Chapter XXI: Conclusion (1)

It is only after having duly studied the polite literature of Spain in all its parts, with the interest attached to literary investigation, that it is possible to characterize it as a whole, and to obtain possession of the results which such a characteristic judgment ought to present.

I. Spanish poetry is more decidedly national than any other branch of modern poetry in Europe. Even the Italians have only transferred their spirit and character into forms; which, though ennobled by a genial classic refinement of style, were originally derived from the Provençals. But the Spanish, or to speak with more precision, the Castilian poetry, which arose in the neighbourhood of the Provençal, is a peculiar stream from the romantic Parnassus. When the Spaniards admitted the Italian forms into their poetry, they did not transfer the old Spanish character to these nationalized forms, in the same manner as the Italians, by classic improvement of style, and enlargement of the boundaries of romantic composition, converted the Provençal poetry into pure Italian poetry. The Spanish poets made the classic purity, and polish of the Italian forms, subservient in a new manner to the orientalism of their ancient national literature. A tendency to the old orientalism is indeed plainly perceptible even in the works of the few Spanish poets, who were the most disposed, like Luis de Leon, Cervantes, and the two Argensolas, to adopt the opinions of the ancients and the Italians with regard to the correctness of ideas and images. This orientalism of the Spanish character and poetry which has long been disapproved, is now decidedly pronounced bad taste, because the general idea of poetry, which is the same for all ages and all nations, is superseded by Greek, Italian, or French national ideas; and thus that beauty which is general is made subject to particular and subordinate laws. But as long as the ideal creations of the imagination are not entirely at variance with reason and nature, they may far overstep the boundaries of the Greek and other national forms, without violating the supreme laws of the beautiful. A true theory of taste should therefore induce us to look beyond all factitious limits of the creative and plastic powers of imagination for a critical point of view, which has only nature and reason for its basis. Considered from such a point of view, that orientalism, which is ridiculous and absurd, becomes at once distinguishable from that which belongs to the truly sublime and beautiful. Spanish poets, it is true, have often failed to observe this distinction. But owing to the usual mode of estimating Spanish literature in the mass, justice has not been done to that genuine beauty which it so conspicuously discloses even in the midst of absurdity.

II. This unjust system of criticism appears to account for the very slight attention which has been paid to the high elegance and classic purity of a considerable portion of the polite literature of Spain. In this respect Cervantes alone outweighs a whole host of the correct Gallicists, whose highest merit is to have written interesting prose in well constructed verse. Metrical elegance is indeed a distinguishing property in many of the most irregular productions of the Spanish poets; this is evident in their comedies, and more particularly in the comedies of Calderon, which present the highest charm of rhythmical harmony. On this occasion the classic prose of the golden age of Spanish literature ought also to be brought to recollection. In the number of prose works distinguished for elegance of style and intellectual energy of composition, the literature of Spain far surpasses that of Italy.

III. The deficiency of one kind of riches in Spanish literature, is amply compensated by the abundance of another kind, which is in a great measure peculiar to that literature, and which has manifested itself in an inconceivable number of works. The portion of lyric poetry in which the Spaniards have imitated the Italian forms, tolerably counterbalances the amount of Italian poetry in the same style. But if to that portion be added the whole store of lyric romances and songs in the old popular style, a multitude appears which sets calculation at defiance. Nothing, however, could be more absurd, than to estimate the poetic fertility of a nation according to the number of works called poems, which it may possess. It is from the sum of genuine poetry actually existing in any considerable number of such works, though it should be visible only in the seed or in the bud which has withered in the opening, that the balance must be struck when the poetic riches of nations is the subject of comparison. If the mere number of productions were to decide, Italy would be as rich in dramatic literature as Spain. But in Italy, it unfortunately happened that scarcely any writers except those of middling and even inferior talent laboured to increase the stock of Italian dramas to infinity. In Spanish dramatic literature, on the contrary, the most fertile writers shew themselves to be great poets even amidst their faults. According to the same principle the multitude of nominal epic poems, which have appeared in Spain, and in which scarcely a feeble spark of true epopee is discernible, must not be taken into account in estimating the poetic treasures of Spanish literature. A single canto of Ariosto or Tasso, is worth all the Spanish epic poetry that ever was written.

IV. Of all the poets of modern times, the Spanish can alone be regarded as the inventors of the poetry of catholic mysticism, which they have employed in a very ingenious, though, it must be confessed, not in an exemplary manner. He must indeed be completely dazzled by the brilliant side of Spanish poetry, who refuses to acknowledge that the character of the sacred comedy is monstrous, even as it appears in the Autos of the estimable Calderon. But, on the other hand, the affectation of philosophic criticism must have deadened all susceptibility for that bold style of spiritual poetry in him who denies to the Spanish Autos the possession of beauties, which deserve to be admired. What might not this poetry have become, had reason extended her influence over it in a more powerful degree, not, indeed, to reduce it to the level of prose, but to divest it of the mask of caricature, while soaring in the lofty regions of mystic invention!

END OF VOL. I.

AND OF THE HISTORY OF SPANISH LITERATURE.

_E. Justins, Printer, 41, Brick Lane, Whitechapel._

ERRATA FOR VOL I.

Page 27, title of Book I. for _end of the sixteenth_, read
_commencement of the sixteenth century_.

43, l. 4 from the top, for _Don Juan de Manuel_, read _Don Juan
Manuel_.

51, l. 14 from the top, for _beaux tenebreux_ read _beau
tenebreux_.

100, l. 1 of the second note, for _Diez_ read _Dieze_.

102, l. 11 from the top, for _Bachellor_ read _Bachelor_.

128, last line, for _Count of Arragon_ read _Court of Arragon_.

131, l. 12 from the top, for _applies_ read _applied_.

161, last line but one of the note, for _called_ read _calls_.

165, l. 1 of the second note, for _Gottengen_ read _Göttingen_.

168, l. 1, for _changed_ read _charged_.

180, l. 5 from the top, for _ecologues_ read _eclogues_.

193, l. 18 from the top, for _Diego Mendoza_ read _Diego de
Mendoza_.

215, l. 2 from top, for _depths_ read _depth_.

218, l. 6 from the top, for _formed_ read _found_.

253, l. 7 from the bottom, for _though it even constantly_ read
_though it constantly_.

254, l. 7 from the bottom, for _Acuna_ read _Acuña_.

272, l. 13 from the top, for _belong_ read _belongs_.

303, l. 12 from the top, for _Lusiade_ read _Lusiad_.

309, l. 14 from the top, for _mankind_ read _man_.

312, l. 2 of the note, for _edition_ read _addition_.

364, 7 from the bottom, for _Span_ read _Spain_.

435, l. 7 from the top, for _title of a work_ read _title for a
work_.

448, l. 8 from the bottom of the note, for _to Marshal_ read _to
the Marshal_.

469, l. 6 from the top, for _voluntary_ read _voluntarily_.

524, l. 12 from the top, for _analize_ read _analyze_.

551, l. 8 from the top, for _Nothing poetical was at this period
produced_, read _Nothing poetical produced at this period_.

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FOOTNOTES:

[1] This, in its turn, is only a small part of a very extensive work, the general title of which is, _Geschichte der Künst und Wissenschaften seit der Wiederherstellung derselben bis an das Ende des achtzenten Jahrhunderts, von einer Gesellschaft gelehrter männer ausgearbeitet_. (History of Arts and Learning from their restoration to the end of the eighteenth century, by a society of learned men.) Different authors have each taken a part in this great literary enterprize, which may be said to form an Encyclopedia, though not on the usual plan of a dictionary.

[2] There is also a French translation of Bouterwek’s volume on Spanish literature, which, as far as it goes, is correct and well executed in point of style; but notwithstanding that the translator appears to have been capable of doing justice to the work, it is greatly mutilated. The Portuguese volume, which is in some respects the more valuable of the two, is not touched by the French translator.

[3] _Letters from an English Traveller in Spain, in 1778, on the Origin and Progress of Poetry in that kingdom, London 1781._--This book was written by _Mr. Dillon_, author of “Travels through Spain,” “History of Peter the Cruel,” &c.

[4] Fought in the year 712.

[5] This remark, from the _Indiculo luminoso_ of Bishop Alvaro of Cordova, is noticed in the preface to Du Cange’s Glossary, and is repeated by Velasquez in his History of Spanish Poetry, Dieze’s edition, page 33.--See also Eichhorn’s _Allgemeine Geschichte der Cultur und Litteratur_, vol. i. p. 121. The details of the history of Arabic poetry in Spain cannot be comprehended in a history of Spanish and Portuguese poetry. The bibliographic erudition on the subject of Arabic poetry, which Dieze has displayed in his remarks on Velasquez, does not belong to the subject of this work.

[6] Velasquez, Dieze, and other authors, furnish information on the history of the Biscayan language and poetry. This language, with the poetry to which it may have given birth, has had no influence on literature beyond its own territory, and appears to have had very little even there.

[7] How sensibly the neglect of the Catalonian or Valencian tongue, after the union of the kingdoms of Arragon and Castile, was felt in the provinces which belonged to the former, may be seen from the passage quoted by Eichhorn, in his _Allg. Gesch. der Cul. u. Litt._ vol. i. page 129, from Scuolano’s History of Valencia. But the pleasing language of the Troubadours was doubtless very defective. It would otherwise have been difficult to have made the Catalonian poets so soon proselytes to the Castilian dialect, especially as, besides the difference of language, the natural jealousy between the Arragonian and Castilian provinces was strong enough to manifest itself by political effects even in the eighteenth century. The imperfection of the Troubadour phraseology may have been partly owing to its fluctuations, and the various forms it assumed, in the several dialects. The difference of the dialects appears particularly evident on comparing the real PROVENÇAL of the French Troubadours with the Valencian, called LENGUA VALLENCIANA. The dialect of the Provençal Troubadours may, without much difficulty, be translated by conjecture, if the reader be acquainted with French and Italian; but the meaning of the Valencian cannot be so easily guessed at, even with the additional knowledge of Castilian. As a proof of this, it will be sufficient to peruse a passage of the _Libre de los Dones_, of _Mosen_, [that is, Monsieur, instead of the Castilian Don] _Jaume_ [James] _Roig_, reprinted in Valencia, 1735, in 4to. The author is one of the last poets who wrote in the Valencian dialect, and the whole didactic poem, if so it may be called, is composed in short verses of the following description:

Yo com absent
Del mon vivint,
Aquell linquint
Aconortat,
Del apartat
Dant hi del peu,
Vell jubileu
Mort civilment,
Ja per la gent
Desconegut,
Per tots tengut
Con hom selvatge
Tenint ostatge, &c. &c.

Owing to the difference of the dialects, a foreigner might, by a short residence in Madrid, learn to express himself in Castilian with more fluency than it is spoken by a great part of the inhabitants of the Arragonian provinces.

[8] At least such is the opinion of Gregorio Mayans y Ziscar, given in his work, known under the title of _Origenes de la Lengua Española_, part i. page 8.

[9] An old prejudice attributes the forcible aspiration which the Spanish shares in common with the German and Arabic, solely to the mixture of the latter with the Castilian. This prejudice is pardonable in the Spaniards, who are not aware of the influence which the German guttural must have had over their language; but the Germans, who know the nature of their mother tongue, ought to recollect that the same Arabic words which are strongly aspirated by the Spaniards, are pronounced by the Portuguese, though equally naturalized among them, with a hissing sound. Besides, how does it happen that the G before E and I, which is a guttural with the Germans, has nearly the same sound with the Castilians, though it is never so pronounced by any other people whose language appears to have risen on the ruins of that of ancient Rome? The Germanic pronunciation of the Visigoths, which was doubtless preserved in the mountains of Castile, would afterwards be easily confounded with the Arabic. The Castilian conversion of O into UE, also resembles the change which takes place in German of O into OE. Let, for instance, the Spanish CUERPO and PUEBLO be compared with the German KÖRPER and PÖBEL.

[10] The Portuguese language would perhaps be less depreciated by the Spaniards, if it did not remind them of the vulgar idiom spoken by the Galician water-carriers in Madrid. On the contrary, the Portuguese think the Castilian language inflated, and at the same time rough and also affected. Both nations are as little disposed to come to an agreement on the merits of their respective languages as the Danes and Swedes are regarding theirs; for the Castilian and Portuguese are, like the Danish and Swedish, only two conflicting dialects of the same tongue. The Swedes admit that the Danish language exceeds their own in softness, though they consider that softness disagreeable, and the harsher Swedish more sonorous on account of the greater abundance and fulness of its vowel sounds; thus, precisely in the same manner, do the Spaniards condemn the softness of the Portuguese tongue. The elision of the letter L in a great number of Portuguese words, as in COR, PAÇO, for _color_, _palacio_, and the remarkable change of L into R, as in _branco_, _brando_, for _blanco_, _blando_, are peculiarities of that language to which foreigners do not easily reconcile themselves.

[11] The first essay towards a history of the Portuguese language, and an introduction to Portuguese orthography, were published in Lisbon at the time when Portugal was a Spanish province.--Duarte Nunez de Liaõ, the author of both works, was a statesman and magistrate. (_Desembargador da Camara da Supplicaçaõ._) The former is entitled _Origem da Lingoa Portugueza_, _Lisb._ 1606, in 8vo. It is dedicated to Philip III. king of Spain, who is, however, on this occasion merely addressed as _Dom Phelipe II. de Portugal_. In the preface the author states his other, but older work, (_Orthographia da Lingoa Portugueza_, Lisb. 1576, in 8vo.) to be the first of the kind. The Portuguese have, however, for two centuries laboured with as little success as the Germans, to introduce uniformity of orthography into their language. The convertible M and AÕ appear to have been so early selected to denote the French nasal tone which occurs in numerous final syllables, that Nunez de Liaõ found it necessary to acquiesce in the custom, according to which the same word might be very differently written, as _naçaõ_ or _naçam_, _naõ_ or _nam_, pronounced nearly as _nassaong_ and _naong_, with the French sound of _on_, _bon_. But it surely could not have been very difficult to dispossess the totally unnecessary and barbarous H in _hum_ and _huma_ (from the latin _unus_ and _una_) of the place it had assumed, as it is now banished from elegant Portuguese orthography. Trifles of this kind present more materials for reflection than a first view gives reason to expect. When the orthography of a country continues to be an object of reform, that nation is deficient in a certain degree of refinement, the attainment of which has either been missed, or the right pursuit of which is but just commenced. Indeed what necessity is there for the French, Italians, Spaniards and Portuguese, writing the same sound, occurring in the same word, in four different ways, as for example, _bataille_, _battaglia_, _batalla_, _batalha_?

[12] Nothing could be more improper than to follow Du Cange, (Glossar. praef. § 34, sq.) in dividing the _vulgare idioma_ of the present inhabitants of the Pyrenean Peninsula into the _Castellanum_, _Limosinum_, and _Vasconicum_.

[13] A particular account of the Limosin poetry, even in its last period, which is late enough to come into the division of time called the latter ages, does not belong to the history of modern poetry. It ought to be treated as the last part of the chivalrous poetry of the middle ages.--See the notices in Velasquez and Dieze, p. 45, and the still more instructive sketch of the history of Limosin poetry, in Eichhorn’s _Gesch. der Cult. u. Litt._ vol. i. p. 123.

[14] That the Portuguese and the Galician were originally not to be distinguished from each other, is expressly stated by that attentive observer of the forms of his native language, Nunez de Liaõ, who says, _As quaes ambas_, (namely, the Portuguese and the Galician tongues) _eraõ antigamente quasi huma mesma nas palavras, e diphthongos, e pronunciação, que as outras partes de Hespanha naõ tem_. ORIGEM DA LINGOA PORTUGUEZA, cap. VI.

[15] Velasquez, who felt this, thought fit when he read the _Lusiade de Camões_, to pay a particular compliment to the author, at the expense of the Portuguese language; for, after delivering the same opinion on that language, which is entertained by most Spaniards, he very elegantly adds: “the muses thought otherwise when they spoke through the mouth of Camoens.”

[16] _Cada fuente de Portugal y cada monte son Hippocrenes y Parnassos_, says Manuel de Faria y Sousa, in his _Epitome de las Historias Portugueses_. Father Sarmiento, a Spanish author, whom national prejudice does not prevent from doing justice to the Portuguese, mentions this observation in his instructive _Memorias para la Poesia Española_.

[17] The word is used in this extensive sense by Sarmiento in his _Memorias_, or as the book is sometimes called, _Obras posthumas_, parte i. p. 168. Authors are far from being agreed respecting the origin of the term _redondillas_, (according to the Portuguese orthography _redondilhas_.) But is not the word more naturally derived from _redondo_ (round), than from a small town called Redondo? Instead of redondillas, these compositions are sometimes named _redondillos_, the word _versos_ being understood. In German they might be called _ringelverse_ (circular verses.)

[18] Shall it be said that there is, in the German language, no kind of verse which unites to so much grace, a character so truly popular! Let Burger’s _Nachtfeier der Venus_ be considered, before this be determined. Even the Esthonian Serfs, on the coast of the Baltic, chaunt their simple ballads in the same measure. Proof of this may be seen on reference to Petri’s _Nachrichten von den Esthen_, vol. ii. p. 69.

[19] Among others, Sarmiento, who in support of this opinion, quotes some verses from Virgil, for example: _Inter viburna cupressi_--_Tondenti barba cadebat_, &c. These verses have, it is true, eight syllables, but not four trochaic feet.

[20] How does it happen that none of the Spanish authors have taken notice of the ancient songs sung by the Roman soldiers, though they are evidently _redondillas_? Suetonius has preserved some remarkable examples of these songs; and the same measure occurs after the decline of latin poetry, particularly in some pious verses of Prudentius, which are quoted by Sarmiento.

[21] After examining Arabic verses, written in the European manner, it cannot be difficult, even for persons unacquainted with the language, to form a sufficient idea of the influence which the monotonic rhymes of the Moors had on the old Castilian romances. See, for example, the following passage of the Koran:

Va sciamsi, va dhohàha,
Val Kamari eda talàha,
Van nahari, eda giallàha,
Val Laïli eda jagsciàha.

But the Spanish ear required some variety, and accordingly preferred a predominant to a single unchanging rhyme. Thus in the romance:--

Media noche era por hilo;
Los gallos querian _cantar_
Donde Claros con amores
No podia _reposar_,
Quanto muy grandes sospiros
Que el amor se hazia _dar_, &c. &c.

[22] Such _rimas asonantes_ as occur in the words _noble_ and _pone_, _dolor_ and _corazon_, are easily recognized. But from some old Spanish romances, it appears that the return of the same consonants sometimes supplies the place of an assonant rhyme; for example, when the words _baxo_, _crucifixo_, _enojo_, &c. follow each other at short intervals.

[23] See what is stated by Sarmiento, p. 191, from an old letter of the Marquis of Santillana, of which more particular notice must soon be taken in this work.

[24] The Spanish and Portuguese _versos de arte mayor_ very much resemble some of the English popular ballads, with regard to their measure. There is, however, in the rudest of the Spanish and Portuguese strophes of this kind, more real rhythmus, than even in the modern popular songs of the English. An old political song, by Juan de Mena, commences thus:--

Como, el, que duerme con la pesada,
Que quiere y no puede jamas acordar,
Mas si lo puede á la fin desechar,
Queda la mente con el desvelada, &c.

[25] Sarmiento has written at sufficient length on the origin of the Castilian romances, but the information he gives is more copious than satisfactory. It would require the most laborious investigation, joined to the highest critical sagacity, to penetrate the obscurity in which this part of the history of literature is involved. How indeed can it be ascertained to what age a ballad belongs, the author of which is unknown, and which, in the progressive improvement of the language and the national taste, has been, without scruple, altered by the singers?

[26] These monuments of old Castilian rhyme were little known until rescued from oblivion in 1775 by the publication of D. Thomas Antonio Sanchez’s _Coleccion de Poesias Castellanas Anteriores al siglo XV._ a work which in respect to philology is certainly very meritorious. The collection, however, appears to terminate with the third volume, (Madrid, 1782), which contains the _Poema de Alexandra Magno_. The first volume contains the celebrated letter of the _Marquis de Santillana_ on the ancient Spanish poetry, which, for the first time, is printed in that volume, with a commentary by the publisher, full of philological learning.

[27] For example, in the following passage which Sarmiento has also quoted; the language, too, differs less from the present Spanish in this, than in many other parts of the work.

De los sus ojos tan fuertemente llorando,
Tornaba la cabeça, e estavalos catando.
Vio puertas abiertas, e uzos sin canados,
Alcandaras vacìas sin pieles e sin mantos
E sin falcones, e sin azores, mudados.
Sospirò mio Zid; ca mucho aviè grandes cuidados.
Fablò mio Zid bien, e tan mejorado:
Grado á ti, Señor Padre, que estas en alto.
Esto me han envuelto mìs enemigos malos, &c.

[28] He states at the beginning of the work the importance he placed on the labour of the rhyme, which he seems to have particularly valued, because he made four lines always rhyme together in succession:--

Mester trago fremoso, no es de juglaria,
Mester es sen pecado, ca es de clerecia.
_Fablar curso rimado por la quaderna via
Per silabas cantadas, ca es grant maestria._

[29]

El padre a vii. años metiole a leer,
Diole a maestros ornados de seso e de saber,
Los megores que pudo in Grecia escoger,
Que lo sopiessen en las vii. artes emponer
Aprend de las vii. artes cada dia licion
De todas cada dia facia disputacion, &c.

[30] Sarmiento and Sanchez may be consulted respecting those enquiries. Some notices on the same topics are also to be found in Velasquez. Had Berceo composed verses on temporal subjects, it is probable that the Spanish writers would not have disputed with so much zeal on the merits of his life. It is curious, that the pious author himself calls his verse prose. The passage runs thus:--

Quiero far _una prosa_ in Roman paladino,
En qual suele el pueblo fablar a su vecino,
_Ca non so tan letrado a far otro latino_.
Bien valdra, como ereo, un vaso de bon vino.

[31] Having stated that he learnt his art from an Egyptian, whom he invited from Alexandria, Alphonso adds:--

La piedra que llaman philosophal
Sabia facer, e me la enseñó,
Fizimoslo juntos, despues solo yo;
Con que muchas veces creció mi caudal.

The chemical prescriptions have a very quaint effect, as delivered in the dancing measure of these verses, viz.

Tomad el mercurio assi como sale
De minas de tierra con limpia pureza.
Purgadlo con cueros par la su maleza,
Porque mas limpieza en esto mi cale.
E porque su peso tan solo se iguale,
Con doze onzas del dicho compuesto,
En vaso de vidro despues de ser puesto.
Otra materia en esto non vale.

This extract may also serve as an example of the rhythmical facility displayed in the verses of Alphonso.

[32] Histoire générale des Troubadours, tom. ii. pag. 255, tom. iii. pag. 329, &c.

[33] Sarmiento refers the oldest Castilian romances to the thirteenth century, but only hypothetically, and with the explicit declaration, that certainly none were to be found in the form in which they then existed. Respecting the _Nicolas_ and the _Antonio de los Romances_, see the notes of Dieze on Velasquez, p. 146.

[34] See the _Bibliotheca Hispana Vetus_ of Nicolas Antonio, under the head of Alphonso XI. and Sarmiento, p. 305.

[35] A sensible and well digested biography of this prince, by Gonzalo de Argote y Molina, a writer of the sixteenth century, is prefixed to _El Conde Lucanor_, the first edition of which Argote superintended. The work is not easily procured even in Spain. _No es de los mas communes_, says Sarmiento. In the library of the university of Göttingen there is a copy of the edition: Madrid, 1642, 4to.

[36]

Si algun bien fizieres, que chico assaz fuere,
Fazlo granado; que el bien nunca muere.

[37]

Quien te conseja encobrir de tus amigos,
Engañar te quiere assaz, y sin testigos.

[38]

No aventures mucho tu riqueza
Por consejo de ome que ha pobreza.

[39]

Quien bien see, non se lieve.

[40]

Quien te alabare con lo que non has en ti,
Sabe, que quiere relever lo que has de ti.

[41] As this work is as scarce as it is curious, to extract the whole of the first tale will perhaps be agreeable to the reader. Fablava un dia el Conde Lucanor con Patronio su Consejero, en esta manera. Patronio, vos sabedes que yo soy muy caçador, y he fecho muchas caças nuevas, que nunca fizo otro ome, y aun he fecho y añadido en los capillos y en las piguelas algunas cosas muy aprovechosas, que nunca fueron fechas, y aora los que quieren dezir mal de mi fablan en escarnio en alguna manera, y quando loan al Cid Ruydias, o al Conde Ferrand Gonzalez, de quantas lides que fizieron, o al santo y bienaventurado Rey don Ferrando, quantas buenas conquistas fizo, loan a mi, diziendo que fiz muy buen fecho, porque añadi aquello en los capillos y en las piguelas. Y porque yo entiendo, que este alabamiento mas se me torna en denuesto, que en alabamiento, ruego vos que me a consejedes en que manera faré, porque no me escarnezcan por la buena obra que fiz. Señor Conde, dixo Patronio, para que vos sepades lo que vos cumple de fazer en esto, plazeme ya que sopiessedes lo que contescio a un moro, que fue Rey de Cordova. El Conde la preguntó como fuera aquello; Patronio le dixo assi.

Huvo en Cordova un Rey Moro, que huvo nombre Alhaquime, y como quier que mantenia bien assaz su Reyno, no se trabajó de fazer otra cosa honrada, nin de gran fama, de las que suelen y deven fazer los Reyes. Ca non tan solamente son los Reyes tenudos de guardar sus Reynos, mas los que buenos quieren ser, conviene que tales obras fagan, porque con derecho acrecienten sus Reynos, y fagan en guisa, que en su vida sean muy mas loados de las gentes, y despues de su muerte finqueen buenas fazañas de las obras que ellos ovieren fecho. E este Rey non se trabajava de esto, si non de comer, y de folgar, y de estar en su casa vicioso; y acaescio, que estando un dia que tañian ante el un estormento de que se pagavan mucho los moros, que há nombre Albogon, e el Rey paró mientes, y entendio que non fazia tan buen son como era menester, y tomó el Albogon, y añadio en el un forado a la parte de yuso, en derecho de los otros forados, y dende en adelante fazia el Albogon muy mejor son que fasta entonces fazia. E comoquiera que aquello era bien fecho para en aquella cosa, pero que non era tan gran fecho como convenia de fazer al Rey. E las gentes en manera de escarnio començaron a loar aquel fecho, y dezian quando llamavan a alguno en Arabigo, _Vahedezut Alhaquime_, que quiere dezir: este es el añadimiento del Rey Alhaquime. Esta palabra fue sonada tanto por la tierra, fasta que lo ovo de oir el Rey, y preguntó, porque dezian las gentes aqueste palabra. E conaquier que ge lo quisieran negar y encubrir, tanto los afincó, que ge lo ovieron a dezir. E desque esto oyó tomó ende gran peçar, pero como era muy buen Rey, non quiso fazer mal a los que dezian aquesta palabra, mas puso en su coraçon de facer otro añadimiento, de que por fuerza oviessen las gentes a loar el su fecho. E entonce porque la su mezquita de Cordova non era acabada, añadio en ella aquel Rey toda la labor que hi menguava, y acabóla. Y esto fue la mejor, y mas complida, y mas noble mesquita que los moros avian en España. E loado Dios es aora Iglesia, y llamanla Santa Maria de Cordova, y ofresciola el santo Rey don Fernando a Santa Maria quando ganó a Cordova de los Moros. E desque aquel Rey ovo acabado la mesquita, y fecho aquel tan buen añadimiento, dixo, que pues fasta entonces lo avian a escarnio, retrayendole del añadimiento que fiziera en el Albogon, que tenia que de alli adelante le avrian a loar con razon del añadimiento que fiziera en la mezquita de Cordova, y fue despues muy loado: y el loamiento que fasta entonces le fazian escarnesciendole, fincò despues por loa, y oy dia dizen los Moros quando quieren loar algun buen hecho:--Este es el añadimiento del Rey Alhaquime. E vos, Señor Conde, si tomades pesar, o cuidades que vos loan por escarnescer del añadimiento, que fezistes en los capillos, y en las piguelas, y en las otras cosas de caça que vos fezistes, guisad de fazer algunos fechos granados e nobles que les pertenesce de facer a los grandes omes. E por fuerça las gentes avran de loar los vuestros buenos fechos, assi como loan aora por escarnio en el añadimiento que fezistes de la caça. E el Conde tovo este por buen consejo y fizolo assí, e fallose dello muy bien. E porque don Juan entendio que esta era buen exemplo, fizolo escrivir en este libro, y fizo estos versos, que dizen assi:

Si algun bien fizieres, que chico asaz fuere,
Fazlo granado, que el bien nunca muere.

[42] Thus in the first stories the old word _ome_ stands for _hombre_; but in those towards the end of the collection it is changed to _hombre_.

[43] Argote y Molina enumerates the prose works of this prince in the before-mentioned biography. He notices the poems in an appendix to his edition of _El Conde Lucanor_, entitled _Discurso sobre la poesia Española_. Though the appendix occupies only a few pages, it contains many interesting observations.

[44] The following romance, which is inserted without interpunctuation, as it appears in the original, may serve for a specimen of those to which the name of Don Juan Manuel is attached. It is certainly not the worst of its kind; and must have found its way by some lucky accident into the _Cancionero general_, which contains scarcely any narrative romances. It is also found in another _Cancionero de Romances_, under the title of _Romance de Don Juan Manuel_.

Gritando va el cavallero
publicando su gran mal
vestidas ropas de luto
aforrados en sayal
por los montes sin camino
con dolor y sospirar
llorando a pie descalço
jurando de no tornar
adonde viesse mugeres
por nunca se consolar
con otro nuevo cuydado
que le hiziesse olividar
la memoria de sua amiga
que murio sin la gozar
va buscar las tierras solas
para en ellas habitar
en una montaña espesa
no cercana de lugar
hizo casa de tristura
qu’es dolor de la nombrar
d’una madera amarilla
que llaman desesperar
paredes de canto negro
y tambien negra la cal
las tejas puso leonadas
sobre tablas de besar
el suelo hizo de plomo
porque es pardillo metal
las puertas chapadas dello
por su trabajo mostrar
y sembro por cima el suelo
secas hojas deparral
cado no se esperan bienes
esperança no ha destar
en aquesta casa escura
que hizo para penar
haze mas estrecha vida
que los frayles del paular
que duermen sobre sarmientos
y aquellos son su maniar
lo que llora es lo que beve
aquello torna a llorar
no mas d’una vez al dia
por mas se debilitar
del color de la madera
mando una pared pintar
un dosel de blanca seda
en ella mando parar
y de muy blanco alabastro
hizo labrar un altar
con canfora betumado
de raso blanco el frontal
puso el bulto de su amiga
en el para le adorar
el cuerpo de plata fina
el rostro era de cristal
un brial vestido blanco
de damasco singular
mongil de blanco brocado
forrado en blanco cendal
sembrado de lunas llenas
señal de casta final
en la cabeça le puso
una corona real
guarnecida de castañas
cogidas del castañal
lo que dize la castaña
es cosa muy de notar
las cinco letras primeras
el nombre de la sin par
murio de veynte y dos años
por mas lastima dexar
la su gentil hermosura
quien quel sepa loar
qu’es mayor que la tristura
del que la mando pintar
en lo qu’ el passa su vida
es en la siempre mirar
cerro la puerta al plazer
abrio la puerta al pesar
abrio la para quedarse
pero no para tornar.

All the songs attributed to Don Juan Manuel in the _Cancionera_ have a form and structure, which render it probable that they belong to the age in which _El Conde Lucanor_ was written; one, for example, begins thus:

Quien por bien servir alcanza
Vivir triste y desamado,
Este tal
Deve tener confianza,
Que le traera este cuydado
A mayor mal.

Another which belongs to the class, called _Villancios_ possesses more poetical merit. It commences thus:--

Muerto es ya, muerto, Señora,
El triste que en ley de Amor
Era vuestro servitor.
La muerte pudo matalle,
Pues le distes ocasion,
Pero no pudo quitalle
De teneros aficion.
O pena sin redemcion,
Que pena el triste amador
En los infiernos de Amor.

[45] Sarmiento only briefly notices this arch-priest, and Nicolas Antonio has entirely overlooked him. But Velasquez pays particular attention to him, and gives a long extract from his work.

[46] As a specimen by which justice will be done the author, it is sufficient to quote the following passage, which is printed by Velasquez. Don Amor says:--

Entrada de quaresma viume para Toledo;
Cuidé estar vicioso, plasentero e ledo.
Fallé y gran santiadad, e fisome estar quedo.
Pocos me recibieron, niu me ficieron del dedo.
Estaba en un palacio pintado de Almagra.
Vino a me mucho Dueña de mucho aguno magra
Con muchos paternostres e con oracion agra, &c.

[47] The celebrated letter of the Marquis de Santillana, which must be more particularly noticed hereafter, contributes its part in illustrating the history of this period. Much however is not to be learned from the letter itself. The commentary on it by Sanchez, in the first volume of the before-mentioned _Coleccion_, is far more instructive.

[48] Whoever wishes to become acquainted with the controversies on the early literature of knight-errantry, should resort to Nicolas Antonio, and compare what he says with Eichhorn’s learned view of the subject, including the necessary references, in his Allg. Gesch. der Cult. u. Litt. Theil I. p. 136, &c. Nunez de Liaõ, in his _Origem de Lingoa Portugueza_, also mentions Lobeira as the author of _Amadis de Gaul_.

[49] The merit of the Amadis was not overlooked by Cervantes. In the judgment passed on Don Quixote’s library, the Curate wishes to condemn this work first of all to the flames, because, being the parent of all the books of knight-errantry in Spain, it was therefore the great cause of Don Quixote’s malady; but the Barber, or rather Cervantes, speaking in that character, says, “No, friend; for I have heard it remarked that the Amadis is the _best book_ of the kind ever written; it ought therefore to be spared as a _peculiar specimen_ of art.” Whoever may be desirous of making the Amadis re-appear in a state capable of being relished in the present times, must, above all things, take care to preserve the ingenuous simplicity of the stile, or the work will be wholly disfigured.

[50] The titles of all the collections of romances need not be given here. A considerable part of them may be found in Velasquez, with additions by Dieze, (p. 442, &c.) and Blankenburg’s Zusätzen zu Sulzer’s Wörterbuche. I have before me several collections, which contain some of the oldest romances I am acquainted with. The best of these collections is entitled: _Cancionero de Romances, en que estan recopilados la mayor parte de los Romances Castellanos, que hasta agora se han compuesto._ Nuevamento corregido _y añadido en muchos partes. Anvers_ 1555, 8vo. In the well known _Romancero general_ none of the pieces which derive their materials from knight-errantry romances are to be found.

[51] The following romance, derived from that work, gives an artless description of the sufferings of Amadis on the barren rock.

En la selva esta Amadis
el _leal enamorado_
tal vida estava haziendo
qual nunca hizo Christiano
cilicio trae vestido
a sus carnes apretado
con diciplinas destruye
su cuerpo muy delicado
llagado de las heridas
y en su señora pensando
no ce canoce en su gesto
segun lo trae delgado
de ayunos y d’abstinencias
andava debilitado
la barva trae crecida
deste mundo se ha apartado
las rodillas tiene en tierra
y en su coraçon echado
con gran humildad os pide
perdon si avia errado
al alto dios poderoso
por testigo ha publicado
y acordado se le avia
del amor suyo passado
que assi le derribo
de su sentido y estado
con estas grandes passiones
amortecido ha quedado
el mas leal amador
que en el mundo fue hallado.

[52] According to Sarmiento (p. 228,) it is usual to say, _Este no vale las coplas de Calainos_. But it is not therefore to be inferred, that the ancient romance of that name is the worst of the kind.

[53] It will be sufficient to cite, in support of this opinion, the romance of the _Conde Alarcos_, which is, besides, distinguished from most of the other romances by greater richness of composition. It opens in a very simple manner with a description of the sorrow of the Infante Solesa, who, after being secretly betrothed to Count Alarcos, has been abandoned by him.

Retraida està la Infanta
Bien assi como salia,
Viviendo muy descontenta
De la vida que tenia,
Vienda ya que se pasava
Toda la flor de su vida.

The fair Infanta midst the court
A look of sorrow wears,
Told by an aching heart how she
Is doom’d to pass her years;
For far from her is ever flown
The early bloom of life----

At length, after Count Alarcos has been long married, the forsaken princess discloses her seduction to her father. This scene is strongly painted, but not overcharged: the king is transported by rage and indignation; his honour appears to him so wounded, that nothing but the death of the Countess can be a sufficient satisfaction. He has an interview with the Count, addresses him courteously, represents the case to him with chivalrous dignity as a point of justice and honour, and concludes by categorically demanding the death of his lady. Thus the developement of the story commences in a manner, which, though most singular, is perhaps not unnatural, when the ideas of the age to which the composition belongs are considered. The Count conceives himself bound as a man of honour to give the king the satisfaction he desires. He promises to comply with his demand, and proceeds on his way home. There is a touching simplicity in the picture which is here drawn.

Llorando se parte el Conde,
Llorando, sin alegria,
Llorando a la Condessa,
Que mas que a sì la queria.
Lloraba tambien el Conde
Por tres hijos que tenia,
El una era de teta,
Que la Condessa lo cria,
Que no queria mamar
De tres amas, que tenia,
Sino era de su madre.

Weeping he homeward wends his way,
His grief nought can remove,
Because his tears are shed for her
He more than life doth love.
He weepeth too for his three sons,
In youth and beauty dear;
The youngest boy a suckling still,
The Countess’ self doth rear.
For, save his mother, none he lov’d,
Though he had nurses three,
Nor by the milk of other breasts
Would alimented be.

The pathetic interest now rises gradually to the highest pitch of tragic horror. The Countess, who receives her husband with the wonted marks of affection, in vain enquires the cause of his melancholy. He sits down to supper with his family, and again we have a situation painted with genuine feeling, though with little art.

Sentose el Conde a la mesa,
No cenava, ni podia,
Con sus hijos al costado,
Que muy mucho los queria.
Echo se sobre los hombros,
Hizo, como se dormia,
De lagrimas de sus ojos
Toda la mesa cubria.

The board is laid, he takes his place,
Where viands tempt in vain,
For near him his lov’d children are,
Now lov’d, alas! with pain.
In seeming sleep with head reclin’d,
He tries to hide his woe;
But from his eyes the big tears roll,
And o’er the table flow.

The apparent fatigue of the Count induces the Countess to accompany him to his apartment. When they enter, the Count fastens the door, relates what has passed, and desires his lady to prepare for death.

De morir aveis, Condessa,
Antes que amenesca el dia.

O Countess, thou art doom’d to die,
Before the morning’s dawn.

She begs him to spare her only for her children’s sake. The Count desires her to embrace for the last time the youngest, whom she has brought with her into the room asleep in her arms.

Abrazad este chiquito,
Que aquesto es el que os perdia.
Peso me de vos, Condessa,
Quanta pesar me podia.

Give to that babe one parting kiss,
That babe for whom thou’rt lost;
Beshrew me--but I pity thee--
I who need pity most.

She submits to her hard fate, and only asks for time to say an _ave maria_. The Count desires her to be quick. She falls on her knees, and pours forth a brief but fervent prayer; she then requests a few moments more delay, that she may once more give suck to her infant son. What modern poet would have thought of introducing so exquisite a touch of nature? The Count forbids her to wake the child. The unfortunate lady forgives her husband, but predicts that, within thirty days, the king and his daughter will be summoned before the tribunal of the Almighty. The Count strangles her.

Echole por la garganta
Una toca que tenia,
Apreto con los dos manos,
Con la fuerza que podia.
No le afloxo la garganta,
Mentre que vida tenia.

In the conclusion, the fulfilment of the unfortunate Countess’s prophecy is briefly related. On the twelfth day the princess died, on the twentieth the king, and on the thirtieth the Count himself expired.

[54] Those in the _Cancionero de Romances_ are of this kind. (See the remark, p. 35.)

[55] Sarmiento counted one hundred and two romances relative to the Cid, in one collection. Only some of them are inserted in the _Romancero general_, interspersed among others.

[56] In the following romance, for instance, the assonance is very skilfully managed.

Fizo hazer al Rey Alfonso
el Cid un solene juro,
delante de muchos Grandes,
que se hallaron en Burgos.
Mandò que con el viniessen
doze cavalleros juntos,
para que con el jurassen,
cada qual uno por uno.
Por la muerte de su Rey,
que le mataron seguro,
en el cerco de Zamora,
a traycion junto del muro.
Y quando en el templo santo
estuvieron todos juntos
levantose de su escaño,
y el Cid aquesto propuso.
Por aquesta santa casa
donde estamos en de ayuso,
que fabledes la verdad,
de aquesto que aqui os pregunto.
Si fuystes vos Rey la causa,
o de los vuestros alguno,
en la muerte de don Sancho
tengays la muerto que tuvo!
Todos responden Amen,
mas el Rey quedò confuso,
pero por cumplir el voto,
respondio, la mismo juro.
Y con la rodilla en tierra
por fazer su cortes uso,
el Cid delante del Rey,
assi le fablò sañudo.
Si ayer no os besa la mano,
sabed Rey que non me plugo,
y si aora os la besare
será de mí grado, y gusto.
Aquesto que aqui he fablado
no ha fecho agravio a ninguno,
porque lo devo a don Sancho
como buen vassallo suyo.
Pero sino lo fiziera
que dara yo por injusto,
y no por buen cavallero,
me tuvieran en el mundo.
Y si ha parecido mal
a los de vuesso consulto,
en el campo los aguardo,
con mi espada, y lança en puño.

[57] Of this kind is the following romance, in which the Cid takes leave of Ximena. It is obviously one of the more modern.

Al arma, al arma sonavan
los pifaros y atambores,
guerra, fuego, sangre dizen
sus espantosos clamores:
el Cid apresta su gente,
todos se ponen en orden
quando llorosa y humilde,
le dize Ximena Gomez:
Rey de mi alma, y desta tierra Conde,
porque me dexas? donde vas, a donde?

Que sì eres marte en la guerra,
eres Apolo en la Corte,
donde matas bellas damas,
como alla Moros feroces.
Ante tus ojos se postran,
y de rodillas se ponen
los Reyes Moros, y hijas,
de Reyes Christianos nobles,
Rey de mi alma, &c.

Ya truecan todos los guerras,
por luzidos morriones,
por arneses de Milan,
los blandos pechos de Londres,
las calças por duras grevas,
por mallas guantas de flores:
mas nos otros trocaremos
las almas y coraçones.
Rey de mi alma, &c.

Viendo las duras querellas,
de su querida consorte,
no puede sufrir el Cid,
que no la consuele y llore.
Enxugad señora, dize,
los ojos hasta que torne:
ella mirando los suyos,
supena publica a vozes.
Rey de mi alma, &c.

[58] A zealous orthodox author speaks with much warmth on this subject in a romance which commences, “Tanta Zayda, y Adalifa.” Among other things he says:

Renegaron a su ley
Los romancistes de España,
Y ofrecieron a Mahoma
Los primicios de sus gracias.

[59]

Cabelleros Granadinos,
Aunque moros, hijos d’álgo.

[60]

Las huestes de don Rodrigo
desmayavan y huyan,
quando en la octava batalla
sus enemigos vencian,
Rodrigo dexa sus tierras
y del real se salia,
solo va el desventurado
que non lleva compañia
el cavallo de cansado
ya mudar no se podia,
camina por donde quiere
que no le estorva la via
el rey va tan desmayado
que sentido no tenía,
muerto va de sed y hambre
que de vella era manzilla
yva tan tinto de sangre
que una brasa parecia
las armas lleva abolladas
que eran de gran pedreria,
la espada lleva hecha sierra
de los golpos que tenia.
el almete de abollado
en la cabeça se hundia
la cara llevava hinchada
del trabajo que sufria,
subiose encima de un cerro
al mas alto que veya,
dende alli mira su gente
como yva de vencida
d’alli mira sus vanderas
y estandartes que tenia,
como estan todos pisados
que la tierra los cubria,
mira por los capitanes
que ninguno parescia,
mira el campo tinto en sangre
la qual arroyos corria
el triste de ver aquesto
gran manzilla en si tenia
llorando de los sus ojos
desta manera dezia,
Ayer era Rey d’España
oy no lo soy de una villa,
ayer villas y castillos
oy ninguno posseya,
ayer tenia criados
y gente que me servia
oy no tengo una almena
que pueda dezir que es mia,
desdichada fue la hora
desdichado fue aquel dia
en que naci y herede
la tan grande señoria
pues lo avia de perder
todo junto y en un dia
o muerte porque no vienes
y llevas esta alma mia
de aqueste cuerpo mezquino
pues se te agradeceria?

[61] This is one of the best pieces of the kind.