
 mor, with its bright views of the world, and its cheer- 
 ful trust in goodness and virtue — it w^as written in his 
 old age, at the conclu§im] of .a life nearly every step of 
 which had been marked wntli disappointed'^irxpecta- 
 tions, disheartening struggles, and sore ctdamities ; 
 
 ■•* Tlie facts roferrcd to are tliesc. tho edition of 1(308, Cervantes corrected 
 
 Oines de Passamonte, in the 23d chap- two of tliesc careh^ss mistakes on leaves 
 
 ter of Part First, (ed. 1605, f. 108,) 109 and 112; bnt left the five others 
 
 steals Saiudio's ass. l^ut liardly three jnst as they stood before ; and in Chaj)- 
 
 leavcs further on, in the same edition, ters 3 and 27 of the Second Part, (ed. 
 
 we find Sancho riding again, as usual, 161.'j,) jests about the whole matter, 
 
 on the poor beast, which i'eap]>eiirs yet but shows no disjjosition to attempt 
 
 B^-i-x other times out of all reason. In further corrections.
 
 CllAl'. Xll. 
 
 MKIHTS OF TIIK DOX QUIXOTE. 
 
 179 
 
 tlitit he began it in a ])ris()n, and tliat it was finished 
 when he felt the hand ol" death [)ressiiig lieavy and 
 cold npon his heart. If tliis ])e remembered as we 
 read, we may feel, as we onglit to feel, Avhat admira- 
 tion and reverence are dne, not only to the 
 living power of Don * Quixote, but to the char- * lol 
 acter and genius of Cervantes ; — if it be for- 
 gotten or underrated, we shall fail in regard to both."*" 
 
 *^ Having exjn'cssed so strong an 
 opinion of (Jervantes's merits, 1 cannot 
 refuse myself the pleasure of citing the 
 words of the modest and wise Sir Wil- 
 liam Temple, who, when speaking of 
 works of satire, and rebuking Rabelais 
 for his indecency and profaneness, says : 
 "The matchless wiiter of Don Quixote 
 is much more to be admired for having 
 made up so excellent a composition of 
 satire or ridicule without those ingredi- 
 ents ; and seems to be the best and 
 
 highest strain that ever has been or will 
 be reach(!(l by that vein." Works, Lon- 
 don, 1814, 8vo, Vol. 111. p. 43G. To 
 this may ijot inappropriately be added 
 the opinion of Dr. Johnson, who "con- 
 fessed that the work of Cervantes was 
 the greatest in the world after Homer's 
 Hiad, .speaking of it, I mean," says Mrs. 
 Piozzi, "as a book of entertainment." 
 Boswell's Johnson, Ci'oker's edition, 
 1831, Vol. IV. pp. 377, 378. See Ap- 
 peudix (E).
 
 *l.i2 * CHAPTER XTTT. 
 
 l.OPi: DK VKCA. — ins KAI!I.V I, IKK. A SOLDIKK. HE WRITES THE ARCA- 
 DIA. MAKUIE?'. HAS .V DIEI.. KI.IES TO VALE\<IA. DEATH OF HIS 
 
 AVIKE. — HE SEItVES IN THE AHMADA. UETIRXS TO MADRID. :MARRIES 
 
 At.AIN. — DEAIII OF HIS SONS. HE HECOMES RELKHOI'S. HIS POSITION 
 
 AS A MAN OK LETTERS. HIS SAN ISIDRO, HERMOSirRA DE ANGELICA, 
 
 DI!A(;ONTEA, I'EREGRINO EN SL' I'ATRIA, AND .lERLSALEN CONQUISTADA. 
 • 
 
 It is impossible to speak of Cervantes as the 
 great genius of the Spanish nation without recalling 
 Lope -de Vega, the rival who far surpassed him in 
 contemporary popularity, and rose, during the life- 
 time of both, to a degree of fome which no Spaniard 
 had yet attained, and which has been since reached 
 by few of n.i\y country. To the examination, there- 
 fore, of this great man's claims, — which extend to 
 almost every department of the national literature, 
 — we naturally turn, after examining those of the 
 author of Don Quixote. 
 
 Lope Felix de Vega Carpio was born on the 25th 
 of November, 1562, at Madrid, whither his father had 
 recently removed, almost by accident, from the old 
 family estate of Vega, in the picturesque valley of 
 Caniedo.^ Fioiu his earliest youth he discovered 
 
 ^ There is a life of Lope de Vega, generous spiiit of its author, who spent 
 
 which was first published in a single some tinu! in Spain, when he was al)out 
 
 volume, 1iy the third Lord Holland, in thirty years old, and never afterwards 
 
 1806, and again, with tiie addition of a ceased to take an intere.st in its alfairs 
 
 life of Guillen de Castro, in two vol- ami literature. He was much connect- 
 
 umes, 8vo, London, 1817. It is a ed with Jovellanos, Blanco White, and 
 
 plea.sant book, and contains a good other distinguished Sjianiards ; not a 
 
 notice of both its subjects, and agree- few of wlioni, in the days of disaster 
 
 able criticisms on their works ; l)ut it is that fell on their country iluring the 
 
 quite a.s interesting for thi' glimiises it French invasion, and the subsequent 
 
 gives of the tine accomplishments and mi.sgovernment of Ferdinand VII., en-
 
 ClIAl'. XI II. I 
 
 LOPE DE VEGA. 
 
 181 
 
 extraordinary * powers. We are assured by * loo 
 his friend Montjdvan, that at five years of age 
 he could not only read Latin as well as Spanish, 
 ])ut that he had such a passion for poetry, as to 
 pay his more advanced schoolfellows with a share 
 of his breakfast for writino; down the verses he die- 
 tated to them, before he had learned to do it for 
 hmiself^ His father, who, as he intimates, was a 
 poet,^ and who was much devoted to works of charity 
 in the latter years of his life, died when he was very 
 young, and left, besides Lope, a son who perished in 
 
 joyed the princely hospitality of Hol- 
 laiul Hou.se, where the beni<T;iuiiit and 
 frank kindliness of its noble master 
 shed a charm and a grace over what 
 was most intellectual and elevated in 
 European society that could be given 
 by nothing else. 
 
 Lope's own account of his origin and 
 birth, in a poetical epistle to a Peruvian 
 lady, who addressed him in verse under 
 the name of "Amarylis," is very odd. 
 The corre.spondence is found in the first 
 volume of his Obras Sueltas, (Madrid, 
 1776-1779, 21 torn. 4to,) Epistolas 
 XV. and XVI. ; and was first printed 
 "by Lope, if I mistake not, in 1624. It 
 is now referred to for the following im- 
 portant lines : — 
 
 Tiene su silla en la bordada alfombra 
 De Castilla el valor de la montana, 
 Que el valle de Oarriedo Espana nombra. 
 
 All 1 otro tiempo se cifraba Espana ; 
 Alii tuve principio ; mas que importa 
 Nacer laurel y ser humilde cana ? 
 
 Falta dinero alii, la tierra es corta ; 
 Vino mi palrj del solar de Vega: 
 Assi a los pohres la nobleza exhorta ; 
 
 Siguiole ha.sta Madrid, de zelos ciega, 
 Su amorosa muger, porque 61 queria 
 Una Espaitola Helena, entonces Griega. 
 
 Ilicieron amistades, y aquel dia 
 
 Fue piedra en mi primero fundamento 
 La paz de .su zelosa fantasia. 
 
 En fin por zelos soy ; que naciniiento I 
 Imaginalde vos que haver nacido 
 De tan inquieta causa fu6 portento. 
 
 And then he goes on with a pleasant 
 account of his making verses as soon as 
 he could speak ; of his early passion 
 for Raymond Lulli, the metaphy.si(;al 
 doctor then so much in fashion ; of his 
 subsequent .studies, his family, etc. 
 Lope loved to refer to his origin in the 
 mountains. He s])eaks of it in his 
 
 "Laurel de Apolo," (Silva Vlll.,) and 
 in two or three of his jilays he makes 
 his heroes boast that they came from 
 that part of Spain to which he traced 
 his own birth. Thus, in " La Vengan- 
 za Venturosa," (Comedias, 4to, Madrid, 
 Tom. X., 1620, f. 33, b,) Feliciano, a 
 high-spirited old knight, says, — 
 
 El noble solar que lieredo, 
 
 No lo dare a rico infame, 
 
 Porque nadie me lo Uame 
 
 En el valle de Carriedo. 
 
 And again, in the opening of the "Pre- 
 mio del Bien Hablar," (4to, Madrid, 
 Tom. XXL, 1635, f. 159,) where he 
 seems to describe his own case and 
 character : — 
 
 Naci en Madrid, aunque son 
 En Galicia los solares 
 De mi naciniiento noble, 
 De mis abuelos y padres. 
 Para noble naciniiento 
 Ay en Espana tres partes, 
 Galicia, Vizcaya, Asturias, 
 O ya montaiias le llaman. 
 
 The valley of Carriedo is said to be very 
 beautiful, and Minano, in his " Diccio- 
 nario Geografico," (Madrid, 8vo, Tom. 
 II., 1826, p. 40,) describes La Vega as 
 occupying a fine position on the banks 
 of the Sandoiiana. 
 
 ^ " Before he knew how to write, he 
 loved verses so much," says Montalvan, 
 his friend and eulogist, " that he shared 
 his breakfast with the older boys, in 
 . order to get them to take down for him 
 what he dictated." Fama Postuma, 
 Obras Sueltas, Tom. XX. p. 28. 
 
 ** In the "Laurel de Apolo," he says 
 he found rough copies of verses among 
 his father's papers, that seemed to him 
 better than his own.
 
 182 LOPE DE VEGA AT COLLEGE. [Pkiuod II. 
 
 the Annada in 1-588, and a daughter who died in 
 IGOl. In the period immediately following the fa- 
 ther's death, the family seems to have l)een seattered 
 
 by poverty; and dining this intei'val Lope 
 * 154 probaldy lived Avith his nncle. * the hujuisi- 
 
 tor, Don Miguel de Cai})io, of whom he long 
 afterwards speaks with great respeet* 
 
 l)Ut though the fortunes of his house were l)roken, 
 his education was not neglected. He was sent to 
 the Imperial College at Madrid, and in two years 
 made extraordinary progress in ethics and in elegant 
 literature, avoiding, as he tells ns, the mathematics, 
 which he found nnsuited to his humor, if not to his 
 genius\ Accomplishments, too, were added, — fen- 
 cing, dancino;, and music ; and he Avas going on in a 
 way to gratify the wishes of his friends, when, at 
 the age of fourteen, a wild, giddy desire to see the 
 world took possession of him ; and, accompanied by 
 a schoolfellow^, he ran away from college. At first, 
 they went on foot for two or three days. Then tliej^ 
 bought a sorry horse, and travelled as far as Astorga, 
 in the northwestern part of Sf)ain, not far from the 
 old fief of the Vega family ; but there, growdng tired 
 of their journey, and missing more seriously than 
 they had anticipated the comforts to which they had 
 been accustomed, they determined to return home. 
 At Segovia, they attempted, in a silversmith's shop, 
 to exchange some doubloons and a gold chain for 
 small coin, but were suspected to be thieves, and 
 arrested. The magistrate, how^ever, before whom 
 they were brought, bein^ satisfied that they w^ere 
 guilty of nothing but folly, released them; though, 
 
 * See Dedication of the " Hennosa Esti-r," in Coiiiedia.s, Madrid, 4to, Tom. 
 XV., 1i;21.
 
 CllAP. XUl.] 
 
 J.Ol'K I)E VK(iA IX LOVE. 
 
 183 
 
 wisliing to do ;i kindness to their friends, as well 
 as to themselves, he sent an oflieer of justiee to de- 
 liver them safely in Madrid/' 
 
 At the a<re of iifteen, as he tells ns in one of his 
 poetical epistles, he was serving as a soldier against 
 the Portugnese in Terceira;'' bnt oidy u little Inter 
 than this we know that he iilled some place 
 * about the person of Geronimo. Manrique, * 155 
 Bishop of Avila, to whose kindness he acknowl- 
 edged himself to be much indebted, and in whose 
 honor he wrote several eclogues," and inserted a long 
 passage in his '' Jerusalem." Under the pntronage of 
 Manrique, he was, probably, sent to the University 
 of Alcala, where he certainly studied some time, and 
 not only took the degree of Bachelor, but was near 
 submittini"' himself to the irrevocable tonsure of the 
 priesthood.^ 
 
 But, as we learn from some of his own accounts, 
 he now fell in love. Indeed, if we are to believe 
 
 ^ hi tlie " Fama Postuma." 
 *" This curious passage is in the Epis- 
 th', or Metro Lyrico, to D. Luis de Ha- 
 ro, Ohras Sueltas, Tom. L\. p. 379 : — 
 
 Xi mi fortuna tniula 
 Ver en tri's lustres tie mi L'.lad iirimera 
 ('on la espada desnuUa 
 Al liravo I'ortugues en la Tercera, 
 Ni despues en las naves Espanolas 
 Del mar Ingles los puertos y las olas. 
 
 I do uot (juite luake out how this can 
 have hapitened in 1.577 ; but the assei- 
 tioti seems une(juivocal. Schack ((i(»s- 
 chichte der dramatisehen Literatur in 
 Spuiien, Berlin, 1845, 8vo, Tom. IL 
 ]). 164) thinks the fifteen years liere 
 rel'cned to are intended to embrace the 
 fifteen years of Lope's life as a soldier, 
 which he extends from Lo])e's eleventh 
 ye.u'to his twenty-sixth, — 1.57;? to 1588. 
 But Schack's ground for this is a mis- 
 take he had himself previously made in 
 sui)posing the Dedication of the "Gato- 
 luaehia " to be addressed to Lope hhn- 
 sclf ; whereas it is addressed to his son, 
 named Lopr, who served, at the age of 
 pftiTii, uudci' th(! Mar([uis of Santa ("I'uz, 
 
 as we shall see hereafter. The "Cu))i(I 
 in arms," therefore, referred to in this 
 Dedication, fsiils to prove, what Sciuick 
 thought it proved ; and leaves the "fif- 
 teen years" as dark a point as ever. 
 See Schack, pp. 157, etc. 
 
 ^ These arc the earliest works of Lope 
 mentioned by his eulogists and biogra- 
 phers, (ObrasSuelta..s, Tom. XX. p. 30,) 
 and must be dated ai early as 1582 or 
 1583. The "Pastoral de Jacinto" is in 
 the Comedias, Tom. XVIII., l)ut was 
 not ]ninted till 1623. 
 ^ ^ In the epistle to Doctor Gicgoiio de 
 Angulo, (Obras Sueltas, Tom. I. p. 420,) 
 he says: "Don Geionimo Manriijue 
 biought me up. I studied in Alcala, 
 and took the di^gree of Bachelor ; 1 was 
 even on the point of becoming a j>riest ; 
 but 1 fell blindly in love, God forgive 
 it ; I am married now, and he that is 
 so ill off fears nothing." Elsewhere he 
 si)eaks of his obligations to Mani'ique 
 more warmly ; for instance, in his Dedi- 
 cation of "Pobreza no es Vil(!za," (Co- 
 .meilias, 4to, Tom. XX., Madrid, 1629,) 
 where his language is veiy sti'ong.
 
 184 l.OPE I)E VEGA AM) THE DUKE OF ALAW. [Pkkk.i) II. 
 
 the tales he tells of luuiseH' in his "Dorothea." Avhieli 
 Avas written in his vouth and })rinte(l with the sanc- 
 tion ol' his old age, he suffered great extremity from 
 that passion when lie was only seventeen. Some of 
 the stones of that remarkahle dramatic romance, in 
 Avhicli he fignres under the name of Fernando, are, i^ 
 may he hoped, fictitious;'' though it must he ad- 
 mitted that others, like the scene l)etween the hero 
 and Dorothea, in the first act, the account of his 
 Aveeping hehind the door with Marfisa, on the da\' 
 >;he Avas to he married to another, and most of the 
 narrative parts in the fourth act, liaAc an air of 
 reality ahout them that hardly permits us to douht 
 they Avere true.^" Taken together. hoAvever, they do 
 him little credit as a young man of honor and a caA'- 
 
 alier. 
 * 1-jG * From Alcala, Lope came to Madrid, and 
 
 attached himself to the Duke of Alva ; not, 
 as it has heen generally supposed, the remorseless 
 favorite of Philip the Second, but Antonio, the great 
 Duke's o-randson, Avho had succeeded to his ancestor's 
 fortunes Avituout inheriting his Ibrmidahle spirit.^^ 
 
 ^ See DorotfM, Acto I. sc. fi, in which, giving to oiif poison tho lotter intended 
 
 having loolly niiidc iiji his mind to aban- for another, are (juite too iniiirobahle, 
 
 <hui Martisa, he goes to her and ]ire- and too niiieh like tlu; inventions of 
 
 tends lie has killed one man and wound- some of hi.s own plays, to he trusted, 
 
 ♦•d another in a night hiawl, obtaining (Act. A'', sc. 3, etc.) M. Fiuriid, how- 
 
 liy this ha,se falsehood the unhappy ever, who.se ojjinion on such subjects i.s 
 
 <;reature's jewels, which he needed to always to be respected, regards the 
 
 iiay his ex])en.se.s, and which .she gave whole as true. KevuedesDeuxMondes, 
 
 liim out of her overflowing affection. September 1, 1839. 
 Franci.sco Lopez de Aguilar, who de- '' Lord Holland treats him as the 
 
 fended the tlmatre in Lope de Vega's olil Duke (Life of Lope de Vega, Lon- 
 
 lifetime, says of the Dorotea (Obras don, 1817, 2 vols., Svo) ; and Southey 
 
 <le Lo]»e, Tom. VI I. p. vii), " Siendo (Quarterly Review, 1817, A^ol. XVII L 
 
 <;ierta imitaeion de verdad, le parecia i>. 2) undertakes to show that it could 
 
 <{ue no lo .seria hablando las pei-sonas be no other ; while Nicolas Antonio 
 
 •en verso." (Bib. Nov., Tom. II. p. 74) speaks as 
 
 1° Act I. .sc. 5, and Act IV. .sc. 1, if he were doubtful, thongh he inclines 
 
 liave a gieat air of reality about them. to think it was the elder. But there 
 
 But otiier parts, like tliat of the dis- is no doubt about it. Lope repeatedly 
 
 courses and tl()^ble^ ili;it i-.um- frDUi speaks ol' Antonio, i(/(t' <//v'«(/,vrr/), as his
 
 Cv.w. XI 1 1.] TlIK AiU'ADlA. . 185 
 
 Lope was iniicli liked by his new patron, and rose 
 to be his confidential secretary, living with him 
 both at court and in his retirement at Alva, where 
 letters seem for a time to have taken the place of 
 arms and affairs. At the suggestion of the Duke, 
 he wi'ote his " Arcadia," a pastoral romance, making 
 a volume of considerable size ; and, though chiefly 
 in prose, yet with poetry of various kinds freely 
 intermixed. Such compositions, as we have seen, 
 w^ere alreadj^ favored in Spain; — the last of them, 
 the "Galatea" of Cervantes, published in 1584, giv- 
 ing, perhaps, occasion to the Arcadia, which seems 
 to have been written almost immediately afterwards. 
 Most of them have one striking peculiarity; that 
 of concealing, under the forms of pastoral life in 
 ancient times, adventures which had really occurred 
 in the times of their respective authors. The 
 Duke was desirous to figure among these * fan- * 157 
 tastic shepherds and shepherdesses, and there- 
 fore induced Lope to write the Arcadia, and make 
 liim its hero, furnishing some of his own experiences 
 as materials for the work. At least, so the affair was 
 understood both in Spain and France, when the Arca- 
 dia was published, in 1598 ; besides which. Lope him- 
 self, a few years later, in the Preface to some miscel- 
 
 jiatioii ; e. g. in his epistle to the Risli- tlie last an accoimt of his death and of" 
 
 (iji ofOviedo, where he says : — tlie glories of his ffrandsov, whom li« 
 
 Y yodel Duque ^«<on(o dexe el Alva. again notices as his patron. Indeed, 
 
 Obras Sueltas, Tom. I. p. 289. the ease is quite plain, and it is only 
 
 And in the opening words of the Dedi- singular that it should need an expla- 
 
 catiou of his " Doniine Lucas," where nation; for the idea of making the 
 
 he says: "Sirviendo al excelentisimo Duke of Alva, who was minister to 
 
 Don Antonio de Toledo y Beamonte, Philip II., a .she))herd, seems to 1)e a 
 
 Duque de Alva, en la edad que pude caricature or an ab.surdity, or both. 
 
 escribir : — It is, however, the common impression. 
 
 La verde primavera ii'i'l "lay be again found in the Sema- 
 
 De mis Horidos anos." nario Pintoresco, 1839, p. 18. The 
 
 Comedias, Tom. XVll. lG21,f. 13",b. younger Duke, on the contrary, loved 
 
 Hi', however, j)raised the elder Duke letters, and, if I mistake not, there is 
 
 idiuu lautly in tlie second, third, and a C7«?M;7>r/i of hi.-: in the Cancionc^ro C!en- 
 
 iifth books of the "Arcadia," giving in eral of 1573, f. 178.
 
 186 TIIK ARCADIA. [Piikiud II. 
 
 Jaiieous poems, tells us expressly, "' The Arcudiu is a 
 true history." ^"^ 
 
 l>ur whether it be throughout a true history or not, 
 it is a very unsatisfactory one. It is commonly re- 
 garded as an imitation of its popular namesake, the 
 -Arcadia'' of Sanua/aro, of ^vhieh a Spanish translation 
 had api)eared in l-)47 ; hut it much more resend)les 
 the similar works of Montemayor and Cervantes, lioth 
 in story and style. Metaphysics and magic, as in the 
 "Diana" and - Galatea," are strangely mixed up with 
 the shows of a pastoral life ; and, as in them, we listen 
 with little interest to the perplexities and sorrows of a 
 lo\ er who, from mistaking the feelings of his mistress, 
 treats her in such a way that she marries another, and 
 then, by a series of enchantments, is saved from the 
 effects of his own despair, and his heart is washed so 
 clean, that, like Orlando's, there is not one spot of love 
 left in it. All this, of course, is unnatural ; for the 
 personages it represents are such as can never have 
 existed, and they talk in a language strained above 
 the tone becoming prose ; all propriety of costume and 
 manners is neglected ; so much learning is crowded 
 into it, that a dictionary is placed at the end to make 
 it intelligible ; and it is drawn out to a length wdiich 
 now seems quite absurd, though the edition;? it soon 
 passed through show that it was not too long for the 
 
 1- Tlif truth of tlip stones, or some also, Lope, Obras Sueltas, Tom. XIX. 
 of tin- stories, in tlie Arcadia, may l>e \\. xxii, and Tom. II. p. 4r)6. That it 
 inferred from the mysterious iiitima- was believed to be true in France is ap- 
 tions of Lojie in the Pr<)]of(o to the fiist ])arent from the Preface to old Lance- 
 edition ; in th(^ " Egloga a riaudio"; lot's translation, under the title of 
 and in tiie Preface to the " Iiimas," " Delices de la Vie Pastorale" (1624). 
 (I<i02,) put into the shape of a letter to Figueroa (Pasagero, 1617, f. 97, b) says 
 Juan de Arguijo. Quintana, too, in the .same thing of pastorals in general, 
 the Dedication to Lope of his " Expe- and cites the Galatea and the Arcadia 
 riencias de Amor y Fortuna," (1626,) in jnoof of it. It is important to settle 
 suys of the Arcadia, that " under a rude the fact, for it must be referred to 
 covering arc hidden .souls that are nobli' hereafter. See ^josi, Chap. XXXIII., 
 and event.'j that really happened." Sr-i-, note 8.
 
 riiAP. XIII. J 
 
 LOPE DE VE(;A MARKIED. 
 
 187 
 
 tiiste of its time. It sliould he jidded, however, 
 that * it occtasionally furnishes happy specimens * 158 
 of a glowing dechiniatory eloquence, and that 
 in its descriptions of natural scenery there is some- 
 times great felicity of imagery and illustration.^'^ 
 
 zVbout the time when Lope was writing the Arcadia, 
 he married Isabela de Urbina, daughter of the King-at- 
 arms to Philip the Second and Philip the Thii-d ; a lady, 
 we are told, not a little loved and admired in the high 
 circle to which she belonged.^* But his domestic hnp- 
 piness Avas soon interrupted. He fell into a quari-el 
 Avitli a hid(il(/o of no very good repute ; lampooned him 
 in a satirical poem ; was challenged, and wounded 
 his adversary ; — in consequence of all which, and of 
 other follies of his youth that seem now to have been 
 brought up against him, he was cast into prison.^^ He 
 
 1^ The Arcadia fills the sixth volume 
 of Lope's Obras Sueltas. Editions of it 
 were printed in 1598, 1.599, ItiOl, 1(J02, 
 twice, 1603, 1605, 1612, 1615, 1617, 
 1620, 1630, and often since, showing a 
 gi-eat ])opulaTity. The first edition, 
 1598, which I possess, and which I su})- 
 pose is the first of Lope's publications, 
 makes 312 rt'. in l"2nio, l)esi<les the pref- 
 atory matter and hidex, and is from 
 the press of Sanchez at Madrid. It 
 contains a wood-engraving of Lope, 
 which rejiresents him as a somewhat 
 stiff and gayly dressed young man. 
 
 1* Her father, Diego de Urbina, was 
 a person of some conse([nence, and fig- 
 ures among the more distinguished na- 
 tives of Madrid in Baeua, " Hijos dc; 
 Madrid." 
 
 1^ Montalvan, it should he noted, 
 seems willing to slide over these 
 "frowns of fortune, brought on by liis 
 youth and aggravated by his enemies." 
 But Lope attributes to them his exile, 
 which came, he says, from "love in 
 early youth, whose trophies were exile 
 and its results tragedies." (Epistola 
 Primera a D. Ant. de Mendoza. ) But 
 he also attributes it to false friends, in 
 the fine ballad where he re]>rcsents him- 
 self as looking down upiou the ruins of 
 
 Saguntum and moralizing on his own 
 exile: "Bad friends," he says, "have 
 brought me here." (Obras Sueltas, 
 Tom. XVIL p. 434, and Romancero 
 General, 1602, f. 108.) But again, in 
 the Second Part of his " Philomena," 
 1621, (Obras Sueltas, Tom. II. p. 452,) 
 he traces his ti'oubles to his earlier ad- 
 ventures ; "love to hatred turned." 
 "Love-vengeance," he declares, "dis- 
 guised an justice, exiled ine." 
 
 But the whole of this portion of Loi)e"s 
 life is obscure. Some light, however, 
 is thrown on it by a letter which he 
 addressed to the king in 1598, and a 
 copy of which I obtained from tlu; kind- 
 ness of the last Lord Holland, to whose 
 father, the biographer of liope, it was 
 sent, many years ago, by Don Martin 
 Fernandez de Navarrete. As it is im- 
 portant, and, I think, unpublished, 1 
 give it entire. It seems to have been 
 written from the villa of Madrid. 
 
 " Senor, Lope de Vega Carpio, vecino 
 de esta villa dice : Que V. M. le ha 
 hecho merced de alzarle lo que le falta- 
 ba de cumplir de diez afios de desti(!ri'o 
 en que fue condenado por los Alcaldes 
 de Coi'te destc reyno, los dos que cum- 
 ])li(') y los ocho della y cinco leguas, 
 porc^ue se le opuso haber hecho ciertas
 
 188 
 
 LOPE DE VEGA IN VALENCIA. 
 
 [Period IL 
 
 * 159 was not. however, left without a ^ true IViend. 
 Chiucho ("onde. who. on more than one occa- 
 sion, showed a genuhie attachment to Lope's jDcrson, 
 accompanied him to his cell, and. when he was released 
 and exiled, went with him to \'alencia. where Lope 
 himself was treated with extraoi'dinary kindness and 
 consideration, though exposed, he says, at times, to 
 dangers as great ;is those from which he had suflered 
 so much at Madrid.^'' 
 
 The exile of Lope lasted at least two years, and 
 Mas chiefly passed at Valencia, then in literary reputa- 
 tion next after Madrid among the cities of Spain. Nor 
 does he seem to have missed the advantages it offered 
 him : for it was, no doubt, during his residence there 
 that he formed a friendship with Gaspar de Aguilar 
 and (ruillen de Castro, of which many traces are to be 
 Ibund in his works; while, on the other hand, it is 
 
 satiras contra Geronimo Velazquez, au- 
 tor de coniedias y otras i)ersonas de sii 
 casa, y porque durante <li('ho destierro 
 a cosas forzosas que se le ofrecieiou 
 eutro en esta coite y otras partes en 
 <luebrantamiento del ; — suj)li(:a le haga 
 nierced de reniitirle las penas ijue por 
 ello incurno." 
 
 The following note is in Xavarrete's 
 well-known liandwriting : "Me lo envio 
 de Sinianca.s el Sr. D. Tomas Gonzalez 
 encargado del arreglo de aquel arcliivo 
 uacional. ilartin Fernandez de Navar- 
 rete." And on the back is indorsed, 
 "Carta de Lope de Vega al Key pidi- 
 endo le haga la giacia de remitir las 
 penas incurridas por el, ano 1598." 
 
 From this letter it apjwars that the 
 avowed cause of Lope's exile was cer- 
 tain satires against Geronimo Velaz- 
 quez, autor de Comedia.s, and other per- 
 sons of his kin ; — that he had broken 
 it;; terms by coming within the five 
 leagues of the court from which he 
 was forbidden ; and that he now asked 
 a pardon from th<' penalties he had 
 tlius ineurred, having already obtained 
 a remission of the term of exile not yet 
 fulfilled. Now there is a certain Ve- 
 
 lazquez noticed in C. Pellicer's " Origen 
 de la Comedia," etc., (Madrid, 1804, 
 Tom. II. p. 141,) who answers all the 
 conditions given by Moutalvan and 
 Lope of the "Autor de Comedias " in 
 question, and Pellicer has given part 
 of a popular satire on him, which, it is 
 not unlikely, may be the very one 
 for which Lope wa.s exiled. Pellicer, 
 however, neither suspected the distin- 
 guished authorsliip of the verses he 
 cites, nor knew the first name of Velaz- 
 quez. 
 
 1^ His relations with Claudio are no- 
 ticed by himself in the Dedication to 
 that "true friend," as he justly calls 
 liim, of the well-known play, "Court- 
 ing his own ilisfortunes " ; — "which 
 title," he adds, "is well .suited to those 
 adventures, wlien, with so much love, 
 you accompanied me to prison, from 
 which we went to Valencia, wliere we 
 ran into no less dangers than we had 
 incunvd at home, and where 1 lepaid 
 you by liberating you from the tower 
 of Serranos [a jail at Valencia] and the 
 severe .sentence you were there under- 
 going," etc. Comedias, Tom. XV., 
 Madrid, 1621, f. 26.
 
 Cii.u'. XIII.] IILS WIFE DIES. 189 
 
 perhaps not um-easoiiahle to assuiiiu that the theatre, 
 which was just then beti-inuiiig to take its form in 
 Valencia, w^as much indebted to the fresh power of 
 Lope for an impulse it never afterwards lost. At any 
 rate, we know that he was much connected with the 
 Valencian poets, and that, a little later, the}' were 
 amono; his marked followers in the drama. 15ut his 
 exile was still an exile, — bitter and wearisome to 
 him, — and he gladly returned to Madrid as soon as 
 he could venture there safely. 
 
 His home, however, soon ceased to be what it had 
 been. His vonno- wife died in less than a year 
 after his * return, and one of his friends, Pedro * 160 
 de Medinilla,^' joined him in an eclogue to her 
 memory, which is dedicated to Lope's patron, Antonio, 
 Duke of Alva,^*^ — a poem of little value, and one that 
 does much less justice to his feelings than some of his 
 numerous verses to the same lady, under the name of 
 Belisa, which are scattered through his own works and 
 found in the old Romanceros.^'^ 
 
 ^■^ Baltasar Elisio de Mediiiilla, -whose in the Arcadia, as may be seen fiom 
 
 violent death is mourned by Lope de the sonnet i)retixed to that pastoral by 
 
 Vega in an Elegy in the fust volume Amphryso, or Antonio, Duke of Alva ; 
 
 of his works, wrote a Poem entitled and it is the poetical name Lope bore 
 
 " Limpia Concepcion de la Virgen Nu- to the time of his death, as may be seen 
 
 estra Sehora," Madrid, 1617, 12mo, pp. from the beginning of the thiixl act of 
 
 89, — the fruit, he tells us, of seven the drama in honor of his memory, 
 
 years' labor, and published at the age (Obras Sueltas, Tom. XX. ]>. 41)4. ) 
 
 of thirty-two. Lope, in some prefatory Even his Peruvian Amaryllis knew it, 
 
 verses, says of it, — and under this name addressed to him 
 
 Letor no ay silaba aqui the poetical epistle already referred to. 
 
 Que de oro puro no sea, ec. This fact — that Belardo was his recog- 
 
 But it is, after all, a dull poem, divided nized poetical appellation — should be 
 
 into five books, and about five hundred borne in mind when reading the poetry 
 
 octave stanzas, beginning with the of his time, where it fi-ecjueutly recurs, 
 prayers of Joachim for offspring, and ^^ Belisa is an anagram of Isahe.hi, 
 
 ending with the mysterious conce})tion. th(! first name of his wife, as is plain 
 
 The subject — always popular in Spain from a sonnet on the death of her 
 
 — may have gained more regard for it niotlier, Theodora Urlnna, where lie 
 
 than it deserved ; but it was never re- speaks of her as "the heavenly imago 
 
 printed. of his Belisa, whose silent words and 
 
 1^ Obras Sueltas, Tom. IV. pp. 430- gentle smiles had been thi^ consolation 
 
 443. Bclarih), the name Lope bears in of his exile." (Obras Suelta.s, Tom. lY. 
 
 this eclogue, is the one he gave himself p. 278.) There are several ballads con-
 
 190 LOPE DE VEGA IX THE AKMADA. [Vevaud II. 
 
 It must be admitted, however, that there is some con- 
 fusion in this matter. The balhids bear witness to the 
 jealousy felt lj\' Isaliela on account of his relations with 
 another fair lady, who passes under the name of Filis. 
 — a jealous}' which seems to have caused him no small 
 embarrassment; for while, in some of his verses, he de- 
 clares it has no foundation, in others he admits and jus- 
 tifies it.-^ But however this may have been, a very 
 short time after Isabela's death he made no secret 
 of his passion for the rival who had disturbed her 
 
 peace. He was not, however, successful. For 
 * 161 some reason *or other, the lady rejected his suit. 
 
 He was in despair, as his ballads prove ; but his 
 despair did not last long. In less than a year from the 
 death of Isabela it was all over, and he had again taken, 
 to amuse and distract his thoughts, the genuine Spanish 
 resource of becoming a soldier. 
 
 The moment in which he made this decisive chano^e 
 
 o 
 
 in his life was one when a spirit of military adventure 
 was not nnlikely to take possession of a character 
 always seeking excitement ; for it was just as Philip 
 the Second was preparing the portentous Armada, with 
 which he hoped, by one blow, to overthrow the power 
 of Elizabeth and bring back a nation of heretics to 
 the bosom of the Church. Lope, therefore, as he 
 tells us in one of his eclogues, finding the lady of his 
 love would not smile upon him, took his musket on 
 his shoulder, amidst the universal enthusiasm of 1588, 
 marched to Lisbon, and, accompanied hy his faithful 
 
 iiected with lior in tlie Koniancpro (Jen- Bclisa, "Let Heaven condemn me to 
 eral, and a beautiful one in tlie tiiird of eternal woe, if I do not detest Pliillis 
 Lope's Tales, written evidently while and adore tliee " ; — which may he con- 
 he was with the Duke of Alva. Obras, sidereil as fullv contradicted by the 
 Tom. VIII. p. 148. e(|ually fine ballad addres.sed to Filis, 
 '^' For instance, in the line ballad be- (f. 13,) " Amada ]iastora mia " ; as well 
 grinning, " Llenos de I'grimas tristes," as by six or eight others of the same 
 (Komancero of 1602, f. 47,) he says to sort," — some more, some less tender.
 
 < H.vi'. Xlll.] LOl'E DE VEGA IN THE ARMADA. 191 
 
 friend Conde, went on board the magnificent arma- 
 ment destined for England, where, he says, he used 
 up lor wadding the verses he had written in liis 
 lady's praise."^ 
 
 A succession of disasters followed this ungallant 
 jest. His brother, from whom he -had long been sep- 
 arated, and whom he now found as a lieuteniint on 
 l)oard the Saint John, in which he himself served, 
 <lied in his arms of a wound received during a fight 
 with the Dutch. Other great troubles crowded after 
 this one. Storms scattered the unwieldy fleet ; ca- 
 lamities of all kinds confounded prospects that had 
 just before been so full of glory; and Lope must 
 have thought himself but too happy, wdien, after the 
 Armada had been dispersed or destroyed, he was 
 brought back in safety, first to Cadiz and afterwards 
 to Toledo and Madrid, reaching the last cit}^, prob- 
 i\h\y, in 1590. It is a cin^ious fact, however, in his 
 personal history, that, amidst all the terrors and suf- 
 ferings of this disastrous expedition, he found leisure 
 and quietness of spirit to write the greater 
 part of his long * poem on " The Beauty of * 162 
 Angelica," wdiich he intended as a continua- 
 tion of the " Orlando Furioso." ^ 
 
 But Lope could not well retm^n from such an expe- 
 dition without something of that feeling of disap- 
 pointment which, with the nation at large, accompa- 
 nied its failure. Perhaps it was owing to this that he 
 ■entered again on the poor course of life of which he 
 
 21 Volando en taeof! del canon violonto turned to Cadiz ill September, ir)8S, 
 
 LospapelesdeFilisporelyiento. having sailed from Lisbon in tll(! pre- 
 
 Egloga i Claudio, Obras, Tom. IX p. 35G. ceding May ; so that Lope was proba- 
 
 " One of his poetical panegyrists, bly at sea about four months. Further 
 
 after his death, speaking of the Anna- notices of his naval service may be 
 
 ^la, says : " There and in Cadiz he wrote found in the third canto of his " Coro- 
 
 the Angelica." (Obras, Tom. XX. )>. na Tragiea," and the second of his 
 
 •348.) The remains of the Armada re- " riiilomena."
 
 192 
 
 LOTE DE YEGA'S SECOXD MAURIAGE. [Pkuiod II. 
 
 had already made an exiDeriment with the Duke of 
 Alva, and became secretarv. first of the Marquis of 
 Malpica. and afterwards of the generous Marquis 
 of Sarria. who. as Count de Jamuos, was, a little later, 
 the patron of Cervantes and the Argensolas. While 
 he was in the servict.^ of the last distinguished noble- 
 man, and already known as a dramatist, lie became 
 attached to Dona Juana de Guardio. a lady of good 
 iamily in Madi'id. whom he luarricd in 1597; and. 
 soon afterwards leaving the Count de Lemos. had 
 never anv other patrons than those whom, like the 
 Duke of Sessa. his literaiy fame procured for liim.-^ 
 
 Lope had now reached the age of thirty-five, and 
 seems to have enjoyed a few years of happiness, to 
 which he often alludes, and which, in two of his 
 l)oetical epistles, he has described with much gentle- 
 ness and grace.-^ But it did not last long. A son. 
 
 Carlos, to whom he was tenderly attached. 
 * 1G3 lived ouly to his seventh *year;-'^ and the 
 
 mother died, giving birth, at the same time, 
 to Feliciana,-*^ who was afterwards married to Don 
 Luis de Usategui, the editor of some of his fiither-in- 
 
 ^^ Don I'cdrcj Fcniiiiidez dc Castro, 
 Count of Lemos and Maniuis of Sania, 
 who was born in Madnd about 1576, 
 nmn-ied a daugliti-r of the Duke de 
 Lcnna, the rci^^niing favorite and min- 
 ister of thi? time, witli whose fortunes 
 lie rose, and in whose fall he was ruined. 
 The peiiod of Ins highest lionois was 
 that following his aj)]K)intment as Viee- 
 voy of Naples, in 1610, where he kept 
 H literarj' court of no little splendor, 
 that hail for its eliief directors the two 
 Argensolas, and with which, atone time, 
 Quevedo was connected. The count 
 <lied in 1622, at Madiid. Lope's prin- 
 cipal connections with liini were when 
 lie was 3'oung, and before he had come 
 to his title as Count de Lemos. He 
 records himself as "Secretary of the 
 >Iarquis of Sarria," in the title-page of 
 the Arcadia, 1598 ; besides which, many 
 
 years afterwards, when writing to the 
 Count de Lemos, he says : " You know 
 how I love and reverence you, and that, 
 many a night, I liave slept at your 
 feet like a dog." Obras Sueltas, Tom. 
 XYIL p. 403. Clcmencin, Don Qui.\- 
 ote, Parte II., note to the Dedica- 
 toria. 
 
 -* Epi'stola al Doctor ilathias de Por- 
 ra.s, and Eju'stola a Amarylis ; to which 
 may be added the pleasant epistle to 
 Francisco de Kioja, in which he de- 
 scribes his garden and the friends he 
 received in it. 
 
 ^ On this .son, see Obras, Tom. L 
 ]>. 472 : — the tender Cavcion on liis 
 death, Tom. XI IL p. 365 ; — and the 
 Ijeautiful Dedication to him of the 
 " Pastores de Belen," Tom XYI. p. xi. 
 
 '^ Obras, Tom. I. p. 472, and Tom. 
 XX. p. 34.
 
 <('nAi>. XIII.] Ills INCONSISTENT LIFE. 193 
 
 law's posthumous woiks. Lope seems to have felt 
 bitterl}^ his desolate estate after the death of his wife 
 and son, and speaks of it with nineh feeling in a 
 poem addressed to his faithful friend Conde.^' But 
 earlier than this, in IGO"), iui illegitimate daughter 
 was horn to him, whom he named Marcela, — the same 
 to whom, in 1620, he dedicated one of his plays, with 
 extraordinary expressions of affection and admiration,^^ 
 and who, in 1621, took the veil and retired from the 
 world, renewing griefs, which, with his views of re- 
 ligion, he desired rather to bear with patience, and 
 even with pride.^^ In 1606, the same lady, — Doiia 
 Maria de Luxan, — who was the mother of Marcela, 
 bore him a son, whom he named Lope, and who, at 
 the age of fourteen, appears among the poets at the 
 canonization of San Isidro/^*^ But thouo-h his father 
 had fondly destined him for a life of letters, he in- 
 sisted on becoming a soldier, and, after serving under 
 the Marquis of Santa Cruz against the Dutch and 
 the Turks, perished, when only fifteen years old, in 
 a vessel which was lost at sea wdth all on board;^^ 
 Lope poured forth his sorrows in a piscatory eclogue, 
 less full of feeling than the verses in which he de- 
 scribes Marcela taking the veil.^'^ 
 
 * After the birth of these two children, we * 164 
 
 2' Obras, Tom. IX. p. 3.55. too complacently on the .s])len(lor fjiven 
 •28 a j,^[ Kemedio de la De.sdielia," a to the occasion by the king, and by liis 
 play whose story is from the old liallads patron, the Duke de Sessa, who desired 
 or the "Diana" of Montemayor, (Co- to honor thus a favorite and famous 
 madias, Tom. XIII., Madrid, 1620,) in poet. Obras, Tom. I. pj). 313-316. 
 the Preface to which he begs his daugh- *' Obras, Tom. XI. pp. 495 and 596, 
 ter to read and correct it ; and prays where his father jests about it. It is a 
 that she may be happy in spite of tin; Glosa. He is called Lope de Vega Car- 
 perfections which render earthly happi- pio, el mozo ; and it is added, that he 
 ness almost impossible to her. She was not yet fourteen years old. 
 long survived her father, and died, ^i Obras, Tom. I. pp. 472 and 316. 
 much reverenced for her piety, in 1688. ^^ In the eclogue, (Obras, Tom. X. 
 '^^ The description of Ids grief, and p. 362,) he is called, after both his 
 of his religious feelings as she took the father and his mother, Don Lope Felix 
 veil, is solemn, but he dwells a little del Carpio y Luxan. 
 VOL. II. 13
 
 194 LOPE DE YEGA liECOME.S A PKIE^T. [I'kuioi, 11. 
 
 hear nothing more of their mother. Indeed, soon 
 aftei'wards, Lope, no longer at an age to be deluded 
 b}' his passions, began, according to the custom of his 
 time and country, to turn his tlioughts seriously to 
 religion. He devoted himself to pious Avorks, as his 
 father had done ; visited the hospitals regularly ; re- 
 sorted daily to a particular church; entered a secu.lar 
 religious congregation ; and finally, at Toledo, in 1609. 
 according to Navarrete, received the tonsure and 
 became a priest. The next year he joined the same 
 brotherhood of which Cervantes was afterwards a 
 member.'^ In 1625, he entered the congregation of 
 the native priesthood of Madrid, and was so faithful 
 and exact in the performance of his duties, that, in 
 1628, he was elected to be its chief chaplain. He is, 
 therefore, for the twenty-six latter years of his long 
 life, to be regarded as strictly connected with the 
 Spanish Church, and as devoting to its daih^ service 
 some portion of his time.'^ 
 
 But we must not misunderstand the position in 
 which, through these relations. Lope had now placed 
 himself, nor overrate the sacrifices they required of 
 him. Such a connection with the Church, in his 
 time, by no means involved an a1)andoumeut of 
 the world. — hardly an abandonment of its pleasures. 
 
 ^ Pellicer, ed. Don Quixote, Tom. I. de pacitMicia, que si fuesen voluntarios 
 
 J), i-xcix. Navarrete, Vida de Cervau- como precisos no fuera a(pu su peniteii- 
 
 tes, 1819, p. 468. eia menos que principio del i)uigatorio." 
 
 8* There is a difficult}' about these — Inanotheiletteiot'Sciiteinher?, 1(511, 
 
 relations of Lope to the jmesthood and he speaks of gettinf< along better with 
 
 to his married life. Of course, if he Ins wife Juana. Of course, if these 
 
 t<jok the tonsure in 1609, he could not dates are right, the reckoning of Pclli- 
 
 be a married man in 1611 ; and yet cer and Navarrete is wrong, and Lope 
 
 Kcliack (Nachti-age, p. .31) gives us did not enter the priesthood before 1611 
 
 thes<' words from an autogiaph letter or 1612; but he seems by his li/dson 
 
 of Lope, dated Madrid, July 6, 1611, with Maria de Lu.xan, in 1605-6, to 
 
 and found among the papers of his have given cause enough for fiimily dis- 
 
 great patron and executor, the Duq\ie .sensions smh as these letters intimate, 
 
 de Sessa, viz. : "Aipii paso, Senor ex- The " brotherhood " ilid not imjily celi- 
 
 eelentisimo, mi vida con este mal im- bacy. 
 portuno de mi mnjei', egcrcitando actos
 
 c"iiAi'. XI 1 1. 1 MORE INCONSISTEXCIES. 195 
 
 On the contrary, it was i-ather regarded as one of 
 the means for securhig the leisure suited to a hfe 
 of letters and social ease. As such, uncjuestionably, 
 Lope employed it ; for, during the long series of 
 years in which he was a })riest, and gave regular 
 portions of his time to offices of devotion 
 * and charity, he was at the height of favor * 165 
 and fashion as a poet. And, wdiat may seem to 
 us more strange, it was during the same period he 
 produced the greater number of his dramas, not a few^ 
 of wdiose scenes oftend against the most unquestioned 
 precepts of Christian morality, while, at the same time, 
 in their title-pages and dedications, he carefulh^ sets 
 forth his clerical distinctions, giving peculiar promi- 
 nence to his place as a Familiar or servant of the Holy 
 Office of the Inquisition.*^ 
 
 It was, however, during the happier period of his 
 married life that he laid the foundations for his 
 general popularity as a poet. His subject w^as well 
 chosen. It Avas that of the great feme and glory of 
 San Isidro the Ploughman. This remarkable personage, 
 who pla}s so distinguished a part in the ecclesiastical 
 history of Madrid, is supposed to have been born in 
 the twelfth century, on wdiat afterwards became the 
 site of that city, and to have led a life so eminently 
 
 35 I notice the title Familiar del Lope, also, sometimes calls liims(|lf 
 
 kianto Oficio as early as the " Jerusalen Frcy in the titles of his works. This, 
 
 C'onquistada,"' 1609. Frequently after- however, it should be noted, is a ditfer- 
 
 wards, as in the Comedias, Tom. II., ent designation from Fr^y, though both 
 
 VI., XL, etc., no other title is put to come from the Latin Frater. For Fr^y 
 
 his name, as if this were glory enough, means a monk, and, in connnou par- 
 
 In liis time, Familiar meant a pei'son lance, a monk of some mendicant or- 
 
 who could at any moment be called der ; whereas Frcy is a member, whcth- 
 
 into the service of the In(|uisiti()n ; er clerical or lay, of one of the great 
 
 but had no special office, and no duties, S))anish military and religious orders, 
 
 till he was summoned. Covarruvias, Thus Lope de Vega was "Frcy del Or- 
 
 ad verb. Lope, in his " Peregrino en den de Malta," — not a small honor, 
 
 su Patria," (1604,) had already done — and Juan de la Cruz was " Frcy Des- 
 
 liomage to the Inquisition, calling it cabco de la Keforma de Nuestra Seno- 
 
 " Esta santa y venerable Inquisiciou," ra del Carmen," — a severe order ot 
 
 etc. Lib. II. monks.
 
 196 THE SAN ISIDRO. [Period II. 
 
 pious, that the angels came down and ploughed his 
 grounds for him, which the holy man neglected in 
 order to devote his time to religious duties. From an 
 early period, therefore, he enjoyed much consideration, 
 and was regarded as the patron and friend of the 
 whole territor}^, as well as of the city of Madrid itself 
 But his great honors date from the year 1598. In 
 that year Philip the Third was dangerously ill at a 
 neighboring village ; the city sent out the remains of 
 Isidro in procession to avert the impending calamity; 
 the king recovered; and for the first time the holy 
 
 man became widelj' fiimous and lashionable.'^*^ 
 * 166 * Lope seized the occasion, and wrote a long 
 - poem on the life of '• Isidro the Ploughman," or 
 Farmer ; so called to distinguish him from the learned 
 saint of Seville who bore the same name. It consists 
 of ten thousand lines, exactly divided among the ten 
 l)ooks of which it is composed ; and yet it was finished 
 within the year, and published in 1599. It has no 
 high poetical merit, and does not, indeed, aspire to any. 
 But it was intended to be popular, and succeeded. It 
 i> written in the old national five-line stanza, carefully 
 rhymed throughout; and, notwithstanding the appar- 
 ent difficulty of the measure, it everywhere affords 
 unequivocal proof of that facility and fluency of versifi- 
 cation for which Lope became afterwards so fiinious. 
 Its tcme, which, on the most solemn matters of religion, 
 is so fiiiilliiir that we should now consider it indeco- 
 rous, was no doubt in full consent with the spirit of the 
 
 ^ He was, from a very early period, drid in 1779 contains a list of the kings 
 honored at home, in Madrid, and has who had ])aid rcvcience to the ])oor 
 continued to he so ever since; — his ploufifliniaii, and among tliem are St. 
 humble origin and gentle character con- Ferdinand and Alfonso the Wise. Klo- 
 trihuting no <loubt to his j)opularity. gio a San Isidro, Labrador, Patron de 
 A poem urging intercessions to him in Madrid, por D. Joachin Ezquerra, Ma- 
 consequence of a great drought at Ma- drid, 1779, 18mo, jq). 14.
 
 CiiAi'. XIII.] THK SAX ISIDKO. 197 
 
 times, ;ind one main cause of its success. Tlius, in 
 Canto Third, where the angels come to Isidro and his 
 wife Mary, who are too poor to entertain them, Lope 
 describes the scene — which ought to be as solemn as 
 anything in the poem, since it involves the facts on 
 which Isidro's claim to canonization was subsequently 
 admitted — in the following light verses, which may 
 serve as a specimen of the measure and style of the 
 whole ; — 
 
 Three angels, sent by gi-ace divine. 
 
 Once on a time blessed Abraham's sight ; — 
 
 To Mamre came that vision bright, 
 
 AVhose number shouhl our thoughts incline 
 
 To Him of whom the Prophets write. 
 But six now came to Isidore ! 
 
 And, heavenly powers ! what consternation ! 
 
 Where is his hospitable store ? 
 
 Surely they come with consolation, 
 
 And not to get a timely ration. 
 Still, if in haste unleavened bread 
 
 Mary, like Sarah, now could bake, 
 * Or Isidore, like Abraham, take *lti7 
 
 The lamb that in its pasture fed, 
 
 And lioney from its waxen cake, 
 I know he would his guests invite ; — 
 
 But whoso ploughs not, it is right 
 
 His sufferings the price should pay ; — 
 
 And how has Isidore a way 
 
 Six such to harbor for a night ? 
 And yet he stands forgiven there, 
 
 Though friendly bidding he make none ; 
 
 For poverty prevents alone ; — 
 
 But, Isidore, thou still canst spare 
 
 What surest rises to God's throne. 
 Let Abraham to slay arise ; 
 
 But, on the ground, in sacrifice, 
 
 Give, Isidore, thy soul to God, 
 
 Who never doth the heart despise 
 
 That bows beneath his rod. 
 He did not ask for Isaac's death ; 
 
 He asked for Abraham':; willing faith. ^ 
 
 *? Tres ^npceles a Abraham Seis vienen a Tsjdro i ver : 
 
 Una voz apareciernn, srran Dios, que puede i^er? 
 
 Que a verle 4 Manibrc viuieron : Donde los ha de alvergar ? 
 
 Bien que a este n'lmero dan Mas vienen 4 consolar, 
 
 El que en figura trujeron. Que no vienen 4 comer.
 
 198 
 
 THE lIEKMObUllA DE ANGELICA. [Pekku) II. 
 
 No doubt, 8ome of the circumstances in the poem are 
 invented for the occasion, though there is in the mar- 
 gin much parade of authorities for ahnost everything ; 
 — a practice very connnon at that period, to which 
 Lope afterwards conformed only once or twice. But 
 however we may now regard the " San Isidro," it was 
 printed four times in less than nine years ; and by ad- 
 dressing itself more to the national and popular feel- 
 ing than the '" Arcadia" had done, it became the earli- 
 est foundation for its author's fame as the favorite poet 
 
 of the whole nation. 
 * 108 * xVt this time, however, he was beginning to 
 
 be so much occupied with the theatre, and so suc- 
 cessfulj that he had little leisure for anything else. His 
 next considerable publication,^® therefore, was not till 
 1602, when the " Hermosura de Angelica," or The 
 Beauty of Angelica, aj)peared ; a poem already men- 
 tioned as having been chiefly written while its author 
 served at sea in the ill-fated Armada. It somewhat pre- 
 sumptuously claims to be a continuation of the "' Orlando 
 Furioso," and is stretched out through twenty cantos, 
 comprehending above eleven thousand lines in octave 
 verse. In the Preface, he says he wrote it '• under the 
 rigging of the galleon Saint John and tiie l)anuers of 
 
 Si como Sara, Maria 
 
 Cocer luepo pan ])udiera, 
 
 Y c'l como Abraham truxera 
 El fordero que pacia, 
 
 Y la niicl entre la rcra, 
 Yo s<; que los convidara. 
 
 Mas (juando lo quo no ara, 
 Ije dicen que ha de pagar ; 
 Como jK)dr.i convidar 
 A wis de tan buena cara? 
 
 Disculpado puede estar, 
 Puesto (|ue no los convide, 
 Pues su pobreza lo impide, 
 Isidro, aunque puede dar 
 Muy bicn lo que Dios le pide. 
 
 A'aya Abraham al pmado, 
 
 Y en el snelo huniilde echado, 
 iJadle el alma, Isitiro, vos, 
 Que nunea des))re<-ia Dios 
 
 Kl corazon huniillado. 
 No queria el sjirritieio 
 
 De Tsaae, sino la obcdiencia 
 
 De Abraham. 
 
 Obnis Sueltas, Tom. XI. p. 69. 
 The three angels that came to Ahra- 
 haiu arc often taken hy tlie elder tlieo- 
 logian.s, as they are by Lope, to syni- 
 holizc the Tiinity. Xavarrete — more 
 cuninioiily known a.s £1 Miulo, or the 
 I )tiinl) Painter — endeavored to give this 
 e.\l)re.s.sion to them on canvas. Stirling's 
 Arti.sts in S]iain, 1848, Vol. L p. 2.55. 
 
 ^ The "Fiestas de Denia," a jioem 
 in two short cantos, on the reception 
 of I'hilip III. at Denia, near Valencia, 
 in 1.599, soon aftei' his niariiage, was 
 piinted the .same year, but is ol little 
 consecjuence.
 
 Chap. XIIL] THE IlEKMOSURA DE ANGELICA. 199 
 
 the Catholic king." and that -lie and the generalissimo 
 of the expedition finished their labors together"; — a 
 remark Avhich must not be taken too strictly, since 
 both the thirteenth and twentieth cantos contain pas- 
 sages relating to events in the reign of Philip the 
 Third. Indeed, in the Dedication, he tells his patron 
 that he had suffered the whole j^oem to lie by him long 
 for want of leisure to correct it ; and he elsewhere 
 adds, that he leaves it still unfinished, to be completed 
 by some happier genius. 
 
 It is not unlikely that Lope was induced to write the 
 Angelica by the success of several poems that had pre- 
 ceded it on the same series of fictions, and especially 
 by the favor shown to one published only two years be- 
 fore, in the same style and manner, — the '"Angelica'^ 
 of Luis Barahona de Soto, which is noticed with ex- 
 traordinary praise in the scrutiny of the Knight of La 
 Mancha's Library, as well as in the conclusion to Don 
 Quixote, where a somewhat tardy compliment is paid 
 to this very work of Lope. Both poems are obvious 
 imitations of Ariosto ; and if that of De Soto has bee« 
 too much praised, it is, at least, better than Lope's. And 
 yet, in " The Beauty of Angelica," the author 
 might have been deemed to occupy ground *well * 109 
 suited to his genius ; for the boundless latitude 
 afforded him by a subject filled with the dreamy adven- 
 tures of chivalry Avas, necessarily, a partial release from 
 the obligation to pursue a consistent plan, ^ while, at 
 the same time, the example of Ariosto, as well as that 
 of Luis de Soto, may be supposed to have launched 
 him fairl}^ forth upon the open sea of an unrestrained 
 fancy, careless of shores or soundings. 
 
 But perhaps this very freedom was a principal cause 
 uf his failure ; for his story is to the last degree wild
 
 200 THE IIERMOsrn.V I)E ANGELICA. [Pkimod II. 
 
 and extravagant, and is connected by the slightest 
 possible thread with the graceful fiction of Ariosto.^ 
 A king of Andalusia, as it pretends, leaves his king- 
 dom by testament to the most beautiful man or woman 
 that can be found.'^^ All the world throngs to wiu the 
 mighty prize ; and one of the most amusing parts of 
 the whole poem is that in which its author describes 
 to us the crowds of the old and the ugly who, under 
 such conditious, still thought themselves fit competi- 
 tors. But as early as the fifth canto, the two lovers, 
 Medoro aud Angelica, who had been left in India by 
 the Italian master, have already won the throne, and, 
 for the sake of the lady's unrivalled beauty, are 
 crowned king and queen at Seville. 
 
 Here, of course, if the poem had a regular subject, 
 it would end ; but now we are plunged at once into a 
 series of wars and disasters, arising out of the discon- 
 tent of unsuccessful rivals, which threaten to have no 
 end. Trials of all kinds follow. Visions, enchant- 
 ments and counter enchantments, episodes quite un- 
 connected with the main story, and broken up them- 
 selves by the most perverse interruptions, are mingled 
 toscether, we neither know whv nor how: and when 
 at last the happy pair are settled in their hardly won 
 kingdom, we are as much wearied bv the wild waste 
 of fanc}' in which Lope has indulged himself, as we 
 should have been by almost any degree of mo- 
 * 170 notony arising from a want of inventive * power. 
 The best parts of the poem are those that con- 
 tain descriptions of persons and scenery;*^ the worst 
 are those where Lope has displayed his learning, 
 
 ^ Till- point wliiTf it lirauchos off imlci'd, a fair opening for the subject 
 
 from tlic story of Arioslo is tlie six- of Lope's Angelica, 
 teenth stanza of the thirtieth canto of *' La Angelica, Canto IlL 
 
 the "(Jrlando Knriosi*," where there is, *' Cantos IV. and Vll.
 
 CiUF. Xni.] THE DKA(;ONTEA. 201 
 
 Avliicli lie lias sometimes done by filling whole stanzas 
 with a iiiere accumulation of proper names. The ver- 
 sification is extraordinai'ily Huent.'*^ 
 
 As The Beauty of Angelica was w^ritten in the ill- 
 fated Armada, it contains occasional intimations of the 
 author's national and religious feelings, such as w'ere 
 naturally suggested by his situation. But in the same 
 volume he at one time published a poem in which 
 these feelings are much more fully and freely ex- 
 pressed ; — a poem, indeed, which is devoted to noth- 
 ing else. It is called '• La Dragontea," and is on the 
 subject of Sir Francis Drake's last expedition and 
 death. Perhaps no other instance can be foimd of a 
 grave epic devoted to the persci.al abuse of a single 
 individual; and to account' for the present one, we 
 must remember how fjiiniliar and formidable the name 
 of Sir Francis Drake had long been in Spain. 
 
 He had begun his career as a brilliant pirate in 
 South America above thirty years before ; he had 
 alarmed all Spain by ravaging its coasts and occupying 
 Cadiz, in a sort of doubtful warfare, which Lord Bacon 
 tells us the free sailor used to call " singeing the king 
 of Spain's beard " ; *^ and he had risen to the height of 
 his o-lorv as second in command of the o-reat fleet 
 which had discomfited the Armada, one of whose 
 largest vessels was known to have surrendered to the 
 terror of his name alone. In Spain, where he was as 
 much hated as he was feared, he was regarded chiefly 
 as a bold and successful buccaneer, whose melancholy 
 
 ■*- La Hermosura de Angelica was acuuniulate them ai-c to he found in 
 
 ]>rinted for the, first time in 1604, says bras, Tom. II. ))p. 27, 55, 233, 236, etc. 
 the editor of the Obras, in Tom. II. '^'■^ "Considerations touchiiio; a War 
 
 But Salva gives an edition in 1602. It witli Spain, inscribed to Prince Cliarles," 
 
 certainly appeared at Barcelona in 1605. 1624 ; a curious sjjecimcm of the ])olit- 
 
 The stanzas where projjer names occur ical discussions of the time. See Bacon's 
 
 so often as to prove that Lope was guilty Works, London, 1810, 8vo, Vol. IIL 
 
 of the affectation of taking pains to p. ,517.
 
 202 
 
 THE I)RA(;OXTEA. 
 
 [Pekiod II. 
 
 death at Panama, in l-jDG, was held to he a just visita- 
 tion of the Divine vengeance for his piracies; — a 
 state of feeling of which the popular literature 
 * 1 71 * of the country, down to its very ballads, 
 affords frequent proof *^ 
 The Dragontea, however, whose ten cantos of oc- 
 tave verse are devoted to the expression of this na- 
 tional hati-ed, may be regarded as its chief monument. 
 It is a strange poem. It begins with the prayers of 
 Christianity, in the form of a beautiful woman, who 
 presents Spain, Italy, and America in the court of 
 Heaven, and prays God to protect them all against 
 Avhat Lope calls " that Protestant Scotch pirate."^^ It 
 ends with reioicinofs in Panama because " the Dragon," 
 as he is called through the whole poem, has died, 
 poisoned by his own people, and with the thanksgivings 
 of Christianity that her prayers have been heard, and 
 that "the scarlet lady of Babylon " — meaning Queen 
 Elizabeth — had been at last defeated. The substance 
 of the poem is such as may beseem such an opening 
 
 ** Mariana, Ilistoria, ad an. 1.596, 
 calls him .simply " Francis Drake, an 
 English corsair" ; — an<l in a graceful 
 little anonymous ballad, imitated from 
 a more gi'acx'ful one by Oongora, w(^ 
 have again a true exi)re.ssion of the 
 popular feeling. The ballad in ques- 
 tion, 1)eginning " Herniano Perico," is 
 in the Romancero General, 1602, (f. 34,) 
 and contains the following signiticant 
 passage : — 
 
 And Bartolo, my hrotlicr, 
 
 To Enjriaii.l forth is gone, 
 
 AVIiuri! the Drake ho nle.^n.s to kill ; — 
 
 And tlie lAithorans every one, 
 
 Kxronniiunicatc from Ooil, 
 
 Their ijueen aiiionjf the; first, 
 
 He will captiire and liring back, 
 
 Like heri'tirs .•loeurst. 
 
 .\iid he i)rouii-«!>i, moreover, 
 
 Among ills spoils and giiin.s, 
 
 A heretie young serving-boy 
 
 To give me, luiund in ehains ; 
 
 And for my ladv i^nimlmamma, 
 
 Who.il' yejirx sunh waiting crave 
 
 A little handy l.ntheran, 
 
 To Im- her maiden slave. 
 
 Mi hemiano Bartolo 
 Se va a Ingalaterra, 
 A matjir al Draque, 
 
 Y i prender la Ileyna, 
 
 Y a los Luteranas 
 De la Uandonies.sa. 
 Tiene de traerme 
 A mi de la guerra 
 Un Luteranico 
 Con una cadena, 
 
 Y una Luteraiia 
 A seiioni aguela. 
 
 Romancero General, .Madrid, ltXl2, 4to, f. 35 
 
 The .same ballad occurs in the " Entre- 
 nies de los Romances," in the very rare 
 and curious third volume, entitled Parte 
 Tercera de las Comedias de Lojie de 
 Vega y otros Autores, ec, Barcelona, 
 16i4, which, however, contains only 
 tlnee of Eo|te's Plays out of its twelve. 
 I found it in the Library of the Vatican, 
 where there are more old Sjianish books 
 than is commonly su])]>o.sed. 
 
 *5 He was in fact of l)evonshire. See 
 Fuller's Worthies and Holy State.
 
 (.'HAP. XI II. J TIJK I'EKEGKLNO EX SU rATKLV. 203 
 
 and such a coiicliisiun. It i.s violent and coarse 
 throughout. But although it appeals constantly to 
 the national prejudices that prevailed in its author's 
 time with great intensity, it was not received with 
 favor. It was written in 1597, immediately after the 
 occurrence of most of the events to which it alludes ; 
 but was not puljlished till 1G04, and has been 
 printed since * only in the collected edition of * 172 
 Lope's miscellaneous works, in 1776.*'^ 
 
 In the same year, however, in which he gave the 
 Dragontea to the world, he published a prose romance, 
 " The Pilgrim in his own Country " ; dedicating it to 
 the Marquis of Priego, on the last day of 1603, from 
 the city of Seville. It contains the story of two 
 lovers, who, after many adventures in Spain and Portu- 
 gal, are carried into captivity among the Moors, and 
 return home by the way of Italy, as pilgrims. We 
 first find them at Barcelona, shipwrecked, and the 
 principal scenes are laid there and in Valencia and 
 Sarao'ossa ; — the whole endino; in the city of Toledo, 
 where, with the assent of their friends, they are* at 
 last married.*' Several episodes are ingeniously inter 
 woven with the thread of the principal narrative, and 
 besides many poems chiefly written, no doubt, for other 
 occasions, several religious dramas are inserted, which 
 seem actually' to have been performed under the cir- 
 cumstances described.*^ 
 
 *6 There is a curiou.s poem in Ens- ma.s ignorado de sus libros." Oliras 
 
 lish, by Charles Fitzgeffrev, on the Sueltas, Tom. XIV. p. xxxii. 
 
 Life and Death of Sir Francis Drake, *' The time of the storv is 1598-99, 
 
 first printed in 1.^96, Mhieh is worth when Philip III. was married, 
 
 comparing with the Dragontea, as its ^ At the end of the whole, it is said, 
 
 opposite, and which was better liked in that, dnring the eight nights f.dlowing 
 
 England in its time tlian Lope's poem the wedding, eight other dramas were 
 
 was m Spain. See Wood's Athena;, acted, whose names are given ; two of 
 
 London, 1815, 4tQ, Vol. II. p. 607. which, " El Persegnido," and "El Cni- 
 
 Pacheco, in a notice of Lope, printcid Ian Agradecido," do not appear among 
 
 in 1609, — five years after the appear- Lo])e's printed plays; — at least, not 
 
 ance of the Dragontea, — culls it, " El under these titles.
 
 204 TUE JEKUSALEN COXQUISTADA. [Period II. 
 
 The entire romance is divided into five books, and 
 is carefully constructed and finished. Some of Lope's 
 own experiences at Valencia and elsewhere evidently 
 contributed materials for it ; but a poetical coloring 
 is thrown over the whole, and except in some of the 
 details about the cit}', and descriptions of natural 
 scenery, we rarely feel that what we read is absolutely 
 true.*'*' The story, especially when regarded from the 
 point of view chosen by its author, is interest- 
 *lTo ing; and it is not only one of the * earliest 
 specimens in Spanish literature of the class to 
 which it belongs, but one of the best.^*' 
 
 Passing over some of his minor poems and his " New 
 Art of Writing Plays," for noticing both of wdiicli more 
 appropriate occasions will occur hereafter, we come to 
 another of Lope's greater efforts, his " Jerusalem Con- 
 quered," which appeared in 1609, and Avas twice re- 
 printed in the course of the next ten years. He calls 
 it "a tragic epic," and divides it into twenty books of 
 octave rh^anes, comprehending, wlien taken together, 
 
 *9 Amonw the passages that have the translated Lope's Arcadia, his Dorotea, 
 
 strongest aTr of reality about them are and some of his Novelas. A notice of 
 
 those^relatin'T to the dramas, said to Kichard and his translations may be 
 
 have been acted in different places ; and found in the " Kritisehe Bemerkungen 
 
 those containing descriptions of Mon- iilit-r Ivastilische uiid Portugiesische 
 
 sen-ate and of the environs of Valencia, Eiteratur, von Alvaro August Liagno," 
 
 in the first and second books. A sort (1829-30, Svo,) written to .-ncourage 
 
 of ghost-story, in the fifth, seems also the ].ublication by Mayer, a bookseller 
 
 to have be.-n foun<led on fact. i" Aix la Chapelle, of the ])rincipal 
 
 so The first edition of the " Peregi-ino Si)anish authors;— a spirited under- 
 
 en .su Patria" is that of Seville, 1604, taking, which was continued far enough 
 
 4to, and it was soon reprinted ; but the to carry through the i)ress Garcilasso ; 
 
 best edition is that iu the fifth volume Melo's (hierra de Cataluna ; Guevara's 
 
 of the Obras Sueltas, 1776. A worth- Diablo Cojuelo ; Mendoza's Lazanllo ; 
 
 less abiidgment of it in English ap- Polo's Diana ; Tome de Burguillos, and 
 
 peared anonymously in London in 1738, most of the works of t'ervantes. Some 
 
 12mo. A 'German trau.s1ation, also of the notices by Liagno, in these tracts, 
 
 much abridged and leaving out the are curious, but in general they are of 
 
 poetry and drama.s, — in short, omit- little worth. His "Pepertoire del'His- 
 
 ting the part of Hamlet, —was pub- toire et de la Litterature Espagnole et 
 
 lished at Aachen, (lf^24, r2mo, pp. Portugaise," (15.-rlin, [1820,] 8vo,) is 
 
 23.'),) and entitled " Der Pilger, etc., yet worse. He seems to have been a 
 
 iibe'rsetzt von C. Kichard," a person disaiijioiiited man, and to have carried 
 
 who had served, I believe, in the Pe- the unhappy temper of his life into his 
 
 ninfiular war of 1808 - 14, and who also books.
 
 CiiAi'. XllI.J THE JEEUSALEN CONQUISTADA. 205 
 
 above twenty-two tliousiind verses. The atteiiii)t was 
 certainly an ambitious one, since we see, on its very 
 face, that it is nothing less than to rival Tasso on the 
 <»:rouncl where Tasso's success had been so brilliant. 
 
 As might have been foreseen. Lope failed. His very 
 subject is unfortunate, for it is not the conquest of 
 Jerusalem by the Christians, but the failure of Caun- 
 de Lion to rescue it from the infidels in the end of the 
 twelfth century, — a theme evidently unfit for a Chris- 
 tian epic. All the poet could do, therefore, was to 
 take the series of events as he found them in history, 
 and, adding such episodes and ornaments as his own 
 genius could furnish, give to the whole as much as 
 possible of epic form, dignity, and completeness. But 
 Lope has not done even this. He has made merely a 
 long narrative poem, of which Richard is the 
 hero; and he relies for success, in no * small * 174 
 degree, on the introduction of a sort of rival 
 hero, in the person of Alfonso the Eighth of Castile, 
 wdio, with his knights, is made, after the fourth book, 
 to occupy a space in the foreground of the action 
 quite disproportionate and absinxl, since it is certain 
 that Alfonso was never in Palestine at all.^^ What 
 is equally inappropriate, the real subject of the poem 
 is ended in the eighteenth book, by the return home 
 of both Richard and Alfonso ; the nineteenth being 
 filled with the Spanish king's subsequent history, and 
 the twentieth with the imprisonment of Richard and 
 the quiet death of Saladin, as master of Jerusalem, — 
 
 ^1 Lope insists, on all occasions, upon But tlu' whole is a mere fiction of 
 
 the fact of Alfonso's having been in the the age succeeding that of Alfonso, for 
 
 Crusades. For instance, in " La Boba using which Lope is justly rebuked 
 
 para los otros," (Com edias, Tom. XXL, by Navarrete, in his acute essay on 
 
 Madrid, 1635, f. 60,) he says : — the part the Spaniards took in the 
 
 To this crusade Crusades. Memorias de la Aciide- 
 
 There went together France and England's mia (U- la Hist., Tom. V., 1817, 4to, 
 
 power.«i, 
 And our own Kins Alfonso. 
 
 p. b/.
 
 '206 THE JERUSALEX COXQUISTADA. [Pei;ioi) II. 
 
 a conclusion so abrupt and unsatisfactory, that it seems 
 as if its author could hardly have originalh^ foreseen it. 
 But though, with the exception of what relates to 
 the apocryphal Spanish adventurers, the series of his- 
 torical events in that brilliant crusade is followed down 
 with some regard to the truth of fact, still we are 
 so much confused hy the visions and allegorical 
 personages mingled in the narrative, and by the mani- 
 fold episodes and love-adventures which interrupt it, 
 that it is all but impossible to read any considerable 
 portion consecutively and wUh attention. Lope's easy 
 and graceful versification is, indeed, to be found here, 
 as it is in neaily all his poetry ; but even on the holy 
 ground of chivalry, at Cyprus, Ptolemais, and Tyre, his 
 narrative has much less movement and life than we 
 might claim from its subject, and almost everj'where 
 else it is languid and heavy. Of plan, proportions, or 
 a skilful adaptation of the several parts so as to form 
 an epic whole, there is no thought ; and yet Lope inti- 
 mates that his poem was written with care 
 * 175 some time before it was published,^- "^ and he 
 dedicates it to his king, in a tone indicating 
 that he thought it ))v no means unworthy the royal 
 favor. 
 
 5^ See the Picilogo. The whole poem from that of other works wiitten in 
 
 is in Obras Sueltas, Tom. XIV. and XV. my youtli, wlieii the jiassions have more 
 
 He always liked it. Before it was jmh- power." Sehaek, Xaehtriige, 1854, p. 
 
 lished, he .says, in a letter to the Duke 33. Note that the Duke's name is 
 
 of Sessa, dated September 3, 1605, sometimes spelled with a double s as it 
 
 when he thought he might print it is here, and sometimes with a single 
 
 very soon: "I wrote it in my best one, — Sesa. 
 years, and with a different puqx)se
 
 *CHArTKll XIV. *1V6 
 
 LOPE BE VEGA. COXTIXUEn. — HIS KELATIOXS WITH THE CIirRCH. HIS PAS 
 
 TORES DE BELEN. — HIS RELIGIOUS POEMS. HIS CONNECTION WITH THE 
 
 FESTIVALS AT THE BEATIFICATION ANH CANONIZATION OF SAN ISIDRO. — 
 
 TOME DE BITRGUILLOS. LA GATOMACHIA. — AN ATTO T)E KK. TRIINFOS 
 
 DIA'INOS. POEM ON MARY QfEEN OK SCOTS. LAUREL I>E APOLO. 
 
 DOROTEA. HIS OLD AGE AND DEATH. 
 
 Just at the time the Jerusalem was published, Lope 
 began to wear the livery of his Church. Indeed, it is 
 on the title-page of this very poem that he, for the 
 first time, announces himself as a " Familir.r of the 
 Holy Inquisition." Proofs of the change in his life 
 are soon apparent in his works. In 1612, he published 
 " The Shepherds of Bethlehem," a long pastoral in 
 prose and verse, divided into five books. It contains 
 the sacred history, according to the more popular tra- 
 ditions of the author's Church, from the birth of Mary, 
 the Saviour's mother, to the arrival of the holy family 
 in Egypt, — all supposed to be related or enacted by 
 shepherds in the neighborhood of Bethlehem, at the 
 time the events occurred. 
 
 Like the other prose pastorals written at the same 
 period, it is full of incongruities. Some of the poems, 
 in particular, are as inappropriate and in as bad taste 
 as can well be conceived ; and why three or four poet- 
 ical contests for prizes, and several common Spanish 
 games, are introduced at all, it is not easy to imagine, 
 since they are permitted by the conditions of no possi- 
 ble poetical theory for such fictions. But it must be 
 confessed, on the other hand, that there runs through 
 the whole an air of amenity and gentleness well suited
 
 208 THE I'ASTOKES I)K JJKLEN. [Pkki.u. If. 
 
 to its subject and purpose. .Several stories from 
 *177 the Old Testament are gracefully * told, and 
 
 translations from the Psalms and other parts of 
 the Jewish Scriptures are bi'ought in with a happy 
 effect. Some of the original poetry, too, is to be placed 
 among the best of Lope's minor compositions ; — such 
 as the following imaginative little song, which is sup- 
 posed to have been sung in a palm-grove, by the Ma- 
 donna, to her sleeping child, and is as full of the tender- 
 est feelings of Catholic devotion as one of Murillo's 
 pictures on the same subject : — 
 
 Holy aiigfls ami lilest, 
 
 Through these palms as ye sweep 
 Hold tlu'ii- hianches at rest. 
 
 For my liabe is asleep. 
 
 And ye IJethlehem palm-trees, 
 
 As stormy "^vinds n;sli 
 In temi)est and fury, 
 
 Your angry noise hush ; — 
 Move gently, move gently, 
 
 Restrain your wild sweep ; 
 Hold your Inamlies at rest, — 
 
 My babe is asleep. 
 
 Jly babe all divine. 
 
 With earth's sorrows oppressed. 
 Seeks in slumber an instant 
 
 His grievings to rest ; • 
 
 He slumliers, — he slumbers, — 
 
 0, hush, then, and keep 
 Your branches all still, — 
 
 My babe is asleep ! 
 
 Cold blasts wheel alrout him, — 
 
 A rigorous stoi'm, — 
 And ye .see how, in vain, 
 
 I would shelti'r his form ; — 
 Holy angels and blest. 
 
 As above me ye sweep. 
 Hold these branches at rest, — 
 
 My babe is asleep I ^ 
 
 I Pues andais en laji palmas, I'almas de Bclen, 
 
 Angeles KanU>8, Que imieven ayrados 
 
 Que se duernie mi njno, Coit furiows vientos, 
 
 Tencd loc niuj0i<. Que sueuan tanto,
 
 rii.w. xiv.J 
 
 MISCELLANIES. 
 
 209 
 
 * The whole work is dedicated witli great * 178 
 tenderness, in a tew siin])le wor^s, to Carlos, 
 the little son that died before he was seven years old, 
 and of whom l^ope always speaks so lovingly. But it 
 hi'eaks olF abruptly, and was never finished; — why, 
 it is not easy to tell, lor jt was well received, and was 
 |)rinted four times in as many years. 
 
 In 1612, the year of the publication of this pas- 
 toral, Lope printed a few religious ballads and some 
 "Thoughts in Prose," which he pretended were trans- 
 lated from the Latin of Gabriel Padecopeo, an imper- 
 fect anagram of his own name ; and in 1G14, there 
 appeared a volimie containing, first, a collection of his 
 short sacred poems, to which were afterwards added 
 four solemn and striking poetical Soliloquies, composed 
 Avhile he knelt before a cross on the day he was re- 
 ceived into the Society of Penitents ; then two con- 
 templative discourses, written at the request of his 
 brethren of the same society ; and finally, a short 
 spiritual Romancero, or ballad-book, and a" Via Crucis," 
 or meditations on the passage of the Saviour from the 
 judgment-seat of Pilate to the hill of Calvary.'-^ 
 
 Many of these poems are full of a deep and solemn 
 devotion ;'^ others are strangely coarse and free ;*and a 
 few are merely whimsical and trifling.^ Some of the 
 more religious of the ballads are still simg about the 
 
 No le hagais ruido, 
 Corred raaa passo ; 
 Que se duerme jni niiio, 
 Tened los ramos. 
 
 El nino divino, 
 
 Que esti cansado 
 
 De ilorar en la tierra : 
 
 Por su descanso, 
 
 Sosegar quiere un poco 
 
 Del tierno llanto ; 
 
 Que se duerme nii nino, 
 
 Tened los ramos. 
 
 Rigurosos hielos 
 
 Le estan cercando, 
 Ya veis que no tengo 
 Con que guardarlo ; 
 
 L. II. 14 
 
 Angeles di vinos, 
 Que vais volando, 
 Que se duerme mi nino, 
 Tened los ramos. 
 Obras Sueltas, Tom. XVI. p. .3.32. 
 
 2 Obras, Tom. XIIL, etc. 
 
 ^ For instance, the sonnet l)eginning, 
 "Yo dormire en el polvo." Obras, 
 Tom. XIIL p. 186. 
 
 * Such as " Gertrudis siendo Dios tan 
 amoroso." Obras, Tom. XIIL p. 223. 
 
 ^ Some of tliem are very flat ; — see 
 the sonnet, " Quando en tu alcazar de 
 Sion." Obras, Tom. XIIL p. 225.
 
 210 THE FIRST FESTIVAL OF SA^' ISIDliO. [Pkkioi. IL 
 
 streets of Madrid by blind begu-ars ; — a testiniony 
 to the devout fe^ngs which, oeeasionally at least> 
 glowed in their authors heart, that is not to be mis- 
 taken. These poems, howevei'. with an account of the 
 niartvrdom of a considerable number of Christians at 
 Jajjan. in 1614. whic^ was 2)rinted four years 
 *]T'J latei-," were all the miscellaneous works * pub- 
 lished by Lope between 1612 and 102(1 : — the 
 rest of his time during this jxM'iod having ap])arently 
 l)C('ii lilled with his l)i-iHiant successes in the drama. 
 l)oth secular and sacred. 
 
 But in 1()20 and 1622, he had an opportunity to ex- 
 hibit himself to the mass of the people, as well as to 
 the coui-t. at Madrid, in a chai'acter which, being both 
 reliuTOUs and dramatic, was admirablv suited to his 
 powers and pretensions. It was the double occasion 
 of the beatification and the canonization of Saint 
 Isidore, in whose honor, above twenty years earlier. 
 Lope had made one of his most successful efforts for 
 popnlarit}', — a long interval, but one during which 
 the claims of the Saint had been l)y no means over- 
 looked. On the contrary, the king, from the time 
 of his restoration to health, had l)een constantly so- 
 liciting tlic Inmors of the Church for a personage to 
 whose miraculous interposition he believed himself 
 to owe it. At last they were granted, and the 19th of 
 May, 1620, was appointed for celebi-ating the beatifi- 
 cation of the pious "Ploughman of Madrid." 
 
 Such occasions were now often seized in the princi- 
 pal cities of Spain, as a means alike of exhibiting the 
 talents of their poets, and amusing and interesting the 
 mullitudc; — the Church gladly contril)Uting its au- 
 th(jrif \- to suljstitute, as far as ])ossible, a sort of ])oeti- 
 
 ' 'I'liiiiiifo lie la I'Y- en los Kcyiio.s del .Tiijion. Olnas, Toin. X\'ll.
 
 Chap. XI V.J THE FlllhT FESTIVAL OF 8 AX FSIDIIO. 
 
 211 
 
 ml toiii'iiaincnt, held iiiKlcr its own maiiageiiieiit, lor 
 the chiviilroiis tomiiaiiicnts Avliicli had for centuries 
 exercisi'd so grcal and so irreligious an iiilluence 
 throughout Europe. At any rate, these literjirv con- 
 tests, in which honors and prizes of various kinds were 
 oflered, were called '^ Poetical Joustings," and early 
 hecanie favorite entei'tainuients with the mass of the 
 people. We have already noticed such festivals, as 
 early as the end of the fifteenth century ; and besides 
 the prize which, as we have seen, Cervantes gained at 
 Saragossa in May, loDo,' Lope gained one at Toledo, 
 in June, IGOS;*^ and in September, 1G14, he was the 
 judge at a poetical festival in honor of the 
 =**^ beatification of Saint Theresa, at Madrid, =* 180 
 where the rich tones of his voice and his grace- 
 ful style of reading were much admired.^ 
 
 Tlie occasion of the beatification of the Saint who 
 presided over the fortunes of Madrid was, however, 
 one of more solemn importance than either of these 
 had been. iVll classes of the inhabitants of that " He- 
 roic Town," as it is still called, took an interest in it ; 
 
 ■^ See anti'. Vol. I. p. :^>lt."), ami Vol. 
 II. p. 114. 
 
 '' The successful poem, a jesting bal- 
 lad of very siuall merit, is in the OLras 
 Sueltas, Tom. XXI. pp. 171-177. 
 
 8 An account of some of the poetical 
 Joustings of thi.s period is to be found 
 in Navarrete, " Vida de Cervantes," 
 S 162, with the notes, p. 48(5, and in 
 the Spanish translation of tins History, 
 Tom. in. pp. 527-529. I have seen 
 numy of them and read a few. They 
 have almost no value. A good illustra- 
 tion of the mode in which they were 
 conducted is to be found in the "Justa 
 Poetica," in honor of Our Lady of the 
 Pillar at Saragossa, collected by Juan 
 Bautista Felices de Caoeres, (Qarago(;a, 
 lt)29, 4to,) in which Joseph de Valdi- 
 vielso aTul Vargas Machuca figured. 
 Su(!h joustings became so freijuent at 
 last, and .so pooi', as to be subjects of 
 
 ridicule. In the "( 'aba Hero Descortcs" 
 of Salas Barbadillo, (Madrid, 1621, 
 12mo, f. 99, etc.,) there is a ccrtdmeii 
 in honor of the recovery of a lost hat ; 
 — merely a light caricature. In an- 
 other of his satirical work.s, (La Esta- 
 feta dcd Dios Momo, 1627,) which is 
 a collection of letters in ridicule of ex- 
 travagances and extravagant jieojile, 
 Barbadillo spealcs, in Epistola XVII., 
 of a shoemaker who set up to have a 
 certdmen, and offered prizes for it. 
 Sometimes, however, they were veiy 
 devout. One on the canonization of 
 San Pedro de Alcantara in 1670 is emi- 
 nently such, consisting mainly of six- 
 teen sermons appended to the po(!tical 
 honors of the occasion. It was prepared 
 by Antonio de Huerta and makes four 
 hundred and forty-five pages, under the 
 title of Triumfos Glorio.sos, ec. There 
 could hardly be a more dull book.
 
 212 THE FIRST FESTIVAL OF SAX ISIDRO. [rEr.iop 11. 
 
 for it was believed to concern the well-being of all.^" 
 The Church of Saint Andrew, in which reposed the 
 body of the worth}^ Ploughman, was ornamented with 
 unwonted splendor. The merchants of the city com- 
 pletely encased its altars with plain, but pure silver. 
 The o'oldsmiths enshrined the form of the Saint, which 
 five centuries had not wasted away, in a sarcopha- 
 gus of the same metal, elaborately wrought. Other 
 classes brought other offerings ; all marked by the gor- 
 geous wealth that then flowed through the privileged 
 portions of Spanish societ}-, from the mines of Peru 
 and Mexico. In front of the church a show}^ stage 
 was erected, from which the poems sent in for prizes 
 were read, and over this part of the ceremonies Lope 
 
 presided. 
 * 181 * As a sort of prologue, a few satirical peti- 
 tions were produced, which were intended to 
 excite merriment, and, no doubt, were successful ; 
 after Avhich Lope opened the literar}' proceedings of 
 the festival, by pronouncing a poetical oration of above 
 seven hundred lines in honor of San Isidro. This was 
 followed by reading the subjects for the nine prizes 
 offered by the nine Muses, together with the rules 
 according to which the honors of the occasion were to 
 be adjudged ; and then came the poems themselves. 
 Among the competitors Avere many of the principal 
 men of letters of the time : Zarate, Guillen de Castro, 
 
 1'' The di'tails of tlie festival, with Paihia, five tliousaml ]i()eiiis of ditfereiit 
 
 the poems offered on the occasion, were kinds were offered ; wiiich, after tlio 
 
 neatly ])rinted at Madrid, in 1620, in a best of them had been iuing lound the 
 
 small ([uarto, If. 140, and fdl about church and the cloisters of tlie monks 
 
 three hundied pa^^os in the eleventh who originally jirojiosed tlie prizes, were 
 
 volume of Lope's Works. The number distributed to other monasteries. The 
 
 of poetical offerings was great, but much custom extended to America. In 1585, 
 
 short of what similar contests some- Balbuena carried away a prize in Mex- 
 
 times j)roduced. Figueroa says in his ico from three hundred competitors. 
 
 "Passagero," (Madrid, 1617, 12nK), f. See his Life, prefixed to the Academy's 
 
 118,) that, at a justa in Madrid a short edition of his "Siglo de Oro," Madrid, 
 
 time Ix'fore, to honor St. Antonio of 1821, 8vo.
 
 Chap. XIV. | THE SECOND FEbi'lYAL OF SAN ISIDKO. 213 
 
 Jauregiii, Es})inel, Montalvan, Pantaloon, Silveira, the 
 young Calderon, and Lope liinisellj with the son who 
 bore his name, still a boy. All this, or nearly all of it, 
 was grave, and beseeming the grave occasion. But at 
 the end of the list of those who entered their claims 
 for each prize, there always appeared a sort of masque, 
 who, under the assumed name of Master Burguillos, 
 "seasoned the feast in the most savory manner," it is 
 said, wdth his amusing verses, caricaturing the. whole, 
 like the gracioso of the popular theatre, and serving as 
 a kind of interlude after each division of the more 
 regular drama. 
 
 Lope took hardly any pains to conceal that this 
 savory part of the festival was entirely his own ; so 
 surely had his theatrical instincts indicated to him the 
 merry relief its introduction would give to the state- 
 liness and solemnity of the occasion.^^ All the various 
 performances were read by him wdtli much effect, and 
 at the end he gave a light and pleasant account, in the 
 old popular ballad measure, of wdiatever had been 
 done; after which the judges pronounced the names 
 of the successful competitors. Who they were, we are 
 not told ; but the offerings of all — those of the un- 
 successful as well as of the successful — w^ere published 
 by him without delay. 
 
 * A greater jubilee followed two years after- * 182 
 wards, when, at the opening of the reign of 
 Philip the Fourth, the negotiations of his grateful pred- 
 ecessor were crowned with a success he did not live 
 
 !'■ "But let the reader note well," introduced by Lope himself." Obra.s, 
 
 says Lope, " that the verses of Master Tom. XI. p. 401. See al.so p. 598. 
 
 Burguillos must be supposititious ; for Ko.selI(Bib. deRivadeneyra, XXXVIII., 
 
 he did not appear at the contest ; and Prologo, xvi, note) says that poems at- 
 
 all he wrote is in jest, and made the tributed to Tome de Burguillos, but in 
 
 festival very savory. And as he did the autogi'aph of Lojic, are in possession 
 
 not appear for any prize, it was gener- of the Marquis de Pidal. 
 ally believed that he was a character
 
 214 THE SECOND FESTIVAL OF SAN ISIDKO. [Period II. 
 
 to witness; and San Isidro, with three other devont 
 Spaniards, was a(hnitted by the Head of the Church at 
 Rome to the full o>lories of saintship, by a formal 
 canonization. The jieople of Madrid took little note of 
 the Papal bull, except so fiir as it concerned their own 
 particidar saint and protector. But to him the honors 
 they offered Avere abundant.^" The festival they insti- 
 tuted for the occasion lasted nine days. Eight pyr- 
 amids, >al)Ove seventy feet high, were arranged in 
 diflerent parts of the city, and nine magniiicent altars, 
 a castle, a rich garden, and a temporary theatre. All 
 the houses of the better sort were hung with gorgeous 
 tapestry ; religions processions, in which the principal 
 nobiHty took the meanest places, swept through the 
 streets ; and bull-fights, alwaj's the most popular of 
 Spanish entertainments, were added, in which above 
 two thousand of those noble animals were sacrificed in 
 amphitheatres or public squares open freely to all. 
 
 As a part of the show, a great literary contest or 
 jousting Avas held on the 19th of May, — exactly 
 two years after that held at the beatification. Again 
 Lope appeared on the stage in front of the same 
 ChiuTh of Saint Andrew, and, with similar ceremonies 
 and a similar admixture of the somewhat broad farce 
 of Tome de Burguillos, most of the leading poets of 
 the time joined in the universal homage. Lope car- 
 ried away the {)iiiicipal ])rizes. Others were given to 
 Zarate, Calderon, Montahan. and Guillen de Castro. 
 Two plays — one on the childhood and the other on 
 the youth of San Isidro, but both expressly ordered 
 from Lope by the city — were acted on open, movable 
 stages, before the king, the court, and the multitude, 
 
 ^2 The proceedings and poems of this 1622, ft'. 156, and till Tom. XII. of tlie 
 second gieat festival were printed at Obras Sueltas. 
 once at Madrid, in a quarto volume,
 
 Chap. XIV] TOE GATOMACiJlA. 215 
 
 TTiakiiig tlieir author the most prornineut figure of a 
 festival Avhich, rightly understood, goes far to 
 explain the spirit of the times and of * the * 183 
 religion on which it all depended. An account 
 of the whole, comprehending the poems offered on the 
 occasion, and his own two plan's, was published b}'' 
 Lope before the close of the year. 
 
 His success at these two jubilees was, no doubt, very 
 flattering to him. It had been of the most public kind ; 
 it had been on a very j^opular subject; and it had, per- 
 haps, brought him more into the minds and thoughts 
 of the great mass of the people, and into the active 
 interests of the time, than even his success in the the- 
 atre. The caricatures of Tome de Burguillos, in par- 
 ticular, though often rude, seem to have been received 
 with extraordinary favor. Later, therefore, he was in- 
 duced to write more verses in the same style ; and, in 
 1634, he published a volume, consisting almost wholly 
 of humorous and burlesque poems, under the same 
 disguise. Most of the pieces it contains are sonnets 
 and other short poems; — some very sharp and satir- 
 ical, and nearly all fluent and happy. But one of 
 them is of considerable length, and should be sepa- 
 rately noticed. 
 
 It is a mock-heroic, in irregular verse, divided into six 
 silvas or cantos, and is called " La Gatomachia," or the 
 Battle of the Cats ; being a contest between two cats 
 for the love of a third. Like nearly all the poems of 
 the class to which it belongs, from the " Batrachomj'O- 
 machia " downwards, it is too long. It contains about 
 twenty-five hundred lines, in various measures. But 
 if it is not the first in the Spanish language in the 
 order of time, it is the first in the order of merit. The 
 last two silvas, in particular, are written with great
 
 21G VAIilOUS MISCELLANIES. [Peimud IL 
 
 lightness and spirit ; sometimes parodying Ariosto and 
 the epic poets, and sometimes the old balhids, with the 
 gayest success. From its first appearance, therefore, it 
 has been a favorite in Spain ; and it is now, pn)l)al)ly, 
 more read tlian'any other of its author's miscelhineous 
 works. An edition printed in 1704 assumes, rather 
 than attempts to prove, that Tome de Burguillos was a 
 real personage. But few persons have ever been of 
 this opinion ; for though, when it first appeared, Lope 
 prefixed to it one of those accounts concerning 
 * 184 its pretended author that deceive * nobody, 
 yet he had, as early as the first festival in hon- 
 or of San Isidro, almost directly declared Master Bur- 
 guillos. to Ije merely a disguise for himself and a means 
 of adding interest to the occasion, — a fact, indeed, 
 plainly intimated by Quevedo in the xipprobation pre- 
 fixed to the volume, and by Coronel in the verses 
 which immediately follow.^'^ 
 
 In 1G21, just in the interval between the two festi- 
 vals, Lope published a volume containing the " Filo- 
 mena," a poem, in the first canto of which he gives 
 the mythological story of Tereus and the Nightingale, 
 and in the second, a vindication of himself, under the 
 allegory of the Nightingale's Defence against the En- 
 vious Thrush. To this he added, in the same volume, 
 '• La Tapada," a description, in octave verse, of a coun- 
 try-seat of the Duke of Braganza in Portugal ; the 
 
 1^ The edition wliicli clairn.s a sepa- "These verses are dashes from the pen 
 
 late and real existence for Burguillos is of the Spanish Phoenix " ; hints which 
 
 tliat found in the S('ventcenth volume it would have been dishonorable for 
 
 of the " Poesias Castellan.'is," collected Loik; himself to publish, unless the 
 
 l)y Feniandez and others. But, be- poems were really his own. The po- 
 
 sides the paiisages from Lope himself etry of Burguillos is in Tom. XIX. of 
 
 cited in a pr<:ceding note, Quevedo the Obras Sudtas, just as Loi)e origi- 
 
 ■say.s, in an Aprobacion to the wry vol- nally published it in 10.34. Tliere is a 
 
 ume in question, that "the style is spirited (jtMiiian translation of the Ga- 
 
 fiueh as has been seen oidy in the writ- toma(diia in Beituch's Magazin der 
 
 jngs of Lope de Vega"; and VovowA, Span, und Port. Literatur, Des.sau, 
 
 in some dech/ias prelixcd to it, adds, 1781, 8vo, Tom. I.
 
 Chai-. XIV.] VAIUOUfS MISCELLANIES. 217 
 
 "■ Andromeda," a mythological story like the Filomena; 
 '' The Fortunes of Diana," the first prose tale he ever 
 printed ; several poetical e])istles and smaller poems ; 
 and a correspondence on the subject of the New Po- 
 etry, as it was called, in which he boldly attacked the 
 school of Gongora, then at the height of its favor.^* 
 The Avhole volume added nothing to its author's per- 
 manent reputation ; but parts of it, and especially pas- 
 sages in the epistles and in the Filomena, are interest- 
 ing from the circumstance that they contain allusions 
 to his own personal history. 
 
 * Another volume, not unlike the last, fol- * 185 
 lowed hi 1624. It contains three poems in the 
 octave stanza: '• Circe,' an unfortunate amplification of 
 the well-known story found in the Odyssey; "The 
 Morning of Saint John," on the popular celebration 
 of that graceful festival in the time of Lope ; and a 
 fable on the Origin of the White Rose. To these he 
 added several epistles in prose and verse, and three 
 more prose tales, which, with the one already men- 
 tioned, constitute all the short prose fictions he ever 
 published in a separate form.^^ 
 
 The best part of this volume is, no doubt, the three 
 stories. Probably Lope was induced to write them by 
 the success of those of Cervantes, which had now 
 been published eleven years, and were already known 
 throughout Europe. But Lope's talent seems not to 
 
 1* The poems are in Tom. II. of the styh' then in fashion, to please the 
 
 0bra.s Sueltas. The discussion aljout popular taste, he continued to disap- 
 
 the new poetry is in Tom. IV. pp. ])rovc it to the last. The Novela is in 
 
 459-482; to which should be added Obras, Tom. VIII. There is, also, a. 
 
 some trifles in the same vein, scattered sonnet in the Dorotea in ridicule of 
 
 thronghhis Works, and especially a son- Cultismo, beginning, " Pululando de 
 
 net beginning, " Boscan, tarde llega- culto, Claudio amigo," wliich .should 
 
 mos"; — which, as it was printed by be noticed. 
 
 him with the "Laurel de Apolo," ^* The three ])oems are in Tom. III. ; 
 
 (1630, f. 123,) shows, that, though he the epistles in Tom. 1. pp. 279, etc. ; 
 
 himself sometimes wrote in the affected and the three tales in Tom. VIII.
 
 218 LOPE DE YEGA AX INQUISITOR. [PF.ruoD II. 
 
 liave 1)0011 more adapted to this form of composition 
 than that of the author of Don Quixote was to the 
 drama. Of this he seems to have been partially aware 
 himself; for he says of the first tale, that it was written to 
 please a lad}* in a department of letters where he never 
 tliought to have adventured, and the other three are 
 addressed to the same person, and appear to have been 
 written with the same feelings.^^' None of them excited 
 much attention at the time when the}' appeared. But, 
 twenty years afterwards, they were reprinted with four 
 others, torn, apparently, from some connected series 
 of similar stories, and certaiiih' not the work of Lope. 
 The last of the eight is the best of the collection, 
 thoug-h it ends awkwardlv, with an intimation that 
 another is to follow ; and all are thrust together into 
 the complete edition of Lope's miscellaneous works, 
 though there is no pretence for claiming any of them 
 
 to he his, except the first four.^" 
 * 18G * In the year preceding the appearance of the 
 
 tales we find him in a new character. A miser- 
 able man, a Franciscan monk, from Catalonia, was sus- 
 pected of heresy ; and the susj^icion fell on him the 
 more heavily because his mother was of the Jewish 
 faith. Having been, in consequence of this, expelled 
 successively from two religious houses of which he had 
 been a member, he seems to have become disturbed 
 in his mind, and at last grew so frantic, that, while 
 mass was celebrating in open church, he seized the 
 
 i« Obras Sucltas, Tom. VIII. p. 2; Saragossa, (1648,)Barceloria, {1650,)etc. 
 
 also Tom. III. Preface. It is to the There is .some confusion about a part of 
 
 credit of Cerda y Rico, that, when he the poems ]iul)lishetl originally with 
 
 ]>ubli.slieil these tales of Lope de Vega, the.se talcs, and which aj)pear among 
 
 he .said that the best in t\u'. language the works of Fr. JjOj)ez de Zarate, AI- 
 
 are those of Cervantes, and that Loi>e cala, lf)51, 4to. (See Lope, Obras, 
 
 -succeeds in proportion as he approaches Tom. III. p. iii.) But .such things are 
 
 them. Tom. VIII. Prologo, p. vi. not very rare in Spani.sh literature, and 
 
 '' There are editio'is of the eight at will oc<'ur again in relation to Zarate.
 
 Chap. XIV.j LOTE DE VEGA AN INQUlblTOli. 219 
 
 consecrated host from the hands of the officiating priest 
 and violently destroyed it. He was at once arrested 
 and given up to the Inquisition. The Inquisition, find- 
 ing him obstinate, declared him to be a Lutheran and 
 a Calvinist, and, adding to this the crime of his Hebrew 
 descent, delivered him over to the secular arm for 
 punishment. He was, almost as a matter of course, 
 ordered to be burned alive ; and in January, 1623, the 
 sentence was literall}^ executed outside the gate of 
 Alcala at Madrid. The excitement was great, as it 
 always was on such occasions. An immense concourse 
 of people was gathered to witness the edifying spec- 
 tacle ; the court was present ; the theatres and public 
 shows were suspended for a fortnight ; and we are told 
 that Lope de Vega, who, in some parts of his " Dragon- 
 tea," shows a spirit not unworthy of such an office, was 
 one of those who presided at the loathsome sacrifice 
 and directed its ceremonies.^^ 
 
 His fanaticism, however, in no degree diminished 
 his zeal for poetry. In 1625, he published his " Divine 
 Triumphs," a poem in five cantos, in the measure and 
 the manner of Petrarch, beginning with the triumphs 
 of " the Divine Pan," and ending with those of Religion 
 and the Cross.^^ It was a failure, and the more obviously 
 so, because its very title placed it in direct contrast 
 with the "Trionfi" of the great Italian master. It 
 was accompanied, in the same volume, by a small 
 collection * of sacred poetry^ which was increased . * 187 
 in later editions until it became a large one. 
 Some of it is truly tender and solemn, as, for instance, 
 
 1^ The account is found in a MS. death. It is cited, and an abstract of 
 
 history of Madrid, by Leon Pinelo, in it Ejiven, in Casiano Pellicer, " Origen 
 
 the King's Libraiy ; and so much as de las Comedias," (Madrid, 1804, 12mo,) 
 
 relates to this subject I possess, as well Tom. I. pp. 104, 105. 
 
 as a notice of Lope himself, given in ^^ Obras Sueltas, Tom. XIII. 
 the same MS. under the date of his
 
 220 THE CORONA TEAGICA. [Period, II. 
 
 the cancion ou the death of his son,"^ and the f^oiinet on 
 liis own death, beginning, '' I must lie down and sluni- 
 l)er in the dust" ; while other parts, like the villancicos 
 to the Holy Sacrament, are written with iinseemh^ 
 levity, and are even sometimes coarse and sensual?^ 
 All, however, are specimens of w^iat respectable and 
 cultivated Spaniards in that age called religion. 
 
 A similar remark may be made in relation to the 
 " Corona Tragica," The Tragic Crown, which he pub- 
 lished in 1627, on the history and fjite of the unhappy 
 Mary of Scotland, who had perished just forty 3'ears 
 before.^ It is intended to be a religious epic, and fills 
 five books of octave stanzas. But it is, in fact, merelj^ 
 a specimen of intolerant controversy. Mary is repre- 
 sented as a pure and glorious martyr to the Catholic 
 faith, while Elizabeth is alternately called a Jezebel 
 and an Athaliah, wdiom it was a doubtful merit in 
 Philip the Second to have spared, wdien, as king-con- 
 sort of England, he had her life in his power.^ In 
 other respects it is a dull poem ; beginning with an 
 account of Mary's previous history, as related by her- 
 self to her women in prison, and ending with her death. 
 But it savors throughout of its author's sympathy with 
 the religious spirit of his age and country ; — a sjjirit, 
 it should be remembered, which made the Inquisition 
 what it was. 
 
 The Corona Tragica w^as, however, perhaps on this 
 very account, thought w^orthy of being dedicated to 
 Pope Urban the Eighth, wdio had himself written an 
 
 '^ A la Muerte de Carlos Felix, Obras, Ovando, the Maltese envoy, and pub- 
 Tom. XIII. p. 365. lished at the end of the "Laurel de 
 
 21 Set- particularly the two beginning Apolo," (Madrid, 1630, 4to, f. 118,) 
 on pp. 413 and 423. he gives an account of this poem, and 
 
 22 It is in (Jbras Sueltas, Tom. IV. says he wrote it in tlie country, where 
 28 The atrocious passage is on p. 5. " the soul in solitude labors more gently 
 
 In an epistle, which he addres-sed to and easily " !
 
 Chai". xiv.] the laurel de apolo. 221 
 
 epitaph on the unfortunate Mary of Scotland, which 
 Lope, in courtly phrase, declared was " beatitying lier 
 in prophecy." The flattery was well received. Urban 
 sent the poet in i-eturn a complimentary letter ; 
 gave him a degree of Doctor in * Divinity, and * 188 
 the Cross of the Order of Saint John ; and ap- 
 pointed him to the honorary j)laces of Fiscal in the 
 Apostolic Chamber, and Notary of the Roman Archives. 
 The measure of his ecclesiastical honors was now full. 
 
 In 1630, he published "The Laurel of Apollo," a 
 poem somewhat like '"^The Journey to Parnassus" 
 of Cervantes, but longer, more elaborate, and still 
 more unsatisfactory. It describes a festival, supposed 
 to have been held by the God of Poetry, on Mount 
 Helicon, in April, 1628, and records the honors then 
 bestowed on above three hundred Spanish poets ; — a 
 number so great, that the whole account becomes 
 monotonous and almost valueless, partly from the 
 impossibility of drawing with distinctness or truth so 
 many characters of little prominence, and partly from 
 its too free praise of nearly all of them. It is divided 
 into ten silras, and contains about seven thousand 
 irregular verses.^* 'At the end, besides a few minor 
 and miscellaneous poems, Lope added an eclogue, in 
 seven scenes, which had been previously represented 
 before the king and court with a costly magnificence 
 in the theatre and a splendor in its decorations that 
 show, at least, how great was the favor he enjoyed, 
 when he was indulged, for so slight an offering, with 
 such royal luxuries.^^ 
 
 2* 111 Volume XXXVin. (1856) of nrae itself, which consists of a selection 
 the Biblioteca de Autores Espauoles, is from the Obras Sueltas of Lope, pub- 
 a list of all the authors mentioned by lished by Cerda y Rico in twenty-one 
 Lope in his "Laurel de Apolo," with volumes, is well compiled by Don Cay- 
 bibliographical notices of their works etano Rosell. 
 that are fre(juently of value. The vol- ^^ It is not easy to tell why these
 
 222 THE DOROTEA. [Peiuud II. 
 
 The last considerable work he })u))lished was his 
 "Dorotea," a lon<j: prose romance in dialogue.'-'' It was 
 Avritten in liis voutli. and. as has Ijeen already sug- 
 gested, probably contains more or less of his own 
 youthful adventures and feelings. But whether this 
 be so or not, it was a favorite with him. He calls 
 it " the most beloved of his works," and says he has 
 revised it with care and made many additions 
 * 1S9 to it in his old age.-' *lt was first printed 
 in l(Jo2. A moderate amount of verse is scat- 
 tered through it, and there is a freshness and a reality 
 in many passages that remind us constantly of its 
 author's life before he served as a soldier in the 
 Armada. The hero, Fernando, is a poet, like Lope, 
 who, after havino- been more than once in love and 
 married, refuses Dorotea, the object of his first attach- 
 ment, and becomes religious. There is, however, little 
 plan, consistency, or final purpose in most of the mani- 
 fold scenes that go to make up its five long acts ; and 
 it is noAv read only for its rich and easy prose style, 
 for the glimpses it seems to give of the author's own 
 life, and for a few of its short poems, some of which 
 were probably written for occasions not inilike those to 
 which they are here ap])lied. 
 
 The last work he printed was an eclogue in honor 
 of a Portuguese lady; and the last things he wrote — 
 only the day before he was seized witli his mortal ill- 
 ness — were a short poem on the Dolik'n Age, remark- 
 later productions of Lope are put in in the work ; not above a liundred and 
 the first volumi- of his Miscellaneous iift}', but very good, and chiefly taken 
 Works, (1776-1779,) but so it is. Tliat from tlie part of Gerarda, who is an 
 collection was made by Cerda y Rico ; imitation of Celcstina. 
 a man of learn inf;, though not of good -'' "Dorotea, the posthumous child 
 
 taste or sound judgment. of my Muse, tlie most beloved of my 
 
 '^ It fills the wlioli- of the seventli long-protracted life, still asks the public 
 volume of liis Obras Suiltas. At tlu; liglit," etc. Egloga a Claudio ; Obras, 
 end is a collection of the prover])S.used Tom. IX. p. 367.
 
 Chap. XIV. j ILLNESS AND DEATH OF LOPE DE VEGA. 223 
 
 able i'oY its vigor and liarinoiiy, uiid a sonnet on the 
 ileath of a friend.'^*^ All of tlieni are found in a collec- 
 tion, consisting chiefly of a few dramas, published by 
 his son-in-law, Luis de Usategui, two years after Lope's 
 death. 
 
 But, as his life drew to a close, his religious feelings, 
 riiingled with a melancholy fanaticism, predominated 
 more and more. Much of his poetry composed at this 
 time expressed them ; and at last they rose to such a 
 height, that he Avas almost constantl}^ in a state of ex- 
 cited melancholy, or, as it was then beginning to be 
 called, of liypochondria.^^ Early in the month of 
 August, he felt himself extremely weak, and suffered 
 more than ever from that sense of discourage- 
 ment which was breaking * down his resources * 190 
 and strength. His thoughts, however, were so 
 exclusively occupied with his spiritual condition, that, 
 <iven wdien thus reduced, he continued to fast, and on 
 one occasion Avent through with a private discipline so 
 ■cruel, that the walls of the apartment where it oc- 
 curred were afterwards found sprinkled with his blood. 
 From this he never recovered. He w^as taken ill the 
 «ame night ; and after fulfilling the offices prescribed 
 by his Church w^ith the most submissive devotion, — 
 
 2^ These three poems — curious as his dria," etc., is the description Montalvan 
 
 last works — are in Tom. X. p. 193, gives of his disease. The account of his 
 
 and Tom. IX. pp. 2 and 10. Of the last days follows it. Obras, Tom. XX. 
 
 very rare iirst edition of this, the last pp. 37, etc. ; and Baena, Hijos de IVIa- 
 
 piiblication of Lope made by himself, drid, Tom. III. pp. 360-363. The 
 
 I have a cop\-. It is entitled ' ' Fills same account of In'pochondria is given 
 
 Egloga a la Uecima Musa, Dona Ber- in the last Jornada of Calderon's "Me- 
 
 narda Ferreira de la Cerda, Senora dico de su Hom-a." Jacinta there ask.s, 
 
 Portuguesa, Frei Lope Felix de Vega "Que es hipocondria ? " to which Co- 
 
 Carpio, del abito de San Juan, Aho qnin replies : — 
 
 1635." It is poorly printed in duo- E? una enfemiedad que no la habia, 
 
 decimo and makes eleven leaves, be- Habra dos anos, ni en el mundo era. 
 
 sides the title. The lady to whom it Hartzenbusch places tliis play in 1635, 
 
 is addressed is the well-known poetess the year of Lope's death, and does it 
 
 iwticed ]}os(, Chap. XXVIII. on apparently good grounds. The two 
 
 ^^ "A continued melantholy passion, accounts about hypochondria, therefore, 
 
 which of late has lieen called hypochou- correspond exactly.
 
 224 ILl.NE.S.S AND DEATH OF LOPE DE VEGA. [Peiuod IL 
 
 mourning that he had ever been engaged in any occu- 
 pations but such as were exclusively religious, — he 
 died on the 27th of August, 1635, nearly seventy-three 
 years old. 
 
 The sensation j^roduced by his death was such as is 
 rarely witnessed, even in the case of those upon whom 
 depends the Avelfare of nations. Tlie Duke of Sessa. 
 who was his especial patron, and to whom he left his 
 manuscripts, provided for the funeral in a mauuer 
 becoming his own wealth and rank.*' It lasted nine 
 daj-s. The crowds that thronged to it were immense."^ 
 Three bishops officiated, and the first nobles of the 
 land attended as mourners. Eulogies and poems fol- 
 lowed, on all sides, and in numbers all but incredible. 
 Those written in Spain make one considerable volume, 
 and end with a drama in which his apotheosis wa.s 
 brought upon the public stage. Those written in Italy 
 are hardly less numerous, and fill another.^ But more 
 touching than any of them was the prayer of that 
 much-loved daughter who had been shut up from the 
 world fourteen jears, that the long funeral procession 
 might pass by her convent, and permit her once 
 * 191 * more to look on the fice she so tenderly ven- 
 erated ; and more solemn than any was the 
 niournino" of the multitude, from whose dense mass 
 
 ^' See Lope's remarkable Dedication that appeared inniiediateh' after lii.s- 
 
 of his "Comedias," Tom. IX., 1618, to death, we are told that "el eoueur.so 
 
 the Dufjiie de Ses.sa. The Mar(|uis of de fjeiite que aciulio a su casa a verle y 
 
 Pidal, a munificent patron of Spanish al entierro fue el mayor <[ue se ha visto." 
 
 literature, and one of the most accom- '" See 01)ras Sueltas, Tom. XIX. - 
 
 pli.shed scholars in the early literature XXI., in which they are republi-shed, 
 
 of his country, is .said to possess a con- — Spani.sh, Latin, French, Italian, and 
 
 sidcrable number of Lo])e's letters to Portuguese. The Spanish, which were 
 
 the Duke of Sessa, whom he addresses brought together by Montalvan, and 
 
 under the name of Lucindo. I hope an; preceded by his " Fama Posturaa 
 
 they may be printed. de Lope de Veg*. " may be regarded as 
 
 ^1 In thcPi'eface tothe "Famaimmor- a sort of J uMa poefica in honor of the 
 
 tal del Fenix de Europa," ec, by .Juan gi'eat poet, in which above a hundred 
 
 de la Peiia, (Madrid, 1()3.'>, 12mo, ff. 16,) and fifty of his contemporaries bore 
 
 one (if the multitudinous jiublications their part.
 
 •'.'iiAr. 
 
 XIV.J ILLNESS AXI) DEATH OF LOPE BE VEGA. 220 
 
 audible sobs burst Ibrth. as his remains slowly cle- 
 iscended from their sight into the house apppointed 
 for all livin":.*^ 
 
 *5 Obras Sucltas, Tom. XX. p. 42. 
 For an excellent and intfi-cstinj^ ilisnu.s- 
 •sion of Lope'.s miscellaneous works, and 
 onc! to which I have been indebted in 
 wiiting this chapter, see London Qnar- 
 terly Review, No. 35, 1818. It is by 
 .Mr. Southey. 
 
 Lope's will, I think, has never been 
 published, though I have seen an ab- 
 stract of it. Having, however, ob- 
 tained, through the kindness of the 
 last Lord Holland, a copy of it, which 
 Navarrete sent to his father, the author 
 •of Lope's Life, saying that he had found 
 it in " El Archive de Escrituras de Ma- 
 drid," when he was searching for the 
 will of Cervantes, I give it here entire, 
 a.s a curious and important document. 
 
 "TESTAMEN'TO de lope de VEGA. 
 
 ' ' En el nombre de Dios nuestro Se- 
 hor, amen. Sepan los que vieren esta 
 escritura de testamento y ultima volun- 
 tad, como yo Frey Lope Felix de Vega 
 C'arpio, Presbitero de la sagrada religion 
 de San Juan, estando enfermo en la 
 cania de enfermedad que Dios nuestro 
 Senor fue servido de me dar, y en mi 
 niemoria, juicio y entendimiento natu- 
 ral, creyendo y confesando, como ver- 
 daderamente creo y confieso, el misterio 
 -de la Ssma. Trinidad, Padre, Hijo y 
 Espiritu Santo, que son tres personas y 
 un solo Dios verdadero, y lo denias que 
 cree y ensena la Santa Madre Igle.sia Oa- 
 tolica Romana, y en esta fe me giielgo 
 haber vivido y protesto vivir y morir : 
 y con esta invocacion divina otorgo mi 
 testamento, desapropiamiento y decla- 
 racion en la forma siguiente. 
 
 " Lo primero, encomiendo mi alma a 
 Dios nuestro Senor que la hizo y crio a 
 su imagen y semejanza y la redimio por 
 su pi-eciosa sangre, al qual suplico la 
 perdone y lleve a su santa gloria, para 
 lo qual pongo por mi intercesora a la 
 Sacratisinia Virgen Maria, concebida 
 sin pecado original, y a todos los Santos 
 y Santas de la corte del cielo ; y defunto 
 mi cuerpo sea restituido a la tierra de 
 que fue formado. 
 
 " Difunto mi cuerpo, sea vestido con 
 
 las insignias de la dicha religion de San 
 
 Juan, y sea depositado en la iglesia y 
 
 lugar que ordenara el eximo. sr. Duque 
 
 VOL. II. 15 
 
 de Sessa mi senor ; y paguese los de- 
 re chos. 
 
 "El dia de mi entierroj si fuere hora 
 y si no otro siguiente, se diga por mi 
 alma misa cantada de cuerpo presente 
 en la forma que se acostumbra con los 
 demas religiosos ; y en quanto al acom- 
 panamiento de mi entiei-ro, honras, no- 
 venario y demas exeguias y misas de 
 alma y rezadas que por mi alma se han 
 de decir, lo dexo al parecer de mis alba- 
 ceas, 6 de la persona <pie legitimamente 
 le tocare esta dispo.sicion. 
 
 " Declaro que, antes de ser sacerdote 
 y religioso, fui casado segun orden de 
 la Santa Madre Iglesia con D*. Juana 
 de Guardio, hija de Antonio de Guardio 
 y D*. Maria de Collantes, su muger, 
 difuutos, vecinos que fueron desta villa, 
 J la dha. mi muger traxo por dote suyo 
 a mi poder viente y dos mil trescientos 
 y ochenta y dos rs. de plata doble, e yo 
 la hice de arras quinientos dncados, de 
 que otorgue escritura ante Juan de 
 Pina, y dellos so}^ deudor a D». Feli- 
 ciana Felix del Carpio, mi hija linica y 
 de la dicha de mi muger, a quien mando 
 se paguen y restituyaii de lo mejor de 
 mi hacienda con las ganancias que le 
 tocare. 
 
 "Declaro que la dicha D*. Feliciana, 
 mi hija, esta casada con Luis de Usate- 
 gui, vecino de esta villa, y al tiempo 
 que se trato el dicho casamiento le 
 ofreci cinco mil ducados de dote, com- 
 prehendiendose en ellos lo que a la dicha 
 mi hija le tocase de sus abuelos ma- 
 ternos, y dellos otorg(') scriptura ante el 
 dho. Juan de Pina, a que me remito, 
 y respecto de haber estado yo alcanzado 
 no he pagado ni satisfecho por cuento 
 de la dicha dote mrs. ni otra cosa algu- 
 na, aunque he cobrado de la herencia 
 del otro mi suegro algunas cantidades, 
 como parecera de las cartas de pago que 
 ho dado : mando se les paguen los dho. 
 cinco mil ducados. 
 
 "A las man das forzosas si algun de- 
 recho tienen, les mando quatro rs. 
 
 " A los lugares santos de Jerusalem 
 mando veinte rs. 
 
 ' ' Para ca.samiento de doncellas guerfa- 
 nas un real = y para ayuda de la beati- 
 ficacion de la Beata Maria de la Cabeza 
 otro real.
 
 226 
 
 THE WILL OF LOPE LE VEGA. 
 
 [PErauD IL 
 
 "Y 2'iira cum])lir y jtagar este uii 
 testanieiito y (U'claracion, iionibro por 
 mis alliat-eas a el dho. eximo. sr. 
 * 192 Duque de Sessa, * Dn. Luis Fer- 
 nandez de Cordoba, y Luis de Usa- 
 tegui, nai yeriio, y a qualquiera de los 
 dos in solidum, a los quales con esta 
 faeultad doy jjoder para (jue luego que 
 yo fallezca vendan de mis bieiies los 
 necesarios, y cumplau este testameuto, 
 y les dure el tiempo necesario aunque 
 sea pasado el ano del albaceazgo. 
 
 "Declare que el Rey nuestro senor 
 (Dios le gue.) usando de su beuignidad 
 y lai'gueza, ha muchos aiios que en re- 
 muneracion de el muclio afecto y volun- 
 tad con que le he servido, me ofrecio 
 dar un oficio para la persona (^ue casase 
 con la dha. mi hija, confonne a la cali- 
 dad de la dha. persona, y porque con 
 esta esperanza tuvo efecto el dho. matri- 
 monio, y el dho. Luis de Usategui, mi 
 yemo, es hombre principal y noble, y 
 esta muy alcanzado, suplico a S. M. 
 con toda' hmuildad y al eximo. sr. Coude 
 Duque en atencion de lo referido honre 
 al dho. mi yerno, haciendole merced, 
 como lo fio de su grandeza. 
 
 "Cobrese todo lo que paveciere me 
 deben, y paguese lo que legitimameute 
 pareciere que j^o debo. 
 
 "Y cumplido, en el remanente de 
 todos mis bienes, derechos y acciones, 
 nombro jior mi heredera uni\'ersal a la 
 dha. D". Feliciana Felix del I'arpio, mi 
 hija linica ; y en quauto li los que puedeu 
 
 tocar i'l !a dha. sagrada religion de San 
 Juan tamhien cumpliendo con los e.sta- 
 tutos dclla nombro a ia dha. sagrada 
 religion para ipie cada uno Ueve lo que 
 le perteueciere. 
 
 "Kevoco y doy por ningunos y de 
 ningun efecto todos y qualesquier testa- 
 mentos, cobdicilos, desapropiamientos, 
 mandas, legados y ])oderes para te.star 
 (jue antes de este haya fecho y otorgado 
 por escrito, de palabra, 6 en otra qual- 
 (^uier manera que no valgaran, ne ha- 
 gan fe, en juicio ni fuera del, salvo este 
 ([ue es mi tcstamento, declaracion y 
 desapropiamiento, en (pial quiere y 
 mauda se guarde y cumpla por tal, 6 
 como mejor haya lugar de derecho. Y 
 lo otorgo ausi ante el presente escribaua 
 del numero y testigos de yuso escritos 
 en la villa de Madrid a veinte y seis 
 dias del mes de Agosto ano de mil y 
 seis cieutos y treinta y cinco ; e yo el 
 dho. escribano doy fe conozco al dho. 
 senor otorgante, el qual parecio estaba 
 en su juicio y eutendimieuto natural, y 
 lo firmo : testigos el Dr. Felipe de Yer- 
 gpora medico, }• Juan de Prado, platero 
 de oro, y el licenciado, Josef Ortiz de 
 Yillena, presbitero, y D. Juan de Solis 
 y Diego de Logrono, residentes en esta 
 corte, y tambien lo firmaron tres de los 
 testigos = F. Lope PYdix de Vega Car- 
 pio = El Dr. Felipe de Yergara Testigo. 
 = D. Juan de Solis = El licdo. Josef 
 Ortiz de Yillena = Ante mi : Francisco 
 de Morales.
 
 * CHAPTER XV. *193 
 
 LOPE DE VEGA, CONTINUED. CIIAKACTER OF HIS MISCELLANEOUS WORKS. — 
 
 HIS DRAMAS. IIIS LIFE AT VALENCIA. HIS MORAL PLAYS. HIS SUC- 
 CESS AT MADRID. VAST NUMBER OF HIS DRA3IAS. THEIR FOUNDATION 
 
 AND THEIR VARIOUS FORMS. HIS COMEDIAS DE CAPA Y ESPADA, AND 
 
 THEIR CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 The works of Lope de Vega that we have consid- 
 ered, while tracing his long and brilliant career, are 
 far from being sufficient to explain the degree of pop- 
 ular admiration tliat, almost from the first, followed 
 him. They show, indeed, much original talent, a still 
 greater power of invention, and a wonderful facility of 
 versification. But they are rarely imbued with the 
 deep and earnest spirit of a genuine poetry ; they gen- 
 erally have an air of looseness and want of finish ; and 
 most of them are without that national physiognomy 
 and character, in Avhich, after all, resides so much of 
 the effective power of genius over any people. 
 
 The truth is, that Lope, in what have been called 
 his miscellaneous works, was seldom in the path that 
 leads to final success. He was turned aside by a spirit 
 which, if not that of the whole people, was the spirit 
 of the court and the higher classes of Castilian society. 
 Boscan and Garcilasso, who preceded him by only half 
 a century, had made themselves famous by giving cur- 
 rency to the lighter forms of Italian verse, especially 
 those of the sonnet and the canzone ; and Lope, who 
 found these fortunate poets the idols of the period, 
 when his own character was forming, thought that to
 
 228 THE WORKS of lope DE VEGA. [Peuiud II. 
 
 follow their Inilliaiit course would open to him the 
 best chances for success. His aspirations, however, 
 stretched verv far Ijcyond theirs. He felt other and 
 higher powers within him, and entered boldly into ri- 
 
 valship, not only with Sannazaro and Bembo, as 
 * 194 the}- had done, but with * Ariosto, Tasso, and 
 
 Petrarch. Eleven of his longer poems, epic, 
 narrative, and descriptive, are in the statel}' ottava rima 
 of his great masters ; besides which he has left us two 
 long pastorals in the manner of the " Arcadia," many 
 adventurous attempts in the te)\i(( riDta, and nuni])erless 
 specimens of all the varieties of Italian lyrics, includ- 
 ing, among the rest, nearly seven hundred sonnets. 
 
 But in all this there is little that is truly national, — 
 little that is marked with the old Castilian spirit; and 
 if this were all he had done, his fame would by no 
 means stand where we now find it. His prose pasto- 
 rals and his romances are, indeed, better than his 
 epics ; and his didactic poetry, his epistles, and his 
 elegies are occasionally excellent ; but it is only when 
 he touches fairly and fully upon the soil of his country, 
 — it is only in his fjlosas, his letriUas, his ballads, and 
 his light songs and roundelays, — that he has the 
 richness and grace Avhich should always have accompa- 
 nied him. We feel at once, therefore, whenever we 
 meet him in these paths, that he is on ground he 
 should never have deserted, because it is ground on 
 which, with his extraordinary gifts, he could easily 
 have erected permanent monuments to his own ftiine. 
 But he himself determined otherwise. Not that he 
 entirely approved the innovations of Boscan and Gar- 
 cilasso ; for he tells us distinctly, in his " Philomena," 
 that their imitations of the Italian had unhappiW sup- 
 planted the grace and the glory that belonged pecu-
 
 CiiAr. XV.J LOI'e's EAllhlEST DllAMAS. 229 
 
 liaily to the old Spanish o-euius.^ The theories and 
 fashions of his time, therefore, misled, though they did 
 not delude, a spirit that should have been above 
 them; and the result is, tluit little of ])oetry such as 
 marks the old Castilian genius is to be found in tlie 
 s:reat mass of his works we have thus fjir been called 
 on to examine. In order to account for his permanent 
 success, as well as marvellous popularity, we must, 
 then, turn to another and wholly distinct department, 
 — that of the drama, — in which he gave himself up 
 to tlie leading of the national spirit as com- 
 pletely as if * he had not elsewhere seemed * 195 
 sedulousl}- to avoid it ; and thus obtained a 
 kind and degree of fame he could never otherwise 
 have reached. 
 
 It is not possible to determine the year when Lope 
 first began to write for the public stage ; but when- 
 ever it was, he found the theatre in a rude and 
 humble condition. That he was very early drawn 
 to this form of composition, though not, perhaps, for 
 the purposes of representation, we know on his own 
 authorit}^; for, in his pleasant didactic poem on the 
 New Art of Making Plays, which he published in 1600, 
 but read several years earlier to a society of dikttanii 
 in Madrid, he says expressly : — 
 
 The Captain Vinu'.s, a famous wit, 
 Cast dramas in three acts, by happy hit ; 
 For, till his time, upon all fours they crept, 
 Like helpless babes that never yet had stepped. 
 Such plays I wrote, eleven and twelve years old : 
 Four acts — each measured to a sheet's just fold — 
 Filled out four sheets ; while still, between, 
 Three entrcvieses short fdled up the scene. ^ 
 
 1 Philomena, Segunda Parte, Obras Andaba en quatro, como pies de nlno ; 
 {J 1, rti TT ° i ro Que cran entonces ninas las Oomcdias : 
 ■SUeitaS, lom. ll. p. too. Y io las escribi, de once y dooc anos, 
 
 2 El capitan Virues, insignc ingenio, De 4 quatro actos y de a quatro pliegOB, 
 Puso en tres actos la Coinedia, que Antes Porque cada acto un pliego coatenia :
 
 2o0 THEATRE AT VALENCIA. [Period II. 
 
 This was as early as lo74. A few years later, 
 or aJjout 1580, when the poet was eighteen years old, 
 he attracted the notice of Iiis early patron, Manrique, 
 the Bishop of Avila, l)y a j^astoral. His studies at 
 Alcala, followed ; then his service under the vouno- 
 Duke of Alva, his marriage, and his exile of several 
 years; for all which we must find room hefore 1588, 
 when we know he served in the Armada. In 1590, 
 however, if uot a year earlier, he had returned to 
 Madrid ; and it does not seem unreasonalde to assume 
 that soon afterwards he hegan to be known in the 
 capital as a dramatic writer, being then twentj'-eight 
 years old. 
 
 But. it was during the period of his exile that 
 he seems to have really begun his puldic dramatic 
 
 career, and prepared himself, in some measure, 
 * 19G for his subsequent more * general popularity. 
 
 A part of this interval was passed in Valencia ; 
 and in Valencia a theatre had been known for a long 
 time."^ x\s early as 1526, the hospital there received 
 an income from it. by a compromise similar to that in 
 virtue of which the hospitals of Madrid long after- 
 wards laid the theatre under contribution ibr their 
 support.* The Captain Virues. avIio was a friend of 
 Lope de Vega, and is commemorated by hini more than 
 
 Y era que entonces en las tres distancia.s mentioned as hiU"ing lieen acted in the 
 
 .'k. hacian tres iK,-.iueiios entremeses ^.^^^ ,.jj.^. j,^ j^j^, 1413, and 1415 were 
 
 Obra-s Sueltas, Tom. IV. p. 412. ^j- ^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^. ^^^^^ ^^^^. 
 
 There are autograph i)lay.s of Lope .^^eeni to ha\e belonged, like those we 
 
 in existence, dated 1593 and 1594. ],ave noticed {mife, Vol. I. j). 231) bv 
 
 Schack's liej-triige, p. 45. the Constable Alvaro de Luna, to court- 
 
 8 Dramatic entertainments of some ly festivities. Aribau, Biblioteca de 
 
 kind are spoken of at Valeu.'ia in the Autores p:spafioles, .Madrid, 1846, 8vo. 
 
 f'Airt.-enth century. Li 1.394, we are Tom. II. p. 178, note ; ami an excellent 
 
 told, there was rej.resented at the jjal- article on the early Spanish theatre, bv 
 
 ace a tragedy, entitled " L horn ena- p. ^Volf, in BliitteV fiir literarische Uu- 
 
 morat e la fembra .satisfeta," by Mos.sen terhaltung, 1S48, p. 1287, note. 
 
 Domingo Ma.sjwns, a counsellor of .John 4 JovelTanos, Diversiones Publica.s, 
 
 L This wa-s undoubtedly a Troubadour Madrid, 1812, 8vo, p. 57. 
 perfonnance. Perhaps the EiUramesos
 
 cu.vi'. XV.] LorE's j:aklie!st dramas. 231 
 
 once, wrote for tliis theatre, as did Tiinoneda, the 
 editor of Lope de Kueda ; the works of both the kist 
 being printed in Valencia about 1570. These Valen- 
 cian dramas, however, except in the case of Lope 
 de Rneda, were of moderate amount and value; nor 
 was what was done at Seville by Cueva and his follow- 
 ers, about 1580, or at Madrid by Cervantes, a little 
 later, of more real importance, regarded as the foun- 
 datious for a national theatre. 
 
 Indeed, if Ave look over all that can be claimed for 
 the Spanish drama from the time of the eclogues of 
 Juan de la Enzina, in 1492, to the appearance of Lope 
 de Rueda, about 1544, and then, again, from his time 
 to that of Lope de Vega, we shall find, not only that 
 the number of dramas was small, but that they had 
 been written in forms so different and so often opposed 
 to each other as to have little consistency or authority, 
 and to offer no sufficient indication of the channel 
 in which that portion of the literature of the country 
 was at last destined to flow. We may even say, that, 
 except Lope de Rueda, no author for the theatre had 
 yet enjoyed any considerable popularity ; and he hav- 
 ing now been dead more than twenty years, Lope de 
 Vega must be admitted to have had a fair and free 
 field open before him. 
 
 Unfortunately, we have few of his earlier 
 efforts. He * seems, however, to have begun * 11)7 
 upon the old foundations of the eclogues and 
 moralities, whose religious air and tone commended 
 them to that ecclesiastical toleration without which 
 little could thrive in Spain,^ An eclogue, which is 
 announced as having been represented, and which 
 
 ^ In one his eailior efforts he says, lielji tlicin little." But of this we shall 
 (Obvas, Tom. V. p. 340,) "The law.s .see more hert^after.
 
 232 lope's earliest DRAJLIS. [Period IF. 
 
 seems really to be armnged for exhibition, is found in 
 the third book of the •• Arcadia," the earliest of Lope's 
 pii})lislied works, and one that was written before his 
 exile/' Several similar attempts occur elsewhere, — 
 so rude and pious, that it seems almost as if they 
 miofht have belonged to the ao-e of Juan de la Enzina 
 and Gil Vicente ; and others of the same character 
 are scattered through other parts of his multitudi- 
 nous works.' 
 
 Of his more regular plays, the two oldest, that were 
 subsequently included in his printed collection, are not 
 without similar indications of their origin. Both are 
 pastorals. The first is called '' The True Lover," and 
 was written when Lope was fourteen years old, though 
 it may have been altered and improved before he pub- 
 lished it, when he was fifty-eight. It is the story of a 
 jihepherd who refuses to marry a shepherdess, though 
 she had put him in peril of his life by accusing him of 
 having murdered her husband, Avho, as she Avas quite 
 aware, had died a natural death, but whose supposed 
 murderer could be rescued from his doom only at her 
 requisition, as next of kin to the pretended culprit; — 
 a process l)y which she hoped to ol)tain all power over 
 his s])irit. ;ind compel him to marry her, as Ximena 
 married the Cid, by royal authority. Lope admits it 
 to be a rude performance ; but it is marked ]jy the 
 sweetness of versification which seems to have belonged 
 to him at every period of his career.^ 
 
 * It is j)roliiil)k', from internal cvi- tore.s de Belen," Book HI., and else- 
 
 ■•lence, that this eclogue, and .some where. 
 
 others in the same romance, were acted * " El Verdadero Amante " is in the 
 before the Duke Antonio de Alva. At Fourteenth Part of the Comedias, jirint- 
 any rate, we know similar representa- ed at Madrid, 1620, and is dedicated to 
 tions were common in the age of Cer- his son Lope, who died the next year, 
 vantes and Lope, as well as before and only iifteen years old ; — -the father .say- 
 after it. in<^ in the Dedication, "This play was 
 
 ^ Such dramas aie found in the " Pas- written when 1 was of about vour age."
 
 CiiAr. XV.] LOrE's EAKLIEttT DRAMAS. 233 
 
 * The other of his early performances above * 198 
 alluded to is the '• Pastoral de Jacinto, " which 
 Montalvan tell us was the first play Lope wrote in 
 three acts, and that it was composed while he was at- 
 tached to the i^erson of the Bishop of Avila. This 
 must have been about the year 1580; but as the 
 Jacinto was not printed till thirty-three years after- 
 wards, it may perhaps have undergone large changes 
 before it was offered to the public, whose requisitions 
 had advanced in the interval no less than the condition 
 of the theatre. He says in the Dedication, that it was 
 '"' written in the years of his youth," and it is founded 
 on the somewhat artificial story of a shepherd fairly 
 made jealous of himself by the management of another 
 shepherd, who hopes thus to obtain the shepherdess 
 they both love, and who passes himself off, for some 
 time, as another Jacinto, and as the only one to whom 
 the lady is really attached. It has the same flowing 
 versification with '' The True Lover," but it is not 
 superior in merit to that drama, which can hardly have 
 preceded it by more than two or three years.'^ 
 
 Moralities, too, written with no little spirit, and with 
 strong internal evidence of having been publicly per- 
 formed, occur here and there, — sometimes where we 
 should least look for them. Four such are produced in 
 his " Pilgrim in his own Country " ; the romance, it 
 may be remembered, which is not without allusions to 
 its author's exile, and wdiich seems to contain some of 
 his personal experiences at Valencia. One of these 
 
 ' ^Nloutalvan says: " Lopp greatly "Quatro Comedins Faiiiosas De Don 
 pleased Mamiciue, the Bishop of Avila. Luis de Gongora y [.ope de Vega (Par- 
 ity certain eclogues which he wrote for pio," etc. ; and afterwards in the eigh- 
 hiin, and by the drama of ' The Pasto- teenth volume of the Coniedias of Lope, 
 ral of Jacinto,' the earliest he wrot^* in ]Ma(lrid, 1623. It was al.so })riuted sep- 
 three acts." (Obras, Torn. XX. p. 30.) arately, under the double title of "La 
 It was first printed at Madrid, in 1613, Selva de Albania, y el Qeloso de si mis- 
 4to, by Sanchez, in a volume entitled mo."
 
 234 LOPE'8 earliest dramas. [Pkkiod II. 
 
 allegorical plays is declared to have been performed 
 in front of the venerable cathedral at Saraij-ossa. and is 
 among the more curious s])ecimens of such entertain- 
 ments, since it is accompanied with explanations of the 
 way in which the churches were used for theatrical 
 pur})()ses, and ends with an account of the ex- 
 * 191) position of * the Host as an appropriate conclu- 
 sion for a drama so devout.^" 
 Another, called "' The Soul's Voyage," is set forth as 
 if represented in a public square of Barcelona.^^ It 
 opens with a ballad, which is sung by three persons, 
 and is followed, first, by a prologue full of cumbrous 
 learning, and then bv another ballad, both sung and 
 danced, as we are told, '' with much skill and grace." 
 After all this note of preparation comes the " Moral 
 Action" itself. The Soul enters dressed in white, — 
 the way in which a disembodied spirit was indicated to 
 the audience. A clown, who, as the droll of the piece, 
 represents the Human Will, and a gallant youth, who 
 represents Memory, enter at the same time ; one of 
 them lu'ging the Soul to set out on the voyage of sal- 
 vation, and the other endeavoring to jest her out of 
 such a pious ])urpose. At this critical moment, Satan 
 appears as a shi])-ca])tain, in a black suit fringed with 
 flames, and accompanied ])y Selfishness, Appetite, and 
 other vices, as his sailors, and ofters to speed the Soul 
 on her voyage, all singing merrily together: — 
 
 Holloa ! the good ship of Delight 
 
 Spreads her sails for the sea to-day ; 
 
 Who embarks ? who wnbarks, then, I say ? 
 
 To-day, the good ship of Content, 
 
 Witli a wind at her clioice for her course, * 
 
 To a land where no troubles are sent, 
 
 "^ It fdls nearly fifty pages in the "A Moral Representation of the Soul's 
 third book of the romance. Vovage";— in other words, A Mora/,- 
 
 " In the first book. It is entitlc(l it,/'
 
 €hai'. XV. J lope's earliest DRAMAS. 235 
 
 Wlicrc noiio kiHiws the stings of I'emorse, 
 With a wuul IViir and free takes her flight ; — 
 Who unibaiks '! who embarks, then, 1 say ? ^'■^ 
 
 A new world is announced as their destination, and 
 the Will asks whether it is the one lately discovered 
 by Columbus ; to which and to other similar questions 
 Satan replies evasively, but declares that he is a 
 greater pilot of the seas than Magellan or 
 Drake, and w^ill insure to all *who sail with * 200 
 him a happy and prosperous voyage. Memory 
 opposes the project, but, after some resistance, is put 
 to sleep ; and Understanding, who follows as a grey- 
 beard full of wise counsel, comes too late. The adven- 
 turers are already gone. But still he shouts after 
 them, and continues his warnings, till the ship of Peni- 
 tence arrives, with the Saviour for its pilot, a cross for 
 its mast, and sundry Saints for its sailors. They sum- 
 mon the Soul anew. The Soul is surprised and 
 shocked at her situation ; and the piece ends with her 
 embarkation on board the sacred vessel, amidst a feu 
 de j'oie, and the shouts of the delighted spectators, 
 who, we may suppose, had been much edified by the 
 show. 
 
 Another of these strange dramas is founded on the 
 story of the Prodigal Son, and is said to have been 
 represented at Perpignan, then a Spanish fortress, by 
 a party of soldiers ; one of the actors being mentioned 
 by name in its long and absurdly learned Prologue .^'^ 
 Among the interlocutors are Envy, Youth, Repentance, 
 and Good Advice ; and among other extraordinary pas- 
 
 12 Oy la Nahe del deleyte Se quiere hazer a la Mar. 
 
 Se quiere hazer 4 la Mar ; — Ay qulen se quiera embarcar? 
 
 Ay quien se quiera embarcar? j;i Peregrine en su I'atria, Sevilla, 1604, 4to, 
 
 Oy la Nabe del contento, f 36 b 
 
 Con vlento en popa de gusto, ' ' 
 
 SSnrirnfent^' " Book Fourtli. The Compliment 
 
 Viendo que ay prospero viento, to the actor shows, of course, that the
 
 i^oG lope's earliest dramas. [Pkimod 1L 
 
 sages it contains a flowing paraj^lirase of Horace's 
 '- Beatus ille." prononnced b}' the resj^ectable proprie- 
 tor of tlie swine intrusted to the nnhappy Prodigal. 
 
 The fourth Morahty found in the romance of the 
 Pilu'rini is entitled " The Marriai»;e of the Soul and 
 Divine Love"; and is set forth as having been acted 
 in a public square at Valencia, on occasion of the mar- 
 riage of Philip the Third with Margaret of Austria, 
 which took place in that city, — an occasion, we are 
 told, when Lope himself appeared in the character of 
 a bnffoon.^^ and one to which this drama, though 
 * 201 it seems to*' have been written earlier, Avas care- 
 fully adjusted.i-^ The World, Sin, the City of 
 Jerusalem, and Faith, who is dressed hi the costume of- 
 a captain-general of Spain, all play parts in it. Envy 
 enters, in the first scene, as from the infernal regions, 
 throuo-h a mouth castins; forth flames ; and the last 
 scene represents Love, stretched on the cross, and wed- 
 ded to a fair damsel who figures as the Soul of Man. 
 Some parts of this drama are very oftensive ; espe- 
 cially the passage in wdiich Margaret of Austria, with 
 celestial attributes, is represented as arriving in the 
 galley of Faith, and the j^assage in which Philip's en- 
 trance into A^alencia is described literally as it oc- 
 curred, but substitutiu": the Saviour for the king, and 
 the prophets, the martyrs, and the hierarchy of heaven 
 
 jnece was acted. Indeed, this is the it was in the Moral Play of the Prodi- 
 proper inference fi-oni the whole Pro- gal Son, found in the Fourth Book of 
 logue. Obras, Tom. V. p. 347. Loi)e's "Peregrino en su Patria," which, 
 ^* Jlihana, in his continuation of though there sjioken of as acted at Per- 
 Mariana, (Lib. X. c. 15, Madrid, 1804, ^])ignan, seems also, from a passage at 
 folio, p. 589,) says, when speaking of f. 211, ed. 1604, to have been repre- 
 the marriage of Pliilip III. at Valencia, .sented at the Mamage of Philip III. 
 "In the midst of such rejoicings, taste- and Margaret of Austria, at Valencia, 
 ful and freijuent festivities and miis(|uer- in 159H, and in wliich the "Gracio.so" 
 ades were not wanting, in whicli I^ope apjiears under tlic name of " Helardo," 
 de Vega played tlie pait of the butfoon." well known at the time as the poetical 
 In what particular piece Lope played name of Lope. See ante. Chap. XIII. 
 the part of the buffoon, Mifiana does note 18. 
 not tell us. I suspect, however, that ^^ In Book Second.
 
 CiiAi". XV 
 
 LOPKS EARLIEST DRAMAS. 
 
 '^6i 
 
 Ibr the S])aiiisli nobles and clergy who really appeared 
 ojti the occasion. ^*^ 
 
 Such were, probably, the unsteady attempts with 
 which Lope began his career on the public stage during 
 his exile at A'aleneia and for some years afterwards. 
 They are certainly wild enough in their structure, and 
 sometimes gross in sentiment, though hardly worse in 
 either respect than the similar allegorical nnsteries and 
 farces which, till just about the same period, were per- 
 formed in France and England, and much superior in 
 their general tone and style. How long he continued to 
 write them, or how many he Avrote, we do not know. 
 None of them appear in the collection of his 
 dramas, which does not begin tUl 1604,'' * though * 202 
 an allegorical spirit is occasionally visible in some 
 of his plays, which are, in other respects, quite in the 
 
 1'' Lope boasts that he has made this 
 sort of commutation and acconnnoda- 
 tion, as if it were a merit. " Tliis was 
 literally the way." he says, "in which 
 his Majesty, King Philip, entered Va- 
 lencia." Obras, Tom. V. p. 187. 
 
 1" A very curious and excessively 
 rare volume, however, appeared at Ma- 
 drid the year before, of which I found 
 a copy in the Biblioteca Amliroijiana 
 in Milan, and ^\•hich contains plays of 
 Lope. It is entitled, "Scis Conicdias 
 de Lope de Vega Carpio y de otros 
 autores cujos nombres dellas (sic) son 
 estos : — 
 
 1 . De la Destruicion de Constantino- 
 pla. 
 
 2. De la Fundacion de la Alhambra 
 de Granada. 
 
 3. De los Amigos enojados. 
 
 4. De la Libertad de Castilla. 
 
 5. De las Hazahas del Cid. 
 
 6. Del Perseguido. 
 
 Con licencia de la Sta. Inquisicion y 
 Ordinario. En Madrid, impreso por 
 Pedro de Madrigal. Anol603." Small 
 4to, ff. 272. 
 
 All six of the above plays are marked 
 in Huerta's Catalogo as Lope's, but 
 neither of them, I tliiuk, is in the list 
 of the "Peregrine," 1604, where in 
 fact, 1 suppose, Lope means — (by a 
 
 reference to this publication, one edition 
 of which aj)peared in 1603 at Lisbon, 
 and I believe another at Seville) — to 
 discredit them. And, no doubt, the 
 iirst — "La Destruicion de Constanti- 
 nopla " — is not his, but Gabriel Las- 
 so dc la Vega's. On the other hand, 
 however, No. 3, "Amistad pagada," is 
 in Vol. I. of Lope's Comedias, 1604, 
 and No. 6, "Carlos el Perseguido," is 
 in the same volume; while No. 4, "La 
 Libertad de Castilla," appears in Vol. 
 XIX., 1626, as "El Condc Fernau 
 Gonzalez." These thi'ee, therefore, are 
 Lope's. I did not have time to read 
 them, but I ran them over hastily. 
 The first in the volume, which is Ga- 
 briel Lasso de la Vega's, and which is 
 short, seemed to be in the rude style 
 of the stage when Lope took it in hand, 
 and has allegorical personages. Death, 
 Discord, etc. The sixth and the thiid, 
 on the contrary, are mucdi in Lope's 
 final manner, at least much more so 
 than the others. It .should be noted 
 that the third is inserted in the volume 
 by mistake as the fifth, and so cicr 
 vcrsd ; and that the fourth is said to 
 be written in "lengua antigua." The 
 fifth is on the death of the Cid and the 
 taking of Valencia, and has above fifty 
 " iiguras."
 
 238 lope's plays at MADPID. [Pkui..!. II. 
 
 temper of the secuhir tlieutre. But tluit he wrote 
 such religions dramas early, and that he wrote great 
 numbers of them, in the course of his life, is unques- 
 tional)le. 
 
 In Madrid, if he found little to hinder, he also found 
 little to help him, except two rude theatres, or rather 
 court-\ards, licensed for the representation of i)lays, 
 and a dramatic taste formed or Ibrming in the charac- 
 ter of the people.^*^ But this was enough for a spirit 
 like his. His success was immediate and complete ; 
 his popularity overwhelming. Cervantes, as we have 
 seen, declared him to be a '-prodigy of nature " ; and, 
 though himself seekmg both the fame and the profit 
 of a writer for the public stage, generously recognized 
 his great rival as its sole monarch.^^ 
 
 Many years, however, elapsed before he published 
 even a single volume of the plays with which he was 
 thus delighting the audiences of Madrid, and settling 
 the final forms of the national drama. This was, no 
 doubt, in part owing to the habit, which seems to have 
 prevailed in Spain from the first appearance of 
 * 203 the theatre, of regarding * its literature as ill- 
 suited for publication ; and in part to the cir- 
 cumstance, that, when plays were produced on the 
 stage, the author usually lost his right in them, if not 
 
 1^ The description of an imaginary a phrase frecpiently used ; and though 
 performance of a popular drama in a nometimcsundL'i-iitoO'X invudam partem, 
 small town of Castile just at this peri- as it is in Don Quixote, Parte L c. 46, 
 od — 1595 — can be found in " Ni Rey — " Vete de mi jjreseneia, monstruo de 
 ni Roque," (a Novela hy Don Patricio naturaleza," — it is generally understood 
 de la Escosura, 1835, Tom. I. cap. 4,) to be complimentary ; as, for instance, 
 and is worth reading, to see how rudely in the " Hcrniosa Ester" of Lope, (Co- 
 things were then managed, or supposed media.s, Tom. XV., JIadrid, 1621,) near 
 to be managed. the end of the iir.st act, where Ahasue- 
 
 1^ See ante, p. 125, and Comedias, rus, in admiration of the fair Esther, 
 
 Madrid, 1615, 4to, Prologo. Thephra.se says: — 
 iiwiuilruo de luduralezu, in this i)as.sage, Tanta belle7.a 
 
 11 ..* 1 / ■ 1 Monstruo seri de la naturaleza. 
 
 has been sometimes su|)po.sed to imply i>*""o" u -^i <*<= ■» ua ic«i 
 
 a censure of Lojie on the ])art of Ci-r- Cen-antes, I have no doubt, used it in 
 vantes. But thi^ i~ ;i iiii-^tMkf. It is wonder at Lope's prodigious fertility.
 
 I'llAI'. XV.] 
 
 NUMBEli OF Ills DILUIAS 
 
 239 
 
 entirely, yet so far that he coiihl not pubhsh them 
 without the assent of the actors. But whatever may 
 have been the cause, it is certain that a multitude of 
 Lope's plays had been acted before he published any 
 of them ; and that, to this day, not a fourth pjirt of 
 those he wrote has l)een preserved by the press.'-^" 
 
 Their very number, however, may have been one 
 fjbstacle to their pu])li('ation ; for the most moderate 
 and certain accounts on this point have almost a fabu- 
 lous air about them, so extravagant do they seem. In 
 1603, he gives us the titles of two hundred and nine- 
 teen pieces that he had already written ,-^^ in 1()09, he 
 
 -' Lope must liave been a writer for 
 the public stage as early as 1586 or 
 1587, and a popular writer at Madrid 
 soon after 1590 ; but we have no plays 
 by him dated earlier than 1593 -S)4, 
 \Seha(;k's Nachtrage, 1854, ]). 45,) and 
 no knowledge that any of his plays were 
 printed, with his own consent, before 
 the volume which appeared as the No- 
 vena Parte, Madrid, 1617. Yet, in the 
 Preface to the " Peregrino en .su Patria," 
 licensed in 1603, he gives us a list of 
 TWO hundred and nineteen plays which 
 he acknowledges and claims ; and in 
 the same Preface (I possess the l)ook) 
 he states their number at two hundred 
 and thirty. In the edition of 1733 
 (which I also have) it is raised to three 
 hundred and forty-nine ; but in the 
 Obras Sueltas, (Tom. V., 1776,) it is 
 V)rought back to three hundred and 
 tliirty-nine, perhaps copying the edi- 
 tion of 1605. Of all these, none, 1 
 ■conceive, has much authority except 
 the first, and it may be ditticult to tind 
 sufficient ground for attributing to Lope 
 some of the plays whose titles are added 
 in the later editions, though it is not un- 
 likely that some of them may l)e famil- 
 iar to us under other names. There are 
 «'ight editions of the Peregi-ino, ini-lud- 
 ing that in the fifth volume of Saucha'.s 
 (joilection, 1777. Again, in 1618, when 
 he says he had written eight hundred, 
 (Comedias, Tom. XL, Barcelona, 1618, 
 Prologo, ) only one hundred and thirty- 
 four full-length plays, and a few eiitn:- 
 j/iescs, had been printed. Finally, nf 
 ■the eighteen hundred attributed to liini 
 
 in 1635, after his death, by Montalvau 
 and others, (Obras Sueltas, Tom. XX. 
 l>. 49, ) only about three liundred and 
 twenty or thirty can be found in the 
 volumes of his collected plays ; and 
 Lord Holland, counting auios and all, 
 which would swell the general claim of 
 Montalvan to at least twenty-two liun- 
 dred, makes out but five hundred and 
 sixteen jirinted dramas of Lope. Life 
 of Lope de Vega, London, 1817, 8vo, 
 Vol. 11. pp. 158-180. 
 
 '■^1 This curious list, with the Preface 
 in which it stands, is worth reading 
 over carefully, as affording indications 
 of tlie history and progress of Ijojie's 
 genius. It is to Lope's dramatic life 
 what the list in Meres is to Shakesiieare. 
 It is found best in the first edition, 
 1604. In the Spanish translation of 
 this History, (Tom. IL, 1851, pp. 551, 
 552, ) in Schack's Nachtrage, (1854, pp. 
 45 -50,) and in the Documentos Inedi- 
 tos, (Tom. I.,) may be Ibund the titles 
 of a number of Lojte's Comedias that 
 are still extant in his autograj)h MSS. 
 Two of them, at least, liave never been 
 published, " Brasil Restituido," found- 
 ed on the capture of San Salvador by 
 the Sjianiards in 1625, and "La Reina 
 Dona Maria," founded on the strange 
 circumstances attending the birth of 
 Don Jaime el Conquistador as naively 
 related in Muntaner's Chronicle. But 
 of the last, which is in the possession 
 of Prince Metternich, a satisfactory ac- 
 count by Wolf may be found in the 
 " Sitzungs-berichte " of the Imi)erial 
 Acade::;y at Vii-iiiiii for Apiil, 1855.
 
 2-40 
 
 M'MBEi; OF HIS ])1;a.MAS. 
 
 [PKraoD IL 
 
 says their number had risen to IbiU' hundred 
 * 204 and ei,trhty-three ; " * in 1618, he says it was 
 
 eiglit hundred;'^'' in 1619, again, in round luun- 
 bers. he states it at nine liundred;-' and in 1024, at 
 one thousand and seventy."''' After his deatii. in 1635, 
 Perez de Montalvan, his intimate friend and eulogists 
 who three 3'ears before had declared the number to be 
 fifteen hmidred, without reckoning the shorter pieces.-'^ 
 puts it at eighteen hundred plays and lour hundred 
 a (if OS ;^^ inimhers which are confidently repeated Ijy 
 Antonio in his notice of Lope,-*^ and by Franchi, an 
 
 111 tlie year 1860 — that is, since tlie 
 ]ireeeiling paragi'ajili was published — 
 there a])peared iu the tifty-seeoud vol- 
 ume of Hivadeneyra's Biblioteca an ex- 
 traordinary' coiitribution to the bibliog- 
 rajihy of Loin's coincdkis and aufos. Its 
 author is Mr. J. l\. Chorley of London, 
 and it is s;\id to be " corregido y adi- 
 fionado por el Senor Don Caj'etano de 
 Banera," whose Catalogue of Spanish 
 plays and their authoi'S is elsewhere 
 noticed. How far the additions and. 
 con-ections of Senor Banera e.xtend 
 does not appear, but that the immense 
 and careful labor of the bibliography in 
 question is substantially to be credited 
 to Mr. Chorley, and that the alterations 
 are few and unimportant, is hardlj' 
 doubtful. The giand result, however, 
 as reached in the final summary of Bar- 
 rera, though I suspect this is not to 
 be accepted as absolutely accurate, is, 
 that of printed n/niedins known to be 
 by Lope there are 403, besides which 
 there are G'i ])robably his ; 106 cited in 
 the "Peregiiiio," luit not found ; ined- 
 ited, 11 ; and doubtful, (porvarios con- 
 ceptos,) 25, making, in all, 608, but re- 
 ducing the " leiwrtorio conocido" of 
 Loj)e to 439 comedins. In relation to 
 the loas and entremeses no careful 
 reckoning was made, so uncertain is tlie 
 authorship of those attiibuted to him. 
 The whole catalogtie fills twenty-two 
 large pages in double columns, and is 
 extremely curious ami satisfactoiy, ex- 
 cept that it gives us so small a minil>er 
 of titles compared with the recognized 
 number of Lope's dramatic works in 
 the two great classes to which the reck- 
 oning relates. 
 
 -'- In his "New Art of AVriting 
 Plays," he says, " 1 have now written, 
 including one that I have finished this 
 week, four hundred and eighty-three 
 plays." He jjrinted this for the first 
 time in 1609 ; and though it was pro1>- 
 ably written four oi- five years earlier, 
 yet these lines near the end may have 
 been added at the moment the whoh- 
 poem went to the press. Obras Suelta?., 
 Tom. lY. ]>. 417. 
 
 ^^ In the Prologo to Comedias, Tom. 
 XI., Barcelona, 1618;— a witty ad- 
 dress of the theatre to the readers. 
 
 -* Comedias, Tom. XIV., Madrid, 
 1620, Dedication of "El Verdadero 
 Amante" to his son. 
 
 •^5 Comedias, Tom. XX., Madrid, 1629, 
 Preface, where he says, "Candid minds 
 will ho))e, that, as I have lived long 
 enough to write a tliousand and seventy 
 dramas, I may live long enough to print 
 them." The certificates of tliis volume 
 are dated 1624-25. 
 
 '■^ In the Indice de los "Ingenios de 
 Madrid," appended to the "Para To- 
 dos" of Montalvan, printed in 1632. 
 he says, Lojie had then published twen- 
 ty volumes of i)lays, and that tlie 
 number of those that had been acted, 
 without reckoning ontoi^, wa.s fifteen 
 hundred. Lope also himself j)uts it at 
 fifteen hundred in the Egloga a Clau- 
 dio," which, though not j)ublished till 
 after his death, must have been written 
 as earl}- as 1632, since it speaks of tht- 
 " Dorotea," first puldished in that year, 
 as still waiting for the light. 
 
 '^' Fama Postunia, Obi-as Sueltas, 
 Tom. XX. p. 49. 
 
 ® Art. Lupus Felix dc Vega.
 
 C'li.u'. XV.] NU.MIJKK OF HIS DliAMAS. 241 
 
 Italian, who lijul been much with Lope at Madrid, and 
 who wrote one of tlie multitudinous eulogies on him 
 after his death.-"* The ])rodigious facility implied by 
 this is further conhrmed by the fact stated by himself 
 in one of his ph^y>^, that it was written and acted in 
 five days;^° and by the anecdotes of Montalvan, that 
 he wrote five full-length dramas at Toledo in fifteen 
 days, and one act of another in a few hours of the 
 early morning, without seeming to make any efibrt in 
 either case.^^ 
 
 Of this enormous mass about five hundred dramas 
 appear to have been published at different 
 times, — * most of them in the twenty-five, or, * 205 
 as is sometimes reckoned, twenty-eight, vol- 
 umes which were printed in various places between 
 1604 and 1647, but of which it is now nearly impossi- 
 ble to form a complete collection. '^^ In these volumes, 
 so far as any rules of the dramatic art are concerned, 
 it is apparent that Lope took the theatre in the state 
 in which he found it ; and instead of attempting to 
 adapt it to any previous theory, or to any existing 
 models, whether ancient or recent, made it his great 
 object to satisfy the popular audiences of his age ; ^ — 
 
 '^^ Obras Sueltas, Tom. XXI. pp. 3, ^ By far the finesst copy of Lope de 
 
 19. Vega's Coinedias that I have ever seen 
 
 ^^ "All studied oiit and Avritten in is in the possession of Lord Taunton 
 
 five days." Comedias, Torn. XXL, (formerly the Rt. Hon. Henry Labou- 
 
 Madrid, 1635, f. 72, b. chere) at Stoke Park, near London. 
 
 '^^ Obras Sueltas, Tom. XX. pp. 51, Including the Vega del Parnaso, 1647, 
 
 52. How eagerly his plays were sought and the various editions of the different 
 
 by the actors and received by the audi- volumes, where such exist, it makes 
 
 •ences of Madrid may be understood forty-four volumes in all. 
 
 from the fact Lope mentions in the The selection made by Hartzenliusch 
 
 poem to his friend Claudio, that above for the Biblioteca de Autores Espanoles, 
 
 a hundred were acted within twenty- and found in Vols. XXIV., XXXIV., 
 
 four hours of the time when their com- and XLI. of that collection, to which 
 
 position was completed. 01)ras Suel- one more is ])romised, is well made, 
 
 tas, Tom. IX. p. 368. Pacheco, in the but it is not edited witli the care sliown 
 
 notice of Lope prefixed to his " Jeru- in the edition of Calderon by tlie same 
 
 salen," 1609, .says that .some of his most hand. I do not know why the "Doro- 
 
 admired plays were written in two days. tea" is inserted. 
 
 Obras Sueltas, Tom. XIV. }). xxxii. ^3 ^f^ ^..jriy ^g 1(303, Lope maintains 
 
 vol,. II. 16
 
 2-1:2 NUMBEK OF Ills J)1;AMAS. [I'luiod 1L 
 
 an object which lie avows 8o distinctly in his " Art of 
 Writing Plays," and in the Preface to the twentieth 
 volinne of his Dramas, that there is no donbt it was 
 the prevailing pnrpose with which he labored for the 
 theatre. Fur such a purpose, he certainly appeared at 
 a fortunate moment ; and possessing a genius no less 
 fortunate, was enabled to become the founder of the na- 
 tional Spanish theatre, which, since his time, has rested 
 substantially on the basis where he placed and left it. 
 
 But this very sj-stem — if that may be called a sys- 
 tem which was rather an instinct — almost necessarily 
 supposes that he indulged his audiences in a great 
 variety of dramatic forms ; and accordingly we find, 
 among his plays, a diversity, alike in spirit, tone, and 
 structin^e, which was evidently intended to humor the 
 uncertain cravings of the popular taste, and which we 
 know was successful. Whether he himself ever took 
 the trouble to consider what were the different classes 
 
 into which his dramas might be divided, does 
 * 206 not appear. Certainly no * attempt at any 
 
 technical arrangement of them is made in the 
 collection as originally printed, except that, in the first 
 and third ^•olumes, a few enfremeses, or farces, generally 
 in prose, are thrown in at the end of each, as a sort of 
 appendix. All the rest of the plays contained in them 
 are in verse, and are called comedias, — a M'ord which is 
 by no means to be translated '• comedies," but " dra- 
 mas," since no other name is comprehensive enough to 
 include their manifold varieties, — and all of them are 
 
 divided into ihvim J ornadan, or acts. 
 
 I 
 
 this (loctriiip in the Preface to liis " Nueva Arte de Hacer Comedias," 
 
 " Peregrine " ; it occurs IVeciuently however, is almnduntly ex])licit on the 
 
 afterwards in different parts of his subject in 1609, and no doubt exjiressed 
 
 works, as, for instance, in the Prologo the (h'liberate puqjose of its author, 
 
 to liis "Castigo sin Venganza" ; and from wliieh he seems never to liave 
 
 he left it as a h'gacy in the " Egloga a swerved iluring his wliole dramatic ca- 
 
 Clandio," print(Ml after his deatli. The recr.
 
 ( ii.vr. AV.J F01LM8 OF LOI'E's DRAMAS. 243 
 
 But in everytliing else there seems no end to their 
 diversities, — whether we regard their subjects, run- 
 ning iVoui the deepest tragedy to the broadest farce, 
 and from the most solemn mysteries of religion down 
 to the loosest frolics of common life, or their style, 
 which embraces every change of tone and measure 
 known to the poetical language of the country. And 
 all these diflerent masses of Lope's drama, it should be 
 further noted, run insensibly into each other, — the 
 sacred and the secular, the tragic and the comic, the 
 heroic action and tliat from vulgar life, — until some- 
 times it seems as if there were neither sepaiiite form 
 nor distinctive attribute to any of them. 
 
 This, however, is less the case than it at first appears 
 to be. Lope, no doubt, did not always know or care 
 into wdiat peculiar form the story of his drama was 
 cast; but still there were certain forms and attributes 
 invented 1)y his own genius, or indicated to him by 
 the success of his predecessors or the demands of his 
 time, to which each of his dramas more or less tended. 
 A few, indeed, may be found, so nearly on the limits 
 that separate the different classes, that it is difficult to 
 assign them strictly to either ; but in all — even in 
 those that are the freest and wildest — the distinctive 
 elements of some class are apparent, while all, by the 
 peculiarly national spirit that animates them, show the 
 source from which they come, and the direction they 
 are destined to follow. 
 
 The fird class of plays that Lope seems to have in- 
 vented — the one in which his own genius seemed 
 most to delight, and which still remains more 
 popular in Spain * than any other — consists of *207 
 those called " Comedias de Capa y Espada," or 
 Dramas with Cloak and Sword. They took their name
 
 1^4-1: COMEDIAS DE CAPA Y E.SPADA. [Peiuud II. 
 
 from the circumstance, that their principal personages 
 belong to the genteel jDortion of society, accustomed, 
 in Lope's time, to the picturesque national dress of 
 cloaks and swords. — excluding, on the one hand, those 
 dramas in wliich royal personages appear, and. on the 
 other, those which are devoted to common life and the 
 humbler classes. Their main and moving principle is 
 gallantry, — such gallantry as existed in the time of 
 their author. The story is almost always involved 
 and intriguing, and almost always accompanied with 
 an imderplot and parody on the characters and adven- 
 tures of the principal parties, formed out of those of 
 the servants and other inferior personages. 
 
 Their titles are intended to be attractive, and are 
 not infrequently taken from among the old rhymed 
 proverbs, that were always popular, and that some- 
 times seem to have suggested the subject of the drama 
 itself.** They uniformly extend to the length of regu- 
 lar pieces for the theatre, now settled at three jo7viadas, 
 or acts, each of which. Lope advises, should have its 
 action compressed within the limits of a single day, 
 though he himself is rarely scrupulous enough to 
 follow his own recommendation. They are not prop- 
 erly comedies, for nothing is more frequent in them 
 than duels, murders, and assassinations ; and they are 
 not tragedies, for, besides that they end happily, they 
 are generally composed of humorous and sentimental 
 dialogue, and their action is carried on chiefly by lovers 
 full of romance, or by low characters whose wit is 
 mingled with buffoonery. All this, it should be under- 
 
 ** These titles were often in the old And in the verj- next play, " El ausente 
 
 1>alla<l Tneasure, and inserted as a line en el Lugai": — 
 in the plav, generally at the end; ex. El ausente en el Lugar 
 
 OT. ' ' El Ainete de Toledo " : — 8e queda en el y contento. 
 
 ° Comedias, Tom. H., 1618. 
 
 ArAZtotl^To" Calderon and other dramatists did the 
 
 same.
 
 Chap. XV.] THE AZEKO DE MADRID, 245 
 
 stood, was new on the Spanish stage; or if hints might 
 have been furnished for individual portions of it as 
 far back as Torres Naharro, the combination at least 
 was new, as well as the manners, tone, and cos- 
 tume. 
 
 * Of such plaj^s Lope wrote a very large * 208 
 number, — several hundreds, at least. His ge- 
 nius — rich, free, and eminently inventive — was well 
 fitted for their composition, and in many of them 
 he shows much dramatic tact and talent. Among the 
 best are "The Ugly Beauty ";^5 "Money makes the 
 Man"; -5*^ "The Pruderies of Belisa,"-^" which has the 
 accidental merit of being all but strictly within the 
 rules; "The Slave of her Lover," '^^ in which he has 
 sounded the depths of a woman's tenderness ; and 
 "The Dog in the Manger," in which he has almost 
 equally well sounded the depths of her selfish vanity.^^ 
 But perhaps there are some others which, even better 
 than these, will show the peculiar character of this 
 class of Lope's dramas, and his peculiar position in re- 
 lation to them. To two or three such we will, there- 
 fore, now turn. 
 
 " El Azero de Madrid," or The Madrid Steel, is one 
 of them, and is among his earlier works for the stage .'^'^ 
 
 ^5 Comedias, Tom. XXIV., Zaragoza, may be well to remember that it was 
 
 1641, 4to, f. 22, etc. written only a year and a half before 
 
 ^ I know this play, "Dineros son Ijope died. See note at the end of this 
 
 Calidad," only among the Comedias Su- chapter. 
 
 eltas of Lope ; but it is no doubt his, ^ Comedias, Tom. XXV., Qaragoea, 
 
 as it is in Tom. XXIV. printed at 1647, f. 1, etc. 
 
 Zaragoza in 1632, wliich contains dif- ^^ Comedias, Tom. XL, Barcelona, 
 
 ferent plays from a Tom. XXIV. print- 1618, f. 1, etc. The Preface to this 
 
 ed at Zaragoza in 1641, which I have. volume is curious, on accoimt of Lope'.s 
 
 There is yet a third Tom. XXIV., complaints of the book.sellers. Recalls" 
 
 printed at Madrid in 1638. The inter- it " Prologo del Teatro," and niakes 
 
 nal evidence would, perhaps, be enough the surreptitious publication of iiis plays 
 
 to prove its authorship. an offence against the drama itself. Ht; 
 
 ^ Comedias, Tom. IX., Barcelona, intimates that it was not very uncom- 
 
 1618, f. 277, etc., but often reprinted mon for one of his plays to be acted 
 
 since under the title of "La Melin- seventy times. 
 
 drosa." When mentioning the con- *" The "Azero de Madrid," which 
 
 formity of this play to the rules, it was written as early as 1603, has often
 
 246 THE AZERO DE MAUKID. [?Enun> 11. 
 
 It takes its name from the preparations of steel for me- 
 dicinal purposes, wliieh, in Lope's time, had just come 
 into fashionable use ; but the main story is that of a 
 light-hearted girl, who deceives her father, and espe- 
 cially Lei hypocritical old aunt, by pretending to be ill 
 and taking steel medicaments from a seeming doctor. 
 Avho is a friend of her lover, and who prescriljes walk- 
 ing abroad, and such other free modes of life as 
 may ])est afford opportunities for her admirer's atten- 
 tions. 
 * 200 * There can be little doubt that in this play 
 we find some of the materials for the '* Medecin 
 Malgre Lui " ; and though the full success of Moliere's 
 original wdt is not to be questioned, still the happiest 
 portions of his comedy can do no more than come into 
 fair competition with some passages in that of Lope. 
 The character of tlie heroine, for instance, is drawn 
 with more spirit in the Spanish than it is in the French 
 play; and that of the devotee aunt, who acts. as her 
 duenna, and whose hypocrisy is exposed when she her- 
 self falls in love, is one which Moliere might well have 
 envied, though it was too exclusively Spanish to be 
 brought \dthin the courtly conventions 1)}' which he 
 was restrained. 
 
 The whole drama is full of life and gaiety, and has a 
 truth and reality about it rare on iiny stage. Its open- 
 ing is both a proof of this and a characteristic specimen 
 of its author's mode of placing his audience at once, by 
 a decisive movement, in the midst of the scene and 
 the personages he means to represent. Lisardo, the 
 hero, and Riselo, his friend, appear watching the 
 door of a fishionable church in Madrid, at tlie con- 
 
 1)een priiit<*'l separately, and is found another hit at the fashionable drug in 
 in the regular collection, Tom. XI., his "Dorotea," Act V. Sc. 1. 
 liarcelona, lfil8, f. 27, etc. Lope has
 
 Cjiap. XV.] THE AZEKO DK MADRID. 247 
 
 c'lii.sion of tlie service, to see a lady with whom 
 Lisardo is in love. They are wearied with waiting, 
 while the crowds pass out, and Riselo at last declares 
 he will wait for his friend's fancy no longer. At this 
 moment appears Belisa, the lady in question, attended 
 by her aunt, Theodora, who wears an affectedly re- 
 ligious dress and is lecturing her : — 
 
 Theodora. Sliow more of gentleness aiul iiioilt^sty ; — 
 
 Of gentleness in walking quietly, 
 
 Of modesty in looking only down 
 
 Upon the earth you tread. 
 Belisa. 'T is what 1 ilo. 
 
 Theodora. What ? When you 're looking straight towards that man? 
 Belisa. Did j'ou not bid me look upon the earth '< 
 
 And what is he but just a bit of it ? 
 Theodora, I said the earth whereon you tread, my Jiieee. 
 Belisa. But that whereon I tread is hidden (juite 
 
 With my own petticoat and walking-dress. 
 Theodora. Words such as these become no well-bred maid. 
 
 But, by your mother's blessed memory, * 
 
 I '11 put an end to all your pretty tricks ; — 
 
 What ? You look back at him again ? 
 * Belisa. Who ? I ? * 210 
 
 Theodora. Yes, you ; — and make him secret .signs besides. 
 Belisa. Not I. '.T is only that you troubled me 
 
 With teasing (juestions and perverse replies. 
 
 So that I stumbled and looked round to see 
 
 Who would prevent my fall. 
 Riselo (to Lisard'j). She falls again. 
 
 Be quick and iKdji her. 
 Lisardo {to Belisa.) Pardon me, lady, 
 
 And forgive my glove. 
 Theodora. Who ever saw the like ? 
 
 Belisa. I thank you, sir ; you saved me from a fall. 
 Lisardo. An angel, lady, might have fallen so ; 
 
 Or stars that shine with heaven's own blessed light 
 Theodora. I, too, can fall ; but 't is u])on your trick. 
 
 Good gentleman, farewell to you ! 
 Lim.rda. Madam, 
 
 Your servant. (Heaven save us from such spleen!) 
 Theodora. A pretty fall you made of it ; and now I hope 
 
 You '11 be content, since they assisted you. 
 Belim. And you no less content, since now you have 
 
 The means to tease me for a week to come. 
 Theodora. But why again do you turn, back j'our head ?
 
 248 
 
 DRAMAS FOR THE COURT. 
 
 [1'KU1U1> II. 
 
 Bcllsa. W^hy, sine j-oii think it wise and waiy 
 
 To notice well the place I stunibleil at, 
 
 Lest I shoulil stumble there when next 1 j)ass. 
 Theodora. Mischief befall you ! But I know your ways ! 
 
 You '11 not deny this time j-ou looked upon the youth ? 
 Belisa. Deny it ? No ! 
 
 Theodina. You dare confess it, then ? 
 
 Belisa. Be sure I dare. You saw him help me, — 
 
 An\l would you have me fail to thank him for it ? 
 Tlieodvra. Go to ! Come home ! come home I 
 Belisa. Now we shall have 
 
 A jnetty scolding cooked up out of this.*i 
 
 *211 * Other pa.«:sages are equally spirited and no 
 less Castilian. The scene, at the be"innino^ of 
 the second act, between Octavio, another lover of the 
 lady, and his servant, who jests at his master's passion, 
 as well as the scene with the mock doctor, that follows, 
 are both admirable in their way, and must have pro- 
 duced a great effect on the audiences of Madrid, who 
 felt how true they were to the manners of the time. 
 
 But all Lope's dramas were not written for the })ub- 
 lic theatres of the capital. He was the courtly, no less 
 
 ■" TVo. Lleuaoonluni y nioilestia ; — 
 Ci)rdura ea iiiular do e<pa«io ; 
 Modestia en que solo veaa 
 La mi' ma tierra que pisas. 
 
 R'l. Ya hago lo que ine en.«enas. 
 
 Tfn. Coino niiraste ac^uel liombre? 
 
 £fl. No me dixiste que viera 
 Scia tierra? pueji, dime, 
 Aquel homhre no es de tierra ? 
 
 7Vo. Yo la que pisas te digo. 
 
 Bel. La que pi-o va cubicrta 
 De la sava y los chapines. 
 
 Teo. Que palabnts de donwlla I 
 Por el siglo de tu madre, 
 Que yo tc quite essa." tretas I 
 Otni vez le miras? Bel. Yo? 
 
 Teo. Luego no le hi/iste senas ? 
 
 Bel. Fuy a cier, romo me turba-s 
 Con deniandas y n-spue-stas, 
 
 Y mire quieii me tuuie.-ise. 
 Rit. Cay 'I lleRjul i teuerla! 
 Lix. I'erdone, vuessa merced. 
 
 El guante Ten. Ay cxtna. como OBta '. 
 Bel. Ue^o OS las manos, SeBor ; 
 
 Que, si no es por vos, cayem. 
 Lh. Cayera un i^n^l, S<M'i()ni, 
 
 Y fayeran las estrellas, 
 
 A quicn da mas liunbre el sol. 
 Tfo. Y yo rayeni en la puenta 
 
 Yd, raiiallero, roii Dioi ' 
 U.i. VA OS tfuanle, y me detienda 
 
 De eonilieion tan e»tniiia! 
 Teo Ya rayste, yr s eontent.'i, 
 
 D(" que te dieroti la maiio. 
 Bel. Y tu lo irJs de que teni^ 
 
 Con que pudrirme seys dias. 
 Teo. A que bueluiis la cabeija ? 
 Bel. Pues no tc parece que es 
 
 Advertencia may discreta 
 
 Mirar adonde cahi , 
 
 Para que otra vez no buelua 
 
 A trf)pe^;ar en lo mismo ? 
 Teo Ay, mala pascua te venga, 
 
 Y romo entiendo tus mniias. 
 
 Otni vez, y dir.'.s que e?ta 
 
 Xo miraste el ntanccbito ? 
 Bel. Es verdad Tfo. Y lo confiessas ? 
 Bel. Si me di > la niano alii, 
 
 No quieres que lo iigrade.sca ? 
 Teo. Anda, que entrants en csisa. 
 Bel. lo que haras de (juimerasl 
 
 Comedias de Loim* de Yega, Tom. XI., 
 Bart-eloua, 1618, f 27. 
 
 The sort of decorum required in the 
 fii-st lines of this extract is the .same 
 that was observed by the charmiiif^ 
 Dorothea of Cervantes, and wa.s, no 
 doubt, looked upon at the time as no 
 more than a gentle modesty. " Las 
 dias fpie iba a misa era de maftana y tan 
 a('(im))aria(la de mi madre y de otras 
 eriaiias y yo tan culiicata y recatada, 
 <|ue apenas vian mis ojos mas tierm 
 de acpiella donde ponia los pies." Don 
 Qui.xote, Parte I. c. 28.
 
 f'MAP. XV.] TIIK NOCIIE DK JSAN JUAN. 24lJ 
 
 tliiin tlie national poet of his age ; and ;.s we have 
 ahx'ady noticed a phiy fidl of the spirit of his youth, 
 and of the popnhir character, to which it was addressed, 
 Ave will now turn to one no less buoyant and free, wiiicli 
 was written in his old age and prepared expressly foi' 
 a roval entertainment. It is ''The Saint John's Eve," 
 and shows that his manner was the same, whether he 
 was to be judged by the unruly crowds gathered in 
 one of the court-yards of the capital, or by a few ])er- 
 sons selected from whatever was most exclusive and 
 elevated in the kingdom. 
 
 The occasion for which it was prepared and the 
 arrangements for its exhibition mark, at once the 
 luxury of the royal theatres in the reign of Philip the 
 Fourth, and the consideration enjoyed by their 
 favorite poet.'*" The * drama itself was ordered * 212 
 expressly by the Count Duke Olivares, for a 
 magnificent entertainment which he wished to give his 
 sovereign in one of the gardens of Madrid, on Saint 
 John's Eve, in June, 1631. No expense was spared 
 by the profligate favorite to please his indulgent mas- 
 ter. The Marquis Juan Bautista Crescencio — the 
 same artist to whom we owe the sombre Pantheon of 
 the Escurial — arrano-ed the architectural construe- 
 
 *^ Tlie facts relatiiig to this play are a tlieatre of great magnificence. The 
 
 taken partly from the play itself, (Come- drama, which was much like a masijiie 
 
 dias, Tom. XXI., Madrid, 1635, f. 68, of the English theatre, and was per- 
 
 b, ) and partly from Casiano Pellicer, formed by the queen and her ladies, is-. 
 
 Origen y Progresos de la Comedia, Ma- in the Works of Count Villamediana 
 
 drid, ISOi, 12nio, Tom. I. pp. 174-191. (Carago<;a, 1629, 4to, pp. 1-55); and 
 
 The Entrones of "Las Duenas," by an account of the entertainment itself 
 
 Benevente, (Joco-Seria, 1653, tf. 168- is given in Antonio de Mendoca (Obras,. 
 
 172,) was a part of this brilliant festival. Lisljoa, 1690, 4to, pj). 426-464); — all 
 
 A similar entertainment had been indicating the most wasteful luxur}^ and 
 given by his queen to Philip IV., on extraviigance. A curious English ver- 
 his birthday, in 1622, at the beautiful sion of Mendo(;a's account may be found 
 country-seat of Aranjuez, for which the at the end of Sir K. Fanshawe's trans- 
 unfortunate Count of Villamediana fui- lation of Mendo^a's " Querer por sold 
 ni.shed the poetry, and Fontana, the <|uerer," 1670. See joo5<, note to Chap, 
 flistinguishcd Italian architect, erected XXI.
 
 250 THE XOCIIE 1)E SA.\ ,JUA\. [Pkiuod 11. 
 
 tlons, which consisted of luxurious })owors for the kino;- 
 and his courtiers, and a uoioeous theatre in front of 
 them, where, amidst a blaze of torchlight, the two 
 most famous companies of actors of the time ])erf()rmed 
 ►snccessively two plan's : one written by the united tal- 
 ent of Francisco de Quevedo and Antonio de Mendo^'a ; 
 and the other, the crowning grace of the festival, by 
 Lope de Yega. 
 
 The subject of the play of Lope is happily taken 
 from the frolics of the very night on which it was rep- 
 resented ; — a night frequently alluded to in the old 
 Spanish stories and ballads, as one devoted, both by 
 Moors and Christians, to ga3'er superstitions, and ad- 
 ventures more various, than belonged to any other of 
 the old national holidays.*'^ What was represented, 
 therefore, liad a pecidiar interest, from its ai)propriate- 
 ness both as to time and place. 
 
 Leonora, the heroine, fii'st comes on the stage, and 
 confesses her attachment to Don Juan de Hurtado, a 
 gentleman who has recently returned rich from the 
 Lidies. She gives a livel}' sketch of the way in which 
 he had made love to her in all the forms of national 
 admiration, at chiu^ch by day, and Ijefore her grated 
 balcony in the evenings. Don Luis, her brother, igno- 
 rant of all this, gladly becomes acquainted with the 
 lover, whom he interests in a match of his own with 
 Dona Blanca, sister of Bernardo, who is the cheiished 
 friend of Don Juan. Eager to oblige the brother of 
 the lady he loves, Don Juan seeks Bernardo, 
 *21o and, in the course of their conversation. * inge- 
 
 *•' Lope liiiusfir, ill 1(;-J4, |iul)lislic(l a on St. Jolin'.s Eve in S]iani.sh poetry, is 
 
 ])(j(;iM on the .same .sulijcct, wliicii fills in "Doblado's Ijetters," (1822, p. 309,) 
 
 thiity jiages in tlic third volume of his — a work full of tho most faithful 
 
 AV'orks ; hut a d(;.s(jri[ition of the frolics sketches of Spanish character and nian- 
 
 of St. John's Eve, hetter suiteil to ilius- ners. 
 trate this play of I -ope, and much else
 
 CiiAi-. XV.] THE NOCHE DE SAN JUAN. 251 
 
 iiiously describes to him a visit he has just made 
 to see all the arrangements for the evening's enter- 
 tamment now in progress before the court, including 
 tliis identical play of Lope ; thus whimsically claiming 
 from the audience a belief that the action they are wit- 
 nessing on the stage in the garden is, at the very same 
 moment, going on in real life in the streets of Madrid, 
 just behind their backs ; — a passage which, involving, 
 as it does, compliments to the king and the Count 
 Duke, to Quevedo and Mendoc^-a, must have been one 
 of the most brilliant in its effect that can be imagined. 
 But when Don Juan comes to explain his mission 
 about the Lady Blanca, although he finds a most will- 
 ing consent on the part of her brother, Bernardo, he 
 is thunderstruck at the suggestion, that this brother, 
 his most intimate friend, wishes to make the alliance 
 double, and marry Leonora himself 
 
 Now, of course, begin the involutions and difficulties. 
 Don Juan's sense of what he owes to his friend forbids 
 him from setting up his own claim to Leonora, and he 
 at once decides that nothing remains for him but flight. 
 At the same time, it is discovered that the Lady Blanca 
 is already attached to another person, a noble cavalier, 
 named Don Pedro, and will, therefore, never marry 
 Don Luis, if she can avoid it. The course of true love, 
 therefore, runs smooth in neither case. But both the 
 ladies avow their determination to remain steadfiistly 
 faithful to their lovers, though Leonora, from some 
 fancied symptoms of coldness in Don Juan, arising out 
 of his over-nice sense of honor, is in despair at the 
 thought that he may, after all, prove false to her. 
 
 So ends the first act. The second opens with the 
 Lady Blanca's account of her own lover, his condition, 
 and the way in which he had made his love known to
 
 252 THE XOCIIE be sax .WXN. [Period II. 
 
 her in a piiblic garden ; — all most faithful to the 
 national costume. But just as she is readv to escape 
 and l)e pri\ately married to him, her brother, Don 
 Bernardo, comes in, and proposes to her to make her 
 first visit to Leonora, in order to promote his own snit. 
 Meantime, the poor Leonora, quite desperate, rushes 
 
 into the street with her attendant, and meets 
 *214 her lovers servant, the clown and *liar]e(|uin 
 
 of the piece, who tells her that his master, 
 nnal)le any longer to endure his sufferings, is just 
 about escaping from Madrid. The master, Don Juan, 
 follows in hot haste, booted for his journey. The lady 
 faints. When she revives, they come to ui\ under- 
 standing, and determine to be married on the instant ; 
 so that Ave have noAv two private marriages, beset with 
 difficulties, on the carpet at once. But the streets 
 are full of frolicsome crowds, who are indulged in a 
 sort of carnival freedom during this popular festivaL 
 Don Juan's rattling servant gets into a quarrel with 
 some gay young men, who are imj^ertinent to his 
 master, and to the terrified Leonora. Swords are 
 drawn, and Don Juan is arrested by the officers of 
 justice and carried off, — the lady, in her fright, taking 
 refuge in a house, which accidentally turns out to be 
 that of Don Pedro. But Don Pedro is abroad, seeking 
 for his own lady. Dona Blanca. When he returns, 
 however, making his way with difficulty through the 
 rioting populace, he promises, as in Castilian honor 
 bound, to protect the helpless and imknown Leonora, 
 whoui he finds in his balcony timidly watching the 
 movements of the crowd in the street, among whom 
 she is hoping to catch a glimpse of her own lover. 
 
 In the last jict we learn that Don Juan has at once, 
 by bribes, easily rid liimself of the officers of justice,
 
 Chap. XV.] THE NOCIIE DE SAX JUAN. 253 
 
 iin<I is again in the noisy and gay streets seeking for 
 Leonora. He falls in with Don Pedro, whom he has 
 never seen before ; but Don Pedro, taking him, fi'om 
 his iiKpiiries, to l)e the l)rothei from whom Lecjuora is 
 anxious to be concealed, carefully avoids betraying 
 her to him. UnhapjMly, the Lady Blanca now arrives, 
 having been j^revented from coming earlier by the 
 confusion in the streets ; and he hurries her into his 
 house for concealment till the marriage ceremony can be 
 performed. But she hurries out again no less quickly, 
 having found another lady alread*y^ concealed there; — 
 a circumstance which she takes to be direct proof of 
 her lover's falsehood. Leonora follows her, and begins 
 an explanation ; but in the midst of it, the two 
 brothers, who had Ijeen seeking these same 
 missing sisters, come suddenly in; *a scene of * 215 
 great confusion and mutual reproaches ensues ; 
 and then the curtain falls with a recognition of all the 
 mistakes and attachments, and the full happiness of the 
 two ladies and their two lovers. At the end, the poet, 
 in his own person, declares, that, if his art permits him 
 to extend his action over twenty-four hours, he has, in 
 the present case, kept within its rules, since he has 
 occupied less than ten. 
 
 As a specimen of plays fomided, on Spanish manners, 
 few are happier than " The Saint John's Eve." The 
 love-scenes, all honor and passion ; the scenes between 
 the cavaliers and the populace, at once rude and gay; 
 and the scenes with the free-spoken servant who plays 
 the wit, — are almost all excellent, and instinct with 
 the national character. It was received with the great- 
 est applause, and constituted the finale of the Count 
 Duke's magnificent entertainment, which, w'ith its mu- 
 sic and dances, interludes and refreshments, occupied
 
 2-54 THE iJOlJA I'AKA LOS OTIiOS. [PKUir.D 11. 
 
 the whole night, from nme o'cloek in the evenmg till 
 daylight the next morning, when the royal party 
 vswept hack Avith great pomp and ceremon}^ to the pal- 
 ace ; — the stately form of Olivarez, such as we see 
 him in the pictures of \"elazfj[uez, following the king's 
 coach in place of the accustomed servant. 
 
 Another of the plaA's of Lope, and one that belongs 
 to the division of the Capa y Ei<pada, but approaches 
 that of the heroic drama, is his '• Fool for Others and 
 Wise for Herself."'*^ It is of a lighter and livelier 
 temper throughout tlmn most of its class. Diana, edu- 
 cated in the simple estate of a shepherdess, and wholly 
 ignorant that she is the daughter and heir of the Duke 
 of Urbino, is suddenly called, l)y the death of her fa- 
 ther, to fill his place. She is surrounded b}' intriguing 
 enemies, but triumphs over them by affecting a rustic 
 simplicity in whatever she says and does, while, at the 
 same time, she is manairino: all around her. and carrv- 
 
 ■CO *. 
 
 ino; on a love-intrifj-ue with the Duke Alexander Far- 
 
 nese. which ends in her marriage Avith him. 
 * 21G *^ The jest of the piece lies in the wit she is 
 able to conceal under her seeming rusticity. 
 For instance, at the very ()})ening, after she has been 
 secretly informed of the true state of things, and has 
 determined what course to pursue, the ambassadors 
 from Urbino come in and tell her, with a solemnity 
 suited to the occasion : — 
 
 Lady, our sovereign lonl, the Duke, is dead ! 
 
 To which she replies : — 
 
 What 's that to me ? But if 't is surely so, 
 Why then, sirs, 't is for you to bury hira. 
 I 'm not the parish curate*^ 
 
 ** Comedias, Tom. XXL, Madrid, EnterraUle, Settorcs, 
 
 1 fi3.5 f. 45 ete. ^^^ >" "" ^°' *' ^ar». 
 « Cdmilo. SeHora, ol Diique CK murrto. CoiiieJixs Tom. XXI.. 
 
 Ditinn. I'iii>» fini' w im; .In ;'• mi ' j.i-ro Hi Madrid, 16.3.">, f. 47.
 
 C'liAP. XV.J VAlMOrs PLAYS. 255 
 
 This tone is maintained to the end, whenever the 
 heroine appears ; and it gives Lope an opportunity to 
 bring forth a great deal of the fluent, Ught wit of 
 which he had such ample store. 
 
 Little like all we have yet noticed, but still belong- 
 ing to the same class, is " The lieward of Speaking 
 Well," ^"^ — a charming play, in which the accounts of 
 the hero's birth and early condition are so absolutely 
 ;i description of his own that it can hardly be doubted 
 that Lope intended to draw the character in some de- 
 gree from himself Don Juan, who is the hero, is 
 standing with some idle gallants near a church in 
 Seville, to see the ladies come out ; and, while there, 
 defends, though he does not know her, one of them 
 who is lightly spoken of A quarrel ensues. He 
 wounds his adversary, is pursued, and chances to take 
 refuge in the house of the very lady whose honor he 
 had so gallantly maintained a few moments before. 
 She from gratitude secretes him, and the play ends 
 with a wedding, though not until there has been a per- 
 fect confusion of plots and counterplots, intrigues and 
 concealments, such as so often go to make up the three 
 acts of Lope's dramas. 
 
 Man}^ other plays might be added to these, showing, 
 by the diversity of their tone and character, 
 how diverse * were the gifts of the extraordi- * 217 
 nary man Avho invented them, and filled them 
 with various and easy verse. Among them are " Por 
 la Puente Juana," *' "EI Anzuelo de Fenisa,"**^ "El 
 Ruysefior de Sevilla";*' " Porfiar hasta Morir,"^ 
 
 *^ Comedias, Tom. XXI., Madrid, 1617, and often printed separately; a 
 
 1635, f. 158, etc. jilay remarkable for its gayety and 
 
 *'' Comedias, Tom. XXI., Madrid, .spirit. 
 
 1635, f. 243, etc. It has often been « Comedias, Tom. XVII., Madrid, 
 
 jninted separately; once in London. 1621, f. 187, etc. 
 
 The title is tlie first lini' of an old liallad. ^j ('omedias, Tom. XXIII. , Madrid, 
 
 *8 Comedias, Tom. Vlll., Madrid, 1638, f. 96, etc.
 
 256 
 
 VAKIOU.S I 'LA VS. 
 
 [Period II. 
 
 which last is on the story of Macias el Enamorado. 
 always a favorite with the old Spanish and Provenc^al 
 poets ; and the '• Bizarrias de Belisa," a gay comedy, 
 which is interesting from the circumstance that it was 
 finished in 1684, when he was nearly seventy-two years 
 old. But it is neither needful nor possible to go fur- 
 ther. Enouo'h has been said to show the o-eneral char- 
 
 o o 
 
 acter of their class, and we therefore now turn tO' 
 another.^^ 
 
 ^1 From the Spanish translation of 
 this History, (Tom. II. p. 551,) I col- 
 lect tlie ibllowing dates of a few plays 
 of Lope on the authority of his own 
 autographs : — 
 
 Prueba de los Amigos, 12th Septem- 
 ber, 1604". 
 
 Carlos V. en Francia, 20th Novem- 
 ber, 1604. 
 
 Batalla del Honor, 18th Apiil, 1608. 
 
 Encomienda mal guardada, 19th 
 April, 1610. 
 
 Lo que ha de ser, 2d September, 
 1624. 
 
 Competencia en los Xobles, 16th No- 
 vember, 1625. 
 
 Sin Secreto no liav Amor, ISth Jul v. 
 1626. 
 
 Bizarrias de Belisa, 24th May, 1634. 
 
 1 can add to these from my own col- 
 lection : — 
 
 Castigo sin Venganza, 1st August, 
 1631. 
 
 See, also, Salva y Baranda, Documen- 
 tos Ineditos, Tom. I., and Chorley's 
 Catalogue, already referred to.
 
 * CHAPTER XVI. *218 
 
 LOPE DE VEGA, COXTIXrEn. — HIS HEROIC DRAMA, AND ITS CHARACTERIS- 
 TICS. GREAT NUMRER ON SIB.IECTS FROM SPANISH HISTORY, AND SOME 
 
 ON CONTEMPORARY EVENTS. 
 
 The drfimas of Lope cle Vega that belong to the 
 next class were called " Comedias Heroicas," or " Co- 
 medias Historiales," — Heroic or Historical Dramas. 
 The chief differences between these and the last 
 are, that they bring on the stage personages in a 
 higher rank of life, such as kings and princes ; that 
 they generally have an historical foundation, or at least 
 use historical names, as if claiming it ; and that their 
 prevailing tone is grave, imposing, and even tragical. 
 They have, however, in general, the same involved, in- 
 triguing stories and underplots, the same play of jeal- 
 ousy and an over-sensitive honor, and the same low, 
 comic caricatures to relieve their serious parts, that are 
 found in the dramas of " the Cloak and Sword." Philip 
 the Second disapproved of this class of plays, thinking 
 they tended to diminish the royal dignity, — a circum- 
 stance which shows at once the state of manners at the 
 time, and the influence attributed to the theatre.^ 
 
 Lope wrote a very large number of plays in the 
 forms of the heroic drama, which he substantially in- 
 vented, — perhaps as many as he wrote in an}^ other 
 class. Everything historical seemed, indeed, to furnish 
 him with a subject, from the earliest annals of the 
 
 ^ Lope de Vega, Obras Suelta.s, Tom. se introduce Key o Senor soberano es 
 
 IV. p. 410. Such plays were al.so some- Tragedia." See Lagrimas Panegiricas 
 
 times called tragedies. "Aquelladonde de Montalvan, 1639, f. 150, b. 
 \oh. 11. 17
 
 258 CO-MEDIAS IIKUOICAS. [Pekiud II. 
 
 world down to the events of liis own time ; 
 *211) but his fa "orite materials * were souo-ht in 
 Greek and Roman records, and especially in the 
 < Inonicles and ballads of Spain itself 
 
 Of the manner in which he dealt witli ancient his- 
 tory, his '•Roma Abrasada," or Rome in Ashes, ma}' 
 be taken as a specimen, though certainly one of the 
 least favoral^le specimens of the class to which it be- 
 lono-s.^ The facts on which it is foinided are gathered 
 from the commonest sources open to its author,— 
 chietiy from the " General Chronicle of Spain " ; but 
 they are not formed into a well-constructed or even 
 ingenious plot;' and they relate to the whole twenty 
 years- that elapsed between the death of Messalina, 
 the reign of Claudius, and the death of Nero himself, 
 who is not only the hero, )3ut sometimes the (jraciom, 
 or droll, of the piece. 
 
 The first act, which comes down to the murder of 
 Claudius by Nero and Agrippina, contains the old jest 
 of the Emperor asking why his wife does not come to 
 dinner, after he had put her to death, and adds, for 
 equally popular effect, abundant praises of Spain and 
 of Lucan and Seneca, claiming both oi' them to be 
 Spaniards, and making the latter an astrologer, as well 
 as a moralist. The second act shows Nero beginning 
 his reign with great gentleness, and follows Suetonius 
 and the old Chronicle in makins; him o-rieve that he 
 knew how to write, since otherwise he could not have 
 been required to sign an order for a just judicial exe- 
 cution. The subsequent violent change in his con- 
 
 2 Comedias, Tom. XX., Madrid, ltj'29, 111,) witli tlie c<»nx's])oiidinf,' iiassa<,'('.s 
 
 fr. 177, <'tc. It is entitled '^ Tnifjedia in tlie " Konia Abnv.sada. " In one ]ias- 
 
 Fainosa." sage of Act III., Lojie u.ses a ballad, 
 
 ^ It is worth while to compare Sue- the lirst lines of which occur in the 
 
 tonius, (Books V. and VI.,) and the lii-st act of the "Celestina." 
 " Croniia (Jeneral," (Parte I. c. 110 and
 
 l-'iiAi'. XVI.] THE i;OMA AURAS ADA. 259 
 
 duct is 11(^1. however, in any way explained or ac- 
 counted lor. It is simply set before the spectators 
 as a fact, and IVoui this moment beg-ins the headlong: 
 career of his guilt. 
 
 A curious scene, purely Spanish, is one of the early 
 intimations of this change of character. Nero falls in 
 love with Eta ; but not at all in the Roman fashion. 
 He visits her by night at her window, sings a sonnet 
 to her, is interrupted by four men in disguise, kills one 
 of them, and escapes from the ])ursuit of his 
 own officers of justice * with difficulty ; all, as * 1^20 
 if he were a wandering knight so fair of the 
 time of Philip the Third.* The more historical love 
 for PoppjBa follows, with a shocking interview between 
 Nero and his mother, in consequence of which he or- 
 ders her to be at once put to death. The execution 
 of this order, with the horrid exposure of her jierson 
 afterwards, ends the act, which, gross as it is, does not 
 sink to the revolting atrocities of the old Chronicle 
 from which it is chiefly taken. 
 
 The third act is so arranged as partly to gratify the 
 national vanity and partly to conciliate the influence 
 of the Church, of which Lope, like his contemporaries, 
 always stood in awe. Several devout Christians, there- 
 fore, are now introduced, and we have an edifying 
 confession of faith, embracing the history of the world 
 from the creation to the crucifixion, with an account 
 of what the Spanish historians regard as the first of 
 the twelve persecutions. The deaths of Seneca and 
 Lncan follow ; and then the conflagration of Rome, 
 which, as it constitutes the show part of the play, and 
 is relied on for the stage effect it would produce, is 
 
 ■^ This scene is in the second act, ;ind forms that part of the ])hiy where Nero 
 eiia<;ts the (jracioso.
 
 2G0 THE PKIXCIPE PEKFETO. [Pki:iud II. 
 
 brought in near the end. out of the proper order of the 
 storv, and after the buihling of Nero's luxurious palace, 
 the '' aurea domus," which was realh' constructed in 
 the desert the fire had left. The audience, meantime, 
 have been put in good-humor b}' a scene in Spain, 
 where a conspiracy is on foot to overthrow the Em- 
 peror s power ; and the drama concludes with the 
 death of Poppa^a, — again less gross than the account 
 of it in the Chronicle, — with Nero's own death, and 
 with the proclamation of Galba as his successor; all 
 crowded into a space disproportionately small for in- 
 cidents so important. 
 
 But it was not often that Lope wrote so ill or so 
 grossh". On modern, and especially on national sub- 
 jects, he is almost always more fortunate, and some- 
 times becomes powerful and imposing. Among these, 
 as a characteristic, though not as a remarkabh' favor- 
 able, specimen of his success, is to be placed the 
 *221 '-Principe Perfeto," ^ *in which he intends to 
 give his idea of a perfect prince mider the 
 character of Don John of Portugal, son of iVlfonso the 
 Fifth and contemporary with Ferdinand and Isabella, 
 a full-length portrait of whom, by his friend and con- 
 fidant, is drawn in the opening of the second act, with 
 a minuteness of detail that leaves no doubt as to the 
 qualities for which princes w^ere valued in the age of 
 the Philips, if not those for which the}- would be 
 valued now. 
 
 Elsewhere in the piece, Don John is represented to 
 have fought Ijravely in the disastrous battle of Toro, 
 and to have voluntarily restored the throne to his 
 father, who had once abdicated in his favor and had 
 afterwards reclaimed the supreme power. Personal 
 
 6 Comedias, Tom. XI., Barcelona, 1618, ft. 121, etc.
 
 CnAr. XVI.] THE PKINCIPE TEKFETO. 261 
 
 coiinige and strict justice, however, are the attribiite^^ 
 most relied on to exhibit him as a perfect prince. Of 
 the former he gives })roof hy kilUng a man in sell- 
 defence, and entering into a bull-fight under the most 
 perilous circumstances. Of the latter — his lo\e of 
 justice — many instances are brought on the stage, 
 and, among the ]:est, his protection of Columbus, after 
 the return of that great navigator from xYmerica, 
 thouo-h aware how much his discoveries had redounded 
 to the honor of a rival country, and how great had 
 been his own error in not obtaining the benefit of 
 them for Portugal. But the most prominent of these 
 instances of justice relates to a private and personal 
 history, and forms the main subject of the drama. It 
 is as follows. 
 
 Don Juan de Sosa, the king's favorite, is twice sent 
 by him to Spain on embassies of consequence, and, 
 while residing there, lives in the family of a gentleman 
 connected with him by blood, to whose daughter, 
 Leonora, he makes love, and wins her affections. Each 
 time when Don Juan returns to Portugal, he forgets 
 his plighted faith and leaves the lady to languish. At 
 last, she comes with her father to Lisbon in the train 
 of the Spanish princess, Isabella, now married to the 
 kin.q-'s son. But even there the false knio-ht 
 
 O <D 
 
 refuses to recognize his * obligations. In her * 222 
 despair, she presents herself to the king, and 
 explains her position in the following conversation, 
 which is a favorable specimen of the easy narrative in 
 which resides so much of the charm of Lope's drama. 
 A-S Leonora enters, she exclaims : — 
 
 Prince, whom in peace and war men perfect call, 
 
 Listen a woman's cry ! 
 King. Begin ; — I hear 
 
 Leonora. Fadrique — he of ancient Lara's house,
 
 2G2 THE ritlNClPE PEKFETO, [Pekiuu II. 
 
 And goveiTior of Seville — is my sire. 
 King. Pause tlieve, and pardon first the courtesy 
 
 That owes a deb; to thy name and to his, 
 
 Which ignorance alone could fail to pay. 
 Lemiora. Such condescending gentleness, my lord, 
 
 Is worthy of the wisdom and the wit 
 
 "Whicli through the world are blazoned and admired. — 
 
 But to my tale. Twice came there to Castile 
 
 A knight from this thy land, whose name I hide 
 
 Till all his frauds are manifest. For thou. 
 
 My lord, dost love him in such wise, that, wert 
 
 Thou other than thou art, my true complaints 
 
 Would f' ..r to seek a justice they in vain 
 
 Would strive to find. Each time within our house 
 
 He dwelt a guest, and from the very first 
 
 He sought my love. 
 King- Speak on, and let not .shame 
 
 Oppress thy words ; for to the judge and priest 
 
 Alike confession's voice should boldly come. 
 Leonora. I was deceived. He went and left me sad 
 
 To mourn his absence ; for of them he is 
 
 Who leave behind their knightly, nobler parts, 
 
 When they themselves are long since fled and gone. 
 
 Again he came, his voice more sweetly tuned. 
 
 More siren dike, than ever. I heard the voice. 
 
 Nor knew its hidden fraud. 0, would that Heaven 
 
 Had made us, in its highest justice, deaf. 
 
 Since tongues so false it gave to men ! He lured, 
 
 He lured me as the fowler lures the bird 
 
 In snares and meshes hid beneath the gra.ss. 
 
 I straggled, but in vain ; for Love, heaven's child. 
 
 Has power the mightiest fortress to subdue. 
 
 He pledg(Hl his knightly word, — in writing pledged it, 
 
 Trusting that afterwards, in Portugal, 
 
 The debt and all might safely be denied ; — 
 
 As if the heavens were narrower than the earth, 
 
 And ju.stice not supreme. In short, my lord. 
 
 He went ; and, proud and vain, the banners bore 
 * 223 * That my submission marked, not my defeat ; 
 
 For where love is, there comes no victory. 
 
 His spoils he carried to his native land. 
 
 As if they had been torn in heathen war 
 
 From Africa ; such as in Arcila, 
 
 In earliest youth, thyself with glory won ; 
 
 Or such as now, from .shores remote, thy .ships 
 
 Bring home, — tlark slaves, to darker slavery. 
 
 Xo written word of his came back to me. 
 
 My honor wept its obserpiies, and built its tomb 
 
 With Love's extingui.shed torches. Soon, tlie prince.
 
 Chap. XV J.] 
 
 Tin; i'i;iN( ii'E tekfeto. 
 
 ^60 
 
 Tliy son, was wed witli our Infanta fair, — 
 God grant it for a blessing to botli realms ! — 
 And with her, as ambassador, my sire 
 To Lisbon eame, and I with him. But here — 
 Even here — his promises that knight denies. 
 And so disheartens and despises me. 
 That, if your Grace no remedy can find, 
 The end of all must be the end of life, — 
 So heavy is my misery. 
 
 Kiiuj. That scroll ? 
 
 Thou hast it ? 
 
 Leonora. Surely. Jt were an error 
 
 Not to be lepaired, if I had lost it. 
 
 King. It cannot be but I should know the hand, 
 If he who wrote it in my household serve. 
 
 Leonorn. This is the scroll, my lord. 
 
 King. And John de Sosa's is 
 
 The signature ! But yet, unless mine eyes 
 Had seen and recognized his very hand, 
 I never had believed the tale thou bring' st ; — 
 So liighlv deem I of his faithfulness.** 
 
 ' D. Lto. Principe, qii". en paz, y en guerra, 
 Te Jlama perfeto el mundo, 
 Oye una muger '■ Rey. Comienija. 
 
 D. Leo. Del gobernador Fadrique 
 
 De Lara soy hija. Rey. Espera. 
 I'erdona al no conocerte 
 La cortesia, que es deuda 
 Digna 4 tu padre y 4 ti. 
 
 D. Leo. Essa es gala y gentileza 
 
 Digna de tu ingenio claro, 
 
 Que el mundo admira y celebra. — 
 
 Por dos vezes i ("astilla 
 
 Fue un fidalgo desta tierra, — 
 
 Que quiero encubrir el nonibre, 
 
 Ilasta que su engaiio sepas ; 
 
 Porque le qiueres de modo, 
 
 Que teniiera^e mis quexas 
 
 Xo hallanin justioia en ti, 
 
 Si otro que tu mi<mo fueras. 
 
 Poso entrambas en mi casa ; 
 
 .'*olicito la primera 
 
 Mi Toluntad. He;/. Di ailelante, 
 
 Y no te oprima verguenga, 
 
 Que tambien con los juezes 
 
 Las persouas se confiessan. 
 
 D. Leo. Agradeci .«ius enganos. 
 
 Partiose ; llore su ausencia ; 
 
 Que las partes deste hidalgo, 
 
 Quando pI se parte, ellas quedan. 
 
 BoUiio otra rez, y boluio 
 
 Mav dulcemente .«irena 
 
 Con la voz no vi el engano. 
 
 Ay, Dios I Seiior, si nacieran 
 
 L;is mugeres sin oydos, 
 
 Ya que los hombres con lenguafi. 
 
 Llamome al fin, como suele 
 
 A la perdiz la cautcla 
 
 Di'l laoador engaiioso, 
 
 Las redes entre la yerua. 
 
 Rcsistime : mas que importa, 
 
 Si la mayor fortaleza 
 
 Xo contradize el amor, 
 
 Que es hijo de las estrellas? 
 
 Una cedilla me hizo 
 
 De s<?r mi marido, y esta 
 
 Deuio de ser con intcnto 
 De no conocer la deuda, 
 En estando en Portugal, 
 Como si el cielo no fuera 
 Cielo sobre todo el mundo, 
 
 Y su justicia suprema. 
 Al fin, Seiior, el se fue, 
 Ufano con las banderas 
 De una muger ya rendida ; 
 
 Que donde hay amor, no hay fuer^a. 
 
 Despojos traxo a su patria, 
 
 Como si de Africa fueran, 
 
 Dc los Moros, que en Arcila 
 
 Venciste en tu edad primera, 
 
 O de los remotos mares, 
 
 De cuyas blancas arenas 
 
 Te traen negros esclauos 
 
 Tus armadas Portuguesas. 
 
 Nunca mas vi letra suya. 
 
 Lloro mi amor sus obse<juias, 
 
 Hize el tumulo del llanto, 
 
 Y de amor las hachas muertas. 
 t'aso el Princii)e tu hijo 
 
 Con nuestra Infanta, que sea 
 Para bien de entrambos reynos. 
 Vino mi padre con ella. 
 Vine con el a Lisboa, 
 Donde este fidalgo niega 
 Tan justas obligaciones, 
 
 Y de suerte me desprecia. 
 Que me ha de quitar la vida, 
 Si tu Alteza no remedia 
 
 De una muger la desdicha. 
 Key. Viuelacedula? D. L^n. Fuera 
 
 Error no aucria guardado. 
 Rfy. Yo conocere la letra. 
 
 Si es criado de mi casa 
 D. Leo. Seiior, la cedula es esta. 
 Hey. Ia firma dize, Don .Tuan 
 
 De So.sa I No lo creyera, 
 
 A no conocer la firma, 
 
 De su virtud y prudencia. 
 Comedias de Lope de Vega, Tom. XI.» 
 Biircelona, ltJ18, ff. 143, 144.
 
 *2C»4 THE XrEVO MUXDO. [Period II. 
 
 * 224 * The dcnonemeni naturally consists in the mar- 
 
 riage, which is thus made a record of the king's 
 perfect justice. 
 
 Columbus, as we have intimated, appears in this 
 piece. He is introduced with little skill, but the 
 dignity of his pretensions is not forgotten. In another 
 drama, devoted to the discovery of America, and 
 called "'The New World of Columbus," his character is 
 further and more trulj' developed. The play itself 
 embraces the events of the great Admiral's life be- 
 tween his first vain effort to obtain countenance in 
 Portugal and his triumphant presentation of the spoils 
 of the New World to Ferdinand and Isabella at Barce- 
 lona, —-- a period amounting to about fourteen years." 
 It is one of Lope's more wild and extravagant at- 
 tempts, but it is not witliout marks of his peculiar 
 talent, and it fully embodies the national feeling in 
 regard to America, as a world rescued from heathenism. 
 Some of its scenes are laid in Portugal ; others on the 
 plain of Granada, at the moment of its fall ; others in 
 the caravel of Columbus durintr the mutinv ; and vet 
 others in the West Indies, and before his sovereigns 
 on his return home. • 
 
 * 225 * Among the personages, besides such as 
 
 might be reasonably anticipated from the 
 course of the story, are Gonzalvo de Cordova, sundry 
 Moors, several American Indians, and several spiritual 
 beings, such as Providence, Christianity, and Idolatry ; 
 
 This ]>a-ssaf;e is near the end of the "^ C'oine<lias, Tom. IV., Madnil, 1614; 
 
 j»iew, and leads to the (Unoneme.nl by and also in the Ajipendix to Ochoa's 
 
 one of tho.se flowing nanativi's, like an " Teatro Escogido de Lojie de Vega" 
 
 Italian novella, to wliicli Lope frecjncut- (Paris, 1838, 8va). Fernando de Zarate 
 
 ly le.sorts, when the intriguing faljjc of took .some of the materials for his "Con- 
 
 the diama hits In-en carried far enougli fiuista tie ile.xieo," (Comedias i'-seogi- 
 
 to fill up the three luistomary acts. ila.s, Tom. XXX., Ma<lrid, 1668,) such 
 
 Arcila, refeired to in th(^ text with a.s the opening of Jornada II., from this 
 
 skill, was taken from th<- .Moors the I>liiy <jf I-ope tie Vega. 
 24th of .\ugu.s1, 1471.
 
 TiiAi'. XVI.] TIIK NUEVO MUNDO. 2(j5 
 
 the liLst of whom strii<ji:<i:les with i»;reat vehemence, at 
 the tribunal of Providence, against the introduction 
 of the Spaniards and their religion into the New 
 World, and in passages like the following seems in 
 danger of having the best of the argument. 
 
 O Pi-ovi(l(>iice Divine, permit them not 
 To do me tliis most plain unrighteousness ! 
 "I' is hut base avaiice that spxirs them on. 
 Keligion is the cohjr and tiie i-loak ; 
 But goLl and silvei-, hid within the eartli, 
 Are all they truly seek and strive to win." 
 
 The greater part of the action and the best portions 
 of it pass in the New World ; but it is difficult to ima- 
 gine anything more extravagant than the whole fable. 
 Dramatic propriety is constantly set at naught. The 
 Indians, before the appearance of Europeans among 
 them, sing about Phcjebus and Diana ; and while, from 
 the first, they talk nothing but Spanish, they frequent- 
 ly pretend, after the arrival of the Spaniards, to be un- 
 able to understand a word of their lana-uaire. The 
 scene in which Idolatr^^ pleads its cause against Chris- 
 tianity before Divine Providence, the scenes with the 
 Demon, and those touching the conversion of the hea- 
 then, might have been presented in the rudest of the 
 old Moralities. Those, on the contrary, in which the 
 natural feelings and jealousies of the simj3le and igno- 
 rant natives are brought out, and those in which Co- 
 lumbus appears, — always dignified and gentle, — are 
 not without merit. Few, however, can be said to be 
 truly good or poetical ; and yet a poetical interest is. 
 kept up through the worst of them, and the story 
 they involve is followed to the end with a living cu- 
 riosity. 
 
 8 No permitas, Providencia, So color de rolipion.' 
 
 Hacerme esta sinjusticia ; Tan ,i husrar plata y oro 
 
 Pues los lleua la codicia Del cnciibii"-to t<>soro. 
 A hacer esta diligencia. ^, ^^^^^ ^^^^^ ^ j^^^_ j_
 
 2tJG THE CAST1G(^' .SIX VENGAN/A. [Pkuioi. 11. 
 
 The common traditions are repeated, that 
 * 22G Colmnbus * was Ijorii at Nervi, and that he i-e- 
 ceived from a dying pilot at Madeira the charts 
 that led Mm to his grand adventure ; but it is singu- 
 lar, that, in contradiction to all this, Lope, in other 
 parts of the play, should have hazarded the suggestion, 
 that Columbus was moved by Divine inspiration. The 
 friar, in the scene of the mutiny, declares it expressly ; 
 and Colum])us himself, in his discourse with his brother 
 Bartholomew, when their foi'tunes seemed all but des- 
 perate, i^lainly alludes to it, when he says: — 
 
 A hidden Deity still drives ine on, 
 
 Bidding me trust the truth of wlmt I feel, 
 
 And, if I watch, or if I sleep, inqiels 
 
 The strong will holdly to work out its way. 
 
 But what is this that thus possesses nw '. 
 
 "What spirit is it drives me onwaid thus ? 
 
 Where am I borne ? What is the road I take ? 
 
 What track of destinj- is this I tread ? 
 
 And what the impulse that I blindly follow ? 
 
 Am I not poor, unknown, a broken man, 
 
 Dei)ending on the pilot's anxious trade ? 
 
 And shall I venture on the mighty task 
 
 Ti. add a distant world to this we know ?» 
 
 The conception of the character in this particular is 
 good, and, being foinided, as we know it was, on the 
 2:)ersonal convictions of Columbus- himself, might have 
 been followed out by further developments with poet- 
 ical effect. But the opportunity is neglected, and. like 
 many other occasions for success, is thrown away by 
 Lope, through haste and carelessness. 
 
 Another of the dramas of this class, '"■ El Castigo sin 
 Venganza," or "Punishment, not Revenge," is impor- 
 
 9 Una serrfita deiduil Que derrota, que destino 
 
 A qiip lo intcntc nie iinpele, Sigo, <> me conduce aqui ? 
 
 Diciendoiiii' qui- es verdiid, Un homhre imbre, y auu roto, 
 
 Que en fin, i(Ue duemia 6 que vele, Que ansi lo puedo decir, 
 
 Persi>jue r i volutit^ul. Y que vive de jyloto, 
 
 Que e*es*ii que li!'. entrado en mi ? Quiere A este mundo nfiadir 
 
 Quien uie llevi ■' uiuevo ans'i ? Otro uiundn tan reniotn ! 
 Donde voj , donde camino ? El Xuevo Mundo, Jorn. I.
 
 Chap. XYL] THE CASTIGO SIN YENGAXZA. 207 
 
 tant from the mode in which its subject is treated, and 
 interesting from the circumstance that its history 
 can be more exactly traced than that of * any * 227 
 other of Loj^e's phiys. It is founded on the 
 dark and hideous story in the annals of Ferrara, dur- 
 ing the fifteenth century, which Lord Byron found in 
 Gibbon's " Antiquities of the House of Brunswick," and 
 made the subject of his " Parisina," ^"^ but which Lope, 
 following the old chronicles of the duchy, has presented 
 in a somewhat different light, and thrown with no little 
 skill into a dramatic form. 
 
 The Duke of Ferrara, in his traged}^, is a person of 
 mark and spirit, — a commander of the Papal forces, 
 and a prince of statesmanlike experience and virtues. 
 He marries when already past the middle age of life, 
 and sends his natural son, Frederic, to receive his 
 beautiful bride, a daughter of the Duke of Mantua, and 
 to conduct her to Ferrara. Before he reaches Mantua, 
 however, Frederic meets her accidentally on the way ; 
 and his first interview with his step-mother is when he 
 rescues her from drowning. From this moment they 
 become gradually more and more attached to each 
 other, until their attachment ends in guilt; partly' 
 through the strong impulses of their own natures, and 
 partly from the coldness and faithlessness of the Duke 
 to his young and passionate wife. 
 
 On his return home from a successful campaign, the 
 Duke discovers the intrigue. A struggle ensues be- 
 tween his affection for his son and the stinorino; sense 
 of his own dishonor. At last be determines to punish; 
 but in such a manner as tc hide the grounds of his 
 
 1" Tlie story was well known, from Lope, in the Preface to his version of It, 
 
 its peculiar horrors, though the events says it was extant in Latin, French, 
 
 occurred in 1405, — more than two cen- German, Tuscan, and Castilian. 
 turies before the date of the play.
 
 268 THE CASTIGO SIN YENGAXZA. [Pkkk.d II. 
 
 offence. To effect this, he confines his wife in a dar- 
 kened room, and so conceals and secures her person, 
 that she can neither move, nor speak, nor be seen. 
 He then sends his offending son to her, under the pre- 
 tence that beneath the pall that hides her is placed 
 ji traitor, whom the son is required to kill in order 
 to protect his fjither's life ; and when the desperate 
 young man rushes from the room, ignorant who 
 * 228 has been his victim, he is instantly cut * down 
 by the bj^standers, on his father's outcry, that 
 he has just murdered his step-mother, with whose 
 Ijlood his hands are, in fict, visibl}^ reeking. 
 
 Lope finished this play on the 1st of August, 1631, 
 when he was nearly sixty-nine years old ; and yet 
 there are few of his dramas, in the class to which 
 it belongs, that are more marked Avith poetical vigor, 
 and in none is the versification more light and vari- 
 ous.^^ The characters, especially those of the father 
 and son, are better defined and better sustained than 
 usual ; and the whole was evidently written with care, 
 for there are not infrequently large alterations, as well 
 as many minute verbal corrections, in the original 
 manuscript, which is still extant. 
 
 Tt was not licensed for representation till the 9th 
 of May, 1632, — apparently from the known unwilling- 
 ness of the court to have persons of rank, like the 
 Duke of Ferrara, brought upon the stage in a light so 
 odious. At any rate, when the tardy permission was 
 granted, it was accompanied with a certificate that the 
 Duke was treated with the decorum "due to his 
 person " ; though, even w ith this assurance, it was 
 acted but once, notwithstanding it made a strong 
 
 " This play contains all the usual va- a sonnt-t, etc.; but esppcially, in the 
 rieties of measure, — redondillas, terccUis, first act, a silva of beautiful fluency.
 
 Chap. XVI. 
 
 THE CASTIGO SIN VP:NGAN/A. 
 
 269 
 
 Impression nt the time, and was hroiiulit out by the eoni- 
 pany of Figueroa, the most suecessfiil of the period, — 
 Arias, whose acting Montalvan praises highly, taking 
 the part of the son.^'^ In 1684, Lope printed it, with 
 more than connnon cai'e, at Barcekma, dedicating it 
 to his great patron, the Duke of Sessa, among " the 
 servants of whose house," he says, "he was inscribed"; 
 and the next year, immediately after his deajth, it 
 appeared again, without the Dedication, in the twenty- 
 first volume of his plays, prepared anew by himself 
 for the pi-es8, but })u])li8hed by his daughter Feli- 
 Clan a. "^ 
 
 *Like "Punishment, not Vengeance," several * 229 
 other dramas of its class are imbued with the 
 deepest spirit of tragedy. " The Knights Command- 
 
 1^ Gayaugo.s says, that the reason the 
 representation was stopped was from a 
 supposed allusion in the story to the 
 case of Don Carlos. I do not know on 
 what ground he says it, and it does not 
 seem probable. 
 
 1^ I i>ossess the original MS., entire- 
 ly in LopS'.s handwriting, with many 
 alterations, corrections, and interlinea- 
 tions by himself. It is prepared for the 
 actors, and has the license for repre- 
 senting it by Pedro de Vargas Machuca, 
 a poet himself, and Lope's friend, who 
 was 'much employed to license plays for 
 the theatre. He also figui'ed at the 
 "Justas Poeticas " of San Isidro, pub- 
 lished by Lope in 1620 and 1622 ; and 
 in the " Justa " in honor of the Virgen 
 del Pilar, published by Caceres in 1629 ; 
 in neither of which, however, do his 
 poems give ])roof of much talent, though 
 there is no doubt of his popularity with 
 his contemj)oraries. (Alvarez y Baena, 
 Hijos de Madrid, Tom. IV. p. 199.) 
 He claimed to be descended from the 
 Diego Perez de Vargas of the Ballads 
 and Chronicles, who, having lost his 
 arms of offence at the battle of Xerez 
 in the time of St. Ferdinand, tore off 
 the branch of an olive-tree, and so be- 
 labored the Moors with it that he re- 
 ceived the sohriqn.cf of " Machuca," or 
 (he Pniniiler. (Aliiiela Vnlcrio <le las 
 
 Hj'storias Escolasticas, Toledo, 1541, f. 
 15, a. — Lope de Vega, Laurel de Apolo, 
 1630, f. 75.) At the top of each page 
 in the MS. of Lope de Vega is a cross 
 with the names or ciphers of " Je.sus, 
 Maria, Josephus, Christus " ; and at the 
 end, " Laus Deo et Mariie Virgini," 
 with the date of its conii)letion and the 
 signature of the author. Whether Lope 
 tliought it possible to., consecrate the 
 gross immoralities of such a di'ama by 
 religious symbols, I do not know ; but 
 if he did, it would not be inconsistent 
 with his character or the spirit of his 
 time. A cross was commonly put at 
 the top of Spanish letters, — a practice 
 alluded to in Lope's " Perro del Horte- 
 lano," (Jornada II.,) and one that must 
 have led often to similar incongruities. 
 But this seems to have been discontin- 
 ued at the end of the eighteenth cen- 
 tury. At least, in a drama acted then, 
 where reforms in the beginning of MSS. 
 are proposed, one asks, whether any- 
 thing is to be done with the cross. To 
 which the other answers : — - 
 
 Esa esti ja reformada ; 
 Porque si uno escribe al diablo 
 No se espante de la carta. 
 
 Juzgado Ca.sero, 1786, p. 152. 
 
 Nay, this has been refoniie<l already, 
 Jjest, when w(^ send the Devil a letter, 
 He sliould be fiiu'hted when lie opens it.
 
 -70 THE ESTliELLA DE SEVILLA. [rKiuuD II. 
 
 ers of Cordova " is an instance in point.^^ It is a 
 parallel to the story of ^Egisthus and Clyteinnestra in 
 its horrors ; but the husband, instead of meeting the 
 fate of Agamemnon, puts to death, not only his guilty 
 Avife, but all his servants and every living thing in 
 his household, to satisfy his savage sense of honor. 
 Poetry is abundant in many of its scenes. l)ut the 
 atrocities of the rest will hardly permit it to be per- 
 ceived. 
 
 "The Star of Seville," on the other hand, though 
 much more trulv tragic, is liable to no such objection.^^ 
 In some respects it resembles Corneille's "^ Cid." At 
 
 the command of his king, and from the truest 
 - 230 . * Castilian loyalty, a knight of Seville kills his 
 
 friend, a brother of the lady whom he is about 
 to marry. The king afterwards endeavors to hold him 
 harmless for the crime; but the royal judges refuse to 
 interrupt the course of the law in his fovor. and the 
 brave knight is saved from death only by the plenary 
 confession of his guilty sovereign. It is one of the 
 
 very small number of Lope's pieces that have no comic 
 
 • 
 
 1* Comedias, Tom. II. Madrid, 1609. ami to whom I am indebted for my fii'st 
 Thrice at least, — viz. in this play, in knowledge of it. Tiie same ])lay is well 
 his "Fuente Ovejuna," and in hLs known on the modern Spanish stage, 
 " Peribanez," — Lope has shown us and has been reprinted, both at Madrid 
 commanders of the gi-eat military orders and London, with large alterations, 
 of his country in very otlious colors, under the title of " Sancho Ortiz de las 
 representing them as men of the most Roelas." An excellent abstract of it, 
 fierce jtride and the gros.sest passions, in its original state, and faithful trans- 
 like the Front-de-B(X'uf of Ivanhoe. lations of parts of it, are to be found in 
 
 ^^ Old copies of this ]day are e.xces- Lord Holland's Life of Lope (Vol. I. 
 sively scarce, an<l I obtained, therefore, pp. Loo - 200^ ; out of which, and not 
 many years ago, a manuscript of it, out of the Si)anish original. Baron 
 from which it was reprinted twice in Zedlitz composed "Der Stem von Se- 
 this country by Mr. F. Sales, in his villa " ; a play by no means without 
 " Obras Maestras Dramaticas " (Boston, merit, which was printed at Stuttgard 
 LS28 and 1840) ; the last time with cor- in 1830, an<l has been often acted in 
 lections, kindly furnished by Don A. different jiarts of Germany. The locali- 
 Duran, of Madrid; — a curious fact in ties referred to in the " Estrella de 
 Spanish bibliograjihy, and one that Sevilla," including the house of Bustos 
 should be mentioned to the honor of Tabera, the lover of E.strella, are still 
 Mr. Sales, whose various pul)lications shown at Seville. Latour, Etuiles sur 
 liave done much to .s])read the love of I'Espagne, Paris, 1855, Tom. II. p. ^>2, 
 Spanisli literature in the United States, etc.
 
 ♦LIIA1-. XVI. J VARIOUS IILSTOKICAL DRAMAS. 271 
 
 and (listnicting iiiiderplot, and Is to be placed among 
 the lol'tiest of his efforts. Not a few of its scenes are 
 admirable; especially that in which the king urges the 
 knight to kill his friend ; that in which the lovely and 
 innocent creature whom the knight is about to marry 
 receives, in the midst of the frank and delightful ex- 
 pressions of her happiness, the dead body of her 
 brother, wlio has been slain by her lover ; and that in 
 which the Alcaldes solemnly refuse to wrest the law 
 in obedience to the royal commands. The conclusion 
 is better than that in the tragedy of Corneille. The 
 lady abandons the world and retires to a convent. 
 
 Of the great number of Lope's heroic dramas on 
 national subjects, a few may be noticed, in order to in- 
 dicate the direction he gave to this division of his the- 
 atre. One, for instance, is on the story of Bamba, 
 taken from the plough to be made king of Spain ;^" 
 ^nd another, "The Last Goth," is on the popular tradi- 
 tions of the loss of Spain by Roderic ; ^' — the first be- 
 ing among the earliest of his published plays,^^ and the 
 last not published till twelve years after his 
 death, but both * written in one spirit and upon * 231 
 the same system. On the attractive subject of 
 Bernardo del Carpio he has several dramas. One is 
 called "The Youthful Adventures of Bernardo," and 
 relates his exploits down to the time when he discov- 
 ered the secret of his birth. Another, called " Achieve- 
 ments of Bernardo del Carpio," I have never seen, but 
 it is among the plays Lord Holland had read. And a 
 third, " Marriage in Death," involves the misconduct of 
 
 1" Coiiit'dias, Toia. I., Valladolid. i'^ C'omedias, Tom. XXV., Qavagoca, 
 
 \tiOi, tf. 91, etc., in wliicli Lope has 1647, ff. 369, etc. It i.s called " Tragi- 
 
 ^visely followed the old monkish tradi- comedia." 
 
 tions, rather than either tlu^ " Oronica i** The first edition of the first volume 
 
 deneral," (Parte II. c. .51,) oi' th" yA of Lope's plays is that of Valladolid, 
 
 more sobered account of Mariana (Hist., 1604. See Brunet, etc. 
 Lib. VI. e. 12).
 
 VARIOUS IIISTOKICAL DILVMAS. 
 
 [I'KKIOD IK 
 
 Kino; Alfonso, and the heart-rendino; scene in wliieli 
 the dead body of Bernardo's father is delivered to the 
 hero, "who has sacrificed evervthino- to filial piety, and 
 now finds himself crushed and ruined by it.^^ The 
 seven Infantes of Lara ai'c not passed over, as Ave see 
 both in the play that bears their name, and in the 
 more striking one on the stor}^ of Mudarra, " El Bas- 
 tard© Mudarra."-*^ Indeed, it seems as if no available 
 ])oint in tlie national annals were missed b\^ Lope ; "^ 
 and that, after brino-inti' on the stay^e the g-reat events 
 in S])anish history and tradition consecutively down ta 
 his own times, he looks round on all sides for subjects, 
 at home and abroad, taking one from the usurpation 
 of Boris Gudimow at Moscow, in IGOG." another from 
 the conquest of Arauco, in 1560,-'^ and another from 
 the great league that ended with the battle of Lepanta 
 in 1-571 ; in which last, to avoid the awkwardness of a 
 .sea-fight on the stage, he is guilty of introducing 
 * 232 the greater awkwardness of an allegorical * fig- 
 ure of Spain describing the battle to the au- 
 dience in Madrid, at the very moment when it is sup- 
 posed to be going on near the shores of Greece.^ 
 
 '^ The first two of tbt-se plays, wliich 
 are not to be; found in tlic collected dra- 
 matic works of Lope, have often been 
 jmnted separatelj' ; but the last occurs, 
 I believe, only in the first volume of the 
 Comedias, (Valladolid, 1004, f. i>8,) and 
 in the repiints of it. It makes free 
 use of the old ballads of Duraudarte 
 and Belerma. 
 
 ^' The "Siete Infantes de Lara" is 
 in the Comedias, Tom. V., Madrid, 
 161'), and the " liastardo MudaiTa " is 
 in Tom. XXIV., Zaragoza, 1641. 
 
 2' Thus, the attractive story of " E\ 
 Mejor Alcalde el Rev " is. as he liimself 
 tells us at the conclusion, taken from 
 the fourth part of the "Cninica Gen- 
 eral." 
 
 *^ " El Gran Du(|ue de iluscovia," 
 Comedia.s, Tom. VII., Madrid, 1617. 
 
 ^ "Arauco Doniaib)," Comedias, 
 Tom. XX., Madrid, 162lt. The scene 
 
 is laid about 1560 ; but tbe play is in- 
 tended as a compliment to the living 
 sou of the con(pieror. In the Dedica- 
 tion to him, Lojjc asserts it to be a true 
 history ; but there is, of cour.se, much 
 invention mingled with it, especially in 
 the parts that do honor to the Span- 
 iards. Among its personages is the au- 
 tlior of the " Araucana," Alonso de 
 Ercilla, who comes upon the stage beat- 
 ing a dnim ! Another and earlier play 
 of Lope may be compared with tin- 
 "Arauco"; I mean "Los (iuanche.>> 
 de Tenerife" (Comedia.s, Tom. X., Ma- 
 lirid, 1620, f. 128). It is on the simi- 
 lar subject of the conquest of the Ca- 
 nary Islands, in the time of Ferdinand 
 and I.sabella, and, as in the " Ai-auco 
 Domado," the natives occupy much of 
 the canvas. 
 
 -* " La Santa Liga," Comedia.s, Tom. 
 XV., Madrid, 1621.
 
 «iiAi'. XVl.J \Ai;i()LS IIISTOKICAL DUAMAS. Z / o 
 
 The whole class of those heroic and historical dra- 
 mas, it should ))e reiiieiidjered, makes little claim to 
 historical accuracy. A love story, filled as usual with 
 hairbreadth escapes, jealous quarrels, and ([uestions of 
 honor, runs through nearly every one oi' them ; and 
 though, in some cases, we may trust to the facts set 
 before us, as we must in " The Valiant Cespedes," 
 where the poet gravely declares that all except the 
 love adventures are strictly true,^^ still in no case 
 I'aii it be pretended, that the manners of an earlier 
 age, or of foreign nations, are respected, or that the 
 general coloring of the representation is to be regarded 
 as faithful. Thus, in one play, we see Nero hurrying 
 about the streets of Rome, like a Spanish gallant, with 
 a guitar on his arm, and making love to his mistress 
 at her grated window."'' In another, Belisarius, in the 
 days of his glory, is selected to act the part of Pj'ra- 
 mus in an interlude before the Emperor Justinian, 
 much as if he belongetl to Nick Bottom's company, and 
 afterwards has his eyes put out, on a charge of mak- 
 ing love to the Empress.^" And in yet a third, Cyrus 
 the Great, after he is seated on his throne, marries 
 
 25 "El Valieiite Cespedes," Comedias, Montalvan, both he and Lope being 
 
 Tom. XX., Madrid, 1(329. This notice then alive. And, after all, it turns out 
 
 is specially given to the reader by Lope, to belong to neither of them, for Von 
 
 out of tenderness to the rejnitation of Schack found, in the Duke of Ossuna's 
 
 Doha Maria de Cespedes, who does not admirable collection at Madrid, this 
 
 appear in the play with all the dig- very play in the handwriting of Mira 
 
 nity which those who, in Lope's time, de Mescua, and signed by hini as its 
 
 claimed to be descended from her might author. What renders the aifair more 
 
 c'Xact at his hands. odd is, that there is, with the autograph 
 
 ^ In "Roma Abrasada," Acto II. f. play, the autograph aprovacionoi Lojie, 
 
 89, already noticed, ante, p. 219. containing a graceful compliment to 
 
 27 Jornada II. of " Exemplo Mayor Mira de Mescua as the authoi', and 
 
 de la Desdicha, y Capitan Belisario"; dated July, 1625. (Xachtrage, 18.54, 
 
 not in the collection of Lope's plays, 8vo, p. 57. ) I leave both te.xt and 
 
 and though often jirinted separately as note, published several years before the 
 
 his, and inserted as such on Lord Hoi- date of this discovery, as they were origi- 
 
 land's list, it is published in the old nally printed, because they afford such 
 
 and curious collection entitled "Come- amusing proof of a recklessness not uii- 
 
 ^lias de Diferentes Autore.s," (4to, Tom. common among the i)ublishers of Span- 
 
 XXV., Zaragoza, 1633,) as the work of ish dramas in the seventeenth century, 
 vol,, ir. 18
 
 274 VAKIOUS lllSTUiacAL DRAMAS. [Pkkiud il. 
 
 *233 a sliepherdes!^.-'^ But there * is no end to such 
 absurdities in Lo})e"s phiys ; and the explana- 
 tion of them all is. that they were not felt to be sueh 
 at the time. Truth and failhfulness in regard to the 
 facts, manners, and eostunic of a drama were not sup- 
 posed to be more important, in the age of Lope, than 
 an observation of the unities; — not more important 
 than they were supposed to be a century later, in 
 France, in the unending romances of Caljorenede and 
 Scudery : — not more important than they are deemed 
 in an Italian opera now: — so profound is the thought 
 of the o-reatest of all the masters of the historical dra- 
 ma. that "the best in this kind are but shadows, and 
 the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them." 
 
 •^ "Contra Valor uo hay Desdiclia." in consequence of his grandfather's 
 
 Like the last, it has been often re- dream, and ends with a battle and his 
 
 ])rinted. It begins with the romantic victory over Astyages and all his ene- 
 
 account of Cyrus's exjiosure to death, mies.
 
 * C H A P T E R X A^ 1 1 . * 234 
 
 LOPE BE VEGA, CONTINUED. DRAMAS THAT AKK EOtTXDED ON THE MANNERS 
 
 OF COMMON LIFE. THE WISE MAN AT HOME. Till; DAMSEL THEODOKA. 
 
 CAPTIVES IN ALGIERS. INFLUENCE OF THE ClllltCII ON THE DRAMA. 
 
 lope's plays FROM SCRIPTURE. THE BIRTH OF (IIlilST. THE CREA- 
 TION OF THE WORLD. LOPE's PLAYS ON THE LIVES OF SAINTS. SAINT 
 
 ISIDORE OF MADRID. LOPE's SACRAMENTAL AUTOS FOR THE FESTIVAL 
 
 OF THE CORPUS CIIRISTI. TllEIU PROLOGUES. THEIR INTERLUDES. 
 
 THE AUTOS THEMSELVES. 
 
 The liistoi'ical drama of Lope was but a deviation 
 from the more truly national type of the "• Comedia de 
 Capa y Espada," made by the introduction of historical 
 names for its leading personages, instead of those that 
 belong to fashionable and knightly life. This, how- 
 ever, was not the oidy deviation he made.^ He went 
 sometimes quite as far on the other side, and created a 
 variety or subdivision of the theatre, founded on common 
 life, in which the chief personages, like those of "The 
 Watermaid," and "The Slave of her Lover," belong to 
 the lower classes of society.^ Of such dramas, he has 
 left only a few, but these few are interesting. 
 
 * Perhaps the best specimen of them is " The * 235 
 Wise Man at Home," in which the hero, if he 
 
 1 We occasionally meet with the '^ "La Moza de Cantaro'' and "La 
 
 jjhrase comedias de ruidu ; but it does Eselava de su Galan " have continued to 
 
 not mean a class of plays separated from be favorites down to our own times, 
 
 the others by different rules of composi- The first was printed at London, not 
 
 tion. It refers to the machinery used in many years ago, and the last at Paris, 
 
 their exhibition ; so that comedias de in Ochoa's collection, 1838, 8vo, and at 
 
 capa y espada, -And esYie(Adi\\YcomedAasde Bielefeld, in that of Schiitz, 1840, 8vo. 
 santm, whicli often demanded a large ap- Lope sometimes went verj' low down, 
 
 paratus, were not unfrequently comedias among courtesans and rogues, for the 
 
 de ruido, otherwise called comedias dc subjects of his plays; as in the "An- 
 
 caso or comedias de fabrica. In the zuelo de Fenisa," (the story of which, I 
 
 same way comedias de apariencias were su])pose, he took from the Decameron, 
 
 plays demanding much scenery and Vlllth day, 10th tale,) " El Rufian Di- 
 
 scene-shifting. choso," and some others.
 
 270 DKAMAS ON COMMON LIFE. [I'l.inni, II. 
 
 may be so called, is Meiido, the son of a poc.r eliareoal- 
 biirner."^ He has married the only child of a respect- 
 able fai'iiier, and is in an easy condition of life, with 
 the road to advancement, at least in a gay course, 
 open before him. But he prefers to remain where he 
 is. He refuses the solicitations of a nei«:hborini>: law- 
 yer or clerk, engaged in public affairs, who would have 
 the honest Mendo take upon himself the airs of an 
 hidalgo and cahallero. Especiall}^ upon what was then 
 the great point in private life, — his relations with his 
 pretty wife, — he shows his uniform good sense, Avhile 
 his more ambitious friend falls into serious embarrass- 
 ments, and is obliged at last to come to him for coun- 
 sel and heljD. 
 
 The doctrine of the piece is well explained in the 
 following reply of Mendo to his friend, who had 
 been urging him to lead a more showy life, and raise 
 the external circumstances of his father. 
 
 He that was born to live in Immble state 
 
 Makes but an. awkward knight, do what yon will. 
 
 M)' father means to die as he has lived, 
 
 The same plain collier that he always was ; 
 
 And I, too, mnst an honest ploughman die. 
 
 'T is but a single step, or up or down ; 
 
 For men there must be that will plough and dig, 
 
 And, when the vase has once been filled, be sure 
 
 'T will always savor of what first it held.* 
 
 The story is less important than it is in many of 
 Lope's dramas ; but the sketches of common life are 
 
 3 Comedias, Tom. Y\., Ma-lrid, ]r)1.5, * Kl q"" naoio para humilde 
 101, ete. It may be worth not ce, Mi padre quk-r,. morir, 
 
 that the fharaeterol Mendo .; like that Ixsonardo, como nacio. 
 
 of Camaeho in the Second i^irt of Don Carbonero im- enpendro ; 
 
 Qui-xote, whi.-h was first piiuted in the Labnidor quiero n.orir 
 same year, lbl.5. 1 he resemblance be- Ava quieii are y quicn caue. 
 
 tween the two, however, is not very Siemiire cl vaso al licor sr.be. 
 strong, and perhaps is wholly acciden- Comedias, Tom. VI., Madrid, 1615, f. 117. 
 tal, although Lope was not careful to 
 make acknowledgments.
 
 Chap. XVII.] 
 
 THE DONZELLA TEODOK. 
 
 t i 
 
 sometimes spirited, like the one in which Mendo de- 
 scribes his first siglit of his future wife, busied 
 in household work, and * the elaborate scene * 236 
 where his first child is christened.^ The char- 
 acters, on the other hand, are better defined and 
 drawn than is common with him ; and that of the 
 plain, practically wise Mendo is sustained, from begin- 
 ning to end, with consistency and skill, as well as with 
 good dramatic effect.^ 
 
 Another of these more domestic pieces is called 
 "^^ The Damsel Theodora," and shows how gladly and 
 with what ingenuity Lope seized on the stories current 
 in his time and turned them to dramatic account. 
 The tale he now used, which jjears the same title with 
 the play, and is extremely simple in its structure, is 
 claimed to have been written by an Aragonese, of 
 whom we know only that his name was Alfonso.^ The 
 damsel Theodora, in this original fiction, is a slave in 
 Tunis, and belongs to a Hungarian merchant living 
 
 * There is in these passages some- 
 thing of the euphuistical style then in 
 favor, under the name of the estilo culto, 
 with which Lope sometimes humored 
 the more fashionable portions of his 
 <iudience, though on other occasions 
 he bore a decided testimony against 
 it. 
 
 ^ This play, I think, gave the hint 
 to Calderon for his ' ' Alcalde de Zala- 
 mea," in which the character of Pedro 
 Crespo, the peasant, is drawn with more 
 than his accustomed distinctness. It 
 is the last piece in the common collec- 
 tion of Calderon's Comedias, and nearly 
 all its characters are happily touched. 
 
 "^ This is among the more cuiious of 
 the old j)opular Spanish tales. N. An- 
 tonio (Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. 9) assigns 
 no age to its author, and no date to the 
 published story. Denis, in his "Chro- 
 niques de I'Espagne," etc., (Paris, 1839, 
 8vo, Tom. I. p. 285,) gives no addi- 
 tional light, but, in one of his notes, 
 treats its ideas on natural history as 
 those of the moi/rji. d(jc. It seems, how- 
 ever, from internal evidence, to have 
 
 been conipcsed after the fall of Granada. 
 Gayangos gives editions of the " Don- 
 zella Teodor" in 1537 and 1540, and 
 mentions an Arabic version of it, which 
 leads him to the conjecture that the 
 Aragonese, Alfonso, to whom Antonio 
 attributes the story, is no other than 
 the converted Jew, Pedro Alfon.so, who 
 in the twelfth century wrote the ' ' Dis- 
 ciplina Clericalis." (See rnite, Vol. I. 
 pp. 63, 64, note, and the Spanish trans- 
 lation of this History, Tom. II. pp. 
 353-357.) But I cannot think it is 
 older than the time of Charles V. ; 
 probably not older than the capture of 
 Tunis, in 1535. The copy I use is of 
 1726, showing that it was in favor in 
 the eighteenth century ; and I possess 
 another printed for popular circuhition 
 about 1845. We find early allusions to 
 the Donzella Teodor, as a well-known 
 personage ; for example, in " The Mod- 
 est Man at Court " of Tirso de Molina, 
 where one of the characters, speaking 
 of a lady he admires, cri(!s out, "Que 
 Donzella Teodor ! " < 'igarrales de To- 
 ledo, Madrid, 1624, 4to, p. 158.
 
 278 THE CAUTIVOS DE AliGEL. [Period 1L 
 
 there, who has k).st his whole fortune. At her sugges- 
 tion, she is offered by her master to the king of Tunis, 
 who is so much struck with her beauty and with the 
 amount of her knowdedge, that he purchases her at 
 a price which re-estabhshes her master's condition. 
 The point of the whole consists in the exhibition 
 
 of this knowledge through discussions with 
 *237 * learned men; l)ut the subjects are most of 
 
 them of the commonest kind, and the merit 
 of the story is quite inconsideral)le. — less, for in- 
 stance, than that of '- Friar Bacon, " in English, to 
 which, in several respects, it may be compared. ^ 
 
 But Lope knew his audiences, and succeeded in 
 adapting this old tale to their taste. The damsel The- 
 odora, as he arranges her character for the stage, is 
 the daughter of a professor at Toledo, and is educated 
 in all the learning of her fathers schools. She, how- 
 ever, is not raised by it above tlie influences of the 
 tender passion, and, running away with her lover, is 
 captured by a vessel from the coast of Barbary, and 
 carried as a slave successively to Oran, to Constantino- 
 ple, and finally to Persia, where she is sold to the 
 Sultan for an inuncnse sum on account of her rare 
 knowledge, displayed in the last act of the i)lay much 
 as it is in the original tale of Alfonso, and sometimes 
 in the same words. But the love intrigue, with a 
 multitude of jealous troubles and adventures, runs 
 through the whole ; and as the Sultan is made to 
 understand at last the relations of all the parties, who 
 are strangely assembled before him, he gives the price 
 
 * The y>oj)ular English story of " F" IV- in ir)94. Botli may he considered as 
 
 f-r liaeon " hardly {i<»-s hack fiirthei- luiiiiinf; ])arallel with the stor}' and 
 
 than to the end of the sixteenth c-i-n- play of tlie "I)onzi"lla Teodor," so as 
 
 tury, tliough some of its materials may to he read with advantage when eom- 
 
 he traced to the '* Oesta Homanonim." paring the Spanish drama with the 
 
 Robert Greene's play on it wa^s printed English.
 
 Chap. XVII.] THE CAUTIVOS DE AKGEL. 279 
 
 of the damsel as her dower, and marries her to the 
 lover with whom she originally fled from Toledo. 
 The principal jest, both in the drama and the story, is, 
 that a learned doctor, who is defeated by Theodora in 
 a pnblic trial of wits, is hoimd by the terms of the 
 contest to be stri})ped naked, and buys off his ignominy 
 with a snm which goes still further to increase the 
 lady's fortune and the content of her husband.'' 
 
 The last of Lope's plays to be noticed among those 
 whose subjects are drawn from common life is a more 
 direct appeal, perhaps, than any other of its class to 
 the popular feeling. It is his ^' Captives in Algiers," ^** 
 and has been already alluded to as partly bor- 
 rowed or pilfered * from a play . of Cervantes. * 238 
 In its first scenes, a Morisco of Valencia leaves 
 the land where his race had suffered so cruelly, and^ 
 after establishing himself among those of his own faith 
 in Algiers, returns by night as a corsair, and, from his 
 familiar knowledge of the Spanish coast, where he was 
 born, easily succeeds in carrying off a numbei- of 
 Christian captives. The fate of these victims, ancT that 
 of others whom they find in Algiers, including a lover 
 and his mistress, form the subject of the drama. In the 
 course of it, we have scenes in which Christian Spaniards 
 are publicly sold in the slave-market ; Christian chil- 
 dren torn from their parents and cajoled out of their 
 faith ; " and a Christian gentleman made to suffer the 
 most dreadful forms of martyrdom for his religion ; — in 
 short, we have set before us whatever could most pttin- 
 fully and powerfully excite the interest and s^nipathy 
 of an audience in Spain at a moment when such multi- 
 
 ^ Comedias, Tom. IX., Barcelona, " Tliese passages are nuH'li indebted 
 
 1618, ft'. 27, etc. to the "Trato de Aigel " of Ceivan- 
 
 1" Comedias, Tom. XXV., raiiigo(,'a, tes. 
 1647, tr. 281, etc.
 
 -280 THE CAUTIVOS DE ARGEL. [Peuiud II. 
 
 tildes of Spanish families were mourning the captivity 
 of their children and friends.^- It ends with an ac- 
 count of a play to be acted by the Christian slaves in 
 one of their vast prison-houses, to celebrate the recent 
 marriage of Philip the Third ; from which, as well as 
 from a reference to the magnificent festivities that 
 followed it at Denia, in which Loj)e, as we know, took 
 part, we may be sure that the '• Cautivos de Argel " 
 was written as late as 1508, and prol)al)ly not much 
 later.^^^ 
 
 A love-story unites its rather incongruous materials 
 into something like a connected whole ; but the part 
 we read with the most interest is that assigned to 
 - Cervantes, who appears under his family name 
 * 239 of Saavedra, without * disguise, though without 
 any mark of respect." Considering that Lope 
 took from him some of the best materials for this very 
 piece, and that the sufferings and heroism of Cervantes 
 at Algiers must necessarily have been present to his 
 thoughts when he composed it, we can hardh' do the 
 popular poet any injustice by adding, that he ought 
 either to have given Cervantes a more dignified part, 
 and alluded to him with tenderness and consideration, 
 or else have refrained from introducing him at all. 
 
 '2 See, pfiimm, Hacilo, " Historia de Matos Fi-agoso, and, in a note, tliat of 
 
 Argel" (Madrid, 1612, folio). He reck- the "Azote de su Patria," by Moreto. 
 
 OTIS the number of C-hri.stian cai)tive.s, Cervantes, speaking as the eaptive in 
 
 'diietiy Spaniards, in Algiei-s, at twenty- Don Qui.vote, says that tliese renegadoes 
 
 five thousand. could run over from Tetuan in the night. 
 
 There aif; freijuent intimations in and, after a successful fomy, return so 
 
 8pani.sh plays of the return of renega- as to sleep at home, 
 does from Barbarj- to such jioitions of i' Lope, Obras Sueltas, Tom. III. p. 
 
 the coasts of their native land a.s were 377. I am much dispo.sed to think the 
 
 most familiar to tliem, for the pur[>ose ]ilay referred to as acted in the piisons 
 
 ■of carrying Christians into captivity ; of .\lgiers is Loj>e's own moral |ilay of 
 
 and Lope de Vegji, in his " I'eregiino the " Mariiage of the Soul to Divine 
 
 en su Patria," Libro II., describes a Love," in the second book of the " Pere- 
 
 ■particular sj>ot on the shores of Valen- grino en su Patiia." 
 cia, where such violences had often oc- ** The pass;iges in which Cervantes 
 
 curred. No doubt they were common. occui's are on If. 245, 2.'il, and csjk;- 
 
 .See further the account, ;>'<.•!/, in Chapter cially 262 and 277, Coinedias, Tom. 
 
 ^XV., of the " Redeiitor t^autivo" of XXV.
 
 Chap. XVII.] KELKUOUS DHAMAS. 281 
 
 The tliree forms of Lope's dmma wliich have thus 
 far been considered, and whicli are nearly jd^in to each 
 other.^'* were, no doubt, the spontaneous productions 
 of his own genius ; modified, indeed, by what he found 
 already existing, and by the taste and will of the audi- 
 ences for whicli he wrote, but still essentially his owu. 
 Probably, if he had been left to himself and to the 
 mere influences of the theatre, he would have ]ireferred 
 to write no other dramas than such as would naturally 
 come under on^ of these divisions. But neither he nor 
 his audiences w^ere permitted to settle the whole of this 
 question. The Church, always powerful in Spain, but 
 never so powerful as during the latter part of the reign 
 of Philip the Second, when Lope was just rising into 
 notice, was offended with the dramas then so much in 
 favor, and not without reason. Their free love-stories, 
 their duels, and, indeed, their ideas generally upon 
 domestic hfe and personal character, have, unques- 
 tionably, anything but a Christian tone.^'' A contro- 
 ls The fusion of the tliree classes may History, by .Tovellaiios, — a personages 
 1>e seen at a glance in Lope's line play, who will bt; noticed when we reach the 
 " El Mejor Alcalde el Key," (Comedias, period dining which he lived. 
 Tom. XXI., Madrid, 1635,) founded on "As for myself," says that wise an(T 
 
 a passage in the fourth part of the faithi'ul niagistiate, " I am persuaded 
 "General Chronicle" (ed. 1604, f. 327). there can be foun<l no proof so decisive 
 The hero and heroine belong to the of the di-gradation of our taste as the- 
 condition of peasants ; the i)erson who cool indifference with whicdi we tolerate 
 makes the mischief is their liege lord ; the r(!presentation of dramas, in whicli 
 and, from the end of the second act, modesty, the gentler affections, good 
 the king and one or two of the princi- faith, decency, and all the virtues and 
 pal persons about the court play lead- principles belonging to a sound mo- 
 ing parts. On the whole, it ranks vality, are openly trampled under foot, 
 technically with the co/aedias hcroic/is Do men believe that the innocence of 
 or historkiks ; and yet the best and childhood and the fervor of youth, that 
 most important scenes are those re- an idle and dainty nobility and an ig- 
 lating to common life, while others of norant ])opulace, can witness without 
 no little consequence belong to the class injury such exam))les of effrontery and 
 of capa y espada. gi-ossness, of an insolent and absurct 
 
 1*^ How the Spanish theatre, as it ex- affectation of honor, of contempt of 
 isted in the time of Philip IV., ouglit justice and the laws, and of ]niblic and 
 to have been regarded, may be judged jirivate duty, rc])rcs('nted on the .stage 
 by the following remarks on such of its in the most lively colors, and rendered 
 jdays as continued to be represented at attractive by th(! enchantment of .sceni(-^ 
 t-lie end of the eighteenth century, read illusiocs and the graces of music and 
 in 1796 to the Spanish Academy of verse'! Let us, then, honestly c<jnfess
 
 2S2 
 
 KELIGIOUS DRAMAS. 
 
 [I'KIKUI. II. 
 
 *240 versv, therefore, *iiaturall\- arose coneeriiiiiu- 
 their hiwl'uhiess, and this controversy- was con- 
 tinued till 1598, when, In a royal decree, the represen- 
 tation of secular i)lays in Madrid was entii'elj forbid- 
 den, and the connnon theatres weie closed for nearly 
 tM'o 3'ears.^' 
 
 Lope was compelled to accommodate himself to this 
 new state of tilings, and seems to have done it easily 
 and with his accustomed address. He had, as we have 
 seen, early wi-itten religious plcu/,^, like the old Myste- 
 ries and Moralities ; and he now undertook to infuse 
 their spirit into the more attractive forms of his 
 *241 * secular drama, and thus produce an entertain- 
 • ment which, while it might satisty the popular 
 
 the triitli. Sucli a theatre is a jnihlit; 
 miisaiice, and the govenmient has no 
 ju.st alternative, but to reform it or 
 suppress it altogether." Meniorias de 
 la Acad., Tom. V. p. ?97. 
 
 Elsewhere, in the .same excellent dis- 
 couise, its autlior shows that he was 
 by no means insensible to the poetical 
 merits of the old theatre, who.se moral 
 itiHuenccs he deprecated. 
 
 "I shall always be the first," he .says, 
 "to confess its inimitable beauties ; the 
 freshness of its inventions, the charm 
 of its style, the flowing natuiulness of 
 its dialogue, the marvellous ingenuity 
 of its pl(jts, the ease with wiiicli every- 
 thing is at last exjiiained and adjusted ; 
 the briliant interest, the humor, the 
 wit, that mark every ste|) as we ad- 
 vance ; — but what matters all this, if 
 thi.s same drama, regarded in the light 
 of truth and wisdom, is infected with 
 vices and corruptions that can be toler- 
 ated neithe)- by a sound state of morals 
 nor by a wise jtublic poiii'v'" Ibid., 
 p. 413. 
 
 " V. Pellicei-. Ori'gcn d.d Teatro, 
 Madrid, 1804, 12mo, Tom. I. pp. 142- 
 148. Plays were i)roliihited in Barce- 
 lona in l.-)91 by the bishop; but the 
 proiiiliition was not long respected, and 
 in 1;')97 was renewed with increased 
 eaniestiie.s.s. Hisbe y Vidal, Tiatado de 
 la.s (.'omedias, liaicelona, lfil8. 12mo, 
 f. 94; — u curious book, attacking the 
 
 Spanish theatre with more dLscietion 
 than any other old t)eatise again.st it 
 that I have lead, but not with much 
 etl'ect. Its autlior would have all plays 
 carefully examined and expurgated be- 
 fore they were licensed, and then would 
 permit them to be performed, not by 
 Iirofessional actors, but by ]ier.soiis lie- 
 longing to the place where the repre- 
 sentation was to occur, and known as 
 i-espectable men and decent youths ; 
 for, he adds, "when this was done for 
 hundreds of years, none of those strange 
 vi(;es were committed that are the con- 
 sequence of our ])resent modes." (f. 
 106.) Bisbe y Vidal is a pseudonynie 
 for Juan Kerrer, the head of a large 
 congregation of devout men at Barce- 
 lona, and a per.son who was so much 
 .scandalized at the state of the theatre 
 in his time, that he ]iul)]islied this at- 
 tack on it for the beiietit of the broth- 
 erhood who.se s])iritual leader he was. 
 (ToiTcsyAiiiat, Biblioteca, Art. Ftnrr.) 
 It is encumbered with theological learn- 
 ing ; Init less so than other similar 
 works of the time, and runs into ab- 
 surdities worthy the bigotry of the agi; 
 and the ignoran(;e of the peoi)le ; as, 
 for instance, when it attributes to tlie 
 drama the introduction of heresy — el 
 mayor mal (pie a una re]iublica o reyno 
 le )>uede venir — ami the succe.ss of 
 Luther's doctrines in (^leiniany. Chaj). 
 XI. Ferrer was a Jesuit.
 
 Chap. XVII. ] THE NACIMIENTO DE ClIlll.STO. 28o 
 
 audieuce.s of the capital, would avoid the rebuke.s oi" 
 the Church. His success was as marked as it had 
 been before ; and tlie new varieties of form in whicli 
 his genius now disported itself v.ei-e scarcely less 
 striking. 
 
 His most obvious resource was the Scriptures, to 
 which, as they had been used more than four centuries 
 for dramatic purposes, on the greater religious festivals 
 of the Spanish Church, the ecclesiastical powers could 
 hardly, with a good grace, now make objection. Lope, 
 therefore, resorted to them freeh^ ; sometimes con- 
 structing dramas out of them which might be mistaken 
 for the old Mysteries, were it not for their more 
 poetical character, and their sometimes approaching so 
 near to his own intriguing comedies, that, but for the 
 religious parts, they might seem to belong to the 
 merely secular and fiishionable dheatre that had jusi 
 been interdicted. 
 
 Of the first, or more religious sort, his '" Birth of 
 Christ" maybe taken as a specimen.^^ It is divided 
 
 ^^ Coinedias, Tom. XXIV., Zaragoza, to Niiestro Senor." There are be.sides, 
 
 1641, ff. 110, etc. Such plays were in this volume, Xdcimicntos attributed 
 
 often acted at Christma.s, and went to Oubillo (f. 375) and Valdiviel.so (f. 
 
 under the name of Nacimientos ; — a 369). 
 
 relique of the old dramas mentioned in "Nacimientos" continued to be rep- 
 the "Partidas," and written in various resented chiefly in pantomime and in 
 forms after the time of Juan de la En- private hoxises through the eighteentli 
 zina and Gil Vicente. They seem, from century, and into the nineteenth. 1 
 hints in the " Viage " of Roxas, 1602, have a poetical tract, entitled " Disserm 
 and elsewhere, to have been acted in metrico en c^ue se manitiesta un Naci- 
 private houses, in the churches, on the miento con las figuras corresjjondientes 
 public stage, and in the streets, as they segun el estilo que se pratica en las 
 happened to be asked for. They were casas j^articulares de este corte, ec, j)or 
 not exactly autos, but very like them, D. Antonio Manuel de Cardenas, Conde 
 as may be seen from the " Nacimiento del Sacro Palacio," Madrid, 1766, 18mo. 
 de Christo" by Lope de Vega, (in a cu- It is in the ballad style, and describes 
 rious volume entitled " Navidad y Cor- minutelj- how they borrowed the Ma- 
 pus Chri-sti Festejados," Madrid, 1664, donna and child from a convent, the ox 
 4to, f. 346), — a drama quite diflerent from a neighboring village, etc. An- 
 from this one, though bearing the same other similar description, but in qnhi- 
 name; and (juite different from another tillas, is entitled " Liras a la Eepre- 
 Nacimiento dc Chrwto, in the same vol- sentacion del Drama, EI Nacimiento, 
 ume, (f. 93,) attributed to Lope, and IMcza inedita de 1). J. B. Colonies," 
 called "Auto del Nacimiento de Chris- Valencia, 1807, 18mo.
 
 284 THE XACIMIENTO UE CIllUSTO. [Pf.uiod II. 
 
 into tlirce acts, and Ijegins in Paradise, immediately 
 after the ereatioii. The first scene introduces Satan, 
 Pride, Beaiily. and Envy; — Satan a])pearing with 
 
 '" dragon's Aviny^s, a hiishv wiu'. and al)ove it a 
 * 242 serpent s * head "' ; and Envy carrying a heart 
 
 in her hand and weai'ing snakes in her hair. 
 After some discussion aljout the creation, Adam and 
 Eve approacli in the characters of King and Queen. 
 Innocence, who is the ch)wn and wit of the piece, and 
 Grace, who is dressed in white, come in at the same 
 time, and, while Satan and his friends are hidden in a 
 thicket, hold the following dialogue, which may be 
 regarded as characteristic, not only of this particular 
 drama., hut of tlie whole class to which it belongs: — 
 
 Adam. Here, LaJy Queen, upon tliis couelj of grass and flowers 
 
 Sit down. 
 Innocence. Well, tliat 's good, i' foith ; 
 
 He calls lier Lady Queen. 
 Grace. And don't you see 
 
 She is his Avife ; flesh of his flesh indeed, 
 
 And of his bone the bone ^ 
 Innocence. That 's just as if 
 
 You said. She, through his being, being hath. — 
 
 What dainty compliments they pay each other ! 
 Grace. Two persons are they, yet one flesh the}' are. 
 
 Innocence. And may their union last a thousand years, 
 
 And in sweet peace continue evermore ! 
 Grace. The king his father and his mother leaves 
 
 For his fair queen. 
 Innocence. And leaves not overmuch, 
 
 Since no man yet has been with parents born. 
 
 But, in good faith, good master Adam, 
 
 All fine as you go on, pranked out by Grace, 
 
 I feel no little trouble at your course, 
 
 Likp that of other princes made of clay. 
 
 But I admit it was a famous trick. 
 
 In your most sovereign Lord, out of the mud 
 
 A microcosm nice to make, and do it 
 
 In one day. 
 Grace. He that the greater worlds could build 
 
 By his commanding power alone, to him 
 
 It wa.s not much these lesser works on earth
 
 CiiAP. XYII.J THE NACIMIENTO DE CIIRISTO. 
 
 285 
 
 'J'o il(j. Am! SIM' yon uot the two great lcUii]).s 
 AVliiili ovcilicM(l lie liiiiig so fail' ! 
 Innocence. And liow 
 
 The eai'tli lie sowcil witli llowci's, the licavi-ns with stars 'M^ 
 
 * Immediately after tlie fall, and tliei-efoi-e, * 243 
 according to the common Scriptural computa- 
 tion, al)out four thousand years before she was born, 
 the Madonna appears and personally drives Satan down 
 to perdition, while, at the same time, an Angel expels 
 Adam and Eve from Paradise. The Divine Prince and 
 the Celestial Emperor, as the Saviour and the Supreme 
 Divinity are respectively called, then come upon the 
 vacant stage, and, in a conference full of theological 
 subtilties, arrange the system of man's redemption, 
 "which, at the Divine conunand, Gabriel, — 
 
 Accompanied with armies all of stars 
 To fill the air with glorious lightj^" — 
 
 descending to Galilee, announces as about to be accom- 
 plished by the birth of the Messiah. This ends the 
 first act. 
 
 The second opens with the rejoicings of the Serpent. 
 Sin, and Death, — confident that the World is now 
 fairly given up to them. But their rejoicings are 
 short. Clarionets are sounded, and Divine Grace ap- 
 pears on the upper portion of the stage, and at once 
 expels the sinful rout from their boasted possessions ; 
 
 l'-* Adan. Aqui, Reyna, en esta alfobra 
 De yerua y flores te assienta. 
 Esso a la fe me contenta. 
 Reyna y Senora la nombra. 
 Pues no ves que es su muger, 
 Came de su came y hueso 
 De sus hucsos? Ino. Y aa por esso, 
 Porque es eomo ser su ser. 
 Linclos requiebros se dizen. 
 Dos en una came son . 
 Dure mil ano.s la union, 
 
 Y en esta paz se eternizen. 
 Por Ii Iteyna dexari 
 El Key a su padre y madre. 
 Ninguno nacii eon padre, 
 Poco en dexarlos hari ; 
 
 Y i la fe, Senor Adan, 
 Que aunque de Grjieia vizarro. 
 Que los Principes del barro 
 
 Inoc. 
 Gra. 
 
 Gra. 
 Inoc. 
 
 Gra. 
 Inoc. 
 
 Inoc 
 
 Notable pena me dan. 
 
 Brauo artiticii) tenia 
 
 Vuestro soberano duefio, 
 
 Quando un niundo aunque pequeno 
 
 Ilizo de barro en un dia. 
 
 Quie los dos mundos mayores 
 
 Pudo haeer con su palabra, 
 
 Que mucho que niiii|ia y abra 
 
 En la tierra estas labores. 
 
 No ves las laini)aras bcllas, 
 
 Que de los cielos colpjo ? 
 
 Conio de flores scmbro 
 
 La tierra , el cielo de cstrellas . 
 
 Comedias de Lope de Vepra. Tom 
 XXIV., Zaragoza, 1G41, f. HI. 
 
 2" Baxa esdareciendo el ayre 
 Con exercitos de estrella*;.
 
 286 THE NACIMIENTO DE CHKISTO. [Peuiou II. 
 
 explaining afterwards to the World, avIio now comes 
 on as one of the personages of the scene, that the 
 Holy Faniil}- are immediately to bring salvation to 
 men. 
 
 The World replies with rapture : — 
 
 O holy Grace, already I behold them ; 
 And, though the freezing night forbids, will haste 
 To border round my hoar frost all with flowers ; 
 To force the tender buds to sj)ring again 
 * 244 * From out their shrunken branches ; and to loose 
 
 The gentle streamlets from the hill-tops cold, 
 That they may pour their liipiid crystal down ; 
 While the old founts, at my command, shall flow 
 AVith milk, and ash-trees honey pure distil 
 To satisfy our joyful appetites. -i 
 
 The next scene is in Bethlehem, where Josei)h and 
 Mary appear begging for entrance at an inn, bat, owing 
 to the crowd, they are sent to a stable just outside the 
 city, in whose contiguous fields shepherds and shep- 
 herdesses are seen suffering from the frosty night, but 
 jesting and singing rude songs about it. In the midst 
 of their troubles and merriment, an angel appears in 
 a cloud announcing the birth of the Saviour; and the 
 second act is then concluded by the resolution of all to 
 g-o and find the divine child and carrv him their glad 
 salutations. 
 
 The last act is chiefly taken up with discussions 
 of the same subjects by the same shepherds and shep- 
 herdesses, and an account of the visit to the mother 
 and child ; some parts of which are not without poeti- 
 cal merit. It ends with the appearance of the three 
 Kings, preceded by dances of Gypsies and Negroes, 
 
 21 Ciracia s.inta, ya los veo. Bajen los arroyos niansos 
 
 Voy i hazer ijiie aquesta not-he, liiciuido cristal vertiendo. 
 
 Aunqun lo deficnda el yclo, Hare que las fuentes manen 
 
 Borden la esrarrha la.-> flores, Candida loche, y los fresnos 
 
 Salpan los ipinipollos tiernos Pun niiel, diluvios dulces, 
 
 De las enro'ri las ninias. Que aneiruen nuestros despos. 
 Y de los nionUs soberbios Comedias, Tom. XXIV. , Zaragoza, 1641 . f. llti
 
 C'HAi'. X\ ll.J THE XACIMIEXTO DE CIIKIS'I'O. 287 
 
 and witli the worsliip and offerings brought by call to 
 the new-born Saviour. 
 
 Such dramas do not seem to have been favorites 
 with Lope, and perhaps were not favorites with his 
 r.udiences. At least, few of them appear among his 
 [)rinted works ; — the one just noticed, and another, 
 called " The Creation of the World and Man's First 
 Sin," being the most prominent and curious ;^^ and one 
 on the atonement, entitled '^' The Pledge Redeemed," 
 being tlie most wild and gross. But to the proper 
 xstories of the Scri^Dtures he somewhat oftener resorted, 
 and with characteristic talent. Thus, we have 
 full-length plays on * the history of Tobias and * 245 
 the seven-times-wedded maid ; "'^ on the fair 
 Esther and Ahasuerus ; ^ and on the somewhat un- 
 suitable subject of the Ravishment of Dinah, the 
 daughter of Jacob, as it is told in the Book of 
 Genesis.^^ In all these, and in the rest of the class to 
 which they belong, Spanish manners and ideas, rather 
 than Jewish, give their coloring to the scene ; and 
 the story, though substantially taken from the Hebrew 
 records, is thus rendered much more attractive, for 
 the purposes of its representation at Madrid, than it 
 would have been in its original simplicity; as, for in- 
 stance, in the case of the "Esther," where a comic un- 
 derplot between a coquettish shepherdess and her lover 
 is much relied upon for the popular effect of the 
 whole.^*^ 
 
 2^ It is in the twenty-fourtli voluiuf Tom. XXIII. , Madrid, 1638, ff. 118, 
 
 of the Comedias of Lope, Madrid. 16:5 -2, etc. To this may he added a hetter 
 
 and is one of the very few of his re- one, in Tom. XXII., Mailiid, 1635, 
 
 ligious plays that have been occasion- "Los Trabajos de Jacob," on the beau- 
 
 idly reprinted. tifnl stoiy of Joseph and his l)iethrcn. 
 
 is " Historia de Tobias," Comedias, ^ Thennderjilot is slightly connect- 
 
 Tom. XV., Madrid, 1621, ff. 231, etc. ed with tlie main story of Esther, by a 
 
 -* "La Hermo.sa Ester," Ibid., ff. proclamation oHving Ahasuerus, calling 
 
 lol, etc. iM'fore liini all the fair maidens of his 
 
 ^ "El Kobo de Diua," Coniedia-, empire, which, coming to the ears of
 
 288 
 
 OTIIEK EEJ^Kilors I'l.AVS. 
 
 rPKP.TOn II. 
 
 Still, oven these dramas were not able to satisfv 
 audiences accustomed to the more national spirit of 
 plays founded on fashiona1:)le life and intriguing adven- 
 tures. A wider range, therefore, was taken. Sti'iking 
 religious events of all kinds — especially those found 
 in the lives of holy men — were resorted to, and in- 
 genious stories were constructed out of the 
 * 24G * miracles and sufferings of saints, which were 
 often as interesting as the intrigues of Span- 
 ish gallants, or the achievements of the old S])anish 
 heroes, and were sometimes hardly less free and wild. 
 Saint Jerome, under the name of the " Cardinal of 
 Bethlehem," is brought upon the stage in one of them, 
 first as a gay gallant, and afterwards as a saint scourged 
 by angels, and triumphing, in open show, over Satan.-" 
 In another, San Diego of Alcala rises, from being the 
 attendant of a poor hermit, to be a general with mili- 
 tary command, and, after committing most soldier-like 
 atrocities in the Fortunate Islands, returns and dies at 
 home in the odor of sanctitv."^ And in vet others, his- 
 
 Silena, the shepherdess, she insists 
 upon leaving her lover, Selvagio, and 
 trying the fortune of her beauty at 
 court. She fails, and on her return is 
 rejected by Selvagio, but still main- 
 tains her cO(|uettish sjiirit to tlie last, 
 and goes off saying or singing, as gayly 
 as if it were part of an old ballad, — 
 
 For the Tulture that flies apart, 
 
 I left my little t>ird"s nest : 
 But n\\\ I can soften his heart, 
 
 -Vnd 5O0the down his pride to rest. 
 
 The best parts of the play are the more 
 religious ; like Esther's prayers in the 
 first and last acts, and the ballad sung 
 at the triunijdiant festival when Ahasu- 
 erus jields to her beauty ; but the 
 whole, like many other plays of the 
 same sort, is intended, under the dis- 
 guise of a sacred suV)ject, to serve the 
 purjtoses of the secular theatre. 
 
 Perhaps one of the most amusing 
 instances of incongruity in Lope, and 
 their number is not few, is to be found 
 
 in the first jornadn of the ' ' Trabajos 
 de Jacob," where Joseph, at the mo- 
 ment he escapes from Potiphar's wife, 
 leaving his cloak in her possession, says 
 in soliloijuy : — 
 
 So niayest thou, woman-like, upon my cloak 
 Thy vengeance wreak, as the bull wreaks his 
 
 \vrath 
 Upon the cloak before hinj played ; the man 
 Meanwhile escaping safe. 
 
 Y assi haras en essa capa, 
 (;on venfjanza de muger, 
 Lo que el toro suele hacer 
 Del hombre que se escapa . 
 
 Yet, absurd as the passage is for its in- 
 congruity, it may have been loudly ap- 
 ])lauded by an audience that thought 
 much more of bull-fights than of the 
 just rules of the drama. 
 
 ■■" " Kl ("ardcnal dc Belen," Comcdi- 
 as, To7n. .Xlll., Madrid, Iti'iO. 
 
 ^ This jilay is not in the collection 
 of Lope's C'omedias, but it is in Lord 
 Holland's list. My copy of it is an old 
 one, without date, printed for popular
 
 < iiAi'. XVI].] COMEDIAS DE SANTOS. 289 
 
 torieal subjects of a relisj^ioiis character are taken, like 
 the story of the holy liainha torn Ironi the plough in 
 the seventh centuiy. and by miraculons conunand 
 made king of Spain ; -•* or like the life of the Moham- 
 medan prince of Morocco, who, in 1593, was converted 
 to Christianity and publicly baptized in presence of 
 Philip the Second, Avitli the heir of the throne for his 
 godfather.'^'* 
 
 All these, and many more like them, were repre- 
 sented with the consent of the ecclesiastical powers, — 
 sometimes even in convents and other religious houses, 
 but oftener in public, and always mider auspices no 
 less obviously religions;^^ The favorite mate- 
 rials for such dramas, * however, were found, at * 247 
 last, almost exclusively in the lives of popular 
 saints ; and the number of plays filled witli such his- 
 tories and miracles was so great, soon after the year 
 1600, that they came to be considered as a class by 
 themselves, under the name of " Comedias de Santos," 
 or Saints' Plays. Lope wrote many of them. Besides 
 
 use at Valladolid. And 1 have it, also, Christiano, por el P. Fr. Donato Cian- 
 
 iu the "Comedias Escogidas,"' Tom. tar, ec, traducida de Toscano en Es- 
 
 III., 1653, f. 222. panol, en Sevilla, por Juan Gomez de 
 
 29 "Comedias," Tom. I., Valladolid, Bias, Ano de 1646," 4to, pp. 4 ; — averj' 
 
 1604, ff. 91, etc. curious tract, which justities much in 
 
 ^ " Bautismo del Principe de Mar- the play of Lope that seems improbable, 
 ruecos," in which there are nearly sixty ^^ C. Pellicer, On'gen, Tom. I. p. 153. 
 ]ier.sonages. Comedias, Tom. XL, Bar- When Francisco de Borja was canonized 
 rrlona, 1618, tf. 269, etc. C. Pellicer, in 1625, there were great festivities for 
 On'gen del Teatro, Tom. I. p. 86. Such several days, and the Jesuits, of whose 
 a baptism — and one brought on the society he had been a proud oruanient, 
 stage, too — soxinds very strange ;. but caused a play on his life to be acted iu 
 strange things of the sort occurred oc- a theatv(» belonging to them at ISLidrid ; 
 casionally from the intimate relations Philip IV. and the Infantes being pres- 
 that often subsisted between the Chris- ent. Who wrote the play I do not 
 tian captives in Barbary and their mis- know, for the account of the festival, 
 believing masters. For instance, in intending, perhaps, to pun, onl}- says : 
 1646, the oldest son of the Bey of "Por ser e\ Autor de la Compania, la 
 Tunis escaped to Palermo, for the ex- mode-stia le venera en silencio." A 
 press pur})ose of becoming a Christian, masque followed ; a poetical certam.en, 
 and was there, with great ceremony, etc. ; — but all under religious auspices. 
 received into the bosom of the Church. Elogio del S. P. Francisco de Borja, 
 See " Relacion de la Venida a Sirilia Duque de Gandia, ec, por el Docttor 
 del Principe Mamet, hijo primogenito Juan Antonio d<^ Pena, Natural de Ma- 
 de Amat Dey de Tunis, a volver.se drid, 1625, 4to, f. 6, etc. 
 VOL. II. 19
 
 290 
 
 THE bA-\ IS^IDIJU DK .MADltlU. 
 
 [Pekiod If. 
 
 those ah'eady mentioned, wo liave from his pen di-a- 
 niatic compositions on the hves of Saint Francis, San 
 Pedro de Xohisco, Saint Thomas Aqninas, Saint JuUan. 
 Saint Xichohis of Tolentino, Santa Teresa, three on 
 San Isidro de Madrid, and not a few othci's. Maiiv of 
 tliem, hke Saint Nicholas of Tolentino,'^^ are very 
 strange and extravagant ; others are full of poetry ; 
 but perhaps none will give a more true idea of the 
 entire class than the first one he wrote, on the sub- 
 ject of the favored saint of his own city, San Isidi-o 
 de Mad rid. -^'^ 
 
 It seems to have all the vai-ieties of action and 
 character that belong to the secular divisions of the 
 Spanish drama. Scenes of stirring interest occur in 
 
 it among warriors just returned to Madrid from 
 * 248 a * successful foray against the Moors; gay 
 
 scenes, with rustic dancing and frolics, at the 
 marriage of Isidro and the birth of his son ; and scenes 
 of broa<l farce with the sacristan, who c()iii])laiiis. that, 
 owing to Isi(h-o's j^ower with Heaven, he no longer 
 
 ^■^ "San Nicolas de Toleutino," Co- 
 meilias, Tom. XXIV., Zaragoza, 1641, 
 ff. 167, etc. Each act, as is not un- 
 common in the old Spanish theati'e, is 
 a sort of separate play, with its sepa- 
 rate list of personages prefi.ved. The 
 lirst has twenty-one ; among wliich are 
 God, the Madonna, History, Mercy, 
 Justice, Satan, etc. It opens with a 
 masquerading scene in a public s(piare, 
 of no little spirit ; immediately after 
 which we have a scene in heaven, con- 
 taining the Divine judgment on the 
 soul of one who bad died in mortal sin ; 
 then another s[)irited scene, in a jmblic 
 Sfpiare, among loungers, with a sennon 
 Iroin a fervent, fanatical monk ; and 
 ■ aftei'wartls, successive scenes between 
 Nicholas, who lias been moved by this 
 .sermon to enter a convent, and his fam- 
 ily, wlio consent to his imrjiosc with 
 reluctaiH-*' ; the wlioli- iiiding with a 
 dialogue of the ni<li'st liunior between 
 Xichola.s's si-rvant, wiio is tlie buffoon 
 
 of the piece, and a sei"vant-maid, to 
 whom he was engaged to be married, 
 but whom he now abandons, deter- 
 ndned to follow his master into a re- 
 ligious .seclusion, wluch, at the .same 
 time, he is making lidiculous b\' his 
 jests and paiodies. This is the first 
 act. The other two acts are such as 
 might be anticipated from it. 
 
 *^ This is not either of the plays or- 
 dered by the city of Madri<l to be acted 
 ill the open air in 1622, in honor of the 
 canonization of San Isidro, and found 
 in the twelfth volume of Lope's Obras 
 Sueltas ; tliough, on a comparison with 
 the.se last, it will be seen tiiat it was 
 used in their composition. It, in fact, 
 wa.s printed five years earlier, in the 
 .seventh volume of Lope's Comedias, 
 Madrid, 1617, and continued long in 
 favor, for it is rc))rinted in Parte 
 XXVIII. of " CdiiJi'dias Esc-ogidas de 
 los Mejores Ingenii»s,'' Madrid, 1667, 
 4to.
 
 CiiAi'. XVII. J THE SAX ISIDKO 1)K .MADIMI). 291 
 
 gets l\'i'y< for burials, mid that ho believes Death is 
 gone to l'\ '3 elsewhere, l^iit through the whole runs 
 the loving and devout character of the Saint iiiinself, 
 giving it a sort of poetical unity and ])o\ver. The 
 ano'els come down to iilouuh for him, that he ma\' no 
 lonu'er incur reproach b\' nei>'le(!tin('" his laboi's in 
 order to attend mass ; and at the touch of his uoad, 
 a spring oi' pure water, still looked upon with rever- 
 ence, rises in a burning waste to refresh his unjust 
 master. Popular songs and poetry, meanwhile,^* with 
 a parody of the old Moorish ballad of '' Gentle River, 
 (lentle River," '^^ and allusions to the holy image of 
 Almudena, ard the church of Saint Andrew, give life 
 to the dialogue, as it goes on ; — all familiar as house- 
 hold w^ords at Madrid, and striking chords which, wdien 
 this drama was first represented, still viljrated in every 
 heart. At the end, the body of the Saint, after his 
 death, is exposed before the well-know^n altar of his 
 favorite church ; and there, according to the old tra- 
 ditions, his former master and the queen come to wor- 
 ship him, and, with pious sacrilege, endeavor to bear 
 away from his person relics for their own protection ; 
 but are punished on the spot by a miracle, which thus 
 serves at once as the final and crowning testimony to 
 the divine merits of the Saint, and as an appropriate 
 dhiouement for the piece. 
 
 No doubt, such a drama, extending over forty or 
 fifty years of time, with its motley crowd of person- 
 ages, — among whom are angels and demons, Envy, 
 
 ** A spirited ballad or popular song I^ dan pan , le aan cebolla, 
 
 is simg and danced at the vouug Saint's "^ ^'°° taml.ien 1,. <lan, etc. 
 
 .vedding, beginning,— " Comedias, Tom. xxvni., 1G67, p. 54. 
 
 Al Tillano se lo dan 35 Rio verde, rio verdo, 
 
 La cehoUa con el pan. Jilas negro va.s que la tinta 
 
 Mira que el tosco villano, De sangre de los Chri.stianos, 
 
 Quando (juiera alborear, Que no de la Moreria. 
 
 Saiga con .su par de bui^yes p. 60. 
 
 Y su : ra<io otro que tal.
 
 292 AUTOS SA(;IJAMEXTALES. |l'i;i;i..i. 11. 
 
 Falsehood, and. the River Manzanaics. — would 
 * 249 now be accounted * grotesque and irrevereut. 
 
 rather than anything else. But in the time of 
 Lope, the audiences not only brought ii willing faith 
 to such representations, but received gladly an exhi- 
 bition of the miracles which connected the saint they 
 worshipped and his beneficent virtues Avith their own 
 times and their personal well-being. ''^'^ If to this we 
 add tlie restraints on the theatre, and Lope's extraor- 
 dinary facility, grace, and ingenuity, Avhich never 
 failed to consult and gratify the jjopular taste, we 
 shall have all the elements necessary to explain the 
 great niunber of religious dramas he composed, whether 
 in the nature of Mysteries, Scrij^ture stories, or lives of 
 saints. Thev belono-ed to his ao;e and countrv as much 
 as he himself did. 
 
 But Lope adventiu'ed with success in another form 
 of the drama, not only more grotesque than that of 
 the full-length religious plays, but intended yet more 
 directly for popular edification, — the '" Autos Sacra- 
 mentales," or Sacramental Acts, — a sort of religious 
 ])lays performed in the streets during the season when 
 the gorgeous ceremonies of the " Corpus Christi " filled 
 them with rejoicing crowds.'^' No form of the Spanish 
 drama is older, and none had so long a reign, or main- 
 tained during its continuance so strong a hold on the 
 
 ^ How far these Jihu's were felt to cret; or ;i judgiin-iit of a eourt. After- 
 be religious by the crowds who wit- wards it was ajijilied to these religious 
 nessed them may be seen in a thousand dramas, which weic called Autos sacra- 
 ways; ajnong the rest, by the fact men- mentnles, or Autos del Corpus Christi, 
 tioned by >Iadame d'Aulnoy, in 1679, and to the aiitos de fe. of the Inquisi- 
 that, when St. Anthony, on the stage, tion ; in both cases, because they wen- 
 repeated his Cinifiteor, the audience all considered solemn religious aits, (.'o- 
 fell on their knees, smote their breasts varrubias, Tesoro de la Lengua Castel- 
 heavily, and cried out, MfA, culpd. lana, ad verb. Auto. For the early 
 Voyage d'Espagne. A la Haye, 1693, history of the procession and for the 
 18mo, Tom. I. p. 56. management of the Alogigone.s, the Ta- 
 
 ^ .^?'to was originally a forensic tenii, rasca, etc., see Bibliotecario, 1841, fol., 
 
 from the Latin uc/as, and meant a de- jiji. 2.1-27.
 
 Chap. XVII.] AUTOS SACRAMENTALES. 293 
 
 general favor. Its representations, as we have already 
 seen, may be found among the earliest intimations of 
 the national literature ; and, as we shall learn hei-e- 
 after, they were with difficulty suppressed by the royal 
 anthorit}^ after the middle of the eighteenth century. 
 In the age of Lope, and in that immediately following, 
 they were at the height of their success, and had 
 become an important *part of the religious cere- * 250 
 monies arranged for the solemn sacramental festi- 
 val to which they were devoted, not only in Madrid, but 
 throughout Spain ; all the theatres being closed for a 
 month to give place to them and to do them honor.'^^ 
 
 Yet to our apprehensions, notwithstanding their re- 
 ligions claims, they are almost wholly gross and irrev- 
 erent. Indeed, the very circumstances under which 
 they were represented would seem to prove that they 
 were not regarded as really solemn. A sort of rude 
 mumming, which certainly had nothing grave about it, 
 preceded them, as they advanced through the thronged 
 streets, where the windows and balconies of the better 
 sort of houses were hung with silks and tapestries to 
 honor the occasion. First in this extraordinary pro- 
 cession came the figure of a misshapen marine monster, 
 
 ^^ Great splendor was used, from the indecent. In fact, tliey were finally for- 
 earliest times down to the present cen- bidden as such by Charles III. in 1765. 
 tury, in the processions of the Corpus The wonder is that in a state of society 
 Christi throughout Spain ; as may lie claiming to be Christian they were sus- 
 judged from the accounts of them in tained alike by the Church and the 
 Valencia, Seville, and Toledo, in the civil power; for in 1609, Mariana, in 
 Semanario Pintoresco, 1839, p. 167; his treatise " DeSpectaculis," had made 
 1840, p. 187 ; and 1841, p. 177. In it plain enough that they were unwor- 
 those of Toledo, there is an intimation thy all such countenance. In the Span- 
 that Lope de Rueda was employed in ish version of this remarkable treatise, 
 the dramatic entertainments connected made by the great historian liimself, I 
 with them in 1561 ; and that Alonso find one more chapter (the twelfth) in 
 Cisneros, Cristobal Navarro, and other which he says that the most gi-oss of 
 known writers for the rude popular all the dances (the zara.bnnda) was pei'- 
 stage of that time, were his successors ; formed in the Corpus Christi ceremo- 
 — all serving to introduce Lope and nies of the autos witli all its indecent 
 Calderon. gestures. See^ws^, p. 452, note, for the 
 
 But, at all periods, from first to last, Zarabanda. 
 the proper autos were rude, gross, and
 
 294 AUTOS SACRx^MEXTALES. [Vnnum 11. 
 
 called the Tarasca, half serpent \\\ form. l)()rne l)y men 
 concealed in its cumbrous bulk, and sunnounted In* 
 another figure representing the Woman of Btdndon. — 
 the whole so managed as to fill Avitli wonder and terror 
 the poor country people that crowded round it. some 
 of whose hats and caps were generally snatched away 
 by the grinning beast, and regarded as the lawful 
 plunder of his conductors.^ 
 
 Then followed a company of fair children, witli gar- 
 lands on their heads, singing hynnis and litanies of the 
 Church; and sometimes companies of men and women 
 with castanets, dancing the national dances. Two or 
 more huge Moorish or negro giants, commonly called 
 the Gigantones, made of pasteboard, came next, jump- 
 ing about grotesquely, to the great alarm of some of 
 
 the less experienced part of the crowd, and to 
 * 251 the * great amusement of the rest. Then, with 
 
 much pomp and fine music, appeared the jDriests, 
 bearing the Host under a splendid canopy ; and after 
 them a long and devout procession, where was seen, in 
 Madrid, the king, with a taper in his hand, like the 
 meanest of his subjects, together with the great officers 
 of state and foreign ambassadors, who all crowded in 
 to swell the splendor of the scene.^ Last of all came 
 showy cars, filled wath actors from the public theatres, 
 who were to figure on the occasion, and add to its 
 
 8^ Pellicer, notes D. Quixote, Toiu. period of Lojje's success ; aiul a fancy 
 
 IV. pp. 105, 106, and Covarnibias, ut drawing of the proce.s.sion, as it may 
 
 siqyra, ad verb. Tarasca. The pojm- have appeared at Madrid in 1623, is to 
 
 lace of Toledo called the woman on the he found in the Senianario Pintoresco, 
 
 Tarasca, Anne Boleyn. Sem. Pint., 1846, p. 185. But Lope's loa is the 
 
 1841, p. 177. hest authority. A good authority for 
 
 *<* The most lively description I liave it, as it was got uj) in the provinces, 
 
 seen of this i)roces!5ion is contained in may lie found in Ovando's jwetical de- 
 
 the loa to Lopez's first fesUi and aido scrijrtion of it at Malaga in 1655, where, 
 
 (Obras Sueltas, Tom. XVIII. ]i]). 1 -7). among other irreligious extravagances, 
 
 Another description, to suit the festival (!y])sies with tanilwurines danced in 
 
 as it was got UJ) altout 1655 - 166.'), will the jirocession. Ocios de Ca.stalia por 
 
 be found when we come to C'alderon. .Tuan deOvando Santarem, 4to, Mahiga, 
 
 It is given here as it occuiTed in the 1663, f. 87, ec.
 
 Cjiai'. XVII.] AUTOS SACKAMENTALES. 295 
 
 attractions, if not to its solemnity; — personages who 
 constituted so important a part of the day's fes- 
 tivity, that the whole was often called, in popular 
 phrase, The Festival of the Cars, — " La Fiesta de los 
 Garros.'"" 
 
 This procession — not, indeed, magnificent in the 
 towns and hamlets of the provinces, as it was in the 
 capital, but always as imposing as the resources of the 
 place where it occurred could make it — stopped from 
 time to time under awnings in front of the house of 
 some distinguished person, — perhaps that of the 
 President of the Council of Castile at Madrid, per- 
 haps that of the alcalde of a village, — and there 
 waited reverently till certain religious offices could 
 be performed l)y the ecclesiastics ; the multitude^ 
 all the while, kneeling, as if in church. As soon 
 as these duties were over, or at a later hour of the 
 day, the actors from the cars appeared on a neigh- 
 boring stage, in the open air, and performed, accord- 
 ing to their limited service, the sacramental auto 
 prepared for the occasion, and always alluding to 
 it directly. Of such aiitos, we know, on good au- 
 thority, that Lope wrote about four hundred.*^ 
 Of these above thirty * are still extant, in- * 2-52 
 eluding several in manuscript, and a consid- 
 erable number which were published only that the 
 towns and villages of the interior might enjoy the 
 same devout pleasures that were enjoyed by the 
 court and capital ; — so universal was the fanaticism 
 for this strange form of amusement, and so deeply 
 was it seated in the popular character. Even Lope, 
 on his death-bed, told Mental van, that he regretted 
 
 *^ A good idea of the contents of the II. c. 11,) as he was returning from 
 carro may be found in the deseiiption Tohoso. 
 of the one met by Don Quixote, (Parte *^ Montalvan, in liis Fama Pustuma^
 
 296 
 
 AUTOS SACRAMEXTALES. 
 
 [Period II. 
 
 lie had not given his whole Hfe to writhig auio^ and 
 other .similar religious poetry.*^ 
 
 At an earlier period, and perhaps as late as the 
 time ol" Lope's first appearance, this part of the 
 festival consisted of a very shnple exhibition-, accom- 
 panied with rustic songs, eclogues, and dancing, such 
 as we find it in a large collection of manuscript 
 liii/os, of which two that have been pul)lished are 
 slight and rude in their structure and dialogue, and 
 .seem to date from a })eriod as early as that of Lope ; ^* 
 but during his lifetime, and chiefly under his influ- 
 ence, it became a formal and well-defined popular 
 
 entertainment, divided into three parts, each 
 * 2-33 of which * was quite distinct in its character 
 
 from the others, and all of them dramatic. 
 
 '^ Preface of Joseph Ortis de Villena, 
 prefixed to the Autos in Tom. XVIII. 
 of the Obras Sueltas. They were not 
 ])rinted till 1644, nine yeai-s after Lope's 
 death, and then they apjieared at Zai-a- 
 goza. One other mito, attributed to 
 Lope, " El Tirano Ca.stigado," occurs in 
 a very rare volume, entitled "Navidad y 
 Coi-pusChri.sti Fe.stejado.s," collected by 
 Isidro de Robles, and already referred to. 
 
 The whole number of Lope's mito.i 
 as given by Chorley is : printed and 
 umpiestionable, 18 ; others, more or 
 less uncertain, 26, except three which 
 are autographs. 
 
 ** Tlie manu.script collection men- 
 tioned in the text was ac([uired by the 
 National Library at Madiid in 1844. 
 It fills 468 leaves in folio, and contains 
 ninety-five dramatic pieces. All of 
 them are anonymous exce|)t one, which 
 i". said to be by Maestro Femiz, and is 
 on the subject of (Iain anil Al)el ; and 
 all Imt one .seem to be on religious .sub- 
 jects. Thi.s last is called " Entrem/is 
 <le las Esteras," and is the only one 
 Iw-arinc that title. The rest are called 
 <'')fiH]in'os, Farsa-t, and Aulas; nearly 
 all fjeing i-,alled /iiiios, but .some of them 
 Ffima.s dd Sru.rn.m/'.nl/), which .seems to 
 have 1>een regarded a.s .synonymous. 
 One onl)' is dated. It is called " Auto 
 lie la ResuiTeccion de Christo," and is 
 licensed to be acted March 28, 1568. 
 
 Two have been published in the Museo 
 Literario, 1844, by Don Eugenio de 
 Tapia, of the Royal Libraiy, Madrid, 
 one of the well-known Spanish scholars 
 and writei"s of our own time. The first, 
 entitled ' ' Auto de los Dt.sposorios de 
 Moisen," is a very slight jierfonnauce, 
 and, except the Prologue or Argument, 
 is in prose. The other, called "Auto 
 de la Kesidencia del Hombre," is no, 
 better, but is all in verse. In a subse- 
 quent number, Don Eugenio publishes 
 a complete list of the titles, with the 
 figuras or jiersonages that apjiear in 
 each. It is much to be desired that 
 all the contents of this MS. .should be 
 properly edited. Meanwliilc, we know 
 that sayneten were sometimes interyjosed 
 between diflerent parts of the perform- 
 ances ; that allegorical pei'.sonages were 
 abundant ; and that the Bubo or Fool 
 constantly recurs. Some of them were 
 jirobably earlier than the time of Lope 
 de Vega ; jn-rhaps a.s early as the time 
 of Lojk; de Rueda, who, as I have al- 
 ready .said in note 38, ante, may have 
 prepared autoa of some kind for the city 
 of Toledo, in 1.561. But the language 
 and vei-silication of the two jiieces that 
 have been jiiinfcil, and the general air of 
 the fiction.s and allegories of the rest, sij 
 far as we can gather them from what has 
 been jiublislied, indicate a jieriod nearly 
 or i[uite as late as that of Li)]m; de Vega.
 
 CiiAr. XYII.] AUTOS SACEAMENTALES. 2'J7 
 
 Fir.^t of all, in its more completed state, came the 
 loa. This was always in the nature of a prologue ; 
 but sometimes, in ibrm, it was a dialogue spoken by 
 two or more actors. One of the best of Lope's is 
 of this kind. It is filled with the trou})les of a 
 peasant who has come to Madrid in order to see 
 these very shows, and has lost his wife in the crowd ; 
 but, just as he has quite consoled himself and satisfied 
 his conscience by determining to have her cried once 
 or twice, and then to give her up as a lucky loss and 
 take another, she comes in and describes with much 
 spirit the wonders of the procession she had seen, 
 precisely as her audience themselves had just seen it ; 
 thus making, in the form of a prologue, a most amus- 
 ing and appropriate introduction for the drama that 
 was to follow.'*^ Another of Lope's has is a discussion 
 between a gay gallant and a peasant, who talks, in 
 rustic fashion, on the subject of the doctrine of tran- 
 substantiation.*'' Another is given in the character of 
 a Morisco, and is a monologue, in the dialect of the 
 speaker, on the advantages and disadvantages of his 
 turning Christian in earnest, after having for some 
 time made his living fraudulently by begging in the 
 assumed character of a Christian pilgrim."*' All of 
 them are amusing, though burlesque ; but some of 
 them are anything rather than religious. 
 
 After the loa came an cntremes. All that remain to 
 us of Lope's entremeses are mere farces, like the inter- 
 ludes used every day in the secular theatres. In one 
 
 *^ This is the first of the loas in the and refers me, for proof, to tlie ricface: 
 
 volume, and, on the whole, the best. of the Comedias, Tom. VI II., and to- 
 
 My friend, Mr. J. K. Chorley, whose the Prologo of Pando y Mier to the 
 
 knowledge of Spanish literature, and Autos of Calderon. I have no doubt 
 
 especially of whatever relates to Lope, he is right. For an account of Xoa.v, 
 
 is so ample and accurate, doubts wheth- see post. Chap. XXVI. 
 
 er the loas that have been published *^ ObrasSueltas, Tom. XVIII. ]). 367. 
 
 among Lope's Works are all really his, *^ Ibid., p. 107.
 
 298 AUTOS SACRAMEXTALES. [Peuiod II. 
 
 instance he makes an enfremes a satire upon lawyers, in 
 Avhicli a member of the craft, as in the old French 
 ^■' Maistre Pathelin," is cheated and robbed by a seem- 
 ingly simple peasant, who first renders him ex- 
 * 254 tremely * ridiculous, and then escapes hy dis- 
 guising himself as a blind ballad-singer, and 
 dancing and singing in honor of the festiyal, — a 
 conclusion which seems to be peculiarly irreverent for 
 this particular occasion.'^^ In another instance, he 
 ridicules the poets of his time hy bringing on the 
 .stage a lady who pretends she has just come from the 
 Indies, with a fortune, in order to marry a poet, and 
 succeeds in her purpose; but both find themselves 
 deceived, for the lady has no income but such as is 
 gained by a pair of castanets, and her husband turns 
 out to be a ballad-maker. Both, however, have good 
 sense enough to be content with their bargain, and 
 agree to go through the world together singing and 
 dancing ballads, of which, by way of finale to the 
 entremes, they at once give the crowd a specimen.*'^ 
 Yet another of Lope's successful attempts in this wa}' 
 is an interlude containing within itself the representa- 
 tion of a play on the story of Helen, which reminds 
 US of the similar entertainment of Pyramus and Thisbe 
 in the " Midsummer Night's Dream " ; but it breaks 
 off in the middle, — the actor who plays Paris running 
 jiway in earnest with the actress who plays Helen, and 
 the piece ending with a burlesque scene of confusions 
 and reconciliations.'^'^ And finally, another is a parody 
 of tlie procession itself, with its giants, cars, and all; 
 treating the whole with the gayest ridicule.^^ 
 
 *« 01)ras Sueltas, Torn. XVIII. p. 8. '^> IhM., j.. 108. "El Robo dc He- 
 
 *' Entn-iiics df'l I/^trado." lena." 
 
 *'* Iliiil., J). 114. "Entremes del 5i jiji,!^ j, 373 "Muestra de lo.s 
 
 Poeta." Carros."
 
 CiiAi'. XVII.] AUTOS SACRAMENTALES. 299 
 
 Thus far, all has heen avowedly comic in the dra- 
 matic exhibitions of these religious festivals. But the 
 aiitos or sacramental acts themselves, with which the 
 whole concluded, and to which all that preceded was 
 only introductory, claim to be more grave in their 
 general tone, though in some cases, like the prologues 
 and interludes, parts of them are too whimsical and 
 extravagant to be anything but amusing. "The 
 Bridge of the World " is one of this class.^^ It repre- 
 sents the Prince of Darkness placing the giant Levia- 
 than on the bridge of the world, to defend its 
 j)assage against all * comers wdio do not con- * 255 
 fess his supremacy. Adam and Eve, who, as 
 we are told in the directions to the players, appear 
 " dressed very gallantly after the French fashion," ai'e 
 naturally the first that present themselves.^^ They 
 subscribe to the hard condition, and pass over in sight 
 of the audience. In tlie same manner, as the dialogue 
 informs us, the patriarchs, with Moses, David, and Solo- 
 mon, go over ; but at last the Knight of the Cross, 
 " the Celestial Amadis of Greece," as he is called, 
 appears in person, overthrows the pretensions of the 
 Prince of Darkness, and leads the Soul of Man in tri- 
 umpli across the flital passage. The whole is obviously 
 a parody of the old story of the Giant defending the 
 Bridge of Mantible;^"^ and when to this are added paro- 
 dies of the ballad of "Count Claros " applied to Adam/^ 
 
 ^^ It is the last in the collection, Yen-os Adan por amores 
 and, as to its poetry, one of the best of '^'^'"'^ '^o" '!<' perdonar, etc. ; 
 the twelve, if not the very best. which is out of the beautiful and well- 
 s'^ The direction to the actors is, known old ballad of the "CondeClaro.s," 
 "Salen Adan y Eva vestidos de Fran- beginning " Pe.same de vos, el Conde," 
 ceses muy galanes." which has been already noticed, aide, 
 5* See Historia del Emperador Carlos Vol. I. p. 109. It must have been 
 Magno, Cap. 26, 30, etc. perfectly familiar to many persons in 
 55 The giant says to Adam, referring Lope's audience, and how the allusion 
 to the temptation : — to it could have produced any other 
 
 than an irreverent effect I know not.
 
 300 AUTOS SACRAMEXTALES. [Pep.iod II. 
 
 aud of other old ballads applied to the Saviour,^*'' the 
 confusion of allegory and farce, of religion and folly, 
 seems to be complete. 
 
 Others of the autos are more uniformly srrave. " The 
 Harvest " is a spiritualized version of the parable in 
 Saint Matthew on the Field that was sowed with Good 
 Seed and with Tares/' and is carried through with 
 some degree of solemnity ; but the unhappy tares, 
 that are threatened with being cut down and cast 
 into the fire, are nothing less than Judaism, Idolatry, 
 Heresy, and all Sectarianism, who are hardly to be 
 saved from their fate by their conversion through the 
 mercy of the Lord of the Harvest and his fair spouse, 
 the Church. However, notwithstanding a few such 
 absurdities and awkwardnesses in the allegory, and 
 some very misplaced compliments to the reigning 
 royal family, this is one of the best of the class 
 * 256 to which it belongs, and * one of the most 
 solemn. Another of those open to less re- 
 proach than usual is called '"The Return from Eg^q^t,"^ 
 which, with its shepherds and gypsies, is not without 
 the grace of an eclogue, and, with its ballads and popu- 
 lar songs, has some of the charms that belong to Lope's 
 secular dramas. These two, with "The Wolf turned 
 Shepherd," ^^ — which is an allegory on the subject of 
 the Devil taking upon himself the character of the 
 true shepherd of the flock, — constitute as fair, or per- 
 haps, rather, as favorable, specimens of the genuine 
 Spanish aido as can be found in the elder school. All 
 of them rest on the grossest of the jDrevailing notions 
 
 ^ Tlic addross of the jiiusic, "Si dor- excellent translation in Dolini's Span- 
 mis, Principe ruio," refers to the bal- ischeDramen, Berlin, 1841, 8vo, Tom. I. 
 lads about those whose lady-loves had ^ " La Vuelta de Egj'pto," Obi-as, 
 been carried captive among the Moors. Tom. XVI II., p. 43.5. 
 
 ^' "La Siega," (Obras Suelta.s, Tom. ^^ "El Pa.stor Lobo y Cabana Celes- 
 
 XVIII. p. .328,) of which there is an tial," Ibid., p. 381.
 
 CiiAr. XVII.] ENTREMESES. 301 
 
 in religion ; all of them appeal, in every way they can, 
 whether light or serious, to the popular feelings and 
 prejudices ; many of them are imbued with the spirit 
 of the old national ])oetry; and these, taken together, 
 are the foundation on which their success rested, — a 
 success which, if we consider the religious object of the 
 festival, was undoubtedly of extraordinary extent and 
 extraordinary d in^ation. 
 
 But the entremeses or interludes that were used to 
 enliven the dramatic part of this rude, but gorgeous 
 ceremonial, were by no means confined to it. They 
 were, as has been intimated, acted daily in the public 
 theatres, where, from the time when the full-length 
 dramas were introduced, they had been inserted be- 
 tween their different divisions or acts, to afford a 
 lighter amnsement to tlie audience. Lope wrote a 
 great number of them ; how many is not known. 
 From their slight character, however, hardly more 
 than thirty have been preserved, and some of those 
 that bear his name are probably not his. But we 
 have enough that are genuine to show that in this, 
 as in the other departments of his drama, popular 
 effect was chiefly sought, and that, as everywhere else, 
 the flexibility of his genius is manifested in the variety 
 of forms in which it exhibits its resources. Generally 
 speaking, those we possess are written in prose, are 
 very short, and have no plot; being merely farcical 
 dialogues drawn from common or vulgar life. 
 
 The " Mehsendra," however, one of the first 
 published, * is an exception to this remark. It * 257 
 is composed almost entirely in verse, is divid- 
 ed into acts, and has a loa or prologue; — in short, it 
 is a parody in the form of a regular phiy, founded on 
 the story of Gayferos and Melisendra in the old bal-
 
 302 ENTREMESES. [Pkkiod II. 
 
 lads.®' The " Padre Enganado," which Ilolcroft brought 
 upon the English stage under the name of " The Father 
 Outwitted," is another exception, and is a lively farce 
 of eight or ten pages, on the ridiculous troubles of a 
 father who gives his own daughter in disguise to the 
 verv lover from whom he supposed he had carefully 
 shut her up.*^^ But most of them, like " The Indian," 
 "The Cradle," and "The Robbers Cheated," would 
 occupy hardly more than fifteen minutes each in their 
 representation, — slight dialogues of the broadest farce, 
 continued as long as the time between the acts would 
 conveniently permit, and then abruptly terminated to 
 give place to the principal drama.*^ A vigorous spirit, 
 and a popular, rude humor are rarely wanting in them. 
 But Lope, whenever he wrote for the theatre, seems 
 to have remembered its old foundations, and to have 
 shown a tendency to rest upon them as much as pos.- 
 sible of his own drama. This is apparent in the very 
 ent?'emeses we have just noticed. They are to be traced 
 back to Lope de Rueda, whose short farces were of the 
 same nature, and were used, after the introduction of 
 dramas of three acts, in the same way.*^'^ It is apparent, 
 too, as we have seen, in his moral and allegorical plays, 
 in his sacramental acts, and in his dramas taken from 
 the Scripture and the lives of the saints ; all founded 
 on the earlier Mysteries and Moralities. And now 
 we find the same tendency again in yet one more 
 
 60 Prinieia Parte de Entienif scs, "En- ^2 ^^11 three of these pieces are in tlie 
 
 treines Primero de Meli.sendi-a," Conic- same vohune. 
 
 dias, Tom. I., Valladolid, 1604, 4to, ^^ "Lope de Rueda," says Lope de 
 
 H'. 333, etc. It is founded on the fine Vega, "was an example of these pre- 
 
 old ballads of the Romancero of 1550- cepts in Spain ; for from him has come 
 
 1."j55, "Asentado esta Gayferos," etc. ; down the custom of calling the old pla5-s 
 
 the .same out of whidi" the puppet- Entremescs." (Obras Sueltas, Tom. IV. 
 
 sliow man made his exhibition at the p. 407.) A single scene taken out 
 
 inn before Don Quixote, Parte II. c. and used in this way as an entrcmes 
 
 26. was called a Paso or "passage." We 
 
 81 Comedias, Valladolid, 1604, Tom. have noted such by Lope de Rueda, 
 
 I. p. 337. etc. See ante, pp. 48, 53.
 
 Chap. XVII.] DRAMATIC ECLOGUES. 303 
 
 class, that of his eclogues *and pastorals, — a * 258 
 form of the drama which may be recognized at 
 least as early as the time of Juan de la Enzina. Of 
 these Lope wrote a considerable number, that are still 
 extant, — twenty or more, — not a few of which bear 
 distinct marks of their origin in that singular mixture 
 of a bucolic and a religious tone that is seen in the 
 first beginnings of a public theatre in Spain. 
 
 Some of the eclogues of Lope, w^e know, were per- 
 formed ; as, for instance, "The Wood and no Love in 
 it," — Selva sin Amor, — wdiich was represented with 
 costly pomp and much ingenious apparatus before the 
 king and the royal family.*^ Others, like seven or 
 eight in his "Pastores de Belen," and one published 
 under the name of " Tome de Burguillos," — all of 
 which claim to have been arrano-ed for Christmas and 
 ■different religious festivals, — so much resemble such 
 as we know were really performed on these occasions, 
 that we can hardly doubt that, like those just men- 
 tioned, they also were represented.^^ While yet others, 
 like the first he ever published, called the " Amorosa," 
 and his last, addressed to Philis, together with one on 
 the death of his wife, and one on the death of his son, 
 were probably intended only to be read.'^'^ But all 
 may have been acted, if we are to judge from the 
 habits of the age, when, as w^e know, eclogues never 
 destined for the stage were represented, as much 
 as if they had been expressly written for it.^' At 
 
 " Obras, Tom. I. p. 225. The seen- 463 ; Tom. X. p. 193 ; Tom. IV. p. 430 ; 
 
 ery and machines were by Cosmo and Tom. X. p. 362. The last eclogue 
 
 Lotti, a Florentine architect ; and, as contains nearly all we know about his 
 
 Stirling says, "they astonished the son, Lope Felix. 
 
 courtly audience by their beauty and ^^ See the scene in the Second Part 
 
 ingenuity." Artists of Spain, 1848, of Don Quixote, where some gentlemen 
 
 Vol. II. p. 566. and ladies, for their own entertainment 
 
 ^ Obras, Tom. XVI., prt55«H, and in the country, were about to represent 
 
 XIX. p. 278. the eclogues of Garcilasso and Camoens. 
 
 ^*' For these, see Obras, Tom. III. p. In the same way, I think, the well-
 
 304 
 
 DRAMATIC ECLOGUES. 
 
 [PrnioD 11. 
 
 * 259 any rate, all Lope's compositions of * this kind 
 show how gladly and freely his genius oxcv- 
 flowed into the remotest of the many forms of the 
 drama that were either popular or permitted in his 
 time. 
 
 known eclogue which Lope dedicated 
 to Antonio Duke of Alva, (Obras, IV. 
 J). 295, ) that to Amaryllis, wliich was 
 the longest he ever wrote, (Tom. X. p. 
 147,) that tor the Prince of Esi|uilache, 
 (Tom. I. p. 352,) and nio.st of those in 
 the "Arcadia," (Tom. VI.,) were acted, 
 and written in order to be acted. Why 
 the poem to his friend Claudio, (Tom. 
 IX. p. 355,) which is in fact an account 
 of some passages in his own life, witli 
 nothing pastoral in its tone or form, is 
 called " an eclogue," I do not know, 
 unless he went to the Greek eKXoyv; 
 
 nor will I undertake to assign to any 
 l)articiilar class the "Military Dialogue 
 in Honor of the Marquis of E.sjdnola," 
 (Tom. X. p. 337, ) though I think it is 
 dramatic in its structure, and was j>rob- 
 ably represented, on some show occa- 
 sion, before the ^Marquis himself. Such 
 representations occurred in other coun- 
 tries about the same period, but rarely, 
 1 think, of a bucolic nature. One, 
 however, is mentioned by that princi^ 
 of gossips, Tallemant des Reaux, in his 
 notice of "La Pre.sidente Perrot," as 
 l^erformed in Paris, iu a jjrivate house.
 
 *CHAPTEE XVIII. *260 
 
 LOPE DE VEGA, COXTIXUED. HIS CHARACTERISTICS AS A DRAMATIC WRITER. 
 
 HIS STORIES, CHARACTERS, AND DIALOGUE. HIS DISREGARD OF RULES, 
 
 OF HISTORICAL TRUTH, AND MORAL PROPRIETY. HIS COMIC UNDERPLOT 
 
 AND GRACIOSO. HIS POETICAL STYLE AND MANNER. HIS FITNESS TO 
 
 WIN GENERAL FAVOR. HIS SUCCESS. HIS FORTUNE, AND THE VAST 
 
 AMOUNT OF HIS WORKS. 
 
 The extraordinary variety in the character of Lope's 
 dramas is as remarkable as their number, and contrib- 
 uted not a little to render him the monarch of the 
 stage while he lived, and the great master of the 
 national theatre ever since. But though this vast 
 variety and inexhaustible fertility constitute, as it 
 were, the two great corner-stones on which his success 
 rested, still there were other circumstances attending 
 it that should b}^ no means be overlooked, when we are 
 examining, not only the surprising results themselves, 
 but the means by which they were obtained. 
 
 The first of these is the principle which may be con- 
 sidered as running through the whole of his full-length 
 plays, — that of making all other interests subordinate 
 to the interest of the story. Thus, the characters are 
 a matter evidently of inferior moment with him ; so 
 that the idea of exhibiting a single passion giving a 
 consistent direction to all the energies of a strong will, 
 as in the case of Richard the Third, or, as in the case 
 of Macbeth, distracting them all no less consistently, 
 does not occur in the whole range of his dramas. 
 Sometimes, it is true, though rarely, as in Sancho 
 Ortiz, he develops a marked and generous spirit, with 
 
 VOL. II. 20
 
 306 CHARACTER OF LOPE DE VEGA's DRAMA. [Pkuiod IL 
 
 distinctive lineaments ; but in no case is tliii^ 
 
 * 
 
 261 the * main object, and in no case is it done with, 
 the appearance of an artist-Hke skill or a delib- 
 erate 2)urpose. On the contrary a great majority of 
 his characters are almost as much standing masks as 
 Pantalone is on the Venetian stage, or Scapin on the 
 French. The jwimer r/alan, or hero, all love, honor, and 
 jealousy ; the duimi, or heroine, no less loving and 
 jealous, but yet more rash and heedless ; and the 
 ]jrother, or if not the brother, then the harba, or old 
 man and father, ready to cover the stage with blood, 
 if the lover has even been seen in the house of the 
 heroine, — tliese recur continually, and serve, not only 
 in the .secular, but often in the religious pieces, as the 
 fixed points round which the different actions, with 
 their different incidents, are made to revolve. 
 
 In the same way, the dialogue is used chiefly to 
 bring out the plot, and hardly at all to bring out the 
 characters. This is obvious in the long speeches, 
 sometimes consisting of two or three hundred verses, 
 wliich are as purely narrative as an Italian novella, and 
 often much like one ; and it is seen, too, in the crowd 
 of incidents that compose the action, Avhich not infre- 
 quently fails to find space sufficient to spread out all 
 its ingenious involutions, and make them easily intelli- 
 gible ; a difficulty of which Lope once gives his audi- 
 ence fair warning, telling them at the outset of the 
 piece, that they must not lose a syllable of the first 
 explanation, or they will certainly fail to understand 
 the curious plot that follows. 
 
 Obeying the same principle, he sacrifices regularity 
 and congruity in his stories, if he can Ijut make them 
 interesting. His longer plays, indeed, are regularly 
 divided into three jornadas, or acts ; but this, though
 
 CiiAr. XVTII.] CHARACTER OF LOPE DE VEGA's DRAMA. 307 
 
 he claims it as a iiiei'it, is not an an-angeiueiit of his 
 own invention, and is, moreover, merely an arbitrary 
 mode of producing the pauses necessary to the con- 
 venience of the actors and spectators ; panses which, 
 in Lope's theatre, have too often nothing to do with 
 the structure and proportions of the piece it- 
 self^ As for the six plays which, * as he inti- * 262 
 mates, were written according to the rules, 
 Spanish criticism has sought for them in vain;^ nor 
 do any of them, probably, exist now, if any ever 
 existed, unless " La Melindrosa " — The Prude — may 
 have been one of them. But he avows xe^y honestly 
 that he regards rules of all kinds only as obstacles to 
 his success. '" When I am going to write a play," he 
 says, " I lock up all precepts, and cast Terence and 
 Plautus out of my study, lest they should cry out 
 against me, as truth is wont to do even from such 
 dumb volumes ; for I write according to the art in- 
 vented by those who sought the applause of the mul- 
 titude, w^hom it is but just to humor in their folly, 
 since it is they who pay for it." ^ 
 
 The extent to Avhich, following this principle, Lope 
 sacrificed dramatic j)robabilities and possibilities, geog- 
 
 1 This division can be traced back to yielding to vulgar taste and popular 
 a jjlay of Francisco de Avendano, 1553. ignorance. 
 
 L. F. Moratin, Obras, 1830, Tom. I. ^ ^i-^g :N'uevo de Hacer Comedias, 
 
 Parte I. p. 182. Obras, Tom. IV. p. 406. And in the 
 
 2 "Except six," says Lope, at the Dedication of "Lo Cierto por lo Du- 
 end of his " Arte Nuevo," "all my four doso," speaking of dramas, he says: 
 hundred and eighty-three i>lays have "En Espana no tienen preceptos." 
 offended gravely against the rules [el When, however, he published the 
 arte]." See Montiano y Luyando, twelfth volume of his Comedias, 1619, 
 "Discurso sobre las Tragedias Espano- he seemed to fancy that he was writing 
 las," (Madrid, 1750, 12mo, p. 47,) and more carefully, for he says, he wrote 
 Huerta, in the Preface to his "Tcatro them not for the multitude, but for four- 
 Hespauol," for the difficulty of finding teen or fifteen people "que tuvo en su 
 even these six. In his Dorotea (Act imaginacion." It would be difficult, how- 
 III. sc. 4) Lope goes out of his way to ever, to tell how he would apply this re- 
 ridicule the precepts of art, as he calls mark to " El ilanpiesde Mantua," which 
 them ; but Figueroa (Pla^a Universal, is the seventh in the volume, or the 
 1615, f. 322, b) rebukes hun for thus " Fuente Ovtyuua," which is the last.
 
 308 CIIxVRACTER OF LOTE DE YEGA'S DRAMA. IPeuiod II. 
 
 rapliY, history, and a decent nioralit}', can be properh* 
 understood onlj- by reading a large number of his 
 plays. But a few instances will partially illustrate it. 
 In his '• First King of Castile," the events fill tlihty-six 
 years in the middle of the eleventh centur}', and a 
 Gypsy is introduced four hundred ^-ears before Gypsies 
 were known in Europe.^ The whole romantic stor^' of 
 the Seven Infantes of Lara is put into the play of 
 "Mudarra."^ In "Spotless Purity," Job, David, Jere- 
 miah, Saint John the Baptist, and the University of 
 Salamanca figure together ; ^ and in " The Birth of 
 Christ " we have, for the two extremes, the creation 
 
 of the world and the Nativity.^ So much .for 
 * 263 - history. Geography is treated * no better, 
 
 when Constantinople is declared to be four 
 thousand leagues from Madrid,^ and Spaniards are 
 made to disembark from a ship in Hungary.^ And as 
 to morals, it is not easy to tell how Lope reconciled 
 his opinions to his practice. In the Preface to the 
 twentieth volume of his Theatre, he declares, in refer- 
 ence to his own " Wise Vengeance," that its title is 
 absurd, because all revenge is unwise and imlawful ; 
 and yet it seems as if one half of his plays go to justify 
 it. It is made a merit in San Isidro, that he stole 
 his master's grain to give it to the starving birds.^*' 
 
 * "El Primer Rey de Castilla," Co- takes place in the "Animal dc Ungria" 
 madias, Tom. XVII., Madrid, 1621, ff. (Comedias, Tom. IX., Barcelona, 1618, 
 114, etc. tr. 137, 138). One is naturally re- 
 
 * "El Ba.stardo Mud arra," Comedias, minded of Shakespeare's "Winter's 
 Tom. XXIV., Zanigoza, 1641. Tale" ; hut it is curious that the Duke 
 
 * "La Limjiicza no Manchada," Co- de Luynes, a favorite minister of .state 
 medias, Tom. XIX., Madrid, 1623. to Louis XIII., made precisely the same 
 
 "" "EI Xaciniicnto de Christo," Co- mistake, at ahout the .same time, to 
 
 medias, Tom. XXIV., 2(/. si/pra. Lord Herbert of Chcrliury, then (1619- 
 
 * It is the learned Theodora, a person 1621) ambas.sador in France. But Lope 
 represented as capable of confounding certainly knew l)etter, and I doubt not 
 the knowing proR'-ssors brought to try Shakespeare did, however ignorant the 
 her, who declares Constantino[ile to be French statesman may have been. Her- 
 four thousand leagues from Madrid. La bert's Life, by him.self, London, 1809, 
 Donzella Teo<lor, end of Act II. 8vo, p. 217. 
 
 ^ Tliis extraordinary' disembarkation i" See "San Isidro Labrador," in Co-
 
 Chap. XVIII.] CHARACTER OF LOPE DE VEGA's DRAMA. 309 
 
 The prayers of Nicolas de Tolentino are accoimted 
 sufficient for the salvation of a kinsman who, after a 
 dissolute life, had died in an act of mortal sin ; ^^ 
 and the cruel and ati"ocioiis conquest of Arauco is 
 claimed as an honor to a noble family and a grace to 
 the national escutcheon. ^^ 
 
 But all these violations of the truth of fact and of 
 the commonest rules of Christian morals, of which 
 nobody was more aware than their perjoetrator, were 
 overlooked by Lope himself, and by his audiences, in 
 the general interest of the plot. A dramatized novel 
 was the form he chose to give to his plays, and he 
 succeeded in settling it as the main principle of the 
 Spanish stage. " Tales," he declares, " have the same 
 rules with dramas, the purpose of whose authors 
 is to content and please the public, * though * 264 
 the rules of art may be strangled by it." ^'^ And 
 elsewhere, when defending his opinions, he says : 
 " Keep the explanation of the story doubtful till the 
 last scene ; for, as soon as the public know how it Avill 
 end, they turn their faces to the door, and their backs 
 to the stage." ^* This had never been said before ; and 
 though some traces of intriguing plots are to be found 
 from the time of Torres de Naharro, yet nobody ever 
 thought of relying upon them, in this way, for success, 
 
 medias Escogidas, Tom. XXVIII., Ma- are heard, not only witli applause, but 
 drid, 1667, f. 66. with admiration ? " D. Quixote, Parte 
 
 11 "San Nicolas de Tolentino," Co- II. c. 26. 
 
 medias, Toin. XXIV., Zaragoza, 1641, i^ "Tienen las novelas los mismos 
 
 f. 171. preceptos que las comedias, cuyo fin es 
 
 12 " Arauco Domado," Comedias, haber dado su autor contento y gusto 
 Tom. XX., Madrid, 1629. After read- al pueblo, aunque se ahorque el arte." 
 ing such absurdities, we wonder less Obras Sueltas, Tom. VIII. p. 70. 
 
 that Cervantes, even though he com- " Arte Nuevo, Obras, Tom. IV. p. 
 mitted not a few like them himself, 412. From an autograph MS. of Lope, 
 should make the puppet-showman ex- still extant, it a])pears that he some- 
 claim, " Are not a thousand plays rc})- times wrote out his plays first in the 
 resented nowadays, full of a thousand form of pequemis iwvelas. Semauario 
 improprieties and absurdities, which Pintoresco, 1839, p. 19. 
 yet run their course successfully, and
 
 310 THE GEACIOSO. [Periuj) II. 
 
 till Lope had set the example, which his school have 
 so faithfully followed. 
 
 Another element which he established in the Span- 
 ish Drama was the comic underplot. Nearly all his 
 plaj^s, " The Star of Seville " being the only brilliant 
 exception, have it ; — sometimes in a pastoral form, 
 but generally as a simple admixture of farce. The 
 characters contained in this portion of eacli of his 
 dramas are as much standing masks as those in the 
 graver portion, and were perfectly well known under 
 the name of the f/raciosos and graciosas, or drolls, to 
 which was afterwards added the vegete}'^' or a little, old, 
 testy esquire, who is always boasting of his descent, 
 and is often employed in teasing the gracioso. In most 
 cases they constitute a parody on the dialogue and 
 adventures of the hero and heroine, as Sancho is partly 
 a parody of Don Quixote, and in most cases they are 
 the servants of the respective parties ; — the men 
 being good-humored cowards and gluttons, the women 
 mischievous and coquettish, and both full of Avit, mal- 
 ice, and an affected simplicity. Slight traces of such 
 characters are to be found on the Spanish stage as for 
 back as the servants in the " Serafina " of Torres 
 Xaharro ; and in the middle of that century, the boho. 
 or fool, figures freely in the farces of Lope de Rueda, 
 as the wnpli had done before in those of Enzina. But 
 the variously mtty gracinso, the full-blown ])arody of 
 the heroic characters of the plaj^, the dramatic picaro, 
 
 is the work of Lope de Yega. He first intro- 
 * 265 duced * it into the " Francesilla," where the 
 
 oldest of the tribe, under the name of Tristan, 
 was represented by Rios, a famous actor of his time, 
 
 ^*i Figueroa (Pasagero, 1617, f. Ill) calls the vegete "natural euemigo del 
 lacayo."
 
 CiiAV. XVlll.] THE GKACIOSO. 311 
 
 and produced a great effect ; ^^ — an event which. 
 Lope telLs us, in the Dedication of the drama itself, in 
 1620, to his friend Montalvan, occurred before that 
 friend was born, and therefore before the year 1602. 
 From this time the gracioso is found in nearly all of 
 his plays, and in nearly every other play produced on 
 the Spanish stage, from which it passed, first to the 
 French, and then to all the other theatres of modern 
 times. Excellent specimens of it may be noted in the 
 sacristan of the " Captives of Algiers," in the servants 
 of the "Saint John's Eve," and in the servants of the 
 " Ugly Beauty " ; in all which, as well as in many 
 more, the gracmo is skilfully turned to account, by 
 being made partly to ridicule the heroic extravagances 
 and rhodomontade of the leading personages, and 
 partly to shield the author himself from rebuke by 
 good-humoredly confessing for him that he was quite 
 aware he deserved it. Of such we may say, as Don 
 Quixote did, when speaking of the whole class to 
 the Bachelor Samson Carrasco, that they are the 
 shrewdest fellows in their respective plays. But of 
 others, whose ill-advised wit is inopportunely thrust, 
 
 1^ See the Deilieation of the "France- hy Lopez Piiioiaiio, who, in his " Filo- 
 
 silla" to Juiin Perez de Montalvan, in sofia Antigua Poetiea," (1596, p. 402,) 
 
 Comedias, Tom. XIII., Madrid, 1620, says, "They are characters that coni- 
 
 where we have the following words : monly anmse more than any others that 
 
 "And note in passing that this is the appear in the plays." The (jrncioso of 
 
 first play in which was introduced the Lope was, like the rest of his theatre;, 
 
 character of the jester, which has been founded on what existed before his 
 
 so often repeated since. Eios, unique time ; only the character itself was 
 
 in all parts, played it, and is worthy further developed, and received a new 
 
 of this record. I pray you to read it jiame. D. QuLxote, Clemencin, Parte 
 
 as a new thing ; for when I wrote it 11. cap. 3, note. 
 
 you were not born." The gracioso was But he was eminently in th(^ national 
 
 generally distinguished by his name on taste, and rose, at once, in Lope's hands, 
 
 the Spanish stage, as he was afterwards to be an important personage. When 
 
 on the French stage. Thus, Calderon the Persiles and Sigismnndo was writ- 
 
 often calls his gracwso Clarin, or Trum- ten, this personage was considered alto- 
 
 ])et ; as Moliere called his Sganarelle. gether indispensable, as we can see from 
 
 The simple, who, as I have said, can be the humorous tnoubles occa.sioned by the 
 
 traced back to Enzina, and who was, absolute necessity of introducing one 
 
 no doubt, the same with the hoho, is into a play in which such a figure could 
 
 mentioned as very successful, in 1596, find no proper place. Lib. III. c. 2.
 
 312 LOl'E DE YEGA's VERSIFICATION. [Peuiod II. 
 
 with their foolscaps and baubles, into the gravest and 
 most tragic scenes of pla3^s like •"• Marriage in Death," 
 we can only avow, that, though they were demanded 
 by the taste of the age, nothing in any age can suffice 
 
 for their justification. 
 * 266 * An important circumstance which should 
 
 not be overlooked, when considering' the means 
 oi Lope's great success, is his poetical style, the metres 
 he adopted, and especially the use he made of the 
 elder poetry of his country. In all these respects, he 
 is to be praised ; always excepting the occasions when, 
 to obtain universal applause, he permitted himself the 
 use of that obscure and affected style which the courtly 
 part of his audience demanded, and which he himself 
 elsewhere condemned and ridiculed.^'^ 
 
 No doubt, indeed, much of his power over the mass 
 of the people of his time is to be sought in the charm 
 that belonged to his versification ; not infrequently 
 careless, but almost always fresh, flowing, and effec- 
 tive. Its variety, too, was remarkable. No metre of 
 which the language was susceptible escaped him. The 
 Italian octave stanzas jire frequent ; the term lima, 
 though more sparingly used, occurs often ; and hardly 
 a play is without one or more sonnets. All this was 
 to please the more fiishionable and cultivated among 
 his audience, who had long been enamored of what- 
 ever was Italian ; and though some of it was unhappy 
 
 1® The specimens of liis Itnd taste in plmistical follies in his Obras Sueltas, 
 
 this particular occur but too frequently ; Tom. IV. pp. 4.'>9-48'2; and the jests 
 
 e. g. in " El Cuerdo en .su Casa" (Co- at their expense in his "Amista<l y Oh- 
 
 uiedias, Tom. VI., Madrid, 1615, IT. lisacion," and his " Melindres de Beli- 
 
 10.",, etc.); in the "Nina de Plata" sa " (Comedi;i.s, Tom. IX., Barcelona, 
 
 (Comedias, Tom. IX., Barcelona, 1618, 1618). 
 
 If. 125, etc.) ; in tlie "Caiitivos de Ar- As a j^eneral remark, Lojte's language 
 
 gel" (Comedia-s, Tom. XXV., Zaragoza, is natuml, pure, and idiomatic. Varga,s 
 
 1647, p. 241); and in other places. y Ponce (Declamacion, p. 23) is too 
 
 But in opposition to all this, see his strong, when he says that it is always 
 
 deliberate condemnation of such eu- so.
 
 CiiAi'. XVI II. J 1118 USE OF BALLADS. 313 
 
 enough, like sonnets with echoes/' it was all fluent 
 and all successful. 
 
 Still, as far as his verse was concerned, — besides 
 the silvas, or masses of irregular lines, the <jmntUlas^ or 
 live-line stanzas, and the li/ris, or six-line, — he relied, 
 above everything else, upon the old national ballad- 
 measure ; — both the proper romauce, with mo- 
 nantes, *and the redoiidiiia, with rhymes between * 267 
 the first and fourth lines and between the sec- 
 ond and third. In this he was nnquestionably right. 
 The earliest attempts at dramatic representation in 
 Spain had been somewhat lyrical in their tone, and. 
 the more artificial forms of verse, therefore, especially 
 those with short lines interposed at regnlar intervals, 
 had been used by Juan de la Enzina, by Torres Na- 
 harro, and by others ; though, latterly, in these, as in 
 many respects, much confusion had been introduced 
 into Spanish dramatic poetry. But Lope, making his 
 drama more narrative than it had been before, settled 
 it at once and finally on the true national narrative 
 measure. He went further. He introduced into it 
 much old ballad-poetry, and many separate ballads of 
 his own composition. Thus, in '' The Sun Delayed," 
 the Master of Santiago, who has lost his way, stops 
 and sings a ballad ; ^^ and in his " Poverty no Dis- 
 grace," he has inserted a beautiful one, beginning, — 
 
 " Sonnets seem to have beena sort de Plata," (Comedias, Tom. IX., Bar- 
 
 of choice morsels thrown in to please celona, 1618, f. 124,) is witty, and has 
 
 the over-refined portion of the audience. been imitated in French and in English. " 
 
 In general, only one or two occur in a Figueroa, (Pasagero, 1617, f. HI), in 
 
 play; but in the " Discreta Venganza " ridicule of the ])ractice, .says you must 
 
 (Comedias, Tom. XX., Madiid, 1629) not put more than seven sonnets into a 
 
 there are five. In the " Palacios de play. But sonnets, as ornaments, are 
 
 Galiana" (Comedias, Tom. XXIIL, Ma- known in the drama of other countries, 
 
 drid, 1638, f. 256) there is a foolisli Sliakespeare has tliem, e. g. in the 
 
 sonnet with echoes, and another in the heartbrokeii letter of Helen to her 
 
 " Historia de Tobias" (Comedias, Tom. mother-in-law, "All 's Well that Ends 
 
 XV., Madrid, 1621, f. 244). The .son- Well," Act HI. sc. 4. 
 net in ridicule of sonnets, in the "Nina '** " El Sol I'arado," Comedias, Tom.
 
 314 LOPE DE VEGAS MATERIALS. [PEi:iuD IL 
 
 noble Spanish cavalier, 
 
 You hasten to the tight ; 
 The trumpet rings upon your ear, 
 And victory claims her right, i'' 
 
 Probably, however, he produced a still greater effect 
 when he brought in passages, not of his own, but 
 of old and well-known ballads, or allusions to them. 
 Of these his i)lays are full. For instance, his '*• Sun 
 Delayed," and his '^ Envy of Nobility," are all redolent 
 of the Morisco ballads that were so much admired in 
 his time ; the first taking those that relate to the loves 
 of Gazul and Zayda,^ and the last those from the 
 
 '' Civil Wars of Granada," about the wild feuds 
 *208 of the Zeo-ris and the * Abencerrages.-^ Hai'dlv 
 
 less marked is the use he makes of the old bal- 
 lads on Roderic, in his " Last Goth " ; "^ of those con- 
 cerning the Infantes of Lara, in his several plays 
 relating to their tragical story ; ^^ and of those about 
 Bernardo del Carpio, in " Marriage and Death." ^ Oc- 
 casionally, the effect of their introduction must have 
 been very great. Thus, when, in his drama of '^ Santa 
 Fe," crowded with the achievements of Hernando del 
 
 XVII., Madrid, 1621, pp. 218, 219. "^'^ For example, the ballad in the Ro- 
 
 It reminds one of the mucli more beau- mancero of 1555, l)eginning "Despues 
 
 tiful serraiui of the Maniuis of Santil- (lue el Key Rodrigo," at the end of Jor- 
 
 lana, beginning " Moza tan fomiosa," nada II., in "El Ultimo Godo," Come- 
 
 anie. Vol. I. p. 3.36 and note. But it dia.s, Tom. XXV., Zaragoza, 1647. 
 
 is too free. '^ Compare "ElBa.stardo Mudarra" 
 
 19 " Pobrezaiioes Vileza," Comedias, (Comedias, Tom. XXIV., Zaragoza, 
 Tom. XX., Madrid, 1629, f. 61. 1641, ff. 75, 76) with the ballads "Ruy 
 
 20 He has even ventured to take the ' Velasquez de Lara," and " Llegados son 
 beautiful and familiar ballad, " Sale la los Infantes"; and, in the same play, 
 E.strella de Venus," — which is in the the dialogue between Mudan'a and his 
 Romancero General, the "Guerras de mother, (f. 83,^ with the ballad, "Sen- 
 Granada," and many other places, — tados a un ajedrez." 
 
 and work it up into a dialogue. "El ^ "El Casamiento en la Muerte," 
 
 Sol Para.lo," t'oniedias, Tom. XVII., (Comedias, Tom. 1., Valladolid, 1604, 
 
 Madrid, 1621, ft'. 223, 224. flf. 198, etc.,) in which tiie following 
 
 ^1 In the same way he .seizes upon well-known old ballails are freely used, 
 
 th„ old ballad, " Reduan bien .se te viz. : " Belerma ! O Belemia ! " "No 
 
 acuerda," and u.ses it in the " Eiiibidia tiene heredero alguno"; "Al ])ie de un 
 
 dela Nobleza,"Comedi;is, Tiini. XXIII., tuiiiulo negro"; "Baiiando esta las pri- 
 
 Madrid, 1638, f. 192. -iones" ; and others.
 
 Chai'. XVIII.] niS POPULARITY. 315 
 
 Piilgar, Garcilasso do la Vega, and whatever was most 
 glorious and imposing in the siege of Granada, one of 
 his personages breaks out with a variation of the famil- 
 iar and grand old ballad, — 
 
 Now Santa Fe is circled round 
 
 With canvas walls so fair, 
 And tents that cover all the ground 
 
 With silks and velvets rare,"'^^ — • 
 
 it must have stirred his audience as with the sound of 
 a trumpet. 
 
 Indeed, in all respects, Lope well understood how 
 to Avin the general favor, and how to build up and 
 strengthen his fortunate position as the lead- 
 ing dramatic poet of * his time. The ancient * 269 
 foundations of the theatre, as far as they existed 
 when he appeared, were little disturbed by him. He 
 carried on the drama, he says, as he found it ; not ven- 
 turing to observe the rules of art, because, if he had 
 done so, the public never would have listened to 
 him.-*' The elements that were floating about, crude 
 and unsettled, he used freely ; but only so far as they 
 suited his general purpose. The division into three 
 acts, known so little, that he attributed it to Virues, 
 though it was made much earlier ; the ballad-measure, 
 
 25 It is in the last chapter of the and the capitulation of Granada. The 
 "Guerras Civiles de Granada"; hut imitation of this ballad by Lope is in 
 Lope has given it, -with a slight change his "Cerco de Santa Fe," Comedias, 
 in the phraseology, as follows : — Tom. I., Valladolid, 1604, f. 69. For 
 Cercada esta Sancta F6 an account of Santa Fe, which was vis- 
 Con mueho lieiK^o encerado ; ited by Navagiero in 1526, see his Vi- 
 Y al rededor mucha-s tiendas ^ggio, 156-3, f. 18. It is now mUch 
 De terciopelo y damasco. -I^p ', , i t, , i •. tt 
 
 dilapidated, it took its name, Have- 
 It occurs in many collections of ballads, niann says, from the b(dief that it was 
 and is founded on the fact, that a sort the onlj' city in Spain where no Moslem 
 of village of rich tents was established jjrayer had ever been offered, 
 near Granada, which, after an acciden- ^'^ He says this apparently as a kind 
 tal conflagration, was turned into a of apology to foreigners, in the Preface 
 town, that still exists, within whose to the " Peregiino en .su Patria," 1603, 
 walls were signed both the commission M'here he gives a list of his plays to 
 of Columbus to seek the New World, that date.
 
 316 HIS POPULARITY. [Pkriod II. 
 
 which had been timidly used by Tarrega and two 
 or three others, but relied upon by nobod\' ; the in- 
 triguing storj' and the amusing underplot, of which the 
 slight traces that existed in Torres Naharro had been 
 long forgotten, — all these he seized with the instinct 
 of genius, and fonned from them, and from the abun- 
 dant and rich inventions of his own overflowing:: fancv, 
 a drama which, as a Avhole, was unlike anything that 
 had preceded it, and yet was so truly national, and 
 rested so faithfully on tradition, that it was never 
 afterwards disturbed, till the whole literature, of which 
 it was so brilliant a part, was swept away with it. 
 
 Lope de Yega's immediate success, as we have seen, 
 was in proportion to his great powers and ftivorable 
 opportunities. For a long time, nobody else was will- 
 ingly heard on the stage ; and during the whole of 
 the forty or fifty years that he wrote for it, he stood 
 quite unapproached in general f)opularity. His un- 
 numbered plays and farces, in all the forms that Avere 
 demanded by the fashions of the age, or permitted by 
 religious authority, filled the theatres both of the cap- 
 ital and the provinces ; and so extraordinary was the 
 impulse he gave to dramatic representations, that, 
 though there were onlj^ two companies of strolling 
 players at Madrid when he began, there were, about 
 the period of his death, no less than forty, compre- 
 hending nearly a thousand persons.^ 
 *270 * Abroad, too, his fame was hardly less re- 
 markable. In Rome, Naples, and Milan, his 
 dramas were performed in their original language; 
 in France and Italy, his name was announced in order 
 to fill the theatres when no play of his was to be per- 
 
 ^ See the curious facts collected on Quixote, ed. 1798, Parte II., Tom. L 
 tills subject in Pellicer's note to Don \>it. 109-111.
 
 Chap. XVIII.] 
 
 niS POPULARITY. 
 
 
 formed ;^^ and once even, and prob.ably oftener, one 
 of his dramas was represented in the seragho at 
 Constantinople.^ But perhaps neither all this popu- 
 larity, nor yet the crowds that followed hiiu in the 
 streets and gathered in the balconies to watch him as 
 he passed along,'^'^ nor the name of Lope, that was 
 given to whatever was esteemed singularly good in 
 its kind,^^ is so striking a proof of his dramatic suc- 
 cess as the fact, so often complained of by himself 
 and his friends, that multitudes of his plaj's were 
 fraudulently noted down as they were acted, and 
 then printed for profit throughout Spain ; and that 
 multitudes of other plays appeared under his name, 
 and were represented all over the provinces, that he 
 had never even heard of till they were published or 
 performed. ^^ 
 
 ^ This is stated by the well-known 
 Italian poet, Marini, in his Eulogy on 
 Lope, Obias Sueltas, Tom. XXI. ik 19. 
 His plays were often })rinted in Italj'^ 
 while he was living and after his deatii. 
 I have a copy of a neat edition of his 
 " Vellocino de Oro," published at Milan 
 in 1649. 
 
 ^9 Obras Sueltas, Tom. VIII. pp. 
 94-96, and Pellicer's note to Don 
 Quixote, Parte I., Tom. III. p. 93. 
 One of his plays was translated into 
 German in 1652, by Grefflinger, a poor 
 author of that period ; but, in general, 
 Spanish literature was little regarded 
 in Gei many in the seventeenth century. 
 The Thirty Years' War made it dis- 
 tasteful. 
 
 '^ This is said in a discourse preached 
 over his mortal remains in St. Sebas- 
 tian's, at his funeral. Obras Sueltas, 
 Tom. XIX. p. 329. 
 
 "*! ' ' Frey Lope Felix de Vega, whose 
 name has become universally a proverb 
 for whatever is good," says Quevedo, in 
 his Aprobacion to ' ' Tome de Burguillos. " 
 (Obras Sueltas de Lope, Tom. XIX. p. 
 xix.) "It became a common proverb 
 to praise a good thing by calling it a 
 Lope; so that jewels, diamonds, pic- 
 tures, etc., were raised into esteem by 
 calling them his," says Montalvan. 
 
 (Obras Sueltas, Tom. XX. p. 53.) Cer- 
 vantes intimates the same thing in his 
 cntreiiies, "La Guarda Cuidadosa." 
 
 ^- His complaints on the subject be- 
 gin as early as 1603, before he had pub- 
 lished any of his plays himself, (Obras 
 Sueltas, Tom. V. p. xvii, ) and are re- 
 newed in the " Egloga a Claudio," 
 (n>id., Tom. IX. p. 369,) printed after 
 his death ; besides which they occur in 
 the Prefaces to his Comedias, (Tom. 
 IX., XL, XIIL, XV., XXL, and else- 
 where,) as a matter that seems to have 
 been always troubling him. I have 
 one of these spurious publications. It 
 is entitled " Las Comedias del Famoso 
 Poeta, Lope de Vega Carpio, recopiladas 
 por Bernardo Grassa, ec, Ano 1626, 
 QaragO(;a, 4to, ff. 289. Eleven Loas 
 open this curious volume, nearly all of 
 them ending with an earnest re(]uest 
 for silence ; and it contains twelve 
 plays, being, in fact, an im])erfeot and 
 irregular reprint of the lirst volume of 
 the "Comedias." 
 
 An amusing story is told by P'igu- 
 er^a (Pla9a Universal, 1615, f. 237, a) 
 of the way in which plays were some- 
 times stolen. He says that tliere was 
 a gentleman by the name of Luis Kami- 
 rez de Arellano, (the same j)erson, I 
 suppose, who was one of the secre-
 
 318 
 
 HIS INCOME AND roVEKTY 
 
 [Pekiod II. 
 
 A large income naturally followed such popularitj;. 
 
 for his plays were liberally paid for by the ac- 
 *271 tors;^ and he * had patrons of a munificence 
 
 unknown in our days, and always undesira))le.** 
 But he was thriftless and wasteful, exceedingly char- 
 itable, and, in hospitality to his friends, prodigal. He 
 was, therefore, almost always embarrassed. At the 
 end of his "Jerusalem," printed as early as 1609, he 
 complains of the pressure of his domestic aftairs;*^ and 
 in his old age he addressed some verses, in the nature 
 of a petition, to the still more thriftless Philip the 
 Fourth, asking the means of living for himself and 
 his daughter.'^*^ After his death, his poverty was fully 
 admitted l)y his executor ; and yet, considering the 
 relative value of mone}', no poet, jDcrhaps, ever re- 
 ceived so large a compensation for his works. 
 
 taries to the Count de Lemos,) who 
 could carry off a whole play after hear- 
 ing it three times, and actually did it 
 in the cases of the "Dama Boba" and 
 the "Principe Perfeto," well-known 
 dramas of Lope de Vega. This, of 
 course, was very annoying. On one 
 occasion, therefore, when the " Galan 
 de la ilenibrilla " — which is in the 
 tenth volume of Lope's plays, with a 
 sharp, satirical j)reface — was repre- 
 senting, Sanchez, a well-known autor 
 and actor of the time, so mutilated his 
 part that the offended audience cried 
 out upon him to know the reason 
 of his conduct, to which he replied 
 that there was a person present, point- 
 ing him out, who would cany off the 
 whole play in his memory, if it were 
 not altered. The con.sequence was that, 
 after some uproar, Luis de Arellano was 
 compelled to leave the theatre. Figu- 
 eroa says that he was present and wit- 
 nessed this strange scene. Lope de 
 Vega, alluding to this mode of stealing 
 plays, says there were two persons espe- 
 eially skilful in it, one of whom was 
 called by the j)0pulace (el vulgo) " Me- 
 morilla," and the other "Oran Meino- 
 ria." "A esto se ahade el hurtar las 
 comedias estos i|ue llanian el vulgo al 
 ano Memorilld y al otro (rmn Memorui 
 \os qaales con olgur/os ^-crsos que apren- 
 
 den niezclau inlinitos suyos barbaros, 
 con que ganan la vida, vendiendolas," 
 ec. Coniedias, Parte XIII. , Madrid, 
 1620, Prologo. 
 
 ^ Montalvan sets the price of each 
 play at five hundred reals, and sa3-s 
 that in this way Lope received, during 
 his life, eighty thousand ducats. Obras, 
 Tom. XX. p. 47. 
 
 ^ The Duke of Sessa alone, besides 
 many other benefactions, gave Lope, 
 at different times, twenty -four thousand 
 ducats, and a .sinecure of three hundred 
 more per annum, i^t supra. 
 
 ^ Libro XX., last three .stanzas. 
 Again in 1620, dedicating his " Ver- 
 dadero Amante " to his son Lope, who 
 showed poetical asjiirations, he alleges 
 his own examjde to warn his child 
 never to indulge his taste for verse, 
 adding, ' ' I have, as you know, a poor 
 house, and my bed and board are no 
 better." 
 
 ^ "I have a daughter, and am old," 
 he says. "The Muses give me honor, 
 but not income," etc. (Obra.s, Tom. 
 XVII. p. 401.) From his will it ap- 
 pears that Philip IV. jiromised an office 
 to the person who .should marry this 
 daughter, and failed to keej) lii.s word. 
 See note at the end of Chap. XIV., 
 ante, where in Lope's will is a notice of 
 this claim on the king.
 
 Chap. XVllL] SPIRIT OF IMrilOVlSATlOX. 319 
 
 It sliould, however, be remembered, that no other 
 poet ever wrote so much witli popular effect. For, if 
 we begin wdth his dramatic compositions, whicli are 
 the best of his efforts, and go down to his epics, which, 
 on the whole, are the worst,^' we shall find the {imount 
 of what was received with favor, as it came from the 
 press, quite unparalleled. And when to this we are 
 compelled to add his own assurance, just before his 
 death, that the greater part of his Avorks still remained 
 in manuscript,^^ we pause in astonishment, and, 
 * before we are able to believe the account, de- * 272 
 mand some explanation that shall make it cred- 
 ible ; — an explanation wdiich is the more important, 
 because it is the key to much of his personal character, 
 as well as of his poetical success. And it is this. No 
 poet of any considerable reputation ever had a genius 
 so nearly related to that of an improvisator, or ever in- 
 dulged his genius so freely in the spirit of improvisation. 
 This talent has always existed in the southern coun- 
 tries of Europe ; and in Spain has, from the first, pro- 
 duced, in different ways, the most extraordinary results. 
 We owe to it the invention and perfection of the old 
 ballads, which were originally improvisated and then 
 preserved by tradition ; and we owe to it the seguidiUas, 
 the boleros, and all the other forms of popular poetry 
 
 ^^ Like some other distinguished au- where he says, "The printed part of 
 thors, however, he was inclined to un- my writings, though too much, is small, 
 dervalue what he did most happily, compared with what remains unpub- 
 and to prefer what is least worthy of lished." (Obras Sueltas, Tom. IX. p. 
 preference. Thus, in the Preface to his 369.) Indeed, we know we have; hardly 
 'Comedias, (Vol. XV., Madrid, 1621,) a fourth part of his full-length plays; 
 he shows that he preferred his longer only about thirty uutos out of four 
 poems to his plays, which he says he hundred ; only twenty or thirty cntrc- 
 holds but "as the wild-flowers of his 7/ic,se.s out of the "infinite number" as- 
 field, that grow up without care or cribed to him. Pacheco, in liis notice 
 culture." of Lope, printed in 1609, .says that his 
 
 ** This might be inferred from the works would give an average of three 
 
 •account in Montalvan's " Fama Postu- sheets [tres pliegos] for every day of 
 
 ma" ; but Lope himself declares it his life to that time. Obras Sueltas, 
 
 distinctly in the " Egloga a Claudio," Tom. XIV. p. xxxi.
 
 320 SriRlT OF iMrKUVl.^ATlON. [Period IL 
 
 that still exist in Spain, and are daily poured forth by 
 the fervent imaginations of the uncultivated classes of 
 the people, and sung to the national music, that some- 
 times seems to fill the air by night as the light of the 
 sun does by day. 
 
 In the time of Lope de Vega, the passion for such 
 improvisation had risen higher than it ever rose before, 
 if it had not spread out more widely. Actors were ex- 
 pected sometimes to improvisate on themes given to 
 them b}' the audience.'^ Extemporaneous dramas, with 
 all the varieties of verse demanded b}^ a taste fonned 
 in the theatres, were not of rare occurrence. PJiilip 
 the Fourth. L()])e"s patron, had such })erformed in his 
 presence, and bore a part in them himself.*^ And the 
 famous Count de Lemos, the viceroy of Xa])les, to 
 whom Cervantes was indeljted for so umcli kindness, 
 kept, as an apanage to his viceroyalty, a poetical court, 
 of which the two Argensolas were the chief ornaments, 
 and in which extemporaneous plays were acted with 
 
 brilliant success.*^ 
 * 273 * Lope de Vega's talent was undoubtedly of 
 near kindred to this genius of improvisation, 
 and produced its extraordinary results by a similar 
 process, and in the same spirit. He dictated verse, we 
 are told, with ease, more rapidly than an amanuensis 
 could take it down;*^ and wrote out an entire play in 
 two days, which could wiili (lilliciilly be transcribed by 
 a copyist in the same time. He was not absolutely 
 
 ^ BLsbe y Viilal, " Tratado de Come- narrative by Diego, Duke of Estrada, 
 
 dia«," (1618, f. 102,) speaks of the giving an account of one of these en- 
 
 " glosses which tlie actors make ex- t^^rtainnients, (a burles<jue play on the 
 
 tempore upon lines given to them on story of Orpheus and Eurydice,) per- 
 
 the stage." , formed l)efare the viceroy and hi« court. 
 
 *^' Viardot, Etudes sur la Litterature The Count de Lemos, a very accom- 
 
 en Esy»agne, Paris, 18.3.*}, 8vo, ]». 3.39. plished statesman, died in 1622, and 
 
 ^' Pellicer, Bibliot^-ea de Traduetores there Ls an agreeable life of him in Bar- 
 
 Esjiaholes, (Madrid, 1778, 4to, Tom. I. rera, ad verb. 
 Jip. 89 - 91,) in which there is a curious *'^ Obras Sueltas, Tom. XX. pp. 51, 5Z
 
 Cn.u'. XVIII.] SPIRIT OF IMPROVISATION. 321 
 
 an improvisator, for his education and position natu- 
 rally led liini to devote himself to written composition, 
 l)ut he was continually on the borders of whatever 
 belongs to an improvisator's peculiar pn)vince ; he was 
 oontniualh' showing, in his merits and defects, in his 
 ease, grace, and sudden resource, in his wildness and 
 extravagance, in the happiness of his versification and 
 the prodigal al)un(lnnce of his imagery, that a very 
 little more freedom, a verv little more indulgence 
 given to his feelings and his fanc}', would have made 
 him at once and entirely, not only an improvisator, but 
 the most remarkable one that ever lived. 
 
 21
 
 *274 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX, 
 
 QrETEDO. HIS LIFE, PUBLIC SERVICE, AXD PERSECUTIONS. HIS WOKK8» 
 
 PUBLISHED AXD UXPUBLISHED. HIS POETRY. THE BACHILLER FRAX- 
 
 CISCO DE LA TORRE. HIS PROSE WORKS, RELIGIOUS AXD DIDACTIC. 
 
 HIS PAUL THE SHARPER, PROSE SATIRES, AXD VISIOXS. HIS CHARACTER. 
 
 Fraxcisco Gomez de Queyedo y Villegas. the 
 contemporarY of both Lope de Vega and CerYantes, 
 was born at Madrid, in 1580.^ His family came from 
 that mountainous region at the northwe.^t. to which, 
 like other Spaniards, he was well pleased to trace his 
 origin ; - but his father held an office of some dig- 
 nity at the com't of Philip the Second, which led to 
 
 1 A diffuse life of Queyedo was pub- 
 lished at Madrid, in 166-3, bj- Dou Pa- 
 blo Antonio de Tarsia, a Neapolitan, 
 and is inserted in the tenth volume of 
 the edition of ,Quevedo's Works, by 
 Sancha, Madrid, 1791-1794, 11 torn., 
 Svo. A shorter, and, on the whole, a 
 more .satisfactory, life of him is to be 
 found in Baena, Hijos de Madrid, Tom. 
 II. j.p. 1.37-154; but the be.st is the 
 one prefixed to the collection of Queve- 
 do's Works, the first and second vol- 
 umes of which are in the Biblioteca de 
 Autores Esfianoles, (Tom. XXIII., 1852, 
 and Tom. XLYIII., 1859,) and edited 
 with exti-aordinarj' knowledge of what- 
 ever relates to its .subject, by Don Au- 
 reliano Fernandez Guerra y Orbe. It 
 is only to be regretted that this work 
 has not yet (1859) been continued, but 
 I trust it will be. No Sjianish author 
 will lietter reward care and diligence in 
 explanatory notes than Quevedo, and 
 none needs them more. I must Ije j>er- 
 mitted to add, that I do not accept all 
 Don Aureliano's conclusions, such, for 
 instance, as that Quevedo in all he 
 wrote, even in his Suehos, had n})oJ)iicnl 
 purpose in view. See pj>. x, xv, and xxi. 
 
 - In his "Grandes Anales de Quince 
 Dias," speaking of the j»owerful Presi- 
 dent Acevedo, he says : "I was unwel- 
 come to him, because, coming myself 
 from the mountains, I never flattered 
 the ambition he had to make himself 
 out to be above men to whom we, in 
 our own home^, acknowledge no supe- 
 riors." Obras, Tom. XI. p. 63. 
 
 An anecdote will show how much 
 was thought of this mountain spirit of 
 honor, which was su]ipo.s(-d to descend 
 from the days of Pelayo, when the 
 mountain country alone kept its loyaltj- 
 and faith. After Philip lY. had en- 
 tered Pamplona, 23d April, 1646, he 
 called to him the Manjuis of Carpio, 
 who bore the sword of state, and 
 sheathed it with his own royal hands, 
 because, as he declared, in that king- 
 dom it was not needed: "thus," says 
 the contemjKjrari' account, " giving 
 those altout liirn to understand that 
 all the men of Navarre were faithful 
 and loyal." Ilelacion embiada de Pam- 
 plona de la Entrada <jue hizo su Ma- 
 gestad en aquella Ciudad. Sevilla, 1646, 
 4to, pp. 4.
 
 Chai'. XIX.] FRANCISCO DE QUEVEDO. 323 
 
 his residence * in the capital at the period of * 275 
 liis son'.s birth ; — a circumstance which was no 
 doubt favorable to the development of the young 
 man's talents. But whatever were his opportunities, 
 we know that, when he was fifteen years old, he was 
 graduated in theology at the University of Alcala, 
 where he not only made himself master of such of the 
 ancient and modern languages as woidd Ije most useful 
 to him, but extended his studies into the civil and 
 canon law, mathematics, medicine, politics, and other 
 still more various branches of knowledge, showing that 
 he was thus early possessed with the ambition of be- 
 coming a universal scholar. His accumulations, in fact, 
 were vast, as the learning scattered through his works 
 plainly proves, and bear witness, not less to his ex- 
 treme industry than to his extraordinary natural en- 
 dowments. 
 
 On his return to Madrid, he seems to have been 
 associated both with the distinguished scholars and 
 with the fashionable cavaliers of the time ; and an 
 adventure, in which, as a man of honor, he found him- 
 self accidentally involved, had w^ellnigh proved fatal 
 to his better aspirations. A woman of respectable 
 appearance, while at her devotions in one of the 
 parish churches of Madrid, during Holy Week, was 
 grossly insulted in his presence. He defended her, 
 though both jDarties w^ere quite unknown to him. A 
 duel followed on the spot ; and, at its conclusion, it 
 was found he had killed a person of rank.* He fled, 
 of course, and, taking refuge in Sicily, was invited to 
 the splendid court then held there by the Duke of 
 Ossuna, viceroy of Philip the Third, and was soon 
 afterwards employed in important affairs of state, 
 . — sometimes, as we are told by his nephew, in such
 
 324 FIIAXCI.SCO DE QUEVEDO. [Peiuod II. 
 
 as required personal courage and involved danger to 
 
 his life.'^ 
 * 276 *At the conclusion of the Duke of Ossuna's 
 administration of Sicily, Quevedo was sent, in 
 1615, to Madrid, as a sort of plenipotentiary to confirm 
 to the crown all past grants of revenue from the island, 
 and to offer still further subsidies. So welcome a mes- 
 senger was not ungraciously received. His former 
 offence was overlooked ; a pension of four hundred 
 ducats was given him ; and he returned, in great 
 honor, to the Duke, his patron, who was already trans- 
 ferred to the more important and agreeable viceroyalty 
 of Naples. 
 
 Quevedo now became minister of finance at Naples, 
 and fulfilled the duties of his place so skilfully and 
 honestly, that, without increasing the burdens of the 
 people, he added to the revenues of the state. An 
 important negotiation with Rome was also intrusted 
 to his management; and in 1617 he was again in 
 Madrid, and stood l^efore the king with such favor, 
 that he was made a knight of the Order of Santiago. 
 On his return to Naples, or at least during the nine 
 years he was absent from Spain, he made treaties with 
 Venice and Savoy, as well as with the Pope, and was 
 almost constantly occupied in difficult and delicate 
 affairs connected with the administration of the Duke 
 of Ossuna. 
 
 But in 1620 all tliis was changed. The Duke fell 
 
 ' I think his life was in greater dan- niantic that its reality has sometimes 
 
 ger somewhat later, — at Venice in been doubted. He -svas subsequent- 
 
 161S, — wlien, by means of his per- ly burnt in effigy, after the fashion 
 
 feet Venetian accent, he escaped, in of the Impisition, by order of the 
 
 the disguise of a beggar, from the offi- Venetian Senate, but he was not, I 
 
 cers of justice, who pursued liiin as one think, guilty of the particular offence 
 
 involved in the conspiracy which St. they imputed to him ; a matter, no 
 
 Real, Lafosse, and Otway have rendered doubt, of small consequence in their 
 
 classit^l, but wliieh is so wild and ro- eyes.
 
 Chap. XIX. J FRANCISCO DE QUEVEDO. 325 
 
 from power, and those who had been his ministers 
 shared his fate. Quevedo was exiled to his patrimonial 
 estate of Torre de Juan Abad, where and elsewhere he 
 endured an imprisonment or detention of two years 
 and a half; and then was released without trial and 
 without having had any definite offence laid to his 
 charge. He was, however, cured of all desire for pub- 
 lic honors or royal favor. He refused the place of 
 Secretary of State, and that of Ambassador to Genoa, 
 both of which were offered him, accepting the merely 
 titular rank of Secretary to the King. He, in fact, was 
 now determined to give himself to letters ; and did so 
 for the rest of his life. But though he never took 
 office, lie occasionally mingled in the political dis- 
 cussions of his time, as may be seen in his " Tira la 
 Piedra," which is on the debasement of the coin 
 (already sternly rebuked by * Mariana) ; in his * 277 
 "Memorial de St. lago," which cost him an exile 
 of several months in 1628 ; and in his letter to Louis 
 the Thirteenth on the war of 163-5. Others of his minor 
 works show that such interests always tempted him. 
 
 In 1634 he was married ; but his wife soon died, 
 and left him to contend alone with the troubles of 
 life that still pursued him. In 1639 some satirical 
 verses were placed under the king's napkin at dinner- 
 time ; and, without proper inquiry, they were attrib- 
 uted to Quevedo. In consequence of this he w^as 
 seized, late at night, with great suddenness and se- 
 crecy, in the palace of the Duke of Medina-Coeli, and 
 thrown into rigorous confinement in the royal con- 
 vent of San Marcos de Leon. There, in a damp and 
 unwholesome cell, his health was soon Ijroken down 
 by diseases from which he never recovered ; and the 
 little that remained to him of his property was wasted
 
 326 FIIAXCISCO DE QUEVEDO. [Pei;iod II. 
 
 away till he was obliged to depend on charity for sup- 
 port. "With all these cruelties the unprincipled favor- 
 ite of the time, the Count Duke Olivares, seems to 
 have been connected ; and the anger they naturally 
 excited in the mind of Quevedo may well account for 
 two papers against that minister which have generally 
 been attributed to him, and which are full of personal 
 severity and 1)itterness.^ A heart-rendino; letter, too, 
 which, when he had been nearly two jears in prison, 
 he wrote to Olivares, should be taken into the account, 
 in which he in vain appeals to his persecutor s sense of 
 justice, telling him, in his despair, '• No clemency can 
 add many years to my life ; no rigor can take many 
 away.'V^ At last, the horn- of the favorite's disgrace 
 arrived ; and, amidst the jubilee of Madrid, he was 
 driven into exile. The release of Quevedo fol- 
 *2T8 lowed as a matter* of course, since it was al- 
 ready admitted .that another had written the 
 verses^ for which he had been punished by nearly 
 four years of the most imjust suffering.' 
 
 * The first is the very curious paper "I was seized in a manner so rigor- 
 entitled "Caidadesu PrivanzajMuerte oils at eleven oclock on the night of 
 del Conde Duque de Olivares," in the the 7th of December, and hunied away, 
 Seminario Erudito (Madrid, 17S7, 4to, in my old age, so unpro\ided, that the 
 Tom. III.^ ; and the other is " Memorial officer who made the arrest gave me a 
 de Don F. Quevedo contra el Conde baize cloak and tvvo shirts, by way of 
 Dui|ue de Olivares," in the same col- alms, and one of the alguazils gave me 
 lection, Tom. XV. some woollen stockings. I was impris- 
 
 ° This letter, often reprinted, is in oned four yeai-s, — two of them as if I 
 
 Mayans y Siscar, " Cartas Morales," were a wilii beast, shut up alone, with- 
 
 etc, Valencia, 1773, 12mo, Tom. I. p. out human iutercour.se, and where I 
 
 1.51 . Another letter to his friend Adan should have died of hunger and dcstitu- 
 
 de la Pan-a, giving an account of his tion if the charity of my Lord the Duke 
 
 mode of life during his confinement, of Medina-Cceli had not been in place 
 
 shows that he wa.s extremely industri- of a sure and full patrimony to me down 
 
 ous. Indeed, industiy was his main to the present day. From this cruel 
 
 resource a large i)art of the time he was chain of linked calamities, the justice 
 
 in San ilarcos de Ix-on. Seminario and mercy of his Majesty released me 
 
 Erudito, Tom. I. p. 65. by means of a petition given to him bj^ 
 
 ® Sedano, Pama.so Espahol, Tom. IV. your Excellency, to whom I refened 
 
 p. xxxi. my cause, in the whole course of which 
 
 '' In his Dedication of his Life of St. no complaint was ever made against 
 
 Paul to the President of Castile, we me, nor any confession a.sked of me, 
 
 liave this extraordinarj' account of his neither after my release was any judicial 
 
 arrest and imxmsonment : — paper found in relation to it." Obras,
 
 Chap. XIX.] • FKANCISCO DE QUEVEDO. 327 
 
 But justice came too late. Quevedo remained, in- 
 deed, a little time at Madrid, among his friends, en- 
 deavoring to recover some of his lost property ; but 
 failing in this, and unable to subsist in the capital^ 
 he retired to the mountains from which his race had 
 descended. His infirmities, however, accompanied him 
 wherever he went; his spirits sunk imder his trials and 
 sorrows; and he died, wearied out with life, in 104-3.'^ 
 
 Quevedo sought success, as a man of letters, in a 
 great number of departments, — from theology and 
 metaphysics down to stories of vulgar life and Gypsy 
 ballads. But many of his manuscripts were t;U^en 
 from him when his papers were twice seized by tlie 
 government, and many others seem to have been 
 accidentally lost in the course of a life full of change 
 and adventure. From these and other causes, his 
 friend Antonio de Tarsia tells us that the greater part 
 of his works could not be published ; and we know 
 that many are still to be found in his own handwriting 
 both in the National Library of Madrid, and in 
 other collections, public and private.^ * Those * 279 
 already printed fill eleven considerable volumes, 
 eight of prose and three of poetry ; leaving us prob- 
 ably little to regret concerning the fate of the rest, 
 unless, perhaps, it be the loss of his dramas, of which 
 two are said to have been represented with applause 
 at Madrid, during his life time. ^*^ 
 
 Tom. VI. p. 8. His confinement ex- dano's Parna.so Espanol, is liy Velaz- 
 
 tended from December 7, 16-39, to early quez, and is strongly inarkcd with th(^ 
 
 in .lune, 1(343. character we attribute to tlie autlior of 
 
 " His nephew, in a Preface to the the Visions. Stirling's Artists of Spain, 
 
 second volume of his uncle's Poems, 1848, Vol. II. p. 63.5. 
 
 (published at Madiid, 1670, 4to, ) .says '■* Obras, Tom. X. p. 45, and N. An- 
 
 tiiat Quevedo died of two imposthumes tonio, Bib. Nova, Tom. I. p. 463. A 
 
 on his chest, which were formed during considerable amount of liis miscella- 
 
 his last imprisonment. neons works may be found in the Seini- 
 
 The jiortrait of Quevedo, wearing a nario Erudito, Tom. I., III., VI., and 
 
 huge pair of spectacles, which is well XV. 
 
 engraved for the fourth volume of Se- ^'^ Besides these dranuis, whose names
 
 328 QUEVEDO'S POETRY. [Pkuiod II. 
 
 Of his poetry, so far as we know, he himself pul)- 
 lislied nothing with his name, except such as occurs in 
 his poor transhitions from Epictetus and Phocyhdes ; 
 but in the tasteful and curious collection of his friend 
 Pedro de Espinosa, called ''Flowers of Illustrious 
 Poets," printed when Quevedo was only twenty-five 
 years old, a few of his minor poems are to be found. 
 This was probably his first appearance as an author; 
 and it is worthy of notice, that, taken together, these 
 few poems announce much of his future poetical 
 character, and that two or three of them, like the 
 one beginning, 
 
 A wight of might 
 
 Is Don Money, the knight," '^ 
 
 are among his happy efforts. But though he himself 
 published scarcely any of them, the amount of his 
 verses found after his death is represented to have 
 been very great ; much greater, we are assured, than 
 could be discovered among his papers a few years 
 later,^^ — probably because, just before he died, " he 
 denounced," as we are told, "all his works to the 
 Hoi}' Tribunal of the Inquisition, in order that the 
 parts less becoming a modest reserve might be re- 
 duced, m they tvere, to just measure by serious and 
 i:)rudent retlection.^^ 
 
 are unknown to lis, he wrote, in con- the " Entremeses Nuevos, 1643"; but 
 
 junction with Ant. Huitado de Men- I think there are others still in manu- 
 
 <loza, and at the connnand of the Count script. 
 
 Duke Olivares, who afterwards treated " PoJeroso cavallero 
 
 1 . 11 1 11 1 << r\ • Ks Don Dinero, etc., 
 
 hnn so cruelly, a ]>Iay called "Quicn ' ' 
 
 mas niiente, medra nia.s," — Jfe, that. l.U:s is in Pedro Es])inosa, " Flores de Poetas 
 
 'iiiost, trill rise, mosc, — for tJie gorgeous Ilustres," Madrid, Itii).'), 4to, f. 18. 
 
 entertainment that jnodigal miui.ster ^'^ "Not the twentieth jiart was saved 
 
 gave to Philip I V'^. on St. John's eve, of the verses which many persons knew 
 
 1631. See the account of it in the no- to have been extant at the time of his 
 
 tice of Lope de Vega, ante, j). 212, and death, and whicli, during our constant 
 
 post. Chapter XXI., note. There were intercourse, I had countless times held 
 
 ten "entremeses" anfl t<?n "bayles" in my hands," says Gonzalez de Salas, 
 
 among his dramas, some of which were in the Preface to the first part of Quc- 
 
 pul)li.shed by his nejiiiew in the " Tres vedo's Poems, 1648. 
 
 Ultimas Musas" in 1670, and some in ^^ Preface to Tom. VII. of Obra.s.
 
 CiiAP. XIX.] QUEVEDO'S POETRY. o29 
 
 * Such of his poetry as was easily foimd was, * 280 
 however, piibhshed ; — the first part by his 
 learned friend Gonzalez de Salas, in 1648, and the 
 rest, in a most careless and crude manner, by his 
 nephew, Pedro Alderete, in 1670, under the conceited 
 title of " The Spanish Parnassus, divided into its Two 
 Summits, with the Nine Castilijin Muses." The col- 
 lection itself is very miscellaneous, and it is not always 
 easy to determine why the particular pieces of which 
 it is composed were assigned ratlier to the protection 
 of one Muse than of another. In general, they are 
 short. Sonnets and ballads are far more numerous 
 than anything else ; though candones, odes, elegies,, 
 epistles, satires of all kinds, idyls, qidntiUas, and redon- 
 dillas are in great abundance. There are, besides, four 
 cntremeses of little value, and the fragment of a poem 
 on the subject of Orlando Furioso, intended to be in the 
 manner of Berni, but running too much into caricature. 
 
 The longest of the nine divisions is that which passes 
 under the name and authority of Thalia, the goddess, 
 who presided over rustic wit, as well as over comedy. 
 Indeed, the more prominent characteristics of the 
 whole collection are a broad, grotesque humor, and a 
 satire sometimes marked with imitations of the an- 
 cients, especially of Juvenal and Persius, but oftener 
 overrun with puns, and crowded with conceits and 
 allusions, not easily miderstood at the time they first 
 appeared, and now (juite unintelligible.^^ His 1)ur- 
 
 His request on his death-bed, that i* " Los equivocos y las a'usiones 
 
 nearly all his works, printed or nianu- suyas," says his editor in 1648, "son 
 
 scrijjt, might be suppressed, is tiiuni- tan frecjuentes y multiplicados, aquello-; 
 
 }ihaiitly recorded in the Index Expur- y estas, ansi en un solo v(;rso y aun en 
 
 gatorius of 1667, p. 425. Some of them una palabra, (jue es bieii infalible que 
 
 are, no doubt, foul with an indecency mucho iiumero sin advertirse se haya 
 
 which will nevi'r permit them to be de jjerder." Obras, Tom. VII., Elo- 
 
 jirinted, or, at least, never ought to gios, etc. 
 liermit it.
 
 330 QUEVEDO'S POETRY. [Period II. 
 
 lesque sonnets, in imitation of the Italian poems of 
 that chiss, are the best in the Language, and have a 
 bitterness rarely found in company with so much wit. 
 Some of his lighter ballads, too, are to be placed in the 
 ■very first rank, and fifteen that he wrote in the wild 
 dialect of the Gypsies have ever since been the de- 
 light of the lower classes of his countrymen, and 
 
 are still, or were lately, to be heard among 
 * 281 their * other popular poetry, sung to the guitars 
 
 of the peasants and the soldiery throughout 
 Spain. ^^ In regular satire he has generally followed 
 the path trodden by Juvenal ; and, in the instances of 
 his complaint " Against the Existing Manners of the 
 Castilians," and " The Dangers of Marriage," has 
 proved himself a bold and successful disciple.^'' Some 
 of his amatory poems, and some of those on religious 
 subjects, especially when they are in a melancholy 
 tone, are full of beauty and tenderness ; ^' and once 
 or twice, when most didactic, he is no less powerful 
 than grave and lofty.^^ 
 
 His chief fault — besides the indecency of some of 
 his poetry, and the obscurity and extravagance that 
 pervade 3'et more of it — is the use of words and 
 phrases that are low and essentially unpoetical. This, 
 so far as we can now judge, was the result partly of 
 haste and carelessness, and partlj' of a false theory-. 
 He sought for strength, and he became affected and 
 
 1* They an' at the end of the seventh somewhat coarse, tliough not so bad as 
 
 volume of the Obras, and also in Ilidal- its model in this respect. 
 
 go, "Romances de Gemiania" (Madrid, i" See the cancion (Tom. VII. ]i. 323) 
 
 1779, 12nio, jip. 226-295). Of the beginning, " Pues quita al aho Prima- 
 
 ligliter ballads in gooil f'astilian, we vera el cefio " ; also some of the poems 
 
 may notice, especially, '"Padre Adan, in the "Erato" to the lady he calls 
 
 ijo liorids duelos," (Tom. VIII. ]>. 1S7,) "Fili," who .seems to have been more 
 
 and " Dijo a la rana el mo.S([uito," Tom. loved by him than any other. 
 
 VII. ).. .514. i» Particularly in "The Dream," 
 
 i« Obras, Tom. VII. Y]k 192-200, (Tom. IX. p. 296,) and in the "Hymn 
 
 and VIII. i))i. [j:yi-[,r,(). The lu.st is to the Stars," p. 338.
 
 CirAP. XIX.] QUEVEDO'S POETRY. 331 
 
 rude. But we should not judge liim too severely. He 
 wrote ii great deal, and with extraordinary facility, but 
 refused to print; professing his intention to correct 
 and prepare his poems for the press when he should 
 have more leisure and a less anxious mind. That time, 
 however, never came. We should, therefore, rather 
 wonder that we find in his works so many passages of 
 the purest and most brilliant wit and poetry, than com- 
 plain that they are scattered through so very large a 
 mass of what is idle, unsatisf^ictory, and sometimes 
 unintelligible. 
 
 Once, and once only, Quevedo published a small 
 volume of poetry, which has been supposed to be his 
 own, though not originally appearing as such. The 
 occasion was worthy of his genius, and his suc- 
 cess was equal to * the occasion. For some * 282 
 time, Spanish literature had been overrun with 
 a species of affectation resembling the euphuism that 
 prevailed in England a little earlier. It passed under 
 the name of ciiUismo, or the polite .style ; and when we 
 come to speak of its more distinguished votaries, we 
 shall have occasion fully to explain its characteristic 
 extravagances. At present, it is enough to say, that, 
 in Quevedo's time, this fashionable fanaticism was at 
 the height of its folly ; and that, perceiving its absurd- 
 ity, he launched against it the shafts of his unsparing 
 ridicule, in several shorter pieces of poetry, as well as 
 in a trifle called " A Compass for the Polite to steer by," 
 and in a prose satire called "A Catechism of Phrases 
 to teach Ladies how to talk Latinized Spanish.'' ^^ 
 
 But finding the disease deeply fixed in the national 
 
 1^ There are several poems about cul- lowing it is the Catechism, whose 
 
 tismo, Obras, Tom. VIII., pp. 82, etc. whimsical title I have abridged some- 
 
 The " Aguja de Navegar Cultos" is in what freely. 
 Tom. I. p. 443 ; and immediately fol-
 
 332 EL BACHILLER DE LA TORRE. [Period H. 
 
 taste, and models of a purer style of poetry wanting 
 to resist it, he printed, in 1G31, — the same year in 
 which, for the same jDurpose, he published a collection 
 of the poetry of Luis de Leon, — a small volume which 
 he announced as " Poems by the Bachiller Francisco 
 de la Torre," — a person of whom he professed, in his 
 Preface, to know nothing, except that he had acci- 
 dentally found his manuscripts m the hands of a book- 
 seller, with the Approbation of Alonso de Ercilla at- 
 tached to them ; and that he supposed him to be the 
 ancient Spanish poet referred to by Boscan nearly a 
 hundred years before. But this little volume is a work 
 of no small consequence. It contains sonnets, odes, 
 canciones, elegies, and eclogues ; many of them written 
 w^ith antique grace and simplicity, and all in a style 
 of thought easy and natural, and in a versification of 
 great exactness and harmony. It is, in short, one of 
 the best volumes of miscellaneous poems in the Spanish 
 
 lano;uao;e.^ 
 * 283 *No suspicion seems to have been wdiispered, 
 
 either at the moment of their first publication, 
 or for a long time afterwards, that these poems were 
 the productions of any other than the unknown per- 
 sonage of the sixteenth century whose name appeared 
 on their title-page. In 1753, however, a second edition 
 of them was published by Velazquez, the author of the 
 " Essay on Spanish Poetry," claiming them to be entirely 
 
 2" Perhaps there is a little too much (p. 44) beginning, " tres y quatro veces 
 of the imitation of Petrarch and of the venturosa," with the description of the 
 Italians in tlie Poems of the P>a<liill('i- dawn of day, and tlic sonnet to Spring 
 de la Torre ; but they are, I think, not (p. 12). The first eclogue, too, and all 
 only graceful and beautiful, but gen- the enckc/uis, which are in the most 
 erally full of the national tone, and of flowing Adonian verse, should not be 
 a tender spirit, connected with a sincere overlooked. Sometimes he has un- 
 love of nature and natural scenery. I rhymed lyrics, in the ancient measures,, 
 would instance the oile, "Ale.\is fpie not always successful, but seldom with- 
 contraria," in the edition of Vi-laziiuez, out beauty, 
 (p. 17,) and the truly Horatian ode
 
 (iiAP. XL\.| EL BAClUJ.LEll DE ]>A TOKKE. 333 
 
 the work of Quevedo ;-^ — a claim Avhicli has been fre- 
 quently noticed since, some critics admitting and some 
 denying it, Ijut none, in any instance, fjiirly discussing 
 the grounds on which it is placed by Velazquez, or 
 settling their validity.^^ 
 
 The question, no doubt, is among the more curious 
 of those that involve literary authorship ; but it can 
 hardly be brought to an absolute decision. The argu- 
 ment, that the poems thus published by Quevedo are 
 really the work of an unknown Bachiller de la Torre, 
 is founded, first, on the alleged approbation of them 
 by Ercilla,^^ which, though referred to by Valdivielso, 
 as well as by Quevedo, has never been printed ; and, 
 secondly, on the fact, that, in their general tone, they 
 are unlike tRe recognized poetry of Quevedo, 
 being all in a severely simple and * pure style, * 284 
 whereas he himself not infrequently runs into 
 the affected style he undoubtedly intended by this 
 w^ork to counteract and condemn. 
 
 On the other hand, it may be alleged, that the pre- 
 tended Bachiller de la Torre is clearly not the Bachiller 
 de la Torre referred to by Boscan and Quevedo, whb 
 
 21 " Poesi'as que publico D. Francisco in his I>ife of Queveilo ; Seilano, in liis 
 
 de Quevedo Villegas, Cavallero del 6r- " Painaso Espafiol " ; Luzan, in his 
 
 den de Santiago, Senor de la Torre de "Poetica" ; Montiano, in an ^^'r^^^*" 
 
 Juan Abad, con el nonabre del Bachiller cion ; and Bouterwek, in his History. 
 
 Francisco de la Torre. Anadese en esta Martinez de la Rosa and Faber seem 
 
 segunda edicion un Discurso, en que se unable to decide. But none of them 
 
 descubre ser el verdadero autor el mismo gives any reasons. I have in the te.xt, 
 
 D. Francisco de Quevedo, por D. Luis and in the subsequent notes, stated the 
 
 Joseph Velazquez," etc. Madrid, Xlh^, case as fully as .seems needful, and have 
 
 4to. . no doubt that Quevedo was the author ; 
 
 2^ Quintana denies it in the Preface or that he knew and concealed the au- 
 to his Poesias Castellanas" (Madrid, thor ; or if he really found the nianu- 
 1807, 12ino, Tom. L p. xxxix). So sc^ript in the way he describes, that he 
 does Fernandez, (or Estala for him, ) in altered and prepared the poetry in it s6 
 his Collection of " Poesias Castellanas" as to fit it to his especial purpose. 
 (Madrid, 1808, 12mo, Tom. IV. p. 40); '^^ We know, concerning the conclu- 
 and; what is ot more significance, so sion of Ercilla's life, only that he died 
 does Wolf, in the Jahrbiicher der Lite- as early as 1.59.5 ; thirty-six years before 
 ratur, Wien, 1835, Tom. LXIX. p. 189. the ])ublication of the Bachelor, and 
 On the other side are Alvarez y Baena, when Quevedo was only fifteen years old.
 
 'SS-i KL BACUILT.ER DE LA TOKKE. [Period IT. 
 
 lived in the time of Fenliiiund and Isabella, and whose 
 rude verses are found in the old Caneioneros from 1511 
 to l-')7o ; '^ that, on the contrary, the forms of the poems 
 published by Que^■edo, their tone, their thouglits, their 
 imitations of Petrarch and of the ancients, their versi- 
 fication, and their language, — except a few antiquated 
 words which could easih^ have been inserted, — all be- 
 loug to his own age ; that among Quevedo's recognized 
 poems are some, at least, which prove he was capable 
 of writing any one among those attributed to the Ba- 
 chiller de la Torre ; and finally, that the name of the 
 Bachiller Francisco de la Torre is merelv an ingenious 
 diso-nise of his own. since he was himself a Bachelor at 
 Alcala, had been baptized Francisco, and was the owner 
 of Torre de la Abad, in which he sometimes resided, 
 and which was twice the place of his exile.^ 
 
 There is, therefore, no doubt, a mystery about the 
 wdiole matter which will probably never be cleared up ; 
 and we can now come to only one of three conclu- 
 sions : — either that the poems in c|uestion were found 
 by him, as he says they were, in which case he must 
 have altered them materially, so that they could serve 
 the object he avowed in publishing them ; or that they 
 are the work of some contemporary and friend 
 * 285 of Quevedo, whose name * he knew and con- 
 
 ^ It is even doubtful who tliis Bachil- the few poems wliioh maybe found in 
 
 ler de la Tone of Bo.scan was. Velaz- the Cancionero of 1.573, at H'. I'2i-r27, 
 
 quez (Pref., v) thinks it was probably etc., do with those jniblished by Que- 
 
 jilonso de la Torre, author of the vedo. Gayangos (Spanish translation 
 
 "Vision Deleytable," (circa 1461,) of of this History, Tom. II. p. 560) saj-s 
 
 which we have spoken (Vol. I. ]). 377) ; there are, in the Cancionero of Estufii- 
 
 and Alvarez y Baena (Hijos de Madrid, ga, poems by a Fei-nando de la Tone, 
 
 Tom. IV. p. 169) thinks it may per- and that he lived in the time of John 
 
 haps have been Prdro Di'iz de la Torre, II., i. e. before 14.54. But, as Gayan- 
 
 who died in 1504, one of the counsel- gos adds truly, this does not, en Jo 
 
 lors of Fsrdinand and Isabella. But, maJi minimo, help to clear up the ques- 
 
 in cither ca.se, the name does not cor- tion. 
 
 respond with that of Quevedo's Bachil- ^ He was exiled there in 1628, for 
 
 ler Franci-tco de la Torre, any better si.x months, as well as imprisoned there 
 
 than the style, thoughts, and forms of in 1620. Obras, Tom. X. p. 88.
 
 •Chai'. XL\.] QUEVEDo's PROSE WORKS. 335 
 
 •cealed ; or that tliey were selected by liiinsclf out 
 of the great mass of • his own unpublished manu- 
 scripts, choosing such as would be least likely to betray 
 their origin, and most likel}', b}' their exact finish and 
 good taste, to rebuke the folly of the affected and 
 fashionable poetry of his time. But whoever may be 
 their author, one thing is certain, — they are not un- 
 Avorthy the genius of any poet belonging to the bril- 
 liant age in which they appeared. ^^ 
 
 Quevedo's principal works, however, — those on 
 which his reputation mainly rests, both at home and 
 abroad, — are in prose. The more grave will hardly 
 come under our cognizance. They consist of a trea- 
 tise on the Providence of God, including an essay on 
 the Immortality of the Soul ; a treatise addressed to 
 Philip the Fourth, singularly called " God's Politics 
 and Christ's Government," in which he endeavors to 
 collect a complete body of political j)hilosopliy from 
 the example of the Saviour ; ^" treatises on a Holy 
 Life and on the Militant Life of a Christian ; and 
 biographies of Saint Paid and Saint Thomas of 
 Villanueva. These, with translations of Epictetus 
 and the false Phocylides, of Anacreon, of Seneca, 
 
 ^ It is among the suspicious uircum- P-"^ His " Politica de Dios" was begun 
 stances accompanying the tirst puhli- during his first imprisonment, and the 
 cation of the Bachiller de la Torre's first edition — or rather what was sulv 
 works, that one of the two persons wlio sequently enlarged into the First Book 
 give tlie required Aprobaciones is Van- — of it was jmblished in 162fi, wiMi a 
 der Hammen, who played the same sort dedication dated from his jjrison, 2r)tli 
 of trick upon the public of wliicli Que- April, 1621, to the Count Olivares, who 
 vedo is accused ; a vision he wrote be- became afterwards his cruel persecutor, 
 iag, to this day, printed as Quevedo's This dedication, however, was super- 
 own, in Quevedo's works. The other seded by one to the King, prefixed to 
 person who gives an Aprohacinn to the the completed treatise, and found among 
 Bachiller de la Torre is Valdivielso, a Quevedo's papers after his death. I 
 critic of the seventeenth century, whose have a copy of the very curious edition 
 name often occurs in this play ; wlio.se first above referred to, which, with sev- 
 authority on such points is small ; and eral other of his works, was ])ublished 
 who does not say that he ever ,9«?/; the at Zaragoza, probably, I think, because 
 manuscript or the Approbation of Er- the censorship of the press was a little 
 cilia. See, for Vander Hanimen, ^>o.s-^, less severe in Aragon than it was in 
 p. 291. Castile.
 
 Oo6 TAUL THE SlIAKPEK. [rKuioD IL 
 
 '' De Eeiiiediis iitriusque Fortimt'e." of Plutarch's 
 '•Marcus Brutus," aud other ♦ similar works, seem to 
 have been chiefly produced by his sufferings, and 
 to have constituted the occupation of his weary 
 
 hours during his different imprisonments. As 
 * 286 their titles indicate, * they belong, except the 
 
 Anacreon, to theology and metaplnsics rather 
 than to elegant literature. They, however, sometimes 
 show the spirit and the style that mark his serious 
 poetry ; — the same love of brilliancy, and the same 
 extravagance and hyperbole, with occasional didactic 
 passages full of dignity and eloquence. Their learn- 
 ing is generally abundant, but it is often pedantic 
 and cumbersome.^^ 
 
 Not so his prose satires. By these he is remem- 
 bered, and will always be remembered, throughout 
 the world. The longest of them, called -'The His- 
 tory and Life of the Great Sharper, Paul of Segovia," 
 was first printed in 1626. It belongs to the style 
 of fiction invented by Mendoza. in his "Lazarillo." 
 and has most of the characteristics of its class ; show- 
 ing, notwithstanding the evident haste and careless- 
 ness with which it was written, more talent and spirit 
 than any of them, except its prototype. Like the rest, 
 it sets forth the life of an adventurer, cowardly, inso- 
 
 ^ These works, chiefly theological, would look on one of Mvirillo's grand 
 
 metaphysical, and ascetic, fill more than pictures of the charities of the same 
 
 six of the eleven octavo volumes that beneficent man of God. This little 
 
 constitute Quevedo's works in the edi- volume, it should be added, is the 
 
 tion of 1791-1794, and belong to the earliest of Quevedo's known publiea- 
 
 class of didactic prose. tions, and one of tlie rarest books in 
 
 The Life of St. Tliomas de Villanue- the world, 
 
 va, by Quevedo, is an abiidgment, has- Quevcdo valued himself a good deal 
 
 tily made in twelve days from a larger on his "Marco Bruto," which he was 
 
 work on the .same subject, to meet the emjiloyed in correcting just before he 
 
 popular demand for the apjuoaching died, and on his " Komulo," which was 
 
 canonization of that admirable! jwrson a translation from a work of the same 
 
 in 1620. It makes a neat little volume, title, by the Jlarquis Malvezzi, an Ital- 
 
 which I posses.s, and which may be read ian diplomatist mucli in tiie service of 
 
 with plea-sure by the .severest Protes- Philip IV., and at one time his Ambas- 
 
 tant, — with the .same pleasure that he sador in London.
 
 Chap. XIX.] PAUL THE ailAKPER. 337 
 
 lent, and full of resources, who begins in the lowest 
 and most infamous ranks of society, but, unlike most 
 others of his class, he never fairly rises above his 
 original condition ; for all his ingenuity, wit, and 
 spirit only enable him to struggle up, as it were by 
 accident, to some brilliant success, from which he is 
 immediately precipitated by the discovery of his true 
 character. Parts of it are very coarse. Once or twice 
 it becomes — at least according to the notions of the 
 Romish Church — blasphemous. And almost always 
 it is in the nature of a caricature, overrun with con- 
 ceits, puns, and a reckless, fierce humor. But every- 
 where it teems with wit and the most cruel 
 sarcasm against all * orders and conditions of * 287 
 society. Some of its love adventures are excel- 
 lent. Many of the disasters it records are extremely 
 ludicrous. But there is nothing genial in it ; and it is 
 hardly possible to read even il^s scenes of frolic and 
 riot at the University, or those among the gay rogues 
 of the capital or the gayer vagabonds of a strolling 
 company of actors, with anything like real satisfaction. 
 It is a satire too hard, coarse, and unrelenting to be 
 amusing .^^ 
 
 29 Watt, in his Bibliotheca, art. Que- Salas Barbadillo, he has made a mul- 
 vedo, cites au edition of " El Gran Ta- titude of petty addition.s, alterations, 
 cano," at Zaragoza, 1626 ; and I think and omissions ; some desirable, per- 
 there is a copy of it in the British haps, from the indecency of the origi- 
 Museum. Since that time, it lias ap- nal, others not ; and winds off the whole 
 peared in the original in a gi'eat num- with a conclusion of his own, which 
 ber of editions, both at home and savors of the sentimental and extrava- 
 abroad. Into Italian it was translated gant school of Victor Hugo. There is, 
 by P. Franco, as early as 1634 ; into also, a translation of it into English, 
 French by Genest, the well-known in a collection of some of Quevedo's 
 translator of that period, as early as AVorks, printed at Edinburgh, in 3 
 1641 ; and into English, anonymously, vols., 8vo, 1798 ; and a German trans- 
 as early as 16.57. Many other versions lation in Bertuch's j\Iagazin der Span- 
 have been made since ; — the last, known ischen und Portug. Litteratur (Dessau, 
 to me, being one of Paris, 1843, 8vo, 1781, 8vo, Band II.). But neither of 
 by A. Germond de Lavigne. His trans- them is to be commended for its fidel- 
 lation is made with spirit ; but, besides ity. Dr. Julius .says, there was a Ger- 
 that he has thrust into it passages from man translation of it published at Leiji- 
 other works of Quevedo, and a .story by zig (1826, 2 vols.) by a female hand,
 
 338 OTHER PROSE SATIRES. [Period IJ. 
 
 This, too, is the character of most of his other 
 prose satires, which were cliieflj written, or at least 
 pubhshed, nearly at the same period of his life ; — the 
 interval l^etween his two great imprisonments, when 
 the first had roused up all his indignation against a 
 condition of society which could permit such intol- 
 erable injustice as he had suffered, and before the 
 crushing severity of the last had broken down alike 
 his health and his courao-e. Ainoncr them are the 
 treatise '-On all Things and many more," — an attack 
 on pretension and cant ; '• The Tale of Tales," which is 
 in ridicule of the too frequent use of proverbs ; and 
 •• Time's Proclamation," which is apparently directed 
 against whatever came uppermost in its author's 
 thoughts when he was writing it. These, however, 
 with several more of the same sort, may be passed 
 over to speak of a few better known and of more 
 
 importance.^ 
 * 288 * The first is called the '• Letters of the 
 Knight of the Forceps," and consists of two- 
 and-twenty notes of a miser to his lady-love, refusing 
 all her applications and hints for money, or for amuse- 
 ments that involve the shghtest expense. Nothing 
 can exceed their dexterit}-, or the ingenuity and wit 
 that seem anxious to defend and vindicate the mean 
 vice, which, after all, they are only making so much 
 the more ridiculous and odious.^^ 
 
 The next is called '• Fortune no Fool, and the Hour 
 of All " ; — a long apologue, in which Jupiter, sur- 
 
 and anotlier by Gutteiistern in 1841. in lti27 ; and tliere i.s a very good trans- 
 He kindly forbears to give the lady's lation of them iu Band I. of the Maga- 
 name, though she had put it on her zin of Bertuch, an active man of letters, 
 own title-page. the friend of Musiius, Wieland, and 
 
 ** They are in Vols. Land 11. of the Goethe, who, by translation;;, and in 
 
 edition of his Works, Madrid, 1791, 8vo. other ways, did much, between 1769 
 
 *i The "Cartas del Cavallero de la and 1790, to promote a love for Spau- 
 
 Tenaza " were first printed, I believe, ish literature in Germany.
 
 Chap. XIX.] FORTUNE NO FOOL. 339 
 
 rounded by the deities of Heaven, calls Fortune to 
 account for her gross injustice in the aftiiirs of the 
 world ; and, having received from her a defence no 
 less spirited than amusing, deteiinines to try the ex- 
 periment, for a single hour, of apportioning to every 
 human being exjictly what he deserves. The sub- 
 stance of the fiction, therefore, is an exhibition of the 
 scenes of intolerable confusion which this single hour 
 brings into the affairs of the world ; turning a phy- 
 sician instantly into an executioner ; manying a 
 match-maker to the ugly phantom she w^as endeav- 
 oring to pass off upon another 5 and, in the larger 
 concerns of nations, like France and Muscov}^, intro- 
 ducing such violence and uproar, that, at last, by the 
 decision of Jupiter and with the consent of all, the 
 empire of Fortune is restored, and things are allowed 
 to go on as they ahvays had done. Many parts of it 
 are written in the gayest spirit, and show a great hap- 
 piness of invention ; but, from the absence of mucli of 
 Quevedo's accustomed bitterness, it may be suspected, 
 that, though it was not printed till several years after 
 his death, it was probably written before either of his 
 imprisonments.'^^ 
 
 * But what is wanting of severity in this * 289 
 whimsical fiction is fully made up in his Vis- 
 ions, six in number, some of which seem to have been 
 published separately soon after his first persecution, 
 and all of them in 1635.*^ Nothing can well be more 
 
 ^'^ I know of no edition of "La For- it must have been written as early as 
 
 tuna con Seso" earlier than one I pos- 1638, becau.se it speaks of Louis XIII. 
 
 .sess, printed at Zaragoza, 1650, 12nio ; as beinpj Mithont hope of issue, and 
 
 and as N. Antonio declares this satire Louis XIV. was born in that year, 
 
 to have been a po.sthumous work, I ■^ One of these Sucilos is dated as 
 
 suppose there is none older. It is there early as 1607, — the " Zahurdas de 
 
 said to be translated from the Latin of Pluton " ; but none, I tliink, was 
 
 KifroscrancotViveque VasgelDuacense ; printed earlier than 1627; and all the 
 
 an imperfect anagram of Quevedo's own six that»are certainly by (^uevinlo were 
 
 name, Francisco QuevedoVillegas. But first printed together in a small coUec-
 
 340 YISIOXS. [Pkriod II. 
 
 free and miscellaneous than their subjects and con- 
 tents. One, called "El Alguazil alguazilado," or The 
 Catchpole Caught, is a satire on the inferior officers of 
 justice, one of whom being possessed, the demon com- 
 plains bitterly of his disgrace in being sent to inhabit 
 the bod}^ of a creature so infamous. Another, called 
 " Visita de los Chistes," A Visit in Jest, is a visit to the 
 empire of Death, who comes sweeping in surrounded 
 by ph^'sicians, surgeons, and esj^ecially a great crowd 
 of idle talkers and slanderers, and leads them all to a 
 sight of the infernal regions, w^ith which Quevedo at 
 once declares he is already familiar through the crimes 
 and follies to which he has lono; been accustomed on 
 earth. But a more distinct idea of his free and bold 
 manner will pro1)ably be obtained from the opening of 
 his '-Dream of Skulls," or "Dream of the Judgment," 
 than from any enumeration of the subjects and con- 
 tents of his Visions ; especiallj' since, in this instance, 
 it is a specimen of that mixture of the solemn and the 
 
 ludicrous in which he so much delisfhted. 
 * 290 * ^'Methought I saw," he saj's, "a fair j^outh 
 
 borne with prodigious speed through the heav- 
 
 tiou of his satirical works that appeared deed, the gi'eat popularit\- of his trans- 
 at Barcelona, in 1635, entitled "Jugu- lations was prohably owing, in no small 
 etes de la Fortuna." The}' were trans- degree, to the additions he boldly made 
 lated into French by Genest, and print- to his text, and the fre(|ueiit accommo- 
 ed in 1641. Into English they were dations he hazarded of its jests to the 
 very freely rendered liy Sir Roger L'Es- scandal and taste of his times by allu- 
 trange, and published in 1668 with sions entirely English and local. The 
 .such .success, that the tenth edition of Visions, besides the translation of Cie- 
 them was ])rinted at London in 1708, nest above referred to, were evidently 
 8vo, and I believe there was 3-et one in fashion in France still later, for I 
 more. This is the basis of the transla- have seen, — (1.) L'algouasil (.sie) bur- 
 tions of the Visions found in Quevedo's lesque imite de Don F. de Quevedo, 
 AVork.s, Edinburgh, 1798, Vol. 1., and &c., par le Sieur de Bourneuf P. Pari.s, 
 in Roscoe's Novelists, 1832, Vol. II. 1657, 8vo, pp. 143; (2.) L'Enfer bur- 
 All the tran.slations I have seen are lesque tiree, &c., par M. I. C Paris, 
 bad. The best Is that of L'Estrange, 1668, 12mo, ])p. 81; and (3.) Hor- 
 or at least the most sjiirited ; but still rcur des Hoireurs .sans Horreurs tiree 
 L'Estrange is not always faithful when des Vi.sions, &e., par Mons. Isaulnay. 
 he knew the meaning, and he Is .some- Paris, 1671, 8vo. Thej^ are all in 
 times unfaithful from ignorance. In- verse.
 
 Chap. XIX.J VISIONS. 341 
 
 ens, who gave a blast to his trumpet so violent, that 
 the radiant beauty of his countenance was in part dis- 
 figured by it. But the sound was of such jDOwer, that 
 it found obedience in marble aud hearing among the 
 dead ; for the whole earth began straightway to move, 
 and give free permission to the bones it contained to 
 come forth in search of each other. And thereupon 
 I presently saw those who had been soldiers and cap- 
 tains start fiercely from their graves, thinking it a 
 signal for battle ; and misers coming forth, fall of 
 anxiety aud alarm, dreading some onslaught ; while 
 those who were given to vanity and feasting thought, 
 from the shrillness of the sound, that it was a call to 
 the dance or the chase. At least, so I interpreted the 
 looks of each of them, as they sprang forth ; nor did I 
 see one, to whose ears the sound of that trumjiet came, 
 who understood it to be what it really was. Soon, 
 however, I noted the way in which certain souls fled 
 from their former bodies ; some with loathing, and 
 others with fear. In one an arm was missing, in an- 
 other an eye ; and while I was moved to laughter as I 
 saw the varieties of their appearance, I was filled with 
 wonder at the wise providence which prevented any 
 one of them, all shuffled together as they were, from 
 putting on the legs or other limbs of his neighbors. 
 In one graveyard alone I thought that there was some 
 changing of heads, and I saw a notary whose soul did 
 not quite suit him, and who wanted to get rid of it by 
 declaring it to be none of his, 
 
 " But when it was fairly understood of all that this 
 was the Day of Judgment, it was worth seeing how 
 the voluptuous tried to avoid having their eyes found 
 for them, that they need not bring into court witnesses 
 against themselves, — how the malicious tried to avoid
 
 342 VISIONS. [Period II. 
 
 their own tongues, and how robbers and assassins 
 seemed willing to wear oat their feet in running away 
 from their hands. And turning partly round, I saw 
 one miser asking another (who, having been embalmed 
 and his bowels left at a distance, was waiting 
 * 291 silently till they should * arrive), whether, be- 
 cause the dead were to rise that day, certain 
 money-bags of his must also rise. I should have 
 laughed heartily at this, if I had not, on the other side, 
 pitied the eagerness with which a great rout of notaries 
 rushed by, flying from their own ears, in order to avoid 
 hearing Avhat awaited them, though none succeeded in 
 escaping, except those who in this world had lost their 
 ears as thieves, which, owing to the neglect of justice, 
 was by no means the majority. But what I most won- 
 dered at was, to see the bodies of two or three shop- 
 keepers, that had put on their souls wrong side out, 
 and crowded all five of their senses under the nails of 
 their right hands." 
 
 The " Casa de los Locos de Amor," the Lovers' Mad- 
 house, — which is placed among Quevedo's Visions, 
 though it has been declared to be the work of his 
 friend Lorenzo Vander Hammen, to whom it is dedi- 
 cated, — lacks, no doubt, the freedom and force which 
 characterize the Vision of the Judgment.^* But this 
 
 ^ The six Tiniiuestioned Suertos are tyndo. I5iit it is much more likely that 
 
 in Tom. I. of tlie Madrid edition of Quevedo should have coiintenanceil this 
 
 Quevedo, 1791. The "Casa de los little si^^^crc/wr/e of his friend, than that 
 
 Locos de Amor" is in Tom. II. ; and Nicolas Antonio should have been de- 
 
 as N. Antonio (Bih. Nov., I. 462, and liberately imjio.sed upon by Vander 
 
 II. 10) says Vander Hannnen, a Span- Hammen. Besides, large portions of 
 
 ish author of Flemish descent, told him the "Oa.sa de los Locos de Amor" are 
 
 that he wrote it himself, we are bound beneath the talent of (^)uevedo, and not 
 
 to take it from the piopcr list of Que- at all in his manner. Vander Hammen 
 
 vedo's works. This, however, has been was the author of several works now 
 
 sometimes thought to be a ]iieee of van- forgotten ; but, in his time, he was con- 
 
 ity and falsehood in Vander Hannnen, nected with men of note. Lope de 
 
 because in 1G27 he had dedicated sev- Veg;v dedicated to him "El Bobo del 
 
 ei-al of the Visions- — the one in ques- Colegio," in 1620, begging him to pub- 
 
 tion -among the rest — to Francisco lish his "Secretario," which, however, 
 
 Ximenez de Urrea, as tlie works of Que- I believe, never was printed.
 
 CuAi'. XIX. J QUEVEDO b CUAKACTEli. 6i6 
 
 is a remark that can by no means be extended to the 
 Vision of "Las Zahurdas de Pliiton," Pluto's Pigsties, 
 which is a show of what may be called the rabble of 
 Pandemonium ; '• El Mundo por de Dentro," The World 
 Inside Out; and "El Entremetido, la Duefia, y el So- 
 plon," The Busybody, the Duemia, and the Informer; 
 - — all of which are full of the most truculent sarcasm, 
 recklessly cast about by one to whom the world had 
 not been a friend, nor the world's law. 
 
 In these Visions, as well as in nearly all that 
 Quevedo * wrote, much is to be found that indi- * 292 
 cates a bold, original, and independent spirit. 
 His age and the circumstances amidst which he was 
 placed have, however, left their traces both on his 
 poetry and on his prose. Thus, his long residence in 
 Italy is seen in his frequent imitations of the Italian 
 poets, and once, at least, in the composition of an origi- 
 nal Italian sonnet ; '^ - — his cruel sufferings during his 
 different persecutions are apparent in the bitterness 
 of his invectives everywdiere, and especially in one of 
 his Visions, dated from his prison, against the adminis- 
 tration of justice and the order of society ;—- while 
 the influence of the false taste of his times, which, in 
 some of its forms, he manfully resisted, is yet no less 
 apparent in others, and persecutes him with a per- 
 petual desire to be brilliant, to say something ((uaint 
 or startling, and to be pointed and epigrammatic. 
 But over these, and over all his other defects, his 
 genius from time to time rises, and reveals itself with 
 great power. He has not, indeed, that sure perception 
 of the ridiculous which leads Cervantes, as if by instinct, 
 to the exact measure of satirical retribution ; but he 
 perceives quickly and strongly ; and though he often 
 
 ^ Obras, Tom. VII. j). 289.
 
 344 
 
 FRANCISCO DE QUEVEDO. 
 
 [Pekiou II. 
 
 errs, from the exag-o-eration and coarseness to which he 
 so much tended, yet, even in the passages where these 
 faults most occur, we often find touches of a solemn 
 and tender beauty, that show he had higher powers 
 and better quaUties than his extraordinary- wit. and 
 add to the effect of the whole, thougli witliout recon- 
 cilinii' us to the broad and o-ross farce that is too often 
 luino'led with his satire.^^ 
 
 ^ A \iolent attack was made on Qne- 
 vedo, ten yeai-s before his death, in a 
 volume entitled " El tiibunal de la 
 Justa Venganza," printed at Valencia, 
 1635, 12mo, pp. 294, and said to be 
 written by the Licenciado Arnaldo 
 Eranco-Fuit ; a pseudonyme, which is 
 -supposed to conceal the names of Mon- 
 talvan, of Father Niseuo, who busied 
 himself in getting Quevedo put on the 
 Index Expurgatorius, and of other per- 
 sons ; for such a satirist could not lie 
 wanting in enemies. The "Tribunal" 
 is thrown into the form of a trial, before 
 regular judges, of the satirical works of 
 Quevedo then published ; and, except 
 when the religious prejudices of the 
 authors i)revail over their judgment, 
 is not more severe than Quevedo's 
 license merited. No honor, however, is 
 done to his genius or his wit ; and per- 
 .sonal malice seems apparent in many 
 jjarts of it. At the beginning it is inti- 
 mated that it was written at Seville. 
 
 Probably the Jesuits there had a hand 
 in it, but, as it is adruitted that then; 
 were several authors, so it is possible 
 that it was prepared in diS'erent places. 
 In 1794, Sancha printed, at Madrid, 
 a translation of Anacreon, with notes 
 by Quevedo, making 160 pages, but 
 not numbering them as a part of the 
 eleventh volume, 8vo, of Quevedo's 
 Works, which he completed that j'ear. 
 Thej" are more in the terse and classical 
 manner of the Bachiller de la Torre than 
 the same nmnber of pages anj^vhere 
 among Quevedo's earlier printed works ; 
 but the translation is not very strict, 
 and the spirit of the original is not so 
 well caught as it is b)' Estevan Manuel 
 de Villegas, whose "Eroticas" ^nll be 
 noticed hereafter. The version of Que- 
 vedo is dedicated to the Duke of Ossu- 
 na, his patron, Madrid, l.st April, 1609. 
 Villegas did not pul)li.sh till 1617 ; but 
 it is not likely that he knew anything 
 of the labors of Quevedo.
 
 *rHAPTEE XX. *294 
 
 THE DRAMA. MADRID AND ITS THEATRES. DAMIAN DE VEGAS. FRANCIS- 
 CO DE TARREGA. — GASPAR DE AGUILAR. GUILLEN DE CASTKO. LUIS 
 
 VELEZ DE GUEVARA. JUAN PEREZ DE MONTALVAN. 
 
 The want of a great capital, as a common centre for 
 letters and literary men, was long felt in Spain. Until 
 the time of Ferdinand and Isabella, the conntryy 
 broken into separate kingdoms, and occupied by con- 
 tinual conflicts with a hated enemy, had no leisure for 
 the projects that belong to a period of peace ; and 
 even later, when there was tranquillity at home, the 
 foreign wars and engrossing interests of Charles the 
 Fifth in Italy, Germany, and the Netherlands led him 
 so much abroad, that there was still little tendency to 
 settle the rival claims of the great cities ; and the 
 court resided occasionally in each of them, as it had 
 from the time of Saint Ferdinand. But already it was 
 plain that the preponderance which for a time had 
 been enjoyed by Seville was gone. Castile had pre- 
 vailed in this, as it had in the greater contest for giv- 
 ing a language to the country ; and Madrid, which 
 had been a favorite residence of the Emperor, because 
 he thought its climate dealt gently with his infirmities,, 
 began, from 1560, under the arrangements of Philip 
 the Second, to be regarded as the real caj)ital of the 
 whole monarchy.^ 
 
 1 Qiiintana, Historia de Madrid, 1630, lii-s cai)ital. f'liarles, indeed, permitted 
 
 folio. Lib. III. c. 24-26. Cabrera, Madrid in 1a4i to take a ei-ovvn iiita 
 
 Historia de Felipe, II., Madrid, 1619, its eKcutclieoii, sinee whieh time it has 
 
 folio, lil). V. e. 9 ; where he says been ('ailed Villa Imperml y Coroiiada^ 
 
 Charles V. had intended to make Madriil (Origen de Maihid, ec., por ,)u;m Ant.
 
 "346 THE DRAMA. DAMIAN DE VEGAS. [Pi:iaoi> II. 
 
 *.295 * Oil 110 department of Spanish literature did 
 this circumstance produce so considerable an 
 influence as it did on the drama. In 1583. the foun- 
 dations for the two regular theatres that have con- 
 tinued such ever since were already laid ; and from 
 about 1590, Lope de Vega, if not the absolute mon- 
 arch of the stage that Cervantes describes him to have 
 been somewhat later, was at least its controlling spirit. 
 The natural consequences followed. Under the influ- 
 ence of the nobility, who thronged to the royal resi- 
 dence, and led by the example of one of the most 
 popular writers and men that ever lived, the Spanish 
 theatre rose like an exhalation ; and a school of poets 
 — niar-V of whom had hastened from Seville, Valencia, 
 and other parts of the country, and thus extinguished 
 the hopes of an independent drama in the cities they 
 deserted — was collected around him. in the new cap- 
 ital, until the dramatic writers of Madrid became sud- 
 denly more numerous, and in many respects more 
 remarkable, than an}' other similar body of poets in 
 modern times. 
 
 The period of this transition of the drama is well 
 marked by a single provincial play, the " Comedia 
 Jacobina," printed at Toledo in 1590, but written, as 
 its author intimates, some years earlier. It was the 
 ^voik of Damian de Vegas, an ecclesiastic of that city, 
 and is on the subject of the blessing of Jacob by Isaac. 
 Its structure is simple, and its action direct and unem- 
 barrassed. As it is religious throughout, it belongs, in 
 this respect, to the elder school of the drama ; but, on 
 
 Pf'llicor. Madiiil, 4to, 1803, p. 97.) ly Spanish book to sliow forth tlit; glo- 
 But it has always \>m:u a favored lity. ries of the capital, entitled "Solo Ma- 
 in le.'iS, Alonso Nnucz de Castro, Oen- drid es Corte." The disi)lay in it of 
 <>ral Chronicler of Spain and author of the wealth of the hierarchy and of some 
 several works of conse(|uenee to the of the great military orders may w(dl 
 national lustoiy, published a thorough- be called astounding.
 
 Chap. XX.] FRANCISCO DE TAKKEGA. 347 
 
 the other hand, as it is divided into three acts, has a 
 prologue and epilogue, a chorus and much lyrical po- 
 etry in various measures, as well as poetry in terza rima 
 and blank verse, it is not unlike what was attempted 
 about the same time, on the secular stage, by Cer- 
 vantes and Argensola. Though uninteresting in its 
 plot, and dry and hard in its versification, it is not 
 wholly without poetical merit ; but we have no proof 
 that it ever was acted in Madrid, or, indeed, that 
 it was known on the stage * beyond the limits * 296 
 of Toledo ; a city to which its author was much 
 attached, and where he seems always to have lived.^ 
 
 Whether Francisco de Tarrega, who can be traced 
 from 1591 to 1608, was one of those who early came 
 from Valencia to Madrid as writers for the theatre, is 
 uncertain. But we have proof that he was a canon of 
 the cathedral in the first-named city, and yet was well 
 known in the new capital, where his plays were acted 
 and printed.^ One of them is important, because it 
 shows the modes of representation in his time, as well 
 as the peculiarities of his own drama. It begins with 
 a loa, which in this case is truly a compliment, as its 
 name implies ; but it is, at the same time, a witty and 
 
 2 The "Comedia Jacobina" is found Tarrega lived at Valencia in 1591, and 
 in a curious and rare volume of re- wrote eleven or twelve plaj's, two of 
 ligious poetry, entitled " Libro de Poe- wliiidi are known only by their titles, 
 siaj Christiana, Moral, y Diviua," ])or The rest were printed at Madrid in 
 el Doctor Frey Damian de Vegas (To- 1614, and again in 1616. Cervantes 
 ledo, 1590, 12nio, ff. 503). It contains jiraises liini in the Preface to his Oome- 
 a poem on the Immaculate Conception, dias, 1615, among the early followers 
 the turning-point of Spanish orthodoxy ; of Lope, for his discrecion e inumcrablcs 
 a colloquy between a damsel and a too concnjitos. It is evident from the no- 
 free lover; a colloquy between the Soul, tice of the " Enemiga Favorable," by 
 the Will, and the Understanding, the wise canon in Don Quixote, that it 
 which may have been represented ; and was then regarded as the best of its 
 a gi-eat amount of religious poetry, both author's plays, as it has Ix'cn ever 
 lyric and didactic, much of it in the since. Rodrigtu'z, Biblioteca Vah-nti- 
 old Spanish measures, and much in the na, Valencia, 1747, folio, p. 146. Xi- 
 Italian, but little of it better than the meno, Escritores de Valencia, Valencia, 
 mass of poor verse on such subjects then 1747, Tom. I. p. 240. Fuster, Biblioteca 
 in favor. Valentina, Valencia, 1827, folio, Tom. I. 
 
 '^ It is ascertained that the Canon p. 310. Don Qui.xote, Parte I. c. 48.
 
 348 FKANClbCO DE TARHEGA. [Peuiop II. 
 
 ([iiaiiit ballad in praise ot" ugl}' women. Then eomes 
 what is called a " Dance at Leganitos," — a poj^ular 
 resort in the snburbs of Madrid, which here gives its 
 name to a rnde farce fonnded on a contest in the open 
 street between two lackeys.^ 
 
 After the audience have thus been put in 
 * 297 good-humor. * we have the principal phiy. 
 called "' The Well-disposed Enemy " ; a wild, but 
 not uninteresting, heroic drama, of which the scene is 
 laid at the court of Naples, and the plot turns on the 
 jealousy of the Neapolitan king and queen. Some 
 attempt is made to compress the action within prol)- 
 able limits of time and space ; but the character of 
 Laura — at first in love with the king and exciting 
 him to poison the queen, and at last coming out in 
 disguise as an armed champion to defend the same 
 ([ueen when she is in danger of being put to death 
 on a false accusation of infidelity — destro3^s all regu- 
 larity of movement, and is a blemish that extends 
 through the whole i3iece. Parts of it, however, are 
 spirited, like the oiDcning, — a scene full of life and 
 nature, — where the court rush in from a bull-fight, 
 that had been suddenly broken up by the personal 
 danger of the kmg ; and jDarts of it are poetical, like 
 the first interview between Laura and Belisardo, whom 
 she finally marries," But the impression left b}' the 
 
 * This farce, much like an eiUremes Eimas, (1612, f. 125, b, ) and the foun- 
 
 or sayiicte of modern times, is a quarrel tain is aj^jropriately introduced, for 
 
 between two lackeys for a damsel of Leganitos was famous for it. (See Cer- 
 
 their own condition, wliich ends with vantes, Ilustre Fregona, and Don Quix- 
 
 one of them being lialf drowned by the ote. Parte II. e. 22, with the note of 
 
 other in a public fountain. It winds Pellicer. ) Such little circunistanres 
 
 up with a ballad older tlian itself ; for abound in the jjopular portions of the 
 
 it alludes to a street a.s being about to be old Spanish drama, and added much to 
 
 constructedthroughLf'ganitos, whileone its efiV-ct at the^tinie it appeai-ed, and 
 
 of the personages in tlie farce speaks of especialh* to its effect when represented, 
 the street as already there. Tlie ballad * The " Enemiga Favorable" is the 
 
 seems to be claime<l by .Sains Barba- last jilay in an imjiortant volume marked 
 
 dillo. At least, I find it among his as the fifth of the Collection of the
 
 Chap. XX.] GASPAll DE AGUILAR. 349 
 
 whole is, that, tlioiigh the path opened by Lope de 
 Vega is the one that is followed, it is followed with 
 footsteps ill-assured, and a somewhat uncertain pur- 
 pose. 
 
 Gaspar de Aguilar was, as Lope tells us, the rival of 
 Tarrega.*' He was secretary to the Viscount Clielva, 
 and afterw^ards inajor-domo to the Duke of Gandia, 
 one of the most prominent noblemen at the court of 
 Philip the Third. But an allegorical poem, which 
 Aguilar wrote, in honor of his last patron's marrijige, 
 found so little favoi-, that its unhappy author, dis- 
 couraged and repulsed, died of mortification. 
 He lived, * as Tarrega probably did, both in * 298 
 Valencia and in Madrid, and wrote several 
 minor poems, besides one of some length on the 
 expulsion of the Moors from Spain, which was printed 
 in 1610. The last date we have relating to his un- 
 fortunate career is 1623. 
 
 Of the eight or nine plays he published, only tw^o 
 can claim our notice. The first is " The Merchant 
 Lover," jD^'^i'^ed by Cervantes, Avho, like Lope de 
 Vega, mentions Aguilar more than once with respect. 
 It is the story of a rich merchant, who pretends to 
 have lost his fortune in order to see whether either 
 of two ladies to whose favor he aspires loved him for 
 his own sake rather than for that of his money ; and he 
 
 " Diferentes Comedias," published at the story of a great robber who becomes 
 
 Alcala in 1615, at Madrid in 1616, and a great saint, and may have suggested 
 
 at Barcelona the same year, of which to Calderon his "Devocion de la Cruz." 
 
 Lord Taunton has a copy at Stoke, and Six more of his plays may be found in 
 
 of which there is another at the Biblio- the very rare " Doze Comedias de qua- 
 
 teca Ambrogiana in Milan, both of tro Poetas de Valencia," 1609, which I 
 
 which I have seen. (See Vol. III., i)osse.ss, but they are not so good as tin; 
 
 Appendix F. ) The play in ijuestion " Enemiga Favorable." I think there 
 
 is divided into three jorimdas, called arc twelve of his plays, in all, still 
 
 ados, and shows otherwise that it was extant. 
 
 constructed on the model of Lope's •> " Laurel de .\ polo," (Madrid, 1630, 
 
 dramas. But Tarrega wrote also at 4to, f. 21,) where Lope says, sjieaking 
 
 least one religious play, "The Foun- of Tarrega, "Gaspar Aguilar competia 
 
 dation of the Order of Meicy." It is con el en la draniatica poesia."
 
 3o0 GASPAR DE AGUILAR. [Period II. 
 
 finally marries the one who, on this hard trial, proves 
 herself to be disinterested. It is preceded by a pro- 
 logo^ or loa, which in this case is a mere jesting tale ; 
 and it ends with six stanzas, sung for the amusement 
 of the audience, about a man who, having tried unsuc- 
 cessfully many vocations, and, among the rest, those of 
 fencing-master, poet, actor, and tapster, threatens, in 
 despair, to enlist for the wars. Neither the beginning 
 nor the end, therefore, has anvthing; to do with the 
 subject of the play itself, which is written in a spirited 
 style, but sometimes shows Ijad taste and extrava- 
 gance, and sometimes runs into conceits. 
 
 One character is happily hit, — that of the lady 
 who loses the rich merchant by her selfishness. When 
 he first tells her of his pretended loss of fortune, and 
 seems to bear it with courage and equanimity, she 
 goes out saying, — 
 
 Heaveu save me from a husband such as this, 
 Who finds himself so easily consoled ! 
 Why, he would he as ga}^, if it were iiu 
 That he had lost, and not his money ! 
 
 And again, in the second act, where she finally rejects 
 him, she says, in the same jesting spirit, — 
 
 Would you, sir, see that you are not a man, — 
 Since all that ever made you one is gone, — 
 * 299 * (The figure that lemains availing but 
 
 To bear the emiity name that marked yoii once,) — 
 Go and proclaim aloud your loss, my friend, 
 And then inquire of your own memory 
 What has become of you, and who you are ; 
 And you will learn, at once, that you are not 
 The man to whom I lately gave my heart. '^ 
 
 1 Dios me g:narde de hombre Haz luego un alarde aqui 
 
 Que tan pronto so consuela, De tu perdida notoria ; 
 
 Que lo niismo hari dc mi. Toma cuenta a tu memoria; 
 
 Merc-ader Aniante, .lorn. I. P''^'; ^ " "isino por ti 
 
 Veras que no eres aquel 
 
 Quiere."" ver que no t-rcs hombre, A quien di mi corazon. 
 Pues el str tuvo ha.'* |)crdido ; 
 
 y que de aquello ciue ha.s Hide, Ibid., Jorn. 11. 
 
 No te queila sino el nombrc ?
 
 Chap. XX.] GASPAR UE AGUILAR. 351 
 
 What, perhaps, is most remarkable about this drama 
 is, that the iinit}^ of place is observed, and possibly the 
 unity of time ; a circumstance which shows that the 
 freedom of the Spanish stage from such restraints was 
 not yet universally acknowledged. 
 
 Quite different from this, however, is " The Unfore- 
 seen Fortune " ; a play which, if it have only one 
 action, has one whose scene is laid at Saragossa, at 
 Valencia, and along tbe road between these two cities, 
 while the events it relates fill up several years. The 
 hero, just at the moment he is married by proxy in 
 Valencia, is accidentally injured in the streets of Sara- 
 gossa, and carried into the house of a stranger, where 
 he falls in love with the fair sister of the owner, and 
 is threatened with instant deatli by her brother, if 
 he does not marry her. He yields to the threat. 
 They are married, and set out for Valencia. On the 
 way, he confesses his unhappy position to his bride, 
 and very coolly proposes to adjust all his difficulties 
 by putting her to death. From this, however, he is 
 turned aside, and they arrive in Valencia, where she 
 serves him, from blind affection, as a voluntary slave ; 
 even taking care of a child that is borne to him by his 
 Valencian wife. 
 
 Other absurdities follow. At last she is driven to 
 declare publicly who she is. Her ungrateful husband 
 then attempts to kill her, and thinks he has 
 succeeded. *He is arrested for the supposed * 300 
 murder ; but at the same instant her brother 
 arrives, and claims his right to single combat with the 
 offender. Nobody will serve as the base seducer's 
 second. At the last moment, the injured lady herself, 
 presumed till then to be dead, appears in the lists, 
 disguised in complete armor, not to protect her guilty
 
 352 GUILLEX DE CA.STKO. [rKKiou IL 
 
 liusbaiid. but to vindicate her own honor and prowess. 
 Ferdinand, the king, who pre.sides over the combat, 
 interferes, and the strange show ends b}' her marriage 
 to a former k)ver. who has hardly been seen at all 
 on the stage, — a truly " Unforeseen Fortune," which 
 gives its name to the ill-constructed drama. 
 
 The poetrj', though not absolnteh^ good, is better 
 than the action. It is generally in flowing qidniillas, 
 or stanzas of five short lines each, but not without 
 long portions in the old ballad-measure. The scene 
 of an entertainment on the sea-shore near Valencia, 
 where all the parties meet for the first time, is good. 
 So are portions of the last act. But. in. general the 
 whole -pla}' abounds in conceits and puns, and is poor. 
 It opens with a loa, whose object is to assert the uni- 
 versal emi^ire of man ; and it ends with an address to 
 the audience from King Ferdinand, in which he de- 
 clares that nothing can give him so much jDleasure as 
 the settlement of all these troubles of the lovers, ex- 
 cept the conquest of Granada. Both are grotesquely 
 inappropriate.^ 
 
 Better known than either of the last authors is 
 another Valencian poet, Guillen de Castro, who, like 
 them, was respected at heme, but sought his fortunes 
 in the capital. He was born of a noble ftimily, in 
 1569, and seems to have been early distinguished, 
 in his native city, as a man of letters; for, in 1591. 
 he was a member of the Noctunios, one of the most 
 successful of the fantastic associations established 
 
 * The accounts of Agiiilar are fouiul gled with the plays of other poets. A 
 
 in Rodriguez, pp. 1-18, 149, and in cojn- of tlie "Suerte sin Esperanza," 
 
 Ximeno, Tom. I. p. 2.55. who, as is whieli I jiossess, without date or pa- 
 
 often the ca.se, has done little but ar- ging, seems older. A copy of his 
 
 range in better order tlie materials col- " Venganza Honrosa" is to be found 
 
 lected by Rodriguez. Seven of Agui- as the ftfth play in Vol. V. of the 
 
 lar's jdays are in collections printed "DiferentcsComedias/'oneutionedoji^e, 
 
 at Valencia in 1009 and 1616, min- note 5.
 
 Chap. XX.J GUILLKX DE CASTRO. 353 
 
 in Spain, in imitation * of tlio Aeadcmias that * 301 
 had been foi- some time fashionable in Italy. 
 His literary tendencies were further cultivated at the 
 meetings, of this society, Avhere he found among his 
 associates Tarrega, Aguilar, and Artieda.^ 
 
 His life, however, was not wholly devoted to letters. 
 At one time, he was a captain of cavalry ; at another, 
 he stood in such favor with Benevente, the mmiificent 
 viceroy of Naples, that he had a place of consequence 
 intrusted to his government ; and at Madrid he was so 
 well received, that the Duke of Ossuna gave him an 
 annuity of nearly a thousand crowns, to which the 
 reigning flivorite, the Count Duke Olivares, added a 
 royal pension. But his unequal humor, his discon- 
 tented spirit, and his hard o])stinacy ruined his for- 
 tunes, and he was soon obliged to write for a living. 
 Cervantes speaks of him, in 1615, as among the pop- 
 ular authors for the theatre, and in 1620 he assisted 
 Lope at the festival of the canonization of San Isidro, 
 wrote several of the pieces that were exhibited, and 
 gained one of the prizes. Six years later he was still 
 earning a painful subsistence as a dramatic writer ; 
 and in 1631 he died so poor, that he was buried by 
 charity. ^'^ 
 
 Very few of his works have been published, except 
 his plays. Of these we have n^rly forty, printed be- 
 
 ^ In the note of Cerda y Rico to the other distinguished Valencians — was 
 
 "Diana" of Gil Polo, 1802, pp. 515- painted for a gallery in Valencia by 
 
 519, is an account of this Academy, Juan de Ribalta, who died in 1628. 
 
 and a list of its members. Barrera Those of Tarrega, Aguilar, and Guillen 
 
 says it lasted oidy from October 4, de Castro are likely to have been oi'igi- 
 
 1591, to April 13, 1593, and that nals, since these poets Avere contempo- 
 
 Aguilar was one of its founders. rary with Ribalta, and the whole col- 
 
 1° Rodriguez, p. 177 ; Ximeno, Tom. lection, consisting of thirty-one heads, 
 
 I. p. 305 ; Fuster, Tom. I. p. 235. was extant in tlie Monastery of La 
 
 The last is important on this subject. Murta de San Geronimo, when C'eau 
 
 The portrait of Guillen — together with Bermudez pre])ared his Dictioiuiry of 
 
 the portraits of Gaspar de Aguilar, Luis Artists. See Tom. IV., 1800, p. 181. 
 
 Vive.s, Ausias March, Jayine Roig, Fran- They are now, I believe, in possession of 
 
 Cisco Tarrega, Francisco de Borja, and the Academy of San Carlos at Valencia. 
 VOL. II. 23
 
 354 GUILLEX DE CASTRO. [Pj:i:iud II. 
 
 tween 1G14 and IGoO. They belong decidedly to the 
 school of Lope, between whom and Guillen de Castro 
 there was a friendship, which can be traced back, by 
 the Dedication of one of Lope's plays, and 1:^^ several 
 passages in his miscellaneous works, to the period of 
 
 Lope's exile to Valencia ; while, on the side 
 * 302 of Guillen de * Castro, a similar testimony is 
 
 borne to the same kindly regard by a volume 
 of his own jilays, addressed to Marcela, Lope's favorite 
 daughter. 
 
 The marks of Guillen de Castro's personal condition, 
 and of the age in which he lived and wrote, are no less 
 distinct in his dramas than the marks of his poetical 
 allegiance. His '■' Mismatches in Valencia " seems as 
 if its story might have been constructed out of facts 
 within the poet's own knowledge. It is a series of 
 love intrigues, like those in Lope's plays, and ends 
 with the dissolution of two marriages by the influence 
 of a lady, avIio, disguised as a page, lives in the same 
 house with her lover and his wife, but whose machina- 
 tions are at last exposed, and she herself driven to the 
 usual resort of entering a convent. His ''Don Quix- 
 ote," on the other hand, is taken from the First Part 
 of Cervantes's romance, then as fresh as an}' Valencian 
 tale. The loves of Dorothea and Fernando, and the 
 madness of Cardenio,#form the materials for its prin- 
 cipal i)lot, and the dtnouonent is the transportation of 
 the knight, in a cage, to his own house, by the curate 
 and barber, just as he is carried liome by them in the 
 romance ; — parts of the story being slightly altered 
 to give it ;i more dramatic turn, though the language 
 of the original fiction is often retained, and the obli- 
 gations to it are fully recognized. Both of these 
 dramas ai'e wiitten chiefly in the old rcdoiidi/la^, with
 
 CiiAi>. XX.] GUILLEN DE CASTRO. 355 
 
 a careful versification ; but there is little poetical in- 
 vention in either of them, and the first act of the 
 " Mismatches in Valencia " is disfigured by a game 
 of wits, fashionable, no doubt, in society at the time, 
 but one that gives occasion, in the phiy, to nothing 
 but a series of poor tricks and puns.^^ 
 
 * Very unlike them, though no less character- * 303 
 istic of the times, is his " Mercy and Justice " ; 
 — the shocking story of a prince of Hungary con- 
 demned to death by his father for the most atrocious 
 crimes, but rescued from punishment by the multitude, 
 because his loj^alty has survived the wreck of all his 
 other principles, and led him to refuse the throne 
 offered to him by rebellion. It is written in a greater 
 variety of measures than either of the dramas just 
 mentioned, and shows more freedom of style and move- 
 ment ; relying chiefly for success on the story, and on 
 that sense of loyalty which, though originally a great 
 virtue in the relations of the Spanish kings and their 
 people, Avas now become so exaggerated, that it was 
 undermining much of what was most valuable in the 
 national character.^^ 
 
 " Santa Barbara, or the Mountain Miracle and Heav- 
 
 ^1 Both these pla3^s ai'e in the first Que cordura, que coiwierto, 
 Yohime of his Comedias, printed in Tendr6yo, siestoy sia mi? 
 T ^1 J 1 J. T 1. XL T\ K • ±. ■ S'li ser, sm alma y sin ti ? 
 1614; but I have the Don Quixote in Ay, Lueinda, que me has muerto ! — 
 a separate pamphlet, without paging or ^^.i ^^ on. Guerin de Bouscal, one of 
 date, and with rude woodcuts, such as ^ considerable number of French dram- 
 belong to the oldest Spanish pubhca- ^^^^^^ (,^^ Puibuscpie, Tom. H. p. 441) 
 tious of the sort. The first time Don ...i^^ ^^^^^^^^-^ ^^^^{ to g .i^h sources 
 Quixote appears in it the stage direc- i^^^v;^,^ 1630 and 1650, brought this 
 tion IS, Enter Don Quixote on Rozi- drama of Guillen on the French stage 
 nante, dressed as he is described in his j,^ ^g.^g ° 
 book." The rcrfojicZtZte in this drama, ,2 J^ -j, j,^ ^he second volume of 
 regarded as mere verses are excellent ; Guillen's plays; but it is also in the 
 \^- <-ai-demo s lamentations at the end .< yi^,. ^e las'Mejores Doce Comedias," 
 of the first act :- ,,t^_^ Un.Aru\, 1652. Guillen dedic^ates 
 Dondc me llevan los pies hi^ ■^e'jond volume, which I found in 
 Sin la vida? *E1 seso pierdo", the Vatican, by a few affectionate words, 
 Pero como ser6 cuerdo to his cousiu Dona Ana Figuei'ola y de 
 Si fue traydor el Marques ? Castro
 
 356 GUILLEX DE CASTRO. [Peuiod II. 
 
 en's Martyr." belongs, again, to another division of the 
 poiDidar drama as settled by Lope de Vega. It is one 
 of those phns where human and Divine love, in tones 
 too much resembling each other, are exhibited in their 
 strongest light, and, Hke the rest of its class, was no 
 doubt a result of the severe legislation in relation to 
 the theatre at that period, and of the influence of the 
 clergv on which that legislation was founded. The 
 scene is laid in Xicomedia. in the thii'd century, when 
 it was still a crime to profess Christianity; and the 
 story is that of Saint Barbara, according to the legend 
 that represents her to have been a contemporary of 
 Origen, who, in foct. appears on the stage as one of the 
 principal personages. At the opening of the drama, 
 the heroine declares that she is already., in her heart, 
 attached to the new sect ; and at the end, she is its 
 
 triumjDliant martyr, carrying with her, in a pub- 
 * 304 lie profession of its faith, * not only her lover, 
 
 but all the leading men of her native city. 
 One of the scenes of this play is particularly in the 
 spirit and fjiith of the age when it was written; and 
 was afterwards imitated by Calderon in his " Wonder- 
 working Magician." The lady is represented as con- 
 fined by her father in a tower, where, in solitude, she 
 gives herself up to Christian meditations. Suddenly 
 the arch-eneni}' of the human race presents himself 
 before her, in the dress of a fashionable Spanish gal- 
 lant, lie gives an account of his adventures in a fanci- 
 ful allegory, but does not so effectually conceal the 
 truth that she fails to suspect who he is. In the mean 
 time, her father and her lover enter. To her father 
 the mysterious gallant is quite invisible, but he is 
 plainly seen by the lover, whose jealousy is thus ex- 
 cited to the hiohest deo-ree ; and the first act ends
 
 CiiAr. XX.] GUILLEN DE CAbTLu'h CID. 357 
 
 with the coiiilLsion and reproaches which such a state 
 of things necessarily brings on, and with the persuasion 
 of the father that the lover may be fit for a madhouse, 
 but would make a very poor husband for his gentle 
 daughter. ^'^ 
 
 The most important of the plays of Guillen de 
 Castro are two which he wrote on the subject of Rod- 
 rigo the Cid, — "Las Mocedades del Cid," The Youth, 
 or Youthful x\d ventures, of the Cid ; — both founded 
 on the old ballads of the countrj^, which, as we know 
 from Santos, as well as in other ways, continued long- 
 after the time of Castro to be sung in the streets.^* 
 The first of these two dramas embraces the earlier 
 portion of the hero's life. It opens with a solemn 
 scene of his arming as a knight, and with the insult 
 immediately afterwards offered to his aged father at 
 the royal council-board ; and then goes on with 
 the trial of the spirit and * courage of Rodrigo, * 305 
 and the death of the proud Count Lozano, who had 
 outraged the venerable old man b}^ a blow on the cheek ; 
 — all according to the traditions in the old chronicles. 
 
 Now, however, comes the dramatic part of the 
 action, wdiich was so happily invented b}^ Guillen de 
 Castro. Ximena, the daughter of Count Lozano, is 
 represented in the drama as already attached to the 
 young knight ; and a contest, therefore, arises between 
 her sense of what she ow^es to the memory of her father 
 and wdiat she may yield to her own affection ; a con- 
 
 1* This coinedkc de santo does not old Spanish drama, offensive to Protes- 
 
 appear in the collection of Guillen's tant ears. 
 
 plays; but my copy of it (Madrid, ^* " El Verdad en el Potro, y el Cid 
 
 1729) attributes it to him, and .so does Resuscitado," of Fr. Santos, (Madrid, 
 
 the Catalogue of Huerta ; besides which, 1686, 12mo,) contains (pp. 9, 10, 51, 
 
 the internal evidence from its ver.sifica- 106, etc.) ballads on the Cid, as he 
 
 tion and manner is strong for its genu- says they were tlien sung in the streets 
 
 ineness. The passages in which the by the blind beggars. The same or 
 
 lady .speaks of Christ as her lover and similar .statements are made by Sar- 
 
 spouse are, like all such passages in the miento, nearly a century later. ^3iS^
 
 358 GUILLKX IJE CASTKO'S CID. [Peiuod IL 
 
 test that continues througli the Mhole of the phiy, and 
 constitutes its chief interest. She comes, indeed, at 
 once to the kinu'. full of a passionate tci'it^f, that struy:- 
 gles with success, for a moment, against the dictates 
 of her heart, and ehiims the punishment of her lover 
 according to the ancient hiws of the reahn. He escapes, 
 however, in consequence of the prodigious victories he 
 gains over the Moors, who, at the moment when these 
 events occurred, were assaulting the citj'. Subse- 
 quentlv, by the contrivance of false news of the Cid's 
 death, a confession of her love is extorted from her ; 
 and at last her full consent to marry him is obtained, 
 partly by Divine intimations, and partly by the natural 
 progress of her admiration and attachment during a 
 series of exploits achieved in her honor and in defence 
 of her kiuii: and countrv. 
 
 This drama of Guillen de Castro has become better 
 known throughout Europe than any other of his works ; 
 not only because it is the best of them all, but because 
 Corneille. who was his contemporary, made it the basis 
 of his own Ijrilliaut tragedy of '"The Cid " ; which did 
 more than anv other single drama to determine for 
 two centuries the character of the theatre all over the 
 continent of Europe. But though Corneille — not un- 
 mindful of the angry discussions carried on about the 
 unities, mider tlie influence of Cardinal Richelieu — 
 has made alterations in the action of his play, which 
 are fortunate and judicious, still he has relied, for its 
 main interest, on that contest between the duties and 
 the affections of the heroine which was first imagined 
 
 by Guillen de Castro. 
 * oOG * Nor has he shown in this exhiljition more 
 
 spirit or power than his Spanish predecessor. 
 Indeed, sometimes he has ftiUen into considerable
 
 CnAi-. XX.] GUILLEX DE CAiSTRO'S CID. 359 
 
 errors, which are wliolly his own. By compressing 
 the time of the aetion within twenty-fovn^ hours, in- 
 stead of suffering it to extend through many months, 
 as it does in the original, he is guilty of the absurdity 
 of overcoming Ximena's natural feelings in relation to 
 the person who had killed her father, while her father's 
 dead body is still before her eyes. By changing the 
 scene of the quarrel, which in Guillen occurs in pres- 
 ence of the king, he has made it less grave and natural. 
 By a mistake in chronology, he establishes the Spanish 
 court at Seville two centuries before that city was 
 wrested from the Moors. And by a general straitening 
 of the action within the conventional limits which were 
 then beginning to bind down the French stage, he 
 has, it is true, avoided the extravagance of introducing,, 
 as Guillen does, so incongruous an episode out of the 
 old ballads as the miracle of Saint Lazarus ; but he has 
 hindered the free and easy movement of the incidents, 
 and diminished their o-eneral effect. 
 
 Guillen, on the contrary, by taking the traditions of 
 his country just as he found them, instantly conciliated 
 the good-will of his audience, and at the same time 
 imparted the freshness of the old ballad spirit to his 
 action, and gave to it throughout a strong national air 
 and coloring. Thus, the scene in the royal council, 
 where the father of the Cid is struck by the haughty 
 Count Lozano, several of the scenes between the Cid 
 and Ximena, and several between both of them and 
 the king, are managed Avith great dramatic skill and a 
 genuine poetical fervor. 
 
 Tlie following passage, where the Cid's father is 
 waiting for him in the evening twilight at the place 
 appointed for their meeting after the duel, is as char- 
 acteristic, if not as striking, as any in the drama, and is
 
 3G() GUILLEX DE CASTRO 's LID. [Peuu>i> II. 
 
 superior to the corresponding passage in the French 
 phiy, which occurs in the fifth and sixth scenes of the 
 third act. 
 
 The timid owe bleats not so mournfully 
 Its shepherd lost, nor cries the angry lion 
 ■* 307 * With sucli a fierceness for its stolen young, 
 
 As I for Roderic. — My son ! my son ! 
 Each shade I pass, amid the closing night, 
 Seems still to wi^ar thy form and mock my arms ! 
 0, why, why comes he not ? I gave; tlie sign, — 
 I marked the spot, — and yet he is not here ! 
 Has he neglected ? Can he disobey ? 
 It may not be ! A thousand terrors seize me. 
 Perhaps some injury or accidt;nt 
 Has made him turn aside his hastening step ; — 
 Perhaps he may be slain, or hurt, or seized. 
 The very thought freezes my breaking heart. 
 
 holy Heaven, how many ways for fear 
 
 Can giief find out ! — But hark ! What do I hear ? 
 Is it his footstep .' Can it be ? 0, no ! 
 
 1 am not worthy such a happiness ! 
 
 'T is but the echo of my grief I' hear. — 
 
 But hark iigain ! Methinks there comes a gallop 
 
 On the flintj' stones. He springs from off his steed ! 
 
 Is there such happine.ss vouchsafed to me ? 
 
 Is it my son ? 
 
 The Cid. ' My father ? 
 
 The Fatlier. May I truly 
 
 Trust myself, my child;' O, am I, am I, then, 
 Once more within thine arms ! Then let me thus 
 Compose my.self, that I may honor thee 
 As greatly as thou hast deserved. F>ut why 
 Hast thou delayed ? And yet, since thou art here, 
 Why should I weary thee with (questioning? — 
 0, bravely ha.st thou borne thyself, my son ; 
 Hast bravely .stood the proof ; hast vindicated well 
 Mine ancient name and strength ; and well hast paid 
 The debt of life which thou receivedst from me. 
 Come near to me, my son. Touch the white hairs 
 Whose honor thou hast saved from infamy. 
 And ki.s.s, in love, the cheek wlio.se stain thy valor 
 Hath in blood washed out. — My sou ! my son ! 
 The pride within my so\il is humbled now, 
 And bows before the power tliat has preserved 
 From sliame the race .so many kings have owned 
 And Iioncircd.''' 
 
 IS Virtio. No la ovi!Jiii-l:i .su prustor porliJo, Balo <ni<'jo<;i, ni hramo ofendiilo, 
 
 Ni el leon que Mils liijos le haii <|uit!i(lo, Couio >o por Kodrigo. Ay, hgo amado !
 
 CuAi>. XX.] (lUILLEN I)E CASTRO'S CID. oGl 
 
 * The Second Part, wliich gives the adventures * 308 
 of the siege of Zaniora, the assassination of King 
 Sancho beneath its walls, and the defiance and duels 
 that were the consequence, is not equal in merit to the 
 First Part. Portions of it, such as some of the circum- 
 stances attending the death of the king, are quite in- 
 capable of dramatic representation, so gross and revolt- 
 ing are they ; but even here, as well as in the more 
 fortunate passages, Guillen has faithfully followed tlie 
 popular belief concerning the heroic age he represents, 
 just as it had come down to him, and has thus given 
 to his scenes a life and reality that could hardly have 
 been given by anything else. 
 
 Indeed, it is a great charm of this drama, that the 
 popular traditions everywhere break through so con- 
 stantly, imparting to it their peculiar tone and char- 
 acter. Thus, the insult offered to old Laynez in the 
 coiuicil ; the complaints of Ximena to the king on the 
 death of her father, and the conduct of the Cid to 
 herself; the story of the Leper ; the base treason of 
 Bellido Dolfos ; the reproaches of Queen Urraca from 
 the walls of the beleaguered city, and the defiance and 
 duels that follow,^*^ — all are taken from the old bal- 
 
 Voy abrazando sombras descompuesto Te puso mi deseo ; y pues veniste, 
 
 i^iitre la oscura noche que ha cerrado. No he de cansarte pregando el como. 
 
 Dile la seiia, y senal<51e el puesto, Bravamente probaste 1 bien lo hicisto ! 
 
 Donde acudiese, en sucediendo el caso Bien mis pasados brios iuiitaste '. 
 
 ^ i me habra sido inobediente en esto ? Bien me pagaste el ser que me debiste ! 
 
 Pero no puede ser ; mil penas pasol Toca las blancas canas que me houi-aste, 
 
 Aljtun inconveniente le habri hecho, Llega la tierna boea 4 la mexilla 
 
 Mudando la opinion, torcer el paso Donde la niancha de mi honor quitaste ! 
 
 Que helada sangre me rebienta el pecho' Soberbia el alma X tu valor se humilla, 
 
 .>i es muerto, herido, d preso ? Ay, Cielo santo I ("omo con.servador de la nolileza, 
 
 Y quantas eosas de pesar sospecho ! Que ha honrado tautos Reyes en Castilla. 
 
 Que siento? esa? mas nomeresco tanto. in„.„i„,i , i , /^- 1 i, ■ n . t tt 
 
 SerA que eorresponden a mis males Mocedades del Cid, Prnnera Parte, Jorn. H. 
 
 Los ecos de mi Toz y de mi llanto. vj rni • • , ^ r .i i 
 
 Pero entre aquellos secos pedregales ^'^^^ lIlipeaclniH'nt ot tllf! lioiior ot 
 
 Vuelvo 4 oir el galope de un caballo. the whole city of ZainoJ'a, for hiuillg 
 
 De el se apea Rodrigo I hay dichas tales? harbored tile murderer of Kins Sancho, 
 
 Sale Roflrii;o. lills a large place, in the " Cronica (Jen- 
 
 Hyo? Cid. Padre? eral," (Tarte IV.,) in the "Cronica del 
 
 D,ego. Es posible que me hallo (;i,l " ,„„i i,j ^jj,, yi,| ballads, and is. 
 
 Entre tus brazos ? Hijo, aliento tonio ^\ i m t> i 7 rr r ,- 
 
 Para en tus alabanzas empleallo. calli^d Af. Kclo dc Zumora, — a form ot 
 
 Como tardaste tanfo? ]iues de plomo challenge preserved in this play of (luil-
 
 oG2 LUIS YELEZ DE GUEVARA. [Pkiuod II. 
 
 lads; often in their very words, and g'cnerally in their 
 fresh spirit and with their picture-like details. The 
 effect must have been great on a Castilian audience, 
 always sensible to the power of the old popular po- 
 etry, and always stirred as with a battle-cry when the 
 achievements of their earlier national heroes were re 
 
 called to them.^' 
 "^309 * In his other dramas we find traces of the 
 
 same principles and the same habits of theat- 
 rical composition that we have seen in those already 
 noticed. The " Impertinent Curiosity " is taken from 
 the tale which Cervantes originally printed in the First 
 Part of his Don Quixote. The "" Count Alarcos." and 
 the •' Count d' Irlos," are founded on the fine old bal- 
 lads that bear these names. And the '• Wonders of 
 Babvlon " is a reli2:ious plav. in which the story of Su- 
 sanna and the Elders fills a space somewhat too large, 
 and in which King Nebuchadnezzar is unhappily intro- 
 duced eatino' o-mss, like the beasts of the field.^* But 
 everywhere there is shown a desire to satisfj* the de- 
 mands of the national taste ; and ever}^iere it is 
 plain that Guillen is a follower of Lope de Vega, and 
 is distinguished from his rivals rather by the sweetness 
 of his versification than by any more prominent or 
 original attribute. 
 
 Another of the early followers of Lope de Vega, and 
 one recognized as such at the time by Cervantes, is 
 Luis Velez de Guevara. He was born at Ecija in 
 
 len, and recognized as a legal fomi so indebted to him largely, as we shall see 
 
 far back as the Partida Vll., Tit. III., hereafter. Lord Holland's Life of Guil- 
 
 " De los Kiej)tos." len, already referred to, unit, f). 152, 
 
 J' The plays of Guillen on the Cid note, is interesting, though imperfect, 
 have often been reprinted, though hard- ^^ " Las Maravillas de Babilonia " is 
 
 ly one of his otlier dranuus has been. not in Guillen's collected dramas, and 
 
 Voltaire, in his Preface to Conieille's is not mentioned by Rodriguez or Fus- 
 
 < 'id, .says Comeille took his hints from ter. But it is in a volume entitled 
 
 Diamante. But the reverse is the case. " Flor de las Mejores Doce Comedias," 
 
 Diamanti- wrote after Corneille, and was Madrid, lGr.'2, 4to.
 
 <:'HAi'. XX.] LUIS VELEZ DE GUEVARA. 363 
 
 AiidaliLsia, according to some autlioritics in 1570, and 
 according to others in 1572 or 1574, but seems to have 
 hved ahnost entirely at Madrid, where he died in 
 1644, leaving the Conde de Lemos and the Duque de 
 Yeragnas, a descendant of Columbus, for his executors, 
 by whose care he Avas buried with ceremonies and 
 honors becoming their rank rather than his own. 
 Twelve years before his death he is said, on good 
 authority, to have already w^ritten four hundred pieces 
 for the theatre ; and as neither the public favor nor 
 that of the court seems to have deserted him during 
 the rest of his long life, we ma}^ feel assured that he 
 was one of the most successful authors of his time.^^ 
 
 His plays, however, were never collected for publi- 
 cation, and few of them have come down to us. 
 One of * those that have been preserved is for- * 310 
 timatel}^ one of the best, if we are to judge of 
 its relative rank by the sensation it produced on its 
 first appearance, or by the hold it has since maintained 
 on the national regard. Its subject is taken from a 
 well-known passage in the history of Sancho the 
 Brave, when, in 1293, the city of Tarifa, near Gib- 
 raltar, was besieged by that king's rebellious ])rother, 
 Don John, at the head of a Moorish army, and de- 
 fended by Alonso Perez, chief of the great house of 
 the Guzmans. " And," says the old Chronicle, " right 
 well did he defend it. But the Infante Don John 
 had with him a young son of Alonso Perez, and sent 
 and warned him that he must either surrender that 
 city, or else he w^ould put to death this child whom he 
 had with him. And Don Alonso Perez answered, that 
 
 1^ Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. II. \). made out. Guevara will be noticed 
 68, and Montalvan, Para Todos, in bi.s again a.s tlie author of the " Diablo Co- 
 catalogue of authors who wrote for the juelo." He had a son who wrote play.s, 
 stage when (in 1632) that catalogue was full of cultismo, and who died in 1675.
 
 364 LUIS VELEZ DE GUEVARA. [Peuiod II. 
 
 lie held that city for the king, and that he could not 
 give it up ; but that as for the death of his child, he 
 would give him a dagger wherewith to slay him ; and 
 so saying, he cast down a dagger from the rampart in 
 defiance, and added, that it would be better he should 
 kill this son, and yet five others if he had them, than 
 that he should himself basely yield up a city of the 
 kinii;, his lord, for which he had done homa2:e. And 
 the Infante Don John, in great fury, caused that child 
 to be put to death before him. But neither with all 
 this could he take the city." -^ 
 
 Other accounts add to this atrocious story, that, after 
 casting down his dagger, Alonso Perez, smothering his 
 grief,. sat down to his noonday meal with his wife, and 
 that, his j^eople on the walls of the city witnessing the 
 death of the innocent child, and bursting forth into 
 cries of horror and indignation, he rushed out, but, 
 having heard what was the cause of the disturbance, 
 returned quietly again to the table, saying only, " I 
 thought, from their outcry, that the Moors had made 
 
 their way into the city." ^^ 
 * 311 * For thus sacrificing his other duties to his 
 loyalty, in a way so well fitted to excite the 
 imao-ination of the ao-e in which he lived, Guzman 
 received an appropriate addition to his armorial bear- 
 ings, still seen in the escutcheon of his family, and the 
 surname of "El Bueno," — The Good, or The Faithful, 
 — a title rarely forgotten in Spanish history, whenever 
 he is mentioned. 
 
 This is the subject, and, in fact, the substance, of 
 
 ^ Cronica de D. Sancho el Bravo, " Isabel de Soli's," describing a real or 
 
 Valladolid, 1554, folio, f. 76. an iuiii^nnarj' ])icture of the death of 
 
 ^^ Quintana, Vidas de Es])anoles Ce- the young Guzman, gives a tender turn 
 
 lebres, Tom. I., Madrid, 1807, 12mo, to the father's conduct; but the hard 
 
 ]>. 51, and the coiTesponding jiassage in old chronicle is more likely to tell th& 
 
 the play. Martinez de la Kosa, in his truth, and the jday follows it.
 
 Chap. XX.] LUIS VELEZ DE GUEVARA. 365 
 
 Guevara's j^lay, ''■ Ma.s pesa el Rey que la Sangre," or 
 King before Kin. A good deal of skill, however, is 
 shown in putting it into a dramatic form. Thus, King 
 Sancho, at the opening, is represented as treating his 
 great vassal, Perez de Guzman, with harshness and 
 injustice, in order that the fliithful devotion of the 
 vassal, at the end of the drama, may be brought out 
 with so much the more brilliant effect. And again, the 
 scene in which Guzman goes from the king in anger, 
 but with perfect submission to the royal authority ; the 
 scene between the father and the son, in which the}' 
 mutually sustain each other, by the persuasions of 
 duty and honor, to submit to anj'thing rather than 
 give up the city ; and the closing scene, in which, 
 after the siege has been abandoned, Guzman offers 
 the dead body of his child as a proof of his fidelity 
 and obedience to an unjust sovereign, — are worthj^ 
 of a place in the best of the earlier English tragedies, 
 and not unlike some passages in Greene and Webster. 
 But it Avas as an expression of boundless loyalty — 
 that great virtue of the heroic times of Spain — that 
 this drama won universal admiration, and so l^ecame 
 of consequence, not only in the history of the national 
 stage, but as an illustration of the national character. 
 Regarded in each of these points of view, it is one of 
 the most striking and solemn exhibitions of the mod- 
 ern theatre.^^ 
 
 In most of his other plays, Guevara deviated less 
 from the beaten track than he did in this deep 
 tragedy. "The * Diana of the Mountains," for *312 
 instance, is a poetical picture of the loyalty, 
 
 22 The copy I u.se of tlii.s play w.as Gongorism. But a lofty tone runs 
 
 printed in 1745. Like most of the through it, that ahvay.s found an echo 
 
 other puVilished dramas of Guevara, it in the Spanish character, 
 has a geod deal of bombast, and some
 
 366 LUIS YELEZ DE GUEVARA. [Period II. 
 
 dignity, and passionate force of character of the lower 
 classes of the Spanish people, set forth in the person 
 of a bold and independent peasant, -svho marries the 
 beauty of his mountain region, but has the misfortune 
 immediately afterwards to find her pursued by the 
 love of a man of rank, from whose designs she is res- 
 cued by the frank and manly appeal of her husband to 
 Queen Isabella, the royal mistress of the offender.^^ 
 '• The Potter of Ocaiia," too, which, like the last, is 
 an intriguing drama, is quite within the limits of its 
 class; — and so is •• Empire after Death." a tragedy 
 full of a melancholy, idyl-like softness, which well har- 
 monizes with the fate of Inez de Castro, on whose sad 
 stor}^ it is founded. 
 
 In Guevara's religious dramas we have, as usual, the 
 disturbing element of love adventures, mingled with 
 what ought to be most spiritual and most separate 
 from the dross of human passion. Thus, in his " Three 
 Divine Prodigies," we have the whole history of Saint 
 Paul, who yet first appears on the stage as a lover of 
 Mar}' Magdalen ; and in his ''Satan's Court" we have 
 a similar history of Jonah, who is announced as a son 
 of the w idow of Sarepta, and lives at the court of Nin- 
 eveh, during the reign of Ninus and Semiramis, in the 
 midst of atrocities which it seems impossible could have 
 been hinted at before any respectable audience in 
 Christendom. 
 
 Once, indeed, Guevara stepped beyond the wdde 
 privileges granted to the Spanish theatre ; but his 
 offence was not against the rules of the drama, but 
 against the authority of the Inquisition. In '• The 
 Lawsuit of the Devil against the Curate of Madrile- 
 
 ^ The " Luna "ie la Sierra" is the first play in the " Flor de las Mejores Doce 
 Comedias," 1652.
 
 €iiAP. XX.] MONTALVAN. 367 
 
 jos/' wlii(;li lie wrote with Roxas and Mira de Mesciia, 
 he gives an account of the case of a poor mad girl who 
 was treated as a witch, and escaped death only by con- 
 fessing that she was full of demons, who are driven out 
 of her on the stage, before the audience, by conjura- 
 tions and exorcisms. The story has ever\' ap- 
 pearance of being founded in fact, and is * cu- *31o 
 rious on account of the strange details it in- 
 volves. But the whole subject of witchcraft, its ex- 
 hibition and punishment, belonged exclusively to the 
 Holy Office. The drama of Guevara was, therefore, 
 forbidden to be represented or read, and soon disap- 
 peared quietly from public notice. Such cases, how- 
 ever, are rare in the history of the Spanish theatre, 
 at any period of its existence.^* 
 
 The most strict, perhaps, of the followers of Lope de 
 Vega was his biographer and eulogist, Juan Perez de 
 Montalvan. He was a son of the kino-'s bookseller at 
 Madrid, and was born in 1602.^ At the age of seven- 
 teen he was already a licentiate in theology and a suc- 
 cessful writer for the public stage, and at eighteen he 
 contended with the principal poets of the time at the 
 festival of San Isidro at Madrid, and gained, with Lope's 
 assent, one of the prizes that were there offered.^*^ 
 Soon after this, he took the degree of Doctor in Divin- 
 ity, and, like his friend and master, joined a fraternity 
 of priests in Madrid, and received an office in the In- 
 
 -* The plays last mentioned are found ^ Alvarez y Baena, Hijos de Madiid, 
 
 scattered in different collections, — Tom. III. p. 157; — a good life of 
 
 "The Devil's Lawsuit" being in the Montalvan. But his father must, be- 
 
 volume just cited, and "The Devil's fore Lope de Vega's death, have become 
 
 Court" in the twenty-eighth volume of a priest, for he was Lo))e's confessor, 
 
 the Comedias Escogidas. My copy of Obras de Lope, Tom. XX. ])]). 16 and 
 
 the "Tres Portentos" is a pamphlet 41. Such changes were not unconi- 
 
 without date. Fifteen of the plays of mon. 
 
 (ruevara are in the collection of Come- 28 Lope de Vega, Obras Sueltas, Tom. 
 
 ilias Escogidas, to be noticed hereafter, XL pp. 501, 537, etc., and Tom. XII. 
 
 and it is supposed many more can be p. 424. 
 collected.
 
 368 MONTALVAX. [rKi:ion 11. 
 
 qiiisition. In 1626, a princely merchant of Peru, with 
 whom he was in no way connected, and who had never 
 even seen him, sent him, from the opposite side of the 
 world, a pension as his private chaplain to pray for him 
 in Madrid ; all out of admiration for his genius and 
 writino's.-' 
 
 In 1627, he published a small work on - The Life 
 and Purgator}^ of Saint Patrick " ; a subject popular 
 in his Church, and on wliich he now wrote, probably, 
 to satisfv the demands of his ecclesiastical position. 
 But his nature breaks forth, as it were, in spite of 
 himself, and he has added to the common 
 * 314 * legends of Saint Patrick a wild tale, almost 
 ■wholly of his own invention, and yet so inter- 
 woven with his principal subject as to seem to be a 
 part of it, and even to make equal claims on the faitli 
 of the reader.-® 
 
 In 1632, he says he had composed thirty-six dramas 
 and twelve sacramental aidos ; ^ and in 1636, soon 
 after Lope's death, he published the extravagant pane- 
 gyric on him which has been already noticed. This 
 was probably the last work he gave to the press ; for, 
 not long after it appeared, he became hopelessly de- 
 ranged, from the excess of his labors, and died on the 
 2oth of June, 1638, when only thirty-six years old. 
 One of his friends showed the same pious care for his 
 memory which he had shown for that of his master; 
 and, gathering together short poems and other eulo- 
 gies on him by above a hundred and fifty of the known 
 and unknown authors of his time, published them 
 
 ^ Para ToJos, Alcala, 1661, 4to, p. pared in 1632,) where he speaks also of 
 
 428. a picaresque novrla, " Vida i\c Malha- 
 
 28 It went through several editions jas," and other works, as ready for tlie 
 iis a book of devotion, — the last I have press . out tliey have never been print- 
 seen being of 1739, 18mo. See 2^('S^t td. The number of dramatic works of 
 Chap. XXII., note. all kinds attributed to him is aljout 
 
 29 Para Todos, 1661, p. 529, (pre- sixty.
 
 €hap. XX. 1 MONTAT.VAT^. 30 9 
 
 under the title of " Panegyrical Tears on the Death 
 of Doctor Juan Perez de Montalvan " ; — a ])ooi- col- 
 lection, in whicii, tlioiigh we meet the names of An- 
 tonio de Soils, Gaspar de Avila, Tirso de Molina, Cal- 
 deron, and others of note, Ave find very few lines worthy 
 either of their authors or of their subject.'^'* 
 
 Montalvan's life was short, but it Avas brilliant. lie 
 early attached himself to Lope de Vega with sincere 
 affection, and continued to the last the most devoted 
 of his admirers ; deserving in many ways the title 
 given him by Valdivielso, — '^' the firstrborn of Lope de 
 Vega's genius." Lope, on his side, was sensible to the 
 homage thus frankly offered him ; and not only assisted 
 and encouraged his youthful follower, but received him 
 almost as a member of his household and flxmily. It 
 has even been said, that the " Orfeo " — a poem 
 on the subject of Orpheus * and Eurydice, which * 315 
 Montalvan published in August, 1624, in rival- 
 ship with one under the same title published by Jaure- 
 gui in the June preceding — Avas in fact the work of 
 Lope himself, who was willing thus to give his disciple 
 an advantage over a formidable competitor. But this 
 is probably only the scandal of the next succeeding 
 generation. The poem itself, which fills about two 
 hundred and thirty octave stanzas, though as easy and 
 spirited as if it were from Lope's hand, bears the marks 
 rather of a young Avriter than of an old one ; besides 
 which, the verses prefixed to it by Lope, and especially, 
 his extravagant praise of it Avhen afterwards speaking 
 of his own drama on the same subject, render the sug- 
 gestion that he wrote the w^ork too great an iniputa- 
 
 ^ " Lagrimas Panegiiioas a la Tern- poet of note wliom I miss. From the 
 
 prana Miieite del Gran Poeta, etc., J. "Decimas" of Calderon in this vol- 
 
 Perez de Montalvan," por Pedro Grande nme, (f. 12,) I infer that Montalvan 
 
 de Tena, Madrid, 1639, 4to, fi". 164. had two attacks of paralysis, and died 
 
 Quevedo, Montalvan's foe, is tlie only a very gentle death. 
 VOL. II. 24
 
 370 MONTALVAX. [Tkiuou IL 
 
 tion on his cliamcter;^' But however this may be, 
 Montalvan and Lope were, as we know ironi different 
 passages in their works, eonstantl}' together ; and the 
 faithful admiration of tlie disei])le was Avell returned 
 b}- the kindness and patronage of the master. 
 
 Montalvan's chief success was on the stau^e, where 
 his popidarity was so considerable, that the booksellers 
 found it for their interest to print under his name man\' 
 plays that were none of his.^^ He himself prepared 
 for publication two complete volumes of his dramatic 
 works, which appeared in 1638 and 1G39, and were 
 reprinted in 1652 ; but besides this, he had earlier in- 
 serted several plays in one of his works of fiction, and 
 printed many more in other ways, making in all above 
 sixty ; the whole of which seem to have been pub- 
 lished, as far as they were published by himself, during 
 
 the last seven years of his life.^ 
 * 31G *If we take the first volume of his collection, 
 
 which is more likely to have received his care- 
 ful revision than the last, since all the certificates are 
 dated 1635, and examine it, as an illustration of his 
 theories and style, we shall easily miderstand the char- 
 acter of his drama. Six of the plaj's contained in it, 
 or one half of the whole number, are of the class of 
 ciqm y espada, and rely for their interest on some exhi- 
 bition of jealousy, or some intrigue involving the point 
 
 ^ "Orfcocn T.engiiaCastellaua," por ^ Tlie date of the first volume is 
 
 ^. P. de Montalvan, Madrid, 1624, 4to. 1639 on the title-page, hut 1638 at the 
 
 N. Ant., Bib. Xov., Tom. 1. p. 757, end. A MS. of one of his plavs, "La 
 
 and Lope de Vega, Comedias, Tom. Deshonra Honrosa," in the £)uke of 
 
 XX., Madrid, 1G29, in the Preface to Ossuna's Librarj', is dated 1622, when 
 
 which he .says the Orfeo of Montalvan Montalvan of course was only twenty 
 
 "contains whatever can contribute to years old. Schack, Nachtriige, 1854, 
 
 its jierfection." p. 61. He says himself, in the dedica- 
 
 32 His complaints are as loud as Lope's tion of "Cumplir con su «Jbligacion," 
 
 or Calderon's, and are to be found in that it was the second i)lay that he 
 
 the Preface to the first volume of his wrote. In a similar way he pronounces 
 
 jilays, Ahalti, 1638, 4to, and in his his " Doncella de Labor" to be his 
 
 "ParuTodos," 1661, ].. 169. best.
 
 CiiAP. XX.] MONTALYAX. 371 
 
 of honor. They are generally, like the one entitled 
 '• Fulfilment of Duty," unskilfully put together, though 
 never uninteresting ; and they all contain passages of 
 poetical feeling, injured in their effect by other pas- 
 sages, in which taste seems to be set at defiance, — 
 a remark particularly applicable to the play called 
 "What 's done can't be helped." Four of the remain- 
 ing six are historical. One of them is on the suppres- 
 sion of the Templars, which Raynouard, referring to 
 Montalvan, took as a subject for one of the few suc- 
 cessful French traoredies of the first half of the nine- 
 teenth century. Another is on Sejanus, not as he is 
 represented in Tacitus, but as he appears in the '• Gen- 
 eral Chronicle of Spain." And yet another is on Don 
 John of Austria, which has no denouement, except a 
 sketch of Don John's life given by himself, and making 
 out above three hundred lines. A single play of the 
 twelve is an extravagant specimen of the dramas writ- 
 ten to satisfy the requisitions of the Church, and is 
 founded on the legends relating to San Pedro de Al- 
 cantara.^ 
 
 The last drama in the volume, and the only one that 
 has enjoyed a permanent popularity and been acted 
 and printed ever since it first appeared, is the one 
 called " The Lovers of Teruel." It is founded on 
 a tradition, that, early in the thirteenth century, in 
 the city of Teruel, in Aragon, — half-way between 
 Saragossa and Valencia, — there lived two lovers, 
 whose union was prevented by the lady's family, 
 on the ground that tiie fortune of the cavalier was 
 not so considerable as they ought to claim for her. 
 
 ^ It slioukl perhaps be added, that contest with the lion to the pulling 
 
 another religious play of ilontalvan, down of the Philistine temple, is less 
 
 " El Di%ano Xazareno Sanson," con- offensive, 
 taining the historv of Samson from the
 
 372 MOXTALYAX. [rj;Riou II. 
 
 * 317 They, however, gave him a * certain number of 
 years to achieve the position they required of 
 any one who aspired to lier hand. He accepted the 
 ofter, and became a soldier. His exploits were bril- 
 liant, but were long unnoticed. At last he succeeded, 
 and came home in 1217, with fame and fortune. But 
 he arrived too late. The lady had been reluctantly 
 married to his rival, the very night he reached Teruel. 
 Desperate with grief and disappointment, he followed 
 her to the bridal chamber and fell dead at her feet. 
 The next day the lady was found, apparently asleep, 
 on his bier in the church, when the officiating priests 
 came to perform the funeral service. Both had died 
 broken-hearted, and both were buried in the same 
 grave .*^ 
 
 A considerable excitement in relation to this story 
 having arisen in the youth of Montalvan. he seized the 
 tradition on which it was founded, and wrought it into 
 a drama. His lovers are placed in the time of Charles 
 the Fifth, in order to connect them with that stirrino- 
 period of Spanish history. The first act begins with 
 several scenes, in which the difficulties and dangers of 
 their situation are made apparent, and Isabella, the 
 heroine, expresses an attachment which, after some 
 
 ^ I shall have occasion to recur to toiy discussions of his life and works, 
 
 this subject when I notice a long poem There can be no doubt, from a com- 
 
 published on it by Yague de Salas, in paiison of the " Amantes dc Teruel" 
 
 161t). The story used by Montalvan of Tirso with that of Montalvan, jtrinted 
 
 is founded on a tradition already em- three years later, that ilontalvan was 
 
 ployed for the stage, but with an awk- largely indebted to his jiredecessor ; but 
 
 ward and somewhat coarse plot, and a he has added to his drama much that 
 
 poor versification by Andres Key de is beautiful, and given to parts of it 
 
 Artieda, in his "Amantes," published a tone of domestic tenderness that, I 
 
 in 1581, and by Tirso de Molina, in Ids doubt not, he drew from his own na- 
 
 " Amantes de Teruel," 16'S5. These ture. Aribau, Biblioteca de Autores 
 
 two [days, however, had long lieen for- Espanoles, Tom. V. pp. xx.xvii and 690. 
 
 gotten, when an abstract of the fir.st. The story of the Lovers of Teniel is 
 
 and the whole of the second, apjieared found also in Canto IX. of the poetical 
 
 in the fifth volume of Aribau's " Bibli- Romance of Florando de Castilla, 158S, 
 
 oteca" (Madrid, 1848) ; a volume which by Hieronymo de Huerta. See 2^st, 
 
 contains thirty-.si.x well-selected plays Chap. XXVII., note, 
 of Tirso de Molina, with valuable i)refa-
 
 Chap. XX.] MONTALVAX. 373 
 
 anxiety and misgiving, becomes a passion so devoted 
 that it seems of itself to intimate their coming sorrows. 
 Iler father, however, when he learns the truth, con- 
 sents to their miion ; but on condition that, within 
 three A^ears, the young man shall place himself in a 
 position worthy the claims of such a bride. 
 Both of the lovers willingly * submit, and the * 318 
 act ends with hopes for their happiness. 
 
 Nearly the whole of the limited period elapses be- 
 fore we begin the second act, where we find the hero 
 just landing in Africa for the Avell-known assault on 
 the Goleta at Tunis. He has achieved much, but re- 
 mains unnoticed and almost broken-hearted with long 
 discouragement. At this moment, he saves the Em- 
 peror's life ; but the next, he is forgotten again in the 
 rushing crowd. Still he perseveres, sternly and hero- 
 ically ; and, led on by a jDassion stronger than death, 
 is the first to mount the walls of Tunis and enter the 
 city. This time, his merit is recognized. Even his 
 forgotten achievements are recollected; and he re- 
 ceives at once the accumulated reward of all his ser- 
 vices and sacrifices. 
 
 But when the last act opens, we see that he is des- 
 tined to a fatal disappointment. Isabella, who has 
 been artfully persuaded of his death, is preparing, with 
 sinister forebodings, to fulfil her promise to her father 
 and marry another. The ceremony takes place, — the 
 guests are about to depart, — and her lover stands be- 
 fore her. A heart-rending explanation ensues, and she 
 leaves him, as she thinks, for the last time. But he 
 follows her to her apartment ; and in the agony of his 
 grief falls dead, while he yet expostulates and struggles 
 with himself no less than with her. A moment after- 
 wards her husband enters. She explains to him the
 
 374 MOXTALYAX. [Period 1 1. 
 
 scene he witnesses, and, unable any longer to sustain 
 the cruel conflict, faints and dies broken-hearted on the 
 body of her lover. 
 
 Like nearly all the other pieces of the same class, 
 there is much in the '• Lovers of Teruel " to offend us. 
 The inevitable part of the comic servant is peculiarly 
 unwelcome ; and so are the long speeches, and the 
 occasionally inflated style. But notwithstanding its 
 blemishes, we feel that it is written in the true spirit 
 of traged3^ As the story was believed to be authentic 
 when it was first acted, it produced the deeper eflect ; 
 and whether true or not, being a tale of the simple sor- 
 rows of two young and loving hearts, whose dark fate 
 • is the result of no crime on their part, it can 
 * 319 never be read or acted * without exciting a sin- 
 cere interest. Parts of it have a more fomiliar 
 and domestic character than we are accustomed to find 
 on the Spanish stage, pai'ticularly the scene where 
 Isabella sits with her women at her wearisome em- 
 broiderv, durins; her lover's absence ; the scene of her 
 discouragement and misgiving just before her mar- 
 riage ; and portions of the scene of horror with which 
 the drama closes. 
 
 The two lovers are drawn with no little skill. Our 
 interest in them never falters ; and their characters are 
 so set forth Jind developed, that the dreadful catas- 
 trophe is no surprise. It comes rather like the fore- 
 seen and irresistible fate of the old Greek tragedy, 
 whose dark shadow is cast over the whole action from 
 its opening. 
 
 When Montalvan took historical subjects, he endeav- 
 ored, oftener than his contemporaries, to observe his- 
 torical truth. In two dramas on the life of Don Carlos, 
 he has introduced that prince substantially in the
 
 L'liA]-. XX. 1 MONTALVAN. 375 
 
 colors lie must at last wear, as an urigoverncd inarl- 
 man, dangerous to his family and to the state ; and if^ 
 in obedience to the persuasions of his time, the poet 
 has represented Philip the Second as more noble and 
 generous than we can regard him to have been, he has 
 not failed to seize and exhibit in a striking manner the 
 severe wariness and wisdom that were such prominent 
 attributes in that monarch's character.^'' Don John of 
 Austria, too, and Henry the Fourth of France, are 
 happily depicted and fairly sustained in the plays in 
 which they respectively appear as leading person- 
 ao;es.'^" 
 
 * Montalvan's autos, of which only two or * 320 
 .three remain to us, are not to be spoken of in 
 the same manner. His '' Polyphemus," for instance, in 
 which the Saviour and a Christian Church are intro- 
 duced on one side of the stage, while the principal 
 Cyclops himself comes in as an allegorical represen- 
 tation of Judaism on the other, is as wild and extrava- 
 gant as anything in the Spanish drama. A similar 
 
 *• "El Principe Don Carlos" i.s the lived till 1655, but, though he is said 
 first play in the twenty-eighth volume to have completeil his history, and even 
 of the Comedias Escogidas, 1667, and to have once sent the remainder to 
 gives an account of the miraculous cure press, no more than the First Part, 
 of the Prince from an attack of insanity ; coming down to 1583, has ever been 
 the other, entitled " El Segu)ido Seneca published. Ranke's judgment of Ca- 
 de Espana," is the first play in his brera in a remarkable paper on D. 
 " Para Todo.s," and ends with the mar- Carlos (Jaiirb. der Lit. Wien, XLVI. 
 riage of the king to Anne of Austria, 1829) is very wi.se and just, 
 and the appointment of Don John as ^ Don John is in the play that bears 
 generali.ssimo of the League. The rep- his name. Henry IV. is in " El Ma- 
 resentation of characters and incidents rescal de Biron," of wliich I have a 
 in these plays is substantially the same separate copy printed in 12nio, at Bar- 
 that is found in Luis Cabrera de Cor- celoua, in 1635, pieceded by tlie " His- 
 doba's very courtly "Felipe Segundo, toria Tragica de la Vida del Du(pie de 
 Rev de Espana," which, as it was pub- Biron," by Juan I'ablo Martyr Rizo, — 
 lished in 1619, probably furnished his on which the play was to a con.siderabie 
 materials to Montalvan, who was not degree founded, although the extrava- 
 prone to wander far for them. See gant character of Doiia Blanca ha.s no 
 Libro V. c. 5; VIL 22; and VIIL 5. warrant in history. The life by Rizo 
 The work of Cabrera is not very well is an int(!resting piece of contcMiporary 
 written, though important to the his- biography, published originally in 1629, 
 torj' of the time, because he had access seven years aft<M- th<' Marshal was exe- 
 to excellent sources of information. He cuted.
 
 376 MOXTALVAX. [Period II. 
 
 remark may be made on the " Escanderljecli," founded 
 on the history of the half-barbarous, half-chivah'ous 
 Lskander Beg, and his conversion to Christianity in the 
 middle of the fifteenth century. We find it. in fact, 
 difficult, at the present day, to believe that pieces like 
 the first of these, in which Polyphemus plays on a 
 guitar, and an island in the earliest ages of Greek 
 tradition sinks into the sea amidst a discharge of 
 squibs and rockets, can have been represented any- 
 "vvhere.^ 
 
 But Montalvan followed Lope in everything, and, 
 like the rest of the dramatic writers of his age, was 
 safe from such censure as he would now receive, be- 
 cause he wrote to satisfy the demands of the popular 
 audiences of Madrid.^ He made the novela, or tale, 
 the chief basis of interest for his drama, and relied 
 mainly on the passion of jealousy to give it life and 
 movement.*^ Bowing to the authority of the court, 
 he avoided, we are told, representing rebellion on the 
 stage, lest he should seem to encourage it ; and was 
 even unwilling to introduce men of rank in degrading 
 situations, for fear disloyalty should l)e implied or im- 
 puted. He would gladly, it is added, have re- 
 * 321 strained his action to twenty-four * hours, and 
 limited each of the three divisions of his full- 
 length dramas to three hundred lines, never leaving 
 the stage empty in either of them. But such rules 
 were not prescribed to him by the popular will, and 
 he wrote too freely and too fast to be more anxious 
 
 '^ Roth of them :ire in tlie fifth day's tlie play, entitled " De \n\ Castigo dos 
 
 enteitaunnents of the " Paia Todos." Venganzas," a play full of honors, 
 
 ^' Preface to " Para Todos." Montalvan declares" the plot to be, — 
 *^ The story of "El Zeloso Estre- Itistorin tan vcnladfra, 
 
 ineno" is altered fioni that of the same Que "" ha ciueucnta semanas 
 
 name by Cervantes, but is indebted to *^"'' »"<*<^'°- 
 
 it lai-gely, and takes the names of sev- Many of his plays are founded on ex- 
 
 eral of its personages. At the end of citing and interesting but familiar tales.
 
 CiiAP. XX. J MONTALVAN. 377 
 
 about observing his own theories tlian his master 
 
 41 
 
 was. 
 
 His ''Most Constant AVife," one of his plays whicli is 
 particularly pleasing, from the firm, yet tender, char- 
 acter of the heroine, was written, he tells us, in 
 four weeks, prepared by the actors in eight days, and 
 represented again and again, until the great relig- 
 ious festival of the spring closed the theiitres.^^ His 
 '• Double Vengeance," with all its honors, was acted 
 twenty-one days successively.*'^ His " No Life like 
 Honor" — one of his more sober efforts — a])peared 
 many times on both the principal theatres of Madrid at 
 the same moment ; — a distinction to which, it is said, 
 no other play had then arrived in Spain, and in which 
 none succeeded it till long afterwards.^ And, in gen- 
 eral, during the period when his dramas were pro- 
 duced, which was the old age of Lope de Vega, no 
 author was heard on the stage with more pleasure than 
 Montalvan, except his great master. 
 
 He had, indeed, his trials and troubles, as all have 
 whose success depends on popular favor. Quevedo, 
 the most unsparing satirist of his time, attacked the 
 less- fortunate parts of one of his works of fiction with 
 a spirit and bitterness all his own ; and, on another 
 occasion, when one of Montalvan's plays had been 
 hissed, wrote him a letter which professed to be (con- 
 solatory, but which is really as little so as can well 
 be imagined.*^ But, notwithstanding such occasional 
 
 *i Pellicer <\e Tobar, in the " Lagri- unbecoming and hard. All this, how- 
 mas," etc., ut supra, gives this account ever, is oidy the system of Lo])e, in his 
 of his friend Montalvan's literary theo- "Arte Nuevo," a little amplified, 
 ries, pp. 146-1.52. He .says that '•^ Para Todos, 1661, p. .508. 
 Montalvan, in the more grave parts of ^'^ Ibid., p. 158. 
 
 Ids plays, employed ociavas, canckme^, ** C. Pellieer, On'geii, Tom. I. p. 202. 
 
 And silvas ; in the tender parts, rfec('»K<.«, ^^ Quevculo, Obras, Tom. XL, 1794,. 
 
 (flosns, and other similar forms ; and pp. 125, 163. An indignant answer 
 
 roraances everywhere ; but that he was made to Quevedo, in the "Tribu- 
 
 avoided dactyles and blank verse, as nal de la Justa Veugaiiza," already no-
 
 378 MOXTALVAX. [rKUioD II. 
 
 * 322 discouragements, * his course was. on the M'hole, 
 fortunate, and he is still to be remembered 
 amons the ornaments of the old national drama of his 
 country. 
 
 tioed. Tlie letter attributed here to have noticed, was a bookseller in Ma- 
 
 Quevedo is printed in the Don Diego drid, reprinted there, without Queve- 
 
 <ie Noche (1623, f. 30) as if it were the do's pemiission, his " Politica de Dies," 
 
 work of Salas Barbadillo ; but it must as soon as it had appeared at Saragossa 
 
 be Quevedo's. The feud was an old in 1626, and Quevedo was very angry 
 
 one. Montalvan's father, who, as we about it.
 
 * CHAPTER XXI. *323 
 
 DRAMA, CONTIXUED. TIRSO DE MOLIXA. MIRA DE MESCUA. VALDIVIELSO. 
 
 ANTONIO DE MENDOZA. RUIZ DE ALARCON. LUIS DE BELMONTE, AND 
 
 OTHERS. EL DIABLO PREDICADOR. OPPOSITION OF LEARNED MEN AND 
 
 OF THE CHURCH TO THE POPULAR DRAMA. A LONG STRUGGLE. TRI- 
 UMPH OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 Another of the persons avIio, fit this time, sought 
 popular favor on the pubhc stage was Gabriel Tellez, 
 an ecclesiastic of rank, better known as Tirso cle Mo- 
 lina, — the name under which he slightly disguised 
 himself when publishing works of a secular character. 
 Of his life we know little, except that he was born in 
 Madrid ; that he was educated at Alcala ; that he 
 entered the Church as early as 1613 ; and that he 
 died in the convent of Soria, of which he was the head, 
 probably in Februar}^, 1648 ; — some accounts repre- 
 senting him to have been sixtj- years old at the time 
 of his death, and some seventy-eight or even eighty.^ 
 
 In other respects we know more of him. As a writ^ 
 er for the theatre, we have five volumes of his dramas, 
 published between 1627 and 1636 ; besides which, a 
 considerable number of his plays can be found scatr 
 tered through his other works, or printed each by 
 itself. His talent seems to have been decidedly dra- 
 matic and satirical ; but the moral tone of his plots is 
 lower than common, and many of his plays contain 
 passages whose indecency has caused them to be so 
 hunted down by the confessional and the Inquisition, 
 
 1 Deleytar Aprovechaiido, Madrid, y Baena, Hijos de Madrid, Tom. II. p. 
 1765, 2 torn., 4to, Prologo. Alvarez 267.
 
 380 TIRSO DE MOLIXA. [1'kiuod II. 
 
 that copies of them are among tlie rarest of 
 * 324 Spanish Ijooks.^ Not a * few of the less offen- 
 sive, however, have maintained their place on 
 the stage, and are still familiar, as popular favorites. 
 
 Of these, the best known ont of Spain is " El Burla- 
 dor de Se villa," or The Seville Deceiver, — the earliest 
 distinct exhibition of that Don Juan who is now seen 
 on every stage in Europe, and known to the lowest 
 classes of Germany, Italy, and Spain, in puppet-shows 
 and street-ballads. The first rudiments for this char- 
 acter — which, it is said, may be traced historically to 
 the great Tenorio family of Seville — had, indeed, been 
 brought upon the stage by Lope de ^'ega, in the sec- 
 ond and third acts of" Money makes the Man" ; where 
 the hero shows a similar firmness and wit amidst the 
 most awful visitations of the unseen world.^ But in 
 the character as sketched by Lope there is nothing 
 revolting. Tirso, therefore, is the first who showed it 
 with all its original undaunted courage united to an 
 unmingled depravity that asks only for selfish gratifi- 
 cations, and a cold, relentless humor that continues to 
 jest when surrounded by the terrors of a supernatural 
 retribution. 
 
 This conception of the character is picturesque, not- 
 
 - Of these five volumes, containing ^ There are some details in this part 
 
 fifty-nine plays, and a number of en- of Lojie's play, such as the mention of 
 
 treiue-sci and ballads, whose titles are a walking stone statue, which leave no 
 
 given in Aribau's Biblioteca, (Madrid, doubt in my mind that Tirso de Jlolina 
 
 1848, Tom. V. p. xxxvi,) I have seen used it. Lope's play is in the tweiity- 
 
 a complete set only in the Imperial Li- fourth volume of his Comedias (Zara- 
 
 brary at Vienna, and have been able goza, 1633); but it is one of his dramas 
 
 with difficulty to collect between thirty that have continued to be reprinted and 
 
 and forty separate plays. Their author read. There is an excellent transla- 
 
 says, however, in tlie Preface to his "Ci- tion of Tirso's " Burlador de Sevilla" 
 
 ganales de Toledo. Q 624,) that he had in the mea.sures of the original, by 
 
 written three hundred; and I believe C. A. Dohm, in his "Spanische Dra- 
 
 about eighty have been printed. There men," Band I., 1841, and another 
 
 is an autograph play of his in the Duke by BraunfeLs, in his " Dramen nach 
 
 of Ossuna's Library, dated Toledo, 30th dem Spanischen," Frankfort, 1856i, 
 
 May, 1613, and his "No peor Sordo" Tom. I. 
 is believed to have been written in 1596.
 
 Chap. XXI.] TIRSO DE MOLINA. 381 
 
 withstand iiig the moral atrocities it involves. It was, 
 therefore, soon carried to Naples, and from Naples to 
 Paris, where the Italian actors took j^ossession of it. 
 The piece tlins produced, which was little more than 
 an Italian translation of Tirso's, had o-reat success in 
 1656 on the boards of that company, then very fash- 
 ionable at the French court. Two or three French 
 translations followed, and in 1665 Moliere 
 brought out his " Festin de * Pierre," in which, * 325 
 taking not only the incidents of Tirso, jjut often 
 his dialogue, he made the real Spanish fiction known 
 to Europe as it had not been known before.^ From 
 this time the strange and wild character conceived by 
 the Spanish poet has gone through the world under 
 the name of Don Juan, followed by a reluctant and 
 shuddering interest, that at once marks what is most 
 peculiar in its conception, and confounds all theories 
 of dramatic interest. Zamora, a writer of the next 
 half-centur}^ in Spain, Thomas Corneille in France, and 
 Lord Byron in England, are the prominent poets to 
 whom it is most indebted for its fame ; though perhaps 
 the genius of Mozart has done more than an}' or all of 
 them to reconcile the refined and elegant to its dark 
 and disgusting horrors.^ 
 
 At home, " The Deceiver of Seville " has never been 
 the most favored of Tirso de Molina's works. That 
 
 * For the way in which this truly has often been acted on the American 
 
 Spanish fiction was spread through Ita- stage. Shadwell's own i)Liy is too gross 
 
 ly to France, and then, bj' means of to be tolerated anywliere nowadays, and 
 
 Moliere, throughout the rest of Europe, besides has no lit('rary merit, 
 see Parfaits, " Histoire du Theatre & That the popularity of the mere 
 
 Fran9ais" (Paris, 12nio, Tom. VIII., fiction of Don Juan lias been preserved 
 
 1746, p. 255 ; Tom. IX., 1746, pp. 3 in Spain may be seen from tlie many 
 
 and 343 ; and Tom. X., 1747, p. 420); recent versions of it; and esjiecially 
 
 and Cailhava, "Art de la Comedie" from the two pla3's of " Don Juan Te- 
 
 (Paris, 1786, 8vo, Tom. II. p. 175). norio " by Zorrilla, (1844, ) and his two 
 
 Shadwell's "Libertine" (1676) is sub- poems, "El Desafio del Diablo," and 
 
 stantially the same storj-, with added " UnTestigode Bronce," (1845,) hardly 
 
 atrocities ; and, if I mistake not, is the less dramatic than the plays that had 
 
 foundation of the short drama wliirh i)receded them.
 
 382 TIRSO DE MOLIXA. [Period II. 
 
 distinction belongs to '• Don Gil in the Green Pan- 
 taloons," perhaps the most strongly marked of the 
 successful intriguing comedies in the language. Dofia 
 Juana, its heroine, a ladj' of Valladolid. who has 
 been shamefully deserted bv her lover, follows him to 
 Madrid, whither he had gone to arrange for himself a 
 more ambitious match. In Madrid, during the fort- 
 night the action lasts, she appears sometimes as a lady 
 named Elvira, and sometimes as a cavalier named Don 
 Gil ; but never once, till the last moment, in her own 
 proper person. In these two assumed characters, she 
 confounds all the plans and plots of her faithless lover ; 
 
 makes his new mistress fall in love with her; 
 * 326 * writes letters to herself, as a cavalier, from 
 
 herself, as a lady ; and passes herself off, some- 
 times for her own lover, and sometimes for other per- 
 sonages merely imaginary. 
 
 Her family at Valladolid, meantime, are made to 
 beheve slie is dead ; and two cavaliers appearing in 
 Madrid, the one from design and the other by acci- 
 dent, in a green dress like the one she wears, (dl three 
 are taken to be one and the same individual, and tlie 
 confusion becomes so unintelligible, that her alarmed 
 lover and her own man-servant — the last of whom 
 had never seen her but in masculine attire at Madrid 
 — are persuaded it is some spirit come among them in 
 the fated green costume, to work out a dire revenge 
 for the wrongs it had suffered in the flesh. At this 
 moment, when the uproar and alarm are at their 
 height, the relations of the parties are detected, and 
 three matches are made instead of the one that had 
 been broken off; — the servant, who had been most 
 frightened, coming in at the instant everything is set- 
 tled, with his hat stuck full of tapers and his clothes
 
 CiiAi-. XXI.] TIKSO DE MOLINA. 383 
 
 covered with pictures of .sjiints, and crying ont, as he 
 scatters holy water in everybody's face : — 
 
 Who Jirays, wlio prays for lu}' iiiast<n''s poor soul, — 
 His soul now suffeiiiig i)urgatoiy's j)ains 
 Within those selfsame pantaloons of green ? 
 
 And when his mistress turns suddenly round and asks 
 him if he is mad, the servant, terror-struck at seeing a 
 lady, instead of a cavalier, with the countenance and 
 voice he at once recognizes, exclaims in horror : — 
 
 I do conjure thee by the wounds — of all 
 
 Who suffer in the hosjjital's worst ward, — 
 
 Abrenuntio ! — Get thee behind me ! 
 JwxrM. Fool ! Don't you see that I am your Don Gil, 
 
 Alive in body, and in mind most sound ? — 
 
 That I am talking here with all these friends. 
 
 And none is frightened but your foolish self ? 
 Servant. Well, then, what are you, sir, — a man or woman ? 
 
 Just tell me that. 
 Juaiia. A woman, to be sure. 
 
 Servant. No more ! enough ! That word explains the whole ; — 
 
 Ay, and if thirty worlds were going mad. 
 
 It would be reason good for all the uproar. 
 
 *The chief characteristic of this play is its * 327 
 •extremely ingenious and involved plot. Few 
 foreigners, perhaps not one, ever comprehended all its 
 intrigue on first reading it, or on first seeing it acted. 
 Yet it has always been one of the most popular plays 
 on the Spanish stage ; and the commonest and most 
 ignorant in the audiences of the great cities of Spain 
 do not find its ingenuities and involutions otherwise 
 than diverting. 
 
 Quite different from either of the preceding dramas, 
 and in some respects better than either, is Tirso's 
 " Bashful Man at Court," — a play often acted, on its 
 first appearance, in Italy, as well as in Spain, and one 
 in which, as its author tells us, a prince of Castile once 
 performed the part of the hero. It is not proj^erly
 
 384 TIRSO DE MOLINA. [ri:i:i<ji) II. 
 
 historical, though partly foimded on the story of Pedro, 
 Duke of Coimbra, who, in 1449, after having been 
 regent of Portugal, was finally despoiled of his power 
 and defeated in an open rebellion.''' Tirso supposes 
 him to have retired to the mountains, and there, dis- 
 guised as a shepherd, to have educated a son in com- 
 plete ignorance of his rank. This son, under the name 
 of Mireno. is the hero of the piece. Findmg himself 
 possessed of nobler sentiments and higher intelligence 
 than those of the rustics among whom he lives, he half 
 suspects that he is of noble origin ; and, escaping from 
 his solitude, appears at court, determined to try his 
 fortune. Accident helps him. He enters the service 
 of the royal favorite, and wins the love of his daughter, 
 who is as free and bold, from an excessive knowledge 
 of the world, as her lover is humble and gentle in his 
 ignorance of it. There his rank is discovered, and the 
 play ends happily. 
 
 A story like this, even with the usual accompaniment 
 of an underplot, is too slight and simple to produce 
 much efiect. But the character of the principal per- 
 sonage, and its gradual development, rendered it 
 long a favorite on the Spanish stage. Nor was this 
 preference unreasonable. His nol)le pride, struggling 
 
 ao-ainst the humble circumstances in which he 
 * 328 finds himself placed ; the suspicion * he hardly 
 
 dares to indulge, that his real rank is equal to 
 his aspirations, — a suspicion which yet governs his 
 life ; and the modesty which tempers the most am- 
 bitious of his thoughts, form, when taken together, one 
 of the most lofty and beautiful ideals of the old Cas- 
 tilian character.^ 
 
 ^ Cronioa de D. Juan el Scgiindo, ad ]>rinted as earlj' as 1624, in the "Cigar- 
 
 ann. ralos de Toledo," (Madrid, 1624, 4to, 
 
 7 The "Vergonzoso en Palacio" was p. 100,) and took its name, I suppose.
 
 Chap. XXI.] TlliSO I)E MOLINA. dbO 
 
 Some of Tirso's secuhir (Iminas deal chiefly in recent 
 events and well-settled history, like his trilogy on the 
 achievements of the Pi/arros in the New World, and 
 their love-adventures at home. Others are founded on 
 facts, but with a larger admixture of fiction, like the 
 one on the election and pontificate of Sixtus Quintus. 
 But his religious dramas and autos are as extravagant 
 as those of the other poets of his time, and could 
 hardly be more so. 
 
 His mode of treating his subjects seems to be capri- 
 cious. Sometimes he begins his dramas with great 
 naturalness and life, as in one that opens with the 
 «iccidents of a bull-fight,^ and in another, with the con- 
 fusion consequent on the upsetting of a coach ; ^ while, 
 at other times, he seems not to care how tedious he is, 
 and once breaks ground in the first act with a speech 
 above four hundred lines long.^*^ Perhaps the most 
 characteristic of his openings is in his '' Love for 
 Reasons of State," where we have, at the outset, a 
 scene before a lady's balcony, a rope-ladder, and a duel, 
 all full of Castilian spirit. His more obvious defects 
 are the too great similarity of his characters and inci- 
 dents ; the too frequent introduction of disguised ladies 
 to help on the intrigue; and the needless and shame- 
 less indelicacy of some of his stories, — a favdt ren- 
 dered more remarkable by the circumstance, that he 
 himself was an ecclesiastic of rank, and honored in 
 Madrid as a public preacher. His more uniform merits 
 are an invention which seems never to tire or to 
 become exhausted ; a most happy power of gay 
 narration ; an extraordinary command of his native 
 
 from a Spanish proverb, "Mozo ver- * " La Leal tad contra la En vidia." 
 
 gonzoso no es para ])alacio," — "At ^ " Por el Sotano y el Torno. " 
 
 court in truth a bashful youtli can liud ^^ " Escarmientos para Cuerdos." 
 no place at all." 
 
 VOL. II. 25
 
 386 MIRA DE 3IESCUA. [Pekiud II. 
 
 * 329 * Castilian ; and a rich and flowing versification 
 in all the many varieties of metre demanded by 
 the audiences of the capital, who were Ijecome more 
 nice and exacting in this, perhaj^s. than in any other 
 single accessory of the drama. 
 
 But however various and capricious were the forms 
 of Tirso's drama, he was, in substance, always a fol- 
 lower of Lope de Vega, and one Avho succeeded in vin- 
 dicatmg for himself a place very near his great master. 
 That he was of the school of Lope, he himself dis- 
 tincth' anuomices, boasting of it. and entering, at the 
 same time, into an ingenious and elaborate defence of 
 its principles and practice, as opposed to those of the 
 classical school ; a defence which, it is worthy of notice, 
 Avas published twelve years before the appearance of 
 Corneille's " Cid," and which, therefore, to a consider- 
 able extent, anticipated in Madrid the remarkable con- 
 troversy about the unities occasioned by that tragedy 
 in Paris after 1636,^^ and sul)sequently made the foun- 
 dation of the dramatic schools of Corneille, Racine, and 
 Voltaire. 
 
 Contemporary with these events and discussions lived 
 Antonio Mira de Mescua, well known from 1602 to 1635 
 
 " Cigarrales de Toledo, 1624^, pp. Bayitist, — is divided into fiv'e acts, has 
 
 183-188. In 1631, there was pub- a chorus, and is confined in its action 
 
 lished at Milan a small volume in within the limits of twenty-four hours ; 
 
 12mo, entitled " Favores de las Musas • — "para que se vea," says the editor, 
 
 hechas a D. Sebastian Francisco de ile- "que ay en Espana quien lo sabe hacer 
 
 drano en varias Kimas y Poesias que con todo piimor." This was live years 
 
 compuso en la mas celebre Academia de before the date of Corneille's Cid. The 
 
 ^Madiid, donde fue Presidente mentis- volume in (juestion was to have been 
 
 simo." It was edited by Alonso de Cas- followed by others, but none api>eared, 
 
 tillo Solorzano, the well-known writer though its author did not die till 
 
 of tales, and contains a little bad lyri- 1653. " 
 
 cal j)oetn-, and three plays not much I cannot help adding that a great 
 
 Ijetter. The author, 1 suppose, is not deal more has been said about the 
 
 the same with Francisco de Medrano, "unities" as ]ieculiar to the French 
 
 to be noticed hereafter among the IjTi- school in modem times than belongs to 
 
 cal poets, and I should hardly mention the case. It seems to me from tlie five 
 
 the present volume, if it were not that choruses in Hcniy V. that Shakespare 
 
 one of its plays, — " El Luzero Eclip- understood the whole matter as well as 
 
 sado," — on the subject of John the Cardinal Piichelieu did.
 
 Chap. XX I] MIRA DE MESCUA. 387 
 
 as a writer for the stage, and iniicli praised by Cervan- 
 tes and Lope de Vega. He was a native of Guadix in 
 the kinu^loni of Granada, and in ]iis voiith Ijecanie arch- 
 deacon of its cathedral; but in 1610 he was at Naples, 
 attached to the poetical coiu't of the Count de Lemos, 
 and in 1620 he gained a prize in Madrid, where he died 
 in 1635 while in the office of chaplain to Philip 
 the * Fourth. He Avrote secular plays, mdos, * 330 
 and lyrical poetry ; but his works were never 
 collected and are now found with difficulty, though not 
 a few of his lighter compositions are in nearly all the 
 respectable selections of the national poetry from his 
 own time to the present. His manner was very un- 
 equal. 
 
 He, like Tirso de Molina, was an ecclesiastic of rank, 
 but did not escape the troubles common to writers for 
 the stage. One of his dramas, " The Unfortunate Ra- 
 chel," founded on the fable which represents Alfonso 
 the Eighth as having nearly sacrificed his crown to his 
 passion for a Jewess of Toledo, was much altered, by 
 authority, before it could be acted, though Lope de 
 Vega had been permitted to treat the same subject at 
 large in the same way, in the nineteenth book of his 
 "Jerusalem Conquered." Mira de Mescua, too, was 
 concerned in the drama of " The Curate of Madrilejos," 
 which, as we have seen, was forbidden to be read or 
 acted even after it had been printed. Still, there is no 
 reason to suppose he did not enjoy the consideration 
 usually granted to successful writers for the theatre. 
 At least, we know he was much imitated. His " Slave 
 of the Devil " was not only remodelled and reproduced 
 by Moreto in " Fall to rise again," but was freely used 
 by Calderon in two of his best-known dramas. His 
 " Gallant both Brave and True " was employed by
 
 388 YALDIVIELSO. [Period II. 
 
 Aliircoii ill •• The Trial of Husbands." And his " Pahice 
 in Confusion " is the groundwork of Corneille's " Don 
 
 Saneho of Aragon." ^' 
 * 331 * Joseph de Valdivielso, another ecclesiasdc 
 
 of high condition, was also a writer for the stag-e 
 at the same time. He was connected Avitli the g-reat 
 cathedral of Toledo, and with its princely primate, the 
 Cardinal Infante. But he lived in Madrid, where he 
 was a member of the same religious cono-reg-ation with 
 Cervantes and Lope, and where he was intimately asso- 
 ciated with the principal men of letters of his time. 
 He flourished from about 1G07 to about 1633, and can 
 be traced, during the Avhole of that period, by his cer- 
 tificates of approbation, and by commendatory verses 
 which were prefixed to the works of his friends as they 
 successively appeared. His own publications are al- 
 most entirely religious ; — those for the stage consist- 
 ing of a single volume printed in 1622. and containing 
 twelve autos and two religious plays. 
 
 The twelve cmfos seem, from internal evidence, to 
 have been written for the cit}^ of Toledo, and certainly 
 to have been performed there, as well as in other cities 
 of Spain. He selected them from a large number, and 
 
 12 The notices of Mira de Mescua, or can be found only separate, or in col- 
 
 Amescua, as he is sometimes called, are lections made for other pui-poses. See, 
 
 scattered like his works. He is men- also, in relation to Mira de Mescua, 
 
 tioned in Itoxas, " Viage " (1602); and Montalvan, "Para Todos," the Cata- 
 
 I have his " Desgiaciada Kacjuel," logue at the end ; and Pellicer, Bibli- 
 
 both in a printed copy, where it is at- oteca, Tom. I. p. 89. The story on 
 
 tributed to Diamante, and in an auto- which the " Kaijuel " is founded is a 
 
 graph MS., wlu-re it is sadly cut up to fiction, and therefore need not so much 
 
 suit the ecclesia,stical censors, whose have disturbed the censors of the thea- 
 
 permission to represent it is dated tre. (Castro, Cronica de Saneho el 
 
 April 10, 1635. Guevara indicates Deseado, Alonso el Octavo, etc., Ma- 
 
 his birthplace and ecclesiastical office drid, 1665, folio, pp. 90, etc.) Two 
 
 in the " Diablo Cojuelo," Tranco VI. aiitos by Mira de Mescua are to be 
 
 Antonio (Bib. Nov., ad verb.) gives found in " Na%'idad y Corpus Christi 
 
 him extravagant prai.se, and says that Festejadcs, " Madrid, 1664, 4to, and a 
 
 his dramas were collected and published few of his mi.scellaneous ])oems in Ri- 
 
 together. But thi.s, I believe, is a mis- vadeneyra's Biblioteca, Tom. XLII., 
 
 take. Like his shorter poems, they 1857.
 
 CiiAP. XXL] VALDIVIELSO. 389 
 
 they undoubtedly enjoyed, during his hletime, a wide 
 popuhirity. Some, pei'haps, deserved it. " The Prodi- 
 gal Son," long a tempting subject wherever religious 
 •dramas were known, was treated with more than 
 usual skill. " Psyche and Cupid," too, is better uian- 
 aged for Christian purposes than that mj'stical fancy 
 commonly was by the poets of the Spanish theatre. 
 And " The Tree of Life " is a well-sustained allegory, 
 in which the old theological contest between Divine 
 Justice and Divine Mercy is carried through in tlie old 
 theological spirit, beginning with scenes in Paradise 
 and ending with the appearance of the Saviour. But, 
 in general, the autos of Valdivielso are not better than 
 those of his contemporaries. 
 
 His two plays are not so good. '^ The Birth of the 
 Best," as the Madonna is often technically called, and 
 " The Guardian Angel," which is, again, an allegory, 
 not unlike that of " The- Tree of Life," are both of 
 them crude and wild compositions, even within the 
 broad limits permitted to the religious drama. 
 One * reason of their success may perhaps be * 332 
 found in the fact, that they have more of the 
 tone of the elder poetry than almost any of the sacred 
 plays of the time ; — a remark that may be extended 
 to the aiitos of Valdivielso, in one of which there is a 
 spirited parody of the well-known ballad on the chal- 
 lenge of Zamora after the murder of Sanclio the Brave. 
 But the social position of their author, and perhaps his 
 quibbles and quaintnesses, which humored the l)ad 
 taste of his age, must be taken into consideration be- 
 fore we can account for the extensive popularity he 
 undoubtedly enjoyed.^^ 
 
 1' Antonio, Rib. Nova, Tom. I. p. sess are "Doce Autos Sacranientales y 
 521. His dramatic works whicli I pes- dos Comedias Diviuas," por el Maestro
 
 390 AXTOXIO DE MEXDOZA. [Pei!Iod II. 
 
 Another sort of favor fell to the .share of Antonio de 
 Mendoza, who wrote much for the conrt between 1623 
 and 1643, and died in 1644. His Works — besides a 
 nnmber of ballads and short poems addressed to the 
 Duke of Lerma and other prinei])al persons of the 
 kingdom — contain a Life of Our Lady, in nearly eight 
 hundred rcdondillas, and five plays, to Avhich several 
 more may be added from different miscellaneous collec- 
 tions. The poems are of little value ; the pla3S are 
 better. " He Deserves Most who Loves Most" may 
 have contributed materials to Moreto's '' Disdain met 
 with Disdain," and is certainly a pleasant drama, with 
 natural situations and an easy dialogue. '' Society 
 changes Manners " is another real comedy with much 
 life and gayety. And " Love for Love's Sake," which 
 has been called its author's happiest effort, but which 
 is immensely long and aljoiuids in instances of bad 
 taste, enjoyed the distinction of being acted before the 
 court by the queen's maids of honor, who took all the 
 parts, — those of the cavaliers, as well as those of the 
 women.^* 
 
 Joseph fie Valdivielso, Toledo, 162'2, not colleeted till long after his death, 
 4to, 183 leaves. Compare the old bal- and were then printed from a uiauu- 
 lad, "Yacabalga Diego Ordonez," which script found in the libraiy of the Arch- 
 can be traced to the Eomanceroof 1550- bishop of Lisbon, Luis de Souza, under 
 1555, with the "Cronica del Cid," c. 66, the affected title, "El Feuix Castellano, 
 and the "Cautivos Libres," f. 25, a, of D. Antonio de Mendoza, lenascido," 
 the Ui)ce Autos. It will show how the etc., an excessively rare book, eontain- 
 old ballads rang in the ears of all men, ing the five "comedias" and other 
 ami i)enetrated everywhere into Spanish works {Lisboa, 1690, 4to). The only 
 ]ioetry. There is a nacimicnto oi \a\- notices of consequence that I find of 
 divifiso in the "Navidad y Corpus him are in Montalvan's " Para Todos," 
 Christi," mentioned in the preceding and in Antonio, Bib. Nova. A second 
 note ; but it is verj' slight and poor. edition of his works, with trifling ad- 
 Montalvan, who is a good authority, ditions, ap])eared at iladrid in 1728, 
 says in the dedication of his "Amantes 4to. "Querer por .solo querer," wliich 
 de Teruel," that as a wiiter of autos Avas acted at Aranjuez for the fiesta of 
 ValdivieLso was the first of his time. Philip IV. in 1623, was translated, in 
 This wa.s aboiit 1636, and therefore be- light verse, by Sir Richard Fanshawe, 
 fore Calderon's great succes.s. who wa.s sent as amba.ssador to Madrid 
 1* I have a copy of his " Vida de by both Charles I. and Charles II., and 
 Nue.stra Sefiora," published by his died there in 1666. His version, like 
 nephew in 1652, but liis works were an uncommoidy large proiwitioii of the
 
 Chap. XXI.] RUIZ I)E ALAHCOX. 391 
 
 * Ruiz de Alarcon.who was his contcmporaiy, * 333 
 was less favored during his hfetiiiie tlian Meii- 
 doza, but has much more merit. lie was born at 
 Tasco, in Mexico, ))ut was descended from a family 
 that belonged to Alarcon in the mother country. As 
 early as 1622 he was in Madrid, and assisted in the 
 composition of a poor play in honor of the Marquis of 
 Caiiete for his victories in Arauco, which was the joint 
 work of nine persons. In 1628, he published the first 
 volume of his Dramas, on the title-])age of which he 
 calls himself Prolocutor of die Royal Coiuuul for the 
 Indies ; a place both of trust and profit. It is dedi- 
 cated to the Duke of Medina de las Torres, but it con- 
 tains also an address to the Publico Vulgar, or the Rab- 
 ble, in a tone of savage contempt for the audiences of 
 Madrid, wdiich, if it intimates that he had been ill- 
 treated on the stage, proves also that he felt strong 
 enough to defy his enemies. To the eight plays con- 
 tained in this volume he added twelve more in 1635, 
 with a Preface, which, again, leaves little doubt that 
 his merit was undervalued, as he says he found it diffi- 
 cult to vindicate for himself even the authorship of 
 not a few of the plays he had written. He died in 
 1639.1^ 7 
 
 original play, is rhymed, and is among him "LaToqiiera Vizcayna," says neat- 
 tlie very curious and rare hooks in the ly, that he does it on condition that 
 English language. It is cited in the Mendoza shall forget his own dramas, 
 preface to Lady Fanshawe's Memoirs, i» Alarcon seems, in consequence of 
 as if published in 1671, but my copy is these remonstrances, or perhaps in con- 
 dated 1670. At the end is an account, sequence of the temper in which they 
 also translated from Mendoza, of a series were made, to have drawn uj)on hiin- 
 of magnificent allegorical festivities the self a series of attacks from the poets 
 preceding year at Aranjuez, evidently of the time, G6ng07-a, Lope de Vega, 
 very brilliant, and described in the very Mendoza, Montalvan, and otliers, some 
 spirit of a fantastic Oa.stilian courtier. of whom stoop so low as to ridicule him 
 Notices of Meudoza's honors may be for an nnhappy deformity of his jici'son. 
 found in Schack's Nachtrage, p. 92. Si^e Puibu.sfpie, Histoire Comjiai-ee des 
 He was one of the Royal Secretaries, Litteratures Es])agnol(! et Fi'an(;aise, 2 
 but what was of vastly more conse- torn., 8vo, Paiis, 184:?, Tom. II. p]». 
 quence, he was Secretary of the Inqui- l.'io- 164, and 4:50- 487 ; — a book wiit- 
 .sitioii. ^lontalvan, when dedicating to ten with nnich taste and knowledge of
 
 392 ItUIZ DE ALAECOX. [Peuiud II. 
 
 * 334 * His " Domingo de Don Bias," one of the few 
 uiuoiig his works not found in the collection 
 printed by hhuself, is a sketch of the character of a 
 gentleman sunk into luxury and efleminacv by the 
 possession of a large fortune suddenly won from the 
 Moors in the time of Alfonso the Third of Ijcon ; but 
 who, at the call of duty, rouses himself again to his 
 earlier energy, and shows the old Castilian character 
 in all its loyalty and generosity. The scene where he 
 refuses to risk his person in a bull-fight, merely to 
 amuse the Infante, is full of hiunor, and is finelj- con- 
 trasted, first, with the scene where he runs all risks in 
 defence of the same prince, and afterwards, still more 
 fmely, with that where he sacrifices the prince, because 
 he had failed in loyalty to his father. 
 
 '- How to gain Friends " giyes us another exhibition 
 of the principle of loyalty in the time of Peter the 
 Cruel, who is here represented onlj^ as a seyere, but 
 just, administrator of the law in seasons of great trou- 
 ble. His minister and fiivorite, Pedro de Luna, is one 
 of the most noble characters offered to us in the whole 
 range of the Spanish drama ; — a character belonging 
 to a class in which Alarcon has seyeral times suc- 
 ceeded. 
 
 A better-known play than either, howeyer, is the 
 " Weaver of Segovia." It is in two parts. In the 
 first, — which is not believed to be by Alarcon, and is 
 of inferior merit, — its hero, Fernando Ramirez, is rep- 
 resented as suffering the most cruel injustice at the 
 hands of his sovereign, who has put his father to death 
 under a false imputation of treason, and reduced Ra- 
 mirez himself to the misery of earning his subsistence, 
 
 the subject to \vlii(-li it relates. It wliere the date of Alaicoii's death is 
 gained the prize of 1842. See, also, given by Pellizer y Tobar. 
 ♦Seiuanaiio Ermlito, Tom. XXXI. p. 1)1,
 
 riiAP. XXL] RUIZ DE ALAKCON 393 
 
 disguised «is a weaver. Six years elapse, and in the 
 second part he appears again, stung by new wrongs 
 and associated with a band of robbers, at whose head, 
 after spreading terror through the mountain 
 ransce of the * Guadarrama, he renders such ser- * 335 
 vice to his migrateful king, in the crisis of a 
 battle against the Moors, and extorts sucli confessions 
 of his own and his fither's innocence from their dying 
 enemy, that he is restored to favor, and becomes, in 
 the Oriental style, the chief person in the kingdom he 
 has rescued. He is, in fact, another Charles de Molir, 
 but has the advantage of being placed in a period of 
 the world and a state of society where such a character 
 is more possible than in the period assigned to it by 
 Schiller, though it can never be one fitted for exhibi- 
 tion in a drama that claims to have a moral purpose. 
 
 "Truth itself Suspected" is, on the other hand, 
 obviously written for such a purpose. It gives us the 
 character of a young man, the son of a high-minded 
 father, and himself otherwise amiable and interesting, 
 who comes from the University of Salamanca to begin 
 the world at Madrid, with an invincible habit of lying. 
 The humor of the drama, whicli is really great, consists 
 in the prodigious fluency with which he invents all 
 sorts of fictions to suit his momentary purposes ; the 
 ingenuity with which he struggles against the true 
 current of facts, although it runs every moment more 
 and more strongly against him ; and the finjil result, 
 when, nobody believing him, he is reduced to the ne- 
 cessity of telling the truth, and — by a mistake which 
 he now finds it impossible to persuade any one he has 
 really committed — loses the lady he had won, and is 
 overwhelmed with shame and disgrace. 
 
 Parts of this drama are full of spirit ; such as the
 
 394 RUIZ DE ALARCOX. [Period II. 
 
 description of a student's life at tlie University, and 
 that of a brilliant festival given to a lady on the banks 
 of the Manzanares ; both tinged with the Gongorism 
 becoming a fop of the period. These, with the exhor- 
 tations of the young man's father, intended to cure him 
 of his shameful fiiult, and not a little of the dialoo;ue 
 between the hero — if he may be so called — and his 
 servant, are excellent. It is the piece from which 
 Corneille took the materials for his " Menteur," and 
 thus, in 1642, laid the foundations of classical French 
 comedy in a play of Alarcon, as, six years before, 
 
 lie had laid the foundations for its classical 
 *336 tragedy* in the "Cid" of Guillen de Castro. 
 
 Alarcon, however, was then so little known, that 
 Corneille honestly supposed himself to be using a play 
 of Lope de Vega, and said so ; though it should be re- 
 membered, that when, some years afterwards, he found 
 out his mistake, he did Alarcon the justice to restore 
 him to his rio;hts, addino; that he would gladlv give the 
 two best plays he had ever written to be the author of 
 the one he had so freely used. 
 
 It would not be difficult to find other dramas of 
 Alarcon showing equal judgment and spirit. Such, in 
 fact, is the one entitled " Walls have Ears," which, 
 from its mode of exhibiting the ill consequences of 
 slander and mischief-making, may be regarded as the 
 counterpart to "Truth itself Suspected." And such, 
 too, is the " Trial of Husbands," which has had the for- 
 tune to pass under the names of Lope de Vega and 
 Montalvan, as well as of its true author, and would 
 cast no discredit on either of them.^^ But it is enough 
 to add to what we have already said of Alarcon, that 
 
 ^® It reminds me of that part of the Belmont, and T am not sure Init its 
 Merchant of Venice whicli puiises at story goes back to a common source.
 
 Chap. XXI.] VAEIOUS DRAMATISTS. 395 
 
 his style is excellent, — generally better than that of 
 any but the very best of his contemporaries, — with 
 less richness, indeed, than that of Tirso de Molina, 
 and adhering more to the old ballnd measure than 
 that of Lope, but purer in versificjition than either 
 of them, more simple and more natural; so that, on 
 the' whole, he is to be ranked wdth the very l^est Span- 
 ish dramatists during the best period of the national 
 theatre.^" 
 
 * Other writers who devoted themselves to * 337 
 the drama were, however, as well known at 
 the time they lived as he was, if not always as much 
 valued. Among them may be mentioned Luis de Bel- 
 monte, whose "Renegade of Yalladolid " and "God 
 the best Guardian" are sino-nlar mixtures of what is 
 sacred with what is profane ; Jacinto Cordero, whose 
 "Victory through Love" was long a favorite on the 
 stage ; Andres Gil Enriquez, the author of a pleasant 
 play called " The Net, the Scarf, and the Picture " ; 
 Diego Ximenez de Enciso, who wrote grave historical 
 plays on the life of Charles the Fifth at Yuste, and on 
 the death of Don Carlos ; Geronimo de Villaizan, whose 
 
 1'^ Repertorio Americano, Tom. III. care and taste, (Biblioteca de Autores 
 
 p. 61, Tom. IV. p. 93 ; Denis, Chro- Espanoles, Tom. XX., 1852,) by D. 
 
 niques de I'Espagne, Paris, 1839, 8vo, Juan Eugenic de Hartzenbusch. Their 
 
 Tom. II. p. 231 ; Comedias Escogidas, number is twentv-seven, and among 
 
 Tom. XXVIII., 1667, p. 131. Cor- them is the i^'n-s^ Part of the " Te.xedor 
 
 neille's opinion of the " Verdad So.spe- de Segovia," which, as Alarcon pub- 
 
 chosa," which is often misquoted, is to lished the Second Part in his second 
 
 be found in his " E.xamen du Menteur." volume, without any allusion to a first 
 
 I will only add, in relation to Alarcon, one, we suppose, as Hartzenbusch does, 
 
 that, in " Nunca mucho costo poco," there is good ground for believing not 
 
 he has given us the character of an im- to be his. There is also internal evi- 
 
 perious old nurse, which is well drawn, denee, I think, to the same effect. 
 and made effective by the use of pic- There is a French translation of five 
 
 turesque, but antiquated, words and of the plays of Alarcon and abstracts 
 
 phrases. of the rest by Alphonse Koyer, 1865. 
 
 Since the first edition of this work If anybody would like to see how a 
 
 Avas published, (1849,) all tlie plays at- Spanish comcdia can be spoiled, I 
 
 tributed to Alai-con, including one to commend him to Royer's version of the 
 
 which he was only a contrilmtor, and " Ganar Amigos." It is the only one 
 
 two whose genuineness is doubtful, have in verse. The four others are in prose, 
 
 been collected and published, with much and are better.
 
 396 VARIOUS DRAMATISTS. [Pekiod XL 
 
 best play is "A Great Remedy for a Great Wrong"; 
 and many others, such as Carlos Boil, Felipe Godinez, 
 Miguel Sanchez, and Rodrigo de Herrera, Avho shared, 
 in an inferior degree, the Itivor of the popular audiences 
 at Madrid.i^ 
 
 Writers distinguished in other branches of literature 
 were also tempted by the success of those devoted to 
 the stage to adventure for the brilliant prizes it scat- 
 tered on all sides. Salas Barbadillo, who wrote many 
 pleasant tales and died in 1635, left behind him two 
 dramas, of which one claims to be in the manner of 
 Terence.^^ Solorzano, who died ten years later, and 
 was known in the same forms of elegant literature with 
 Barbadillo, is the author of a spirited play, founded 
 on the story of a lady, who, after having accepted a 
 noble lover from interested mo^tives, gives him up for 
 
 the servant of that lover, put forward in dis- 
 * 338 guise, as if he * were possessor of the very 
 
 estates for which she had accepted his master.^ 
 Gongora wrote one play, and parts of two others, still 
 
 1** The pla3's of tliese autliors are think, hy Antonio, by Lope de Vega, 
 found in the large collection entitled or by the common historians of Seville, 
 "Comedias Escogidas," Madriil, 1652- where he was born) wrote a considerable 
 1704, 4to, with the exception of those number of plays, to be found in the old 
 of Sanchez and Villaizan, which I pos- collections. He was alive in 1644, and 
 sess separate ; of Sanchez one, of Vil- enjoyed a good reputation in his time, 
 laizan two. Of Belmonte, who is the ^^ The plays of Salas Barbadillo, viz. 
 author of the "Sastre del Campillo," "Victoria de Espaha y Francia " and 
 commonly attributed to Lope de Vega, " El (lalan Tram])oso y Pobre," are in 
 (see Shack's Nachtrage, 1854, p. 62,) his " Coronas del Parnaso," left for pub- 
 there are eleven in the collection, and lication at his death, and pnbli.shed the 
 of Godinez, live. Tliose of Miguel San- same year, 1635, Madrid, 12nio. Other 
 chez, who was very famous in his time, dramas by him are scattered through 
 and obtained the addition to his name his other Works, — some of them called 
 of El Diviwj, are nearly all lost ; but comedias antUjuas, by which he means 
 his " Guarda Cuidado.sa " may be found cntremcses, becau.se tliev were like the 
 in the '* Difirentes Comedias," Parte early dramas of Lopi; de Kueda a d his 
 v., 1616, mentioned ante, p. 297, note school, wliich weie used as entremescs 
 5. I observe fj-om the " Noches de in the time of Harhadilio. 
 Plazer" of Castillo Solorzano, (1631, f. ^o j^ jg called "El Mayorazgo," and 
 5, b,) tliat Diego Ximenez de Enciso was is found with its ha at the end of the 
 a native of Seville and a Veintcqiuitro author's " Alivins de Casandra," 1640. 
 of that city. Felipe Godinez (who is Several other dramas are found scat- 
 luentioned by Cervantes, but not, I tered through his tale.
 
 Cii.vr. XX].] PHILIP THE FOURTH. 397 
 
 preserved in the collection oi" his Works ;-^ and Que- 
 vedo, to please the great favorite, the Count Duke 
 Olivares, assisted in the composition of at least a single 
 drama, which is now lost, if it be not preserved, under 
 another name, in the works of Antonio de Mendoza."^ 
 But the circumstances of chief consequence in relation 
 to all these writers are, that they belonged to the 
 school of Lope de Vega, and that they bear witness 
 to the vast popularity of his drama in their time, 
 which could control men such as they were. 
 
 Indeed, so attractive was the theatre now become, 
 that ecclesiastics and the higher nobilit}', who, from 
 their j^osition in society, did not wish to be known as 
 dramatic authors, still wrote for the stage, sending 
 their plays to the actors or to the press anonymously. 
 Such persons generally announced their dramas as 
 written by " A Wit of this Court," — JJn Ingenio de esta 
 Corte, — and a large collection of pieces could now be 
 made, wdiich are known only under this mask ; a mask, 
 it may be observed, often significant of the pretensions 
 of those whom it claims partly to conceal. Even Philip 
 the Fourth, who was a lover of the arts and of letters, 
 is said to have sometimes used it ; and there is a com- 
 mon tradition, but an erroneous one, that " Giving my 
 Life for my Lady, or The Earl of Essex," was his. 
 Possibly, however, one or two other plays were either 
 from his hand, or indebted to his poetical talent and 
 skill. But even this is not wary probable.^^ 
 
 21 These are, "Las Firmezas de Isa- p. l77.) This play is lost, iinless, as 
 
 bela," " El Doctor Carlino," and "La I suspect, it is the " Kinpenos di-l Jleu- 
 
 Comedia Venatoria," — the last two un- tir," that occurs in Meudoza's Works, 
 
 finished, and the very last allegorical. 1690, pp. 254-296. There are also 
 
 2^ The jilay written to please the four cwi7-e??M;.5c.sof Quevedoin his Work.s, 
 
 Count Duke was by Quevedo and An- 1791, Vol. IX. 
 
 tonio de Mendoza, and was entitled '•** Philip IV. was a lover of letters. 
 
 " Quien mas niieiitc niedra mas," — Tran.slations of Franci'sco Guicciardini's 
 
 "He that lies most will ri.se most." " Wars in Italy," and of the " Descrij)- 
 
 (C. Pellicer, Origeu del Teatro, Tom. I. tion of the Low Countries," by liis
 
 398 
 
 EL DIABLO PEEDICADOE. 
 
 [Pkkiud IL 
 
 139 
 
 * One of the most remarkable of these '• Co- 
 
 medias de mi Ingenio " is that called "• The Devil 
 turned Preacher." Its scene is laid in Lucca, and its 
 original ]nn*pose seems to have been to glorif}* Saint 
 Francis, and to strengthen the influence of his follow- 
 ers. x\t any rate, in the long introductory speech of 
 Lucifer, that potentate represents himself as most 
 happy at having so far triumphed over these his great 
 enemies, that a poor community of Franciscans, estab- 
 lished in Lucca, is likely to be starved out of the city 
 by the universal ill-will he has excited against tliem. 
 But his triumph is short. Saint Michael descends with 
 the infant Saviour in his arms, and requires Satan him- 
 self immediately to reconvert the same inhabitants 
 whose hearts he had hardened ; to build up the very 
 convent of the holy 1)rotlierhood which he had so 
 nearly overthrown ; and to place the poor friars, who 
 
 nephew, Luigi Guicciardiiii, made by 
 Philip, and preceded by a well-written 
 Prologo, are said to be iu the National 
 Librarj- at Madrid. (C. Pellicer, Ori- 
 gen, Tom. L p. 162 ; Huerta, Teatro 
 Hespauol, Madrid, 1785, 12mo, Parte 
 I., Tom. IlL p. 159 : and Ochoa, Tea- 
 tro, Paris, 18-38, 8vo, Tom. V. p. 98.) 
 "King Henry tlie Feeble" is also 
 among the plaj^s .sometimes ascribed to 
 Philip IV., who is .said to have often 
 joined in improvisatiug drama-s, — an 
 amusement well known at the court of 
 Aladrid, and at the hardly less s]>lendid 
 court of the Count de Lemos at Naples. 
 C. Pellicer, Teatro, Tom. L p. 163, and 
 J. A. Pellicer, Bib. de Traductores, 
 Tom. L pp. 90-92, where a curious 
 account, already leferred to, is given of 
 one of these Neapolitan exhibitioiLS, by 
 Estrada, who witnes.sed it. But I have 
 great doubts concerning all these sug- 
 gestions. That Philip IV. did not 
 write the "C'onde de Se.v," which I 
 possess in Vol. XXXI. of the Difercntcs 
 Comedias, 16.36, is .settled by Schack, 
 (Nachtrage, 1854, p. 102,) who found 
 the original in the autograph of Coello, 
 a known dramatist who died in 1652. 
 It may be well to add, however, when 
 
 speaking of this ]>lay, that there is a 
 very acute and extended e.xamiuation 
 of it by Ijcssing, who, with Wieland, 
 gave the tirst impulse to that love for 
 Spanish literature in Gennany which 
 the Schlegels, Bouterwek, and Schack 
 have since so well sustained. (See 
 Hamburgische Dramaturgic, Berlin, 
 1805, Tom. II. pp. 58-126.) But as 
 to Philip IV., to whom poems are at- 
 tributed in the Biblioteca of Rivade- 
 neyra, (Tom. XLII., 1857, pp. 151, 
 152,) and in the Spanish translation of 
 this History, (Tom. II. p. 563,) I doubt 
 the genuineness of all of them. Philip 
 IV. was a sensualist, — not, indeed, 
 without a taste for letters and the arts, 
 — but not an author in any proper 
 sense of tlic word. And yet one of the 
 court Hatterers of the time could say of 
 him : " Es de los mas perfetos musicos 
 y mas felices poetas que oy se conocen, 
 sin que para esta verdad sea menester 
 de valernos de la li.sonja."' Pellicer de 
 Sala.s, Lecciones solennes de Gongora, 
 1630, col. 696, 697. The two sonnets 
 attributed to Don Carlos of Austria, 
 brother of Philip IV., are probably his, 
 and are not bail for a prince. Rivade- 
 neyra, 1. c. p. 153.
 
 €HAP. XXI.] EL DIABLO PKEDiCADOR. 399 
 
 were now pelted by the boys in the streets, upon a 
 foundation of respectabiKty safer than that from which 
 he had driven them. Tlie humoi- of the piece consists 
 in his conduct while executing the imwelcome task 
 thus imposed upon him. To do it, he takes, at once, 
 the habit of the monks he detests ; he goes 
 round to beg for them ; * he superintends the * 340 
 erection of an ampler edifice for their accom- 
 modation ; he preaches ; he prays ; he works miracles ; 
 — and all with the greatest earnestness and unction, 
 in order the sooner to be rid of a business so thoroughly 
 disagreeable to him, and of which he is constantly com- 
 plaining in equivocal phrases and bitter side-speeches, 
 that give him the comfort of expressing a vexation he 
 cannot entirely control, but dares not openly make 
 known. At last he succeeds. The hateful work is 
 done. But the agent is not dismissed with honor. 
 On the contrary, he is obliged, in the closing scene, to 
 confess who he is, and to avow that nothing, after all, 
 awaits him but the flames of perdition, into which he 
 visibly sinks, like another Don Juan, before the edified 
 audience. 
 
 The action occupies above five months. It has an 
 intriguing underplot, which hardly disturbs the course 
 of the main story, and one of whose personages — the 
 heroine herself — is gentle and attractive. The char- 
 acter of the Father Guardian of the Franciscan monks, 
 full of simplicity, humble, trustful, and submissive, is 
 also finely drawn ; and so is the opposite one, — the 
 gracioso of the piece, — a liar, a coward, and a glutton ; 
 ignorant and cunning ; whom Lucifer amuses himself 
 with teasing, in every possible way, whenever he has 
 a moment to spare from the disagreeable work he is so 
 anxious to finish.
 
 400 EL DIABLO rilEDKADOK. [Pekiod IL 
 
 In some of the early copies, this drama, so character- 
 istic of the aire to which it beloiio-s, is attributed to 
 Luis de Behiionte, and in some of them to Antonio de 
 Coello, cahed erroneously Luis de Coello in the '' Cata- 
 logo" of Huerta. Later, it is declared, though on what 
 authority we are not told, to have been written b^' 
 Francisco Damian de Cornejo, a Franciscan monk. All 
 this, however, is uncertain, although Belmonte is more 
 likely to have been its author than either of the others. 
 But we know, that, for a long time after it appeared, 
 it used to be acted as a devout work, favorable to the 
 interests of the Franciscans, mIio then possessed great 
 influence in Spain. Li the latter part of the eigh- 
 teenth . century, however, this state of things was 
 partly changed, and its pu])lic performance, for some 
 reason or other, was forbidden. About LSOO. it 
 * 341 * reappeared on the stage, and was again acted, 
 with great profit, all over the country-, — the 
 Franciscan monks lending the needful monastic dresses 
 for an exhibition they thought so honorable to their 
 order. But in 1804 it was put anew under the ban of 
 the Inquisition, and so remained until after the political 
 revolution of 1820, which gave absolute liberty to the 
 theatre."^ 
 
 -* C. Pellicer, Origen, Tom. L p. 184, drawn my attention to tlie fact, that a 
 
 note; Suplemento al Inilice, etc., 1805; poor play by Francisco de Mahispina, 
 
 and an excellent article by Louis de entitled " La Fuerza de la Verdad," is 
 
 Yii'il ("astel, in the Hcvue des Deu.x nearly identical in its subject with the 
 
 Mondes, July 15, 1840. To these .should "Diablo Predicador." It is in the 
 
 l)e added the i>lea.sant de-scrijition given Comedias Escogidas, Tom. XIV., 1661, 
 
 by Blanco White, in his admii-able f. 182, and at the opening, the Devil 
 
 " Doblado's Letteis," (1822, jjp. 163- puts his ca,se with more force and in- 
 
 169,) of a representation he himself genuity, I think, than he does in the 
 
 witnessed of the "Diablo Predicador," "Diablo Predicador." In two MSS. 
 
 in the court-yard of a ]ioor inn, where of the la,st, it is attnbuted to Francisco 
 
 a cow-house .served for the theatre, or de Villcgas, but the common ojiinion 
 
 rather the stage, and the spectators, that it was written by Belmonte is the 
 
 wlio paid less than twopence apiece for more likely one. Schack's Xachtrage, 
 
 their jilaces, sat in the open air, under 1854, j>. 62. 
 a bright starr}' .sky. Belmonte was born about 1587 ; was 
 
 My friend, Mr. J. R. Chorley, has in the "Certamenes" for San Isidro at
 
 Chap. XXI.] THE DKAM.V OPPOSED. 401 
 
 The school of Jjopo,-"^ to which all the writers we 
 have just enumerated, and many more, belonged, was 
 not received with an absolutely universal applause. 
 Men of learning, IVoni time to time, refused to be rec- 
 onciled to it ; and severe or captious critics found in 
 its gross irregularities and extravagances abiuidant 
 opportunity for the exercise of a spirit of complaint. 
 Alonso Lopez, commonly called El Pinciano, in his 
 ^^ Art of Poetry founded on the Doctrines of the 
 Ancients," — a modest treatise, which he printed as 
 €arly as 1596, — shows plainly, in his discussions on 
 the nature of tragedy and comedy, that he was far 
 from consenting to the forms of the drama then begin- 
 ning to prevail on the theatre. The Argensolas, who, 
 about ten years earlier, had attempted to introduce an- 
 other and more classical ty])e, would, of course, be even 
 less satisfied with the tendency of things in their time ; 
 and one of them, Bartolome, speaks his opinion very 
 openly in his didactic satires. Others joined them, 
 among whom were Artieda, in a poetical epistle 
 to the Marquis of Cuellar ; * Villegas, the sweet * 342 
 lyrical poet, in his seventh elegy ; and Chris- 
 toval de Mesa, in different passages of his minor poems, 
 and in the Preface to his ill-constructed tragedy of 
 " Pompey." If to these we add a scientific discussion 
 on the True Structure of Tragedy and Comedy, in the 
 third and fourth of the Poetical Tables of Cascales, and 
 
 Madrid in 1620 and 1622, and seems ^ For the scliool of Lope, see Bib- 
 to have been alive in 1649. In the lioteca de Antores Espafioles, (Tom. 
 address to the reader, precedinc? the XLIII. and XLV., 1857 and 1858,) 
 drama on the Marquis of Caiiete, wliich wheii; Don Ramon de Jlesonero Ro- 
 it took nine poets to make so dull, (see raanos has made a collection of fifty- 
 post, Chap. XXVII. note 14,) he says nine plays to illustrate it. The Cata- 
 of himself, " Estando yo en Lima el aho logue of Authors, with alpliabetieal 
 de605"; — so that he was in Peru wlien lists of their known plays following 
 he was young, and ought to have known their names, is in Vol. XLIV., and is 
 better than to assist in doing lionor to particularly valuable, 
 such a man as he would illustrate. 
 VOL. II. 26
 
 402 THE DRAMA 0PP0S?:D. [Peimod IL 
 
 a harsh account of the \vhole })opular Spanish stage, by 
 Suarez de Figueroa, in which httle is noticed but its 
 follies, we shall have, if not cverythiniz: that was said 
 on the subject by the scholars of the time, at least 
 everything that needs now to l)e remembered. The 
 whole is of less consequence than the frank admissions 
 of Lope de Vega, in his "New Art of the Drama." ^ 
 
 The opposition of the Church, more formidal)le than 
 that of the scholars of the time, was, in some respects, 
 better founded, since many of the plays of this period 
 were indecent, and more of them immoral. The eccle- 
 siastical influence, as we have seen, had, therefore, been 
 earh' directed against the theatre, partly on this ac- 
 count and partly because the secular drama had super- 
 seded those representations in the churches which had 
 so long been among the means used by the priesthood 
 to sustain their power with the mass of the people. 
 On these grounds, in fact, the plays of Torres Naharro 
 were suppressed in 1545, and a petition was sent, in 
 1548, b}' the Cortes, to Charles the Fifth, against the 
 printing and publishing of all indecent farces.^" 
 * 343 For a * long time, however, little was done 
 
 ^ El Pinciano, Filosofia Antigua Po- Gayangos, in his translation of this 
 
 etit-a, Madrid, Ij9t3, 4to, p. 381, etc. ; History, ^Tom. II. pp. 558-560,) gives 
 
 Andres Rey dc Artieda, Discui-sos, etc. an account of an attack, in 1617, on 
 
 de Artemidoro, faragoca, 1605, 4to, Lope as a dramatist, by a certain Pedro 
 
 f. 87 ; C. de Mesa, Kimas, Madrid, Torres de Raniila, and of answers to it 
 
 1611, 12mo, tf. 94, 145, 218, and his by Julio Colunibario (a pseudonyme for 
 
 Pompeyo, Madrid, 1618, 12mo, with Francisco Lopez de Aguilar) and Al- 
 
 its DcdicnUrria ; Cascalcs, Tablas Po- fonso Sanchez ; — all in Latin, and all, 
 
 eticas, Murcia, 1616, 4to, Parte II. ; apparently, in the bitterest spirit of 
 
 0. S. de Figueroa, Pasagero, Madrid, Spanish litei-arycontrovei-sy. But LojKi 
 
 1617, 12nio, Alivio tercero ; Est. M. suffered little ])eisonally in this way. 
 
 de Villi-gas, Erotica-s, Najera, 1617, His popularity was overwhelming. Af- 
 
 4to, Segunda Parte, f. 27 ; Los Argen- ter his death, he was oftener attacked, 
 
 solas, Himas, Zaragoza, 1634, 4to, p. e. g. by Antonio Lopez de Vega, (see 
 
 447. I have arranged them according post. Chap. XXIX.,) who did it, very 
 
 to their dates, because, in this ca.se, nngi'atefully, in his Heraclito \' Demo- 
 
 the order of time is imjiortant, and be- crito, (1641, i)p. 176, sfjq.,) for Lope 
 
 cause it should be noticed that all come had been kind to him earlier, 
 within the period of Lope's success as a ^7 d (Quixote, ed. Clemencin, Tom. 
 
 dramatist. III. p. 402, note.
 
 CuAi'. XXI.] THE DRAMA OPPOSED. 403 
 
 but to suspend dmiuatic re])reseutations in seasons 
 of court mourning, and on other occasions of public 
 sorrow or trouble ; — this being, perhaps, thought by 
 the clergy an exercise of their influence that would, in 
 the course of events, lead to more important conces- 
 sions. 
 
 But as the theatre rose into importance with the 
 popularity of Lope de Vega, the discussions on its 
 character and consequences grew graver. Even just 
 before that time, in 1587, Philip the Second consulted 
 some of the leading theologians of the kingdom, and 
 was urged to suppress altogether the acted drama ; but, 
 after much deliberation, he followed the milder opin- 
 ion of Alonso de Mendoza, a professor at Salamanca, 
 and determined still to tolerate it, but to subject it 
 constantly to a careful and even strict supervision. In 
 1597, the same Philip, more monk than king, ordered, 
 according to the custom of the time, the public repre- 
 sentations at Madrid to be suspended, in consequence 
 of the death of his daughter, the Duchess of Savoy. 
 But Philip was now old and infirm. The opposers of 
 the theatre, among whom was Lupercio de Argensola, 
 gathered around him.^^ The discussion was renewed 
 with increased earnestness, and in 1598, not long be- 
 fore he breathed his last in the Escorial, with his dying 
 eyes fastened on its high altar, he forbade theatrical 
 representations altogether. No attack, however, on 
 the theatre and its actors was so grave and pnngent 
 as that of Mariana in his De Rege, 1599, repeated and 
 reinforced in his De Spectaculis, ten years later. The 
 wonder is that it produced so little effect, coming as 
 it did, in its first form, during the dark period imme- 
 diately following the death of the king. 
 
 ^* Pellicer, Bib. de Tiaductores, Tom. I. p. 11.
 
 404 THE DIJAMA TKIUMPHAXT. [Priiioi. II. 
 
 Little, in truth, was reall}^ effected by this struggle on 
 the part of the Church, except that the dramatic poets 
 were compelled to discover ingenious modes for evad- 
 inu' the authority exercised ao'ainst them, and that the 
 character of the actors was degraded ))y it. To drive 
 the drama from ground where itAvas so well intrenched 
 
 behind the general favor of the people was 
 *344 impossible. The * city of Madrid, already the 
 
 acknowledged capital of the country, begged 
 that the theatres might again be opened ; giving, 
 a.s one reason for their request, that many religious 
 plays were performed, by some of which both actors 
 and spectators had been so moved to penitence as to 
 hasten directly from the theatre to enter religious 
 houses;"^ and as another reason, that the rent paid 
 by the companies of actors to the hospitals of Madrid 
 was important to the \ery existence of those great and 
 beneficent charities.®^ 
 
 Moved by such arguments, Philip the Third, in IGOO, 
 when the theatres had been shut hardly two years, 
 summoned a council of ecclesiastics and four of the 
 principal secular authorities of the kingdom, and laid 
 the whole subject before them. Under their advice, 
 — which still condemned in the strongest manner the 
 theatres as they had heretofore existed in Spain, — he 
 
 29 As a sf't-off to this alleged religious (f. 98) says that the hospitals made 
 
 eflect of the comedias ik mntofi, we have, such efforts to sustain the theatres, in 
 
 in the Address that opens tlie " Tiatado order to get an income from tlieni after- 
 
 de las Comedias," (1618,) by Ihsbe y wards, that they themselves were some- 
 
 Vidal, an account of a young girl who times impoverished by the speculations 
 
 was permitted to see the representation they ventured to make ; and adds, that 
 
 of the "Conversion of Man.- Magdalen " in his time (c. 1618) theie was a pei-son 
 
 several times, as an act of devotion, alive, who, as a magistrate of Valencia, 
 
 and ended her visits to the theatre by had been the means of such losses to 
 
 falling in love with the actor that i>er- the hospital of that city, through its 
 
 sonated the Saviour, and running off investments and advances for the the- 
 
 with him, or rather following him to atre that he had entered a religious 
 
 Madrid. hou.se, and given his whole foiiiine to 
 
 ** The account, however, was some- the hospital, to make up for the injury 
 
 times the other way. Bisbe y Vidal he had done it.
 
 €UAP. XXL] TlIK DRAMA TEIUMPHANT. 40-5 
 
 permitted tliein to be opened anew; diminishing-, how- 
 ever, the number of actors, forbidding all immorality 
 in the plays, and allowing representations only on Sun- 
 days and three other days in the week, which were 
 required to be Church festivals, if such festivals should 
 occur. This decision has, on the whole, been hardlj^ 
 yet disturbed, and the theatre in Spain, with occasional 
 alterations and additions of privilege, has continued to 
 rest safely on its foundations ever since ; — closed, in- 
 deed, sometimes, in seasons of public mourning, as it 
 was three months on the death of Philip the Third, 
 and again in 1665, by the bigotry of the queen 
 regent, but never * interrupted for any long * 345 
 period, and never again called to contend for 
 its existence. 
 
 The truth is, that, from the beginning of the seven- 
 teenth century, the popular Spanish drama was too 
 strong to be subjected either to classical criticism or to 
 ecclesiastical control. In the " Amusing Journey " of 
 Roxas, an actor who travelled over much of the coun- 
 tr}' in 1602, visiting Seville, Granada, Toledo, Yalla- 
 dolid, and many other places, we find plays acted 
 everywhere, even in the smallest villages, and the 
 drama, in all its forms and arrangements, accommo- 
 dated to the public taste far beyond any other popular 
 amusement.^^ In 1632, Montalvan — the best author- 
 ity on such a subject — gives us the names of a crowd 
 of writers for Castile alone ; and three j^ears later, 
 Fabio Franchi, an Italian, who had lived in Spain, pu]j- 
 lished a eulogy on Lope, which enumerates nearl}' 
 
 ^1 Roxas (1602) gives an amusing ac- which was required to have seventeen, 
 
 count of the nicknames and resources (Viage, Madrid, 1614, 12mo, ff. 51- 
 
 of eight different kinds of strolling com- 53.) These nicknames and distinctions 
 
 panics of actors, beginning with the were long known in Spain. Four of 
 
 hululu, which boasted of but one per- them occur in " Estebanillo Gonzalez," 
 
 son, and going up to the full coinpafiia, 1646, c. 6.
 
 406 
 
 THE DRAMA TRIUMPHANT. 
 
 [Peuiod IL 
 
 thirty of the same dramatists, and shows anew how 
 completely the countr}^ was imbued with their influ- 
 ence. There can, therefore, be no doubt, that, at the 
 time of his death. Lope's name was the great poetical 
 name that filled the whole breadth of the land with its 
 glory, and that the forms of the drama originated by 
 him were established, bejond the reach of successful 
 opposition, as the national and popular forms of the 
 drama for all Spain.^^ 
 
 ^- On tlie whole subject of the contest 
 between the Church and the theati'e, 
 and the success of Lope and his school, 
 see C. Pellicer, Origen, Tom. I. pp. 
 118-122, and 142-157 ; Don Quixote, 
 ed. J. A. Pellicer, Parte II. c. 11, note; 
 Roxas, Viage, 1614, passim (f. 66, im- 
 ph'ing that he wrote in 1602) ; Montal- 
 van, Para'Todos, 1661, p. 543; Lope 
 de Vega, Obras Sueltas, Tom. XXI. p. 
 66 ; and many other parts of Vols. XX. 
 and XXI. ; — all showing the triumph 
 of Lope and his school. A letter of 
 Francisco Cascales to Lope de Vega, 
 published in 1634, in defence of plays 
 and their representation, is the third 
 in the second decade of his Epistles ; 
 
 but it goes on the untenable ground, 
 that the plays then represented were 
 liable to no objection on the score of 
 morals. Ricardo del Tuiia — probabh- 
 a pseudonyme for Luis Fen-er y Car- 
 dona, governor of Valencia, to whom, 
 in mj' co[)y of the "Comedias de Poe- 
 tas de Valencia," 1609, that volume is 
 dedicated — takes, on the contrary, in 
 his Pieface to the second volume, 1616, 
 the theatre as it really existed, and 
 defends it not without learning and 
 acuteness. He died in 1641. Bar- 
 rera, however, maintains that Pedro 
 Juan de Toledo was the person dis- 
 guised under the name of Ricardo de 
 Tuna.
 
 * CHAPTER XXTT. * 346 
 
 CALDKRON. HIS LIKE AND VAHIOIIS WORKS. PRAMAS FAI.SKI.Y ATTRIH- 
 
 IITED TO HIM. HIS SACRA.MENTAL AUTOS. HOW RKPKKSENTEU. THEIR 
 
 CHARACTER. THE DIVINE ORPHEUS. GREAT POI'lJLAIUTY OF SUCH EX- 
 HIBITIONS. HIS FUEL-LENGTH RELIGIOUS VLAYS. PURGATORY OF SAINT' 
 
 PATRICK. DEVOTION TO THE CROSS. WONDKK-WORKINU MAGICIAN. 
 
 OTHER SIMILAR I'LAYS. 
 
 Turning from Lope de Vega and his scliool, wo coine 
 now to his great successor and rival, Pedro Calderon 
 de la Barca, who, if he invented no new form of the 
 drama, was yet so eminently a poet in the national 
 temper, and had a success so brilliant, that he must 
 necessarily fill a large space in all inquiries concerning 
 the histor}' of the Spanish theatre. 
 
 He was born at Madrid, on the ITtli of January, 
 1600 ; ^ and one of his friends claims kindred for him with 
 nearly all the old kings of the different Spanish mon- 
 archies, and even with most of the crowned heads 
 of his time, throughout Europe.^ This is*ab- * 347 
 
 1 Theie lias been some (liscus.sion, tlie poet's birth on January 1st, we can- 
 
 and a general error, about the date of not now even conjecture. 
 C'alderon's birth ; but in a rare book, '^ See the hiarned genealogical intro- 
 
 en ti tied "ObeliscoFunebre," published duction to the " Obelisco Fiinebre," 
 
 in his honor, by his friend Caspar Au- jn.st cited. The name of Caldrron, a.s 
 
 gustin de Lara, (Madrid, 1684, 4to,) its author tells us, came into the fani- 
 
 and written immediately after Cable- ily in the thirteenth century, M'hen one 
 
 ron's death, it is distinctly stated, on of its i mm be r, being jn-ematurely born, 
 
 the authority of Calderon himself, that was supposed to be dead, but was as- 
 
 he was liorn January 17, 1600. This certained to be alive by being uncere- 
 
 settles all doubts. The certificate of nioniously thrown into a caldron — cal- 
 
 baptism given in Baena, "Hijos de chron — of warm water. As he proved 
 
 Madrid," Tom. IV. p. 228, only says to be a great man, and was much fa- 
 
 that he was baptized February 14, vored by St. Ferdinand and Alfonso 
 
 1600; but why that ceremony, con- the Wise, his nickname became a name 
 
 trary to (-ustom, was so long delayed, of honor, and live caldrons wqw, from 
 
 or why a person in the position of Vera that time, borne in the famih' arms. 
 
 Tassis y Villaroel, who, like Lara, was The additionni surname oi Barca came 
 
 a friend I )f Calderon, should have placed in latei', with an estate — tsnlar — of
 
 408 PEDRO CALDEROX DE LA BARCA. [Peiuud II. 
 
 surd. But it is of consequence to know that his 
 faiuih' was res|)ectal)le, and its position in society 
 t<nch as to give him an op]K)rtunit3' lor early intellec- 
 tual culture ; — his father heing Secretar}' to the Treas- 
 nry Bo;ird under Philip the Second and Philip the 
 Third, and his mother of a nohle famih", that came 
 from the Low Countries long before. Perhaps, how- 
 ever, the most curious circumstance connected with his 
 origin is to be found in the fact, that, while the two 
 masters of the Spanish drama. Lope de Vega and Cal- 
 deron, were both born in Madrid, the families of both 
 are to be sought for, at an earUer period, in the same 
 little rich and beautiful valle v of Carriedo, where each 
 ^lossessed an ancestral fief.'^ 
 
 When only nine years old, he was placed under the 
 Jesuits, and from them received instructions which, 
 like those Corneille was receiving at the same moment, 
 in the same way, on the other side of the Pyrenees, 
 imparted their coloring to the whole of his life, and 
 especially to its latter years. After leaving the Jesuits, 
 he went to Salamanca, where he studied with distinc- 
 tion the scholastic theology and philosophy then in 
 fashion, and the civil and canon law. But when he 
 was graduated from that University in IGID, he was 
 already known as a writer for the theatre ; and when 
 he arrived at Madrid, he seems, probably on this ac- 
 count, to have been at once noticed by some of those 
 
 •one of the house, wlio afterwards per- but, especially, see the different facts 
 
 ished, fightini{ a<,'ainst the Moors ; in about t'aldeion scattered through tlie 
 
 conseipience of which, a ('astle, a gaunt- dull jirose introduction to the " Obe- 
 
 ■3et, and tlu'. motto, /\>r fa fe iDorin':, lisco Funebre," and its still nioie dull 
 
 were added to their escut(tlieon, which, ])oetry. The l)iographical sketdi of him 
 
 thus arranged, constituted the not in- l)y his friend Vera Tassis y Villarod, 
 
 api)ropriate anus of the poet in the originally jirefixeil to the fifth volunK- 
 
 stn'enteenth century. of liis Coniedias, and to be found in the 
 
 8 See the notice of Calderon's father first volume of the editions since, is 
 
 in Haena, Tom. I. p. oOfi ; that of f'al- formal, ])edantic, and unsatisfactory, 
 
 (lerou himself, Tom. IV. p. 228 ; and like most notices of the old Spanisii 
 
 that of I,ope de Vega, Turn. HI. p. '.i'jU ; authors.
 
 Chap. XXII.] PEDI{0 CALDERON DE LA BARCA. 400 
 
 perfsoiLs about tlie court who could Jx'st ]))'ouiote his 
 ndvancement and success. 
 
 lu 1020,110 entered, with the leading spirits of his 
 time, into the first poetical contest opened by the city 
 of Madrid in honor of San Isidro, and received 
 for his * efforts the public compliment of Lope * 348 
 de Vega's praise.^ In 1622, he appeared at the 
 second and greater contest proposed by the capital, on 
 the canonization of the same saint ; and gained — all 
 that could be gained by one individual — a single 
 prize, with still further and more emphatic praises 
 from the presiding spirit of the show.'' In the same 
 year, too, when Lope published a considerable voluitie 
 containing an account of all these ceremonies and 
 rejoicings, we find that the youthful Calderon ap- 
 proached him as a friend, with a few not ungraceful 
 lines, which Lope, to show that he admitted the claim, 
 prefixed to his book. But from that time we entirely 
 lose sight of Calderon as an author, or obtain only 
 uncertain hints of him, for ten years, except that in 
 1630 he figures in Lope de Vega's " Laurel of Apollo," 
 among the crowd of poets born in Madrid.^ 
 
 Much of this interval seems to have been filled with 
 service in the armies of his country. At least, he was 
 
 * His sonnet for tliis occasion is in or eight poems ofiered by Calderon at 
 
 T.ope de Vega, Obrus Sueltas, Tom. XI. these two poetical joustings arc valua- 
 
 p. 432 ; and his octavas are at p. 491. ble, not only as being the oldest of his 
 
 Both are respectable for a youth of works that remain to ns, but as being 
 
 twenty. The praises of Lope, which among the few specimens of his verse 
 
 lire unmeaning, are at p. 59.3 of the that we have, excejit his dramas. C'er- 
 
 same volume. Who obtained the prizes vantes, in his Don Quixote, intimates 
 
 at this festival of 1620 is not known. that, at such poetical contests, the first 
 
 ** The different pieces offered by Cal- prize was given from jtcrsonal iavoi', or 
 
 deron for the festival of May 17, 1622, from regard to the rank of the aspirant, 
 
 are in Lope de Vega, Obras Sueltas, and the second with reference only to- 
 
 Tom. XII. pp. 181, 239, 303, 363, 384. the merit of the poem pre.sented. (Parte 
 
 speaking of them. Lope (p. 413) says, II. c. 18.) Calderon took, on this oc- 
 
 a prize was given to "Don Pedro Cal- casion, only the third prize for a can- 
 
 deron, Avho, in his tender years, earns don ; the liist being given to Lope, and! 
 
 the laurels which time is wont to pro- the second to Zaratc. 
 
 duce only with hoary hairs." The sLv •> Silva VII.
 
 410 PEDRO CALDEKOX DE LA BARCA. [Period II. 
 
 ill the Milanese in 1G2-3, and afterwards, as we are 
 told, went to Flanders, where a disastrous war was still 
 carried on with unrelenting hatred, both national and 
 religious. That he was not a careless observer of men 
 and manners, during his campaigns, we see by the plots 
 of some of his plays, and by the li\ ely local descrip- 
 tions with which they abound, as well as In* the char- 
 acters of his heroes, who often come fresh from these 
 same wars, and talk of their adventures with an air of 
 
 reality that leaves no doubt that they speak of 
 * 349 what had * absolutely happened. But we soon 
 
 find him in the more apj^ropriate career of let- 
 tet\s. In 1632, Montalvan tells us that Calderon was 
 already the author of many dramas, which had been 
 acted with applause ; that he had gained many public 
 prizes ; that he had written a great deal of lyrical 
 verse ; and that he had begun a poem on the General 
 Deluge. His reputation as a poet, therefore, at the 
 age of thirty-two, was an enviable one, and was fast 
 rising.' 
 
 A dramatic author of such promise could not be 
 overlooked in the reign of Phihp the Fourth, especially 
 when the death of Lope, in 1G35, left the theatre with- 
 out a master. In 1636, therefore, Calderon was for- 
 mally attached to the court, for the purpose of furnish- 
 ing dramas to be represented in the royal theatres ; 
 and in 1637, as a further honor, he was made a knight 
 of the Order of Santiago. His very distinctions, how- 
 ever, threw him back once more into a military life. 
 When he was just well entered on his brilliant career 
 as a poet, the rel)ellion excited by France in Catalonia 
 burst forth with great violence, and all the members of 
 
 ' I'ara ToJos, ed. 1G61, pp. 539, 540. But these sketches were pieiiaieil iu 
 1632.
 
 Chap. XXII.] PEDKO CALDEKOX DE LA BARCA. 411 
 
 the four great military orders of the kingdom were re- 
 quired, in 1640, to appear in the field and sustain the 
 royal authority. Calderon, like a true knight, pre- 
 sented himself at once to fulfil his duty. But the king 
 was so anxious to enjoy his services in the palace, that 
 he was willing to excuse him from the field, and asked 
 from him yet another drama. In great haste, the poet 
 finished his '- Contest of Love and Jealousy," ^ and 
 then joined the army; serving loyally through the 
 campaign in the body of troops commanded by the 
 Count Duke Olivares in person, and remaining in the 
 field till the rebellion was quelled. 
 
 After his return, the king testified his increased re- 
 gard for Calderon hy giving him a pension of thirty 
 gold crdwns a month, and by employing him in 
 the arrangements for * the festivities of the * 350 
 court, when, in 1649, the new queen, Anna 
 Maria of Austria, made her entrance into Madrid. 
 From this period, he enjoyed a high degree of favor 
 during the life of Philip the Fourth, and until the 
 death of that Prince had a controlling influence over 
 whatever related to the drama, writing secular and re- 
 ligious plays for the theatres and autos for the Church 
 with uninterrupted applause. 
 
 In 1651, he followed the example of Lope de Vega 
 and other men of letters of his time, by entering a re- 
 ligious brotherhood ; and the king two years afterwards 
 gave him the place of chaplain in a chapel consecrated 
 to the " New Kings " at Toledo ; — a burial-place set 
 apart for royalty, and richly endowed from the time 
 of Henry of Trastamara. But it was found that his 
 
 ^ It has been said that Calderon has precise title is to be found among his 
 
 given to none of his dramas the title printed works ; but it is the last but 
 
 Vera Tassis assigns to this one, viz. one in the list of his plaj^s furnished by 
 
 "Certamen de Amor y Zelos." But Calderon himself to the Duke of Vera- 
 
 this is a mistake. No play with this guas, in 1680.
 
 412 PEDRO CALDEROX DE LA BARCA. lPi:i:ioi. IT. 
 
 duties there kept liiiii too iiiiicli from the court, to 
 whose entertainment he had hecouie important. In 
 1663, therefore, he was created chapLain of honor to 
 the king, who thus secured his regular presence at 
 Madrid ; though, at the same time, he was permitted 
 to retain his former place, and even had a second 
 added to it. In the same year, he became a Priest of 
 the Congregation of Saint Peter, and soon rose to be 
 its head ; an office of some importance, which he held 
 during the last fifteen years of his life, fulfilling its 
 duties with great gentleness and dignity.^ 
 
 This accumulation of religious benefices, however, 
 did not lead him to intermit in any degree his dramatic 
 labors. On the contrary, it Avas rather intended to 
 stimulate him to further exertion ; and his fame was 
 now so great, that the cathedrals of Toledo, Granada, 
 and Seville constantly solicited from him religious 
 plays to be performed on the day of the Corpus Christi, 
 — that great festival, for which, during nearly thirty- 
 seven years, he furnished similar entertainments regu- 
 larly, at the charge of the city of Madrid. For these 
 services, as well as for his services at court, he was 
 richly rewarded, so that he accumulated an ample 
 fortune. 
 
 After the death of Philip the Fourth, which 
 * 351 happened *in 1665, he seems to have enjoyed 
 less of the royal ]-)atronage. Charles the Sec- 
 ond had a temper very different froui that of his prede- 
 cessor ; and Sol is, the historian, speaking of Calderon, 
 with reference to these circumstances, says pointedly, 
 " He died without a Maecenas." ^^ But still he contin- 
 
 ^ " He kuew how," says Augustin de ^'' "Murio sin Mecenas." Apioba- 
 
 Lara, "to unite, by humility and pru- cion to the "Obelisco," dated October 
 
 deuce, the duties of an obedient child 30, 1683. All that relates to Calderon 
 
 and a loving father." in this very rare volume is important.
 
 Chap. XXII.] PEDEO CALDERON DE LA BARCA. 
 
 413 
 
 lied to write us before, for the court, and for the 
 churches ; and retained, through his whole life, the 
 extraordinary general popularity of nis best years." 
 He died in 1681, on the 25th of May, — the Feast 
 of the Pentecost, — wdiile all Spain was ringing with 
 the performance of his autoSj in the composition of one 
 more of which he was himself occupied ahuost to tlic 
 last moment of his life.^^ 
 
 The next day, he was borne, as his will required, 
 without any show, to his grave in the church of San 
 Salvador, by the Priests of the Congregation over which 
 he had so long presided, and to which he now left the 
 whole of his fortune. But a gorgeous funeral cere- 
 mony followed a few days later, to satisfy the claims 
 of the popular admiration ; and even at Valencia, 
 Naples, Lisbon, Milan, and Rome, public notice was 
 taken of his death by his countrymen, as of a na- 
 tional calamity.^'^ A monument to his memory was 
 
 because it conies from a friend, and was 
 written, — at least the poetical part of 
 it, — as the author tells us, within fifty- 
 three days after Calderon's death. 
 
 11 It seems probable that Calderon 
 wrote no ]days expressly for the pub'ic 
 stage after he became a priest, in 16.51, 
 confining himself to autos and to "Co- 
 medias " for the court, which last, how- 
 ever, were at once transferred to the 
 theatres of the capital. Thus "La 
 Fiera, el Rayo, y la Piedra," a drama 
 which lasted seven hours on its first 
 representation at the palace, was imme- 
 diately given to the public of Madrid 
 and acted thirty-seven afternoons con- 
 secutively. It may be hoped, that, the 
 court ceremonies being omitted, the city 
 audiences were not so long detained. 
 
 12 " Estava un auto entonces en los 
 fines, como su autor." (Obelisco, Canto 
 I., St. 22. See also a sonnet at the end 
 of the volume.) Soli.s, the historian, 
 in one of his letters, says, "Our friend 
 Don Pedro Calderon is just dead, and 
 went oft', as they say the swan does, 
 singing ; for he did all he could, even 
 when he was in immediate danger, to 
 finish the second auto for the Corpus. 
 
 But, after all, he completed only a little 
 more than half of it, and it has been 
 finished in some way or other by Don 
 ]\Ielchor de Leon." (Cartas de N. An- 
 tonio y A. Soils, publicadas por Mayans 
 y Siscar, Leon de Fraucia, 1733, 12mo, 
 p. 75.) 
 
 Melchor Fernandez de Leon was a 
 well-known dramatist of this period, 
 but, by no means, one to tread in the 
 footsteps of Calderon. 
 
 MacCarthy says that the Pleyto Mat- 
 rimonial was left unfinished by Calde- 
 ron and was completed by Zamora, as 
 may be seen, he says, in Vol. IV. of 
 the Autos. See MacCarthy's Myste- 
 ries of Corpus Christi, 1857, p. 104, 
 note. 
 
 1^ Lara, in his "Advertencias," speaks 
 of "the funeral eulogies printed in Va- 
 lencia." Vera Tassis mentions them 
 also, without adding that they were 
 printed. A copy of them would be 
 very interesting, as they were the work 
 of "the illustrious gentlemen" of the 
 household of tlie Duke of Veraguas, 
 Calderon's friend. The substance of 
 the poet's will is given in the "Obelis- 
 co," Canto I., st. 32, 33.
 
 414 PEDIIO CALDEKOX DE LA BAKCA. [Pekiui. 11. 
 
 * 3-32 soon * erected in the chureli where he was 
 buried ; but in 1840 his remains M^ere removed 
 to the more splendid church of the Atocha. where 
 they now rest.^* 
 
 Calderon, we are told, was remarkable for his per- 
 sonal Ijeauty, which he long preserved b}' the serenity 
 and cheerfulness of his spirit. The engravings pub- 
 lished soon after his death show, at least, a strongly 
 marked and venerable countenance, to which in fancy 
 Ave may easilj^ add the brilliant eye and gentle voice 
 o-iven to him bv his friendlv eulo*':ist, while in the 
 ample and finely turned brow we are reminded of 
 that with wh^cli we are familiar in the portraits of our 
 own cjreat dramatic poet.^^ His character, throiio-liout, 
 seems to have been benevolent and kindly. In his old 
 age, Ave learn that he used to collect his friends round 
 him on his birthday's, and tell them amusing stories of 
 his childhood ; ^"^ and during the Avhole of the active 
 part of his life, he enjoyed the regard of many of the 
 distinguished persons of his time, Avho, like the Count 
 
 1* An account of the first monument <le Alfaio, or from some other, 1 do not 
 
 and its inscrijition is to be found in know. Those by the two first, how- 
 
 Baena, Tom. IV. p. 231 ; and an ac- ever, are likelj- to have been the best, 
 
 count of the removal of the poet's ashes Stirling's Artists of Spain, Vol. II. p. 
 
 totheconventof" Our Lady of Atocha" 803; A^ol. III. p. 1116. 
 is in the Ft)reign Quarterly Keview, Since the above was published, in 
 
 April, 1S41, p. 227. An attempt to do 1849, a gay description of himself by 
 
 still further honor to the memory of Calderon has been found and jirint- 
 
 Calderon was made by the publication ed. (Bib. de Autores Espanoles, Tom. 
 
 of a life of him, and of poems in his XXIV., 1853, p. 585.) It is thrown 
 
 honor by Zamacola, Zorrilla, Hartzen- into the form of a ballad, and, although 
 
 busch, etc., in a folio pamphlet, 2^Ia- the only copy of it known to exist is 
 
 drid, 1840, as well as by a subscription. imperfect, it is very curious. He ad- 
 
 1^ His fine capacious forehead is no- dresses it to a lady, and countenances 
 
 ticed by his eulogist, and is obvious in his claim to a very proud ancestry, but 
 
 the prints of 1682 and 1684, which little not one so proud as Lara afterwards set 
 
 resemble the copies made from them by up for him ; — alludes to the remarka- 
 
 later engravers : — ble ])rominence of his forehead, so ob\-i- 
 
 Conriderava de su rostro prave ous in the old prints ; — says he is of a 
 
 Lora/xizih la/rnuf,\a.vivaui. middle stature and of a i)ale complex- 
 
 D^l^%t"J'te^"'""'"*'^ j«»' tliat '>e takes no snuff, and that 
 
 ' Canto I., St. 41. the lio])e of a prize at the Festival of 
 
 A\Tiether either of the prints referred ^f" I^^'? ^^^^^^ ^ po^t of him. It is a 
 
 to is made from a portrait of Cald.-ron P";?*^" V'*^ ^^f''-« .-., ,• ,. 
 
 by Alonso Cano, or from one bv Juan " Prologo to the Obehsco.
 
 <_'HA1' XX 11. J 
 
 CALDEIIOX S WORKS. 
 
 410 
 
 Duke Olivares and the Duke of Veraguas, seem to 
 have been attracted to liini rjuite as much by the gen- 
 tleness ol' his nature as ])y his genius and fame. 
 
 In a Hfe thus extending to above fourscore 
 years, * nearly the whole of which was devoted * 353 
 to letters, Calderon produced a large number of 
 works. Except, however, a panegj^ric on the Duke of 
 Medina de Rioseco, who died in 1647, and a single 
 \olume of mitos, which is said to have been printed iu 
 1676, and of which there is • certainly an edition in 
 1690, he published hardly anything of what he 
 wrote ; ^' and yet, beside several longer works,^* he 
 
 1'' The account of the entrance of the 
 new queen into Madrid, in 1649, writ- 
 ten by Calderon, was indeed priutetl ; 
 but it was under the name of Loreneo 
 Ramirez de Prado, who, assisted by 
 ('alderon, arranged the festivities of the 
 occasion. 
 
 ^* The unpublished works of Calde- 
 ron, as enumerated by Vera Tassis, Ba- 
 ena, and Lara, are : — 
 
 (1.) "Discurso de los Quatro No^'isi- 
 mos " ; or what, in the technics of his 
 theology, are called the four last things 
 to be thought upon by man ; viz. Death, 
 .ludgment. Heaven, and Hell. Lara 
 says Calderon read him three hundred 
 octave stanzas of it, and proposed to 
 complete it in one liundred more. It 
 is, no doftbt, lost. 
 
 (2.) " Tratado defendiendo la Ko- 
 bleza de la Pintura." It is probable 
 that thfs Defence of Painting was a 
 " Deposicion " of eighteen pages made 
 l)y Calderon to the I'mciinuhir de. (Ui- 
 iiuvra, in order to defend the professors 
 of the art from a sort of military con- 
 scrii)tion with whiidi they were threat- 
 ened. At any rate, this curious docu- 
 ment, of which I find no other notice, 
 is printed in the " Cajou de Sastre lite- 
 rato, ec, por Don Francisco Mariano 
 Xifo, or Nipho," (Tom. IV., 1781, pp. 
 "Ih, s(|(|.,) — a confused collection of ex- 
 tracts, sometimes rare and interesting, 
 and sometimes quite worthless, from 
 -Sjjanish authors of the earlier times, 
 nii.ved up with odds and ends of the 
 ]iersonal ()|iiiiii)ns and faiicii's of Schoi' 
 ♦ Nipho liinisi'lf, wlio was a translator 
 
 and hack writer of the reigns of Ferdi- 
 nand VI. and Charles III. 
 
 (3.) " Otro tratado, Defensa de la 
 Comedia." 
 
 (4.) " otro tratado, sobre el Diluvio 
 General." The last two tnitados were 
 j)robably poems, like the "Discurso." 
 At least, that on the Deluge is men- 
 tioned as such l)y Montalvan and by 
 Lara. 
 
 (5.) " Lagi-imas, que vieit(! un Alma 
 arrepentida a la Hora de la Muerte." 
 This, however, is not unpublished, 
 though so announced by Vera Tassis. 
 It is a little poem in the ballad meas- 
 ure, which I detected first in a singular 
 volume, where probablyit first appeared, 
 entitled "Avisos para la Muerte, e.scn'i- 
 tos por algunos Ingenios de Espaua a 
 la Devocion de Bernardo de Oviedo, 
 Secretario de su Majestad, oc, publi- 
 cados por D. Luis Arellano," Valencia, 
 1634, 18mo, 90 leaves ; reprinted, Zara- 
 goza, 1648, and often besides. It con- 
 sists of the contributions of thirty poets, 
 among whom are no less personages 
 than Luis Velez de Guevara, Juan Pe- 
 rez de Montalvan, and Lojie de Vega. 
 The burden of Calderon's ])oem, which 
 is given with his name attacdied to it, 
 is " () dulce Jesus mio, no entres, Senoi', 
 con vuestro siervo en juicio ! " and a 
 translation of it ma^ be found in Car- 
 dinal Diepenbrock's " Geistliche Blu- 
 menstrau.s," 1852, p. 186. The two 
 following stanzas are a favorable speci- 
 men of th(> whole : — 
 
 quanto el imcfv, O quanto, 
 Al uiorir e.s pareciJo 1
 
 416 
 
 cald£ijon s i)KA:-i:i.3. 
 
 [Peiuod 11 
 
 * 0'j4 prepared for the academies * of whieli he 
 was a member, and for the poetical festivals 
 and joustings then so common in Spain, a great inim- 
 ber of odes, songs, ballads, and other poems, which gave 
 him not a little of his fime with his contemporaries.^^ 
 Plis brother, indeed, printed some of his full-length 
 dramas in lGo-3 and 1()3T ;'"'' but we are expressly told, 
 although the fact is doubtful, that Calderon himself 
 never sent any of them to the press ; -^ and even in 
 the case of the (udos^ where he deviated from his estab- 
 lished custom, he says he did it unwillingly, and only 
 lest their sacred character should l)e impaired hj im- 
 perfect and surreptitious publications. 
 
 For fort3'-eight years of his life, however, the j^ress 
 teemed with dramatic works bearing his name on their 
 titles. As early as 1633, they began to appear in the 
 popular collections ; but many of them were not his. 
 
 Pues, 8i naoinios llorando, 
 Llorando tambien morimos 
 O dulcc Jesus mio, etc. 
 
 Un geniido la priniera 
 Salva fue que al niiindo hizimos, 
 V el ultimo vale que 
 Le hawnios cs un jremido. 
 O dulce Jesus mio, etc. 
 
 How much resembles here our birth 
 
 The final hour of all ! 
 Wccpiufr at first we see the earth, 
 And wcfpinjr hear Death's call. 
 O. spare nie. Jesus, sjiare me, Saviour dear, 
 Xor meet thy servant as a Judge severe I 
 
 When first we entered this dark world, 
 
 A\'e hailed it with a moan : 
 And when we leave its confines dark. 
 Our farewell is a proan. 
 O, spare me, Jesus, spare me, Saviour dear, 
 Nor meet thy servant as a Judge severe I 
 
 Tlie whole of the little volume in wliiL-h 
 it occurs may serve to illustrate Span- 
 ish manners, in an age wlien a gentle- 
 man of condition and a courtier sought 
 spiritual comfort by such means and in 
 such sources. 
 
 Fifteen miscellaneous poems of Cal- 
 deron — eight of wliich I had already 
 known sepai-atcly — have Iwen hrought 
 together . since the jn-eccding account 
 was first published in 1849, and may 
 now be found in the Biblioteca de Au- 
 
 tores Espaiiole.s, Tom. XI Y., 1850, pp. 
 724, ec, and Tom. XXIV., 1853, p. 585. 
 I^ut they can be only a .small portion 
 of what ('ahleron wiote ; — proliably 
 only a small portion of what he printed 
 anonymously or circulated in manu- 
 script after the fashion of his time. Of 
 one of them, entitled Psalle et Sile, 
 from an inscri])tion in the choir of the 
 cathedral at Toledo, I found a copy of 
 the original edition, with the jiproba- 
 don, dated December 31, 1661, in the 
 Hof Bibliothek at Vienna. 
 
 '^ Lara and Vera Tassis, both per- 
 sonal fiiends of Calderon, .speak of the 
 number of these miscellanies as very 
 great. 
 
 ^ There were four volumes in all, 
 and Calderon, in his Preface to the 
 Autos, 1690, .seems to admit their gen- 
 uineness, though he abstains, with aj)- 
 parent caution, from directly declaring 
 it, lest he should seem to imply that 
 their publication had ever been author- 
 ized by him. 
 
 ^^ "All men well know," says Lara, 
 "that Don Pedro never .sent any of his 
 comcdlos to tlie press, and that tliose 
 which were ]>nnted were iirintcd against 
 his will." Obeli-sco, Prologo. J|
 
 •CiiAi-. XXII.] 
 
 CALDERON S DRAMAS. 
 
 417 
 
 •and the rest were so disCi^-ured by the imperfect man- 
 ner in which they liad been written down during their 
 representations, that he says he could often hardly 
 recognize them hiuiself. " His editor and friend, 
 
 2- The publication of ( 'aldcion's jilays 
 in tlu; earliest editions ol' them is a 
 matter of im])ortance whieh has never 
 been cleared uj), ])robably in conse- 
 quence of its obscurity and difficulty. 
 1 will, tlu'refore, enileavor to do it as 
 far as I can iV(jm the mateiials in ni}' 
 possession. 
 
 The first play of f'alderon that I 
 know to have been printed is " Kl As- 
 troloj^o Fingido," which I possess in 
 the very rare "Comeilias tie diferentes 
 Aiitores," (Tom. XXV., Zaragoi;a, 
 1633,) with a Liceneia of 1632, when 
 its author was thirty-two years old. 
 In the table of contents it is called " El 
 Amante Astrologo," and in the dedica- 
 tion of it to Fran. Ximenez de Urrea, 
 Pedro Escuer, the editor, says that he 
 had taken great pains to print it from 
 a good copy ; — an assertion which the 
 text he has given hardly justifies. 
 
 Three more ]>lays of Calderon appear 
 in Tom. XXVI II. of the .same collection, 
 edited b_y Escuer, Huesca, 1634. These 
 three plays are, — (1.) "La Industria 
 <jontra el Poder," which is here ascribed 
 to Lope de Vega, but which is really 
 <'aldeion's "Amor, Honor y Poder" ; 
 (2.) "De un Castigo tres Venganzas," 
 now called " Un Castigo en tres Vengan- 
 zas"; and (3.) " La Cruz en la Sepul- 
 tura," which is a first and very inferior 
 recension of the well-known " Devocion 
 lie la Cruz." I have this volume also. 
 
 Again, three plays of Calderon occur 
 in Vol. XXX. of the "Comedias de 
 difenmtes Autores," which, as my copy, 
 though otherwise perfect, lacks its title- 
 page, I learn oulj' from Bellingliaus(ui 
 (p. 21) was ))rinted at Zaragoza in 1636. 
 The three plays referred to are, - (1.) 
 " La Dama Duende," (2.) " La Vida es 
 Sueno," and (3.) "El Privilegio de las 
 Mujeres," which, as here given, he 
 wrote, according to Hartzenbusch, with 
 Montalvan and Coello, and which, in 
 this form, is the original sketch of the 
 "Armas de la Hermo.sura." 
 
 One play only can be found in Vol. 
 
 XXXL, Barcelona, 1638, f. 22, "Con 
 
 i(uien vengo vengo," where it appears, 
 
 like the other plays in this volume, witli- 
 
 voi,. II. 27 
 
 out his name. l>ut it is his. Hart- 
 zenbusch gives it the date of 1639. Of 
 course this is a mistake of a year at least. 
 
 Foui' plays of Calderon appear in Vol. 
 XLII., Zarag09a, 16.50, viz. : (1.) "No 
 ay P)urlas con el Amor," (2.) "El Se- 
 creto a Voces," and (3.) "El Pintor d(> 
 su Deshoni'a"; — but "Del Key abajo 
 Ninguno " is also attributed to him, 
 though everybody knows it belongs to 
 Roxas, and, on the other hand, (4.) his 
 " Hija del Ayre " is attributed to Ant. 
 Enri([uez Gomez. 
 
 One play only is to be found in Vol. 
 XLIIL, Zaragoza, 1650, published by 
 Escuer, viz. " La Desdicha de la Voz." 
 
 How many more there may be by 
 Calileron in this collection, de.signated 
 as the Diferentes C^omedias, it is not 
 possible to ascertain, as so few of its 
 volumes are known to exi.st. No doubt 
 thei'(! were others besides those I have 
 enumerated. 
 
 But in 1652 began tin; collection of 
 the Comedias Escogidas, better known 
 than the last, but still troublesomely 
 rare. In the very first volume, pub- 
 lished in that year, are three ]ilays of 
 Calderon, to the publication of which 
 it seems as if he must have directly as- 
 sented, since his Aprovaciun, dated 18 
 May, 1652, is the first thing in the 
 volume. This, however, is only the 
 beginning. Forty-six more volumes of 
 this new collection appeared during his 
 lifetime, and contain forty-eiglit plays 
 attributed to him, many of them not 
 his, and almost all full of errors, ad- 
 ditions, and oversights. But two de- 
 serve especial notice, viz. " Las Armas 
 de la Hermosura," and "La Sehora y 
 la Criada," the last now known as "EI 
 Acaso y el Error." They are in Vol. 
 XLVL, 1679, and Vera Tassis, the 
 frientl of Cahh^ron, in his Advertencia 
 to the Comedias de Calderon, Tom. V.. 
 1694, .says that Calderon himself gave 
 thenr to him. Vera Tassis, to be jjrinted, 
 anil corrected their proof-sheets. We 
 have, therefore, these two plays at least 
 exactly as Calderon prepared them, and 
 on his own authority. 
 
 But while,' in both these larger col-
 
 418 
 
 CALDERON S DRAMAS. 
 
 [Pkfmoi. IL 
 
 355 * Vera Tas!<is, u-ivos several lists of plays, 
 amounting in all to a liundred and fifteen, 
 
 If.itiou.s, as wi'U as in otluTs of less 
 jiretensioii, separate i)lays of Caldcrou 
 were eonstaiitly reininted duriug his 
 lifetime, often in the most lawless man- 
 ner, au attempt was made to publish 
 them together in a way that should 
 give them the semljlance, at least, if 
 not the substance, of their author's au- 
 thority. Two volumes were published 
 for this purpose by his brotlun- Joseph. 
 ( )f the hrst, which 1 have never .seen, 
 but which appeared in 1635, the ac- 
 counts are very indistinct ; but it prob- 
 ably contained the same i)lays with 
 the first volume of tlie collection by 
 Vera Tassis, printed in 1685. (Hart- 
 zenbusch, Tom. IV., ]>. 654.) The 
 -second volume, jiublished by the same 
 person, appeared in 1637. I possess it, 
 and the plays, though not exactly in 
 the same order, ai'e the same ]days with 
 those published by Vera Tassis as his 
 Volume II., ill 1656. There is a second 
 edition of this second volume, JIadrid, 
 1641, of which 1 found a cojjy in the 
 Magliabecchi Library, Florence. In 
 1664, a third volume a]>peared, pre- 
 jiared by Ventura y Vergara, and in 
 1672, Vol. IV., with a letter pieO.xed 
 by himself, and a list of foit}--one ]ilays 
 jiuVdished as his, which he repudiates. 
 ■ Ami finally, in 1677, a fifth volume 
 was published at Barcelona, of whose 
 ten plays he denies four in the Preface 
 to the only volume of nntos he ever pub- 
 lished, but of which four I suppose two 
 are really his, notwithstanding his de- 
 nial. 
 
 And here the matter rested until after 
 f'alderon's death in 1681. Then Vera 
 Tassis y Villaroel, who calls himself 
 "his best fiiend," — hu mayor aviujo, 
 — took it up in earnest, not later than 
 1682, as we sei^; by t\w. aprovac tones and 
 liccnclas to his publications of the Co- 
 'incdi((.s. At first he seems to have as- 
 sumed that the five volumes noted 
 above as printed during C'alderon's life 
 might be deemed of sufficient authority 
 to constitute the foundation of his own 
 (collection, for lie began it in 1683 by 
 ]»rinting a si.rth volume witii fiprocdci- 
 iinfs, etc., of 1682, and among tliem the 
 famous one of Gueira, 14 April, 1682, 
 (.see jiost.. Chap. XXIV., note,) which 
 he took the tioubh; to ic]irint in his 
 Vol. v., 1694, and which excited a 
 
 long controveisv. (See post, Chaii. 
 XX iV.) This Vol. VI. he followed 
 uj) witli Vol. VII. the .same j-ear, 1683, 
 and with Vol. VIII. in 1684. But he 
 now a2)parentl}r became dissatisfied with 
 the five volumes printed earlier by Cal- 
 deron's brother an<l other jiersons, and 
 in 1685 he jiublished a new Vol. I., 
 containing, I think, the plays in that 
 of 1635, with their licfncia of that date. 
 In 1686 he went on with Vol. II., which 
 contains the plays in the Vol. II. of 
 1637, tiiough in a difierent order ; but 
 it should be noted that the "Mayor 
 jMonstruo del Jiiindo " is now much 
 altereil and il»T]>roved. In 1687 he 
 continued with Vol. 111., saying that 
 Ventura de la V^ega had indeed already 
 published it "con la vaua ostcntacion 
 de amigo de nucstro Don Pedro," but 
 that his edition was very incoriect, and 
 in one play omitted two hundred verses. 
 In 1688, lie furtiier published Vol. IV., 
 and in 1691, \'ol. IX., l(Ut with aprova- 
 ciones of 1682, showing that he had, 
 from the first, made arrangements for 
 publishing the entire collection of hi.s 
 friend's C'oincdias. And, finally, in 
 1694, he went back again in the series 
 and printed a fresh Vol. V., calling it 
 " La cerdadcra (piinta Parte," to dis- 
 tinguish it from the one Caldcrou had 
 repudiated, and giving in his Preface 
 a list of one hundred and twenty-one 
 plays rightfully ascribed to Calderon, 
 and a list of one hundred and six plays 
 faLselj' a.scribed to him. These nine 
 volumes, thus irregularly published by 
 Vera Tassis between 1683 and 1694 are 
 to Calderon what the first folio edition 
 of his ]>lays is to ii^akespeare ; and to 
 eight of the nine in my copy of them 
 is ])refixed a head of Calderon engi'aved 
 in 1682, by Fo.ssmann, whom Stirling 
 iegaids (]). 1053) as jiei'haps the best 
 engravei- of the time of Charles II. , antl 
 who.st! engraving of Calderon is, I think, 
 better, and from a ditferent and more 
 agieeable likeness, than that of Eber- 
 hard in the Obeli.sco Funebre, 1684. 
 
 These materials — but above all tlie 
 edition of Vera Ta.ssis — con.stitute the 
 jirojicr foundation for researches respect- 
 ing the C'liiiicduiN of Caldeion. A very 
 bad reprint of this edition ajipearcd at 
 Madiid in 1723-1726, in nine vohimes, 
 and a lietter one by Apontes, 1760-
 
 CiiAP. XXII.] 
 
 CALDERON S DKA:MA8. 
 
 419 
 
 priiitud by tlio cupidity of * the booksellers * 35G 
 MS Calderon's, without having any claim what- 
 soever to that honor ; and he adds, that many 
 others, * which Calderon had never seen, were * 357 
 sent from Seville to the Spanish possessions in 
 America.^^ 
 
 By means like these, the confusion became at last so 
 great, that the Duke of Veraguas, then the honored 
 head of the family of Columbus, and Captain-General 
 
 1763, in eleven volumes, which in its 
 turn was eclipsed by a thinl very care- 
 fully prei)ared hy an acconiplishetl Span- 
 ish .scholar, J. J. Kcil, of Leipzig, who 
 j)ublishe(l it in that city in four large 
 octavos in 1827-1830. Occasionally, 
 from the eailiest times, single plays of 
 Calderon have been printed, much like 
 the old ipiartos of Shakespeare, and 
 exactly such as were jiublished of all 
 the Spanish dramatists down to the 
 beginning of the present centur}', and 
 indeed pretty well into it. Selections, 
 too, were made b)'^ Huerta, Ortega, 
 Ochoa, and others. But all this was 
 iinsatisfactory. 
 
 At last J. E. Hartzenbu.sch, to whom 
 Spanish literature owes much in many 
 ways, undertook an edition for Kivade- 
 neyra, and published it in the Biblioteca 
 lie Autores Espaholes (Tom. VIl., IX., 
 XII., XIV., 1848-1850), leaving noth- 
 ing to be asked, if we' consider the state 
 
 i of the materials for such a work as he 
 found them, and not much to be hoped 
 from future r(!seandies. He gives us 
 one hundred and twenty-two Comedias, 
 
 ■ including ten either known to have been 
 partly written by Calderon, or believed 
 to be so on satisfactory evidence. Nine 
 plays, however, which are in Calderon's 
 own li.st of 1680, still remain to be ac- 
 counted for ; but we have now in Hart- 
 zenbusch's edition four not mentioned 
 there, and not in yn-evious collections. 
 This is something, but moie may ])er- 
 haps yet be discovered, and mon^ cer- 
 tainly should be sought for. In ad- 
 dition to the Comedias, Hartzenbusch 
 gives us fifteen Entrenieses, Mqjigaiigas, 
 and Jacaras Entremesadas attributed to 
 Calderon, I fear on slight authority, 
 and to which, on authority not better, 
 I could add one more ciihxmes in my 
 possession, said, on its title-page, to be 
 
 his work, viz. " Pelicano y Katon." 
 Hut all of them have little value, and 
 fail to satisfy the expectations excited 
 by the Graciosos in his full-length Co- 
 medias. I need not add that the edi- 
 tion of Hartzenbusch is by far the best 
 we have of Calderon's |)lays ; — the mo.st 
 ample and the most carefully prepared, 
 with good prefatoiy matter and excel- 
 lent appendices. 
 
 1 hoi^e he will, in the same way, edit 
 the autos, which, lieing the property of 
 the city of Madrid under the will of 
 their author, were not, for a long time, 
 permitted to be published, lest the 
 printed copies should impair the effect 
 of the annual, popular representations 
 in the streets. (Lara, Pnilogo.) (_'al- 
 deron, indeed, collected twelve of them 
 ibr jiublication in his lifetime, and pre- 
 ])aied a preface for them ; but although 
 the A]irovacion, Licencia, etc., are dated 
 1676, 1 have never seen any edition 
 earlier than the one printed at JIadrid, 
 161)0, wliich I possess, though, I doubt 
 not, there was one of 1677, nor were 
 more than these twelve published till 
 the edition of 1717 ajDpeared in six vol- 
 umes, of which there is a tolerable 
 reprint by Apontes, 1759-60. They 
 need a good editor, like Hartzenbusch, 
 and would well reward his labors. 
 
 -■^ Probably several more may be 
 added to the list of dramas that are 
 attributed to Calderon, and yet are not 
 his. I have noted "El Garrote mas 
 bien Dado," in " PjI Mejor de los me- 
 jores Libros de Comedias," 1653, 4to, 
 where it is given with two that are 
 genuine ; and " El Escandalo de Gre- 
 cia," which is in Comedias Escogida.s, 
 Tom. XL, 1659, where, at the end of 
 the play, (f. 176, b, ) it is imi)udently 
 announced as his in the usual form of 
 claiming authorship on the Sjianish stage.
 
 420 CALDEROX's DRAMAS. [Peiiiod II. 
 
 of the kingdom of Valencia, wrote a letter to Cakleron 
 in 1()S0, asking for a list of his dramas, by "which, as a 
 friend and admirer, he might venture to make a collec- 
 tion of them for himself The reply of the poet, com- 
 phiining bitterly of the conduct of the booksellers, 
 ■\vliicli had made such a request necessary, is accom- 
 panied by a list of one hundred and eleven full-length 
 dramas and seventy sacramentjil <ii>li>s. which he claims 
 as his own.-^ This catalogue constitutes the proper 
 basis for a knowledge of Calderon's dramatic works, 
 down to the present day. All the plays mentioned in 
 it have not, indeed, been found. Nine are not 
 *358 in the editions of Yera * Tassis, in 1682, of 
 . Apontes, in 1760, or of Hartzenbusch, in 1850 ; 
 but, on the other hand, a few" not in Calderon's list 
 have been added to theirs upon what has seemed suffi- 
 cient authority; so that we have now seventy-three 
 sacramental auto^^ with their introductory loas^ and 
 one hundred and eight comcdias, or — including plays 
 partly his — one himdred and twenty-two, on which 
 his reputation as a dramatic poet is at present to rest.^^ 
 
 2* This corrpspondence, so honorable ^5 x\\ tij(, ;o«s, however, are not Cal- 
 
 to Calderon, as well as to the head of deron's ; but it is no longer possible to 
 
 the family of Columbus, who signs determine which are not so. " No son 
 
 himself proudly. El Almircmte Duquc, todas suyas" is the phrase aj.plied to 
 
 — as Columbus himself had required them in the Prologo of the edition of 
 
 his descendants always to sign them- 1717. 
 
 selves, (Navarrete, Tom. II. p. 229,)— ^ Vera Ta.ssis tells us, indeed, in his 
 
 is to be found in tlie "Obelisco," and Life of Calderon, that Calderon wi-ote 
 
 again in Hiieita, "Teatro Hesi)rtri<)l," a huntlred sdi/netes, or short farces; 
 
 (Madrid, 1785, 12mo, Parte II. Tom. about a hundred aufos sucraincntales ; 
 
 III.,) and, with additions by Vera Tas- two hundred loas ; and more than one 
 
 sis, Comedias de Calderon, Tom. I., hundred and twenty cowcrf/os. But he 
 
 1685, and Tom. V., K594. The com- collected for his edition (1683-1694) 
 
 ])laints of Calderon about the book- only the comedias mentioned in the 
 
 sellers are very bitter, as well they might text, and thirteen more, intended for 
 
 be ; for in 1676. in his Preface' to his an a<lditional volume that never was 
 
 nutos, he says that their frauds took ]irinted. See notices of Calderon, by 
 
 away from tlie hospitals and other char- F. W. V. Schmidt, in the Wiener Jahr- 
 
 ities — which yet received onlv a small biicher der Literatur, Bande XVII., 
 
 part of the profits of the theatre — no XVIII., and XIX., 1822, to which I 
 
 less tlian twenty-si.x thousand ducats am much indebted, and which deserve 
 
 annually. to be printed .scjiaiately, and preserved.
 
 CuAP. XXII.] CALDEKON'b AUTOS. 421 
 
 In examining tlii.>< large mass of Calderon's dramatic 
 works, it will be most convenient to take first, and by 
 themselves, those which are ([iiite distinct from the 
 rest, and which alone he thought worthy of his care in 
 publication, — his «?^/c.5' or dramas for the Corpus Christ! 
 day. Nor are they undeserving of this separate notice. 
 There is little in the dramatic literature of any nation 
 more characteristic of the people that produced it than 
 this department of the Spanish theatre ; and, among 
 the many poets who devoted themselves to it, none 
 had such success as Calderon. 
 
 Of the early character and condition of the autos, 
 and their connection with the Church, we have already 
 spoken, when noticing Juan de la Enzina, Gil Vi- 
 cente, Lope de Vega, and Valdivielso. They 
 *were, from the twelfth and thirteenth cen- * 359 
 turies, among the favorite amusements of the 
 mass of the people ; but with the period at which we 
 are now arrived, they had gradually risen to be of 
 great importance. That the}^ were spread through 
 the whole country, even into the small villages, we 
 may see in the Travels of Agustin Roxas,^' who played 
 them everywhere, and in the Second Part of Don 
 Quixote, where the mad knight is represented as 
 
 The above wi-sh, expressed in the first to a careful examination of tlie one 
 
 edition of this work, in 1849, ])as been Imndred and eight comcdms in the edi- 
 
 uiore than fultilled by the following tions of Vera Tassis and Apontes ; to a 
 
 publication: "Die Sehauspiele Calde- .slight inquiry into the one hundred 
 
 ron'sdargestelltunderlautert von Fried. and six plays falsely attributed to Cal- 
 
 Wilh. Val. Schmidt aus gedrllcktcn und deron, of which Vera Tassis gives the 
 
 ungedriickten Papieren des Verfassers titles in his Verdadera quinta Parte, 
 
 zusammengesetzt, erganzt und heraus- 1694 ; to a notice of a few of Calderon's 
 
 gegeben von Leopold Schmidt," Elber- auton ; and to sueh other casual inves- 
 
 field, 1857, 8vo, pp. 543. The editor tigations as. these different subjects sug- 
 
 is the son of the author, and seems to gest. It is carefully edited, with a few 
 
 inherit his father's taste and learning, judicious notes and additions by the 
 
 giving us a work of more value to those .son, made in the conscientious spirit 
 
 who wish to make a critical study of of the father. 
 
 Calderon, than any other extant. But 27 l{oxa.s, Viage Entretenido, 1614, 
 
 it .should be observed, that this inqior- ff. 51, 52, and many other places, 
 tant work is almost entirely confined
 
 422 CALDEROX's AUTOS. [rEuioP JL 
 
 meeting a car that was carrying the actors for the 
 Festival of the Sacrament from one hamlet to an- 
 other.-^ This, it will be rememl^ered, was all before 
 1615. During the next thirty years, and especially 
 (luring the last portion of Calderon's life, the number 
 and consequence of the autos Avere much increased, and 
 they were represented with great luxury and at great 
 expense in the streets of all the larger cities; — so 
 important were they deemed to the influence of the 
 clergy, and so attractive had they become to all 
 classes of society, — to the noble and the cultivated no 
 less than to the multitude.^ 
 
 In Iboo, when they were at the heiirht of their sue- 
 cess, Aarsens de Somerdyck, an accomplished Dutch 
 traveller, gives us an account of them as he Avitnessed 
 their exhibition at Madrid.'^ In the forenoon of the 
 festival, he says, a procession occurred such as we have 
 seen was usual in the time of Lope de Vega, m here the 
 king and court appeared, without distinction of rank, 
 preceded by two fantastic figures of giants, and some- 
 times by the grotesque form of the TdniHca, — one of 
 which, we are told, in a pleasant story of Santos, pass- 
 ing by night from a place where it had been exhibited 
 
 the preceding day to one where it Mas to be 
 * 3G0 exhibited the day * following, so alarmed a body 
 
 of muleteers Avho accidentally met it, that the}- 
 roused up the country, as if a real monster were come 
 
 ■•" Don Quixote, eil. Pcllicer, Parte rious, with Barbier, Dictionimire d'Auo- 
 ll. e. 11, with the notes, iiynies, Paris, 1824, 8vo, No. 19,281. 
 
 ■■^^ In 1640 and 1641, and probably Tlie ««to which the Dutch traveller saw- 
 in other years, there were four aulus was, no doubt, one of Calderon'.s ; since 
 represented in the streets of JIadrid, (.'alderon then, and for a long time be- 
 duiing the festival of the Corjius Chiis- fore and after, furnish(;d the aii.tox for 
 ti ; and in the last-mentioned year we the city of Madrid. Jladame d'Aulnoy 
 an- told that the giants and the taraaca describes the same gorgeous ])roce.ssion 
 had new dre.s.ses in good ta.ste. Schack, a.s .she saw it in 1679, (Voyage, ed. 
 Xachtrage, 18.o4, pp. 72, 73. 1693, Tom. HI. pp. 52- .^j5,)'with the 
 
 ^' Voyage d'Espagne, Cologne, 1667, im])ertinent <(uU), as .she calls it, that 
 
 18mo, (Jliap. XVIIl., which is vi-ry cu- was perl'ornied that year.
 
 Chap. XXII.] CAIJ)P:KON's AUTOS. 423 
 
 among them to la}^ waste the land.^^ These missliapeii 
 figures and all tliis strange procession, witli music of 
 hautboys, tambourines, and castanets, with banners and 
 with religious shows, followed the sacrament through 
 the streets for some hours, and then returned to the 
 principal church, and were dismissed. 
 
 In the afternoon they assembled again and 2)erformed 
 the uufos, on that and many successive days, before the 
 houses of the great officers of state, where the audience 
 stood either in the balconies and windows that would 
 command a view of the exhibition, or else in the streets. 
 The giants and the Tarascas were there to make sport 
 for the multitude ; the music came, that all might dance 
 who chose ; torches were added to give effect to the 
 scene, though the performance was only by daylight ; 
 and the king and the royal fiimily enjoyed the exhi- 
 bition, sitting in state under a magnificent canopy in 
 front of the stage prepared for it at least once near 
 the palace. 
 
 As soon as the principal personages were seated, the 
 loa was spoken or sung ; then came a farcical cntremes ; 
 afterwards the auto itself; and finally, something by 
 way of conclusion that would contribute to the gen- 
 eral amusement, like music or dancing. And this was 
 continued, in different parts of the city, daily for a 
 month, during which the theatres were shut and the 
 regular actors were employed in the streets, in the 
 service of the Church .^"^ 
 
 "^1 La Veidad en el Potro, Madrid, Mas de fijcuras tnra.teax 
 
 1(586, 1 -21110, pp. 291, 292. The Dutch No hay duda que son fi-as. 
 
 tiavellei' had heard the same story, but 0^'°" '^^ Castalia, 1663, f. 89. 
 
 tells it less well. (Voyage, p."^121.) On tlie same occasion and on the 
 
 The larasca was no doubt excessively same authority, we learn that syii.sv 
 
 ugly. Montalvan (Coniedias, Madrid, girls, dancing with tambourines, formed 
 
 4to, 1638, f. 13) alludes to it lor its a part of the show, — a strange addition 
 
 monstrous deformity. to a Christian festival. 
 
 So does Ovando, describing a pro- :« c. Pellieer, On'gen de las Come- 
 
 cession in Malaga, in 1655 :— Jias, ]804, Tom. I. p. 258. 
 Ilwlia una sierpe sali > 
 Una tigura tremenda ; —
 
 424 CALDEROX'S AUTOS. [PF.nioD II. 
 
 Of the entertainments of this sort which Culcleron 
 furnished for Madrid, Toledo, and Seville, he has left, 
 as has heen said, no less than seventy-three. They are 
 
 all allegorical, and all, hy the music and show 
 * 3(U with which they * abounded, are nearer to operas 
 
 than any other class of dramas then known in 
 Spain ; some of them reminding us, by their religious 
 extravagance, of the treatment of the gods in the plays 
 of Aristophanes, and others, by their spirit and rich- 
 ness, of the poetical masques of Ben Jonson. They 
 are upon a great variety of subjects, and show, by their 
 structure, that elaborate and costly machinery must 
 have been itsed in theh^ representation. That they are 
 a most remarkable exhibition of the spirit of the Catho- 
 lic religion, on its poetical side, can no more be donbted 
 than the fact that they often produced a devout effect 
 on the multitudes that thronged to witness their per- 
 formance. 
 
 Including the ha that accompanied each, the aiifos of 
 Calderon are nearly or quite as long as the full-length 
 plays which he Avrote for the secular theatre. Some 
 of them indicate their subjects by their titles, like 
 "The First and Second Isaac," "God's Vineyard," and 
 "Ruth's Gleanings." Others, like "The True God 
 Pan" and "The First Flower of Carmel," give no 
 such intimations. All are crowded with shadowy per- 
 sonages, such as Sin, Death, Mohammedanism, Juda- 
 ism, Justice, Mercy, and Charity ; and the uniform 
 puqiose and end of all is to set forth and glorify 
 the doctrine of the Real Presence in the Eucharist. 
 The great Enemy of man, of course, fills a large 
 space in them, — Quevedo says too large, adding, 
 that, at last, he had grown to be quite a presuming 
 and vaint^lorious i)r'i'sona":e, cominii; on the stay:e
 
 Vu.w. XXI I.J CALDERON's AUTOS. 425 
 
 dressed finely, and talking as if the theatre were 
 altogether his own.*^ 
 
 There is necessarily a good deal of sameness in the 
 structure of dramas like these ; but it is wonderful with 
 Avhat ingenuity Calderon has varied his allegories, some- 
 times mingling them with the national history, as in 
 the case of the two aiitos on Saint Ferdinand ; oftener 
 with incidents and stories from Scripture, like '-The 
 Brazen Serpent " and "' The Captivity of the Ark "; and 
 always, where he could, seizing any popular occasion to 
 pi'oduce an effect, as he did after the completion 
 of the Escorial * and of the Buen Retiro, and '* 3G2 
 after the marriage of the Infanta Maria Teresa ; 
 each of which events contributed materials for a sepa- 
 rate auto. Almost all of them have passages of striking 
 lyrical poetr}^ as well as gorgeous descriptive passages ; 
 and a few, of which "Devotion to the Mass" is the 
 chief, make a free use of the old ballads. 
 
 One of the most characteristic of the collection, and 
 one that has great poetical merit in separate portions, 
 is " The Divine Orpheus."'^* It opens Avith the entrance 
 of a huge black car, in the shape of a boat, which is 
 drawn along the street toward the stage where the 
 unto is to be acted, and contains the Prince of Dark- 
 ness, set forth as a pirate, and Envy, as his steersman ; 
 ijoth supposed to be thus navigating through a portion 
 of chaos.^^ They hear, at a distance, sweet music which 
 
 ^ Quevedo, Obras, 1791, Tom. I. ji, young, among the rejoicings of the city 
 
 •386. \va.s a grand diainatii; entertainment, in 
 
 '^* It is in the fourth volume of the which a vast car appeared, that opened 
 
 edition printed at Madrid in 1759, and into si.x parts and discovered the new- 
 
 in the single volume iiublished in 1690. Ijorn prince kneeling before the Castu- 
 
 '^ Such dramatic representations and ilia that contained the wafer oi the 
 
 such cars were occ'asionally a part of sacrament, — "Thus," sa_ys the contem- 
 
 other great solemnities besides those porary account of tliese shows, "thus 
 
 of the Corpus Christi, which were the intimating that tlie )*i'inces of the au- 
 
 greatest of all. Thu.s, at Huesca, in gust House of Austria arc &yr« divinely 
 
 1657, after the birth of Don Fclijie tauglit to worship the most holy sacra- 
 
 Prospero, a soji of Philip IV., who dii <l incut." jielacioii dc las Fiestas <pu' hv
 
 426 CALDEKON's AUTOS. [Period II. 
 
 proceeds from another car, advancing from the opposite 
 quarter in the form of a celestial globe, covered with 
 the .signs of the planets and constellations, and con- 
 taining Orpheus, who represents allegoricallj the Cre- 
 ator of all things. This is followed by a third car, 
 ^setting forth the terrestrial globe, within which are the 
 Seven Days of the Week, and Human Nature, all asleep. 
 These cars open, so that the personages they contain 
 can come upon the stage and retire back again, as if 
 behind the scenes, at their pleasure; — the machines 
 themselves constituting, in this as in all such representa- 
 tions, an important part of the scenic arrangements of 
 the exhibition, and, in the popular estimation, not un- 
 
 frequently the most important part.'^'' 
 * 363 * On their arrival at the stage, the Divine 
 
 Orpheus, with lyrical poetry and music, begins 
 the work of creation, using always language borrowed 
 from Scripture ; and at the suitable moment, as he 
 advances, each Day presents itself, roused from - its 
 ancient sleep and clothed with symbols indicating the 
 nature of the work tliat has been accomplished ; after 
 which, Human Nature is, in the same way, summoned 
 forth, and appears in the form of a beautiful woman, 
 who is the Eurydice of the fable. Pleasure dwells with 
 her in Paradise ; and, in her exuberant happiness, she 
 sings a h}Tnn in honor of her Creator, founded on the 
 hundred and thirty-sixth Psalm, the poetical effect of 
 which is diminished by an imbecoming scene of allegor- 
 ical gallantry that immediately follows between the 
 Divine Orpheus hhnself and Human Nature.'^' 
 
 Ciudad de Hiiesra, cc, ha liecho al which was dedicated to the royal hahe 
 
 Naciiiiit'iito did Priiici[w mu'stro Senor in 16G1, wheu he was about three years 
 
 D. Ftlij>e Pros])cro. 4to. s. a. \\\>. :j;j- ohl. 
 
 37. It may be worth notice, that tliere *' Such a representation was often 
 
 is a finely enj^i-aved head of Prince Pros- called " fiesta de los cams." 
 
 pfTo, a-s a child, in an edition of Re- ^' The aut/)!i being founded on a doc- 
 
 boUedo's "Selva .Mililar y i'olitiia," trine of the Church, their use of Scrip-
 
 Chap. XXII. I CALDERON'S AUTOS. 427 
 
 The temptation and fall succeed ; and tlien the 
 graceful Days, which had before always accompanied 
 Human Nature and scattered gladness in her path, dis- 
 appear one by one, and leave her to her trials and her 
 sins. She is overwhelmed with remorse, and, endeavor- 
 ing to escape from the consequences of her guilt, is 
 conveyed by the Ijark of Lethe to the realms of the 
 Prince of Darkness, who, from his first appearance on 
 the scene, has been laboring, with his coadjutor, Envy, 
 for this very triumph. But his triumph is short. The 
 Divine Orpheus, who has, for some time, represented 
 the character of our Saviour, comes upon the stage, 
 weeping over the fall, and sings a song of love and 
 grief to the accompaniment of a harp made partly in 
 the form of a cross ; after which, rousing himself in 
 iiis omnipotence, he enters the realms of darkness, 
 amidst thunders and earthquakes ; overcomes all oppo- 
 sition ; rescues Human Nature from perdition ; places 
 he», with the seven redeemed Days of the Week, on a 
 fourth car, in the form of a ship, so ornamented as to 
 represent the Christian Church and the mystery of the 
 Eucharist ; and then, as the gorgeous machine sweeps 
 away, the exhibition ends with the shouts of the 
 actors in * the drama, accompanied by the an- * 364 
 swering shouts of the devout spectators on their 
 knees wishing the good ship a good voyage and a happy 
 arrival at her destined port.'^^ 
 
 ture and of scriiituml allusions is, of tliere in November, 1635, — got up in 
 course, abundant. Perliajis the most consequence of an outrage which had 
 striking instance of this is in Calderon's been offered to the Holy Sacrament 
 " Cena de Balta.sar," in Tom. II., 1759. four months earlier by a French heretic, 
 ** Allegorical ships were not iincom- and for which it was intended thus to 
 rion in religious exhibitions. We have atone, — dcsagraviar ; — the Ship of 
 noticed two such already in Lope's early Faith firing broadsides of texts of Scrip- 
 drama entitled "The Soul's Voyage." ture at Luther, Wiclif, Calvin, aiuHEeo- 
 (See rtiife, Chap. XV.) Another, float- lani[)adius, who were swimming about 
 ing on a sea of silver before the Chapel and vainly striving to repeat tlie out- 
 of the Sacrament, in the Cathedral of rage. See Descripcion de la grandiosa 
 Granada, was exhibited at a festival y celebre Fiesta, ec., por D. Pedro de
 
 428 rOPULAFvlTY OF AUTOS. [Pkuiod II. 
 
 That these Sacramental Acts produced a great effect, 
 there can be no doubt. Allegory of all kinds, Avhich. 
 from the earliest periods, had been fittractiw to tlie 
 Spanish people, still continued so to an extraordinary 
 degree ; and the imposing show of the aidos, their 
 music, and the fact that the}^ Avere represented in 
 seasons of solemn leisure, at the expense of the govern- 
 ment, and with the sanction of the Church, gave them 
 claims on the popular ftivor which were enjoyed by no 
 other form of popular amusement. They Avere writ^ 
 ten and acted everywhere throughout the country, and 
 by all classes of people, because they were everywhere 
 demanded. How humble w^ere some of their exhibi- 
 tions in the villages and hamlets may be seen from 
 Roxas. who o-ives an account of an auto on the storv of 
 
 .'CI x/ 
 
 Cain, in which two actors performed all the j)arts;'^ 
 and from Lope de Vega^ and Cervantes,*^ who speak 
 of autos being written by barbers and acted by shep- 
 herds. On the other hand, we know that in Ma<!Jrid 
 no expense was spared to add to their solemnity and 
 effect, and that everywhere the}' had the countenance 
 and support of the puljlic authorities. Nor has their 
 influence even yet entirely ceased. In 1765, Charles 
 the Third forbade their public representation ; but the 
 popular will and the habits of five centuries could not 
 
 be immediately broken down bv a royal decree. 
 * 365 Autos, * therefore, or dramatic religious farces 
 
 resembling them, are still heard in some of the 
 remote villages of the country; while, in the former 
 
 Araujo Salgado, Granada, ]635, 4to, gave birth to many of them, — perhaps 
 
 ff. 12-15. The Vfll-known Nanen- to tliis one at (hanada. 
 
 Schifi' of Sebastian Hrandt, familiar in '^^ Viage, l(jl4, (f. 3r>-37. 
 
 all languages, and in every form that *" Lo])ede Vega, Comedias, Tom. IX., 
 
 the press could give it, from its first Barcelona, 1618, f. 133, El Animal de 
 
 apjtearance, about 1480, down to com- Ungria. 
 
 ])aratively recent times, belongs to the *^ Don Qui.xote, Parte I. c. xii. 
 
 saiiK! cla.ss of fictions, and no doubt
 
 Chap. XXII.) CALDKKON S RELIGIOUS COMEDIAS. 
 
 429 
 
 (lependeiicies ol' Spain, exhibitions oi' llic same class 
 and nature, if not precisely of the same form, have 
 never been interfered with.^'^ 
 
 Oij'idl-lcugtli religious pl<i//s and pl(u/s of saints Calderon 
 wrote, in all, thirteen or fourteen. This was, no doubt, 
 necessary to his success ; for at one time during- his 
 career, such plays were much demanded. The death 
 of Queen Isabella, in 1644, and of Balthasar, the heir- 
 apparent, in 1C)4(), caused a suspension of public repre- 
 sentations on the theatres, and revived the question of 
 their lawfulness. New rules were prescribed about the 
 number of actors and their costumes, and an attempt 
 w\as made even to drive from the theatre all plays in- 
 
 *^ Doblado's Letters, 1822, pp. 296, 
 301, 303 - 309 ; Mailaiiie Calderoii'.s 
 Life in Mexico, London, 1843, Letters 
 38 and 39 ; and Thompson's Reeollec- 
 tions of Mexico, New York, 1846, 8vo, 
 chap. 11. How much the autua were 
 valued to the last, even by respectable 
 ecclesiastics, may be inferred from the 
 ^rave admii-ation bestowed on them by 
 Martin Panzano, chaplain to the Span- 
 ish embassy at Turin, in his Latin 
 treatise, " L)e Hispanorum Literatura," 
 (Mantuic, 17^)9, folio,) intended as a 
 defence of his country's literary claims, 
 in which, s])eaking of the autos of Cal- 
 deron, only a few years before they were 
 forbidden, 'he says they were dramas, 
 "in quibus ne(|ue in inveniendo acu- 
 men, nee in disponendo ratio, necpie in 
 ornando aut venustas, ant nitor, ant 
 niajestas desiderantur." — p. Ixxv. 
 
 Even in Germany, genuine " mii'acle- 
 plays" have not wholly disappeared, as 
 we have .seen they had not in France in 
 1805. (See ante. Period L Chap. XIII. 
 Tiote 3.) Thus, once in ten years, if 
 not oftener, at Oberammergau, in Ba- 
 varia, a " Passions-schauspiel," begin- 
 ning with the entrance of the Saviour 
 into Jerusalem, and ending with his 
 resurrection, is acted in fulfilment of a 
 vow made there during a pestilence in 
 1633. I have the ehjlit.h edition of the 
 poetical ])arts of this singular jday, 
 printed at Munich in 1860, and an ac- 
 
 count of the representation of it, which 
 0(!curre(l thirteen times in the course of 
 that year, published at Leipzig in 18.51, 
 bj^ Eduard Devrient, 4to, pp. 43, witli 
 plates to illustrate it ju.st as it appeared, 
 acted in the open air, and another vol- 
 ume of documents about it by M. Van 
 Deutinger, Munchen, 1851. The whole 
 leaves no doubt that this extraordinary 
 exhibition, at which six thousand per- 
 sons are sonu^times ju'esent, is made in 
 the religious si)irit of the Middle Ages ; 
 all the people in the village wlier(; it 
 occurs taking part in the show, or in 
 the preparations for it. The piincipal 
 drama is broken into scenes by twenty- 
 eight tableaux, in pantomime, of events 
 from the Old Testament, and is among 
 the most wild antl strange relics of the 
 Theati'e of the Middle xVges that have 
 come down to our times. The wonder 
 is that it has reached us, not embalmed 
 as a literary curiosity, but as a living 
 interest of living men, educated in a 
 wholly different state of the world from 
 the one that originally produced it, and 
 to which alone it seems fitted. Pe- 
 cuniary profit, however, is, no doubt, 
 one of the main-springs of its contin- 
 \wA success. It forms a large interest 
 in an English novel entitled "Quits," 
 written l)y an English lady married 
 in Bavaria, who must have witnessed 
 it in order to have described it so 
 well.
 
 430 CALDEROX's KELIGIOUS COMKDIAS. [I'l-iuoo II. 
 
 Yolviiig the passion of love, and especially all 
 * 3GG the plays of * Lope de Vega. This irritable 
 
 state of thino-s continued till 1G49. But noth- 
 ing of conser|uence followed. The regulations that 
 were made were not executed in the spirit in which 
 they were conceived. Many plays were announced 
 and acted as religious which had no claim whatever to 
 the title ; and others, religious hi their extei'ual frame- 
 work, were filled up with an intriguing love-plot, as 
 free as anything in the secular drama had Ijcen. In- 
 deed, there can be no doubt that the attempts thus 
 made to constrain the theatre were successfully opposed 
 or evaded, especially by private representations in the 
 houses of the nobility ;^^ and that, when these attempts 
 were given up, the drama, with all its old attributes 
 and attractions^ broke forth with a greater extrava- 
 gance of popularity than ever ; ^ — a fact apparent 
 from the crowd of dramatists that became lanious, and 
 from the circumstance that so many of the clergy, like 
 Tarresfa, Mira de Mescua, Montalvan, Tirso de Molina, 
 and Calderon, to say nothing of Lope de A'ega. who 
 
 *3 These representations in private A few liints and facts on the subject of 
 houses had long l)een common. Bisbe the secular drama of this period may 
 y Yidal (Tratado, 1618, c. 18) speaks also be found in L'lloa y Pereira's de- 
 of them as familiar in Barcelona, and fence of it, written apparently to meet 
 treats them, in his otherwise severe at- the troubles of 1644-1650, but not 
 tack on the theatre, with a gentleness i)ublished until 1659, 4to. He con- 
 that shows he recognized their influence. tends that tlicre was never any serious 
 
 ** It is not easy to make out how purpose to break up the theatre, and 
 
 much the theatre was really interfered that even Philip II. meant only to reg- 
 
 with during these four or five years; ulate, not to sup]u-ess it. (p. 343.) 
 
 but the dramatic writers seem to have Don Luis Crespe de Borja, Bishop of 
 
 felt themselves constrained in their Orihuela and ambassador of Pliilip IV. 
 
 course, more or less, for a part of that at Home, who had previously favoivd 
 
 time, if not the whole of it. The ae- the theatre, made, in Lent, 1646, an 
 
 counts are to be found in Casiano Pel- attack on it in a sermon, which, when 
 
 licer, Origen, etc., de la Coniedia, Tom. i>ublished thiee years afterwards, ex- 
 
 I. pp. 216-222, and Tom. II. ]>. 135 ; cited a considerable sensation, and wa.s 
 
 — a work important, Init ill tligested. answered by Andres de Avila y Here- 
 
 Conde, the historian, once told me that dia, el Senor de la Gareua, and sus- 
 
 its materials were furnished chiefly by tained by Padre Ignacio Camargo. But 
 
 the autlior's father, the learned editor nothing of this sort much hindered or 
 
 of Don Quixote, and that the son did helped the progress of the drama in 
 
 not know how to put them together. Spain.
 
 'Chap. XXII.] CALDERON's RELIGIOUS COMEDIAS. 431 
 
 was particularl}' exact in his duties as a priest, were all 
 successful writers for the stage .*^ 
 
 *■ Of the religious plays of Calderon, one of * 367 
 the most remarkal)le is " The Pui-gatorj of Saint 
 Patrick." It is founded on the little volume by Mon- 
 talvan, already referred to, in which the old traditions 
 <3f an entrance into Purgatory from a cave in an island 
 off the coast of Ireland, or in Ireland itself, are united 
 to the fictitious history of Ludovico Enio, a Spaniard, 
 who, except that he is converted by Saint Patrick and 
 ''makes a good ending," is no better than another Don 
 Juan.*'' The strange play in which these are principal 
 figures opens with a shipwreck. Saint Ptitrick and the 
 godless Enio drift ashore and find themselves in Ire- 
 land, — the sinner being saved from drowning by the 
 vio-orous exertions of the saint. The kino; of the coun- 
 try, who immediately appears on the stage, is an atheist, 
 furious against Christianity ; and after an exhibition, 
 which is not without poetry, of the horrors of savage 
 heathendom. Saint Patrick is sent as a slave into the 
 interior of the island, to work for this brutal master. 
 
 *5 The clergy writing loose and ini- the same ; how devoutly you may guess. 
 
 moral plays is only one exemplification But custom is very potent in this coun- 
 
 of the unsound state of society so often try." Ed. 1693, Tom. II. p. 124. 
 
 set forth in Madame d'Aulnoy's Travels **' The " Vida y Purgatorio del Glori- 
 
 in Spain, in 1679-80; — a curious and o.so San Patric'io," (1627,) of which I 
 
 amusing book, which sometimes throws have a copy, (Aladrid, 1739, 18mo,) was 
 
 a strong light on the nature of the re- long a popular book of devotion, both 
 
 ligious spirit that so frecpiently .sur- in S[>anish and in French. That Cal- 
 
 prises us in Sjianish literature. Thus, deron used it is obvious throughout his 
 
 when she is giving an account of the play. Wright, however, in his pleasant 
 
 constant nse made of the rosary or work on St. Patrick's Purgatory, (Lon- 
 
 \:haplet of beads, — a well-known pas- don, 1844, 12nio, pp. 156- 159,) su])- 
 
 .sion in Spain, connected, perhaps, with poses that the French book of dc'votion 
 
 the Mohanunedan origin of the rosary, was made up chiefly from Calderon's 
 
 uf which the Christian rosary was made play ; whereas they resemble eacli other 
 
 a rival, — she says, "They are going only because both were tak(!n from the 
 
 over their beads constantly when they Spanish prose work of Montalvan. See 
 
 are in the streets, and in conversation ; ante, p. 314. Enio, under different 
 
 when they are playing omhre, making nanuis, is known to the old monkish 
 
 love, telling lies, or talking scandal. accounts of St. Patrick, from the twelfth 
 
 In short, they are forever muttering century ; but it is Montalvan and Cal- 
 
 •over their cliaplets ; and even in tlie deron who have made him the personage 
 
 most ceremonious society it goes on just we now recognize.
 
 432 CALDERON's ItELKaOUS COMEDIA.S. [Pkuioi. il 
 
 The first act ends with his arriviil at his destination, 
 ■where, in the open fields, after a fervent prayer, he 
 is comforted by an angel, and warned of the will of 
 Heaven, tliat he slionld convert his oppressors. 
 
 Before the second act opens, three years elapse, dur- 
 ing which Saint Patrick has visited Rome and been 
 regularly commissioned for his great work in Ireland, 
 where he nov\" appears, ready to undertake it. He im- 
 mediately performs miracles of all kinds, and, among^ 
 the rest, raises the dead before the audience ; but still 
 the old heathen king refuses to be converted, unless 
 the very Purgatory, Hell, and Paradise preached 
 * 368 to him are made sure to the * senses of some 
 . well-known witness. This, therefore, is divinely 
 vouchsafed to the intercession of Saint Patrick. A com- 
 munication with the iniseen world is opened through a 
 dark and frightful cave. Enio. the godless Spaniard, 
 already converted hy an alarming vision, enters it and 
 witnesses its dread secrets ; after which he returns, 
 and effects the conversion of the king and court by a 
 long description of what he had seen. This, however, 
 is the only catastrophe to the play. 
 
 Besides its religious story, the Purgatory of Saint 
 Patrick has ji love-plot, such as might become the 
 most secular drama, and a gracioso as rude and free- 
 spoken as the rudest of his class.^" But the whole 
 was intended to produce what was then regarded as 
 a religious effect ; and there is no reason to suppose 
 that it failed of its purpose. There is, however, much 
 
 *7 When Enio determines to adven- Or, if the matter must to goblins come, 
 
 ture into the rave of Purgatory, he por '„"v pSTon ''' '''^^^ ^°°"^^ "' °°'' 
 
 gravely urges his servant, who is the ' ""• ' co„edia.s, 1760, Tom. II. p. 264. 
 
 (iracioso of the tiieee, to go with him ; ,r,i • i i i i ..i .. • 
 
 V. 1 • 1 ti „ .!,„„*. ..„,>!;„ I here IS, however, a good deal that is 
 
 to whidi the servant replies, — , -^i • i i i v ■ i 
 
 ' solemn m this wild drama, hiiio, when 
 
 T ncvr-r h.-anl h^fore that any man ]„. „„f.^ ^,y ^l^, i„f,.,„al world, talks, la 
 
 Took lafki'v with hlin when he went to hell I xi • -^ »■ r\ . i • ii- r 
 
 Xn,-to nn- native vilUi(jc will I ha^te. the .spirit of Dante himselt, ot 
 
 Where I eau live in something like content ; Treading on the very ghost.s of men.
 
 €nAi-. XXll.l (AI.DKIJOX'S IMCr.KJIOUS COMEDIAS. 433 
 
 ill It that would Ix' iiuscciiily mider any system of 
 i'aith ; some wearying metaphysics ; and two s[)eeches 
 of Enio's, each above three hundred hues long, — tlie 
 first an account of his shameful life before his conver- 
 sion, and the last a narrative of all he had witnessed 
 in the cave, absurdly citing for its truth fourteen or 
 fifteen obscure monkisli authoi'ities, all of which 1)elong 
 to a period subsequent to his own.*^ Such as it is, 
 however, the Puro-atorv of Saint Patrick is commonly 
 ranked among the best religious plays of the Spanish 
 theatre in the seventeenth century. 
 
 It is, indeed, on many accounts, less offensive than 
 the more famous drama, "Devotion to the Cross," 
 printed in 1635, which is founded on the adventures 
 of a man who, though his life is a tissue of gross and 
 atrocious crimes, is yet made an object of the especial 
 favor of God, because he shows a uniform exter- 
 nal * reverence for whatever has the form of a * 360 
 cross ; and who, dying in a rutfian brawl, as a 
 robber, is yet, in consequence of this devotion to the 
 cross, miraculously restored to life, that he may confess 
 his sins, be absolved, and then be transported directly 
 to heaven. The whole seems to be absolutely an in- 
 vention of Calderon, and, from the fervent poetical tone 
 of some of its devotional passages, it has always been 
 a favorite in Spain, and, what is yet more remarkable, 
 has found ardent admirers in Protestant Christendom.'*'' 
 
 *^ See ch;q)teis 4 and (3 of Moiital- the "Cabellos de Absalon " and "Las 
 
 van's " Patricio." Aniazonas " of Calderon, and of the 
 
 ** It is beautifully translated by A. "Numancia" of Cervantes. A drama 
 
 W. Sehh'fjel, — the first play in his eol- of Tirso de Molina, " El Condenado ])()r 
 
 lection of 1803, — preserving rigorously Desconfiado," goes still more profoundly 
 
 the measures and manner of the oi-igi- into the peculiar religious faith of tlie 
 
 nal, and following its uaonnnten as well age, and may well be eom])ared with 
 
 as its rhynu^s. AH the translations of the "Devocion de la Cruz," which it 
 
 Schlegel from the Spanish theatre are preceded in time, and perliaps surpasses 
 
 worth reading. The amplest edition in poetical merit. It represents a rev- 
 
 of th(!m is the one in two vols., 12mo, erend hermit, Paulo, as losing the favor 
 
 Leipzig, 1845, containing fiagments of of God, simply from want of trust in 
 vor,. II. 28
 
 434 CALDEROX'S RELIGIOUS COMEDIAS. [Pkiuoi. II. 
 
 "The AVonder-workiiiii; Mai»:ic'iini," founded on the 
 stoiy of Saint Cyprian, — the 8anie legend on which 
 Mihiian has founded his '• Martyr of Antioch," — is, 
 however, more attractive than either of the dramas 
 just mentioned, and, Uke " El Joseph de las Mugeres," 
 reminds us of Goethe's '^' Faust." It opens — after one 
 of those gorgeous descriptions of natural scenery in 
 which Calderon loves to indulge — with an account 
 ^y Cyprian, still unconverted, of his retirement, on a 
 day devoted to the service of Jupiter, from the bustle 
 and confusion of the city of Antioch, in order to spend 
 the time in inquiries concerning the existence of One 
 Supreme Deity. As he seems likely to arrive at con- 
 clusions not far from the truth, Satan, to whom such a 
 result would be particularly uuMelcome, breaks in upon 
 his studies, and, in the dress of a fine gentleman, an- 
 nounces himself to be a man of learning, who has acci- 
 dentally lost his way. In imitation of a fashion not 
 rare among scholars at European imiversities in the 
 poet's time, this personage offers to hold a dispute with 
 Cyprian on any sul)ject whatever. CVprian naturally 
 
 chooses the one that then troubled his thoughts ; 
 * 370 *and after a long, logical discussion, according 
 
 to the discipline of the schools, obtains a clear 
 victory, — though not without feeling enough of his 
 adversary's power and genius to express a sincere 
 admiration for l)oth. Tlie evil spirit, however, though 
 defeated, is not discouraged, and goes awa}', deter- 
 mined to try tlie power of temptation. 
 
 it ; while Enrico, a robbuv ami assassin, that the rebellious angels were thrust 
 
 obtains that favor by an exercise of down to jjerdition for a single offence 
 
 faith anil trust at the last moment of a without any power to regain, by peni- 
 
 life which hail been filled with the most tence, their lost places in heaven, while 
 
 revolting criines. Satan complains, I man, though he make a god of his 
 
 think, very justly of this state of the sins, can, at last, recover the Divine 
 
 ca.se in a jday of Malaspina, (La Fueiza favor by a sigh or a few tears, 
 di' la Vcrdad, Join. 1.,) where he says,
 
 Chap. XX 1 1] CALDEKON's HELIGIOUS (X)MEDIAS. 435 
 
 For this piir])<)se he ))rings upon the stage Lelius, 
 soil of the governor of Antioch, and Florus, — both 
 IViends of Cyj)i-ian. — who eonie to fight a duel, near 
 the place of his present retirement, concerning a fair 
 lady named Justina, aganist whose gentle innocence 
 the Spirit of all Evil is particularly incensed. Cyprian 
 interferes; the parties rel'er their (piarrel to him; he 
 visits Justina, who is secretly a Christian, and supj^oses 
 herself to be the daughter of a Christian priest ; but, 
 unhappily, Cyprian, instead of executing his commis- 
 sion, falls desperately in love with her; while, in 
 order to make out the ruiniing parody on the prin- 
 cipal action, common in Spanish plays, the two lackeys 
 of Cyprian are both found to be in love with Justina's 
 maid. 
 
 Now, of course, begins the complication of a truly 
 Spanish intrigue, for which all that precedes it is only 
 a preparation. That same night Lelius and Florus, the 
 two original rivals for the love of Justina, who favors 
 neither of them, come separately before her window 
 to offer her a serenade, and while there, Satan deceives 
 them both into a confident belief that the lady is dis- 
 gracefully attached to some other person ; for he him- 
 self, in the guise of a gallant, descends from her bal- 
 cony, before their eyes, by a rope-ladder, and, having 
 reached the bottom, sinks into the ground betw^een the 
 two. As they did not see each other till after his dis- 
 appearance, though both had seen him, each takes the 
 other to be this favored rival, and a duel ensues on the 
 spot. Cyprian again opportunely interferes, but, hav- 
 ing understood nothing of the vision or the rope-ladder, 
 is astonished to find that both renounce Justina as no 
 longer worthy their regard. And thus ends the first 
 act.
 
 436 CALDEKON'b JIELJGIOUS COMEDIA-S. [Vi.v.iou II. 
 
 Ill the two Other acts, Satan i.s still a bii.^y, bustlmg 
 personage. He appears in different forms ; first, 
 * 371 as if *j list escaped from shij)wieek ; and after- 
 wards, as a fashionable gallant ; but imiformly 
 for mischief. The Christians, meantime, through his 
 influence, are persecuted. Cvprian's love grows des- 
 perate ; and he sells his soul to the Sjiirit of Evil for 
 the possession of Justina. The temptation of the fair 
 Christian maiden is then carried on in all possible waj's ; 
 especially in a beautiful lyrical allegoiy, where all 
 things about her — the birds, the flowers, the balmy 
 air — are made to solicit her to love with gentle and 
 winning voices. But in every way the temptation 
 fails. Satan's utmost power is defied and defeated by 
 the mere spirit of innocence. Cyprian, too, yields, and 
 becomes a Christian, and with Justina is mimediately 
 brought before the governor, alreadj- exasperated b3' 
 discoverino* that his own son is a lover of the fair con- 
 vert. Both are ordered to instant execution ; the buf- 
 foon servants make many poor jests on the occasion ; 
 and the piece ends by the appearance on a dragon 
 uf Satan himself, who is compelled to confess the 
 power of the Supreme Deity, which in the first scenes 
 he had denied, and to proclaim, amidst thunder and 
 earthquakes, that Cyprian and Justina are already 
 enjoying the happiness won by their glorious martyr- 
 dom.^ 
 
 Few pieces contain more that is characteristic of the 
 old Spanish stage than this one ; and fewer still show 
 so plainly how the civil restraints laid on the theatre 
 
 ^ An interesting, but somewhat too vom wunderthiitigen Magus." Beauti- 
 metaphysical, discussion of this play, ful translations of some scenes from it 
 with prefatory remarks on the general were first jmblished in Shellej''s Post- 
 merits of Calderon, by Karl Rosenki-anz, humous Poems, London, 8vo, 1824, 
 api>eared at Leipzig" in 1829, (r2mo,) pp. 362-392. 
 entitled, " Uebi-i- (':il(lir(in\ Tragijdie
 
 Chap. XXII.] CALDERON's KELIGIOUS COMEDIAS. 
 
 437 
 
 were evaded, and the Church was conciUated, while 
 the popuLar audiences lost nothing of the forbidden 
 amusement to which they had been long accustomed 
 from the secular drama.'^^ Of such plays Calde- 
 ron wrote fifteen, if we include * in the number * 372 
 his " Aurora in Copacobana," which is on the 
 conquest and conversion of the Indians in Peru ; ^^ and 
 his " Origin, Loss, and Recovery of the Virgin of the 
 
 ^^ How completely a light, worldly 
 tone was taken in these plays may be 
 seen in the following words of the Ma- 
 donna, when she personally gives St. 
 Ildefonso a rich vestment, — the chasu- 
 ble, — in which he is to say mass : — 
 
 Receive this robe, that, at my holy feast, 
 Thou raayst be seen as such a gallant should be. 
 Mv taste must be consulted in thy dress. 
 Like that of any other famous lady. 
 
 Comedias, 1760, Tom. VI. p. 113. 
 
 The lightness of tone in this passage is 
 the more remarkable, because the mira- 
 cle alluded to in it is the crowning 
 glory of the great cathedral of Toledo, 
 on which volumes have been written, 
 and on which Murillo has painted one 
 of his greatest and most solemn pictures, 
 "while a little earlier. Fray Juan Sanchez 
 Cotan received, as he claimed, the honor 
 of a sitting from the Madonna herself, 
 when he was engaged in representing 
 the same miraculous scene. Stirling's 
 Artists, 1848, Vol. I. p. 439, Vol. II. 
 p. 915. 
 
 Figueroa (Pasagero, 1617, ff. 104- 
 106) says, with much truth, in the 
 midst of his severe remarks on the 
 drama of his time, that the comedias 
 de Santos were so constructed, that the 
 lirst act contained the youth of the 
 saint, with his follies and love-adven- 
 tures ; the second, his conversion and 
 subsequent life ; and the third his mira- 
 cles and death ; but that they often had 
 loose and immoral stories to render 
 them attractive. Tliey were, however, 
 of all varieties ; and it is curious, in 
 such a collection of dramas as the one 
 in forty-eight volumes, extending over 
 the period from 1652 to 1704, to mark 
 in how manv ways the theatre endeav- 
 ored to conciliate the Church ; some of 
 the plays being filled entirely with 
 saints, demons, angels, and allegorical 
 personages, and deserving the character 
 
 given to the "Fenix de Espana," (Tom. 
 XLIIL, 1678,) of being sermons in the 
 shape of j'lays ; while others are mere 
 intriguing comedies, with an angel or 
 a saint put in to consecrate their im- 
 moralities, like '^ La Defen.sora de la 
 Reyna de Ungi'ia," by Fernando de 
 Zarate, in Tom. XXIX., 1668. 
 
 In other countries of Christendom 
 besides those in which the Church of 
 Rome bears sway, this sort of irrever- 
 ence in relation to things divine has 
 more or less shown itself among per- 
 sons accounting themselves religious. 
 The Puritans of England in the days 
 of Cromwell, from their belief in the con- 
 stant interference of Providence about 
 their affaii-s, sometimes addressed sup- 
 plications to God in a spirit not more 
 truly devout than that shown by the 
 Spaniards in their autos and their co- 
 medias de sanios. Both felt themselves 
 to ])e peculiarly regarded of Heaven, 
 and entitled to make the most peremp- 
 tory claims on the Divine favor and 
 the most free allusions to what they 
 deemed holy. But no people ever felt 
 themselves to be so absolutely soldiers 
 of the cross as the Spaniards did, from 
 the time of their ^Moorish wars ; no 
 people ever trusted so constantly to 
 the recurrence of miracles in the affairs 
 of their daily life ; and therefore no 
 people ever talked of divine things as 
 of matters in their nature so familiar 
 and commonplace. Traces of this state 
 of feeling and character are to be found 
 in Spanish literature on all sides. See 
 Calderon's aiUo " No ay instante sin 
 milagro." 
 
 ^'■^ The remarks of Malsburg on this 
 pla}' are well worth reading. They are 
 in the Preface to his translations from 
 Calderon, Leipzig, 1821, Vol. IV. He 
 cites passages on the subject of the play 
 from the Inca Garcilasso to illustrate it.
 
 438 CALDEROX'S rvELlGIOUb COMEDIAS. [Pki:iod II. 
 
 Reliquary,' — a strange collection of legends, extend- 
 ing over above four centuries, full of the spirit of the 
 old ballads, and relating to an image of the Madonna 
 still devoutly worshipped in the great cathedral at 
 Toledo.
 
 *CHArTEIJ XXIII. *373 
 
 CALDERON, COXTINUED. — HIS SECULAR PLAYS. DIFFICULTY OF CLASSIFYING 
 
 THEM. THEIR PRINCIPAL INTEREST. NATURE OF THEIR PLOTS. LOVK 
 
 SURVIVES LIFE. PHYSICIAN OF HIS OWN HONOR. PAINTER OF HIS OWyC 
 
 DISHONOR. NO MONSTER LIKE JEALOUSY. FIRM-HEARTED PRINCE. 
 
 Passing from the religious plays of Calderon to the 
 secular, we at once encounter an embarrassment which 
 we have already felt in other cases, — that of dividing 
 them all into distinct and appropriate classes. It i?^ 
 even difficult to determine, in every instance, whether 
 the piece we are considering belongs to one of the 
 religious subdivisions of his dramas or not ; since the 
 " Wonder-w^orking Magician," for instance, is hardly 
 less an intriguing play than " First of all my Lady " ; 
 and '* Aurora in Copacobana " is as full of spiritual 
 personages and miracles, as if it were not, in the main, 
 a love-story. But, even after setting this difficulty 
 aside, as we have done, by examining separately all 
 the dramas of Calderon that can, in any way, be ac- 
 counted religious, it is not possible to make a definite 
 classification of the remainder. 
 
 Some of them, such as '- Nothing like Silence," are 
 absolutely intriguing comedies, and belong strictly to 
 the school of the capay cspada ; others, like " A Friend 
 Loving and Loyal," are purely heroic, both in their 
 structure and their tone ; and a few others, such as 
 '■• Love survives Life," and " The Physician of his own 
 Honor," belong to the most terrible ins])irations of 
 genuine tragedy. Twice, in a different direction, we
 
 440 caldekon's secular comedias. [rEuioD ir. 
 
 liave operas, -which are yet nothing Init phiys in 
 * 374 the national taste, with music added;' * and 
 
 once we have a burlesqne drama, — '• Cepha- 
 his and Procris." — in whicli, usinu- the lansiuao-e 
 of the popidace, Calderon parodies an earher and suc- 
 cessful performance of his own." But. in the great 
 majority of cases, the boundaries of no class are re- 
 spected ; and in many of them even more than two 
 forms of the drama melt imperceptibly into each 
 other. Especially in those pieces whose subjects are 
 taken from known history, sacred or profane, or from 
 the recognized fictions of mythology or romance, there 
 is frequently a confusion that seems as though it were 
 intended to set all classification at defiance.'^ 
 
 iStill, in this confusion there was a principle of order, 
 and perhaps even a dramatic theory. For — if we ex- 
 cept '-Luis Perez the Galician," which is a series of 
 sketches to bring; out the character of a notorious rob- 
 ber, and a few show pieces, presented on particular 
 occasions to the cornet with great magnificence — all 
 Calderon's full-length dramas depend for their success 
 
 ^ " La Pui])iira <le la Kosa," and "Lis - " Zelos aim del Ayre iiiataii," whicli 
 
 Fortunas ile Andromeda y P(M-seo," are Calderon jiarodied, is on the same 
 
 both of them plays ill the national taste, sul)ject with his " Cephaliis and Pro- 
 
 and yet were snug throughout. The cris," to which he added, not very 
 
 last is taken from Ovid's iletamor- aj)piopriately, the storj' of Erostra- 
 
 phoses, Lib. IV. and V., and was pro- tus and the burning of the temple of 
 
 <luced before the court with a magniti- Diana. 
 
 cent theatrical ajiparatus. Th<' first, ■' For instance, the *' Annas de la 
 
 •which was written in honor of the mar- Hermosura," on the story of Coriola- 
 
 liage of Louis XIV. witli the Infanta nus ; and the " Mayor Encanto Amor," 
 
 3laria Teresa, IfitfO, was also taken from on the .story of Ulysses. 
 
 Ovid, (Met., Lib. X.) ; and in the Ion Four times, it .should be ob.served, 
 
 that precedes it we are told expres.sly, Calderon varied in his Comedias from 
 
 "The jilay is to be irholly in music, the fuU-leiigtli measure of ihvw Jo nut - 
 
 siinl is intended to /////•w/'/cc this style cUis ; viz. in the " Purpura de la Kosa," 
 
 among us, th it other nations ma)- see where he made the tirst attempt in 
 
 they liave coinnetitors for those distinc- Opera, and the " Ciolfo de la Sirenas," 
 
 tions of whi(-h they boast." Operas in which is a sort of Piscatory Eclogue, 
 
 •Spain, however, never had any pemia- each of tiiem having only one Jornada ; 
 
 iieiit success, thougii tliey had in Por- and in the " Laurel de Apolo," and the 
 
 tugal. But music was often introdueed ".Jardin de Faleiina," which have only 
 
 dnto Sjianish dramas, esjieciully Cul- two. 
 <lerou's.
 
 ciiAP. xxiii.] calderon's secular comedias. 441 
 
 oil the interci^t excited b}' uii involved plot, eonslrueted 
 out of surprising incidents.* He avows this himself, 
 when he declares one of them to be — 
 
 The most surj)iising tale 
 AVliiili, ill tlio dramas of Castile, a wit 
 Acute hath j^et traced out, and on the stage 
 "With tasteful skill produced.^ 
 
 * And again, where he says of another, — * 375 
 
 This is a play of Piulro Caldcrou, 
 Upon whose scene you never fail to find 
 A hidden lover or a lady fair 
 Most cunningly disguised.'' 
 
 But to this principle of making a story which shall 
 sustain an eager interest throughout Calderon litis sjic- 
 rificed almost as much as Lope cle Yega did. The 
 facts of history and geography are not felt for a mo- 
 ment as limits or obstacles. Coriolanus is a general 
 who has served under Romulus ; and Yeturia, his wife,, 
 is one of the ravished 8abines." The Djinube, which 
 must have been almost as well kno^vn to a Madrid 
 audience from the time of Charles the Fifth as the 
 Tagus, is placed between Russia and Sweden.^ Jeru- 
 salem is on the sea-coast.^ Herodotus is made to de- 
 scribe America.^^ 
 
 How absurd all this was Calderon knew as well as 
 anybody. Once, indeed, he makes a jest of it all ; for 
 one of his ancient Roman clowns, who is about to tell 
 a story, begins, — 
 
 A friar, — but that s not right, — there are no friars 
 As yet in Eome.^^ 
 
 * Calderon was famous for what are ** Afeetos de Odio y Amor, Jorn. II. 
 
 called coiqjs clc thedtre ; so famous, that ^ El Mayor Monstruo los Zelos, Jorn. 
 
 lances de Calderon became a sort of III. 
 
 proverb. i° La Virgen del Sagrario, Jorn. L 
 
 6 La noi-eUi ma.'s notable The ])ious bishop who is here rejjre- 
 
 Que en Castellanas comedias, scllted as talking of America, on the 
 
 SutU el ingenio traza authoritv of Herodotus, is at the same 
 
 Y gustoso representa .. • i ^ ,■ • i ._ 
 
 El Alcayde de si Mismo, .Jorn. II. ^ime supjio-sed to live seven or eight 
 
 K ,^ 1 Ti 1 11 T TT centuries before America was discovered- 
 
 ^ 2so liav Burlas con el Amor, .lorn. II. 
 
 7 Armas de la Hermosiua, Jorn. 1., " Un fravle,-nias no .^ bueno,- 
 
 - > '■' I'orfiue aun no ay en Roma fmyles. 
 
 II- Los Dos Amautes del Cielo, .Torn. III.
 
 442 CALDEROX'S SECULAR COMEDIAS. [Pf.fik.d II. 
 
 Xor is "the preservation of national or individual 
 character, except perhaps the Moorish, a matter of 
 any more moment in his eyes. Ulysses and Circe sit 
 down, as if in a saloon at Madrid, and. gathering an 
 academy of cavaliers and ladies about them, discuss 
 questions of metaphysical gallantry. Saint Eugenia 
 does the same thing at Alexandria in the third cen- 
 tury. And Judas Maccaba?us, Herod the Tetrarch of 
 Judaea. Jupangui the Inca of Peru, and Zenobia, are 
 all. in their general air. as much Spaniards of 
 * o76 the time of Philip the Fourth, as if * they had 
 never lived anywhere except at his court.^^ 
 But we rarely miss the interest and charm of a dra- 
 matic story, sustained by a rich and flowing versifica- 
 tion, and by long narrative passages, in which the 
 most ingenioiLs turns of phraseology are employed in 
 order to provoke curiosity and enchain attention. 
 
 No douljt, this is not the dramatic interest to which 
 ■we are most accustomed, and which we most value. 
 But still it is a dramatic interest, and dramatic effects 
 are produced by it. We are not to judge Calderon by 
 the example of Shakespeare, any more than we are to 
 judge Shakespeare by the example of Sophocles. The 
 '■' Arabian Nights " are not the less brilliant because 
 the admirable practical fictions of Miss Edgeworth are 
 so different. The frallant audiences of Madrid still 
 give the full measure of an intelligent admiration to 
 the dramas of Calderon, as their fathers did ; and even 
 the poor Alguacil, who sat as a guard of ceremony 
 on the statre while the "•Niria de Gomez Arias" was 
 acting, was so deluded by the cunning of the scene, 
 that, when a noble Spanish ladv was dracrired forward 
 
 ^ El 3Iayyr Eucanto Amor, Jyiu. II.; El Joseph Je las Mugeres, Jom. III., 
 etc.
 
 C'liAP. XXII I.] AMAR DESPUES DE LA MUEllTE. 443 
 
 to be 8old to the Moors, lie sprang, sword in hand, 
 among the performers to prevent it.^'^ It is in vain to 
 say that dramas which produce such effects are not 
 dramatic. Tlie testimony of two centuries and of a 
 whole nation proves the contrary. 
 
 Admitting, then, that the plays of Calderon are 
 really dramas, and that their basis is to be sought in 
 the structure of their plots, we can examine them in 
 the spirit, at least, in which they Avere originally 
 written. And if, while thus inquiring into their char- 
 acter and merits, we fix our attention on the different 
 degrees in which love, jealousy, and a lofty and sensi- 
 tive honor and loyalty enter into their composition and 
 give life and movement to their respective actions, we 
 shall hardly fail to form a right estimate of what Cal- 
 deron did for the Spanish secular theatre in its highest 
 departments. 
 
 * Under the first head, — that of the passion * 377 
 of love, — one of the most prominent of Cal- 
 deron's plays occurs early in the collection of his 
 works, and is entitled " Love survives Life." It is 
 founded on events that happened in the rebellion of 
 the Moors of Granada which broke out in 1568, and 
 though some passages in it bear traces of the history 
 of Mendoza,^* yet it is mainly taken from the half-fan- 
 ciful, half-serious narrative of Hita, where its chief 
 details are recorded as unquestionable facts. ^'^ The 
 
 I'' Huerta, Teatro Hespanol, Parte IT. i^ The story of Tuzani is found in 
 
 Tom. I., Prologo, p. vii. La Nina de Chapters XXll., XXIIL, and XXIV. 
 
 Gomez Arias, Joni. III. ; — a play for of the second volume of Hita's "Guer- 
 
 ■\vhich Calderon owed much to Luis ras de Granada," and is the best part 
 
 Velez de Guevara. of it. Ilita says he had the account 
 
 1* Compare the eloquent speeches of from Tuzani hims(;lf, long afterwards, 
 
 El Zaguer, in Mendoza, ed. 1776, Lib. at Madrid, and it is not unlikely that 
 
 I. p. 29, and Malec, in Calderon, .lorn. a gi-eat part of it is true. Calderon, 
 
 I. ; or the description of the Alpujarras, though sometimes using its verj'^ word.s, 
 
 in the same Jornada, with tliat of Men- makes considerable alterations in it, to 
 
 doza, p. 43, etc. bring it within the forms of the drama ;
 
 444 AMAR DESPUES DE LA MUERTE. [Period IL 
 
 action occupies about five years, beginning three 
 years before the absolute outbreak of the insurgents, 
 and ending with their final overthrow. 
 
 The first act passes in the city of Granada, and 
 explains the intention of the conspirators to throw off 
 the Spanish yoke, which had become intolerable. Tu- 
 zani, the hero, is quickly brought to the foreground of 
 the piece by his attachment to Clara Malec, whose 
 aged father, dishonored by a blow from a Spaniard, 
 causes the rebellion to break out somewhat prema- 
 turely. Tuzani at once seeks the haughty offender. 
 A duel follows, and is described with great spirit ; but 
 it is interrupted,^^ and the parties separate to renew 
 their quarrel on a bloodier theatre. 
 
 The second act opens three years afterwards, in the 
 
 mountains south of Granada, where the insur- 
 * 378 gents are * strongly posted, and w^here they are 
 
 attacked by Don John of Austria, represented 
 as coming fresh from the great victory at Lepanto, 
 which yet happened, as Calderon and his audience 
 well knew, a year after this rebellion was quelled. 
 The marriage of Tuzani and Clara is hardly celebrated,, 
 when he is hurried away from her by one of the 
 chances of war ; the fortress where the ceremonies had 
 taken place falling suddenly into the hands of the 
 
 but the leading facts are the same in tied, " De Poeseos Dramaticae genera 
 
 both cases, and the story belongs to Hispanico, prtesertim de Petro Calde- 
 
 Hita. rone de la Barca " (Hafnise, 1817, 12mo, 
 
 1^ While they are fighting in a room, pp. 158). Its author, Joannes Ludovi- 
 with locked doors, suddenly there is a cus Heiberg, who was then only twenty- 
 great bustle and calling ■w'ithout. Men- six years old, has since been a distin- 
 doza, the Spaniard, asks his adversaiy : guished Danish poet and dramatist, as 
 
 his father had been before liim. He 
 
 What "s to be done? regards the two great characteristics of 
 
 '^""'- ^^:^i:^'^Z:r'^'^^ Calderon to have been his nationality 
 
 Mendoza. Well said, find his romantic spint, and, under the 
 
 impulse of these attributes, he adds, as 
 
 The spirited opening of many of Cal- his final conclusion: "Drama Calde- 
 
 deron's plays is noticed, as it may be rouicum est Drama Hispanicum gentile 
 
 observed here, in a well-considered Lat- ad summam perfectionem perductum." 
 
 in Essay on his poetical merits, enti- p. 145.
 
 Chap. XXIIl.] AMAR DESPUES DE LA MUERTE. 445 
 
 Spaniards. Clara, who had remahied in it, is mur- 
 dered in the milte by a Spanish soldier for the sake of 
 her rich bridal jewels ; and though Tuzani arrives in 
 season to witness her death, he is too late to intercept 
 or recoi»:nize the murderer. 
 
 From this moment darkness settles on the scene. 
 Tuzani's character changes, or seems to change, in an 
 instant, and his whole Moorish nature is stirred to its 
 deepest foundations. The surface, it is true, remains, 
 for a time, as calm as ever. He disguises himself 
 carefully in Castilian armor, and glides into the en- 
 emy's camp in quest of vengeance, with that fearfully 
 cool resolution which marks, indeed, the predominance 
 of one great passion, but shows that all the others are 
 roused to contribute to its concentrated energy. The 
 ornaments of Clara enable her lover to trace out the 
 murderer. But he makes himself perfectly sure of his 
 proper victim by coolly listening to a minute descrip- 
 tion of Clara's beauty and of the circumstances attend- 
 ing her death ; and when the Spaniard ends by saying, 
 " I pierced her heart," Tuzani springs upon him like a 
 tiger, crying out, " And was the blow like this ? " — 
 and strikes him dead at his feet. The Moor is sur- 
 rounded, and is recognized by the Spaniards as the 
 fiercest of their enemies ; but, even from the very 
 presence of Don John of Austria, he cuts his way 
 through all opposition, and escapes to the mountains. 
 Hita says he afterwards knew him personally. 
 
 The power of this painful tragedy consists in the 
 living impression it gives us of a pure and elevated 
 love, contrasted with the wild elements of the age in 
 which it is placed ; — the whole being idealized by 
 passing through Calderon's excited imagination, 
 but still, in the main, * taken from history * 370
 
 446 
 
 AMAR DESPUES DE LA MUERTE. [Peuioi) II. 
 
 and restino- on known facts. Reo-arded in this Ijo-ht, 
 it is a solemn exhibition of \iolence, disaster, and 
 hopeless rebellion, through whose darkening scenes we 
 are led b}' that burning love which has marked the 
 Arab wherever he has been found, and by that proud 
 sense of honor which did not forsake him as he slowly 
 retired, disheartened and defeated, from the rich em- 
 pire he had so long enjoyed in Western Europe. We 
 are even hurried by the course of the drama into the 
 presence of whatever is most odious in war, and slioidd 
 be revolted, as we are made to witness, wdth our own 
 eyes, its guiltiest horrors ; but in the midst of all, the 
 form of Clara rises, a beautiful vision of womanly love, 
 before Avhose gentleness the tumults of the conflict 
 seem, at least, to l^e hushed ; while, from first to last, 
 in the characters of Don John of Austria, Lo^De de 
 Figueroa, ^' and Garces, on one side, and the venerable 
 Malec and the fiery Tuzani, on the other, we are 
 dazzled by a show of the times that Calderon brings 
 
 '" Tlii.s cliaraotor of Lope de Figueroa 
 may serve as a specimen of the way in 
 which Calderon gave life and interest 
 to many of his dramas. Lojie is an his- 
 torical i)ersonage, and figures largely in 
 the second volume of Hita's " Guer- 
 ras," as well as elsewhere. He was 
 the commander under whom Cervantes 
 served in Italy, and probahly in Portu- 
 gal, when lie was in the Tcrcio de 
 Fldndes, — the Flanders regiment, — 
 one of the best bodies of troops in the 
 armies of Pliilip II. Lo])e de Figueroa 
 appears again, and still more promi- 
 nently, in another good jilay of Calde- 
 ron, "El Alcalde de Zalamea," jiub- 
 lished as early as 16.53, but the last iu 
 the common collection. Its hero is a 
 ]teasant, finely sketched, partly from 
 Lope de Vega's Mendo, in the "Cu- 
 erdo en su Casa " ; and it is said at the 
 einl that it is a true story, whose scene 
 is laiil in L')81, at the very time Philiji 
 IL was advancing toward Lisbon, and 
 when Cervantes was probably with this 
 regiment at Zalamea. 
 
 It should be added, that Calderon, 
 in this ])lay, is much indebted to Lope's 
 "Alcalde de Zalamea," of whicli a copy 
 is to be found at Holland House, but 
 which I have not met with elsewhere. 
 Nor is this a solitary instance of such 
 indebtedness. On the contrary, like 
 most of his contemporaries in the same 
 position, he borrowed freely from his 
 ])iedecessors. Thus, his " Cabellos de 
 Absalon " is much taken from Tirso's 
 " Venganza de Tamar" ; his "Medico 
 de .su Honra " is indebted for its story 
 to a play of Lojjc with the same name, 
 very little known; his "Nina de Go- 
 mez Arias" is partly from a ])lay with 
 the same name by Luis Velez de Gue- 
 vara, and so of others. How far such 
 free borrowing was, under the circum- 
 stances of the case, and the opinion of 
 tlie times, justifiable, we can hardly 
 tell. Stealing it could not have been, 
 for it was too openly done and the au- 
 diences of the court and city understood 
 it all. Schack, Nachtrage, 1854, pp. 
 82-87.
 
 Chav. XXIll.j EL MEDICO DE SU IIOXRA. 447 
 
 before us, and of the passions wiiicli deeply marked the 
 two most romantic nations that were ever brought into 
 a conflict so direct. 
 
 The phiy of "Love survives Life/' so far as its j^lot 
 is concerned, is founded on the passionate love 
 of Tuzani * and Chxra, without any intermixture * 380 
 of the workings of jealousy, or any questions 
 arising, in the course of that love, from an over-excited 
 feeling of honor. This is rare in Calderon, whose 
 dramas are almost always complicated in their intrigue 
 by the addition of one or both of these principles ; 
 giving the story sometimes a tragic and sometimes 
 a happy conclusion. It should be noted, however, to 
 his honor, that throughout the whole play of " Love 
 survives Life " he renders the Moorish character a gen- 
 erous justice, which Avas denied to it by Cervantes and 
 Lope de Vega. 
 
 One of the best-known and most admired of these 
 mixed dramas is " The Physician of his own Honor," 
 printed in 1637, — a play whose scene is laid in the 
 time of Peter the Cruel, but one which seems to have 
 no foundation in known facts, and in which the mon- 
 arch has an elevation given to his character not war- 
 ranted by history .^^ His brother, Henry of Trasta- 
 mara, is represented as having been in love with a 
 lady who, notwithstanding his lofty pretensions, is 
 given in marriage to Don Gutierre de Soils, a Spanish 
 nobleman of high rank and sensitive honor. She is 
 sincerely attached to her husband, and true to him. 
 But the prince is accidentally thrown into her presence. 
 
 ^^ About this time, there was a strong and of which traces may be found in 
 
 disposition shown by the overweening Moreto, and the other dramatists of the 
 
 sensibility of Spanish loyalty to relieve reign of Philip IV. Peter the Cruel 
 
 the memory of Peter the Cruel from tlie a])pears also in tlie"Nina de Plata" 
 
 heavy imputations left resting on it liy of Lope de Vega, but with less strongly 
 
 Pedro de Ayala, of which I have taken marked attributes, 
 notice, (Period I. Chap. IX., note 18,)
 
 448 EL MEDICO DE SU IIOXKA. [Tevaob IL 
 
 His passion is revived ; he visits her ag«T.in, contrary to 
 her will ,• he leaves his dagger, by chance, in her apart- 
 ment ; and, the suspicions of the husband being roused^ 
 she is anxious to avert any further danger, and begins, 
 for this purpose, a letter to her lover, which her hus- 
 band seizes before it is finished. His decision is in- 
 stantly taken. Nothing can be more deep and tender 
 than his love ; l)ut his honor is unaljle to endure the 
 idea, that his wife, even before her marriage, had been 
 interested in another, and that after it she had seen 
 him privately. When, therefore, she awakes from 
 
 the swoon into which she had fallen at the mo- 
 * 381 ment he tore from her * the equivocal beginning 
 
 of her letter, she finds at her side a note con- 
 taining only these fearful words : — 
 
 My love adores thee, but my honor hates ; 
 And while the one must strike, the other warns. 
 Two houi-s hast thou of life. Thy soul is Christ's ; 
 O, save it, for thy life thou canst not save ! ^^ 
 
 At the end of these two fatal hours, Gutierre returns 
 with a surQ-eon, whom he brino-s to the door of the 
 room in which he had left his wife. 
 
 Don Gutierre. Look in upon this room. What seest thou there ? 
 Surgeon. A death-like image, pale and still, I see. 
 
 That rests upon a couch. On either side 
 
 A taper lit, while right before her stands 
 
 The holy crucifix. Who it may be 
 
 I cannot say ; the face mth gauze-like silk 
 
 Is covered quite.'^ 
 
 Gutierre, with the most violent threats, requires him to 
 enter the room and bleed to death the person who has 
 
 19 El amor te adora, el honor tc aborrecc, De la muerte, un bulto tco, 
 
 Y a/si el uno te mata, y el otro te avisa : Que Fobre una cama yaze ; 
 
 Dos honui tienes de viila ; Christiana erefl ; Dos vt-las tiene a los lados 
 
 Salva el alma, que la vicla cs iniposible. Y un Crucifixo delante : 
 
 Jom in. Quien es, no puedo derir, 
 Que con unos tafetancs 
 
 SO Don Gutierrez. Asomate 4 esse aposento ; ^ ^°^^^ ''<^"« cubierto. 
 Que ves en i-l ? LwJ. Una imagen Ibid.
 
 €hap. XXin.] EL MKDICO DE SU IIONRA. 449 
 
 thus laid lierself out for interment. He goes in and 
 accomplishes the will of her husband, without the least 
 resistance on the part of his victim. But when he is 
 conducted away, blindfold as he came, he impresses his 
 bloody hand upon the door of the house, that he may 
 recognize it again, and immediately reveals to the king 
 the horrors of the scene he has just passed through. 
 
 The king rushes to the lioiLse of Gutierre, who as- 
 cribes the death of his wife to accident, not from the 
 least desire to conceal the part he himself had in it, 
 but from an unwillingness to explain his conduct, by 
 confessing reasons for it which involved his honor. 
 The king makes no direct reply, but requires him 
 instantly to marry Leonore, a lady then present, whom 
 Outierre was bound in honor to have married long 
 before, and who had already made known to 
 * the king her complaints of his falsehood. Gu- * 382 
 tierre hesitates, and asks what he should do, if 
 the prince should visit his wife secretly and she should 
 venture afterwards to write to him ; intending by these 
 intimations to inform the king what were the real causes 
 of the bloody sacrifice before him, and that he would 
 not willingly expose himself to their recurrence. But 
 the king is peremptory, and the drama ends with the 
 following extraordinary scene. 
 
 Khuj. There is a remedy for everj' wrong. 
 
 Don Gutierre. A remedy for such a wrong as this ? 
 
 King. Yes, Gutien-e. 
 
 Don Gutierre. ily lord ! wliat is it ? 
 
 King. 'T is of your own invention, sir ! 
 
 Don Gutierre. But what ? 
 
 King. 'T is blood. 
 
 Don Gutierre. What mean your royal words, my lord ? 
 
 King. No more but this ; cleanse straight your doors, — 
 
 A bloody hand is on them. 
 Don Gutierre. My lord, when men 
 
 In any business and its duties deal, 
 VOL. ir. 29
 
 450 EL PIXTOK UE SU DESIIOXRA. [Peiuod II. 
 
 Tlu'V place their ann.s escutcheoned on their doors. 
 
 / deal, my lord, in honor, and so place 
 
 A bloody hand upou-nij- door to mark 
 
 My honor is my blood made good. 
 King. Then give thy hand to Leonore. 
 
 I know her Airtue hath deserved it long. 
 Don Guticrre. I give it, sire. But, mark me, Leonore, 
 
 It comes all bathed in blood. 
 Leonore. I heed it not ; 
 
 And neither fear nor wonder at the sight. 
 Don Guticrre. And mark me, too, that, if already once 
 
 Unto mine honor I have proved a leech, 
 
 I do not mean to lose my skill. 
 Leonore. ^a}-, rather, 
 
 \i my life prove tainted, use that same skill 
 
 To heal it. 
 Don Guticrre. 1 give my hand ; but give it 
 
 On the.se terms alone. -^ 
 
 * 383' * Undoubtedly such a scene could be acted only 
 on the Spanish stage ; but undoubtedly, too, not- 
 withstanding its violation of every principle of Chris- 
 tian moralit}', it is entirely in the national temper, 
 and has been received with applause down to oiu' own 
 times.-" 
 
 "The Painter of his own Dishonor" is another of the 
 dramas founded on love, jealousy, and the point of 
 honor, in which a husband sacrifices his faithless wife 
 and her lover, and yet receives the thanks of each of 
 their fathers, who, in the spirit of Spanish chivahy, not 
 only approve the sacrifice of their own children, but 
 offer their persons to the injured husband to defend 
 
 21 Rey. Para toJo avr.i remedio. Que yo ?»■ que i^u aliihaniM 
 
 D.Gut. Posible fs que i f.sto le aya ? I>a inerec-o. D.Giit. ."'ijladoy. 
 
 Rey. Si,Gutierre Z). Gh/. Qual, .Senor? Mas mira que va banada 
 
 Rey. TJno vuestro. D.Gut. Quees? Kn sanfrro, Ijeonor. 
 
 Rey. Sangrarla. D.Gut. Que dices? Leon. No iinporta, 
 
 Rey. Que liaf^is liorrar Que no me admira. ni espanta. 
 
 Ijas puerta-s de vue.stra ca.«a, D. Gut. Mira que medico he sido 
 
 Que ay mano wmprienta en cllas. De mi honni : no est.'i olvidada 
 
 D.Gut. lyos que de un oficio tratan, Li cienria. Linn. Cura con ella 
 
 Ponen, .*enor, k \;\» puertas Mi vida en estando mala. 
 
 Un esPudo de fus arma/i. D. Gut. Pue-s con e.-^sa condicion 
 
 Trato en honor : y assi, pongo Te la doy. 
 
 Mi mano en sanc're banada Jorn. III. 
 
 A la pnerta, one el honor .» ,i i-i ai ' ]• i u >> /-i 
 
 Con sanpre, ,«enor, se laba. . " ^'^ iMedieo de su Honra, Come- 
 
 Rty. Dadsela, pues, i I/conor, dias, Tom. A I.
 
 CiiAP. XXIIl.] EL MAYOR MONSTRUO LO.S ZELOS. 4'jl 
 
 him against any clangers to which he may be exi)osed 
 in consequence of the murders he has committed.^^ 
 " For a Secret Wrong, Secret Revenge," is yet a third 
 piece, belonging to the same chass, and ending tragi- 
 call}' hke the two others.-^ 
 
 But as a specimen of the effects of mere jealousy, 
 and of the power with which Calderon could bring on 
 the stage its terrible workings, the drama he lias called 
 " No Monster like Jealousy " is to be preferred to any- 
 thing else he has left us."^ It is founded on the well- 
 known stor}', in Josephus, of the cruel jealousy of 
 Herod, Tetrarch of Judaea, who twice gave orders 
 to * have his wife, Mariamne, destroyed, in case * 384 
 he himself should not escajDe alive from the 
 perils to which he was exposed in his successive con- 
 tests with Antony and Octavius ; — all out of dread 
 lest, after his death, she should be possessed by an- 
 other.^^ 
 
 In the early scenes of Calderon's drama, w^e find 
 Herod, wath this passionately cherished wife, alarmed 
 
 •23 " El Piutor (le su Deshonra," Co- 4to, — written, I believe, by a person 
 
 medias, Tom. XI. A tran.slation of named Cavaleri. One reason alleged 
 
 this play into German, with one of the by him in favor of acting it was, that 
 
 " Dicha y Desdicha del Nombre," was two distinguished German gentlemen 
 
 pnblished in Berlin in 1850, in a small were then in the city, who were very 
 
 volume, as a supplement to the trans- anxious to witness the performance of a 
 
 lations of Gries from Calderon. They ])lay of Calderon, and had not been able 
 
 are both made with lightness and taste ; to do so, though they liad been some 
 
 and their author — a lady deceased — time travelling in Spain, and had passed 
 
 pnblished in 1825 translations of the a month in Madrid, — so rarely were 
 
 "Nina de Gomez Arias," and of the any plays of Calderon then represented. 
 "Galan Fantasma." '^s "El Mayor Monstruo los Zelos," 
 
 2* " A Secret© Agravio, Secreta Ven- Comedias, Tom. V. 
 ganza," Comedias, Tom. VI., was print- '^'^ Josephus de Bello Judaico, Lib. I. 
 
 ed in 1637. Calderon, at the end, c. 17-22, and Antiq. Judaicse, Lib. XV. 
 
 vouches for the truth of the .shocking c . 2, etc. A'"oltaire has taken the same 
 
 story, which he represents as founded .story for the subject of his "Mariamne," 
 
 on facts that occurred at Lisbon just l)e- first acted in 1724. There is a ])leasant 
 
 fore the embarkation of Don Sebastian criticism on the 2)lay of Calderon in a 
 
 ibr Africa, in 1578. Some objection pamphlet pul)lislicd at Madrid, by Don 
 
 was made to acting tliis play at C;idiz A. Duraii, witliout his name, in 1828, 
 
 in 1818, on account of its Immorality, ]8mo, entitled, " Sobre el Inilujo que 
 
 but it was defended in a short tract en- ha tenido la Critica Moderna en la Do 
 
 titled "Discurso en Razon de la Tra- cadencia del Teatro Antiguo Espahol, ' 
 
 gedia, A Secreto Agravio," ec, pp. 12, pp. lUt)-112.
 
 452 EL MAYOR MOXSTRUO LOS ZELOS. [Period IL 
 
 by a prediction that he should destroy, with his own 
 dagger, what he most loved in the world, and that 
 Mariamne should be sacrificed to the most formidable 
 of monsters. At the same time we are informed, that 
 the tetrarch, in the excess of his passion for his fair 
 and lovely wife, aspires to nothing less than the mas- 
 tery of the world, — then in dispute between Antony 
 and Octavius Cassar, — and that he covets this empire 
 only to be able to lay it at her feet. To obtain his 
 end, he partly joins his fortunes to those of Antonv, 
 and fails. Octavius, discovering his purpose, summons 
 him to Egypt to render an account of his government. 
 But among the plunder which, after the defeat of 
 Antony, fell into the hands of his rival, is a portrait 
 of Mariamne, with which the Roman becomes so en- 
 amored, though flilsely advised that the original is dead, 
 that, when Herod arrives in Egypt, he finds the picture 
 of his wife multiplied on all sides, and Octavius full of 
 love and despair. 
 
 Herod's jealousj' is now equal to his unmeasured 
 affection ; and, finding that Octavius is about to move 
 towards Jerusalem, he gives himself up to its terrible 
 power. In his blind fear and grief, he sends an old and 
 trusty friend, with written orders to destroy Mariamne 
 in case of his own death, but adds passionately, — 
 
 Let her not know the mandate comes from nxc 
 That bids her die. Let her not — while she cries 
 To Heaven for vengeance — name me as she falls. 
 
 * 385 * His faithful follower would remonstrate, but 
 Herod interrupts him : — 
 
 Be silent. You are right ; — 
 But still I cannot listen to your words ; — 
 
 and then goes off in despair, exclaiming, — 
 
 mighty spheres above ! sun ! moon 
 
 And stars ! clouds, with hail and sharp frost charged !
 
 Chap. XXIII. J EL MAYOR MONSTRUO LOS ZELOS. 453 
 
 Is there 110 iiery thuiiderljolt in store 
 For such a wretch as I ? O mighty Jove ! 
 For what canst thou tliy vengeance still reserve, 
 If now it strike not ? ^^ 
 
 But Mariamne obtains secretly a knowledge of his 
 purpose ; and, when he arrives in the neighborliood 
 of Jerusalem, gracefully and successfully begs his life 
 of Octavius, who is well pleased to do a favor to the 
 fair original of the portrait he had ignorantly loved, 
 and is magnanimous enough not to destro}^ a rival, 
 who had yet by treason forfeited all right to his for- 
 bearance. 
 
 As soon, however, as Mariamne has secured the 
 promise of her husband's safety, she retires with him 
 to the most private part of her palace, and there, in 
 her grieved and outraged love, upbraids him with his 
 design upon her life ; announcing, at the same time, 
 her resolution to shut herself up from that moment, 
 with her women, in widowed solitude and perpetual 
 mourning. But the same night Octavius gains access 
 to her retirement, in order to protect her from the 
 violence of her husband, which he, too, had discovered. 
 She refuses, however, to admit to him that her husband 
 can have any design against her life ; and defends both 
 her lord and herself with heroic love. She then escapes, 
 pursued by Octavius, and at the same instant her hus- 
 band enters. He follows them, and a conflict ensues 
 instantly. The lights are extinguished, and in 
 the confusion Mariamne falls under a blow * from * 386 
 her husband's hand, intended for his rival ; thus 
 fulfilling the prophecy at the opening of the play, that 
 
 r Calla, 
 
 Que s(5, que tienes razon, 
 Pero no puedo escucharla. 
 
 Esferas altas, 
 Cielo, sol, luna y estrellas, 
 
 Nubes, granizo.s, y escarchas, 
 No hay un rayo para un triste ? 
 Pucs .«i aora no los pistas, 
 Para quando, para quando 
 Son, Jupiter, tus venganzas? 
 
 Jorn. II.
 
 454 EL MAYOR MONSTKUO LOS ZELOS. [Pkuiud 1L 
 
 ylie should perish b}' his dagger and ])\' the most for- 
 midable of monsters, which is now interpreted to be 
 Jealousy. 
 
 The result, though foreseen, is artfully brought about 
 at last, and produces a great shock on the spectator, 
 and even on the reader. Indeed, it does not seem as 
 if this fierce and relentless passion could be carried, on 
 the stage, to a more terrible extremity. Othello's 
 jealousy — with which it is most readily compared — 
 is of a lower kind, and appeals to grosser fears. But 
 that of Herod is admitted, from the beginning, to be 
 w^ithout any foundation, except the dread that his wife, 
 after his death, should be possessed hy a rival, whom, 
 before his death, she could never have seen; — a tran- 
 scendental jealousy to which he is j^t willing to sacri- 
 fice her innocent life. 
 
 Still, different as are the two dramas, there are sev- 
 eral points of accidental coincidence between them. 
 Thus, w^e have, in the Spanish play, a night scene, in 
 which her women undress Mariamne, and, wdiile her 
 thoughts are full of forebodings of her fiite, sing to her 
 those lines of Escriva which are among the choice 
 snatches of old poetry found in the earliest of the 
 General Cancioneros : — 
 
 Come, Death, but gently come and still ; — 
 
 All sound of thine approach restrain, 
 Lest joy of thee my heart should fill, 
 
 And tui-n it back to life again ; ^ — 
 
 beautiful wonls, which remind us of the scene imme- 
 diately preceding the death of Desdemona, when she 
 
 28 Yen, muert<?, tan fispondida, again; and Cancioncro General, 1573, 
 Que no te Fienta venir, f jgg l de Vega made a gloss on 
 Pornuo t'l plao«r del monr .. ,^, ',„ v, tt n-t' \ i 
 No ine buelva a dar la vida. it, (Obras, Tom. XIII. p. 236,) and 
 Jom. III. Cervantes repeats it (Don Quixote, 
 Parte II. c. 38) ; — so much was it ad- 
 See, also, Calderon's "Manos Blaneas mired. See, also, llalaspina's "Fuerza 
 no ofenden," Jom. II., where he has it de la Verdad," Jorn. I.
 
 C'jiAi'. XXIII.] EL MAYOR MONISTRUO LOS ZELOS. 
 
 455 
 
 is imdressing and talks with Emilia, singing, at the 
 same time, the old song of "Willow, Willow." 
 
 Again, we are reminded of the defence of Othello by 
 Desdemona down to the instant of her death, in 
 the answer *of Mariamne to Octavius, when he * 387 
 m^ges her to escape with him from the violence 
 of her husband : — 
 
 My lips were dumb, when I beheld thy form ; 
 
 And now I hear thy words, my breatli returns 
 
 Only to tell thee, 't is some traitor foul 
 
 And perjured that has dared to liU thy mind 
 
 With this abhorred conceit. For, Siie, my husband 
 
 Is my husband ; and if he slay me, 
 
 I am guiltless, which, in the flight you urge, 
 
 I could not be. I dwell in safety here, 
 
 And you are ill informed about my griefs ; 
 
 Or, if you are not, and the dagger's point 
 
 Should seek my life, I die not through my fault, 
 
 But through my star's malignant potenc)^, 
 
 Preferring in my heart a guiltless death 
 
 Before a life held up to vulgar scorn. 
 
 If, therefore, you vouchsafe me any grace, 
 
 Let me presume the greatest grace wor;ld be 
 
 That you should straightway leave me.^' 
 
 Other passages might be adduced ; but, though strik- 
 ing, they do not enter into the essential interest of the 
 drama. This consists in the exhibition of the heroic 
 character of Herod, broken down by a cruel jealousy, 
 over which the beautiful innocence of his wife triumphs 
 only at the moment of her death ; while above them 
 both the fatal dagger, like the unrelenting destiny of 
 the ancient Greek tragedy, hangs suspended, seen only 
 
 29 El labio muclo 
 
 QiumIo al veros, y al oiros 
 
 Su alionto le restituyo, 
 
 Aniniada para solo 
 
 I)«firos, que algun perjuro 
 
 Aleve, y traytlor, en tiinto 
 
 'M:ili|iii<t(i (•(inceptn (is puso. 
 
 Mi i-s)i(is(i cs mi e>|K)so ; y quamlo 
 
 Me iii.ite aljiiiii error suyo, 
 
 No mo iiiatarA mi error, 
 
 y lo seri si del huyo 
 
 Yo estoy segura, y vos nial 
 
 Informado en mis disgustos ; 
 
 Y quando no lo estuviera, 
 Matiindome un piinal duro, 
 Mi error no me dieni muerte, 
 Sino mi fatal infinxo ; 
 
 Con que viene .V iniportar nienos 
 Morir inocente, juzgo, 
 Que Tivir culpada u vista 
 De las malieias del vulgo. 
 
 Y assi, si alguna fineza 
 lie de deberos, presume, 
 Que la mayor es bolveros. 
 
 Jorn. m.
 
 45G EL rRi>'CIPE CONSTANTE. [Pkiuud II. 
 
 by the spectators, who witness the unavailing struggles 
 of its victims to escape from a fate in which, with every 
 effort, they become more and mure involved.*^ 
 
 Other dramas of Calderon rely for their success on 
 
 a high sense of loj'alty, with little or no admix- 
 * 388 ture of love * or jealousy. The most prominent 
 
 of these is " The Firm-hearted Prince." ^^ Its 
 plot is founded on the expedition against the Moors in 
 Africa by the Portuguese Infiinte Don Ferdinand, in 
 1437, which ended with the total defeat of the invaders 
 before Tangier, and the captivity of the prince himself, 
 who died in a miserable bondage in 1443; — his very 
 bones resting for many years among the misbelievers, 
 till they were at last brought home to Lisbon and 
 buried with reverence, as those of a saint and martyr. 
 This story Calderon found in the old and beautiful 
 Portuguese chronicles of Joam Alvares and Ruy de 
 Pina; but he makes the sufferings of the prince volun- 
 tary, thus adding to Ferdinand's character the self- 
 devotion of Regulus, and so fitting it to be the subject 
 of a deep tragedy, founded on the honor of a Christian 
 patriot.*^ 
 
 '■^ Mariana announces it at the out- lower, Joam Alvares, first printed in 
 
 set: — 1527, of which an abstract, with long 
 
 Par ley de nuestros haiinx passages from the original, may be found 
 
 A' iviuios a desdichas destinados. in the " Leben des standhaften Prin- 
 
 81 "EI Principe Constante," Comedi- zen," Berlin, 1827, 8vo; — a curious 
 as, Tom. III. It is translated into Ger- and interesting book. To these may 
 man by A. W. Sclilegel, and has been be added, for the illustmtion of the 
 much ailmired as an acting play in the PrincipeConstante, a tract byJ. Schulze, 
 theatres of Herlin, Vienna, Weimar, entitled " Ueber den standhaften Prin- 
 €tc. zen," ]irinted at Weimar, 1811, 12mo, 
 
 82 Colec9a6deT.ivrosIneditosdeHi.st. at a time when Schlegel's translation 
 Port., Lisboa, foho, Tom. I., 1790, j)]). of that drama, brought out under the 
 290-204 ; an excellent work, published auspices of Goethe, was in the midst of 
 by the Portuguese Academy, and editeil its success on the Weimar stage ; the, 
 by tlie learned ( 'oriea da Serra, formerly i)art of Don Ferdinand being acted with 
 Jiinister of Portugal to the IJiuted great i)OWer by Wolf. Schulze is ipiite 
 States. The, .story of Don Ferdinand extravagant in his estimate of the pe- 
 ls al.so told in Maiiaiia, Historia (Tom. etical worth of the Principe Constante, 
 II. p. 345). But the princijjal resource jtlacing it by the .side of the "Divina 
 •of Cnlderon was, no doubt, a life of the Commedia " ; but he discu.sses skilfully 
 Jnfante, by his faithful friend antl fol- its merits as an acting drama, and ex-
 
 (iiAr. XXIII.] EL PRiNCIPE COXSTANTE. 457 
 
 The first scene is one of lyrical beauty, in the gar- 
 dens of the king of Fez, whose daughter is introduced 
 as enamored of Muley Hassan, her father's principal 
 general. Immediately afterwards, Hassan enters and 
 announces the approach of a Christian armament, com- 
 manded by the two Portuguese Infantes. He is de- 
 ^^patched to prevent their landing, but fails, and is 
 himself taken prisoner by Don Ferdinand in person. 
 A long dialogue follows between the captive and his 
 conqueror, entirely formed by an unfortunate am- 
 plification of a beautiful ballad of Gongora, 
 * which is made to explain the attachment of * 389 
 the Moorish general to the king's daughter, and 
 the probability — if he continues in captivity — that 
 she will be compelled to marry the Prince of Morocco. 
 The Portuguese Infante, with chivalrous generosity, 
 gives up his prisoner without ransom, but has hardly 
 done so, before he is attacked by a large army under 
 the Prince of Morocco, and made prisoner himself. 
 
 From this moment begins that trial of Don Ferdi- 
 nand's patience and fortitude which gives its title to 
 the drama. At first, indeed, the king treats him gen- 
 erously, thinking to exchange him for Ceuta, an im- 
 portant fortress recently won by the Portuguese, and 
 their earliest foothold in Africa. But this constitutes 
 the great obstacle. The king of Portugal, who had 
 died of grief on receiving the news of his brother's 
 captivity, had, it is true, left an injunction in his will 
 that Ceuta should be surrendered and the prince ran- 
 somed. But when Henry, one of his brothers, appears 
 on the stage, and announces that he has come to fulfil 
 this solemn command, Ferdinand suddenl}- interrupts 
 
 plains, in part, its historical elements. stante were set to mnsic hy the German 
 The lyrical portions of the Principe Con- genius, Mendelssohn Bartholdy.
 
 458 
 
 EL PRIXCIPE COXSTANTE. 
 
 [PEniOD II. 
 
 liim in the offer, and reveals at once the whole of his 
 character : — 
 
 Cease, Henn', cease ! — no farther slialt thou go ; — 
 
 For words like these should not alone be deemed 
 
 Unworthy of a j)rince of Portugal, — 
 
 A Master of the Order of the Cross, — 
 
 But of the meanest serf that sits beneath 
 
 The throne, or the barbaiian hind whose ej-es 
 
 Have never seen the light of Christian faith. 
 
 No doubt, my brother — who is now with God — 
 
 May in his wiU have placed the words you bring, 
 
 But never with a thought they should be read 
 
 And carried through to absolute fulfilment ; 
 
 But onlj^ to set forth his strong desire. 
 
 That, by all means which peace or war can urge. 
 
 My life should be enfranchised. For when he says, 
 
 " Surrender Ceuta," he but means to say, 
 
 " Work miracles to bring my brother home." 
 
 But that a Catholic and faithful king 
 
 Should yield to Moorish and to heathen hands 
 
 A city hLs own blood had dearly bought, 
 
 When, with no weapon save a shield and sword. 
 
 He raised his country's standard on its walls, — 
 
 It cannot be ! — It cannot be ! ^ 
 
 * 390 * On this resolute decision, for which the old 
 chronicle gives no authority, the remamder of 
 the drama rests ; its deep enthusiasm being set forth 
 in a single word of the Infante, in reply to the renewed 
 question of the Moorish king, "And why not give up 
 
 No prosigfu: ; — ces.«a, 
 
 Cessa, Enrique, porque son 
 
 Palabras indifrnas essas, 
 
 No de un Portujjues InCinte, 
 
 De un Maestre, que profesai 
 
 De Christo la Ileligion, 
 
 Pero aun de un hombre lo fueran 
 
 Vil, de un barbani sin luz 
 
 De la Fe de (Jhristo etema. 
 
 Mi heruiano, que esti en el Cielo, 
 
 Si en su te.sUiuiento dexa 
 
 Essa clausula, no es 
 
 Para que Fe cumpla, y lea, 
 
 Sino para nio.strir solo, 
 
 Que mi libertad desea, 
 
 Y essa se busque por otros 
 
 Me<liop, J' otnis conveniencias, 
 
 O apacibles, » crueles ; 
 
 Ponjuedecir: Dese a Ceuta, 
 
 Es decir : Hastji esjw haced 
 
 Proditriosa.'i diligeiici;u-i ; 
 
 Que un Rey ('at.ilioo, y justo 
 
 Coaio I'uera, como fueru 
 
 Possible entrepir a un Moro 
 Una ciudad que le euesta 
 Su sangre, pues fu(5 el primero 
 Que con sola una rodela, 
 Y una espaila, euarbolo 
 Las Quinas en sus aluiena.s ? 
 
 Jorn. n. 
 
 When we read the Principe Con- 
 stante, we seldom remember that this 
 Don Henry, who is one of its important 
 personages, is the highly culrivated 
 jirince who did so niu(!h to promote 
 discoveries in India. See antt. Vol. I. 
 p. 186. Damian de Goes says that the 
 Prince lived a bachelor in order to de- 
 vote himself to astronomy, — "propter 
 sola astrorum studia ccelebs vi.xit." 
 Fides, Keligio, Moresque iEthiopum, 
 Lovauii, 15 40, 4to, f. 4. It should be
 
 CuAv. XXIII.] EL rRlNCIPE CONSTANTE. 459 
 
 Ceiita ? " to which Ferdinand firmly and simply an- 
 swers, — 
 
 Because it is not mine to give. 
 A Christian city, — it belongs to God. 
 
 In consequence of this final determination, he is re- 
 duced to the condition of a common slave ; and it is 
 not one of the least moving incidents of the drama, 
 that he finds the other Portuguese captives among 
 whom he is sent to work, and who do not recognize 
 him, promising freedom to themselves from the effort 
 they know his noble nature will make on their behalf, 
 when the exchange which they consider so reasonable 
 shall have restored him to his country. 
 
 At this point, however, comes in the operation of the 
 Moorish general's gratitude. He offers Don Ferdinand 
 the means of escape ; but the king, detecting the con- 
 nection between them, binds his general to an honor- 
 able fidelity by making him the prince's only keeper. 
 This leads Don Ferdinand to a new sacrifice of himself. 
 He not only advises his generous friend to preserve his 
 loyalty, but assures him, that, even should foreign 
 means of escape be offered him, he will not take advan- 
 tage of them, if, by doing so, his friend's honor would 
 be endangered. In the mean time, the suffer- 
 ings of the unhappy prince are * increased by * 391 
 cruel treatment and unreasonable labor, till his 
 strength is broken down. Still he does not yield. 
 Ceuta remains in his eyes a consecrated place, over 
 which religion prevents him from exercising the con- 
 trol by which his freedom might be restored. The 
 Moorish general and the king's daughter, on the other 
 
 remembered, however, that this In- accompany them, was the head of the 
 
 fante, Don Henry, sometimes called expedition against Tangier, although 
 
 " the Navigator " from the expeditions his brother Ferdinand was a.ssociated 
 
 he sent to India, though he did not with him in the command.
 
 460 EL PRInXIPE COXSTAXTE. [Period II. 
 
 side, intercede for mercy in vain. The king is inflex- 
 ible, and Don Ferdinand dies, at length, of mortifica- 
 tion, misery, and want ; but with a mind unshaken, 
 and with an heroic constancy that sustains our inter- 
 est in his fite to the last extremity. Just after his 
 death, a Portuguese army, destined to rescue him, 
 arrives. In a night scene of great dramatic effect, he 
 appears at their head, clad in the habiliments of the 
 religious and military order in which he had desired to 
 be buried, and, with a torch in his hand, beckons them 
 on to victory. They obey the supernatural summons, 
 entire success follows, and the marvellous conclusion 
 of the whole, by which his consecrated remains are 
 saved from Moorish contamination, is in full keeping 
 with the romantic pathos and high-wrought enthu- 
 siasm of the scenes that lead to it.
 
 * CHAPTER XXn^ *392 
 
 CALDEROK, CONTINUED. COMKDIAS BE CAPA Y ESPADA. FIRST OF ALL MY 
 
 LADY. FAIRY LADY. THE SCARF AND THE FLOWER, AND OTHERS. 
 
 HIS DISREGARD OF HISTORY. ORIGIN OF THE EXTRAVAGANT IDEAS OF 
 
 HONOR AND DOMESTIC RIGHTS IN THE SP.VNISH DRAMA ATTACKS ON 
 
 CALDERON. HIS ALLUSIONS TO PASSING EVENTS. HIS BRILLIANT STYLE. 
 
 HIS LONG AUTHORITY ON THE STAUf. AND THE CHAR.\CTER OF HIS 
 
 POETICAL .\ND IDE.VLIZED DRAMA. 
 
 AVe miLst now turn to some of Calderon's plays 
 which are more characteristic of his times, if not of 
 his pecuhar genius, — his comedias de eapa jj esjxida. 
 He has left us many of this class, and not a few of 
 them seem to have been the work of his early, but 
 ripe manhood, when his faculties w^ere in all their 
 strength, as well as in all their freshness. Nearly 
 or quite thirty can be enumerated, and still more may 
 be added, if we take into the account those which, 
 with varying characteristics, yet belong to this par- 
 ticular division rather than to any other. Among 
 the more prominent are two, entitled " It is Worse 
 than it was " and " It is Better than it was," which, 
 probably, were translated by Lord Bristol in his lost 
 plays, " Worse and AYorse " and " Better and Bet- 
 ter";^ — "The Pretended Astrologer," which Dry- 
 den used in his " Mock Astrologer " ; ^ — '•' Beware of 
 
 1 "'T is Better than it was" and and "Peor estaqne Estaba." "Elvira, 
 "Worse and Worse." "These two or the Wor.se not always True," also by- 
 comedies," says Downes, (Roscius An- Lord Bristol, printed in 1677, and in 
 glicanus, London, 1789, 8vo, \). 36,) the twelfth volume of Dod.sley's collee- 
 "were made out of Spanish by the tion, is from Calderon's "No Siempre 
 Earl of Bristol." There can be little lo Peor es Cierto." But such in.stances 
 doubt that Calderon was the source are rare in the old English drama, coin- 
 here referred to, and that the plays pared with the French, 
 used were "Mejor esta i^ue Estaba," ^ Drydeu took, as he admits, "An
 
 462 AXTES QUE TODO ES MI DAMA. [Period II. 
 
 * 393 Smooth Wuter " ; — and ••' It is ill * keeping a 
 House with Two Doors"; — which all indicate 
 bv their names something:" of the spirit of the entire 
 class to which they belong, and of which thev are fa- 
 vorable examples. 
 
 Another of the same division of the drama is en- 
 titled '• First of all my Lady." A young cavalier 
 from Granada arrives at Madrid, and immediateh' falls 
 in love with a lady, whose father mistakes him for 
 another person, who, though intended for his daughter, 
 is alread}' enamored elsewhere. Strange confusions 
 are ingeniously multiplied out of this mistake, and 
 strange jealousies naturally follow. The two gentle- 
 men are found in the houses of their respective ladies, 
 — a mortal offence to Spanish dramatic honor, — and 
 things are pushed to the most dangerous and confound- 
 ing extremities. The principle on which so many 
 Spanish dramas turn, that 
 
 A sword-thrust heals more qiiicklj* than a wound 
 Inflicted by a word,^ 
 
 is abundantly exemplified. More than once the lad/s 
 
 Evening's Love, or the Mock Astrolo- I. p. 364). The play is reprinted in 
 
 ger," from the " Feint Astrologue " of Dodsley's collection, Vol. XII. 
 
 Thomas Comeille. (Scott's Dryden, ^ Mas facil sana una herida 
 
 London, 1808, 8vo, Vol. III. p. '229.) Que no una palabra 
 
 Comeille had it from Calderon's "As- And again, m "Amar despues de la 
 
 trologo Fingido." The "Adventures Muerte, — 
 
 of Five Hours " compared with which ^^ sana'^ru'una^rb^. 
 
 Pepys thought Shakespeare s Othello Comedian, 1760, Tom. n. p. 352. 
 
 "a mean thing.'' is substantially, a embodies the national feeling in 
 
 translation Irom the ' Empenos de Seis ^ .^^^^ ^^ ^j^ ^ ^^^ ^-^^^ „f ^^^ 
 
 ?nT li'-r'i't J'TTr^ 1 '■ il^r^l"i« «f Santillana. in the fifteenth 
 
 yill. 16d/ ) attributed to Calderon ; ^ ^^ 0,.- ^om. II. 
 
 but. in fact, first on the list of ]ilays oo" \ v . > o 
 
 declared to Ije none of his by his friend 1'" '"^ ^^^^ ^^ enchilladas 
 
 Vera Ta.s.sis. It is, however, a ])retty y no la* malas palabras. 
 
 good imitation of Calderon's manner. Cure for a knife-thrust art affordg, 
 
 and Pepys was not far out of the way But nothing cures insulting words, 
 
 when.speakingof the version byColonel, In a Spanish chalh-nge. the offended 
 
 afterwards Sir Samuel, Tuke, he said party invited his adversar}' to meet him 
 
 that it wa.s "the best for the variety "Sin mas armas que una espada, para 
 
 and most excellent continuance of the ver si la de vm. corta como su lengua." 
 
 plot to the verv' end, that he ever saw." Varias Fortunas de Don Ant. Hurtado 
 
 ^Memoirs, 1828, Vol. III. p. 11, Vol. de Mendoza, f. 3.
 
 Chap. XXIV.] THE DAMA DUENDE. 463 
 
 secret is protected rather than the friend of the lover, 
 though the friend is in mortal danger at the moment ; 
 
 — the circumstance which gives its name to the drama. 
 At last, the confusion is cleared up hy a simple expla- 
 nation of the original mistakes of all the parties, 
 and a double marriage brings a happy ending to the 
 troubled scene, which frequently seemed quite inca- 
 pable of it."^ 
 
 "The Fairy Lady "^ is another of Calderon's 
 dramas * that is full of life, spirit, and ingenuit}^ * 394 
 Its scene is laid on the day of the baptism of 
 Prince Balthasar, heir-apparent of Philip the Fourth, 
 which, as w^e know, occurred on the 4th of November, 
 1629 ; and the piece itself was, therefore, probably 
 written and acted soon afterwards.^ It was printed 
 in 1635. If we may judge by the number of times 
 Calderon complacently refers to it, we cannot doubt 
 that it was a favorite with him ; and if we judge by 
 its intrinsic merits, we may be sure it was a favorite 
 with the public.^ 
 
 * "Antes que todo e.s mi Dama." pure, and often happily adapted to the 
 
 ^ " La Dama Duende," Comedias, Spanish idiom. 
 
 Tom. III. The DuencU, often called 6 Oy el bautismo celebra 
 
 in Castilian Trasgo, was a spirit of a Del primero Baltasar. 
 
 somewhat more mischievous sort than Jorn. I. 
 
 the proper /a.i/7y, and is described pleas- The Prince Balthasar Carlos, who 
 
 antly by Lope de Vega in the adven- died, I believe, at the age of seventeen, 
 
 tures of his "Peregrino," who is mo- is chiefly known to us by the many 
 
 lested one night by the frolics of some fine portraits Velasquez painted of him. 
 
 of the gay tribe." (Lib. V.) From His birth was matter of great rejoicuig 
 
 Torquemada (Jardin de Flores Curiosas, all over the Spanish dominions, as, 
 
 Discurso IIL) I suppose the Trasgo was during the nine previous years of her 
 
 a sort of Robin Goodfellow. married life, Isabel of France had borne 
 
 A translation of the "Dama Duende" only daughters. I have a tract of 
 
 is the first in a collection entitled Latin, Spanish, and Italian verses, 
 
 "Three Comedies, tran.slated from the written on the occasion by Jacobus Va- 
 
 Spanish," (London, 1807, 8vo,) whicli lerius of Milan, very characteristic of 
 
 has been attributed by Watt, in his the age. My copy ot it was presented 
 
 Bibliotheca, — erroneously, I suppose, ])y the author with an autograph Latin 
 
 — to the third Lord Holland. A-U inscrii)tion to Alfonso Carreras, one of 
 three of the plays are too freely ren- the Koyal Spanish Council in Italy, 
 •dered, and have the further disadvan- "^ I should think lie refers to it eight 
 tage of being done into prose ; Init the times, perlia])s more, in the course of 
 English of the translator is eminently Ids plays : e. g. in ' ' Marianas de Avril
 
 4G4 THE DAMA DUEXDE. [Pkkiod II. 
 
 Dona Angela, the heroine of the intrigue, a widow, 
 young, beautiful, and rich, lives at Madrid, in the house 
 of her two brothers ; but, from circumstances connected 
 with her affairs, her hfe there is so retired, that noth- 
 ing is known of it abroad. Don Manuel, a friend, 
 arrives in the city to visit one of these brothers ; and, 
 as he aj^proaches the house, a lady strictly veiled stops 
 him in the street, and conjures hiin. if he be a cavalier 
 of honor, to jirevent her from being further pursued by 
 a gentleman already close behind.^ This lady is Doiia 
 Angela, and the gentleman is her brother, Don 
 * 395 Luis, who is pursuing her onh^ * because he ob- 
 serves that she carefull}' conceals herself from 
 him. The two cavaliers not being acquainted Avith 
 each other, — for Don Manuel had come to visit the 
 other brother, — a dispute is easily excited, and a duel 
 follows, which is interrupted Ijy the arrival of this 
 other brother, and an explanation of his friendship for 
 Don Manuel. 
 
 Don Manuel is now brought home, and estal^lished 
 in the house of the two cavaliers, with all the courtesy 
 due to a distinguished guest. His apartments, how- 
 ever, are connected with those of Doiia Angela b}^ a 
 secret door, known only to herself and her confidential 
 
 y Mayo" ; "Agradeccr y no Amar" ; rials of D'Ouville to an old "Canevas 
 
 "El Joseph de las Mugeres," etc. I Italien." He plainly took them from 
 
 notice it, because he rarely alludes to Calderon, and if there was anything 
 
 his own works, and never, I think, in on the popular Italian Theatre of the 
 
 the way he does to this one. The Da- same sort, it was, no doubt, from the 
 
 ma Duende is well known in the French same source. These Italians in Paris 
 
 "Repertoire" as the "Esprit Follet" stole veiy freelJ^ 
 
 of Hauteroche. There is, however, an * The wearing of veils by ladies iu 
 
 older "Esprit FoUct," taken from Cal- the streets of Madrid led to so much 
 
 deron, to which, ])robably, Hauteroche trouble, that no less than four laws 
 
 resorted rather than to the Spanish were made to forbid their use; — the 
 
 original. It is by Antoine le Metel, first in 1586, and the last in 1639. But 
 
 Sieur d'Ouville, (Paris, Quinet, 1642, it was all in vain. See a curious trea- 
 
 4to,) and an account of it may be found tise on the subject, " Velos Antiguos y 
 
 in the Parfaits' Hist, du Theatre Fran- Modemos en los Rostros de las Mugeres, 
 
 Vois, (Tom. VI., 174.^, p. 1.59,) but ec, por Antonio <le Leon Pinelo," Ma- 
 
 they are wrong in attributing the mate- drid, 1641, 4to, ti". 137.
 
 Chap. XXIV.] 
 
 THE I)A.>rA DUENDE. 
 
 465 
 
 maid ; und finding she is thns unexpectedly brought 
 near a person who has risked his life to serve her, she 
 determines to put herself into mysterious communica- 
 tion with him. 
 
 But Doila Angela is young and thoughtless. AVhen 
 she enters the stranger's apartment, she is tempted to 
 loe mischievous, and leaves behind marks of her wild 
 humor that are not to be mistaken. The servant of 
 Don Manuel thinks it is an evil spirit, or at best a fairy, 
 — Diiende, — that plays such fantastic tricks ; disturb- 
 ing the private papers of his master, leaving notes on 
 his table, throwing the furniture of the room into con- 
 fusion, and — from an accident — once jostling its oc- 
 cupants in the dark. At last, the master himself is 
 confounded ; and though he once catches a glimpse of 
 the mischievous lady, as she escapes to her own part 
 of the house, he knows not what to make of the appa- 
 rition. He says : — 
 
 She glided like a spirit, and her light 
 Did all fantastic seem. But still her form 
 Was human ; I touched and felt its substance, 
 And she had mortal fears, and, woman-like, 
 Shrunk back again with dainty modesty. 
 At last, like an illusion, all dissolved, 
 And, like a phantasm, melted quite away. 
 If, then, to my conjectures I give rein. 
 By heaven above, 1 neither know nor guess 
 What I must doubt or what 1 may believe.^ 
 
 * But the tricksy lady, who has fairly frolicked * 396 
 herself in love with the handsome young cava- 
 lier, is tempted too far by her brilliant successes, and 
 being at last detected in the presence of her astonished 
 
 9 Como Rombra se mostro ; 
 Fantastica su luz fue. 
 Pero como cosa humana, 
 Se dexo toear y ver ; 
 Como mortal se temio, 
 Rezelo como muger, 
 Como ilusion se deshizo. 
 
 Como fantasma se fue : 
 Si doy la rienda al discurso, 
 No se, vive Dios, no s^, 
 Ni que tengo de dudar, 
 Ni que tengo de creer. 
 
 Jorn. n. 
 
 30
 
 4G6 LA VAXDA Y LA FLOR. [Pkkiod IL 
 
 brothers, the intrigue, which is one of the most comph- 
 cated and gay to be found on any theatre, ends with 
 an explanation of her fairy humors, and her marriage 
 vrith Don ManueL 
 
 •• The Scarf and the Flower," ^^ Avhich, from internal 
 evidence, is to be placed in the year 1632, is another 
 of the happy specimens of Calderon's manner in this 
 class of dramas ; but, unlike the last, love-jealousies 
 constitute the chief complication of its intrigue.-"^^ The 
 scene is laid at the court of the Duke of Florence. 
 Two ladies give the hero of the piece, one a scarf 
 and the other a flower; but they are both so com- 
 pletely veiled when they do it, that he is unable to 
 distinguish one of them from the other. The mis- 
 takes which arise from attributing each of these marks 
 of favor to the wrong lady constitute the first series of 
 troubles and suspicions. These are further aggravated 
 by the conduct of the Grand Duke, who, for his own 
 princely convenience, requires the hero to show 
 marked attentions to a third lady ; so that the rela- 
 tions of the lover are thrown into the greatest possible 
 confusion, until a sudden danger to his life brings out 
 an involuntary expression of the true lady's attach- 
 ment, which is answered with a delight so sincere on 
 his part as to leave no doubt of his affection. This 
 restores the confidence of the parties, and the denoue- 
 ment is of course happy. 
 
 There are in this, as in most of the dramas of Cal- 
 deron belonging to the same class, great freshness and 
 life, and a tone truly Castilian, courtly, and grace- 
 
 i** " La Vanda y la Flor," Comedias, Baltha.sar, as Prince of Asturias, which 
 
 Tom. V. It is admirably translated took i)lace in 1632, and whicli Calde- 
 
 into Gei-man, by A. W. Schlcgel. rou would hardly have introduced on 
 
 ^^ In Jornada I. there is a full-length the stage much later, because the in- 
 
 description of the Jura de Baltasnr, — terest in such a ceremony is so short- 
 
 the act of swearing homage to Prince lived.
 
 Chap. XXIV.] 
 
 LA VANDA Y LA FLOE. 
 
 467 
 
 ful. Lisidii, who loves Henry, the hero, and gave him 
 the flower, finds him w^earing her rival's scarf, and, 
 from this and other circumstances, naturally ac- 
 cuses him of being devoted to that * rival ; — * 397 
 an accusation Avhicli he denies, and explains the 
 delusive appearance on the ground that he approached 
 one lady as the only way to reach the other. The 
 dialogue in which he defends himself is extremely 
 characteristic of the gallant style of the Spanish 
 drama, especially in that ingenious turn and repeti- 
 tion of the same idea in different figures of speech, 
 which becomes more and more condensed, — and so, 
 as Nick Bottom says, grows to a j^oint, — the nearer 
 it approaches its conclusion. 
 
 Lisida. 
 
 Henry. 
 Lisida. 
 
 Henry. 
 Lisida. 
 
 Henry . 
 Lisida,. 
 Henry. 
 
 Lisida. 
 
 Henry. 
 
 Lisida. 
 Henry. 
 Lisida. 
 
 Henry. 
 
 But how can you deny the very thing 
 Which, with my very eyes, I now behold ? 
 By full denial that you see such thing. . 
 "Were you not, like the shadow of her house, 
 Still ever in the street before it ? 
 
 I was. 
 At each returning dawn, were you not found 
 A statue on her terrace ? 
 
 I do confess it. 
 Did you not write to her ? 
 
 I can't deny 
 I wrote. 
 
 Served not the murky cloak of night 
 To hide your stolen loves ? 
 
 That, under cover 
 Of the friendly night, I sometimes sjioke to her, 
 I do confess. 
 
 And is not this her scarf ? 
 It was hers once, I think. 
 
 Then what means this ? 
 If seeing, talking, writing, be not making love, — 
 If wearing on your neck her very scarf. 
 If following her and watching, be not love, — 
 Pray tell me, sir, what 't is you call it ? 
 And let me not in longer doubt be left 
 Of what can be with so much ease explained. 
 A timely illustration will make clear 
 What seems so difficult. The cunning fowler.
 
 468 LA VAXDA Y LA FLOR. [Peeiod II. 
 
 • As tlic l»ird glant'cs by him, watches for 
 
 The feathery fonn he aims at, not where it is, 
 But on one side ; for well he knows that he 
 Shall tail to reach his fleeting mark, unless 
 He cheat the wind to give its helpful tribute 
 To his shot. The careful, hardy sailor, — 
 He who hath laid a j'oke and placed a rein 
 Upon the fierce and furious sea, curbing 
 Its wild and monstrous nature, — even he 
 * 398 * Steers not right onward to the port he seeks, 
 
 But bears awav, deludes the opjiosing waves. 
 And wins the wished-for haven by his skill. 
 The warrior, who a fortress would besiege. 
 First sounds the alarm before a neighbor fort. 
 Deceives, with military art, the place 
 He seeks to win, and takes it unawares, 
 Force yielding up its vantage-ground to ci-aft. 
 The mine that works its central, winding way 
 Volcanic, and, built deep by artifice. 
 Like Mongibello, shows not its effect 
 In those abysses where its pregnant powers 
 Lie hid, concealing all their horrors dark 
 E'en from the fire itself ; but there begins 
 The task which here in ruin ends and woe, — 
 Lightning beneath and thunderbolts above. — 
 Now, if my love, amidst the realms of air, 
 Aim, like the fowler, at its proper (piarry ; 
 Or sail a mariner upon the sea, 
 Tempting a doubtful fortune as it goes ; 
 Or chieftain-like contends in arms. 
 Nor fails to conquer even baseless jealousy ; 
 Or, like a mine sunk in the bosom's depths. 
 Bursts forth above with fury uncontrolled ; — 
 Can it seem strange that / should stQl conceal 
 My many lo\'ing feelings with false shows ? 
 Let, then, this scarf bear witness to tlie truth. 
 That I, a hidden mine, a mariner, 
 A chieftain, fowler, still in fire and water, 
 Earth and air, would hit, w'ould reach, would conquer. 
 And would crush, my game, my port, my fortress, 
 And my foe. \_Gives lier tlie scarf. 
 
 lAsida. You deem, perchance, that, flattered 
 
 By such shallow compliment, my injuries 
 May be forgotten with jour open folly. 
 But no, sir, no ! — you do mistake me quite. 
 I am a woman ; I am proud, — so proud. 
 That I will neither have a love that comes 
 From pique, from fear of being first cast off. 
 Nor from contempt that galls the secret heart.
 
 Chap. XXIY.] 
 
 LA VAXDA Y LA FLOR. 
 
 469 
 
 He who wins iiir. nuist lovo iiu> for inj'sclf, 
 And seek no othcn- guenloii for liis love 
 But wliiit that love itself will give.^- 
 
 *A8 may be gathered, perhaps, from what *399 
 has been said concerning the few dramas we 
 have examined, the plots of Calderon are ahnost 
 always marked with great ingenuity. Extraordinary 
 adventures and unexpected turns of fortune, disguises, 
 duels, and mistakes of all kinds, are put in constant 
 requisition, and keep ujj an eager interest in the con- 
 cerns of the personages whom he brings to the fore- 
 ground of the scene. Yet many of his stories are not 
 wholly invented l)y him. Several are taken from the 
 books of the Old Testament, as is that on the rebellion 
 of Absalom,^^ which ends with an exhibition of the 
 
 Enriq. 
 Lisid. 
 
 Lisifl. 
 
 Enriq. 
 Lisid. 
 Enriq. 
 
 Lisifl. 
 Enriq. 
 
 Enriq. 
 
 Pues conio podeis negarme 
 
 liO misnio que yo estoy viendo ? 
 
 Negantlo que vos lo veis. 
 
 No fui8teis en el pEUSseo 
 
 Sombra de su casa ? Enriq. Si. 
 
 Estatua de su terrero 
 
 No OS halli el Alva? 
 
 Es verdad. 
 
 No la escrivlsteis ? 
 
 No niego, 
 
 Que escrivi. L/.«. No fii6 la noche 
 
 De amantes delitos vuestros 
 
 Capaobscura? Enriq. Que la habl6 
 
 Alguna noche os confiesso. 
 
 No es suya essa vanda ' 
 
 Suya 
 
 Pienso que fut'^ 
 
 Pues que es esto ? 
 
 Si ver, si liablar, si oscrivir, 
 
 Si traer su vanda al cuello, 
 
 Si seguir, si desvelar, 
 
 No es amar, yo, Enrique, os ruego 
 
 Me digais como so llama, 
 
 Y no ignore yo mas tii^mpo 
 Una rii«i qui' c-i tan fiicil. 
 Kcsiirpri.li(i< mi MVgumcnto : 
 
 El.-L^tlltu r.-lziMlnr, 
 
 Que en 1(1 r.iplU) del buelo 
 Hiee a uu atomo de pluma 
 Blanco veioz del acierto, 
 No adonde la ca^ia esti 
 Pone la niira, advirtiendo, 
 Que para que el viento peclie, 
 Le importa engaiiar el viento. 
 El marinero ingenioso, 
 Que al mar tlesbooado y fiero, 
 Monstruo de naturaleiia, 
 Hallo yugo, y puso freno. 
 No al puerto que solicita 
 Pone la proa, que hariendo 
 Puntas al agua, desmiente 
 Sus iras, y tonia puerto 
 El capitan que esta fuorza 
 Intenta ganar, primero 
 En aquella toca al arma, 
 
 Y con marcialcs estruendos 
 
 Engana li la tierra, que 
 Mai prevenida del riesgo 
 La esper.iba ; assi la fuerza 
 Le da a partido al ingenio. 
 La mina, que en las eutranas 
 De la tierra esfcreno el centre, 
 Artificioso volcan, 
 Inveutado Mongibelo, 
 No donde prenado oculta 
 Abismos de horror inmensos 
 Hace el efecto, porque, 
 Engaiiando al misnio fuego, 
 Aqui concibe, alii aborta ; 
 Alii es rayo, y aqui trueno. 
 Pues si es cazador ml amor 
 En las campanas del viento ; 
 Si en el mar de sus fortunas 
 Inconstante marinero ; 
 Si es caudillo victorioso 
 En las guerras de sus zelos : 
 Si fuego nial resistido 
 En mina de tantos pechos. 
 Que mucho engafiasse en mi 
 Tantos amantes afoctos ? 
 Sea esta vanda testigo ; 
 Porque, volcan, marinero, 
 Capitan, y cazador ; 
 En fuego, agua, tierra, y viento ; 
 Logre, tenga, alcanze, y tome 
 Kuina, caza, triunfo, y puerto. 
 
 [Dnie la vanda. 
 Lisid. Bien pensareis que mis quexas, 
 Mai lisoiijeada.s con esso, 
 Os remitan de mi agravio 
 Ljus sinrazones del vuestro. 
 No, Enrique, yo soy niuger 
 Tan sobervia, que no quiero 
 Ser querida por venganza, 
 Por tenia, ni por desprecio. 
 El que a mi me ha de querer, 
 Por mi ha de ser ; no teniendo 
 Convenieiicias en quererme 
 Mas que quererme. 
 
 Jorn. II. 
 
 ^^ This is a drama, in many parts, of
 
 470 CALDEROX'S PLOTS. [Pkiuod II. 
 
 unliapiDV prince hanging 1)y lii.s hair and tlying amid.st 
 reproaches on his personal beautj". A few are from 
 Greek and Roman history, hke •' The Second Scipio " 
 and *• Contests of Love and Lovaltv," — the hist beinc 
 on the stor}' of Alexander the Great. Still more are 
 from Ovid's "Metamorphoses,"^* like "Apollo 
 ^ 400 and Climene " and - The * Fortunes of Androm- 
 eda." And occasionalh', but rareh', he seems 
 to have sought, with painstaking care, in obscure 
 sources for his materials, as in " Zenobia the Great," 
 where he has used Trebellius Pollio and Flavius Yo- 
 piscus.^^ 
 
 But, as we have already noticed, Calderon makes 
 everything bend to -his ideas of dramatic effect; so 
 that what he has borrowed from history comes forth 
 upon the stage with the brilliant attributes of a 
 masque, almost as much as what is drawn from the 
 rich resources of his own imagination. If the subject 
 he has chosen falls naturallv into the only forms he 
 recognizes, he indeed takes the focts much as he finds 
 
 great brilliancy and power, but one in or, at least, singularly indicated it. 
 
 Avhich C"aldei-on owed too much to Tirso. He took the stoiy of the Sultan Saladin 
 
 1* I think there are six, at least, of from tlie "Conde Lucanor" of Don 
 
 Calderou's plays taken from the Meta- John Manuel, (cap. 6,) and called the 
 
 morjihoses ; a circumstance worth not- play he founded on it "El Conde Lu- 
 
 ing, because it shows the direction of canor," making a Count Lucanor its 
 
 his ta.ste. He seems to have used no hero, though, of course, not the Count 
 
 ancient author, and perhaps no author who gives its title to the original. The 
 
 at all, in his plays, so much as Ovid, play of Calderon has beautiful passages, 
 
 who was a favorite classic in Spain, six One with the same title, and ]irinted as 
 
 translations of the Metamoi-jdioses hav- his, a])pears in Vol. XV. of the Come- 
 
 ing Ix'en made there before the time of dia.s Escogidas, 1661 ; but he jirotests 
 
 Calderon. Don Qui.xote, ed. Clemen- against the outrage in the Preface to 
 
 cin, Tom. IV., 1835, p. 407. tlie Fourth Part of his Plays, which 
 
 • ^* It is possible Calderon may not was published at Sladrid in 1672, and 
 
 have gone to the originals, but found in which he required the friend who 
 
 his materials nearer at hand ; and yet, published it to insert the true "Conde 
 
 on a comparison of the triumj)hal entrj' Lucanor," that justice might be done 
 
 of Aurelian into Rome, in the third him by a comparison of it A\ith the 
 
 jornudUi, with the conesjionding passa- false one. Of this rare Fourth Part, I 
 
 ges iu Trebellius, " De Triginta Tyrau- found a copy in St. Mark's Library, 
 
 nis" (c. xxix.) and VopLscu.s, "Aureli- Venice, which had belonged to Ajiosto- 
 
 anus" (c. xx.xiii., xxxiv., etc.), it seems lo Zeno, who was familiar with the old 
 
 most likely that he had read them. Spanish dramatists, and borrowed from 
 
 Once he went to a sijigular source, them.
 
 Chap. XXIV.] CALDERON's PLOTS. 471 
 
 them. This is the case with " The Siege of Breda," 
 Avhich he has set forth Avith an approach to statistical 
 accuracy, as it happened in 1624- 1G25 ; — all in honor 
 of the commanding general, Spinola, who may well 
 liave furnished some of the curious details of the 
 piece,^*^ and who, no doubt, witnessed its representa- 
 tion. This is the case, too, wdth " The Last Duel in 
 Spain," founded on the last single combat held 
 there under royal * authority, which was fought * 401 
 at Valladolid, in the presence of Charles the 
 Fifth, in 1522 ; and which, by its showy ceremonies 
 and chivalrous spirit, was admirably adapted to Cal- 
 deron's purposes.^" 
 
 But where the subject he selected was not thus 
 fully fitted, by its own incidents, to his theory of the 
 drama, he accommodated it to his end as freely as if 
 it were of imagination all compact. " The Weapons of 
 Beaut}'" and "Love the Most Powerful of Enchant- 
 ments" are abundant proofs of this;^^ and so is "Hate 
 and Love," where he has altered the fects in the life 
 
 i"* For instance, the exact enumera- I ought, perhajis, to add, that above 
 
 tion of the troops at tlie opening of the a century Liter — in 1641 — the Duke 
 
 ])lay. Couiedias, Tom. III. pp. 142, of Medina Sidonia, on behalf of Philip 
 
 149. The Protestants in this play are IV., challenged the Duke of Braganza,. 
 
 treated with a dignity and considera- then king of Portugal, to a trial by duel 
 
 tion very rare in Spanish poetry, and of his rights to the crown he had just 
 
 very honorable to Calderon. Velasquez, won back from Spain; and — what is 
 
 who had travelled to Italy with the more — this challenge was defended by 
 
 Mar([uis of Spinola, painted one of his ecclesiastical authority in a tract of 
 
 grandest })ictures on tlie same subject great learning and some acuteues.s, en- 
 
 with this play of Calderon (Stirling's titled " Justifieacion moral en el Fuero 
 
 Artists, Vol. II. p. 634) ; — Head (Hand- de la Conciencia de la particular Batalla 
 
 ]>ook, p. 1.52) reckons it the very best of (jue el Excmo. Du(jue de Medina Sido- 
 
 his historical pictures. nia ofrecio al (pie fue de Bragam^a, por 
 
 " It ends with a voluntary anachro- el Padre M. Thomas Hnrtado." (An- 
 
 nisra, — the resolution of the Emperor teipiera, 1641, 4to.) The duel was, of 
 
 to aj)ply to Pope Paul III. and to have course, declined by the king of Por- 
 
 such duels abolished by the Connt.'il tugal. 
 
 of Trent. By its very last words, it ^^ " Las Annas de la Hermosura," 
 
 shows that it was acted before the king, Tom. I., and "El ilayor Encanto 
 
 a fact that does not appear on its title- Amor," Tom. V., arc the plays on Cori- 
 
 page. The duel is the one Sandoval olanus and Ulysses. Tliey have been, 
 
 describes with so much minuteness, mentioned before. 
 Hist, de Carlos V., Anver.s, 1681, folio, 
 Lib. XI. §§ 8, 9.
 
 472 CALDEKOn's plots. [Period II. 
 
 of Christina of Sweden, hi.s whini.sical contemporaiy, 
 till it is not easy to recognize her, — a remark which 
 may be extended to the character of Peter of Aragon 
 in his "Tres Justicias en Uno," and to the personages 
 in Portugnese history whom he has so strikingly ideal- 
 ized in his '• Weal and Woe," ^'^ and in his •• Firm- 
 Hearted Prince." To an English reader, however, the 
 " Cisma de Inglaterra," on the fortunes and fate of 
 Anne Boleyn and Cardinal Wolsey, is probably the 
 most obvious perversion of history ; for the Cardinal, 
 after his fall from power, comes on the stage begging 
 his bread of Catherine of Aragon, while, at the same 
 time, Henry, repenting of the religious schism he has 
 coimtenanced, promises to marry his daughter Mary to 
 
 Philip the Second of Spain. ^^ 
 * 402 * Nor is Calderon more careful in matters of 
 
 morals than in matters of fact. Duels and homi- 
 cides occur constantly in his plays, under the slightest 
 pretences, as if there were no question about their pro- 
 priety. The authority of a father or brother to put to 
 death a daughter or sister who has been guilty of 
 secreting her lover under her own roof is fully recog- 
 nized."'' It is made a ground of glory for the king, Don 
 Pedro, that he justified Gutierre in the atrocious mur- 
 der of his wife ; and even the lady Leonore, who is to 
 succeed to the blood-stained bed, desires, as we have 
 .seen, that no other measure of justice should be ajDplied 
 
 1^ Good, but somewhat over-rpfiiicil, far as Calderon's merit is concerned, 
 
 remarks on tlie use Calderon made of Nothing will show the wide difference 
 
 Portuguese history in his "Weal and between Shakespeare and Calderon more 
 
 Woe " are to be found rn the Preface to strikingly, than a comparison of this 
 
 the second volume of Malsljurg's Ger- play with the grand historical drama 
 
 man translation of Calderon, Leipzig, of " Henry the Eighth." 
 1819, 12mo. -1 Of these duels, and his notions 
 
 '■" Comedias, 1760, Tom. IV. See, about female honor, half the ])lays of 
 
 also, Ueber die Kirchentrennung von Calderon may be taken as specimens, 
 
 England, von F. W. V. Schmidt, Ber- but it is oiily necessary to refer to 
 
 lin, 1819, 12mo; — a pamphlet full of "Casa con Dos Puertas" and "EI Es- 
 
 cunous mattei', but too laudatory, so coudido y la Tapada."
 
 CiiAi'. XXIV.] DOMESTIC HONOR. 473 
 
 to herself than had been applied to the innocent and 
 beautiful victim who lay dead before lier. Indeed, it 
 is impossible to read far in Calderon without perceiving 
 that his object is mainly to excite a high and feverish 
 interest by his plot and story ; and that to do this he 
 relies too constantly' upon an exaggerated sense of 
 honor, which, in its more refined attributes, certainly 
 did not give its tone to the courts of Philip the Fourth 
 and Charles the Second, and which, with the wide claims 
 he makes for it, could never have been the rule of con- 
 duct and intercourse anywhere, without shaking all the 
 foundations of society and poisoning the best and dear- 
 est relations of life. 
 
 Here, therefore, we find pressed upon us the ques- 
 tion. What w^as the ori":in of these extravatjant ideas 
 of domestic honor and domestic rights, which are found 
 in the old Spanish drama from the beginning of the 
 full-length plays in Torres Naharro, and which are thus 
 exhibited in all their excess in the play^ of Calderon ? 
 
 The question is certainly difficult to answer, as are 
 all like it that depend on the origin and traditions of 
 national character ; but — setting aside as quite ground- 
 less the suggestion generally made, that the old Span- 
 ish ideas of domestic authority might be derived from 
 the Arabs — we find that the ancient Gothic laws, which 
 date back to a period long before the Moorish 
 invasion, and which fully * represented the * 403 
 national character till they were supplanted by 
 the "Partidas" in the fourteenth centurj', recognized 
 the same fearfully cruel system that is found in the old 
 drama. Everything relating to domestic honor was 
 left by these laws, as it is by Calderon, to domestic 
 authority. The father had power to put to death his 
 wife or daughter who was dishonored under his roof;
 
 474 DItAMATIC DUELS. [Period II. 
 
 and if the father were dead, the same terrible power 
 was transferred to the brother in rehition to his sister, 
 or even to the lover, where the offending party had 
 been betrothed to him. 
 
 No doubt, these wild laws, though foi'mallj renewed 
 and re-enacted as late as the reign of Saint Ferdinand, 
 had ceased in the time of Calderon to have any force ; 
 and the infliction of death under circumstances in which 
 they fully justified it would then have been murder in 
 Spain, as it would have been in any other civilized 
 countrj' of Christendom. But, on the otlier hand, no 
 doubt these laws were in operation during many more 
 centuries than had elapsed l)etween their abrogation 
 and the age of Calderon and Philip the Fourth. The 
 tradition of their power, therefore, was not yet lost on 
 the popular character, and poetry was permitted to 
 preserve their fearful principles long after their enact- 
 ments had ceased to be acknowledged anywhere else."^ 
 
 Similar remarks may be made concerning duels. 
 That duels were of constant recurrence in Spain in 
 the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, as well as ear- 
 lier, we have abundant proof But we know, too, that 
 the last which was countenanced by royal authority 
 occurred in the youth of Charles the Fifth ; and there 
 is no reason to suppose that private encounters, except 
 street brawls, were mucli more common among the 
 cavaliers at Madrid in the time of Lope de Yega 
 than they were at London and Paris."'^ But the tra- 
 
 '■^ Fuero Juzj^o, cd. ili- la Acadeiiiia, Fonlinaiul after the conquest of Cordova 
 
 Madrid, ISl',, folio, I.il). ill. Tit. IV. in 1241. 
 
 Leycs 3-5 and !). It should be le- ^* Howell, in 1(323, when he had been 
 
 meinbered, that these laws were the old a year in Madrid, under eircuinstance.s 
 
 Gothio laws of Spain before A. D. 700 ; to give him familiar knowledge of its 
 
 that they were the laws of the Chris- gay .society, and at a time wlien the 
 
 tians who did not fall under the Arabic drama of Lope was at the height of its 
 
 authority; and that thi-y i<i'<' published favor, says, "One shall not hear of a 
 
 in the fdilicjM of tlic Ai:ademy as they duel here in an age." Letters, eleventh 
 
 were consolidated and re-enacted by St. edition, London, 1754, 8vo, Book 1.
 
 C'hai". XXIV.] ATTA(JKS ON CALDEKOX. 475 
 
 ■ditions tliut hud come down from * the thnes * 404 
 when they prevailed were quite sufficient war- 
 rant for a drama, which sought to excite a strong and 
 anxious interest more than anything else. In one of 
 the plays of Barrios there are eight, and in another 
 twelve duels ; "^ an exhibition that, on any other sup- 
 position, would have been absurd. 
 
 Perhaps the very extravagance of such representa- 
 tions made them comparatively harmless. It was, in 
 the days of the Austrian dynasty, so incredible that a 
 brother should put his sister to death merely because 
 she had been found under his roof with her lover, or 
 that one cavalier should fight another in the -street 
 simply because a lady did not wish to be followed, that 
 there was no o-reat danger of contagion from the the- 
 atrical example. Still, the immoral tendency of the 
 Spanish drama was not overlooked, even at the time 
 when Calderon's fame was at the highest. Manuel de 
 Guerra y Ribera, one of his great admirers, in an Apro- 
 hacion prefixed to Calderon's plays in 1683, praised, not 
 only his friend, but the great body of the dramas to 
 whose brilliancy that friend had so much contributed ; 
 and the war against the theatre broke out in conse- 
 quence, as it had twice in the time of Lope. Four 
 anonymous attacks were made on the injudicious 
 remarks of Guerra, and two more by persons who 
 gave their names, — Puente de Mendoza and Navarro ; 
 — the last, oddly enough, replying in print to a de- 
 fence of himself by Guerra, which had then been seen 
 
 Sect. 3, Letter 32. Figueroa (Placa Madrid es Corte, por Alonso Nufie^r de 
 
 Universal, 1615, f. 270) says the same Castro," 1658, where it is said they 
 
 thing, speaking of the duel: "Pues are "not less common than rocks in 
 
 casi en ninguna provincia o ciudad es the Mediterranean and storms on the 
 
 admitido, iii tiene lugar." A genera- ocean." f. 100, b. Street brawls, 
 
 tion later, however, duels wore more 24 jj^ t<p] p^iifo ,Iunto al Encanto," 
 
 frequent, judging by the discussion of and in " I'edir Favur. " 
 the laws of "the Duello" in "Solo
 
 476 CALDERON's flattery of the CREAT. [Pkuiod II. 
 
 only in nianiiseript. But the whole of this (liscu.s.sion 
 proceeded on the authority of the Church and the 
 Fathers, rather than upon the grounds of i)ublic moral- 
 ity and social order; and therefore it ended, as pre- 
 vious attacks of the same kind had done, h}- the 
 * 405 triumph of the theatre ; ^'' — * Calderon's plays 
 and those of his school lieing performed and 
 admired quite as much after it as before. 
 
 Calderon. however, not only relied on the interest 
 he could thus excite by an extravagant story full of 
 domestic violence and duels, but often introduced flat- 
 tering allusions to living persons and passing events, 
 whiclr he thought would be welcome to his audience, 
 whether of the court or the city. Thus, in " The Scarf 
 and the Flower," the hero, just returned from Madrid,, 
 gives his master, the Duke of Florence, a glowing de- 
 scription, extending through above two hundred lines, 
 of the ceremony of swearing fealty, in 1632, to Prince 
 Balthasar, as Prince of Asturias ; a passage which, from 
 its spirit, as well as its compliments to the king and the 
 royal ftimily, must have produced no small effect on 
 the stage.^*' Again, in " El Escondido y la Tapada," we 
 
 ^ Things hail not been in an easy por Gonzalo NavaiTO," Madrid, 1684, 
 
 state, at any time, since the troubles 4to, whieli is a reply to the last and to 
 
 already noticed (Chap. XXI.) in the other works of the same kind. Indeed, 
 
 reigns of Philip II. and Philip III., as the number of tracts published on this 
 
 ■\ve may see from the Approl^ation of occasion was very large. A real at- 
 
 Thomas de Avellaneda to Tom. XXII., tempt was made to put down the the- 
 
 1665, of the Comedias Escogidius, where atre, relying, perhaps, on the weakness 
 
 that pensonage, a grave and distin- of Charles II., and it was near to being 
 
 guished ecclesiastic, thought it needful successful. 
 
 to step aside from his proper object, ^ The de.scription of Philip IV. on 
 
 and defend the theatre against attacks, horseback, as he pa.s.sed through the 
 
 which were evidently then common, streets of Madrid, suggests a compari- 
 
 tliough they have not reached us. But son with Shakespeare's Bolingbroke in 
 
 the quarrel of 1682-1685, which was the streets of London, but it is wholly 
 
 a violent and o]ien ni]>ture, can be best against the Spani.sh poet. (Jorn. 1.) 
 
 found in the " Apelacion al Tribunal de That Calderon meant to he accurate in 
 
 los Docto.s," Madrid, 1752, 4to, (which the descriptions contained in this play 
 
 is, in fact, Guerra's defence of himself can be seen by reading the oflicial ac- 
 
 written in 1683, but not before jiub- count of tlie ".Turamento del Principe 
 
 lished,) and in " Discursos contra los Balta.sar," 1632, prepared by Antonio 
 
 «|Ue defienden el Uso de las Comedias, Hurtado de ilcndoza, of which the sec-
 
 CuAr. XXIV. J C'ALDEUON's FLATTERY OF THE GREAT. 477 
 
 have a stimii''- intimation ol" the sieo-e of ^ akuu-ia on 
 the Po, in 1635;^^ and in "Nothing hke Silence," re- 
 peated alhisions to the victoiy over the Piinee oi" 
 Conde at Fontarabia, in 1639.^^ In "Beware of Smooth 
 "Water," there is a dazzhng acconnt of the pnbhc recep- 
 tion of the second wife of Phihp the Fourth at 
 Madrid, in 1649, for a part of * whose pageant, * 406 
 it will be recollected, Calderon was employed 
 to furnish inscriptions.^^ In " The Blood-Stain of the 
 Rose " — founded on the fjible of Venns and Adonis, 
 and written in honor of the Peace of the Pyrenees and 
 the marriage of the Infjinta with Louis the Fourteenth, 
 in 1660 — we have whatever was thought j)roper to 
 be said on such subjects by a favorite poet, both in the 
 loa, which is fortunately preserved, and in the play it- 
 self.^^ But there is no need of multiplying examples. 
 
 Olid edition was printed by order of tlie 
 government, in its printing-office, 166r>, 
 4to ; or perhaps better, in a similar but 
 less formal account of the same cere- 
 111011}' bv Juan Gomez de Mora, 1632, 
 4to. 
 
 ^ It is genuine Spanish. The hero 
 .says : — 
 
 En Italia estaba, 
 Quaudo la loca arogancia 
 Del Frances, sobre Valencia 
 Del Po, ec. 
 
 Jom. I. 
 
 ^ He makes the victory more impor- 
 tant than it really was, but liis allu- 
 sions to it show that it was not tliought 
 worth while to irritate the French in- 
 terest ; so cautious and courtly is Cal- 
 deron's whole tone. It is in Tom. X. 
 of the Comedias. 
 
 2^ The acconnt, in " Guardate de la 
 Agua Mansa," of the triumphal arch, 
 for which Calderon furnished the alle- 
 gorical ideas and figures, as well as the 
 inscriptions, (both Latin and Castilian, 
 the play says,) is very ample. (Jor- 
 nada III.) To celebrate this marriage 
 of Philip IV. with Marianna of Au.stria, 
 a strange book of above a hundred pages 
 of eujihuistical flattery, by the pedantic 
 scholar Joseph Pellicer de Tovar, was 
 printed in 1650, and entitled "Alma 
 
 de la Gloria de Espana, ec, P^pitalamio 
 I). O. C. al Rey Nuestro Senor " ; — the 
 only epithalamium 1 ever heard of fill- 
 ing a volume, and all in prose. For 
 the marriage itself, the entrance into 
 Madrid, etc., see Florez, Reynas Ca- 
 tolicas, Tom. II., 2d ed. 1770, pp. 953, 
 sqq. 
 
 ^" Here, again, we have the courtly 
 spirit in Calderon. He insists most 
 carefully, that the Peace of the Pyi-e- 
 nees and the marriage of the Infanta 
 are not connected with each other ; and 
 that the marriage is to be regarded ' ' a.s 
 a separate aff'air, treated at the same 
 time, but quite indejiendently." But 
 his audience knew better. Indeed, the 
 very suggestion of the peace and the 
 match as a joint arrangement to settle 
 everything between the two countries 
 came from Philip IV. Mad. de Motte- 
 ville, Jlemoires d'Anne d'Autriche, 
 1750, Tom. V. pp. 29.5, 296, 301, 418. 
 
 From the "Viage del Rey Nuestro 
 Senor D. Felipe IV. el Grande a la 
 Froiitera de Francia, por Leonardo del 
 Castillo," Madrid, 1667, 4to, — a work 
 of official pretensions, describing the 
 ceremonies attending both the marriage 
 of the Infanta and the conclusion of the 
 peace, — it appears that, wherever Cal-
 
 478 
 
 CALDEROX 8 STYLE. 
 
 [Period II. 
 
 Calderon nowhere fails to consult the fashionable and 
 courtly, as -well as the truly national, feeling of his 
 time ; and in •• The Second Scipio " he stoops even to 
 gross flattery of the poor and hnbecile Charles the 
 Second, declaring him equal to that great patriot 
 whom Milton pronounces to have been '' the height of 
 
 Rome." 31 
 *40T *ln style and versification, Calderon has high 
 
 merits, though the}' are occasionally mingled 
 with the defects of his age. Brilliancv is one of his 
 great objects, and he easily attains it. But. especially 
 in his earlier dramas, he falls, and with apparent will- 
 ingness, into the showy follv of his time, the absurd 
 
 deron lias alluded to either, he has been 
 true to the facts of histoiy. A similar 
 remark may be made of the " Tetis y 
 Peleo," evideiitlj' written for the same 
 occasion, and printed, Comedias Escogi- 
 das, Tom. XXIX., 1(J68 ; — a poor dra- 
 ma by an obscure author, Josef de Bo- 
 lea, and probabh' one of the several 
 that we know, from Castillo, were rep- 
 resented to amuse the king and court 
 on their journey. A strange conse- 
 quence of the Peace of the Pyrenees 
 and the marriage of Louis XIV. with 
 the Infanta is .said, in a contemporary 
 account, to have followed the next 
 year ; — I mean the canonization of 
 that noble-hearted Spaniard, Tomas de 
 Villanueva, who was selected for that 
 honor by Alexander VI. becau.se he was 
 " a -saint fitted to be a mediator to in- 
 tercede with God for the peace of these 
 two nnghty crowns." See " Eelacion 
 de las Fiestas ijue el real Convento de 
 San Augustin de la Ciudad de Cor- 
 doba a celebrado a la Canonicjacion de 
 Sto. Tomas de Villanueva," 4to, s. a. 
 p. 2. 
 
 31 This flattery of Charles II. is the 
 more disagreeable, because it wa.s oti'ered 
 in the poet's old age ; for Charles did 
 not come to the throne till Calderon 
 was .seventy-five years old. But it is, 
 after all, not so shocking as the sort of 
 bla.sphemous compliments to Philip IV. 
 and his queen in the strange mi/o called 
 "El Buen Retiro," acted on the first 
 Corpus Chiisti day after that luxurious 
 
 palace was finished, contrasting, too, 
 as it does, with the becoming account 
 of the burning of the old Buen Retiro 
 in 1641, which is found in the "Manos 
 Blaiicas no Ofenden." 
 
 One of the most marked instances of 
 an adroit solicitation of popular ap- 
 ]ilause on the Spanish stage is in the 
 " ilonstruo de la Fortuna," written 
 jointly by Calderon, ilontalvau, and 
 Roxas. it is on the story of Felipa 
 Catanea, the wa.sherwoman, who rose 
 to great political authority, for a time, 
 at Naples, in the early part of the four- 
 teenth century, and was then put to 
 death, with all her family, in the nio.st 
 cruel and .savage manner. The play in 
 question is taken from a sort of ro- 
 mance made out of her historj' and 
 fate b}' Pierre Mattliieu, which was 
 jirinted in French in 1618, and trans- 
 lated by Juan Pablo Martyr Rizo into 
 Spanish, in 1625 ; — the object being, 
 by constant allusions, to exasperate pub- 
 lic feeling against the adventurer Con- 
 cini, Marechal d'Ancre, and his wife, 
 in the time of Louis XIII. Owing to 
 the troubles between France and Si)ain, 
 every word of Calderon's jday must 
 have told on his Spanish audiences. 
 There is a ricJi old Engli.sh translation 
 of ilatthieu's l)ook by Sir Thomas Haw- 
 kins, of which the .second edition was 
 ])ublished in l»j39, under the title "Un- 
 happy Prosjjerity expre.s.sed in the His- 
 tory of Elius Sejanus and Philippa the 
 Catanian."
 
 Chap. XXIV.] CALDERON's STYLE. 479 
 
 sort of euphuism which Gongora and his followers 
 called " the cultivated style." This is the case, for in- 
 stance, in his " Love and Fortune," and in his " Con- 
 flicts of Love and Loyalty." But in " April and May 
 Mornings," on the contrary, and in ^' No Jesting with 
 Love," he ridicules the same style with great severity; 
 and in such charming plays as " The Lady and tlie 
 Maid," and " The Loud Secret," he wholly avoids it, — 
 thus adding another to the many instances of distin- 
 «:uished men who have sometimes accommodated them- 
 selves to their age and its fashions, which at others 
 they have rebuked or controlled.^^ Everywhere, how- 
 ever, his verses charm us by their delicious melody ; 
 everywhere he indulges himself in the rich variety of 
 measures which Spanish or Italian poetry offered him, 
 — octave stanzas, terza rima^ sonnets, silvas^ Uras, and 
 the different forms of the 7'edondiUa, with the ballad 
 moiimdes and consonantes ; — showing a mastery over 
 his language extraordinary in itself, and one which, 
 while it sometimes enables him to rise to the loftiest 
 tones of the national drama, seduces him at others to 
 seek popular favor by fantastic tricks that were wholly 
 unworthy of his genius.'^'^ 
 
 * But we are not to measure Calderon as his * 408 
 contemporaries did. We stand at a distance 
 
 ^■^ Some of the best of Calderon's popular ballads ; of which the Te- 
 
 ])lays are occasionally disfigured with trarch's address in "El Mayor Mon- 
 
 the estilo cioUo ; sirch as the "Principe struo," Jorn. II., beginning "Si todas 
 
 Constante," " La Vida es Sueuo," "El quantas desdichas," is an exani})le. 
 
 Mayor Monstruo," and "EI Medico de (Tom. V. p. 497.) Calderon, also, be- 
 
 su Honra" ; and precisely these plays sides the forms of verse noted in the 
 
 we know were the works of his youth, text, occasionally inserts glosas ; — -a 
 
 for they all appear in the two volumes happy specimen of which may be found 
 
 printed by his brother in 1(5:35 and in " Amar despues de la Muerte," Jorn. 
 
 16.S7. II , beginning, "No es menester (pie 
 
 '^^ I think Calderon never uses Idank digais," which I select because, like 
 
 verse, though Lope does. The narra- other similar refinements of verse in 
 
 tive portions of his Comedias, like those Calderon, it is not .^^o ])rinted as to in- 
 
 of other dramatists, have sometimes form the eye what it is. Tom. V. p. 
 
 hcen printed separately, and sold as 370.
 
 480 CALDERON's CHAUACTEK. [Pkkiod il 
 
 too remote and impartial for such indulgence ; and 
 must neither pass over his failures nor exaggerate his 
 merits. We must look on the whole mass of his efforts 
 for the theatre, and inquire what he reall}' effected for 
 its advancement, — or rather what chans^es it under- 
 went in his hands, both in its more gay and its more 
 serious portions. 
 
 Certainly Calderon appeared as a writer for the 
 Spanish stage under peculiarly favorable circum- 
 stances ; and, by the preservation of his faculties to 
 an age beyond that commonly allotted to man, was 
 enabled long to maintain the ascendency he had early 
 established. His genius took its direction from the 
 very first, and preserved it to the last. When he was 
 fourteen years old he had written a piece for the 
 stage, which, sixty years later, he thought worthy to 
 be put into the list of dramas that he furnished to the 
 Admiral of Castile.^ When he was thirty-five, the 
 death of Lope de Yega left him without a rival. The 
 next year, he was called to court b}" Philip the Fourth, 
 the most munificent patron the Spanish theatre ever 
 knew ; and from this time till his death, the destinies 
 of the drama were in his hands nearly as much as they 
 had been before in those of Lope. Forty-five of his 
 longer pieces, and probabh^ more, were acted in mag- 
 nificent theatres in the different royal palaces of Ma- 
 drid and its neio-hborhood. Some must have been 
 exhibited with great pomp and at great expense, like 
 " The Three Greatest Wonders," each of whose three 
 acts was represented in the open air on a sepa- 
 rate stage by a different company of performers ; ** 
 
 ** "El Carro del Cielo," wliii-h Vera seats, but there were three stages be- 
 
 Tassis says he \vrote at fourteen, and fore them. It must have been a very 
 
 which we should be not a little pleased brilliant exhibition, and is ijuaint- 
 
 to see. ly explained in the loa prefixed to 
 
 25 The audience remained in the same it.
 
 Cir.vT. XXIV.] CALDKRON's CHARACTER. 481 
 
 * and " Love the G reatest Enchantment," brought * 409 
 out upon a lloating theatre which the waste- 
 ful extravagance of the Count Duke Olivares had 
 erected on the artificial waters in the gardens of the 
 Buen Retiro;^'' Indeed, everything shows that the 
 patronage, both of the court and capital, placed Cal- 
 deron forward, as the favored dramatic poet of his 
 time. This rank he maintained for nearly half a 
 century, and wrote his last drama, " Hado y Devisa," 
 founded on the brilliant fictions of Boiardo and Ariosto, 
 when he was eighty-one j'ears of age.'^' He therefore 
 was not only the successor of Lope de Vega, but en- 
 joyed the same kind of popular influence. Between 
 them, they held the empire of the Spanish drama for 
 ninety ^^ears ; during which, partly by the number of 
 their imitators and disciples, but chiefly by their own 
 jiersonal resources, they gave to it all the extent and 
 consideration it ever possessed. 
 
 Calderon, however, neither effected nor attempted 
 any great changes in its forms. Two or three times, 
 indeed, he prepared dramas that were either wholly 
 sung, or partly sung and partly spoken; but even 
 these, in their structure, w^ere no more operas than 
 his other plays, and were only a courtly luxury, which 
 it was attempted to introduce, in imitation of the 
 genuine opera just brought into France from Italy 
 
 ^ This is stated in the title, aiul fully acted several times during the 
 
 gracefully alluded to at the end of the month. 
 
 piece : — The exti-avagance of some of these 
 
 Fu6 el agua tan dichosa, exhibitions was monstrous. The Alar- 
 
 Que'm^rr'Sl'tro. ^^^^ «f Heliche for one royal entertain- 
 
 ment paid sixteen thousand ducats ; 
 
 The water, however, was not very and for another, thirty thousand. Oli- 
 
 happy or gi-acious the first night ; for a vares exceeded both ; and to the cost 
 
 storm of wind scattered the vessels, the of the drama in the palaces of Philip 
 
 royal part}', and a supper that was also IV. there was no ap])areut limit, 
 
 among tlie floating arrangements of the ^'^ Vera Tassis makes tliis statement, 
 
 occasion, prepared by Cosme Lotti, the See also F. W. V. Schmidt, Ueber die 
 
 Florentine architect. This was June italienischen Heldengcnlichte, Berlin, 
 
 12, 1639; but the play was success- 1820, 12mo, pp. 269-280. 
 VOL. II. 31
 
 482 caldki'.on's ciiakacter. [Pkkiod it. 
 
 by Louis the Foiirteeiitli, with whose court that of 
 Spain was now intimateh' connected.^ But this was 
 
 all. Calderon has added to the stage no new 
 * 410 form oi' dramatic composition. Nor has * he 
 
 much modified those forms which had l)een 
 ah'eady arranged and settled hy Lope de Yega. But 
 he has shown more technical exactness in combinmg 
 liis incidents, and adjusted everything more skilfully 
 for staore effect."^^ He has g^iven to the whole a new 
 coloring, and, in souie respects, a new physiognomy. 
 His drama is more poetical in its tone and tendencies, 
 and has less the air of truth and realit}^, than that of 
 his great predecessor. In its more successful portions, 
 — which are rarely objectionable from their moral 
 tone, — it seems almost as if we were transported to 
 another and more gorgeous world, where the scenery 
 is lighted up with unknown and preternatural splendor, 
 and where the motives and passions of the personages 
 that pass Ijefore us are so highly Avrought, that we 
 must have our own feelings not a little stirred and 
 excited before we can take an earnest interest in what 
 we witness, or s^'mpathize in its results. But even in 
 this he is successful. The buoyancy of life and spirit 
 that he has infused into the ga^^er divisions of his 
 drama, and the moving tenderness that pervades its 
 graver and more tragical portions, lift us unconsciously 
 to the height Avhere alone his ])i'ini;uit exhibitions can 
 prevail with our imaginations, — where alone we can 
 be interested and deluded, when we find ourselves in 
 
 38 The two decided attempts of Cal- ^ Goethe had this (juality of Calde- 
 
 deron in the opera style have already ron's drama in his mind when he said 
 
 been noticed. The " Laurel de Ajiolo" to Eckennann, ((iespriiche niit Ooethe, 
 
 (Comedias, Tom. VI.) is called a Fiesta Leipzig, 1837, Uand I. p. 1.51,) "Seine 
 
 (le Zarzmlu, in whiidi it is Siiid (.Tom. Stiicke -sind duvchaus bretterrecht, es 
 
 I.), "Se canta y se rejjresenta " ; — ist in ihnen kein Zug, der nieht fiir 
 
 so that it was j)robably partly sung and die beabsichtigt.- Wirkung calculiit 
 
 ]>artly acted. Of the Zarzudim we must wird. Calderon ist dasjenige Oenie, was 
 
 .speak when we eonie to Caudaino. zugleich den giossten Verstand hatte."
 
 ( ii.vi'. XXIV.] calderon's character. 483 
 
 the midst, not only of such a confusion of tlie different 
 forms of the drama, hut of such a confusion of the 
 proper Umits of dramatic and lyrical poetry. 
 
 To this elevated tone, and to the constant effort 
 necessary in order to sustain it, we owe much of what 
 distinguishes Calderon from his predecessors, and nearly 
 all that is most individual and characteristic in his 
 separate merits and defects. It makes him less easy, 
 graceful, and natural than Lope. It imparts to his 
 style a mannerism, which, notwithstanding the marvel- 
 lous richness and fluency of his versification, sometimes 
 wearies and sometimes offends us. It leads him 
 to repeat from himself * till many of his person- * 411 
 ag-es become standino; characters, and his heroes 
 and their servants, his ladies and their confidants, his 
 old men and his buffoons,"^*^ seem to be produced, like 
 the masked figures of the ancient theatre, to represent, 
 with the same attributes and in the same costume, the 
 different intrigues of his various plots. It leads him, 
 in short, to regard the whole of the Spanish drama as 
 a mere form, within whose limits his imagination may 
 be indulged without restraint ; and in which Greeks 
 and Romans, heathen divinities, and the supernatural 
 fictions of Christian tradition, may be all brought out 
 in Spanish fashions and with Sj)anish feelings, and led, 
 throuoh a succession of ino-enious and interestino; 
 adventures, to the catastrophes their stories happen to 
 require. 
 
 In carrying out this tlieory of the Spanish drama, 
 Calderon, as we have seen, often succeeds, and often 
 fails. But when he succeeds, his success is of no com- 
 mon character. He then sets before us only models 
 
 ^'^ A good many of Calderon's gra- " El Alcayde de si misnio," "Casa con 
 ciosos, or buffoons, are excellent, as, for Dos Puertas," " La Gran Zenobia," 
 instance, those in " La VidaesSueno," "La Dama Duende," etc.
 
 484 CALDEROX'S CHARACTER. [Period 11. 
 
 of ideal l)eaiity. perfection, and splendor; — a world, 
 he would have it, into which nothing should enter but 
 tlie highest elements of the national genius. There, 
 the fervid, yet grave, enthusiasm of the old Castilian 
 heroism; the chivalrous adventures of modern, courtly 
 honor; the generous self-devotion of individual loyalty; 
 and that reserved, but passionate love, which, in a state 
 of society where it was so rigoroush^ withdrawn from 
 notice, became a kind of unacknowledged religion of 
 the heart; — all seem to find their appropriate home. 
 And when he has once brought us into this land of 
 enchantment, whose glowing impossibilities his own 
 genius has created, and has called around him forms 
 of such grace and loveliness as those of Clara and 
 Dona Angela, or heroic forms like those of Tuzani, 
 Mariamne, and Don Ferdinand, then he has reached 
 the highest point he ever attained, or ever proposed to 
 himself; — he has set before us the grand show of 
 an idealized drama, resting on the purest and 
 * 412 * noblest elements of the Spanish national char- 
 acter, and one which, with all its unquestionable 
 defects, is to be placed among the extraordinary phe- 
 nomena of modern poetry.*^ 
 
 *i Calderon, likf many other authors Affanose" from "Gustos y Disgustos." 
 
 of the Spanish theatre, has, as we have And so of otliers. 
 
 seen, been a mag-azine of plots for tlie I have had occasion to speak of sev- 
 
 dramatists of other nations. Among eral of tlie translations of Calderon, and 
 
 those who have borrowed the most from jierhaps should add here a few words 
 
 him are thi- vounger ( 'orneille and Goz- on the principal of them, with their 
 
 zi. Thus, Corneille's "Engagements dates. A. W. Schlegel, 1803-1S09, 
 
 du Ha.sard " is from "Los Euiikmios de enlarged 1845, 2 vols. ; — Ones, 1815- 
 
 un Acaso"; " Le Feint Astrologue," 1842, 8 vols. ; — Malsburg, 1819- 1825, 
 
 from "El Astrologo Fingido"; " Le 6 vols.; — Martin, 1844, 2 vols.; — 
 
 Geolier de soi menie," from "El Al- Eichendorff, Gei.stliche Schauspiele, (ten 
 
 cayde de SI mismo " ; besiih's which, his Autos,) 1846-1853, 2 vols. ; — two 
 
 "Circe" and "L'lnconnu" jnove that plays by a Lady, 1851 ; — a single one 
 
 he had well studied Calderon's .show by' Cardinal Diepenbrock, 1852; — 
 
 pieces. Gozzi took his "Publico Se- and an Auto by Franz Lorinser, 1855; 
 
 creto" from the " Secreto a Voces"; — all in 6-Vr/««9i, and almost uniformly 
 
 his " Eco e Narci.so" from the play of in the measures and manner of their 
 
 the same name; and his "Due Notti oiigiuals. In yto^i««, lifteeu plays, se-
 
 Chai'. XXIV.] 
 
 CALDEUON S CHARACTER. 
 
 485 
 
 Icoted with care, are translated by Pie- 
 tro Monti, all but the "Principe Con- 
 stante " in prose, in his Teatro Scelto, 
 4 vols., 1855. In French, Danias-Hi- 
 nard, 3 vols., 1841-1844, in prose. 
 In English, six dramas by Kdwaril Fitz- 
 gerald, 1853, and six more, the same 
 year, by Denis Florence McCarthy, 2 
 vols., who.se version, often made in the 
 inonisures of the original, will, I tliink, 
 give an English reader a nearer idea of 
 Calderon's versifu:ation than he will 
 readily obtain elsewhere, and whose 
 Preface will direct him to the other 
 sources in our own language. Put 
 those of Fitzgerald are good, although 
 they are in blank verse ; so choice and 
 charming is his poetical language. In- 
 deed, I doubt whether the short S})an- 
 ish measures can be made effective in 
 English dramatic composition. The 
 best attempt known to me is in Trench's 
 translation of "La Vida es Sucnlo," at 
 the eiul of a little volume on Calderon's 
 Life and Genius, i)riuted both in Lon- 
 don and New York, in 1856. 
 
 Since the preceding note was pub- 
 lished, Mr. McCarthy has given to the 
 world translations of two plays and an 
 auto of Calderon, under the title of 
 ' ' Love, the gi-eatest Enchantment ; the 
 Sorceries of Sin ; the Devotion of the 
 Cross ; from the Spanish of Calderon, 
 attempted strictly iu the Spanish Aso- 
 
 nante and other imitative Verse," 1861 ; 
 printing, at the same time, a care- 
 fully corrected text of the Spanish 
 originals, page by page, opposite to 
 his tianslations. It is, I think, one 
 of the boldest attempts ever made in 
 English verse. Jt is, too, as it seems to 
 me, remarkably successful. Not that 
 asoMintcH can be made fluent and grace- 
 ful in English verse, or easily percep- 
 tible to an English ear, but tliat the 
 Spanish air and character of Calderon 
 are so happily and strikingly pi'eserved. 
 Previous to the two volumes noted 
 above, the "Sorceries of Sin" had ap- 
 peared in the "Atlantis," 1859; bnt 
 in the present volume Mr. McC'arthy 
 has far surpassed all Ik; had previously 
 done ; for Calderon is a poet who, 
 whenever he is translated, should have 
 his very excesses and extravagances, 
 liioth in thought and manner, fully 
 produced in order to give a faithful 
 idea of what is grandest and most 
 distinctive in his genius. Mr. McCar- 
 thy has done this, I conceive, to a. 
 degree which I had previously sup- 
 posed impossible. Nothing, I think, 
 in the English language will give us 
 so true an imj^ression of what is most 
 characteristic of the Spanish drama, 
 perhaps I ought to say of what is 
 most characteristic of Spanish poetry 
 generally.
 
 *413 *CHAPTErt XXV. 
 
 DRAMA AFTER CALDEROX. MORETO. COMEDIAS DE FIGUROX. ROXAS. 
 
 PLAYS BY MORE TUAX OXE AUTHOR. CUBILLO. LEYBA. CAXCER. 
 
 EXRIQCEZ GOMEZ. SIGLER. ZARATE. BARRIOS. DIAMAXTE. HOZ. 
 
 MATOS FRAGOSO. SOLfS. CAXDAMO. ZARZUELAS. ZAMORA. CAXI- 
 
 ZARES, AXD OTHERS. DECLIXE OF THE SFAXISH DRAMA. 
 
 The most brilliant period of the Spanish drama fiills 
 within the reign of Philip the Fourth, ^vllich extended 
 from 1621 to 1665, and embraced the last fourteen 
 years of the life of Lope de Vega, and the thirty most 
 fortunate years of the life of Calderon. But after this 
 period a change begins to be apparent ; for the school 
 of Lope was that of a drama in the freshness and buoy- 
 ancy of youth, while the school of Calderon belongs 
 to the season of its maturit}^ and gradual decay. Not 
 that this change is strongly marked during Calderon's 
 life. On the contrary, so long as he lived, and espe- 
 cially during the reign of his great patron, there is 
 little visible decline in the dramatic poetry of Spain : 
 though still, through the crowd of its disciples and 
 amidst the shouts of admiration that followed it on the 
 stage, the symptoms of its coming fate may be dis- 
 cerned. 
 
 Of those that divided the favor of the public with 
 their great master, none stood so near to him as Agus- 
 tin Moreto, of wlioiii we know much less than would be 
 important to the history of the Spanish drama. He 
 was born at Madrid, and was baptized on the 9th of 
 April, 1618. His best studies were no doubt those he 
 made at Alcala, between 1634 and 1639. Later he
 
 CiiAi'. XXV.] MORETO. 4S7 
 
 reirioved to Toledo, iiiul entered tlie houseliold of the 
 Cardinal Arelibishop, taking holy orders, and 
 joining a brotherhood as early * as 1659. Ten * 414 
 years later, in 16 G 9, he died, only fifty-one years 
 old, leaA'ing whatever of property he possessed to the 
 poor.^ 
 
 Three voliniies of liis i)lays, and a nmnber more 
 never collected into a volume, Avere })rinted between. 
 1654 and 1681, though he himself seems to have 
 regarded them, during the greater part of that time^^ 
 only as specious follies or sins. They are in all the 
 different forms known to the age to which they belong, 
 and, as in the case of Calderon, each form melts imper- 
 ceptibly into the character of some other. But the 
 theatre was not then so strictly watched as it had 
 been ; and the religious plays Moreto has left us are, 
 perhaps on this account, oftener connected with known 
 facts in the lives of saints, and with known events in 
 history, like " The Most Fortunate Brothers," whicli 
 contains the story of the Seven Sleepers of EphesuS;, 
 
 1 The little we know of Moreto lias Lagrimas Panegiricas on Montalvan, 
 
 been discovered or carefully collected 1639 (f. 48, a) ; and, two years after his 
 
 by Don Luis Fernandez Guerra y Orbe, death, in the " Coniedias Escogidas de 
 
 and is to be found in his excellent edi- los Mejores Ingenios," Tom. XXXVI., 
 
 tion of the "Comedias Escogidas" of Madrid, 1671, we have the "Santa Rosa 
 
 Moreto, filling Volume XXXIX. of the del Peni," the tir.st two act.s of which 
 
 Biblioteca de Autores Espaholes, 1856. are .said to have been his last work, the 
 
 The story that Moreto was concerned remaining act being by Lanini, but 
 
 in the violent death of Mediuilla, as with no intimation when Moreto wrote 
 
 suggested by Ochoa, (Teatro Espanol, the two others. This old collection of 
 
 Paris, Tom. IV., 1838, p. 248,) always Comedias Escogidas contains forty-six 
 
 incredilile, gets its coup de grace from plays attributed in whole or in pai't to 
 
 the date of Moreto's birth, settled Moieto, — a strong proof of his great 
 
 by Don Luis to have occurred in ]iopularity ; but one of them, at least, 
 
 1618, only two years before Medinilla's is not his. I mean the "Condesa de 
 
 death. Belflor," (in Tom. XXV., 1666, f. 18,) 
 
 As to ]\Ioreto's works, I possess his which is neitliei' more nor less than 
 
 ConK'dias, Tom. I., Madrid, 1677 (of Lope's well-known " Pei'ro del Horte- 
 
 uhich Antonio notes an edition in lano." The earliest play known to nie 
 
 16.54) ; Tom. II., Valencia, 1676 ; and to have been published by Moreto is 
 
 Tom. III., Madiid, 1681, all in 4to;— " Loque nierece un soldado" in Difer- 
 
 besides wdiich I have about a dozen of entes Comedias, Tom. XLIV., 1650,, 
 
 his plays, found in none of them. Mo- which 1 po.sse.ss. 
 reto api)tuirs as a known author in the.
 
 488 M0];ET0. [Period IT. 
 
 ootli 1)eforc they wore enclosed in the cave and when 
 they awoke from their miraculous repose of two cen- 
 turies." A few are hei'oic, such as '• The Brave Justi- 
 ciary of Castile." — a drama of spirit and power, on 
 the character of Peter the Cruel, thou"'h, like most 
 other plays in which that monarch appears, it is not 
 one in which tlie truth of history is respected. 
 * 415 But, in general, Moreto's dramas are of the * old 
 cavalier class ; and when they are not, they take, 
 in order to suit the humor of the time, manj' of the 
 characteristics of this truly national form. 
 
 In one point, however, he made, if not a change in 
 the direction of the drama of his predecessors, yet an 
 advance upon it. He devoted himself more to char- 
 acter-drawing, and often succeeded Ijetter in it than 
 they had. His first play of this kind was " The Aunt 
 and the Niece," printed as early as 1G54. The char- 
 acters are a widow, — extremely anxious to be mar- 
 ried, but foolishly jealous of the charms of her niece. 
 — and a vaporing, epicurean officer in the army, who 
 cheats the elder lady with flattery, while he wins the 
 younger. It is curious to observe, however, that the 
 hint for this drama — which is the oldest of the class 
 called figiu'on, from the prominence of one not very (SX^- 
 iiified y>>//'/'t' in it — is yet to be found in Lope de Vega, 
 to whom, as we have seen, is to be traced, directly or 
 indirectly, almost every form and shade of dramatic 
 composition that finally succeeded on the Spanish 
 .stage .'^ 
 
 Moreto's next attempt of the same sort is even 
 better known, " The Handsome Don Diego," — a 
 
 2 " Los iiia.s Dii-.liosos Herinauos." tempt at the preservation of the trutli 
 
 It is the fii-st play in the tliird vohmie ; of liistory in its aecoiiii»animeuts than 
 
 and though it does not (•onesj)onil in is loninion in the old Spanish drama, 
 its story with the l)eautiful lej^cnd as •' Conit-diiis de Lope de Vega, Tom. 
 
 Oibbon gives it, there is a greater at- X.XIV., Zaragoza, Iti-il, f. lO.
 
 CiiAi-. XXV.] MOKKTO. 489 
 
 phrase that has become a iiatioiuil proverl).' ll sets 
 forth with great spirit the character of a fop, Avho 
 believes that every lady he looks upon must fall in 
 love with him. The very first sketch of him at his 
 morning toilet, and the exhibition of the sincere con- 
 tempt he feels for the more sensible lover, who refuses 
 to take such frivolous care of his person, are fidl of 
 life and truth ; and the whole ends, with appropriate 
 justice, by his being deluded into a marriage with a 
 cunning waiting-maid, who is passed off upon him as 
 a rich countess. 
 
 Some of Moreto's plays, as, for instance, his " Trampa 
 Adelante," obtained the name of gracioso, because the 
 buffoon is made the character upon whom the action 
 turns ; and in one case, at least, he wrote a bur- 
 lesque * farce of no value, taking his subject * 416 
 from the achievements of the Cid. But his 
 general tone is that of the old intriguing comedy ; and 
 though he is sometimes indebted for his plots to his 
 predecessors, and especially to Lop'e, yet, in nearly 
 every instance, and perhaps in every one, he surpassed 
 his model, and the drama he wrote superseded on the 
 public stage the one he imitated.^ 
 
 This was the case with the best of all his plays^ 
 Disdain met with Disdain," for the idea of which he 
 was indebted to Lope, whose "Miracles of Contempt "^ 
 
 * " El lindo Don Diego." V>at Undo in Martinez de la Rosa, Oltra.s, Paris, 
 
 was not, I think, then vised commonly 1827, 12mo, Tom. 11. ]i|). 443-446. 
 
 in a disparaging or doubtful sense. But the excuses there given for him 
 
 The Infanta and her father Philip IV. hardly cover such a plagiarism as his 
 
 called Louis XIV. "lindo "when they " Valiente Justiciero" is, from Lope'.s. 
 
 first saw him at the Isle of Conferences " Infanzon de Illescas." Cancer y Ve- 
 
 before the marriage in 1660. Mad. de lasco, a contemjjorary yioct, in a little- 
 
 Motteville, Memoires, Tom. V., 1750, Jcio d'fsprit represents Morcto as sitting- 
 
 pp. 398, 401. down with a bundle of old ])lays to .see 
 
 ^ " The Aunt and the Niece " is from what he can cunningly steal out of 
 
 Lope's " De quando aca nos Vino," and them, spoiling all he steals. (0bra.s,. 
 
 " It cannot be" from his " Mayor Ini- Madrid, 1761, 4to, ]). 113.) But in 
 
 ])ossi})le." There are good remarks on this Cancer was unjust to Jloreto's tal- 
 
 these and other of Moreto's indtations ent, if not to his lioucstv.
 
 490 MORETO. [Period II. 
 
 has long been forgotten as an acting })lav. while Mo- 
 reto's still maintains its place on the Spanish stao-e, 
 of which it is one of the brightest ornaments.^ The 
 Nvplot is remarkably simple and well contrived. Diana, 
 heiress to the county of Barcelona, laughs at love and 
 refuses marriage, under whatever form it may be urged 
 upon her. Her fotlier. whose projects are unreasonably 
 thwarted l)y such conduct, induces the best and gayest 
 of the neighboring princes to come to his court, and 
 engage in tournaments and other knightly sports, in 
 order to win her favor. She, however, treats them all 
 with an equal coldness, and even with a pettish dis- 
 dain, until, at last, she is piqued into admiration of the 
 Count of Urgel, by his apparent neglect, which he skil- 
 fully places on the ground of a contempt like her own 
 for all love, but which, in fict. only conceals a deep and 
 
 faithful passion for herself. 
 * 417 * The charm of the piece consists in the poeti- 
 cal spirit with which this design is wrought out. 
 The character of the (jracioso i's well drawn and well 
 defined, and. as in most Spanish plays, he is his lord's 
 confidant, and by his shrewdness materially helps on 
 the action. At the opening, after having heard from 
 his master the position of affairs and the humors of the 
 lady, he gives his advice in the following lines, which 
 embody the entire argument of the drama : — 
 
 r 
 
 My lord, your ciisc I liave discreetly heard, 
 And find it neither wonderful nor new ; — 
 
 ® In 1664 Moliere imitated the "Des- however, is kno\ni wherever the Span- 
 den con el Desden"iii his " Princesse ish language is spoken, and a good trans- 
 d'Elide," which was rcjircsentcd at Vcr- lation of it into German is common on 
 sailles by the command of Louis XIV., the (ienaan stage. Another and ditlV-r- 
 with great splendor, before his queen ent translation in Dohm's "Spanisehe 
 and his mother, both Spanish iirin- Dramen," (Tom. II., 1S4'2, ) presenting 
 cesses The complimt-nt, as far as the the measures of the oiiginal, — rliynies 
 king was concerned in it, was a mag- and fi,ioiuin/^s, — seems to me quite re- 
 niticent one ; — on Molicrc's part it was markablc In the .same volume, too, is 
 a failure, and liLs play is now no longci- an equally good translation of Lope du 
 acted. The original drama of Moreto, Vega's " Milagros del Desprecio."
 
 Chap. XXV;] 
 
 ROXAS. 
 
 491 
 
 In slioit, it is an evorv-ilaj- affair. 
 
 Why, look ye, now ! In my young boyhood, sir, — 
 
 When the full vintage came and grapes were strewed, 
 
 Yea, wasted, on the ground, — I had, be sure, 
 
 No appetite at all. Ijut aftei-wards. 
 
 When they were gathered in for winter's use. 
 
 And hung aloft upon the kitchen rafters. 
 
 Then nothing looked so tempting half as they ; 
 
 And, climbing cunningly to reach them there, 
 
 I caught a pretty fall and bi'oke my ribs. 
 
 Now, this, sir, is your case, — the very sanio.^ 
 
 There is an excellent scene, in which the Count, 
 perceiving he has made an impression on the lady's 
 heart, fairly confesses his love, while she, who is not 
 yet entirely subdued, is able to turn round and treat 
 him with her accustomed disdain f from all which he 
 recovers himself with an address greater than her own, 
 j)rotesting his very confession to have been only a part 
 of the show they were by agreement carrying on. 
 But this confirms the lady's passion, which at last 
 becomes imcontroUable, and the catastrophe imme- 
 diately follows. She pleads guilty to a desperate love, 
 and marries him. ^ 
 
 Contemporary with Moreto, and nearly as successful 
 among the earlier writers for the stage, was 
 Francisco * de Roxas, who flourished during the * 418 
 greater jDart of Calderon's life, and may have 
 survived him. He was born in Toledo in 1607, and in 
 1641 was made a knight of the Order of Santiago, but 
 when he died is not known. Two volumes of his 
 plays were published in 1640 and 1645, and in the 
 Prologue to the second he speaks of publishing yet a 
 
 Atento, Seiior, he estado, 
 
 Y el succeso no me admira, 
 Porque esso, Seiior, es cosa, 
 Que sucede cada dia. 
 
 Mira ; siendo yo muchaeho, 
 Auia en mi casa veudimia, 
 
 Y por el suelo las ubas 
 Nunca me dauan codicia. 
 Passo este tiempo, y despues 
 
 Colgaron en la cocina 
 Las ubas para el Inuierno ; 
 Y yo viendolas arriba , 
 Kabiaua por comer dellas, 
 Tanto que, trepando un dia 
 Por alcan<;arlas, cai, 
 Y^ me quebr6 las costillas. 
 Este es el caso, el por el. 
 
 Jorn. I.
 
 492 ROXAS. [Pkkiod II. 
 
 thinl. wliicli never appeared; 80 that we have still 
 only the twenty-fonr plays contamed in these vol- 
 umes, and a few others that at different thiies were 
 printed separately.® He belongs decidedly to Cal- 
 deron's school, — imless, indeed, he began his career 
 too early to be a mere follower ; and in poetical merit, 
 if not in dramatic skill, takes one of the next places 
 after Moreto. But he is very careless and unequal. 
 His plays entitled '• He who is a King must not be a 
 Father " and '■' The Asjjics of Cleopatra " are as extrav- 
 agant as almost anything in the Spanish heroic drama ; 
 while, on the other hand, " What Women really are " 
 and " Foil}' rules here " are among the most effective 
 of the class of intrifruino; comedies.^ In o-eneral, he is 
 most successful when his tone tends towards tragedy. 
 
 His best play, and one that has always kept its place 
 on the stage, is called "' None below the King." The 
 scene is laid in the troublesome times of Alfonso the 
 Eleventh, and is in many respects true to them. Don 
 Garcia, the hero, is a son of Garci Bermudo, who had 
 conspired against the father of the reigning mon- 
 arch, and, in consequence of this circumstance, Garcia 
 lives concealed as a peasant at Castanar, near To- 
 ledo, very rich, but unsuspected by the government. 
 
 ^ From a notice by Vera Tas.sis ])r(!- Concerning an attcmjtt to assassinate 
 
 fixed to the first volume of Calderon's Eoxas in 1G38, and concerning the prob- 
 
 Comedias, 1685, I inter that a play of able time of his death, see some curious 
 
 Roxas was printed as early as 1C35. facts in Schack's Nachtrage, p. 90. 
 
 Both volumes of the Comedias de Roxas But it is doubtful, I think, whether 
 
 were reprinted, Madrid, 1680, 4to, and this Roxas, to whom Schack refers, was 
 
 both their Licencius are dated on the the dramatist. 
 
 same day; but the publisher of the ^ His " Per.siles y Sigismunda" is 
 
 first, who dedicates it to a distinguished from Cervantes's novel of the same 
 
 nobleman, is the .same person to whom name. On the other hand, his "Ca- 
 
 the second is dedicated by the jirinter sarse por vengarse " is plundered, with- 
 
 of both. yf«/o.« of Roxas may be found out ceremony, for the story of "Le 
 
 in "Autos, Loas, etc.," '[f>'>^i, and in Mariage de Vengeance," (Gil Bias, Liv. 
 
 "Xavidady Corpus Cliristi Festejados," IV. c. 4,) by Le Sage, who never 
 
 collected by Pedro de Robles, 1664. neglected a good ojijiortimity of the 
 
 But they are no better than those of sort, 
 his contemporaries generally.
 
 Chap. XXV.] ROXAS. 493 
 
 * In a period of great anxiety, Avlien the king * 419 
 wishes to take Algeziras from the Moors, and 
 demands, for that purpose, free contributions from liis 
 subjects, those of Garcia are so ample as to attract 
 especial attention. The king inquires who is this rich 
 and loyal peasant; and his curiosity being still farther 
 excited by the answer, he determines to visit him at 
 Castanar, incognito, accompanied by only two or three 
 favored courtiers. Garcia, however, is privately advised 
 of the honor that awaits Inm, but, from an error in the 
 description, mistakes the person of one of the attend- 
 ants for that of the king himself 
 
 On this mistake the plot turns. The courtier whom 
 Garcia wrongly supposes to be the king falls in love 
 with Blanca, Garcia's wife ; and, in attempting to enter 
 her apartments by night, when he believes her hus- 
 band to be away, is detected by the husband in person. 
 Now, of course, comes the struggle between Spanish 
 loyalty and Spanish honor. Garcia can visit no ven- 
 geance on a person whom he believes to be his king ; 
 and he has not the slightest suspicion of his wife, 
 whom he knows to be faithfully and fondly attached 
 to him. But the remotest appearance of an intrigue 
 demands a bloody satisfaction. He determines, there- 
 fore, at once, on the death of his loving wife. Amidst 
 his misgivings and delays, however, she escapes, and 
 is carried to court, whither he himself is, at the same 
 moment, called to receive the greatest honors that can 
 be conferred on a subject. In the royal presence, he 
 necessarily discovers his mistake regarding the king's 
 person. From this moment, the case becomes perfectly 
 plain to him, and his course perfectly simple. He 
 passes instantly into the antechamber. With a single 
 blow his victim is laid at his feet ; and he returns,
 
 494 PLAYS BY SEVERAL AUTHORS. [Period IL 
 
 .sheatliing his bloody dagger, and offering, as liis only 
 and sufficient defence, an account of all that had liap- 
 2)ened, and the declaration, which gives its name to the 
 play, that '-none below the king" can be permitted to 
 stand between him and the claims of his honor. 
 
 Few dramas in the Spanishjan guage are more poet^ 
 ical ; fewer still, more national in their tone. 
 ^ 420 The character of * Oarcia is drawn with great 
 vigor, and with a sharply defined outline. That 
 of his wife is equally well designed, but is full of 
 gentleness and patience.' Even the clown is a more 
 than commonly happy specimen of the sort of parody 
 suitable to his position. Some of the descriptions, too, 
 are excellent. There is a charming one of rustic life, 
 such as it was fancied to be under the most favorable 
 circimistances in Spain's best days ; and, at the end of 
 the second act, there is a scene between Garcia and 
 the courtier, at the moment the courtier is stealthily 
 entering his wife's apartment, in which we have the 
 struggle between Spanish honor and Spanish loyalty 
 given with a truth and spirit that leave little to be 
 desired. In short, if we set aside the best plays of 
 Lope de Yega and Calderon, it is one of the most 
 effective of the old Spanish theatre. ^"^ 
 
 Roxas was well known in France. Thomas Corneille 
 imitated, and almost translated, one of his plays ; and 
 as Scarron, in his " Jodelet," did the same with " Where 
 there are real Wrongs there is no Jealous^'," the second 
 comedy that has kept its place on the French stage is 
 due to Spain, as the first tragedy and the first comedy 
 had been before it." 
 
 i** "Del Key abaxo Nin^ino" has is no doubt who wrote it. It is, how- 
 been sometimes printed with the name ever, among the Coniedias Sueltas of 
 of Calderon, who might well be content Roxas, and not in his collected works, 
 to be regarded as its author ; but there ii T. Comeille's play is "Don Ber-
 
 Chap. XXV.] CUBILLO. 495 
 
 Like many writers for the Spanish theatre, Roxas 
 prepared several of his phiys in conjunction with 
 others. Franchi, in his eulogy on Lope de Vega, com- 
 plains of it, and says that a drama thus compounded 
 is more like a conspiracy than a comedy, and that such 
 performances were, in their different parts, necessarily 
 unequal and dissimilar. But this was not the general 
 opinion of his age ; and that the complaint is not 
 always well founded, we know, not only from the ex- 
 ample of Beaumont and Fletcher, but from the suc- 
 cess that has attended the composition of many 
 dramas in France in *the nineteenth century * 421 
 by more than one person. It should not be 
 forgotten, also, that in Spain, where, from the very 
 structure of the national drama, the story was of so 
 much consequence, and where so many of the char- 
 acters had standing attributes assigned to them, such 
 joint partnerships were more easily carried through 
 with success than they could be on any other stage. 
 At any rate, they were more common there than they 
 have ever been elsewhere.^^ 
 
 Alvaro Cubillo, who alludes to Moreto as his con- 
 temporary, and who was perhaps known even earlier 
 as a successful dramatist, said, in 1654, that he had 
 already written a hundred plays. But the whole of 
 this great numl^er, except ten published by himself, 
 and a few others that appeared, if we may judge by 
 
 tranddeCigarral,"(Qi;u\Tes, Pari.s, 1758, three reg[i\a.r jo^-nadas. In the large 
 
 12mo, Tom. I. p. 209,) and lii.s obliga- collection of Comedias printed in the 
 
 tions are avowed in the Dedication. latter half of the seventeenth century, 
 
 8carron's "Jodelet" (Qiuvres, Paris, in forty-eight volumes, there are, I 
 
 1752, 12mo, Tom. II. p. 73) is a spirited think, about thirty such plays. Two 
 
 ■comedy, de.sperately indebted to Roxas. are by six persons each. One, in honor 
 
 But Scarron constantly borrowed from of the Marquis Canete, is the work of 
 
 the Spanish theatre. nine different poets, but it is not in any 
 
 12 Three persons were frequently era- collection ; it is printed separately, and 
 
 ployed on one drama, dividing its com- better than was usual, Madrid, 1G22, 
 
 jjosition among them, according to its 4to.
 
 496 CUBILLO. [PnuioD II. 
 
 his eoiiiplaints, without his permission, are now lost. 
 Of those he pubhshed himself, '• The Thunderbolt of 
 Andalusia," in two parts, taken from tlie old ballads 
 about the " Infmtes de Lara," was much admired in his 
 Hfetime ; but ■• Marcela's Dolls," a simple comedy, 
 restinii; on the first childlike love of a vouno; ""irl, 
 has since quite supplanted it. One of his plays, 
 •• El Seiior de Noches Buenas," was early printed 
 as Antonio de Mendoza's, but Cubillo at once made 
 good his title to it; and yet, after the death of both, 
 it was inserted anew in Mendoza's works ; — a strik- 
 ing proof of the great carelessness long common in 
 Spain on the subject of authorship. 
 
 None of Cubillo's plays has high poetical merit, 
 though several of them are pleasant, easy, and nat- 
 ural. The best is " The Perfect Wife," in which the 
 gentle and faithful character of the heroine is drawn 
 Avith skill, and with a true conception of what is lovely 
 in woman's nature. Two of his religious plays, on 
 the other hand, are more than commonly extravagant 
 and absurd ; one of them — " Saint Michael " — 
 * 422 containing, in tlie first act, the story * of Cain 
 and Abel ; in the second, that of Jonah ; and 
 in the third, that of the Visigoth king, Bamba, with 
 a sort of separate conclusion in the form of a vision 
 of the times of Charles the Fifth and his three suc- 
 cessors.^'^ 
 
 But the Spanish stage, as we advance in Calderon's 
 
 ^^ The plays of Cubillo that I have puhlished as early as l&lij, and which 
 
 seen are, — ten in his " Enano de las seems to have been liked, and to have 
 
 Musas" (Madiid, 16.04, 4to) ; five in gone through several editions. But 
 
 the Coniedias Escogidas, piinted as early none of Cubillo's poetry is so good as 
 
 as 1660 ; and two or three more .scat- his plays. See Prologo and Dedication 
 
 tered elsewhere. The " Euano de las to the Enano, and Montalvan's li.st of 
 
 Mu.sa.s " is a collection of his work.s, wnitei-s for the stage at the end of his 
 
 containing many ballads, .sonnets, etc., "Para Todos." Cubillo was alive in 
 
 and an allegorical ]>oem on "The Court 1660. 
 of the Lion," which, Antonio says, was
 
 Chap. XXV.] 
 
 VAHIO US DRAMATISTS. 
 
 497 
 
 life, becomes more and more crowded witli di'amatic 
 authors, all eager in their struggles for popular favor. 
 One of them was Francisco de Leyba, or Leira, whose 
 " Mutius Scffivohi " is an absurdly constructed and wild 
 historical play ; while, on the contrary, his " Honor the 
 First Thing " and " The Lady President" are pleasant 
 comedies, enlivened with short stories and apologues, 
 which he wrote with naturalness and point.^^ Another 
 dramatist was Cancer y Velasco, whose poems are bet- 
 ter known than his plays, and whose "Muerte de Bal- 
 dovinos" runs more into caricature and broad farce 
 than was commonly tolerated in the court theatre.^^ 
 And yet others were Antonio Enriquez Gomez, son of 
 a Portuguese Jew, wdio wrote twenty-two plays, 
 but inserted in his " Moral Evenings with * the * 423 
 Muses "^^ only four, all of little value, except 
 
 1* There are a few of Leyba's plays in 
 a collection published at Madrid, 1826- 
 1834, and in the Comedias Escogidas, 
 and I possess a few of them in pam- 
 phlets. But I do not know how many 
 he wrote, and I have no notices of his 
 life. He is sometimes called Antonio 
 de Leyba ; unless, indeed, there were 
 two of the same surname. 
 
 1^ Obras de Don Geronimo Cancer y 
 Velasco, M idrid, 1761, 4to. The first 
 edition is of 16.51, and Antonio sets his 
 death at 1655. In a broadside which 
 I pos.sess, issued 24th May, 1781, by 
 the Inquisition at Seville, the "Muerte 
 de Baldo vinos" is prohibited "por es- 
 candalosa y obscena," and in the Index 
 of 1790, this drama, the " Vandolero 
 de Flandes," and finally the "Obras de 
 Cancer," are all, in separate articles, 
 put under censure. A play, however, 
 which he wrote in conjunction with 
 Pedro Rosete and Antonio Martinez, 
 Avas evidentl)'- intended to conciliate the 
 Church, and well calculated for its pur- 
 pose. It is called "El Mcjor Ilepresen- 
 tante San Gines," and is found in Tom. 
 XXIX., 1668, of the Comedias Escogi- 
 das, (slightly perhaps indebted to Lope's 
 " Fingido Verdadero,") — San Gines 
 iDeing a Roman actor, converted to 
 VOL. II. 32 
 
 Christianity, and undergoing martjT- 
 dom in the presence of the spectators 
 in consequence of being called on to act 
 a play written by Polycarp, which was 
 ingeniously constructed so as to defend 
 the Christians. The tradition is absurd 
 enough certainly, but the drama may 
 be read with interest throughout, and 
 parts of it with jdeasure. It has a love- 
 intrigue brought in with skill. Cancer, 
 I believe, wrote plays without assist- 
 ance only once or twice. Certainly, 
 twelve written in conjunction with Mo- 
 reto, Matos Fragoso, and others, are all 
 by him that are found in the Comedias 
 Escogidas. Five entremeses by him, 
 printed in 1659, are in a volume in the 
 Bibliothequede 1' Arsenal at Paris, which 
 contains others by Pedro Rosete, Luis 
 Velez, Andres Gil Enriquez, and Anto- 
 nio Soils. 
 
 1® "Academias Morales de las Mu- 
 sa.s," Madrid, 4to, 1660 ; but my copy 
 was printed at Barcelona, 1704, 4to. 
 See, too, in the Prologo" to his "San- 
 son," Ruan, 1656, the titles of his 
 twenty-two plays. He wrote otluu- 
 works, " Politica Angelica," Rohan, 
 1647; "Luis Dado de Dios," Paris, 
 1645, etc.
 
 408 
 
 ZARATE. 
 
 [Pehioii II. 
 
 " The Duticft of Honor " ; — Antonio Sigler de Huerta, 
 who wrote "No Good to Ourselves without Harm to 
 Somebody Else " ; — tmd Zabaleta, who, though he 
 made a satirical and harsh attack upon the theatre, 
 could not refuse himself the indulgence of writing for 
 it." 
 
 If we now turn from these to a few whose success 
 ^vas more strongly marked, none presents himself 
 earlier than Fernando de Zarate, a poet who was 
 much misled by the bad taste of his time, though 
 his talent was such that he ought to have resisted 
 it. Thus this eminently Spanish folh' is very ob- 
 vious in his best plays, as, for instance, in his other- 
 wise good drama, " He that talks Most does Least," 
 and even in his " Presumptuous and Beautiful," 
 which has continued to be acted down to our own 
 days.^^ 
 
 ^' " Flor lie las Mcjoros Comedias," 
 Madnd, ltJ52, 4to. P>apna, llijos de 
 Madrid, Tom. III. p. 227. A consid- 
 erable number of the ]>lays of Zabaleta 
 may be seen in the forty-eight volumes 
 of the Comedias Escogidas, 1652, etc. 
 One of them, "El Hijo de Marco Au- 
 relio," on the subject of the Emperor 
 Commodns, was acted in 1644, and, as 
 the author tells us, being received with 
 little favor, and complaints being made 
 tliat it was not founded in truth, he 
 began at once a life of that Em])eror, 
 which he calls a translation from Hero- 
 dian, but which has claims neither to 
 fidelity in its version, nor to jiurity in 
 its style. It remained long unfinished, 
 until one morning in 1664, waking u]) 
 and finding himself struck entindy 
 blind, he began, "as on an elevation," 
 to look round for some occupation suited 
 to his solitude and aHlietion. .His ])lay 
 had been ]»rinted in 1658, in the tenth 
 V(jlume of tlie Comedias Escogidas, and 
 he now com]ileted the work that w;i.s to 
 justify it, and jiublished it in 1666, an- 
 nouncing himself on the title-page as a 
 royal chronicler. But it failed, as his 
 drama had failed Viefore it. In the 
 " Vcxumen ile Ingeuios " of Cancer, 
 
 where the failure of another of Zaba- 
 leta's plays is noticed, (Obras de Can- 
 cer, Sladrid, 1761, 4to, p. Ill,) a pun- 
 ning epigram is inserted on his personal 
 ugliness, the amount of which is, that, 
 though his jday was dear at the price 
 paid for a ticket, his face would rej^ay 
 the loss to those who should look on it. 
 1** The plays of Zarate are, I believe, 
 easiest found in the Comedias Escogi- 
 das, where twenty-three or more of 
 them occur ; — the earliest in Tom. 
 XIV., 1661 ; and "Quien habla mas 
 obra menos" in Tom. XLIV. In the 
 Index Expurgatorius of 1790, p. 288, 
 it is intmiatcd that Fernando de Zarate 
 is the .same person with Antonio En- 
 ricjuez Gomez ; — a mistake founded, 
 ](robabiy, on the circumstance, that a 
 play of Enriquez Gomez, who was of 
 .lewish descent, was printed with the- 
 name of Zarate attached to it, as other? 
 of his plays were printed with the name 
 of Calderon. Amador de los Kios, Ju- 
 dios de Esjiaila, Madrid, 1848, 8vo, p. 
 575. l^i'sides, Schack found an nnfo- 
 (jraph ])lay of Zarate in Duran's collec- 
 tion, (Nachtriige, p. 61,) proWng, of 
 course, tliat Zarate was a real person : 
 and the play printed as Zarate's, which
 
 f'TiAr. XXY.] BABRIOS. DIAMANTE. 499 
 
 *' Another of tlio writers for the theatre at * 424 
 this time was Miguel de Barrios, one of those 
 inihappy cliiUlren of Israel, who, under the terrors of 
 the Inquisition, concealed their religion, and suffered 
 some of the worst penalties of unbelief from the jeal- 
 ous intolerance which everywhere watched them. His 
 family was Portuguese, but he himself was born in 
 Spain, and served long in the Spanish armies. At last, 
 however, when he w^as in Flanders, the temptations 
 to a peaceful conscience were too strong for him. He 
 escaped to Amsterdam, and died there in the open 
 profession of the faith of his fathers, about the year 
 1699. His plays were printed as early as 1665, but 
 the only one worth notice is " The Spaniard in Oran " ; 
 longer than it should be, but not without merit.^^ 
 
 Diamante was among those who wrote dramas espe- 
 cially accommodated to the popular taste, while Cal- 
 deron was still at the height of his reputation. Their 
 number is considerable. Two volumes were collected 
 hy him and published in 1670 and 1674, and yet many 
 others still remain in scattered pamphlets and in manu- 
 script.^'^ They are in all the forms, and in all the 
 
 has caused, I suppose, this confusion, this author, who, being a ' New Chris- 
 is " Lo que obligan los Zelos," and is tian,' was happy enough to get into a 
 distinctly claimed as his own by En- country where he could profess himself 
 riquez Gomez in the Prologo to his a Jew." There is a long notice of him 
 "Sanson," which, of course, he would in Barbosa, Biblioteca Lusitana, Tom. 
 not have done if Zarate were merely his III. p. 464, and a still longer one in 
 own pseudonyme. All that is said, to Amador de los Eios, Judios de Espana, 
 ])rove Zarate and Enricpiez Gomez to be Madrid, 1848, pp. 608, etc. 
 the same person, by Castro, in the Bib- -' The " Comedias de Diamante " are 
 lioteca of Rivadeneyra, (Tom. XVII. in two volumes, 4to, ]\Iadrid, 1670 and 
 pp. Ixxxix, xc,) goes, therefore, for 1674 ; but in the first volume eight 
 nothing. plays are paged together, and for the 
 1^ His "Coro de las Musas," at the four others there is a separate paging; 
 end of which his plays are commonly though, as the whole twelve are recog- 
 added separately, was printed at Brus- nized in the Tassa and in the table of 
 sels in 1665, 4to, and in 1672. In my contents, they are no doubt all his. 
 copy, which is of the first edition, and There is a MS. play of his in the col- 
 which once belonged to ilr. Southey, lection of the Duke of Ossuna, dated 
 is the following characteristic note in May 25, 1656, and he seems to have 
 his handwriting: "Among the Lans- been alive in 1684. He w;is born at 
 downe MSS. is a volume of poems by Madrid in 16-26.
 
 -500 DIAMANTE. [Peuiod II. 
 
 varieties of tone, then in favor. Some of them, like 
 '' Santa Teresa," are rehgioiis. Others are historical, 
 like " Mary Stuart." Others are taken from the old 
 national traditions, like " The Siege of Zamora," which 
 is on the same subject with the second part of Guillen 
 
 de Castro's " Cid," but much less poetical. 0th- 
 * 42-3 ers are * zarzuelas, or dramas chiefly sung, of 
 
 wliich the best specimen by Diamante is his 
 " Alpheus and Arethusa," prepared with an amus- 
 ing loa in honor of the Constable of Castile. There 
 are more in the style of the capa y espaJa than in any 
 other. But none of them has au}^ marked merit. The 
 one that has attracted most attention, out of Spain, is 
 "^^ The Son honoring his Father" ; a pla}^ on the quar- 
 rel of the Cid with Count Lozano, which, from a 
 mistake of Voltaire, was lono- thought to have been 
 the model of Corneille's " Cid," while in fact the re- 
 verse is true, since Diamante's plaj' was produced 
 above twenty ^-ears after the great French tragedy, 
 and is deeply indebted to it.-^ Like most of the dram- 
 atists of his time, Diamante was a follower of Calde- 
 ron, and inclined to the more romantic side of his 
 character and school ; and, like so many Spanish poets 
 of all times, he finished his career in unnoticed obscu- 
 rity. Of the precise period of his death no notice has 
 been found, but it was probably near the end of the 
 century. 
 
 Passing over such writers of plays as Monteser, Ge- 
 
 21 The "Cid " of Corneille dates from mante, and with a siniilartitle, — " Hon- 
 
 1636, and Diamante's " Honrador d(; su rador dc sus Hijas," — is found in tlie 
 
 Padre " is found earliest in the ck'ventli Comedias Escogidas, Tom. XXIII., 
 
 volume of the Comedias Escogidas, 11- 1662. Its author is Francisco Polo, 
 
 censed 1658. Indeed, it may well he of whom I know only that he wrote 
 
 douhted whether Diamante was a writer this diama, whose merit is very small, 
 
 for the stage so early as 1636 ; for I find and whose subject is the marriage of 
 
 no play of his printed liefore 16.57. An- the daught(-rs of the Cid with the 
 
 other- play on the suhject of the Cid, Counts of Cairion, and their sul)sequent 
 
 paitlv iinitMtcil from tliis one of Dia- ill-treatment by thek husbands, etc.
 
 chai-. XXV.] noz. 501 
 
 ronymo de Cuellar, and not a lew others, who floari.><hed 
 in the latter half of the seventeenth century, we come 
 to a pleasant comedy entitled " The Punishment of 
 Avarice," written by Juan de la IIoz, a native of Ma- 
 drid, who was made a knight of Santiago in 165o, and 
 Regidor of Burgos in 1657, after which he rose to good 
 offices about the court, and was living there as late as 
 1709. How many plays he wrote, we are not told ; 
 but the onl}^ one now remembered is " The Punish- 
 ment of Avarice." It is founded on the third tale of 
 Maria de Zayas, which bears the same name, and from 
 which its general outline and all the principal inci- 
 dents are taken.^ But the miser's character is 
 * much more fullj^ and poetically drawn in the * 426 
 drama than it is in the story. Indeed, the play 
 is one of the best specimens of character-drawing on 
 the Spanish stage, and may, in man}" respects, bear a 
 comparison with the " Aulularia " of Plautus, and the 
 " Avare " of Moliere. 
 
 The sketch of the miser by one of his acquaintance 
 in the first act, ending wdth " He it was who first weak- 
 ened water," is excellent ; and, even to the last scene, 
 where he goes to a conjurer to recover his lost monej", 
 the character is consistently maintained and well de- 
 veloped.^'^ He is a miser throughout, and, what is more, 
 
 22 Huerta, who reprints the "Casti- found an autograph play by him dated 
 
 go de la Miseiia" in the first volume in 1708. If this were the case, Hoz 
 
 of his "Teatro He.spanol," expresses a must have lived to a good old age. 
 doubt as to who is the inventor of the '-3 fjjg gj.g^ Qf these scenes is taken, 
 
 story, Hoz or Maria de Zayas. But in a good degi'ee, from the "Xovelas," 
 
 there is no ipiestion about the matter. ed. 1637, p. 86 ; but the scene with the 
 
 The "Novelas" were printed at Zara- astrologer is wholly the poet's own, and 
 
 goza, 1637, 4to, and their Ajrrobacion parts of it are worthy of Ben Jonson. 
 
 is dated in 1635. See, also, Baena's It should be added, however, that the 
 
 "Hijos de Madrid," Tom. III. p. 271. third act of the play is technically .su- 
 
 In the Prologo to Candamo's plays, i)erfluous, as the action really ends with 
 
 {Madrid, Tom. I., 1722,) Hoz is said the second. But we could not afford 
 
 to have written the third act of Cauda- to part with it, so full is it of sjiirit and 
 
 mo's "San Bernardo," left unfinished humor. The tale of Jlan'a de Zayas is 
 
 at its author's death in 1704, and Schack plundered after his fashion — that is,
 
 502 MATOS FRAGOSO. [Period II. 
 
 he is a Spanish miser. The moral is better in the 
 prose tale, as the hiirigante, who cheats him into a mar- 
 riag-e with herself, is there made a victim of her crimes 
 no less than he is ; while in the drama she profits b}' 
 them, and comes off with success at last, — a strange 
 jDcrversion of the original story, for which it is not 
 easy to give a good reason. But in poetical merit 
 there is no comparison between the two. 
 
 Juan de Matos Fragoso, a Portuguese, who lived in 
 Madrid at the same time with Diamante and Hoz, and 
 died in 1692, enjoyed quite as much reputation with 
 the public as they did, though he often writes in the 
 very bad taste of the age. But he never printed more 
 than one volume of his dramas, so that they are now 
 to be sought chiefly in separate pamphlets, and in col- 
 lections made for other purposes than the claims of the 
 individual authors found in them. Those which are 
 most known are his " Mistaken Experiment," 
 * 427 founded on * the " Impertinent Curiosity " of 
 the first part of Don Quixote ; his '' Fortune 
 through Contempt," a better-managed dramatic fiction ; 
 and his " Wise Man in Retirement and Peasant by his 
 own Fireside," which is common] \' accounted the best 
 of his works."'* 
 
 " The Captive Redeemer," however, in which he was 
 assisted by another well-known author of his time, Se- 
 bastian de Villaviciosa, is on many accounts more in- 
 teresting and attractive. It is, he says, a true story. 
 
 mutilated ami aljiidged — by Scarron, Coniedias, ^arag09a, 1647, is published 
 
 in his "Chatiment de I'Avarice"; — in Vol. XXXIX. of the Coniedias Esco- 
 
 Xouvelles Tragicoiniques, Paris, 1752, gidas as the work of Matos, and from 
 
 12mo, Tom. I. pp. 16.^-205. that copied iir.'^t into Garcia Suelto's 
 
 -* Tlii.s Jilay, it .should lie noted, is collection, and then into Ochoa's. Ma- 
 
 niuch indebted to Lope's " Villano en tos Fragoso must have been a writer for 
 
 su Rincon " ; and it may be well also to the stage fifty-nine years at least, for 
 
 add, that the "De.sprecio Agradecido," Schack found a MS. of one of his i)laya 
 
 the second play in Parte XXV. of Lope's dated 1634 (Xachtrage, p. 92).
 
 CiiAi'. XXV.] MATOS FIIAGOSO. 503 
 
 It is certainly a lieart-rending one, founded on an inci- 
 dent not nncomnion during the barl)arou.s wars carried 
 on between the Christians in Spain and tlie Moors in 
 Africa, — relics of the fierce hatreds of a thousand 
 3'ears.^ A Spanish lady is carried into captivity by a 
 marauding party, who hmd on the coast for plunder,, 
 and instantly escape with their prey. Her lover, ia 
 despair, follows her, and the drama consists of their 
 adventures till both are found and released. Mingled 
 with this sad story, there is a sort of underplot, whicli 
 gives its name to the piece, and is very characteristic 
 of the state of the theatre and the demands of the 
 public, or at least of the Church. A large bronze 
 statue of the Saviour is discovered to be in the hands 
 of the infidels. The captive Christians immediately 
 offer the money, sent as the price of their own free- 
 dom, to rescue it from such sacrilege ; and, at last, the 
 Moors agree to give it up for its weight in gold ; but 
 when the value of the thirty pieces of silver, originally 
 paid for the person of the Saviour himself, has 
 been counted into one scale, it * is found to * 428 
 outweigh the massive statue in the other, and 
 enough is still left to purchase the freedom of the cap- 
 tives, who, in offering their ransoms, had in fact, as 
 they supposed, offered their own lives. With this tri- 
 umphant miracle the piece ends. Like the other 
 dramas of Fragoso, it is written in a great variety of 
 
 ^^ I liavc already noticed plays of semblance to the one syioken of in the 
 
 Lope and (Jervantes that set forth the text. It is called " Kl Azote de sii 
 
 cruel coiidition of Christian Spaniards Patria," (('oniedias Eseoj^idas, Tom. 
 
 in Algiers, and must hereafter notice XXXIV., 1670,) and is filled with the 
 
 the great influence this state of things cruelties of a Valencian renegade, who 
 
 had on Spanish romantic fiction. But seems to have been an liistoi'ical })er- 
 
 it should be remembered here, that sonage. The popular ballads bear tes- 
 
 many dramas were founded on it, be- timony to the same state of things, 
 
 sides those I have had occasion to men- Duran, Komancero General, Tom. I. 
 
 tion. One of the :nost striking is by pp. xiv and 136 - 150. 
 Moreto, which has some points of re-
 
 -504 SOLis. [Pkriod II. 
 
 measures, wliicli are managed with skill, and are full 
 of sweetness.^*' 
 
 The last of the good writers for the Spanish stage 
 with its old attributes is Antonio de Solis, the historian 
 of Mexico. He was born on the 18th of July, 1610, in 
 Alcala de Henares, and completed his studies at the 
 University of Salamanca, where, when only seventeen 
 years old, he wrote a drama. Five years later he had 
 given to the theatre his " Gitanilla." or '*• The Little 
 Gypsy Girl," founded on the storj- of Cervantes, or 
 rather on a play of Montalvan borrowed from that 
 .story ; — a graceful fiction, which has been constantly 
 reproduced, in one shape or another, ever since it first 
 appeared from the hand of the great master. '' One 
 Fool makes a Hundred " — a pleasant figuron play of 
 Solis, which was soon afterwards acted before the court 
 — has less merit, and is somewhat indebted to the 
 " Don Diego " of Moreto. But, on the other hand, his 
 " Love a la Mode," which is all his o^^^l, is among the 
 good plays of the Spanish stage, and furnished materials 
 for one of the best of Thomas Corneille's. 
 
 In 1G42, Solis prepared, for a festival at Pamplona, — 
 on occasion of the birth of a son to the Viceroy of Na- 
 varre, whom Solis was then serving as secre- 
 429 tary, — a dramatic * entertainment on the story 
 
 * 
 
 '■**• In the CoiiieJias Escogidas, there the best of them. Villa viciosa wrote- 
 
 are at least twenty-five plays written a part of "Solo el Piadoso es lui Hijo," 
 
 wholly or in part V)y Mates, the earliest of "El Letrado del Cielo," of "El 
 
 of whieh is in Toili. V., IfiftS. P'rom Kedentor Cautivo," etc. The apologue 
 
 the eoiielusion of his " Poeos bastan si of the barber, in the second act of the 
 
 -son Buenos," (Tom. XXXIV., 1670,) la.st, is, I think, taken from one of 
 
 and, indeed, from the local descri])tions Leyba's plays ; but I have it not now 
 
 in other parts of it. there can be no by me to lefer to, and such things weie 
 
 ■doubt that Matos Fiugoso was at one too common at the time on a much 
 
 time in Italy, and verv little that this larger scale to deserve notice, except as 
 
 drama was written at Naples, and acted incidental illustrations of a well-knov. n 
 
 before the Spanish Viceroy there. One state of literary morals in Spain. Fra- 
 
 ■volunie of the plays of Matos Fi-agoso, goso's life is in Barbosa, Tom. II. pp. 
 
 •called the first, was |)rinted at Mailrid, G9.')-697. I have eighteen of his yday> 
 
 1658, 4to. Otiicr .sejiarati' jdays are in in separate jiamphlets, besides those in 
 
 iJuelto's collection, but not, 1 think, the Comedias Escogidas.
 
 Chaj'. XXV. I SOLIS. 5(<?j 
 
 of Orplieu.s and Eurydice, in wliicli tlie tone of the 
 Spanish national theatre is fantastically confounded 
 with the genius of the old Grecian mythology, even 
 more than was connnon in similar cases ; but the whole 
 ends, quite contrary to all poetical tradition, by the 
 rescue of Eurydice from the infernal regions, and an 
 intimation that a second part would follow, whose con- 
 clusion would be tragical ; — a promise which, like so 
 many others of the same sort in Spanish literature, was 
 never fulfilled. 
 
 As his reputation increased, Soils was made one of 
 the royal secretaries, and, while acting in this capacij:y, 
 wrote an allegorical drama, partly resembling a moral- 
 ity of the elder period, and partly a modern masque,, 
 in honor of the birth of one of the princes, which was 
 acted in the palace of the Buen Retiro. The title of 
 this wild, but not unpoetical opera is " Triumphs of 
 Love and Fortune "; and Diana and Endymion, Psyche 
 and Venus, Happiness and Adversity, are among its 
 dramatic personages ; though a tone of honor and gal- 
 lantry is as consistently maintained in it, as if its scene 
 were laid at Madrid, and its characters taken from the 
 audience that witnessed the performance. It is the 
 more curious, however, from the circumstance, that the 
 ha^ the entretneses, and the sa/pieie, with which it was 
 originally accompanied, are still attached to it, all 
 'written by Soils himself.^^ 
 
 In this way he continued, during the greater part of 
 his life, one of the favored writers for the private the- 
 atre of the king and the public theatres of the capital ; 
 the dramas he produced being almost uniformly marked 
 
 2^ The " Triunfos de Amor y For- " Tlirce Spanish Plays " whose trausla- 
 
 tniia" appeared as early as 1660, in tioii is attributed to Lord Holland. 
 
 Tom. XIII. of the Comedias Escogidas. Ante, p. 393, note 5. 
 " Un Bobo hace ciento" is one of the
 
 500 CAXDAMO. [PF.Kion II. 
 
 by a skilful complication of their plots, which were not 
 always original ; by a somewhat broad humor ; and Ijy 
 a purity of style and harmony of versification very 
 rare in his time. But at last, like man}' other Spanish 
 poets, he began to think such occupations sinful ; and, 
 after much deliberation, he resolved on a life of re- 
 ligious retirement, and submitted to the tonsure. 
 * 430 From this time he * renounced the theatre. He 
 even refused to write autos sncramcntales, when 
 lie was applied to, in the hope that he might be willing 
 to become a successor to the fiime and fortunes of his 
 great master ; and, giving up his mind to devout medi- 
 tation and historical studies, seems to have lived con- 
 tentedly, though in seclusion and poverty, till his 
 death, which happened in 1686. A volume of his 
 minor poems, published afterwards, which are in all 
 the forms then fashionable, has little value, except in 
 a few short dramatic entertainments, several of which 
 are characteristic and amusino-.-*^ 
 
 Later than Soils, but still partly his contemporary, 
 was Francisco Banzes Candamo. He was a gentleman 
 of ancient family, and was born in 1662, in Asturias, — 
 that true soil of the old Spanish cavaliers. His educa- 
 tion was careful, if not wise ; and he was early sent to 
 court, where he received, first a pension, and afterwards 
 several important offices in the financial administra- 
 
 2* Tlie " Varias Poesias " of Solis and in Victor Hugo's " Notre Dame dt- 
 
 were edited by Juan de Goyencche, who Paris " ; besides which certain resem- 
 
 prefixed to them an ill-written life of blances to it in the "Spanish Student "' 
 
 their author, and ijublislied them at of Professor Longfellow are noticed by 
 
 Madrid, 1692 (4to) ; but there are also the author. Tobin, the author of tht- 
 
 editions of 1 71(5 and 17o2. His Come- "Honey Moon," who was a lover of 
 
 dias were first printed in Madriil, 1681, Spanish literature, made an analysis of 
 
 a.s Tom. XL VI I. of the Comedias Es- this play of Solis, intending to adapt it 
 
 cogidas. Thti " Oitanilla," of which I to the English stage. But he died 
 
 liave said that it has been occa-sionally young in 1804, and left this, like otlier 
 
 reproduced from Cervantes, is to be literary i)rqjects, only in outline. Sec 
 
 found in the "Spaiush Gypsj'" of Row- his M(^nii)irs by Miss Benger, 8vo, Loii- 
 
 ley and Mithlli'ton ; in tin' " Preciosa," don, 1820, pp. 107, 171, — a graceful 
 
 a pleasant German |>lay by P. A. Wollf ; tribute of woman's love.
 
 Chap. XXY.] CANDAMO. 507 
 
 tion, whose duties, it is said, he fulfilled with good 
 faith and efficiency. But at last the favor of the court 
 deserted him ; and he died in 1704, under circum- 
 stances of so much wretchedness, that he was buried at 
 the charge of a religious society in the place to which 
 he had been sent in disgrace. 
 
 His plays, or rather two volumes of them, were 
 printed in 1722 ; but in relation to his other poems, a 
 large mass of which he left to the Duke of Alva, we 
 only know, that, long after their author's death, a 
 bundle of them was sold for a few pence, and that 
 an inconsiderable collection of such of them as 
 could be picked up from different sources *was *431 
 printed in a small volume in 1729.^^ Of his 
 plays, those which he most valued are on historical 
 subjects,^*^ such as "The Recovery of Breda" and "For 
 his King and his Lady " ; but the most successful was, 
 no doubt, his " Esclavo en Grillos de Oro." He wrote 
 for the theatre, however, in otlier forms, and several of 
 his dramas are curious, from the circumstance that they 
 are tricked out with the has and eutrcmeses which served 
 originally to render them more attractive to the mul- 
 titude. Nearly all his plots are ingenious, and, though 
 involved, are more regular in their structure than was 
 
 29 Candamo's plays, entitled "Poe- an epic on the expedition of Charles V. 
 sias Comieas, Obras Postumas," were against Tunis ; wnie cantos ha\'ing been 
 printed at Madrid, in 1722, in 2 vols., among the papers left by its author to 
 4to. His miscellaneous poems, "Poe- the Duke of Alva. The life of Canda- 
 sias Lp-icas," were published in Madrid, mo, prefixed to the whole, is very poor- 
 in 18mo, but without a date on the ly written. Huerta (Teatro, Parte III. 
 title-page, while the Dedication is of Tom. I. p. 196) says he himself bouglit 
 1729, the Licencms of 1720, and the a large mass of Candamo's poetry, in- 
 Fe de Errafas, which ought to be the chiding si.r cantos of this epic, for two 
 latest of all, is of 1710. This, however, rials; no doubt, a part of the raanu- 
 is a specimen of the confusion of such scripts left to the Duke. He puts Can- 
 matters in Spanish books ; a confusion damo's death, 8th of September, 1709. 
 which, in the present instance, is carried The date in the text is from the ])oor 
 into the contents of the volume itself, Life prefixed to his Obras Liricas, and 
 the whole of which is entitled "Poesias is, I think, right. 
 
 Lyricas," though it contains idyls, epis- ^"^ He boasts of them in the opening 
 
 ties, ballads, and part of three cantos of of his "Cesar Africauo."
 
 508 ZARZUELAS. [Period II. 
 
 common at the time. But liis style is swollen and pre- 
 sumptuous, and there is, notwithstanding their inge- 
 nuity, a want of life and movement hi nK)st of his 
 plays that prevented them from being efieetive on 
 the stage. 
 
 Candamo, however, should be noted as having given 
 a decisive impulse to a form of the drama which was 
 known before his time, and which served at last to 
 mtroduce the genuine opera; I mean the zamiela, 
 which took its name from that of one of the royal 
 residences near Madrid, where they were first repre- 
 sented with great splendor for the amusement of 
 Philip the Fourth, by command of his brother 
 * 432 Ferdinand.'^^ Thej^ are, in fiict, plays * of va- 
 rious kinds, — shorter or longer; entremeses or 
 full-length comedies ; — often in the nature of vaude- 
 villes, but all in the national tone, and yet all accom- 
 panied with music. 
 
 The first attempt to introduce dramatic performances 
 with music was made, as w^e have seen, about 1630, by 
 Lope de Vega, whose eclogue "Selva sin Amor," wholly 
 sung, was played before the court, with a showy appa- 
 ratus of scener}^ prepared by Cosmo Lotti, an Italian 
 architect, and " was a thing," says the poet, '' new" in 
 
 ^^ Ferdinand was the gay and gallant found in the " Ocios de Igiiacio Alvarez 
 
 Cardinal Archbishop of Toledo who Pellicer de Toledo," s. 1. 1685, 4to, p. 
 
 commanded the araiies of Spain in 26. Its tendency to approach the 
 
 Flanders and presided in her councils Italian opera is apparent in its subject, 
 
 there. He died in 1641. (Stirling's which is "The Vengeance of Diana," 
 
 Artists of Spain, Vol. II. p. 529.) He as well ;us in the treatment of the stoiy, 
 
 loved the theatre as his brother did, in the theatrical machinery, etc. ; but 
 
 and in these lenten entertainments it has no jioetical merit. A small vol- 
 
 sought to please him. At first, only inne, by Andreas Ddvila y Heredia, 
 
 airs were introduced into the play, but (Valencia, 1676, 12mo, ) called "Co- 
 
 gradually the whole was sung. (Ponz, media sin Musica," is intended to lidi- 
 
 Viage de Espana, Madrid, 12mo, Tom. cule the beginnings of the o])era in 
 
 VI., 1782, p. 152. Signorelli, Storia Spain; but it is a prose satire, of little 
 
 dei Teatri, Napoli, 1813, Svo, Tom. IX. conse({ucnce in any respect. (SeeChaps. 
 
 \>. 194.) One of these zarzuela.s, in XXIIl. note 1, XXIV. note 38.) Nor 
 
 whidi tlie portions that were sung are are two or three other of his trifles any 
 
 distinguished from the rest, is to be better.
 
 Chap. XXA^] ZARZUELAS. 509 
 
 Spain." Short pieces followed soon afterward, enire- 
 meses, that w^M-e sung in place of the ballads between 
 the acts of the inlays, and of which Benavente was the 
 most successful composer before 1645, when his works 
 were first published. But the earliest of the full-length 
 plays that was ever sung was Calderon's " Purpura de 
 la Rosa," which was produced before the court in 1660, 
 on occasion of the marriage of Louis the Fourteenth 
 with the Infanta Maria Theresa, — a compliment to 
 the distinguished personages of France who had come 
 to Spain in honor of that great solemnity, and whom 
 it was thought no more than gallant to amuse with 
 something like the operas of Quinault and Lulli, wdiich- 
 were then the most admired entertainments at the 
 court of France. 
 
 From this time, as was natural, there was a tendency 
 to introduce singing on the Spanish stage, both in full- 
 length comedies and in farces of all kinds ; as may 
 easily be observed in Matos Fragoso, in Solis, and in 
 most of the other writers contemporary with the latter 
 part of Calderon's career. At last, under the manage- 
 ment of Diamante and Candamo, a separate modifica- 
 tion of the drama grew up, the subjects for which were 
 generally taken from ancient mythology, like those of 
 the " Circe " and " Arethusa " ; and when they 
 were not so taken, as in Diamante's * " Birth * 433 
 of Christ," they were still treated in a manner 
 much like that observed in the treatment of their fabu- 
 lous predecessors. 
 
 From this form of the drama to that of the proper 
 Italian opera was but a stej), and one the more easily 
 taken, as, from the period when the Bourbon family 
 succeeded the Austrian on the throne, the nation;d 
 characteristics heretofore demanded in whatever ap-
 
 510 Z AMOR A. [Period II. 
 
 peared on the Spanish stage had ceased to enjoy the 
 favor of the court and the higher classes. As early as 
 1705, therefore, something like an Italian opera was 
 established at Madrid, where, with occasional intervals 
 of suspension and neglect, it has ever since maintained 
 a doubtful existence, and where, of course, the old zar- 
 zuelas and their kindred musical farces have been more 
 and more discountenanced, until, in their original forms 
 at least, they have ceased to be heard.'^'-^ 
 
 Another of the poets who lived at this time and 
 wrote dramas that mai'k the decline of the Spanish 
 theatre is Antonio do Zamora, who has sometimes been 
 said to have been originally an actor ; who was after- 
 wards in the office of the Indies and in the royal house- 
 hold ;■ and whose dramatic career begins before the year 
 1700, though he did not die till after 1722, and prob- 
 ably had his principal success in the reign of Philip the 
 Fifth, before whom his plays were occasionally per- 
 formed in the Buen Retiro, as late as 1744. 
 
 Two volumes of his dramas were collected and pub- 
 lished, with a >solemn dedication and consecration of 
 them to their author's memory, on the ground of ren- 
 dering unto CjBsar the things which are Ca?sar's. They 
 are only seventeen in number, each longer than 
 * 434 had been common on * the Spanish stage in its 
 best days, and, in general, very heavy. Those 
 that are on religious subjects sink into farce, with the 
 
 ^ See "Selva sin Amor," with its EI Teatro Espanol, Poema Lirico, s. 1. 
 
 Preface, printed by Lope de Vega at 1802, 8vo, nota.s, p. 295 ; — C. Pellicer, 
 
 the end of his "Laurel de Apolo," Ma- Origen del Teatro, Tom. I. p. 268 ; — 
 
 drid, 1630, 4to ; — Benavente, Joco- and Stefano Arteaga, Teatro Musicale 
 
 Seria, 1645, and Valladolid, 1653, 12mo, Italiano, Bologna, Svo, Tom. I., 1785, 
 
 where such pieces are called cntrcmcses ]>. 241. The hust is an excellent book, 
 
 cnntados ; — Calderon's Purpura de la written by one of the Jesuits driven 
 
 Rosa; — Luzan Poetica, Lib. III. c. from Spain by Charles III., and who 
 
 1 ; — Diamante's LaVjyrinto de Creta, died at Paris in 1 799. The second 
 
 jirinted as early as 1667, in the Coim-- edition (Veuezia) is the amplest and 
 
 dias Escogidas, Tom. XXVII. ; — Parra, best.
 
 Chap. XXV.] ZAMOllA. CANIZARES. 511 
 
 exception of "Judas Iscariot," which is too full of wild 
 horrors to permit it to be amusing. The best of the 
 whole number is, probably, the one entitled " All Debts 
 must be paid at Last," which is an alteration of Tirso 
 de Molina's " Don Juan," skilfully made ; — a remark- 
 able drama, in which the tread of the marljle statue is 
 heard with more solemn effect than it is in any other 
 of the many plays on the same subject. 
 
 But notwithstanding the merit of this and two or 
 three others, especially the "Hechizado por Fuerza," 
 it must be admitted that Zamora's plays — of which 
 above forty are extant, and of which many were acted 
 at the court with applause — are very wearisome. 
 They are crowded with long directions to the actors, 
 and imply the use of much imperfect machinery ; both 
 of them unwelcome symptoms of a declining dramatic 
 literature. Still, Zamora writes with facility, and shows 
 that, under favorable circumstances, he might have 
 trodden with more success in the footsteps of Calderon, 
 whom he plainly took for his model. But he came too 
 late, and, while striving to imitate the old masters, 
 fell into their faults and extravagances, without giving 
 token of the fresh spirit and marvellous invention in 
 which their peculiar power resides.^^ 
 
 Others followed the same direction with even less 
 success, like Pedro Francisco Lanini, Antonio Mar- 
 tinez, Pedro de Rosete, and Francisco de Villegas ; '^* 
 but the person who continued longest in the paths 
 opened by Lope and Calderon was Joseph de Cani- 
 
 3^ Comedias de Antonio de Zamora, tirely forgotten, are found in the old 
 Madrid, 1744, 2 torn., 4to. The royal collection of Comedias E.scogidas, pub- 
 authority to print the plays gives also lished between 1652 and 1704 ; e. g. 
 a right to print the lyrical works, but of Lanini, nine plays ; of Martinez, 
 I think they never appeared. His life eighteen ; and of Koscti^ and Villegas, 
 is in Baena, Tom. I. p. 177, and notices eleven each. I am not aware that any 
 of him in L. F. Moratin, Obras, ed. one of them deserves to be rescued 
 Acad., Tom. II., Prologo, pp. v-viii. from the oblivion in which they are all 
 
 ^* These and many others, now en- sunk.
 
 512 
 
 CAXlZAKE^i. 
 
 [I'KUIOl) II. 
 
 zares, a poet of Madrid, boni in 10T(\, who began to 
 write for the stage when he was only fourteen years 
 
 old. — who was known as one of its most 
 * 435 * favored authors for above forty years, pushing 
 
 his success fer into the eighteenth century, — 
 and who died in 1750. His pLays are nearly all m the 
 old forms.^ A few of those on historical sul)jects are 
 not without interest, such as '• The Tales of the Great 
 Captain," " Charles the Fifth at Tunis." and '' The Suit 
 of Fernando Cortes." The best of his efforts in this 
 class is, however, " El Picarillo en Espana," on the 
 adventures of a sort of Faulconbridge, Frederic de 
 Bracamonte, w^ho claimed that his father had been un- 
 justly deprived of the Canaries, which he had held 
 for John 11., as if he were himself their king. But 
 Canizares, on the whole, had most success in plays 
 ibunded on character-drawin";, introduced a little be- 
 
 ^ Two volumes of the plays of Cani- 
 zares were coUeuted, but more cau still 
 lie found sejiarate, and many are lost. 
 In Moratiu's list, tlie titles of above 
 seventy are brought together. Notiees 
 of his life are in Baena, Tom. 111. p. 
 69, and in lluerta, Teatro, Parte I. 
 Tom. II. p. 347. 
 
 Canizares was, at one time, a soldier, 
 like so many others of his cultivated and 
 aceomiilished countrymen ; for Span- 
 iards, from the time of Alfonso el Sabio 
 to that of Charles IV., iiave, it should 
 always be remembered, united, to a de- 
 gree elsewhere unknown, the practical 
 earnestness that belongs to the lives of 
 statesmen and .soldiers with the grace 
 and glory of letters. Garcilasso de la 
 Vega, saciificed in the south of France, 
 Lofie de Vega, lighting in the Armada, 
 Cervantes at Li-panto, Ercilla in tin; 
 Amies, Caldcron in Catalonia, Men- 
 floza at the Council of Trent, Quevedo 
 at Najiles, and a hundred others, vouch 
 for this singular union in a way not to 
 be mistaken or overlooked. They ac- 
 count, too, I think, for many of the 
 ini]M'rfections of Sjianish literature, and 
 for the fre(|uent failure of its authors to 
 
 finish what they had begun ; for even 
 many of tho-se who had not grave duties 
 to interrui)t or break off their literary 
 asjtirations had their thoughts occu- 
 jiied and distr;i(ted with other i)urpose3 
 in life, to which they had been trained 
 as to their main duties, rather tlian to 
 anything letters could offer. The re- 
 ligious element, too, with its severe 
 demands and cruel intolerance, should 
 come into any fair estimate of the diffi- 
 culties encountered by men of elegant 
 culture and tastes in Spain, with the 
 diversion it ne(-essarily pressed upon 
 their inclinations and lives. Luis de 
 Leon, Virues, Juan de Avila, Zurita, 
 Jlorales, and numberless more, are cases- 
 in point, if the whole national charac- 
 ter were not in fact a consistent exhi- 
 bition of it. So that it seems to me 
 much more remarkable that Spani.sh 
 literature became what we now find it 
 to have been, than that some of its 
 dej)artments had so little success, and 
 that so many individuals failed to ac- 
 complish what they had begun. It 
 shows a great force of genius in th« 
 Spanish jieojile, I think, tliat they got 
 ou at all ami made a literature.
 
 CiiAT. X.W.] CANIZARES. 513 
 
 fore his tinio l)y Morcto and Roxas, and commonly 
 called, as we have noticed, " Comedias de Figuron." 
 His happiest specimens in this class are " The Famous 
 Kitchen-Wench," taken from the story of Cervantes, 
 '• The Momitaineer jit Court," and '• Dumine Lucas," 
 where he drew from the life about him, and selected 
 his subjects from the poor, presumptuous, decayed 
 nobility, with which the court of Madrid was then 
 infested.'"*^ 
 
 Still, with this partial success as a poet, and with a 
 popularity that made him of consequence to the actors, 
 Canizares shows more distinctly than any of his prede- 
 cessors or contemporaries the marks of a declining 
 drama. As we turn over the seventy or eighty plays 
 he has left us, we are constantly reminded of the 
 towers and temples of the South of Europe, 
 which, during the Middle Ages, * were built * 436 
 from fragments of the nobler edifices that had 
 preceded them, proving at once the magnificence of 
 the age in which the original structures were reared, 
 and the decay of that of which such relics and frag- 
 ments were the chief glory. The plots, intrigues, and 
 situations in the dramas of Canizares are generally 
 taken from Lope, Calderon, Moreto, Matos Fragoso, 
 and his other distinguished predecessors, to wdiom, not 
 
 ^•^ Tlie "Doniine Lucas" of Canizares the Buen Retiio, on occasion of the 
 
 has no resemblance to the lively play marriage of the Infanta Maria Liiisa 
 
 with the same title by Lope de Vega, with the Archduke Peter Leopold, in 
 
 in the seventeenth volume of his Come- 1765. 
 
 dias, 162], which, he says in the Dedi- The "Domine Lucas," which attacks 
 
 cation, is founded on fact, and which awkward slovenly men of letters making 
 
 was reprinted in Madrid, 1841, 8vo, high pretensions, has given a nickname 
 
 with a Preface, attacking, not only to the whole class it ridicules. "Asi 
 
 Canizares, but several of the author's se vio en Roma llamar Trasones a todos 
 
 contemporaries, in a most truculent los valadrones ; — Tartufos en Fi'anc;ia 
 
 manner. The "Domine Lucas" of a todos los hipocritas ; — y acii en Es- 
 
 Canizares, however, is worth readiag, •|)ana en vieudo algun estudianton estra- 
 
 particularly in an edition where it is falario le apellidamos, Domine Lucas." 
 
 accompanied by its two entrem.eses, im- Reflexiones sobre la Leccion critica, 
 
 properly called snymtea; — the whole ec, por J. P. Foriier, Madrid, 1786, 
 
 newly arranged for representation in p. 43. 
 vol.. II. 33
 
 514 VARIOUS DRAMATISTS. [rKuioD IL 
 
 without tlie warrant of many exaniples on the Spanish 
 stage, he resorted as to rieh and ancient monuments, 
 Avliich could still yield to the demands of his age 
 materials such as the age itself could no longer fur- 
 nish from its own resources.^' 
 
 It would he easy to add the names of not a few 
 other writers for the Spanish stage who were contem- 
 porar}' with Canizares, and, like him, shared in the 
 common decline of the national drama, or contrihuted 
 to it. Such were Juan de Vera y Yillaroel, Inez de la 
 Cruz, Antonio Tellez de Azevedo, and others yet less 
 distinguished while they lived, and long ago forgotten. 
 But writers like these had no real influence on the 
 character of the theatre to which they attached them- 
 selves. This, in its proper outlines, always remained 
 as it was left b}^ Lope de Vega and Calderon, who, by a 
 remarkable concurrence of circumstances, maintained, 
 as far as it was in secular hands, an almost unques- 
 tioned control over it, while they lived, and, at their 
 death, had impressed upon it a character which it nev- 
 er lost, till it ceased to exist altogether.^ 
 
 3" The habit of using too freel)' the XXI., note 25) by publishing in Riva- 
 
 works of their predecessors was com- deneyra's Biblioteea (Tom. XLVII. 
 
 mon on the Spanish stage from an early and XLIX., 1858, 1859) two more vol- 
 
 period. Cervantes says, in lt)17, (Per- umes of it, coming down to Canizares. 
 
 siles, Lib. III. c. 2,) that .some compa- The plays, amounting to above sixt}% 
 
 nies kept poets expressly to new-vamp are, as might be e.\i)ected from the 
 
 old jilays ; and so many had done it period, of very une()ual merit. But we 
 
 before him, that Canizares seems to have are glad to have them. The literary 
 
 escaped censure, though nobody, cer- notices and alphabetical lists tliat open 
 
 tainly, had gone so far. each volume are, also, valuable for their 
 
 Don Ramon Mesonero Romanos has facts, but ill-written and showing little 
 
 continued the work he began on the judgment or taste, 
 
 school of Lojte de Vega (see ante, Chap. ** See Appendix (F).
 
 * CHATTER XX YI. *437 
 
 CHARACTER OF THE SPANISH DRAMA. THE AUTOR, OR MANAGER. THE 
 
 WRITERS FOR THE STAGE. THE ACTORS, THEIR NUMBER, SUCCESS, AND 
 
 CONDITION. PERFORM.VNCES BY DAYLIGHT. THE STAGE. THE COURT- 
 YARD, MOSQUETEROS, GRADAS, CAZCELA, AND APOSENTOS. THE AUDI- 
 ENCES. PLAY-BILLS, AND TITLES OF PLAYS. REPRESENTATIONS, BALLADS, 
 
 LOAS, .TORNADAS, ENTREMESES, SAYNETES, AND DANCES. BALLADS DANCED 
 
 AND SUNG. XACARAS, ZARABANDAS, AND ALEMANAS. POPULAR CHARAC- 
 TER OF THE WHOLE. GREAT NUMBER OF WRITERS AND PLAYS. 
 
 The most prominent, if not the most imj)ortant, char- 
 acteristic of the Spanish drama, at the period of its 
 widest success, was its nationality. In all its various 
 forms, mcTuding the religious plays, and in all its mani- 
 fold subsidiary attractions, down to the recitation of old 
 ballads and the exhibition of popular dances, it ad- 
 dressed itself more to the whole people of the country 
 which produced it than any other theatre of modern 
 times. The Church, as \ve have seen, occasionally 
 interfered, and endeavored to silence or to restrict it. 
 But the drama was too deeply seated in the general 
 favor to be much modified, even by a power that over- 
 shadowed nearly everything else in the state ; and 
 during the whole of the seventeenth century, — the 
 centvuy which immediately followed the severe legis- 
 lation of Philip the Second and his attempts to control 
 the character of the stage, — the Spanish drama was 
 really in the hands of the mass of the people, and its 
 writers and actors were such as the popular will re- 
 quired them to be.^ 
 
 1 Mariana, in his treatise "De Spec- nestly insists that actors of the low and 
 taculis," Cap. VII., (Tractatus Se])tein, gross character he gives to them shouhl 
 Coloniae Agi-ippinte, 1609, folio,) ear- not be permitted to perform in the
 
 516 THE AUTOK. [Peuiod II. 
 
 At the head of each company of actors was their 
 Alitor. The name descended from the time of 
 * 438 Lope de Rueda, * when the writer of the rude 
 farces then in fovor collected about him a body 
 of pla3'ers to perform what should rather be called his 
 dramatic dialogues than his proper dramas, in the pub- 
 lic squares ; — a practice soon imitated in France, 
 where Hardy, the "Author," as he styled himself, of 
 his own company, produced, between 1600 and 1630, 
 ajjout five hundred rude plays and farces, often taken 
 from Lope de Vega, and whatever was most popular at 
 the same period in Spain. ^ But while Hardy was at 
 the height of his success and preparing the way for 
 Corneille, the canon in Don Quixote had already recog- 
 nized' in Spain the existence of two kinds of authors, 
 
 — the authors who wrote and the authors who acted ;^ 
 
 — a distinction familiar from the time when Lope de 
 A^ega appeared, and one tliat was never afterwards 
 overlooked. At any rate, from that time actors and 
 managers were quite as rarely writers for the stage in 
 Spain as in other countries.* 
 
 The relations between the dramatic poets and the 
 managers and actors were not more agreeable in Spain 
 than elsewhere. Figueroa, who was familiar with the 
 
 churches, or to represent sacred Yi]ays ^ D. Quixote, Parte I. c. 48. The 
 
 anywhere ; and that the theatres should Primera dama, or the actress of first 
 
 be closed on Sundays. But he pro- jiarts, was sometimes called the Autora. 
 
 duced no effect against the popular Diablo Cqjuelo, Tranco V. 
 
 passion. * Villegas was one of the last of the 
 
 '^ For Hardy and his extraordinary authors who were managers. He wrote, 
 
 career, which was almost entirely found- we are told, tifty-four i)lays, and died 
 
 ed on the Spanish theatre, .see the about 1(500. (Koxas, Viage, ItJH, f. 
 
 " Parfait.s," or any other history of the 21.) After this, the next example of 
 
 French stage. Corneille, in his "Re- any prominence is Claramonte, who was 
 
 marks on Melite," says that, when he an auJor when he wrote for the stage, 
 
 began, he had no guide but a little and died about 1622. The managing 
 
 common .sense and the example of nulor was .sometimes the object of ridi- 
 
 Hardy, and a few others no more cule in the jilay his own (;oinpaiiy jier- 
 
 rcgular than he was. The example forme(l, as he is in the "Tres Edades 
 
 of Hai-dy led Corneille directly to S]iain del Mundo " of Luis Vclez de Guevara, 
 
 for matfiials, and there, as we know, where he is the (p-ncitiso. Comedias 
 
 he sought them freely. Escogidas, Tom. XXXVlll., 1*572.
 
 Chap. XXVI.] THE ACTORS. 517 
 
 subject, says that the writers for the theatre were 
 obHged to flatter the heads of comiDanies, in order to 
 obtain a hearing from the public, and that they were 
 often treated with coarseness and contempt, especially 
 when their plays were read and adapted to the stage 
 in presence of the actors who were to perform them.^ 
 Solorzano — himself a dramatist — gives similar ac- 
 counts, and adds the story of a poet, who was 
 not only rudely, but cruelly, abused by * a com- * 439 
 pany of players, to whose humors their aidor or 
 manager had abandoned him.*^ And even Lope de 
 Vega and Calderon, the master-spirits of the time, 
 complain bitterly of the way in which they were 
 trifled with and defrauded of their rigl>ts and repu- 
 tation, both by the managers and by the booksellers.' 
 At the end of the drama, its author therefore some- 
 times announced his name, and, with more or less of 
 affected humility, claimed the work as his own.^ But 
 this was not a custom. Almost nniformly, however, 
 when the audience was addressed at all, — and that 
 was seldom neglected at the conclusion of a drama, — 
 
 rero, 1617, ff. 112-116. » Thus, Mira de Mescua, at the con- 
 
 " "Garduna de Sevilla," near the du.sion of " The Death of St. Lazarus, " 
 
 end, and the " Bachiller Trapaza," c. (Comedias Escogidas, Tom. IX., 1657, 
 
 15. Cervantes, just as he is finishing his p. 167,) says: • — 
 "Coloquio de los Perros," tells a story Here ends the play 
 
 somewhat similar ; so that authors were Whose wondrous tale Mira de Meseua"wrote 
 
 early ill-treated by the actors. '''o "''*"i ^^^ many. Pray forgive our faults. 
 
 J See the Preface and Dedication of And Francisco de Leyba finishes his 
 
 the Arcadia, by Lope, as well as "Amadis y Ninuea" (Comedias Esco- 
 
 other passages noted m his Life; — the gklas, Tom. XL., 1675, f. 118) with 
 
 letter ot Calderon to the Duke of Vera- these words ■ 
 
 guas ; — his Life by Vera Tassis, etc. 
 
 It should be noted, however, that the ?«?. ^tTnnt f''^.'''' t"""^ !''''''■ ''.™'k^' . 
 
 t. 1 ' . . T T > And at your feet asks, — not a victor shout, — 
 
 price ot a play was rising. In Lope s But rather pardon for his many faults, 
 
 time, as we have seen, (ante, p. 270, ^ ^ ^ • , i.r 
 
 note 33, ) it was five hundr.^.l rials ; Init \} generah however, as in the Mayor 
 
 in Calderon's time it was eight hundred, J,''"?^"'''' °f A^'^'^'"'' ^'^^'^}\ '^"^^ "^ 
 
 even for the first ottered by an author ^^'^ ^^^"^ T.™ levantarse of Matos, 
 
 and before its merits were known : — Cancer, and Moreto, the annunciation 
 
 „...,., IS simple, and made, apparently, to 
 
 Sin saber si es buena o mala, . . .1 • i^ p i, li i • 1 
 
 Ocho cientos reaies cuesta juotect the rights of the author, which. 
 
 La primera vez. in the Seventeenth century, were so 
 
 Nadie fie su Secreto, Jorn. II. little respected.
 
 r)18 THE ACTORS. [Pkuiod II. 
 
 it was saluted with the grave and flattering title of 
 '• Senate." 
 
 Nor does the condition of the actors seem to have 
 been one which could be envied by the poets who 
 wrote for them. Their numbers and influence, indeed^ 
 soon became im})osing, under the great impulse given 
 to the drama in the beoinninti; of the seventeenth cen- 
 turv. When Lope de Vega first appeared as a dra- 
 matic writer at Madrid, the only theatres he found were 
 two unslieltered court-yards, which depended on such 
 strolling companies of players as occasionally deemed 
 it for their interest to visit the capital. Before he 
 died, there were, besides the court-yards in Madrid, 
 
 several theatres of great magnificence in the 
 * 440 royal palaces, and multitudinous * bodies of 
 
 actors, comprehending in all above a thousand 
 persons.^ And half a centurj^ later, at the time of Cal- 
 deron's death, when the Spanish drama had taken all 
 its attributes, the passion for its representations had 
 spread into every part of the kingdom, until there was 
 hardly a village, we are told, that did not possess some 
 kind of a theatre.^^ Nay, so pervachng and uncontrolled 
 was the eagerness for dramatic exhibitions, that, not- 
 withstanding the scandal it excited, secular comedies 
 of a very equivocal complexion were represented by 
 performers from the i)ul)lic theatres in some of the 
 principal monasteries ol' the kingdom. ^^ 
 
 ® Don Qiiixott', eil. Pellicer, 1797, performed a play liefore him, partly in 
 Tom. IV. p. 110, note. One account Latin and ])artly in Portuguese, at their 
 says there were three hundred eomi»a- College of San Antonio; — an account 
 nies of actors in Spain about 1636; but of which is ju;iven in the " Relacion de 
 tliis .seems incredible, if it means com- la Real Tragicomedia con que los Pa- 
 panies of jiersons who live bj' acting. dres de la Compafiia de Jesus recihieron 
 Pantqja, Sobre Comedias, Murcia, 1814, a la Magestad Catolica," etc., ])or Juan 
 4to, Tom. I. ]). 28. Saidina Mimoso, etc., Lisboa, 1620, 
 1" Pellicer, Ongen de la.s Comedia.s, 4to, — its author being, 1 believe, An- 
 1804, Tom. I. p. 18.5. tonio de Sousa. Add to this that Ma- 
 il Ibid., ].p. 2-26-228. When Philip riana (De Spectaculis, c. 7) says that 
 III. visiteil Li.sbon in 1619, the Jesuits the cnlrcuicscs and other exhibitiona
 
 t'HAi'. XXVI.] THE ACTORS. 519 
 
 Ofcour.se, out of so large a body of actors, all stiug- 
 gling for public favor, some became famous. Among 
 the more distinguished were Agustin de Roxas, who 
 wrote the gay travels of a company of comedians ; 
 Eo({ue de Figueroa, Melchor de A^illalba, and Rios, 
 Lope's favorites ; Pinedo, much praised by Tirso de 
 Molina and Cascales ; Alonso de Olmedo and Sebastian 
 Prado, who were rivals for public applause in the time 
 of Calderon ; Juan Rana, who was the best comic actor 
 during the reigns of Philip the Third and Philip the 
 Fourth, and amused the audiences by his own extem- 
 poraneous wit, delighting Lady Fanshawe, when he 
 was nearly eighty years old ; the two Morales and 
 Josefa Vaca, wife of the elder of them ; Barbara Coro- 
 nel, the Amazon, who preferred to appear as a man ; 
 Maria de Cordoba, praised by Quevedo and the Count 
 Villamediana ; and Maria Calderon, who, as the 
 mother of * the second Don John of Austria, * 441 
 figured in affairs of state, as well as in those of 
 the stage. These and some others enjoj^ed, no doubt, 
 that ephemeral, but brilliant, reputation which is gen- 
 erally the best reward of the best of their class ; and 
 enjoyed it to as high a degree, perhaps, as an}^ per- 
 sons that have appeared on the stage in more modern 
 times.^^ 
 
 between the acts of the plays, perfomied Lady of the Eosary. Alonso Fernan- 
 
 in the most holy religious houses, were dez," Hist, de Plasencia, Madrid, fol., 
 
 often of a gross and shameless character, 1629, p. 112. 
 
 — a statement which occurs partly in But perhaps tlie most bold and oflen- 
 
 the same words, in his treatise "De .si ve instance of the misu.se of a church 
 
 Kege," Lib. III. c. 16. In his " Juegos for dramatic purpo.ses w;vs when the 
 
 Publicos," a translation made by him- "Casa Confusa," a very free play of 
 
 self from his "De Spectaculi-s, " but the Count de Lemos, now lo.st, was 
 
 differing from that w'ork .somewhat, he acted in tlie church of San Bias at 
 
 says (c. 12) that the grossly indecent Lerni a before Philip J II. and his court 
 
 Zarabandas were sometimes danced in in 1618, ending with the scandalous 
 
 nunneries during the Corpus Christi. and voluptuous dance of the Zaraban- 
 
 In the great and rich convent of Sau da. See Barrera ad verb. Lcmos, and 
 
 Vicente in Plasencia, plays were annu- note 60 to this chapter, 
 
 ally performed at the Festival of our ^^ {_• pdlicer, On'gen, Tom. II., ^as-
 
 520 
 
 THE ACTORS. 
 
 [Pkiiiod II. 
 
 But, regarded as a bod\', the Spanish actors seem to 
 have been anythhig hut respectable. In general, they 
 Avere of a low and vulo:ar cast in society, — so low, that, 
 for this reason, they were at one period forbidden to 
 have women associated with tliem.^'^ The rabble, in- 
 deed, sympathized with them, and sometimes, when 
 tlieir conduct called for punishment, protected them 
 b}^ force from the arm of the law ; but ])et\veen 1644 
 and 1649, when their number in the metropolis had 
 become very great, and thej' constituted no less than 
 forty companies, full of disorderly persons and vaga- 
 bonds, their character did more than anything else to 
 endanger the privileges of the drama, which with diffi- 
 culty evaded the restrictions their riotous lives 
 * 442 brought upon it.'* One * proof of their gross 
 
 sim, Figueroa, Plaqa Univei-sal, 1615, 
 f. 322, b, aud Mad. d'Aulnoy, Voyage 
 en Espagne, ed. 1693, Tom. I. ]>. 97. — 
 Lope's I)edication of Domine Lucas, in 
 which Villalba acted, — Rio.s is reported 
 by Roxas to have improved the costumes 
 of the stage, — Pinedo is much praised 
 by Lope as well as Tirso, ex. gr. in 
 Lope's Peiegiino eu su Patiida, Lib. 
 IV., when- h.e .sa3's : — 
 
 Balta.'^ar Je Pinedo tenilra lama 
 
 Pue.< hace, sieiido I'rincipo en su Arte, 
 
 Alto? metaniorfoseos de su ro.stro, 
 
 Color, ojos, s«ntidos, voz, y efectos [afectcs?], 
 
 Tra^fonnando la gent*. 
 
 Pinedo, too, is in C;u5calcs, Tabla IIL, 
 161 6. One of the be.st actors of the best 
 period was Sebastian Prado, mentioned 
 above ; the .siime who, as head of a com- 
 pany, went to Paris after tlie jnarriagc 
 of Louis XIV. with the .Spanish hi- 
 fanta, in 1660, and played there twelve 
 years (Cha]ii»uzeau, Theatre Francai.s, 
 1674, 12n'o, ].i». 213, 214) ; — one of 
 the many proofs of the fashion and 
 spread of Sjianish Ijiterature at that 
 time. (C. Pellicer, Tom. I. p. 39.) 
 For Juan Rana, or Araiia, .see Lady 
 Fan.shawe's Memoirs, (IjOiidon, 1829, 
 8vo, i>. 236,) and fur Pedro Morales, 
 .see Navarrctc, Vida de ("ervantes (p. 
 .130). Man'a de Cordova is oftiMi men- 
 tioned witli admiratiuii, especially by 
 
 Calderon in the opening of the " Da ma 
 Duende," under her known sobriquet of 
 Avun-i/iJi. Otlier distinguished actors 
 of the seventeenth century are to be 
 found in a note of Clemencin to his 
 edition of D. Quixote, Parte IL c. 11, 
 and throughout the veiy imperfect work 
 of 0. Pellicer, Origen del Teatro, Ma- 
 drid, 1804. 
 
 1^ Alonso, Mozo de Muchos Amos, 
 Parte L, Barcelona, 1625, f. 141. A 
 little earlier, atz. 1618, Bisbe y Vidal 
 speaks of women on the stage fretjuent- 
 ly taking the ])aits of men (Tratado de 
 Comedias, f. 50) ; and from the direo 
 tions to the ]ilayers in the " Amadis y 
 Niquea" of Leyba, (Comedias E.scogida.s, 
 Tom. XL., 1675,) it appears that the 
 j)art of Amadis was expected to be 
 played always by a woman. 
 
 1* C. Pellicer, Origen, Tom. L p. 
 183, Tom. II. p. 29; and Navarro 
 Castellanos, Cartas Apologeticas contra 
 las Comedias, Madrid, 1684, 4to, pi». 
 256-258. "Take my adnce," says 
 Sancho to his master, after their un- 
 lucky encounter with the playere of the 
 jiuto Sacr<j/iiicnf.aA, — " take my advice, 
 and never pick a quarrel with play- 
 actors : they are privileged peojde. 1 
 have known one of them sent to jjri.son 
 for two murder.s, and £;et off scot-free. 
 For mark, your worship, as they are
 
 Chap. XXVI.] THE ACTOKS. 521 
 
 conduct is to ])e ibimd in its results. Many of them, 
 filled with compunction at their own shocking ex- 
 cesses, took refuge at last in a religious life, like 
 Prado, who became a devout priest, and Francisca Bal- 
 tasara, who died a hermit, almost in the odor of sanc- 
 tity, and was afterwards made the subject of a religious 
 play.^^ 
 
 They had, besides, many trials. They were obliged 
 to learn a great number of pieces to satisfy the de- 
 mands for novelty, which were more exacting on the 
 Spanish stage than any other; their rehejirsals Avere 
 severe and their audiences rude. Cervantes says 
 that their life was as hard as that of the Gypsies ; ^^ 
 and Roxas, who. knew all there was to be known on 
 the subject, says that slaves in Algiers were better off 
 than they were.^" 
 
 To all this we must add, that they were poorly paid, 
 and that their managers were almost always in debt. 
 But, like other forms of vagabond life, its freedom from 
 restraints made it attractive to not a few loose persons, 
 in a country like Spain, where it was difficult to find 
 liberty of any sort. This attraction, however, did not 
 last long. The drama fell in its consequence and pop- 
 ularity as rapidly as it had risen. Long before the end 
 of the century, it ceased to encourage or protect such 
 numbers of idlers as were at one time needed to sus- 
 
 gay fellows, full of fun, everybody fi- ^^ Roxas, Viage, 1614, f. 138. The 
 
 vers thein ; eveiybody defends, helps, necessities of the actors were so jjress- 
 
 and likes them ; especially if they be- ing, that they were paid their wages 
 
 long to the royal and authorized com- every night, as soon as tlie acting was 
 
 ])anies, where all or most of them dress over. 
 
 as if they were real princes." Don Un Representante cobra 
 
 Quixote, Parte II. c. 11, with the note Oada noehe !o que fr.na, 
 
 c r^^ • Y el Alitor pa<;a, aunque 
 
 of Clemencin. No hav dinero en la Caxa. 
 
 ^5 C. Pellicer, Origen, Tom. II. p. El Mejor Representante, Comedia.s EscoKidii.«s 
 
 53, and elsewhere throughout the vol- Tom. xxix., 1668, p 199. 
 
 lime. . , 
 
 16 Tn the tale of the " T i(>encia.ln Vi- '^^'' ^'^^"^ ^"^^ *^'^ '^''^^''^ '^'"•^ "'*-'^' • 
 
 . ,, ^'^^ ^^'' "' ^'^^ l^icenciauo V l- j,„^ ^,jg j,„„^ Manager must pa.y him uj). 
 
 driera. Although his treasure-chest is clear nf <oiM.
 
 522 THE CORRALES, OR TIIEATIJES. [Pi.i:ior. II. 
 
 tain its success ; ^- and in the reign of Charles the Sec- 
 ond it was not easy to collect three companies for 
 the festivities occasioned by his marriage.^^ Half a 
 century earlier, twenty would have striven for the 
 
 honor. 
 * 443 * During the whole of the successful period 
 
 of the drama in Spain, its exhibitions took place 
 in the da3'time. On the stages of the different palaces, 
 where, when Howell was in Madrid, in 1623,^" there 
 were regular representations once a week or oftener, it 
 was sometimes otherwise ; but the religious plays and 
 mdos, with all that were intended to be reall}^ popular, 
 were represented in broad daylight, — in the winter at 
 two, and in the summer at three, in the afternoon, 
 every day in the week.^^ Till near the middle of the 
 seventeenth centur^^ the scenery and o-eneral arrano-e- 
 ments of the theatre w^ere probably as good as they 
 were in France when Corneille appeared, or perhaps 
 better ; but in the latter part of it, the French stage 
 
 18 " Poudus iiiers rcipublicii;, at{|ue his letter, October 21, 1659, to his sis- 
 inutile," said Mariana, Ue Speetaciili.s, ter. Mad. de Motteville, in her Me- 
 c. 9. But the attiactioiis of this liber- moires d'Aime d'Aiitriche, ed. IZHO, 
 tine and vagabond life — vida lil)ertina Toui. V. pp. 360-362. From 1622 to 
 y vagamunda — are chai-acteristically 1685, jdays were constantly acted in 
 and trulj' set forth in the ftpuriou.'i some of the palaces before the court ; — 
 Second Part of Guzman de Alfarache, oftener, I think, on Sundays and Thurs- 
 Lib. 111. caj). 7. Mariana would have days than on other days. The price 
 all connected with it driven out of the ])aid the actors sounds rather mean foi- 
 kingdom, — a totius patriai tinibus e.\- royalty ; — two and tliree hundred rials 
 terminareutur quasi pestes certissimaj. at Hrst, or from ten to thirteen and a 
 De Kege, Lib. II. c. 6. third dollars; — later, more. When 
 
 ^' Hugalde y Parra, Origen del Te- the Prince of Wales, afterwards Charles 
 
 atro, p. 312. I., was there in 1623, on the madcaji 
 
 *^ Familiar Letteis, London, 1754, expedition with Buckingham, there was 
 
 8vo, Book I. Sect. 3, Letter 18. When es])ecial splendor in the representation 
 
 the Marechal de Orammont went to of plays before him. Plays were al.so 
 
 iladiid, in 1659, about the Peace of acted during the progres.ses or journeys 
 
 the Pyrenees and the marriage of Louis of the King and the Infantes, — once 
 
 XIV., he gave a .similar aecount of the in the Alhainbia, and twice on board 
 
 plays at the palace. The one he saw galleys in the bays of Villafranca and 
 
 was acted by the light of si.\ enormous Tarragona, — ■ .so great was the pa.ssion 
 
 WAX fl/nabe/iwx in silver chandeliers of for the stage in the seventeenth century. 
 
 ]irodigious size and magnificence. Tiie Schack, Nachtriige, 1854, p]i.. 66-76. 
 audience, of course, was small and for- ■■^' C. Pellicer, Origen, Tom. I. p. 220. 
 
 inal ; giave ami .stiff a.s [lo.ssible. See Aarsens, Voyivge, 1667, [>. 29.
 
 Chap. XXVI.] THE C'ORRALES, OU TIIEATKES. 523 
 
 was imclouljtecUy in advance of that at Madrid, and 
 Madame d'Anlnoy makes herself merry by telling her 
 friends that the Spanish sun was made of oiled paper, 
 and that in the play of " Alcina " she saw the devils 
 quietly climbing ladders out of the infernal regions, to 
 reach their places on the stage.^^ Plays that required 
 inore elaborate arrangements and machinery were 
 called comedias de rnido, — noisy or showy dramas, — 
 and are treated with little respect by Figueroa and 
 Luis Velez de Guevara, because it was thought un- 
 worth}^ of a poetical spirit to depend for success on 
 means so mechanical.^^ 
 
 * The stage itself, in the two principal the- * 444 
 atres of Madrid, was raised only a little from 
 the ground of the court-yard, where it was erected, 
 and there was no attempt at a separate orchestra, — 
 the musicians coming to the forepart of the scene 
 whenever they were wanted. Immediately in front 
 of the stage were a few benches, which afforded the 
 best places for those who bought single tickets, and 
 behind them was the unencumbered portion of the 
 court-yard, where the common file were obliged to 
 stand in the open air. The crowd there was generally 
 great, and the j)ersons composing it were called, from 
 their standing posture and their rude bearing, mosqiie- 
 teros, or infantry. They constituted the most formida- 
 ble and disorderly part of the audience, and were the 
 portion that generally determined the success of new 
 
 ^■^ Relation tlu Voyage d'Espagne, value concerning the S])anisli Theatre 
 
 par Madame la Contesse d'Anlnoy, La and it.s decorations may be found in 
 
 Haye, 1693, 18mo, Tom. III. p. 21,— Luis Lamarca, Teatro de Valencia, 1848, 
 
 the same who wrote beautiful fairy pj). 21-29, with the notes at the end. 
 
 tales. She was there in 1679-80; But it sliould be borne in mind while 
 
 but Aarsens gives a similar account of reading Lamarca, that the theatre at 
 
 things twenty-five years earlier (Voy- Valencia was probably always inferior 
 
 age, 1667, p. 59). in its appointments to cither of those at 
 
 ^ Figueroa, Pasagero, and Guevara, Madrid. 
 Diablo Cojuelo. Information of some
 
 524 THE AUDIENCES. [PF.raoD IL 
 
 plays."-* One of their body, a shoemaker, ^vho in 1680 
 reigned supreme in the court-yard over the opinions 
 of those around him, reminds us at once of the critical 
 trunk-maker in x\ddison.^^ x\nother, who was offered 
 a hundred rials to favor a play about to be acted, an- 
 swered proudly, that he would first see whether it was 
 good or not, and, after all, hissed it.-*^ Sometimes the 
 author himself addressed them at the end of his pla}^, 
 and stooped to ask the applause of this lowest portion 
 
 of the audience. But this was rare.^' 
 * 445 * Behind the sturdy mosqueteros were the 
 
 gradas, or rising seats, for the men, and the 
 cameld, or " stewpan," where the women were strictly 
 enclosed, and sat crowded together by themselves. 
 Above all these different classes were the desvanes and 
 aposentos, or l)alconies and rooms, whose open, shop-like 
 windows extended round three sides of the court-yard 
 in different stories, and were filled by those persons of 
 both sexes who could afford such a luxury, and who 
 not unfrequently thought it one of so much conse- 
 quence, that they held it as an heirloom from genera- 
 tion to generation.^ The ajjosentos were, in fact, com- 
 
 2* C. Pellicer Ori'^en, Tom. I. pp. Perhaps we should not have expected 
 
 53 55 63 68. " such a condesceusion from Soli's, but 
 
 25 Mad.' d'AulnoT, Voyage, Tom. III. he stooped to it. At the conclusion of 
 
 p. 21. Spectator, No. 235. his well-known "Doctor Carlino," (Co- 
 
 2« Aarsens, Relation, at the end of niedias, 1716, p. 262,) he turns to them, 
 
 his Voyage, 1667, p. 60. saying: — 
 
 ^ Manuel Morchon, at the end of his And here expires my pl.iy If it has plea-sed, 
 
 " Vitoria del Amor," (Comedias Escogi- Let the SeBores Mosqueteros cry a victor 
 
 das, Tom. IX., 1657, p. 242, ) says : - ^^ **« "urial. 
 
 Most honorable Mosqueteros, here Calderon did the same at the end of his 
 
 i)on M.iniu-1 Mor'hon, in gentlest form, "Galan Fantasiua," but in jest. Every- 
 
 Be»--e<h.-s you to -^nve him, a.s an alms thing, indeed, tliat we know about the 
 
 At1^t;'rThVg^^"u.uiuU'ow'to&you. raosqucO:ros sliows that their influence 
 
 was great on the theatre in the theatre s 
 
 In the same way, Antonio de Huerta, -^^.^ j^^^.j, j„ tj,^. i.i„hteenth century 
 
 sneaking of his " Cmoo Blancas de Juan ^^.^ ^^^.^^^ ^,„i j^ Governing everything. 
 EsperaenDios," (lliid., Tom. XXXIl., 28 Aarsens, Helation, j.. 59. Zavaleta, 
 
 1669, p. 179,) addresses them:— j^-^^ ^\^. Fi,.sta por la Tardc, Madrid, 
 
 And should it now a Tictor cry deserre, 1660, 12mo, pp. 4, 8, 9. C. Pellicer, 
 
 PenoresMos-jUeteroF, you will here, Tom. I. Mad. d'AulnOV, Tom. III. p. 
 In chantv, Touchsfife topve me one; — . , , -: ,, ,™ ' 
 
 That is, in case the play has pleased you weU. 22, says ol the tazuela : loutes
 
 Cjiap. XXVI.] THE AUDIENCES. 525 
 
 modious rooms, and tlio ladies who resorted to them 
 generally went masked, as neither the actors nor the 
 audience were always so decent that the lady-like 
 modesty of the more courtly portion of society might 
 be willing to countenance them.'-^ 
 
 It was deemed a distinction to have free access to the 
 theatre j and persons who cared little about the price 
 of a ticket struggled hard to obtain it;^*^ Those who 
 paid at all paid twice, — at the outer door, where the 
 manager sometimes collected his claims in person, and 
 at the inner one, where an ecclesiastic collected what 
 belonged to the hospitals, under the gentler name of 
 ahns.^^ The audiences were often noisy and unjust. 
 Cervantes intimates this, and Lope directly complains 
 of it. Suarez de Figueroa says, that rattles, crackers, 
 bells, whistles, and keys were all put in requisi- 
 tion, * when it was desired to make an uproar ; * 446 
 and Benavente, in a loa spoken at the opening 
 of a theatrical campaign at Madrid by Roque, the 
 friend of Lope de A^ega, deprecates the ill-humor of all 
 the various classes of his audience, from the fashion- 
 able world in the (ijmsenios to the mosqueleros in the 
 court-yard ; though he adds, with some mock dignity, 
 that he little fears the hisses which he is aware must 
 
 les dames d'une mediocre vertu s'y "Sdtira contra los Abusos en el Arte 
 
 inettent et tons les grands Seigneurs y de la Declaniacion Teatral," (Madrid, 
 
 vont pour causer avec elles." 1834, 12mo,) says : — 
 
 ^9 Guillen de Castro, " Mai Casados Tal vez alguna insipida mozuela 
 de Valencia," Jorn. II. It may he De ti se premie ; mas si el Prtdo brama, 
 worth notice, perhaps, that the tradi- Que te vale un rincon de la Ca^weta." 
 tions of the Spanish theatre are still But this part of the theatrs; is more re- 
 true to its origin ; — aposentos, or apart- spectable than it was in the seventeenth 
 ments, being still the name for the boxes ; century. 
 
 paiio, or court-yard, that of the pit ; and ^ Zabaleta, Dia de Fiesta por la 
 
 mosqueteros, or musketeers, that of tlu^ Tarde, p. 2. 
 
 persons who fill the pit, and who still '^^ Cervantes, Viage al Parnaso, 1784, 
 claim many privileges, as the successors p. 148. Other small sums were ]iaid for 
 of those who stood in the heat of the access to other parts of the Palio. The 
 old court-yard. As to tlie cazuda, apusento.i were, apparently, a costly lux- 
 Breton de los Herreros, in his spirited ury. Pellicer, 1. 98-100.
 
 526 
 
 AUDIENCES. 
 
 PLAY-BILLS. 
 
 r Period IL 
 
 follow such a defiance.*- AVlieii the audience meant 
 to applaud, they cried " Victor ! " and were no less 
 tumultuous and unrul}^ than Avhen they hissed.'^'^ In 
 Cervantes's time, after the play was over, if it had 
 been successful, the author stood at the door to receive 
 the congratulations of the crowd as they came out ; 
 and, later, his name was placarded and paraded at the 
 corners of the streets with an annunciation of his 
 triumph.'^^ 
 
 Cosme de Oviedo, a well-known manager at Granada, 
 was the first who used advertisements for announcincr 
 tlie play that was to be acted. This was about the 
 year 1600. Half a century afterwards, the condition 
 of such persons was still so humble, that one of the 
 best of them went round the city and posted his play- 
 bills himself, which were, probably, written, and not 
 printed."^ From an early period they seem to have 
 
 o-iven to acted plavs the title which full-lenirth 
 * 447 Spanish dramas almost * uniformly l)ore during 
 
 the seventeenth century- and even afterwards, 
 
 3'^ Cervantes, Prologo a las Comcdias. 
 Lopc!, Prefaces to several of his plays. 
 Figueroa, Pasagero, 1617, p. 10.5. lieiia- 
 vente, Joco-Seria, Valladolid, 1653, 
 12ino, f. 81. One of the ways in wliich 
 the audiences expressed their disappro- 
 bation was, as Cervantes intimates, by 
 throwing cucumbers (pejnnos) at the 
 actors. 
 
 ^ Mad. d'Aulnoy, Voyage, Tom. I. p. 
 5.5. Tirso de Molina, Deleytar, Madrid, 
 1765, 4to, Tom. II. p. 333. At the end 
 of a play the icholfi audience is not un- 
 fre(iuently ajtpealed to for a "Victor" 
 by the second-rate authors, as we have 
 seen the moxqueteros were sometimes, 
 though rarely. Diego de Figueroa, at 
 the conclusion of his " Hija del Me- 
 .sonero," (Comedias Kscogidas, Tom. 
 XIV., 1662, p. 182,) asks for it as for 
 an aliris, " Dadle un Vitor de limosna" ; 
 and Hodrigo Enriciuez, in his "Sufrir 
 mas por (juerer nienos," (Tom. X., 1658, 
 p. 222, ) a.sks for it as for the veils given 
 to servants in a gaming-house, " \'en- 
 
 ga uu Vitor de barato." Sometimes a 
 good deal of ingenuity is used to bring 
 m the word Vitor \\x^t at the end of the 
 piece, so that it shall be echoed by the 
 audience without an o])en demand for 
 it, as it is by Calderon in his " Amado 
 y Aborrecido," and in the " Difunta 
 Pleyteada" of Francisco de Koxas. But, 
 in general, when it is asked for at all, 
 it is rather claimed as a right. Once, 
 in " Lealtad contra su Key," by Juan 
 de Villegas, (Comedias Escogidas, Tom. 
 X., 1658,) the two actois wlio end the 
 piece impertinently ask the applause 
 for themselves, and not for the author ; 
 a jest which was, no doubt, well re- 
 ceived. 
 
 ^ Cervantes, Viage, 1784, p. 138. 
 Novelas, 1783, Tom. I. p. 40. 
 
 35 Roxas, Viage, 1614, f. 51. Bena- 
 vente, Joco-Seria, 1653, f. 78. Alonso, 
 Mozo de Muchos Amos ; — by which 
 (Tom. I. f. 137) it appears that the 
 placards were written as late as 1624, 
 in Seville.
 
 OttAP. XXVI.] REPRESEXTATIOXS. 527 
 
 — that of comcdla ftunom ; though we must except 
 from this remark the case of Tirso de Mohna, who 
 amused himself with calUng more than one of his suc- 
 cessful performances " Comedia 8m fama,"'^*' — a plaj' 
 without repute. But this was, in truth, a matter of 
 mere form, soon understood bj the public, Avho needed 
 no especial excitement to bring them to theatrical 
 entertainments, for which they were constitutionally 
 •eager. Some of the audience went earlj^ to secure 
 good places, and amused themselves with the fruit and 
 confectionery carried round the court-yard for sale, 
 or with watchino- the movements of the laufhino- 
 dames who were enclosed within the balustrade of the 
 cazucia, and who were but too ready to flirt with all in 
 their neighborhood. Others came late ; and if they 
 were persons of authority or consequence, the actors 
 waited for their appearance till the disorderly murmurs 
 of the groundlings compelled them to begin.'^' 
 
 At last, though not always till the rabble had been 
 composed by the recitation of a favorite ballad, or 
 by some popular air on the guitars, one of the more 
 respectable actors, and often the manager himself, 
 appeared on the stage, and, in the technical phrase, 
 "threw out the fo«," or compliment,'^^ — a peculiarly 
 
 ^ This title lie gave to "Comohan Antigua," Madrid, 159G, 4to, p. 413, 
 
 de ser los Amigos," " Amor por Razon and Salas "Tragedia Antigua," Madrid, 
 
 •de Estado," and some otliers of his 1633, 4to, p. 184. Luys Alfonso de 
 
 jdays. It may be noted that a full- Carvallo, in his Cism de Apolo, 1602, 
 
 length play was sometimes called Gran f. 124, deiines the Loa thus: " Aora le 
 
 Comedia, as twelve such are in Tom. llaman loa por loar en el la comedia, el 
 
 XXXI. of "Las Mejores Comedias que auditorio o festividad en que se hace, 
 
 hasta oy han salido," Barcelona, 1638. mas ya le podremos asi Uamar, ]iorquc 
 
 •Calderon called his full-length plays han dado los poetas en alabar alguna 
 
 (Iran comedia, perhaps because Lope's cosa como el sileneio, un numero, lo 
 
 had been called /«mo.s«. negro, lo pequeno y otras cosas en que; 
 
 ^^ Mad. d'AuInoy, Voyage, Tom. III. .sequieren.senaIarymostrarsusingenios, 
 
 p. 22, and Zabaleta, Fiesta por la Tarde, aunque todo deve ir ordenado al iiu que 
 
 1660, pp. 4, 9. yo dLxe que es, captar la benevolencia y 
 
 ^ Cigarralesde Toledo, Madrid, 1624, atencion del auditorio." But after all, 
 
 4to, p. 99. There is a good deal of learn- as a general idea of the loa, Sir Richard 
 
 ing about has in Pinciano, " Filcsofia Fanshawe is right, when, in his trans-
 
 528 LOAS. [PicuioD IL 
 
 Spanish form of the prologue, of wliieli we liave abun- 
 dant specimens from the time of Naharro, who 
 * 448 calls them intru/jtos, * or overtures, down to the 
 final fall of the old drama. The}' are prefixed 
 to all the autos of Lope and Calderon ; and though, in 
 the case of the nudtitudinous secular plays of the 
 Spanish theatre, the appropriate loas are no longer 
 found regularl}^ attached to each, yet we have them 
 occasionalh' with the dramas of Tirso de Molina. Cal- 
 deron, Antonio de Mendoza, and not a few others. 
 
 The best are those of Agustin de Roxas, whose 
 '• Amusing Travels " are full of them, and those of 
 Quiilones de Benavente, foiuid among his " Jests in 
 Earnest." They were in diflerent forms, dramatic, nar- 
 rative, and lyrical, and on very various subjects and in 
 very various measures. One of Tirso's is in praise of 
 the beautiful ladies who were present at its represen- 
 tation;'^ — one of Mendoza's is in honor of the cap- 
 ture of Breda, and flatters the national vanity upon 
 the recent successes of the Marquis of Spinola ; *^ — 
 one b}^ Roxas is on the glories of Seville, where he 
 made it serve as a conciliatory introduction for him- 
 self and his company, when the}' were about to act 
 there ; ^^ — one by Sanchez is a jesting account of the 
 actors who were to perform in the play that was ta 
 follow it;*^ — and one by Benavente was spoken by 
 Roque de Figueroa, when he began a series of repre- 
 
 lation of Mendoza's "Querer por solo de Mendoza, Lisboa, 1690, 4to, p. 78,^ 
 
 querer," he speaks of the prologue as and may liave been spoken before Cal- 
 
 ealled by the Spaniards loa, i. e. the derou's well-known play, " El Sitio de 
 
 praise, because therein the speetators Breda." See ante. Chap. XXIV. 
 
 are eoniniendeil lociirnj favor ivith them. ''^ Four persons appear in this loa, - — 
 
 1671. Music was fr-ely introduced into a part of which is .sung, — and, at tln^ 
 
 the Ions. Kenjifo, ed. 1727, p. 166. end, Seville enters and grants them all 
 
 ^ The loa. to the " Vergonzoso en leave to act in her city. Viage, 1614. 
 
 Palacio " ; it is in dUcimas rcdovdillas. 11'. 4-8. 
 
 *^ It gives an account of the recep- *'■' Lyra Poetica de Vicente Sanchez, 
 
 tion of the news at the italace, (Obras Zaragoza, 1688, 4to, p. 47.
 
 Chap. XXVI.] LOAS. 529 
 
 sentations at court, and is devoted to a pleasant expo- 
 sition of the strengtli of liis company, and a boastful 
 <announcement of the new dramas they were able to 
 produce.'*' 
 
 * Gradually, however, the loas, whose grand * 449 
 object was to conciliate the audience, took more 
 iind more the popular dramatic form ; and at last, like 
 several by Roxas, Mira de Mescua, Moreto, and Lope 
 de Vega,** differed little from the fjtrces that followed 
 them.*^ Indeed, they were almost always fitted to the 
 particular occasions that called them forth, or to the 
 known demands of the audience ; — some of them 
 being accompanied with singing and dancing, and 
 others ending with rude practical jests.*^ They are, 
 therefore, as various in their tone as they are in their 
 forms ; and, from this circumstance, as well as from 
 their easy national humor, they became at last an 
 important part of all dramatic representations. 
 
 The first Jornada or act of the principal performance 
 followed the loa, almost as a matter of course, though, 
 in some instances, a dance was interposed ; and in 
 
 *3 Joco-Seria, 1653, ff. 77, 82. In tales, con Quatro Comedias Nuevas y 
 
 another he parodies some of the t'avnil- sus Loas y Entremeses, " Madrid, 1G55, 
 
 iar old ballads (ff. 43, etc. ) in a way 4to. 
 
 that must have been very amu.sing to *'" A loa entitled " El Cuerpo de 
 
 the mosqueteros ; a, practice not unconi- Guardia," by Luis Enriquez de Fon- 
 
 mon in the lighter dramas of the Span- seca, and performed by an amateur 
 
 ish stage, most of which are lo.st. In- company at Naples on Easter eve, 
 
 stances of it are found in tlie cntrcmes 1669, in honor of the queen of Spain, 
 
 of "Melisendra," by Lope (Comedias, is as long as & sayncte, and much like 
 
 Tom. I., Valladolid, 1609, p. 333) ; and one. It is — together with another loa 
 
 two burlesque dramas in Comedias Es- and several curious bayles — part of a 
 
 cogidas, Tom. XLV., 1679, — the first jjlay on the subject of A^iriatus, entitled 
 
 entitled " Traycion en Propria SanOTe," "The Si^anish Hannibal," and to be 
 
 being a parody on the ballads of the found in a collection of his poems, less 
 
 " Infantes de Lara," and the other en- in the Italian manner than miglit lie 
 
 titled "El Amor mas Verdadero," a expected from a Spaniard who lived and 
 
 parody on the ballads of " Durandarte " wrote in Italy. Fonseca publislied tin- 
 
 and " Belerma " ; — both very extrava- volume containing them ail at Naples, 
 
 gant and dull, but showing the tenden- in 1683, 4to, and called it "Ocios de 
 
 cies of the popular ta.ste not a whit the los Estudios " ; a volume not worth 
 
 less. • reading, and yet not wholly to be passed 
 
 ** These curious loan are found in a over, 
 rare volume, called "Autos Sacranien- *^ Roxas, Viage, ft'. 189-193. 
 
 VOL. II. 34
 
 530 EXTREMESES. [Pkkiod If. 
 
 others*, Figueroti complains that he had been obliged 
 still to listen to a ballad before he was permitted to 
 reach the regular drama which he had come to hear ; ^' 
 — so importunate were the audience for what was 
 lightest and most amusing. At the end of the first 
 act, though perhaps preceded by another dance, came 
 the first of the two cntremescs, — a sort of " crutches." 
 as the editor of Benavente well calls them, " that were 
 given to the liea\y comedias to keep them from falling." 
 Nothing can well be gayer or more free than these 
 fa\orite entertainments, which were generally written 
 in the genuine Castilian idiom and spirit.*^ At first, 
 the}- were fjirces. or parts of farces, taken from 
 * 450 ^ Lope de Rueda and his school; but afterwards, 
 ■ Lope de Vega, Cervantes, and the other writers 
 for the theatre, composed eiiiremeses better suited to the 
 changed character of the drama in their times.*^ Their 
 su])jects were generally chosen from the adventures of 
 the lower classes of society, whose manners and follies 
 the}^ ridiculed ; many of the earlier of the sort ending, 
 as one of the Dogs in Cervantes's dialogue complains 
 that the}' did too often, with vulgar scuffles and blows.^ 
 But later, they became more poetical, and were min- 
 gled with allegory, song, and dance ; taking, in fact, 
 whatever forms and tone were deemed most attractive. 
 They seldom exceeded a few minutes in length, and 
 never had any other purpose than to relieve the atten- 
 
 *' Cigarrales de Toledo, 1624, pp. 104 tinctl3-.set forth in Lope's "Arte Xuevo 
 
 and 403. Figueroa, Pasagero, 1617, f. de liacer Coiuedias " ; and both the fir.st 
 
 109, b. and thh-d volumes of his collection of 
 
 ** Sarmiento, the literarj' historian plays contain e»<re«(c«fts; besides which, 
 
 and critic, in a letter cited in the several are to be found in his Obras Su- 
 
 " iJeclaniacion contra los Abusos de eltas ; — almost all of them amusing, 
 
 la Lengiia Cit-stellana," (Madrid, 1793, The enfremrscs of Cervantes are at the 
 
 4to, p. 149,) says: "1 never knew end of his Comedias, 1615. 
 
 what the true Ca.stilian idiom was till ** Xovelas, 1783, Tom. II. p. 441. 
 
 1 reafl enlrcnieses." " Coloijuio de los ferros." 
 
 *^ The origin of cniremescs is dis-
 
 CiiAr. XXVI.] SAYNETES. DANCES. 531 
 
 tion of the audience, which it was supposed might have 
 been taxed too niucli by the graver action that liad 
 preceded theni/'^ With this action they had, properly, 
 nothing to do ; — though in one instance Calderon has 
 ingeniously made his cntrcmes serve as a graceful con- 
 chision to one of the acts of the principal drama.^^ 
 
 The second act was followed by a similar eiitrcmcSy 
 music, and dancing ;^^ and after the third, the poetical 
 part of the entertainment was ended with a m//nele or 
 homie houche, first so called by Benavente, but differing 
 from the entremeses only in name, and written best by 
 Cancer, Deza y Avila, and Benavente himself, — in 
 short, by those who best succeeded in the entreme- 
 ses!^ Last of all came a national dance, which 
 * never failed to delio-ht the audience of all *' 451 
 classes, and served to send them home in good- 
 humor when the entertainment was over.^^ 
 
 Dancing, indeed, was very early an important part 
 of theatrical exhibitions in Spain, even of the religious, 
 and its importance has continued down to the present 
 day. This was natural. From the first intimations of 
 history and tradition in antiquity, dancing was the 
 ffivorite amusement of the rude inhabitants of the 
 country ; ^^ and, so far as modern times are concerned, 
 
 51 A good many are to be found in 1663 ; and those of Benavente, in his 
 the " Joco-Seria " of Quinones de Beua- " Joco-Seria," 1653. The volume of 
 vente. Deza y Avila — marked Vol. I., but I 
 
 52 <<gi Castillo de Lindabridis," end think the only one that ever appeared 
 of Act I. There is an eufremes called — is almost filled with light, short 
 "The Cliestnut Girl," very amusing as compositions for the theatre, under the 
 far as the spirited dialogue is concerned, name of bayles, entremeses, saynctes, and 
 but immoral enough in the story, to be motjigangas ; the last being a sort of 
 found in Chap. 15 of the " Bachiller m.imnming. Some of them are good ; 
 Trapaza." all are characteristic of the state of the 
 
 5^ Mad. d'Aulnoy, Tom. I. p. 56. theatre in the middle of the seventeenth 
 
 5* C. Pellicer, Origen, Tom. I. p. century. 
 
 277. The entremeses of Cancer are to 55 ai fin con un baylezito 
 
 found in his Obras, Madrid, 1761, 4to ; Iba la gente contenta 
 
 and among the Autos, etc., 1655, re- Koxas, Viage,1614, f 48. 
 
 ferred to in note 44 ; — those of Deza y ^ The Gaditance puellce wen^ the most 
 
 Avila, in his "Donayi'es de Tersicore," famous j but see, ou the whole subject
 
 532 DANCES. [I'KUK.u II. 
 
 dancing has been to Spain what music has been to 
 Italy, a passion with the whole population. In conse- 
 quence of this, it finds a place in the dramas of Enzina, 
 Vicente, and Naharro ; and, from the time of Lope de 
 Rueda and Lope de Vega, appears in some part, and 
 often in several parts, of all theatrical exhibitions. An 
 amusing instance of the slight grounds on which it was 
 introduced may be found in " The Gran Sultana " of 
 Cervantes, where one of the actors says, — 
 
 There ne'er \v;is lioni a Spanish woman yet 
 But she was born to dance ; 
 
 and a specimen is immediately given in proof of the 
 assertion.^' 
 
 Many of these dances, and probably nearly all of 
 them-, that were introduced on the stao-e, were accom- 
 panied with words, and were what Cervantes calls 
 
 '• recited dances." °^ Such were the well-known 
 * 452 '• Xacaras," — * roisterintr ballads, in the dialect 
 
 of the rogues, — which took their name from 
 
 of the old Si)anish dances, the notes to a lover of dancing, and sometimes uses 
 
 .Juvenal, b\- Ruperti, Lipsise, 1801, 8vo, happy phrases about it. "Danza como 
 
 Sat. XI. vv. 162-164, and the curious el pensamiento," he says of a charming 
 
 di.scussion by Salas, "Nueva Idea de la little girl in Don Quixote, Parte II. c. 
 
 Tragedia Antigua," 1633, pp. 127, 128. 48. See also the "Gitanilla" in sev- 
 
 Giftbrd, in his remarks on the passage eral places. 
 
 in Juvenal, (Satires of Deeimus .Junius ^^ "DauzasJmbladas" isthe. singalair 
 .Juvenalis, rhiladel])hia, 1803, 8vo, Vol. phrase applied to a pantomime with 
 II., p. 159,) thinks that it refers to singing and dancing in Don Quixote, 
 "neither more nor less than the /a7i- Parte II. c. 20. Tlie bai/lcs of Fonseca, 
 drtnyo, which still fomis the delight of referred to in a preceding note (45), are 
 all ranks in Spain," and that in the a fair specimen of the singing and dan- 
 phrase " tcxf.arum crepitus" he hears cing on the Sjianish stage in the middle 
 "the clicking of the castanets, which of the seventeenth century. One of 
 accompanies the dance." them is an allegorical contest between 
 ^" .Jornada III. lOverj'body danced. Love and Fortune ; anotlier, a discus- 
 The Duke of Lerma was said to be the sion on .lealousy ; and the third, a woo- 
 he.st dancer of his time, being premier ing by Peter C'rane, a peasant, earned 
 to Philiji IV., and afterwards a cardi- on by shaking a pur.se before the dam- 
 nal. (Don Quixote, ed. Clemencin, sel he would win; — all three in the 
 Tom. VI., 1839, p. 272.) Philip IV., ballad measure, and none of them ex- 
 the Duke's master, too, is said to have tending beyond a hundred and twenty 
 been an extraordinary dancer. See Dis- line.s, or pos.sessing any merit but a few 
 cursos solire el Arte del Danzado, by jests. Renjifo says (ed. 1727, p. 175) 
 Juan Oomez de Bias, 12mo, 1642, cited that the bayhs were always short and 
 by Gayangos. Cervantes was evidently merry.
 
 Chap. XXVI.] DANCES. 533 
 
 the bullies who .sung them, and were at one time rivals 
 for favor with the regular entremeses^^ Such, too, were 
 the more famous " Zarabandas " ; graceful, but volup- 
 tuous dances, that were known from about 1588, and, 
 as Mariana says, received their name from a devil in 
 woman's shape at Seville, though elsewhere they are 
 said to have derived it from a similar personage found 
 at Guayaquil in America.*^*^ Another dance, full of 
 mad revelry, in which the audience were ready some- 
 times to join, was called " Alemana," probably from its 
 German origin, and was one of those whose discon- 
 tinuance Lope, himself a great lover of dancing, always 
 regretted.''^ Another was " Don Alonso el Bueno," so 
 named from the ballad that accompanied it ; and yet 
 others w^ere called "• El Caballero," " La Carreteria," 
 "Las Gambetas," " Hermano Bartolo," and "LaZapa- 
 teta." '^ 
 
 Most of them were free or licentious in their ten- 
 dency. Guevara says that the Devil invented them 
 all ; and Cervantes, in one of his farces, admits that 
 
 ^^ Some of them are very brutal, like 136-138.) Lopez Pinciano, in hi.s 
 one at the end of "Crates y Hippar- " Filosofia Antigua Poetica," 1596, pp. 
 chia," Madrid, 1636, 12mo ; one in the 418-420, partly describes the zara- 
 " Enano de las Musas" ; and several banda, and expresses his great disgust 
 in the " Ingeniosa Helena." The best at its indecency ; and in the Preface to 
 are in Quifiones de Benavente, " Joco- Florando de Castilla, 1588, (.see post, 
 Seria," 1653, and Solis, "Poesias," Chap. XXVII., note,) a book is cited, 
 1716. There was originally a distinc- called " La Vida de la ^arabanda, ra- 
 tion between bayles and danzas, now mera publica de Guaiacan. Even the 
 no longer recognized ; — the danzas be- author of the spurious Second Part of 
 Ing graver and more decent. See a note theGuzmandeAlfarache(Lib. III. cap. 7) 
 of Pellicer to Don Quixote, Parte II. is .shocked at its voluptuous coarseness. 
 c. 48 ; partly discredited by one of Cle- ''i Dorotea, Acto I. .sc. 8. 
 mencin on the same passage. ^- Other names of dances are to be 
 
 ^•^ Covarrubias, ad verbuin Qaraban- found in the " Diablo Cojuelo," Tranco 
 da. Pellicer, Don Quixote, 1797, Tom. I., where all of them are represented as 
 I. pp. cliii-clvi, and Tom. V. p. 102. inventions of the^ Devil on Two Sticks ; 
 There is a list of many ballads that were but these are the chief. See, also, Co- 
 sung with the zarabandas in a curious varrubias. Art. Zapata. Figueroa, who 
 satire entitled "The Life and Death of published his Plaga Universal in 1615, 
 La Zarabanda, Wife of Anton Pintado," is equally severe on all public dancing, 
 1603 ; — the ballads being given as a and, after abusing it tlirough two pages, 
 bequest of the deceased lady. (C. Pel- ends thus: "En suma es un cxercicio 
 licer, Origen, Tom. I. pp. 129-131, hallado por el Demonio." f. 200, b.
 
 534 POPULAR CIIAFlACTER of the DRA3IA. [Pekiod IL 
 
 the Zarabanda, which was the most obnoxious 
 * 453 to censure, could, indeed, * have had no better 
 
 origin .*^^ He, however, was not so severe in his 
 judgment on others. He declares that the dances ac- 
 companied ])}' singing were better than the enircmeses, 
 which, he adds disparagingly, dealt only in hungry 
 men. thieves, and brawlers.*^ But whatever may have 
 been individual opinions about them, they occasioned 
 great scandal, and, in 1621, kept their place on the 
 theatre onh' by a vigorous exertion of the j^opular will 
 in opposition to the will of the government. As it 
 was, they were for a time restrained and modified ; but 
 still no one of them was absolutely exiled, except the 
 licentious Zarabanda, — many of the crowds that 
 throno:ed the court-yards thinkins:, with one of their 
 leaders, that the dances were the salt of the plays, and 
 that the theatre would be o;ood for nothing: without 
 them.^' 
 
 Indeed, in all its foims, and in all its subsidiary 
 attractions of ballads, entremeses and saynetes, music, 
 and dancing, the old Spanish drama was essentially 
 a popular entertainment, governed by the popular 
 will. In any other country, under the same circum- 
 stances, it would hardh' have risen above the con- 
 dition in which it was left b}- Lope de Rueda, when 
 it was the amusement of the lowest classes of the 
 •populace. But the Spaniards have always been a 
 poetical people. There is a romance in their early 
 history, and a picturesqueness in their very costume 
 and manners, that cannot be mistaken. A deep en- 
 thusiasm runs, like a vein of pure and rich ore, at 
 
 ^ Cuevas de Salamanca. There Ls a the "Ocios de Igiiacio Alvarez Pelli- 
 
 lurioiLs bdiiU cntrcmeJiotlo of Moreto, on cer," s. 1. 1685, 4to, p. 51. 
 
 the .subject of Don Rodrigo and La ®* Seethe "Gran Sultana," a.s already 
 
 Cava, in the Autos, etc., \*'tM, f. 92 ; cited, note 57. 
 
 and another, called "El Medico," in ** C. Pellicer, Origen, Tom. L j). 102.
 
 I'll Ai'. XX VI. J ^U.MEEK OF DRAMATIC AUTHORS. " 535 
 
 the bottom of their character, and the workings of 
 strong passions and an original imagination are every- 
 where visible among the wild elements that break out 
 on its surftice. The same energy, the same Ifincy, the 
 same excited feelings, which, in the fourteenth, fif- 
 teenth, and sixteenth centuries, produced the most 
 various and rich popular balkads of modern times, were 
 not yet stilled or quenched in the seventeenth. The 
 same national character, which, under Saint Fer- 
 dinand * and his successors, drove the Moorish * 454 
 crescent through the plains of Andalusia, and 
 found utterance for its exultation in poetry of such re- 
 markable sweetness and power, was still active under 
 the Philips, and called forth, directed, and controlled a 
 dramatic literature which grew out of the national 
 genius and the condition of the mass of the people, and 
 which, therefore, in all its forms and varieties, is essen- 
 tially and peculiarly Spanish. 
 
 Under an imj)ulse so wide and deep, the number of 
 dramatic authors w^ould naturally be great. As early 
 as 1(305, when the theatre, such as it had been consti- 
 tuted by Lope de Vega, had existed hardly more than 
 fifteen years, we can easily see, by the discussions in 
 the first part of Don Quixote, that it already filled a 
 large space in the interests of the time ; and from the 
 Prologo prefixed by Cervantes to his plays in 1615, it 
 is quite plain that its character and success were al- 
 ready settled, and that no inconsiderable number of its 
 best authors had already appeared. Even as early as 
 this, dramas were composed in the lower classes of 
 society. Villegas tells us of a tailor of Toledo who 
 wrote many ; Guevara gives a similar account of a 
 sheep-shearer at Ecija ; and Figueroa, of a well-known 
 tradesman of Seville ; — all in full accordance with the
 
 536 
 
 TIIEIK rOPULAK TONE. 
 
 [Pekiod TI. 
 
 representations made in Don Quixote concerning the 
 .shepherd Chrisostomo, and the whole current of the 
 .story and conversations of the actors in tlie •• Journey " 
 of Roxas.*'*' In this state of things, the number of 
 Avriters for the theatre went on increasing out of all 
 proportion to their increase in other countries, as ap- 
 pears from the lists given In* Lope de "W^u-m. in 1630; 
 by Montalvan, in 1632. when we find seventy-six dra- 
 matic poets living in Castile alone ; and by Antonio, 
 about 1660. During the whole of this century, there- 
 fore, we may regard the theatre as a part of the pop- 
 ular character in Spain, and as having become, in the 
 proper sense of the word, more truly a national the- 
 atre than any other that has been produced in modern 
 
 times.''' 
 * 455 *It might naturally have been foreseen, that, 
 
 upon a movement like this, imparted and sus- 
 tained by all the force of the national genius, any acci- 
 dents of patronage or opposition would produce little 
 effect. And so in fact it proved. The ecclesiastical 
 authorities always frowned upon it, and sometimes 
 
 ^ Figiieroa, Pasagero, 1617, f. 105. 
 Vilk-gas, Eroticas Najera, 1617, 4to, 
 Tum. II. p. 29. Diablo Cojuelo, Tian- 
 co V. Figueroa, Plaza Uuiversal, Ma- 
 drid, 1733, folio, Discurso 91, fir.st 
 jniuted 161.5. 
 
 *' Two facts may be mentioned as 
 illustrations of the pa.ssion of Spaniards 
 for tlieir national drama. 
 
 The first is, that the wretched eaj)- 
 tives on the coast of Barbary .sola(-ed 
 themselves with it in those vast JJciios 
 Avhich were their prison-houses at night. 
 One instance of this we have noticed as 
 ♦•arly as l.")7.''), when Ceivaute.s was in 
 Algit-i>i (fiii/^-. Chap. XI.). Another is 
 iiotici'd as having oci-urred in ir»89 (.see 
 (Jalle.go, "(■riti<<jn " No. IV., 1835, 
 p. 43). And another shows that, in 
 1646, they mu.st have bi-en of freijuent 
 ■occurrence at Tuni.s, for tlie Moorish 
 jirince already leferred to (Chap. XVII. 
 •jiotc 30) had been pre.ient, as if it were 
 
 nothing remarkable, at the representa- 
 tion of such a Spanish play the night 
 before he escaped. Indeed, I have no 
 doubt that the acting of Spanish plays 
 both at Algiei-s and Tunis was a common 
 .solace of the Christian captives there. 
 
 The other fact Ls, that so many dra- 
 mas were written by persons in the 
 o|)posite or higher classes of society. 
 Perhaps the most anmsing instance of 
 this indulgence is to be found in the 
 ca.se of the Duque de Estrada, who 
 lived from 1589 to about 1650, and 
 who .say.s, in his autobiography, that, 
 during his exile, he wrote a considera- 
 ble numlx'r of plays, si.\ on Iii.'f own ad- 
 ventures; — .so tnie was it that every- 
 body from tailors to princes wrote plays 
 upon all .sorts of subjects, from the 
 most .solemn in the Scriptures down to 
 the most frivolous in their own lives. 
 Memorial Historico, Tom. XII., Ma- 
 drid, 1860, p. 504.
 
 Chap. XXVI.] TIIEIK POPULAR TONE. 537 
 
 placed themselves so as directly to resist its progress ; 
 })ut its sway and impulse were so heavy, that it passed 
 over their opposition, in every instance, as over a slight 
 obstacle. Nor was it more affected by the seductions 
 of patronage. Philip the Fourth, for above forty years, 
 favored and supported it with princely munificence. 
 lie built splendid saloons for it in his palaces ; he 
 -wrote for it; he acted in improvisated dramas. The 
 reigning favorite, the Count Duke Olivares, to flatter 
 the royal taste, invented new dramatic luxuries, such 
 as that of magnificent floating theatres, constructed by 
 Cosme Lotti, on the sheets of water in the gardens of 
 the Buen Retiro.^"^^ All royal entertainments seemed 
 in fact, for a time, to take a dramatic tone,' or tend to 
 it. But still the popular character of the theatre it- 
 self was unchecked and nnaffected ; — still the plays 
 acted in the royal residences, before the principal 
 persons in the kingdom, were the same with those 
 performed before the populace in the court-yards of 
 Madrid ; — and wdien other times and other princes 
 came, the old Spanish drama left the halls and palaces, 
 where it had been so long flattered, with as 
 little of a * courtly air as that with whicli it * 456 
 had originally entered them.*"^ 
 
 ^""i Something of the same soit had T have seen only a very slight notice — 
 
 lieen done in the preceding reign, when may have occurred. C. Pellicer, Teatro^ 
 
 the Duke de Lerma caused a fioating Tojn. II. p. 135. 
 
 stage to he erected on the Tormes, and ''^ Mad. d'Aulnoy, fresh from the 
 
 liad the "Casa Confusa" of his son-in- stage of Racine an(l Moliere, then the 
 
 law, the Conde de Lemo.s, acted on it mo.st refined and hest appointed in 
 
 in presence of Philip III., whose 7?rtyrt.(Zo Europe, speaks with great admiration 
 
 the Duke de Lerma then was. But the of the theatres in the Spanish palaces,, 
 
 mad folly of the Conde Duque de Oli- though she ridicules those granted to- 
 
 vares on the Welters of the Buen Retiro, the public. (Voyage, etc., ed. 1693,, 
 
 <;arried out as it was by the curious in- Tom. III. p. 7, and elsewhere.) But 
 
 veutions o/ the Florentine architect, un- ]SIad. de Villars, French Ambassadres.s. 
 
 doubtedly surpassed in wasteful «nd at the same jjeriod, who says that she 
 
 fantastic extravagance anything that went often with tlie Queen to these 
 
 could have been undertaken at Sala- ])alatial representations, gives a very 
 
 nianca, or wherever else on the Tormes dilferent account of tln;m. "Rien n'est 
 
 this whimsical exhibition — of which si detestaule," she says in one of her
 
 538 GREAT NUMBER OF DRAMAS. [Peimod II. 
 
 The same InipuLse that made it so powerful in other 
 respects filled the old Spanish theatre with an almost 
 incredible number of cavalier and heroic dramas, dra- 
 mas for saints, sacramental anios, entrcmeses, and farces 
 of all names. Their whole amount, at the beginning 
 of the eighteenth century, has been estimated to ex- 
 ceed thirty thousand, of which four thousand eight 
 hundred by unknown authors had been, at one time, 
 collected by a single person in Madrid.'-^ Their char- 
 acter and merit were, as we have seen, very various. 
 Still, the circumstance that they vrere all written sub- 
 stantially for one o))ject and under one system of 
 opinions gave them a stronger air of general resem- 
 blance than might otherwise have been anticipated. 
 Por it should never be forgotten, that the Spanish 
 drama in its highest and most heroic forms was still 
 a popular entertainment, just as it was in its farces 
 and ballads. Its purpose was, not only to please all 
 classes, but to please all equally ; — those who paid 
 three maravedis, and stood crowded together under a 
 hot sun in the court-yard, as well as the rank and 
 fashion, that lounged in their costly apartments above, 
 and amused themselves hardly less with the motley 
 .scene of the audiences in the patio than with that 
 of the actors on the stage.™ Whether the story this 
 
 letters; and in anotlicr, dated Marcli, III. 8vo, pp. 22-24; a work of gieat 
 
 1680, giving an account of a play thus value. 
 
 acted at noonday, she says " L'on y "'^ These rooms and halconies, from 
 mouroit de froid." (Lettres, ed. 1760, which the favored and rich witnessed 
 pp. 79 and 81.) One way, however, in the plays as they were acted, seem early 
 ■which the kings ])atrt»nized the drama to have been fitted up in a costly man- 
 was, probably, not verj' agreeable to ner. Antonio Perez, whose troubles 
 the authors, if it weni often practised; l)egan in l.'>79, — that is, befoi-e thi- 
 I mean that of requiring a jnece to be theatre came into the hands of Lope 
 acted nowhere but in the royal pres- de Vega, — had a "palco" which was 
 <'nce. This was tlie case with Gero- fitted up-with tapestries, and cost him 
 nimo de Villa)'zan's "Sufrir mas por "treinta rcalcs diarios," — this luxury 
 querer mas." Comedias por Difei-entes being thought of consequence enough 
 Autores, Tom. XXV., Zaragoza, 1633, to W entered in the inventory of his 
 f. 145, 1>. effects after he liad In-en arn-stcd b)' 
 *•' Schack's Geschichte der dramat. order of Pliilip II. — See jMst, Chap. 
 Lit. in Siwnicu, l'.<-rlin, 184G, Tom. XXXVII.
 
 Chai'. XXVI.] COSTUMES. 539 
 
 mass of people saw enacted were probable or not, was 
 to them a matter of small consequence. But it 
 was necessary * that it sliould be interesting. * 457 
 Above all, it was necessary that it should be 
 Spanish ; and therefore, though its subject might be 
 Greek or Roman, Oriental or mythological, the char- 
 acters represented were always Castilian, and Castilian 
 after the fashion of the seventeenth century, — gov- 
 erned by Castilian notions of gallantry and the Cas- 
 tilian point of honor. 
 
 It was th e same with their costumes. Coriolanus 
 was dressed like Don John of Austi'ia ; Ai-istotle came 
 on the stage with a curled periwig and buckles in his 
 shoes, like a Spanish Abbe ; and Madame d'Aulnoy 
 says, the Devil she saw Avas dressed like any other 
 Castilian gentleman, except that his stockings were 
 flame-colored and he wore horns.'^ But however the 
 actors might be dressed, or however the play might 
 confound geography and history, or degrade heroism 
 by caricature, still, in a great majority of cases, dra- 
 matic situations are skilfidly produced ; the story, full 
 of bustle and incident, grows more and more urgent 
 as it advances ; and the result of the whole is, that, 
 though we may sometimes have been much offended, 
 we are sorry we have reached the conclusion, and find 
 on looking back that we have almost always been 
 excited, and often pleased. 
 
 The Spanish theatre, in many of its attributes and 
 characteristics, stands, therefore, by itself It takes no 
 cognizance of ancient example.; for the spirit of an- 
 tiquity could have little in common with m;iterials^"so 
 modern. Christian, and romantic. It borrowed noth- 
 ing from the drama of France or of Italy ; for it was 
 
 ''I Relation du Voj^age d'Espagiie, ed. 1693, Tom. I. p. 55.
 
 540 CHARACTER OF THE DRAMA. [Period II. 
 
 in advance of both when its final character was not 
 only developed, but settled. And as for England, 
 though Shakespeare and Lope were contemporaries, 
 and there are points of resemblance between them 
 which it is jDleasant to trace and d ifficult to explain, 
 still they and their .-^chooN. undoubtedly, had not the 
 least influence on each other. '^- The Spanish drama is, 
 therefore, entirely national. Many of its best subjects 
 
 are "taivFTT from the chronicles and traditions 
 * 458 fomiliar to the audience * that listened to them, 
 
 and its prevalent versification reminded the 
 hearers, by its sweetness and power, of what had so 
 often moved their hearts in the earliest outpourings 
 of the national genius. With all its faults, then, this 
 old Spanish drama, founded on the great traits of the 
 national character, maintained itself in the popular 
 favor as long as that character existed in its original 
 attributes ; and even now it remains one of the most 
 striking and one of the most interesting portions of 
 modern literature. 
 
 ■^li One reason, I suppose, was the speare, 1597. There is a curious no- 
 hatred of the two nations for each other tice of Lope's play in Grey's Notes 
 during the reigns of Elizabeth and on Shakespeare, 1754, Vol. II. pp. 
 James, and those of the Philips. Still 249-262, and a translation of the 
 it is odd and amusing to compare the whole play of Lope, made with skill 
 "Castelvines y Monteses" of Lope de and taste by F. W. Cosens, 4to, London, 
 Vega, published 1647, and the "Ban- 1869, printed at the Chiswick press, but 
 dos de Verona" of Roxas, 1679, with not published. Unhappily the original 
 the "Romeo and Juliet" of Shake- was not worth the trouble.
 
 *CHArTEE XXYII. *4o9 
 
 HISTORICAL NARRATIVE POEMS. SEMPERE. CAPATA. AYLLON. SANZ. 
 
 FERXANDEZ. ESPIXOSA. COLOMA. — ERCILLA AND HIS ARAUCAXA, M'lTII 
 
 OSORIO'S CONTINUATION. ONA. GABRIEL LASSO DE LA VEGA. SAAVE- 
 
 DRA. CASTELLANOS. CENTENBRA. VILLAGRA. RELIGIOUS NARRATIVE 
 
 POEMS. BLASCO. MATA. VIRUES AND HIS MONSERRATE. BRAVO. 
 
 VALDIVIELSO. HOJEDA. DIAZ AND OTHERS. IMAGINATIVE NARRATIVE 
 
 POEMS. ESPINOSA AND OTHERS. BARAHONA DE SOTO. BALBUENA AND 
 
 HIS BERNARDO. 
 
 Epic j)oetrj, from its general dignity and preten- 
 sions, is almost uniformly placed at the head of the 
 different divisions of a nation's literature. But in 
 Spain, though the series of efforts in that direction 
 begins early and boldly, and has been continued with 
 diligence down to our own times, little has been 
 achieved that is worthy of memory. The Poem of the 
 Cid is, indeed, the oldest attempt at narrative poetry 
 in the modern languages of Western Europe that de- 
 serves the name ; and, composed, as it must have been, 
 above a century before the appearance of Dante, and 
 two centuries before the time of Chaucer, it is to be 
 regarded as one of the most remarkable outbreaks 
 of poetical and national enthusiasm on record. But 
 the few" similar attempts that were made at long inter- 
 vals in the periods immediately subsequent, like those 
 we witness in " The Chronicle of Fernan Gonzalez," in 
 "The Life of Alexander," and in "The Labyrinth" 
 of Juan de Mena, deserve to be mentioned cliiefl}^ in 
 order to mark the progress of Spanish culture during 
 the lapse of three centuries. No one of them showed 
 the power of the grand old narrative Poem of the Cid.
 
 542 HISTORICAL rOEMS. [Peuiod II. 
 
 At last, when we reach the reio-n of Charles 
 * 460 the Fifth, * or rather, when we come to the 
 immediate results of that reign, it seems as if 
 the national genius had been inspired with a poetical 
 ambition no less extravagant than the ambition for 
 military glory wliich their foreign successes had stirred 
 up in the masters of the state. The poets of the time, 
 or those wdio regarded themselves as such, evidently 
 imagined that to them was assigned the task of wor- 
 thily celebrating the achievements, in the Old World 
 and in the New, which had really raised their country 
 to the first place among the powers of Europe, and 
 which it was then thought not presumptuous to hope 
 would lay the foundation for a universal monarchy. 
 
 In the reign of Philip the Second, therefore, we have 
 an extraordinary number of epic or rather narrative 
 poems, — in all above twenty, — full of the feelings 
 which then animated the nation, and devoted to sub- 
 jects connected with Spanish glory, both ancient and 
 recent, — poems in which their authors endeavored to 
 imitate the great Italian epics, already at the height 
 of their reputation, and fondly believed they had 
 succeeded. But the works they thus produced, with 
 hardly more than a single exception, belong oftener 
 to patriotism than to poetry ; the best of them being 
 so closel}^ confined to matters of fact, that they come 
 with nearly equal pretensions into the province of his- 
 tory, while the rest fall into a dull, chronicling style, 
 which makes it of little consequence under what class 
 they may chance to be arranged. 
 
 The first of these historical poems is the " Carolea " 
 of Hieronimo Sempere, published in 1560. and devoted 
 to the victories and glories of Cliarles the Fifth, whose 
 name, in fact, it bears. The author was a merchant, —
 
 €iiAP. XXVII.] THE CAIJLO FAMOSO. 543 
 
 a circumstance strange in Spanish literature, — and it 
 is written in the Italian oftava rima ; the first part, 
 which consists of eleven cantos, being devoted to the 
 wars in Italy, and ending with the cajDtivity of Francis 
 the First ; wdiile the second, which consists of nineteen 
 more, contains the contest in Germany, the Emperor's 
 visit to Flanders, and his coronation at Bologna. 
 * The whole fills two volumes, and ends abruptly * 461 
 with the promise of another, devoted to the 
 capture of Tunis ; a promise which, happily, was never 
 redeemed.^ 
 
 The next narrative poem in the order of time was 
 published by Luis de Capata, only five years later. It 
 is the " Carlo Famoso," devoted, like the last, to the 
 fame of Charles the Fifth, and, like that, more praised 
 than it deserves to be by Cervantes, when he places 
 both of them among the best poetry in Don Quixote's 
 library. Its author declares that he was thirteen years 
 in writing it ; and it fills fifty cantos, comprehending 
 above forty thousand lines in octave stanzas. But 
 never was poem avowedly written in a spirit so prosaic. 
 It gives year by year the life of the Emperor, from 1522 
 to his death at Yuste in 1558 ; and, to prevent the pos- 
 sibility of mistake, the date is placed at the top of each 
 
 1 "La Carolea," Valencia, 1560, 2 poem, in two hundred and eighty-three 
 
 toni. 12ino. The first volume ends octave stanzas, apparently written about 
 
 with accounts of the city of Valencia, the middle of the sixteenth century, hy 
 
 in the course of which he commemorates some unknown author of that period, 
 
 some of its distinguished families and and devoted to the glory of Francisco 
 
 some of its scholars, particularly Luis Pizarro, from the time when he left 
 
 Vives. Notices of Sempere are to be Panama, in L524, to the fall of Ata- 
 
 found in Ximeno, Tom. I. p. 135, in balipa. It was found in the Imperial 
 
 Fuster, Tom. I. p. 110, and in the Jiibrary at Vienna, among the mami- 
 
 notes to Polo's "Diana," by Cerda, scripts there, but it seems to have been 
 
 p. 380. edited with very little critical care. It 
 
 A poem entitled " Conquista de la does not, however, deserve more than 
 
 Nueva Castilla," first published at Paris it received. It is wholly worthless ; — 
 
 in 1848, 12mo, by J. A. Sprecher de not better than we can easily suppose 
 
 Bernegg, may, perhaps, be older than to have been written Ijy one of Pizarro's 
 
 the "Carolea." It is a short narrative rude followers.
 
 544 VARIOUS IIISTOIUCAL POEMS. [Pekk.i. IF. 
 
 page, and eveiytliing of an imaginative nature or of 
 doubtful authority is distinguished by asterisks from 
 the chronicle of ascertained facts. Two passages in it 
 are interesting, one of which gives the circumstances 
 of the death of Garcilasso, and the other an ample ac- 
 count of Torralva, the great magician of the time of 
 Ferdinand and Isabella ; — the same person who is com- 
 memorated by Don Quixote when he rides among the 
 stars. Such, however, as the poem is, Capata had great 
 confidence in its merits, and boastfull}' iniblished it at 
 his own expense. But it was unsuccessful, and he died 
 
 reucrettino; his follv.^ 
 * 462 * Diego Ximenez de Ajllon, of Arcos de la 
 
 Frontera, who served as a soldier under the 
 Duke of Alva, wrote a poem on the history of the Cid, 
 and dedicated it. in loTO, to his great leader. But this, 
 too, was little reo-arded at the time, and is now hardlv 
 remembered.'^ Nor was more fivor shown to Ilippu- 
 lito Sanz, a knight of the Order of Saint John, in Malta, 
 who shared in the brave defence of that island against 
 the Turks in 1565, and wrote a poetical history of that 
 
 - "Carlo Famoso de Don Luis de Alcalade Henares, 1579, 4to, 149 leaves, 
 
 Capata," Valencia, l.')65, 4to. At the double columns. It is dedicated to the 
 
 opening of the fiftieth canto, he con- great Duke of Alva, under whom its 
 
 gratulates himself that he has "reached author had served, and consists chietly 
 
 the end of his thirti-i'n years' journey " ; of the usual trailitions about the Cid, 
 
 but, after all, is obliged to hurrj' over told in rather llowing, but insipid, oc- 
 
 the last fourteen years of his hero's life tave stanzas. 
 
 in that one canto. For Garcilasso, see In the Librar)- of the Society of His- 
 
 Canto XLI. ; and for Torralva's story, torj- at Madrid, MS. D. No. 42, is a 
 
 which strongly illustrates the Spanish i^oemindonblercdondinasdcarfc mayor, 
 
 character of the sixteenth century, see by Fray fJonzalo de Arredondo. on the 
 
 Cantos XXVI II., XXX., XXXI., and achiev<ni('nts both of tlie Cid and of 
 
 XXXII., with the notes of the com- the Count Fenian Gonzalez, the merits 
 
 mentators to Don Qui.xote, Parte II. of each being nicely balanced in alter- 
 
 c. 41. Qapata ligun'd as a knight, I nate cantos. It is hardly worth notice, 
 
 think, at the famous festinties of Bins except from the circumstance that it 
 
 in 1549. Calvete <le Rstrella, Viage, was written as early as 1522, when the 
 
 ec, Anveres, folio, 1552, f. 196. unused license of Charles V. to jirint it 
 
 ^ Antonio (Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. was given. Fray Arredondo is also tlie 
 
 323) gives the date and title, and little author of " El Castillo Inexpugnable 
 
 el.se. My copy, which is the only one y Defensorio de la Fe," Burgos, 1528,. 
 
 of the poem known to me, is printed at fol.
 
 H'um: XXVII.] 
 
 ALOXSl) DE ERCILLA. 
 
 545 
 
 rlef'eiice, under the name of '• La Maltea," which was 
 piibhshed in 1582.^ 
 
 Other poems were produced during the same period, 
 not unhke those we have just noticed ; — such as Espi- 
 nosa's continuation of the " Orhmdo Fui'ioso," which 
 is not entirel}^ without merit; and " Tlie Decade on 
 the Passion of Christ," by Coloma, which is grave and 
 •dignified, if nothing else ; — Ijoth of them in the 
 manner of the contemporary Itahan heroic and nar- 
 rative poems. But neither obtained much regard 
 wh.en it first appeared, and neither of them can now 
 be said to be remembered. Indeed, there is but one 
 long poem of the age of PhiUp the Second, which 
 obtained an acknowledged reputation from the first, 
 and has preserved it ever since, both at home and 
 abroad ; — I mean the " Araucana." ^ 
 
 * Its author, whose personal character is im- * 463 
 pressed on every part of his poem, was Alonso 
 
 * Ximeiio, Tom. 1. p. 179, and Velaz- 
 i|uez, Dieze, p. 385. 
 
 ^ Nicolas cle E-spincsa's .second part 
 of the "Orlando Furioso " i.s better 
 known, as there are edition.s of it in 
 15.55, 1556, 1557, and 1559, the one of 
 1556 being printed at Antwerp iu 4to. 
 ■Juan de Coloma's ' ' Decada de la Pa- 
 •sion," in ten book.s, tcrza rima, was 
 printed in 1576, 18ino, If. 166, at Caller 
 (Cagliari) in Sardinia, where its author 
 was Viceroy, and on which island this 
 is said to have been the fir.st book that 
 was ever printed. The last statement 
 is, I suppose, not true, or the fact 
 would have been set forth in the li- 
 cense to print granted by Coloma him- 
 self, because that license declares for- 
 mally that the Rev. Nicolas Canyellas, 
 Vicar-General of Caller, had already, 
 with much cost and toil, introduced 
 printing into the island. The manu- 
 script is certified to have been exam- 
 ined and approved by a commission of 
 Cardinals at Rome ; — probably a com- 
 pliment to the high position of the 
 author. The book, of which I havt; a 
 copy, is neatly printed for the time. 
 VOL. II. 35 
 
 See, also, Rodriguez, Bib. Valentina, 
 pp. 251, 252, and Ximeno, Tom. I. 
 p. 175. It is praised by Cervantes in 
 his "Galatea," and is a sort of har- 
 mony of the Gospels, not without a 
 dignified movement in its action, and 
 interspersed w-ith narratives from the 
 Old Testament. The story of St. Ve- 
 ronica, (Lib. VII.,) and the description 
 of the Madonna as .she sees her son 
 surrounded by the rude crowd and as- 
 cending Mount Calvary under the bur- 
 den of his cross, ( Lib. V II i. , ) are pas- 
 sages of considerable merit. Coloma 
 says he chose the terza rirtia "because 
 it is the gravest verse in the language, 
 and the best suited to any gi-ave sub- 
 ject." In a poem in the same volume, 
 on the Resurrection, he has, however, 
 taken the octave; rhyme ; and half a 
 century earlier, the fcrza rim.a had been 
 rejected by Pedro Fernandez de Ville- 
 gas, as quite unfitted for Castilian po- 
 etry. See ante, Vol. I. p. 445, 6, note. 
 There are poems by Coloma in the Can- 
 cionero of 1554, noticed ante, Vol. L 
 p. 393, note 8.
 
 546 ALOXSO DE EIICILLA. [Peiuod IL 
 
 (1e Ercilla, third son of a geiitleiiuin of Biscayaii origin^ 
 — a proud circumstance, to which the poet himself 
 alludes more than once.*' He was born in l-')3o, at 
 Madrid, and his fotlier, a member of the council of 
 Charles the Fifth, was able, from his influence at 
 court, to have his son educated as one of the pages 
 of the prince who was afterwards Philip the Second, 
 and whom the young Ercilla accompanied in his jour- 
 neys to different parts of Europe between 1547 and 
 1551. In 1554, he was with Philip in England, when 
 that prince married Queen Mary ; ' and news having 
 arrived there, as he tells us in his poem, of an outbreak 
 of the natives in Chili which threatened to give trouble 
 to their conquerors, many noble Spaniards then at the 
 English court volunteered, in the old spirit of their 
 country, to serve against the infidels. 
 
 Among those who presented themselves to join in 
 this romantic expedition was Ercilla, then twentj-- 
 * 464 one years * old. By permission of the prince, 
 he says, he exchanged his civil for military ser- 
 vice, and for the first time girded on his sword in ear- 
 nest. But the beginning of the expedition was not 
 auspicious. Aldrete, a person of military experience, 
 who was in tlie suite of Philip, and under whose stan- 
 dard they had embarked in the enterprise, died on the 
 way ; and after their arrival, Ercilla and his friends 
 
 ® In Canto XXVII. he says: "Behold Privicro of the " Flor do las Solenines 
 
 the rougli soil of ancient Biscay, whence Alegrias que se hizieron en la Impeiial 
 
 it is certain comes tliat nohility now Ciudad de Toledo por la Conversion 
 
 extended through the whole land; be- del Reyno de Iiigleterra." (4to, If. 31.) 
 
 liold Bi-rnieo, tiie liead of Biscay, sur- The solenniities and frolics of the occa- 
 
 rouiided with thorn-woods, and above its sion are descrilu-d, and the verses in 
 
 j)ort the old walls of the liouse of Ercilla, old-fashioned villancicos and flowing 
 
 a liouse older than the city itself. rcdondillds are given, or at least a 
 
 " On this occasion there were great part of them ; for the Scgundo Tra- 
 
 I'ejoicings in Sj)ain, for it was believed tado seems never to have been printed, 
 
 that the English heresy was now at an An account of it may be found in the 
 
 end. At Toledo, in l.^oij, tlien- was Spanish translation of this History, 
 
 [iiililishfd l.y .luan dd Aiigiilo, Traludo Tom. 111. pp. 5til, 562.
 
 OuAi'. XXVII.] ALONSO DE ERCILLA. 547 
 
 were sent, under the less competent leading of a son 
 of the viceroy- of Peru, to achieve the subjugation of 
 the territory of Arauco, — an inconsiderable spot of 
 earth, bnt one which had been so bravely defended 
 against the Spaniards by its inhabitants as to excite 
 respect for their heroism in many parts of Europe.*^ 
 The contest was a bloody one ; for the Araucans were 
 desperate and the Sj)aniards cruel. Ercilla went 
 through his part of it with honor, meeting the enemy 
 in seven severe battles, and suffering still more severely 
 from wanderings in the wilderness, and from long ex- 
 posure to the harassing warfare of savages. 
 
 Once he was in greater danger from his countrymen 
 and from his own fiery temper than he was, perhaps, 
 at any moment from the common enemy. In an inter- 
 val of the war, when a public tournament was held in 
 honor of the accession of Philip the Second to the 
 throne, some cause of offence occurred during the 
 jousting between Ercilla and another of the cavaliers. 
 The mimic fight, as had not unfrequently happened on 
 similar occasions in the mother country, was changed 
 into a real one ; and, in the confusion tliat followed, the 
 young commander, avIio presided at the festival, rashly 
 ordered both the principal offenders to be put to death, 
 — a sentence which he reluctantly changed into im- 
 prisonment and exile, though not until after Ercilla had 
 been actually placed on the scaffold for execution. 
 
 * When he was released, he seems to have * 465 
 engaged in the romantic enterprise of hunting 
 down the cruel and savage adventurer. Lope de 
 
 * "Arauco," says Ercilla, "is a small preface to the plaj' in honor of the Mar- 
 province, about twenty leagues long quis of Canete, 1622, (noticed /?os<,) says, 
 and twelve broad, which produces the when speaking of the smallness of the 
 most warlike people in the Indies, and Araucan territory : "Its soil is nourished 
 is therefore called The Unconquered with the bones of Spaniards. Alexan- 
 State." Its people are still proud of der conquered the east with fewer sol- 
 their name. Luis de Belmonte, in his diers than Arauco has cost Chili."
 
 548 THE ARAUCAXA. [Period II. 
 
 Aguirre ; but lie did not arrive in the monster's neigh- 
 borhood till the moment when his career of blood was 
 ended. From this time we know only, that, after suiFer- 
 ing from a long illness, Ercilla returned to Spain in 1562, 
 at the age of twentv-nine. liavino- been ein'lit years in 
 America. At first, his unsettled habits made him rest- 
 less, and he visited Italy and other parts of Europe ; 
 but in 1570 he married a lady connected with the 
 great family of Santa Cruz, Doiia Maria de Bazan, 
 whom he celebrates at the end of the eighteenth canto 
 of his poem. About 15TG, he was made gentleman of 
 the bedchamber to the Emperor of Germany, — per- 
 haps a merely titular office ; and about 1580, he was 
 again in Madrid and in poverty, complaining loudly of 
 the n-eglect and ingratitude of the king whom he had 
 so long served, and who seemed now to have forgotten 
 him. During the latter part of his life we almost en- 
 tirely lose sight of him, and know only that he began 
 a poem in honor of the family of Santa Cruz, and that 
 he died as early as 1595. 
 
 Ercilla is to be counted among the many instances 
 in which Spanish poetical genius and heroism were one 
 feeling. Pie wrote in the spirit in which he fought ; 
 and his principal work is as military as any portion of 
 his adventurous life. Its subject is the very expe- 
 dition against Arauco which occupied eight or nine 
 years of his youth ; and he has simply called it '^ La 
 Araucana," making it a long heroic poem in thirty- 
 seven cantos, which, with the exception of two or three 
 trifles of no value, is all that remains of his w^orks. 
 Fortunately, it has proved a sufficient foundation for 
 his fame. But though it is unquestionably a poem 
 that discovers much of the sensibility of genius, it has 
 o-reat defects ; for it was written when the elements
 
 Chap. XXVII.] THE AIIAUCAXA. 549 
 
 of epic poetiy were .singularly misuiulerstood in Spain, 
 and Ercilla, misled by such models as the " Carolea " 
 and " Carlo Famoso," fell easily into serious mistakes. 
 
 The hrst division of the Aniucana is, in fact, 
 a versified * history of the early part of the * 466 
 war. It is geographically and statisticall}- ac- 
 curate. It is a poem, thus far, that should be read 
 with a map, and one whose connecting principle is 
 merely the succession of events. Of this rigid accu- 
 racy he more than once boasts ; and, to oljserve it, he 
 begins with a description of Arauco and its people, 
 amidst whom he lays his scene, and then goes on 
 through fifteen cantos of consecutive battles, negotia- 
 tions, conspiracies, and adventures, just as they oc- 
 curred. He composed this part of his poem, he tells 
 lis, in the wilderness, where he fought and suffered ; 
 taking the night to describe wdiat the day had brought 
 to pass, and writing his verses on fragments of paper, 
 or, when these failed, on scraps of skins ; so that it is, 
 in truth, a poetical journal, in octave rhymes, of the 
 expedition in which he was engaged. These fifteen 
 cantos, written between 1555 and 1563, constitute the 
 first part, which ends abruptly in the midst of a violent 
 tempest, and which was printed by itself in 1569. 
 
 Ercilla intimates that he feoon discovered such a de- 
 scription of successive events to be monotonous ; and 
 he determined to intersperse it with incidents more 
 interesting and poetical. In his second part, therefore, 
 which was not printed till 1578, we have, it is true, 
 the same historical fidelity in the main thread of the 
 narrative, but it is broken with something like epic 
 machinery ; such as a vision of Bellona, in the seven- 
 teenth and eighteenth cantos, where the poet Avitnesses 
 in South America the victory of Philip the Second at
 
 550 THE AKAUCAXA. [I'ei-.u.u II. 
 
 Saint Quentin, the day it Avas won in France ; — the 
 cave of the magician Fiton. in the twentA'-third and 
 twenty-fourth cantos, where he sees the battle of Le- 
 panto, whicli happened long afterwards, fought by 
 anticipation;^ — the romantic story of Tegualda in 
 the twentieth, and that of Glaura in the twenty-fourth : 
 so that, when we come to the end of the second 
 
 part. — wliicli concludes, again, with needless 
 *4G7 * abruptness, we find that we have enjoyed 
 
 more poetry than we had in the first, if we 
 have made less rapid progress in the history. 
 
 In the third part, whicli appeared in 1590. we have 
 again a continuation of the events of the war, though 
 with episodes such as that in the thirtA'-second and 
 thirtj'-third cantos, — which the poet strangely devotes 
 to a defence, after the manner of the old Spanish 
 chronicles, of the character of Queen Dido from the 
 imputations cast on it by Virgil. — and that in the 
 thirty-sixth, in which he pleasantly gives us much of 
 what little we know concerning his own personal his- 
 tory .^"^ In the thirty-seventh and last, he leaves all 
 his previous subjects, and discusses the right of publie 
 and private war. and the claims of Philip the Second 
 to the crown of Portugal ; ending the whole poem, as 
 far as he himself ended it. Avitli touching complaints 
 of his own miserable condition and disappointed hopes, 
 and his determination to give the rest of his life to 
 penitence and devotion. 
 
 This can hardly be called an epic. It is an historical 
 
 ^ Such visions were, at the time, sup- i" Tlie accounts of himself are chief- 
 
 ])0se<l to be common. Pedro Nicolas ly in Cantos XIII., XXXVI., and 
 
 Factor, a painter who died in 1583, and XXXVII. ; and besides the facts I 
 
 who is remarkable for having been can- have given in the text, I find it stated 
 
 onized, claimed to have liad several (Seman. Pintoresco, 1842, p. 195) that 
 
 such; — among the rest one of this Ercilla in 1571 received the Order of 
 
 same liattle of Lepanto, which he saw at Santiago, and in 1578 was employed by 
 
 Valeniia while it was lighting in Greece. Philip II. on an inconsiderable mission 
 
 Stirling's Artists, Vol. I. jip. 3tiS-:j79. to Saragossa.
 
 CiiAi'. XXVIl.J THE AKALX'AXA. 551 
 
 poem, partly in the manner of Silius Italicus, yet seek- 
 ing to imitate the sudden transitions and easy style of 
 the Italian masters, and struggling awkwardly to incor- 
 porate with different parts of its structure some of the 
 supernatural machinery of Homer and Virgil. But 
 this is the unfortunate side of the work. In other 
 respects Ercilla is more successful. His descriptive 
 powers, except in relation to natural scenery, are re- 
 markable, and, whether devoted to battles or to the 
 wild manners of the unfortunate Indians, have not 
 been exceeded by any other Spanish poet. His 
 speeches, too, are often excellent, especially the re- 
 markable one in the second canto, given to Colocolo, 
 the eldest of the Caciques, where the poet has been 
 willing to place himself in direct rivalship with the 
 speech which Homer, under similar circumstances, 
 has given to Ulysses in the first book of the 
 Iliad.^^ *And his characters, so far as the * 468 
 Araucan chiefs are concerned, are drawn with 
 force and distinctness, and lead us to sympathize with 
 the cause of the Indians rather than with that of the 
 invading Spaniards. Besides all this, his genius and 
 sensibility often break through, where w^e should least 
 expect it, and his Castilian feelings and character still 
 oftener ; the wdiole poem being pervaded with that 
 deep sense of loyalty w^hich was always a chief ingre- 
 dient in Spanish honor and heroism, and which, in Er- 
 cilla, seems never to have been chilled by the ingrati- 
 tude of the master to w^hom he devoted his life, and to 
 whose glory he consecrated this poem.^^ 
 
 " Tlic great }iTaise of this speech by something in earnest for its fame. (See 
 
 Voltaire, in the Essay prefixed to his his Works, ed. Beaumarchais, Paris, 
 
 "Henriade," 1726, lirst made the Aran- 1785, 8vo, Tom. X. pp. 394-401.) 
 
 cana known beyond the Pyrenees ; and But his mistakes are so gross as to im- 
 
 if Voltaire had read the poem he pre- pair the value of his admiration, 
 
 tended to criticise, he might have done ^^ The best edition of the Araucana
 
 552 OSORIO. [Periop II. 
 
 The Araucana, tliougli one third lunger than the 
 Ihad. is a fragment; but, as iar as the war of Araiieo 
 is concerned, it was soon completed by the addition 
 of two more parts, embracing thirty-three additional 
 cantos, — the work of a poet by the name of Osorio, 
 who published it in 1597. Of its author, a native of 
 Leon, we know only that he describes himself to have 
 been young when he wrote it, and that in 1598 he 
 gave the world another poem, on the wars of the 
 knights of Malta and the capture of Rhodes. His 
 continuation of the Araucana was several times printed, 
 but has long since ceased to be read. Its more inter- 
 esting portions are those in which the poet relates, with 
 apparent accuracy, many of the exploits of Ercilla 
 among the Indians ; — the more absurd are those in 
 which, under the pretext of visions of Bellona. an ac- 
 count is given of the conquest of Oran by Cardinal 
 
 Ximenes, and that of Peru by the Pizarros, 
 * 469 neither of which has anything to do with ^ the 
 
 main subject of the poem. Taken as a whole, 
 it is nearly as dull and chronicling as anything of its 
 class that preceded it.^'^ 
 
 is that of Sanclia, Madiiil, 1776, 2 torn, tion of the Araucana, by Diego de Sa- 
 
 12mo ; and tho. most exact life of its nistel)an O.sorio, of wliich I have any 
 
 author is in Alvarez y Baena, Tom. I. knowledge, was printed witli the poem 
 
 1>. 32. Hayley jmblished an abstract of Krcilla at Madrid, 1733, folio. 0.so- 
 
 of the poem, with bad translations of rio also published " Primera y Segun- 
 
 .some of its l)cst passages, in the notes da Parte de las Guerras de Malta y 
 
 to his third epistle on Ejiie Poetry (Loii- Toma du Kodas," Sladrid, 1599, 8vo, 
 
 <lon, 1782, 4to) ; but there is a better fl". 297. But it is not better than the 
 
 and more amjile examination of it in continuation of the Araucana. There 
 
 the "Cai-aktere der vornehmsten Dich- is a co]>y in the Bibliotheque de I'Arse- 
 
 ter aller Nationen," Leipzig, 1793, Svo, nal. Paiis. 
 
 Band H. Tlieil I. pp. 140 and 349. As In 1862 there was published a poem 
 
 to th<- ingratitude of Philip II. it is not uidikc tlx- Araucana ; 1 mean the 
 
 not remarkable. He had no |>octical " Puren Imlomito." It wa.s contem- 
 
 side to his iharacter. Paton tells us porary witli the invasion of Arauco and 
 
 he wa.s "eneinigo de la jioesia." See Puren, being a small ]»art of that de- 
 
 his addn'ss " Al Letor" of the Pro- voted country; it is, as was Ercilla's 
 
 verbios Morales de Alonso de Vanos, poem, an account of the Spani.sh at- 
 
 Baec^a, Kj]."*. i'aton knew what he tempt to conquer it. The author of 
 
 .sai<l. the "Puren Indomito," was Alvarez de 
 
 '^ Til"- last edition of the continua- Toledo, a captain in the expedition he
 
 Chai'. XXVI].] 
 
 OSOKIO. 
 
 But there is one difficulty about l)otli parts of this 
 poem, which must have been very olDvious at the time. 
 Neither shows any purpose of doing honor to the com- 
 mander in the war of Arauco, who was 3^et a repre- 
 sentative of the great Mendoza family, and a leading 
 personage at the courts of Philip the Second and 
 Philip the Third. Why Osorio should have passed 
 him over so slightly is not apparent ; but Ercilla was 
 evidently offended by the punishment inflicted on 
 him after the unfortunate tournament, and took this 
 mode of expressing his displeasure.^'* A poet of Chili, 
 
 describes, and liis poem, extending to 
 tweuty-four cantos and eighteen hun- 
 dred octave stanzas, is as purely dry 
 narrative as a mere description of facts 
 can make it. It ends abruptly in the 
 middle of a stanza. Being apparently 
 accurate in its dates, it has sometimes 
 been cited as a trustworthy authority 
 in the history of Chili, but it was never 
 ])ublished until 1862, when it was print- 
 ed from a manuscript in the National 
 Library at Madrid, by the house of 
 P'rank, in Paris and Leipzig, as the 
 first volume of a " Bibliotheca Ameri- 
 cana, collection d'ouvrages inedits on 
 rares," — a series, which, if it is not 
 opened brilliantly, may, it is hoped, be 
 continued. 
 
 ^* The injustice, as it was deemed by 
 many courtly persons, of Ercilla to CJar- 
 cia de Mendoza, fourth ilarquis of Ca- 
 nete, who commanded the Spaniards in 
 the war of Arauco, may have been one 
 of the reasons why the poet was neg- 
 ":;;cted by his own government after his 
 return to Spain, and was certainly a 
 subjeut of remark in the reigns of Philij) 
 III. and IV. In 1613, Christoval Sua- 
 .ez de Figueroa, the well-known poet, 
 ])ublislied a life of the Marquis, and 
 dedicated it to the profligate Duke of 
 Lerma, then the reigning favorite. It 
 is written with some elegance and some 
 affectation in its style, but is full of 
 flattery to the great family of which the 
 Manjuis was a member ; and when its 
 author reaches the point of time at 
 which Ercilla was involved in the 
 trouble at the tournament, already 
 noticed, he says : "There arose a dif- 
 
 ference between Don .Tuan d<> Pineda 
 and Don Alonso de Eicilla, which went 
 so far, that tliey drew their swords. 
 Instantly a vast number of weapons 
 sprang from the scabbards of those on 
 foot, who, without knowing what to 
 do, rushed together and made a scime 
 of gi'eat confusion. A rumor was spread, 
 that it had been done in order to cause 
 a revolt ; and from some slight circum- 
 stances it was believed that the two 
 pretended combatants had ai-ranged it 
 all beforehand. Thej' were seized by 
 command of the general, who ordered 
 them to be beheacled, intending to in- 
 fuse terror into tlie rest, and knowing 
 that severity is the most effectual way 
 of insuring military obedience. The 
 tumult, however, was appeased ; and 
 as it was found, on incpiiry, that the 
 whole attair was accidental, the sen- 
 tence was revoked. The becoming rigor 
 with Avhich Don Alonso was treated 
 caused tlie silence in which he endeav- 
 ored to bury the achievements of Don 
 Garcia. He wrote the wars of Arauco, 
 carrying them on by a body without a. 
 head ; — that is, by an army, with no 
 intimation that it had a general. Un- 
 grateful for the many favois he had 
 received from the same hand, he left 
 his nule sketch without the living colors 
 that belonged to it^ as if it wen; possi- 
 ble to hide the valor, virtue, forecast, 
 authority, and success of a nobleman 
 whose words and deeds always went 
 together ajid were alike; admiralile. 
 But .so far could passion prevail, tliat 
 the ai;count thus given remained in thi^ 
 minds of many as if it were an apocry-
 
 5-34 
 
 OXA. 
 
 [Peuiod it. 
 
 * 470 therefore, Pedro de Ona, attempted, * so for as 
 Ercilla was concerned, to repair the wrong, and, 
 in 1596, published his " Arauco Subjugated," in nine- 
 teen cantos, which he devoted expressly to the honor 
 of the neglected commander. Ona's success was incon- 
 siderable, but was quite as much as he deserved. His 
 poem was once reprinted; but, though it consists of 
 sixteen thousand lines, it stops in the middle of the 
 events it undertakes to record, and has never been 
 finished. It contains consultations of the infernal 
 powers, like those in Tasso, and a love-story, in iuii- 
 tation of the one in Ercilla ; but it is mainly historical, 
 and ends at last with an account of the capture of 
 ^' that English pirate, Richerte Aquines," — no doubt 
 Sir Richard Hawkins, who was taken in the Pacific in 
 1594, under circumstances not more unlike those which 
 Ona describes than might be expected in a poetical 
 version of them by a Spaniard.^^ 
 
 plial oiip ; whereas, had it been dutifull)' 
 written, its truth wouhl have stood au- 
 thenticated to ail. For, by the consent 
 of all, the peisonage of whom the poet 
 ought to have written w:is without fault, 
 gentle, and of gi'cat humanity ; and lie 
 Avho was sil(>nt in his praise strove in 
 vain to dim his glory." Hechos de Don 
 Oarcia de Mendoza, por Chr. Suarez de 
 Figueroa, Madrid, KilS, 4to, p. 103. 
 
 The theatre seemed especially anxious 
 to make up for the deficiencies of the 
 .greatest narrative poet of the country. 
 In 1622, a play appeared, entitled "Al- 
 gunas Hazauas de las muchas de Don 
 (Jarcia Hurtado de Mendoza" ; a jioor 
 attempt at flattery, which, on its title- 
 page, professes to l)e the woi-k of Luis 
 «le Belmonte, but, in a .sort of table of 
 <'ontents, is ascribed chiefly to eight 
 other poets, among whom are Antonio 
 Miiu de Mescua, Luis Velez de Gue- 
 vara, and Guillen de (\-istro. Of the 
 "Arauco Domado" of liOpe de Vega, 
 printed in 1629, and the humble ])lace 
 iissigned in it to Er<;illa, I have spoken, 
 ante, p. 207. To the.se should be added 
 two othei-s, namely, the "Governador 
 
 Prudente" of Gaspar de Avila, in 'J'om. 
 XXI. of the Comedias Escogidas, print- 
 ed in 1664, in which Don Garcia arrives 
 first on the scene of action in Chili, and 
 distingui-shes his command by acts of 
 wisdom and clemency ; and in Tom. 
 XXII. , 1665, the "Espanoles en Chili," 
 by Francisco Gonzalez de Bustos, de- 
 voted in part to the glory of Don 
 Garcia's father, and ending with the 
 impjilement of Caupolican and the bap- 
 tism of another of the principal In- 
 dians ; each as characteristic of the ag(! 
 as was the homage of all to the Men- 
 dozas. 
 
 15 "Arauco Domado, compuesto por 
 el Licenciado Pedro de Qua, Natural 
 de los Infantes de Engol en Chile, etc., 
 impreso en la Ciudad de los Keye.s," 
 (Lima,) 1.596, 12mo, and Madrid, 1605. 
 Besides which, Ona wrote a poem on 
 the earthquake at Lima in 1599. An- 
 tonio is wrong in suggesting that Oha 
 was not a native of America. 
 
 Gayangos adds, that in 1639 there 
 was printed at Seville a poem by Ofia, 
 entitled " Ignacio de la Cantabria," 
 which is, in fact, a mere life of Saint
 
 Chav. XXYII.J lasso DE la VEGA. SAAVEDKA. OO-J 
 
 But as the marvellous discoveries of the conquerors 
 of America continued to fill the world with their fame, 
 and to claim at home no small part of the interest that 
 had so lono- been o-iven to the national achieve- 
 ments in * the Moorish wars, it was natural that * 471 
 the greatest of all the adventurers, Hernando 
 Cortes, should come in for his share of the poetical 
 honors that were lavishly scattered on all sides. In 
 fact, as early as 1588, Gabriel Lasso de la Vega, a 
 young cavalier of Madrid, stirred up by the example 
 of Ercilla, published a poem, entitled " The Valiant 
 Cortes," wdiich six years later he enlarged and printed 
 anew under the name of" La Mexicana " ; and in 1599, 
 Antonio de Saavedra, a native of Mexico, published his 
 ^' Lidian Pilgrim," which contains a regular life of Cor- 
 tes in above sixteen thousand lines, written, as the 
 author assures us, on the ocean, and in seventy days. 
 Both are mere chronicling histories ; but the last is 
 not without freshness and truth, from the circumstance 
 that it was the work of one familiar with the scenes 
 he describes, and with the manners of the unhappy 
 race of men whose disastrous fate he records.^*^ 
 
 In the same year with the "Valiant Cortes" ap- 
 peared the first volume of the lives of some of the 
 early discoverers and adventurers in America, b}- Juan 
 de Castellanos, an ecclesiastic of Tunja in the kingdom 
 
 Ignatius Loyola, that has no other (Hijos de Madrid, Tom. II. p. 264.) 
 
 merit than facile octave verses. The " El Peregrino Indiano, por Don Anto- 
 
 "Arauco Domado" is reprinted in the nio de Saavedra Guzman, Viznieto del 
 
 Bibliotecaof Rivadenejaa, Tom. XXIX., Conde del Castellar, nacido en Mexico," 
 
 and there is a notice of Ona in the Madrid, 1599, 12mo. It is in twenty 
 
 Preface to that volume, 1854. He cantos of octave stanzas ; and though 
 
 wrote his Arauco at Lima. we know nothing else of its author, we 
 
 1^ " Cortes Valeroso, por Gabriel Las- know, by the laudatory verses prefixed 
 
 so de la Vega," Madrid, 1588, 4to, and to liis poem, that Lope ile Vega and 
 
 "La Mexicana," Madrid, 1594, 8vo. Vicente Esjiiilel were among his friends. 
 
 Tragedies said to be much like those of It brings the story of (fortes down to 
 
 Virues, and other works, which I have the death of Guatimozin. 
 not seen, are also attributed to him.
 
 556 CASTELLAXOS. CENTEXEKA. [rEitiui> IL 
 
 of New Granada ; but one wlio, like many others that 
 entered the Church m their old age, had been a soldier 
 in his youth, and had visited many of the countries, 
 and shared in many of the battles, he describes. It 
 l^eo'ins with an account of Columbus, and ends, about 
 156(1. with the expedition of Orsua and the crimes of 
 Ao-uirre, which Humboldt has called the most dramatic 
 episode in the history of the Spanish conquests, and of 
 which Southey has made an interesting, though pain- 
 ful story. Why no more of the poem of Castellanos 
 was published does not appear. More was 
 * 472 known to exist; * and at last the second and 
 third parts were found, and, with the testimony 
 ^of Ercilla to the truth of their narratives, were pub- 
 lished- in 1847, bringing their broken accounts of the 
 Spanish conquests in America, and especially in that 
 part of it since known as Colombia, down to about 
 1588. The whole, except the conclusion, is written in 
 the Italian octave stanza, and extends to nearly ninety 
 thousand lines, in pure, fluent Castilian, which soon 
 afterwards became rare ; but in a chronicling spirit, 
 which, though it adds to its value as history, takes 
 from it all the best characteristics of poetrj^^' 
 
 Other poems of the same general character followed. 
 One on the discovery and settlement of La Plata is by 
 Centenera, who shared in the trials and sufferings of 
 the original conquest, — a long, dull poem, in twenty- 
 eight cantos, full of credulity, and yet not without 
 value as a record of what its author saw and learned 
 
 " The ]ioem of Castellanos is singu- in the National Libiary of that cit}-, 
 
 larly enough entitled '' Elegias de Va- were not ])uhlished till they apjK'ared 
 
 rones llustres de Indias," and we have in the foiirtli volume of the Biblioteea 
 
 some reason to suppose it originally of Aribau, Madrid, 1847, 8vo. Elcgias 
 
 consisted of four parts. (Antonio, Bib. seems to liave been used by Castellanos 
 
 Nov., Tom. I. p. 674.) The first was in the sense of eidoriict. Of their au- 
 
 ]>rinted at Madrid, l.o89, 4to ; but the thor the little we know is told by him- 
 
 .second and third, discovered, I believe, self.
 
 CiiAr. XXVI I.J 
 
 CENTENERA. 
 
 A'lLLAGHA. 
 
 557 
 
 in Ills wild adventures. It contains, in tlie earlier 
 parts, much irrelevant matter concerning Peru, and is 
 throuo-hout a stranu'e mixture of liistorv and s-eoffra- 
 phy, ending with three cantos devoted to " Captain 
 Thomas Candis, captain-general of the queen of Eng- 
 land," in other words, Thomas Cavendish, half gentle- 
 man, half pirate, whose overthrow in Brazil, in 1502, 
 Centenera thinks a sufficiently glorious catastrophe for 
 his long poem.^^ iVnother similar work on au 
 expedition into New * Mexico was w^ritten by * 473 
 Caspar de Yillagra, a captain of infjintry, who 
 served in the adventures he describes, and published 
 his account in 1610, after his return to Spain. But 
 both belong to the domain of history rather than to 
 that of poetry.^^ 
 
 No less characteristic of the national temper and 
 
 18 "Argentina, Conquista del Rio de 
 la Plata y Txicuman, y otros Sueesos 
 del Peru," Lisboa, 1602, 4to. There is 
 a love-story in Canto XII., and some 
 talk about enchantments elsewhere ; 
 but, with a few such slight exceptions, 
 the jioem is evidently pretty good geog- 
 raphy, and the best historj- the author 
 could collect on the spot. I know it 
 only in the reprint of Barcia, who takes 
 it into his collection entirely for its his- 
 torical claims. Figueroa (Plaga Uni- 
 versal, 1615, f. 345, b) calls Captain 
 Cavendish "Candi," and ])uts him 
 and " Ricarte Aquines " — Sir Richard 
 Hawkins — with Dragut and other Bar- 
 bary pirates, who were so much liated 
 in Spain. 
 
 One thing has much struck me in 
 this and all the poems written by Span- 
 iards on their conquests in America, 
 and especially by those who visited the 
 countries they celebrate. It is, that 
 there are no proper sketches of the pecu- 
 liar scenery through which they passed, 
 though much of it is among the most 
 beautiful and gi'and that exists on the 
 globe, and must have been tilling them 
 constantly with new wonder. The truth 
 is, that, when they describe woods and 
 rivers and mountains, their descrip- 
 
 tions, often eloquent, would as well tit 
 the Pyrenees or the Guadahjuivir as 
 they do Mexico, the Andes, or the 
 Amazon. Perhaps this deliciency is 
 connected with the same causes that 
 have prevented Spain from ever pro- 
 ducing a great landscape painter. At 
 any rate, it is a strong contrast to the 
 state of English literature, where two 
 of the most remarkable productions of 
 modern times, resting in no small de- 
 gree on descriptions of nature, are to he 
 traced to the connection of England 
 and America; — I mean the " Tem- 
 l^est" and "Robinson Crusoe." And 
 yet neither Shakespeare nor Defoe ever 
 visited the scenery their genius peopled 
 with such marvellous creations. (See 
 2}ost, Chap. XXXI., near the end, on 
 descriptive poetry. 
 
 1^ ' ' La Conquista del Nuevo ]\Iexico, 
 por Gaspar de Villagra," was printed 
 at Alcala in 1610, 8vo. It is i:i thirty- 
 four cantos of blank verse, with a coai'se 
 portrait of the author ])refixed, giving 
 his age as fifty-five. There must be 
 more than thirteen tliou.sand dull verses, 
 in wliich history and pagan machinery 
 are mixed up in the wildest way. I 
 have seen it only in the Bibliotheque 
 de I'Arsenal, Paris.
 
 o58 BLASCO. MATA. V1KUE8. [Peiuou II. 
 
 genius than these historical and heroic ])oeins were 
 the long rehgious narratives in verse produced during 
 the same period and hiter. To one of these — that 
 of Coloma on ^' The Passion of Christ," printed in 1-370 
 — we have ah*eadv alluded. Another, '•The Universal 
 Redemption," by Blasco, first printed in 1-j84, shovdd 
 also be mentioned. It fills fifty-six cantos, and con- 
 tains nearh' thirty thousand lines, embracing the his- 
 tory of .man from the creation to the descent of the 
 Hol}^ Spirit, and reading in many parts like one of the 
 old Mysteries.-'^ A third poem, by Mata, not unlike 
 the last, extends through two volumes, and is devoted 
 to the glories of Saint Francis and five of his followers; 
 a collection of legends in octave stanzas, put together 
 without order or effect, the first of which sets forth the 
 meek Sahit Francis in the disguise of a knight-errant. 
 
 None of the three has any value."^ 
 * 474 * The next in the list, as we descend, is one 
 
 of the best of its class, if not the very best. It 
 is the "Monserrate" of Virues, the dramatic and lyric 
 poet, so much praised by Lope de Vega and Cervantes. 
 The subject is taken from the legends of the Spanish 
 Church in the ninth century. Garin, a hermit living 
 
 2' "Universal Redencion de Fran- and in full annor ; Tom. II., 1589, 4to. 
 
 ci-sco Hernandez Blasco," Toledo, 1584, A third volunit; was promised, but it 
 
 1589, 4to ; Madrid, 1609, 4to ; Alcala, never appeared. The five saints are 
 
 1612. He was of Toledo, and claims St. Anthony of Padua, Sta. Buenaven- 
 
 that a part of his poem was a revelation tura, St. Luis the Bishop, Sta. Berna- 
 
 to a nun. A Second Part, by his diua, and Sta. Clara, all ilinoiites. 
 
 brother Luis Hernandez Blasco, still St. Anthony jjreaching to the fishes, 
 
 longer, appeared in 1613, at Alcala, whom he addres.ses (Canto XVII.) as 
 
 which I have never seen. Gayangos hennanos peccs, is veiy quaint, 
 
 .says it is in twenty-five cantos, making Gayangos notices an allegorical poem 
 
 five thousand eight hundred octave of Mata, entitled "Cantos Morah-s," 
 
 stanzas, or more than fifty thou.sand which was printed at Valladolid in 
 
 lines. 1594, and of wliich he gives extracts, 
 
 ■^1 "EI Cavallero Assisio, Vida de tliat ajiproach nearer to jjoetry than 
 
 San Francisco y otros Cinco Santos, anything in the Life of St. Francis, 
 
 por Gabriel de Mata," Tom. I., Bilbao, It is in tliirteen cantos, each of which 
 
 1587, with a woodcut of St. Francis on has a long prose exposition of its moral 
 
 the title-page, as a knight on horseback meaning.
 
 €iiAP. XXVI 1.] VIRUES, THE MOXSEIIRATE. . 559 
 
 on the desolate inoiintaiii of Moiiserrate, in Catalonia, 
 i,s o-iiiltv of one of the oTossest and most atrocious 
 crimes of which human niiture is capable. Remorse 
 seizes him. Tie goes to Rome for absolution, and 
 obtains it only on the most degrading conditions. 
 His penitence, however, is sincere and complete. In 
 proof of it, the person he has murdered is restored to 
 life, and the Madonna, appearing on the wild mountain 
 where the unhappy man had committed his crime, 
 consecrates its solitudes by founding there the mag- 
 nificent sanctuary which has ever since made the Mon- 
 serrate holy ground to all devout Spaniards. 
 
 That such a legend should be taken by a soldier 
 and a man of the world as a subject for poetry would 
 hardly have been possible in the sixteenth century in 
 any country except Spain. But many a soldier there, 
 even in our own times, has ended a life of excesses in 
 a hermitage as rude and solitary as that of Garin ; ^^ 
 and in the time of Philip the Second, it seemed noth- 
 ing marvellous that one who had fought at the battle 
 of Lepanto, and who, by way of distinction, was 
 commonly called "the Captain * Virues," should * 475 
 yet devote the leisure of his best years to a 
 poem on Garin's deploraljle life and revolting adven- 
 tures. Such, at least, was the fact. The " Monserrate," 
 from the moment of its appearance, was successful. 
 Nor has its success been materially diminished at any 
 
 ^^ In a hermitage on a mountain near the diplomatic and military service of 
 
 Cordova, whei-e about thirty hermits his country, than for his high rank, - - 
 
 lived in stern silence and subjected to who led me up that rude mountain, 
 
 the most cruel penances, I once saw a and filled a long and Ix-autiful morning 
 
 person who had served with distinction with strange sights and adventures anil 
 
 as an officer at the battle of Trafalgar, stories, such as can be found in no 
 
 and another who had been of the hous(!- country but Spain, assured me that 
 
 holdof the first queen of Ferdinand VII. cases like those of the Spanish officers 
 
 The Duke de Rivas and his brother, who had become hermits were still of 
 
 Don Angel, — now (1862) wearing the no infrequent occurrence in their coun- 
 
 title liimself, but more distinguished as try. This was in 1818. 
 a poet, and for his eminent merits in
 
 560 • UUAVO. VALDIVIELSO. [Pkuiod 11. 
 
 period since. It has more of the proper arrangement 
 and proportions of an epic than any other of the seri- 
 ous poems of its class in the hmgnage ; and in the 
 richness and finish of its versification, it is not sur- 
 passed, if it is equalled, by any of those of its age. 
 The difficnlties Yirues had to encounter lay in the 
 nature of his subject and the low character of his 
 hero ; but in the course of twenty cantos, interspersed 
 with occasional episodes, like those on the battle of 
 Lepanto, and the glories of Monserrate, these dis- 
 advantages are not always felt as blemishes, and, as 
 we know, have not prevented the "Monserrate" from 
 being read and admired in an age little inclined to 
 believe the legend on which it is founded.^ 
 
 The '^' Benedictina," by Nicholas Bravo, was pidj- 
 lished in 1G()4. and seems to have Ijeen intended to 
 give the lives of Saint Benedict and his ])rin('ipal fol- 
 lowers, in the way in which Castellanos had given the 
 lives of Columbus and the early American adventurers, 
 but was probaljly regarded nither as a book of devo- 
 tion for the monks of the brotherhood, in MJiich the 
 author held a high place, than as a book of poetry. 
 Certainly, to the worldly, tliat is its true character. 
 Nor can any other than a similar merit be assigned to 
 tw^o poems for which the social position of their author, 
 Valdivielso, insured a wider temporary reputation. 
 
 ^^ Of Virues a noticp lias been already less. Not so the " Azuccna Silvestre " 
 
 given, (ante, p. 64, > to which it is only of Zonilla, 1845, which is a graceful 
 
 neces.sary to add here that there are version of the same legend, 
 
 editions of the Monsermte of 1588, In the "Jahrbuch fiir Hoinanische 
 
 IGO], 10(12, 1609, and 1805; the last und Englische Literatur," (Berlin, 1860. 
 
 (Madrid, Svo) witli a Preface written, I ])i). 1:59-16:3,) is an excellent life of 
 
 think, by Mayans y Siscar. A poem .Virues, and a judicious and tasteful 
 
 by Francisco de Ortega, on the same criticism of his works, by the Baron 
 
 subject, ajii>eare<l about the middle of von Miinch - B(dlinghausen, which I 
 
 the eighteenth century, in small (piarto, .should have been glad to have received 
 
 without date, entitled " On'gen, Anti- earlier, ^ — before I had jninted my ac- 
 
 guedail e Invencion dc nuestra Sefiora count of the dramas of Virues, in Chap, 
 
 de Monbcrrate." Jt is entirely worth- VIII. of this Period.
 
 C'li.vr. XXVH.] IIO.IEDA. 501 
 
 The first is on the liistory of Josepli, tlie Inis- 
 bsind of Mary, wi-itteii, apparently, * becanse * 47C) 
 Valdivielso himself had received in baptism the 
 name of that saint. The other is on the peculiarly 
 sacred image of the Madonna, preserved by a series of 
 miracles from contamination during the subjugation of 
 Spain by the Moors, and ever since venerated in the 
 cathedral of Toledo, to whose princely archbishop Val- 
 divielso was attached as a chaplain. Both of these 
 poems are full of learning and of dulness, enormously 
 long, and comprehend together a large part of the his- 
 tory, not only of the Spanish Church, Ijut of the king- 
 dom of Spain.-* 
 
 Lope's religious epic or narrative poems, of which we 
 have already spoken, appeared at about the same time 
 with those of Valdivielso, and enjoyed the success that 
 attended whatever bore the name of the great popu- 
 lar author of his age. But better than anything of 
 this class produced by him was the " Christiada " of 
 Diego de Hojeda, printed in 1611, and taken in a slight 
 degree from the Latin poem with the same title by 
 Vida, but not enough indebted to it to impair the au- 
 thor's claims to originality. Its subject is very simple. 
 It opens with the Last Supper, and it closes with the 
 
 2* "La Benedictina de F. Nicolas " Exposicion parafrastica del Psaltcrio " 
 
 Bravo," Salamanca, 1604, 4to. Bravo exists, I think, only iu the edition of 
 
 was a proiessor at Salamanca and Ma- Madrid, 1623, 4to. 
 
 drid, and died in 1648, the head of a Before the Benedictina, I might havn 
 
 rich monastery of his order in Navarre noticed the " Historia de San Ramon 
 
 (Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. II. p. 151). de Penafort," ec, "en coplas Castella- 
 
 Of Valdivielso I have spoken, ante, nas," by Vicente Miguel de Moradell, 
 
 Chap. XXI. His "Vida, etc. de San Barcelona, 1603, of which I found a 
 
 Jo.sef," printed 1607 and 1647, makes copy in the Bibliotheque de I'Arsenal 
 
 above seven hundred pages in the edi- at Paris, but it is among the poorest of 
 
 tion of Lisbon, 1615, 12mo ; and his the devout poems of the period, tliough 
 
 "Sagrario de Toledo," Barcelona, 1618, the language is not wanting in ])urity. 
 
 12mo, fills nearly a thousand; — both I might, also, notice "La Divina Se- 
 
 in octave stanzas, as are neai-ly all the mana," — a poem on the Creation, di- 
 
 poems of their class. The San Josef vided into seven days, by Joan Do.ssi, 
 
 is reprinted in the Biblioteea of Hi- (Barcelona, 1610, 12mo, tf. 248,)— but 
 
 vadeneyra, Tom. XXIX., 1854. The it is too poor. 
 VOL. II. 36
 
 562 DIAZ. FSCOBAII, AND OTHERS. [Pkkiod IL 
 
 Crucifixion. The episodes are few and a])|)ropriate. 
 except one. — tliat in which the dress of the Saviour in 
 the 4i:arden is made an occasion for describino; all lui- 
 man sins, whose allegorical history is represented as if 
 woven with curses into the seven ample folds of the 
 
 mantle laid on the shoulders of the expiatory 
 *477 victim, who thus *" bears them for our sake. 
 
 The vision of the future glories of his Church 
 granted to the sufferer is, on the contrary, happily con- 
 ceived and well suited to its j^lace ; and still better are 
 the gentle and touching consolations offered him in 
 prophecy. Indeed, not a little skill is shown in the 
 general structure of the poem, and its verse is un- 
 commonly sw^eet and graceful. If the characters were 
 draAvn with a firmer hand, and if the language were 
 always sustained with the dignity its subject demands, 
 the " Christiada " would stand deservedly at the side 
 of the '' Monserrate " "of Virues. Even after making 
 this deduction from its merits, no other religious poem 
 in the language is to be placed before it.^ 
 
 In the same 3^ear, Alonso Diaz, of Seville, published 
 a pious poem on another of the consecrated images of 
 the Madonna ; and afterw\ards, in rapid succession, we 
 have heroic poems, as they are called, on Loyola, and 
 on the Madonna, both hy Antonio de Escobar ; — one 
 on the creation of the world, b}^ Azevedo, but no more 
 an epic than the " Week " of Du Bartas, from which it 
 is imitated ; — one on the story of Toljias, by Caudi- 
 
 '■^ "La Christiada de Diego de Hoje- know only that he was a native of Se- 
 
 da," Sevilla, 1611, 4to, reprinted in lli- Wile, but went yonng to Lima, in Peru, 
 
 vadeuejTa's " Kiblioteca," Tom. XVIL, where he wrote this poem, and where he 
 
 1851. It has the nieiit of having only died at the head of a Dominican eonvent 
 
 twelve cantos, and, if this were the founded by himself. (Antonio, Bib. Nov., 
 
 proper place, it might well be com])ared Tom. I. p. 289.) There is a rij'ncimeiito 
 
 with Milton's "Paradi.se Regained" for of the "Christiada," by Juan Manuel 
 
 its scenes with the devils, and with de Beriiozabal, printed Madi'id, 1841, 
 
 Klopstock's "Messiah" for the .scene 18mo, in a .small volunii' ; not, however, 
 
 of ilii' (Tiicilixion. Of the author we an improvement on the original.
 
 Chap. XXVI 1.] EELIGIOUS NARRATIVE POEMS. 
 
 563 
 
 villa Santaren ; — and one on "The Brotherhood of 
 the Five Martyrs of Arabia," hy Rodriguez de Vargas; 
 the last being the result of a vow to two of their num- 
 ber, through wdiose intercession the author believed 
 himself to have been cured of a mortal disease. But 
 all these, and all of the same class that followed them, 
 
 — the " David " of Uziel, — Calvo's poem on " The 
 Virgin," — Salgado's on St. Nicolas de Tolentino, — 
 Vivas's ^' Life of Christ," — Juan DAvila's " Passion of 
 the Man-God," — the " Samson " of Enriquez Gomez, 
 
 — the " St. Thomas " of Diego Saenz, — another heroic 
 poem on Loj^ola, by Camargo, — and another 
 
 " Christiad," by Encisso, — which, taken * to- * 478 
 grether, brinfj; the list down to the end of the 
 century, — add nothing to the claims or character of 
 Spanish religious narrative poetry, though they add 
 much to its cumbersome amount. ^"^ 
 
 26 ' ' Poema Castellano de nuestra Se- 
 iiora de Aguas Santas, por Alonso Diaz," 
 Seville, 1611, cited by Antonio (]'>ib. 
 Nov., Tom. I. jx 21). — " San Ignacio 
 de Loyola, Poema He roico," Valladolid, 
 1613, 8vo ; and " Historia de la Virgeu 
 Madre de Dios," 1608, afterwards pul)- 
 li-shed with the title of " Nueva Jerusa- 
 len Maria," Valladolid, 162.5, ISmo ; 
 both by Antonio de Escobar y Mendoza, 
 and both the work of his youth, fiinm 
 he lived to 1668. (Ibid., p. 115.) The 
 last of these poems, my copy of which 
 is of the fourth edition, absurdly divides 
 the life of the Madonna according to 
 the twelve precious stones that form 
 the foundations of the New Jerusalem 
 in the twenty-first chapter of the Reve- 
 lation ; each fundamento, as the sepa- 
 rate portions or books are called, being 
 subdivided into three cantos ; and the 
 whole filling above twelve thousand 
 lines of octave .stanzas, which are not 
 always without merit, though they gen- 
 erally have very little. — " Creacion d(d 
 Mundo de Alonso de Azevedo," Roma, 
 1615, 12mo, pp. 270, praised by Rosell 
 in the Preface to Rivadeneyra's collec- 
 tion. Vol. XXIX., where it is reprinted. 
 ■ — ' ' Historia de Tobias, Poema por el 
 
 Licenciado Caudivilla Santaren de As- 
 torga," Barcelona, 1615, 12mo. It makes 
 about twelve hundred octave stanzas, of 
 very pure Castilian (the author boasting 
 that he was of Toledo, which he calls 
 " patria mia," c. xi.) ; but still I find 
 no notice of it, and know no copy of it 
 except my own. — "La Verdadera Her- 
 mandad de los Cinco Martires de Arabia, 
 l)or Damian Rodriguez de Vargas," To- 
 ledo, 1621, 4to. It is very short for 
 the class to which it belongs, contain- 
 ing only about three thousand lines, but 
 it is hardly possible that any of them 
 should be worse. — " David, Poema 
 Heroico del Doctor Jacobo Uziel," Ve- 
 netia, 1624, pp. -i-lO ; a poem in twelve 
 cantos, on the story of the Hebrew 
 monarch whose name it bears, written 
 in a plain and .simple style, evidently 
 imitating the flow of Tasso's .stanzas, 
 but without poetical S])irit, and in the 
 ninth canto absurdly bringing a Span- 
 ish navigator to the court of Jerusalem. 
 — "La Mejor Muger Madre y Virgen, 
 Poema Sacro, por Sebastian de Nieva 
 Calvo," Madrid, 1625, 4to. It ends in 
 the fourteenth book with the victory 
 of Ijcpanto, which is attributed to tlie 
 intercession of the Madonna and the
 
 664 
 
 URREA. 
 
 [Period II. 
 
 * 479 * Of an opposite character to these relig- 
 ious poems are the purely, or almost purely, 
 imaginative and romantic poems of the same period, 
 whose form vet brinQ:s them into the same class. 
 Their number is not large, and nearly all of them are 
 connected more or less with the fictions which Ai'iosto, 
 in the beo-innino- of the sixteenth century, had thrown 
 lip like brilliant fireworks into the Italian sky, and 
 which had drawn to them tlie admiration of all Europe, 
 and especially of all Spain. There a translation of the 
 '• Orlando Furioso," poor indeed, but popular, had been 
 pubhshed In- Urrea before 1-350. An imitation soon 
 followed. — the one already alluded to as made bv Es- 
 
 virtiie of the rosary. — "El Santo ili- 
 lagroso -Augiistiniano Sau Xicolas ile 
 Tolentino," Madiid, 1628, 4to, by Fr. 
 Fernando Camargo y Salgado, praised 
 by Gayangos. — "Grandezas Di\'inas, 
 Vida y iluerte de nuestro Salvador, 
 etc., per Fr. Duran Vivas," found in 
 scattered papere after his death, and 
 arranged and modernized in its lan- 
 guage by his grandson, who published 
 it (MadVid, 1643, 4to) ; a worthless 
 poem, more than half of which is 
 thrown into the form of a speech from 
 Joseph to Pontius Pilate. — " Pasion 
 del Hombre Dios, por el Maestro .Juan 
 Davila," Leon de Francia, 1G61, folio, 
 written in the Si)anish decimas of Es- 
 ]iinel, and tilling about three-and-twenty 
 thousand lines, divided into six books, 
 which are subdivided into cstancms, or 
 i-esting-jila( I's, and these again into can- 
 tos. — "Sanson Xazareno, Poema Ero- 
 ieo, por Ant. Enriquez Gomez," Kuan, 
 16.56, 4to, thorouglily infected with 
 Gongorism, as is another poem by the 
 .same author, half narrative, half lyrical, 
 called " La ( 'ul|)a del Piimer Peregrino," 
 Ruan, 1644, 4to. — "San Ignacio de 
 Loyola, Poeina Heroico, escrivialo Her- 
 nando Dominguez Camargo," 1666, 4to, 
 a native of .Santa Fe de Bogota, whose 
 poem, filling nearly four huixlred pages 
 of octave rhymes, is a fragment pub- 
 lished after his death. — " La Thoina- 
 siada al Sol <le la Iglesia y -su Do(;tor 
 Santo Thomas de Ai|uino, ec, por El 
 Padre Fray Diego Saenz," Guatemala, 
 
 1667, 4to, ff. 161 ; a life of Thomas of 
 Aquinas, in various verse, but, as one 
 of the aprovnciones saj's, "it is com- 
 posed of solid and massive theology." 
 
 — "La Christiada, Poema Sacro y Vida 
 de ,Jesu Christo, que e.scrivit) Juan Fran- 
 cisco de Enci.sso j'Moncon," Cadiz, 1694, 
 4to ; deformed, like almost eveiything 
 of the period when it appeared, with the 
 worst taste. — To these might be added 
 two poems by Alonso Martin Braones ; 
 
 — one called " Epitome de los Triunfos 
 de Jesus," Senlla, 1686, 4to, and the 
 other " E])itome de las Glorias de Ma- 
 ria," Sevilla, 1689, 4to. Each consists 
 of exactly five hundred octave stanzas, 
 very dull, but not in a style so obscure 
 as was then common. Tlie fii-st repeats 
 two hundred and fifty times the name 
 of Jesus, and the last reiieats as often 
 the name of Maiy ; facts which their 
 author announces as the chief merits of 
 his poems. 
 
 But if any one desires to know how 
 numerous are the narrative poems of 
 Spain, he needs only to read over the 
 "Catalogo de Poemas Castellanos he- 
 roicos, religiosos, histoiicos, fabulosos 
 y satiricos," prefixed by Don Cayetano 
 Kosell to Vol. XXIX. of Rivadeneyra's 
 Biblioteca, 1854. There are neaily 
 three hundred of them, and although, 
 after the Italian masters, and especially 
 Ta.s-so, became known in Spain, there 
 were many attemj)ts made to imitate 
 them, yet not one strictly epic ])oem was 
 produced, except Prince Ksquilache's.
 
 Chap. XXVII.] ESPINOSA. 505 
 
 pinosa in 1-555. It is called '• The Second Part of the 
 Orlando, with the True Event of the Famous Battle of 
 Roncesvalles, and the End and Death of the Twelve 
 Peers of France." But at the very outset its author 
 tells us that "he sings the great glory of Spaui;irds, 
 and the overthrow of Charlemagne and his followers," 
 adding significantly, " This history will relate the 
 truth, and not give the story as it is told hy that 
 Frenchman, Turpin." Of course, we have, instead of 
 the fictions to which we are accustomed in Ariosto, 
 the Spanish fictions of Bernardo del Carpio and the 
 rout of the Twelve Peers at Roncesvalles, — all very 
 little to the credit of Charlemagne, who, at the end, 
 retreats, disgraced, to Germany. But still, the whole 
 is ingeniously connected with the stories of the " Or- 
 lando Furioso," and carries on, to a considerable extent, 
 the adventures of the personages who are its heroes 
 and heroines. 
 
 Some of the fictions of Espinosa, however, are very 
 extravagant and absurd. Thus, in the twenty- 
 second * canto, Bernardo goes to Paris and over- * 480 
 throws several of the paladins; and in the 
 thirty-third, whose scene is laid in Ireland, he disen- 
 chants Olympia and becomes king of the island ; — 
 both of them needless and worthless innovations on the 
 story of Bernardo, as it comes to us in the old Spanish 
 ballads and chronicles. But in general, though it is 
 certainly not wanting in giants and enchantments, 
 Espinosa's continuation of the Orlando is less en- 
 cumbered Avith impossibilities and absurdities than the 
 similar poem of Lope de Vega ; and, in some parts, is 
 very easy and graceful in its story-telling spirit. It 
 ends with the thirty-fifth canto, after going through 
 above fourteen thousand lines in ottava rima ; and yet,
 
 o06 
 
 ESPIXOSA. 
 
 [Pkiuud II. 
 
 after all, the conclusion is abrupt, and we have an in 
 timation that more may follow.^' 
 
 27 "Seguiula Parte de Orlaudo," etc., 
 por Nicolas Espinosa, Zaragoza, 1555, 
 4to, Anveres, 1556, 4to, etc. The Or- 
 lamlo of Ariosto, translated b}'^ UiTea, 
 was published at Lyons in 1550, folio, 
 (the same edition, no doubt, which An- 
 tonio gives to 1556,) and is treated with 
 due sevcnity by the curate in the scru- 
 tiny of Don Quixote's library, and by 
 Cleniencin in his coninientary on that 
 passage (Tom. I. p. 120). Among the 
 othej- faults of this translation it omits 
 several passages in the original ; adds 
 others ; and deals much too freely with 
 the whole. Ex. gr. in Canto III. forty- 
 five stanzas are cut down to two, and 
 the canto itself made part of the sec- 
 ond, so that there is a change in the 
 numbering of the cantos after this to 
 the last, which Urrea makes the forty- 
 fifth, while Ariosto has forty-six. In 
 Canto XXI Y. he does ]\ot translate Ari- 
 osto's disparagement of the famous gift 
 of Constantine to the Pope, out of fear, 
 I suppose, of the Inrpiisition. In Can- 
 to XXXV. he adds .seventy stanzas in 
 honor of Spain. And so on. 
 
 Gayangos notes two other translations 
 of the Orlando, one in prose by Diego 
 Vaz(piez de Contreras in 1585, and the 
 other in verse, indeed, but in verse 
 which, from his account of it, is much 
 like prose, by Hernando de Alcozer, 
 and which was published in 1550, prob- 
 ably, I think, after Urrea's. 
 
 Not connected with th'e preceding 
 poems by their subjects, but, from their 
 general style of versification, belonging 
 to the same class, are several serious 
 rhymed books of chivalry, three of 
 which .should be slightly noticed. 
 
 Of the first I have seen only a single 
 copy. 1 found it in the Imperial Li- 
 brary at Vienna, which is uncommonly 
 rich in old Spanish books, chiefly in 
 consequence of an acquisition made be- 
 tween 1670 and 1675 of a curious and 
 valuable collection which seemed to 
 have been miidc. in Madrid by an ama- 
 teur — the Marques de Cabrega — who 
 lived in the period preceding. The 
 poem to which I refer is entitled " Li- 
 bro ])riniero de los famosos hechos del 
 Principe Celidon de Iberia por Goncjalo 
 Gomez de Luque, natural de la Ciudad 
 de Cordoba." (Alcala, 1583, 4to.) It 
 is a wild tale of chivalry in verse, be- 
 
 ginning with the maiTiage of Altello, 
 Prince of Spain, to Aurelia, daughter of 
 Aurelius the Emperor of Constantino- 
 ple, and extends through forty books 
 and above four thousand five hundred 
 octave stanzas of extravagant and unin- 
 teresting adventures. In the Prologo 
 the author calls it '■' pequeFaiela obra," 
 and at the end promises a continuation, 
 which, happily, never appeared. The 
 languagt! is good, — almost as good as 
 he boasts it to be, when he says : — 
 Canto blaiiflos versos que corriendo 
 Van con pie delieado e sonoroso. 
 
 The next is the ' ' Florando de Cas- 
 tilla, Lauro de Cavalleros," ec, (Alcala, 
 1588, 4to, tf. 168,) in ottava rima. It 
 is by the Licentiate Hieronymo de Hu- 
 erta, afterwards ph)'sician to Philip IV., 
 and author of several works noted by 
 Antonio. The Florando is an account 
 of a Spanish cavalier descended from 
 Hercules, who, after giving hunself up 
 to an elfeminate and luxurious life, is 
 roused by his great ancestor, in a dream, 
 to become a wandering knight so fair ; 
 and after travelling through many coun- 
 tries and encountering the usual num- 
 ber of adventures with discourteous 
 adversaries, giants, and enchanters, 
 achieves his destiny, and the whole 
 ends as might have been foreseen, 
 though somewhat abruptly. Gayangos 
 praises it for its poetry, and pronounces 
 it "obra no vulgar." Antonio says it 
 was translated into Latin, but does not 
 .say the Latin version was printed. (N. 
 Ant., Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. 587, and 
 Mayans y Siscar, Cartas de Varies Au- 
 tores, Tom. II., 1773, p. 36.) It is 
 reprinted in the Biblioteca de Autores 
 Espanoles, (Tom. XXXVL, 1855,) and 
 is in thirteen cantos, making alx)ut four 
 hundred octave stanzas. It ^eems to 
 me to be a poor romance, in imitation 
 of Ariosto. In the Preface to the re- 
 print of 1855, Huerta is said to have 
 been born in 1573 ; but as the ajirova- 
 cion of Ercilla to the Florando is dated 
 June 27, 1587, making him only four- 
 teen years old when his })rivUe(jio was 
 gianted, I .suppose there is some mis- 
 take in the matter. Huerta wrote sev- 
 eral other works, but the one to which 
 his name may best be trusted is, I 
 think, a translation of Pliny's Natural 
 History, of which parts were published
 
 Chap. XXYIF.] MARTIN DE BOLEA AND OTHERS. 
 
 ■OU i 
 
 * But no more came from the pen of Espinosa. * 481 
 Others, however, continued the same series of 
 fictions, if they did not take up the thread where he 
 left it. An Arag-onese nobk^nan, Martin de Bolea, 
 wrote an " Orkindo Enamorado " ; — and Garrido de 
 Villena of Alcala, who, in 1577, had made known to his 
 countrymen the " Orhxndo Innamorato " of Boiardo, in 
 a Spanish dress, pubhslied, six years afterwards, 
 his " Battle of Roncesvalles " ; *a poem which * 482 
 was followed, in 1585, by one of Agustin Alonso, 
 on substantially the same subject. But all of them are 
 now neglected or forgotten.'-^® 
 
 ill 1599 and 1603 ; but I have a copy 
 of tlie whole printed in 1624 and 1629, 
 in two vohimes, folio. It is written in 
 vigorous Sjianish, and was no doubt an 
 important contribution to the intel- 
 lectual resources of his country ; but 
 the illustrations that accompany it in 
 the form of miserable woodcuts show 
 how imperfect was the state of science 
 at that time in Spain, and how much 
 it needed more than Pliny or Huerta 
 coukl do for it. 
 
 The third of these poetical Romances 
 is not unlike the two others. At any 
 rate it is quite as grave and quite as 
 extravagant. It is entitled " (lenealo- 
 gia de la Toledana discreta," (Alcala, 
 1604,) and is only the First Part, as 
 announced by its author, Eugenio Mar- 
 tinez, who dedicates it to his native 
 city, Toledo. It begins in England, 
 which, he says, is ' ' poblada de Espa- 
 nola y Griega gente," and his purpose, 
 announced in his Prologo, is ' ' to give 
 an account of all the illustrious houses 
 in Spain." But he fills thirty -four 
 books and about three thousand octave 
 stanzas with a congeries and confusion 
 of stories and adventures, which concern 
 only imaginary personages, and have no 
 relation to any known families either in 
 Spain or in any other country of the 
 world. The poem gets its name from 
 a Toledau princess, Sacridea, who is 
 found in England in the third canto, 
 calling for help from all true cavaliers 
 against her cousin, who seeks to usurp 
 her royal rights ; but she is not more 
 prominent afterwar<ls tlian several of 
 the other figures, who aiqiear and dis- 
 
 appear, it is not easy to tell whJ^ The 
 style is better, I think, than that of 
 the "Celidon de Iberia," — the verse 
 flowing and the language pure, — and 
 it seems to have enjoyed some success, 
 for I find editions noted as of 1599 and 
 1608. But I have never seen any copy 
 of it, except my own, which is of 1604. 
 How long the "Toledana di.scieta" 
 would have been, if the author- had 
 continued it as lie begins, it is impossi- 
 ble to conjecture, for, as he does not 
 reach his subject in tliis First Part, lie 
 might have gone on in the same way 
 forever, and found no end in wandering 
 mazes lost. He, however, may have 
 stopjied, as Antonio intimates, i'rom 
 taking a religious turn ; for he printed 
 a poem entitled " Vida y Maitirio de 
 Santa Inez," Alcala, 1592, written after 
 the Toledaua. 
 
 28 i< Orlando Enamorado de Don Mai'- 
 tin de Bolea y Castro," Lerida, 1578 ; — 
 " Orlando Determinado, en Octava Ri- 
 ma," Zaragoza, 1578. (Ijatassa, Bib. 
 Nov., Tom. II. p. 54, and Gayaiigo.s 
 ad loc.) — The "Orlando Enamorado ' 
 of Boiardo is by Francisco Garrido de 
 Villena, 1577, and the " Venhidero Su- 
 ceso de la Batalla de Roncesvalles " is 
 by the same, 1583. (Antonio, Bib. 
 Nov., Tom. I. p. 428.)— "Historiade 
 las Hazanas y Hechos del Iiivciicible 
 Cavallero Bernardo del ("ai)iio, jior 
 Agustin Alonso," Toledo, 1585. Pel- 
 licer (Don Quixote, Tom. I. p. 58, 
 note) says he had seen one coj)y of 
 this book, and Clemenein says he never 
 saw any. — I have never met with either 
 of those referred to in this note.
 
 568 LUIS BARAIIOXA DK SOTO. [Pr.r.ioi) I[. 
 
 Not SO the "Angelica " of Luis Barahoiia de Soto, or, 
 as it is commonly called, '-The Tears of Angelica." 
 The first twelve cantos were puhlished in 158G, and 
 received by the men of letters of that age with an ex- 
 traordinary applause, which has continued to be echoed 
 and re-echoed down to our own times. Its author was 
 a physician in an obscure village near Seville, but he 
 was known as a poet throughout Spain, and praised 
 alike l)y Diego de Mendoza, Silvestre, Herrera, Cetina, 
 Mesa, Lope de Vega, and Cervantes, — the last of whom 
 makes the curate hasten to save " The Tears of An- 
 gelica" from the flames, when Don Quixote's library 
 was carried to the cour1>yard, crying out, " Truly, I 
 should shed tears myself, if such a book had been 
 burnt; for its author was one of the most famoiLs 
 poets, not only of Spain, but of the whole world." All 
 this admiration, however, was extravagant; and in 
 Cervantes, who more than once steps aside from the 
 subject on which he happens to be engaged to praise 
 Soto, it seems to have been the result of a sincere 
 personal friendship. 
 
 The truth is, that the Angelica, although so much 
 praised, was never finished or reprinted, and is now 
 rarely seen and more rarely read. It is a continuation 
 of the "Orlando Furioso," and relates the story of the 
 heroine after her marriage, down to the time when she 
 recovers her kingdom of Cathay, which had been vio- 
 lently wrested from her by a rival queen. It is ex- 
 travagant in its adventures, and awkward in its machin- 
 er}', especially in whatever relates to Demogorgon and 
 the agencies under his control. But its chief 
 *483 fault is its dulness. Its * whole movement is as 
 far as possible unlike the brilliant life and gay- 
 ^ ety of its great prototype ; and, as if to add to the
 
 Chap. XXVII. J ]5.Vl.HrENA, THE UEKNAKDO. 569 
 
 Avearisomeness of its uninteresting characters and lan- 
 guid style, one of De Soto's friends has added to each 
 canto a prose explanation of its imagined moral mean- 
 ings and tendency, which, in a great majority of cases, 
 it seems impossible should have been in the author's 
 mind when he wrote the poem.^^ 
 
 Of the still more extravagant continuation of the 
 " Orlando" by Lope de Vega, we have already spoken ; 
 and of the fragment on the same subject by Quevedo, 
 it is not necessary to speak at all. But the '- Ber- 
 nardo " of Balbuena, which belongs to the same period, 
 must not be overlooked. It is one of the two or three 
 favored poems of its class in the language ; written in 
 the fervor of the author's youth, and published in 1624, 
 when his age and ecclesiastical honors made him doubt 
 whether his dignity would permit him any longer to 
 claim it as his own. 
 
 It is on the constantly recurring subject of Bernardo 
 del Carpio ; but it takes from the old traditions only 
 the slight outline of that hero's history, and then fills 
 up the space between his first presentation at the court 
 of his uncle, Alfonso the Chaste, and the death of Ro- 
 land at Roncesvalles, with enchantments and giants, 
 travels through the air and over the sea, in countries 
 known and in countries impossible, amidst adventures 
 as wild as the fancies of Ariosto, and more akin to his 
 free and joyous spirit than anything else of the sort in 
 the language. Many of the descriptions are rich and 
 
 29 w Pi'imera Parte de la Angelica de able social relations is to be gathered 
 Luis Barahona de Soto," Granada, 1586, from a poetical epistle to hini by Chris- 
 4to. My copy contains a JIS. license to toval de Mesa (Rimas, 1611, f. 200) ; — 
 rej)rint from it, dated July 1 5, 1 805 ; but, from several poems in Silvestre (ed. 1 599, 
 like many other projects of the sort in ff. 325, 333, 334) ; — and from the no- 
 relation to old Spanish literature, this tices of him by Cervantes in his "Gala- 
 one was not carried through. A notice tea," and in the Don Quixote, (Parte I. 
 of De Soto is to be found in Sedano c. 6, and Parte II. e. 1,) togetlier with: 
 (Parnaso, Tom. II. p. xxxi) ; but the the facts collected in the two last places 
 pleasantest idea of hiin and of his agree- by the commentatoi's.
 
 070 BALBFEXA, THP: BERNARDO. [Pkkk.i- II. 
 
 beautiful ; worthy of the author of •• The Age of Gold " 
 and " The Grandeur of Mexico." Some of the 
 * 484 episodes are * full of interest in themselves, and 
 happy in their position. Its general structure is 
 fruited to the rules of its class, — if rules there be for 
 such a poem as the '• Orlando Furioso." And the ver- 
 sification is almost always good ; — easy where facility 
 is required, and grave or solemn, as the subject changes 
 and becomes more lofty. But it has one capital defect. 
 It is fatallv louii;, — thrice as lono; as the Iliad. There 
 seems, in truth, as we read on, no end to its episodes, 
 which are involved in each other till we entirely lose 
 the thread that connects them ; and as for its crowds 
 of characters, they come like shadows, and so depart, 
 leaving often no trace behind them, except a most in- 
 distinct recollection of their w ild adventures.^ 
 
 ^ " El Bernardo, Poema Heroico del in tlie second volume of liis "Poesias 
 
 Doctor Don Bernardo de Balbuena," Selectas, Mnsa Epica," witli skill and 
 
 Madrid, 1624, 4to, and 1808, 3 torn, judgment, to less than one tliird of tliat 
 
 8vo, containing about forty -five thou- length, 
 sand Unes, but abridged by Quintaua,
 
 * CHAPTER XXYIII. *4Rn 
 
 NARRATIVE POEMS ON SUBJECTS FROM CLASSICAL ANTIQUITY. — BOSCAN, MEN- 
 DOZA, SILVESTRE, MONTEMAYOR, VILLEGAS, PEREZ, CEPEDA, GONGORA, VIL- 
 LAMEDIANA, PANTALEON, AND OTHERS. NARRATIVE POEMS ON MISCELLA- 
 NEOUS SUB.IECTS. SALAS, SILVEIRA, ZARATE. MOCK-HEROIC NARRATIVE 
 
 POEMS. ALDAXA, CHRESPO, VILLAVICIOSA AND IIIS BIOStJUEA. SEKIOIS 
 
 HISTORICAL POEMS. CORTEREAL, RUFO, VEZILLA CASTELLANOS AND OTH- 
 ERS, MESA, CUEVA, EL PINCIANO, MOSQUERA, VASCONCELLOS, FERREIRA, 
 
 FIGUEROA, ESQUILACHE. FAILURE OF NARRATIVE AND HEROIC POETRY 
 
 ON NATIONAL SUBJECTS. 
 
 • 
 
 There was little tendency in Spain, during the six- 
 teenth and seventeenth centuries, to take subjects for 
 the long narrative and heroic poems that were so char- 
 acteristic of the country from ancient history or fable. 
 Shorter and in general more interesting tales, imbued 
 with the old national spirit, were, however, early at- 
 tempted out of classical materials. The " Leander " of 
 Boscan, a gentle and pleasing poem, in about three 
 thousand lines of blank verse, is to be dated as early 
 as 1540, and is one of them. Diego de Mendoza, Bos- 
 can's friend, followed, with his " Adonis, Hippomenes, 
 and Atalanta," but in the Italian octave stanza, and with 
 less success. Silvestre's " Daphne and Apollo" and his 
 " Pyramus and Thisbe," both of them written in the 
 old Castilian verse, are of the same period and more at- 
 tractive, but they were unfortunate in their effects, 
 if they provoked the poenjs on " Pyramus and Thisbe " 
 by Montemayor and by Antonio Villegas, or that on 
 " Daphne " by Perez, in the second book of his con- 
 tinuation of the " Diana." ^ 
 
 1 The story of " Leander " fills a large. Garcilasso's Works in the original edi- 
 part of the third book of Boscan and tion of 1543. — Diego de Mendoza's
 
 572 NARRATIVE CLASSICAL POEMS. [Peiuod IL 
 
 * 486 * The more formal effort of Romero de Cepeda 
 on •• The Destruction of Tro} -," published in 1582, 
 is not better than the rest. It has, however, the merit 
 of being written more in the old national tone than 
 almost anything of the kind ; for it is in the ancient 
 stanza of ten short lines, and has a fluency and facilitj' 
 that make it sound sometimes like the elder ballad 
 poetr}^ But it extends to ten cantos, and is, after all, 
 tlie stor}' to which we have alwa^-s been accustomed, 
 except that it makes ^neas — against whom the Span- 
 ish poets and chroniclers seem to have entertained a 
 thorough ill-will — a traitor to his country and an 
 accomplice in its ruin.^ * 
 
 " Adonis," which is about half as long, are sometimes agreeable. The next j'ear, 
 
 and on which the old statesman is said 1583, he published, partly in prose and 
 
 to have valued himself veiy much, is in partly in ballad verse, wliieh is not al- 
 
 his Works, 1610, pp. 48-65. — Silves- waj'sbad, a small popular book entitled 
 
 tre's poems, mentioned in the text, with "La antigua, memorable y sangrienta 
 
 Two othei-s, something like them, make destruycion de Troya, recojnlada de di- 
 
 up the whole of the second book of his ver.sos autores," (Toledo, 1583, 12mo, 
 
 Works, 1599. — Montemayor's " Ppa- 150 ff.,) but Lucas Gracian certified to 
 
 mus," in the short ten-line stanzas, is its hamilessness in 1581, and the colo- 
 
 at the end of the "Diana," in the edi- phon is dated 1584 ; — so that it was 
 
 tionof 1614. — The " PjTamus " of Ant. probably written before his " Infelice 
 
 de Villegas is in his "Inventario," 1577, Robo de Helena," and published after 
 
 and is in terza ririui, which, like the it. It is {loor enough. From .some of 
 
 other Italian measures attempited by the descriptions of Helen, Ajax, etc., 
 
 him, he manages awkwardly. — The one might .suppose that Cepeda was 
 
 " Daphne " of Perez is in various meas- their personal acquaintance, and was 
 
 ures, and better deserves reading in old drawing from the life. But this is not 
 
 Bart. Yong's version of it than it does wor.se tlian Berosus and Dares Phiygius, 
 
 in the original. — I might have added in whom he confides implicitly, rel3-ing 
 
 to the foregoing the " Pwamus and on them as sufficient authorities to con- 
 
 Thisbe" of Castillejo, (Obras, 1598, fl". tradict Homer. 
 
 68, etc.,) jileasantly written in the old The poem of Manuel de Gallegos, en- 
 
 Castilian short verse, when he was titled " Gigantomachia," and published 
 
 twenty-eight yeai-s old, and living in at Lisbon, 1628, 4to, is also, like that 
 
 Germany ; but it is so much a transla- of Cepeda, on a classical subject, being 
 
 tion fiom 0\id, tbat it hardly belongs devoted to the war of the Giants against 
 
 here. the Gods. Its author was a Portugue-se, 
 
 - Obras de Romero de Cepeda, Se- who lived many years at Madrid in in- 
 v\\\a, 1582, 4to. The poem alluded to • timacy with Lojie de Vega, and wrote 
 
 i-s entitled "El Infelice Robo de Elena occasionally for the Spanish stage, but 
 
 Rej-na de E.sparta por Paris, hifa-fdc, returned at la.st to his native country, 
 
 Troyano, del qua! sucedio la Sangri- and died there in 1665. His " Gigau- 
 
 enta Destruycion de Troya." It tje- tomachia," in about three hundred and 
 
 gins ah ovo I^dm, and, going through forty octave stunzas, diWded into five 
 
 about two thou.sand lines, ends with sliort book.s, is written, for tlie period 
 
 the death of six liundred thou.sand Tro- when it appeared, in a pure style, but 
 
 jans. The sliorter poems in the volume is a very dull poem.
 
 Chap. XXVIIL] NARRATIVE CLASSICAL POEMS. 573 
 
 * But with the appearance of Gongora, sini- * 487 
 plicity such as Cepeda's ceased in this class of 
 poems ahnost entirely. Nothing, indeed, was more 
 characteristic of the extravagance in which this great 
 poetical heresiarch indulged himself than his mon- 
 strous narrative poem, — half jesting, half serious, and 
 wholly absurd, — which he called " The Fable of Poly- 
 phemus"; and nothing became more characteristic of 
 his school than the similar poems in imitation of the 
 Polyphemus which commonly passed under the desig- 
 nation he gave them, — that of Fdbulas. Such were 
 the "Phaeton," the "Daphne," and the " Europa " of 
 his great admirer, Count Villamediana. Such were 
 several poems by Pantaleon, and, among them, his 
 " Fabula de Eco," which he dedicated to Gongora. 
 Such were Moncayo's " Atalanta," a long heroic poem 
 in twelve cantos, published as a separate work ; and 
 his " Venus and Adonis," found among his miscellanies. 
 And such, too, were Villalpando's " Love Enamored, or 
 Cupid and Psyche " ; and several more of the same 
 class and with the same name ; — all worthless, and all 
 published between the time when Gongora appeared 
 and the end of the century.^ 
 
 Gayaugos mentions an earlier "Gi- ^ These poems are all to be found in 
 
 gantomacliia " by Fi-ancisco de Sando- the works of their respective authors, 
 
 val, (Zaragoza, 1630,) and adds, that he elsewhere referred to, except two. The 
 
 l)ublished a volume of poems, entitled first is the "Atalanta y Hipomenes," 
 
 " Rasgos de Ocio," 8vo, without date. by Moncayo, Marques de San Felice, 
 
 A narrative poem in a hundred and (Zaragoza, 1656, 4to,) in octave stanzas, 
 
 thirty-four octave stanzas, by Doctor about eight thousand lines long, in which 
 
 Antonio Gual, was published at Na- he manages to introduce much of the 
 
 pies, apparently in 1637, to win the history of Aragon, his native country ; 
 
 favor of the Duchess of Medina de las a general account of its men of letters, 
 
 Torres, wife of the Viceroy. I have a who were his contemporaries ; and, in 
 
 copy of it, but can find no notice of it canto fifth, all the Aragonese ladies he 
 
 or of its author. It is an extravagant admired, whose number is not small, 
 
 and incredible love-story, sometimes The other poem is the "Amor Enamo- 
 
 gracefuUy told, — • sometimes with such rado," which Jacinto de Villalpando 
 
 affectations as were common during the published (Zaragoza, 1655, ItZino) un- 
 
 reign of Gongorism ; — but, on the der the name of " Fabio Clymente " ; 
 
 whole, it is better than the average and which, like the last, is in octave 
 
 of its class. stanzas, but only about half as long.
 
 574 HEROIC POEMS. SALAS. [Pkriod II. 
 
 * 488 ^ Of heroic poems on miscollaneoiis subjects, 
 a few were produced during the same period, 
 but none of value. The first that needs to be men- 
 tioned is that of Yague de Salas, on '' The Lovers of 
 Teruel." pul)hshed in 1616, and preceded by an ex- 
 traordinary array of Laudatory verses, among which are 
 sonnets by Lope de Vega and Cervantes. It is on the 
 tragical fate of two young and faithful lo\ers. who, 
 after the most cruel trials, died at almost the same 
 moment, victims of their passion for each other, — 
 the story on which, as we have already noticed, Mon- 
 talvan founded one of his best dramas. Salas calls his 
 poem a tragic epic, and it consists of twenty-six long 
 cantos, comprehending not only the sad tale of the 
 lovers themselves, which really ends in the seven- 
 teenth canto, but a large part of the history of the 
 kingdom of Aragon and the whole history of the little 
 town of Teruel. He declares his story to be absolutely 
 authentic ; and in the Preface he appeals for the truth 
 of his assertion to the traditions of Teruel, of whose 
 municipality he had formerly been syndic and was 
 then secretary. 
 
 But his statements were early called in question, 
 
 See, also, Latassa, Bib. Nuova, Tom. ems of the same sort, such as " La Luna 
 
 III. p. 272. To these shouhl be add- y Endiniion," by ^Lanelo Diaz Calle- 
 
 ed the " Fdbula de Cupido y Psyches," cerrada, "La Atahmta," by Cespedes, 
 
 by Don Gabriel de Henao' Monxazaz, "Jupiter y Enropa," by Jusepe La- 
 
 (Zaragoza, 1620, r2mo, ])p. ]02, ) not porta, etc. ; but none seems to be worth 
 
 better than its fellows; and t]u- Fdbu- more than a passing notice. An attempt 
 
 las of Theseus and Ariadne, and of Hip- was made in the eighteenth century to 
 
 pomenes and Atalanta, by Jliguel Co- revive something like this .style of nar- 
 
 lodrero de Villalobos, a young man of rativc j)oetry, or a parody on it, in "El 
 
 Baena, who published at Cordoba, in Eabulero ])or Francisco Nieto Jlolina," 
 
 1629, a small volume of poems, chiefly (Madrid, 1764, 4to,) where we have 
 
 sonnets, ejagrams, etc., which was sue- jesting versions of the stories of Poly- 
 
 ceeded in 1642 by another, called af- phemus, Arethusa, Leander, etc., often 
 
 fecteiUy "(Jolosinas de Ingenios," or written in a better style than was eom- 
 
 Sweetmeats for Wits. — He admired and mon in his time ; but like his " Perro- 
 
 foUowed Gongora, and addressed one of mai(uia," published in 1765, they are 
 
 hLs ])oems to liim. of small value. 
 Gayaiigos mentions .several other po-
 
 Chap. XXVIII.] SALAS. 575 
 
 and, to sustain them, he produced, m 1619, the copy 
 of a paper which he professed to have found in the 
 archives of Teruel, and Avhich contains, imder the (late 
 of 1217, a full account of the two lovers, with a notice 
 of the discovery and reinterment of their unchanged 
 bodies in the church of San Pedro, in 1555. This 
 seems to have quieted the doubts that had been raised ; 
 and for a long time afterwards, poets and tragic writers 
 resorted freely to a story so truly Spanish in its union 
 of love and religion, as if its authenticity were no 
 longer questionable. But since 1806, when the facts 
 and documents in relation to it were collected and 
 published, there seems no reasonable doubt that the 
 whole is a fiction, founded on a tradition already used 
 by Artieda in a dull drama, and still floating 
 about at the time when Salas lived, to * which, * 489 
 when urged by his sceptical neighbors, he gave 
 a distinct form. But the popular faith was too well 
 settled to be disturbed by antiquarian investigations, 
 and the remains of the lovers of Teruel in the cloisters 
 of Saint Peter are still visited by faithful and devout 
 hearts, who look upon them wdth sincere awe, as mys- 
 terious witnesses left there by Heaven, that they may 
 testify, through all generations, to the truth and beauty 
 of a love stronger than the grave.'* 
 
 * "Los Amantes de Teruel, Epopeya por Don Isidro de Antillon " (Madrid, 
 Tvagica, con la Restauracion de Espafia 1806, 18mo) ; — a respectable Professor 
 por la Parte de Sobrarbe y Conciuista of History in the College of the Nobles 
 del Reino de Valencia, por Juan Yague at Madrid. (Latassa, Bib. Nueva, 
 de Salas," Valencia, 1616, 12mo. The Tom. VI. p. 123.) It leavq,s no reason- 
 latter part of it is much occupied with able doubt about the forgery of Salas, 
 a certain Friar John and a certain Friar which, moreover, is done verj' clumsily. 
 Peter, who were gi-eat saints in Teiiiel, Ford, in his admiralde "IIand-P>ook of 
 and with the conquest of Valencia by Spain," (London, 1845, 8vo, p. 874,) 
 Don Jaume of Aragon. The poetry of implies that tlie tomb of the lovers is 
 the whole, it is not necessary to add, is still much visitc^d. It stands now in 
 naught. The antiquarian investigation the cloisters of St. Peter, whither, in 
 •of the truth of the story of the lovers is 1709, in conseiiuence of alterations in 
 in a modest pamphlet entitled "Noticias the church, their bodies were removed ; 
 Historicas sobre los Amantes de Teruel, — much decayed, .says Antillon, not-
 
 •576 blL\ KUIA. ZAKATi:. [rKiauD 11, 
 
 The attempt of Lope de Vega, in his •• Jerusalem 
 Conquered," to rival Tasso, turned the thoughts of 
 other ambitious poets in the same direction, and the 
 (|uick result was two so-called epics that are not (juite 
 forgotten. The first is the '■■ Macabeo " of Silveira, a 
 Portuguese, who, after living long at the court of Spain, 
 accompanied the head of the great house of the Guz- 
 mans when that nobleman was made viceroy of Naples, 
 and published there, in 1638, this poem, to the com- 
 position of which he had given twenty-two years. 
 The subject is the restoration of Jerusalem by Judas 
 Maccaba?us, — the same which Tasso had at one time 
 chosen for his own epic. But Silveira had not the 
 genius of Tasso. He has, it is true, succeeded in filling 
 twenty cantos with octave stanzas, as Tasso did ; but 
 there the resemblance stops. The " Macabeo.'* 
 * 490 besides being * written in the affected st3'le of 
 Gongora, is wanting in spirit, interest, and po- 
 etr}' throughout.^ 
 
 The other contemporary poem of the same class is 
 better, but does not rise to the dignity of success. It 
 is by Zarate, a poet long attached to Rodrigo Calderon, 
 the adventurer who, under the title of Marques de Siete 
 Iglesias, rose to the first places in the state in the time 
 of Philip the Third, and employed Zarate as one of his 
 secretaries. Zarate, however, was gentle and wise, and. 
 having occupied himself much with poetr}- in the daya 
 
 withstanding the claim set up that they time, but adds nothing to its probabil- 
 
 are imi»erishable. The story of the ity. Sen ante, jtj). 316-319. 
 
 lovers of Teruel has often been resorted ^ " Kl ilacabeo, Poenia Heioieo de 
 
 to, and, among others in our ovni time, Miguel de .Silveira," Xiipoles, 1638, 4to. 
 
 Viy .Juan Eugenio Harzenbusch, in his Castro (Biblioteca, Tom. I. p. 626) 
 
 drama, " Los Amantes de Teruel," and makes Silveira a converted Jew, and 
 
 by an anonymous author in a tale with Barbosa places his death in 1636 ; but 
 
 the same title, that appeared at Va- the dedication of his "Sol Vencido," a 
 
 lencia, 1838, 2 tom. ISmo. In the short, worthless ])oeni, written to Hatter 
 
 Preface to the last, another of the cer- the Vi(t'-(Juccn of Naples, is dated 20th 
 
 tificates of Vague de .Salas to the truth April, 1639, and was printed there that 
 
 of the story is j)roduced for the lii-st year.
 
 fJiiAP. XXVllI.] MOCK-HEROICS. () t I 
 
 of his prosperity, found it a pleiisant resource in the 
 days of adversitj. In 1048, he published " The Dis- 
 covery of the Cross," which, if we may trust jui inti- 
 mation in the '• Pei-siles and Sigismmida " of Cervantes, 
 he must have begun thirty years before, and whicli 
 had undoubtedly been finished and hcensed twenty 
 years when it appeared in print. But Zarate mistoolv 
 the nature of his subject. Instead of confining him- 
 self to the pious traditions of the Empress Helena and 
 the ascertained achievements of Constantine against 
 Maxentius, he has filled up his canvas with an impos- 
 sible and uninteresting contest between Constantine 
 and an imaginary king of Persia on the banks of the 
 Euphrates, and so made out a long poem, little con- 
 nected in its different parts, and, though dry and mo- 
 notonous in its general tone, unequal in its execution ; 
 some portions of it being simple and dignified, while 
 others show a taste almost as bad as that which dis- 
 figures the " Macabeo " of Silveira, and of quite the 
 same sort.^ 
 
 But there was always a tendency to a spirit 
 of caricature *in Spanish literature, — perhaps * 491 
 owing to its inherent stateliness and dignity; 
 for these are qualities which, when carried to excess, 
 almost surely provoke ridicule. At least, as we know, 
 parody appeared early among the ballads, and was 
 always prominent in the theatres ; to say nothing of 
 romantic fiction, where Don Quixote is the great 
 
 ^ "Poema Heroico de la Invencion is sufficient; hut that hv Antonio is 
 
 tie la Cruz, por Fr. Lopez de Zarate," more touching, and reads like a tribute 
 
 Madrid, 1648, 4to ; twenty-two cantos of personal regard. Zarate died in 
 
 and four hundred pages of octave stau- 1658, above seventy years old. Sema- 
 
 zas. The infernal councils and many nario Pintoresco, 1845, p. 82. Cervan- 
 
 other parts show it to be an imitation tes praises him l)eyond all reason iu his 
 
 of Tasso. The notice of his life by Persiles y Sigismunda, Lib. IV. caj). 
 
 Sedano (Parnaso, Tom. VIll. p. xxiv) 6, and elsewhere. 
 VOL. II. 37
 
 578 MOCK-HEROICS. [Pkuiod ii. 
 
 luoniiiiient of its glory for all countries and for all 
 ages." 
 
 That the long and multitudinous narrative poems of 
 Spain should call forth mock-heroics was, therefore, in 
 keeping with the rest of the national character; and 
 though the number of snch caricatures is not large, 
 they have a merit quite ecpial to that of their serious 
 prototypes. The lirst in the order of time seems to be 
 lost. It was written by Cosme de Aldana, who, in the 
 latter part of the sixteenth century, was attached to 
 the Grand Constable Velasco, when he was sent to 
 govern Milan. In his capacity of poet, Aldana un- 
 happily plied his master with flattery and sonnets, till 
 one day the Constable fjiirly besought liim to desist, 
 and called him " an ass." The cavalier could not draw 
 his sword on his friend and jiatron, but the poet deter- 
 mined to aveno^e the affront offered to his genius. He 
 did so in a long poem, entitled the '• Asneida," which, 
 on every page, seemed to cr}^ out to the governor, 
 '• You are a greater ass than I am." But it was hardly 
 finished when the unhappy Aldana died, and the copies 
 of his poem Avere so diligently sought for and so faith- 
 fully destroyed, that it seems to be one of the few 
 books we should be curious to see, which, after having 
 been once printed, have entirely disappeared from the 
 world. ^ 
 
 " The continual parody of the _r/wc/i9.sY) wliicli is a parody of a play with the 
 
 on the hero shows what was the tendency same title in the Oomedias de Lope de 
 
 of the Spanish stage in this particular. Vega, Vol. XXIV., Zaragoza, 1641. 
 But there are also i)lays tliat are entii'c- ^ Cosme was editor of the poems of 
 
 ly hurlesrjue, such as "The Deatli of liis brother, Francisco de Aldana, in 
 
 I'aldovinos," at the end of Cancer's 1593. (Antonio, Bib. Nov., Tom. I. 
 
 Works, 1651, which is a parody on the ]>. "i.'ie.) He wrote in Italian and 
 
 old ballads and traditions respecting ])rinte<l at Florence as early as 1578 ; 
 
 lliat jialadin ; and the "Cavallero de but Velasco did not go as governor 
 
 Olmedo," a favorite play, liy Francis- to Mihni till after 1586. (Salazar, 
 
 CO Felix de Monteser, which is in the Dignidade.s, f. 131.) The only ac- 
 
 voluine entitle<l " Mejor Libro de las count I have seen of the "Asneida" 
 
 Mejori's Cniiiiili:!^," Miidrid, 1653, and is in Figueroa's " Pasagero," 1617, f.
 
 CiiAi'. XXVIll.] THE CHRESPINA. 579 
 
 * Tlic next niock-luM-oic has also sometliinsr * 492 
 mysterious about it. It is called '• The Death, 
 Burial, and Ilonoi's of Chrespina Marauzmana, the Cat 
 of Juan Chrespo," and was published at Paris m 1604, 
 inider what seems to be the pseudonyme of " Cintio 
 Merctisso." The first canto gives an account of Chres- 
 pina's death; the second, of the pesames or condolences 
 offered to her children ; and the third and last, of the 
 public tributes to her memory, including the sermon 
 preached at her interment. The whole is done in the 
 true spirit of such a poem, — grave in form, and quaint 
 and amusing in its details. Thus, when the children 
 are gathered round the death-bed of their venerable 
 mother, among other directions and commands, she 
 tells them very solemnly : — 
 
 Uj) in the coucaye of the tih's, and near 
 
 That firm-set wall the north wind whistles by, 
 
 Close to the spot the crieket chose last year, 
 In a blind corner, far from every eye, 
 
 Beneath a brick that hides the treasure dear, 
 Five choice sardines in secret darkness lie ; — 
 
 These, brethren-like, 1 charge yoti, take by shares, 
 
 And also all the rest, to which you may be heirs. 
 
 Moreover, you will find, in heaps piled fiiir, — • 
 Proofs of successful toil to build a name, — 
 
 A thousand wings and legs of birds picked bare, 
 And cloaks of quadrupeds, both wild and tame. 
 
 All which your father had collected there. 
 To serve as trophies of an honest fame ; — 
 
 These keep, and count them better than all ])rey ; 
 
 Nor give them, e'en for ease, or sleep, or life, away.^ 
 
 127. Its loss is probably not a great thirteen leaves, printed in Milan with- 
 
 one, says Gayangos, if we are to judge out date, and is entitled "Versos de 
 
 by a volume of poems which he pub- Cosme de Aldana a su Capitan General 
 
 lished at Madrid in 1591, entitled " In- y Senor, el illustriss. y excellentiss. 
 
 vectiva contra el Vulgo y su Maldi- Sc^nor Juan Fernandez Velasco, Con- 
 
 cencia" ; which is full of bad taste. destable de Castilla. The flatterj'-, no 
 
 It may be found reprinted in the doubt, outweighs the poetry. — It is 
 
 Biblioteca de Autores Espanoles, Tom. not in the Biljlioteca of Kivadeneyra. 
 XXXVI., 18.55. I have a copy of the , „ , 
 
 unhappy collection of poems that pro- ^^ rjlilll^illl.l^l.l^'^JllSo, 
 
 Voked the Constables ire. It is in Junto aUunUe uionua autuno el grillo,
 
 580 THE MOSQUEA. [PKiitoD II. 
 
 * 493 * It is proljably a satire on some event notorious 
 at the time and long since forgotten : Ijut how- 
 ever its origin may be expLained, it is one of the best 
 imitations extant of the Itahan mock-heroics. It has, 
 too, the rare merit of being short.^*^ 
 
 Mnch better known than tlie Chrespina is the " Mos- 
 qnoii," by YiUaviciosa ; — a rich and fortunate eccle- 
 siastic, who was born at Signenza in 1589, and died at 
 Cnenca in Tf>-38. The Mosquea. which is the war of 
 the Hies and the ants, was printed in 101-5 ; but though 
 the anthor lived so long afterwards, he left nothing else 
 to mark the genius of which this poem gives nnqiies- 
 tionable proof It is, as may be imagined, an imitation 
 of the '' Batrachomyomachia," attributed to Homer, and 
 the storm in the third canto is taken, with some mi- 
 nuteness in the spirit of its parody, from the storm in 
 the first book of the ^Eneid. Still the Mosquea is as 
 original as the nature of such a poem requires it to be. 
 It has, besides, a simple and well-constructed ftible ; 
 and notwithstanding it is protracted to twelve cantos, 
 the curiosity of the reader is sustained to the last. 
 
 A war breaks out in the midst of the festivities of a 
 tournament in the capital city of the flies, which the 
 false ants had chosen as a moment when they could ad- 
 vantageously interrupt the peace that had long sub- 
 sisted between them and their ancient enemies. The 
 
 En un rincoii pecreto, oscuro y ciego, de Chrespina Maniuzmaiia, Gata de 
 
 KscouUiOa-s debuxo de un ludrillo, jj,^,j ChrespO, I'll tics cantos de OC- 
 
 Estan cinco Fiirdiuiis, lo que OS ruego , . ■ ^-j. i i„„ i ri„t;.;i, ^„«. 
 
 Como hern.anos partays, y geays hermanos tava nina, lutltulados la GatlOlla, COn - 
 
 En quanto ni;us vinit-re i vuestras manas. puesta por Cilltio ilerctisso, hspanol, 
 
 IlalLarev-s, i.<-m mas amontonada8, l'=ins, por Nic'olo Molinero," 1604, 
 
 De gloria y fania prosjxTos dcseos, I'iino, pp. 52. I knOW nothing Ot 
 
 Alas y pataji dc mil aves tragadas, x\n'. poeni OV its author, CXCf'l)t what 
 
 Z^^fo'iZSi b^ Xlaas i^ to be found in this volume, of wliich 
 
 I'or virtoriosas Henas y tropheos ; 1 have never met even with a biblio- 
 
 Estas tened en mas que la comida, graphical notice, and of which I have 
 
 Qu' el descanso, qu" el sueno, y que la vida. j.,.,.^ „„i^. „,j^ ggpy^ _ ^1,3^. belonghlg 
 
 ''■ ^* to my friend Don Pa,scual de Gayangos, 
 
 1'' " La Mucrti-, Kiiticrro y Honras of Madrid.
 
 Chap. XXVIII.] HISTORICAL POEMS. 581 
 
 heathen gods are introduced, as they 4i re in tlie Iliad, 
 — the other insects become alUes in the great quarrel, 
 after the maimer of all heroic poems, — the neighl)or- 
 ing chiefs come in, — there is an Achilles <jn one side, 
 and an iEneas on the other, — the characters of the 
 principal personages are skilfully drawn and sharply 
 distinguished, — and the catastrophe is a tre- 
 mendous battle, filling the last two * cantos, in * 494 
 which the flies are defeated and their brilliant 
 leader made the victim of his own rashness. The faults 
 of the poem are its pedantry and length. Its merits 
 are the richness and variety of its poetical conceptions, 
 the ingenious delicacy with which the minutest cir- 
 cumstances in the condition of its insect heroes are 
 described, and the air of reality, which, notwithstand- 
 ing the secret satire that is never entirely absent, is 
 given to the whole by the seeming earnestness of its 
 tone. It ends, precisely where it should, with the ex- 
 piring breath of the principal hero.^^ 
 
 No other mockdieroic poem followed that of Villa- 
 viciosa during this period, except " The War of the 
 Cats," by Lope de Vega, who, in his ambition for uni- 
 versal conquest, seized on this, as he did on every other 
 department of the national literature. But the " Gato- 
 machia," which is one of the very best of his efforts, 
 has already been noticed. We turn, therefore, again 
 to the true heroic poems, devoted to national subjects, 
 whose current flows no less amply and gravely, down 
 to the middle of the seventeenth centurj^, than it did 
 wdien it first began, and continues through its whole 
 
 -1 The first edition of the "Mosquea" making a good fortune out of it, Villa- 
 was printed in small 12mo at Cuenca, vic,io.sa exhorted his family, by his last 
 when its author was twenty-six years will, to devote themselves in all future 
 old; — the third is Sancha's, Madrid, time to its holy .service with grateful 
 1777, 12mo, with a life, from whieh it zeal. See, also, the Spanish translation 
 appears, that, be.sides being a faithful of Sismondi, Sevilla, 8vo, Tom. I., 1841, 
 officer of the In(|uisition himself, and p. 354.
 
 582 
 
 lUSTOlilCAL POEMS. 
 
 [Pi:i:iOD II. 
 
 course no less characteristic of tlie national genius and 
 temper than we have seen it in the poems on Charles 
 the Fifth and his achievements. 
 
 The fiivorite hero of the next age, Don John of Aus- 
 tria, son of the Emperor, was the occasion of two 
 poems, with which we naturall}' resume the exami- 
 nation of this curious series.^^ The first of them is 
 
 1- A vast liuuilier of tributes were 
 paid by couteiiiporary men of letters 
 to Don John of Austria ; but among 
 them none is more curious than a Latin 
 poem in two books, containing seven- 
 teen or eighteen hundred hexameters, 
 the work of a negro, who bad been 
 brought as an infant from Africa, and 
 who by his h'arning rose to be Professor 
 of Latin and Greek in the school at- 
 tached to the cathedral of Granada. 
 He is the same person noticed by Cer- 
 vantes as '"el negi-o Juan Latino," in 
 a poem prefixed to the Don Quixote. 
 His volume of Latin verses on the birth 
 of Ferdinand, the son of Philip II., on 
 Pope Pius v., on Don John of Austria, 
 and on the city of Granada, making 
 above a hundred and sixty pages in 
 small ({uarto, piinted at Granada in 
 1573, is not oul)' one of the rai'est 
 books in the world, but is one of the 
 most remarkable illustrations of the in- 
 tellectual faculties and possible accom- 
 plishments of the African race. The 
 author hhnself says he was brought to 
 Spain from Ethiopia, and was, until 
 his emancipation, a slave to the grand- 
 son of the famous Gonsalvo de Cordova. 
 His Latin verse is respectable, and, from 
 his singular success as a scholar, he was 
 commonly calleil Joannes Latinus, a 
 sobriquet under which he is frecpientlj' 
 mentioned. He was respectably mar- 
 ried to a lady of Granada, who fell in 
 love with him, as Eloisa did with Abe- 
 lard, while he was teacliing her ; an<l 
 after his death, which occurred later 
 than 1573, his wife and children erect- 
 ed a monument to his memory in the 
 church of Sta. Ana, in that city, in- 
 scribing it with an ei)ita])h, in wliicli 
 lie is styled " Filius jEthiopuni, pro- 
 lesque nigerrima patnim." (Antonio, 
 Bib. Nov., Tom. I. p. 71t}. Don Quix- 
 ote, ('A. Clemencin, Tom. I. p. Ix, note.) 
 Andre-as Scliottus in his " Hispaniae 
 Bibliotheca sive de Academiis et Bib- 
 
 liothecis," (1G08,) speaking of the city 
 of Granada, says : " Hie Joannes La- 
 tinus jEthiops, (res y)rodigiosa) nostra 
 tempestate rhetoricam per ninltos annos 
 publice docuit, juventutemque instituit, 
 et poema edidit in victoriam Joannis 
 Austriaci navalem." p. 29. 
 
 There is a play entitled "Juan Lati- 
 no" by Diego Ximenez de Enciso, in 
 the second volume of the "Comedias 
 Escogidas," (Madrid, 1652,) which gives 
 a full sketch of him. In the first act 
 he is a slave of the Duke of Sesa, ill 
 enough treated, kicked about and cuffed. 
 In the second, he is tutor to Dona Ana 
 de Carlobal, sister to an ecclesiastic of 
 rank, and makes love to lier through 
 his Sjianish vei-ses, and in other ways 
 after the Spanish fashion. In the third, 
 he rises to distinction ; obtains his chair 
 in the University ; and, favored by Don 
 John of Austria, is enfrancliised by the 
 Duke of Sesa, who, however, manumits 
 him very reluctantly, on the ground 
 that it is his great gloiy to hold so dis- 
 tinguished a man as his property. Ad- 
 dressing Don John, Juan Latino is 
 made to say, (f. 57,) in the fervor of 
 his gi-atitude : — 
 
 Vo prometo a vuestra .\lt«za. 
 Que he de quiUr a la Faiiia 
 Una pluina con tiue escriva 
 Sus memorables bazanas. 
 Y, conio muehos poemas 
 Toman nonibrc ilel qui! cantan, 
 Llauiare Austriada uii libro, 
 Pues canta Don Juan de .\ustria. 
 
 This i)romise, of course, was maile by 
 the ])oet half a century or more after it 
 had been fulfilled. 
 
 It may not be amiss here to add, that 
 another negio is celebi'ated in a play, 
 written with skill in good Castiiian, 
 and claiming, at the end, to be founded 
 in fact. It is called "El Valiente Ne- 
 gro en Flandes," by Andres de Clara- 
 monte, actor and plavwright, and is 
 found in Tom. XXXL, 1*538, of the 
 collection of Comedias printed at Bar-
 
 ciiAP. XXVIII.] cortp:real. 583 
 
 on *the battle of Lepanto, and was piiblislied *4i)5 
 in 1578, the year of Don John's untimely death. 
 The author, Cortereal, was a Portuguese gentlenum of 
 rank and fortune, who distinguished himself as the 
 commander of an expedition against the infidels on 
 the coasts of Africa and Asia, in 1571, and died before 
 1593 ; but, being tired of fame, passed the last twenty 
 years of his life at Evora, and devoted himself to 
 poetry and to the kindred arts of music and painting. 
 It was amidst the beautiful and romantic nature that 
 surrounded him during the quiet conclusion of 
 his bustling * life, that he wrote three long * 496 
 poems ; — two in Portuguese, which were soon 
 translated into Spanish and published ; and one, origi- 
 nally composed in Spanish, and entitled " The Most 
 Happy Victory granted by Heaven to the Lord Don 
 John of Austria, in the Gulf of Lepanto, over the 
 Mighty Ottoman Armada." It is in fifteen cantos of 
 blank verse, and is dedicated to Philip the Second, who, 
 contrar}^ to his custom, acknowledged the compliment 
 by a flattering letter. The poem opens with a dream 
 brought to the Sultan from the infernal regions by the 
 goddess of war, and inciting him to make an attack on 
 the Christians ; but excepting this, and the occasional 
 use of similar machinery afterwards, it is merely a dull 
 historical account of the war, ending with the great 
 sea-fight itself, which is the subject of the last three 
 cantos.^'^ 
 
 celona and Saragossa. The negro in etc., compuosta por Ilieronimo de Cor- 
 
 ([ue.stion, however, was not, like Juau tereal, Cavallero Portugues," s. 1. 1578, 
 
 Latino, a native African, but was a 8vo, with curious woodcuts ; probablj' 
 
 slave born in Merida, and was distin- printed at Lisbon. (Life, in Barbosa, 
 
 guished only as a soldier, serving witl) Toni. II. p. 495.) His " Suceso do Se- 
 
 great lionor under the Duke of Alva, gund<i Cerco de Din," in twenty-one 
 
 and enjoying the favor of that .severe cantos, on the siege, or rather defence, 
 
 general. of l)iu, in the Ea.st Indies, in 1546, wius 
 
 ^^ " Felici-ssinia Vi(?toiia eoncedida published in 1574, and translated into 
 
 del Cielo al Sehor Don Juan d' Austria, Sjvanisli by tlie well-known poet, Pedro
 
 584 JUAX EUFO. [Pekiod II. 
 
 Tlie other contemporary poem on Don John of 
 Austria was still more solemnly devoted to his mem- 
 ory. It was written hy Juun Gutierrez Rufo, a person 
 much trusted in the government of Cordova, and ex- 
 jDressly sent b\' that city to Don John, whose service 
 he seems never afterwards to have left. He was, as 
 he tells us, especially charged by the prince to write 
 his history, and received from him the materials for 
 his task. The result, after ten years of labor, was a 
 long chronicling poem called the '"' Austriada," printed 
 in 1584. It begins, in the first four cantos, with the 
 rebellion of the Moors in the Alpuxarras ; and then, 
 after giving us the birth and education of Don John, as 
 
 the general sent to subdue them, goes on with 
 * 497 his subsequent life and adventures, * and ends, 
 
 in the twenty-fourth canto, with the battle of 
 Lepanto and the promise of a continuation. 
 
 When it was thus far finished, which was not till 
 after the death of the prince to whose glory it is dedi- 
 cated, it was solemnly presented, both by the city of 
 Cordova and by the Cortes of the kingdom, in separate 
 letters, to Philip the Second, asking for it his especial 
 favor, as for a work " that it seemed to them must last 
 for man}' ages." The king received it graciously, and 
 gave the author five hundred ducats, regarding it, per- 
 haps, with secret satisfaction, as a funeral monument to 
 one whose life had been so brilliant that his death was 
 not unwelcome. With such patronage, it soon passed 
 through three editions ; but it had no real merit, ex- 
 
 de Pailillii, wlin ]iulilislii'il lii.s version Manuel ile Souza, who had held a dis- 
 
 in l.'i97. His " Naufraj^iii e Lastinioso tinj^iiisheil office in Portuguese India, 
 
 Suceso da Perdic^o de Manuel de Souza and who had ]>erished miserably by 
 
 de Sepulveda," etc., (Lisboa, l.'>94, 4to, shipwreck near the Cape of Good Hope, 
 
 ff. 206,) in seventeen cantos, was trans- in 1553, as he was returning home, 
 
 lated into Spanish hy Fnmcisco de Con- was a connection of Cortereal by mar- 
 
 trei-as, with the title of " Nave Trigica liage. Denis, Chroniciues, etc., Tom. 
 
 de la India de i'„!tiigal," ltJ24. This II. p. 79.
 
 Chap. XXVIII. | VK/ILLA CASTELLAXOS. 585 
 
 cept in the skilful construction of its octave stanzas, 
 and in some of its historical details, and was, therefore, 
 soon forgotten.*^ 
 
 In the neighborhood of the city of Leon there are — 
 or in the sixteenth century there were — three imper- 
 fect Roman inscriptions cut into the living rock ; two 
 (»f them referring to Curienus, a Spaniard, who had suc- 
 cessfully resisted the Imperial armies in the reign of 
 Domitian, and the third to Polma, a lady, whose mar- 
 riage to her lover, Canioseco, is thus singularly re- 
 corded. On these inscriptions, Vezilla Castellanos, a 
 native of the territory where the persons they com- 
 memorate are supposed to have lived, has constructed 
 a romantic poem, in twenty-nine cantos, called " Leon 
 in Spain," which he published in 1586. 
 
 Its main subject, however, in the last fifteen cantos, 
 is the tribute of a hundred damsels, which the usurper 
 Mauregato covenanted by treaty to pay an- 
 nually to the * Moors, and which, by the as- * 498 
 sistance of the apostle Saint James, King 
 Ramiro successfvdly refused to pay any longer. Cas- 
 tellanos, therefore, passes lightly over the long period 
 intervenins: between the time of Domitian and that of 
 the war of Pelayo, giving ordy a few sketches fi"om its 
 Christian history, and then, in the twenty-ninth canto, 
 brings to a conclusion so much of his poem as relates 
 to the Moorish tribute, without, however,'reaching the 
 
 1* "La Aus.tiiada <le Juan Rufo, Ju- ancc. (Baltasar PoiT(^iio, Dichos y He- 
 lado de la Ciiidad de Ccirdova," Ma- ciio.s de Pliilipe II., Brusidas, 1666, 
 drid, 1584, 12ino, if. 447. There are 12nio, p. 39.) The be.stot Riifo's works 
 editions of 1585, 1586, and 1587, and is his Letter to his young Son, at the 
 it is extravagantly praised by Cervan- end of his " Apotegnias," already no- 
 te.s, in a prefatory sonnet, and in the ticed ; — the same son, Luis, who after- 
 scrutiny of Don Quixote's library. Ru- wards became a distinguisheil painter at 
 fo, when, on some oeeasion, he was to Rome. The "Austriada" is reprinted, 
 be presented to Phili|) II., said he had with a good prefatory notice of th(^ au- 
 prepared himself fully for the reeep- thor, by Don Cayetano Rosell, in VoL 
 tion, but lost all presence of mind, from XXIX. of the Bibliotcca of Rivadeney- 
 the severity of that nfonarch's appear- ra, 1854.
 
 5S6 VEZILLA CASTELLAXOS. [Period 1 1. 
 
 ultimate limit he had originally proposed to himself. 
 But it is long enough. Some parts of the Roman fic- 
 tion are pleasing, but the rest of the poem shows that 
 Castellanos is only what he calls himself in the Prefiice, 
 — ^ a modest poetical historian, or historical poet ; an 
 imitator and apprentice of those who lune employed 
 poetry to record such memorable things as kindle the 
 minds of men and raise them to a Christian and devout 
 reverence for the saints, to an honorable exercise of 
 arms, to the defence of God's holy law, and to the loyal 
 service of the king." ^^ If his jDoem have any subject, 
 it is the history of the city of Leon. 
 
 In the course of the next four years after the ap- 
 pearance of this rhymed chronicle of Leon, we find no 
 less than three other long poems connected with the 
 national history : one by Miguel Giner. on the siege of 
 Antwerp by Alexander Farnese, who succeeded the un- 
 fortunate Don John of Austria as generaUssimo of 
 Philip the Second in the war of the Netherlands : — 
 another, in twent3-one cantos, by Edward or Duarte 
 Diaz, a Portuguese, on the taking of Granada by the 
 Catholic sovereigns ; — and the third by Lorenzo de 
 Zamora, on the history of Saguntum and of its siege hy 
 Hannibal, in which, preserving the outline of that early 
 story so far as it was well settled, he has wildly mixed 
 
 up love-scenes, tournaments, and adventures, 
 * 499 suited* only to the age of * chivalry. Taken 
 
 together, they show how strong was the passion 
 
 15 " Primera y Segiinda Parte del J[ariana admits it, and Lobera, in his 
 
 Leon de Espaua, por Pedro de la Ve- " Historia de las . Grandezas, ec, de 
 
 zilla Castellanos," Salamanca, 1.586, Leon," (Valladolid, 1596, 4to, Parte 
 
 12mo, tr. 369. The stoiy of the gross II. c. 24,) gi%'es it in full, as unques- 
 
 tribute of tlif damsels has probably tionable. Leon is still often called 
 
 some foundation in fact ; one proof of Leon de Esjyaiw, as it is in the poem 
 
 which i.s, that the old General Chronicle of Castellanos, to distinguish it from 
 
 (Parte III. c. 8) seems a little unwilling Lyons in France, Leon de Francia. 
 to tell a tale so discreditable to Spain.
 
 -Chap. XXVIII.] CIIKISTOVAL DE MESA. 587 
 
 for iiarnitive verse in Spain, where, in .so short a tinie^, 
 it produced three such poenis.^'' 
 
 To a siniihir result we should arrive from the single 
 example of Christoval de Mesa, who, between 1504: and 
 1612, published three more national heroic poems; — 
 the first on the tradition, that the body of Saint James, 
 after his martyrdom at Jerusalem, was miraculously 
 carried to Spain and deposited at Compostella, where 
 that saint has ever since been worshipped as the 
 especial patron of the whole kingdom ; — the second 
 on Pelayo and the recovery of Spain from the Moors 
 down to the battle of Covadonga ; — and the third on 
 the battle of Tolosa, which broke the power of Moham- 
 medanism and made sure the emancipation of the whole 
 Peninsula. All three, as well as Mesa's elaborate trans- 
 lations of the JEneid and Georgics, which followed 
 them, are written in otfava riina, and all three are dedi- 
 cated to PhilijD the Third. 
 
 Of their author we know little, and that little is told 
 chiefly by himself in his pleasant poetical epistles, and 
 especially in two addressed to the Count of Lemos and 
 one to the Count de Castro. From these we learn, 
 that, in his youth, he was addicted to the stud}^ of 
 Fernando de Herrera and Luis de Soto, as well as to 
 the teachings of Sanchez, the first Spanish scholar of 
 
 1^ "Sitio y Toma de Ambere.s, por toria de Sagunto, Niimancia, y Cartago, 
 
 Miguel Giuer," Zaragoza, 1587, 8vo. — compuesta por Lorencio de Zamora, 
 
 " La Conqui-sta que hicieron lo.s Reyes Natural de Ocana," Alcala, 1589, 4to, 
 
 Catolicos en Granada, por Edoardo Di- — nineteen cantos of ottava rima, and 
 
 az," 1590, 8vo, ff. 286, — a chronicle about five hundred pages, ending ab- 
 
 rather than a poem, in twenty-one ruptly and promising more. It was 
 
 books, beginning with the king of written, the author says, when he was 
 
 Granada's breach of faith by taking eighteen years old ; but though he lived 
 
 Zahara, and ending with the adventure to lie an old man, and died in 1614, 
 
 and challenge of Garcilasso de la Vega having printed several religious books, 
 
 and the fall of Granada (Barliosa, Tom. lie never went further with this poem. 
 
 I. p. 730); — besides wliicli, Diaz, who (Antonio, Bil). Nov., Tom. II. ]). 11.) 
 
 was long a soldier in the Spanish ser- But he published a volume of mi.scpl- 
 
 vice, and wrote good Gastilian, pub- laneous poetry at Madii<l, in 1592, 4to, 
 
 lished, in 1592, a volume of verse in entitled " Varias Obras," some of which 
 
 Spanish and Portuguese. — "De la His- are in Portuguese and some in Italian.
 
 •588 JUAX DE T.A CUEVA. [Period II. 
 
 his time ; but that^ later, he Hved five years in Italy, 
 much connected with Tasso, and from this time be- 
 longed entireh' to the Italian school of Spanish 
 * 500 poetry, to which, as his works show, * he had 
 always been inclined. But, with ah his efforts, 
 — and they were not few, — he found little favor or 
 patronage. The Count de Lemos refused to carry him 
 to Naples as a part of his poetical court, and the king 
 took no notice of his long poems, which, indeed, were 
 no more worthy of favor than the rest of their class 
 that were then jostling and crowding one another in 
 their efforts to obtain the royal protection.^' 
 
 Juan de la Cueva followed in the footsteps of Mesa. 
 His"Betica," printed in 1603, is an heroic poem, in 
 twenty-four cantos, on the conquest of Seville by Saint 
 Ferdinand. Its subject is good, and its hero, who is 
 the king himself, is no less so. But the poem is a fail- 
 ure ; heavy and uninteresting in its plan, and cold in 
 its execution ; — for Cueva, who took his materials 
 chiefly from the General Chronicle of Saint Ferdinand's 
 
 1' "Las Xavas de Tolosa," twenty the poor tragedy of "Pompeio," Ma- 
 cantos, Madrid, 1594, 12mo ; — "La drid, 1618, 12ino. The otttiva rima 
 Restauracion de Espana," ten cantos, seems to me very cumbrous in both 
 Madrid, 1607, 12mo ; — " El Patron de these translations, and unsuited to 
 Espana," six books, Madrid, 1611, their nature, though we are reconciled 
 12mo, with Rimas added. My copy to it, and to the tei-za rima, in the 
 of the last volume is one of the many Metamorphoses of Ovid, by Viaiia, a 
 proofs that new title-pages with later Portuguese, printed at VaUadolid, iu 
 dates were attached to Spanish books 1.589, 4to ; one of the hajty.iest transla- 
 that had been some time before the tions made in the jmre age of Castiliau 
 public. Mr. Southey, to whom this literature. The Iliad, which Mesa is 
 copy once belonged, expresses his sur- also supposed to have translated, wa.s 
 prise, in a MS. note on the fly-leaf, never printed. In one of his epistles, 
 that the last half of the volume .should (Rimas, 1611, f. 201,) he says he was 
 be dated in 1611, while the /«■< half is bred to the law; and in' another, 
 dated in 1612. But the rea.son is, that (f. 20.5,) that he loved to live in Castile, 
 the title-page to the "Rimas" comes though he was of Estremadura. In 
 at p. 94, in the middle of a .sheet, and many i)laces he alludes to his poverty 
 could not conveniently be cancelled and and to the neglect he sufl'ered ; and in 
 changed, as was the title-page to the a sonnet in his la.st publication, (1618, 
 "Patron de Espafia," with which the f. 113,) he .shows a poor, craven .spirit 
 volume opens. Mesa's translations are iu flattering the ("ount de Lemos, with 
 later ; — the ^Eneid, Madrid, 1615, whom he was oflended for not taking 
 12rno ; and the Eclogues of Virgil, to him to Naples. After this we hear 
 which he added a few more Kinias and nothing of him.
 
 CiiAP. XXVIII.] EL PINCIANO. 589 
 
 ,'^on, was not able to luoulcl them, as lie strove to do, 
 into the form of the " Jerusalem Delivered." The task 
 was, in fact, quite beyond his power. The most agree- 
 able portion of his work is that which involves the 
 character of Tarlira, a personage imitated from Tasso's 
 Clorinda ; but, after all, the romantic episode of which 
 she is the heroine has great defects, and is too much 
 interwoven with the principal thread of the 
 story. The general plan * of the poem, how- * 501 
 ever, is less encumbered in its movement 
 and more epic in its structure than is common in those 
 of its class in Spanish literature ; and the versification, 
 though careless, is fluent, and generally harmonious.^^ 
 
 A physician and scholar of Valladolid, Alfonso Lopez, 
 — commonly called El Pinciano, from the Roman name 
 of his native city, — wrote in his youth a poem on 
 the subject of Pelayo, but did not publish it till 1605, 
 when he w^as already an old man. It supposes Pelayo 
 to have been misled by a dream from Lucifer to under- 
 take a journey to Jerusalem, and, when at the Holy 
 Sepulchre, to have been undeceived by another dream, 
 and sent back for the emancipation of his country. 
 This last is the obvious and real subject of the poem, 
 which has episodes and machinery enough to explain 
 all the history of Spain down to the time of Philip the 
 Third, to whom the " Pelayo " is dedicated. It is long, 
 like the rest of its class, and, though ushered into 
 notice with an air of much scholarship and preten- 
 sion, it is written with little skill in the versification, 
 
 1^ "Couquista ile la Betica, Poema I. p. 285; and a number of liis iinpub- 
 Heroico de Juan de la Cueva," 1603, lished works are said to be in the pos- 
 reprinted in the fourteenth and fifteenth session of the Counts of Aguila in Se- 
 volumes of the collection of Fernandez, ville. Semanario Pintoresco, 1846, p. 
 (Madrid, 1795, with a Preface, which 250. Gayangos cites a volume of Cu- 
 is, I think, by Quintana, and is very eva's poetry, entitled "Obras," pub- 
 good. A notice of Cueva occurs in the lished at Seville in 1582. 
 Spanish translation of Sismondi, Tom.
 
 590 MOSQUERA AXD YASCOXCELLOS. [Peuiod II. 
 
 and is one of the nio.st wearisome poems in the hm- 
 
 11 
 gnage. 
 
 In 1G12 two more similar epies were pnblished. 
 
 The first is "■ La Numantina," which is on the sieo-e of 
 
 o 
 
 Numantia and the history of Soria, a town standino- in 
 the neighborhood of Nnmantia, and claiming to be its 
 successor. The author, Francisco Mosquera de Bar- 
 nuevo, who belonged to an ancient and distinguished 
 
 family there, not only wrote this poem of 
 * 502 * fifteen cantos in honor of the territory 
 
 Avhere he was born, but accompanied it with 
 a prose history, as a sort of running commentar3^ in 
 which whatever relates to Soria, and especially the 
 Barnuevos, is not forgotten. It is throughout a ver}- 
 solemn- piece of pedantry, and its metapli3\xical agen- 
 cies, such as Europe talking to Nemesis, and Antiquity 
 teaching the author, seem to be a good deal in the tone 
 of the old Mj^steries, and are certainly anything but 
 poetical. The other epic referred to is by Vascon- 
 cellos, a Portuguese, who had an imjDortant command 
 and fought bravely against Spain when his country was 
 emancipating itself from the Spanish yoke, but still 
 wrote with purity, in the Castilian, seventeen cantos, 
 nominally on the expulsion of the Moriscos, but really 
 on the history of the whole Peninsula, from the time 
 of the first entrance of the Moors down to the final 
 exile of the last of their hated descendants by Philip 
 the Third. But neither of these poems is now remem- 
 bered, and neither deserves to be.-'^ 
 
 19 " El Pelayodel Pinciaiio," Madriil, have never seen it. "La Patrona de 
 
 1605, 12nio, twenty cantos, filling above Madrid Restituida," by Salas Barba- 
 
 six hundred pages, with a poor attempt dillo, an heroic poem in honor of Our 
 
 at the end, after tln' manner of Tasso, Lady of Atocha, j)rinted in 1608, and 
 
 to give an allt-i^oriial inti-rpretation to rejirinted, Madrid, 1750, 12nio, which 
 
 the whole. I notice in X. Antonio, I posses.s, is worthless, and does not 
 
 " La Iberiada, de los Hechos de Scipion need to be noticed. 
 Afncano, por Oasjiar .Savariego de San- ^ " La Xumantina del Licenciado 
 
 ta. Anna," Valladolid, lOO.j, 8vo. I Don Francisco Mosquera de Uaruuevo,
 
 Chap. XXVIII.] 
 
 BEr.XAi;i)A FERIIEIKA. 
 
 591 
 
 * From tliis point oi' time, sucli narrative * 503 
 poems, more or less approaching an epic form, 
 and devoted to the glory of Spain, hecome rare ; — a 
 circumstance to be, in part, attributed to the success 
 of Lope de Vega, which gave to the national drama a 
 prominence so brilliant. Still, in the course of the next 
 thirty years, two or three attempts w^ere made that 
 should be noticed. 
 
 The first of them is by a Portuguese lady, Bernarda 
 Ferreira, and is called " Spain Emancipated " ; a tedious 
 poem, in two parts, the earlier of which appeared in 
 1618, and the latter in 1673, long after its author's 
 death. It is, in fact, a rhymed chronicle, — to the first 
 part of which the dates are regularly attached, — and 
 was intended, no doubt, to cover the wdiole seven cen- 
 turies of Spanish historj^ from the outbreak of Pelayo 
 
 etc., dirigida a la nobilissima Ciudad 
 de Soria y a sus doce Linages y Casas a 
 ellas agi-egadas," Sevilla, 1612, 4to. 
 He says "it was a book of his youth, 
 printed when his hairs were gray " ; but 
 it shows none of the judgment of ma- 
 ture years. 
 
 " La Liga deshecha por la Expulsion 
 de los Moriscos de los Reynos de Es- 
 pana," Madrid, 1612, 12mo. It was 
 printed, therefore, long before Vascon- 
 cellos fought against Spain, and con- 
 tains fulsome compliments to Philip 
 III., which must afterwards have given 
 their author no pleasure. (Barbo.sa, 
 Tom. II. p. 701.) The poem coirsists 
 of about twelve hundred octave stanzas. 
 
 "La Espana Defendida," by Christ. 
 Suarez de Figueroa, Madrid, 1612, 12mo, 
 and Naples, 1644, belongs to the same 
 date, making, in fact, three heroic po- 
 ems in one year. This last is on the 
 story of Bernardo del Carpio, and ends 
 with the death of Qi-lando, — the whole 
 di%'ided into fourteen books, and making 
 about fourteen hundred octave stanzas. 
 
 Gayangos votes here five or six he- 
 roic or narrative poems, that belong to 
 the same period, and, though of litth^ 
 value, and only a part of the crowd that 
 might be enumerated and that are found 
 
 in Rosell's list, should yet, perhap.s, 
 have some notice. 
 
 The oldest is of 1568, by Baltha.sar 
 de Vargas, and is entitled ' ' Breve Re- 
 lacion, ec, de la Jornada del Duque de 
 Alva desde Espafia hasta Flandes," — 
 a mere compliment, and a very poor 
 one, to the l)uke on his expedition to 
 Flauder.s, which did so mucli to ruin 
 Spain. 
 
 The next, "La Itianta [sic] Corona- 
 da," by Joao Soarez de Alarcam, (Alar- 
 con,) 1606, is on the story of the un- 
 happy Inez de Castro. 
 
 The third is "La Murgetana," by 
 Caspar Garcia Oriolano, 1608, on the 
 con(pxest of Murcia by Jaime I. of Ara- 
 gon. 
 
 The fourth is on a sea-fight of the 
 Marquis de Sta. Cruz, published in 
 1624, by Diego Duque de Estiada. 
 
 The fifth is on another sea-fight, but 
 won by Don Fadrique de Toledo, and 
 was ])ublished in 1624 by Gabriel de 
 Ayrolo Calan. 
 
 And the la.st is by Simeon Zapata, 
 on the expulsion of the Moriscos, which 
 it defends in the spirit of that ruthles,s 
 act of tyranny. It was printed in 1635, 
 and translated at once into Italian. 
 
 Ail are worthless, or nearly so.
 
 592 FIGUEIiOA. ElSQUILACHE. [rKKK.n IL 
 
 to the fall of Granada, but it is finished no further than 
 the reign of Alfonso the Wise, where it stops abruptly. 
 
 The second attempt is one of the most absurd known 
 in literary history. It was made by Vera y Figueroa, 
 Count de la Roca, long the Minister of Spain at A'enice, 
 and the author of a pleasant prose treatise on the 
 Rig-hts and Duties of an Ambassador. He beg-an bv 
 translating Tasso's "Jerusalem Delivered," but. just as 
 his version was ready to be published, he changed his 
 purpose, and accommodated the whole work — history, 
 poetical ornaments, and all — to the delivery of Seville 
 from the Moors by Saint Ferdinand. The transforma- 
 tion is as complete as any in Ovid, but certainly not as 
 graceful ; — a fjict singularly apparent in the second 
 book, where Tasso's beautiful and touching story of 
 Sophronia and Olindo is travestied by the correspond- 
 ing one of Leocadia and Ga.lindo. As if to make the 
 R-liole more grotesque and give it the air of a grave 
 caricature, the Spanish poem is composed throughout 
 in the old Castilian redondillas^ and carried through ex- 
 actly twenty books, all rimning parallel to the twent}- 
 of the "Jerusalem Delivered." 
 
 The last of the three attempts just referred to, and 
 tlie last one of the period that needs to be noticed, is 
 the " Naples Recovered " of Prince Esquilache, 
 * 504 which, * though written earlier, dates, by its 
 publication, from 1G51. It is on the conquest 
 of Naples in the middle of the fifteenth century by 
 Alfonso the Fifth of Aragon, who seems to have been 
 selected as its hero, in part at least, because the Prince 
 of Esquilache could boast his descent from that truly 
 great monarch. 
 
 The poem, however, is little worthy of its subject. 
 The author avowedly took great pains that it should
 
 I'liAP. XXVI II.] 
 
 KSgriLACIIK. 
 
 59: 
 
 have no more books than llie yEneid ; that it should 
 vioUxte no historical ])roprieties ; and that, in its epi- 
 sodes, machineiv, and style, as well as in its general 
 fable and structui'e, it should be rigorously conlbrnied 
 to the safest epic models. He even, as he declares, 
 had procured for it the crowning grace of a royal 
 approbation before he ventured to give it to the Avorld. 
 Still it is a liiilure. It seems to foreshadow some of 
 the severe and impoverishing doctrines of the next 
 century of Spanish literature, and is written Avith a 
 •squeamish nicety in the vei'sification that still fui'ther 
 impairs its spirit ; so that the last of the class to which 
 it belongs, if it be not one of the most extravagant, is 
 one of the most dull and uninteresting.^^ 
 
 21 " Ht'spana Libertada, Parte Pri- 
 inera, por Dona Benmnla Feireira de 
 Jjacerda, dirigida al ReyCatolicode las 
 Hespanas, Don Felipe Tercero deste 
 Nombre, nuestro Senor," (Lisboa, 1618, 
 4to,) was evidently intended as a com- 
 pliinent to the Spanish usurpers, and 
 in this point of view is as little credit- 
 able to its author as it is in its poet- 
 ical aspect. Parte Segunda was pub- 
 lished by her daughter, Li-sboa, 1673, 
 4to. Bernarda de Lacerda was a lady 
 variously accomplished. Lope de Vega, 
 who dedicated to her his eclogue en- 
 titled "Filis," the last work he ever 
 published, (Ol)ras Sueltas, Tom. X. p. 
 193,) compliments her on her writing 
 Latin with purity. She published a 
 volume of poetry, entitled " Soledades 
 de Husaco," in Portuguese, Spanish, and 
 Italian, in 1634, a good German trans- 
 lation of a jjart of which may be found 
 in Blumenkranz religioser Poesien aus 
 Sprachen des Siidens von C. B. Schlii- 
 ter, Pad(n'])orn, 1855. She died in 
 1644. 
 
 ' ' El Fernando, 6 Sevilla Restaurada, 
 Poeina Heroico, escrito con los Versos 
 de la Gerusalemme Liberata, ec, por 
 Don Juan Ant. de Vera y Figueroa, 
 Conde de la Eoca," ec, Milan, 1632, 
 4to, pp. 654. He died in 1658. An- 
 tonio, ad verb. See further about him 
 in Vol. III., Appendix ('. 
 
 "Napoles Reeuperada por el Key 
 VOL. 11. 38 
 
 Don Alonso, Poema Heroico de D. J'ran- 
 cisco de Borja, Princijie de Esfpiilache," 
 ec. Zaragoza, 1651, Ambere.s, 1658, 
 4to. A notice of his honorable and 
 adv'enturous life will be given, when 
 we speak of Spanish lyrical poetry, 
 where he was more successful than he 
 was in epic. 
 
 In the same year, 1651, another poem, 
 on the subsecpient concjuest of Naples 
 by Gonsalvo de Cordova, appeared at 
 Granada (4to, ff. 138, making about 
 six hundred octave stanzas). It is a 
 sort of life of the Great Captain ; but 
 though it contains an intimation of his 
 death, it really ends with his de[)arture 
 from Naples for the last time. It is 
 quite dull, and is entitled " Napoli.sea, 
 Poema Heroico, ec, por Don Francisco 
 de Trillo y Figueroa." He wi-ote lyri- 
 cal poetry, a volume of which, under 
 the title of " Poesias Varias," was j)rint- 
 ed at Granada in 1652; — some parts 
 of it national and simple in its style, 
 some affected and cidto, like Gongora, 
 whoTu he imitated. 
 
 There were two or three other poems 
 called hei'oic that appeared after these ; 
 but they Ho not need to be recalled. 
 One of the most absurd of them is the 
 "Orf('o Militar," in two parts, by Joan 
 de la Victoria Ovando ; the fir.st being 
 on the siege of Vienna by the Turks, 
 and tlie second on that of Buda, both 
 l)rinted in 1688, 4to, at Malaga, where
 
 594 PASSION FOK IIEKOIC rOE:MS. [Feuiud II. 
 
 * 50-5 * It is worth while, as we finish our notice of 
 this remarkable series of Spanish narrative and 
 •heroic poems, to recollect how long the passion for 
 them continued in Spain, and how distinctly they re- 
 tained to the last those ambitious feelings of national 
 greatness which originally gave them birth. For a 
 century, during the reigns of Philip the Second, Philip 
 the Third, and Philip the Fourth, they were continually 
 issuing from the press, and were continual!}' received 
 with the same kind, if not the same deo-ree, of fovor 
 that had accompanied the old romances of chivalry, 
 which they had helped to supersede. Nor was this 
 unnatural, though it was extravagant. These old epic 
 attempts were, in general, founded on some of the 
 deepest and noblest traits in the Castilian character; 
 and if that character had gone on rising in dignity 
 and developing itself under the three Philips, as it had 
 under Ferdinand and Isabella, there can be little doubt 
 that the poetry Ijuilt upon it would have taken rank 
 by the side of that produced under similar impulses in 
 Italy and England. But, unhappily, this was not the 
 case. These Spanish narrative poems, devoted to the 
 glory of their country, were produced when the na- 
 tional character was on the decline ; and as they sprang 
 more directly from the essential elements of that char- 
 acter, and depended more on its spirit, than did the 
 similar poetry of any other people in modern times, 
 so they now more visibl}^ declined with it. 
 
 It is in vain, therefore, that the semblance of 
 
 the feelings which originall}^ gave them birth is 
 
 ■ 
 
 their author enjoyed a military office ; was printed at Mahiga in 1663, is not 
 
 but neitlier, I tliinlc, was much read better. He says in it, that he wrote 
 
 beyond th<^ limits of the city that pro- his first jwems in 16-12, and that he 
 
 duce<l them. His "Ociosde Ca.stalia." served at Xa))les and at Vienna ; and I 
 
 a volume chielly of lyrical ver.se and iind tliat lie was alive in 1688, beyond 
 
 chieHy in the Italian nianner, which which 1 have no notice of him.
 
 Chap. XXVI II.] FAILUKE OF IIEIIOIC POETRY. 595 
 
 continued to the *la8t; for the substance is * 506 
 wanting. We mark, it is true, in nearly every 
 one of them, a proud patriotism, which is just as pre- 
 sumptuous and exclusive under the weakest of tlie 
 Philips as it was when Charles the Fifth wore half the 
 crowns of Europe ; but we feel that it is degenerating 
 into a dreary, ungracious prejudice in favor of their 
 own country, whicli pi-evented its poets from looking 
 abroad into the world beyond the Pyrenees, where they 
 could only see their cherished hopes of universal em- 
 pire disajDpointed, and other nations rising to the state 
 and power their own was so fast losing. We mark, 
 too, throughout these epic attempts, the indications 
 to which we have been accustomed of what was most 
 peculiar in Spanish loyalty, — })old, turbulent, and en- 
 croaching against all other authority exactly in propor- 
 tion as it was faithful and submissive to the highest ; 
 but we find it is now become a loyalty which, largely 
 as it may share the spirit of military glory, has lost 
 much of the sensitiveness of its ancient honor. And 
 finally, though we mark in nearly every one of them 
 that deep feeling of reverence for religion which had 
 come down from the ages of contest with the infidel 
 power of the Moors, yet we find it now constantly 
 mingling the arrogant fierceness of worldly passion 
 with the holiest of its offerings, and submitting, in the 
 spirit of blind faith and devotion, to a bigotry whose 
 decrees were w^ritten in blood. These multitudinous 
 Spanish heroic poems, therefore, that were produced 
 out of the elements of the national character when 
 that character was fjilling into decay, naturally bear 
 the marks of their oi'igin. Instead of reaching, by 
 the fervid enthusiasm of a true patriotism, of a proud 
 loyalty, and of an enlightened religion, the elevation
 
 596 FAILURE OF HEROIC POETRY. [Period II. 
 
 to which they aspire, they sink away, with few ^^xcep- 
 tions, into tedious, rhyming chronicles, in which the 
 national glory fails to excite the interest that would 
 belong to an earnest narrative of real events, without 
 gaining in its stead anything from the inspirations of 
 poetical genius. 
 
 END OF VOL. IL
 
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