Chapter II: Part 2

Like most Romanticists, Espronceda was intensely subjective. He interests by his frank display of his inner moods. Bonilla, in his illuminating article "El Pensamiento de Espronceda," states that the four essential points in the philosophy of Romanticism were: doubt, the first principle of thought; sorrow, the positive reality of life; pleasure, the world's illusion; death, the negation of the will to live. Espronceda shared all of these ideas. It is often impossible to say how much of his suffering is a mere Byronic pose, and how much comes from the reaction of an intensely sensitive nature to the hard facts of existence. There is evidence that he never lost the zest of living; but in his writings he appears as one who has been completely disillusionized by literature, love, politics, and every experience of life. Truth is the greatest of evils, because truth is always sad; "mentira," on the other hand, is merciful and kind. He carries doubt so far that he doubts his very doubts. Such a philosophy should logically lead to quietism. That pessimism did not in the case of Espronceda bring inaction makes one suspect that it was largely affected. There is nothing profound in this very commonplace philosophy of despair. It is the conventional attitude of hosts of Romanticists who did little but re-echo the _Vanitas vanitatum_ of the author of Ecclesiastes. Espronceda's thought is too shallow to entitle him to rank high as a philosophic poet. In this respect he is inferior even to Campoamor and Núñez de Arce. Genuine world-weariness is the outgrowth of a more complex civilization than that of Spain. Far from being a Leopardi, Espronceda may nevertheless be considered the leading Spanish exponent of the _taedium vitae_. He has eloquently expressed this commonplace and conventional attitude of mind.

Like so many other writers of the Latin race, Espronceda is more admirable for the form in which he clothed his thoughts than for those thoughts themselves. He wrote little and carefully. He is remarkable for his virtuosity, his harmonious handling of the most varied meters. He never, like Zorrilla, produces the effect of careless improvisation. In the matter of poetic form Espronceda has been the chief inspiration of Spanish poets down to the advent of Rubén Darío. Fitzmaurice-Kelly, with his happy knack of hitting off an author's characteristics in a phrase, says: "He still stirs us with his elemental force, his resonant musical potency of phrase, his communicative ardor for noble causes."

Much harm has been done Espronceda's reputation for originality by those critics who fastened upon him the name of "the Spanish Byron." Nothing could be more unjust than to consider him the slavish imitator of a single author. In literature, as in love, there is safety in numbers, and the writer who was influenced by Calderón, Tasso, Milton, Goethe, Béranger, Hugo, Shakespeare, and Scott was no mere satellite to Byron. Señor Cascales is so sensitive on the point that he is scarcely willing to admit that Byron exerted any influence whatsoever upon Espronceda. The truth is that Byron did influence Espronceda profoundly, as Churchman has sufficiently proved by citing many instances of borrowings from the English poet, where resemblance in matters of detail is wholly conclusive; but it is another matter to assert that Espronceda was always Byronic or had no originality of his own.

In considering Espronceda's writings in detail, we need concern ourselves little with his dramatic and prose writings. The quickest road to literary celebrity was the writing of a successful play. Espronceda seems never to have completely relinquished the hope of achieving such a success. His first attempt was a three-act verse comedy, "Ni el Tío ni el Sobrino" (1834), written in collaboration with Antonio Ros de Olano. Larra censured it for its insipidity and lack of plan. A more ambitious effort was "Amor venga sus agravios" (1838), written in collaboration with Eugenio Moreno López. This was a five-act costume play, in prose, portraying the life at the court of Philip IV. It was produced without regard to expense, but with indifferent success. Espronceda's most ambitious play was never staged, and has only recently become easily accessible: this was "Blanca de Borbón," a historical drama of the times of Peter the Cruel in five acts, in verse. The first two acts were written in Espronceda's early Classic manner; the last three, written at a later period, are Romantic in tone. The influence of "Macbeth" is apparent. "Blanca de Borbón" could never be a success on the stage. The verse, too, is not worthy of the author. Espronceda was too impetuous a writer to comply with the restrictions of dramatic technique. The dramatic passages in "El Estudiante de Salamanca" and "El Diablo Mundo" are his best compositions in dialogue.

"Sancho Saldaña" is Espronceda's most important prose work. It is a historical novel of the thirteenth century, written frankly in imitation of Walter Scott's Waverley Novels. The romance contains many tiresome descriptions of scenery, and drags along tediously as most old-fashioned novels did. But Espronceda had none of Sir Walter's archaeological erudition, none of his ability to seize the characteristics of an epoch, and above all none of his skill as a creator of interesting characters. The personages in "Sancho Saldaña" fail to interest. The most that can be said of the work is that among the numerous imitations of Scott's novels which appeared at the time it is neither the best nor the worst. Of his shorter prose works only two, "De Gibraltar a Lisboa, viaje histórico" and "Un Recuerdo," are easily accessible. They are vivid portrayals of certain episodes of his exile, and may still be read with interest. His most important polemical work is "El Ministerio Mendizábal" (Madrid, 1836). In this screed we find the fiery radical attacking as unsatisfactory the ultra-liberal Mendizábal. This and shorter political articles interest the historian and the biographer, but hardly count as literature. His rare attempts at literary criticism have even less value.

Espronceda shows true greatness only as a lyric poet. For spirit and perfection of form what could be more perfect than the "Canción del Pirata"? Like Byron in the "Corsair," he extols the lawless liberty of the buccaneer. Byron was here his inspiration rather than Hugo. The "Chanson de Pirates" cannot stand comparison with either work. But Espronceda's indebtedness to Byron was in this case very slight. He has made the theme completely his own. "El Mendigo" and "El Canto del Cosaco," both anarchistic in sentiment, were inspired by Béranger. Once more Espronceda has improved upon his models, "Les Gueux" and "Le Chant du Cosaque." Compare Espronceda's refrain in the "Cossack Song" with Béranger's in the work which suggested it:

¡Hurra, Cosacos del desierto! ¡Hurra!
La Europa os brinda espléndido botín
Sangrienta charca sus campiñas sean,
De los grajos su ejército festín.

Hennis d'orgueil, o mon coursier fidèle!
Et foule aux pieds les peuples et les rois.

The "Canto del Cosaco" was a prime favorite with the revolutionary youth of Spain, who thundered out the "hurras" with telling effect. "El Reo de Muerte" and "El Verdugo" are in a similar vein, though much inferior. "Serenata," "A la Noche," "El Pescador" (reminiscent of Goethe), "A una Estrella," and "A una Rosa, soneto" are lighter works. They make up in grace what they lack in vigor. "El Himno al Sol" is the most perfect example of Espronceda's Classic manner, and is rightly considered one of his masterpieces. It challenges comparison with the Duque de Rivas' very similar poem. Of the numerous patriotic poems "Al Dos de Mayo" and "A la Patria" deserve especial mention. He attempted satire in "El Pastor Clasiquino," recently reprinted by Le Gentil from "El Artista." In this poem he assails academic poetry like that produced by his old fellow-academicians of the Myrtle. It betrays the peevishness of a Romanticist writing when Romanticism was already on the wane.

"El Diablo Mundo," Espronceda's most ambitious work, is commonly considered his masterpiece; an unfinished masterpiece, however. Even if death had spared him, it is doubtful if he could have finished so all-embracing a theme as he proposed:

Nada menos te ofrezco que un poema
Con lances raros y revuelto asunto,
De nuestro mundo y sociedad emblema....
Fiel traslado ha de ser, cierto trasunto
De la vida del hombre y la quimera
Tras de que va la humanidad entera.
Batallas, tempestades, amoríos,
Por mar y tierra, lances, descripciones
De campos y ciudades, desafíos,
Y el desastre y furor de las pasiones,
Goces, dichas, aciertos, desvaríos,
Con algunas morales reflexiones
Acerca de la vida y de la muerte,
De mi propia cosecha, que es mi fuerte.

Adam, hero of the epic, is introduced in Canto I as an aged scholar disillusioned with life, but dreading the proximity of Death, with whom he converses in a vision. The Goddess of Life grants him the youth of Faust and the immortality of the Wandering Jew. Unlike either, he has the physical and mental characteristics of an adult joined to the naïveté of a child. In Canto III Adam appears in a _casa de huéspedes_, naked and poor, oblivious of the past, without the use of language, with longings for liberty and action. Here his disillusionment begins. His nakedness shocks public morality; and the innocent Adam who is hostile to nobody, and in whom the brilliant spectacle of nature produces nothing but rejoicing, receives blows, stonings, and imprisonment from his neighbors. Childlike he touches the bayonet of one of his captors, and is wounded. This symbolizes the world's hostility to the innocent. In Canto IV we find Adam in prison. His teachers are criminals. He was born for good; society instructs him in evil. In Canto V he experiences love with the _manola_ Salada, but sees in this passion nothing but impurity. He longs for higher things. Circumstances abase him to crime. He joins a band of burglars, and, falling in love with the lady whose house they are pillaging, protects her against the gang. In Canto VI he continues along his path of sorrow. He enters a house where a beautiful girl is dying, while in another room revelers are making merry. This leads him to speculate on life's mysteries and to reason for himself. The poem ends where Adam has become thoroughly sophisticated. He is now like any other man.

Evidently it was the poet's intention to make Adam go through a series of adventures in various walks of life, everywhere experiencing disillusionment. In spite of the elaborate prospectus quoted above, we may agree with Piñeyro that the poet started writing with only the haziest outline planned beforehand. Espronceda frankly reveals to us his methods of poetic composition:

¡Oh cómo cansa el orden! no hay locura
Igual a la del lógico severo.

And again:

Terco escribo en mi loco desvarío
Sin ton ni són, y para gusto mío....
Sin regla ni compás canta mi lira:
Sólo mi ardiente corazón me inspira!

"El Diablo Mundo" is no mere imitation of Byron's "Don Juan" and Goethe's "Faust," though the influence of each is marked. It has numerous merits and originalities of its own. Inferior as Espronceda is to Byron in wit and to Goethe in depth, he can vie with either as a harmonious versifier.

The philosophy of "El Diablo Mundo" is the commonplace pessimism of Romanticism. The following excerpt shows how the author's skepticism leads him to doubt his very doubts; hence his return to a questioning acceptance of Christianity:

Las creencias que abandonas,
Los templos, las religiones
Que pasaron, y que luego
Por mentira reconoces,
¿Son quizá menos mentira
Que las que ahora te forges?
¿No serán tal vez verdades
Los que tú juzgas errores?

Canto II of "El Diablo Mundo" consists of the poem "A Teresa. Descansa en Paz." This has not the slightest connection with the rest of the poem, and can only be understood as a separate unity. It is included in the present collection because it is the supreme expression of our poet's subjective method. As such it stands in excellent contrast to "El Estudiante de Salamanca," which is purely objective. No reader knows Espronceda who has read merely his objective poems. For self-revelation "A Jarifa en una Orgía" alone may be compared with "A Teresa." We may agree with Escosura that Espronceda is here giving vent to his rancor rather than to his grief, that it is the _menos hidalgo_ of all his writings. But for once we may be sure that the poet is writing under the stress of genuine emotion. For once he is free from posing.

"THE STUDENT OF SALAMANCA"

"El Estudiante de Salamanca" represents the synthesis of two well-known Spanish legends, the Don Juan Tenorio legend and the Miguel Mañara legend. The first of these may be briefly stated as follows: Don Juan Tenorio was a young aristocrat of Seville famous for his dissolute life, a gambler, blasphemer, duelist, and seducer of women. Among numerous other victims, he deceives Doña Ana de Ulloa, daughter of the Comendador de Ulloa. The latter challenges Don Juan to a duel, and falls. Later Don Juan enters the church where the Commander lies buried and insults his stone statue, after which he invites the statue to sup with him that night. At midnight Don Juan and his friends are making merry when a knock is heard at the door and the stone guest enters. Don Juan, who does not lose his bravery even in the presence of the supernatural, plays the host, maintaining his air of insulting banter. At the end of the evening the guest departs, offering to repay the hospitality the following night if Don Juan will visit his tomb at midnight. Though friends try to dissuade him, Don Juan fearlessly accepts the invitation. At the appointed hour he visits the tomb. Flames emerge from it, and Don Juan pays the penalty of his misdeeds, dying without confession.

This is the outline of the story as told by Tirso de Molina in "El Burlador de Sevilla o el Convidado de Piedra." The same theme has been treated by Molière, Goldoni, Mozart, Byron, and Zorrilla, to mention but a few of the hundreds of writers who have utilized it. In the hands of non-Spanish writers the character of Don Juan loses the greater part of its essential nobility. To them Don Juan is the type of libertine and little more. He was a prime favorite with those Romanticists who, like Gautier, felt "Il est indécent et mauvais ton d'être vertueux." But as conceived in Spain Don Juan's libertinage is wholly subsidiary and incidental. He is a superman whose soaring ambition mounts so high that earth cannot satisfy it. The bravest may be permitted to falter in the presence of the supernatural; but Don Juan fears neither heaven nor hell. His bravery transcends all known standards, and this one virtue, though it does not save him from hell, redeems him in popular esteem.

Don Félix de Montemar is the typical Don Juan type, a libertine, gambler, blasphemer, heartless seducer, but superhumanly brave. Yet the plot of Espronceda's poem bears closer resemblance to the story told of Miguel Mañara.

Miguel Mañara (often erroneously spelled Maraña) Vicentelo de Leca (1626-1679) was an alderman (_veintecuatro_) of Seville and a knight of Calatrava. As a youth his character resembled that of Don Juan. One day some hams sent to him from the country were intercepted by the customs. He started out to punish the offending officers, but on the way repented and thenceforth led a virtuous life. In 1661, after his wife's death, he entered the Hermandad de la Caridad, later becoming superior of that order. In his will he endowed the brotherhood with all his wealth and requested that he be buried under the threshold of the chapel of San Jorge. His sole epitaph was to be "Here repose the bones and ashes of the worst man who ever existed in the world." Don Miguel's biography was written by his friend the Jesuit Juan de Cardeñas and was added to by Diego López de Haro, "Breve relación de la muerte, de la vida y virtudes de Don Miguel de Mañara," Seville, 1680.

There soon sprang up a legend around the name of Mañara. He is said to have fallen in love with the statue on the Giralda tower. On one occasion the devil gave him a light for his cigar, reaching across the Guadalquivir to do so. Again, he pursued a woman into the very cathedral, forcibly pulled aside her mantilla and discovered a skeleton. Yet more surprising, he was present, when still alive, at his own funeral in the Church of Santiago. But these stories associated with the name of Mañara are much older than he. Antonio de Torquemada, "Jardín de Flores Curiosas," Salamanca, 1570, tells of an unnamed knight who fell in love with a nun. He enters her convent with false keys only to find a funeral in progress. On inquiring the name of the deceased, he is told that it is himself. He then runs home pursued by two devils in the form of dogs who tear him to pieces after he has made pious repentance. Cristóbal Bravo turned this story into verse, Toledo, 1572. One or other of these versions appears to have been the source of Zorrilla's "El Capitán Montoya." Gaspar Cristóbal Lozano, "Soledades de la Vida y Desengaños del Mundo" (Madrid, 1663), tells the same story, and is the first to name hero and heroine, Lisardo and Teodora. Lozano, too, is the first to make the male protagonist a Salamanca student. Lozano's version inspired two ballads entitled "Lisardo el Estudiante de Córdova." These were reprinted by Durán, _Romancero general_, Vol. I, pp. 264-268, where they are readily accessible.

This ballad of Lisardo the Student of Cordova was undoubtedly Espronceda's main source in writing "The Student of Salamanca," and to it he refers in line 2 with the words _antiguas historias cuentan_. Yet the indebtedness was small. Espronceda took from the ballad merely the idea of making the hero of the adventure a Salamanca student, and the episode of a man witnessing his own funeral. Needless to say Espronceda's finished versification owed nothing to the halting meter of the original. Lisardo, a Salamanca student, though a native of Cordova, falls in love with Teodora, sister of a friend, Claudio. Teodora is soon to become a nun. One night he makes love to her and is only mildly rebuked. But a ghostly swordsman warns him that he will be slain if he does not desist. Nevertheless he continues his wooing in spite of the fact that Teodora has become a nun. She agrees to elope. While on his way to the convent to carry out this design, his attention is attracted by a group of men attacking an individual. This individual proves to be himself, Lisardo. Lisardo, then, witnesses his own murder and subsequent funeral obsequies. This warning is too terrible not to heed. He gives over his attempt at seduction and leads an exemplary life.

There are many other examples in the literature of Spain of the man who sees his own funeral. Essentially the same story is told by Lope de Vega, "El Vaso de Elección. San Pablo." Bévotte thinks that Mérimée in "Les Ames du purgatoire" was the first to combine the Don Juan and the Miguel de Mañara legends, so closely alike in spirit, into a single work. But Said Armesto finds this fusion already accomplished in a seventeenth-century play, "El Niño Diablo." Dumas owed much to Mérimée in writing his allegorical play "Don Juan de Maraña," first acted April 30, 1836. This became immediately popular in Spain. A mutilated Spanish version appeared, Tarragona, 1838, Imprenta de Chuliá. It is doubtful whether Espronceda owes anything to either of these French works, although both works contain gambling scenes very similar to that in which Don Félix de Montemar intervened. In the Dumas play Don Juan stakes his mistress in a game, as Don Félix did his mistress's portrait. It seems likely that Espronceda derived his whole inspiration for this scene from Moreto's "San Franco de Sena," which he quotes.

The legend of the man who sees his own funeral belongs to the realm of folk-lore. Like superstitions are to be found wherever the Celtic race has settled. In Spain they are especially prevalent in Galicia and Asturias. There the _estantigua_ or "ancient enemy" appears to those soon to die. These spirits, or _almas en pena_, appear wearing winding-sheets, bearing candles, a cross, and a bier on which a corpse is lying. Don Quijote in attacking the funeral procession probably thought he had to do with the _estantigua_. Furthermore, Said Armesto in his illuminating study "La Leyenda de Don Juan" proves that the custom of saying requiem masses for the living was very ancient in Spain. One recalls, too, how Charles V in his retirement at Yuste rehearsed his own funeral, actually entering the coffin while mass was being said.

Of all Espronceda's poems "El Estudiante de Salamanca" is the most popular. It has a unity and completeness lacking in both the "Pelayo" and "El Diablo Mundo." Every poet of the time was busy composing _leyendas_. Espronceda attempted this literary form but once, yet of all the numerous "legends" written in Spain this is the most fitted to survive. Nowhere else has the poet shown equal virtuosity in the handling of unusual meters. Nowhere among his works is there greater variety or harmony of verse. Though not the most serious, this is the most pleasing of his poems. Espronceda follows the Horatian precept of starting his story "in the middle of things." In the first part he creates the atmosphere of the uncanny, introduces the more important characters, and presents a striking situation. Part Second, the most admired, is elegiac in nature. It pleases by its simple melancholy. This part and the dramatic tableau of Part Three explain the cause of the duel with which Part One begins. Part Four resumes the thread of the narration where it was broken off in Part One, and ends with the Dance of Death which forms the climax of the whole. The character of Don Félix de Montemar is vigorously drawn. Originality cannot be claimed for it, as it is the conventional Don Juan Tenorio type. The character of Doña Elvira hardly merits the high praise of Spanish critics. She is a composite portrait of Ophelia, Marguerite, and two of Byron's characters, Doña Julia and Haidée, a shadowy, unreal creation, as ghostly in life as in death. "The Student of Salamanca" tells a story vigorously and sweetly. It does not abound in quotable passages like the "Diablo Mundo." It is neither philosophic nor introspective. It teaches no lesson. Its merit is its perfection of form.

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

The best biography of Espronceda is that of José Cascales y Muñoz, "D. José de Espronceda, su época, su vida y sus obras," Madrid, 1914. This is an expansion of the same author's "Apuntes y Materiales para la Biografía de Espronceda," _Revue hispanique_, Vol. XXIII, pp. 5-108. See also a shorter article by the same author in _La España Moderna_, Vol. CCXXXIV, pp. 27-48. Less critical, but useful, is Antonio Cortón, "Espronceda," Madrid, 1906. The very uncritical book by E. Rodríguez Solís, "Espronceda: su tiempo, su vida y sus obras," Madrid, 1883, is chiefly valuable now as the best source for Espronceda's parliamentary speeches. J. Fitzmaurice-Kelly's "Espronceda," _The Modern Language Review_, Vol. IV, pp, 20-39, is admirable as a biography and a criticism, though partially superseded by later works containing the results of new discoveries. P.H. Churchman, "Byron and Espronceda," _Revue hispanique_, Vol. XX, pp. 5-210, gives a short biography, though the study is in the main a penetrating investigation of Espronceda's sources. E. Piñeyro has written two articles on Espronceda: "Poetas Famosos del Siglo XIX," Madrid, 1883, and "El Romanticismo en España," Paris, 1904. This last was first printed in the _Bulletin hispanique_ for 1903. The older biography of D.A. Ferrer del Río, "Galería de la Literatura," Madrid, 1846, still has a certain value; but the most important source for Espronceda's youthful adventures is "El Discurso del Excmo. Señor D. Patricio de la Escosura, individuo de número de la Academia Española, leído ante esta corporación en la sesión pública inaugural de 1870," Madrid, 1870. This matter is expanded in five very important articles which appeared in "La Ilustración Española y Americana" for 1876 (February 8, February 22, June 22, July 8, September 22), partially reproduced in the book of Cascales y Muñoz. See also López Núñez, "José de Espronceda, Biografía Anecdótica," Madrid, 1917 and A. Donoso, "La Juventud de Espronceda," _Revista Chilena_, July, 1917. The best study of Espronceda's philosophy is Bonilla y San Martín's, "El Pensamiento de Espronceda," _La España Moderna_, Vol. CCXXXIV. For a recent short article see Cejador y Frauca, "Historia de la Lengua y Literatura Castellana," VII, Madrid, 1917, PP. 177-185.

The best bibliography of Espronceda's writings is that of Churchman, "An Espronceda Bibliography," _Revue hispanique_, XVII, pp. 741-777. This should be supplemented by reference to Georges Le Gentil, "Les Revues littéraires de l'Espagne pendant la première moitié du XIXe siècle," Paris, 1909. The least bad edition of Espronceda's poems is "Obras Poéticas y Escritos en Prosa," Madrid, 1884. (The second volume, which was to contain the prose writings, never appeared.) See also the "Obras Poéticas de Espronceda," Valladolid, 1900, and "Espronceda," Barcelona, 1906. Also "Páginas Olvidadas de Espronceda," Madrid, 1873. There has been a recent reprint of "Sancho Saldaña," Madrid, 1914, Repullés. Churchman has published "Blanca de Borbón," _Revue hispanique_, Vol. XVII, and also "More Inedita" in the same volume. There is said to be an English translation of "The Student of Salamanca," London, 1847. An excellent French version is that of R. Foulché-Delbosc, "L'Étudiant de Salamanque," Paris, 1893. Mary J. Serrano has made splendid translations of "The Pirate" and "To Spain: An Elegy," Warner's Library of the World's Best Literature, Vol. XIV.

For a very full treatment and bibliography of the Don Juan Tenorio legend see G.G. de Bévotte, "La Légende de Don Juan," Paris, 1911. Also Farinelli, _Giornale Storico_, XXVII, and "Homenaje a Menéndez y Pelayo," Vol. I, p. 295; A.L. Stiefel, _Jahresberichte für neuere deutsche Litteraturgeschichte_, 1898-1899, Vol. I, 7, pp. 74-79.

NOTES ON ESPRONCEDA'S VERSIFICATION

GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS

To enjoy the work of so musical an artist as Espronceda, the student must be able to read his verse in the original. This cannot be done without some knowledge of the rules which govern the writing of Spanish poetry. It therefore becomes necessary to give some account of the elementary principles of Spanish prosody. This is not the place for a complete treatment of the subject: only so much will be attempted as is necessary for the intelligent comprehension of our author's writings. A knowledge of English prosody will hinder rather than help the student; for the Spanish poet obeys very different laws from those which govern the writer of English verse.

The two essentials of Spanish poetry are (1) a fixed number of syllables in each verse (by verse we mean a single line of poetry); (2) a rhythmical arrangement of the syllables within the verse. Rime and assonance are hardly less important, but are not strictly speaking essential.

SYLLABLE-COUNTING

FINAL SYLLABLES

When a verse is stressed on the final syllable, it is called a _verso agudo_ or masculine verse.

When a verse is stressed on the next to the last syllable, it is called a _verso llano_ or feminine verse.

When a verse is stressed on the second from the last syllable, the antepenult, it is called a _verso esdrújulo_.

For the sake of convenience, the _verso llano_ is considered the normal verse. Thus, in an eight-syllable verse of this type the final stress always falls on the seventh syllable, in a six- syllable verse on the fifth syllable, etc., always one short of the last. In the case of the _verso agudo_, where the final stress falls on the final syllable, a verse having actually seven syllables would nevertheless be counted as having eight. One syllable is always added in counting the syllables of a _verso agudo_, and, contrariwise, one is always subtracted from the total number of actual syllables in a _verso esdrújulo_. These three kinds of verses are frequently used together in the same strophe (_copla_ or stanza) and held to be of equal length. Thus:

Turbios sus ojos,
Sus graves párpados
Flojos caer.

Theoretically these are all five-syllable verses. The first is a _verso llano_, the normal verse. It alone has five syllables. The second is a _verso esdrújulo_. It actually has six syllables, but theoretically is held to have five. The third is a _verso agudo_. It actually has but four syllables, but in theory is designated a five-syllable verse. All three verses agree in having the final stress fall upon the fourth syllable.

It would be simpler if, following the French custom, nothing after the final stress were counted; but Spaniards prefer to consider normal the verse of average length. It follows from this definition that a monosyllabic verse is an impossibility in Spanish. Espronceda writes:

Leve,
Breve
Són.

He is not here dropping from dissyllabic to monosyllabic verse, but the last verse too must be considered a line of two syllables.

Espronceda never uses a measure of more than twelve syllables in the selections included in this book. Serious poets never attempt anything longer than a verse of sixteen syllables.

DIPHTHONGIZATION

Spanish vowels are divided into two classes: the strong vowels, _a_, _o_, _e_, and the weak vowels, _u_, _i_. According to the Academy rules, followed by most grammarians, there can be no diphthongization of two strong vowels in the proper pronunciation of prose; only when a strong unites with a weak or two weaks unite can diphthongization take place. In verse, on the other hand, diphthongization of two strong vowels is not only allowable but common. This would probably not be the case if the same thing did not have considerable justification in colloquial practice. As a matter of fact we frequently hear _ahora_ pronounced _áora_ with diphthongization and shift of stress.

Of the three strong vowels, _a_ is "dominant" over _o_ and _e_; _o_ is dominant over _e_; and any one of the three is dominant over _u_ or _i_. A dominant vowel is one which has the power of attracting to itself the stress which, except for diphthongization, would fall on the other vowel with which it unites. The vowel losing the stress is called the "absorbed" vowel. This principle, which we find exemplified in the earliest poetic monuments of the language, must be thoroughly understood by the student of modern Spanish verse.

SYNERESIS

Syneresis is the uniting of two or three vowels, each of which is ordinarily possessed of full syllabic value, into a diphthong or a triphthong, thereby reducing the number of syllables in the word; _h_ does not interfere with syneresis. Thus, _aérea_ is normally a word of four syllables. In this verse it counts as three.

Mística y aérea dudosa visión (12)

(The numbers in parentheses indicate the syllables in the verse. Remember that the figure represents the theoretical number of syllables in the line, and indicates the actual number only in the case of the _verso llano_. Furthermore, the figure has been determined by a comparison with adjacent lines in the same stanzas, verses which offer no metrical difficulties.) So likewise in:

Y en aérea fantástica danza (10)

In the following we have double syneresis, and the word has but two syllables:

Aerea como dorada mariposa (11)

Examples of syneresis after the tonic stress:

Rechinan girando las férreas veletas (12)
Todos atropellándoos en montón (11)
Palpa en torno de sí, y el impio jura (11)

_Impio_, usually _impío_, is one of a number of words admitting of two stresses. Such are called words of double accentuation. The principle is different from that governing the stress-shift explained above. The word has its ordinary value in the following:

«Bienvenida la luz,» dijo el impío (11)

Examples of syneresis before the tonic stress:

Se siente con sus lágrimas ahogar (11)
Tu pecho de roedor remordimiento (11)
¡Ay! El que la triste realidad palpó! (12)
Toda la sangre coagulada envía (11)
¿Quién en su propia sangre los ahogó? (11)
Tanto delirio a realizar alcanza (11)
Ahogar me siento en infernal tortura (11)

Examples of syneresis under stress:

El blanco ropaje que ondeante se ve (12)
Las piedras con las piedras se golpearon (11)
Ahora adelante?» Dijo, y en seguida (11)

In the first two examples there is no stress-shift. In the third, the stress travels from the _o_ of _Ahora_ to the initial _a_. In the following example _ahora_ has three syllables:

Será más tarde que ahora (8)

The rule regarding syneresis under stress is that it is allowable, with or without resulting stress-shift, except when the combinations _éa_, _éo_, _óa_, are involved. Espronceda violates the rule in this instance:

Veame en vuestros brazos y máteme luego (12)

This is a peculiarly violent and harsh syneresis. The stress shifts from the first _e_ to the _a_, giving a pronunciation very different from that of the usual _véame_. Such a syneresis is more pardonable at the beginning of a verse than in any other position; but good modern poets strive to avoid such harshnesses. Espronceda sometimes makes _río_ monosyllabic:

Los rios su curso natural reprimen (11)

In the poetry of the Middle Ages and Renaissance such pronunciations as _teniá_ for _tenía_ are common.

DIERESIS

Dieresis is the breaking up of vowel-combinations in such a way as to form an additional syllable in the word. It is the opposite of syneresis. Dieresis never occurs in the case of the diphthongs _ie_ and _ue_ derived from Latin (e), and (o), in words like _tierra_, _bueno_, etc. _Uá_ and _uó_ are regularly dissyllabic except after _c_, _g_, and _j_. Examples:

Y en su blanca luz süave (8)
En la playa un adüar (8)
En vez de desafïaros (8)
Compañero eterno su dolor crüel (12)
Grandïosa, satánica figura (11)
El carïado, lívido esqueleto (11)
La Luna en el mar rïela (8)
Cólera, impetuoso torbellino (11)
Horas de confianza y de delicias (11)
En cárdenos matices cambiaban (11)
Rüido de pasos de gente que viene (12)

The same word without dieresis:

Por las losas deslízase sin ruido (11)

In certain words, such as _cruel_, metrical custom preserves a pronunciation in which the adjacent vowels have separate syllabic value. Traditional grammar, represented by the Academy, asserts that such is the correct pronunciation of these words to this day; but the actual speech of the best speakers diphthongizes these vowels, and their separation in poetry must rank as a dieresis. In printing poetry it is customary to print the mark of dieresis on many words in which dieresis is regular as well as on those in which it is exceptional.

SYNALEPHA

Synalepha is the combining into one syllable of two or more adjacent vowels or diphthongs of different words. It is the same phenomenon as syneresis extended beyond the single word. _H_ does not prevent synalepha. The number of synalephas possible in a single verse is theoretically limited only by the number of syllables in that verse. A simple instance:

De alguna arruinada iglesia (8)

The number of vowels entering into a synalepha is commonly two or three; rarely four, and, by a _tour de force_, even five:

Ni envidio a Eudoxia ni codicio a Eulalia (11)

Synalepha is not prevented by any mark of punctuation separating the two words nor by the caesural pause (see below). In dramatic verse a synalepha may even be divided between two speakers. In the short lines of "El Mendigo," Espronceda mingles four- with five-syllable verses. But as the five-syllable verses begin with vowels and the preceding four-syllable verses end with vowels, the former sound no longer than the rest. In very short lines synalepha may occur between one verse and another following it. See also line 1389 of "El Estudiante de Salamanca."

1. The simplest case is where both vowels entering into synalepha occur in unstressed syllables:

Informes, en que se escuchan (8)

When the two vowels coming together are identical, as here, they fuse into a single sound (_s'escuchan_), with only a slight gain in the quantity of the vowel. _Se_ here has no individual accent in the stress-group. Where the vowels in synalepha are different, each is sounded, but the stronger or more dominant is the one more distinctly heard:

Vagar, y aúllan los perros (8)

2. The second case is where the vowel or diphthong ending the first word in the synalepha bears the stress, and the initial vowel or diphthong of the second word is unstressed. Examples which do not involve stress-shift:

Del que mató en desafío (8)
Que no he seguido a una dama (8)

(_He_ is without stress in the group.)

JUGADOR PRIMERO
No tardará.

JUGADOR TERCERO
Envido.

JUGADOR PRIMERO
Quiero. (8)

In the following examples stress-shift occurs, because the unstressed vowel is dominant while the stressed vowel is absorbed. Such stress-shifts as these are sanctioned only when they do not coincide with a strong rhythmic stress (see below) in the verse. They are less offensive at the beginning than at the end:

Allí en la triste soledad se hallaron (11)
Tú el aroma en las flores exhalas (10)
Al punto aquí castigaré al medroso (11)

The following are disagreeably harsh:

Que estas torres llegué a ver (8)
¿De inciertos pesares por qué hacerla esclava (12)

3. The third case is where the second vowel or diphthong bears the stress, while the first is unstressed:

Teñida de ópalo y grana (8)

In cases like these we are dealing with a form of synalepha which, if not true elision, approaches it closely. According to Benot, the pronunciation is not quite _d'ópalo_, but "there is an attempt at elision." In other words, the second vowel or diphthong, if dominant, so predominates over the first that it is scarcely audible. Under this case, too, there may arise stress-shift:

Se hizo el bigote, requirió la espada (11)

This is a very bad verse. But such instances are rare in Espronceda and good modern poets. They are never sanctioned in connection with a strong rhythmic stress. In such a case hiatus (see below) is favored as the lesser of two evils.

4. The fourth case is where each of the two vowels bears the stress:

Así, ante nosotros pasa en ilusión (12)

What happens here is that one of the two stresses becomes subordinate to the other, the stress being wholly assumed by the more dominant of the two.

Where three or more vowels unite in a synalepha, two things must be borne in mind: (1) Stress-shift is not harsh to the Spanish ear, and is always permissible, if more than two vowels are involved. This is Espronceda's justification in the following:

Si se murió, a lo hecho, pecho (8)
Necesito ahora dinero (8)
Su pecho ahogado (5)

(2) The vowels of three words may not combine if the middle word is y, e, he, o, or u. Examples:

¡Pues no ha hecho mal disparate! (8)
Que conduce a esta mansión (8)
But: Cuando en sueño | y en silencio (8)
Si tal vez suena | o está (8)
Alma fiera | e insolente (8)

There is one case in the text where _he_ as middle word does enter into synalepha, but this is merely the fusion of three identical vowels:

Yo me he echado el alma atrás (8)

HIATUS

Hiatus is the breaking up into two syllables of vowel combinations in adjacent words capable of entering into synalepha. It is an extension to the word-group of dieresis, which applies only to a single word.

Many authorities on Spanish versification recognize as hiatus various cases which should not be so classified. In words like _yo, yerro, hierro, huevo_, etc., the first phonetic element is in each case a semi-vowel, and these semi-vowels have the value of consonants in the words cited. To classify the following as examples of hiatus is to be phonetically unsound:

Perdida tengo | yo el alma (8)
Ponzoñoso lago de punzante | hielo (12)
Me he de quejar de este | yerro (8)
Levantóse en su cóncavo | hueco (10)
Cual témpanos de | hielo endurecidos (11)
Tierno quejido que en el alma | hiere (11)

In none of these cases could there possibly be synalepha. Consequently by definition there can be no hiatus.

Hiatus most frequently occurs to avoid the greater cacophony which would arise from stress-shift under case 3 of synalepha:

Era la hora | en que acaso (8)

Lack of hiatus would here produce a stress-shift resulting in an unharmonious stressing of two successive syllables.

Reposaba, y tumba | era (8)

The same principle applies here as in the above, except that the effect would be even worse, because the stress shift would come under the rhythmic stress. (See below.)

Su mejilla; es una | ola (8) (Ditto.)
¡Pobres flores de tu | alma! (8)

Probably to give the pronominal adjective greater emphasis.

Y huyó su | alma a la mansión dichosa (11)

Probably to avoid two successive stresses, though possibly there may be dieresis in _mansión_.

Don Félix, a buena | hora (8)

Again to avoid stress-shift under the rhythmic stress.

¡El as! ¡el as! aquí está (8)
Y si Dios aquí os envia (8)

In these two examples instead of hiatus there is synalepha with stress-shift, but we have to do with case 2 of synalepha, not case 3.

Que un alma, una vida, | es (8)
Cuando | hacia él fatídica figura (11)
Y el otro ¡Dios santo! y el otro era | él! (12)
¡Villano! mas esto | es (8)
En cada | hijo a contemplar un rey (11)

In some instances hiatus seems to occur for no other reason than to preserve the verse-measure:

Resonando cual lúgubre | eco (10)
Y palacios de | oro y de cristal (11)
¡Y tú feliz, que | hallaste en la muerte (11)

In general hiatus is most likely to occur before the principal rhythmic stress in a verse; that is, before the final stress.

RHYTHM, RHYTHMIC STRESS, THE CAESURAL PAUSE

In English poetry the foot, rather than the syllable, is the unit. The number of feet to a verse is fixed, but the number of syllables varies. In Spanish poetry the number of syllables to a verse is fixed, subject only to the laws of syllable-counting given above. But if in this respect the Spanish poet has less freedom than the English versifier, he has infinitely greater liberty in the arrangement of his rhythms. The sing-song monotony of regularly recurring beats is intolerable to Latin ears. The greater flexibility of Spanish rhythm can best be shown by illustrations:

The Assy'rian came do'wn like the wo'lf on the fo'ld,
And his co'horts were gle'aming in pu'rple and go'ld;
And the she'en of their spe'ars was like sta'rs on the se'a,
When the blu'e wave rolls ni'ghtly on de'ep Galile'e.

Having chosen to write this poem in the anapestic tetrameter, Byron never varies the rhythm except to substitute an occasional iambic at the beginning of a verse:

And the're lay the ste'ed with his no'stril all wi'de.

Notice how much more freely Espronceda handles this meter in Spanish:

Su fo'rma galla'rda dibu'ja en las so'mbras
El bla'nco ropaj'e que ondea'nte se ve',
Y cua'l si pisa'ra mulli'das alfo'mbras,
Deslí'zase le've sin rui'do su pie'.

Tal vi'mos al ra'yo de la lu'na lle'na
Fugiti'va ve'la de le'jos cruza'r
Que ya' la' hinche en po'pa la bri'sa sere'na,
Que ya' la confu'nde la espu'ma del ma'r.

The first of these stanzas has the true Byronic swing. But note how freely the rhythm is handled in the second. Spanish rhythm is so flexible and free that little practical advantage is gained by counting feet. We distinguish only two sorts of verse-measure, the binary, where in general there is stress on one syllable out of two--that is there are trochees (__' __) or iambics (__ __') in the verse, or the two intermingled--and second the ternary measure, where one of a group of three syllables receives the stress. Such a verse is made up of dactyls (__' __ __), anapests (__ __ __'), or amphibrachs (__ __' __), or some combination of these. Of course, a three-syllable foot is often found in binary verse, and, _vice versa_ a two-syllable foot in ternary measure. By binary verse we mean only a form of verse in which the twofold measure predominates, and by ternary one in which the threefold measure predominates. The extract last quoted is an example of ternary verse. The following will serve as a specimen of the binary movement:

En de'rredo'r de u'na me'sa
Ha'sta se'is ho'mbres está'n,
Fi'ja la vi'sta' en los na'ipes,
Mie'ntras jue'gan a'l para'r;

Every word in Spanish has its individual word-accent: _habí'a, habla'do_. Now if we join these two words in a phrase, _habí'a habla'do_, we note that while each of the words still retains its individual word-accent, _hablado_ is more strongly stressed than _había_. In addition to its word-accent _hablado_ bears what we term a phrase-accent. In any line of verse some of the word-stresses are stronger than others, and these stronger stresses are termed rhythmic stresses. They correspond to the phrase-stresses of prose. The principal rhythmic stress is the last stress of the line. In general the rhythmic stress must coincide with a word-stress. It always does except where stress-shift comes into play. We have already seen that a stress-shift coinciding with the rhythmic stress is intolerable, and hiatus is preferred. It is very unharmonious for two stresses to fall together at the end of a verse:

Que estas torres llegué a ver (8)

This is a very bad verse, because _a_ is dominant over _é_ and brings about stress-shift, and the two consecutive syllables _a_ and _ver_ are both stressed. The result is unharmonious. A syllable bearing stress and standing immediately before the final stress is called an obstructing syllable (_una sílaba obstruccionista_). Every effort is made by a good poet to avoid such a cacophony. The above is a good example of one. I have emended llegué to _llegue_ in the text.

A short verse can easily be spoken without pause, but above ten syllables it becomes necessary for the reader to rest somewhere within the line. The resting-place is called the caesural pause. The longer the verse, the greater its importance. It does not prevent synalepha. The stress immediately before the caesura must be the second most important rhythmic stress of the verse.

RIME AND ASSONANCE

The regularity of the beats in English verse is of itself sufficient to indicate when a line of poetry is ended, even though there be no rime to mark that end. Hence blank verse has been highly developed by English poets, and many, like Milton, have held it to be the noblest form of verse. Blank verse is impossible in French, because French with its lack of verbal stress has no other device than rime to mark the end of a verse. Without rime French blank verse would be indistinguishable from rhythmic prose. In Spanish the stress is not so heavy as in the Germanic languages, but, on the other hand, is much stronger than in French. Spanish blank verse is not unknown, but has never been cultivated with great success. It is evident that in this language too, lacking as it does regular rhythm in its versification, rime is much more necessary than in English. However, an occasional _verso suelto_, or blank verse, intermingled with rimed ones, is very common.

Two words rime with one another when there is identity of sound between the last stressed vowels and between any letters which may follow these vowels. Rime is masculine (in Spanish _rima aguda_) when the last syllables bear the stress: _mal_--_cristal_; or feminine when an unstressed vowel follows the stressed one (in Spanish _rima llana_): _hermosura_--_locura_. Inasmuch as _b_ and _v_ represent the same sound, they rime. The weak vowel of a diphthong is ignored for riming purposes; thus _vuelo_ rimes with _cielo_. Good poets avoid obvious or easy rimes such as those yielded by flexional endings and suffixes. It is permissible to rime two identically-spelled words if they are in fact different words in meaning: _ven_ (they see) rimes with _vén_ (come).

Assonance is the identity of sound of two or more stressed vowels and the final following vowels, if there are any. In case consonants stand after the stressed vowel they are disregarded.

Assonance is of two sorts: single assonance (_asonante agudo_), _están_--_va_--_parar_--_jamás_, etc.; and double assonance (_asonante llano_), _cuentan_--_tierra_--_dejan _or _coronada_--_gasa_--_baña_. In assonanced verse the assonanced words end the even lines. The odd are usually blank, though sometimes rimed. A _voz aguda_ cannot assonate with a _voz llana_, but there is no objection to the introduction of _voces esdrújulas_ into _asonante llano_. In this case only the stressed and the final vowels of the _esdrújula_ are counted; for example, _América_ assonances with _crea_. When diphthongs enter into assonance, the weak vowel is ignored: _pleita_ assonances with _pliega_.

Assonance is not unknown in English, especially in popular or folk verse; but we generally regard it as a faulty rime. Thus in the British national anthem we read:

Send him victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us,
God save the king!

"Over us" plainly assonates, rather than rimes, with "glorious," but this is dangerously close to doggerel. Assonance is unsuited to the genius of any language possessed of a rich vowel-system. This is evident to any one who has read Archbishop Trench's attempt to render Calderon's verse into English assonance.

STROPHES

I shall not attempt to list the innumerable verse-forms to be found in Spanish poetry, but shall only indicate the forms used by Espronceda in the selections contained in this volume. Some of these are fixed and conventional, and others are of his own contrivance. Spanish uses the terms _estrofa_ and _copla_ to designate an arrangement of verses in a stanza. _Copla_ must not be confused with English "couplet." These are general terms; most verse-forms are designated by special names. The following verse-forms are found in the selections contained in this book:

"EL ESTUDIANTE DE SALAMANCA"

Lines 1-40. Ballad meter or _verso de romance_ (8 syllables) with assonance in _é_-_a_.

Lines 41-48. _Verso de romance_ with assonance in _ó_.

Lines 49-63. Irregular 3-syllable meter with assonance in _ó_ occurring irregularly; lines 53 and 55 rime, and 59 and 61 assonate in _é-a_.

Lines 64-75. _Verso de romance_ with assonance in _ó_.

Lines 76-99. Quatrains or _cuartetas_ of 12-syllable verse; rime-scheme _abab_ (this arrangement of the rime is called _rima cruzada_); alternation of masculine and feminine rime.

Lines 100-139. _Octavillas italianas_ (8-syllable verse); lines 2 and 3, 6 and 7, 4 and 8 rime; lines 1 and 5 either assonate or are blank (_sueltos_).

Lines 140-179. _Octavas reales_ (11-syllable verse); rime-scheme _abababcc_; the rimes must be feminine.

Lines 180-257. _Verso de romance_, printed in the form of _cuartetas_; assonance in _á-a_.

Lines 258-302. _Quintillas_ (8-syllable verse); the rime-scheme varies; the rule is that there shall be two rimes to a _quintilla_, and the same rime must not occur in three consecutive verses.

Lines 303-330. _Cuartetas_ (11-syllable verse); rime-scheme _abab_; occasionally assonance replaces rime in the even verses.

Lines 331-338. _Octava real_.

Lines 339-370. _Cuartetas_ (11-syllable verse).

Lines 371-418. _Octavas reales_.

Lines 419-434. _Cuartetas_ (11-syllable verse).

Lines 435-454. _Verso de romance_, printed as _cuartetas_; assonance in _á_.

Lines 455-558. _Redondillas_ (8-syllable verse); rime-scheme _abba_; this arrangement of rimes is called _versos pareados en el centro_.

Lines 559-578. _Cuartetas_ (11-syllable verse); _rima cruzada_.

Lines 579-590. _Redondillas_.

Lines 591-600. _Décima_ (8-syllable verse); rime-scheme _abbaaccddc_.

Lines 601-692. _Redondillas_.

Lines 693-792. _Cuartetas_ (12-syllable verse); odd verses rime; the even either form a masculine rime or are in assonance.

Lines 793-820. _Cuartetas_ (8-syllable verse); the rime-scheme varies: some _coplas_ are _redondillas_; others have the crossed rime.

Lines 821-884. _Cuartetas_ of 12-syllable verse resumed; same rime-scheme as above.

Lines 885-894. _Quintillas_ (8-syllable verse); rime-scheme _abaab_.

Lines 895-910. _Cuartetas_ (11-syllable verse); rime-scheme either _abba_ or _abab_.

Lines 911-938. _Cuartetas_ of 12-syllable verse; rime-scheme _abab_; even verses form either a masculine rime or assonance.

Lines 939-942. _Cuarteta_ (11-syllable verse); even verses in assonance; the odd verses rime.

Lines 943-961. Irregular meter (6-syllable verse); a mixture of rime, assonance, and blank verse.

Lines 962-1033. _Verso de romance_; assonance in _á_.

Lines 1034-1063. _Quintillas_.

Lines 1064-1115. _Cuartetas_ (12-syllable verse); rime in the odd verses; assonance or masculine rime in the even.

Lines 1116-1145. _Quintillas_.

Lines 1146-1149. _Cuarteta_ (11-syllable verse); rime-scheme _abab_.

Lines 1150-1164. _Quintillas_.

Lines 1165-1196. _Cuartetas_ (11-syllable verse); rime-scheme _abab_; feminine rime.

Lines 1197-1364. _Octavas reales_.

Lines 1365-1384. _Quintillas_.

Lines 1385-1390. Irregular blending of 2-and 3-syllable meter; assonance and rime; the _crescendo_ effect begins here.

Lines 1391-1399. Irregular 4-syllable meter; assonance and rime.

Lines 1400-1412. Irregular 5-syllable meter; assonance, rime, and blank verse.

Lines 1413-1439. Irregular 6-syllable meter; assonance, rime, blank verse.

Lines 1440-1447. Irregular 7-syllable meter; assonance, rime, blank verse.

Lines 1448-1469. _Verso de romance_; assonance in _é-o_.

Lines 1470-1485. Irregular 9-syllable meter; assonance in _ó_.

Lines 1486-1501. _Cuartetas_ (10-syllable verse); rime-scheme _abab_; even verses assonate or form a masculine rime.

Lines 1502-1521. _Cuartetas_ (11-syllable verse); rime-scheme _abab_; even verses assonate or form a masculine rime.

Lines 1522-1553. _Cuartetas_ (12-syllable verse); rime-scheme _abab_; even verses assonate or form a masculine rime; the _crescendo_ is now at its height.

Lines 1554-1569. _Octavillas italianas_ (11-syllable verse); see above for description of this verse form.

Lines 1570-1585. _Octavillas italianas_ (10-syllable verse).

Lines 1586-1601. _Octavillas italianas_ (9-syllable verse).

Lines 1602-1617. _Octavillas italianas_ (8-syllable verse).

Lines 1618-1633. _Octavillas italianas_ (7-syllable verse).

Lines 1634-1649. _Octavillas italianas_ (6-syllable verse).