Chapter VII

THEATRE.--INFLUENCE OF THE CHURCH AND THE INQUISITION.--MYSTERIES.--CASTILLEJO, OLIVA, JUAN DE PARIS, AND OTHERS.--POPULAR DEMANDS FOR DRAMATIC LITERATURE.--LOPE DE RUEDA.--HIS LIFE, COMEDIAS, COLOQUIOS, PASOS, AND DIALOGUES IN VERSE.--HIS CHARACTER AS FOUNDER OF THE POPULAR DRAMA IN SPAIN.--JUAN DE TIMONEDA.

The theatre in Spain, as in most other countries of modern Europe, was early called to contend with formidable difficulties. Dramatic representations there, perhaps more than elsewhere, had been for centuries in the hands of the Church; and the Church was not willing to give them up, especially for such secular and irreligious purposes as we have seen were apparent in the plays of Naharro. The Inquisition, therefore, already arrogating to itself powers not granted by the state, but yielded by a sort of general consent, interfered betimes. After the publication of the Seville edition of the “Propaladia” in 1520,--but how soon afterward we do not know,--the representation of its dramas was forbidden, and the interdict was continued till 1573.[1] Of the few pieces written in the early part of the reign of Charles the Fifth, nearly all, except those on strictly religious subjects, were laid under the ban of the Church; several, like the “Orfea,” 1534, and the “Custodia,” 1541, being now known to have existed only because their names appear in the Index Expurgatorius;[2] and others, like the “Amadis de Gaula” of Gil Vicente, though printed and published, being subsequently forbidden to be represented.[3]

[1] In the edition of Madrid, 1573, 18mo, we are told, “La
Propaladia estava prohibida en estos reynos, años avia”; and
Martinez de la Rosa (Obras, Paris, 1827, 12mo, Tom. II. p.
382) says that this prohibition was laid soon after 1520, and
not removed till August, 1573. The period is important; but I
suspect the authority of Martinez de la Rosa for its termination
is merely the permission to print an edition, which is dated 21
Aug., 1573; an edition, too, which is, after all, expurgated
severely.

[2] These are in the “Catálogo” of L. F. Moratin, Nos. 57 and 63,
Obras, Madrid, 1830, 8vo, Tom. I. Parte I.

[3] The fate of this long heroic and romantic drama of Gil
Vicente, in Spanish, is somewhat singular. It was forbidden by
the Inquisition, we are told, as early as the Index Expurgatorius
of 1549 [1559?]; but it was not printed at all till 1562, and
not separately till 1586. By the Index of Lisbon, 1624, it is
permitted, if expurgated, and there is an edition of it of that
year at Lisbon. As it was never printed in Spain, the prohibition
there must have related chiefly to its representation. Barbosa,
Bib. Lusitana, Tom. II. p. 384.

The old religious drama, meantime, was still upheld by ecclesiastical power. Of this we have sufficient proof in the titles of the Mysteries that were from time to time performed, and in the well-known fact, that, when, with all the magnificence of the court of Charles the Fifth, the infant heir to the crown, afterwards Philip the Second, was baptized at Valladolid, in 1527, five religious plays, one of which was on the Baptism of Saint John, constituted a part of the gorgeous ceremony.[4] Such compositions, however, did not advance the drama; though perhaps some of them, like that of Pedro de Altamira, on the Supper at Emmaus, are not without poetical merit.[5] On the contrary, their tendency must have been to keep back theatrical representations within their old religious purposes and limits.[6]

[4] The account of this ceremony, and the facts concerning the
dramas in question, are given by Sandoval, “Historia de Carlos
V.,” (Anvers, 1681, fol. Tom. I. p. 619, Lib. XVI., § 13), and
are of some consequence in the history of the Spanish drama.

[5] It was printed in 1523, and a sufficient extract from it is
to be found in Moratin, Catálogo, No. 36.

[6] A specimen of the Mysteries of the age of Charles V. may be
found in an extremely rare volume, entitled, in its three parts,
“Triaca del Alma,” “Triaca de Amor,” and “Triaca de Tristes”;--or
Medley for the Soul, for Love, and for Sadness. Its author was
Marcelo de Lebrixa, son of the famous scholar Antonio; and the
dedication and conclusion of the first part imply that it was
composed when the author was forty years old,--after the death
of his father, which happened in 1522, and during the reign of
the Emperor, which ended in 1556. The first part, to which I
particularly allude, consists of a Mystery on the Incarnation, in
above eight thousand short verses. It has no other action than
such as consists in the appearance of the angel Gabriel to the
Madonna, bringing Reason with him in the shape of a woman, and
followed by another angel, who leads in the Seven Virtues;--the
whole piece being made up out of their successive discourses and
exhortations, and ending with a sort of summary, by Reason and
by the author, in favor of a pious life. Certainly, so slight
a structure, with little merit in its verses, could do nothing
to advance the drama of the sixteenth century. It was, however,
intended for representation. “It was written,” says its author,
“for the praise and solemnization of the Festival of Our Lady’s
Incarnation; so that it may be acted as a play [la puedan por
farça representar] by devout nuns in their convents, since no
men appear in it, but only angels and young damsels.”

The second part of this singular volume, which is more poetical
than the first, is against human, and in favor of Divine love;
and the third, which is very long, consists of a series of
consolations deemed suitable for the different forms of human
sorrow and care;--these two parts being necessarily didactic in
their character. Each of the three is addressed to a member of
the great family of Alva, to which their author seems to have
been attached; and the whole is called by him _Triaca_; a word
which means _Treacle_, or _Antidote_, but which Lebrixa says
he uses in the sense of _Ensalada_,--_Salad_ or _Medley_. The
volume, taken as a whole, is as strongly marked with the spirit
of the age that produced it as the contemporary Cancioneros
Generales, and its poetical merit is much like theirs.

Nor were the efforts made to advance them in other directions marked by good judgment or permanent success. We pass over the “Costanza” by Castillejo, which seems to have been in the manner of Naharro, and is assigned to the year 1522,[7] but which, from its indecency, was never published, and is now probably lost; and we pass over the free versions, made about 1530, by Perez de Oliva, Rector of the University of Salamanca, from the “Amphitryon” of Plautus, the “Electra” of Sophocles, and the “Hecuba” of Euripides, because they fell, for the time, powerless on the early attempts of the national theatre, which had nothing in common with the spirit of antiquity.[8] But a single play, printed in 1536, should be noticed, as showing how slowly the drama made progress in Spain.

[7] Moratin, Catálogo, No. 35, and _ante_, Vol. I. p. 503.

[8] Oliva died in 1533; but his translations were not printed
till 1585.

It is called “An Eclogue,” and is written by Juan de Paris, in _versos de arte mayor_, or long verses divided into stanzas of eight lines each, which show, in their careful construction, not a little labor and art.[9] It has five interlocutors: an esquire, a hermit, a young damsel, a demon, and two shepherds. The hermit enters first. He seems to be in a meadow, musing on the vanity of human life; and, after praying devoutly, determines to go and visit another hermit. But he is prevented by the esquire, who comes in weeping and complaining of ill treatment from Cupid, whose cruel character he illustrates by his conduct in the cases of Medea, the fall of Troy, Priam, David, and Hercules; ending with his own determination to abandon the world and live in a “nook merely monastical.” He accosts the hermit, who discourses to him on the follies of love, and advises him to take religion and works of devotion for a remedy in his sorrows. The young man determines to follow counsel so wise, and they enter the hermitage together. But they are no sooner gone than the demon appears, complaining bitterly that the esquire is likely to escape him, and determining to do all in his power to prevent it. One of the shepherds, whose name is Vicente, now comes in, and is much shocked by the glimpse he has caught of the retiring spirit, who, indeed, from his description, and from the wood-cut on the title-page, seems to have been a truly fantastic and hideous personage. Vicente thereupon hides himself; but the damsel, who is the lady-love of the esquire, enters, and, after drawing him from his concealment, holds with him a somewhat metaphysical dialogue about love. The other shepherd, Cremon, at this difficult point interrupts the discussion, and has a rude quarrel with Vicente, which the damsel composes; and then Cremon tells her where the hermit and the lover she has come to seek are to be found. All now go towards the hermitage. The esquire, overjoyed, receives the lady with open arms, and cries out,--

But now I abjure this friardom poor,
And will neither be hermit nor friar any more.[10]

[9] This extremely curious drama, of which I know no copy, except
the one kindly lent to me by M. H. Ternaux-Compans of Paris, is
entitled “Egloga nuevamente composta por Juan de Paris, en la
qual se introducen cinco personas: un Escudero llamado Estacio,
y un Hermitaño, y una Moça, y un Diablo, y dos Pastores, uno
llamado Vicente y el otro Cremon” (1536). It is in black letter,
small quarto, 12 leaves, without name of place or printer; but, I
suppose, printed at Zaragoza, or Medina del Campo.

[10]
Agora reniego de mala fraylia,
Ni quiero hermitaño ni frayle mas ser.

The hermit marries them, and determines to go with them to their house in the town; and then the whole ends somewhat strangely with a _villancico_, which has for its burden,--

Let us fly, I say, from Love’s power away;
’T is a vassalage hard,
Which gives grief for reward.[11]

[11]
Huyamos de ser vasallos
Del Amor,
Pues por premio da dolor.

The piece is curious, because it is a wild mixture of the spirit of the old Mysteries with that of Juan de la Enzina’s Eclogues and the Comedies of Naharro, and shows by what awkward means it was attempted to conciliate the Church, and yet amuse an audience which had little sympathy with monks and hermits. But it has no poetry in it, and very little dramatic movement. Of its manner and measure the opening stanza is quite a fair specimen. The hermit enters, saying to himself,--

The suffering life we mortal men below,
Upon this terrene world, are bound to spend,
If we but carefully regard its end,
We find it very full of grief and woe:
Torments so multiplied, so great, and ever such,
That but to count an endless reckoning brings,
While, like the rose that from the rose-tree springs,
Our life itself fades quickly at their touch.[12]

[12] As another copy of this play can be found, I suppose, only
by some rare accident, I give the original of the passage in the
text, with its original pointing. It is the opening of the first
scene:--

_Hermitaño._

La vida peñosa; que nos los mortales
En aqueste mundo; terreno passamos
Si con buen sentido; la consideramos
Fallar la hemos; lleno de muy duros males
De tantos tormentos; tan grandes y tales
Que aver de contallos; es cuento infinita
Y allende de aquesto; tan presto es marchita
Como la rosa; qu’ esta en los rosales.

“Una Farça a Manera de Tragedia,” in prose and partly pastoral,
was printed at Valencia, anonymously, in 1537, and seems to
have resembled this one in some particulars. It is mentioned in
Aribau, “Biblioteca de Autores Españoles,” 1846, Tom. II. p. 193,
note.

Other attempts followed this, or appeared at just about the same time, which approach nearer to the example set by Naharro. One of them is called “La Vidriana,” by Jaume de Huete, on the loves of a gentleman and lady of Aragon, who desired the author to represent them dramatically;[13] and another, by the same hand, is called “La Tesorina,” and was afterwards forbidden by the Inquisition.[14] This last is a direct imitation of Naharro; has an _intróito_; is divided into five _jornadas_; and is written in short verses. Indeed, at the end, Naharro is mentioned by name, with much implied admiration on the part of the author, who in the title-page announces himself as an Aragonese, but of whom we know nothing else. And, finally, we have a play in five acts, and in the same style, with an _intróito_ at the beginning and a _villancico_ at the end, by Agostin Ortiz,[15] leaving no doubt that the manner and system of Naharro had at last found imitators in Spain, and were fairly recognized there.

[13] “Comedia llamada Vidriana, compuesta por Jaume de Huete
agora nuevamente,” etc., sm. 4to, black letter, 18 leaves,
without year, place, or printer. It has ten interlocutors, and
ends with an apology in Latin, that the author cannot write like
Mena,--Juan de Mena I suppose,--though I know not why he should
have been selected, as the piece is evidently in the manner of
Naharro.

[14] Another drama, from the same volume with the last two.
Moratin (Catálogo, No. 47) had found it noticed in the Index
Expurgatorius of Valladolid, 1559, and assigns it, at a venture,
to the year 1531, but he never saw it. Its title is “Comedia
intitulada Tesorina, la materia de la qual es unos amores de
un penado por una Señora y otras personas adherentes. Hecha
nuevamente por Jaume de Huete. Pero si por ser su natural lengua
Aragonesa, no fuere por muy cendrados terminos, quanto a este
merece perdon.” Small 4to, black letter, 15 leaves, no year,
place, or printer. It has ten interlocutors, and is throughout an
imitation of Naharro, who is mentioned in some mean Latin lines
at the end, where the author expresses the hope that his Muse may
be tolerated, “quamvis non Torris digna Naharro venit.”

[15] “Comedia intitulada Radiana, compuesta por Agostin Ortiz,”
small 4to, black letter, 12 leaves, no year, place, or printer.
It is in five _jornadas_, and has ten personages,--a favorite
number apparently. It comes from the volume above alluded to,
which contains besides:--1. A poor prose story, interspersed with
dialogue, on the tale of Mirrha, taken chiefly from Ovid. It is
called “La _Tragedia_ de Mirrha,” and its author is the Bachiller
Villalon. It was printed at Medina del Campo, 1536, por Pedro
Toraus, small 4to, black letter. 2. An eclogue somewhat in the
manner of Juan de la Enzina, for a _Nacimiento_. It is called a
_Farza_,--“El Farza siguiente hizo Pero Lopez Ranjel,” etc. It
is short, filling only 4 ff., and contains three _villancicos_.
On the title-page is a coarse wood-cut of the manger, with
Bethlehem in the background. 3. A short, dull farce, entitled
“Jacinta”;--not the Jacinta of Naharro. These three, together
with the four previously noticed, are, I believe, known to
exist only in the copy I have used from the library of M. H.
Ternaux-Compans.

But the popular vein had not yet been struck. Except dramatic exhibitions of a religious character, and under ecclesiastical authority, nothing had been attempted in which the people, as such, had any share. The attempt, however, was now made, and made successfully. Its author was a mechanic of Seville, Lope de Rueda, a goldbeater by trade, who, from motives now entirely unknown, became both a dramatic writer and a public actor. The period in which he flourished has been supposed to be between 1544 and 1567, in which year he is spoken of as dead; and the scene of his adventures is believed to have extended to Seville, Córdova, Valencia, Segovia, and probably other places, where his plays and farces could be represented with profit. At Segovia, we know he acted in the new cathedral, during the week of its consecration, in 1558; and Cervantes and the unhappy Antonio Perez both speak with admiration of his powers as an actor; the first having been twenty years old in 1567, the period commonly assumed as that of Rueda’s death,[16] and the last having been eighteen. Rueda’s success, therefore, even during his lifetime, seems to have been remarkable; and when he died, though he belonged to the despised and rejected profession of the stage, he was interred with honor among the mazy pillars in the nave of the great cathedral at Córdova.[17]

[16] It is known that he was certainly dead as early as that
year, because the edition of his “Comedias” then published at
Valencia, by his friend Timoneda, contains, at the end of the
“Engaños,” a sonnet on his death by Francisco Ledesma. The last,
and, indeed, almost the only, date we have about him, is that
of his acting in the cathedral at Segovia in 1558; of which we
have a distinct account in the learned and elaborate History of
Segovia, by Diego de Colmenares, (Segovia, 1627, fol., p. 516),
where he says, that, on a stage erected between the choirs, “Lope
de Rueda, a well-known actor [famoso comediante] of that age
represented an entertaining play [gustosa comedia].”

[17] The well-known passage about Lope de Rueda, in Cervantes’s
Prólogo to his own plays, is of more consequence than all the
rest that remains concerning him. Every thing, however, is
collected in Navarrete, “Vida de Cervantes,” pp. 255-260; and in
Casiano Pellicer, “Orígen de la Comedia y del Histrionismo en
España,” Madrid, 1804, 12mo, Tom. II. pp. 72-84.

His works were collected after his death by his friend Juan de Timoneda, and published in different editions, between 1567 and 1588.[18] They consist of four Comedias, two Pastoral Colloquies, and ten Pasos, or dialogues, all in prose; besides two dialogues in verse. They were all evidently written for representation, and were unquestionably acted before popular audiences, by the strolling company Lope de Rueda led about.

[18] “Las Quatro Comedias y Dos Coloquios Pastorales del
excelente poeta y gracioso representante, Lope de Rueda,” etc.,
impresas en Sevilla, 1576, 8vo,--contains his principal works,
with the “Diálogo sobre la Invencion de las Calzas que se usan
agora.” From the Epistola prefixed to it by Juan de Timoneda, I
infer that he made alterations in the manuscripts, as Lope de
Rueda left them; but not, probably, any of much consequence. Of
the “Deleytoso,” printed at Valencia, 1577, I have never been
able to see more than the very ample extracts given by Moratin,
amounting to six _Pasos_ and a _Coloquio_. The first edition of
the Quatro Comedias, etc., was 1567, at Valencia; the last at
Logroño, 1588.

The four Comedias are merely divided into scenes, and extend to the length of a common farce, whose spirit they generally share. The first of them, “Los Engaños,”--Frauds,--contains the story of a daughter of Verginio, who has escaped from the convent where she was to be educated, and is serving as a page to Marcelo, who had once been her lover, and who had left her because he believed himself to have been ill treated. Clavela, the lady to whom Marcelo now devotes himself, falls in love with the fair page, somewhat as Olivia does in “Twelfth Night,” and this brings in several effective scenes and situations. But a twin brother of the lady-page returns home, after a considerable absence, so like her, that he proves the other Sosia, who, first producing great confusion and trouble, at last marries Clavela, and leaves his sister to her original lover. This is at least a plot; and some of its details and portions of the dialogue are ingenious, and managed with dramatic skill.

The next, the “Medora,” is, also, not without a sense of what belongs to theatrical composition and effect. The interest of the action depends, in a considerable degree, on the confusion produced by the resemblance between a young woman stolen when a child by Gypsies, and the heroine, who is her twin sister. But there are well-drawn characters in it, that stand out in excellent relief, especially two: Gargullo,--the “miles gloriosus,” or Captain Bobadil, of the story,--who, by an admirable touch of nature, is made to boast of his courage when quite alone, as well as when he is in company; and a Gypsy woman, who overreaches and robs him at the very moment he intends to overreach and rob her.[19]

[19] This is the _Rufian_ of the old Spanish dramas and
stories,--parcel _rowdy_, parcel bully, and wholly knave;--a
different personage from the _Rufian_ of recent times, who is the
elder _Alcahuete_ or pander.

The story of the “Eufemia” is not unlike that of the slandered Imogen, and the character of Melchior Ortiz is almost exactly that of the fool in the old English drama,--a well-sustained and amusing mixture of simplicity and shrewdness.

The “Armelina,” which is the fourth and last of the longer pieces of Lope de Rueda, is more bold in its dramatic incidents than either of the others.[20] The heroine, a foundling from Hungary, after a series of strange incidents, is left in a Spanish village, where she is kindly and even delicately brought up by the village blacksmith; while her father, to supply her place, has no less kindly brought up in Hungary a natural son of this same blacksmith, who had been carried there by his unworthy mother. The father of the lady, having some intimation of where his daughter is to be found, comes to the Spanish village, bringing his adopted son with him. There he advises with a Moorish necromancer how he is to proceed in order to regain his lost child. The Moor, by a fearful incantation, invokes Medea, who actually appears on the stage, fresh from the infernal regions, and informs him that his daughter is living in the very village where they all are. Meanwhile the daughter has seen the youth from Hungary, and they are at once in love with each other;--the blacksmith, at the same time, having decided, with the aid of his wife, to compel her to marry a shoemaker, to whom he had before promised her. Here, of course, come troubles and despair. The young lady undertakes to cut them short, at once, by throwing herself into the sea, but is prevented by Neptune, who quietly carries her down to his abodes under the roots of the ocean, and brings her back at the right moment to solve all the difficulties, explain the relationships, and end the whole with a wedding and a dance. This is, no doubt, very wild and extravagant, especially in the part containing the incantation and in the part played by Neptune; but, after all, the dialogue is pleasant and easy, and the style natural and spirited.

[20] It may be worth noticing, that both the “Armelina” and the
“Eufemia” open with scenes of calling up a lazy young man from
bed, in the early morning, much like the first in the “Nubes” of
Aristophanes.

The two Pastoral Colloquies differ from the four Comedias, partly in having even less carefully constructed plots, and partly in affecting, through their more bucolic portions, a stately and pedantic air, which is any thing but agreeable. They belong, however, substantially to the same class of dramas, and received a different name, perhaps, only from the circumstance, that a pastoral tone was always popular in Spanish poetry, and that, from the time of Enzina, it had been considered peculiarly fitted for public exhibition. The comic parts of the colloquies are the only portions of them that have merit; and the following passage from that of “Timbria” is as characteristic of Lope de Rueda’s light and natural manner as any thing, perhaps, that can be selected from what we have of his dramas. It is a discussion between Leno, the shrewd fool of the piece, and Troico,[21] in which Leno ingeniously contrives to get rid of all blame for having eaten up a nice cake which Timbria, the lady in love with Troico, had sent to him by the faithless glutton.

[21] Troico, it should be observed, is a woman in disguise.

_Leno._ Ah, Troico, are you there?

_Troico._ Yes, my good fellow, don’t you see I am?

_Leno._ It would be better if I did not see it.

_Troico._ Why so, Leno?

_Leno._ Why then you would not know a piece of ill-luck that has just happened.

_Troico._ What ill-luck?

_Leno._ What day is it to-day?

_Troico._ Thursday.

_Leno._ Thursday? How soon will Tuesday come, then?

_Troico._ Tuesday is passed two days ago.

_Leno._ Well, that’s something;--but tell me, are there not other days of ill-luck as well as Tuesdays?[22]

[22] This superstition about Tuesday as an unlucky day is not
unfrequent in the old Spanish drama:--

Está escrito,
El Martes es dia aciago.

Lope de Vega, El Cuerdo en su Casa, Acto II. Comedias, Madrid,
1615, 4to, Tom. VI. f. 112. a.

_Troico._ What do you ask that for?

_Leno._ I ask, because there may be unlucky pancakes, if there are unlucky Thursdays.

_Troico._ I suppose so.

_Leno._ Now stop there;--suppose one of yours had been eaten of a Thursday; on whom would the ill-luck have fallen? on the pancake or on you?

_Troico._ No doubt, on me.

_Leno._ Then, my good Troico, comfort yourself, and begin to suffer and be patient; for men, as the saying is, are born to misfortunes, and there are matters, in fine, that come from God; and in the order of time you must die yourself, and, as the saying is, your last hour will then be come and arrived. Take it, then, patiently, and remember that we are here to-morrow and gone to-day.

_Troico._ For heaven’s sake, Leno, is any body in the family dead? Or else why do you console me so?

_Leno._ Would to heaven that were all, Troico!

_Troico._ Then what is it? Can’t you tell me, without so many circumlocutions? What is all this preamble about?

_Leno._ When my poor mother died, he that brought me the news, before he told me of it, dragged me round through more turn-abouts than there are windings in the Pisuerga and Zapardiel.[23]

[23] Rivers in the North of Spain, often mentioned in Spanish
poetry, especially the first of them.

_Troico._ But I have got no mother, and never knew one. I don’t comprehend what you mean.

_Leno._ Then smell of this napkin.

_Troico._ Very well, I have smelt of it.

_Leno._ What does it smell of?

_Troico._ Something like butter.

_Leno._ Then you may truly say, “Here Troy _was_.”

_Troico._ What do you mean, Leno?

_Leno._ For you it was given to me; for you Madam Timbria sent it, all stuck over with nuts;--but as I have (and Heaven and every body else knows it) a sort of natural relationship to whatever is good, my eyes watched and followed it just as a hawk follows chickens.

_Troico._ Followed whom, villain? Timbria?

_Leno._ Heaven forbid! But how nicely she sent it, all made up with butter and sugar!

_Troico._ And what was that?

_Leno._ The pancake, to be sure,--don’t you understand?

_Troico._ And who sent a pancake to me?

_Leno._ Why, Madam Timbria.

_Troico._ Then what became of it?

_Leno._ It was consumed.

_Troico._ How?

_Leno._ By looking at it.

_Troico._ Who looked at it?

_Leno._ I, by ill-luck.

_Troico._ In what fashion?

_Leno._ Why, I sat down by the way-side.

_Troico._ Well, what next?

_Leno._ I took it in my hand.

_Troico._ And then?

_Leno._ Then I tried how it tasted; and what between taking and leaving all round the edges of it, when I tried to think what had become of it, I found I had no sort of recollection.

_Troico._ The upshot is, that you ate it?

_Leno._ It is not impossible.

_Troico._ In faith, you are a trusty fellow!

_Leno._ Indeed! do you think so? Hereafter, if I bring two, I will eat them both, and so be better yet.

_Troico._ The business goes on well.

_Leno._ And well advised, and at small cost; and to my content. But now, go to; suppose we have a little jest with Timbria.

_Troico._ Of what sort?

_Leno._ Suppose you make her believe you ate the pancake yourself, and, when she thinks it is true, you and I can laugh at the trick till you split your sides. Can you ask for any thing better?

_Troico._ You counsel well.

_Leno._ Well, Heaven bless the men that listen to reason! But tell me, Troico, do you think you can carry out the jest with a grave face?

_Troico._ I? What have I to laugh about?

_Leno._ Why, don’t you think it is a laughing matter to make her believe you ate it, when all the time it was your own good Leno that did it?

_Troico._ Wisely said. But now hold your tongue, and go about your business.[24]

[24] _Len._ Ah, Troico! estás acá?

_Tro._ Sí, hermano: tu no lo ves?

_Len._ Mas valiera que no.

_Tro._ Porque, Leno?

_Len._ Porque no supieras una desgracia, que ha sucedido harto
poco ha.

_Tro._ Y que ha sido la desgracia?

_Len._ Que es hoy?

_Tro._ Jueves.

_Len._ Jueves? Quanto le falta para ser Martes?

_Tro._ Antes le sobran dos dias.

_Len._ Mucho es eso! Mas dime, suele haber dias aziagos así como
los Martes?

_Tro._ Porque lo dices?

_Len._ Pregunto, porque tambien habrá hojaldres desgraciadas,
pues hay Jueves desgraciados.

_Tro._ Creo que sí!

_Len._ Y ven acá: si te la hubiesen comido á ti una en Jueves, en
quien habria caido la desgracia, en la hojaldre ó en ti?

_Tro._ No hay duda sino que en mí.

_Len._ Pues, hermano Troico, aconortaos, y comenzad á sufrir, y
ser paciente, que por los hombres (como dicen) suelen venir las
desgracias, y estas son cosas de Dios en fin, y tambien segun
órden de los dias os podriades vos morir, y (como dicen) ya
seria recomplida y allegada la hora postrimera, rescebildo con
paciencia, y acórdaos que mañana somos y hoy no.

_Tro._ Válame Dios, Leno! Es muerto alguno en casa? O como me
consuelas ansí?

_Len._ Ojalá, Troico!

_Tro._ Pues que fué? No lo dirás sin tantos circunloquios? Para
que es tanto preámbulo?

_Len._ Quando mi madre murió, para decírmelo él que me llevó la
nueva me trajó mas rodeos que tiene bueltas Pisuerga ó Zapardiel.

_Tro._ Pues yo no tengo madre, ni la conoscí, ni te entiendo.

_Len._ Huele ese pañizuelo.

_Tro._ Y bien? Ya está olido.

_Len._ A que huele?

_Tro._ A cosa de manteca.

_Len._ Pues bien puedes decir, aquí hué Troya.

_Tro._ Como, Leno?

_Len._ Para ti me la habian dado, para ti la embiaba rebestida
de piñones la Señora Timbria; pero como yo soy (y lo sabe Dios
y todo el mundo) allegado á lo bueno, en viéndola así, se me
vinieron los ojos tras ella como milano tras de pollera.

_Tro._ Tras quien, traidor? tras Timbria?

_Len._ Que no, válame Dios! Que empapada la embiaba de manteca y
azúcar!

_Tro._ La que?

_Len._ La hojaldre: no lo entiendes?

_Tro._ Y quien me la embiaba?

_Len._ La Señora Timbria.

_Tro._ Pues que la heciste?

_Len._ Consumióse.

_Tro._ De que?

_Len._ De ojo.

_Tro._ Quien la ojeó?

_Len._ Yo, mal punto!

_Tro._ De que manera?

_Len._ Asentéme en el camino.

_Tro._ Y que mas?

_Len._ Toméla en la mano.

_Tro._ Y luego?

_Len._ Prové á que sabia, y como por una vanda y por otra estaba
de dar y tomar, quando por ella acordé, ya no habia memoria.

_Tro._ En fin, te la comiste?

_Len._ Podria ser.

_Tro._ Por cierto, que eres hombre de buen recado.

_Len._ A fe? que te parezco? De aquí adelante si trugere dos, me
las comeré juntas, para hacello mejor.

_Tro._ Bueno va el negocio.

_Len._ Y bien regido, y con poca costa, y á mi contento. Mas ven
acá, si quies que riamos un rato con Timbria?

_Tro._ De que suerte?

_Len._ Puedes le hacer en creyente, que la comiste tu, y como
ella piense que es verdad, podremos despues tu y yo reir acá de
la burla; que rebentarás riyendo! Que mas quies?

_Tro._ Bien me aconsejas.

_Len._ Agora bien; Dios bendiga los hombres acogidos á razon!
Pero dime, Troico, sabrás disimular con ella sin reirte?

_Tro._ Yo? de que me habia de reir?

_Len._ No te paresce, que es manera de reir, hacelle en creyente,
que tu te la comiste, habiéndosela comido tu amigo Leno?

_Tro._ Dices sabiamente; mas calla, vete en buen hora.

Las Quatro Comedias, etc., de Lope de Rueda, Sevilla, 1576, 8vo.

The ten Pasos are much like this dialogue,--short and lively, without plot or results, and merely intended to amuse an idle audience for a few moments. Two of them are on glutton tricks, like that practised by Leno; others are between thieves and cowards; and all are drawn from common life, and written with spirit. It is very possible that some of them were taken out of larger and more formal dramatic compositions, which it was not thought worth while to print entire.[25]

[25] This I infer from the fact, that, at the end of the edition
of the Comedias and Coloquios, 1576, there is a “Tabla de los
pasos graciosos que se pueden sacar de las presentes Comedias
y Coloquios y poner en otras obras.” Indeed, _paso_ meant _a
passage_. Pasos were, however, undoubtedly sometimes written as
separate works by Lope de Rueda, and were not called _entremeses_
till Timoneda gave them the name. Still, they may have been
earlier used as such, or as introductions to the longer dramas.

The two dialogues in verse are curious, as the only specimens of Lope de Rueda’s poetry that are now extant, except some songs and a fragment preserved by Cervantes.[26] One is called “Proofs of Love,” and is a sort of pastoral discussion between two shepherds, on the question, which was most favored, the one who had received a finger-ring as a present, or the one who had received an ear-ring. It is written in easy and flowing _quintillas_, and is not longer than one of the slight dialogues in prose. The other is called “A Dialogue on the Breeches now in Fashion,” and is in the same easy measure, but has more of its author’s peculiar spirit and manner. It is between two lackeys, and begins thus abruptly:--

[26] There is a _Glosa_ printed at the end of the Comedias; but
it is not of much value. The passage preserved by Cervantes is in
his “Baños de Argel,” near the end.

_Peralta._ Master Fuentes, what’s the change, I pray,
I notice in your hosiery and shape?
You seem so very swollen as you walk.

_Fuentes._ Sir, ’t is the breeches fashion now prescribes.

_Peralta._ I thought it was an under-petticoat!

_Fuentes._ I’m not ashamed of what I have put on.
Why must I wear my breeches made like yours?
Good friend, your own are wholly out of vogue.

_Peralta._ But what are yours so lined and stuffed withal,
That thus they seem so very smooth and tight?

_Fuentes._ Of that we’ll say but little. An old mantle,
And a cloak still older and more spoiled,
Do vainly struggle from my hose t’ escape.

_Peralta._ To my mind, they were used to better ends,
If sewed up for a horse’s blanket, Sir.

_Fuentes._ But others stuff in plenty of clean straw
And rushes to make out a shapely form----

_Peralta._ Proving that they are more or less akin
To beasts of burden.

_Fuentes._ But they wear, at least,
Such gallant hosiery, that things of taste
May well be added to fit out their dress.

_Peralta._ No doubt, the man that dresses thus in straw
May tastefully put on a saddle too.[27]

[27]
_Per._ Señor Fuentes, que mudanza
Habeis hecho en el calzado,
Con que andais tan abultado?

_Fuent._ Señor, calzas á la usanza.

_Per._ Pense qu’ era verdugado.

_Fuent._ Pues yo d’ ellas no me corro.
Que han de ser como las vuesas?
Hermano, ya no usan d’ esas.

_Per._ Mas que les hechais de aforro,
Que aun se paran tan tiesas?

_Fuent._ D’ eso poco: un sayo viejo
Y toda una ruin capa,
Que á esta calza no escapa.

_Per._ Pues, si van á mi consejo,
Hecharan una gualdrapa.

_Fuent._ Y aun otros mandan poner
Copia de paja y esparto,
Porque les abulten harto.

_Per._ Esos deben de tener
De bestias quizá algun quarto.

_Fuent._ Pondrase qualquier alhaja
Por traer calza gallarda.

_Per._ Cierto yo no sé que aguarda
Quien va vestido de paja
De hacerse alguna albarda.

I do not know that this dialogue is printed anywhere but at the
end of the edition of the Comedias, 1576. It refers evidently to
the broad-bottomed stuffed hose, then coming into fashion; such
as the daughter of Sancho, in her vanity, when she heard her
father was governor of Barrataria, wanted to see him wear; and
such as Don Carlos, according to the account of Thuanus, wore,
when he used to hide in their strange recesses the pistols that
alarmed Philip II.;--“caligis, quæ amplissimæ de more gentis in
usu sunt.” They were forbidden by a royal ordinance in 1623. See
D. Quixote, (Parte II. c. 50), with two amusing stories told in
the notes of Pellicer, and Thuani Historiarum, Lib. XLI., at the
beginning.

In all the forms of the drama attempted by Lope de Rueda, the main purpose is evidently to amuse a popular audience. But to do this, his theatrical resources were very small and humble. “In the time of this celebrated Spaniard,” says Cervantes, recalling the gay season of his youth,[28] “the whole apparatus of a manager was contained in a large sack, and consisted of four white shepherd’s jackets, turned up with leather, gilt and stamped; four beards and false sets of hanging locks; and four shepherd’s crooks, more or less. The plays were colloquies, like eclogues, between two or three shepherds and a shepherdess, fitted up and extended with two or three interludes, whose personages were sometimes a negress, sometimes a bully, sometimes a fool, and sometimes a Biscayan;--for all these four parts, and many others, Lope himself performed with the greatest excellence and skill that can be imagined.... The theatre was composed of four benches, arranged in a square, with five or six boards laid across them, that were thus raised about four palms from the ground.... The furniture of the theatre was an old blanket drawn aside by two cords, making what they call a tiring-room, behind which were the musicians, who sang old ballads without a guitar.”

[28] Comedias, Prólogo.

The place where this rude theatre was set up was a public square, and the performances occurred whenever an audience could be collected; apparently both forenoon and afternoon, for, at the end of one of his plays, Lope de Rueda invites his “hearers only to eat their dinner and return to the square,”[29] and witness another.

[29] “Auditores, no hagais sino comer, y dad la vuelta á la
plaza.”

His four longer dramas have some resemblance to portions of the earlier English comedy, which, at precisely the same period, was beginning to show itself in pieces such as “Ralph Royster Doyster,” and “Gammer Gurton’s Needle.” They are divided into what are called scenes,--the shortest of them consisting of six, and the longest of ten; but in these scenes the place sometimes changes, and the persons often,--a circumstance of little consequence, where the whole arrangements implied no real attempt at scenic illusion.[30] Much of the success of all depended on the part played by the fools, or _simples_, who, in most of his dramas, are important personages, almost constantly on the stage;[31] while something is done by mistakes in language, arising from vulgar ignorance or from foreign dialects, like those of negroes and Moors. Each piece opens with a brief explanatory prologue, and ends with a word of jest and apology to the audience. Naturalness of thought, the most easy, idiomatic Castilian turns of expression, a good-humored, free gayety, a strong sense of the ridiculous, and a happy imitation of the manners and tone of common life, are the prominent characteristics of these, as they are of all the rest of his shorter efforts. He was, therefore, on the right road, and was, in consequence, afterwards justly reckoned, both by Cervantes and Lope de Vega, to be the true founder of the popular national theatre.[32]

[30] In the fifth _escena_ of the “Eufemia,” the place changes,
when Valiano comes in. Indeed, it is evident that Lope de Rueda
did not know the meaning of the word _scene_, or did not employ
it aright.

[31] The first traces of these _simples_, who were afterwards
expanded into the _graciosos_, is to be found in the _parvos_ of
Gil Vicente.

[32] Cervantes, in the Prólogo already cited, calls him “_el
gran_ Lope de Rueda,” and, when speaking of the Spanish Comedias,
treats him as “el primero que en España las sacó de mantillas y
las puso en toldo y vistió de gala y apariencia.” This was in
1615; and Cervantes spoke from his own knowledge and memory. In
1620, in the Prólogo to the thirteenth volume of his Comedias,
(Madrid, 4to), Lope de Vega says, “Las comedias no eran mas
antiguas que Rueda, á quien oyeron muchos, que hoy viven.”

The earliest follower of Lope de Rueda was his friend and editor, Juan de Timoneda, a bookseller of Valencia, who certainly flourished during the middle and latter part of the sixteenth century, and probably died in extreme old age, soon after the year 1597.[33] His thirteen or fourteen pieces that were printed pass under various names, and have a considerable variety in their character; the most popular in their tone being the best. Four are called “Pasos,” and four “Farsas,”--all much alike. Two are called “Comedias,” one of which, the “Aurelia,” written in short verses, is divided into five _jornadas_, and has an _intróito_, after the manner of Naharro; while the other, the “Cornelia,” is merely divided into seven scenes, and written in prose, after the manner of Lope de Rueda. Besides these, we have what, in the present sense of the word, is for the first time called an “Entremes”; a Tragicomedia, which is a mixture of mythology and modern history; a religious Auto, on the subject of the Lost Sheep; and a translation, or rather an imitation, of the “Menæchmi” of Plautus. In all of them, however, he seems to have relied for success on a spirited, farcical dialogue, like that of Lope de Rueda; and all were, no doubt, written to be acted in the public squares, to which, more than once, they make allusion.[34]

[33] Ximeno, Escritores de Valencia, Tom. I. p. 72, and Fuster,
Biblioteca Valenciana, Tom. I. p. 161.

[34] In the Prologue to the Cornelia, one of the speakers says
that one of the principal personages of the piece lives in
Valencia, “in this house which you see,” he adds, pointing the
spectators picturesquely, and no doubt with comic effect, to some
house they could all see. A similar jest about another of the
personages is repeated a little farther on.

The “Cornelia,” first printed in 1559, is somewhat confused in its story. We have in it a young lady, taken, when a child, by the Moors, and returned, when grown up, to the neighbourhood of her friends, without knowing who she is; a foolish fellow, deceived by his wife, and yet not without shrewdness enough to make much merriment; and Pasquin, partly a quack doctor, partly a magician, and wholly a rogue; who, with five or six other characters, make rather a superabundance of materials for so short a drama. Some of the dialogues are full of life; and the development of two or three of the characters is good, especially that of Cornalla, the clown; but the most prominent personage, perhaps,--the magician,--is taken, in a considerable degree, from the “Negromante” of Ariosto, which was represented at Ferrara about thirty years earlier, and proves that Timoneda had some scholarship, if not always a ready invention.[35]

[35] “Con privilegio. Comedia llamada Cornelia, nuevamente
compuesta, por Juan de Timoneda. Es muy sentida, graciosa, y
vozijada. Año 1559.” 8vo.

The “Menennos,” published in the same year with the Cornelia, is further proof of his learning. It is in prose, and taken from Plautus; but with large changes. The plot is laid in Seville; the play is divided into fourteen scenes, after the example of Lope de Rueda; and the manners are altogether Spanish. There is even a talk of Lazarillo de Tórmes, when speaking of an unprincipled young servant.[36] But it shows frequently the same free and natural dialogue, fresh from common life, that is found in his master’s dramas; and it can be read with pleasure throughout, as an amusing _rifacimento_.[37]

[36] It is in the twelfth scene. “Es el mas agudo rapaz del
mundo, y es hermano de Lazarillo de Tórmes, el que tuvo
trezientos y cincuenta amos.”

[37] “Con privilegio. La Comedia de los Menennos, traduzida
por Juan Timoneda, y puesta en gracioso estilo y elegantes
sentencias. Año 1559.” 8vo.

The Paso, however, of “The Blind Beggars and the Boy” is, like the other short pieces, more characteristic of the author and of the little school to which he belonged. It is written in short, familiar verses, and opens with an address to the audience by Palillos, the boy, asking for employment, and setting forth his own good qualities, which he illustrates by showing how ingeniously he had robbed a blind beggar who had been his master. At this instant, Martin Alvarez, the blind beggar in question, approaches on one side of a square where the scene passes, chanting his prayers, as is still the wont of such persons in the streets of Spanish cities; while on the other side of the same square approaches another of the same class, called Pero Gomez, similarly employed. Both offer their prayers in exchange for alms, and are particularly earnest to obtain custom, as it is Christmas eve. Martin Alvarez begins:--

What pious Christian here
Will bid me pray
A blessed prayer,
Quite singular
And new, I say,
In honor of our Lady dear?

On hearing the well-known voice, Palillos, the boy, is alarmed, and, at first, talks of escaping; but recollecting that there is no need of this, as the beggar is blind, he merely stands still, and his old master goes on:--

O, bid me pray! O, bid me pray!--
The very night is holy time,--
O, bid me pray the blessed prayer,
The birth of Christ in rhyme!

But as nobody offers an alms, he breaks out again:--

Good heavens! the like was never known!
The thing is truly fearful grown;
For I have cried,
Till my throat is dried,
At every corner on my way,
And not a soul heeds what I say!
The people, I begin to fear,
Are grown too careful of their gear,
For honest prayers to pay.

The other blind beggar, Pero Gomez, now comes up and strikes in:--

Who will ask for the blind man’s prayer?--
O gentle souls that hear my word!
Give but an humble alms,
And I will sing the holy psalms
For which Pope Clement’s bulls afford
Indulgence full, indulgence rare,
· · · · · · · · · · · ·
And add, besides, the blessed prayer
For the birth of our blessed Lord.[38]

[38]
Devotos cristianos, quien
Manda rezar
Una oracion singular
Nueva de nuestra Señora?

Mandadme rezar, pues que es
Noche santa,
La oracion segun se canta
Del nacimiento de Cristo.
Jesus! nunca tal he visto,
Cosa es esta que me espanta:
Seca tengo la garganta
De pregones
Que voy dando por cantones,
Y nada no me aprovecha:
Es la gente tan estrecha,
Que no cuida de oraciones.

Quien manda sus devociones,
Noble gente,
Que rece devotamente
Los salmos de penitencia,
Por los cuales indulgencia
Otorgó el Papa Clemente?
· · · · · · · ·
La oracion del nacimiento
De Cristo.

L. F. Moratin, Obras, Madrid, 1830, 8vo, Tom. I. p. 648.

The two blind men, hearing each other, enter into conversation, and, believing themselves to be alone, Alvarez relates how he had been robbed by his unprincipled attendant, and Gomez explains how he avoids such misfortunes by always carrying the ducats he begs sewed into his cap. Palillos, learning this, and not well pleased with the character he has just received, comes very quietly up to Gomez, knocks off his cap, and escapes with it. Gomez thinks it is his blind friend who has played him the trick, and asks civilly to have his cap back again. The friend denies, of course, all knowledge of it; Gomez insists; and the dialogue ends, as many of its class do, with a quarrel and a fight, to the great amusement, no doubt, of audiences such as were collected in the public squares of Valencia or Seville.[39]

[39] This Paso--true to the manners of the times, as we can see
from a similar scene in the “Diablo Cojuelo,” Tranco VI.--is
reprinted by L. F. Moratin, (Obras, 8vo, Madrid, 1830, Tom. I.
Parte II. p. 644), who gives (Parte I. Catálogo, Nos. 95, 96,
106-118) the best account of all the works of Timoneda. The habit
of singing popular poetry of all kinds in the streets has been
common, from the days of the Archpriest Hita (Copla 1488) to our
own times. I have often listened to it, and possess many of the
ballads and other verses still paid for by an alms as they were
in this Paso of Timoneda.

In one of the plays of Cervantes,--that of “Pedro de
Urdemalas,”--the hero is introduced enacting the part of a blind
beggar, and advertising himself by his chant, just as the beggar
in Timoneda does:--

The prayer of the secret soul I know,
That of Pancras the blessed of old;
The prayer of Acacius and Quirce;
One for chilblains, that come from the cold,
One for jaundice that yellows the skin,
And for scrofula working within.

The lines in the original are not consecutive, but those I have
selected are as follows:--

Se la del anima sola,
Y se la de San Pancracio,
La de San Quirce y Acacio,
Se la de los sabañones,
La de curar tericia
Y resolver lamparones.

Comedias, Madrid, 1615, 4to, f. 207.