Chapter XXIV

CALDERON, CONTINUED.--COMEDIAS DE CAPA Y ESPADA.--FIRST OF ALL MY LADY.--FAIRY LADY.--THE SCARF AND THE FLOWER, AND OTHERS.--HIS DISREGARD OF HISTORY.--ORIGIN OF THE EXTRAVAGANT IDEAS OF HONOR AND DOMESTIC RIGHTS IN THE SPANISH DRAMA.--ATTACKS ON CALDERON.--HIS ALLUSIONS TO PASSING EVENTS.--HIS BRILLIANT STYLE.--HIS LONG AUTHORITY ON THE STAGE.--AND THE CHARACTER OF HIS POETICAL AND IDEALIZED DRAMA.

We must now turn to some of Calderon’s plays which are more characteristic of his times, if not of his peculiar genius,--his _comedias de capa y espada_. He has left us many of this class, and not a few of them seem to have been the work of his early, but ripe, manhood, when his faculties were in all their strength, as well as in all their freshness. Nearly or quite thirty can be enumerated, and still more may be added, if we take into the account those which, with varying characteristics, yet belong to this particular division rather than to any other. Among the more prominent are two, entitled “It is Worse than it was” and “It is Better than it was,” which, probably, were translated by Lord Bristol in his lost plays, “Worse and Worse” and “Better and Better”;[647]--“The Pretended Astrologer,” which Dryden used in his “Mock Astrologer”;[648]--“Beware of Smooth Water”;--and “It is ill keeping a House with Two Doors”;--which all indicate by their names something of the spirit of the entire class to which they belong, and of which they are favorable examples.

[647] “’T is Better than it was” and “Worse and Worse.” “These
two comedies,” says Downes, (Roscius Anglicanus, London, 1789,
8vo, p. 36), “were made out of Spanish by the Earl of Bristol.”
There can be little doubt that Calderon was the source here
referred to. Tuke’s “Adventures of Five Hours,” in Dodsley’s
Collection, Vol. XII., is from Calderon’s “Empeños de Seis
Horas.” But such instances are rare in the old English drama,
compared with the French.

[648] Dryden took, as he admits, “An Evening’s Love, or the Mock
Astrologer,” from the “Feint Astrologue” of Thomas Corneille.
(Scott’s Dryden, London, 1808, 8vo, Vol. III. p. 229.) Corneille
had it from Calderon’s “Astrólogo Fingido.”

Another of the same division of the drama is entitled “First of all my Lady.” A young cavalier from Granada arrives at Madrid, and immediately falls in love with a lady, whose father mistakes him for another person, who, though intended for his daughter, is already enamoured elsewhere. Strange confusions are ingeniously multiplied out of this mistake, and strange jealousies naturally follow. The two gentlemen are found in the houses of their respective ladies,--a mortal offence to Spanish dramatic honor,--and things are pushed to the most dangerous and confounding extremities. The principle on which so many Spanish dramas turn, that

A sword-thrust heals more quickly than a wound
Inflicted by a word,[649]

[649]
Mas facil sana una herida
Que no una palabra.

And again, in “Amar despues de la Muerte,”--

Una herida mejor
Se sana que una palabra.

Comedias, 1760. Tom. II. p. 352.

is abundantly exemplified. More than once the lady’s secret is protected rather than the friend of the lover, though the friend is in mortal danger at the moment;--the circumstance which gives its name to the drama. At last, the confusion is cleared up by a simple explanation of the original mistakes of all the parties, and a double marriage brings a happy ending to the troubled scene, which frequently seemed quite incapable of it.[650]

[650] “Antes que todo es mi Dama.”

“The Fairy Lady”[651] is another of Calderon’s dramas that is full of life, spirit, and ingenuity. Its scene is laid on the day of the baptism of Prince Balthasar, heir-apparent of Philip the Fourth, which, as we know, occurred on the 4th of November, 1629; and the piece itself was, therefore, probably written and acted soon afterwards.[652] If we may judge by the number of times Calderon complacently refers to it, we cannot doubt that it was a favorite with him; and if we judge by its intrinsic merits, we may be sure it was a favorite with the public.[653]

[651] “La Dama Duende,” Comedias, Tom. III.

[652]
Oy el bautismo celebra
Del primero Balthasar.

Jorn. I.

[653] I should think he refers to it eight times, perhaps more,
in the course of his plays: e. g. in “Mañanas de Avril y Mayo”;
“Agradecer y no Amar”; “El Joseph de las Mugeres,” etc. I notice
it, because he rarely alludes to his own works, and never, I
think, in the way he does to this one. The Dama Duende is well
known in the French “Répertoire” as the “Esprit Follet” of
Hauteroche.

Doña Angela, the heroine of the intrigue, a widow, young, beautiful, and rich, lives at Madrid, in the house of her two brothers; but, from circumstances connected with her affairs, her life there is so retired, that nothing is known of it abroad. Don Manuel, a friend, arrives in the city to visit one of these brothers; and, as he approaches the house, a lady strictly veiled stops him in the street, and conjures him, if he be a cavalier of honor, to prevent her from being further pursued by a gentleman already close behind. This lady is Doña Angela, and the gentleman is her brother, Don Luis, who is pursuing her only because he observes that she carefully conceals herself from him. The two cavaliers not being acquainted with each other,--for Don Manuel had come to visit the other brother,--a dispute is easily excited, and a duel follows, which is interrupted by the arrival of this other brother, and an explanation of his friendship for Don Manuel.

Don Manuel is now brought home, and established in the house of the two cavaliers, with all the courtesy due to a distinguished guest. His apartments, however, are connected with those of Doña Angela by a secret door, known only to herself and her confidential maid; and finding she is thus unexpectedly brought near a person who has risked his life to save her, she determines to put herself into a mysterious communication with him.

But Doña Angela is young and thoughtless. When she enters the stranger’s apartment, she is tempted to be mischievous, and leaves behind marks of her wild humor that are not to be mistaken. The servant of Don Manuel thinks it is an evil spirit, or at best a fairy, that plays such fantastic tricks; disturbing the private papers of his master, leaving notes on his table, throwing the furniture of the room into confusion, and--from an accident--once jostling its occupants in the dark. At last, the master himself is confounded; and though he once catches a glimpse of the mischievous lady, as she escapes to her own part of the house, he knows not what to make of the apparition. He says:--

She glided like a spirit, and her light
Did all fantastic seem. But still her form
Was human; I touched and felt its substance,
And she had mortal fears, and, woman-like,
Shrunk back again with dainty modesty.
At last, like an illusion, all dissolved,
And, like a phantasm, melted quite away.
If, then, to my conjectures I give rein,
By heaven above, I neither know nor guess
What I must doubt or what I may believe.[654]

[654]
Como sombra se mostró;
Fantástica su luz fué.
Pero como cosa humana,
Se dexó tocar y ver;
Como mortal se temió,
Rezeló como muger,
Como ilusion se deshizó,
Como fantasma se fué:
Si doy la rienda al discurso,
No sé, vive Dios, no sé,
Ni que tengo de dudar,
Ni que tengo de creer.

Jorn. II.

But the tricksy lady, who has fairly frolicked herself in love with the handsome young cavalier, is tempted too far by her brilliant successes, and, being at last detected in the presence of her astonished brothers, the intrigue, which is one of the most complicated and gay to be found on any theatre, ends with an explanation of her fairy humors and her marriage with Don Manuel.

“The Scarf and the Flower,”[655] which, from internal evidence, is to be placed in the year 1632, is another of the happy specimens of Calderon’s manner in this class of dramas; but, unlike the last, love-jealousies constitute the chief complication of its intrigue.[656] The scene is laid at the court of the Duke of Florence. Two ladies give the hero of the piece, one a scarf and the other a flower; but they are both so completely veiled when they do it, that he is unable to distinguish one of them from the other. The mistakes, which arise from attributing each of these marks of favor to the wrong lady, constitute the first series of troubles and suspicions. These are further aggravated by the conduct of the Grand Duke, who, for his own princely convenience, requires the hero to show marked attentions to a third lady; so that the relations of the lover are thrown into the greatest possible confusion, until a sudden danger to his life brings out an involuntary expression of the true lady’s attachment, which is answered with a delight so sincere on his part as to leave no doubt of his affection. This restores the confidence of the parties, and the _dénouement_ is of course happy.

[655] “La Vanda y la Flor,” Comedias, Tom. V. It is admirably
translated into German, by A. W. Schlegel.

[656] In Jornada I. there is a full-length description of the
_Jura de Baltasar_,--the act of swearing homage to Prince
Balthasar, as Prince of Asturias, which took place in 1632, and
which Calderon would hardly have introduced on the stage much
later, because the interest in such a ceremony is so short-lived.

There are in this, as in most of the dramas of Calderon belonging to the same class, great freshness and life, and a tone truly Castilian, courtly, and graceful. Lisida, who loves Henry, the hero, and gave him the flower, finds him wearing her rival’s scarf, and, from this and other circumstances, naturally accuses him of being devoted to that rival;--an accusation which he denies, and explains the delusive appearance on the ground, that he approached one lady, as the only way to reach the other. The dialogue in which he defends himself is extremely characteristic of the gallant style of the Spanish drama, especially in that ingenious turn and repetition of the same idea in different figures of speech, which grows more and more condensed as it approaches its conclusion.

_Lisida._ But how can you deny the very thing
Which, with my very eyes, I now behold?

_Henry._ By full denial that you see such thing.

_Lisida._ Were you not, like the shadow of her house,
Still ever in the street before it?

_Henry._ I was.

_Lisida._ At each returning dawn, were you not found
A statue on her terrace?

_Henry._ I do confess it.

_Lisida._ Did you not write to her?

_Henry._ I can’t deny
I wrote.

_Lisida._ Served not the murky cloak of night
To hide your stolen loves?

_Henry._ That, under cover
Of the friendly night, I sometimes spoke to her,
I do confess.

_Lisida._ And is not this her scarf?

_Henry._ It was hers once, I think.

_Lisida._ Then what means this?
If seeing, talking, writing, be not making love,--
If wearing on your neck her very scarf,
If following her and watching, be not love,
Pray tell me, Sir, what ’t is you call it?
And let me not in longer doubt be left
Of what can be with so much ease explained.

_Henry._ A timely illustration will make clear
What seems so difficult. The cunning fowler,
As the bird glances by him, watches for
The feathery form he aims at, not where it is,
But on one side; for well he knows that he
Shall fail to reach his fleeting mark, unless
He cheat the wind to give its helpful tribute
To his shot. The careful, hardy sailor,--
He who hath laid a yoke and placed a rein
Upon the fierce and furious sea, curbing
Its wild and monstrous nature,--even he
Steers not right onward to the port he seeks,
But bears away, deludes the opposing waves,
And wins the wished-for haven by his skill.
The warrior, who a fortress would besiege,
First sounds the alarm before a neighbour fort,
Deceives, with military art, the place
He seeks to win, and takes it unawares,
Force yielding up its vantage-ground to craft.
The mine that works its central, winding way
Volcanic, and, built deep by artifice,
Like Mongibello, shows not its effect
In those abysses where its pregnant powers
Lie hid, concealing all their horrors dark
E’en from the fire itself; but _there_ begins
The task which _here_ in ruin ends and woe,--
Lightning beneath and thunderbolts above.--
Now, if my love, amidst the realms of air,
Aim, like the fowler, at its proper quarry;
Or sail a mariner upon the sea,
Tempting a doubtful fortune as it goes;
Or chieftainlike contends in arms,
Nor fails to conquer even baseless jealousy;
Or, like a mine sunk in the bosom’s depths,
Bursts forth above with fury uncontrolled;--
Can it seem strange that _I_ should still conceal
My many loving feelings with false shows?
Let, then, this scarf bear witness to the truth,
That I, a hidden mine, a mariner,
A chieftain, fowler, still in fire and water,
Earth and air, would hit, would reach, would conquer,
And would crush, my game, my port, my fortress,
And my foe.

[_Gives her the scarf._

_Lisida._ You deem, perchance, that, flattered
With such shallow compliment, my injuries
May be passed over in your open folly.
But no, Sir, no!--you do mistake me quite.
I am a woman; I am proud,--so proud,
That I will neither have a love that comes
From pique, from fear of being first cast off,
Nor from contempt that galls the secret heart.
He who wins _me_ must love me for myself,
And seek no other guerdon for his love
But what that love itself will give.[657]

[657]
_Lisid._ Pues como podeis negarme
Lo mismo que yo estoy viendo?

_Enriq._ Negando que vos lo veis.

_Lisid._ No fuisteis en el passeo
Sombra de su casa?

_Enriq._ Sí.

_Lisid._ Estatua de su terrero
No os halló el Alva?

_Enriq._ Es verdad.

_Lisid._ No la escrivisteis?

_Enriq._ No niego,
Que escriví.

_Lisid._ No fué la noche
De amantes delitos vuestros
Capa obscura?

_Enriq._ Que la hablé
Alguna noche os confiesso.

_Lisid._ No es suya essa vanda?

_Enriq._ Suya
Pienso que fué.

_Lisid._ Pues que es esto?
Si ver, si hablar, si escrivir,
Si traer su vanda al cuello,
Si seguir, si desvelar,
No es amar, yo, Enrique, os ruego
Me digais como se llama,
Y no ignore yo mas tiempo
Una cosa que es tan facil.

_Enriq._ Respondaos un argumento:
El astuto cazador,
Que en lo rapido del buelo
Hace á un atomo de pluma
Blanco veloz del acierto,
No adonde la caza está
Pone la mira, advirtiendo,
Que para que el viento peche,
Le importa engañar el viento.
El marinero ingenioso,
Que al mar desbocado, y fiero
Monstruo de naturaleza,
Halló yugo, y puso freno,
No al puerto que solicita
Pone la proa, que haciendo
Puntas al agua, desmiente
Sus iras, y toma puerto.
El capitan que esta fuerza
Intenta ganar, primero
En aquella toca al arma,
Y con marciales estruendos
Engaña á la tierra, que
Mal prevenida del riesgo
La esperaba; assi la fuerza
Le da á partido al ingenio.
La mina, que en las entrañas
De la tierra estrenó el centro,
Artificioso volcan,
Inventado Mongibelo,
No donde preñado oculta
Abismos de horror inmensos
Hace el efecto, porque,
Engañando al mismo fuego,
Aquí concibe, allá aborta;
Allí es rayo, y aquí trueno.
Pues si es cazador mi amor
En las campañas del viento;
Si en el mar de sus fortunas
Inconstante marinero;
Si es caudillo victorioso
En las guerras de sus zelos:
Si fuego mal resistido
En mina de tantos pechos,
Que mucho engañasse en mí
Tantos amantes afectos?
Sea esta vanda testigo;
Porque, volcan, marinero,
Capitan, y cazador;
En fuego, agua, tierra, y viento;
Logre, tenga, alcanze, y tome
Ruina, caza, triunfo, y puerto.

[_Dale la vanda._

_Lisid._ Bien pensareis que mis quexas,
Mal lisonjeadas con esso,
Os remitan de mi agravio
Las sinrazones del vuestro.
No, Enrique, yo soy muger
Tan sobervia, que no quiero
Ser querida por venganza,
Por tema, ni por desprecio.
El que á mí me ha de querer,
Por mí ha de ser; no teniendo
Conveniencias en quererme
Mas que quererme.

Jorn. II.

As may be gathered, perhaps, from what has been said concerning the few dramas we have examined, the plots of Calderon are almost always marked with great ingenuity. Extraordinary adventures and unexpected turns of fortune, disguises, duels, and mistakes of all kinds, are put in constant requisition, and keep up an eager interest in the concerns of the personages whom he brings to the foreground of the scene. Yet many of his stories are not wholly invented by him. Several are taken from the books of the Old Testament, as is that on the rebellion of Absalom, which ends with an exhibition of the unhappy prince hanging by his hair and dying amidst reproaches on his personal beauty. A few are from Greek and Roman history, like “The Second Scipio” and “Contests of Love and Loyalty,”--the last being on the story of Alexander the Great. Still more are from Ovid’s “Metamorphoses,”[658] like “Apollo and Climene” and “The Fortunes of Andromeda.” And occasionally, but rarely, he seems to have sought, with painstaking care, in obscure sources for his materials, as in “Zenobia the Great,” where he has used Trebellius Pollio and Flavius Vopiscus.[659]

[658] I think there are six, at least, of Calderon’s plays
taken from the Metamorphoses; a circumstance worth noting,
because it shows the direction of his taste. He seems to have
used no ancient author, and perhaps no author at all, in his
plays, so much as Ovid, who was a favorite classic in Spain, six
translations of the Metamorphoses having been made there before
the time of Calderon. Don Quixote, ed. Clemencin, Tom. IV., 1835,
p. 407.

[659] It is possible Calderon may not have gone to the originals,
but found his materials nearer at hand; and yet, on a comparison
of the triumphal entry of Aurelian into Rome, in the third
_jornada_, with the corresponding passages in Trebellius, “De
Triginta Tyrannis,” (c. xxix.), and Vopiscus, “Aurelianus,” (c.
xxxiii., xxxiv., etc.), it seems most likely that he had read
them.

Sometimes Calderon is indebted to his dramatic predecessors.
Thus, his fine play of the “Alcalde de Zalamea” is compounded of
the stories in Lope’s “Fuente Ovejuna” and his “Mejor Alcalde el
Rey.” But I think his obligations of this sort are infrequent.

But, as we have already noticed, Calderon makes every thing bend to his ideas of dramatic effect; so that what he has borrowed from history comes forth upon the stage with the brilliant attributes of a masque, almost as much as what is drawn from the rich resources of his own imagination. If the subject he has chosen falls naturally into the only forms he recognizes, he indeed takes the facts much as he finds them. This is the case with “The Siege of Breda,” which he has set forth with an approach to statistical accuracy, as it happened in 1624-1625;--all in honor of the commanding general, Spinola, who may well have furnished some of the curious details of the piece,[660] and who, no doubt, witnessed its representation. This is the case, too, with “The Last Duel in Spain,” founded on the last single combat held there under royal authority, which was fought at Valladolid, in the presence of Charles the Fifth, in 1522; and which, by its showy ceremonies and chivalrous spirit, was admirably adapted to Calderon’s purposes.[661]

[660] For instance, the exact enumeration of the troops at the
opening of the play. Comedias, Tom. III. pp. 142, 149.

[661] It ends with a voluntary anachronism,--the resolution of
the Emperor to apply to Pope Paul III. and to have such duels
abolished by the Council of Trent. By its very last words, it
shows that it was acted before the king, a fact that does not
appear on its title-page. The duel is the one Sandoval describes
with so much minuteness. Hist. de Carlos V., Anvers, 1681, folio,
Lib. XI. §§ 8, 9.

But where the subject he selected was not thus fully fitted, by its own incidents, to his theory of the drama, he accommodated it to his end as freely as if it were of imagination all compact. “The Weapons of Beauty” and “Love the Most Powerful of Enchantments” are abundant proofs of this;[662] and so is “Hate and Love,” where he has altered the facts in the life of Christina of Sweden, his whimsical contemporary, till it is not easy to recognize her,--a remark which may be extended to the character of Peter of Aragon in his “Tres Justicias en Uno,” and to the personages in Portuguese history whom he has so strikingly idealized in his “Weal and Woe,”[663] and in his “Firm-hearted Prince.” To an English reader, however, the “Cisma de Inglaterra,” on the fortunes and fate of Anne Boleyn and Cardinal Wolsey, is probably the most obvious perversion of history; for the Cardinal, after his fall from power, comes on the stage begging his bread of Catherine of Aragon, while, at the same time, Henry, repenting of the religious schism he has countenanced, promises to marry his daughter Mary to Philip the Second of Spain.[664]

[662] “Las Armas de la Hermosura,” Tom. I., and “El Mayor Encanto
Amor,” Tom. V., are the plays on Coriolanus and Ulysses. They
have been mentioned before.

[663] Good, but somewhat over-refined, remarks on the use
Calderon made of Portuguese history in his “Weal and Woe” are to
be found in the Preface to the second volume of Malsburg’s German
translation of Calderon, Leipzig, 1819, 12mo.

[664] Comedias, 1760, Tom. IV. See, also, Ueber die
Kirchentrennung von England, von F. W. V. Schmidt, Berlin,
1819, 12mo;--a pamphlet full of curious matter, but quite too
laudatory, so far as Calderon’s merit is concerned. Nothing
will show the wide difference between Shakspeare and Calderon
more strikingly than a comparison of this play with the grand
historical drama of “Henry the Eighth.”

Nor is Calderon more careful in matters of morals than in matters of fact. Duels and homicides occur constantly in his plays, under the slightest pretences, as if there were no question about their propriety. The authority of a father or brother to put to death a daughter or sister who has been guilty of secreting her lover under her own roof is fully recognized.[665] It is made a ground of glory for the king, Don Pedro, that he justified Gutierre in the atrocious murder of his wife; and even the lady Leonore, who is to succeed to the blood-stained bed, desires, as we have seen, that no other measure of justice should be applied to herself than had been applied to the innocent and beautiful victim who lay dead before her. Indeed, it is impossible to read far in Calderon without perceiving that his object is mainly to excite a high and feverish interest by his plot and story; and that to do this, he relies almost constantly upon an exaggerated sense of honor, which, in its more refined attributes, certainly did not give its tone to the courts of Philip the Fourth and Charles the Second, and which, with the wide claims he makes for it, could never have been the rule of conduct and intercourse anywhere, without shaking all the foundations of society and poisoning the best and dearest relations of life.

[665] Of these duels, and his notions about female honor, half
the plays of Calderon may be taken as specimens; but it is only
necessary to refer to “Casa con Dos Puertas” and “El Escondido y
la Tapada.”

Here, therefore, we find pressed upon us the question, What was the origin of these extravagant ideas of domestic honor and domestic rights, which are found in the old Spanish drama from the beginning of the full-length plays in Torres Naharro, and which are thus exhibited in all their excess in the plays of Calderon?

The question is certainly difficult to answer, as are all like it that depend on the origin and traditions of national character; but--setting aside as quite groundless the suggestion sometimes made, that the old Spanish ideas of domestic authority might be derived from the Arabs--we find that the ancient Gothic laws, which date back to a period long before the Moorish invasion, and which fully represented the national character till they were supplanted by the “Partidas” in the fourteenth century, recognized the same fearfully cruel system that is found in the old drama. Every thing relating to domestic honor was left by these laws, as it is by Calderon, to domestic authority. The father had power to put to death his wife or daughter who was dishonored under his roof; and if the father were dead, the same terrible power was transferred to the brother in relation to his sister, or even to the lover, where the offending party had been betrothed to him.

No doubt, these wild laws, though formally renewed and reënacted as late as the reign of Saint Ferdinand, had ceased in the time of Calderon to have any force; and the infliction of death under circumstances in which they fully justified it would then have been murder in Spain, as it would have been in any other civilized country of Christendom. But, on the other hand, no doubt these laws were in operation during many more centuries than had elapsed between their abrogation and the age of Calderon and Philip the Fourth. The tradition of their power, therefore, was not yet lost on the popular character, and poetry was permitted to preserve their fearful principles long after their enactments had ceased to be acknowledged anywhere else.[666]

[666] Fuero Juzgo, ed. de la Academia, Madrid, 1815, folio, Lib.
III. Tít. IV. Leyes 3-5 and 9. It should be remembered, that
these laws were the old Gothic laws of Spain before A. D. 700;
that they were the laws of the Christians who did not fall under
the Arabic authority; and that they are published in the edition
of the Academy as they were consolidated and reënacted by St.
Ferdinand after the conquest of Córdova in 1241.

Similar remarks may be made concerning duels. That duels were of constant recurrence in Spain in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, as well as earlier, we have abundant proof. But we know, too, that the last which was countenanced by royal authority occurred in the youth of Charles the Fifth; and there is no reason to suppose that private encounters were much more common among the cavaliers at Madrid in the time of Lope de Vega and Calderon than they were at London and Paris.[667] But the traditions that had come down from the times when they prevailed were quite sufficient warrant for a drama which sought to excite a strong and anxious interest more than any thing else. In one of the plays of Barrios there are eight, and in another twelve duels;[668] an exhibition that, on any other supposition, would have been absurd.

[667] Howell, in 1623, when he had been a year in Madrid, under
circumstances to give him familiar knowledge of its gay society,
and at a time when the drama of Lope was at the height of its
favor, says, “One shall not hear of a duel here in an age.”
Letters, eleventh edition, London, 1754, 8vo, Book I. Sect. 3,