Chapter III: Front Matter (3)
I saw her at last happy--happy to a degree that had never before been shed over her life. I should have left her then, as I intended, to see Livia again; but, while the changes I have just referred to were taking place around me, the heavy, unmerciful hand of spoliation had been laid on the loved asylum where my sister hoped to find shelter for life. Soldiers’ quarters were needed. The monastery was appropriated, the nuns were expelled. A greater trial than exile was inflicted on their innocent lives--a trial as severe as death, and, in fact, was death to several of their number. They were separated from one another; the aged were received in pious families; some were dispersed in various convents of their order still spared in Italy by the act of suppression; others, again, sought refuge in countries not then affected by the tempest which, from time to time, rises against the church and strikes the religious orders as lightning always strikes the highest summits, without ever succeeding in annihilating one, but leaving to the persecutors the stigma of crime and the shame of defeat!
My sister Livia was of the number of these holy exiles. A convent of her order, not far from Paris, was assigned her as a refuge, and it was there I had the joy of once more seeing her calm, angelic face. How much we had to say to each other! How truly united we now were! What a pleasure to again find her attentive ear, her faithful heart, and her courageous, artless soul! But when, after the long account I had to give her, I asked her to tell me, in her turn, all she had suffered from the sudden, violent invasion, the profanation of a place so dear and sacred to her, and the necessity of bidding farewell to the cloudless heavens, the beautiful mountains, and all the enchanting scenery of the country she loved, she smiled:
“What difference does all that make?” said she. “Only one thing is sad: that they who have wronged us should have done us this injury. As for us, the only real privation there is they could not inflict on us; the only true exile they could not impose. _Domini est terra et plenitudo ejus!_ No human power can separate us from him!”
* * * * *
And now there remains but little to add.
The happiness of this world, such as it is, in all its fulness and its insufficiency, Gilbert and Stella possess. Diana also, without being obliged to leave her mother, has found a husband worthy of her and the dear sanctuary of all that is noble. Mario makes frequent journeys to France to visit his sisters, each in her retreat, and his former asperities seem to grow less and less. Lando and Teresina also come to see me every time they visit Paris, and I always find in him a sincere and faithful friend; but it is very difficult to convince him I shall never marry again, and still more so to make him understand how I can be happy.
Happy!… Nevertheless I am, and truly so! I am happier than I ever imagined I could be on earth; and if life sometimes seems long, I have never found it sad. Order, peace, activity, salutary friendship, a divine hope, leave nothing to be desired, and like one[7] who, still young, likewise arrived through suffering to the clearest light, I said, in my turn: Nothing is wanting, for “_I believe, I love, and I wait!_”
Yes, I await the plenitude of that happiness, a single ray of which sufficed to transform my whole life. I bless God for having unveiled the profound mystery of my heart, and enabled me to solve its enigma, and to understand with the same clearness all the aspirations of the soul which constitute here below the glory and torment of our nature! I render thanks to him for being able to comprehend and believe with assurance that the reason why we are so insatiable for knowledge, for repose, for happiness, for love, for security, and for so many other blessings never found on earth to the extent they are longed for, is because “we are all created _solely_ for what we cannot here possess!”[8]
MARCH.
Ready is Time beneath her brooding wing
To break with swelling life the brown earth’s sheath;
And fondly do we watch th’ expectant heath
For bloom and song the days are ripe to bring.
Our heralds even vaunt the birth of spring,
While yet, alack! the winter’s blatant breath
Defieth trust, and coldly shadoweth
With drifts of gray each hope that dares to sing.
Yet still we know, as deepest shades foretell
The coming of the morn, and lovely sheen
Of living sunshine lies asleep between
A snow-bound crust and joys that upward well,
So, sure of triumph o’er the yielding shell,
Are ecstasies of song and matchless green!
CALDERON’S AUTOS SACRAMENTALES.
I.
I.
Villemain, in his _Lectures on the Literature of the Middle Ages_, while speaking of the Mysteries performed by the _Confrères de la Passion_, exclaims, “It is to be regretted that at that period the French language was not more fully developed, and that there was no man of genius among the _Confrères de la Passion_.
“The subject was admirable: imagine a theatre, which the faith of the people made the supplement of their worship; conceive religion, with the sublimity of its dogmas, put on the stage before convinced spectators, then a poet of powerful imagination, able to use freely all these grand things, not reduced to the necessity of stealing a few tears from us by feigned adventures, but striking our souls with the authority of an apostle and the impassioned magic of an artist, addressing what we believe and feel, and making us shed real tears over subjects which seem not only true, but divine--certainly nothing would have been greater than this poetry!”
Such a poet and such poetry Spain possesses in Calderon and his _Autos Sacramentales_, which may be regarded as the completion and perfection of the religious drama of the Middle Ages.
Of the modern nations which possess a national popular drama, Spain is the only one where, by the side of the secular stage, there has grown up and been carefully cultivated a religious drama; for this, in England, died with the Mysteries and Moralities.
The persistence of the religious drama in Spain is to be explained by the peculiar history of the nation, especially the struggle of centuries with the Moors--a continual crusade fought on their own soil, which inflamed to the highest degree the religious enthusiasm of the people.
The Reformation awoke but a feeble echo in Spain, and only served to quicken the masses to greater devotion to doctrines they saw threatened from abroad.
The two dogmas of the church which have always been especially dear to the Spaniards are those of the Immaculate Conception and Transubstantiation.
The former, as more spiritual and impalpable, remained an article of faith, deep and fervent, only represented to the senses by the mystic masterpieces of Murillo. Transubstantiation, on the other hand, was embodied in a host of symbols and ceremonies, and had devoted to it the most gorgeous of all the festivals of the church--that of Corpus Christi, established in 1263 by Urban IV., formally promulgated by Clement V. in 1311, and fifty years later amplified and rendered more magnificent by John XXIII.
This festival was introduced into Spain during the reign of Alfonso X., and its celebration there, as elsewhere, was accompanied by dramatic representations.
In Barcelona, even earlier than 1314, part of the celebration consisted in a procession of giants and ridiculous figures--a feature, as we shall afterwards see, always retained.
It seems established that from the earliest date dramatic representations of some kind always accompanied the celebration of Corpus Christi.
These plays, constituting a distinct and peculiar class, received a name of their own, and were at first called _autos_ (from the Latin _actus_, applied to any particularly solemn act, as _autos-da-fe_), and later more specifically _autos sacramentales_.
We infer from occasional notices that these religious dramas were performed without interruption during the XIVth and XVth centuries. What their character was during this period we do not know, as we possess none earlier than the beginning of the XVIth century.
From this last-named date notices of the secular drama begin to multiply, and we may form some idea of the early _autos sacramentales_ from the productions of Juan de la Enzina and Gil Vicente.
The former wrote a number of religious dialogues or plays, which he named _eclogues_, probably because the majority of the characters were shepherds.
One of these eclogues is on the Nativity, another on the Passion and Death of our Redeemer.
The word _auto_, as we have stated, was applied to any solemn act, and did not at first refer exclusively to the Corpus Christi dramas, so we find among the works of Gil Vicente an _auto_ for Christmas, and one on the subject of S. Martin, which, although having nothing to do with the mystery of the Eucharist, was performed during the celebration of Corpus Christi in 1504, in the vestibule of the Church of Las Caldas in Lisbon.
These sacred plays were undoubtedly at first represented only in the churches by the ecclesiastics; they were not allowed to be performed in villages (where they could not be supervised by the higher clergy), or for the sake of money.
The abuses in their performance, or perhaps the large number of spectators, afterwards led to their representation in the open air.
The stage (as in the beginning of the classical drama) was a wagon, on which the scenery was arranged; when the _autos_ became more elaborate, three of these wagons or _carros_ were united.
We may see what these primitive stages were like in _Don Quixote_ (part ii. chap. 11), the hero of which encountered upon the highway one of these perambulating theatres:
“He who guided the mules and served for carter was a frightful
demon. The cart was uncovered and opened to the sky, without
awning or wicker sides.
“The first figure that presented itself to Don Quixote’s eyes
was that of Death itself with a human visage. Close by him sat
an angel with painted wings. On one side stood an emperor, with
a crown, seemingly of gold, on his head.
“At Death’s feet sat the god called Cupid, not blindfolded, but
with his bow, quiver, and arrows.
“There was also a knight completely armed, excepting only that
he had no morion or casque, but a hat with a large plume of
feathers of divers colors.
“With these came other persons, differing both in habits and
countenances.”
To Don Quixote’s question as to who they were the carter replied:
“Sir, we are strollers belonging to Angulo el Malo’s company.
This morning, which is the octave of Corpus Christi, we have
been performing, in a village on the other side of yon hill, a
piece representing the Cortes or Parliament of Death, and this
evening we are to play it again in that village just before us;
which being so near, to save ourselves the trouble of dressing
and undressing, we come in the clothes we are to act our parts
in.”
The character of the _autos_ changed with the improvements in their representation; from mere dialogues they developed into short farces, the object of which was to amuse while instructing.
Like the secular plays, they opened with a prologue, called the _loa_ (from _loar_, to praise), in which the object of the play was shadowed forth and the indulgence of the spectators demanded.
The _loa_ was originally spoken by one person, and was also called _argumento_ or _introito_, and was in the same metre as the _auto_; although it consisted sometimes of a few lines in prose, as in the _auto_ of _The Gifts which Adam sent to Our Lady by S. Lazarus_:
“LOA.--Here is recited an _auto_ which treats of a letter
and gifts which our father Adam sent by S. Lazarus to the
illustrious Virgin, Our Lady, supplicating her to consent to
the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ.
“In order that the _auto_ may be easily heard, the accustomed
silence is requested.”
Still later the _loa_ was extended into a short, independent play, sometimes with no reference to the _auto_ it preceded, and frequently by another author.
During Lope de Vega’s reign over the Spanish stage an _entremes_ or farce was inserted between the _loa_ and _auto_.
These _entremeses_ are gay interludes, terminating with singing and dancing, and having no connection with the solemn play which follows, unless, as is the case with one of Lope de Vega’s (_Muestra de los Carros_), to ridicule the whole manner of celebrating the festival.
With the increase in wealth and cultivation the performance of the _autos_ had lost much of its primitive simplicity, and was attended with lavish magnificence.
The proper representation of these truly national works was deemed of such importance that each city had a committee, or _junta del corpus_, consisting of the _corregidor_ and two _regidores_ of the town, and a secretary.
This committee in Madrid was presided over by a member of the royal council (_Consejo y Cámera real_) who was successively called the “commissary, protector, and superintendent of the festivals of the Most Holy Sacrament.”
The president of the junta was armed with extraordinary powers, frequently exercised against refractory actors. It was his duty to provide everything necessary for the festival: plays, actors, cars, masked figures for the processions, decorations for the streets, etc.
As there were at that date no permanent theatrical companies in the cities, it was necessary to engage actors for the _autos_ early in the year, in order that there might be no risk of failure, and to afford the necessary time for rehearsals.
The necessary preparations having been made, and an early Mass celebrated, a solemn procession took place, followed by the representation of the _autos_ in the open air.
The best descriptions of the manner of representation are found in the travels of two persons who witnessed the performance of the _autos_ in Madrid in 1654 and 1679.
The second of the two was the Comtesse d’Aulnoy, whose account of her travels was always a popular book.[9] The writer was a gossipy French lady, who disseminated through Europe many groundless scandals about the Spanish court.
Here are her own words about the _autos_:
“As soon as the Holy Sacrament is gone back to the church
everybody goes home to eat, that they may be at the _autos_,
which are certain kinds of tragedies upon religious subjects,
and are oddly enough contrived and managed; they are acted
either in the court or street of each president of a council,
to whom it is due.
“The king goes there, and all the persons of quality receive
tickets overnight to go there; so that we were invited, and I
was amazed to see them light up abundance of flambeaux, whilst
the sun beat full upon the comedians’ heads, and melted the wax
like butter. They acted the most impertinent piece that I ever
saw in my days.… These _autos_ last for a month.…”
We shall see why the flippant Parisian was shocked when we consider the subject-matter of these plays.
The whole ceremony is much better described by the earlier traveller, Aarseus de Somerdyck, a Dutchman, who was in Madrid in 1654.
His account is so long and minute that we have been obliged to condense it slightly:
“The day opened with a procession, headed by a crowd of
musicians and Biscayans with tambourines and castanets; then
followed many dancers in gay dresses, who sprang about and
danced as gayly as though they were celebrating the carnival.
“The king attended Mass at Santa Maria, near the palace, and
after the service came out of the church bearing a candle in
his hand.
“The repository containing the Host occupied the first place;
then came the grandees and different councils.
“At the head of the procession were several gigantic figures
made of pasteboard, and moved by persons concealed within. They
were of various designs, and some looked frightful enough; all
represented women, except the first, which consisted only of
an immense painted head borne by a very short man, so that the
whole looked like a dwarf with a giant’s head.
“There were besides two similar figures representing a Moorish
and an Ethiopian giant, and a monster called the _tarrasca_.
“This is an enormous serpent, with a huge belly, long tail,
short feet, crooked claws, threatening eyes, powerful,
distended jaws, and entire body covered with scales.
“Those who are concealed within cause it to writhe so that its
tail often knocks off the unwary bystanders’ hats, and greatly
terrifies the peasants.
“In the afternoon, at five o’clock, the _autos_ were performed.
These are religious plays, between which comic interludes are
given to heighten and spice the solemnity of the performance.
“The theatrical companies, of which there are two in Madrid,
close their theatres during this time, and for a month perform
nothing but such religious plays, which take place in the open
air, on platforms built in the streets.
“The actors are obliged to play every day before the house
of one of the presidents of the various councils. The first
representation is before the palace, where a platform with a
canopy is erected for their majesties.
“At the foot of this canopy is the theatre; around the stage
are little painted houses on wheels, from which the actors
enter, and whither they retire at the end of every scene.
“Before the performance the dancers and grotesque figures amuse
the public.
“During the representation lights were burned, although it
was day and in the open air, while generally other plays are
performed in the theatres in the daytime without any artificial
light.”
Sufficient has now been said in regard to the history and mode of representation of the _autos_ to enable us to understand the essentially popular character of these plays--a fact very necessary to be kept in mind, and which will explain, if not palliate, the many abuses which gradually were introduced, and which led to their suppression by a royal decree in 1765.
They have, however, left traces of their influence in plays still performed on Corpus Christi in some parts of Spain, and in the sacred plays represented during Lent in all the large cities.[10]
II.
We have seen the primitive condition of the _autos_ when Lope de Vega took possession of the stage. He did for the _autos_ what he did for the secular drama: with his consummate knowledge of the stage and the public, he took the materials already at hand, and remodelled them to the shape most likely to interest and win applause.
The superior poetic genius of Calderon found in the _autos_ the field for its noblest exercise, and it is now admitted that he carried the secular as well as the religious drama to the highest perfection of which it was capable.
It is perhaps not generally remembered that Calderon, in common with many men of letters of that day, took Holy Orders when he was fifty-one years old (1651), and was appointed chaplain at Toledo.
This, however, involved his absence from court, and twelve years later he was made chaplain of honor to the king; other ecclesiastical dignities were added, which he enjoyed until the close of his life, in 1681.
Mr. Ticknor (_Hist. of Span. Lit._, ii. 351, note) says: “It seems probable that Calderon wrote no plays expressly for the public stage after he became a priest in 1651, confining himself to _autos_ and to _comedias_ for the court, which last, however, were at once transferred to the theatres of the capital.”
For nearly thirty-seven years he furnished Madrid, Toledo, Granada, and Seville with _autos_, and devoted to them all the energies of his matured mind.
Solis, the historian, in one of his letters says: “Our friend Don Pedro Calderon is just dead, and went off, as they say the swan does, singing; for he did all he could, even when he was in immediate danger, to finish the second _auto_ for Corpus Christi.
“But, after all, he completed only a little more than half of it, and it has been finished in some way or other by Don Melchior de Leon.”
Calderon evidently based his claim for recognition as a great poet on his _autos_; of all his plays he deemed them alone worthy of his revision for publication, and he would now without doubt be judged by them, had not the spirit in which and for which they were written passed away, to a great extent, with the author.
Before we examine his _autos_ in detail we must notice some of their most striking peculiarities, and see in what respect they differ from plays on religious subjects.
The intensely religious character of the Spaniards led, at an early date, to their consecrating to religion every form of literature; and plays based on the lives of the saints, miracles of the Blessed Virgin, etc., are very common.
Almost every prominent doctrine of the church is illustrated in the dramas of Lope de Vega and Calderon.
Their plays differ not at all in _form_ from those of a purely secular character; they are all in three acts, in verse.
The _autos_, on the other hand, are restricted to the celebration of one doctrine--that of Transubstantiation; consist of but one act (that one, however, nearly equal in length to the three of many secular plays); and were performed on but one solemn occasion--the festival of Corpus Christi.
The most striking peculiarity of the _autos_ consists in the introduction of _allegorical_ characters, which, however, were not first brought before the public in _autos_, nor was their use restricted to that class of dramatic compositions.
The custom of personifying inanimate objects is as old as the imagination of man, and has been constantly used since the days of Job and David; and Cervantes, in his interesting drama, _Numancia_, introduces “a maiden who represents Spain,” and “the river Douro.”
It is not easy to see how the introduction of allegorical personages could have been avoided.
The leading idea in all the _autos_ is the redemption of the human soul by the personal sacrifice of the Son of God--that great gift of himself to us embodied in the doctrine of the Real Presence.
The plot is the history of the soul from its innocence in Eden to its temptation and fall, and subsequent salvation; the characters are the soul itself, represented by human nature, the Spouse Christ, the tempter, the senses, the various virtues and vices.
These constitute but a small minority of the whole number, as will be seen by the following list, which might easily be expanded:
God Almighty as Father, King, or Prince, Omnipotence, Wisdom, Divine Love, Grace, Righteousness, Mercy; Christ as the Good Shepherd, Crusader, etc., the Bridegroom--_i.e._, Christ, who woos his bride, the Church--the Virgin, the Devil or Lucifer, Shadow as a symbol of guilt, Sin, Man as Mankind, the Soul, Understanding, Will, Free-will, Care, Zeal, Pride, Envy, Vanity, Thought (generally, from its fickleness, as Clown), Ignorance, Foolishness, Hope, Comfort, the Church, the written and natural Law, Idolatry, Judaism or the Synagogue, the Alcoran or Mahometanism, Heresy, Apostasy, Atheism, the Seven Sacraments, the World, the four quarters of the globe, Nature, Light symbol of Grace, Darkness, Sleep, Dreams, Death, Time, the Seasons and Days, the various divisions of the world, the four elements, the plants (especially the wheat and vine, as furnishing the elements for the Holy Eucharist), the five Senses, the Patriarchs, Prophets, Apostles and their symbols (the eagle of John, etc.), and the Angels and Archangels.
Anachronisms are not regarded, and the prophets and apostles appear side by side on the same stage.
Although the plot was essentially always the same, its development and treatment were infinitely varied.
The protagonist is Man, but under the most diversified forms, from abstract man to Psyche or Eurydice, representatives of the human soul.
The essential idea of man’s fall and salvation is entwined with all manner of subjects taken from history, mythology, and romance.
The first contributed _The Conversion of Constantine_, the second a host of plays like _The Divine Jason_, _Cupid and Psyche_, _Andromeda and Perseus_, _The Divine Orpheus_, _The True God Pan_, _The Sacred Parnassus_, _The Sorceries of Sin_ (Ulysses and Circe). Romance contributed the fables of _Charlemagne and the Twelve Peers_, etc.
It is almost needless to say that the most important sources of the _autos_ are the Scriptures and Biblical traditions.
Examples of the former are: _The Brazen Serpent_, _The First and Second Isaac_, _Baltassar’s Feast_, _The Vineyard of the Lord_ (S. Matt. xx. 1). _Gedeon’s Fleece_, _The Faithful Shepherd_, _The Order of Melchisedech_, _Ruth’s Gleaning_, etc.
An interesting example of the use of tradition is the _auto_ of _The Tree of the Best Fruit_ (_El Arbol del Mejor Fruto_), embodying the legend that the cross on which Christ died was produced from three seeds of the tree of the forbidden fruit planted on the grave of Adam. There yet remains a large number of plays which cannot be referred to any of the above-mentioned classes.
These are the inventions of the poet’s brain, some of them but a recast of secular plays already popular;[11] others are fresh creations, and are among the most interesting of the autos. Among these are _The Great Theatre of the World_ (_El Gran Teatro del Mundo_, partly translated by Dean Trench), _The Poison and the Antidote_ (_El Veneno y la Triaca_, partly translated by Mr. MacCarthy), etc.
No idea, however, can be formed of the _autos_ from a mere statement of their form and subjects; they must be examined in their entirety, and the reader must transport himself back to the spirit of the times in which they were written.
What this spirit was, and how the _autos_ are to be regarded, is admirably expressed by Schack, in his _History of the Spanish Drama_ (iii. p. 251), and of which Mr. MacCarthy has given the following spirited translation:
“Posterity cannot fail to participate in the admiration of
the XVIIth century for this particular kind of poetry, when
it shall possess sufficient self-denial to transplant itself
out of the totally different circle of contemporary ideas into
the intuition of the world, and the mode of representing it,
from which this entire species of drama has sprung. He who
can in this way penetrate deeply into the spirit of a past
century will see the wonderful creations of Calderon’s _autos_
rise before him, with sentiments somewhat akin to those of
the astronomer, who turns his far-reaching telescope upon the
heavens, and, as he scans the mighty spaces, sees the milky-way
separating into suns, and from the fathomless depths of the
universe new worlds of inconceivable splendor rising up.
“Or let me use another illustration: he may feel like the
voyager who, having traversed the wide waste of waters, steps
upon a new region of the earth, where he is surrounded by
unknown and wonderful forms--a region which speaks to him in
the mysterious voices of its forests and its streams, and where
other species of beings, of a nature different from any he has
known, look out wonderingly at him from their strange eyes.
“Indeed, like to such a region these poems hem us round.
“A temple opens before us, in which, as in the Holy Graal
Temple of Titurel, the Eternal Word is represented symbolically
to the senses.
“At the entrance the breath as if of the Spirit of eternity
blows upon us, and a holy auroral splendor, like the brightness
of the Divinity, fills the consecrated dome.
“In the centre, as the central point of all being and of all
history, stands the cross, on which the infinite Spirit has
sacrificed himself from his infinite benevolence towards man.
“At the foot of this sublime symbol stands the poet as
hierophant and prophet, who explains the pictures upon the
walls, and the dumb language of the tendrils, and the flowers
that are twining round the columns, and the melodious tones
which reverberate in music from the vault.
“He waves his magic wand, and the halls of the temple extend
themselves through the immeasurable; a perspective of pillars
spreads from century to century up to the dark gray era of the
past, where first the fountain of life gushes up, and where
suns and stars, coming forth from the womb of nothing, begin
their course.
“And the inspired seer unveils the secrets of creation, showing
to us the breath of God moving over the chaos, as he separates
the solid earth from the waters, points out to the moon and
the stars their orbits, and commands the elements whither they
should fly and what they are to seek.
“We feel ourselves folded in the wings of the Spirit of the
universe, and we hear the choral jubilation of the new-born
suns, as they solemnly enter on their appointed paths,
proclaiming the glory of the Eternal.
“From the dusky night, which conceals the source of all things,
we see the procession of peoples, through the ever-renewing
and decaying generations of men, following that star that led
the wise men from the east, and advancing in their pilgrimage
towards the place of promise; but beyond, irradiated by the
splendors of redemption and reconciliation, lies the future,
with its countless generations of beings yet unborn.
“And the sacred poet points all round to the illimitable,
beyond the boundaries of time out into eternity, shows the
relation of all things, created and uncreated, to the symbol of
grace, and how all nations look up to Him in worship.
“The universe in its thousand-fold phenomena, with the chorus
of all its myriad voices, becomes one sublime psalm to the
praise of the Most Holy; heaven and earth lay their gifts at
his feet; the stars, ‘the never-fading flowers of heaven,’ and
the flowers, ‘the transitory stars of earth,’ must pay him
tribute; day and night, light and darkness, lie worshipping
before him in the dust, and the mind of man opens before him
its most hidden depths, in order that all its thoughts and
feelings may become transfigured in the vision of the Eternal.
“This is the spirit that breathes from the _autos_ of Calderon
upon him who can comprehend them in the sense meant by the
poet.”
With this preparation we can now examine in detail one or two of the most characteristic of Calderon’s _autos_, selecting from the class of Scriptural subjects _Baltassar’s Feast_, and from the large class of allegories invented by the poet the _Painter of his own Dishonor_, which is of especial interest, as being the counterpart of a secular play.
NOTE.--Those who desire a better acquaintance with Calderon’s AUTOS than they can form from the above very imperfect sketch and analyses will find the following list of authorities of interest:
The _autos_ were not collected and published until some time after the poet’s death, in 1717, six vols. 4to, and 1759-60, six vols., also in 4to, both editions somewhat difficult to find. In 1865 thirteen were published in Riradeneyra’s collection of Spanish authors in a work entitled _Autos Sacramentales desde su origen hasta fines del siglo_ XVII., with an historical introduction by the collector, Don Eduardo G. Pedroso.
The _autos_ have never been republished, in the original, out of Spain.
The enthusiasm in regard to the Spanish drama aroused by Schlegel’s _Lectures_, early in this century, bore fruit in a large number of excellent German translations of the most celebrated secular plays.
The _autos_ were neglected until 1829, when Cardinal Diepenbrock published a translation of _Life is a Dream_ (counterpart of comedy of same name); this was followed in 1846-53 by _Geistliche Schauspiele_, von Calderon (Stuttgart, two volumes), containing eleven _autos_ translated by J. von Eichendorff, a writer well known in other walks of literature. In this translation the original metre is preserved, and they are in every way worthy of admiration.
In 1856 Ludwig Braunfels published two volumes of translations from Lope de Vega, Iviso de Molina, and Calderon; the second volume contains the _auto_ of _Baltassar’s Feast_.
In 1855 Dr. Franz Lorinser, an ecclesiastic of Regensburg, an enthusiastic admirer of Spanish literature, began the translation of all of Calderon’s _autos_, and has now translated some sixty-two of the seventy-two into German trochaic verse, without any attempt to preserve the original _asonante_.
This translation is accompanied by valuable notes and explanations, very necessary for the non-Catholic reader, as these plays are in many instances crowded with scholastic theology.
If the Germans, with their genius for translation, shrank from the labor necessary for the faithful rendering of the _autos_, the English, with their more unmanageable language, may well be excused for suffering these remarkable plays to remain so long unknown.
Occasional notices and analyses had been given in literary histories and periodicals, but the first attempt at a metrical translation was by Dean Trench in his admirable little work (reprinted in New York 1856) on Calderon, which contains a partial translation of _The Great Theatre of the World_.
It is needless to say it is beautifully done, and on the whole is the most poetical translation yet made into English.
The first complete translation of an _auto_ was made by Mr. D. F. MacCarthy, published in 1861 in London, under the title, _Three Dramas of Calderon, from the Spanish_, and containing the _auto_, _The Sorceries of Sin_.
The author was favorably known for his previous labors in this field, which had won him the gratitude of all interested in Spanish literature.
He has since published a volume, entitled _Mysteries of Corpus Christi_, Dublin and London, 1867, containing complete translations of _Baltassar’s Feast_, _The Divine Philothea_, and several scenes from _The Poison and the Antidote_, in all of which the original metre is strictly preserved. There are few translations in the English language where similar difficulties have been so triumphantly overcome.
The _asonante_ can never be naturalized in English verse, but Mr. MacCarthy has done much to reconcile us to it, and make its introduction in Spanish translations useful, if not indispensably necessary.
It may be doubted whether in any other way a correct idea of the Spanish drama can be conveyed to those unacquainted with the Spanish language.
TO BE CONCLUDED NEXT MONTH.
ARE YOU MY WIFE?
BY THE AUTHOR OF “A SALON IN PARIS BEFORE THE WAR,” “NUMBER THIRTEEN,” “PIUS VI.,” ETC.
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The Catholic World, Vol. 21, April, 1875, to September, 1875Chapter III: Front Matter (3)
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