Chapter XXII: Book VI (2)

Rightly thou canst, renownèd Betis, now
With Mincio, Arno, and with Tiber vie,
Uplift in happiness thy hallowed brow,
And spread thee in new bosoms spaciously:
Since Heaven wished, that doth thy bliss allow,
Such fame to give thee, honour, dignity,
As he doth bring unto thy banks so fair,
BALTASAR DEL ALCÁZAR,[160] who dwells there.

Another ye will see, summed up in whom
Apollo's rarest learning will ye see,
Which doth the semblance of itself assume,
When spread through countless others it may be;
In him 'tis greater, in him it doth come
To such a height of excellence that he,
The Licentiate MOSQUERA[161] well can claim
To rival e'en Apollo's self in fame.

Behold! yon prudent man who doth adorn
And deck with sciences his limpid breast,
Shrinks not from gazing on the fountain born
In wisdom's waters from our mountain's crest;
In the clear peerless stream he doth not scorn
To quench his thirst, and thus thou flourishest,
DOMINGO DE BECERRA,[162] here on earth,
For all recount the mighty doctor's worth.

Words I might speak of famous ESPINEL[163]
That pass beyond the wit of human kind,
Concerning all the sciences that dwell,
Nurtured by Phoebus' breath, within his mind;
But since my tongue the least part cannot tell
Of the great things that in my soul I find,
I say no more save that he doth aspire
To Heaven, whether he take his pen or lyre.

If ruddy Phoebus ye would fain espy
With blood-red Mars in equal balance weighed,
On great CARRANZA[164] seek to cast an eye,
In whom each hath his constant dwelling made;
With such discretion, art, dexterity,
Hath he his power o'er pen and lance displayed
That the dexterity once cleft apart
He hath brought back to science and to art.

Of LÁZARO LUIS IRANZO,[165] lyre
Than mine must needs be tuned with better art,
To sing the good that Heaven doth inspire,
The worth that Heaven fosters in his heart:
By Mars' and Phoebus' path he doth inspire
To climb unto the lofty heights apart
Where human thought scarce reacheth, yet, despite
Fortune and fate, he will reach them aright.

BALTASAR DE ESCOBAR,[166] who doth adorn
The famèd shores of Tiber's stream to-day,
Whom the broad banks of hallowed Betis mourn,
Their beauty lost when he is far away,
A fertile wit, if he perchance return
To his beloved native land, I pay
Unto his youthful and his honoured brow
The laurel and the honour that I owe.

JUAN SANZ, called DE ZUMETA,[167] with what power,
What honour, palm, or laurel shall be crowned,
If from the Indian to the ruddy Moor
No muse as his so perfect can be found?
Here I anew his fame to him restore
By telling you, my shepherds, how profound
Will be Apollo's joy at any praise
Which ye may bring to swell ZUMETA'S praise.

Unto JUAN DE LAS CUEVAS[168] fitting place
Give, shepherds, whensoever in this spot
He shall present himself. His muse's grace
And his rare wit this prize for him have wrought;
His works I know, though Time may flee apace,
In Time's despite, shall never be forgot,
From dread oblivion they shall free his name,
Which shall abide with bright and lofty fame.

If him ye ever see, with honour greet
The famous man, of whom I now shall tell,
And celebrate his praise in verses sweet,
As one who doth therein so much excel;
BIBALDO he--to make my tale complete,
ADAM BIBALDO[169]--who doth gild and swell
The glory of this happy age of ours
With the choice bloom of intellectual powers.

E'en as is wont to be with varied flowers
Adorned and wealthy made the flowery May,
With many varied sciences and powers
DON JUAN AGUAYO'S[170] intellect is gay;
Though I in praising him might pass the hours,
I say but this, that I now but essay,
And at another time I shall unfold
Things that your hearts with wonderment will hold.

DON JUAN GUTIÉRREZ RUFO'S[171] famous name
I wish in deathless memory to live,
That wise and foolish may alike acclaim
In wonderment his noble narrative;
Let hallowed Betis give to him the fame
His style doth merit, let them glory give
To him, who know, may Heaven with renown
Equal unto his towering flight him crown.

In DON LUIS DE GÓNGORA[172] I show
A rare and lively wit that hath no peer,
His works delight me, their wealth I bestow
Not on myself alone, but everywhere;
And if I merit aught, because ye know
My love for you, see that your praises bear
To endless life his lofty love profound
Despite the flight of time and death's cruel wound.

Let the green laurel, let the ivy green,
Nay, let the sturdy holm-oak crown the brow
Of GONZALO CERVANTES,[173] for I ween
Worthy of being crowned therewith art thou;
More than Apollo's learning in thee seen,
In thee doth Mars the burning ardour show
Of his mad rage, yet with so just a measure
That through thee he inspireth dread and pleasure.

Thou, who with thy sweet plectrum didst extol
Celidon's name and glory everywhere,
Whose wondrous and well-polished verses call
Thee unto laurels and to triumphs fair.

GONZALO GRACIÁN,[174] take the coronal,
Sceptre and throne from her who holds thee dear.
In token that the bard of Celidon
Deserveth to be Lord of Helicon.

Thou, Darro, far renownèd stream of gold,
How well thou canst thyself exalt on high,
And with new current and new strength, behold,
Thou canst e'en with remote Hydaspes vie!
MATEO DE BERRÍO[175] maketh bold
To honour thee with every faculty
So that through him e'en now the voice of fame
Doth spread abroad through all the world thy name.

Of laurel green a coronal entwine,
That ye therewith the worthy brows may crown
Of SOTO BARAHONA,[176] shepherds mine,
A man of wisdom, eloquence, renown;
Although the holy flood, the fount divine
Of Helicon, should BARAHONA drown,
Mysterious chance! he yet would come to sight
As if he were upon Parnassus' height.

Within the realms antarctic I might say
That sovereign minds eternal fame attain,
For if these realms abound in wealth to-day,
Minds more than human also they contain;
In many now I can this truth display,
But I can give you plenteous store in twain,
One from New Spain, he an Apollo new,
The other, a sun unrivalled from Peru.

FRANCISCO DE TERRAZAS[177] is the name
Of one, renowned in Spain and in the West,
New Hippocrene his noble heart aflame
Hath given to his happy native nest;
Unto the other cometh equal fame,
Since by his heavenly genius he hath blest
Far Arequipa with eternal spring--
DIEGO MARTÍNEZ DE RIBERA[178] I sing.

Beneath a happy star a radiance bright
Here did flash forth, so rich in signal worth
That his renown its tiniest spark of light
From East to West hath spread o'er all the earth;
And when this light was born, all valorous might
Was born therewith, PICADO[179] had his birth,
Even my brother, Pallas' brother too,
Whose living semblance we in him did view.

If I must give the glory due to thee,
Great ALONSO DE ESTRADA,[180] thou to-day
Deservest that I should not hurriedly
Thy wisdom and thy wondrous mind display;
Thou dost enrich the land that ceaselessly
To Betis doth a bounteous tribute pay,
Unequal the exchange, for no reward
Can payment for so fair a debt afford.

DON JUAN, Heaven gave thee as the rare delight
Of this fair country with no grudging hand,
ÁVALOS' glory, and RIBERA'S[181] light,
Honour of Spain, of every foreign land,
Blest Spain, wherein with many a radiance bright
Thy works shall teach the world to understand
All that Nature can give us, rich and free,
Of genius bright and rare nobility.

He who is happy in his native land,
In Limar's limpid waters revelling,
The cooling winds and the renownèd strand
With his divinest verses gladdening,--
Let him come, straightway ye will understand
From his spirit and discretion why I sing,
For SANCHO DE RIBERA[182] everywhere
Is Phoebus' self and Mars without a peer.

A Homer new this vale of high renown
Did once upon a time from Betis wrest,
On whom of wit and gallantry the crown
We can bestow--his greatness is confessed;
The Graces moulded him to be their own,
Heaven sendeth him in every grace the best,
Your Tagus' banks already know his fame,
PEDRO DE MONTESDOCA[183] is his name.

Wonder the illustrious DIEGO DE AGUILAR[184]
In everything the wish can ask inspires,
A royal eagle he, who flieth far
Unto a height whereto no man aspires;
His pen 'mongst thousands wins the spoil of war,
For before it the loftiest retires,
Guanuco will his style, his valour tell
Of such renown; Guanuco knows it well.

A GONZALO FERNÁNDEZ[185] draweth near,
A mighty captain in Apollo's host.
In whose heroic name that hath no peer,
SOTOMAYOR to-day doth make his boast;
His verse is wondrous and his wisdom clear
Where'er he is beheld from coast to coast,
And if his pen doth so much joy afford,
He is no less renownèd by his sword.

HENRIQUE GARCÉS[186] the Peruvian land
Enricheth. There with sweet melodious rhyme,
With cunning, skilful, and with ready hand,
In him the hardest task did highest climb;
New speech, new praise he to the Tuscan grand
Hath given in the sweet Spanish of our time;
Who shall the greatest praises from him take,
E'en though Petrarch himself again awake?

FERNÁNDEZ DE PINEDA'S[187] talent rare
And excellent, and his immortal vein
Make him to be in no small part the heir
Of Hippocrene's waters without stain;
Since whatsoe'er he would therefrom, is ne'er
Denied him, since such glory he doth gain
In the far West, let him here claim the part
He now deserveth for his mind and art.

And thou that hast thy native Betis made,
With envy filled, to murmur righteously,
That thy sweet tuneful song hath been displayed
Unto another earth, another sky,
Noble JUAN DE MESTANZA,[188] undismayed
Rejoice, for whilst the fourth Heaven shall supply
Its light, thy name, resplendent in its worth,
Shall be without a peer o'er all the earth.

All that can e'er in a sweet vein be found
Of charm, ye will in one man only find,
Who bridleth to his muse's gladsome sound
The ocean's madness and the hurrying wind;
For BALTASAR DE ORENA[189] is renowned,
From pole to pole his fame, swift as the wind,
Doth run, and from the East unto the West,
True honour he of our Parnassus' crest.

A fruitful and a precious plant I know
That hath been to the highest mountain found
In Thessaly transplanted thence, and, lo!
A plant ere this with happy fruitage crowned;
Shall I be still nor tell what fame doth show
Of PEDRO DE ALVARADO[190] the renowned?
Renowned, yet no less brightly doth he shine,
For rare on earth is such a mind divine.

Thou, who with thy new muse of wondrous grace
Art of the moods of love, CAIRASCO,[191] singing,
And of that common varying fickleness,
Where cowards 'gainst the brave themselves are flinging;
If from the Grand Canary to this place
Thou art thy quick and noble ardour bringing,
A thousand laurels, for thou hast deserved,
My shepherds offer, praises well-deserved.

What man, time-honoured Tormes, would deny
That thou canst e'en the Nile itself excel,
If VEGA in thy praises can outvie
E'en Tityrus who did of Mincio tell?
DAMIÁN,[192] I know thy genius riseth high
To where this honour doth thine honours swell,
For my experience of many years
Thy knowledge and thy virtue choice declares.

Although thy genius and thy winning grace,
FRANCISCO SÁNCHEZ,[193] were to give me leave,
If I dared form the wish to hymn thy praise,
Censure should I for lack of skill receive;
None but a master-tongue, whose dwelling place
Is in the heavens, can be the tongue to achieve
The lengthy course and of thy praises speak,
For human tongue is for this task too weak.

The things that an exalted spirit show,
The things that are so rare, so new in style,
Which fame, esteem, and knowledge bring to view
By hundred thousand proofs of wit and toil,
Cause me to give the praises that are due
To DON FRANCISCO DE LAS CUEVAS,[194] while
Fame that proclaims the tidings everywhere,
Seeks not to linger in her swift career.

At such a time as this I would have crowned
My sweet song gladly, shepherds, with the praise
Of one whose genius doth the world astound,
And could your senses ravish and amaze;
In him the union and the sum is found
Of all I have praised and have yet to praise;
FRAY LUIS DE LEÓN[195] it is I sing,
Whom I love and adore, to whom I cling.

What means, what ways of praise shall I achieve,
What pathways that yon great MATÍAS' name
May in the world for countless ages live,
Who hath ZUÑIGA[196] for his other name?
Unto him all my praises let me give,
Though he is man and I immortal am,
Because his genius truly is divine,
Worthily praise and honour in him shine.

Turn ye the thought that passeth speedily
Unto Pisuerga's lovely banks divine,
Ye will see how the lofty minds whereby
They are adorned, enrich this tale of mine;
And not the banks alone, but e'en the sky,
Wherein the stars resplendent ever shine,
Itself assuredly can honour claim,
When it receives the men whom now I name.

Thou, DAMASIO DE FRÍAS,[197] canst alone
Thy praises utter, for, although our chief,
Even Apollo's self should praise thee, none
But could be in thy praises all too brief;
Thou art the pole-star that hath ever shone
Certain and sure, that sendeth sweet relief
From storm, and favouring gales, and safe to shore
Brings him who saileth wisdom's ocean o'er.

ANDRÉS SANZ DEL PORTILLO,[198] send to me
That breath, I pray, whereby Phoebus doth move
Thy learned pen, and lofty fantasy,
That I may praise thee as it doth behove;
For my rough tongue will never able be,
Whate'er the ways it here may try and prove,
To find a way of praising as I would
All that I feel and see in thee of good.

Happiest of minds, thou towerest in thy flight
Above Apollo's highest, with thy ray
So bright, thou givest to our darkness light,
Thou guidest us, however far we stray;
And though thou dost now blind me with thy light
And hast my mind o'erwhelmèd with dismay,
Glory beyond the rest I give to thee,
For, SORIA,[199] glory thou hast given to me.

If, famous CANTORAL,[200] so rich a meed
Of praise thy works achieve in every part,
Thou of my praises wilt have little need,
Unless I praise thee with new mode and art;
With words significant of noble deed,
With all the skill that Heaven doth impart,
I marvel, praise in silence, thus I reach
A height I cannot hope to gain by speech.

If I to sing thy praise have long delayed,
Thou, VACA Y DE QUIÑONES,[201] mayst forgive
The past forgetfulness I have displayed
And the repentance I now show receive,
For with loud cries and proclamation made
O'er the broad world this task I shall achieve
In open and in secret, that thy fame
Shall spread abroad, and brightly gleam thy name.

Thy rich and verdant strand no juniper
Enricheth, nor sad cypress; but a crown
Of laurels and of myrtles it doth wear,
Bright Ebro, rich in waters and renown,
As best I can, I now thy praise declare,
Praising that bliss which Heaven hath sent down
Unto thy banks, for geniuses more bright
Dwell on thy banks e'en than the stars of night.

Two brothers witnesses will be thereto,
Two daysprings they, twin suns of poesy,
On whom all that it could of art bestow
And genius, Heaven lavished bounteously;
Thoughts of wise age, though still in youthful glow,
Converse mature, and lovely fantasy,
Fashion a worthy, deathless aureola
For LUPERCIO LEONARDO DE ARGENSOLA.[202]

With envy blest, in holy rivalry
Methinks the younger brother doth aspire
To match the elder, since he riseth high
To where no human eye e'er riseth higher;
Wherefore he writes and sings melodiously
Histories countless with so sweet a lyre
That young BARTOLOMÉ[203] hath well deserved
Whatever for LUPERCIO is reserved.

If good beginning and a sequence fair
Inspire the hope of an illustrious close
In everything, my mind may now declare
That thus thou shalt exalt o'er all its foes,
COSME PARIENTE.[204] Thus thou canst with rare
Confidence to thy wise and noble brows
Promise the crown that rightly hath been gained
By thy bright intellect and life unstained.

MURILLO,[205] thou dost dwell in solitude,
Heaven thy companion, and dost there display
That other muses, cleverer and more good,
Ne'er leave thy Christian side and go away;
Thou from my sisters didst receive thy food,
And now thou dost, this kindness to repay,
Guide us and teach us heavenly things to sing,
Pleasing to Heaven, and this world profiting.

Turia, who loudly didst of old proclaim
The excellence of the children born to thee,
If thou shouldst hearken to the words I frame,
Moved by no envy, by no rivalry.

Thou wilt hear how by those whom I shall name,
Thy fame is bettered; their presence with thee,
Their valour, virtue, genius, are thy dower,
And make thee o'er Indus and Ganges tower.

DON JUAN COLOMA,[206] thou within whose breast
Hath been enclosed so much of Heaven's grace,
Who hast with bridle stern envy repressed,
And given to fame a thousand tongues to blaze,
From Tagus to the kingdom fruitfulest,
Abroad thy name and worth in words of praise,
COUNT DE ELDA, blest in all, thou dost bestow
On Turia greater fame than that of Po.

He in whose breast a spring that is divine
Through him, doth ever copiously abound,
To whom his choir of flashing lights incline,
And rightly--they their Lord in him have found--
Who should by all, from Ethiop 'neath the Line
To Eskimo, with name unique be crowned,
DON LUIS GARCERÁN[207] is peerless, bright,
Grand Master of Montesa, world's delight.

Within this famous vale he should receive
A place illustrious, an abode renowned,
He to whom fame the name would gladly give
Wherewith his intellect is fitly crowned;
Be it the care of Heaven to achieve
His praise--from Heaven comes his worth profound--
And laud what is beyond my faculties
In DON ALONSO REBOLLEDO[208] wise.

DOCTOR FALCÓN,[209] so lofty is thy flight
That thou beyond the lordly eagle high
Dost rise; thy genius unto Heaven's height
Ascends, leaving this vale of misery;
Wherefore I fear, wherefore I dread aright
That, though I praise thee, thou wilt yet espy
Cause of complaint in that for nights and days
My voice and tongue I use not in thy praise.

If e'en as fortune doth, sweet poesy
Had but an ever-changing wheel possessed,
Swifter in speed than Dian through the sky,
Which was not, is not, ne'er shall be at rest,
Thereon let MICER ARTIEDA[210] lie--
The wheel unchanged the while amid the test--
And he would ever keep the topmost place
For knowledge, intellect, and virtue's grace.

The goodly shower of praises thou didst pour
Upon the rarest intellects and best.

Alone thou meritest and dost secure,
Alone thou dost secure and meritest;
GIL POLO,[211] let thy hopes be firm and sure,
That in this vale thy ashes will find rest
In a new tomb by these my shepherds reared,
Wherein they will be guarded and revered.

CRISÓOBAL DE VIRUES,[212] since thou dost vaunt
A knowledge and a worth like to thy years,
Thyself the genius and the virtue chant
Wherewith thou fleest the world's beguiling fears;
A fruitful land and a well-nurtured plant--
In Spain and foreign lands I shall rehearse
And for the fruit of thy exalted mind
Win fame and honour and affection kind.

If like unto the mind he doth display
SILVESTRE DE ESPINOSA'S[213] praise must be,
A voice more skilled were needed and more gay
A longer time and greater faculty;
But since my voice he guideth on the way,
This guerdon true shall I bestow, that he
May have the blessing Delos' god doth bring
To the choice flood of Hippocrene's spring.

The world adorning as he comes in view
Amongst them an Apollo I behold,
GARCIA ROMERO,[214] discreet, gallant too,
Worthiest of being in this list enrolled;
If dark Peneus' child, whose story true
Hath been in Ovid's chronicles retold,
Had found him in the plains of Thessaly,
Not laurel, but ROMERO[215] would she be.

It breaks the silence and the hallowed bound,
Pierces the air, and riseth to the sky,
The heavenly, hallowed, and heroic sound
That speaks in FRAY PEDRO DE HUETE'S[216] cry;
Of his exalted intellect profound
Fame sang, sings and shall sing unceasingly,
Taking his works as witness of her song
To spread amazement all the world among.

Needs must I now to the last end draw near,
And of the greatest deed I e'er designed
Make a beginning now, which shall, I fear,
Move unto bitter wrath Apollo kind;
Since, although style be wanting, I prepare
To praise with rustic and untutored mind
Two suns that Spain, the country of their birth,
Illumine, and moreover all the earth.

Apollo's hallowed, honourable lore,
Discretion of a courtier mature,
And years well-spent, experience, which a store
Of countless prudent counsels doth assure,
Acuteness of intellect, a ready power
To mark and to resolve whate'er obscure
Difficulty and doubt before them comes,--
Each of these in these twin suns only blooms.

Now, shepherds, I in these two poets find
An epilogue to this my lengthy lay;
Though I for them the praises have designed
Which ye have heard, I do not them repay;
For unto them is debtor every mind,
From them I win contentment every day,
Contentment from them winneth all the earth
E'en wonder, for 'tis Heaven gives them birth.

In them I wish to end my melody,
Yet I begin an admiration new,
And if ye think I go too far, when I
Say who they are, behold, I vanquish you;
By them I am exalted to the sky,
And without them shame ever is my due;
'Tis LÁINEZ,[217] FIGUEROA[218] 'tis I name
Worthy eternal and unceasing fame.

Scarce had the fair nymph ended the last accents of her delightful song, when the flames which were divided, uniting once more, enclosed her in the midst, and straightway, as they were gradually consumed, the glowing fire in a little while vanished, and the discreet muse from before the eyes of all, at a time when already the bright dawn was beginning to reveal her cool and rosy cheeks over the spacious sky, giving glad tokens of the coming day. And straightway the venerable Telesio, setting himself on Meliso's tomb, and surrounded by all the pleasing company who were there, all lending him a pleasing attention and strange silence, began to speak to them in this wise:

'What you have seen this past night in this very spot and with your eyes, discreet and gallant shepherds, and fair shepherdesses, will have given you to understand how acceptable to Heaven is the laudable custom we have of performing these yearly sacrifices and honourable funeral rites, for the happy souls of the bodies which by your decree deserved to have burial in this famous valley. I say this to you, my friends, in order that henceforth with more fervour and diligence you may assist in carrying out so holy and famous a work, since you now see how rare and lofty are the spirits of which the beauteous Calliope has told us, for all are worthy not only of your, but of all possible praises. And think not that the pleasure is small I have felt in learning from so true a narration how great is the number of the men of divine genius who live in our Spain to-day; for it always has been and is held by all foreign nations that the spirits are not many, but few, that in the science of poetry show that they are of lofty spirit, the real fact being as different as we see, since each of those the nymph has named excels the most subtle foreigner, and they would give clear tokens of it, if poetry were valued as highly in this Spain of ours as it is in other regions. And so for this reason the renowned and clear intellects that excel in it, because of the little esteem in which the princes and the common people hold them, by their minds alone communicate their lofty and strange conceptions, without daring to publish them to the world, and I hold for my part that Heaven must have ordained it in this way because the world does not deserve, nor does our heedless age, to enjoy food so pleasant to the soul. But, since it seems to me, shepherds, that the little sleep of the past night and our long ceremonies will have made you somewhat wearied and desirous of repose, it will be well, after doing the little that remains to us to fulfil our purpose, for each to return to his hut or to the village, carrying in his memory what the muse has enjoined on us.'

And, saying this, he descended from the tomb, and crowning himself once more with new funereal branches, he went again round the pyre three times, all following him and accompanying him in some devout prayers he was uttering. This being done, all having him in their midst, he turned his grave face to each side, and, bowing his head, and showing a grateful countenance and eyes full of love, he took leave of all the company, who, going some by one and some by another side of the four outlets that place had, in a little while all dispersed and divided, only those of Aurelio's village remaining, and with them Timbrio, Silerio, Nisida, and Blanca, with the famous shepherds, Elicio, Thyrsis, Damon, Lauso, Erastro, Daranio, Arsindo, and the four hapless ones, Orompo, Marsilio, Crisio, and Orfenio, with the shepherdesses Galatea, Florisa, Silveria and her friend Belisa, for whom Marsilio was dying. All these then being together, the venerable Aurelio told them that it would be well to depart at once from that place in order to reach the stream of palms in time to spend the noon-tide heat there, since it was so suitable a spot for it. What Aurelio was saying seemed good to all, and straightway they went with peaceful steps towards where he said. But as the fair appearance of the shepherdess Belisa would not permit Marsilio's spirits to rest, he would fain, if he had been able, and it had been allowed him, have approached her and told her of the injustice she used towards him; but, not to break through the respect which was due to Belisa's modesty, the mournful swain was more silent than his desire required. Love produced the same effects and symptoms in the souls of the lovers Elicio and Erastro, who each for himself would fain have told Galatea what she well knew already. At this moment Aurelio said:

'It does not seem to me well, shepherds, that you should show yourselves so greedy as not to be willing to respond to and repay what you owe to the larks and nightingales and to the other painted little birds that amongst these trees are delighting and gladdening you by their untaught wondrous harmony. Play your instruments and uplift your sounding voices, and show them that your art and skill in music excel their native music, and with such a pastime we shall feel less the tedium of the journey and the rays of the sun which already seem to be threatening the violence with which they must needs strike the earth during this noon-tide heat.'

But little was necessary for Aurelio to be obeyed, for straightway Erastro played his pipe and Arsindo his rebeck, to the sound of which instruments, all giving the lead to Elicio, he began to sing in this wise:

ELICIO.

For the impossible I fight,
And, should I wish to retreat,
Step nor pathway is in sight,
For, till victory or defeat,
Desire draweth me with might;
Though I know that I must die,
Ere the victory I achieve,
When I most in peril lie,
Then it is that I receive
_More faith in adversity_.

Never may I hope to gain
Fortune; this is Heaven's decree.
Heaven the works of hope hath ta'en
And doth lavish aye on me
Countless certainties of pain;
But my breast of constancy,
Which amidst Love's living flame
Glows and melteth ceaselessly,
In exchange this boon doth claim:
_More faith in adversity_.

Certain doubt and fickleness
Traitorous faith and surest fear,
Love's unbridled wilfulness,
Trouble ne'er the loving care
Which is crowned with steadfastness,
Time on hasty wing may fly,
Absence come, or disdain cold,
Evil grow, tranquillity
Fail, yet I as bliss will hold
_More faith in adversity_.

Certain folly is it not,
And a madness sure and great,
That I set my heart on what
Fortune doth deny, and Fate,
Nor is promised by my lot?
Dread of everything have I,
There is naught can give me pleasure,
Yet amidst such agony
Love bestows its chiefest treasure:
_More faith in adversity_.

Victory o'er my grief I gain,
Which to such a pass is brought
That it doth Love's height attain,
And I find that from this thought
Comes some solace to my pain;
Although poor and lowly I,
Yet relief so rich in woe
To the fancy I apply,
That the heart may ever know
_More faith in adversity_.

All the more that every ill
Comes with every ill to-day,
And that they my life may fill
With more pain, though deadly they,
They do keep me living still;
But our life in dignity
With a noble end is crowned,
And in mine my fame shall lie,
For in life, in death I found
_More faith in adversity_.

It seemed to Marsilio that what Elicio had been singing accorded with his mood so well that he wished to follow him in the same idea, and so, without waiting for anyone else to take the lead in it, to the sound of the same instruments, he began to sing thus:

MARSILIO.
Ah! 'tis easy for the wind
All the hopes to bear away
That could ever be designed
And could their foundations lay
On vain fancies of the mind;
For all hopes of loving gain,
All the ways Time doth uncover,
Wholly are destroyed and slain;
But the while in the true lover
_Faith, faith only, doth remain_.

It achieves such potency
That, despite disdain which never
Offereth security,
Bliss it promiseth me ever,
Bliss that keeps the hope in me;
And, though Love doth quickly wane
In the angry breast and white
That increaseth so my pain,
Yet in mine, in its despite,
_Faith, faith only, doth remain_.

Love, 'tis true thou dost receive
Tribute for my loyalty,
And so much dost thou achieve
That my faith did never die,
It doth with my works revive;
My content--'tis to thee plain--
And my glory all decays,
As thy fury grows amain;
In my soul as dwelling-place
_Faith, faith only, doth remain_.

But if it be truth declared
And beyond all doubt have passed,
That to faith glory is barred,
I, who shall to faith hold fast,
What hope I for my reward?
Sense doth vanish with the pain
That is pictured, all the bliss
Flies and is not seen again,
And amidst such miseries
_Faith, faith only, doth remain_.

With a profound sigh the hapless Marsilio ended his song, and straightway Erastro, handing over his pipe, without further delaying began to sing thus:

ERASTRO.

In my woe and suffering
'Midst the pleasures of my care,
My faith is so choice a thing,
That it flieth not from fear
Neither unto hope doth cling;
'Tis not moved to agony,
In its task of climbing high,
To behold that joy hath fled,
Nor to see that life is sped
_Where faith lives and hope is dead_.

This is wondrous 'midst my woe,
Yet 'tis so that thus my bliss,
If it comes, may come to show
That amidst a thousand 'tis
That to which the palm should go;
Let not fame this truth deny
But unto the nations cry
With loud tongue that Love doth rest
Firm and loyal in my breast
_Where faith lives and hope is dead_.

Ah! thy rigorous disdain
And my merit, poor and low,
So affright me that 'tis plain,
Though I love thee, this I know,
Yet I dare not tell my pain;
Ever open I espy
The gate to my agony,
And that life doth slow depart,
For thou heedest not the heart
_Where faith lives and hope is dead_.

Never doth my fancy frame
Such a frenzied, foolish, thought
As to think that I could claim
Any bliss that I have sought
By my faith and heart aflame;
Thou canst know with certainty
My surrendered soul doth try,
Shepherdess, to love thee true,
For 'tis there that thou wilt view
_Where faith lives and hope is dead_.

Erastro became silent, and straightway the absent Crisio, to the sound of the same instruments, began to sing in this fashion:

CRISIO.
If the loyal heart despair
Of achieving happiness,
Whoso faints in the career
Of the loving passion's stress,
What shall he as guerdon bear?
I know not that any may
Win delight and pleasure gay
In the sudden rush of Love,
If the greatest joys but prove
_'Tis no faith that doth not stay_.

This undoubted truth we know
That in battle and in love
He that proud and bold is, though
Conqueror he at first may prove,
Sinks at last beneath the blow;
And the wise man knows to-day
That the victory ever lay
'Midst the strife in constancy,
And he knows, whate'er it be
_'Tis no faith that doth not stay_.

Whoso seeks in love to gain
Nothing save his happiness,
In his fickle thought and vain,
Faith that shall withstand all stress
Cannot for one hour remain;
I myself these words would say,
If my faith should not display
Constancy amidst the storm
Of ill, as when hope is warm:
_'Tis no faith that doth not stay_.

Madness of a lover new,
His impetuous hastening,
Sighs and sadness, these, 'tis true,
Are but fleeting clouds of spring,
In a moment lost to view:
'Tis not love he doth display,
Greed and folly lead astray,
For he loves, yet loveth not,
No man loves who dieth not,
_'Tis no faith that doth not stay_.

All approved of the order the shepherds were keeping in their songs, and with desire they were waiting for Thyrsis or Damon to begin; but at once Damon satisfied them, for, as Crisio finished, to the sound of his own rebeck, he sang thus:

DAMON.

Thankless Amaryllis fair,
Who shall make thee tender prove,
If the faith of my true love
And the anguish of my care
Do thee but to hardness move?
Maiden, 'tis to thee well known
That the love which is in me
Leads to this extremity:
Save my faith in God alone
_Naught is faith but faith in thee_.

But although I go so high
In love for a mortal thing,
Such bliss to my woe doth cling
That the soul I raise thereby
To the land whence it doth spring;
Thus this truth I know full well
That my love remains in me
In life, in death, ceaselessly,
And, if faith in love doth dwell,
_Naught is faith but faith in thee_.

All the years that I have passed
In my services of love,
My soul's sacrifices prove
All the cares that hold me fast
And the faith that doth me move;
Wherefore for the ill I bear
I will ask no remedy,
Should I ask it willingly,
'Tis because, my lady fair,
_Naught is faith but faith in thee_.

In my soul's tempestuous ocean
Peace and calm I ne'er have found,
And my faith is never crowned
With that hope and glad emotion
Whereon faith itself doth ground;
Love and fortune I deplore
Yet revenge is not for me,
For they bring felicity
In that, though I hope no more,
_Naught is faith but faith in thee_.

Damon's song fully confirmed in Timbrio and in Silerio the good opinion they had formed of the rare wit of the shepherds who were there; and the more when, at the persuasion of Thyrsis and of Elicio, the now free and disdainful Lauso, to the sound of Arsindo's flute, released his voice in verses such as these:

LAUSO.
Fickle Love, disdain thy chains
Broke, and to my memory
Hath restored the liberty
Born from absence of thy pains;
Let him, whoso would, accuse
My faith as capricious, weak,
And as best he thinketh, seek
To convert me to his views.

I my love did soon forsake,
He may say, my faith was hung
By a hair so finely strung
That it e'en a breath could break;
All the plaints Love did provoke,
All my sighs, did feignèd prove,
Nay the very shafts of Love
Did not pierce beneath my cloke.

For no torture 'tis for me
To be callèd fickle, vain,
If I may behold again
My neck from the mad yoke free;
Who Silena is, I know,
And how strange her mood hath been,
How her peaceful face serene
Promise and deceit doth show.

To her wondrous dignity,
To her fair and downcast eyes,
'Tis not much to yield the prize
Of the will, whose'er it be,
For at first sight we adore;
Now we know her, fain would we
Life and more, if more could be,
Give to see her nevermore.

Ofttimes to her have I given
Heaven's Silena and my dear
For her name--she was so fair
That she seemed the child of Heaven;
Better now her name shall be--
Now that I need fear no more--
Not Silena, Heaven's flower,
But false Siren of the sea.

Earnest words, frivolities,
Gazing eyes and ardent pen
Of the lover, blind and vain,--
Take a countless sum of these,
And the last is ever first;
Whoso hath in love surpassed,
As the first loved, e'en at last
Is by her disdain accursed.

How much fairer would we deem
Our Silena's beauteous grace,
If her wisdom and her ways
Did her fairness but beseem!
She discretion hath at will,
But a halter 'tis to slay
The presumption of her way,
For she useth it so ill.

I speak not with shameless tongue,
For it were but passion wild,
But I speak as one beguiled,
Who hath suffered grievous wrong;
Passion doth no more me blind,
Nor desire that she should wrong
Suffer, for always my tongue
Was in reason's bonds confined.

Her caprices manifold,
And her moods that ever change,
From her every hour estrange
Those who were her friends of old;
Since Silena foes hath made
In the many ways we see,
Wholly good she cannot be,
Or they must be wholly bad.

Lauso ended his song, and though he thought that no one understood him, through ignorance of Silena's disguised name, more than three of those who were there knew her, and even marvelled that Lauso's modest behaviour should have gone so far as to attack anyone, especially the disguised shepherdess with whom they had seen him so much in love. But in the opinion of his friend Damon he was fully excused, for he was acquainted with Silena's conduct, and knew how she had conducted herself towards Lauso, and wondered at what he left unsaid. Lauso finished, as has been said; and as Galatea had heard of the charm of Nisida's voice, she wished to sing first, so as to constrain her to do the same. And for this reason, before any other shepherd could begin, beckoning to Arsindo to continue sounding his flute, to its sound with her exquisite voice she sang in this wise:

GALATEA.
E'en as Love ever seeks the soul to entame,
Tempting it by the semblance of delight,
E'en so she from Love's deadly pangs in flight
Turneth, who knows its name bestowed by fame.

The breast that doth oppose his amorous flame,
The breast with honourable resistance armed,
By Love's unkindness is but little harmed,
Little his fire and rigour doth inflame.

Secure is she who never was beloved,
Nor could love, from that tongue which in dispraise
Of her honour, with subtle glow doth gleam.

But if to love and not to love have proved
Fruitful in harm, how shall she spend her days
Who honour dearer e'en than life doth deem?

It could easily be seen in Galatea's song that she was replying to Lauso's malicious one, and that she was not against unfettered wills, but against the malicious tongues and wronged souls which, in not gaining what they desire, change the love they once showed to a malicious and detestable hatred, as she fancied in Lauso's case; but perhaps she would have escaped from this error, if she had known Lauso's good disposition, and had not been ignorant of Silena's evil one. As soon as Galatea ceased to sing, she begged Nisida with courteous words to do the same. She, as she was as courteous as beautiful, without letting herself be pressed, to the sound of Florisa's pipe sang in this fashion:

NISIDA.
Bravely I took my courage as defence
In the dread conflict and onslaught of Love,
My boldness bravely raised to Heaven above
Against the rigour of the clear offence.

But yet so overwhelming and intense
The battery, and withal so weak my power
That, though Love seized me not, in one short hour
Love brought me to confess his power immense.

O'er worth, o'er honour, o'er a mind discreet,
Shy modesty, a bosom of disdain,
Love doth with ease achieve the victory;

Wherefore, in order to escape defeat,
Strength from no words of wisdom can we gain,
Unto this truth an eye-witness am I.

When Nisida ceased to sing and to fill with admiration Galatea and those who had been listening to her, they were already quite near the spot where they had determined to pass the noon-tide hour. But in that short time Belisa had time to fulfil Silveria's request, which was that she should sing something; and she, accompanied by the sound of Arsindo's flute, sang what follows:

BELISA.
Fancy, that is fancy-free,
Listen to the reason why
Our fame groweth steadily,
Pass the vain affection by,
Mother of all injury;
For whene'er the soul doth load
Itself with some loving load,
Bane that takes the life away,
Mixed with juice of bitter bay,
Is to it but pleasing food.

But our precious liberty
Should not bartered be nor sold
For the greatest quantity
Of the best refinèd gold,
Best in worth and quality;
Shall we bring ourselves to bear
Such a loss and heed the prayer
Of a lover whom we scorn,
If all blessings ever born
Do not with such bliss compare?

If the grief we cannot bear
When the body, free from love,
Is confined in prison drear,
Shall the pain not greater prove,
When the very soul is there?
Pain 'twill be of such a kind
That no remedy we find
For such ill in patience, time,
Worth, or learning in its prime,
Naught save death alone is kind.

Wherefore let my healthy mood
From this madness flee away,
Leave behind so false a good,
Let my free will ever sway
Every fancy as it would;
Let my tender neck and free
Never yield itself to be
Placed beneath the loving yoke,
Whereby peace is, at a stroke,
Slain, and banished liberty.

The shepherdess's verses of freedom reached the soul of the hapless Marsilio, by reason of the little hope her words held out that her deeds would grow better; but as the faith with which he loved her was so firm, the noteworthy proofs of freedom he had heard uttered, could not but keep him as much without it as he had been before. At this point the road leading to the stream of palms ended, and though they had not had the intention of spending the noon-tide heat there, when they reached it and saw the comfort of the beautiful spot, it would have of itself compelled them not to go further. When they had come to it then, straightway the venerable Aurelio commanded all to seat themselves beside the clear and glassy stream, which was flowing in amongst the short grass, and had its birth at the foot of a very tall and ancient palm (for there being on all the banks of the Tagus only that one, and another which was beside it, that place and stream was called "of the palms"), and after sitting down, they were served by Aurelio's shepherds with more good-will and simplicity than costly victuals, satisfying their thirst with the clear cool waters that the pure stream offered them. And on ending the short and pleasant repast, some of the shepherds separated and departed to seek some shady place apart, where they might make up for the unslept hours of the past night; and there remained alone only those of Aurelio's company and village with Timbrio, Silerio, Nisida and Blanca, Thyrsis and Damon, to whom it appeared to be better to enjoy the fair converse that was expected there, than any other enjoyment that sleep could offer them. Aurelio then, guessing and almost knowing this their purpose, said to them:

'It will be well, sirs, that we, who are here, since we have not wished to yield ourselves to sweet sleep, should not fail to make use of this time we steal from it in something that may be more to our pleasure, and what, it seems to me, will not fail to give it us, is that each, as best he can, should here show the sharpness of his wits, propounding some question, or riddle, to whom the companion who may be at his side may be forced to reply; since with this pastime two things will be gained--one to spend with less tedium the hours we shall be here, the other, not to weary our ears so much with always hearing lamentations of love, and love-sick dirges.'

All straightway fell in with Aurelio's wish, and without any of them leaving the place where they were, the first who began to question was Aurelio himself, speaking in this wise:

AURELIO.
Who is he, that mighty one,
That from East to farthest West
Winneth fame and high renown?
Sometimes strong and self-possessed,
Sometimes weak with courage gone;
Health he gives and takes away,
Strength on many every day
He bestows or doth withhold,
Stronger he when he is old
Than when youth is bright and gay.

Changing where he changeth not
By a strange preëminence,
Strong men tremble, by him caught,
He hath rarest eloquence
Unto sullen dumbness brought;
He his being and his name
Measureth in different ways,
From a thousand lands of praise
He is wont to take his fame.

He unarmed hath conquerèd
Armèd men, as needs he must,
Who hath dealt with him is sped,
Who would bring him to the dust,
To the dust is brought instead;
'Tis a thing that doth astound
That a champion should be found,
In the field and in the town,
'Gainst a chief of such renown,
Though he soon shall bite the ground.

The answering of this question fell to the old shepherd Arsindo, who was beside Aurelio; and having for a little while considered what it could denote, at last he said to him:

'It seems to me, Aurelio, that our age compels us to be more enamoured of that which your question denotes than of the most graceful shepherdess that might present herself to us, for, if I am not mistaken, the mighty and renowned one you mention is wine, and all the attributes you have given him tally with it.'

'You speak truth, Arsindo,' replied Aurelio, 'and I am inclined to say that I am sorry to have propounded a question which has been solved with much ease; but do you tell yours, for at your side you have one who will be able to unravel it for you, however knotty it may be.'

'I agree,' said Arsindo; and straightway he propounded the following:

ARSINDO.
Who is he that loseth hue
Where he most is wont to thrive,
In a moment doth revive
And his colour takes anew?
In the birth hour he is grey,
Afterwards black as a crow,
Last, so ruddy is his glow
That it maketh all men gay.

Laws nor charters doth he keep,
To the flames a faithful friend,
Oftentimes he doth attend
E'en where lords and princes sleep;
Dead he manhood doth assume,
Living takes a woman's name,
He at heart is lurid flame
But in semblance deepest gloom.

It was Damon who was at Arsindo's side, and scarcely had the latter finished his question, when he said to him:

'It seems to me, Arsindo, that your query is not so dark as the thing it denotes, for if I am not wrong in it, it is charcoal of which you say that when dead it is called masculine, and when glowing and alive _brasa_,[219] which is a feminine noun, and all the other parts suit it in every respect, as this does; and if you are in the same plight as Aurelio, by reason of the ease with which your question has been understood, I am going to keep you company in it, since Thyrsis, to whom it falls to answer me, will make us equal.'

And straightway he spoke his:

DAMON.
Who is she of courtly grace,
Well-adorned, a dainty dame,
Timorous, yet bold of face,
Modest she, yet lacking shame,
Pleasant, yet she doth displease?
When in numbers, to astound,
Masculine their name doth sound,
And it is a certain thing
That amongst them is the king,
And with all men they are found.

'Verily, friend Damon,' said Thyrsis forthwith, 'your challenge comes true, and you pay the forfeit that Aurelio and Arsindo pay, if any there be; for I tell you I know that what your riddle conceals is a letter,[220] and a pack of cards.'

Damon admitted that Thyrsis was right. And straightway Thyrsis propounded his riddle thus:

THYRSIS.
Who is she that is all eyes,
All eyes she from head to foot,
And, although she seeks it not,
Sometimes causeth lovers' sighs?
Quarrels too she doth appease,
Though indeed she knows not why,
And although she is all eye,
Very few the things she sees.
She doth call herself a grief
Counted mortal, good and dire
Evil worketh, and doth fire
Love, and to love brings relief.

Thyrsis's riddle puzzled Elicio, for it was his turn to answer it, and he was on the point of 'giving up,' as the saying is; but in a little while he managed to say that it was jealousy, and, Thyrsis admitting it, Elicio straightway propounded the following:

ELICIO.
'Tis obscure, and yet 'tis clear,
Thousand opposites containing,
Truth to us at last explaining,
Which it hides from far and near;
Born at times from beauty rare
Or from lofty fantasies,
Unto strife it giveth rise,
Though it deals with things of air.

Unto all its name is known,
From the children to the old,
'Tis in numbers manifold,
Divers are the lords they own;
Every beldame doth possess
One of them to make her gay,
Things of pleasure for a day,
Full of joy or weariness.

And to rob them of their sense
Men of wisdom keep awake,
Whatsoe'er the pains they take,
Some are doomed to impotence;
Sometimes foolish, sometimes witty;
Easy, or with tangles fraught,
Whether naught it be or not,
Say, what is this thing so pretty?

Timbrio could not hit upon the thing which Elicio's question denoted, and he almost began to be ashamed at seeing that he delayed longer in answering than any one else, but not even this consideration made him come to a better perception of it; and he delayed so long that Galatea, who was after Nisida, said:

'If it is allowed to break the order which is given, and the one who should first know may reply, I say for my part that I know what the riddle propounded denotes, and I am ready to solve it, if señor Timbrio gives me leave.'

'Certainly, fair Galatea,' replied Timbrio, 'for I know that just as I lack, so you have a superabundance of, wit, to solve greater difficulties; but nevertheless I wish you to be patient until Elicio repeats it, and if this time I do not hit it, the opinion I have of my wit and yours, will be confirmed with more truth.'

Elicio repeated his question, and straightway Timbrio solved its meaning, saying:

'With the very thing by which I thought your query was obscured, Elicio, it appears to me to be solved, for the last line says, that they are to say what is this thing so pretty. And so I answer you in what you ask me, and say that your question means that which we mean by a pretty thing;[221] and do not be surprised that I have been long in answering, for, if I had answered sooner, I would have been more surprised at my wit; which will show what it is in the small skill of my question, which is this: