In 1527 Vicente seems clearly to have aimed his allusions to the sons of priests at Francisco de Sá de Miranda, whose father was a priest and who was born at Coimbra. And now inO Clerigo da Beira[87]we have a priest addressing his son Francisco and telling him that a priest's son will never come to any good. On his part the grave Sá de Miranda had protested against the introduction of scenes from the Bible into thefarsas: the allusion to Vicente was clear although his treatment of such scenes was usually reverent. Vicente still had the ear of the Court and Sá de Miranda could only lament that the new style had at first so little vogue in Portugal. That the King, when he had leisure, consulted Vicente on weightier matters than the production of Court plays is proved by a passage[88]in the letter addressed to him by the poet from Santarem. A terrible earthquake shock on Jan. 26, 1531, followed by other severe shocks, kept the people in a panic for fifty days.Terruerant satis haec pavidam praesagia plebem, and to make matters worse the monks of Santarem, with an eye on the new Christians, spoke of the wrath of God and announced another earthquake as calmly as if they were giving out the hour of evensong. Vicente, who in his letter to the King[89]says, like Newman's Gerontius, 'I am near to death,' assembled the monks and preached them an eloquent sermon. The prestige of the Court poet restrained their zeal and probably avoided another massacre such as he had seen at Lisbon a quarter of a century before. It was in December of this year that theJubileu de Amoreswas acted in the house of the Portuguese Ambassador at Brussels, to thehorror of Cardinal Aleandro, who almost persuaded himself that he was witnessing the sack of Rome four years earlier. It was perhaps before this that King João commanded Vicente to publish his works, but he could not be greatly perturbed that a play by Vicente had given offence to the Holy See, with which he was himself often in unpleasant relations at this time. At all events Vicente continued to produce his plays. In 1532 the birth of the long desired heir to the throne was celebrated at Lisbon, and Vicente presented theAuto da Lusitania, while two long plays, theRomagem de AggravadosandAmadis de Gaula, belong to the following year. The former was acted at Evora in honour of the birth of the Infante Felipe (May 1533).Amadis de Gaulaperhaps shows some signs of weariness, and if he played the part of Amadis he would apply to himself the lines
Que ya veis que soy pasadoA la vida de los muertos (II. 282).
Que ya veis que soy pasadoA la vida de los muertos (II. 282).
TheAuto da Cananeawas written at the request of the Abbess of Oudivellas and acted at that convent near Lisbon in 1534. It contains perhaps a reference to the earthquake of 1531 (I. 373). TheAuto da Mofina Mendesmay have been written some years before it was acted in the presence of the King at Evora on Christmas morning 1534: it alludes to the capture of Francis I at Pavia (1525) and to the sack of Rome (1527). Vicente had returned to Evora at least as early as August 1535, and in 1536 he produced there before the King his last play, theFloresta de Enganos, which may well have been a collection of farcical scenes written at various periods of his career[90]. We know that he was dead on April 16, 1540. He did not follow the Court to Lisbon in August 1537 and his death may be assigned with some plausibility to the end of 1536 at Evora[91]. The children of his second marriage were almostcertainly with him, Paula and Luis, who edited his works in 1562 and were now still in their teens, and the even younger Valeria. Paula seems to have inherited her father's versatility and his musical, dramatic and literary tastes. Tradition connects her closely with him and would even assign her a part in the composition of his plays. Another and a more reliable tradition says that he was buried in the Church of S. Francisco at Evora. His life had been full and strenuous and we leave him in this quiet little towndepois da vida cansada descansando[92].
If we were limited to the information about Gil Vicente furnished by his contemporaries, we should but know that he had introduced into Portugalrepresentaçõesof eloquent style and novel invention imitating Enzina's eclogues with great skill and wit[93], and that the mordant comic poet Gil Vicente, who hid a serious aim beneath his gaiety and was skilled in veiling his satire in light-hearted jests, might have excelled Menander, Plautus and Terence if he had written in Latin instead of in the vulgar tongue[94]. That is, we should have known nothing that we could not learn from his plays and it is to his plays that we must go if we would be more closely acquainted with his character and his attitude towards the problems of his day. King Manuel, says Damião de Goes, always kept at his Court Spanish buffoons as a corrective of the manners and habits of the courtiers[95]. The King may have had something of the sort in his mind in encouraging Gil Vicente, and probably he especially favoured his allusions to the courtiers; but we cannot for a moment consider that Vicente, friend and adviser of King João III, the grave town-councillor whose influence could check the fanaticism of the monks at Santarem—can we imagine them bowing before a mere mountebank, a strolling player?—was looked upon simply as a Court jester. The impression left by his plays is, rather, that of the worthy thoughtful face of Velazquez as painted in hisLas Meninaspicture, a figure closely familiar with the Court yet still somewhat aloof,apartado. like Gil Terron. Vicente regards himself as arustico peregrino(III. 390), anignorante sabedor(I. 373) as opposed to the ignorant-malicious or ignorant-presumptuous of the Court. But Vicente was no ascetic, his was a genial, generous nature, he liked to have enough to spend and give and leave in his will. Kindly and chivalrous, he was a champion of the down-trodden but had first-hand knowledge of the malice and intrigues of the peasants and of the poor in the towns. Above all he was thoroughly Portuguese. He might place his scene in Crete but in that very scene he would refer to things so Portuguese as thejaneirasandlampas de S. João. Portugal is
Pequeno e muy grandioso,Pouca gente e muito feito,Forte e mui victorioso,Mui ousado e furiosoEm tudo o que toma a peito,
Pequeno e muy grandioso,Pouca gente e muito feito,Forte e mui victorioso,Mui ousado e furiosoEm tudo o que toma a peito,
and he appears to have shared the popular prejudice against Spain. Did he also share the people's hostility towards the priests and the Jews? It cannot be said that the priests presented in his plays are patterns of morality. As to the Jews he knows of their corrupt practices and describes them in a late play asa mais falsa ralé[96]. It was during the last ten years of Vicente's life that the question of the new Christians came especially to the front (from 1525). In earlier plays Vicente seems more sympathetic towards them and the pleasant sketch of the Jewish family in Lisbon is as late as 1532[97]. In 1506, the very year of the massacre of Jews at Lisbon, he had gone to the root of the question when he declared in his lay sermon that:
Es por demás pedir al judíoQue sea cristiano en el corazón ...Que es por demás al que es mal cristianoDoctrina de Cristo por fuerza ni ruego[98].
Es por demás pedir al judíoQue sea cristiano en el corazón ...Que es por demás al que es mal cristianoDoctrina de Cristo por fuerza ni ruego[98].
And twenty-five years later he said to the monks at Santarem: 'If there are some here who are still strangers to our faith it is perhaps for the greater glory of God[99].' That is to say: if you force the Jews to become Christians you will only make them hypocrites; far better to treat them frankly as Jews and not expect figs from thistles. That Vicente himself was a devout Christian and Catholic and a deeply religious man such plays as theAuto da Alma, theBarcas, theSumario, theAuto da Cananeaare sufficient proof. He had much of the Erasmian spirit but nothing in common with the Reformation. His irreverence is wholly external, it was abuses not doctrine that he attacked, the ministers of the Church and not the Church itself. He may have been in the secret of King João's somewhat stormy negotiations with the Holy See and he took the national and regalist view: in theAuto da FeiraMercury addresses Rome as follows:
Nam culpes aos reis da terra,Que tudo te vem de cima (I. 166).
Nam culpes aos reis da terra,Que tudo te vem de cima (I. 166).
He wished to reform the Church from within. All are perversely asleep, a sleep of death[100]. Many prayers do not suffice withoutalmas limpas e puras[101]. Men must be judged by their works[102]. In theAuto da Fé(1510) we have a simple declaration of faith:
Fé he amar a Deos só por elleQuanto se pode amar,Por ser elle singular,Nam por interesse delle;E se mais quereis saber,Crer na Madre Igreja SantaE cantar o que ella cantaE querer o que ella quer[103].
Fé he amar a Deos só por elleQuanto se pode amar,Por ser elle singular,Nam por interesse delle;E se mais quereis saber,Crer na Madre Igreja SantaE cantar o que ella cantaE querer o que ella quer[103].
But four years earlier and ten before Luther's formal protest against the papal indulgences we find Vicente in his lay sermon referring to the question 'whether the Pope may grant so many pardons' and laughing at the hair-splitting of preachers: was the fruit that Eve ate an apple, a pear or a melon[104]? His own religion certainly had a mystical and pantheistic tendency[105]. It was as deep as was his love of Nature. He would have the hearts of men dance with jocund May[106]:
Hei de cantar e folgarE bailar c'os corações,
Hei de cantar e folgarE bailar c'os corações,
and he had an eye for the humblest flower that blows—chicory and camomile, hedge flowerets, honeysuckle and wild roses:
Almeirones y magarzas,Florecitas por las zarzas,Madresilvas y rosillas (I. 95. Cf.II. 29).
Almeirones y magarzas,Florecitas por las zarzas,Madresilvas y rosillas (I. 95. Cf.II. 29).
And he sympathized closely with what was nearest to Nature: peasants and children. Of the people of the towns he was probably less enamoured and he speaks ofa desvairada opinião do vulgoand of the folly of pandering to it[107]. At Court he certainly had many friends. A friendly rivalry in art and letters bound him to Garcia de Resende for probably over forty years and he was no doubt on excellent terms with thedadivosoConde de Penella (II. 511), themuito jucundoConde de Tentugal (III. 360) and the Conde de Vimioso. High rank was no certain shelter from the shafts of Vicente's wit, but when it was a case of princes hewas more careful:
Agora cumpre atentarComo poemos as mãos,
Agora cumpre atentarComo poemos as mãos,
as he ingenuously remarks[108]. King João II had seen to it that no class or individual should dispute the power of the throne, and now the King reigned supreme. Kings, says Vicente, are the image of God[109]. That was in 1533, when it might seem to him that the authority of the throne was more than ever necessary to cope with the confusion of the times. The King's power stood for the nation, that of a noble might mean mere private ambition or power in the hands of one unworthy, and Gil Vicente asks nobly:
Quem não é senhor de siPorqué o será de ninguem?(Who himself cannot controlWhy should he o'er others rule?)
Quem não é senhor de siPorqué o será de ninguem?(Who himself cannot controlWhy should he o'er others rule?)
He had witnessed many changes, and looking back as an old man his memory might well be overwhelmed by a period so crowded[110]. He had seen the provinces and capital of Portugal transformed by the overseas discoveries. We may be sure that he had watched with more interest than the ordinarylisboetathe extension of the Portuguese empire and the deeds of the unfortunate Dom Francisco de Almeida ('Tomou Quiloa e Mombaça, Parece cousa de graça Ver de que morte acabou') and the redoubtable Afonso de Albuquerque, who snatched victories from defeat in the teeth of all manner of obstruction and indifference and placed Portugal's glory on a pinnacle scarcely dreamed of even in the intoxicating moment of Gama's first return to Belem in 1499:
Outro mundo encubertoVimos então descubrirQue se tinha por incerto:Pasma homem de ouvir.
Outro mundo encubertoVimos então descubrirQue se tinha por incerto:Pasma homem de ouvir.
Meanwhile Vicente never lost sight of the fact that the nation's strength lay not in rich imports, however fabulous and envied, but inthe good use of its own soil and capacities and in the vigour, energy and discipline of its inhabitants, and a note of warning sounded again and again in his plays as he saw the old simplicity sink and disappear before wave on wave of luxury, ambition and hollow display. He had felt the good old times, content with rustic dance and song, vanishing since 1510:
De vinte annos a caNão ha hi gaita nem gaiteiro[111].
De vinte annos a caNão ha hi gaita nem gaiteiro[111].
Now no one is content:ninguem se contenta da maneira que sohia[112].Tudo bem se vai ao fundo[113]. He especially deplored the new confusion between the classes[114]. Shepherd, page and priest all wish to serve the King, that is, to become an official and to idle for a fixed wage while the land remained unploughed. The peasants do not know what they want andmurmuram sem entender[115]. There is slackness everywhere (todos somos negligentes)[116]. Portugal was suffering from a crisis similar to that of four centuries later and men were inclined to leave their professions in order to theorize or in the hope of growing rich by a short cut or by chance instead of by hard, steady work; and the result was a period of upheaval and disquiet. Vicente suffered like the rest. He had embodied in his plays the simple pastimes of the Portuguese people, their delight in the processions, services and dramatic displays of the Church, in the mimicry of the earlyarremedillos, in the rich fancy-dressmomoswhich were an essential element at great festivities. But his drama was not classical, often it was not drama. Technically he is less dramatic than Lucas Fernández or Torres Naharro. He defied every rule of Aristotle and mingled together the grave and gay, coarse and courtly in a way faithful to life rather than to any accepted theories of the stage. While he continued to produce these natural and delightful plays all kinds of new conditions arose. It was the irony of circumstance that when the old Portuguese poetry held the field the taste of the Court for personal satire and magnificent show could scarcely appreciate at itstrue value the lyrical gift of Vicente; and later, after King Manuel's death, Vicente found himself confronted by a new school in which classicism carried the day, the long Italian metres superseded the merry nativeredondilhaof eight syllables, and the latinisers began to transform the language and shuddered likefemmes savantesat Vicente's barbarisms and uncouthvoquibles. His attitude towards his critics was one of humility and good humour. It is at least good to know that Vicente with hisredondilhascontinued to triumph personally in his old age and it was only the hand of death that drove him from the scene. Nor did he cease to point out abuses: the increase ofa falsa mentira, the corruption of justice[117], the greed for money[118]and the growth of luxury[119]. He pillories the ignorance of pilots[120]by which so many ships were lost now and later, and he seems to doubt the wisdom of keeping women shut up like nuns both before[121]and after[122]marriage. If in many respects Vicente belonged to the Middle Ages, in his curiosity and many-sidedness he was a true child of the Renaissance. He dabbled in astrology and witchcraft, loved music (he wrote tunes for some of his lyrics), poetry, reading, acting and the goldsmith's art, and maintained his zest in old age:Mofina Mendeswas probably written when he was over sixty. Attempts to represent him as a Lutheran reformer, a deep philosopher or an authority in questions philological fall to the ground. He was a jovial poet and a keen observer who loved his country, and when he saw its inhabitants all at sixes and sevens he would willingly have brought them back to what he calleda boa diligencia.
In Vicente's notes and sketches of the Portugal of his day we may see the master hand of the goldsmith accustomed to set jewels. His miniatures are so distinct and the types described are so various that had we no other record of the first third of the sixteenth century in Portugal we might form a very fair and singularly vivid estimate from his plays. With a comic poet we have, of course, to be on our guard. When Vicente introduces thelavradorwho steals his neighbour's land, is he drawing from life or from Berceo'smal labradoror from theDanza de la Muerte(fasiendo furto en la tierra agena) or from the Bible: 'Cursed be he that removeth his neighbour's landmark'? When he presents thepoverty-stricken nobleman, the dissipated priest, rustics from Beira, or negro slaves, for how much does the conventional satire of the day stand in these portraits and how much is drawn from Nature? Are they merely literary types? It is obvious that these themes were a great resource for the satirists of that time but their value to the satirist lay in their truth. The sad existence of the poor gentleman and the splendour maintained by penniless nobles are all too well attested. As to the priests, when we find King Manuel joining with King Ferdinand of Spain in a protest to the Pope to the effect that the whole of Christendom was scandalized by the dissolute life of the clergy and by the traffic in Bulls[123], and grave ecclesiastics in Spain and friends of grave ecclesiastics, like Franco Sacchetti[124]earlier in Italy, using language even more violent than that of Vicente, we need not doubt the truth of his sketches. He was perhaps more vivid than the other critics and his satire penetrated deeply for the very reason that he was a realist. There was no doubt some professional exaggeration in the language of hisbeirãorustics, but his sympathy with the peasants and his wide knowledge of the province of Beira prove that his object was not merely mockery:zombar da gente da Beira[125]. Many of his types are foreshadowed in theCancioneiro Geral, and especially in theArrenegosof Gregorio Afonso, of the household of the Bishop of Evora: the 'priest who lives like a layman,' 'the gentleman who has not enough to eat,' 'the man of great estate and small income,' thepreciosos, theborrachas, thefantasticos, thealcouviteira, 'the peasants placed in a position of importance.' In developing these figures Vicente was always careful to keep close to Nature. Each speaks in his own language, 'the negro as a negro, the old man as an old man.' This is carried to such a length that the Spanish Queen in the lament on the death of King Manuel is made to speak her few lines in Spanish, the rest of the poem being in Portuguese[126].
Vicente is not an easy writer because his styles are so many and his allusions so local. But we must be infinitely grateful to him for the way in which he portrays a type in a few lines and for the fact that although they are types they are evidently taken from individuals whom he had observed and who continue to live for us in his pages. His gallery of priests is for all time. Frei Paço comes, with his velvet cap and gilt sword, 'mincing like a very sweet courtier'; Frei Narciso starves and studies, tinging his complexion to an artificial yellow in the hope that his hypocritical asceticism may win him a bishopric; the worldly courtier monk fences and sings and woos; the Lisbon priest, like his confessor one of Love's train, fares well on rabbits and sausages and good red wine, even as the portly pleasure-loving Lisbon canons; the country priest resembles a kite pouncing on chickens; the ambitious chaplain accepts the most menial tasks, compared with whom the sporting priest of Beira is at least pleasantly independent; and there are the luxurious hermit, the dissipated village priest who never prayed the hours, the inconstant monk who had been carrier and carpenter and now wishes to be unfrocked in order to join more freely in dance and pilgrimage, the mad friar Frei Martinho persecuted by dogs and Lisbongamins, the ambitious preacher who glosses over men's sins. If the priests fared well in this life the satirists were determined that they should not be equally fortunate after their death. Vicente's proud Bishop is to be boiled and roasted, the grasping Archbishop is left perpetually aboiling, the ambitious Cardinal is to be devoured by dogs and dragons in a den of lions, while the sensual and simoniacal Pope is to have his flesh torn with red-hot iron. And we have—although here Vicente discreetly went to theDanza de la Muertefor his satire—the vainglorious and tyrannical Emperor, the Duke who had adored himself and the King who had allowed himself to be adored. There are the careless hedonistic Count more given to love than to charity or churchgoing, thefidalgo de raça, the haughtyfidalgo de solarwith a page to carry his chair, the judge who through his wife accepts bribes from the Jews, the rhetorical goldsmith, the usurer (onzeneiro) with his heart in hiscassette(arca)[127]. There too the pert servant-girl, the gossiping maidservant, the witch busy at night over a hanged man at the cross-roads, the faithless wife of the India-boundlisboeta, the Lisbon old woman copious in malediction, her genteel daughter Isabel, the wife who in her husband's absence only leaves her house to go to church or pilgrimage, themal maridadaimprisoned by her husband, the peasant bride singing and dancing in skirt of scarlet, the woman superstitiously devout, thebeata alcouviteirawho would not have escaped the Inquisition had she been printed like Aulegrafia in the seventeenth century, lisping gypsies, thealcouviteirasAnna and Branca and Brigida, thecuranderawith her quack remedies, the poor farmer's daughter brought to be a Court lady and still stained from the winepress, the old woman desirous of a young husband, the slattern Catherina Meigengra, the market-woman who plays thepanderoin the market-place, the peasant girls with pretentious names coming down to market basket on head from the hills, the shrew Branca and the timid wife Marta, the two irrepressible Lisbon fishwives, the volublesaloiawho sells milk well watered and charges cruel prices for her eggs and other wares, the country priest's greedy 'wife' who eats the baptism cake and is continually roasting chestnuts, the mystical ingenuous little shepherdess Margarida who sees visions on the hills, the superior daughter of the peasant judge who had once spoken to the King, the small Beira girl keeping ducks, Lediça the affectedly ingenuous daughter of the Jewish tailor, Cezilia of Beira possessed by a familiar spirit.
Or, again, we have the ceremonious Lisbon lover Lemos, the high-flown Castilian of fearful presence and a lion's heart, however threadbare hiscapa[128], the starving gentleman who makes atostão(= 5d.) last a month and dines off a turnip and a crust of bread, another—a sixteenth century Porthos—who imagines himself agrand seigneurand has not a sixpence to his name but hires a showy suit of clothes to go to the palace, another who is an intimate at Court (o mesmo paço) but who to satisfy a passing passion has to sell boots and viola and pawn his saddle, the poor gentleman's servant (moço) who sleeps on a chest, or is rudely awakened at midnight to light the lamp and hold the inkpot while his master writes down his latest inspiration in his song-book, the incompetent Lisbon doctors with their stereotyped formulas, the frivolous persons who are bored by three prayers at church but spend nights and days listening tonovellas, theparvo, predecessor of the Spanishgracioso, the Lisbon courtier descended from Aeneas, the astronomer, unpractical in daily life as he gazes on the stars, the old man amorous, rose in buttonhole, playing on a viola, the Jewish marriage-brokers, the country bumpkin, the lazy peasant lying by the fire, the poor but happy gardener and his wife, the quarrelsome blacksmith with his wife the bakeress, the carriers jingling along the road and amply acquainted with the wayside inns, the aspiringvilão, the peasant who complains bitterly of the ways of God, thelavradorwith his plough who did not forget his prayers and was charitable to tramps but skimped his tithes, the illiterate but not unmaliciousbeirãoshepherd who had led a hard life and whose chief offence was to have stolen grapes from time to time, the devout bootmaker who had industriously robbed the people during thirty years, the card-player blasphemous as thetafulof King Alfonso'sCantigas de Santa Maria, the delinquent from Lisbon's prison (theLimoeiro) whom his confessor had deceived before his hanging with promises of Paradise, the peasantO Morenowho knows the dances of Beira, the negro chattering in his pigeon-Portuguese 'like a red mullet in a fig-tree,' the deceitful negro expressing the strangest philosophy in Portuguese equally strange, the rustic clown Gonçalo with his baskets of fruit and capons, who when his hare is stolen turns it like a canny peasant to a kind of posthumous account:leve-a por amor de Deos pola alma de meus finados, the Jew Alonso Lopez who had formerly been prosperous in Spain but is now a poor new Christian cobbler at Lisbon, the Jewish tailor who in the streets gives himselffidalgoairs and is overjoyed at the regard shown him by officials and who at home sings songs of battle as he sits at his work[129].
In the actions and conversation of this motley crowd of persons high and low we are given many a glimpse of the times: the beflagged ship from India lying in the Tagus, the modest dinner (a panela cosida) of the richlavrador, the supper of bread and wine, shellfish and cherries bought in Lisbon's celebrated Ribeira market, the Lisbon Jew's dinner of kid and cucumber, the distaff bought by the shepherd at Santarem as a present for his love, the rustic gifts of acorns, bread and bacon, the shepherdess' simple dowry or the more considerable dowry of a girl somewhat higher in society (consisting of a loom, a donkey, an orchard, a mill and a mule), the migratory shepherds' ass, laden with the milk-jugs and bells, and with a leathern wallet, yokes and shackles, the sheepskin coats of the shepherds, bristling masks for their dogs (as a defence against wolves), loaves of bread, onions and garlic. Thus in town and village, palace and attic, house and street, on road and mountain and sea the Portugal of the early sixteenth century is clearly and charmingly conveyed to us, and we can realize better the conditions of Gil Vicente's life at Court or as he journeyed on muleback to Evora or Coimbra, Thomar or Santarem or Almeirim.
In 1523 the 'men of good learning' doubted Vicente's originality. They might point to the imitations of Enzina or to the resemblance between the trilogy ofBarcasand theDanza de la Muerteor they might reveal the origin of many a verse and phrase used by Vicente in his plays and already familiar in the song-books of Spain and Portugal. Vicente could well afford to let his critics strain at these gnats. He had the larger originality of genius and while realizing that 'there is nothing new under the sun[130]' he could transform all his borrowings into definite images or lyrical magic. (There are flashes of poetry even in the absurdensaladaofIII. 323-4.) He was the greatest lyrical poet of his day and, in a strictly limited sense, the greatest dramatist. He is Portugal's only dramatist, without forerunners or successors, for the playwrights of the Vicentian school lacked his genius and only attain some measure of success when they closely copy their master, while the classical school produced no great drama in Portugal: it is impossible to except even Antonio Ferreira'sInes de Castrofrom this sweeping assertion. But that is not to say that Vicente stands entirely isolated, self-sufficing and self-contained. Genius is never self-sufficing. Talent may live apart in an ivory palace but genius overflows in many relations, is acted on and reacts and has the generosity to receive as well as to give. The influences that acted upon Gil Vicente were numerous: the Middle Ages and the humanism of the first days of the Renaissance, the old national Portugal with its popular traditions and the new imperial Portugal of the first third of the sixteenth century, the Bible and theCancioneiro de Resende, the whole literature of Spain and Portugal, the services of the Church, the book of Nature. But before examining how these influences work out in his plays it may be well to consider whether their sources may be yet further extended.
Court relations between Portugal and France had never entirely ceased and the 1516Cancioneirocontains many allusions to the prevailing familiarity with things French. But Vicente's genius was not inspired by the Court: it would be truer to say that, while he was encouraged by Queen Lianor and the King, the Court's taste for new things, superficial fashions and personal allusions tended to thwart his genius. When he introduces a French song in his plays this does not imply any intimate acquaintance with the lyrical poetry of Francebut rather deference to the taste of the Court. He would pick up words of foreign languages with the same quickness with which he initiated himself into the way of witch or pilot, fishwife or doctor, but we have an excellent proof that his knowledge of neither French nor Italian was profound. We know how consistently he makes his characters speak each in his own language. Yet in theAuto da Fama, whereas the Spaniard speaks Spanish only, the Frenchman and Italian murder their own language and eke it out with Portuguese[131]. Vicente read what he could find to read, but we may be sure that his reading was mainly confined to Portuguese and Spanish. The very words in his letter to King João III in which he speaks of his reading are another echo of Enzina[132], and although it cannot be asserted that he was not acquainted with this or that piece of French literature and with the early French drama, it may be maintained that whatever influence France exercised upon him came mainly through Spain, whether the connecting link is extant, as in the case of theDanza de la Muerte, or lost, as in that of theSumario da Historia de Deos. Probably Vicente knew of Frenchmystèreslittle more than the name[133]. As to the literature of Greece, Rome and Italy the conclusion is even more definite. Vicente had not read Plautus or Terence, his knowledge ofel gran poeta Virgilio(III. 104) does not extend beyond the quotationomnia vincit amor. Aristotle is a nameet praeterea nihil. With the classical tragedy of Trissino and others he had nothing in common, and if he lived to read or see Sá de Miranda'sCleopatrahe probably had his own very marked opinion as to its value. Dante was, of course, a closed book to him as to most of his contemporaries. With Spanish literature the case is very different. The fourteenth and fifteenth centuries were the most Spanish period of Portuguese literature. TheCancioneiro de Resendeis nearly as Spanish as it is Portuguese. Portuguese poets were, almost without exception, bilingual. The horsemen stationed to bring the news of the wedding from Seville to Evora in 1490 were emblematic of the close relations between the two countries. Men were in continual expectation that they would come to form one kingdom[134]. King Manuel's infant son was heir to Spain and Portugal and the empires in Africa and America.
Vicente's close acquaintance with Spanish literature shows itself at every turn, and if we examine his plays we find but slight traces of the influence of any other literature. His first pieces were written in Spanish,and the Spanish is that of Enzina. Lines and phrases are taken bodily from the Spanish poet and words belonging to the conventionalsayagués(in which there was already a Portuguese element: cf.ollosforojos) placed on the lips ofcharrosby Enzina are transferred from Salamanca to Beira. The Enzina eclogues imitated by Vicente were based on those of Virgil, but in Vicente's imitation there is no vestige of any knowledge of the classics. The only Latin that occurs is the quotation by Gil Terron of three lines from the Bible. A little later the hungryescuderoofQuem tem farelos?was in all probability derived from Spanish literature, either from the Archpriest of Hita'sLibro de Buen Amoror from some popular sketch such as that contained later inLazarillo de Tormes(1554)[135]. The only French element in theAuto da Féis thefatrasieorenselada'which came from France,' but its text is not given. The classical allusions to Virgil and the Judgment of Paris in theAuto das Fadasare perfectly superficial. A little medical Latin is introduced in theFarsa dos Fisicos.O Velho da Horta, which opens with the Lord's Prayer, half in Latin, half in Portuguese[136], is written in Portuguese with the exception of the fragment of song and the lyric¿Cual es la niña?There is a reference to Macias, a name which had become a commonplace in Portuguese poetry as the type of the constant lover. Spanish influence is shown in the introduction of thealcouviteiraBranca Gil, probably suggested by Juan Ruiz'trotaconventosor by Celestina. TheExhortação da Guerrabegins with humorous platitudes,perogrulladas, after the fashion of Enzina. Gil Terron has increased his classical lore, and Trojan and Greek heroes are brought from the underworld, thedramatis personaeincluding Polyxena, Penthesilea, Achilles, Hannibal, Hector and Scipio. The influence of Enzina is still evident in theAuto da Sibila Cassandra, thebellíssimo autowherein Menéndez y Pelayo saw the first germ of the symbolicalautosin which Calderón excelled[137], and in theAuto dos Quatro Tempos. The immediate influence on theBarcasis plainly Spanish, this being especially marked in theBarca da Gloria. When theDiaboaddresses the King:
Nunca aca sentiQue aprovechase aderenciaNi lisonjas, crer mentiras... Ni diamanes ni zafiras (i. 285)
Nunca aca sentiQue aprovechase aderenciaNi lisonjas, crer mentiras... Ni diamanes ni zafiras (i. 285)
he is copying the words of Death in theDanza de la Muerte:
non es tiempo talQue librar vos pueda imperio nin genteOro nin plata nin otro metal[138].
non es tiempo talQue librar vos pueda imperio nin genteOro nin plata nin otro metal[138].
Vicente's Devil taxes the Archbishop with fleecing the poor (i. 294) in much the same words as those of the Spanish Death to the Dean (t. 2, p. 12). The Devil in theBarca do Purgatorio(i. 251) and Death (t. 2, p. 17) both reproach thelabradorwith the same offence: surreptitiously extending the boundaries of his land. It must be admitted that these signs of imitation are more direct than the French traces indicated in the introduction of the 1834 edition of Vicente's works. The whole treatment of theBarcasclosely follows theDanza de la Muerte. The idea of a satirical review of the dead is of course nearly as old as literature. In theBarca da GloriaVicente begins to quote Spanishromances[139], and this is continued on a larger scale in theComedia de Rubena(cf. also the Spanish songs in theCortes de Jupiter) and inDom Duardos, in which reference is also made to two Spanish books, Diego de San Pedro'sCarcel de Amorand Hernando Diaz' translationEl Pelegrino Amador[140]. Maria Parda's will was probably suggested rather by such burlesque testaments as that of the dying mule in theCancioneiro de Resendethan by theTestament de Pathelin. The criticism of thehomens de bom saberseems to have turned Vicente to more peculiarly Portuguese themes in theFarsa de Ines Pereiraand theAuto Pastoril Portugues, and in theFragoa de Amor, written for the new Queen from Spain, he presents national types:serranas, pilgrims, nigger, monk, idiot. In theCiganaswe have a passing reference to 'the white hands of Iseult,' a lady already well known in Spanish and Portuguese literature.Dom Duardosis of course based entirely on a Spanish romance of chivalry. InO Juiz da Beirahe returns to theescudeiroandalcouviteira; the figures are, however, thoroughly Portuguese with the exception of a new Christian from Castille. The title of theNao de Amoresalready existed in Spanish literature[141]. After this we have a group of thoroughly Portuguese plays, those presented at Coimbra, the anticlericalAuto da Feira, theTriunfo do Inverno,O Clerigo da Beira. It is not tillAmadis de Gaulathat Vicente again has recourse to Spanish literature[142], and we may be sure that if he had known of a Portuguese text he would have written his drama in Portuguese.
Although Vicente owed much to Spanish literature we have only tocompare his plays with those of Juan del Enzina or Bartolomé de Torres Naharro, or his first attempts with his later dramas to realize his genius and originality. The variety of his plays is very striking and the farceQuem tem farelos?(1508?), the patrioticExhortação(1513), theBarcatrilogy (1517-9), the religiousAuto da Alma(1518), the three-actComedia de Rubena(1521), the character comedyFarsa de Ines Pereira(1523), the idyllicDom Duardos(1525?) mark new departures in the development of his genius. No doubt his plays are 'totally unlike any regular plays and rude both in design and execution[143].' Vicente divided them into religious plays (obras de devaçam), farces, comedies and tragicomedies, but the kinds overlap and there is nothing to separate some of the comedies and tragicomedies from the farces, while some of the farces are religious both in subject and occasion. How artificial the division was may be seen from the rubric to theBarca do Inferno, which informs us that the play is counted among the religious plays because the second and third parts (Barca do PurgatorioandBarca da Gloria) were represented in the Royal Chapel, although this first part was given in the Queen's chamber, as though the subject and treatment of the three plays were not sufficient to class them together. Again, the rubric of theRomagem de Aggravadosruns: 'The following tragicomedy is a satire.' Really only its length separates it from the early farces. Vicente's plays were a development of the earlier Christmas, Holy Week and Easterrepresentaciones, religious shows to which special pomp was given at King Manuel's Court. When he began to write the classical drama was unknown and it is absurd to judge his work by the Aristotelean theory of the unities of time and place. His idea of drama was not dramatic action nor the development of character but realistic portrayal of types and the contrast between them. His first piece,Auto da Visitaçam, has not even dialogue—its alternative title isO Monologo do Vaqueiro—and for comic element it relies on the contrast between Court and country as shown by the herdsman's gaping wonder. TheAuto Pastoril Castelhanocontains six shepherds and contrasts the serious mystical Gil with his ruder companions.
The action of theAuto dos Reis Magosis as simple as that of the two preceding plays.Quem tem farelos?however is a quite new development. 'The argument,' says the rubric, 'is that a young squire called Aires Rosado played the viola and although his salary [as one of the Court] was very small he was continually in love.' He is contrasted with another pennilessescudeirowho gives himself martial airs and willingly speaks of the heroic deeds of Roncesvalles, but runs away if two cats begin to fight. Only five persons appear on the stage, but with considerable skill Vicente enlarges the scene so as to include a vivid picture of the second squire as described by his servant as well as the barking of dogs, mewing of cats and crowing of cocks and the conversation of Isabel with Rosado, which is conjectured from his answers. No doubt the twomoçosowe something to Sempronio and Parmeno of theCelestina, but this first farce is thoroughly Portuguese and gives us a concrete and living picture of Lisbon manners. Not all the farces have this unity. TheAuto das Fadasloses itself in a long series of verses addressed to the Court. TheFarsa dos Fisicoshas no such extraneous matter: it confines itself to the lovelorn priest and the contrast between the four doctors. TheComedia do Viuvois not a farce and only a comedy by virtue of its happy ending. A merchant of Burgos laments the death of his wife and is comforted by a kindly priest and by a friend who wishes that his own wife were as the merchant's (the simple mediaeval contrast common in Vicente). Meanwhile Don Rosvel, Prince of Huxonia, has fallen in love with both the daughters of the merchant, whom he agrees to serve in all kinds of manual labour as Juan de las Brozas. His brother, Don Gilberto, arrives in search of him and a quaintly charming and technically skilful play ends with a double wedding (the Crown Prince of Portugal, present at the acting of this play, had to decide for Don Rosvel which daughter he should marry).
TheAuto da Famais Vicente's second great hymn to the glory of Portugal. Portuguese Fame, in the person of a humble girl of Beira, is envied and wooed in vain by Castille, France and Italy—England and Holland were then scarcely in the running—and narrates in ringing verses the deeds of the Portuguese in the East, without, however, mentioning the great name of Albuquerque, a name which inspired many of the courtiers with more fear than affection. TheAuto dos Quatro Temposis a pastoral-religious play, the main theme being, as its title indicates, a contrast between the four seasons. David appears as a shepherd and Jupiter also takes a considerable part in the conversation. Action there is none.
Vicente's satirical vein found excellent occasion in the ancient theme of scrutinizing the past lives of men as Death reaps them, high and low, but his profoundly religious temperament raises theBarcasinto an atmosphere of sublime if gloomy splendour, which is surpassed in theAuto da Alma, the most perfect and consistent of his religious plays—even the symbolical character of the latter part can hardly be called a defect. In theComedia de Rubenathe development of Vicente's art is perhaps more superficial than real. It is divided into three long scenes or acts and is thus more like a regular comedy than his other plays. The acts, however, are isolated, the action occupies fifteen years and occurs in Castille, Lisbon and Crete. English readers of the play must be struck by its resemblance toPericles, Prince of Tyre. Written fifty-five years before Lawrence Twine'sThe Patterne of Painful Adventures(1576) and eighty-seven before George Wilkins and William Shakespeare produced their play (1608), theComedia de Rubenais in fact a link in a long chain beginning in a lost fifth century Greek romance concerning Apollonius of Tyre and continued after Gil Vicente's death in Timoneda'sTarsianaand inPericles. Vicente, however, in all probability did not derive his Cismena, cold and chaste predecessor of Marina, from theGesta Romanorumor theLibro de Apoloniobut from the version in John Gower'sConfessio Amantis, of which a translation, as we know, was early available in Portugal. After an exclusively Court piece, theCortes de Jupiter, Vicente wrote theFarsa de Ines Pereira, in which there is more action and development of character than in his preceding, or indeed his subsequent, plays. He represents the aspirations and repentance of Ines, the 'very flighty daughter of a woman of low estate.' Despite the warnings of her sensible mother she rejects the suit of simple and uncouth Pero Marques for that of a gentleman (escudeiro) whose pretensions are far greater than his possessions. The mother gives them a house and retires to a small cottage. But theescudeiromarried confirms the wisdom of the Sibyl Cassandra (i. 40). He keeps his wife shut up 'like a nun of Oudivellas.' The windows are nailed up, she is not allowed to leave the house even to go to church. Thus the hopes and ambitions of Ines Pereira de Grãa are tamed, although she was never a shrew[144]. Presently, however, theescudeiroresolves to cross over to Africa to win his knighthood:
ás partes dalemVou me fazer cavaleiro,
ás partes dalemVou me fazer cavaleiro,
and he leaves his wife imprisoned in their house, the key being entrusted to the servant (moço). Ines, singing at her work, is declaring that if ever she have to choose another husbandon ne m'y prendra pluswhen a letter arrives from her brother announcing that her husband, as he fled from battle towards Arzila, had been killed by a Moorish shepherd. The faithful Pero Marques again presses his suit. He is accepted and is made to suffer the whims and infidelity of the emancipated Ines. The question of women's rights was a burning one in the sixteenth century.
Vicente's versatility enabled him to laugh at his critics to the end of the chapter. InDom Duardoshe gave them an elaborate and very successful dramatization of a Spanish romance of chivalry. The treatment has both unity and lyrical charm. It was so successful that the experiment was repeated in 1533 with the earlier romance ofAmadis de Gaula(1508), out of which Vicente wrought an equally skilful but less fascinating play[145]. But Vicente had not given up writing farces and the sojourn of Ines Pereira's husband in town enables the author to introduce various Lisbon types inO Juiz da Beira. It indeed completely resembles the early farces, while theAuto da Festawith its peasant scene and allegoricalVerdadeis of theAuto da Fétype but adds the theme of the old woman in search of a husband. TheTemplo de Apolo, composed for a special Court occasion, shows no development, but in theSumariowe have a fuller religious play than he had hitherto written. It proves, likeDom Duardos, his power of concentration and his skill in seizing on and emphasizing essential points in a long action (the period here covered is from Adam to Christ[146]). It is closely moulded on the Bible and contains, besides an exquisitevilancete(Adorae montanhas), passages of noble poetry and soaring fervour—Eve's invocation to Adam:
Ó como os ramos do nosso pomarFicam cubertos de celestes rosas (i. 314);
Ó como os ramos do nosso pomarFicam cubertos de celestes rosas (i. 314);
Job's lament 'Man that is born of woman' (i. 324); the paraphrase or rather translation of 'I know that my Redeemer liveth' (i. 322). Nothing here, surely, to warrant the complaints of Sá de Miranda as to the desecration of the Scriptures. This play was followed by theDialogo sobre a Ressurreiçamby way of epilogue; it is a conversation between three Jews and is treated in the cynical manner that Browning brought to similar scenes. TheSumarioorAuto da Historia de Deoswas acted before the Court at Almeirim and must have won the sincere admiration of the devout João III. If the courtiers were less favourably impressed they were mollified by the splendid display of theNao de Amoreswith its much music, its Prince of Normandy and its miniature ship fully rigged. Vicente was now fighting an uphill battle and in theDivisa da Cidade de Coimbrahe attempted a task beyond the strength of a poet and more suitable for a sermon such as Frei Heitor Pinto preached on the same subject: the arms of the city of Coimbra. Even Vicente could not make this a living play; it is, rather, a museum of antiquities and ends with praises of Court families. It is pathetic to find the merry satirist reduced to admitting (in the argument of this play) that merely farcical farces are not very refined. Yet we would willingly give the whole play for another brief farce such asQuem tem farelos?:
Ya sabeis, senhores,Que toda a comedia começa em dolores,E inda que toque cousas lastimeirasSabei que as farças todas chocarreirasNão sam muito finas sem outros primores (ii. 108).
Ya sabeis, senhores,Que toda a comedia começa em dolores,E inda que toque cousas lastimeirasSabei que as farças todas chocarreirasNão sam muito finas sem outros primores (ii. 108).
Fortunately he returned to the plain farce inOs Almocreves, theAuto da FeiraandO Clerigo da Beira(which, however, ends with a series of Court references) with all his old wealth of satire, touches of comedy and vivid portraiture. He also returned to the pastoral play in theSerra da Estrella, while his exquisite lyrism flowers afresh in theTriunfo do Inverno, a tragicomedy which is really a medley of farces. It is not a great drama but it is a typical Vicentian piece, combining vividly sketched types with a splendid lyrical vein. Winter, that banishes the swallows and swells the voice of ocean streams, first triumphs on hills and sea and then Spring comes in singing the lovely lyricDel rosal vengoin the Serra de Sintra. The play ends on a serious and mystic note, for Spring's flowers wither but those of the holy garden of God bloom without fading:
E o santo jardim de DeosFlorece sem fenecer.
E o santo jardim de DeosFlorece sem fenecer.
TheAuto da Lusitaniais divided into two parts, the first of which is complete in itself and gives a description of a Jewish household at Lisbon, while the second is a medley which contains the celebrated scene of Everyman and Noman: Everyman seeks money, worldly honour, praise, life, paradise, lies and flattery; Noman is for conscience, virtue, truth. In theRomagem de Aggravadosthe fashionable and affected Court priest, Frei Paço, is the connecting link for a series of farcical scenes in which a peasant brings his son to become a priest, two noblemen discourse on love, two fishwives lament the excesses of the courtiers, Cerro Ventoso and Frei Narciso betray their mounting ambition, civil and ecclesiastic, the poor farmer Aparicianes implores Frei Paço to make a Court lady of his slovenly daughter, two nuns bewail their fate and two shepherdesses discuss their marriage prospects. TheAuto da Mofina Mendesis especially celebrated because Mofina Mendes, personification of ill-luck, with her pot of oil is the forerunner of La Fontaine'sPierrette et son pot au lait: it was perhaps suggested to Vicente by the tale of Doña Truhana's pot of honey inEl Conde Lucanor; the theme of counting one's chickens before they are hatched also forms the subject of one of thepasos, entitledLas Aceitunas, of the goldbeater of Seville, Lope de Rueda[147]. Vicente's piece consists, like some picture of El Greco, of agloria, called, as Rueda's scenes, apasso, in which appear the Virgin and the Virtues (Prudence, Poverty, Humility and Faith) and an earthly shepherd scene. It is thus a combination of farce and religious and pastoral play. Vicente's last play, theFloresta de Enganos, is composed of scenes so disconnected that one of them is even omitted in the summary given after the first deceit: that in which a popular traditional theme, derived directly or indirectly from a French (perhaps originally Italian) source,Les Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles, is presented, akin to that so piquantly narrated by Alarcón inEl Sombrero de Tres Picosin the nineteenth century, the judge playing the part of the Corregidor and the malicious and sensible servant-girl that of the miller's wife.
In these last plays we see little or no advance: there is no attempt at unity or development of plot. We cannot deny that the creator of the penniless-splendid nobleman and the mincing courtier-priest and the author of such touches as the death of Ines' husband or the sudden ignominious flight of the judge possessed a true vein of comedy, but he remained to the end not technically a great dramatist but a wonderful lyric poet and a fascinating satirical observer of life. His influence was felt throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries in Portugal, by Camões and in the plays of Chiado, Prestes and a score of less celebrated dramatists, as well as in a considerable number of anonymous plays, but confined itself to theauto, which, combated by the followers of the classical drama and the Latin plays of the Jesuits, soon tended to deteriorate and lose its charm. In Spain his influence would seem to have been more widely felt, which is not surprising when we remember how many of his plays were Spanish in origin or language[148]. We may be sure that Lope de Rueda was acquainted with his plays and that several of them were known to Cervantes—the servant Benita insisting on telling her simple stories to her afflicted mistress is Sancho Panza to the life:
Benita.Diz que era un escudero....Rubena.O quien no fuera nacida:¿Viendome salir la vidaParaste a contar patrañas?Benita.Pues otra sé de un carnero....
Benita.Diz que era un escudero....Rubena.O quien no fuera nacida:¿Viendome salir la vidaParaste a contar patrañas?Benita.Pues otra sé de un carnero....
Lope de Vega was likewise certainly familiar with some of Vicente's plays. If we consider these passages inEl Viaje del Alma, therepresentación moralcontained inEl Peregrino en su Patria(1604), we must be convinced that the trilogy ofBarcas, theAuto da Alma, and perhaps theNao de Amoreswere not unknown to him:
Alma para Dios criadaY hecha a imagen de Dios, etc.;Hoy la Nave del deleiteSe quiere hacer a la mar:¿Hay quien se quiera embarcar?;Esta es la Nave donde cabeTodo contento y placer[149].
Alma para Dios criadaY hecha a imagen de Dios, etc.;Hoy la Nave del deleiteSe quiere hacer a la mar:¿Hay quien se quiera embarcar?;Esta es la Nave donde cabeTodo contento y placer[149].
The alleged imitation by Calderón inEl Lirio y la Azucenais perhaps more doubtful. Vicente was already half forgotten in Calderon's day. In the artificial literature of the eighteenth century he suffered total eclipse although Correa Garção was able to appreciate him, nor need we see any direct influence in that of the nineteenth[150]except that on Almeida Garrett: the similar passages in Goethe'sFaustand Cardinal Newman'sDream of Gerontiuswere no doubt purely accidental. Happily, however, we are able to point to a certain influence of the great national poet of Portugal on some of the Portuguese poets of the twentieth century. The promised edition of his plays will increase this influence and render him secure from that neglect which during three centuries practically deprived Portugal and the world of one of the most charming and inspired of the world's poets.