He 'gainst a wise and potent king that heldHis sire in bondage, gallantly rebelled.
He 'gainst a wise and potent king that heldHis sire in bondage, gallantly rebelled.
He 'gainst a wise and potent king that heldHis sire in bondage, gallantly rebelled.
During one of the many tumults that distracted Castile in the reign of king D. Juan II. Fernando Alvarez de Toledo, earl of Alva, was seized by the monarch, and kept close prisoner, under the charge of having designed to bring in the king of Navarre, though this the people regarded as a mere invention. Don Garcia, his son, who was afterwards the first duke of Alva, took up arms to liberate his father, joined the king of Arragon, and from the castle of Piedrahita, did much harm to the king of Castile in laying waste the frontier country. Don Fernando remained, however, in prison till the accession of king Henry, when he was voluntarily set free by that prince.
D. Fadrique de Toledo, the second duke of Alva, a son of D. Garcia, was in his youth general of the Christian forces on the frontiers of Grenada. He greatly signalized himself in the war of Navarre, gathering a considerable force to co-operate with the English, under the commandof the marquis of Dorset. To secure the pass into France, he crossed the mountains and took St. John de Pie de Puerto, which commanded the pass of Valderronças. The king of Navarre succeeded, however, in effecting a passage with his army through that of Valderronçal, and J. Fernando Valdez, and other commanders, amongst the mountains, hemmed in the duke of Alva; but learning that the king of Navarre was marching to invest Pampluna, the Duke resolved to fling some succour into its citadel, and leaving the castle of St. John under the command of James de Vera, sallied out upon Valdez, and killing that general, succeeded, with the loss of 400 men, in carrying his camp, and relieving Pampluna.
His son, D. Garcia de Toledo, being employed in 1510, with count Pedro Navarro, in a military expedition on the coast of Africa, passed to the conquest of the Isle of Gelves, and disembarking his men, penetrated into the interior of that desert country. It was a season of such excessive heat, that some of the soldiers dropped dead from thirst, so that the whole army fell into disorder. D. Garcia and the Count, however, cheered them on with fond expressions, and such promises as the necessity of the case required. They issued at length from the sands, and entering thick groves of palm and olive trees, discovered unexpectedly some wells of water, with many pitchers and buckets attached to ropes. The eager desire of every one to drink doubled the disorder, more particularly as there was no enemy in sight; for the whole had been arranged by the Moors, who secretly waited in a corner of the wood, till the appearance of 4,000 foot and 200 horse, when they rushed upon them with loud outcries, and casting their darts, caused them to fly in the greatest confusion,although many desired rather to drink than to fly, or even live. Don Garcia seeing this, alighted, and with his pike pricked forward many who had, betwixt despair and faintness, cast themselves on the ground, and with every expression of military endearment, endeavoured to animate them against the Moors. With only fifteen around him, he attacked the foe with such brave impetuosity, that they began to give way, and if at this juncture he had been supported by the rest, he would assuredly have furnished triumph instead of tribulation to his country. But whilst Navarro was attempting to bring back the fugitive troops, the Moors made a fresh attack on his little band, wounded several, and killed D. Garcia. His death doubled the terror and distress of all, and notwithstanding that Navarro implored them with tears to turn their faces, they fled with the utmost precipitation to their vessels: and hence they still say in Castile, 'Mother Gelves, the spell-word of misfortune!'[AU]
The Emperor Charles the Fifth, on the taking of Tunis, discovered amongst the booty the arms of Don Garcia, and presented them to his youthful son, afterwards the celebrated duke of Alva. Pointing out to him the marks of wounds received by his unfortunate parent, he exhorted him to imitate his valour, but wished him a happier doom. The duke received these arms with the most lively joy, and caused them to be transported to Spain, and hung up in the arsenal of the dukes of Alva.[AV]
Threatening the' illustrious youth, a knight was seen,Of a fierce spirit and insulting mien.
Threatening the' illustrious youth, a knight was seen,Of a fierce spirit and insulting mien.
Threatening the' illustrious youth, a knight was seen,Of a fierce spirit and insulting mien.
It happened that a gentleman of Burgos courted a lady to whom Fernando of Alva also paid his addresses. It was in the year 1524, when harquebusses were just coming into use, but they were considered as very ungentlemanly weapons to do slaughter with, by those who had been trained to the exercises of the sword. This gentleman boasted that he was a most excellent firer of the harquebuss, when, being both in the presence of the lady, Fernando took out his pocket handkerchief, and putting it to his nose, exclaimed, "What an odious fume of powder there is in the room!" at which the lady smiled greatly, and the gentleman's face became overspread with blushes. Taking the duke afterwards aside, he challenged him to meet him with sword and capa, at a certain hour of the night, on the bridge San Pablo. The duke arriving, his rival asked him what arms he brought. "Sword and dagger." "I have but a sword," rejoined the gentleman; whereupon the duke threw his dagger into the river. They fought—were reconciled, and agreed to conceal the duel; but it soon became the theme of conversation, for on taking up their mantles from the ground, they chanced to make an exchange; and the duke, paying no attention to it, appeared in the palace with his opponent's mantle, upon which were emblazoned the arms of the Order of St. Jago, which led to a discovery of the whole quarrel.
The city of Toledo.
Mosen Dural, a distinguished gentleman of Barcelona, and Grand-Treasurer of the city.
The title of this Ode is derived from a quarter of the city of Naples, called Il Seggio de Gnido, the favourite abode then of people of fashion, in which also the lady lived to whom the Ode was addressed. This lady, Violante San Severino, a daughter of the duke of Soma, was courted by Fabio Galeota, a friend of Garcilasso, in whose behalf the poem was written. In the original, Garcilasso plays upon the names of the parties, comparing the paleness of the lover, not to the lily, but to the whiteviolet, and representing him as agalleyslave in the boat, or, to speak more poetically, the shell in which the Queen of Beauty at her birth sailed along the ocean. If I have been guilty of preserving any trace of this idle play upon words, it is only that it has chimed in necessarily with the sense. Mention is made by Sanchez, of an elegy addressed by Fabio to Violante, beginning
Andate senza me, chara Violante?Wilt thou then go without me, in thy wrath,Dear Violante?
Andate senza me, chara Violante?Wilt thou then go without me, in thy wrath,Dear Violante?
Andate senza me, chara Violante?
Wilt thou then go without me, in thy wrath,Dear Violante?
the pathos of which has led me to look for it, but without success, in various old collections of Tuscan verses.
As none of the commentators of Garcilasso offer a word in explanation of these verses, it was difficult to conceiveexactly either to what they alluded, or what had given rise to them. I find, however, in Boscán who has written on the same text, a complete elucidation. They were sported on Don Luis de la Cueva, for dancing in the palace with a lady who was called La Páxara—the bird, probably from the elegance with which she flew down the dance;[AW]it would appear that D. Luis fell whilst attempting a difficult step, and that in reply to the universal banter of the assembly, he had unfortunately said, it was after all no great crime in him to dance. This seems to have excited great amusement, and to have set a number of gentlemen, and some titled heads to work, to write bad verses to prove the contrary. As, however, these verses show some wit, and at the same time best serve to clear up the obscurity of my author, I subjoin translations.
THE DUKE OF ALVA.
Why, what a terrible affairIs this! you were too bad by half;You've really made it, I declare,Yourbusinessto make people laugh.I'm one who feels it! to see you,Of all men, to the Bird advance!I counsel you, whate'er you do,You take no farther careto dance.
Why, what a terrible affairIs this! you were too bad by half;You've really made it, I declare,Yourbusinessto make people laugh.I'm one who feels it! to see you,Of all men, to the Bird advance!I counsel you, whate'er you do,You take no farther careto dance.
Why, what a terrible affairIs this! you were too bad by half;You've really made it, I declare,Yourbusinessto make people laugh.I'm one who feels it! to see you,Of all men, to the Bird advance!I counsel you, whate'er you do,You take no farther careto dance.
GARCILASSO.
Count they then this a great offence, &c.
Count they then this a great offence, &c.
Count they then this a great offence, &c.
THE PRIOR OF SANTISTÉVAN.
It might not be a first-rate sin,But all who dance like this good knight,Must pay for it most surely inThe laugh of even the most polite.Let those who wish to dance, not takeHimfor an omen! He advanced,And practised—but, for mercy's sake,Let not the gallant sayhe danced!
It might not be a first-rate sin,But all who dance like this good knight,Must pay for it most surely inThe laugh of even the most polite.Let those who wish to dance, not takeHimfor an omen! He advanced,And practised—but, for mercy's sake,Let not the gallant sayhe danced!
It might not be a first-rate sin,But all who dance like this good knight,Must pay for it most surely inThe laugh of even the most polite.Let those who wish to dance, not takeHimfor an omen! He advanced,And practised—but, for mercy's sake,Let not the gallant sayhe danced!
BOSCÁN.
He touched forbidden fruit—the debtMust thus be paid—he danced! and now'Tis clear he'll live but by the sweat,Henceforth, of his laborious brow.Himself he cruelly deceived,And well he might, when, countenancedBy such assurance, he conceivedWe laughed, because hemerely danced.
He touched forbidden fruit—the debtMust thus be paid—he danced! and now'Tis clear he'll live but by the sweat,Henceforth, of his laborious brow.Himself he cruelly deceived,And well he might, when, countenancedBy such assurance, he conceivedWe laughed, because hemerely danced.
He touched forbidden fruit—the debtMust thus be paid—he danced! and now'Tis clear he'll live but by the sweat,Henceforth, of his laborious brow.Himself he cruelly deceived,And well he might, when, countenancedBy such assurance, he conceivedWe laughed, because hemerely danced.
D. FERNANDO ALVAREZ DE TOLEDO.
This gentleman would quite have lostHis credit in this curious case,Had not the little Bird he crossedSo sweetly sang him into grace.But if from this he turns away,And shows at all discountenanced,I'd wish to comfort him, and say,As he says, thathe only danced!
This gentleman would quite have lostHis credit in this curious case,Had not the little Bird he crossedSo sweetly sang him into grace.But if from this he turns away,And shows at all discountenanced,I'd wish to comfort him, and say,As he says, thathe only danced!
This gentleman would quite have lostHis credit in this curious case,Had not the little Bird he crossedSo sweetly sang him into grace.But if from this he turns away,And shows at all discountenanced,I'd wish to comfort him, and say,As he says, thathe only danced!
THE TREASURER OF ALCANTARA.
All were astonished that the kingSo quickly freed you, but he freedYou, not to be in that bright ringSo very forward; no, indeed!Right forward has he been, but yetWhy laugh with such extravagance?Heonlymaims a pirouette,Heonlydislocatesa dance.
All were astonished that the kingSo quickly freed you, but he freedYou, not to be in that bright ringSo very forward; no, indeed!Right forward has he been, but yetWhy laugh with such extravagance?Heonlymaims a pirouette,Heonlydislocatesa dance.
All were astonished that the kingSo quickly freed you, but he freedYou, not to be in that bright ringSo very forward; no, indeed!Right forward has he been, but yetWhy laugh with such extravagance?Heonlymaims a pirouette,Heonlydislocatesa dance.
D. LUIS OSORIO.
Know that the laws, to his disgrace,Condemn Don Luis now to fall,For (only think) he had the faceTo dance in the king's palace-hall!Dance with the Bird! oh fatal even!And yet, as he seems circumstanced,He ought perhaps to be forgiven,Since, as he says,he only danced.
Know that the laws, to his disgrace,Condemn Don Luis now to fall,For (only think) he had the faceTo dance in the king's palace-hall!Dance with the Bird! oh fatal even!And yet, as he seems circumstanced,He ought perhaps to be forgiven,Since, as he says,he only danced.
Know that the laws, to his disgrace,Condemn Don Luis now to fall,For (only think) he had the faceTo dance in the king's palace-hall!Dance with the Bird! oh fatal even!And yet, as he seems circumstanced,He ought perhaps to be forgiven,Since, as he says,he only danced.
D. GARCIA DE TOLEDO.
The Emperor set you free, but notWithout a rigorous penance had,Sentencing you upon the spotTo dance—it really was too bad!All say it was a cruel thing,Beyond all mortal sufferance,For 'tis not just in any kingTo' oblige his subjectsso to dance!
The Emperor set you free, but notWithout a rigorous penance had,Sentencing you upon the spotTo dance—it really was too bad!All say it was a cruel thing,Beyond all mortal sufferance,For 'tis not just in any kingTo' oblige his subjectsso to dance!
The Emperor set you free, but notWithout a rigorous penance had,Sentencing you upon the spotTo dance—it really was too bad!All say it was a cruel thing,Beyond all mortal sufferance,For 'tis not just in any kingTo' oblige his subjectsso to dance!
Dum reges, Fernande, canis, dum Cæsaris altamProgeniem nostri, claraque facta Ducum,Dum Hispanâ memoras fractas sub cuspide gentes,Obstupuere homines, obstupuere Dii;Extollensque caput sacri de vertice PindiCalliope blandis vocibus hæc retulit:Macte puer, geminâ præcinctus tempora lauroQui nova nunc Martis gloria solus eras;Hæc tibi dat Bacchusque pater, dat Phœbus Apollo,Nympharumque leves, Castalidumque chori,Ut, quos divino celebrâsti carmine Reges,Teque simul curvâ qui canis alma lyrâ,Sæpe legant, laudent, celebrent post fata nepotes,Nullaque perpetuos nox fuget atra dies.
Dum reges, Fernande, canis, dum Cæsaris altamProgeniem nostri, claraque facta Ducum,Dum Hispanâ memoras fractas sub cuspide gentes,Obstupuere homines, obstupuere Dii;Extollensque caput sacri de vertice PindiCalliope blandis vocibus hæc retulit:Macte puer, geminâ præcinctus tempora lauroQui nova nunc Martis gloria solus eras;Hæc tibi dat Bacchusque pater, dat Phœbus Apollo,Nympharumque leves, Castalidumque chori,Ut, quos divino celebrâsti carmine Reges,Teque simul curvâ qui canis alma lyrâ,Sæpe legant, laudent, celebrent post fata nepotes,Nullaque perpetuos nox fuget atra dies.
Dum reges, Fernande, canis, dum Cæsaris altamProgeniem nostri, claraque facta Ducum,Dum Hispanâ memoras fractas sub cuspide gentes,Obstupuere homines, obstupuere Dii;Extollensque caput sacri de vertice PindiCalliope blandis vocibus hæc retulit:Macte puer, geminâ præcinctus tempora lauroQui nova nunc Martis gloria solus eras;Hæc tibi dat Bacchusque pater, dat Phœbus Apollo,Nympharumque leves, Castalidumque chori,Ut, quos divino celebrâsti carmine Reges,Teque simul curvâ qui canis alma lyrâ,Sæpe legant, laudent, celebrent post fata nepotes,Nullaque perpetuos nox fuget atra dies.
This is the only specimen extant of Garcilasso's Latin compositions, which are spoken of by several writers of his day as marked by extreme elegance, and amongst others by Tansillo: nor can I close my volume, written in the hope of placing in the clear light it deserves the merit of this amiable poet, with more propriety and grace, than by adopting the words of one who loved him for his virtues, and admired him for his genius.
Spirto gentil, che con la cetra al collo,La spada al fianco, ogn'or la penna in mano,Per sentier gite, che non pùr Hispano,Ma Latin pie fra noi raro segnollo!Felice voi, ch'or Marte, ed or Apollo,Or Mercurio seguendo, fuor del piano,V'andate a por del volgo si lontano,Che man d'invidia non vi puo dar crollo,—Tutte le chiuse vie, sassose, ed erte,Che vanno al tempio, ove il morir si spregia,Spianate innanzi a voi sono, ed aperte.E perchè vadan per la strada egregiaVostre virtù d'abito altier coverte,Bellezza, e nobiltà l'adorna, e fregia.
Spirto gentil, che con la cetra al collo,La spada al fianco, ogn'or la penna in mano,Per sentier gite, che non pùr Hispano,Ma Latin pie fra noi raro segnollo!Felice voi, ch'or Marte, ed or Apollo,Or Mercurio seguendo, fuor del piano,V'andate a por del volgo si lontano,Che man d'invidia non vi puo dar crollo,—Tutte le chiuse vie, sassose, ed erte,Che vanno al tempio, ove il morir si spregia,Spianate innanzi a voi sono, ed aperte.E perchè vadan per la strada egregiaVostre virtù d'abito altier coverte,Bellezza, e nobiltà l'adorna, e fregia.
Spirto gentil, che con la cetra al collo,La spada al fianco, ogn'or la penna in mano,Per sentier gite, che non pùr Hispano,Ma Latin pie fra noi raro segnollo!Felice voi, ch'or Marte, ed or Apollo,Or Mercurio seguendo, fuor del piano,V'andate a por del volgo si lontano,Che man d'invidia non vi puo dar crollo,—Tutte le chiuse vie, sassose, ed erte,Che vanno al tempio, ove il morir si spregia,Spianate innanzi a voi sono, ed aperte.E perchè vadan per la strada egregiaVostre virtù d'abito altier coverte,Bellezza, e nobiltà l'adorna, e fregia.
FOOTNOTES:[A]Tablas, in allusion to those celebrated calculations drawn up under the superintendence of this monarch, and called, after him, theAlphonsine Tables, a work truly extraordinary for the age.[B]Some learned men question whether these two works do actually belong to the time and author to whom they are ascribed; and the improvement which the versification and language present, forms a very strong presumption in favour of this doubt.[C]"Again and yet again do I deploreThis injury; dissatisfied CastileHas lost a treasure, whose rare worth, I feel,The thoughtless nation never knew before.She lost thy books, all unappreciated!In funeral expiation some were thrownTo the devouring flames, and others strewnAbout, in ruinous disorder spread.Surely, in Athens, the false books of fledProtagoras, esteemed so reprobate,Were to the fire consigned with greater state,When to the angry Senate they were read."[D]Macías was a gentleman of the Grand Master's, Don Enrique de Villena. Among the ladies who attended on this nobleman was one with whose beauty our poet became captivated; and neither the seeing her married to another, the reproofs of the Grand Master, nor, in fact, the prison into which he ordered him to be consigned, could conquer his fatal attachment. The husband, fired with wrath, concerted with the alcaide of the tower in which his rival was imprisoned, and found means to dart at him, through a window, the lance he bore, and with it pierced him to the heart. Macías was at that moment singing one of the songs he had composed upon his mistress, and thus expired with her name and love upon his lips. The two qualities of troubadour and lover united in him, made him an object of celebrity, and almost of reverence, with the poets of the age. Most of them celebrated him, and his name, to which was joined the title ofEnamorado, is still proverbial, as a designation for devoted lovers. The reader will not be displeased to see the verses which Mena devoted to him in theLaberinto: they may serve to show the character of that poet's fancy."We in this radiant circle looked so long,That we found out Macías; in a bowerOf cypress, was he weeping still the hourThat ended his dark life and love in wrong.Nearer I drew, for sympathy was strongIn me, when I perceived he was from Spain;And there I heard him sing the saddest strainThat e'er was tuned in elegiac song.'Love crowned me with his myrtle crown; my nameWill be pronounced by many, but, alas,When his pangs caused me bliss, not slighter wasThe mournful suffering that consumed my frame!His sweet snares conquer the lorn mind they tame,But do not always then continue sweet;And since they caused me ruin so complete,Turn, lovers, turn, and disesteem his flame:Danger so passionate be glad to miss;Learn to be gay; flee, flee from sorrow's touch;Learn to disserve him you have served so much,Your devoirs pay at any shrine but his:If the short joy that in his service is,Were but proportioned to the long, long pain,Neither would he that once has loved, complain,Nor he that ne'er has loved despair of bliss.But even as some assassin or night-rover,Seeing his fellow wound upon the wheel,Awed by the agony, resolves with zealHis life to' amend, and character recover;But when the fearful spectacle is over,Reacts his crimes with easy unconcern:So my amours on my despair return,That I should die, as I have lived, a lover!'"[E]This song of Santillana, not entirely devoid either of grace or pathos, may serve as a specimen of the manner in which these writers applied their learning.1.First shall the singing spheres be dumb,And cease their rolling motion,Alecto pitiful become,And Pluto move devotion,Ere to thy virtues, printed deepWithin my heart, I proveThoughtless, or leave thine eyes to weep,My soul, my life, my love!2.Successful Cæsar first shall ceaseTo fight for an ovation,And force defenced PriamedesTo sign a recantation,Ere, my sweet idol, thou shalt fret,Neglect in me to trace,Ere I one lineament forgetIn all that charming face.3.Sinon shall guilelessly behave,Thais with virtue, CupidMeekly—Sardanapalus brave,And Solomon grow stupid,Ere, gentle creature, from my mindThine image flits away,Whose evermore I am, resignedThy biddings to obey.4.Swart Ethiopia shall grow chillWith wintry congelation,Cold Scythia hot, and Scylla stillHer boiling tide's gyration,Ere my charmed spirit shall have powerTo tear itself away,In freedom, but for one short hour,From thy celestial sway.5.Lions and tigers shall make peaceWith lambs, and play together,Sands shall be counted, and deep seasGrow dry in rainy weather,Ere Fortune shall the influence haveTo make my soul resignIts bliss, and call itself the slaveOf any charms but thine.6.For thou the magnet art, and IThe needle, oh my beauty!And every hour thou draw'st me nigh,In voluntary duty;Nor is this wonderful, for callThe proudest, she will feelThat thou the mirror art of allThe ladies in Castile.[F]The Spaniards callquebradothose shorter verses which are, as it were,brokenfrom, and intermingled with theirredondillas mayores, or octosyllabic lines, as for example:"Recuerde el alma adormida,Avive el seso y despierte,ContemplandoComo se pasa la vida,Como se viene la muerte,Tan callando."Manrique.They do not however strike an English ear as destitute of harmony, but it is a harmony that in any long composition would become very monotonous.[G]These signs I think sufficient for my purpose. Whoso desires yet farther proofs may compare the ode of Torre, which begins "Sale de la sagrada," with the two canciones of Quevedo, "Pues quitas primavera al año el ceño," and "Dulce señora mia," placed inEuterpe, whence Velasquez took the verses which he cites here and there in his discourse, to prove the resemblance. He may do more; he may look inMelpomenefor the funeral Silva of the Turtle, and compare it with the very beautiful cancion of Torre, to the same bird. What a troublesome ingenuity, what exaggeration, what hyperbole, what coldness in the first; what melancholy, tenderness, and sentiment in the second! It is quite impossible that the same object could produce an inspiration so different in the same fancy. The example of Lope is cited, in the poetry of Burguillos; but the real and absolute similarity that exists between these verses and the diction of Lope and Burguillos, notwithstanding the difference of subject and character, the insinuation of Lope himself, that of Quevedo in his approbation of the same poems, the conclusive authority of Montalban and Antonio de Leon, friends and cotemporaries of Lope, who attribute them to him, make the identity of Lope with Burguillos as evident, as the reasons already alleged do the diversity of Francisco de Torre and Quevedo.[H]Luis de Leon, although a native of Granada, finished his studies and lived in Salamanca, and consequently does not contradict this general observation.[I]The meaning of this term will be fully understood by the English reader, when he is reminded of the style of writing which was prevalent in the time of Elizabeth, under the name of Euphuism; rich specimens whereof are exhibited by the author of Waverley, in the delectable speeches of sir Piercie Shafton.[J]"But when to lash loose vices you aspire,And seek to catch the true satiric fire,All others' leaves pass over, all neglect,But Juvenal's, the shrewd and circumspect;None to the high court-taste with such successFeels the town's pulse—ev'n Horace's is less."[K]"What of the swain Anchises shall I say,But ask Idalian Venus by the wayWho is the gardener of those flowers of hers,Or Ida's pencil who her fancy stirs?Did not Ulysses farm the watery waste?How then could he Calypso's fruitage taste?"What ridiculous nonsense! Will any one believe that these are by the same author, and found in the same piece as the following?—"Come, then, fair mountaineer, hide not nor flee,Thou, by thy marriage with this stream, shalt beQueen of the sweetest waves that in their sweepLove to give lustre to the shady deep.'Tis just that thou respond to love's light pain,With kind acknowledgment, not coy disdain."[L]One of his sapphics is written with so much delicacy and beauty that I cannot resist the temptation of translating it.To the Zephyr."Sweet neighbour of the green, leaf-shaking grove,Eternal guest of April, frolic childOf a sad sire, life-breath of mother Love,Favonius, zephyr mild!If thou hast learned like me to love—away!Thou who hast borne the murmurs of my cry;Hence—no demur—and to my Flora say,Say that 'I die!''Flora once knew what bitter tears I shed;Flora once wept to see my sorrows flow;Flora once loved me, but I dread, I dreadHer anger now.'So may the Gods, so may the calm blue sky,For the fair time that thou, in gentle mirth,Sport'st in the air, with love benign denySnows to the earth!So never may the grey cloud's cumbrous sail,When from on high the rosy daybreak springs,Beat on thy shoulders, nor its evil hailWound thy fine wings!"[M]"Spanish Anacreon! none your Highness meets,But says most courteously, that though your linesMove elegiacally sad, your sweetsHave all the tasty syrup of new wines!They say that they should like to see each songWith scrupulous exactness, for a freak,Translated well into Anacreon's tongue,Your honest eyes not having seen the Greek."Góngora."Although he said that all would hide from shame,When the fine splendours of his genius came."Lope.[N]The eclogue of Tirsi of Figueroa, and the translation of the Aminta by Jauregui, are the only exceptions to this general decision, and the only examples that can be quoted among the ancient Spanish poets, of blank verse well constructed.[O]The Asonante is a sort of imperfect rhyme peculiar to the Spaniards; it consists in the uniformity of the two last vowels, counting from the accent, as for example:Tras una mariposaQual zagalejosímpleCorriendo por el valleLa senda á perdervíne.Their perfect rhymes are termedConsonantes.[P]Until the surety comes whom I obligeWith myJerusalem, which I indite,Prune, polish, and correct from morn till night.Epistle to Gaspar de Barrionuevo.What ideas of taste, correctness, elegance, and order, must the writer have had, who with such diligence and study, produced so wild a work![Q]If my free neck had not been brokeTo strict necessity's hard yoke,I should have seen around my headSome honour due to merit shed,That would have given, as honour goes,Green lustre to its hoary snows.I ever have invoked the laughOf the vile vulgar on behalfOf love-intrigues, meet or unmeet,Oft dashed off at a single heat;So—but far less impolitic,Great painters daub their canvass quick.Lope;Eclogue to Claudio.[R]Achilles' pictured wrath to Greece,In gold-illumined palacesDecorum kept, vile flatterers shamed,The headstrong youth with love inflamed,The beauteous lady under banOf some stern sire, the rich old manShrewd and sententious as a Jew,To whom are these creations due?[S]After his death, Calderon, Moreto, and others, who in his lifetime were contented with the title of his pupils, eclipsed him in the scene, though his name was always respected as a writer. This respect was, however, daily diminishing under a more attentive observation of the principles of taste and of good models, till the representation in later days of some of his comedies with general applause served to re-establish his tottering reputation. In France, a very good translation of some of his poems, has within these few years been made by the Marquis d'Aguilar; and in England, a man respectable as well for rank and character as for learning, philosophy, and taste (Lord Holland), has published an excellent essay and criticism on his life and writings. A vicissitude sufficiently singular; and which at least proves, that although Lope may be a very faulty writer, he is yet very far from being an object of but little interest in the history of Spanish literature.[T]Three odes of Herrera, and some fragments little interesting, are no more than an exception of this general position. Neither the Gulf of Lepanto, nor the Carolea, nor the Austriada, approach at all near to the dignity and importance of their subjects. Even in the Araucana itself, if there is any thing well painted, it is not the Spaniards, but the Indians.[U]The author of that very delightful old work, half romance, half history, Las Guerras Civiles de Granada, whence Bishop Percy translated the ballad, "Gentle river, gentle river," has introduced amongst others aRomancewhich perpetuates this action; only that he attributes it to the father of Garcilasso the poet, saying that it was performed by that personage in his youth, during the siege of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella. But this is evidently a great mistake, as the surname De la Vega is ascribed to the family in chronicles of a far earlier time. This contradiction could not escape Lord Holland's perspicacity; he makes mention of it in his life of Lope de Vega, but seems somewhat disposed to doubt the truth of the story altogether, as it is related, he observes, of another knight, with little variation, in the Chronicle of Alonzo the Eleventh. But I would say, with great deference to the judgment that dictated this remark, that the popular ballads of a nation generally take their rise from some event of commanding interest, universally recognised at the time as true, and like our own beautiful ballad of Chevy Chase, perpetuate the memory thereof to long posterity, with the authority and assuredness of history. The language of this ballad, it is true, precludes us from giving it a date of greater antiquity than the author of the above imaginative work; and it may be rational to suppose that finding a Garcilasso at the siege of Granada, he chose to embellish his book as well as his hero, by ascribing to him the deed, known either from its mention in the chronicle or from current tradition. But a full confirmation of the truth of the story is, I think, to be found in the family arms; they bear,or, the wordsAve Maria, Gracia Plena, per pale in lettersazure; and the house of Mendoza show the same words in their scutcheon, only per pale a bend dexter, assumed, I am inclined to think, on the marriage of D. Diego Hurtado de Mendoza with Leonora de la Vega. I at one time thought that the incident specified in the Chronicle of Alonzo the Eleventh, might refer to the Garcilasso so favoured by that monarch, more particularly as Mariana gives him the surname; but subsequent research satisfies me in ascribing it to his son, which I do on the authority of Sandoval. Appended to the Chronicle of Alonzo the Wise in the British Museum, is a work by this historian with MS. notes of his own, under this title: Genealogies de algunos grandes Cavalleros que florecieron en tiempo de Don Alonzo VII. Emperador de España. Cuyos descendientes ay oy dia A. D. 1600, por Fr. Prudencio de Sandoval, predicador de la orden de San Benito. His words I have translated in the text, and there is a MS. note in the margin to much the same effect. I should have been glad to give the incident alluded to by Lord Holland, but the chronicle I consulted was printed so villanously in Gothic type, that it is little wonder I missed finding it: the reader may not however be displeased to see a translation of the Romance.[3][V]Don Nicolas Antonio: Bibliotheca Hispana. Art. Garcias Lassus.[W]Don T. Tamaio de Vargas. Anotaciones, p. 45.[X]Pelegrin. Hispania Bibliotheca, p. 579.[Y]Sandoval: Historia de Carlos V. vol. i. fol. 428.[Z]Sandoval, l. v. fol. 211.[AA]Sandoval, lib. v. fol. 214, 274.[AB]Sismondi, Histoire des Républiques Italiennes, t. xv. p. 47.[AC]June 11th, 1525.[AD]Naugerii Opera; Viaggio in Ispagna, p. 352.[AE]Las Obras de Boscán y algunas de Garcilasso de la Vega, 1547.[AF]Herrera. Anotaciones, fol. 15.[AG]Jovii Fragmentum, p. 119, 120. Brit. Mus.[AH]Lettere di M. Pietro Bembo, vol. i.[AI]Petri Bembi Epistolæ, lib. vi.[AJ]Bellaii Comment. lib. vi. p. 277.[AK]Imhof. Histoire de Trente Fam. d'Espagne, p. 131.[AL]There is a copy of this first edition in the British Museum, printed in old English characters.[AM]It was supposed originally that Nemoroso was intended to represent Boscán, and that the word was formed from an allusion to his name, Bosque—nemus, as that of Salicio is an anagram of Garcilasso. Herrera was the first that combated this opinion, applying the name to Don Antonio de Fonseca, the husband of Donna Isabel Freyre, who died in childbed. [Anotaciones, p. 409, 410.] From that time this became the prevailing supposition, till D. Luis Zapata in his Miscellanea affirmed, in contradiction of it, that Antonio de Fonseca was at no time intimate with Garcilasso, whilst Boscán had been the suitor, or servidor of Donna Isabel before her marriage, to whom it is highly probable the verses in the first book of his poems were addressed, beginning—"Señora Doña Isabel,Tan cruelEs la vida que consiento,Que no mata mi tormento," &c.For my own part, setting aside the circumstance that Nemoroso, in the second eclogue, in describing the urn of Tormes passes a handsome eulogy on Boscán, a circumstance which does not necessarily enter into the consideration, I am inclined to believe that it was Boscán who was signified, and moreover, that the eclogue was designed to commemorate the sadness they both felt in the memory of their first loves.[AN]To obviate as much as possible the effect of this error, I have divided it into threesilvas, a term quite common in Spanish, and which in a scholar's ear may, as applied to the divisions of an eclogue, have a better grace than any other that could be adopted.[AO]"Questa battaglia sensibile tra la Ragione e il Senso, mi fa pur sovvenire d' alcuni bellissimi versi di Garcilasso de la Vega, uno de piu riguardevoli poeti della Spagna. Racconta egli in una sua Canzone, come senza avvedersene s' innamorò:Estava yo a mirar, i peleandoEn mi defensa mi Razon estaba," &c.Della Perfetta Poesia Italiana.[AP]Scelta di Poesie Castigliane tradotte in verso Toscano, e illustrate dal Conte Giovambatista Conti. 3 Tomi. Madrid, 1782.[AQ]Vol. i. p. cclxv.[AR]Aristotle: Ethici, lib. viii. c. 3.[AS]A Valencian troubadour of the fifteenth century.[AT]This elegant little piece has been already translated by Mr. Moore, in the notes to his Anacreon; I should not have thought of attempting it after him, had not the heroic measure which he has chosen struck me as less fitted to convey the playfulness of the original than a lighter, though more diffusive stanza.[AU]Sandoval, l. i. cap. 40, p. 30.[AV]Histoire du Duc d'Albe, l. i. ch. 10. p. 32.[AW]Páxaro, or Páxara, is also a cant word, expressing sharpness or cunning.Ese es paxaro, is equivalent with the vulgar expression,he is a knowing one: hence perhaps some of the allusions that will be found in these jeux d'esprit.
[A]Tablas, in allusion to those celebrated calculations drawn up under the superintendence of this monarch, and called, after him, theAlphonsine Tables, a work truly extraordinary for the age.
[A]Tablas, in allusion to those celebrated calculations drawn up under the superintendence of this monarch, and called, after him, theAlphonsine Tables, a work truly extraordinary for the age.
[B]Some learned men question whether these two works do actually belong to the time and author to whom they are ascribed; and the improvement which the versification and language present, forms a very strong presumption in favour of this doubt.
[B]Some learned men question whether these two works do actually belong to the time and author to whom they are ascribed; and the improvement which the versification and language present, forms a very strong presumption in favour of this doubt.
[C]"Again and yet again do I deploreThis injury; dissatisfied CastileHas lost a treasure, whose rare worth, I feel,The thoughtless nation never knew before.She lost thy books, all unappreciated!In funeral expiation some were thrownTo the devouring flames, and others strewnAbout, in ruinous disorder spread.Surely, in Athens, the false books of fledProtagoras, esteemed so reprobate,Were to the fire consigned with greater state,When to the angry Senate they were read."
[C]
"Again and yet again do I deploreThis injury; dissatisfied CastileHas lost a treasure, whose rare worth, I feel,The thoughtless nation never knew before.She lost thy books, all unappreciated!In funeral expiation some were thrownTo the devouring flames, and others strewnAbout, in ruinous disorder spread.Surely, in Athens, the false books of fledProtagoras, esteemed so reprobate,Were to the fire consigned with greater state,When to the angry Senate they were read."
"Again and yet again do I deploreThis injury; dissatisfied CastileHas lost a treasure, whose rare worth, I feel,The thoughtless nation never knew before.She lost thy books, all unappreciated!In funeral expiation some were thrownTo the devouring flames, and others strewnAbout, in ruinous disorder spread.Surely, in Athens, the false books of fledProtagoras, esteemed so reprobate,Were to the fire consigned with greater state,When to the angry Senate they were read."
"Again and yet again do I deploreThis injury; dissatisfied CastileHas lost a treasure, whose rare worth, I feel,The thoughtless nation never knew before.She lost thy books, all unappreciated!In funeral expiation some were thrownTo the devouring flames, and others strewnAbout, in ruinous disorder spread.Surely, in Athens, the false books of fledProtagoras, esteemed so reprobate,Were to the fire consigned with greater state,When to the angry Senate they were read."
[D]Macías was a gentleman of the Grand Master's, Don Enrique de Villena. Among the ladies who attended on this nobleman was one with whose beauty our poet became captivated; and neither the seeing her married to another, the reproofs of the Grand Master, nor, in fact, the prison into which he ordered him to be consigned, could conquer his fatal attachment. The husband, fired with wrath, concerted with the alcaide of the tower in which his rival was imprisoned, and found means to dart at him, through a window, the lance he bore, and with it pierced him to the heart. Macías was at that moment singing one of the songs he had composed upon his mistress, and thus expired with her name and love upon his lips. The two qualities of troubadour and lover united in him, made him an object of celebrity, and almost of reverence, with the poets of the age. Most of them celebrated him, and his name, to which was joined the title ofEnamorado, is still proverbial, as a designation for devoted lovers. The reader will not be displeased to see the verses which Mena devoted to him in theLaberinto: they may serve to show the character of that poet's fancy."We in this radiant circle looked so long,That we found out Macías; in a bowerOf cypress, was he weeping still the hourThat ended his dark life and love in wrong.Nearer I drew, for sympathy was strongIn me, when I perceived he was from Spain;And there I heard him sing the saddest strainThat e'er was tuned in elegiac song.'Love crowned me with his myrtle crown; my nameWill be pronounced by many, but, alas,When his pangs caused me bliss, not slighter wasThe mournful suffering that consumed my frame!His sweet snares conquer the lorn mind they tame,But do not always then continue sweet;And since they caused me ruin so complete,Turn, lovers, turn, and disesteem his flame:Danger so passionate be glad to miss;Learn to be gay; flee, flee from sorrow's touch;Learn to disserve him you have served so much,Your devoirs pay at any shrine but his:If the short joy that in his service is,Were but proportioned to the long, long pain,Neither would he that once has loved, complain,Nor he that ne'er has loved despair of bliss.But even as some assassin or night-rover,Seeing his fellow wound upon the wheel,Awed by the agony, resolves with zealHis life to' amend, and character recover;But when the fearful spectacle is over,Reacts his crimes with easy unconcern:So my amours on my despair return,That I should die, as I have lived, a lover!'"
[D]Macías was a gentleman of the Grand Master's, Don Enrique de Villena. Among the ladies who attended on this nobleman was one with whose beauty our poet became captivated; and neither the seeing her married to another, the reproofs of the Grand Master, nor, in fact, the prison into which he ordered him to be consigned, could conquer his fatal attachment. The husband, fired with wrath, concerted with the alcaide of the tower in which his rival was imprisoned, and found means to dart at him, through a window, the lance he bore, and with it pierced him to the heart. Macías was at that moment singing one of the songs he had composed upon his mistress, and thus expired with her name and love upon his lips. The two qualities of troubadour and lover united in him, made him an object of celebrity, and almost of reverence, with the poets of the age. Most of them celebrated him, and his name, to which was joined the title ofEnamorado, is still proverbial, as a designation for devoted lovers. The reader will not be displeased to see the verses which Mena devoted to him in theLaberinto: they may serve to show the character of that poet's fancy.
"We in this radiant circle looked so long,That we found out Macías; in a bowerOf cypress, was he weeping still the hourThat ended his dark life and love in wrong.Nearer I drew, for sympathy was strongIn me, when I perceived he was from Spain;And there I heard him sing the saddest strainThat e'er was tuned in elegiac song.'Love crowned me with his myrtle crown; my nameWill be pronounced by many, but, alas,When his pangs caused me bliss, not slighter wasThe mournful suffering that consumed my frame!His sweet snares conquer the lorn mind they tame,But do not always then continue sweet;And since they caused me ruin so complete,Turn, lovers, turn, and disesteem his flame:Danger so passionate be glad to miss;Learn to be gay; flee, flee from sorrow's touch;Learn to disserve him you have served so much,Your devoirs pay at any shrine but his:If the short joy that in his service is,Were but proportioned to the long, long pain,Neither would he that once has loved, complain,Nor he that ne'er has loved despair of bliss.But even as some assassin or night-rover,Seeing his fellow wound upon the wheel,Awed by the agony, resolves with zealHis life to' amend, and character recover;But when the fearful spectacle is over,Reacts his crimes with easy unconcern:So my amours on my despair return,That I should die, as I have lived, a lover!'"
"We in this radiant circle looked so long,That we found out Macías; in a bowerOf cypress, was he weeping still the hourThat ended his dark life and love in wrong.Nearer I drew, for sympathy was strongIn me, when I perceived he was from Spain;And there I heard him sing the saddest strainThat e'er was tuned in elegiac song.'Love crowned me with his myrtle crown; my nameWill be pronounced by many, but, alas,When his pangs caused me bliss, not slighter wasThe mournful suffering that consumed my frame!His sweet snares conquer the lorn mind they tame,But do not always then continue sweet;And since they caused me ruin so complete,Turn, lovers, turn, and disesteem his flame:Danger so passionate be glad to miss;Learn to be gay; flee, flee from sorrow's touch;Learn to disserve him you have served so much,Your devoirs pay at any shrine but his:If the short joy that in his service is,Were but proportioned to the long, long pain,Neither would he that once has loved, complain,Nor he that ne'er has loved despair of bliss.But even as some assassin or night-rover,Seeing his fellow wound upon the wheel,Awed by the agony, resolves with zealHis life to' amend, and character recover;But when the fearful spectacle is over,Reacts his crimes with easy unconcern:So my amours on my despair return,That I should die, as I have lived, a lover!'"
"We in this radiant circle looked so long,That we found out Macías; in a bowerOf cypress, was he weeping still the hourThat ended his dark life and love in wrong.Nearer I drew, for sympathy was strongIn me, when I perceived he was from Spain;And there I heard him sing the saddest strainThat e'er was tuned in elegiac song.'Love crowned me with his myrtle crown; my nameWill be pronounced by many, but, alas,When his pangs caused me bliss, not slighter wasThe mournful suffering that consumed my frame!His sweet snares conquer the lorn mind they tame,But do not always then continue sweet;And since they caused me ruin so complete,Turn, lovers, turn, and disesteem his flame:Danger so passionate be glad to miss;Learn to be gay; flee, flee from sorrow's touch;Learn to disserve him you have served so much,Your devoirs pay at any shrine but his:If the short joy that in his service is,Were but proportioned to the long, long pain,Neither would he that once has loved, complain,Nor he that ne'er has loved despair of bliss.But even as some assassin or night-rover,Seeing his fellow wound upon the wheel,Awed by the agony, resolves with zealHis life to' amend, and character recover;But when the fearful spectacle is over,Reacts his crimes with easy unconcern:So my amours on my despair return,That I should die, as I have lived, a lover!'"
[E]This song of Santillana, not entirely devoid either of grace or pathos, may serve as a specimen of the manner in which these writers applied their learning.1.First shall the singing spheres be dumb,And cease their rolling motion,Alecto pitiful become,And Pluto move devotion,Ere to thy virtues, printed deepWithin my heart, I proveThoughtless, or leave thine eyes to weep,My soul, my life, my love!2.Successful Cæsar first shall ceaseTo fight for an ovation,And force defenced PriamedesTo sign a recantation,Ere, my sweet idol, thou shalt fret,Neglect in me to trace,Ere I one lineament forgetIn all that charming face.3.Sinon shall guilelessly behave,Thais with virtue, CupidMeekly—Sardanapalus brave,And Solomon grow stupid,Ere, gentle creature, from my mindThine image flits away,Whose evermore I am, resignedThy biddings to obey.4.Swart Ethiopia shall grow chillWith wintry congelation,Cold Scythia hot, and Scylla stillHer boiling tide's gyration,Ere my charmed spirit shall have powerTo tear itself away,In freedom, but for one short hour,From thy celestial sway.5.Lions and tigers shall make peaceWith lambs, and play together,Sands shall be counted, and deep seasGrow dry in rainy weather,Ere Fortune shall the influence haveTo make my soul resignIts bliss, and call itself the slaveOf any charms but thine.6.For thou the magnet art, and IThe needle, oh my beauty!And every hour thou draw'st me nigh,In voluntary duty;Nor is this wonderful, for callThe proudest, she will feelThat thou the mirror art of allThe ladies in Castile.
[E]This song of Santillana, not entirely devoid either of grace or pathos, may serve as a specimen of the manner in which these writers applied their learning.
1.First shall the singing spheres be dumb,And cease their rolling motion,Alecto pitiful become,And Pluto move devotion,Ere to thy virtues, printed deepWithin my heart, I proveThoughtless, or leave thine eyes to weep,My soul, my life, my love!2.Successful Cæsar first shall ceaseTo fight for an ovation,And force defenced PriamedesTo sign a recantation,Ere, my sweet idol, thou shalt fret,Neglect in me to trace,Ere I one lineament forgetIn all that charming face.3.Sinon shall guilelessly behave,Thais with virtue, CupidMeekly—Sardanapalus brave,And Solomon grow stupid,Ere, gentle creature, from my mindThine image flits away,Whose evermore I am, resignedThy biddings to obey.4.Swart Ethiopia shall grow chillWith wintry congelation,Cold Scythia hot, and Scylla stillHer boiling tide's gyration,Ere my charmed spirit shall have powerTo tear itself away,In freedom, but for one short hour,From thy celestial sway.5.Lions and tigers shall make peaceWith lambs, and play together,Sands shall be counted, and deep seasGrow dry in rainy weather,Ere Fortune shall the influence haveTo make my soul resignIts bliss, and call itself the slaveOf any charms but thine.6.For thou the magnet art, and IThe needle, oh my beauty!And every hour thou draw'st me nigh,In voluntary duty;Nor is this wonderful, for callThe proudest, she will feelThat thou the mirror art of allThe ladies in Castile.
1.
First shall the singing spheres be dumb,And cease their rolling motion,Alecto pitiful become,And Pluto move devotion,Ere to thy virtues, printed deepWithin my heart, I proveThoughtless, or leave thine eyes to weep,My soul, my life, my love!
First shall the singing spheres be dumb,And cease their rolling motion,Alecto pitiful become,And Pluto move devotion,Ere to thy virtues, printed deepWithin my heart, I proveThoughtless, or leave thine eyes to weep,My soul, my life, my love!
2.
Successful Cæsar first shall ceaseTo fight for an ovation,And force defenced PriamedesTo sign a recantation,Ere, my sweet idol, thou shalt fret,Neglect in me to trace,Ere I one lineament forgetIn all that charming face.
Successful Cæsar first shall ceaseTo fight for an ovation,And force defenced PriamedesTo sign a recantation,Ere, my sweet idol, thou shalt fret,Neglect in me to trace,Ere I one lineament forgetIn all that charming face.
3.
Sinon shall guilelessly behave,Thais with virtue, CupidMeekly—Sardanapalus brave,And Solomon grow stupid,Ere, gentle creature, from my mindThine image flits away,Whose evermore I am, resignedThy biddings to obey.
Sinon shall guilelessly behave,Thais with virtue, CupidMeekly—Sardanapalus brave,And Solomon grow stupid,Ere, gentle creature, from my mindThine image flits away,Whose evermore I am, resignedThy biddings to obey.
4.
Swart Ethiopia shall grow chillWith wintry congelation,Cold Scythia hot, and Scylla stillHer boiling tide's gyration,Ere my charmed spirit shall have powerTo tear itself away,In freedom, but for one short hour,From thy celestial sway.
Swart Ethiopia shall grow chillWith wintry congelation,Cold Scythia hot, and Scylla stillHer boiling tide's gyration,Ere my charmed spirit shall have powerTo tear itself away,In freedom, but for one short hour,From thy celestial sway.
5.
Lions and tigers shall make peaceWith lambs, and play together,Sands shall be counted, and deep seasGrow dry in rainy weather,Ere Fortune shall the influence haveTo make my soul resignIts bliss, and call itself the slaveOf any charms but thine.
Lions and tigers shall make peaceWith lambs, and play together,Sands shall be counted, and deep seasGrow dry in rainy weather,Ere Fortune shall the influence haveTo make my soul resignIts bliss, and call itself the slaveOf any charms but thine.
6.
For thou the magnet art, and IThe needle, oh my beauty!And every hour thou draw'st me nigh,In voluntary duty;Nor is this wonderful, for callThe proudest, she will feelThat thou the mirror art of allThe ladies in Castile.
For thou the magnet art, and IThe needle, oh my beauty!And every hour thou draw'st me nigh,In voluntary duty;Nor is this wonderful, for callThe proudest, she will feelThat thou the mirror art of allThe ladies in Castile.
[F]The Spaniards callquebradothose shorter verses which are, as it were,brokenfrom, and intermingled with theirredondillas mayores, or octosyllabic lines, as for example:"Recuerde el alma adormida,Avive el seso y despierte,ContemplandoComo se pasa la vida,Como se viene la muerte,Tan callando."Manrique.They do not however strike an English ear as destitute of harmony, but it is a harmony that in any long composition would become very monotonous.
[F]The Spaniards callquebradothose shorter verses which are, as it were,brokenfrom, and intermingled with theirredondillas mayores, or octosyllabic lines, as for example:
"Recuerde el alma adormida,Avive el seso y despierte,ContemplandoComo se pasa la vida,Como se viene la muerte,Tan callando."Manrique.
"Recuerde el alma adormida,Avive el seso y despierte,ContemplandoComo se pasa la vida,Como se viene la muerte,Tan callando."Manrique.
"Recuerde el alma adormida,Avive el seso y despierte,ContemplandoComo se pasa la vida,Como se viene la muerte,Tan callando."Manrique.
They do not however strike an English ear as destitute of harmony, but it is a harmony that in any long composition would become very monotonous.
[G]These signs I think sufficient for my purpose. Whoso desires yet farther proofs may compare the ode of Torre, which begins "Sale de la sagrada," with the two canciones of Quevedo, "Pues quitas primavera al año el ceño," and "Dulce señora mia," placed inEuterpe, whence Velasquez took the verses which he cites here and there in his discourse, to prove the resemblance. He may do more; he may look inMelpomenefor the funeral Silva of the Turtle, and compare it with the very beautiful cancion of Torre, to the same bird. What a troublesome ingenuity, what exaggeration, what hyperbole, what coldness in the first; what melancholy, tenderness, and sentiment in the second! It is quite impossible that the same object could produce an inspiration so different in the same fancy. The example of Lope is cited, in the poetry of Burguillos; but the real and absolute similarity that exists between these verses and the diction of Lope and Burguillos, notwithstanding the difference of subject and character, the insinuation of Lope himself, that of Quevedo in his approbation of the same poems, the conclusive authority of Montalban and Antonio de Leon, friends and cotemporaries of Lope, who attribute them to him, make the identity of Lope with Burguillos as evident, as the reasons already alleged do the diversity of Francisco de Torre and Quevedo.
[G]These signs I think sufficient for my purpose. Whoso desires yet farther proofs may compare the ode of Torre, which begins "Sale de la sagrada," with the two canciones of Quevedo, "Pues quitas primavera al año el ceño," and "Dulce señora mia," placed inEuterpe, whence Velasquez took the verses which he cites here and there in his discourse, to prove the resemblance. He may do more; he may look inMelpomenefor the funeral Silva of the Turtle, and compare it with the very beautiful cancion of Torre, to the same bird. What a troublesome ingenuity, what exaggeration, what hyperbole, what coldness in the first; what melancholy, tenderness, and sentiment in the second! It is quite impossible that the same object could produce an inspiration so different in the same fancy. The example of Lope is cited, in the poetry of Burguillos; but the real and absolute similarity that exists between these verses and the diction of Lope and Burguillos, notwithstanding the difference of subject and character, the insinuation of Lope himself, that of Quevedo in his approbation of the same poems, the conclusive authority of Montalban and Antonio de Leon, friends and cotemporaries of Lope, who attribute them to him, make the identity of Lope with Burguillos as evident, as the reasons already alleged do the diversity of Francisco de Torre and Quevedo.
[H]Luis de Leon, although a native of Granada, finished his studies and lived in Salamanca, and consequently does not contradict this general observation.
[H]Luis de Leon, although a native of Granada, finished his studies and lived in Salamanca, and consequently does not contradict this general observation.
[I]The meaning of this term will be fully understood by the English reader, when he is reminded of the style of writing which was prevalent in the time of Elizabeth, under the name of Euphuism; rich specimens whereof are exhibited by the author of Waverley, in the delectable speeches of sir Piercie Shafton.
[I]The meaning of this term will be fully understood by the English reader, when he is reminded of the style of writing which was prevalent in the time of Elizabeth, under the name of Euphuism; rich specimens whereof are exhibited by the author of Waverley, in the delectable speeches of sir Piercie Shafton.
[J]"But when to lash loose vices you aspire,And seek to catch the true satiric fire,All others' leaves pass over, all neglect,But Juvenal's, the shrewd and circumspect;None to the high court-taste with such successFeels the town's pulse—ev'n Horace's is less."
[J]
"But when to lash loose vices you aspire,And seek to catch the true satiric fire,All others' leaves pass over, all neglect,But Juvenal's, the shrewd and circumspect;None to the high court-taste with such successFeels the town's pulse—ev'n Horace's is less."
"But when to lash loose vices you aspire,And seek to catch the true satiric fire,All others' leaves pass over, all neglect,But Juvenal's, the shrewd and circumspect;None to the high court-taste with such successFeels the town's pulse—ev'n Horace's is less."
"But when to lash loose vices you aspire,And seek to catch the true satiric fire,All others' leaves pass over, all neglect,But Juvenal's, the shrewd and circumspect;None to the high court-taste with such successFeels the town's pulse—ev'n Horace's is less."
[K]"What of the swain Anchises shall I say,But ask Idalian Venus by the wayWho is the gardener of those flowers of hers,Or Ida's pencil who her fancy stirs?Did not Ulysses farm the watery waste?How then could he Calypso's fruitage taste?"What ridiculous nonsense! Will any one believe that these are by the same author, and found in the same piece as the following?—"Come, then, fair mountaineer, hide not nor flee,Thou, by thy marriage with this stream, shalt beQueen of the sweetest waves that in their sweepLove to give lustre to the shady deep.'Tis just that thou respond to love's light pain,With kind acknowledgment, not coy disdain."
[K]
"What of the swain Anchises shall I say,But ask Idalian Venus by the wayWho is the gardener of those flowers of hers,Or Ida's pencil who her fancy stirs?Did not Ulysses farm the watery waste?How then could he Calypso's fruitage taste?"
"What of the swain Anchises shall I say,But ask Idalian Venus by the wayWho is the gardener of those flowers of hers,Or Ida's pencil who her fancy stirs?Did not Ulysses farm the watery waste?How then could he Calypso's fruitage taste?"
"What of the swain Anchises shall I say,But ask Idalian Venus by the wayWho is the gardener of those flowers of hers,Or Ida's pencil who her fancy stirs?Did not Ulysses farm the watery waste?How then could he Calypso's fruitage taste?"
What ridiculous nonsense! Will any one believe that these are by the same author, and found in the same piece as the following?—
"Come, then, fair mountaineer, hide not nor flee,Thou, by thy marriage with this stream, shalt beQueen of the sweetest waves that in their sweepLove to give lustre to the shady deep.'Tis just that thou respond to love's light pain,With kind acknowledgment, not coy disdain."
"Come, then, fair mountaineer, hide not nor flee,Thou, by thy marriage with this stream, shalt beQueen of the sweetest waves that in their sweepLove to give lustre to the shady deep.'Tis just that thou respond to love's light pain,With kind acknowledgment, not coy disdain."
"Come, then, fair mountaineer, hide not nor flee,Thou, by thy marriage with this stream, shalt beQueen of the sweetest waves that in their sweepLove to give lustre to the shady deep.'Tis just that thou respond to love's light pain,With kind acknowledgment, not coy disdain."
[L]One of his sapphics is written with so much delicacy and beauty that I cannot resist the temptation of translating it.To the Zephyr."Sweet neighbour of the green, leaf-shaking grove,Eternal guest of April, frolic childOf a sad sire, life-breath of mother Love,Favonius, zephyr mild!If thou hast learned like me to love—away!Thou who hast borne the murmurs of my cry;Hence—no demur—and to my Flora say,Say that 'I die!''Flora once knew what bitter tears I shed;Flora once wept to see my sorrows flow;Flora once loved me, but I dread, I dreadHer anger now.'So may the Gods, so may the calm blue sky,For the fair time that thou, in gentle mirth,Sport'st in the air, with love benign denySnows to the earth!So never may the grey cloud's cumbrous sail,When from on high the rosy daybreak springs,Beat on thy shoulders, nor its evil hailWound thy fine wings!"
[L]One of his sapphics is written with so much delicacy and beauty that I cannot resist the temptation of translating it.
To the Zephyr.
"Sweet neighbour of the green, leaf-shaking grove,Eternal guest of April, frolic childOf a sad sire, life-breath of mother Love,Favonius, zephyr mild!If thou hast learned like me to love—away!Thou who hast borne the murmurs of my cry;Hence—no demur—and to my Flora say,Say that 'I die!''Flora once knew what bitter tears I shed;Flora once wept to see my sorrows flow;Flora once loved me, but I dread, I dreadHer anger now.'So may the Gods, so may the calm blue sky,For the fair time that thou, in gentle mirth,Sport'st in the air, with love benign denySnows to the earth!So never may the grey cloud's cumbrous sail,When from on high the rosy daybreak springs,Beat on thy shoulders, nor its evil hailWound thy fine wings!"
"Sweet neighbour of the green, leaf-shaking grove,Eternal guest of April, frolic childOf a sad sire, life-breath of mother Love,Favonius, zephyr mild!If thou hast learned like me to love—away!Thou who hast borne the murmurs of my cry;Hence—no demur—and to my Flora say,Say that 'I die!''Flora once knew what bitter tears I shed;Flora once wept to see my sorrows flow;Flora once loved me, but I dread, I dreadHer anger now.'So may the Gods, so may the calm blue sky,For the fair time that thou, in gentle mirth,Sport'st in the air, with love benign denySnows to the earth!So never may the grey cloud's cumbrous sail,When from on high the rosy daybreak springs,Beat on thy shoulders, nor its evil hailWound thy fine wings!"
"Sweet neighbour of the green, leaf-shaking grove,Eternal guest of April, frolic childOf a sad sire, life-breath of mother Love,Favonius, zephyr mild!
If thou hast learned like me to love—away!Thou who hast borne the murmurs of my cry;Hence—no demur—and to my Flora say,Say that 'I die!'
'Flora once knew what bitter tears I shed;Flora once wept to see my sorrows flow;Flora once loved me, but I dread, I dreadHer anger now.'
So may the Gods, so may the calm blue sky,For the fair time that thou, in gentle mirth,Sport'st in the air, with love benign denySnows to the earth!
So never may the grey cloud's cumbrous sail,When from on high the rosy daybreak springs,Beat on thy shoulders, nor its evil hailWound thy fine wings!"
[M]"Spanish Anacreon! none your Highness meets,But says most courteously, that though your linesMove elegiacally sad, your sweetsHave all the tasty syrup of new wines!They say that they should like to see each songWith scrupulous exactness, for a freak,Translated well into Anacreon's tongue,Your honest eyes not having seen the Greek."Góngora."Although he said that all would hide from shame,When the fine splendours of his genius came."Lope.
[M]
"Spanish Anacreon! none your Highness meets,But says most courteously, that though your linesMove elegiacally sad, your sweetsHave all the tasty syrup of new wines!They say that they should like to see each songWith scrupulous exactness, for a freak,Translated well into Anacreon's tongue,Your honest eyes not having seen the Greek."Góngora."Although he said that all would hide from shame,When the fine splendours of his genius came."Lope.
"Spanish Anacreon! none your Highness meets,But says most courteously, that though your linesMove elegiacally sad, your sweetsHave all the tasty syrup of new wines!They say that they should like to see each songWith scrupulous exactness, for a freak,Translated well into Anacreon's tongue,Your honest eyes not having seen the Greek."Góngora."Although he said that all would hide from shame,When the fine splendours of his genius came."Lope.
"Spanish Anacreon! none your Highness meets,But says most courteously, that though your linesMove elegiacally sad, your sweetsHave all the tasty syrup of new wines!They say that they should like to see each songWith scrupulous exactness, for a freak,Translated well into Anacreon's tongue,Your honest eyes not having seen the Greek."Góngora.
"Although he said that all would hide from shame,When the fine splendours of his genius came."Lope.
[N]The eclogue of Tirsi of Figueroa, and the translation of the Aminta by Jauregui, are the only exceptions to this general decision, and the only examples that can be quoted among the ancient Spanish poets, of blank verse well constructed.
[N]The eclogue of Tirsi of Figueroa, and the translation of the Aminta by Jauregui, are the only exceptions to this general decision, and the only examples that can be quoted among the ancient Spanish poets, of blank verse well constructed.
[O]The Asonante is a sort of imperfect rhyme peculiar to the Spaniards; it consists in the uniformity of the two last vowels, counting from the accent, as for example:Tras una mariposaQual zagalejosímpleCorriendo por el valleLa senda á perdervíne.Their perfect rhymes are termedConsonantes.
[O]The Asonante is a sort of imperfect rhyme peculiar to the Spaniards; it consists in the uniformity of the two last vowels, counting from the accent, as for example:
Tras una mariposaQual zagalejosímpleCorriendo por el valleLa senda á perdervíne.
Tras una mariposaQual zagalejosímpleCorriendo por el valleLa senda á perdervíne.
Tras una mariposaQual zagalejosímpleCorriendo por el valleLa senda á perdervíne.
Their perfect rhymes are termedConsonantes.
[P]Until the surety comes whom I obligeWith myJerusalem, which I indite,Prune, polish, and correct from morn till night.Epistle to Gaspar de Barrionuevo.What ideas of taste, correctness, elegance, and order, must the writer have had, who with such diligence and study, produced so wild a work!
[P]
Until the surety comes whom I obligeWith myJerusalem, which I indite,Prune, polish, and correct from morn till night.Epistle to Gaspar de Barrionuevo.
Until the surety comes whom I obligeWith myJerusalem, which I indite,Prune, polish, and correct from morn till night.Epistle to Gaspar de Barrionuevo.
Until the surety comes whom I obligeWith myJerusalem, which I indite,Prune, polish, and correct from morn till night.Epistle to Gaspar de Barrionuevo.
What ideas of taste, correctness, elegance, and order, must the writer have had, who with such diligence and study, produced so wild a work!
[Q]If my free neck had not been brokeTo strict necessity's hard yoke,I should have seen around my headSome honour due to merit shed,That would have given, as honour goes,Green lustre to its hoary snows.I ever have invoked the laughOf the vile vulgar on behalfOf love-intrigues, meet or unmeet,Oft dashed off at a single heat;So—but far less impolitic,Great painters daub their canvass quick.Lope;Eclogue to Claudio.
[Q]
If my free neck had not been brokeTo strict necessity's hard yoke,I should have seen around my headSome honour due to merit shed,That would have given, as honour goes,Green lustre to its hoary snows.I ever have invoked the laughOf the vile vulgar on behalfOf love-intrigues, meet or unmeet,Oft dashed off at a single heat;So—but far less impolitic,Great painters daub their canvass quick.Lope;Eclogue to Claudio.
If my free neck had not been brokeTo strict necessity's hard yoke,I should have seen around my headSome honour due to merit shed,That would have given, as honour goes,Green lustre to its hoary snows.I ever have invoked the laughOf the vile vulgar on behalfOf love-intrigues, meet or unmeet,Oft dashed off at a single heat;So—but far less impolitic,Great painters daub their canvass quick.Lope;Eclogue to Claudio.
If my free neck had not been brokeTo strict necessity's hard yoke,I should have seen around my headSome honour due to merit shed,That would have given, as honour goes,Green lustre to its hoary snows.I ever have invoked the laughOf the vile vulgar on behalfOf love-intrigues, meet or unmeet,Oft dashed off at a single heat;So—but far less impolitic,Great painters daub their canvass quick.Lope;Eclogue to Claudio.
[R]Achilles' pictured wrath to Greece,In gold-illumined palacesDecorum kept, vile flatterers shamed,The headstrong youth with love inflamed,The beauteous lady under banOf some stern sire, the rich old manShrewd and sententious as a Jew,To whom are these creations due?
[R]
Achilles' pictured wrath to Greece,In gold-illumined palacesDecorum kept, vile flatterers shamed,The headstrong youth with love inflamed,The beauteous lady under banOf some stern sire, the rich old manShrewd and sententious as a Jew,To whom are these creations due?
Achilles' pictured wrath to Greece,In gold-illumined palacesDecorum kept, vile flatterers shamed,The headstrong youth with love inflamed,The beauteous lady under banOf some stern sire, the rich old manShrewd and sententious as a Jew,To whom are these creations due?
Achilles' pictured wrath to Greece,In gold-illumined palacesDecorum kept, vile flatterers shamed,The headstrong youth with love inflamed,The beauteous lady under banOf some stern sire, the rich old manShrewd and sententious as a Jew,To whom are these creations due?
[S]After his death, Calderon, Moreto, and others, who in his lifetime were contented with the title of his pupils, eclipsed him in the scene, though his name was always respected as a writer. This respect was, however, daily diminishing under a more attentive observation of the principles of taste and of good models, till the representation in later days of some of his comedies with general applause served to re-establish his tottering reputation. In France, a very good translation of some of his poems, has within these few years been made by the Marquis d'Aguilar; and in England, a man respectable as well for rank and character as for learning, philosophy, and taste (Lord Holland), has published an excellent essay and criticism on his life and writings. A vicissitude sufficiently singular; and which at least proves, that although Lope may be a very faulty writer, he is yet very far from being an object of but little interest in the history of Spanish literature.
[S]After his death, Calderon, Moreto, and others, who in his lifetime were contented with the title of his pupils, eclipsed him in the scene, though his name was always respected as a writer. This respect was, however, daily diminishing under a more attentive observation of the principles of taste and of good models, till the representation in later days of some of his comedies with general applause served to re-establish his tottering reputation. In France, a very good translation of some of his poems, has within these few years been made by the Marquis d'Aguilar; and in England, a man respectable as well for rank and character as for learning, philosophy, and taste (Lord Holland), has published an excellent essay and criticism on his life and writings. A vicissitude sufficiently singular; and which at least proves, that although Lope may be a very faulty writer, he is yet very far from being an object of but little interest in the history of Spanish literature.
[T]Three odes of Herrera, and some fragments little interesting, are no more than an exception of this general position. Neither the Gulf of Lepanto, nor the Carolea, nor the Austriada, approach at all near to the dignity and importance of their subjects. Even in the Araucana itself, if there is any thing well painted, it is not the Spaniards, but the Indians.
[T]Three odes of Herrera, and some fragments little interesting, are no more than an exception of this general position. Neither the Gulf of Lepanto, nor the Carolea, nor the Austriada, approach at all near to the dignity and importance of their subjects. Even in the Araucana itself, if there is any thing well painted, it is not the Spaniards, but the Indians.
[U]The author of that very delightful old work, half romance, half history, Las Guerras Civiles de Granada, whence Bishop Percy translated the ballad, "Gentle river, gentle river," has introduced amongst others aRomancewhich perpetuates this action; only that he attributes it to the father of Garcilasso the poet, saying that it was performed by that personage in his youth, during the siege of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella. But this is evidently a great mistake, as the surname De la Vega is ascribed to the family in chronicles of a far earlier time. This contradiction could not escape Lord Holland's perspicacity; he makes mention of it in his life of Lope de Vega, but seems somewhat disposed to doubt the truth of the story altogether, as it is related, he observes, of another knight, with little variation, in the Chronicle of Alonzo the Eleventh. But I would say, with great deference to the judgment that dictated this remark, that the popular ballads of a nation generally take their rise from some event of commanding interest, universally recognised at the time as true, and like our own beautiful ballad of Chevy Chase, perpetuate the memory thereof to long posterity, with the authority and assuredness of history. The language of this ballad, it is true, precludes us from giving it a date of greater antiquity than the author of the above imaginative work; and it may be rational to suppose that finding a Garcilasso at the siege of Granada, he chose to embellish his book as well as his hero, by ascribing to him the deed, known either from its mention in the chronicle or from current tradition. But a full confirmation of the truth of the story is, I think, to be found in the family arms; they bear,or, the wordsAve Maria, Gracia Plena, per pale in lettersazure; and the house of Mendoza show the same words in their scutcheon, only per pale a bend dexter, assumed, I am inclined to think, on the marriage of D. Diego Hurtado de Mendoza with Leonora de la Vega. I at one time thought that the incident specified in the Chronicle of Alonzo the Eleventh, might refer to the Garcilasso so favoured by that monarch, more particularly as Mariana gives him the surname; but subsequent research satisfies me in ascribing it to his son, which I do on the authority of Sandoval. Appended to the Chronicle of Alonzo the Wise in the British Museum, is a work by this historian with MS. notes of his own, under this title: Genealogies de algunos grandes Cavalleros que florecieron en tiempo de Don Alonzo VII. Emperador de España. Cuyos descendientes ay oy dia A. D. 1600, por Fr. Prudencio de Sandoval, predicador de la orden de San Benito. His words I have translated in the text, and there is a MS. note in the margin to much the same effect. I should have been glad to give the incident alluded to by Lord Holland, but the chronicle I consulted was printed so villanously in Gothic type, that it is little wonder I missed finding it: the reader may not however be displeased to see a translation of the Romance.[3]
[U]The author of that very delightful old work, half romance, half history, Las Guerras Civiles de Granada, whence Bishop Percy translated the ballad, "Gentle river, gentle river," has introduced amongst others aRomancewhich perpetuates this action; only that he attributes it to the father of Garcilasso the poet, saying that it was performed by that personage in his youth, during the siege of Granada by Ferdinand and Isabella. But this is evidently a great mistake, as the surname De la Vega is ascribed to the family in chronicles of a far earlier time. This contradiction could not escape Lord Holland's perspicacity; he makes mention of it in his life of Lope de Vega, but seems somewhat disposed to doubt the truth of the story altogether, as it is related, he observes, of another knight, with little variation, in the Chronicle of Alonzo the Eleventh. But I would say, with great deference to the judgment that dictated this remark, that the popular ballads of a nation generally take their rise from some event of commanding interest, universally recognised at the time as true, and like our own beautiful ballad of Chevy Chase, perpetuate the memory thereof to long posterity, with the authority and assuredness of history. The language of this ballad, it is true, precludes us from giving it a date of greater antiquity than the author of the above imaginative work; and it may be rational to suppose that finding a Garcilasso at the siege of Granada, he chose to embellish his book as well as his hero, by ascribing to him the deed, known either from its mention in the chronicle or from current tradition. But a full confirmation of the truth of the story is, I think, to be found in the family arms; they bear,or, the wordsAve Maria, Gracia Plena, per pale in lettersazure; and the house of Mendoza show the same words in their scutcheon, only per pale a bend dexter, assumed, I am inclined to think, on the marriage of D. Diego Hurtado de Mendoza with Leonora de la Vega. I at one time thought that the incident specified in the Chronicle of Alonzo the Eleventh, might refer to the Garcilasso so favoured by that monarch, more particularly as Mariana gives him the surname; but subsequent research satisfies me in ascribing it to his son, which I do on the authority of Sandoval. Appended to the Chronicle of Alonzo the Wise in the British Museum, is a work by this historian with MS. notes of his own, under this title: Genealogies de algunos grandes Cavalleros que florecieron en tiempo de Don Alonzo VII. Emperador de España. Cuyos descendientes ay oy dia A. D. 1600, por Fr. Prudencio de Sandoval, predicador de la orden de San Benito. His words I have translated in the text, and there is a MS. note in the margin to much the same effect. I should have been glad to give the incident alluded to by Lord Holland, but the chronicle I consulted was printed so villanously in Gothic type, that it is little wonder I missed finding it: the reader may not however be displeased to see a translation of the Romance.[3]
[V]Don Nicolas Antonio: Bibliotheca Hispana. Art. Garcias Lassus.
[V]Don Nicolas Antonio: Bibliotheca Hispana. Art. Garcias Lassus.
[W]Don T. Tamaio de Vargas. Anotaciones, p. 45.
[W]Don T. Tamaio de Vargas. Anotaciones, p. 45.
[X]Pelegrin. Hispania Bibliotheca, p. 579.
[X]Pelegrin. Hispania Bibliotheca, p. 579.
[Y]Sandoval: Historia de Carlos V. vol. i. fol. 428.
[Y]Sandoval: Historia de Carlos V. vol. i. fol. 428.
[Z]Sandoval, l. v. fol. 211.
[Z]Sandoval, l. v. fol. 211.
[AA]Sandoval, lib. v. fol. 214, 274.
[AA]Sandoval, lib. v. fol. 214, 274.
[AB]Sismondi, Histoire des Républiques Italiennes, t. xv. p. 47.
[AB]Sismondi, Histoire des Républiques Italiennes, t. xv. p. 47.
[AC]June 11th, 1525.
[AC]June 11th, 1525.
[AD]Naugerii Opera; Viaggio in Ispagna, p. 352.
[AD]Naugerii Opera; Viaggio in Ispagna, p. 352.
[AE]Las Obras de Boscán y algunas de Garcilasso de la Vega, 1547.
[AE]Las Obras de Boscán y algunas de Garcilasso de la Vega, 1547.
[AF]Herrera. Anotaciones, fol. 15.
[AF]Herrera. Anotaciones, fol. 15.
[AG]Jovii Fragmentum, p. 119, 120. Brit. Mus.
[AG]Jovii Fragmentum, p. 119, 120. Brit. Mus.
[AH]Lettere di M. Pietro Bembo, vol. i.
[AH]Lettere di M. Pietro Bembo, vol. i.
[AI]Petri Bembi Epistolæ, lib. vi.
[AI]Petri Bembi Epistolæ, lib. vi.
[AJ]Bellaii Comment. lib. vi. p. 277.
[AJ]Bellaii Comment. lib. vi. p. 277.
[AK]Imhof. Histoire de Trente Fam. d'Espagne, p. 131.
[AK]Imhof. Histoire de Trente Fam. d'Espagne, p. 131.
[AL]There is a copy of this first edition in the British Museum, printed in old English characters.
[AL]There is a copy of this first edition in the British Museum, printed in old English characters.
[AM]It was supposed originally that Nemoroso was intended to represent Boscán, and that the word was formed from an allusion to his name, Bosque—nemus, as that of Salicio is an anagram of Garcilasso. Herrera was the first that combated this opinion, applying the name to Don Antonio de Fonseca, the husband of Donna Isabel Freyre, who died in childbed. [Anotaciones, p. 409, 410.] From that time this became the prevailing supposition, till D. Luis Zapata in his Miscellanea affirmed, in contradiction of it, that Antonio de Fonseca was at no time intimate with Garcilasso, whilst Boscán had been the suitor, or servidor of Donna Isabel before her marriage, to whom it is highly probable the verses in the first book of his poems were addressed, beginning—"Señora Doña Isabel,Tan cruelEs la vida que consiento,Que no mata mi tormento," &c.For my own part, setting aside the circumstance that Nemoroso, in the second eclogue, in describing the urn of Tormes passes a handsome eulogy on Boscán, a circumstance which does not necessarily enter into the consideration, I am inclined to believe that it was Boscán who was signified, and moreover, that the eclogue was designed to commemorate the sadness they both felt in the memory of their first loves.
[AM]It was supposed originally that Nemoroso was intended to represent Boscán, and that the word was formed from an allusion to his name, Bosque—nemus, as that of Salicio is an anagram of Garcilasso. Herrera was the first that combated this opinion, applying the name to Don Antonio de Fonseca, the husband of Donna Isabel Freyre, who died in childbed. [Anotaciones, p. 409, 410.] From that time this became the prevailing supposition, till D. Luis Zapata in his Miscellanea affirmed, in contradiction of it, that Antonio de Fonseca was at no time intimate with Garcilasso, whilst Boscán had been the suitor, or servidor of Donna Isabel before her marriage, to whom it is highly probable the verses in the first book of his poems were addressed, beginning—
"Señora Doña Isabel,Tan cruelEs la vida que consiento,Que no mata mi tormento," &c.
"Señora Doña Isabel,Tan cruelEs la vida que consiento,Que no mata mi tormento," &c.
"Señora Doña Isabel,Tan cruelEs la vida que consiento,Que no mata mi tormento," &c.
For my own part, setting aside the circumstance that Nemoroso, in the second eclogue, in describing the urn of Tormes passes a handsome eulogy on Boscán, a circumstance which does not necessarily enter into the consideration, I am inclined to believe that it was Boscán who was signified, and moreover, that the eclogue was designed to commemorate the sadness they both felt in the memory of their first loves.
[AN]To obviate as much as possible the effect of this error, I have divided it into threesilvas, a term quite common in Spanish, and which in a scholar's ear may, as applied to the divisions of an eclogue, have a better grace than any other that could be adopted.
[AN]To obviate as much as possible the effect of this error, I have divided it into threesilvas, a term quite common in Spanish, and which in a scholar's ear may, as applied to the divisions of an eclogue, have a better grace than any other that could be adopted.
[AO]"Questa battaglia sensibile tra la Ragione e il Senso, mi fa pur sovvenire d' alcuni bellissimi versi di Garcilasso de la Vega, uno de piu riguardevoli poeti della Spagna. Racconta egli in una sua Canzone, come senza avvedersene s' innamorò:Estava yo a mirar, i peleandoEn mi defensa mi Razon estaba," &c.Della Perfetta Poesia Italiana.
[AO]"Questa battaglia sensibile tra la Ragione e il Senso, mi fa pur sovvenire d' alcuni bellissimi versi di Garcilasso de la Vega, uno de piu riguardevoli poeti della Spagna. Racconta egli in una sua Canzone, come senza avvedersene s' innamorò:
Estava yo a mirar, i peleandoEn mi defensa mi Razon estaba," &c.Della Perfetta Poesia Italiana.
Estava yo a mirar, i peleandoEn mi defensa mi Razon estaba," &c.Della Perfetta Poesia Italiana.
Estava yo a mirar, i peleandoEn mi defensa mi Razon estaba," &c.Della Perfetta Poesia Italiana.
[AP]Scelta di Poesie Castigliane tradotte in verso Toscano, e illustrate dal Conte Giovambatista Conti. 3 Tomi. Madrid, 1782.
[AP]Scelta di Poesie Castigliane tradotte in verso Toscano, e illustrate dal Conte Giovambatista Conti. 3 Tomi. Madrid, 1782.
[AQ]Vol. i. p. cclxv.
[AQ]Vol. i. p. cclxv.
[AR]Aristotle: Ethici, lib. viii. c. 3.
[AR]Aristotle: Ethici, lib. viii. c. 3.
[AS]A Valencian troubadour of the fifteenth century.
[AS]A Valencian troubadour of the fifteenth century.
[AT]This elegant little piece has been already translated by Mr. Moore, in the notes to his Anacreon; I should not have thought of attempting it after him, had not the heroic measure which he has chosen struck me as less fitted to convey the playfulness of the original than a lighter, though more diffusive stanza.
[AT]This elegant little piece has been already translated by Mr. Moore, in the notes to his Anacreon; I should not have thought of attempting it after him, had not the heroic measure which he has chosen struck me as less fitted to convey the playfulness of the original than a lighter, though more diffusive stanza.
[AU]Sandoval, l. i. cap. 40, p. 30.
[AU]Sandoval, l. i. cap. 40, p. 30.
[AV]Histoire du Duc d'Albe, l. i. ch. 10. p. 32.
[AV]Histoire du Duc d'Albe, l. i. ch. 10. p. 32.
[AW]Páxaro, or Páxara, is also a cant word, expressing sharpness or cunning.Ese es paxaro, is equivalent with the vulgar expression,he is a knowing one: hence perhaps some of the allusions that will be found in these jeux d'esprit.
[AW]Páxaro, or Páxara, is also a cant word, expressing sharpness or cunning.Ese es paxaro, is equivalent with the vulgar expression,he is a knowing one: hence perhaps some of the allusions that will be found in these jeux d'esprit.
THE END.
LONDON:PRINTED BY JAMES MOYES, GREVILLE STREET.
NEW TRANSLATIONOF THE"JERUSALEM DELIVERED."
PROPOSALSFOR PUBLISHING BY SUBSCRIPTIONA NEW TRANSLATIONOFTASSO,In English Spenserian Verse.
BY J. H. WIFFEN,AUTHOR OF "AONIAN HOURS," "JULIA ALPINULA," "THE DEATH OF MUNGO PARK," ETC.
"You will, perhaps, be inclined to laugh at the warmth with which I express myself; but I feel that the not having good modern translations ofAriostoandTassois a disgrace to our literature, and conceive that we are only debarred from this by Mr. Hoole's lumbering vehicle having so long stopped the way."—Stewart Rose'sLetters from the North of Italy.
"You will, perhaps, be inclined to laugh at the warmth with which I express myself; but I feel that the not having good modern translations ofAriostoandTassois a disgrace to our literature, and conceive that we are only debarred from this by Mr. Hoole's lumbering vehicle having so long stopped the way."—Stewart Rose'sLetters from the North of Italy.
At a time rich beyond all former ages but that ofElizabeth, and scarcely less prodigal than that in works of imagination; at a period when our Poetry, following in the steps of our refinement as a nation, and becoming, from the industry and success with which it is cultivated, no less the theme of the aged than the passion of the young,—whilst some superior intellects of the day, in their thirst for distinction, are spending their great powers on startling and vain experiments, it were surprising if there were not some more willing to confine their ambition within the boundaries of classical study, and, tracing the improvements which English Poetry has undergone in its progress, to the Tuscan Muses as their principal source, to explore, as their adventure, the treasures confined under the golden key of Italian language. Never has the inspiration of those Muses been invoked without the most signal advantage, not only to our literature, but our language. It softened, underChaucer, the Saxon roughness of our early tongue; it ruled and regulated the cadences ofSurreyandWyatt, till from an uncouth and often arbitrary metre, our Poetry grew into proportion, harmony, and grace; it gave to the lyres ofSpenser,Milton,Collins, andGray, much of their compass, richness, and luxury of sound. The advantages have indeed been such, and of so permanent a nature, as to lead the historians of our literature to assert, that all the grand renovations which have been made from time to time in our Poetry, have either originally sprung from the Italian school, or been promoted by it. Nor can the increasing taste for Italian literature, spread by the excellent productions ofRoscoe,Foscolo, andMatthias, nor the farther cultivation and extension of it by Commentators and Translators, lead to less important results.
But little, however, has yet been accomplished in giving to England the Poets of Italy; and our writers may with justice observe, that this neglect is a disgrace to our national literature. If we except the Amynta ofTasso, recently given in a good translation by Mr.Hunt; if we exceptFanshaw'sold version ofGuarini'sPastor Fido, so justly eulogised by SirJohn Denham,Lloyd'sAlfieri, and the Dante of Mr.Carey, where shall we look for adequate pictures of her thousand Spirits of Song? This deficiency has arisen from neglect, from disdain, from any thing but inability. What Italy has been in the possession of herDantes, herAriostos, herPetrarcas, and herTassos, England is in herByrons, herScotts, herCampbells, and herMoores; not omitting others that have powers little less, if at all inferior, who might, if they desired it, by Translations almost as original in composition as are those glorious types themselves, become at once personifications of their beauties, and inheritors of their fame. The severe simplicity and wrathful grandeur ofDanteis already transfused with spirit and condensity. There is perhaps but one living poet possessed of an equal versatility of talent, of the same various powers of passionate description, fancy, wit, and whim, to transfuse the Proteus-spirit ofAriosto, the Prince of Romancers; and but one gifted with an equal feeling, melody, and charm of language, who could, with a graceful hand, pour out music and lamentation from the Urn ofPetrarch: buttheycould do it to the life; nor may it be altogether a vain expectation that some of their future hours will be consecrated to the service, and that their names will thus become consociated in immortal brotherhood with the names of these Patriarchs of Italian verse.
But if the writer does not calculate amiss, it is to a Translation ofTasso,—ofTasso, who possesses much of the sublimity and fervour, with nothing of the obscurity ofDante,—the romance and the picture, the fantasy and fire ofAriosto, without his eccentricity and caprice,—the melody, tenderness, classical elegance, and transpicuousness ofPetrarch, without his subtilty: ofTasso,—who, by the specific account ofSerassi, his best biographer, had passed, at the time when he was writing, throughone hundred and thirtyeditions, and had been translated intotwentylanguages and dialects of Europe, that the liveliest sympathy is likely to be accorded, and the greatest favour shown, by a People whose pride must be gratified by the celebrity which he has given in his Poem to the exploits of their ancestors, with minds sufficiently imaginative to abandon themselves at will to the spells of his delightful genius, and with hearts that cannot avoid taking a warm part in the generous heroism of his Rinaldo and Tancred, in the enchanting beauty of Armida, and the yet more interesting fortunes of his sensitive Erminia.
In speaking of the ten former attempts that have been made to giveTassoan English dress, the writer has no desire to undervalue, or unjustly to decry them,—they may all have been more or less serviceable: he is admiringly alive to the harmonies and graces of our most masculineFairfax, as well as to the stoical fidelity of antiqueCarew; but he cannot be blind to their great defects, still less can he shut his eyes upon those empiric pretensions and empty performances of the Usurper of their honours, which have led "theAriostoof theNorth" (whom Britain also tenaciously claims for herBoccaccio) to observe with his characteristic truth and humour, that "to rescue this charming Poet from thefrozen pawsof poor Mr.Hoole, would be to do our literature a service at which he must rejoice." Stimulated by the approbation accorded by his mighty mind, no less than by that of other literary characters whom it would be ostentatious to mention, the task commenced under favourable auspices, and in which great progress is made, will be prosecuted with the care and devotedness which so exquisite a poet demands, and the nature of the measure chosen as most true to his genius, of necessity enforces. It has been observed that Translation is but little popular in England: to render it so with the mass of readers it may be requisite to aim at giving it the air and charm of original composition; but with the very many to whom the Italian poem must be familiar, it cannot be doubted that their pleasure must be doubled in having added to their contemplation of the original their criticism of the artist, more particularly if, as in the fine Translation ofColeridgefromSchiller,—that criticism should fortunately derive gratification from his skill. Neither is theIliadofPopeunpopular, norSotheby's Oberon, nor any Translator who has trod with freedom and spirit in the steps of the Master with whom he has endeavoured to identify himself. But if thenameofTassoshould be insufficient to bespeak attention to a project which cannot be perfected but with great labour of thought, the Author will look for it in the story and the subject, and believe it impossible but that those who view with interest the present exertions of Christian Greece against the Mussulman Ottomite, will still find emotion and amusement in a transcript, though it may prove a too unworthy one, of the celebrated pages in which all Europe stands in banner-array against the despotic Ottomite of the Middle Ages, in a land full of the most sacred recollections.
The Translator submits to the Public the following
PROPOSALS:
The "Jerusalem Delivered" to be translated stanza for stanza from the original, in the measure of the "Fairie Queene:" to be printed in the finest manner, with a beautiful new type cast on purpose for the Work, in Two Volumes Royal Octavo, accompanied with aBiographical Accountof theLifeandWritingsofTasso, with hisPortraitengraved in the first style, and, if the number of Subscribers prove sufficient, with other Embellishments.
PRICE TWO GUINEAS,To be paid on delivery of the Work.
As the object of the Translator is principally to place a work of some value in the libraries of men of letters, no more copies of this Edition will be struck off than are subscribed for: and as the Translation is now near its completion, those Gentlemen who may be desirous of possessing copies are requested to forward their names without delay.
⁂Names of Subscribers are received byHurst,Robinson, and Co. 90,Cheapside, and 8,Pall Mall;Mr.Hookham,Old Bond Street;Treuttel,Wurtz,andRichter,Soho Square;and by theAuthor,Woburn Abbey.A List of Subscribers will be printed collectively with the Volumes, as well as individually after the Dedication leaf.
⁂Names of Subscribers are received byHurst,Robinson, and Co. 90,Cheapside, and 8,Pall Mall;Mr.Hookham,Old Bond Street;Treuttel,Wurtz,andRichter,Soho Square;and by theAuthor,Woburn Abbey.A List of Subscribers will be printed collectively with the Volumes, as well as individually after the Dedication leaf.
NAMES OF SUBSCRIBERS ALREADY RECEIVED.