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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f7a6f7 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63404 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63404) diff --git a/old/63404-0.txt b/old/63404-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 06fc36b..0000000 --- a/old/63404-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,19209 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Galatea, by Miguel Cervantes Saavedra - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Galatea - -Author: Miguel Cervantes Saavedra - -Editor: Jas Fitzmaurice-Kellly - -Translator: H. Oelsner - A. B. Welford - -Release Date: October 8, 2020 [EBook #63404] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GALATEA *** - - - - -Produced by Andrés V. Galia and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES - -Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. - -The book cover was modified by the Transcriber and added to the public -domain. - -The Table of Contents was added by the Transcriber. - -The spelling of Spanish names and places mentioned in the text has been -adjusted to the rules set by the Academia Real Española. The spelling -of quotations in ancient Spanish presented in the text haves been kept -as they were written in the oriignal work. - -A number of words in this book have both hyphenated and non-hyphenated -variants. For the words with both variants present the one more used -has been kept. - -Punctuation and other printing errors have been corrected. - - * * * * * - - THE COMPLETE WORKS - OF - MIGUEL DE CERVANTES - IN TWELVE VOLUMES - - VOL. II. - - - Agent for London. - R. BRIMLEY JOHNSON, - 4 Adam Street, - Adelphi, W.C. - - - THE·COMPLETE·WORKS·OF·MIGUEL - DE·CERVANTES·SAAVEDRA·VOL·II - GALATEA - - EDITED·BY·JAS·FITZMAURICE-KELLY - TRANSLATED·BY·H·OELSNER·&·A·B·WELFORD - - GOWANS·&·GRAY·GLASGOW·NOV·1^{ST} 1903 - - [Illustration] - - - PUBLISHERS' NOTE - - in explanation of the different types employed. - - -In order to prevent a difficulty that sometimes arises of -distinguishing between the author and the editor, especially when -author's and editor's notes to a text both occur, the following plan -has been adopted. The text of the author and its variants have been -printed throughout in 'old style' type, while all notes &c. added by -the editor have been set in 'condensed' type. It is hoped that this -innovation will be found of no small service to the general reader as -well as to the student. - - - - - INDEX - - Pag. - - INTRODUCTION TO GALATEA vii - - PROLOGUE 5 - - BOOK I 9 - - BOOK II 50 - - BOOK III 95 - - BOOK IV 143 - - BOOK V 191 - - BOOK VI 240 - - - - - INTRODUCTION TO THE GALATEA. - -Simple as the bibliography of the _Galatea_ really is, a habit of -conjecture has succeeded in complicating it. Though the earliest -known edition of the book is unanimously admitted to have appeared at -Alcalá de Henares in 1585, it is often alleged that the _princeps_ -was actually issued at Madrid during the previous year. This is a -mistaken idea arising, probably, out of a slip made by Gregorio Mayáns -y Siscar, the first Spaniard[1] who attempted to write a formal -biography of Cervantes. In his thirteenth paragraph Mayáns[2] remarked -by the way that the _Galatea_ was published in 1584; but he laid no -stress upon the date, and dismissed the matter in a single sentence. -The error (if it were really an error, and not a mere misprint) was -natural and pardonable enough in one who lived before bibliography -had developed into an exact study. Unfortunately, it was reproduced -by others. It is found, for instance, in a biographical essay on -Cervantes which precedes the first edition of _Don Quixote_ issued by -the Royal Spanish Academy;[3] and the essayist, Vicente de los Ríos, -adds the detail that the _Galatea_ came out at Madrid. It was unlucky -that this statement should be put forward where it is. The Academy's -responsibility for the texts issued in its name is chiefly financial: -for the rest, it habitually appoints the most competent representatives -available, and it naturally gives each delegate a free hand. But -foreigners, unacquainted with the procedure, have imagined that Ríos -must be taken as expressing the deliberate and unanimous opinion of -the entire Academy. This is a complete misapprehension. On the face -of it, it is absurd to suppose that any corporation, as a whole, is -irrevocably committed to every view expressed by individual members. -Even were it otherwise, it would not affect the case. An error would be -none the less an error if a learned society sanctioned it. But, as a -matter of fact, like all those concerned in editing texts or in writing -essays for the Academy, Ríos spoke for himself alone. He was followed -by Pellicer[4] who, though he gives 1584 as the date of the _princeps_, -is less categorical as to the place of publication. Some twenty-two -years after Pellicer's time, Fernández de Navarrete[5] accepted his -predecessors' view as regards the date, and to this acceptance, -more than to anything else, the common mistake is due. Relying on -Navarrete's unequalled authority, Ticknor[6] repeated the mis-statement -which has since passed into general circulation. Further enquiry has -destroyed the theory that the _Galatea_ first appeared at Madrid in -1584. However, as most English writers[7] on this question have given -currency to the old, erroneous notion, it becomes necessary to set -forth the circumstances of the case. But, before entering upon details, -it should be observed (1) that no copy of the supposititious 1584 -edition has ever been seen by any one; (2) that there is not even an -indirect proof of its existence; and (3) that, so far as the evidence -goes, no edition of the _Galatea_ was published at Madrid before 1736: -that is to say, until more than a century after Cervantes's death. - -We do not know precisely when the _Galatea_ was written. M. Dumaine,[8] -indeed, declares positively that the poems in the volume--he must -surely mean some of them, not all--were addressed to a lady during the -author's stay in Italy. If this were so, these verses would date (at -latest) from September, 1575, when Cervantes left Italy for the last -time. Sr. D. José María Asensio y Toledo[9] holds that the _Galatea_ -was begun in Portugal soon after the writer's return from Algiers in -1580. Of these views one may conceivably be true; one must necessarily -be false; and it is more than possible that both are wrong. As no data -are forthcoming to support either opinion, we may profitably set aside -these speculations and proceed to examine the particulars disclosed -in the preliminaries of the _Galatea_. The _Aprobación_ was signed by -Lucas Gracián[10] Dantisco at Madrid on February 1, 1584, and, as some -time must have passed between the submission of the manuscript to the -censor and the issue of his license, it seems certain that the text of -the _Galatea_ was finished before the end of 1583. In its present form, -the dedication, as will be seen presently, cannot have been written -till about the end of the following summer. Meanwhile, on February -22, 1584, the _Privilegio_ was granted at Madrid in the King's name -by Antonio de Erasso. It was not till a year later--the very end of -February 1585--that the _Fe de erratas_ was passed at Alcalá de Henares -by the Licenciado Vares de Castro, official corrector to the University -of that city. The _Tasa_, which bears the name of Miguel Ondarza -Zabala, was despatched at Madrid on March 13, 1585. - -To those who have had no occasion to study such matters as these, the -space of time which elapsed between the concession of the _Privilegio_ -and the despatch of the _Tasa_ might seem considerable; and it is not -surprising that this circumstance should be the basis of erroneous -deductions on their part. Apparently for no other reason than the -length of this interval, it has been concluded that, between February -22, 1584, and March 13, 1585, there was printed at Madrid an edition of -the _Galatea_, every copy of which has--_ex hypothesi_--vanished. This -assumption is gratuitous. - -It is true that the first editions of certain very popular Spanish -books--such as the _Celestina_,[11] _Amadís de Gaula_,[12] _Lazarillo -de Tormes_,[13] _Guzmán de Alfarache_,[14] and _Don Quixote_[15]--tend -to become exceedingly rare and are, perhaps, occasionally thumbed out -of existence altogether. But the _Galatea_, like all pastoral novels, -appealed to a comparatively restricted class of readers, and was in no -danger of wide popularity. No doubt the _princeps_ of the _Galatea_ is -exceptionally rare,[16]--rarer than the _princeps_ of _Don Quixote_; -but rarity, taken by itself, is no proof that a work was popular, and, -in the present instance, the rarity may be due to the fact that the -_Galatea_ was issued in a more or less limited edition. This is what -we should expect in the case of a first book published in a provincial -town by an author who had still to make his reputation; but, in the -absence of direct testimony, the question cannot be decided. What -can be proved by any one at all acquainted with Spanish bibliography -is that there was no unexampled delay in publishing the _Galatea_. -Similar instances abound; but, for our present purpose, it will -suffice to mention two which are--or should be--familiar to all who -are specially interested in Cervantes and in his writings. As we have -just seen, the _Tasa_ of the _Galatea_ is dated thirteen months after -the _Aprobación_. An exact parallel to this is afforded by Cervantes's -own _Novelas exemplares_: Fray Juan Bautista signed the _Aprobación_ -on July 9, 1612, and Hernando de Vallejo signed the _Tasa_ on August -12, 1613.[17] Here the interval is precisely thirteen months. A still -more striking instance of dilatoriness is revealed in the preliminaries -to another work which has been consulted--or, at least, quoted as -though it were familiar to them--by almost all writers on Cervantes -from 1761 onwards: namely, Diego de Haedo's _Topographia e Historia -general de Argel_, published at Valladolid in 1612. Haedo obtained the -_Aprobación_ on October 6, 1604, but the licence was not given till -February 8, 1610. In this instance, then, the legal formalities were -spread out over five years and, at the final stage, there was a further -pause of three years; in all, a delay of eight years.[18] There is -no ground for assuming that the official procedure in these matters -was more expeditions in 1585 than it was a quarter of a century later -and, consequently, in the case of the _Galatea_, the interval of time -between the issue of the _Aprobación_ and the despatch of the _Tasa_ -cannot be regarded as calling for any far-fetched explanation. - -The author's Letter Dedicatory to Ascanio Colonna, Abbot of St. Sophia, -is undated, but it contains a passage which incidentally throws -light on the bibliography of the _Galatea_. Speaking of his military -service under Ascanio Colonna's father, Cervantes mentions his late -chief--_aquel sol de la milicia que ayer nos quitó el cielo delante -de los ojos_--in terms which imply that Marco Antonio Colonna's death -was a comparatively recent event. Now, we know from the official -death-certificate[19] that the Viceroy of Sicily, when on his way to -visit Philip II., died at Medinaceli on August 1, 1584--exactly six -months after the _Aprobación_ for the _Galatea_ had been obtained. -Allowing for the rate at which news travelled in the sixteenth century, -it seems improbable that Cervantes can have written his dedication -much before the end of August 1584. It is conceivable, no doubt, -that he wrote two different dedications--one for the alleged Madrid -edition of 1584, and another for the Alcalá edition of 1585. It is -equally conceivable that though the Alcalá edition of the _Galatea_, in -common with every subsequent work by Cervantes, has a dedication, the -supposititious Madrid edition was (for some reason unknown) published -without one. Manifestly, one of these alternatives must be adopted -by believers in the imaginary _princeps_. But, curiously enough, -the point does not appear to have occurred to them; for, up to the -present time, no such hypothesis has been advanced. Assuming, as we -may fairly assume, that only one dedication was written, the complete -manuscript of the _Galatea_ cannot well have reached the compositors -till September or October 1584. It is possible that some part of the -text was set up before this date, but of this we have no proof. If -the 375 leaves--750 pages--of which the book consists were struck -off late in January or early in February 1585, so as to allow of the -text being revised by the official corrector at Alcalá de Henares, -and thence forwarded to Madrid by the beginning of March, it must be -admitted that the achievement did credit to the country printer, Juan -de Gracián, whose name figures on the title-page. Further, as Salvá[20] -shrewdly remarks, the appearance of the Colonna escutcheon on this -same title-page affords a presumption that the Alcalá edition of 1585 -is the _princeps_: for it is unreasonable to suppose that a struggling -provincial publisher of the sixteenth century would go to the expense -of furnishing a simple reprint with a complimentary woodcut. - -Each of the foregoing circumstances, considered separately, tells -against the current idea that the _Galatea_ was published at Madrid in -1584, and it might have been hoped that an intelligent consideration -of their cumulative effect would ensure the right conclusion: that -the story is a myth. But, so Donoso Cortés[21] maintained, man has an -almost invincible propensity to error, and the discussion on so plain a -matter as the bibliography of the _Galatea_ lends colour to this view. -The amount of confusion introduced into the debate is extraordinary. -It is occasionally difficult to gather what a partisan of the alleged -1584 edition holds; his pages blaze with contradictions: his theory is -half-heartedly advanced, hastily abandoned, and confidently re-stated -in a bewildering fashion.[22] Again, what was originally put forward -as a pious opinion is transfigured into a dogma. Just as there are -some who, when writing on the bibliography of _Don Quixote_, insist -that the 1608 edition of that book "must have been revised by the -author,"[23] so there are some who, when writing on the bibliography -of the _Galatea_, insist with equal positiveness that there "must have -been an edition of 1584."[24] This emphasis is out of place in both -cases; but it is interesting and instructive to note that these two -opinions are practically inseparable from each other. The coincidence -can scarcely be accidental, and it may prove advantageous: for, -obviously, the refutation of the one thesis must tend to discredit the -other. If a writer be convicted of error in a very simple matter which -can be tested in a moment, it would clearly be imprudent to accept his -unsupported statement concerning a far more complex matter to which -no direct test can be applied. And, as it happens, we are now enabled -to measure the accuracy of the assertion that the _princeps_ of the -_Galatea_ was published at Madrid in 1584. - -Those who take it upon themselves to lay down that there "must have -been" an edition of that place and date are bound to establish the -fact. They are not entitled to defy every rule of evidence, and to -call on the other side to prove a negative. The burden of proof lies -wholly with them. But, by a rare and happy accident, it is possible to -prove a negative in the present case. In view of recent researches, the -theory that the _princeps_ of the _Galatea_ was issued at Madrid in -1584 is absolutely untenable. All doubts or hesitations on this head -are ended by the opportune discovery, due to that excellent scholar -and fortunate investigator, Dr. Pérez Pastor, of the original contract -between Cervantes and the Alcalá publisher, Blas de Robles. By this -contract Blas de Robles binds himself to pay 1336 _reales_ (£29. 13s. -9d. English) for the author's entire rights.[25] This legal instrument -is decisive, for it would be ridiculous--not to say impertinent--to -suppose that Cervantes sold his interest twice over to two different -publishers in two different cities. There can, therefore, be no -further controversy as to when and where the _Galatea_ appeared. It -is now placed beyond dispute that Cervantes had not found a publisher -before June 1584, and that the book was issued at Alcalá de Henares in -1585--probably not before the month of April. The first intention was -to entitle the volume _Los seys libros de Galatea_ but (perhaps with a -view to emphasizing the promise of a sequel) it was actually published -as the _Primera Parte de la Galatea, dividida en seys libros_.[26] On -June 14, 1584, Cervantes received 1116 _reales_ in advance, and, by -a deed of the same date, Blas de Robles undertook to pay the balance -of 250 _reales_ at the end of September:[27] the very period when, as -already conjectured, the printing was begun.[28] - -Cervantes was in his thirty-third year when he was ransomed at -Algiers on September 19, 1580, and, when he reached Portugal in 1581, -he may have intended to enlist once more. It has, in fact, been -generally thought that he shared in at least one of the expeditions -against the Azores under the famous Marqués de Santa Cruz in 1581-83. -This belief is based on the _Información_ presented by Cervantes at -Madrid on June 6, 1590;[29] but in this petition to the King the claims -of Rodrigo de Cervantes and Miguel de Cervantes are set forth in so -confusing a fashion that it is difficult to distinguish the services -of the elder brother from those of the junior. It is certain that -Rodrigo served at the Azores in 1583, and we learn from Mosquera de -Figueroa that he was promoted from the ranks for his distinguished -gallantry in the action before Porto das Moas.[30] But it is by no -means clear that Miguel de Cervantes took any part in either campaign. -Such evidence as we have tells rather against the current supposition. -It is ascertained that Cervantes was at Tomar on May 21, 1581, and -that he was at Cartagena towards the end of June 1581, while we have -documentary evidence to prove that he pawned five pieces of yellow and -red taffeta to Napoléon Lomelin at Madrid in the autumn of 1583.[31] If -these dates are correct (as they seem to be), it is scarcely possible -that Cervantes can have sailed with Santa Cruz for the Azores.[32] The -likelihood is that he had to be content with some civil employment and, -if so, it was natural enough that he should turn to literature with a -view to increasing his small income. A modest, clear-sighted man, he -probably did not imagine that he was about to write masterpieces, or -to make a fortune by his pen. He perhaps hoped to keep the wolf from -the door, or, at the most, to find a rich patron, as his friend Gálvez -de Montalvo had done.[33] If these were his ideas, and if, as seems -likely, he thought of marrying at about this time, it is not surprising -that he should write what he believed would sell. So far as we can -judge, he would much rather have wielded a sword than a goose-quill, -and he was far too great a humorist to vapour about "art" or an -"irresistible vocation." His juvenile verses had found favour with Juan -López de Hoyos, and perhaps Rufino de Chamberí had appreciated the two -sonnets written in Algiers; but the spirited tercets to Mateo Vázquez -had failed of their effect, and Cervantes was shrewd enough to know -that versifying was not lucrative. Eighty years before it was uttered, -he realized the truth of the divine Gombauld's dying exclamation: _On -paie si mal des vers immortels!_ Fortunately, he had many strings to -his bow. Like Lope de Vega, he was prepared to attempt anything and -everything: prose or verse, the drama, picaresque tales, novels of -adventure, and the rest. But, to begin with, he divided his efforts -between the theatre and fiction. - -In the latter province the path of a beginner was clearly marked out. -Too obscure, as yet, to venture upon a line of his own, and anxious, -if possible, to conciliate the general body of readers, Cervantes -was practically compelled to choose between the chivalresque romance -and the pastoral. Not knowing that he was born to kill the former -kind, he decided in favour of the latter--and for obvious reasons. -The Knight-errantries of Amadís and his comrades had been in vogue -from the fourteenth--perhaps even from the thirteenth[34]--century -onwards. _Amadís de Gaula_ was printed at least as early as 1508,[35] -and had begotten a numerous tribe; but, when Cervantes was feeling his -way in the ninth decade of the sixteenth century, popular enthusiasm -for these tales of chivalry was cooling. The pastoral novel was the -latest literary fashion. It would, possibly, be too much to say that -the Spanish pastoral novel was a mere offshoot of the chivalresque -romances; yet it is undeniable that the pastoral element is found in -chivalresque stories of comparatively early date. For example, in -the ninth book of _Amadís_, entitled _Amadís de Grecia_ (1530) the -shepherd Darinel and the shepherdess Sylvia are among the characters; -in the first two parts of _Don Florisel de Niquea_ (1532) the hero -masquerades as a shepherd and pays his court to the shepherdess Sylvia; -in the fourth part of _Don Florisel de Niquea_ (1551) the eclogues of -Archileo and Laris are early instances of what was destined to become a -tedious convention.[36] These, however, are simple foreshadowings of an -independent school of fiction which was in full vigour while Cervantes -was still a boy. - -The Spanish chivalresque novel is thought by many sound judges to -derive directly from Portugal,[37] which may, in its turn, have -received the material of its knightly tales--and perhaps something -more than the raw material--from Celtic France.[38] The conclusion -is disputed,[39] but whatever opinion may prevail as regards the -source of the books of chivalry, it seems fairly certain that the -pastoral novel was introduced into Spain by a Portuguese writer whose -inspiration came to him from Italy. In a general sense, Virgil is the -father of the pastoral in all Latin lands: the more immediate source -of the Italian pastoral is believed to be Boccaccio's _Ameto_, the -model of Tasso and Guarini as also of Bembo and Sannasaro. Jacopo -Sannazaro,[40] a Neapolitan courtier of Spanish descent, is the -connecting link between the literatures of Italy and the Peninsula -during the first part of the sixteenth century. His vogue in the -latter was enhanced through the instrumentality of the renowned poet -Garcilaso de la Vega,[41] the "starry paladin" of Spain. No small part -of Garcilaso's work is a poetic recasting of Sannazaro's themes,[42] -and we can scarcely doubt that Sannazaro's _Arcadia_ suggested the -first genuine Spanish pastoral to the Portuguese, Jorge de Montemôr, -so called from his birthplace. The point has been contested, for -Montemôr's _Siete libros de la Diana_ are often said to have been -published in 1542,[43] and the first Spanish translation of Sannazaro's -_Arcadia_ (by Diego López de Ayala) does not appear to have been issued -till 1547.[44] It may, however, be taken as established that Montemôr's -_Diana_ was not really printed much earlier than 1558-9,[45] when it -at once became the fashion.[46] The argument sets forth that in the -city of León, by the banks of the Ezla, dwelt the beautiful shepherdess -Diana, beloved of the shepherds Sireno and Silvano; the shepherdess -favours Sireno, who is suddenly called away to foreign countries, -whence he returns a year later to find a change of times and hearts, -Diana being wedded to the shepherd Delio: "and here beginneth the -first book, and in the remainder you shall find very diverse histories -of events which in sooth befell, howbeit travestied under a pastoral -style." Montemôr's diverse histories, which owe something to Bernardim -Ribeiro's _Saudades_ or _Hystoria de Menina e moça_[47] (a novel that -begins as a chivalresque romance and ends as a pastoral tale), took -Western Europe by storm. They may have been in Spenser's mind when -he wrote _The Shepherd's Calendar_: they were unquestionably utilized -by Sir Philip Sidney in _The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia_, and it -has been alleged with more or less plausibility that--possibly through -Bartholomew Yong's version of Montemôr, which was finished in 1583, -though not published till fifteen years later--the episode of Felismena -has been transferred from the _Diana_ to the _Two Gentlemen of Verona_. - -The _Diana_ ends with the promise of a Second Part in which the -shepherd Danteo and the shepherdess Duarda shall figure, but this -Second Part was not forthcoming as Montemôr was killed in Piedmont on -February 26, 1561.[48] His design was very badly executed in 1564 by -his friend Alonso Pérez, a Salamancan physician, who had the assurance -to boast that there was scarcely a scrap of original prose or verse in -his volume, the whole (as he vaunts) being stolen and imitated from -Latins and Italians. "Nor," adds this astonishing doctor, "do I deem -that I am in any sort to blame therefor, since they did as much by the -Greeks."[49] Another, and a far better, continuation of Montemôr's -_Diana_ was issued at Valencia in this same year of 1664 by Gaspar Gil -Polo--a sequel which, after proving almost as successful as Montemôr's -original, was destined to be plagiarized in the most shameless fashion -by Hierónimo de Texeda.[50] - -That Cervantes was well acquainted with these early Spanish pastorals -is proved by the discussion on the little books--contrasting with the -hundred and more stately folios of the chivalresque romances--in Don -Quixote's library. The niece of the Ingenious Gentleman thought that -these slimmer volumes should "be burned as well as the others; for it -would be no wonder if, after being cured of his chivalry disorder, my -uncle, by reading these, took a fancy to turn shepherd and range the -woods and fields singing and piping." The Priest agrees in principle, -but in practice he is more mercifully disposed:--"To begin, then, with -the _Diana_ of Montemayor. I am of opinion it should not be burned, but -that it should be cleared of all that about the sage Felicia and the -magic water,[51] and of almost all the longer pieces of verse: let it -keep, and welcome, its prose and the honour of being the first of books -of the kind." And when questioned concerning the above-named sequels, -the judicious Priest declares:--"As for that of the Salamancan, let it -go to swell the number of the condemned in the yard, and let Gil Polo's -be preserved as if it came from Apollo himself." With this jest on Gil -Polo's name, the Priest passes over the next in order of the pastoral -novels, Jerónimo de Arbolanche's _Las Habidas_ (1566)[52]--a very rare -work which, though not on Don Quixote's shelves, was more or less -vaguely known to Cervantes[53]--to pronounce judgment on _Los diez -Libros de Fortuna d'Amor_, an amazingly foolish book published in 1573 -by a Sardinian soldier named Antonio de lo Frasso. Cervantes was just -the man to praise (if possible) the work of an old comrade-in-arms, -and, in fact, he contrived (through the Priest) to express his opinion -of lo Frasso's book in terms which proved misleading:--"By the orders -I have received, since Apollo has been Apollo, and the Muses have been -Muses, and poets have been poets, so droll and absurd a book as this -has never been written, and in its way it is the best and the most -singular of all of this species that have as yet appeared, and he who -has not read it may be sure he has never read what is delightful. -Give it here, gossip, for I make more account of having found it -than if they had given me a cassock of Florence stuff." It might seem -difficult to interpret this as praise, and impossible to misunderstand -the Priest's delight at meeting with what had already become a -bibliographical rarity; but, some hundred and thirty years later, the -last words of the passage were taken seriously and led to a reprint of -lo Frasso's book by Pedro de Pineda, one of the correctors of Tonson's -_Don Quixote_, who had manifestly overlooked the ridicule of the -Sardinian in the _Viaje del Parnaso_.[54] - -These pastorals, together with the chivalresque romances, had probably -been the entertainment of Cervantes's youth. It was probably another -and much later essay of the same kind which induced him to try his luck -in the pastoral vein: the _Pastor de Fílida_, published at Madrid in -1582 by his friend Luis Gálvez de Montalvo, who is said (on doubtful -authority, as we shall see presently) to have introduced Cervantes in -his text as the shepherd Tirsi--_de clarísimo ingenio_. Whether this -be so, or not, Cervantes, in his usual kindly, indulgent way, places -his friend's work on Don Quixote's shelves, and treats it with gracious -deference:--"No Pastor that, but a highly polished courtier; let it -be preserved as a precious jewel." The book has but trifling interest -for us nowadays; yet we may be sure that Cervantes's admiration was -whole-hearted, and the fact that the volume passed through several -editions[55] vindicates him from any suspicion of excessive partiality. -It was his fine habit to praise generously. Neither his temperament -nor his training was critical, and he attached even more than its due -importance to the verdict of the public. He frankly rejoiced in Gálvez -de Montalvo's success, and it is not unreasonable to conjecture that -this success helped to hasten the appearance of the _Galatea_. - -It may seem strange that Cervantes, whose transcriptions from life are -eminently distinguished for truth and force, should have been induced -to experiment in the province of artificial, languid pastoralism. But -if, as Taine would have it, climate makes the race, the race makes -the individual, and at this period the races of Western Europe had -gone (so to say) pastorally mad.[56] The pastoral novel is not to our -modern taste; but, as there is no more stability in literature than in -politics, its day may come again.[57] In Cervantes's time there was -no escaping from the prose idyll. Prodigious tales from the Indies -had stimulated the popular appetite for wonders, and the demand was -supplied to satiety in the later chivalresque romances. Feliciano de -Silva and his fellows could think of nothing better than the systematic -exaggeration of the most marvellous episodes in _Amadís de Gaula_. The -adventures became more perilous, the knights more fantastically brave, -the ladies (if possible) lovelier, the wizards craftier, the giants -huger, the monsters more terrific, and so forth. In this vein nothing -more was to be done: the formula was exhausted. The rival and more -cultured school, founded by Sannazaro, endeavoured to lead men's minds -from these noisy banalities to the placid contemplation of nature, or -rather of idealized antiquity, by substituting for the din of arms, the -stir of cities, and the furrowing of strange oceans by the prows of -vulgar traders, the still, primeval - - "Summers of the snakeless meadow, unlaborious earth, and oarless sea." - -Unluckily no departure from Sannazaro's original pattern was thought -legitimate. Sir Philip Sidney rejects every attempt at innovation with -the crushing remark that "neyther Theocritus in Greek, Virgill in -Latine, nor Sanazar in Italian did affect it."[58] Hence the unbroken -monotony of the pastoral convention. Nothing is easier than to mock at -this new Arcadia where beauteous shepherdesses vanish discreetly behind -glades and brakes, where golden-mouthed shepherds exchange confidences -of unrequited passion, arguing the high metaphysical doctrine of -Platonic love, or chanting most melancholy madrigals at intervals which -the seasoned reader can calculate to a nicety beforehand. There never -was, and never could be, such an atmosphere of deliberate dilettantism -in such a world as ours. Taken as a whole these late Renascence -pastorals weary us, as Sidney's _Arcadia_ wearied Hazlitt, with their -everlasting "alliteration, antithesis and metaphysical conceit," -their "continual, uncalled-for interruptions, analysing, dissecting, -disjointing, murdering everything, and reading a pragmatical, -self-sufficient lecture over the dead body of nature." Briefly, while -these pastoral writers of the sixteenth century persuaded themselves -and their readers that they were returning to communion with hills -and forests, to us it seems as though they offered little beyond -unassimilated reminiscences of conventional classicism. - -It would be idle to deny that the _Galatea_ has many defects of -the school to which it belongs, but it must always have a singular -interest as being the first serious literary experiment made by a -writer of consummate genius. Cervantes had the model, the sacred model, -perpetually before his eyes, and he copied it (if not with conviction) -with a grim determination which speaks for itself. He, too,--the -_ingenio lego_--must be interpolating his learning, and referring to -Virgil, Ovid, Propertius and the rest of them, with an air of intimate -familiarity. Twenty years afterwards, when he had outgrown these little -affectations, and was penning the amusing passage in which he banters -Lope's childish pedantry,[59] the brilliant humorist must surely have -smiled as he remembered his own performances in the same kind. He -does honour to the grand tradition of prolixity by putting wiredrawn -conceits into the mouths of shepherds who are much more like love-sick -Abelards than like Comatas or Lacon, and, when his own stock of -scholastic subtleties is ended, he has no scruple in allotting to Lenio -and Tirsi[60] a short summary of the arguments which had been used -long before by Filone and Sofía in his favourite book, León Hebreo's -_Dialoghi di Amore_.[61] Had he taken far more material than he -actually took, he would have been well within his rights, according to -the prevailing ideas of literary morality. Whatever illiterate admirers -may say, it is certain that Cervantes followed the fashion in borrowing -freely from his predecessors. No careful reader of the _Galatea_ can -doubt that its author either had Sannazaro's _Arcadia_ on his table, or -that he knew it almost by heart.[62] His appreciation for the _Arcadia_ -was unbounded, and in the _Viaje del Parnaso_[63] the sight of Posilipo -causes him to link together the names of Virgil and Sannazaro:-- - - Vímonos en un punto en el paraje, - Do la nutriz de Eneas piadoso - Hizo el forzoso y último pasaje. - Vimos desde allí á poco el más famoso - Monte que encierra en sí nuestro hemisfero, - Más gallardo á la vista y más hermoso. - Las cenizas de Títiro y Sincero - Están en él, y puede ser por esto - Nombrado entre los montes por primero. - -In the _Galatea_, enthusiasm takes the form of conscientious imitation. -It cannot be mere coincidence that Ergasto's song--_Alma beata et -bella_--is echoed by Elicio as _O alma venturosa_; that such a -_ritornello_ as _Ricominciate, o Muse, il vostro pianto_ reappears -as _Pastores, entonad el triste canto_; that _Ponete fin, o Muse, -al vostro pianto_ is rendered as _Pastores, cesad ya del triste -canto_. The sixth book of the _Galatea_ is an undisguised adaptation -of Sannazaro's work. In view of these resemblances, and many others -indicated by Professor Scherillo,[64] the large indebtedness of -Cervantes to Sannazaro cannot be denied. - -Nor are León Hebreo and Sannazaro Cervantes's sole creditors. The -_Canto de Calíope_, which commemorates the merits of a hundred poets -and poetasters, was probably suggested by the _Canto de Turia_ in the -third book of Gil Polo's _Diana enamorada_, or by the list of rhymers -in Boscán's _Octava Rima_, or even by a similar catalogue interpolated -in the thirty-eighth canto of Luis Zapata's unreadable epic, _Carlos -famoso_.[65] It may be pleaded for Cervantes that he admired Boscán, -Gil Polo, and Zapata, and that his imitation of them is natural enough. -_Sea muy enhorabuena._ The same explanation cannot apply to the uncanny -resemblance, which Professor Rennert[66] has pointed out, between the -address to Nisida in the third book of the _Galatea_ and the letter -to Cardenia in the second book of Alonso Pérez' worthless sequel to -Montemôr's _Diana_. Had Cervantes remembered this small loan when -writing the sixth chapter of _Don Quixote_, gratitude would probably -have led him to pass a more lenient sentence on the impudent Salamancan -doctor. - -It was in strict accordance with the pastoral tradition that the -author should introduce himself and his friends into his story. In -Virgil's Fifth Eclogue, Daphnis was said to stand for Julius Cæsar, -Mopsus for Æmilius Macer of Verona, Menalcas for the poet himself. -Sannazaro had, it was believed, revived the fashion in Italy.[67] -Ribeiro presented himself to the public as Bimnardel, Montemôr -asked for sympathy under the name of Sireno, and Sir Philip Sidney -masqueraded as Pyrocles. In the _Pastor de Fílida_, it is understood -that Mendino is Don Enrique de Mendoza y Aragón, that Pradileo is the -Conde de Prades (Luis Ramón y Folch), that Silvano is the poet Gregorio -Silvestre, that Tirsi is Francisco de Figueroa (or, as some rashly -say,[68] Cervantes), and that Montalvo himself appears as Siralvo. -The new recruit observed the precedents and, if we are to accept the -authority of Navarrete,[69] the Tirsi, Damon, Meliso, Siralvo, Lauso, -Larsileo, and Artidoro of the _Galatea_ are pseudonyms for Francisco -de Figueroa, Pedro Láinez, Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, Luis Gálvez de -Montalvo, Luis Barahona de Soto, Alonso de Ercilla, and Andrés Rey de -Artieda respectively.[70] Lastly, commentators and biographers are -mostly agreed that the characters of Elicio and Galatea stand for -Cervantes and for Doña Catalina de Palacios Salazar y Vozmediano[71] -whom he married some ten months after the official _Aprobación_ to his -novel was signed. We know on Cervantes's own statement that many of -his shepherds were shepherds in appearance only,[72] and Lope de Vega -confirms the tradition;[73] but we shall do well to remember that, in -attempting to identify the characters of a romance with personages in -real life, conjecture plays a considerable part.[74] Some of the above -identifications might easily be disputed, and, at the best, we can -scarcely doubt that most of the likenesses given by Cervantes in the -_Galatea_ are composite portraits. - -In any case, it is difficult to take a deep interest in Cervantes's -seventy-one[75] shepherds and shepherdesses. Their sensibility is -too exquisite for this world. Among the swains, Lisandro, Silenio, -Mireno, Grisaldo, Erastro, Damon, Telesio, Lauso, and Lenio weep -most copiously. Among the nymphs, Galatea, Lidia, Rosaura, Teolinda, -Maurisa, Nisida and Blanca choke with tears. Teolinda, Leonarda and -Rosaura swoon; Silerio, Timbrio, Darinto, Elicio and Lenio drop down in -a dead faint. In mind and body these shepherds and shepherdesses are -exceptionally endowed. They can remain awake for days. They can recite, -without slurring a comma, a hundred or two hundred lines of a poem -heard once, years ago; and the casuistry of their amorous dialectics -would do credit to Sánchez or Escobar. All this is common form. A -generation later, Honoré d'Urfé replied to the few who might accuse -Astrée of talking above her station:--"Reponds-leur, ma Bergere, que -pour peu qu'ils ayent connoissance de toy, ils sçauront que tu n'es -pas, ny celles aussi qui te suiuent, de ces Bergeres necessiteuses -qui pour gagner leur vie conduisent les troupeaux aux pasturages: -mais que vous n'auez toutes pris cette condition que pour viure plus -doucement & sans contrainte. Que si vos conceptions & vos paroles -estoient veritablement telles que celles des Bergers ordinaires, -ils auroient aussi peu de plaisir de vous escouter que vous auriez -beaucoup de honte à les redire."[76] The plea was held to be good. The -pastoral convention of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries thrust -out all realism as an unclean thing. The pity is that Cervantes, in -his effort to conform to the rule, was compelled to stifle what was -best and rarest in his genius. Yet, amid these philosophizings and -artificialities, a few gleams of his peculiar, parenthetical humour -flash from him unawares: as when the refined Teolinda seeks to console -Lidia--_limpiándole los ojos con la manga de mi camisa_:[77] or in the -description of Crisalvo's fury--_que le sacaba de juicio, aunque él -tenía tan poco, que poco era menester para acabárselo_: or in Arsindo's -thoughtful remark that the shepherds might possibly be missed by the -flocks from which they had been absent for the last ten days. Again, -there is a foreshadowing of a famous passage in _Don Quixote_ when the -writer compares the shepherd's life with the courtier's. Once more, -the story of Timbrio's adventures--which are anything but idyllic--is -given with uncommon spirit. There are ingenuity and fancy in many -of the poems, and there is interest as well as grace in the little -autobiographical touches--the mention of Arnaute Mamí, the local -patriotism that surges up in allusions to the river Henares on which -stands the author's native town--_el gran Compluto_, as he says in his -eloquent way. - -Cervantes is admittedly a wonderful creator; but the pastoral of -his time--a pastiche or mosaic of conventional figures--gave him -no opportunity of displaying his powers as an inventor. He is -also a very great prose-writer, ranging with an easy mastery from -the loftiest rhetoric to the quick thrust-and-parry of humoristic -colloquy. Still, as has often been remarked, his attention is apt to -wander, and vigilant grammarians have detected (and chronicled) slips -in his most brilliant chapters. In the matter of correctness, the -_Galatea_ compares favourably with _Don Quixote_, and its style has -been warmly eulogized by the majority of critics. And, on the whole, -the praise is deserved. The _Galatea_ is (one fancies) the result of -much deliberation--the preliminary essay of a writer no longer young -indeed, but abounding in hope, in courage, and in knowledge of the -best literary models which his country had produced. The First Part -of _Don Quixote_ was dashed off at odds and ends of time by a man -acquainted with rebuffs, poverty, disastrous failure of every kind. -Purists may point to five grammatical flaws in _Don Quixote_ for one -in the _Galatea_, and naturally the latter gains by this comparison. -But, whatever the technical weaknesses of _Don Quixote_, that book has -the supreme merit of allowing Cervantes to be himself. In the _Galatea_ -he is, so far as his means allow, Virgil, Longus, Boccaccio, Petrarch, -León Hebreo, Sannazaro, Montemôr--even the unhappy Pérez--every one, in -fact, but himself. Hence, in the very nature of things, the smoothly -filed periods of this first romance cease to be characteristic of the -writer, and have even led some to charge him with being a corrupter of -the language, a _culto_ before _culteranismo_ was invented.[78] - -The charm of Cervantes's style, at its best, lies in its spontaneity, -strength, variety, swiftness, and noble simplicity: it is the -unrestrained expression of his most original and seductive personality. -In the _Galatea_, on the other hand, Cervantes is too often an echo, a -timid copyist, reproducing the accepted _clichés_ with an exasperating -scrupulousness. Galatea is _discreta_, Silvia is _discreta_, Teolinda -is _discreta_: Lisandro is _discreto_, Artidoro is _discreto_, Damon -is _discreto_. The noun and its regulation epithet are never sundered -from each other. And _verde_--the eternal adjective _verde_--haunts -the distracted reader like an obsession: the _verdes árboles_, the -_verde suelo_, the _verde yerba_, the _verde prado_, the _verde carga_, -the _verde llano_, the _verde parra_, the _verde laurel_, the _verdes -ramos_,--and even _verdes ojos_.[79] A hillock is _espeso_: a wood -is _espeso_. One may choose between _verdadero y honesto amor_ and -_perfeto y verdadero amor_. Beauty is _extremada_: grace or wit is -_extremada_: a good voice is _extremada_. And _infinito_ sparkles on -almost every second page. It is all, of course, extremely correct and -in accord with a hundred thousand precedents. But, since the charm -palls after incessant repetition, it would not be surprising if some -should think that such undeviating fidelity to a model is not an -unmixed good, that tame academic virtues may be bought too dear, and -that a single chapter of that sadly incorrect book, _Don Quixote_, is -worth a whole wilderness of impeccable pastorals. - -Still we cannot feel so sure as we should wish to be that Cervantes -was of this mind. He longed to be an Arcadian, though he had no true -vocation for the business. And yet the sagacious criticism of Berganza -in the _Coloquio de los perros_[80] shows that he saw the absurdity -of shepherds and shepherdesses passing "their whole lives in singing -and playing on the pipes, bagpipes, rebecks, and hautboys, and other -outlandish instruments." The intelligent dog perceived that all such -tales as the _Diana_ "are dreams well written to amuse the idle, -and not truth at all, for, had they been so, there would have been -some trace among my shepherds of that most happy life and of those -pleasant meadows, spacious woods, sacred mountains, lovely gardens, -clear streams and crystal fountains, and of those lovers' wooings as -virtuous as they were eloquent, and of that swoon of the shepherd's -in this spot, of the shepherdess's in that, of the bagpipe of one -shepherd sounding here, and the flageolet of the other sounding -there." Cervantes knew well enough that shepherds in real life were -not called Lauso or Jacinto, but Domingo or Pablo; and that they spent -most of their leisure, not in chanting elegies, but in catching fleas -and mending their clogs. He tells us so. And that he realised the -faults of his own performance is evident from the verdict pronounced -on "the _Galatea_ of Miguel de Cervantes" by the Priest in _Don -Quixote_:--"That Cervantes has been for many years a great friend of -mine, and to my knowledge he has had more experience in reverses than -in verses. His book has some good invention in it, it presents us -with something but brings nothing to a conclusion: we must wait for -the Second Part it promises: perhaps with amendment it may succeed -in winning the full measure of indulgence that is now denied it; and -in the meantime do you, Señor Gossip, keep it shut up in your own -quarters."[81] - -This reference, as Mr. Ormsby noted, "is Cervantes all over in -its tone of playful stoicism with a certain quiet self-assertion." -Cervantes had, indeed, a special tenderness for the _Galatea_ as being -his eldest-born--_estas primicias de mi corto ingenio_--and this is -shown by his constant desire to finish it, his persistent renewal of -the promise with which the First Part closes. The history of these -promises is instructive. In 1585 Cervantes[82] publicly pledged himself -to bring out a continuation, if the First Part of the _Galatea_ -were a success: it was to follow shortly (_con brevedad_). The work -does not seem to have made a great hit; but Cervantes, the only man -entitled to an opinion on this particular matter, was satisfied with -its reception and, as the Priest's speech shows, in 1605 he held by -his intention of publishing the promised sequel. But he dallied and -tarried. _Con brevedad_ is, as posterity knows, an expression which -Cervantes interprets very liberally. Twenty-eight years after the -publication of the _Galatea_, he used the phrase once more in the -preface to the _Novelas exemplares_: the sequel to _Don Quixote_, -he promises, shall be forthcoming shortly (_con brevedad_). This -announcement caught Avellaneda's eye, and drove him into a grotesque -frenzy of disappointment. It seems evident that he took the words--_con -brevedad_--in their literal sense, imagining that Cervantes had nearly -finished the Second Part of _Don Quixote_ in 1613, and that its -appearance was a question of a few months more or less. Accordingly, -meanly determining to be first in the field, he hurried on with his -spurious sequel, penned his abusive preface, and rushed into print. -It is practically certain that this policy of sharp practice produced -precisely the result which he least desired. Perhaps he hoped that -Cervantes, discouraged at being thus forestalled, would abandon his own -Second Part in disgust. There was never a more complete miscalculation. -Stung to the quick by Avellaneda's insolence, Cervantes, in his turn, -made what haste he could with the genuine continuation. Had Avellaneda -but known how to wait, the chances are that Cervantes would have -devoted his best energies to the composition of _Las Semanas del -Jardín_ (promised in the dedication of the _Novelas exemplares_), or -of _El Engaño á los ojos_ (promised in the preface to his volume of -plays), or of _El famoso Bernardo_ (promised in the dedication of -_Persiles y Sigismunda_). Frittering away his diminishing strength on -these various works, and enlarging the design of _Don Quixote_ from -time to time--perhaps introducing the Knight, the Squire, the Bachelor -and the Priest as shepherds--Cervantes might only too easily have left -his masterpiece unfinished, were it not for the unintentional stimulus -given by Avellaneda's insults. - -How far is this view of the probabilities confirmed, or refuted, by -what occurred in the case of the _Galatea_? The Second Part of that -novel, like the Second Part of _Don Quixote_, had been promised _con -brevedad_. Ten years passed, and still the sequel to the pastoral did -not appear. Ticknor[83] records the tradition that Cervantes "wrote the -_Galatea_ to win the favour of his lady," Doña Catalina de Palacios -Salazar y Vozmediano, and cynically adds that the new Pygmalion's -"success may have been the reason why he was less interested to -finish it." The explanation suggested is not particularly creditable -to Cervantes, nor is it credible in itself. Cervantes's intention, -so often expressed, was excellent, and it is simple justice to -remember that, for the best part of the dozen years which immediately -followed the publication of the _Galatea_, he was earning his bread -as a tax-collector or tithe-proctor. This left him little time for -literature. Twenty years went by, and still the promised _Galatea_ was -not issued. One can well understand it. Cervantes had been discharged -from the public service: he was close on sixty and seemed to have -shot his bolt: his repute and fortune were at the lowest point. His -own belief in the _Galatea_ might be unbounded; but it was not very -likely that he would succeed in persuading my businesslike bookseller -to issue the Second Part of a pastoral novel which had (more or less) -failed nearly a quarter of a century earlier. He struck out a line -for himself and, in a happy hour for the world, he found a publisher -for _Don Quixote_. It was the daring venture of a broken man with -nothing to lose, and its immense success completely changed his -position. Henceforward he was an author of established reputation, and -publishers were ready enough to take his prose and pay for it. As the -reference in _Don Quixote_ shows, Cervantes had never, in his most -hopeless moment, given up his idea of publishing his sequel to the -_Galatea_. His original promise in 1585 was explicit, if conditional: -and manifestly in 1605 he held that the condition had been fulfilled. -In the latter year he was much less explicit as to his intention of -publishing a continuation of _Don Quixote_, and, in the concluding -quotation adapted from _Orlando Furioso_, he almost invited some other -writer to finish the book. Probably no contemporary reader would have -been surprised if the sequel to the _Galatea_ had appeared before the -sequel to _Don Quixote_.[84] Still it must be acknowledged that the -instant triumph of _Don Quixote_ altered the situation radically. In -these circumstances, which he could not possibly have foreseen when he -vaguely suggested that another hand might write the further adventures -of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, Cervantes was perfectly justified in -deciding to finish the later work before printing the earlier one. It -would have been the most natural thing in the world for an ordinary man -to make the most of his popularity and to bring out both sequels in -rapid succession. But Cervantes was not an ordinary man, and few points -in his history are more inexplicable than the fact that, after the -amazing success of _Don Quixote_, he published practically nothing for -the next eight years. - -At last in 1613, the _Novelas exemplares_ were issued. The author was -silent as to the continuation of the _Galatea_, but he promised that -the Second Part of _Don Quixote_ should be forthcoming--_con brevedad_. -We know what followed. The _Viaje del Parnaso_ was published in the -winter of 1614; and, though it contains a short Letter Dedicatory and -Preface,[85] which might easily have been made the vehicle of a public -announcement in Cervantes's customary manner, there is no allusion to -the new _Don Quixote_ or to the new _Galatea_. Next year, however, in -the dedication[86] of his _Ocho comedias y ocho entremeses nuevos_, -Cervantes informed the Conde de Lemos,--with whom the book was a -special favourite[87]--that he was pushing on with the _Galatea_. He -makes the same statement in the Prologue to the Second Part of _Don -Quixote_,[88] and the assurance is repeated by him on his deathbed in -the noble Letter Prefatory to _Persiles y Sigismunda_.[89] This latter -is a solemn occasion, and Cervantes writes in a tone of impressive -gravity which indicates that he weighed the full meaning of what he -knew would be his last message. _Ayer me dieron la Extremaunción, y hoy -escribo esta: el tiempo es breve, las ansias crecen, las esperanzas -menguan._ And, in the Prologue, written somewhat earlier, the old man -eloquent bids this merry life farewell, declares that his quips and -jests are over, and appoints a final rendezvous with his comrades in -the next world. At this supreme moment his indomitable spirit returns -to his first love, and once more he promises--for the fifth time--the -continuation of the _Galatea_. - -In view of the dying man's words it is exceptionally difficult to -believe that not a line of this sequel was actually written. It is -equally difficult to believe that, if the _Galatea_ existed in a -fragmentary state, the widow, the daughter, the son-in-law, the patron, -the publisher, the personal friends, the countless admirers of the -most illustrious and most popular novelist in all the Spains, should -have failed to print it. We cannot even venture to guess what the -facts of the case really were. From Cervantes's repeated declarations -it would seem probable that he left a considerable amount of literary -manuscript almost ready for the Licenser. With the exception of -_Persiles y Sigismunda_, every shred of every work that he mentions as -being in preparation has vanished. It would be strange if this befell -an author of secondary rank: it is incomprehensible when we consider -Cervantes's unique position, recognized in and out of Spain. All we -know is this: that, on Cervantes's lips, _con brevedad_ might mean--in -fact, did mean--more than thirty years, and that the sequel to the -_Galatea_, though promised on five separate occasions, never appeared. -Providence would seem to have decreed against the completion of many -Spanish pastorals. Montemôr's _Diana_, the sequels to it by Pérez and -Gil Polo, all remained unfinished: the _Galatea_ is unfinished, too. -It is possible, but unlikely, that the world has been defrauded of a -masterpiece. Yet, unsuited as was the pastoral _genre_ to the exercise -of Cervantes's individual genius, we should eagerly desire to study -his treatment of the old theme in the maturity of his genius and with -the consciousness that his splendid reputation was at stake. He might -perhaps have given us an anticipation in prose of Lope de Vega's play, -_La Arcadia_,[90] a brilliant, poetic parody after Cervantes's own -heart. Fate has ruled against us, and - - The unfinished window in Aladdin's tower - Unfinished must remain.[91] - -The pastorals lived on for many years in Spain[92] and out of it; -but _Don Quixote_, the _Novelas exemplares_, _Guzmán de Alfarache_, -and the growing crowd of picaresque realistic tales had so completely -supplanted them in popular favour that Cervantes himself could scarcely -have worked the miracle of restoring their former vogue among his -countrymen. - -Sr. D. Ramón León Máinez,[93] whose honourable enthusiasm for all that -relates to Cervantes forbids his admitting that there are spots on his -sun, considers the _Galatea_ to be the best of pastorals, and other -whole-hearted admirers (such as August and Friedrich von Schlegel)[94] -have said as much. This, however, is not the general verdict of those -who have read the _Galatea_ from beginning to end, and really such -readers are not many. Prescott[95] cautiously observes that it is "a -beautiful specimen of an insipid class." Hazlitt, who may be taken as -the honest representative of a numerous constituency, confesses that -he does not know the book, and offers an ingenious apology for his -remissness. Cervantes, he declares, claims the highest honour which can -belong to any author--"that of being the inventor of a new style of -writing." But, after this ingratiating prelude, he continues:--"I have -never read his _Galatea_, nor his _Loves of Persiles and Sigismunda_, -though I have often meant to do it, and I hope to do so yet. Perhaps -there is a reason lurking at the bottom of this dilatoriness. I am -quite sure that the reading of these works could not make me think -higher of the author of _Don Quixote_, and it might, for a moment or -two, make me think less." And no doubt it might: just as the reading -of _Hours of Idleness_, of _Zastrozzi_, and of _Clotilde de Lusignan -ou le beau Juif_ might, for a moment or two, make us think less of the -authors of _Don Juan_, of _Epipsychidion_, and of _Eugénie Grandet_. - -The _Galatea_ survives as the first timorous experiment of a daring -genius. It had no great vogue in Spain, and it is a mistake to say -that "seven editions were called for in the author's lifetime."[96] -At least, bibliographers know that, if they were called for, they -certainly did not appear. As a matter of fact the book was only twice -reprinted while Cervantes was alive, and, as neither of these editions -was published in Spain, it is possible that he was unaware of their -existence. In 1590 the _Galatea_ was reproduced at Lisbon, expurgated -of all heathenish allusions by Frey Bertholameu Ferreyra, acting for -the Portuguese Inquisition; and this incomplete Portuguese reprint -helped to make the pastoral known outside the Peninsula. It so happened -that César Oudin, a teacher of Spanish at Paris--where he had already -(1608) reprinted the _Curioso impertinente_,[97]--travelled through -Spain and Portugal during 1610, and in the course of his journey he -unsuccessfully endeavoured to obtain a copy of the Alcalá _Galatea_. -He had to be content with a copy of the mutilated Lisbon edition, and -this he reprinted in 1611 at Paris,[98] probably with an eye to using -it as a text-book for his French pupils who were passing through an -acute crisis of the pastoral fever. M. Jourdain had not yet put his -embarrassing question to his music and dancing masters:--"Pourquoi -toujours des bergers?" At all events, there is some evidence to prove -that the _Galatea_ was popular in fashionable Parisian circles while -Cervantes still lived. In his _Aprobación_ to the Second Part of _Don -Quixote_, the Licenciado Francisco Márquez Torres records that when, -on February 25, 1615, he visited the French embassy, he was beset -by members of the Envoy's suite[99] who, taking fire at the mention -of Cervantes's name, belauded the First Part of _Don Quixote_, the -_Novelas exemplares_, and the _Galatea_--which one of them knew almost -by heart.[100] It is unlikely that the author himself knew much of -the _Galatea_ by heart; but at about this period Honoré d'Urfé[101] -had restored the vogue of pastoralism in France, and Márquez Torres's -ecstatic Frenchman (if he really existed) only shewed the tendency to -exaggeration characteristic of recent converts. He was, very possibly, -among the last of the elect in Madrid. One edition--some say two -editions--of the _Galatea_ appeared posthumously in 1617: two more -editions (provincial, like their immediate predecessor or predecessors) -were issued in 1618. Then the dust of a hundred years settled down on -all copies of the forgotten book. Three reprints during the eighteenth -century, ten reprints during the nineteenth century, satisfied the -public demand.[102] - -The sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries did not produce a -single translation of the _Galatea_.[103] But in 1783 appeared a French -adaptation of this pastoral by the once famous Chevalier Jean-Pierre -Claris de Florian,[104] who compressed the six books of the original -into three, added a fourth book of his own in which he married Elicio -to Galatea, and so contrived a happy ending. "Il _florianise_ tant soit -peu toutes choses," says Sainte-Beuve[105] drily. In this delicate, -perfumed, powder-and-patch arrangement by the idyllic woman-beater[106] -and Captain of Dragoons, Cervantes's novel became astonishingly -popular. Edition after edition was struck off from the French presses, -and the work was read all over Europe in translations: three in German, -two in Italian, three in English, two in Portuguese, one in Greek. -Odder still, in this form, the book made its way home again and, just -as certain Spaniards who had forgotten Guillén de Castro enjoyed Juan -Bautista Diamante's translation (1658) of Corneille's _Cid_, so three -editions go to prove that, a century and a half later, certain other -Spaniards who had forgotten Cervantes enjoyed Casiano Pellicer's -translation (1797) of Florian's _Galatée_.[107] And there was more -to follow next year. Cándido María Trigueros[108] showed himself -worthy of his Christian name by bettering Florian's example: he laid -violent hands on Cervantes, suppressed here, amplified there, purged -the book of its verses, and supplied a still happier ending--on a -monumental scale--by incontinently marrying ten lucky shepherds to ten -lovely shepherdesses. One cannot help wondering what Cervantes would -have thought of this astounding performance. It was too much for the -Spanish public, and Trigueros turned to do better work in adapting -old plays to the modern stage. The taste for Arcadianism died away at -the beginning of the nineteenth century. Artificial pastorals have, -indeed, not yet recovered from a polite but deadly note published in -the preface to _Obermann_: "Le genre pastoral, le genre descriptif out -beaucoup d'expressions rebattues, dont les moins tolérables, à mon -avis, sont les figures employées quelques millions de fois et qui, dès -la première, affaiblissent l'objet qu'elles prétendaient agrandir." -Such expressions, continues the writer, are _l'émail des prés_, -_l'azur des cieux_, _le cristal des eaux_, _les lis et les roses de -son teint_, _les gages de son amour_, _l'innocence du hameau_, _des_ -_torrens s'échapperènt de ses yeux_--"et tant d'autres que je ne veux -pas condamner exclusivement, mais que j'aime mieux ne pas rencontrer." -Sénancour was perhaps thinking more particularly of Florian at the -moment, but his criticism applies also to Cervantes's first book. - -It was not till 1830 that the first genuine translation of the -_Galatea_ appeared, and this German version was followed by two others -in the same language. These stood alone till 1867[109] when it occurred -to a droll, strange man named Gordon Willoughby James Gyll (or James -Willoughby Gordon Gill),[110] to publish an English rendering of -Cervantes's pastoral in which, as he thought, "the rural characters -are nicely defined; modesty and grace with simplicity prevailing." -Gyll, who wrongly imagined that he was the first to translate the -_Galatea_, seems to have been specially attracted by Cervantes's -verses,--a compliment which the author would have enjoyed all the more -on learning from his admirer that these "compositions are cast in -lyrics and iambics, without being quite of a dithyrambic character, -furnishing relief to the prose, and evincing the skill and tendency -of the bard in all effusions relative to love, the master-passion of -our existence, without which all would be arid and disappointing to -the eagle spirit of the child of song." After this opening you know -what to expect. And you get it--three hundred and forty-nine pages of -it! Gyll never writes of parts, but of "portions"; rather than leave -a place, he will "evacuate" it; nothing will induce him to return if -he can "revert"; he prefers "scintillations" to gleams, "perturbators" -to disturbers, "cogitation" to thought, and "exculpations" to excuses. -Gyll's English, as may be judged from the specimens just quoted, is -almost as eccentric as the English of Mohindronauth Mookerjee in his -_Memoir of the late Honourable Justice Onoocool Chunder Mookerjee_, and -it is much less amusing. His effrontery is beyond description. He knew -nothing of Cervantes whom he actually believed to be a contemporary -of Floridablanca in the eighteenth century.[111] He almost implies -that he has read Cervantes's lost _Filena_, though he admits that it -"is now rarely found." His ignorance of Spanish is illimitable. How -he can have presumed to translate from it passes all understanding. -He misinterprets the easiest phrases, and he follows the simple plan -of translating each word by the first rough equivalent that he finds -given in some poor dictionary. It would be waste of time to criticize -the inflated prose and detestable verse which combine to make Gyll's -rendering the worst in the world. Two specimens will suffice to show -what Gyll can do when he gives his mind to it. At the very opening -of the First Book, he reveals his powers:--"But the perspicacity -of Galatea detected in the motions of his countenance what Elicio -contained in his soul, and she evinced such condescension that the -words of the enamoured shepherd congealed in his mouth, though it -appeared to him that he had done an injury to her, even to treat of -what might not have the semblance of rectitude." This is Gyll as a -master of prose. Gyll, the lyric poet, is even richer in artistic -surprises. Take, for instance, the closing stanzas of Lauso's song at -the beginning of the Fifth Book:-- - - In this extraordinary agony, - The feelings entertained go but for dumb - Seeing that love defies, - And I am cast in the midst of the fierce fire. - Cold water I abhor - Were it not for my eyes, - Which fire augments and spoils - In this amorous forge. - I wish not or seek water, - Or from annoyance supplicate relief. - - Begin would all my good, - My ills would finish all, - If fate should so ordain, - That my sincere trust in life, - Silenca[112] would assure, - Sighs assure it. - My eyes do thoroughly me inform - Me weeping in this truth. - Pen, tongue, will - In this inflexible reason me confirm. - -These examples speak for themselves.[113] Cervantes was not -indeed a very great poet; but his verses are often graceful and -melodious, and it would have afflicted him sorely to see his lines -travestied in this miserable fashion. It is inexplicable that such -absolute nonsense should be published. But it is a singular testimony -to the public interest in all concerning Cervantes that, in default of -anything better, this discreditable version should have been read, and -even reprinted. - -For the present edition a new translation has been prepared. It -proceeds on the one sound principle of translating from the original as -faithfully as possible, without either omission or addition. The task -of rendering the _Galatea_ into English is less trying, and therefore -less tempting, than the task of rendering _Don Quixote_ or the _Novelas -exemplares_; but the _Galatea_ offers numerous difficulties, and it -will be found that these have been very satisfactorily overcome by -Dr. Oelsner and Mr. A. Baker Welford. They have the distinction of -producing the first really adequate translation of the _Galatea_ in any -language. - - JAS. FITZMAURICE-KELLY. - -February, 1903. - - - FOOTNOTES: - -[1] The article on Cervantes in Nicolás Antonio's _Bibliotheca -Hispana_ (Roma, 1672), vol. ii., p. 105, is bibliographical rather -than biographical. In Antonio's time practically nothing was -known concerning the details of Cervantes's life. It is curious -that the first writer to attempt a biography of Cervantes was a -foreigner--possibly Peter Motteux, whose English translation dates from -1700: a biographical sketch, entitled _An Account of the Author_, was -included in the third volume (London, 1703). The following sentences, -which I quote from the first volume of the third edition (London, -1712), are not without interest:-- - -"For the other Passages of his Life, we are only given to understand -that he was for some time Secretary to the Duke of Alva" (p. ii). "Some -are of the Opinion, that upon our Author's being neglectfully treated -by the Duke of Lerma, first Minister to K. Philip the Third, a strange -imperious, haughty Man, and one who had no Value for Men of Learning; -he in Revenge, made this Satyr which, as they pretend, is chiefly -aim'd at that Minister" (pp. iii.-iv.). The biographer then refers to -Avellaneda's spurious sequel, and continues:--"Our Author was extremely -concern'd at this Proceeding, and the more too, because this Writer was -not content to invade his Design, and rob him, as 'tis said, of some of -his Copy, but miserably abuses poor Cervantes in his Preface" (p. iv.). - -These idle rumours as to Cervantes's relations with Lerma are taken -from René Rapin's _Réflexions sur la poétique d'Aristote, et sur les -ouvrages des Poetes anciens & modernes_ (Paris, 1674, p. 229) and from -Louis Moréri's _Grand Dictionaire historique ou le mélange curieux de -l'histoire sacrée et profane_ (Paris, 1687, third edition, vol. i., p. -795); but it is odd to find them reaching England before they reached -Spain. Mayáns and Pedro Murillo Velarde do not reproduce them till 1737 -and 1752 respectively: the first in his _Vida de Miguel de Cervantes -Saavedra_ (Briga-Real), and the second in his _Geographica historica_ -(Madrid), vol x., lib. x., p. 28. - -[2] See the _Vida de Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra_ in Tonson's reprint -of _Don Quixote_ (Londres, 1738), vol. i., p. 6. This edition is -generally described as Lord Carteret's edition; but, though Carteret -certainly commissioned Mayáns to write the biography of Cervantes, -and though he may have patronized Tonson's venture, it does not seem -so sure that he paid for printing the text (which, as regards the -First Part, is merely a mechanical reproduction of the 1607 Brussels -edition). The usual version of the story is that Carteret, on looking -over the library of Queen Caroline, wife of George II., missed _Don -Quixote_ from the shelves, and ordered the sumptuous Tonson edition -with a view to making the Queen a present of the most delightful book -in the world. It may be so. Carteret appears to have been interested -in Spanish literature, and we know that Harry Bridges's translation -(Bristol, 1728) of some of the _Novelas exemplares_ was brought -out "under the Protection of His Excellency." But, with regard to -Carteret's defraying the entire cost of Tonson's reprint of _Don -Quixote_, there are some circumstances which cause one to hesitate -before accepting the report as true. So far as can be gathered, the -first mention of Carteret in this connexion is found in Juan Antonio -Mayáns's preface to the sixth edition (Valencia, 1792) of Luis Gálvez -de Montalvo's _Pastor de Fílida_:-- - -"Carolina, Reina de Inglaterra, muger de Jorge segundo, avia juntado, -para su entretenimiento, una coleccion de libros de Inventiva, i la -llamava _La Bibliotheca del sabio Merlin_, i aviendosela enseñado a -Juan Baron Carteret, le dijo este sabio apreciador de los Escritores -Españoles, que faltava en ella la Ficcion más agradable, que se avia -escrito en el Mundo, que era la Vida de D. Quijote de la Mancha, i que -él queria tener el mérito de colocarla" (p. xxv.). - -This statement, it will be seen, was made more than fifty years after -the event to which it refers. Nevertheless it may be true. Juan Antonio -Mayáns may have had the story from Gregorio Mayáns. He was most -unlikely to invent it, and the fact that he gives 1737 as the date of -Gregorio's biography inclines one to believe in his general accuracy: -all other writers give 1738 as the date, but it has recently been found -that a _tirage à part_ was struck off at Briga-Real (i.e. Madrid) a -year before the _Vida_ was printed in London. It must, however, be -remembered that Gregorio Mayáns never met Carteret, and was never in -England. Knowing that Carteret paid him for his share in the work, he -might easily have imagined that Carteret also paid Tonson, and may have -been understood to state this inference as a positive fact. In any -case, the memory of an elderly man is not always trustworthy in such -matters as these. Moreover, as Gregorio Mayáns died in 1781, we must -allow for the possibility of error on the part of Juan Antonio, when -repeating a tale that he had heard at least eleven years before. - -Some external evidence, such as it is, tells against the common -belief, Leopoldo Rius in his _Bibliografía crítica de las obras de -Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra_ (Madrid, 1895-1899) notes (vol. ii. p. -300) a German work entitled _Angenehmes Passetems_ (Frankfurt and -Leipzig, 1734): in the preface to this publication it is stated as -a piece of news that the Spanish Ambassador in London, the Conde de -Montijo, has ordered a copy of _Don Quixote_ to be handsomely bound -for Queen Caroline. We do not know if Montijo gave her the book, but -it seems certain that _Don Quixote_ was in her library. A copy of the -Antwerp edition of 1719, bearing her name and the royal crown, passed -into the possession of my friend, the late Mr. Henry Spencer Ashbee: -see his pamphlet, _Some Books about Cervantes_ (London, 1900), pp. -29-30. Possibly the interview with Carteret took place before 1734, or -before Queen Caroline possessed the Antwerp edition. But it is worth -noting that the Queen died on November 20, 1737, and that Tonson's -edition appeared next spring. If Carteret were so deeply engaged in -the undertaking as we are assured, and if his chief motive were (as -reported) to pay a courtly compliment to Queen Caroline, it is strange -that he should not have caused the edition to be dedicated to the -Queen's memory, and it is still stranger that the preliminaries should -not contain the least allusion to her. As it happens, the Dedication, -dated March 26, 1738, is addressed to the Condesa de Montijo, wife of -the ex-Ambassador above-named. It would be a small but useful service -if one of Cervantes's many English admirers should establish what share -Carteret actually had in an enterprise for which, hitherto, he has -received the whole credit. - -[3] See _El Ingenioso Hidalgo Don Quixote de la Mancha...._ Nueva -edición corregida por la Real Academia Española (Madrid, 1780), vol. -i., p. xii. - -[4] See Juan Antonio Pellicer's edition of _Don Quixote_ (Madrid, -1797-1798), vol. i. pp. lxxv.-lxxvi.: "Restituido pues Cervantes á -España en la primavera del año de 1581 fixó su residencia en Madrid.... -Hizo también lugar para escribir y publicar el año de 1584 _La -Galatea_." - -It appears that all the assertions here made by Pellicer are mistaken. -(1) Cervantes did not return to Spain in the spring of 1581, but late -in 1580; (2) he did not reside permanently in Madrid during 1581, -for we find him at Tomar on May 21 of that year; (3) if we are to -understand that the _Galatea_ was composed in 1684, this is disproved -by the fact that the manuscript was passed by the censor on February -1, 1584, and must naturally have been in his possession for some time -previously; (4) it will be shewn that the _Galatea_ was not published -in 1584, but in 1585. Pellicer is not to be blamed for not knowing the -real facts. The pity is that he should give his guesses as though they -were certainties. Yet, in a sense, events have justified his boldness; -for no man's guesses have been more widely accepted. - -[5] See Martín Fernández de Navarrete's _Vida de Miguel de Cervantes -Saavedra_ (Madrid, 1819), pp. 65-68. Navarrete, however, points -out that the _Galatea_ cannot have appeared early in 1584, as his -predecessors had alleged: "No se publicó hasta los últimos meses de -aquel año." I do not understand him to say that the book was published -at Madrid. - -[6] See George Ticknor's _History of Spanish Literature_ (Sixth -American Edition, Boston, 1888), vol. ii., p. 117. - -[7] Amongst others, John Gibson Lockhart in his _Introduction_ to -a reprint of Peter Motteux's version of _Don Quixote_ (Edinburgh, -1822), vol. i., p. 25; Thomas Roscoe, _The Life and Writings of Miguel -de Cervantes Saavedra_ (London, 1839), p. 38; Mrs. Oliphant in her -_Cervantes_ (Edinburgh and London, 1880), p. 76; and Alexander James -Duffield in his _Don Quixote: his critics and commentators_ (London, -1881), p. 79. In his _Later Renaissance_ (London, 1898), p. 149, Mr. -David Hannay gives the date as 1580. On the other hand, John Ormsby -stated the facts with his habitual accuracy in the Introduction to the -first edition of his translation of _Don Quixote_ (London, 1885), vol. -i., p. 29. - -[8] See C.-B. Dumaine's _Essai sur la vie et les œuvres de Cervantes -d'après un travail inédit de D. Luis Carreras_ (Paris, 1897), p. 47: -"Les vers de la Galatée remontent au temps de son séjour en Italie. -Ces poésies étaient addressées à une dame, à laquelle il témoignait de -tendres sentiments." - -[9] See Sr. D. José María Asensio y Toledo's _Nuevos documentos -para ilustrar la vida de Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, con algunas -observaciones y articulos sobre la vida y obras del mismo autor y las -pruebas de la autenticidad de su verdadero retrato_ (Seville, 1864), -pp. 51-52. Sr. Asensio y Toledo, who repeats his view as to the date -of composition in his _Cervantes y sus obras_ (Barcelona, 1901), p. -195, relies mainly on an expression in the preface: "Huyendo destos -dos inconvenientes no he publicado antes de ahora este libro." Taken -by itself, this phrase certainly implies that the book had been -completed some time before; but the passage is too rhetorically, and -too vaguely, worded to admit of safe deductions being drawn from it. -The idea that the _Galatea_ was written in Portugal was thrown out long -ago by Eustaquio Fernández de Navarrete: see his _Bosquejo histórico -sobre la novela española_ in Manuel Rivadeneyra, _Biblioteca de autores -españoles_, (Madrid, 1854), vol. xxxiii., p. xxiv. - -[10] Lucas Gracián Dantisco wrote an imitation of Della Casa's book -under the title of _Galateo español_ (Barcelona, 1594). His brother, -Tomás, is mentioned by Cervantes in the _Canto de Calíope_. - -[11] The earliest known edition of the _Celestina_ is believed to be -represented by an unique copy which was once in Heber's collection. -The colophon of this volume is dated Burgos 1499; but there is some -doubt concerning the date inasmuch as the last page has been recently -inserted and may not be a faithful reproduction of the original -printer's mark. It is, however, tolerably certain that this edition -came from the press of Fadrique de Basilea (Friedrich Biel): for whom, -see Conrad Haebler's _Typographie Ibérique du quinzième siècle_ (La -Haye and Leipzig, 1901), pp. 30-32. It is also fairly certain that -this Heber copy, whatever its exact date may be, is earlier than the -Seville edition of 1501, reprinted (1900) by M. Raymond Foulché-Delbosc -in his _Bibliotheca Hispanica_. Finally, the probability is that the -edition which survives in the Heber volume was preceded by another -edition of which no trace remains: see M. Foulché-Delbosc's remarkable -_Observations sur la Célestine_ in the _Revue hispanique_ (Paris, -1900), vol. vii., pp. 28-80. - -[12] The earliest known edition of _Amadís de Gaula_ (Zaragoza, -1508) is believed to exist in an unique copy in the British Museum, -press-marked as C. 57. g. 6. But there is reason to think that there -was a previous edition which has disappeared. - -[13] There are three distinct editions of _Lazarillo de Tormes_ all -dated 1554. They were published respectively at Alcalá de Henares, -Burgos, and Antwerp, and--so M. Foulché-Delbosc inclines to believe--in -the order here given: see his _Remarques sur Lazarille de Tormes_ -in the _Revue hispanique_ (Paris, 1900). vol. vii., pp. 81-97. M. -Foulché-Delbosc argues with great ingenuity that these three editions -of 1554 derive from another edition (printed before February 26, 1554) -of which no copy has as yet been found. - -[14] Sr. D. Francisco Rodríguez Marín mentions that a copy of the -_princeps_ of the _Primera Parte de Guzmán de Alfarache_ (Madrid, 1599) -existed in the library of the Marqués de Jerez de Caballeros, recently -acquired by Mr. Archer M. Huntington: see Rodríguez Marín's _El Loaysa -de "El Celoso Extremeño"_ (Sevilla, 1901), p. 283, _n._ 102. Another -copy of this rare edition is in the British Museum Library. - -[15] Rius (_op. cit._, vol. i., p. 4) mentions eight copies of the -_princeps_ of _Don Quixote_ (Madrid, 1605), and it is certain that -there are other copies in existence. - -[16] In _Miguel de Cervantes, his life & works_ (London, 1895), p. 267, -Mr. Henry Edward Watts, says of the Alcalá _Galatea_ (1585) that "only -one copy is known--in the possession of the Marqués de Salamanca." -This is a mistake. Rius, who does not refer to the volume alleged to -be in the Marqués de Salamanca's possession, specifies (_op. cit._, -vol. i., pp. 100-101) five other copies. He could not be expected to -know that there was yet another copy in England. English students of -Cervantes were, however, aware of the fact fifteen years before the -publication of Mr. Watts's work: see _A Catalogue of the printed books, -manuscripts, autograph letters, and engravings, collected by Henry -Huth. With collations and bibliographical descriptions_ (London, 1880), -vol. i., p. 282. - -[17] See the Introduction to vol. vii. of the present edition (Glasgow, -1902), p. viii. - -[18] It may be interesting to note the exact dates attached to the -official instruments in Haedo's book. The _Licencia_ of the General of -the Benedictines was signed by his deputy, Fray Gregorio de Lazcano, at -Valladolid on October 6, 1604; the _Aprobación_ was signed by Antonio -de Herrera at Madrid on October 18, 1608; the _Privilegio_ was signed -by Jorge de Tovar at Madrid on February 18, 1610; the _Fe de erratas_ -was signed by Dr. Agustín de Vergara at Valladolid on June 3, 1612; the -_Tasa_ was signed by Miguel Ondarza Zabala at Madrid on October 19, -1612. As we have already seen, the last-named signed the _Tasa_ of the -_Galatea_ some twenty-six years previously. - -[19] See Fernández de Navarrete, _op. cit._, pp. 392-393: "Petri ad -vincula 1º día de agosto de 1584 murió el Ilmo. Sr. Marco Antonio -Colona, virey de Sicilia, en casa del Ilmo. Sr. duque de Medinaceli, -que fué miércoles en la noche, á las once horas de la noche: rescibió -todos los sacramentos: no hizo testamento: enterróse en depósito, que -se hizo ante Hernando de Durango, secretario del consejo del Ilmo. Sr. -duque, en la capilla mayor de esta colegial á la parte del evangelio, -debajo de la reja de las reliquias; hiciéronse tres oficios con el -cabildo de esta colegial, y en todos tres oficios celebraron por el -ánima de S. E. todos los prebendados, y seis días consecutivos, que fué -cada prebendado nueve misas: no se hizo otra cosa,--El canónigo Guzmán." - -[20] See the _Catálogo de la biblioteca de Salvá_, escrito por D. Pedro -Salvá y Mallen, y enriquecido con la descripcion de otras muchas obras, -de sus ediciones, etc. (Valencia, 1872), vol. ii., p. 124, no. 1740. - -[21] See the _Obras de Don Juan Donoso Cortés_, ordenadas y precedidas -de una noticia biográfica por Don Gavino Tejado (Madrid, 1854), vol. -iv., pp. 59-60: "Entre la verdad y la razón humana, después de la -prevaricación del hombre, ha puesto Dios una repugnancia inmortal y una -repulsión invencible ... entre la razón humana y lo absurdo hay una -afinidad secreta, un parentesco estrechísimo." - -[22] Of these perplexing statements it will suffice to note a few which -occur in _Miguel de Cervantes, his life & works by Henry Edward Watts_ -(London, 1895): - - (_a_) "A new epoch in the life of Cervantes opens in 1584. In that - year he printed his first book...." (p. 76). - - (_b_) "A few days before the publication of _Galatea_, Cervantes was - married at Esquivias.... The 12th of December, 1584, was the date of - the ceremony." (p. 90). - - (_c_) "Cervantes married his wife in December, 1584, and for reasons - which will be manifest to those who have read the story of his life - I think we may presume that his first book was printed before that - date." (p. 257). - - (_d_) "The _Galatea_, Cervantes' first book ... was approved for - publication on the 1st of February, 1584, but, for some reason not - explained, it was not published till the beginning of the year - following." (p. 87). - - (_e_) "Salvá maintains it (_i.e._ the Alcalá edition of 1585) to be - the _editio princeps_, but I agree with Asensio and the older critics - in believing that there must have been an edition of 1584." (p. 257). - - (_f_) "Navarrete and Ticknor, following all the older authorities, - make the place of publication Madrid and the date 1584. But Salvá has - proved in his Bibliography that the _Galatea_ was first published at - Alcalá, the author's birthplace, at the beginning of 1585." (p. 87 - _n._ 3). - - These sentences do not appear to convey a strictly consistent view: - (_b_) contradicts (_c_), (_c_) contradicts (_d_), (_d_) contradicts - (_e_), and (_e_) contradicts (_f_). - -As to (_b_) and (_d_), the expressions "a few days" and "the beginning -of the new year" should evidently be interpreted in a non-natural -sense. The _Tasa_, as we have seen, was not signed at Madrid till -March 13, 1585; the next step was to return the printed sheets to the -publisher at Alcalá de Henares; the publisher had then to forward the -_Tasa_ to the printer, and finally the whole edition had to be bound. -In these circumstances, the date of publication cannot easily be placed -earlier than April, 1585. Accordingly, the expression (_b_)--"a few -days"--must be taken to mean about ninety or a hundred days: and "the -beginning of the year," mentioned under (_d_), must be advanced from -January to April. - -Concerning (_e_), it is true that Sr. Asensio y Toledo was at one -time inclined to believe in the existence of a 1584 edition of the -_Galatea_: see Salvá, _op. cit._, vol ii, p. 124. But Sr. Asensio -y Toledo admitted that Salvá's argument had shaken him: "sus -observaciones de V. me han hecho parar un poco." This was over thirty -years ago. Meanwhile, Sr. Asensio y Toledo has revised his opinion, -as may be seen in his latest publication, _Cervantes y sus obras_ -(Barcelona. 1902). "En el año 1585 salió á luz _La Galatea_" (p. -268).... "El libro se imprimió en Alcalá, por Juan Gracián, y es de -la más extremada rareza" (pp. 382-383). He now accepts Salvá's view -without reserve. - -As to (_f_), I have searched Navarrete's five hundred and eighty pages -and Ticknor's one thousand six hundred and ninety-seven pages, but have -been unable to find that either of them gives Madrid as the place of -publication. An exact reference to authorities is always advisable. - -[23] See the _Life of Miguel de Cervantes by Henry Edward Watts_ -(London, 1891), p. 117. - -[24] See _Miguel de Cervantes, his life & works by Henry Edward Watts_ -(London, 1895), p. 257. - -[25] See _Documentos Cervantinos hasta ahora inéditos recogidos -y anotados por el Presbítero D. Cristóbal Pérez Pastor Doctor en -Ciencias_. Publicados á expensas del Excmo. Señor D. Manuel Pérez de -Guzmán y Boza, Marqués de Jerez de los Caballeros (Madrid, 1902), vol. -ii., pp. 87-89: "Madrid, 14 Junio 1584. En la villa de Madrid a catorce -días del mes de Junio de mil e quinientos e ochenta e quatro años por -ante mi el escribano público e testigos deyuso escriptos, paresció -presente Miguel de Çerbantes, residente en esta corte, e otorgó que -zede, vende, renuncia e traspassa en Blas de Robles, mercader de -libros, residente en esta corte, un libro de prosa y verso en que se -contienen los seis libros de Galatea, que él ha compuesto en nuestra -lengua castellana, y le entrega el previllegio original que de Su -Magestad tiene firmado de su real mano y refrendado de Antonio de -Heraso, su secretario, fecho en esta villa en veinte e dos días del mes -de Hebrero deste presente año de ochenta e quatro para que en virtud -de él el dicho Blas de Robles, por el tiempo en él contenido, haga -imprimir e vender e venda el dicho libro y hacer sobre ello lo (_sic_) -y lo a ello anejo, dezesorio y dependiente, todo lo que el dicho Miguel -de Çerbantes haria a hazer podria siendo presente, y para que cumplidos -los dichos dies años del dicho previllegio pueda pedir e pida una o más -prorrogaciones y usar y use de ellas y del privillegio que de nuevo se -le concediere, esto por prescio de mill e trescientos e treynta e seys -reales que por ello le da e paga de contado de que se dió y otorgó por -bien contento y entregado a toda su voluntad, y en razón de la paga y -entrega dellos, que de presente no paresce, renunció la excepcion de -la _non numerata pecunia_ y las dos leyes y excepcion del derecho que -hablan e son en razón de la prueba del entregamiento como en ellas y en -cada una de ellas se contiene, que no le valan, e se obligó que le será -cierto e sano el dicho previllegio e las demas prorrogaciones que se le -dieren e concedieren en virtud de él e de este poder e cesion e no le -será pedido ni alegado engaño, aunque sea enormísimo, en más o en menos -de la mitad del justo precio, porque desde agora, caso que pudiera -haber el dicho engaño, que no le hay, se lo suelta, remite y perdona, y -si alguna cosa intentare a pedir no sea oido en juicio ni fuera de él, -y se obligó que el dicho previllegio será cierto e sano e seguro y no -se le porná en ello agora ni en tiempo alguno por ninguna manera pleito -ni litigio alguno, e si le fuere puesto incoará por ello causa y la -seguirá, fenescerá y acabará a su propia costa o mision e cumplimiento -de su interese, por manera que pacificamente el dicho Blas de Robles -quede con el dicho previllegio e prorrogaciones libremente so pena de -le pagar todas las costas e daños que sobre ello se le recrescieren, -e para el cumplimiento de ello obligó su persona e bienes, habidos -e por haber, e dió poder cumplido a todas e qualesquier justicias e -juezes de Su Magestad Real de qualesquier partes que sean al fuero e -jurisdicion de las quales y de cada una de ellas se sometió, e renunció -su propio fuero, jurisdicion e domicilio y la ley _Si convenerit de -jurisdictione omnium judicum_ para que por todo rigor de derecho e via -executiva le compelan e apremien a lo ansi cumplir e pagar con costas -como si sentencia definitiva fuese dada contra él e por él consentida -e pasada en cosa juzgada, e renunció las leyes de su favor e la ley e -derecho en que dice que general renunciacion fecha de leyes non vala, e -ansi lo otorgó e firmó de su nombre siendo testigos Francisco Martínez -e Juan Aguado e Andrea de Obregón, vecinos de le dicha villa, al qual -dicho otorgante doy fee conozco.--Miguel de Cerbantes.--Pasó ante mi -Francisco Martínez, escribano.--Derechos xxxiiij^o." - -[26] Sr. Asensio y Toledo (_op. cit._, p. 194) inclines to think that -Cervantes, when engaged on the first rough draft of his novel, intended -to call it _Silena_. - -[27] _Documentos_, vol. ii., pp. 90-92. "Madrid, 14 Junio 1584. Sepan -quantos esta carta de obligacion vieren como yo Blas de Robles, -mercader de libros, vecino de esta villa de Madrid, digo: que por -quanto hoy día de la fecha de esta carta y por ante el escribano yuso -escripto, Miguel de Çervantes, residente en esta corte de Su Magestad, -me ha vendido un libro intitulado los seys libros de Galatea, que el -dicho Çervantes ha compuesto en nuestra lengua castellana, por prescio -de mill e trescientos e treynta e seys reales y en la escriptura que -de ello me otorgó se dió por contento y pagado de todos los dichos -maravedís e confesó haberlos rescebido de mi realmente y con efecto, -y porque en realidad de verdad, no obstante lo contenido en la dicha -escriptura, yo le resto debiendo ducientos e cinquenta reales y por la -dicha razón me obligo de se los dar e pagar a él o a quien su poder -hubiere para en fin del mes de Setiembre primero que verná deste -presente año de ochenta e quatro, llanamente en reales de contado, sin -pleito ni litigio alguno, so pena del doblo e costas, para lo qual -obligo mi persona e bienes habidos e por haber e por esta carta doy -poder cumplido a todas e qualesquier justicias e juezes de Su Magestad -real de qualesquier partes que sean, al fuero e jurisdicion de las -quales e de cada una de ellas me someto, e renuncio mi propio fuero, -jurisdicion e domicilio y la ley _Si convenerit de jurisdictione omnium -judicum_ para que por todo rigor de derecho e via executiva me compelan -e apremien a lo ansi cumplir e pagar con costas como si sentencia -difinitiva fuese dada contra mi e por mi consentida e pasada en cosa -juzgada, e renuncio todas e qualesquier leyes que en mi favor sean y -la ley e derecho en que dice que general renunciacion fecha de leyes -non vala, en firmeza de lo qual otorgué esta carta de obligacion en -la manera que dicha es ante el presente escribano e testigos deyuso -escriptos. Que fué fecha e otorgada en la villa de Madrid a catorze -días del mes de Junio de mill e quinientos e ochenta e quatro años, -siendo testigos Andrés de Obregón e Juan Aguado e Baltasar Pérez, -vecinos de esta villa, y el otorgante, que doy fee conozco, lo firmó -de su nombre en el registro.--Blas de Robles.--Pasó ante mi Francisco -Martínez, escribano.--Sin derechos." - -[28] It may be as well to say that my conjecture (p. xiii) was made, -and that the draft of this Introduction was written, before the -publication of Dr. Pérez Pastor's second volume. - -[29] See Navarrete, _op. cit._, pp. 312-313: "Señor.--Miguel de -Cervantes Saavedra dice, que ha servido á V. M. muchos años en las -jornadas de mar y tierra que se han ofrecido de veinte y dos años -á esta parte, particularmente en la batalla naval, donde le dieron -muchas heridas, de las cuales perdió una mano de un arcabuzazo, y el -año siguiente fué á Navarino, y después á la de Túnez y á la Goleta, y -viniendo á esta corte con cartas del Sr. D. Joan y del duque de Sesa -para que V. M. le hiciese merced, fué captivo en la galera del Sol, -él y un hermano suyo, que también ha servido á V. M. en las mismas -jornadas, y fueron llevados á Argel, donde gastaron el patrimonio que -tenian en rescatarse, y toda la hacienda de sus padres y los dotes -de dos hermanas doncellas que tenía, las cuales quedaron pobres por -rescatar á sus hermanos, y después de libertados fueron á servir á V. -M. en el reino de Portugal y á las Terceras con el marques de Santa -Cruz, y agora al presente están sirviendo y sirven á V. M., el uno -dellos en Flandes de alferez, y el Miguel de Cervantes fué el que -trajo las cartas y avisos del alcaide de Mostagan, y fué á Oran por -orden de V. M., y después ha asistido sirviendo en Sevilla en negocios -de la armada por orden de Antonio de Guevara, como consta por las -informaciones que tiene, y en todo este tiempo no se le ha hecho merced -ninguna." - -[30] See Cristóbal Mosquera de Figueroa's _Comentario en breve -compendio de disciplina militar, en que se escriue la jornada de las -islas de los Açores_ (Madrid, 1596), f. 58. - -Dr. Pérez Pastor sums up the case concisely in the _Prólogo_ to his -_Documentos Cervantinos_ (Madrid, 1897), vol. i., pp. xi.-xii.; "Casi -todos los biógrafos de Cervantes han sostenido que éste asistió á la -jornada de la Tercera, fundándose en que así lo indica en el pedimento -de la Información del año 1590; pero si tenemos en cuenta que en -dicho documento van englobados los servicios de Miguel y Rodrigo de -Cervantes, y por ende que es fácil atribuir al uno los hechos del otro -hermano, que Miguel estaba en Tomar por Mayo de 1581, en Cartagena -á fines de Junio de este año, ocupado en cosas del servicio de S. -M., y en Madrid por el otoño de 1583, que el Marqués de Santa Cruz, -después de haber reducido la Tercera y otras islas, entró en Cádiz el -15 de Septiembre del dicho año, se hace casi imposible que Miguel de -Cervantes pudiera asistir á dicha jornada." - -[31] _Ibid._, p. 89. "Madrid, 10 Septiembre, 1585. En la villa de -Madrid, a diez días del mes de septiembre de mill y quinientos y -ochenta y cinco años, en presencia de mi el presente y testigos de yuso -escriptos parescieron presentes Rodrigo de Zervantes y doña Magdalena -de Zervantes, hermanos, residentes en esta corte, e dixeron que por -quanto habrá dos años, poco más o menos tiempo, Miguel de Zerbantes, -su hermano, por orden de la dicha doña Magdalena empeñó al señor -Napoleon Lomelin cinco paños de tafetan amarillos y colorados para -aderezo de una sala, que tienen setenta y quatro varas y tres quartas, -por treinta ducados, y que hasta agora han estado en el empeño, y la -dicha doña Magdalena hizo pedimento ante el señor alcalde Pedro Bravo -de Sotomayor en que pidió se le entregasen pagado el dicho empeño, y -después de haber puesto y fecho el dicho pedimento se han concordado -en esta manera.... Testigos que fueron presentes a lo que dicho es, -Juan Vázquez del Pulgar y Juste de Oliva, sastre, los quales juraron a -Dios en forma debida de derecho conocer a los dichos otorgantes y que -se llaman e nombran como de suso dize sin cautela, y Marcos Diaz del -Valle, estantes en Madrid, y los dichos otorgantes lo firmaron de sus -nombres.--Rodrigo de Cerbantes.--Doña Magdalena de Cerbantes--Pasó ante -mi Baltasar de Ugena. Derechos real e medio." - -[32] Curiously enough, there is some dispute as to whether Cervantes's -great rival, Lope de Vega, did or did not take part in an expedition -to the Azores. Lope's assertion in his _Epístola_ to Luis de Haro is -explicit enough. If any doubt on the subject has arisen, this is mainly -due to Lope's vanity in under-stating his age. - -[33] See the _Letter Dedicatory_ in Gálvez de Montalvo's _Pastor -de Fílida_ addressed to Don Enrique de Mendoza y Aragón. Gálvez de -Montalvo rejoices in his good fortune without any false shame: "Entre -los venturosos, que a U. S. conocen, i tratan, he sido yo uno, i estimo -que de los más, porque deseando servir a U. S. se cumplio mi deseo, i -assi degè mi casa, i otras mui señaladas, dò fué rogado que viviesse, i -vine a èsta, donde holgaré de morir, i donde mi mayor trabajo es estar -ocioso, contento, i honrado como criado de U. S." - -[34] See the suggestive observations of that admirable scholar, Madame -Carolina Michaëlis de Vasconcellos in Gustav Gröber's _Grundriss der -romanischen Philologie_ (Strassburg, 1897), II Band, 2 Abteilung, p. -216, _n._ 2. "Schon an den Namen _Amadís_ knupft sich so manche Frage. -Ist er eine willkurliche, auf der Halbinsel entstandene Abänderung -aus dem frz. _Amadas_ (engl. _Amadace_) latinisirt zu _Amadasius_? d. -h. eine wohlklingendere Analogiebildung zu dem portug. Namen _Dinís_? -also _Amad-ysius_? Man vergleiche einerseits: _Belis Fiis Leonis Luis -Belianis Belleris; Assiz Aviz; Moniz Maris_ etc., und andererseits -das alte Adj. _amadioso_, heute _(a)mavioso_. Oder gab es eine frz. -Form in _-is_, wie die bereits 1292 vorkommende ital. (_Amadigi_) -wahrscheinlich machen würde, falls sie erwiesen echt wäre (s. _Rom._ -xvii., 185)?..." - -[35] See a very interesting note in _Il Cortegiano del Conte Baldesar -Castiglione annotato e illustrato da Vittorio Cian_ (Firenze, 1894), p. -327. Commenting on Castiglione's allusion to _Amadís_--"pero bisogneria -mandargli all'Isola Ferma" (lib. iii., cap. liv.)--Professor Cian notes -the rapid diffusion of _Amadís de Gaula_ in Italy: "Ma i' _Amadís_ era -conosciuto assai prima frai noi, ed è notevole a questo proposito una -lettera scritta in Roma da P. Bembo, il 4 febbraio 1512, al Ramusio, -nella quale parlando del Valerio (Valier), loro amico, e amico del -nostro C. e dell' Ariosto e dei Gonzaga di Mantova, il poeta veneziano -ci porge questa notizia: 'Ben si pare che il Valerio sia sepolto in -quel suo Amadagi....' (pubbl. da me nel cit. _Decennio delta vita del -Bembo_, p. 206)." - -[36] See vol. xl. of Manuel Rivadeneyra _Biblioteca de autores -españoles_ entitled _Libros de caballerías con un discurso preliminar y -un catalógo razonado por Don Pascual de Gayangos_ (Madrid, 1857), pp. -xxxi. et seqq. - -[37] The Portuguese case is well stated by Theophilo Braga in his -_Historia das novelas portuguezas de cavalleria_ (Porto, 1873), in his -_Questões de litteratura e arte portugueza_ (Lisboa, 1881), and in -his _Curso de historia de litteratura portugueza_ (Lisboa, 1885). It -is most forcibly summarized by Madame Michaëlis de Vasconcellos (_op. -cit._, pp. 216-226) who cites, as partisans of the Portuguese claim, -Warton, Bouterwek, Southey, Sismondi, Clemencín, Ticknor, Wolf, Lemcke, -and Puymaigre. To these names might be added those of the two eminent -masters, M. Gaston Paris and Sr. D. Marcelino Menéndez y Pelayo. - -[38] See _La Littérature française au moyen âge XI^e-XIV^e siècle par -Gaston Paris, Membre de l'Institut_. Deuxième édition revue, corrigée, -augmentée et accompagnée d'un tableau chronologique. (Paris, 1890). -Referring to the _romans bretons_, M. Gaston Paris writes (p. 104): -"Le Perceforest français au XIV^e siècle, _l'Amadís_ portugais puis -espagnol aux XV^e et XVI^e siècles sont des imitations de ces grands -romans en prose." - -[39] Chiefly by Gayangos in the _Discurso preliminar_ to Rivadeneyra, -vol. xl.; by José Amador de los Ríos in his _Historia crítica de la -literatura española_ (1861-65), vol. v., pp. 78-97; by Eugène Baret -in _De l'Amadis de Gaule_ (second edition, Paris, 1871); by Ludwig -Braunfels in his _Kritischer Versuch über den Roman Amadis von -Gallien_ (Leipzig, 1876); and by Professor Gottfried Baist in the -above-mentioned section of the _Grundriss der romanischen Philologie_, -pp. 440-442. - -[40] See the _Arcadia di Jacobo Sannazaro secondo i manoscritti e le -prime stampe con note ed introduzione di Michele Scherillo_ (Torino, -1888). - -[41] _Ibid._, pp. cclxi.-cccxliv. - -[42] Compare, for example, Garcilaso's lines:-- - - Tengo vna parte aqui de tus cabellos, - Elissa, embueltos en vn blanco paño; - Que nunca de mi seno se me apartan. - Descojolos, y de vn dolor tamaño - Enternecer me siento, que sobre 'llos - Nunca mis ojos de llorar se hartan, - Sin que de allí se partan: - Con sospiros calientes, - Mas que la llama ardientes: - Los enxugo del llanto, y de consuno - Casi los passo y cuento vno a vno, - Iuntandolos con vn cordon los ato, - Tras esto el importuno - Dolor, me dexa descansar vn rato. - -with the lines sung by Meliseo at the end of Sannazaro's twelfth -_egloga_:-- - - I tuoi capelli, o Phylli, in una cistula - Serbati tegno, et spesso, quand' io volgoli, - Il cor mi passa una pungente aristula. - Spesso gli lego et spesso oimè disciolgoli, - Et lascio sopra lor quest' occhi piovere; - Poi con sospir gli asciugo e inseme accolgoli. - Basse son queste rime, exili et povere; - Ma se'l pianger in Cielo ha qualche merito, - Dovrebbe tanta fe' Morte commovere. - Io piango, o Phylli, il tuo spietato interito, - E'l mondo del mio mal tutto rinverdesi. - Deh pensa, prego, al bel viver preterito, - Se nel passar di Lethe amor non perdesi. - -An exhaustive study on Garcilaso's debts to Italy is given by Professor -Francesco Flamini--_Imitazioni italiane in Garcilaso de la Vega_--in -_La Biblioteca delle scuole italiane_ (Milano, June 1899). - -[43] See George Ticknor's _History of Spanish Literature_ (Sixth -edition, Boston, 1888), vol. iii., p. 94. Ticknor, however, failed to -notice that the date in his copy was a forgery: see Mr. J. L. Whitney's -_Catalogue_ (Boston, 1879), p. 234, and compare Salvá y Mallen, _op. -cit._, vol. ii., p. 168. - -[44] Scherillo, _op. cit._, p. ccxlvii. - -[45] The proof of this has been supplied independently by the late John -Ormsby (see vol. iii. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1901), p. 51, -_n._ i.); by Professor Hugo Albert Rennert (see _The Spanish Pastoral -Romances_ (Baltimore, 1892), p. 9); and by myself (see the _Revue -hispanique_ (Paris, 1895), vol. ii., pp. 304-311). All three appear -to have been anticipated in the excellent monograph entitled _Jorge -de Montemayor, sein Leben und sein Schäferroman die_ "_Siete Libros -de la Diana_" _nebst einer Übersicht der Ausgaben dieser Dichtung -und bibliographischen Anmerkungen herausgegeben von Georg Schönherr_ -(Halle, 1886), p. 83. - -The decisive point is that Ticknor's copy, the oldest known edition, -must be at least as late as 1554, for Montemôr here refers to the -Infanta Juana as a widow: see (lib. iv.) the fifth stanza of the _Canto -de Orfeo_. Her husband, Dom João, died on January 2, 1554. A duplicate -of the Ticknor volume is in the British Museum library. - -[46] See the preface to Fray Bartholomé Ponce's _Primera Parte de la -Clara Diana á lo divino, repartida en siete libros_ (Zaragoza, 1582): -"El año mil quinientos cincuenta y nueue, estando yo en la corte del -Rey don Philipe segundo deste nombre ... vi y ley la Diana de Jorge -de Mõtemayor, la qual era tan accepta quanto yo jamas otro libro en -Romance aya visto: entonces tuue entrañable desseo de conocer a su -autor, lo qual se me cumplio tan a mi gusto, que dentro de diez días -se offrecio tener nos combidados a los dos, vn canallero muy Illustre, -aficionado en todo estremo al verso y poesia." - -[47] For Ribeiro, see Madame Michaëlis de Vasconcellos, _op. cit._, pp. -291-295. Ribeiro's work seems to have been printed posthumously, the -earliest known edition being issued at Ferrara in 1554. But, as Madame -Michaëlis de Vasconcellos observes (p. 295, _n._ 8): "Dass lange vor -dem ital. Drucke Ribeiro's wie Falcao's Werke grossen Ruf hatten, steht -ausser Zweifel. Sie müssen in Handschriften oder Flugblättern unter den -Lesenden Kurs gehabt haben." It is, perhaps, not superfluous to mention -that Ribeiro's _Menina e moça_, like Virgil's _Formosum Corydon ardebat -Alexim_, takes its title from the opening words. - -[48] See Schönherr, _op. cit._, p. 26. "Was das genauere Datum des -Todes Montemayor's betrifft, so wird hierfür im Vorwort der _Diana_ ed. -1622 der 26. Februar des Jahres 1561 angegeben, und zwar war es des -Dichters Freund Alonso Pérez, der es der Nachwelt überlieferte, wiewohl -es sich in dessen erster, 1564 erschienener Ausgabe der _Segunda Parte -de la Diana_ noch nicht findet. Die Richtigkeit seiner Angabe lässt -sich einigermassen prufen, nicht mit Hülfe der Elegie des Dorantes, die -Salvá's Vermutung (No. 1909) entgegen der Ausgabe vom Jahre 1561 noch -nicht angehängt ist, wol aber in Hinblick auf des oben stehende Sonett -Pagan's, welches bereits in dessen 1562 erschienener _Floresta de varia -poesía_ enthalten ist, so dass man hiernach keine Ursache hat, der -Datierung des Pérez zu misstrauen." - -The sonnet mentioned by Schönherr, and reprinted by Salvá y Mallen, -occurs on _f_ of Diego Ramírez Pagán's _Floresta de varia poesía_ -(1562): - - Nuestro Monte mayor, do fué nascido? - En la ciudad del hijo de Laerte. - Y que parte en la humana instable suerte? - Cortesano, discreto, y entendido. - Su trato como fué, y de que ha biuido? - Siruiendo, y no acerto, ni ay quien acierte. - Quien tan presto le dió tan cruda muerte? - Imbidia, y Marte, y Venus lo ha mouido. - Sus huessos donde están? En Piamonte. - Porque? Por no los dar a patria ingrata. - Que le deue su patria? Inmortal nombre. - De que? Larga vena, dulce, y grata. - Y en pago que le dan? Talar el monte. - Y haura quien le cultiue? No ay tal hõbre. - -The British Museum Library contains a copy of Ramírez Pagán's -_Floresta_: a book esteemed by Gallardo, Gayangos, and Salvá (_op. -cit._, vol. i., p. 153, no. 339) as "uno de los más raros que existen -en la literatura poética española." - -[49] See the prologue to Pérez' continuation (A 5 of the Antwerp -edition, 1580) " ... casi en toda esta obra no ay narracion, ni -platica, no solo en verso, más aun en prosa, que à pedaços de la flor -de Latinos y Italianos hurtado, y imitado no sea; y no pienso por ello -ser digno de reprehension, pues lo mesmo de los Griegos hizieron." - -[50] The whole history, bibliographical and literary, of the pastoral -movement in Spain may be studied in the searching and learned monograph -of Professor Hugo Albert Rennert, _The Spanish Pastoral Romances_ -(Baltimore, 1892). A minute examination of Texeda's plagiary, which -escaped detection by Ticknor, will be found on pp. 39-42 of Professor -Rennert's work. - -[51] The reference is, no doubt, to the passage in the fifth book of -Montemôr's _Diana_: "Y tomando el vaso que tenía en la mano izquierda -le puso en la suya á Sireno, y mando que lo bebiese, y Sireno lo hizo -luego; y Selvagia y Silvano bebieron ambos el otro, y en este punto -cayeron todos tres en el suelo adormidos, de que no poco se espantó -Felismena y la hermosa Belisa que allí estaba...." Cp. Sannazaro's -_Arcadia_ (_Prosa nona_, Scherillo's edition, p. 171): "Al quale -subgiunse una lodula, dicendo, in una terra di Grecia (dela quale yo -ora non so il nome) essere il fonte di Cupidine, del quale chiunche -beve, depone subitamente ognie suo amore." - -The expedient of the magic water, to which Cervantes refers once -more in the _Coloquio de los Perros_ (see vol. viii. of the present -edition (Glasgow, 1902), p. 163), seems to be as old as most things -in literature. Scherillo, in his valuable commentary to the _Arcadia_ -cites a parallel from Pliny, _Naturalis Historia_, lib. xxxi., cap. -16: "Cyzici fons Cupidinis vocatur, ex quo potantes amorem deponere -Mucianus credit." - -[52] It is just possible, however, that Cervantes may have omitted the -_Habidas_ deliberately; for though Ticknor (_op. cit._, vol. iii., p. -99, _n._ 18), on the authority of Gayangos, quotes the book as "among -the earliest imitations of the Diana," so excellent a scholar as -Professor Rennert (_op. cit._, p. 111) inclines to think "that it is -rather a 'Novela Caballeresca.'" - -[53] This seems to follow from the references in the _Viaje del -Parnaso_: - - El fiero general de la atrevida - Gente, que trae un cuervo en su estandarte, - Es ARBOLANCHES, muso por la vida (cap. vii., ter. 81). - -And - - En esto, del tamaño de un breviario - Volando un libro por el aire vino. - De prosa y verso que arrojó el contrario. - De verso y prosa el puro desatino - Nos dió á entender que de ARBOLANCHES eran - _Las Avidas_ pesadas de contino (cap. vii., ter. 60-61). - -These sallies have brought down on Cervantes the displeasure of -implacable bibliographers. Salvá y Mallen (_op. cit._, vol. ii., pp. -19-20, no. 1518) drily observes that, as the book is almost wholly in -verse, it does not at all correspond to Cervantes's description of it, -and he gives us to understand (what most readers have realised for -themselves) that, in criticism of his contemporaries, Cervantes--like -the rest of the world--is prone to err. - -See also _Cervantes vascófilo ó sea Cervantes vindicado de su supuesto -antivizcainismo por Julián Apráiz y Sáenz del Burgo, Natural de Vitoria -y vizcaino, alavés y guipuzcoano por todos sus abolengos_. Nueva -edición considerablemente aumentada (Vitoria, 1895), pp. 270-274. In -a note (p. 274) to his letter addressed (April 23, 1884), to Sr. D. -José Colá y Goiti, Dr. Apráiz--who courageously sets himself to prove -that Cervantes, so far from disliking the Basques as has been generally -supposed, had in fact the highest opinion of them--points out that -_Los nueve libros de las Habidas_ take no more space than a 16mo. -volume. "Y una vez leída la obra del poeta navarro insisto, tanto en -que no hay más prosa que brevísimos renglones del argumento de la obra, -como acerca del mérito que le reconocen Rosell, Gayangos y Vedia, y -Gallardo, mucho más habida cuenta de la temprana edad de 20 años que -tenía el poeta al escribir su poema, según el mismo dice al dirigirse -á la señora (_i.e._ Doña Adriana de Egues y de Biamonte), á quien lo -dedica. Parece que había muerto 3 años antes de la publicación de su -poema." - -If Arbolanche (or Arbolanches) really died in 1563, it is almost -impossible that Cervantes can have had--as has been insinuated--any -personal grudge against him. Perhaps he had read the _Habidas_ when he -was a lad, was bored, and in his old age exaggerated his impression, -without remembering very clearly the contents of the book. Or, it may -be, as Dr. Apráiz suggests (_op. cit._, pp. 273-274), that Cervantes -mistook Arbolanche (or Arbolanches) for the author of some dull -pastoral whose name escaped him. If this be so, it is exceedingly -regrettable that he should twice have made the same blunder: for the -consequence has been that the name of Arbolanche (or Arbolanches), a -poet of distinct merit, has become--among those who have not read him -and who follow Cervantes blindly--a synonym for a ridiculous prose -writer. Cp. the lines in the celebrated _Sátira contra los malos -escritores de su tiempo_ by Jorge Pitillas (_i.e._ José Gerardo de -Hervás y Cobo de la Torre):-- - - De Arbolanches descubre el genio tonto, - Nombra á Pedrosa novelero infando - Y en criticar á entrambos está pronto. - - -[54] See cap. iii., ter. 81-89. - - Miren si puede en la galera hallarse - Algún poeta desdichado acaso, - Que á las fieras gargantas puede darse.-- - Buscáronle, y hallaron á LOFRASO, - Poeta militar, sardo, que estaba - Desmayado á un rincón marchito y laso: - Que á sus _diez libros de Fortuna_ andaba - Añadiendo otros diez, y el tiempo escoge, - Que más desocupado se mostraba. - Gritó la chusma toda: Al mar se arroje, - Vaya LOFRASO al mar sin resistencia. - --Por Dios, dijo Mercurio, que me enoje. - ¿Cómo? ¿y no será cargo de conciencia, - Y grande, echar al mar tanta poesía, - Puesto que aquí nos hunda su inclemencia? - Viva _Lofraso_, en tanto que dé al día - Apolo luz, y en tanto que los hombres - Tengan discreta alegre fantasía. - Tocante á tí, o _Lofraso_, los renombres, - Y epítetos de agudo y de sincero, - Y gusto que mi cómitre te nombres.-- - Esto dijo Mercurio al caballero, - El cual en la crujía en pie se puso - Con un rebenque despiadado y fiero. - Creo que de sus versos le compuso, - Y no sé cómo fué, que en un momento - Ó ya el cielo, ó _Lofraso_ lo dispuso, - Salimos del estrecho á salvamento, - Sin arrojar al mar poeta alguno: - Tanto del sardo fué el merecimiento. - -[55] Salvá y Mallen (_op. cit._, vol. ii., p. 143, no. 1817) states -that the _Pastor de Fílida_ was reprinted at Lisbon in 1589. at Madrid -in 1590, at Barcelona in 1613, and at Valencia in 1792: and there may -be other editions. - -[56] Sannazaro's _Arcadia_ was translated into French by Jean Martin -in 1644; see Heinrich Koerting, _Geschichte des französischen Romans -im XVII Jahrhundert_ (Oppeln und Leipzig, 1891), vol. i., p. 64. -Montemôr's _Diana_ was translated into French by N. Colin in 1579. -Nicolas de Montreux, who used the anagram of Olenix du Mont-Sacré, -published the first volume of _Les Bergeries de Juliette_ in the same -year as the _Galatea_ (1585). - -[57] Cp. an interesting passage in the _Avant-propos_ to George Sand's -_François le Champi_ (Paris, 1868), pp. 15-16: - - --"Oui, oui, le monde naïf! dit-il, le monde inconnu, fermé à notre - art moderne, et que nulle étude ne te fera exprimer à toi-même, paysan - de nature, si tu veux l'introduire dans le domaine de l'art civilisé, - dans le commerce intellectuel de la vie factice. - - --Hélas! répondis-je, je me suis beaucoup préoccupé de cela. J'ai vu - et j'ai senti par moi-même, avec tous les êtres civilisés, que la - vie primitive était le rêve, l'idéal de tous les hommes et de tous - les temps. Depuis les bergers de Longus jusqu'à ceux de Trianon, la - vie pastorale est un Éden parfumé où les âmes tourmentées et lassées - du tumulte du monde ont essayé de se réfugier. L'art, ce grand - flatteur, ce chercheur complaisant de consolations pour les gens trop - heureux, a traversé une suite ininterrompue de _bergeries_. Et sous - ce titre: _Histoire des bergeries_, j'ai souvent désiré de faire un - livre d'érudition et de critique où j'aurais passé en revue tous ces - différents rêves champêtres dont les hautes classes se sont nourries - avec passion. - - J'aurais suivi dans leurs modifications toujours en rapport inverse - de la dépravation des mœurs, et se faisant pures et sentimentales - d'autant plus que la société était corrompue et impudente. Ce serait - un traité d'art complet, car la musique, la peinture, l'architecture, - la littérature dans toutes ses formes: théâtre, poëme, roman, églogue, - chanson; les modes, les jardins, les costumes même, tout a subi - l'engouement du rêve pastoral. Tous ces types de l'âge d'or, ces - bergères qui sont des nymphes et puis des marquises, ces bergères de - l'_Astrée_ qui passent par le Lignon de Florian, qui portent de poudre - et du satin sous Louis XV., et auxquels Sedaine commence, à la fin - de la monarchie, à donner des sabots, sont tous plus ou moins faux, - et aujourd'hui ils nous paraissent niais et ridicules. Nous en avons - fini avec eux, nous n'en voyons plus guère que sous forme de fantômes - à l'opéra, et pourtant ils ont régné sur les cours et ont fait les - délices des rois qui leur empruntaient la houlette et la panetière." - - -[58] See his _Apologie for Poetrie_ (Arber's reprint, London, 1869), p. -63. - -[59] See vol. iii. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1901), p. 8. - -[60] See the discussion in book iv. of the _Galatea_. - -[61] These borrowings have been pointed out by Sr. D. Marcelino -Menéndez y Pelayo in his _Historia de las ideas estéticas en España_ -(Madrid, 1883-1891), tom. ii., vol i., p. 108-109: " ... el sentido de -esta controversia es enteramente platónico, y derivado de León Hebreo, -hasta en las palabras, de tal suerte, que podríamos suprimirlas, á no -ser por la reverencia debida á todas las que salieron de la pluma de -Cervantes, puesto que nada original se descubre en ellas, y aun la -forma no es por cierto tan opulenta y pródiga de luz, como la de _El -Cortesano_." - -Sr. D. Adolfo y San Martín, in his Castilian translation of my _History -of Spanish Literature_ (Madrid, 1901) which he has enriched with many -valuable notes, observes (p. 325) that Cervantes, when writing the -preface to the First Part of _Don Quixote_ in 1604, evidently did not -know there were in existence at least three Spanish renderings of the -_Dialoghi_--one of them, published at Madrid in 1590, being by the -famous Inca, Garcilaso de la Vega. - -For León Hebreo (or Judas Abarbanel) see Solomon Munk, _Mélanges de -philosophie juive et arabe_ (Paris, 1857), pp. 522-528 and Dr. B. -Zimmels, _Leo Hebraeus, ein jüdischer Philosoph der Renaissance; sein -Leben, seine Werke und seine Lehren_ (Breslau, 1886). - -[62] Yet the obvious resemblances between the _Arcadia_ and the -_Galatea_ have been unaccountably overlooked by Francesco Torraca in -a monograph entitled _Gl'imitatori stranieri di Jacopo Sannazaro_ -(Seconda edizione accresciuta, Roma, 1882). "Non mi sembra, però, -che la _Galatea_ e l' _Arcadia_ di Lope contengano imitazioni dello -scrittore napoletano." (p. 23). - -[63] See cap. iii., ter. 49-51. - -[64] See Scherillo, _op. cit._, pp. ccliii.-cclx. for an interesting -and striking enumeration (which might, as the commentator says, -be extended) of Cervantes's debts to Sannazaro. It is quaint and -significant to find that while Sannazaro in his _Prosa duodecima_ -alludes apologetically, but with excellent reason, to _il mio picciolo -Sebetho_, Cervantes in his sixth book, with no reason of any sort, -introduces _las frescuras del apacible Sebeto_. - -[65] Cervantes, as appears from a somewhat confused allusion early in -the seventh chapter of the First Book of _Don Quixote_, seems to have -been one of the few (besides the author) who enjoyed _Carlos famoso_. -Zapata himself complained with a comic ruefulness that his forty -thousand lines were not widely appreciated, and that he was out of -pocket in consequence: "Yo pensé también que en haber hecho la historia -del Emperador Carlos V., nuestro señor, en verso, y dirigídola á su -pio y poderosísimo hijo, con tantas y tan verdaderas loas de ellos y -nuestros españoles, que había hecho algo. Costóme cuatrocientos mil -maravedís la ímpresión, y de ella no saqué sino saña y alongamiento -de mi voluntad." Zapata, however, consoles himself with thinking that -he is in good company and closes with a pious, confident moral: "De -Homero se dice que en su vida no se hizo de él caso, _et sua riderunt -tempora Meonidem_. Del autor del famoso libro poético de Amadís no se -sabe haste hoy el nombre, honra de la nacion y lengua española, que en -ninguna lengua hay tal poesía ni tan loable.... De manera que podemos -decir todos el _sic vos non vobis_ de Virgilio, por lo cual todos de -paso y como accesorio deben no poner su felicidad acá, donde no hay -ninguna, sino atender á aquello que Dios les ha prometido; que si -plantaren la viña de las buenas obras, gozarán perpétuamente del fruto -de ella y otro no se la vendimiará." See Zapata's _Miscelánea_ in the -_Memorial histórico español_ (Madrid, 1859), vol. xi., pp. 304-305. -It is interesting to note that Zapata hazards no guess as to the -authorship of _Amadís de Gaula_. - -[66] _Op. cit._, pp. 60-61, _n._ 76. - -[67] Sannazaro's latest and best editor, Signor Scherillo, is properly -sceptical (_op. cit._, pp. clxxvi.-ccviii.) as to many current -identifications of the personages in the _Arcadia_. It seems certain -that Barcinio is Chariteo of Barcelona, and that Summontio is Pietro -Summonto, the Neapolitan publisher of the book. It is probable that -Meliseo is Giovanni Pontani, and that Massilia is the author's -mother. It is possible that Sincero is Sannazaro. But, as Signor -Scherillo drily observes, it is not easy to follow those who think -that Sannazaro was Ergasto, Elpino, Clonico, Ophelia, and Eugenio--not -"three gentlemen at once," but five. Other writers hold that Ophelia -is Chariteo; that Pontano is Ergasto, Opico and Montano; that Eleuco -is the Great Captain; and that Arcadia stands for France. These and -similar absurdities are treated as they deserve in Signor Scherillo's -masterly introduction. - -[68] The supposition that Tirsi, in the _Pastor de Fílida_, was -intended to represent Cervantes is noted by Navarrete (_op. cit._, -p. 278), and on the authority of that biographer has been frequently -repeated. It is right to say that Navarrete simply mentions the -identification in passing, and that he is careful to throw all -responsibility for it on Juan Antonio Mayáns who was the first to -suggest the idea in the introduction to his reprint of the _Pastor de -Fílida_ (Valencia, 1792), pp. xxxvii, lxxvii, and lxxx. The theory has -been disproved by Juan Antonio Pellicer (_op. cit._, p. cxxxiii.) - -There can be no reasonable doubt that the Tirsi of the _Pastor de -Fílida_ is Francisco de Figueroa. It is absolutely certain that the -Tirsi of the _Galatea_ is Figueroa: for, in the Second Book, Cervantes -places it beyond question by ascribing to Tirsi two sonnets and a -_canción_ by Figueroa. Cp. _Poesías de Francisco de Figueroa, llamado -el Divino_ (Madrid, 1804). - - (_a_) ¡Ay de quan ricas esperanzas vengo - Al deseo más pobre y encogido, - Que jamas encerró pecho herido - De llaga tan mortal, como yo tengo! - Ya de mi fe, ya de mi amor tan luengo, - Que Fili sabe bien quan firme ha sido, - Ya del fiero dolor con que he vivido, - Y en quien la vida á mi pesar sostengo; - Otro más dulce galardon no quiero, - Sino que Fili un poco alce los ojos - A ver lo que mi rostro le figura: - Que si le mira, y su color primero - No muda, y aun quizá moja sus ojos, - Bien serán más que piedra helada y dura. (p. 17) - - (_b_) La amarillez y la flaqueza mia, - El comer poco y el dormir perdido, - La falta quasi entera del sentido - El débil paso, y la voz ronca y fría; - La vista incierta, y el más largo día - En suspiros y quejas repartido, - Alguno pensará que haya nacido - De la pasada trabajosa vía: - Y sabe bien amor, que otro tormento - Me tiene tal; y otra razón más grave - Mi antigua gloria en tal dolor convierte: - Amor solo lo sabe, y yo lo siento: - Si Fili lo supiese: ¡o mi suave - Tormento, o dolor dulce, o dulce muerte! (p. 15) - - (_c_) Sale la aurora de su fértil manto - Rosas suaves esparciendo y flores, - Pintando el cielo va de mil colores, - Y la tierra otro tanto, - Quando la dulce pastorcilla mía, - Lumbre y gloria del día, - No sin astucia y arte, - De su dichoso albergue alegre parte. (pp. 45-46). - -[69] _Op. cit._, p. 66. - -[70] Juan Antonio Mayáns declares (_op. cit._, p. xxxvii) that Damon is -Figueroa; but, as previously stated (p. xxxi, _n._ 2), his mistake is -shown by Pellicer. - -[71] This is not, however, the opinion of Eustaquio Fernández de -Navarrete (_op. cit._, p. xxxii): "Puede sospecharse que la primer -heroína de su novela no fué doña Catalina Palacios de Salazar, con -quien Cervantes casó á poco tiempo de publicar su libro, sino que lo -escribió en Portugal durante sus amores con una dama de aquel país, á -quien debió grandes obligaciones; y que después cuando volvió a España, -al trabar relaciones con doña Catalina, retocó la obra y la acomodó al -nuevo sugeto." This story of Cervantes's relations with an anonymous -Portuguese lady, supposed to be the mother of his illegitimate -daughter, was generally accepted till 1895. It was never anything more -than a wild guess and, thanks to Dr. Pérez Pastor, we now know that -there is no truth in it. - -On the other hand Sr. D. Ramón León Máinez, in his _Vida de Miguel -de Cervantes Saavedra_ (Cádiz, 1876), pronounces very emphatically -in favour of the current identifications as regards the hero and the -heroine: "En Elicio se ve con mucha perfección la imagen de Cervantes. -Galanteador, tímido, discreto, delicado, sentidisimo, su amor es tan -casto como los pensamientos de su alma. Adora más que ama; venera más -que pretende" (p. 69). "Ningún otro personaje puede encubrir á Elicio -sino Cervantes: ninguna otra señora puede velarse bajo la figura de -Galatea sino Doña Catalina de Palacios. Son los retratos al natural de -dos seres privilegiados, de dos personas ilustres, de dos amantes que -más ó menos encubiertamente se tributaban el homenaje de su adoracion." -(p. 71.) - -It will be observed that Sr. D. Ramón León Máinez takes things very -seriously. - -[72] See p. 6 of the present volume. - -[73] See the _Dorotea_, Act 2, sc. 2: "¿Qué mayor riqueza para una -mujer que verse eternizada? Porque la hermosura se acaba, y nadie que -la mire sin ella cree que la tuvo; y los versos de la alabanza son -eternos testigos que viven en su nombre. La Diana de Montemayor fué -una dama de Valencia de Don Juan, junto á León, y Ezla, su rio, y ella -serán eternos por su pluma. Así la Fílida de Montalvo, y la Galatea de -Cervantes, la Camila de Garcilaso, la Violante de Camoes, la Silvia de -Bernaldez, la Filis de Figueroa, la Leonor de Corte-Real no eran damas -imaginarias." - -[74] It is conjectured, for instance, that Lenio was intended for Pedro -Liñán de Riaza, and that Daranio was meant for Diego Durán. These are -simple guesses. - -[75] I do not profess to have counted the number, which I give on -the authority of Carlos Barroso: see his letter to Sr. Ramón León -Máinez, entitled _Mais noticias Cervanticas_, in the _Crónica de los -Cervantistas_ (Cádiz, 1872), vol. i., pp. 166 et seqq. - -[76] See _L'Avthevr a la Bergere Astrée_ at the beginning of the First -Part of _Astrée_, I quote from vol. i. of the Paris edition of 1647. - -[77] This, however, may be an unintentional slip into realism. But -it has all the effect of humour, and may fairly be bracketed with a -passage from the fourth book of Sidney's _Arcadia_, quoted by Professor -Rennert (_op. cit._, p. 11, _n._ 29): "O my dun-cow, I did think some -evil was towards me ever since the last day thou didst run away from -me, and held up thy tail so pitifully." - -[78] See Francisco Martínez Marina's _Ensayo histórico-crítico sobre -el origen y progresos de las lenguas: señaladamente del romance -castellano_ in the _Memorias de la Real Academia de la Historia_ -(Madrid, 1805), vol. iv., pp. 61-62: "Los primeros que se señalaron, -á mi parecer, en esos vicios, que es en preferir su gusto é ingenio á -las reglas del arte antigua, y en consultar más con su imaginación que -con los modelos del excelente lenguaje, y en pretender hacerse únicos -y singulares en su clase por la novedad de sus plumas, fueron, según -yo pienso, y permítaseme decir lo que ninguno ha dicho tan claramente -hasta ahora, los insignes Mariana y Cervantes. - -¡Qué nuevo y extraño es el modo de hablar del primero. ¿En qué se -parece al de nuestros mejores escritores castellanos? ¡Quán afectado su -estilo! ¡artificiosas las arengas! ¡estudiados los períodos y aun las -palabras, y hasta la colocacion de ellas!... Pues ¡y Cervantes quanto -ha latinizado! Véase la Galatea".... - -[79] In the Second Book of the _Galatea_, Silveria is said to have -green eyes, Attentive readers will remember that Loaysa has green -eyes in _El Celoso extremeño_: see vol. viii. of the present edition -(Glasgow, 1902), p. 24. Green would seem to have been a favourite -colour with Cervantes: see a paper entitled _Lo Verde_, published by -a writer who uses the pseudonym of Doctor Thebussem, in _La España -moderna_ (Madrid, March, 1894), vol. lxiii., pp. 43-60. - -[80] See vol. viii. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1902), pp. 163-164. - -[81] See vol. iii. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1902), pp. 52-53. - -[82] See the last paragraph of the _Galatea_: "El fin deste amoroso -cuento y historia, con los sucessos de Galercio, Lenio y Gelasia: -Arsindo y Maurisa; Grisaldo, Artandro y Rosaura: Marsilio y Belisa, -con otras cosas sucedidas á los pastores hasta aquí nombrados, en la -segunda parte desta historia se prometen. La qual, si con apazibles -voluntades esta primera viere rescebida, tendrá atrevimiento de salir -con brevedad a ser vista y juzgada de los ojos y entendimientos de las -gentes." - -[83] _Op. cit._, vol. ii., p. 119. - -[84] Sr. Asensio y Toledo has suggested (_Cervantes y sus obras_, -pp. 382-386) that Cervantes's reference in _Don Quixote_ to Bernardo -González de Bobadilla's _Nimphas y Pastores de Henares_, a pastoral -published at Alcalá in 1587, denotes some irritation against one -whom he possibly regarded as a poacher. What really happened was -that, during the diverting and important scrutiny of the Knight's -library, the Barber came upon González de Bobadilla's book, together -with Bernardo de la Vega's _Pastor de Iberia_ and Bartolomé López de -Enciso's _Desengaño de los celos_. The Priest directed the Barber to -"hand them over to the secular arm of the housekeeper, and ask me not -why, or we shall never have done." On the strength of this, some genial -contemporaries seem to have charged Cervantes with being jealous of -these obscure writers. Cp. the passage in the _Viaje del Parnaso_:-- - - Ni llamado, ni escogido - Fué el gran pastor de Iberia, el gran BERNARDO - Que DE LA VEGA tiene el apellido. - Fuiste envidioso, descuidado y tardo, - Y á las ninfas de Henares y pastores, - Como á enemigo les tiraste un dardo. - Y tienes tu poetas tan peores - Que estos en tu rebaño, que imagino - Que han de sudar si quieren ser mejores. - (cap. iv. ter. 169-171.) - - -[85] As Cervantes intended to dedicate the new _Don Quixote_ (and, -presumably, the new _Galatea_) to the Conde de Lemos, he may very -naturally have thought that it would be out of place to mention either -of these works in the dedication of the _Viaje del Parnaso_ to Rodrigo -de Tapia. But the short address to the reader gave him the opportunity -which no one used more cleverly--when he had any announcement to make. -Moreover, he had another excellent opening when he referred to the -_Galatea_ in the text of the _Viaje del Parnaso_: - - Yo corté con mi ingenio aquel vestido - Con que al mundo la hermosa Galatea - Salió para librarse del olvido. (cap. iv. ter. 5.) - -[86] " ...luego yra el gran Persiles, y luego las semanas del jardín, y -luego la segunda parte de la Galatea, si tanta carga pueden lleuar mis -ancianos ombros." - -[87] Lemos's liking for the _Galatea_ is mentioned in the Letter -Dedicatory to _Persiles y Sigismunda_: "si a dicha, por buena ventura -mía, que ya no sería ventura, sino milagro, me diesse el cielo vida, -las (_i.e._ Semanas del Jardín y Bernardo) verá y con ellas fin de la -Galatea, de quien se està aficionado Vuessa Excelencia...." - -[88] See vol. iv. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1901), p. 8. - -[89] See note (2) above. - -[90] It may be convenient to point out that the _Arcadia_ mentioned in -the text is a play published in the _Trezena Parte de las Comedias de -Lope de Vega Carpio_ (Madrid, 1620) and should not be confounded with -Lope's pastoral novel, the _Arcadia_ (Madrid, 1598). This warning will -appear unnecessary to Spanish scholars. But the bibliography of Lope's -works is so vast and intricate that a slip may easily be made. For -example, Mr. Henry Edward Watts (_Life of Miguel de Cervantes_, London, -1891, p. 144) at one time mistook Lope's _Dorotea_ for the _Arcadia_, -assuming the former to be a pastoral novel. This very curious error is -corrected in the same writer's _Miguel de Cervantes, his life & works_ -(London, 1895, p. 200, _n._) with the remark that "if any blunder is -excusable in a writer it is that of not remembering the name of one -of Lope's multitudinous productions." In the same work we are assured -(p. 111) that of all Lope's plays "there are not half-a-dozen whose -names are remembered to-day out of Spain; nor one character, scene or -line which any one not a member of the Spanish Royal Academy cares to -recall." If ignorance has really reached this point, the caution given -in the opening words of this note may be useful to the general reader. - -[91] Sr. D. Ramón León Máinez, in an exuberant paragraph, sketches out -(_op. cit._, p. 71) the continuation as he believes Cervantes to have -conceived it: "Si más tarde hubiera cumplido su promesa de estampar -la segunda parte de aquella obra bellísima, que indudablemente dejó -escrita al morir, y fué una de las producciones suyas inéditas que se -perdieron; cuán deleitosa y dulcemente hubiera hablado en ella de la -prosecución de sus amores, de la fina correspondencia en lo sucesivo -para con él por parte de su idolatrada doncella, del allanamiento de -dificultades, del progreso de sus aspiraciones y de la realización de -sus deseos! Allí nos hubiera descrito con la perfección, dulzura y -encanto que él sabíalo hacer, el regocijo de su alma, la felicidad de -su amada, el vencimiento de su contrario, los esmeros y desvelos de -los amigos, el beneplácito de sus deudos, y su bien logrado casamiento -con doncella tan ilustre, de tal hermosura y virtud adornada. El -relato de las bodas estaría hecho en la segunda parte de _Galatea_ con -encantadora sencillez, y con amenidad incomparable, como trabajo al fin -de mano tan maestra y acreditada." - -This prophecy tends to allay one's regret for the non-appearance of the -_Galatea_; but it is exceedingly possible that Sr. Máinez knows no more -of Cervantes's intentions than the rest of us. - -[92] For particulars, see Professor Rennert, _op. cit._, pp. 64-119. - -[93] _Vida de Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra_ (Cádiz, 1876): "_La -Galatea_ de Cervantes á todas las producciones pastoriles sobrepuja -en las dotes inventivas. No mentemos esa innumerabilidad de -composiciones que aparecieron antes y después de 1584. Comparar -con ellas la concepción de Cervantes, sería ofender la memoria de -este autor esclarecido" (p. 67). "_La Galatea_ no sólo es una obra -superior entre todas las pastorales españolas, mirada en cuanto á -la inventiva: es también mejor que las que antes y después de su -aparición se publicaron, considerada bajo el punto de vista de la forma -y de los méritos literarios" (p. 79). Cp. also a passage on p. 65: -"Tal vez ninguno de los idiomas modernos pueda ofrecer tan preciadas -concepciones como en este género presentan las letras castellanas." -The biographer notes the weak points of Montemôr's _Diana_, of Gil -Polo's _Diana enamorada_, of Lope de Vega's _Arcadia_ (the novel, not -the play), of Suárez de Figueroa's _Constante Amarilis_, of Valbuena's -_Siglo de oro_, and concludes (p. 68): "el talento de Cervantes era -tan grande, tan superior, tan de eximio y delicado gusto, que supo -evitar todos esos vicios, olvidarse de todos los defectos, para imitar -lo bueno, y ofrecer una obra, en lo posible, perfecta. Vense en ella -acción dramática, vitalidad, episodios interesantísimos, escenas -amenas, gracia, seducción, hermosura. El ánimo se solaza y dulcemente -se regocija al presenciar tal conjunto de preciosidades." - -Sr. Máinez praises (p. 80), as a model of style, a passage in the -First Book of the _Galatea_, beginning: "En las riberas de Betis, -caudalosísimo río que la gran Vandalia enriquece, nació Lisandro -(que éste es el nombre desdichado mío), y de tan nobles padres, cual -pluguiera al soberano Dios que en más baja fortuna fuera engendrado." -Scherillo points out, however (_op. cit._, p. cclv), that this is -modelled upon the opening of Sincero's story in the _Prosa settima_ of -Sannazaro's _Arcadia_: "Napoli (sicome ciaschuno molte volte può avere -udito) è nela più fructifera et dilectevole parte de Italia, al lito -del mare posta, famosa et nobilissima città.... In quella dunque nacqui -io, ove non da oscuro sangue, ma (se dirlo non mi si disconviene) -secondo che per le più celebre parti di essa città le insignie de' -miey predecessori chiaramente dimostrano: da antichissima et generosa -prosapia disceso, era tra gli altri miei coetanei forse non il minimo -riputato." - -[94] See August Wilhelm von Schlegel's _Sämmtliche Werke_ (Leipzig, -1846-1847), vol. i., p. 339 for a sonnet on the _Galatea_:-- - - Wie blauer Himmel glänzt auf Thales Grüne - Ein heller Strom fleusst lieblich auf und nieder - Von Berg und Wald verdeckt, erscheint er wieder, - Und spiegelt klar der Landschaft bunte Bühne. - - Wer ist die Blonde dort mit sitt'ger Miene? - Wie tönen süss die Leid- und Liebes- Lieder! - Mit ihren Heerden nah'n die Hirtenbrüder, - Und jeder zeigt, wie er der Holden diene. - - O Lust und Klang! o linde Aetherlüfte! - Im zarten Sinn sinnreich beschneider Liebe - So Himmlisches, doch Kindlichem Verwandtes. - - Fremd wären uns die feinsten Blumendüfte, - Wenn Galatea nicht sie uns beschreibe, - Die Göttliche des göttlichsten Cervantes. - -Friedrich von Schlegel is no less rapturous in prose. See his -corybantics in the periodical entitled _Athenaeum_ (Berlin, 1799), -vol. ii., pp. 325-326. After referring to Cervantes as the author of -_Don Quixote_, Schlegel continues: "der aber doch auch noch andre ganz -ehr-und achtbare Werke erfunden und gebildet hat, die dereinst wohl -ihre Stelle im Allerheiligsten der romantischen Kunst finden werden. -Ich meyne die liebliche und sinnreiche Galatea, wo das Spiel des -menschlichen Lebens sich mit beschneidner Kunst und leiser Symmetrie -zu einem künstlich schönen Gewebe ewiger Musik und zarter Sehnsucht -ordnet, indem es flieht. Es ist der Blüthekranz der Unschuld und -der frühsten noch schücternen Jugend." He repeated his enthusiastic -appreciation in the following year (_Athenaeum_, Berlin, 1800, vol. -iii., p. 80): "Da Cervantes zuerst die Feder statt des Degens ergriff, -den er nicht mehr führen konnte, dichtete er die Galatea, eine -wunderbar grosse Composition von ewiger Musik der Fantasie und der -Liebe, den zartesten und lieblichsten aller Romane." ... - -[95] See William H. Prescott, _Biographical and Critical Miscellanies_ -(London, 1845), p. 114. - -[96] See _Miguel de Cervantes, his life & works_ by Henry Edward Watts. -(London, 1895), p. 88. - -[97] See vol. iii., p. xxvi, and vol. vii., p. xiv, _n._ 2 of the -present edition (Glasgow, 1901-1902). Cp. M. Alfred Morel-Fatio's -interesting monograph, _Ambrosio de Salazar et l'étude de l'espagnol -sous Louis XIII_. (Paris and Toulouse, 1901). - -[98] It may be interesting to read the address _A los estudiosos y -amadores de las lenguas estrangeras_ at the beginning of his reprint: -"Llevome la curiosidad a España el año passado, y mouiome la misma -estando allí, a que yo buscasse libros de gusto y entretenimiento, -y que fuessen de mayor prouecho, y conformes a lo que es de mi -profession, y también para poder contentar a otros curiosos. Ya yo -sabia de algunos que otras vezes auian sido traydos por acá, pero -como tuuiesse principalmente en mi memoria a este de la Galatea, -libro ciertamente digno (en su género) de ser acogido y leydo de los -estudiosos de la lengua que habla, tanto por su eloquente y claro -estilo, como por la sutil inuencion, y lindo entretenimiento, de -entricadas auenturas y apazibles historias que contiene. De más desto -por ser del author que inuento y escriuio, aquel libro, no sin razón, -intitulado _El ingenioso hidalgo don Quixote_. Busquelo casi por toda -Castilla y aun por otras partes, sin poderle hallar, hasta que passando -a Portugal, y llegando a vna ciudad fuera de camino llamada Euora, -tope con algunos pocos exemplares: compre vno dellos, mas leyendole vi -que la impression, que era de Lisboa, tenía muchas erratas, no solo en -los caracteres, pero aun faltauan algunos versos y renglones de prosa -enteros. Corregilo y remendelo, lo mejor que supe; también lo he visto -en la presente impression, para que saliesse vn poco más limpio y -correcto que antes. Ruego os pues lo recibays con tan buena voluntad, -como es la que tuue siempre de seruiros, hasta que y donde yo pueda. C. -Oudin." - -[99] The following statement occurs in _Miguel de Cervantes, his life -& works by Henry Edward Watts_ (London, 1895), p. 179, _n._ 1: "This -French ambassador, called by the Spanish commentators the _Duque de -Umena_, must have been the Duc de Mayenne, who was sent by the Regent -Anne of Austria, to conclude the double marriage of the Prince of -Asturias (afterwards Philip IV.) with Isabelle de Bourbon, and of Louis -XIII. of France with the Infanta Ana, eldest daughter of Philip III." - -The familiar formula--"must have been"--is out of place here. The -necessity does not exist. It seems unlikely that Márquez Torres can -have met the members of Mayenne's suite on February 25, 1615; for -Mayenne's mission ended two and a half years previously. Mayenne and -his attachés left Madrid on August 31, 1612: see Luis Cabrera de -Córdoba, _Relaciones de las cosas sucedidas en la Córte de España, -desde 1599 hasta 1614_ (Madrid, 1857), p. 493, and François-Tommy -Perrens, _Les Mariages espagnols sous le règne de Henri IV. et la -régence de Marie de Médicis, 1602-1615_ (Paris, 1869), pp. 403 and -416-417. "Umena" is, as everybody knows, the old Spanish form of -Mayenne's title; but no Spaniard ever dreamed of applying this title to -the ambassador of whom Márquez Torres speaks. As appears from a letter -(dated February 18, 1615) to "old Æsop Gondomar," the special envoy to -whom Márquez Torres refers was known as "Mr. de Silier": see Navarrete, -_op. cit._, pp. 493-494. Mr. de Silier was the brother of Nicolas -Brûlart, Marquis de Sillery, Grand Chancellor of France from September, -1607, to May, 1616. The special envoy figures in French history as the -Commandeur Noel Brûlart de Sillery: he and his suite reached Madrid -on February 15, 1615 (Navarrete, _op. cit._, p. 493), and they left -that city on March 19, 1615 (Perrens, _op. cit._, p. 519). One might -have hoped that, as M. de Sillery founded the mission of Sillery near -Quebec, his name would be known to all educated Englishmen. His death -on September 26, 1640, is mentioned by his confessor, St. Vincent de -Paul, in a letter to M. Codoing, dated November 15, 1640. See _Lettres -de S. Vincent de Paul_ (Paris, 1882), vol. i., p. 100. - -I do not know who the above-mentioned "Regent Anne of Austria" is -supposed to be. The French Regent who sent Mayenne and Sillery to Spain -was Marie de Médicis, mother of Louis XIII. Her regency ended in 1615. -In 1615 Anne of Austria, sister of Philip IV., became the wife of Louis -XIII. Her regency began in 1643. It would almost seem as though the -earlier French Queen-Regent had been mistaken for her future Spanish -daughter-in-law, or, as though the writer were unaware of the fact that -the "Regent Anne of Austria" and the "Infanta Ana" were really one and -the same person. But the whole passage indicates great confusion of -thought, as well as strange misunderstanding of Navarrete's words and -of the document printed by him. - -An old anecdote, concerning Cervantes and a French Minister at the -Spanish Court, is inaccurately reproduced in _Camoens: his Life and -Lusiads. A Commentary by Richard F. Burton_ (London, 1881), vol. i., p. -71: "Cervantes, who had been excommunicated, whispered to M. de Boulay, -French Ambassador, Madrid, 'Had it not been for the Inquisition, I -should have made my book much more amusing.'" Sir Richard Burton -evidently quoted from memory, and, as his version is incorrect, it -may be advisable to give the idle tale as it appeared originally in -_Segraisiana ou Mélange d'histoire et de littérature. Recueilli des -Entretiens de Monsieur de Segrais de l'Académie Françoise_ (La Haye, -1722), p. 83: "Monsieur du Boulay avoit accompagné Monsieur * * * -dans son Ambassade d'Espagne dans le tems que Cervantes qui mourut en -1618 vivoit encore: il m'a dit que Monsieur l'Ambassadeur fit un jour -compliment à Cervantes sur la grande réputation qu'il s'étoit acquise -par son _Dom Quixotte_, au de-là des monts: & que Cervantes dit à -l'oreille à Monsieur l'Ambassadeur, sans l'Inquisition j'aurois fait -mon Livre beaucoup plus divertissant." - -It will be observed that M. du Boulay was not Ambassador; that he does -not pretend to have heard Cervantes's remark; that he merely repeats -the rumour of what Cervantes was alleged to have whispered to M. * * * -(who may, or may not, be M. de Sillery); and that he does not mention -the Ambassador as his authority for the story. Moreover, Jean Regnauld -de Segrais was born in 1624, and died in 1701. Assuming that he was -no more than thirty when he met M. du Boulay, this would mean that -the story was told nearly forty years after the event. If the volume -entitled _Segraisiana_ was compiled towards the end of Segrais' life, -we are at a distance of some eighty years from the occurrence. In -either case, there is an ample margin for errors of every kind. - -[100] Gregorio Mayáns y Siscar suggests (_op. cit._, vol. i., pp. -28-29) that the _Aprobación_, though signed by Márquez Torres, was -really written by Cervantes himself: "57 ... Pensarà el Letor que quien -dijo èsto, fué el Licenciado Màrquez Torres; no fué sino el mismo -Miguèl de Cervantes Saavedra: porque el estilo del Licenciado Màrquez -Torres, es metaforico, afectadillo, i pedantesco; como lo manifiestan -los _Discursos Consolatorios que escriviò a Don Christoval de Sandoval -i Rojas, Duque de Uceda en la Muerte de Don Bernardo de Sandoval i -Rojas, su hijo, primer Marquès de Belmonte_; i al contrario el estilo -de la _Aprovacion_, es puro, natural, i cortesano, i tan parecido -en todo al de Cervantes, que no ai cosa en él que le dístinga. El -Licenciado Màrquez era Capellán, i Maestro de Pages de Don Bernardo -Sandoval i Rojas, Cardenal, Arzobispo de Toledo, Inquisidor General; -Cervantes era mui favorecido del mismo. Con que ciertamente eran -entrambos amigos. - -"58. Supuesta la amistad, no era mucho, que usase Cervantes de -semejante libertad. Contèntese pues el Licenciado Màrquez Torres, con -que Cervantes le hizo partícipe de la gloria de su estilo. I veamos que -moviò a Cervantes a querer hablar, como dicen, por boca de ganso. No -fué otro su designio, sino manifestar la idea de su Obra, la estimacion -de ella, i de su Autor en las Naciones estrañas, i su desvalimiento en -la propia." - -Navarrete protests (_op. cit._, pp. 491-493) against the theory put -forward by Mayáns, notes that Márquez Torres published his _Discursos_ -in 1626 when _culteranismo_ was in full vogue, and contends that he may -have written in much better style eleven years earlier. - -It would be imprudent to give great importance to arguments based -solely on alleged differences of style. That Márquez Torres was in holy -orders, and that he was appointed chaplain to a prelate so virtuous -and clear-sighted as the Cardinal-Archbishop of Toledo are strong -presumptions in his favour. Nothing that is known of him tends to -discredit his testimony. It would be most unjustifiable to assume of -any one in his responsible position that he was capable of inventing -an elaborate story from beginning to end, and of publishing a tissue -of falsehoods to the world. Nor can we lightly suppose that Cervantes -would lend himself to such trickery. The probability surely is that -there is some good foundation for the anecdote, though perhaps the tale -may have lost nothing in the telling. - -Still, the history of literature furnishes analogous examples of -persons who tampered with preliminary matter--dedications and the -like--and stuffed these pages with praises of themselves. Le Sage -evidently refers to a recent incident in real life when he interpolates -the following passage into the revised text of _Le Diable boiteux_ -(Rouen, 1728), pp. 37-38: "A propos d'Epîtres Dédicatoires, ajoûta le -Démon, il faut que je vous raporte un trait assez singulier. Une femme -de la Cour aiant permis qu'on lui dédiât un ouvrage, en voulut voir -la Dédicace avant qu'on l'imprimât, & ne s'y trouvant pas assez bien -loüée à son gré, elle prit la peine d'en composer une de sa façon & de -l'envoier à l'Auteur pour la mettre à la tête de son ouvrage." - -A somewhat similar instance is afforded by La Rochefoucauld, who asked -Madame de Sablé to review his _Pensées_ in the _Journal des Savants_. -The lady thoughtfully submitted the manuscript of her article to the -author, and the result is recorded by Hippolyte Cocheris, _Table -méthodique et analytique des articles du Journal des Savants depuis -sa réorganisation en 1816 jusqu'en 1858 inclusivement précédée d'une -notice historique sur ce journal depuis sa fondation jusqu'à nos jours_ -(Paris, 1860), pp. vi.-vii. "Larochefoucauld prit au mot Mme de Sablé; -il usa très-librement de son article, il supprima les critiques, -garda les éloges, et le fit insérer dans le _Journal des Savants_ -(1665, p. 116 et suiv.), ainsi amendé et pur de toute prétention à -l'impartialité." - -[101] The full title of d'Urfé's book is _L'Astrée, où par plusieurs -histoires et sous personnes de bergers et d'autres sont déduits les -divers effects de l'Honneste Amitié_. The date of publication has -long been doubtful; it is now, apparently, established that the First -Part, consisting of twelve books, was originally issued in 1607. Only -one copy of this edition is known to exist. For a description of this -unique volume, discovered by M. Edwin Trossat at Augsburg in 1869, see -the _Catalogue des livres du baron James de Rothschild_ (Paris, 1887), -vol. ii. p. 197, no. 1527. - -D'Urfé had been preceded by Nicolas de Montreux who, under the -anagrammatic pseudonym of Olenix du Mont-Sacré, had published the five -volumes entitled _Les Bergeries de Juliette_ at Paris between 1585 -and 1598: see Heinrich Koerting, _Geschichte des französichen Romans -im XVII. Jahrhundert_ (Oppeln und Leipzig), vol. i., pp. 66-68. But, -though Jean-Louis Guez de Balzac declares (_Œuvres complètes_, Paris, -1665, vol. ii. p. 634) that _Les Bergeries de Juliette_ was long -preferred to _Astrée_ by French provincials during the seventeenth -century, Montreux found so little favour in Paris, that he abandoned -pastoralism, and took to writing a history of the Turks instead: see -Émile Roy, _La Vie et les œuvres de Charles Sorel, sieur de Souvigny, -1602-1674_ (Paris, 1891), pp. 115-116. It was d'Urfé who made the -pastoral fashionable. Part of his immediate vogue may be attributed to -the fact that his Euric, Galatée, Alcidon and Daphnide were supposed -to represent Henri IV., Marguerite de Valois, the Duc de Bellegarde, -and the Princesse de Conti. These dubious identifications, however, -would not explain the enthusiasm of readers so different in taste -and character, and so far apart in point of time, as St. François de -Sales, Madame de Sévigné, Prévost (the author of _Manon Lescaut_), -and Rousseau. There is no accounting for tastes, and perhaps Márquez -Torres's polite Frenchman sincerely admired the _Galatea_; but indeed -he had left a far better pastoral at home. _Astrée_ greatly exceeds -the _Galatea_ in achievement, importance, and significance. M. Paul -Morillot is within the mark in saying: "_L'Astrée_ de d'Urfé est -vraiment notre premier roman; elle est l'ancêtre, la source de tous -les autres" (_Le Roman en France_, p. 1). He perhaps grants too much -by his admission (p. 27) that "de nos jours _L'Astrée_ est tout à fait -oubliée." A useful _Index de "L'Astrée"_ by Saint-Marc Girardin proves -that the book has had passionate admirers down to our time: see the -_Revue d'Histoire littéraire de la France_ (Paris, 1898), vol. v., pp. -458-483 and 629-646. The _Index_ has an interesting prefatory note by -M. Paul Bonnefon. - -[102] Besides (1) the _princeps_, published at Alcalá de Henares by -Juan Gracián in 1585 there are the following editions of the _Galatea_: -(2) Lixboa, Impressa con licencia de la Sancta Inquisición, 1590; (3) -Paris, Gilles Robinot, 1611; (4) Valladolid, Francisco Fernández de -Cordona, 1617; (5) Baeza, Juan Bautista Montoya, 1617; (6) Lisboa, -Antonio Álvarez, 1618; (7) Barcelona, Sebastián de Cormellas, 1618; (8) -Madrid, Juan de Zúñiga (Francisco Manuel de Mena), 1736; (9) Madrid, la -Viuda de Manuel Fernández, 1772; (10) Madrid, Antonio de Sancha, 1784; -(11) Madrid, Imprenta de Vega, 1805; (12) Madrid, los hijos de Da. -Catalina Piñuela, 1829; (13) Paris, Baudry, 1835; (14) Paris, Baudry, -1841; (15) Madrid, Rivadeneyra, 1846; (16) Madrid, Rivadeneyra, 1863; -(17) Madrid, Gaspar y Roig, 1866; (18) Madrid, Álvarez hermanos, 1875; -(19) Madrid, Nicolás Moya, 1883. - -It may be well to state that in Nos. (12), (13), (14), (15), (16) -and (17) the _Galatea_ is not printed separately, but forms part of -collections of Cervantes's works. - -It has hitherto been uncertain whether No. (5) really existed or -not. It is noted by Nicolás Antonio (_op. cit._, vol. ii., p. 105). -This Baeza edition is also mentioned under the heading of _Romans -historiques_ by Gordon de Percel who, in all likelihood, simply copied -the note from Antonio: see _De l'usage des romans où l'on fait voir -leur utilité & leurs differens caracteres avec une_ _Bibliothèque des -romans, accompagnée de remarques critiques sur leur choix et leurs -éditions_ (Amsterdam, 1734), vol. ii., p. 108. Despite the imprint on -the title-page, this work was actually issued at Rouen: see a valuable -article in the _Revue d'Histoire littéraire de la France_ (Paris, 1900, -vol. vii., pp. 546-589) by M. Paul Bonnefon who describes Gordon de -Percel--the pseudonym of the Abbé Nicolas Lenglet du Fresnoy--as an -odious example of an odious type, carrying on the _métier d'espion sous -couleur d'érudit_. - -There can now, apparently, be no doubt that an edition of the _Galatea_ -was printed at Baeza in 1617, for Rius (_op. cit._, vol. i., p. 104) -states that he possesses a letter from the Marqués de Jerez, dated -September 14, 1890, in which the writer explicitly says a copy of this -edition was stolen from him at Irún. I do not at all understand what -Rius can mean by the oracular sentence which immediately precedes this -statement: "No tengo noticia de ejemplar alguno, ni sé que nadie la -(_i.e._ la edición) haya visto." - -It has been remarked in the text of this Introduction (p. xxxv) that -Cervantes applies the word _discreta_ with distressing frequency to -his heroine and her sister shepherdesses. The repetition of this -adjective appears to have produced a considerable impression on the -Lisbon publisher, Antonio Álvarez, for his edition--No. (6) in the -above list--is entitled _La discreta Galatea_. No. (5) is also said to -be entitled _La discreta Galatea_. But on this point no one, save the -Marqués de Jerez de los Caballeros, can speak with any certainty. - -[103] Koerting (_op. cit._, vol. i., p. 65) states that d'Audignier -translated the _Galatea_ into French in 1618. This is a mistake. -Koerting was probably thinking of the _Novelas exemplares_. Six -of these (_La Española inglesa_, _Las dos Doncellas_, _La Señora -Cornelia_, _La Ilustre fregona_, _El Casamiento engañoso_, and the -_Coloquio de los perros_) were translated by d'Audignier in 1618, the -remaining tales being rendered by Rosset. - -[104] Now best remembered, perhaps, by Giovanni Martini's setting of -the _romance_-- - - Plaisir d'amour ne dure qu'un moment-- - -which, sung by that incomparable artist, Madame Pauline Viardot-Garcia -(sister of Malibran, and wife of the well-known Spanish scholar, Louis -Viardot), delighted our fathers and mothers. It may be worth noting -that the song is assigned to the goatherd in _Célestine: Nouvelle -Espagnole_. Readers of contemporary literature will remember the -adaptation of the opening words by the Baron Desforges in M. Paul -Bourget's _Mensonges_. - -[105] _Causeries du lundi_ (Troisième édition, Paris), vol. iii., p. -236. Joubert's appreciation of Florian's talent is practically the -same as Sainte-Beuve's. In his _Pensées_ (titre xxiv., art. xxxi.), he -expresses himself thus, concerning Florian's extremely free rendering -of _Don Quixote_, first published in 1799: "Cervantes a, dans son -livre, une bonhomie bourgeoise et familière, à laquelle l'élégance -de Florian est antipathique. En traduisant _Don Quichotte_, Florian -a changé le mouvement de l'air, la clef de la musique de l'auteur -original. Il a appliqué aux épanchements d'une veine abondante et riche -les sautillements et les murmures d'un ruisseau: petits bruits, petits -mouvements, très-agréables sans doute quand il s'agit d'un filet d'eau -resserré qui roule sur des cailloux, mais allure insupportable et -fausse quand on l'attribue à une eau large qui coule à plein canal sur -un sable très-fin." - -[106] _Causeries du lundi_ (Troisième Edition, Paris), vol. iii., p. -238. See also M. Anatole France, _La Vie littéraire_ (Paris, 1889), -p. 194. "Longtemps, longtemps après la mort de Florian, Rose Gontier, -devenue la bonne mère Gontier, amusait ses nouvelles camarades comme -une figure d'un autre âge. Fort dévote, elle n'entrait jamais en scène -sans faire deux ou trois fois dans la coulisse le signe de la croix. -Toutes les jeunes actrices se donnaient le plaisir de lutiner celle qui -jouait si au naturel _Ma tante Aurore_; elles l'entouraient au foyer et -lui refaisaient bien souvent la même question malicieuse: - ---Mais est-ce bien possible, grand'maman Gontier, est-il bien vrai que -M. de Florian vous battait? - -Et, pour toute réponse et explication, toute retenue qu'elle était, la -bonne maman Gontier leur disait dans sa langue du dix-huitième siècle: - ---C'est, voyez-vous, mes enfants, que celui-là ne payait pas." - -[107] Rius (_op. cit._, vol. ii., 319) mentions three editions of -Pellicer's translation, the latest being dated 1830. A reprint is -said to have been issued at Paris in 1841. On p. xvii of the 1814 -edition--the only one within my reach--Casiano Pellicer suggests that -Cervantes introduced Diego Durán into the _Galatea_ under the name of -Daranio: "Puedese presumir que el Daranio, cuyas bodas refiere tan -menudamente, sea Diego Durán, á quien supone natural de Toledo ó de su -tierra, y alaba también en su canto de Calíope de gran poeta." - -[108] The title of this arrangement is _Los Enamorados ó Galatea y sus -bodas. Historia pastoral comenzada por Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, -Abreviada después, y continuada y últimamente concluida por D. Cándido -María Trigueros_ (Madrid, 1798). - -[109] The only translations of the _Galatea_ are the following:-- - - English (by Gordon Willoughby James Gyll), London, 1867, 1892. - - German (by F. Sigismund), Zwickau, 1830; (by A. Keller and F. Notter), - Stuttgart, 1840; (by F. M. Duttenhofer), Stuttgart, 1841. - - -[110] Gyll's name is very naturally omitted from the _Dictionary of -National Biography_. His publications, so far as I can trace them, are -as follows: - -(1) _The Genealogy of the family of Gylle, or Gill, of Hertfordshire, -Essex and Kent, illustrated by wills and other documents_ (London, -1842). This pamphlet is an enlarged reprint of a contribution to -_Collectanea Topographica et Genealogica_, vol. viii. - -(2) _A Tractate on Language_ (London, 1859): a second revised edition -appeared in 1860. - -(3) _History of the Parish of Wraysbury, Ankerwycke Priory, and Magna -Charta Island; with the History of Horton, and the Town of Colnbrook, -Bucks._ (London, 1862.) - -(4) _Galatea: A pastoral romance. By Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra. -Literally translated from the Spanish_ (London, 1867). A posthumous -reprint was issued in 1892. - -(5) _The Voyage to Parnassus: Numantia, a Tragedy; The Commerce of -Algiers, by Cervantes. Translated from the Spanish...._ (London, 1870). - -Concerning the writer I have gathered the following particulars: they -are to some extent derived from statements scattered up and down his -works. For the references to _Notes and Queries_ I am particularly -indebted to Mr. W. R. Morfill, the distinguished Reader in Slavonic at -the University of Oxford. - -Our Gyll was born on August 1, 1803 (_History of Wraysbury_, p. -100), being the third son of William Gill (at one time an officer -in the army), and the grandson of a City alderman. William Gill, -the elder, was a partner in the firm of Wright, Gill, and Dalton, -wholesale stationers in Abchurch Lane, London. He was elected alderman -in 1781, served as Sheriff in 1781-1782, was appointed Treasurer -of Christ's Hospital in 1784-1785, and in due course became Lord -Mayor for 1788-1789. He died in the Treasurer's house at Christ's -Hospital on March 26, 1798, being then seventy-four years of age: his -brother-in-law and partner, Thomas Wright, died on April 9, 1798. An -obituary note in _The Gentleman's Magazine_ (vol. lxviii., p. 264) -states that the elder William Gill "was a respectable tradesman and -died immensely rich." The younger William Gill died on February 16, -1806, at the age of thirty-one. I do not know to what school Gordon -Willoughby James Gill was sent. He speaks of himself as "a member of -the University of Oxford" (_A Tractate on Language_, First Edition, p. -iii.). This is confirmed by the appended note in the Matricula Book, -which am enabled to print through the kindness of my friend Mr. H. -Butler Clarke:-- - -"From the Register of Matriculations of the University of Oxford. 1822 -Jan. 15. Coll. Pemb. Gordon Willoughby Jacobus Gill, 18, Gulielmi, de -par. S. Mariæ bonæ Arm. fil. 3^{ius}. - -A true extract, made 30 Jan^{y.}, 1903 by T. Vere Bayne, Keeper of the -Archives." - -Unfortunately, this entry is not an autograph: all the other entries on -the page which contains it are, as the Keeper of the Archives informs -me, in the same handwriting. The _Oxford University Calendar_ for 1823 -gives (p. 275) our author's names in this form and sequence: James -Willoughby Gordon Gill. This form and order are repeated in the _Oxford -University Calendar_ for the years 1824 and 1825. In the alphabetical -index to the _Calendar_ for 1823-1824-1825 this Pembroke undergraduate -is entered as: _Gill, James G. W._ As the editors of the semi-official -_Calendar_ derive their information from the College authorities, -we may take it that, from 1822 to 1825 inclusive, the future author -passed as James Gill at Pembroke, and amongst those who knew him best. -It cannot be supposed that the Master and Fellows of Pembroke made -a wrong return for three consecutive years, nor that they wilfully -reversed the order of Gill's Christian names with the express object of -annoying him. Had they done either of these things, Gill was the very -man to protest energetically: his conduct in later years snows that -he was punctilious in these matters. However, it is right to bear in -mind that the Matricula Book gives Gill's Christian names in the same -order as they appear on his title-pages. I have failed to obtain any -details of his career at Pembroke. Mr. Wood, the present Librarian at -Pembroke, states that there is "no proper record" of the Commoners at -that College in Gill's time. On this point I have only to say that the -poet Thomas Lovell Beddoes was in residence at Pembroke with Gill, and -that information concerning Beddoes's undergraduate days is apparently -not lacking. Possibly more careful research might discover some trace -of Gill at Oxford. He seems to have taken no degree, and to have left -no memory or tradition at Pembroke. He himself tells us (_A Tractate -on Language_, First Edition, p. iii) that when at Oxford "he formed an -acquaintance with a gentleman of considerable erudition, but not of -either University, who had made the English tongue his peculiar care." -To this association we owe _A Tractate on Language_, and, perhaps, the -peculiarities of style which Gill afterwards developed. But, in the -latter respect, a serious responsibility may attach to Milton; for, in -his _Tractate_, Gill refers to the poet and laments (p. 224) that, at -the period of which he speaks, "the Allegro and Penseroso were confined -to the closets of the judicious." The inference is that Gill modelled -his diction on both these poems. - -His name disappears from the _Oxford University Calendar_ in 1826. He -visited Mexico in 1832 (_History of Wraysbury_, p. 49), and perhaps -during this journey he picked up a queer smattering of Spanish. On -August 29, 1839, he married "Anne Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Edward -Bowyer-Smijth, Bt.," and this seems to have given a new direction to -what he calls his "studious tendencies." - -The founder of his wife's family was plain William Smith, who died in -1626; this William Smith's son developed into Thomas Smyth, and died a -baronet in 1668; Sir Thomas Smyth's great-great-grandson, the seventh -baronet, was known as Sir William Smijth, and died in 1823. Gill's -father-in-law,--Vicar of Camberwell and Chaplain to George IV.--was the -ninth baronet. On June 10, 1839, he assumed the name of Bowyer by royal -license, and was styled Sir Edward Bowyer-Smijth. In this the Vicar -was practically following the lead of his younger brother, a captain -in the 10th Hussars, who assumed the name of Windham by royal license -at Toulouse on May 22, 1823, and thenceforth signed himself Joseph -Smijth-Windham. The contagion infected Gill. - -After his marriage to Miss Bowyer-Smijth, third daughter of the ninth -baronet, Gill became a diligent student of genealogy, heraldry and -county-history. It might be excessive to say that he was attacked by -the _folie des grandeurs_; but he does appear to have felt that, since -the Smiths had blossomed into Bowyer-Smijths and Smijth-Windhams, a -man of his ability was bound to do something of the same kind for the -ancient house of Gill. And something was done: a great deal, in fact. -The first-fruits of Gill's enterprise are garnered in _The genealogy -of the family of Gylle, or Gill, of Hertfordshire, Essex and Kent, -illustrated by wills and other documents_ which he printed in 1842. -At this first stage he acted with praiseworthy caution, signing his -pamphlet with the initials G. G. If he was ever known by so vulgar a -name as James--the name of the patron-saint of Spain--he had evidently -got rid of it by 1842. At Pembroke in 1823 his initials were J. G. W. -G., according to the _Oxford University Calendar_: nineteen years later -they were G. G. This advancement passed unnoticed, and the delighted -investigator continued his researches. These were so successful that, -according to Gill's shy confession wrung from him long afterwards, "as -the old annals, parish registers, tombs, wills. &c., wrote our name -Gyll, we, by sign manual, returned to that orthography in 1844": (see -_Notes and Queries_, March 24, 1866, vol. ix., p. 250). The English -of this avowal is bad, but the meaning is clear. Henceforward Gill is -transfigured into Gyll. These easy victories led him to enlarge his -plan of campaign, and thus we find in the 1846 edition of _Burke's -Landed Gentry_ the pedigree of the family of Gyll of Wyrardisbury, -which contains the statement that on October 13, 1794, the head of the -house (of the Gylls of Wyrardisbury), "William Gyll, Esquire, Captain -2nd Regiment Life Guards, and Equerry to H. R. H. the Duke of Sussex" -married "Lady Harriet Flemyng, only child of the Right Hon. Hamilton -Flemyng, last Earl of Wigtoun, and had issue" our author, and other -children with whom we are not concerned here. - -According to George Lipscomb's _History and Antiquities of the County -of Buckingham_ (London, 1847, vol. iv., p. 605, _n._ 1.), it was on -December 17, 1844, that "Her Majesty was pleased ... to permit the -family of Gyll of Wyrardisbury, to resume the ancient orthography -of their name." The enthusiastic Gyll (as we must now call him) -interpreted the privilege in a generous fashion. It galled the -patrician to think that his grandfather had been a lowly alderman, -and to know that this lamentable fact was on record at Wraysbury. -There were epitaphs in Wraysbury Church describing his grandfather as -"Alderman of the City of London"; describing his father as "only son -of Alderman Gill"; describing his aunt, Mrs. Paxton, as "daughter of -William Gill, Esq., Alderman of the City of London." Our Gyll had all -these odious references to the aldermanship removed; in their stead he -introduced more high-sounding phrases; he interpolated the statement -that his grandfather was "of the family of Gyll of Wyddial, Herts"; -and on all three monuments he took it upon himself to change Gill into -Gyll. The changes were made clumsily and unintelligently, but one -cannot have everything. Gordon Gyll was indefatigable in his pious -work, and, within three years, he somehow induced Lipscomb (_op. cit._, -vol. iv., p. 604) to insert a pedigree connecting the family of "Gyll -of Buckland and Wyddial Hall, co. Herts, Yeoveny Hall, co. Middlesex, -and Wyrardisbury Hall, co. Bucks," with certain Gylls established in -Cambridgeshire during the reign of Edward I. It is impossible not to -admire the calm courage with which the still, strong man swept facts, -tombstones, epitaphs, and obstacle's of all kinds from the path of his -nobility. - -His proceedings passed unnoticed during fourteen happy years. At -last attention was drawn to them in _Notes and Queries_ (May 11, -1861, p. 365) by a correspondent who signed himself "A Stationer." "A -Stationer" remarked sarcastically on the erasure of all references to -the aldermanship from the monuments in Wraysbury Church, noted that -the dead Gills had been glorified into Gylls, deplored Gordon Gyll's -ingratitude towards the ancestors to whom he owed everything, censured -Gyll's conduct as "silly," and protested against such tampering as -improper. The editor of _Notes and Queries_ supported "A Stationer's" -view on the ground that monuments had hitherto been accepted as -testimony in suits at law, and that their evidential value would be -completely destroyed if Gyll's example were generally followed. Gyll -put on his finest county manner, and replied in an incoherent letter -(_Notes and Queries_, May 26, 1861, p. 414) which breathes the haughty -spirit of a great territorial chieftain. He denounced the insolence of -"A Stationer" in daring to criticize "a county family," branded the -intruder as a "tradesman," a "miserable citizen critic," and pitied the -poor soul's "confined education." But he failed to explain his conduct -satisfactorily, and laid himself open to the taunts of Dr. J. Alexander -(_Notes and Queries_, June 8, 1861, p. 452), who declared that Gyll had -"proved himself unable to write English, and ignorant of some of the -simplest rules of composition." Dr. Alexander added that,--if a licence -obtained in 1844 could justify changing the spelling of the name of a -man who died in 1798,--by parity of reasoning, "had the worthy alderman -accepted the proferred baronetcy, all his ancestors would, _ipso -facto_, become baronets. I believe China is the only country where -this practice obtains." In the same number of _Notes and Queries_, "A -Stationer" returned to the subject, and posed a number of very awkward -questions. "Are the Gylls really a county family? And when did they -become so? Has any member of the house ever filled the office of Knight -of the shire, or even that of sheriff for the county of Buckingham?" -And, after reproaching Gyll for his repudiation of his hard-working -grandfather, "A Stationer" ended by assuring the proud squire that "the -Stationers of London have a more grateful recollection of their quondam -brothers and benefactors--for benefactors they were to a very unequal -extent. From Alderman Wright, the Stationers received 2000_l._ 4 per -cents.: from Alderman Gill (who left a fortune of £300,000) 30_s._ a -year to be added to Cator's dinner. However, their portraits are still -to be seen in the counting-house of the Company, placed in one frame, -side by side. "_Par nobile fratrum!_" Gyll dashed off a reply which -the editor of _Notes and Queries_ (June 29, 1861, p. 520) declined to -insert: "as we desire to avoid as much as possible any intermixture -of personal matters into this important question." At this the blood -of all the Gylls boiled in the veins of Gordon Willoughby James. -He was not to be put off by a timorous journalist, and he secured -the insertion in _Notes and Queries_ (July 27, 1861, p. 74) of an -illiterate letter which, says the editor, "we have printed ... exactly -as it stands in the original." The letter seems to have been written -under the influence of deep emotion, for the aristocratic Gyll twice -speaks of his grandfather as a "party." He demanded an ample apology, -and ended with the announcement that "if I do not hear from you I shall -send the family lawyer to meet the charge." Gyll did not obtain the -apology, did not attempt to answer "A Stationer's" string of questions, -did not accept the editor's offer to print the suppressed letter, did -not "send the family lawyer to meet the charge." In fact he did nothing -that he threatened to do, and nothing that he was asked to do. If he -consulted his solicitor, the latter probably joined with the editor and -told him not to make a fool of himself. - -But Gyll had no idea of abandoning his pretensions, and he renewed -them with abundant details in his _History of Wraysbury_, a quarto -which contains more than its title implies. He is not content to note -(p. 153) that "occasionally those dreary landmarks in the vast desert -of human misery, called Coroner's inquests, arise in Wraysbury." He -also proves, to his own satisfaction, that "the family of Ghyll, -Gyll, Gylle, Gille, Gill, for it is recorded in all these ways, is -derived from that one which resided in the North, temp. Edward the -Confessor, 1041, at Gille's Land in Cumberland" (p. 99), and that "in -1278 Walter le Gille served as a juryman at Tonbridge" (p. 98). The -arms of the Gylls are duly given: "Sable, two chevrons argent, each -charged with three mullets of the field, on a dexter Canton, or; a lion -passant at guard, gules. Also Lozenges or and vert; a lion rampant at -guard, gules." Heralds whom I have consulted have jeered at the Gyll -escutcheon, but I cannot bring myself to give their ribald remarks in -print. Apparently, the main purpose of the _History of Wraysbury_ is -to shew that the Gylls (with a _y_) are very Superior Persons, and -that the Gills (with an _i_) are People of No Importance. Gyll admits -that the latter produced a worthy man in the person of John Gill, "a -Baptist divine"; and the historian, when writing of his poor relations -(p. 125), emphasizes the fact that John Gill was not an Anabaptist. -Anabaptists were evidently an inferior set. - -It will be seen that Gyll traced back his pedigree to a period earlier -than the Norman Conquest: six centuries before his wife's ancestors -(then known as Smith) were first heard of. It was a great achievement -and henceforth no Gyll need fear to look a Bowring-Smijth in the face. -And Gyll's ambition grew. He could not prove that he was the child of a -baronet, and, in so much, he was in a position of social inferiority to -his wife. But he did the next best thing by declaring that, if he was -not the son of a baronet, he easily might have been. In his _History -of Wraysbury_, he states (p. 97) that his grandfather was Lord Mayor -of London when George III. went to St Paul's to give thanks for his -recovery from his first attack of insanity, that the usual patent -"was prepared and announced in all the public papers, 18th and 19th -April, 1789, to create him a Baronet, which is usual when the King -honours the city on any great occasion, but the profered advancement -was not accepted for family reasons. Nor was the claim revived until -his son "William Gyll, Captain 2nd Life Guards, who had in 1803 at his -own expense raised two troops of cavalry at the threat of invasion, -solicited the favour which his father had injudiciously declined, when -he too unfortunately died prematurely, and the expected honour has not -since been conferred." This is a repetition of a favourite phrase: for -Lipscomb (_op. cit._, vol. iv., p. 605, _n._ 3) states that the younger -William Gyll "unfortunately died suddenly, and the expected honour -has not since been conferred." One can guess the source of Lipscomb's -information. - -I regret to say that Gyll throws all the blame for this catastrophe -on his grandmother, as may be seen by an intemperate foot-note which -follows the passage just quoted from the _History of Wraysbury_: "His -(the Lord Mayor's) wife Mary induced him to forego the honour, because -there was a son by his first wife, who only survived a few years and -died unmarried. Women may be very affectionate but not discreet. They -have a fibre more in their hearts, and a cell less in their brains than -men." This is most improper, no doubt. Still, great allowance should be -made for the exasperation of a man who longed to be a baronet's son, -who might have been one, and who was not. - -Gyll had certainly played his part gallantly. Considering the material -that he had to use, he worked wonders. He had (perhaps) transformed -himself from James to Gordon; he had (unquestionably) evolved from -Gill to Gyll. He had wiped out the horrid memory of the aldermanship, -and had buried the old stationer's shop miles beneath the ground-floor -of limbo. And there is testimony to his social triumphs in the list -of subscribers that precedes his _History of Wraysbury_, which is -dedicated "by permission" to the late Prince Consort. Among the -subscribers were two dukes, two earls, five barons, ten baronets: -and these great personages were followed by Mr. Disraeli, Mr. Milner -Gibson, the Dean of Windsor, the Provost of Eton, and other commoners -of distinction. - -It was a glorious victory which Gyll enjoyed in peace for four years. -Then his hour of reckoning came. A correspondent of _Notes and -Queries_, signing himself "Anglo-Scotus," pointed out (February 24, -1866, p. 158) that the statement concerning the Gylls in _Burke's -Landed Gentry_ was erroneous; that no officer named Gyll ever held a -commission in either regiment of the Life Guards; that Hamilton Flemyng -was not the last (or any other) Earl of Wigtoun; and that consequently -no such person as Lady Harriet Flemyng ever existed. Gyll pondered -for a month and then, at last, nerved himself to write to _Notes and -Queries_ (March 24, 1866, p. 250) asserting that Hamilton Flemyng was -"_per legem terrae_, 9th and last Earl of Wigton." His letter was -thought to be too rambling for insertion: the editor confined himself -to printing this crucial passage, and referred Gyll to the report -of the Committee for Privileges which set forth that "the claimant -(Hamilton Flemyng) hath no right to the titles, honours, and dignities -claimed by his petition." This report was quoted in the same number of -_Notes and Queries_ (pp. 246-247) by an Edinburgh correspondent signing -himself G., and G. went on to say that, though no Gyll ever held a -commission in the Life Guards, a certain William Gill figures in the -Edinburgh Almanacs for 1794-5-6 as a Lieutenant in the 2nd Life Guards. -I have since verified this statement, and I find that William Gill was -gazetted to the 2nd Life Guards on September 26, 1793. In spite of -the interest that he took in his family history, Gyll had no accurate -knowledge of his father's doings. William Gill was transferred to the -Late 2nd Troop of Horse Grenadier Guards (a reduced corps receiving -full pay) on March 23, 1796, and he retired on March 19, 1799 (see _The -London Gazette_, Nos. 13,878 and 15,116). But Gyll was ever a muddler -and a bungler. He informed Lipscomb that his father had "died suddenly" -(_op. cit._, vol. iv., p. 605); while, in the _History of Wraysbury_ -(p. 121), he copies an epitaph recording William Gill's death "after a -long and painful illness." - -It was thus established that the family name was Gill; that the younger -William Gill did not marry the daughter of the last Earl of Wigton (or -Wigtoun); that he was never a Captain in the 2nd Life Guards; and that -in 1803, when he was alleged to have raised two troops of cavalry, he -had already resigned his commission four years. Human nature being -what it is, this exposure may have brought a smile to the lips of the -Bowyer-Smijths who had listened to Gyll's stories of a cock and of a -bull for a quarter of a century. Gyll collapsed at once when detected, -and he published no more results of his genealogical researches. It is -a pity, for who knows to what length of absurdity he might not have -gone? Who knows, indeed, whether his little tale of the Lord Mayor -and the baronetcy is not of a piece with the rest? I have searched -the contemporary newspapers, and the nearest approach that I can find -to a confirmation of Gyll's assertion is in _The Diary; or Woodfall's -Register_ (Friday, April 24, 1789): "That the Lord Mayor will be a -Baronet is now certain; and that Deputies Seekey and Birch will be -knighted is extremely probable." I do not know what happened to Seekey -and Birch. The Gylls are enough for a lifetime. Years afterwards a -correspondent to _Notes and Queries_ (December 26, 1876, p. 512) -derisively observed that "the Gyll family, however, quarter the Flemyng -arms, and also the Flemyng crest." But the badger was not to be drawn a -third time: Gyll endured the affront in the meekest silence. - -The versatile man had relieved his severe antiquarian studies by -excursions into light literature. _A Tractate on Language_ was -published because, as the author avows (p. iii), "he thought (perhaps -immaturely) that some occult treasures and recondite truths in -philology were eliminated, and were worthy public consideration." When -Gyll wrote these words (1859) he was in his fifty-seventh year, and -was as mature as he was ever likely to be. The work, which contains -the alarming statement (p. 171) that "Noah taught his descendants his -matricular tongue," seems to have been rudely handled by critics. In -the second edition of his _Tractate_ Gyll replies with the ladylike -remark that "as regards his opinions, it was not consistent with -equity or delicacy that they should have been encountered with _savage -phrenzy_;" and, with a proper contempt for reviewers, he adds that -"while such reviews indulge thus indiscriminately, pourtraying sheer -obliquity of mind and judgment in lieu of that _manly acumen_ to which -they pretend, the critics must perceive how much below the dignity -of the criticised it is to evince uneasiness or resentment--both as -easily 'shaken off as dewdrops from the lion's mane.'" It is unlikely -that Gyll is widely read nowadays, and this is my excuse for doing -what I can to save two distinguished aphorisms from the wreck of his -_Tractate_. There is nothing like them (it is safe to say) in Pascal or -La Rochefoucauld. - -(_a_) "As in religion what is bones to philosophy is milk to faith" -(pp. iii-iv). - -(_b_) "A literary man, however, is like a silkworm employed and wrapped -up in his own work" (p. 163). - -After his exposure in _Notes and Queries_ Gyll dropped genealogy, -heraldry, and topography as though they were so many living coals. -But, though he dreaded the fire, he was still bent on making the world -ring with the name of Gyll. Spanish literature, which was at that -time cultivated in these islands by such men as Chorley, FitzGerald, -Archbishop Trench, Denis Florence Mac-Carthy and Ormsby, seemed to him -a promising field in which he should find no dangerous rivals. In the -_History of Wraysbury_ (p. 146) he included his own name among the -"names of literary and distinguished characters of Wraysbury," and -under the date 1860, he mentions his "Translation from the Spanish -of Don Guzmán de Alfarache." I presume this was a version of Mateo -Alemán's picaresque novel, but I can find no trace of it. At the age -of sixty-four the extraordinary Gyll furbished up the few words of -Spanish which he had learned in Mexico thirty-five years earlier, and -courageously started as a translator of Cervantes. His versions are -the worst ever published in any tongue. But criticism was impotent -against his self-complacency. A true literary man, he lived--to use his -own happy phrase--"like a silkworm employed and wrapped up in his own -work." On the whole his was a prosperous career. Carpers might do their -worst, but the solid facts remain. Gyll had practically blotted out the -stain of the stationer's shop and the aldermanship; he had obtained -permission to write his name with a _y_: he had elbowed his way into -county-histories, into Burke's _Landed Gentry_ and into Burke's -_General Armory_; he had published such works as, in all probability, -the world will never see again. He appreciated these performances to -the full, and he revelled in gazing on the south window in Wraysbury -Church, of which he writes (_History of Wraysbury_, p. 123): "At the -summit are two small openings of painted glass, and in the centre is -a quatrefoil in which the letters G. W. J. G. are convoluted.... The -play of colours on the monuments when the sun is brilliant, affords a -pleasing variegation." What more could the mind of man desire? Gordon -Willoughby James Gyll died on April 6, 1878. - -[111] See p. viii. of Gyll's version: "Dedicated by Cervantes, to -his Excellency Don Joseph Moniño, Count of Florida Blanca, Knight -of the Grand Cross of the Royal Order of K. Charles III." The -fact is, of course, that Gyll translated from _Los seis libros de -Galatea_, reprinted in 1784 by Antonio de Sancha with a dedication to -Floridablanca. The words--"Dedicated by Cervantes"--are interpolated -by Gyll. Floridablanca died in 1808, nearly two hundred years after -Cervantes. - -[112] Evidently a misprint for Silena. - -[113] In justice to Gyll, the polemist, I reprint his two letters -contributed to _Notes and Queries_ (May 25, 1861, and July 27, 1861):-- - -(_a_) "A STATIONER writes his remarks on the subject of some -alterations on lapidary inscriptions in Wraysbury Church: and pray, -Sir, by what right does this tradesman ask any family why they choose -to change a monumental reading, provided nothing is inserted which -militates against truth? - -What has the world to do with family arrangements? And whether is the -article to be taken for a _charge_ or a _lament_? I only wish this -busy citizen to employ his time more profitably--while I wonder that -any periodical should condescend to introduce the subject, without -notice being given to members of the family, and an inquiry made. If -they had reasons good for it, what on earth does the public care about -it? Certain words on certain monuments were not approved by a county -family, and they were omitted: and lo! a citizen rises to impeach the -_proprietary_ of it. The case stands thus, Monument No. 1: - -This was an unusually large slab, on which the simple record of the -deaths of Wm. Gyll, Esq., and his wife, were only inscribed. The family -thought the space might be occupied by the addition of other family -names, &c.--and it was done. And now the slab is full. - -No. 2. Wm. Gyll, Esq., was styled here Equerry to H.R.H. Duke of -Sussex; but that he was also Captain in the 2nd Life Guards was -omitted. It was deemed expedient to make room for its insertion, and it -was done. - -No. 3. On Mrs. Paxton's monument, a daughter of Wm. Gyll, Esq., the -latter gentleman is styled _of this parish_; and as he had considerable -property here, it was his proper designation. Room was made to effect -this, and it was done. - -There are thirteen monuments to the family of Gyll, or relations, in -the chancel of Wraysbury Church; and where the patronymic was spelt -with an _i_ as formerly, instead of _y_ as latterly, a change was made -that these names might correspond with the same orthography on other -monuments (see Chauncey & Clutterbuck, _Herts_), and with antique deeds -(see _Collectanea Topographica_, vol. viii.). - -The family for many years had returned to the _original_ mode of -spelling their patronymic, to distinguish them from other families -similarly called; and for this privilege a permission was obtained by -_sign manual_ in 1844. And if a correspondent change was made on the -monuments, what has anyone in the world to do with it but the family? - -In one case a mistaken date was inscribed, 17th for 26th March. This -is made a _charge and a crime_ by this miserable citizen critic, as if -these mistakes were made purposely. - -In two cases Dr. Lipscomb's monumental inscriptions give _widow_ for -wife, and _Sept._ for April. Had the STATIONER, who is so wonderfully -correct, and turns all things to wrongs, gone or sent to Wraysbury, he -would have found _his_ improvements already on the monuments. - -But his candid soul converts all this to _vanity_: and, no doubt, -vanity finds endless occupation for ingenuity and invention. Suggests -that a family ought to be proud of civic honours. Many thanks to the -_suggestive_ STATIONER; but if this family is not, what cares the world -about it? It may have gained nothing by the position; but if he will -be _obtrusive_, let him tell the next editor who is in want of matter -another _secret_--for he uses _this term_ in his disquisition--that Mr. -Gyll, in 1789, refused to be created a Baronet, and that the patent was -made out and was ready for execution. See the newspapers _passim_, 18th -and 23rd April, 1789. - -It may be the family desires no remembrance of the honours conferred, -or the honours proffered; and if so, what daring presumption gives a -STATIONER a plea to impugn any act done by A. or B., and parade it -before the public in an accommodating journal? His confined education -may preclude his knowing that a Lord Stanhope doffed his title and -removed his arms from all his carriages; and that Horace Walpole -remarked, that calling him "My Lord," was calling him _names_ in his -old age. Many have not assumed honours to which they were entitled. - -As the STATIONER, or the poor malice of the writer under this name, -has made a _charge_, I trust, Sir, in your _equity_, that you will -insert this explanation in your next number; and I also trust to read -in your most interesting and useful publication, for the future, more -that _concerns_ the curious world than that a family substituted on a -monument a _y_ for an _i_, and withheld altogether the naming of an -honour which might have appeared there. - - GORDON GYLL. - -7, Lower Seymour Street, Portman Square." - -(_b_) "As you have not published the letter I sent to your office in -answer to that of A STATIONER, and also to an LL.D., who, instead of -quietly confining himself to an opinion on a point of law, rushed into -_personalities_ quite unjustified by circumstances, for no letter was -addressed to him unless he be the STATIONER in disguise, who, in his -arrogance dared to say that I was ignorant of the first principles of -composition--I wish to know whether the LL.D. or STATIONER mean to -assert that by our improving certain monuments in Wraysbury Church -(which we, as a family acting in unison, were entitled to do without -the interference of anyone) we have falsified them. - -If that be intended, we consider the allegation _false and injurious_, -and unless we have an unequivocal denial, we shall refer the case to -our legal adviser. The entire object of the STATIONER was to insult our -family, and to impute motives, which was enough to incite to resentment. - -If he had politely said that we had caused one letter to be substituted -for another, which did not change the sound of the name, and had put -in a Christian name where the title of a civic honour was inscribed, -whereby the party was more _clearly_ identified--for Mr. Alderman A. -may be anybody--it had been well and harmless, and no such letter, -which he terms acrimonious, had been written. - -You gave, in a note to my letter, an opinion that the question was -_not touched_. Now, Sir, I wish to ask you or the LL.D. if any LAW is -violated, and if a family has a right to inscribe on a monument that A. -or B. were Deputy-Lieut., Magistrates, M.P., or High Sheriffs? and if -so, if a party is termed Alderman where his proper description would be -Lord Mayor, the family may not legally and judiciously alter it? - -We stand impeached with _breaking a law_, and by implication with, -_falsifying_ a lapidary inscription. We wish to know if _these -imputations_ are meant either by LL.D. or the STATIONER, for if they -are, let the case be tried before proper tribunal, or else let us have -a denial. If I do not hear from you I shall send the family lawyer to -meet the charge. - - GORDON GYLL. - -7, Lower Seymour Street, Portman Square." - -The above are reproduced exactly as printed in _Notes and Queries_. As -already observed (p. lii. _n._), Gyll did not carry out his threats. - - - FIRST PART - OF THE - GALATEA - - DIVIDED INTO SIX BOOKS - - WRITTEN BY - MIGUEL DE CERVANTES - - - DEDICATION - TO THE MOST ILLUSTRIOUS LORD, - ASCANIO COLONNA,[114] - ABBOT OF SANTA SOFIA. - - -Your Lordship's worth has prevailed with me so much as to take away -from me the fear I might rightly feel in venturing to offer you these -first-fruits of my poor genius. Moreover, considering that your August -Lordship came to Spain not only to illumine her best Universities, but -also to be the pole-star by which those who profess any real science -(especially those who practise that of poetry) may direct their -course, I have not wished to lose the opportunity of following this -guidance, since I know that in it and by it all find a safe haven and -a favourable reception. May your Lordship be gracious to my desire, -which I send in advance to give some kind of being to this my small -service; and if I do not deserve it for this, I may at least deserve it -for having followed for several years the conquering banners of that -Sun of warfare whom but yesterday Heaven took from before our eyes, but -not from the remembrance of those who strive to keep the remembrance -of things worthy of it, I mean your Lordship's most excellent father. -Adding to this the feeling of reverence produced in my mind by the -things that I, as in prophecy, have often heard Cardinal de Acquaviva -tell of your Lordship when I was his chamberlain at Rome; which now -are seen fulfilled, not only by me, but by all the world that delights -in your Lordship's virtue, Christian piety, munificence, and goodness, -whereby you give proof every day of the noble and illustrious race -from which you descend; which vies in antiquity with the early times -and leaders of Rome's greatness, and in virtues and heroic works with -equal virtue and more exalted deeds, as is proved to us by a thousand -true histories, full of the renowned exploits of the trunk and branches -of the royal house of Colonna, beneath whose power and position I -now place myself to shield myself against the murmurers who forgive -nothing; though, if your Lordship forgive this my boldness, I shall -have naught to fear, nor more to desire, save that our Lord may keep -your Lordship's most illustrious person with the increase of dignity -and position that we your servants all desire. - - Most Illustrious Lord, - Your humblest servant kisses your Lordship's hands, - MIGUEL DE CERVANTES SAAVEDRA. - - - FOOTNOTES: - -[114] (Son of Marc Antonio Colonna, Duke of Paliano, whose share in the -famous battle is set forth in P. Alberto Guglielmotti's _Marcantonio -Colonna alla bataglia di Lepanto_ (Firenze, 1862). Marc Antonio -Colonna, then Viceroy of Sicily, was summoned to Spain by Philip II. in -1584. He died suddenly at Medinaceli on August 1, 1584. The dedication -is a compliment paid to the son of the author's old commander. J. F.-K.) - - - - - PROLOGUE. - - -CURIOUS READERS, - -The occupation of writing eclogues, at a time when poetry is generally -regarded with such little favour, will not, I fancy, be counted as so -praiseworthy a pursuit, but that it may be necessary especially to -justify it to those who, following the varying tastes of their natural -inclination, esteem every taste differing from it as time and labour -lost. But since it concerns no man to justify himself to intellects -that shut themselves up within bounds so narrow, I desire only to -reply to those who, being free from passion, are moved, with greater -reason, not to admit any varieties of popular poetry, believing that -those who deal with it in this age are moved to publish their writings -on slight consideration, carried away by the force which passion for -their own compositions is wont to have on the authors. So far as this -is concerned, I can urge for my part the inclination I have always had -for poetry, and my years, which, having scarcely passed the bounds -of youth, seem to permit pursuits of the kind. Besides, it cannot be -denied that studies in this art (in former times so highly esteemed -and rightly) carry with them no inconsiderable advantages: such as -enriching the poet (as regards his native tongue); and acquiring a -mastery over the tricks of eloquence comprised in it, for enterprises -that are loftier and of greater import; and opening a way so that the -narrow souls that wish the copiousness of the Castilian tongue to be -checked by the conciseness of the ancient speech, may, in imitation -of him, understand that it offers a field open, easy, and spacious, -which they can freely traverse with ease and sweetness, with gravity -and eloquence, discovering the variety of acute, subtle, weighty, and -elevated thoughts, which, such is the fertility of Spanish men of -genius, Heaven's favourable influence has produced with such profit in -different parts, and every hour is producing in this happy age of ours, -whereof I can be a sure witness, for I know some men who, with justice -and without the impediment I suffer, could safely cover so dangerous -a course. But so common and so diverse are men's difficulties, and so -various their aims and actions, that some, in desire of glory, venture, -others, in fear of disgrace, do not dare, to publish that which, once -disclosed, must needs endure the uncertain, and well-nigh always -mistaken, judgment of the people. I have given proof of boldness in -publishing this book, not because I have any reason to be confident, -but because I could not determine which of these two difficulties was -the greater: whether that of the man who, wishing to communicate too -soon the talent he has received from Heaven, lightly ventures to offer -the fruits of his genius to his country and friends, or that of him -who, from pure scrupulousness, sloth, or dilatoriness, never quite -contented with what he does and imagines, counting as perfect only -that which he does not attain, never makes up his mind to disclose and -communicate his writings. Hence, just as the daring and confidence of -the one might be condemned, by reason of the excessive license which -accompanies security; so, too, the mistrust and tardiness of the other -is vicious, since late or never does he by the fruits of his intellect -and study benefit those who expect and desire such aids and examples, -to make progress in their pursuits. Shunning these two difficulties, I -have not published this book before now, nor yet did I desire to keep -it back longer for myself alone, seeing that my intellect composed it -for more than for my pleasure alone. I know well that what is usually -condemned is that no one excels in point of the style which ought to be -maintained in it, for the prince of Latin poetry was blamed for having -reached a higher level in some of his eclogues more than in others; -and so I shall not have much fear that any one may condemn me for -having mingled philosophical discourses with some loving discourses of -shepherds, who rarely rise beyond treating of things of the field, and -that with their wonted simplicity. But when it is observed (as is done -several times in the course of the work) that many of the disguised -shepherds in it were shepherds only in dress, this objection falls to -the ground. The remaining objections that might be raised as regards -the invention and ordering may be palliated by the fixed intention of -him who reads, if he will do so with discretion, and by the wish of the -author, which was to please, doing in this what he could and actually -did, achieve; for even though the work in this part do not correspond -to his desire, he offers others, yet to come, of better taste and -greater art. - - - BY LUIS GÁLVEZ DE MONTALVO. - TO THE AUTHOR. - - SONNET. - - What time thy neck and shoulders thou didst place, - Submissive, 'neath the Saracenic yoke, - And didst uphold, with constancy unbroke - Amidst thy bonds, thy faith in God's own grace, - Heaven rejoiced, but earth was for a space, - Without thee, well-nigh widowed: desolate, - Filled with lament and sadness for thy state, - Was left the Muses' royal dwelling-place. - But since that, from amidst the heathen host, - Which kept thee close, thy manly soul and tongue - Thou didst unto thy native land restore, - Heaven itself of thy bright worth makes boast, - The world greets thy return with happy song, - And the lost Muses Spain receives once more. - - - BY DON LUIS DE VARGAS MANRIQUE. - SONNET. - - In thee the sovran gods their mighty power, - Mighty Cervantes, to the world declared. - Nature, the first of all, for thee prepared - Of her immortal gifts a lavish store: - Jove did his lightning on his servant pour, - The living word that moves the rocky wall: - That thou in purity of style mightst all - With ease excel, Diana gave her dower: - Mercury taught thee histories to weave: - The strength Mars gave thee that doth nerve thine arm: - Cupid and Venus all their loves bestowed: - 'Twas from Apollo that thou didst receive - Concerted song: from the Nine Sisters charm - And wisdom: shepherds from the woodland god. - - - BY LÓPEZ MALDONADO. - SONNET. - - Out from the sea they issue and return - Unto its bosom when their course is o'er, - As to the All-Mother they return once more, - The children who have left her long forlorn. - She is not lesser made whene'er they go, - Nor prouder when their presence they restore; - For she remaineth whole from shore to shore, - And with her waters aye her pools o'erflow. - Thou art the sea, oh Galatea fair! - The rivers are thy praises, the reward - Whereby thou winnest immortality. - The more thou givest to us, thou canst spare - The more; though all before thy feet have poured - Their tribute, yet thou canst not greater be. - - - - - GALATEA. - - - BOOK I. - - - What time unto my sad and mournful cry, - Unto the ill-tuned music of my lyre, - The hill and mead, the plain and stream reply - In bitter echo of my vain desire, - Then take thou, wind, that heedless hastenest by, - The plaints which from my breast, chilled with love's fire, - Issue in my despite, asking in vain - Succour from stream and hill, from mead and plain. - - The stream is swollen by the tears which flow - Forth from my wearied eyes: the flowery mead - Blooms with the brambles and the thorns that grow - Into my soul: the lofty hill doth heed - Nowise my sorrows; and the plain below - Of hearing is awearied: in my need - No solace, e'er so small, to assuage my ill - I find in stream or plain, in mead or hill. - - I thought the fire that sets the heart aflame, - Lit by the wingèd boy, the cunning net, - Within whose mesh he doth the gods entame, - The strangling noose, the arrow he doth whet - In frenzied wrath, would wound the peerless dame - As me they wound, who am her slave; and yet - No noose nor fire hath power against a heart - That is of marble made, nor net nor dart. - - But lo, 'tis I who burn within the blaze, - I waste away: before the net unseen - I tremble not: my neck I humbly place - Within the noose; and of his arrow keen - I have no fear: thus to this last disgrace - Have I been brought--so great my fall has been - That for my glory and my heart's desire - The dart and net I count, the noose and fire. - -Thus on the banks of the Tagus sang Elicio, a shepherd on whom nature -had lavished as many gifts as fortune and love had withheld; though -the course of time, that consumes and renews man's handiwork, had -brought him to such a pass, that he counted for happiness the endless -misfortunes in which he had found himself, and in which his desire -had placed him, for the incomparable beauty of the peerless Galatea, -a shepherdess born on those same banks. Although brought up in -pastoral and rustic exercises, yet was she of so lofty and excellent -an understanding, that gentle ladies, nurtured in royal palaces, and -accustomed to the refined manners of the Court, counted themselves -happy to approach her in discretion as in beauty, by reason of the many -noble gifts with which Heaven had adorned Galatea. She was loved and -desired with earnest passion by many shepherds and herdsmen, who tended -their herds by the banks of the Tagus: amongst whom the gay Elicio made -bold to love her, with a love as pure and honest, as the virtue and -modesty of Galatea allowed. It must not be thought of Galatea that she -despised Elicio, still less that she loved him: for, at times, almost -persuaded, as it were, and overcome by the many services of Elicio, she -with some modest favour would raise him to heaven; and, at other times, -without taking account of this, she would disdain him in such wise, -that the love-sick shepherd scarce knew his lot. The excellencies and -virtues of Elicio were not to be despised, nor were the beauty, grace, -and goodness of Galatea not to be loved. On the one hand, Galatea did -not wholly reject Elicio; on the other, Elicio could not, nor ought -he to, nor did he wish to, forget Galatea. It seemed to Galatea, that -since Elicio loved her with such regard to her honour, it would be too -great an ingratitude not to reward his modest thoughts with some modest -favour. Elicio fancied that since Galatea did not disdain his services, -his desires would have a happy issue; and, whenever these fancies -revived his hope, he found himself so happy and emboldened, that a -thousand times he wished to discover to Galatea what he kept concealed -with so much difficulty. But Galatea's discretion well knew from the -movements of his face what Elicio had in his mind; and she gave such an -expression to hers that the words of the love-sick shepherd froze in -his mouth, and he rested content with the mere pleasure of that first -step: for it seemed to him that he was wronging Galatea's modesty in -treating of things that might in some way have the semblance of not -being so modest, that modesty itself might take their form. With these -up and downs the shepherd passed his life so miserably that, at times, -he would have counted as gain the evil of losing her, if only he might -not feel the pain which it caused him not to win her. And so one day, -having set himself to consider his varied thoughts, in the midst of -a delightful meadow, invited by the solitude and by the murmur of a -delightful streamlet that ran through the plain, he took from his -wallet a polished rebeck (singing to the sound of which he was wont -to communicate his plaints to Heaven), and with a voice of exceeding -beauty sang the following verses: - - Amorous fancy, gently ride - On the breeze if thou wouldst show - That I only am thy guide, - Lest disdain should bring thee low, - Or contentment fill with pride. - Do thou choose a mean, if fate - Grants thee choice amidst thy plight, - Neither seek to flee delight - Nor yet strive to bar the gate - 'Gainst the woe of Love's dark night. - - If it be thy wish that I - Of my life the course should run, - Take it not in wrath: on high - Raise it not, where hope is none, - Whence it can but fall to die. - If presumption lead astray, - And so lofty be thine aim, - This at last thy course will stay:-- - Either thou wilt come to shame, - Or my heart thy debts will pay. - - Born therein, thy sinning lay - In thy birth; the guilt was thine, - Yet for thee the heart must pay. - If to keep thee I design, - 'Tis in vain, thou fleest away. - If thou stayest not thy flight, - Wherewith thou dost mount the skies - (Should but fate thy fortunes blight) - Thou wilt plunge in deep abyss - Thy repose and my delight. - - Who to fate, thou mayst declare, - Yields himself, does well: his spirit, - Spurring on to do and dare, - Not as folly but as merit - Will be counted everywhere. - To aspire so loftily, - Yearning thus to reach the goal, - Peerless glory 'tis to thee,-- - All the more when heart and soul - Do with the design agree. - - Thee to undeceive I seek, - For I understand the meaning: - 'Tis the humble and the meek, - Rather than the overweening, - Who of Love's delights can speak. - Greater beauty cannot be - Than the beauty thou desirest; - Thy excuse I fail to see, - How it comes that thou aspirest - Where is no equality. - - Fancy, if it hath desire - Something raised on high to view, - Looks and straightway doth retire, - So that none may deem it true - That the gaze doth thus aspire. - How much more doth Love arise - If with confidence united - Whence it draws its destinies. - But if once its hope be blighted, - Fading like a cloud it dies. - - Thou who lookest from afar - On the goal for which thou sighest, - Hopeless, yet unto thy star - True,--if on the way thou diest, - Diest knowing not thy care. - Naught there is that thou canst gain, - For, amidst this amorous strife, - Where the cause none may attain, - Dying is but honoured life, - And its chiefest glory pain. - -The enamoured Elicio would not so soon have ended his agreeable song, -had there not sounded on his right hand the voice of Erastro, who with -his herd of goats was coming towards the place where he was. Erastro -was a rustic herdsman; yet his rustic lot, out in the woods, did not so -far prevail with him as to forbid that Gentle Love should take entire -possession of his manly breast, making him love more than his life the -beauteous Galatea, to whom he did declare his plaints whenever occasion -presented itself to him. And though rustic, he was, like a true lover, -so discreet in things of love, that whenever he discoursed thereon, -it seemed that Love himself revealed them to him, and by his tongue -uttered them; yet withal (although they were heard by Galatea), they -were held of such account as things of jest are held. To Elicio the -rivalry of Erastro did not give pain, for he understood from the mind -of Galatea that it inclined her to loftier things--rather did he have -pity and envy for Erastro: pity in seeing that he did indeed love, and -that in a quarter where it was impossible to gather the fruit of his -desires; envy in that it seemed to him that perhaps his understanding -was not such as to give room for his soul to feel the flouts or favours -of Galatea in such a way that either the latter should overwhelm -him, or the former drive him mad. Erastro came accompanied by his -mastiffs, the faithful guardians of the simple sheep, which under their -protection were safe from the carnivorous teeth of the hungry wolves; -he made sport with them, and called them by their names, giving to each -the title that its disposition and spirit deserved. One he would call -Lion, another Hawk, one Sturdy and another Spot; and they, as if they -were endowed with understanding, came up to him and, by the movement of -their heads, expressed the pleasure which they felt at _his_ pleasure. -In such wise came Erastro to where he was amiably received by Elicio, -and even asked, allowing that he had not determined to spend the warm -season of the sultry noon-tide in any other place, since that place in -which they were was so fitted for it, whether it would be irksome to -him to spend it in his company. - -'With no one,' replied Erastro, 'could I pass it better than with -you, Elicio, unless indeed it were with her who is as stubborn to -my entreaties as she has proved herself a very oak to your unending -plaints.' - -Straightway the twain sat them down on the close-cropped grass, -allowing the herd to wander at will, blunting, with teeth that chew the -cud, the tender little shoots of the grassy plain. And as Erastro by -many plain tokens knew perfectly well that Elicio loved Galatea, and -that the merit of Elicio was of greater carat than his own, in token -that he recognised this truth, in the midst of his converse, among -other discourses addressed to him the following: - -'I know not, gay and enamoured Elicio, if the love I have for Galatea -has been the cause of giving you pain, and if it has, you must pardon -me, for I never thought to offend you, nor of Galatea did I seek aught -save to serve her. May evil madness or cruel rot consume and destroy -my frisky kids and my tender lambkins! when they leave the teats of -their dear mothers, may they not find in the green meadow aught to -sustain them save bitter colocynth and poisonous oleander, if I have -not striven a thousand times to put her from my memory, and if I have -not gone as many times more to the leeches and priests of the place, -that they might give me a cure for the anguish I suffer on her account! -Some of them bid me take all kinds of love-potions, others tell me to -commend myself to God, who cures everything, or that it is all madness. -Suffer me, good Elicio, to love her, for you can be sure that if you, -with your talents and admirable graces and discourses, do not soften -her, I shall scarce be able, with my simple ways, to move her to pity. -This favour I beg of you, by what I am indebted to your deserving: for, -even if you do not grant it me, it would be as impossible to cease -loving her, as to cause these waters to cease from giving moisture, or -the sun with his combed tresses from giving us light.' - -Elicio could not refrain from laughing at Erastro's discourse, and at -the courtesy with which he begged of him permission to love Galatea; -and thus he replied to him: 'It does not pain me indeed, Erastro, that -you love Galatea; it pains me much to know from her disposition, that -your truthful discourses and sincere words will be of little avail with -her. May God give you as fair success in your desires as the sincerity -of your thoughts deserve! and henceforward cease not on my account to -love Galatea; for I am not of so mean a disposition that, if fortune -fail me, I rejoice that others should not attain her. But I pray you, -by what you owe to the good-will I show you, that you should not deny -me your converse and friendship, since of mine you can be as sure as I -have declared to you. Let our herds go united, since our thoughts go in -unison. You to the sound of your pipe will declare the pleasure or the -pain which Galatea's joyous or sorrowful countenance shall cause you, -I to the sound of my rebeck, in the silence of the stilly night, or in -the heat of the glowing noon-tide, in the cool shade of the green trees -by which this bank of ours is made so fair, will help you to carry the -heavy load of your trouble, proclaiming mine to Heaven. And in token of -our good intent and true friendship, while the shadows of these trees -grow longer, and the sun is declining towards the west, let us tune our -instruments and make a beginning of the practice which henceforth we -are to follow.' - -Erastro did not need asking, but with signs of supreme content at -seeing himself in such friendship with Elicio, drew forth his pipe, and -Elicio his rebeck: and, one beginning, and the other replying, they -sang what follows: - -ELICIO. - Ungrateful Love, thy servant thou didst place - In sweet, caressing, peaceful bonds the day - When first I saw the golden hair and face - Of that fair sun that dimmed the sun's own ray. - Straightway I came to drink with eager gaze - Love's cruel bliss, which, like a serpent, lay - Within the ruddy tresses; for 'twas there - I saw the sun, amid the clustered hair. - -ERASTRO. - I stood amazed, and filled with rapturous flame, - Voiceless was I like to a flinty rock, - When Galatea's grace and beauty came, - In all their loveliness my sight to mock. - On my left side stood Love (ah bitter shame!), - My love-lorn breast sustained his arrow's shock, - A gate was opened in me by his dart - Whereby the maid might come and steal my heart. - -ELICIO. - His breast, who, wretched, follows in thy train, - Love, by what miracle dost open wide? - What glory from the wound doth he attain, - The wound that thou didst deal him in his side? - Whence from the loss thou sendest, comes the gain? - And whence the joyous life when thou hast died? - The soul that hath endured these at thine hand - The cause, but not the ways can understand. - -ERASTRO. - So many faces in a broken glass - Are seen not, nor in glass formed with such art, - That if one looks therein, one sees to pass - A multitude portrayed in every part, - As are the cares on cares that spring, alas! - From that cruel care, which from my shattered heart - Goes not away, though conqueror in the strife, - Until it doth depart along with life. - -ELICIO. - The white snow of her cheek, the crimson rose - Which neither summer wastes nor winter's cold, - The sun's twain morning-stars, wherein repose - Soft Love doth find, the spot where time untold - Shall guard the voice, strong to subdue our woes, - As did hell's furies Orpheus' voice of old, - The many charms I saw, though blind I ween, - Have made me tinder for the fire unseen. - -ERASTRO. - Twain apples rosy-red no tree can bear - As those in Galatea's cheeks displayed; - Iris herself could boast no bow so fair - As the twain archèd eye-brows of the maid, - Two rays of light, two threads, beyond compare, - Of pearls 'twixt scarlet:--and if more be said-- - The peerless graces which in her I find - A cloud have made me to the amorous wind. - -ELICIO. - I burn nor am consumed, I live and die, - Far from myself am I and yet so near, - I sink to hell, I rise to Heaven on high, - One thing alone I hope, and yet I fear. - Gentle, yet fierce--for what I loathe I sigh, - To love thee racks my soul with torment drear, - Thus step by step already am I come, - Drawn in these different ways to my last doom. - -ERASTRO. - Elicio, mark! how gladly would I pour - At Galatea's feet all that she hath left - To me in life, if but she would restore - The heart and soul whereof I am bereft. - My herd I would bestow, and furthermore - My Spot and Hawk, if she would but the theft - Forego: but ah! the goddess on her throne - More than aught else would have my soul alone. - -ELICIO. - Erastro, mark! if once the heart on high - Be placed by fate, or chance, or what you will, - To pluck it down 'twere foolishness to try - By force, or art, or any human skill. - Rejoice that she is blessed; though thou canst die - In truth without her, 'tis my thought that still - No life on earth can be more full of bliss - Than death for such a noble cause as this. - -Erastro was already setting himself to follow on in his song when they -perceived, by a thickly wooded hillock which was at their back, no -slight clamour and sound; and, both rising to their feet to see what it -was, they saw a shepherd descending from the mountain, running at the -greatest speed in the world, with a naked knife in his hand, and the -hue of his countenance changed, and, coming after him, another shepherd -swift of foot, who in a few strides overtook the first, and seizing him -by the collar of his skin-coat, raised his arm in the air as high as he -could, and a sharp dagger which he carried unsheathed, and buried it -twice in his body, saying: - -'Receive, oh ill-starred Leonida, the life of this traitor, which I -offer up in vengeance of your death.' - -This happened with such rapidity that Elicio and Erastro had not the -opportunity to stop him; for they came up at the time when the stricken -shepherd was already giving out his last breath, struggling to utter -these few ill-formed words: - -'Would that you had allowed me, Lisandro, to satisfy Heaven with a -longer repentance for the wrong I did you, and had then taken from me -the life which, for the reason I have said, now departs from this flesh -ill-content.' - -And without being able to say more he closed his eyes in everlasting -night. By these words Elicio and Erastro fancied that for no small -cause had the other shepherd inflicted on him so cruel and violent a -death. And the better to inform themselves of the whole occurrence, -they would fain have inquired of the murderous shepherd; but he, with -retreating step, leaving the shepherd dead and the two wondering, -turned to go back into the hillock beyond. And when Elicio desired to -follow him, and to learn from him what he wished, they saw him come -again out of the wood, and, being a good space distant from them, in a -loud voice he said to them: - -'Pardon me, gentle shepherds, if I have not been gentle in having -wrought in your presence that which you have seen, for the just and -mortal rage which I had conceived against that traitor did not permit -a more moderate course on my part. What I counsel you is, that, if you -would not anger the Deity that dwells in high Heaven, you should not -offer the last rites and accustomed prayers for the traitorous soul of -that body which you have before you, nor give it burial, if here in -your country it is not the custom to give it to traitors.' - -And, saying this, he turned with all speed to go into the forest, with -so much haste as to take away from Elicio the hope of overtaking him, -even though he followed him. And so the twain with tender hearts turned -to perform the pious office, and to give burial, as best they could, to -the wretched body, which had so suddenly ended the course of its short -days. Erastro went to his hut which was not far away, and, bringing -sufficient implements, made a grave at the very spot where the body -was; and, bidding it the last farewell, they placed it therein. Not -without compassion for his hapless lot they returned to their herds, -and, collecting them again with some haste (for the sun was already -entering with all speed by the gates of the west), betook themselves -to their accustomed shelters, where neither the comfort they felt -therein, nor the little that his cares allowed him, could keep Elicio -from wondering what causes had moved the two shepherds to come to so -desperate a pass; and already he regretted that he had not followed the -murderous shepherd, and learnt from him, if possible, what he wished. -With this thought, and with the many that his love caused in him, after -leaving his herd in a place of safety, he went out from his hut, as -was his wont at other times, and by the light of the beauteous Diana, -who showed herself resplendent in the sky, he entered the denseness of -a dense wood beyond, seeking some solitary spot where, in the silence -of the night, with greater peace he might give rein to his amorous -fancies: for it is an assured fact that, to sad, fanciful hearts, there -is no greater joy than solitude, the awakener of sad or happy memories. -And thus going little by little, enjoying a gentle breeze which blew -against his face, full of most delicate scents, which from the scented -flowers wherewith the green earth was heaped it gently stole, as it -passed through them wrapped in the delicate air, he heard a voice as -of one who grievously complained, and checking for a while his breath -within him, so that the sound might not hinder him from hearing what it -was, he perceived that from some thickset bramble bushes, a little way -off, the mournful voice proceeded, and though interrupted by endless -sighs, he understood that it uttered these sad words: - -'Cowardly and craven arm, mortal enemy of that which you owe to -yourself, look, naught now remains on which to take vengeance, save -yourself! What does it profit you to prolong the life I hold in so -great abhorrence? If you think that our ill is of those that time is -wont to heal, you live deceived, for there is nothing more remote from -cure than our misfortune: seeing that she who might have made mine -pleasant, had a life so short that, in the green years of her joyous -youth, she offered it to the blood-thirsty knife, that it might take -it from her, through the treason of the wicked Carino. He to-day, -by losing his own, will have in part appeased that blessed soul of -Leonida, if, in the heavenly region where she dwells, she can cherish -desire for any vengeance. Ah, Carino, Carino! I beseech the high -Heavens, if by them just prayers are heard, not to heed the plea, if -any you offer, for the treachery you have done me, and to suffer that -your body may lack burial, even as your soul lacked mercy. And you, -fair and hapless Leonida, receive, in token of the love I bore you in -life, the tears I shed at your death; and put it not down to lack of -feeling that I do not end my life, with all I feel at your death: for a -grief that should end so soon would be a scant return for what I ought -and wish to feel. You will see, if you take account of things here, how -this wretched body will one day be consumed by grief, little by little, -for its greater grief and suffering: even as powder, moist and kindled, -which, without making a noise, or raising a flame on high, is consumed -in itself, without leaving of itself aught save the traces of consumed -ashes. It grieves me as much as it can grieve me, oh soul of my soul, -seeing that I could not enjoy you in life, that in death I cannot -perform for you the last rites and honours which befitted your goodness -and virtue; but I promise to you, and swear, for the short time--and it -will be very short--that this impassioned soul of mine shall rule the -heavy burden of this wretched body, and my weary voice have breath to -form it, not to treat aught else in my sad and bitter songs save your -praises and deserts.' - -At this point the voice ceased, from the sound of which Elicio clearly -perceived that it was the murderous shepherd; whereat he was much -rejoiced, because it seemed to him that he was in a position to learn -from him what he desired. And, wishing to approach more closely, he -needs must stop again, for it seemed to him that the shepherd was -tuning a rebeck, and he wished first to hear if he should say anything -to its sound. And he did not wait long before he heard him, with gentle -and tuneful voice, singing after this wise: - -LISANDRO. - Blest soul, that from the veil - Of human life below - - Free to the realms above didst, deathless, wing, - Leaving as in a jail - Of misery and woe - This life of mine which yet to thee did cling! - The bright light of the spring, - When thou art gone is dead, - And beaten to the ground - The hope I thought to found - On that firm seat where joy its radiance shed. - Alas! when thou wert gone, - My life died too: naught lived save grief alone. - - Death claimed thee for his prey, - He revelled in his prize, - Thy loveliness beyond compare he marred; - He came to take away - The light of these mine eyes - Which gazed on thee and did their riches hoard. - Swiftly beneath his sword, - Like wax in summer's sun - Or cloud before the wind, - The fancies of my mind - Which sprang from glorious Love have been undone. - The stone above thy tomb - Shuts in my fortune and declares my doom. - - How could thy brother speed - His cruel, ruthless hand - In hot revengeful purpose 'gainst thy heart? - How came the wicked deed - To tear thee from the land - And set thee from thy mortal veil apart? - Why sought he with his dart - Two lovers thus to sever? - Our love had had no end, - Our pathway would we wend - In holy wedlock hand in hand for ever. - Command why didst thou give, - Cruel, scornful hand! that dying I should live? - - My hapless soul shall spend - The days, the months, the years, - In sad laments that ne'er shall reach their close. - 'Midst joys that have no end - Thy soul shall know no fears - Of stubborn time--forgot for aye thy woes; - Secure in thy repose, - The bliss thou shalt behold - That thy good life hath won - Which ne'er shall be undone: - Him that so loved thee in remembrance hold, - If unto thee be given - To keep remembrance of the earth in Heaven. - - Blest, lovely soul above! - How foolish have I been - To ask that thou shouldst mind thee of thy swain; - Who gave thee all his love. - Eternally, I ween, - Shall I, if thou art kind, thus feel my pain. - 'Twere better for my gain - That I should be forgot, - That woe should waste away - The life that yet doth stay, - That I should perish 'neath my cruel lot, - Since in my bitter grief - Death's ill I count not ill, but sweet relief. - - Amidst the holy choir, - Amongst the sainted dead, - Dear soul! enjoy the wealth of Heaven's delight, - That fears nor time nor fire; - The mercies that are shed - On all who flee not from the path of right. - I hope to reach that height, - To dwell with thee in bliss, - Amidst eternal spring, - If to thy steps I cling - And know no dread nor yet the pathway miss. - Oh lead me to this goal! - For such a deed as this befits thy soul. - - And then, blest souls that dwell in Heaven, behold - The good that I desire, - Enlarge the wings of this my good desire. - -Here ceased the voice, but not the sighs of the hapless swain who had -sung, and both served to increase in Elicio the desire to know who -he was. And bursting through the thorny brambles so as to reach more -quickly the spot whence the voice proceeded, he came to a little meadow -which, in the fashion of a theatre, was girt all round with very dense -and tangled shrubs; and there he saw a shepherd who was standing in an -attitude of great vigour, with his right foot advanced and his left -behind, his right arm raised in the manner of one hoping to make a -mighty throw. And such was the truth, for at the noise which Elicio -had made in bursting through the bushes, he, thinking it was some -wild beast (against which the woodland shepherds were forced to defend -themselves), had placed himself in a position to hurl at him a weighty -stone he was holding in his hand. Elicio, perceiving his intent by his -posture, before he could accomplish it, said to him: 'Calm your bosom, -hapless shepherd, for he who comes hither, brings a bosom ready for all -you might ask of it; desire to learn your fortune has made him break in -upon your tears, and disturb the solace which might attend upon you in -solitude.' - -With these gentle and courteous words of Elicio the shepherd was -calmed, and with no less gentleness replied to him, saying: 'I -gratefully acknowledge your kind offer, whoever you be, courteous -shepherd; but, as for fortune, if you desire to learn mine who never -had any, you will scarce be able to have your wish.' 'You speak true,' -answered Elicio, 'since from the words and plaints I this night have -heard from you, you clearly show the little or none that you have. But -you will no less satisfy my desire by telling me your troubles than by -making known to me your joys. May fortune give you these in what you -desire, so that you do not deny me what I beg of you, if indeed your -not knowing me do not prevent it; although I would have you know, so -as to reassure and move you, that I have not a soul so happy as not to -feel as much as it should the miseries you would recount to me. This I -tell you, for I know that nothing is more wasted, nay thrown away, than -for an unhappy man to recount his woes to one whose heart is brimful -with joys.' 'Your kindly words,' answered the shepherd, 'compel me to -satisfy you in what you ask me, not only that you may not fancy that -from a mean and craven soul spring the complaints and lamentations -you say you have heard from me, but also that you may realise that -the feeling I show is but small as compared with the cause I have for -showing it.' - -Elicio thanked him heartily, and after some more courteous words had -passed between the two, Elicio giving proof that he was a true friend -of the woodland shepherd, the latter, recognising that they were not -feigned promises, granted in the end what Elicio asked. The twain sate -them down on the green grass, covered with the splendour of the fair -Diana, who could that night rival her brother in brightness, and the -woodland shepherd, with tokens of a tender grief, began to speak in -this wise: - -'On the banks of the Betis, a stream exceeding rich in waters, which -enriches great Vandalia, was born Lisandro (for that is my luckless -name), and of parents so noble that I would to Almighty God I had been -begotten in a lowlier station; for ofttimes nobility of lineage lends -wings and strength to the soul to raise the eyes to where a humble lot -would never dare to raise them, and from such boldness calamities are -often wont to spring such as you shall hear from me, if with attention -you will listen to me. In my village was also born a shepherdess, -whose name was Leonida, the sum of all the beauty which, as I fancy, -could be found in a great part of the world,--born of parents no less -noble and wealthy than her beauty and virtue deserved. Whence it came -to pass that, the parents of both being among the chief people of the -place, and the rule and government of the village being vested in -them, envy, the deadly enemy of a peaceful life, brought about strife -and mortal discord between them over some differences concerning the -administration of the village, in such a manner that the village was -divided into two factions; the one followed that of my parents, the -other that of Leonida's, with so deep-rooted a hatred and malice that -no human effort has been able to bring about peace between them. Fate -then decreed, as though to shut out every prospect of friendship, that -I should fall in love with the fair Leonida, daughter of Parmindro, -the head of the opposite faction; and my love was, indeed, so great -that, though I strove in countless ways to put it from my heart, they -all ended in my remaining yet more vanquished and enslaved. Before me -rose a mountain of difficulties, which hindered me from gaining the -end of my desire, such as Leonida's great worth, the inveterate enmity -of our parents, the few or no occasions which presented themselves to -me for disclosing my thoughts to her: and yet, whenever I turned the -eyes of fancy towards the rare beauty of Leonida, every difficulty was -made smooth, so that it seemed to me a little thing to break through -sharp points of adamant, that I might reach the goal of my loving and -honourable thoughts. Having then for many days battled with myself, -to see if I could turn my soul from a design so arduous, and seeing -that it was impossible, I set all my skill on considering how I might -give Leonida to understand the secret love in my breast. And even -as, in any matter, the beginnings are always difficult, so in those -that relate to love they are for the most exceedingly difficult, -until Love himself, when he wishes to show himself favourable, opens -the gates of the remedy, where they seem most closely barred. Thus -it appeared in my case, for my thought being guided by his, I came -to fancy that no better means presented themselves to my desire than -to make friends with the parents of Silvia, a shepherdess who was a -bosom friend of Leonida, and often they visited each other at their -houses, in company with their parents. Silvia had a kinsman called -Carino, a very close companion of Crisalvo, fair Leonida's brother, -whose boldness and harshness of manner had gained him the nickname -of cruel, and so, by all those who knew him, he was generally called -cruel Crisalvo; and in the same way they called Carino, Silvia's -kinsman and Crisalvo's companion, the cunning Carino, from his being -officious and sharp-witted. With him and with Silvia (for it seemed -to serve my purpose) by means of many presents and gifts I forged -a friendship, to outward seeming: at least on Silvia's side it was -stronger than I desired, for the presents and favours, which with pure -heart she bestowed on me, constrained by my unceasing services, were -by my fortune taken as instruments to place me in the misery where now -I see myself. Silvia was passing fair, and adorned with graces so many -that the hardness of Crisalvo's savage heart was moved to love her (but -this I did not learn save to my hurt); and many days later, after that -from long experience I was sure of Silvia's good-will, an opportunity -offering itself one day, in the tenderest words I could, I disclosed to -her the wound in my stricken breast, telling her that, though it was so -deep and dangerous, I did not feel it so much, only because I thought -that in her solicitude lay its cure. I informed her, too, of the -honourable goal to which my thoughts were tending, which was to unite -myself in lawful wedlock with the beauteous Leonida; and that, since -it was a cause so just and good, she must not disdain to take it under -her care. Finally, not to weary you, love furnished me with such words -to say to her, that she, being overcome by them and more by the pain -which she, like a clever woman, recognised from the signs of my face as -dwelling in my soul, determined to take charge of my cure, and to tell -Leonida what I felt for her, promising to do for me all that her power -and skill might achieve, even though such an undertaking was fraught -with difficulties for her, by reason of the great enmity she knew to -exist between our parents; though, on the other hand she thought that -it might put an end to their differences, if Leonida were to marry me. -Moved then by this good intention, and softened by the tears I shed, as -I have said before, she dared to intercede on behalf of my happiness, -and, discussing with herself how she would approach Leonida, she made -me write her a letter, which she offered to give her at the moment -she thought fitting. Her counsel seemed to be for my good, and that -same day I sent her a letter, which I have always known by heart, as -having been the beginning of the happiness I felt at the reply to it, -though it would be better not to remember happy things at a time so sad -as that in which I now find myself. Silvia received the letter, and -awaited the opportunity for placing it in Leonida's hands.' - -'Nay,' said Elicio, interrupting Lisandro's discourse, 'it is not right -that you should fail to repeat to me the letter you sent to Leonida, -for, seeing that it was the first, and that you were so deeply in love -at that time, it must undoubtedly be eloquent. And since you have told -me that you know it by heart, and of the pleasure you obtained from it, -do not now withhold it from me by not repeating it.' - -'You say well, my friend,' replied Lisandro, 'for I was then as deeply -in love and timid as now I am unhappy and despairing; and, on that -account, it seems to me that I did not succeed in uttering any eloquent -words, though it was sufficient success that Leonida should believe -those which were in the letter. Since you wish so much to hear them, it -ran as follows: - - LISANDRO TO LEONIDA. - -"So long as I have been able (though with very great grief to myself) -to resist with my own strength the amorous flame which for you, fair -Leonida, consumes me, fearful of the exalted worth which I recognise in -you, I have never had the boldness to discover to you the love I bear -you; but now that the virtue, which up till now has made me strong, is -consumed, it has become necessary for me to disclose the wound in my -breast, and thus, by writing to you, to make trial of the first and -last remedy in your power. What the first may be, you know, and to be -the last is in your hand, from which I hope for the pity that your -beauty promises, and my honourable desires merit. What they are, and -the goal to which they tend, you shall learn from Silvia, who will give -you this: and since she has been so bold, being who she is, as to bring -it to you, know that they are as honourable as is due to your merit".' - -The words of this letter did not seem bad to Elicio, and Lisandro, -continuing the story of his love, said: - -'Many days did not pass before this letter came into the fair hands -of Leonida, by means of the kindly hands of Silvia, my true friend. -In giving it, she told her such things that she largely assuaged the -rage and emotion which Leonida had felt at my letter, such as telling -her how good it would be if through our marriage the enmity of our -parents were to cease, and that an object so well meant should lead her -not to reject my desires; all the more as it should not be compatible -with her beauty to allow one who loved her as much as I to die, -without more consideration; adding to these other reasonings, which -Leonida recognised as just. But, so as not to show herself vanquished -in the first encounter, and won in the first advance, she did not -give to Silvia as pleasant a reply as she wished. But still, at the -intercession of Silvia, who forced her to it, she replied with this -letter which I shall now repeat to you: - - LEONIDA TO LISANDRO. - -"If I had thought, Lisandro, that your great daring had sprung from -my lack of modesty, I would have carried out on myself the punishment -that your fault deserves; but as what I know of myself makes me sure -on this point, I have come to the conclusion that your great boldness -has proceeded more from idle thoughts, than from thoughts of love; and -though they may be as you say, think not that you can move me to cure -them, as you did Silvia to believe them. I complain more of her for -having made me answer you, than of you who dared to write to me, for -silence had been fit answer to your folly. If you draw back from your -purpose, you will act wisely, for I would have you know that I deem my -honour of more account than your empty thoughts." - -This was Leonida's reply, which, together with the hopes that Silvia -gave me, though it seemed somewhat harsh, made me count myself the -happiest man on earth. Whilst these matters were passing between -us, Crisalvo did not neglect to woo Silvia with countless messages, -gifts and services; but so hard and severe was Crisalvo's disposition -that he could never move Silvia to grant him the smallest favour. -Whereat he was as desperate and impatient as a bull when speared and -vanquished. For the sake of his love he had formed a friendship with -the cunning Carino, Silvia's kinsman, though these two had first been -mortal enemies, for in a wrestling-bout, which on a great feast-day -the deftest swains of the place held before all the village, Carino -was vanquished by Crisalvo, and mauled: so that he conceived in his -heart undying hatred for Crisalvo, and no less was the hatred he felt -against another person, a brother of mine, for having thwarted him -in a love-affair, in which my brother carried off the fruit Carino -hoped for. This rancour and ill-will Carino kept secret till time -disclosed to him the opportunity when he might avenge himself on both -at once, in the cruellest way imaginable. I kept friends with him, -so that admission to Silvia's house might not be denied me; Crisalvo -adored him, so that he might further his designs with Silvia; and his -friendship was such that whenever Leonida came to Silvia's house, -Carino accompanied her: wherefore it seemed good to Silvia to tell -him, since he was my friend, of my love-affair with Leonida, which was -by this time prospering with such ardour and good fortune, through -Silvia's good offices, that we now awaited but the time and place to -cull the honourable fruit of our pure desires. On hearing of this, -Carino used me as an instrument to commit the greatest treason in -the world. For one day (feigning to be true to Crisalvo, and giving -him to understand that he rated his friendship higher than his -kinswoman's honour), he told him that the chief reason why Silvia did -not love or favour him, was that she was in love with me; he knew -it unmistakably, and our love-affair was going on so openly that if -he had not been blinded by his amorous passion he would by now have -perceived it from a thousand signs; and the more to assure himself of -the truth he was telling him, he bade him look to it henceforward, -for he would see clearly how Silvia without any restraint granted -me exceptional favours. At this news Crisalvo must have been quite -beside himself, as appeared from what followed therefrom. Henceforward -he employed spies to watch my dealings with Silvia; and as on many -occasions I sought to be alone with her, in order to speak not of the -love he thought, but of things concerning mine, these were reported -to Crisalvo, together with other favours prompted by pure friendship, -which Silvia showed me at every step. Whereat Crisalvo came to so -desperate a pass, that many times he sought to kill me, though I did -not think it was for such a cause, but on account of the long-standing -enmity of our parents. But as he was Leonida's brother, I was more -concerned to guard myself than to harm him, thinking it certain that -if I married his sister our enmities would have an end. Of this he -was quite ignorant, thinking rather that, because I was his enemy, I -had sought to make love to Silvia, and not because I was really fond -of her; and this increased his anger and resentment to such a degree -that it robbed him of reason, though he had so little that little was -needed to destroy it. And this evil thought wrought so strongly in -him, that he came to loath Silvia as much as he had loved her, merely -because she favoured me, not with the good-will he thought, but as -Carino told him. And so, in whatever circle or assembly he was, he -spoke ill of Silvia, giving her dishonourable names and epithets. -But as all knew his ugly character and Silvia's goodness, they lent -little or no belief to his words. Meanwhile Silvia had arranged with -Leonida that we two should be married, and, in order that it might be -done with more safety to ourselves, that it would be well for Leonida, -one day when she came with Carino to her house, not to return that -night to that of her parents, but to go thence in Carino's company to -a village half a league distant from ours, where some rich kinsmen -of mine lived, in whose house we could with greater peace effect our -designs. For if Leonida's parents were not pleased at the issue, it -would at least be easier, when she was away from them, to come to -terms. This resolve having been taken, Carino was informed of it, and, -displaying the greatest spirit, offered to Silvia to escort Leonida -to the other village as she desired. The services I did to Carino for -the good-will he showed, the promises I uttered to him, the embraces -I gave him, would methinks have sufficed to extinguish in a heart of -steel any evil purpose it might cherish against me. But that traitor -of a Carino, casting behind him my words, deeds and promises, without -regarding what he owed himself, planned the treason which now you -shall hear. Having informed himself of Leonida's wish, and seeing -that it agreed with what Silvia had told him, he planned that on the -first night which from the appearance of the day promised to be dark, -Leonida's departure should be effected, offering once more to maintain -all possible secrecy and loyalty. After making this agreement which -you have heard, he went off to Crisalvo, as I have since learnt, and -told him that his kinswoman Silvia had gone so far in her love-affair -with me, that I had determined on a certain night to steal her from -her parents' house, and take her to another village where my kinsmen -dwelt. There an opportunity offered itself to avenge his feelings on -both, on Silvia for the small account she had made of his services, on -me for our long-standing enmity, and for the injury I had done him in -robbing him of Silvia, since she was leaving him on my account alone. -Carino knew how to exaggerate to him, and to say what he wanted, in -such a way as, even with less effort, would have moved to any evil -purpose a heart not so cruel as his. The day being now arrived which -I thought was to be the day of my greatest bliss, after having told -Carino not what he actually did do, but what he was to do, I went off -to the other village to give orders how to receive Leonida. And to -leave her entrusted to Carino was like leaving the innocent lamb in -the power of the hungry wolves, or the gentle dove in the claws of the -fierce hawk, who tears it to pieces. Ah, friend! when I come to this -point with my imagination, I know not how I have strength to sustain -life, nor thought to think of it, much more tongue to tell it! Ah, -ill-advised Lisandro! How did you not know Carino's duplicity? Yet, -who would not have trusted his words, since he risked so little in -proving them true by deeds! Ah, ill-starred Leonida! how little did -I know how to enjoy the favour you did me, in choosing me for your -own! Finally, to end with the tragedy of my misfortune, you must know, -discreet shepherd, that on the night Carino was to take Leonida with -him to the village where I was expecting her, he summoned another -shepherd, called Libeo, who ought to have considered him an enemy, -though Carino concealed it beneath his wonted false dissimulation, and -asked him to accompany him that night, for he was resolved to carry off -a shepherdess, his sweetheart, to the village I have told you, where -he purposed to marry her. Libeo, a man of spirit and a lover himself, -readily offered him his company. Leonida bade farewell to Silvia with -close embraces and loving tears, an omen, as it were, that it was to -be the last farewell. The hapless maid must needs have thought then of -the treason she was committing against her parents; not of that Carino -was planning against her,--and how bad a return she was making for the -good opinion that was held about her in the village. But, passing over -all these thoughts, constrained by the loving thought that vanquished -her, she entrusted herself to the care of Carino, who was to conduct -her to where I awaited her. How often do I call to mind when I reach -this point, what I dreamed the day I would have counted fortunate, -had the number of my days ended thereon! I remember that, leaving the -village a little while before the sun withdrew his rays from our -horizon, I sate me down at the foot of a tall ash tree on the very -road by which Leonida was to come, waiting till night should close in -a little more to further my purpose and to receive her, and without -knowing how or wishing it, I fell asleep. Scarce had I yielded my eyes -to slumber when, methought, the tree against which I leaned, bending -before the fury of a fierce wind that was blowing, tearing its deep -roots out of the earth, fell upon my body, and attempting to get away -from the heavy weight, I rolled from side to side. While in this plight -methought I saw a white hind beside me, which I earnestly implored to -lift, as well as it could, the heavy burden from my shoulders, and when -moved with compassion, it was about to do it, at the same moment a -fierce lion sprang from the thicket, and seizing it in his sharp claws, -marched off with it through the forest. After I had escaped with great -toil from the heavy burden, I went to look for it in the mountain, -and found it torn and wounded in a thousand places. Whereat I felt so -much grief that my soul was wrung from me merely by reason of the pity -it had shown at my plight: and thus I began to weep in my dreams, so -that the tears themselves awoke me, and finding my cheeks bathed with -sorrow I was beside myself, pondering on what I had dreamed; but in the -joy I hoped to have in seeing my Leonida, I failed to see then that -fortune was showing me in dreams what was to happen in a short time -to me awake. At the moment when I awoke night had just closed in with -such darkness, with such terrible thunder and lightning as furthered -the perpetration of the cruel deed which that night was perpetrated. -As Carino left Silvia's house with Leonida, he entrusted her to -Libeo, telling him to go with her by the road to the village I have -mentioned, and though Leonida was perturbed at seeing Libeo, Carino -assured her that Libeo was no less a friend of mine than he was, and -that in security she could go with him slowly whilst he went forward -to give me tidings of her approach. The guileless maid, being after -all in love, believed the words of the treacherous Carino, and with -less mistrust than was fitting, guided by the courteous Libeo, advanced -her timid steps, which were to be the last of her life, thinking they -led her to the height of her bliss. Carino went on before the two, as -I have already told you, and gave information of what was happening -to Crisalvo, who with four of his kinsmen was in ambush on the very -road by which they were to pass, this being wholly shut in by forest -on either side. He told them how Silvia was coming and I was the only -one with her, and that they should rejoice at the good opportunity -fate put in their hands to avenge the wrong we two had done him, and -that he should be the first to prove the edge of his knife on Silvia, -though she was a kinswoman of his. Immediately the five cruel butchers -prepared to stain themselves in the innocent blood of the pair who -came along the road all unsuspicious of such treason; when they reached -the place where the ambush was, at once the traitorous murderers were -on them, and surrounded them. Crisalvo came up to Leonida, thinking -she was Silvia, and with insulting and excited words, in the hellish -rage which mastered him, left her stretched on the ground with six -mortal wounds, whilst Libeo weltered on the earth with countless stabs -dealt by the other four, who thought they were inflicting them on me. -When Carino saw how well his traitorous intent had turned out, without -awaiting words, he went away, and the five traitors, fully satisfied -as if they had done some notable exploit, returned to their village. -Crisalvo went to Silvia's house himself to give her parents the news of -what he had done, so as to increase their grief and pain, telling them -to go and bury their daughter Silvia, whose life he had taken because -she had set more store on the cold esteem of Lisandro his enemy, than -on the unremitting attentions shown by him. Silvia, who heard what -Crisalvo was saying,--her soul telling her what had happened, told him -that she was alive, and free too from all that he had accused her of; -and that he should be sure he had not killed one whose death would -grieve him more than the loss of his own life. And with this she told -him that his sister Leonida had that night left her house in unwonted -apparel. Crisalvo was amazed to see Silvia alive, thinking for sure -that he had left her dead, and being suddenly seized with great fear, -immediately hastened to his house, and not finding his sister there, -returned alone in the greatest consternation and frenzy to see who it -was he had killed, since Silvia was alive. Whilst all this was going -on, I was awaiting Carino and Leonida with strange anxiety; and as it -seemed to me that by this time they were later than they should be, I -wished to go and meet them, or learn if by any accident they had been -detained that night. I had not gone far along the road when I heard -a piteous voice saying: "Oh sovereign Maker of Heaven, withhold the -hand of thy justice and open that of thy mercy in order to show mercy -to this soul, which soon shall give account to thee of the offences -it has committed against thee! Ah Lisandro, Lisandro! surely Carino's -friendship will yet cost you your life, since it cannot be that grief -for my having lost mine for your sake will put an end to it! Ah, -cruel brother, can it be that without hearing my excuses you desired -to inflict on me so soon the punishment of my error?" When I heard -these words, I at once recognised from the voice and from them that it -was Leonida who uttered them, and--an augury of my misfortune--with -feelings in a turmoil, I set to groping where Leonida was weltering in -her own blood; and, having at once recognised her, I let myself fall -on her wounded body, and with the greatest grief possible, said to -her: "What woe is this, my joy, my soul? what cruel hand was it that -did not respect so much beauty?" At these words I was recognised by -Leonida; and raising her weary arms with much effort, she threw them -round my neck, and, pressing with all her strength, she joined her -mouth to mine, and, with weak and broken utterance, spoke but these -words to me: "My brother has killed me, Carino ... betrayed, Libeo is -without life, and may God give you yours, Lisandro mine, for long and -happy years, and may he grant that I enjoy in another life the peace -denied me here;" and, joining her mouth closer to mine, she pressed her -lips together to give me her first and last kiss; and, as she opened -them, her soul went from her, and she lay dead in my arms. When I -perceived it, I abandoned myself to grief over her body, and remained -senseless; and if, instead of being alive, I had been dead, whoever saw -us in that plight had called to mind the hapless plight of Pyramus and -Thisbe. But on coming to myself, I had opened my mouth to fill the air -with cries and sobs, when I perceived someone coming with hurried steps -to where I was; and, when he was near, though the night was dark, the -eyes of my soul gave me assurance that he who came there was Crisalvo, -as was the truth. He was coming back to convince himself whether -perchance it was his sister Leonida he had killed. When I recognised -him, before he could guard himself against me, I came upon him like a -raging lion; and, giving him two blows, I brought him to the ground. -Before he ceased to breathe, I dragged him to where Leonida was, and, -placing in her dead hand the dagger her brother wore--the same with -which she had been killed--I guided it and plunged it thrice through -his heart. And mine being somewhat consoled by Crisalvo's death, -without further delay I took upon my shoulders Leonida's body, and -bore it to the village where my kinsmen lived. Telling them what had -happened, I asked them to give it honourable burial, and immediately -determined to take on Carino the same vengeance as on Crisalvo; but, -since he has kept away from our village, it has been delayed until -to-day, when I found him on the skirts of this wood, after going about -in search of him for six months. Now he has come to the end his treason -deserved; and none now is left on whom to wreak vengeance, unless it be -the life I endure so much against my will. This, shepherd, is the cause -whence proceed the laments you have heard from me. If it seems to you -sufficient to cause yet a deeper grief, I leave to your good judgment -to determine!' - -Therewith he ended his discourse, and set to weeping so copiously that -Elicio could not refrain from keeping him company therein; but after -they had for a long while eased with gentle sighs, the one the pain he -suffered, the other the compassion he felt thereat, Elicio began to -console Lisandro with the best arguments he knew, though his misfortune -was as far beyond consolation as he had seen from its issue. Amongst -other things he said to him, the one which gave Lisandro most solace -was to tell him that in misfortunes beyond remedy, the best remedy was -to hope for none; and, since one might believe from Leonida's purity -and noble disposition, according to his account, that she was enjoying -a life of bliss, he should rather rejoice at the happiness she had -gained, than grieve for that which she had lost. Whereto Lisandro -replied: - -'I know full well, my friend, that your arguments have power to make -me believe they are true; but not that they have--nor will all the -arguments in the world have--power to give me any consolation. With -Leonida's death began my evil fortune, which will end when I behold her -again; and since this cannot be without I die, the man who should help -me to attain death will I count the greatest friend of my life!' - -Elicio did not wish to give him more sorrow with his words of -solace, since he did not regard them as such; only he asked him to -come with him to his hut, where he might stay as long as it pleased -him, offering him his friendship in all wherein he might be able to -serve him. Lisandro thanked him as heartily as possible; and though -he was unwilling to consent to go with Elicio, yet he had to do so, -constrained by his repeated asking. And so the two arose, and came to -Elicio's cabin, where they rested for the little that remained of the -night. Now when the white dawn was leaving the couch of her jealous -husband, and beginning to give signs of the coming day, Erastro arose -and began to put in order Elicio's herd and his own to lead them to -the accustomed pasture. Elicio invited Lisandro to come with him; and -so, when the three shepherds came with their gentle flock of sheep -through a ravine below, on ascending an incline, they heard the sound -of a gentle pipe, which was straightway recognized by the two enamoured -swains, Elicio and Erastro, for it was Galatea who was playing it. -And it was not long before some sheep began to show themselves over -the crest of the hill, and immediately behind them Galatea, whose -beauty was such that it were better to leave it to speak for itself, -since words fail to enhance it. She came dressed like a girl of the -mountains, with her long hair free to the wind, whereof the sun himself -appeared to be envious, for, smiting it with his rays, he sought to rob -it of lustre if he could; but that which came from the glimmer of it -seemed another new sun. Erastro was beside himself looking at her, and -Elicio could not keep his eyes from gazing at her. When Galatea saw the -flock of Elicio and Erastro join hers, she showed that she did not wish -that day to keep them company, and called to the pet lamb of her flock, -which the rest followed, and directed it to another spot, different -from that for which the shepherds were making. Elicio, seeing what -Galatea was doing, and being unable to endure such open contempt, came -to where the shepherdess was and said to her: - -'Permit your flock, fair Galatea, to come with ours, and, if you do not -like our company, choose that which will please you better, for your -sheep will not, through your absence, lack good pasturage, since I, -who was born to serve you, will take more care of them than of my own. -Do not seek to disdain me so openly, for the pure affection I cherish -towards you does not deserve it. According to the way you were taking, -you were making for the spring of slates, but, now you have seen me, -you wish to change your road; and, if this is as I think, tell me where -you wish, to-day and always, to graze your herd, for I swear to you -never to take mine there.' - -'I assure you, Elicio,' replied Galatea, 'that it was not to shun your -company or that of Erastro that I have changed the way you think I was -taking, for my intention is to spend the noon-tide of to-day by the -stream of palms, in the company of my friend Florisa, who is awaiting -me there, for as early as yesterday we two agreed to graze our flocks -there to-day. As I came along, heedlessly playing my pipe, the pet lamb -took the road of slates, as more accustomed for it. For the affection -you bear me and the offers you make me I thank you, and count it no -small thing that I have justified myself against your suspicion.' - -'Ah, Galatea!' replied Elicio, 'how well you invent what seems good -to you, though you have so little need to use stratagem with me, for -after all I do not seek to wish more than you wish! Now, whether you -go to the stream of palms, to the wood of council, or to the spring of -slates, be assured that you cannot go alone, for my soul accompanies -you always; and, if you do not see it, it is because you do not wish to -see it, so that you may not be obliged to heal it.' - -'Until now,' said Galatea, 'I have yet to see my first soul, and so I -am not to blame if I have healed none.' - -'I do not know how you can say that, fair Galatea,' replied Elicio, -'since you see them to wound them, and not to heal them.' - -'You accuse me falsely,' replied Galatea, 'in saying that I have -wounded anyone without arms, seeing that these are not granted to -women.' - -'Ah, discreet Galatea,' said Elicio, 'how you jest at what you perceive -of my soul, which you have invisibly wounded, and with no other arms -than those of your beauty! I do not so much complain of the wrong you -have done me, as that you hold it in little account.' - -'I would hold myself in less account, if I held it in more,' replied -Galatea. - -At this moment Erastro came up, and, seeing that Galatea was going off -and leaving them, said to her: - -'Where are you going, whom do you flee, fair Galatea? If you part from -us who adore you, who shall hope for your company? Ah fair foe! how -heedlessly you go your way, triumphing over our affections! May Heaven -destroy the warm affection I bear you, if I do not long to see you in -love with some one who may value your plaints in the same degree as you -value mine! Do you laugh at what I say, Galatea? Then I weep at what -you do.' - -Galatea could not answer Erastro, for she was going away, guiding her -flock towards the stream of palms; and bowing her head from afar in -token of farewell, she left them. When she saw herself alone, whilst -she was making for the spot where her friend Florisa thought she would -be, with the exquisite voice Heaven had pleased to give her, she went -along singing this sonnet: - -GALATEA. - Away with noose and frost, with dart and fire, - Whereby to strangle, freeze, or wound or burn, - Love doth essay! 'Tis vain: my soul doth yearn - For no such knot, nor doth such flame desire. - Let each bind, freeze, kill, press, consume in ire, - 'Gainst any other will its anger turn, - But mine shall snow or net or arrow spurn, - To hold me in its heat let none aspire. - My chaste intent will chill the burning flame, - The knot I shall break through by force or art, - My glowing zeal will melt away the snows, - The arrow shall fall blunted by my shame, - And thus nor noose nor fire, nor frost nor dart, - Shall make me fear, safe in secure repose. - -With juster cause might beasts stand still, trees move and stones -unite on hearing Galatea's gentle song and sweet harmony than when to -Orpheus' lute, Apollo's lyre, or Amphion's music the walls of Troy -and Thebes of their own accord set themselves in the ground without -any craftsman laying hand thereon, and the sisters, dark dwellers in -deepest chaos, grew gentle at the exquisite voice of the unheeding -lover. Galatea finished her song, and at the moment came to where -Florisa was, by whom she was received with joyous mien, as being her -true friend, and she to whom Galatea was wont to tell her thoughts. -After the two had allowed their flocks to go at their will to graze on -the green grass, they determined, invited by the clearness of the water -of a stream flowing by, to wash their beauteous faces; for, to enhance -their beauty, they had no need of the vain and irksome arts whereby -those ladies in great cities who think themselves most beautiful, -torture theirs. They remained as beautiful after washing as before, -save that, through having rubbed their faces with their hands, their -cheeks remained aflame and blushing-red, so that an indescribable -beauty made them yet more fair, and especially Galatea. In her were -seen united the three Graces whom the Greeks of old depicted naked to -show (amongst other purposes) that they were mistresses of beauty. -Straightway they began to gather divers flowers from the green meadow -with intent to make each a garland wherewith to bind up the disordered -tresses that flowed freely over their shoulders. In this task the two -beauteous shepherdesses were engaged when of a sudden they saw, by -the stream below, a shepherdess coming of gentle grace and bearing, -whereat they wondered not a little, for it seemed to them that she -was not a shepherdess of their village nor of the others near by: -wherefore they looked at her with more attention and saw that she -was coming gradually to where they were; and though they were quite -near, she came so absorbed and lost in thought that she never saw them -until they chose to show themselves. From time to time she stopped, -and raising her eyes to Heaven, uttered sighs so piteous that they -seemed to be torn from her innermost soul; at the same time she wrung -her white hands, and tears like liquid pearls she let fall down her -cheeks. From the extremes of grief the shepherdess displayed Galatea -and Florisa perceived that her soul was filled with some inward grief, -and to see on what her feelings were set, both hid themselves amongst -some close-grown myrtles, and thence watched with curious gaze what -the shepherdess was doing. She came to the brink of the stream, and -with steadfast gaze stopped to watch the water running by; and letting -herself fall on its bank, as one wearied, she hollowed one of her fair -hands, and therein took up of the clear water, wherewith she bathed her -moist eyes, saying with voice low and enfeebled: - -'Ah water clear and cool, how little avails your coldness to temper the -fire I feel in my soul! Vain will it be to hope from you--or indeed -from all the waters the mighty ocean holds--the remedy I need; for if -all were applied to the glowing passion that consumes me, you would -produce the same effect as do a few drops on the glowing forge which -but increase the flame the more. Ah, sad eyes, cause of my ruin! to how -lofty a height did I raise you for so great a fall! Ah fortune, enemy -of my repose! with what haste didst thou hurl me from the pinnacle of -my joy to the abyss of misery wherein I am! Ah cruel sister! how came -it that Artidoro's meek and loving presence did not appease the anger -of your breast devoid of love? What words could he say to you that you -should give him so harsh and cruel a reply? It seems clear, sister, -that you did not esteem him as much as I; for, if it were so, you would -in truth have shown as much meekness as he obedience to you.' - -All that the shepherdess said she mingled with such tears, that no -heart could listen to her and not be moved to compassion; and after -she had calmed her sorrowing breast for a while, to the sound of the -water gently flowing by, she sang with sweet and dainty voice this -gloss, adapting to her purpose an ancient verse: - - _Hope hath fled and will not stay - One thought only brings delight: - Time that passes swift of flight - Soon my life will take away._ - - Two things, all the world among, - Help the lover to attain - All that doth to Love belong: - E'en desire the good to gain, - Hope that makes the coward strong. - Both within my bosom lay. - No, 'twas in my stricken soul - That they lurked to take away - My desire to reach the goal. - _Hope hath fled and will not stay._ - - Though desire should cease to be, - What time hope is on the wane, - Yet 'tis not the same in me. - My desire doth wax amain, - Though my hope away doth flee. - 'Gainst the wounds my soul that blight - I can take nor care nor thought, - Martyr to my hapless plight, - In the school where Love hath taught, - _One thought only brings delight_. - - Scarce the blessing from on high - Had unto my fancy come, - When, as gently they passed by, - Heaven, fate, and bitter doom, - With it from my soul did fly. - Whoso for my grievous plight - Fain would mourn, let him strike sail, - Into the haven of delight - Glide more gently 'fore the gale - _Than Time that passes swift of flight_. - - Who that hath such woe as mine - Would not faint beneath his fate? - From such woes we may divine - Joy to be a featherweight, - Sorrow lead from deepest mine. - Though my fortune be not gay, - Though I falter to my knees, - Yet this blessing is my stay: - He who robbed me of my peace - _Soon my life will take away_. - -Soon the shepherdess ended her song, but not the tears which made it -more sad. Moved to compassion thereby, Galatea and Florisa came out -from where they lay concealed, and with loving and courteous words -greeted the sad shepherdess, saying to her among other things: - -'So may Heaven, fair shepherdess, show itself favourable to what you -would ask of it, and so may you obtain from it what you desire, if you -tell us (allowing that it be not displeasing to you), what fortune or -what destiny has brought you to this region, for, according to the -experience we have of it, we have never seen you on these banks. Now -that we have heard what you have just sung, gathering from it that -your heart has not the calm it needs, and by reason of the tears you -have shed, of which your lovely eyes gave witness, in the name of fair -courtesy we are bound to give you all the solace in our power; and if -your evil be of those that do not permit of consolation you will at -least perceive in us a good will to serve you.' - -'I know not, fair maidens,' replied the strange shepherdess, 'how I -shall be able to repay you save by silence for the courteous offers you -make me, unless by saying no more about it, and being grateful for it, -and valuing them as much as they deserve it, and by not withholding -from you what you wish to learn from me, although it would be better -for me to pass by in silence the circumstances of my misfortunes, than -to tell them and give you cause to count me immodest.' - -'Your countenance and the gentle bearing that Heaven has given you,' -replied Galatea, 'do not betoken an intellect so coarse as to make you -do a thing in telling which afterwards you must needs lose reputation; -and since your appearance and words have in so short a time made this -impression on us, that we already count you discreet, prove to us, -by telling us your life, whether your misfortune comes up to your -discretion.' - -'As far as I believe,' replied the shepherdess, 'both are on a level, -unless, indeed, fate has given me more judgment, the more to feel the -griefs that present themselves; but I am quite sure that my woes exceed -my discretion, in the same degree as all my craft is overcome by them, -since I have none wherewith to cure them. And that experience may set -you right, if you wish to hear me, fair maidens, I will tell you, in as -few words as possible, how, from the great understanding you judge I -possess, has sprung the woe which surpasses it.' - -'With nothing will you better satisfy our desires, discreet maiden,' -replied Florisa, 'than with telling us what we have asked you.' - -'Let us retire, then,' said the shepherdess, 'from this spot, and seek -another, where, without being seen or disturbed, I may be able to tell -you what it grieves me to have promised you, for I foresee that it will -not cost more to lose the good opinion I have gained with you, than to -reveal my thoughts to you, however late, if perhaps yours have not been -touched by the affliction I am suffering.' - -Desirous that the shepherdess should fulfil her promise, straightway -the three arose, and betook themselves to a secret and retired place, -known already to Galatea and Florisa, where, beneath the pleasant shade -of some leafy myrtles, without being seen by anybody, all three could -be seated. Forthwith, with exquisite grace and charm, the strange -shepherdess began to speak in this wise: - -'On the banks of the famous Henares, which ever yields fresh and -pleasant tribute to your golden Tagus, most beauteous shepherdesses, -was I born and nurtured in a station not so lowly, that I might -count myself the meanest of the village. My parents are labourers -and accustomed to field-labour, in which occupation I followed them, -leading a flock of simple sheep over the common pastures of our -village. So well did I adapt my thoughts to the condition in which -my lot had placed me, that nothing gave me more joy than to see my -flock multiply and increase, and I had no other thought save how to -gain for them the richest and most fertile pastures, the clearest -and freshest waters I could find. I had not, nor could I have, cares -beyond those that might arise from the rustic duties on which I was -engaged. The woods were my companions, in whose solitude, ofttimes -invited by the sweet birds' gentle harmony, I sent forth my voice in -a thousand simple songs, without mingling therein sighs or words that -might give any token of a love-sick breast. Ah! how often, merely to -please myself and to allow the time to pass away, did I wander from -bank to bank, from vale to vale, culling, here the white lily, there -the purple iris, here the red rose, there the fragrant pink, making -from every kind of sweet-smelling flowers a woven garland, wherewith -I adorned and bound up my hair; and then, viewing myself in the clear -and peaceful waters of some spring, I remained so joyous at having seen -myself, that I would not have changed my happiness for any other! And -how often did I make sport of some maidens, who, thinking to find in -my breast some manner of pity for the misery theirs felt, disclosed -to me, with abundance of tears and sighs, the love-secrets of their -soul! I remember now, fair shepherdesses, that one day there came to -me a girl friend of mine: throwing her arms round my neck, and joining -her face to mine, she said to me with streaming eyes: "Ah, sister -Teolinda!" (for this is the name of the hapless being before you). "I -truly believe the end of my days has come, since love has not dealt -with me as my desires deserved." Whereupon I, wondering at her display -of grief, thinking that some great misfortune had befallen her, in -the loss of her flock, or the death of her father or brother, wiped -her eyes with the sleeve of my smock, and asked her to tell me what -misfortune it was that caused her to lament so much. She, continuing -her tears, nor giving truce to her sighs, said to me: "What greater -misfortune, oh Teolinda, would you have happen to me, than that the son -of the chief man in our village, whom I love more than the very eyes in -my head, should have gone away without saying a word to me; and that -I have this morning seen in possession of Leocadia, daughter of the -head shepherd Lisalco, a crimson belt which I had given to that false -Eugenio, whereby was confirmed the suspicion I had of the love-affair -the traitor was carrying on with her?" When I ceased hearing her -complaints, I swear to you, friends and ladies mine, that I could not -cease from laughing within myself, and saying to her: "By my faith, -Lydia," (for so the unhappy girl was called) "I thought from your -complaints that you came stricken with another and a greater wound. But -now I know how void of sense are you who fancy yourselves in love, in -making much ado about such childish things. Tell me on your life, dear -Lydia, what is the worth of a crimson belt, that it should grieve you -to see it in Leocadia's possession or to find that Eugenio has given it -to her? You would do better to consider your honour and what concerns -the pasturage of your sheep, and not to mix yourself up with these -fooleries of love, since we draw nothing from them, so far as I see, -but loss of honour and of peace." When Lydia heard from me a reply so -contrary to the one she hoped for from my lips and pitying disposition, -she did nothing but bow her head, and adding tear to tear and sob to -sob, went from me; and after a little while, turning her head, she -said to me: "I pray God, Teolinda, that soon you may see yourself in -a state, compared to which you would count mine happy, and that love -may so treat you that you may tell your grief to one who will value -it and feel it in such wise as you have done mine;" and therewith she -went away, and I was left laughing at her madness. But ah! poor me! I -perceive clearly at every moment that her curse is working in me, since -even now I fear that I am telling my grief to one who will sorrow but -little at having learnt it!' - -Thereto Galatea replied: 'Would to God, discreet Teolinda, that you -might find a remedy for your loss as easily as you will find in us -pity for it, for you would soon lose the suspicion you cherish of our -sympathy.' - -'Your lovely presence, sweet shepherdesses, and pleasant converse,' -replied Teolinda, 'make me hope so; but my poor fortune compels me to -fear the contrary. Yet, come what may, I must now tell you what I have -promised you. With the freedom I have told you, and in the pursuits I -have related to you, I passed my life so joyously and peacefully that -desire knew not what to bid me do, until avenging love came to exact -from me a strict account for the small account in which I held him, -wherein he vanquished me in such a way that though I am his slave I -fancy that he is not yet paid nor satisfied. It happened then, that -one day (which would have been for me the happiest of the days of my -life, had not time and season brought such a decrease to my joys), -I went with other shepherdesses of our village to cut branches and -gather rushes and flowers and green sword-lilies to adorn the temple -and streets of our native place; for the following day was a most -high festival, and the inhabitants of our hamlet were bound by vow -and promise to keep it. We chanced to pass all together through a -delightful wood which is situated between the village and the river, -where we found a group of graceful shepherds, who were spending the -heat of the glowing noon-tide in the shade of the green trees. When -they saw us, we were at once recognised by them, for they were all -cousins or brothers or kinsmen of ours, and coming to meet us and -learning from us the purpose we had in view, they persuaded and -constrained us with courteous words not to go farther, for that some -of them would fetch the branches and flowers for which we were going. -And so, being overcome by their prayers--they were so earnest--we -granted their desire, and forthwith six of the youngest, equipped with -their bill-hooks, went off in great glee to bring us the green spoils -we sought. We girls (there were six of us) went to where the other -shepherds stood; and they received us with all courtesy, especially -a strange shepherd who was there, known to none of us, who was of -such noble grace and spirit that all stood wondering on seeing him, -but I stood wondering and overcome. I know not what to tell you, -shepherdesses, save that as soon as my eyes beheld him, I felt my heart -grow tender and there began to course through all my veins a frost -that set me aflame, and without knowing why, I felt my soul rejoice to -have set eyes on the handsome face of the unknown shepherd; and, in a -moment, though I was inexperienced in the ways of love, I recognised -that it was love that had stricken me; straightway had I wished to -make my plaint of him, if time and circumstances had permitted. In -short I then remained as now I am, overcome and filled with love, -though with more hope of recovery than I now possess. Ah! how often in -that hour did I long to go to Lydia, who was with us, and say to her: -"Forgive me, Lydia dear, for the discourteous reply I gave you the -other day, for I would have you know that now I have more experience -of the woe you complained of than you yourself!" One thing fills me -with wonder, how all the maidens there failed to see from the workings -of my face the secrets of my heart, and the cause of this must have -been that all the shepherds turned to the stranger and begged him -to finish the singing of a song he had begun before we came up. He, -without waiting to be pressed, continued the song he had begun, with -so exquisite and marvellous a voice that all who listened to it were -transported at hearing it. Then at last I yielded myself all in all -to all that love demanded, without there being left in me more desire -than if I had never had any for anything in my life. And, although I -was more entranced than all on hearing the shepherd's sweet melody, -yet I did not fail to lend the greatest attention to what he sang in -his verses; for love had already brought me to such a pass that it -would have touched me to the soul, had I heard him singing a lover's -themes, since I would have fancied that his thoughts were already -engaged, and perchance in a quarter where mine might have no share in -what they desired. But what he then sang was nothing but praises of the -shepherd's lot and the peaceful life of the fields, and some useful -counsels for the preservation of the flock; whereat I was not a little -pleased; for it seemed to me that if the shepherd had been in love, -he would have treated of naught but his love, since it is the way of -lovers to think time ill-spent which is spent on aught save extolling -and praising the cause of their griefs or joys. Mark, friends, in how -short a space I became mistress in the school of love. The end of the -shepherd's song and the first sight of those who came with the branches -occurred at the same moment; and the youths, to one who saw them from -afar, looked for all the world like a little hillock moving along trees -and all, as they came in staid procession covered with branches. As -they came near us, the six all raised their voices, and, one beginning -and all replying, with tokens of the greatest joy and with many merry -shouts, began a graceful chant. Amidst this joy and happiness they came -nearer than I wished, for they deprived me of the happiness I felt at -the sight of the shepherd. When they had laid down their green burden, -we saw that each had a lovely garland entwined round his arm, composed -of various charming flowers, which with graceful words they presented, -one to each of us, offering to carry the branches to the village; but -we, full of joy, thanked them for their fair courtesy and wished to -return to the village, when Eleuco, an old shepherd who was there, said -to us: "It will be well, fair shepherdesses, that you should repay us -for what our youths have done for you by leaving us the garlands you -are taking away over and above what you came to seek; but it must be -on condition that you give them to whomsoever you think fit, with your -own hands." "If you will be satisfied by so small a return from us," -replied one of the maidens, "I for my part am content," and taking -the garland with both hands placed it on the head of a gallant cousin -of hers. The others, guided by this example, gave theirs to different -youths who were there, all of them their kinsmen. I who remained to -the last, and had no kinsman there, affecting a certain indifference, -went up to the strange shepherd and placed the garland on his head, -saying to him: "For two reasons I give you this, fair youth, one, for -the pleasure you have given us all by your charming song, the other, -because in our village it is our custom to honour strangers." All -the bystanders were delighted with my action, but how can I tell you -what my soul felt when I saw myself so near to him who had stolen it -away? I can only say that I would have given any happiness I could -have wished for at that moment (save that of loving him), to be able -to encircle his neck with my arms as I encircled his brows with the -garland. The shepherd bowed to me and with well-chosen words thanked me -for the favour I did him, and as he took his leave of me, stealing the -opportunity from the many eyes that were there, with low voice said to -me: "I have rewarded you, fair shepherdess, better than you think, for -the garland you have given me; you take a pledge with you, and if you -know how to value it, you will perceive that you remain my debtor." I -would gladly have answered him, but such was the haste my companions -imposed on me that I had no chance of replying to him. In this wise I -returned to the village with a heart so different from that wherewith -I had set out that I myself marvelled at myself. Company was irksome -to me, and every thought that came to me and did not tend to thinking -of my shepherd, with much haste I strove forthwith to put away from my -mind as unworthy to occupy the place that was full of loving cares. I -know not how in so short a time I became changed into a being other -than that of old; for I no longer lived in myself but in Artidoro (for -such is the name of the half of my soul I go seeking). Wherever I -turned my eyes, I seemed to see his face; whatever I heard, straightway -his gentle music and melody sounded in my ears; nowhere did I move my -feet but I had given my life, if he had desired it, to find him there; -in food I did not find the wonted savour nor did my hands succeed in -finding aught to give it. In a word, all my senses were changed from -their former state, nor did my soul work through them as it was used -to do. In the consideration of the new Teolinda who was born within -me, and in the contemplation of the shepherd's grace that remained -imprinted on my soul, all that day passed away from me, and the night -preceding the solemn festival; and when this came, it was celebrated -with the greatest rejoicing and enthusiasm by all the inhabitants of -our village and of the neighbouring places. After the sacred offerings -in the temple were ended and the ceremonies due performed, well-nigh -most of the people of the hamlet came together in a broad square -before the temple, beneath the shade of four ancient leafy poplars -which were therein, and all forming a circle, left a space for the -youths from near and far to disport themselves in honour of the -festival in various pastoral games. Straightway on the instant a goodly -number of fit and lusty shepherds showed themselves in the square, -and giving joyous tokens of their youth and skill, began a thousand -graceful games. Now they tossed the heavy caber, now they showed the -lightness of their supple limbs in unwonted leaps, now they revealed -their great strength and dexterous craft in complicated wrestling -bouts, now they proved the swiftness of their feet in long races, each -one striving so to acquit himself in all that he might win the first -prize out of the many the chief men of the village had offered for the -best who should excel in such sports; but in these I have mentioned, -and in many others which I pass by so as not to be tedious, none of -all the neighbours or men of the district present achieved as much -as my Artidoro, who chose by his presence to honour and gladden our -festival, and to carry off the highest honour and prize in all the -games that were held. Such, shepherdesses, was his skill and spirit, -so great the praises all gave him, that I grew proud, and an unwonted -joy revelled in my breast at the mere reflection that I had known to -fill my thoughts so well. But despite this it gave me very great grief -that Artidoro, being a stranger, would have soon to depart from our -village; and, if he went away without at least knowing what he took -from me--that is, my soul--what a life would be mine in his absence, or -how could I forget my sorrow, at least by lamenting, since I had no one -to complain of save myself? Whilst I was occupied with these fancies, -the festival and rejoicing ended; and when Artidoro would have taken -leave of the shepherds, his friends, they all joined in asking him to -spend with them the eight remaining days of the festival, if nothing -more pleasing prevented it. "Nothing can give me greater pleasure, -kind shepherds," replied Artidoro, "than to serve you in this and all -else that your wish may be; for although it was my wish now to go and -seek a brother of mine, who has for a few days been missing from our -village, I will fulfil your desire, since it is I who gain thereby." -All thanked him greatly, and were pleased at his remaining; but I was -more so, thinking that in those eight days an opportunity could not -fail to present itself to me, when I might reveal to him what I could -no longer conceal. We spent nearly all that night in dances and games, -and in telling one another the feats we had seen the shepherds perform -that day, saying: "Such a one danced better than such a one, though -so and so knew more turns than so and so; Mingo threw Bras, but Bras -ran better than Mingo;" and finally, all came to the conclusion that -Artidoro, the strange shepherd, bore off the palm from all, each one -praising in detail his graces one by one; and all these praises, I -have already said, redounded to my delight. When the morning of the day -after the festival came, before fresh dawn lost the pearly dew from her -lovely locks, and the sun had fully displayed his rays on the peaks of -the neighbouring mountains, some twelve of us shepherdesses, the most -admired of the village, came together, and, linking hands, to the sound -of a flageolet and a bagpipe, weaving and unweaving intricate turns and -dance-movements, we went from the village to a green meadow not far -away, giving great pleasure to all who saw our mazy dance. And fortune, -which so far was guiding my affair from good to better, ordained that -in that same meadow we should find all the shepherds of the place, and -Artidoro with them. When they saw us, straightway attuning the sound -of a tabor they had to that of our pipes, they came forth to meet -us with the same measure and dance, mingling with us in bewildering -but well-ordered maze; and as the instruments changed their note, we -changed the dance, so that we shepherdesses had to unlink and give our -hands to the shepherds; and my good fortune willed that I should chance -to give mine to Artidoro. I know not, my friends, how to describe fully -to you what I felt at such a moment, unless by telling you that I was -so perturbed, that I failed to keep fitting step in the dance; so much -so that Artidoro was obliged to draw me violently after him, in order -that the thread of the measured dance might not be broken if he let me -go. Seizing the opportunity for it, I said to him: "Wherein has my hand -offended you, Artidoro, that you press it so hard?" He replied in a -voice that could be heard by none: "Nay, what has my soul done to you -that you use it so ill?" "My offence is clear," I replied gently; "but -for yours, neither do I see it, nor will it be seen." "This is just the -mischief," replied Artidoro, "that you can see your way to do evil, but -not to cure it." Herewith our discourse ended, for the dancing ended, -and I remained happy and thoughtful at what Artidoro had said to me; -and though I thought they were loving words, they did not convince me -that they came from one in love. Straightway we all, shepherds and -shepherdesses, sate down on the green grass; and when we had rested a -while from the fatigue of the dances that were over, the aged Eleuco, -attuning his instrument, which was a rebeck, to the pipe of another -shepherd, asked Artidoro to sing something, for he should so rather -than any other, since Heaven had bestowed such talent on him that it -were ingratitude to wish to conceal it. Artidoro, thanking Eleuco for -the praises he gave him, straightway began to sing some verses; and I -fixed them in my memory, since the words he had spoken to me before -had given me a suspicion, so that even now I have not forgotten them. -Though it may be irksome to you to hear them, I shall have to repeat -them to you, only because they are needful for you to understand, -stage by stage, through what stages love has brought me to the pass in -which I find myself. They are as follows: - - Wild, close-confined and gloomy be his night, - Never may he behold the longed-for day, - Incessant and unending be his woe, - Far, far away from bliss, and joy, and laughter, - Ought he to be, wrapt in a living death, - Whoso without sweet Love shall spend his life. - - Full though it be of joyousness, yet life - Naught save the shade can be of briefest night, - The veritable counterfeit of death, - If during all the hours that fill the day - It doth not silence every pang of woe, - And gladly, gladly welcome Love's sweet laughter. - - Where liveth gentle Love, there liveth laughter, - And where Love dieth, dieth too our life, - Our choicest pleasure is transformed to woe, - Into the darkness of eternal night - Is changed the radiance of the peaceful day, - Life without Love is naught but bitter death. - - Dangers wherein the issue is but death - The lover doth not flee: rather with laughter - He seeks his chance and longeth for the day, - When he may offer up his treasured life-- - Until he shall behold the last calm night-- - Unto Love's flame, and unto Love's sweet woe. - - The woe that is of Love, we call not woe, - Nor yet the death that Love bestoweth, death: - Let none to Love's night give the name of night, - Nor call Love's laughter by the name of laughter. - His life alone can be accounted life, - Our only merriment his joyous day. - - Oh blest, thrice-blest to me this happy day, - Whereon I can restrain my bitter woe, - Rejoicing that I have bestowed my life - On her who can bestow or life or death! - What will it be, what can I hope save laughter - From that proud face that turns the sun to night? - - Love hath my cloudy night to cloudless day - Transformed, to laughter my increasing woe, - And my approaching death to length of life. - -These were the verses, fair shepherdesses, which my Artidoro sang that -day with wondrous grace and no less pleasure on the part of those that -heard him. From them, and from the words he had spoken to me before, I -took occasion to consider if by chance the sight of me had caused some -new sensation of love in Artidoro's breast; and my suspicion did not -turn out so vain, but that he himself justified it to me on our return -to the village.' - -Teolinda had reached this point in the tale of her love, when the -shepherdesses heard a great uproar of shepherds shouting and dogs -barking. This caused them to end the discourse they had begun, and to -stop and observe through the branches what it was; in this way they saw -a pack of hounds crossing a green plain on their right hand, in pursuit -of a timid hare, that was coming with all speed to take shelter in the -dense underwood. It was not long before the shepherdesses saw it coming -to the same place where they were, and going straight to Galatea's -side. There, overcome by the fatigue of its long course, and almost as -it were safe from the peril nigh at hand, it sank down on the ground -with such wearied breath, that it seemed on the point of breathing its -last. The hounds pursued it by scent and track, until they came to -where the shepherdesses were; but Galatea, taking the timid hare in her -arms, checked the vengeful purpose of the eager hounds, for it seemed -to her not to be right to fail to defend a creature that had sought her -aid. Soon after there approached some shepherds, following the hounds -and the hare; and amongst them came Galatea's father, out of respect -for whom Florisa, Teolinda and she went out to meet him with due -courtesy. He and the shepherds were filled with wonder at Teolinda's -beauty, and desired to know who she was, for they saw clearly that she -was a stranger. Galatea and Florisa were not a little annoyed at their -approach, seeing that it had robbed them of the pleasure of learning -the issue of Teolinda's love; and they asked her to be good enough not -to leave their company for some days, if the accomplishment of her -desires were not by chance hindered thereby. - -'Nay, rather,' replied Teolinda, 'it suits me to remain a day or two on -this bank, to see if they can be accomplished; and on this account, as -also not to leave unfinished the story I have begun, I must do what you -bid me.' - -Galatea and Florisa embraced her, and offered her their friendship -anew, and to serve her to the best of their power. Meanwhile Galatea's -father and the other shepherds, having spread their cloaks on the -margin of the clear stream, and drawn from their wallets some country -fare, invited Galatea and her companions to eat with them. They -accepted the invitation, and, sitting down forthwith, they sated their -hunger, which was beginning to weary them as the day was already far -spent. In the course of these doings, and of some stories the shepherds -told to pass the time, the accustomed hour approached for returning -to the village. Straightway Galatea and Florisa, returning to their -flocks, collected them once more, and, in the company of fair Teolinda -and the other shepherds, gradually made their way to the hamlet; and at -the break of the hill where that morning they had happened on Elicio, -they all heard the pipe of the unloving Lenio, a shepherd in whose -breast love could never take up his abode; and thereat he lived in such -joy and content, that in whatever converse or gathering of shepherds he -found himself, his sole intent was to speak ill of love and lovers, and -all his songs tended to this end. By reason of this strange disposition -of his, he was known by all the shepherds in all those parts, and by -some he was loathed, by others held in esteem. Galatea and those who -came there stopped to listen, to see if Lenio was singing anything, -as was his wont, and straightway they saw him give his pipe to a -companion, and begin to sing what follows to its sound: - -LENIO. - An idle careless thought that wanders free, - A foolish vaunting fancy of the mind, - A something that no being hath nor kind, - Nor yet foundation, nursed by memory, - A grief that takes the name of jollity, - An empty hope that passes on the wind, - A tangled night where none the day may find, - A straying of the soul that will not see. - - These are the very roots wherefrom, I swear, - This old chimera fabled hath its birth, - Which beareth o'er the world the name of Love. - The soul that thus on Love doth set its care, - Deserveth to be banished from the earth, - And win no shelter in the heavens above. - -At the time that Lenio was singing what you have heard, Elicio and -Erastro had already come up with their flocks in the company of the -hapless Lisandro; and Elicio, thinking that Lenio's tongue in speaking -ill of love went beyond what was right, wished clearly to show him his -error, and, adopting the very theme of the verses he had sung, at the -moment Galatea, Florisa, Teolinda and the other shepherds came up, to -the sound of Erastro's pipe he began to sing in this wise: - -ELICIO. - Whosoever keepeth Love, - In his breast a prisoner close, - Hurl him down from heaven above, - Give him not on earth repose. - - Love a virtue is unending, - Virtues many more attaining, - Semblance after semblance gaining, - To the primal cause ascending. - Whosoever from such love, - Shall be banished by his woes; - Hurl him down from heaven above, - Grant him not on earth repose. - - A fair form, a lovely face, - Though but mortal, doomed to fade, - Are but copies, where portrayed - We may see the heavenly grace. - Grace on earth who doth not love, - Nor to it allegiance owes, - Shall be hurled from heaven above, - Nor on earth shall find repose. - - Love, when taken quite apart, - And untainted with alloy, - Filleth all the world with joy, - Even as Apollo's dart, - Whoso hath mistrust of Love, - Love that hides its blessing close, - Shall not win to heaven above, - But in deepest earth repose. - - For a thousand joys a debtor, - Each of us to Love is seen, - For 'tis Love that turns, I ween, - Bad to good, and good to better. - He who lets his fancies rove, - E'en a hair's breadth from Love's woes, - Shall not win to heaven above, - Nor on earth find sure repose. - - Love indeed is infinite, - If but honour be its stay; - But the love that dies away - Is not love, but appetite. - Whoso shall the veil of love - Raise not, but his heart shall close, - Slay him, lightning from above! - Earth, permit him not repose! - -The shepherds given to love felt no small pleasure at seeing how well -Elicio defended his view: but the loveless Lenio did not on this -account cease to remain firm in his opinion; nay, rather, he sought -anew to resume his song and to show in what he sang how ineffectual -Elicio's reasonings were to darken the bright truth which, following -his judgment, he upheld. But Galatea's father, who was called Aurelio -the venerable, said to him: - -'Don't weary yourself for the present, discreet Lenio, in seeking to -show us in your song what you feel in your heart, for the road from -here to the village is short, and it seems to me more time is needed -than you think to defend yourself against the many who hold a view -contrary to yours. Keep your reasonings for a more convenient spot, -for some day you and Elicio with other shepherds will be together at -the spring of slates or the stream of palms, where, with greater ease -and comfort, you may be able to discuss and make clear your different -opinions.' - -'The opinion Elicio holds is mere opinion,' replied Lenio, 'but mine is -absolute knowledge, and proved, which, sooner or later, forced me to -uphold it, seeing that it carried truth with it; but, as you say, there -will not fail a time more fitting for this end.' - -'This will I arrange,' answered Elicio, 'for it grieves me that so fine -an intellect as yours, friend Lenio, should lack what might improve -it and enhance it, like the pure and true love whose enemy you show -yourself.' - -'You are deceived, Elicio,' replied Lenio, 'if you think by specious -words and sophisms to make me change principles I would not hold it -manly to change.' - -'It is as wrong,' said Elicio, 'to persist in wrong, as it is good to -persevere in good, and I have always heard my elders say it is the part -of the wise to take counsel.' - -'I do not deny that,' answered Lenio, 'whenever I see that my judgment -is not correct; but so long as experience and reason do not show me the -contrary to what they have shown me hitherto, I believe that my opinion -is as true as yours is false.' - -'If the heretics of love were to be punished,' said Erastro at this -point, 'I would begin from this moment, friend Lenio, to cut wood -wherewith to burn you for the greatest heretic and enemy that love has.' - -'And even though I saw naught of love, save that you, Erastro, follow -it, and are of the band of lovers,' replied Lenio, 'that alone would -suffice to make me renounce it with a hundred thousand tongues, if a -hundred thousand I had.' - -'Do you think then, Lenio,' answered Erastro, 'that I am not fit to be -a lover?' - -'Nay,' replied Lenio, 'I think that men of your disposition and -understanding are fitted to be among love's servants; for he who is -lame falls to the ground at the slightest stumble, and he who has -little wisdom, wants but little time to lose it all; and as for those -who follow the banner of this your valorous captain, I for my part hold -that they are not the wisest in the world; and if they have been, they -ceased to be it, the moment they fell in love.' - -Great was the displeasure Erastro felt at what Lenio said, and thus he -answered him: - -'I think, Lenio, your insane reasonings deserve another punishment than -words; but I hope that some day you will pay for what you have just -said, without being aided by what you might say in your defence.' - -'If I knew of you, Erastro,' answered Lenio, 'that you were as brave as -you are fond, your threats would not fail to fill me with dread: but, -as I know you are as backward in the one, as in the other you are to -the fore, they cause laughter in me rather than terror.' - -Here Erastro lost all patience, and if it had not been for Lisandro and -Elicio, who placed themselves between, he had replied to Lenio with his -fists; for by this time his tongue, confused with rage, could scarce -perform its office. Great was the pleasure all felt at the sprightly -quarrel of the shepherds, and more at the rage and displeasure Erastro -displayed; for it was necessary that Galatea's father should make peace -between Lenio and him, though Erastro, if it had not been for fear of -losing the respect of his lady's father, would in no way have made it. -As soon as the matter was ended, all with rejoicing went their way to -the village, and whilst they were going, the fair Florisa, to the sound -of Galatea's pipe, sang this sonnet: - -FLORISA. - With increase may my tender lambs be crowned - Amidst the grassy mead or forest's fold: - Throughout the summer's heat or winter's cold - May herbage green and cooling streams abound. - May I through all my days and nights be found - Wrapt but in dreamings of a shepherd's life; - In no wise yielding to Love's petty strife, - Nor may his childish acts have power to wound. - - Here one Love's countless blessings doth proclaim, - Love's fruitless cares another maketh known. - I cannot say if both be brought to shame, - Nor yet to whom to give the victor's crown. - This much I know: that many Love by name - May call, yet few are chosen for his own. - -Short indeed was the road to the shepherds, beguiled and entertained -by the charming voice of Florisa, who ceased not her song till they -were quite near the village and the huts of Elicio and Erastro, who -stopped there with Lisandro, first taking leave of the venerable -Aurelio, Galatea, and Florisa, who went with Teolinda to the village, -the remaining shepherds going each to where he had his hut. That same -night the hapless Lisandro asked leave of Elicio to return to his -country or to where he might, in harmony with his desire, finish the -little of life that, as he thought, remained to him. Elicio with all -the arguments he could urge on him, and with the endless offers of true -friendship he made him, could by no means prevail on him to remain -in his company even for a few days; and so the luckless shepherd, -embracing Elicio with many tears and sighs, took leave of him, -promising to inform him of his condition wherever he might be. Elicio, -having accompanied him half a league from his hut, again embraced him -closely; and making again fresh offers, they parted, Elicio being in -great grief for what Lisandro suffered. And so he returned to his hut -to spend the greater part of the night in amorous fancies and to await -the coming day that he might enjoy the happiness the sight of Galatea -caused him. And she, when she reached her village, desiring to learn -the issue of Teolinda's love, arranged so that Florisa, Teolinda and -she might be alone that night; and finding the opportunity she desired, -the love-sick shepherdess continued her story as will be seen in the -second book. - - - - - BOOK II. - - -Being now free and relieved from what they had to do that night with -their flocks, they arranged to retire and withdraw with Teolinda to a -spot where they might, without being hindered by anyone, hear what was -lacking of the issue of her love. And so they betook themselves to a -little garden by Galatea's house; and, the three seating themselves -beneath a stately green vine which entwined itself in an intricate -manner along some wooden network, Teolinda repeated once more some -words of what she had said before and went on, saying: - -'After our dance and Artidoro's song were ended, as I have already -told you, fair shepherdesses, it seemed good to all of us to return -to the village to perform in the temple the solemn rites, and because -it likewise seemed to us that the solemnity of the feast in some way -gave us liberty; but not being so punctilious as to seclusion, we -enjoyed ourselves with more freedom. Wherefore we all, shepherds and -shepherdesses, in a confused mass, with gladness and rejoicing returned -to the village, speaking each with the one who pleased him best. Fate, -and my care, and Artidoro's solicitude also ordained that, without any -display of artifice in the matter, we two kept apart from the rest in -such a manner that on the way we might safely have said more than what -we did say, if each of us had not respected what we owed to ourselves -and to each other. At length I said to him, to draw him out, as the -saying goes: "The days you have spent in our village, Artidoro, will -be years to you, since in your own you must have things to occupy you -which must give you greater pleasure." "All that I can hope for in my -life," replied Artidoro, "would I exchange, if only the days I have to -spend here might be, not years, but centuries, since, when they come to -an end, I do not hope to pass others that may give me greater joy." "Is -the joy you feel so great," I replied, "at seeing our festivals?" "It -does not arise from this," he answered, "but from regarding the beauty -of the shepherdesses of your village." "In truth," I retorted, "pretty -girls must be wanting in yours." "The truth is that they are not -wanting there," he replied, "but that here there is a superabundance, -so that one single one I have seen is enough for those of yonder -place to count themselves ugly compared to her." "Your courtesy makes -you say this, oh Artidoro," I replied, "for I know full well that in -this hamlet there is no one who excels so much as you say." "I know -better that what I say is true," he answered, "since I have seen the -one and beheld the others." "Perhaps you beheld her from afar, and -the distance between," said I, "made you see a different thing from -what it really was." "In the same way," he replied, "as I see and am -beholding you now, I beheld and saw her. Happy should I be to have -been mistaken, if her disposition does not agree with her beauty." "It -would not grieve me to be the one you say, for the pleasure she must -feel who sees herself proclaimed and accounted beautiful." "I would -much rather that you were not," replied Artidoro. "Then what would you -lose," I answered, "if instead of not being the one you say, I were?" -"What I have gained, I know full well," he replied, "as to what I -have to lose, I am doubtful and in fear." "You know well how to play -the lover, Artidoro," said I. "You know better how to inspire love, -Teolinda," he replied. Thereon I said to him, "I do not know if I -should tell you, Artidoro, that I wish neither of us to be deceived." -Whereto he replied, "I am quite sure that I am not deceived, and it -is in your hands to seek to undeceive yourself as often as you seek -to make trial of the pure desire I have to serve you." "I will reward -you for that," I answered, "with the same desire; for it seems to me -that it would not be well to remain indebted to anybody where the cost -is so small." At this moment, without his having a chance to reply to -me, the head-shepherd Eleuco came up, saying in a loud voice: "Ho, -gay shepherds and fair shepherdesses, make them hear our approach in -the village, you singing some chant, maidens, so that we can reply to -you, in order that the people of the hamlet may see how much we who -are on our way here, do to make our festival joyous." And because in -nothing that Eleuco commanded did he fail to be obeyed, straightway -the shepherds beckoned to me to begin; and so, availing myself of -the opportunity, and profiting by what had passed with Artidoro, I -commenced this chant: - - Whosoever by much striving - Would the perfect lover be - _Honour needs and secrecy_. - - Wouldst thou seek with heart elate - Love's sweet joy to reach aright, - Take as key to thy delight - Honour, secrecy as gate. - Who thereby would enter straight, - Wise and witty though he be - _Honour needs and secrecy_. - - Whoso loveth human beauty, - With reproach is oft confounded, - If his passion be not bounded - By his honour and his duty: - And such noble love as booty - Winneth every man, if he - _Honour have and secrecy_. - - Everyone this truth hath known, - And it cannot be denied, - That speech oft will lose the bride - Whom a silent tongue hath won, - And he will all conflict shun - Who a lover is, if he - _Honour have and secrecy_. - - Chattering tongues, audacious eyes, - May have brought a thousand cares, - May have set a thousand snares - For the soul, and so it dies. - Whoso would his miseries - Lessen, and from strife be free, - _Honour needs and secrecy_. - -'I know not, fair shepherdesses, if in singing what you have heard I -succeeded; but I know very well that Artidoro knew how to profit by -it, since all the time he was in our village, though he often spoke to -me, it was with so much reserve, secrecy, and modesty that idle eyes -and chattering tongues neither had nor saw aught to say that might be -prejudicial to our honour. But in the fear I had that, when the period -Artidoro had promised to spend in our village was ended, he would have -to go to his own, I sought, though at the cost of my modesty, that my -heart should not remain with the regret of having kept silence on what -it were useless to speak afterwards, when Artidoro had gone. And so, -after my eyes gave leave for his most beauteous eyes to gaze on me -lovingly, our tongues were not still, nor failed to show with words -what up till then the eyes had so clearly declared by sign. Finally, -you must know, friends, that one day when I found myself by chance -alone with Artidoro, he disclosed to me, with tokens of an ardent -love and courtesy, the true and honourable love he felt for me; and -though I would have wished to play the reluctant prude, yet, because -I was afraid, as I have already told you, that he would go, I did not -wish to disdain him nor to dismiss him, and also because it seemed to -me that the lack of sympathy, inspired or felt at the beginning of -a love-affair, is the reason why those who are not very experienced -in their passion, abandon and leave the enterprise they have begun. -Wherefore I gave him answer such as I desired to give him. We agreed -in the resolve that he should repair to his village, and a few days -after should by some honourable mediation send to ask me in marriage -from my parents; whereat he was so happy and content that he did not -cease to call the day fortunate on which his eyes beheld me. As for -me, I can tell you that I would not have changed my happiness for any -other that could be imagined; for I was sure that Artidoro's worth and -good qualities were such that my father would be happy to receive him -as a son-in-law. The happy climax you have heard, shepherdesses, was -the climax of our love, for only two or three days remained before -Artidoro's departure, when fortune, as one who never set bounds to -her designs, ordained that a sister of mine, a little younger than I, -should return to our village from another where she had been for some -days, in the house of an aunt of ours who was ill. And in order that -you may see, ladies, what strange and unthought-of chances happen in -the world, I would have you know a fact which I think will not fail to -cause in you some strange feeling of wonder: it is that this sister of -mine I have told you of, who up till then had been away, resembles me -so much in face, stature, grace, and spirit (if I have any), that not -merely those of our hamlet, but our very parents have often mistaken -us, and spoken to the one for the other, so that, not to fall into -this error, they distinguished us by the differences of our dresses, -which were different. In one thing only, as I believe, did Nature -make us quite different, namely, in disposition, my sister's being -harsher than my happiness required, since, because of her being less -compassionate than sharp-witted, I shall have to weep as long as my -life endures. It happened, then, that as soon as my sister came to the -village desiring to resume the rustic duties that were pleasing to her, -she rose next day earlier than I wished, and went off to the meadow -with the very sheep I used to lead; and though I wished to follow her -by reason of the happiness which followed to me from the sight of -my Artidoro, for some reason or other my mother kept me at home the -whole of that day, which was the last of my joys. For that night my -sister, having brought back her flock, told me as in secret that she -had to tell me something of great importance to me. I, who might have -imagined anything rather than what she said to me, arranged that we -should soon see each other alone, when with face somewhat moved, I -hanging on her words, she began to say to me: "I know not, sister mine, -what to think of your honour, nor yet whether I should be silent on -what I cannot refrain from telling you, in order to see if you give -me any excuse for the fault I imagine you are guilty of: and though, -as a younger sister, I should have addressed you with more respect, -you must forgive me; for in what I have seen to-day you will find the -excuse for what I say to you." When I heard her speaking in this way -I knew not what to answer her except to tell her to go on with her -discourse. "You must know, sister," she proceeded, "that this morning -when I went forth with our sheep to the meadow, and was going alone -with them along the bank of our cool Henares, as I passed through the -glade of counsel there came out towards me a shepherd whom I can truly -swear I have never seen in our district; and with a strange freedom -of manner he began to greet me so lovingly that I stood shamed and -confused, not knowing what to answer him. Failing to take warning from -the anger which I fancy I showed in my face, he came up to me, saying -to me: 'What silence is this, fair Teolinda, last refuge of this soul -that adores you?' And he was on the point of taking my hands to kiss -them, adding to what I have said a whole list of endearments, which it -seemed he brought ready prepared. At once I understood, seeing that he -was falling into the error many others have fallen into, and thinking -he was speaking with you; whence a suspicion arose in me that if you, -sister, had never seen him, nor treated him with familiarity, it would -not be possible for him to have the boldness to speak to you in that -way. Whereat I felt so great a rage that I could scarcely form words -to answer him, but at last I replied to him in the way his boldness -deserved, and as it seemed to me you, sister, would have had to answer -anyone speaking to you so freely; and if it had not been that the -shepherdess Licea came up at that moment, I had added such words that -he would truly have repented addressing his to me. And the best of it -is that I never chose to tell him of the error he was in, but that he -believed I was Teolinda, as if he had been speaking with you yourself. -At last he went off, calling me thankless, ungrateful, one who showed -little return; and from what I can judge from the expression he bore, -I assure you, sister, he will not dare speak to you again though he -should meet you all alone. What I want to know is who is this shepherd, -and what converse has been between you, whence it comes that he dare -speak to you with such freedom?" To your great discretion, discreet -shepherdesses, I leave it to imagine what my soul would feel on hearing -what my sister told me: but at length, dissembling as best I could, -I said to her: "You have done me the greatest favour in the world, -sister Leonarda," (for so was called the disturber of my peace) "in -having by your harsh words rid me of the disgust and turmoil caused me -by the importunities you mention of this shepherd. He is a stranger -who for eight days has been in our village, whose thoughts are full -of arrogance and folly, so great that wherever he sees me he treats -me as you have seen, giving himself up to the belief that he has won -my good-will; and though I have undeceived him, perhaps with harsher -words than you said to him, nevertheless he does not cease to persist -in his vain purpose. I assure you, sister, that I wish the new day -were here that I might go and tell him that if he does not desist -from his vain hope, he may expect the end to it which my words have -always indicated to him." And it was indeed true, sweet friends, that -I would have given all that might have been asked of me, if it had but -been dawn, only that I might go and see my Artidoro, and undeceive -him of the error he had fallen into, fearing lest through the bitter -and petulant reply my sister had given him he should be disdainful -and do something to prejudice our agreement. The long nights of rough -December were not more irksome to the lover hoping some happiness from -the coming day than was that night distasteful to me, though it was one -of the short nights of summer, since I longed for the new light to go -and see the light whereby my eyes saw. And so, before the stars wholly -lost their brightness, being even in doubt whether it were night or -day, constrained by my longing, on the pretext of going to pasture my -sheep, I went forth from the village, and hurrying the flock more than -usual to urge it on, reached the spot where at other times I was wont -to find Artidoro, which I found deserted and without anything to give -me indication of him; whereat my heart throbbed violently within me, -for it almost guessed the evil which was in store for it. How often, -seeing that I did not find him, did I wish to beat the air with my -voice, calling out my Artidoro's beloved name, and to say, "Come, my -joy, I am the true Teolinda, who longs for you and loves you more than -herself!" But fear lest my words might be heard by another than him, -made me keep more silent than I should have wished. And so, after I -had traversed once and yet again all the bank and wood of the gentle -Henares, I sat me down, wearied, at the foot of a green willow, waiting -until the bright sun should with his rays spread over all the face of -the earth, so that in his brightness there might not remain thicket, -cave, copse, cottage, or hut where I might not go seeking my joy. But -scarcely had the new light given opportunity to distinguish colours, -when straightway a rough-barked poplar, which was before me, presented -itself to my eyes: on it and on many others I saw some letters written, -which I at once recognised to be from Artidoro's hand, set there; and -rising in haste to see what they said, I saw, fair shepherdesses, that -it was this: - - Shepherdess, alone in thee - Do I find that beauty rare - Which to naught can I compare - Save to thine own cruelty. - Thou wert fickle, loyal I, - Thus thou sowedst with open hand - Promises upon the sand; - Down the wind my hope did fly. - - Never had I thought to know - That thy sweet and joyous "yes" - Would be followed--I confess-- - By a sad and bitter "no." - Yet I had not been undone, - Had the eyes that gazed on thee - Kept in sight prosperity, - Not thy loveliness alone. - - But the more thy mystic grace - Speaks of promise and of gladness, - All the more I sink in sadness, - All my wits are in a maze. - Ah, those eyes! they proved untrue, - Though compassionate in seeming. - Tell me, eyes so falsely beaming, - How they sinned that gaze on you. - - Is there man, cruel shepherdess, - But thou couldst beguile his fancies - By thy staid and modest glances, - By thy voice's sweet caress? - This indeed have I believed, - That thou couldst have, days ago, - Held me, hadst thou wished it so, - Captive, vanquished, and deceived. - - Lo, the letters I shall write - On the rough bark of this tree-- - Firmer than did faith with thee, - Will they grow in time's despite. - On thy lips thy faith was set, - On thy promises so vain; - Firmer 'gainst the wind-tossed main - Is the rock the gale hath met. - - Fearsome art thou, full of bane - As the viper which we press - Under foot--ah, shepherdess, - False as fair, my charm and pain! - Whatsoe'er thy cruelty - Biddeth, I without delay - Will perform; to disobey - Thy command was ne'er in me. - - I shall far in exile die - That contented thou mayst live, - But beware lest Love perceive - How thou scorn'st my misery. - In Love's dance, though Love may place - Loyal heart in bondage strait, - Yet it may not change its state, - But must stay, to shun disgrace. - - Thou in beauty dost excel - Every maiden on this earth, - And I thought that from thy worth - Thou wert firm in love as well. - Now my love the truth doth know - 'Twas that Nature wished to limn - In thy face an angel, Time - In thy mood that changes so. - - Wouldst thou know where I have gone, - Where my woeful life shall end, - Mark my blood, thy footsteps bend - By the path my blood hath shown. - And though naught with thee doth well - Of our love and harmony - Do not to the corse deny - E'en the sad and last farewell. - - Thou wilt be without remorse, - Harder than the diamond stone, - If thou makest not thy moan, - When thou dost behold my corse. - If in life thou hatedst me, - Then amidst my hapless plight - I shall count my death delight - To be dead and wept by thee. - -'What words will suffice, shepherdesses, to make you understand the -extremity of grief that seized upon my heart, when I clearly understood -that the verses I had read were my beloved Artidoro's? But there is no -reason why I should make too much of it to you, since it did not go as -far as was needed to end my life, which thenceforward I have held in -such loathing, that I would not feel, nor could there come to me, a -greater pleasure than to lose it. So great and of such a kind were the -sighs I then gave forth, the tears I shed, the piteous cries I uttered, -that none who had heard me but would have taken me for mad. In short, I -remained in such a state, that, without considering what I owed to my -honour, I determined to forsake my dear native land, beloved parents -and cherished brothers, and to leave my simple flock to take care -of itself; and, without heeding aught else save what I deemed to be -necessary for my satisfaction, that very morning, embracing a thousand -times the bark where my Artidoro's hand had been, I departed from that -place with the intent to come to these banks where I know Artidoro has -and makes his abode, to see if he has been so inconsiderate and cruel -to himself, as to put into practice what he left written in his last -verses: for if it were so, henceforward I promise you, my friends, that -the desire and haste with which I shall follow him in death, shall be -no less than the willingness with which I have loved him in life. But, -woe is me! I verily believe there is no foreboding which may be to my -hurt but will turn out true, for it is now nine days since I came to -these cool banks, and all this while I have learnt no tidings of what I -desire; and may it please God that when I learn them, it may not be the -worst I forebode. Here you see, discreet maidens, the mournful issue of -my life of love. I have now told you who I am and what I seek; if you -have any tidings of my happiness, may fortune grant you the greatest -you desire, so that you do not withhold it from me.' - -With such tears did the loving shepherdess accompany the words she -uttered, that he would have had a heart of steel who had not grieved at -them. Galatea and Florisa, who were naturally of a pitying disposition, -could not hold theirs back, nor yet did they fail to comfort her with -the most soothing and helpful words in their power, counselling her to -remain some days in their company; that perhaps her fortune would in -the meantime cause her to learn some tidings of Artidoro, since Heaven -would not allow a shepherd so discreet as she depicted him by reason of -so strange an error to end the course of his youthful years; that it -might be that Artidoro, his thought having in course of time returned -to better course and purpose, might return to see the native land he -longed for and his sweet friends; and that she might, therefore, hope -to find him there better than elsewhere. The shepherdess, somewhat -consoled by these and other reasonings, was pleased to remain with -them, thanking them for the favour they did her, and for the desire -they showed to secure her happiness. At this moment the serene night, -urging on her starry car through the sky, gave token that the new day -was approaching; and the shepherdesses, in desire and need of rest, -arose and repaired from the cool garden to their dwellings. But scarce -had the bright sun with his warm rays scattered and consumed the -dense mist, which on cool mornings is wont to spread through the air, -when the three shepherdesses, leaving their lazy couches, returned to -the wonted pursuit of grazing their flock, Galatea and Florisa with -thoughts far different from that cherished by the fair Teolinda, who -went her way so sad and thoughtful that it was a marvel. And for this -reason, Galatea, to see if she might in some way distract her, begged -her to lay aside her melancholy for a while, and be so good as to sing -some verses to the sound of Florisa's pipe. To this Teolinda replied: - -'If I thought that the great cause I have for weeping, despite the -slight cause I have for singing, would be diminished in any way, you -might well forgive me, fair Galatea, for not doing what you bid me; but -as I already know by experience that what my tongue utters in song, my -heart confirms with weeping, I will do what you wish, since thereby I -shall satisfy your desire without going contrary to mine.' - -And straightway the shepherdess Florisa played her pipe, to the sound -of which Teolinda sang this sonnet: - -TEOLINDA. - Whither a flagrant cruel lie doth go, - This have I learned from my grievous state, - And how Love with my hurt doth meditate - The life that fear denies me, to bestow. - To dwell within my flesh my soul doth cease, - Following his soul that by some mystic fate - In pain hath placed it, and in woe so great - That happiness brings strife, and sorrow peace. - If I do live, 'tis hope that makes me live, - Hope, that, though slight and weak, doth upward mount, - Clinging unto the strength my love doth give. - Ah firm beginning, transformation frail, - Bitterest total of a sweet account! - Amidst your persecutions life must fail. - -Teolinda had scarcely ceased singing the sonnet you have heard, -when, on their right hand, on the slope of the cool vale, the three -shepherdesses became aware of the sound of a pipe, whose sweetness -was such that all halted and stood still, to enjoy the sweet harmony -with more attention. And anon they heard the sound of a small rebeck, -attuning itself to that of the pipe with grace and skill so great that -the two shepherdesses Galatea and Florisa stood rapt, wondering what -shepherds they might be who played with such harmony; for they clearly -saw that none of those they knew was so skilled in music, unless it -were Elicio. - -'At this moment,' said Teolinda, 'if my ears deceive me not, fair -shepherdesses, I think you now have on your banks the two renowned and -famous shepherds Thyrsis and Damon, natives of my country--at least -Thyrsis is, who was born in famous Compluto, a town founded on our -Henares' banks; and Damon, his intimate and perfect friend, if I am -not ill informed, draws his origin from the mountains of León, and was -nurtured in Mantua Carpentanea, the renowned. Both are so excellent in -every manner of discretion, learning and praiseworthy pursuits, that -not only are they known within the boundaries of our district, but -they are known and esteemed throughout all the boundaries of the land; -and think not, shepherdesses, that the genius of these two shepherds -extends merely to knowing what befits the shepherd's lot, for it -passes so far beyond that they teach and dispute of the hidden things -of Heaven and the unknown things of earth, in terms and modes agreed -upon. And I am perplexed to think what cause will have moved them to -leave, Thyrsis his sweet and beloved Phyllis, Damon his fair and modest -Amaryllis; Phyllis by Thyrsis, Amaryllis by Damon so beloved, that -there is in our village or its environs no person, nor in the district -a wood, meadow, spring or stream, that does not know full well their -warm and modest love.' - -'Cease at present, Teolinda,' said Florisa, 'to praise these shepherds -to us, for it profits us more to hear what they sing as they come, -since it seems to me that they have no less charm in their voices than -in the music of their instruments.' - -'What will you say,' Teolinda then replied, 'when you see all this -surpassed by the excellence of their poetry, which is of such a kind -that for the one it has already gained the epithet of divine, and for -the other that of superhuman?' - -The shepherdesses, whilst engaged in this discourse, saw, on the slope -of the vale along which they themselves were going, two shepherds -appear, of gallant bearing and abounding spirit, one a little older -than the other; so well dressed, though in shepherd's garb, that in -their carriage and appearance they seemed more like brave courtiers -than mountain herdsmen. Each wore a well-cut garment of finest -white wool, trimmed with tawny red and grey, colours which their -shepherdesses fancied most. Each had hanging from his shoulder a wallet -no less handsome and adorned than the garments. They came crowned with -green laurel and cool ivy, with their twisted crooks placed under their -arms. They brought no companion, and came so rapt in their music that -they were for a long while without seeing the fixed shepherdesses, who -were wending their way along the same slope, wondering not a little at -the gentle grace and charm of the shepherds, who, with voices attuned -to the same chant, one beginning and the other replying, sang this -which follows: - - DAMON. THYRSIS. - -DAMON. - Thyrsis, who dost in loneliness depart - With steps emboldened, though against thy will, - From yonder light wherewith remains thine heart, - Why dost thou not the air with mourning fill? - So great indeed thy cause is to complain - Of the fierce troubler of thy life so still. - -THYRSIS. - Damon, once let the life be rent in twain, - If the grief-stricken body go away, - And yet the higher half behind remain, - What virtue or what being will essay - My tongue to move, already counted dead? - For where my soul was, there my life doth stay. - I see, I hear, I feel, 'tis truth indeed, - And yet I am a phantom formed by love, - My only stay is hope that hath not fled. - -DAMON. - Oh, happy Thyrsis, how thy lot doth move - My soul to envy! rightly, for I know - That it doth rise all lovers' lots above. - Absence alone displeaseth thee, and so - Firm and secure thou hast in Love a stay - Wherewith thy soul rejoiceth 'midst its woe. - Alas! where'er I go I fall a prey - Beneath the chilly scornful hand of fear, - Or with its cruel lance disdain doth slay! - Count life as death; although it doth appear - Living to thee, 'tis like a lamp that dies - And as it dies, the flame burneth more clear. - My wearied soul doth not in time that flies, - Nor in the means that absence offers, find - Its consolation 'midst its miseries. - -THYRSIS. - Love that is firm and pure hath ne'er declined - Through bitter absence; rather memory - Fosters its growth by faith within the mind. - The perfect lover sees no remedy - Relief unto the loving load to give, - However short or long the absence be. - For memory, which only doth perceive - What Love hath set within the soul, doth show - The lovèd image to the mind alive. - And then in soothing silence makes him know - His fortune, good or ill, as from her eye - A loving or a loveless glance doth go. - And if thou markest that I do not sigh, - 'Tis that my Phyllis doth my singing guide, - Here in my breast my Phyllis I descry. - -DAMON. - If in her lovely face thou hadst espied - Signs of displeasure when thou didst depart - Far from the joy that thee hath satisfied, - Full well I know, my Thyrsis, that thine heart - Would be as full as mine of bitter woe-- - Love's bliss was thine, but mine Love's cruel smart-- - -THYRSIS. - With words like these I pass the time, and so, - Damon, I temper absence's extreme, - And gladly do remain, or come, or go. - For she who was from birth a living theme, - Type of the deathless beauty in the skies, - Worthy of marble, temple, diadem, - Even my Phyllis, blinds th' covetous eyes, - With her rare virtue and her modest zeal, - So that I fear not; none will wrest the prize. - The strait subjection that my soul doth feel - Before hers, and the purpose raised on high, - That in her worship doth its goal reveal, - And more, the fact that Phyllis knows that I - Love her, and doth return my love--all these - Banish my grief and bring felicity. - -DAMON. - Blest Thyrsis, Thyrsis crowned with happiness! - Mayst thou enjoy for ages yet to come - Thy bliss 'midst Love's delight and certain peace. - But I, whom brief and unrelenting doom - To such a doubtful pass as this hath led, - In merit poor, in cares rich, near the tomb. - 'Tis good that I should die, since, being dead, - Nor cruel Amaryllis shall I fear - Nor Love ungrateful whereby I am sped. - Oh, fairer than the heavens, or sun's bright sphere, - Yet harder far than adamant to me, - Ready to hurt, but slow to bring me cheer, - What wind from south or north or east on thee - Harshness did blow, that thou didst thus ordain, - That from thy presence I should ever flee? - I, shepherdess, in lands across the main - Far off shall die--thy will thou hast avowed-- - Doomed unto death, to fetter, yoke and chain. - -THYRSIS. - Since Heaven in its mercy hath endowed - Thee, Damon, with such blessings, dearest friend, - With intellect so sprightly and so proud, - Yet it with thy lament and sorrow blend, - Remember that the sun's all-scorching ray - And ice's chill at last shall have an end. - Destiny does not always choose one way - Whereby with smooth, reposeful steps to bring - Happiness to us--mark the words I say-- - For sometimes by unthought-of suffering, - In seeming far from pleasure and from joy, - It leads us to the blisses poets sing. - But come, good friend, thy memory employ - Upon the modest joys that Love once gave, - Pledges of victory without alloy. - And, if thou canst, a pastime seek, to save - Thy soul from brooding, whilst the time of scorn - Goes by, and we attain the boon we crave. - Unto the ice that by degrees doth burn, - Unto the fire that chills beyond degree, - What bard shall place degree thereto, or bourne? - Vainly he wearies, vainly watcheth he - Who, out of favour, yet Love's web doth seek - To cut according to his fantasy; - He is, though strong in Love, in fortune weak. - -Here ceased the exquisite song of the graceful shepherds, but not as -regards the pleasure the shepherdesses had felt at listening to it; -rather they would have wished it not to end so soon, for it was one of -those lays that are but rarely heard. At this moment the two gallant -shepherds bent their steps in the direction where the shepherdesses -were, whereat Teolinda was grieved, for she feared to be recognised by -them; and for this reason she asked Galatea that they might go away -from that place. She did it, and the shepherds passed by, and as they -passed Galatea heard Thyrsis saying to Damon: - -'These banks, friend Damon, are those on which the fair Galatea grazes -her flocks, and to which the loving Elicio brings his, your intimate -and special friend, to whom may fortune give such issue in his love as -his honourable and good desires deserve. For many days I have not known -to what straits his lot has brought him; but from what I have heard -tell of the coy disposition of discreet Galatea, for whom he is dying, -I fear he must be full of woe long before he is content.' - -'I would not be astonished at this,' replied Damon, 'for with all the -graces and special gifts wherewith Heaven has enriched Galatea, it has -after all made her a woman, in which frail object is not always the -gratitude that is due, and which he needs whose smallest risk for them -is life. What I have heard tell of Elicio's love is that he adores -Galatea without passing beyond the bounds that are due to her modesty, -and that Galatea's discretion is so great that she does not give proofs -of loving or of loathing Elicio; and so the hapless swain must go on -subject to a thousand contrary chances, waiting on time and fortune -(means hopeless enough) to shorten or lengthen his life, but which are -more likely to shorten it than to sustain it.' - -So far Galatea could hear what the shepherds, as they went along, said -of her and of Elicio, whereat she felt no small pleasure, understanding -that what report published of her affairs was what was due to her -pure intent; and from that moment she determined not to do for Elicio -anything that might give report a chance of speaking false in what it -published of her thoughts. At this moment the two brave shepherds were -gradually wending their way with loitering steps towards the village, -desiring to be present at the nuptials of the happy shepherd Daranio, -who was marrying Silveria of the green eyes, and this was one of the -reasons why they had left their flocks, and were coming to Galatea's -hamlet. But, when but little of the way remained to be covered, -they heard on its right side the sound of a rebeck which sounded -harmoniously and sweetly; and Damon stopping caught Thyrsis by the arm, -and said to him: - -'Stay, listen a while, Thyrsis, for if my ears do not deceive me, the -sound that reaches them is that from the rebeck of my good friend -Elicio, on whom Nature bestowed so much charm in many different arts, -as you will hear if you listen to him, and learn if you speak with him.' - -'Think not, Damon,' replied Thyrsis, 'that I have yet to learn Elicio's -good qualities, for days ago fame clearly revealed them to me. But be -silent now, and let us listen to see if he sings aught that may give us -some sure token of his present fortune.' - -'You say well,' answered Damon, 'but it will be necessary, the better -to hear him, for us to go in among these branches so that we may listen -to him more closely without being seen by him.' - -They did so, and placed themselves in so good a position that no word -that Elicio said or sang, failed to be heard by them and even noted. -Elicio was in the company of his friend Erastro, from whom he was -rarely separated by reason of the pleasure and enjoyment he received -from his excellent converse, and all or most of the day was spent by -them in singing and playing their instruments, and at this moment, -Elicio playing his rebeck and Erastro his pipe, the former began these -verses: - -ELICIO. - I yield unto the thought within my breast - And in my grief find rest; - Glory no more in view, - I follow her whom fancy doth pursue, - For her I ever in my fancy see, - From all the bonds of Love exempt and free. - - Unto the soul's eye Heaven grants not the grace - To see the peaceful face - Of her who is my foe, - Glory and pride of all that Heaven can show; - When I behold her with my body's eye, - The sun have I beheld, and blind am I. - - Oh bitter bonds of Love, though fraught with pleasure! - Oh, mighty beyond measure, - Love's hand! that thus couldst steal - The bliss which thou didst promise to reveal - Unto mine eyes, when, in my freedom's hour, - I mocked at thee, thy bow and quiver's power. - - What loveliness! what hands as white as snow, - Thou tyrant, didst thou show! - How wearied wert thou grown, - When first the noose upon my neck was thrown! - And even thou hadst fallen in the fray - Were Galatea not alive to-day. - - She, she alone, on earth alone was found - To deal the cruel wound - Within the heart of me. - And make a vassal of the fancy free, - That would as steel or marble be displayed, - Did it not yield itself to love the maid. - - What charter can protect, what monarch's grace - Against the cruel face, - More beauteous than the sun, - Of her who hath my happiness undone? - Ah face, that dost reveal - On earth the bliss that Heaven doth conceal! - - How comes it then that nature could unite - Such rigour and despite - With so much loveliness, - Such worth and yet a mood so pitiless? - Such opposites to join - My happiness consents--the hurt is mine. - - Easy it is that my brief lot should see - Sweet life in unity - With bitter death, and find - Its evil nestling where its good reclined. - Amidst these different ways - I see that hope, but not desire decays. - -The loving shepherd sang no more, nor did Thyrsis and Damon wish to -stay longer, but showing themselves unexpectedly and with spirit, came -to where Elicio was. When he saw them he recognised his friend Damon, -and going forward with incredible joy to welcome him, said to him: - -'What fortune, discreet Damon, has ordained that by your presence you -should bestow so fair a fortune on these banks which have long wished -for you?' - -'It cannot be but fair,' answered Damon, 'since it has brought me to -see you, oh Elicio, a thing on which I set a value as great as is the -desire I had for it, and as long absence and the friendship I cherish -for you forced me to do. But if you can for any reason say what you -have said, it is because you have before you the famous Thyrsis, glory -and honour of the Castilian soil.' - -When Elicio heard him say that this was Thyrsis, to him only known by -fame, he welcomed him with great courtesy, and said to him: - -'Your pleasing countenance, renowned Thyrsis, agrees well with what -loud fame in lands near and far proclaims of your worth and discretion: -and so, seeing that your writings have filled me with wonder and led -me to desire to know you and serve you, you can henceforward count and -treat me as a true friend.' - -'What I gain thereby,' replied Thyrsis, 'is so well known that in vain -would fame proclaim what the affection you bear me makes you say that -it proclaims of me, if I did not recognise the favour you do me in -seeking to place me in the number of your friends; and since between -those who are friends words of compliment must be superfluous, let ours -cease at this point, and let deeds give witness of our good-will.' - -'Mine will ever be to serve you,' replied Elicio, 'as you will see, oh -Thyrsis, if time or fortune place me in a position in any way suitable -for it; for that I now occupy, though I would not change it for another -offering greater advantages, is such that it scarcely leaves me free to -proffer what I desire.' - -'Since you set your desire on so lofty a goal as you do,' said Damon, -'I would hold it madness to endeavour to lower it to an object that -might be less; and so, friend Elicio, do not speak ill of the condition -in which you find yourself, for I assure you that if it were compared -with mine, I would find occasion to feel towards you more envy than -pity.' - -'It is quite clear, Damon,' said Elicio, 'that you have been away from -these banks for many a day, since you do not know what love makes me -feel here, and if it is not so, you cannot know or have experience of -Galatea's disposition, for if you had noted it, you would change into -pity the envy you might feel for me.' - -'What new thing can he expect from Galatea's disposition,' replied -Damon, 'who has experienced that of Amaryllis?' - -'If your stay on these banks,' answered Elicio, 'be as long as I wish, -you, Damon, will learn and see on them, and on others will hear, how -her cruelty and gentleness go in equal balance, extremes which end the -life of him whose misfortune has brought him to the pass of adoring -her.' - -'On our Henares's banks,' said Thyrsis at this point, 'Galatea had more -fame for beauty than for cruelty; but above all, it is said that she is -discreet; and if this be true, as it ought to be, from her discretion -springs self-knowledge, and from self-knowledge self-esteem, and from -self-esteem desire not to stray, and from desire not to stray comes -desire not to gratify herself. And you, Elicio, seeing how ill she -responds to your wishes, give the name of cruelty to that which you -should have called honourable reticence; and I do not wonder, for it -is, after all, the condition proper to lovers who find small favour.' - -'You would be right in what you have said, oh Thyrsis,' replied Elicio, -'if my desires were to wander from the path befitting her honour and -modesty; but if they are so measured, as is due to her worth and -reputation, what avails such disdain, such bitter and peevish replies, -such open withdrawal of the face from him who has set all his glory on -merely seeing it? Ah, Thyrsis, Thyrsis, how love must have placed you -on the summit of its joys, since with so calm a spirit you speak of its -effects! I do not know that what you say now goes well with what you -once said when you sang: - - "Alas, from what a wealth of hope I come - Unto a poor and faltering desire"-- - -with the rest you added to it.' - -Up to this point Erastro had been silent, watching what was passing -between the shepherds, wondering to see their gentle grace and bearing, -with the proofs each one gave of the great discretion he had. But -seeing that from step to step they had been brought to reasoning on -affairs of love, as one who was so experienced in them, he broke -silence, and said: - -'I quite believe, discreet shepherds, that long experience will have -shown you that one cannot reduce to a fixed term the disposition of -loving hearts, which, being governed by another's will, are exposed to -a thousand contrary accidents. And so, renowned Thyrsis, you have no -reason to wonder at what Elicio has said, and he as little to wonder at -what you say, or take for an example what he says you sang, still less -what I know you sang when you said: - - "The pallor and the weakness I display," - -wherein you clearly showed the woeful plight in which you then were; -for a little later there came to our huts the news of your bliss -celebrated in those verses of yours, which are so famous. They began, -if I remember rightly: - - "The dawn comes up, and from her fertile hand." - -Whence we clearly see the difference there is between one moment and -another, and how love like them is wont to change condition, making -him laugh to-day who wept yesterday, and him weep to-morrow who laughs -to-day. And since I have known her disposition so well, Galatea's -harshness and haughty disdain cannot succeed in destroying my hopes, -though I hope from her nothing save that she should be content that I -should love her.' - -'He who should not hope a fair issue to so loving and measured a desire -as you have shown, oh shepherd,' replied Damon, 'deserved renown -beyond that of a despairing lover; truly it is a great thing you seek -of Galatea! But tell me, shepherd--so may she grant it you--can it be -that you have your desire so well in bounds that it does not advance in -desire beyond what you have said.' - -'You may well believe him, friend Damon,' said Elicio, 'since Galatea's -worth gives no opportunity for aught else to be desired or hoped of -her, and even this is so difficult to obtain that at times in Erastro -hope is chilled, and in me grows cold, so that he counts as certain, -and I as sure, that sooner must death come than hope's fulfilment. But -as it is not right to welcome such honoured guests with the bitter -tales of our miseries, let them now cease, and let us betake ourselves -to the village, where you may rest from the heavy toil of the road, and -may with greater ease, if so you wish, learn our uneasiness.' - -All were pleased to fall in with Elicio's wish, and he and Erastro, -collecting their flocks once more, though it was some hours before the -wonted time, in company with the two shepherds, speaking on different -matters, though all concerned with love, journeyed towards the village. -But, as all Erastro's pastime was in playing and singing, so for -this reason, as also from the desire he had to learn if the two new -shepherds were as skilful as was said of them, in order to induce them -and invite them to do the same, he asked Elicio to play his rebeck, to -the sound of which he began to sing as follows: - -ERASTRO. - Before the light of yonder peaceful eyes, - Whereby the sun is lit the earth to light, - My soul is so inflamed, that, in despite, - I fear that death will soon secure the prize. - Yon clustered rays descending from the skies, - Sent by the Lord of Delos, are thus bright: - Such are the tresses of my heart's delight, - Whom, kneeling, I adore with litanies. - Oh radiant light, ray of the radiant sun, - Nay sun in very truth, to thee I pray, - That thou wouldst let me love,--this boon alone. - If jealous Heaven this boon to me deny, - Let me not die of grief though grief doth slay, - But grant, oh rays, that of a ray I die. - -The shepherds did not think ill of the sonnet, nor were they displeased -with Erastro's voice, which, though not one of the most exquisite, was -yet a tuneful one; and straightway Elicio, moved by Erastro's example, -bade him play his pipe, to the sound of which he repeated this sonnet: - -ELICIO. - Alas! that to the lofty purpose, born - Within the fastness of my loving mind, - All are opposed, to wit, Heaven, fire and wind, - Water and earth, and she that doth me scorn! - They are my foes; 'twere better I should mourn - My rashness, and the enterprise begun - Abandon. But the impulse who can shun - Of ruthless fate, by Love's persistence torn? - Though Heaven on high, though Love, though wind and fire, - Water and earth, and even my fair foe, - Each one, with might, and with my fate allied, - Should stay my bliss and scatter my desire, - My hope undoing,--yet, though hope should go, - I cannot cease to do what I have tried. - -As Elicio finished, straightway Damon, to the sound of the same pipe of -Erastro, began to sing in this wise: - -DAMON. - Softer than wax was I, when on my breast - I did imprint the image of the face - Of Amaryllis, cruel 'midst her grace, - Like to hard marble, or to savage beast. - 'Twas then Love set me in the loftiest - Sphere of his bliss, and bade sweet fortune come; - But now I fear that in the silent tomb - Alone shall my presumption find its rest. - Of hope did Love, as vine of elm, take hold - Securely, and was climbing up with speed, - When moisture failed, and its ascent was stayed. - 'Twas not the moisture of mine eyes: of old - Their tribute ever--Fortune this doth heed-- - Unto face, breast and earth, mine eyes have paid. - -Damon ceased, and Thyrsis, to the sound of the instruments of the three -shepherds, began to sing this sonnet: - -THYRSIS. - My faith broke through the net that death had spread; - To this pass have I come that I no more - Envy the highest and the richest store - Of happiness that man hath merited. - I saw thee, and this bliss was straightway born, - Fair Phyllis, unto whom fate gave for dower - To turn to good that which was bad before, - And win to laughter him who once did mourn. - E'en as the felon, when he doth espy - The royal face, the rigour of the law - Escapes--this ordinance is true indeed-- - E'en so doth death before thy presence fly, - Oh fairest of the fair, harm doth withdraw, - And leaveth life and fortune in its stead. - -As Thyrsis finished, all the instruments of the shepherds made such -pleasing music that it gave great joy to any who heard it, being -further aided from among the dense branches by a thousand kinds of -painted birds, which seemed as in chorus to give them back reply with -divine harmony. In this way they had gone on a stretch, when they came -to an ancient hermitage standing on the slope of a hillock, not so far -from the road but that they could hear the sound of a harp which some -one, it seemed, was playing within. Erastro, hearing this, said: - -'Stop, shepherds, for, as I think, we shall hear to-day what I have -wished to hear for days, namely, the voice of a graceful youth, who, -some twelve or fourteen days ago, came to spend within yon hermitage -a life harder than it seems to me his few years can bear. Sometimes -when I have passed this way, I have heard a harp being played and a -voice sounding, so sweet that it has filled me with the keenest desire -to listen to it; but I have always come at the moment he stayed his -song; and though by speaking to him I have managed to become his -friend, offering to his service all within my means and power, I have -never been able to prevail with him to disclose to me who he is, and -the causes which have moved him to come so young and settle in such -solitude and retirement.' - -What Erastro said about the young hermit, newly come there, filled -the shepherds with the same desire of knowing him as he had; and so -they agreed to approach the hermitage in such a way that without being -perceived they might be able to hear what he sang, before they came -to speak to him, and on doing this, they succeeded so well that they -placed themselves in a spot where, without being seen or perceived, -they heard him who was within uttering to the sound of his harp, verses -such as these: - - If Heaven, Love and Fortune have been pleased-- - The fault was not mine own-- - To set me thus in such a parlous state, - Vainly unto the air I make my moan, - Vainly on high was raised - Unto the moon the thought that seemed so great. - Oh cruel, cruel, fate! - By what mysterious and unwonted ways - Have my sweet joyous days - Been checked at such a pass in their career - That I am dying and e'en life do fear! - - Enraged against myself I burn and glow - To see that I can bear - Such pains, and yet my heart breaks not; the wind - Receiveth not my soul, though vital air - Amidst my bitter woe - At last withdraws, and leaveth naught behind. - And there anew I find - That hope doth lend its aid to give me strength, - And, though but feigned, doth strengthen life at length, - 'Tis not Heaven's pity, for it doth ordain - That to long life be given longer pain. - - The hapless bosom of a lovèd friend - In turn made tender mine, - At once I undertook the dread emprize. - Oh sweet and bitter plight none can divine! - Oh deed that ne'er shall end! - Oh strategy that madness did devise! - To win for him the prize - How bounteous and how kind Love did appear, - To me how full of fear - And loyalty, and yet how covetous! - To more than this a friend constraineth us. - - An unjust guerdon for a wish as just - At every step we see - By a distrustful fortune's hand bestowed, - And, traitorous Love, by thine; we know of thee - That 'tis thy joy and trust - That lovers e'en in life should bear death's load. - The living flame that glowed-- - Oh may it kindle in thy pinions light - And may, in thy despite, - To ashes sink each good and evil dart, - Or turn, when thou dost loose it, 'gainst thine heart. - - How comes it then, by what deceit or wile, - By what strange wanderings, - Didst thou possession take of me by storm? - How 'midst my longings after higher things - Within the heart, from guile - Yet free, didst thou my healthy will transform, - False traitor to my harm? - Who is so wise as patiently to see - How that I entered, free - And safe, to sing thy glories and thy pains, - And now upon my neck do feel thy chains? - - 'Twere right that I should of myself complain, - Nor to thee give the blame, - That 'gainst thy fire I did not strive to fight. - I yielded, and the wind, amidst my shame, - That slept, I roused amain - Even the wind of chance with furious might. - A just decree and right - Hath Heaven pronounced against me that I die; - This only fear have I, - Amidst my luckless fate and hapless doom, - Misfortune will not end e'en in the tomb. - - Thou, sweetest friend, and thou, my sweetest foe, - Timbrio, Nisida fair, - Happy and hapless both? What unjust power - Of ruthless fate, what unrelenting star, - Enemy of my woe, - Hard and unkind, hath in this evil hour - Parted us evermore? - Oh wretched and unstable lot of man! - How soon to sudden pain - Is changed our joy, that swiftly flies away, - And cloudy night doth follow cloudless day! - - What man will put his trust with might and main - In the instability - And in the change, pervading human things? - On hasty pinions time away doth flee - And draweth in its train - The hope of him who weeps, and him who sings. - Whenever Heaven brings - Its favour, 'tis to him, in holy love - Raising to Heaven above - The soul dissolved in heavenly passion's fire, - To him that doth nor loss nor gain desire. - - Here, gracious Lord, with all my power I raise - To holy Heaven on high - My hands, my eyes, my thoughts, in prayer always; - My soul doth hope thereby - To see its ceaseless mourning turned to praise. - -With a deep sigh, the secluded youth, who was within the hermitage, -ended his mournful song, and the shepherds, perceiving that he was not -going on, without more delay, went in all together, and saw there, -at one end, sitting on a hard stone, a comely and graceful youth, -apparently two and twenty years of age, clad in a rough kersey, his -feet unshod and his body girt with a coarse rope, which served him as -belt. His head was drooping on one side, one hand clutched the portion -of the tunic over his heart, the other arm fell limply on the other -side. As they saw him in this plight, and as he had made no movement -on the entry of the shepherds, they clearly recognised that he had -fainted, as was the truth, for his deep brooding over his sorrows often -brought him to such a pass. Erastro went up to him, and seizing him -roughly by the arm, made him come to himself, though so dazed that he -seemed to be waking from a heavy sleep; which tokens of grief caused no -small grief in those who witnessed it, and straightway Erastro said to -him: - -'What is it, sir, that your troubled breast feels? Do not fail to tell -it, for you have before you those who will not refuse any trouble to -give relief to yours.' - -'These are not the first offers you have made me,' replied the young -man with voice somewhat faint, 'nor yet would they be the last I would -try to make use of, if I could; but fortune has brought me to such a -pass, that neither can they avail me, nor can I do justice to them more -than in will. This you can take in return for the good you offer me; -and if you wish to learn aught else concerning me, time, which conceals -nothing, will tell you more than I could wish.' - -'If you leave it to time to satisfy me in what you tell me,' replied -Erastro, 'to such payment small gratitude is due, since time, in our -despite, brings into the market-place the deepest secret of our hearts.' - -Thereupon the rest of the shepherds all asked him to tell them the -cause of his sorrow, especially Thyrsis, who, with powerful arguments, -persuaded him and gave him to understand, that there is no evil in -this life but brings with it its cure, unless death, that interrupts -man's course, opposes it. Thereto he added other words, which moved the -obstinate boy with his to satisfy them all on what they wished to learn -from him: and so he said to them: - -'Though for me it were better, my pleasant friends, to live the -little that remains to me of life without friendship, and to retire -to a greater solitude than that in which I am, yet, not to show -myself irresponsive to the good-will you have shown me, I decide to -tell you all that I think will be sufficient, and the passes through -which fickle fortune has brought me to the strait in which I am. -But as it seems to me that it is now somewhat late, and that, as my -misfortunes are many, it might be possible for night to come on before -I have told you them, it will be well for us all to go to the village -together, since it causes me no further inconvenience to make the -journey to-night I had determined on to-morrow, which is compulsory -for me, since from your village I am provided with what I need for my -sustenance; and on the way, as best we can, I will inform you of my -adversities.' - -All approved of what the young hermit said, and setting him in their -midst, they turned with loitering steps to follow the road to the -village; and straightway the sorrowing hermit, with tokens of great -grief, began in this wise the tale of his woes: - -'In the ancient and famous city of Xeres, whose inhabitants are -favoured of Minerva and Mars, was born Timbrio, a valiant knight, -and if I had to relate his virtues and nobility of soul, I would set -myself a difficult task. It is enough to know that, whether by his -great goodness, or by the power of the stars which drew me to it, I -sought in every possible way to be his particular friend; and in this -Heaven was so kind to me, that those who knew us, almost forgetting the -name of Timbrio and that of Silerio (which is mine) merely called us -the two friends, and we, by our constant converse and friendly deeds -caused this to be no idle opinion. In this wise we two passed our -youthful years in incredible joy and happiness, engaging ourselves -now in the field in the pastime of the chase, now in the city in that -of honourable Mars, until, one day (of the many unlucky days that -hostile time has made me see in the course of my life), there happened -to my friend Timbrio a weighty quarrel with a powerful knight, an -inhabitant of the same city. The dispute came to such a pass that -the knight remained wounded in his honour and Timbrio was obliged -to absent himself, to give an opportunity for the furious discord -to cease, which was beginning to kindle between the two families. -He left a letter written to his enemy, informing him that he would -find him in Italy, in the city of Milan or in Naples, whenever, as a -knight, he should wish to have satisfaction for the insult done him. -With this the factions between the kinsmen of both ceased: and it was -ordained that the offended knight, who was called Pransiles, should -challenge Timbrio to equal and mortal combat, and that, on finding a -safe field for the combat, he should inform Timbrio. My luckless fate -further ordained that, at the time this happened, I should find myself -so failing in health, that I scarce could rise from my bed. And from -this chance, I lost that of following my friend wherever he might be -going, who, on parting, took his leave of me with no small discontent, -charging me, on recovering strength, to seek him, for that I would -find him in the city of Naples; and he left me with greater pain than -I can now express to you. But at the end of a few days (the desire I -had to see him prevailing on me more than the weakness that wearied -me), I set myself straightway on the journey; and, in order that I -might accomplish it with more speed and safety, fortune offered me the -convenience of four galleys, which were lying ready equipped off the -famous isle of Cádiz for departure to Italy. I embarked on one of them, -and with a prosperous wind we soon discovered the Catalán shores; and -when we had cast anchor in a harbour there, I, being somewhat weary of -the sea, first making sure that the galleys were not leaving there that -night, disembarked with only a friend and a servant of mine. I do not -think it could have been midnight, when the sailors and those that had -the galleys in charge, seeing that the serenity of the sky betokened -a calm, or a prosperous wind, so as not to lose the good opportunity -offered to them, at the second watch made the signal for departure; -and weighing anchor, with much speed they set their oars to the smooth -sea, and their sails to the gentle wind, and it was done as I say with -such haste, that for all the haste I made to return to embark, I was -not in time. And so I had to remain on the shore with the annoyance -he can imagine, who has passed through ordinary occurrences of the -kind, for I was badly supplied with everything that was necessary to -continue my journey by land. But, reflecting that little remedy was -to be hoped from remaining there, I determined to return to Barcelona, -where, as being a larger city, it might be possible to find someone to -supply me with what I needed, writing to Xeres or Seville as regards -the payment. The morning broke on me, whilst engaged in these thoughts, -and, determined to put them into practice, I waited till the day should -be more advanced; and when on the point of departing, I perceived a -great sound on land, and all the people running to the principal street -of the place. And when I asked some one what it was, he replied to -me: "Go, sir, to that corner, where you will learn what you want from -the voice of the crier." I did so, and the first object on which I -set eyes was a lofty crucifix, and a great mob of people, signs that -some one condemned to death was coming among them; and all this was -proved to me by the voice of the crier, declaring that justice ordered -a man to be hanged for having been a robber and a highwayman. When the -man came to me, I straightway recognised that he was my good friend -Timbrio, coming on foot with fetters on his hands, and a rope round -his throat, his eyes riveted on the crucifix he carried before him. He -was speaking and protesting to the priests who were going with him, -that, by the account he thought, within a few short hours, to render -to the true God, whose image he had before his eyes, he had never, in -all the course of his life, committed aught for which he deserved to -suffer publicly so shameful a death; and he asked all to ask the judges -to give him some term, to prove how innocent he was of that which they -accused him of. Let it here be imagined, if imagination could raise -itself so high, how I would remain at the terrible sight offered to my -eyes. I know not what to say to you, gentlemen, save that I remained so -amazed and beside myself, and so bereft of all my senses, that I must -have seemed a marble statue to anyone who saw me at that moment. But -now that the confused murmur of the people, the raised voices of the -criers, the piteous words of Timbrio, and the consolatory words of the -priests, and the undoubted recognition of my good friend, had brought -me from my first amazement, and the seething blood came to give aid -to my fainting heart, awakening in it the wrath befitting the crying -vengeance for Timbrio's wrong, without regarding the danger I incurred, -but only that of Timbrio, to see if I could set him free or follow him -to the life beyond, fearing but little to lose mine, I laid hand on my -sword; and, with more than ordinary fury, forced my way through the -confused crowd, till I came to where Timbrio was. He, not knowing if -so many swords had been unsheathed on his behalf, was watching what -was going on with perplexed and anguished mind, until I said to him: -"Where, Timbrio, is the strength of your valorous breast? What do you -hope, or what do you wait for? Why not avail yourself of the present -opportunity? seek, true friend, to save your life whilst mine forms a -shield against the injustice, which I think is being done you here." -These words of mine and Timbrio's recognition of me caused him to -forget all fear and to break the bonds or fetters from his hands; but -all his ardour would have availed little, had not the priests, moved -with compassion, aided his wish. These seized him bodily, and despite -those who sought to hinder it, entered with him into a church hard by, -leaving me in the midst of all the officers of justice, who with great -persistence endeavoured to seize me, as at last they did, since my -strength alone was not capable of resisting so many strengths combined; -and with more violence than in my opinion my offence deserved, they -took me to the public gaol, wounded with two wounds. My boldness and -the fact that Timbrio had escaped increased my fault, and the judges' -anger; they, weighing carefully the crime committed by me, deeming it -just that I should die, straightway pronounced the cruel sentence and -awaited another day to execute it. This sad news came to Timbrio there -in the church where he was, and as I afterwards learned, my sentence -caused him more emotion than his own death-sentence had done; and to -free me from it, he again offered to surrender himself once more to -the power of the law; but the priests advised him that that was of -little avail, nay rather, was adding evil to evil and misfortune to -misfortune, since his surrender would not bring about my release, for -that it could not take place without my being punished for the fault -committed. Not a few arguments were needed to persuade Timbrio not to -give himself up to justice; but he calmed himself by deciding in his -mind to do for me next day what I had done for him, in order to pay -me in the same coin or die in the attempt. I was informed of all his -intentions by a priest who came to confess me, through whom I sent him -word that the best remedy my calamity could have was that he should -escape and seek with all speed to inform the viceroy of Barcelona of -all that had happened, before the judges of that place should execute -judgment on him. I also learned the reason why my friend Timbrio was -consigned to bitter punishment, as the same priest I have mentioned -to you told me; it was that, as Timbrio came journeying through the -kingdom of Catalonia, on leaving Perpignan, he fell in with a number of -brigands, who had as lord and chief a valiant Catalán gentleman, who by -reason of certain enmities was in the band--as it is the time-honoured -custom of that kingdom for those who have suffered from an enemy, -whenever they are persons of mark, to join one, and to inflict all the -evil they can, not only on lives, but on property, a practice opposed -to all Christianity, and worthy of all commiseration. It happened -then that while the brigands were busied in robbing Timbrio of what -he had with him, that moment their lord and captain came up, and as -after all he was a gentleman, he did not wish that any wrong should -be done to Timbrio before his eyes; but rather, deeming him a man of -worth and talents, he made him a thousand courteous offers, asking -him to remain with him that night in a place near by, for that on the -morrow he would give him a safe-conduct so that without any fear he -might pursue his journey until he left that province. Timbrio could -not but do what the courteous gentleman asked of him, constrained by -the good offices received from him; they went off together and came -to a little spot where they were joyously received by the people of -the place. But fortune, which up till then had jested with Timbrio, -ordained that that same night a company of soldiers, gathered together -for this very purpose, should fall in with the brigands: and having -surprised them, they easily routed them. And though they could not -seize the captain, they seized and killed many others, and one of the -prisoners was Timbrio, whom they took for a notorious robber in that -band, and as you may imagine, he must undoubtedly have much resembled -him, since, though the other prisoners testified that he was not the -man they thought, telling the truth about all that had happened, yet -malice had such power in the breasts of the judges that without further -inquiry they sentenced him to death. And this would have been carried -out, had not Heaven, that favours just purposes, ordained that the -galleys should depart, and I remain on land to do what I have so far -been telling you I did. Timbrio was in the church, and I in gaol, -arranging that he should set out that night for Barcelona, and while -I was waiting to see where the rage of the offended judges would end, -Timbrio and I were freed from our misfortune amidst another yet greater -that befell them. But would that Heaven had been kind and wreaked on -me alone the fury of its wrath, if but it had been averted from that -poor unfortunate people who placed their wretched necks beneath the -edges of a thousand barbarous swords. It would be a little more than -midnight, an hour suited for wicked onslaughts, at which the wearied -world is wont to yield its wearied limbs to the arms of sweet sleep, -when suddenly there arose among all the people a confused hubbub of -voices crying: "To arms, to arms, the Turks are in the land." The -echoes of these sad cries--who doubts but that they caused terror -in the breasts of the women and even set consternation in the brave -hearts of the men? I know not what to say to you, sirs, save that in -an instant the wretched land began to burn so greedily that the very -stones with which the houses were built seemed but to offer fitting -fuel to the kindled fire that was consuming all. By the light of the -raging flames the barbarous scimetars were seen flashing and the white -turbans appearing of the Turks, who, all aflame, were breaking down the -doors of the houses with axes or hatchets of hard steel, and entering -therein, were coming out laden with Christian spoils. One carried the -wearied mother, another the tender little son, who with faint and weak -groans pleaded, the mother for her son, and the son for his mother; and -one I know there was who with profane hand stayed the fulfilment of -the rightful desire of the chaste maiden newly-wed and of the hapless -husband, before whose weeping eyes mayhap he saw culled the fruit the -ill-starred one was thinking in a short time to enjoy. So great was the -confusion, so many the cries and minglings of these different voices -that they caused much terror. The savage and devilish rabble, seeing -what little resistance was made them, dared to enter the hallowed -temples, and lay infidel hands on the holy relics, placing in their -bosoms the gold with which they were adorned, and dashing them to the -ground with loathsome contempt. Little availed the priest his holiness, -the friar his refuge, the old man his snowy hair, the boy his gallant -youth, or the little child his simple innocence, for from all those -unbelieving dogs carried off booty. They, after burning the houses, -robbing the temple, deflowering the maidens, and slaying the defenders, -at the time the dawn was coming, more wearied than sated with what -they had done, returned without any hindrance to their vessels, having -already loaded them with all the best the village contained, leaving it -desolate and without inhabitant, for they were taking with them nearly -all the people and the rest had taken refuge in the mountain. Who at so -sad a sight could have kept his hands still and his eyes dry? But, ah! -our life is so full of woes that, for all the mournful disaster I have -related to you, there were Christian hearts that rejoiced, even those -of the men in the gaol who, amidst the general unhappiness, recovered -their own happiness, for, pretending to go and defend the village, -they broke the gates of the prison, and set themselves free, each one -seeking not to attack the enemy, but to save himself, and amongst them -I enjoyed the freedom so dearly gained. And seeing there was no one -to face the enemy, through fear of falling into their clutches, or -returning to the clutches of the prison, forsaking the wasted village, -with no small pain at what I had seen, and with that caused by my -wounds, I followed a man who told me he would bring me safely to a -monastery which was in those mountains, where I would be cured of my -hurts and even defended, if they sought to seize me again. In a word -I followed him, as I have told you, in the desire to learn what my -friend Timbrio's fortune had wrought; he, as I afterwards learned, had -escaped with some wounds, and followed over the mountain another road -different from that I took; he stopped at the port of Rosas, where he -remained some days, seeking to learn what fate had been mine, and at -last, not learning any news, he went away in a ship and came with a -favouring wind to the great city of Naples. I returned to Barcelona, -and there furnished myself with what I needed; and then, being healed -of my wounds, I resumed my journey, and, no misadventure happening to -me, came to Naples, where I found Timbrio ill; and such was the joy we -both felt at seeing each other, that I have not the power to describe -it properly to you now. There we told each other of our lives, and of -all that had happened to us up to that moment; but this my pleasure was -all watered by seeing Timbrio not so well as I could wish, nay rather -so ill, and with so strange a disease, that if I had not come at that -moment, I might have come in time to perform the rites of his death, -and not to celebrate the joys of seeing him. After he had learnt from -me all he wanted, with tears in his eyes he said to me: "Ah, friend -Silerio! I truly think that Heaven seeks to add to the load of my -misfortunes, so that, by giving me health through your safety, I may -remain every day under greater obligation to serve you." These words -of Timbrio's moved me; but, as they seemed to me courtesies so little -used between us, they filled me with wonder. And not to weary you in -telling you word for word what I replied to him, and what he answered -further, I shall only tell you that Timbrio, unhappy man, was in love -with a notable lady of that city, whose parents were Spaniards, though -she had been born in Naples. Her name was Nisida, and her beauty so -great, that I make bold to say that nature summed up in her its highest -perfections; and in her modesty and beauty were so united, that what -the one enflamed the other chilled, and the desires her grace raised to -the loftiest heaven, her modest propriety brought down to the lowest -depths of earth. From this cause Timbrio was as poor in hope as rich -in thoughts; and above all failing in health, and in the plight of -ending his days without disclosing his state--such was the fear and -reverence he had conceived for the fair Nisida. But after I had fully -learnt his disease, and had seen Nisida, and considered the quality -and nobility of her parents, I determined to waive for him property, -life and honour, and more, if more I had in my power to bestow. And so -I employed an artifice, the strangest heard or read of up till now; -which was, that I decided to dress up as a buffoon, and with a guitar -to enter Nisida's house, which, as her parents were, as I have said, -among the principal people of the city, was frequented by many other -buffoons. This decision seemed good to Timbrio, and straightway he left -to the hands of my skill all his happiness. Forthwith I had several -elegant costumes made, of various kinds, and, putting them on, I began -to rehearse my new character before Timbrio, who laughed not a little -at seeing me thus clothed in buffoon's garb; and to see if my skill -equalled the dress, he told me to say something to him, pretending -that he was a great prince, and I newly come to visit him. And if -memory does not fail me, and you, sirs, are not tired of listening to -me, I will tell you what I sang to him then, as it was the first time.' - -All said that nothing would give them greater pleasure, than to learn -in detail all the issue of his affair, and so they bade him not to fail -to tell them anything, however trivial it might be. - -'Since you give me this permission,' said the hermit, 'I have no desire -to fail to tell you how I began to give examples of my foolery, for it -was with these verses that I sang to Timbrio, imagining him to be a -great lord to whom I was saying them: - -SILERIO. - From a prince whose path is true, - Levelled by a rule so right, - _What, save deeds that Heaven delight, - Can we hope from him to view?_ - - Neither in this present age, - Nor in times of long ago, - Hath a State been ruled, I know, - By a prince who is so sage, - One whose zeal is measured true - By the Christian rule of right:-- - _What, save deeds that Heaven delight, - Can we hope from him to view?_ - - For another's good he toils, - Mercy ever in his eye, - In his bosom equity, - Seeking ne'er another's spoils: - Unto him the most, 'tis true, - In the world the least is, quite:-- - _What, save deeds that Heaven delight, - Can we hope from him to view?_ - - And thy name for kindly Love, - Which doth raise itself to Heaven, - That a holy soul hath given - Unto thee, doth clearly prove - That thy course thou keepest true, - And art loyal to Heaven's right:-- - _What, save deeds that Heaven delight, - Can we hope from him to view?_ - - When a prince's Christian breast - Shrinketh aye from cruelty, - Righteousness and clemency - Are his guardians trustiest: - When a prince, where none pursue, - Towards the sky, doth raise his flight:-- - _What, save deeds that Heaven delight, - Can we hope from him to view?_ - -'These and other things of more jest and laughter I then sang to -Timbrio, seeking to adapt the spirit and bearing of my body, so that -I might in every way show myself a practised buffoon: and so well -did I get on in the part, that in a few days I was known by all the -chief people in the city, and the fame of the Spanish buffoon flew -through it all, until at last they desired to see me in the house of -Nisida's father, which desire I would have fulfilled for them with -much readiness, if I had not purposely waited to be asked. But at -length I could not excuse myself from going there one day when they -had a banquet, where I saw more closely the just cause Timbrio had for -suffering, and that which Heaven gave me to rob me of happiness all -the days I shall remain in this life. I saw Nisida, Nisida I saw, that -I might see no more, nor is there more to see after having seen her. -Oh mighty power of love, against which our mighty powers avail but -little! can it be that in an instant, in a moment, thou shouldst bring -the props and armaments of my loyalty to such a pass, as to level them -all with the ground! Ah, if only the thought of who I was had stayed -with me a little for aid, the friendship I owed to Timbrio, Nisida's -great worth, and the ignominious costume in which I found myself, which -all hindered the hope of winning her (the staff wherewith love, in the -beginnings of love, advances or retires) from springing up together -with the new and loving desire that had sprung up in me. In a word I -saw the beauty I have told you, and since to see her was of such moment -to me, I sought ever to win the friendship of her parents, and of all -her household; and this by playing the wit and the man of breeding, -playing my part with the greatest discretion and grace in my power. And -when a gentleman who was at table that day asked me to sing something -in praise of Nisida's beauty, fortune willed that I should call to mind -some verses, which I had made, many days before, for another all but -similar occasion; and adopting them for the present one, I repeated -them to this effect: - -SILERIO. - 'Tis from thine own self we see, - Lady fair, how kind is Heaven, - For it hath, in giving thee, - Unto earth an image given, - Of its veiled radiancy. - Easily we come to know, - If it could not more bestow - And thou couldst no more desire, - That he highly must aspire, - Who aspires your praise to show. - - All the sovereign, matchless grace - Of that beauty from afar, - Which to Heaven doth us raise, - Tongue of man could not but mar,-- - Let the tongue of Heaven praise, - Saying,--and 'tis not in vain-- - That the soul which doth contain - Such a being for its pride, - More than aught on earth beside - Should the lovely veil attain. - - From the sun she took her hair, - From the peaceful Heaven her brow, - Of her eyes the light so fair - From a radiant star which now - Shineth not when they are there; - From the cochineal and the snow, - Boldly and with might, I trow, - Did she steal their lovely hue, - For to thy fair cheek is due - The perfections that they show. - - Teeth and lips of ivory - And of coral, whence a spring - Issues, rich in fantasy, - Full of wisest reasoning, - And celestial harmony; - But of marble stubbornest - She hath made her lovely breast, - Yet in truth we see that earth - Is made better by her worth, - E'en as Heaven itself is blest. - -'With these and other things that I then sang, all were so charmed with -me, and especially Nisida's parents, that they offered me all I might -need, and asked me to let no day go by without visiting them; and so, -without my purpose being discovered or imagined, I came to achieve -my first design, which was to expedite my entrance into the house of -Nisida, who enjoyed extremely my bright ways. But now that the lapse -of many days, and my frequent converse and the great friendship all -that household showed me, had removed some shadows from the excessive -fear I felt at disclosing my intent to Nisida, I determined to see -how far went the fortune of Timbrio, whose only hope for it lay in -my solicitude. But woe is me! I was then more ready to ask a salve -for my wound than health for another's; for Nisida's grace, beauty, -discretion, and modesty had so wrought in my soul that it was placed -in no less an extreme of grief and love than that of hapless Timbrio. -To your discreet imagination I leave it to picture what a heart could -feel in which there fought, on the one hand, the laws of friendship, -and, on the other, the inviolable laws of Cupid; for, if those obliged -it not to go beyond what they and reason asked of it, these constrained -it to set store by what was due to its happiness. These attacks and -struggles afflicted me in such wise that, without procuring another's -health I began to have fears for my own, and to grow so weak and pale -that I caused general compassion in all that saw me, and those who -showed it most were Nisida's parents; and even she herself, with pure -and Christian sympathy, often asked me to tell her the cause of my -disease, offering me all that was necessary for its cure. "Ah!" would -I say to myself whenever Nisida made me such offers, "with what ease, -fair Nisida, could your hand cure the evil your beauty has wrought! -but I boast myself so good a friend that, though I counted my cure as -certain as I count it impossible and uncertain, it would be impossible -for me to accept it." And since these thoughts at such moments -disturbed my fancy, I did not succeed in making any reply to Nisida; -whereat she and a sister of hers, who was called Blanca (less in years, -though not less in discretion and beauty than Nisida), were amazed, -and with increasing desire to know the origin of my sadness, with many -importunities asked me to conceal from them nought of my grief. Seeing, -then, that fortune offered me the opportunity of putting into practice -what my cunning had brought so far, once, when by chance the fair -Nisida and her sister found themselves alone, and returned anew to ask -what they had asked so often, I said to them: "Think not, ladies, that -the silence I have up till now kept in not telling you the cause of the -pain you imagine I feel has been caused by my small desire to obey you, -since it is very clear that if my lowly state has any happiness in this -life, it is to have thereby succeeded in coming to know you, and to -serve you as retainer. The only cause has been the thought that, though -I reveal it, it will not serve for more than to give you grief, seeing -how far away is its cure. But now that it is forced upon me to satisfy -you in this, you must know, ladies, that in this city is a gentleman, -a native of my own country, whom I hold as master, refuge, and friend, -the most generous, discreet, and courtly man that may be found far and -wide. He is here, away from his dear native land, by reason of certain -quarrels which befell him there and forced him to come to this city, -believing that, if there in his own land he left enemies, here in a -foreign land friends would not fail him. But his belief has turned out -so mistaken that one enemy alone, whom, without knowing how, he has -made here for himself, has placed him in such a pass that if Heaven do -not help him he will end his friendships and enmities by ending his -life. And as I know the worth of Timbrio (for this is the name of the -gentleman whose misfortune I am relating to you), and know what the -world will lose in losing him and what I shall lose if I lose him, -I give the tokens of feeling you have seen, and even they are small -compared to what the danger in which Timbrio is placed ought to move me -to. I know well that you will desire to know, ladies, who is the enemy -who has placed so valorous a gentleman as he whom I have depicted to -you in such a pass; but I also know that, in naming him to you, you -will not wonder save that he has not yet destroyed him and slain him. -His enemy is love, the universal destroyer of our peace and prosperity; -this fierce enemy took possession of his heart. On entering this city -Timbrio beheld a fair lady of singular worth and beauty, but so high -placed and so modest that the hapless one has never dared to reveal -to her his thought." To this point had I come when Nisida said to me: -"Truly, Astor," for this was my name for the nonce, "I know not if I -can believe that that gentleman is as valorous and discreet as you -say, since he has allowed himself so easily to surrender to an evil -desire so newly born, yielding himself so needlessly to the arms of -despair; and though I understand but little these effects of love, yet -it seems to me that it is folly and weakness for him who is cast down -by them to fail to reveal his thoughts to her who inspires it in him, -though she be of all the worth conceivable. For what shame can result -to her from knowing that she is well loved, or to him what greater -evil from her harsh and petulant reply than the death he himself -brings on himself by being silent? It would not be right that because -a judge has a reputation for sternness, anyone should fail to allege -proof of his claim. But let us suppose that the death take place of a -lover as silent and timid as that friend of yours; tell me, would you -call the lady with whom he was in love cruel? No indeed, for one can -scarcely relieve the need which does not come to one's knowledge, nor -does it fall within one's duty to seek to learn it so as to relieve -it. So, forgive me, Astor, but the deeds of that friend of yours do -not make very true the praises you give him." When I heard such words -from Nisida, straightway I could have wished by mine to reveal to -her all the secret of my breast, but, as I understood the goodness -and simplicity with which she expressed them, I had to check myself, -waiting for a better and more private opportunity, and thus I replied -to her: "When the affairs of love, fair Nisida, are regarded with free -eyes, follies so great are seen in them that they are no less worthy of -laughter than of pity: but if the soul finds itself entangled in love's -subtle net, then the feelings are so fettered and so beside their -wonted selves, that memory merely serves as treasurer and guardian of -the object the eyes have regarded, the understanding is of use only in -searching into and learning the worth of her whom it loves well, and -the will in consenting that the memory and understanding should not -busy themselves with aught else: and so the eyes see like a silvered -mirror, for they make everything larger. Now hope increases when -they are favoured, now fear when they are cast down; and thus what -has happened to Timbrio, happens to many, that deeming at first very -high the object to which their eyes were raised, they lose the hope -of attaining it, but not in such wise that love does not say to them -there within the soul: Who knows? it might be; and thereat hope goes, -as the saying is, between two waters, while if it should forsake them -altogether, love would flee with it. And hence it arises that the heart -of the afflicted lover walks between fearing and daring, and without -venturing to tell it, he braces himself up, and presses together his -wound, hoping, though he knows not from whom, for the remedy from which -he sees himself so far away. In this very plight I have found Timbrio, -though, in spite of all, he has, at my persuasion, written to the lady -for whom he is dying, a letter which he gave to me that I might give it -to her and see if there appeared in it anything in any way unseemly, -so that I might correct it. He charged me also to seek the means of -placing it in his lady's hands, which, I think, will be impossible, -not because I will not hazard it, since the least I will hazard to -serve him will be life, but because it seems to me that I shall not -find an opportunity to give it." "Let us see it," said Nisida, "for -I wish to see how discreet lovers write." Straightway I drew from my -bosom a letter which had been written some days before, in the hope of -an opportunity for Nisida to see it, and fortune offering to me this -one, I showed it to her. As I had read it many times, it remained in my -memory, and its words were these: - - TIMBRIO TO NISIDA. - -"I had determined, fair lady, that my ill-starred end might declare -to you who I was, since it seemed to me better that you should praise -my silence in death than blame my boldness in life; but as I think it -befits my soul to leave this world in favour with you, so that in the -next love may not deny it the reward for what it has suffered, I make -you cognisant of the state in which your rare beauty has placed me. It -is such that, though I could indicate it, I would not obtain its cure, -since for small things no one should make bold to offend your exalted -worth, whereby, and by your honourable generosity I hope to renew life -to serve you, or to win death to offend you never more." - -'Nisida was listening with much attention to this letter, and, when -she had heard it all, said: "The lady to whom this letter is sent has -naught to complain of, unless, from pure pride, she has become prudish, -a failing from which the greater part of the ladies in this city are -not free. But nevertheless, Astor, do not fail to give it to her, -since, as I have already told you, more evil cannot be expected from -her reply, than that the evil you say your friend suffers now should -become worse. And to encourage you the more, I wish to assure you that -there is no woman so coy and so on the alert to watch over her honour -that it grieves her much to see and learn that she is loved, for then -she knows that the opinion she holds of herself is not vain, while it -would be the contrary if she saw she was wooed by none." "I know well, -lady, that what you say is true," I replied, "but I am afraid that, -if I make bold to give it, it must at least cost me the refusal of -admittance henceforward into that house, whereat there would come to -me no less hurt than to Timbrio." "Seek not, Astor," replied Nisida, -"to confirm the sentence which the judge has not yet given. Be of good -courage, for this on which you venture is no fierce conflict." "Would -to Heaven, fair Nisida," I answered, "that I saw myself in that pass, -for more readily would I offer my breast to the danger and fierceness -of a thousand opposing arms than my hand to give this loving letter to -her who, I fear, being offended by it, must hurl upon my shoulders the -punishment another's fault deserves. But, in spite of these objections, -I intend to follow, lady, the counsel you have given me, though I -shall wait for a time when fear shall not occupy my feelings as much -as now. Meanwhile I entreat you to pretend that you are the one to -whom this letter is sent, and give me some reply to take to Timbrio, -in order that by this deceit he may be comforted a little, and time -and opportunities may reveal to me what I am to do." "A poor artifice -you would employ," answered Nisida, "for, granted that I were now to -give, in another's name, some soft or disdainful reply, do you not -see that time, that discloses our ends, will clear up the deceit, and -Timbrio will be more angry with you than satisfied? Especially as since -I have not hitherto replied to such letters, I would not wish to begin -by giving replies in a feigned and lying manner; but, though I know I -am going contrary to what I owe to myself, if you promise to tell me -who the lady is, I will tell you what to say to your friend, and such -words that he will be pleased for the nonce, and even though afterwards -things turn out contrary to what he thinks, the lie will not be found -out thereby." "Do not ask this of me, Nisida," I answered, "for to tell -you her name places me in confusion as great as I would be placed in if -I gave her the letter. Suffice it to know that she is of high degree, -and that, without doing you any detriment, she is not inferior to you -in beauty, and saying this, it seems to me, I praise her more than all -women born." "I am not surprised that you say this of me," said Nisida, -"since, with men of your condition and calling, to flatter is their -business; but, leaving all this on one side, as I do not wish you to -lose the comfort of so good a friend, I advise you to tell him that you -went to give the letter to his lady, and that you have held with her -all the discourses you have held with me, without omitting anything, -and how she read your letter, and the encouragement she gave you to -take it to his lady, thinking she was not the one to whom it came, and -that, though you did not make bold to declare everything, you have come -to this conclusion from her words that, when she learns she is the -one for whom the letter came, the deceit and the undeceiving will not -cause her much pain. In this way he will receive some solace in his -trouble, and afterwards, on revealing your intention to his lady, you -can reply to Timbrio what she replies to you, since, up to the moment -she knows it, this lie remains in force, and the truth of what may -follow, without to-day's deceit interfering." I was left marvelling -at Nisida's discreet project, and indeed not without mistrust of the -honesty of my own artifice; and so, kissing her hands for the good -counsel, and agreeing with her that I was to give her a particular -account of whatever happened in this affair, I went and told Timbrio -all that had happened to me with Nisida. Thence came it that hope came -into his soul and turned anew to sustain him, banishing from his heart -the clouds of chilly fear that up till then had kept him in gloom; and -all this pleasure was increased by my promising him at every step that -my steps should only be devoted to his service, and that when next I -found myself with Nisida, he should win the game of skill with as fair -a success as his thoughts deserved. One thing I have forgotten to tell -you, that all the time I was talking with Nisida and her sister, the -younger sister never spoke a word, but with a strange silence ever -hung on mine; and I can tell you, sirs, that, if she was silent, it -was not because she could not speak with all discretion and grace, for -in these two sisters nature showed all she has in her power to bestow. -Nevertheless, I know not if I should tell you that I would that Heaven -had denied me the happiness of having known them, especially Nisida, -the beginning and end of all my misfortune; but what can I do, if that -which the fates have ordained cannot be stayed by human means? I loved, -love, and shall love Nisida well, yet without hurt to Timbrio, as my -wearied tongue has well shown, for I never spoke to her, but it was on -Timbrio's behalf, ever concealing, with more than ordinary discretion, -my own pain, so as to cure another's. It happened then, that as -Nisida's beauty was so engraven on my soul from the first moment my -eyes beheld her, being unable to keep so rich a treasure concealed in -my breast, whenever I found myself at times alone or apart, I used to -reveal it in some loving and mournful songs under the veil of a feigned -name. And so one night, thinking that neither Timbrio nor anyone else -was listening to me, to comfort somewhat my wearied spirit, in a -retired apartment, to the accompaniment only of a lute, I sang some -verses, which, as they placed me in the direst turmoil, I shall have to -repeat to you. They were as follows: - -SILERIO. - What labyrinth is this that doth contain - My foolish and exalted fantasy? - Who hath my peace transformed to war and pain, - And to such sadness all my jollity? - Unto this land, where I can hope to gain - A tomb alone, what fate hath guided me? - Who, who, once more will guide my wandering thought - Unto the bounds a healthy mind hath sought? - - Could I but cleave this breast of mine in twain, - Could I but rob myself of dearest life, - That earth and Heaven, at last content, might deign - To leave me loyal 'midst my passion's strife, - Without my faltering when I feel the pain, - With mine own hand would I direct the knife - Against my breast, but if I die, there dies - His hope of love; the fire doth higher rise. - - Let the blind god his golden arrows shower - In torrents, straight against my mournful heart - Aiming in maddened frenzy, let the power - Of fiercest rage direct the cruel dart; - For, lo, of happiness a plenteous store - I gain, when I conceal the grievous smart; - Ashes and dust though stricken breast become, - Rich is the guerdon of my noble doom. - - Eternal silence on my wearied tongue - The law of loyal friendship will impose, - By whose unequalled virtue grows less strong - The pain that never hopes to find repose; - But, though it never cease, and seek to wrong - My health and honour, yet, amidst my woes, - My faith, as ever, shall more steadfast be - Than firmest rock amidst the angry sea. - - The moisture that my weeping eyes distil, - The duteous service that my tongue can do, - The sacrifice I offer of my will, - The happiness that to my toil is due, - These gain sweet spoil and recompense; but still, - 'Tis he must take them, he my friend so true; - May Heaven be gracious to my fond design - Which seeks another's good and loses mine. - - Help me, oh gentle Love, uplift and guide - My feeble spirit in the doubtful hour, - To soul and faltering tongue, whate'er betide, - Send in the long-expected moment power, - That shall be strong, with boldness at its side, - To make that easy which was hard before, - And bravely dash upon fate and misfortune, - Until it shall attain to greatest fortune. - -'It resulted from my being so transported in my endless imaginings that -I did not take heed to sing these verses I have repeated, in a voice as -low as I ought, nor was the place where I was so secret as to prevent -their being listened to by Timbrio; and when he heard them, it came -into his mind that mine was not free from love, and that if I felt any, -it was for Nisida, as could be gathered from my song; and though he -discovered the true state of my thoughts, he did not discover that of -my wishes, but rather understanding them to be contrary to what I did -think, he decided to depart that very night and go to where he might -be found by nobody, only to leave me the opportunity of alone serving -Nisida. All this I learnt from a page of his, who was acquainted with -all his secrets, who came to me in great distress and said to me: -"Help, Señor Silerio, for Timbrio, my master and your friend, wishes -to leave us and go away this night. He has not told me where, but only -that I should get for him I do not know how much money, and that I -should tell no one he is going, especially telling me not to tell you: -and this thought came to him after he had been listening to some verse -or other you were singing just now. To judge from the excessive grief -I have seen him display, I think he is on the verge of despair; and as -it seems to me that I ought rather to assist in his cure than to obey -his command, I come to tell it to you, as to one who can intervene to -prevent him putting into practice so fatal a purpose." With strange -dread I listened to what the page told me, and went straightway to see -Timbrio in his apartment, and, before I went in, I stopped to see what -he was doing. He was stretched on his bed, face downwards, shedding -countless tears accompanied by deep sighs, and with a low voice and -broken words, it seemed to me that he was saying this: "Seek, my true -friend Silerio, to win the fruit your solicitude and toil has well -deserved, and do not seek, by what you think you owe to friendship -for me, to fail to gratify your desire, for I will restrain mine, -though it be with the extreme means of death; for, since you freed me -from it, when with such love and fortitude you offered yourself to -the fierceness of a thousand swords, it is not much that I should now -repay you in part for so good a deed by giving you the opportunity to -enjoy her in whom Heaven summed up all its beauty, and love set all my -happiness, without the hindrance my presence can cause you. One thing -only grieves me, sweet friend, and it is that I cannot bid you farewell -at this bitter parting, but accept for excuse that you are the cause -of it. Oh, Nisida, Nisida! how true is it of your beauty, that he who -dares to look upon it must needs atone for his fault by the penalty of -dying for it! Silerio saw it, and if he had not been so struck with -it as I believe he has been, he would have lost with me much of the -reputation he had for discretion. But since my fortune has so willed -it, let Heaven know that I am no less Silerio's friend than he is mine; -and, as tokens of this truth, let Timbrio part himself from his glory, -exile himself from his bliss, and go wandering from land to land, away -from Silerio and Nisida, the two true and better halves of his soul." -And straightway, with much passion, he rose from the bed, opened the -door, and finding me there said to me: "What do you want, friend, at -such an hour? Is there perchance any news?" "Such news there is," I -answered him, "that I had not been sorry though it were less." In a -word, not to weary you, I got so far with him, that I persuaded him and -gave him to understand that his fancy was false, not as to the fact of -my being in love, but as to the person with whom, for it was not with -Nisida, but with her sister Blanca; and I knew how to tell him this -in such a way that he counted it true. And that he might credit it -the more, memory offered me some stanzas which I myself had made many -days before, to another lady of the same name, which I told him I had -composed for Nisida's sister. And they were so much to the purpose, -that though it be outside the purpose to repeat them now, I cannot pass -them by in silence. They were these: - -SILERIO. - Oh Blanca, whiter than the snow so white, - Whose heart is harder yet than frozen snow, - My sorrow deem thou not to be so light - That thou to heal it mayst neglect. For, lo, - If thy soul is not softened by this plight-- - That soul that doth conspire to bring me woe-- - As black will turn my fortune to my shame - As white thou art in beauty and in name. - - Oh gentle Blanca, in whose snowy breast - Nestleth the bliss of love for which I yearn, - Before my breast, with woeful tears oppressed, - Doth unto dust and wretched earth return, - Show that thine own is in some way distressed - With all the grief and pain wherein I burn, - A guerdon this will be, so rich and sure - As to repay the evil I endure. - - Thou'rt white as silver; for thy loveliness - I would exchange gold of the finest grain, - I'd count it wealth, if thee I might possess, - To lose the loftiest station I might gain: - Since, Blanca, thou dost know what I confess, - I pray thee, cease thy lover to disdain, - And grant it may be Blanca I must thank - That in love's lottery I draw no blank. - - Though I were sunk in blankest poverty - And but a farthing had to call my own, - If that fair thing were thou, I would not be - Changed for the richest man the world hath known. - This would I count my chief felicity, - Were Juan de Espera en Dios[115] and I but one, - If, at the time the _Blancas_ three I sought, - Thou, Blanca, in the midst of them were caught. - -Silerio would have gone further with his story, had he not been stopped -by the sound of many pipes and attuned flageolets, which was heard at -their backs; and, turning their heads, they saw coming towards them -about a dozen gay shepherds, set in two lines, and in the midst came -a comely herdsman, crowned with a garland of honeysuckle and other -different flowers. He carried a staff in one hand; and with staid step -advanced little by little, and the other shepherds, with the same -success, all playing their instruments, gave pleasing and rare token -of themselves. As soon as Elicio saw them, he recognised that Daranio -was the shepherd they brought in the midst, and that the others were -all neighbours, who wished to be present at his wedding, to which also -Thyrsis and Damon had come; and to gladden the betrothal feast, and to -honour the bridegroom, they were proceeding in that manner towards the -village. But Thyrsis, seeing that their coming had imposed silence upon -Silerio's story, asked him to spend that night together with them all -in the village, where he would be waited upon with all the good-will -possible, and might satisfy their wishes by finishing the incident he -had begun. Silerio promised this, and at the same moment came up the -band of joyous shepherds, who, recognising Elicio, and Daranio Thyrsis -and Damon, his friends, welcomed one another with tokens of great joy; -and renewing the music, and renewing their happiness, they turned to -pursue the road they had begun. Now that they were coming nigh to the -village, there came to their ears the sound of the pipe of the unloving -Lenio, whereat they all received no little pleasure, for they already -knew his extreme disposition, and so, when Lenio saw and knew them, -without interrupting his sweet song, he came towards them singing as -follows: - -LENIO. - Ah happy, happy all - Brimful of gladness and of jollity, - Fortunate will I call - So fair a company, - If it yield not unto Love's tyranny! - - Whoso his breast declined - To yield unto this cruel maddening wound, - Within whose healthy mind - Traitor Love is not found, - Lo I will kiss beneath his feet the ground! - - And happy everywhere - The prudent herdsman will I call, the swain - Who lives and sets his care - On his poor flock, and fain - Would turn to Love a face of cold disdain. - - Ere the ripe season come, - Such a one's ewe-lambs will be fit to bear, - Bringing their lambkins home, - And when the day is drear - Pasturage will they find and waters clear. - - If Love should for his sake - Be angry and should turn his mind astray, - Lo, his flock will I take - With mine and lead the way - To the clear stream, and to the meadow gay. - - What time the sacred steam - Of incense shall go flying to the sky, - This is the prayer I deem - To offer up on high, - Kneeling on earth in zealous piety. - - "Oh holy Heaven and just, - Since thou protector art of those who seek - To do thy will, whose trust - Is in thee, help the weak, - On whom for thy sake Love doth vengeance wreak. - - "Let not this tyrant bear - The spoils away that were thine own before, - But with thy bounteous care - And choice rewards once more - Unto their senses do thou strength restore." - -As Lenio ceased singing, he was courteously received by all the -shepherds, and when he heard them name Damon and Thyrsis, whom he only -knew by repute, he was astonished at seeing their admirable bearing, -and so he said to them: - -'What encomiums would suffice, though they were the best that could be -found in eloquence, to have the power of exalting and applauding your -worth, famous shepherds, if perchance love's follies were not mingled -with the truths of your renowned writings? But since you are in love's -decline, a disease to all appearance incurable, though my rude talents -may pay you your due in valuing and praising your rare discretion, it -will be impossible for me to avoid blaming your thoughts.' - -'If you had yours, discreet Lenio,' replied Thyrsis, 'without the -shadows of the idle opinion which fills them, you would straightway see -the brightness of ours, and that they deserve more glory and praise for -being loving, than for any subtlety or discretion they might contain.' - -'No more, Thyrsis, no more,' replied Lenio, 'for I know well that with -such great and such obstinate foes my reasonings will have little -force.' - -'If they had force,' answered Elicio, 'those who are here are such -friends of truth, that not even in jest would they contradict it, and -herein you can see, Lenio, how far you go from it, since there is no -one to approve your words, or even to hold your intentions good.' - -'Then in faith,' said Lenio, 'may your intentions not save you, oh -Elicio, but let the air tell it, which you ever increase with sighs, -and the grass of these meadows which grows with your tears, and the -verses you sang the other day and wrote on the beeches of this wood, -for in them will be seen what it is you praise in yourself and blame in -me.' - -Lenio would not have remained without a reply, had they not seen coming -to where they were the fair Galatea, with the discreet shepherdesses -Florisa and Teolinda, who, not to be recognised by Damon and Thyrsis, -had placed a white veil before her fair face. They came and were -received by the shepherds with joyous welcome, especially by the lovers -Elicio and Erastro, who felt such strange content at the sight of -Galatea, that Erastro, being unable to conceal it, in token thereof, -without any one asking it of him, beckoned to Elicio to play his pipe, -to the sound of which, with joyous and sweet accents, he sang the -following verses: - -ERASTRO. - Let me but the fair eyes see - Of the sun I am beholding; - If they go, their light withholding, - Soul, pursue them speedily. - For without them naught is bright, - Vainly may the soul aspire, - Which without them doth desire - Neither freedom, health nor light. - - Whoso can may see these eyes - Yet he cannot fitly praise; - But if he would on them gaze - He must yield his life as prize. - Them I see and saw before, - And each time that I behold, - To the soul I gave of old - New desires I give once more. - - Nothing more can I bestow, - Nor can fancy tell me more, - If I may not her adore - For the faith in her I show. - Certain is my punishment - If these eyes, so rich in bliss, - Viewed but what I did amiss, - Nor regarded my intent. - - So much happiness I see - That this day, though it endure - For a thousand years and more, - But a moment were to me. - Time, that flies so swiftly by, - Doth the flight of years withhold, - Whilst the beauty I behold - Of the life for which I die. - - Peace and shelter in this sight - Doth my loving soul acclaim, - Living in the living flame - Of its pure and lovely light, - Wherewith Love doth prove its truth: - In this flame it bids it win - Sweetest life, and doth therein, - Phœnix-like, renew its youth. - - I go forth in eager quest - Of sweet glory with my mind, - In my memory I find - That my happiness doth rest. - There it lies, there it doth hide, - Not in pomp, nor lofty birth, - Not in riches of the earth, - Nor in sovereignty nor pride. - -Here Erastro ended his song, and the way was ended of going to the -village, where Thyrsis, Damon and Silerio repaired to Elicio's house, -so that the opportunity might not be lost of learning the end of the -story of Silerio, which he had begun. The fair shepherdesses, Galatea -and Florisa, offering to be present on the coming day at Daranio's -wedding, left the shepherds, and all or most remained with the -bridegroom, whilst the girls went to their houses. And that same night, -Silerio, being urged by his friend Erastro, and by the desire which -wearied him to return to his hermitage, ended the sequel of his story, -as will be seen in the following book. - - - FOOTNOTES: - -[115] Juan de Espera en Dios is supposed originally to have been a -popular name for St. John the Baptist (_que esperaba al Mesías_). -However this may be, the phrase is now applied to idlers, who, like -Juan de las Zancas largas (the Castilian Mr. Micawber), fold their -hands and expect something to turn up providentially. The expression -recurs in _Algunas poesías inéditas de Luis Vélez de Guevara_ (see -p. 11 of the _tirage à part_ of Sr. D. Adolfo Bonilla y San Martín's -edition, reprinted from the _Revista de Aragón_, Madrid, 1902):-- - - Mas luego, en mi fe constante, - Soy Luys de Espera-en-Infante, - Como Juan de Espera-en-Dios. - -An exceedingly doleful jest (in four volumes) was published at the end -of the eighteenth century under the title of _Zumbas con que el famoso -Juan de Espera en Dios, hijo de Millan, y sobrino de Juan de Buen Alma, -acude á dar vayas, bregas y chascas con los alegres gracejos y salados -períodos de la divertida série de su graciosa vida á la melancolía -y sus macilentos contertulios en los desvanes de los desagrados -aprehensivos donde intentan anidarse; las que traducidas del Español -al Castellano irá dando á luz el Jueves de cada semana Don Joseph de -Santos Capuano, según se las deparó la feliz casualidad á su hermano -Don Santiago, y este se las raya remitiendo á Madrid, en gracia, -obsequio, y para honesto recreo de los sencillos y claros labradores, y -de los muy honrados y prudentes comerciantes, fabricantes, artesanos, -menestrales, etc., aplicados y leales vasallos de S.M. á quienes se -las dedica_ (Madrid, 1799). The prolix humorist who wrote this work -declares (vol. i., p. 26) that the name was first applied to a certain -Andrés Quixano Cerro--of Tirteafuera, no mean city, and one familiar to -readers of _Don Quixote_, if not to geographers. This worthy is alleged -to have supported the Moorish forays with pious fortitude, and to have -remarked: "Obremos en nuestra defensa lo que dicte la razón en esta -necesidad sin temer, y _esperemos en Dios_." His holy calm so edified -his neighbours that they ceased using the name of Quixano Cerro and -substituted Andrés de Espera en Dios in its stead. All of which may be -believed or not, as the reader chooses.--J. F.-K. - - - - - BOOK III. - - -The joyful uproar there was that night in the village, on the occasion -of Daranio's wedding, did not prevent Elicio, Thyrsis, Damon and -Erastro from settling down together in a place where, without being -disturbed by anyone, Silerio might continue the story he had begun, and -he, when all together had given him pleasing silence, continued in this -wise: - -'From the feigned stanzas to Blanca, which I have told you I repeated -to Timbrio, he was satisfied that my pain proceeded not from love -of Nisida, but of her sister; and with this assurance, begging my -forgiveness for the false idea he had had about me, he again entrusted -me with his cure; and so I, forgetful of my own, did not neglect in -the least what concerned his. Some days passed, during which fortune -did not show me an opportunity as open as I could wish for disclosing -to Nisida the truth of my thoughts, though she kept asking me how it -was going with my friend in his love-affair, and if his lady as yet -had any knowledge of it. In reply to this I said to her that the fear -of offending her still kept me from venturing to tell her anything; -whereat Nisida was very angry, calling me coward and of little sense, -and adding to this that since I was playing the coward, either Timbrio -did not feel the grief I reported of him, or I was not so true a -friend of his as I said. All this induced me to make up my mind and -reveal myself at the first opportunity, which I did one day when she -was alone. She listened with strange silence to all I had to say to -her, and I, as best I could, extolled to her Timbrio's worth, and the -true love he had for her, which was so strong that it had brought me -to take up so lowly a pursuit as that of a buffoon, merely to have -an opportunity of telling her what I was telling her. To these I -added other reasonings which Nisida must needs have thought were not -without reason; but she would not show by words then what she could -not afterwards keep concealed by deeds; rather with dignity and rare -modesty she reproved my boldness, rebuked my daring, blamed my words -and daunted my confidence, but not in such a way as to banish me -from her presence, which was what I feared most; she merely ended by -telling me to have henceforward more regard for what was due to her -modesty, and to see to it that the artifice of my false dress should -not be discovered--an ending this which closed and finished the tragedy -of my life, since I understood thereby that Nisida would give ear -to Timbrio's plaints. In what breast could or can be contained the -extremity of grief that was then concealed in mine, since the end of -its greatest desire was the finish and end of its happiness? I was -gladdened by the good beginning I had given to Timbrio's cure, and this -gladness redounded to my hurt, for it seemed to me, as was the truth, -that, on seeing Nisida in another's power, my own was ended. Oh mighty -force of true friendship, how far dost thou extend! how far didst thou -constrain me! since I myself, impelled by thy constraint, by my own -contriving whetted the knife which was to cut short my hopes, which, -dying in my soul, lived and revived in Timbrio's, when he learned -from me all that had passed with Nisida. But her way with him and me -was so coy that she never showed at all that she was pleased with my -solicitude or Timbrio's love, nor yet was she disdainful in such a -manner that her displeasure and aversion made us both abandon the -enterprise. This went on till it came to Timbrio's knowledge that his -enemy Pransiles, the gentleman he had wronged in Xeres, being desirous -of satisfying his honour, was sending him a challenge, indicating to -him a free and secure field on an estate in the Duke of Gravina's -territory, and giving him a term of six months from that date to the -day of the combat. The care induced by this news did not cause him -to become careless in what concerned his love-affair, but rather, -by fresh solicitude on my part and services on his, Nisida came to -demean herself in such a way that she did not show herself disdainful -though Timbrio looked at her and visited at the house of her parents, -preserving in all a decorum as honourable as befitted her worth. The -term of the challenge now drawing near, Timbrio, seeing that the -journey was inevitable for him, determined to depart, and before doing -so, he wrote to Nisida a letter, of such a kind that with it he ended -in a moment what I during many months and with many words had not -begun. I have the letter in my memory, and to render my story complete, -I will not omit to tell you that it ran thus: - - - TIMBRIO TO NISIDA - - All hail to Nisida, from a loving swain - Who is not hale nor ever hopes to be, - Until his health from thine own hand he gain. - These lines, I fear, will surely gain for me, - Though they be written in my very blood, - The abhorred reproach of importunity. - And yet I may not, e'en although I would, - Escape Love's torment, for my passions bear - My soul along amidst their cruel flood. - A fiery daring and a chilly fear - Encompass me about, and I remain, - Whilst thou dost read this letter, sad and drear; - For when I write to thee, I do but gain - Ruin if thou dost scorn my words, ah woe! - And spurn my awkward phrases with disdain. - True Heaven is my witness and doth know - If I have not adored thee from the hour - I saw the lovely face that is my foe. - I saw thee and adored--What wouldst thou more? - The peerless semblance of an angel fair - What man is there but straightway would adore? - Upon thy beauty, in the world so rare, - My soul so keenly gazed that on thy face - It could not rest its piercing gaze, for there - Within thy soul it was upon the trace - Of mighty loveliness, a paradise - Giving assurance of a greater grace. - On these rich pinions thou to Heaven dost rise - And on the earth thou sendest dread and pain - Unto the simple, wonder to the wise. - Happy the soul that doth such bliss contain, - And no less happy he who to Love's war - Yields up his own that blissful soul to gain! - Debtor am I unto my fatal star, - That bade me yield to one who doth possess - Within so fair a frame a soul so fair. - To me thy mood, oh lady, doth confess - That I was wrong when I aspired so high, - And covereth with fear my hopefulness. - But on my honest purpose I rely, - I turn a bold face to despondency, - New breath I gain when I to death am nigh. - They say that without hope Love cannot be. - 'Tis mere opinion: for I hope no more - And yet the more Love's force doth master me. - I love thee for thy goodness, and adore, - Thy beauty draws me captive in its train, - It was the net Love stretched in love's first hour - That with rare subtlety it might constrain - This soul of mine, careless and fancy-free, - Unto the amorous knot, to know its strain. - Love his dominion and his tyranny - Within some breasts sustains by beauty's aid, - But not within the curious fantasy, - Which looks not on Love's narrow noose displayed - In ringlets of fine gold that satisfy - The heart of him who views them undismayed, - Nor on the breast that he who turns his eye - On breast alone, doth alabaster call - Nor on the wondrous neck of ivory; - But it regards the hidden all in all - And contemplates the thousand charms displayed - Within the soul that succour and enthral. - The charms that are but mortal, doomed to fade, - Unto the soul immortal bring not balm, - Unless it leave the light and seek the shade. - Thy peerless virtue carrieth off the palm, - It maketh of my thoughts its spoil and prey, - And all my lustful passions it doth calm. - They are content and willingly obey, - For by the worth thy merits ever show - They seek their hard and bitter pain to weigh. - I plough the sea and in the sand I sow - When I am doomed by passion's mystic stress - Beyond the viewing of thy face to go. - I know how high thou art; my lowliness - I see, and where the distance is so great, - One may not hope, nor do I hope possess. - Wherefore I find no cure to heal my state, - Numerous my hardships as the stars of night, - Or as the tribes the earth that populate. - I understand what for my soul is right, - I know the better, and the worse attain, - Borne by the love wherein I take delight. - But now, fair Nisida, the point I gain, - Which I with mortal anguish do desire, - Where I shall end the sorrow I sustain. - Uplifted is the hostile arm in ire, - The keen and ruthless sword awaiteth me, - Each with thine anger 'gainst me doth conspire. - Thy wrathful will soon, soon, avenged will be - Upon the vain presumption of my will, - Which was without a reason spurned by thee. - No other pangs nor agonies would fill - With agitation dread my mournful thought, - Though greater than death's agonizing chill, - If I could in my short and bitter lot - But see thee towards my heart-felt wishes kind, - As the reverse I see, that thou art not. - Narrow the path that leads to bliss, I find, - But broad and spacious that which leads to pain; - By my misfortune this hath been designed, - And death, that buttressed is on thy disdain, - By this in anger and in haste doth run, - Eager its triumph o'er my life to gain. - By yonder path my bliss, well-nigh undone, - Departs, crushed by the sternness thou dost show, - Which needs must end my brief life all too soon. - My fate hath raised me to the height of woe - Where I begin e'en now to dread the scorn - And anger of my sore-offended foe. - 'Tis that I see the fire wherein I burn - Is ice within thy breast, and this is why - At the last moment I a coward turn. - For if thou dost not show thee my ally, - Of whom will my weak hand be not afraid, - Though strength and skill the more accompany? - What Roman warrior, if thou dost but aid, - Or what Greek captain would oppose my might? - Nay, from his purpose he would shrink dismayed. - I would escape e'en from the direst plight, - And from death's cruel hand away I'd bear - The spoils of victory in his despite. - Thou, thou, alone my lot aloft canst rear - Above all human glory, or abase - Unto the depths below--no bliss is there. - For if, as pure Love had the power to raise, - Fortune were minded to uphold my lot - Safe 'midst the dangers of its lofty place, - My hope which lieth where it hopeth naught, - Itself would see exalted to a height - Above the heaven where reigns the moon, in thought. - Such am I that I now account delight - The evil that thine angry scorn doth give - Unto my soul in such a wondrous plight, - If in thy memory I might see I live, - And that perchance thou dost remember, sweet, - To deal the wound which I as bliss receive. - 'Twere easier far for me the tale complete - To tell of the white sands beside the sea, - Or of the stars that make the eighth heaven their seat, - Than all the pain, the grief, the anxiety, - Whereto the rigour of thy cruel disdain - Condemns me, though I have not wounded thee. - Seek not the measure of thy worth to gain - From my humility; if we compare - Loftiness with thee, 'twill on earth remain. - Such as I am I love thee, and I dare - To say that I advance in loving sure - Unto the highest point in Love's career, - Wherefore in merit I am not so poor - That as an enemy thou shouldst me treat-- - Rather, methinks, my guerdon should endure. - So great a cruelty doth ill befit - Such loveliness, and where we do perceive - Such worth, there doth ingratitude ill sit. - On thee fain would I call account to give - Of a soul yielded thee; where was it thrown? - How, when my soul is gone, do I yet live? - Didst thou not deign to make my heart thy throne? - What can he give thee more who loves thee more? - Herein how well was thy presumption shown! - I have been soulless from the earliest hour - I saw thee for my bliss and for my pain, - For all were pain if I saw thee no more. - There I of my free heart gave thee the rein, - Thou rulest me, for thee alone I live, - And yet thy power can more than this attain. - Within the flame of pure Love I revive - And am undone, since from the death of Love - I, like a phœnix, straightway life receive. - This would I have thee think all things above, - In faith of this my faith, that it is sure - That I live glowing in the fire of Love, - And that thou canst e'en after death restore - Me unto life, and in a moment guide - From the wild ocean to the peaceful shore. - For Love in thee and power dwell side by side, - And are united, reigning over me. - They waver not nor falter in their pride-- - And here I end lest I should weary thee. - -'I know not whether it was the reasonings of this letter, or the many -I had urged before on Nisida, assuring her of the true love Timbrio -had for her, or Timbrio's ceaseless services, or Heaven that had so -ordained it, that moved Nisida's heart to call me at the moment she -finished reading it, and with tears in her eyes to say to me: "Ah, -Silerio, Silerio! I verily believe that you have at the cost of my -peace sought to gain your friend's! May the fates that have brought me -to this pass make Timbrio's deeds accord with your words; and if both -have deceived me, may Heaven take vengeance for my wrong, Heaven which -I call to witness for the violence desire does me, making me keep it -no longer concealed. But, alas, how light an acquittal is this for so -weighty a fault! since I ought rather to die in silence so that my -honour might live, than by saying what I now wish to say to you to bury -it and end my life." These words of Nisida's made me confused, and yet -more the agitation with which she uttered them; and desiring by mine -to encourage her to declare herself without any fear, I had not to -importune her much, for at last she told me that she not only loved, -but adored Timbrio, and that she would always have concealed that -feeling had not the compulsion of Timbrio's departure compelled her to -disclose it. It is not possible to describe fitly the state I was in, -shepherds, on hearing what Nisida said, and the feeling of love she -showed she bore to Timbrio; and indeed it is well that a grief which -extends so far should be beyond description. Not that I was grieved to -see Timbrio loved, but to see myself rendered incapable of ever having -happiness, since it was, and is clear, that I neither could nor can -live without Nisida; for to see her, as I have said at other times, -placed in another's arms, was to sever myself from all pleasure, and if -fate granted me any at this pass, it was to consider the welfare of my -friend Timbrio, and this was the cause why my death and the declaration -of Nisida's love did not occur at one and the same moment. I listened -to her as well as I could, and assured her as well as I knew how of the -integrity of Timbrio's breast, whereat she replied to me that there -was no need to assure her of that, for that she was of such a mind -that she could not, nor ought she to, fail to believe me, only asking -me, if it were possible, to manage to persuade Timbrio to seek some -honourable means to avoid a combat with his foe: and when I replied -that this was impossible without his being dishonoured, she was calmed, -and taking from her neck some precious relics, she gave them to me that -I might give them to Timbrio from her. As she knew her parents were -to go and see Timbrio's fight, and would take her and her sister with -them, but as she would not have the courage to be present at Timbrio's -dire peril, it was also agreed between us that she should pretend to -be indisposed, on which pretext she would remain in a pleasure-house -where her parents were to lodge, which was half a league from the town -where the combat was to take place, and that there she would await -her bad or good fortune, according to Timbrio's. She bade me also, in -order to shorten the anxiety she would feel to learn Timbrio's fortune, -take with me a white kerchief which she gave me, and, if Timbrio -conquered, bind it on my arm, and come back to give her the news; -and, if he were vanquished, not to bind it, and so she would learn -from afar by the token of the kerchief the beginning of her bliss or -the end of her life. I promised her to do all she bade me, and taking -the relics and the kerchief I took leave of her with the greatest -sadness and the greatest joy I ever felt; my little fortune caused -the sadness; Timbrio's great fortune the gladness. He learnt from me -what I brought him from Nisida, whereat he was so joyous, happy, and -proud, that the danger of the battle he awaited he counted as naught, -for it seemed to him that in being favoured by his lady, not even -death itself would be able to gainsay him. For the present I pass by -in silence the exaggerated terms Timbrio used to show himself grateful -for what he owed to my solicitude; for they were such that he seemed to -be out of his senses while discoursing thereon. Being cheered, then, -and encouraged by this good news, he began to make preparations for -his departure, taking as seconds a Spanish gentleman, and another, a -Neapolitan. And at the tidings of this particular duel countless people -of the kingdom were moved to see it, Nisida's parents also going there, -taking her and her sister Blanca with them. As it fell to Timbrio to -choose weapons, he wished to show that he based his right, not on the -advantage they possessed, but on the justice that was his, and so those -he chose were the sword and dagger, without any defensive weapon. -But few days were wanting to the appointed term, when Nisida and her -father, with many other gentlemen, set out from the city of Naples; -she, having arrived first, reminded me many times not to forget our -agreement; but my wearied memory, which never served save to remind me -of things alone that were unpleasing to me, so as not to change its -character, forgot as much of what Nisida had told me as it saw was -needful to rob me of life, or at least to set me in the miserable state -in which I now see myself.' - -The shepherds were listening with great attention to what Silerio was -relating, when the thread of his story was interrupted by the voice of -a hapless shepherd, who was singing among some trees, nor yet so far -from the windows of the dwelling where they were, but that all that he -said could not fail to be heard. The voice was such that it imposed -silence on Silerio, who in no wise wished to proceed, but rather -asked the other shepherds to listen to it, since for the little there -remained of his story, there would be time to finish it. This would -have annoyed Thyrsis and Damon, had not Elicio said to them: - -'Little will be lost, shepherds, in listening to the luckless Mireno, -who is without doubt the shepherd that is singing, and whom fortune has -brought to such a pass that I fancy he hopes for nothing in the way of -his happiness.' - -'How can he hope for it,' said Erastro, 'if to-morrow Daranio marries -the shepherdess Silveria, whom he thought to wed? But in the end -Daranio's wealth has had more power with Silveria's parents than the -abilities of Mireno.' - -'You speak truth,' replied Elicio: 'but with Silveria the love she knew -Mireno had for her should have had more power than any treasure; the -more so that Mireno is not so poor that his poverty would be remarked, -though Silveria were to wed him.' - -Through these remarks which Elicio and Erastro uttered, the desire -to learn what Mireno was singing increased in the shepherds; and so -Silerio begged that no more might be said, and all with attentive ears -stopped to listen to him. He, distressed by Silveria's ingratitude, -seeing that next day she was wedding Daranio, with the rage and grief -this deed caused him, had gone forth from his house accompanied only by -his rebeck: and invited by the solitude and silence of a tiny little -meadow which was hard by the walls of the village, and trusting that on -a night so peaceful no one would listen to him, he sat down at the foot -of a tree, and tuning his rebeck was singing in this wise: - -MIRENO. - Oh cloudless sky, that with so many eyes - O'er all the world the thefts of Love beholdest, - And in thy course dost fill with joy or grief - Him who to their sweet cause his agonies - Tells 'midst thy stillness, or whom thou withholdest - From such delight, nor offerest him relief, - If yet with thee be chief - Kindness for me perchance, since now indeed - In speech alone contentment must I find, - Thou, knowing all my mind, - My words--it is not much I ask--may'st heed; - For, see, my voice of woe - Shall with my sorrowing soul die 'neath the blow. - - Ah now my wearied voice, my woeful cry, - Scarce, scarce, will now offend the empty air; - For I at last unto this pass am brought, - That to the winds that angry hasten by, - Love casts my hopes, and in another's care - Hath placed the bliss that I deserving sought, - The fruit my loving thought - Did sow, the fruit watered by wearied tears - By his triumphant hands will gathered be, - And his the victory, - Who was in fortune rich beyond his peers, - But in deserving poor-- - 'Tis fortune smooths the rough and makes it sure. - - Then he who sees his happiness depart - By any way, who doth his glory see - Transformed into such bitter grievous pain-- - Why ends he not his life with all its smart? - Against the countless powers of destiny - Why strives he not to break the vital chain? - Slowly I pass amain - Unto the peril sweet of bitter death. - Wherefore, mine arm, bold 'midst thy weariness, - Endure thou the distress - Of living, since our lot it brighteneth - To know that 'tis Love's will - That grief should do the deed, as steel doth kill. - - My death is certain, for it cannot be - That he should live whose very hope is dead, - And who from glory doth so far remain. - Yet this I fear, that death, by Love's decree, - May be impossible, that memory fed - By a false confidence may live again - In my despite. What then? - For if the tale of my past happiness - I call to mind, and see that all is gone, - That I am now undone - By the sad cares I in its stead possess, - 'Twill serve the more to show - That I from memory and from life should go. - - Ah! chief and only good my soul hath known! - Sun that didst calm the storm within my breast! - Goal of the worth that is desired by me! - Can it be that the day should ever dawn - When I must know that thou rememberest - No more, and Love that day doth let me see? - Rather, ere this should be, - Ere thy fair neck be by another's arms - In all its loveliness encircled, ere - Thy golden--nay thy hair - Is gold, and ere its gold in all its charms - Should make Daranio rich, - Its end may the evil with my life's end reach. - - None hath by faith better deserved than I - To win thee; but I see that faith is dead, - Unless it be by deeds made manifest. - To certain grief and to uncertain joy - I yield my life; and if I merited - Thereby, I might hope for a gladsome feast. - But in this cruellest - Law used by Love, hath good desire no place, - This proverb lovers did of old discover: - The deed declares the lover, - And as for me, who to my hurt possess - Naught but the will to do, - Wherein must I not fail, whose deeds are few? - - I thought the law would clearly broken be - In thee, that avaricious Love doth use; - I thought that thou thine eyes on high wouldst raise - Unto a captive soul that serves but thee, - So ready to perform what thou dost choose, - That, if thou didst but know, 'twould earn thy praise. - For a faith that assays - By the vain pomps of wealth so full of care - All its desires, thou wouldst not change, I thought, - A faith that was so fraught - With tokens of good faith, Silveria fair. - Thyself thou didst to gold - Yield that thou mightst yield me to grief untold. - - Oh poverty, that creepest on the ground, - Cause of the grief that doth my soul enrage, - He praiseth thee, thy face who never saw. - Thy visage did my shepherdess confound, - At once thy harshness did her love assuage, - She to escape thee doth her foot withdraw. - This is thy cruel law, - Vainly doth one aspire the goal to find - Of amorous purpose; thou high hopes abasest - And countless changes placest - Within the greedy breast of womankind, - But never dost thou bless - The worth of lovers with complete success. - - Gold is a sun, whose ray the keenest eyes - Blindeth, if on the semblance they be fed - Of interest, that doth beguile the sight. - He that is liberal-handed wins the prize, - Even her hand, who, by her avarice led, - Fair though she be, declares her heart's delight. - 'Tis gold that turns the sight - From the pure purpose and the faith sincere; - More than a lover's firmness is undone - By the diamond stone, - Whose hardness turns to wax a bosom fair, - However hard it be; - Its fancy thus it winneth easily. - - Oh sweet my foe I suffer grief untold - For thee, because thy matchless charms thou hast - Made ugly by a proof of avarice. - So much didst thou reveal thy love of gold - That thou my passion didst behind thee cast - And to oblivion didst my care dismiss. - Now thou art wed! Ah, this - Ends all! Wed, shepherdess! I pray that Heaven - Thy choice, as thou thyself wouldst wish, may bless, - That for my bitterness - A just reward may not to thee be given.-- - But, alas! Heaven, our friend, - Guerdon to virtue, stripes to ill doth send. - -Here the hapless Mireno ended his song with tokens of grief so great -that he inspired the same in all those who were listening to him, -especially in those who knew him, and were acquainted with his virtues, -gallant disposition and honourable bearing. And after there had passed -between the shepherds some remarks upon the strange character of women, -and chiefly upon the marriage of Silveria, who, forgetful of Mireno's -love and goodness, had yielded herself to Daranio's wealth, they were -desirous that Silerio should end his story, and, complete silence -having been imposed, without needing to be asked, he began to continue, -saying: - -'The day of the dire peril, then, having come, Nisida remained half a -league out of the village, in some gardens as she had agreed with me, -with the pretext she gave to her parents that she was not well; and -as I left her, she charged me to return quickly, with the token of -the kerchief, for, according as I wore it or not, she would learn the -good or ill fortune of Timbrio. I promised it to her once more, being -aggrieved that she should charge me with it so often. Therewith I -took leave of her and of her sister, who remained with her. And when I -had come to the place of combat and the hour of beginning it had come, -after the seconds of both had completed the ceremonies and warnings -which are required in such a case, the two gentlemen, being set in -the lists, at the dread sound of a hoarse trumpet engaged with such -dexterity and skill that it caused admiration in all that saw them. -But love or justice--and this is the more likely--which was favouring -Timbrio, gave him such vigour that, though at the cost of some wounds, -in a short space he put his adversary in such a plight, that, having -him at his feet, wounded and covered with blood, he begged him to give -in, if he wished to save his life. But the luckless Pransiles urged -him to make an end of killing him, since it was easier for him and -less hurtful to pass through a thousand deaths than to surrender; yet -Timbrio's noble soul is such that he neither wished to kill his foe, -nor yet that he should confess himself vanquished. He merely contented -himself with his saying and acknowledging that Timbrio was as good as -he; which Pransiles confessed gladly, since in this he did so little, -that he might very well have said it without seeing himself in that -pass. All the bystanders who heard how Timbrio had dealt with his -foe, praised it and valued it highly. Scarcely had I seen my friend's -happy fortune, when with incredible joy and swift speed I returned to -give the news to Nisida. But woe is me! for my carelessness then has -set me in my present care. Oh memory, memory mine! why had you none -for what concerned me so much? But I believe it was ordained in my -fortune, that the beginning of that gladness should be the end and -conclusion of all my joys. I returned to see Nisida with the speed I -have said, but returned without placing the white kerchief on my arm. -Nisida, who, from some lofty galleries, with violent longing, was -waiting and watching for my return, seeing me returning without the -kerchief, thought that some sinister mishap had befallen Timbrio, and -she believed it and felt it in such wise, that, without aught else -contributing, all her spirits failed her, and she fell to the ground in -so strange a swoon, that all counted her dead. By the time I came up, I -found all her household in a turmoil, and her sister showing a thousand -extremes of grief over the body of sad Nisida. When I saw her in such -a state, firmly believing that she was dead, and seeing that the force -of grief was drawing me out of my senses, and afraid that while bereft -of them I might give or disclose some tokens of my thoughts, I went -forth from the house, and slowly returned to give the luckless news to -luckless Timbrio. But as the anxiety of my grief had robbed me of my -strength of mind and body, my steps were not so swift but that others -had been more so to carry the sad tidings to Nisida's parents, assuring -them that she had been carried off by an acute paroxysm. Timbrio must -needs have heard this and been in the same state as I was, if not in -a worse; I can only say that when I came to where I thought to find -him, the night was already somewhat advanced, and I learned from one -of his seconds that he had departed for Naples with his other second -by the post, with tokens of such great unhappiness as if he had issued -from the combat vanquished and dishonoured. I at once fancied what it -might be, and at once set myself on the way to follow him, and before -I reached Naples, I had sure tidings that Nisida was not dead, but had -been in a swoon which lasted four and twenty hours, at the end of which -she had come to herself with many tears and sighs. With the certainty -of these tidings I was consoled, and with greater joy reached Naples, -thinking to find Timbrio there; but it was not so, for the gentleman -with whom he had come assured me that on reaching Naples, he departed -without saying anything, and that he did not know whither; only he -fancied that, as he saw him sad and melancholy after the fight, he -could not but think he had gone to kill himself. This was news which -sent me back to my first tears, and my fortune, not even content with -this, ordained that at the end of a few days Nisida's parents should -come to Naples without her and without her sister, who, as I learned, -and as was the common report, had both absented themselves one night, -whilst coming with their parents to Naples, without any news being -known of them. Thereat I was so confused that I knew not what to do -with myself nor what to say to myself, and being placed in this strange -confusion, I came to learn, though not very surely, that Timbrio had -embarked in the port of Gaeta on a large ship bound for Spain. Thinking -it might be true, I came straightway to Spain, and have looked for him -in Xeres and in every place I fancied he might be, without finding -any trace of him. At last I came to the city of Toledo, where all the -kinsmen of Nisida's parents are, and what I succeeded in learning is -that they have returned to Toledo without having learned news of their -daughters. Seeing myself, then, absent from Timbrio and away from -Nisida, and considering that as soon as I should find them, it must -needs be to their joy and my ruin, being now wearied and disenchanted -of the things of this deceitful world in which we live, I have resolved -to turn my thoughts to a better pole-star, and to spend the little that -remains to me of life, in the service of Him who values desires and -works in the degree they deserve. And so I have chosen this garb you -see, and the hermitage you have seen, where in sweet solitude I may -repress my desires and direct my works to a better goal; though, as -the course of the evil inclinations I have cherished till now, springs -from so far back, they are not so easy to check but that they somewhat -overrun the bounds, and memory returns to battle with me, representing -to me the past. When I see myself in this pass, to the sound of yonder -harp which I chose for companion in my solitude, I seek to lighten -the heavy burden of my cares until Heaven shall take it and be minded -to call me to a better life. This, shepherds, is the story of my -misfortune; and if I have been long in telling it to you, it is because -my misfortune has not been brief in afflicting me. What I pray you is -to allow me to return to my hermitage, for, though your company is -pleasing to me, I have come to the pass that nothing gives me more joy -than solitude, and henceforward you will understand the life I lead and -the woe I endure.' - -Herewith Silerio ended his story, but not the tears with which he had -ofttimes accompanied it. The shepherds consoled him for them as best -they could, especially Damon and Thyrsis, who with many reasonings -urged him not to lose the hope of seeing his friend Timbrio in greater -happiness than he could imagine, since it was not possible but that -after such evil fortune Heaven should become serene, wherefrom it might -be hoped that it would not be willing for the false news of Nisida's -death to come to Timbrio's knowledge save in a truer version before -despair should end his days; and that, as regards Nisida it might be -believed and conjectured that, on finding Timbrio absent, she had gone -in search of him; and that, if fortune had then parted them by such -strange accidents, it would know now how to unite them by others no -less strange. All these reasonings and many others they addressed to -him, consoled him somewhat, but not so as to awaken the hope of seeing -himself in a life of greater happiness, nor yet did he seek it, for it -seemed to him that the life he had chosen, was the one most fitting for -him. A great part of the night was already passed when the shepherds -agreed to rest for the little time that remained until the day, whereon -the wedding of Daranio and Silveria was to be celebrated. But scarce -had the white dawn left the irksome couch of her jealous spouse, when -most of the shepherds of the village all left theirs, and each as best -he could, for his part, began to gladden the feast. One brought green -boughs to adorn the doorway of the betrothed, another with tabor and -flute gave them the morning greeting. Here was heard the gladdening -pipe, here sounded the tuneful rebeck, there the ancient psaltery, here -the practised flageolet; one with red ribands adorned his castanets for -the hoped-for dance, another polished and polished again his rustic -finery to show himself gallant in the eyes of some little shepherdess -his sweetheart, so that in whatever part of the village one went, -all savoured of happiness, pleasure, and festivity. There was only -the sad and hapless Mireno, to whom all these joys were the cause of -greatest sadness. He, having gone out from the village, so as not to -see performed the sacrifice of his glory, ascended a hillock which -was near the village, and seating himself there at the foot of an old -ash tree, placing his hand on his cheek, his bonnet pulled down to -his eyes which he kept rivetted on the ground, he began to ponder the -hapless plight in which he found himself, and how, without being able -to prevent it, he had to see the fruit of his desires culled before -his eyes; and this thought held him in such a way that he wept so -tenderly and bitterly that no one could see him in such a pass without -accompanying him with tears. At this moment Damon and Thyrsis, Elicio -and Erastro arose, and appearing at a window which looked on to the -plain, the first object on which they set eyes was the luckless Mireno, -and on seeing him in the state in which he was, they knew full well the -grief he was suffering; and, being moved to compassion, they determined -all to go and console him, as they would have done, had not Elicio -begged them to let him go alone, for he thought that, as Mireno was so -great a friend of his, he would impart his grief to him more freely -than to another. The shepherds consented to it, and Elicio, going -there, found Mireno so beside himself and so transported in his grief -that he neither recognised him nor spoke to him a word. Elicio, seeing -this, beckoned to the other shepherds to come, and they, fearing that -some strange accident had befallen Mireno, since Elicio called them -with haste, straightway went there, and saw Mireno with eyes so fixed -on the ground, and so motionless that he seemed a statue, seeing that -he did not awake from his strange trance with the coming of Elicio nor -with that of Thyrsis, Damon and Erastro, except that after a long while -he began to say as it were between his teeth: - -'Are you Silveria, Silveria? if you are, I am not Mireno, and if I am -not Mireno, you are not Silveria, for it is not possible for Silveria -to be without Mireno, or Mireno without Silveria. Then who am I, -hapless one? or who are you, ungrateful one? Full well I know that I -am not Mireno, for you have not wished to be Silveria, at least the -Silveria you ought to have been and I thought you were.' - -At this moment he raised his eyes, and as he saw the four shepherds -round him and recognised Elicio among them, he arose and without -ceasing his bitter plaint, threw his arms round his neck, saying to him: - -'Ah, my true friend, now indeed you will have no cause to envy my -state, as you envied it when you saw me favoured by Silveria; for, if -you called me happy then, you can call me hapless now, and change all -the glad names you gave me then, into the grievous ones you now can -give me. I indeed will be able to call you happy, Elicio, since you are -more consoled by the hope you have of being loved than afflicted by the -real fear of being forgotten.' - -'You make me perplexed, oh Mireno,' answered Elicio, 'to see the -extreme grief you display at what Silveria has done, when you know that -she has parents whom it was right to have obeyed.' - -'If she felt love,' replied Mireno, 'duty to parents were small -hindrance to keep her from fulfilling what she owed to love. Whence I -come to think, oh Elicio, that if she loved me well, she did ill to -marry, and if the love she used to show me was feigned, she did worse -in deceiving me and in offering to undeceive me at a time when it -cannot avail me save by leaving my life in her hands.' - -'Your life, Mireno,' replied Elicio, 'is not in such a pass that for -cure you have to end it, since it might be that the change in Silveria -was not in her will, but in the constraint of obedience to her parents; -and, if you loved her purely and honourably when a maid, you can also -love her now that she is wed, she responding now as then to your good -and honourable desires.' - -'Little do you know Silveria, Elicio,' answered Mireno, 'since you -imagine of her that she is likely to do aught that might make her -notorious.' - -'This very argument you have used, condemns you,' replied Elicio, -'since, if you, Mireno, know of Silveria that she will not do anything -which may be hurtful to her, she cannot have erred in what she has -done.' - -'If she has not erred,' answered Mireno, 'she has succeeded in robbing -me of all the fair issue I hoped from my fair thoughts; and only in -this do I blame her that she never warned me of this blow, nay rather, -when I had fears of it, she assured me with a firm oath that they were -fancies of mine, and that it had never entered her fancy to think of -marrying Daranio, nor, if she could not marry me, would she marry him -nor anyone else, though she were thereby to risk remaining in perpetual -disgrace with her parents and kinsmen; and under this assurance -and promise now to fail in and break her faith in the way you have -seen--what reason is there that would consent to such a thing, or what -heart that would suffer it?' - -Here Mireno once more renewed his plaint and here again the shepherds -had pity for him. At this moment two youths came up to where they were; -one of them was Mireno's kinsman, the other a servant of Daranio's who -came to summon Elicio, Thyrsis, Damon and Erastro, for the festivities -of his marriage were about to begin. It grieved the shepherds to leave -Mireno alone, but the shepherd his kinsman offered to remain with -him, and indeed Mireno told Elicio that he wished to go away from -that region, so as not to see every day before his eyes the cause of -his misfortune. Elicio praised his resolve and charged him, wherever -he might be, to inform him how it went with him. Mireno so promised -him; and drawing from his bosom a paper, he begged him to give it to -Silveria on finding an opportunity. Therewith he took leave of all the -shepherds, not without token of much grief and sadness. He had not gone -far from their presence, when Elicio, desirous of learning what was in -the paper, seeing that, since it was open, it mattered but little if -he read it, unfolded it, and inviting the other shepherds to listen to -him, saw that in it were written these verses: - - MIRENO TO SILVERIA. - - He who once gave unto thee - Most of all he did possess, - Unto thee now, shepherdess, - Sends what remnant there may be; - Even this poor paper where - Clearly written he hath shown - The faith that from thee hath gone, - What remains with him, despair. - - But perchance it doth avail - Little that I tell thee this, - If my faith bring me no bliss, - And my woe to please thee fail; - Think not that I seek to mourn, - To complain that thou dost leave me; - 'Tis too late that I should grieve me - For my early love forlorn. - - Time was when thou fain wouldst hear - All my tale of misery; - If a tear were in my eye, - Thou therewith wouldst shed a tear: - Then Mireno was in truth - He on whom thine eyes were set, - Changed thou art and dost forget, - All the joyous time of youth! - - Did that error but endure, - Tempered were my bitter sadness; - Fancied joy brings greater gladness - Than a loss well known and sure. - But 'twas thou that didst ordain - My misfortune and distress, - Making by thy fickleness - False my bliss and sure my pain. - - From thy words so full of lies - And my ears that, weak, believed, - Fancied joys have I received, - And undoubted miseries. - Seeming pleasures once me crowned - With the buoyancy of youth, - But the evils in their truth - To my sorrow do redound. - - Hence I judge and know full well, - And it cannot be denied, - That its glory and its pride - Love hath at the gates of hell; - Whoso doth not set his gaze - Upon Love, from joy to pain - By oblivion and disdain - Is brought in a moment's space. - - With such swiftness thou hast wrought - This mysterious transformation, - That already desperation - And not gain becomes my lot; - For methinks 'twas yesterday - Thou didst love me, or didst feign - Love at least, for this is plain, - What I must believe to-day. - - Still thy pleasing voice I hear - Uttering sweet and witty things, - Still thy loving reasonings - Are resounding in my ear; - But these memories at last, - Though they please, yet torture more, - Since away the breezes bore - Words and works adown the blast. - - Wert thou she who in her pride - Swore her days on earth should end, - If she did not love her friend - More than all she loved beside? - Wert thou she who to me showed - How she loved with such good-will, - That, although I was her ill, - She did hold me for her good? - - Oh if but I could thee hate - As thou hatest me, thy name - Would I brand with fitting shame, - Since thou'rt thankless and ingrate; - Yet it useless is for me - Thus to hate thee and disdain, - Love to me is greater gain - Than forgetfulness to thee. - - To my singing sad lament, - To my springtime winter's snow, - To my laughter bitter woe - Thy relentless hand hath sent - It has changed my joyous dress - To the garb of those that mourn, - Love's soft flower to poignant thorn, - Love's sweet fruit to bitterness. - - Thou wilt say--thereat I bleed-- - That thy marriage to this swain, - Thy forgetfulness again, - Is a noble honest deed; - If it were not known to thee - That in thy betrothal hour - My life ended evermore, - Then I might admit thy plea. - - But thy pleasure in a word - Pleasure was; but 'twas not just, - Since my faith and loyal trust - Did but earn unjust reward; - For my faith, since it doth see - How to show its faithfulness, - Wanes not through thy fickleness, - Faints not through my misery. - - None will wonder--surely no man, - When he comes to know the truth, - Seeing that I am a youth, - And, Silveria, thou art woman; - Ever in her, we believe, - Hath its home inconstancy; - Second nature 'tis to me - Thus to suffer and to grieve. - - Thee a wedded bride I view - Now repentant, making moan, - For it is a fact well known - That thou wilt in naught be true; - Gladly seek the yoke to bear - That thou on thy neck didst cast, - For thou may'st it hate at last, - But for ever 'twill be there. - - Yet so fickle is thy state, - And thy mood is so severe, - That what yesterday was dear - Thou must needs to-morrow hate; - Hence in some mysterious way, - 'Lovely 'midst her fickleness, - Fickle 'midst her loveliness,' - He who speaks of thee will say. - -The shepherds did not think ill of Mireno's verses, but of the -occasion for which they had been made, considering with what rapidity -Silveria's fickleness had brought him to the pass of abandoning his -beloved country and dear friends, each one fearful lest, as the result -of his suit, the same thing might happen to him. Then, after they had -entered the village and come to where Daranio and Silveria were, the -festivities began with as much joy and merriment as had been seen for -a long time on the banks of the Tagus; for, as Daranio was one of the -richest shepherds of all that district, and Silveria one of the fairest -shepherdesses of all the river-side, all or most of the shepherds -of those parts assisted at their wedding. And so there was a fine -gathering of discreet shepherds and fair shepherdesses, and amongst -those who excelled the rest in many different qualities were the sad -Orompo, the jealous Orfenio, the absent Crisio, and the love-lorn -Marsilio, all youths and all in love, though oppressed by different -passions, for sad Orompo was tormented by the untimely death of his -beloved Listea, jealous Orfenio by the unbearable rage of jealousy, -being in love with the fair shepherdess Eandra, absent Crisio by seeing -himself parted from Claraura, a fair and discreet shepherdess, whom he -counted his only joy, and despairing Marsilio by the hatred against -him existing in Belisa's breast. They were all friends and from the -same village; each was not ignorant of the other's love, but, on the -contrary, in mournful rivalry they had ofttimes come together, each to -extol the cause of his torment, seeking each one to show, as best he -could, that his grief exceeded every other, counting it the highest -glory to be superior in pain; and all had such wit, or, to express it -better, suffered such grief, that, however they might indicate it, -they showed it was the greatest that could be imagined. Through these -disputes and rivalries they were famous and renowned on all the banks -of the Tagus, and had caused in Thyrsis and Damon desire to know them; -and, seeing them there together, they offered one another courteous and -pleasing greetings, all especially regarding with admiration the two -shepherds Thyrsis and Damon, up till then only known to them by repute. -At this moment came the rich shepherd Daranio, dressed in mountain -garb; he wore a high-necked smock with pleated collar, a frieze vest, a -green coat cut low at the neck, breeches of fine linen, blue gaiters, -round shoes, a studded belt, and a quartered bonnet the colour of the -coat. No less finely adorned came forth his bride Silveria, for she -came with skirt and bodice of fawn, bordered with white satin, a tucker -worked with blue and green, a neckerchief of yellow thread sprinkled -with silver embroidery, the contrivance of Galatea and Florisa, who -dressed her, a turquoise-coloured coif with fringes of red silk, -gilded pattens of cork, dainty close-fitting shoes, rich corals, a ring -of gold, and above all her beauty, which adorned her more than all. -After her came the peerless Galatea, like the sun after the dawn, and -her friend Florisa, with many other fair shepherdesses, who had come to -the wedding to honour it; and amongst them, too, came Teolinda, taking -care to conceal her face from the eyes of Damon and Thyrsis, so as not -to be recognised by them. And straightway the shepherdesses, following -the shepherds their guides, to the sound of many rustic instruments, -made their way to the temple, during which time Elicio and Erastro -found time to feast their eyes on Galatea's fair countenance, desiring -that that way might last longer than the long wandering of Ulysses. -And, at the joy of seeing her, Erastro was so beside himself, that -addressing Elicio he said to him: - -'What are you looking at, shepherd, if you are not looking at Galatea? -But how will you be able to look at the sun of her locks, the heaven -of her brow, the stars of her eyes, the snow of her countenance, the -crimson of her cheeks, the colour of her lips, the ivory of her teeth, -the crystal of her neck, and the marble of her breast?' - -'All this have I been able to see, oh Erastro,' replied Elicio, 'and -naught of all you have said is the cause of my torment, but it is the -hardness of her disposition, for if it were not such as you know, all -the graces and beauties you recognise in Galatea would be the occasion -of our greater glory.' - -'You say well,' said Erastro; 'but yet you will not be able to deny to -me, that if Galatea were not so fair, she would not be so desired, and -if she were not so desired, our pain would not be so great, since it -all springs from desire.' - -'I cannot deny to you, Erastro,' replied Elicio, 'that all grief and -sorrow whatsoever springs from the want and lack of that which we -desire; but at the same time I wish to tell you that the quality of -the love with which I thought you loved Galatea has fallen greatly in -my estimation, for if you merely love her because she is fair, she -has very little to thank you for, since there will be no man, however -rustic he be, who sees her but desires her, for beauty, wherever it be, -carries with it the power of creating desire. Thus no reward is due to -this simple desire, because it is so natural, for if it were due, by -merely desiring Heaven, we would have deserved it. But you see already, -Erastro, that the opposite is so much the case, as our true law has -shown to us; and granted that beauty and loveliness are a principal -factor in attracting us to desire them and to seek to enjoy them, he -who would be a true lover must not count such enjoyment his highest -good; but rather, though beauty causes this desire in him, he must -love the one only because the desire is honourable, without any other -interest moving him, and this can be called, even in things of this -life, perfect and true love, and is worthy of gratitude and reward. -Just as we see that the Maker of all things openly and fittingly -rewards those who, not being moved by any other interest, whether of -fear, pain, or hope of glory, love Him, worship Him, and serve Him only -because he is good and worthy of being worshipped; and this is the last -and greatest perfection contained in divine love, and in human love, -too, when one does not love except because what one loves is good, -without there being an error of judgment, for ofttimes the bad seems to -us good, and the good bad, and so we love the one and abhor the other, -and such love as this does not deserve reward but punishment. I wish to -imply from all I have said, oh Erastro, that if you love and worship -Galatea's beauty with intent to enjoy it, and the goal of your desire -stops at this point without passing on to love her virtue, her increase -of fame, her welfare, her life and prosperity, know that you do not -love as you ought, nor ought you to be rewarded as you wish.' - -Erastro would fain have replied to Elicio, and given him to understand -that he did not understand rightly concerning the love with which he -loved Galatea; but this was prevented by the sound of the pipe of -loveless Lenio, who also wished to be present at Daranio's wedding, and -to gladden the festivities with his song; and so setting himself in -front of the betrothed pair, whilst they were going to the temple, to -the sound of Eugenio's rebeck he went singing these verses: - -LENIO. - Unknown, ungrateful Love, that dost appal - At times the gallant hearts of all our race, - And with vain shapes and shades fantastical - In the free soul dost countless fetters place, - If, proud of godhead, thou thyself dost call - By such a lofty name, spurn in disgrace - Him, who, surrendered to the marriage tie, - To a new noose would yield his fantasy. - - Strive thou that pure and spotless evermore - The law of holy wedlock may remain, - Turn thou thy mind thereto with all thy power, - Unfurl thy banner on this fair champaign, - See what sweet fruit he hopes, what lovely flower, - For little toil, who doth himself constrain - To bear this yoke, as duty bids and right; - For, though a burden, 'tis a burden light. - - Thou canst, if thou no more rememberest - Thy misdeeds and thy peevish character, - Make glad the marriage bed, the happy nest, - Wherein the nuptial yoke unites the pair; - Set thyself in their soul, and in their breast - Until their life have ended its career, - Then may they go (and to this hope we cling) - To enjoy the pleasures of the eternal spring. - - Do thou the shepherd's tiny cot pass by, - To do his duty leave the shepherd free, - Fly higher yet, since thou so high dost fly, - Seek for a better pastime, nobler be: - To make of souls a sacrifice on high - Thou toilest and dost watch;--'tis vanity, - If thou dost bring them not with better mind - To the sweet union Hymen hath designed. - - The mighty hand of thy amazing might - Thou canst herein to all the world display, - Making the tender bride in love delight, - And by her bridegroom be beloved alway; - The infernal jealous madness that doth blight - Their peace and comfort, thou canst drive away; - Suffer not scornful harsh disdain to keep - Far from their eyelids sweet refreshing sleep. - - But if the prayers of him who was thy friend - Have never, traitorous Love, been heard by thee, - To these of mine thou wilt no hearing lend, - For I thy foe am, and shall ever be; - Thy character, thy works of evil end, - Whereof is witness all humanity, - Lead me to expect not from thy hand a wealth - Of peace or fortune, happiness or health. - -Already those who listened to the loveless Lenio as they went along -were wondering at seeing with what meekness he was treating the things -of Love, calling him a god, and of a mighty hand--a thing they had -never heard him say. But having heard the verses with which he ended -his song, they could not refrain from laughter, for it already seemed -to them that he was getting angry as he went on, and that if he -proceeded further in his song, he would deal with love as he was wont -at other times; but time failed him, for the way was at an end. And so, -when they had come to the temple, and the usual ceremonies had been -performed therein by the priests, Daranio and Silveria remained bound -in a tight and perpetual knot, not without the envy of many who saw -them, nor without the grief of some who coveted Silveria's beauty. But -every grief would have been surpassed by that which the hapless Mireno -would have felt, had he been present at this spectacle. The wedded -pair having returned from the temple with the same company that had -escorted them, came to the village square, where they found the tables -set, and where Daranio wished publicly to make a demonstration of his -wealth, offering to all the people a liberal and sumptuous feast. The -square was so covered with branches, that it seemed a lovely green -forest, the branches interwoven above in such wise that the sun's keen -rays in all that compass found no entry to warm the cool ground, which -was covered with many sword-lilies and a great diversity of flowers. -There, then, to the general content of all was celebrated the liberal -banquet, to the sound of many pastoral instruments, which gave no less -pleasure than is wont to be given by the bands playing in harmony usual -in royal palaces; but that which most exalted the feast was to see, -that, on removing the tables, they made with much speed in the same -place a stage, because the four discreet and hapless shepherds, Orompo, -Marsilio, Crisio, and Orfenio, so as to honour their friend Daranio's -wedding, and to satisfy the desire Thyrsis and Damon had to hear them, -wished there in public to recite an eclogue, which they themselves -had composed on the occasion of their own griefs. All the shepherds -and shepherdesses who were there being then arranged in their seats, -after that Erastro's pipe, and Lenio's lyre and the other instruments -made those present keep peaceful and marvellous silence, the first who -showed himself in the humble theatre was the sad Orompo, clad in black -skin-coat, and a crook of yellow box-wood in his hand, the end of which -was an ugly figure of Death. He came crowned with leaves of mournful -cypress, all emblems of grief which reigned in him by reason of the -untimely death of his beloved Listea; and after he had, with sad look, -turned his weeping eyes in all directions, with tokens of infinite -grief and bitterness he broke the silence with words like these: - -OROMPO. - Come from the depths of my grief-stricken breast, - Oh words of blood, with death commingled come, - Break open the left side that keeps you dumb, - If 'tis my sighs perchance that hold you fast. - The air impedes you, for 'tis fired at last - By the fierce poison of your utterance; - Come forth and let the breezes bear you hence, - As they have borne my bliss adown the blast. - - For ye will lose but little when ye see - Yourselves lost, since your lofty theme has gone, - For whom in weighty style and perfect tone - Utterance ye gave to things of high degree. - Famed were ye once, of high renown were ye, - For sweetness, and for wittiness and gladness; - But now for bitterness, for tears and sadness, - Will ye by Heaven and earth appraisèd be. - - Although ye issue trembling at my cry - With what words can ye utter what I feel, - If my fierce torment is incapable - Of being as 'tis painted vividly? - Alas, for neither means nor time have I - To express the pain and sinking at my heart; - But what my tongue doth lack to tell its smart, - My eyes by constant weeping may supply. - - Oh death, who cuttest short by cruel guile - A thousand pleasant purposes of man, - And in a moment turnest hill to plain, - Making Henares equal unto Nile, - Why didst thou temper not thy cruel style, - Traitor, and why didst thou, in my despite, - Make trial on a bosom fair and white - Of thy fierce hanger's edge with fury vile? - - How came it that the green and tender years - Of that fair lamb did, false one, thee displease? - Wherefore didst thou my woes by hers increase? - Why didst thou show thyself to her so fierce? - Enemy mine, friend of deceitful cares, - Goest thou from me who seek thee, and concealest - Thyself from me, while thou thyself revealest - To him who more than I thy evils fears? - - On riper years thy law tyrannical - Might well its giant vigour have displayed, - Nor dealt its cruel blow against a maid, - Who hath of living had enjoyment small; - But yet thy sickle which arrangeth all-- - By no prayer turned aside nor word of power-- - Moweth with ruthless blade the tender flower - E'en as the knotty reed, stalwart and tall. - - When thou Listea from the world away - Didst take, thy nature and thy strength, thy worth, - Thy spirit, wrath and lordship to the earth - Thou didst by that proud deed alone display. - All that the earth possesseth fair and gay, - Graceful and witty, thou didst likewise doom, - When thou didst doom Listea; in her tomb - Thou didst with her this wealth of blisses lay. - - My painful life grows longer, and its weight - I can no more upon my shoulders bear, - For without her I am in darkness drear; - His life is death who is not fortunate. - I have no hope in fortune nor in fate, - I have no hope in time, no hope in Heaven; - I may not hope for solace to be given, - Nor yet for good where evil is so great. - - Oh ye who feel what sorrow is, come, find - In mine your consolation, when ye see - Its strength, its vigour and alacrity; - Then ye will see how far yours falls behind. - Where are ye now, shepherds graceful and kind, - Crisio, Marsilio, and Orfenio? What - Do ye? Why come ye not? Why count ye not - Mine greater far than troubles of your mind? - - But who is this who cometh into sight, - Emerging at the crossing of yon path? - Marsilio 'tis, whom Love as prisoner hath, - The cause Belisa, her praise his delight. - The fierce snake of disdain with cruel bite - His soul doth ever gnaw and eke his breast, - He spends his life in torment without rest, - And yet not his but mine the blacker plight. - - He thinks the ill that makes his soul complain - Is greater than the sorrow of my woe. - Within this thicket 'twill be well to go, - That I may see if he perchance complain. - Alas! to think to match it with the pain - That never leaves me is but vanity. - The road mine opens that to ill draws nigh, - Closing the pathway that doth bliss attain. - -MARSILIO. - Oh steps that by steps bring - Me to death's agonies - I am constrained to blame your tardiness! - Unto the sweet lot cling, - For in your swiftness lies - My bliss, and in such hour of bitterness. - Behold, me to distress, - The hardness of my foe - Within her angry breast, - Hostile unto my rest, - Doth ever do what it was wont to do, - And therefore let us flee, - If but we can, from her dread cruelty. - - To what clime shall I go, - Or to what land unknown - To make my dwelling there, that I may be - Safe from tormenting woe, - From sad and certain moan, - Which shall not end till it hath ended me? - Whether I stay or flee - To Libya's sandy plains - Or to the dwelling-place - Of Scythia's savage race, - One thing alone doth mitigate my pain; - That a contented mind - I do not in a change of dwelling find. - - It wins me everywhere, - The rigorous disdain - Of her that hath no peer, my cruel foe, - And yet an issue fair - 'Tis not for me to gain - From Love or hope amidst such cruel woe. - Belisa, daylight's glow, - Thou glory of our age, - If prayers of a friend - Have power thy will to bend, - Temper of thy right hand the ruthless rage! - The fire my breast doth hold, - May it have power in thine to melt the cold. - - Yet deaf unto my cry, - Ruthless and merciless, - As to the wearied mariner's appeal - The tempest raging by - That stirs the angry sea, - Threatening to life the doom unspeakable, - Adamant, marble, steel, - And rugged Alpine brow, - The sturdy holm-oak old, - The oak that to the cold - North wind its lofty crest doth never bow, - All gentle are and kind - Compared unto the wrath in thee we find. - - My hard and bitter fate, - My unrelenting star, - My will that bears it all and suffereth, - This doom did promulgate, - Thankless Belisa fair, - That I should serve and love thee e'en in death - Though thy brow threateneth - With ruthless, angry frown, - And though thine eyes so clear - A thousand woes declare, - Yet mistress of this soul I shall thee crown, - - Until a mortal veil - Of flesh no more on earth my soul conceal. - - Can there be good that vies - With my tormenting ill, - Can any earthly ill such anguish give? - For each of them doth rise - Far beyond human skill, - And without her in living death I live, - In disdain I revive - My faith, and there 'tis found - Burnt with the chilly cold. - What vanity behold, - The unwonted sorrow that my soul doth wound! - Can it be equal, see, - Unto the ill that fain would greater be? - - But who is he who stirs - The interwoven boughs - Of this round-crested myrtle, thick and green? - -OROMPO. - A shepherd who avers, - Reasoning from his woes, - Founding his words upon the truth therein, - That it must needs be seen - His sorrow doth surpass - The sorrow thou dost feel, - The higher thou mayst raise it, - Exalt it, and appraise it. - -MARS. - Conquered wilt thou remain in such a deal, - Orompo, friend so true. - And thou thyself shalt witness be thereto. - If of my agonies, - If of my maddening ill, - The very smallest part thou didst but know, - Thy vanities would cease, - For thou wouldst see that still - My sufferings all are true, and thine but show. - -OROMPO. - Deem thy mysterious woe - A phantom of the mind, - Than mine, that doth distress - My life, reckon thine less, - For I will save thee from thine error blind, - And the dear truth reveal, - That thy ill is a shadow, mine is real. - But, lo! the voice I hear - Of Crisio, sounding plain. - A shepherd he, whose views with thine agree, - To him let us give ear, - For his distressful pain - Maketh him swell with pride, as thine doth thee. - -MARS. - To-day time offers me - Place and occasion where - I can display to both - And prove to you the truth - That only I misfortune know and care. - -OROMPO. - Marsilio, now attend - Unto the voice and sad theme of thy friend. - -CRISIO. - Ah! hard oppressive absence, sad and drear, - How far must he have been from knowing thee, - Who did thy force and violence compare - To death's invincible supremacy! - For when death doth pronounce his doom severe, - What then can he do more, so weak is he, - That to undo the knot and stoutest tether - That holdeth soul and body firm together? - - Thy cruel sword to greater ill extends, - Since into two one spirit it doth part. - Love's miracles, which no man understands, - Nor are attained by learning or by art. - Oh let my soul with one who understands, - There leave its half, and bring the weaker part - Hither, whereby more ill I on me lay, - Than if from life I were far, far away! - - Away am I from yonder eyes so fair, - Which calmed my torment in my hour of need, - Eyes, life of him who could behold them clear, - If they the fancy did not further lead; - For to behold and think of merit there - Is but a foolish, daring, reckless deed, - I see them not, I saw them to my wrong, - And now I perish, for to see I long. - - Longing have I, and rightly, to behold-- - The term of my distress to abbreviate-- - This friendship rent in twain which hath of old - United soul to flesh with love so great, - That from the frame set free which doth it hold, - With ready speed and wondrous flight elate, - It will be able to behold again - Those eyes, relief and glory to its pain. - - Pain is the payment and the recompense - That Love doth to the absent lover give; - Herein is summed all suffering and offence, - That in Love's sufferings we do perceive; - Neither to use discretion for defence, - Nor in the fire of loyal love to live - With thoughts exalted, doth avail to assuage - This torment's cruel pain and violent rage. - - Raging and violent is this cruel distress, - And yet withal so long doth it endure, - That, ere it endeth, endeth steadfastness, - And even life's career, wretched and poor; - Death, jealousy, disdain, and fickleness, - An unkind, angry heart, do not assure - Such torment, nor inflict wounds so severe, - As doth this ill, whose very name is fear. - - Fearful it were, did not a grief, so fierce - As this, produce in me such mortal grief; - And yet it is not mortal, since my years - End not, though I am absent from my life; - But I'll no more my woeful song rehearse, - For to such swains, in charm and wisdom chief, - As those I see before me, 'twill be right - That I should show to see them more delight. - -OROMPO. - Delight thy presence gives us, Crisio friend, - And more, because thou comest at an hour, - When we our ancient difference may end. - -CRISIO. - If it delights thee, come, let us once more - Begin, for in Marsilio of our strife - A righteous judge we have to plead before. - -MARS. - Clearly ye show and prove your error rife, - Wherewith ye twain are so besotted, drawn - By the vain fancy that rules o'er your life, - - Since ye wish that the sorrows ye bemoan, - Although so small, should be to mine preferred, - Bewailed enough, and yet so little known. - - But that it may by earth and Heaven be heard, - How far your sorrows fall below the pain - That hath my soul beset and hope deferred, - - I will the least my bosom doth contain, - Put forth, with all the feeble wit I have-- - Methinks the victory in your strife I'll gain-- - - And unto you I shall the verdict leave, - To judge my ill whether it harroweth - More than the absence which doth Crisio grieve, - - Or than the dread and bitter ill of death; - For each of you doth heedless make his plaint, - Bitter and brief he calls the lot he hath. - -OROMPO. - Thereat I feel, Marsilio, much content, - Because the reason I have on my side, - Hath to my anguish hope of triumph sent. - -CRISIO. - Although the skill is unto me denied - To exaggerate, when I my grief proclaim, - Ye will behold how yours are set aside. - -MARS. - Unto the deathless hardness of my dame - What absence reaches? Though so hard is she, - Mistress of beauty her the world acclaim. - -OROMPO. - At what a happy hour and juncture see, - Orfenio comes in sight! Be ye intent, - And ye will hear him weigh his misery. - - 'Tis jealousy that doth his soul torment, - A very knife is jealousy, the sure - Disturber of Love's peace and Love's content. - -CRISIO. - Hearken, he sings the griefs he doth endure. - -ORFENIO. - Oh gloomy shadow, thou that followest - My sorrowing and confused fancy still, - Thou darkness irksome, thou that, cold and chill, - Hast ever my content and light oppressed. - - When will it be that thou thy bitterest - Wrath wilt assuage, cruel monster, harpy fell? - What dost thou gain to make my joy a hell? - What bliss, that thou my bliss dost from me wrest? - - But if the mood thou dost upon thee take, - Leadeth thee on to seek his life to steal, - Who life and being unto thee did give, - - Methinks I should not wonder thou dost wreak - Thy will upon me, and upon my weal, - But that despite my woes, I yet do live. - -OROMPO. - If the delightful mead - Is pleasant to thee as 'twas wont to be - In times that now are dead, - Come hither; thou art free - To spend the day in our sad company. - - He that is sad agrees - Easily with the sad, as thou must know; - Come hither, here one flees, - Beside this clear spring's flow, - The sun's bright rays that high in heaven glow. - - Come and thyself defend, - As is thy custom, raise thy wonted strain, - Against each sorrowing friend. - For each doth strive amain - To show that his alone is truly pain. - - I only in the strife - Must needs opponent be to each and all, - The sorrow of my life - I can indeed extol, - But cannot give expression to the whole. - -ORFENIO. - The luscious grassy sward - Is not unto the hungry lamb so sweet, - Nor health once more restored - Doth he so gladly greet - Who had already held its loss complete, - - As pleasant 'tis for me - In the contest that is at hand to show - That the cruel misery - My suffering heart doth know - Is far above the greatest here below. - - Orompo, speak no word - Of thy great ill, Crisio, thy grief contain, - Let naught from thee be heard, - Marsilio; death, disdain, - Absence, seek not to rival jealous pain. - - But if Heaven so desires - That we to-day should seek the battle-field, - Begin, whoso aspires, - And of his sorrow yield - Token with all the skill his tongue can wield. - - A truthful history - In the pure truth doth find its resting-place. - For it can never be, - That elegance and grace - Of speech can form its substance and its base. - -CRISIO. - Shepherd, in this great arrogance I feel - Thou wilt reveal the folly of thy life - When in this strife of passions we engage. - -ORFENIO. - Thy pride assuage or show it in its hour, - Thine anguish sore is but a pastime, friend, - The souls that bend in grief, because they go - Away, their woe must needs exaggerate. - -CRISIO. - So strange and great the torment is I moan, - That thou full soon thyself, I trust, wilt say - That nothing may with my fatigues compare. - -MARS. - An evil star shone on me from my birth. - -OROMPO. - Ere yet on earth I came, methinks e'en then - Misfortune, pain, and misery, were mine. - -ORFENIO. - In me divine the greatest of ill-fortune. - -CRISIO. - Thy ill is fortune, when to mine compared. - -MARS. - When it is paired with my mysterious ill, - The wound that kills you is but glory plain. - -OROMPO. - This tangled skein will soon be very clear, - When bright and clear my grief it doth reveal. - Let none conceal the pain his breast within, - For I the tale of mine do now begin. - - In good ground my hopes were sown, - Goodly fruit they promised then, - But when their desire was known, - And their willingness was shown, - Heaven changed their fruit to pain. - I beheld their wondrous flower, - Eager happiness to shower - On me--thousand proofs it gave-- - Death that envious did it crave - Plucked it in that very hour. - - Like the labourer was I, - Who doth toil without relief - And with lingering energy, - Winning from his destiny - But the bitter fruit of grief: - Destiny doth take away - All hope of a better day, - For the Heaven that to him brings - Confidence of better things - It beneath the earth did lay. - - If to this pass I attain, - That e'en now I live, despairing - Whether I shall glory gain. - Since I suffer beyond bearing, - 'Tis a certain truth and plain: - That amidst the darkest gloom - Hope assures that there shall come - Yet a happier, brighter dawn. - Woe for him, whose hope is gone, - Buried in the hopeless tomb. - -MARS. - From mine eyes the tear-drops fall - On a spot where many a thorn, - Many a bramble, hath been born - To my hurt, for, once and all, - They my loving heart have torn: - I am luckless, yes, 'tis I, - Though my cheeks were never dry - For a moment in my grief, - Yet nor fruit, nor flower, nor leaf, - Have I won, howe'er I try. - - For my bosom would be stilled, - If I might a token see - Of some gain, small though it be; - Though it never were fulfilled, - I should win felicity: - For the worth I should behold - Of my fond persistence bold - Over her who doth so scorn, - That she at my chill doth burn, - At my fire is chilly cold. - - But if all the toil is vain - Of my mourning and my sigh, - And I still cease not my cry, - With my more than human pain - What on earth can hope to vie? - Dead the cause is of thy grief, - This, Orompo, brings relief, - And thy sorrow doth suppress; - But when my grief most doth press - On me, 'tis beyond belief. - -CRISIO. - Once the fruit that was the dower - Of my ceaseless adoration - I held in its ripest hour; - Ere I tasted it, occasion - Came and snatched it from my power: - I above the rest the name - Of unfortunate can claim, - Since to suffering I shall come, - For no longer lies my doom - Where I left my soul aflame. - - When death robs us of our bliss, - We for ever from it part, - And we find relief in this. - Time can soften e'en the heart - Hard and firm against Love's cries. - But in absence we the pain - Of death, jealousy, disdain, - Feel with ne'er a glimpse of gladness,-- - Strange it is--hence fear and sadness - With the absent one remain. - - When the hope at hand is near, - And the accomplishment delays, - Harder is the pain we bear, - And affliction reacheth where - Hope doth never lift its gaze; - In the lesser pangs ye feel - 'Tis the remedy of your ill - Not to hope for remedy, - But this solace faileth me, - For the pangs of absence kill. - -ORFENIO. - Lo, the fruit that had been sown - By my toil that had no end, - When to sweetness it had grown, - Was by destiny my friend - Given to me for my own. - Scarce to this unheard of pass - Could I come, when I, alas! - Came the bitter truth to know, - That I should but grief and woe - From that happiness amass. - - In my hand the fruit I hold, - And to hold it wearies me, - For amidst my woes untold - In the largest ear I see - A worm gnawing, fierce and bold; - I abhor what I adore, - And that which doth life restore - Brings death; for myself I shape - Winding mazes, whence escape - Is denied for evermore. - - In my loss for death I sigh, - For 'tis life unto my woe. - In the truth I find a lie, - Greater doth the evil grow - Whether I be far or nigh; - No hope is there that is sure - Such an ill as this to cure; - Whether I remain or go, - Of this living death the woe - I must evermore endure. - -OROMPO. - 'Tis sure an error clear - To argue that the loss which death hath sent - Since it extends so far, - Doth bring in part content, - Because it takes away - The hope that fosters grief and makes it stay. - - If of the glory dead - The memory that doth disturb our peace - Forever shall have fled, - The sorrow doth decrease, - Which at its loss we feel, - Since we can hope no more to keep it still. - - But if the memory stays, - The memory of the bliss already fled - Doth live the more and blaze - Than when possessed indeed; - Who doubteth that this pain - Doth more than others untold miseries gain? - -MARS. - If it should be the chance - Of a poor traveller by some unknown way - To find at his advance - Fleeing at close of day - The inn of his desire, - The inn for which he doth in vain aspire, - - Doubtless he will remain - Dazed by the fear the dark and silent night - Inspires, and yet again - Hapless will be his plight, - If dawn comes not, for Heaven - To him hath not its gladdening radiance given. - - The traveller am I, - I journey on to reach a happy inn; - Whene'er I think that nigh - I come to enter in, - Then, like a fleeting shadow, - Bliss flees away, and grief doth overshadow. - -CRISIO. - E'en as the torrent deep - Is wont the traveller's weary steps to hold, - And doth the traveller keep - 'Midst wind and snow and cold, - And, just a little space - Beyond, the inn appears before his face, - - E'en so my happiness - Is by this painful tedious absence stayed; - To comfort my distress - 'Tis ever sore afraid, - And yet before mine eyes - I see the healer of my miseries. - - And thus to see so near - The cure of my distress afflicts me sore, - And makes it greater far, - Because my bliss before - My hand doth further flee - For some strange cause, the nearer 'tis to me. - -ORFENIO. - I saw before mine eyes - A noble inn, that did in bliss abound, - I triumphed in my prize, - Too soon, alas, I found - That vile it had become, - Changed by my fate to darkness and to gloom. - - There, where we ever see - The bliss of those who love each other well, - There is my misery; - There where is wont to dwell - All bliss, is evil plain, - United in alliance with disdain. - - In this abode I lie-- - And never do I strive to issue hence-- - Built by my agony, - And with so strange a fence, - Methinks they to the ground - Bring it, who love, see, and resist its wound. - -OROMPO. - Sooner the path that is his own, the sun - Shall end, whereon he wanders through the sky - After he hath through all the Zodiac run, - - Than we the least part of our agony - According to our pain can well declare, - However much we raise our speech on high. - - He who lives absent dies, says Crisio there, - But I, that I am dead, since to the reign - Of death fate handed o'er my life's career. - - And boldly thou, Marsilio, dost maintain - That thou of joy and bliss hast lost all chance, - Since that which slayeth thee is fierce disdain. - - Unto this thought thou givest utterance, - Orfenio, that 'tis through thy soul doth pass, - Not through thy breast alone, the jealous lance. - - As each the woes through which his fellows pass - Feels not, he praiseth but the grief he knows, - Thinking it doth his fellows' pangs surpass. - - Wherefore his bank rich Tagus overflows, - Swollen by our strife of tears and mournfulness, - Wherein with piteous words we moan our woes. - - Our pain doth not thereby become the less, - Rather because we handle so the wound, - It doth condemn us to the more distress. - - We must our plaints renew with all the sound - Our tongues can utter, and with all the thought - That can within our intellects be found. - - Then let us cease our disputation, taught - That every ill doth anguish bring and pain, - Nor is there good with sure contentment fraught. - - Sufficient ill he hath that doth constrain - His life within the confines of a tomb, - And doth in bitter loneliness remain, - - Unhappy he--and mournful is his doom-- - Who suffereth the pangs of jealousy, - In whom nor strength nor judgment findeth room, - - And he, who spends his days in misery, - By the cruel power of absence long oppressed, - Patience his only staff, weak though it be; - - Nor doth the eager lover suffer least - Who feels, when most he burns, his lady's power, - By her hard heart and coldness sore distressed. - -CRISIO. - His bidding let us do, for lo, the hour - E'en now with rapid flight comes on apace, - When we our herds must needs collect once more. - - And while unto the wonted sheltering-place - We go, and whilst the radiant sun to rest - Sinketh and from the meadow hides his face, - - With bitter voice and mourning manifest, - Making the while harmonious melody, - Sing we the grief that hath our souls oppressed. - -MARS. - Begin then, Crisio, may thine accents fly - With speed unto Claraura's ears once more, - Borne gently by the winds that hasten by, - As unto one who doth their grief restore. - -CRISIO. - Whoso from the grievous cup - Of dread absence comes to drink, - Hath no ill from which to shrink, - Nor yet good for which to hope. - - In this bitter misery - Every evil is contained: - Fear lest we should be disdained, - Of our rivals' jealousy. - - Whoso shall with absence cope, - Straightway will he come to think - That from no ill can he shrink, - Nor for any good can hope. - -OROMPO. - True 'tis ill that makes me sigh - More than any death I know, - Since life findeth cause of woe - In that death doth pass it by. - - For when death did take away - All my glory and content, - That it might the more torment, - It allowed my life to stay. - - Evil comes, and hastily - With such swiftness good doth go, - That life findeth cause of woe - In that death doth pass it by. - -MARS. - In my dread and grievous woe - Now are wanting to my eyes - Tears, and breath unto my sighs, - Should my troubles greater grow, - - For ingratitude, disdain, - Hold me in their toils so fast - That from death I hope at last - Longer life and greater gain. - - Little can it linger now, - Since are wanting to my eyes - Tears, and breath unto my sighs, - Should my troubles greater grow. - -ORFENIO. - If it could, my joy should be - Truly all things else above: - If but jealousy were love, - And if love were jealousy. - - From this transformation I - So much bliss and pride should gain - That of love I would attain - To the palm and victory. - - If 'twere so, then jealousy - Would so much my champion prove, - That, if jealousy were love, - Nothing I save love should be. - -With this last song of the jealous Orfenio, the discreet shepherds -made an end of their eclogue, leaving all who had heard them satisfied -with their discretion: especially Damon and Thyrsis, who felt great -pleasure at hearing them, for it seemed to them that the reasonings -and arguments which the four shepherds had propounded to carry through -their proposition, seemed of more than shepherd wit. But a contest -having arisen between many of the bystanders as to which of the four -had pleaded his cause best, at last the opinion of all came to agree -with that which discreet Damon gave, saying to them that he for his -part held that, among all the distasteful and unpleasing things that -love brings with it, nothing so much distresses the loving breast -as the incurable plague of jealousy, and neither Orompo's loss, nor -Crisio's absence, nor Marsilio's despair could be equalled to it. - -'The cause is,' he said, 'that it is not in reason that things which -have become impossible of attainment should be able for long to compel -the will to love them, or weary the desire to attain them; for when -a man has the will and desire to attain the impossible, it is clear -that the more desire is excessive in him, the more he would lack -understanding. And for this same reason I say that the pain Orompo -suffers is but grief and pity for a lost happiness; and because he has -lost it in such a way that it is not possible to recover it again, this -impossibility must be the cause of his sorrow ending. For although -human understanding cannot be always so united with reason as to cease -feeling the loss of the happiness which cannot be recovered, and must -in fact give tokens of its feeling by tender tears, ardent sighs, and -piteous words, under pain, should one not do this, of being counted -rather brute than rational man--in a word, the course of time cures -this sorrowing, reason softens it, and new events have a great share -in blotting it from memory. All this is the contrary in absence, as -Crisio well pointed out in his verses, for, as in the absent one, hope -is so united to desire, the postponement of return gives him terrible -distress; seeing that, as nothing hinders him from enjoying his -happiness except some arm of the sea, or some stretch of land, it seems -to him, having the chief thing, which is the good-will of the beloved -person, that flagrant wrong is done to his bliss, in that things so -trivial as a little water or land should hinder his happiness and -glory. To this pain are also joined the fear of being forgotten, and -the changes of human hearts; and so long as absence endures, strange -without a doubt is the harshness and rigour with which it treats the -soul of the hapless absent one. But as it has the remedy so near, which -consists in return, its torment can be borne with some ease; and if it -should happen that the absence should be such that it is impossible -to return to the desired presence, that impossibility comes to be the -remedy, as in the case of death. As for the sorrow of which Marsilio -complains, though it is, as it were, the same that I suffer, and on -this account must needs have seemed to me greater than any other, I -will not therefore fail to say what reason shows me, rather than that -to which passion urges me. I confess that it is a terrible sorrow to -love and not be loved; but 'twould be a greater to love and be loathed. -And if we new lovers guided ourselves by what reason and experience -teach us, we would see that every beginning in anything is difficult, -and that this rule suffers no exception in the affairs of love, but -rather in them is confirmed and strengthened the more; so that for the -new lover to complain of the hardness of his lady's rebellious breast, -goes beyond all bounds of reason. For as love is, and has to be, -voluntary, and not constrained, I ought not to complain of not being -loved by anyone I love, nor ought I to attach importance to the burden -I impose on her, telling her that she is obliged to love me since I -love her; seeing that, though the beloved person ought, in accordance -with the law of nature and with fair courtesy, not to show herself -ungrateful toward him who loves her well, it must not for this reason -be a matter of constraint and obligation that she should respond, -all in all, to her lover's desires. For if this were so, there would -be a thousand importunate lovers who would gain by their solicitude -what would perhaps not be due to them of right; and as love has the -understanding for father, it may be that she who is well loved by me -does not find in me qualities so good as to move her and incline her -to love me. And so she is not obliged, as I have already said, to love -me, in the same way that I shall be obliged to adore her, for I found -in her what is lacking in me; and for this reason he who is disdained -ought not to complain of his beloved, but of his fortune, which denied -him the graces that might move his lady's understanding to love him -well. And so he ought to seek, with constant services, with loving -words, with not unseasonable presence, and with practised virtues, to -improve and amend in himself the fault that nature caused; for this -is so essential a remedy that I am ready to affirm that it will be -impossible for him to fail to be loved, who, by means so fitting, shall -seek to win his lady's good-will. And since this evil of disdain has -with it the good of this cure, let Marsilio console himself, and pity -the hapless and jealous Orfenio, in whose misfortune is enclosed the -greatest that can be imagined in those of love. Oh jealousy, disturber -of the tranquil peace of love! jealousy, knife of the firmest hopes! -I know not what he could know of lineage who made thee child of love, -since thou art so much the contrary, that, for that very reason, -love would have ceased to be love, had it begotten such children. Oh -jealousy, hypocrite and false thief! seeing that, in order that account -may be taken of thee in the world, as soon as thou seest any spark -of love born in any breast, thou seekest to mingle with it, changing -thyself to its colour, and even seekest to usurp from it the lordship -and dominion it has. Hence it comes that as men see thee so united with -love, though by thy results thou showest that thou art not love itself, -yet thou seekest to give the ignorant man to understand that thou -art love's son, though in truth thou art born from a low suspicion, -begotten by a vile and ill-starred fear, nurtured at the breast of -false imaginings, growing up amidst vilest envies, sustained by -slanders and falsehoods. And that we may see the ruin caused in loving -hearts by this cursed affliction of raging jealousy, when the lover is -jealous, it behoves him, with the leave of jealous lovers be it said, -it behoves him, I say, to be, as he is, traitorous, cunning, truculent, -slanderous, capricious, and even ill-bred; and so far extends the -jealous rage that masters him, that the person he loves most is the one -to whom he wishes the most ill. The jealous lover would wish that his -lady were fair for him alone, and ugly for all the world; he desires -that she may not have eyes to see more than he might wish, nor ears to -hear, nor tongue to speak; that she may be retiring, insipid, proud -and ill-mannered; and at times he even desires, oppressed by this -devilish passion, that his lady should die, and that all should end. -All these passions jealousy begets in the minds of jealous lovers; -the opposite to the virtues which pure and simple love multiplies -in true and courteous lovers, for in the breast of a good lover are -enclosed discretion, valour, generosity, courtesy, and all that can -make him praiseworthy in the eyes of men. At the same time the force -of this cruel poison contains yet more, for there is no antidote to -preserve it, counsel to avail it, friend to aid it, nor excuse to fit -it; all this is contained in the jealous lover, and more--every shadow -terrifies him, every trifle disturbs him, and every suspicion, false or -true, undoes him. And to all this misfortune another is added, namely, -the excuses that deceive him. And since there is no other medicine -than excuses for the disease of jealousy, and since the jealous man -suffering from it does not wish to admit them, it follows that this -disease is without remedy, and should be placed before all others. And -thus it is my opinion that Orfenio is the most afflicted, but not the -most in love; for jealousy is not the token of much love, but of much -ill-advised curiosity. And if it is a token of love, it is like fever -in a sick man, for to have it is a sign of having life, but a life sick -and diseased; and so the jealous lover has love, but it is love sick -and ill-conditioned; and moreover to be jealous is a token of little -confidence in one's own worth. And that this is true the discreet and -firm lover teaches us, who, without reaching the darkness of jealousy, -touches on the shadows of fear, but does not enter so far into them -that they obscure the sun of his bliss; nor goes so far away from them -that they relieve him from walking in solicitude and fear; for if this -discreet fear should be wanting in the lover, I would count him proud -and over-confident. For as a common proverb of ours says: "Who loves -well, fears"; and indeed it is right that the lover should fear, lest, -as the thing he loves is extremely good, or seemed to him to be so, it -should seem the same to the eyes of anyone who beholds it; and for the -same reason love is begotten in another who is able to disturb his love -and succeeds in so doing. The good lover fears, and let him fear, the -changes of time, of the new events which might offer themselves to his -hurt, and lest the happy state he is enjoying may quickly end; and this -fear must be so secret, that it does not come to his tongue to utter -it, nor yet to his eyes to express it. And this fear produces effects -so contrary to those which jealousy produces in loving breasts, that -it fosters in them new desires to increase love more if they could, -to strive with all solicitude that the eyes of their beloved should -not see in them aught that is not worthy of praise, showing themselves -generous, courteous, gallant, pure and well-bred; and as much as it -is right that this virtuous fear should be praised, so much, and even -more, is it fitting that jealousy should be blamed.' - -The renowned Damon said this and was silent, and drew in the wake -of his own opinion the opposite ones of some who had been listening -to him, leaving all satisfied with the truth he had shown them with -such plainness. But he would not have remained without reply, had -the shepherds Orompo, Crisio, Marsilio, and Orfenio been present at -his discourse; who, wearied by the eclogue they had recited, had -gone to the house of their friend Daranio. All being thus occupied, -at the moment the various dances were about to be renewed, they saw -three comely shepherds entering on one side of the square, who were -straightway recognised by all. They were the graceful Francenio, the -frank Lauso, and the old Arsindo, who came between the two shepherds -with a lovely garland of green laurel in his hands; and crossing -through the square, they came to a stop where Thyrsis, Damon, -Elicio, and Erastro, and all the chief shepherds were, whom they -greeted with courteous words, and were received by them with no less -courtesy, especially Lauso by Damon, whose old and true friend he was. -Compliments having ceased, Arsindo, setting eyes on Damon and Thyrsis, -began to speak in this wise: - -'It is the renown of your wisdom, which extends near and far, discreet -and gallant shepherds, that brings these shepherds and myself to beg -you to consent to be judges of a graceful contest that has arisen -between these two shepherds; and it is that, the feast being over, -Francenio and Lauso, who are here, found themselves in a company of -fair shepherdesses, and in order to pass without tedium the leisure -hours of the day amongst them, they set on foot, amongst many other -games, the one which is called 'themes.' It happened then that, the -turn to propose and begin coming to one of these shepherds, fate would -have it that the shepherdess at his side and on his right hand was, -as he says, the treasurer of his soul's secrets, and the one who was, -in the opinion of all, accounted the most discreet and most in love. -Approaching then her ear, he said to her: - - "Hope doth fly and will not stay." - -The shepherdess, without being at a loss, went on, and, each one -afterwards repeating in public what he had said to the other in secret, -it was found that the shepherdess had capped the theme by saying: - - "With desire to check its flight." - -The acuteness of this reply was praised by those who were present; but -the one to extol it most was the shepherd Lauso, and it seemed no less -good to Francenio, and so each one, seeing that the theme and the reply -were verses of the same measure, offered to gloss them. After having -done so, each one claims that his gloss excels the other's, and to have -certainty in this, they wished to make me judge of it, but, as I knew -that your presence was gladdening our banks, I counselled them to come -to you, to whose consuminate learning and wisdom questions of greater -import might well be trusted. They have followed my opinion, and I have -gladly taken the trouble to make this garland that it may be given as a -prize to him whom you, shepherds, decide to have glossed the better.' - -Arsindo was silent and awaited the shepherds' reply, which was to thank -him for the good opinion he had of them and to offer themselves to -be impartial judges in that honourable contest. With this assurance -straightway Francenio once more repeated the verses and recited his -gloss, which was as follows: - - _Hope doth fly and will not stay, - With desire to check its flight._ - - _GLOSS._ - - When to save myself I think, - In the faith of love believing, - Merit fails me on the brink, - And the excesses of my grieving - Straightway from my presence shrink; - Confidence doth die away, - And life's pulse doth cease to beat, - Since misfortune seems to say, - That, when fear pursues in heat, - _Hope doth fly and will not stay_. - - Yes, it flies, and from my pain - With it takes away content, - And the keys of this my chain - For my greater punishment - In my enemy's power remain; - Far it rises to a height - Where 'twill soon be seen no more, - Far it flies, so swift and light - That it is not in my power - _With desire to check its flight_. - -Francenio having recited his gloss, Lauso began his, which was as -follows: - - In the hour I saw thee first, - As I viewed thy beauty rare, - Straightway did I fear and thirst; - Yet at last I did so fear, - That I was with fear accursed; - Feeble confidence straightway, - When I see thee, leads astray, - With it comes a coward's fear. - Lest they should remain so near, - _Hope doth fly and will not stay_. - - Though it leaves me and doth go - With so wondrous a career, - Soon a miracle will show - That the end of life is near, - But with love it is not so. - I am in a hopeless plight, - Yet that I his trophy might - Win, who loves but knows not why, - Though I could, I would not try - _With desire to check its flight_. - -As Lauso ceased reciting his gloss, Arsindo said: - -'Here you see declared, famous Damon and Thyrsis, the cause of the -contest between these shepherds; it only remains now that you should -give the garland to him whom you should decide to deserve it with -better right; for Lauso and Francenio are such friends, and your award -will be so just that, what shall be decided by you, they will count as -right.' - -'Do not think, Arsindo,' replied Thyrsis, 'that, though our intellects -were of the quality you imagine them to be, the difference, if there -be any, between these discreet glosses can or ought to be decided -with such haste. What I can say of them, and what Damon will not seek -to contradict, is that both are equally good, and that the garland -should be given to the shepherdess who was the cause of so curious and -praiseworthy a contest; and, if you are satisfied with this judgment, -reward us for it by honouring the nuptials of our friend Daranio, -gladdening them with your pleasing songs, and giving lustre to them by -your honourable presence.' - -The award of Thyrsis seemed good to all, the two shepherds approved -it and offered to do what Thyrsis bade them. But the shepherdesses -and shepherds, who knew Lauso, were astonished to see his unfettered -mind entangled in the net of love, for straightway they saw, from -the paleness of his countenance, the silence of his tongue, and the -contest he had had with Francenio, that his will was not as free as -it was wont to be, and they went wondering among themselves who the -shepherdess might be who had triumphed over his free heart. One thought -it was the discreet Belisa, another that it was the gay Leandra, and -some that it was the peerless Arminda, being moved to think this by -Lauso's usual practice to visit the huts of these shepherdesses, and -because each of them was likely by her grace, worth, and beauty, to -subdue other hearts as free as that of Lauso, and it was many days ere -they resolved this doubt, for the love-sick shepherd scarce trusted to -himself the secret of his love. This being ended, straightway all the -youth of the village renewed the dances, and the rustic instruments -made pleasing music. But seeing that the sun was already hastening his -course towards the setting, the concerted voices ceased, and all who -were there determined to escort the bridal pair to their house. And -the aged Arsindo, in order to fulfil what he had promised to Thyrsis, -in the space there was between the square and Daranio's house, to the -sound of Erastro's pipe went singing these verses: - -ARSINDO. - Now let Heaven tokens show - Of rejoicing and of mirth - On so fortunate a day, - 'Midst the joy of all below - Let all peoples on the earth - Celebrate this wedding gay. - From to-day let all their mourning - Into joyous song be turning, - And in place of grief and pain - Pleasures let the myriads gain, - From their hearts all sorrow spurning. - - Let prosperity abound - With the happy bridal-pair, - Who were for each other made, - On their elms may pears be found, - In their oak-groves cherries rare, - Sloes amid the myrtle glade, - Pearls upon the rocky steep. - May they grapes from mastic reap, - Apples from the carob-tree. - May their sheepfolds larger be, - And no wolves attack their sheep. - - May their ewes that barren were, - Fruitful prove, and may they double - By their fruitfulness their flock. - May the busy bees prepare - 'Midst the threshing floor and stubble, - Of sweet honey plenteous stock. - May they ever find their seed, - In the town and in the mead, - Plucked at fitting time and hour, - May no grub their vines devour, - And their wheat no blighting weed. - - In good time with children twain, - Perfect fruit of peace and love, - May the happy pair be blest. - And when manhood they attain, - May the one a doctor prove, - And the other a parish priest. - May they ever take the lead - In both wealth and goodly deed. - Thus they gentlemen will be, - If they give security - For no gauger full of greed. - - May they live for longer years - E'en than Sarah, hale and strong, - And the sorrowing doctor shun. - May they shed no bitter tears - For a daughter wedded wrong, - For a gambling spendthrift son. - May their death be, when the twain - Shall Methusaleh's years attain, - Free from guilty fear; the date - May the people celebrate - For ever and aye, Amen. - -With the greatest pleasure Arsindo's rude verses were listened to, -and he would have gone on further with them, had not their arrival at -Daranio's house hindered it. The latter, inviting all who came with -him, remained there, save that Galatea and Florisa, through fear lest -Teolinda should be recognised by Thyrsis and Damon, would not remain -at the wedding banquet. Elicio and Erastro would fain have accompanied -Galatea to her house, but it was not possible for her to consent to it, -and so they had to remain with their friends, and the shepherdesses, -wearied with the dances of that day, departed. And Teolinda felt more -pain than ever, seeing that at Daranio's solemn nuptials, where so -many shepherds had assisted, only her Artidoro was wanting. With this -painful thought she passed that night in company with Galatea and -Florisa, who passed it with hearts more free and more dispassionate, -until on the new day to come there happened to them what will be told -in the book which follows. - - - - - BOOK IV. - - -With great desire the fair Teolinda awaited the coming day to take -leave of Galatea and Florisa and to finish searching by all the banks -of the Tagus for her dear Artidoro, intending to end her life in sad -and bitter solitude, if she were so poor in fortune as to learn no news -of her beloved shepherd. The wished-for hour, then, having come, when -the sun was beginning to spread his rays over the earth, she arose, -and, with tears in her eyes, asked leave of the two shepherdesses -to prosecute her quest. They with many reasonings urged her to wait -some days more in their company, Galatea offering to her to send one -of her father's shepherds to search for Artidoro by all the banks -of the Tagus, and wherever it might be thought he could be found. -Teolinda thanked her for her offers, but would not do what they asked -of her, nay rather, after having shown in the best words she could -the obligation in which she lay to cherish all the days of her life -the favours she had received from them, she embraced them with tender -feeling and begged them not to detain her a single hour. Then Galatea -and Florisa, seeing how vainly they wrought in thinking to detain her, -charged her to try to inform them of any incident, good or bad, that -might befall her in that loving quest, assuring her of the pleasure -they would feel at her happiness, and of their pain at her misery. -Teolinda offered to be herself the one to bring the tidings of her -good fortune, since, if they were bad, life would not have patience to -endure them, and so it would be superfluous to learn them from her. -With this promise of Teolinda Galatea and Florisa were content, and -they determined to accompany her some distance from the place. And -so, the two only taking their crooks, and having furnished Teolinda's -wallet with some victuals for the toilsome journey, they went forth -with her from the village at a time when the sun's rays were already -beginning to strike the earth more directly and with greater force. -And having accompanied her almost half a league from the place, at the -moment they were intending to return and leave her, they saw four men -on horseback and some on foot crossing by some broken ground which lay -a little off their way. At once they recognised them to be hunters by -their attire and by the hawks and dogs they had with them, and whilst -they were looking at them with attention to see if they knew them, -they saw two shepherdesses of gallant bearing and spirit come out from -among some thick bushes which were near the broken ground; they had -their faces muffled with two white linen kerchiefs, and one of them, -raising her voice, asked the hunters to stop, which they did; and both -coming up to one of them, who from his bearing and figure seemed the -chief of all, seized the reins of his horse and stood awhile talking -with him without the three shepherdesses being able to hear a word of -what they said, because of the distance from the spot which prevented -it. They only saw that after they had talked with him a little while, -the horseman dismounted, and having, as far as could be judged, -bidden those who accompanied him to return, only a boy remaining with -his horse, he took the two shepherdesses by the hands and gradually -began to enter with them into a thick wood that was there. The three -shepherdesses, Galatea, Florisa, and Teolinda, seeing this, determined -to see, if they could, who the masked shepherdesses, and the horseman -who escorted them were. And so they agreed to go round by a part of -the wood, and see if they could place themselves in some part which -might be such as to satisfy them in what they desired. And acting -in the manner they had intended, they overtook the horseman and the -shepherdesses, and Galatea, watching through the branches what they -were doing, saw that they turned to the right and plunged into the -thickest part of the wood; and straightway they followed them in their -very footsteps until the horseman and the shepherdesses, thinking they -were well within the wood, halted in the middle of a narrow little -meadow which was surrounded by countless thickets of bramble. Galatea -and her companions came so near that without being seen or perceived, -they saw all the horseman and the shepherdesses did and said; and -when the latter had looked on all sides to see if they could be seen -by anyone, and were assured on this point, one removed her veil, and -scarcely had she done so when she was recognised by Teolinda, who, -approaching Galatea's ear, said to her in as low a voice as she could: - -'This is a very strange adventure; for, unless it be that I have lost -my understanding from the grief I suffer, without any doubt that -shepherdess who has removed her veil, is the fair Rosaura, daughter of -Roselio, lord of a village near ours, and I know not what can be the -reason that has moved her to adopt so strange a garb and to leave her -district,--things which speak so much to the detriment of her honour. -But, alas, hapless one!' added Teolinda, 'for the horseman who is with -her is Grisaldo, eldest son of rich Laurencio, who owns two villages -close to this of yours.' - -'You speak truth, Teolinda,' replied Galatea, 'for I know him; but be -silent and keep quiet, for we shall soon see the purpose of his coming -here.' - -Thereat Teolinda was still, and set herself attentively to watch what -Rosaura was doing. She, going up to the horseman, who seemed about -twenty years old, began to say to him with troubled voice and angry -countenance: - -'We are in a spot, faithless man, where I may take the wished for -vengeance for your lack of love and your neglect. But though I took it -on you in such a way that it would cost you your life, it were little -recompense for the wrong you have done me. Here am I, unrecognised so -as to recognise you, Grisaldo, who failed to recognise my love; here -is one who changed her garb to seek for you, she who never changed her -will to love you. Consider, ungrateful and loveless one, that she who -in her own house and amongst her servants scarce could move a step, now -for your sake goes from vale to vale, and from ridge to ridge, amidst -such loneliness seeking your companionship.' - -To all these words the fair Rosaura was uttering, the horseman listened -with his eyes fixed on the ground, and making lines on the earth with -the point of a hunting knife he held in his hand. But Rosaura, not -content with what she had said, pursued her discourse with words such -as these: - -'Tell me, do you know peradventure, do you know, Grisaldo, that I am -she who not long ago dried your tears, stayed your sighs, healed your -pains, and above all, she who believed your words? or perchance do -you understand that you are he who thought all the oaths that could -be imagined feeble and of no strength to assure me of the truth with -which you deceived me? Are you by chance, Grisaldo, he whose countless -tears softened the hardness of my pure heart? It is you, for indeed -I see you, and it is I, for indeed I know myself. But if you are the -Grisaldo of my belief, and I am Rosaura, as you think her to be, fulfil -to me the word you gave me, and I will give you the promise I have -never denied you. They have told me that you are marrying Leopersia, -Marcelio's daughter, so gladly that it is actually you who are wooing -her; if this news has caused me sorrow, can well be seen by what I have -done in coming to prevent its fulfilment, and if you can confirm it, I -leave the matter to your conscience. What do you reply to this, mortal -enemy of my peace? Do you admit perchance, by your silence, that which -it were right should not pass even through your thought. Now raise -your eyes and set them on those that beheld you to their hurt; lift -them and behold her whom you are deceiving, whom you are abandoning -and forgetting. You will see, if you ponder it well, that you are -deceiving her who always spoke truth to you, you are abandoning her who -has abandoned her honour and herself to follow you, you are forgetting -her who never banished you from her memory. Consider, Grisaldo, that -in birth I am your equal, that in wealth I am not your inferior, and -that I excel you in goodness of heart and in firmness of faith. Fulfil -to me, sir, the faith you gave me, if you are proud to be a gentleman, -and are not ashamed to be a Christian. Behold, if you do not respond to -what you owe me, I will pray Heaven to punish you, fire to burn you, -air to fail you, water to drown you, earth not to endure you, and my -kinsmen to avenge me! Behold, if you fail in your duty towards me, -you will have in me a perpetual disturber of your joys so long as my -life shall last, and even after I am dead, if it may be, I shall with -constant shadows affright your faithless spirit, and with frightful -visions torment your deceiving eyes! Mark that I but ask what is my -own, and that by giving it you gain what you lose by refusing it! Now -move your tongue to undeceive me for the many times you have moved it -to wound me!' - -Saying this, the fair lady was silent, and for a short while was -waiting to see what Grisaldo replied. He, raising his face, which up -till then he had kept down, crimsoned with the shame Rosaura's words -had caused in him, with calm voice replied to her in this wise: - -'If I sought to deny, oh Rosaura, that I am your debtor in more than -what you say, I would likewise deny that the sunlight is bright, and -would even say that fire is cold and air solid. So that herein I -confess what I owe you, and am obliged to pay it; but for me to confess -that I can pay you as you wish is impossible, for my father's command -has forbidden it, and your cruel disdain has rendered it impossible. -Nor do I wish to call any other witness to this truth than yourself, as -one who knows so well how many times and with what tears I begged you -to accept me as your husband, and to deign to permit me to fulfil the -word I had given you to be it. And you, for the reasons you fancied, or -because you thought it was well to respond to Artandro's vain promises, -never wished matters to come to such an issue; but rather went on from -day to day putting me off, and making trials of my firmness, though -you could make sure of it in every way by accepting me for your own. -You also know, Rosaura, the desire my father had to settle me in life, -and the haste he showed in the matter, bringing forward the rich and -honourable marriages you know of, and how I with a thousand excuses -held aloof from his importunities, always telling you of them, so that -you should no longer defer what suited you so well and what I desired; -and that after all this I told you one day that my father's wish was -for me to marry Leopersia, and you, on hearing Leopersia's name, in a -desperate rage told me to speak to you no more, and that I might marry -Leopersia with your blessing, or anyone I liked better. You know also -that I urged you many times to cease those jealous frenzies, for I was -yours and not Leopersia's, and that you would never receive my excuses, -nor yield to my prayers, but rather, persevering in your obstinacy and -hardness, and in favouring Artandro, you sent to tell me that it would -give you pleasure that I should never see you more. I did what you -bade me, and, so as to have no opportunity to transgress your bidding, -seeing also that I was fulfilling that of my father, I resolved to -marry Leopersia, or at least I shall marry her to-morrow, for so it -is agreed between her kinsmen and mine; wherefore you see, Rosaura, -how guiltless I am of the charge you lay against me, and how late you -have come to know the injustice with which you treated me. But that you -may not judge me henceforward to be as ungrateful as you have pictured -me in your fancy, see if there is anything wherein I can satisfy your -wish, for, so it be not to marry you, I will hazard, to serve you, -property, life and honour.' - -While Grisaldo was saying these words, the fair Rosaura kept her eyes -riveted on his face, shedding through them so many tears that they -showed full well the grief she felt in her soul. But, seeing that -Grisaldo was silent, heaving a deep and woful sigh, she said to him: - -'As it cannot be, oh Grisaldo, that your green years should have a long -and skilled experience of the countless accidents of love, I do not -wonder that a little disdain of mine has placed you in the freedom you -boast of; but if you knew that jealous fears are the spurs which make -love quicken his pace, you would see clearly that those I had about -Leopersia, redounded to make me love you more. But as you made such -sport of my affairs, on the slightest pretext that you could conceive, -you revealed the little love in your breast, and confirmed my true -suspicions; and in such a way that tells me you are marrying Leopersia -to-morrow. But I assure you, before you bear her to the marriage-couch, -you must bear me to the tomb, unless, indeed, you are so cruel as to -refuse to give one to the dead body of her over whose soul you were -always absolute lord. And, that you may know clearly and see that she -who lost for you her modesty, and exposed her honour to harm, will -count it little to lose her life, this sharp poniard which here I hold -will accomplish my desperate and honourable purpose, and will be a -witness of the cruelty you hold in that false breast of yours.' - -And saying this she drew from her bosom a naked dagger, and with great -haste was going to plunge it in her heart, had not Grisaldo with -greater speed seized her arm, and had not the veiled shepherdess, her -companion, hurried to close with her. Grisaldo and the shepherdess were -a long while before they took the dagger from the hands of Rosaura, who -said to Grisaldo: - -'Permit me, traitorous foe, to end at once the tragedy of my life, -without your loveless disdain making me experience death so often.' - -'You shall not taste of death on my account,' replied Grisaldo, 'since -I would rather that my father should fail in the word he has given to -Leopersia on my behalf, than that I should fail at all in what I know I -owe you. Calm your breast, Rosaura, since I assure you that this breast -of mine can desire naught save what may be to your happiness.' - -At these loving words of Grisaldo, Rosaura awakened from the death of -her sorrow to the life of her joy, and, without ceasing to weep, knelt -down before Grisaldo, begging for his hands in token of the favour he -did her. Grisaldo did the same, and threw his arms round her neck; -for a long while they remained without power to say a word one to the -other, both shedding many loving tears. The veiled shepherdess, seeing -her companion's happy fortune, wearied by the fatigue she had sustained -in helping to take the dagger from Rosaura, being unable to bear her -veil any longer, took it off, disclosing a face so like Teolinda's, -that Galatea and Florisa were amazed to see it. But Teolinda was more -so, since, without being able to conceal it, she raised her voice, -saying: - -'Oh Heavens, and what is it that I see? Is not this by chance my sister -Leonarda, the disturber of my repose? She it is without a doubt.' - -And, without further delay, she came out from where she was, and with -her Galatea and Florisa; and as the other shepherdess saw Teolinda, -straightway she recognised her, and with open arms they ran one to -the other, wondering to have found each other in such a place, and -at such a time and juncture. Then Grisaldo and Rosaura, seeing what -Leonarda was doing with Teolinda, and that they had been discovered by -the shepherdesses Galatea and Florisa, arose, with no small shame that -they had been found by them in that fashion, and, drying their tears, -with reserve and courtesy received the shepherdesses, who were at once -recognised by Grisaldo. But the discreet Galatea, in order to change -into confidence the displeasure that perchance the two loving shepherds -had felt at seeing her, said to them with that grace, with which she -said everything: - -'Be not troubled by our coming, happy Grisaldo and Rosaura, for it -will merely serve to increase your joy, since it has been shared with -one who will always have joy in serving you. Our fortune has ordained -that we should see you, and in a part where no part of your thoughts -has been concealed from us, and since Heaven has brought them to so -happy a pass, in satisfaction thereof calm your breasts and pardon our -boldness.' - -'Never has your presence, fair Galatea,' replied Grisaldo, 'failed to -give pleasure wherever it might be; and this truth being so well known, -we are rather under an obligation at sight of you, than annoyed at your -coming.' - -With these there passed some other courteous words, far different from -those that passed between Leonarda and Teolinda, who, after having -embraced once and yet again, with tender words, mingled with loving -tears, demanded the story of each other's adventures, filling all those -that were there with amazement at seeing them, for they resembled each -other so closely, that they could almost be called not alike, but one -and the same; and had it not been that Teolinda's dress was different -from Leonarda's, without a doubt Galatea and Florisa could not have -distinguished them; and then they saw with what reason Artidoro had -been deceived in thinking that Leonarda was Teolinda. But when Florisa -saw that the sun was about midway in the sky, and that it would be well -to seek some shade to protect them from its rays, or at least to return -to the village, since, as the opportunity failed them to pasture their -sheep, they ought not to be so long in the meadow, she said to Teolinda -and Leonarda: - -'There will be time, shepherdesses, when with greater ease you can -satisfy our desires, and give us a longer account of your thoughts, -and for the present let us seek where we may spend the rigour of the -noon-tide heat that threatens us, either by a fresh spring that is at -the outlet of the valley we are leaving behind, or in returning to the -village, where Leonarda will be treated with the kindness which you, -Teolinda, have experienced from Galatea and myself. And if I make this -offer only to you, shepherdesses, it is not because I forget Grisaldo -and Rosaura, but because it seems to me that I cannot offer to their -worth and deserving more than good-will.' - -'This shall not be wanting in me as long as life shall last,' replied -Grisaldo, 'the will to do, shepherdess, what may be to your service, -since the kindness you show us cannot be paid with less; but since it -appears to me that it will be well to do what you say, and because I -have learnt that you are not ignorant of what has passed between me and -Rosaura, I do not wish to waste your time or mine in referring to it, I -only ask you to be kind enough to take Rosaura in your company to your -village, whilst I prepare in mine some things which are necessary to -fulfil what our hearts desire; and in order that Rosaura may be free -from suspicion, and may never cherish suspicion of the good faith of -my intentions, with deliberate will on my part, you being witnesses -thereof, I give her my hand to be her true husband.' - -And, saying this, he stretched out his hand, and took fair Rosaura's, -and she was so beside herself to see what Grisaldo did, that she scarce -could answer him a word, only she allowed him to take her hand, and a -little while after said: - -'Love had brought me, Grisaldo, my lord, to such a pass, that, with -less than you have done for me, I would remain for ever your debtor; -but since you have wished to have regard rather for what you yourself -are, than for my deserving, I shall do what in me lies, which is to -give you my soul anew in recompense for this favour, and may Heaven -give you the reward for so welcome a kindness.' - -'No more, no more, my friends,' said Galatea at this moment, 'for where -deeds are so true, excessive compliments must find no place. What -remains is to pray Heaven to lead to a happy issue these beginnings, -and that you may enjoy your love in a long and beneficent peace. And as -for what you say, Grisaldo, that Rosaura should come to our village, -the favour you do us therein is so great, that we ourselves beg it of -you.' - -'So gladly will I go in your company,' said Rosaura, 'that I know not -how to enhance it more than by telling you that I will not much regret -Grisaldo's absence, when I am in your company.' - -'Then come,' said Florisa, 'for the village is far away, and the sun -strong, and our delay in returning there conspicuous. You, señor -Grisaldo, can go and do what you wish, for in Galatea's house you will -find Rosaura, and these, or rather this one shepherdess, for being so -much alike, they ought not to be called two.' - -'Be it as you wish,' said Grisaldo; and, he taking Rosaura by the -hand, they all went from the wood, having agreed among themselves -that Grisaldo should on the morrow send a shepherd, from the many -his father had, to tell Rosaura what she was to do, and that this -shepherd, when sent, might be able to speak to Galatea or to Florisa -without being observed, and give the instructions that suited best. -This agreement seemed good to all, and, having come out from the wood, -Grisaldo saw that his servant was waiting for him with the horse, and -embracing Rosaura anew, and taking leave of the shepherdesses, he went -away accompanied with tears and by Rosaura's eyes, which never left -him until they lost him from sight. As the shepherdesses were left -alone, straightway Teolinda went away with Leonarda, in the desire to -learn the cause of her coming. And Rosaura, too, as she went, related -to Galatea and to Florisa the occasion that had moved her to take a -shepherdess's dress, and to come to look for Grisaldo, saying: - -'It would not cause you wonder, fair shepherdesses, to see me in this -dress, if you knew how far love's mighty power extends, which makes -those who love well change not only their garb, but will and soul, in -the way that is most to its taste, and I had lost my love for ever, -had I not availed myself of the artifice of this dress. For you must -know, my friends, that, as I was in Leonarda's village, of which my -father is the lord, Grisaldo came to it with the intention of being -there some days, engaged in the pleasing pastime of the chase; and as -my father was a great friend of his father, he arranged to receive -him in the house, and to offer him all the hospitality that he could. -This he did; and Grisaldo's coming to my house resulted in driving -me from it; for indeed, though it be at the cost of my shame, I must -tell you that the sight, the converse, and the worth of Grisaldo made -such an impression on my soul, that, without knowing how, when he had -been there a few days, I came to be quite beside myself, and neither -wished nor was able to exist without making him master of my freedom. -However, it was not so heedlessly but that I was first satisfied -that Grisaldo's wish did not differ in any way from mine, as he gave -me to understand with many very true tokens. I then, being convinced -of this truth, and seeing how well it pleased me to have Grisaldo -for husband, came to acquiesce in his desires, and to put mine into -effect; and so, by the mediation of a handmaiden of mine, Grisaldo and -I saw each other many times in a secluded corridor, without our being -alone extending further than for us to see each other, and for him to -give me the word, which to-day he has given me again with more force -in your presence. My sad fortune then decreed, that at the time I was -enjoying so sweet a state, there came also to visit my father a valiant -gentleman from Aragón, who was called Artandro; he being overcome, -according to what he showed, by my beauty, if I have any, sought with -the greatest solicitude that I should marry him without my father -knowing it. Meanwhile Grisaldo had sought to carry out his purpose, and -I, showing myself somewhat harsher than was necessary, kept putting -him off with words, with the intention that my father should set about -marrying me, and that then Grisaldo should seek me for his wife; but -he did not wish to do this, since he was aware that his father's wish -was to marry him to the rich and beauteous Leopersia, for you must -know her well by the report of her riches and beauty. This came to my -knowledge, and I took the opportunity to try to make him jealous of me, -though feignedly, merely to make trial of the sincerity of his faith; -and I was so careless, or rather so simple, that thinking I gained -something thereby, I began to show some favours to Artandro. Grisaldo, -seeing this, often declared to me the pain he felt at my dealings with -Artandro, and he even informed me that if it was not my wish that he -should fulfil to me the word he had given me, he could not fail to obey -the wish of his parents. To all these words of warning and advice I -replied unadvisedly, full of pride and arrogance, confident that the -bonds which my beauty had cast over Grisaldo's soul could not be so -easily broken, or even touched, by any other beauty. But my confidence -turned out to be much mistaken, as Grisaldo soon showed me, who, -wearied of my foolish and scornful disdain, saw fit to leave me and to -obey his father's behest. But scarcely had he gone from my village and -left my presence, when I recognised the error into which I had fallen, -and with such force did Grisaldo's absence and jealousy of Leopersia -begin to torment me that his absence overwhelmed me and jealousy of -her consumed me. Considering then, that, if my remedy were deferred, -I must leave my life in the hands of grief, I resolved to risk losing -the lesser, which in my opinion was reputation, in order to gain the -greater, which is Grisaldo. And so, on the pretext I gave my father, -of going to see an aunt of mine, the mistress of another village near -ours, I left my home, accompanied by many of my father's servants, -and when I reached my aunt's house, I disclosed to her all my secret -thoughts, and asked her to be kind enough to allow me to put on this -dress and come to speak to Grisaldo, assuring her that if I did not -come myself, my affairs would have a poor issue. She consented to this -on condition that I took with me Leonarda, as one in whom she had much -confidence. I sent for her to our village and procured this garb, and, -bearing in mind some things which we two had to do, we took leave of -her eight days ago; and, though we came to Grisaldo's village six days -ago, we have never been able to find an opportunity of speaking to him -alone, as I desired, until this morning, when I knew he was going to -the chase. I awaited him in the same place where he took leave of us, -and there has passed between us what you, friends, have seen, at which -happy issue I am as happy as it is right she should be who desired it -so much. This, shepherdesses, is the story of my life, and if I have -wearied you in telling it you, throw the blame on the desire you had to -know it, and on mine which could not do less than satisfy you.' - -'Nay, rather,' replied Florisa, 'we are so grateful for the favour you -have done us, that, though we may always busy ourselves in your service -we shall not escape from the debt.' - -'I am the one who remains in debt,' answered Rosaura, 'and who will -seek to repay it as my powers may allow. But, leaving this aside, -turn your eyes, shepherdesses, and you will see those of Teolinda and -Leonarda so full of tears that they will move yours without fail to -accompany them therein.' - -Galatea and Florisa turned to look at them, and saw that what Rosaura -said was true. What caused the weeping of the two sisters was that -after Leonarda had told her sister all that Rosaura had related to -Galatea and Florisa, she said to her: - -'You must know, sister, that, as you were missing from our village, -it was thought that the shepherd Artidoro had taken you away, for -that same day he too was missing without taking leave of anyone. I -confirmed this opinion in my parents, because I told them what had -passed with Artidoro in the forest. With this evidence the suspicion -increased, and my father determined to go in search of you and of -Artidoro, and in fact would have done so had not there come to our -village two days afterwards a shepherd whom all took for Artidoro when -they saw him. When the news reached my father that your ravisher was -there, straightway he came with the constables to where the shepherd -was, and they asked him if he knew you or where he had taken you to. -The shepherd denied on oath that he had ever seen you in all his life, -or that he knew what it was they were asking him about. All that were -present wondered to see the shepherd denying that he knew you, since -he had been ten days in the village and had spoken and danced with -you many a time, and without any doubt all believed that Artidoro was -guilty of what was imputed to him. Without wishing to admit his defence -or to hear a word from him, they took him to prison, where he remained -without anyone speaking to him for some days, at the end of which, -when they came to take his confession, he swore again that he did not -know you, nor in all his life had he been more than that once in that -village, and that they should consider--and this he had said at other -times--whether the Artidoro they thought he was, was not by chance a -brother of his, who resembled him so exactly as truth would reveal -when it showed them that they had deceived themselves in taking him -for Artidoro; for he was called Galercio, son of Briseno, a native of -Grisaldo's village. And, in fact, he gave such indications and showed -such proofs that all clearly saw that he was not Artidoro, whereat they -were more amazed, saying that such a marvel as that of my likeness -to you, and Galercio's to Artidoro, had not been seen in the world. -This announcement concerning Galercio moved me to go and see him many -times where he was confined; and the sight of him was such that I was -deprived of sight, at least for the purpose of seeing things to give me -pleasure, so long as I did not see Galercio. But the worst of it is, -sister, that he went from the village without knowing that he took with -him my freedom, nor had I the opportunity of telling it him, and so I -remained with such a grief as may be imagined, until Rosaura's aunt -sent for me for a few days, all for the purpose of coming to accompany -Rosaura; whereat I felt extreme joy, for I knew that we were going to -Galercio's village, and that there I might make him acquainted with his -debt to me. But I have been so poor in fortune that we have been four -days in his village and I have never seen him, though I have asked for -him, and they tell me that he is in the country with his flock. I have -also asked for Artidoro, and they have told me that for some days he -has not appeared in the village; and, in order not to leave Rosaura, -I have not taken an opportunity of going to look for Galercio, from -whom it might be possible to learn news of Artidoro. This is what has -happened to me, besides what you have seen with Grisaldo, since you -have been missing, sister, from the village.' - -Teolinda was astonished at what her sister told her; but when she came -to know that in Artidoro's village no news was known of him, she could -not restrain her tears, though she consoled herself in part, believing -that Galercio would have news of his brother; and so she resolved to go -next day to look for Galercio wherever he might be. And having told her -sister as briefly as she could all that had happened to her since she -went in search of Artidoro, Teolinda embraced her again and returned to -where the shepherdesses were. They were walking along a little distance -from the road, in among some trees which protected them a little from -the heat of the sun. Teolinda coming up to them told them all that -her sister had said to her concerning the issue of her love, and the -likeness of Galercio and Artidoro; whereat they wondered not a little, -though Galatea said: - -'Whoever sees the strange likeness there is between you, Teolinda, and -your sister, cannot wonder though he sees others, since no likeness, as -I believe, is equal to yours.' - -'There is no doubt,' replied Leonarda, 'but that the likeness there is -between Artidoro and Galercio is so great that, if it does not surpass -ours, at least it will be in no way behind it.' - -'May Heaven please,' said Florisa, 'that as you four resemble one -another, so may you agree and be like one another in fortune, that -which fate grants to your desires being so good that all the world may -envy your joys, as it wonders at your likenesses.' - -Teolinda would have replied to these words, had not a voice they -heard issuing from among the trees prevented it; and all stopping to -listen to it, they straightway recognised that it was the voice of the -shepherd Lauso, whereat Galatea and Florisa felt great joy, for they -wished very much to know of whom Lauso was enamoured, and believed that -what the shepherd should sing would relieve them of this doubt, and for -this reason, without moving from where they were, they listened to him -in the greatest silence. The shepherd was seated at the foot of a green -willow, accompanied by his thoughts alone, and by a little rebeck, to -the sound of which he sang in this wise: - -LAUSO. - If I the good within my thought confessed, - What good I do possess would turn to ill. - The good I feel is not to be expressed. - - Even from me let my desire conceal - Itself, and herein let my tongue be dumb, - And let its trophy be that it is still. - - Let artifice stop here, nor art presume - To praise enow the pleasure and the balm - Which to a soul from Love's kind hand doth come. - - Suffice to say that I in peaceful calm - Cross o'er the sea of Love, setting my trust - In noble triumph and victorious palm. - - The cause unknown, let what the cause produced - Be known, for 'tis a good so measureless - That for the soul alone 'tis kept in trust. - - Now I new being have, now life possess, - Now I in all the earth can win a name - For lofty glory and renowned success. - - For the pure purpose and the loving flame, - Which is enclosed within my loving side, - Can unto loftiest Heaven exalt my fame. - - In thee I hope, Silena, and confide - In thee, Silena, glory of my thought, - Pole-star that doth my roving fancy guide. - - I hope that, by thy peerless judgment taught, - Thou wilt adjudge that I in truth do merit - By faith what in deserving lieth not. - - And, shepherdess, I trust that soon thy spirit - Will show, when thy experience makes thee sure, - The liberty that noble breasts inherit. - - What wealth of bliss thy presence doth assure! - What evils doth it banish! When 'tis gone, - Who for a moment absence will endure? - - Oh thou that art more beauteous on thy throne - Than beauty's self, and more than wisdom wise, - Star to my sea, unto my eyes a sun! - - She who in famous Crete became the prize - Of the false lovely bull, and bowed to Love, - Did not unto thy perfect beauty rise; - - Nor she who felt descending from above - The golden rain, that turned her heart aside - (To guard her maidenhood no more she strove); - - Nor she whose angry ruthless hand, in pride - Of purity, did her chaste bosom smite, - And in her blood the piercing dagger dyed; - - Nor she who roused to madness and despite - 'Gainst Troy the hearts of the Achaean host, - Who gave unto destruction Ilion's height; - - Nor she the squadrons of the Latin coast - Who launched irate against the Teucrian race, - Whose bitter pangs were ever Juno's boast; - - And no less she who hath a different praise - And trophy for the steadfast purity - Wherewith she kept her honour from disgrace; - - Nor she who mourned her dead Sychaeus, she - On whom Mantuan Tityrus did cast - Reproach for fond desire and vanity; - - Neither 'mongst all the fair ones that the past - Ages produced, nor at this present hour - Nor in the days to come find we at last; - - One who in wisdom, worth, or beauty's dower, - Was or is equal to my shepherdess, - Or claimeth o'er the world a sovereign's power. - - Ah happy he, if but the bitterness - Of jealousy he knew not, who by thee, - Silena, should be loved with faithfulness! - - Thou who hast to this height exalted me, - Oh Love, with heavy hand hurl me not down - Unto oblivion's deep obscurity. - Seek thou a prince's, not a tyrant's crown. - -The enamoured shepherd sang no more, nor from what he had sung could -the shepherdesses come to the knowledge of what they desired, for, -though Lauso named Silena in his song, the shepherdess was not known -by this name; and so they imagined that, as Lauso had gone through -many parts of Spain, and even of all Asia and Europe, it would be -some foreign shepherdess who had subdued his free will; but when they -considered again that they had seen him a few days before triumphing -in his freedom and making mock of lovers, they believed beyond a -doubt, that under a feigned name he was celebrating some well-known -shepherdess whom he had made mistress of his thoughts; and so, without -being satisfied in their suspicion, they went towards the village, -leaving the shepherd in the same place where he was. But they had -not gone far when they saw coming from a distance some shepherds who -were straightway recognised, for they were Thyrsis, Damon, Elicio, -Erastro, Arsindo, Francenio, Crisio, Orompo, Daranio, Orfenio, and -Marsilio, with all the chief shepherds of the village, and among -them, the loveless Lenio with the hapless Silerio, who came to pass -the noon-tide heat at the spring of slates, in the shade made in that -place by the interwoven branches of the dense green trees. Before the -shepherds approached, Teolinda, Leonarda and Rosaura took care each -to veil herself with a white cloth that they might not be recognised -by Thyrsis and Damon. The shepherds approached, offering courteous -greetings to the shepherdesses, inviting them to consent to spend -the noon-tide heat in their company; but Galatea excused herself by -saying that the strange shepherdesses who came with her, must needs -go to the village; therewith she took leave of them, drawing after -her the souls of Elicio and Erastro, and the veiled shepherdesses -likewise the desires of all who were there to know them. They betook -themselves to the village, and the shepherds to the cool spring, but -before they reached there, Silerio took leave of all, asking permission -to return to his hermitage; and though Thyrsis, Damon, Elicio, and -Erastro begged him to remain with them for that day, they could not -prevail with him; nay rather he embraced them all and took his leave, -charging and begging Erastro not to fail to visit him every time he -passed by his hermitage. Erastro promised it him, and therewith, he -turned aside, and accompanied by his constant sorrow, returned to the -solitude of his hermitage, leaving the shepherds not without grief to -see the straitness of life he had chosen when his years were yet green; -but it was felt most among those who knew him and were acquainted -with the quality and worth of his person. When the shepherds came to -the spring, they found there three gentlemen and two fair ladies who -were journeying, and being wearied with fatigue and invited by the -pleasing and cool spot, it seemed good to them to leave the road they -were following, and spend there the sultry hours of the noon-tide -heat. There came with them some servants, so that they showed by their -appearance that they were persons of quality. The shepherds, when -they saw them, would have left the spot free to them; but one of the -gentlemen, who seemed the chief, seeing that the shepherds in their -courtesy wished to go to another place, said to them: - -'If it was by chance your pleasure, gallant shepherds, to spend the -noon-tide heat in this delightful spot, let not our company hinder -you from it, but rather do us the favour of increasing our pleasure -with your company, since your noble disposition and manner promise no -less: and, the place being, as it is, so adapted for a greater number -of people, you will grieve me and these ladies, if you do not agree to -what I ask you in their name and mine.' - -'By doing, sir, what you bid us,' replied Elicio, 'we shall fulfil our -desire, which did not for the moment extend beyond coming to this place -to spend here in pleasant converse the tedious hours of the noon-tide -heat; and, though our purpose were different, we would change it merely -to do what you ask.' - -'I am grateful,' replied the gentleman, 'for tokens of such good-will, -and in order that I may be the more assured of it and gratified -thereby, be seated, shepherds, around this cool spring, where with some -things which these ladies have with them for refreshment by the way, -you may awake your thirst and quench it in the cool waters this clear -spring offers us.' - -All did so, constrained by his fair courtesy. Up to this point the -ladies had kept their faces covered with two rich veils; but, seeing -that the shepherds were remaining, they revealed themselves, revealing -a beauty so strange that it caused great astonishment in all who saw -it, for it seemed to them that after Galatea's there could be on earth -no other beauty to match it. The two ladies were equally beautiful, -though one of them, who seemed the older, excelled the smaller one in a -certain grace and spirit. All being seated then, and at their ease, the -second gentleman, who up till then had spoken nothing, said: - -'When I stop to consider, amiable shepherds, the advantage your humble -shepherds' ways have over the proud ways of the courtier, I cannot fail -to have pity for myself and honourable envy of you.' - -'Why do you say that, friend Darinto?' said the other gentleman. - -'I say it, sir,' replied the former, 'because I see with what care you -and I, and those who follow our ways, seek to adorn our persons, to -nourish our bodies, and to increase our property, and how little it -comes to profit us, since the purple, the gold, the brocade, and our -faces are faded from badly digested victuals, eaten at odd hours, and -as costly as they are wasteful, and since they adorn us in no way, nor -beautify us, nor suffice to make us look better in the eyes of those -who behold us. And all this you can see is different in those who -follow the rustic pursuits of the field, proving it by those you have -before you, who, it might be and even is the case, have been nourished -and are nourished on simple victuals, in every way different from -the wasteful composition of ours. And, besides, see the tan of their -faces, which promises a state of health more perfect than the sickly -pallor of ours, and how well a jerkin of white wool, a grey bonnet -and some gaiters of whatsoever colour suit their robust and supple -limbs; whereby they must appear more handsome in the eyes of their -shepherdesses, than gay courtiers in those of modest ladies. What could -I say to you, then, if I were minded, of the simplicity of their life, -the sincerity of their character, and the purity of their love? I say -no more to you, save that what I know of the shepherd's life has such -power with me, that gladly would I exchange mine for it.' - -'We shepherds are all indebted to you,' said Elicio, 'for the good -opinion you have of us, but nevertheless I can tell you that in our -country life there are as many slippery places and toils as are -contained in your courtier's life.' - -'I cannot but agree with what you say,' replied Darinto, 'for indeed -it is well known that our life on earth is a war; but after all in the -shepherd's life there is less of it than in that of the town, for it is -more free from causes that may move and disquiet the spirit.' - -'How well agrees with your opinion, Darinto,' said Damon, 'that of -a shepherd friend of mine, called Lauso, who, after having spent -some years in a courtier's pursuits, and some others in the toilsome -pursuits of cruel Mars, has at last been brought to the poverty of our -country life, and before he came to it, he showed that he much desired -it, as appears by a song he composed and sent to the famous Larsileo, -who has a long and practised experience in affairs of the court; and, -because I saw fit to do so, I committed it all to memory, and would -even repeat it to you, if I thought that time would permit it, and that -it would not weary you to listen to it.' - -'Nothing will give us greater pleasure than to listen to you, discreet -Damon,' replied Darinto, calling Damon by his name, for he already knew -it from having heard the other shepherds, his friends, name him; 'and -so I for my part beg you to repeat to us Lauso's song, for since it is -composed, as you say, to suit my case, and you have committed it to -memory, it will be impossible for it not to be good.' - -Damon began to repent of what he had said, and sought to escape from -his promise; but the gentlemen and ladies and all the shepherds begged -it of him so much, that he could not escape repeating it. And so, -having composed himself a little, with admirable grace and charm he -spoke in this wise: - -DAMON. - The idle fancies that our minds do weave, - Which hither and thither are buffeted - In rapid flight by every wind that blows; - Man's feeble heart, ever inclined to grieve, - Set upon pleasures that are doomed to fade, - Wherein it seeks, but findeth not, repose; - The world that never knows - The truth, the promiser of joyous pleasures; - Its siren voice, whose word - Is scarcely overheard, - When it transforms its pleasures to displeasures; - Babylon, chaos, seen and read by me - In everything I see; - The mood the careful courtier doth command-- - Have set, in unity - With my desire, the pen within my hand. - - I would my rude ill-shapen quill might rise, - My lord, though brief and feeble be its flight, - Unto the realms that my desire doth gain, - So that the task of raising to the skies - Thy goodness rare and virtue ever bright - It might essay, and thus its wish attain. - But who is there that fain - Would on his shoulders cast so great a burden, - Unless he is a new - Atlas, in strength so true, - That Heaven doth little weary him or burden? - And even he the load will be compelled - To shift, that he has held, - On to the arms of a new Hercules, - And yet such toil beheld, - Although he bow and sweat, I count but ease. - - But since 'tis to my strength impossible, - And but an empty wish I give to prove - All that my loyal fancy doth conceal, - Let us consider if 'tis possible - My feeble ill-contented hand to move, - And some vague sign of joy thereby reveal; - Herein my power I feel - So powerless, that thou thine ears must lend, - And to the bitter groans - And agonising moans - That issue from a breast despised, attend; - Upon that breast fire, air, and earth, and sea - Make war unceasingly, - Conspiring all together for its pain, - Which its sad destiny - Doth bound, and its small fortune doth contain. - - Were this not so in truth, an easy thing - It were through pleasure's realm one's steps to bend, - And countless pleasures to the mind restore, - The mountain, strand, or river picturing. - Not Love, but fortune, fate and chance did lend - Their wealth of glory to a shepherd poor: - But Time a triumph o'er - This sweet tale claims, and of it doth remain - Alone a feeble shadow, - Which doth the thought o'ershadow - That thinks on it the more, and fills with pain. - Such is the fitting plight of all mankind! - The pleasure we designed - In a few hours is changed to sore displeasure, - And no one will e'er shall find - In many years a firm and lasting pleasure. - - Now let the idle thought revolve on high, - Let it ascend or descend to the abyss, - And in a moment run from east to west, - 'Twill say, however much it sweat and ply - Its strength, escaping from its miseries, - Set in dread hell, or Heaven loftiest: - "Oh thrice and four times blest - And blest and blest again with happiness, - The simple herdsman who, - With his poor sheep and few, - Liveth with more content and peacefulness - Than Crassus rich or Midas in his greed, - Since the life he doth lead, - A shepherd's life, of healthy simple powers, - Doth make him take no heed - Of this false, wretched, courtly life of ours." - - Beside the trunk that Vulcan's flame dissolves, - Of sturdy oak, he seeks himself to warm, - Amidst the might of winter's bristling cold, - And there in peace a clear account resolves - To give of life to Heaven, and how from harm - To keep his flock, he doth discussion hold. - And when away hath rolled - The hard and barren frost, when it doth shrink, - When he who had his birth - In Delos, doth the earth - And air inflame, then, on some river's brink, - Of willows green and elms its canopy, - In rustic harmony - He sounds the shrilly fife, or lifts his voice: - Then truly one doth see - The waters stop to listen and rejoice, - - He is not wearied by the solemn face - Of one in favour, who doth bear the port - Of governor, where he is not obeyed, - Nor by the sweetly uttered lofty praise - Of the false flatterer, who in absence short, - Views, leaders, parties, changeth undismayed. - Of the disdain displayed - By the wise secretary, of his pride - Who bears the golden key, - But little recketh he, - Nor of the league of divers chiefs allied. - Not for a moment from his flock he goes, - Because the angry blows - Of frenzied Mars on either side may sound, - Who doth such skill disclose - That e'en his followers scarce have profit found. - - Within a circle small his footsteps wend - From the high mountain to the peaceful plain, - To the clear river from the fountain cold. - Nor doth he plough, in madness without end, - The heaving meadows of the ocean main, - Desiring distant countries to behold. - It doth not make him bold - To learn that close beside his village lives - The great unconquered king, - Whose weal is everything, - Yet not to see him small displeasure gives. - No ambitious busy-body he, beside - Himself, who without pride - Runs after favour, and a favourite's power, - Though never hath he dyed - His sword or lance in blood of Turk or Moor. - - 'Tis not for him to change or face or hue - Because the lord he serveth changeth face - Or hue, since he no lord hath to constrain - Him with mute tongue to follow and pursue-- - As Clytie did her golden lover chase-- - The sweet or bitter pleasure he may gain. - Nor doth he share the pain - Of fearing that an idle, careless thought - Within the thankless breast - Of his lord may at last - The memory of his loyal service blot, - And thus be his the doom of banishment; - His mien doth not present - Other than what his healthy breast doth hold; - Our ways, with falsehood blent, - Do not compete with rustic knowledge old. - - Who such a life as this will hold in scorn? - Who will not say that this is life alone, - Which hath the comfort of the soul pursued? - A courtier may in loathing from it turn. - This makes its goodness unto him be known - Who hath the good desired, the ill eschewed: - Oh life of solitude, - Wherein one doth his crowded joys refine! - Oh pastoral lowliness, - Higher than loftiness - Of the most lofty and exalted line! - Oh shady woodland, flowers whose fragrance fills - The air, pellucid rills! - I for a moment brief could taste your bliss, - But that my constant ills - Soon would disturb so fair a life as this! - - Song, thou dost go to where thy poverty, - To where thy wealth will all too soon be seen, - Say thou with prayerful mien - And humble, if but breath be given thee; - "Lord, pardon! he who sends me to thy side, - In thee and in his wishes doth confide." - -'This, gentlemen, is Lauso's song,' said Damon on finishing it; 'which -was as much extolled by Larsileo as it was well received by those who -saw it at the time.' - -'With reason you can say so,' replied Darinto, 'since its truth and -workmanship are worthy of just praises.' - -'These are the songs to my taste,' said the loveless Lenio at this -moment, 'and not those which every instant come to my ears, full of a -thousand simple amorous conceits, so badly arranged and involved, that -I will venture to swear that there are some, which neither the hearer, -however discreet he be, can comprehend, nor the composer understand. -But no less wearisome are others, which entangle themselves in giving -praises to Cupid, and in exaggerating his powers, his worth, his -wonders and miracles, making him lord of Heaven and earth, giving him -a thousand other attributes of might, dominion and lordship; and what -wearies me more than those who make them, is that, when they speak of -love, they mean a someone undefined, whom they call Cupid, the very -meaning of whose name declares to us what he is, namely a vain and -sensual appetite, worthy of all reproof.' - -The loveless Lenio spoke, and indeed he was certain to end in, speaking -ill of love; but as nearly all who were there knew his disposition, -they did not give much heed to his reasonings, except Erastro, who said -to him: - -'Do you think, Lenio, by chance, that you are always speaking to -a simple Erastro, who cannot contradict your opinions, or reply to -your arguments? Then I wish to warn you that it will be wise for you -to be silent for the present, or at least to discuss other matters -than speaking ill of love, unless indeed you would have Thyrsis's -and Damon's discretion and learning restoring your sight, from -the blindness in which you are, and showing you clearly what they -understand, and what you should understand, of love and of its affairs.' - -'What will they be able to tell me that I do not know?' said Lenio, 'or -what shall I be able to reply to them but what they are ignorant of?' - -'This is pride, Lenio,' replied Elicio, 'and therein you show how far -you go from the path of love's truth, and that you guide yourself more -by the pole-star of your opinion and fancy, than by that whereby you -should be guided, namely that of truth and experience.' - -'Nay rather by reason of the great experience I have of its works,' -replied Lenio, 'am I as opposed to it as I show, and shall show so long -as my life shall last.' - -'On what do you base your reasoning?' said Thyrsis. - -'On what, shepherd?' answered Lenio; 'on this, that by the effects they -have I know how evil is the cause that produces them.' - -'What are the effects of love that you count so evil?' replied Thyrsis. - -'I will tell you them, if you listen to me with attention,' said -Lenio; 'but I would not have my discourse weary the ears of those -who are present, since they can spend the time in different and more -pleasurable converse.' - -'There will be nothing that could be more so to us,' said Darinto, -'than to hear a discussion of this topic, especially between persons -who will know so well how to defend their opinion: and so for my part, -if these shepherds on theirs do not hinder it, I beg you, Lenio, to -continue the discourse you have begun.' - -'That will I do readily,' answered Lenio, 'for I think I shall show -clearly therein what a strong reason compels me to follow the opinion I -do follow, and to blame any other that may be opposed to mine.' - -'Begin then, oh Lenio,' said Damon, 'for you will not hold it longer -than my companion Thyrsis will take to explain his.' - -At this moment, whilst Lenio was preparing to utter his reproofs -against love, there came to the spring the venerable Aurelio, Galatea's -father, with some shepherds, and with him came also Galatea and -Florisa, with the three veiled shepherdesses, Rosaura, Teolinda, and -Leonarda, whom he had met at the entrance of the village, and, learning -from them of the gathering of shepherds there was at the spring of -slates, caused to turn back at his request, the strange shepherdesses -trusting that by reason of their veils they would not be recognised by -anyone. All rose to receive Aurelio and the shepherdesses, these latter -seating themselves by the ladies, Aurelio and the shepherds by the -other shepherds. But when the ladies saw Galatea's remarkable beauty, -they were so astonished that they could not keep their eyes from -looking at her. Nor was Galatea less so at their beauty, especially -at that of her who seemed the older. There passed between them some -words of courtesy, but everything ceased when they learnt what was -agreed between the discreet Thyrsis and the loveless Lenio; whereat -the venerable Aurelio was infinitely rejoiced, for he desired very -much to see that assembly, and to hear that discussion, and all the -more when Lenio would have someone who could answer him so well; and -so, without waiting further, Lenio, seating himself on the trunk of a -felled elm-tree, in a voice at first low, and then full-sounding, began -to speak in this wise: - -LENIO. 'Already I almost guess, worthy and discreet company, how -even now in your understanding you are judging me as bold and rash, -since with the little intellect and less experience which the rustic -life, in which I have been nurtured for some time, can promise, I am -willing to hold a contest in a matter so difficult as this with the -famous Thyrsis, whose nurture in famous academies, and whose profound -studies, can assure naught to my pretensions save certain failure. -But confident that at times the force of natural genius, adorned with -some little experience, is wont to discover new paths with which one -makes easy sciences acquired during long years, I wish to make bold -to-day to show in public the reasons which have moved me to be such -an enemy to love, that I had deserved thereby to gain the appellation -of loveless; and though nothing else would have moved me to do this, -save your behest, I would not excuse myself from doing it; all the more -that the glory will not be slight which I have to gain hereby, though -I should lose in the enterprise, since after all fame will say that I -had the spirit to compete with the renowned Thyrsis. And so on this -understanding, without wishing to be favoured except by the reason -that I have on my side, it alone do I invoke and pray to give such -strength to my words and arguments that there may appear in both of -them the reason I have for being such an enemy to love as I proclaim. -Love, then, as I have heard my elders say, is a desire for beauty; and -this definition, amongst many others, those give it that have advanced -farthest in this question. Then, if it be granted me, that love is -desire for beauty, it must necessarily be granted me that such as is -the beauty which is loved, will be the love with which it is loved. -And because beauty is of two kinds, corporeal and incorporeal, the -love which loves corporeal beauty for its ultimate goal, such a love -as this cannot be good, and this is the love whose enemy I am; but as -corporeal beauty is divided likewise into two parts, namely into living -bodies and dead bodies, there can also be a love of corporeal beauty -which may be good. The one part of corporeal beauty is shown in living -bodies of men and women, and this consists in all the parts of the body -being good in themselves, and all together making one perfect whole, -and forming a body proportioned in limbs and in pleasantness of hue. -The other beauty of the corporeal part which is not alive, consists in -pictures, statues and buildings; which beauty can be loved without the -love with which it is loved being blameworthy. Incorporeal beauty is -divided also into two parts, the virtues and the sciences of the soul; -and the love which cleaves to virtue must necessarily be good, and -likewise that which cleaves to virtuous sciences and agreeable studies. -Then, as these two kinds of beauty are the cause which begets love in -our breasts, it follows that whether love be good or bad, depends upon -loving the one or the other: but, as incorporeal beauty is viewed with -the pure and clear eyes of the understanding, and corporeal beauty is -regarded with the corporeal eyes, clouded and blind, in comparison with -the incorporeal, and as the eyes of the body are quicker to regard the -present corporeal beauty which pleases, than those of the understanding -to view the absent incorporeal beauty which glorifies, it follows that -mortals more usually love the fading and mortal beauty which destroys -them than the rare and divine beauty which makes them better. Then -from this love, or from desiring corporeal beauty, have arisen, arise, -and will arise in the world desolation of cities, ruin of states, -destruction of empires, and deaths of friends; and when this, as is -generally the case, does not happen, what greater woes, what more -grievous torments, what fire, what jealousy, what pains, what deaths, -can the human understanding imagine which can be compared to those the -wretched lover suffers? And the cause of this is that, as the lover's -whole happiness depends upon enjoying the beauty he desires, and this -beauty cannot be possessed and enjoyed fully, that inability to reach -the goal which is desired, begets in him sighs, tears, complaints, -and dejection. It is manifest and clear then that it is true that -the beauty of which I speak, cannot be enjoyed perfectly and fully, -because it is not in the power of man to enjoy completely a thing which -is outside of him and not wholly his; because external things, it is -well known, are always under the control of that which we call fortune -or chance, and not in the power of our free-will, and so it results -that where there is love there is sorrow; and he who would deny this, -would likewise deny that the sun is bright and that fire burns. But -that we may come the more easily to the knowledge of the bitterness -that love contains, the truth I follow will be clearly seen by running -over the passions of the mind. The passions of the mind, as you know -best, discreet gentlemen and shepherds, are four universal ones, and -no more. Immoderate desire, much joy, great fear for future miseries, -great sorrow for present calamities; these passions, being, as it were, -contrary winds which disturb the tranquillity of the soul, are called -by a more appropriate term disturbances; and of these disturbances -the first is proper to love, since love is nothing else save desire; -and so desire is the beginning and origin of all our passions, from -which they issue as every stream from its source. Hence it comes that -every time desire for something is kindled in our hearts, straightway -it moves us to follow it and seek it, and in seeking it and following -it, it leads us to a thousand disordered ends. This desire it is which -incites the brother to seek his beloved sister's abominable embraces, -the stepmother her step-son's, and what is worst, the very father his -own daughter's; this desire it is that bears our thoughts to grievous -perils. Nor does it avail that we oppose it with the reason, for, -though we clearly recognise our hurt, we cannot, on that account, -withdraw from it; and love does not content itself with keeping us -intent on one wish, but rather, as from the desire of things all the -passions arise, as has already been said, so from the first desire that -arises in us, a thousand others are derived; and these are in lovers -no less various than infinite, and though they well-nigh always look -to one goal only, yet, as the objects are various, and various the -fortune of those in love with each, without any doubt desire takes -various forms. There are some who, to reach the attainment of what they -desire, put all their strength on one course, in which, alas, what -great hardships are encountered, how often they fall, what sharp thorns -torture their feet, and how often strength and breath are lost before -they attain what they seek! There are some others who are possessors -of the thing beloved, and neither desire nor think of aught else save -to remain in that state, and, having their thoughts busied about this -alone, and on this alone spending all their toil and time, are wretched -amidst happiness, poor amidst wealth, and unfortunate amidst good -fortune. Others who are no longer in possession of their treasure, -seek to return to it, employing for the purpose a thousand prayers, a -thousand promises, a thousand conditions, countless tears, and at last, -busying themselves with these woes, they bring themselves to the pass -of losing their life. But these torments are not seen at the entry of -the first desires, for then deceitful love shows us a path whereby we -may enter, in appearance broad and spacious, which afterwards gradually -closes in in such a manner that no way offers itself to return or go -forward; and so the wretched lovers, deceived and betrayed by a sweet -and false smile, by a mere turn of the eye, by two stammered words -which beget in their breasts a false and feeble hope, dash straightway -to go after it, goaded by desire, and afterwards, in a short space and -in a few days, finding the path of their cure closed, and the way of -their pleasure obstructed, turn to bedew their faces with tears, to -disturb the air with sighs, to weary the ears with woeful complaints; -and the worst is, that if perchance with their tears, their sighs, -and their complaints they cannot come to the goal of their desire, -straightway they change their manner and seek to attain by bad means -what they cannot by good. Hence arise hatreds, angers, deaths as well -of friends as of enemies. For this cause it has been seen and is seen -at every moment that tender and delicate women set themselves to do -things so strange and rash that even to imagine them inspires terror. -Therefore the holy marriage-bed is seen bathed in crimson blood, now of -the sad unheeding wife, now of the incautious and careless husband. To -come to the goal of this desire brother is traitor to brother, father -to son, and friend to friend. It originates feuds, tramples on respect, -transgresses laws, forgets duties, and seduces kinswomen. But in order -that it may be clearly seen how great the misery of lovers is, it is -already known that no appetite has such strength in us, nor carries us -with such force to the object in view as that which is urged on by the -spurs of love. Hence it comes that no happiness or contentment passes -so much beyond the due bounds as that of the lover when he comes to -attain any one of the things he desires; and this is evident, for what -person of judgment will there be, save the lover, who will reckon his -highest joy a touch of his mistress's hand, a little ring of hers, a -short loving glance, and other similar things of as small account as -a dispassionate understanding holds them? And not by reason of these -abundant pleasures which lovers in their judgment gain, must it be -said that they are happy and fortunate; for there is no contentment -of theirs that does not come accompanied by innumerable displeasures -and disgusts, wherewith love dilutes them and disturbs them, and never -did amorous glory reach the pitch reached and attained by pain. So -evil is the happiness of lovers that it draws them out of themselves, -making them careless and foolish; for, as they set their whole intent -and strength to maintain themselves in that pleasant state they fancy -themselves to be in, they neglect everything else, whereby no small -harm overtakes them, as well of property, as of honour and life. Then, -in exchange for what I have said, they even make themselves slaves of a -thousand pangs, and enemies of themselves. What then, when it happens -that, in the midst of the course of their pleasures, the cold steel -of the heavy lance of jealousy touches them? Then the sky is darkened -for them, the air is disturbed, and all the elements turn against -them. Then they have nothing from which to hope for contentment, -since the attainment of the end they desire cannot give it them. Then -appear ceaseless dread, unfailing despair, sharp suspicions, varying -thoughts, care without gain, false laughter and true sorrow, with a -thousand other strange and terrible sensations which consume them and -affright them. All the actions of the beloved object distress them, -if she looks, if she laughs, if she turns away or comes back, if she -is silent, if she speaks; and in a word all the graces that moved him -to love well, are the very ones which torture the jealous lover. And -who does not know that if fortune does not favour with full hands the -beginnings of love and with speedy diligence lead them to a sweet end, -how costly to the lover are any other means the luckless one employs to -attain his purpose? What tears he sheds, what sighs he scatters, how -many letters he writes, how many nights he does not sleep, how many and -what contrary thoughts assail him, how many suspicions distress him -and fears surprise him? Is there by chance a Tantalus who feels more -distress, set between the waters and the apple-tree, than that which -the wretched lover feels placed between fear and hope? The services -of the lover out of favour are the pitchers of Danaus's daughters, -drained so fruitlessly that they never come to attain the least part of -their purpose. Is there eagle that so destroys the bowels of Tityus as -jealousy destroys and gnaws those of the jealous lover? Is there rock -that weighs down so much the shoulders of Sisyphus as love unceasingly -weighs down the thoughts of those in love? Is there wheel of Ixion -that more quickly turns and torments than the quick varying fancies of -irresolute lovers? Is there a Minos or Rhadamanthus who so punishes and -oppresses the luckless condemned souls as love punishes and oppresses -the loving breast which is subject to his unendurable power? There is -not a cruel Megæra, nor raging Tisiphone, nor avenging Alecto, who so -illtreat the soul in which they enclose themselves, as this fury, this -desire, illtreats those hapless ones who recognise it as lord, and bow -before it as vassals, who, to give some excuse for the follies they -commit, say--or at least the ancient heathens said--that that instinct -which incites and moves the lover to love another's life more than his -own, was a god, to whom they gave the name of Cupid, and so, being -constrained by his godhead, they could not fail to follow and go after -what he willed. They were moved to say this, and to give the name of -god to this desire by seeing the supernatural effects it produces in -lovers. Without doubt it seems a supernatural thing for a lover at -the same moment to be timorous and confident, to burn away from his -beloved and grow cold when nearer her, to be dumb when speaking much, -and speaking much when dumb. It is likewise a strange thing to follow -one who shuns me, to praise one who reproaches me, to utter words to -one who does not listen to me, to serve an ungrateful one, and to hope -in one who never promises nor can give aught that is good. Oh bitter -sweetness, oh poisonous medicine of sick lovers, oh sad joy, oh flower -of love, that dost indicate no fruit, save that of tardy repentance! -These are the effects of this fancied god, these are his deeds and -wondrous works; and indeed it can also be seen in the picture by which -they represented this vain god of theirs, how vainly they acted; they -painted him as a boy, naked, winged, his eyes bandaged, with bow and -arrows in his hands, to give us to understand, amongst other things, -that, when a man is in love, he assumes again the character of a simple -and capricious boy, who is blind in his aims, light in his thoughts, -cruel in his deeds, naked and poor in the riches of the understanding. -They said likewise that amongst his arrows he had two, the one of lead -and the other of gold, with which he produced different effects; for -the leaden one begot hatred in the breasts it touched, and the golden -one increase of love in those it wounded, merely to tell us that it -is rich gold that causes love, and poor lead abhorrence. And for this -reason poets do not sing in vain of Atalanta vanquished by three lovely -golden apples; and of fair Danae, made pregnant by the golden rain; -and of pious Æneas descending to hell with the golden branch in his -hand; in a word, gold and gifts are one of the strongest arrows which -love has; and the one with which he subdues most hearts; quite the -contrary to the one of lead, a metal low and despised, as poverty is, -which rather begets hatred and abhorrence where it comes, than any kind -of benevolence. But if the reasons spoken by me so far do not suffice -to persuade you of the reason I have for being on bad terms with this -treacherous love, which I am discussing to-day, observe its effects in -some true examples from the past, and you will see, as I see, that he -who does not attain to the truth I follow does not see nor has he eyes -of understanding. Let us see then--what but this love is it which made -righteous Lot break his chaste purpose and violate his own daughters? -This it is without doubt that made the chosen David be an adulterer and -a murderer; that forced the lustful Ammon to seek the infamous embraces -of Tamar, his beloved sister; that placed the head of mighty Samson in -the traitorous lap of Delilah, whereby he lost his strength, his people -lost their protection, and at last he and many others their lives. This -it was that moved Herod's tongue to promise to the dancing girl the -head of the Fore-runner of Life; this makes one doubt of the salvation -of the wisest and richest king of kings, and even of all mankind. This -brought down the strong arms of famous Hercules, accustomed to wield -the weighty club, to turn a tiny spindle and to busy themselves in -feminine tasks. This made the raging and loving Medea scatter through -the air the tender limbs of her little brother; this cut out the -tongue of Procne, Arachne and Hippolytus, made Pasiphae infamous, -destroyed Troy, and slew Ægisthus. This caused the works of new -Carthage once begun to be stayed, and her first queen to pierce her -chaste breast with a sharp sword. This placed in the hands of the fair -and famous Sophonisba, the vial of deadly poison which ended her life. -This robbed valiant Turnus of life, Tarquin of kingdom, Mark Antony of -power, and his mistress of life and honour. This finally handed our -Spain over to the barbarous fury of the children of Hagar, called to -avenge the disordered love of the wretched Roderick. But, because I -think that night will cover us with its shade before I finish bringing -to your memory the examples that offer themselves to mine, of the -exploits that love has performed, and is performing every day in the -world, I do not wish to go on with them, nor yet with the discourse I -have begun, in order to give an opportunity for the famous Thyrsis to -reply to me, begging you first, gentlemen, not to be wearied by hearing -a song which I composed some days ago in reproach of this my foe. If I -remember rightly, it runs in this way: - - No fear have I before the frost and fire, - The bow and arrows of the tyrant Love, - And so I needs must sing in his dispraise; - For who shall fear a blind boy whose desire - Varies, whose judgment doth inconstant rove, - Although he threaten wounds and sad decays? - My pleasure doth increase, his worth decays, - When I employ my tongue - To utter the true song - Which in reproach of Love himself I form, - So rich in truth, in manner, and in form, - That unto all Love's malice it reveals, - And clearly doth inform - The world of the sure hurt that Love conceals. - - Love is a fire that burns the soul within, - A frost that freezes; dart that opes the breast, - Which heedeth not its cunning manifold; - A troubled sea where calm hath ne'er been seen; - Wrath's minister; enemy manifest, - In guise of friend; father of dismay cold; - Giver of scanty good and ill untold; - Caressing; full of lies; - Fierce in his tyrannies; - A traitorous Circe that transforms us all - To divers monstrous shapes fantastical - Wherefrom no power of man can us restore, - Though quickly at our call - Comes reason's light, to what we were before, - - A yoke that doth the proudest neck abase; - A mark to which desires of slothful ease, - Born without reason, go as to their goal; - A treacherous net, which men of highest place - Amidst their foul and unclean sins doth seize - And doth within its subtle mesh enthrall; - A pleasing ill that tempts the senses all; - Poison in guise of pill, - Gilded, but poison still; - A bolt that burns and cleaves where it descendeth; - An angry arm that traitorously offendeth; - Headsman that dooms the thought which captive lies, - Or which itself defendeth - From the sweet charm of his false fantasies; - - A hurt that doth in the beginning please, - When on an object which doth seem as fair - As the fair heavens above, the sight doth feast-- - And yet the more it looks with yearning gaze, - The more the heart doth suffer everywhere, - The heart that is with anguish sore distressed-- - Dumb speaker; chatterer with dumbness oppressed; - A wise man babbling folly; - Ruin that slayeth wholly; - The life which joyous harmony doth fill; - Shadow of good that is transformed to ill; - A flight that raiseth us to Heaven on high, - Only that grief may still - Live after we have fallen, and pleasure die; - - A thief unseen that doth destroy us quite, - And robs us of our wealth with ruthless hand, - Carrying our souls away at every hour; - A speed that overtakes the quickest flight; - A riddle none there is to understand; - A life that always is in peril sore; - A chosen, and, withal, a chance-born war; - A truce that is but brief; - Beloved, luckless grief; - Promise that never doth to fruitage come; - Illness that makes within the soul its home; - Coward that upon evil rusheth bold; - Debtor that doth the sum - He owes, which is our due, ever withhold; - - A labyrinth wherein is nestling found - A fierce wild beast that doth itself sustain - On the surrendered hearts of all mankind; - A bond wherewith the lives of all are bound; - A lord that from his steward seeks to gain - Account of deed and word, and of his mind; - Greed, unto countless varied aims inclined; - A worm that builds a house, - Wretched or beauteous, - Where for a little while it dwells and dies; - A sigh that never knows for what it sighs; - A cloud that darkens all our faculties; - A knife that wounds us--this - Is Love, him follow, if ye think it wise.' - -With this song the loveless Lenio ended his reasoning, leaving some -of those that were present full of wonder at both, especially the -gentlemen, for it seemed to them that what Lenio had said seemed of -more worth than was usual with a shepherd's intellect. And with great -desire and attention they were awaiting Thyrsis's reply, all promising -themselves in fancy that it would without any doubt excel Lenio's, for -Thyrsis exceeded him in age and experience, and in the studies most -generally pursued, and this likewise reassured them, for they desired -that Lenio's loveless opinion should not prevail. It is indeed true -that the hapless Teolinda, the loving Leonarda, the fair Rosaura, and -even the lady who came with Darinto and his companion, clearly saw -depicted in Lenio's discourse a thousand points of the course of their -loves; and this was when he came to treat of tears and sighs, and of -how dearly the joys of love were bought. Only the fair Galatea and -the discreet Florisa did not count in this, for up till then love had -not taken count of their fair rebellious breasts, and so they were -eager only to hear the acuteness with which the two famous shepherds -disputed, without seeing in their free will any of the effects of love -they were hearing of. But Thyrsis's will being to reduce to better -limits the loveless shepherds opinion, without waiting to be asked, the -minds of the bystanders hanging on his lips, he set himself in front of -Lenio, and with agreeable and elevated tone began to speak in this wise: - -THYRSIS. 'If the acuteness of your fair intellect, loveless shepherd, -did not assure me that with ease it can attain the truth, from which -it finds itself so far at present, rather than put myself to the -trouble of contradicting your opinion, I would leave you in it, as a -punishment for your unjust words. But because those you have uttered -in blame of love show me the good germs you possess by which you may -be brought to a better purpose, I do not wish by my silence to leave -those who hear us scandalised, love despised, and you pertinacious -and vainglorious; and so, being aided by Love on whom I call, I think -in a few words to show how different are his works and effects from -those you have declared about him, speaking only of the love you mean, -which you defined when you said that it was a desire for beauty, and -likewise declared what beauty was, and a little later you closely -examined all the effects which the love of which you speak produced in -loving breasts, finally strengthening your views with various unhappy -events caused by love. And though the definition you made of love may -be the one most generally given, yet it is not so much so but that it -may be contradicted; for love and desire are two different things, -since not everything that is loved is desired, nor everything that is -desired loved. The reasoning is clear in the case of all things that -are possessed, for then it cannot be said that they are desired, but -that they are loved: thus, he who has health will not say that he -desires health, but that he loves it; and he who has children cannot -say that he desires children, but that he loves his children; nor yet -can it be said of the things that are desired that they are loved, -as of the death of enemies, which is desired and not loved. And so -for this reason love and desire come to be different passions of the -will. The truth is that love is the father of desire, and amongst -other definitions which are given of love this is one. Love is that -first change which we feel caused in our mind by the appetite which -moves us and draws us to itself, delighting and pleasing us; and that -pleasure begets motion in the soul, which motion is called desire, -and, in short, desire is a motion of the appetite in regard to what -is loved, and a wish for that which is possessed, and its object is -happiness. And as there are found different species of desires, and -love is a species of desire which looks to and regards the happiness -which is called fair, yet for a clearer definition and division of -love it must be understood that it is divided into three kinds, chaste -love, useful love, and delectable love. And to these three forms of -love are reduced all the kinds of loving and desiring that can exist -in our will: for the chaste love regards the things of Heaven, eternal -and divine; the useful, the things of earth, full of joy and doomed -to perish, such as wealth, powers, and lordships; the delectable, -things giving delight and pleasure, as the living corporeal beauties of -which you, Lenio, spoke. And each form of these loves of which I have -spoken ought not to be blamed by any tongue, for the chaste love ever -was, is and must be spotless, simple, pure and divine, finding rest -and repose in God alone. Profitable love, being, as it is, natural, -ought not to be condemned, still less the delectable, for it is more -natural than the profitable. That these two forms of love are natural -in us, experience shows us, for as soon as our daring first parent -transgressed the divine commandment, and from lord was made a servant, -and from freeman a slave, straightway he knew the misery into which he -had fallen, and the poverty in which he was. And so he at once took -the leaves of trees to cover him, and sweated and toiled, breaking -the earth to sustain himself, and to live with the least discomfort -possible; and thereafter, obeying his God therein better than in aught -else, he sought to have children, and in them to perpetuate and delight -the human race. And as by his disobedience death entered into him, and -through him into all his descendants, so we inherit at the same time -all his affections and passions, as we inherit his very nature; and as -he sought to remedy his necessity and poverty, so we cannot fail to -seek and desire to remedy ours. And hence springs the love we have for -things useful to human life; and the more we gain of them, the more it -seems to us we remedy our want. And by the same reasoning we inherit -the desire of perpetuating ourselves in our children; and from this -desire follows that, which we have, to enjoy living corporeal beauty, -as the only true means which lead such desires to a happy end. So that -this delectable love, alone and without mixture of any other accident, -is worthy rather of praise than of blame. And this is the love, which -you, Lenio, hold for enemy; and the cause is that you do not understand -it, nor know it, for you have never seen it alone, and in its own -shape, but always accompanied by pernicious, lascivious and ill-placed -desires. And this is not the fault of love, which is always good, but -of the accidents which come to it; as we see happening in some copious -stream, that has its birth from some clear and limpid spring, which -is ever supplying to it clear cool waters, and a little while after -it leaves its stainless mother, its sweet and crystalline waters are -changed to bitter and turbid, by reason of the many stained brooks, -which join it on either side. Hence this first motion, love or desire -as you would call it, cannot arise except from a good beginning; and -truly among good beginnings is the knowledge of beauty, which, once -recognised as such, it seems well-nigh impossible to avoid loving. -And beauty has such power to move our minds, that it alone caused the -ancient philosophers (blind and without the light of faith to guide -them), led by natural reason, and attracted by the beauty they beheld -in the starry heavens, and in the mechanism and roundness of the earth, -marvelling at such harmony and beauty, to pursue investigations with -the understanding, making a ladder by these second causes to reach the -first cause of causes; and they recognised that there was one only -beginning without beginning of all things. But that which made them -wonder most and raise their thoughts, was to see the frame of man so -well-ordered, so perfect and so beautiful, that they came to call him a -world in little; and so it is true that in all the works made by God's -steward, Nature, nothing is of such excellence, nor reveals more the -greatness and wisdom of its Maker. For in the form and frame of man is -summed up and enclosed the beauty which is distributed in all the other -parts of it; and hence it arises that this beauty, when recognised, is -loved, and as all beauty displays itself most and is most resplendent -in the face, as soon as a beautiful face is seen, it summons and draws -the will to love it. - -'Hence it follows that as the faces of women so much excel in beauty -those of men, it is they who are the more loved, served and courted by -us, as the object in which dwells the beauty that is naturally more -pleasing to our sight. But our Maker and Creator, seeing that it is -the proper nature of our soul to be for ever in perpetual motion and -desire, for it cannot find rest save in God, as in its proper centre, -willed, so that it might not rush with loosened rein to desire things -empty and doomed to perish, and this without taking from it the liberty -of free-will, to set over its three powers an alert sentinel, who -should warn it against the dangers that opposed it and the enemies -that persecuted it; this was reason, which corrects and curbs our -inordinate desires. And seeing likewise that human beauty must needs -draw after it our passions and inclinations, while it did not seem good -to Him to take away from us this desire, at least He wished to temper -it and correct it, ordaining the holy yoke of matrimony, beneath which -most of the natural joys and pleasures of love are lawful and fitting -for man and woman. By these two remedies imposed by the divine hand -comes to be tempered the excess there can be in the natural love which -you, Lenio, blame, which love is of itself so good that if it were -lacking in us, the world and we would end. In this very love of which -I am speaking are summed up all the virtues, for love is moderation, -since the lover, according to the chaste wish of the beloved object, -tempers his own; it is fortitude, for the lover can endure any -adversity for the love of the one who loves him; it is justice, for -with it he serves her who loves well, reason itself forcing him to -it; it is prudence, for love is adorned with all wisdom. But I ask -you, oh Lenio, you who have said that love is the cause of the ruin -of empires, of the destruction of cities, of the deaths of friends, -of sacrileges committed, the deviser of treasons, the transgressor of -laws--I ask you, I say, to tell me, what praiseworthy thing there is -to-day in the world, however good it be, the use of which cannot be -changed into evil. Let philosophy be condemned, for often it discovers -our faults, and many philosophers have been wicked; let the works of -the heroic poets be burned, for with their satires and verses they -reprehend vices; let medicine be blamed, for men discover poisons; let -eloquence be called useless, for at times it has been so arrogant that -it has placed in doubt the recognised truth; let not arms be forged, -for robbers and murderers use them; let not houses be built, for they -can fall upon the inhabitants; let variety of victuals be prohibited, -for they are wont to be a cause of illness; let no one seek to have -children, for Œdipus, driven by cruellest madness, slew his father, -and Orestes smote the breast of his own mother; let fire be counted -evil, for it is wont to burn houses and to consume cities; let water -be despised, for with it all the earth was flooded; in a word, let -all elements be condemned, for they can be perversely used by some -perverse persons. And in this manner every good thing can be changed -to evil, and from it can proceed evil effects, if placed in the hands -of those who, as irrational beings, allow themselves to be governed by -the appetite, without moderation. The ancient Carthage, rival of the -Roman Empire, warlike Numantia, Corinth made so fair, proud Thebes, -and learned Athens, and God's city Jerusalem, which were conquered and -laid desolate--are we to say therefore that love was the cause of their -destruction and ruin? Hence those who are accustomed to speak ill of -love, ought to speak ill of their own selves, for the gifts of love, if -they are used with moderation, are worthy of perpetual praise; since -in everything the mean was always praised, or the extreme was blamed, -for if we embrace virtue beyond what suffices, the wise man will win -the name of fool, and the just of iniquitous. It was the opinion of -the ancient tragedian Chremes, that, as wine mixed with water is -good, so love, when moderate, is profitable, but it is the contrary -when immoderate; the generation of rational animals and brutes would -be naught if it did not proceed from love, and if it were wanting on -earth, the latter would be deserted and empty. The ancients believed -that love was the work of the gods, given for the preservation and -care of mankind. But, coming to what you, Lenio, said of the sad and -strange effects which love produces in loving breasts, keeping them -ever in ceaseless tears, deep sighs, despairing fancies, without ever -granting them an hour of repose--let us see perchance what thing can -be desired in this life the attainment of which does not cost fatigue -and toil; and the more valuable a thing is, the more one must suffer -and does suffer for it. For desire presupposes a lack of the desired -object, and until it is gained there must needs be disturbance in our -mind. If then all human desires, without wholly attaining what they -desire, can be rewarded and contented with a part of it being given -them, and with all this it is compatible to follow them, how strange -it is that to attain what cannot satisfy nor content the desire save -with itself, one should suffer, weep, fear and hope? He who desires -lordships, commands, honours, and riches, since he sees that he cannot -reach the highest rank he would wish, when he succeeds in settling in -some good position, is partly satisfied, for the hope which fails him -of not being able to ascend further, makes him stop where he can, and -where best he can. All this is the contrary in love, for love has no -other reward nor satisfaction save love itself, and love itself is its -own true reward; and for this reason it is impossible for the lover -to be content till he clearly knows that he is truly loved, being -assured of this by the loving tokens which they know. And so they value -highly a pleasing glance, a pledge of any sort from their beloved, a -trivial smile, or word, or jest they take for truth, as signs which -are assuring them of the reward they desire; and so, whenever they see -tokens contrary thereto, the lover is constrained to lament and grieve, -without having moderation in his sorrows, since he cannot have it in -his joys, when kind fortune and gentle love grant them to him. And, as -it is a task of such difficulty to bring another's will to be one with -mine, and to unite two souls in a knot and bond so indissoluble that -the thoughts of the two may be one and all their deeds one, it is not -strange that to achieve so lofty a purpose one should suffer more than -for aught else, since, after it is achieved, it satisfies and gladdens -beyond all things that are desired in this life. Not always are the -tears of lovers shed with cause and reason, nor their sighs scattered, -for if all their tears and sighs were caused by seeing that their wish -is not responded to as is due, and with the reward that is sought for, -it would be necessary to consider first whither they raised their -fancy, and if they exalted it higher than their merit attains, it is no -wonder that, like some new Icarus, they fall consumed into the river of -miseries; and for these love will not incur the blame, but their folly. -With all this I do not deny, but affirm that the desire of gaining -what is loved, must needs cause affliction, by reason of the want it -presupposes, as I have already said at other times; but I also say that -to attain it gives the greatest pleasure and happiness, like rest to -the weary and health to the sick. Together with this I acknowledge that -if lovers marked, as in the ancient custom, with white and black stones -their sad or happy days, without any doubt the unhappy would be more; -but I also recognise that the quality of one white stone alone would -excel the quantity of countless black ones. And for a proof of this -truth we see that lovers never repent of being lovers, nay, rather, if -anyone should promise them to deliver them from love's disease, they -would repel him as an enemy; for even to suffer it is pleasant to them; -and therefore, oh lovers, let no fear prevent you from offering and -dedicating yourselves to love what should seem to you most difficult, -nor complain, nor repent, if you have raised things lowly to your -height, for love makes the little equal to the sublime, the lesser to -the greater; and with just resolve it tempers the various dispositions -of lovers, when with pure affection they receive its grace in their -hearts. Yield not to dangers, that the glory may be so great as to take -away the feeling of every sorrow; and, as for the captains and emperors -of old, as a reward for their toils and fatigues, triumphs were -prepared according to the greatness of their victories, so for lovers -are reserved a multitude of pleasures and joys; and as with the former -their glorious reception made them forget all their past troubles and -griefs, so with the lover, when beloved by the beloved, his dreadful -dreams, his uncertain sleep, his waking nights, his restless days are -turned to highest peace and happiness. Hence, Lenio, if you condemn -them for their sad effects, you should acquit them for their pleasing -and happy ones. And as for the interpretation you gave of Cupid's form, -I am going to say that you are almost as wrong in it as in the other -things you have said against love. For to picture him a boy, blind, -naked, with wings and arrows, means nothing but that the lover must be -a boy in not having a double character, but one pure and simple; he -must be blind to every other object that might offer itself to him, -save that which he has already been able to see and yield to, naked -because he must have naught save what belongs to her he loves, having -wings of swiftness to be ready for all that may be commanded him on her -part, while he is depicted with arrows, for the wound of the loving -breast must needs be deep and hidden, and that scarce may be disclosed -save to the very cause that is to cure it. That love should strike -with two arrows which operate in different ways, is to show us that in -perfect love there must be no mean between loving and not loving at -the same moment, but that the lover must love whole-heartedly without -any admixture of lukewarmness. Finally, Lenio, this love it is which, -if it destroyed the Trojans, made the Greeks great; if it caused the -works of Carthage to cease, it caused the buildings of Rome to grow; if -it took away the kingdom from Tarquin, it brought back the republic to -freedom. Though I might here adduce many examples opposed to those I -have adduced of the _good_ effects love causes, I do not wish to busy -myself with them, since they are so well known of themselves. I only -wish to ask you to be disposed to believe what I have shown and to -have patience to hear a song of mine which seems as if it was composed -in rivalry of yours; and if by it and by what I have said to you, you -should not be willing to be brought over to love's side, and it should -seem to you that you are not satisfied of the truths I have declared -concerning it, if the present time permits it, or at any other you -might choose and indicate, I promise you to satisfy all the replies and -arguments you might wish to express in opposition to mine; and, for the -present, attend to me and listen: - - Come, issue from the pure and loving breast, - Sonorous voice, and let thy tones of pride - Sing of the lofty marvels done by Love, - So that the thought that freest is and best, - May be content thereby and satisfied, - Though 'tis but hearsay that the thought doth move. - Sweet Love, that canst thy lofty marvels prove, - If thou wilt, by my tongue, - Grant unto it such grace, - That glory, joy and praise, - For telling who thou art, reward my song; - For, if thou aidest me, as I surmise, - Thy worth, in rapid flight - To Heaven's height, we see with mine arise. - - 'Tis Love that is beginning of our bliss; - The means whereby one winneth and attaineth - The happiest end that anyone doth seek; - Unequalled master of all sciences: - A fire, that, though a breast ice cold remaineth, - Into bright flames of virtue makes it break; - A power that wounds the strong and helps the weak; - A root from which is born - The lucky plant whereby - We rise to Heaven on high, - With fruitage, that doth unto pleasure turn - The soul, of goodness, worth, and noble zeal, - Of bliss without alloy, - That earth with joy, and Heaven with love doth fill; - - Courteous and gallant, wise, discreet is he; - Gay, liberal-handed, gentle, rich in might; - Of piercing glance, although blind be his eyes; - True guardian of respect and modesty; - A captain who doth triumph in the fight, - But honour only claimeth as his prize; - A flower that doth 'midst thorns and brambles rise, - Which life and soul adorns; - An enemy of fear; - Of hope a friend so near; - A guest that gladdens most when he returns; - An instrument of honoured wealth, I trow, - Whereby one seeth thrive - The honoured ivy on the honoured brow; - - A natural instinct that doth move us all - To raise the thoughts within our minds so high - That scarce thereto doth human sight attain: - A ladder which he that is bold doth scale - To the sweet region of the hallowed sky; - Ridge at its summit fair, smooth as a plain; - An easiness that makes the intricate plain; - Pole-star that in this sea - Of madness guides the thought - That from sense strayeth not; - A solace of the sorrowing fantasy; - Godfather who doth never seek our harm; - A beacon not concealed - That hath revealed the haven 'midst the storm; - - A painter that doth in our souls portray, - With shadows and with tints full of repose, - Now mortal, now immortal, loveliness; - A sun that driveth all the clouds away; - A pleasure that brings sweetness in our woes; - A glass wherein one sees the kindliness - Of nature, that doth crown with high success - True generosity; - A fiery spirit bright, - That even to the blindest bringeth light; - Of hatred and of fear sole remedy; - Argus that ne'er can tempted be to nod, - Although within his ear - The words he hear of some deceiving god; - - An army of well-armèd infantry - That countless difficulties puts to flight, - And ever wins the victory and the palm; - A dwelling where abideth jollity; - A face that never hides the truth from sight, - But shows what is within the soul; a balm - Whose power the tempest changeth to sweet calm. - Merely because some day - We hope to have it sure; - A comfort that doth cure - Him who is scorned, when life doth pass away; - Finally Love is life, 'tis glory, gladness, - 'Tis joyful peace and sweet; - Follow his feet; to follow him is gladness.' - -The end of the reasoning and song of Thyrsis was the beginning to -confirm anew in all the reputation he had for discretion, save in the -loveless Lenio, to whom his reply did not seem so good as to satisfy -his understanding, and change him from his first purpose. This was -clearly seen, for he was already giving signs of wishing to answer -and reply to Thyrsis, had not the praises Darinto and his companion, -and all the shepherds and shepherdesses present were giving the two, -prevented it; for Darinto's friend, taking his hand, said: - -'I have just at this moment learnt how the power and wisdom of love -extends over every part of the earth; and that the place where it is -most refined and purified is in shepherds' breasts, as has been shown -to us by what we have heard from the loveless Lenio and the discreet -Thyrsis, whose reasonings and arguments savour more of intellects -nurtured amidst books and lecture-rooms, than of those that have grown -up amidst thatched huts. But I would not be so astonished thereat, if I -were of the opinion of him who said that the knowledge of our souls was -to remember what they already knew, presupposing that they are all born -instructed. But when I see that I ought to follow the other and better -view of him who affirmed that our soul was as it were a blank canvas, -which had nothing painted on it, I cannot fail to wonder at seeing how -it has been possible, in the company of sheep, in the solitude of the -fields, for one to be able to acquire sciences, concerning which it -is scarcely possible to hold disputes in renowned universities; if, -indeed, I do not wish to be persuaded of what I said at first, that -love extends through all, and communicates itself to all, raising the -fallen, giving wisdom to the simple, and making perfect the wise.' - -'If you knew, sir,' replied Elicio at this moment, 'how the upbringing -of the renowned Thyrsis has not been amidst trees and forests, as you -fancy, but in royal courts and well-known schools, you would not wonder -at what he has said, but at what he has left unsaid; and although the -loveless Lenio in his humility has confessed that the rusticity of his -life can promise but slight pledges of intellect, nevertheless I assure -you that he spent the choicest years of his life, not in the pursuit -of tending goats on the hills, but on the banks of the clear Tormes in -laudable studies and discreet converse. So that if the colloquy the two -have held seems to you of more worth than one of shepherds, consider -them as they were, and not as they now are; all the more so that you -will find shepherds on these banks of ours, who will not cause you less -wonder if you hear them, than those you have heard now. For on them -are grazing their flocks the famous and well-known Franio, Siralvo, -Filardo, Silvano, Lisardo and the two Matuntos, father and son, -excelling beyond all excellence, one on the lyre, the other in poetry; -and, to crown all, turn your eyes and know the well-known Damon, whom -you have before you, where your desire can rest if it wishes to know -the extreme of discretion and wisdom.' - -The gentleman was about to reply to Elicio, when one of those ladies -who came with him said to the other: - -'It seems to me, señora Nisida, that since the sun is now setting it -would be well for us to go, if we are to reach to-morrow the spot where -they say our father is.' - -The lady had scarcely said this, when Darinto and his companion looked -at her, showing that it had grieved them that she had called the other -by her name. But when Elicio heard the name of Nisida, the thought -struck him whether it was that Nisida of whom the hermit Silerio had -related so many things, and the same idea came to Thyrsis, Damon and -Erastro. And Elicio, to assure himself of what he suspected, said: - -'A few days ago, señor Darinto, I and some of us who are here heard -the name of Nisida mentioned, as has been done by that lady now, but -accompanied by more tears and referred to with more alarm.' - -'Is there perchance,' replied Darinto, 'any shepherdess on these banks -of yours called Nisida?' - -'No,' replied Elicio; 'but she whom I speak of was born on them, and -was nurtured on the remote banks of the famous Sebeto.' - -'What is it you say, shepherd?' rejoined the other gentleman. - -'What you hear,' replied Elicio, 'and what you will hear at greater -length, if you assure me of a suspicion I have.' - -'Tell it me,' said the gentleman, 'for it might be that I shall satisfy -you therein.' - -To this Elicio replied: 'Is your own name, sir, perchance Timbrio?' - -'I cannot deny that truth to you,' replied the other, 'for I am called -Timbrio, which name I had fain concealed till another more fitting -season; but the wish I have to know why you suspected that I was so -called, constrains me to conceal naught from you of what you might wish -to know of me.' - -'Accordingly you will not deny to me either,' said Elicio, 'that this -lady you have with you is called Nisida, and further, so far as I can -guess, the other is called Blanca, and is her sister.' - -'In all you have hit the mark,' replied Timbrio; 'but since I have -denied to you nothing of what you have asked me, do not you deny me the -reason that has moved you to ask it me.' - -'It is as good, and will be as much to your taste,' replied Elicio, 'as -you will see before many hours.' - -All those who did not know what the hermit Silerio had said to Elicio, -Thyrsis, Damon and Erastro, were confounded, hearing what was passing -between Timbrio and Elicio. But at this moment Damon said, turning to -Elicio: - -'Do not keep back, oh Elicio, the good tidings you can give to Timbrio.' - -'And I, too,' said Erastro, 'shall not delay a moment in going to give -to the hapless Silerio those of the finding of Timbrio.' - -'Holy Heavens! O, what is it I hear!' said Timbrio; 'and what is it -you say, shepherd? Is that Silerio you have named perchance he who is -my true friend, he who is the half of my life, he whom I desire to see -more than aught else that desire could ask of me? Free me from this -doubt at once, so may your flocks increase and multiply, in such a -manner that all the neighbouring herdsmen may bear you envy.' - -'Do not distress yourself so much, Timbrio,' said Damon, 'for the -Silerio that Erastro speaks of is the same that you speak of, and the -one who desires more to know of your life than to sustain and lengthen -his own; for after you departed from Naples, as he has told us, he has -felt your absence so much, that the pain of it, with that which other -losses he related to us caused him, has brought him to the pass that, -in a small hermitage, a little less than a league distant from here, he -leads the straitest life imaginable, with the determination of awaiting -death there, since he could not be satisfied by learning how your life -had prospered. This we know for sure, Thyrsis, Elicio, Erastro, and I; -for he himself has told us of the friendship he had with you, with all -the story of the events that happened to both, until fortune by such -strange accidents parted you, to set him apart to live in a solitude so -strange, that it will cause you wonder when you see him.' - -'May I see him, and may straightway come the last end of my days,' said -Timbrio; 'and so I pray you, famous shepherds, by that courtesy which -dwells in your breasts, to satisfy this breast of mine, by telling me -where is that hermitage where Silerio is living.' - -'Where he is dying, you had better say,' said Erastro, 'but -henceforward he will live with the news of your coming; and since you -so much desire his pleasure and yours, arise and let us go, for before -the sun sets I will set you with Silerio; but it must be on condition -that on the way you tell us all that has happened to you since you -departed from Naples, for with all the rest up to that point some of -those present are acquainted.' - -'Small payment you ask of me,' replied Timbrio, 'for so great a thing -as you offer me; for I do not say that I will tell you this, but all -that you might wish to learn of me and more.' And, turning to the -ladies who came with him, he said to them: 'Since with so good a cause, -dear lady Nisida, the motive we had not to utter our own names has been -destroyed, with the joy that the good news they have given us demands, -I ask you that we should not delay, but that we should go forthwith -to see Silerio, to whom you and I owe our lives and the happiness we -possess.' - -'It is needless, señor Timbrio,' replied Nisida, 'for you to ask me to -do a thing I desire so much, and the doing of which suits me so well; -let us go, and may good luck attend us, for now every moment that I -delay in seeing him, will be to me an age.' - -The same said the other lady, who was her sister Blanca, the same -that Silerio had spoken of, and the one who gave the greatest signs -of happiness. Darinto alone, at the news of Silerio, assumed such an -attitude that he did not move his lips, but with a strange silence -arose, and bade a servant of his bring him the horse on which he -had come there; without taking leave of any one, he mounted it, and -turning the reins went away from all at a gallop. When Timbrio saw -this, he mounted another horse and with much haste followed Darinto -until he overtook him; and seizing hold of the horse's reins, he made -him stand still, and remained there talking with him a good while, at -the end of which Timbrio returned to where the shepherds were, and -Darinto pursued his journey, sending to excuse himself by Timbrio for -having departed without taking leave of them. In the meantime Galatea, -Rosaura, Teolinda, Leonarda, and Florisa went up to the fair Nisida and -Blanca; and the discreet Nisida told them in a few words of the great -friendship there was between Timbrio and Silerio, with a great part -of the events they had passed through. But with Timbrio's return all -wished to set themselves on the road for Silerio's hermitage, had not -at the same moment a fair young shepherdess, some fifteen years of age, -come to the spring, with her wallet on her shoulder and her crook in -her hand. And when she saw so pleasing a company, she said to them with -tears in her eyes: - -'If perchance there is among you, gentlemen, one who has any knowledge -of the strange effects and accidents of love, and whose breast tears -and loving sights are wont to make tender, let him who feels this -hasten to see if it is possible to heal and check the most loving tears -and deep sighs that ever issued from love-sick eyes and breasts; hasten -then, shepherds, to do what I ask you and you will see how when you -observe what I show you I prove my words true.' - -And in saying this she turned her back, and all who were there followed -her. The shepherdess, seeing then that they followed her, with hasty -step entered in among some trees which were on one side of the spring; -and she had not gone far, when turning to those who were coming after -her, she said to them: - -'You see there, sirs, the cause of my tears, for that shepherd -who appears there is a brother of mine, who for the sake of that -shepherdess before whom he is bent on his knees, without any doubt will -leave his life in the hands of her cruelty.' - -All turned their eyes to the spot the shepherdess indicated, and saw -that at the foot of a green willow a shepherdess was leaning, dressed -like a huntress nymph, with a rich quiver hanging at her side, and a -curved bow in her hands, her beauteous ruddy locks bound together with -a green garland. The shepherd was before her on his knees, with a rope -cast round his throat and an unsheathed knife in his right hand, and -with his left he had seized the shepherdess by a white scarf, which -she wore over her dress. The shepherdess showed a frown on her face, -and that she was displeased that the shepherd should detain her there -by force; but when she saw that they were looking at her, with great -earnestness she sought to free herself from the hand of the hapless -shepherd, who with abundance of tender tears and loving words was -begging her at least to give him opportunity that he might be able -to indicate to her the pain he suffered for her; but the scornful -and angry shepherdess went away from him at the very moment all the -shepherds came so near that they heard the love-sick youth addressing -the shepherdess in such wise: - -'Oh ungrateful and heedless Gelasia, with how just a title you have won -the name you have of cruel! Turn your eyes, hard-hearted one, to behold -him who, from beholding you, is in the extremest grief imaginable. Why -do you flee from him who follows you? Why do you not welcome him who -serves you? And why do you loathe him who adores you? You, who are -without reason my foe, hard as a lofty cliff, angry as a wounded snake, -deaf as a dumb forest, scornful as boorish, boorish as fierce, fierce -as a tiger, a tiger that feeds on my entrails! Will it be possible for -my tears not to soften you, for my sighs not to rouse your pity, for my -services not to move you? Yes, it will be possible; since my brief and -ill-starred lot wishes it, and yet it will also be possible for you not -to wish to tighten this noose I have at my throat, nor to plunge this -knife through this heart that adores you. Turn, shepherdess, turn, and -end the tragedy of my wretched life, since with such ease you can make -fast this rope at my throat, or make bloody this knife in my breast.' - -These and other like words the hapless shepherd uttered, accompanied -by sobs and tears so many that they moved to compassion as many as -heard him. But the cruel and loveless shepherdess did not therefore -cease to pursue her way, without wishing even to turn her eyes to -behold the shepherd, who, for her sake, was in such a state; whereat -all those who perceived her angry disdain were not a little astonished, -and it was so great that even the loveless Lenio thought ill of the -shepherdess's cruelty. And so he with the old Arsindo went up to ask -her to be so good as to turn and hear the plaints of the love-sick -youth, even though she should have no intention of healing them. But it -was not possible to change her from her purpose, rather she asked them -not to count her discourteous in not doing what they bade her; for her -intention was to be the mortal enemy of love and of all lovers, for -many reasons which moved her to it, and one of them was that from her -childhood she had dedicated herself to follow the pursuit of the chaste -Diana, adding to these so many reasons for not doing the bidding of the -shepherds that Arsindo held it for good to leave her and return. The -loveless Lenio did not do this, and when he saw that the shepherdess -was such an enemy of love as she seemed, and that she agreed so -completely with his loveless disposition, he determined to know who -she was, and to follow her company for some days; and so he told her -how he was the greatest enemy love and lovers had, begging her that -since they agreed so much in their opinions, she would be so kind as -not to be wearied with his company which would not be hers longer than -she pleased. The shepherdess rejoiced to learn Lenio's intention, and -permitted him to come with her to her village, which was two leagues -from Lenio's. Therewith Lenio took leave of Arsindo, begging him to -excuse him to all his friends and to tell them the reason that had -moved him to go with the shepherdess, and without waiting further, he -and Gelasia went away quickly and in a short while disappeared. When -Arsindo returned to tell what had passed with the shepherdess, he found -that all the shepherds had gone up to console the love-sick shepherd, -and that, as for the two of the three veiled shepherdesses, one had -fainted in the fair Galatea's lap, and the other was in the embrace of -the beauteous Rosaura, who likewise had her face covered. She who was -with Galatea was Teolinda, and the other her sister Leonarda, whose -hearts, as soon as they saw the despairing shepherd whom they found -with Gelasia, were overwhelmed with a jealous and love-sick faintness, -for Leonarda believed the shepherd was her beloved Galercio, and -Teolinda counted it truth that he was her enamoured Artidoro; and when -the two saw him so subdued and undone by the cruel Gelasia, they felt -such grief in soul that all senseless they fell fainting, one into -Galatea's lap, the other into Rosaura's arms. But a little while after -Leonarda, coming to herself, said to Rosaura: - -'Alas, my lady, I verily believe that fortune has occupied all the -passes of my cure, since Galercio's will is so far from being mine, -as can be seen by the words that shepherd has spoken to the loveless -Gelasia; for I would have you know, lady, that that is he who has -stolen my freedom, nay he who is to end my days.' - -Rosaura was astonished at what Leonarda was saying; and was more so -when, Teolinda also having come to herself, she and Galatea called her, -and, all joining Florisa and Leonarda, Teolinda said that that shepherd -was her longed-for Artidoro; but scarcely had she named him, when her -sister replied to her that she was deceived, for it was none but his -brother Galercio: - -'Ah, traitorous Leonarda,' replied Teolinda, 'does it not suffice you -that you have once parted me from my bliss, without wishing, now that I -find it, to say that it is yours? Then undeceive yourself, for in this -I do not deem you a sister, but an open foe.' - -'Without doubt you deceive yourself, sister,' replied Leonarda, 'and I -do not wonder, for into this same error all the people of our village -fell, believing that this shepherd was Artidoro, until they clearly -came to understand that it was none but his brother Galercio, for they -resemble each other as much as we do; and indeed, if there can be -greater likeness, they have a greater likeness.' - -'I will not believe it,' replied Teolinda, 'for, though we are so -much alike, these miracles are not so easily found in nature; and so -I would have you know that so long as experience does not make me -more certain of the truth than your words make me, I do not think of -ceasing to believe that that shepherd I see there, is Artidoro; and if -anything could make me doubt it, it is that I do not think that from -the disposition and constancy I have known in Artidoro, it can be hoped -or feared that he has made a change so soon and forgets me.' - -'Calm yourselves, shepherdesses,' then said Rosaura, 'for I will free -you soon from that doubt in which you are.' - -And leaving them she went to where the shepherd was giving to the -shepherds account of Gelasia's strange disposition and of the wrongs -she did him. At his side the shepherd had the fair little shepherdess -who said he was her brother, whom Rosaura called, and, withdrawing with -her to one side, she begged and prayed her to tell her what her brother -was called, and if she had any other like him. To this the shepherdess -replied that he was called Galercio, and that she had another called -Artidoro, who was so like him that they could scarcely be distinguished -save by some mark in their dress, or by the organ of the voice, which -differed somewhat. She asked her also what Artidoro had been doing. The -shepherdess answered her that he was on some mountains some distance -from there, grazing part of Grisaldo's flock with another herd of goats -of his own, and that he had never been willing to enter the village, -or to hold converse with any one, since he had come from the banks of -Henares; and together with these she gave her such other details that -Rosaura was satisfied that the shepherd was not Artidoro, but Galercio, -as Leonarda had said and that shepherdess said, whose name she learned -was Maurisa. And taking her with her to where Galatea and the other -shepherdesses were, she related again in the presence of Teolinda and -Leonarda all she knew of Artidoro and Galercio, whereat Teolinda was -soothed and Leonarda ill content, seeing how indisposed Galercio's mind -was to think of her affairs. In the discourses the shepherdesses were -holding, it chanced that Leonarda called the veiled Rosaura by her -name, and Maurisa, hearing it, said: - -'If I do not deceive myself, lady, my coming here and my brother's has -been on your account.' - -'In what way?' said Rosaura. - -'I will tell it you, if you give me leave to tell it you alone,' -replied the shepherdess. - -'Willingly,' answered Rosaura, and the shepherdess going aside with -her, said to her: - -'Without any doubt, fair lady, it is to you and to the shepherdess -Galatea that my brother and I come with a message from our master -Grisaldo.' - -'That is the case,' replied Rosaura, and calling Galatea, both listened -to what Maurisa said from Grisaldo, which was to inform them that he -would come in two days with two friends of his, to take her to his -aunt's house, where they would in secret celebrate their nuptials, -and together with this she gave to Galatea on behalf of Grisaldo some -rich golden trinkets, by way of thanks for the willingness she had -shown to entertain Rosaura. Rosaura and Galatea thanked Maurisa for -the good news, and in reward for it the discreet Galatea wished to -share with her the present Grisaldo had sent her, but Maurisa would in -no way accept it. Then Galatea began again to ask information about -the strange likeness there was between Galercio and Artidoro. All the -time Galatea and Rosaura spent in talking to Maurisa, Teolinda and -Leonarda occupied in looking at Galercio, for, Teolinda's eyes feasting -on Galercio's face which resembled Artidoro's so much, she could not -withdraw them from looking; and as those of the love-sick Leonarda knew -on what they were looking, it was also impossible for her to turn them -elsewhere. By this time the shepherds had consoled Galercio, though, -for the ill he suffered, he counted every counsel and consolation -vain and needless, all of which redounded to Leonarda's hurt. Rosaura -and Galatea, seeing that the shepherds were coming towards them, bade -Maurisa farewell, telling her to tell Grisaldo that Rosaura would be in -Galatea's house. Maurisa took leave of them, and calling her brother, -told him in secret what had passed with Rosaura and Galatea; and so -with fair courtesy he took leave of them and of the shepherds and with -his sister returned to his village. But the love-sick sisters Teolinda -and Leonarda, who saw that when Galercio went, the light of their eyes -and the life of their life went from them, both together approached -Galatea and Rosaura and asked them to give them leave to follow -Galercio, Teolinda giving as excuse that Galercio would tell her where -Artidoro was, and Leonarda that it might be that Galercio's will would -change, seeing the obligation in which he was to her. The shepherdesses -granted them leave on the condition that Galatea had before begged of -Teolinda that she should inform her of all her good or ill fortune. -Teolinda repeated her promise again, and again taking her leave, -followed the way Galercio and Maurisa were pursuing. The same was -done forthwith, though in a different direction, by Timbrio, Thyrsis, -Damon, Orompo, Crisio, Marsilio, and Orfenio, who went their way to -the hermitage of Silerio with the fair sisters Nisida and Blanca, -having first all taken leave of the venerable Aurelio and of Galatea, -Rosaura and Florisa, and also of Elicio and Erastro, who did not wish -to fail to go back with Galatea, Aurelio offering that on coming to his -village, he would go straightway with Elicio and Erastro to seek them -at Silerio's hermitage, and would bring something with which to make -good the lack of means Silerio would have to entertain such guests. -With this understanding they went away, some in one direction and some -in another, and missing the old Arsindo at the leave-taking, they saw -that, without taking leave of any one, he was going in the distance -by the same way Galercio and Maurisa and the veiled shepherdesses -were pursuing, whereat they wondered; and seeing that now the sun was -hastening his course to enter by the gates of the west, they did not -wish to delay there further, in order to come to the village before the -shades of night. Elicio and Erastro then, seeing themselves before the -lady of their thoughts, in order to show somewhat that which they could -not conceal, and to lighten the fatigue of the way, and also to fulfil -the bidding of Florisa, who bade them sing something whilst they were -going to the village, to the sound of Florisa's pipe began, Elicio to -sing and Erastro to reply in this wise: - -ELICIO. - Whoso would fain the greatest beauty find - That was, or is, or shall be on the earth, - The fire and crucible, where are refined - White chastity and purest zeal, all worth, - Being, and understanding of the mind, - A Heaven that in the world had its new birth, - Loftiness joined in one with courtesy, - Let him approach my shepherdess to see. - -ERASTRO. - Let him approach my shepherdess to see, - Whoso would tell the peoples of the sight - That he hath seen, a sun whose radiancy - The day illumined, than the sun more bright; - How with her fire she chilleth, this can be - Made known, and how the soul she sets alight - Which touched by her fair flashing eyes has been, - That naught is left to see when they are seen. - -ELICIO. - That naught is left to see when they are seen, - This truth full well my wearied eyes do know, - Eyes that unto my hurt so fair have been, - The chief occasion of my bitter woe: - I saw them, and I saw my soul therein - Burning, the spoils of all its powers aglow, - Yielding in sweet surrender to their flame, - Which doth me summon, banish, freeze, inflame. - -ERASTRO. - She doth me summon, banish, freeze, inflame, - She, the sweet enemy unto my glory, - From whose illustrious life and being fame - Can weave a strange, and yet a truthful story: - Her eyes alone, wherein Love sets his claim - To power, and all his winsomeness before ye, - Present a theme to raise to Heaven's height - A quill from any wing of lowly flight. - -ELICIO. - A quill from any wing of lowly flight, - If it would wish unto the sky to rise, - The courtesy must sing, the zeal for right, - Of this rare phœnix, peerless 'neath the skies, - Our age's glory, and the world's delight, - Of the clear Tagus and its bank the prize, - Unequalled wisdom hers, and beauty rare, - Nature achieved her highest work in her. - -ERASTRO. - Nature achieved her highest work in her, - In her the thought hath equal been to the art, - In her both worth and grace united were, - Which in all other maids are found apart, - In her humility and greatness share - Together side by side the self-same part, - In her Love hath his nest and dwelling made, - And yet my foe hath been the thankless maid. - -ELICIO. - And yet my foe hath been the thankless maid, - Who would, and could, and should at once my thought - That wanders free, hold fast, if but the aid - Of one of her gossamer locks she sought; - Though I within the narrow noose am laid, - My capture is with so much pleasure fraught, - That foot and neck I stretch out to the chain, - Sweet is the name I call my bitter pain. - -ERASTRO. - Sweet is the name I call my bitter pain, - Short is the life and full of misery - Of the sad soul my frame doth scarce sustain, - And sustenance doth scarce to it supply, - To my brief hope that it the crown should gain - Of faith, fortune once promised bounteously; - What pleasure, good or glory doth he know, - Where hope diminisheth and faith doth grow? - -ELICIO. - Where hope diminisheth and faith doth grow, - There one can see and know the lofty aims - That loyal love proclaims; for he whose thought - Hath confidence but sought in love so pure, - Of a reward secure and certain is, - Which shall with truest bliss his soul delight. - -ERASTRO. - The wretched suffering wight, whom illness swayeth - And with cruel anguish slayeth, is contented, - When he is most tormented by his grief, - With any small relief, though soon 'tis gone: - But when more dull hath grown at last the pain, - He calls on health, and fain would have it sound. - Not otherwise is found the tender breast - Of the lover oppressed with grievous sadness, - Who says his pain doth gladness find herein, - In that the light serene of the fair eyes - To which as spoil and prize he gave his days, - Should on him truly gaze or feignedly; - Soon as love sets him free and makes him strong, - He seeks with clamorous tongue more than before. - -ELICIO. - Now the fair sun sinks o'er the hill to rest, - The growing gloom doth, best of friends, invite - Us to repose, the night is drawing nigh. - -ERASTRO. - The village draweth nigh, for rest I long. - -ELICIO. - Let us put silence to our wonted song. - -Those who were listening to Elicio and Erastro would have held it a -good thing that the way should be prolonged in order to enjoy more -the agreeable song of the love-sick shepherds; but the closing-in of -night and their coming to the village caused them to cease from it, and -Aurelio, Galatea, Rosaura, and Florisa to betake themselves to their -house. Elicio and Erastro likewise went to theirs, with the intention -of going forthwith to where Thyrsis and Damon and the other shepherds -were, for so it was agreed between them and Galatea's father. They -were only waiting until the white moon should banish the darkness of -the night; and as soon as she showed her fair face, they went to seek -Aurelio, and all together made their way towards the hermitage, where -there happened to them what will be seen in the following book. - - - - - BOOK V. - - -So great was the desire the love-sick Timbrio and the two fair sisters -Nisida and Blanca felt to reach Silerio's hermitage that the swiftness -of their steps, though it was great, could not come up to that of their -will; and, knowing this, Thyrsis and Damon would not press Timbrio -to fulfil the word he had given to relate to them on the way all -that had happened during his travels after he departed from Silerio. -Nevertheless, carried away by the desire they had to learn it, they -were just going to ask it of him, had there not at that moment smitten -the ears of all the voice of a shepherd, who was singing amongst some -green trees a little way off the road; from the somewhat untuneful -sound of his voice, and from what he was singing, he was at once -recognised by most of those who were coming along, especially by his -friend Damon, for it was the shepherd Lauso who was repeating some -verses to the sound of a small rebeck. And because the shepherd was so -well known, and all had learned of the change which had taken place in -his inclination, they checked their steps of one accord, and stopped to -listen to what Lauso was singing, which was this: - -LAUSO. - Who hath come a slave to make - Of my thought, with freedom filled? - Who, where fortune did forsake, - Lofty towers of wind could build - On foundations doomed to break? - Who my freedom took away, - What time I in safety lay, - And with life was satisfied? - Who my breast hath opened wide, - And hath made my will decay? - - Whither hath the fancy flown - Of my scornful, loveless mind? - Whither the soul I called my own? - And the heart that none may find - Where it was--whither hath it gone? - Where can my whole being be? - Whence come I and whither flee? - Know I aught of this my pass? - Am I he that once I was, - Or have I been never he? - - On myself I call to explain, - Yet I cannot prove the truth, - Since to this pass I attain - That of what I was in youth - But a shadow I remain; - Knowledge how myself to know, - Help to help myself--these go - Far from me, and sure I find - Woe 'midst such confusion blind, - Yet I think not of my woe. - - In this hapless state I lie, - Captive to my sorrow's power, - To the love that doth comply, - Thus the present I adore, - And bewail the days gone by; - In the present I perceive - That I die, and that I live - In the past; now death I hold - Sweet, and in the days of old - Fate, that bliss no more can give. - - Blind am I, my woe is great - In so strange an agony, - For I see that Love doth prate, - And that in the flames I lie, - Yet 'tis water cold I hate; - Save the water from mine eyes, - Of the fire the fuel and prize, - In the forge of Love I crave - Water none, nor seek to have - Other comfort to my sighs. - - All my bliss would now begin, - All my sorrow now would end, - If my fortune willed herein - That my faith should from my friend - For its truth assurance win; - Come and tell Silena, sighs, - Come, instruct Silena, eyes - Filled with tears, that this is true; - Come, confirm it, each of you, - Pen and tongue and faculties. - -The eager Timbrio neither could nor would wait for the shepherd Lauso -to proceed further with his song, for, begging the shepherds to show -him the way of the hermitage, if they wished to remain, he gave signs -of going on, and so all followed him, and they passed so near to where -the love-sick Lauso was, that he could not fail to perceive it, and -to come forth to meet them, as he did; and all were delighted with -his company, especially Damon, his true friend, whom he accompanied -all the way there was from there to the hermitage, discoursing on the -different events that had happened to the two since they ceased seeing -each other, which was from the time the valorous and renowned shepherd -Astraliano had left the Cisalpine pastures, to go and bring back those -who had rebelled from his famous brother and from the true religion. -And at last they came to bring back their discourse to treat of Lauso's -love, Damon asking him earnestly to tell him who the shepherdess was -who with such ease had won him from free will; and when he could not -learn this from Lauso he begged him with all earnestness at least to -tell him in what state he was, whether of fear or of hope, whether -ingratitude harassed him, or whether jealousy tormented him. To all -this Lauso answered satisfactorily, telling him some things that had -happened to him with his shepherdess; and among other things he told -him, how, finding himself one day jealous and out of favour, he had -come to the pass of putting an end to himself, or of giving some token -that might redound to the hurt of his person and to the credit and -honour of his shepherdess, but all was remedied when he had spoken to -her, and she had assured him that the suspicion he had was false. All -this being confirmed by her giving him a ring from her hand, which -caused his understanding to return to a better course, and that favour -to be celebrated by a sonnet, which was counted for good by some who -saw it. Damon then asked Lauso to repeat it; and so, without being able -to excuse himself, he had to repeat it, and it was this: - -LAUSO. - Love's rich and happy gage, that didst adorn - The precious ivory and the snow so pure! - Love's gage that didst from death and gloom obscure - Unto new light and life bid me return! - - The hell of my misfortune thou didst turn - To the heaven of thy bliss, and thou didst lure - My hope to live in sweetest peace secure,-- - The hope that thou didst cause once more to burn. - - Dost know what thou dost cost me, gage of love? - My soul, and yet I am not satisfied, - Since less I give than what I do receive. - - But, that the world thy worth may know and prove, - Be thou my soul, be hidden in my side! - All shall see how for thee I soulless live. - -Lauso repeated the sonnet, and Damon again asked him, if he had written -anything else to his shepherdess, to repeat it to him, since he knew -how pleasant his verses were for him to hear. To this Lauso replied: - -'This will be, Damon, because you have been my master therein, and the -desire you have to see what improvement you have wrought in me makes -you desire to hear them; but let this be as it may, for nothing that -I could do must be denied you. And so I tell you that in these same -days, when I was jealous and ill at ease, I sent these verses to my -shepherdess.' - - LAUSO TO SILENA. - - In this great wholeheartedness - From the healthy purpose sprung, - 'Tis Love guides the hand along - And the thought thy loveliness; - Love, Silena, in this hour, - And thy loveliness so fair, - Will account discretion rare - What thou wilt deem folly sure. - - Love constrains, loveliness moveth - Me to adore thee, and to write; - Since my faith the twain upright - Hold, my hand its courage proveth; - And in this my fault so great, - Though thy rigour threateneth, - Love, thy loveliness, my faith, - Will my error palliate. - - Since with helpers such as these, - Though they blame me, ne'ertheless, - I can well the bliss express - Sprung from mine own miseries; - And this bliss, full well I know, - Is naught else, Silena fair, - Save that I amid my care - Should a wondrous patience show. - - No small pleasure makes me glad, - For in patience lies my bliss; - Were it not so, long ere this, - Had my misery made me mad; - But my senses all agree, - All together join to cry, - That I, though I needs must die, - May die wise and patiently. - - After all, the jealous one, - Whom none loveth, scarce will be - Able to bear patiently, - When he makes his love-sick moan; - Since, amid my agonies, - All my bliss is banishèd, - When I see that hope is dead, - And the foe before my eyes. - - Countless years, my shepherdess, - Revel in thy blissful thought, - For I seek no pleasure bought - With thy sorrow or distress; - Follow ever, lady fair, - Thy desire, since 'tis thy pleasure, - For I, for another's treasure, - Think not e'er to shed a tear. - - For it had been levity - To the soul my soul to yield, - Which hath as its glory held - That it hath not liberty; - But, ah me! fortune doth will-- - And Love also doth agree-- - That my neck is not to flee - From the knife that doth me kill. - - Now I go--I know too plain-- - After one that shall me doom, - And when thoughts of parting come, - I more firm and fixed remain; - Ah, what bonds, what nets I find, - Dearest! in thine eyes so bright, - Which, the more I take to flight, - Hold the more, the faster bind! - - Eyes, alas! ye make me fear, - That if ye but look on me, - Lesser shall my solace be, - And the greater grow my care; - 'Tis a truth none can gainsay, - That the glances ye bestow - On me, are but feigned, for, lo! - Cruelly they my love repay. - - With what dread and fear oppressed - Ever is my loving mind! - And what opposites I find - In the love within my breast! - Leave me, poignant memory, - Forget, nor another's bliss - Call to mind, for lost in this - Thine own glory is to thee. - - With such tokens thou affirmest - The love that is in thy breast; - By thy wrath I am oppressed, - Ever thou my woes confirmest; - By what laws of thine am I - Doomed to yield, Love, traitor fell! - Soul unto Silena's spell, - While she doth a word deny? - - On points rousing bitter strife - I but for a moment dwell, - For the least of them might well - Leave me mad or without life; - Let my pen no further go, - Since thou mak'st it feel its doom, - 'Tis not in my power to sum - In brief words so great a woe. - -Whilst Lauso was occupied in repeating these verses, and in praising -the unwonted beauty, discretion, grace, modesty, and worth of his -shepherdess, the tedium of the way was lightened for him and Damon, -and the time passed for them without being perceived, until they came -near to Silerio's hermitage, which Timbrio, Nisida, and Blanca would -not enter, so as not to alarm him by their unexpected arrival. But fate -ordained it otherwise, for Thyrsis and Damon having approached to see -what Silerio was doing, found the hermitage open, and without any one -inside; and whilst they were filled with astonishment, without knowing -where Silerio could be at such an hour, there came to their ears the -sound of his harp, from which they understood that he could not be far -away. And going to look for him, guided by the sound of the harp, they -saw by the bright radiance of the moon, that he was seated on the trunk -of an olive, alone and without other company than that of his harp, -which he was playing so sweetly that to enjoy so gentle a harmony, the -shepherds would not approach to speak to him, and the more so when they -heard him beginning to sing with exquisite voice these verses: - -SILERIO. - Swift fleeting hours of swiftly fleeting time, - That pass me by with wearied flight and slow, - If ye are not conspired unto my woe, - Be pleased to end me now, for 'tis full time. - - If now ye end me, 'twill be at a time - When my misfortunes can no further go; - See, if ye linger, they will lesser grow, - For evil endeth if it bides its time. - - I do not ask that ye should come, with pleasure - And sweetness filled, since ye no path will gain - To the life I have lost to lead me back. - - Hours, to all others blissful beyond measure, - Grant me but the sweet hour of mortal pain, - Even death's hour--this boon alone I lack. - -After the shepherds listened to what Silerio had sung without his -seeing them, they turned to meet the others who were coming there, with -the intent that Timbrio should do what you shall now hear. This was, -that, having told him how they had found Silerio, and in the place -where he was, Thyrsis asked him that, without any of them letting -themselves be recognised by him, they should gradually go approaching -towards him, whether he saw them or not--for though the night was -bright, no one would be recognised on that account--and that he should -likewise make Nisida or himself sing something; and all this he did to -moderate the joy Silerio must needs feel from their arrival. Timbrio -was satisfied with this, and Nisida, being told it, came to be of his -opinion too; and so, when it seemed to Thyrsis that they were now so -near that they could be heard by Silerio, he caused the fair Nisida to -begin; and she, to the sound of the jealous Orfenio's rebeck, began to -sing in this wise: - -NISIDA. - Though my soul is satisfied - With the bliss which is my own, - 'Tis in part racked and undone - By another's bliss denied; - Fortune scant and Love bestow-- - Enemies unto my pleasure-- - On me bliss in niggard measure, - And unmeasured endless woe. - - In the state by Love befriended - Although merit may abound, - Pleasure is as lonely found, - E'en as evil comes attended; - Evils aye in unity - Walk, nor for a moment sever, - Blisses are divided ever - That their end may sooner be. - - What it costeth to attain - Any joy of love so fair, - Let our love and hope declare, - And our patience make it plain; - One bliss untold agony - Costeth, one joy untold sighs-- - Ah! they know it well, my sighs - And my wearied memory. - - Which forever hath in mind - That which power to help it hath - Yet to find it, road or path - Nowhere doth the memory find; - Ah! sweet friend of that fair youth - Who did call thee friend, when he - Claimed the name of friend from thee, - E'en as I am his in truth! - - Our unthought-of happiness - Groweth better when thou'rt near, - Let not thy cruel absence drear - Turn it to unhappiness; - Anguish sore the memory - Rouseth, that reminds me how - I was wise, and foolish thou, - Thou art wise, and foolish I. - - More he lost in losing thee-- - He to whom, fortune thy guide, - Thou didst give me as his bride-- - Than he won in winning me; - Half his soul in thee he had, - Thou wert he, by whom my soul - Could attain the happy goal - That thine absence maketh sad. - -If the exquisite grace with which the fair Nisida was singing, caused -admiration in those who were with her, what would it cause in the -breast of Silerio, who, without missing anything, noted and listened to -all the details of her song? And as he retained Nisida's voice so well -in his soul, its accents scarce began to resound in his ears when he -came to be perturbed, and amazed and to be beside himself, enraptured -by what he heard. And though truly it seemed to him that it was -Nisida's voice, he had so lost the hope of seeing her, and above all in -such a place, that in no way could he make sure of his suspicion. In -this manner all came to where he was; and Thyrsis, greeting him, said -to him: - -'You left us, friend Silerio, so attracted by your disposition and -converse, that Damon and I, drawn by experience of them, and all this -company by their fame, leaving the way we were taking, have come to -seek you in your hermitage, and when we did not find you there, as we -did not, our desire would have remained unfulfilled, had not the sound -of your harp and of your admirable song guided us here.' - -'Far better had it been, sirs,' replied Silerio, 'that you had not -found me, since in me you will find naught save occasions to move you -to sadness, for the sadness I endure in my soul time takes care each -day to renew, not only with the memory of the past happiness, but with -the shadows of the present, which at last will be so indeed, since from -my fortune naught else can be hoped for, save feigned happiness and -certain fear.' - -Silerio's words caused pity in all who knew him, especially in Timbrio, -Nisida, and Blanca, who loved him so much, and they would straightway -have let themselves be known by him had it not been that it would be -deviating from what Thyrsis had bidden them. He made them all sit down -on the green grass, and in such a way that the rays of the bright moon -should strike the faces of Nisida and Blanca from behind, in order that -Silerio might not recognise them. Being then in this fashion, and after -Damon had said some words of consolation to Silerio, in order that the -time should not be spent wholly in discoursing on things of sadness, -and to make a beginning, so that Silerio's sadness might end, he begged -him to play his harp, to the sound of which Damon himself sang this -sonnet: - -DAMON. - If the wild fury of the angry main - Should long time in its ruthlessness endure, - Whoso should to the storm his vessel, poor - And frail, entrust, could little comfort gain. - - Bliss doth not always in one state remain, - Nor woe, but each of them doth fly away, - For if bliss were to flee, and woe to stay, - Ere this the world had been confusion plain. - - Night follows after day, heat after cold, - After the fruit the flower, and thus we find - Opposites reconciling everywhere. - - Meek slavery is changed to lordship bold, - Pain into pleasure, glory into wind, - 'For nature is by such transformings fair.' - -Damon ceased singing, and straightway beckoned to Timbrio to sing -likewise. He, to the sound of Silerio's harp, began a sonnet which he -had composed in the time of his love's fervour, which was as well known -to Silerio as to Timbrio himself. - -TIMBRIO. - My hope is builded on so sure a base - That, though the fiercer blow the ruthless wind, - It cannot shake the bonds that firmly bind, - Such faith, such strength, such fortune it displays. - -Timbrio could not end the sonnet he had begun, for Silerio's hearing of -his voice and recognition of him took place together, and, unable to -do aught else, he arose from where he was seated, and went to embrace -Timbrio's neck with tokens of such strange content and surprise, that -without speaking a word he became faint and was for a while without -consciousness, with such grief on the part of those present, who feared -some mishap, that they already condemned as evil Thyrsis's artifice; -but she who showed the most extremes of grief was the fair Blanca, as -the one who tenderly loved him. Straightway Nisida and her sister came -up to give remedy to the swoon of Silerio, who after a little while -came to himself, saying: - -'Oh, mighty Heaven! is it possible that he I have before me is my true -friend Timbrio? Is it Timbrio I hear, is it Timbrio I see? Yes it is, -if my fortune does not mock me, and my eyes deceive me not.' - -'Neither does your fortune mock you, nor do your eyes deceive you, -my sweet friend,' replied Timbrio, 'for I am he who without you was -not, and he who would never have been, had Heaven not permitted him -to find you. Let your tears now cease, friend Silerio, if for me you -have shed them, since now you have me here, for I will check mine, -since I have you before me, calling myself the happiest of all that -live in the world, since my misfortunes and adversities have been so -discounted that my soul enjoys the possession of Nisida, and my eyes -your presence.' - -By these words of Timbrio's Silerio knew that she who had sung, and she -who was there, was Nisida; but he was more sure of it, when she herself -said to him: - -'What is this, Silerio mine? What solitude and what garb is this, which -gives such tokens of your discontent? What false suspicions or what -deceptions have brought you to such an extreme, in order that Timbrio -and I might endure the extreme of grief all our life, being absent from -you who gave it to us?' - -'They were deceptions, fair Nisida,' replied Silerio, 'but because they -have brought such ways of undeceiving they will be celebrated by my -memory so long as it shall last in me.' - -For the most of this time Blanca had been holding one of Silerio's -hands, gazing intently on his face, shedding some tears, which gave -manifest proof of the joy and pity of her heart. It would be long to -relate the words of love and content that passed between Silerio, -Timbrio, Nisida, and Blanca, which were so tender and of such a kind, -that all the shepherds who heard them had their eyes bathed in tears -of joy. Straightway Silerio related briefly the cause that had moved -him to withdraw to that hermitage, with the thought of ending therein -his life, since of theirs he had not been able to learn any news; -and all that he said was the means of kindling yet more in Timbrio's -breast the love and friendship he had for Silerio, and in Blanca's -friendship for his misery. And so when Silerio finished relating what -had happened to him after he left Naples, he asked Timbrio to do the -same, for he desired it extremely; saying that he should not be afraid -of the shepherds who were present, for all or most of them already knew -his great friendship and part of his adventures. Timbrio was delighted -to do what Silerio asked, and the shepherds, who likewise desired it, -were more delighted; for seeing that Thyrsis had told it to them, all -knew already the love-affair of Timbrio and Nisida, and all that which -Thyrsis himself had heard from Silerio. All then being seated, as I -have already said, on the green grass, they were awaiting with wondrous -attention what Timbrio would say, and he said: - -'After fortune was so favourable to me and so adverse, that it allowed -me to conquer my enemy and conquered me by the consternation of the -false news of Nisida's death, with such sorrow as can be imagined, at -that very moment I left for Naples, and Nisida's unlucky fate being -confirmed there, so as not to see her father's house, where I had seen -her, and in order that the streets, windows, and other spots where I -was wont to see her, might not continually renew in me the memory of -my past happiness, without knowing what way to take, without my will -following any course, I went from the city, and in two days came to -strong Gaeta, where I found a ship which was just on the point of -unfurling its sails to the wind to leave for Spain; I embarked on it, -only to flee from the hateful land where I was leaving my heaven. -But scarcely had the busy sailors weighed anchor and spread their -sails, and put out some distance to sea, when there arose a sudden and -unthought-of tempest, and a squall of wind smote the ship's sails with -such fury that it broke the foremast and split the mizzen sail from -top to bottom. Straightway the ready sailors came to the rescue and -with the greatest difficulty furled all the sails, for the tempest was -increasing, and the sea was beginning to rise, and the sky was giving -signs of a long and fearful storm. It was not possible to return to -port, for the wind which blew was the mistral, and with such great -violence that it was necessary to set the foresail on the mainmast, -and to ease her, as they say, by the stern, letting her drive where -the wind might will. And so the ship, driven by its fury, began to -run with such speed over the stormy sea, that in the two days the -mistral lasted, we ran by all the islands in that course, without being -able to take shelter in any, passing always in sight of them, without -Stromboli sheltering us, or Lipari receiving us, or Cimbalo, Lampadosa, -or Pantanalea serving for our aid; and we passed so near to Barbary -that the recently destroyed walls of the Goleta were revealed and the -ancient ruins of Carthage showed themselves. Not small was the alarm of -those on board the ship, who feared that if the wind became somewhat -stronger, they must needs be driven on a hostile coast; but when they -were most in fear of this, fate, which was keeping a better one in -store for us, or Heaven which heard the vows and promises made there, -ordained that the mistral should be changed into a south wind which -was so strong--and which touched on the quarter of the sirocco,--that -in another two days it brought us back to the very port of Gaeta from -which we had started, with such relief to all that some set out to -fulfil the pilgrimages and promises they had made in the past danger. -The ship remained there, being refitted with some things she required, -for another four days, at the end of which she resumed her voyage in a -calmer sea and with a favourable wind, keeping in sight the fair coast -of Genoa, full of gay gardens, white houses, and gleaming pinnacles, -which, being struck by the sun's rays, flash with such burning rays -that they can scarcely be looked at. All these things which were being -seen from the ship, might have caused content, as indeed they did to -all those who were on board the ship, except to me, for to me they were -the cause of greater sorrow. The only relief I had was to occupy myself -in lamenting my woes, singing them, or, let me say rather, bewailing -them to the sound of a lute belonging to one of the sailors; and one -night I remember--and indeed it is well that I should remember, since -then my day began to dawn,--that, the sea being calm, the winds still, -the sails fixed to the mast, and the sailors without any care lying -stretched in different parts of the ship, and the helmsman almost -asleep by reason of the fair weather there was, and that which the sky -promised, in the midst of this silence and in the midst of my fancies, -as my griefs did not suffer me to yield my eyes to sleep, seated on the -poop, I took the lute, and began to sing some verses, which I must now -repeat, in order that it may be noted from what extreme of sadness, and -how without thinking it, fate led me to the greatest extreme of joy -imaginable; this, if I remember right, was what I sang: - -TIMBRIO. - - Now that silent is the wind - And the peaceful sea at rest, - Let my pain no silence find, - For my grieving from my breast - Issue soul with voice conjoined; - To recount wherefore I grieve, - Showing that my grief in part - Comes perforce, the soul must give - Tokens, and likewise the heart, - Of the deadly pangs that live. - - Once Love bore me off in flight - Through the ranks of bitter woe, - Raising me to Heaven's height: - Death and Love to earth below - Now have hurled this hapless wight; - Love and death it was ordained - Such a love and death as this, - O'er sweet Nisida they reigned, - From her woe and from my bliss - Fame unending they attained. - - With new voice, more terrible - Henceforth, and with awesome sound, - Fame will make it credible - That Love is a champion found - And death is invincible; - Satisfied the world will be - At their might, whene'er it knows - How the twain have wrought in me: - Death her glorious life did close, - Love my bosom holds in fee. - - But I think, since I am brought - Nor to madness nor to death - By the anguish they have wrought, - That death little power hath, - Or that feeling I have not; - For if I but feeling had, - So the increasing anguish strives - Everywhere to drive me mad, - Though I had a thousand lives, - Countless times had I been dead. - - My surpassing victory - By the death was famous made - Of the life, which needs must be - Chief of all the past displayed - Or the present age can see; - Therefrom I achieved as prize - Grief within my loving heart, - Countless tears within my eyes, - In my soul confusion's smart, - In my true breast agonies. - - Cruel hand of him my foe, - Hadst thou but my doom fulfilled, - I had held thee friend, for, lo! - In the slaying thou hadst stilled - All the anguish of my woe! - What a bitter reckoning - Victory brought, for I shall pay-- - And I feel it as I sing-- - For the pleasure of a day - With an age-long suffering! - - Sea, that hearkenest to my cry, - Heaven, that didst my woe ordain, - Love, that causest me to sigh, - Death, that hast my glory ta'en, - End ye now my agony! - Sea, my lifeless corse receive, - Heaven, to my soul grant thy calm, - Love, to fame the tidings give, - That death carried off the palm - From this life that doth not live! - - Heaven, Love, and death and sea, - Now to aid me linger not, - Make an end of ending me, - For 'twill be the happiest lot - Ye can give and I foresee! - If sea doth not drowning give, - And Heaven welcome doth deny, - If Love must for ever live, - And I fear I shall not die, - Where can I repose receive? - -'I remember that I came to these last verses I have repeated, when, -without being able to proceed further, interrupted by countless sighs -and sobs which I sent forth from my hapless breast, afflicted by the -memory of my misfortunes, from merely feeling them I came to lose my -senses by such a paroxysm that for a good while it held me unconscious; -but after the bitter attack had passed, I opened my wearied eyes and -found my head lying in the lap of a woman, dressed in pilgrim's attire, -and at my side was another, decked in the same garb, who was holding my -hands whilst both wept tenderly. When I saw myself in that position, -I was amazed and confused, and was doubting whether it was a vision -I saw, for never had I seen such women in the ship since I had gone -on board. But the fair Nisida here--for she was the pilgrim who was -there--drew me from this confusion, saying to me: "Ah, Timbrio, my -true lord and friend, what false fancies or what luckless accidents -have caused you to be placed where you now are, and my sister and me -to take such little account of what we owed to our honour, and without -heeding any difficulty to have wished to leave our beloved parents -and our wonted garb, with the intention of looking for you and of -undeceiving you about my so doubtful death which might have caused -yours in reality?" When I heard such words, I became quite convinced -that I was dreaming, and that it was some vision I had before my eyes, -and that my ceaseless thoughts that did not depart from Nisida were -the cause that represented her there to my eyes alive. A thousand -questions I asked them and in all they completely satisfied me, before -I could calm my understanding and assure myself that they were Nisida -and Blanca. But when I came to learn the truth, the joy I felt was such -that it, too, well-nigh brought me to the pass of losing my life as -the past grief had done. Then I learned from Nisida how your mistake -and neglect, oh Silerio, in making the signal of the kerchief, was the -cause why she, believing that some ill had befallen me, fell into such -a swoon and faint, that all believed her to be dead, as I thought, and -you, Silerio, believed. She also told me how, after coming to herself, -she learned the truth of my victory together with my sudden and hasty -departure, and your absence, the news of which brought her to the verge -of making true that of her death; but as it did not bring her to the -last extreme, it caused her and her sister, by the artifice of a nurse -of theirs who came with them, to dress themselves in the attire of -pilgrims, and in disguise to go away from their parents one night when -they were approaching Gaeta on the return they were making to Naples. -And it was at the time when the ship on which I had embarked, having -been repaired after the storm which had passed, was on the point of -departing; and telling the captain they wished to cross over to Spain -to go to Santiago of Galicia, they agreed with him and embarked with -the intention of coming to seek me at Xeres, where they thought to -find me or to learn some news of me; and all the time they had been in -the ship, which would be four days, they had not left a cabin which -the captain had given them in the stern, until, hearing me sing the -verses I have repeated to you, and recognising me by the voice, and -by what I said in them, they came out at the moment I have told you, -when, celebrating with joyous tears the happiness of having found one -another, we were looking at one another, without knowing with what -words to increase our new and unexpected joy, which would have grown -the greater, and would have reached the point and pass it has now -reached, if we had then known any news of you, friend Silerio. But, as -there is no pleasure which comes so perfect as wholly to satisfy the -heart, in that we then felt, there was wanting to us, not only your -presence, but even news of it. The brightness of the night, the cool -and pleasing wind (which favouring and gentle at that moment began -to strike the sails), the calm sea and the cloudless sky, it seems, -all together, and each by itself, helped to celebrate the joy of our -hearts. But fickle fortune, from whose disposition one can make sure -of no stability, envious of our happiness, chose to disturb it by -the greatest mishap that could have been imagined, had not time and -favouring circumstances turned it to a better issue. It happened then -that at the time the wind began to freshen, the busy sailors hoisted -all the sails higher and assured themselves of a safe and prosperous -voyage to the general joy of all. One of them, who was seated on one -side of the bow, discovered by the brightness of the moon's low rays, -that four rowing vessels with long-drawn-out stroke were approaching -the ship with great speed and haste, and at the moment he knew that -they were an enemy's, and with loud cries began to shout: "To arms, -to arms, for Turkish vessels are in sight!" This cry and sudden alarm -caused such panic in all the crew of the ship, that, without being -able to take thought for the approaching danger, they looked at one -another; but its captain (who had sometimes seen himself in similar -circumstances), coming to the bow, sought to learn how large the -vessels were and how many, and he discovered two more than the sailor, -and recognised that they were galliots with slave crews, whereat he -must needs have felt no small fear. But, dissembling as best he could, -he straightway ordered the guns to be prepared and the sails to be -trimmed as much as possible to meet the opposing vessels so as to -see if he could go between them and let the guns play on every side. -Straightway all rushed to arms, and, dispersed at their posts, as -well as could be, awaited the coming of the enemy. Who will be able -to express to you, sirs, the pain I felt at this moment, seeing my -happiness disturbed with such quickness, and myself so near the chance -of losing it, and the more when I saw Nisida and Blanca looking at each -other without speaking a word, confused by the uproar and shouting -there was in the ship, and seeing myself asking them to shut themselves -up in their cabin and pray to God to deliver us from the enemy's hands? -This was a situation which makes the imagination faint when the memory -recalls it; their open tears, and the violence I did myself so as not -to show mine, held me in such a way that I had almost forgotten what -I ought to do, who I was, and what the danger required. But at last I -made them withdraw almost fainting to their cabin, and shutting them in -from outside, hastened to see what the captain was ordering. He with -prudent care was providing everything necessary for the emergency, and -entrusting to Darinto, the gentleman who left us to-day, the guard -of the forecastle, and handing over to me the poop, he with some -sailors and passengers hurried through all the waist of the ship from -one part to another. The enemy did not delay much in approaching, and -the wind delayed rather less in growing calm, which was the complete -cause of our ruin. The enemy did not dare to board, for, seeing that -the weather was growing calm, it seemed to them better to wait for the -day in order to attack us. They did so, and, when the day came, though -we had already counted them, we saw finally that it was fifteen big -vessels that had surrounded us, and then the fear of being lost was -at once confirmed in our breasts. Nevertheless, the valiant captain, -not losing heart--nor did any of those who were with him,--waited to -see what the enemy would do. They, as soon as morning came, lowered a -boat from their flagship, and sent by a renegade to tell our captain -to surrender, since he saw he could not defend himself against so -many vessels, and the more so that they were all the best in Algiers, -threatening him on behalf of Arnaut Mami, his general, that if the ship -discharged a single piece, he would hang him from a yard-arm when he -caught him, and the renegade, adding to these other threats, urged him -to surrender. But the captain, not wishing to do so, told the renegade -in reply to sheer off from the ship or he would send him to the bottom -with the guns. Arnaut heard this reply, and straightway priming the -guns of his ship everywhere, began to play them from a distance with -such speed, fury, and din, that it was a marvel. Our ship began to do -the same with such good fortune that she sent to the bottom one of the -vessels that were attacking her at the stern, for she hit her with a -ball close to the harpings, in such a manner that the sea swallowed -her without receiving any succour. The Turks, seeing this, hurried on -the fight, and in four hours attacked us four times and as many times -retired with great loss on their part, and no small loss on ours. But, -not to weary you by relating to you in detail the things that happened -in this fight, I will only say that after we had fought sixteen -hours, and after our captain and nearly all the crew of the ship had -perished, at the end of nine assaults they made upon us, at the last -they furiously boarded the ship. Though I should wish, yet I cannot -exaggerate the grief that came to my soul when I saw that my beloved -darlings whom now I have before me, must needs then be handed over to, -and come into the power of those cruel butchers; and so, carried away -by the wrath this fear and thought caused in me, I rushed with unarmed -breast through the midst of the barbarous swords, desirous of dying -from the cruelty of their edge, rather than to see with my eyes what I -expected. But things came to pass differently from what I had feared, -for, three stalwart Turks grappling with me, and I struggling with -them, we all fell up confusedly against the door of the cabin where -Nisida and Blanca were, and with the force of the blow the door was -broken open, displaying the treasure that was there enclosed. The enemy -lusting after it, one of them seized Nisida and the other Blanca; and -I, seeing myself free from the two made the other who held me leave his -life at my feet, and I thought to do the same with the two, had they -not, warned of the danger, given up their hold of the two ladies and -stretched me on the floor with two great wounds. Nisida, seeing this, -threw herself upon my wounded body and with lamentable cries begged the -two Turks to finish her. At this moment, drawn by the cries and laments -of Nisida and Blanca, Arnaut, the general of the vessels, hurried up -to the cabin, and, learning from the soldiers what was going on, had -Nisida and Blanca carried to his galley, and at Nisida's prayer also -gave orders for them to carry me thither, since I was not yet dead. -In this manner, without my being conscious, they carried me to the -enemy's flagship, where I was straightway tended with some diligence, -for Nisida had told the captain that I was a man of rank and of great -ransom, with the intention that, tempted by the bait of covetousness -and of the money they might get from me, they should look after my -health with somewhat more care. It happened then, that, as my wounds -were being tended, I returned to consciousness with the pain of them, -and turning my eyes in every direction, I knew I was in the power of my -enemies, and in the enemy's vessel; but nothing touched my soul so much -as to see at the stern of the galley Nisida and Blanca sitting at the -feet of the dog of a general, shedding from their eyes countless tears, -the tokens of the inward grief they were suffering. Neither the fear -of the shameful death I was awaiting when you, good friend Silerio, -in Catalonia freed me from it; neither the false tidings of Nisida's -death, believed by me as true; neither the pain of my deadly wounds, -nor any other affliction I might imagine, caused me, nor will cause -more anguish than that which came to me at seeing Nisida and Blanca in -the power of that barbarous unbeliever, where their honour was placed -in such imminent and manifest peril. The pain of this anguish worked -so much upon my soul that I once again lost my senses, and took away -the hope of my health and life from the surgeon who was tending me, in -such a manner that believing I was dead, he stopped in the midst of his -tending of me, assuring all that I had already passed from this life. -When this news was heard by the two hapless sisters, let them say what -they felt, if they make so bold, for I can only say that I afterwards -learned that the two, rising from where they were, tearing their ruddy -locks, and scratching their fair faces, without anyone being able to -hold them back, came to where I lay in a faint, and there began to make -so piteous a lament, that they moved to compassion the very breasts of -the cruel barbarians. By reason of Nisida's tears which were falling on -my face, or through the wounds already cold and swollen which caused -me great pain, I returned again to consciousness, to be conscious of my -new misfortune. I will pass in silence now the piteous and loving words -that in that hapless moment passed between Nisida and myself, so as not -to sadden so much the joyous moment in which we now find ourselves, -nor do I wish to relate in detail the dire straits she told me she had -passed through with the captain. He, overcome by her beauty, made her -a thousand promises, a thousand gifts, a thousand threats, that she -might come to submit to his lawless will; but showing herself towards -him as scornful as modest, and as modest as scornful, she was able all -that day and the following night to defend herself from the hateful -importunities of the corsair. But as Nisida's continued presence went -on increasing in him every moment his lustful desire, without any doubt -it might have been feared, as I did fear, that by his abandoning his -prayers and using violence, Nisida might lose her honour or life, the -latter being the likelier to be expected from her virtue. But fortune, -being now weary of having placed us in the lowest stage of misery, -chose to show us that what is published abroad of her instability is -true, by a means which brought us to the pass of praying Heaven to keep -us in that hapless lot, instead of losing our lives on the swollen -billows of the angry sea: which after two days that we were captives, -and at the time we were taking the direct course to Barbary, moved by a -furious sirocco, began to rise mountains high, and to lash the pirate -fleet with such fury, that the wearied oarsmen, without being able to -avail themselves of the oars, bridled them and had recourse to the -wonted remedy of the foresail on the mast, and of letting themselves -run wherever the wind and sea listed. And the tempest increased in such -a manner that in less than half an hour it scattered and dispersed the -vessels in different directions, without any of them being able to -give heed to following their captain, but rather in a little while, -all being separated as I have said, our vessel came to be left alone, -and to be the one that danger threatened most; for she began to make -so much water through her seams, that however much they bailed her in -all the cabins at the stern, bow, and mizzen, the water in the bilge -all the time reached the knee. And to all this misfortune was added -the approach of night, which in such cases, more than in any others, -increases dread fear; and it came with such darkness and renewed -tempestuousness, that we all wholly despaired of help. Seek not to -learn more, sirs, save that the very Turks begged the Christians, who -were captives at the oar, to invoke and call on their saints and their -Christ, to deliver them from such misfortune, and the prayers of the -wretched Christians who were there were not so much in vain that high -Heaven moved by them let the wind grow calm, nay rather it increased -it with such force and fury, that at break of day, which could only -be told by the hours of the sand-glass by which they are measured, -the ill-steered vessel found herself off the coast of Catalonia, so -near land, and so unable to get away from it, that it was necessary to -hoist the sail a little higher, in order that she might drive with more -force upon a wide beach which offered itself to us in front; for the -love of life made the slavery the Turks expected appear sweet to them. -Scarcely had the galley driven ashore, when straightway there hurried -down to the beach a number of people armed, whose dress and speech -showed them to be Catalans, and the coast to be Catalonia, and even -the very spot where at the risk of yours, friend Silerio, you saved my -life. Who could exaggerate now the joy of the Christians, who saw their -necks free and relieved from the unbearable and heavy yoke of bitter -captivity; and the prayers and entreaties the Turks, free a little -while before, made to their own slaves, begging them to see that they -were not ill-treated by the angry Christians, who were already awaiting -them on the beach, with the desire of avenging the wrong these very -Turks had done them, in sacking their town, as you, Silerio, know? And -the fear they had did not turn out vain for them, for the people of the -place, entering the galley which lay stranded on the sand, wrought such -cruel havoc on the corsairs that very few were left with life; and had -it not been that the greedy desire of sacking the galley blinded them, -all the Turks had been killed in this first onslaught. Finally the -Turks who remained, and we captive Christians who came there, were all -plundered; and if the clothes I wore had not been stained with blood, -I believe they would not have left me even them. Darinto who was also -there, helped straightway to look after Nisida and Blanca, and to see -that I might be taken ashore to be tended there. When I came out and -recognised the place where I was, and considered the danger in which I -had seen myself there, it did not fail to give me some anxiety, caused -by the fear of being known and punished for what I ought not to be; and -so I begged Darinto to arrange for us to go to Barcelona without making -any delay, telling him the cause that moved me to it. But it was not -possible, for my wounds distressed me in such a way that they forced me -to be there for some days, as I was, without being visited save by a -surgeon. In the meantime Darinto went to Barcelona, whence he returned, -providing himself with what we needed; and, as he found me better and -stronger, we straightway took the road for the city of Toledo, to -learn of Nisida's kinsmen if they knew of her parents, to whom we have -already written all the late events of our lives, asking forgiveness -for our past errors. And all the happiness and grief from these good -and evil events has been increased and diminished by your absence, -Silerio. But since Heaven has now, with such great blessings, given a -remedy to our calamities, there remains naught else save that you, -friend Silerio, should render it fitting thanks therefor, and banish -the past sadness by reason of the present joy, and endeavour to give -it to one who for many days has for your sake lived without it, as you -shall learn when we are more alone, and I acquaint you therewith. There -remain some other things for me to tell, which have happened to me in -the course of this my journey; but I must leave them for the nonce, so -as not, by reason of their tediousness, to displease these shepherds, -who have been the instrument of all my delight and pleasure. This, -then, friend Silerio and shepherd friends, is the issue of my life. -Mark if, from the life I have gone through and from that I go through -now, I can call myself the most ill-starred and the happiest man of -those that are living to-day.' - -With these last words the joyful Timbrio ended his tale, and all those -that were present rejoiced at the happy issue his toils had had, -Silerio's content passing beyond all that can be said. He, turning -anew to embrace Timbrio, and constrained by the desire to learn who -the person was that for his sake lived without content, begged leave -of the shepherds, and went apart with Timbrio on one side, where he -learned from him that the fair Blanca, Nisida's sister, was the one who -loved him more than herself, from the very day and moment she learned -who he was and the worth of his character, and that, so as not to go -against what she owed to her honour, she had never wished to reveal -this thought except to her sister, by whose agency she hoped to have -honoured him in the fulfilment of her desires. Timbrio likewise told -him how the gentleman Darinto, who came with him and of whom he had -made mention in his late discourse, knowing who Blanca was, and carried -away by her beauty, had fallen in love with her so earnestly that he -asked her from her sister Nisida as his wife, and she undeceived him -saying that Blanca would by no means consent; and that Darinto being -angry thereat, believing that they rejected him for his little worth, -Nisida, in order to free him from this suspicion, had to tell him how -Blanca had her thoughts busied with Silerio; but that Darinto had not -turned faint-hearted on this account, nor abandoned his purpose--'for -as he knew that no news was known of you, Silerio, he fancied that the -services he thought to render to Blanca, and the lapse of time, would -make her desist from her first intention. And with this motive he would -never leave us, until hearing yesterday from the shepherds sure tidings -of your life, knowing the happiness that Blanca had felt thereat, and -considering it to be impossible that Darinto could gain what he desired -when Silerio appeared, he went away from all, without taking leave of -anyone, with tokens of the greatest grief.' - -Together with this Timbrio counselled his friend to be content that -Blanca was to have him, choosing her and accepting her as wife, since -he already knew her and was not ignorant of her worth and modesty; and -he dwelt on the joy and pleasure they both would have seeing themselves -wedded to two such sisters. Silerio asked him in reply to give him -time to think about this action, though he knew that in the end it was -impossible not to do what he bade him. At this moment the white dawn -was already beginning to give tokens of its new approach, and the stars -were gradually hiding their brightness; and at this point there came to -the ears of all the voice of the love-sick Lauso, who, as his friend -Damon had known that they must needs spend that night in Silerio's -hermitage, wished to be with him, and with the other shepherds. And as -it was all his pleasure and pastime to sing to the sound of his rebeck -the prosperous or adverse issue of his love, carried away by his mood, -and invited by the solitude of the road and by the delicious harmony -of the birds, who were already beginning to greet the coming day with -their sweet concerted song, he came singing in a low voice verses such -as these: - -LAUSO. - I lift my gaze unto the noblest part - That can be fancied by the loving thought, - Where I behold the worth, admire the art - That hath the loftiest mind to rapture brought; - But if ye fain would learn what was the part - That my free neck within its fierce yoke caught, - That made me captive, claims me as its prize, - Mine eyes it is, Silena, and thine eyes. - - Thine eyes it is, from whose clear light I gain - The light that unto Heaven guideth me, - Of the celestial light a token plain, - Light that abhorreth all obscurity; - It makes the fire, the yoke, and e'en the chain, - That burns me, burdens, and afflicts, to be - Relief and comfort to the soul, a Heaven - Unto the life the soul hath to thee given. - - Oh eyes divine! my soul's joy and delight, - The end and mark to which my wishes go, - Eyes, that, if I see aught, have given me sight, - Eyes that have made the murky day to glow; - My anguish and my gladness in your light - Love set; in you I contemplate and know - The bitter, sweet, and yet the truthful story - Of certain hell, of my uncertain glory. - - In darkness blind I walked, when I no more - Was guided by your light, oh eyes so fair! - No more I saw the heavens, but wandered o'er - The world, 'midst thorns and brambles everywhere; - But at the very moment when the power - Of your bright clustered rays my soul laid bare, - And touched it to the quick, I saw quite plain - The path that leads to bliss, open and plain. - - Ye, ye, it is, and shall be, cloudless eyes, - That do and can uplift me thus to claim - Amongst the little number of the wise, - As best I can, a high renownèd name; - This ye can do, if ye my enemies - Remain no longer, nor account it shame - Sometimes a glance to cast me, for in this-- - Glancing and glances--lies a lover's bliss. - - If this be true, Silena, none hath been, - Nor is, nor will be, who with constancy - Can or will love thee, as I love my queen, - However Love his aid, and fortune, be; - I have deserved this glory--to be seen - By thee--for my unbroken loyalty. - 'Tis folly, though, to think that one can win - That which one scarce can contemplate therein. - -The love-sick Lauso ended his song and his journey at the same moment, -and he was lovingly received by all who were with Silerio, increasing -by his presence the joy all had by reason of the fair issue Silerio's -troubles had had; and, as Damon was telling them to him, there appeared -close to the hermitage the venerable Aurelio, who, with some of his -shepherds, was bringing some dainties wherewith to regale and satisfy -those who were there, as he had promised the day before he left them. -Thyrsis and Damon were astonished to see him come without Elicio and -Erastro, and they were more so when they came to know the cause why -they had stayed behind. Aurelio approached, and his approach would have -increased the more the happiness of all, if he had not said, directing -his words to Timbrio: - -'If you prize yourself, as it is right you should prize yourself, -valiant Timbrio, as being a true friend of him who is yours, now -is the time to show it, by hurrying to tend Darinto, who, no great -distance from here, is so sad and afflicted and so far from accepting -any consolation in the grief he suffers that some words of consolation -I gave him did not suffice for him to take them as such. Elicio, -Erastro, and I found him, some two hours ago in the midst of yonder -mountain which reveals itself on this our right hand, his horse tied -by the reins to a pine tree, and himself stretched on the ground face -downwards, uttering tender and mournful sighs, and from time to time -he spoke some words which were directed to curse his fortune. And at -the piteous sound of them we approached him, and by the moon's rays, -though with difficulty, he was recognised by us and pressed to tell -us the cause of his woe. He told it to us, and thereby we learned the -little remedy he had. Nevertheless Elicio and Erastro have remained -with him, and I have come to give you the news of the plight in which -his thoughts hold him; and since they are so manifest to you, seek to -remedy them with deeds, or hasten to console them with words.' - -'Words, good Aurelio,' replied Timbrio, 'will be all I shall spend -thereon, if indeed he is not willing to avail himself of the occasion -to undeceive himself and to dispose his desires so that time and -absence may work in him their wonted effects; but, that he may not -think that I do not respond to what I owe to his friendship, tell me, -Aurelio, where you left him, for I wish to go at once to see him.' - -'I will go with you,' replied Aurelio, and straightway at the moment -all the shepherds arose to accompany Timbrio and to learn the cause -of Darinto's woe, leaving Silerio with Nisida and Blanca to the -happiness of the three, which was so great that they did not succeed -in uttering a word. On the way from there to where Aurelio had left -Darinto, Timbrio told those who went with him the cause of Darinto's -sorrow, and the little remedy that might be hoped for it, since the -fair Blanca, for whom he was sorrowing, had her thoughts set on her -good friend Silerio, saying to them likewise that he must needs strive -with all his skill and powers that Silerio might grant what Blanca -desired, and begging them all to help and favour his purpose, for, -on leaving Darinto, he wished them all to ask Silerio to consent to -receive Blanca as his lawful wife. The shepherds offered to do what -he bade them; and during these discourses they came to where Aurelio -believed Elicio, Darinto, and Erastro would be; but they did not find -anyone, though they skirted and covered a great part of a small wood -which was there, whereat they felt no little sorrow. But, while in it, -they heard a sigh so mournful that it set them in confusion and in the -desire to learn who had uttered it; but they were quickly drawn from -this doubt by another which they heard no less sad than the former, -and all hurrying to the spot whence the sigh came, saw not far from -them at the foot of a tall walnut tree two shepherds, one seated on the -green grass, and the other stretched on the ground, his head placed -on the other's knees. The one seated had his head bent down, shedding -tears and gazing intently on him whom he had on his knees, and, for -this reason, as also because the other had lost his colour and was of -pallid countenance, they were not able at once to know who he was; but -when they came nearer, they knew at once that the shepherds were Elicio -and Erastro, Elicio the pallid one, and Erastro the one that wept. -The sad appearance of the two hapless shepherds caused great wonder -and sadness in all who came there, because they were great friends -of theirs, and because they did not know the cause that held them in -such wise; but he that wondered most was Aurelio, because he said that -he had left them so recently in Darinto's company with tokens of all -pleasure and happiness, so that apparently he had not been the cause of -all their misery. Erastro then seeing that the shepherds were coming to -him, shook Elicio, saying to him: - -'Come to yourself, hapless shepherd, arise, and seek a spot where you -can by yourself bewail your misfortune, for I think to do the same -until life ends.' - -And saying this he took in his two hands Elicio's head and, putting it -off his knees, set it on the ground, without the shepherd being able -to return to consciousness; and Erastro, rising, was turning his back -to go away, had not Thyrsis and Damon and the other shepherds, kept -him from it. Damon went to where Elicio was, and taking him in his -arms, made him come to himself. Elicio opened his eyes, and, because -he knew all who were there, he took care that his tongue, moved and -constrained by grief, should not say anything that might declare the -cause of it: and, though this was asked of him by all the shepherds, -he never gave any answer save that he knew naught of himself but that, -as he was speaking with Erastro, a severe fainting fit had seized him. -Erastro said the same, and for this reason the shepherds ceased to ask -him further the reason of his affliction, but rather they asked him -to return with them to Silerio's hermitage and to let them take him -thence to the village or to his hut: but it was not possible for them -to prevail with him in this beyond letting him return to the village. -Seeing then that this was his desire, they did not wish to oppose it, -but rather offered to go with him, but he wished no one's company, -nor would he have accepted it, had not his friend Damon's persistence -overcome him, and so he had to depart with him, Damon having agreed -with Thyrsis to see each other that night in the village or Elicio's -hut, in order to arrange to return to theirs. Aurelio and Timbrio asked -Erastro for Darinto, and he told them in reply that as soon as Aurelio -had left them the fainting fit had seized Elicio, and whilst he was -tending to him, Darinto had departed with all haste, and they had seen -him no more. Timbrio and those who came with him, seeing then that they -did not find Darinto, determined to return to the hermitage and beg -Silerio to accept the fair Blanca as his wife; and with this intention -they all returned except Erastro, who wished to follow his friend -Elicio; and so, taking leave of them, accompanied only by his rebeck, -he went away by the same road Elicio had gone. The latter, having gone -some distance away with his friend Damon from the rest of the company, -with tears in his eyes, and with tokens of the greatest sadness, began -to speak to him thus: - -'I know well, discreet Damon, that you have so much experience of -love's effects that you will not wonder at what I now think to tell -you, for they are such that in the reckoning of my judgment I count -them and hold them among the most disastrous that are found in love.' - -Damon who desired nothing else than to learn the cause of his fainting -and sadness, assured him that nothing would be new to him, if it -touched on the evils love is wont to cause. And so Elicio with this -assurance and with the assurance yet greater he had of his friendship, -went on, saying: - -'You already know, friend Damon, how my good fortune, for I will always -give it this name of good, though it cost me life to have had it--I -say then, that my good fortune willed, as all Heaven and all these -banks know, that I should love--do I say love?--adore the peerless -Galatea with a love as pure and true as befits her deserving. At the -same time I confess to you, friend, that in all the time she has -known my just desire, she has not responded to it with other tokens -save those general ones which a chaste and grateful breast is wont -and ought to give. And so for some years, my hope being sustained by -intercourse both honourable and loving, I have lived so joyous and -satisfied with my thoughts, that I judged myself the happiest shepherd -that ever pastured flock, contenting myself merely with looking at -Galatea and with seeing that if she did not love me, she did not loathe -me, and that no other shepherd could boast that he was even looked at -by her, for it was no small satisfaction of my desire to have set my -thoughts on an object so secure that I had no fear of anyone else, -being confirmed in this truth by the opinion which Galatea's worth -inspires in me, which is such that it gives no opportunity for boldness -itself to make bold with it. Against this good, which love gave me -at so little a cost, against this glory enjoyed so much without harm -to Galatea, against the pleasure so justly deserved by my desire, -irrevocable sentence has to-day been passed, that the good should end, -the glory finish, the pleasure be changed, and that finally the tragedy -of my mournful life should be closed. For you must know, Damon, that -this morning, as I came with Aurelio, Galatea's father, to seek you -at Sileno's hermitage, he told me on the way how he had arranged to -marry Galatea to a Lusitanian shepherd who pastures numerous herds on -the banks of the gentle Lima. He asked me to tell him what I thought -because, from the friendship he had for me, and from my understanding, -he hoped to be well counselled. What I said to him in reply was that -it seemed to me a hard thing to be able to bring his will to deprive -itself of the sight of so fair a daughter, banishing her to such -distant regions, and that if he did so, carried away and tempted by -the bait of the strange shepherd's wealth, he should consider that he -did not lack it so much that he was not able to live in his village -better than all in it who claimed to be rich, and that none of the -best of those who dwell on the banks of the Tagus, would fail to count -himself fortunate when he should win Galatea to wife. My words were -not ill received by the venerable Aurelio, but at last he made up his -mind, saying that the chief herdsman of all the flocks bade him do -it,[116] and he it was who had arranged and settled it, and that it -was impossible to withdraw. I asked him with what countenance Galatea -had received the news of her banishment. He told me that she had -conformed to his will and was disposing hers to do all he wished, like -an obedient daughter. This I learned from Aurelio, and this, Damon, is -the cause of my fainting, and will be that of my death, since at seeing -Galatea in a stranger's power and a stranger to my sight, naught else -can be hoped for save the end of my days.' - -The love-sick Elicio ended his words and his tears began, shed in such -abundance that the breast of his friend Damon, moved to compassion, -could not but accompany him in them. But after a little while he began -with the best reasons he could to console Elicio, but all his words -stopped at being words without producing any effect. Nevertheless -they agreed that Elicio should speak to Galatea and learn from her if -she consented of her will to the marriage her father was arranging -for her, and that, should it not be to her liking, an offer should be -made to her to free her from that constraint, since help would not -fail her in it. What Damon was saying seemed good to Elicio, and he -determined to go to look for Galatea to declare to her his wish, and -to learn the wish she held enclosed in her breast; and so, changing -the road they were taking to his cabin, they journeyed towards the -village, and coming to a crossway hard by where four roads divided, -they saw some eight gallant shepherds approaching by one of them, all -with javelins in their hands, except one of them who came mounted on -a handsome mare, clad in a violet cloak, and the rest on foot, all -having their faces muffled with kerchiefs. Damon and Elicio stopped -till the shepherds should pass, and these passing close to them, bowed -their heads and courteously saluted them, without any of them saying a -word. The two were amazed to see the strange appearance of the eight, -and stood still to see what road they were following; but straightway -they saw they were taking the road to the village, although a different -one to that by which they were going. Damon told Elicio to follow them, -but he would not, saying that on that way which he wished to follow, -near a spring which was not far from it, Galatea was ofttime wont to -be with some shepherdesses of the village, and that it would be well -to see if fortune showed herself so kind to them that they might find -her there. Damon was satisfied with what Elicio wished, and so he told -him to lead wherever he chose. And his lot chanced as he himself had -imagined, for they had not gone far when there came to their ears the -pipe of Florisa, accompanied by the fair Galatea's voice, and when this -was heard by the shepherds, they were beside themselves. Then Damon -knew at last how true they spoke who celebrated the graces of Galatea, -who was in the company of Rosaura and Florisa and of the fair Silveria -newly wed, with two other shepherdesses of the same village. And though -Galatea saw the shepherds coming, she would not for that reason abandon -the song she had begun, but rather seemed to give tokens that she felt -pleasure at the shepherds listening to her, and they did so with all -the attention possible; and what they succeeded in hearing of what the -shepherdess was singing, was the following: - - GALATEA. - Whither shall I turn mine eyes - In the woe that is at hand, - If my troubles nearer stand, - As my bliss the further flies? - I am doomed to grievous pain - By the grief that bids me roam: - If it slays me when at home, - When abroad what shall I gain? - - Just obedience, hard to bear! - For I have the 'yes' to say - In obedience, which some day - My death-sentence shall declare; - I am set such ills among, - That as happiness 'twould be - Counted, if life were to me - Wanting, or at least a tongue. - - Brief the hours, ah! brief and weary - Have the hours been of my gladness - Everlasting those of sadness, - Full of dread and ever dreary; - In my happy girlhood's hour - I enjoyed my liberty, - But, alas! now slavery - O'er my will asserts its power. - - Lo! the battle cruel doth prove, - Which they wage against my thought, - If, when they have fiercely fought, - I love not, yet needs must love; - Oh displeasing power of place! - For, in reverence of the old - I my hands must meekly fold - And my tender neck abase. - - What! have I farewell to say, - See no more the golden river, - Leave behind my flock for ever, - And in sadness go away? - Shall these trees of leafy shade, - Shall these meadows broad and green - Never, nevermore, be seen - By the eyes of this sad maid? - - Ah! what doest thou, cruel sire? - Lo! the truth is known full well, - That thou from me life dost steal - In fulfilling thy desire; - If there is not in my sighs - Power to tell thee my distress, - What my tongue cannot express, - Mayst thou learn it from my eyes. - - Now I picture in its gloom - The sad hour when we must sever, - The sweet glory, lost for ever, - And the mournful, bitter, tomb; - Unknown husband's joyless face, - Troubles of the toilsome road, - And his aged mother's mood, - Peevish, for I take her place. - - Other troubles will begin, - Countless heartaches will annoy, - When I see what giveth joy - To my husband and his kin; - Yet the fear I apprehend - And my fortune pictureth, - Will be ended soon by death, - Which doth all our sorrows end. - -Galatea sang no more, for the tears she was shedding hindered her -voice, and even the satisfaction in all those who had been listening to -her, for they straightway knew clearly what they were dimly imagining -concerning Galatea's marriage with the Lusitanian shepherd, and how -much it was being brought about against her will. But he whom her tears -and sighs moved most to pity was Elicio, for he would have given his -life to remedy them, had their remedy depended thereon; but making use -of his discretion, his face dissembling the grief his soul was feeling, -he and Damon went up to where the shepherdesses were, whom they -courteously greeted, and with no less courtesy were received by them. -Galatea straightway asked Damon for her father, and he replied to her -that he was staying in Silerio's hermitage, in the company of Timbrio -and Nisida, and of all the other shepherds who accompanied Timbrio, -and he likewise gave her an account of the recognition of Silerio and -Timbrio, and of the loves of Darinto and Blanca, Nisida's sister, with -all the details Timbrio had related of what had happened to him in the -course of his love, whereon Galatea said: - -'Happy Timbrio and happy Nisida, since the unrest suffered until now -has ended in such felicity, wherewith you will set in oblivion the past -disasters! nay, it will serve to increase your glory, since it is a -saying that the memory of past calamities adds to the happiness that -comes from present joys. But woe for the hapless soul, that sees itself -brought to the pass of recalling lost bliss, and with fear of the ill -that is to come; without seeing nor finding remedy, nor any means to -check the misfortune which is threatening it, since griefs distress the -more the more they are feared!' - -'You speak truth, fair Galatea,' said Damon, 'for there is no doubt -that the sudden and unexpected grief that comes, does not distress so -much, though it alarms, as that which threatens during long lapse of -time, and closes up all the ways of remedy. But nevertheless I say, -Galatea, that Heaven does not send evils so much without alloy, as to -take away their remedy altogether, especially when it lets us see them -coming first, for it seems that then it wishes to give an opportunity -for the working of our reason, in order that it may exercise and busy -itself in tempering or turning aside the misfortunes about to come, -and often it contents itself with distressing us by merely keeping our -minds busied with some specious fear without the accomplishment of the -dreaded evil being reached; and though it should be reached, so long as -life does not end, no one should despair of the remedy for any evil he -may suffer.' - -'I do not doubt of this,' replied Galatea, 'if the evils which are -dreaded or suffered were so slight, as to leave free and unimpeded the -working of our intellect; but you know well, Damon, that when the evil -is such that this name can be given to it, the first thing it does is -to cloud our perception, and to destroy the powers of our free will, -our vigour decaying in such a way that it can scarce lift itself, -though hope urge it the more.' - -'I do not know, Galatea,' answered Damon, 'how in your green years -can be contained such experience of evils, if it is not that you wish -us to understand that your great discretion extends to speaking from -intuitive knowledge of things, for you have no information concerning -them in any other way.' - -'Would to Heaven, discreet Damon,' replied Galatea, 'that I were not -able to contradict you in what you say, since thereby I would gain two -things: to retain the good opinion you have of me, and not to feel the -pain which causes me to speak with so much experience of it.' - -Up to this point Elicio had kept silence; but being unable any longer -to endure seeing Galatea give tokens of the bitter grief she was -suffering, he said to her: - -'If you think perchance, peerless Galatea, that the woe that threatens -you can by any chance be remedied, by what you owe to the good-will to -serve you which you have known in me, I beg you to declare it to me; -and if you should not wish this so as to comply with what you owe to -obedience to your father, give me at least leave to oppose anyone who -should wish to carry away from us from these banks the treasure of your -beauty, which has been nurtured thereon. And do not think, shepherdess, -that I presume so much on myself, as alone to make bold to fulfil with -deeds what I now offer you in words, for though the love I bear you -gives me spirit for a greater enterprise, I distrust my fortune, and -so I must needs place it in the hands of reason, and in those of all -the shepherds that pasture their flocks on these banks of Tagus, who -will not be willing to suffer that the sun that illumines them, the -discretion that makes them marvel, the beauty that incites them and -inspires them to a thousand honourable rivalries should be snatched -and taken away from before their eyes. Wherefore, fair Galatea, on the -faith of the reason I have expressed, and of that which I have for -adoring you, I make you this offer, which must needs constrain you to -disclose your wish to me, in order that I may not fall into the error -of going against it in anything; but considering that your matchless -goodness and modesty must needs move you to respond rather to your -father's desire than to your own, I do not wish, shepherdess, that you -should tell it me, but to undertake to do what shall seem good to me, -with the purpose of looking after your honour, with the care with which -you yourself have always looked after it.' - -Galatea was going to reply to Elicio and to thank him for his kind -desire; but she was prevented by the sudden coming of the eight masked -shepherds whom Damon and Elicio had seen passing toward the village -a little while before. All came to where the shepherdesses were, and -without speaking a word, six of them rushed with incredible speed to -close with Damon and Elicio, holding them in so strong a clutch that -they could in no way release themselves. In the meanwhile the other two -(one of whom was the one who came on horseback) went to where Rosaura -was, shrieking by reason of the violence that was being done to Damon -and Elicio; but, without any defence availing her, one of the shepherds -took her in his arms, and placed her on the mare, and in the arms of -the one who was mounted. He, removing his mask, turned to the shepherds -and shepherdesses, saying: - -'Do not wonder, good friends, at the wrong which seemingly has here -been done you, for the power of love and this lady's ingratitude have -been the cause of it. I pray you to forgive me, since it is no longer -in my control; and if the famous Grisaldo comes through these parts -(as I believe he soon will come), you will tell him that Artandro is -carrying off Rosaura, because he could not endure to be mocked by her, -and that, if love and this wrong should move him to wish for vengeance, -he already knows that Aragón is my country, and the place where I live.' - -Rosaura was in a swoon on the saddle-bow, and the other shepherds would -not let Elicio or Damon go, until Artandro bade them let them go; and -when they saw themselves free, they drew their knives with valiant -spirit and rushed upon the seven shepherds, who all together held the -javelins they were carrying at their breasts, telling them to stop, -since they saw how little they could achieve in the enterprise they -were undertaking. - -'Still less can Artandro achieve,' Elicio said in reply to them, 'in -having wrought such treason.' - -'Call it not treason,' answered one of the others, 'for this lady has -given her word to be Artandro's wife, and now, to comply with the -fickle mood of woman, she has withdrawn it, and yielded herself to -Grisaldo, a wrong so manifest and such that it could not be dissembled -from our master Artandro. Therefore calm yourselves, shepherds, and -think better of us than hitherto, since to serve our master in so just -a cause excuses us.' - -And without saying more, they turned their backs, still mistrusting the -evil looks Elicio and Damon wore, who were in such a rage at not being -able to undo that violent act, and at finding themselves incapacitated -from avenging what was being done to them, that they knew neither what -to say nor what to do. But the sufferings Galatea and Florisa endured -at seeing Rosaura carried away in that manner, were such that they -moved Elicio to set his life in the manifest peril of losing it; for, -drawing his sling--and Damon doing the same--he went at full speed in -pursuit of Artandro, and with much spirit and skill they began from -a distance to throw such large stones at them that they made them -halt and turn to set themselves on the defensive. But nevertheless -it could not but have gone ill with the two bold shepherds, had not -Artandro bidden his men to go forward and leave them, as they did, -until they entered a dense little thicket which was on one side of the -road, and, with the protection of the trees the slings and stones of -the angry shepherds had little effect. Nevertheless they would have -followed them, had they not seen Galatea and Florisa and the other two -shepherdesses coming with all haste to where they were, and for this -reason they stopped, violently restraining the rage that spurred them -on, and the desired vengeance they meditated; and as they went forward -to receive Galatea, she said to them: - -'Temper your wrath, gallant shepherds, since with the advantage of -our enemies your diligence cannot vie, though it has been such as the -valour of your souls has shown to us.' - -'The sight of your discontent, Galatea,' said Elicio, 'would, -I believed, have given such violent energy to mine, that those -discourteous shepherds would not have boasted of the violence they have -done us; but in my fortune is involved not having any luck in anything -I desire.' - -'The loving desire Artandro feels' said Galatea, 'it was which moved -him to such discourtesy, and so he is in my eyes excused in part.' - -And straightway she related to them in full detail the story of -Rosaura, and how she was waiting for Grisaldo to receive him as -husband, which might have come to Artandro's knowledge, and that -jealous rage might have moved him to do as they had seen. - -'If it is as you say, discreet Galatea,' said Damon, 'I fear that from -Grisaldo's neglect, and Artandro's boldness, and Rosaura's fickle mood, -some grief and strife must needs arise.' - -'That might be,' replied Galatea, 'should Artandro dwell in Castile; -but if he withdraws to Aragón, which is his country, Grisaldo will be -left with only the desire for vengeance.' - -'Is there no one to inform him of this wrong?' said Elicio. - -'Yes,' replied Florisa, 'for I pledge myself that before night -approaches, he shall have knowledge of it.' - -'If that were so,' replied Damon, 'he would be able to recover his -beloved before they reached Aragón; for a loving breast is not wont to -be slothful.' - -'I do not think that Grisaldo's will be so,' said Florisa, 'and, that -time and opportunity to show it may not fail him, I pray you, Galatea, -let us return to the village, for I wish to send to inform Grisaldo of -his misfortune.' - -'Be it done as you bid, friend,' replied Galatea, 'for I shall give you -a shepherd to take the news.' - -And with this they were about to take leave of Damon and Elicio, had -not these persisted in their wish to go with them. And as they were -journeying to the village, they heard on their right hand the pipe, -straightway recognised by all, of Erastro, who was coming in pursuit of -his friend Elicio. They stopped to listen to it, and heard him singing -thus, as he came, with tokens of tender grief: - -ERASTRO. - By rugged paths my fancy's doubtful end - I follow, to attain it ever trying, - And in night's gloom and chilly darkness lying, - The forces of my life I ever spend. - - To leave the narrow way, I do not lend - A thought, although I see that I am dying, - For, on the faith of my true faith relying, - 'Gainst greater fear I would myself defend. - - My faith the beacon is that doth declare - Safe haven to my storm, and doth reveal - Unto my voyage promise of success, - - Although the means uncertain may appear, - Although my star's bright radiance Love conceal, - Although the heavens assail me and distress. - -With a deep sigh the hapless shepherd ended his loving song, and, -believing that no one heard him, loosed his voice in words such as -these: - -'Oh Love, whose mighty power, though exercising no constraint upon my -soul, brought it to pass that I should have power to keep my thoughts -busied so well, seeing that thou hast done me so much good, seek not -now to show thyself doing me the ill wherewith thou threatenest me! -for thy mood is more changeable than that of fickle fortune. Behold, -Lord, how obedient I have been to thy laws, how ready to follow thy -behests, and how subservient I have kept my will to thine! Reward me -for this obedience by doing what is to thee of such import to do; -suffer not these banks of ours to be bereft of that beauty which set -beauty and bestowed beauty on their fresh and tiny grasses, on their -lowly plants, and lofty trees; consent not, Lord, that from the clear -Tagus be taken away the treasure that enriches it, and from which it -has more fame than from the golden sands it nurtures in its bosom; take -not away from the shepherds of these meadows the light of their eyes, -the glory of their thoughts, and the noble incentive that spurred them -on to a thousand noble and virtuous enterprises; consider well that, -if thou dost consent that Galatea should be taken from this to foreign -lands, thou despoilest thyself of the dominion thou hast on these -banks, since thou dost exercise it through Galatea alone; and if she -is wanting, count it assured that thou wilt not be known in all these -meadows; for all, as many as dwell therein, will refuse thee obedience -and will not aid thee with the wonted tribute; mark that what I beg of -thee is so conformable and near to reason, that thou wouldst wholly -depart from it, if thou didst not grant me my request. For what law -ordains, or what reason consents that the beauty we have nurtured, the -discretion that had its beginning in these our woods and villages, the -grace granted by Heaven's especial gift to our country, now that we -were hoping to cull the honourable fruit of so much wealth and riches, -must needs be taken to foreign realms to be possessed and dealt with -by strange and unknown hands? May piteous Heaven seek not to work us -a harm so noteworthy! Oh green meadows, that rejoiced at her sight, -oh sweet-smelling flowers, that, touched by her feet, were full of a -greater fragrance, oh plants, oh trees of this delightful wood! make -all of you in the best form you can, though it be not granted to your -nature, some kind of lamentation to move Heaven to grant me what I beg!' - -The love-sick shepherd said this, shedding the while such tears that -Galatea could not dissemble hers, nor yet any of those who were with -her, making all so noteworthy a lamentation, as if then weeping at -the rites of his death. Erastro came up to them at this point and was -received by them with pleasing courtesy. And, as he saw Galatea with -tokens of having accompanied him in his tears, without taking his eyes -from her, he stood looking intently on her for a space, at the end of -which he said: - -'Now I know of a truth, Galatea, that no one of mankind escapes the -blows of fickle fortune, since I see that you who, I thought, were to -be by special privilege free from them, are assailed and harassed by -them with greater force. Hence I am sure that Heaven has sought by a -single blow to grieve all who know you, and all who have any knowledge -of your worth; but nevertheless I cherish the hope that its cruelty is -not to extend so far as to carry further the affliction it has begun, -coming as it does so much to the hurt of your happiness.' - -'Nay, for this same reason,' replied Galatea, 'I am less sure of my -misfortune, since I was never unfortunate in what I desired; but, as -it does not befit the modesty on which I pride myself, to reveal so -clearly how the obedience I owe to my parents draws me after it by the -hair, I pray you, Erastro, not to give me cause to renew my grief, and -that naught may be treated of either by you or by anyone else that may -awaken in me before the time the memory of the distress I fear. And -together with this I also pray you, shepherds, to suffer me to go on to -the village in order that Grisaldo, being informed, may have time to -take satisfaction for the wrong Artandro has done him.' - -Erastro was ignorant of Artandro's affair; but the shepherdess Florisa -in a few words told him it all; whereat Erastro wondered, thinking -that Artandro's valour could scarce be small, since it was set on so -difficult a task. The shepherds were on the very point of doing what -Galatea bade them, had they not discovered at that moment all the -company of gentlemen, shepherds and ladies who were the night before -in Silerio's hermitage. They were coming with tokens of the greatest -joy to the village, bringing with them Silerio in a different garb -and mind from that he had had hitherto, for he had already abandoned -that of a hermit, changing it for that of a joyous bridegroom, as he -already was the fair Blanca's to the equal joy and satisfaction of -both, and of his good friends Timbrio and Nisida who persuaded him -to it, giving an end by that marriage to all his miseries, and peace -and quiet to the thoughts that distressed him for Nisida's sake. -And so, with the rejoicing such an issue caused in them, they were -all coming giving tokens thereof with agreeable music, and discreet -and loving songs, which they ceased when they saw Galatea and the -rest who were with her, receiving one another with much pleasure and -courtesy, Galatea congratulating Silerio on what had happened to him, -and Blanca on her betrothal, and the same was done by the shepherds, -Damon, Elicio, and Erastro, who were warmly attached to Silerio. As -soon as the congratulations and courtesies between them ceased, they -agreed to pursue their way to the village, and to lighten it, Thyrsis -asked Timbrio to finish the sonnet he had begun to repeat when he was -recognised by Silerio. And Timbrio, not refusing to do so, to the sound -of the jealous Orfenio's flute, with an exquisite and sweet voice sang -it and finished it. It was as follows: - -TIMBRIO. - My hope is builded on so sure a base - That, though the fiercer blow the ruthless wind, - It cannot shake the bonds that firmly bind, - Such faith, such strength, such courage it displays. - - Far, far am I from finding any place - For change within my firm and loving mind, - For sooner life doth in my anguish find - Its end draw nigh, than confidence decays. - - For, if amidst Love's conflict wavereth - The love-sick breast, no sweet nor peaceful home - To win from the same Love it meriteth. - - Though Scylla threaten and Charybdis foam, - My breast the while, exultant in its faith, - Braveth the sea, and claims from Love its doom. - -Timbrio's sonnet seemed good to the shepherds, and no less the grace -with which he had sung it; and it was such that they begged him to -repeat something else. But he excused himself by telling his friend -Silerio to answer for him in that affair, as he had always done in -others more dangerous. Silerio could not fail to do what his friend -bade him, and so, in the joy of seeing himself in such a happy state, -he sang what follows to the sound of that same flute of Orfenio's: - -SILERIO. - To Heaven I give my thanks, since I have passed - Safe through the perils of this doubtful sea, - And to this haven of tranquillity, - Although I knew not whither, I am cast. - - Now let the sails of care be furled at last, - Let the poor gaping ship repairèd be, - Let each fulfil the vows which erstwhile he - With stricken face made to the angry blast. - - I kiss the earth, and Heaven I adore, - My fortune fair and joyous I embrace, - Happy I call my fatal destiny. - - Now I my hapless neck rejoicing place - In the new peerless gentle chain once more, - With purpose new and loving constancy. - -Silerio ended, and begged Nisida to be kind enough to gladden those -fields with her song, and she, looking at her beloved Timbrio, with her -eyes asked leave of him to fulfil what Silerio was asking of her, and -as he gave it her with a look too, she, without waiting further, with -much charm and grace, when the sound of Orfenio's flute ceased, to that -of Orompo's pipe sang this sonnet: - -NISIDA. - Against his view am I, whoso doth swear - That never did Love's happiness attain - Unto the height attained by his cruel pain, - Though fortune wait on bliss with tenderest care. - - I know what bliss is, what misfortune drear, - And what they do I know full well; 'tis plain - That bliss the more builds up the thought again, - The more Love's sorrow doth its strength impair. - - I saw myself by bitter death embraced, - When I was ill-informed by tidings ill; - To the rude corsairs I became a prey. - - Cruel was the anguish, bitter was the taste - Of sorrow, yet I know and prove that still - Greater the joy is of this glad to-day. - -Galatea and Florisa were filled with wonder at the exquisite voice of -the fair Nisida, who, as it seemed to her that Timbrio and those of -his party had for the time taken the lead in singing, did not wish her -sister to be without doing it; and so, without much pressing, with no -less grace than Nisida, beckoning to Orfenio to play his flute, to its -sound she sang in this wise: - -BLANCA. - Just as if I in sandy Libya were - Or in far frozen Scythia, I beheld - Myself at times by glowing fire assailed - That never cools, at times by chilly fear. - - But hope, that makes our sorrow disappear, - Although such different semblances it bore, - Kept my life safe, well-guarded by its power, - When it was strong, when it was weak and drear, - - Spent was the fury of the winter's chill, - And, though the fire of Love its power retained, - Yet the spring came which I had longed to see. - - Now in one happy moment I have gained - The sweet fruit long desirèd by my will - With bounteous tokens of sincerity. - -Blanca's voice and what she sang pleased the shepherds no less than -all the others they had heard. And when they were about to give proof -that all the skill was not contained in the gentlemen of the court, and -when Orompo, Crisio, Orfenio, and Marsilio, moved almost by one and the -same thought, began to tune their instruments, they were forced to turn -their heads by a noise they perceived behind them, which was caused by -a shepherd who was furiously rushing through the thickets of the green -wood. He was recognised by all as the love-sick Lauso, whereat Thyrsis -marvelled, for the night before he had taken leave of him, saying that -he was going on a business, to finish which meant to finish his grief, -and to begin his pleasure; and without saying more to him had gone -away with another shepherd his friend, nor did he know what could have -happened to him now that he was journeying with so much haste. What -Thyrsis said moved Damon to seek to call Lauso, and so he called to him -to come; but seeing that he did not hear him, and that he was already -with great haste disappearing behind a hill, he went forward with all -speed, and from the top of another hill, called him again with louder -cries. Lauso hearing them, and knowing who called him, could not but -turn, and on coming up to Damon embraced him with tokens of strange -content, and so great that the proof he gave of being happy made Damon -marvel; and so he said to him: - -'What is it, friend Lauso? Have you by chance attained the goal of your -desires, or have they since yesterday conformed with it in such a way -that you are finding with ease what you purpose?' - -'Much greater is the good I have, Damon, true friend,' replied Lauso; -'since the cause which to others is wont to be one of despair and death -has proved to me hope and life, and this cause has been owing to a -disdain and undeceiving, accompanied by a prudish grace, which I have -seen in my shepherdess, for it has restored me to my first condition. -Now, now, shepherd, my wearied neck does not feel the weighty yoke of -love, now the lofty fabric of thought that made me giddy has vanished -in my mind; now I shall return to the lost converse of my friends, now -the green grass, and sweet-smelling flowers of these peaceful fields -will seem to me what they are, now my sighs will have truce, my tears -a ford, and my turmoils repose. Consider, therefore, Damon, if this is -sufficient cause for me to show myself happy and rejoicing.' - -'Yes it is, Lauso,' replied Damon, 'but I fear that happiness so -suddenly born cannot be lasting, and I have already experienced that -every freedom that is begotten of disdain vanishes like smoke, and -straightway the loving purpose turns again with greater haste to follow -its purposings. Wherefore, friend Lauso, may it please Heaven that -your content may be more secure than I fancy, and that you may enjoy -for a long time the freedom you proclaim, for I would rejoice not only -because of what I owe to our friendship, but also because I should see -an unwonted miracle in the desires of love.' - -'Howsoever this may be, Damon,' replied Lauso, 'I now feel myself free, -and lord of my will, and that yours may satisfy itself that what I say -is true, consider what you wish me to do in proof of it. Do you wish me -to go away? Do you wish me to visit no more the hut where you think the -cause of my past pains and present joys can be? I will do anything to -satisfy you.' - -'The important point is that you, Lauso, should be satisfied,' replied -Damon, 'and I shall see that you are, if I see you six days hence in -this same frame of mind; and for the nonce I seek naught else from -you, save that you leave the road you were taking and come with me to -where all those shepherds and ladies are waiting for us, and that you -celebrate the joy you feel by entertaining us with your song whilst we -go to the village.' - -Lauso was pleased to do what Damon bade him, and so he turned back with -him at the time when Thyrsis was beckoning to Damon to return; and when -it came to pass that he and Lauso came up, without wasting words of -courtesy Lauso said: - -'I do not come, sirs, for less than festivity and pleasure; therefore -if you would have any in listening to me, let Marsilio sound his pipe, -and prepare yourselves to hear what I never thought my tongue would -have cause to utter, nor yet my thought to imagine.' - -All the shepherds replied together that it would be a great joy to them -to hear him. And straightway Marsilio, moved by the desire he had to -listen to him, played his pipe, to the sound of which Lauso began to -sing in this wise: - - LAUSO. - Unto the ground I sink on bended knee, - My suppliant hands clasped humbly, and my breast - Filled with a righteous and a loving zeal; - Holy disdain, I worship thee; in thee - Are summed the causes of the dainty feast - Which I in calm and ease enjoy full well; - For, of the rigour of the poison fell - Which Love's ill doth contain, - Thou wert the certain and the speedy cure, - Turning my ruin sure - To good, my war to healthy peace again. - Wherefore not once, but times beyond all measure, - I do adore thee as my kindliest treasure. - - Through thee the light of these my wearied eyes, - Which was so long troubled and even lost, - Hath turned again to what it was before; - Through thee again I glory in the prize - Which from my will and life at bitter cost - Love's ancient tyranny in triumph bore. - 'Twas thou that didst my error's night restore - To bright unclouded day, - 'Twas thou that ledd'st the reason, which of old - Foul slavery did hold, - Into a peaceful and a wiser way; - Reason, now mistress, guideth me to where - Eternal bliss doth show and shine more clear. - - From thee I learned, disdain, how treacherous, - How false and feigned had been those signs of love, - Which the fair maid did to my eyes display, - And how those words and whispers amorous, - That charmed the ear so much, and caused to rove - The soul, leading it from itself astray, - Were framed in falsehood and in mockery gay; - How the glance of those eyes, - So sweet and tender, did but seek my doom, - That unto winter's gloom - Might be transformed my springtime's sunny skies, - What time I should be clearly undeceived; - But, sweet disdain, thou hast the wound relieved. - - Disdain, disdain, ever the sharpest goad - That urges on the fancy to pursue - After the loving, long-desirèd need, - In me changed is thy practice and thy mood, - For, by thee led, the purpose I eschew - Which once I followed hard with unseen speed; - And, though Love, ill-contented with my deed, - Doth never, never, rest, - But spreads the noose to seize me as before, - And, to wound me the more, - Aimeth a thousand shafts against my breast, - 'Tis thou, disdain, alone that art my friend, - Thou canst his arrows break, his meshes rend. - - My love, though simple, yet is not so weak - That one disdain could bring it to the ground, - Countless disdains were needed for the blow, - E'en as the pine is doomed at last to break - And fall to earth--though on its trunk resound - Full many a blow, the last 'tis brings it low. - Weighty disdain, with countenance of woe, - Who art on love's absence based, - On poor opinion of another's lot, - To see thee hath been fraught - With joy to me, to hear thee and to taste, - To know that thou hast deigned, with soul allied - To beat down and to end my foolish pride. - - Thou beatest down my folly, and dost aid - The intellect to rise on lofty wing - And shake off heavy slumber from the mind, - So that with healthy purpose undismayed - It may the power and praise of others sing, - If it perchance a grateful mistress find. - Thou hast the henbane, wherewith Love unkind - Lullèd my sorrowing strength - To slumber, robbed of vigour, thou, in pride - Of glowing strength, dost guide - Me back unto new life and ways at length, - For now I know that I am one who may - Fear within bounds and hope without dismay. - -Lauso sang no more, though what he had sung sufficed to fill those -present with wonder, for, as all knew that the day before he was so -much in love and so content to be so, it made them marvel to see him in -so short a space of time so changed and so different from what he was -wont to be. And having considered this well, his friend Thyrsis said to -him: - -'I know not, friend Lauso, if I should congratulate you on the bliss -attained in such brief hours, for I fear that it cannot be as firm and -sure as you imagine; but nevertheless I am glad that you enjoy, though -it may be for a little while, the pleasure that freedom when attained -causes in the soul, since it might be that knowing now how it should be -valued, though you might turn again to the broken chains and bonds, you -would use more force to break them, drawn by the sweetness and delight -a free understanding and an unimpassioned will enjoy.' - -'Have no fear, discreet Thyrsis,' replied Lauso, 'that any other new -artifice may suffice for me to place once more my feet in the stocks of -love, nor count me so light and capricious but that it has cost me, to -set me in the state in which I am, countless reflections, a thousand -verified suspicions, a thousand fulfilled promises made to Heaven, that -I might return to the light I had lost; and since in the light I now -see how little I saw before, I will strive to preserve it in the best -way I can.' - -'There will be no other way so good,' said Thyrsis, 'as not to turn -to look at what you leave behind, for you will lose, if you turn, -the freedom that has cost you so much, and you will be left, as was -left that heedless lover, with new causes for ceaseless lament; and -be assured, friend Lauso, that there is not in the world a breast so -loving, which disdain and needless arrogance do not cool, and even -cause to withdraw from its ill-placed thoughts. And I am made to -believe this truth the more, knowing who Silena is, though you have -never told it me, and knowing also her fickle mood, her hasty impulses, -and the freedom, to give it no other name, of her inclinations, things -which, if she did not temper them and cloak them with the peerless -beauty wherewith Heaven has endowed her, would have made her abhorred -by all the world.' - -'You speak truth, Thyrsis,' replied Lauso, 'for without any doubt -her remarkable beauty, and the appearances of incomparable modesty -wherewith she arrays herself are reasons why she should be not only -loved but adored by all that behold her. And so no one should marvel -that my free will has submitted to enemies so strong and mighty; only -it is right that one should marvel at the way I have been able to -escape from them, for though I come from their hands so ill-treated, -with will impaired, understanding disturbed, and memory decayed, yet it -seems to me that I can conquer in the strife.' - -The two shepherds did not proceed further in their discourse, for at -this moment they saw a fair shepherdess coming by the very road they -were going, and a little way from her a shepherd, who was straightway -recognised, for he was the old Arsindo, and the shepherdess was -Galercio's sister, Maurisa. And when she was recognised by Galatea -and Florisa, they understood that she was coming with some message -from Grisaldo to Rosaura, and as the pair went forward to welcome her, -Maurisa came to embrace Galatea, and the old Arsindo greeted all the -shepherds, and embraced his friend Lauso, who had a great desire to -know what Arsindo had done after they told him that he had gone off in -pursuit of Maurisa. And when he was now seen coming back with her, he -straightway began to lose with him and with all the character his white -hairs had won for him, and he would even have lost it altogether, had -not those who were there known so well from experience to what point -and how far the force of love extended, and so in the very ones who -blamed him he found excuses for his error. And it seems that Arsindo, -guessing what the shepherds guessed of him, as though to satisfy and -excuse his affection, said to them: - -'Listen, shepherds, to one of the strangest love-affairs that for many -years can have been seen on these our banks, or on others. I believe -full well that you know, and we all know, the renowned shepherd Lenio, -him whose loveless disposition won him the name of loveless, him -who not many days ago, merely to speak ill of love, dared to enter -into rivalry with the famous Thyrsis, who is present; him, I say, -who never could move his tongue, were it not to speak ill of love; -him who with such earnestness was wont to reprove those whom he saw -distressed by the pangs of love. He, then, being so open an enemy of -Love, has come to the pass that I am sure Love has no one who follows -him more earnestly, nor yet has he a vassal whom he persecutes more, -for he has made him fall in love with the loveless Gelasia, that -cruel shepherdess, who the other day, as you saw, held the brother of -this damsel' (pointing to Maurisa), 'who resembles her so closely in -disposition, with the rope at his throat, to finish at the hands of her -cruelty his short and ill-starred days. I say in a word, shepherds, -that Lenio the loveless is dying for the hard-hearted Gelasia, and for -her he fills the air with sighs and the earth with tears; and what is -worse in this is that it seems to me that Love has wished to avenge -himself on Lenio's rebellious heart, handing him over to the hardest -and most scornful shepherdess that has been seen; and he knowing it, -now seeks in all he says and does to reconcile himself with Love; and -in the same terms with which before he abused him, he now exalts and -honours him. And nevertheless, neither is Love moved to favour him, nor -Gelasia inclined to heal him, as I have seen with my eyes; since, not -many hours ago, as I was coming in the company of this shepherdess, -we found him at the spring of slates stretched on the ground, his -face covered with a cold sweat, and his breast panting with strange -rapidity. I went up to him and recognised him, and with the water of -the spring sprinkled his face, whereat he recovered his lost senses; -and drawing close to him I asked him the cause of his grief, which -he told me without missing a word, telling it me with such tender -feeling, that he inspired it in this shepherdess, in whom I think there -never was contained the sign of any compassion. He dwelt on Gelasia's -cruelty, and the love he had for her, and the suspicion that reigned -in him that Love had brought him to such a state to avenge himself at -one blow for the many wrongs he had done him. I consoled him as best I -could, and leaving him free from his past paroxysm, I come accompanying -this shepherdess, and to seek you, Lauso, in order that, if you would -be willing, we may return to our huts, for it is ten days since we -left them, and it may be that our herds feel our absence more than we -do theirs.' - -'I know not if I should tell you in reply, Arsindo,' replied Lauso, -'that I believe you invite me rather out of compliment than for -anything else to return to our huts, having as much to do in those of -others, as your ten days' absence from me has shown. But leaving on -one side most of what I could say to you thereon for a better time and -opportunity, tell me again if it is true what you say of Lenio; for if -it is, I may declare that Love has wrought in these days two of the -greatest miracles he has wrought in all the days of his life, namely, -to subdue and enslave Lenio's hard heart, and to set free mine which -was so subjected.' - -'Look to what you are saying, friend Lauso,' then said Orompo, 'for if -Love held you subject, as you have indicated hitherto, how has the same -Love now set you in the freedom you proclaim?' - -'If you would understand me, Orompo,' replied Lauso, 'you will see -that I in no wise contradict myself, for I say, or mean to say, that -the love that reigned and reigns in the breast of her whom I loved so -dearly, as it directs itself to a purpose different from mine, though -it is all love,--the effect it has wrought in me is to place me in -freedom and Lenio in slavery; and do not compel me, Orompo, to relate -other miracles with these.' - -And as he said this he turned his eyes to look at the old Arsindo, and -with them uttered what with his tongue he kept back; for all understood -that the third miracle he might have related would have been the sight -of Arsindo's gray hairs in love with the few green years of Maurisa. -She was talking apart all this time with Galatea and Florisa, telling -them that on the morrow Grisaldo would be in the village in shepherd's -garb, and that he thought there to wed Rosaura in secret, for publicly -he could not, because the kinsmen of Leopersia, to whom his father had -agreed to marry him, had learned that Grisaldo was about to fail in his -plighted word, and they in no wise wished such a wrong to be done them; -but nevertheless Grisaldo was determined to conform rather to what he -owed to Rosaura than to the obligation in which he stood to his father. - -'All that I have told you, shepherdesses,' went on Maurisa, 'my brother -Galercio told me to tell you. He was coming to you with this message, -but the cruel Gelasia whose beauty ever draws after it the soul of my -luckless brother, was the cause why he could not come to tell you what -I have said, since, in order to follow her, he ceased to follow the -way he was taking, trusting in me as a sister. You have now learned, -shepherdesses, why I have come. Where is Rosaura to tell it her? or -do you tell it her, for the anguish in which my brother lies does not -permit me to remain here a moment longer.' - -Whilst the shepherdess was saying this, Galatea was considering the -grievous reply she intended to give her, and the sad tidings that must -needs reach the ears of the luckless Grisaldo; but seeing that she -could not escape giving them, and that it was worse to detain her, she -straightway told her all that had happened to Rosaura, and how Artandro -was carrying her off; whereat Maurisa was amazed, and at once would -fain have returned to tell Grisaldo, had not Galatea detained her, -asking her what had become of the two shepherdesses who had gone away -with her and Galercio, to which Maurisa replied: - -'I might tell you things about them, Galatea, which would set you in -greater wonder than that in which Rosaura's fate has set me, but time -does not give me opportunity for it. I only tell you that she who was -called Leonarda has betrothed herself to my brother Artidoro by the -subtlest trick that has ever been seen; and Teolinda, the other one, is -in the pass of ending her life or of losing her wits, and she is only -sustained by the sight of Galercio, for, as his appearance resembles so -much that of my brother Artidoro, she does not depart from his company -for a moment, a thing which is as irksome and vexatious to Galercio -as the company of the cruel Gelasia is sweet and pleasing to him. The -manner in which this took place I will tell you more in detail, when -we see each other again; for it will not be right that by my delay the -remedy should be hindered, that Grisaldo may have in his misfortune, -using to remedy it all diligence possible. For, if it is only this -morning that Artandro carried off Rosaura, he will not have been able -to go so far from these banks as to take away from Grisaldo the hope of -recovering her, and more so if I quicken my steps as I intend.' - -Galatea approved of what Maurisa was saying, and so she did not wish -to detain her longer; only she begged her to be kind enough to return -to see her as soon as she could, to relate to her what had happened to -Teolinda, and what had happened in Rosaura's affair. The shepherdess -promised it her, and without staying longer, took leave of those who -were there, and returned to her village, leaving all contented with -her charm and beauty. But he who felt her departure most was the old -Arsindo, who, not to give clear tokens of his desire, had to remain -as lonely without Maurisa as he was accompanied by his thoughts. The -shepherdesses, too, were left amazed at what they had heard about -Teolinda, and desired exceedingly to learn her fate; and, whilst in -this state, they heard the clear sound of a horn, which was sounding -on their right hand, and turning their eyes to that side, they saw on -the top of a hill of some height two old shepherds who had between them -an aged priest, whom they straightway knew to be the old Telesio. And, -one of the shepherds having blown the horn a second time, the three -all descended from the hill and journeyed towards another which was -hard by, and having ascended it, they again blew the horn, at the sound -of which many shepherds began to move from different parts to come -to see what Telesio desired; for by that signal he was wont to call -together all the shepherds of that bank whenever he wished to address -to them some useful discourse, or to tell them of the death of some -renowned shepherd in those parts, or in order to bring to their minds -the day of some solemn festival or of some sad funeral rites. Aurelio -then, and almost all the shepherds who came there, having recognised -Telesio's costume and calling, all came on, drawing nigh to where he -was, and when they got there, they were already united in one group. -But, as Telesio saw so many people coming, and recognised how important -all were, descending from the hill, he went to receive them with much -love and courtesy, and with the same courtesy was received by all. And -Aurelio, going up to Telesio, said to him: - -'Tell us, if you be so good, honourable and venerable Telesio, what new -cause moves you to wish to assemble the shepherds of these meadows; is -it by chance for joyous festival or sad funereal rite? Do you wish to -point out to us something appertaining to the improvement of our lives? -Tell us, Telesio, what your will ordains, since you know that ours will -not depart from all that yours might wish.' - -'May Heaven repay you, shepherds,' answered Telesio, 'for the sincerity -of your purposes, since they conform so much to that of him who seeks -only your good and profit. But to satisfy the desire you have to learn -what I wish, I wish to bring to your memory the memory you ought ever -to retain of the worth and fame of the famous and excellent shepherd -Meliso, whose mournful obsequies are renewed and ever will be renewed -from year to year on to-morrow's date so long as there be shepherds on -our banks, and in our souls there be not wanting the knowledge of what -is due to Meliso's goodness and worth. At least for myself I can tell -you that, as long as my life shall last, I shall not fail to remind you -at the fitting time of the obligation under which you have been placed -by the skill, courtesy, and virtue of the peerless Meliso. And so now I -remind you of it and make known to you that to-morrow is the day when -the luckless day must be renewed on which we lost so much good, as it -was to lose the agreeable presence of the prudent shepherd Meliso. By -what you owe to his goodness, and by what you owe to the purpose I have -to serve you, I pray you shepherds to be to-morrow at break of day all -in the valley of cypresses, where stands the tomb of Meliso's honoured -ashes, in order that there with sad hymns and pious sacrifices we may -seek to lighten the pain, if any it suffers, of that happy soul which -has left us in such solitude.' - -And as he said this, moved by the tender regret the memory of Meliso's -death caused him, his venerable eyes filled with tears, most of the -bystanders accompanying him therein. They all with one accord offered -to be present on the morrow where Telesio bade them, and Timbrio and -Silerio, Nisida and Blanca did the same, for it seemed to them that it -would not be well to fail to attend at so solemn an occasion and in an -assembly of shepherds so celebrated as they imagined would assemble -there. Therewith they took leave of Telesio and resumed the journey -to the village they had begun. But they had not gone far from that -place when they saw coming towards them the loveless Lenio, with a -countenance so sad and thoughtful that it set wonder in all; and he -was coming so rapt in his fancies that he passed by the side of the -shepherds without seeing them; nay, rather, turning his course to the -left hand, he had not gone many steps when he flung himself down at -the foot of a green willow; and giving forth a heavy and deep sigh, he -raised his hand, and placing it on the collar of his skin-coat, pulled -so strongly that he tore it all the way down, and straightway he took -the wallet from his side, and drawing from it a polished rebeck, he set -himself to tune it with great attention and calm; and after a little -while he began in a mournful and harmonious voice to sing in such a -manner that he constrained all who had seen him to stop to listen to -him until the end of his song, which was as follows: - -LENIO. - Sweet Love, I repent me now - Of my past presumptuous guilt, - I feel henceforth and avow - That on scoffing it was built, - Reared aloft on mocking show; - Now my proud self I abase - And my rebel neck I place - 'Neath thy yoke of slavery, - Now I know the potency - Of thy great far-spreading grace. - - What thou willest, thou canst do, - And what none can do, thou willest, - Who thou art, well dost thou show - In thy mood whereby thou killest, - In thy pleasure and thy woe; - I am he--the truth is plain-- - Who did count thy bliss as pain, - Thy deceiving undeceiving, - And thy verities as deceiving, - As caresses thy disdain. - - These have now made manifest-- - Though the truth I knew before-- - To my poor submissive breast - That thou only art the shore - Where our wearied lives find rest; - For the tempest pitiless - Which doth most the soul distress, - Thou dost change to peaceful calm, - Thou'rt the soul's delight and balm. - And the food that doth it bless. - - Since I this confession make-- - Late though my confession be-- - Love, seek not my strength to break, - Temper thy severity, - From my neck the burden take; - When the foe hath made submission, - None need punish his contrition, - He doth not himself defend. - Now I fain would be thy friend, - Yet from thee comes my perdition. - - From the stubbornness I turn - Where my malice did me place - And the presence of thy scorn, - From thy justice to thy grace - I appeal with heart forlorn; - If the poor worth of my mind - With thy grace no favour find,-- - With thy well-known grace divine-- - Soon shall I my life resign - To the hands of grief unkind. - - By Gelasia's hands am I - Plunged into so strange a plight, - That if my grief stubbornly - With her stubbornness shall fight, - Soon methinks they both will die; - Tell me, maiden pitiless, - Filled with pride and scornfulness, - Why thou wishest, I implore thee, - That the heart which doth adore thee, - Should thus suffer, shepherdess. - -Little it was that Lenio sang, but his flood of tears was so copious -that he would there have been consumed in them, had not the shepherds -come up to console him. But when he saw them coming and recognised -Thyrsis among them, he arose without further delay and went to fling -himself at his feet, closely embracing his knees, and said to him -without ceasing his tears: - -'Now you can, famous shepherd, take just vengeance for the boldness I -had to compete with you, defending the unjust cause my ignorance set -before me; now, I say, you can raise your arm and with a sharp knife -pierce this heart where was contained foolishness so notorious as it -was not to count Love the universal lord of the world. But one thing -I would have you know, that if you wish to take vengeance duly on my -error, you should leave me with the life I sustain, which is such that -there is no death to compare to it.' - -Thyrsis had already raised the hapless Lenio from the ground, and -having embraced him, sought to console him with discreet and loving -words, saying to him: - -'The greatest fault there is in faults, friend Lenio, is to persist -in them, for it is the disposition of devils never to repent of -errors committed, and likewise one of the chief causes which moves -and constrains men to pardon offences is for the offended one to -see repentance in the one who gives offence, and the more when the -pardoning is in the hands of one who does nothing in doing this -act, since his noble disposition draws and compels him to do it, he -remaining richer and more satisfied with the pardon than with the -vengeance; as we see it repeatedly in great lords and kings, who gain -more glory in pardoning wrongs than in avenging them. And since you, -Lenio, confess the error in which you have been and now know the mighty -forces of Love, and understand of him that he is the universal lord of -our hearts, by reason of this new knowledge and of the repentance you -feel, you can be confident and live assured that gentle and kindly Love -will soon restore you to a calm and loving life; for if he now punishes -you by giving you the painful life you lead, he does it so that you may -know him and may afterwards hold and esteem more highly the life of joy -he surely thinks to give you.' - -To these words Elicio and the remaining shepherds who were there, added -many others whereby it seemed that Lenio was somewhat more consoled. -And straightway he related to them how he was dying for the cruel -shepherdess Gelasia, emphasising to them the scornful and loveless -disposition of hers, and how free and exempt she was from thinking on -any goal in love, describing to them also the insufferable torment -which for her sake the gentle shepherd Galercio was suffering, on whom -she set so little store that a thousand times she had set him on the -verge of suicide. But after they had for a while discoursed on these -things, they resumed their journey, taking Lenio with them, and without -anything else happening to them they reached the village, Elicio taking -with him Thyrsis, Damon, Erastro, Lauso and Arsindo. With Daranio -went Crisio, Orfenio, Marsilio, and Orompo. Florisa and the other -shepherdesses went with Galatea and her father Aurelio, having first -agreed that on the morrow at the coming of the dawn they should meet -to go to the valley of cypresses as Telesio had bidden them, in order -to celebrate Meliso's obsequies. At them, as has already been said, -Timbrio, Silerio, Nisida and Blanca wished to be present, who went that -night with the venerable Aurelio. - - - FOOTNOTES: - -[116] (Sr. D. Francisco Rodríguez Marín--who holds that the character -of Galatea "is not and cannot be" intended to represent Cervantes's -future wife--points to this passage in confirmation of his view: -see his valuable monograph entitled _Luis Barahona de Soto, Estudio -biográfico, bibliográfico y crítico_ (Madrid, 1903), p. 119. In this -distinguished scholar's opinion, the words _el rabadán mayor_ apply -to Philip II., and, by way of illustration, he quotes Lope de Vega's -brilliant _romance_ written to celebrate the wedding of Philip III. and -Margaret of Austria: - - El gran rabadán al reino - Vino de Valladolid, - Con galanes labradores - Y más floridos que abril. - -Galatea, as Sr. Rodríguez Marín believes, was a lady about the court -who could not marry without the King's permission--a permission -unnecessary for anyone in the modest social position of Doña Catalina -de Palacios Salazar y Vozmediano. But compare the _Introduction_ to the -present volume, pp. xxxii.-xxxiii. J. F.-K.) - - - - - BOOK VI. - - -Scarce had the rays of golden Phoebus begun to break through the -lowest line of our horizon, when the aged and venerable Telesio made -the piteous sound of his horn come to the ears of all that were in -the village--a signal which moved those who heard it to leave the -repose of their pastoral couches, and hasten to do what Telesio bade. -But the first who led the way in this were Elicio, Aurelio, Daranio, -and all the shepherds and shepherdesses who were with them, the fair -Nisida and Blanca, and the happy Timbrio and Silerio not being absent, -with a number of other gallant shepherds and beauteous shepherdesses, -who joined them, and might reach the number of thirty. Amongst them -went the peerless Galatea, new miracle of beauty, and the lately-wed -Silveria, who brought with her the fair and haughty Belisa, for whom -the shepherd Marsilio suffered such loving and mortal pangs. Belisa -had come to visit Silveria, and to congratulate her on her newly -attained estate, and she wished likewise to be present at obsequies -so celebrated as she hoped those would be that shepherds so great -and so famous were celebrating. All then came out together from the -village, outside which they found Telesio, with many other shepherds -accompanying him, all clad and adorned in such wise that they clearly -showed that they had come together for a sad and mournful business. -Straightway Telesio ordained, so that the solemn sacrifices might -that day be performed with purer intent and thoughts more calm, that -all the shepherds should come together on their side, and apart from -the shepherdesses, and that the latter should do the same: whereat -the smaller number were content, and the majority not very satisfied, -especially the fond Marsilio, who had already seen the loveless Belisa, -at sight of whom he was so beside himself and so rapt, as his friends -Orompo, Crisio, and Orfenio clearly perceived, and when they saw him in -such a state, they went up to him, and Orompo said to him: - -'Take courage, friend Marsilio, take courage, and do not by your -faint-heartedness cause the small spirit of your breast to be revealed. -What if Heaven, moved to compassion of your pain, has at such a time -brought the shepherdess Belisa to these banks that you may heal it?' - -'Nay rather the better to end me, as I believe,' replied Marsilio, -'will she have come to this place, for this and more must needs be -feared from my fortune; but I will do, Orompo, what you bid, if by -chance in this hard plight reason has more power with me than my -feelings.' - -And therewith Marsilio became again somewhat more calm, and straightway -the shepherds on one side, and the shepherdesses on another, as -was ordained by Telesio, began to make their way to the valley of -cypresses, all preserving a wondrous silence; until Timbrio, astonished -to see the coolness and beauty of the clear Tagus by which he was -going, turned to Elicio who was coming at his side, and said to him: - -'The incomparable beauty of these cool banks, Elicio, causes me no -small wonder; and not without reason, for when one has seen as I have -the spacious banks of the renowned Betis, and those that deck and adorn -the famous Ebro, and the well-known Pisuerga, and when one in foreign -lands has walked by the banks of the holy Tiber, and the pleasing banks -of the Po, made noted by the fall of the rash youth, and has not failed -to go round the cool spots of the peaceful Sebeto, it must needs have -been a great cause that should move me to wonder at seeing any others.' - -'You do not go so far out of the way in what you say, as I believe, -discreet Timbrio,' answered Elicio, 'as not to see with your eyes how -right you are to say it; for without doubt you can believe that the -pleasantness and coolness of the banks of this river excel, as is well -known and recognised, all those you have named, though there should -enter among them those of the distant Xanthus, and of the renowned -Amphrysus, and of the loving Alpheus. For experience holds and has -made certain, that almost in a straight line above the greater part of -these banks appears a sky bright and shining, which with a wide sweep -and with living splendour seems to invite to joy and gladness the heart -that is most estranged from it; and if it is true that the stars and -the sun are sustained, as some say, by the waters here below, I firmly -believe that those of this river are in a large measure the cause that -produces the beauty of the sky that covers it, or I shall believe that -God, for the same reason that they say He dwells in Heaven, makes here -His sojourn for the most part. The earth that embraces it, clad with -a thousand green adornments, seems to make festival and to rejoice at -possessing in itself a gift so rare and pleasing, and the golden river -as though in exchange, sweetly interweaving itself in its embraces, -fashions, as if with intent, a thousand windings in and out, which -fill the soul of all who behold them with wondrous pleasure; whence -it arises that, though the eyes turn again to behold it many a time, -they do not therefore fail to find in it things to cause them new -pleasure and new wonder. Turn your eyes then, valiant Timbrio, and -see how much its banks are adorned by the many villages and wealthy -farmhouses, which are seen built along them. Here in every season of -the year is seen the smiling spring in company with fair Venus, her -garments girded up and full of love, and Zephyrus accompanying her, -with his mother Flora in front, scattering with bounteous hand divers -fragrant flowers; and the skill of its inhabitants has wrought so much -that nature, incorporated with art, is become an artist and art's -equal, and from both together has been formed a third nature to which -I cannot give a name. Of its cultivated gardens, compared with which -the gardens of the Hesperides and of Alcinous, may keep silence, of -the dense woods, of the peaceful olives, green laurels, and rounded -myrtles, of its abundant pastures, joyous valleys, and covered hills, -streamlets and springs which are found on this bank, do not expect me -to say more, save that, if in any part of the earth the Elysian fields -have a place, it is without doubt here. What shall I say of the skilful -working of the lofty wheels, by the ceaseless motion of which men draw -the waters from the deep river, and copiously irrigate the fields which -are distant a long way? Let there be added to this that on these banks -are nurtured the fairest and most discreet shepherdesses that can be -found in the circle of the earth; as a proof of which, leaving aside -that which experience shows us, and what you, Timbrio, do, since you -have been on them and have seen, it will suffice to take as an example -that shepherdess whom you see there, oh Timbrio.' - -And, saying this, he pointed with his crook to Galatea; and without -saying more, left Timbrio wondering to see the discretion and words -with which he had praised the banks of the Tagus and Galatea's beauty. -And he replied to him that nothing of what was said could be gainsaid, -and in these and other things they beguiled the tedium of the road, -until, coming in sight of the valley of cypresses, they saw issuing -from it almost as many shepherds and shepherdesses as those who were -with them. All joined together and with peaceful steps began to enter -the sacred valley, the situation of which was so strange and wondrous -that even in the very ones who had seen it many a time, it caused new -admiration and pleasure. On one portion of the bank of the famous Tagus -there rise in four different and opposite quarters four green and -peaceful hills, walls and defenders as it were of a fair valley which -they contain in their midst, and entrance into it is granted by four -other spots. These same hills close together in such a way that they -come to form four broad and peaceful roads, walled in on all sides by -countless lofty cypresses, set in such order and harmony that even the -very branches of each seem to grow uniformly, and none dares in the -slightest to exceed or go beyond another. The space there is between -cypress and cypress is closed and occupied by a thousand fragrant -rose-bushes and pleasing jessamine, so close and interwoven as thorny -brambles and prickly briars are wont to be in the hedges of guarded -vineyards. From point to point of these peaceful openings are seen -running through the short green grass clear cool streamlets of pure -sweet waters, which have their birth on the slopes of the same hills. -The goal and end of these roads is a wide round space formed by the -declivities and cypresses, in the midst of which is placed a fountain -of cunning workmanship, built of white and costly marble, made with -such skill and cunning that the beauteous fountains of renowned Tibur, -and the proud ones of ancient Trinacria cannot be compared to it. -With the water of this wondrous fountain are moistened and sustained -the cool grasses of the delightful spot, and what makes this pleasing -situation the more worthy of esteem and reverence is that it is exempt -from the greedy mouths of simple lambs and gentle sheep, and from any -other kind of flock; for it serves alone as guardian and treasure-house -of the honoured bones of any famous shepherds, who, by the general -decree of all the survivors in the neighbourhood are determined and -ordained to be worthy and deserving of receiving burial in this famous -valley. Therefore there were seen between the many different trees that -were behind the cypresses, in the space and expanse there was from -them to the slopes of the hills, some tombs, made one of jasper and -another of marble, on the white stones of which one read the names of -those who were buried in them. But the tomb which shone most above all, -and that which showed itself most to the eyes of all, was that of the -famous shepherd Meliso, which, apart from the others, was seen on one -side of the broad space, made of smooth black slates and of white and -well-fashioned alabaster. And at the very moment the eyes of Telesio -beheld it, he turned his face to all that pleasing company, and said to -them with peaceful voice and piteous tones: - -'There you see, gallant shepherds, discreet and fair shepherdesses, -there you see, I say, the sad tomb wherein repose the honoured bones of -the renowned Meliso, honour and glory of our banks. Begin then to raise -to Heaven your humble hearts, and with pure purpose, copious tears and -deep sighs, intone your holy hymns and devout prayers, and ask Heaven -to consent to receive in its starry abode the blessed soul of the body -that lies there.' - -As he said this, he went up to one of the cypresses, and cutting some -branches, he made from them a mournful garland wherewith he crowned -his white and venerable brow, beckoning to the others to do the same. -All, moved by his example, in one moment crowned themselves with the -sad branches, and guided by Telesio, went up to the tomb, where the -first thing Telesio did was to bend the knee and kiss the hard stone of -the tomb. All did the same, and some there were who, made tender by -the memory of Meliso, left the white marble they were kissing bedewed -with tears. This being done, Telesio bade the sacred fire be kindled, -and in a moment around the tomb were made many, though small, bonfires, -in which only branches of cypress were burned; and the venerable -Telesio began with solemn and peaceful steps to circle the pyre, and -to cast into all the glowing fires a quantity of sacred sweet-smelling -incense, uttering each time he scattered it, some short and devout -prayer for the departed soul of Meliso, at the end of which he would -raise his trembling voice, all the bystanders with sad and piteous -tone replying thrice 'Amen, amen,' to the mournful sound of which the -neighbouring hills and distant valleys re-echoed, and the branches of -the tall cypresses and of the many other trees of which the valley was -full, stricken by a gentle breeze that blew, made and formed a dull -and saddest whisper, almost as if in token that they for their part -shared the sadness of the funereal sacrifice. Thrice Telesio circled -the tomb, and thrice he uttered the piteous prayers, and nine times -more were heard the mournful tones of the amen which the shepherds -repeated. This ceremony ended, the aged Telesio leaned against a lofty -cypress which rose at the head of Meliso's tomb, and by turning his -face on every side caused the bystanders to attend to what he wished -to say, and straightway raising his voice as much as the great number -of his years could allow, with marvellous eloquence he began to praise -Meliso's virtues, the integrity of his blameless life, the loftiness -of his intellect, the constancy of his soul, the graceful gravity of -his discourse, and the excellence of his poetry, and above all the -solicitude of his breast to keep and fulfil the holy religion he had -professed, joining to these other virtues of Meliso of such a kind and -so great that, though the shepherd had not been well known by all who -were listening to Telesio, merely by what he was saying, they would -have been inspired to love him, if he had been alive, and to reverence -him after death. The old man then ended his discourse saying: - -'If the lowliness of my dull understanding, famous shepherds, were to -attain to where Meliso's excellences attained, and to where attains -the desire I have to praise them, and if the weak and scanty strength -begotten by many weary years did not cut short my voice and breath, -sooner would you see this sun that illumines us bathing once and again -in the mighty ocean, than I should cease from my discourse begun; but -since in my withered age this is not allowed, do you supply what I -lack, and show yourselves grateful to Meliso's cold ashes, praising -them in death as the love constrains you that he had for you in life. -And though a part of this duty touches and concerns us all in general, -those whom it concerns more particularly are the famous Thyrsis and -Damon, as being so well acquainted with him, such friends, such -intimates; and so I beg them, as urgently as I can, to respond to this -obligation, supplying in song with voice more calm and resounding what -I have failed to do by my tears with my faltering one.' - -Telesio said no more, nor indeed had there been need to say it in -order that the shepherds might be moved to do what he bade them, for -straightway, without making any reply, Thyrsis drew forth his rebeck, -and beckoned to Damon to do the same. They were accompanied straightway -by Elicio and Lauso, and all the shepherds who had instruments there; -and in a little while they made music so sad and pleasing, that though -it delighted the ears, it moved the hearts to give forth tokens of -sadness with the tears the eyes were shedding. To this was joined the -sweet harmony of the little painted birds, that were flitting through -the air, and some sobs that the shepherdesses, already made tender and -moved by Telesio's discourse, and by what the shepherds were doing, -wrung from time to time from their lovely breasts; and it was of such -a kind that the sound of the sad music and that of the sad harmony of -the linnets, larks, and nightingales, and the bitter sound of the deep -groans joining in unison, all formed together a concert so strange and -mournful, that there is no tongue that could describe it. A little -while after, the other instruments ceasing, only the four of Thyrsis, -Damon, Elicio, and Lauso were heard. These going up to Meliso's tomb, -placed themselves on its four sides, a token from which all present -understood that they were about to sing something. And so they lent -them silence marvellous and subdued, and straightway the famous -Thyrsis, aided by Elicio, Damon, and Lauso, began, with voice loud, sad -and resounding, to sing in this wise: - -THYRSIS. - Such is the cause of our grief-stricken moan, - Not ours alone, but all the world's as well, - Shepherds, your sad and mournful chant intone! - -DAMON. - Let our sighs break the air, and let them swell - E'en unto Heaven in wailings, fashionèd - From righteous love and grief unspeakable! - -ELICIO. - Mine eyes the tender dew shall ever shed - Of loving tears, until the memory, - Meliso, of thine exploits shall be dead. - -LAUSO. - Meliso, worthy deathless history, - Worthy to enjoy on holy Heaven's throne - Glory and life through all eternity. - -THYRSIS. - - What time I raise myself to heights unknown - That I may sing his deeds as I think best, - Shepherds, your sad and mournful chant intone! - -DAMON. - With welling tears, Meliso, that ne'er rest, - As best I can, thy friendship I reward, - With pious prayers, and holy incense blest. - -ELICIO. - Thy death, alas! our happiness hath marred, - And hath to mourning changed our past delight, - Unto a tender grief that presseth hard. - -LAUSO. - Those fair and blissful days when all was bright, - When the world revelled in thy presence sweet, - Have been transformed to cold and wretched night. - -THYRSIS. - Oh Death, that with thy violence so fleet - Didst such a life to lowly earth restore,-- - What man will not thy diligence defeat? - -DAMON. - Since thou, oh Death, didst deal that blow with power, - Which brought to earth our stay 'midst fortune's stress, - Ne'er is the meadow clad with grass or flower. - -ELICIO. - Ever this woe remembering, I repress - My bliss, if any bliss my feeling knows, - Myself I harrow with new bitterness. - -LAUSO. - When is lost bliss recovered? Do not woes, - E'en though we seek them not, ever assail? - When amidst mortal strife find we repose? - -THYRSIS. - When in the mortal fray did life prevail? - And when was Time, that swiftly flies away, - By harness stout withstood, or coat of mail? - -DAMON. - Our life is but a dream, an idle play, - A vain enchantment that doth disappear, - What time it seemed the firmest in its day. - -ELICIO. - A day that darkeneth in mid career, - And on its track close follows gloomy night, - Veiled in shadows born of chilly fear. - -LAUSO. - But thou, renownèd shepherd, in a bright - And happy hour didst from this raging sea - Pass to the wondrous regions of delight. - -THYRSIS. - After that thou hadst heard and judged the plea - Of the great shepherd of the Spanish plain - In the Venetian[117] sheepfold righteously. - - -DAMON. - And after thou hadst bravely borne the pain, - E'en the untimely stroke of Fortune fell, - Which made Italia sad, and even Spain. - -ELICIO. - After thou hadst withdrawn so long to dwell, - With the nine maidens on Parnassus' crest, - In solitude and calm unspeakable; - -LAUSO. - Despite the clang of weapons from the East - And Gallic rage, thy lofty spirit lay - Tranquil, naught moved it from its peaceful rest. - -THYRSIS. - 'Twas then Heaven willed, upon a mournful day, - That the cold hand of wrathful death should come, - And with thy life our bliss should snatch away. - -DAMON. - Thy bliss was better, thou didst seek thy home, - But we were left to bitterness untold, - Unending and eternal was our doom. - -ELICIO. - The sacred maiden choir we did behold - Of those that dwell upon Parnassus' height - Rending in agony their locks of gold. - -LAUSO. - The blind boy's mighty rival by thy plight - Was moved to tears; then to the world below - He showed himself a niggard of his light. - -THYRSIS. - Amidst the clash of arms, the fiery glow, - By reason of the wily Greek's deceit, - The Teucrians sad felt not so great a woe, - - As those who wept, as those who did repeat - Meliso's name, the shepherds, in the hour - When of his death the tidings did them greet. - -DAMON. - Their brows with fragrant varied flowers no more - Did they adorn, with mellow voice no song - Sang they of love as in the days of yore. - - Around their brows the mournful cypress clung, - And in sad oft-repeated bitter moan - They chanted lays of grief with sorrowing tongue. - -ELICIO. - Wherefore, since we to-day once more have shown - That we are mindful of our cruel wound, - Shepherds, your sad and mournful chant intone! - - The bitter plight that fills with grief profound - Our souls, is such that adamant will be - The breast wherein no place for tears is found. - -LAUSO. - Let countless tongues the soul of constancy - Extol in song, the loyal breast he showed, - Undaunted ever in adversity. - - Against the cruel disdain that ever glowed - Within the wrathful breast of Phyllis sweet, - Firm as a rock against the sea, he stood. - -THYRSIS. - The verses he hath sung let all repeat, - Let them, as tokens of his genius rare, - In the world's memory find eternal seat. - -DAMON. - Let Fame, that spreadeth tidings everywhere, - Through lands that differ far from ours, his name - With rapid steps and busy pinions bear. - -ELICIO. - From his most chaste and love-enraptured flame - Let the most wanton breast example take, - And that which fire less perfect doth inflame. - -LAUSO. - Blessèd art thou, though fortune did forsake - Thee countless times, for thou dost joyous live, - No shadow now doth thy contentment break. - -THYRSIS. - This mortal lowliness that thou didst leave - Behind, more full of changes than the moon, - Little doth weary thee, doth little grieve. - -DAMON. - Humility thou changedst for the boon - Of loftiness, evil for good, and death - For life--thy fears and hopes were surely one. - -ELICIO. - He who lives well, though he in semblance hath - Fallen, doth soar to Heaven on lofty wing, - As thou, Meliso, by the flowery path. - - There, there, from throats immortal issuing, - The voice resounds, that glory doth recite, - Glory repeateth, glory sweet doth sing. - - There the serene fair countenance and bright - We see, and in the sight thereof behold - Glory's supreme perfection with delight. - - My feeble voice to praise thee waxeth bold, - Yet, e'en as my desire doth greater grow, - In check my fear, Meliso, doth it hold. - - For that which I, with mind uplifted, now - View of that hallowed mind of thine, and see - Exalted far above all human show, - - Hath made my mind a coward utterly; - I may but press my lips together, may - But raise my brows in wondering ecstasy. - -LAUSO. - When thou dost go, thou fillest with dismay - All who their pleasure in thy presence sought; - Evil draws nigh, for thou dost go away. - -THYRSIS. - In days gone by the rustic shepherds taught - Themselves thy wisdom, in that self-same hour - They gained new understanding, wiser thought. - - But, ah! there came the inevitable hour, - When thou departedst, and we did remain, - With hearts dead, and with minds bereft of power. - - We celebrate this memory of pain, - We who our love for thee in life have shown, - E'en as in death we mourn thee once again. - - So to the sound of your confusèd moan, - New breath the while receiving ceaselessly, - Shepherds, your sad and mournful chant intone! - - Even as is the bitter agony, - So be the welling tears, so be the sighs, - Wherewith the wind is swollen that hastens by. - - Little I ask, little the boon I prize, - But ye must feel all that my tongue to you - Can now unfold with feeble, stammering cries. - - But Phoebus now departs, and robs of hue - The earth that doth her sable mantle don. - So till the longed-for dawn shall come anew, - Shepherds, no more your mournful chant intone! - -Thyrsis, who had begun the sad and mournful elegy, was the one who -ended it, without any of those that had listened to the lamentable song -ending their tears for a good while. But at this moment the venerable -Telesio said to them: - -'Since we have in part, gallant and courteous shepherds, complied with -the debt we owe the blessed Meliso, impose silence for the nonce on -your tender tears, and give some truce to your grievous sighs, since by -neither can we make good the loss we bewail; and though human sorrow -cannot fail to show sorrow when ill befalls, yet it is necessary to -temper the excess of its attacks with the reason that attends on the -discreet. And although tears and sighs are tokens of the love cherished -for him who is bewailed, the souls for which they are shed gain more -profit by the pious sacrifices and devout prayers which are offered -for them, than if all the ocean main were to be made tears and distil -through the eyes of all the world. And for this cause and because we -must give some relief to our wearied bodies, it will be well to leave -what remains for us to do till the coming day, and for the present to -make a call on your wallets, and comply with what nature enjoins on -you.' - -And in saying this, he gave orders for all the shepherdesses to abide -on one side of the valley near Meliso's tomb, leaving with them six -of the oldest shepherds who were there, and the rest were in another -part a little way from them. And straightway with what they carried in -their wallets and with the water of the clear spring they satisfied -the common necessity of hunger, ending at a time when already night -was clothing with one same colour all things contained beneath our -horizon, and the shining moon was showing her fair and radiant face in -all the fulness she has when most her ruddy brother imparts to her his -rays. But a little while after, a troubled wind arising, there began -to be seen some black clouds, which in a measure hid the light of the -chaste goddess, making shadows on the earth; tokens from which some -shepherds who were there, masters in rustic astrology, expected some -coming hurricane and tempest. But all ended only in the night remaining -grey and calm, and in their settling down to rest on the cool grass, -yielding their eyes to sweet and peaceful slumber, as all did save -some who shared as sentinels the guardianship of the shepherdesses, -and save the guardian of some torches that were left blazing round -Meliso's tomb. But now that calm silence prevailed through all that -sacred valley, and now that slothful Morpheus had with his moist branch -touched the brows and eyelids of all those present, at a time when the -wandering stars had gone a good way round our pole, marking out the -punctual courses of the night: at that moment from the very tomb of -Meliso arose a great and wondrous fire, so bright and shining that in -an instant all the dark valley was in such brightness, as if the very -sun had illumined it. By which sudden marvel the shepherds who were -awake near the tomb, fell astonished to the ground dazzled and blind -with the light of the transparent fire, which produced a contrary -effect in the others who were sleeping; for when they were stricken by -its rays, heavy slumber fled from them, and they opened, though with -some difficulty, their sleeping eyes, and seeing the strangeness of the -light that revealed itself to them, remained confounded and amazed; -and so, one standing, another reclining, another kneeling, each gazed -on the bright fire with amazement and terror. Telesio seeing all this, -arraying himself in a moment in the sacred vestments, accompanied by -Elicio, Thyrsis, Damon, Lauso, and other spirited shepherds, gradually -began to draw nigh to the fire, with the intention of seeking with some -lawful and fitting exorcisms to extinguish, or to understand whence -came the strange vision which showed itself to them. But when they -were drawing nigh to the glowing flames, they saw them dividing into -two parts, and in their midst appearing a nymph so fair and graceful, -that it set them in greater wonder than the sight of the blazing fire; -she appeared clad in a rich and fine web of silver, gathered and drawn -up at the waist in such wise that half of her legs revealed themselves -arrayed in buskins or close-fitting foot-gear, gilded and full of -countless knots of variegated ribbons. Over the silver web she wore -another vestment of green and delicate silk, which, wafted from side to -side by a light breeze that was gently blowing, seemed most exquisite. -She wore scattered over her shoulders the longest and the ruddiest -locks that human eyes ever saw, and upon them a garland made of green -laurel only. Her right hand was occupied by a tall branch of the yellow -palm of victory, and her left with another of the green olive of peace. -And with these adornments she showed herself so fair and wonderful, -that all that beheld her she kept rapt by her appearance in such wise -that, casting from them their first fear, they approached with sure -steps the neighbourhood of the fire, persuading themselves that from so -fair a vision no harm could happen to them. And all being, as has been -said, ravished to see her, the beauteous nymph opened her arms on each -side, and made the divided flames divide the more and part, to give an -opportunity that she might the better be seen; and straightway raising -her calm countenance, with grace and strange dignity she began words -such as these: - -'By the results that my unexpected appearance has caused in your -hearts, discreet and pleasing company, you can gather that it is not by -virtue of evil spirits that this form of mine has been fashioned which -presents itself here to you; for one of the means by which we recognise -whether a vision be good or bad, is by the results it produces on the -mind of him who beholds it. For in the case of the good, though it -cause in him wonder and alarm, such wonder and alarm comes mingled with -a pleasant disturbance which in a little while calms and satisfies -him, contrary to what is caused by the malignant vision, which brings -alarm, discontent, terror, but never assurance. Experience will make -clear to you this truth when you know me, and when I tell you who I am, -and the cause that has moved me to come from my distant dwelling-place -to visit you. And because I do not wish to keep you in suspense with -the desire you have to know who I am, know, discreet shepherds and -beauteous shepherdesses, that I am one of the nine maidens, who on the -lofty and sacred peaks of Parnassus have their own and famous abode. -My name is Calliope, my duty and disposition it is to favour and aid -the divine spirits, whose laudable practice it is to busy themselves -in the marvellous and never duly lauded science of poetry. I am she -who made the old blind man of Smyrna, famous only through him, win -eternal fame; she who will make the Mantuan Tityrus live for all the -ages to come, until time end; and she who makes the writings, as -uncouth as learned, of the most ancient Ennius, to be esteemed from the -past to the present age. In short, I am she who favoured Catullus, she -who made Horace renowned, Propertius eternal, and I am she who with -immortal fame has preserved the memory of the renowned Petrarch, and -she who made the famous Dante descend to the dark circles of Hell, and -ascend to the bright spheres of Heaven. I am she who aided the divine -Ariosto to weave the varied and fair web he fashioned; she who in this -country of yours had intimate friendship with the witty Boscan, and -with the famous Garcilaso, with the learned and wise Castillejo, and -the ingenious Torres Naharro, by whose intellects and by their fruits -your country was enriched and I satisfied. I am she who moved the pen -of the celebrated Aldana, and that which never left the side of Don -Fernando de Acuña; and she who prides herself on the close friendship -and converse she always had with the blessed soul of the body that lies -in this tomb. The funeral rites performed by you in his honour not only -have gladdened his spirit, which now paces through the eternal realm, -but have so satisfied me that I have come perforce to thank you for -so laudable and pious a custom as this is, which is in use among you. -Therefore I promise you, with the sincerity that can be expected from -my virtue, in reward for the kindness you have shown to the ashes of -my dear beloved Meliso, always to bring it to pass that on your banks -there may never be wanting shepherds to excel all those of the other -banks in the joyous science of poetry. I will likewise always favour -your counsels, and guide your understanding so that you may never -give an unjust vote, when you decide who is deserving of being buried -in this sacred valley; for it will not be right that an honour, so -special and distinguished, and one which is only deserved by white and -tuneful swans, should come to be enjoyed by black and hoarse crows. And -so it seems to me that it will be right to give you some information -now about some distinguished men who live in this Spain of yours, and -about some in the distant Indies subject to her; and if all or any one -of these should be brought by his good fortune to end the course of -his days on these banks, without any doubt you can grant him burial -in this famous spot. Together with this I wish to warn you not to -think the first I shall name worthy of more honour than the last, for -herein I do not intend to keep any order, because, though I understand -the difference between the one and the other, and the others among -themselves, I wish to leave the decision of it in doubt, in order that -your intellects may have something to practise on in understanding the -difference of theirs, of which their works will give proof. I shall -go through their names as they come to my memory, so that none may -claim that it is a favour I have done him in having remembered him -before another, for, as I tell you, discreet shepherds, I leave you to -give them afterwards the place which seems to you to be due to them of -right; and, in order that with less trouble and annoyance you may be -attentive to my long narration, I will make it of such a kind that you -may only feel displeasure at its brevity.' - -The fair nymph, having said this, was silent and straightway took a -harp she had beside her, which up till that time had been seen by no -one, and, as she began to play it, it seemed that the sky began to -brighten, and that the moon illumined the earth with new and unwonted -splendour; the trees, despite a gentle breeze that was blowing, held -their branches still; and the eyes of all who were there did not dare -to lower their lids, in order that for the little while they lingered -in raising, they might not be robbed of the glory they enjoyed in -beholding the beauty of the nymph, and indeed all would have wished all -their five senses to be changed into that of hearing only; with such -strangeness, with such sweetness, with so great a charm did the fair -muse play her harp. After she had sounded a few chords, with the most -resounding voice that could be imagined, she began with verses such as -these: - - CALLIOPE'S SONG. - - To the sweet sound of my harmonious lyre, - Shepherds, I pray you lend attentive ear, - The hallowed breath of the Castalian choir - Breathing therein and in my voice ye'll hear: - Lo! it will make you wonder and admire - With souls enraptured and with happy fear, - What time I do recount to you on earth - The geniuses that Heaven claims for their worth. - - It is my purpose but of those to sing - Of whose life Fate hath not yet cut the thread, - Of those who rightly merit ye should bring - Their ashes to this place when they are dead, - Where, despite busy Time on hasty wing, - Through this praiseworthy duty renderèd - By you, for countless years may live their fame, - Their radiant work, and their renownèd name. - - And he who doth with righteous title merit - Of high renown to win a noble store, - Is DON ALONSO;[118] he 'tis doth inherit - From holy Phoebus heavenly wisdom's flower, - In whom shineth with lofty glow the spirit - Of warlike Mars, and his unrivalled power, - LEIVA his surname in whose glorious sound - Italy, Spain herself, hath lustre found. - - Arauco's wars and Spanish worth hath sung - Another who the name ALONSO hath. - Far hath he wandered all the realms among - Where Glaucus dwells, and felt his furious wrath; - His voice was not untuned, nor was his tongue, - For full of strange and wondrous grace were both, - Wherefore ERCILLA[119] doth deserve to gain - Memorial everlasting in this plain. - - Of JUAN DE SILVA[120] I to you declare - That he deserves all glory and all praise, - Not only for that Phoebus holds him dear, - But for the worth that is in him always; - Thereto his works a testimony clear - Will be, wherein his intellect doth blaze - With brightness which illumineth the eyes - Of fools, dazzling at times the keen and wise. - - Be the rich number of my list increased - By him to whom Heaven doth such favour show - That by the breath of Phoebus is his breast - Sustained, and by Mars' valour here below; - Thou matchest Homer, if thou purposest - To write, thy pen unto such heights doth go, - DIEGO OSORIO,[121] that to all mankind - Truly is known thy loftiness of mind. - - By all the ways whereby much-speaking fame - A cavalier illustrious can praise, - By these it doth his glorious worth proclaim, - His deeds the while setting his name ablaze; - His lively wit, his virtue doth inflame - More than one tongue from height to height to raise - FRANCISCO DE MENDOZA'S[122] high career, - Nor doth the flight of time bring them to fear. - - Happy DON DIEGO, DE SARMIENTO[123] bright, - CARVAJAL famous, nursling of our choir, - Of Hippocrene the radiance and delight, - Youthful in years, old in poetic fire; - Thy name will go from age to age, despite - The waters of oblivion, rising higher, - Made famous by thy works, from grace to grace, - From tongue to tongue, and from race unto race. - - Now chief of all I would to you display - Ripeness of intellect in tender years, - Gallantry, skill that no man can gainsay, - A bearing courteous, worth that knows no fears; - One that in Tuscan, as in Spanish, may - His talent show, as he who did rehearse - The tale of Este's line and did enthral, - And he is DON GUTIERRE CARVAJAL.[124] - - LUIS DE VARGAS,[125] thou in whom I see - A genius ripe in thy few tender days, - Strive thou to win the prize of victory, - The guerdon of my sisters and their praise; - So near are thou thereto, that thou to me - Seemest triumphant, for in countless ways - Virtuous and wise, thou strivest that thy fame - May brightly shine with clear and living flame. - - Honour doth Tagus' beauteous bank receive - From countless heavenly spirits dwelling there, - Who make this present age wherein we live, - Than that of Greeks and Romans happier; - Concerning them this message do I give - That they are worthy of sepulture here, - And proof thereof their works have to us given, - Which point us out the way that leads to Heaven. - - Two famous doctors first themselves present, - In Phoebus' sciences of foremost name, - The twain in age alone are different, - In character and wit they are the same; - All near and far they fill with wonderment, - They win amongst their fellows so much fame - By their exalted wisdom and profound - That soon they needs must all the world astound. - - The name that cometh first into my song, - Of the twain whom I now to praise make bold, - Is CAMPUZANO,[126] great the great among, - Whom as a second Phoebus ye can hold; - His lofty wit, his more than human tongue, - Doth a new universe to us unfold - Of Indies and of glories better far, - As better than gold is wisdom's guiding star. - - Doctor SUÁREZ is the next I sing, - And SOSA[127] is the name he adds thereto-- - He who with skilful tongue doth everything - That free from blemish is and best, pursue; - Whoso should quench within the wondrous spring - His thirst, as he did, will not need to view - With eye of envy learnèd Homer's praise, - Nor his who sang to us of Troy ablaze. - - Of Doctor BAZA,[128] if of him I might - Say what I feel, I without doubt maintain, - That I would fill all present with delight; - His learning, virtue, and his charm are plain - First have I been to raise him to the height - Where now he stands, and I am she who fain - Would make his name eternal whilst the Lord - Of Delos shall his radiant light afford. - - If fame should bring the tidings to your ear - Of the strange works a famous mind displays, - Conceptions lofty, well-ordered, and clear, - Learning that would the listener amaze; - Things that the thought checketh in mid career, - And tongue cannot express, but straightway stays-- - Whene'er ye are in trouble and in doubt - 'Tis the Licentiate DAZA[129] leads you out. - - Master GARAI'S[130] melodious works incite - Me to extol him more than all beside; - Thou, fame, excelling time of hasty flight, - His celebration deem a work of praise; - Fame, thou wilt find the fame he gives more bright - Than is thine own in spreading far and wide - His praise, for thou must, speaking of his fame, - From many-tongued to truthful change thy name. - - That intellect, which, leaving far behind - Man's greatest, doth to the divine aspire, - Which in Castilian doth no pleasure find-- - The heroic verse of Rome doth him inspire; - New Homer in Mantuan new combined - Is Master CÓRDOVA.[131] Worthy his lyre - Of praise in happy Spain, in every land, - Where shines the sun, where ocean laves the strand. - - Doctor FRANCISCO DÍAZ,[132] I can well - Assure my shepherds here concerning thee, - That with glad heart and joy unspeakable - They can thy praises sing unceasingly; - And if I do not on thy praises dwell-- - The highest is thy due, and worthily-- - 'Tis that our time is short, nor do I know - How I can e'er repay thee what I owe. - - LUJÁN,[133] who with thy toga merited - Dost thine own Spain and foreign lands delight. - - Who with thy sweet and well-known muse dost spread - Thy fame abroad to Heaven's loftiest height, - Life shall I give thee after thou art dead, - And I shall cause, in swift and rapid flight, - The fame of thine unequalled mind to roll - And spread from ours unto the opposing pole. - - His lofty mind doth a Licentiate show, - And worth,--'tis a beloved friend of yours-- - I mean JUAN DE VERGARA,[134] whom ye know, - An honour to this happy land of ours; - By a clear open pathway he doth go, - 'Tis I that guide aright his steps and powers. - Unto his height to rise is my reward, - His mind and virtue joy to me afford. - - That my bold song may praise and glory gain, - Another shall I name to you, from whom - My song to-day shall greater force attain - And to the height of my desire shall come; - And this it is that maketh me refrain - From more than naming him and finding room - To sing how lofty genius hath been sung - By DON ALONSO DE MORALES'[135] tongue. - - Over the rugged steep unto the fane - Where dwelleth fame, there climbs and draweth near - A noble youth, who breaks with might and main - Though every hindrance, though 'tis fraught with fear, - And needs must come so nigh that it is plain - That fame doth in prophetic song declare - The laurel which it hath prepared ere now, - HERNANDO MALDONADO,[136] is for thy brow. - - Adorned with noble laurel here ye see - His learned brow, who hath such glory found - In every science, every art, that he - O'er all the globe is even now renowned; - Oh golden age, oh happy century, - With such a man as this worthily crowned! - What century, what age doth with thee vie, - When MARCO ANTONIO DE LA VEGA[137]'s nigh? - - A DIEGO is the next I call to mind, - Who hath in truth MENDOZA[138] for his name, - Worthy that history should her maker find - In him alone, and soar as soars his fame; - His learning and his virtue, which, enshrined - In every heart, the whole world doth acclaim, - Absent and present both alike astound, - Whether in near or distant nations found. - - High Phoebus an acquaintance doth possess-- - Acquaintance say I? Nay, a trusty friend, - In whom alone he findeth happiness, - A treasurer of knowledge without end; - 'Tis he who of set purpose doth repress - Himself, so that his all he may not spend, - DIEGO DURÁN,[139] in whom we ever find, - And shall find, wisdom, worth, and force of mind. - - But who is he who sings his agonies - With voice resounding, and with matchless taste? - Phoebus, and sage Arion, Orpheus wise, - Find ever their abode within his breast; - E'en from the realms where first the dawn doth rise, - Unto the distant regions of the west. - - Is he renowned and loved right loyally, - For, LÓPEZ MALDONADO,[140] thou art he. - - Who could the praises, shepherds mine, recite - Of him ye love, a shepherd crowned by fame, - Brightest of all the shepherds that are bright, - Who is to all known by FILIDA'S name? - The skill, the learning and the choice delight, - The rare intelligence, the heart aflame, - Of LUIS DE MONTALVO[141] aye assure - Glory and honour whilst the heavens endure. - - His temples now let holy Ebro bind - With ivy evergreen and olive white, - And with acanthus golden, may he find - In joyous song his fame forever bright: - The fruitful Nile hath his renown resigned, - For Ebro's ancient worth to such a height - PEDRO DE LIÑÁN'S[142] subtle pen doth lift, - Sum of the bliss which is Apollo's gift. - - I think upon the lofty soul and rare - By DON ALONSO DE VALDÉS[143] possessed, - And am spurred on to sing and to declare - That he excels the rarest and the best; - This hath he shown already, and more clear - By the elegance and grace wherewith his breast - He doth reveal, with bitter pangs distraught, - Praising the ill that cruel Love hath wrought. - - Before an intellect in wonder bow, - Wherein all that the wish can ask is found. - - An intellect, that though it liveth now - On earth, is with the pomp of Heaven crowned; - All that I see and hear and read and know - Of PEDRO DE PADILLA[144] the renowned, - Whether he treat of peace or war's alarm, - Brings fresh delight and wonder by its charm. - - GASPAR ALFONSO,[145] thou who wingst thy flight - Unto the immortal realms, so orderest - That I can scarce thy praises all recite, - If I must praise thee as thou meritest; - The pleasing, fruitful plants that on the height - Of our renowned Parnassus find their nest, - All offer wealthy laurels for a crown - To circle and adorn thy brows alone. - - Of CRISTOVAL DE MESA[146] I can say - That to your vale he will an honour be; - While he is living, nay, when life away - Hath fled, still ye can praise him fittingly; - His lofty weighty style can win to-day - Renown and honour, and the melody - Of his heroic verse, though silent fame - Remain, and I remember not his name. - - DON PEDRO DE RIBERA[147] doth, ye know, - Wealth to your banks, and beauty, shepherds, bring, - Wherefore give him the honour that ye owe, - For I will be the first his praise to sing: - His virtue, his sweet muse doth clearly show - A noble subject, where, on noisy wing, - Fame, hundred thousand fames, their powers might spend - And strive his praises only to extend. - - Thou, who didst bring the treasure manifold - Of verse in a new form the shores unto - Of the fair fruitful stream, whose bed of gold - Maketh it famous wheresoe'er it flow, - Thy glorious fame I promise to uphold - With the applause and reverence that we owe - To thee, CALDERA,[148] and thy peerless mind; - With laurel, ivy, I thy brows shall bind. - - Let fame, and let the memory I possess, - For ever famous make the memory - Of him who hath transformed to loveliness - The glory of our Christian poesy; - The knowledge and the charm let all confess, - From the dayspring to where the day doth die, - Of great FRANCISCO DE GUZMÁN,[149] whose are - The arts of Phoebus as the arts of war. - - Of the Captain SALCEDO[150] 'tis quite clear - That his celestial genius doth attain - Unto the point most lofty, keen and rare, - That can be fancied by the thought of man; - If I compare him, him I do compare - Unto himself--Comparisons, 'tis plain, - Are useless, and to measure worth so true, - All measures must be faulty, or askew. - - By reason of the wit and curious grace - Of TOMÁS DE GRACIÁN,[151] I pray, permit - That I should choose within this vale a place - Which shall his virtue, knowledge, worth, befit; - And if it run with his deserts apace, - 'Twill be so lofty and so exquisite - That few, methinks, may hope with him to vie, - His genius and his virtues soar so high. - - Fain would BAPTISTA DE VIVAR[152] you praise, - Sisters, with unpremeditated lyre; - Such grace, discretion, prudence, he displays, - That, muses though ye be, ye can admire; - He will not hymn Narcissus in his lays - Nor the disdains that lonely Echo tire, - But he will sing his cares which had their birth - 'Twixt sad forgetfulness and hope of mirth. - - Now terror new, now new alarm and fear - Cometh upon me and o'erpowereth me, - Only because I would, yet cannot bear - Unto the loftiest heights of dignity - Grave BALTASAR, who doth as surname wear - TOLEDO,[153] though my fancy whispereth me - That of his learned quill the lofty flight - Must bear him soon to the empyrean height. - - There is a mind wherein experience shows - That knowledge findeth fitting dwelling-place, - Not only in ripe age amidst the snows, - But in green years, in early youthful days; - With no man shall I argue, or oppose - A truth so plain, the more because my praise, - If it perchance unto his ears be brought, - Thine honour hath, LOPE DE VEGA,[154] sought. - - Now holy Betis to my fancy's eye - Presents himself with peaceful olive crowned, - Making his plaint that I have passed him by,-- - His angry words now in my ears resound-- - He asks that in this narrative, where I - Speak of rare intellects, place should be found - For those that dwell upon his banks, and so - With voice sonorous I his will shall do. - - But what am I to do? For when I seek - To start, a thousand wonders I divine. - - Many a Pindus' or Parnassus' peak, - And choirs of lovelier sisters than the nine, - Whereat my lofty spirits faint and weak - Become, and more when by some strange design - I hear a sound repeated as in echo, - Whene'er the name is namèd of PACHECO.[155] - - PACHECO 'tis whom Phoebus calls his friend, - On whom he and my sisters so discreet - Did from his feeble tender years attend - With new affection and new converse sweet; - I too his genius and his writings send - By strange paths never trod by mortal feet, - And ever have sent, till they rise on high - Unto the loftiest place of dignity. - - Unto this pass I come, that, though I sing - With all my powers divine HERRERA'S[156] praise, - My wearied toil but little fruit will bring, - Although to the fifth sphere my words him raise; - But, should friendship's suspicions to me cling, - Upon his works and his true glory gaze, - HERNANDO doth by learning all enthral - From Ganges unto Nile, from pole to pole. - - FERNANDO would I name to you again - DE CANGAS[157] surnamed, whom the world admires. - - Through whom the learning lives and doth sustain - Itself that to the hallowed bays aspires; - If there be any intellect that fain - Would lift its gaze to the celestial fires, - Let it but gaze on him, and it will find - The loftiest and the most ingenious mind. - - Concerning CRISTÓVAL, who hath the name - Of DE VILLAROEL,[158] ye must believe - That he full well deserveth that his name - Ne'er should oblivion's gloomy waters cleave; - His wit let all admire, his worth acclaim - With awe, his wit and worth let all receive - As the most exquisite we can discover, - Where'er the sun doth shine, or earth doth cover. - - The streams of eloquence which did of old - Flow from the breast of stately Cicero, - Which, gladdening the Athenian people bold, - Did honour on Demosthenes bestow, - The minds o'er whom Time hath already rolled-- - Who bore themselves so proudly long ago-- - Master FRANCISCO DE MEDINA,[159] now - Let them before thy lofty learning bow. - - Rightly thou canst, renownèd Betis, now - With Mincio, Arno, and with Tiber vie, - Uplift in happiness thy hallowed brow, - And spread thee in new bosoms spaciously: - Since Heaven wished, that doth thy bliss allow, - Such fame to give thee, honour, dignity, - As he doth bring unto thy banks so fair, - BALTASAR DEL ALCÁZAR,[160] who dwells there. - - Another ye will see, summed up in whom - Apollo's rarest learning will ye see, - Which doth the semblance of itself assume, - When spread through countless others it may be; - In him 'tis greater, in him it doth come - To such a height of excellence that he, - The Licentiate MOSQUERA[161] well can claim - To rival e'en Apollo's self in fame. - - Behold! yon prudent man who doth adorn - And deck with sciences his limpid breast, - Shrinks not from gazing on the fountain born - In wisdom's waters from our mountain's crest; - In the clear peerless stream he doth not scorn - To quench his thirst, and thus thou flourishest, - DOMINGO DE BECERRA,[162] here on earth, - For all recount the mighty doctor's worth. - - Words I might speak of famous ESPINEL[163] - That pass beyond the wit of human kind, - Concerning all the sciences that dwell, - Nurtured by Phoebus' breath, within his mind; - But since my tongue the least part cannot tell - Of the great things that in my soul I find, - I say no more save that he doth aspire - To Heaven, whether he take his pen or lyre. - - If ruddy Phoebus ye would fain espy - With blood-red Mars in equal balance weighed, - On great CARRANZA[164] seek to cast an eye, - In whom each hath his constant dwelling made; - With such discretion, art, dexterity, - Hath he his power o'er pen and lance displayed - That the dexterity once cleft apart - He hath brought back to science and to art. - - Of LÁZARO LUIS IRANZO,[165] lyre - Than mine must needs be tuned with better art, - To sing the good that Heaven doth inspire, - The worth that Heaven fosters in his heart: - By Mars' and Phoebus' path he doth inspire - To climb unto the lofty heights apart - Where human thought scarce reacheth, yet, despite - Fortune and fate, he will reach them aright. - - BALTASAR DE ESCOBAR,[166] who doth adorn - The famèd shores of Tiber's stream to-day, - Whom the broad banks of hallowed Betis mourn, - Their beauty lost when he is far away, - A fertile wit, if he perchance return - To his beloved native land, I pay - Unto his youthful and his honoured brow - The laurel and the honour that I owe. - - JUAN SANZ, called DE ZUMETA,[167] with what power, - What honour, palm, or laurel shall be crowned, - If from the Indian to the ruddy Moor - No muse as his so perfect can be found? - Here I anew his fame to him restore - By telling you, my shepherds, how profound - Will be Apollo's joy at any praise - Which ye may bring to swell ZUMETA'S praise. - - Unto JUAN DE LAS CUEVAS[168] fitting place - Give, shepherds, whensoever in this spot - He shall present himself. His muse's grace - And his rare wit this prize for him have wrought; - His works I know, though Time may flee apace, - In Time's despite, shall never be forgot, - From dread oblivion they shall free his name, - Which shall abide with bright and lofty fame. - - If him ye ever see, with honour greet - The famous man, of whom I now shall tell, - And celebrate his praise in verses sweet, - As one who doth therein so much excel; - BIBALDO he--to make my tale complete, - ADAM BIBALDO[169]--who doth gild and swell - The glory of this happy age of ours - With the choice bloom of intellectual powers. - - E'en as is wont to be with varied flowers - Adorned and wealthy made the flowery May, - With many varied sciences and powers - DON JUAN AGUAYO'S[170] intellect is gay; - Though I in praising him might pass the hours, - I say but this, that I now but essay, - And at another time I shall unfold - Things that your hearts with wonderment will hold. - - DON JUAN GUTIÉRREZ RUFO'S[171] famous name - I wish in deathless memory to live, - That wise and foolish may alike acclaim - In wonderment his noble narrative; - Let hallowed Betis give to him the fame - His style doth merit, let them glory give - To him, who know, may Heaven with renown - Equal unto his towering flight him crown. - - In DON LUIS DE GÓNGORA[172] I show - A rare and lively wit that hath no peer, - His works delight me, their wealth I bestow - Not on myself alone, but everywhere; - And if I merit aught, because ye know - My love for you, see that your praises bear - To endless life his lofty love profound - Despite the flight of time and death's cruel wound. - - Let the green laurel, let the ivy green, - Nay, let the sturdy holm-oak crown the brow - Of GONZALO CERVANTES,[173] for I ween - Worthy of being crowned therewith art thou; - More than Apollo's learning in thee seen, - In thee doth Mars the burning ardour show - Of his mad rage, yet with so just a measure - That through thee he inspireth dread and pleasure. - - Thou, who with thy sweet plectrum didst extol - Celidon's name and glory everywhere, - Whose wondrous and well-polished verses call - Thee unto laurels and to triumphs fair. - - GONZALO GRACIÁN,[174] take the coronal, - Sceptre and throne from her who holds thee dear. - In token that the bard of Celidon - Deserveth to be Lord of Helicon. - - Thou, Darro, far renownèd stream of gold, - How well thou canst thyself exalt on high, - And with new current and new strength, behold, - Thou canst e'en with remote Hydaspes vie! - MATEO DE BERRÍO[175] maketh bold - To honour thee with every faculty - So that through him e'en now the voice of fame - Doth spread abroad through all the world thy name. - - Of laurel green a coronal entwine, - That ye therewith the worthy brows may crown - Of SOTO BARAHONA,[176] shepherds mine, - A man of wisdom, eloquence, renown; - Although the holy flood, the fount divine - Of Helicon, should BARAHONA drown, - Mysterious chance! he yet would come to sight - As if he were upon Parnassus' height. - - Within the realms antarctic I might say - That sovereign minds eternal fame attain, - For if these realms abound in wealth to-day, - Minds more than human also they contain; - In many now I can this truth display, - But I can give you plenteous store in twain, - One from New Spain, he an Apollo new, - The other, a sun unrivalled from Peru. - - FRANCISCO DE TERRAZAS[177] is the name - Of one, renowned in Spain and in the West, - New Hippocrene his noble heart aflame - Hath given to his happy native nest; - Unto the other cometh equal fame, - Since by his heavenly genius he hath blest - Far Arequipa with eternal spring-- - DIEGO MARTÍNEZ DE RIBERA[178] I sing. - - Beneath a happy star a radiance bright - Here did flash forth, so rich in signal worth - That his renown its tiniest spark of light - From East to West hath spread o'er all the earth; - And when this light was born, all valorous might - Was born therewith, PICADO[179] had his birth, - Even my brother, Pallas' brother too, - Whose living semblance we in him did view. - - If I must give the glory due to thee, - Great ALONSO DE ESTRADA,[180] thou to-day - Deservest that I should not hurriedly - Thy wisdom and thy wondrous mind display; - Thou dost enrich the land that ceaselessly - To Betis doth a bounteous tribute pay, - Unequal the exchange, for no reward - Can payment for so fair a debt afford. - - DON JUAN, Heaven gave thee as the rare delight - Of this fair country with no grudging hand, - ÁVALOS' glory, and RIBERA'S[181] light, - Honour of Spain, of every foreign land, - Blest Spain, wherein with many a radiance bright - Thy works shall teach the world to understand - All that Nature can give us, rich and free, - Of genius bright and rare nobility. - - He who is happy in his native land, - In Limar's limpid waters revelling, - The cooling winds and the renownèd strand - With his divinest verses gladdening,-- - Let him come, straightway ye will understand - From his spirit and discretion why I sing, - For SANCHO DE RIBERA[182] everywhere - Is Phoebus' self and Mars without a peer. - - A Homer new this vale of high renown - Did once upon a time from Betis wrest, - On whom of wit and gallantry the crown - We can bestow--his greatness is confessed; - The Graces moulded him to be their own, - Heaven sendeth him in every grace the best, - Your Tagus' banks already know his fame, - PEDRO DE MONTESDOCA[183] is his name. - - Wonder the illustrious DIEGO DE AGUILAR[184] - In everything the wish can ask inspires, - A royal eagle he, who flieth far - Unto a height whereto no man aspires; - His pen 'mongst thousands wins the spoil of war, - For before it the loftiest retires, - Guanuco will his style, his valour tell - Of such renown; Guanuco knows it well. - - A GONZALO FERNÁNDEZ[185] draweth near, - A mighty captain in Apollo's host. - In whose heroic name that hath no peer, - SOTOMAYOR to-day doth make his boast; - His verse is wondrous and his wisdom clear - Where'er he is beheld from coast to coast, - And if his pen doth so much joy afford, - He is no less renownèd by his sword. - - HENRIQUE GARCÉS[186] the Peruvian land - Enricheth. There with sweet melodious rhyme, - With cunning, skilful, and with ready hand, - In him the hardest task did highest climb; - New speech, new praise he to the Tuscan grand - Hath given in the sweet Spanish of our time; - Who shall the greatest praises from him take, - E'en though Petrarch himself again awake? - - FERNÁNDEZ DE PINEDA'S[187] talent rare - And excellent, and his immortal vein - Make him to be in no small part the heir - Of Hippocrene's waters without stain; - Since whatsoe'er he would therefrom, is ne'er - Denied him, since such glory he doth gain - In the far West, let him here claim the part - He now deserveth for his mind and art. - - And thou that hast thy native Betis made, - With envy filled, to murmur righteously, - That thy sweet tuneful song hath been displayed - Unto another earth, another sky, - Noble JUAN DE MESTANZA,[188] undismayed - Rejoice, for whilst the fourth Heaven shall supply - Its light, thy name, resplendent in its worth, - Shall be without a peer o'er all the earth. - - All that can e'er in a sweet vein be found - Of charm, ye will in one man only find, - Who bridleth to his muse's gladsome sound - The ocean's madness and the hurrying wind; - For BALTASAR DE ORENA[189] is renowned, - From pole to pole his fame, swift as the wind, - Doth run, and from the East unto the West, - True honour he of our Parnassus' crest. - - A fruitful and a precious plant I know - That hath been to the highest mountain found - In Thessaly transplanted thence, and, lo! - A plant ere this with happy fruitage crowned; - Shall I be still nor tell what fame doth show - Of PEDRO DE ALVARADO[190] the renowned? - Renowned, yet no less brightly doth he shine, - For rare on earth is such a mind divine. - - Thou, who with thy new muse of wondrous grace - Art of the moods of love, CAIRASCO,[191] singing, - And of that common varying fickleness, - Where cowards 'gainst the brave themselves are flinging; - If from the Grand Canary to this place - Thou art thy quick and noble ardour bringing, - A thousand laurels, for thou hast deserved, - My shepherds offer, praises well-deserved. - - What man, time-honoured Tormes, would deny - That thou canst e'en the Nile itself excel, - If VEGA in thy praises can outvie - E'en Tityrus who did of Mincio tell? - DAMIÁN,[192] I know thy genius riseth high - To where this honour doth thine honours swell, - For my experience of many years - Thy knowledge and thy virtue choice declares. - - Although thy genius and thy winning grace, - FRANCISCO SÁNCHEZ,[193] were to give me leave, - If I dared form the wish to hymn thy praise, - Censure should I for lack of skill receive; - None but a master-tongue, whose dwelling place - Is in the heavens, can be the tongue to achieve - The lengthy course and of thy praises speak, - For human tongue is for this task too weak. - - The things that an exalted spirit show, - The things that are so rare, so new in style, - Which fame, esteem, and knowledge bring to view - By hundred thousand proofs of wit and toil, - Cause me to give the praises that are due - To DON FRANCISCO DE LAS CUEVAS,[194] while - Fame that proclaims the tidings everywhere, - Seeks not to linger in her swift career. - - At such a time as this I would have crowned - My sweet song gladly, shepherds, with the praise - Of one whose genius doth the world astound, - And could your senses ravish and amaze; - In him the union and the sum is found - Of all I have praised and have yet to praise; - FRAY LUIS DE LEÓN[195] it is I sing, - Whom I love and adore, to whom I cling. - - What means, what ways of praise shall I achieve, - What pathways that yon great MATÍAS' name - May in the world for countless ages live, - Who hath ZUÑIGA[196] for his other name? - Unto him all my praises let me give, - Though he is man and I immortal am, - Because his genius truly is divine, - Worthily praise and honour in him shine. - - Turn ye the thought that passeth speedily - Unto Pisuerga's lovely banks divine, - Ye will see how the lofty minds whereby - They are adorned, enrich this tale of mine; - And not the banks alone, but e'en the sky, - Wherein the stars resplendent ever shine, - Itself assuredly can honour claim, - When it receives the men whom now I name. - - Thou, DAMASIO DE FRÍAS,[197] canst alone - Thy praises utter, for, although our chief, - Even Apollo's self should praise thee, none - But could be in thy praises all too brief; - Thou art the pole-star that hath ever shone - Certain and sure, that sendeth sweet relief - From storm, and favouring gales, and safe to shore - Brings him who saileth wisdom's ocean o'er. - - ANDRÉS SANZ DEL PORTILLO,[198] send to me - That breath, I pray, whereby Phoebus doth move - Thy learned pen, and lofty fantasy, - That I may praise thee as it doth behove; - For my rough tongue will never able be, - Whate'er the ways it here may try and prove, - To find a way of praising as I would - All that I feel and see in thee of good. - - Happiest of minds, thou towerest in thy flight - Above Apollo's highest, with thy ray - So bright, thou givest to our darkness light, - Thou guidest us, however far we stray; - And though thou dost now blind me with thy light - And hast my mind o'erwhelmèd with dismay, - Glory beyond the rest I give to thee, - For, SORIA,[199] glory thou hast given to me. - - If, famous CANTORAL,[200] so rich a meed - Of praise thy works achieve in every part, - Thou of my praises wilt have little need, - Unless I praise thee with new mode and art; - With words significant of noble deed, - With all the skill that Heaven doth impart, - I marvel, praise in silence, thus I reach - A height I cannot hope to gain by speech. - - If I to sing thy praise have long delayed, - Thou, VACA Y DE QUIÑONES,[201] mayst forgive - The past forgetfulness I have displayed - And the repentance I now show receive, - For with loud cries and proclamation made - O'er the broad world this task I shall achieve - In open and in secret, that thy fame - Shall spread abroad, and brightly gleam thy name. - - Thy rich and verdant strand no juniper - Enricheth, nor sad cypress; but a crown - Of laurels and of myrtles it doth wear, - Bright Ebro, rich in waters and renown, - As best I can, I now thy praise declare, - Praising that bliss which Heaven hath sent down - Unto thy banks, for geniuses more bright - Dwell on thy banks e'en than the stars of night. - - Two brothers witnesses will be thereto, - Two daysprings they, twin suns of poesy, - On whom all that it could of art bestow - And genius, Heaven lavished bounteously; - Thoughts of wise age, though still in youthful glow, - Converse mature, and lovely fantasy, - Fashion a worthy, deathless aureola - For LUPERCIO LEONARDO DE ARGENSOLA.[202] - - With envy blest, in holy rivalry - Methinks the younger brother doth aspire - To match the elder, since he riseth high - To where no human eye e'er riseth higher; - Wherefore he writes and sings melodiously - Histories countless with so sweet a lyre - That young BARTOLOMÉ[203] hath well deserved - Whatever for LUPERCIO is reserved. - - If good beginning and a sequence fair - Inspire the hope of an illustrious close - In everything, my mind may now declare - That thus thou shalt exalt o'er all its foes, - COSME PARIENTE.[204] Thus thou canst with rare - Confidence to thy wise and noble brows - Promise the crown that rightly hath been gained - By thy bright intellect and life unstained. - - MURILLO,[205] thou dost dwell in solitude, - Heaven thy companion, and dost there display - That other muses, cleverer and more good, - Ne'er leave thy Christian side and go away; - Thou from my sisters didst receive thy food, - And now thou dost, this kindness to repay, - Guide us and teach us heavenly things to sing, - Pleasing to Heaven, and this world profiting. - - Turia, who loudly didst of old proclaim - The excellence of the children born to thee, - If thou shouldst hearken to the words I frame, - Moved by no envy, by no rivalry. - - Thou wilt hear how by those whom I shall name, - Thy fame is bettered; their presence with thee, - Their valour, virtue, genius, are thy dower, - And make thee o'er Indus and Ganges tower. - - DON JUAN COLOMA,[206] thou within whose breast - Hath been enclosed so much of Heaven's grace, - Who hast with bridle stern envy repressed, - And given to fame a thousand tongues to blaze, - From Tagus to the kingdom fruitfulest, - Abroad thy name and worth in words of praise, - COUNT DE ELDA, blest in all, thou dost bestow - On Turia greater fame than that of Po. - - He in whose breast a spring that is divine - Through him, doth ever copiously abound, - To whom his choir of flashing lights incline, - And rightly--they their Lord in him have found-- - Who should by all, from Ethiop 'neath the Line - To Eskimo, with name unique be crowned, - DON LUIS GARCERÁN[207] is peerless, bright, - Grand Master of Montesa, world's delight. - - Within this famous vale he should receive - A place illustrious, an abode renowned, - He to whom fame the name would gladly give - Wherewith his intellect is fitly crowned; - Be it the care of Heaven to achieve - His praise--from Heaven comes his worth profound-- - And laud what is beyond my faculties - In DON ALONSO REBOLLEDO[208] wise. - - DOCTOR FALCÓN,[209] so lofty is thy flight - That thou beyond the lordly eagle high - Dost rise; thy genius unto Heaven's height - Ascends, leaving this vale of misery; - Wherefore I fear, wherefore I dread aright - That, though I praise thee, thou wilt yet espy - Cause of complaint in that for nights and days - My voice and tongue I use not in thy praise. - - If e'en as fortune doth, sweet poesy - Had but an ever-changing wheel possessed, - Swifter in speed than Dian through the sky, - Which was not, is not, ne'er shall be at rest, - Thereon let MICER ARTIEDA[210] lie-- - The wheel unchanged the while amid the test-- - And he would ever keep the topmost place - For knowledge, intellect, and virtue's grace. - - The goodly shower of praises thou didst pour - Upon the rarest intellects and best. - - Alone thou meritest and dost secure, - Alone thou dost secure and meritest; - GIL POLO,[211] let thy hopes be firm and sure, - That in this vale thy ashes will find rest - In a new tomb by these my shepherds reared, - Wherein they will be guarded and revered. - - CRISÓOBAL DE VIRUES,[212] since thou dost vaunt - A knowledge and a worth like to thy years, - Thyself the genius and the virtue chant - Wherewith thou fleest the world's beguiling fears; - A fruitful land and a well-nurtured plant-- - In Spain and foreign lands I shall rehearse - And for the fruit of thy exalted mind - Win fame and honour and affection kind. - - If like unto the mind he doth display - SILVESTRE DE ESPINOSA'S[213] praise must be, - A voice more skilled were needed and more gay - A longer time and greater faculty; - But since my voice he guideth on the way, - This guerdon true shall I bestow, that he - May have the blessing Delos' god doth bring - To the choice flood of Hippocrene's spring. - - The world adorning as he comes in view - Amongst them an Apollo I behold, - GARCIA ROMERO,[214] discreet, gallant too, - Worthiest of being in this list enrolled; - If dark Peneus' child, whose story true - Hath been in Ovid's chronicles retold, - Had found him in the plains of Thessaly, - Not laurel, but ROMERO[215] would she be. - - It breaks the silence and the hallowed bound, - Pierces the air, and riseth to the sky, - The heavenly, hallowed, and heroic sound - That speaks in FRAY PEDRO DE HUETE'S[216] cry; - Of his exalted intellect profound - Fame sang, sings and shall sing unceasingly, - Taking his works as witness of her song - To spread amazement all the world among. - - Needs must I now to the last end draw near, - And of the greatest deed I e'er designed - Make a beginning now, which shall, I fear, - Move unto bitter wrath Apollo kind; - Since, although style be wanting, I prepare - To praise with rustic and untutored mind - Two suns that Spain, the country of their birth, - Illumine, and moreover all the earth. - - Apollo's hallowed, honourable lore, - Discretion of a courtier mature, - And years well-spent, experience, which a store - Of countless prudent counsels doth assure, - Acuteness of intellect, a ready power - To mark and to resolve whate'er obscure - Difficulty and doubt before them comes,-- - Each of these in these twin suns only blooms. - - Now, shepherds, I in these two poets find - An epilogue to this my lengthy lay; - Though I for them the praises have designed - Which ye have heard, I do not them repay; - For unto them is debtor every mind, - From them I win contentment every day, - Contentment from them winneth all the earth - E'en wonder, for 'tis Heaven gives them birth. - - In them I wish to end my melody, - Yet I begin an admiration new, - And if ye think I go too far, when I - Say who they are, behold, I vanquish you; - By them I am exalted to the sky, - And without them shame ever is my due; - 'Tis LÁINEZ,[217] FIGUEROA[218] 'tis I name - Worthy eternal and unceasing fame. - -Scarce had the fair nymph ended the last accents of her delightful song, -when the flames which were divided, uniting once more, enclosed her -in the midst, and straightway, as they were gradually consumed, the -glowing fire in a little while vanished, and the discreet muse from -before the eyes of all, at a time when already the bright dawn was -beginning to reveal her cool and rosy cheeks over the spacious sky, -giving glad tokens of the coming day. And straightway the venerable -Telesio, setting himself on Meliso's tomb, and surrounded by all the -pleasing company who were there, all lending him a pleasing attention -and strange silence, began to speak to them in this wise: - -'What you have seen this past night in this very spot and with your -eyes, discreet and gallant shepherds, and fair shepherdesses, will have -given you to understand how acceptable to Heaven is the laudable custom -we have of performing these yearly sacrifices and honourable funeral -rites, for the happy souls of the bodies which by your decree deserved -to have burial in this famous valley. I say this to you, my friends, in -order that henceforth with more fervour and diligence you may assist in -carrying out so holy and famous a work, since you now see how rare and -lofty are the spirits of which the beauteous Calliope has told us, for -all are worthy not only of your, but of all possible praises. And think -not that the pleasure is small I have felt in learning from so true a -narration how great is the number of the men of divine genius who live -in our Spain to-day; for it always has been and is held by all foreign -nations that the spirits are not many, but few, that in the science -of poetry show that they are of lofty spirit, the real fact being as -different as we see, since each of those the nymph has named excels -the most subtle foreigner, and they would give clear tokens of it, if -poetry were valued as highly in this Spain of ours as it is in other -regions. And so for this reason the renowned and clear intellects that -excel in it, because of the little esteem in which the princes and the -common people hold them, by their minds alone communicate their lofty -and strange conceptions, without daring to publish them to the world, -and I hold for my part that Heaven must have ordained it in this way -because the world does not deserve, nor does our heedless age, to enjoy -food so pleasant to the soul. But, since it seems to me, shepherds, -that the little sleep of the past night and our long ceremonies will -have made you somewhat wearied and desirous of repose, it will be well, -after doing the little that remains to us to fulfil our purpose, for -each to return to his hut or to the village, carrying in his memory -what the muse has enjoined on us.' - -And, saying this, he descended from the tomb, and crowning himself once -more with new funereal branches, he went again round the pyre three -times, all following him and accompanying him in some devout prayers -he was uttering. This being done, all having him in their midst, he -turned his grave face to each side, and, bowing his head, and showing -a grateful countenance and eyes full of love, he took leave of all the -company, who, going some by one and some by another side of the four -outlets that place had, in a little while all dispersed and divided, -only those of Aurelio's village remaining, and with them Timbrio, -Silerio, Nisida, and Blanca, with the famous shepherds, Elicio, -Thyrsis, Damon, Lauso, Erastro, Daranio, Arsindo, and the four hapless -ones, Orompo, Marsilio, Crisio, and Orfenio, with the shepherdesses -Galatea, Florisa, Silveria and her friend Belisa, for whom Marsilio was -dying. All these then being together, the venerable Aurelio told them -that it would be well to depart at once from that place in order to -reach the stream of palms in time to spend the noon-tide heat there, -since it was so suitable a spot for it. What Aurelio was saying seemed -good to all, and straightway they went with peaceful steps towards -where he said. But as the fair appearance of the shepherdess Belisa -would not permit Marsilio's spirits to rest, he would fain, if he had -been able, and it had been allowed him, have approached her and told -her of the injustice she used towards him; but, not to break through -the respect which was due to Belisa's modesty, the mournful swain was -more silent than his desire required. Love produced the same effects -and symptoms in the souls of the lovers Elicio and Erastro, who each -for himself would fain have told Galatea what she well knew already. At -this moment Aurelio said: - -'It does not seem to me well, shepherds, that you should show -yourselves so greedy as not to be willing to respond to and repay what -you owe to the larks and nightingales and to the other painted little -birds that amongst these trees are delighting and gladdening you by -their untaught wondrous harmony. Play your instruments and uplift your -sounding voices, and show them that your art and skill in music excel -their native music, and with such a pastime we shall feel less the -tedium of the journey and the rays of the sun which already seem to be -threatening the violence with which they must needs strike the earth -during this noon-tide heat.' - -But little was necessary for Aurelio to be obeyed, for straightway -Erastro played his pipe and Arsindo his rebeck, to the sound of which -instruments, all giving the lead to Elicio, he began to sing in this -wise: - -ELICIO. - - For the impossible I fight, - And, should I wish to retreat, - Step nor pathway is in sight, - For, till victory or defeat, - Desire draweth me with might; - Though I know that I must die, - Ere the victory I achieve, - When I most in peril lie, - Then it is that I receive - _More faith in adversity_. - - Never may I hope to gain - Fortune; this is Heaven's decree. - Heaven the works of hope hath ta'en - And doth lavish aye on me - Countless certainties of pain; - But my breast of constancy, - Which amidst Love's living flame - Glows and melteth ceaselessly, - In exchange this boon doth claim: - _More faith in adversity_. - - Certain doubt and fickleness - Traitorous faith and surest fear, - Love's unbridled wilfulness, - Trouble ne'er the loving care - Which is crowned with steadfastness, - Time on hasty wing may fly, - Absence come, or disdain cold, - Evil grow, tranquillity - Fail, yet I as bliss will hold - _More faith in adversity_. - - Certain folly is it not, - And a madness sure and great, - That I set my heart on what - Fortune doth deny, and Fate, - Nor is promised by my lot? - Dread of everything have I, - There is naught can give me pleasure, - Yet amidst such agony - Love bestows its chiefest treasure: - _More faith in adversity_. - - Victory o'er my grief I gain, - Which to such a pass is brought - That it doth Love's height attain, - And I find that from this thought - Comes some solace to my pain; - Although poor and lowly I, - Yet relief so rich in woe - To the fancy I apply, - That the heart may ever know - _More faith in adversity_. - - All the more that every ill - Comes with every ill to-day, - And that they my life may fill - With more pain, though deadly they, - They do keep me living still; - But our life in dignity - With a noble end is crowned, - And in mine my fame shall lie, - For in life, in death I found - _More faith in adversity_. - -It seemed to Marsilio that what Elicio had been singing accorded with -his mood so well that he wished to follow him in the same idea, and so, -without waiting for anyone else to take the lead in it, to the sound of -the same instruments, he began to sing thus: - -MARSILIO. - Ah! 'tis easy for the wind - All the hopes to bear away - That could ever be designed - And could their foundations lay - On vain fancies of the mind; - For all hopes of loving gain, - All the ways Time doth uncover, - Wholly are destroyed and slain; - But the while in the true lover - _Faith, faith only, doth remain_. - - It achieves such potency - That, despite disdain which never - Offereth security, - Bliss it promiseth me ever, - Bliss that keeps the hope in me; - And, though Love doth quickly wane - In the angry breast and white - That increaseth so my pain, - Yet in mine, in its despite, - _Faith, faith only, doth remain_. - - Love, 'tis true thou dost receive - Tribute for my loyalty, - And so much dost thou achieve - That my faith did never die, - It doth with my works revive; - My content--'tis to thee plain-- - And my glory all decays, - As thy fury grows amain; - In my soul as dwelling-place - _Faith, faith only, doth remain_. - - But if it be truth declared - And beyond all doubt have passed, - That to faith glory is barred, - I, who shall to faith hold fast, - What hope I for my reward? - Sense doth vanish with the pain - That is pictured, all the bliss - Flies and is not seen again, - And amidst such miseries - _Faith, faith only, doth remain_. - -With a profound sigh the hapless Marsilio ended his song, and -straightway Erastro, handing over his pipe, without further delaying -began to sing thus: - -ERASTRO. - - In my woe and suffering - 'Midst the pleasures of my care, - My faith is so choice a thing, - That it flieth not from fear - Neither unto hope doth cling; - 'Tis not moved to agony, - In its task of climbing high, - To behold that joy hath fled, - Nor to see that life is sped - _Where faith lives and hope is dead_. - - This is wondrous 'midst my woe, - Yet 'tis so that thus my bliss, - If it comes, may come to show - That amidst a thousand 'tis - That to which the palm should go; - Let not fame this truth deny - But unto the nations cry - With loud tongue that Love doth rest - Firm and loyal in my breast - _Where faith lives and hope is dead_. - - Ah! thy rigorous disdain - And my merit, poor and low, - So affright me that 'tis plain, - Though I love thee, this I know, - Yet I dare not tell my pain; - Ever open I espy - The gate to my agony, - And that life doth slow depart, - For thou heedest not the heart - _Where faith lives and hope is dead_. - - Never doth my fancy frame - Such a frenzied, foolish, thought - As to think that I could claim - Any bliss that I have sought - By my faith and heart aflame; - Thou canst know with certainty - My surrendered soul doth try, - Shepherdess, to love thee true, - For 'tis there that thou wilt view - _Where faith lives and hope is dead_. - -Erastro became silent, and straightway the absent Crisio, to the sound -of the same instruments, began to sing in this fashion: - -CRISIO. - If the loyal heart despair - Of achieving happiness, - Whoso faints in the career - Of the loving passion's stress, - What shall he as guerdon bear? - I know not that any may - Win delight and pleasure gay - In the sudden rush of Love, - If the greatest joys but prove - _'Tis no faith that doth not stay_. - - This undoubted truth we know - That in battle and in love - He that proud and bold is, though - Conqueror he at first may prove, - Sinks at last beneath the blow; - And the wise man knows to-day - That the victory ever lay - 'Midst the strife in constancy, - And he knows, whate'er it be - _'Tis no faith that doth not stay_. - - Whoso seeks in love to gain - Nothing save his happiness, - In his fickle thought and vain, - Faith that shall withstand all stress - Cannot for one hour remain; - I myself these words would say, - If my faith should not display - Constancy amidst the storm - Of ill, as when hope is warm: - _'Tis no faith that doth not stay_. - - Madness of a lover new, - His impetuous hastening, - Sighs and sadness, these, 'tis true, - Are but fleeting clouds of spring, - In a moment lost to view: - 'Tis not love he doth display, - Greed and folly lead astray, - For he loves, yet loveth not, - No man loves who dieth not, - _'Tis no faith that doth not stay_. - -All approved of the order the shepherds were keeping in their songs, -and with desire they were waiting for Thyrsis or Damon to begin; but at -once Damon satisfied them, for, as Crisio finished, to the sound of his -own rebeck, he sang thus: - -DAMON. - - Thankless Amaryllis fair, - Who shall make thee tender prove, - If the faith of my true love - And the anguish of my care - Do thee but to hardness move? - Maiden, 'tis to thee well known - That the love which is in me - Leads to this extremity: - Save my faith in God alone - _Naught is faith but faith in thee_. - - But although I go so high - In love for a mortal thing, - Such bliss to my woe doth cling - That the soul I raise thereby - To the land whence it doth spring; - Thus this truth I know full well - That my love remains in me - In life, in death, ceaselessly, - And, if faith in love doth dwell, - _Naught is faith but faith in thee_. - - All the years that I have passed - In my services of love, - My soul's sacrifices prove - All the cares that hold me fast - And the faith that doth me move; - Wherefore for the ill I bear - I will ask no remedy, - Should I ask it willingly, - 'Tis because, my lady fair, - _Naught is faith but faith in thee_. - - In my soul's tempestuous ocean - Peace and calm I ne'er have found, - And my faith is never crowned - With that hope and glad emotion - Whereon faith itself doth ground; - Love and fortune I deplore - Yet revenge is not for me, - For they bring felicity - In that, though I hope no more, - _Naught is faith but faith in thee_. - -Damon's song fully confirmed in Timbrio and in Silerio the good opinion -they had formed of the rare wit of the shepherds who were there; and -the more when, at the persuasion of Thyrsis and of Elicio, the now free -and disdainful Lauso, to the sound of Arsindo's flute, released his -voice in verses such as these: - -LAUSO. - Fickle Love, disdain thy chains - Broke, and to my memory - Hath restored the liberty - Born from absence of thy pains; - Let him, whoso would, accuse - My faith as capricious, weak, - And as best he thinketh, seek - To convert me to his views. - - I my love did soon forsake, - He may say, my faith was hung - By a hair so finely strung - That it e'en a breath could break; - All the plaints Love did provoke, - All my sighs, did feignèd prove, - Nay the very shafts of Love - Did not pierce beneath my cloke. - - For no torture 'tis for me - To be callèd fickle, vain, - If I may behold again - My neck from the mad yoke free; - Who Silena is, I know, - And how strange her mood hath been, - How her peaceful face serene - Promise and deceit doth show. - - To her wondrous dignity, - To her fair and downcast eyes, - 'Tis not much to yield the prize - Of the will, whose'er it be, - For at first sight we adore; - Now we know her, fain would we - Life and more, if more could be, - Give to see her nevermore. - - Ofttimes to her have I given - Heaven's Silena and my dear - For her name--she was so fair - That she seemed the child of Heaven; - Better now her name shall be-- - Now that I need fear no more-- - Not Silena, Heaven's flower, - But false Siren of the sea. - - Earnest words, frivolities, - Gazing eyes and ardent pen - Of the lover, blind and vain,-- - Take a countless sum of these, - And the last is ever first; - Whoso hath in love surpassed, - As the first loved, e'en at last - Is by her disdain accursed. - - How much fairer would we deem - Our Silena's beauteous grace, - If her wisdom and her ways - Did her fairness but beseem! - She discretion hath at will, - But a halter 'tis to slay - The presumption of her way, - For she useth it so ill. - - I speak not with shameless tongue, - For it were but passion wild, - But I speak as one beguiled, - Who hath suffered grievous wrong; - Passion doth no more me blind, - Nor desire that she should wrong - Suffer, for always my tongue - Was in reason's bonds confined. - - Her caprices manifold, - And her moods that ever change, - From her every hour estrange - Those who were her friends of old; - Since Silena foes hath made - In the many ways we see, - Wholly good she cannot be, - Or they must be wholly bad. - -Lauso ended his song, and though he thought that no one understood -him, through ignorance of Silena's disguised name, more than three of -those who were there knew her, and even marvelled that Lauso's modest -behaviour should have gone so far as to attack anyone, especially the -disguised shepherdess with whom they had seen him so much in love. -But in the opinion of his friend Damon he was fully excused, for he -was acquainted with Silena's conduct, and knew how she had conducted -herself towards Lauso, and wondered at what he left unsaid. Lauso -finished, as has been said; and as Galatea had heard of the charm of -Nisida's voice, she wished to sing first, so as to constrain her to do -the same. And for this reason, before any other shepherd could begin, -beckoning to Arsindo to continue sounding his flute, to its sound with -her exquisite voice she sang in this wise: - -GALATEA. - E'en as Love ever seeks the soul to entame, - Tempting it by the semblance of delight, - E'en so she from Love's deadly pangs in flight - Turneth, who knows its name bestowed by fame. - - The breast that doth oppose his amorous flame, - The breast with honourable resistance armed, - By Love's unkindness is but little harmed, - Little his fire and rigour doth inflame. - - Secure is she who never was beloved, - Nor could love, from that tongue which in dispraise - Of her honour, with subtle glow doth gleam. - - But if to love and not to love have proved - Fruitful in harm, how shall she spend her days - Who honour dearer e'en than life doth deem? - -It could easily be seen in Galatea's song that she was replying -to Lauso's malicious one, and that she was not against unfettered -wills, but against the malicious tongues and wronged souls which, in -not gaining what they desire, change the love they once showed to -a malicious and detestable hatred, as she fancied in Lauso's case; -but perhaps she would have escaped from this error, if she had known -Lauso's good disposition, and had not been ignorant of Silena's -evil one. As soon as Galatea ceased to sing, she begged Nisida -with courteous words to do the same. She, as she was as courteous -as beautiful, without letting herself be pressed, to the sound of -Florisa's pipe sang in this fashion: - -NISIDA. - Bravely I took my courage as defence - In the dread conflict and onslaught of Love, - My boldness bravely raised to Heaven above - Against the rigour of the clear offence. - - But yet so overwhelming and intense - The battery, and withal so weak my power - That, though Love seized me not, in one short hour - Love brought me to confess his power immense. - - O'er worth, o'er honour, o'er a mind discreet, - Shy modesty, a bosom of disdain, - Love doth with ease achieve the victory; - - Wherefore, in order to escape defeat, - Strength from no words of wisdom can we gain, - Unto this truth an eye-witness am I. - -When Nisida ceased to sing and to fill with admiration Galatea and -those who had been listening to her, they were already quite near the -spot where they had determined to pass the noon-tide hour. But in that -short time Belisa had time to fulfil Silveria's request, which was -that she should sing something; and she, accompanied by the sound of -Arsindo's flute, sang what follows: - -BELISA. - Fancy, that is fancy-free, - Listen to the reason why - Our fame groweth steadily, - Pass the vain affection by, - Mother of all injury; - For whene'er the soul doth load - Itself with some loving load, - Bane that takes the life away, - Mixed with juice of bitter bay, - Is to it but pleasing food. - - But our precious liberty - Should not bartered be nor sold - For the greatest quantity - Of the best refinèd gold, - Best in worth and quality; - Shall we bring ourselves to bear - Such a loss and heed the prayer - Of a lover whom we scorn, - If all blessings ever born - Do not with such bliss compare? - - If the grief we cannot bear - When the body, free from love, - Is confined in prison drear, - Shall the pain not greater prove, - When the very soul is there? - Pain 'twill be of such a kind - That no remedy we find - For such ill in patience, time, - Worth, or learning in its prime, - Naught save death alone is kind. - - Wherefore let my healthy mood - From this madness flee away, - Leave behind so false a good, - Let my free will ever sway - Every fancy as it would; - Let my tender neck and free - Never yield itself to be - Placed beneath the loving yoke, - Whereby peace is, at a stroke, - Slain, and banished liberty. - -The shepherdess's verses of freedom reached the soul of the hapless -Marsilio, by reason of the little hope her words held out that her -deeds would grow better; but as the faith with which he loved her was -so firm, the noteworthy proofs of freedom he had heard uttered, could -not but keep him as much without it as he had been before. At this -point the road leading to the stream of palms ended, and though they -had not had the intention of spending the noon-tide heat there, when -they reached it and saw the comfort of the beautiful spot, it would -have of itself compelled them not to go further. When they had come -to it then, straightway the venerable Aurelio commanded all to seat -themselves beside the clear and glassy stream, which was flowing in -amongst the short grass, and had its birth at the foot of a very tall -and ancient palm (for there being on all the banks of the Tagus only -that one, and another which was beside it, that place and stream was -called "of the palms"), and after sitting down, they were served by -Aurelio's shepherds with more good-will and simplicity than costly -victuals, satisfying their thirst with the clear cool waters that the -pure stream offered them. And on ending the short and pleasant repast, -some of the shepherds separated and departed to seek some shady place -apart, where they might make up for the unslept hours of the past -night; and there remained alone only those of Aurelio's company and -village with Timbrio, Silerio, Nisida and Blanca, Thyrsis and Damon, -to whom it appeared to be better to enjoy the fair converse that was -expected there, than any other enjoyment that sleep could offer them. -Aurelio then, guessing and almost knowing this their purpose, said to -them: - -'It will be well, sirs, that we, who are here, since we have not wished -to yield ourselves to sweet sleep, should not fail to make use of this -time we steal from it in something that may be more to our pleasure, -and what, it seems to me, will not fail to give it us, is that each, as -best he can, should here show the sharpness of his wits, propounding -some question, or riddle, to whom the companion who may be at his side -may be forced to reply; since with this pastime two things will be -gained--one to spend with less tedium the hours we shall be here, the -other, not to weary our ears so much with always hearing lamentations -of love, and love-sick dirges.' - -All straightway fell in with Aurelio's wish, and without any of them -leaving the place where they were, the first who began to question was -Aurelio himself, speaking in this wise: - -AURELIO. - Who is he, that mighty one, - That from East to farthest West - Winneth fame and high renown? - Sometimes strong and self-possessed, - Sometimes weak with courage gone; - Health he gives and takes away, - Strength on many every day - He bestows or doth withhold, - Stronger he when he is old - Than when youth is bright and gay. - - Changing where he changeth not - By a strange preëminence, - Strong men tremble, by him caught, - He hath rarest eloquence - Unto sullen dumbness brought; - He his being and his name - Measureth in different ways, - From a thousand lands of praise - He is wont to take his fame. - - He unarmed hath conquerèd - Armèd men, as needs he must, - Who hath dealt with him is sped, - Who would bring him to the dust, - To the dust is brought instead; - 'Tis a thing that doth astound - That a champion should be found, - In the field and in the town, - 'Gainst a chief of such renown, - Though he soon shall bite the ground. - -The answering of this question fell to the old shepherd Arsindo, who -was beside Aurelio; and having for a little while considered what it -could denote, at last he said to him: - -'It seems to me, Aurelio, that our age compels us to be more enamoured -of that which your question denotes than of the most graceful -shepherdess that might present herself to us, for, if I am not -mistaken, the mighty and renowned one you mention is wine, and all the -attributes you have given him tally with it.' - -'You speak truth, Arsindo,' replied Aurelio, 'and I am inclined to say -that I am sorry to have propounded a question which has been solved -with much ease; but do you tell yours, for at your side you have one -who will be able to unravel it for you, however knotty it may be.' - -'I agree,' said Arsindo; and straightway he propounded the following: - -ARSINDO. - Who is he that loseth hue - Where he most is wont to thrive, - In a moment doth revive - And his colour takes anew? - In the birth hour he is grey, - Afterwards black as a crow, - Last, so ruddy is his glow - That it maketh all men gay. - - Laws nor charters doth he keep, - To the flames a faithful friend, - Oftentimes he doth attend - E'en where lords and princes sleep; - Dead he manhood doth assume, - Living takes a woman's name, - He at heart is lurid flame - But in semblance deepest gloom. - -It was Damon who was at Arsindo's side, and scarcely had the latter -finished his question, when he said to him: - -'It seems to me, Arsindo, that your query is not so dark as the thing -it denotes, for if I am not wrong in it, it is charcoal of which you -say that when dead it is called masculine, and when glowing and alive -_brasa_,[219] which is a feminine noun, and all the other parts suit -it in every respect, as this does; and if you are in the same plight -as Aurelio, by reason of the ease with which your question has been -understood, I am going to keep you company in it, since Thyrsis, to -whom it falls to answer me, will make us equal.' - -And straightway he spoke his: - -DAMON. - Who is she of courtly grace, - Well-adorned, a dainty dame, - Timorous, yet bold of face, - Modest she, yet lacking shame, - Pleasant, yet she doth displease? - When in numbers, to astound, - Masculine their name doth sound, - And it is a certain thing - That amongst them is the king, - And with all men they are found. - -'Verily, friend Damon,' said Thyrsis forthwith, 'your challenge comes -true, and you pay the forfeit that Aurelio and Arsindo pay, if any -there be; for I tell you I know that what your riddle conceals is a -letter,[220] and a pack of cards.' - -Damon admitted that Thyrsis was right. And straightway Thyrsis -propounded his riddle thus: - -THYRSIS. - Who is she that is all eyes, - All eyes she from head to foot, - And, although she seeks it not, - Sometimes causeth lovers' sighs? - Quarrels too she doth appease, - Though indeed she knows not why, - And although she is all eye, - Very few the things she sees. - She doth call herself a grief - Counted mortal, good and dire - Evil worketh, and doth fire - Love, and to love brings relief. - -Thyrsis's riddle puzzled Elicio, for it was his turn to answer it, and -he was on the point of 'giving up,' as the saying is; but in a little -while he managed to say that it was jealousy, and, Thyrsis admitting -it, Elicio straightway propounded the following: - -ELICIO. - 'Tis obscure, and yet 'tis clear, - Thousand opposites containing, - Truth to us at last explaining, - Which it hides from far and near; - Born at times from beauty rare - Or from lofty fantasies, - Unto strife it giveth rise, - Though it deals with things of air. - - Unto all its name is known, - From the children to the old, - 'Tis in numbers manifold, - Divers are the lords they own; - Every beldame doth possess - One of them to make her gay, - Things of pleasure for a day, - Full of joy or weariness. - - And to rob them of their sense - Men of wisdom keep awake, - Whatsoe'er the pains they take, - Some are doomed to impotence; - Sometimes foolish, sometimes witty; - Easy, or with tangles fraught, - Whether naught it be or not, - Say, what is this thing so pretty? - -Timbrio could not hit upon the thing which Elicio's question denoted, -and he almost began to be ashamed at seeing that he delayed longer in -answering than any one else, but not even this consideration made him -come to a better perception of it; and he delayed so long that Galatea, -who was after Nisida, said: - -'If it is allowed to break the order which is given, and the one who -should first know may reply, I say for my part that I know what the -riddle propounded denotes, and I am ready to solve it, if señor Timbrio -gives me leave.' - -'Certainly, fair Galatea,' replied Timbrio, 'for I know that just -as I lack, so you have a superabundance of, wit, to solve greater -difficulties; but nevertheless I wish you to be patient until Elicio -repeats it, and if this time I do not hit it, the opinion I have of my -wit and yours, will be confirmed with more truth.' - -Elicio repeated his question, and straightway Timbrio solved its -meaning, saying: - -'With the very thing by which I thought your query was obscured, -Elicio, it appears to me to be solved, for the last line says, that -they are to say what is this thing so pretty. And so I answer you in -what you ask me, and say that your question means that which we mean -by a pretty thing;[221] and do not be surprised that I have been long -in answering, for, if I had answered sooner, I would have been more -surprised at my wit; which will show what it is in the small skill of -my question, which is this: - -TIMBRIO. - Who is he who to his pain - Placeth his feet in the eyes, - And although no hurt arise, - Makes them sing with might and main? - And to pull them out is pleasure, - Though at times, who doeth so, - Doth by no means ease his woe, - But achieveth more displeasure.' - -It fell to Nisida to reply to Timbrio's question, but neither she nor -Galatea who followed her were able to guess it. And Orompo, seeing that -the shepherdesses were wearying themselves in thinking what it denoted, -said to them: - -'Do not tire yourselves, ladies, nor weary your minds in solving this -riddle, for it might well be that neither of you in all her life has -seen the figure that the question conceals, and so it is no wonder -that you should not hit upon it; for if it had been of a different -kind, we were quite sure, as regards your minds, that in a shorter time -you would have solved others more difficult. And therefore, with your -leave, I am going to reply to Timbrio, and tell him that his query -denotes a man in fetters, since when he draws his feet from those eyes -he speaks of, it is either to set him free or to take him to execution; -so that you may see, shepherdesses, if I was right in thinking that -perhaps neither of you had seen in all her life jails or prisons.' - -'I for my part can say,' said Galatea, 'that never have I seen any one -imprisoned.' - -Nisida and Blanca said the same. And straightway Nisida propounded her -question in this form: - -NISIDA. - Fire it biteth, and its bite - To its victim harm and good - Bringeth; but it doth no blood - Lose, although the blade doth smite; - But if deep should be the wound, - From a hand that is not sure, - Death comes to the victim poor, - In such death its life is found. - -Galatea delayed little in answering Nisida, for straightway she said to -her: - -'I am quite sure that I am not mistaken, fair Nisida, if I say that -your riddle can in no way be better applied than to candle-snuffers and -to the taper or candle they snuff; and if this is true, as it is, and -you are satisfied with my reply, listen now to mine, which I hope will -be solved by your sister with no less ease than I have done yours.' - -And straightway she spoke it, and it ran thus: - -GALATEA. - Children three, who love inspire, - And the children of one mother, - One was grandson of his brother, - And another was his sire; - These three children did distress - And o'erwhelm her with such woes, - That they gave her countless blows, - Showing thus their skilfulness. - -Blanca was considering what Galatea's riddle could denote, when they -saw two gallant shepherds crossing at a run near the place where they -were, showing by the fury with which they were running that something -important constrained them to move their steps with such speed, and -straightway at the same moment they heard some mournful cries, as of -persons seeking help; and on this alarm all arose and followed the -direction whence the cries sounded; and in a few steps they issued -from that delightful spot and came out on the bank of the cool Tagus, -which, close at hand, was flowing gently by. And scarcely did they see -the river, when the strangest thing they could imagine was presented to -their gaze; for they saw two shepherdesses seemingly of noble grace, -who were holding a shepherd fast by the lappets of his coat with all -the strength in their power, in order that the poor fellow might not -drown himself, for he already had half his body in the river, and his -head below the water, struggling with his feet to release himself from -the shepherdesses, who were hindering his desperate purpose. They were -already almost on the point of letting him go, being unable to overcome -his obstinate determination with their feeble strength. But at this -point the two shepherds approached, who had been coming at a run, and -seizing the desperate man, drew him out of the water just as all the -others were already approaching, astounded at the strange sight, and -they were more so, when they learned that the shepherd who wished to -drown himself was Artidoro's brother, Galercio, while the shepherdesses -were his sister Maurisa and the fair Teolinda; and when these saw -Galatea and Florisa, Teolinda ran with tears in her eyes to embrace -Galatea, saying: - -'Ah, Galatea, sweet friend and lady mine, how has this luckless wretch -fulfilled the word she gave you to return to see you and tell you the -news of her happiness!' - -'I shall be as glad for you to have it, Teolinda,' replied Galatea, 'as -you are assured by the good-will you know I have to serve you; but it -seems to me that your eyes do not bear out your words, nor indeed do -these satisfy me so as to make me imagine a successful issue to your -desires.' - -Whilst Galatea was thus occupied with Teolinda, Elicio and Artidoro -with the other shepherds had stripped Galercio, and as they loosened -his coat, which with all his clothes had been wetted, a paper fell from -his bosom, which Thyrsis picked up, and, opening it, saw that it was -verse; and not being able to read it because it was wet, he placed it -on a lofty branch in the sun's ray so that it might dry. On Galercio -they placed a cloak of Arsindo's, and the luckless youth was as it were -astounded and amazed, without saying a word, though Elicio asked him -what was the cause that had brought him to so strange a pass. But his -sister Maurisa answered for him, saying: - -'Raise your eyes, shepherds, and you will see who is the cause that has -set my unfortunate wretch of a brother in so strange and desperate a -plight.' - -The shepherds raised their eyes at what Maurisa said, and saw a -graceful and comely shepherdess on a beetling rock that overhung the -river, seated on the same crag, and watching with smiling countenance -all that the shepherds were doing. She was straightway recognised by -all as the cruel Gelasia. - -'That loveless, that thankless girl, sirs,' went on Maurisa, 'is the -mortal enemy of this my unhappy brother, who, as all these banks -already know and you are not unaware, loves her, worships her and -adores her; and in return for the ceaseless services he has always done -her, and for the tears that he has shed for her, she this morning, -with the most scornful and loveless disdain that could ever be found -in cruelty, bade him go from her presence, and never return to her -now or henceforth. And my brother wished to obey her so earnestly, -that he sought to take away his life, to avoid the occasion of ever -transgressing her bidding; and if these shepherds had not by chance -come so quickly, the end of my happiness, and the end of my hapless -brother's days would by now have come.' - -What Maurisa said set all those who listened to her in amazement, and -they were more amazed when they saw that the cruel Gelasia, without -moving from the spot where she was, and without taking account of all -that company who had their eyes set on her, with a strange grace and -spirited disdain, drew a small rebeck from her wallet, and stopping -to tune it very leisurely, after a little while with a voice of great -beauty began to sing in this wise: - -GELASIA. - The pleasing herbs of the green shady mead, - The cooling fountains, who will e'er forsake, - And strive no more the fleet hare to o'ertake - Or bristling wild-boar, following on with speed? - - Who will no more the friendly warblings heed - Of the dear, simple birds within the brake? - Who in the glowing noon-tide hour will make - No more his couch within the woods at need, - - That he the fires may follow, and the fears, - Jealousies, angers, rages, deaths, and pains, - Of traitorous Love, that doth the world torment? - - Upon the fields are set my loving cares - And have been, rose and jessamine my chains, - Free was I born, on freedom am I bent. - -Gelasia was singing, and showing in the motion and expression of her -face her loveless disposition; but scarcely had she come to the last -verse of her song, when she rose with a strange swiftness, and, as if -she were fleeing from some terrible thing, she began to hurry down by -the crag, leaving the shepherds amazed at her disposition and astounded -at her swift course. But straightway they saw what was the cause of it, -on seeing the enamoured Lenio, who with dragging step was ascending -the same crag, with the intention of coming to where Gelasia was; but -she was not willing to wait for him, so as not to fail in a single -instance to act in accordance with the cruelty of her purpose. The -wearied Lenio came to the summit of the crag, when Gelasia was already -at its foot, and seeing that she did not check her steps, but directed -them with more haste through the spacious plain, with spent breath and -tired spirit he sat down in the same spot where Gelasia had been, and -there began with desperate words to curse his fortune, and the hour -in which he raised his eyes to gaze on the cruel shepherdess Gelasia, -and in that same moment, repenting as it were of what he was saying, -he turned to bless his eyes, and to extol the cause that placed him -in such a pass. And straightway goaded and urged by a fit of frenzy, -he flung his crook far from him, and, stripping off his coat, cast it -into the waters of the clear Tagus, which followed close by the foot -of the crag. And when the shepherds who were watching him saw this, -they believed without a doubt that the violence of his love-passion -was depriving him of reason; and so Elicio and Erastro began to ascend -the crag to prevent him from doing any other mad act, that might -cost him more dear. And though Lenio saw them ascending, he made no -other movement save to draw his rebeck from a wallet, and with a new -and strange calm sat down again; and turning his face to where his -shepherdess heard, he began with a voice mellow and accompanied with -tears to sing in this fashion: - -LENIO. - Who drives thee on, who leadeth thee aside, - Who makes thee leave all loving thought behind, - Who on thy feet hath rapid pinions tied, - Wherewith thou runnest swifter than the wind? - Wherefore dost thou my lofty thought deride - And think but little of my loyal mind? - Why fleest thou from me, why leavest me? - Harder than marble to my agony! - - Am I perchance so lowly in estate - That I may not behold thy eyes so fair, - Or poor or niggard? Have I proved ingrate - Or false since I beheld their beauty rare? - I am in naught changed from my former state, - Does not my soul hang ever from thy hair? - Then wherefore dost thou go so far from me? - Harder than marble to my agony! - - Let thy o'erweening pride a warning take, - When it beholds my will, once free, subdued, - My ancient daring, see, I now forsake, - To loving purpose changed my former mood; - Behold, the forest life, that doth not make - A care of aught, 'gainst Love is nowise good, - Now stay thy steps, why wearied should they be? - Harder than marble to my agony! - - Once I was as thou art, now I behold - That I can ne'er be what I was before, - The force of my desire doth wax so bold, - So great my love, I love myself no more; - Love can me now within his prison hold; - This is thy palm, thy trophy in the war, - Victorious o'er me, dost complain of me? - Harder than marble to my agony! - -While the hapless shepherd was intoning his piteous plaints, the other -shepherds were reproving Galercio for his evil design, condemning the -wicked purpose he had displayed. But the despairing youth replied to -nothing, whereat Maurisa was not a little distressed, believing that, -if left alone, he must carry out his evil thought. In the meantime -Galatea and Florisa, going aside with Teolinda, asked her what was the -cause of her return, and if by chance she had already heard of her -Artidoro. To which she replied weeping: - -'I know not what to say to you, friends and ladies mine, save that -Heaven wished that I should find Artidoro, to lose him utterly; for you -must know that that same unconsiderate and traitorous sister of mine, -who was the beginning of my misfortune, has been the cause of the end -and termination of my happiness. For learning, as we came with Galercio -and Maurisa to their village, that Artidoro was on a mountain not -far from there with his flock, she went away to look for him without -telling me anything. She found him, and, pretending that she was I -(since for this wrong alone Heaven ordained that we should be alike), -with little difficulty gave him to understand that the shepherdess -who had disdained him in our village was a sister of hers, who was -exceedingly like her; in a word, she recounted to him, as though they -were hers, all the actions I have done for his sake, and the extremes -of grief I have suffered. And as the heart of the shepherd was so -tender and loving, with far less than the traitress told him would she -have been believed by him, as indeed he did believe her, so much to -my hurt, that without waiting for fortune to mingle any new obstacle -with his pleasure, straightway at the very moment he gave his hand -to Leonarda, to be her lawful husband, believing he was giving it to -Teolinda. Here you see, shepherdesses, where the fruit of my tears and -sighs has ended; here you see all my hope already torn up by the root; -and what I feel most is that it has been by the hand that was most -bound to sustain it. Leonarda enjoys Artidoro by means of the false -deception I have told you, and although he already knows it, though he -must have perceived the trick, he has kept it to himself like a wise -man. The tidings of his marriage came straightway to the village, and -with them those of the end of my happiness; the stratagem of my sister -was also known, who gave as excuse that she saw Galercio, whom she -loved so much, going to ruin through the shepherdess Gelasia, and that -therefore it seemed to her easier to bring to her will the loving will -of Artidoro than Galercio's despairing one, and that since the two were -but one as regards outward appearance and nobility, she counted herself -happy and fortunate, indeed, with Artidoro's companionship. With this -the enemy of my bliss excuses herself, as I have said; and so I, not -to see her enjoy that which was rightly due to me, left the village -and Artidoro's presence, and accompanied by the saddest fancies that -can be fancied, came to give you the news of my misery in the company -of Maurisa, who likewise comes with the intention of telling you what -Grisaldo has done since he learnt Rosaura's abduction. And this morning -at sunrise we fell in with Galercio, who with tender and loving words -was urging Gelasia to love him well; but she with the strongest disdain -and scorn that can be told, bade him leave her presence, nor dare -ever to speak to her. And the hapless shepherd, crushed by so harsh a -bidding, and by cruelty so strange, wished to fulfil it, doing what you -have seen. All this is what has happened to me, my friends, since I -went from your presence. Think now whether I have more to weep for than -before, and whether the cause has grown for you to busy yourselves in -consoling me, if perchance my woe might admit of consolation.' - -Teolinda said no more, for the countless tears that came to her -eyes, and the sighs she wrung from her soul, hindered her tongue in -its office; and though the tongues of Galatea and Florisa wished to -show themselves skilful and eloquent in consoling her, their toil -was of little avail. And while this converse was passing between the -shepherdesses, the paper which Thyrsis had taken from Galercio's bosom -became dry, and being anxious to read it he took it and saw that it ran -thus: - - GALERCIO TO GELASIA. - - Angel in the guise of maid, - Fury with a lady's face, - Cold, and yet a glowing blaze, - Wherein my soul is assayed; - Hearken to the bitter wrong, - By thy lack of passion wrought, - Which hath from my soul been brought - And set these sad lines among. - - I write, not to move thine heart, - Since against thy breast of mail - Prayers nor cleverness avail, - Loyal service hath no part; - But that thou the wrong mayst see - Which thou dost inflict, I write, - And how ill thou dost requite - All the worth there is in thee. - - Just it is that liberty - Thou shouldst praise, and thou art right, - Yet, behold, 'tis held upright - Only by thy cruelty; - Just it is not to ordain - That thou wouldst be free from strife, - And yet thine unfettered life - On so many deaths sustain. - - That all men should love thee well - Do not fancy 'tis dishonour, - Do not fancy that thine honour - In the use of scorn doth dwell; - Nay, the cruelty restrain - Of the wrongs that thou dost do, - And be pleased with lovers few, - Thus a better name attain. - - For thy rigour doth proclaim - That wild beasts did give thee birth, - That the mountains of the earth - Formed thee, harsh, whom none may tame. - For therein is thy delight, - In the moorland and the mead, - Where thou canst not find indeed - One to set thy wish alight. - - Once I saw thee all alone, - Seated in a pleasant glade, - And, as I beheld, I said: - ''Tis a statue of hard stone.' - Thou didst move and thus my view - Thou didst prove to be mistaken, - 'Yet in mood,' I said, unshaken, - 'She is more than statue, true.' - - Would that thou a statue were, - Made of stone, for then I might - Hope that Heaven for my delight - Would thee change to woman fair! - For Pygmalion could not be - So devoted to his queen, - As I am and aye have been - And shall ever be to thee. - - Thou repayest, as is due, - Good and ill, I murmur not, - Glory for the good I wrought, - Suffering for the ill I do. - And this truth is shown abroad - In the way thou treatest me, - Life it gives me thee to see, - Thou dost slay me by thy mood. - - Of that breast which maketh bold - Love's encounters to despise, - May the fire that in my sighs - Gloweth, somewhat melt the cold, - May my tears this boon obtain, - Tears that never, never, rest, - That for one short hour thy breast - May be sweet and kind again. - - Well I know thou wilt declare - That I am too long; 'tis true, - My desire make less, I too - Then will lesser make my prayer; - But according to the way - Thou dost deal with my requests, - Thee it little interests - Whether less or more I pray. - - If I might in words essay - To reproach thy cruelty, - And that sign point out to thee - Which our weakness doth display, - I would say, when I did learn - What thou art, no longer blind: - 'Thou art rock, bear this in mind, - And to rock thou must return.' - - Whether rock or steel thou art, - Adamant or marble hard, - Steel, I am thy loving bard, - Rock, I love with all my heart; - Angel veiled, or fury, know - That the truth is all too plain, - I live, by the angel slain, - By the fury brought to woe. - -Galercio's verses seemed better to Thyrsis than Gelasia's disposition, -and wishing to show them to Elicio, he saw him so changed in hue and -countenance that he seemed the image of death. He went up to him, and -when he wished to ask him if any grief were distressing him, there was -no need to await his reply in order to learn the cause of his pain, for -straightway he heard it announced amongst all those who were there. Now -the two shepherds who helped Galercio, were friends of the Lusitanian -shepherd to whom the venerable Aurelio had agreed to marry Galatea, and -they were coming to tell him how the fortunate shepherd would come in -three days' time to his village to conclude that most happy betrothal. -And straightway Thyrsis saw that this news must needs cause in Elicio's -soul newer and stranger symptoms than had been caused; but nevertheless -he went up to him and said to him: - -'Now it is necessary, good friend, that you should know how to make use -of the discretion you have, since in the greatest peril hearts show -themselves courageous, and I assure you that there is something assures -me that this business must have a better end than you think. Dissemble -and be silent, for if Galatea's will takes no pleasure in conforming -wholly with her father's, you will satisfy yours, by availing yourself -of ours, and also of all the favour that can be offered you by all the -shepherds there are on the banks of this river, and on those of the -gentle Henares. And this favour I offer you, for I feel quite sure -that the desire all know I have to serve them, will constrain them to -act so that what I promise you here may not turn out vain.' - -Elicio remained amazed, seeing the generous and true offer of Thyrsis, -and could not nor did he know how to reply to him save by embracing him -closely and saying to him: - -'May Heaven reward you, discreet Thyrsis, for the consolation you have -given me, by which and by Galatea's will, which, as I think, will not -differ from ours, I understand without doubt that so notorious a wrong -as is being done to all these banks in banishing from them the rare -beauty of Galatea, shall not go further.' - -And, as he turned to embrace him, the lost colour returned to his face. -But it did not return to Galatea's, to whom hearing of the shepherds' -embassy was as if she heard her death-sentence. Elicio noted it all, -and Erastro could not ignore it, nor yet the discreet Florisa, nor -indeed was the news pleasing to any of those who were there. At this -hour the sun was already descending by his wonted course, and therefore -for this reason, as well as because they saw that the love-sick Lenio -had followed Gelasia, and there was nothing else left to do there, all -that company, taking Galercio and Maurisa with them, bent their steps -towards the village, and on coming close to it, Elicio and Erastro -remained in their huts, and with them remained Thyrsis, Damon, Orompo, -Crisio, Marsilio, Arsindo and Orfenio, with some other shepherds. The -fortunate Timbrio, Silerio, Nisida, and Blanca took leave of them -all with courteous words and offers, telling them that on the morrow -they intended to set out for the city of Toledo, where the end of -their journey was to be; and embracing all who were remaining with -Elicio, they departed with Aurelio, with whom went Florisa, Teolinda -and Maurisa, and the sad Galatea, so heart-broken and thoughtful that -with all her discretion she could not fail to give tokens of strange -unhappiness. With Daranio departed his wife Silveria and the fair -Belisa. Thereon the night closed in, and it seemed to Elicio that all -the roads to his pleasure were closed with it, and had it not been for -welcoming with cheerful mien the guests he had in his hut that night, -he would have spent it so badly that he would have despaired of seeing -the day. The wretched Erastro was passing through the same trouble, -though with more relief, for, without regarding anyone, with loud cries -and piteous words he cursed his fortune and Aurelio's hasty resolve. -This being so, when the shepherds had satisfied their hunger with some -rustic victuals, and some of them had yielded themselves to the arms -of peaceful sleep, the fair Maurisa came to Elicio's hut, and finding -Elicio at the door of his hut, took him aside and gave him a paper, -telling him it was from Galatea, and that he should read it at once, -for, since she was bringing it at such an hour, he should understand -that what it must contain was important. The shepherd, wondering at -Maurisa's coming, and more at seeing in his hands a paper from his -shepherdess, could not rest for a moment until he read it, and entering -his hut, read it by the light of a splinter of resinous pine, and saw -that it read thus: - - GALATEA TO ELICIO. - -'In my father's hasty resolve lies the resolve I have taken to write -to you, and in the violence he uses towards me lies the violence I -have used towards myself to reach this extreme. You well know in -what an extreme pass I am, and I know well that I would gladly see -myself in a better, that I might reward you somewhat for the much -I know I owe you. But if Heaven wishes me to remain in this debt, -complain of it, and not of my will. My father's I would gladly change, -if it were possible, but I see that it is not, and so I do not try -it. If you think of any remedy in that quarter, so long as prayers -have no part in it, put it into effect with the consideration you -owe to your reputation and hold due to my honour. He whom they are -giving me as husband, he who shall give me burial, is coming the day -after to-morrow; little time remains for you to take counsel, though -sufficient remains to me for repentance. I say no more save that -Maurisa is faithful and I unhappy.' - -The words of Galatea's letter set Elicio in strange confusion, as it -seemed to him a new thing both that she should write to him, since up -till then she had never done so, and that she should bid him seek a -remedy for the wrong that was being done her. But, passing over all -these things, he paused only to think how he should fulfil what was -bidden him, though he should hazard therein a thousand lives, if he -had so many. And as no other remedy offered itself to him save that -which he was awaiting from his friends, he made bold, trusting in them, -to reply to Galatea by a letter he gave to Maurisa, which ran in this -manner: - - ELICIO TO GALATEA. - -'If the violence of my strength came up to the desire I have to serve -you, fair Galatea, neither that which your father uses towards you, -nor the greatest in the world, would have power to injure you. But, -be that as it may, you will see now, if the wrong goes further, that -I do not lag behind in doing your bidding in the best way the case -may demand. Let the faithfulness you have known in me, assure you of -this, and show a good face to present fortune, trusting in coming -prosperity, for Heaven which has moved you to remember me and write to -me, will give me strength to show that I merit in part the favour you -have done me, for, if only it be obeying you, neither fear nor dread -will have power to prevent me putting into effect what befits your -happiness, and is of such import to mine. No more, for what more there -is to be in this, you will learn from Maurisa, to whom I have given -account of it; and if your opinion does not agree with mine, let me be -informed, in order that time may not pass by, and with it the season -of our happiness, which may Heaven give you as it can and as your -worth deserves.' - -Having given this letter to Maurisa, as has been said, he told her also -how he was intending to assemble as many shepherds as he could, and -that all should go together to speak to Galatea's father, asking him -as a signal favour to be so kind as not to banish from those meadows -her peerless beauty; and, should this not suffice, he was intending -to place such obstacles and terrors before the Lusitanian shepherd -that he himself would say that he was not content with what had been -agreed; and, should prayers and stratagems be of no avail, he was -resolved to use violence and thereby set her at liberty, and that with -the consideration for her reputation which could be expected from one -who loved her so much. With this resolve Maurisa went away, and the -same was taken straightway by all the shepherds that were with Elicio, -for he gave to them account of his intentions, asking for favour and -counsel in so difficult a plight. Straightway Thyrsis and Damon offered -to be those who should speak to Galatea's father. Lauso, Arsindo, and -Erastro, with the four friends, Orompo, Marsilio, Crisio and Orfenio, -promised to look for their friends and assemble them for the following -day, and to carry out with them whatsoever should be bidden them by -Elicio. In discussing what was best suited to the case, and in taking -this resolve, the greater part of that night passed away. And, the -morning having come, all the shepherds departed to fulfil what they had -promised, save Thyrsis and Damon, who remained with Elicio. And that -same day Maurisa came again to tell Elicio how Galatea was resolved -to follow his opinion in everything; Elicio took leave of her with -new promises and confidences; and with joyous countenance and strange -gaiety he was awaiting the coming day to see the good or evil issue -fortune was bestowing on his work. With this night came on, and, Elicio -repairing with Damon and Thyrsis to his hut, they spent almost all of -it in testing and taking note of all the difficulties that could arise -in that affair, if perchance Aurelio was not moved by the arguments -Thyrsis intended to bring before him. But Elicio, in order to give the -shepherds opportunity for repose, went out of his hut, and ascended a -green hill that rose before it; and there, girt round with solitude, he -was revolving in his memory all that he had suffered for Galatea, and -what he feared he would suffer, if Heaven did not favour his plans. -And without leaving this train of thought, to the sound of a soft -breeze that was gently blowing, with a voice sweet and low he began to -sing in this wise: - -ELICIO. - If 'midst this boiling sea and gulf profound - Of madness, 'midst the tempest's threatening strife, - I from so cruel a blow rescue my life, - And reach the haven, fortunate and sound, - - Each hand uplifted to the air around, - With humble soul and will contented, I - Shall make Love know my thanks, and Heaven on high, - For the choice bliss wherewith my life is crowned. - - Then fortunate shall I my sighings call, - My tears shall I account as full of pleasure, - The flame wherein I burn, refreshing cold. - - Love's wounds, I shall declare, are to the soul - Sweet, to the body wholesome, that no measure - Can mete his bliss, which boundless I behold. - -When Elicio ended his song, the cool dawn, with her fair cheeks of -many hues, was beginning to reveal herself by the Eastern gates, -gladdening the earth, sprinkling the grass with pearls, and painting -the meadows; whose longed-for approach the chattering birds straightway -began to greet with thousand kinds of harmonious songs. Thereon Elicio -arose and, stretching his eyes over the spacious plain, discovered -not far away two troops of shepherds, who, as it seemed to him, were -making their way towards his hut, as was the truth, for he straightway -recognised that they were his friends Lauso and Arsindo with others -whom they were bringing with them. And the others were Orompo, -Marsilio, Crisio and Orfenio, with as many of their friends as they -could assemble. Elicio then recognising them, descended from the hill -to go and welcome them; and when they came near to the hut, Thyrsis -and Damon, who were going to look for Elicio, were already outside it. -In the meantime all the shepherds came up and welcomed each other with -joyous countenance. And straightway Lauso, turning to Elicio, said to -him: - -'In the company we bring, you can see, friend Elicio, whether we are -beginning to give tokens of our wish to fulfil the word we gave you; -all whom you see here, come with the desire to serve you, though they -should hazard their lives therein. What is wanting is that you should -not be wanting in what may be most essential.' - -Elicio, with the best words he could, thanked Lauso and the others for -the favour they were doing him, and straightway told them all that it -had been agreed with Thyrsis and Damon to do in order to succeed in -that enterprise. What Elicio was saying seemed good to the shepherds; -and so, without more delay, they made their way towards the village, -Thyrsis and Damon going in front, and all the others following them, -who might be some twenty shepherds, the bravest and most graceful that -could be found on all the banks of the Tagus, and all were minded, if -the reasonings of Thyrsis did not move Aurelio to act reasonably in -what they asked him, to use force instead of reason, nor to consent -that Galatea should yield herself to the foreign shepherd; whereat -Erastro was as happy, as if a fair issue to that demand were to redound -to his happiness alone, for, rather than lose sight of Galatea, absent -and unhappy, he held it a good bargain that Elicio should win her, as -he thought he would, since Galatea must needs be so much indebted to -him. - -The end of this loving tale and history, with what happened to -Galercio, Lenio and Gelasia, Arsindo, Maurisa, Grisaldo, Artandro and -Rosaura, Marsilio and Belisa, with other things which happened to the -shepherds mentioned hitherto, is promised in the Second Part of this -history. Which, if it sees this First received with favourable wishes, -will have the boldness shortly to come out in order to be seen and -judged by the eyes and understanding of mankind. - - - - -[The following brief notes, based on Barrera's commentary, and -corrected or supplemented in the light of subsequent research, have -been drawn up in the hope that they may be of use to the general -reader. In a certain number of cases it has, unfortunately, been -impossible to trace the writings of those mentioned in the text. I -should gratefully receive any information concerning the men or their -works. In dealing with famous authors like Lope de Vega or Góngora, -whose subsequent careers have fulfilled Cervantes's prophecies, it has -been thought unnecessary to give details which can be found in every -history of Spanish literature. It has occasionally happened that a -writer is made the subject of a longer note than his actual importance -might seem, at first sight, to deserve. The justification for this -lies in the fact that such minor authors are more or less intimately -associated with Cervantes, or that the mention of their names affords -a convenient opportunity for discussing some point of interest in -connexion with his life or writings. - -For the sake of convenience in referring from one author to another, -the notes to the _Canto de Calíope_ have been numbered consecutively -throughout. J. F.-K.] - - - FOOTNOTES: - -[117] As the _Canto de Calíope_ professes to deal solely with living -poets--_algunos señalados varones que en esta vuestra España viven, -y algunos en las apartadas Indias á ella sujetas_--the Diego Mendoza -mentioned in the twentyfifth stanza cannot refer to the celebrated -historian who died ten years before the _Galatea_ was published. But -the above lament for Meliso is unquestionably dedicated to his memory. -The phrase _el aprisco veneciano_ is an allusion to Diego Hurtado de -Mendoza's embassy in Venice (1539-1547). It is not generally known -that Mendoza visited England as special Plenipotentiary in 1537-1538 -with the object of arranging two marriages: one between Mary Tudor -and Prince Luiz of Portugal, and one between Henry VIII. and Charles -V.'s handsome, witty niece, Dorothea of Denmark (afterwards Duchess of -Milan), who declined the honour on the ground that she had only one -head. Mendoza's mission was a diplomatic failure: nor does he seem -to have enjoyed his stay here. He was made much of, was banqueted -at Hampton Court, and confessed that life in England was pleasant -enough; but he sighed for Barcelona, and was glad to pass on to the -Low Countries and thence to Venice. See the _Calendar of State Papers -(Spain)_, vol. v. J. F.-K. - -[118] Leiva's work would seem to have disappeared. In the _Casa de -Memoria_, which forms part of the _Diversas Rimas_ (1591), Espinel -refers to an Alonso de Leiva in much the same terms as Cervantes uses -here:-- - - El ánimo gentil, el dulce llanto, - El blando estilo, con que enternecido - Don Alonso de Leyva quando canta - A Venus enamora, á Marte espanta. - -[119] Alonso de Ercilla y Zúñiga was born at Madrid in 1533. He -was page to Philip II at the latter's marriage with Mary Tudor in -Winchester Cathedral. He sailed for South America in 1555, served -against the Araucanos under García Hurtado de Mendoza, Marqués de -Cañete, quarrelled with a brother officer named Juan de Pineda, was -sentenced to death, reprieved at the last moment, and is said to have -been exiled to Callao. Ercilla returned to Spain in 1562, bringing -with him the First Part of his epic poem, _La Araucana_, which he had -composed during his campaigns. The original draft was scribbled on -stray pieces of paper and scraps of leather: "que no me costó después -poco trabajo juntarlos." This First Part was published at Madrid in -1569: the Second Part appeared in 1578, and the Third in 1590. The -author died, a disappointed man, in 1594. For a sound appreciation -of his talent see _L'Araucana, poème épique por D. Alonso de Ercilla -y Zúñiga. Morceaux choisis précedés d'une étude biographique et -littéraire, suivis de notes grammaticales, et de versification et de -deux lexiques_ (Paris, 1900) by M. Jean Ducamin. A critical edition -of _La Araucana_ by the eminent Chilean scholar, Sr. D. José Toribio -Medina, is in preparation. - -Cervantes expresses the highest opinion of _La Araucana_ in _Don -Quixote_ (Part I., chap. vi.) where he brackets it with Rufo's -_Austriada_ and Virués's _Monserrate_:--"These three books," said the -curate, "are the best that have been written in Castilian in heroic -verse, and they may compare with the most famous of Italy; let them be -preserved as the richest treasures of poetry that Spain possesses." - -[120] Barrera believed that the reference is to Juan de Silva, Conde de -Portalegre, afterwards Governor and Captain-General of the Kingdom of -Portugal. A collection of his letters is said to be in the Biblioteca -Nacional at Madrid: Silva is further stated to have revised the -manuscript of Hurtado de Mendoza's _Historia de la Guerra de Granada_, -first published (posthumously) by Luis de Tribaldos de Toledo at Lisbon -in 1627. He certainly wrote the introduction to Tribaldos de Toledo's -edition. - -Juan de Silva, Conde de Portalegre, is said by Jacques-Charles Brunet -(_Manuel du libraire et de l'amateur de livres_, Paris, 1861-1880, -vol. ii., col. 217) to be the author of a work entitled _Dell' unione -del regno di Portogallo alla corona di Castiglia, istoria del Sig. -Ieronimo di Franchi Conestaggio, gentilhuomo genovese_ (Genova, 1585). -This volume was in Montaigne's library (see M. Paul Bonnefon's valuable -contribution--_La Bibliothèque de Montaigne_--in the _Revue d'Histoire -littéraire de la France_, Paris, 1895, vol. ii., pp. 344-345): so -also was the Spanish version of López de Castanheda's _Historia_ (M. -Paul Bonnefon, _op. cit._, p. 362). A trace of both these works is -observable in the 1595 edition of the _Essais_ (liv. ii., chap. 21, -_Contre la fainéantise_). - -[121] The soldier, Diego Santisteban y Osorio, is known as the author -of a sequel to Ercilla's _Araucana_: his fourth and fifth parts were -published in 1597. - -[122] Barrera conjectures that the allusion is to Francisco Lasso de -Mendoza who wrote a prefatory sonnet for Luis Gálvez de Montalvo's -_Pastor de Fílida_: see note 24. - -[123] Barrera states that Diego de Sarmiento y Carvajal contributed -verses to the _Primera parte de la Miscelánea austral de don Diego -d'Avalós y Figueroa en varios coloquios_ (Lima, 1603). I have not seen -this work. - -[124] Barrera fails to give any particulars of Gutierre Carvajal of -whom, also, I find no trace in recent bibliographies. - -[125] Prefatory sonnets by the Toledan soldier, Luis de Vargas -Manrique, are found in Cervantes's _Galatea_ and in López Maldonado's -_Cancionero_, both published in 1585: see notes 23 and 34. - -[126] Francisco Campuzano practised medicine at Alcalá de Henares, -Cervantes's birthplace. In 1585 he contributed to López Maldonado's -_Cancionero_ and to Padilla's _Jardín espiritual_: another copy of his -verses precedes Gracián Dantisco's _Galateo español_ (1594): see notes -23, 27, and 34. - -[127] Francisco Suárez de Sosa, a native of Medina del Campo, practised -as a physician. Barrera states that Suárez de Sosa wrote _Del arte como -se ha de pelear contra los turcos_ (1549) and _De las ilustres mujeres -que en el mundo ha habido_; but I do not understand him to say that -either of these works was printed. Barrera conjectures that Suárez de -Sosa is introduced in the _Galatea_ under the name of Sasio. - -[128] Nothing seems to be known of Doctor Baza. - -[129] I have not succeeded in identifying the Licenciado Daza with -any of the Dazas mentioned by Bartolomé José Gallardo, _Ensayo de una -biblioteca española de libros raros y curiosos_ (Madrid, 1863-1889), -vol. ii., cols. 750-754. - -[130] The Maestro Garay, praised as a _divino ingenio_ in Lope de -Vega's _Arcadia_, is represented by a _glosa_, a copy of _redondillas_, -and five sonnets in Manuel Rivadeneyra's _Biblioteca de autores -españoles_, vol. xlii., pp. 510-511. - -[131] Cervantes's praise of the Maestro Córdoba is confirmed by Lope de -Vega in the _Laurel de Apolo_ (silva iv.):-- - - Hoy á las puertas de su templo llama - Una justa memoria, - Digna de honor y gloria, - Antes que pase el alto Guadarrama, - Que mi maestro Córdoba me ofrece, - Y las musas latinas me dan voces, - Pues con tan justa causa la merece. - -[132] Francisco Díaz, lecturer on philosophy and medicine at the -University of Alcalá de Henares, published a _Compendio de Cirujia_ -(Madrid, 1575). In 1588 Cervantes contributed a complimentary sonnet to -Díaz' treatise on kidney disease: _Tratado nuevamente impreso acerca de -las enfermedades de los riñones_. The occasion is certainly singular. -It does not seem that Díaz himself published any verse. - -[133] No trace of Luján's writings has, to my knowledge, been -discovered. It seems unlikely that Cervantes can refer to the Pedro -de Luján whose _Coloquios matrimoniales_ were published at Seville as -early as 1550: see Gallardo, _op. cit._, vol. iii., col. 553. - -[134] A prefatory sonnet by Juan de Vergara is found in López -Maldonado's _Cancionero_: see note 23. - -[135] It may be to this writer that Agustín de Rojas Villandrando -alludes in the _Viaje entretenido_ (1603):-- - - De los farsantes que han hecho - farsas, loas, bayles, letras - son Alonso de Morales, - Grajales, Zorita Mesa, etc. - -Two romances by an Alonso de Morales are given in Rivadeneyra, vol. -xvi., p. 248. - -[136] This prophecy has not been fulfilled: Hernando Maldonado's -writings appear to be lost. - -[137] Lope de Vega also finds place in the _Laurel de Apolo_ (silva -iii.) for - - Aquel ingenio, universal, profundo, - El docto Marco Antonio de la Vega, - Ilustre en verso y erudito en prosa. - -[138] This can scarcely refer to the famous diplomatist who died -in 1575. Possibly Cervantes may have alluded here to Captain Diego -de Mendoza de Barros, two of whose sonnets are included in Pedro -Espinosa's collection entitled _Flores de poetas ilustres de España_ -(1605). The sonnet on f. 65-- - - "Pedís, Reyna, un soneto, ya lo hago--" - -may have served as Lope de Vega's model for the celebrated Sonnet on -a Sonnet in _La Niña de plata_. A still earlier example in this kind -was given by Baltasar del Alcázar: see note 43. For French imitations -of this sonnet, see M. Alfred Morel-Fatio's article in the _Revue -d'Histoire littéraire de la France_ (Paris, July 15, 1896), pp. -435-439. See also Father Matthew Russell's _Sonnets on the Sonnet_ -(London, 1898), and a note in Sr. D. Adolfo Bonilla y San Martín's -Castilian version of my _History of Spanish Literature_ (Madrid, 1901), -p. 344. - -[139] Diego Durán contributed a prefatory poem to López Maldonado's -_Cancionero_: see note 23. Casiano Pellicer conjectured that Durán -figures in the _Galatea_ as Daranio: see the _Introduction_ to the -present version, p. xlviii, _n._ 2. - -[140] López Maldonado seems to have been on very friendly terms with -Lope de Vega and, more especially, with Cervantes. In _Don Quixote_ -(Part I., chap. vi), the latter writes:--"es grande amigo mio." Lope -and Cervantes both contributed prefatory verses to López Maldonado's -_Cancionero_ (1586) of which the Priest expressed a favourable opinion -when examining Don Quixote's library:--"it gives rather too much of its -eclogues, but what is good was never yet plentiful: let it be kept with -those that have been set apart." - -[141] Luis Gálvez de Montalvo is best remembered as the author of the -pastoral novel, _El Pastor de Fílida_ (1582); see the _Introduction_ to -the present version, pp. xxvi and xxxi. - -[142] Pedro Liñán de Riaza's poems have been collected in the first -volume of the _Biblioteca de escritores aragoneses_ (Zaragoza, 1876). -Concerning some supplementary pieces, omitted in this edition, see -Professor Emilio Teza, _Der Cancionero von Neapel_, in _Romanische -Forschungen_ (Erlangen, 1893), vol. vii., pp. 138-144. Sr. D. Adolfo -Bonilla y San Martín conjectures that Liñán de Riaza may have had -some part in connection with Avellaneda's spurious continuation of -_Don Quixote_: see the elaborate note in his Castilian version of my -_History of Spanish Literature_ (Madrid, 1901), pp. 371-374. - -[143] Alonso de Valdés wrote a prologue in praise of poetry to Vicente -Espinel's _Diversas rimas_: see note 46. - -[144] Pedro de Padilla and Cervantes were on excellent terms: "es amigo -mio," says the latter in _Don Quixote_ (Part I., chap. vi). Cervantes -contributed complimentary verses to Padilla's _Romancero_ (1583), to -his _Jardín espiritual_ (1585), and to his posthumous _Grandezas y -Excelencias de la Virgen_ (1587). Padilla died in August 1585, shortly -after the publication of the _Galatea_: his _Romancero_ has been -reprinted (1880) by the Sociedad de Bibliófilos españoles. - -[145] I have met with no other allusion to Gaspar Alfonso. - -[146] The _heróicos versos_ of Cristóbal de Mesa are of no remarkable -merit. Besides translations of Virgil, and the tragedy _Pompeyo_ -(1615), he published _Las Navas de Tolosa_ (1594), _La Restauración -de España_ (1607), the _Valle de lágrimas_ (1607), and _El Patrón de -España_ (1611). - -[147] Many Riberas figure in the bibliographies, but apparently none of -them is named Pedro. - -[148] Benito de Caldera's translation of Camões's _Lusiadas_ was issued -at Alcalá de Henares in 1580. Láinez, Garay, Gálvez de Montalvo, and -Vergara--all four eulogized in this _Canto de Calíope_--contributed -prefatory poems. - -[149] Besides a well-known _glosa_ on Jorge Manrique's _Coplas_, -Francisco de Guzmán published the _Triumphos Morales_ and the _Decretos -de Sabios_ at Alcalá de Henares in 1565. - -[150] This stanza is supposed by Barrera to refer to Juan de Salcedo -Villandrando who wrote a prefatory sonnet for Diego d'Avalós y -Figueroa's _Miscelánea austral_ (Lima, 1602). - -[151] This Tomás Gracián Dantisco was the grandson of Diego García, -_camarero mayor_ at the court of the Catholic Kings, and son of Diego -Gracián de Alderete, Secretary of State and official Interpreter during -the reigns of Charles V. and Philip II. The latter studied at the -University of Louvain where his name was wrongly Latinized as Gratianus -(instead of Gracianus), and, on his return to Spain, he adopted the -form Gracián. He married a daughter of Johannes de Curiis, called (from -his birthplace) Dantiscus, successively Bishop of Culm (June, 1530) and -of West Ermeland (January, 1538), and Polish ambassador at the court of -Charles V.: see Leo Czaplicki, _De vita et carminibus Joannis de Curiis -Dantisci_ (Vratislaviae, 1855). Some of Diego Gracián de Alderete's -letters are included by Sr. D. Adolfo Bonilla y San Martín in his very -interesting collection entitled _Clarorum Hispaniensium epistolae -ineditae_ (Paris, 1901), printed in the _Revue Hispanique_ (Paris, -1901), vol. viii., pp. 181-308. - -Tomás Gracián Dantisco succeeded his father as official Interpreter, -and published an _Arte de escribir cartas familiares_ (1589). His -brother, Lucás Gracián Dantisco, signed the _Aprobación_ to the -_Galatea_: see the _Introduction_ to the present version, p. x, _n._ 4. -Another brother, Antonio Gracián Dantisco, secretary to the King, was -a good Greek scholar. He translated a treatise by Hero of Alexandria -under the title _De los Pneumaticos, ó machuinas que se hazen por -atraccion de vacio_. The manuscript has apparently disappeared; but it -existed as late as the time of Nicolás Antonio (_Bibliotheca Hispana_, -Romae, 1672, vol. i., p. 98). See also Charles Graux' _Essai sur les -origines du fonds grec de l'Escurial_ (Paris, 1880), which forms the -46th _fascicule_ of the _Bibliothèque de l'École des Hautes Etudes_, -and an interesting note by M. Alfred Morel-Fatio in the _Bulletin -hispanique_ (Bordeaux, 1902), vol. iv., p. 282. - -[152] In the _Dorotea_ (Act iv. sc. ii.) Lope de Vega speaks of -"Bautista de Vivar, monstruo de naturaleza en decir versos de improviso -con admirable impulso de las musas"; but Vivar's merits must be taken -on trust, for his writings have not been printed. A certain Vivar, -author of some verses _á lo divino_, is mentioned by Gallardo (_op. -cit._, vol. i., col. 1023), but no specimens are given from the -manuscript which was in existence as late as November 1, 1844. - -The phrase--_monstruo de naturaleza_--applied by Lope to Vivar was -applied by Cervantes to Lope in the preface to his _Ocho Comedias -y ocho entremeses nuevos_ (Madrid, 1615). It occurs also in Lope's -_Hermosa Ester_, the autograph of which, dated April 5, 1610, is in -the British Museum Library, Egerton MSS. 547. Mr. Henry Edward Watts -(_Miguel de Cervantes, his life & works_, London, 1895, p. 109) -contends that Cervantes uses the expression "in bad part" (i.e. in a -sense derogatory to Lope), and cites as a parallel case the employment -of it in _Don Quixote_ (Part I. chap. xlvi) where Sancho Panza is -described as "monstruo de naturaleza, almario de embustes, silo de -bellaquerías, inventor de maldades, publicador de sandeces," and so -forth. The words _monstruo de naturaleza_ are, no doubt, open to two -interpretations. It is, however, inconceivable that Cervantes would -offer so gross an insult to his successful rival as is thus imputed -to him. In his bickerings with Lope, Cervantes may sometimes forget -himself, as will happen to the best of men at times; but such vulgarity -as this is absolutely unlike him. It may be as well to note that the -expression--_monstruo de naturaleza_--was current as a compliment long -before either Cervantes or Lope used it; it will be found in Pedro de -Cáceres y Espinosa's preliminary _Discurso_ to the poems of Gregorio -Silvestre published in 1582. - -Students of Spanish literary history will remember that Vivar's name -was introduced by one of the witnesses who appeared against Lope de -Vega when the latter was prosecuted for criminal libel at the beginning -of 1588. Luis Vargas de Manrique (mentioned in note 8) was reported -by this witness as saying that, on the internal evidence, one of the -scandalous ballads which formed the basis of the charge might be -attributed to four or five different persons: "it may be by Liñán -(mentioned in note 25) who is not here, or by Cervantes, and he is not -here, and, since it is not mine, it may be by Vivar, or by Lope de -Vega, though Lope de Vega, if he had written it, would not so malign -himself." See the _Proceso de Lope de Vega por libelo contra unos -cómicos_ (Madrid, 1901) by the Sres. Tomillo and Pérez Pastor. - -[153] Baltasar de Toledo's writings have not been traced. - -[154] Lope Félix de Vega Carpio was born at Madrid on November 25, -1562, and died there on August 27, 1635. A soldier, a poet, a novelist, -a dramatist, and a priest, he ranks next to Cervantes in the history of -Spanish literature. It is impossible to give any notion of his powers -within the compass of a note. According to Pérez de Montalbán, Lope -was the author of 1800 plays and 400 _autos_: some 400 plays and some -50 _autos_ survive, apart from innumerable miscellaneous works. Lope's -_Obras completas_ are now being issued by the Royal Spanish Academy -under the editorship of Sr. D. Marcelino Menéndez y Pelayo, and each -succeeding volume--thirteen quarto volumes have already been issued to -subscribers--goes to justify his immense reputation. A short summary of -his dramatic achievement is given in my lecture on _Lope de Vega and -the Spanish Drama_ (Glasgow and London, 1902); for fuller details of -this amazing genius and his work see Professor Hugo Albert Rennert's -admirable biography (Glasgow, 1903). - -[155] Francisco Pacheco, uncle of the author of the _Arte de la -pintura_, was born in 1535 and died in 1599. Some specimens of his -skill in writing occasional Latin verses are extant in Seville -Cathedral--of which he was a canon. A Latin composition from the same -pen will be found in Herrera's edition of Garcilaso, for which see note -39. - -[156] Fernando de Herrera, the chief of the Seville school of poets, -was born in 1534 and died in 1597. Herrera, who was a cleric but not a -priest, dedicated many of his poems (1582) to the Condesa de Gelves, -and there is interminable discussion as to whether these verses are to -be taken in a Platonic sense, or not. Besides being a distinguished -lyrical poet, Herrera proved himself an excellent critic in the -_Anotaciones_ in his edition of Garcilaso de la Vega (1580). This -commentary was the occasion of a clever, scurrilous attack, circulated -under the pseudonym of Prete Jacopín, by Juan Fernández de Velasco, -Conde de Haro, who resented the audacity of an Andaluz in presuming -to edit a Castilian poet. Haro evidently thought that invective was -an ornament of debate, for in _Observación XI._ he calls his opponent -_ydiotíssimo_, and in _Observación XXVII._ he calls Herrera an ass: -"sois Asno y no León." - -Cervantes was a great admirer of Herrera whose death he commemorated -in a sonnet. Moreover, he wove into the short dedication of the First -Part of _Don Quixote_ (to the Duque de Béjar) phrases borrowed from -the dedication in Herrera's edition of Garcilaso: see vol. iii. of the -present edition (Glasgow, 1901), pp. 3-4. - -[157] That _el culto Cangas_ had a high reputation appears from -the allusion in the _Restauración de España_ (lib. x. est. 108) of -Cristóbal de Mesa who also dedicated a sonnet to him in the _Rimas_ -(Madrid, 1611), f. 230. - -[158] Two sonnets by Cristóbal de Villaroel are given in Espinosa's -_Flores de poetas ilustres de España_ (1605). This extremely rare -work, together with the supplementary _Flores_ (1611) gathered by Juan -Antonio Calderón, has been edited with great skill by Sr. D. Francisco -Rodríguez Marín who, fortunately for students, undertook to finish the -work begun by Sr. D. Juan Quirós de los Ríos. Two additional sonnets by -Villaroel precede Enrique Garcés's rendering of Petrarch: see note 68. - -[159] Francisco de Medina was born at Seville about 1550 and died there -in 1615. This pleasing poet was of great assistance to Herrera in the -work of editing Garcilaso. Herrera's edition, which includes examples -of Medina's verse, also contains a preface by Medina which was utilized -by Cervantes in the dedication of the _First Part of Don Quixote_: see -note 39 and vol. iii. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1901), pp. 3-4. - -[160] Baltasar del Alcázar was born in 1540 and died in 1606. His -graceful, witty poems were reissued in 1878 by the Sociedad de -Bibliófilos Andaluces. Alcázar's Sonnet on a Sonnet (see note 21) lacks -a line in the version printed by Gallardo, _op. cit._, vol. i., col. 75. - -[161] Cristóbal Mosquera de Figueroa was born in 1553 and died in 1610. -He is best known as the author of a _Comentario en breve compendio -de disciplina militar_ (Madrid, 1596) for which Cervantes wrote a -sonnet on the famous Marqués de Santa Cruz. Specimens of Mosquera de -Figueroa's verse are to be found in Herrera's edition of Garcilaso. - -[162] The Sevillian priest, Domingo de Becerra, as appears from -Fernández de Navarrete's _Vida de Cervantes Saavedra_ (Madrid, 1819, -pp. 386-387), was a prisoner in Algiers with Cervantes, and was -ransomed at the same time as the latter. Becerra was then (1580) -forty-five years of age. He translated Giovanni Della Casa's _Il -Galateo_, and published his version at Venice in 1585. - -[163] Vicente Espinel was born in 1550 and is conjectured to have died -between 1624 and 1634. He is said to have added a fifth string to the -guitar, and to have introduced _espinelas_: "perdónesele Dios," is -Lope's comment in the _Dorotea_ (act. i. sc. vii.). Espinel's _Diversas -rimas_ (1591) are now only known to students; but his picaresque -novel, _Marcos de Obregón_ (Madrid, 1618), still finds, and deserves -to find, many readers. In the 1775 edition of the _Siècle de Louis -XIV._ Voltaire alleged that _Gil Blas_ was "entièrement pris du roman -espagnol _La Vidad de lo Escudiero Dom Marcos d'Obrego_." It will be -observed that, in transcribing the title, Voltaire makes almost as many -mistakes as the number of words allows. His statement is a grotesque -exaggeration, but it had the merit of suggesting a successful practical -joke to José Francisco de Isla. This sly wag translated _Gil Blas_ into -Spanish, mischievously pretending that the book was thus "restored to -its country and native language by a jealous Spaniard who will not -allow his nation to be made fun of." Unluckily, the naughty Jesuit did -not live to see the squabbles of the learned critics who fell into the -trap that he had baited for them. It is, by the way, a curious and -disputed point whether the Comte de Neufchâteau's celebrated _Examen -de la question de savoir si Lesage est l'auteur de Gil Blas ou s'il -l'a pris de l'espagnol_ (1818) was, or was not, taken word for word -from a juvenile essay by Victor Hugo: see _Victor Hugo raconté par -un témoin de sa vie_ (Bruxelles and Leipzig, 1863), vol. i., p. 396. -In the _Adjunta al Parnaso_ Cervantes calls Espinel "uno de los más -antiguos y verdaderos amigos que yo tengo." In his _Rimas_ Espinel -had been most complimentary to Cervantes. But Pellicer and Fernández -de Navarrete have spoken harshly of him for being (as they imagined) -jealous of the success of _Don Quixote_; and Mr. Henry Edward Watts -(_op. cit._, p. 157, _n._ 1) asserts that Espinel "took occasion -after Cervantes' death to speak of his own _Marcos de Obregón_ ... -as superior to _Don Quixote_." This is not so. There may be authors -who suppose that their immortal masterpieces are superior to the -ephemeral writings of everybody else: but they seldom say this--at -least, in print. Nor did Espinel. It must suffice, for the moment, -to note that the above-mentioned fable is mainly based on the fact -that the Gongoresque poet and preacher, Hortensio Félix Paravicino y -Arteaga, wrote as follows in his _Aprobación to Marcos de Obregón_: "El -Libro del Escudero, que escriuio el Maestro Espinel, y V. M. me manda -censurar, he visto, y no hallo en el cosa que se oponga à nuestra santa -Fè Catolica Romana, ni ofenda à la piedad de las buenas costumbres -della, antes de los libros deste género, que parece de entretenimiento -comun, es el que con más razón deue ser impreso, por tener el prouecho -tan cerca del deleyte, que sin perjudicar enseña, y sin diuertir -entretiene: el estilo, la inuencion, el gusto de las cosas, y la -moralidad, que deduze dellas, arguyen bien la pluma que la ha escrito, -tan justamente celebrada en todas naciones. A mi alomenos de los libros -deste argumento me parece la mejor cosa que nuestra lengua tendrà, y -que V.m. deue darle vna aprouacion muy honrada. Guarde nuestro Señor à -V. M." - -It is Paravicino, not Espinel, who speaks: and the eulogistic phrases -which he uses do not exceed the limits of the recognized convention on -such occasions. - -[164] Jerónimo Sánchez de Carranza was introduced to England by Ben -Jonson as an authority on honour and arms. Bobadil, in _Every Man in -his humour_ (Act 1, sc. 4) says:--"By the foot of Pharaoh, an' 'twere -my case now I should send him a chartel presently. The bastinado, -a most proper and sufficient dependence, warranted by the great -Carranza." Carranza wrote the _Philosophia y destreza de las armas_ -(Sanlúcar de Barrameda, 1582); a later treatise, the _Libro de las -grandezas de la espada_ (Madrid, 1600) was issued by the counter-expert -of the next generation, Luis Pacheco de Narváez. I need scarcely remind -most readers that Pacheco de Narváez, the famous fencing-master, was -ignominiously disarmed by Quevedo--an incomparable hand with the foil, -despite his lameness and short sight. Pacheco naturally smarted under -the disgrace, and seems to have shown his resentment in an unpleasant -fashion whenever he had an opportunity. The respective merits of -Carranza and Pacheco divided Madrid into two camps. Literary men were -prominent in the fray. Suárez de Figueroa, Vélez de Guevara, and Ruiz -de Alarcón declared for Pacheco. Among Carranza's partisans were Luis -Mendoza de Carmona and, as might be expected, Quevedo who mentions the -_Libro de las grandezas de la espada_ in his _Historia de la vida del -Buscón_ (lib. i. cap. viii.). - -[165] Two sonnets by Lázaro Luis Iranzo are given in Rivadeneyra, _op. -cit._, vol. iv., pp. 180, 364. - -[166] Baltasar de Escobar is represented in Espinosa's _Flores de -poetas ilustres_: a complimentary letter addressed by Escobar to -Cristóbal de Virués is printed in Rivadeneyra, _op. cit._, vol. lxii., -p. 37. - -[167] A sonnet on the sack of Cádiz by Juan Sanz de Zumeta is given in -Juan Antonio Pellicer's edition of _Don Quixote_ (Madrid, 1797-1798), -vol. i., p. lxxxvi. - -[168] The correct, full form of this writer's name seems to be Juan -de la Cueva de Garoza. He is conjectured to have been born in 1550 -and to have died in 1609. This interesting dramatist was among the -most distinguished of Lope de Vega's immediate predecessors, and in -such plays as _El Cerco de Zamora_ he comes near anticipating Lope's -methods. In his _Exemplar poético_ (1609) Cueva declares that he -was the first to bring kings upon the stage, an innovation that was -censured at the time:-- - - A mi me culpan de que fuí el primero - que Reyes y Deydades di al teatro - de las Comedias traspasando el fuero. - -Evidently Cueva did not know that Torres Naharro introduces a king in -his _Aquilana_. A reprint of Cueva's plays is urgently needed: his -purely poetic work is of slight value. An edition of _El Viage de -Sannio_, with an admirable Introduction by Professor Fredrik Amadeus -Wulff will be found in the _Acta Universitatis Lundensis_ (Lund, -1887-1888), (Philosophi, Språkvetenskap och Historia), vol. xxiii. - -[169] Nothing by Adán Vivaldo has survived, apparently. Cervantes -assigns this surname to a minor character in _Don Quixote_ (Part I., -chap. xiii.). - -[170] It would be interesting to know how far this panegyric on Juan -Aguayo was justified. I have failed to find any information concerning -him or his works. - -[171] The dates of the birth and death of the Cordoban poet, Juan Rufo -Gutiérrez, are given conjecturally as 1530 and 1600. Cervantes esteemed -Rufo's _Austriada_ inordinately: see note 2. In truth the _Austriada_ -is a tedious performance, being merely a poor rhythmical arrangement -of Diego Hurtado de Mendoza's _Guerra de Granada_. Mendoza's history -was not published till 1627, long after the author's death (1575). It -was issued at Lisbon by Luis Tribaldos de Toledo who, in the previous -year, had brought out a posthumous edition of the poems of Francisco de -Figueroa--the Tirsi of the _Galatea_. Evidently, then, Rufo read the -_Guerra de Granada_ in manuscript: see M. Foulché-Delbosc's article in -the _Revue hispanique_ (Paris, 1894), vol. i., pp. 137-138, _n._ - -[172] Luis de Góngora y Argote was born in 1561 and died in 1627. -His father, Francisco de Argote, was Corregidor of Córdoba, and it -has been generally stated that the poet assumed his mother's maiden -name. However, the Sra. Doña Blanca de los Ríos y de Lampérez alleges -that Góngora's real name was Luis de Argote y Argote: see an article -entitled _De vuelta de Salamanca in La España moderna_ (Madrid, June -1897). I do not know precisely upon what ground this statement is -made. Despite the perverse affectations into which his _culteranismo_ -led him, Góngora is one of the most eminent Spanish poets, and -unquestionably among the greatest artists in Spanish literature. A -passage in the _Viaje del Parnaso_ (cap. vii.) seems to imply that -Cervantes admired Góngora's very obscure work, the _Polifemo_:-- - - De llano no le déis, dadle de corte, - Estancias Polifemas, al poeta - Que no os tuviere por su guía y norte. - Inimitables sois, y á la discreta - Gala que descubrís en lo escondido - Toda elegancia puede estar sujeta. - -M. Foulché-Delbosc has in preparation a complete edition of Góngora's -works. - -[173] Barrera conjectures that this Gonzalo Cervantes Saavedra may be -the author of a novel entitled _Los Pastores del Betis_, published at -Trani in 1633-4. I do not know this work, which may have been issued -posthumously. It seems unlikely that Gonzalo Cervantes Saavedra began -novel-writing when over seventy years old: for we may take it that he -was over twenty when his namesake praised him, as above, in 1585. - -[174] Gonzalo Gómez de Luque wrote the _Libro primero de los famosos -hechos del príncipe Don Celidon de Iberia_ (Alcalá de Henares, 1583); -but the only works of his with which I am acquainted are the verses in -Padilla's _Jardín espiritual_ and López Maldonado's _Cancionero_: see -notes 27 and 23. - -[175] Two sonnets by Gonzalo Mateo de Berrío are included in Espinosa's -_Flores de poetas ilustres_. Espinel refers to him in the preface -to _Marcos de Obregón_: Lope mentions him in the _Laurel de Apolo_ -(silva ii.) and in the _Dorotea_ (Act iv., sc. ii.) Berrío signed the -_Aprobación_ to Cairasco de Figueroa's _Templo militante_: see note 73. - -[176] Luis Barahona de Soto was born in 1548 at Lucena (Lucena de -Córdoba and not Lucena del Puerto, as Barrera supposed). After some -wanderings he settled at Archidona where he practised medicine. He is -said to have died _ab intestato_ on November 6, 1595. A complimentary -sonnet by him appears in Cristóbal de Mesa's _Restauración de España_ -(Madrid, 1607): it would seem, therefore, that Mesa's _Restauración_ -must have been in preparation for at least a dozen years. Some -verses by Barahona de Soto are given in Espinosa's _Flores de poetas -ilustres_: four of his satires, and his _Fábula de Acteón_ are printed -in Juan José López de Sedano's _Parnaso Español_ (Madrid, 1768-1778), -vol. ix., pp. 53-123. Barahona de Soto's best known work is _La primera -parte de la Angélica_ (Granada, 1586) which, in the colophon, has the -alternative title of _Las lágrimas de Angélica_. There is a famous -allusion to this work in _Don Quixote_ (Part I., chap. vi.):--"I should -have shed tears myself," said the curate when he heard the title, "had -I ordered that book to be burned, for its author was one of the famous -poets of the world, not to say of Spain, and was very happy in the -translation of some of Ovid's fables." As Mr. Ormsby observed:--"The -anti-climax here almost equals Waller's:-- - - 'Under the tropic is our language spoke, - And part of Flanders hath received our yoke'." - -See vol. iii. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1901), p. 53, _n._ 3. -It has often been questioned whether Barahona de Soto ever wrote a -Second Part of the _Angélica_. Since the publication of the _Diálogos -de la Montería_ (Madrid, 1890) by the Sociedad de Bibliófilos -Españoles, under the editorship of Sr. D. Francisco R. de Uhagón, -it seems practically certain that he at all events began the Second -Part, if he did not finish it. The _Diálogos de la Montéria_ contain -numerous passages quoted from the Second Part; and in a biographical, -bibliographical and critical study, which Sr. D. Francisco Rodríguez -Marín is now correcting for the press, it will be shown that Barahona -de Soto was, in all probability, himself the author of these _Diálogos_. - -[177] A sonnet by Francisco de Terrazas figures in Pedro Espinosa's -_Floresta de poetas ilustres de España_: three more sonnets by Terrazas -will be found in Gallardo, vol. i., _op. cit._, cols. 1003-1007. - -[178] Barrera does not help us to discover anything of Martínez de -Ribera, who may have published in the Indies. - -[179] Barrera vaguely infers from the text that Alonso Picado was a -native of Peru. - -[180] Alonso de Estrada is conjectured by Barrera to have been born in -the Indies. - -[181] Nothing seems to be known of Avalos y de Ribera. - -[182] I have never met with any of Sancho de Ribera's writings: a -sonnet to him is found among Garcés's translations from Petrarch: see -note 68. - -[183] A sonnet by Pedro de Montesdoca, _El Indiano_, is prefixed to -Vicente Espinel's _Diversas rimas_ (1591). - -[184] A sonnet by Diego de Aguilar precedes Garcés's translation of -Camões's _Lusiadas_: see note 68. I presume him to be the author of -another prefatory sonnet in López Maldonado's _Cancionero_. - -[185] No information is forthcoming as to Gonzalo Fernández de -Sotomayor or his works. - -[186] Henrique Garcés published _Los sonetos y canciones del Poeta -Francisco Petrarcha_ (Madrid, 1591), and _Los Lusiadas de Luys de -Camoes_ (Madrid, 1591). - -[187] The _vena inmortal_ of Rodrigo Fernández de Pineda does not seem -to have expressed itself in print. - -[188] The name of Juan de Mestanza recurs in the _Viaje del Parnaso_ -(cap. vii.). - -[189] An American, so Barrera thinks: there is no trace of his writings. - -[190] Another American, according to Barrera; there is no trace of his -writings either. - -[191] Bartolomé Cairasco de Figueroa was born at the Canaries in 1540, -became Prior of the Cathedral there, and died in 1610. His _Templo -militante, flos santorum, y triumphos de sus virtudes_ was issued in -four parts: (Valladolid, 1602), (Valladolid, 1603), (Madrid, 1609), and -(Lisbon, 1614). Selections are given in Juan José López de Sedano's -_Parnaso español_ (Madrid, 1768-1778), vol. v., pp. 332-363, and -vol. vi., pp. 191-216. Cairasco de Figueroa wrote a prefatory poem -to Carranza's _Libro de las grandezas de la espada_: see note 47. -According to the Spanish annotators of Ticknor's _History_, Cairasco -left behind him a version (unpublished) of Ariosto's _Gerusalemme_. - -[192] Barrera states that a sonnet by Damián de Vega is prefixed -to Juan Bautista de Loyola's _Viaje y naufragios del Macedonio_ -(Salamanca, 1587). I do not know this work. - -[193] The celebrated scholar, Francisco Sánchez, usually called _El -Brocense_ from his native place, was born at Las Brozas (Extremadura) -in 1523, became professor of Greek and Rhetoric at Salamanca, and -died in 1601. He edited Garcilaso (Salamanca, 1581), Juan de Mena -(Salamanca, 1582), Horace (Salamanca, 1591), Virgil (Salamanca, 1591), -Politian's _Silvae_ (Salamanca, 1596), Ovid (Salamanca, 1598), Persius -(Salamanca, 1599). To these should be added the _Paradoxa_ (Antwerp, -1582), and a posthumous commentary on Epictetus (Pamplona, 1612). -_A Practical Grammar of the Latin Tongue_, based on Sánchez, was -published in London as recently as 1729. _El Brocense_ was prosecuted -by the Inquisition in 1584, and again in 1588. The latter suit was -still dragging on when Sánchez died. See the _Colección de documentos -inéditos para la historia de España_ (Madrid, 1842, etc.), vol. ii., -pp. 5-170. - -[194] The lawyer Francisco de la Cueva y Silva was born at Medina -del Campo about 1550. His verses appear in Pedro Espinosa's _Flores -de poetas ilustres de España_; he wrote a prefatory poem for Escobar -Cabeza de Vaca's _Luzero de la tierra sancta_, and is said to be the -author of a play entitled _El bello Adonis_. Lope de Vega's _Mal -Casada_ is dedicated to Cueva whose high professional reputation may be -inferred from the closing lines of a well-known sonnet by Quevedo:-- - - Todas las leyes, con discurso fuerte - Venció; y ansí parece cosa nueva, - Que le vinciese, siendo ley, la muerte. - -Cueva is mentioned, together with Berrío (see note 58), in the -_Dorotea_ (Act. iv. sc. ii.): "Don Francisco de la Cueva, y Berrío, -jurisconsultos gravísimos, de quien pudiéramos decir lo que de Dino y -Alciato, interpretes consultísimos de las leyes y poetas dulcísimos, -escribieron comedias que se representaron con general aplauso." - -[195] The famous mystic writer and poet Luis Ponce de León was born -at Belmonte (Cuenca) in 1527, joined the Augustinian Order in 1544, -and was appointed professor of theology at Salamanca in 1561. He -became involved in an academic squabble and was absurdly suspected -of conspiring with the professors of Hebrew, Martín Martínez de -Cantalapiedra and Juan Grajal, to interpret the Scriptures in a -rabbinical sense. A plot seems to have been organized against him by -Bartolomé de Medina, and, perhaps, by León de Castro, the professor -of Greek at Salamanca. Luis de León was likewise accused of having -translated the _Song of Songs_ in the vernacular, and it has hitherto -been thought that this charge told most heavily against him in the -eyes of the Holy Office. It now appears that the really damaging -accusation in the indictment referred to the supposed heterodoxy of -Fray Luis's views as to the authority of the Vulgate: see a learned -series of chapters entitled _Fray Luis de León; estudio biográfico y -crítico_ published by the Rev. Father Francisco Blanco García (himself -an Augustinian monk) in _La Ciudad de Dios_ (from January 20, 1897 -onwards, at somewhat irregular intervals). Luis de León was arrested in -March 1572 and imprisoned till December 1576, when he was discharged as -innocent. In 1579 he was appointed to the chair of Biblical History at -Salamanca, his chief competitor being Fray Domingo de Guzmán, son of -the great poet Garcilaso de la Vega. In 1582 Fray Luis was once more -prosecuted before the Inquisition because of his supposed heterodoxy -concerning the question _de auxiliis_: see the _Segundo proceso -instruído por la Inquisición de Valladolid contra Fray Luis de León_ -(Madrid, 1896), annotated by the Rev. Father Francisco Blanco García. -In 1591 Fray Luis was elected Provincial of the Augustinian Order: -he died ten days later. While in jail he wrote what is, perhaps, the -noblest mystic work in the Spanish language, _Los Nombres de Cristo_, -the first two books of which were published in 1583--the complete work -(including a third book) being issued in 1585. In 1583 also appeared -his _Perfecta casada_. Fray Luis, in a fortunate hour for mankind, -edited the writings of Santa Teresa, rescuing from the rash tamperings -of blunderers works which he instantly recognized as masterpieces. His -verses were published by Quevedo in 1631: they at once gave Fray Luis -rank as one of the great Spanish poets, though he himself seems to have -looked upon them as mere trifles. - -[196] Matías de Zúñiga, whose genius Cervantes here declares to have -been divine, does not appear to have published anything. - -[197] Certain poems ascribed to Damasio de Frías are given by Juan José -López de Sedano in _El Parnaso Español_ (Madrid, 1768-1778), vols. ii. -and vii. - -[198] Barrera merely states that Andrés Sanz del Portillo resided in -Castilla la Vieja: his writings have not reached us. - -[199] Possibly this writer may be identical with the Pedro de Soria who -contributed a sonnet to Jerónimo de Lomas Cantoral's _Obras_: see note -83. - -[200] The _Obras_ of Jerónimo de Lomas Cantoral appeared at Madrid in -1578. They include translations of three _canzoni_ by Luigi Tansillo. - -[201] Jerónimo Vaca y de Quiñones contributed a sonnet to Pedro de -Escobar Cabeza de Vaca's _Luzero de la tierra sancta, y grandezas de -Egypto, y monte Sinay_ (Valladolid, 1587): see note 77. - -[202] Lupercio Leonardo de Argensola was born in 1559, and died in -1613 at Naples, whither he had accompanied the Conde de Lemos three -years earlier. His admirable poems, and those of his brother, were -issued posthumously in 1634: see note 86. His _Isabela_, _Fílis_ and -_Alejandra_ are praised in _Don Quixote_ as "three tragedies acted in -Spain, written by a famous poet of these kingdoms, which were such that -they filled all who heard them with admiration, delight, and interest, -the ignorant as well as the wise, the masses as well as the higher -orders, and brought in more money to the performers, these three alone, -than thirty of the best that have since been produced": see vol. iv. of -the present edition (Glasgow, 1901), p. 214. The _Fílis_ seems to be -lost. The _Isabela_ and _Alejandra_, neither of them very interesting, -were first published in 1772 by Juan José López de Sedano in _El -Parnaso Español_ (Madrid, 1768-1778), vol. vi., pp. 312-524. There may -be a touch of friendly exaggeration in Cervantes's account of their -success on the boards. At all events, the author of these pieces soon -abandoned the stage, and, when the theatres were closed on the death -of the Queen of Piedmont, he was prominent among those who petitioned -that the closure might be made permanent. A Royal decree in that sense -was issued on May 2, 1598. In the following year Lupercio Leonardo -de Argensola was appointed chief chronicler of Aragón. The _Isabela_ -and _Alejandra_ are reprinted in the first volume of the Conde de la -Viñaza's edition of the Argensolas' _Poesías sueltas_ (Madrid, 1889). - -[203] Bartolomé Leonardo de Argensola was born in 1562 and died in -1631. He took orders, became Rector of Villahermosa, and succeeded his -brother as official chronicler of Aragón. He published the _Conquista -de las Islas Malacas_ (Madrid, 1609), and the _Anales de Aragón_ -(Zaragoza, 1631)--the latter being a continuation of Jerónimo de -Zurita's _Anales de la Corona de Aragón_ (1562-1580). The poems of both -brothers were issued by Lupercio's son, Gabriel Leonardo de Albión, in -a volume entitled _Las Rimas que se han podido recoger_ _de Lupercio, -y del Doctor Bartolomé Leonardo de Argensola_ (Zaragoza, 1634). Lope -de Vega had a great esteem for the Argensolas whose polished diction, -rare in men of Aragonese birth, he regarded as an antidote to the -extravagances--the _frases horribles_, as he says--of _culteranismo_. -The very considerable merits of the Argensolas were likewise -appreciated by Cervantes who, however, seems to have cooled somewhat -towards the brothers when the Conde de Lemos, on his appointment as -Viceroy of Naples, attached them to his household. It is said that -Cervantes himself hoped to form part of Lemos's suite, and that he was -annoyed with the Argensolas for not pushing his claims as vigorously as -he expected of them. At this distance of time, it is impossible for us -to know what really happened; but a passage in the _Viaje del Parnaso_ -(cap. iii.) does appear to imply that Cervantes had a grievance of some -kind against the Argensolas:-- - - Que no sé quien me dice, y quien me exhorta, - Que tienen para mi, á lo que imagino, - La voluntad, como la vista corta. - -[204] The writings of Cosme Pariente are unknown to Barrera, and to -later bibliographers. - -[205] Diego Murillo was born at Zaragoza about 1555, joined the -Franciscans, and became a popular preacher. He is the author of the -_Instruccion para enseñar la virtud á los principiantes_ (Zaragoza, -1598), the _Escala espiritual para la perfección evangélica_ (Zaragoza, -1598), the _Vida y excelencias de la Madre de Dios_ (Zaragoza, 1610), -and six volumes of _Discursos predicables_, published at Zaragoza and -Lisbon between 1602 and 1611. The most accessible of Murillo's works -are the _Fundación milagrosa de la capilla angélica y apostólica de -la Madre de Dios del Pilar_ (Barcelona, 1616), and a volume entitled -_Divina, dulce y provechosa poesía_ (Zaragoza, 1616). His verse (some -specimens of which are given in Böhl de Faber's _Floresta de rimas -antiguas castellanas_) is better than his prose, but in neither does he -fulfil the expectations raised by Cervantes's compliments. - -[206] Juan Coloma, Conde de Elda, is responsible for a _Década de la -Pasión de Jesu Christo_ (Cádiz, 1575). - -[207] Pedro Luis Garcerán de Borja is also introduced by Gil Polo -in the _Canto del Turia_: see note 94. He held the appointment of -Captain-General of Oran, where Cervantes may have met him: at the time -of his death in 1592 he was Captain-General of Catalonia. - -[208] Alonso Girón y de Rebolledo is likewise introduced by Gil -Polo in the _Canto del Turia_: see note 94. His _Pasión de nuestro -Señor Jesu Christo según Sanct Joan_ (Valencia, 1563) met with -considerable success. It contains a complimentary sonnet by Gil Polo: -in the following year Girón y de Rebolledo repaid the attention by -contributing a sonnet to Gil Polo's _Diana enamorada_. - -[209] Jaime Juan de Falcon, like Garcerán de Borja and Girón y de -Rebolledo, figures in Gil Polo's _Canto del Turia_: see note 94. He -was born in 1522 and died in 1594, having (as he believed) squared -the circle. Amongst other works he published the _Quadratura circuli_ -(Valencia, 1587): his _Obras poéticas latinas_ (Madrid, 1600) appeared -posthumously. - -[210] Andrés Rey de Artieda was born in 1549 and died in 1613. His -youth was one of rare promise. Though not yet fourteen years old when -Gil Polo wrote the _Diana enamorada_, he is introduced to us as a poet -in the _Canto del Turia_:-- - - y prometernos han sus tiernas flores - frutos entre los buenos los mejores. - -This phrase may have been in Cervantes's mind when writing of his own -play, _La Confusa_: "la cual, con paz sea dicho de cuantas comedias de -capa y espada hasta hoy se han representado, bien puede tener lugar -señalado par buena entre las mejores" (see the _Adjunta al Parnaso_). - -Artieda graduated in arts at the University of Valencia in 1563, and -studied later at Lérida and Tolosa, taking his degree as doctor of both -civil and canonical law at the age of twenty. This brilliant academic -success was received _con aplauso y pronósticos extraños_, and a great -future seemed to await him. However, he was something of a rolling -stone. He practised for a short while at the bar, but abandoned the -profession in disgust and entered the army. Here, again, he seemed -likely to carry all before him. In his first campaign he was promoted -at a bound to the rank of captain, but his luck was now run out. Like -Cervantes, he received three wounds at Lepanto. He was present at the -relief of Cyprus, and served under Parma in the Low Countries. His -intrepidity was proverbial, and he is said to have swum across the Ems -in midwinter, his sword gripped between his teeth, under the enemy's -fire. These heroic feats do not appear to have brought him advancement, -and, in the _Viaje del Parnaso_ (cap. iii.), Cervantes, who would seem -to have known him personally, speaks of Artieda grown old as-- - - Más rico de valor que de moneda. - -Artieda is said to have written plays entitled _El Príncipe vicioso_, -_Amadís de Gaula_, and _Los Encantos de Merlín_: he is the author of -a mediocre tragedy, _Los Amantes_ (Valencia, 1581) which may have -been read by Tirso de Molina before he wrote _Los Amantes de Teruel_. -Artieda published an anthology of his verses under the pseudonym of -Artemidoro: _Discursos, epístolas y epigramas de Artemidoro_ (Zaragoza, -1605). Some passages in this collection express the writer's hostility -to the new drama, and betray a certain pique at the success of his -former friend, Lope de Vega. Lope, however, praises Artieda very -generously in the _Laurel de Apolo_ (silva ii.). - -[211] Gaspar Gil Polo published the _Diana enamorada_ at Valencia in -1564. The Priest in _Don Quixote_ decided that it should "be preserved -as if it came from Apollo himself": see vol. iii. of the present -edition (Glasgow, 1901), p. 51. It is unquestionably a work of unusual -merit in its kind, but some deduction must be made from Cervantes's -hyperbolical praise: he evidently succumbed to the temptation of -playing on the words Polo and Apollo. - -Gaspar Gil Polo is said by Ticknor to have been professor of Greek -at Valencia. There was a Gil Polo who held the Greek chair in the -University of that city between 1566 and 1574: but his name was not -Gaspar. Nicolás Antonio and others maintain that the author of the -_Diana enamorada_ was the celebrated lawyer, Gaspar Gil Polo, who -appeared to plead before the Cortes in 1626. This Gaspar Gil Polo -was a mere boy when the _Diana enamorada_ was issued sixty-two years -earlier. He was probably the son of the author: see Justo Pastor -Fuster, _Biblioteca Valenciana de las escritores que florecieron hasta -nuestros días_ (Valencia, 1827-1830), vol. i., pp. 150-155, and--more -especially--Professor Hugo Albert Rennert, _The Spanish Pastoral -Romances_ (Baltimore, 1892), p. 31. - -As already stated in note 91, Gil Polo contributed a sonnet to Girón -y de Rebolledo's _Pasión_, which appeared a year before the _Diana -enamorada_. Another of his sonnets is found in Sempere's _Carolea_ -(1560). In the _Serao de Amor_, Timoneda speaks of him as a celebrated -poet; but, as we see from the _Canto de Calíope_ itself, these -flourishes and compliments often mean next to nothing. It is somewhat -strange that Gil Polo, who is said to have died at Barcelona in 1591, -did not issue a sequel to his _Diana enamorada_ during the twenty-seven -years of life which remained to him after the publication of the First -Part in 1564. At the end of the _Diana enamorada_ he promised a Second -Part as clearly as Cervantes, after him, promised a Second Part of -the _Galatea_: "Las quales (fiestas) ... y otras cosas de gusto y de -provecho están tratadas en la otra parte deste libro, que antes de -muchos días, placiendo á Dios, será impresa." Gil Polo is believed -to have been absorbed by his official duties as Maestre Racional of -the Royal Court in the Kingdom of Valencia. His _Canto del Turia_, -inserted in the third book of the _Diana enamorada_, is one of the -models--perhaps the chief model--of the present _Canto de Calíope_. -Cervantes follows Gil Polo very closely. - -[212] The dramatist, Cristóbal de Virués, was born in 1550 and died -in 1610. Like Cervantes and Artieda, he fought at Lepanto. His _Obras -trágicas y líricas_ (Madrid, 1609) are more interesting than his -somewhat repulsive _Historia del Monserrate_ (Madrid, 1587-1588) which -Cervantes praises beyond measure: see note 2. - -[213] I have failed to find any example of Silvestre de Espinosa's work. - -[214] García Romeo (the name is sometimes given as García Romero) -appears to have escaped all the bibliographers. - -[215] _Romero_ in Spanish means _rosemary_. A. B. W. - -[216] The Jeromite monk, Pedro de Huete, contributed a sonnet to the -_Versos espirituales_ (Cuenca, 1597) of the Dominican friar, Pedro de -Encinas. - -[217] Pedro de Láinez joined with Cervantes in writing eulogistic -verses for Padilla's _Jardín espiritual_: see note 27. Examples of -his skill are given in Pedro Espinosa's _Flores de poetas ilustres de -España_ (1605). Fernández de Navarrete, in his biography of Cervantes, -states (p. 116) that Láinez died in 1605: he is warmly praised by Lope -de Vega in the _Laurel de Apolo_ (silva iv.). - -His widow, Juana Gaitán, lived at Valladolid in the same house as -Cervantes and his family: she is mentioned, not greatly to her credit, -in the depositions of some of the witnesses examined with reference to -the death of Gaspar de Ezpeleta; but too much importance may easily -be given to this tittle-tattle. Luisa de Montoya, a very respectable -widow, corroborated the evidence of other witnesses who assert that the -neighbours gossiped concerning the visits paid to Láinez's widow by the -Duque de Pastrana and the Conde de Concentaina--"que venian a tratar de -un libro que había compuesto un fulano Laynez, su primer marido." - -The contemptuous phrase--_un fulano Laynez_--would imply that Luisa -de Montoya was not a person of literary tastes: she was, however, -widow of the chronicler, Esteban de Garibay Zamalloa, author of the -_Ilustraciones genealogicas de los catholicos reyes de las Españas, -y de los christianissimos de Francia, y de los Emperadores de -Constantinopla, hasta el Catholico Rey nuestro Señor Don Philipe el -II y sus serenissimos hijos_ (Madrid, 1596). The words--_su primer -marido_--which are likewise used by another witness (Cervantes's niece, -Costanza de Ovando), might be taken, if construed literally, to mean -that Láinez's widow had married again shortly after her husband's -death: for the evidence was taken on June 29, 1605. But, apparently, -the inference would be wrong. When examined in jail, to which she was -committed with Cervantes and others, Juana Gaitán described herself -as over thirty-five years of age, and as the widow of the late Pedro -Láinez. She accounted for Pastrana's visits, which had given rise to -scandal, by saying that she intended to dedicate to him two books by -her late husband, and that Pastrana had merely called to thank her in -due form. A reference to Pastrana in the _Viaje del Parnaso_ (cap. -viii.) seems to suggest that Pastrana was a munificent patron:-- - - Desde allí, y no sé cómo, fuí traído - Adonde ví al gran Duque de Pastrana - Mil parabienes dar de bien venido; - Y que la fama en la verdad ufana - Contaba que agradó con su presencia, - Y con su cortesía sobrehumana: - - Que fué nuevo Alejandro en la excelencia - Del dar, que satisfizo á todo cuanto - Puede mostrar real magnificencia. - -It is a little unlucky that these works by Láinez, concerning the -publication of which the author's zealous widow consulted Pastrana, -should not after all have found their way into print. For details of -the evidence in the Ezpeleta case, see Dr. Pérez Pastor's _Documentos -Cervantinos hasta ahora inéditos_ (Madrid, 1902), vol. ii., pp. 455-527. - -[218] Francisco de Figueroa, _el Divino_, was born at Alcalá de -Henares in 1536 and is conjectured to have died as late as 1620. Very -little is known of this distinguished poet. He is said to have served -as a soldier in Italy where his verses won him so high a reputation -that he was compared to Petrarch. He married Doña María de Vargas on -February 14, 1575, at Alcalá de Henares, and travelled with the Duque -de Terranova through the Low Countries in 1597. After this date he -disappears. He is stated to have died at Lisbon, and to have directed -that all his poems should be burned. Such of them as were saved were -published at Lisbon in 1626 by Luis Tribaldos de Toledo. As noted in -the _Introduction_ (p. xxxi. _n._ 2) to the present version, Figueroa -is the Tirsi of the _Galatea_. There is a strong family likeness -between the poems of Figueroa and those of the Bachiller Francisco -de la Torre, whose verses were issued by Quevedo in 1631. So marked -is this resemblance that, as M. Ernest Mérimée has written:--"Un -critique, que le paradoxe n'effraierait point, pourrait, sans trop de -peine, soutenir l'identité de Francisco de la Torre et de Francisco -de Figueroa." See his admirable _Essai sur la vie et les œuvres de -Francisco de Quevedo_ (Paris, 1886), p. 324. - -[219] _Brasa_, f., means red-hot coal. The word for 'charcoal' is -_carbón_, m. - -[220] The Spanish for 'letter' is _carta_, f.; for a 'pack of cards' -_pliego de cartas_, m. - -[221] i.e. a riddle. The Spanish is _¿qué es cosa y cosa?_ a phrase -equivalent to our 'What may this pretty thing be?' - - - END OF GALATEA. - - * * * * * - - GLASGOW: PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS BY ROBERT MACLEHOSE AND CO. - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Galatea, by Miguel Cervantes Saavedra - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GALATEA *** - -***** This file should be named 63404-0.txt or 63404-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/4/0/63404/ - -Produced by Andrés V. 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margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; - margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} - -/* Illustration classes */ -.illowp43 {width: 43%;} @media handheld { .illowp43 {width: 100%;} } -.illowp44 {width: 44%;} @media handheld { .illowp44 {width: 100%;} } - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Galatea, by Miguel Cervantes Saavedra - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Galatea - -Author: Miguel Cervantes Saavedra - -Editor: Jas Fitzmaurice-Kellly - -Translator: H. Oelsner - A. B. Welford - -Release Date: October 8, 2020 [EBook #63404] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GALATEA *** - - - - -Produced by Andrés V. Galia and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter illowp43" id="cover" style="max-width: 43.75em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="bookcover" /> -</div> -<div class="chapter"> - <div class="tnote"> - - <p class="p2 center big1">TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES</p> - -<p>The book cover was modified by the Transcriber and added to the public -domain.</p> - -<p>The Table of Contents was added by the Transcriber.</p> - -<p>The spelling of Spanish names and places mentioned in the text has been -adjusted to the rules set by the Academia Real Española. The spelling -of quotations in ancient Spanish presented in the text haves been kept -as they were written in the oriignal work.</p> - -<p>A number of words in this book have both hyphenated and non-hyphenated -variants. For the words with both variants present the one more used -has been kept.</p> - -<p>Punctuation and other printing errors have been corrected.</p> - -</div> -</div> - - -<hr class="tb" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center half-title"> -THE COMPLETE WORKS<br /> -OF<br /> -MIGUEL DE CERVANTES<br /> -<small>IN TWELVE VOLUMES<br /> -VOL. II.</small></p> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p6 center" style="margin-bottom: 6em; "> -Agent for London.<br /> -R. BRIMLEY JOHNSON,<br /> -4 Adam Street,<br /> -Adelphi, W.C.</p> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="figcenter illowp44" id="titlepage" style="max-width: 18.5em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/title_page.jpg" alt="title-page" /> -</div> - - -</div> - -<h1>THE·COMPLETE·WORKS·OF·MIGUEL<br /> -DE·CERVANTES·SAAVEDRA·VOL·II<br /> -GALATEA</h1> - -<p class="center">EDITED·BY·JAS·FITZMAURICE-KELLY<br /> -TRANSLATED·BY·H·OELSNER·&·A·B·WELFORD<br /> -GOWANS·&·GRAY·GLASGOW·NOV·1<sup>ST</sup> 1903</p> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p4 center big2">PUBLISHERS' NOTE</p> -</div> - -<p class="center">in explanation of the different types employed.</p> - - -<p>In order to prevent a difficulty that sometimes arises of distinguishing between the -author and the editor, especially when author's and editor's notes to a text both -occur, the following plan has been adopted. The text of the author and its variants -have been printed throughout in 'old style' type, while all notes &c. added by the -editor have been set in 'condensed' type. It is hoped that this innovation will be -found of no small service to the general reader as well as to the student.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_vi"></a>[Pg vi]</span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p4 center big1">INDEX</p> -</div> - -<div class="table1-container"> -<div class="table1"> -<table class="tab1" border="0" summary="toc"> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> </td> -<td class="tdr">Pag.</td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">I<small>NTRODUCTION TO</small> G<small>ALATEA</small></td> -<td class="tdr"><small><a href="#Page_vii">VII</a></small></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">P<small>ROLOGUE</small></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">B<small>OOK</small> I</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">B<small>OOK</small> II</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">B<small>OOK</small> III</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">B<small>OOK</small> IV</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">B<small>OOK</small> V</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_191">191</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">B<small>OOK</small> VI</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_240">240</a></td> -</tr> - -</table> -</div> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_vii"></a>[Pg vii]</span></p> -</div> - -<h2>INTRODUCTION TO THE GALATEA.</h2> - - -<p>Simple as the bibliography of the <cite>Galatea</cite> really is, a habit of conjecture has -succeeded in complicating it. Though the earliest known edition of the book is -unanimously admitted to have appeared at Alcalá de Henares in 1585, it is often -alleged that the <em>princeps</em> was actually issued at Madrid during the previous -year. This is a mistaken idea arising, probably, out of a slip made by Gregorio -Mayáns y Siscar, the first Spaniard<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> who attempted to write a formal biography -of Cervantes. In his thirteenth paragraph Mayáns<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> remarked by the way that -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_viii"></a>[Pg viii]</span>the <cite>Galatea</cite> was published in 1584; but he laid no stress upon the date, and -dismissed the matter in a single sentence. The error (if it were really an error, -and not a mere misprint) was natural and pardonable enough in one who lived -before bibliography had developed into an exact study. Unfortunately, it was -reproduced by others. It is found, for instance, in a biographical essay on -Cervantes which precedes the first edition of <cite>Don Quixote</cite> issued by the Royal -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_ix"></a>[Pg ix]</span>Spanish Academy;<a id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> and the essayist, Vicente de los Ríos, adds the detail -that the <cite>Galatea</cite> came out at Madrid. It was unlucky that this statement -should be put forward where it is. The Academy's responsibility for the -texts issued in its name is chiefly financial: for the rest, it habitually appoints -the most competent representatives available, and it naturally gives each -delegate a free hand. But foreigners, unacquainted with the procedure, have -imagined that Ríos must be taken as expressing the deliberate and unanimous -opinion of the entire Academy. This is a complete misapprehension. On the -face of it, it is absurd to suppose that any corporation, as a whole, is irrevocably -committed to every view expressed by individual members. Even were it otherwise, -it would not affect the case. An error would be none the less an error -if a learned society sanctioned it. But, as a matter of fact, like all those -concerned in editing texts or in writing essays for the Academy, Ríos spoke -for himself alone. He was followed by Pellicer<a id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> who, though he gives 1584 as -the date of the <em>princeps</em>, is less categorical as to the place of publication. Some -twenty-two years after Pellicer's time, Fernández de Navarrete<a id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> accepted his -predecessors' view as regards the date, and to this acceptance, more than -to anything else, the common mistake is due. Relying on Navarrete's -unequalled authority, Ticknor<a id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> repeated the mis-statement which has since -passed into general circulation. Further enquiry has destroyed the theory that -the <cite>Galatea</cite> first appeared at Madrid in 1584. However, as most English -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_x"></a>[Pg x]</span>writers<a id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> on this question have given currency to the old, erroneous notion, it -becomes necessary to set forth the circumstances of the case. But, before -entering upon details, it should be observed (1) that no copy of the supposititious -1584 edition has ever been seen by any one; (2) that there is not even an -indirect proof of its existence; and (3) that, so far as the evidence goes, no -edition of the <cite>Galatea</cite> was published at Madrid before 1736: that is to say, -until more than a century after Cervantes's death.</p> - -<p>We do not know precisely when the <cite>Galatea</cite> was written. M. Dumaine,<a id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> -indeed, declares positively that the poems in the volume—he must surely mean -some of them, not all—were addressed to a lady during the author's stay in -Italy. If this were so, these verses would date (at latest) from September, 1575, -when Cervantes left Italy for the last time. Sr. D. José María Asensio y Toledo<a id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> -holds that the <cite>Galatea</cite> was begun in Portugal soon after the writer's return from -Algiers in 1580. Of these views one may conceivably be true; one must necessarily -be false; and it is more than possible that both are wrong. As no data -are forthcoming to support either opinion, we may profitably set aside these speculations -and proceed to examine the particulars disclosed in the preliminaries of the -<cite>Galatea</cite>. The <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Aprobación</i> was signed by Lucas Gracián<a id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> Dantisco at Madrid -on February 1, 1584, and, as some time must have passed between the sub<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xi"></a>[Pg xi]</span>mission -of the manuscript to the censor and the issue of his license, it seems -certain that the text of the <cite>Galatea</cite> was finished before the end of 1583. In its -present form, the dedication, as will be seen presently, cannot have been written -till about the end of the following summer. Meanwhile, on February 22, 1584, -the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Privilegio</i> was granted at Madrid in the King's name by Antonio de Erasso. -It was not till a year later—the very end of February 1585—that the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Fe de -erratas</i> was passed at Alcalá de Henares by the Licenciado Vares de Castro, -official corrector to the University of that city. The <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Tasa</i>, which bears the -name of Miguel Ondarza Zabala, was despatched at Madrid on March 13, 1585.</p> - -<p>To those who have had no occasion to study such matters as these, the space of -time which elapsed between the concession of the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Privilegio</i> and the despatch of -the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Tasa</i> might seem considerable; and it is not surprising that this circumstance -should be the basis of erroneous deductions on their part. Apparently for no -other reason than the length of this interval, it has been concluded that, between -February 22, 1584, and March 13, 1585, there was printed at Madrid an edition -of the <cite>Galatea</cite>, every copy of which has—<em>ex hypothesi</em>—vanished. This -assumption is gratuitous.</p> - -<p>It is true that the first editions of certain very popular Spanish books—such as the -<cite>Celestina</cite>,<a id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> <cite>Amadís de Gaula</cite>,<a id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> <cite>Lazarillo de Tormes</cite>,<a id="FNanchor_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> <cite>Guzmán de Alfarache</cite>,<a id="FNanchor_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xii"></a>[Pg xii]</span>and <cite>Don Quixote</cite><a id="FNanchor_15" href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a>—tend to become exceedingly rare and are, perhaps, -occasionally thumbed out of existence altogether. But the <cite>Galatea</cite>, like all -pastoral novels, appealed to a comparatively restricted class of readers, and was -in no danger of wide popularity. No doubt the <em>princeps</em> of the <cite>Galatea</cite> is -exceptionally rare,<a id="FNanchor_16" href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a>—rarer than the <em>princeps</em> of <cite>Don Quixote</cite>; but rarity, taken -by itself, is no proof that a work was popular, and, in the present instance, the -rarity may be due to the fact that the <cite>Galatea</cite> was issued in a more or less -limited edition. This is what we should expect in the case of a first book -published in a provincial town by an author who had still to make his reputation; -but, in the absence of direct testimony, the question cannot be decided. What can -be proved by any one at all acquainted with Spanish bibliography is that there was -no unexampled delay in publishing the <cite>Galatea</cite>. Similar instances abound; but, -for our present purpose, it will suffice to mention two which are—or should be—familiar -to all who are specially interested in Cervantes and in his writings. As -we have just seen, the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Tasa</i> of the <cite>Galatea</cite> is dated thirteen months after the -<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Aprobación</i>. An exact parallel to this is afforded by Cervantes's own <cite>Novelas -exemplares</cite>: Fray Juan Bautista signed the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Aprobación</i> on July 9, 1612, and -Hernando de Vallejo signed the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Tasa</i> on August 12, 1613.<a id="FNanchor_17" href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> Here the interval is -precisely thirteen months. A still more striking instance of dilatoriness is -revealed in the preliminaries to another work which has been consulted—or, at -least, quoted as though it were familiar to them—by almost all writers on Cervantes -from 1761 onwards: namely, Diego de Haedo's <cite>Topographia e Historia general -de Argel</cite>, published at Valladolid in 1612. Haedo obtained the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Aprobación</i> on -October 6, 1604, but the licence was not given till February 8, 1610. In this -instance, then, the legal formalities were spread out over five years and, at the -final stage, there was a further pause of three years; in all, a delay of eight years.<a id="FNanchor_18" href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xiii"></a>[Pg xiii]</span>There is no ground for assuming that the official procedure in these matters was -more expeditions in 1585 than it was a quarter of a century later and, consequently, -in the case of the <cite>Galatea</cite>, the interval of time between the issue of the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Aprobación</i> -and the despatch of the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Tasa</i> cannot be regarded as calling for any -far-fetched explanation.</p> - -<p>The author's Letter Dedicatory to Ascanio Colonna, Abbot of St. Sophia, is -undated, but it contains a passage which incidentally throws light on the bibliography -of the <cite>Galatea</cite>. Speaking of his military service under Ascanio Colonna's -father, Cervantes mentions his late chief—<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">aquel sol de la milicia que ayer nos -quitó el cielo delante de los ojos</i>—in terms which imply that Marco Antonio -Colonna's death was a comparatively recent event. Now, we know from the -official death-certificate<a id="FNanchor_19" href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> that the Viceroy of Sicily, when on his way to visit -Philip II., died at Medinaceli on August 1, 1584—exactly six months after the -<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Aprobación</i> for the <cite>Galatea</cite> had been obtained. Allowing for the rate at which -news travelled in the sixteenth century, it seems improbable that Cervantes can -have written his dedication much before the end of August 1584. It is conceivable, -no doubt, that he wrote two different dedications—one for the alleged -Madrid edition of 1584, and another for the Alcalá edition of 1585. It is equally -conceivable that though the Alcalá edition of the <cite>Galatea</cite>, in common with every -subsequent work by Cervantes, has a dedication, the supposititious Madrid edition -was (for some reason unknown) published without one. Manifestly, one of these -alternatives must be adopted by believers in the imaginary <em>princeps</em>. But, -curiously enough, the point does not appear to have occurred to them; for, up to the -present time, no such hypothesis has been advanced. Assuming, as we may fairly -assume, that only one dedication was written, the complete manuscript of the -<cite>Galatea</cite> cannot well have reached the compositors till September or October 1584. -It is possible that some part of the text was set up before this date, but of this we -have no proof. If the 375 leaves—750 pages—of which the book consists were -struck off late in January or early in February 1585, so as to allow of the text -being revised by the official corrector at Alcalá de Henares, and thence forwarded -to Madrid by the beginning of March, it must be admitted that the achievement -did credit to the country printer, Juan de Gracián, whose name figures on the -title-page. Further, as Salvá<a id="FNanchor_20" href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> shrewdly remarks, the appearance of the Colonna -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xiv"></a>[Pg xiv]</span>escutcheon on this same title-page affords a presumption that the Alcalá edition of -1585 is the <em>princeps</em>: for it is unreasonable to suppose that a struggling provincial -publisher of the sixteenth century would go to the expense of furnishing a -simple reprint with a complimentary woodcut.</p> - -<p>Each of the foregoing circumstances, considered separately, tells against the -current idea that the <cite>Galatea</cite> was published at Madrid in 1584, and it might -have been hoped that an intelligent consideration of their cumulative effect -would ensure the right conclusion: that the story is a myth. But, so Donoso -Cortés<a id="FNanchor_21" href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> maintained, man has an almost invincible propensity to error, and the -discussion on so plain a matter as the bibliography of the <cite>Galatea</cite> lends colour to -this view. The amount of confusion introduced into the debate is extraordinary. -It is occasionally difficult to gather what a partisan of the alleged 1584 edition -holds; his pages blaze with contradictions: his theory is half-heartedly advanced, -hastily abandoned, and confidently re-stated in a bewildering fashion.<a id="FNanchor_22" href="#Footnote_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> Again, -what was originally put forward as a pious opinion is transfigured into a dogma. -Just as there are some who, when writing on the bibliography of <cite>Don Quixote</cite>, -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xv"></a>[Pg xv]</span>insist that the 1608 edition of that book "must have been revised by the author,"<a id="FNanchor_23" href="#Footnote_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> -so there are some who, when writing on the bibliography of the <cite>Galatea</cite>, insist -with equal positiveness that there "must have been an edition of 1584."<a id="FNanchor_24" href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> This -emphasis is out of place in both cases; but it is interesting and instructive to note -that these two opinions are practically inseparable from each other. The coincidence -can scarcely be accidental, and it may prove advantageous: for, obviously, -the refutation of the one thesis must tend to discredit the other. If a writer -be convicted of error in a very simple matter which can be tested in a moment, -it would clearly be imprudent to accept his unsupported statement concerning a far -more complex matter to which no direct test can be applied. And, as it happens, -we are now enabled to measure the accuracy of the assertion that the <em>princeps</em> of -the <cite>Galatea</cite> was published at Madrid in 1584.</p> - -<p>Those who take it upon themselves to lay down that there "must have been" -an edition of that place and date are bound to establish the fact. They are not -entitled to defy every rule of evidence, and to call on the other side to prove a -negative. The burden of proof lies wholly with them. But, by a rare and happy -accident, it is possible to prove a negative in the present case. In view of recent -researches, the theory that the <em>princeps</em> of the <cite>Galatea</cite> was issued at Madrid in -1584 is absolutely untenable. All doubts or hesitations on this head are ended -by the opportune discovery, due to that excellent scholar and fortunate investigator, -Dr. Pérez Pastor, of the original contract between Cervantes and the -Alcalá publisher, Blas de Robles. By this contract Blas de Robles binds himself -to pay 1336 <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">reales</i> (£29. 13s. 9d. English) for the author's entire rights.<a id="FNanchor_25" href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> This -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xvi"></a>[Pg xvi]</span>legal instrument is decisive, for it would be ridiculous—not to say impertinent—to -suppose that Cervantes sold his interest twice over to two different publishers -in two different cities. There can, therefore, be no further controversy as to -when and where the <cite>Galatea</cite> appeared. It is now placed beyond dispute that -Cervantes had not found a publisher before June 1584, and that the book was -issued at Alcalá de Henares in 1585—probably not before the month of April. -The first intention was to entitle the volume <cite>Los seys libros de Galatea</cite> but -(perhaps with a view to emphasizing the promise of a sequel) it was actually -published as the <cite>Primera Parte de la Galatea, dividida en seys libros</cite>.<a id="FNanchor_26" href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> On -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xvii"></a>[Pg xvii]</span>June 14, 1584, Cervantes received 1116 <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">reales</i> in advance, and, by a deed of the -same date, Blas de Robles undertook to pay the balance of 250 <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">reales</i> at the end -of September:<a id="FNanchor_27" href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> the very period when, as already conjectured, the printing was -begun.<a id="FNanchor_28" href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xviii"></a>[Pg xviii]</span></p> - -<p>Cervantes was in his thirty-third year when he was ransomed at Algiers on -September 19, 1580, and, when he reached Portugal in 1581, he may have -intended to enlist once more. It has, in fact, been generally thought that he -shared in at least one of the expeditions against the Azores under the famous -Marqués de Santa Cruz in 1581-83. This belief is based on the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Información</i> -presented by Cervantes at Madrid on June 6, 1590;<a id="FNanchor_29" href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> but in this petition to the -King the claims of Rodrigo de Cervantes and Miguel de Cervantes are set forth -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xix"></a>[Pg xix]</span> -in so confusing a fashion that it is difficult to distinguish the services of the -elder brother from those of the junior. It is certain that Rodrigo served at the -Azores in 1583, and we learn from Mosquera de Figueroa that he was promoted -from the ranks for his distinguished gallantry in the action before Porto das Moas.<a id="FNanchor_30" href="#Footnote_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> -But it is by no means clear that Miguel de Cervantes took any part in either -campaign. Such evidence as we have tells rather against the current supposition. -It is ascertained that Cervantes was at Tomar on May 21, 1581, and that he was -at Cartagena towards the end of June 1581, while we have documentary evidence -to prove that he pawned five pieces of yellow and red taffeta to Napoléon Lomelin -at Madrid in the autumn of 1583.<a id="FNanchor_31" href="#Footnote_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> If these dates are correct (as they seem to -be), it is scarcely possible that Cervantes can have sailed with Santa Cruz -for the Azores.<a id="FNanchor_32" href="#Footnote_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> The likelihood is that he had to be content with some -civil employment and, if so, it was natural enough that he should turn to -literature with a view to increasing his small income. A modest, clear-sighted -man, he probably did not imagine that he was about to write masterpieces, or -to make a fortune by his pen. He perhaps hoped to keep the wolf from the -door, or, at the most, to find a rich patron, as his friend Gálvez de Montalvo had -done.<a id="FNanchor_33" href="#Footnote_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> If these were his ideas, and if, as seems likely, he thought of marrying at -about this time, it is not surprising that he should write what he believed would -sell. So far as we can judge, he would much rather have wielded a sword than a -goose-quill, and he was far too great a humorist to vapour about "art" or an -"irresistible vocation." His juvenile verses had found favour with Juan López de -Hoyos, and perhaps Rufino de Chamberí had appreciated the two sonnets written -in Algiers; but the spirited tercets to Mateo Vázquez had failed of their effect, and -Cervantes was shrewd enough to know that versifying was not lucrative. Eighty -years before it was uttered, he realized the truth of the divine Gombauld's dying exclamation: -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">On paie si mal des vers immortels!</i> Fortunately, he had many strings -to his bow. Like Lope de Vega, he was prepared to attempt anything and everything: -prose or verse, the drama, picaresque tales, novels of adventure, and the -rest. But, to begin with, he divided his efforts between the theatre and fiction.</p> - -<p>In the latter province the path of a beginner was clearly marked out. Too -obscure, as yet, to venture upon a line of his own, and anxious, if possible, to -conciliate the general body of readers, Cervantes was practically compelled to -choose between the chivalresque romance and the pastoral. Not knowing that he -was born to kill the former kind, he decided in favour of the latter—and for -obvious reasons. The Knight-errantries of Amadís and his comrades had been -in vogue from the fourteenth—perhaps even from the thirteenth<a id="FNanchor_34" href="#Footnote_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a>—century -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xx"></a>[Pg xx]</span>onwards. <cite>Amadís de Gaula</cite> was printed at least as early as 1508,<a id="FNanchor_35" href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> and had -begotten a numerous tribe; but, when Cervantes was feeling his way in the ninth -decade of the sixteenth century, popular enthusiasm for these tales of chivalry -was cooling. The pastoral novel was the latest literary fashion. It would, -possibly, be too much to say that the Spanish pastoral novel was a mere offshoot of -the chivalresque romances; yet it is undeniable that the pastoral element is found -in chivalresque stories of comparatively early date. For example, in the -ninth book of <cite>Amadís</cite>, entitled <cite>Amadís de Grecia</cite> (1530) the shepherd Darinel -and the shepherdess Sylvia are among the characters; in the first two parts of <cite>Don -Florisel de Niquea</cite> (1532) the hero masquerades as a shepherd and pays his -court to the shepherdess Sylvia; in the fourth part of <cite>Don Florisel de Niquea</cite> -(1551) the eclogues of Archileo and Laris are early instances of what was destined -to become a tedious convention.<a id="FNanchor_36" href="#Footnote_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> These, however, are simple foreshadowings of -an independent school of fiction which was in full vigour while Cervantes was -still a boy.</p> - -<p>The Spanish chivalresque novel is thought by many sound judges to derive -directly from Portugal,<a id="FNanchor_37" href="#Footnote_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> which may, in its turn, have received the material of its -knightly tales—and perhaps something more than the raw material—from Celtic -France.<a id="FNanchor_38" href="#Footnote_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> The conclusion is disputed,<a id="FNanchor_39" href="#Footnote_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> but whatever opinion may prevail as -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxi"></a>[Pg xxi]</span>regards the source of the books of chivalry, it seems fairly certain that the -pastoral novel was introduced into Spain by a Portuguese writer whose inspiration -came to him from Italy. In a general sense, Virgil is the father of the -pastoral in all Latin lands: the more immediate source of the Italian pastoral is -believed to be Boccaccio's <cite>Ameto</cite>, the model of Tasso and Guarini as also of Bembo -and Sannasaro. Jacopo Sannazaro,<a id="FNanchor_40" href="#Footnote_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> a Neapolitan courtier of Spanish descent, is -the connecting link between the literatures of Italy and the Peninsula during the -first part of the sixteenth century. His vogue in the latter was enhanced through -the instrumentality of the renowned poet Garcilaso de la Vega,<a id="FNanchor_41" href="#Footnote_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a> the "starry -paladin" of Spain. No small part of Garcilaso's work is a poetic recasting of -Sannazaro's themes,<a id="FNanchor_42" href="#Footnote_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> and we can scarcely doubt that Sannazaro's <cite>Arcadia</cite> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxii"></a>[Pg xxii]</span>suggested the first genuine Spanish pastoral to the Portuguese, Jorge de -Montemôr, so called from his birthplace. The point has been contested, for -Montemôr's <cite>Siete libros de la Diana</cite> are often said to have been published in -1542,<a id="FNanchor_43" href="#Footnote_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> and the first Spanish translation of Sannazaro's <cite>Arcadia</cite> (by Diego López -de Ayala) does not appear to have been issued till 1547.<a id="FNanchor_44" href="#Footnote_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> It may, however, be -taken as established that Montemôr's <cite>Diana</cite> was not really printed much -earlier than 1558-9,<a id="FNanchor_45" href="#Footnote_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> when it at once became the fashion.<a id="FNanchor_46" href="#Footnote_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> The argument -sets forth that in the city of León, by the banks of the Ezla, dwelt the beautiful -shepherdess Diana, beloved of the shepherds Sireno and Silvano; the shepherdess -favours Sireno, who is suddenly called away to foreign countries, whence he -returns a year later to find a change of times and hearts, Diana being wedded to -the shepherd Delio: "and here beginneth the first book, and in the remainder you -shall find very diverse histories of events which in sooth befell, howbeit travestied -under a pastoral style." Montemôr's diverse histories, which owe something to -Bernardim Ribeiro's <cite>Saudades</cite> or <cite>Hystoria de Menina e moça</cite><a id="FNanchor_47" href="#Footnote_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> (a novel that -begins as a chivalresque romance and ends as a pastoral tale), took Western -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxiii"></a>[Pg xxiii]</span>Europe by storm. They may have been in Spenser's mind when he wrote <cite>The -Shepherd's Calendar</cite>: they were unquestionably utilized by Sir Philip Sidney -in <cite>The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia</cite>, and it has been alleged with more -or less plausibility that—possibly through Bartholomew Yong's version of -Montemôr, which was finished in 1583, though not published till fifteen years -later—the episode of Felismena has been transferred from the <cite>Diana</cite> to -the <cite>Two Gentlemen of Verona</cite>.</p> - -<p>The <cite>Diana</cite> ends with the promise of a Second Part in which the shepherd Danteo -and the shepherdess Duarda shall figure, but this Second Part was not forthcoming -as Montemôr was killed in Piedmont on February 26, 1561.<a id="FNanchor_48" href="#Footnote_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> His design was -very badly executed in 1564 by his friend Alonso Pérez, a Salamancan physician, -who had the assurance to boast that there was scarcely a scrap of original prose -or verse in his volume, the whole (as he vaunts) being stolen and imitated from -Latins and Italians. "Nor," adds this astonishing doctor, "do I deem that I am -in any sort to blame therefor, since they did as much by the Greeks."<a id="FNanchor_49" href="#Footnote_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> Another, -and a far better, continuation of Montemôr's <cite>Diana</cite> was issued at Valencia in -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxiv"></a>[Pg xxiv]</span>this same year of 1664 by Gaspar Gil Polo—a sequel which, after proving almost -as successful as Montemôr's original, was destined to be plagiarized in the most -shameless fashion by Hierónimo de Texeda.<a id="FNanchor_50" href="#Footnote_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a></p> - -<p>That Cervantes was well acquainted with these early Spanish pastorals is proved -by the discussion on the little books—contrasting with the hundred and more -stately folios of the chivalresque romances—in Don Quixote's library. The niece -of the Ingenious Gentleman thought that these slimmer volumes should "be -burned as well as the others; for it would be no wonder if, after being cured -of his chivalry disorder, my uncle, by reading these, took a fancy to turn shepherd -and range the woods and fields singing and piping." The Priest agrees in principle, -but in practice he is more mercifully disposed:—"To begin, then, with the <cite>Diana</cite> -of Montemayor. I am of opinion it should not be burned, but that it should be -cleared of all that about the sage Felicia and the magic water,<a id="FNanchor_51" href="#Footnote_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> and of almost all -the longer pieces of verse: let it keep, and welcome, its prose and the honour of -being the first of books of the kind." And when questioned concerning the above-named -sequels, the judicious Priest declares:—"As for that of the Salamancan, let it -go to swell the number of the condemned in the yard, and let Gil Polo's be preserved -as if it came from Apollo himself." With this jest on Gil Polo's name, -the Priest passes over the next in order of the pastoral novels, Jerónimo de -Arbolanche's <cite>Las Habidas</cite> (1566)<a id="FNanchor_52" href="#Footnote_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a>—a very rare work which, though not on -Don Quixote's shelves, was more or less vaguely known to Cervantes<a id="FNanchor_53" href="#Footnote_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a>—to pro<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxv"></a>[Pg xxv]</span>nounce -judgment on <cite>Los diez Libros de Fortuna d'Amor</cite>, an amazingly foolish -book published in 1573 by a Sardinian soldier named Antonio de lo Frasso. Cervantes -was just the man to praise (if possible) the work of an old comrade-in-arms, -and, in fact, he contrived (through the Priest) to express his opinion of lo -Frasso's book in terms which proved misleading:—"By the orders I have received, -since Apollo has been Apollo, and the Muses have been Muses, and poets have been -poets, so droll and absurd a book as this has never been written, and in its way it -is the best and the most singular of all of this species that have as yet appeared, -and he who has not read it may be sure he has never read what is delightful. Give -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxvi"></a>[Pg xxvi]</span>it here, gossip, for I make more account of having found it than if they had given -me a cassock of Florence stuff." It might seem difficult to interpret this as praise, -and impossible to misunderstand the Priest's delight at meeting with what had -already become a bibliographical rarity; but, some hundred and thirty years later, -the last words of the passage were taken seriously and led to a reprint of lo -Frasso's book by Pedro de Pineda, one of the correctors of Tonson's <cite>Don Quixote</cite>, -who had manifestly overlooked the ridicule of the Sardinian in the <cite>Viaje del -Parnaso</cite>.<a id="FNanchor_54" href="#Footnote_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a></p> - -<p>These pastorals, together with the chivalresque romances, had probably been -the entertainment of Cervantes's youth. It was probably another and much -later essay of the same kind which induced him to try his luck in the pastoral -vein: the <cite>Pastor de Fílida</cite>, published at Madrid in 1582 by his friend Luis -Gálvez de Montalvo, who is said (on doubtful authority, as we shall see presently) -to have introduced Cervantes in his text as the shepherd Tirsi—<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">de -clarísimo ingenio</i>. Whether this be so, or not, Cervantes, in his usual kindly, -indulgent way, places his friend's work on Don Quixote's shelves, and treats it -with gracious deference:—"No Pastor that, but a highly polished courtier; -let it be preserved as a precious jewel." The book has but trifling interest -for us nowadays; yet we may be sure that Cervantes's admiration was whole-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxvii"></a>[Pg xxvii]</span>hearted, -and the fact that the volume passed through several editions<a id="FNanchor_55" href="#Footnote_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a> vindicates -him from any suspicion of excessive partiality. It was his fine habit to praise -generously. Neither his temperament nor his training was critical, and he -attached even more than its due importance to the verdict of the public. He -frankly rejoiced in Gálvez de Montalvo's success, and it is not unreasonable -to conjecture that this success helped to hasten the appearance of the <cite>Galatea</cite>.</p> - -<p>It may seem strange that Cervantes, whose transcriptions from life are -eminently distinguished for truth and force, should have been induced to -experiment in the province of artificial, languid pastoralism. But if, as Taine -would have it, climate makes the race, the race makes the individual, and at -this period the races of Western Europe had gone (so to say) pastorally mad.<a id="FNanchor_56" href="#Footnote_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a> -The pastoral novel is not to our modern taste; but, as there is no more stability -in literature than in politics, its day may come again.<a id="FNanchor_57" href="#Footnote_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a> In Cervantes's time there -was no escaping from the prose idyll. Prodigious tales from the Indies had stimulated -the popular appetite for wonders, and the demand was supplied to satiety in -the later chivalresque romances. Feliciano de Silva and his fellows could think of -nothing better than the systematic exaggeration of the most marvellous episodes -in <cite>Amadís de Gaula</cite>. The adventures became more perilous, the knights more -fantastically brave, the ladies (if possible) lovelier, the wizards craftier, the -giants huger, the monsters more terrific, and so forth. In this vein nothing -more was to be done: the formula was exhausted. The rival and more cultured -school, founded by Sannazaro, endeavoured to lead men's minds from these -noisy banalities to the placid contemplation of nature, or rather of idealized -antiquity, by substituting for the din of arms, the stir of cities, and the -furrowing of strange oceans by the prows of vulgar traders, the still, primeval</p> - -<p>"Summers of the snakeless meadow, unlaborious earth, and oarless sea."</p> - -<p>Unluckily no departure from Sannazaro's original pattern was thought legitimate. -Sir Philip Sidney rejects every attempt at innovation with the crushing -remark that "neyther Theocritus in Greek, Virgill in Latine, nor Sanazar in -Italian did affect it."<a id="FNanchor_58" href="#Footnote_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a> Hence the unbroken monotony of the pastoral convention. -Nothing is easier than to mock at this new Arcadia where beauteous shepherdesses -vanish discreetly behind glades and brakes, where golden-mouthed shepherds exchange -confidences of unrequited passion, arguing the high metaphysical doctrine -of Platonic love, or chanting most melancholy madrigals at intervals which the -seasoned reader can calculate to a nicety beforehand. There never was, and never -could be, such an atmosphere of deliberate dilettantism in such a world as ours. -Taken as a whole these late Renascence pastorals weary us, as Sidney's <cite>Arcadia</cite> -wearied Hazlitt, with their everlasting "alliteration, antithesis and metaphysical -conceit," their "continual, uncalled-for interruptions, analysing, dissecting, disjointing, -murdering everything, and reading a pragmatical, self-sufficient lecture -over the dead body of nature." Briefly, while these pastoral writers of the -sixteenth century persuaded themselves and their readers that they were -returning to communion with hills and forests, to us it seems as though they -offered little beyond unassimilated reminiscences of conventional classicism.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxviii"></a></span></p> -<p>It would be idle to deny that the <cite>Galatea</cite> has many defects of the school to -which it belongs, but it must always have a singular interest as being the first -serious literary experiment made by a writer of consummate genius. Cervantes -had the model, the sacred model, perpetually before his eyes, and he copied it (if -not with conviction) with a grim determination which speaks for itself. He, too,—the -<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">ingenio lego</i>—must be interpolating his learning, and referring to Virgil, Ovid, -Propertius and the rest of them, with an air of intimate familiarity. Twenty -years afterwards, when he had outgrown these little affectations, and was -penning the amusing passage in which he banters Lope's childish pedantry,<a id="FNanchor_59" href="#Footnote_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a> the -brilliant humorist must surely have smiled as he remembered his own performances -in the same kind. He does honour to the grand tradition of prolixity -by putting wiredrawn conceits into the mouths of shepherds who are much more -like love-sick Abelards than like Comatas or Lacon, and, when his own stock of -scholastic subtleties is ended, he has no scruple in allotting to Lenio and Tirsi<a id="FNanchor_60" href="#Footnote_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a> a -short summary of the arguments which had been used long before by Filone and -Sofía in his favourite book, León Hebreo's <cite>Dialoghi di Amore</cite>.<a id="FNanchor_61" href="#Footnote_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a> Had he taken far -more material than he actually took, he would have been well within his rights, -according to the prevailing ideas of literary morality. Whatever illiterate -admirers may say, it is certain that Cervantes followed the fashion in -borrowing freely from his predecessors. No careful reader of the <cite>Galatea</cite> can -doubt that its author either had Sannazaro's <cite>Arcadia</cite> on his table, or that he -knew it almost by heart.<a id="FNanchor_62" href="#Footnote_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a> His appreciation for the <cite>Arcadia</cite> was unbounded, -and in the <cite>Viaje del Parnaso</cite><a id="FNanchor_63" href="#Footnote_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> the sight of Posilipo causes him to link -together the names of Virgil and Sannazaro:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxix"></a>[Pg xxix]</span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft4">Vímonos en un punto en el paraje,</div> -<div class="verse">Do la nutriz de Eneas piadoso</div> -<div class="verse">Hizo el forzoso y último pasaje.</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Vimos desde allí á poco el más famoso</div> -<div class="verse">Monte que encierra en sí nuestro hemisfero,</div> -<div class="verse">Más gallardo á la vista y más hermoso.</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Las cenizas de Títiro y Sincero</div> -<div class="verse">Están en él, y puede ser por esto</div> -<div class="verse">Nombrado entre los montes por primero.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">In the <cite>Galatea</cite>, enthusiasm takes the form of conscientious imitation. It cannot -be mere coincidence that Ergasto's song— <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Alma beata et bella</i>—is echoed by -Elicio as <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">O alma venturosa</i>; that such a <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">ritornello</i> as <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">Ricominciate, o Muse, -il vostro pianto</i> reappears as <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Pastores, entonad el triste canto</i>; that <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">Ponete -fin, o Muse, al vostro pianto</i> is rendered as <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Pastores, cesad ya del triste -canto</i>. The sixth book of the <cite>Galatea</cite> is an undisguised adaptation of Sannazaro's -work. In view of these resemblances, and many others indicated by -Professor Scherillo,<a id="FNanchor_64" href="#Footnote_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> the large indebtedness of Cervantes to Sannazaro cannot be -denied.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxx"></a>[Pg xxx]</span></p> - -<p>Nor are León Hebreo and Sannazaro Cervantes's sole creditors. The <cite>Canto de -Calíope</cite>, which commemorates the merits of a hundred poets and poetasters, was -probably suggested by the <cite>Canto de Turia</cite> in the third book of Gil Polo's -<cite>Diana enamorada</cite>, or by the list of rhymers in Boscán's <cite>Octava Rima</cite>, or even -by a similar catalogue interpolated in the thirty-eighth canto of Luis Zapata's unreadable -epic, <cite>Carlos famoso</cite>.<a id="FNanchor_65" href="#Footnote_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a> It may be pleaded for Cervantes that he -admired Boscán, Gil Polo, and Zapata, and that his imitation of them is natural -enough. <cite>Sea muy enhorabuena.</cite> The same explanation cannot apply to the -uncanny resemblance, which Professor Rennert<a id="FNanchor_66" href="#Footnote_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a> has pointed out, between the -address to Nisida in the third book of the <cite>Galatea</cite> and the letter to Cardenia in the -second book of Alonso Pérez' worthless sequel to Montemôr's <cite>Diana</cite>. Had Cervantes -remembered this small loan when writing the sixth chapter of <cite>Don -Quixote</cite>, gratitude would probably have led him to pass a more lenient sentence -on the impudent Salamancan doctor.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxxi"></a>[Pg xxxi]</span></p> - -<p>It was in strict accordance with the pastoral tradition that the author should -introduce himself and his friends into his story. In Virgil's Fifth Eclogue, -Daphnis was said to stand for Julius Cæsar, Mopsus for Æmilius Macer of -Verona, Menalcas for the poet himself. Sannazaro had, it was believed, revived -the fashion in Italy.<a id="FNanchor_67" href="#Footnote_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a> Ribeiro presented himself to the public as Bimnardel, -Montemôr asked for sympathy under the name of Sireno, and Sir Philip -Sidney masqueraded as Pyrocles. In the <cite>Pastor de Fílida</cite>, it is understood -that Mendino is Don Enrique de Mendoza y Aragón, that Pradileo is the Conde de -Prades (Luis Ramón y Folch), that Silvano is the poet Gregorio Silvestre, that -Tirsi is Francisco de Figueroa (or, as some rashly say,<a id="FNanchor_68" href="#Footnote_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a> Cervantes), and that -Montalvo himself appears as Siralvo. The new recruit observed the precedents -and, if we are to accept the authority of Navarrete,<a id="FNanchor_69" href="#Footnote_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a> the Tirsi, Damon, Meliso, -Siralvo, Lauso, Larsileo, and Artidoro of the <cite>Galatea</cite> are pseudonyms for Francisco -de Figueroa, Pedro Láinez, Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, Luis Gálvez de -Montalvo, Luis Barahona de Soto, Alonso de Ercilla, and Andrés Rey de Artieda -respectively.<a id="FNanchor_70" href="#Footnote_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> Lastly, commentators and biographers are mostly agreed that the -characters of Elicio and Galatea stand for Cervantes and for Doña Catalina de -Palacios Salazar y Vozmediano<a id="FNanchor_71" href="#Footnote_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a> whom he married some ten months after the -official <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Aprobación</i> to his novel was signed. We know on Cervantes's own -statement that many of his shepherds were shepherds in appearance only,<a id="FNanchor_72" href="#Footnote_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a> and -Lope de Vega confirms the tradition;<a id="FNanchor_73" href="#Footnote_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a> but we shall do well to remember that, in -attempting to identify the characters of a romance with personages in real life, -conjecture plays a considerable part.<a id="FNanchor_74" href="#Footnote_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a> Some of the above identifications might -easily be disputed, and, at the best, we can scarcely doubt that most of the -likenesses given by Cervantes in the <cite>Galatea</cite> are composite portraits.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxxii"></a>[Pg xxxii]</span></p> - -<p>In any case, it is difficult to take a deep interest in Cervantes's seventy-one<a id="FNanchor_75" href="#Footnote_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a> shepherds -and shepherdesses. Their sensibility is too exquisite for this world. Among -the swains, Lisandro, Silenio, Mireno, Grisaldo, Erastro, Damon, Telesio, Lauso, and -Lenio weep most copiously. Among the nymphs, Galatea, Lidia, Rosaura, Teolinda, -Maurisa, Nisida and Blanca choke with tears. Teolinda, Leonarda and -Rosaura swoon; Silerio, Timbrio, Darinto, Elicio and Lenio drop down in a dead -faint. In mind and body these shepherds and shepherdesses are exceptionally -endowed. They can remain awake for days. They can recite, without slurring a -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxxiii"></a>[Pg xxxiii]</span> -comma, a hundred or two hundred lines of a poem heard once, years ago; and the -casuistry of their amorous dialectics would do credit to Sánchez or Escobar. All -this is common form. A generation later, Honoré d'Urfé replied to the few who -might accuse Astrée of talking above her station:—"Reponds-leur, ma Bergere, -que pour peu qu'ils ayent connoissance de toy, ils sçauront que tu n'es pas, -ny celles aussi qui te suiuent, de ces Bergeres necessiteuses qui pour gagner leur vie -conduisent les troupeaux aux pasturages: mais que vous n'auez toutes pris cette -condition que pour viure plus doucement & sans contrainte. Que si vos conceptions -& vos paroles estoient veritablement telles que celles des Bergers ordinaires, -ils auroient aussi peu de plaisir de vous escouter que vous auriez beaucoup de -honte à les redire."<a id="FNanchor_76" href="#Footnote_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a> The plea was held to be good. The pastoral convention of -the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries thrust out all realism as an unclean -thing. The pity is that Cervantes, in his effort to conform to the rule, was -compelled to stifle what was best and rarest in his genius. Yet, amid these -philosophizings and artificialities, a few gleams of his peculiar, parenthetical -humour flash from him unawares: as when the refined Teolinda seeks to console -Lidia—<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">limpiándole los ojos con la manga de mi camisa</i>:<a id="FNanchor_77" href="#Footnote_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a> or in the description -of Crisalvo's fury—<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">que le sacaba de juicio, aunque él tenía tan poco, que -poco era menester para acabárselo</i>: or in Arsindo's thoughtful remark that the -shepherds might possibly be missed by the flocks from which they had been absent -for the last ten days. Again, there is a foreshadowing of a famous passage in <cite>Don -Quixote</cite> when the writer compares the shepherd's life with the courtier's. Once -more, the story of Timbrio's adventures—which are anything but idyllic—is -given with uncommon spirit. There are ingenuity and fancy in many of the -poems, and there is interest as well as grace in the little autobiographical touches—the -mention of Arnaute Mamí, the local patriotism that surges up in allusions to -the river Henares on which stands the author's native town—<cite>el gran Compluto</cite>, -as he says in his eloquent way.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxxiv"></a>[Pg xxxiv]</span></p> -<p>Cervantes is admittedly a wonderful creator; but the pastoral of his -time—a pastiche or mosaic of conventional figures—gave him no opportunity -of displaying his powers as an inventor. He is also a very great prose-writer, -ranging with an easy mastery from the loftiest rhetoric to the quick -thrust-and-parry of humoristic colloquy. Still, as has often been remarked, his -attention is apt to wander, and vigilant grammarians have detected (and -chronicled) slips in his most brilliant chapters. In the matter of correctness, -the <cite>Galatea</cite> compares favourably with <cite>Don Quixote</cite>, and its style has been -warmly eulogized by the majority of critics. And, on the whole, the praise is -deserved. The <cite>Galatea</cite> is (one fancies) the result of much deliberation—the preliminary -essay of a writer no longer young indeed, but abounding in hope, in -courage, and in knowledge of the best literary models which his country -had produced. The First Part of <cite>Don Quixote</cite> was dashed off at -odds and ends of time by a man acquainted with rebuffs, poverty, -disastrous failure of every kind. Purists may point to five grammatical flaws in -<cite>Don Quixote</cite> for one in the <cite>Galatea</cite>, and naturally the latter gains by this -comparison. But, whatever the technical weaknesses of <cite>Don Quixote</cite>, that book -has the supreme merit of allowing Cervantes to be himself. In the <cite>Galatea</cite> he -is, so far as his means allow, Virgil, Longus, Boccaccio, Petrarch, León Hebreo, -Sannazaro, Montemôr—even the unhappy Pérez—every one, in fact, but himself. -Hence, in the very nature of things, the smoothly filed periods of this first romance -cease to be characteristic of the writer, and have even led some to charge him -with being a corrupter of the language, a <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">culto</i> before <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">culteranismo</i> was invented.<a id="FNanchor_78" href="#Footnote_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a></p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxxv"></a>[Pg xxxv]</span></p> -<p>The charm of Cervantes's style, at its best, lies in its spontaneity, strength, -variety, swiftness, and noble simplicity: it is the unrestrained expression of his most -original and seductive personality. In the <cite>Galatea</cite>, on the other hand, Cervantes -is too often an echo, a timid copyist, reproducing the accepted <em>clichés</em> with -an exasperating scrupulousness. Galatea is <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">discreta</i>, Silvia is <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">discreta</i>, Teolinda -is <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">discreta</i>: Lisandro is <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">discreto</i>, Artidoro is <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">discreto</i>, Damon is <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">discreto</i>. The -noun and its regulation epithet are never sundered from each other. And <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">verde</i>—the -eternal adjective <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">verde</i>—haunts the distracted reader like an obsession: -the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">verdes árboles</i>, the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">verde suelo</i>, the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">verde yerba</i>, the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">verde prado</i>, the -<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">verde carga</i>, the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">verde llano</i>, the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">verde parra</i>, the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">verde laurel</i>, the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">verdes -ramos</i>,—and even <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">verdes ojos</i>.<a id="FNanchor_79" href="#Footnote_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a> A hillock is <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">espeso</i>: a wood is <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">espeso</i>. One -may choose between <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">verdadero y honesto amor</i> and <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">perfeto y verdadero amor</i>. -Beauty is <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">extremada</i>: grace or wit is <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">extremada</i>: a good voice is <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">extremada</i>. -And <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">infinito</i> sparkles on almost every second page. It is all, of course, -extremely correct and in accord with a hundred thousand precedents. But, -since the charm palls after incessant repetition, it would not be surprising if some -should think that such undeviating fidelity to a model is not an unmixed good, -that tame academic virtues may be bought too dear, and that a single chapter -of that sadly incorrect book, <cite>Don Quixote</cite>, is worth a whole wilderness of impeccable -pastorals.</p> - -<p>Still we cannot feel so sure as we should wish to be that Cervantes was of this -mind. He longed to be an Arcadian, though he had no true vocation for the business. -And yet the sagacious criticism of Berganza in the <cite>Coloquio de los perros</cite><a id="FNanchor_80" href="#Footnote_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a> -shows that he saw the absurdity of shepherds and shepherdesses passing "their -whole lives in singing and playing on the pipes, bagpipes, rebecks, and hautboys, -and other outlandish instruments." The intelligent dog perceived that all such -tales as the <cite>Diana</cite> "are dreams well written to amuse the idle, and not truth at -all, for, had they been so, there would have been some trace among my shepherds -of that most happy life and of those pleasant meadows, spacious woods, sacred -mountains, lovely gardens, clear streams and crystal fountains, and of those -lovers' wooings as virtuous as they were eloquent, and of that swoon of the -shepherd's in this spot, of the shepherdess's in that, of the bagpipe of one -shepherd sounding here, and the flageolet of the other sounding there." Cervantes -knew well enough that shepherds in real life were not called Lauso or -Jacinto, but Domingo or Pablo; and that they spent most of their leisure, not in -chanting elegies, but in catching fleas and mending their clogs. He tells us -so. And that he realised the faults of his own performance is evident from the -verdict pronounced on "the <cite>Galatea</cite> of Miguel de Cervantes" by the Priest in -<cite>Don Quixote</cite>:—"That Cervantes has been for many years a great friend of -mine, and to my knowledge he has had more experience in reverses than in -verses. His book has some good invention in it, it presents us with something -but brings nothing to a conclusion: we must wait for the Second Part it -promises: perhaps with amendment it may succeed in winning the full measure -of indulgence that is now denied it; and in the meantime do you, Señor Gossip, -keep it shut up in your own quarters."<a id="FNanchor_81" href="#Footnote_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxxvi"></a>[Pg xxxvi]</span></p> - -<p>This reference, as Mr. Ormsby noted, "is Cervantes all over in its tone of -playful stoicism with a certain quiet self-assertion." Cervantes had, indeed, a -special tenderness for the <cite>Galatea</cite> as being his eldest-born—<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">estas primicias de -mi corto ingenio</i>—and this is shown by his constant desire to finish it, his -persistent renewal of the promise with which the First Part closes. The history -of these promises is instructive. In 1585 Cervantes<a id="FNanchor_82" href="#Footnote_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a> publicly pledged himself to -bring out a continuation, if the First Part of the <cite>Galatea</cite> were a success: it was -to follow shortly (<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">con brevedad</i>). The work does not seem to have made -a great hit; but Cervantes, the only man entitled to an opinion on this -particular matter, was satisfied with its reception and, as the Priest's -speech shows, in 1605 he held by his intention of publishing the promised -sequel. But he dallied and tarried. <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Con brevedad</i> is, as posterity knows, -an expression which Cervantes interprets very liberally. Twenty-eight -years after the publication of the <cite>Galatea</cite>, he used the phrase once more -in the preface to the <cite>Novelas exemplares</cite>: the sequel to <cite>Don Quixote</cite>, he -promises, shall be forthcoming shortly (<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">con brevedad</i>). This announcement -caught Avellaneda's eye, and drove him into a grotesque frenzy of disappointment. -It seems evident that he took the words—<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">con brevedad</i>—in their literal -sense, imagining that Cervantes had nearly finished the Second Part of <cite>Don -Quixote</cite> in 1613, and that its appearance was a question of a few months more or -less. Accordingly, meanly determining to be first in the field, he hurried on -with his spurious sequel, penned his abusive preface, and rushed into print. It -is practically certain that this policy of sharp practice produced precisely the -result which he least desired. Perhaps he hoped that Cervantes, discouraged at -being thus forestalled, would abandon his own Second Part in disgust. There -was never a more complete miscalculation. Stung to the quick by Avellaneda's -insolence, Cervantes, in his turn, made what haste he could with the genuine continuation. -Had Avellaneda but known how to wait, the chances are that Cervantes -would have devoted his best energies to the composition of <cite>Las Semanas -del Jardín</cite> (promised in the dedication of the <cite>Novelas exemplares</cite>), or of <cite>El -Engaño á los ojos</cite> (promised in the preface to his volume of plays), or of <cite>El -famoso Bernardo</cite> (promised in the dedication of <cite>Persiles y Sigismunda</cite>). -Frittering away his diminishing strength on these various works, and enlarging -the design of <cite>Don Quixote</cite> from time to time—perhaps introducing -the Knight, the Squire, the Bachelor and the Priest as shepherds—Cervantes -might only too easily have left his masterpiece unfinished, were it not for the -unintentional stimulus given by Avellaneda's insults.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxxvii"></a>[Pg xxxvii]</span></p> - -<p>How far is this view of the probabilities confirmed, or refuted, by what occurred -in the case of the <cite>Galatea</cite>? The Second Part of that novel, like the Second -Part of <cite>Don Quixote</cite>, had been promised <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">con brevedad</i>. Ten years passed, and -still the sequel to the pastoral did not appear. Ticknor<a id="FNanchor_83" href="#Footnote_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a> records the tradition -that Cervantes "wrote the <cite>Galatea</cite> to win the favour of his lady," Doña Catalina -de Palacios Salazar y Vozmediano, and cynically adds that the new Pygmalion's -"success may have been the reason why he was less interested to finish it." The -explanation suggested is not particularly creditable to Cervantes, nor is it -credible in itself. Cervantes's intention, so often expressed, was excellent, and -it is simple justice to remember that, for the best part of the dozen years which -immediately followed the publication of the <cite>Galatea</cite>, he was earning his bread as -a tax-collector or tithe-proctor. This left him little time for literature. Twenty -years went by, and still the promised <cite>Galatea</cite> was not issued. One can -well understand it. Cervantes had been discharged from the public service: -he was close on sixty and seemed to have shot his bolt: his repute and -fortune were at the lowest point. His own belief in the <cite>Galatea</cite> might be -unbounded; but it was not very likely that he would succeed in persuading -my businesslike bookseller to issue the Second Part of a pastoral novel -which had (more or less) failed nearly a quarter of a century earlier. He struck -out a line for himself and, in a happy hour for the world, he found a publisher -for <cite>Don Quixote</cite>. It was the daring venture of a broken man with nothing -to lose, and its immense success completely changed his position. Henceforward -he was an author of established reputation, and publishers were ready enough -to take his prose and pay for it. As the reference in <cite>Don Quixote</cite> shows, -Cervantes had never, in his most hopeless moment, given up his idea of -publishing his sequel to the <cite>Galatea</cite>. His original promise in 1585 was -explicit, if conditional: and manifestly in 1605 he held that the condition had -been fulfilled. In the latter year he was much less explicit as to his -intention of publishing a continuation of <cite>Don Quixote</cite>, and, in the concluding -quotation adapted from <cite>Orlando Furioso</cite>, he almost invited some other writer to -finish the book. Probably no contemporary reader would have been surprised if -the sequel to the <cite>Galatea</cite> had appeared before the sequel to <cite>Don Quixote</cite>.<a id="FNanchor_84" href="#Footnote_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a> -Still it must be acknowledged that the instant triumph of <cite>Don Quixote</cite> altered -the situation radically. In these circumstances, which he could not -possibly have foreseen when he vaguely suggested that another hand might write -the further adventures of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, Cervantes was perfectly -justified in deciding to finish the later work before printing the earlier one. It -would have been the most natural thing in the world for an ordinary man to make -the most of his popularity and to bring out both sequels in rapid succession. But -Cervantes was not an ordinary man, and few points in his history are more -inexplicable than the fact that, after the amazing success of <cite>Don Quixote</cite>, he published -practically nothing for the next eight years.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxxviii"></a>[Pg xxxviii]</span></p> - -<p>At last in 1613, the <cite>Novelas exemplares</cite> were issued. The author was -silent as to the continuation of the <cite>Galatea</cite>, but he promised that the -Second Part of <cite>Don Quixote</cite> should be forthcoming—<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">con brevedad</i>. We -know what followed. The <cite>Viaje del Parnaso</cite> was published in the winter -of 1614; and, though it contains a short Letter Dedicatory and Preface,<a id="FNanchor_85" href="#Footnote_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a> -which might easily have been made the vehicle of a public announcement -in Cervantes's customary manner, there is no allusion to the new <cite>Don -Quixote</cite> or to the new <cite>Galatea</cite>. Next year, however, in the dedication<a id="FNanchor_86" href="#Footnote_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a> -of his <cite>Ocho comedias y ocho entremeses nuevos</cite>, Cervantes informed -the Conde de Lemos,—with whom the book was a special favourite<a id="FNanchor_87" href="#Footnote_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a>—that -he was pushing on with the <cite>Galatea</cite>. He makes the same statement in the -Prologue to the Second Part of <cite>Don Quixote</cite>,<a id="FNanchor_88" href="#Footnote_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a> and the assurance is repeated by -him on his deathbed in the noble Letter Prefatory to <cite>Persiles y Sigismunda</cite>.<a id="FNanchor_89" href="#Footnote_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a> -This latter is a solemn occasion, and Cervantes writes in a tone of impressive -gravity which indicates that he weighed the full meaning of what he knew would -be his last message. <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Ayer me dieron la Extremaunción, y hoy escribo esta: -el tiempo es breve, las ansias crecen, las esperanzas menguan.</i> And, in the -Prologue, written somewhat earlier, the old man eloquent bids this merry life -farewell, declares that his quips and jests are over, and appoints a final rendezvous -with his comrades in the next world. At this supreme moment his indomitable -spirit returns to his first love, and once more he promises—for the fifth time—the -continuation of the <cite>Galatea</cite>.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxxix"></a>[Pg xxxix]</span></p> -</div> - -<p>In view of the dying man's words it is exceptionally difficult to believe that -not a line of this sequel was actually written. It is equally difficult to -believe that, if the <cite>Galatea</cite> existed in a fragmentary state, the widow, the -daughter, the son-in-law, the patron, the publisher, the personal friends, the -countless admirers of the most illustrious and most popular novelist in all the -Spains, should have failed to print it. We cannot even venture to guess -what the facts of the case really were. From Cervantes's repeated declarations -it would seem probable that he left a considerable amount of literary manuscript -almost ready for the Licenser. With the exception of <cite>Persiles y Sigismunda</cite>, -every shred of every work that he mentions as being in preparation has -vanished. It would be strange if this befell an author of secondary rank: it is -incomprehensible when we consider Cervantes's unique position, recognized in -and out of Spain. All we know is this: that, on Cervantes's lips, <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">con -brevedad</i> might mean—in fact, did mean—more than thirty years, and that -the sequel to the <cite>Galatea</cite>, though promised on five separate occasions, never -appeared. Providence would seem to have decreed against the completion of -many Spanish pastorals. Montemôr's <cite>Diana</cite>, the sequels to it by Pérez and -Gil Polo, all remained unfinished: the <cite>Galatea</cite> is unfinished, too. It -is possible, but unlikely, that the world has been defrauded of a masterpiece. -Yet, unsuited as was the pastoral <em>genre</em> to the exercise of Cervantes's -individual genius, we should eagerly desire to study his treatment of the -old theme in the maturity of his genius and with the consciousness that his -splendid reputation was at stake. He might perhaps have given us an anticipation -in prose of Lope de Vega's play, <cite>La Arcadia</cite>,<a id="FNanchor_90" href="#Footnote_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a> a brilliant, poetic parody -after Cervantes's own heart. Fate has ruled against us, and</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">The unfinished window in Aladdin's tower</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Unfinished must remain.<a id="FNanchor_91" href="#Footnote_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xl"></a>[Pg xl]</span></p> - -<p>The pastorals lived on for many years in Spain<a id="FNanchor_92" href="#Footnote_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a> and out of it; but <cite>Don -Quixote</cite>, the <cite>Novelas exemplares</cite>, <cite>Guzmán de Alfarache</cite>, and the growing -crowd of picaresque realistic tales had so completely supplanted them in popular -favour that Cervantes himself could scarcely have worked the miracle of restoring -their former vogue among his countrymen.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xli"></a>[Pg xli]</span></p> -<p>Sr. D. Ramón León Máinez,<a id="FNanchor_93" href="#Footnote_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a> whose honourable enthusiasm for all that relates -to Cervantes forbids his admitting that there are spots on his sun, considers the -<cite>Galatea</cite> to be the best of pastorals, and other whole-hearted admirers (such as -August and Friedrich von Schlegel)<a id="FNanchor_94" href="#Footnote_94" class="fnanchor">[94]</a> have said as much. This, however, is not the -general verdict of those who have read the <cite>Galatea</cite> from beginning to end, and -really such readers are not many. Prescott<a id="FNanchor_95" href="#Footnote_95" class="fnanchor">[95]</a> cautiously observes that it is "a -beautiful specimen of an insipid class." Hazlitt, who may be taken as the honest -representative of a numerous constituency, confesses that he does not know the book, -and offers an ingenious apology for his remissness. Cervantes, he declares, claims -the highest honour which can belong to any author—"that of being the inventor of -a new style of writing." But, after this ingratiating prelude, he continues:—"I -have never read his <cite>Galatea</cite>, nor his <cite>Loves of Persiles and Sigismunda</cite>, -though I have often meant to do it, and I hope to do so yet. Perhaps there is a -reason lurking at the bottom of this dilatoriness. I am quite sure that the -reading of these works could not make me think higher of the author of <cite>Don -Quixote</cite>, and it might, for a moment or two, make me think less." And no -doubt it might: just as the reading of <cite>Hours of Idleness</cite>, of <cite>Zastrozzi</cite>, and of -<cite>Clotilde de Lusignan ou le beau Juif</cite> might, for a moment or two, make us -think less of the authors of <cite>Don Juan</cite>, of <cite>Epipsychidion</cite>, and of <cite>Eugénie Grandet</cite>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xlii"></a>[Pg xlii]</span></p> - -<p>The <cite>Galatea</cite> survives as the first timorous experiment of a daring genius. It -had no great vogue in Spain, and it is a mistake to say that "seven editions -were called for in the author's lifetime."<a id="FNanchor_96" href="#Footnote_96" class="fnanchor">[96]</a> At least, bibliographers know that, if -they were called for, they certainly did not appear. As a matter of fact the book -was only twice reprinted while Cervantes was alive, and, as neither of these -editions was published in Spain, it is possible that he was unaware of their -existence. In 1590 the <cite>Galatea</cite> was reproduced at Lisbon, expurgated of all -heathenish allusions by Frey Bertholameu Ferreyra, acting for the Portuguese -Inquisition; and this incomplete Portuguese reprint helped to make the pastoral -known outside the Peninsula. It so happened that César Oudin, a teacher of -Spanish at Paris—where he had already (1608) reprinted the <cite>Curioso impertinente</cite>,<a id="FNanchor_97" href="#Footnote_97" class="fnanchor">[97]</a>—travelled -through Spain and Portugal during 1610, and in the course of -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xliii"></a>[Pg xliii]</span>his journey he unsuccessfully endeavoured to obtain a copy of the Alcalá <cite>Galatea</cite>. -He had to be content with a copy of the mutilated Lisbon edition, and this he -reprinted in 1611 at Paris,<a id="FNanchor_98" href="#Footnote_98" class="fnanchor">[98]</a> probably with an eye to using it as a text-book for -his French pupils who were passing through an acute crisis of the pastoral fever. -M. Jourdain had not yet put his embarrassing question to his music and dancing -masters:—"Pourquoi toujours des bergers?" At all events, there is some -evidence to prove that the <cite>Galatea</cite> was popular in fashionable Parisian circles -while Cervantes still lived. In his <cite>Aprobación</cite> to the Second Part of <cite>Don -Quixote</cite>, the Licenciado Francisco Márquez Torres records that when, on -February 25, 1615, he visited the French embassy, he was beset by members of -the Envoy's suite<a id="FNanchor_99" href="#Footnote_99" class="fnanchor">[99]</a> who, taking fire at the mention of Cervantes's name, belauded -the First Part of <cite>Don Quixote</cite>, the <cite>Novelas exemplares</cite>, and the <cite>Galatea</cite>—which -one of them knew almost by heart.<a id="FNanchor_100" href="#Footnote_100" class="fnanchor">[100]</a> It is unlikely that the author himself -knew much of the <cite>Galatea</cite> by heart; but at about this period Honoré d'Urfé<a id="FNanchor_101" href="#Footnote_101" class="fnanchor">[101]</a> -had restored the vogue of pastoralism in France, and Márquez Torres's ecstatic -Frenchman (if he really existed) only shewed the tendency to exaggeration -characteristic of recent converts. He was, very possibly, among the last of the -elect in Madrid. One edition—some say two editions—of the <cite>Galatea</cite> appeared -posthumously in 1617: two more editions (provincial, like their immediate -predecessor or predecessors) were issued in 1618. Then the dust of a hundred -years settled down on all copies of the forgotten book. Three reprints during -the eighteenth century, ten reprints during the nineteenth century, satisfied the -public demand.<a id="FNanchor_102" href="#Footnote_102" class="fnanchor">[102]</a></p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xliv"></a>[Pg xliv]</span></p> -<p>The sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries did not produce a single -translation of the <cite>Galatea</cite>.<a id="FNanchor_103" href="#Footnote_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</a> But in 1783 appeared a French adaptation of this -pastoral by the once famous Chevalier Jean-Pierre Claris de Florian,<a id="FNanchor_104" href="#Footnote_104" class="fnanchor">[104]</a> who compressed -the six books of the original into three, added a fourth book of his own -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xlv"></a>[Pg xlv]</span> -in which he married Elicio to Galatea, and so contrived a happy ending. "Il -<em>florianise</em> tant soit peu toutes choses," says Sainte-Beuve<a id="FNanchor_105" href="#Footnote_105" class="fnanchor">[105]</a> drily. In this -delicate, perfumed, powder-and-patch arrangement by the idyllic woman-beater<a id="FNanchor_106" href="#Footnote_106" class="fnanchor">[106]</a> -and Captain of Dragoons, Cervantes's novel became astonishingly popular. Edition -after edition was struck off from the French presses, and the work was read all -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xlvi"></a>[Pg xlvi]</span> -over Europe in translations: three in German, two in Italian, three in English, -two in Portuguese, one in Greek. Odder still, in this form, the book made its -way home again and, just as certain Spaniards who had forgotten Guillén de -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xlvii"></a>[Pg xlvii]</span> -Castro enjoyed Juan Bautista Diamante's translation (1658) of Corneille's <cite>Cid</cite>, so -three editions go to prove that, a century and a half later, certain other Spaniards -who had forgotten Cervantes enjoyed Casiano Pellicer's translation (1797) of -Florian's <cite>Galatée</cite>.<a id="FNanchor_107" href="#Footnote_107" class="fnanchor">[107]</a> And there was more to follow next year. Cándido María -Trigueros<a id="FNanchor_108" href="#Footnote_108" class="fnanchor">[108]</a> showed himself worthy of his Christian name by bettering -Florian's example: he laid violent hands on Cervantes, suppressed here, amplified -there, purged the book of its verses, and supplied a still happier ending—on -a monumental scale—by incontinently marrying ten lucky shepherds to ten -lovely shepherdesses. One cannot help wondering what Cervantes would have -thought of this astounding performance. It was too much for the Spanish public, -and Trigueros turned to do better work in adapting old plays to the modern -stage. The taste for Arcadianism died away at the beginning of the nineteenth -century. Artificial pastorals have, indeed, not yet recovered from a polite but -deadly note published in the preface to <cite>Obermann</cite>: "Le genre pastoral, le genre -descriptif out beaucoup d'expressions rebattues, dont les moins tolérables, à mon -avis, sont les figures employées quelques millions de fois et qui, dès la première, -affaiblissent l'objet qu'elles prétendaient agrandir." Such expressions, continues -the writer, are <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">l'émail des prés</i>, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">l'azur des cieux</i>, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">le cristal des eaux</i>, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">les lis et -les roses de son teint</i>, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">les gages de son amour</i>, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">l'innocence du hameau</i>, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">des</i> -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">torrens s'échapperènt de ses yeux</i>—"et tant d'autres que je ne veux pas condamner -exclusivement, mais que j'aime mieux ne pas rencontrer." Sénancour -was perhaps thinking more particularly of Florian at the moment, but his -criticism applies also to Cervantes's first book.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xlviii"></a>[Pg xlviii]</span></p> - -<p>It was not till 1830 that the first genuine translation of the <cite>Galatea</cite> -appeared, and this German version was followed by two others in the same -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xlix"></a>[Pg xlix]</span> -language. These stood alone till 1867<a id="FNanchor_109" href="#Footnote_109" class="fnanchor">[109]</a> when it occurred to a droll, strange man -named Gordon Willoughby James Gyll (or James Willoughby Gordon Gill),<a id="FNanchor_110" href="#Footnote_110" class="fnanchor">[110]</a> to -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_l"></a>[Pg l]</span> -publish an English rendering of Cervantes's pastoral in which, as he thought, -"the rural characters are nicely defined; modesty and grace with simplicity -prevailing." Gyll, who wrongly imagined that he was the first to translate -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_li"></a>[Pg li]<a id="Page_lii"></a>[Pg lii]</span> -the <cite>Galatea</cite>, seems to have been specially attracted by Cervantes's verses,—a -compliment which the author would have enjoyed all the more on learning from -his admirer that these "compositions are cast in lyrics and iambics, without -being quite of a dithyrambic character, furnishing relief to the prose, and -evincing the skill and tendency of the bard in all effusions relative to love, the -master-passion of our existence, without which all would be arid and disappointing -to the eagle spirit of the child of song." After this opening you know -what to expect. And you get it—three hundred and forty-nine pages of it! -Gyll never writes of parts, but of "portions"; rather than leave a place, he will -"evacuate" it; nothing will induce him to return if he can "revert"; he prefers -"scintillations" to gleams, "perturbators" to disturbers, "cogitation" to -thought, and "exculpations" to excuses. Gyll's English, as may be judged -from the specimens just quoted, is almost as eccentric as the English of -Mohindronauth Mookerjee in his <cite>Memoir of the late Honourable Justice -Onoocool Chunder Mookerjee</cite>, and it is much less amusing. His effrontery is -beyond description. He knew nothing of Cervantes whom he actually believed -to be a contemporary of Floridablanca in the eighteenth century.<a id="FNanchor_111" href="#Footnote_111" class="fnanchor">[111]</a> He almost -implies that he has read Cervantes's lost <cite>Filena</cite>, though he admits that it "is -now rarely found." His ignorance of Spanish is illimitable. How he can have -presumed to translate from it passes all understanding. He misinterprets the -easiest phrases, and he follows the simple plan of translating each word by the -first rough equivalent that he finds given in some poor dictionary. It would be -waste of time to criticize the inflated prose and detestable verse which combine -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_liii"></a>[Pg liii]<a id="Page_liv"></a>[Pg liv]</span> -to make Gyll's rendering the worst in the world. Two specimens will suffice to -show what Gyll can do when he gives his mind to it. At the very opening of the -First Book, he reveals his powers:—"But the perspicacity of Galatea detected in -the motions of his countenance what Elicio contained in his soul, and she evinced -such condescension that the words of the enamoured shepherd congealed in his -mouth, though it appeared to him that he had done an injury to her, even to -treat of what might not have the semblance of rectitude." This is Gyll as a -master of prose. Gyll, the lyric poet, is even richer in artistic surprises. Take, -for instance, the closing stanzas of Lauso's song at the beginning of the Fifth -Book:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<p>In this extraordinary agony,<br /> -The feelings entertained go but for dumb<br /> -Seeing that love defies,<br /> -And I am cast in the midst of the fierce fire.<br /> -Cold water I abhor<br /> -Were it not for my eyes,<br /> -Which fire augments and spoils<br /> -In this amorous forge.<br /> -I wish not or seek water,<br /> -Or from annoyance supplicate relief.</p> - -<p>Begin would all my good,<br /> -My ills would finish all,<br /> -If fate should so ordain,<br /> -That my sincere trust in life,<br /> -Silenca<a id="FNanchor_112" href="#Footnote_112" class="fnanchor">[112]</a> would assure,<br /> -Sighs assure it.<br /> -My eyes do thoroughly me inform<br /> -Me weeping in this truth.<br /> -Pen, tongue, will<br /> -In this inflexible reason me confirm.</p> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_lv"></a>[Pg lv]</span></p> - - -<p>These examples speak for themselves.<a id="FNanchor_113" href="#Footnote_113" class="fnanchor">[113]</a> Cervantes was not indeed a very great -poet; but his verses are often graceful and melodious, and it would have afflicted -him sorely to see his lines travestied in this miserable fashion. It is inexplicable -that such absolute nonsense should be published. But it is a singular testimony -to the public interest in all concerning Cervantes that, in default of anything -better, this discreditable version should have been read, and even reprinted.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_lvi"></a>[Pg lvi]<a id="Page_lvii"></a>[Pg lvii]</span></p> - -<p>For the present edition a new translation has been prepared. It proceeds on -the one sound principle of translating from the original as faithfully as -possible, without either omission or addition. The task of rendering the -<cite>Galatea</cite> into English is less trying, and therefore less tempting, than the -task of rendering <cite>Don Quixote</cite> or the <cite>Novelas exemplares</cite>; but the <cite>Galatea</cite> -offers numerous difficulties, and it will be found that these have been very -satisfactorily overcome by Dr. Oelsner and Mr. A. Baker Welford. They have -the distinction of producing the first really adequate translation of the <cite>Galatea</cite> -in any language.</p> - -<p class="p1 right" style="padding-right: 10%; ">JAS. FITZMAURICE-KELLY.</p> - -<p class="indent2">February, 1903.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_lviii"></a>[Pg lviii]</span></p> -</div> - -<div class="footnotes"> -<p class="p4 big1 center">FOOTNOTES:</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[1]</a> The article on Cervantes in Nicolás Antonio's <cite>Bibliotheca Hispana</cite> (Roma, -1672), vol. ii., p. 105, is bibliographical rather than biographical. In Antonio's -time practically nothing was known concerning the details of Cervantes's life. -It is curious that the first writer to attempt a biography of Cervantes was a -foreigner—possibly Peter Motteux, whose English translation dates from 1700: -a biographical sketch, entitled <cite>An Account of the Author</cite>, was included in -the third volume (London, 1703). The following sentences, which I quote from the -first volume of the third edition (London, 1712), are not without interest:— -</p> -<p> -"For the other Passages of his Life, we are only given to understand that he -was for some time Secretary to the Duke of Alva" (p. ii). "Some are of the -Opinion, that upon our Author's being neglectfully treated by the Duke of Lerma, -first Minister to K. Philip the Third, a strange imperious, haughty Man, and one -who had no Value for Men of Learning; he in Revenge, made this Satyr which, -as they pretend, is chiefly aim'd at that Minister" (pp. iii.-iv.). The biographer -then refers to Avellaneda's spurious sequel, and continues:—"Our Author was -extremely concern'd at this Proceeding, and the more too, because this Writer -was not content to invade his Design, and rob him, as 'tis said, of some of his -Copy, but miserably abuses poor Cervantes in his Preface" (p. iv.). -</p> -<p> -These idle rumours as to Cervantes's relations with Lerma are taken from -René Rapin's <cite>Réflexions sur la poétique d'Aristote, et sur les ouvrages des -Poetes anciens & modernes</cite> (Paris, 1674, p. 229) and from Louis Moréri's -<cite>Grand Dictionaire historique ou le mélange curieux de l'histoire sacrée -et profane</cite> (Paris, 1687, third edition, vol. i., p. 795); but it is odd to find -them reaching England before they reached Spain. Mayáns and Pedro Murillo -Velarde do not reproduce them till 1737 and 1752 respectively: the first in his -<cite>Vida de Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra</cite> (Briga-Real), and the second in his -<cite>Geographica historica</cite> (Madrid), vol x., lib. x., p. 28.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">[2]</a> See the <cite>Vida de Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra</cite> in Tonson's reprint of <cite>Don -Quixote</cite> (Londres, 1738), vol. i., p. 6. This edition is generally described as Lord -Carteret's edition; but, though Carteret certainly commissioned Mayáns to write -the biography of Cervantes, and though he may have patronized Tonson's venture, -it does not seem so sure that he paid for printing the text (which, as regards the -First Part, is merely a mechanical reproduction of the 1607 Brussels edition). -The usual version of the story is that Carteret, on looking over the library of -Queen Caroline, wife of George II., missed <cite>Don Quixote</cite> from the shelves, and -ordered the sumptuous Tonson edition with a view to making the Queen a present -of the most delightful book in the world. It may be so. Carteret appears to -have been interested in Spanish literature, and we know that Harry Bridges's -translation (Bristol, 1728) of some of the <cite>Novelas exemplares</cite> was brought out -"under the Protection of His Excellency." But, with regard to Carteret's -defraying the entire cost of Tonson's reprint of <cite>Don Quixote</cite>, there are some -circumstances which cause one to hesitate before accepting the report as true. -So far as can be gathered, the first mention of Carteret in this connexion is found -in Juan Antonio Mayáns's preface to the sixth edition (Valencia, 1792) of Luis -Gálvez de Montalvo's <cite>Pastor de Fílida</cite>:— -</p> -<p> -"Carolina, Reina de Inglaterra, muger de Jorge segundo, avia juntado, para -su entretenimiento, una coleccion de libros de Inventiva, i la llamava <cite>La -Bibliotheca del sabio Merlin</cite>, i aviendosela enseñado a Juan Baron Carteret, le -dijo este sabio apreciador de los Escritores Españoles, que faltava en ella la -Ficcion más agradable, que se avia escrito en el Mundo, que era la Vida de D. -Quijote de la Mancha, i que él queria tener el mérito de colocarla" (p. xxv.). -</p> -<p> -This statement, it will be seen, was made more than fifty years after the event -to which it refers. Nevertheless it may be true. Juan Antonio Mayáns may have -had the story from Gregorio Mayáns. He was most unlikely to invent it, and the -fact that he gives 1737 as the date of Gregorio's biography inclines one to believe -in his general accuracy: all other writers give 1738 as the date, but it has -recently been found that a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tirage à part</i> was struck off at Briga-Real (i.e. Madrid) -a year before the <cite>Vida</cite> was printed in London. It must, however, be remembered -that Gregorio Mayáns never met Carteret, and was never in England. Knowing -that Carteret paid him for his share in the work, he might easily have imagined -that Carteret also paid Tonson, and may have been understood to state this -inference as a positive fact. In any case, the memory of an elderly man is not -always trustworthy in such matters as these. Moreover, as Gregorio Mayáns -died in 1781, we must allow for the possibility of error on the part of Juan -Antonio, when repeating a tale that he had heard at least eleven years before. -</p> -<p> -Some external evidence, such as it is, tells against the common belief, -Leopoldo Rius in his <cite>Bibliografía crítica de las obras de Miguel de Cervantes -Saavedra</cite> (Madrid, 1895-1899) notes (vol. ii. p. 300) a German work entitled -<cite>Angenehmes Passetems</cite> (Frankfurt and Leipzig, 1734): in the preface to -this publication it is stated as a piece of news that the Spanish Ambassador in -London, the Conde de Montijo, has ordered a copy of <cite>Don Quixote</cite> to be -handsomely bound for Queen Caroline. We do not know if Montijo gave her -the book, but it seems certain that <cite>Don Quixote</cite> was in her library. A copy -of the Antwerp edition of 1719, bearing her name and the royal crown, passed -into the possession of my friend, the late Mr. Henry Spencer Ashbee: see his -pamphlet, <cite>Some Books about Cervantes</cite> (London, 1900), pp. 29-30. Possibly -the interview with Carteret took place before 1734, or before Queen Caroline -possessed the Antwerp edition. But it is worth noting that the Queen died -on November 20, 1737, and that Tonson's edition appeared next spring. If -Carteret were so deeply engaged in the undertaking as we are assured, and if -his chief motive were (as reported) to pay a courtly compliment to Queen -Caroline, it is strange that he should not have caused the edition to be dedicated -to the Queen's memory, and it is still stranger that the preliminaries should not -contain the least allusion to her. As it happens, the Dedication, dated March 26, -1738, is addressed to the Condesa de Montijo, wife of the ex-Ambassador above-named. -It would be a small but useful service if one of Cervantes's many -English admirers should establish what share Carteret actually had in an enterprise -for which, hitherto, he has received the whole credit.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3" class="label">[3]</a> See <cite>El Ingenioso Hidalgo Don Quixote de la Mancha....</cite> Nueva edición -corregida por la Real Academia Española (Madrid, 1780), vol. i., p. xii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4" class="label">[4]</a> See Juan Antonio Pellicer's edition of <cite>Don Quixote</cite> (Madrid, 1797-1798), -vol. i. pp. lxxv.-lxxvi.: "Restituido pues Cervantes á España en la primavera -del año de 1581 fixó su residencia en Madrid.... Hizo también lugar para -escribir y publicar el año de 1584 <cite>La Galatea</cite>." -</p> -<p> -It appears that all the assertions here made by Pellicer are mistaken. (1) -Cervantes did not return to Spain in the spring of 1581, but late in 1580; (2) he -did not reside permanently in Madrid during 1581, for we find him at Tomar on -May 21 of that year; (3) if we are to understand that the <cite>Galatea</cite> was composed -in 1684, this is disproved by the fact that the manuscript was passed by the -censor on February 1, 1584, and must naturally have been in his possession for -some time previously; (4) it will be shewn that the <cite>Galatea</cite> was not published -in 1584, but in 1585. Pellicer is not to be blamed for not knowing the real -facts. The pity is that he should give his guesses as though they were -certainties. Yet, in a sense, events have justified his boldness; for no man's -guesses have been more widely accepted.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5" class="label">[5]</a> See Martín Fernández de Navarrete's <cite>Vida de Miguel de Cervantes -Saavedra</cite> (Madrid, 1819), pp. 65-68. Navarrete, however, points out that the -<cite>Galatea</cite> cannot have appeared early in 1584, as his predecessors had alleged: -"No se publicó hasta los últimos meses de aquel año." I do not understand him -to say that the book was published at Madrid.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="label">[6]</a> See George Ticknor's <cite>History of Spanish Literature</cite> (Sixth American -Edition, Boston, 1888), vol. ii., p. 117.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7" class="label">[7]</a> Amongst others, John Gibson Lockhart in his <cite>Introduction</cite> to a reprint of -Peter Motteux's version of <cite>Don Quixote</cite> (Edinburgh, 1822), vol. i., p. 25; Thomas -Roscoe, <cite>The Life and Writings of Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra</cite> (London, -1839), p. 38; Mrs. Oliphant in her <cite>Cervantes</cite> (Edinburgh and London, 1880), -p. 76; and Alexander James Duffield in his <cite>Don Quixote: his critics and -commentators</cite> (London, 1881), p. 79. In his <cite>Later Renaissance</cite> (London, -1898), p. 149, Mr. David Hannay gives the date as 1580. On the other hand, -John Ormsby stated the facts with his habitual accuracy in the Introduction -to the first edition of his translation of <cite>Don Quixote</cite> (London, 1885), vol. i., -p. 29.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8" class="label">[8]</a> See C.-B. Dumaine's <cite>Essai sur la vie et les œuvres de Cervantes d'après -un travail inédit de D. Luis Carreras</cite> (Paris, 1897), p. 47: "Les vers de la -Galatée remontent au temps de son séjour en Italie. Ces poésies étaient -addressées à une dame, à laquelle il témoignait de tendres sentiments."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9" class="label">[9]</a> See Sr. D. José María Asensio y Toledo's <cite>Nuevos documentos para ilustrar -la vida de Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, con algunas observaciones y -articulos sobre la vida y obras del mismo autor y las pruebas de la -autenticidad de su verdadero retrato</cite> (Seville, 1864), pp. 51-52. Sr. Asensio -y Toledo, who repeats his view as to the date of composition in his <cite>Cervantes -y sus obras</cite> (Barcelona, 1901), p. 195, relies mainly on an expression in the -preface: "Huyendo destos dos inconvenientes no he publicado antes de ahora este -libro." Taken by itself, this phrase certainly implies that the book had been -completed some time before; but the passage is too rhetorically, and too -vaguely, worded to admit of safe deductions being drawn from it. The idea -that the <cite>Galatea</cite> was written in Portugal was thrown out long ago by Eustaquio -Fernández de Navarrete: see his <cite>Bosquejo histórico sobre la novela española</cite> -in Manuel Rivadeneyra, <cite>Biblioteca de autores españoles</cite>, (Madrid, 1854), -vol. xxxiii., p. xxiv.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10" class="label">[10]</a> Lucas Gracián Dantisco wrote an imitation of Della Casa's book under the -title of <cite>Galateo español</cite> (Barcelona, 1594). His brother, Tomás, is mentioned by -Cervantes in the <cite>Canto de Calíope</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11" class="label">[11]</a> The earliest known edition of the <cite>Celestina</cite> is believed to be represented by an -unique copy which was once in Heber's collection. The colophon of this volume is -dated Burgos 1499; but there is some doubt concerning the date inasmuch as the -last page has been recently inserted and may not be a faithful reproduction of -the original printer's mark. It is, however, tolerably certain that this edition -came from the press of Fadrique de Basilea (Friedrich Biel): for whom, see -Conrad Haebler's <cite>Typographie Ibérique du quinzième siècle</cite> (La Haye -and Leipzig, 1901), pp. 30-32. It is also fairly certain that this Heber copy, -whatever its exact date may be, is earlier than the Seville edition of 1501, -reprinted (1900) by M. Raymond Foulché-Delbosc in his <cite>Bibliotheca Hispanica</cite>. -Finally, the probability is that the edition which survives in the Heber volume -was preceded by another edition of which no trace remains: see M. Foulché-Delbosc's -remarkable <cite>Observations sur la Célestine</cite> in the <cite>Revue hispanique</cite> -(Paris, 1900), vol. vii., pp. 28-80.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12" class="label">[12]</a> The earliest known edition of <cite>Amadís de Gaula</cite> (Zaragoza, 1508) is believed -to exist in an unique copy in the British Museum, press-marked as C. 57. g. 6. -But there is reason to think that there was a previous edition which has disappeared.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_13" href="#FNanchor_13" class="label">[13]</a> There are three distinct editions of <cite>Lazarillo de Tormes</cite> all dated 1554. They -were published respectively at Alcalá de Henares, Burgos, and Antwerp, and—so -M. Foulché-Delbosc inclines to believe—in the order here given: see his <cite>Remarques -sur Lazarille de Tormes</cite> in the <cite>Revue hispanique</cite> (Paris, 1900). vol. vii., -pp. 81-97. M. Foulché-Delbosc argues with great ingenuity that these three -editions of 1554 derive from another edition (printed before February 26, 1554) of -which no copy has as yet been found.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_14" href="#FNanchor_14" class="label">[14]</a> Sr. D. Francisco Rodríguez Marín mentions that a copy of the <em>princeps</em> of the -<cite>Primera Parte de Guzmán de Alfarache</cite> (Madrid, 1599) existed in the library of -the Marqués de Jerez de Caballeros, recently acquired by Mr. Archer M. Huntington: -see Rodríguez Marín's <cite>El Loaysa de "El Celoso Extremeño"</cite> (Sevilla, -1901), p. 283, <em>n.</em> 102. Another copy of this rare edition is in the British Museum -Library.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_15" href="#FNanchor_15" class="label">[15]</a> Rius (<em>op. cit.</em>, vol. i., p. 4) mentions eight copies of the <em>princeps</em> of <cite>Don -Quixote</cite> (Madrid, 1605), and it is certain that there are other copies in existence.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_16" href="#FNanchor_16" class="label">[16]</a> In <cite>Miguel de Cervantes, his life & works</cite> (London, 1895), p. 267, Mr. -Henry Edward Watts, says of the Alcalá <cite>Galatea</cite> (1585) that "only one copy is -known—in the possession of the Marqués de Salamanca." This is a mistake. -Rius, who does not refer to the volume alleged to be in the Marqués de Salamanca's -possession, specifies (<em>op. cit.</em>, vol. i., pp. 100-101) five other copies. He could -not be expected to know that there was yet another copy in England. English -students of Cervantes were, however, aware of the fact fifteen years before the -publication of Mr. Watts's work: see <cite>A Catalogue of the printed books, -manuscripts, autograph letters, and engravings, collected by Henry Huth. -With collations and bibliographical descriptions</cite> (London, 1880), vol. i., p. 282.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_17" href="#FNanchor_17" class="label">[17]</a> See the Introduction to vol. vii. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1902), p. viii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_18" href="#FNanchor_18" class="label">[18]</a> It may be interesting to note the exact dates attached to the official instruments -in Haedo's book. The <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Licencia</i> of the General of the Benedictines was -signed by his deputy, Fray Gregorio de Lazcano, at Valladolid on October 6, 1604; -the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Aprobación</i> was signed by Antonio de Herrera at Madrid on October 18, -1608; the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Privilegio</i> was signed by Jorge de Tovar at Madrid on February 18, -1610; the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Fe de erratas</i> was signed by Dr. Agustín de Vergara at Valladolid on -June 3, 1612; the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Tasa</i> was signed by Miguel Ondarza Zabala at Madrid -on October 19, 1612. As we have already seen, the last-named signed the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Tasa</i> -of the <cite>Galatea</cite> some twenty-six years previously.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_19" href="#FNanchor_19" class="label">[19]</a> See Fernández de Navarrete, <em>op. cit.</em>, pp. 392-393: "Petri ad vincula 1º día -de agosto de 1584 murió el Ilmo. Sr. Marco Antonio Colona, virey de Sicilia, en -casa del Ilmo. Sr. duque de Medinaceli, que fué miércoles en la noche, á las once -horas de la noche: rescibió todos los sacramentos: no hizo testamento: enterróse -en depósito, que se hizo ante Hernando de Durango, secretario del consejo del Ilmo. -Sr. duque, en la capilla mayor de esta colegial á la parte del evangelio, debajo -de la reja de las reliquias; hiciéronse tres oficios con el cabildo de esta colegial, -y en todos tres oficios celebraron por el ánima de S. E. todos los prebendados, -y seis días consecutivos, que fué cada prebendado nueve misas: no se hizo -otra cosa,—El canónigo Guzmán."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_20" href="#FNanchor_20" class="label">[20]</a> See the <cite>Catálogo de la biblioteca de Salvá</cite>, escrito por D. Pedro Salvá y -Mallen, y enriquecido con la descripcion de otras muchas obras, de sus ediciones, -etc. (Valencia, 1872), vol. ii., p. 124, no. 1740.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_21" href="#FNanchor_21" class="label">[21]</a> See the <cite>Obras de Don Juan Donoso Cortés</cite>, ordenadas y precedidas de una -noticia biográfica por Don Gavino Tejado (Madrid, 1854), vol. iv., pp. 59-60: -"Entre la verdad y la razón humana, después de la prevaricación del hombre, ha -puesto Dios una repugnancia inmortal y una repulsión invencible ... entre la -razón humana y lo absurdo hay una afinidad secreta, un parentesco estrechísimo."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_22" href="#FNanchor_22" class="label">[22]</a> Of these perplexing statements it will suffice to note a few which occur in -<cite>Miguel de Cervantes, his life & works by Henry Edward Watts</cite> (London, -1895): -</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>(<em>a</em>) "A new epoch in the life of Cervantes opens in 1584. In that year he -printed his first book...." (p. 76). -</p> -<p> -(<em>b</em>) "A few days before the publication of <cite>Galatea</cite>, Cervantes was married at -Esquivias.... The 12th of December, 1584, was the date of the ceremony." -(p. 90). -</p> -<p> -(<em>c</em>) "Cervantes married his wife in December, 1584, and for reasons which -will be manifest to those who have read the story of his life I think we may -presume that his first book was printed before that date." (p. 257). -</p> -<p> -(<em>d</em>) "The <cite>Galatea</cite>, Cervantes' first book ... was approved for publication -on the 1st of February, 1584, but, for some reason not explained, it was not -published till the beginning of the year following." (p. 87). -</p> -<p> -(<em>e</em>) "Salvá maintains it (<em>i.e.</em> the Alcalá edition of 1585) to be the <em>editio -princeps</em>, but I agree with Asensio and the older critics in believing that -there must have been an edition of 1584." (p. 257). -</p> -<p> -(<em>f</em>) "Navarrete and Ticknor, following all the older authorities, make the -place of publication Madrid and the date 1584. But Salvá has proved in his -Bibliography that the <cite>Galatea</cite> was first published at Alcalá, the author's birthplace, -at the beginning of 1585." (p. 87 <em>n.</em> 3). -</p> -<p> -These sentences do not appear to convey a strictly consistent view: (<em>b</em>) contradicts -(<em>c</em>), (<em>c</em>) contradicts (<em>d</em>), (<em>d</em>) contradicts (<em>e</em>), and (<em>e</em>) contradicts (<em>f</em>).</p></div> - -<p> As to (<em>b</em>) and (<em>d</em>), the expressions "a few days" and "the beginning of the new -year" should evidently be interpreted in a non-natural sense. The <em>Tasa</em>, as we -have seen, was not signed at Madrid till March 13, 1585; the next step was to -return the printed sheets to the publisher at Alcalá de Henares; the publisher had -then to forward the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Tasa</i> to the printer, and finally the whole edition had to be -bound. In these circumstances, the date of publication cannot easily be placed -earlier than April, 1585. Accordingly, the expression (<em>b</em>)—"a few days"—must -be taken to mean about ninety or a hundred days: and "the beginning of the -year," mentioned under (<em>d</em>), must be advanced from January to April. -</p> -<p> -Concerning (<em>e</em>), it is true that Sr. Asensio y Toledo was at one time inclined to -believe in the existence of a 1584 edition of the <cite>Galatea</cite>: see Salvá, <em>op. cit.</em>, -vol ii, p. 124. But Sr. Asensio y Toledo admitted that Salvá's argument had -shaken him: "sus observaciones de V. me han hecho parar un poco." This was -over thirty years ago. Meanwhile, Sr. Asensio y Toledo has revised his opinion, -as may be seen in his latest publication, <cite>Cervantes y sus obras</cite> (Barcelona. 1902). -"En el año 1585 salió á luz <cite>La Galatea</cite>" (p. 268).... "El libro se -imprimió en Alcalá, por Juan Gracián, y es de la más extremada rareza" (pp. 382-383). -He now accepts Salvá's view without reserve. -</p> -<p> -As to (<em>f</em>), I have searched Navarrete's five hundred and eighty pages and -Ticknor's one thousand six hundred and ninety-seven pages, but have been -unable to find that either of them gives Madrid as the place of publication. An -exact reference to authorities is always advisable.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_23" href="#FNanchor_23" class="label">[23]</a> See the <cite>Life of Miguel de Cervantes by Henry Edward Watts</cite> (London, -1891), p. 117.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_24" href="#FNanchor_24" class="label">[24]</a> See <cite>Miguel de Cervantes, his life & works by Henry Edward Watts</cite> -(London, 1895), p. 257.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_25" href="#FNanchor_25" class="label">[25]</a> See <cite>Documentos Cervantinos hasta ahora inéditos recogidos y anotados -por el Presbítero D. Cristóbal Pérez Pastor Doctor en Ciencias</cite>. Publicados -á expensas del Excmo. Señor D. Manuel Pérez de Guzmán y Boza, Marqués de -Jerez de los Caballeros (Madrid, 1902), vol. ii., pp. 87-89: "Madrid, 14 Junio -1584. En la villa de Madrid a catorce días del mes de Junio de mil e quinientos -e ochenta e quatro años por ante mi el escribano público e testigos deyuso -escriptos, paresció presente Miguel de Çerbantes, residente en esta corte, e otorgó -que zede, vende, renuncia e traspassa en Blas de Robles, mercader de libros, -residente en esta corte, un libro de prosa y verso en que se contienen los seis -libros de Galatea, que él ha compuesto en nuestra lengua castellana, y le entrega -el previllegio original que de Su Magestad tiene firmado de su real mano y -refrendado de Antonio de Heraso, su secretario, fecho en esta villa en veinte e dos -días del mes de Hebrero deste presente año de ochenta e quatro para que en -virtud de él el dicho Blas de Robles, por el tiempo en él contenido, haga imprimir -e vender e venda el dicho libro y hacer sobre ello lo (<em>sic</em>) y lo a ello anejo, -dezesorio y dependiente, todo lo que el dicho Miguel de Çerbantes haria a hazer -podria siendo presente, y para que cumplidos los dichos dies años del dicho -previllegio pueda pedir e pida una o más prorrogaciones y usar y use de ellas y -del privillegio que de nuevo se le concediere, esto por prescio de mill e trescientos e -treynta e seys reales que por ello le da e paga de contado de que se dió y otorgó -por bien contento y entregado a toda su voluntad, y en razón de la paga y entrega -dellos, que de presente no paresce, renunció la excepcion de la <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">non numerata -pecunia</i> y las dos leyes y excepcion del derecho que hablan e son en razón de la -prueba del entregamiento como en ellas y en cada una de ellas se contiene, que no -le valan, e se obligó que le será cierto e sano el dicho previllegio e las demas -prorrogaciones que se le dieren e concedieren en virtud de él e de este poder e -cesion e no le será pedido ni alegado engaño, aunque sea enormísimo, en más o en -menos de la mitad del justo precio, porque desde agora, caso que pudiera haber el -dicho engaño, que no le hay, se lo suelta, remite y perdona, y si alguna cosa -intentare a pedir no sea oido en juicio ni fuera de él, y se obligó que el dicho -previllegio será cierto e sano e seguro y no se le porná en ello agora ni en tiempo -alguno por ninguna manera pleito ni litigio alguno, e si le fuere puesto incoará -por ello causa y la seguirá, fenescerá y acabará a su propia costa o mision e -cumplimiento de su interese, por manera que pacificamente el dicho Blas de Robles -quede con el dicho previllegio e prorrogaciones libremente so pena de le pagar -todas las costas e daños que sobre ello se le recrescieren, e para el cumplimiento -de ello obligó su persona e bienes, habidos e por haber, e dió poder cumplido a -todas e qualesquier justicias e juezes de Su Magestad Real de qualesquier partes -que sean al fuero e jurisdicion de las quales y de cada una de ellas se sometió, e -renunció su propio fuero, jurisdicion e domicilio y la ley <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">Si convenerit de -jurisdictione omnium judicum</i> para que por todo rigor de derecho e via -executiva le compelan e apremien a lo ansi cumplir e pagar con costas como si -sentencia definitiva fuese dada contra él e por él consentida e pasada en cosa -juzgada, e renunció las leyes de su favor e la ley e derecho en que dice que -general renunciacion fecha de leyes non vala, e ansi lo otorgó e firmó de su -nombre siendo testigos Francisco Martínez e Juan Aguado e Andrea de Obregón, -vecinos de le dicha villa, al qual dicho otorgante doy fee conozco.—Miguel de -Cerbantes.—Pasó ante mi Francisco Martínez, escribano.—Derechos xxxiiij<sup>o</sup>."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_26" href="#FNanchor_26" class="label">[26]</a> Sr. Asensio y Toledo (<em>op. cit.</em>, p. 194) inclines to think that Cervantes, when -engaged on the first rough draft of his novel, intended to call it <cite>Silena</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_27" href="#FNanchor_27" class="label">[27]</a> <cite>Documentos</cite>, vol. ii., pp. 90-92. "Madrid, 14 Junio 1584. Sepan quantos -esta carta de obligacion vieren como yo Blas de Robles, mercader de libros, vecino -de esta villa de Madrid, digo: que por quanto hoy día de la fecha de esta carta y -por ante el escribano yuso escripto, Miguel de Çervantes, residente en esta corte -de Su Magestad, me ha vendido un libro intitulado los seys libros de Galatea, que -el dicho Çervantes ha compuesto en nuestra lengua castellana, por prescio de mill -e trescientos e treynta e seys reales y en la escriptura que de ello me otorgó se dió -por contento y pagado de todos los dichos maravedís e confesó haberlos rescebido -de mi realmente y con efecto, y porque en realidad de verdad, no obstante lo -contenido en la dicha escriptura, yo le resto debiendo ducientos e cinquenta reales -y por la dicha razón me obligo de se los dar e pagar a él o a quien su poder -hubiere para en fin del mes de Setiembre primero que verná deste presente año de -ochenta e quatro, llanamente en reales de contado, sin pleito ni litigio alguno, so -pena del doblo e costas, para lo qual obligo mi persona e bienes habidos e por -haber e por esta carta doy poder cumplido a todas e qualesquier justicias e juezes -de Su Magestad real de qualesquier partes que sean, al fuero e jurisdicion de las -quales e de cada una de ellas me someto, e renuncio mi propio fuero, jurisdicion e -domicilio y la ley <em>Si convenerit de jurisdictione omnium judicum</em> para que -por todo rigor de derecho e via executiva me compelan e apremien a lo ansi -cumplir e pagar con costas como si sentencia difinitiva fuese dada contra mi e -por mi consentida e pasada en cosa juzgada, e renuncio todas e qualesquier leyes -que en mi favor sean y la ley e derecho en que dice que general renunciacion -fecha de leyes non vala, en firmeza de lo qual otorgué esta carta de obligacion en -la manera que dicha es ante el presente escribano e testigos deyuso escriptos. -Que fué fecha e otorgada en la villa de Madrid a catorze días del mes de Junio -de mill e quinientos e ochenta e quatro años, siendo testigos Andrés de Obregón e -Juan Aguado e Baltasar Pérez, vecinos de esta villa, y el otorgante, que doy fee -conozco, lo firmó de su nombre en el registro.—Blas de Robles.—Pasó ante mi -Francisco Martínez, escribano.—Sin derechos."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_28" href="#FNanchor_28" class="label">[28]</a> It may be as well to say that my conjecture (p. xiii) was made, and that the -draft of this Introduction was written, before the publication of Dr. Pérez Pastor's -second volume.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_29" href="#FNanchor_29" class="label">[29]</a> See Navarrete, <em>op. cit.</em>, pp. 312-313: "Señor.—Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra -dice, que ha servido á V. M. muchos años en las jornadas de mar y tierra que se -han ofrecido de veinte y dos años á esta parte, particularmente en la batalla naval, -donde le dieron muchas heridas, de las cuales perdió una mano de un arcabuzazo, y -el año siguiente fué á Navarino, y después á la de Túnez y á la Goleta, y viniendo -á esta corte con cartas del Sr. D. Joan y del duque de Sesa para que V. M. -le hiciese merced, fué captivo en la galera del Sol, él y un hermano suyo, que -también ha servido á V. M. en las mismas jornadas, y fueron llevados á Argel, -donde gastaron el patrimonio que tenian en rescatarse, y toda la hacienda de sus -padres y los dotes de dos hermanas doncellas que tenía, las cuales quedaron pobres -por rescatar á sus hermanos, y después de libertados fueron á servir á V. M. en el -reino de Portugal y á las Terceras con el marques de Santa Cruz, y agora al -presente están sirviendo y sirven á V. M., el uno dellos en Flandes de alferez, y el -Miguel de Cervantes fué el que trajo las cartas y avisos del alcaide de Mostagan, -y fué á Oran por orden de V. M., y después ha asistido sirviendo en Sevilla -en negocios de la armada por orden de Antonio de Guevara, como consta por -las informaciones que tiene, y en todo este tiempo no se le ha hecho merced -ninguna."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_30" href="#FNanchor_30" class="label">[30]</a> See Cristóbal Mosquera de Figueroa's <cite>Comentario en breve compendio de -disciplina militar, en que se escriue la jornada de las islas de los Açores</cite> -(Madrid, 1596), f. 58. -</p> -<p> -Dr. Pérez Pastor sums up the case concisely in the <cite>Prólogo</cite> to his <cite>Documentos -Cervantinos</cite> (Madrid, 1897), vol. i., pp. xi.-xii.; "Casi todos los biógrafos de -Cervantes han sostenido que éste asistió á la jornada de la Tercera, fundándose en -que así lo indica en el pedimento de la Información del año 1590; pero si tenemos -en cuenta que en dicho documento van englobados los servicios de Miguel y -Rodrigo de Cervantes, y por ende que es fácil atribuir al uno los hechos del otro -hermano, que Miguel estaba en Tomar por Mayo de 1581, en Cartagena á fines -de Junio de este año, ocupado en cosas del servicio de S. M., y en Madrid por el -otoño de 1583, que el Marqués de Santa Cruz, después de haber reducido la Tercera -y otras islas, entró en Cádiz el 15 de Septiembre del dicho año, se hace casi -imposible que Miguel de Cervantes pudiera asistir á dicha jornada."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_31" href="#FNanchor_31" class="label">[31]</a> <em>Ibid.</em>, p. 89. "Madrid, 10 Septiembre, 1585. En la villa de Madrid, a diez -días del mes de septiembre de mill y quinientos y ochenta y cinco años, en -presencia de mi el presente y testigos de yuso escriptos parescieron presentes -Rodrigo de Zervantes y doña Magdalena de Zervantes, hermanos, residentes en -esta corte, e dixeron que por quanto habrá dos años, poco más o menos tiempo, -Miguel de Zerbantes, su hermano, por orden de la dicha doña Magdalena empeñó -al señor Napoleon Lomelin cinco paños de tafetan amarillos y colorados para -aderezo de una sala, que tienen setenta y quatro varas y tres quartas, por treinta -ducados, y que hasta agora han estado en el empeño, y la dicha doña Magdalena -hizo pedimento ante el señor alcalde Pedro Bravo de Sotomayor en que pidió se le -entregasen pagado el dicho empeño, y después de haber puesto y fecho el dicho -pedimento se han concordado en esta manera.... Testigos que fueron presentes -a lo que dicho es, Juan Vázquez del Pulgar y Juste de Oliva, sastre, los quales -juraron a Dios en forma debida de derecho conocer a los dichos otorgantes y que se -llaman e nombran como de suso dize sin cautela, y Marcos Diaz del Valle, estantes en -Madrid, y los dichos otorgantes lo firmaron de sus nombres.—Rodrigo de Cerbantes.—Doña -Magdalena de Cerbantes—Pasó ante mi Baltasar de Ugena. Derechos -real e medio."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_32" href="#FNanchor_32" class="label">[32]</a> Curiously enough, there is some dispute as to whether Cervantes's great rival, -Lope de Vega, did or did not take part in an expedition to the Azores. Lope's -assertion in his <cite>Epístola</cite> to Luis de Haro is explicit enough. If any doubt on the -subject has arisen, this is mainly due to Lope's vanity in under-stating his age.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_33" href="#FNanchor_33" class="label">[33]</a> See the <cite>Letter Dedicatory</cite> in Gálvez de Montalvo's <cite>Pastor de Fílida</cite> -addressed to Don Enrique de Mendoza y Aragón. Gálvez de Montalvo rejoices in -his good fortune without any false shame: "Entre los venturosos, que a U. S. -conocen, i tratan, he sido yo uno, i estimo que de los más, porque deseando servir -a U. S. se cumplio mi deseo, i assi degè mi casa, i otras mui señaladas, dò fué -rogado que viviesse, i vine a èsta, donde holgaré de morir, i donde mi mayor -trabajo es estar ocioso, contento, i honrado como criado de U. S."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_34" href="#FNanchor_34" class="label">[34]</a> See the suggestive observations of that admirable scholar, Madame Carolina -Michaëlis de Vasconcellos in Gustav Gröber's <cite>Grundriss der romanischen -Philologie</cite> (Strassburg, 1897), II Band, 2 Abteilung, p. 216, <em>n.</em> 2. "Schon an -den Namen <cite>Amadís</cite> knupft sich so manche Frage. Ist er eine willkurliche, auf -der Halbinsel entstandene Abänderung aus dem frz. <cite>Amadas</cite> (engl. <cite>Amadace</cite>) -latinisirt zu <cite>Amadasius</cite>? d. h. eine wohlklingendere Analogiebildung zu dem -portug. Namen <cite>Dinís</cite>? also <cite>Amad-ysius</cite>? Man vergleiche einerseits: <cite>Belis -Fiis Leonis Luis Belianis Belleris; Assiz Aviz; Moniz Maris</cite> etc., und -andererseits das alte Adj. <cite>amadioso</cite>, heute <em>(a)mavioso</em>. Oder gab es eine frz. -Form in <em>-is</em>, wie die bereits 1292 vorkommende ital. (<cite>Amadigi</cite>) wahrscheinlich -machen würde, falls sie erwiesen echt wäre (s. <em>Rom.</em> xvii., 185)?..."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_35" href="#FNanchor_35" class="label">[35]</a> See a very interesting note in <cite>Il Cortegiano del Conte Baldesar Castiglione -annotato e illustrato da Vittorio Cian</cite> (Firenze, 1894), p. 327. Commenting -on Castiglione's allusion to <cite>Amadís</cite>—"pero bisogneria mandargli all'Isola -Ferma" (lib. iii., cap. liv.)—Professor Cian notes the rapid diffusion of <cite>Amadís -de Gaula</cite> in Italy: "Ma i' <cite>Amadís</cite> era conosciuto assai prima frai noi, ed è -notevole a questo proposito una lettera scritta in Roma da P. Bembo, il 4 febbraio -1512, al Ramusio, nella quale parlando del Valerio (Valier), loro amico, e amico -del nostro C. e dell' Ariosto e dei Gonzaga di Mantova, il poeta veneziano ci porge -questa notizia: 'Ben si pare che il Valerio sia sepolto in quel suo Amadagi....' -(pubbl. da me nel cit. <cite>Decennio delta vita del Bembo</cite>, p. 206)."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_36" href="#FNanchor_36" class="label">[36]</a> See vol. xl. of Manuel Rivadeneyra <cite>Biblioteca de autores españoles</cite> entitled -<cite>Libros de caballerías con un discurso preliminar y un catalógo razonado por -Don Pascual de Gayangos</cite> (Madrid, 1857), pp. xxxi. et seqq.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_37" href="#FNanchor_37" class="label">[37]</a> The Portuguese case is well stated by Theophilo Braga in his <cite>Historia das -novelas portuguezas de cavalleria</cite> (Porto, 1873), in his <cite>Questões de litteratura -e arte portugueza</cite> (Lisboa, 1881), and in his <cite>Curso de historia de litteratura -portugueza</cite> (Lisboa, 1885). It is most forcibly summarized by Madame -Michaëlis de Vasconcellos (<em>op. cit.</em>, pp. 216-226) who cites, as partisans of the -Portuguese claim, Warton, Bouterwek, Southey, Sismondi, Clemencín, Ticknor, -Wolf, Lemcke, and Puymaigre. To these names might be added those of the -two eminent masters, M. Gaston Paris and Sr. D. Marcelino Menéndez y Pelayo.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_38" href="#FNanchor_38" class="label">[38]</a> See <em>La Littérature française au moyen âge <small>XI</small><sup>e</sup>-<small>XIV</small><sup>e</sup> siècle par -Gaston Paris, Membre de l'Institut</em>. Deuxième édition revue, corrigée, augmentée -et accompagnée d'un tableau chronologique. (Paris, 1890). Referring to -the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">romans bretons</i>, M. Gaston Paris writes (p. 104): "Le Perceforest français -au <small>XIV</small><sup>e</sup> siècle, <cite>l'Amadís</cite> portugais puis espagnol aux <small>XV</small><sup>e</sup> et <small>XVI</small><sup>e</sup> siècles -sont des imitations de ces grands romans en prose."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_39" href="#FNanchor_39" class="label">[39]</a> Chiefly by Gayangos in the <cite>Discurso preliminar</cite> to Rivadeneyra, vol. xl.; -by José Amador de los Ríos in his <cite>Historia crítica de la literatura española</cite> -(1861-65), vol. v., pp. 78-97; by Eugène Baret in <cite>De l'Amadis de Gaule</cite> -(second edition, Paris, 1871); by Ludwig Braunfels in his <cite>Kritischer Versuch -über den Roman Amadis von Gallien</cite> (Leipzig, 1876); and by Professor -Gottfried Baist in the above-mentioned section of the <cite>Grundriss der romanischen -Philologie</cite>, pp. 440-442.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_40" href="#FNanchor_40" class="label">[40]</a> See the <cite>Arcadia di Jacobo Sannazaro secondo i manoscritti e le prime -stampe con note ed introduzione di Michele Scherillo</cite> (Torino, 1888).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_41" href="#FNanchor_41" class="label">[41]</a> <em>Ibid.</em>, pp. cclxi.-cccxliv.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_42" href="#FNanchor_42" class="label">[42]</a> Compare, for example, Garcilaso's lines:— -</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Tengo vna parte aqui de tus cabellos,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Elissa, embueltos en vn blanco paño;</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Que nunca de mi seno se me apartan.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Descojolos, y de vn dolor tamaño</div> -<div class="verse">Enternecer me siento, que sobre 'llos</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Nunca mis ojos de llorar se hartan,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Sin que de allí se partan:</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Con sospiros calientes,</div> -<div class="verse">Mas que la llama ardientes:</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Los enxugo del llanto, y de consuno</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Casi los passo y cuento vno a vno,</div> -<div class="verse">Iuntandolos con vn cordon los ato,</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Tras esto el importuno</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Dolor, me dexa descansar vn rato.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">with the lines sung by Meliseo at the end of Sannazaro's twelfth <em>egloga</em>:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">I tuoi capelli, o Phylli, in una cistula</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Serbati tegno, et spesso, quand' io volgoli,</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Il cor mi passa una pungente aristula.</div> -<div class="verse">Spesso gli lego et spesso oimè disciolgoli,</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Et lascio sopra lor quest' occhi piovere;</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Poi con sospir gli asciugo e inseme accolgoli.</div> -<div class="verse">Basse son queste rime, exili et povere;</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Ma se'l pianger in Cielo ha qualche merito,</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Dovrebbe tanta fe' Morte commovere.</div> -<div class="verse">Io piango, o Phylli, il tuo spietato interito,</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">E'l mondo del mio mal tutto rinverdesi.</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Deh pensa, prego, al bel viver preterito,</div> -<div class="verse">Se nel passar di Lethe amor non perdesi.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p> -An exhaustive study on Garcilaso's debts to Italy is given by Professor -Francesco Flamini—<cite>Imitazioni italiane in Garcilaso de la Vega</cite>—in <cite>La -Biblioteca delle scuole italiane</cite> (Milano, June 1899).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_43" href="#FNanchor_43" class="label">[43]</a> See George Ticknor's <cite>History of Spanish Literature</cite> (Sixth edition, Boston, -1888), vol. iii., p. 94. Ticknor, however, failed to notice that the date in his -copy was a forgery: see Mr. J. L. Whitney's <cite>Catalogue</cite> (Boston, 1879), p. 234, -and compare Salvá y Mallen, <em>op. cit.</em>, vol. ii., p. 168.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_44" href="#FNanchor_44" class="label">[44]</a> Scherillo, <em>op. cit.</em>, p. ccxlvii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_45" href="#FNanchor_45" class="label">[45]</a> The proof of this has been supplied independently by the late John Ormsby -(see vol. iii. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1901), p. 51, <em>n.</em> i.); by Professor -Hugo Albert Rennert (see <cite>The Spanish Pastoral Romances</cite> (Baltimore, 1892), -p. 9); and by myself (see the <cite>Revue hispanique</cite> (Paris, 1895), vol. ii., pp. -304-311). All three appear to have been anticipated in the excellent monograph -entitled <cite>Jorge de Montemayor, sein Leben und sein Schäferroman die</cite> -"<cite>Siete Libros de la Diana</cite>" <i lang="de" xml:lang="de">nebst einer Übersicht der Ausgaben dieser -Dichtung und bibliographischen Anmerkungen herausgegeben von Georg -Schönherr</i> (Halle, 1886), p. 83. -</p> -<p> -The decisive point is that Ticknor's copy, the oldest known edition, must be at -least as late as 1554, for Montemôr here refers to the Infanta Juana as a widow: -see (lib. iv.) the fifth stanza of the <cite>Canto de Orfeo</cite>. Her husband, Dom João, -died on January 2, 1554. A duplicate of the Ticknor volume is in the British -Museum library.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_46" href="#FNanchor_46" class="label">[46]</a> See the preface to Fray Bartholomé Ponce's <cite>Primera Parte de la Clara -Diana á lo divino, repartida en siete libros</cite> (Zaragoza, 1582): "El año mil -quinientos cincuenta y nueue, estando yo en la corte del Rey don Philipe segundo -deste nombre ... vi y ley la Diana de Jorge de Mõtemayor, la qual era tan accepta -quanto yo jamas otro libro en Romance aya visto: entonces tuue entrañable -desseo de conocer a su autor, lo qual se me cumplio tan a mi gusto, que dentro -de diez días se offrecio tener nos combidados a los dos, vn canallero muy Illustre, -aficionado en todo estremo al verso y poesia."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_47" href="#FNanchor_47" class="label">[47]</a> For Ribeiro, see Madame Michaëlis de Vasconcellos, <em>op. cit.</em>, pp. 291-295. -Ribeiro's work seems to have been printed posthumously, the earliest known -edition being issued at Ferrara in 1554. But, as Madame Michaëlis de -Vasconcellos observes (p. 295, <em>n.</em> 8): "Dass lange vor dem ital. Drucke Ribeiro's -wie Falcao's Werke grossen Ruf hatten, steht ausser Zweifel. Sie müssen in -Handschriften oder Flugblättern unter den Lesenden Kurs gehabt haben." It is, -perhaps, not superfluous to mention that Ribeiro's <cite>Menina e moça</cite>, like Virgil's -<cite>Formosum Corydon ardebat Alexim</cite>, takes its title from the opening words.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_48" href="#FNanchor_48" class="label">[48]</a> See Schönherr, <em>op. cit.</em>, p. 26. "Was das genauere Datum des Todes Montemayor's -betrifft, so wird hierfür im Vorwort der <cite>Diana</cite> ed. 1622 der 26. Februar -des Jahres 1561 angegeben, und zwar war es des Dichters Freund Alonso Pérez, -der es der Nachwelt überlieferte, wiewohl es sich in dessen erster, 1564 erschienener -Ausgabe der <cite>Segunda Parte de la Diana</cite> noch nicht findet. Die -Richtigkeit seiner Angabe lässt sich einigermassen prufen, nicht mit Hülfe der -Elegie des Dorantes, die Salvá's Vermutung (No. 1909) entgegen der Ausgabe vom -Jahre 1561 noch nicht angehängt ist, wol aber in Hinblick auf des oben stehende -Sonett Pagan's, welches bereits in dessen 1562 erschienener <cite>Floresta de varia -poesía</cite> enthalten ist, so dass man hiernach keine Ursache hat, der Datierung des -Pérez zu misstrauen." -</p> -<p> -The sonnet mentioned by Schönherr, and reprinted by Salvá y Mallen, occurs -on <em>f</em> of Diego Ramírez Pagán's <cite>Floresta de varia poesía</cite> (1562): -</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Nuestro Monte mayor, do fué nascido?</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">En la ciudad del hijo de Laerte.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Y que parte en la humana instable suerte?</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Cortesano, discreto, y entendido.</div> -<div class="verse">Su trato como fué, y de que ha biuido?</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Siruiendo, y no acerto, ni ay quien acierte.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Quien tan presto le dió tan cruda muerte?</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Imbidia, y Marte, y Venus lo ha mouido.</div> -<div class="verse">Sus huessos donde están? En Piamonte.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Porque? Por no los dar a patria ingrata.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Que le deue su patria? Inmortal nombre.</div> -<div class="verse">De que? Larga vena, dulce, y grata.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Y en pago que le dan? Talar el monte.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Y haura quien le cultiue? No ay tal hõbre.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>The British Museum Library contains a copy of Ramírez Pagán's <cite>Floresta</cite>: a -book esteemed by Gallardo, Gayangos, and Salvá (<em>op. cit.</em>, vol. i., p. 153, -no. 339) as "uno de los más raros que existen en la literatura poética española."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_49" href="#FNanchor_49" class="label">[49]</a> See the prologue to Pérez' continuation (A 5 of the Antwerp edition, 1580) -" ... casi en toda esta obra no ay narracion, ni platica, no solo en verso, más -aun en prosa, que à pedaços de la flor de Latinos y Italianos hurtado, y imitado -no sea; y no pienso por ello ser digno de reprehension, pues lo mesmo de los -Griegos hizieron."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_50" href="#FNanchor_50" class="label">[50]</a> The whole history, bibliographical and literary, of the pastoral movement in -Spain may be studied in the searching and learned monograph of Professor Hugo -Albert Rennert, <cite>The Spanish Pastoral Romances</cite> (Baltimore, 1892). A minute -examination of Texeda's plagiary, which escaped detection by Ticknor, will be -found on pp. 39-42 of Professor Rennert's work.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_51" href="#FNanchor_51" class="label">[51]</a> The reference is, no doubt, to the passage in the fifth book of Montemôr's -<cite>Diana</cite>: "Y tomando el vaso que tenía en la mano izquierda le puso en la suya á -Sireno, y mando que lo bebiese, y Sireno lo hizo luego; y Selvagia y Silvano -bebieron ambos el otro, y en este punto cayeron todos tres en el suelo adormidos, -de que no poco se espantó Felismena y la hermosa Belisa que allí estaba...." -Cp. Sannazaro's <cite>Arcadia</cite> (<cite>Prosa nona</cite>, Scherillo's edition, p. 171): "Al quale -subgiunse una lodula, dicendo, in una terra di Grecia (dela quale yo ora non so il -nome) essere il fonte di Cupidine, del quale chiunche beve, depone subitamente -ognie suo amore."</p> - -<p>The expedient of the magic water, to which Cervantes refers once more in the -<cite>Coloquio de los Perros</cite> (see vol. viii. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1902), -p. 163), seems to be as old as most things in literature. Scherillo, in his valuable -commentary to the <cite>Arcadia</cite> cites a parallel from Pliny, <cite>Naturalis Historia</cite>, -lib. xxxi., cap. 16: "Cyzici fons Cupidinis vocatur, ex quo potantes amorem -deponere Mucianus credit."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_52" href="#FNanchor_52" class="label">[52]</a> It is just possible, however, that Cervantes may have omitted the <cite>Habidas</cite> -deliberately; for though Ticknor (<em>op. cit.</em>, vol. iii., p. 99, <em>n.</em> 18), on the authority -of Gayangos, quotes the book as "among the earliest imitations of the Diana," so -excellent a scholar as Professor Rennert (<em>op. cit.</em>, p. 111) inclines to think "that -it is rather a 'Novela Caballeresca.'"</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_53" href="#FNanchor_53" class="label">[53]</a> This seems to follow from the references in the <cite>Viaje del Parnaso</cite>: -</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">El fiero general de la atrevida</div> -<div class="verse">Gente, que trae un cuervo en su estandarte,</div> -<div class="verse">Es A<small>RBOLANCHES</small>, muso por la vida (cap. vii., ter. 81).</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>And</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">En esto, del tamaño de un breviario</div> -<div class="verse">Volando un libro por el aire vino.</div> -<div class="verse">De prosa y verso que arrojó el contrario.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">De verso y prosa el puro desatino</div> -<div class="verse">Nos dió á entender que de A<small>RBOLANCHES</small> eran</div> -<div class="verse"><cite>Las Avidas</cite> pesadas de contino (cap. vii., ter. 60-61).</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>These sallies have brought down on Cervantes the displeasure of implacable bibliographers. -Salvá y Mallen (<em>op. cit.</em>, vol. ii., pp. 19-20, no. 1518) drily observes -that, as the book is almost wholly in verse, it does not at all correspond to Cervantes's -description of it, and he gives us to understand (what most readers have -realised for themselves) that, in criticism of his contemporaries, Cervantes—like -the rest of the world—is prone to err.</p> - -<p>See also <cite>Cervantes vascófilo ó sea Cervantes vindicado de su supuesto -antivizcainismo por Julián Apráiz y Sáenz del Burgo, Natural de -Vitoria y vizcaino, alavés y guipuzcoano por todos sus abolengos</cite>. Nueva -edición considerablemente aumentada (Vitoria, 1895), pp. 270-274. In a note -(p. 274) to his letter addressed (April 23, 1884), to Sr. D. José Colá y -Goiti, Dr. Apráiz—who courageously sets himself to prove that Cervantes, so -far from disliking the Basques as has been generally supposed, had in fact the -highest opinion of them—points out that <cite>Los nueve libros de las Habidas</cite> -take no more space than a 16mo. volume. "Y una vez leída la obra del -poeta navarro insisto, tanto en que no hay más prosa que brevísimos renglones del -argumento de la obra, como acerca del mérito que le reconocen Rosell, Gayangos -y Vedia, y Gallardo, mucho más habida cuenta de la temprana edad de 20 años -que tenía el poeta al escribir su poema, según el mismo dice al dirigirse á la -señora (<em>i.e.</em> Doña Adriana de Egues y de Biamonte), á quien lo dedica. Parece -que había muerto 3 años antes de la publicación de su poema." -</p> -<p> -If Arbolanche (or Arbolanches) really died in 1563, it is almost impossible that -Cervantes can have had—as has been insinuated—any personal grudge against -him. Perhaps he had read the <cite>Habidas</cite> when he was a lad, was bored, and in his -old age exaggerated his impression, without remembering very clearly the contents -of the book. Or, it may be, as Dr. Apráiz suggests (<em>op. cit.</em>, pp. 273-274), -that Cervantes mistook Arbolanche (or Arbolanches) for the author of some dull -pastoral whose name escaped him. If this be so, it is exceedingly regrettable -that he should twice have made the same blunder: for the consequence has been -that the name of Arbolanche (or Arbolanches), a poet of distinct merit, has -become—among those who have not read him and who follow Cervantes blindly—a -synonym for a ridiculous prose writer. Cp. the lines in the celebrated <cite>Sátira -contra los malos escritores de su tiempo</cite> by Jorge Pitillas (<em>i.e.</em> José Gerardo de -Hervás y Cobo de la Torre):—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">De Arbolanches descubre el genio tonto,</div> -<div class="verse">Nombra á Pedrosa novelero infando</div> -<div class="verse">Y en criticar á entrambos está pronto.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - - - </div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_54" href="#FNanchor_54" class="label">[54]</a> See cap. iii., ter. 81-89. -</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">Miren si puede en la galera hallarse</div> -<div class="verse">Algún poeta desdichado acaso,</div> -<div class="verse">Que á las fieras gargantas puede darse.—</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Buscáronle, y hallaron á L<small>OFRASO</small>,</div> -<div class="verse">Poeta militar, sardo, que estaba</div> -<div class="verse">Desmayado á un rincón marchito y laso:</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Que á sus <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">diez libros de Fortuna</i> andaba</div> -<div class="verse">Añadiendo otros diez, y el tiempo escoge,</div> -<div class="verse">Que más desocupado se mostraba.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Gritó la chusma toda: Al mar se arroje,</div> -<div class="verse">Vaya L<small>OFRASO</small> al mar sin resistencia.</div> -<div class="verse">—Por Dios, dijo Mercurio, que me enoje.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">¿Cómo? ¿y no será cargo de conciencia,</div> -<div class="verse">Y grande, echar al mar tanta poesía,</div> -<div class="verse">Puesto que aquí nos hunda su inclemencia?</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Viva <cite>Lofraso</cite>, en tanto que dé al día</div> -<div class="verse">Apolo luz, y en tanto que los hombres</div> -<div class="verse">Tengan discreta alegre fantasía.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Tocante á tí, o <cite>Lofraso</cite>, los renombres,</div> -<div class="verse">Y epítetos de agudo y de sincero,</div> -<div class="verse">Y gusto que mi cómitre te nombres.—</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Esto dijo Mercurio al caballero,</div> -<div class="verse">El cual en la crujía en pie se puso</div> -<div class="verse">Con un rebenque despiadado y fiero.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Creo que de sus versos le compuso,</div> -<div class="verse">Y no sé cómo fué, que en un momento</div> -<div class="verse">Ó ya el cielo, ó <cite>Lofraso</cite> lo dispuso,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Salimos del estrecho á salvamento,</div> -<div class="verse">Sin arrojar al mar poeta alguno:</div> -<div class="verse">Tanto del sardo fué el merecimiento.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_55" href="#FNanchor_55" class="label">[55]</a> Salvá y Mallen (<em>op. cit.</em>, vol. ii., p. 143, no. 1817) states that the <cite>Pastor de -Fílida</cite> was reprinted at Lisbon in 1589. at Madrid in 1590, at Barcelona in 1613, -and at Valencia in 1792: and there may be other editions.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_56" href="#FNanchor_56" class="label">[56]</a> Sannazaro's <cite>Arcadia</cite> was translated into French by Jean Martin in 1644; -see Heinrich Koerting, <cite>Geschichte des französischen Romans im <small>XVII</small> -Jahrhundert</cite> (Oppeln und Leipzig, 1891), vol. i., p. 64. Montemôr's <cite>Diana</cite> -was translated into French by N. Colin in 1579. Nicolas de Montreux, who -used the anagram of Olenix du Mont-Sacré, published the first volume of <cite>Les -Bergeries de Juliette</cite> in the same year as the <cite>Galatea</cite> (1585).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_57" href="#FNanchor_57" class="label">[57]</a> Cp. an interesting passage in the <cite>Avant-propos</cite> to George Sand's <cite>François -le Champi</cite> (Paris, 1868), pp. 15-16: -</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>—"Oui, oui, le monde naïf! dit-il, le monde inconnu, fermé à notre art -moderne, et que nulle étude ne te fera exprimer à toi-même, paysan de nature, si -tu veux l'introduire dans le domaine de l'art civilisé, dans le commerce intellectuel -de la vie factice.</p> - -<p> —Hélas! répondis-je, je me suis beaucoup préoccupé de cela. J'ai vu et j'ai -senti par moi-même, avec tous les êtres civilisés, que la vie primitive était le rêve, -l'idéal de tous les hommes et de tous les temps. Depuis les bergers de Longus -jusqu'à ceux de Trianon, la vie pastorale est un Éden parfumé où les âmes tourmentées -et lassées du tumulte du monde ont essayé de se réfugier. L'art, ce -grand flatteur, ce chercheur complaisant de consolations pour les gens trop heureux, -a traversé une suite ininterrompue de <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">bergeries</i>. Et sous ce titre: <cite>Histoire des -bergeries</cite>, j'ai souvent désiré de faire un livre d'érudition et de critique où j'aurais -passé en revue tous ces différents rêves champêtres dont les hautes classes se sont -nourries avec passion. -</p> -<p> -J'aurais suivi dans leurs modifications toujours en rapport inverse de la dépravation -des mœurs, et se faisant pures et sentimentales d'autant plus que la société -était corrompue et impudente. Ce serait un traité d'art complet, car la musique, -la peinture, l'architecture, la littérature dans toutes ses formes: théâtre, poëme, -roman, églogue, chanson; les modes, les jardins, les costumes même, tout a subi -l'engouement du rêve pastoral. Tous ces types de l'âge d'or, ces bergères qui -sont des nymphes et puis des marquises, ces bergères de l'<cite>Astrée</cite> qui passent par -le Lignon de Florian, qui portent de poudre et du satin sous Louis XV., et -auxquels Sedaine commence, à la fin de la monarchie, à donner des sabots, sont -tous plus ou moins faux, et aujourd'hui ils nous paraissent niais et ridicules. -Nous en avons fini avec eux, nous n'en voyons plus guère que sous forme de fantômes -à l'opéra, et pourtant ils ont régné sur les cours et ont fait les délices des -rois qui leur empruntaient la houlette et la panetière."</p></div> - </div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_58" href="#FNanchor_58" class="label">[58]</a> See his <cite>Apologie for Poetrie</cite> (Arber's reprint, London, 1869), p. 63.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_59" href="#FNanchor_59" class="label">[59]</a> See vol. iii. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1901), p. 8.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_60" href="#FNanchor_60" class="label">[60]</a> See the discussion in book iv. of the <cite>Galatea</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_61" href="#FNanchor_61" class="label">[61]</a> These borrowings have been pointed out by Sr. D. Marcelino Menéndez y Pelayo -in his <cite>Historia de las ideas estéticas en España</cite> (Madrid, 1883-1891), tom. ii., -vol i., p. 108-109: " ... el sentido de esta controversia es enteramente -platónico, y derivado de León Hebreo, hasta en las palabras, de tal suerte, que -podríamos suprimirlas, á no ser por la reverencia debida á todas las que salieron -de la pluma de Cervantes, puesto que nada original se descubre en ellas, y aun la -forma no es por cierto tan opulenta y pródiga de luz, como la de <cite>El Cortesano</cite>." -</p> -<p> -Sr. D. Adolfo y San Martín, in his Castilian translation of my <cite>History of -Spanish Literature</cite> (Madrid, 1901) which he has enriched with many valuable -notes, observes (p. 325) that Cervantes, when writing the preface to the First -Part of <cite>Don Quixote</cite> in 1604, evidently did not know there were in existence at -least three Spanish renderings of the <cite>Dialoghi</cite>—one of them, published at -Madrid in 1590, being by the famous Inca, Garcilaso de la Vega. -</p> -<p> -For León Hebreo (or Judas Abarbanel) see Solomon Munk, <cite>Mélanges de -philosophie juive et arabe</cite> (Paris, 1857), pp. 522-528 and Dr. B. Zimmels, <cite>Leo -Hebraeus, ein jüdischer Philosoph der Renaissance; sein Leben, seine -Werke und seine Lehren</cite> (Breslau, 1886).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_62" href="#FNanchor_62" class="label">[62]</a> Yet the obvious resemblances between the <cite>Arcadia</cite> and the <cite>Galatea</cite> have -been unaccountably overlooked by Francesco Torraca in a monograph entitled -<cite>Gl'imitatori stranieri di Jacopo Sannazaro</cite> (Seconda edizione accresciuta, -Roma, 1882). "Non mi sembra, però, che la <cite>Galatea</cite> e l' <cite>Arcadia</cite> di Lope -contengano imitazioni dello scrittore napoletano." (p. 23).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_63" href="#FNanchor_63" class="label">[63]</a> See cap. iii., ter. 49-51.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_64" href="#FNanchor_64" class="label">[64]</a> See Scherillo, <em>op. cit.</em>, pp. ccliii.-cclx. for an interesting and striking -enumeration (which might, as the commentator says, be extended) of Cervantes's -debts to Sannazaro. It is quaint and significant to find that while Sannazaro in -his <cite>Prosa duodecima</cite> alludes apologetically, but with excellent reason, to <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">il mio -picciolo Sebetho</i>, Cervantes in his sixth book, with no reason of any sort, -introduces <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">las frescuras del apacible Sebeto</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_65" href="#FNanchor_65" class="label">[65]</a> Cervantes, as appears from a somewhat confused allusion early in the seventh -chapter of the First Book of <cite>Don Quixote</cite>, seems to have been one of the few -(besides the author) who enjoyed <cite>Carlos famoso</cite>. Zapata himself complained -with a comic ruefulness that his forty thousand lines were not widely appreciated, -and that he was out of pocket in consequence: "Yo pensé también que en haber -hecho la historia del Emperador Carlos V., nuestro señor, en verso, y dirigídola á -su pio y poderosísimo hijo, con tantas y tan verdaderas loas de ellos y nuestros -españoles, que había hecho algo. Costóme cuatrocientos mil maravedís la ímpresión, -y de ella no saqué sino saña y alongamiento de mi voluntad." Zapata, -however, consoles himself with thinking that he is in good company and closes -with a pious, confident moral: "De Homero se dice que en su vida no se -hizo de él caso, <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">et sua riderunt tempora Meonidem</i>. Del autor del famoso -libro poético de Amadís no se sabe haste hoy el nombre, honra de la nacion y -lengua española, que en ninguna lengua hay tal poesía ni tan loable.... De -manera que podemos decir todos el <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">sic vos non vobis</i> de Virgilio, por lo cual -todos de paso y como accesorio deben no poner su felicidad acá, donde no hay -ninguna, sino atender á aquello que Dios les ha prometido; que si plantaren la -viña de las buenas obras, gozarán perpétuamente del fruto de ella y otro no se la -vendimiará." See Zapata's <cite>Miscelánea</cite> in the <cite>Memorial histórico español</cite> -(Madrid, 1859), vol. xi., pp. 304-305. It is interesting to note that Zapata -hazards no guess as to the authorship of <cite>Amadís de Gaula</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_66" href="#FNanchor_66" class="label">[66]</a> <em>Op. cit.</em>, pp. 60-61, <em>n.</em> 76.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_67" href="#FNanchor_67" class="label">[67]</a> Sannazaro's latest and best editor, Signor Scherillo, is properly sceptical -(<em>op. cit.</em>, pp. clxxvi.-ccviii.) as to many current identifications of the personages -in the <cite>Arcadia</cite>. It seems certain that Barcinio is Chariteo of Barcelona, -and that Summontio is Pietro Summonto, the Neapolitan publisher of the book. -It is probable that Meliseo is Giovanni Pontani, and that Massilia is the author's -mother. It is possible that Sincero is Sannazaro. But, as Signor Scherillo drily -observes, it is not easy to follow those who think that Sannazaro was Ergasto, -Elpino, Clonico, Ophelia, and Eugenio—not "three gentlemen at once," but five. -Other writers hold that Ophelia is Chariteo; that Pontano is Ergasto, Opico and -Montano; that Eleuco is the Great Captain; and that Arcadia stands for France. -These and similar absurdities are treated as they deserve in Signor Scherillo's -masterly introduction.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_68" href="#FNanchor_68" class="label">[68]</a> The supposition that Tirsi, in the <cite>Pastor de Fílida</cite>, was intended to represent -Cervantes is noted by Navarrete (<em>op. cit.</em>, p. 278), and on the authority of -that biographer has been frequently repeated. It is right to say that Navarrete -simply mentions the identification in passing, and that he is careful to throw all -responsibility for it on Juan Antonio Mayáns who was the first to suggest the idea -in the introduction to his reprint of the <cite>Pastor de Fílida</cite> (Valencia, 1792), pp. -xxxvii, lxxvii, and lxxx. The theory has been disproved by Juan Antonio -Pellicer (<em>op. cit.</em>, p. cxxxiii.) -</p> -<p> -There can be no reasonable doubt that the Tirsi of the <cite>Pastor de Fílida</cite> is -Francisco de Figueroa. It is absolutely certain that the Tirsi of the <cite>Galatea</cite> is -Figueroa: for, in the Second Book, Cervantes places it beyond question by -ascribing to Tirsi two sonnets and a <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">canción</i> by Figueroa. Cp. <cite>Poesías de -Francisco de Figueroa, llamado el Divino</cite> (Madrid, 1804).</p> - - -<p class="indent2">(<em>a</em>)</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">¡Ay de quan ricas esperanzas vengo</div> -<div class="verse">Al deseo más pobre y encogido,</div> -<div class="verse">Que jamas encerró pecho herido</div> -<div class="verse">De llaga tan mortal, como yo tengo!</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Ya de mi fe, ya de mi amor tan luengo,</div> -<div class="verse">Que Fili sabe bien quan firme ha sido,</div> -<div class="verse">Ya del fiero dolor con que he vivido,</div> -<div class="verse">Y en quien la vida á mi pesar sostengo;</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Otro más dulce galardon no quiero,</div> -<div class="verse">Sino que Fili un poco alce los ojos</div> -<div class="verse">A ver lo que mi rostro le figura:</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Que si le mira, y su color primero</div> -<div class="verse">No muda, y aun quizá moja sus ojos,</div> -<div class="verse">Bien serán más que piedra helada y dura. (p. 17)</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="indent2">(<em>b</em>)</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">La amarillez y la flaqueza mia,</div> -<div class="verse">El comer poco y el dormir perdido,</div> -<div class="verse">La falta quasi entera del sentido</div> -<div class="verse">El débil paso, y la voz ronca y fría;</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">La vista incierta, y el más largo día</div> -<div class="verse">En suspiros y quejas repartido,</div> -<div class="verse">Alguno pensará que haya nacido</div> -<div class="verse">De la pasada trabajosa vía:</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Y sabe bien amor, que otro tormento</div> -<div class="verse">Me tiene tal; y otra razón más grave</div> -<div class="verse">Mi antigua gloria en tal dolor convierte:</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Amor solo lo sabe, y yo lo siento:</div> -<div class="verse">Si Fili lo supiese: ¡o mi suave</div> -<div class="verse">Tormento, o dolor dulce, o dulce muerte! (p. 15)</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="indent2">(<em>c</em>)</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">Sale la aurora de su fértil manto</div> -<div class="verse">Rosas suaves esparciendo y flores,</div> -<div class="verse">Pintando el cielo va de mil colores,</div> -<div class="verse">Y la tierra otro tanto,</div> -<div class="verse">Quando la dulce pastorcilla mía,</div> -<div class="verse">Lumbre y gloria del día,</div> -<div class="verse">No sin astucia y arte,</div> -<div class="verse">De su dichoso albergue alegre parte. (pp. 45-46).</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_69" href="#FNanchor_69" class="label">[69]</a> <em>Op. cit.</em>, p. 66.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_70" href="#FNanchor_70" class="label">[70]</a> Juan Antonio Mayáns declares (<em>op. cit.</em>, p. xxxvii) that Damon is Figueroa; -but, as previously stated (p. xxxi, <em>n.</em> 2), his mistake is shown by Pellicer.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_71" href="#FNanchor_71" class="label">[71]</a> This is not, however, the opinion of Eustaquio Fernández de Navarrete -(<em>op. cit.</em>, p. xxxii): "Puede sospecharse que la primer heroína de su novela no -fué doña Catalina Palacios de Salazar, con quien Cervantes casó á poco tiempo de -publicar su libro, sino que lo escribió en Portugal durante sus amores con una -dama de aquel país, á quien debió grandes obligaciones; y que después cuando -volvió a España, al trabar relaciones con doña Catalina, retocó la obra y la -acomodó al nuevo sugeto." This story of Cervantes's relations with an anonymous -Portuguese lady, supposed to be the mother of his illegitimate daughter, was -generally accepted till 1895. It was never anything more than a wild guess -and, thanks to Dr. Pérez Pastor, we now know that there is no truth in it. -</p> -<p> -On the other hand Sr. D. Ramón León Máinez, in his <cite>Vida de Miguel de -Cervantes Saavedra</cite> (Cádiz, 1876), pronounces very emphatically in favour of -the current identifications as regards the hero and the heroine: "En Elicio se ve -con mucha perfección la imagen de Cervantes. Galanteador, tímido, discreto, -delicado, sentidisimo, su amor es tan casto como los pensamientos de su alma. -Adora más que ama; venera más que pretende" (p. 69). "Ningún otro personaje -puede encubrir á Elicio sino Cervantes: ninguna otra señora puede -velarse bajo la figura de Galatea sino Doña Catalina de Palacios. Son los -retratos al natural de dos seres privilegiados, de dos personas ilustres, de dos -amantes que más ó menos encubiertamente se tributaban el homenaje de su -adoracion." (p. 71.) -</p> -<p> -It will be observed that Sr. D. Ramón León Máinez takes things very -seriously.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_72" href="#FNanchor_72" class="label">[72]</a> See p. 6 of the present volume.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_73" href="#FNanchor_73" class="label">[73]</a> See the <cite>Dorotea</cite>, Act 2, sc. 2: "¿Qué mayor riqueza para una mujer que -verse eternizada? Porque la hermosura se acaba, y nadie que la mire sin ella -cree que la tuvo; y los versos de la alabanza son eternos testigos que viven en su -nombre. La Diana de Montemayor fué una dama de Valencia de Don Juan, -junto á León, y Ezla, su rio, y ella serán eternos por su pluma. Así la Fílida de -Montalvo, y la Galatea de Cervantes, la Camila de Garcilaso, la Violante de -Camoes, la Silvia de Bernaldez, la Filis de Figueroa, la Leonor de Corte-Real -no eran damas imaginarias."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_74" href="#FNanchor_74" class="label">[74]</a> It is conjectured, for instance, that Lenio was intended for Pedro Liñán de -Riaza, and that Daranio was meant for Diego Durán. These are simple guesses.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_75" href="#FNanchor_75" class="label">[75]</a> I do not profess to have counted the number, which I give on the authority of -Carlos Barroso: see his letter to Sr. Ramón León Máinez, entitled <cite>Mais noticias -Cervanticas</cite>, in the <cite>Crónica de los Cervantistas</cite> (Cádiz, 1872), vol. i., pp. 166 -et seqq.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_76" href="#FNanchor_76" class="label">[76]</a> See <cite>L'Avthevr a la Bergere Astrée</cite> at the beginning of the First Part of -<cite>Astrée</cite>, I quote from vol. i. of the Paris edition of 1647.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_77" href="#FNanchor_77" class="label">[77]</a> This, however, may be an unintentional slip into realism. But it has all the -effect of humour, and may fairly be bracketed with a passage from the fourth -book of Sidney's <cite>Arcadia</cite>, quoted by Professor Rennert (<em>op. cit.</em>, p. 11, <em>n.</em> 29): -"O my dun-cow, I did think some evil was towards me ever since the last day -thou didst run away from me, and held up thy tail so pitifully."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_78" href="#FNanchor_78" class="label">[78]</a> See Francisco Martínez Marina's <cite>Ensayo histórico-crítico sobre el origen -y progresos de las lenguas: señaladamente del romance castellano</cite> in the -<cite>Memorias de la Real Academia de la Historia</cite> (Madrid, 1805), vol. iv., -pp. 61-62: "Los primeros que se señalaron, á mi parecer, en esos vicios, que es en -preferir su gusto é ingenio á las reglas del arte antigua, y en consultar más con su -imaginación que con los modelos del excelente lenguaje, y en pretender hacerse -únicos y singulares en su clase por la novedad de sus plumas, fueron, según yo -pienso, y permítaseme decir lo que ninguno ha dicho tan claramente hasta ahora, -los insignes Mariana y Cervantes. -</p> -<p> -¡Qué nuevo y extraño es el modo de hablar del primero. ¿En qué se parece al -de nuestros mejores escritores castellanos? ¡Quán afectado su estilo! ¡artificiosas -las arengas! ¡estudiados los períodos y aun las palabras, y hasta la colocacion de -ellas!... Pues ¡y Cervantes quanto ha latinizado! Véase la Galatea"....</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_79" href="#FNanchor_79" class="label">[79]</a> In the Second Book of the <cite>Galatea</cite>, Silveria is said to have green eyes, -Attentive readers will remember that Loaysa has green eyes in <cite>El Celoso -extremeño</cite>: see vol. viii. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1902), p. 24. Green -would seem to have been a favourite colour with Cervantes: see a paper entitled -<cite>Lo Verde</cite>, published by a writer who uses the pseudonym of Doctor Thebussem, -in <cite>La España moderna</cite> (Madrid, March, 1894), vol. lxiii., pp. 43-60.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_80" href="#FNanchor_80" class="label">[80]</a> See vol. viii. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1902), pp. 163-164.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_81" href="#FNanchor_81" class="label">[81]</a> See vol. iii. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1902), pp. 52-53.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_82" href="#FNanchor_82" class="label">[82]</a> See the last paragraph of the <cite>Galatea</cite>: "El fin deste amoroso cuento y -historia, con los sucessos de Galercio, Lenio y Gelasia: Arsindo y Maurisa; Grisaldo, -Artandro y Rosaura: Marsilio y Belisa, con otras cosas sucedidas á los pastores -hasta aquí nombrados, en la segunda parte desta historia se prometen. La qual, -si con apazibles voluntades esta primera viere rescebida, tendrá atrevimiento de -salir con brevedad a ser vista y juzgada de los ojos y entendimientos de las -gentes."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_83" href="#FNanchor_83" class="label"> -[83]</a> <em>Op. cit.</em>, vol. ii., p. 119.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_84" href="#FNanchor_84" class="label">[84]</a> Sr. Asensio y Toledo has suggested (<cite>Cervantes y sus obras</cite>, pp. 382-386) -that Cervantes's reference in <cite>Don Quixote</cite> to Bernardo González de -Bobadilla's <cite>Nimphas y Pastores de Henares</cite>, a pastoral published at Alcalá -in 1587, denotes some irritation against one whom he possibly regarded as a -poacher. What really happened was that, during the diverting and important -scrutiny of the Knight's library, the Barber came upon González de Bobadilla's -book, together with Bernardo de la Vega's <cite>Pastor de Iberia</cite> and Bartolomé -López de Enciso's <cite>Desengaño de los celos</cite>. The Priest directed the Barber to -"hand them over to the secular arm of the housekeeper, and ask me not why, or -we shall never have done." On the strength of this, some genial contemporaries -seem to have charged Cervantes with being jealous of these obscure writers. -Cp. the passage in the <cite>Viaje del Parnaso</cite>:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft6">Ni llamado, ni escogido</div> -<div class="verse">Fué el gran pastor de Iberia, el gran B<small>ERNARDO</small></div> -<div class="verse">Que <small>DE LA</small> V<small>EGA</small> tiene el apellido.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Fuiste envidioso, descuidado y tardo,</div> -<div class="verse">Y á las ninfas de Henares y pastores,</div> -<div class="verse">Como á enemigo les tiraste un dardo.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Y tienes tu poetas tan peores</div> -<div class="verse">Que estos en tu rebaño, que imagino</div> -<div class="verse">Que han de sudar si quieren ser mejores.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p0 center small1" style="padding-left: 5em;" >(cap. iv. ter. 169-171.)</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_85" href="#FNanchor_85" class="label">[85]</a> As Cervantes intended to dedicate the new <cite>Don Quixote</cite> (and, presumably, -the new <cite>Galatea</cite>) to the Conde de Lemos, he may very naturally have thought -that it would be out of place to mention either of these works in the dedication of -the <cite>Viaje del Parnaso</cite> to Rodrigo de Tapia. But the short address to the reader -gave him the opportunity which no one used more cleverly—when he had any -announcement to make. Moreover, he had another excellent opening when he -referred to the <cite>Galatea</cite> in the text of the <cite>Viaje del Parnaso</cite>: -</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">Yo corté con mi ingenio aquel vestido</div> -<div class="verse">Con que al mundo la hermosa Galatea</div> -<div class="verse">Salió para librarse del olvido. </div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p0 center small1" style="padding-left: 5em;" >(cap. iv. ter. 5.)</p> - </div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_86" href="#FNanchor_86" class="label">[86]</a> " ...luego yra el gran Persiles, y luego las semanas del jardín, y luego la -segunda parte de la Galatea, si tanta carga pueden lleuar mis ancianos ombros."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_87" href="#FNanchor_87" class="label">[87]</a> Lemos's liking for the <cite>Galatea</cite> is mentioned in the Letter Dedicatory to -<cite>Persiles y Sigismunda</cite>: "si a dicha, por buena ventura mía, que ya no sería -ventura, sino milagro, me diesse el cielo vida, las (<em>i.e.</em> Semanas del Jardín y -Bernardo) verá y con ellas fin de la Galatea, de quien se està aficionado Vuessa -Excelencia...."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_88" href="#FNanchor_88" class="label">[88]</a> See vol. iv. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1901), p. 8.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_89" href="#FNanchor_89" class="label">[89]</a> See note (2) above.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_90" href="#FNanchor_90" class="label">[90]</a> It may be convenient to point out that the <cite>Arcadia</cite> mentioned in the text is a -play published in the <cite>Trezena Parte de las Comedias de Lope de Vega Carpio</cite> -(Madrid, 1620) and should not be confounded with Lope's pastoral novel, the <cite>Arcadia</cite> -(Madrid, 1598). This warning will appear unnecessary to Spanish scholars. -But the bibliography of Lope's works is so vast and intricate that a slip may -easily be made. For example, Mr. Henry Edward Watts (<cite>Life of Miguel -de Cervantes</cite>, London, 1891, p. 144) at one time mistook Lope's <cite>Dorotea</cite> for -the <cite>Arcadia</cite>, assuming the former to be a pastoral novel. This very curious -error is corrected in the same writer's <cite>Miguel de Cervantes, his life & works</cite> -(London, 1895, p. 200, <em>n.</em>) with the remark that "if any blunder is excusable -in a writer it is that of not remembering the name of one of Lope's multitudinous -productions." In the same work we are assured (p. 111) that of all Lope's plays -"there are not half-a-dozen whose names are remembered to-day out of Spain; -nor one character, scene or line which any one not a member of the Spanish Royal -Academy cares to recall." If ignorance has really reached this point, the -caution given in the opening words of this note may be useful to the general -reader.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_91" href="#FNanchor_91" class="label">[91]</a> Sr. D. Ramón León Máinez, in an exuberant paragraph, sketches out (<em>op. cit.</em>, -p. 71) the continuation as he believes Cervantes to have conceived it: "Si más -tarde hubiera cumplido su promesa de estampar la segunda parte de aquella obra -bellísima, que indudablemente dejó escrita al morir, y fué una de las producciones -suyas inéditas que se perdieron; cuán deleitosa y dulcemente hubiera hablado en -ella de la prosecución de sus amores, de la fina correspondencia en lo sucesivo -para con él por parte de su idolatrada doncella, del allanamiento de dificultades, -del progreso de sus aspiraciones y de la realización de sus deseos! Allí nos -hubiera descrito con la perfección, dulzura y encanto que él sabíalo hacer, el -regocijo de su alma, la felicidad de su amada, el vencimiento de su contrario, los -esmeros y desvelos de los amigos, el beneplácito de sus deudos, y su bien logrado -casamiento con doncella tan ilustre, de tal hermosura y virtud adornada. El -relato de las bodas estaría hecho en la segunda parte de <cite>Galatea</cite> con encantadora -sencillez, y con amenidad incomparable, como trabajo al fin de mano tan maestra -y acreditada." -</p> -<p> -This prophecy tends to allay one's regret for the non-appearance of the -<cite>Galatea</cite>; but it is exceedingly possible that Sr. Máinez knows no more of -Cervantes's intentions than the rest of us.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_92" href="#FNanchor_92" class="label">[92]</a> For particulars, see Professor Rennert, <em>op. cit.</em>, pp. 64-119.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_93" href="#FNanchor_93" class="label">[93]</a> <cite>Vida de Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra</cite> (Cádiz, 1876): "<cite>La Galatea</cite> de -Cervantes á todas las producciones pastoriles sobrepuja en las dotes inventivas. -No mentemos esa innumerabilidad de composiciones que aparecieron antes y después -de 1584. Comparar con ellas la concepción de Cervantes, sería ofender la memoria -de este autor esclarecido" (p. 67). "<cite>La Galatea</cite> no sólo es una obra superior -entre todas las pastorales españolas, mirada en cuanto á la inventiva: es también -mejor que las que antes y después de su aparición se publicaron, considerada -bajo el punto de vista de la forma y de los méritos literarios" (p. 79). Cp. also -a passage on p. 65: "Tal vez ninguno de los idiomas modernos pueda ofrecer tan -preciadas concepciones como en este género presentan las letras castellanas." The -biographer notes the weak points of Montemôr's <cite>Diana</cite>, of Gil Polo's <cite>Diana -enamorada</cite>, of Lope de Vega's <cite>Arcadia</cite> (the novel, not the play), of Suárez de -Figueroa's <cite>Constante Amarilis</cite>, of Valbuena's <cite>Siglo de oro</cite>, and concludes -(p. 68): "el talento de Cervantes era tan grande, tan superior, tan de eximio y -delicado gusto, que supo evitar todos esos vicios, olvidarse de todos los defectos, -para imitar lo bueno, y ofrecer una obra, en lo posible, perfecta. Vense en ella -acción dramática, vitalidad, episodios interesantísimos, escenas amenas, gracia, -seducción, hermosura. El ánimo se solaza y dulcemente se regocija al presenciar -tal conjunto de preciosidades." -</p> -<p> -Sr. Máinez praises (p. 80), as a model of style, a passage in the First Book of the -<cite>Galatea</cite>, beginning: "En las riberas de Betis, caudalosísimo río que la gran -Vandalia enriquece, nació Lisandro (que éste es el nombre desdichado mío), y de -tan nobles padres, cual pluguiera al soberano Dios que en más baja fortuna fuera -engendrado." Scherillo points out, however (<em>op. cit.</em>, p. cclv), that this is -modelled upon the opening of Sincero's story in the <cite>Prosa settima</cite> of Sannazaro's -<cite>Arcadia</cite>: "Napoli (sicome ciaschuno molte volte può avere udito) è nela più -fructifera et dilectevole parte de Italia, al lito del mare posta, famosa et nobilissima -città.... In quella dunque nacqui io, ove non da oscuro sangue, ma -(se dirlo non mi si disconviene) secondo che per le più celebre parti di essa città -le insignie de' miey predecessori chiaramente dimostrano: da antichissima et -generosa prosapia disceso, era tra gli altri miei coetanei forse non il minimo -riputato."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_94" href="#FNanchor_94" class="label">[94]</a> See August Wilhelm von Schlegel's <cite>Sämmtliche Werke</cite> (Leipzig, 1846-1847), -vol. i., p. 339 for a sonnet on the <cite>Galatea</cite>:— -</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Wie blauer Himmel glänzt auf Thales Grüne</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Ein heller Strom fleusst lieblich auf und nieder</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Von Berg und Wald verdeckt, erscheint er wieder,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Und spiegelt klar der Landschaft bunte Bühne.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Wer ist die Blonde dort mit sitt'ger Miene?</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Wie tönen süss die Leid- und Liebes- Lieder!</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Mit ihren Heerden nah'n die Hirtenbrüder,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Und jeder zeigt, wie er der Holden diene.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">O Lust und Klang! o linde Aetherlüfte!</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Im zarten Sinn sinnreich beschneider Liebe</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">So Himmlisches, doch Kindlichem Verwandtes.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Fremd wären uns die feinsten Blumendüfte,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Wenn Galatea nicht sie uns beschreibe,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Die Göttliche des göttlichsten Cervantes.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p> -Friedrich von Schlegel is no less rapturous in prose. See his corybantics in the -periodical entitled <cite>Athenaeum</cite> (Berlin, 1799), vol. ii., pp. 325-326. After referring -to Cervantes as the author of <cite>Don Quixote</cite>, Schlegel continues: "der aber doch -auch noch andre ganz ehr-und achtbare Werke erfunden und gebildet hat, die -dereinst wohl ihre Stelle im Allerheiligsten der romantischen Kunst finden werden. -Ich meyne die liebliche und sinnreiche Galatea, wo das Spiel des menschlichen -Lebens sich mit beschneidner Kunst und leiser Symmetrie zu einem künstlich -schönen Gewebe ewiger Musik und zarter Sehnsucht ordnet, indem es flieht. Es -ist der Blüthekranz der Unschuld und der frühsten noch schücternen Jugend." -He repeated his enthusiastic appreciation in the following year (<cite>Athenaeum</cite>, -Berlin, 1800, vol. iii., p. 80): "Da Cervantes zuerst die Feder statt des Degens -ergriff, den er nicht mehr führen konnte, dichtete er die Galatea, eine wunderbar -grosse Composition von ewiger Musik der Fantasie und der Liebe, den zartesten -und lieblichsten aller Romane." ...</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_95" href="#FNanchor_95" class="label">[95]</a> See William H. Prescott, <cite>Biographical and Critical Miscellanies</cite> (London, -1845), p. 114.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_96" href="#FNanchor_96" class="label">[96]</a> See <cite>Miguel de Cervantes, his life & works</cite> by Henry Edward Watts. -(London, 1895), p. 88.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_97" href="#FNanchor_97" class="label">[97]</a> See vol. iii., p. xxvi, and vol. vii., p. xiv, <em>n.</em> 2 of the present edition -(Glasgow, 1901-1902). Cp. M. Alfred Morel-Fatio's interesting monograph, -<cite>Ambrosio de Salazar et l'étude de l'espagnol sous Louis XIII</cite>. (Paris and -Toulouse, 1901).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_98" href="#FNanchor_98" class="label">[98]</a> It may be interesting to read the address <cite>A los estudiosos y amadores de -las lenguas estrangeras</cite> at the beginning of his reprint: "Llevome la curiosidad -a España el año passado, y mouiome la misma estando allí, a que yo -buscasse libros de gusto y entretenimiento, y que fuessen de mayor prouecho, y -conformes a lo que es de mi profession, y también para poder contentar a otros -curiosos. Ya yo sabia de algunos que otras vezes auian sido traydos por acá, -pero como tuuiesse principalmente en mi memoria a este de la Galatea, libro -ciertamente digno (en su género) de ser acogido y leydo de los estudiosos de la -lengua que habla, tanto por su eloquente y claro estilo, como por la sutil -inuencion, y lindo entretenimiento, de entricadas auenturas y apazibles historias -que contiene. De más desto por ser del author que inuento y escriuio, aquel libro, -no sin razón, intitulado <cite>El ingenioso hidalgo don Quixote</cite>. Busquelo casi por -toda Castilla y aun por otras partes, sin poderle hallar, hasta que passando a -Portugal, y llegando a vna ciudad fuera de camino llamada Euora, tope con algunos -pocos exemplares: compre vno dellos, mas leyendole vi que la impression, que era -de Lisboa, tenía muchas erratas, no solo en los caracteres, pero aun faltauan -algunos versos y renglones de prosa enteros. Corregilo y remendelo, lo mejor que -supe; también lo he visto en la presente impression, para que saliesse vn poco -más limpio y correcto que antes. Ruego os pues lo recibays con tan buena -voluntad, como es la que tuue siempre de seruiros, hasta que y donde yo pueda. -C. Oudin."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_99" href="#FNanchor_99" class="label">[99]</a> The following statement occurs in <cite>Miguel de Cervantes, his life & works -by Henry Edward Watts</cite> (London, 1895), p. 179, <em>n.</em> 1: "This French -ambassador, called by the Spanish commentators the <cite>Duque de Umena</cite>, must -have been the Duc de Mayenne, who was sent by the Regent Anne of Austria, -to conclude the double marriage of the Prince of Asturias (afterwards Philip IV.) -with Isabelle de Bourbon, and of Louis XIII. of France with the Infanta Ana, -eldest daughter of Philip III." -</p> -<p> -The familiar formula—"must have been"—is out of place here. The -necessity does not exist. It seems unlikely that Márquez Torres can have met -the members of Mayenne's suite on February 25, 1615; for Mayenne's mission -ended two and a half years previously. Mayenne and his attachés left Madrid -on August 31, 1612: see Luis Cabrera de Córdoba, <cite>Relaciones de las cosas -sucedidas en la Córte de España, desde 1599 hasta 1614</cite> (Madrid, 1857), -p. 493, and François-Tommy Perrens, <cite>Les Mariages espagnols sous le règne -de Henri IV. et la régence de Marie de Médicis, 1602-1615</cite> (Paris, 1869), -pp. 403 and 416-417. "Umena" is, as everybody knows, the old Spanish form -of Mayenne's title; but no Spaniard ever dreamed of applying this title to the -ambassador of whom Márquez Torres speaks. As appears from a letter (dated -February 18, 1615) to "old Æsop Gondomar," the special envoy to whom -Márquez Torres refers was known as "Mr. de Silier": see Navarrete, <em>op. cit.</em>, -pp. 493-494. Mr. de Silier was the brother of Nicolas Brûlart, Marquis de -Sillery, Grand Chancellor of France from September, 1607, to May, 1616. The -special envoy figures in French history as the Commandeur Noel Brûlart de -Sillery: he and his suite reached Madrid on February 15, 1615 (Navarrete, <em>op. -cit.</em>, p. 493), and they left that city on March 19, 1615 (Perrens, <em>op. cit.</em>, -p. 519). One might have hoped that, as M. de Sillery founded the mission of -Sillery near Quebec, his name would be known to all educated Englishmen. His -death on September 26, 1640, is mentioned by his confessor, St. Vincent de Paul, -in a letter to M. Codoing, dated November 15, 1640. See <em>Lettres de S. Vincent -de Paul</em> (Paris, 1882), vol. i., p. 100. -</p> -<p> -I do not know who the above-mentioned "Regent Anne of Austria" is supposed -to be. The French Regent who sent Mayenne and Sillery to Spain was Marie de -Médicis, mother of Louis XIII. Her regency ended in 1615. In 1615 Anne of -Austria, sister of Philip IV., became the wife of Louis XIII. Her regency began -in 1643. It would almost seem as though the earlier French Queen-Regent had -been mistaken for her future Spanish daughter-in-law, or, as though the writer -were unaware of the fact that the "Regent Anne of Austria" and the "Infanta -Ana" were really one and the same person. But the whole passage indicates -great confusion of thought, as well as strange misunderstanding of Navarrete's -words and of the document printed by him. -</p> -<p> -An old anecdote, concerning Cervantes and a French Minister at the Spanish -Court, is inaccurately reproduced in <cite>Camoens: his Life and Lusiads. A -Commentary by Richard F. Burton</cite> (London, 1881), vol. i., p. 71: "Cervantes, -who had been excommunicated, whispered to M. de Boulay, French Ambassador, -Madrid, 'Had it not been for the Inquisition, I should have made my book much -more amusing.'" Sir Richard Burton evidently quoted from memory, and, as his -version is incorrect, it may be advisable to give the idle tale as it appeared -originally in <cite>Segraisiana ou Mélange d'histoire et de littérature. Recueilli -des Entretiens de Monsieur de Segrais de l'Académie Françoise</cite> (La Haye, -1722), p. 83: "Monsieur du Boulay avoit accompagné Monsieur * * * dans son -Ambassade d'Espagne dans le tems que Cervantes qui mourut en 1618 vivoit -encore: il m'a dit que Monsieur l'Ambassadeur fit un jour compliment à Cervantes -sur la grande réputation qu'il s'étoit acquise par son <cite>Dom Quixotte</cite>, au de-là -des monts: & que Cervantes dit à l'oreille à Monsieur l'Ambassadeur, sans -l'Inquisition j'aurois fait mon Livre beaucoup plus divertissant." -</p> -<p> -It will be observed that M. du Boulay was not Ambassador; that he does not -pretend to have heard Cervantes's remark; that he merely repeats the rumour of -what Cervantes was alleged to have whispered to M. * * * (who may, or may -not, be M. de Sillery); and that he does not mention the Ambassador as his -authority for the story. Moreover, Jean Regnauld de Segrais was born in 1624, -and died in 1701. Assuming that he was no more than thirty when he met M. -du Boulay, this would mean that the story was told nearly forty years after the -event. If the volume entitled <cite>Segraisiana</cite> was compiled towards the end of -Segrais' life, we are at a distance of some eighty years from the occurrence. In -either case, there is an ample margin for errors of every kind.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_100" href="#FNanchor_100" class="label">[100]</a> Gregorio Mayáns y Siscar suggests (<em>op. cit.</em>, vol. i., pp. 28-29) that the -<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Aprobación</i>, though signed by Márquez Torres, was really written by Cervantes -himself: "57 ... Pensarà el Letor que quien dijo èsto, fué el Licenciado -Màrquez Torres; no fué sino el mismo Miguèl de Cervantes Saavedra: porque el -estilo del Licenciado Màrquez Torres, es metaforico, afectadillo, i pedantesco; -como lo manifiestan los <cite>Discursos Consolatorios que escriviò a Don Christoval -de Sandoval i Rojas, Duque de Uceda en la Muerte de Don Bernardo de -Sandoval i Rojas, su hijo, primer Marquès de Belmonte</cite>; i al contrario el -estilo de la <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Aprovacion</i>, es puro, natural, i cortesano, i tan parecido en todo al -de Cervantes, que no ai cosa en él que le dístinga. El Licenciado Màrquez era -Capellán, i Maestro de Pages de Don Bernardo Sandoval i Rojas, Cardenal, -Arzobispo de Toledo, Inquisidor General; Cervantes era mui favorecido del -mismo. Con que ciertamente eran entrambos amigos. -</p> -<p> -"58. Supuesta la amistad, no era mucho, que usase Cervantes de semejante -libertad. Contèntese pues el Licenciado Màrquez Torres, con que Cervantes le -hizo partícipe de la gloria de su estilo. I veamos que moviò a Cervantes a querer -hablar, como dicen, por boca de ganso. No fué otro su designio, sino manifestar -la idea de su Obra, la estimacion de ella, i de su Autor en las Naciones estrañas, -i su desvalimiento en la propia." -</p> -<p> -Navarrete protests (<em>op. cit.</em>, pp. 491-493) against the theory put forward by -Mayáns, notes that Márquez Torres published his <cite>Discursos</cite> in 1626 when -<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">culteranismo</i> was in full vogue, and contends that he may have written in much -better style eleven years earlier. -</p> -<p> -It would be imprudent to give great importance to arguments based solely on -alleged differences of style. That Márquez Torres was in holy orders, and that -he was appointed chaplain to a prelate so virtuous and clear-sighted as the -Cardinal-Archbishop of Toledo are strong presumptions in his favour. Nothing -that is known of him tends to discredit his testimony. It would be most -unjustifiable to assume of any one in his responsible position that he was capable -of inventing an elaborate story from beginning to end, and of publishing a tissue -of falsehoods to the world. Nor can we lightly suppose that Cervantes would -lend himself to such trickery. The probability surely is that there is some -good foundation for the anecdote, though perhaps the tale may have lost nothing -in the telling. -</p> -<p> -Still, the history of literature furnishes analogous examples of persons who -tampered with preliminary matter—dedications and the like—and stuffed these -pages with praises of themselves. Le Sage evidently refers to a recent incident -in real life when he interpolates the following passage into the revised text of <cite>Le -Diable boiteux</cite> (Rouen, 1728), pp. 37-38: "A propos d'Epîtres Dédicatoires, -ajoûta le Démon, il faut que je vous raporte un trait assez singulier. Une femme -de la Cour aiant permis qu'on lui dédiât un ouvrage, en voulut voir la Dédicace -avant qu'on l'imprimât, & ne s'y trouvant pas assez bien loüée à son gré, elle prit -la peine d'en composer une de sa façon & de l'envoier à l'Auteur pour la mettre à -la tête de son ouvrage." -</p> -<p> -A somewhat similar instance is afforded by La Rochefoucauld, who asked -Madame de Sablé to review his <cite>Pensées</cite> in the <cite>Journal des Savants</cite>. The lady -thoughtfully submitted the manuscript of her article to the author, and the result -is recorded by Hippolyte Cocheris, <cite>Table méthodique et analytique des articles -du Journal des Savants depuis sa réorganisation en 1816 jusqu'en 1858 -inclusivement précédée d'une notice historique sur ce journal depuis sa -fondation jusqu'à nos jours</cite> (Paris, 1860), pp. vi.-vii. "Larochefoucauld prit -au mot Mme de Sablé; il usa très-librement de son article, il supprima les -critiques, garda les éloges, et le fit insérer dans le <cite>Journal des Savants</cite> (1665, -p. 116 et suiv.), ainsi amendé et pur de toute prétention à l'impartialité."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_101" href="#FNanchor_101" class="label">[101]</a> The full title of d'Urfé's book is <cite>L'Astrée, où par plusieurs histoires et sous -personnes de bergers et d'autres sont déduits les divers effects de l'Honneste -Amitié</cite>. The date of publication has long been doubtful; it is now, apparently, -established that the First Part, consisting of twelve books, was originally -issued in 1607. Only one copy of this edition is known to exist. For a -description of this unique volume, discovered by M. Edwin Trossat at Augsburg -in 1869, see the <cite>Catalogue des livres du baron James de Rothschild</cite> (Paris, -1887), vol. ii. p. 197, no. 1527. -</p> -<p> -D'Urfé had been preceded by Nicolas de Montreux who, under the anagrammatic -pseudonym of Olenix du Mont-Sacré, had published the five volumes -entitled <cite>Les Bergeries de Juliette</cite> at Paris between 1585 and 1598: see Heinrich -Koerting, <cite>Geschichte des französichen Romans im <small>XVII.</small> Jahrhundert</cite> -(Oppeln und Leipzig), vol. i., pp. 66-68. But, though Jean-Louis Guez de Balzac -declares (<cite>Œuvres complètes</cite>, Paris, 1665, vol. ii. p. 634) that <cite>Les Bergeries de -Juliette</cite> was long preferred to <cite>Astrée</cite> by French provincials during the seventeenth -century, Montreux found so little favour in Paris, that he abandoned -pastoralism, and took to writing a history of the Turks instead: see Émile Roy, -<cite>La Vie et les œuvres de Charles Sorel, sieur de Souvigny, 1602-1674</cite> (Paris, -1891), pp. 115-116. It was d'Urfé who made the pastoral fashionable. Part of -his immediate vogue may be attributed to the fact that his Euric, Galatée, -Alcidon and Daphnide were supposed to represent Henri IV., Marguerite de Valois, -the Duc de Bellegarde, and the Princesse de Conti. These dubious identifications, -however, would not explain the enthusiasm of readers so different in taste and -character, and so far apart in point of time, as St. François de Sales, Madame de -Sévigné, Prévost (the author of <cite>Manon Lescaut</cite>), and Rousseau. There is no -accounting for tastes, and perhaps Márquez Torres's polite Frenchman sincerely -admired the <cite>Galatea</cite>; but indeed he had left a far better pastoral at home. -<cite>Astrée</cite> greatly exceeds the <cite>Galatea</cite> in achievement, importance, and significance. -M. Paul Morillot is within the mark in saying: "<cite>L'Astrée</cite> de d'Urfé est vraiment -notre premier roman; elle est l'ancêtre, la source de tous les autres" (<cite>Le Roman -en France</cite>, p. 1). He perhaps grants too much by his admission (p. 27) that "de -nos jours <cite>L'Astrée</cite> est tout à fait oubliée." A useful <cite>Index de "L'Astrée"</cite> by -Saint-Marc Girardin proves that the book has had passionate admirers down to our -time: see the <cite>Revue d'Histoire littéraire de la France</cite> (Paris, 1898), vol. v., -pp. 458-483 and 629-646. The <em>Index</em> has an interesting prefatory note by M. -Paul Bonnefon.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_102" href="#FNanchor_102" class="label">[102]</a> Besides (1) the <em>princeps</em>, published at Alcalá de Henares by Juan Gracián in -1585 there are the following editions of the <cite>Galatea</cite>: (2) Lixboa, Impressa con -licencia de la Sancta Inquisición, 1590; (3) Paris, Gilles Robinot, 1611; (4) -Valladolid, Francisco Fernández de Cordona, 1617; (5) Baeza, Juan Bautista -Montoya, 1617; (6) Lisboa, Antonio Álvarez, 1618; (7) Barcelona, Sebastián de -Cormellas, 1618; (8) Madrid, Juan de Zúñiga (Francisco Manuel de Mena), 1736; -(9) Madrid, la Viuda de Manuel Fernández, 1772; (10) Madrid, Antonio de -Sancha, 1784; (11) Madrid, Imprenta de Vega, 1805; (12) Madrid, los hijos de -Da. Catalina Piñuela, 1829; (13) Paris, Baudry, 1835; (14) Paris, Baudry, 1841; -(15) Madrid, Rivadeneyra, 1846; (16) Madrid, Rivadeneyra, 1863; (17) Madrid, -Gaspar y Roig, 1866; (18) Madrid, Álvarez hermanos, 1875; (19) Madrid, -Nicolás Moya, 1883. -</p> -<p> -It may be well to state that in Nos. (12), (13), (14), (15), (16) and (17) the -<cite>Galatea</cite> is not printed separately, but forms part of collections of Cervantes's -works. -</p> -<p> -It has hitherto been uncertain whether No. (5) really existed or not. It is -noted by Nicolás Antonio (<em>op. cit.</em>, vol. ii., p. 105). This Baeza edition is also -mentioned under the heading of <cite>Romans historiques</cite> by Gordon de Percel who, -in all likelihood, simply copied the note from Antonio: see <cite>De l'usage des -romans où l'on fait voir leur utilité & leurs differens caracteres avec une</cite> -<cite>Bibliothèque des romans, accompagnée de remarques critiques sur leur -choix et leurs éditions</cite> (Amsterdam, 1734), vol. ii., p. 108. Despite the imprint -on the title-page, this work was actually issued at Rouen: see a valuable article -in the <cite>Revue d'Histoire littéraire de la France</cite> (Paris, 1900, vol. vii., -pp. 546-589) by M. Paul Bonnefon who describes Gordon de Percel—the pseudonym -of the Abbé Nicolas Lenglet du Fresnoy—as an odious example of an odious type, -carrying on the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">métier d'espion sous couleur d'érudit</i>. -</p> -<p> -There can now, apparently, be no doubt that an edition of the <cite>Galatea</cite> was -printed at Baeza in 1617, for Rius (<em>op. cit.</em>, vol. i., p. 104) states that he -possesses a letter from the Marqués de Jerez, dated September 14, 1890, in which -the writer explicitly says a copy of this edition was stolen from him at Irún. I -do not at all understand what Rius can mean by the oracular sentence which -immediately precedes this statement: "No tengo noticia de ejemplar alguno, -ni sé que nadie la (<em>i.e.</em> la edición) haya visto." -</p> -<p> -It has been remarked in the text of this Introduction (p. xxxv) that Cervantes -applies the word <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">discreta</i> with distressing frequency to his heroine and her sister -shepherdesses. The repetition of this adjective appears to have produced a considerable -impression on the Lisbon publisher, Antonio Álvarez, for his edition—No. -(6) in the above list—is entitled <cite>La discreta Galatea</cite>. No. (5) is also said -to be entitled <cite>La discreta Galatea</cite>. But on this point no one, save the Marqués -de Jerez de los Caballeros, can speak with any certainty.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_103" href="#FNanchor_103" class="label">[103]</a> Koerting (<em>op. cit.</em>, vol. i., p. 65) states that d'Audignier translated the <cite>Galatea</cite> -into French in 1618. This is a mistake. Koerting was probably thinking of the -<cite>Novelas exemplares</cite>. Six of these (<cite>La Española inglesa</cite>, <cite>Las dos Doncellas</cite>, -<cite>La Señora Cornelia</cite>, <cite>La Ilustre fregona</cite>, <cite>El Casamiento engañoso</cite>, and the -<cite>Coloquio de los perros</cite>) were translated by d'Audignier in 1618, the remaining -tales being rendered by Rosset.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_104" href="#FNanchor_104" class="label">[104]</a> Now best remembered, perhaps, by Giovanni Martini's setting of the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">romance</i>— -</p> -<p> - -Plaisir d'amour ne dure qu'un moment—<br /> -</p> - -<p> -which, sung by that incomparable artist, Madame Pauline Viardot-Garcia (sister -of Malibran, and wife of the well-known Spanish scholar, Louis Viardot), delighted -our fathers and mothers. It may be worth noting that the song is assigned -to the goatherd in <cite>Célestine: Nouvelle Espagnole</cite>. Readers of contemporary -literature will remember the adaptation of the opening words by the Baron -Desforges in M. Paul Bourget's <cite>Mensonges</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_105" href="#FNanchor_105" class="label">[105]</a> <cite>Causeries du lundi</cite> (Troisième édition, Paris), vol. iii., p. 236. Joubert's -appreciation of Florian's talent is practically the same as Sainte-Beuve's. In his -<cite>Pensées</cite> (titre xxiv., art. xxxi.), he expresses himself thus, concerning Florian's -extremely free rendering of <cite>Don Quixote</cite>, first published in 1799: "Cervantes a, -dans son livre, une bonhomie bourgeoise et familière, à laquelle l'élégance de -Florian est antipathique. En traduisant <cite>Don Quichotte</cite>, Florian a changé le -mouvement de l'air, la clef de la musique de l'auteur original. Il a appliqué aux -épanchements d'une veine abondante et riche les sautillements et les murmures -d'un ruisseau: petits bruits, petits mouvements, très-agréables sans doute quand -il s'agit d'un filet d'eau resserré qui roule sur des cailloux, mais allure insupportable -et fausse quand on l'attribue à une eau large qui coule à plein canal sur un -sable très-fin."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_106" href="#FNanchor_106" class="label">[106]</a> <cite>Causeries du lundi</cite> (Troisième Edition, Paris), vol. iii., p. 238. See also M. -Anatole France, <cite>La Vie littéraire</cite> (Paris, 1889), p. 194. "Longtemps, longtemps -après la mort de Florian, Rose Gontier, devenue la bonne mère Gontier, amusait -ses nouvelles camarades comme une figure d'un autre âge. Fort dévote, elle -n'entrait jamais en scène sans faire deux ou trois fois dans la coulisse le signe -de la croix. Toutes les jeunes actrices se donnaient le plaisir de lutiner celle -qui jouait si au naturel <cite>Ma tante Aurore</cite>; elles l'entouraient au foyer et lui -refaisaient bien souvent la même question malicieuse: -</p> -<p> -—Mais est-ce bien possible, grand'maman Gontier, est-il bien vrai que M. de -Florian vous battait? -</p> -<p> -Et, pour toute réponse et explication, toute retenue qu'elle était, la bonne -maman Gontier leur disait dans sa langue du dix-huitième siècle: -</p> -<p> -—C'est, voyez-vous, mes enfants, que celui-là ne payait pas."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_107" href="#FNanchor_107" class="label">[107]</a> Rius (<em>op. cit.</em>, vol. ii., 319) mentions three editions of Pellicer's translation, -the latest being dated 1830. A reprint is said to have been issued at Paris in -1841. On p. xvii of the 1814 edition—the only one within my reach—Casiano -Pellicer suggests that Cervantes introduced Diego Durán into the <cite>Galatea</cite> under -the name of Daranio: "Puedese presumir que el Daranio, cuyas bodas refiere tan -menudamente, sea Diego Durán, á quien supone natural de Toledo ó de su tierra, -y alaba también en su canto de Calíope de gran poeta."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_108" href="#FNanchor_108" class="label">[108]</a> The title of this arrangement is <cite>Los Enamorados ó Galatea y sus -bodas. Historia pastoral comenzada por Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, -Abreviada después, y continuada y últimamente concluida por D. Cándido -María Trigueros</cite> (Madrid, 1798).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_109" href="#FNanchor_109" class="label">[109]</a> The only translations of the <cite>Galatea</cite> are the following:— -</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>English (by Gordon Willoughby James Gyll), London, 1867, 1892. -</p> -<p> -German (by F. Sigismund), Zwickau, 1830; (by A. Keller and F. Notter), -Stuttgart, 1840; (by F. M. Duttenhofer), Stuttgart, 1841.</p></div> - </div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_110" href="#FNanchor_110" class="label">[110]</a> Gyll's name is very naturally omitted from the <cite>Dictionary of National -Biography</cite>. His publications, so far as I can trace them, are as follows: -</p> -<p> -(1) <cite>The Genealogy of the family of Gylle, or Gill, of Hertfordshire, Essex -and Kent, illustrated by wills and other documents</cite> (London, 1842). This -pamphlet is an enlarged reprint of a contribution to <cite>Collectanea Topographica -et Genealogica</cite>, vol. viii. -</p> -<p> -(2) <cite>A Tractate on Language</cite> (London, 1859): a second revised edition -appeared in 1860. -</p> -<p> -(3) <cite>History of the Parish of Wraysbury, Ankerwycke Priory, and -Magna Charta Island; with the History of Horton, and the Town of -Colnbrook, Bucks.</cite> (London, 1862.) -</p> -<p> -(4) <cite>Galatea: A pastoral romance. By Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra. -Literally translated from the Spanish</cite> (London, 1867). A posthumous -reprint was issued in 1892. -</p> -<p> -(5) <cite>The Voyage to Parnassus: Numantia, a Tragedy; The Commerce -of Algiers, by Cervantes. Translated from the Spanish....</cite> (London, 1870). -</p> -<p> -Concerning the writer I have gathered the following particulars: they are to -some extent derived from statements scattered up and down his works. For the -references to <cite>Notes and Queries</cite> I am particularly indebted to Mr. W. R. -Morfill, the distinguished Reader in Slavonic at the University of Oxford. -</p> -<p> -Our Gyll was born on August 1, 1803 (<cite>History of Wraysbury</cite>, p. 100), being -the third son of William Gill (at one time an officer in the army), and the grandson -of a City alderman. William Gill, the elder, was a partner in the firm of -Wright, Gill, and Dalton, wholesale stationers in Abchurch Lane, London. He was -elected alderman in 1781, served as Sheriff in 1781-1782, was appointed Treasurer -of Christ's Hospital in 1784-1785, and in due course became Lord Mayor for -1788-1789. He died in the Treasurer's house at Christ's Hospital on March 26, -1798, being then seventy-four years of age: his brother-in-law and partner, -Thomas Wright, died on April 9, 1798. An obituary note in <cite>The Gentleman's -Magazine</cite> (vol. lxviii., p. 264) states that the elder William Gill "was a -respectable tradesman and died immensely rich." The younger William Gill -died on February 16, 1806, at the age of thirty-one. I do not know to what -school Gordon Willoughby James Gill was sent. He speaks of himself as "a -member of the University of Oxford" (<cite>A Tractate on Language</cite>, First Edition, -p. iii.). This is confirmed by the appended note in the Matricula Book, which -am enabled to print through the kindness of my friend Mr. H. Butler Clarke:— -</p> -<p> -"From the Register of Matriculations of the University of Oxford. 1822 Jan. -15. Coll. Pemb. Gordon Willoughby Jacobus Gill, 18, Gulielmi, de par. S. -Mariæ bonæ Arm. fil. 3<sup>ius</sup>. -</p> -<p> -A true extract, made 30 Jan<sup>y.</sup>, 1903 by T. Vere Bayne, Keeper of the Archives." -</p> -<p> -Unfortunately, this entry is not an autograph: all the other entries on the -page which contains it are, as the Keeper of the Archives informs me, in the -same handwriting. The <cite>Oxford University Calendar</cite> for 1823 gives (p. 275) -our author's names in this form and sequence: James Willoughby Gordon Gill. -This form and order are repeated in the <cite>Oxford University Calendar</cite> for the -years 1824 and 1825. In the alphabetical index to the <cite>Calendar</cite> for 1823-1824-1825 -this Pembroke undergraduate is entered as: <cite>Gill, James G. W.</cite> -As the editors of the semi-official <cite>Calendar</cite> derive their information from the -College authorities, we may take it that, from 1822 to 1825 inclusive, the future -author passed as James Gill at Pembroke, and amongst those who knew him -best. It cannot be supposed that the Master and Fellows of Pembroke made -a wrong return for three consecutive years, nor that they wilfully reversed the -order of Gill's Christian names with the express object of annoying him. Had -they done either of these things, Gill was the very man to protest energetically: -his conduct in later years snows that he was punctilious in these matters. -However, it is right to bear in mind that the Matricula Book gives Gill's -Christian names in the same order as they appear on his title-pages. I have -failed to obtain any details of his career at Pembroke. Mr. Wood, the present -Librarian at Pembroke, states that there is "no proper record" of the Commoners -at that College in Gill's time. On this point I have only to say that the poet -Thomas Lovell Beddoes was in residence at Pembroke with Gill, and that -information concerning Beddoes's undergraduate days is apparently not lacking. -Possibly more careful research might discover some trace of Gill at Oxford. He -seems to have taken no degree, and to have left no memory or tradition at -Pembroke. He himself tells us (<cite>A Tractate on Language</cite>, First Edition, p. iii) -that when at Oxford "he formed an acquaintance with a gentleman of considerable -erudition, but not of either University, who had made the English tongue his -peculiar care." To this association we owe <cite>A Tractate on Language</cite>, and, -perhaps, the peculiarities of style which Gill afterwards developed. But, in -the latter respect, a serious responsibility may attach to Milton; for, in his -<cite>Tractate</cite>, Gill refers to the poet and laments (p. 224) that, at the period of which -he speaks, "the Allegro and Penseroso were confined to the closets of the -judicious." The inference is that Gill modelled his diction on both these poems. -</p> -<p> -His name disappears from the <cite>Oxford University Calendar</cite> in 1826. He -visited Mexico in 1832 (<cite>History of Wraysbury</cite>, p. 49), and perhaps during this -journey he picked up a queer smattering of Spanish. On August 29, 1839, he -married "Anne Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Edward Bowyer-Smijth, Bt.," and -this seems to have given a new direction to what he calls his "studious tendencies." -</p> -<p> -The founder of his wife's family was plain William Smith, who died in 1626; -this William Smith's son developed into Thomas Smyth, and died a baronet in -1668; Sir Thomas Smyth's great-great-grandson, the seventh baronet, was -known as Sir William Smijth, and died in 1823. Gill's father-in-law,—Vicar of -Camberwell and Chaplain to George IV.—was the ninth baronet. On June 10, -1839, he assumed the name of Bowyer by royal license, and was styled Sir -Edward Bowyer-Smijth. In this the Vicar was practically following the lead of -his younger brother, a captain in the 10th Hussars, who assumed the name of -Windham by royal license at Toulouse on May 22, 1823, and thenceforth signed -himself Joseph Smijth-Windham. The contagion infected Gill. -</p> -<p> -After his marriage to Miss Bowyer-Smijth, third daughter of the ninth baronet, -Gill became a diligent student of genealogy, heraldry and county-history. It might -be excessive to say that he was attacked by the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">folie des grandeurs</i>; but he does -appear to have felt that, since the Smiths had blossomed into Bowyer-Smijths and -Smijth-Windhams, a man of his ability was bound to do something of the same -kind for the ancient house of Gill. And something was done: a great deal, in -fact. The first-fruits of Gill's enterprise are garnered in <cite>The genealogy of the -family of Gylle, or Gill, of Hertfordshire, Essex and Kent, illustrated by -wills and other documents</cite> which he printed in 1842. At this first stage he -acted with praiseworthy caution, signing his pamphlet with the initials G. G. -If he was ever known by so vulgar a name as James—the name of the -patron-saint of Spain—he had evidently got rid of it by 1842. At Pembroke -in 1823 his initials were J. G. W. G., according to the <cite>Oxford University -Calendar</cite>: nineteen years later they were G. G. This advancement passed -unnoticed, and the delighted investigator continued his researches. These were -so successful that, according to Gill's shy confession wrung from him long afterwards, -"as the old annals, parish registers, tombs, wills. &c., wrote our name -Gyll, we, by sign manual, returned to that orthography in 1844": (see <cite>Notes -and Queries</cite>, March 24, 1866, vol. ix., p. 250). The English of this avowal is -bad, but the meaning is clear. Henceforward Gill is transfigured into Gyll. -These easy victories led him to enlarge his plan of campaign, and thus we -find in the 1846 edition of <cite>Burke's Landed Gentry</cite> the pedigree of the family -of Gyll of Wyrardisbury, which contains the statement that on October 13, -1794, the head of the house (of the Gylls of Wyrardisbury), "William Gyll, -Esquire, Captain 2nd Regiment Life Guards, and Equerry to H. R. H. the Duke of -Sussex" married "Lady Harriet Flemyng, only child of the Right Hon. Hamilton -Flemyng, last Earl of Wigtoun, and had issue" our author, and other children -with whom we are not concerned here. -</p> -<p> -According to George Lipscomb's <cite>History and Antiquities of the County -of Buckingham</cite> (London, 1847, vol. iv., p. 605, <em>n.</em> 1.), it was on December 17, -1844, that "Her Majesty was pleased ... to permit the family of Gyll of -Wyrardisbury, to resume the ancient orthography of their name." The enthusiastic -Gyll (as we must now call him) interpreted the privilege in a generous -fashion. It galled the patrician to think that his grandfather had been a lowly -alderman, and to know that this lamentable fact was on record at Wraysbury. -There were epitaphs in Wraysbury Church describing his grandfather as "Alderman -of the City of London"; describing his father as "only son of Alderman -Gill"; describing his aunt, Mrs. Paxton, as "daughter of William Gill, Esq., -Alderman of the City of London." Our Gyll had all these odious references to -the aldermanship removed; in their stead he introduced more high-sounding -phrases; he interpolated the statement that his grandfather was "of the family -of Gyll of Wyddial, Herts"; and on all three monuments he took it upon himself -to change Gill into Gyll. The changes were made clumsily and unintelligently, -but one cannot have everything. Gordon Gyll was indefatigable in his pious -work, and, within three years, he somehow induced Lipscomb (<em>op. cit.</em>, vol. iv., -p. 604) to insert a pedigree connecting the family of "Gyll of Buckland and -Wyddial Hall, co. Herts, Yeoveny Hall, co. Middlesex, and Wyrardisbury Hall, -co. Bucks," with certain Gylls established in Cambridgeshire during the reign of -Edward I. It is impossible not to admire the calm courage with which the still, -strong man swept facts, tombstones, epitaphs, and obstacle's of all kinds from the -path of his nobility. -</p> -<p> -His proceedings passed unnoticed during fourteen happy years. At last -attention was drawn to them in <cite>Notes and Queries</cite> (May 11, 1861, p. 365) by a -correspondent who signed himself "A Stationer." "A Stationer" remarked -sarcastically on the erasure of all references to the aldermanship from the monuments -in Wraysbury Church, noted that the dead Gills had been glorified into -Gylls, deplored Gordon Gyll's ingratitude towards the ancestors to whom he owed -everything, censured Gyll's conduct as "silly," and protested against such tampering -as improper. The editor of <cite>Notes and Queries</cite> supported "A Stationer's" -view on the ground that monuments had hitherto been accepted as testimony in -suits at law, and that their evidential value would be completely destroyed if -Gyll's example were generally followed. Gyll put on his finest county manner, -and replied in an incoherent letter (<cite>Notes and Queries</cite>, May 26, 1861, p. 414) -which breathes the haughty spirit of a great territorial chieftain. He denounced -the insolence of "A Stationer" in daring to criticize "a county family," branded -the intruder as a "tradesman," a "miserable citizen critic," and pitied the poor -soul's "confined education." But he failed to explain his conduct satisfactorily, -and laid himself open to the taunts of Dr. J. Alexander (<cite>Notes and Queries</cite>, -June 8, 1861, p. 452), who declared that Gyll had "proved himself unable to -write English, and ignorant of some of the simplest rules of composition." Dr. -Alexander added that,—if a licence obtained in 1844 could justify changing the -spelling of the name of a man who died in 1798,—by parity of reasoning, "had -the worthy alderman accepted the proferred baronetcy, all his ancestors would, -<em>ipso facto</em>, become baronets. I believe China is the only country where this -practice obtains." In the same number of <cite>Notes and Queries</cite>, "A Stationer" -returned to the subject, and posed a number of very awkward questions. "Are -the Gylls really a county family? And when did they become so? Has any -member of the house ever filled the office of Knight of the shire, or even that of -sheriff for the county of Buckingham?" And, after reproaching Gyll for his -repudiation of his hard-working grandfather, "A Stationer" ended by assuring -the proud squire that "the Stationers of London have a more grateful recollection -of their quondam brothers and benefactors—for benefactors they were to a very -unequal extent. From Alderman Wright, the Stationers received 2000<em>l.</em> 4 per -cents.: from Alderman Gill (who left a fortune of £300,000) 30<em>s.</em> a year to be -added to Cator's dinner. However, their portraits are still to be seen in the -counting-house of the Company, placed in one frame, side by side. "<cite>Par nobile -fratrum!</cite>" Gyll dashed off a reply which the editor of <cite>Notes and Queries</cite> -(June 29, 1861, p. 520) declined to insert: "as we desire to avoid as much as -possible any intermixture of personal matters into this important question." At -this the blood of all the Gylls boiled in the veins of Gordon Willoughby James. -He was not to be put off by a timorous journalist, and he secured the insertion in -<cite>Notes and Queries</cite> (July 27, 1861, p. 74) of an illiterate letter which, says the -editor, "we have printed ... exactly as it stands in the original." The letter -seems to have been written under the influence of deep emotion, for the aristocratic -Gyll twice speaks of his grandfather as a "party." He demanded an -ample apology, and ended with the announcement that "if I do not hear from -you I shall send the family lawyer to meet the charge." Gyll did not obtain the -apology, did not attempt to answer "A Stationer's" string of questions, did not -accept the editor's offer to print the suppressed letter, did not "send the family -lawyer to meet the charge." In fact he did nothing that he threatened to do, and -nothing that he was asked to do. If he consulted his solicitor, the latter probably -joined with the editor and told him not to make a fool of himself. -</p> -<p> -But Gyll had no idea of abandoning his pretensions, and he renewed them with -abundant details in his <cite>History of Wraysbury</cite>, a quarto which contains more -than its title implies. He is not content to note (p. 153) that "occasionally -those dreary landmarks in the vast desert of human misery, called Coroner's -inquests, arise in Wraysbury." He also proves, to his own satisfaction, that "the -family of Ghyll, Gyll, Gylle, Gille, Gill, for it is recorded in all these ways, is -derived from that one which resided in the North, temp. Edward the Confessor, -1041, at Gille's Land in Cumberland" (p. 99), and that "in 1278 Walter le Gille -served as a juryman at Tonbridge" (p. 98). The arms of the Gylls are duly -given: "Sable, two chevrons argent, each charged with three mullets of the field, -on a dexter Canton, or; a lion passant at guard, gules. Also Lozenges or and -vert; a lion rampant at guard, gules." Heralds whom I have consulted have -jeered at the Gyll escutcheon, but I cannot bring myself to give their ribald remarks -in print. Apparently, the main purpose of the <cite>History of Wraysbury</cite> is to -shew that the Gylls (with a <em>y</em>) are very Superior Persons, and that the Gills -(with an <em>i</em>) are People of No Importance. Gyll admits that the latter produced a -worthy man in the person of John Gill, "a Baptist divine"; and the historian, -when writing of his poor relations (p. 125), emphasizes the fact that John Gill -was not an Anabaptist. Anabaptists were evidently an inferior set. -</p> -<p> -It will be seen that Gyll traced back his pedigree to a period earlier than the -Norman Conquest: six centuries before his wife's ancestors (then known as -Smith) were first heard of. It was a great achievement and henceforth no Gyll -need fear to look a Bowring-Smijth in the face. And Gyll's ambition grew. He -could not prove that he was the child of a baronet, and, in so much, he was in a -position of social inferiority to his wife. But he did the next best thing by declaring -that, if he was not the son of a baronet, he easily might have been. In his -<cite>History of Wraysbury</cite>, he states (p. 97) that his grandfather was Lord Mayor -of London when George III. went to St Paul's to give thanks for his recovery -from his first attack of insanity, that the usual patent "was prepared and -announced in all the public papers, 18th and 19th April, 1789, to create him a -Baronet, which is usual when the King honours the city on any great occasion, -but the profered advancement was not accepted for family reasons. Nor was the -claim revived until his son "William Gyll, Captain 2nd Life Guards, who had in -1803 at his own expense raised two troops of cavalry at the threat of invasion, -solicited the favour which his father had injudiciously declined, when he too -unfortunately died prematurely, and the expected honour has not since been -conferred." This is a repetition of a favourite phrase: for Lipscomb (<em>op. cit.</em>, -vol. iv., p. 605, <em>n.</em> 3) states that the younger William Gyll "unfortunately died -suddenly, and the expected honour has not since been conferred." One can guess -the source of Lipscomb's information. -</p> -<p> -I regret to say that Gyll throws all the blame for this catastrophe on his -grandmother, as may be seen by an intemperate foot-note which follows the -passage just quoted from the <cite>History of Wraysbury</cite>: "His (the Lord Mayor's) -wife Mary induced him to forego the honour, because there was a son by his first -wife, who only survived a few years and died unmarried. Women may be very -affectionate but not discreet. They have a fibre more in their hearts, and a cell -less in their brains than men." This is most improper, no doubt. Still, great -allowance should be made for the exasperation of a man who longed to be a -baronet's son, who might have been one, and who was not. -</p> -<p> -Gyll had certainly played his part gallantly. Considering the material that he -had to use, he worked wonders. He had (perhaps) transformed himself from -James to Gordon; he had (unquestionably) evolved from Gill to Gyll. He had -wiped out the horrid memory of the aldermanship, and had buried the old -stationer's shop miles beneath the ground-floor of limbo. And there is testimony -to his social triumphs in the list of subscribers that precedes his <cite>History of -Wraysbury</cite>, which is dedicated "by permission" to the late Prince Consort. -Among the subscribers were two dukes, two earls, five barons, ten baronets: -and these great personages were followed by Mr. Disraeli, Mr. Milner Gibson, the -Dean of Windsor, the Provost of Eton, and other commoners of distinction. -</p> -<p> -It was a glorious victory which Gyll enjoyed in peace for four years. Then his -hour of reckoning came. A correspondent of <cite>Notes and Queries</cite>, signing himself -"Anglo-Scotus," pointed out (February 24, 1866, p. 158) that the statement concerning -the Gylls in <cite>Burke's Landed Gentry</cite> was erroneous; that no officer -named Gyll ever held a commission in either regiment of the Life Guards; that -Hamilton Flemyng was not the last (or any other) Earl of Wigtoun; and that -consequently no such person as Lady Harriet Flemyng ever existed. Gyll pondered -for a month and then, at last, nerved himself to write to <cite>Notes and Queries</cite> -(March 24, 1866, p. 250) asserting that Hamilton Flemyng was "<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">per legem -terrae</i>, 9th and last Earl of Wigton." His letter was thought to be too rambling -for insertion: the editor confined himself to printing this crucial passage, and -referred Gyll to the report of the Committee for Privileges which set forth that -"the claimant (Hamilton Flemyng) hath no right to the titles, honours, and -dignities claimed by his petition." This report was quoted in the same number of -<cite>Notes and Queries</cite> (pp. 246-247) by an Edinburgh correspondent signing himself -G., and G. went on to say that, though no Gyll ever held a commission in the -Life Guards, a certain William Gill figures in the Edinburgh Almanacs for -1794-5-6 as a Lieutenant in the 2nd Life Guards. I have since verified this -statement, and I find that William Gill was gazetted to the 2nd Life Guards -on September 26, 1793. In spite of the interest that he took in his family -history, Gyll had no accurate knowledge of his father's doings. William Gill -was transferred to the Late 2nd Troop of Horse Grenadier Guards (a reduced -corps receiving full pay) on March 23, 1796, and he retired on March 19, 1799 -(see <cite>The London Gazette</cite>, Nos. 13,878 and 15,116). But Gyll was ever a -muddler and a bungler. He informed Lipscomb that his father had "died -suddenly" (<em>op. cit.</em>, vol. iv., p. 605); while, in the <cite>History of Wraysbury</cite> -(p. 121), he copies an epitaph recording William Gill's death "after a long and -painful illness." -</p> -<p> -It was thus established that the family name was Gill; that the younger -William Gill did not marry the daughter of the last Earl of Wigton (or Wigtoun); -that he was never a Captain in the 2nd Life Guards; and that in 1803, when he -was alleged to have raised two troops of cavalry, he had already resigned his -commission four years. Human nature being what it is, this exposure may have -brought a smile to the lips of the Bowyer-Smijths who had listened to Gyll's -stories of a cock and of a bull for a quarter of a century. Gyll collapsed at once -when detected, and he published no more results of his genealogical researches. -It is a pity, for who knows to what length of absurdity he might not have gone? -Who knows, indeed, whether his little tale of the Lord Mayor and the baronetcy -is not of a piece with the rest? I have searched the contemporary newspapers, -and the nearest approach that I can find to a confirmation of Gyll's assertion is -in <cite>The Diary; or Woodfall's Register</cite> (Friday, April 24, 1789): "That the -Lord Mayor will be a Baronet is now certain; and that Deputies Seekey and -Birch will be knighted is extremely probable." I do not know what happened to -Seekey and Birch. The Gylls are enough for a lifetime. Years afterwards a -correspondent to <cite>Notes and Queries</cite> (December 26, 1876, p. 512) derisively -observed that "the Gyll family, however, quarter the Flemyng arms, and also the -Flemyng crest." But the badger was not to be drawn a third time: Gyll -endured the affront in the meekest silence. -</p> -<p> -The versatile man had relieved his severe antiquarian studies by excursions -into light literature. <cite>A Tractate on Language</cite> was published because, as the -author avows (p. iii), "he thought (perhaps immaturely) that some occult -treasures and recondite truths in philology were eliminated, and were worthy -public consideration." When Gyll wrote these words (1859) he was in his fifty-seventh -year, and was as mature as he was ever likely to be. The work, which -contains the alarming statement (p. 171) that "Noah taught his descendants -his matricular tongue," seems to have been rudely handled by critics. In the -second edition of his <cite>Tractate</cite> Gyll replies with the ladylike remark that "as -regards his opinions, it was not consistent with equity or delicacy that they -should have been encountered with <em>savage phrenzy</em>;" and, with a proper -contempt for reviewers, he adds that "while such reviews indulge thus -indiscriminately, pourtraying sheer obliquity of mind and judgment in lieu of -that <em>manly acumen</em> to which they pretend, the critics must perceive how much -below the dignity of the criticised it is to evince uneasiness or resentment—both -as easily 'shaken off as dewdrops from the lion's mane.'" It is unlikely that -Gyll is widely read nowadays, and this is my excuse for doing what I can to -save two distinguished aphorisms from the wreck of his <cite>Tractate</cite>. There is -nothing like them (it is safe to say) in Pascal or La Rochefoucauld. -</p> -<p> -(<em>a</em>) "As in religion what is bones to philosophy is milk to faith" (pp. iii-iv). -</p> -<p> -(<em>b</em>) "A literary man, however, is like a silkworm employed and wrapped up in -his own work" (p. 163). -</p> -<p> -After his exposure in <cite>Notes and Queries</cite> Gyll dropped genealogy, heraldry, -and topography as though they were so many living coals. But, though he -dreaded the fire, he was still bent on making the world ring with the name of Gyll. -Spanish literature, which was at that time cultivated in these islands by such -men as Chorley, FitzGerald, Archbishop Trench, Denis Florence Mac-Carthy and -Ormsby, seemed to him a promising field in which he should find no dangerous -rivals. In the <cite>History of Wraysbury</cite> (p. 146) he included his own name -among the "names of literary and distinguished characters of Wraysbury," and -under the date 1860, he mentions his "Translation from the Spanish of Don -Guzmán de Alfarache." I presume this was a version of Mateo Alemán's -picaresque novel, but I can find no trace of it. At the age of sixty-four the -extraordinary Gyll furbished up the few words of Spanish which he had learned -in Mexico thirty-five years earlier, and courageously started as a translator of -Cervantes. His versions are the worst ever published in any tongue. But -criticism was impotent against his self-complacency. A true literary man, he -lived—to use his own happy phrase—"like a silkworm employed and wrapped -up in his own work." On the whole his was a prosperous career. Carpers -might do their worst, but the solid facts remain. Gyll had practically blotted -out the stain of the stationer's shop and the aldermanship; he had obtained permission -to write his name with a <em>y</em>: he had elbowed his way into county-histories, -into Burke's <cite>Landed Gentry</cite> and into Burke's <cite>General Armory</cite>; he had -published such works as, in all probability, the world will never see again. He -appreciated these performances to the full, and he revelled in gazing on the south -window in Wraysbury Church, of which he writes (<cite>History of Wraysbury</cite>, -p. 123): "At the summit are two small openings of painted glass, and in the -centre is a quatrefoil in which the letters G. W. J. G. are convoluted.... The -play of colours on the monuments when the sun is brilliant, affords a pleasing -variegation." What more could the mind of man desire? Gordon Willoughby -James Gyll died on April 6, 1878.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_111" href="#FNanchor_111" class="label">[111]</a> See p. viii. of Gyll's version: "Dedicated by Cervantes, to his Excellency -Don Joseph Moniño, Count of Florida Blanca, Knight of the Grand Cross of the -Royal Order of K. Charles III." The fact is, of course, that Gyll translated -from <cite>Los seis libros de Galatea</cite>, reprinted in 1784 by Antonio de Sancha with a -dedication to Floridablanca. The words—"Dedicated by Cervantes"—are interpolated -by Gyll. Floridablanca died in 1808, nearly two hundred years after -Cervantes.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_112" href="#FNanchor_112" class="label">[112]</a> Evidently a misprint for Silena.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_113" href="#FNanchor_113" class="label">[113]</a> In justice to Gyll, the polemist, I reprint his two letters contributed to <cite>Notes -and Queries</cite> (May 25, 1861, and July 27, 1861):— -</p> -<p> -(<em>a</em>) "A S<small>TATIONER</small> writes his remarks on the subject of some alterations on -lapidary inscriptions in Wraysbury Church: and pray, Sir, by what right does -this tradesman ask any family why they choose to change a monumental reading, -provided nothing is inserted which militates against truth? -</p> -<p> -What has the world to do with family arrangements? And whether is the -article to be taken for a <em>charge</em> or a <em>lament</em>? I only wish this busy citizen to -employ his time more profitably—while I wonder that any periodical should -condescend to introduce the subject, without notice being given to members of the -family, and an inquiry made. If they had reasons good for it, what on earth -does the public care about it? Certain words on certain monuments were not -approved by a county family, and they were omitted: and lo! a citizen rises to -impeach the <em>proprietary</em> of it. The case stands thus, Monument No. 1: -</p> -<p> -This was an unusually large slab, on which the simple record of the deaths of -Wm. Gyll, Esq., and his wife, were only inscribed. The family thought the space -might be occupied by the addition of other family names, &c.—and it was done. -And now the slab is full. -</p> -<p> -No. 2. Wm. Gyll, Esq., was styled here Equerry to H.R.H. Duke of Sussex; -but that he was also Captain in the 2nd Life Guards was omitted. It was -deemed expedient to make room for its insertion, and it was done. -</p> -<p> -No. 3. On Mrs. Paxton's monument, a daughter of Wm. Gyll, Esq., the latter -gentleman is styled <em>of this parish</em>; and as he had considerable property here, it -was his proper designation. Room was made to effect this, and it was done. -</p> -<p> -There are thirteen monuments to the family of Gyll, or relations, in the chancel -of Wraysbury Church; and where the patronymic was spelt with an <em>i</em> as formerly, -instead of <em>y</em> as latterly, a change was made that these names might correspond -with the same orthography on other monuments (see Chauncey & Clutterbuck, -<em>Herts</em>), and with antique deeds (see <cite>Collectanea Topographica</cite>, vol. viii.). -</p> -<p> -The family for many years had returned to the <em>original</em> mode of spelling their -patronymic, to distinguish them from other families similarly called; and for this -privilege a permission was obtained by <em>sign manual</em> in 1844. And if a correspondent -change was made on the monuments, what has anyone in the world to do -with it but the family? -</p> -<p> -In one case a mistaken date was inscribed, 17th for 26th March. This is made -a <em>charge and a crime</em> by this miserable citizen critic, as if these mistakes were -made purposely. -</p> -<p> -In two cases Dr. Lipscomb's monumental inscriptions give <em>widow</em> for wife, and -<em>Sept.</em> for April. Had the S<small>TATIONER</small>, who is so wonderfully correct, and turns -all things to wrongs, gone or sent to Wraysbury, he would have found <em>his</em> -improvements already on the monuments. -</p> -<p> -But his candid soul converts all this to <em>vanity</em>: and, no doubt, vanity finds -endless occupation for ingenuity and invention. Suggests that a family ought to -be proud of civic honours. Many thanks to the <em>suggestive</em> S<small>TATIONER</small>; but if -this family is not, what cares the world about it? It may have gained nothing -by the position; but if he will be <em>obtrusive</em>, let him tell the next editor who is in -want of matter another <em>secret</em>—for he uses <em>this term</em> in his disquisition—that Mr. -Gyll, in 1789, refused to be created a Baronet, and that the patent was made out -and was ready for execution. See the newspapers <em>passim</em>, 18th and 23rd April, -1789. -</p> -<p> -It may be the family desires no remembrance of the honours conferred, or the -honours proffered; and if so, what daring presumption gives a S<small>TATIONER</small> a plea -to impugn any act done by A. or B., and parade it before the public in an -accommodating journal? His confined education may preclude his knowing that -a Lord Stanhope doffed his title and removed his arms from all his carriages; and -that Horace Walpole remarked, that calling him "My Lord," was calling him -<em>names</em> in his old age. Many have not assumed honours to which they were -entitled. -</p> -<p> -As the S<small>TATIONER</small>, or the poor malice of the writer under this name, has made -a <em>charge</em>, I trust, Sir, in your <em>equity</em>, that you will insert this explanation in your -next number; and I also trust to read in your most interesting and useful -publication, for the future, more that <em>concerns</em> the curious world than that a -family substituted on a monument a <em>y</em> for an <em>i</em>, and withheld altogether the -naming of an honour which might have appeared there. -</p> -<p> - -G<small>ORDON</small> G<small>YLL.</small><br /> -</p> - -<p> -7, Lower Seymour Street, Portman Square." -</p> -<p> -(<em>b</em>) "As you have not published the letter I sent to your office in answer to that -of A S<small>TATIONER</small>, and also to an LL.D., who, instead of quietly confining himself -to an opinion on a point of law, rushed into <em>personalities</em> quite unjustified by -circumstances, for no letter was addressed to him unless he be the S<small>TATIONER</small> in -disguise, who, in his arrogance dared to say that I was ignorant of the first -principles of composition—I wish to know whether the LL.D. or S<small>TATIONER</small> -mean to assert that by our improving certain monuments in Wraysbury Church -(which we, as a family acting in unison, were entitled to do without the interference -of anyone) we have falsified them. -</p> -<p> -If that be intended, we consider the allegation <em>false and injurious</em>, and unless -we have an unequivocal denial, we shall refer the case to our legal adviser. The -entire object of the S<small>TATIONER</small> was to insult our family, and to impute motives, -which was enough to incite to resentment. -</p> -<p> -If he had politely said that we had caused one letter to be substituted for -another, which did not change the sound of the name, and had put in a Christian -name where the title of a civic honour was inscribed, whereby the party was more -<em>clearly</em> identified—for Mr. Alderman A. may be anybody—it had been well and -harmless, and no such letter, which he terms acrimonious, had been written. -</p> -<p> -You gave, in a note to my letter, an opinion that the question was <em>not touched</em>. -Now, Sir, I wish to ask you or the LL.D. if any L<small>AW</small> is violated, and if a family -has a right to inscribe on a monument that A. or B. were Deputy-Lieut., Magistrates, -M.P., or High Sheriffs? and if so, if a party is termed Alderman where his -proper description would be Lord Mayor, the family may not legally and -judiciously alter it? -</p> -<p> -We stand impeached with <em>breaking a law</em>, and by implication with, <em>falsifying</em> -a lapidary inscription. We wish to know if <em>these imputations</em> are meant either -by LL.D. or the S<small>TATIONER</small>, for if they are, let the case be tried before proper -tribunal, or else let us have a denial. If I do not hear from you I shall send the -family lawyer to meet the charge. -</p> -<p> - -G<small>ORDON GYLL.</small><br /> -</p> - -<p> -7, Lower Seymour Street, Portman Square." -</p> -<p>The above are reproduced exactly as printed in <cite>Notes and Queries</cite>. As -already observed (p. lii. <em>n.</em>), Gyll did not carry out his threats.</p></div> -</div> - - - -<p class="p6 center"><big>FIRST PART</big><br /> -OF THE</p> -<p class="p1 center big2">GALATEA</p> - -<p class="center">DIVIDED INTO SIX BOOKS</p> - -<p class="center p1">WRITTEN BY</p> - -<p class="center p1 big1">MIGUEL DE CERVANTES</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3"></a>[Pg 3]</span></p> -</div> - - - -<p class="p4 center big1">DEDICATION<br /> -<small>TO THE MOST ILLUSTRIOUS LORD,</small><br /> -ASCANIO COLONNA,<a id="FNanchor_114" href="#Footnote_114" class="fnanchor">[114]</a><br /> -<small>ABBOT OF SANTA SOFIA.</small></p> - - -<p>Your Lordship's worth has prevailed with me so much as to -take away from me the fear I might rightly feel in venturing to -offer you these first-fruits of my poor genius. Moreover, considering -that your August Lordship came to Spain not only to -illumine her best Universities, but also to be the pole-star by -which those who profess any real science (especially those who -practise that of poetry) may direct their course, I have not -wished to lose the opportunity of following this guidance, since -I know that in it and by it all find a safe haven and a favourable -reception. May your Lordship be gracious to my desire, which -I send in advance to give some kind of being to this my small -service; and if I do not deserve it for this, I may at least deserve -it for having followed for several years the conquering banners of -that Sun of warfare whom but yesterday Heaven took from -before our eyes, but not from the remembrance of those who -strive to keep the remembrance of things worthy of it, I mean -your Lordship's most excellent father. Adding to this the feeling -of reverence produced in my mind by the things that I, as in -prophecy, have often heard Cardinal de Acquaviva tell of your -Lordship when I was his chamberlain at Rome; which now are -seen fulfilled, not only by me, but by all the world that delights -in your Lordship's virtue, Christian piety, munificence, and -goodness, whereby you give proof every day of the noble and -illustrious race from which you descend; which vies in antiquity -with the early times and leaders of Rome's greatness, and in -virtues and heroic works with equal virtue and more exalted -deeds, as is proved to us by a thousand true histories, full of the -renowned exploits of the trunk and branches of the royal house -of Colonna, beneath whose power and position I now place -myself to shield myself against the murmurers who forgive -nothing; though, if your Lordship forgive this my boldness, I -shall have naught to fear, nor more to desire, save that our Lord -may keep your Lordship's most illustrious person with the increase -of dignity and position that we your servants all desire.</p> - -<p class="indent10">Most Illustrious Lord,<br /> -Your humblest servant kisses your Lordship's hands,<br /> -MIGUEL DE CERVANTES SAAVEDRA.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4"></a>[Pg 4]</span></p> -</div> - -<div class="footnotes"> -<p class="p4 big1 center">FOOTNOTES:</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_114" href="#FNanchor_114" class="label">[114]</a> (Son of Marc Antonio Colonna, Duke of Paliano, whose share in the famous -battle is set forth in P. Alberto Guglielmotti's <cite>Marcantonio Colonna alla -bataglia di Lepanto</cite> (Firenze, 1862). Marc Antonio Colonna, then Viceroy of -Sicily, was summoned to Spain by Philip II. in 1584. He died suddenly at -Medinaceli on August 1, 1584. The dedication is a compliment paid to the son -of the author's old commander. J. F.-K.)</p></div></div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"></a>[Pg 5]</span></p> -<h2 class="nobreak">PROLOGUE.</h2> -</div> - - -<p>C<small>URIOUS</small> R<small>EADERS</small>,</p> - -<p>The occupation of writing eclogues, at a time when poetry -is generally regarded with such little favour, will not, I fancy, be -counted as so praiseworthy a pursuit, but that it may be necessary -especially to justify it to those who, following the varying tastes -of their natural inclination, esteem every taste differing from it -as time and labour lost. But since it concerns no man to justify -himself to intellects that shut themselves up within bounds so -narrow, I desire only to reply to those who, being free from -passion, are moved, with greater reason, not to admit any -varieties of popular poetry, believing that those who deal with -it in this age are moved to publish their writings on slight consideration, -carried away by the force which passion for their -own compositions is wont to have on the authors. So far as -this is concerned, I can urge for my part the inclination I have -always had for poetry, and my years, which, having scarcely -passed the bounds of youth, seem to permit pursuits of the kind. -Besides, it cannot be denied that studies in this art (in former -times so highly esteemed and rightly) carry with them no inconsiderable -advantages: such as enriching the poet (as regards -his native tongue); and acquiring a mastery over the tricks of -eloquence comprised in it, for enterprises that are loftier and -of greater import; and opening a way so that the narrow souls -that wish the copiousness of the Castilian tongue to be checked -by the conciseness of the ancient speech, may, in imitation of -him, understand that it offers a field open, easy, and spacious, -which they can freely traverse with ease and sweetness, with -gravity and eloquence, discovering the variety of acute, subtle, -weighty, and elevated thoughts, which, such is the fertility of -Spanish men of genius, Heaven's favourable influence has -produced with such profit in different parts, and every hour -is producing in this happy age of ours, whereof I can be a sure -witness, for I know some men who, with justice and without the -impediment I suffer, could safely cover so dangerous a course. -But so common and so diverse are men's difficulties, and so -various their aims and actions, that some, in desire of glory, -venture, others, in fear of disgrace, do not dare, to publish that -which, once disclosed, must needs endure the uncertain, and -well-nigh always mistaken, judgment of the people. I have<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>[Pg 6]</span> -given proof of boldness in publishing this book, not because I -have any reason to be confident, but because I could not determine -which of these two difficulties was the greater: whether -that of the man who, wishing to communicate too soon the -talent he has received from Heaven, lightly ventures to offer the -fruits of his genius to his country and friends, or that of him -who, from pure scrupulousness, sloth, or dilatoriness, never quite -contented with what he does and imagines, counting as perfect -only that which he does not attain, never makes up his mind to -disclose and communicate his writings. Hence, just as the daring -and confidence of the one might be condemned, by reason of -the excessive license which accompanies security; so, too, the -mistrust and tardiness of the other is vicious, since late or never -does he by the fruits of his intellect and study benefit those -who expect and desire such aids and examples, to make -progress in their pursuits. Shunning these two difficulties, I -have not published this book before now, nor yet did I desire to -keep it back longer for myself alone, seeing that my intellect -composed it for more than for my pleasure alone. I know well -that what is usually condemned is that no one excels in point of -the style which ought to be maintained in it, for the prince of -Latin poetry was blamed for having reached a higher level in -some of his eclogues more than in others; and so I shall not -have much fear that any one may condemn me for having -mingled philosophical discourses with some loving discourses of -shepherds, who rarely rise beyond treating of things of the field, -and that with their wonted simplicity. But when it is observed -(as is done several times in the course of the work) that many -of the disguised shepherds in it were shepherds only in dress, -this objection falls to the ground. The remaining objections -that might be raised as regards the invention and ordering -may be palliated by the fixed intention of him who reads, if he -will do so with discretion, and by the wish of the author, which -was to please, doing in this what he could and actually did, -achieve; for even though the work in this part do not correspond -to his desire, he offers others, yet to come, of better -taste and greater art.</p> - - -<p class="p1 center">BY LUIS GÁLVEZ DE MONTALVO.</p> - -<p class="center">T<small>O THE</small> A<small>UTHOR.</small></p> - -<p class="center"><small>SONNET</small>.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">What time thy neck and shoulders thou didst place,</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Submissive, 'neath the Saracenic yoke,</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">And didst uphold, with constancy unbroke</div> -<div class="verse">Amidst thy bonds, thy faith in God's own grace,</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a>[Pg 7]</span> -<div class="verse">Heaven rejoiced, but earth was for a space,</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Without thee, well-nigh widowed: desolate,</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Filled with lament and sadness for thy state,</div> -<div class="verse">Was left the Muses' royal dwelling-place.</div> -<div class="verse">But since that, from amidst the heathen host,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Which kept thee close, thy manly soul and tongue</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Thou didst unto thy native land restore,</div> -<div class="verse">Heaven itself of thy bright worth makes boast,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">The world greets thy return with happy song,</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">And the lost Muses Spain receives once more.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p1 center">BY DON LUIS DE VARGAS MANRIQUE.</p> -<p class="center"><small>SONNET</small>.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">In thee the sovran gods their mighty power,</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Mighty Cervantes, to the world declared.</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Nature, the first of all, for thee prepared</div> -<div class="verse">Of her immortal gifts a lavish store:</div> -<div class="verse">Jove did his lightning on his servant pour,</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">The living word that moves the rocky wall:</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">That thou in purity of style mightst all</div> -<div class="verse">With ease excel, Diana gave her dower:</div> -<div class="verse">Mercury taught thee histories to weave:</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">The strength Mars gave thee that doth nerve thine arm:</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Cupid and Venus all their loves bestowed:</div> -<div class="verse">'Twas from Apollo that thou didst receive</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Concerted song: from the Nine Sisters charm</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">And wisdom: shepherds from the woodland god.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p1 center">BY LÓPEZ MALDONADO.</p> -</div> - -<p class="center"><small>SONNET</small>.</p> - - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Out from the sea they issue and return</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Unto its bosom when their course is o'er,</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">As to the All-Mother they return once more,</div> -<div class="verse">The children who have left her long forlorn.</div> -<div class="verse">She is not lesser made whene'er they go,</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Nor prouder when their presence they restore;</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">For she remaineth whole from shore to shore,</div> -<div class="verse">And with her waters aye her pools o'erflow.</div> -<div class="verse">Thou art the sea, oh Galatea fair!</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">The rivers are thy praises, the reward</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Whereby thou winnest immortality.</div> -<div class="verse">The more thou givest to us, thou canst spare</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">The more; though all before thy feet have poured</div> -<div class="verse ileft4">Their tribute, yet thou canst not greater be.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a>[Pg 8]</span></p> -</div> - -<p class="p4 center big1">GALATEA.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>[Pg 9]</span></p> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">BOOK I.</h2> - - - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">What time unto my sad and mournful cry,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Unto the ill-tuned music of my lyre,</div> -<div class="verse">The hill and mead, the plain and stream reply</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">In bitter echo of my vain desire,</div> -<div class="verse">Then take thou, wind, that heedless hastenest by,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">The plaints which from my breast, chilled with love's fire,</div> -<div class="verse">Issue in my despite, asking in vain</div> -<div class="verse">Succour from stream and hill, from mead and plain.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">The stream is swollen by the tears which flow</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Forth from my wearied eyes: the flowery mead</div> -<div class="verse">Blooms with the brambles and the thorns that grow</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Into my soul: the lofty hill doth heed</div> -<div class="verse">Nowise my sorrows; and the plain below</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Of hearing is awearied: in my need</div> -<div class="verse">No solace, e'er so small, to assuage my ill</div> -<div class="verse">I find in stream or plain, in mead or hill.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">I thought the fire that sets the heart aflame,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Lit by the wingèd boy, the cunning net,</div> -<div class="verse">Within whose mesh he doth the gods entame,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">The strangling noose, the arrow he doth whet</div> -<div class="verse">In frenzied wrath, would wound the peerless dame</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">As me they wound, who am her slave; and yet</div> -<div class="verse">No noose nor fire hath power against a heart</div> -<div class="verse">That is of marble made, nor net nor dart.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">But lo, 'tis I who burn within the blaze,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">I waste away: before the net unseen</div> -<div class="verse">I tremble not: my neck I humbly place</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Within the noose; and of his arrow keen</div> -<div class="verse">I have no fear: thus to this last disgrace</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Have I been brought—so great my fall has been</div> -<div class="verse">That for my glory and my heart's desire</div> -<div class="verse">The dart and net I count, the noose and fire.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Thus on the banks of the Tagus sang Elicio, a shepherd on -whom nature had lavished as many gifts as fortune and love had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a>[Pg 10]</span> -withheld; though the course of time, that consumes and renews -man's handiwork, had brought him to such a pass, that he -counted for happiness the endless misfortunes in which he had -found himself, and in which his desire had placed him, for -the incomparable beauty of the peerless Galatea, a shepherdess -born on those same banks. Although brought up in pastoral -and rustic exercises, yet was she of so lofty and excellent an -understanding, that gentle ladies, nurtured in royal palaces, -and accustomed to the refined manners of the Court, counted -themselves happy to approach her in discretion as in beauty, -by reason of the many noble gifts with which Heaven had -adorned Galatea. She was loved and desired with earnest -passion by many shepherds and herdsmen, who tended their -herds by the banks of the Tagus: amongst whom the gay Elicio -made bold to love her, with a love as pure and honest, as the -virtue and modesty of Galatea allowed. It must not be thought -of Galatea that she despised Elicio, still less that she loved him: -for, at times, almost persuaded, as it were, and overcome by the -many services of Elicio, she with some modest favour would -raise him to heaven; and, at other times, without taking account -of this, she would disdain him in such wise, that the love-sick -shepherd scarce knew his lot. The excellencies and virtues -of Elicio were not to be despised, nor were the beauty, grace, -and goodness of Galatea not to be loved. On the one hand, -Galatea did not wholly reject Elicio; on the other, Elicio could -not, nor ought he to, nor did he wish to, forget Galatea. It -seemed to Galatea, that since Elicio loved her with such regard -to her honour, it would be too great an ingratitude not to reward -his modest thoughts with some modest favour. Elicio fancied -that since Galatea did not disdain his services, his desires would -have a happy issue; and, whenever these fancies revived his -hope, he found himself so happy and emboldened, that a -thousand times he wished to discover to Galatea what he kept -concealed with so much difficulty. But Galatea's discretion well -knew from the movements of his face what Elicio had in his -mind; and she gave such an expression to hers that the words -of the love-sick shepherd froze in his mouth, and he rested -content with the mere pleasure of that first step: for it -seemed to him that he was wronging Galatea's modesty in -treating of things that might in some way have the semblance -of not being so modest, that modesty itself might -take their form. With these up and downs the shepherd -passed his life so miserably that, at times, he would have -counted as gain the evil of losing her, if only he might -not feel the pain which it caused him not to win her. And -so one day, having set himself to consider his varied thoughts, -in the midst of a delightful meadow, invited by the solitude -and by the murmur of a delightful streamlet that ran through<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>[Pg 11]</span> -the plain, he took from his wallet a polished rebeck (singing -to the sound of which he was wont to communicate his -plaints to Heaven), and with a voice of exceeding beauty -sang the following verses:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Amorous fancy, gently ride</div> -<div class="verse">On the breeze if thou wouldst show</div> -<div class="verse">That I only am thy guide,</div> -<div class="verse">Lest disdain should bring thee low,</div> -<div class="verse">Or contentment fill with pride.</div> -<div class="verse">Do thou choose a mean, if fate</div> -<div class="verse">Grants thee choice amidst thy plight,</div> -<div class="verse">Neither seek to flee delight</div> -<div class="verse">Nor yet strive to bar the gate</div> -<div class="verse">'Gainst the woe of Love's dark night.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">If it be thy wish that I</div> -<div class="verse">Of my life the course should run,</div> -<div class="verse">Take it not in wrath: on high</div> -<div class="verse">Raise it not, where hope is none,</div> -<div class="verse">Whence it can but fall to die.</div> -<div class="verse">If presumption lead astray,</div> -<div class="verse">And so lofty be thine aim,</div> -<div class="verse">This at last thy course will stay:—</div> -<div class="verse">Either thou wilt come to shame,</div> -<div class="verse">Or my heart thy debts will pay.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Born therein, thy sinning lay</div> -<div class="verse">In thy birth; the guilt was thine,</div> -<div class="verse">Yet for thee the heart must pay.</div> -<div class="verse">If to keep thee I design,</div> -<div class="verse">'Tis in vain, thou fleest away.</div> -<div class="verse">If thou stayest not thy flight,</div> -<div class="verse">Wherewith thou dost mount the skies</div> -<div class="verse">(Should but fate thy fortunes blight)</div> -<div class="verse">Thou wilt plunge in deep abyss</div> -<div class="verse">Thy repose and my delight.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Who to fate, thou mayst declare,</div> -<div class="verse">Yields himself, does well: his spirit,</div> -<div class="verse">Spurring on to do and dare,</div> -<div class="verse">Not as folly but as merit</div> -<div class="verse">Will be counted everywhere.</div> -<div class="verse">To aspire so loftily,</div> -<div class="verse">Yearning thus to reach the goal,</div> -<div class="verse">Peerless glory 'tis to thee,—</div> -<div class="verse">All the more when heart and soul</div> -<div class="verse">Do with the design agree.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>[Pg 12]</span></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw15"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Thee to undeceive I seek,</div> -<div class="verse">For I understand the meaning:</div> -<div class="verse">'Tis the humble and the meek,</div> -<div class="verse">Rather than the overweening,</div> -<div class="verse">Who of Love's delights can speak.</div> -<div class="verse">Greater beauty cannot be</div> -<div class="verse">Than the beauty thou desirest;</div> -<div class="verse">Thy excuse I fail to see,</div> -<div class="verse">How it comes that thou aspirest</div> -<div class="verse">Where is no equality.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Fancy, if it hath desire</div> -<div class="verse">Something raised on high to view,</div> -<div class="verse">Looks and straightway doth retire,</div> -<div class="verse">So that none may deem it true</div> -<div class="verse">That the gaze doth thus aspire.</div> -<div class="verse">How much more doth Love arise</div> -<div class="verse">If with confidence united</div> -<div class="verse">Whence it draws its destinies.</div> -<div class="verse">But if once its hope be blighted,</div> -<div class="verse">Fading like a cloud it dies.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Thou who lookest from afar</div> -<div class="verse">On the goal for which thou sighest,</div> -<div class="verse">Hopeless, yet unto thy star</div> -<div class="verse">True,—if on the way thou diest,</div> -<div class="verse">Diest knowing not thy care.</div> -<div class="verse">Naught there is that thou canst gain,</div> -<div class="verse">For, amidst this amorous strife,</div> -<div class="verse">Where the cause none may attain,</div> -<div class="verse">Dying is but honoured life,</div> -<div class="verse">And its chiefest glory pain.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">The enamoured Elicio would not so soon have ended his -agreeable song, had there not sounded on his right hand the -voice of Erastro, who with his herd of goats was coming towards -the place where he was. Erastro was a rustic herdsman; yet -his rustic lot, out in the woods, did not so far prevail with -him as to forbid that Gentle Love should take entire possession -of his manly breast, making him love more than his life the -beauteous Galatea, to whom he did declare his plaints whenever -occasion presented itself to him. And though rustic, he was, -like a true lover, so discreet in things of love, that whenever he -discoursed thereon, it seemed that Love himself revealed them -to him, and by his tongue uttered them; yet withal (although -they were heard by Galatea), they were held of such account -as things of jest are held. To Elicio the rivalry of Erastro did -not give pain, for he understood from the mind of Galatea that -it inclined her to loftier things—rather did he have pity and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>[Pg 13]</span> -envy for Erastro: pity in seeing that he did indeed love, and -that in a quarter where it was impossible to gather the fruit of -his desires; envy in that it seemed to him that perhaps his -understanding was not such as to give room for his soul to -feel the flouts or favours of Galatea in such a way that either -the latter should overwhelm him, or the former drive him mad. -Erastro came accompanied by his mastiffs, the faithful guardians -of the simple sheep, which under their protection were safe from -the carnivorous teeth of the hungry wolves; he made sport with -them, and called them by their names, giving to each the title that -its disposition and spirit deserved. One he would call Lion, -another Hawk, one Sturdy and another Spot; and they, as if they -were endowed with understanding, came up to him and, by the -movement of their heads, expressed the pleasure which they felt -at <em>his</em> pleasure. In such wise came Erastro to where he was -amiably received by Elicio, and even asked, allowing that he -had not determined to spend the warm season of the sultry -noon-tide in any other place, since that place in which they -were was so fitted for it, whether it would be irksome to him -to spend it in his company.</p> - -<p>'With no one,' replied Erastro, 'could I pass it better than -with you, Elicio, unless indeed it were with her who is as -stubborn to my entreaties as she has proved herself a very oak -to your unending plaints.'</p> - -<p>Straightway the twain sat them down on the close-cropped -grass, allowing the herd to wander at will, blunting, with teeth -that chew the cud, the tender little shoots of the grassy plain. -And as Erastro by many plain tokens knew perfectly well that -Elicio loved Galatea, and that the merit of Elicio was of greater -carat than his own, in token that he recognised this truth, in -the midst of his converse, among other discourses addressed to -him the following:</p> - -<p>'I know not, gay and enamoured Elicio, if the love I have for -Galatea has been the cause of giving you pain, and if it has, you -must pardon me, for I never thought to offend you, nor of -Galatea did I seek aught save to serve her. May evil madness -or cruel rot consume and destroy my frisky kids and my tender -lambkins! when they leave the teats of their dear mothers, may -they not find in the green meadow aught to sustain them save -bitter colocynth and poisonous oleander, if I have not striven a -thousand times to put her from my memory, and if I have not -gone as many times more to the leeches and priests of the place, -that they might give me a cure for the anguish I suffer on her -account! Some of them bid me take all kinds of love-potions, -others tell me to commend myself to God, who cures everything, -or that it is all madness. Suffer me, good Elicio, to love -her, for you can be sure that if you, with your talents and -admirable graces and discourses, do not soften her, I shall<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>[Pg 14]</span> -scarce be able, with my simple ways, to move her to pity. -This favour I beg of you, by what I am indebted to your -deserving: for, even if you do not grant it me, it would be as -impossible to cease loving her, as to cause these waters to cease -from giving moisture, or the sun with his combed tresses from -giving us light.'</p> - -<p>Elicio could not refrain from laughing at Erastro's discourse, -and at the courtesy with which he begged of him permission to -love Galatea; and thus he replied to him: 'It does not pain -me indeed, Erastro, that you love Galatea; it pains me much to -know from her disposition, that your truthful discourses and -sincere words will be of little avail with her. May God give you -as fair success in your desires as the sincerity of your thoughts -deserve! and henceforward cease not on my account to love -Galatea; for I am not of so mean a disposition that, if fortune -fail me, I rejoice that others should not attain her. But I pray -you, by what you owe to the good-will I show you, that you -should not deny me your converse and friendship, since of mine -you can be as sure as I have declared to you. Let our herds go -united, since our thoughts go in unison. You to the sound of -your pipe will declare the pleasure or the pain which Galatea's -joyous or sorrowful countenance shall cause you, I to the sound -of my rebeck, in the silence of the stilly night, or in the heat of -the glowing noon-tide, in the cool shade of the green trees by -which this bank of ours is made so fair, will help you to carry -the heavy load of your trouble, proclaiming mine to Heaven. -And in token of our good intent and true friendship, while the -shadows of these trees grow longer, and the sun is declining -towards the west, let us tune our instruments and make a -beginning of the practice which henceforth we are to follow.'</p> - -<p>Erastro did not need asking, but with signs of supreme content -at seeing himself in such friendship with Elicio, drew forth -his pipe, and Elicio his rebeck: and, one beginning, and the -other replying, they sang what follows:</p> - - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">Ungrateful Love, thy servant thou didst place</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">In sweet, caressing, peaceful bonds the day</div> -<div class="verse">When first I saw the golden hair and face</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Of that fair sun that dimmed the sun's own ray.</div> -<div class="verse">Straightway I came to drink with eager gaze</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Love's cruel bliss, which, like a serpent, lay</div> -<div class="verse">Within the ruddy tresses; for 'twas there</div> -<div class="verse">I saw the sun, amid the clustered hair.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>RASTRO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">I stood amazed, and filled with rapturous flame,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Voiceless was I like to a flinty rock,</div> -<div class="verse">When Galatea's grace and beauty came,</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a>[Pg 15]</span> -<div class="verse ileft2">In all their loveliness my sight to mock.</div> -<div class="verse">On my left side stood Love (ah bitter shame!),</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">My love-lorn breast sustained his arrow's shock,</div> -<div class="verse">A gate was opened in me by his dart</div> -<div class="verse">Whereby the maid might come and steal my heart.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">His breast, who, wretched, follows in thy train,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Love, by what miracle dost open wide?</div> -<div class="verse">What glory from the wound doth he attain,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">The wound that thou didst deal him in his side?</div> -<div class="verse">Whence from the loss thou sendest, comes the gain?</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">And whence the joyous life when thou hast died?</div> -<div class="verse">The soul that hath endured these at thine hand</div> -<div class="verse">The cause, but not the ways can understand.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>E<small>RASTRO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">So many faces in a broken glass</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Are seen not, nor in glass formed with such art,</div> -<div class="verse">That if one looks therein, one sees to pass</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">A multitude portrayed in every part,</div> -<div class="verse">As are the cares on cares that spring, alas!</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">From that cruel care, which from my shattered heart</div> -<div class="verse">Goes not away, though conqueror in the strife,</div> -<div class="verse">Until it doth depart along with life.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">The white snow of her cheek, the crimson rose</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Which neither summer wastes nor winter's cold,</div> -<div class="verse">The sun's twain morning-stars, wherein repose</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Soft Love doth find, the spot where time untold</div> -<div class="verse">Shall guard the voice, strong to subdue our woes,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">As did hell's furies Orpheus' voice of old,</div> -<div class="verse">The many charms I saw, though blind I ween,</div> -<div class="verse">Have made me tinder for the fire unseen.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>E<small>RASTRO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">Twain apples rosy-red no tree can bear</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">As those in Galatea's cheeks displayed;</div> -<div class="verse">Iris herself could boast no bow so fair</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">As the twain archèd eye-brows of the maid,</div> -<div class="verse">Two rays of light, two threads, beyond compare,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Of pearls 'twixt scarlet:—and if more be said—</div> -<div class="verse">The peerless graces which in her I find</div> -<div class="verse">A cloud have made me to the amorous wind.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">I burn nor am consumed, I live and die,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Far from myself am I and yet so near,</div> -<div class="verse">I sink to hell, I rise to Heaven on high,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">One thing alone I hope, and yet I fear.</div> -<div class="verse">Gentle, yet fierce—for what I loathe I sigh,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">To love thee racks my soul with torment drear,</div> -<div class="verse">Thus step by step already am I come,</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a>[Pg 16]</span> -<div class="verse">Drawn in these different ways to my last doom.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>E<small>RASTRO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">Elicio, mark! how gladly would I pour</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">At Galatea's feet all that she hath left</div> -<div class="verse">To me in life, if but she would restore</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">The heart and soul whereof I am bereft.</div> -<div class="verse">My herd I would bestow, and furthermore</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">My Spot and Hawk, if she would but the theft</div> -<div class="verse">Forego: but ah! the goddess on her throne</div> -<div class="verse">More than aught else would have my soul alone.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">Erastro, mark! if once the heart on high</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Be placed by fate, or chance, or what you will,</div> -<div class="verse">To pluck it down 'twere foolishness to try</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">By force, or art, or any human skill.</div> -<div class="verse">Rejoice that she is blessed; though thou canst die</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">In truth without her, 'tis my thought that still</div> -<div class="verse">No life on earth can be more full of bliss</div> -<div class="verse">Than death for such a noble cause as this.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Erastro was already setting himself to follow on in his song -when they perceived, by a thickly wooded hillock which was at -their back, no slight clamour and sound; and, both rising to -their feet to see what it was, they saw a shepherd descending -from the mountain, running at the greatest speed in the world, -with a naked knife in his hand, and the hue of his countenance -changed, and, coming after him, another shepherd swift of foot, -who in a few strides overtook the first, and seizing him by the -collar of his skin-coat, raised his arm in the air as high as he -could, and a sharp dagger which he carried unsheathed, and -buried it twice in his body, saying:</p> - -<p>'Receive, oh ill-starred Leonida, the life of this traitor, which -I offer up in vengeance of your death.'</p> - -<p>This happened with such rapidity that Elicio and Erastro had -not the opportunity to stop him; for they came up at the time -when the stricken shepherd was already giving out his last -breath, struggling to utter these few ill-formed words:</p> - -<p>'Would that you had allowed me, Lisandro, to satisfy Heaven -with a longer repentance for the wrong I did you, and had then -taken from me the life which, for the reason I have said, now -departs from this flesh ill-content.'</p> - -<p>And without being able to say more he closed his eyes in -everlasting night. By these words Elicio and Erastro fancied -that for no small cause had the other shepherd inflicted on -him so cruel and violent a death. And the better to inform -themselves of the whole occurrence, they would fain have -inquired of the murderous shepherd; but he, with retreating -step, leaving the shepherd dead and the two wondering, -turned to go back into the hillock beyond. And when Elicio -desired to follow him, and to learn from him what he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>[Pg 17]</span> -wished, they saw him come again out of the wood, and, being -a good space distant from them, in a loud voice he said to them:</p> - -<p>'Pardon me, gentle shepherds, if I have not been gentle in -having wrought in your presence that which you have seen, for -the just and mortal rage which I had conceived against that -traitor did not permit a more moderate course on my part. -What I counsel you is, that, if you would not anger the Deity that -dwells in high Heaven, you should not offer the last rites and -accustomed prayers for the traitorous soul of that body which you -have before you, nor give it burial, if here in your country it is -not the custom to give it to traitors.'</p> - -<p>And, saying this, he turned with all speed to go into the -forest, with so much haste as to take away from Elicio the -hope of overtaking him, even though he followed him. And so -the twain with tender hearts turned to perform the pious -office, and to give burial, as best they could, to the wretched -body, which had so suddenly ended the course of its short days. -Erastro went to his hut which was not far away, and, bringing -sufficient implements, made a grave at the very spot where the -body was; and, bidding it the last farewell, they placed it therein. -Not without compassion for his hapless lot they returned to their -herds, and, collecting them again with some haste (for the sun -was already entering with all speed by the gates of the west), -betook themselves to their accustomed shelters, where neither -the comfort they felt therein, nor the little that his cares -allowed him, could keep Elicio from wondering what causes -had moved the two shepherds to come to so desperate a pass; -and already he regretted that he had not followed the murderous -shepherd, and learnt from him, if possible, what he wished. -With this thought, and with the many that his love caused -in him, after leaving his herd in a place of safety, he went out -from his hut, as was his wont at other times, and by the light of -the beauteous Diana, who showed herself resplendent in the sky, -he entered the denseness of a dense wood beyond, seeking some -solitary spot where, in the silence of the night, with greater peace -he might give rein to his amorous fancies: for it is an assured -fact that, to sad, fanciful hearts, there is no greater joy than -solitude, the awakener of sad or happy memories. And thus -going little by little, enjoying a gentle breeze which blew against -his face, full of most delicate scents, which from the scented -flowers wherewith the green earth was heaped it gently stole, -as it passed through them wrapped in the delicate air, he heard -a voice as of one who grievously complained, and checking for a -while his breath within him, so that the sound might not -hinder him from hearing what it was, he perceived that from -some thickset bramble bushes, a little way off, the mournful -voice proceeded, and though interrupted by endless sighs, he -understood that it uttered these sad words:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>[Pg 18]</span></p> - -<p>'Cowardly and craven arm, mortal enemy of that which you -owe to yourself, look, naught now remains on which to take -vengeance, save yourself! What does it profit you to prolong -the life I hold in so great abhorrence? If you think that our ill -is of those that time is wont to heal, you live deceived, for there -is nothing more remote from cure than our misfortune: seeing -that she who might have made mine pleasant, had a life so short -that, in the green years of her joyous youth, she offered it to the -blood-thirsty knife, that it might take it from her, through -the treason of the wicked Carino. He to-day, by losing his -own, will have in part appeased that blessed soul of Leonida, if, -in the heavenly region where she dwells, she can cherish desire -for any vengeance. Ah, Carino, Carino! I beseech the high -Heavens, if by them just prayers are heard, not to heed the plea, -if any you offer, for the treachery you have done me, and to -suffer that your body may lack burial, even as your soul lacked -mercy. And you, fair and hapless Leonida, receive, in token of -the love I bore you in life, the tears I shed at your death; and -put it not down to lack of feeling that I do not end my life, with -all I feel at your death: for a grief that should end so soon -would be a scant return for what I ought and wish to feel. You -will see, if you take account of things here, how this wretched -body will one day be consumed by grief, little by little, for -its greater grief and suffering: even as powder, moist and -kindled, which, without making a noise, or raising a flame on -high, is consumed in itself, without leaving of itself aught save -the traces of consumed ashes. It grieves me as much as it -can grieve me, oh soul of my soul, seeing that I could not -enjoy you in life, that in death I cannot perform for you -the last rites and honours which befitted your goodness -and virtue; but I promise to you, and swear, for the short -time—and it will be very short—that this impassioned soul -of mine shall rule the heavy burden of this wretched body, -and my weary voice have breath to form it, not to treat -aught else in my sad and bitter songs save your praises and -deserts.'</p> - -<p>At this point the voice ceased, from the sound of which Elicio -clearly perceived that it was the murderous shepherd; whereat -he was much rejoiced, because it seemed to him that he was in a -position to learn from him what he desired. And, wishing to -approach more closely, he needs must stop again, for it seemed -to him that the shepherd was tuning a rebeck, and he wished -first to hear if he should say anything to its sound. And he did -not wait long before he heard him, with gentle and tuneful voice, -singing after this wise:</p> - -<p class="p01"> L<small>ISANDRO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Blest soul, that from the veil</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>[Pg 19]</span><div class="verse ileft6">Of human life below</div> -<div class="verse">Free to the realms above didst, deathless, wing,</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Leaving as in a jail</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Of misery and woe</div> -<div class="verse">This life of mine which yet to thee did cling!</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">The bright light of the spring,</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">When thou art gone is dead,</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">And beaten to the ground</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">The hope I thought to found</div> -<div class="verse">On that firm seat where joy its radiance shed.</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Alas! when thou wert gone,</div> -<div class="verse">My life died too: naught lived save grief alone.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft6">Death claimed thee for his prey,</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">He revelled in his prize,</div> -<div class="verse">Thy loveliness beyond compare he marred;</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">He came to take away</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">The light of these mine eyes</div> -<div class="verse">Which gazed on thee and did their riches hoard.</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Swiftly beneath his sword,</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Like wax in summer's sun</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Or cloud before the wind,</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">The fancies of my mind</div> -<div class="verse">Which sprang from glorious Love have been undone.</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">The stone above thy tomb</div> -<div class="verse">Shuts in my fortune and declares my doom.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft6">How could thy brother speed</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">His cruel, ruthless hand</div> -<div class="verse">In hot revengeful purpose 'gainst thy heart?</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">How came the wicked deed</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">To tear thee from the land</div> -<div class="verse">And set thee from thy mortal veil apart?</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Why sought he with his dart</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Two lovers thus to sever?</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Our love had had no end,</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Our pathway would we wend</div> -<div class="verse">In holy wedlock hand in hand for ever.</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Command why didst thou give,</div> -<div class="verse">Cruel, scornful hand! that dying I should live?</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft6">My hapless soul shall spend</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">The days, the months, the years,</div> -<div class="verse">In sad laments that ne'er shall reach their close.</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">'Midst joys that have no end</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Thy soul shall know no fears</div> -<div class="verse">Of stubborn time—forgot for aye thy woes;</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Secure in thy repose,</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>[Pg 20]</span> -<div class="verse ileft6">The bliss thou shalt behold</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">That thy good life hath won</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Which ne'er shall be undone:</div> -<div class="verse">Him that so loved thee in remembrance hold,</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">If unto thee be given</div> -<div class="verse">To keep remembrance of the earth in Heaven.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft6">Blest, lovely soul above!</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">How foolish have I been</div> -<div class="verse">To ask that thou shouldst mind thee of thy swain;</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Who gave thee all his love.</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Eternally, I ween,</div> -<div class="verse">Shall I, if thou art kind, thus feel my pain.</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">'Twere better for my gain</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">That I should be forgot,</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">That woe should waste away</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">The life that yet doth stay,</div> -<div class="verse">That I should perish 'neath my cruel lot,</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Since in my bitter grief</div> -<div class="verse">Death's ill I count not ill, but sweet relief.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft6">Amidst the holy choir,</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Amongst the sainted dead,</div> -<div class="verse">Dear soul! enjoy the wealth of Heaven's delight,</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">That fears nor time nor fire;</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">The mercies that are shed</div> -<div class="verse">On all who flee not from the path of right.</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">I hope to reach that height,</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">To dwell with thee in bliss,</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Amidst eternal spring,</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">If to thy steps I cling</div> -<div class="verse">And know no dread nor yet the pathway miss.</div> -<div class="verse ileft6">Oh lead me to this goal!</div> -<div class="verse">For such a deed as this befits thy soul.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">And then, blest souls that dwell in Heaven, behold</div> -<div class="verse">The good that I desire,</div> -<div class="verse">Enlarge the wings of this my good desire.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Here ceased the voice, but not the sighs of the hapless swain -who had sung, and both served to increase in Elicio the desire -to know who he was. And bursting through the thorny -brambles so as to reach more quickly the spot whence the voice -proceeded, he came to a little meadow which, in the fashion of -a theatre, was girt all round with very dense and tangled -shrubs; and there he saw a shepherd who was standing in an -attitude of great vigour, with his right foot advanced and his -left behind, his right arm raised in the manner of one hoping to -make a mighty throw. And such was the truth, for at the noise -which Elicio had made in bursting through the bushes, he,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>[Pg 21]</span> -thinking it was some wild beast (against which the woodland -shepherds were forced to defend themselves), had placed himself -in a position to hurl at him a weighty stone he was holding -in his hand. Elicio, perceiving his intent by his posture, before -he could accomplish it, said to him: 'Calm your bosom, hapless -shepherd, for he who comes hither, brings a bosom ready for all -you might ask of it; desire to learn your fortune has made him -break in upon your tears, and disturb the solace which might -attend upon you in solitude.'</p> - -<p>With these gentle and courteous words of Elicio the shepherd -was calmed, and with no less gentleness replied to him, saying: -'I gratefully acknowledge your kind offer, whoever you be, -courteous shepherd; but, as for fortune, if you desire to learn -mine who never had any, you will scarce be able to have your -wish.' 'You speak true,' answered Elicio, 'since from the words -and plaints I this night have heard from you, you clearly show -the little or none that you have. But you will no less satisfy my -desire by telling me your troubles than by making known to me -your joys. May fortune give you these in what you desire, so -that you do not deny me what I beg of you, if indeed your not -knowing me do not prevent it; although I would have you -know, so as to reassure and move you, that I have not a soul so -happy as not to feel as much as it should the miseries you -would recount to me. This I tell you, for I know that nothing -is more wasted, nay thrown away, than for an unhappy man to -recount his woes to one whose heart is brimful with joys.' 'Your -kindly words,' answered the shepherd, 'compel me to satisfy -you in what you ask me, not only that you may not fancy that -from a mean and craven soul spring the complaints and -lamentations you say you have heard from me, but also that -you may realise that the feeling I show is but small as compared -with the cause I have for showing it.'</p> - -<p>Elicio thanked him heartily, and after some more courteous -words had passed between the two, Elicio giving proof that he -was a true friend of the woodland shepherd, the latter, recognising -that they were not feigned promises, granted in the end -what Elicio asked. The twain sate them down on the green -grass, covered with the splendour of the fair Diana, who could -that night rival her brother in brightness, and the woodland -shepherd, with tokens of a tender grief, began to speak in this -wise:</p> - -<p>'On the banks of the Betis, a stream exceeding rich in waters, -which enriches great Vandalia, was born Lisandro (for that is -my luckless name), and of parents so noble that I would to -Almighty God I had been begotten in a lowlier station; for -ofttimes nobility of lineage lends wings and strength to the soul -to raise the eyes to where a humble lot would never dare to raise -them, and from such boldness calamities are often wont to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>[Pg 22]</span> -spring such as you shall hear from me, if with attention you will -listen to me. In my village was also born a shepherdess, whose -name was Leonida, the sum of all the beauty which, as I fancy, -could be found in a great part of the world,—born of parents no -less noble and wealthy than her beauty and virtue deserved. -Whence it came to pass that, the parents of both being among -the chief people of the place, and the rule and government of -the village being vested in them, envy, the deadly enemy of a -peaceful life, brought about strife and mortal discord between -them over some differences concerning the administration of the -village, in such a manner that the village was divided into two -factions; the one followed that of my parents, the other that of -Leonida's, with so deep-rooted a hatred and malice that no -human effort has been able to bring about peace between them. -Fate then decreed, as though to shut out every prospect of -friendship, that I should fall in love with the fair Leonida, -daughter of Parmindro, the head of the opposite faction; and -my love was, indeed, so great that, though I strove in countless -ways to put it from my heart, they all ended in my remaining -yet more vanquished and enslaved. Before me rose a mountain -of difficulties, which hindered me from gaining the end of my -desire, such as Leonida's great worth, the inveterate enmity of -our parents, the few or no occasions which presented themselves -to me for disclosing my thoughts to her: and yet, whenever -I turned the eyes of fancy towards the rare beauty of Leonida, -every difficulty was made smooth, so that it seemed to me a -little thing to break through sharp points of adamant, that -I might reach the goal of my loving and honourable thoughts. -Having then for many days battled with myself, to see if I could -turn my soul from a design so arduous, and seeing that it was -impossible, I set all my skill on considering how I might give -Leonida to understand the secret love in my breast. And even -as, in any matter, the beginnings are always difficult, so in those -that relate to love they are for the most exceedingly difficult, -until Love himself, when he wishes to show himself favourable, -opens the gates of the remedy, where they seem most closely -barred. Thus it appeared in my case, for my thought being -guided by his, I came to fancy that no better means presented -themselves to my desire than to make friends with the parents -of Silvia, a shepherdess who was a bosom friend of Leonida, -and often they visited each other at their houses, in company -with their parents. Silvia had a kinsman called Carino, a very -close companion of Crisalvo, fair Leonida's brother, whose -boldness and harshness of manner had gained him the nickname -of cruel, and so, by all those who knew him, he was -generally called cruel Crisalvo; and in the same way they -called Carino, Silvia's kinsman and Crisalvo's companion, the -cunning Carino, from his being officious and sharp-witted.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>[Pg 23]</span> -With him and with Silvia (for it seemed to serve my purpose) -by means of many presents and gifts I forged a friendship, to -outward seeming: at least on Silvia's side it was stronger than -I desired, for the presents and favours, which with pure heart she -bestowed on me, constrained by my unceasing services, were -by my fortune taken as instruments to place me in the misery -where now I see myself. Silvia was passing fair, and adorned -with graces so many that the hardness of Crisalvo's savage -heart was moved to love her (but this I did not learn save to my -hurt); and many days later, after that from long experience -I was sure of Silvia's good-will, an opportunity offering itself one -day, in the tenderest words I could, I disclosed to her the -wound in my stricken breast, telling her that, though it was so -deep and dangerous, I did not feel it so much, only because I -thought that in her solicitude lay its cure. I informed her, too, -of the honourable goal to which my thoughts were tending, -which was to unite myself in lawful wedlock with the beauteous -Leonida; and that, since it was a cause so just and good, she -must not disdain to take it under her care. Finally, not to -weary you, love furnished me with such words to say to her, -that she, being overcome by them and more by the pain which -she, like a clever woman, recognised from the signs of my face -as dwelling in my soul, determined to take charge of my cure, -and to tell Leonida what I felt for her, promising to do for me -all that her power and skill might achieve, even though -such an undertaking was fraught with difficulties for her, -by reason of the great enmity she knew to exist between -our parents; though, on the other hand she thought -that it might put an end to their differences, if Leonida -were to marry me. Moved then by this good intention, and -softened by the tears I shed, as I have said before, she dared to -intercede on behalf of my happiness, and, discussing with -herself how she would approach Leonida, she made me write -her a letter, which she offered to give her at the moment she -thought fitting. Her counsel seemed to be for my good, and -that same day I sent her a letter, which I have always known -by heart, as having been the beginning of the happiness I felt -at the reply to it, though it would be better not to remember -happy things at a time so sad as that in which I now find myself. -Silvia received the letter, and awaited the opportunity for -placing it in Leonida's hands.'</p> - -<p>'Nay,' said Elicio, interrupting Lisandro's discourse, 'it is not -right that you should fail to repeat to me the letter you sent to -Leonida, for, seeing that it was the first, and that you were so -deeply in love at that time, it must undoubtedly be eloquent. -And since you have told me that you know it by heart, and -of the pleasure you obtained from it, do not now withhold it from -me by not repeating it.'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a>[Pg 24]</span></p> - -<p>'You say well, my friend,' replied Lisandro, 'for I was then -as deeply in love and timid as now I am unhappy and despairing; -and, on that account, it seems to me that I did not succeed in -uttering any eloquent words, though it was sufficient success that -Leonida should believe those which were in the letter. Since -you wish so much to hear them, it ran as follows:</p> - - -<p class="p1 center">L<small>ISANDRO TO</small> L<small>EONIDA.</small></p> - -<p>"So long as I have been able (though with very great grief to -myself) to resist with my own strength the amorous flame which -for you, fair Leonida, consumes me, fearful of the exalted worth -which I recognise in you, I have never had the boldness to -discover to you the love I bear you; but now that the virtue, which -up till now has made me strong, is consumed, it has become -necessary for me to disclose the wound in my breast, and thus, -by writing to you, to make trial of the first and last remedy in -your power. What the first may be, you know, and to be the -last is in your hand, from which I hope for the pity that your -beauty promises, and my honourable desires merit. What they -are, and the goal to which they tend, you shall learn from -Silvia, who will give you this: and since she has been so bold, -being who she is, as to bring it to you, know that they are as -honourable as is due to your merit".'</p> - -<p>The words of this letter did not seem bad to Elicio, and -Lisandro, continuing the story of his love, said:</p> - -<p>'Many days did not pass before this letter came into the fair -hands of Leonida, by means of the kindly hands of Silvia, my -true friend. In giving it, she told her such things that she -largely assuaged the rage and emotion which Leonida had felt -at my letter, such as telling her how good it would be if through -our marriage the enmity of our parents were to cease, and that -an object so well meant should lead her not to reject my desires; -all the more as it should not be compatible with her beauty -to allow one who loved her as much as I to die, without -more consideration; adding to these other reasonings, which -Leonida recognised as just. But, so as not to show herself -vanquished in the first encounter, and won in the first advance, -she did not give to Silvia as pleasant a reply as she wished. -But still, at the intercession of Silvia, who forced her to it, she -replied with this letter which I shall now repeat to you:</p> - - -<p class="p1 center">L<small>EONIDA TO</small> L<small>ISANDRO.</small></p> - -<p>"If I had thought, Lisandro, that your great daring had sprung -from my lack of modesty, I would have carried out on myself the -punishment that your fault deserves; but as what I know of -myself makes me sure on this point, I have come to the conclusion -that your great boldness has proceeded more from idle<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25"></a>[Pg 25]</span> -thoughts, than from thoughts of love; and though they may be -as you say, think not that you can move me to cure them, as you -did Silvia to believe them. I complain more of her for having -made me answer you, than of you who dared to write to me, for -silence had been fit answer to your folly. If you draw back -from your purpose, you will act wisely, for I would have you -know that I deem my honour of more account than your empty -thoughts."</p> - -<p>This was Leonida's reply, which, together with the hopes that -Silvia gave me, though it seemed somewhat harsh, made me -count myself the happiest man on earth. Whilst these matters -were passing between us, Crisalvo did not neglect to woo Silvia -with countless messages, gifts and services; but so hard and -severe was Crisalvo's disposition that he could never move -Silvia to grant him the smallest favour. Whereat he was as -desperate and impatient as a bull when speared and vanquished. -For the sake of his love he had formed a friendship with the -cunning Carino, Silvia's kinsman, though these two had first -been mortal enemies, for in a wrestling-bout, which on a great -feast-day the deftest swains of the place held before all the -village, Carino was vanquished by Crisalvo, and mauled: so -that he conceived in his heart undying hatred for Crisalvo, and -no less was the hatred he felt against another person, a brother -of mine, for having thwarted him in a love-affair, in which my -brother carried off the fruit Carino hoped for. This rancour -and ill-will Carino kept secret till time disclosed to him the -opportunity when he might avenge himself on both at once, in -the cruellest way imaginable. I kept friends with him, so that -admission to Silvia's house might not be denied me; Crisalvo -adored him, so that he might further his designs with Silvia; -and his friendship was such that whenever Leonida came to -Silvia's house, Carino accompanied her: wherefore it seemed -good to Silvia to tell him, since he was my friend, of my love-affair -with Leonida, which was by this time prospering with such -ardour and good fortune, through Silvia's good offices, that we -now awaited but the time and place to cull the honourable fruit -of our pure desires. On hearing of this, Carino used me as an -instrument to commit the greatest treason in the world. For -one day (feigning to be true to Crisalvo, and giving him to -understand that he rated his friendship higher than his kinswoman's -honour), he told him that the chief reason why Silvia -did not love or favour him, was that she was in love with me; -he knew it unmistakably, and our love-affair was going on so -openly that if he had not been blinded by his amorous passion -he would by now have perceived it from a thousand signs; and -the more to assure himself of the truth he was telling him, he -bade him look to it henceforward, for he would see clearly how -Silvia without any restraint granted me exceptional favours. At<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"></a>[Pg 26]</span> -this news Crisalvo must have been quite beside himself, as -appeared from what followed therefrom. Henceforward he -employed spies to watch my dealings with Silvia; and as on -many occasions I sought to be alone with her, in order to speak -not of the love he thought, but of things concerning mine, these -were reported to Crisalvo, together with other favours prompted -by pure friendship, which Silvia showed me at every step. -Whereat Crisalvo came to so desperate a pass, that many times -he sought to kill me, though I did not think it was for such -a cause, but on account of the long-standing enmity of our -parents. But as he was Leonida's brother, I was more concerned -to guard myself than to harm him, thinking it certain that if I -married his sister our enmities would have an end. Of this he -was quite ignorant, thinking rather that, because I was his -enemy, I had sought to make love to Silvia, and not because I -was really fond of her; and this increased his anger and resentment -to such a degree that it robbed him of reason, though he -had so little that little was needed to destroy it. And this evil -thought wrought so strongly in him, that he came to loath -Silvia as much as he had loved her, merely because she favoured -me, not with the good-will he thought, but as Carino told him. -And so, in whatever circle or assembly he was, he spoke ill of -Silvia, giving her dishonourable names and epithets. But as all -knew his ugly character and Silvia's goodness, they lent little or -no belief to his words. Meanwhile Silvia had arranged with -Leonida that we two should be married, and, in order that it -might be done with more safety to ourselves, that it would be well -for Leonida, one day when she came with Carino to her house, -not to return that night to that of her parents, but to go thence -in Carino's company to a village half a league distant from ours, -where some rich kinsmen of mine lived, in whose house we -could with greater peace effect our designs. For if Leonida's -parents were not pleased at the issue, it would at least be easier, -when she was away from them, to come to terms. This resolve -having been taken, Carino was informed of it, and, displaying -the greatest spirit, offered to Silvia to escort Leonida to the other -village as she desired. The services I did to Carino for the -good-will he showed, the promises I uttered to him, the embraces -I gave him, would methinks have sufficed to extinguish in a heart -of steel any evil purpose it might cherish against me. But that -traitor of a Carino, casting behind him my words, deeds and -promises, without regarding what he owed himself, planned the -treason which now you shall hear. Having informed himself of -Leonida's wish, and seeing that it agreed with what Silvia had -told him, he planned that on the first night which from the -appearance of the day promised to be dark, Leonida's departure -should be effected, offering once more to maintain all possible -secrecy and loyalty. After making this agreement which you<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"></a>[Pg 27]</span> -have heard, he went off to Crisalvo, as I have since learnt, and -told him that his kinswoman Silvia had gone so far in her love-affair -with me, that I had determined on a certain night to steal -her from her parents' house, and take her to another village where -my kinsmen dwelt. There an opportunity offered itself to avenge -his feelings on both, on Silvia for the small account she had -made of his services, on me for our long-standing enmity, and -for the injury I had done him in robbing him of Silvia, since she -was leaving him on my account alone. Carino knew how to -exaggerate to him, and to say what he wanted, in such a way -as, even with less effort, would have moved to any evil purpose a -heart not so cruel as his. The day being now arrived which I -thought was to be the day of my greatest bliss, after having told -Carino not what he actually did do, but what he was to do, I -went off to the other village to give orders how to receive -Leonida. And to leave her entrusted to Carino was like leaving -the innocent lamb in the power of the hungry wolves, or the -gentle dove in the claws of the fierce hawk, who tears it to -pieces. Ah, friend! when I come to this point with my imagination, -I know not how I have strength to sustain life, nor thought -to think of it, much more tongue to tell it! Ah, ill-advised -Lisandro! How did you not know Carino's duplicity? Yet, -who would not have trusted his words, since he risked so little in -proving them true by deeds! Ah, ill-starred Leonida! how -little did I know how to enjoy the favour you did me, in choosing -me for your own! Finally, to end with the tragedy of my -misfortune, you must know, discreet shepherd, that on the night -Carino was to take Leonida with him to the village where I -was expecting her, he summoned another shepherd, called -Libeo, who ought to have considered him an enemy, though -Carino concealed it beneath his wonted false dissimulation, and -asked him to accompany him that night, for he was resolved to -carry off a shepherdess, his sweetheart, to the village I have -told you, where he purposed to marry her. Libeo, a man of -spirit and a lover himself, readily offered him his company. -Leonida bade farewell to Silvia with close embraces and loving -tears, an omen, as it were, that it was to be the last farewell. -The hapless maid must needs have thought then of the treason -she was committing against her parents; not of that Carino -was planning against her,—and how bad a return she was -making for the good opinion that was held about her in the -village. But, passing over all these thoughts, constrained by -the loving thought that vanquished her, she entrusted herself to -the care of Carino, who was to conduct her to where I awaited -her. How often do I call to mind when I reach this point, -what I dreamed the day I would have counted fortunate, had the -number of my days ended thereon! I remember that, leaving -the village a little while before the sun withdrew his rays from<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"></a>[Pg 28]</span> -our horizon, I sate me down at the foot of a tall ash tree on the -very road by which Leonida was to come, waiting till night -should close in a little more to further my purpose and to -receive her, and without knowing how or wishing it, I fell asleep. -Scarce had I yielded my eyes to slumber when, methought, the -tree against which I leaned, bending before the fury of a fierce -wind that was blowing, tearing its deep roots out of the earth, -fell upon my body, and attempting to get away from the heavy -weight, I rolled from side to side. While in this plight -methought I saw a white hind beside me, which I earnestly -implored to lift, as well as it could, the heavy burden from my -shoulders, and when moved with compassion, it was about to do -it, at the same moment a fierce lion sprang from the thicket, and -seizing it in his sharp claws, marched off with it through the -forest. After I had escaped with great toil from the heavy -burden, I went to look for it in the mountain, and found it torn -and wounded in a thousand places. Whereat I felt so much -grief that my soul was wrung from me merely by reason of the -pity it had shown at my plight: and thus I began to weep in -my dreams, so that the tears themselves awoke me, and finding -my cheeks bathed with sorrow I was beside myself, pondering -on what I had dreamed; but in the joy I hoped to have in -seeing my Leonida, I failed to see then that fortune was showing -me in dreams what was to happen in a short time to me awake. -At the moment when I awoke night had just closed in with such -darkness, with such terrible thunder and lightning as furthered -the perpetration of the cruel deed which that night was perpetrated. -As Carino left Silvia's house with Leonida, he -entrusted her to Libeo, telling him to go with her by the road -to the village I have mentioned, and though Leonida was perturbed -at seeing Libeo, Carino assured her that Libeo was no -less a friend of mine than he was, and that in security she could -go with him slowly whilst he went forward to give me tidings -of her approach. The guileless maid, being after all in love, -believed the words of the treacherous Carino, and with less -mistrust than was fitting, guided by the courteous Libeo, -advanced her timid steps, which were to be the last of her life, -thinking they led her to the height of her bliss. Carino went -on before the two, as I have already told you, and gave information -of what was happening to Crisalvo, who with four of his -kinsmen was in ambush on the very road by which they were -to pass, this being wholly shut in by forest on either side. He -told them how Silvia was coming and I was the only one with -her, and that they should rejoice at the good opportunity fate -put in their hands to avenge the wrong we two had done him, -and that he should be the first to prove the edge of his knife on -Silvia, though she was a kinswoman of his. Immediately the -five cruel butchers prepared to stain themselves in the innocent<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"></a>[Pg 29]</span> -blood of the pair who came along the road all unsuspicious of -such treason; when they reached the place where the ambush -was, at once the traitorous murderers were on them, and -surrounded them. Crisalvo came up to Leonida, thinking she -was Silvia, and with insulting and excited words, in the hellish -rage which mastered him, left her stretched on the ground with -six mortal wounds, whilst Libeo weltered on the earth with -countless stabs dealt by the other four, who thought they were -inflicting them on me. When Carino saw how well his -traitorous intent had turned out, without awaiting words, he -went away, and the five traitors, fully satisfied as if they had -done some notable exploit, returned to their village. Crisalvo -went to Silvia's house himself to give her parents the news -of what he had done, so as to increase their grief and pain, -telling them to go and bury their daughter Silvia, whose life he -had taken because she had set more store on the cold esteem of -Lisandro his enemy, than on the unremitting attentions shown -by him. Silvia, who heard what Crisalvo was saying,—her soul -telling her what had happened, told him that she was alive, and -free too from all that he had accused her of; and that he should -be sure he had not killed one whose death would grieve him -more than the loss of his own life. And with this she told him -that his sister Leonida had that night left her house in unwonted -apparel. Crisalvo was amazed to see Silvia alive, thinking for -sure that he had left her dead, and being suddenly seized with -great fear, immediately hastened to his house, and not finding -his sister there, returned alone in the greatest consternation and -frenzy to see who it was he had killed, since Silvia was alive. -Whilst all this was going on, I was awaiting Carino and Leonida -with strange anxiety; and as it seemed to me that by this time -they were later than they should be, I wished to go and meet -them, or learn if by any accident they had been detained that -night. I had not gone far along the road when I heard a piteous -voice saying: "Oh sovereign Maker of Heaven, withhold the -hand of thy justice and open that of thy mercy in order to show -mercy to this soul, which soon shall give account to thee of the -offences it has committed against thee! Ah Lisandro, Lisandro! -surely Carino's friendship will yet cost you your life, since it cannot -be that grief for my having lost mine for your sake will put an end -to it! Ah, cruel brother, can it be that without hearing my -excuses you desired to inflict on me so soon the punishment of my -error?" When I heard these words, I at once recognised from -the voice and from them that it was Leonida who uttered them, -and—an augury of my misfortune—with feelings in a turmoil, I -set to groping where Leonida was weltering in her own blood; and, -having at once recognised her, I let myself fall on her wounded -body, and with the greatest grief possible, said to her: "What -woe is this, my joy, my soul? what cruel hand was it that did not<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"></a>[Pg 30]</span> -respect so much beauty?" At these words I was recognised by -Leonida; and raising her weary arms with much effort, she -threw them round my neck, and, pressing with all her strength, -she joined her mouth to mine, and, with weak and broken -utterance, spoke but these words to me: "My brother has killed -me, Carino ... betrayed, Libeo is without life, and may God -give you yours, Lisandro mine, for long and happy years, and -may he grant that I enjoy in another life the peace denied me -here;" and, joining her mouth closer to mine, she pressed -her lips together to give me her first and last kiss; and, as she -opened them, her soul went from her, and she lay dead in my -arms. When I perceived it, I abandoned myself to grief over -her body, and remained senseless; and if, instead of being alive, -I had been dead, whoever saw us in that plight had called to -mind the hapless plight of Pyramus and Thisbe. But on coming -to myself, I had opened my mouth to fill the air with cries and -sobs, when I perceived someone coming with hurried steps to -where I was; and, when he was near, though the night was dark, -the eyes of my soul gave me assurance that he who came there -was Crisalvo, as was the truth. He was coming back to convince -himself whether perchance it was his sister Leonida he had -killed. When I recognised him, before he could guard himself -against me, I came upon him like a raging lion; and, giving him -two blows, I brought him to the ground. Before he ceased to -breathe, I dragged him to where Leonida was, and, placing in -her dead hand the dagger her brother wore—the same with -which she had been killed—I guided it and plunged it thrice -through his heart. And mine being somewhat consoled by -Crisalvo's death, without further delay I took upon my shoulders -Leonida's body, and bore it to the village where my kinsmen -lived. Telling them what had happened, I asked them to give -it honourable burial, and immediately determined to take on -Carino the same vengeance as on Crisalvo; but, since he has -kept away from our village, it has been delayed until to-day, -when I found him on the skirts of this wood, after going about in -search of him for six months. Now he has come to the end his -treason deserved; and none now is left on whom to wreak -vengeance, unless it be the life I endure so much against my -will. This, shepherd, is the cause whence proceed the laments -you have heard from me. If it seems to you sufficient to -cause yet a deeper grief, I leave to your good judgment to -determine!'</p> - -<p>Therewith he ended his discourse, and set to weeping so -copiously that Elicio could not refrain from keeping him company -therein; but after they had for a long while eased with -gentle sighs, the one the pain he suffered, the other the -compassion he felt thereat, Elicio began to console Lisandro -with the best arguments he knew, though his misfortune was as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31"></a>[Pg 31]</span> -far beyond consolation as he had seen from its issue. Amongst -other things he said to him, the one which gave Lisandro most -solace was to tell him that in misfortunes beyond remedy, the -best remedy was to hope for none; and, since one might believe -from Leonida's purity and noble disposition, according to his -account, that she was enjoying a life of bliss, he should rather -rejoice at the happiness she had gained, than grieve for that -which she had lost. Whereto Lisandro replied:</p> - -<p>'I know full well, my friend, that your arguments have power to -make me believe they are true; but not that they have—nor will -all the arguments in the world have—power to give me any -consolation. With Leonida's death began my evil fortune, -which will end when I behold her again; and since this cannot -be without I die, the man who should help me to attain death -will I count the greatest friend of my life!'</p> - -<p>Elicio did not wish to give him more sorrow with his words of -solace, since he did not regard them as such; only he asked him -to come with him to his hut, where he might stay as long as it -pleased him, offering him his friendship in all wherein he might be -able to serve him. Lisandro thanked him as heartily as possible; -and though he was unwilling to consent to go with Elicio, yet -he had to do so, constrained by his repeated asking. And so -the two arose, and came to Elicio's cabin, where they rested for -the little that remained of the night. Now when the white dawn -was leaving the couch of her jealous husband, and beginning to -give signs of the coming day, Erastro arose and began to put -in order Elicio's herd and his own to lead them to the accustomed -pasture. Elicio invited Lisandro to come with him; and -so, when the three shepherds came with their gentle flock of -sheep through a ravine below, on ascending an incline, they -heard the sound of a gentle pipe, which was straightway -recognized by the two enamoured swains, Elicio and Erastro, -for it was Galatea who was playing it. And it was not long -before some sheep began to show themselves over the crest -of the hill, and immediately behind them Galatea, whose beauty -was such that it were better to leave it to speak for itself, -since words fail to enhance it. She came dressed like a girl -of the mountains, with her long hair free to the wind, whereof -the sun himself appeared to be envious, for, smiting it with -his rays, he sought to rob it of lustre if he could; but that -which came from the glimmer of it seemed another new sun. -Erastro was beside himself looking at her, and Elicio could not -keep his eyes from gazing at her. When Galatea saw the flock -of Elicio and Erastro join hers, she showed that she did not wish -that day to keep them company, and called to the pet lamb of -her flock, which the rest followed, and directed it to another -spot, different from that for which the shepherds were making. -Elicio, seeing what Galatea was doing, and being unable to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32"></a>[Pg 32]</span> -endure such open contempt, came to where the shepherdess was -and said to her:</p> - -<p>'Permit your flock, fair Galatea, to come with ours, and, if you -do not like our company, choose that which will please you -better, for your sheep will not, through your absence, lack good -pasturage, since I, who was born to serve you, will take more -care of them than of my own. Do not seek to disdain me so -openly, for the pure affection I cherish towards you does not -deserve it. According to the way you were taking, you were -making for the spring of slates, but, now you have seen me, you -wish to change your road; and, if this is as I think, tell me -where you wish, to-day and always, to graze your herd, for I -swear to you never to take mine there.'</p> - -<p>'I assure you, Elicio,' replied Galatea, 'that it was not to shun -your company or that of Erastro that I have changed the way -you think I was taking, for my intention is to spend the noon-tide -of to-day by the stream of palms, in the company of my -friend Florisa, who is awaiting me there, for as early as -yesterday we two agreed to graze our flocks there to-day. As -I came along, heedlessly playing my pipe, the pet lamb took -the road of slates, as more accustomed for it. For the affection -you bear me and the offers you make me I thank you, and -count it no small thing that I have justified myself against -your suspicion.'</p> - -<p>'Ah, Galatea!' replied Elicio, 'how well you invent what -seems good to you, though you have so little need to use stratagem -with me, for after all I do not seek to wish more than you -wish! Now, whether you go to the stream of palms, to the -wood of council, or to the spring of slates, be assured that you -cannot go alone, for my soul accompanies you always; and, -if you do not see it, it is because you do not wish to see it, so -that you may not be obliged to heal it.'</p> - -<p>'Until now,' said Galatea, 'I have yet to see my first soul, and -so I am not to blame if I have healed none.'</p> - -<p>'I do not know how you can say that, fair Galatea,' replied -Elicio, 'since you see them to wound them, and not to heal them.'</p> - -<p>'You accuse me falsely,' replied Galatea, 'in saying that I -have wounded anyone without arms, seeing that these are not -granted to women.'</p> - -<p>'Ah, discreet Galatea,' said Elicio, 'how you jest at what you -perceive of my soul, which you have invisibly wounded, and with -no other arms than those of your beauty! I do not so much -complain of the wrong you have done me, as that you hold it in -little account.'</p> - -<p>'I would hold myself in less account, if I held it in more,' -replied Galatea.</p> - -<p>At this moment Erastro came up, and, seeing that Galatea was -going off and leaving them, said to her:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33"></a>[Pg 33]</span></p> - -<p>'Where are you going, whom do you flee, fair Galatea? If -you part from us who adore you, who shall hope for your company? -Ah fair foe! how heedlessly you go your way, triumphing -over our affections! May Heaven destroy the warm affection I -bear you, if I do not long to see you in love with some one who -may value your plaints in the same degree as you value mine! -Do you laugh at what I say, Galatea? Then I weep at what you -do.'</p> - -<p>Galatea could not answer Erastro, for she was going away, -guiding her flock towards the stream of palms; and bowing her -head from afar in token of farewell, she left them. When she -saw herself alone, whilst she was making for the spot where her -friend Florisa thought she would be, with the exquisite voice -Heaven had pleased to give her, she went along singing this -sonnet:</p> - - -<div class="p01">G<small>ALATEA.</small></div> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p>Away with noose and frost, with dart and fire,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em; ">Whereby to strangle, freeze, or wound or burn,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em; ">Love doth essay! 'Tis vain: my soul doth yearn</span><br /> -For no such knot, nor doth such flame desire.<br /> -Let each bind, freeze, kill, press, consume in ire,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em; ">'Gainst any other will its anger turn,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em; ">But mine shall snow or net or arrow spurn,</span><br /> -To hold me in its heat let none aspire.<br /> -My chaste intent will chill the burning flame,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em; ">The knot I shall break through by force or art,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em; ">My glowing zeal will melt away the snows,</span><br /> -The arrow shall fall blunted by my shame,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em; ">And thus nor noose nor fire, nor frost nor dart,</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 2em; ">Shall make me fear, safe in secure repose.</span></p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">With juster cause might beasts stand still, trees move and -stones unite on hearing Galatea's gentle song and sweet harmony -than when to Orpheus' lute, Apollo's lyre, or Amphion's music -the walls of Troy and Thebes of their own accord set themselves -in the ground without any craftsman laying hand thereon, and -the sisters, dark dwellers in deepest chaos, grew gentle at the -exquisite voice of the unheeding lover. Galatea finished her -song, and at the moment came to where Florisa was, by whom -she was received with joyous mien, as being her true friend, and -she to whom Galatea was wont to tell her thoughts. After the -two had allowed their flocks to go at their will to graze on -the green grass, they determined, invited by the clearness of the -water of a stream flowing by, to wash their beauteous faces; for, -to enhance their beauty, they had no need of the vain and irksome -arts whereby those ladies in great cities who think themselves -most beautiful, torture theirs. They remained as beautiful after -washing as before, save that, through having rubbed their faces -with their hands, their cheeks remained aflame and blushing-red,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34"></a>[Pg 34]</span> -so that an indescribable beauty made them yet more fair, and -especially Galatea. In her were seen united the three Graces -whom the Greeks of old depicted naked to show (amongst other -purposes) that they were mistresses of beauty. Straightway they -began to gather divers flowers from the green meadow with -intent to make each a garland wherewith to bind up the disordered -tresses that flowed freely over their shoulders. In this -task the two beauteous shepherdesses were engaged when of a -sudden they saw, by the stream below, a shepherdess coming of -gentle grace and bearing, whereat they wondered not a little, for -it seemed to them that she was not a shepherdess of their village -nor of the others near by: wherefore they looked at her with -more attention and saw that she was coming gradually to where -they were; and though they were quite near, she came so -absorbed and lost in thought that she never saw them until they -chose to show themselves. From time to time she stopped, and -raising her eyes to Heaven, uttered sighs so piteous that they -seemed to be torn from her innermost soul; at the same time she -wrung her white hands, and tears like liquid pearls she let fall -down her cheeks. From the extremes of grief the shepherdess -displayed Galatea and Florisa perceived that her soul was filled -with some inward grief, and to see on what her feelings were set, -both hid themselves amongst some close-grown myrtles, and -thence watched with curious gaze what the shepherdess was -doing. She came to the brink of the stream, and with steadfast -gaze stopped to watch the water running by; and letting -herself fall on its bank, as one wearied, she hollowed one -of her fair hands, and therein took up of the clear water, -wherewith she bathed her moist eyes, saying with voice low -and enfeebled:</p> - -<p>'Ah water clear and cool, how little avails your coldness to -temper the fire I feel in my soul! Vain will it be to hope from -you—or indeed from all the waters the mighty ocean holds—the -remedy I need; for if all were applied to the glowing passion -that consumes me, you would produce the same effect as do a -few drops on the glowing forge which but increase the flame the -more. Ah, sad eyes, cause of my ruin! to how lofty a height -did I raise you for so great a fall! Ah fortune, enemy of my -repose! with what haste didst thou hurl me from the pinnacle -of my joy to the abyss of misery wherein I am! Ah cruel sister! -how came it that Artidoro's meek and loving presence did not -appease the anger of your breast devoid of love? What words -could he say to you that you should give him so harsh and cruel -a reply? It seems clear, sister, that you did not esteem him as -much as I; for, if it were so, you would in truth have shown as -much meekness as he obedience to you.'</p> - -<p>All that the shepherdess said she mingled with such tears, -that no heart could listen to her and not be moved to com<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35"></a>[Pg 35]</span>passion; -and after she had calmed her sorrowing breast for a -while, to the sound of the water gently flowing by, she sang with -sweet and dainty voice this gloss, adapting to her purpose an -ancient verse:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<p><em>Hope hath fled and will not stay<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">One thought only brings delight:</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Time that passes swift of flight</span><br /> -Soon my life will take away.</em></p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Two things, all the world among,</span><br /> -Help the lover to attain<br /> -All that doth to Love belong:<br /> -E'en desire the good to gain,<br /> -Hope that makes the coward strong.<br /> -Both within my bosom lay.<br /> -No, 'twas in my stricken soul<br /> -That they lurked to take away<br /> -My desire to reach the goal.<br /> -<em>Hope hath fled and will not stay.</em></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Though desire should cease to be,</span><br /> -What time hope is on the wane,<br /> -Yet 'tis not the same in me.<br /> -My desire doth wax amain,<br /> -Though my hope away doth flee.<br /> -'Gainst the wounds my soul that blight<br /> -I can take nor care nor thought,<br /> -Martyr to my hapless plight,<br /> -In the school where Love hath taught,<br /> -<em>One thought only brings delight</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Scarce the blessing from on high</span><br /> -Had unto my fancy come,<br /> -When, as gently they passed by,<br /> -Heaven, fate, and bitter doom,<br /> -With it from my soul did fly.<br /> -Whoso for my grievous plight<br /> -Fain would mourn, let him strike sail,<br /> -Into the haven of delight<br /> -Glide more gently 'fore the gale<br /> -<em>Than Time that passes swift of flight</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who that hath such woe as mine</span><br /> -Would not faint beneath his fate?<br /> -From such woes we may divine<br /> -Joy to be a featherweight,<br /> -Sorrow lead from deepest mine.<br /> -Though my fortune be not gay,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36"></a>[Pg 36]</span><br /> -Though I falter to my knees,<br /> -Yet this blessing is my stay:<br /> -He who robbed me of my peace<br /> -<em>Soon my life will take away</em>.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Soon the shepherdess ended her song, but not the tears which -made it more sad. Moved to compassion thereby, Galatea and -Florisa came out from where they lay concealed, and with loving -and courteous words greeted the sad shepherdess, saying to her -among other things:</p> - - -<p>'So may Heaven, fair shepherdess, show itself favourable to -what you would ask of it, and so may you obtain from it what -you desire, if you tell us (allowing that it be not displeasing to -you), what fortune or what destiny has brought you to this region, -for, according to the experience we have of it, we have never -seen you on these banks. Now that we have heard what you -have just sung, gathering from it that your heart has not the -calm it needs, and by reason of the tears you have shed, of -which your lovely eyes gave witness, in the name of fair courtesy -we are bound to give you all the solace in our power; and if -your evil be of those that do not permit of consolation you will -at least perceive in us a good will to serve you.'</p> - -<p>'I know not, fair maidens,' replied the strange shepherdess, -'how I shall be able to repay you save by silence for the courteous -offers you make me, unless by saying no more about it, and -being grateful for it, and valuing them as much as they deserve -it, and by not withholding from you what you wish to learn from -me, although it would be better for me to pass by in silence the -circumstances of my misfortunes, than to tell them and give you -cause to count me immodest.'</p> - -<p>'Your countenance and the gentle bearing that Heaven has -given you,' replied Galatea, 'do not betoken an intellect so -coarse as to make you do a thing in telling which afterwards -you must needs lose reputation; and since your appearance -and words have in so short a time made this impression -on us, that we already count you discreet, prove to us, by -telling us your life, whether your misfortune comes up to -your discretion.'</p> - -<p>'As far as I believe,' replied the shepherdess, 'both are on a -level, unless, indeed, fate has given me more judgment, the more -to feel the griefs that present themselves; but I am quite sure -that my woes exceed my discretion, in the same degree as -all my craft is overcome by them, since I have none wherewith -to cure them. And that experience may set you right, if -you wish to hear me, fair maidens, I will tell you, in as few words -as possible, how, from the great understanding you judge I -possess, has sprung the woe which surpasses it.'</p> - -<p>'With nothing will you better satisfy our desires, discreet<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37"></a>[Pg 37]</span> -maiden,' replied Florisa, 'than with telling us what we have -asked you.'</p> - -<p>'Let us retire, then,' said the shepherdess, 'from this spot, -and seek another, where, without being seen or disturbed, I may -be able to tell you what it grieves me to have promised you, for -I foresee that it will not cost more to lose the good opinion I -have gained with you, than to reveal my thoughts to you, however -late, if perhaps yours have not been touched by the -affliction I am suffering.'</p> - -<p>Desirous that the shepherdess should fulfil her promise, -straightway the three arose, and betook themselves to a secret -and retired place, known already to Galatea and Florisa, where, -beneath the pleasant shade of some leafy myrtles, without being -seen by anybody, all three could be seated. Forthwith, with -exquisite grace and charm, the strange shepherdess began to -speak in this wise:</p> - -<p>'On the banks of the famous Henares, which ever yields fresh -and pleasant tribute to your golden Tagus, most beauteous shepherdesses, -was I born and nurtured in a station not so lowly, that -I might count myself the meanest of the village. My parents -are labourers and accustomed to field-labour, in which occupation -I followed them, leading a flock of simple sheep over the -common pastures of our village. So well did I adapt my -thoughts to the condition in which my lot had placed me, that -nothing gave me more joy than to see my flock multiply and -increase, and I had no other thought save how to gain for them -the richest and most fertile pastures, the clearest and freshest -waters I could find. I had not, nor could I have, cares beyond -those that might arise from the rustic duties on which I was -engaged. The woods were my companions, in whose solitude, -ofttimes invited by the sweet birds' gentle harmony, I sent forth -my voice in a thousand simple songs, without mingling therein -sighs or words that might give any token of a love-sick breast. -Ah! how often, merely to please myself and to allow the time -to pass away, did I wander from bank to bank, from vale to -vale, culling, here the white lily, there the purple iris, here the -red rose, there the fragrant pink, making from every kind of -sweet-smelling flowers a woven garland, wherewith I adorned -and bound up my hair; and then, viewing myself in the clear -and peaceful waters of some spring, I remained so joyous at -having seen myself, that I would not have changed my happiness -for any other! And how often did I make sport of some -maidens, who, thinking to find in my breast some manner of -pity for the misery theirs felt, disclosed to me, with abundance -of tears and sighs, the love-secrets of their soul! I remember -now, fair shepherdesses, that one day there came to me a girl -friend of mine: throwing her arms round my neck, and joining -her face to mine, she said to me with streaming eyes: "Ah,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38"></a>[Pg 38]</span> -sister Teolinda!" (for this is the name of the hapless being -before you). "I truly believe the end of my days has come, -since love has not dealt with me as my desires deserved." -Whereupon I, wondering at her display of grief, thinking that -some great misfortune had befallen her, in the loss of her flock, -or the death of her father or brother, wiped her eyes with the -sleeve of my smock, and asked her to tell me what misfortune -it was that caused her to lament so much. She, continuing her -tears, nor giving truce to her sighs, said to me: "What greater -misfortune, oh Teolinda, would you have happen to me, than -that the son of the chief man in our village, whom I love more -than the very eyes in my head, should have gone away without -saying a word to me; and that I have this morning seen in -possession of Leocadia, daughter of the head shepherd Lisalco, -a crimson belt which I had given to that false Eugenio, whereby -was confirmed the suspicion I had of the love-affair the -traitor was carrying on with her?" When I ceased hearing -her complaints, I swear to you, friends and ladies mine, that -I could not cease from laughing within myself, and saying to -her: "By my faith, Lydia," (for so the unhappy girl was called) -"I thought from your complaints that you came stricken with -another and a greater wound. But now I know how void of -sense are you who fancy yourselves in love, in making much ado -about such childish things. Tell me on your life, dear Lydia, -what is the worth of a crimson belt, that it should grieve you to -see it in Leocadia's possession or to find that Eugenio has given -it to her? You would do better to consider your honour and -what concerns the pasturage of your sheep, and not to mix -yourself up with these fooleries of love, since we draw nothing -from them, so far as I see, but loss of honour and of peace." -When Lydia heard from me a reply so contrary to the one -she hoped for from my lips and pitying disposition, she did -nothing but bow her head, and adding tear to tear and sob to -sob, went from me; and after a little while, turning her head, -she said to me: "I pray God, Teolinda, that soon you may see -yourself in a state, compared to which you would count mine -happy, and that love may so treat you that you may tell your -grief to one who will value it and feel it in such wise as you have -done mine;" and therewith she went away, and I was left laughing -at her madness. But ah! poor me! I perceive clearly at -every moment that her curse is working in me, since even now -I fear that I am telling my grief to one who will sorrow but -little at having learnt it!'</p> - -<p>Thereto Galatea replied: 'Would to God, discreet Teolinda, -that you might find a remedy for your loss as easily as you will -find in us pity for it, for you would soon lose the suspicion you -cherish of our sympathy.'</p> - -<p>'Your lovely presence, sweet shepherdesses, and pleasant con<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39"></a>[Pg 39]</span>verse,' -replied Teolinda, 'make me hope so; but my poor fortune -compels me to fear the contrary. Yet, come what may, I must -now tell you what I have promised you. With the freedom I -have told you, and in the pursuits I have related to you, I passed -my life so joyously and peacefully that desire knew not what to -bid me do, until avenging love came to exact from me a strict -account for the small account in which I held him, wherein he -vanquished me in such a way that though I am his slave I fancy -that he is not yet paid nor satisfied. It happened then, that one -day (which would have been for me the happiest of the days of -my life, had not time and season brought such a decrease to my -joys), I went with other shepherdesses of our village to cut -branches and gather rushes and flowers and green sword-lilies -to adorn the temple and streets of our native place; for the -following day was a most high festival, and the inhabitants of -our hamlet were bound by vow and promise to keep it. We -chanced to pass all together through a delightful wood -which is situated between the village and the river, where we -found a group of graceful shepherds, who were spending -the heat of the glowing noon-tide in the shade of the green -trees. When they saw us, we were at once recognised by -them, for they were all cousins or brothers or kinsmen -of ours, and coming to meet us and learning from us the -purpose we had in view, they persuaded and constrained us -with courteous words not to go farther, for that some of them -would fetch the branches and flowers for which we were going. -And so, being overcome by their prayers—they were so earnest—we -granted their desire, and forthwith six of the youngest, -equipped with their bill-hooks, went off in great glee to bring us -the green spoils we sought. We girls (there were six of us) went -to where the other shepherds stood; and they received us with all -courtesy, especially a strange shepherd who was there, known -to none of us, who was of such noble grace and spirit that all -stood wondering on seeing him, but I stood wondering and overcome. -I know not what to tell you, shepherdesses, save that as -soon as my eyes beheld him, I felt my heart grow tender and -there began to course through all my veins a frost that set me -aflame, and without knowing why, I felt my soul rejoice to have -set eyes on the handsome face of the unknown shepherd; and, in -a moment, though I was inexperienced in the ways of love, I -recognised that it was love that had stricken me; straightway had -I wished to make my plaint of him, if time and circumstances -had permitted. In short I then remained as now I am, overcome -and filled with love, though with more hope of recovery -than I now possess. Ah! how often in that hour did I long to -go to Lydia, who was with us, and say to her: "Forgive me, Lydia -dear, for the discourteous reply I gave you the other day, for I -would have you know that now I have more experience of the woe<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40"></a>[Pg 40]</span> -you complained of than you yourself!" One thing fills me with -wonder, how all the maidens there failed to see from the workings -of my face the secrets of my heart, and the cause of this must -have been that all the shepherds turned to the stranger and -begged him to finish the singing of a song he had begun before -we came up. He, without waiting to be pressed, continued the -song he had begun, with so exquisite and marvellous a voice -that all who listened to it were transported at hearing it. Then -at last I yielded myself all in all to all that love demanded, -without there being left in me more desire than if I had never -had any for anything in my life. And, although I was more -entranced than all on hearing the shepherd's sweet melody, yet -I did not fail to lend the greatest attention to what he sang in -his verses; for love had already brought me to such a pass -that it would have touched me to the soul, had I heard him -singing a lover's themes, since I would have fancied that his -thoughts were already engaged, and perchance in a quarter -where mine might have no share in what they desired. But -what he then sang was nothing but praises of the shepherd's lot -and the peaceful life of the fields, and some useful counsels for -the preservation of the flock; whereat I was not a little pleased; -for it seemed to me that if the shepherd had been in love, he -would have treated of naught but his love, since it is the way of -lovers to think time ill-spent which is spent on aught save -extolling and praising the cause of their griefs or joys. Mark, -friends, in how short a space I became mistress in the school of -love. The end of the shepherd's song and the first sight of those -who came with the branches occurred at the same moment; -and the youths, to one who saw them from afar, looked for all -the world like a little hillock moving along trees and all, as they -came in staid procession covered with branches. As they came -near us, the six all raised their voices, and, one beginning and -all replying, with tokens of the greatest joy and with many merry -shouts, began a graceful chant. Amidst this joy and happiness -they came nearer than I wished, for they deprived me of the -happiness I felt at the sight of the shepherd. When they had -laid down their green burden, we saw that each had a lovely -garland entwined round his arm, composed of various charming -flowers, which with graceful words they presented, one to each -of us, offering to carry the branches to the village; but we, full -of joy, thanked them for their fair courtesy and wished to return -to the village, when Eleuco, an old shepherd who was there, -said to us: "It will be well, fair shepherdesses, that you should -repay us for what our youths have done for you by leaving us the -garlands you are taking away over and above what you came to -seek; but it must be on condition that you give them to whomsoever -you think fit, with your own hands." "If you will be -satisfied by so small a return from us," replied one of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41"></a>[Pg 41]</span> -maidens, "I for my part am content," and taking the garland -with both hands placed it on the head of a gallant cousin of hers. -The others, guided by this example, gave theirs to different -youths who were there, all of them their kinsmen. I who -remained to the last, and had no kinsman there, affecting a certain -indifference, went up to the strange shepherd and placed the garland -on his head, saying to him: "For two reasons I give you this, -fair youth, one, for the pleasure you have given us all by your -charming song, the other, because in our village it is our custom -to honour strangers." All the bystanders were delighted with my -action, but how can I tell you what my soul felt when I saw -myself so near to him who had stolen it away? I can only say -that I would have given any happiness I could have wished for -at that moment (save that of loving him), to be able to encircle -his neck with my arms as I encircled his brows with the garland. -The shepherd bowed to me and with well-chosen words thanked -me for the favour I did him, and as he took his leave of me, stealing -the opportunity from the many eyes that were there, with low -voice said to me: "I have rewarded you, fair shepherdess, better -than you think, for the garland you have given me; you take a -pledge with you, and if you know how to value it, you will -perceive that you remain my debtor." I would gladly have -answered him, but such was the haste my companions imposed -on me that I had no chance of replying to him. In this wise I -returned to the village with a heart so different from that wherewith -I had set out that I myself marvelled at myself. Company -was irksome to me, and every thought that came to me and did -not tend to thinking of my shepherd, with much haste I strove -forthwith to put away from my mind as unworthy to occupy the -place that was full of loving cares. I know not how in so short -a time I became changed into a being other than that of old; -for I no longer lived in myself but in Artidoro (for such is the -name of the half of my soul I go seeking). Wherever I turned -my eyes, I seemed to see his face; whatever I heard, straightway -his gentle music and melody sounded in my ears; nowhere -did I move my feet but I had given my life, if he had desired it, -to find him there; in food I did not find the wonted savour nor -did my hands succeed in finding aught to give it. In a word, all -my senses were changed from their former state, nor did my -soul work through them as it was used to do. In the consideration -of the new Teolinda who was born within me, and in the contemplation -of the shepherd's grace that remained imprinted on -my soul, all that day passed away from me, and the night preceding -the solemn festival; and when this came, it was celebrated -with the greatest rejoicing and enthusiasm by all the inhabitants -of our village and of the neighbouring places. After the sacred -offerings in the temple were ended and the ceremonies due -performed, well-nigh most of the people of the hamlet came to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42"></a>[Pg 42]</span>gether -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">in a broad square before the temple, beneath the shade</span><br /> -of four ancient leafy poplars which were therein, and all forming a -circle, left a space for the youths from near and far to disport -themselves in honour of the festival in various pastoral games. -Straightway on the instant a goodly number of fit and lusty -shepherds showed themselves in the square, and giving joyous -tokens of their youth and skill, began a thousand graceful games. -Now they tossed the heavy caber, now they showed the lightness -of their supple limbs in unwonted leaps, now they revealed their -great strength and dexterous craft in complicated wrestling -bouts, now they proved the swiftness of their feet in long races, each -one striving so to acquit himself in all that he might win the first -prize out of the many the chief men of the village had offered for -the best who should excel in such sports; but in these I have mentioned, -and in many others which I pass by so as not to be tedious, -none of all the neighbours or men of the district present achieved -as much as my Artidoro, who chose by his presence to honour -and gladden our festival, and to carry off the highest honour and -prize in all the games that were held. Such, shepherdesses, was -his skill and spirit, so great the praises all gave him, that I grew -proud, and an unwonted joy revelled in my breast at the mere -reflection that I had known to fill my thoughts so well. But -despite this it gave me very great grief that Artidoro, being a -stranger, would have soon to depart from our village; and, if he -went away without at least knowing what he took from me—that -is, my soul—what a life would be mine in his absence, or how -could I forget my sorrow, at least by lamenting, since I had no -one to complain of save myself? Whilst I was occupied with -these fancies, the festival and rejoicing ended; and when Artidoro -would have taken leave of the shepherds, his friends, they -all joined in asking him to spend with them the eight remaining -days of the festival, if nothing more pleasing prevented it. -"Nothing can give me greater pleasure, kind shepherds," replied -Artidoro, "than to serve you in this and all else that your wish -may be; for although it was my wish now to go and seek a -brother of mine, who has for a few days been missing from our -village, I will fulfil your desire, since it is I who gain thereby." -All thanked him greatly, and were pleased at his remaining; -but I was more so, thinking that in those eight days an opportunity -could not fail to present itself to me, when I might reveal -to him what I could no longer conceal. We spent nearly all -that night in dances and games, and in telling one another the -feats we had seen the shepherds perform that day, saying: "Such -a one danced better than such a one, though so and so knew -more turns than so and so; Mingo threw Bras, but Bras ran -better than Mingo;" and finally, all came to the conclusion that -Artidoro, the strange shepherd, bore off the palm from all, each -one praising in detail his graces one by one; and all these<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43"></a>[Pg 43]</span> -praises, I have already said, redounded to my delight. When -the morning of the day after the festival came, before fresh dawn -lost the pearly dew from her lovely locks, and the sun had fully -displayed his rays on the peaks of the neighbouring mountains, -some twelve of us shepherdesses, the most admired of the village, -came together, and, linking hands, to the sound of a flageolet -and a bagpipe, weaving and unweaving intricate turns and dance-movements, -we went from the village to a green meadow not far -away, giving great pleasure to all who saw our mazy dance. -And fortune, which so far was guiding my affair from good to -better, ordained that in that same meadow we should find all the -shepherds of the place, and Artidoro with them. When they -saw us, straightway attuning the sound of a tabor they had to -that of our pipes, they came forth to meet us with the same -measure and dance, mingling with us in bewildering but well-ordered -maze; and as the instruments changed their note, we -changed the dance, so that we shepherdesses had to unlink and -give our hands to the shepherds; and my good fortune willed -that I should chance to give mine to Artidoro. I know not, my -friends, how to describe fully to you what I felt at such a -moment, unless by telling you that I was so perturbed, that -I failed to keep fitting step in the dance; so much so that -Artidoro was obliged to draw me violently after him, in order -that the thread of the measured dance might not be broken if -he let me go. Seizing the opportunity for it, I said to him: -"Wherein has my hand offended you, Artidoro, that you press -it so hard?" He replied in a voice that could be heard by -none: "Nay, what has my soul done to you that you use it so -ill?" "My offence is clear," I replied gently; "but for yours, -neither do I see it, nor will it be seen." "This is just the mischief," -replied Artidoro, "that you can see your way to do evil, -but not to cure it." Herewith our discourse ended, for the -dancing ended, and I remained happy and thoughtful at what -Artidoro had said to me; and though I thought they were -loving words, they did not convince me that they came from -one in love. Straightway we all, shepherds and shepherdesses, -sate down on the green grass; and when we had rested a while -from the fatigue of the dances that were over, the aged Eleuco, -attuning his instrument, which was a rebeck, to the pipe of -another shepherd, asked Artidoro to sing something, for he -should so rather than any other, since Heaven had bestowed -such talent on him that it were ingratitude to wish to conceal it. -Artidoro, thanking Eleuco for the praises he gave him, straightway -began to sing some verses; and I fixed them in my -memory, since the words he had spoken to me before had -given me a suspicion, so that even now I have not forgotten -them. Though it may be irksome to you to hear them, I shall -have to repeat them to you, only because they are needful for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44"></a>[Pg 44]</span> -you to understand, stage by stage, through what stages love has -brought me to the pass in which I find myself. They are as -follows:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wild, close-confined and gloomy be his night,</span><br /> -Never may he behold the longed-for day,<br /> -Incessant and unending be his woe,<br /> -Far, far away from bliss, and joy, and laughter,<br /> -Ought he to be, wrapt in a living death,<br /> -Whoso without sweet Love shall spend his life.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Full though it be of joyousness, yet life</span><br /> -Naught save the shade can be of briefest night,<br /> -The veritable counterfeit of death,<br /> -If during all the hours that fill the day<br /> -It doth not silence every pang of woe,<br /> -And gladly, gladly welcome Love's sweet laughter.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Where liveth gentle Love, there liveth laughter,</span><br /> -And where Love dieth, dieth too our life,<br /> -Our choicest pleasure is transformed to woe,<br /> -Into the darkness of eternal night<br /> -Is changed the radiance of the peaceful day,<br /> -Life without Love is naught but bitter death.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Dangers wherein the issue is but death</span><br /> -The lover doth not flee: rather with laughter<br /> -He seeks his chance and longeth for the day,<br /> -When he may offer up his treasured life—<br /> -Until he shall behold the last calm night—<br /> -Unto Love's flame, and unto Love's sweet woe.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The woe that is of Love, we call not woe,</span><br /> -Nor yet the death that Love bestoweth, death:<br /> -Let none to Love's night give the name of night,<br /> -Nor call Love's laughter by the name of laughter.<br /> -His life alone can be accounted life,<br /> -Our only merriment his joyous day.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh blest, thrice-blest to me this happy day,</span><br /> -Whereon I can restrain my bitter woe,<br /> -Rejoicing that I have bestowed my life<br /> -On her who can bestow or life or death!<br /> -What will it be, what can I hope save laughter<br /> -From that proud face that turns the sun to night?</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Love hath my cloudy night to cloudless day</span><br /> -Transformed, to laughter my increasing woe,<br /> -And my approaching death to length of life.</p> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">These were the verses, fair shepherdesses, which my Artidoro -sang that day with wondrous grace and no less pleasure on the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45"></a>[Pg 45]</span> -part of those that heard him. From them, and from the words -he had spoken to me before, I took occasion to consider if by -chance the sight of me had caused some new sensation of love -in Artidoro's breast; and my suspicion did not turn out so vain, -but that he himself justified it to me on our return to the village.'</p> - -<p>Teolinda had reached this point in the tale of her love, when -the shepherdesses heard a great uproar of shepherds shouting -and dogs barking. This caused them to end the discourse they -had begun, and to stop and observe through the branches what -it was; in this way they saw a pack of hounds crossing a green -plain on their right hand, in pursuit of a timid hare, that was -coming with all speed to take shelter in the dense underwood. -It was not long before the shepherdesses saw it coming to the -same place where they were, and going straight to Galatea's -side. There, overcome by the fatigue of its long course, and -almost as it were safe from the peril nigh at hand, it sank down -on the ground with such wearied breath, that it seemed on the -point of breathing its last. The hounds pursued it by scent and -track, until they came to where the shepherdesses were; but -Galatea, taking the timid hare in her arms, checked the vengeful -purpose of the eager hounds, for it seemed to her not to be -right to fail to defend a creature that had sought her aid. Soon -after there approached some shepherds, following the hounds -and the hare; and amongst them came Galatea's father, out of -respect for whom Florisa, Teolinda and she went out to meet -him with due courtesy. He and the shepherds were filled with -wonder at Teolinda's beauty, and desired to know who she was, -for they saw clearly that she was a stranger. Galatea and -Florisa were not a little annoyed at their approach, seeing that -it had robbed them of the pleasure of learning the issue of -Teolinda's love; and they asked her to be good enough not to -leave their company for some days, if the accomplishment of -her desires were not by chance hindered thereby.</p> - -<p>'Nay, rather,' replied Teolinda, 'it suits me to remain a day -or two on this bank, to see if they can be accomplished; and on -this account, as also not to leave unfinished the story I have -begun, I must do what you bid me.'</p> - -<p>Galatea and Florisa embraced her, and offered her their -friendship anew, and to serve her to the best of their power. -Meanwhile Galatea's father and the other shepherds, having -spread their cloaks on the margin of the clear stream, and -drawn from their wallets some country fare, invited Galatea and -her companions to eat with them. They accepted the invitation, -and, sitting down forthwith, they sated their hunger, which was -beginning to weary them as the day was already far spent. In -the course of these doings, and of some stories the shepherds -told to pass the time, the accustomed hour approached for -returning to the village. Straightway Galatea and Florisa,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"></a>[Pg 46]</span> -returning to their flocks, collected them once more, and, in the -company of fair Teolinda and the other shepherds, gradually -made their way to the hamlet; and at the break of the hill where -that morning they had happened on Elicio, they all heard the -pipe of the unloving Lenio, a shepherd in whose breast love -could never take up his abode; and thereat he lived in such joy -and content, that in whatever converse or gathering of shepherds -he found himself, his sole intent was to speak ill of love and -lovers, and all his songs tended to this end. By reason of this -strange disposition of his, he was known by all the shepherds in -all those parts, and by some he was loathed, by others held in -esteem. Galatea and those who came there stopped to listen, -to see if Lenio was singing anything, as was his wont, and -straightway they saw him give his pipe to a companion, and -begin to sing what follows to its sound:</p> - -<p class="p01">L<small>ENIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw30"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">An idle careless thought that wanders free,</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">A foolish vaunting fancy of the mind,</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">A something that no being hath nor kind,</div> -<div class="verse">Nor yet foundation, nursed by memory,</div> -<div class="verse">A grief that takes the name of jollity,</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">An empty hope that passes on the wind,</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">A tangled night where none the day may find,</div> -<div class="verse">A straying of the soul that will not see.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> - -<div class="verse">These are the very roots wherefrom, I swear,</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">This old chimera fabled hath its birth,</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">Which beareth o'er the world the name of Love.</div> -<div class="verse">The soul that thus on Love doth set its care,</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">Deserveth to be banished from the earth,</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">And win no shelter in the heavens above.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">At the time that Lenio was singing what you have heard, -Elicio and Erastro had already come up with their flocks in the -company of the hapless Lisandro; and Elicio, thinking that -Lenio's tongue in speaking ill of love went beyond what was -right, wished clearly to show him his error, and, adopting the -very theme of the verses he had sung, at the moment Galatea, -Florisa, Teolinda and the other shepherds came up, to the sound -of Erastro's pipe he began to sing in this wise:</p> - -<div class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></div> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Whosoever keepeth Love,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">In his breast a prisoner close,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Hurl him down from heaven above,</div> -<div class="verse">Give him not on earth repose.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Love a virtue is unending,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Virtues many more attaining,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Semblance after semblance gaining,</div> -<div class="verse">To the primal cause ascending.</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47"></a>[Pg 47]</span> -<div class="verse">Whosoever from such love,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Shall be banished by his woes;</div> -<div class="verse">Hurl him down from heaven above,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Grant him not on earth repose.</div> -</div> - - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A fair form, a lovely face,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Though but mortal, doomed to fade,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Are but copies, where portrayed</div> -<div class="verse">We may see the heavenly grace.</div> -<div class="verse">Grace on earth who doth not love,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Nor to it allegiance owes,</div> -<div class="verse">Shall be hurled from heaven above,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Nor on earth shall find repose.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Love, when taken quite apart,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">And untainted with alloy,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Filleth all the world with joy,</div> -<div class="verse">Even as Apollo's dart,</div> -<div class="verse">Whoso hath mistrust of Love,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Love that hides its blessing close,</div> -<div class="verse">Shall not win to heaven above,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">But in deepest earth repose.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">For a thousand joys a debtor,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Each of us to Love is seen,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">For 'tis Love that turns, I ween,</div> -<div class="verse">Bad to good, and good to better.</div> -<div class="verse">He who lets his fancies rove,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">E'en a hair's breadth from Love's woes,</div> -<div class="verse">Shall not win to heaven above,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Nor on earth find sure repose.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Love indeed is infinite,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">If but honour be its stay;</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">But the love that dies away</div> -<div class="verse">Is not love, but appetite.</div> -<div class="verse">Whoso shall the veil of love</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Raise not, but his heart shall close,</div> -<div class="verse">Slay him, lightning from above!</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Earth, permit him not repose!</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">The shepherds given to love felt no small pleasure at seeing -how well Elicio defended his view: but the loveless Lenio did -not on this account cease to remain firm in his opinion; nay, -rather, he sought anew to resume his song and to show in what -he sang how ineffectual Elicio's reasonings were to darken the -bright truth which, following his judgment, he upheld. But -Galatea's father, who was called Aurelio the venerable, said -to him:</p> - -<p>'Don't weary yourself for the present, discreet Lenio, in seek<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48"></a>[Pg 48]</span>ing -to show us in your song what you feel in your heart, for the -road from here to the village is short, and it seems to me more -time is needed than you think to defend yourself against the -many who hold a view contrary to yours. Keep your reasonings -for a more convenient spot, for some day you and Elicio with -other shepherds will be together at the spring of slates or the -stream of palms, where, with greater ease and comfort, you may -be able to discuss and make clear your different opinions.'</p> - -<p>'The opinion Elicio holds is mere opinion,' replied Lenio, 'but -mine is absolute knowledge, and proved, which, sooner or later, -forced me to uphold it, seeing that it carried truth with it; but, -as you say, there will not fail a time more fitting for this end.'</p> - -<p>'This will I arrange,' answered Elicio, 'for it grieves me that -so fine an intellect as yours, friend Lenio, should lack what -might improve it and enhance it, like the pure and true love whose -enemy you show yourself.'</p> - -<p>'You are deceived, Elicio,' replied Lenio, 'if you think by -specious words and sophisms to make me change principles I -would not hold it manly to change.'</p> - -<p>'It is as wrong,' said Elicio, 'to persist in wrong, as it is good -to persevere in good, and I have always heard my elders say it -is the part of the wise to take counsel.'</p> - -<p>'I do not deny that,' answered Lenio, 'whenever I see that -my judgment is not correct; but so long as experience and -reason do not show me the contrary to what they have shown -me hitherto, I believe that my opinion is as true as yours is false.'</p> - -<p>'If the heretics of love were to be punished,' said Erastro at -this point, 'I would begin from this moment, friend Lenio, to -cut wood wherewith to burn you for the greatest heretic and -enemy that love has.'</p> - -<p>'And even though I saw naught of love, save that you, -Erastro, follow it, and are of the band of lovers,' replied Lenio, -'that alone would suffice to make me renounce it with a hundred -thousand tongues, if a hundred thousand I had.'</p> - -<p>'Do you think then, Lenio,' answered Erastro, 'that I am not -fit to be a lover?'</p> - -<p>'Nay,' replied Lenio, 'I think that men of your disposition -and understanding are fitted to be among love's servants; for -he who is lame falls to the ground at the slightest stumble, and -he who has little wisdom, wants but little time to lose it all; -and as for those who follow the banner of this your valorous -captain, I for my part hold that they are not the wisest in the -world; and if they have been, they ceased to be it, the moment -they fell in love.'</p> - -<p>Great was the displeasure Erastro felt at what Lenio said, and -thus he answered him:</p> - -<p>'I think, Lenio, your insane reasonings deserve another -punishment than words; but I hope that some day you will pay<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49"></a>[Pg 49]</span> -for what you have just said, without being aided by what you -might say in your defence.'</p> - -<p>'If I knew of you, Erastro,' answered Lenio, 'that you were -as brave as you are fond, your threats would not fail to fill me -with dread: but, as I know you are as backward in the one, as -in the other you are to the fore, they cause laughter in me rather -than terror.'</p> - -<p>Here Erastro lost all patience, and if it had not been for -Lisandro and Elicio, who placed themselves between, he had -replied to Lenio with his fists; for by this time his tongue, confused -with rage, could scarce perform its office. Great was the -pleasure all felt at the sprightly quarrel of the shepherds, and -more at the rage and displeasure Erastro displayed; for it was -necessary that Galatea's father should make peace between -Lenio and him, though Erastro, if it had not been for fear of -losing the respect of his lady's father, would in no way have -made it. As soon as the matter was ended, all with rejoicing -went their way to the village, and whilst they were going, the -fair Florisa, to the sound of Galatea's pipe, sang this sonnet:</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="p01">F<small>LORISA.</small></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">With increase may my tender lambs be crowned</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Amidst the grassy mead or forest's fold:</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Throughout the summer's heat or winter's cold</div> -<div class="verse">May herbage green and cooling streams abound.</div> -<div class="verse">May I through all my days and nights be found</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Wrapt but in dreamings of a shepherd's life;</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">In no wise yielding to Love's petty strife,</div> -<div class="verse">Nor may his childish acts have power to wound.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Here one Love's countless blessings doth proclaim,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Love's fruitless cares another maketh known.</div> -<div class="verse">I cannot say if both be brought to shame,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Nor yet to whom to give the victor's crown.</div> -<div class="verse">This much I know: that many Love by name</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">May call, yet few are chosen for his own.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Short indeed was the road to the shepherds, beguiled and -entertained by the charming voice of Florisa, who ceased not her -song till they were quite near the village and the huts of Elicio -and Erastro, who stopped there with Lisandro, first taking leave -of the venerable Aurelio, Galatea, and Florisa, who went with -Teolinda to the village, the remaining shepherds going each to -where he had his hut. That same night the hapless Lisandro -asked leave of Elicio to return to his country or to where he -might, in harmony with his desire, finish the little of life that, -as he thought, remained to him. Elicio with all the arguments -he could urge on him, and with the endless offers of true -friendship he made him, could by no means prevail on him -to remain in his company even for a few days; and so the luckless -shepherd, embracing Elicio with many tears and sighs, took -leave of him, promising to inform him of his condition wherever -he might be. Elicio, having accompanied him half a league -from his hut, again embraced him closely; and making again -fresh offers, they parted, Elicio being in great grief for what -Lisandro suffered. And so he returned to his hut to spend the -greater part of the night in amorous fancies and to await the -coming day that he might enjoy the happiness the sight of -Galatea caused him. And she, when she reached her village, -desiring to learn the issue of Teolinda's love, arranged so that -Florisa, Teolinda and she might be alone that night; and finding -the opportunity she desired, the love-sick shepherdess -continued her story as will be seen in the second book.</p> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50"></a>[Pg 50]</span> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">BOOK II.</h2> - - -<p>Being now free and relieved from what they had to do that -night with their flocks, they arranged to retire and withdraw -with Teolinda to a spot where they might, without being hindered -by anyone, hear what was lacking of the issue of her love. And -so they betook themselves to a little garden by Galatea's house; -and, the three seating themselves beneath a stately green vine -which entwined itself in an intricate manner along some wooden -network, Teolinda repeated once more some words of what she -had said before and went on, saying:</p> - -<p>'After our dance and Artidoro's song were ended, as I have -already told you, fair shepherdesses, it seemed good to all of us -to return to the village to perform in the temple the solemn rites, -and because it likewise seemed to us that the solemnity of the -feast in some way gave us liberty; but not being so punctilious -as to seclusion, we enjoyed ourselves with more freedom. -Wherefore we all, shepherds and shepherdesses, in a confused -mass, with gladness and rejoicing returned to the village, -speaking each with the one who pleased him best. Fate, and -my care, and Artidoro's solicitude also ordained that, without any -display of artifice in the matter, we two kept apart from the rest -in such a manner that on the way we might safely have said -more than what we did say, if each of us had not respected what -we owed to ourselves and to each other. At length I said to -him, to draw him out, as the saying goes: "The days you have -spent in our village, Artidoro, will be years to you, since in your -own you must have things to occupy you which must give you -greater pleasure." "All that I can hope for in my life," replied -Artidoro, "would I exchange, if only the days I have to spend -here might be, not years, but centuries, since, when they come -to an end, I do not hope to pass others that may give me greater -joy." "Is the joy you feel so great," I replied, "at seeing our -festivals?" "It does not arise from this," he answered, "but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51"></a>[Pg 51]</span> -from regarding the beauty of the shepherdesses of your village." -"In truth," I retorted, "pretty girls must be wanting in yours." -"The truth is that they are not wanting there," he replied, "but -that here there is a superabundance, so that one single one I -have seen is enough for those of yonder place to count themselves -ugly compared to her." "Your courtesy makes you say -this, oh Artidoro," I replied, "for I know full well that in this -hamlet there is no one who excels so much as you say." "I -know better that what I say is true," he answered, "since I have -seen the one and beheld the others." "Perhaps you beheld her -from afar, and the distance between," said I, "made you see a -different thing from what it really was." "In the same way," he -replied, "as I see and am beholding you now, I beheld and saw -her. Happy should I be to have been mistaken, if her disposition -does not agree with her beauty." "It would not grieve -me to be the one you say, for the pleasure she must feel who -sees herself proclaimed and accounted beautiful." "I would -much rather that you were not," replied Artidoro. "Then what -would you lose," I answered, "if instead of not being the one you -say, I were?" "What I have gained, I know full well," he -replied, "as to what I have to lose, I am doubtful and in fear." -"You know well how to play the lover, Artidoro," said I. "You -know better how to inspire love, Teolinda," he replied. Thereon -I said to him, "I do not know if I should tell you, Artidoro, that -I wish neither of us to be deceived." Whereto he replied, "I -am quite sure that I am not deceived, and it is in your hands to -seek to undeceive yourself as often as you seek to make trial of -the pure desire I have to serve you." "I will reward you for -that," I answered, "with the same desire; for it seems to me -that it would not be well to remain indebted to anybody where -the cost is so small." At this moment, without his having a -chance to reply to me, the head-shepherd Eleuco came up, -saying in a loud voice: "Ho, gay shepherds and fair shepherdesses, -make them hear our approach in the village, you -singing some chant, maidens, so that we can reply to you, in -order that the people of the hamlet may see how much we who -are on our way here, do to make our festival joyous." And -because in nothing that Eleuco commanded did he fail to be -obeyed, straightway the shepherds beckoned to me to begin; -and so, availing myself of the opportunity, and profiting by what -had passed with Artidoro, I commenced this chant:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whosoever by much striving</span><br /> -Would the perfect lover be<br /> -<em>Honour needs and secrecy</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wouldst thou seek with heart elate</span><br /> -Love's sweet joy to reach aright,<br /> -Take as key to thy delight<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52"></a>[Pg 52]</span><br /> -Honour, secrecy as gate.<br /> -Who thereby would enter straight,<br /> -Wise and witty though he be<br /> -<em>Honour needs and secrecy</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whoso loveth human beauty,</span><br /> -With reproach is oft confounded,<br /> -If his passion be not bounded<br /> -By his honour and his duty:<br /> -And such noble love as booty<br /> -Winneth every man, if he<br /> -<em>Honour have and secrecy</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Everyone this truth hath known,</span><br /> -And it cannot be denied,<br /> -That speech oft will lose the bride<br /> -Whom a silent tongue hath won,<br /> -And he will all conflict shun<br /> -Who a lover is, if he<br /> -<em>Honour have and secrecy</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Chattering tongues, audacious eyes,</span><br /> -May have brought a thousand cares,<br /> -May have set a thousand snares<br /> -For the soul, and so it dies.<br /> -Whoso would his miseries<br /> -Lessen, and from strife be free,<br /> -<em>Honour needs and secrecy</em>.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">'I know not, fair shepherdesses, if in singing what you have -heard I succeeded; but I know very well that Artidoro knew -how to profit by it, since all the time he was in our village, -though he often spoke to me, it was with so much reserve, -secrecy, and modesty that idle eyes and chattering tongues -neither had nor saw aught to say that might be prejudicial to -our honour. But in the fear I had that, when the period -Artidoro had promised to spend in our village was ended, he -would have to go to his own, I sought, though at the cost of my -modesty, that my heart should not remain with the regret of -having kept silence on what it were useless to speak afterwards, -when Artidoro had gone. And so, after my eyes gave leave -for his most beauteous eyes to gaze on me lovingly, our tongues -were not still, nor failed to show with words what up till then the -eyes had so clearly declared by sign. Finally, you must know, -friends, that one day when I found myself by chance alone with -Artidoro, he disclosed to me, with tokens of an ardent love and -courtesy, the true and honourable love he felt for me; and -though I would have wished to play the reluctant prude, yet, -because I was afraid, as I have already told you, that he would -go, I did not wish to disdain him nor to dismiss him, and also -because it seemed to me that the lack of sympathy, inspired<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53"></a>[Pg 53]</span> -or felt at the beginning of a love-affair, is the reason why those -who are not very experienced in their passion, abandon and -leave the enterprise they have begun. Wherefore I gave him -answer such as I desired to give him. We agreed in the resolve -that he should repair to his village, and a few days after -should by some honourable mediation send to ask me in -marriage from my parents; whereat he was so happy and -content that he did not cease to call the day fortunate on which -his eyes beheld me. As for me, I can tell you that I would not -have changed my happiness for any other that could be -imagined; for I was sure that Artidoro's worth and good -qualities were such that my father would be happy to receive -him as a son-in-law. The happy climax you have heard, -shepherdesses, was the climax of our love, for only two or three -days remained before Artidoro's departure, when fortune, as -one who never set bounds to her designs, ordained that a -sister of mine, a little younger than I, should return to our -village from another where she had been for some days, in the -house of an aunt of ours who was ill. And in order that you -may see, ladies, what strange and unthought-of chances happen -in the world, I would have you know a fact which I think will -not fail to cause in you some strange feeling of wonder: it is -that this sister of mine I have told you of, who up till then -had been away, resembles me so much in face, stature, grace, -and spirit (if I have any), that not merely those of our hamlet, -but our very parents have often mistaken us, and spoken to -the one for the other, so that, not to fall into this error, they -distinguished us by the differences of our dresses, which were -different. In one thing only, as I believe, did Nature make -us quite different, namely, in disposition, my sister's being -harsher than my happiness required, since, because of her -being less compassionate than sharp-witted, I shall have to -weep as long as my life endures. It happened, then, that as -soon as my sister came to the village desiring to resume the -rustic duties that were pleasing to her, she rose next day earlier -than I wished, and went off to the meadow with the very sheep -I used to lead; and though I wished to follow her by reason -of the happiness which followed to me from the sight of my -Artidoro, for some reason or other my mother kept me at home -the whole of that day, which was the last of my joys. For -that night my sister, having brought back her flock, told me -as in secret that she had to tell me something of great importance -to me. I, who might have imagined anything rather than -what she said to me, arranged that we should soon see each -other alone, when with face somewhat moved, I hanging on -her words, she began to say to me: "I know not, sister mine, -what to think of your honour, nor yet whether I should be -silent on what I cannot refrain from telling you, in order to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54"></a>[Pg 54]</span> -see if you give me any excuse for the fault I imagine you -are guilty of: and though, as a younger sister, I should have -addressed you with more respect, you must forgive me; for -in what I have seen to-day you will find the excuse for what I -say to you." When I heard her speaking in this way I knew -not what to answer her except to tell her to go on with her -discourse. "You must know, sister," she proceeded, "that this -morning when I went forth with our sheep to the meadow, and -was going alone with them along the bank of our cool Henares, -as I passed through the glade of counsel there came out towards -me a shepherd whom I can truly swear I have never seen -in our district; and with a strange freedom of manner he began -to greet me so lovingly that I stood shamed and confused, -not knowing what to answer him. Failing to take warning from -the anger which I fancy I showed in my face, he came up to me, -saying to me: 'What silence is this, fair Teolinda, last refuge of -this soul that adores you?' And he was on the point of taking -my hands to kiss them, adding to what I have said a whole list -of endearments, which it seemed he brought ready prepared. -At once I understood, seeing that he was falling into the error -many others have fallen into, and thinking he was speaking -with you; whence a suspicion arose in me that if you, sister, had -never seen him, nor treated him with familiarity, it would not be -possible for him to have the boldness to speak to you in that -way. Whereat I felt so great a rage that I could scarcely form -words to answer him, but at last I replied to him in the way his -boldness deserved, and as it seemed to me you, sister, would -have had to answer anyone speaking to you so freely; and if it -had not been that the shepherdess Licea came up at that -moment, I had added such words that he would truly have -repented addressing his to me. And the best of it is that I -never chose to tell him of the error he was in, but that he -believed I was Teolinda, as if he had been speaking with you -yourself. At last he went off, calling me thankless, ungrateful, -one who showed little return; and from what I can judge from -the expression he bore, I assure you, sister, he will not dare -speak to you again though he should meet you all alone. What -I want to know is who is this shepherd, and what converse has -been between you, whence it comes that he dare speak to -you with such freedom?" To your great discretion, discreet -shepherdesses, I leave it to imagine what my soul would feel on -hearing what my sister told me: but at length, dissembling -as best I could, I said to her: "You have done me the greatest -favour in the world, sister Leonarda," (for so was called the -disturber of my peace) "in having by your harsh words rid me of -the disgust and turmoil caused me by the importunities you -mention of this shepherd. He is a stranger who for eight days -has been in our village, whose thoughts are full of arrogance<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55"></a>[Pg 55]</span> -and folly, so great that wherever he sees me he treats me as you -have seen, giving himself up to the belief that he has won my -good-will; and though I have undeceived him, perhaps with -harsher words than you said to him, nevertheless he does not -cease to persist in his vain purpose. I assure you, sister, that I -wish the new day were here that I might go and tell him that if -he does not desist from his vain hope, he may expect the end to -it which my words have always indicated to him." And it was -indeed true, sweet friends, that I would have given all that -might have been asked of me, if it had but been dawn, only that -I might go and see my Artidoro, and undeceive him of the error -he had fallen into, fearing lest through the bitter and petulant -reply my sister had given him he should be disdainful and -do something to prejudice our agreement. The long nights -of rough December were not more irksome to the lover hoping -some happiness from the coming day than was that night -distasteful to me, though it was one of the short nights of -summer, since I longed for the new light to go and see the -light whereby my eyes saw. And so, before the stars wholly -lost their brightness, being even in doubt whether it were night -or day, constrained by my longing, on the pretext of going to -pasture my sheep, I went forth from the village, and hurrying -the flock more than usual to urge it on, reached the spot where -at other times I was wont to find Artidoro, which I found -deserted and without anything to give me indication of him; -whereat my heart throbbed violently within me, for it almost -guessed the evil which was in store for it. How often, seeing -that I did not find him, did I wish to beat the air with my -voice, calling out my Artidoro's beloved name, and to say, -"Come, my joy, I am the true Teolinda, who longs for you and -loves you more than herself!" But fear lest my words might be -heard by another than him, made me keep more silent than I -should have wished. And so, after I had traversed once and -yet again all the bank and wood of the gentle Henares, I sat me -down, wearied, at the foot of a green willow, waiting until the -bright sun should with his rays spread over all the face of -the earth, so that in his brightness there might not remain -thicket, cave, copse, cottage, or hut where I might not go seeking -my joy. But scarcely had the new light given opportunity -to distinguish colours, when straightway a rough-barked poplar, -which was before me, presented itself to my eyes: on it and -on many others I saw some letters written, which I at once -recognised to be from Artidoro's hand, set there; and rising in -haste to see what they said, I saw, fair shepherdesses, that it -was this:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Shepherdess, alone in thee</span><br /> -Do I find that beauty rare<br /> -Which to naught can I compare<br /> -Save to thine own cruelty.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56"></a>[Pg 56]</span><br /> -Thou wert fickle, loyal I,<br /> -Thus thou sowedst with open hand<br /> -Promises upon the sand;<br /> -Down the wind my hope did fly.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Never had I thought to know</span><br /> -That thy sweet and joyous "yes"<br /> -Would be followed—I confess—<br /> -By a sad and bitter "no."<br /> -Yet I had not been undone,<br /> -Had the eyes that gazed on thee<br /> -Kept in sight prosperity,<br /> -Not thy loveliness alone.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">But the more thy mystic grace</span><br /> -Speaks of promise and of gladness,<br /> -All the more I sink in sadness,<br /> -All my wits are in a maze.<br /> -Ah, those eyes! they proved untrue,<br /> -Though compassionate in seeming.<br /> -Tell me, eyes so falsely beaming,<br /> -How they sinned that gaze on you.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Is there man, cruel shepherdess,</span><br /> -But thou couldst beguile his fancies<br /> -By thy staid and modest glances,<br /> -By thy voice's sweet caress?<br /> -This indeed have I believed,<br /> -That thou couldst have, days ago,<br /> -Held me, hadst thou wished it so,<br /> -Captive, vanquished, and deceived.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lo, the letters I shall write</span><br /> -On the rough bark of this tree—<br /> -Firmer than did faith with thee,<br /> -Will they grow in time's despite.<br /> -On thy lips thy faith was set,<br /> -On thy promises so vain;<br /> -Firmer 'gainst the wind-tossed main<br /> -Is the rock the gale hath met.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Fearsome art thou, full of bane</span><br /> -As the viper which we press<br /> -Under foot—ah, shepherdess,<br /> -False as fair, my charm and pain!<br /> -Whatsoe'er thy cruelty<br /> -Biddeth, I without delay<br /> -Will perform; to disobey<br /> -Thy command was ne'er in me.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">I shall far in exile die</span><br /> -That contented thou mayst live,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57"></a>[Pg 57]</span><br /> -But beware lest Love perceive<br /> -How thou scorn'st my misery.<br /> -In Love's dance, though Love may place<br /> -Loyal heart in bondage strait,<br /> -Yet it may not change its state,<br /> -But must stay, to shun disgrace.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou in beauty dost excel</span><br /> -Every maiden on this earth,<br /> -And I thought that from thy worth<br /> -Thou wert firm in love as well.<br /> -Now my love the truth doth know<br /> -'Twas that Nature wished to limn<br /> -In thy face an angel, Time<br /> -In thy mood that changes so.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wouldst thou know where I have gone,</span><br /> -Where my woeful life shall end,<br /> -Mark my blood, thy footsteps bend<br /> -By the path my blood hath shown.<br /> -And though naught with thee doth well<br /> -Of our love and harmony<br /> -Do not to the corse deny<br /> -E'en the sad and last farewell.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou wilt be without remorse,</span><br /> -Harder than the diamond stone,<br /> -If thou makest not thy moan,<br /> -When thou dost behold my corse.<br /> -If in life thou hatedst me,<br /> -Then amidst my hapless plight<br /> -I shall count my death delight<br /> -To be dead and wept by thee.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">'What words will suffice, shepherdesses, to make you understand -the extremity of grief that seized upon my heart, when I -clearly understood that the verses I had read were my beloved -Artidoro's? But there is no reason why I should make too much -of it to you, since it did not go as far as was needed to end my -life, which thenceforward I have held in such loathing, that I -would not feel, nor could there come to me, a greater pleasure -than to lose it. So great and of such a kind were the sighs I -then gave forth, the tears I shed, the piteous cries I uttered, -that none who had heard me but would have taken me for mad. -In short, I remained in such a state, that, without considering -what I owed to my honour, I determined to forsake my dear native -land, beloved parents and cherished brothers, and to leave my -simple flock to take care of itself; and, without heeding aught -else save what I deemed to be necessary for my satisfaction, -that very morning, embracing a thousand times the bark where -my Artidoro's hand had been, I departed from that place with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"></a>[Pg 58]</span> -the intent to come to these banks where I know Artidoro has -and makes his abode, to see if he has been so inconsiderate and -cruel to himself, as to put into practice what he left written in -his last verses: for if it were so, henceforward I promise you, -my friends, that the desire and haste with which I shall follow -him in death, shall be no less than the willingness with which I -have loved him in life. But, woe is me! I verily believe there is no -foreboding which may be to my hurt but will turn out true, for -it is now nine days since I came to these cool banks, and all this -while I have learnt no tidings of what I desire; and may it -please God that when I learn them, it may not be the worst I -forebode. Here you see, discreet maidens, the mournful issue -of my life of love. I have now told you who I am and what I -seek; if you have any tidings of my happiness, may fortune grant -you the greatest you desire, so that you do not withhold it from me.'</p> - -<p>With such tears did the loving shepherdess accompany the -words she uttered, that he would have had a heart of steel who -had not grieved at them. Galatea and Florisa, who were -naturally of a pitying disposition, could not hold theirs back, -nor yet did they fail to comfort her with the most soothing and -helpful words in their power, counselling her to remain some -days in their company; that perhaps her fortune would in the -meantime cause her to learn some tidings of Artidoro, since -Heaven would not allow a shepherd so discreet as she depicted -him by reason of so strange an error to end the course of his -youthful years; that it might be that Artidoro, his thought -having in course of time returned to better course and purpose, -might return to see the native land he longed for and his sweet -friends; and that she might, therefore, hope to find him there -better than elsewhere. The shepherdess, somewhat consoled by -these and other reasonings, was pleased to remain with them, -thanking them for the favour they did her, and for the desire -they showed to secure her happiness. At this moment the -serene night, urging on her starry car through the sky, gave -token that the new day was approaching; and the shepherdesses, -in desire and need of rest, arose and repaired from the cool -garden to their dwellings. But scarce had the bright sun with -his warm rays scattered and consumed the dense mist, which on -cool mornings is wont to spread through the air, when the -three shepherdesses, leaving their lazy couches, returned to the -wonted pursuit of grazing their flock, Galatea and Florisa with -thoughts far different from that cherished by the fair Teolinda, -who went her way so sad and thoughtful that it was a marvel. -And for this reason, Galatea, to see if she might in some way -distract her, begged her to lay aside her melancholy for a while, -and be so good as to sing some verses to the sound of Florisa's -pipe. To this Teolinda replied:</p> - -<p>'If I thought that the great cause I have for weeping, despite<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59"></a>[Pg 59]</span> -the slight cause I have for singing, would be diminished in any -way, you might well forgive me, fair Galatea, for not doing what -you bid me; but as I already know by experience that what my -tongue utters in song, my heart confirms with weeping, I will -do what you wish, since thereby I shall satisfy your desire -without going contrary to mine.'</p> - -<p>And straightway the shepherdess Florisa played her pipe, to -the sound of which Teolinda sang this sonnet:</p> - -<p class="p01">T<small>EOLINDA.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> Whither a flagrant cruel lie doth go,</div> -<div class="verse">This have I learned from my grievous state,</div> -<div class="verse">And how Love with my hurt doth meditate</div> -<div class="verse">The life that fear denies me, to bestow.</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">To dwell within my flesh my soul doth cease,</div> -<div class="verse">Following his soul that by some mystic fate</div> -<div class="verse">In pain hath placed it, and in woe so great</div> -<div class="verse">That happiness brings strife, and sorrow peace.</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">If I do live, 'tis hope that makes me live,</div> -<div class="verse">Hope, that, though slight and weak, doth upward mount,</div> -<div class="verse">Clinging unto the strength my love doth give.</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">Ah firm beginning, transformation frail,</div> -<div class="verse">Bitterest total of a sweet account!</div> -<div class="verse">Amidst your persecutions life must fail.</div> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">Teolinda had scarcely ceased singing the sonnet you have -heard, when, on their right hand, on the slope of the cool vale, -the three shepherdesses became aware of the sound of a pipe, -whose sweetness was such that all halted and stood still, to enjoy -the sweet harmony with more attention. And anon they heard -the sound of a small rebeck, attuning itself to that of the pipe -with grace and skill so great that the two shepherdesses Galatea -and Florisa stood rapt, wondering what shepherds they might -be who played with such harmony; for they clearly saw that none -of those they knew was so skilled in music, unless it were Elicio.</p> - -<p>'At this moment,' said Teolinda, 'if my ears deceive me not, -fair shepherdesses, I think you now have on your banks the two -renowned and famous shepherds Thyrsis and Damon, natives of -my country—at least Thyrsis is, who was born in famous Compluto, -a town founded on our Henares' banks; and Damon, his -intimate and perfect friend, if I am not ill informed, draws his -origin from the mountains of León, and was nurtured in Mantua -Carpentanea, the renowned. Both are so excellent in every -manner of discretion, learning and praiseworthy pursuits, that -not only are they known within the boundaries of our district, -but they are known and esteemed throughout all the boundaries -of the land; and think not, shepherdesses, that the genius of -these two shepherds extends merely to knowing what befits the -shepherd's lot, for it passes so far beyond that they teach and -dispute of the hidden things of Heaven and the unknown things<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60"></a>[Pg 60]</span> -of earth, in terms and modes agreed upon. And I am perplexed -to think what cause will have moved them to leave, Thyrsis his -sweet and beloved Phyllis, Damon his fair and modest Amaryllis; -Phyllis by Thyrsis, Amaryllis by Damon so beloved, that -there is in our village or its environs no person, nor in the -district a wood, meadow, spring or stream, that does not know -full well their warm and modest love.'</p> - -<p>'Cease at present, Teolinda,' said Florisa, 'to praise these -shepherds to us, for it profits us more to hear what they -sing as they come, since it seems to me that they have no less -charm in their voices than in the music of their instruments.'</p> - -<p>'What will you say,' Teolinda then replied, 'when you see all -this surpassed by the excellence of their poetry, which is of such -a kind that for the one it has already gained the epithet of -divine, and for the other that of superhuman?'</p> - -<p>The shepherdesses, whilst engaged in this discourse, saw, on -the slope of the vale along which they themselves were going, -two shepherds appear, of gallant bearing and abounding spirit, -one a little older than the other; so well dressed, though in -shepherd's garb, that in their carriage and appearance they -seemed more like brave courtiers than mountain herdsmen. -Each wore a well-cut garment of finest white wool, trimmed with -tawny red and grey, colours which their shepherdesses fancied -most. Each had hanging from his shoulder a wallet no less -handsome and adorned than the garments. They came crowned -with green laurel and cool ivy, with their twisted crooks placed -under their arms. They brought no companion, and came so -rapt in their music that they were for a long while without seeing -the fixed shepherdesses, who were wending their way along the same -slope, wondering not a little at the gentle grace and charm of -the shepherds, who, with voices attuned to the same chant, one -beginning and the other replying, sang this which follows:</p> - -<p class="p1 center">DAMON. THYRSIS.</p> - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse ileft2">Thyrsis, who dost in loneliness depart</div> -<div class="verse">With steps emboldened, though against thy will,</div> -<div class="verse">From yonder light wherewith remains thine heart,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Why dost thou not the air with mourning fill?</div> -<div class="verse">So great indeed thy cause is to complain</div> -<div class="verse">Of the fierce troubler of thy life so still.</div> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse ileft2">Damon, once let the life be rent in twain,</div> -<div class="verse">If the grief-stricken body go away,</div> -<div class="verse">And yet the higher half behind remain,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">What virtue or what being will essay</div> -<div class="verse">My tongue to move, already counted dead?</div> -<div class="verse">For where my soul was, there my life doth stay.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">I see, I hear, I feel, 'tis truth indeed,</div> -<div class="verse">And yet I am a phantom formed by love,</div> -<div class="verse">My only stay is hope that hath not fled.</div> -</div> -</div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61"></a>[Pg 61]</span></p> - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse ileft2">Oh, happy Thyrsis, how thy lot doth move</div> -<div class="verse">My soul to envy! rightly, for I know</div> -<div class="verse">That it doth rise all lovers' lots above.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Absence alone displeaseth thee, and so</div> -<div class="verse">Firm and secure thou hast in Love a stay</div> -<div class="verse">Wherewith thy soul rejoiceth 'midst its woe.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Alas! where'er I go I fall a prey</div> -<div class="verse">Beneath the chilly scornful hand of fear,</div> -<div class="verse">Or with its cruel lance disdain doth slay!</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Count life as death; although it doth appear</div> -<div class="verse">Living to thee, 'tis like a lamp that dies</div> -<div class="verse">And as it dies, the flame burneth more clear.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">My wearied soul doth not in time that flies,</div> -<div class="verse">Nor in the means that absence offers, find</div> -<div class="verse">Its consolation 'midst its miseries.</div> -</div> -</div> - - - -<p class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse ileft2">Love that is firm and pure hath ne'er declined</div> -<div class="verse">Through bitter absence; rather memory</div> -<div class="verse">Fosters its growth by faith within the mind.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">The perfect lover sees no remedy</div> -<div class="verse">Relief unto the loving load to give,</div> -<div class="verse">However short or long the absence be.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">For memory, which only doth perceive</div> -<div class="verse">What Love hath set within the soul, doth show</div> -<div class="verse">The lovèd image to the mind alive.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">And then in soothing silence makes him know</div> -<div class="verse">His fortune, good or ill, as from her eye</div> -<div class="verse">A loving or a loveless glance doth go.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">And if thou markest that I do not sigh,</div> -<div class="verse">'Tis that my Phyllis doth my singing guide,</div> -<div class="verse">Here in my breast my Phyllis I descry.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse ileft2">If in her lovely face thou hadst espied</div> -<div class="verse">Signs of displeasure when thou didst depart</div> -<div class="verse">Far from the joy that thee hath satisfied,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Full well I know, my Thyrsis, that thine heart</div> -<div class="verse">Would be as full as mine of bitter woe—</div> -<div class="verse">Love's bliss was thine, but mine Love's cruel smart—</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse ileft2">With words like these I pass the time, and so,</div> -<div class="verse">Damon, I temper absence's extreme,</div> -<div class="verse">And gladly do remain, or come, or go.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">For she who was from birth a living theme,</div> -<div class="verse">Type of the deathless beauty in the skies,</div> -<div class="verse">Worthy of marble, temple, diadem,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Even my Phyllis, blinds th' covetous eyes,</div> -<div class="verse">With her rare virtue and her modest zeal,</div> -<div class="verse">So that I fear not; none will wrest the prize.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">The strait subjection that my soul doth feel</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62"></a>[Pg 62]</span> -<div class="verse">Before hers, and the purpose raised on high,</div> -<div class="verse">That in her worship doth its goal reveal,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">And more, the fact that Phyllis knows that I</div> -<div class="verse">Love her, and doth return my love—all these</div> -<div class="verse">Banish my grief and bring felicity.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse ileft2">Blest Thyrsis, Thyrsis crowned with happiness!</div> -<div class="verse">Mayst thou enjoy for ages yet to come</div> -<div class="verse">Thy bliss 'midst Love's delight and certain peace.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">But I, whom brief and unrelenting doom</div> -<div class="verse">To such a doubtful pass as this hath led,</div> -<div class="verse">In merit poor, in cares rich, near the tomb.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">'Tis good that I should die, since, being dead,</div> -<div class="verse">Nor cruel Amaryllis shall I fear</div> -<div class="verse">Nor Love ungrateful whereby I am sped.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Oh, fairer than the heavens, or sun's bright sphere,</div> -<div class="verse">Yet harder far than adamant to me,</div> -<div class="verse">Ready to hurt, but slow to bring me cheer,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">What wind from south or north or east on thee</div> -<div class="verse">Harshness did blow, that thou didst thus ordain,</div> -<div class="verse">That from thy presence I should ever flee?</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">I, shepherdess, in lands across the main</div> -<div class="verse">Far off shall die—thy will thou hast avowed—</div> -<div class="verse">Doomed unto death, to fetter, yoke and chain.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse ileft2">Since Heaven in its mercy hath endowed</div> -<div class="verse">Thee, Damon, with such blessings, dearest friend,</div> -<div class="verse">With intellect so sprightly and so proud,</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Yet it with thy lament and sorrow blend,</div> -<div class="verse">Remember that the sun's all-scorching ray</div> -<div class="verse">And ice's chill at last shall have an end.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Destiny does not always choose one way</div> -<div class="verse">Whereby with smooth, reposeful steps to bring</div> -<div class="verse">Happiness to us—mark the words I say—</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">For sometimes by unthought-of suffering,</div> -<div class="verse">In seeming far from pleasure and from joy,</div> -<div class="verse">It leads us to the blisses poets sing.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">But come, good friend, thy memory employ</div> -<div class="verse">Upon the modest joys that Love once gave,</div> -<div class="verse">Pledges of victory without alloy.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">And, if thou canst, a pastime seek, to save</div> -<div class="verse">Thy soul from brooding, whilst the time of scorn</div> -<div class="verse">Goes by, and we attain the boon we crave.</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Unto the ice that by degrees doth burn,</div> -<div class="verse">Unto the fire that chills beyond degree,</div> -<div class="verse">What bard shall place degree thereto, or bourne?</div> -<div class="verse ileft2">Vainly he wearies, vainly watcheth he</div> -<div class="verse">Who, out of favour, yet Love's web doth seek</div> -<div class="verse">To cut according to his fantasy;</div> -<div class="verse">He is, though strong in Love, in fortune weak.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63"></a>[Pg 63]</span></p> - -<p class="p01">Here ceased the exquisite song of the graceful shepherds, but -not as regards the pleasure the shepherdesses had felt at -listening to it; rather they would have wished it not to end -so soon, for it was one of those lays that are but rarely heard. -At this moment the two gallant shepherds bent their steps in -the direction where the shepherdesses were, whereat Teolinda -was grieved, for she feared to be recognised by them; and -for this reason she asked Galatea that they might go away -from that place. She did it, and the shepherds passed by, -and as they passed Galatea heard Thyrsis saying to Damon:</p> - -<p>'These banks, friend Damon, are those on which the fair -Galatea grazes her flocks, and to which the loving Elicio -brings his, your intimate and special friend, to whom may -fortune give such issue in his love as his honourable and -good desires deserve. For many days I have not known to -what straits his lot has brought him; but from what I have -heard tell of the coy disposition of discreet Galatea, for whom -he is dying, I fear he must be full of woe long before he is -content.'</p> - -<p>'I would not be astonished at this,' replied Damon, 'for -with all the graces and special gifts wherewith Heaven has -enriched Galatea, it has after all made her a woman, in -which frail object is not always the gratitude that is due, and -which he needs whose smallest risk for them is life. What -I have heard tell of Elicio's love is that he adores Galatea -without passing beyond the bounds that are due to her -modesty, and that Galatea's discretion is so great that she -does not give proofs of loving or of loathing Elicio; and so -the hapless swain must go on subject to a thousand contrary -chances, waiting on time and fortune (means hopeless enough) -to shorten or lengthen his life, but which are more likely to -shorten it than to sustain it.'</p> - -<p>So far Galatea could hear what the shepherds, as they went -along, said of her and of Elicio, whereat she felt no small -pleasure, understanding that what report published of her -affairs was what was due to her pure intent; and from that -moment she determined not to do for Elicio anything that -might give report a chance of speaking false in what it -published of her thoughts. At this moment the two brave -shepherds were gradually wending their way with loitering -steps towards the village, desiring to be present at the nuptials -of the happy shepherd Daranio, who was marrying Silveria of -the green eyes, and this was one of the reasons why they -had left their flocks, and were coming to Galatea's hamlet. -But, when but little of the way remained to be covered, they -heard on its right side the sound of a rebeck which sounded -harmoniously and sweetly; and Damon stopping caught -Thyrsis by the arm, and said to him:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64"></a>[Pg 64]</span></p> - -<p>'Stay, listen a while, Thyrsis, for if my ears do not deceive -me, the sound that reaches them is that from the rebeck of -my good friend Elicio, on whom Nature bestowed so much -charm in many different arts, as you will hear if you listen -to him, and learn if you speak with him.'</p> - -<p>'Think not, Damon,' replied Thyrsis, 'that I have yet to learn -Elicio's good qualities, for days ago fame clearly revealed them -to me. But be silent now, and let us listen to see if he sings -aught that may give us some sure token of his present fortune.'</p> - -<p>'You say well,' answered Damon, 'but it will be necessary, -the better to hear him, for us to go in among these branches -so that we may listen to him more closely without being seen by -him.'</p> - -<p>They did so, and placed themselves in so good a position that -no word that Elicio said or sang, failed to be heard by them -and even noted. Elicio was in the company of his friend -Erastro, from whom he was rarely separated by reason of the -pleasure and enjoyment he received from his excellent converse, -and all or most of the day was spent by them in -singing and playing their instruments, and at this moment, -Elicio playing his rebeck and Erastro his pipe, the former -began these verses:</p> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw30"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">I yield unto the thought within my breast</div> -<div class="verse">And in my grief find rest;</div> -<div class="verse">Glory no more in view,</div> -<div class="verse">I follow her whom fancy doth pursue,</div> -<div class="verse">For her I ever in my fancy see,</div> -<div class="verse">From all the bonds of Love exempt and free.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Unto the soul's eye Heaven grants not the grace</div> -<div class="verse">To see the peaceful face</div> -<div class="verse">Of her who is my foe,</div> -<div class="verse">Glory and pride of all that Heaven can show;</div> -<div class="verse">When I behold her with my body's eye,</div> -<div class="verse">The sun have I beheld, and blind am I.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Oh bitter bonds of Love, though fraught with pleasure!</div> -<div class="verse">Oh, mighty beyond measure,</div> -<div class="verse">Love's hand! that thus couldst steal</div> -<div class="verse">The bliss which thou didst promise to reveal</div> -<div class="verse">Unto mine eyes, when, in my freedom's hour,</div> -<div class="verse">I mocked at thee, thy bow and quiver's power.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">What loveliness! what hands as white as snow,</div> -<div class="verse">Thou tyrant, didst thou show!</div> -<div class="verse">How wearied wert thou grown,</div> -<div class="verse">When first the noose upon my neck was thrown!</div> -<div class="verse">And even thou hadst fallen in the fray</div> -<div class="verse">Were Galatea not alive to-day.</div> -</div> - -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65"></a>[Pg 65]</span> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">She, she alone, on earth alone was found</div> -<div class="verse">To deal the cruel wound</div> -<div class="verse">Within the heart of me.</div> -<div class="verse">And make a vassal of the fancy free,</div> -<div class="verse">That would as steel or marble be displayed,</div> -<div class="verse">Did it not yield itself to love the maid.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">What charter can protect, what monarch's grace</div> -<div class="verse">Against the cruel face,</div> -<div class="verse">More beauteous than the sun,</div> -<div class="verse">Of her who hath my happiness undone?</div> -<div class="verse">Ah face, that dost reveal</div> -<div class="verse">On earth the bliss that Heaven doth conceal!</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">How comes it then that nature could unite</div> -<div class="verse">Such rigour and despite</div> -<div class="verse">With so much loveliness,</div> -<div class="verse">Such worth and yet a mood so pitiless?</div> -<div class="verse">Such opposites to join</div> -<div class="verse">My happiness consents—the hurt is mine.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Easy it is that my brief lot should see</div> -<div class="verse">Sweet life in unity</div> -<div class="verse">With bitter death, and find</div> -<div class="verse">Its evil nestling where its good reclined.</div> -<div class="verse">Amidst these different ways</div> -<div class="verse">I see that hope, but not desire decays.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">The loving shepherd sang no more, nor did Thyrsis and -Damon wish to stay longer, but showing themselves unexpectedly -and with spirit, came to where Elicio was. When he saw them -he recognised his friend Damon, and going forward with -incredible joy to welcome him, said to him:</p> - -<p>'What fortune, discreet Damon, has ordained that by your -presence you should bestow so fair a fortune on these banks -which have long wished for you?'</p> - -<p>'It cannot be but fair,' answered Damon, 'since it has brought -me to see you, oh Elicio, a thing on which I set a value as great -as is the desire I had for it, and as long absence and the -friendship I cherish for you forced me to do. But if you -can for any reason say what you have said, it is because -you have before you the famous Thyrsis, glory and honour -of the Castilian soil.'</p> - -<p>When Elicio heard him say that this was Thyrsis, to him only -known by fame, he welcomed him with great courtesy, and said -to him:</p> - -<p>'Your pleasing countenance, renowned Thyrsis, agrees well -with what loud fame in lands near and far proclaims of your -worth and discretion: and so, seeing that your writings have<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66"></a>[Pg 66]</span> -filled me with wonder and led me to desire to know you and -serve you, you can henceforward count and treat me as a true -friend.'</p> - -<p>'What I gain thereby,' replied Thyrsis, 'is so well known -that in vain would fame proclaim what the affection you bear -me makes you say that it proclaims of me, if I did not recognise -the favour you do me in seeking to place me in the number of your -friends; and since between those who are friends words of compliment -must be superfluous, let ours cease at this point, and let -deeds give witness of our good-will.'</p> - -<p>'Mine will ever be to serve you,' replied Elicio, 'as you will -see, oh Thyrsis, if time or fortune place me in a position in any -way suitable for it; for that I now occupy, though I would not -change it for another offering greater advantages, is such that -it scarcely leaves me free to proffer what I desire.'</p> - -<p>'Since you set your desire on so lofty a goal as you do,' -said Damon, 'I would hold it madness to endeavour to lower it -to an object that might be less; and so, friend Elicio, do not -speak ill of the condition in which you find yourself, for I assure -you that if it were compared with mine, I would find occasion to -feel towards you more envy than pity.'</p> - -<p>'It is quite clear, Damon,' said Elicio, 'that you have been -away from these banks for many a day, since you do not -know what love makes me feel here, and if it is not so, you -cannot know or have experience of Galatea's disposition, for -if you had noted it, you would change into pity the envy you -might feel for me.'</p> - -<p>'What new thing can he expect from Galatea's disposition,' -replied Damon, 'who has experienced that of Amaryllis?'</p> - -<p>'If your stay on these banks,' answered Elicio, 'be as long as -I wish, you, Damon, will learn and see on them, and on others -will hear, how her cruelty and gentleness go in equal balance, -extremes which end the life of him whose misfortune has brought -him to the pass of adoring her.'</p> - -<p>'On our Henares's banks,' said Thyrsis at this point, 'Galatea -had more fame for beauty than for cruelty; but above all, it is -said that she is discreet; and if this be true, as it ought to be, from -her discretion springs self-knowledge, and from self-knowledge -self-esteem, and from self-esteem desire not to stray, and from -desire not to stray comes desire not to gratify herself. And you, -Elicio, seeing how ill she responds to your wishes, give the name -of cruelty to that which you should have called honourable -reticence; and I do not wonder, for it is, after all, the -condition proper to lovers who find small favour.'</p> - -<p>'You would be right in what you have said, oh Thyrsis,' -replied Elicio, 'if my desires were to wander from the path -befitting her honour and modesty; but if they are so measured, -as is due to her worth and reputation, what avails such disdain,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67"></a>[Pg 67]</span> -such bitter and peevish replies, such open withdrawal of the face -from him who has set all his glory on merely seeing it? Ah, -Thyrsis, Thyrsis, how love must have placed you on the summit -of its joys, since with so calm a spirit you speak of its effects! -I do not know that what you say now goes well with what -you once said when you sang:</p> - - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p>"Alas, from what a wealth of hope I come<br /> -Unto a poor and faltering desire"—</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">with the rest you added to it.'</p> - -<p>Up to this point Erastro had been silent, watching what was -passing between the shepherds, wondering to see their gentle -grace and bearing, with the proofs each one gave of the great -discretion he had. But seeing that from step to step they had -been brought to reasoning on affairs of love, as one who was so -experienced in them, he broke silence, and said:</p> - -<p>'I quite believe, discreet shepherds, that long experience -will have shown you that one cannot reduce to a fixed term -the disposition of loving hearts, which, being governed by -another's will, are exposed to a thousand contrary accidents. -And so, renowned Thyrsis, you have no reason to wonder at -what Elicio has said, and he as little to wonder at what you -say, or take for an example what he says you sang, still -less what I know you sang when you said:</p> - -<p class="p1 center">"The pallor and the weakness I display,"</p> - -<p>wherein you clearly showed the woeful plight in which you then -were; for a little later there came to our huts the news of your -bliss celebrated in those verses of yours, which are so famous. -They began, if I remember rightly:</p> - -<p class="p1 center">"The dawn comes up, and from her fertile hand."</p> - -<p>Whence we clearly see the difference there is between one -moment and another, and how love like them is wont to -change condition, making him laugh to-day who wept yesterday, -and him weep to-morrow who laughs to-day. And since I -have known her disposition so well, Galatea's harshness and -haughty disdain cannot succeed in destroying my hopes, though -I hope from her nothing save that she should be content that -I should love her.'</p> - -<p>'He who should not hope a fair issue to so loving and -measured a desire as you have shown, oh shepherd,' replied -Damon, 'deserved renown beyond that of a despairing lover; -truly it is a great thing you seek of Galatea! But tell me, -shepherd—so may she grant it you—can it be that you have -your desire so well in bounds that it does not advance in -desire beyond what you have said.'</p> - -<p>'You may well believe him, friend Damon,' said Elicio, 'since -Galatea's worth gives no opportunity for aught else to be<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68"></a>[Pg 68]</span> -desired or hoped of her, and even this is so difficult to obtain -that at times in Erastro hope is chilled, and in me grows cold, -so that he counts as certain, and I as sure, that sooner must -death come than hope's fulfilment. But as it is not right -to welcome such honoured guests with the bitter tales of our -miseries, let them now cease, and let us betake ourselves to -the village, where you may rest from the heavy toil of the road, -and may with greater ease, if so you wish, learn our uneasiness.'</p> - -<p>All were pleased to fall in with Elicio's wish, and he and -Erastro, collecting their flocks once more, though it was some -hours before the wonted time, in company with the two -shepherds, speaking on different matters, though all concerned -with love, journeyed towards the village. But, as all Erastro's -pastime was in playing and singing, so for this reason, as also -from the desire he had to learn if the two new shepherds were -as skilful as was said of them, in order to induce them and invite -them to do the same, he asked Elicio to play his rebeck, to the -sound of which he began to sing as follows:</p> - -<p class="p01">E<small>RASTRO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Before the light of yonder peaceful eyes,</div> -<div class="verse">Whereby the sun is lit the earth to light,</div> -<div class="verse">My soul is so inflamed, that, in despite,</div> -<div class="verse">I fear that death will soon secure the prize.</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">Yon clustered rays descending from the skies,</div> -<div class="verse">Sent by the Lord of Delos, are thus bright:</div> -<div class="verse">Such are the tresses of my heart's delight,</div> -<div class="verse">Whom, kneeling, I adore with litanies.</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">Oh radiant light, ray of the radiant sun,</div> -<div class="verse">Nay sun in very truth, to thee I pray,</div> -<div class="verse">That thou wouldst let me love,—this boon alone.</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">If jealous Heaven this boon to me deny,</div> -<div class="verse">Let me not die of grief though grief doth slay,</div> -<div class="verse">But grant, oh rays, that of a ray I die.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">The shepherds did not think ill of the sonnet, nor were they -displeased with Erastro's voice, which, though not one of the -most exquisite, was yet a tuneful one; and straightway Elicio, -moved by Erastro's example, bade him play his pipe, to the -sound of which he repeated this sonnet:</p> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw30"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Alas! that to the lofty purpose, born</div> -<div class="verse">Within the fastness of my loving mind,</div> -<div class="verse">All are opposed, to wit, Heaven, fire and wind,</div> -<div class="verse">Water and earth, and she that doth me scorn!</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">They are my foes; 'twere better I should mourn</div> -<div class="verse">My rashness, and the enterprise begun</div> -<div class="verse">Abandon. But the impulse who can shun</div> -<div class="verse">Of ruthless fate, by Love's persistence torn?</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69"></a>[Pg 69]</span> -<div class="verse ileft3">Though Heaven on high, though Love, though wind and fire,</div> -<div class="verse">Water and earth, and even my fair foe,</div> -<div class="verse">Each one, with might, and with my fate allied,</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">Should stay my bliss and scatter my desire,</div> -<div class="verse">My hope undoing,—yet, though hope should go,</div> -<div class="verse">I cannot cease to do what I have tried.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">As Elicio finished, straightway Damon, to the sound of the -same pipe of Erastro, began to sing in this wise:</p> - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Softer than wax was I, when on my breast</div> -<div class="verse">I did imprint the image of the face</div> -<div class="verse">Of Amaryllis, cruel 'midst her grace,</div> -<div class="verse">Like to hard marble, or to savage beast.</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">'Twas then Love set me in the loftiest</div> -<div class="verse">Sphere of his bliss, and bade sweet fortune come;</div> -<div class="verse">But now I fear that in the silent tomb</div> -<div class="verse">Alone shall my presumption find its rest.</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">Of hope did Love, as vine of elm, take hold</div> -<div class="verse">Securely, and was climbing up with speed,</div> -<div class="verse">When moisture failed, and its ascent was stayed.</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">'Twas not the moisture of mine eyes: of old</div> -<div class="verse">Their tribute ever—Fortune this doth heed—</div> -<div class="verse">Unto face, breast and earth, mine eyes have paid.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Damon ceased, and Thyrsis, to the sound of the instruments -of the three shepherds, began to sing this sonnet:</p> - -<div class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></div> - - - -<div class="poetry-container pw30"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse ileft3">My faith broke through the net that death had spread;</div> -<div class="verse">To this pass have I come that I no more</div> -<div class="verse">Envy the highest and the richest store</div> -<div class="verse">Of happiness that man hath merited.</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">I saw thee, and this bliss was straightway born,</div> -<div class="verse">Fair Phyllis, unto whom fate gave for dower</div> -<div class="verse">To turn to good that which was bad before,</div> -<div class="verse">And win to laughter him who once did mourn.</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">E'en as the felon, when he doth espy</div> -<div class="verse">The royal face, the rigour of the law</div> -<div class="verse">Escapes—this ordinance is true indeed—</div> -<div class="verse ileft3">E'en so doth death before thy presence fly,</div> -<div class="verse">Oh fairest of the fair, harm doth withdraw,</div> -<div class="verse">And leaveth life and fortune in its stead.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">As Thyrsis finished, all the instruments of the shepherds made -such pleasing music that it gave great joy to any who heard it, -being further aided from among the dense branches by a -thousand kinds of painted birds, which seemed as in chorus to -give them back reply with divine harmony. In this way they -had gone on a stretch, when they came to an ancient hermitage -standing on the slope of a hillock, not so far from the road but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70"></a>[Pg 70]</span> -that they could hear the sound of a harp which some -one, it seemed, was playing within. Erastro, hearing this, -said:</p> - -<p>'Stop, shepherds, for, as I think, we shall hear to-day what I -have wished to hear for days, namely, the voice of a graceful -youth, who, some twelve or fourteen days ago, came to spend -within yon hermitage a life harder than it seems to me his few -years can bear. Sometimes when I have passed this way, I -have heard a harp being played and a voice sounding, so sweet -that it has filled me with the keenest desire to listen to it; but -I have always come at the moment he stayed his song; and -though by speaking to him I have managed to become his -friend, offering to his service all within my means and power, I -have never been able to prevail with him to disclose to me who -he is, and the causes which have moved him to come so young -and settle in such solitude and retirement.'</p> - -<p>What Erastro said about the young hermit, newly come there, -filled the shepherds with the same desire of knowing him as he -had; and so they agreed to approach the hermitage in such a -way that without being perceived they might be able to hear what -he sang, before they came to speak to him, and on doing this, -they succeeded so well that they placed themselves in a spot -where, without being seen or perceived, they heard him who -was within uttering to the sound of his harp, verses such as -these:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw30"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">If Heaven, Love and Fortune have been pleased—</span><br /> -The fault was not mine own—<br /> -To set me thus in such a parlous state,<br /> -Vainly unto the air I make my moan,<br /> -Vainly on high was raised<br /> -Unto the moon the thought that seemed so great.<br /> -Oh cruel, cruel, fate!<br /> -By what mysterious and unwonted ways<br /> -Have my sweet joyous days<br /> -Been checked at such a pass in their career<br /> -That I am dying and e'en life do fear!</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Enraged against myself I burn and glow</span><br /> -To see that I can bear<br /> -Such pains, and yet my heart breaks not; the wind<br /> -Receiveth not my soul, though vital air<br /> -Amidst my bitter woe<br /> -At last withdraws, and leaveth naught behind.<br /> -And there anew I find<br /> -That hope doth lend its aid to give me strength,<br /> -And, though but feigned, doth strengthen life at length,<br /> -'Tis not Heaven's pity, for it doth ordain<br /> -That to long life be given longer pain.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71"></a>[Pg 71]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">The hapless bosom of a lovèd friend</span><br /> -In turn made tender mine,<br /> -At once I undertook the dread emprize.<br /> -Oh sweet and bitter plight none can divine!<br /> -Oh deed that ne'er shall end!<br /> -Oh strategy that madness did devise!<br /> -To win for him the prize<br /> -How bounteous and how kind Love did appear,<br /> -To me how full of fear<br /> -And loyalty, and yet how covetous!<br /> -To more than this a friend constraineth us.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">An unjust guerdon for a wish as just</span><br /> -At every step we see<br /> -By a distrustful fortune's hand bestowed,<br /> -And, traitorous Love, by thine; we know of thee<br /> -That 'tis thy joy and trust<br /> -That lovers e'en in life should bear death's load.<br /> -The living flame that glowed—<br /> -Oh may it kindle in thy pinions light<br /> -And may, in thy despite,<br /> -To ashes sink each good and evil dart,<br /> -Or turn, when thou dost loose it, 'gainst thine heart.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">How comes it then, by what deceit or wile,</span><br /> -By what strange wanderings,<br /> -Didst thou possession take of me by storm?<br /> -How 'midst my longings after higher things<br /> -Within the heart, from guile<br /> -Yet free, didst thou my healthy will transform,<br /> -False traitor to my harm?<br /> -Who is so wise as patiently to see<br /> -How that I entered, free<br /> -And safe, to sing thy glories and thy pains,<br /> -And now upon my neck do feel thy chains?</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Twere right that I should of myself complain,</span><br /> -Nor to thee give the blame,<br /> -That 'gainst thy fire I did not strive to fight.<br /> -I yielded, and the wind, amidst my shame,<br /> -That slept, I roused amain<br /> -Even the wind of chance with furious might.<br /> -A just decree and right<br /> -Hath Heaven pronounced against me that I die;<br /> -This only fear have I,<br /> -Amidst my luckless fate and hapless doom,<br /> -Misfortune will not end e'en in the tomb.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou, sweetest friend, and thou, my sweetest foe,</span><br /> -Timbrio, Nisida fair,<br /> -Happy and hapless both? What unjust power<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72"></a>[Pg 72]</span><br /> -Of ruthless fate, what unrelenting star,<br /> -Enemy of my woe,<br /> -Hard and unkind, hath in this evil hour<br /> -Parted us evermore?<br /> -Oh wretched and unstable lot of man!<br /> -How soon to sudden pain<br /> -Is changed our joy, that swiftly flies away,<br /> -And cloudy night doth follow cloudless day!</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">What man will put his trust with might and main</span><br /> -In the instability<br /> -And in the change, pervading human things?<br /> -On hasty pinions time away doth flee<br /> -And draweth in its train<br /> -The hope of him who weeps, and him who sings.<br /> -Whenever Heaven brings<br /> -Its favour, 'tis to him, in holy love<br /> -Raising to Heaven above<br /> -The soul dissolved in heavenly passion's fire,<br /> -To him that doth nor loss nor gain desire.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Here, gracious Lord, with all my power I raise</span><br /> -To holy Heaven on high<br /> -My hands, my eyes, my thoughts, in prayer always;<br /> -My soul doth hope thereby<br /> -To see its ceaseless mourning turned to praise.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">With a deep sigh, the secluded youth, who was within the -hermitage, ended his mournful song, and the shepherds, perceiving -that he was not going on, without more delay, went in -all together, and saw there, at one end, sitting on a hard stone, -a comely and graceful youth, apparently two and twenty years -of age, clad in a rough kersey, his feet unshod and his -body girt with a coarse rope, which served him as belt. -His head was drooping on one side, one hand clutched -the portion of the tunic over his heart, the other arm fell -limply on the other side. As they saw him in this plight, -and as he had made no movement on the entry of the -shepherds, they clearly recognised that he had fainted, as was -the truth, for his deep brooding over his sorrows often brought -him to such a pass. Erastro went up to him, and seizing him -roughly by the arm, made him come to himself, though so dazed -that he seemed to be waking from a heavy sleep; which tokens -of grief caused no small grief in those who witnessed it, and -straightway Erastro said to him:</p> - -<p>'What is it, sir, that your troubled breast feels? Do not fail -to tell it, for you have before you those who will not refuse any -trouble to give relief to yours.'</p> - -<p>'These are not the first offers you have made me,' replied the -young man with voice somewhat faint, 'nor yet would they be<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73"></a>[Pg 73]</span> -the last I would try to make use of, if I could; but fortune has -brought me to such a pass, that neither can they avail me, nor -can I do justice to them more than in will. This you can take -in return for the good you offer me; and if you wish to learn -aught else concerning me, time, which conceals nothing, will -tell you more than I could wish.'</p> - -<p>'If you leave it to time to satisfy me in what you tell me,' -replied Erastro, 'to such payment small gratitude is due, since -time, in our despite, brings into the market-place the deepest -secret of our hearts.'</p> - -<p>Thereupon the rest of the shepherds all asked him to tell -them the cause of his sorrow, especially Thyrsis, who, with -powerful arguments, persuaded him and gave him to understand, -that there is no evil in this life but brings with it its cure, -unless death, that interrupts man's course, opposes it. Thereto -he added other words, which moved the obstinate boy with his -to satisfy them all on what they wished to learn from him: and -so he said to them:</p> - -<p>'Though for me it were better, my pleasant friends, to live the -little that remains to me of life without friendship, and to retire -to a greater solitude than that in which I am, yet, not to show -myself irresponsive to the good-will you have shown me, I -decide to tell you all that I think will be sufficient, and the -passes through which fickle fortune has brought me to the -strait in which I am. But as it seems to me that it is now somewhat -late, and that, as my misfortunes are many, it might be -possible for night to come on before I have told you them, it -will be well for us all to go to the village together, since it causes -me no further inconvenience to make the journey to-night I had -determined on to-morrow, which is compulsory for me, since -from your village I am provided with what I need for my sustenance; -and on the way, as best we can, I will inform you of -my adversities.'</p> - -<p>All approved of what the young hermit said, and setting him -in their midst, they turned with loitering steps to follow the -road to the village; and straightway the sorrowing hermit, with -tokens of great grief, began in this wise the tale of his woes:</p> - -<p>'In the ancient and famous city of Xeres, whose inhabitants -are favoured of Minerva and Mars, was born Timbrio, a valiant -knight, and if I had to relate his virtues and nobility of soul, I -would set myself a difficult task. It is enough to know that, -whether by his great goodness, or by the power of the stars -which drew me to it, I sought in every possible way to be his -particular friend; and in this Heaven was so kind to me, that -those who knew us, almost forgetting the name of Timbrio and -that of Silerio (which is mine) merely called us the two friends, -and we, by our constant converse and friendly deeds caused -this to be no idle opinion. In this wise we two passed our<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74"></a>[Pg 74]</span> -youthful years in incredible joy and happiness, engaging ourselves -now in the field in the pastime of the chase, now in the -city in that of honourable Mars, until, one day (of the many unlucky -days that hostile time has made me see in the course of my -life), there happened to my friend Timbrio a weighty quarrel -with a powerful knight, an inhabitant of the same city. The -dispute came to such a pass that the knight remained wounded -in his honour and Timbrio was obliged to absent himself, to -give an opportunity for the furious discord to cease, which was -beginning to kindle between the two families. He left a letter -written to his enemy, informing him that he would find him in -Italy, in the city of Milan or in Naples, whenever, as a knight, -he should wish to have satisfaction for the insult done him. -With this the factions between the kinsmen of both ceased: -and it was ordained that the offended knight, who was called -Pransiles, should challenge Timbrio to equal and mortal -combat, and that, on finding a safe field for the combat, he -should inform Timbrio. My luckless fate further ordained that, -at the time this happened, I should find myself so failing in -health, that I scarce could rise from my bed. And from this -chance, I lost that of following my friend wherever he might be -going, who, on parting, took his leave of me with no small discontent, -charging me, on recovering strength, to seek him, for -that I would find him in the city of Naples; and he left me with -greater pain than I can now express to you. But at the end of -a few days (the desire I had to see him prevailing on me more -than the weakness that wearied me), I set myself straightway -on the journey; and, in order that I might accomplish it with -more speed and safety, fortune offered me the convenience of -four galleys, which were lying ready equipped off the famous -isle of Cádiz for departure to Italy. I embarked on one of -them, and with a prosperous wind we soon discovered the -Catalán shores; and when we had cast anchor in a harbour -there, I, being somewhat weary of the sea, first making sure that -the galleys were not leaving there that night, disembarked with -only a friend and a servant of mine. I do not think it could -have been midnight, when the sailors and those that had the -galleys in charge, seeing that the serenity of the sky betokened -a calm, or a prosperous wind, so as not to lose the good -opportunity offered to them, at the second watch made the -signal for departure; and weighing anchor, with much speed -they set their oars to the smooth sea, and their sails to the -gentle wind, and it was done as I say with such haste, that -for all the haste I made to return to embark, I was not in -time. And so I had to remain on the shore with the -annoyance he can imagine, who has passed through ordinary -occurrences of the kind, for I was badly supplied with everything -that was necessary to continue my journey by land.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75"></a>[Pg 75]</span> -But, reflecting that little remedy was to be hoped from -remaining there, I determined to return to Barcelona, where, -as being a larger city, it might be possible to find someone -to supply me with what I needed, writing to Xeres or -Seville as regards the payment. The morning broke on me, -whilst engaged in these thoughts, and, determined to put -them into practice, I waited till the day should be more -advanced; and when on the point of departing, I perceived -a great sound on land, and all the people running to the -principal street of the place. And when I asked some one -what it was, he replied to me: "Go, sir, to that corner, where -you will learn what you want from the voice of the crier." I -did so, and the first object on which I set eyes was a lofty -crucifix, and a great mob of people, signs that some one -condemned to death was coming among them; and all this -was proved to me by the voice of the crier, declaring that -justice ordered a man to be hanged for having been a robber -and a highwayman. When the man came to me, I straightway -recognised that he was my good friend Timbrio, coming on -foot with fetters on his hands, and a rope round his throat, -his eyes riveted on the crucifix he carried before him. He -was speaking and protesting to the priests who were going -with him, that, by the account he thought, within a few short -hours, to render to the true God, whose image he had before -his eyes, he had never, in all the course of his life, committed -aught for which he deserved to suffer publicly so shameful a -death; and he asked all to ask the judges to give him some -term, to prove how innocent he was of that which they -accused him of. Let it here be imagined, if imagination could -raise itself so high, how I would remain at the terrible sight -offered to my eyes. I know not what to say to you, gentlemen, -save that I remained so amazed and beside myself, and -so bereft of all my senses, that I must have seemed a marble -statue to anyone who saw me at that moment. But now -that the confused murmur of the people, the raised voices of -the criers, the piteous words of Timbrio, and the consolatory -words of the priests, and the undoubted recognition of my -good friend, had brought me from my first amazement, and -the seething blood came to give aid to my fainting heart, -awakening in it the wrath befitting the crying vengeance for -Timbrio's wrong, without regarding the danger I incurred, -but only that of Timbrio, to see if I could set him free or -follow him to the life beyond, fearing but little to lose mine, -I laid hand on my sword; and, with more than ordinary fury, -forced my way through the confused crowd, till I came to where -Timbrio was. He, not knowing if so many swords had been -unsheathed on his behalf, was watching what was going on -with perplexed and anguished mind, until I said to him:<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76"></a>[Pg 76]</span> -"Where, Timbrio, is the strength of your valorous breast? -What do you hope, or what do you wait for? Why not avail -yourself of the present opportunity? seek, true friend, to save -your life whilst mine forms a shield against the injustice, -which I think is being done you here." These words of -mine and Timbrio's recognition of me caused him to forget all -fear and to break the bonds or fetters from his hands; but all -his ardour would have availed little, had not the priests, moved -with compassion, aided his wish. These seized him bodily, and -despite those who sought to hinder it, entered with him into a -church hard by, leaving me in the midst of all the officers of -justice, who with great persistence endeavoured to seize me, as -at last they did, since my strength alone was not capable of -resisting so many strengths combined; and with more violence -than in my opinion my offence deserved, they took me to the -public gaol, wounded with two wounds. My boldness and the -fact that Timbrio had escaped increased my fault, and the -judges' anger; they, weighing carefully the crime committed by -me, deeming it just that I should die, straightway pronounced -the cruel sentence and awaited another day to execute it. This -sad news came to Timbrio there in the church where he was, -and as I afterwards learned, my sentence caused him more -emotion than his own death-sentence had done; and to free -me from it, he again offered to surrender himself once more -to the power of the law; but the priests advised him that that -was of little avail, nay rather, was adding evil to evil and misfortune -to misfortune, since his surrender would not bring about -my release, for that it could not take place without my being -punished for the fault committed. Not a few arguments were -needed to persuade Timbrio not to give himself up to justice; -but he calmed himself by deciding in his mind to do for me -next day what I had done for him, in order to pay me in the -same coin or die in the attempt. I was informed of all his -intentions by a priest who came to confess me, through whom I -sent him word that the best remedy my calamity could have was -that he should escape and seek with all speed to inform the -viceroy of Barcelona of all that had happened, before the judges -of that place should execute judgment on him. I also learned -the reason why my friend Timbrio was consigned to bitter -punishment, as the same priest I have mentioned to you told -me; it was that, as Timbrio came journeying through the kingdom -of Catalonia, on leaving Perpignan, he fell in with a number -of brigands, who had as lord and chief a valiant Catalán gentleman, -who by reason of certain enmities was in the band—as it -is the time-honoured custom of that kingdom for those who have -suffered from an enemy, whenever they are persons of mark, to -join one, and to inflict all the evil they can, not only on lives, but -on property, a practice opposed to all Christianity, and worthy<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77"></a>[Pg 77]</span> -of all commiseration. It happened then that while the brigands -were busied in robbing Timbrio of what he had with him, that -moment their lord and captain came up, and as after all he was -a gentleman, he did not wish that any wrong should be done to -Timbrio before his eyes; but rather, deeming him a man of -worth and talents, he made him a thousand courteous offers, -asking him to remain with him that night in a place near by, for -that on the morrow he would give him a safe-conduct so that -without any fear he might pursue his journey until he left that -province. Timbrio could not but do what the courteous gentleman -asked of him, constrained by the good offices received from -him; they went off together and came to a little spot where -they were joyously received by the people of the place. But -fortune, which up till then had jested with Timbrio, ordained -that that same night a company of soldiers, gathered together for -this very purpose, should fall in with the brigands: and having -surprised them, they easily routed them. And though they -could not seize the captain, they seized and killed many others, -and one of the prisoners was Timbrio, whom they took for a -notorious robber in that band, and as you may imagine, he must -undoubtedly have much resembled him, since, though the other -prisoners testified that he was not the man they thought, telling -the truth about all that had happened, yet malice had such -power in the breasts of the judges that without further inquiry -they sentenced him to death. And this would have been carried -out, had not Heaven, that favours just purposes, ordained that the -galleys should depart, and I remain on land to do what I have -so far been telling you I did. Timbrio was in the church, and I -in gaol, arranging that he should set out that night for Barcelona, -and while I was waiting to see where the rage of the offended -judges would end, Timbrio and I were freed from our -misfortune amidst another yet greater that befell them. But -would that Heaven had been kind and wreaked on me alone the -fury of its wrath, if but it had been averted from that poor unfortunate -people who placed their wretched necks beneath the -edges of a thousand barbarous swords. It would be a little more -than midnight, an hour suited for wicked onslaughts, at which -the wearied world is wont to yield its wearied limbs to the arms -of sweet sleep, when suddenly there arose among all the people -a confused hubbub of voices crying: "To arms, to arms, the -Turks are in the land." The echoes of these sad cries—who -doubts but that they caused terror in the breasts of the women -and even set consternation in the brave hearts of the men? I -know not what to say to you, sirs, save that in an instant the -wretched land began to burn so greedily that the very stones -with which the houses were built seemed but to offer fitting fuel -to the kindled fire that was consuming all. By the light of the -raging flames the barbarous scimetars were seen flashing and the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78"></a>[Pg 78]</span> -white turbans appearing of the Turks, who, all aflame, were -breaking down the doors of the houses with axes or hatchets of -hard steel, and entering therein, were coming out laden with -Christian spoils. One carried the wearied mother, another the -tender little son, who with faint and weak groans pleaded, the -mother for her son, and the son for his mother; and one I know -there was who with profane hand stayed the fulfilment of the -rightful desire of the chaste maiden newly-wed and of the hapless -husband, before whose weeping eyes mayhap he saw culled -the fruit the ill-starred one was thinking in a short time to enjoy. -So great was the confusion, so many the cries and minglings of -these different voices that they caused much terror. The -savage and devilish rabble, seeing what little resistance was -made them, dared to enter the hallowed temples, and lay infidel -hands on the holy relics, placing in their bosoms the gold with -which they were adorned, and dashing them to the ground with -loathsome contempt. Little availed the priest his holiness, the -friar his refuge, the old man his snowy hair, the boy his gallant -youth, or the little child his simple innocence, for from all those -unbelieving dogs carried off booty. They, after burning the -houses, robbing the temple, deflowering the maidens, and slaying -the defenders, at the time the dawn was coming, more wearied -than sated with what they had done, returned without any -hindrance to their vessels, having already loaded them with -all the best the village contained, leaving it desolate and without -inhabitant, for they were taking with them nearly all the -people and the rest had taken refuge in the mountain. Who at -so sad a sight could have kept his hands still and his eyes dry? -But, ah! our life is so full of woes that, for all the mournful -disaster I have related to you, there were Christian hearts that -rejoiced, even those of the men in the gaol who, amidst the -general unhappiness, recovered their own happiness, for, pretending -to go and defend the village, they broke the gates of the -prison, and set themselves free, each one seeking not to attack -the enemy, but to save himself, and amongst them I enjoyed the -freedom so dearly gained. And seeing there was no one to face -the enemy, through fear of falling into their clutches, or returning -to the clutches of the prison, forsaking the wasted village, -with no small pain at what I had seen, and with that caused by -my wounds, I followed a man who told me he would bring me -safely to a monastery which was in those mountains, where I -would be cured of my hurts and even defended, if they sought -to seize me again. In a word I followed him, as I have told you, -in the desire to learn what my friend Timbrio's fortune had -wrought; he, as I afterwards learned, had escaped with some -wounds, and followed over the mountain another road different -from that I took; he stopped at the port of Rosas, where he -remained some days, seeking to learn what fate had been mine,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79"></a>[Pg 79]</span> -and at last, not learning any news, he went away in a ship and -came with a favouring wind to the great city of Naples. I -returned to Barcelona, and there furnished myself with what I -needed; and then, being healed of my wounds, I resumed -my journey, and, no misadventure happening to me, came to -Naples, where I found Timbrio ill; and such was the joy we -both felt at seeing each other, that I have not the power to -describe it properly to you now. There we told each other -of our lives, and of all that had happened to us up to that -moment; but this my pleasure was all watered by seeing -Timbrio not so well as I could wish, nay rather so ill, and with -so strange a disease, that if I had not come at that moment, I -might have come in time to perform the rites of his death, and -not to celebrate the joys of seeing him. After he had learnt -from me all he wanted, with tears in his eyes he said to me: -"Ah, friend Silerio! I truly think that Heaven seeks to add to the -load of my misfortunes, so that, by giving me health through -your safety, I may remain every day under greater obligation -to serve you." These words of Timbrio's moved me; but, as -they seemed to me courtesies so little used between us, they -filled me with wonder. And not to weary you in telling you -word for word what I replied to him, and what he answered -further, I shall only tell you that Timbrio, unhappy man, was -in love with a notable lady of that city, whose parents were -Spaniards, though she had been born in Naples. Her name -was Nisida, and her beauty so great, that I make bold to say -that nature summed up in her its highest perfections; and in her -modesty and beauty were so united, that what the one enflamed -the other chilled, and the desires her grace raised to the loftiest -heaven, her modest propriety brought down to the lowest depths -of earth. From this cause Timbrio was as poor in hope as rich -in thoughts; and above all failing in health, and in the plight of -ending his days without disclosing his state—such was the fear -and reverence he had conceived for the fair Nisida. But after I -had fully learnt his disease, and had seen Nisida, and considered -the quality and nobility of her parents, I determined to waive for -him property, life and honour, and more, if more I had in my -power to bestow. And so I employed an artifice, the strangest -heard or read of up till now; which was, that I decided to dress -up as a buffoon, and with a guitar to enter Nisida's house, which, -as her parents were, as I have said, among the principal people -of the city, was frequented by many other buffoons. This -decision seemed good to Timbrio, and straightway he left to the -hands of my skill all his happiness. Forthwith I had several -elegant costumes made, of various kinds, and, putting them on, -I began to rehearse my new character before Timbrio, who -laughed not a little at seeing me thus clothed in buffoon's garb; -and to see if my skill equalled the dress, he told me to say some<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80"></a>[Pg 80]</span>thing -to him, pretending that he was a great prince, and I newly -come to visit him. And if memory does not fail me, and you, -sirs, are not tired of listening to me, I will tell you what I sang -to him then, as it was the first time.'</p> - -<p>All said that nothing would give them greater pleasure, than -to learn in detail all the issue of his affair, and so they bade -him not to fail to tell them anything, however trivial it might be.</p> - -<p>'Since you give me this permission,' said the hermit, 'I have -no desire to fail to tell you how I began to give examples of my -foolery, for it was with these verses that I sang to Timbrio, -imagining him to be a great lord to whom I was saying -them:</p> - -<p class="p01">S<small>ILERIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">From a prince whose path is true,</div> -<div class="verse">Levelled by a rule so right,</div> -<div class="verse"><em>What, save deeds that Heaven delight,</em></div> -<div class="verse"><em>Can we hope from him to view?</em></div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">Neither in this present age,</div> -<div class="verse">Nor in times of long ago,</div> -<div class="verse">Hath a State been ruled, I know,</div> -<div class="verse">By a prince who is so sage,</div> -<div class="verse">One whose zeal is measured true</div> -<div class="verse">By the Christian rule of right:—</div> -<div class="verse"><em>What, save deeds that Heaven delight,</em></div> -<div class="verse"><em>Can we hope from him to view?</em></div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">For another's good he toils,</div> -<div class="verse">Mercy ever in his eye,</div> -<div class="verse">In his bosom equity,</div> -<div class="verse">Seeking ne'er another's spoils:</div> -<div class="verse">Unto him the most, 'tis true,</div> -<div class="verse">In the world the least is, quite:—</div> -<div class="verse"><em>What, save deeds that Heaven delight,</em></div> -<div class="verse"><em>Can we hope from him to view?</em></div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">And thy name for kindly Love,</div> -<div class="verse">Which doth raise itself to Heaven,</div> -<div class="verse">That a holy soul hath given</div> -<div class="verse">Unto thee, doth clearly prove</div> -<div class="verse">That thy course thou keepest true,</div> -<div class="verse">And art loyal to Heaven's right:—</div> -<div class="verse"><em>What, save deeds that Heaven delight,</em></div> -<div class="verse"><em>Can we hope from him to view?</em></div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">When a prince's Christian breast</div> -<div class="verse">Shrinketh aye from cruelty,</div> -<div class="verse">Righteousness and clemency</div> -<div class="verse">Are his guardians trustiest:</div> -<div class="verse">When a prince, where none pursue,</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81"></a>[Pg 81]</span> -<div class="verse">Towards the sky, doth raise his flight:—</div> -<div class="verse"><em>What, save deeds that Heaven delight,</em></div> -<div class="verse"><em>Can we hope from him to view?</em></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">'These and other things of more jest and laughter I then sang -to Timbrio, seeking to adapt the spirit and bearing of my body, -so that I might in every way show myself a practised buffoon: -and so well did I get on in the part, that in a few days I was -known by all the chief people in the city, and the fame of the -Spanish buffoon flew through it all, until at last they desired to -see me in the house of Nisida's father, which desire I would have -fulfilled for them with much readiness, if I had not purposely -waited to be asked. But at length I could not excuse myself -from going there one day when they had a banquet, where I -saw more closely the just cause Timbrio had for suffering, and -that which Heaven gave me to rob me of happiness all the days -I shall remain in this life. I saw Nisida, Nisida I saw, that I -might see no more, nor is there more to see after having seen -her. Oh mighty power of love, against which our mighty -powers avail but little! can it be that in an instant, in a moment, -thou shouldst bring the props and armaments of my loyalty to -such a pass, as to level them all with the ground! Ah, if only -the thought of who I was had stayed with me a little for aid, -the friendship I owed to Timbrio, Nisida's great worth, and the -ignominious costume in which I found myself, which all hindered -the hope of winning her (the staff wherewith love, in the -beginnings of love, advances or retires) from springing up -together with the new and loving desire that had sprung up in -me. In a word I saw the beauty I have told you, and since to -see her was of such moment to me, I sought ever to win the -friendship of her parents, and of all her household; and -this by playing the wit and the man of breeding, playing -my part with the greatest discretion and grace in my power. -And when a gentleman who was at table that day asked -me to sing something in praise of Nisida's beauty, fortune -willed that I should call to mind some verses, which I had -made, many days before, for another all but similar occasion; -and adopting them for the present one, I repeated them to -this effect:</p> - -<p class="p01">S<small>ILERIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2"> 'Tis from thine own self we see,</div> -<div class="verse">Lady fair, how kind is Heaven,</div> -<div class="verse">For it hath, in giving thee,</div> -<div class="verse">Unto earth an image given,</div> -<div class="verse">Of its veiled radiancy.</div> -<div class="verse">Easily we come to know,</div> -<div class="verse">If it could not more bestow</div> -<div class="verse">And thou couldst no more desire,</div> -<div class="verse">That he highly must aspire,</div> -<div class="verse">Who aspires your praise to show.</div> -</div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82"></a>[Pg 82]</span></p> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">All the sovereign, matchless grace</div> -<div class="verse">Of that beauty from afar,</div> -<div class="verse">Which to Heaven doth us raise,</div> -<div class="verse">Tongue of man could not but mar,—</div> -<div class="verse">Let the tongue of Heaven praise,</div> -<div class="verse">Saying,—and 'tis not in vain—</div> -<div class="verse">That the soul which doth contain</div> -<div class="verse">Such a being for its pride,</div> -<div class="verse">More than aught on earth beside</div> -<div class="verse">Should the lovely veil attain.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">From the sun she took her hair,</div> -<div class="verse">From the peaceful Heaven her brow,</div> -<div class="verse">Of her eyes the light so fair</div> -<div class="verse">From a radiant star which now</div> -<div class="verse">Shineth not when they are there;</div> -<div class="verse">From the cochineal and the snow,</div> -<div class="verse">Boldly and with might, I trow,</div> -<div class="verse">Did she steal their lovely hue,</div> -<div class="verse">For to thy fair cheek is due</div> -<div class="verse">The perfections that they show.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft2">Teeth and lips of ivory</div> -<div class="verse">And of coral, whence a spring</div> -<div class="verse">Issues, rich in fantasy,</div> -<div class="verse">Full of wisest reasoning,</div> -<div class="verse">And celestial harmony;</div> -<div class="verse">But of marble stubbornest</div> -<div class="verse">She hath made her lovely breast,</div> -<div class="verse">Yet in truth we see that earth</div> -<div class="verse">Is made better by her worth, </div> -<div class="verse">E'en as Heaven itself is blest.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">'With these and other things that I then sang, all were so -charmed with me, and especially Nisida's parents, that they -offered me all I might need, and asked me to let no day go by -without visiting them; and so, without my purpose being discovered -or imagined, I came to achieve my first design, which was -to expedite my entrance into the house of Nisida, who enjoyed -extremely my bright ways. But now that the lapse of many -days, and my frequent converse and the great friendship -all that household showed me, had removed some shadows -from the excessive fear I felt at disclosing my intent to Nisida, -I determined to see how far went the fortune of Timbrio, whose -only hope for it lay in my solicitude. But woe is me! I was -then more ready to ask a salve for my wound than health for -another's; for Nisida's grace, beauty, discretion, and modesty -had so wrought in my soul that it was placed in no less an extreme -of grief and love than that of hapless Timbrio. To your<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83"></a>[Pg 83]</span> -discreet imagination I leave it to picture what a heart could -feel in which there fought, on the one hand, the laws of friendship, -and, on the other, the inviolable laws of Cupid; for, if -those obliged it not to go beyond what they and reason asked of -it, these constrained it to set store by what was due to its -happiness. These attacks and struggles afflicted me in such -wise that, without procuring another's health I began to have -fears for my own, and to grow so weak and pale that I caused -general compassion in all that saw me, and those who showed -it most were Nisida's parents; and even she herself, with pure -and Christian sympathy, often asked me to tell her the cause of -my disease, offering me all that was necessary for its cure. -"Ah!" would I say to myself whenever Nisida made me such -offers, "with what ease, fair Nisida, could your hand cure the -evil your beauty has wrought! but I boast myself so good a -friend that, though I counted my cure as certain as I count it -impossible and uncertain, it would be impossible for me to -accept it." And since these thoughts at such moments disturbed -my fancy, I did not succeed in making any reply to Nisida; -whereat she and a sister of hers, who was called Blanca (less -in years, though not less in discretion and beauty than Nisida), -were amazed, and with increasing desire to know the origin -of my sadness, with many importunities asked me to conceal -from them nought of my grief. Seeing, then, that fortune -offered me the opportunity of putting into practice what my -cunning had brought so far, once, when by chance the fair Nisida -and her sister found themselves alone, and returned anew to -ask what they had asked so often, I said to them: "Think not, -ladies, that the silence I have up till now kept in not telling you -the cause of the pain you imagine I feel has been caused by my -small desire to obey you, since it is very clear that if my lowly -state has any happiness in this life, it is to have thereby -succeeded in coming to know you, and to serve you as retainer. -The only cause has been the thought that, though I reveal it, it -will not serve for more than to give you grief, seeing how far away -is its cure. But now that it is forced upon me to satisfy you in -this, you must know, ladies, that in this city is a gentleman, -a native of my own country, whom I hold as master, refuge, and -friend, the most generous, discreet, and courtly man that may -be found far and wide. He is here, away from his dear native -land, by reason of certain quarrels which befell him there and -forced him to come to this city, believing that, if there in his -own land he left enemies, here in a foreign land friends would -not fail him. But his belief has turned out so mistaken that -one enemy alone, whom, without knowing how, he has made -here for himself, has placed him in such a pass that if Heaven -do not help him he will end his friendships and enmities by -ending his life. And as I know the worth of Timbrio (for this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84"></a>[Pg 84]</span> -is the name of the gentleman whose misfortune I am relating to -you), and know what the world will lose in losing him and -what I shall lose if I lose him, I give the tokens of feeling you -have seen, and even they are small compared to what the danger -in which Timbrio is placed ought to move me to. I know well -that you will desire to know, ladies, who is the enemy who has -placed so valorous a gentleman as he whom I have depicted to -you in such a pass; but I also know that, in naming him to -you, you will not wonder save that he has not yet destroyed -him and slain him. His enemy is love, the universal destroyer -of our peace and prosperity; this fierce enemy took possession -of his heart. On entering this city Timbrio beheld a fair lady -of singular worth and beauty, but so high placed and so modest -that the hapless one has never dared to reveal to her his -thought." To this point had I come when Nisida said to me: -"Truly, Astor," for this was my name for the nonce, "I know not -if I can believe that that gentleman is as valorous and discreet -as you say, since he has allowed himself so easily to surrender -to an evil desire so newly born, yielding himself so needlessly -to the arms of despair; and though I understand but little -these effects of love, yet it seems to me that it is folly and -weakness for him who is cast down by them to fail to reveal his -thoughts to her who inspires it in him, though she be of all the -worth conceivable. For what shame can result to her from -knowing that she is well loved, or to him what greater evil from -her harsh and petulant reply than the death he himself brings -on himself by being silent? It would not be right that -because a judge has a reputation for sternness, anyone should -fail to allege proof of his claim. But let us suppose that the -death take place of a lover as silent and timid as that friend of -yours; tell me, would you call the lady with whom he was in -love cruel? No indeed, for one can scarcely relieve the need -which does not come to one's knowledge, nor does it fall within -one's duty to seek to learn it so as to relieve it. So, forgive me, -Astor, but the deeds of that friend of yours do not make very -true the praises you give him." When I heard such words -from Nisida, straightway I could have wished by mine to reveal -to her all the secret of my breast, but, as I understood the -goodness and simplicity with which she expressed them, I had -to check myself, waiting for a better and more private opportunity, -and thus I replied to her: "When the affairs of love, -fair Nisida, are regarded with free eyes, follies so great are seen -in them that they are no less worthy of laughter than of pity: -but if the soul finds itself entangled in love's subtle net, then the -feelings are so fettered and so beside their wonted selves, that -memory merely serves as treasurer and guardian of the object the -eyes have regarded, the understanding is of use only in searching -into and learning the worth of her whom it loves well, and the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85"></a>[Pg 85]</span> -will in consenting that the memory and understanding should -not busy themselves with aught else: and so the eyes see like a -silvered mirror, for they make everything larger. Now hope -increases when they are favoured, now fear when they are cast -down; and thus what has happened to Timbrio, happens to -many, that deeming at first very high the object to which their -eyes were raised, they lose the hope of attaining it, but not in -such wise that love does not say to them there within the soul: -Who knows? it might be; and thereat hope goes, as the saying -is, between two waters, while if it should forsake them altogether, -love would flee with it. And hence it arises that the heart of -the afflicted lover walks between fearing and daring, and without -venturing to tell it, he braces himself up, and presses together -his wound, hoping, though he knows not from whom, for the -remedy from which he sees himself so far away. In this very -plight I have found Timbrio, though, in spite of all, he has, at -my persuasion, written to the lady for whom he is dying, a -letter which he gave to me that I might give it to her and see if -there appeared in it anything in any way unseemly, so that -I might correct it. He charged me also to seek the means of -placing it in his lady's hands, which, I think, will be impossible, -not because I will not hazard it, since the least I will hazard to -serve him will be life, but because it seems to me that I shall -not find an opportunity to give it." "Let us see it," said -Nisida, "for I wish to see how discreet lovers write." Straightway -I drew from my bosom a letter which had been written -some days before, in the hope of an opportunity for Nisida to -see it, and fortune offering to me this one, I showed it to her. -As I had read it many times, it remained in my memory, and -its words were these:</p> - - -<p class="center p1">T<small>IMBRIO TO</small> N<small>ISIDA.</small></p> - -<p>"I had determined, fair lady, that my ill-starred end might -declare to you who I was, since it seemed to me better that you -should praise my silence in death than blame my boldness in -life; but as I think it befits my soul to leave this world in -favour with you, so that in the next love may not deny it the -reward for what it has suffered, I make you cognisant of the -state in which your rare beauty has placed me. It is such that, -though I could indicate it, I would not obtain its cure, since for -small things no one should make bold to offend your exalted -worth, whereby, and by your honourable generosity I hope to -renew life to serve you, or to win death to offend you never -more."</p> - -<p>'Nisida was listening with much attention to this letter, -and, when she had heard it all, said: "The lady to whom this -letter is sent has naught to complain of, unless, from pure -pride, she has become prudish, a failing from which the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86"></a>[Pg 86]</span> -greater part of the ladies in this city are not free. But -nevertheless, Astor, do not fail to give it to her, since, as -I have already told you, more evil cannot be expected from -her reply, than that the evil you say your friend suffers -now should become worse. And to encourage you the more, -I wish to assure you that there is no woman so coy and -so on the alert to watch over her honour that it grieves -her much to see and learn that she is loved, for then she -knows that the opinion she holds of herself is not vain, -while it would be the contrary if she saw she was wooed -by none." "I know well, lady, that what you say is true," -I replied, "but I am afraid that, if I make bold to give it, -it must at least cost me the refusal of admittance henceforward -into that house, whereat there would come to me -no less hurt than to Timbrio." "Seek not, Astor," replied -Nisida, "to confirm the sentence which the judge has not -yet given. Be of good courage, for this on which you -venture is no fierce conflict." "Would to Heaven, fair -Nisida," I answered, "that I saw myself in that pass, for -more readily would I offer my breast to the danger and -fierceness of a thousand opposing arms than my hand to -give this loving letter to her who, I fear, being offended -by it, must hurl upon my shoulders the punishment another's -fault deserves. But, in spite of these objections, I intend -to follow, lady, the counsel you have given me, though I -shall wait for a time when fear shall not occupy my feelings -as much as now. Meanwhile I entreat you to pretend that -you are the one to whom this letter is sent, and give me -some reply to take to Timbrio, in order that by this deceit -he may be comforted a little, and time and opportunities -may reveal to me what I am to do." "A poor artifice you -would employ," answered Nisida, "for, granted that I were -now to give, in another's name, some soft or disdainful -reply, do you not see that time, that discloses our ends, -will clear up the deceit, and Timbrio will be more angry -with you than satisfied? Especially as since I have not -hitherto replied to such letters, I would not wish to -begin by giving replies in a feigned and lying manner; -but, though I know I am going contrary to what I owe -to myself, if you promise to tell me who the lady is, I -will tell you what to say to your friend, and such words -that he will be pleased for the nonce, and even though -afterwards things turn out contrary to what he thinks, the -lie will not be found out thereby." "Do not ask this of me, -Nisida," I answered, "for to tell you her name places me in -confusion as great as I would be placed in if I gave her -the letter. Suffice it to know that she is of high degree, -and that, without doing you any detriment, she is not inferior<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87"></a>[Pg 87]</span> -to you in beauty, and saying this, it seems to me, I praise -her more than all women born." "I am not surprised that -you say this of me," said Nisida, "since, with men of your -condition and calling, to flatter is their business; but, -leaving all this on one side, as I do not wish you to lose -the comfort of so good a friend, I advise you to tell -him that you went to give the letter to his lady, and -that you have held with her all the discourses you have -held with me, without omitting anything, and how she read -your letter, and the encouragement she gave you to take it -to his lady, thinking she was not the one to whom it came, -and that, though you did not make bold to declare everything, -you have come to this conclusion from her words -that, when she learns she is the one for whom the letter -came, the deceit and the undeceiving will not cause her -much pain. In this way he will receive some solace in -his trouble, and afterwards, on revealing your intention -to his lady, you can reply to Timbrio what she replies -to you, since, up to the moment she knows it, this lie -remains in force, and the truth of what may follow, -without to-day's deceit interfering." I was left marvelling -at Nisida's discreet project, and indeed not without mistrust -of the honesty of my own artifice; and so, kissing her -hands for the good counsel, and agreeing with her that I -was to give her a particular account of whatever happened in -this affair, I went and told Timbrio all that had happened -to me with Nisida. Thence came it that hope came into -his soul and turned anew to sustain him, banishing -from his heart the clouds of chilly fear that up till then -had kept him in gloom; and all this pleasure was increased -by my promising him at every step that my -steps should only be devoted to his service, and that when -next I found myself with Nisida, he should win the game -of skill with as fair a success as his thoughts deserved. -One thing I have forgotten to tell you, that all the time -I was talking with Nisida and her sister, the younger sister -never spoke a word, but with a strange silence ever hung -on mine; and I can tell you, sirs, that, if she was silent, -it was not because she could not speak with all discretion -and grace, for in these two sisters nature showed all she -has in her power to bestow. Nevertheless, I know not if -I should tell you that I would that Heaven had denied me -the happiness of having known them, especially Nisida, -the beginning and end of all my misfortune; but what -can I do, if that which the fates have ordained cannot be -stayed by human means? I loved, love, and shall love -Nisida well, yet without hurt to Timbrio, as my wearied -tongue has well shown, for I never spoke to her, but it<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88"></a>[Pg 88]</span> -was on Timbrio's behalf, ever concealing, with more than -ordinary discretion, my own pain, so as to cure another's. -It happened then, that as Nisida's beauty was so engraven -on my soul from the first moment my eyes beheld her, -being unable to keep so rich a treasure concealed in my -breast, whenever I found myself at times alone or apart, -I used to reveal it in some loving and mournful songs -under the veil of a feigned name. And so one night, -thinking that neither Timbrio nor anyone else was listening -to me, to comfort somewhat my wearied spirit, in a retired -apartment, to the accompaniment only of a lute, I sang some -verses, which, as they placed me in the direst turmoil, I shall -have to repeat to you. They were as follows:</p> - -<div class="p01">S<small>ILERIO.</small></div> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">What labyrinth is this that doth contain</div> -<div class="verse">My foolish and exalted fantasy?</div> -<div class="verse">Who hath my peace transformed to war and pain,</div> -<div class="verse">And to such sadness all my jollity?</div> -<div class="verse">Unto this land, where I can hope to gain</div> -<div class="verse">A tomb alone, what fate hath guided me?</div> -<div class="verse">Who, who, once more will guide my wandering thought</div> -<div class="verse">Unto the bounds a healthy mind hath sought?</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Could I but cleave this breast of mine in twain,</div> -<div class="verse">Could I but rob myself of dearest life,</div> -<div class="verse">That earth and Heaven, at last content, might deign</div> -<div class="verse">To leave me loyal 'midst my passion's strife,</div> -<div class="verse">Without my faltering when I feel the pain,</div> -<div class="verse">With mine own hand would I direct the knife</div> -<div class="verse">Against my breast, but if I die, there dies</div> -<div class="verse">His hope of love; the fire doth higher rise.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Let the blind god his golden arrows shower</div> -<div class="verse">In torrents, straight against my mournful heart</div> -<div class="verse">Aiming in maddened frenzy, let the power</div> -<div class="verse">Of fiercest rage direct the cruel dart;</div> -<div class="verse">For, lo, of happiness a plenteous store</div> -<div class="verse">I gain, when I conceal the grievous smart;</div> -<div class="verse">Ashes and dust though stricken breast become,</div> -<div class="verse">Rich is the guerdon of my noble doom.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Eternal silence on my wearied tongue</div> -<div class="verse">The law of loyal friendship will impose,</div> -<div class="verse">By whose unequalled virtue grows less strong</div> -<div class="verse">The pain that never hopes to find repose;</div> -<div class="verse">But, though it never cease, and seek to wrong</div> -<div class="verse">My health and honour, yet, amidst my woes,</div> -<div class="verse">My faith, as ever, shall more steadfast be</div> -<div class="verse">Than firmest rock amidst the angry sea.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">The moisture that my weeping eyes distil,</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89"></a>[Pg 89]</span> -<div class="verse">The duteous service that my tongue can do,</div> -<div class="verse">The sacrifice I offer of my will,</div> -<div class="verse">The happiness that to my toil is due,</div> -<div class="verse">These gain sweet spoil and recompense; but still,</div> -<div class="verse">'Tis he must take them, he my friend so true;</div> -<div class="verse">May Heaven be gracious to my fond design</div> -<div class="verse">Which seeks another's good and loses mine.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Help me, oh gentle Love, uplift and guide</div> -<div class="verse">My feeble spirit in the doubtful hour,</div> -<div class="verse">To soul and faltering tongue, whate'er betide,</div> -<div class="verse">Send in the long-expected moment power,</div> -<div class="verse">That shall be strong, with boldness at its side,</div> -<div class="verse">To make that easy which was hard before,</div> -<div class="verse">And bravely dash upon fate and misfortune,</div> -<div class="verse">Until it shall attain to greatest fortune.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">'It resulted from my being so transported in my endless -imaginings that I did not take heed to sing these verses I have -repeated, in a voice as low as I ought, nor was the place where -I was so secret as to prevent their being listened to by Timbrio; -and when he heard them, it came into his mind that mine was -not free from love, and that if I felt any, it was for Nisida, as -could be gathered from my song; and though he discovered the -true state of my thoughts, he did not discover that of my wishes, -but rather understanding them to be contrary to what I did think, -he decided to depart that very night and go to where he might -be found by nobody, only to leave me the opportunity of alone -serving Nisida. All this I learnt from a page of his, who was -acquainted with all his secrets, who came to me in great distress -and said to me: "Help, Señor Silerio, for Timbrio, my master -and your friend, wishes to leave us and go away this night. -He has not told me where, but only that I should get for him I -do not know how much money, and that I should tell no one he -is going, especially telling me not to tell you: and this thought -came to him after he had been listening to some verse or other -you were singing just now. To judge from the excessive grief -I have seen him display, I think he is on the verge of despair; -and as it seems to me that I ought rather to assist in his cure -than to obey his command, I come to tell it to you, as to one -who can intervene to prevent him putting into practice so -fatal a purpose." With strange dread I listened to what -the page told me, and went straightway to see Timbrio in his -apartment, and, before I went in, I stopped to see what he was -doing. He was stretched on his bed, face downwards, shedding -countless tears accompanied by deep sighs, and with a low voice -and broken words, it seemed to me that he was saying this: -"Seek, my true friend Silerio, to win the fruit your solicitude -and toil has well deserved, and do not seek, by what you think you -owe to friendship for me, to fail to gratify your desire, for I will<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90"></a>[Pg 90]</span> -restrain mine, though it be with the extreme means of death; -for, since you freed me from it, when with such love and fortitude -you offered yourself to the fierceness of a thousand swords, -it is not much that I should now repay you in part for so good a -deed by giving you the opportunity to enjoy her in whom Heaven -summed up all its beauty, and love set all my happiness, without -the hindrance my presence can cause you. One thing only -grieves me, sweet friend, and it is that I cannot bid you farewell -at this bitter parting, but accept for excuse that you are the -cause of it. Oh, Nisida, Nisida! how true is it of your beauty, -that he who dares to look upon it must needs atone for his fault -by the penalty of dying for it! Silerio saw it, and if he had -not been so struck with it as I believe he has been, he would -have lost with me much of the reputation he had for discretion. -But since my fortune has so willed it, let Heaven know that -I am no less Silerio's friend than he is mine; and, as tokens of -this truth, let Timbrio part himself from his glory, exile himself -from his bliss, and go wandering from land to land, away from -Silerio and Nisida, the two true and better halves of his soul." -And straightway, with much passion, he rose from the bed, -opened the door, and finding me there said to me: "What do -you want, friend, at such an hour? Is there perchance any news?" -"Such news there is," I answered him, "that I had not been sorry -though it were less." In a word, not to weary you, I got so far -with him, that I persuaded him and gave him to understand -that his fancy was false, not as to the fact of my being in love, -but as to the person with whom, for it was not with Nisida, but -with her sister Blanca; and I knew how to tell him this in such -a way that he counted it true. And that he might credit it the -more, memory offered me some stanzas which I myself had made -many days before, to another lady of the same name, which I -told him I had composed for Nisida's sister. And they were so -much to the purpose, that though it be outside the purpose to -repeat them now, I cannot pass them by in silence. They were -these:</p> - -<p class="p01">S<small>ILERIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Oh Blanca, whiter than the snow so white,</div> -<div class="verse">Whose heart is harder yet than frozen snow,</div> -<div class="verse">My sorrow deem thou not to be so light</div> -<div class="verse">That thou to heal it mayst neglect. For, lo,</div> -<div class="verse">If thy soul is not softened by this plight—</div> -<div class="verse">That soul that doth conspire to bring me woe—</div> -<div class="verse">As black will turn my fortune to my shame</div> -<div class="verse">As white thou art in beauty and in name.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Oh gentle Blanca, in whose snowy breast</div> -<div class="verse">Nestleth the bliss of love for which I yearn,</div> -<div class="verse">Before my breast, with woeful tears oppressed,</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91"></a>[Pg 91]</span><div class="verse">Doth unto dust and wretched earth return,</div> -<div class="verse">Show that thine own is in some way distressed</div> -<div class="verse">With all the grief and pain wherein I burn,</div> -<div class="verse">A guerdon this will be, so rich and sure</div> -<div class="verse">As to repay the evil I endure.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Thou'rt white as silver; for thy loveliness</div> -<div class="verse">I would exchange gold of the finest grain,</div> -<div class="verse">I'd count it wealth, if thee I might possess,</div> -<div class="verse">To lose the loftiest station I might gain:</div> -<div class="verse">Since, Blanca, thou dost know what I confess,</div> -<div class="verse">I pray thee, cease thy lover to disdain,</div> -<div class="verse">And grant it may be Blanca I must thank</div> -<div class="verse">That in love's lottery I draw no blank.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Though I were sunk in blankest poverty</div> -<div class="verse">And but a farthing had to call my own,</div> -<div class="verse">If that fair thing were thou, I would not be</div> -<div class="verse">Changed for the richest man the world hath known.</div> -<div class="verse">This would I count my chief felicity,</div> -<div class="verse">Were Juan de Espera en Dios<a id="FNanchor_115" href="#Footnote_115" class="fnanchor">[115]</a> and I but one,</div> -<div class="verse">If, at the time the <em>Blancas</em> three I sought,</div> -<div class="verse">Thou, Blanca, in the midst of them were caught.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92"></a>[Pg 92]</span></p> -<p>Silerio would have gone further with his story, had he not -been stopped by the sound of many pipes and attuned flageolets, -which was heard at their backs; and, turning their heads, they -saw coming towards them about a dozen gay shepherds, set in -two lines, and in the midst came a comely herdsman, crowned -with a garland of honeysuckle and other different flowers. He -carried a staff in one hand; and with staid step advanced little -by little, and the other shepherds, with the same success, -all playing their instruments, gave pleasing and rare token -of themselves. As soon as Elicio saw them, he recognised that -Daranio was the shepherd they brought in the midst, and that -the others were all neighbours, who wished to be present at his -wedding, to which also Thyrsis and Damon had come; and to -gladden the betrothal feast, and to honour the bridegroom, they -were proceeding in that manner towards the village. But Thyrsis, -seeing that their coming had imposed silence upon Silerio's -story, asked him to spend that night together with them all -in the village, where he would be waited upon with all the -good-will possible, and might satisfy their wishes by finishing -the incident he had begun. Silerio promised this, and at the -same moment came up the band of joyous shepherds, who, -recognising Elicio, and Daranio Thyrsis and Damon, his -friends, welcomed one another with tokens of great joy; -and renewing the music, and renewing their happiness, they -turned to pursue the road they had begun. Now that -they were coming nigh to the village, there came to their -ears the sound of the pipe of the unloving Lenio, whereat -they all received no little pleasure, for they already knew his -extreme disposition, and so, when Lenio saw and knew them, -without interrupting his sweet song, he came towards them singing -as follows:</p> - -<p class="p01">L<small>ENIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3"> Ah happy, happy all</div> -<div class="verse">Brimful of gladness and of jollity,</div> -<div class="verse">Fortunate will I call</div> -<div class="verse">So fair a company,</div> -<div class="verse">If it yield not unto Love's tyranny!</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Whoso his breast declined</div> -<div class="verse">To yield unto this cruel maddening wound,</div> -<div class="verse">Within whose healthy mind</div> -<div class="verse">Traitor Love is not found,</div> -<div class="verse">Lo I will kiss beneath his feet the ground!</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">And happy everywhere</div> -<div class="verse">The prudent herdsman will I call, the swain</div> -<div class="verse">Who lives and sets his care</div> -<div class="verse">On his poor flock, and fain</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93"></a>[Pg 93]</span> -<div class="verse">Would turn to Love a face of cold disdain.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Ere the ripe season come,</div> -<div class="verse">Such a one's ewe-lambs will be fit to bear,</div> -<div class="verse">Bringing their lambkins home,</div> -<div class="verse">And when the day is drear</div> -<div class="verse">Pasturage will they find and waters clear.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">If Love should for his sake</div> -<div class="verse">Be angry and should turn his mind astray,</div> -<div class="verse">Lo, his flock will I take</div> -<div class="verse">With mine and lead the way</div> -<div class="verse">To the clear stream, and to the meadow gay.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">What time the sacred steam</div> -<div class="verse">Of incense shall go flying to the sky,</div> -<div class="verse">This is the prayer I deem</div> -<div class="verse">To offer up on high,</div> -<div class="verse">Kneeling on earth in zealous piety.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">"Oh holy Heaven and just,</div> -<div class="verse">Since thou protector art of those who seek</div> -<div class="verse">To do thy will, whose trust</div> -<div class="verse">Is in thee, help the weak,</div> -<div class="verse">On whom for thy sake Love doth vengeance wreak.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">"Let not this tyrant bear</div> -<div class="verse">The spoils away that were thine own before,</div> -<div class="verse">But with thy bounteous care</div> -<div class="verse">And choice rewards once more</div> -<div class="verse">Unto their senses do thou strength restore."</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">As Lenio ceased singing, he was courteously received by all -the shepherds, and when he heard them name Damon and -Thyrsis, whom he only knew by repute, he was astonished at -seeing their admirable bearing, and so he said to them:</p> - -<p>'What encomiums would suffice, though they were the best -that could be found in eloquence, to have the power of exalting -and applauding your worth, famous shepherds, if perchance -love's follies were not mingled with the truths of your renowned -writings? But since you are in love's decline, a disease to all -appearance incurable, though my rude talents may pay you -your due in valuing and praising your rare discretion, it will be -impossible for me to avoid blaming your thoughts.'</p> - -<p>'If you had yours, discreet Lenio,' replied Thyrsis, 'without -the shadows of the idle opinion which fills them, you would -straightway see the brightness of ours, and that they deserve -more glory and praise for being loving, than for any subtlety or -discretion they might contain.'</p> - -<p>'No more, Thyrsis, no more,' replied Lenio, 'for I know well -that with such great and such obstinate foes my reasonings will -have little force.'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94"></a>[Pg 94]</span></p> - -<p>'If they had force,' answered Elicio, 'those who are here are -such friends of truth, that not even in jest would they contradict -it, and herein you can see, Lenio, how far you go from it, since -there is no one to approve your words, or even to hold your -intentions good.'</p> - -<p>'Then in faith,' said Lenio, 'may your intentions not save you, -oh Elicio, but let the air tell it, which you ever increase with -sighs, and the grass of these meadows which grows with your -tears, and the verses you sang the other day and wrote on the -beeches of this wood, for in them will be seen what it is you -praise in yourself and blame in me.'</p> - -<p>Lenio would not have remained without a reply, had they not -seen coming to where they were the fair Galatea, with the discreet -shepherdesses Florisa and Teolinda, who, not to be recognised -by Damon and Thyrsis, had placed a white veil before her fair -face. They came and were received by the shepherds with -joyous welcome, especially by the lovers Elicio and Erastro, -who felt such strange content at the sight of Galatea, that -Erastro, being unable to conceal it, in token thereof, without any -one asking it of him, beckoned to Elicio to play his pipe, to the -sound of which, with joyous and sweet accents, he sang the -following verses:</p> - -<p class="p01">E<small>RASTRO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw15"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Let me but the fair eyes see</div> -<div class="verse">Of the sun I am beholding;</div> -<div class="verse">If they go, their light withholding,</div> -<div class="verse">Soul, pursue them speedily.</div> -<div class="verse">For without them naught is bright,</div> -<div class="verse">Vainly may the soul aspire,</div> -<div class="verse">Which without them doth desire</div> -<div class="verse">Neither freedom, health nor light.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Whoso can may see these eyes</div> -<div class="verse">Yet he cannot fitly praise;</div> -<div class="verse">But if he would on them gaze</div> -<div class="verse">He must yield his life as prize.</div> -<div class="verse">Them I see and saw before,</div> -<div class="verse">And each time that I behold,</div> -<div class="verse">To the soul I gave of old</div> -<div class="verse">New desires I give once more.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Nothing more can I bestow,</div> -<div class="verse">Nor can fancy tell me more,</div> -<div class="verse">If I may not her adore</div> -<div class="verse">For the faith in her I show.</div> -<div class="verse">Certain is my punishment</div> -<div class="verse">If these eyes, so rich in bliss,</div> -<div class="verse">Viewed but what I did amiss,</div> -<div class="verse">Nor regarded my intent.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">So much happiness I see</div> -<div class="verse">That this day, though it endure</div> -<div class="verse">For a thousand years and more,</div> -<div class="verse">But a moment were to me.</div> -<div class="verse">Time, that flies so swiftly by,</div> -<div class="verse">Doth the flight of years withhold,</div> -<div class="verse">Whilst the beauty I behold</div> -<div class="verse">Of the life for which I die.</div> -</div> - - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Peace and shelter in this sight</div> -<div class="verse">Doth my loving soul acclaim,</div> -<div class="verse">Living in the living flame</div> -<div class="verse">Of its pure and lovely light,</div> -<div class="verse">Wherewith Love doth prove its truth:</div> -<div class="verse">In this flame it bids it win</div> -<div class="verse">Sweetest life, and doth therein,</div> -<div class="verse">Phœnix-like, renew its youth.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">I go forth in eager quest</div> -<div class="verse">Of sweet glory with my mind,</div> -<div class="verse">In my memory I find</div> -<div class="verse">That my happiness doth rest.</div> -<div class="verse">There it lies, there it doth hide,</div> -<div class="verse">Not in pomp, nor lofty birth,</div> -<div class="verse">Not in riches of the earth,</div> -<div class="verse">Nor in sovereignty nor pride.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Here Erastro ended his song, and the way was ended of -going to the village, where Thyrsis, Damon and Silerio repaired -to Elicio's house, so that the opportunity might not be lost of -learning the end of the story of Silerio, which he had begun. -The fair shepherdesses, Galatea and Florisa, offering to be -present on the coming day at Daranio's wedding, left the -shepherds, and all or most remained with the bridegroom, -whilst the girls went to their houses. And that same night, -Silerio, being urged by his friend Erastro, and by the desire -which wearied him to return to his hermitage, ended the sequel -of his story, as will be seen in the following book.</p> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="footnotes"> -<p class="p4 center big1">FOOTNOTES:</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_115" href="#FNanchor_115" class="label">[115]</a> Juan de Espera en Dios is supposed originally to have been a popular name for -St. John the Baptist (<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">que esperaba al Mesías</i>). However this may be, the phrase -is now applied to idlers, who, like Juan de las Zancas largas (the Castilian -Mr. Micawber), fold their hands and expect something to turn up providentially. -The expression recurs in <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Algunas poesías inéditas de Luis Vélez de Guevara</i> -(see p. 11 of the <em>tirage à part</em> of Sr. D. Adolfo Bonilla y San Martín's edition, -reprinted from the <cite>Revista de Aragón</cite>, Madrid, 1902):— -</p> -<p> - -Mas luego, en mi fe constante,<br /> -Soy Luys de Espera-en-Infante,<br /> -Como Juan de Espera-en-Dios.<br /> -</p> - -<p> -An exceedingly doleful jest (in four volumes) was published at the end of the -eighteenth century under the title of <cite>Zumbas con que el famoso Juan de -Espera en Dios, hijo de Millan, y sobrino de Juan de Buen Alma, acude á -dar vayas, bregas y chascas con los alegres gracejos y salados períodos de -la divertida série de su graciosa vida á la melancolía y sus macilentos -contertulios en los desvanes de los desagrados aprehensivos donde intentan -anidarse; las que traducidas del Español al Castellano irá dando á luz el -Jueves de cada semana Don Joseph de Santos Capuano, según se las deparó -la feliz casualidad á su hermano Don Santiago, y este se las raya remitiendo -á Madrid, en gracia, obsequio, y para honesto recreo de los sencillos y -claros labradores, y de los muy honrados y prudentes comerciantes, fabricantes, -artesanos, menestrales, etc., aplicados y leales vasallos de S.M. á -quienes se las dedica</cite> (Madrid, 1799). The prolix humorist who wrote this work -declares (vol. i., p. 26) that the name was first applied to a certain Andrés -Quixano Cerro—of Tirteafuera, no mean city, and one familiar to readers of <cite>Don -Quixote</cite>, if not to geographers. This worthy is alleged to have supported the -Moorish forays with pious fortitude, and to have remarked: "Obremos en nuestra -defensa lo que dicte la razón en esta necesidad sin temer, y <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">esperemos en Dios</i>." -His holy calm so edified his neighbours that they ceased using the name of -Quixano Cerro and substituted Andrés de Espera en Dios in its stead. All of -which may be believed or not, as the reader chooses.—J. F.-K.</p></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95"></a>[Pg 95]</span></p> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">BOOK III.</h2> - -<p>The joyful uproar there was that night in the village, on the -occasion of Daranio's wedding, did not prevent Elicio, Thyrsis, -Damon and Erastro from settling down together in a place -where, without being disturbed by anyone, Silerio might continue -the story he had begun, and he, when all together had -given him pleasing silence, continued in this wise:</p> - -<p>'From the feigned stanzas to Blanca, which I have told you I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96"></a>[Pg 96]</span> -repeated to Timbrio, he was satisfied that my pain proceeded -not from love of Nisida, but of her sister; and with this assurance, -begging my forgiveness for the false idea he had had about -me, he again entrusted me with his cure; and so I, forgetful of -my own, did not neglect in the least what concerned his. Some -days passed, during which fortune did not show me an opportunity -as open as I could wish for disclosing to Nisida the truth -of my thoughts, though she kept asking me how it was going -with my friend in his love-affair, and if his lady as yet had any -knowledge of it. In reply to this I said to her that the fear of -offending her still kept me from venturing to tell her anything; -whereat Nisida was very angry, calling me coward and of little -sense, and adding to this that since I was playing the coward, -either Timbrio did not feel the grief I reported of him, or I was -not so true a friend of his as I said. All this induced me to -make up my mind and reveal myself at the first opportunity, -which I did one day when she was alone. She listened with -strange silence to all I had to say to her, and I, as best I could, -extolled to her Timbrio's worth, and the true love he had for her, -which was so strong that it had brought me to take up so lowly -a pursuit as that of a buffoon, merely to have an opportunity of -telling her what I was telling her. To these I added other -reasonings which Nisida must needs have thought were not -without reason; but she would not show by words then what -she could not afterwards keep concealed by deeds; rather with -dignity and rare modesty she reproved my boldness, rebuked -my daring, blamed my words and daunted my confidence, but -not in such a way as to banish me from her presence, which was -what I feared most; she merely ended by telling me to have -henceforward more regard for what was due to her modesty, -and to see to it that the artifice of my false dress should not be -discovered—an ending this which closed and finished the -tragedy of my life, since I understood thereby that Nisida would -give ear to Timbrio's plaints. In what breast could or can be -contained the extremity of grief that was then concealed in mine, -since the end of its greatest desire was the finish and end of its -happiness? I was gladdened by the good beginning I had given -to Timbrio's cure, and this gladness redounded to my hurt, for it -seemed to me, as was the truth, that, on seeing Nisida in -another's power, my own was ended. Oh mighty force of true -friendship, how far dost thou extend! how far didst thou constrain -me! since I myself, impelled by thy constraint, by my own -contriving whetted the knife which was to cut short my hopes, -which, dying in my soul, lived and revived in Timbrio's, when -he learned from me all that had passed with Nisida. But her -way with him and me was so coy that she never showed at all -that she was pleased with my solicitude or Timbrio's love, nor -yet was she disdainful in such a manner that her displeasure and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_97"></a>[Pg 97]</span> -aversion made us both abandon the enterprise. This went on -till it came to Timbrio's knowledge that his enemy Pransiles, the -gentleman he had wronged in Xeres, being desirous of satisfying -his honour, was sending him a challenge, indicating to him a free -and secure field on an estate in the Duke of Gravina's territory, -and giving him a term of six months from that date to the day -of the combat. The care induced by this news did not cause -him to become careless in what concerned his love-affair, but -rather, by fresh solicitude on my part and services on his, Nisida -came to demean herself in such a way that she did not show -herself disdainful though Timbrio looked at her and visited at -the house of her parents, preserving in all a decorum as honourable -as befitted her worth. The term of the challenge now -drawing near, Timbrio, seeing that the journey was inevitable -for him, determined to depart, and before doing so, he wrote to -Nisida a letter, of such a kind that with it he ended in a moment -what I during many months and with many words had not -begun. I have the letter in my memory, and to render my story -complete, I will not omit to tell you that it ran thus:</p> - - -<div class="p1 center">T<small>IMBRIO TO</small> N<small>ISIDA</small></div> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">All hail to Nisida, from a loving swain</span><br /> -Who is not hale nor ever hopes to be,<br /> -Until his health from thine own hand he gain.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">These lines, I fear, will surely gain for me,</span><br /> -Though they be written in my very blood,<br /> -The abhorred reproach of importunity.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And yet I may not, e'en although I would,</span><br /> -Escape Love's torment, for my passions bear<br /> -My soul along amidst their cruel flood.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A fiery daring and a chilly fear</span><br /> -Encompass me about, and I remain,<br /> -Whilst thou dost read this letter, sad and drear;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For when I write to thee, I do but gain</span><br /> -Ruin if thou dost scorn my words, ah woe!<br /> -And spurn my awkward phrases with disdain.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">True Heaven is my witness and doth know</span><br /> -If I have not adored thee from the hour<br /> -I saw the lovely face that is my foe.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I saw thee and adored—What wouldst thou more?</span><br /> -The peerless semblance of an angel fair<br /> -What man is there but straightway would adore?<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Upon thy beauty, in the world so rare,</span><br /> -My soul so keenly gazed that on thy face<br /> -It could not rest its piercing gaze, for there<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Within thy soul it was upon the trace</span><br /> -Of mighty loveliness, a paradise<br /> -Giving assurance of a greater grace.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98"></a>[Pg 98]</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On these rich pinions thou to Heaven dost rise</span><br /> -And on the earth thou sendest dread and pain<br /> -Unto the simple, wonder to the wise.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Happy the soul that doth such bliss contain,</span><br /> -And no less happy he who to Love's war<br /> -Yields up his own that blissful soul to gain!<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Debtor am I unto my fatal star,</span><br /> -That bade me yield to one who doth possess<br /> -Within so fair a frame a soul so fair.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">To me thy mood, oh lady, doth confess</span><br /> -That I was wrong when I aspired so high,<br /> -And covereth with fear my hopefulness.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But on my honest purpose I rely,</span><br /> -I turn a bold face to despondency,<br /> -New breath I gain when I to death am nigh.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They say that without hope Love cannot be.</span><br /> -'Tis mere opinion: for I hope no more<br /> -And yet the more Love's force doth master me.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I love thee for thy goodness, and adore,</span><br /> -Thy beauty draws me captive in its train,<br /> -It was the net Love stretched in love's first hour<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">That with rare subtlety it might constrain</span><br /> -This soul of mine, careless and fancy-free,<br /> -Unto the amorous knot, to know its strain.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Love his dominion and his tyranny</span><br /> -Within some breasts sustains by beauty's aid,<br /> -But not within the curious fantasy,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Which looks not on Love's narrow noose displayed</span><br /> -In ringlets of fine gold that satisfy<br /> -The heart of him who views them undismayed,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor on the breast that he who turns his eye</span><br /> -On breast alone, doth alabaster call<br /> -Nor on the wondrous neck of ivory;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But it regards the hidden all in all</span><br /> -And contemplates the thousand charms displayed<br /> -Within the soul that succour and enthral.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The charms that are but mortal, doomed to fade,</span><br /> -Unto the soul immortal bring not balm,<br /> -Unless it leave the light and seek the shade.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy peerless virtue carrieth off the palm,</span><br /> -It maketh of my thoughts its spoil and prey,<br /> -And all my lustful passions it doth calm.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They are content and willingly obey,</span><br /> -For by the worth thy merits ever show<br /> -They seek their hard and bitter pain to weigh.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I plough the sea and in the sand I sow</span><br /> -When I am doomed by passion's mystic stress<br /> -Beyond the viewing of thy face to go.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99"></a>[Pg 99]</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I know how high thou art; my lowliness</span><br /> -I see, and where the distance is so great,<br /> -One may not hope, nor do I hope possess.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wherefore I find no cure to heal my state,</span><br /> -Numerous my hardships as the stars of night,<br /> -Or as the tribes the earth that populate.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I understand what for my soul is right,</span><br /> -I know the better, and the worse attain,<br /> -Borne by the love wherein I take delight.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But now, fair Nisida, the point I gain,</span><br /> -Which I with mortal anguish do desire,<br /> -Where I shall end the sorrow I sustain.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Uplifted is the hostile arm in ire,</span><br /> -The keen and ruthless sword awaiteth me,<br /> -Each with thine anger 'gainst me doth conspire.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy wrathful will soon, soon, avenged will be</span><br /> -Upon the vain presumption of my will,<br /> -Which was without a reason spurned by thee.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">No other pangs nor agonies would fill</span><br /> -With agitation dread my mournful thought,<br /> -Though greater than death's agonizing chill,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If I could in my short and bitter lot</span><br /> -But see thee towards my heart-felt wishes kind,<br /> -As the reverse I see, that thou art not.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Narrow the path that leads to bliss, I find,</span><br /> -But broad and spacious that which leads to pain;<br /> -By my misfortune this hath been designed,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And death, that buttressed is on thy disdain,</span><br /> -By this in anger and in haste doth run,<br /> -Eager its triumph o'er my life to gain.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">By yonder path my bliss, well-nigh undone,</span><br /> -Departs, crushed by the sternness thou dost show,<br /> -Which needs must end my brief life all too soon.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My fate hath raised me to the height of woe</span><br /> -Where I begin e'en now to dread the scorn<br /> -And anger of my sore-offended foe.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Tis that I see the fire wherein I burn</span><br /> -Is ice within thy breast, and this is why<br /> -At the last moment I a coward turn.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For if thou dost not show thee my ally,</span><br /> -Of whom will my weak hand be not afraid,<br /> -Though strength and skill the more accompany?<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">What Roman warrior, if thou dost but aid,</span><br /> -Or what Greek captain would oppose my might?<br /> -Nay, from his purpose he would shrink dismayed.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I would escape e'en from the direst plight,</span><br /> -And from death's cruel hand away I'd bear<br /> -The spoils of victory in his despite.<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100"></a>[Pg 100]</span> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou, thou, alone my lot aloft canst rear</span><br /> -Above all human glory, or abase<br /> -Unto the depths below—no bliss is there.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For if, as pure Love had the power to raise,</span><br /> -Fortune were minded to uphold my lot<br /> -Safe 'midst the dangers of its lofty place,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">My hope which lieth where it hopeth naught,</span><br /> -Itself would see exalted to a height<br /> -Above the heaven where reigns the moon, in thought.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Such am I that I now account delight</span><br /> -The evil that thine angry scorn doth give<br /> -Unto my soul in such a wondrous plight,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">If in thy memory I might see I live,</span><br /> -And that perchance thou dost remember, sweet,<br /> -To deal the wound which I as bliss receive.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Twere easier far for me the tale complete</span><br /> -To tell of the white sands beside the sea,<br /> -Or of the stars that make the eighth heaven their seat,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Than all the pain, the grief, the anxiety,</span><br /> -Whereto the rigour of thy cruel disdain<br /> -Condemns me, though I have not wounded thee.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Seek not the measure of thy worth to gain</span><br /> -From my humility; if we compare<br /> -Loftiness with thee, 'twill on earth remain.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Such as I am I love thee, and I dare</span><br /> -To say that I advance in loving sure<br /> -Unto the highest point in Love's career,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wherefore in merit I am not so poor</span><br /> -That as an enemy thou shouldst me treat—<br /> -Rather, methinks, my guerdon should endure.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">So great a cruelty doth ill befit</span><br /> -Such loveliness, and where we do perceive<br /> -Such worth, there doth ingratitude ill sit.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">On thee fain would I call account to give</span><br /> -Of a soul yielded thee; where was it thrown?<br /> -How, when my soul is gone, do I yet live?<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Didst thou not deign to make my heart thy throne?</span><br /> -What can he give thee more who loves thee more?<br /> -Herein how well was thy presumption shown!<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I have been soulless from the earliest hour</span><br /> -I saw thee for my bliss and for my pain,<br /> -For all were pain if I saw thee no more.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">There I of my free heart gave thee the rein,</span><br /> -Thou rulest me, for thee alone I live,<br /> -And yet thy power can more than this attain.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Within the flame of pure Love I revive</span><br /> -And am undone, since from the death of Love<br /> -I, like a phœnix, straightway life receive.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101"></a>[Pg 101]</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">This would I have thee think all things above,</span><br /> -In faith of this my faith, that it is sure<br /> -That I live glowing in the fire of Love,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And that thou canst e'en after death restore</span><br /> -Me unto life, and in a moment guide<br /> -From the wild ocean to the peaceful shore.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For Love in thee and power dwell side by side,</span><br /> -And are united, reigning over me.<br /> -They waver not nor falter in their pride—<br /> -And here I end lest I should weary thee.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">'I know not whether it was the reasonings of this letter, or the -many I had urged before on Nisida, assuring her of the true love -Timbrio had for her, or Timbrio's ceaseless services, or Heaven -that had so ordained it, that moved Nisida's heart to call me at -the moment she finished reading it, and with tears in her eyes -to say to me: "Ah, Silerio, Silerio! I verily believe that you have -at the cost of my peace sought to gain your friend's! May the -fates that have brought me to this pass make Timbrio's deeds -accord with your words; and if both have deceived me, may -Heaven take vengeance for my wrong, Heaven which I call to -witness for the violence desire does me, making me keep it -no longer concealed. But, alas, how light an acquittal is this -for so weighty a fault! since I ought rather to die in silence so -that my honour might live, than by saying what I now wish -to say to you to bury it and end my life." These words of -Nisida's made me confused, and yet more the agitation with -which she uttered them; and desiring by mine to encourage her -to declare herself without any fear, I had not to importune her -much, for at last she told me that she not only loved, but adored -Timbrio, and that she would always have concealed that feeling -had not the compulsion of Timbrio's departure compelled her -to disclose it. It is not possible to describe fitly the state I was -in, shepherds, on hearing what Nisida said, and the feeling of -love she showed she bore to Timbrio; and indeed it is well that -a grief which extends so far should be beyond description. -Not that I was grieved to see Timbrio loved, but to see myself -rendered incapable of ever having happiness, since it was, and -is clear, that I neither could nor can live without Nisida; for to -see her, as I have said at other times, placed in another's arms, -was to sever myself from all pleasure, and if fate granted me -any at this pass, it was to consider the welfare of my friend -Timbrio, and this was the cause why my death and the -declaration of Nisida's love did not occur at one and the same -moment. I listened to her as well as I could, and assured -her as well as I knew how of the integrity of Timbrio's breast, -whereat she replied to me that there was no need to assure her -of that, for that she was of such a mind that she could not,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102"></a>[Pg 102]</span> -nor ought she to, fail to believe me, only asking me, if it were -possible, to manage to persuade Timbrio to seek some honourable -means to avoid a combat with his foe: and when I -replied that this was impossible without his being dishonoured, -she was calmed, and taking from her neck some precious relics, -she gave them to me that I might give them to Timbrio from -her. As she knew her parents were to go and see Timbrio's -fight, and would take her and her sister with them, but as she -would not have the courage to be present at Timbrio's dire -peril, it was also agreed between us that she should pretend -to be indisposed, on which pretext she would remain in a -pleasure-house where her parents were to lodge, which was half -a league from the town where the combat was to take place, and -that there she would await her bad or good fortune, according -to Timbrio's. She bade me also, in order to shorten the anxiety -she would feel to learn Timbrio's fortune, take with me a white -kerchief which she gave me, and, if Timbrio conquered, bind -it on my arm, and come back to give her the news; and, -if he were vanquished, not to bind it, and so she would learn -from afar by the token of the kerchief the beginning of her -bliss or the end of her life. I promised her to do all she bade -me, and taking the relics and the kerchief I took leave of -her with the greatest sadness and the greatest joy I ever felt; -my little fortune caused the sadness; Timbrio's great fortune -the gladness. He learnt from me what I brought him from -Nisida, whereat he was so joyous, happy, and proud, that the -danger of the battle he awaited he counted as naught, for it -seemed to him that in being favoured by his lady, not even -death itself would be able to gainsay him. For the present I -pass by in silence the exaggerated terms Timbrio used to show -himself grateful for what he owed to my solicitude; for they -were such that he seemed to be out of his senses while discoursing -thereon. Being cheered, then, and encouraged by -this good news, he began to make preparations for his departure, -taking as seconds a Spanish gentleman, and another, a Neapolitan. -And at the tidings of this particular duel countless people of the -kingdom were moved to see it, Nisida's parents also going there, -taking her and her sister Blanca with them. As it fell to -Timbrio to choose weapons, he wished to show that he based -his right, not on the advantage they possessed, but on the -justice that was his, and so those he chose were the sword and -dagger, without any defensive weapon. But few days were -wanting to the appointed term, when Nisida and her father, with -many other gentlemen, set out from the city of Naples; she, -having arrived first, reminded me many times not to forget our -agreement; but my wearied memory, which never served save -to remind me of things alone that were unpleasing to me, so as -not to change its character, forgot as much of what Nisida had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103"></a>[Pg 103]</span> -told me as it saw was needful to rob me of life, or at least to set -me in the miserable state in which I now see myself.'</p> - -<p>The shepherds were listening with great attention to what -Silerio was relating, when the thread of his story was interrupted -by the voice of a hapless shepherd, who was singing among -some trees, nor yet so far from the windows of the dwelling -where they were, but that all that he said could not fail to -be heard. The voice was such that it imposed silence on -Silerio, who in no wise wished to proceed, but rather asked -the other shepherds to listen to it, since for the little there -remained of his story, there would be time to finish it. This -would have annoyed Thyrsis and Damon, had not Elicio said -to them:</p> - -<p>'Little will be lost, shepherds, in listening to the luckless -Mireno, who is without doubt the shepherd that is singing, and -whom fortune has brought to such a pass that I fancy he hopes -for nothing in the way of his happiness.'</p> - -<p>'How can he hope for it,' said Erastro, 'if to-morrow Daranio -marries the shepherdess Silveria, whom he thought to wed? -But in the end Daranio's wealth has had more power with -Silveria's parents than the abilities of Mireno.'</p> - -<p>'You speak truth,' replied Elicio: 'but with Silveria the love -she knew Mireno had for her should have had more power than -any treasure; the more so that Mireno is not so poor that his -poverty would be remarked, though Silveria were to wed him.'</p> - -<p>Through these remarks which Elicio and Erastro uttered, -the desire to learn what Mireno was singing increased in the -shepherds; and so Silerio begged that no more might be said, -and all with attentive ears stopped to listen to him. He, distressed -by Silveria's ingratitude, seeing that next day she was -wedding Daranio, with the rage and grief this deed caused him, -had gone forth from his house accompanied only by his rebeck: -and invited by the solitude and silence of a tiny little meadow -which was hard by the walls of the village, and trusting that on -a night so peaceful no one would listen to him, he sat down at -the foot of a tree, and tuning his rebeck was singing in this wise:</p> - -<p class="p01">M<small>IRENO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh cloudless sky, that with so many eyes</span><br /> - O'er all the world the thefts of Love beholdest,<br /> - And in thy course dost fill with joy or grief<br /> - Him who to their sweet cause his agonies<br /> - Tells 'midst thy stillness, or whom thou withholdest<br /> - From such delight, nor offerest him relief,<br /> - If yet with thee be chief<br /> - Kindness for me perchance, since now indeed<br /> - In speech alone contentment must I find,<br /> - Thou, knowing all my mind,<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104"></a>[Pg 104]</span> - - My words—it is not much I ask—may'st heed;<br /> - For, see, my voice of woe<br /> - Shall with my sorrowing soul die 'neath the blow.</p> - - <p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ah now my wearied voice, my woeful cry,</span><br /> - Scarce, scarce, will now offend the empty air;<br /> - For I at last unto this pass am brought,<br /> - That to the winds that angry hasten by,<br /> - Love casts my hopes, and in another's care<br /> - Hath placed the bliss that I deserving sought,<br /> - The fruit my loving thought<br /> - Did sow, the fruit watered by wearied tears<br /> - By his triumphant hands will gathered be,<br /> - And his the victory,<br /> - Who was in fortune rich beyond his peers,<br /> - But in deserving poor—<br /> - 'Tis fortune smooths the rough and makes it sure.</p> - - <p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Then he who sees his happiness depart</span><br /> - By any way, who doth his glory see<br /> - Transformed into such bitter grievous pain—<br /> - Why ends he not his life with all its smart?<br /> - Against the countless powers of destiny<br /> - Why strives he not to break the vital chain?<br /> - Slowly I pass amain<br /> - Unto the peril sweet of bitter death.<br /> - Wherefore, mine arm, bold 'midst thy weariness,<br /> - Endure thou the distress<br /> - Of living, since our lot it brighteneth<br /> - To know that 'tis Love's will<br /> - That grief should do the deed, as steel doth kill.</p> - - <p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">My death is certain, for it cannot be</span><br /> - That he should live whose very hope is dead,<br /> - And who from glory doth so far remain.<br /> - Yet this I fear, that death, by Love's decree,<br /> - May be impossible, that memory fed<br /> - By a false confidence may live again<br /> - In my despite. What then?<br /> - For if the tale of my past happiness<br /> - I call to mind, and see that all is gone,<br /> - That I am now undone<br /> - By the sad cares I in its stead possess,<br /> - 'Twill serve the more to show<br /> - That I from memory and from life should go.</p> - - <p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ah! chief and only good my soul hath known!</span><br /> - Sun that didst calm the storm within my breast!<br /> - Goal of the worth that is desired by me!<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105"></a>[Pg 105]</span> Can it be that the day should ever dawn<br /> - When I must know that thou rememberest<br /> - No more, and Love that day doth let me see?<br /> - Rather, ere this should be,<br /> - Ere thy fair neck be by another's arms<br /> - In all its loveliness encircled, ere<br /> - Thy golden—nay thy hair<br /> - Is gold, and ere its gold in all its charms<br /> - Should make Daranio rich,<br /> - Its end may the evil with my life's end reach.</p> - - <p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">None hath by faith better deserved than I</span><br /> - To win thee; but I see that faith is dead,<br /> - Unless it be by deeds made manifest.<br /> - To certain grief and to uncertain joy<br /> - I yield my life; and if I merited<br /> - Thereby, I might hope for a gladsome feast.<br /> - But in this cruellest<br /> - Law used by Love, hath good desire no place,<br /> - This proverb lovers did of old discover:<br /> - The deed declares the lover,<br /> - And as for me, who to my hurt possess<br /> - Naught but the will to do,<br /> - Wherein must I not fail, whose deeds are few?</p> - - <p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">I thought the law would clearly broken be</span><br /> - In thee, that avaricious Love doth use;<br /> - I thought that thou thine eyes on high wouldst raise<br /> - Unto a captive soul that serves but thee,<br /> - So ready to perform what thou dost choose,<br /> - That, if thou didst but know, 'twould earn thy praise.<br /> - For a faith that assays<br /> - By the vain pomps of wealth so full of care<br /> - All its desires, thou wouldst not change, I thought,<br /> - A faith that was so fraught<br /> - With tokens of good faith, Silveria fair.<br /> - Thyself thou didst to gold<br /> - Yield that thou mightst yield me to grief untold.</p> - - <p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh poverty, that creepest on the ground,</span><br /> - Cause of the grief that doth my soul enrage,<br /> - He praiseth thee, thy face who never saw.<br /> - Thy visage did my shepherdess confound,<br /> - At once thy harshness did her love assuage,<br /> - She to escape thee doth her foot withdraw.<br /> - This is thy cruel law,<br /> - Vainly doth one aspire the goal to find<br /> - Of amorous purpose; thou high hopes abasest<br /> - And countless changes placest<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106"></a>[Pg 106]</span> Within the greedy breast of womankind,<br /> - But never dost thou bless<br /> - The worth of lovers with complete success.</p> - - <p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Gold is a sun, whose ray the keenest eyes</span><br /> - Blindeth, if on the semblance they be fed<br /> - Of interest, that doth beguile the sight.<br /> - He that is liberal-handed wins the prize,<br /> - Even her hand, who, by her avarice led,<br /> - Fair though she be, declares her heart's delight.<br /> - 'Tis gold that turns the sight<br /> - From the pure purpose and the faith sincere;<br /> - More than a lover's firmness is undone<br /> - By the diamond stone,<br /> - Whose hardness turns to wax a bosom fair,<br /> - However hard it be;<br /> - Its fancy thus it winneth easily.</p> - - <p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh sweet my foe I suffer grief untold</span><br /> - For thee, because thy matchless charms thou hast<br /> - Made ugly by a proof of avarice.<br /> - So much didst thou reveal thy love of gold<br /> - That thou my passion didst behind thee cast<br /> - And to oblivion didst my care dismiss.<br /> - Now thou art wed! Ah, this<br /> - Ends all! Wed, shepherdess! I pray that Heaven<br /> - Thy choice, as thou thyself wouldst wish, may bless,<br /> - That for my bitterness<br /> - A just reward may not to thee be given.—<br /> - But, alas! Heaven, our friend,<br /> - Guerdon to virtue, stripes to ill doth send.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Here the hapless Mireno ended his song with tokens of grief -so great that he inspired the same in all those who were -listening to him, especially in those who knew him, and were -acquainted with his virtues, gallant disposition and honourable -bearing. And after there had passed between the shepherds -some remarks upon the strange character of women, and chiefly -upon the marriage of Silveria, who, forgetful of Mireno's love -and goodness, had yielded herself to Daranio's wealth, they -were desirous that Silerio should end his story, and, complete -silence having been imposed, without needing to be asked, he -began to continue, saying:</p> - -<p>'The day of the dire peril, then, having come, Nisida remained -half a league out of the village, in some gardens as she had -agreed with me, with the pretext she gave to her parents that -she was not well; and as I left her, she charged me to return -quickly, with the token of the kerchief, for, according as I wore -it or not, she would learn the good or ill fortune of Timbrio. I -promised it to her once more, being aggrieved that she should<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107"></a>[Pg 107]</span> -charge me with it so often. Therewith I took leave of her and -of her sister, who remained with her. And when I had come to -the place of combat and the hour of beginning it had come, -after the seconds of both had completed the ceremonies and -warnings which are required in such a case, the two gentlemen, -being set in the lists, at the dread sound of a hoarse trumpet -engaged with such dexterity and skill that it caused admiration -in all that saw them. But love or justice—and this is the more -likely—which was favouring Timbrio, gave him such vigour that, -though at the cost of some wounds, in a short space he put his -adversary in such a plight, that, having him at his feet, wounded -and covered with blood, he begged him to give in, if he wished -to save his life. But the luckless Pransiles urged him to make -an end of killing him, since it was easier for him and less hurtful -to pass through a thousand deaths than to surrender; yet -Timbrio's noble soul is such that he neither wished to kill his -foe, nor yet that he should confess himself vanquished. He -merely contented himself with his saying and acknowledging -that Timbrio was as good as he; which Pransiles confessed -gladly, since in this he did so little, that he might very well have -said it without seeing himself in that pass. All the bystanders who -heard how Timbrio had dealt with his foe, praised it and valued -it highly. Scarcely had I seen my friend's happy fortune, when with -incredible joy and swift speed I returned to give the news to -Nisida. But woe is me! for my carelessness then has set me -in my present care. Oh memory, memory mine! why had you -none for what concerned me so much? But I believe it was -ordained in my fortune, that the beginning of that gladness -should be the end and conclusion of all my joys. I returned to -see Nisida with the speed I have said, but returned without placing -the white kerchief on my arm. Nisida, who, from some lofty -galleries, with violent longing, was waiting and watching for my -return, seeing me returning without the kerchief, thought that some -sinister mishap had befallen Timbrio, and she believed it and -felt it in such wise, that, without aught else contributing, all her -spirits failed her, and she fell to the ground in so strange a -swoon, that all counted her dead. By the time I came up, I -found all her household in a turmoil, and her sister showing a -thousand extremes of grief over the body of sad Nisida. When -I saw her in such a state, firmly believing that she was dead, and -seeing that the force of grief was drawing me out of my senses, -and afraid that while bereft of them I might give or disclose some -tokens of my thoughts, I went forth from the house, and slowly -returned to give the luckless news to luckless Timbrio. But as -the anxiety of my grief had robbed me of my strength of mind and -body, my steps were not so swift but that others had been more -so to carry the sad tidings to Nisida's parents, assuring them -that she had been carried off by an acute paroxysm. Timbrio<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108"></a>[Pg 108]</span> -must needs have heard this and been in the same state as I was, -if not in a worse; I can only say that when I came to where I -thought to find him, the night was already somewhat advanced, -and I learned from one of his seconds that he had departed for -Naples with his other second by the post, with tokens of such great -unhappiness as if he had issued from the combat vanquished -and dishonoured. I at once fancied what it might be, and at -once set myself on the way to follow him, and before I reached -Naples, I had sure tidings that Nisida was not dead, but had -been in a swoon which lasted four and twenty hours, at the end -of which she had come to herself with many tears and sighs. -With the certainty of these tidings I was consoled, and with -greater joy reached Naples, thinking to find Timbrio there; but -it was not so, for the gentleman with whom he had come -assured me that on reaching Naples, he departed without saying -anything, and that he did not know whither; only he fancied -that, as he saw him sad and melancholy after the fight, he -could not but think he had gone to kill himself. This was -news which sent me back to my first tears, and my fortune, not -even content with this, ordained that at the end of a few days -Nisida's parents should come to Naples without her and without -her sister, who, as I learned, and as was the common report, -had both absented themselves one night, whilst coming with -their parents to Naples, without any news being known of them. -Thereat I was so confused that I knew not what to do with myself -nor what to say to myself, and being placed in this strange -confusion, I came to learn, though not very surely, that Timbrio -had embarked in the port of Gaeta on a large ship bound for -Spain. Thinking it might be true, I came straightway to Spain, -and have looked for him in Xeres and in every place I fancied -he might be, without finding any trace of him. At last I came -to the city of Toledo, where all the kinsmen of Nisida's parents -are, and what I succeeded in learning is that they have returned -to Toledo without having learned news of their daughters. -Seeing myself, then, absent from Timbrio and away from Nisida, -and considering that as soon as I should find them, it must needs -be to their joy and my ruin, being now wearied and disenchanted -of the things of this deceitful world in which we live, I have -resolved to turn my thoughts to a better pole-star, and to spend -the little that remains to me of life, in the service of Him who -values desires and works in the degree they deserve. And so I -have chosen this garb you see, and the hermitage you have -seen, where in sweet solitude I may repress my desires and -direct my works to a better goal; though, as the course of the evil -inclinations I have cherished till now, springs from so far back, -they are not so easy to check but that they somewhat overrun -the bounds, and memory returns to battle with me, representing -to me the past. When I see myself in this pass, to the sound of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109"></a>[Pg 109]</span> -yonder harp which I chose for companion in my solitude, I seek -to lighten the heavy burden of my cares until Heaven shall take -it and be minded to call me to a better life. This, shepherds, -is the story of my misfortune; and if I have been long in telling -it to you, it is because my misfortune has not been brief in -afflicting me. What I pray you is to allow me to return to my -hermitage, for, though your company is pleasing to me, I have -come to the pass that nothing gives me more joy than solitude, -and henceforward you will understand the life I lead and the -woe I endure.'</p> - -<p>Herewith Silerio ended his story, but not the tears with which -he had ofttimes accompanied it. The shepherds consoled him -for them as best they could, especially Damon and Thyrsis, who -with many reasonings urged him not to lose the hope of seeing -his friend Timbrio in greater happiness than he could imagine, -since it was not possible but that after such evil fortune Heaven -should become serene, wherefrom it might be hoped that it -would not be willing for the false news of Nisida's death to come -to Timbrio's knowledge save in a truer version before despair -should end his days; and that, as regards Nisida it might be -believed and conjectured that, on finding Timbrio absent, she -had gone in search of him; and that, if fortune had then parted -them by such strange accidents, it would know now how to unite -them by others no less strange. All these reasonings and many -others they addressed to him, consoled him somewhat, but not so -as to awaken the hope of seeing himself in a life of greater happiness, -nor yet did he seek it, for it seemed to him that the life he -had chosen, was the one most fitting for him. A great part of the -night was already passed when the shepherds agreed to rest for -the little time that remained until the day, whereon the wedding -of Daranio and Silveria was to be celebrated. But scarce had -the white dawn left the irksome couch of her jealous spouse, -when most of the shepherds of the village all left theirs, and each -as best he could, for his part, began to gladden the feast. One -brought green boughs to adorn the doorway of the betrothed, -another with tabor and flute gave them the morning greeting. -Here was heard the gladdening pipe, here sounded the tuneful -rebeck, there the ancient psaltery, here the practised flageolet; -one with red ribands adorned his castanets for the hoped-for -dance, another polished and polished again his rustic finery to -show himself gallant in the eyes of some little shepherdess his -sweetheart, so that in whatever part of the village one went, all -savoured of happiness, pleasure, and festivity. There was only -the sad and hapless Mireno, to whom all these joys were the -cause of greatest sadness. He, having gone out from the village, -so as not to see performed the sacrifice of his glory, ascended a -hillock which was near the village, and seating himself there at -the foot of an old ash tree, placing his hand on his cheek, his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110"></a>[Pg 110]</span> -bonnet pulled down to his eyes which he kept rivetted on the -ground, he began to ponder the hapless plight in which he found -himself, and how, without being able to prevent it, he had to see -the fruit of his desires culled before his eyes; and this thought -held him in such a way that he wept so tenderly and bitterly -that no one could see him in such a pass without accompanying -him with tears. At this moment Damon and Thyrsis, Elicio and -Erastro arose, and appearing at a window which looked on to -the plain, the first object on which they set eyes was the luckless -Mireno, and on seeing him in the state in which he was, they -knew full well the grief he was suffering; and, being moved to -compassion, they determined all to go and console him, as they -would have done, had not Elicio begged them to let him go -alone, for he thought that, as Mireno was so great a friend of -his, he would impart his grief to him more freely than to another. -The shepherds consented to it, and Elicio, going there, found -Mireno so beside himself and so transported in his grief that he -neither recognised him nor spoke to him a word. Elicio, seeing -this, beckoned to the other shepherds to come, and they, fearing -that some strange accident had befallen Mireno, since Elicio -called them with haste, straightway went there, and saw Mireno -with eyes so fixed on the ground, and so motionless that he -seemed a statue, seeing that he did not awake from his strange -trance with the coming of Elicio nor with that of Thyrsis, -Damon and Erastro, except that after a long while he began to -say as it were between his teeth:</p> - -<p>'Are you Silveria, Silveria? if you are, I am not Mireno, and -if I am not Mireno, you are not Silveria, for it is not possible for -Silveria to be without Mireno, or Mireno without Silveria. Then -who am I, hapless one? or who are you, ungrateful one? Full -well I know that I am not Mireno, for you have not wished to -be Silveria, at least the Silveria you ought to have been and I -thought you were.'</p> - -<p>At this moment he raised his eyes, and as he saw the four -shepherds round him and recognised Elicio among them, he -arose and without ceasing his bitter plaint, threw his arms round -his neck, saying to him:</p> - -<p>'Ah, my true friend, now indeed you will have no cause to -envy my state, as you envied it when you saw me favoured by -Silveria; for, if you called me happy then, you can call me -hapless now, and change all the glad names you gave me then, -into the grievous ones you now can give me. I indeed will be -able to call you happy, Elicio, since you are more consoled by -the hope you have of being loved than afflicted by the real fear -of being forgotten.'</p> - -<p>'You make me perplexed, oh Mireno,' answered Elicio, 'to see -the extreme grief you display at what Silveria has done, when you -know that she has parents whom it was right to have obeyed.'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111"></a>[Pg 111]</span></p> - -<p>'If she felt love,' replied Mireno, 'duty to parents were small -hindrance to keep her from fulfilling what she owed to love. -Whence I come to think, oh Elicio, that if she loved me well, -she did ill to marry, and if the love she used to show me was -feigned, she did worse in deceiving me and in offering to undeceive -me at a time when it cannot avail me save by leaving -my life in her hands.'</p> - -<p>'Your life, Mireno,' replied Elicio, 'is not in such a pass that -for cure you have to end it, since it might be that the change in -Silveria was not in her will, but in the constraint of obedience to -her parents; and, if you loved her purely and honourably when -a maid, you can also love her now that she is wed, she responding -now as then to your good and honourable desires.'</p> - -<p>'Little do you know Silveria, Elicio,' answered Mireno, 'since -you imagine of her that she is likely to do aught that might -make her notorious.'</p> - -<p>'This very argument you have used, condemns you,' replied -Elicio, 'since, if you, Mireno, know of Silveria that she will not -do anything which may be hurtful to her, she cannot have erred -in what she has done.'</p> - -<p>'If she has not erred,' answered Mireno, 'she has succeeded -in robbing me of all the fair issue I hoped from my fair thoughts; -and only in this do I blame her that she never warned me of -this blow, nay rather, when I had fears of it, she assured me -with a firm oath that they were fancies of mine, and that it had -never entered her fancy to think of marrying Daranio, nor, if -she could not marry me, would she marry him nor anyone else, -though she were thereby to risk remaining in perpetual disgrace -with her parents and kinsmen; and under this assurance and -promise now to fail in and break her faith in the way you have -seen—what reason is there that would consent to such a thing, -or what heart that would suffer it?'</p> - -<p>Here Mireno once more renewed his plaint and here again the -shepherds had pity for him. At this moment two youths came -up to where they were; one of them was Mireno's kinsman, the -other a servant of Daranio's who came to summon Elicio, -Thyrsis, Damon and Erastro, for the festivities of his marriage -were about to begin. It grieved the shepherds to leave Mireno -alone, but the shepherd his kinsman offered to remain with him, -and indeed Mireno told Elicio that he wished to go away from -that region, so as not to see every day before his eyes the cause -of his misfortune. Elicio praised his resolve and charged him, -wherever he might be, to inform him how it went with him. -Mireno so promised him; and drawing from his bosom a paper, -he begged him to give it to Silveria on finding an opportunity. -Therewith he took leave of all the shepherds, not without token -of much grief and sadness. He had not gone far from their -presence, when Elicio, desirous of learning what was in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112"></a>[Pg 112]</span> -paper, seeing that, since it was open, it mattered but little if he -read it, unfolded it, and inviting the other shepherds to listen to -him, saw that in it were written these verses:</p> - - -<p class="p1 center">M<small>IRENO TO</small> S<small>ILVERIA.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">He who once gave unto thee</span><br /> -Most of all he did possess,<br /> -Unto thee now, shepherdess,<br /> -Sends what remnant there may be;<br /> -Even this poor paper where<br /> -Clearly written he hath shown<br /> -The faith that from thee hath gone,<br /> -What remains with him, despair.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">But perchance it doth avail</span><br /> -Little that I tell thee this,<br /> -If my faith bring me no bliss,<br /> -And my woe to please thee fail;<br /> -Think not that I seek to mourn,<br /> -To complain that thou dost leave me;<br /> -'Tis too late that I should grieve me<br /> -For my early love forlorn.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Time was when thou fain wouldst hear</span><br /> -All my tale of misery;<br /> -If a tear were in my eye,<br /> -Thou therewith wouldst shed a tear:<br /> -Then Mireno was in truth<br /> -He on whom thine eyes were set,<br /> -Changed thou art and dost forget,<br /> -All the joyous time of youth!</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Did that error but endure,</span><br /> -Tempered were my bitter sadness;<br /> -Fancied joy brings greater gladness<br /> -Than a loss well known and sure.<br /> -But 'twas thou that didst ordain<br /> -My misfortune and distress,<br /> -Making by thy fickleness<br /> -False my bliss and sure my pain.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">From thy words so full of lies</span><br /> -And my ears that, weak, believed,<br /> -Fancied joys have I received,<br /> -And undoubted miseries.<br /> -Seeming pleasures once me crowned<br /> -With the buoyancy of youth,<br /> -But the evils in their truth<br /> -To my sorrow do redound.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113"></a>[Pg 113]</span></p> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hence I judge and know full well,</span><br /> -And it cannot be denied,<br /> -That its glory and its pride<br /> -Love hath at the gates of hell;<br /> -Whoso doth not set his gaze<br /> -Upon Love, from joy to pain<br /> -By oblivion and disdain<br /> -Is brought in a moment's space.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">With such swiftness thou hast wrought</span><br /> -This mysterious transformation,<br /> -That already desperation<br /> -And not gain becomes my lot;<br /> -For methinks 'twas yesterday<br /> -Thou didst love me, or didst feign<br /> -Love at least, for this is plain,<br /> -What I must believe to-day.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Still thy pleasing voice I hear</span><br /> -Uttering sweet and witty things,<br /> -Still thy loving reasonings<br /> -Are resounding in my ear;<br /> -But these memories at last,<br /> -Though they please, yet torture more,<br /> -Since away the breezes bore<br /> -Words and works adown the blast.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wert thou she who in her pride</span><br /> -Swore her days on earth should end,<br /> -If she did not love her friend<br /> -More than all she loved beside?<br /> -Wert thou she who to me showed<br /> -How she loved with such good-will,<br /> -That, although I was her ill,<br /> -She did hold me for her good?</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh if but I could thee hate</span><br /> -As thou hatest me, thy name<br /> -Would I brand with fitting shame,<br /> -Since thou'rt thankless and ingrate;<br /> -Yet it useless is for me<br /> -Thus to hate thee and disdain,<br /> -Love to me is greater gain<br /> -Than forgetfulness to thee.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">To my singing sad lament,</span><br /> -To my springtime winter's snow,<br /> -To my laughter bitter woe<br /> -Thy relentless hand hath sent<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114"></a>[Pg 114]</span><br /> -It has changed my joyous dress<br /> -To the garb of those that mourn,<br /> -Love's soft flower to poignant thorn,<br /> -Love's sweet fruit to bitterness.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou wilt say—thereat I bleed—</span><br /> -That thy marriage to this swain,<br /> -Thy forgetfulness again,<br /> -Is a noble honest deed;<br /> -If it were not known to thee<br /> -That in thy betrothal hour<br /> -My life ended evermore,<br /> -Then I might admit thy plea.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">But thy pleasure in a word</span><br /> -Pleasure was; but 'twas not just,<br /> -Since my faith and loyal trust<br /> -Did but earn unjust reward;<br /> -For my faith, since it doth see<br /> -How to show its faithfulness,<br /> -Wanes not through thy fickleness,<br /> -Faints not through my misery.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">None will wonder—surely no man,</span><br /> -When he comes to know the truth,<br /> -Seeing that I am a youth,<br /> -And, Silveria, thou art woman;<br /> -Ever in her, we believe,<br /> -Hath its home inconstancy;<br /> -Second nature 'tis to me<br /> -Thus to suffer and to grieve.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thee a wedded bride I view</span><br /> -Now repentant, making moan,<br /> -For it is a fact well known<br /> -That thou wilt in naught be true;<br /> -Gladly seek the yoke to bear<br /> -That thou on thy neck didst cast,<br /> -For thou may'st it hate at last,<br /> -But for ever 'twill be there.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Yet so fickle is thy state,</span><br /> -And thy mood is so severe,<br /> -That what yesterday was dear<br /> -Thou must needs to-morrow hate;<br /> -Hence in some mysterious way,<br /> -'Lovely 'midst her fickleness,<br /> -Fickle 'midst her loveliness,'<br /> -He who speaks of thee will say.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115"></a>[Pg 115]</span></p> - -<p>The shepherds did not think ill of Mireno's verses, but of the -occasion for which they had been made, considering with -what rapidity Silveria's fickleness had brought him to the pass -of abandoning his beloved country and dear friends, each one -fearful lest, as the result of his suit, the same thing might -happen to him. Then, after they had entered the village and -come to where Daranio and Silveria were, the festivities began -with as much joy and merriment as had been seen for a long -time on the banks of the Tagus; for, as Daranio was one of -the richest shepherds of all that district, and Silveria one of the -fairest shepherdesses of all the river-side, all or most of the -shepherds of those parts assisted at their wedding. And so -there was a fine gathering of discreet shepherds and fair shepherdesses, -and amongst those who excelled the rest in many -different qualities were the sad Orompo, the jealous Orfenio, -the absent Crisio, and the love-lorn Marsilio, all youths and -all in love, though oppressed by different passions, for sad -Orompo was tormented by the untimely death of his beloved -Listea, jealous Orfenio by the unbearable rage of jealousy, -being in love with the fair shepherdess Eandra, absent Crisio -by seeing himself parted from Claraura, a fair and discreet -shepherdess, whom he counted his only joy, and despairing -Marsilio by the hatred against him existing in Belisa's breast. -They were all friends and from the same village; each was -not ignorant of the other's love, but, on the contrary, in -mournful rivalry they had ofttimes come together, each to -extol the cause of his torment, seeking each one to show, -as best he could, that his grief exceeded every other, -counting it the highest glory to be superior in pain; and all -had such wit, or, to express it better, suffered such grief, -that, however they might indicate it, they showed it was the -greatest that could be imagined. Through these disputes and -rivalries they were famous and renowned on all the banks of -the Tagus, and had caused in Thyrsis and Damon desire -to know them; and, seeing them there together, they offered -one another courteous and pleasing greetings, all especially -regarding with admiration the two shepherds Thyrsis and -Damon, up till then only known to them by repute. At this -moment came the rich shepherd Daranio, dressed in mountain -garb; he wore a high-necked smock with pleated collar, a frieze -vest, a green coat cut low at the neck, breeches of fine linen, -blue gaiters, round shoes, a studded belt, and a quartered -bonnet the colour of the coat. No less finely adorned came -forth his bride Silveria, for she came with skirt and bodice of -fawn, bordered with white satin, a tucker worked with blue -and green, a neckerchief of yellow thread sprinkled with silver -embroidery, the contrivance of Galatea and Florisa, who -dressed her, a turquoise-coloured coif with fringes of red silk,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116"></a>[Pg 116]</span> -gilded pattens of cork, dainty close-fitting shoes, rich corals, a -ring of gold, and above all her beauty, which adorned her more -than all. After her came the peerless Galatea, like the sun after -the dawn, and her friend Florisa, with many other fair -shepherdesses, who had come to the wedding to honour it; and -amongst them, too, came Teolinda, taking care to conceal her -face from the eyes of Damon and Thyrsis, so as not to be -recognised by them. And straightway the shepherdesses, -following the shepherds their guides, to the sound of many rustic -instruments, made their way to the temple, during which time -Elicio and Erastro found time to feast their eyes on Galatea's -fair countenance, desiring that that way might last longer than -the long wandering of Ulysses. And, at the joy of seeing her, -Erastro was so beside himself, that addressing Elicio he said to -him:</p> - -<p>'What are you looking at, shepherd, if you are not looking at -Galatea? But how will you be able to look at the sun of her -locks, the heaven of her brow, the stars of her eyes, the snow of -her countenance, the crimson of her cheeks, the colour of her -lips, the ivory of her teeth, the crystal of her neck, and the -marble of her breast?'</p> - -<p>'All this have I been able to see, oh Erastro,' replied Elicio, -'and naught of all you have said is the cause of my torment, -but it is the hardness of her disposition, for if it were not such -as you know, all the graces and beauties you recognise in -Galatea would be the occasion of our greater glory.'</p> - -<p>'You say well,' said Erastro; 'but yet you will not be able to -deny to me, that if Galatea were not so fair, she would not be -so desired, and if she were not so desired, our pain would not be -so great, since it all springs from desire.'</p> - -<p>'I cannot deny to you, Erastro,' replied Elicio, 'that all grief -and sorrow whatsoever springs from the want and lack of that -which we desire; but at the same time I wish to tell you that -the quality of the love with which I thought you loved Galatea -has fallen greatly in my estimation, for if you merely love her -because she is fair, she has very little to thank you for, since -there will be no man, however rustic he be, who sees her but -desires her, for beauty, wherever it be, carries with it the -power of creating desire. Thus no reward is due to this -simple desire, because it is so natural, for if it were due, by -merely desiring Heaven, we would have deserved it. But you -see already, Erastro, that the opposite is so much the case, as our -true law has shown to us; and granted that beauty and loveliness -are a principal factor in attracting us to desire them and to -seek to enjoy them, he who would be a true lover must not count -such enjoyment his highest good; but rather, though beauty -causes this desire in him, he must love the one only because the -desire is honourable, without any other interest moving him, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117"></a>[Pg 117]</span> -this can be called, even in things of this life, perfect and true -love, and is worthy of gratitude and reward. Just as we see that -the Maker of all things openly and fittingly rewards those who, -not being moved by any other interest, whether of fear, pain, or -hope of glory, love Him, worship Him, and serve Him only -because he is good and worthy of being worshipped; and this -is the last and greatest perfection contained in divine love, and -in human love, too, when one does not love except because what -one loves is good, without there being an error of judgment, for -ofttimes the bad seems to us good, and the good bad, and so we -love the one and abhor the other, and such love as this does not -deserve reward but punishment. I wish to imply from all I have -said, oh Erastro, that if you love and worship Galatea's beauty -with intent to enjoy it, and the goal of your desire stops at this -point without passing on to love her virtue, her increase of fame, -her welfare, her life and prosperity, know that you do not love -as you ought, nor ought you to be rewarded as you wish.'</p> - -<p>Erastro would fain have replied to Elicio, and given him to -understand that he did not understand rightly concerning the -love with which he loved Galatea; but this was prevented by -the sound of the pipe of loveless Lenio, who also wished to be -present at Daranio's wedding, and to gladden the festivities -with his song; and so setting himself in front of the betrothed -pair, whilst they were going to the temple, to the sound of -Eugenio's rebeck he went singing these verses:</p> - -<div class="p01">L<small>ENIO.</small></div> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Unknown, ungrateful Love, that dost appal</div> -<div class="verse">At times the gallant hearts of all our race,</div> -<div class="verse">And with vain shapes and shades fantastical</div> -<div class="verse">In the free soul dost countless fetters place,</div> -<div class="verse">If, proud of godhead, thou thyself dost call</div> -<div class="verse">By such a lofty name, spurn in disgrace</div> -<div class="verse">Him, who, surrendered to the marriage tie,</div> -<div class="verse">To a new noose would yield his fantasy.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Strive thou that pure and spotless evermore</div> -<div class="verse">The law of holy wedlock may remain,</div> -<div class="verse">Turn thou thy mind thereto with all thy power,</div> -<div class="verse">Unfurl thy banner on this fair champaign,</div> -<div class="verse">See what sweet fruit he hopes, what lovely flower,</div> -<div class="verse">For little toil, who doth himself constrain</div> -<div class="verse">To bear this yoke, as duty bids and right;</div> -<div class="verse">For, though a burden, 'tis a burden light.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Thou canst, if thou no more rememberest</div> -<div class="verse">Thy misdeeds and thy peevish character,</div> -<div class="verse">Make glad the marriage bed, the happy nest,</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118"></a>[Pg 118]</span> -<div class="verse">Wherein the nuptial yoke unites the pair;</div> -<div class="verse">Set thyself in their soul, and in their breast</div> -<div class="verse">Until their life have ended its career,</div> -<div class="verse">Then may they go (and to this hope we cling)</div> -<div class="verse">To enjoy the pleasures of the eternal spring.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">Do thou the shepherd's tiny cot pass by,</div> -<div class="verse">To do his duty leave the shepherd free,</div> -<div class="verse">Fly higher yet, since thou so high dost fly,</div> -<div class="verse">Seek for a better pastime, nobler be:</div> -<div class="verse">To make of souls a sacrifice on high</div> -<div class="verse">Thou toilest and dost watch;—'tis vanity,</div> -<div class="verse">If thou dost bring them not with better mind</div> -<div class="verse">To the sweet union Hymen hath designed.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">The mighty hand of thy amazing might</div> -<div class="verse">Thou canst herein to all the world display,</div> -<div class="verse">Making the tender bride in love delight,</div> -<div class="verse">And by her bridegroom be beloved alway;</div> -<div class="verse">The infernal jealous madness that doth blight</div> -<div class="verse">Their peace and comfort, thou canst drive away;</div> -<div class="verse">Suffer not scornful harsh disdain to keep</div> -<div class="verse">Far from their eyelids sweet refreshing sleep.</div> -</div> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse ileft3">But if the prayers of him who was thy friend</div> -<div class="verse">Have never, traitorous Love, been heard by thee,</div> -<div class="verse">To these of mine thou wilt no hearing lend,</div> -<div class="verse">For I thy foe am, and shall ever be;</div> -<div class="verse">Thy character, thy works of evil end,</div> -<div class="verse">Whereof is witness all humanity,</div> -<div class="verse">Lead me to expect not from thy hand a wealth</div> -<div class="verse">Of peace or fortune, happiness or health.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Already those who listened to the loveless Lenio as they went -along were wondering at seeing with what meekness he was treating -the things of Love, calling him a god, and of a mighty hand—a -thing they had never heard him say. But having heard -the verses with which he ended his song, they could not refrain -from laughter, for it already seemed to them that he was getting -angry as he went on, and that if he proceeded further in his -song, he would deal with love as he was wont at other times; -but time failed him, for the way was at an end. And so, when -they had come to the temple, and the usual ceremonies had -been performed therein by the priests, Daranio and Silveria -remained bound in a tight and perpetual knot, not without the -envy of many who saw them, nor without the grief of some who -coveted Silveria's beauty. But every grief would have been -surpassed by that which the hapless Mireno would have felt, -had he been present at this spectacle. The wedded pair having -returned from the temple with the same company that had -escorted them, came to the village square, where they found the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119"></a>[Pg 119]</span> -tables set, and where Daranio wished publicly to make a -demonstration of his wealth, offering to all the people a liberal -and sumptuous feast. The square was so covered with branches, -that it seemed a lovely green forest, the branches interwoven -above in such wise that the sun's keen rays in all that compass -found no entry to warm the cool ground, which was covered -with many sword-lilies and a great diversity of flowers. There, -then, to the general content of all was celebrated the liberal -banquet, to the sound of many pastoral instruments, which gave -no less pleasure than is wont to be given by the bands playing -in harmony usual in royal palaces; but that which most -exalted the feast was to see, that, on removing the tables, they -made with much speed in the same place a stage, because -the four discreet and hapless shepherds, Orompo, Marsilio, -Crisio, and Orfenio, so as to honour their friend Daranio's -wedding, and to satisfy the desire Thyrsis and Damon had to -hear them, wished there in public to recite an eclogue, which -they themselves had composed on the occasion of their own -griefs. All the shepherds and shepherdesses who were there -being then arranged in their seats, after that Erastro's pipe, and -Lenio's lyre and the other instruments made those present keep -peaceful and marvellous silence, the first who showed himself in -the humble theatre was the sad Orompo, clad in black skin-coat, -and a crook of yellow box-wood in his hand, the end of -which was an ugly figure of Death. He came crowned with -leaves of mournful cypress, all emblems of grief which reigned -in him by reason of the untimely death of his beloved Listea; -and after he had, with sad look, turned his weeping eyes in all -directions, with tokens of infinite grief and bitterness he broke -the silence with words like these:</p> - -<p class="p01">O<small>ROMPO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Come from the depths of my grief-stricken breast,</span><br /> -Oh words of blood, with death commingled come,<br /> -Break open the left side that keeps you dumb,<br /> -If 'tis my sighs perchance that hold you fast.<br /> -The air impedes you, for 'tis fired at last<br /> -By the fierce poison of your utterance;<br /> -Come forth and let the breezes bear you hence,<br /> -As they have borne my bliss adown the blast.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">For ye will lose but little when ye see</span><br /> -Yourselves lost, since your lofty theme has gone,<br /> -For whom in weighty style and perfect tone<br /> -Utterance ye gave to things of high degree.<br /> -Famed were ye once, of high renown were ye,<br /> -For sweetness, and for wittiness and gladness;<br /> -But now for bitterness, for tears and sadness,<br /> -Will ye by Heaven and earth appraisèd be.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120"></a>[Pg 120]</span></p> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Although ye issue trembling at my cry</span><br /> -With what words can ye utter what I feel,<br /> -If my fierce torment is incapable<br /> -Of being as 'tis painted vividly?<br /> -Alas, for neither means nor time have I<br /> -To express the pain and sinking at my heart;<br /> -But what my tongue doth lack to tell its smart,<br /> -My eyes by constant weeping may supply.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh death, who cuttest short by cruel guile</span><br /> -A thousand pleasant purposes of man,<br /> -And in a moment turnest hill to plain,<br /> -Making Henares equal unto Nile,<br /> -Why didst thou temper not thy cruel style,<br /> -Traitor, and why didst thou, in my despite,<br /> -Make trial on a bosom fair and white<br /> -Of thy fierce hanger's edge with fury vile?</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">How came it that the green and tender years</span><br /> -Of that fair lamb did, false one, thee displease?<br /> -Wherefore didst thou my woes by hers increase?<br /> -Why didst thou show thyself to her so fierce?<br /> -Enemy mine, friend of deceitful cares,<br /> -Goest thou from me who seek thee, and concealest<br /> -Thyself from me, while thou thyself revealest<br /> -To him who more than I thy evils fears?</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">On riper years thy law tyrannical</span><br /> -Might well its giant vigour have displayed,<br /> -Nor dealt its cruel blow against a maid,<br /> -Who hath of living had enjoyment small;<br /> -But yet thy sickle which arrangeth all—<br /> -By no prayer turned aside nor word of power—<br /> -Moweth with ruthless blade the tender flower<br /> -E'en as the knotty reed, stalwart and tall.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">When thou Listea from the world away</span><br /> -Didst take, thy nature and thy strength, thy worth,<br /> -Thy spirit, wrath and lordship to the earth<br /> -Thou didst by that proud deed alone display.<br /> -All that the earth possesseth fair and gay,<br /> -Graceful and witty, thou didst likewise doom,<br /> -When thou didst doom Listea; in her tomb<br /> -Thou didst with her this wealth of blisses lay.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">My painful life grows longer, and its weight</span><br /> -I can no more upon my shoulders bear,<br /> -For without her I am in darkness drear;<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121"></a>[Pg 121]</span> -His life is death who is not fortunate.<br /> -I have no hope in fortune nor in fate,<br /> -I have no hope in time, no hope in Heaven;<br /> -I may not hope for solace to be given,<br /> -Nor yet for good where evil is so great.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh ye who feel what sorrow is, come, find</span><br /> -In mine your consolation, when ye see<br /> -Its strength, its vigour and alacrity;<br /> -Then ye will see how far yours falls behind.<br /> -Where are ye now, shepherds graceful and kind,<br /> -Crisio, Marsilio, and Orfenio? What<br /> -Do ye? Why come ye not? Why count ye not<br /> -Mine greater far than troubles of your mind?</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">But who is this who cometh into sight,</span><br /> -Emerging at the crossing of yon path?<br /> -Marsilio 'tis, whom Love as prisoner hath,<br /> -The cause Belisa, her praise his delight.<br /> -The fierce snake of disdain with cruel bite<br /> -His soul doth ever gnaw and eke his breast,<br /> -He spends his life in torment without rest,<br /> -And yet not his but mine the blacker plight.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">He thinks the ill that makes his soul complain</span><br /> -Is greater than the sorrow of my woe.<br /> -Within this thicket 'twill be well to go,<br /> -That I may see if he perchance complain.<br /> -Alas! to think to match it with the pain<br /> -That never leaves me is but vanity.<br /> -The road mine opens that to ill draws nigh,<br /> -Closing the pathway that doth bliss attain.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">M<small>ARSILIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh steps that by steps bring</span><br /> -Me to death's agonies<br /> -I am constrained to blame your tardiness!<br /> -Unto the sweet lot cling,<br /> -For in your swiftness lies<br /> -My bliss, and in such hour of bitterness.<br /> -Behold, me to distress,<br /> -The hardness of my foe<br /> -Within her angry breast,<br /> -Hostile unto my rest,<br /> -Doth ever do what it was wont to do,<br /> -And therefore let us flee,<br /> -If but we can, from her dread cruelty.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">To what clime shall I go,</span><br /> -Or to what land unknown<br /> -To make my dwelling there, that I may be<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122"></a>[Pg 122]</span> -Safe from tormenting woe,<br /> -From sad and certain moan,<br /> -Which shall not end till it hath ended me?<br /> -Whether I stay or flee<br /> -To Libya's sandy plains<br /> -Or to the dwelling-place<br /> -Of Scythia's savage race,<br /> -One thing alone doth mitigate my pain;<br /> -That a contented mind<br /> -I do not in a change of dwelling find.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">It wins me everywhere,</span><br /> -The rigorous disdain<br /> -Of her that hath no peer, my cruel foe,<br /> -And yet an issue fair<br /> -'Tis not for me to gain<br /> -From Love or hope amidst such cruel woe.<br /> -Belisa, daylight's glow,<br /> -Thou glory of our age,<br /> -If prayers of a friend<br /> -Have power thy will to bend,<br /> -Temper of thy right hand the ruthless rage!<br /> -The fire my breast doth hold,<br /> -May it have power in thine to melt the cold.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yet deaf unto my cry,</span><br /> -Ruthless and merciless,<br /> -As to the wearied mariner's appeal<br /> -The tempest raging by<br /> -That stirs the angry sea,<br /> -Threatening to life the doom unspeakable,<br /> -Adamant, marble, steel,<br /> -And rugged Alpine brow,<br /> -The sturdy holm-oak old,<br /> -The oak that to the cold<br /> -North wind its lofty crest doth never bow,<br /> -All gentle are and kind<br /> -Compared unto the wrath in thee we find.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">My hard and bitter fate,</span><br /> -My unrelenting star,<br /> -My will that bears it all and suffereth,<br /> -This doom did promulgate,<br /> -Thankless Belisa fair,<br /> -That I should serve and love thee e'en in death<br /> -Though thy brow threateneth<br /> -With ruthless, angry frown,<br /> -And though thine eyes so clear<br /> -A thousand woes declare,<br /> -Yet mistress of this soul I shall thee crown,<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123"></a>[Pg 123]</span> -Until a mortal veil<br /> -Of flesh no more on earth my soul conceal.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Can there be good that vies</span><br /> -With my tormenting ill,<br /> -Can any earthly ill such anguish give?<br /> -For each of them doth rise<br /> -Far beyond human skill,<br /> -And without her in living death I live,<br /> -In disdain I revive<br /> -My faith, and there 'tis found<br /> -Burnt with the chilly cold.<br /> -What vanity behold,<br /> -The unwonted sorrow that my soul doth wound!<br /> -Can it be equal, see,<br /> -Unto the ill that fain would greater be?</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">But who is he who stirs</span><br /> - The interwoven boughs<br /> - Of this round-crested myrtle, thick and green?</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">O<small>ROMPO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">A shepherd who avers,</span><br /> -Reasoning from his woes,<br /> -Founding his words upon the truth therein,<br /> -That it must needs be seen<br /> -His sorrow doth surpass<br /> -The sorrow thou dost feel,<br /> -The higher thou mayst raise it,<br /> -Exalt it, and appraise it.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">M<small>ARS.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Conquered wilt thou remain in such a deal,</span><br /> -Orompo, friend so true.<br /> -And thou thyself shalt witness be thereto.<br /> -If of my agonies,<br /> -If of my maddening ill,<br /> -The very smallest part thou didst but know, <br /> -Thy vanities would cease,<br /> -For thou wouldst see that still<br /> -My sufferings all are true, and thine but show.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">O<small>ROMPO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Deem thy mysterious woe</span><br /> -A phantom of the mind,<br /> -Than mine, that doth distress<br /> -My life, reckon thine less,<br /> -For I will save thee from thine error blind,<br /> -And the dear truth reveal,<br /> -That thy ill is a shadow, mine is real.<br /> -But, lo! the voice I hear<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124"></a>[Pg 124]</span> -Of Crisio, sounding plain.<br /> -A shepherd he, whose views with thine agree,<br /> -To him let us give ear,<br /> -For his distressful pain<br /> -Maketh him swell with pride, as thine doth thee.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">M<small>ARS.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">To-day time offers me</span><br /> -Place and occasion where<br /> -I can display to both<br /> -And prove to you the truth<br /> -That only I misfortune know and care.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">O<small>ROMPO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Marsilio, now attend</span><br /> -Unto the voice and sad theme of thy friend.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">C<small>RISIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ah! hard oppressive absence, sad and drear,</span><br /> -How far must he have been from knowing thee,<br /> -Who did thy force and violence compare<br /> -To death's invincible supremacy!<br /> -For when death doth pronounce his doom severe,<br /> -What then can he do more, so weak is he,<br /> -That to undo the knot and stoutest tether<br /> -That holdeth soul and body firm together?</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thy cruel sword to greater ill extends,</span><br /> -Since into two one spirit it doth part.<br /> -Love's miracles, which no man understands,<br /> -Nor are attained by learning or by art.<br /> -Oh let my soul with one who understands,<br /> -There leave its half, and bring the weaker part<br /> -Hither, whereby more ill I on me lay,<br /> -Than if from life I were far, far away!</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Away am I from yonder eyes so fair,</span><br /> -Which calmed my torment in my hour of need,<br /> -Eyes, life of him who could behold them clear,<br /> -If they the fancy did not further lead;<br /> -For to behold and think of merit there<br /> -Is but a foolish, daring, reckless deed,<br /> -I see them not, I saw them to my wrong,<br /> -And now I perish, for to see I long.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Longing have I, and rightly, to behold—</span><br /> -The term of my distress to abbreviate—<br /> -This friendship rent in twain which hath of old<br /> -United soul to flesh with love so great,<br /> -That from the frame set free which doth it hold,<br /> -With ready speed and wondrous flight elate,<br /> -It will be able to behold again<br /> -Those eyes, relief and glory to its pain.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125"></a>[Pg 125]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Pain is the payment and the recompense</span><br /> -That Love doth to the absent lover give;<br /> -Herein is summed all suffering and offence,<br /> -That in Love's sufferings we do perceive;<br /> -Neither to use discretion for defence,<br /> -Nor in the fire of loyal love to live<br /> -With thoughts exalted, doth avail to assuage<br /> -This torment's cruel pain and violent rage.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Raging and violent is this cruel distress,</span><br /> -And yet withal so long doth it endure,<br /> -That, ere it endeth, endeth steadfastness,<br /> -And even life's career, wretched and poor;<br /> -Death, jealousy, disdain, and fickleness,<br /> -An unkind, angry heart, do not assure<br /> -Such torment, nor inflict wounds so severe,<br /> -As doth this ill, whose very name is fear.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fearful it were, did not a grief, so fierce</span><br /> -As this, produce in me such mortal grief;<br /> -And yet it is not mortal, since my years<br /> -End not, though I am absent from my life;<br /> -But I'll no more my woeful song rehearse,<br /> -For to such swains, in charm and wisdom chief,<br /> -As those I see before me, 'twill be right<br /> -That I should show to see them more delight.</p> - </div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">O<small>ROMPO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Delight thy presence gives us, Crisio friend,</span><br /> -And more, because thou comest at an hour,<br /> -When we our ancient difference may end.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">C<small>RISIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If it delights thee, come, let us once more</span><br /> -Begin, for in Marsilio of our strife<br /> -A righteous judge we have to plead before.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">M<small>ARS.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Clearly ye show and prove your error rife,</span><br /> -Wherewith ye twain are so besotted, drawn<br /> -By the vain fancy that rules o'er your life,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Since ye wish that the sorrows ye bemoan,</span><br /> -Although so small, should be to mine preferred,<br /> -Bewailed enough, and yet so little known.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">But that it may by earth and Heaven be heard,</span><br /> -How far your sorrows fall below the pain<br /> -That hath my soul beset and hope deferred,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">I will the least my bosom doth contain,</span><br /> -Put forth, with all the feeble wit I have—<br /> -Methinks the victory in your strife I'll gain—</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">And unto you I shall the verdict leave,</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126"></a>[Pg 126]</span> -To judge my ill whether it harroweth<br /> -More than the absence which doth Crisio grieve,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Or than the dread and bitter ill of death;</span><br /> -For each of you doth heedless make his plaint,<br /> -Bitter and brief he calls the lot he hath.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">O<small>ROMPO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thereat I feel, Marsilio, much content,</span><br /> -Because the reason I have on my side,<br /> -Hath to my anguish hope of triumph sent.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">C<small>RISIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Although the skill is unto me denied</span><br /> -To exaggerate, when I my grief proclaim,<br /> -Ye will behold how yours are set aside.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">M<small>ARS.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Unto the deathless hardness of my dame</span><br /> -What absence reaches? Though so hard is she,<br /> -Mistress of beauty her the world acclaim.</p> -</div> -</div> -<p class="p01">O<small>ROMPO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">At what a happy hour and juncture see,</span><br /> -Orfenio comes in sight! Be ye intent,<br /> -And ye will hear him weigh his misery.<br /> -'Tis jealousy that doth his soul torment,<br /> -A very knife is jealousy, the sure<br /> -Disturber of Love's peace and Love's content.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">C<small>RISIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Hearken, he sings the griefs he doth endure.</span></p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">O<small>RFENIO</small>.</p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh gloomy shadow, thou that followest</span><br /> -My sorrowing and confused fancy still,<br /> -Thou darkness irksome, thou that, cold and chill,<br /> -Hast ever my content and light oppressed.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">When will it be that thou thy bitterest</span><br /> -Wrath wilt assuage, cruel monster, harpy fell?<br /> -What dost thou gain to make my joy a hell?<br /> -What bliss, that thou my bliss dost from me wrest?</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">But if the mood thou dost upon thee take,</span><br /> -Leadeth thee on to seek his life to steal,<br /> -Who life and being unto thee did give,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Methinks I should not wonder thou dost wreak</span><br /> -Thy will upon me, and upon my weal,<br /> -But that despite my woes, I yet do live.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">O<small>ROMPO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If the delightful mead</span><br /> -Is pleasant to thee as 'twas wont to be<br /> -In times that now are dead,<br /> -Come hither; thou art free<br /> -To spend the day in our sad company.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">He that is sad agrees</span><br /> -Easily with the sad, as thou must know;<br /> -Come hither, here one flees,<br /> -Beside this clear spring's flow,<br /> -The sun's bright rays that high in heaven glow.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127"></a>[Pg 127]</span></p> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Come and thyself defend,</span><br /> -As is thy custom, raise thy wonted strain,<br /> -Against each sorrowing friend.<br /> -For each doth strive amain<br /> -To show that his alone is truly pain.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">I only in the strife</span><br /> -Must needs opponent be to each and all,<br /> -The sorrow of my life<br /> -I can indeed extol,<br /> -But cannot give expression to the whole.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">O<small>RFENIO</small>.</p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;"> The luscious grassy sward</span><br /> -Is not unto the hungry lamb so sweet,<br /> -Nor health once more restored<br /> -Doth he so gladly greet<br /> -Who had already held its loss complete,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">As pleasant 'tis for me</span><br /> -In the contest that is at hand to show<br /> -That the cruel misery<br /> -My suffering heart doth know<br /> -Is far above the greatest here below.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Orompo, speak no word</span><br /> -Of thy great ill, Crisio, thy grief contain,<br /> -Let naught from thee be heard,<br /> -Marsilio; death, disdain,<br /> -Absence, seek not to rival jealous pain.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">But if Heaven so desires</span><br /> -That we to-day should seek the battle-field,<br /> -Begin, whoso aspires,<br /> -And of his sorrow yield<br /> -Token with all the skill his tongue can wield.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">A truthful history</span><br /> -In the pure truth doth find its resting-place.<br /> -For it can never be,<br /> -That elegance and grace<br /> -Of speech can form its substance and its base.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">C<small>RISIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Shepherd, in this great arrogance I feel</span><br /> -Thou wilt reveal the folly of thy life<br /> -When in this strife of passions we engage.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">O<small>RFENIO</small>.</p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thy pride assuage or show it in its hour,</span><br /> -Thine anguish sore is but a pastime, friend, <br /> -The souls that bend in grief, because they go <br /> -Away, their woe must needs exaggerate.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128"></a>[Pg 128]</span></p> - -<p class="p01">C<small>RISIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">So strange and great the torment is I moan,</span><br /> -That thou full soon thyself, I trust, wilt say<br /> -That nothing may with my fatigues compare.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">M<small>ARS.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">An evil star shone on me from my birth.</span></p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">O<small>ROMPO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ere yet on earth I came, methinks e'en then</span><br /> -Misfortune, pain, and misery, were mine.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">O<small>RFENIO</small>.</p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">In me divine the greatest of ill-fortune.</span></p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">C<small>RISIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thy ill is fortune, when to mine compared.</span></p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">M<small>ARS.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">When it is paired with my mysterious ill,</span><br /> -The wound that kills you is but glory plain.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">O<small>ROMPO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;"> This tangled skein will soon be very clear,</span><br /> -When bright and clear my grief it doth reveal.<br /> -Let none conceal the pain his breast within,<br /> -For I the tale of mine do now begin.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">In good ground my hopes were sown,</span><br /> -Goodly fruit they promised then,<br /> -But when their desire was known,<br /> -And their willingness was shown,<br /> -Heaven changed their fruit to pain.<br /> -I beheld their wondrous flower,<br /> -Eager happiness to shower<br /> -On me—thousand proofs it gave—<br /> -Death that envious did it crave<br /> -Plucked it in that very hour.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Like the labourer was I,</span><br /> -Who doth toil without relief<br /> -And with lingering energy,<br /> -Winning from his destiny<br /> -But the bitter fruit of grief:<br /> -Destiny doth take away<br /> -All hope of a better day,<br /> -For the Heaven that to him brings<br /> -Confidence of better things<br /> -It beneath the earth did lay.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If to this pass I attain,</span><br /> -That e'en now I live, despairing<br /> -Whether I shall glory gain.<br /> -Since I suffer beyond bearing,<br /> -'Tis a certain truth and plain:<br /> -That amidst the darkest gloom<br /> -Hope assures that there shall come<br /> -Yet a happier, brighter dawn.<br /> -Woe for him, whose hope is gone,<br /> -Buried in the hopeless tomb.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129"></a>[Pg 129]</span></p> -<p class="p01">M<small>ARS.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">From mine eyes the tear-drops fall</span><br /> -On a spot where many a thorn,<br /> -Many a bramble, hath been born<br /> -To my hurt, for, once and all,<br /> -They my loving heart have torn:<br /> -I am luckless, yes, 'tis I,<br /> -Though my cheeks were never dry<br /> -For a moment in my grief,<br /> -Yet nor fruit, nor flower, nor leaf,<br /> -Have I won, howe'er I try.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">For my bosom would be stilled,</span><br /> -If I might a token see<br /> -Of some gain, small though it be;<br /> -Though it never were fulfilled,<br /> -I should win felicity:<br /> -For the worth I should behold<br /> -Of my fond persistence bold<br /> -Over her who doth so scorn,<br /> -That she at my chill doth burn,<br /> -At my fire is chilly cold.</p> - - <p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">But if all the toil is vain</span><br /> -Of my mourning and my sigh,<br /> -And I still cease not my cry,<br /> -With my more than human pain<br /> -What on earth can hope to vie?<br /> -Dead the cause is of thy grief,<br /> -This, Orompo, brings relief,<br /> -And thy sorrow doth suppress;<br /> -But when my grief most doth press<br /> -On me, 'tis beyond belief.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">C<small>RISIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Once the fruit that was the dower</span><br /> -Of my ceaseless adoration<br /> -I held in its ripest hour;<br /> -Ere I tasted it, occasion<br /> -Came and snatched it from my power:<br /> -I above the rest the name<br /> -Of unfortunate can claim,<br /> -Since to suffering I shall come,<br /> -For no longer lies my doom<br /> -Where I left my soul aflame.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">When death robs us of our bliss,</span><br /> -We for ever from it part,<br /> -And we find relief in this.<br /> -Time can soften e'en the heart<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130"></a>[Pg 130]</span> -Hard and firm against Love's cries.<br /> -But in absence we the pain<br /> -Of death, jealousy, disdain,<br /> -Feel with ne'er a glimpse of gladness,—<br /> -Strange it is—hence fear and sadness<br /> -With the absent one remain.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">When the hope at hand is near,</span><br /> -And the accomplishment delays,<br /> -Harder is the pain we bear,<br /> -And affliction reacheth where<br /> -Hope doth never lift its gaze;<br /> -In the lesser pangs ye feel<br /> -'Tis the remedy of your ill<br /> -Not to hope for remedy,<br /> -But this solace faileth me,<br /> -For the pangs of absence kill.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">O<small>RFENIO</small>.</p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Lo, the fruit that had been sown</span><br /> -By my toil that had no end,<br /> -When to sweetness it had grown,<br /> -Was by destiny my friend<br /> -Given to me for my own.<br /> -Scarce to this unheard of pass<br /> -Could I come, when I, alas!<br /> -Came the bitter truth to know,<br /> -That I should but grief and woe<br /> -From that happiness amass.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">In my hand the fruit I hold,</span><br /> -And to hold it wearies me,<br /> -For amidst my woes untold<br /> -In the largest ear I see<br /> -A worm gnawing, fierce and bold;<br /> -I abhor what I adore,<br /> -And that which doth life restore<br /> -Brings death; for myself I shape<br /> -Winding mazes, whence escape<br /> -Is denied for evermore.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">In my loss for death I sigh,</span><br /> -For 'tis life unto my woe.<br /> -In the truth I find a lie,<br /> -Greater doth the evil grow<br /> -Whether I be far or nigh;<br /> -No hope is there that is sure<br /> -Such an ill as this to cure;<br /> -Whether I remain or go,<br /> -Of this living death the woe<br /> -I must evermore endure.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131"></a>[Pg 131]</span></p> - -<p class="p01">O<small>ROMPO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">'Tis sure an error clear</span><br /> -To argue that the loss which death hath sent<br /> -Since it extends so far,<br /> -Doth bring in part content,<br /> -Because it takes away<br /> -The hope that fosters grief and makes it stay.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If of the glory dead</span><br /> -The memory that doth disturb our peace<br /> -Forever shall have fled,<br /> -The sorrow doth decrease,<br /> -Which at its loss we feel,<br /> -Since we can hope no more to keep it still.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">But if the memory stays,</span><br /> -The memory of the bliss already fled<br /> -Doth live the more and blaze<br /> -Than when possessed indeed;<br /> -Who doubteth that this pain<br /> -Doth more than others untold miseries gain?</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">M<small>ARS.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If it should be the chance</span><br /> -Of a poor traveller by some unknown way<br /> -To find at his advance<br /> -Fleeing at close of day<br /> -The inn of his desire,<br /> -The inn for which he doth in vain aspire,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Doubtless he will remain</span><br /> -Dazed by the fear the dark and silent night<br /> -Inspires, and yet again<br /> -Hapless will be his plight,<br /> -If dawn comes not, for Heaven<br /> -To him hath not its gladdening radiance given.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The traveller am I,</span><br /> -I journey on to reach a happy inn;<br /> -Whene'er I think that nigh<br /> -I come to enter in,<br /> -Then, like a fleeting shadow,<br /> -Bliss flees away, and grief doth overshadow.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">C<small>RISIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">E'en as the torrent deep</span><br /> -Is wont the traveller's weary steps to hold,<br /> -And doth the traveller keep<br /> -'Midst wind and snow and cold,<br /> -And, just a little space<br /> -Beyond, the inn appears before his face,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">E'en so my happiness</span><br /> -Is by this painful tedious absence stayed;<br /> -To comfort my distress<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132"></a>[Pg 132]</span> -'Tis ever sore afraid,<br /> -And yet before mine eyes<br /> -I see the healer of my miseries.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">And thus to see so near</span><br /> -The cure of my distress afflicts me sore,<br /> -And makes it greater far,<br /> -Because my bliss before<br /> -My hand doth further flee<br /> -For some strange cause, the nearer 'tis to me.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">O<small>RFENIO</small>.</p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">I saw before mine eyes</span><br /> -A noble inn, that did in bliss abound,<br /> -I triumphed in my prize,<br /> -Too soon, alas, I found<br /> -That vile it had become,<br /> -Changed by my fate to darkness and to gloom.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">There, where we ever see</span><br /> -The bliss of those who love each other well,<br /> -There is my misery;<br /> -There where is wont to dwell<br /> -All bliss, is evil plain,<br /> -United in alliance with disdain.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">In this abode I lie—</span><br /> -And never do I strive to issue hence—<br /> -Built by my agony,<br /> -And with so strange a fence,<br /> -Methinks they to the ground<br /> -Bring it, who love, see, and resist its wound.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="p01">O<small>ROMPO.</small></div> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sooner the path that is his own, the sun</span><br /> -Shall end, whereon he wanders through the sky<br /> -After he hath through all the Zodiac run,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Than we the least part of our agony</span><br /> -According to our pain can well declare,<br /> -However much we raise our speech on high.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em; ">He who lives absent dies, says Crisio there,</span><br /> -But I, that I am dead, since to the reign<br /> -Of death fate handed o'er my life's career.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em; ">And boldly thou, Marsilio, dost maintain</span><br /> -That thou of joy and bliss hast lost all chance,<br /> -Since that which slayeth thee is fierce disdain.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em; ">Unto this thought thou givest utterance,</span><br /> -Orfenio, that 'tis through thy soul doth pass,<br /> -Not through thy breast alone, the jealous lance.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em; ">As each the woes through which his fellows pass</span><br /> -Feels not, he praiseth but the grief he knows,<br /> -Thinking it doth his fellows' pangs surpass.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em; ">Wherefore his bank rich Tagus overflows,</span><br /> -Swollen by our strife of tears and mournfulness,<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133"></a>[Pg 133]</span> -Wherein with piteous words we moan our woes.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Our pain doth not thereby become the less,</span><br /> -Rather because we handle so the wound,<br /> -It doth condemn us to the more distress.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">We must our plaints renew with all the sound</span><br /> -Our tongues can utter, and with all the thought<br /> -That can within our intellects be found.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then let us cease our disputation, taught</span><br /> -That every ill doth anguish bring and pain,<br /> -Nor is there good with sure contentment fraught.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sufficient ill he hath that doth constrain</span><br /> -His life within the confines of a tomb,<br /> -And doth in bitter loneliness remain,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Unhappy he—and mournful is his doom—</span><br /> -Who suffereth the pangs of jealousy,<br /> -In whom nor strength nor judgment findeth room,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">And he, who spends his days in misery,</span><br /> -By the cruel power of absence long oppressed,<br /> -Patience his only staff, weak though it be;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor doth the eager lover suffer least</span><br /> -Who feels, when most he burns, his lady's power,<br /> -By her hard heart and coldness sore distressed.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">C<small>RISIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">His bidding let us do, for lo, the hour</span><br /> -E'en now with rapid flight comes on apace,<br /> -When we our herds must needs collect once more.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">And while unto the wonted sheltering-place</span><br /> -We go, and whilst the radiant sun to rest<br /> -Sinketh and from the meadow hides his face,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">With bitter voice and mourning manifest,</span><br /> -Making the while harmonious melody,<br /> -Sing we the grief that hath our souls oppressed.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">M<small>ARS.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Begin then, Crisio, may thine accents fly</span><br /> -With speed unto Claraura's ears once more,<br /> -Borne gently by the winds that hasten by,<br /> -As unto one who doth their grief restore.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">C<small>RISIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whoso from the grievous cup</span><br /> -Of dread absence comes to drink,<br /> -Hath no ill from which to shrink,<br /> -Nor yet good for which to hope.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">In this bitter misery</span><br /> -Every evil is contained:<br /> -Fear lest we should be disdained,<br /> -Of our rivals' jealousy.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whoso shall with absence cope,</span><br /> -Straightway will he come to think<br /> -That from no ill can he shrink,<br /> -Nor for any good can hope.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134"></a>[Pg 134]</span></p> -<p class="p01">O<small>ROMPO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">True 'tis ill that makes me sigh</span><br /> -More than any death I know,<br /> -Since life findeth cause of woe<br /> -In that death doth pass it by.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">For when death did take away</span><br /> -All my glory and content,<br /> -That it might the more torment,<br /> -It allowed my life to stay.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Evil comes, and hastily</span><br /> -With such swiftness good doth go,<br /> -That life findeth cause of woe<br /> -In that death doth pass it by.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">M<small>ARS.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">In my dread and grievous woe</span><br /> -Now are wanting to my eyes<br /> -Tears, and breath unto my sighs,<br /> -Should my troubles greater grow,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">For ingratitude, disdain,</span><br /> -Hold me in their toils so fast<br /> -That from death I hope at last<br /> -Longer life and greater gain.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Little can it linger now,</span><br /> -Since are wanting to my eyes<br /> -Tears, and breath unto my sighs,<br /> -Should my troubles greater grow.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">O<small>RFENIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">If it could, my joy should be</span><br /> -Truly all things else above:<br /> -If but jealousy were love,<br /> -And if love were jealousy.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">From this transformation I</span><br /> -So much bliss and pride should gain<br /> -That of love I would attain<br /> -To the palm and victory.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">If 'twere so, then jealousy</span><br /> -Would so much my champion prove,<br /> -That, if jealousy were love,<br /> -Nothing I save love should be.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">With this last song of the jealous Orfenio, the discreet shepherds -made an end of their eclogue, leaving all who had heard -them satisfied with their discretion: especially Damon and -Thyrsis, who felt great pleasure at hearing them, for it seemed -to them that the reasonings and arguments which the four -shepherds had propounded to carry through their proposition, -seemed of more than shepherd wit. But a contest having arisen -between many of the bystanders as to which of the four had -pleaded his cause best, at last the opinion of all came to agree -with that which discreet Damon gave, saying to them that he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_135"></a>[Pg 135]</span> -for his part held that, among all the distasteful and unpleasing -things that love brings with it, nothing so much distresses the -loving breast as the incurable plague of jealousy, and neither -Orompo's loss, nor Crisio's absence, nor Marsilio's despair -could be equalled to it.</p> - -<p>'The cause is,' he said, 'that it is not in reason that -things which have become impossible of attainment should be -able for long to compel the will to love them, or weary the -desire to attain them; for when a man has the will and desire -to attain the impossible, it is clear that the more desire is -excessive in him, the more he would lack understanding. And -for this same reason I say that the pain Orompo suffers is but -grief and pity for a lost happiness; and because he has lost it in -such a way that it is not possible to recover it again, this -impossibility must be the cause of his sorrow ending. For -although human understanding cannot be always so united with -reason as to cease feeling the loss of the happiness which cannot -be recovered, and must in fact give tokens of its feeling by tender -tears, ardent sighs, and piteous words, under pain, should one -not do this, of being counted rather brute than rational man—in -a word, the course of time cures this sorrowing, reason softens -it, and new events have a great share in blotting it from memory. -All this is the contrary in absence, as Crisio well pointed out in -his verses, for, as in the absent one, hope is so united to desire, -the postponement of return gives him terrible distress; seeing -that, as nothing hinders him from enjoying his happiness except -some arm of the sea, or some stretch of land, it seems to him, -having the chief thing, which is the good-will of the beloved -person, that flagrant wrong is done to his bliss, in that things so -trivial as a little water or land should hinder his happiness and -glory. To this pain are also joined the fear of being forgotten, -and the changes of human hearts; and so long as absence -endures, strange without a doubt is the harshness and rigour -with which it treats the soul of the hapless absent one. But as -it has the remedy so near, which consists in return, its torment -can be borne with some ease; and if it should happen that the -absence should be such that it is impossible to return to the -desired presence, that impossibility comes to be the remedy, as -in the case of death. As for the sorrow of which Marsilio complains, -though it is, as it were, the same that I suffer, and on -this account must needs have seemed to me greater than any -other, I will not therefore fail to say what reason shows me, -rather than that to which passion urges me. I confess that it is -a terrible sorrow to love and not be loved; but 'twould be a -greater to love and be loathed. And if we new lovers guided -ourselves by what reason and experience teach us, we would see -that every beginning in anything is difficult, and that this rule -suffers no exception in the affairs of love, but rather in them is<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_136"></a>[Pg 136]</span> -confirmed and strengthened the more; so that for the new lover -to complain of the hardness of his lady's rebellious breast, goes -beyond all bounds of reason. For as love is, and has to be, -voluntary, and not constrained, I ought not to complain of not -being loved by anyone I love, nor ought I to attach importance -to the burden I impose on her, telling her that she is obliged to -love me since I love her; seeing that, though the beloved person -ought, in accordance with the law of nature and with fair -courtesy, not to show herself ungrateful toward him who loves -her well, it must not for this reason be a matter of constraint -and obligation that she should respond, all in all, to her lover's -desires. For if this were so, there would be a thousand -importunate lovers who would gain by their solicitude what -would perhaps not be due to them of right; and as love has the -understanding for father, it may be that she who is well loved -by me does not find in me qualities so good as to move her and -incline her to love me. And so she is not obliged, as I have -already said, to love me, in the same way that I shall be -obliged to adore her, for I found in her what is lacking in me; -and for this reason he who is disdained ought not to complain -of his beloved, but of his fortune, which denied him the graces -that might move his lady's understanding to love him well. -And so he ought to seek, with constant services, with loving -words, with not unseasonable presence, and with practised -virtues, to improve and amend in himself the fault that nature -caused; for this is so essential a remedy that I am ready to -affirm that it will be impossible for him to fail to be loved, who, -by means so fitting, shall seek to win his lady's good-will. And -since this evil of disdain has with it the good of this cure, let -Marsilio console himself, and pity the hapless and jealous -Orfenio, in whose misfortune is enclosed the greatest that can -be imagined in those of love. Oh jealousy, disturber of the -tranquil peace of love! jealousy, knife of the firmest hopes! -I know not what he could know of lineage who made thee child -of love, since thou art so much the contrary, that, for that very -reason, love would have ceased to be love, had it begotten such -children. Oh jealousy, hypocrite and false thief! seeing that, in -order that account may be taken of thee in the world, as soon as -thou seest any spark of love born in any breast, thou seekest to -mingle with it, changing thyself to its colour, and even seekest -to usurp from it the lordship and dominion it has. Hence it -comes that as men see thee so united with love, though by thy -results thou showest that thou art not love itself, yet thou -seekest to give the ignorant man to understand that thou art -love's son, though in truth thou art born from a low suspicion, begotten -by a vile and ill-starred fear, nurtured at the breast of -false imaginings, growing up amidst vilest envies, sustained by -slanders and falsehoods. And that we may see the ruin caused<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_137"></a>[Pg 137]</span> -in loving hearts by this cursed affliction of raging jealousy, -when the lover is jealous, it behoves him, with the leave of -jealous lovers be it said, it behoves him, I say, to be, as he is, -traitorous, cunning, truculent, slanderous, capricious, and even -ill-bred; and so far extends the jealous rage that masters -him, that the person he loves most is the one to whom he -wishes the most ill. The jealous lover would wish that his lady -were fair for him alone, and ugly for all the world; he desires -that she may not have eyes to see more than he might wish, -nor ears to hear, nor tongue to speak; that she may be -retiring, insipid, proud and ill-mannered; and at times he even -desires, oppressed by this devilish passion, that his lady should -die, and that all should end. All these passions jealousy -begets in the minds of jealous lovers; the opposite to the -virtues which pure and simple love multiplies in true and -courteous lovers, for in the breast of a good lover are enclosed -discretion, valour, generosity, courtesy, and all that can make -him praiseworthy in the eyes of men. At the same time the -force of this cruel poison contains yet more, for there is no -antidote to preserve it, counsel to avail it, friend to aid it, nor -excuse to fit it; all this is contained in the jealous lover, and -more—every shadow terrifies him, every trifle disturbs him, and -every suspicion, false or true, undoes him. And to all this -misfortune another is added, namely, the excuses that deceive -him. And since there is no other medicine than excuses for the -disease of jealousy, and since the jealous man suffering from it -does not wish to admit them, it follows that this disease is -without remedy, and should be placed before all others. And -thus it is my opinion that Orfenio is the most afflicted, but not -the most in love; for jealousy is not the token of much love, but -of much ill-advised curiosity. And if it is a token of love, it is -like fever in a sick man, for to have it is a sign of having life, -but a life sick and diseased; and so the jealous lover has love, -but it is love sick and ill-conditioned; and moreover to be -jealous is a token of little confidence in one's own worth. And -that this is true the discreet and firm lover teaches us, who, -without reaching the darkness of jealousy, touches on the -shadows of fear, but does not enter so far into them that they -obscure the sun of his bliss; nor goes so far away from them -that they relieve him from walking in solicitude and fear; for if -this discreet fear should be wanting in the lover, I would count -him proud and over-confident. For as a common proverb of -ours says: "Who loves well, fears"; and indeed it is right that -the lover should fear, lest, as the thing he loves is extremely -good, or seemed to him to be so, it should seem the same to the -eyes of anyone who beholds it; and for the same reason love is -begotten in another who is able to disturb his love and succeeds in -so doing. The good lover fears, and let him fear, the changes of -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_138"></a>[Pg 138]</span> -time, of the new events which might offer themselves to his hurt, -and lest the happy state he is enjoying may quickly end; and this -fear must be so secret, that it does not come to his tongue to -utter it, nor yet to his eyes to express it. And this fear produces -effects so contrary to those which jealousy produces in loving -breasts, that it fosters in them new desires to increase love more -if they could, to strive with all solicitude that the eyes of their -beloved should not see in them aught that is not worthy of -praise, showing themselves generous, courteous, gallant, pure -and well-bred; and as much as it is right that this virtuous fear -should be praised, so much, and even more, is it fitting that -jealousy should be blamed.'</p> - -<p>The renowned Damon said this and was silent, and drew in -the wake of his own opinion the opposite ones of some who had -been listening to him, leaving all satisfied with the truth he had -shown them with such plainness. But he would not have remained -without reply, had the shepherds Orompo, Crisio, -Marsilio, and Orfenio been present at his discourse; who, -wearied by the eclogue they had recited, had gone to the house -of their friend Daranio. All being thus occupied, at the moment -the various dances were about to be renewed, they saw three -comely shepherds entering on one side of the square, who were -straightway recognised by all. They were the graceful Francenio, -the frank Lauso, and the old Arsindo, who came between -the two shepherds with a lovely garland of green laurel in his -hands; and crossing through the square, they came to a stop -where Thyrsis, Damon, Elicio, and Erastro, and all the chief -shepherds were, whom they greeted with courteous words, and -were received by them with no less courtesy, especially Lauso -by Damon, whose old and true friend he was. Compliments -having ceased, Arsindo, setting eyes on Damon and Thyrsis, -began to speak in this wise:</p> - -<p>'It is the renown of your wisdom, which extends near and -far, discreet and gallant shepherds, that brings these shepherds -and myself to beg you to consent to be judges of a graceful -contest that has arisen between these two shepherds; and it is -that, the feast being over, Francenio and Lauso, who are here, -found themselves in a company of fair shepherdesses, and in -order to pass without tedium the leisure hours of the day amongst -them, they set on foot, amongst many other games, the one -which is called 'themes.' It happened then that, the turn to -propose and begin coming to one of these shepherds, fate would -have it that the shepherdess at his side and on his right hand -was, as he says, the treasurer of his soul's secrets, and the -one who was, in the opinion of all, accounted the most discreet -and most in love. Approaching then her ear, he said -to her:</p> - -<p class="p1 center">"Hope doth fly and will not stay."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_139"></a>[Pg 139]</span></p> - -<p>The shepherdess, without being at a loss, went on, and, -each one afterwards repeating in public what he had said to the -other in secret, it was found that the shepherdess had capped -the theme by saying:</p> - -<p class="p1 center">"With desire to check its flight."</p> - -<p>The acuteness of this reply was praised by those who were -present; but the one to extol it most was the shepherd Lauso, -and it seemed no less good to Francenio, and so each one, -seeing that the theme and the reply were verses of the same -measure, offered to gloss them. After having done so, each one -claims that his gloss excels the other's, and to have certainty in -this, they wished to make me judge of it, but, as I knew that your -presence was gladdening our banks, I counselled them to come -to you, to whose consuminate learning and wisdom questions of -greater import might well be trusted. They have followed my -opinion, and I have gladly taken the trouble to make this -garland that it may be given as a prize to him whom you, -shepherds, decide to have glossed the better.'</p> - -<p>Arsindo was silent and awaited the shepherds' reply, which -was to thank him for the good opinion he had of them and to -offer themselves to be impartial judges in that honourable -contest. With this assurance straightway Francenio once more -repeated the verses and recited his gloss, which was as follows:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw15"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><em>Hope doth fly and will not stay,<br /> -With desire to check its flight.</em></p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p1 center"><em>GLOSS.</em></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">When to save myself I think,</span><br /> -In the faith of love believing,<br /> -Merit fails me on the brink,<br /> -And the excesses of my grieving<br /> -Straightway from my presence shrink;<br /> -Confidence doth die away,<br /> -And life's pulse doth cease to beat,<br /> -Since misfortune seems to say,<br /> -That, when fear pursues in heat,<br /> -<em>Hope doth fly and will not stay</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Yes, it flies, and from my pain</span><br /> -With it takes away content,<br /> -And the keys of this my chain<br /> -For my greater punishment<br /> -In my enemy's power remain;<br /> -Far it rises to a height<br /> -Where 'twill soon be seen no more,<br /> -Far it flies, so swift and light<br /> -That it is not in my power<br /> -<em>With desire to check its flight</em>.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_140"></a>[Pg 140]</span></p> - -<p>Francenio having recited his gloss, Lauso began his, which -was as follows:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">In the hour I saw thee first,</span><br /> -As I viewed thy beauty rare,<br /> -Straightway did I fear and thirst;<br /> -Yet at last I did so fear,<br /> -That I was with fear accursed;<br /> -Feeble confidence straightway,<br /> -When I see thee, leads astray,<br /> -With it comes a coward's fear.<br /> -Lest they should remain so near,<br /> -<em>Hope doth fly and will not stay</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Though it leaves me and doth go</span><br /> -With so wondrous a career,<br /> -Soon a miracle will show<br /> -That the end of life is near,<br /> -But with love it is not so.<br /> -I am in a hopeless plight,<br /> -Yet that I his trophy might<br /> -Win, who loves but knows not why,<br /> -Though I could, I would not try<br /> -<em>With desire to check its flight</em>.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">As Lauso ceased reciting his gloss, Arsindo said:</p> - -<p>'Here you see declared, famous Damon and Thyrsis, the -cause of the contest between these shepherds; it only remains -now that you should give the garland to him whom you should -decide to deserve it with better right; for Lauso and Francenio -are such friends, and your award will be so just that, what shall -be decided by you, they will count as right.'</p> - -<p>'Do not think, Arsindo,' replied Thyrsis, 'that, though our -intellects were of the quality you imagine them to be, the -difference, if there be any, between these discreet glosses can or -ought to be decided with such haste. What I can say of them, -and what Damon will not seek to contradict, is that both are -equally good, and that the garland should be given to the -shepherdess who was the cause of so curious and praiseworthy -a contest; and, if you are satisfied with this judgment, reward -us for it by honouring the nuptials of our friend Daranio, -gladdening them with your pleasing songs, and giving lustre to -them by your honourable presence.'</p> - -<p>The award of Thyrsis seemed good to all, the two shepherds -approved it and offered to do what Thyrsis bade them. But -the shepherdesses and shepherds, who knew Lauso, were -astonished to see his unfettered mind entangled in the net of love, -for straightway they saw, from the paleness of his countenance, -the silence of his tongue, and the contest he had had with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_141"></a>[Pg 141]</span> -Francenio, that his will was not as free as it was wont to be, -and they went wondering among themselves who the shepherdess -might be who had triumphed over his free heart. One thought -it was the discreet Belisa, another that it was the gay Leandra, -and some that it was the peerless Arminda, being moved to -think this by Lauso's usual practice to visit the huts of these -shepherdesses, and because each of them was likely by her -grace, worth, and beauty, to subdue other hearts as free as that -of Lauso, and it was many days ere they resolved this doubt, for -the love-sick shepherd scarce trusted to himself the secret of -his love. This being ended, straightway all the youth of the -village renewed the dances, and the rustic instruments made -pleasing music. But seeing that the sun was already hastening -his course towards the setting, the concerted voices ceased, and -all who were there determined to escort the bridal pair to their -house. And the aged Arsindo, in order to fulfil what he had -promised to Thyrsis, in the space there was between the square -and Daranio's house, to the sound of Erastro's pipe went singing -these verses:</p> - -<p class="p01">A<small>RSINDO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Now let Heaven tokens show</span><br /> -Of rejoicing and of mirth<br /> -On so fortunate a day,<br /> -'Midst the joy of all below<br /> -Let all peoples on the earth<br /> -Celebrate this wedding gay.<br /> -From to-day let all their mourning<br /> -Into joyous song be turning,<br /> -And in place of grief and pain<br /> -Pleasures let the myriads gain,<br /> -From their hearts all sorrow spurning.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Let prosperity abound</span><br /> -With the happy bridal-pair,<br /> -Who were for each other made,<br /> -On their elms may pears be found,<br /> -In their oak-groves cherries rare,<br /> -Sloes amid the myrtle glade,<br /> -Pearls upon the rocky steep.<br /> -May they grapes from mastic reap,<br /> -Apples from the carob-tree.<br /> -May their sheepfolds larger be,<br /> -And no wolves attack their sheep.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">May their ewes that barren were,</span><br /> -Fruitful prove, and may they double<br /> -By their fruitfulness their flock.<br /> -May the busy bees prepare<br /> -'Midst the threshing floor and stubble,<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142"></a>[Pg 142]</span>Of sweet honey plenteous stock.<br /> -May they ever find their seed,<br /> -In the town and in the mead,<br /> -Plucked at fitting time and hour,<br /> -May no grub their vines devour,<br /> -And their wheat no blighting weed.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">In good time with children twain,</span><br /> -Perfect fruit of peace and love,<br /> -May the happy pair be blest.<br /> -And when manhood they attain,<br /> -May the one a doctor prove,<br /> -And the other a parish priest.<br /> -May they ever take the lead<br /> -In both wealth and goodly deed.<br /> -Thus they gentlemen will be,<br /> -If they give security<br /> -For no gauger full of greed.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">May they live for longer years</span><br /> -E'en than Sarah, hale and strong,<br /> -And the sorrowing doctor shun.<br /> -May they shed no bitter tears<br /> -For a daughter wedded wrong,<br /> -For a gambling spendthrift son.<br /> -May their death be, when the twain<br /> -Shall Methusaleh's years attain,<br /> -Free from guilty fear; the date<br /> -May the people celebrate<br /> -For ever and aye, Amen.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">With the greatest pleasure Arsindo's rude verses were listened to, -and he would have gone on further with them, had not their arrival -at Daranio's house hindered it. The latter, inviting all who came -with him, remained there, save that Galatea and Florisa, through -fear lest Teolinda should be recognised by Thyrsis and Damon, -would not remain at the wedding banquet. Elicio and Erastro -would fain have accompanied Galatea to her house, but it was -not possible for her to consent to it, and so they had to remain -with their friends, and the shepherdesses, wearied with the -dances of that day, departed. And Teolinda felt more pain -than ever, seeing that at Daranio's solemn nuptials, where so -many shepherds had assisted, only her Artidoro was wanting. -With this painful thought she passed that night in company -with Galatea and Florisa, who passed it with hearts more free -and more dispassionate, until on the new day to come there -happened to them what will be told in the book which follows.</p> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_143"></a>[Pg 143]</span></p> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">BOOK IV.</h2> - - -<p>With great desire the fair Teolinda awaited the coming day -to take leave of Galatea and Florisa and to finish searching by -all the banks of the Tagus for her dear Artidoro, intending to -end her life in sad and bitter solitude, if she were so poor in -fortune as to learn no news of her beloved shepherd. The -wished-for hour, then, having come, when the sun was beginning -to spread his rays over the earth, she arose, and, with tears in -her eyes, asked leave of the two shepherdesses to prosecute her -quest. They with many reasonings urged her to wait some -days more in their company, Galatea offering to her to send one -of her father's shepherds to search for Artidoro by all the banks -of the Tagus, and wherever it might be thought he could be -found. Teolinda thanked her for her offers, but would not do -what they asked of her, nay rather, after having shown in the -best words she could the obligation in which she lay to cherish -all the days of her life the favours she had received from them, -she embraced them with tender feeling and begged them not to -detain her a single hour. Then Galatea and Florisa, seeing -how vainly they wrought in thinking to detain her, charged her -to try to inform them of any incident, good or bad, that might -befall her in that loving quest, assuring her of the pleasure they -would feel at her happiness, and of their pain at her misery. -Teolinda offered to be herself the one to bring the tidings of her -good fortune, since, if they were bad, life would not have -patience to endure them, and so it would be superfluous to learn -them from her. With this promise of Teolinda Galatea and -Florisa were content, and they determined to accompany her -some distance from the place. And so, the two only taking their -crooks, and having furnished Teolinda's wallet with some -victuals for the toilsome journey, they went forth with her from -the village at a time when the sun's rays were already beginning -to strike the earth more directly and with greater force. And -having accompanied her almost half a league from the place, at -the moment they were intending to return and leave her, they -saw four men on horseback and some on foot crossing by some -broken ground which lay a little off their way. At once they -recognised them to be hunters by their attire and by the hawks -and dogs they had with them, and whilst they were looking at -them with attention to see if they knew them, they saw two -shepherdesses of gallant bearing and spirit come out from -among some thick bushes which were near the broken ground; -they had their faces muffled with two white linen kerchiefs, and -one of them, raising her voice, asked the hunters to stop, which -they did; and both coming up to one of them, who from his -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_144"></a>[Pg 144]</span> -bearing and figure seemed the chief of all, seized the reins of -his horse and stood awhile talking with him without the three -shepherdesses being able to hear a word of what they said, -because of the distance from the spot which prevented it. They -only saw that after they had talked with him a little while, the -horseman dismounted, and having, as far as could be judged, -bidden those who accompanied him to return, only a boy -remaining with his horse, he took the two shepherdesses by the -hands and gradually began to enter with them into a thick wood -that was there. The three shepherdesses, Galatea, Florisa, and -Teolinda, seeing this, determined to see, if they could, who the -masked shepherdesses, and the horseman who escorted them -were. And so they agreed to go round by a part of the wood, -and see if they could place themselves in some part which might -be such as to satisfy them in what they desired. And acting in -the manner they had intended, they overtook the horseman and -the shepherdesses, and Galatea, watching through the branches -what they were doing, saw that they turned to the right and -plunged into the thickest part of the wood; and straightway -they followed them in their very footsteps until the horseman -and the shepherdesses, thinking they were well within the wood, -halted in the middle of a narrow little meadow which was -surrounded by countless thickets of bramble. Galatea and her -companions came so near that without being seen or perceived, -they saw all the horseman and the shepherdesses did and said; -and when the latter had looked on all sides to see if they could -be seen by anyone, and were assured on this point, one removed -her veil, and scarcely had she done so when she was recognised -by Teolinda, who, approaching Galatea's ear, said to her in as -low a voice as she could:</p> - -<p>'This is a very strange adventure; for, unless it be that I -have lost my understanding from the grief I suffer, without any -doubt that shepherdess who has removed her veil, is the fair -Rosaura, daughter of Roselio, lord of a village near ours, and I -know not what can be the reason that has moved her to adopt -so strange a garb and to leave her district,—things which speak -so much to the detriment of her honour. But, alas, hapless one!' -added Teolinda, 'for the horseman who is with her is Grisaldo, -eldest son of rich Laurencio, who owns two villages close to this -of yours.'</p> - -<p>'You speak truth, Teolinda,' replied Galatea, 'for I know him; -but be silent and keep quiet, for we shall soon see the purpose -of his coming here.'</p> - -<p>Thereat Teolinda was still, and set herself attentively to watch -what Rosaura was doing. She, going up to the horseman, who -seemed about twenty years old, began to say to him with -troubled voice and angry countenance:</p> - -<p>'We are in a spot, faithless man, where I may take the wished<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_145"></a>[Pg 145]</span> -for vengeance for your lack of love and your neglect. But -though I took it on you in such a way that it would cost you -your life, it were little recompense for the wrong you have done -me. Here am I, unrecognised so as to recognise you, Grisaldo, -who failed to recognise my love; here is one who changed her -garb to seek for you, she who never changed her will to love -you. Consider, ungrateful and loveless one, that she who in -her own house and amongst her servants scarce could move a -step, now for your sake goes from vale to vale, and from ridge -to ridge, amidst such loneliness seeking your companionship.'</p> - -<p>To all these words the fair Rosaura was uttering, the -horseman listened with his eyes fixed on the ground, and -making lines on the earth with the point of a hunting knife he -held in his hand. But Rosaura, not content with what she had -said, pursued her discourse with words such as these:</p> - -<p>'Tell me, do you know peradventure, do you know, Grisaldo, -that I am she who not long ago dried your tears, stayed your -sighs, healed your pains, and above all, she who believed your -words? or perchance do you understand that you are he who -thought all the oaths that could be imagined feeble and of no -strength to assure me of the truth with which you deceived me? -Are you by chance, Grisaldo, he whose countless tears softened -the hardness of my pure heart? It is you, for indeed I see you, -and it is I, for indeed I know myself. But if you are the Grisaldo -of my belief, and I am Rosaura, as you think her to be, fulfil to me -the word you gave me, and I will give you the promise I have -never denied you. They have told me that you are marrying -Leopersia, Marcelio's daughter, so gladly that it is actually you -who are wooing her; if this news has caused me sorrow, can well -be seen by what I have done in coming to prevent its fulfilment, -and if you can confirm it, I leave the matter to your conscience. -What do you reply to this, mortal enemy of my peace? Do you -admit perchance, by your silence, that which it were right should -not pass even through your thought. Now raise your eyes and set -them on those that beheld you to their hurt; lift them and behold -her whom you are deceiving, whom you are abandoning and -forgetting. You will see, if you ponder it well, that you are -deceiving her who always spoke truth to you, you are abandoning -her who has abandoned her honour and herself to follow -you, you are forgetting her who never banished you from her -memory. Consider, Grisaldo, that in birth I am your equal, -that in wealth I am not your inferior, and that I excel you in -goodness of heart and in firmness of faith. Fulfil to me, sir, the -faith you gave me, if you are proud to be a gentleman, and are -not ashamed to be a Christian. Behold, if you do not respond -to what you owe me, I will pray Heaven to punish you, fire to -burn you, air to fail you, water to drown you, earth not to endure -you, and my kinsmen to avenge me! Behold, if you fail in your<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_146"></a>[Pg 146]</span> -duty towards me, you will have in me a perpetual disturber of -your joys so long as my life shall last, and even after I am dead, -if it may be, I shall with constant shadows affright your faithless -spirit, and with frightful visions torment your deceiving eyes! -Mark that I but ask what is my own, and that by giving it you -gain what you lose by refusing it! Now move your tongue to -undeceive me for the many times you have moved it to wound -me!'</p> - -<p>Saying this, the fair lady was silent, and for a short while -was waiting to see what Grisaldo replied. He, raising his face, -which up till then he had kept down, crimsoned with the shame -Rosaura's words had caused in him, with calm voice replied -to her in this wise:</p> - -<p>'If I sought to deny, oh Rosaura, that I am your debtor in -more than what you say, I would likewise deny that the sunlight -is bright, and would even say that fire is cold and air solid. So -that herein I confess what I owe you, and am obliged to pay -it; but for me to confess that I can pay you as you wish is -impossible, for my father's command has forbidden it, and your -cruel disdain has rendered it impossible. Nor do I wish to call -any other witness to this truth than yourself, as one who knows -so well how many times and with what tears I begged you to -accept me as your husband, and to deign to permit me to fulfil -the word I had given you to be it. And you, for the reasons -you fancied, or because you thought it was well to respond -to Artandro's vain promises, never wished matters to come to -such an issue; but rather went on from day to day putting me -off, and making trials of my firmness, though you could make -sure of it in every way by accepting me for your own. You also -know, Rosaura, the desire my father had to settle me in life, and -the haste he showed in the matter, bringing forward the rich -and honourable marriages you know of, and how I with a -thousand excuses held aloof from his importunities, always -telling you of them, so that you should no longer defer what -suited you so well and what I desired; and that after all this I -told you one day that my father's wish was for me to marry -Leopersia, and you, on hearing Leopersia's name, in a desperate -rage told me to speak to you no more, and that I might marry -Leopersia with your blessing, or anyone I liked better. You -know also that I urged you many times to cease those jealous -frenzies, for I was yours and not Leopersia's, and that you would -never receive my excuses, nor yield to my prayers, but rather, -persevering in your obstinacy and hardness, and in favouring -Artandro, you sent to tell me that it would give you pleasure -that I should never see you more. I did what you bade me, -and, so as to have no opportunity to transgress your bidding, -seeing also that I was fulfilling that of my father, I resolved to -marry Leopersia, or at least I shall marry her to-morrow, for so it<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_147"></a>[Pg 147]</span> -is agreed between her kinsmen and mine; wherefore you see, -Rosaura, how guiltless I am of the charge you lay against me, -and how late you have come to know the injustice with which -you treated me. But that you may not judge me henceforward -to be as ungrateful as you have pictured me in your fancy, see -if there is anything wherein I can satisfy your wish, for, so it be -not to marry you, I will hazard, to serve you, property, life and -honour.'</p> - -<p>While Grisaldo was saying these words, the fair Rosaura kept -her eyes riveted on his face, shedding through them so many -tears that they showed full well the grief she felt in her soul. -But, seeing that Grisaldo was silent, heaving a deep and woful -sigh, she said to him:</p> - -<p>'As it cannot be, oh Grisaldo, that your green years should -have a long and skilled experience of the countless accidents of -love, I do not wonder that a little disdain of mine has placed you -in the freedom you boast of; but if you knew that jealous fears are -the spurs which make love quicken his pace, you would see clearly -that those I had about Leopersia, redounded to make me love -you more. But as you made such sport of my affairs, on the -slightest pretext that you could conceive, you revealed the little -love in your breast, and confirmed my true suspicions; and in -such a way that tells me you are marrying Leopersia to-morrow. -But I assure you, before you bear her to the marriage-couch, -you must bear me to the tomb, unless, indeed, you are so cruel -as to refuse to give one to the dead body of her over whose soul -you were always absolute lord. And, that you may know clearly -and see that she who lost for you her modesty, and exposed her -honour to harm, will count it little to lose her life, this sharp -poniard which here I hold will accomplish my desperate and -honourable purpose, and will be a witness of the cruelty you -hold in that false breast of yours.'</p> - -<p>And saying this she drew from her bosom a naked dagger, -and with great haste was going to plunge it in her heart, had -not Grisaldo with greater speed seized her arm, and had not -the veiled shepherdess, her companion, hurried to close with her. -Grisaldo and the shepherdess were a long while before they -took the dagger from the hands of Rosaura, who said to -Grisaldo:</p> - -<p>'Permit me, traitorous foe, to end at once the tragedy of my -life, without your loveless disdain making me experience death -so often.'</p> - -<p>'You shall not taste of death on my account,' replied Grisaldo, -'since I would rather that my father should fail in the word he -has given to Leopersia on my behalf, than that I should fail at -all in what I know I owe you. Calm your breast, Rosaura, -since I assure you that this breast of mine can desire naught -save what may be to your happiness.'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_148"></a>[Pg 148]</span></p> - -<p>At these loving words of Grisaldo, Rosaura awakened from the -death of her sorrow to the life of her joy, and, without ceasing -to weep, knelt down before Grisaldo, begging for his hands in -token of the favour he did her. Grisaldo did the same, and -threw his arms round her neck; for a long while they remained -without power to say a word one to the other, both shedding -many loving tears. The veiled shepherdess, seeing her companion's -happy fortune, wearied by the fatigue she had sustained -in helping to take the dagger from Rosaura, being unable -to bear her veil any longer, took it off, disclosing a face so like -Teolinda's, that Galatea and Florisa were amazed to see it. But -Teolinda was more so, since, without being able to conceal it, -she raised her voice, saying:</p> - -<p>'Oh Heavens, and what is it that I see? Is not this by -chance my sister Leonarda, the disturber of my repose? She it -is without a doubt.'</p> - -<p>And, without further delay, she came out from where she was, -and with her Galatea and Florisa; and as the other shepherdess -saw Teolinda, straightway she recognised her, and with open -arms they ran one to the other, wondering to have found each -other in such a place, and at such a time and juncture. Then -Grisaldo and Rosaura, seeing what Leonarda was doing with -Teolinda, and that they had been discovered by the shepherdesses -Galatea and Florisa, arose, with no small shame that -they had been found by them in that fashion, and, drying their -tears, with reserve and courtesy received the shepherdesses, -who were at once recognised by Grisaldo. But the discreet -Galatea, in order to change into confidence the displeasure that -perchance the two loving shepherds had felt at seeing her, said -to them with that grace, with which she said everything:</p> - -<p>'Be not troubled by our coming, happy Grisaldo and Rosaura, -for it will merely serve to increase your joy, since it has been -shared with one who will always have joy in serving you. Our -fortune has ordained that we should see you, and in a part -where no part of your thoughts has been concealed from us, -and since Heaven has brought them to so happy a pass, in -satisfaction thereof calm your breasts and pardon our boldness.'</p> - -<p>'Never has your presence, fair Galatea,' replied Grisaldo, -'failed to give pleasure wherever it might be; and this truth -being so well known, we are rather under an obligation at sight -of you, than annoyed at your coming.'</p> - -<p>With these there passed some other courteous words, far -different from those that passed between Leonarda and Teolinda, -who, after having embraced once and yet again, with tender -words, mingled with loving tears, demanded the story of each -other's adventures, filling all those that were there with amazement -at seeing them, for they resembled each other so closely, that they -could almost be called not alike, but one and the same; and had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_149"></a>[Pg 149]</span> -it not been that Teolinda's dress was different from Leonarda's, -without a doubt Galatea and Florisa could not have distinguished -them; and then they saw with what reason Artidoro had been -deceived in thinking that Leonarda was Teolinda. But when -Florisa saw that the sun was about midway in the sky, and that -it would be well to seek some shade to protect them from its -rays, or at least to return to the village, since, as the opportunity -failed them to pasture their sheep, they ought not to be so long -in the meadow, she said to Teolinda and Leonarda:</p> - -<p>'There will be time, shepherdesses, when with greater ease -you can satisfy our desires, and give us a longer account of your -thoughts, and for the present let us seek where we may spend -the rigour of the noon-tide heat that threatens us, either by a -fresh spring that is at the outlet of the valley we are leaving -behind, or in returning to the village, where Leonarda will be -treated with the kindness which you, Teolinda, have experienced -from Galatea and myself. And if I make this offer only to you, -shepherdesses, it is not because I forget Grisaldo and Rosaura, -but because it seems to me that I cannot offer to their worth and -deserving more than good-will.'</p> - -<p>'This shall not be wanting in me as long as life shall last,' -replied Grisaldo, 'the will to do, shepherdess, what may be to -your service, since the kindness you show us cannot be paid -with less; but since it appears to me that it will be well to do -what you say, and because I have learnt that you are not -ignorant of what has passed between me and Rosaura, I do not -wish to waste your time or mine in referring to it, I only ask you -to be kind enough to take Rosaura in your company to your -village, whilst I prepare in mine some things which are necessary -to fulfil what our hearts desire; and in order that Rosaura -may be free from suspicion, and may never cherish suspicion of -the good faith of my intentions, with deliberate will on my -part, you being witnesses thereof, I give her my hand to be -her true husband.'</p> - -<p>And, saying this, he stretched out his hand, and took fair -Rosaura's, and she was so beside herself to see what Grisaldo -did, that she scarce could answer him a word, only she allowed -him to take her hand, and a little while after said:</p> - -<p>'Love had brought me, Grisaldo, my lord, to such a pass, -that, with less than you have done for me, I would remain for -ever your debtor; but since you have wished to have regard -rather for what you yourself are, than for my deserving, I shall do -what in me lies, which is to give you my soul anew in recompense -for this favour, and may Heaven give you the reward for so -welcome a kindness.'</p> - -<p>'No more, no more, my friends,' said Galatea at this moment, -'for where deeds are so true, excessive compliments must find -no place. What remains is to pray Heaven to lead to a happy<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_150"></a>[Pg 150]</span> -issue these beginnings, and that you may enjoy your love in a -long and beneficent peace. And as for what you say, Grisaldo, -that Rosaura should come to our village, the favour you do us -therein is so great, that we ourselves beg it of you.'</p> - -<p>'So gladly will I go in your company,' said Rosaura, 'that I -know not how to enhance it more than by telling you that I will -not much regret Grisaldo's absence, when I am in your company.'</p> - -<p>'Then come,' said Florisa, 'for the village is far away, and the -sun strong, and our delay in returning there conspicuous. You, -señor Grisaldo, can go and do what you wish, for in Galatea's -house you will find Rosaura, and these, or rather this one -shepherdess, for being so much alike, they ought not to be -called two.'</p> - -<p>'Be it as you wish,' said Grisaldo; and, he taking Rosaura -by the hand, they all went from the wood, having agreed among -themselves that Grisaldo should on the morrow send a shepherd, -from the many his father had, to tell Rosaura what she was to -do, and that this shepherd, when sent, might be able to speak to -Galatea or to Florisa without being observed, and give the -instructions that suited best. This agreement seemed good to -all, and, having come out from the wood, Grisaldo saw that his -servant was waiting for him with the horse, and embracing -Rosaura anew, and taking leave of the shepherdesses, he went -away accompanied with tears and by Rosaura's eyes, which -never left him until they lost him from sight. As the shepherdesses -were left alone, straightway Teolinda went away with -Leonarda, in the desire to learn the cause of her coming. And -Rosaura, too, as she went, related to Galatea and to Florisa -the occasion that had moved her to take a shepherdess's dress, -and to come to look for Grisaldo, saying:</p> - -<p>'It would not cause you wonder, fair shepherdesses, to see me -in this dress, if you knew how far love's mighty power extends, -which makes those who love well change not only their garb, -but will and soul, in the way that is most to its taste, and I had -lost my love for ever, had I not availed myself of the artifice of -this dress. For you must know, my friends, that, as I was in -Leonarda's village, of which my father is the lord, Grisaldo -came to it with the intention of being there some days, engaged -in the pleasing pastime of the chase; and as my father was a -great friend of his father, he arranged to receive him in the -house, and to offer him all the hospitality that he could. This -he did; and Grisaldo's coming to my house resulted in driving -me from it; for indeed, though it be at the cost of my shame, I -must tell you that the sight, the converse, and the worth of -Grisaldo made such an impression on my soul, that, without -knowing how, when he had been there a few days, I came to be -quite beside myself, and neither wished nor was able to exist -without making him master of my freedom. However, it was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_151"></a>[Pg 151]</span> -not so heedlessly but that I was first satisfied that Grisaldo's -wish did not differ in any way from mine, as he gave me to -understand with many very true tokens. I then, being convinced -of this truth, and seeing how well it pleased me to have Grisaldo -for husband, came to acquiesce in his desires, and to put mine -into effect; and so, by the mediation of a handmaiden of mine, -Grisaldo and I saw each other many times in a secluded corridor, -without our being alone extending further than for us to see each -other, and for him to give me the word, which to-day he has given -me again with more force in your presence. My sad fortune -then decreed, that at the time I was enjoying so sweet a state, -there came also to visit my father a valiant gentleman from -Aragón, who was called Artandro; he being overcome, according -to what he showed, by my beauty, if I have any, sought with the -greatest solicitude that I should marry him without my father -knowing it. Meanwhile Grisaldo had sought to carry out his -purpose, and I, showing myself somewhat harsher than was necessary, -kept putting him off with words, with the intention that my -father should set about marrying me, and that then Grisaldo -should seek me for his wife; but he did not wish to do this, -since he was aware that his father's wish was to marry him to -the rich and beauteous Leopersia, for you must know her well -by the report of her riches and beauty. This came to my knowledge, -and I took the opportunity to try to make him jealous of me, -though feignedly, merely to make trial of the sincerity of his faith; -and I was so careless, or rather so simple, that thinking I gained -something thereby, I began to show some favours to Artandro. -Grisaldo, seeing this, often declared to me the pain he felt at my -dealings with Artandro, and he even informed me that if it was -not my wish that he should fulfil to me the word he had given -me, he could not fail to obey the wish of his parents. To all -these words of warning and advice I replied unadvisedly, full of -pride and arrogance, confident that the bonds which my beauty -had cast over Grisaldo's soul could not be so easily broken, or -even touched, by any other beauty. But my confidence turned -out to be much mistaken, as Grisaldo soon showed me, who, -wearied of my foolish and scornful disdain, saw fit to leave me -and to obey his father's behest. But scarcely had he gone from -my village and left my presence, when I recognised the error -into which I had fallen, and with such force did Grisaldo's -absence and jealousy of Leopersia begin to torment me that his -absence overwhelmed me and jealousy of her consumed me. -Considering then, that, if my remedy were deferred, I must -leave my life in the hands of grief, I resolved to risk losing the -lesser, which in my opinion was reputation, in order to gain the -greater, which is Grisaldo. And so, on the pretext I gave my -father, of going to see an aunt of mine, the mistress of another -village near ours, I left my home, accompanied by many of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_152"></a>[Pg 152]</span> -my father's servants, and when I reached my aunt's house, -I disclosed to her all my secret thoughts, and asked her to -be kind enough to allow me to put on this dress and come to -speak to Grisaldo, assuring her that if I did not come myself, -my affairs would have a poor issue. She consented to this on -condition that I took with me Leonarda, as one in whom she -had much confidence. I sent for her to our village and procured -this garb, and, bearing in mind some things which we two had -to do, we took leave of her eight days ago; and, though we -came to Grisaldo's village six days ago, we have never been able -to find an opportunity of speaking to him alone, as I desired, -until this morning, when I knew he was going to the chase. I -awaited him in the same place where he took leave of us, and -there has passed between us what you, friends, have seen, at -which happy issue I am as happy as it is right she should be -who desired it so much. This, shepherdesses, is the story of -my life, and if I have wearied you in telling it you, throw the -blame on the desire you had to know it, and on mine which -could not do less than satisfy you.'</p> - -<p>'Nay, rather,' replied Florisa, 'we are so grateful for the -favour you have done us, that, though we may always busy -ourselves in your service we shall not escape from the debt.'</p> - -<p>'I am the one who remains in debt,' answered Rosaura, 'and -who will seek to repay it as my powers may allow. But, -leaving this aside, turn your eyes, shepherdesses, and you will see -those of Teolinda and Leonarda so full of tears that they will -move yours without fail to accompany them therein.'</p> - -<p>Galatea and Florisa turned to look at them, and saw that -what Rosaura said was true. What caused the weeping of the -two sisters was that after Leonarda had told her sister all that -Rosaura had related to Galatea and Florisa, she said to her:</p> - -<p>'You must know, sister, that, as you were missing from our -village, it was thought that the shepherd Artidoro had taken -you away, for that same day he too was missing without taking -leave of anyone. I confirmed this opinion in my parents, -because I told them what had passed with Artidoro in the -forest. With this evidence the suspicion increased, and my -father determined to go in search of you and of Artidoro, and -in fact would have done so had not there come to our village -two days afterwards a shepherd whom all took for Artidoro -when they saw him. When the news reached my father that -your ravisher was there, straightway he came with the constables -to where the shepherd was, and they asked him if he knew you or -where he had taken you to. The shepherd denied on oath that -he had ever seen you in all his life, or that he knew what it was -they were asking him about. All that were present wondered -to see the shepherd denying that he knew you, since he had -been ten days in the village and had spoken and danced with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_153"></a>[Pg 153]</span> -you many a time, and without any doubt all believed that -Artidoro was guilty of what was imputed to him. Without -wishing to admit his defence or to hear a word from him, they -took him to prison, where he remained without anyone speaking -to him for some days, at the end of which, when they came to -take his confession, he swore again that he did not know you, -nor in all his life had he been more than that once in that -village, and that they should consider—and this he had said at -other times—whether the Artidoro they thought he was, was -not by chance a brother of his, who resembled him so exactly -as truth would reveal when it showed them that they had -deceived themselves in taking him for Artidoro; for he was -called Galercio, son of Briseno, a native of Grisaldo's village. -And, in fact, he gave such indications and showed such proofs -that all clearly saw that he was not Artidoro, whereat they were -more amazed, saying that such a marvel as that of my likeness -to you, and Galercio's to Artidoro, had not been seen in the -world. This announcement concerning Galercio moved me to -go and see him many times where he was confined; and the -sight of him was such that I was deprived of sight, at least for -the purpose of seeing things to give me pleasure, so long as I -did not see Galercio. But the worst of it is, sister, that he went -from the village without knowing that he took with him my -freedom, nor had I the opportunity of telling it him, and so I -remained with such a grief as may be imagined, until Rosaura's -aunt sent for me for a few days, all for the purpose of coming -to accompany Rosaura; whereat I felt extreme joy, for I knew -that we were going to Galercio's village, and that there I might -make him acquainted with his debt to me. But I have been so -poor in fortune that we have been four days in his village and I -have never seen him, though I have asked for him, and they tell -me that he is in the country with his flock. I have also asked -for Artidoro, and they have told me that for some days he has -not appeared in the village; and, in order not to leave Rosaura, I -have not taken an opportunity of going to look for Galercio, from -whom it might be possible to learn news of Artidoro. This is -what has happened to me, besides what you have seen with -Grisaldo, since you have been missing, sister, from the village.'</p> - -<p>Teolinda was astonished at what her sister told her; but -when she came to know that in Artidoro's village no news was -known of him, she could not restrain her tears, though she consoled -herself in part, believing that Galercio would have news of -his brother; and so she resolved to go next day to look for -Galercio wherever he might be. And having told her sister as -briefly as she could all that had happened to her since she went in -search of Artidoro, Teolinda embraced her again and returned to -where the shepherdesses were. They were walking along a little -distance from the road, in among some trees which protected<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_154"></a>[Pg 154]</span> -them a little from the heat of the sun. Teolinda coming up -to them told them all that her sister had said to her concerning -the issue of her love, and the likeness of Galercio and Artidoro; -whereat they wondered not a little, though Galatea said:</p> - -<p>'Whoever sees the strange likeness there is between you, -Teolinda, and your sister, cannot wonder though he sees others, -since no likeness, as I believe, is equal to yours.'</p> - -<p>'There is no doubt,' replied Leonarda, 'but that the likeness -there is between Artidoro and Galercio is so great that, if it does -not surpass ours, at least it will be in no way behind it.'</p> - -<p>'May Heaven please,' said Florisa, 'that as you four resemble -one another, so may you agree and be like one another in -fortune, that which fate grants to your desires being so good that -all the world may envy your joys, as it wonders at your likenesses.'</p> - -<p>Teolinda would have replied to these words, had not a voice -they heard issuing from among the trees prevented it; and all -stopping to listen to it, they straightway recognised that it was -the voice of the shepherd Lauso, whereat Galatea and Florisa -felt great joy, for they wished very much to know of whom -Lauso was enamoured, and believed that what the shepherd -should sing would relieve them of this doubt, and for this -reason, without moving from where they were, they listened to -him in the greatest silence. The shepherd was seated at the -foot of a green willow, accompanied by his thoughts alone, and -by a little rebeck, to the sound of which he sang in this wise:</p> - -<div class="p01">L<small>AUSO.</small></div> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">If I the good within my thought confessed,</span><br /> -What good I do possess would turn to ill.<br /> -The good I feel is not to be expressed.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Even from me let my desire conceal</span><br /> -Itself, and herein let my tongue be dumb,<br /> -And let its trophy be that it is still.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let artifice stop here, nor art presume</span><br /> -To praise enow the pleasure and the balm<br /> -Which to a soul from Love's kind hand doth come.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Suffice to say that I in peaceful calm</span><br /> -Cross o'er the sea of Love, setting my trust<br /> -In noble triumph and victorious palm.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">The cause unknown, let what the cause produced</span><br /> -Be known, for 'tis a good so measureless<br /> -That for the soul alone 'tis kept in trust.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now I new being have, now life possess,</span><br /> -Now I in all the earth can win a name<br /> -For lofty glory and renowned success.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">For the pure purpose and the loving flame,</span><br /> -Which is enclosed within my loving side,<br /> -Can unto loftiest Heaven exalt my fame.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_155"></a>[Pg 155]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">In thee I hope, Silena, and confide</span><br /> -In thee, Silena, glory of my thought,<br /> -Pole-star that doth my roving fancy guide.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">I hope that, by thy peerless judgment taught,</span><br /> -Thou wilt adjudge that I in truth do merit<br /> -By faith what in deserving lieth not.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">And, shepherdess, I trust that soon thy spirit</span><br /> -Will show, when thy experience makes thee sure,<br /> -The liberty that noble breasts inherit.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">What wealth of bliss thy presence doth assure!</span><br /> -What evils doth it banish! When 'tis gone,<br /> -Who for a moment absence will endure?</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh thou that art more beauteous on thy throne</span><br /> -Than beauty's self, and more than wisdom wise,<br /> -Star to my sea, unto my eyes a sun!</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">She who in famous Crete became the prize</span><br /> -Of the false lovely bull, and bowed to Love,<br /> -Did not unto thy perfect beauty rise;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor she who felt descending from above</span><br /> -The golden rain, that turned her heart aside<br /> -(To guard her maidenhood no more she strove);</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor she whose angry ruthless hand, in pride</span><br /> -Of purity, did her chaste bosom smite,<br /> -And in her blood the piercing dagger dyed;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor she who roused to madness and despite</span><br /> -'Gainst Troy the hearts of the Achaean host,<br /> -Who gave unto destruction Ilion's height;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor she the squadrons of the Latin coast</span><br /> -Who launched irate against the Teucrian race,<br /> -Whose bitter pangs were ever Juno's boast;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">And no less she who hath a different praise</span><br /> -And trophy for the steadfast purity<br /> -Wherewith she kept her honour from disgrace;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor she who mourned her dead Sychaeus, she</span><br /> -On whom Mantuan Tityrus did cast<br /> -Reproach for fond desire and vanity;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Neither 'mongst all the fair ones that the past</span><br /> -Ages produced, nor at this present hour<br /> -Nor in the days to come find we at last;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">One who in wisdom, worth, or beauty's dower,</span><br /> -Was or is equal to my shepherdess,<br /> -Or claimeth o'er the world a sovereign's power.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ah happy he, if but the bitterness</span><br /> -Of jealousy he knew not, who by thee,<br /> -Silena, should be loved with faithfulness!</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thou who hast to this height exalted me,</span><br /> -Oh Love, with heavy hand hurl me not down<br /> -Unto oblivion's deep obscurity.<br /> -Seek thou a prince's, not a tyrant's crown.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_156"></a>[Pg 156]</span></p> - -<p>The enamoured shepherd sang no more, nor from what he -had sung could the shepherdesses come to the knowledge of -what they desired, for, though Lauso named Silena in his song, -the shepherdess was not known by this name; and so they -imagined that, as Lauso had gone through many parts of Spain, -and even of all Asia and Europe, it would be some foreign -shepherdess who had subdued his free will; but when they considered -again that they had seen him a few days before triumphing -in his freedom and making mock of lovers, they believed -beyond a doubt, that under a feigned name he was celebrating -some well-known shepherdess whom he had made mistress of -his thoughts; and so, without being satisfied in their suspicion, -they went towards the village, leaving the shepherd in the same -place where he was. But they had not gone far when they saw -coming from a distance some shepherds who were straightway -recognised, for they were Thyrsis, Damon, Elicio, Erastro, -Arsindo, Francenio, Crisio, Orompo, Daranio, Orfenio, and -Marsilio, with all the chief shepherds of the village, and among -them, the loveless Lenio with the hapless Silerio, who came to -pass the noon-tide heat at the spring of slates, in the shade -made in that place by the interwoven branches of the dense -green trees. Before the shepherds approached, Teolinda, -Leonarda and Rosaura took care each to veil herself with a -white cloth that they might not be recognised by Thyrsis and -Damon. The shepherds approached, offering courteous greetings -to the shepherdesses, inviting them to consent to spend -the noon-tide heat in their company; but Galatea excused herself -by saying that the strange shepherdesses who came with -her, must needs go to the village; therewith she took leave of -them, drawing after her the souls of Elicio and Erastro, and the -veiled shepherdesses likewise the desires of all who were there -to know them. They betook themselves to the village, and the -shepherds to the cool spring, but before they reached there, -Silerio took leave of all, asking permission to return to his -hermitage; and though Thyrsis, Damon, Elicio, and Erastro -begged him to remain with them for that day, they could not -prevail with him; nay rather he embraced them all and took -his leave, charging and begging Erastro not to fail to visit him -every time he passed by his hermitage. Erastro promised it -him, and therewith, he turned aside, and accompanied by his -constant sorrow, returned to the solitude of his hermitage, -leaving the shepherds not without grief to see the straitness of -life he had chosen when his years were yet green; but it was -felt most among those who knew him and were acquainted with -the quality and worth of his person. When the shepherds came -to the spring, they found there three gentlemen and two fair -ladies who were journeying, and being wearied with fatigue and -invited by the pleasing and cool spot, it seemed good to them<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_157"></a>[Pg 157]</span> -to leave the road they were following, and spend there the -sultry hours of the noon-tide heat. There came with them -some servants, so that they showed by their appearance that -they were persons of quality. The shepherds, when they saw -them, would have left the spot free to them; but one of the -gentlemen, who seemed the chief, seeing that the shepherds in -their courtesy wished to go to another place, said to them:</p> - -<p>'If it was by chance your pleasure, gallant shepherds, to -spend the noon-tide heat in this delightful spot, let not our -company hinder you from it, but rather do us the favour of -increasing our pleasure with your company, since your noble -disposition and manner promise no less: and, the place being, -as it is, so adapted for a greater number of people, you will -grieve me and these ladies, if you do not agree to what I ask -you in their name and mine.'</p> - -<p>'By doing, sir, what you bid us,' replied Elicio, 'we shall -fulfil our desire, which did not for the moment extend beyond -coming to this place to spend here in pleasant converse the -tedious hours of the noon-tide heat; and, though our purpose -were different, we would change it merely to do what you ask.'</p> - -<p>'I am grateful,' replied the gentleman, 'for tokens of such -good-will, and in order that I may be the more assured of it -and gratified thereby, be seated, shepherds, around this cool -spring, where with some things which these ladies have with -them for refreshment by the way, you may awake your thirst -and quench it in the cool waters this clear spring offers us.'</p> - -<p>All did so, constrained by his fair courtesy. Up to this point -the ladies had kept their faces covered with two rich veils; but, -seeing that the shepherds were remaining, they revealed themselves, -revealing a beauty so strange that it caused great -astonishment in all who saw it, for it seemed to them that after -Galatea's there could be on earth no other beauty to match it. -The two ladies were equally beautiful, though one of them, who -seemed the older, excelled the smaller one in a certain grace -and spirit. All being seated then, and at their ease, the second -gentleman, who up till then had spoken nothing, said:</p> - -<p>'When I stop to consider, amiable shepherds, the advantage your -humble shepherds' ways have over the proud ways of the courtier, -I cannot fail to have pity for myself and honourable envy of you.'</p> - -<p>'Why do you say that, friend Darinto?' said the other -gentleman.</p> - -<p>'I say it, sir,' replied the former, 'because I see with what -care you and I, and those who follow our ways, seek to adorn -our persons, to nourish our bodies, and to increase our property, -and how little it comes to profit us, since the purple, the gold, -the brocade, and our faces are faded from badly digested -victuals, eaten at odd hours, and as costly as they are wasteful, -and since they adorn us in no way, nor beautify us, nor suffice to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_158"></a>[Pg 158]</span> -make us look better in the eyes of those who behold us. And -all this you can see is different in those who follow the rustic -pursuits of the field, proving it by those you have before you, -who, it might be and even is the case, have been nourished and -are nourished on simple victuals, in every way different from the -wasteful composition of ours. And, besides, see the tan of their -faces, which promises a state of health more perfect than the -sickly pallor of ours, and how well a jerkin of white wool, a grey -bonnet and some gaiters of whatsoever colour suit their robust -and supple limbs; whereby they must appear more handsome -in the eyes of their shepherdesses, than gay courtiers in -those of modest ladies. What could I say to you, then, if I -were minded, of the simplicity of their life, the sincerity of their -character, and the purity of their love? I say no more to you, -save that what I know of the shepherd's life has such power -with me, that gladly would I exchange mine for it.'</p> - -<p>'We shepherds are all indebted to you,' said Elicio, 'for the -good opinion you have of us, but nevertheless I can tell you that -in our country life there are as many slippery places and toils -as are contained in your courtier's life.'</p> - -<p>'I cannot but agree with what you say,' replied Darinto, -'for indeed it is well known that our life on earth is a war; but -after all in the shepherd's life there is less of it than in that of -the town, for it is more free from causes that may move and -disquiet the spirit.'</p> - -<p>'How well agrees with your opinion, Darinto,' said Damon, -'that of a shepherd friend of mine, called Lauso, who, after -having spent some years in a courtier's pursuits, and some -others in the toilsome pursuits of cruel Mars, has at last been -brought to the poverty of our country life, and before he came -to it, he showed that he much desired it, as appears by a song -he composed and sent to the famous Larsileo, who has a long -and practised experience in affairs of the court; and, because -I saw fit to do so, I committed it all to memory, and would even -repeat it to you, if I thought that time would permit it, and that -it would not weary you to listen to it.'</p> - -<p>'Nothing will give us greater pleasure than to listen to you, -discreet Damon,' replied Darinto, calling Damon by his name, -for he already knew it from having heard the other shepherds, -his friends, name him; 'and so I for my part beg you to repeat -to us Lauso's song, for since it is composed, as you say, to suit -my case, and you have committed it to memory, it will be -impossible for it not to be good.'</p> - -<p>Damon began to repent of what he had said, and sought to -escape from his promise; but the gentlemen and ladies and all -the shepherds begged it of him so much, that he could not -escape repeating it. And so, having composed himself a little, -with admirable grace and charm he spoke in this wise:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_159"></a>[Pg 159]</span></p> - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON</small>.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">The idle fancies that our minds do weave,</span><br /> -Which hither and thither are buffeted<br /> -In rapid flight by every wind that blows;<br /> -Man's feeble heart, ever inclined to grieve,<br /> -Set upon pleasures that are doomed to fade,<br /> -Wherein it seeks, but findeth not, repose;<br /> -The world that never knows<br /> -The truth, the promiser of joyous pleasures;<br /> -Its siren voice, whose word<br /> -Is scarcely overheard,<br /> -When it transforms its pleasures to displeasures;<br /> -Babylon, chaos, seen and read by me<br /> -In everything I see;<br /> -The mood the careful courtier doth command—<br /> -Have set, in unity<br /> -With my desire, the pen within my hand.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">I would my rude ill-shapen quill might rise,</span><br /> -My lord, though brief and feeble be its flight,<br /> -Unto the realms that my desire doth gain,<br /> -So that the task of raising to the skies<br /> -Thy goodness rare and virtue ever bright<br /> -It might essay, and thus its wish attain.<br /> -But who is there that fain<br /> -Would on his shoulders cast so great a burden,<br /> -Unless he is a new<br /> -Atlas, in strength so true,<br /> -That Heaven doth little weary him or burden?<br /> -And even he the load will be compelled<br /> -To shift, that he has held,<br /> -On to the arms of a new Hercules,<br /> -And yet such toil beheld,<br /> -Although he bow and sweat, I count but ease.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">But since 'tis to my strength impossible,</span><br /> -And but an empty wish I give to prove<br /> -All that my loyal fancy doth conceal,<br /> -Let us consider if 'tis possible<br /> -My feeble ill-contented hand to move,<br /> -And some vague sign of joy thereby reveal;<br /> -Herein my power I feel<br /> -So powerless, that thou thine ears must lend,<br /> -And to the bitter groans<br /> -And agonising moans<br /> -That issue from a breast despised, attend;<br /> -Upon that breast fire, air, and earth, and sea<br /> -Make war unceasingly,<br /> -Conspiring all together for its pain,<br /> -Which its sad destiny<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160"></a>[Pg 160]</span>Doth bound, and its small fortune doth contain.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Were this not so in truth, an easy thing</span><br /> -It were through pleasure's realm one's steps to bend,<br /> -And countless pleasures to the mind restore,<br /> -The mountain, strand, or river picturing.<br /> -Not Love, but fortune, fate and chance did lend<br /> -Their wealth of glory to a shepherd poor:<br /> -But Time a triumph o'er<br /> -This sweet tale claims, and of it doth remain<br /> -Alone a feeble shadow,<br /> -Which doth the thought o'ershadow<br /> -That thinks on it the more, and fills with pain.<br /> -Such is the fitting plight of all mankind!<br /> -The pleasure we designed<br /> -In a few hours is changed to sore displeasure,<br /> -And no one will e'er shall find<br /> -In many years a firm and lasting pleasure.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now let the idle thought revolve on high,</span><br /> -Let it ascend or descend to the abyss,<br /> -And in a moment run from east to west,<br /> -'Twill say, however much it sweat and ply<br /> -Its strength, escaping from its miseries,<br /> -Set in dread hell, or Heaven loftiest:<br /> -"Oh thrice and four times blest<br /> -And blest and blest again with happiness,<br /> -The simple herdsman who,<br /> -With his poor sheep and few,<br /> -Liveth with more content and peacefulness<br /> -Than Crassus rich or Midas in his greed,<br /> -Since the life he doth lead,<br /> -A shepherd's life, of healthy simple powers,<br /> -Doth make him take no heed<br /> -Of this false, wretched, courtly life of ours."</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Beside the trunk that Vulcan's flame dissolves,</span><br /> -Of sturdy oak, he seeks himself to warm,<br /> -Amidst the might of winter's bristling cold,<br /> -And there in peace a clear account resolves<br /> -To give of life to Heaven, and how from harm<br /> -To keep his flock, he doth discussion hold.<br /> -And when away hath rolled<br /> -The hard and barren frost, when it doth shrink,<br /> -When he who had his birth<br /> -In Delos, doth the earth<br /> -And air inflame, then, on some river's brink,<br /> -Of willows green and elms its canopy,<br /> -In rustic harmony<br /> -He sounds the shrilly fife, or lifts his voice:<br /> -Then truly one doth see<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_161"></a>[Pg 161]</span>The waters stop to listen and rejoice,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">He is not wearied by the solemn face</span><br /> -Of one in favour, who doth bear the port<br /> -Of governor, where he is not obeyed,<br /> -Nor by the sweetly uttered lofty praise<br /> -Of the false flatterer, who in absence short,<br /> -Views, leaders, parties, changeth undismayed.<br /> -Of the disdain displayed<br /> -By the wise secretary, of his pride<br /> -Who bears the golden key,<br /> -But little recketh he,<br /> -Nor of the league of divers chiefs allied.<br /> -Not for a moment from his flock he goes,<br /> -Because the angry blows<br /> -Of frenzied Mars on either side may sound,<br /> -Who doth such skill disclose<br /> -That e'en his followers scarce have profit found.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Within a circle small his footsteps wend</span><br /> -From the high mountain to the peaceful plain,<br /> -To the clear river from the fountain cold.<br /> -Nor doth he plough, in madness without end,<br /> -The heaving meadows of the ocean main,<br /> -Desiring distant countries to behold.<br /> -It doth not make him bold<br /> -To learn that close beside his village lives<br /> -The great unconquered king,<br /> -Whose weal is everything,<br /> -Yet not to see him small displeasure gives.<br /> -No ambitious busy-body he, beside<br /> -Himself, who without pride<br /> -Runs after favour, and a favourite's power,<br /> -Though never hath he dyed<br /> -His sword or lance in blood of Turk or Moor.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Tis not for him to change or face or hue</span><br /> -Because the lord he serveth changeth face<br /> -Or hue, since he no lord hath to constrain<br /> -Him with mute tongue to follow and pursue—<br /> -As Clytie did her golden lover chase—<br /> -The sweet or bitter pleasure he may gain.<br /> -Nor doth he share the pain<br /> -Of fearing that an idle, careless thought<br /> -Within the thankless breast<br /> -Of his lord may at last<br /> -The memory of his loyal service blot,<br /> -And thus be his the doom of banishment;<br /> -His mien doth not present<br /> -Other than what his healthy breast doth hold;<br /> -Our ways, with falsehood blent,<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_162"></a>[Pg 162]</span> -Do not compete with rustic knowledge old.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who such a life as this will hold in scorn?</span><br /> -Who will not say that this is life alone,<br /> -Which hath the comfort of the soul pursued?<br /> -A courtier may in loathing from it turn.<br /> -This makes its goodness unto him be known<br /> -Who hath the good desired, the ill eschewed:<br /> -Oh life of solitude,<br /> -Wherein one doth his crowded joys refine!<br /> -Oh pastoral lowliness,<br /> -Higher than loftiness<br /> -Of the most lofty and exalted line!<br /> -Oh shady woodland, flowers whose fragrance fills<br /> -The air, pellucid rills!<br /> -I for a moment brief could taste your bliss,<br /> -But that my constant ills<br /> -Soon would disturb so fair a life as this!</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Song, thou dost go to where thy poverty,</span><br /> -To where thy wealth will all too soon be seen,<br /> -Say thou with prayerful mien<br /> -And humble, if but breath be given thee;<br /> -"Lord, pardon! he who sends me to thy side,<br /> -In thee and in his wishes doth confide."</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">'This, gentlemen, is Lauso's song,' said Damon on finishing -it; 'which was as much extolled by Larsileo as it was well -received by those who saw it at the time.'</p> - -<p>'With reason you can say so,' replied Darinto, 'since its -truth and workmanship are worthy of just praises.'</p> - -<p>'These are the songs to my taste,' said the loveless Lenio at -this moment, 'and not those which every instant come to my -ears, full of a thousand simple amorous conceits, so badly -arranged and involved, that I will venture to swear that there -are some, which neither the hearer, however discreet he be, can -comprehend, nor the composer understand. But no less wearisome -are others, which entangle themselves in giving praises to -Cupid, and in exaggerating his powers, his worth, his wonders -and miracles, making him lord of Heaven and earth, giving him -a thousand other attributes of might, dominion and lordship; -and what wearies me more than those who make them, is that, -when they speak of love, they mean a someone undefined, -whom they call Cupid, the very meaning of whose name -declares to us what he is, namely a vain and sensual appetite, -worthy of all reproof.'</p> - -<p>The loveless Lenio spoke, and indeed he was certain to end in, -speaking ill of love; but as nearly all who were there knew his -disposition, they did not give much heed to his reasonings, -except Erastro, who said to him:</p> - -<p>'Do you think, Lenio, by chance, that you are always speak<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_163"></a>[Pg 163]</span>ing -to a simple Erastro, who cannot contradict your opinions, or -reply to your arguments? Then I wish to warn you that it will be -wise for you to be silent for the present, or at least to discuss -other matters than speaking ill of love, unless indeed you would -have Thyrsis's and Damon's discretion and learning restoring -your sight, from the blindness in which you are, and showing -you clearly what they understand, and what you should understand, -of love and of its affairs.'</p> - -<p>'What will they be able to tell me that I do not know?' said -Lenio, 'or what shall I be able to reply to them but what they -are ignorant of?'</p> - -<p>'This is pride, Lenio,' replied Elicio, 'and therein you show -how far you go from the path of love's truth, and that you guide -yourself more by the pole-star of your opinion and fancy, than -by that whereby you should be guided, namely that of truth and -experience.'</p> - -<p>'Nay rather by reason of the great experience I have of its -works,' replied Lenio, 'am I as opposed to it as I show, and -shall show so long as my life shall last.'</p> - -<p>'On what do you base your reasoning?' said Thyrsis.</p> - -<p>'On what, shepherd?' answered Lenio; 'on this, that by the -effects they have I know how evil is the cause that produces -them.'</p> - -<p>'What are the effects of love that you count so evil?' replied -Thyrsis.</p> - -<p>'I will tell you them, if you listen to me with attention,' said -Lenio; 'but I would not have my discourse weary the ears of -those who are present, since they can spend the time in different -and more pleasurable converse.'</p> - -<p>'There will be nothing that could be more so to us,' said -Darinto, 'than to hear a discussion of this topic, especially -between persons who will know so well how to defend their -opinion: and so for my part, if these shepherds on theirs do not -hinder it, I beg you, Lenio, to continue the discourse you have -begun.'</p> - -<p>'That will I do readily,' answered Lenio, 'for I think I shall -show clearly therein what a strong reason compels me to follow -the opinion I do follow, and to blame any other that may be -opposed to mine.'</p> - -<p>'Begin then, oh Lenio,' said Damon, 'for you will not hold -it longer than my companion Thyrsis will take to explain his.'</p> - -<p>At this moment, whilst Lenio was preparing to utter his -reproofs against love, there came to the spring the venerable -Aurelio, Galatea's father, with some shepherds, and with him -came also Galatea and Florisa, with the three veiled shepherdesses, -Rosaura, Teolinda, and Leonarda, whom he had met at -the entrance of the village, and, learning from them of the -gathering of shepherds there was at the spring of slates, caused<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_164"></a>[Pg 164]</span> -to turn back at his request, the strange shepherdesses trusting -that by reason of their veils they would not be recognised by -anyone. All rose to receive Aurelio and the shepherdesses, -these latter seating themselves by the ladies, Aurelio and the -shepherds by the other shepherds. But when the ladies saw -Galatea's remarkable beauty, they were so astonished that they -could not keep their eyes from looking at her. Nor was -Galatea less so at their beauty, especially at that of her who -seemed the older. There passed between them some words of -courtesy, but everything ceased when they learnt what was -agreed between the discreet Thyrsis and the loveless Lenio; -whereat the venerable Aurelio was infinitely rejoiced, for he -desired very much to see that assembly, and to hear that discussion, -and all the more when Lenio would have someone who -could answer him so well; and so, without waiting further, -Lenio, seating himself on the trunk of a felled elm-tree, in a -voice at first low, and then full-sounding, began to speak in this -wise:</p> - -<p>L<small>ENIO.</small> 'Already I almost guess, worthy and discreet company, -how even now in your understanding you are judging me -as bold and rash, since with the little intellect and less experience -which the rustic life, in which I have been nurtured for some -time, can promise, I am willing to hold a contest in a matter so -difficult as this with the famous Thyrsis, whose nurture in -famous academies, and whose profound studies, can assure -naught to my pretensions save certain failure. But confident that -at times the force of natural genius, adorned with some little -experience, is wont to discover new paths with which one makes -easy sciences acquired during long years, I wish to make bold -to-day to show in public the reasons which have moved me to be -such an enemy to love, that I had deserved thereby to gain the -appellation of loveless; and though nothing else would have -moved me to do this, save your behest, I would not excuse -myself from doing it; all the more that the glory will not be -slight which I have to gain hereby, though I should lose in the -enterprise, since after all fame will say that I had the spirit to -compete with the renowned Thyrsis. And so on this understanding, -without wishing to be favoured except by the reason -that I have on my side, it alone do I invoke and pray to give -such strength to my words and arguments that there may -appear in both of them the reason I have for being such an -enemy to love as I proclaim. Love, then, as I have heard my -elders say, is a desire for beauty; and this definition, amongst -many others, those give it that have advanced farthest in this -question. Then, if it be granted me, that love is desire for -beauty, it must necessarily be granted me that such as is -the beauty which is loved, will be the love with which it is loved. -And because beauty is of two kinds, corporeal and incorporeal,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_165"></a>[Pg 165]</span> -the love which loves corporeal beauty for its ultimate goal, such -a love as this cannot be good, and this is the love whose enemy -I am; but as corporeal beauty is divided likewise into two parts, -namely into living bodies and dead bodies, there can also be a -love of corporeal beauty which may be good. The one part of -corporeal beauty is shown in living bodies of men and women, -and this consists in all the parts of the body being good in -themselves, and all together making one perfect whole, and -forming a body proportioned in limbs and in pleasantness of -hue. The other beauty of the corporeal part which is not alive, -consists in pictures, statues and buildings; which beauty can be -loved without the love with which it is loved being blameworthy. -Incorporeal beauty is divided also into two parts, the virtues -and the sciences of the soul; and the love which cleaves to -virtue must necessarily be good, and likewise that which -cleaves to virtuous sciences and agreeable studies. Then, -as these two kinds of beauty are the cause which begets -love in our breasts, it follows that whether love be good or bad, -depends upon loving the one or the other: but, as incorporeal -beauty is viewed with the pure and clear eyes of the understanding, -and corporeal beauty is regarded with the corporeal eyes, -clouded and blind, in comparison with the incorporeal, and as -the eyes of the body are quicker to regard the present corporeal -beauty which pleases, than those of the understanding to view -the absent incorporeal beauty which glorifies, it follows that -mortals more usually love the fading and mortal beauty which -destroys them than the rare and divine beauty which makes -them better. Then from this love, or from desiring corporeal -beauty, have arisen, arise, and will arise in the world desolation -of cities, ruin of states, destruction of empires, and deaths of -friends; and when this, as is generally the case, does not -happen, what greater woes, what more grievous torments, what -fire, what jealousy, what pains, what deaths, can the human -understanding imagine which can be compared to those the -wretched lover suffers? And the cause of this is that, as the -lover's whole happiness depends upon enjoying the beauty he -desires, and this beauty cannot be possessed and enjoyed fully, -that inability to reach the goal which is desired, begets in him -sighs, tears, complaints, and dejection. It is manifest and clear -then that it is true that the beauty of which I speak, cannot be -enjoyed perfectly and fully, because it is not in the power of -man to enjoy completely a thing which is outside of him and -not wholly his; because external things, it is well known, are -always under the control of that which we call fortune or chance, -and not in the power of our free-will, and so it results that where -there is love there is sorrow; and he who would deny this, would -likewise deny that the sun is bright and that fire burns. But -that we may come the more easily to the knowledge of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_166"></a>[Pg 166]</span> -bitterness that love contains, the truth I follow will be clearly -seen by running over the passions of the mind. The passions -of the mind, as you know best, discreet gentlemen and -shepherds, are four universal ones, and no more. Immoderate -desire, much joy, great fear for future miseries, great -sorrow for present calamities; these passions, being, as it were, -contrary winds which disturb the tranquillity of the soul, -are called by a more appropriate term disturbances; and of -these disturbances the first is proper to love, since love is -nothing else save desire; and so desire is the beginning and -origin of all our passions, from which they issue as every stream -from its source. Hence it comes that every time desire for -something is kindled in our hearts, straightway it moves us to -follow it and seek it, and in seeking it and following it, it leads -us to a thousand disordered ends. This desire it is which -incites the brother to seek his beloved sister's abominable -embraces, the stepmother her step-son's, and what is worst, the -very father his own daughter's; this desire it is that bears our -thoughts to grievous perils. Nor does it avail that we oppose it -with the reason, for, though we clearly recognise our hurt, we -cannot, on that account, withdraw from it; and love does not -content itself with keeping us intent on one wish, but rather, as -from the desire of things all the passions arise, as has already -been said, so from the first desire that arises in us, a thousand -others are derived; and these are in lovers no less various than -infinite, and though they well-nigh always look to one goal only, -yet, as the objects are various, and various the fortune of those -in love with each, without any doubt desire takes various forms. -There are some who, to reach the attainment of what they -desire, put all their strength on one course, in which, alas, what -great hardships are encountered, how often they fall, what sharp -thorns torture their feet, and how often strength and breath are -lost before they attain what they seek! There are some others -who are possessors of the thing beloved, and neither desire nor -think of aught else save to remain in that state, and, having -their thoughts busied about this alone, and on this alone spending -all their toil and time, are wretched amidst happiness, poor -amidst wealth, and unfortunate amidst good fortune. Others -who are no longer in possession of their treasure, seek to return -to it, employing for the purpose a thousand prayers, a thousand -promises, a thousand conditions, countless tears, and at last, -busying themselves with these woes, they bring themselves to -the pass of losing their life. But these torments are not seen at -the entry of the first desires, for then deceitful love shows us a -path whereby we may enter, in appearance broad and spacious, -which afterwards gradually closes in in such a manner that no -way offers itself to return or go forward; and so the wretched -lovers, deceived and betrayed by a sweet and false smile, by a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_167"></a>[Pg 167]</span> -mere turn of the eye, by two stammered words which beget in -their breasts a false and feeble hope, dash straightway to go -after it, goaded by desire, and afterwards, in a short space and -in a few days, finding the path of their cure closed, and the way -of their pleasure obstructed, turn to bedew their faces with -tears, to disturb the air with sighs, to weary the ears with woeful -complaints; and the worst is, that if perchance with their tears, -their sighs, and their complaints they cannot come to the goal of -their desire, straightway they change their manner and seek to -attain by bad means what they cannot by good. Hence arise -hatreds, angers, deaths as well of friends as of enemies. For this -cause it has been seen and is seen at every moment that tender -and delicate women set themselves to do things so strange and -rash that even to imagine them inspires terror. Therefore the -holy marriage-bed is seen bathed in crimson blood, now of the -sad unheeding wife, now of the incautious and careless husband. -To come to the goal of this desire brother is traitor to brother, -father to son, and friend to friend. It originates feuds, -tramples on respect, transgresses laws, forgets duties, and -seduces kinswomen. But in order that it may be clearly seen -how great the misery of lovers is, it is already known that no -appetite has such strength in us, nor carries us with such force -to the object in view as that which is urged on by the spurs of -love. Hence it comes that no happiness or contentment passes -so much beyond the due bounds as that of the lover when he -comes to attain any one of the things he desires; and this is -evident, for what person of judgment will there be, save the -lover, who will reckon his highest joy a touch of his mistress's -hand, a little ring of hers, a short loving glance, and other -similar things of as small account as a dispassionate understanding -holds them? And not by reason of these abundant -pleasures which lovers in their judgment gain, must it be said -that they are happy and fortunate; for there is no contentment -of theirs that does not come accompanied by innumerable -displeasures and disgusts, wherewith love dilutes them and -disturbs them, and never did amorous glory reach the pitch -reached and attained by pain. So evil is the happiness of lovers -that it draws them out of themselves, making them careless and -foolish; for, as they set their whole intent and strength to -maintain themselves in that pleasant state they fancy themselves -to be in, they neglect everything else, whereby no small harm -overtakes them, as well of property, as of honour and life. -Then, in exchange for what I have said, they even make themselves -slaves of a thousand pangs, and enemies of themselves. -What then, when it happens that, in the midst of the course of -their pleasures, the cold steel of the heavy lance of jealousy -touches them? Then the sky is darkened for them, the air is -disturbed, and all the elements turn against them. Then they<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168"></a>[Pg 168]</span> -have nothing from which to hope for contentment, since the -attainment of the end they desire cannot give it them. Then -appear ceaseless dread, unfailing despair, sharp suspicions, -varying thoughts, care without gain, false laughter and true -sorrow, with a thousand other strange and terrible sensations -which consume them and affright them. All the actions of the -beloved object distress them, if she looks, if she laughs, if she -turns away or comes back, if she is silent, if she speaks; and in -a word all the graces that moved him to love well, are the very -ones which torture the jealous lover. And who does not know -that if fortune does not favour with full hands the beginnings of -love and with speedy diligence lead them to a sweet end, how -costly to the lover are any other means the luckless one employs -to attain his purpose? What tears he sheds, what sighs he -scatters, how many letters he writes, how many nights he does -not sleep, how many and what contrary thoughts assail him, -how many suspicions distress him and fears surprise him? Is -there by chance a Tantalus who feels more distress, set between -the waters and the apple-tree, than that which the wretched -lover feels placed between fear and hope? The services of the -lover out of favour are the pitchers of Danaus's daughters, -drained so fruitlessly that they never come to attain the least -part of their purpose. Is there eagle that so destroys the bowels -of Tityus as jealousy destroys and gnaws those of the jealous -lover? Is there rock that weighs down so much the shoulders -of Sisyphus as love unceasingly weighs down the thoughts of -those in love? Is there wheel of Ixion that more quickly turns -and torments than the quick varying fancies of irresolute lovers? -Is there a Minos or Rhadamanthus who so punishes and -oppresses the luckless condemned souls as love punishes and -oppresses the loving breast which is subject to his unendurable -power? There is not a cruel Megæra, nor raging Tisiphone, -nor avenging Alecto, who so illtreat the soul in which they -enclose themselves, as this fury, this desire, illtreats those hapless -ones who recognise it as lord, and bow before it as vassals, -who, to give some excuse for the follies they commit, say—or at -least the ancient heathens said—that that instinct which incites -and moves the lover to love another's life more than his own, -was a god, to whom they gave the name of Cupid, and so, being -constrained by his godhead, they could not fail to follow and go -after what he willed. They were moved to say this, and to give -the name of god to this desire by seeing the supernatural effects -it produces in lovers. Without doubt it seems a supernatural -thing for a lover at the same moment to be timorous and confident, -to burn away from his beloved and grow cold when -nearer her, to be dumb when speaking much, and speaking -much when dumb. It is likewise a strange thing to follow one -who shuns me, to praise one who reproaches me, to utter words<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_169"></a>[Pg 169]</span> -to one who does not listen to me, to serve an ungrateful one, -and to hope in one who never promises nor can give aught that -is good. Oh bitter sweetness, oh poisonous medicine of sick -lovers, oh sad joy, oh flower of love, that dost indicate no fruit, -save that of tardy repentance! These are the effects of this -fancied god, these are his deeds and wondrous works; and -indeed it can also be seen in the picture by which they represented -this vain god of theirs, how vainly they acted; they -painted him as a boy, naked, winged, his eyes bandaged, with -bow and arrows in his hands, to give us to understand, amongst -other things, that, when a man is in love, he assumes again the -character of a simple and capricious boy, who is blind in his -aims, light in his thoughts, cruel in his deeds, naked and poor -in the riches of the understanding. They said likewise that -amongst his arrows he had two, the one of lead and the other -of gold, with which he produced different effects; for the leaden -one begot hatred in the breasts it touched, and the golden one -increase of love in those it wounded, merely to tell us that it is -rich gold that causes love, and poor lead abhorrence. And for -this reason poets do not sing in vain of Atalanta vanquished by -three lovely golden apples; and of fair Danae, made pregnant -by the golden rain; and of pious Æneas descending to hell -with the golden branch in his hand; in a word, gold and gifts -are one of the strongest arrows which love has; and the one -with which he subdues most hearts; quite the contrary to the -one of lead, a metal low and despised, as poverty is, which -rather begets hatred and abhorrence where it comes, than any -kind of benevolence. But if the reasons spoken by me so far do -not suffice to persuade you of the reason I have for being on -bad terms with this treacherous love, which I am discussing -to-day, observe its effects in some true examples from the past, -and you will see, as I see, that he who does not attain to the -truth I follow does not see nor has he eyes of understanding. -Let us see then—what but this love is it which made righteous -Lot break his chaste purpose and violate his own daughters? -This it is without doubt that made the chosen David be an -adulterer and a murderer; that forced the lustful Ammon to -seek the infamous embraces of Tamar, his beloved sister; that -placed the head of mighty Samson in the traitorous lap of -Delilah, whereby he lost his strength, his people lost their protection, -and at last he and many others their lives. This it was -that moved Herod's tongue to promise to the dancing girl the -head of the Fore-runner of Life; this makes one doubt of the -salvation of the wisest and richest king of kings, and even of all -mankind. This brought down the strong arms of famous Hercules, -accustomed to wield the weighty club, to turn a tiny -spindle and to busy themselves in feminine tasks. This made -the raging and loving Medea scatter through the air the tender<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_170"></a>[Pg 170]</span> -limbs of her little brother; this cut out the tongue of Procne, -Arachne and Hippolytus, made Pasiphae infamous, destroyed -Troy, and slew Ægisthus. This caused the works of new -Carthage once begun to be stayed, and her first queen to pierce -her chaste breast with a sharp sword. This placed in the hands -of the fair and famous Sophonisba, the vial of deadly poison -which ended her life. This robbed valiant Turnus of life, -Tarquin of kingdom, Mark Antony of power, and his mistress -of life and honour. This finally handed our Spain over to the -barbarous fury of the children of Hagar, called to avenge the -disordered love of the wretched Roderick. But, because I think -that night will cover us with its shade before I finish bringing to -your memory the examples that offer themselves to mine, of the -exploits that love has performed, and is performing every day in -the world, I do not wish to go on with them, nor yet with the discourse -I have begun, in order to give an opportunity for the famous -Thyrsis to reply to me, begging you first, gentlemen, not to be -wearied by hearing a song which I composed some days ago in -reproach of this my foe. If I remember rightly, it runs in this way:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">No fear have I before the frost and fire,</span><br /> -The bow and arrows of the tyrant Love,<br /> -And so I needs must sing in his dispraise;<br /> -For who shall fear a blind boy whose desire<br /> -Varies, whose judgment doth inconstant rove,<br /> -Although he threaten wounds and sad decays?<br /> -My pleasure doth increase, his worth decays,<br /> -When I employ my tongue<br /> -To utter the true song<br /> -Which in reproach of Love himself I form,<br /> -So rich in truth, in manner, and in form,<br /> -That unto all Love's malice it reveals,<br /> -And clearly doth inform<br /> -The world of the sure hurt that Love conceals.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Love is a fire that burns the soul within,</span><br /> -A frost that freezes; dart that opes the breast,<br /> -Which heedeth not its cunning manifold;<br /> -A troubled sea where calm hath ne'er been seen;<br /> -Wrath's minister; enemy manifest,<br /> -In guise of friend; father of dismay cold;<br /> -Giver of scanty good and ill untold;<br /> -Caressing; full of lies;<br /> -Fierce in his tyrannies;<br /> -A traitorous Circe that transforms us all<br /> -To divers monstrous shapes fantastical<br /> -Wherefrom no power of man can us restore,<br /> -Though quickly at our call<br /> -Comes reason's light, to what we were before,</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_171"></a>[Pg 171]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">A yoke that doth the proudest neck abase;</span><br /> -A mark to which desires of slothful ease,<br /> -Born without reason, go as to their goal;<br /> -A treacherous net, which men of highest place<br /> -Amidst their foul and unclean sins doth seize<br /> -And doth within its subtle mesh enthrall;<br /> -A pleasing ill that tempts the senses all;<br /> -Poison in guise of pill,<br /> -Gilded, but poison still;<br /> -A bolt that burns and cleaves where it descendeth;<br /> -An angry arm that traitorously offendeth;<br /> -Headsman that dooms the thought which captive lies,<br /> -Or which itself defendeth<br /> -From the sweet charm of his false fantasies;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">A hurt that doth in the beginning please,</span><br /> -When on an object which doth seem as fair<br /> -As the fair heavens above, the sight doth feast—<br /> -And yet the more it looks with yearning gaze,<br /> -The more the heart doth suffer everywhere,<br /> -The heart that is with anguish sore distressed—<br /> -Dumb speaker; chatterer with dumbness oppressed;<br /> -A wise man babbling folly;<br /> -Ruin that slayeth wholly;<br /> -The life which joyous harmony doth fill;<br /> -Shadow of good that is transformed to ill;<br /> -A flight that raiseth us to Heaven on high,<br /> -Only that grief may still<br /> -Live after we have fallen, and pleasure die;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">A thief unseen that doth destroy us quite,</span><br /> -And robs us of our wealth with ruthless hand,<br /> -Carrying our souls away at every hour;<br /> -A speed that overtakes the quickest flight;<br /> -A riddle none there is to understand;<br /> -A life that always is in peril sore;<br /> -A chosen, and, withal, a chance-born war;<br /> -A truce that is but brief;<br /> -Beloved, luckless grief;<br /> -Promise that never doth to fruitage come;<br /> -Illness that makes within the soul its home;<br /> -Coward that upon evil rusheth bold;<br /> -Debtor that doth the sum<br /> -He owes, which is our due, ever withhold;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">A labyrinth wherein is nestling found</span><br /> -A fierce wild beast that doth itself sustain<br /> -On the surrendered hearts of all mankind;<br /> -A bond wherewith the lives of all are bound;<br /> -A lord that from his steward seeks to gain<br /> -Account of deed and word, and of his mind;<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_172"></a>[Pg 172]</span> -Greed, unto countless varied aims inclined;<br /> -A worm that builds a house,<br /> -Wretched or beauteous,<br /> -Where for a little while it dwells and dies;<br /> -A sigh that never knows for what it sighs;<br /> -A cloud that darkens all our faculties;<br /> -A knife that wounds us—this<br /> -Is Love, him follow, if ye think it wise.'</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">With this song the loveless Lenio ended his reasoning, -leaving some of those that were present full of wonder at both, -especially the gentlemen, for it seemed to them that what Lenio -had said seemed of more worth than was usual with a shepherd's -intellect. And with great desire and attention they were awaiting -Thyrsis's reply, all promising themselves in fancy that it would -without any doubt excel Lenio's, for Thyrsis exceeded him in age -and experience, and in the studies most generally pursued, and -this likewise reassured them, for they desired that Lenio's loveless -opinion should not prevail. It is indeed true that the hapless -Teolinda, the loving Leonarda, the fair Rosaura, and even the -lady who came with Darinto and his companion, clearly saw -depicted in Lenio's discourse a thousand points of the course of -their loves; and this was when he came to treat of tears and -sighs, and of how dearly the joys of love were bought. Only -the fair Galatea and the discreet Florisa did not count in this, -for up till then love had not taken count of their fair rebellious -breasts, and so they were eager only to hear the acuteness with -which the two famous shepherds disputed, without seeing in -their free will any of the effects of love they were hearing of. -But Thyrsis's will being to reduce to better limits the loveless -shepherds opinion, without waiting to be asked, the minds of -the bystanders hanging on his lips, he set himself in front of -Lenio, and with agreeable and elevated tone began to speak in -this wise:</p> - -<p>T<small>HYRSIS.</small> 'If the acuteness of your fair intellect, loveless -shepherd, did not assure me that with ease it can attain the -truth, from which it finds itself so far at present, rather than put -myself to the trouble of contradicting your opinion, I would -leave you in it, as a punishment for your unjust words. But -because those you have uttered in blame of love show me the -good germs you possess by which you may be brought to a -better purpose, I do not wish by my silence to leave those who -hear us scandalised, love despised, and you pertinacious and -vainglorious; and so, being aided by Love on whom I call, I -think in a few words to show how different are his works and -effects from those you have declared about him, speaking only -of the love you mean, which you defined when you said that it -was a desire for beauty, and likewise declared what beauty was,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_173"></a>[Pg 173]</span> -and a little later you closely examined all the effects which the -love of which you speak produced in loving breasts, finally -strengthening your views with various unhappy events caused -by love. And though the definition you made of love may be -the one most generally given, yet it is not so much so but that -it may be contradicted; for love and desire are two different -things, since not everything that is loved is desired, nor everything -that is desired loved. The reasoning is clear in the case of -all things that are possessed, for then it cannot be said that they -are desired, but that they are loved: thus, he who has health will -not say that he desires health, but that he loves it; and he who -has children cannot say that he desires children, but that he -loves his children; nor yet can it be said of the things that are -desired that they are loved, as of the death of enemies, which is -desired and not loved. And so for this reason love and desire -come to be different passions of the will. The truth is that love -is the father of desire, and amongst other definitions which are -given of love this is one. Love is that first change which we -feel caused in our mind by the appetite which moves us and -draws us to itself, delighting and pleasing us; and that pleasure -begets motion in the soul, which motion is called desire, and, in -short, desire is a motion of the appetite in regard to what is -loved, and a wish for that which is possessed, and its object is -happiness. And as there are found different species of desires, -and love is a species of desire which looks to and regards the -happiness which is called fair, yet for a clearer definition and -division of love it must be understood that it is divided into -three kinds, chaste love, useful love, and delectable love. -And to these three forms of love are reduced all the kinds of -loving and desiring that can exist in our will: for the chaste -love regards the things of Heaven, eternal and divine; the useful, -the things of earth, full of joy and doomed to perish, such -as wealth, powers, and lordships; the delectable, things giving -delight and pleasure, as the living corporeal beauties of which -you, Lenio, spoke. And each form of these loves of which I -have spoken ought not to be blamed by any tongue, for the -chaste love ever was, is and must be spotless, simple, pure and -divine, finding rest and repose in God alone. Profitable -love, being, as it is, natural, ought not to be condemned, still less -the delectable, for it is more natural than the profitable. That -these two forms of love are natural in us, experience shows us, -for as soon as our daring first parent transgressed the divine -commandment, and from lord was made a servant, and from -freeman a slave, straightway he knew the misery into which he -had fallen, and the poverty in which he was. And so he -at once took the leaves of trees to cover him, and sweated -and toiled, breaking the earth to sustain himself, and to live -with the least discomfort possible; and thereafter, obeying his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174"></a>[Pg 174]</span> -God therein better than in aught else, he sought to have children, -and in them to perpetuate and delight the human race. And as -by his disobedience death entered into him, and through him -into all his descendants, so we inherit at the same time all his -affections and passions, as we inherit his very nature; and as he -sought to remedy his necessity and poverty, so we cannot fail to -seek and desire to remedy ours. And hence springs the love we -have for things useful to human life; and the more we gain of -them, the more it seems to us we remedy our want. And by the -same reasoning we inherit the desire of perpetuating ourselves in -our children; and from this desire follows that, which we have, to -enjoy living corporeal beauty, as the only true means which lead -such desires to a happy end. So that this delectable love, alone -and without mixture of any other accident, is worthy rather of -praise than of blame. And this is the love, which you, Lenio, -hold for enemy; and the cause is that you do not understand it, -nor know it, for you have never seen it alone, and in its own -shape, but always accompanied by pernicious, lascivious and -ill-placed desires. And this is not the fault of love, which is -always good, but of the accidents which come to it; as we see -happening in some copious stream, that has its birth from some -clear and limpid spring, which is ever supplying to it clear cool -waters, and a little while after it leaves its stainless mother, its -sweet and crystalline waters are changed to bitter and turbid, by -reason of the many stained brooks, which join it on either side. -Hence this first motion, love or desire as you would call it, cannot -arise except from a good beginning; and truly among good -beginnings is the knowledge of beauty, which, once recognised as -such, it seems well-nigh impossible to avoid loving. And beauty -has such power to move our minds, that it alone caused the ancient -philosophers (blind and without the light of faith to guide them), -led by natural reason, and attracted by the beauty they beheld -in the starry heavens, and in the mechanism and roundness of the -earth, marvelling at such harmony and beauty, to pursue investigations -with the understanding, making a ladder by these second -causes to reach the first cause of causes; and they recognised -that there was one only beginning without beginning of all -things. But that which made them wonder most and raise -their thoughts, was to see the frame of man so well-ordered, -so perfect and so beautiful, that they came to call him a -world in little; and so it is true that in all the works made by -God's steward, Nature, nothing is of such excellence, nor reveals -more the greatness and wisdom of its Maker. For in the form -and frame of man is summed up and enclosed the beauty which is -distributed in all the other parts of it; and hence it arises that -this beauty, when recognised, is loved, and as all beauty displays -itself most and is most resplendent in the face, as soon as a -beautiful face is seen, it summons and draws the will to love it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_175"></a>[Pg 175]</span></p> - -<p>'Hence it follows that as the faces of women so much excel in -beauty those of men, it is they who are the more loved, served -and courted by us, as the object in which dwells the beauty that -is naturally more pleasing to our sight. But our Maker and -Creator, seeing that it is the proper nature of our soul to be for -ever in perpetual motion and desire, for it cannot find rest save -in God, as in its proper centre, willed, so that it might not rush -with loosened rein to desire things empty and doomed to perish, -and this without taking from it the liberty of free-will, to set -over its three powers an alert sentinel, who should warn it -against the dangers that opposed it and the enemies that -persecuted it; this was reason, which corrects and curbs our -inordinate desires. And seeing likewise that human beauty -must needs draw after it our passions and inclinations, while it -did not seem good to Him to take away from us this desire, at -least He wished to temper it and correct it, ordaining the holy -yoke of matrimony, beneath which most of the natural joys and -pleasures of love are lawful and fitting for man and woman. -By these two remedies imposed by the divine hand comes to be -tempered the excess there can be in the natural love which you, -Lenio, blame, which love is of itself so good that if it were -lacking in us, the world and we would end. In this very love -of which I am speaking are summed up all the virtues, for love -is moderation, since the lover, according to the chaste wish of -the beloved object, tempers his own; it is fortitude, for the -lover can endure any adversity for the love of the one who loves -him; it is justice, for with it he serves her who loves well, -reason itself forcing him to it; it is prudence, for love is adorned -with all wisdom. But I ask you, oh Lenio, you who have said -that love is the cause of the ruin of empires, of the destruction -of cities, of the deaths of friends, of sacrileges committed, the -deviser of treasons, the transgressor of laws—I ask you, I say, -to tell me, what praiseworthy thing there is to-day in the world, -however good it be, the use of which cannot be changed into -evil. Let philosophy be condemned, for often it discovers our -faults, and many philosophers have been wicked; let the works -of the heroic poets be burned, for with their satires and verses -they reprehend vices; let medicine be blamed, for men discover -poisons; let eloquence be called useless, for at times it has been -so arrogant that it has placed in doubt the recognised truth; -let not arms be forged, for robbers and murderers use them; -let not houses be built, for they can fall upon the inhabitants; -let variety of victuals be prohibited, for they are wont to be a -cause of illness; let no one seek to have children, for Œdipus, -driven by cruellest madness, slew his father, and Orestes smote -the breast of his own mother; let fire be counted evil, for it is -wont to burn houses and to consume cities; let water be -despised, for with it all the earth was flooded; in a word, let all<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_176"></a>[Pg 176]</span> -elements be condemned, for they can be perversely used by -some perverse persons. And in this manner every good thing -can be changed to evil, and from it can proceed evil effects, if -placed in the hands of those who, as irrational beings, allow -themselves to be governed by the appetite, without moderation. -The ancient Carthage, rival of the Roman Empire, warlike -Numantia, Corinth made so fair, proud Thebes, and learned -Athens, and God's city Jerusalem, which were conquered and -laid desolate—are we to say therefore that love was the cause -of their destruction and ruin? Hence those who are accustomed -to speak ill of love, ought to speak ill of their own selves, for the -gifts of love, if they are used with moderation, are worthy of -perpetual praise; since in everything the mean was always -praised, or the extreme was blamed, for if we embrace virtue -beyond what suffices, the wise man will win the name of fool, -and the just of iniquitous. It was the opinion of the ancient -tragedian Chremes, that, as wine mixed with water is good, so -love, when moderate, is profitable, but it is the contrary when -immoderate; the generation of rational animals and brutes -would be naught if it did not proceed from love, and if it were -wanting on earth, the latter would be deserted and empty. The -ancients believed that love was the work of the gods, given for -the preservation and care of mankind. But, coming to what -you, Lenio, said of the sad and strange effects which love -produces in loving breasts, keeping them ever in ceaseless -tears, deep sighs, despairing fancies, without ever granting them -an hour of repose—let us see perchance what thing can be -desired in this life the attainment of which does not cost fatigue -and toil; and the more valuable a thing is, the more one must -suffer and does suffer for it. For desire presupposes a lack of the -desired object, and until it is gained there must needs be disturbance -in our mind. If then all human desires, without wholly -attaining what they desire, can be rewarded and contented with -a part of it being given them, and with all this it is compatible -to follow them, how strange it is that to attain what cannot -satisfy nor content the desire save with itself, one should suffer, -weep, fear and hope? He who desires lordships, commands, -honours, and riches, since he sees that he cannot reach the -highest rank he would wish, when he succeeds in settling in -some good position, is partly satisfied, for the hope which fails -him of not being able to ascend further, makes him stop where -he can, and where best he can. All this is the contrary in love, -for love has no other reward nor satisfaction save love itself, and -love itself is its own true reward; and for this reason it is -impossible for the lover to be content till he clearly knows that -he is truly loved, being assured of this by the loving tokens -which they know. And so they value highly a pleasing glance, -a pledge of any sort from their beloved, a trivial smile, or word,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_177"></a>[Pg 177]</span> -or jest they take for truth, as signs which are assuring them of -the reward they desire; and so, whenever they see tokens -contrary thereto, the lover is constrained to lament and grieve, -without having moderation in his sorrows, since he cannot have -it in his joys, when kind fortune and gentle love grant them to -him. And, as it is a task of such difficulty to bring another's -will to be one with mine, and to unite two souls in a knot and -bond so indissoluble that the thoughts of the two may be one -and all their deeds one, it is not strange that to achieve so lofty -a purpose one should suffer more than for aught else, since, -after it is achieved, it satisfies and gladdens beyond all things -that are desired in this life. Not always are the tears of lovers -shed with cause and reason, nor their sighs scattered, for if all -their tears and sighs were caused by seeing that their wish is -not responded to as is due, and with the reward that is sought -for, it would be necessary to consider first whither they raised -their fancy, and if they exalted it higher than their merit attains, -it is no wonder that, like some new Icarus, they fall consumed -into the river of miseries; and for these love will not incur the -blame, but their folly. With all this I do not deny, but affirm -that the desire of gaining what is loved, must needs cause -affliction, by reason of the want it presupposes, as I have -already said at other times; but I also say that to attain it -gives the greatest pleasure and happiness, like rest to the weary -and health to the sick. Together with this I acknowledge that -if lovers marked, as in the ancient custom, with white and black -stones their sad or happy days, without any doubt the unhappy -would be more; but I also recognise that the quality of one -white stone alone would excel the quantity of countless black -ones. And for a proof of this truth we see that lovers never -repent of being lovers, nay, rather, if anyone should promise them -to deliver them from love's disease, they would repel him as an -enemy; for even to suffer it is pleasant to them; and therefore, -oh lovers, let no fear prevent you from offering and dedicating -yourselves to love what should seem to you most difficult, nor -complain, nor repent, if you have raised things lowly to your -height, for love makes the little equal to the sublime, the lesser -to the greater; and with just resolve it tempers the various -dispositions of lovers, when with pure affection they receive its -grace in their hearts. Yield not to dangers, that the glory may -be so great as to take away the feeling of every sorrow; and, as -for the captains and emperors of old, as a reward for their toils -and fatigues, triumphs were prepared according to the greatness -of their victories, so for lovers are reserved a multitude of -pleasures and joys; and as with the former their glorious -reception made them forget all their past troubles and griefs, so -with the lover, when beloved by the beloved, his dreadful -dreams, his uncertain sleep, his waking nights, his restless days<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_178"></a>[Pg 178]</span> -are turned to highest peace and happiness. Hence, Lenio, if -you condemn them for their sad effects, you should acquit them -for their pleasing and happy ones. And as for the interpretation -you gave of Cupid's form, I am going to say that you are almost -as wrong in it as in the other things you have said against love. -For to picture him a boy, blind, naked, with wings and arrows, -means nothing but that the lover must be a boy in not having a -double character, but one pure and simple; he must be blind -to every other object that might offer itself to him, save that -which he has already been able to see and yield to, naked -because he must have naught save what belongs to her he loves, -having wings of swiftness to be ready for all that may be -commanded him on her part, while he is depicted with arrows, -for the wound of the loving breast must needs be deep and -hidden, and that scarce may be disclosed save to the very cause -that is to cure it. That love should strike with two arrows -which operate in different ways, is to show us that in perfect -love there must be no mean between loving and not loving at -the same moment, but that the lover must love whole-heartedly -without any admixture of lukewarmness. Finally, Lenio, this -love it is which, if it destroyed the Trojans, made the Greeks -great; if it caused the works of Carthage to cease, it caused the -buildings of Rome to grow; if it took away the kingdom from -Tarquin, it brought back the republic to freedom. Though I -might here adduce many examples opposed to those I have -adduced of the <em>good</em> effects love causes, I do not wish to busy -myself with them, since they are so well known of themselves. -I only wish to ask you to be disposed to believe what I have -shown and to have patience to hear a song of mine which seems -as if it was composed in rivalry of yours; and if by it and by -what I have said to you, you should not be willing to be brought -over to love's side, and it should seem to you that you are not -satisfied of the truths I have declared concerning it, if the present -time permits it, or at any other you might choose and indicate, I -promise you to satisfy all the replies and arguments you might -wish to express in opposition to mine; and, for the present, -attend to me and listen:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Come, issue from the pure and loving breast,</span><br /> -Sonorous voice, and let thy tones of pride<br /> -Sing of the lofty marvels done by Love,<br /> -So that the thought that freest is and best,<br /> -May be content thereby and satisfied,<br /> -Though 'tis but hearsay that the thought doth move.<br /> -Sweet Love, that canst thy lofty marvels prove,<br /> -If thou wilt, by my tongue,<br /> -Grant unto it such grace,<br /> -That glory, joy and praise,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_179"></a>[Pg 179]</span><br /> -For telling who thou art, reward my song;<br /> -For, if thou aidest me, as I surmise,<br /> -Thy worth, in rapid flight<br /> -To Heaven's height, we see with mine arise.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Tis Love that is beginning of our bliss;</span><br /> -The means whereby one winneth and attaineth<br /> -The happiest end that anyone doth seek;<br /> -Unequalled master of all sciences:<br /> -A fire, that, though a breast ice cold remaineth,<br /> -Into bright flames of virtue makes it break;<br /> -A power that wounds the strong and helps the weak;<br /> -A root from which is born<br /> -The lucky plant whereby<br /> -We rise to Heaven on high,<br /> -With fruitage, that doth unto pleasure turn<br /> -The soul, of goodness, worth, and noble zeal,<br /> -Of bliss without alloy,<br /> -That earth with joy, and Heaven with love doth fill;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Courteous and gallant, wise, discreet is he;</span><br /> -Gay, liberal-handed, gentle, rich in might;<br /> -Of piercing glance, although blind be his eyes;<br /> -True guardian of respect and modesty;<br /> -A captain who doth triumph in the fight,<br /> -But honour only claimeth as his prize;<br /> -A flower that doth 'midst thorns and brambles rise,<br /> -Which life and soul adorns;<br /> -An enemy of fear;<br /> -Of hope a friend so near;<br /> -A guest that gladdens most when he returns;<br /> -An instrument of honoured wealth, I trow,<br /> -Whereby one seeth thrive<br /> -The honoured ivy on the honoured brow;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">A natural instinct that doth move us all</span><br /> -To raise the thoughts within our minds so high<br /> -That scarce thereto doth human sight attain:<br /> -A ladder which he that is bold doth scale<br /> -To the sweet region of the hallowed sky;<br /> -Ridge at its summit fair, smooth as a plain;<br /> -An easiness that makes the intricate plain;<br /> -Pole-star that in this sea<br /> -Of madness guides the thought<br /> -That from sense strayeth not;<br /> -A solace of the sorrowing fantasy;<br /> -Godfather who doth never seek our harm;<br /> -A beacon not concealed<br /> -That hath revealed the haven 'midst the storm;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">A painter that doth in our souls portray,</span><br /> -With shadows and with tints full of repose,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_180"></a>[Pg 180]</span><br /> -Now mortal, now immortal, loveliness;<br /> -A sun that driveth all the clouds away;<br /> -A pleasure that brings sweetness in our woes;<br /> -A glass wherein one sees the kindliness<br /> -Of nature, that doth crown with high success<br /> -True generosity;<br /> -A fiery spirit bright,<br /> -That even to the blindest bringeth light;<br /> -Of hatred and of fear sole remedy;<br /> -Argus that ne'er can tempted be to nod,<br /> -Although within his ear<br /> -The words he hear of some deceiving god;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">An army of well-armèd infantry</span><br /> -That countless difficulties puts to flight,<br /> -And ever wins the victory and the palm;<br /> -A dwelling where abideth jollity;<br /> -A face that never hides the truth from sight,<br /> -But shows what is within the soul; a balm<br /> -Whose power the tempest changeth to sweet calm.<br /> -Merely because some day<br /> -We hope to have it sure;<br /> -A comfort that doth cure<br /> -Him who is scorned, when life doth pass away;<br /> -Finally Love is life, 'tis glory, gladness,<br /> -'Tis joyful peace and sweet;<br /> -Follow his feet; to follow him is gladness.'</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">The end of the reasoning and song of Thyrsis was the -beginning to confirm anew in all the reputation he had for -discretion, save in the loveless Lenio, to whom his reply did not -seem so good as to satisfy his understanding, and change him -from his first purpose. This was clearly seen, for he was already -giving signs of wishing to answer and reply to Thyrsis, had not -the praises Darinto and his companion, and all the shepherds -and shepherdesses present were giving the two, prevented it; -for Darinto's friend, taking his hand, said:</p> - -<p>'I have just at this moment learnt how the power and wisdom -of love extends over every part of the earth; and that the place -where it is most refined and purified is in shepherds' breasts, -as has been shown to us by what we have heard from the loveless -Lenio and the discreet Thyrsis, whose reasonings and -arguments savour more of intellects nurtured amidst books and -lecture-rooms, than of those that have grown up amidst thatched -huts. But I would not be so astonished thereat, if I were of the -opinion of him who said that the knowledge of our souls was to -remember what they already knew, presupposing that they are -all born instructed. But when I see that I ought to follow the -other and better view of him who affirmed that our soul was as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_181"></a>[Pg 181]</span> -it were a blank canvas, which had nothing painted on it, I -cannot fail to wonder at seeing how it has been possible, in the -company of sheep, in the solitude of the fields, for one to be -able to acquire sciences, concerning which it is scarcely possible -to hold disputes in renowned universities; if, indeed, I do not -wish to be persuaded of what I said at first, that love extends -through all, and communicates itself to all, raising the fallen, -giving wisdom to the simple, and making perfect the wise.'</p> - -<p>'If you knew, sir,' replied Elicio at this moment, 'how the -upbringing of the renowned Thyrsis has not been amidst trees -and forests, as you fancy, but in royal courts and well-known -schools, you would not wonder at what he has said, but at what -he has left unsaid; and although the loveless Lenio in his -humility has confessed that the rusticity of his life can promise -but slight pledges of intellect, nevertheless I assure you that he -spent the choicest years of his life, not in the pursuit of tending -goats on the hills, but on the banks of the clear Tormes in -laudable studies and discreet converse. So that if the colloquy -the two have held seems to you of more worth than one of shepherds, -consider them as they were, and not as they now are; all -the more so that you will find shepherds on these banks of ours, -who will not cause you less wonder if you hear them, than those -you have heard now. For on them are grazing their flocks the -famous and well-known Franio, Siralvo, Filardo, Silvano, Lisardo -and the two Matuntos, father and son, excelling beyond all -excellence, one on the lyre, the other in poetry; and, to crown -all, turn your eyes and know the well-known Damon, whom you -have before you, where your desire can rest if it wishes to know -the extreme of discretion and wisdom.'</p> - -<p>The gentleman was about to reply to Elicio, when one of those -ladies who came with him said to the other:</p> - -<p>'It seems to me, señora Nisida, that since the sun is now -setting it would be well for us to go, if we are to reach to-morrow -the spot where they say our father is.'</p> - -<p>The lady had scarcely said this, when Darinto and his companion -looked at her, showing that it had grieved them that she -had called the other by her name. But when Elicio heard the -name of Nisida, the thought struck him whether it was that -Nisida of whom the hermit Silerio had related so many things, -and the same idea came to Thyrsis, Damon and Erastro. And -Elicio, to assure himself of what he suspected, said:</p> - -<p>'A few days ago, señor Darinto, I and some of us who are -here heard the name of Nisida mentioned, as has been done by -that lady now, but accompanied by more tears and referred to -with more alarm.'</p> - -<p>'Is there perchance,' replied Darinto, 'any shepherdess on -these banks of yours called Nisida?'</p> - -<p>'No,' replied Elicio; 'but she whom I speak of was born on<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_182"></a>[Pg 182]</span> -them, and was nurtured on the remote banks of the famous -Sebeto.'</p> - -<p>'What is it you say, shepherd?' rejoined the other gentleman.</p> - -<p>'What you hear,' replied Elicio, 'and what you will hear at -greater length, if you assure me of a suspicion I have.'</p> - -<p>'Tell it me,' said the gentleman, 'for it might be that I shall -satisfy you therein.'</p> - -<p>To this Elicio replied: 'Is your own name, sir, perchance -Timbrio?'</p> - -<p>'I cannot deny that truth to you,' replied the other, 'for I am -called Timbrio, which name I had fain concealed till another -more fitting season; but the wish I have to know why you -suspected that I was so called, constrains me to conceal naught -from you of what you might wish to know of me.'</p> - -<p>'Accordingly you will not deny to me either,' said Elicio, -'that this lady you have with you is called Nisida, and further, -so far as I can guess, the other is called Blanca, and is her -sister.'</p> - -<p>'In all you have hit the mark,' replied Timbrio; 'but since I -have denied to you nothing of what you have asked me, do not -you deny me the reason that has moved you to ask it me.'</p> - -<p>'It is as good, and will be as much to your taste,' replied -Elicio, 'as you will see before many hours.'</p> - -<p>All those who did not know what the hermit Silerio had said -to Elicio, Thyrsis, Damon and Erastro, were confounded, hearing -what was passing between Timbrio and Elicio. But at this -moment Damon said, turning to Elicio:</p> - -<p>'Do not keep back, oh Elicio, the good tidings you can give -to Timbrio.'</p> - -<p>'And I, too,' said Erastro, 'shall not delay a moment in going -to give to the hapless Silerio those of the finding of Timbrio.'</p> - -<p>'Holy Heavens! O, what is it I hear!' said Timbrio; 'and what -is it you say, shepherd? Is that Silerio you have named perchance -he who is my true friend, he who is the half of my life, -he whom I desire to see more than aught else that desire could -ask of me? Free me from this doubt at once, so may your -flocks increase and multiply, in such a manner that all the -neighbouring herdsmen may bear you envy.'</p> - -<p>'Do not distress yourself so much, Timbrio,' said Damon, -'for the Silerio that Erastro speaks of is the same that you -speak of, and the one who desires more to know of your life -than to sustain and lengthen his own; for after you departed -from Naples, as he has told us, he has felt your absence so -much, that the pain of it, with that which other losses he related -to us caused him, has brought him to the pass that, in a small -hermitage, a little less than a league distant from here, he leads -the straitest life imaginable, with the determination of awaiting -death there, since he could not be satisfied by learning how your<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_183"></a>[Pg 183]</span> -life had prospered. This we know for sure, Thyrsis, Elicio, -Erastro, and I; for he himself has told us of the friendship he -had with you, with all the story of the events that happened to -both, until fortune by such strange accidents parted you, to set -him apart to live in a solitude so strange, that it will cause you -wonder when you see him.'</p> - -<p>'May I see him, and may straightway come the last end of my -days,' said Timbrio; 'and so I pray you, famous shepherds, by -that courtesy which dwells in your breasts, to satisfy this breast -of mine, by telling me where is that hermitage where Silerio -is living.'</p> - -<p>'Where he is dying, you had better say,' said Erastro, 'but -henceforward he will live with the news of your coming; and -since you so much desire his pleasure and yours, arise and let us -go, for before the sun sets I will set you with Silerio; but it must -be on condition that on the way you tell us all that has happened -to you since you departed from Naples, for with all the rest up to -that point some of those present are acquainted.'</p> - -<p>'Small payment you ask of me,' replied Timbrio, 'for so great -a thing as you offer me; for I do not say that I will tell you this, -but all that you might wish to learn of me and more.' And, -turning to the ladies who came with him, he said to them: 'Since -with so good a cause, dear lady Nisida, the motive we had not -to utter our own names has been destroyed, with the joy that -the good news they have given us demands, I ask you that we -should not delay, but that we should go forthwith to see Silerio, -to whom you and I owe our lives and the happiness we possess.'</p> - -<p>'It is needless, señor Timbrio,' replied Nisida, 'for you to ask -me to do a thing I desire so much, and the doing of which suits -me so well; let us go, and may good luck attend us, for now -every moment that I delay in seeing him, will be to me an age.'</p> - -<p>The same said the other lady, who was her sister Blanca, the -same that Silerio had spoken of, and the one who gave the -greatest signs of happiness. Darinto alone, at the news of Silerio, -assumed such an attitude that he did not move his lips, but with -a strange silence arose, and bade a servant of his bring him the -horse on which he had come there; without taking leave of any -one, he mounted it, and turning the reins went away from all -at a gallop. When Timbrio saw this, he mounted another horse -and with much haste followed Darinto until he overtook him; -and seizing hold of the horse's reins, he made him stand still, -and remained there talking with him a good while, at the end of -which Timbrio returned to where the shepherds were, and -Darinto pursued his journey, sending to excuse himself by -Timbrio for having departed without taking leave of them. -In the meantime Galatea, Rosaura, Teolinda, Leonarda, and -Florisa went up to the fair Nisida and Blanca; and the discreet -Nisida told them in a few words of the great friendship there<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_184"></a>[Pg 184]</span> -was between Timbrio and Silerio, with a great part of the -events they had passed through. But with Timbrio's return all -wished to set themselves on the road for Silerio's hermitage, had -not at the same moment a fair young shepherdess, some fifteen -years of age, come to the spring, with her wallet on her shoulder -and her crook in her hand. And when she saw so pleasing a -company, she said to them with tears in her eyes:</p> - -<p>'If perchance there is among you, gentlemen, one who has -any knowledge of the strange effects and accidents of love, and -whose breast tears and loving sights are wont to make tender, -let him who feels this hasten to see if it is possible to heal and -check the most loving tears and deep sighs that ever issued from -love-sick eyes and breasts; hasten then, shepherds, to do what I -ask you and you will see how when you observe what I show you -I prove my words true.'</p> - -<p>And in saying this she turned her back, and all who were -there followed her. The shepherdess, seeing then that they -followed her, with hasty step entered in among some trees which -were on one side of the spring; and she had not gone far, when -turning to those who were coming after her, she said to them:</p> - -<p>'You see there, sirs, the cause of my tears, for that shepherd -who appears there is a brother of mine, who for the sake of that -shepherdess before whom he is bent on his knees, without any -doubt will leave his life in the hands of her cruelty.'</p> - -<p>All turned their eyes to the spot the shepherdess indicated, -and saw that at the foot of a green willow a shepherdess was -leaning, dressed like a huntress nymph, with a rich quiver hanging -at her side, and a curved bow in her hands, her beauteous -ruddy locks bound together with a green garland. The shepherd -was before her on his knees, with a rope cast round his throat -and an unsheathed knife in his right hand, and with his left he -had seized the shepherdess by a white scarf, which she wore -over her dress. The shepherdess showed a frown on her face, -and that she was displeased that the shepherd should detain her -there by force; but when she saw that they were looking at her, -with great earnestness she sought to free herself from the hand -of the hapless shepherd, who with abundance of tender tears -and loving words was begging her at least to give him opportunity -that he might be able to indicate to her the pain he -suffered for her; but the scornful and angry shepherdess went -away from him at the very moment all the shepherds came so -near that they heard the love-sick youth addressing the shepherdess -in such wise:</p> - -<p>'Oh ungrateful and heedless Gelasia, with how just a title you -have won the name you have of cruel! Turn your eyes, hard-hearted -one, to behold him who, from beholding you, is in the -extremest grief imaginable. Why do you flee from him who -follows you? Why do you not welcome him who serves you?<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_185"></a>[Pg 185]</span> -And why do you loathe him who adores you? You, who are -without reason my foe, hard as a lofty cliff, angry as a wounded -snake, deaf as a dumb forest, scornful as boorish, boorish as -fierce, fierce as a tiger, a tiger that feeds on my entrails! Will -it be possible for my tears not to soften you, for my sighs not to -rouse your pity, for my services not to move you? Yes, it will be -possible; since my brief and ill-starred lot wishes it, and yet it -will also be possible for you not to wish to tighten this noose I -have at my throat, nor to plunge this knife through this heart -that adores you. Turn, shepherdess, turn, and end the tragedy -of my wretched life, since with such ease you can make fast this -rope at my throat, or make bloody this knife in my breast.'</p> - -<p>These and other like words the hapless shepherd uttered, -accompanied by sobs and tears so many that they moved to -compassion as many as heard him. But the cruel and loveless -shepherdess did not therefore cease to pursue her way, without -wishing even to turn her eyes to behold the shepherd, who, for -her sake, was in such a state; whereat all those who perceived -her angry disdain were not a little astonished, and it was -so great that even the loveless Lenio thought ill of the shepherdess's -cruelty. And so he with the old Arsindo went up to -ask her to be so good as to turn and hear the plaints of the love-sick -youth, even though she should have no intention of healing -them. But it was not possible to change her from her purpose, -rather she asked them not to count her discourteous in not -doing what they bade her; for her intention was to be the mortal -enemy of love and of all lovers, for many reasons which -moved her to it, and one of them was that from her childhood -she had dedicated herself to follow the pursuit of the chaste -Diana, adding to these so many reasons for not doing the -bidding of the shepherds that Arsindo held it for good to leave -her and return. The loveless Lenio did not do this, and when -he saw that the shepherdess was such an enemy of love as she -seemed, and that she agreed so completely with his loveless disposition, -he determined to know who she was, and to follow her -company for some days; and so he told her how he was the -greatest enemy love and lovers had, begging her that since they -agreed so much in their opinions, she would be so kind as not to -be wearied with his company which would not be hers longer than -she pleased. The shepherdess rejoiced to learn Lenio's intention, -and permitted him to come with her to her village, which was -two leagues from Lenio's. Therewith Lenio took leave of -Arsindo, begging him to excuse him to all his friends and to tell -them the reason that had moved him to go with the shepherdess, -and without waiting further, he and Gelasia went away -quickly and in a short while disappeared. When Arsindo -returned to tell what had passed with the shepherdess, he -found that all the shepherds had gone up to console the love-<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186"></a>[Pg 186]</span>sick -shepherd, and that, as for the two of the three veiled -shepherdesses, one had fainted in the fair Galatea's lap, and the -other was in the embrace of the beauteous Rosaura, who likewise -had her face covered. She who was with Galatea was -Teolinda, and the other her sister Leonarda, whose hearts, as -soon as they saw the despairing shepherd whom they found -with Gelasia, were overwhelmed with a jealous and love-sick -faintness, for Leonarda believed the shepherd was her beloved -Galercio, and Teolinda counted it truth that he was her enamoured -Artidoro; and when the two saw him so subdued and -undone by the cruel Gelasia, they felt such grief in soul that all -senseless they fell fainting, one into Galatea's lap, the other into -Rosaura's arms. But a little while after Leonarda, coming to -herself, said to Rosaura:</p> - -<p>'Alas, my lady, I verily believe that fortune has occupied all -the passes of my cure, since Galercio's will is so far from being -mine, as can be seen by the words that shepherd has spoken to -the loveless Gelasia; for I would have you know, lady, that -that is he who has stolen my freedom, nay he who is to end my -days.'</p> - -<p>Rosaura was astonished at what Leonarda was saying; and -was more so when, Teolinda also having come to herself, she -and Galatea called her, and, all joining Florisa and Leonarda, -Teolinda said that that shepherd was her longed-for Artidoro; -but scarcely had she named him, when her sister replied to -her that she was deceived, for it was none but his brother -Galercio:</p> - -<p>'Ah, traitorous Leonarda,' replied Teolinda, 'does it not -suffice you that you have once parted me from my bliss, without -wishing, now that I find it, to say that it is yours? Then undeceive -yourself, for in this I do not deem you a sister, but -an open foe.'</p> - -<p>'Without doubt you deceive yourself, sister,' replied Leonarda, -'and I do not wonder, for into this same error all the people of -our village fell, believing that this shepherd was Artidoro, until -they clearly came to understand that it was none but his brother -Galercio, for they resemble each other as much as we do; and -indeed, if there can be greater likeness, they have a greater -likeness.'</p> - -<p>'I will not believe it,' replied Teolinda, 'for, though we are so -much alike, these miracles are not so easily found in nature; -and so I would have you know that so long as experience does -not make me more certain of the truth than your words make -me, I do not think of ceasing to believe that that shepherd I see -there, is Artidoro; and if anything could make me doubt it, it -is that I do not think that from the disposition and constancy I -have known in Artidoro, it can be hoped or feared that he has -made a change so soon and forgets me.'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_187"></a>[Pg 187]</span></p> - -<p>'Calm yourselves, shepherdesses,' then said Rosaura, 'for I -will free you soon from that doubt in which you are.'</p> - -<p>And leaving them she went to where the shepherd was giving -to the shepherds account of Gelasia's strange disposition -and of the wrongs she did him. At his side the shepherd had -the fair little shepherdess who said he was her brother, whom -Rosaura called, and, withdrawing with her to one side, she -begged and prayed her to tell her what her brother was called, -and if she had any other like him. To this the shepherdess -replied that he was called Galercio, and that she had another -called Artidoro, who was so like him that they could scarcely be -distinguished save by some mark in their dress, or by the organ -of the voice, which differed somewhat. She asked her also what -Artidoro had been doing. The shepherdess answered her that -he was on some mountains some distance from there, grazing -part of Grisaldo's flock with another herd of goats of his own, -and that he had never been willing to enter the village, or to -hold converse with any one, since he had come from the banks -of Henares; and together with these she gave her such other -details that Rosaura was satisfied that the shepherd was not -Artidoro, but Galercio, as Leonarda had said and that shepherdess -said, whose name she learned was Maurisa. And -taking her with her to where Galatea and the other shepherdesses -were, she related again in the presence of Teolinda -and Leonarda all she knew of Artidoro and Galercio, whereat -Teolinda was soothed and Leonarda ill content, seeing how indisposed -Galercio's mind was to think of her affairs. In the -discourses the shepherdesses were holding, it chanced that -Leonarda called the veiled Rosaura by her name, and Maurisa, -hearing it, said:</p> - -<p>'If I do not deceive myself, lady, my coming here and my -brother's has been on your account.'</p> - -<p>'In what way?' said Rosaura.</p> - -<p>'I will tell it you, if you give me leave to tell it you alone,' -replied the shepherdess.</p> - -<p>'Willingly,' answered Rosaura, and the shepherdess going -aside with her, said to her:</p> - -<p>'Without any doubt, fair lady, it is to you and to the -shepherdess Galatea that my brother and I come with a -message from our master Grisaldo.'</p> - -<p>'That is the case,' replied Rosaura, and calling Galatea, both -listened to what Maurisa said from Grisaldo, which was to -inform them that he would come in two days with two friends -of his, to take her to his aunt's house, where they would in -secret celebrate their nuptials, and together with this she gave -to Galatea on behalf of Grisaldo some rich golden trinkets, by -way of thanks for the willingness she had shown to entertain -Rosaura. Rosaura and Galatea thanked Maurisa for the good<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_188"></a>[Pg 188]</span> -news, and in reward for it the discreet Galatea wished to share -with her the present Grisaldo had sent her, but Maurisa would -in no way accept it. Then Galatea began again to ask information -about the strange likeness there was between Galercio and -Artidoro. All the time Galatea and Rosaura spent in talking -to Maurisa, Teolinda and Leonarda occupied in looking at -Galercio, for, Teolinda's eyes feasting on Galercio's face which -resembled Artidoro's so much, she could not withdraw them -from looking; and as those of the love-sick Leonarda knew on -what they were looking, it was also impossible for her to turn -them elsewhere. By this time the shepherds had consoled -Galercio, though, for the ill he suffered, he counted every -counsel and consolation vain and needless, all of which redounded -to Leonarda's hurt. Rosaura and Galatea, seeing that -the shepherds were coming towards them, bade Maurisa farewell, -telling her to tell Grisaldo that Rosaura would be in -Galatea's house. Maurisa took leave of them, and calling her -brother, told him in secret what had passed with Rosaura and -Galatea; and so with fair courtesy he took leave of them and of -the shepherds and with his sister returned to his village. But -the love-sick sisters Teolinda and Leonarda, who saw that when -Galercio went, the light of their eyes and the life of their life -went from them, both together approached Galatea and Rosaura -and asked them to give them leave to follow Galercio, Teolinda -giving as excuse that Galercio would tell her where Artidoro -was, and Leonarda that it might be that Galercio's will would -change, seeing the obligation in which he was to her. The -shepherdesses granted them leave on the condition that Galatea -had before begged of Teolinda that she should inform her of all -her good or ill fortune. Teolinda repeated her promise again, -and again taking her leave, followed the way Galercio and -Maurisa were pursuing. The same was done forthwith, though -in a different direction, by Timbrio, Thyrsis, Damon, Orompo, -Crisio, Marsilio, and Orfenio, who went their way to the hermitage -of Silerio with the fair sisters Nisida and Blanca, having -first all taken leave of the venerable Aurelio and of Galatea, -Rosaura and Florisa, and also of Elicio and Erastro, who did -not wish to fail to go back with Galatea, Aurelio offering that on -coming to his village, he would go straightway with Elicio and -Erastro to seek them at Silerio's hermitage, and would bring -something with which to make good the lack of means Silerio -would have to entertain such guests. With this understanding -they went away, some in one direction and some in another, and -missing the old Arsindo at the leave-taking, they saw that, without -taking leave of any one, he was going in the distance by the -same way Galercio and Maurisa and the veiled shepherdesses -were pursuing, whereat they wondered; and seeing that now -the sun was hastening his course to enter by the gates of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_189"></a>[Pg 189]</span> -west, they did not wish to delay there further, in order to come -to the village before the shades of night. Elicio and Erastro -then, seeing themselves before the lady of their thoughts, in -order to show somewhat that which they could not conceal, and -to lighten the fatigue of the way, and also to fulfil the bidding -of Florisa, who bade them sing something whilst they were -going to the village, to the sound of Florisa's pipe began, Elicio -to sing and Erastro to reply in this wise:</p> - -<div class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></div> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whoso would fain the greatest beauty find</span><br /> -That was, or is, or shall be on the earth,<br /> -The fire and crucible, where are refined<br /> -White chastity and purest zeal, all worth,<br /> -Being, and understanding of the mind,<br /> -A Heaven that in the world had its new birth,<br /> -Loftiness joined in one with courtesy,<br /> -Let him approach my shepherdess to see.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>RASTRO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let him approach my shepherdess to see,</span><br /> -Whoso would tell the peoples of the sight<br /> -That he hath seen, a sun whose radiancy<br /> -The day illumined, than the sun more bright;<br /> -How with her fire she chilleth, this can be<br /> -Made known, and how the soul she sets alight<br /> -Which touched by her fair flashing eyes has been,<br /> -That naught is left to see when they are seen.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">That naught is left to see when they are seen,</span><br /> -This truth full well my wearied eyes do know,<br /> -Eyes that unto my hurt so fair have been,<br /> -The chief occasion of my bitter woe:<br /> -I saw them, and I saw my soul therein<br /> -Burning, the spoils of all its powers aglow,<br /> -Yielding in sweet surrender to their flame,<br /> -Which doth me summon, banish, freeze, inflame.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>RASTRO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">She doth me summon, banish, freeze, inflame,</span><br /> -She, the sweet enemy unto my glory,<br /> -From whose illustrious life and being fame<br /> -Can weave a strange, and yet a truthful story:<br /> -Her eyes alone, wherein Love sets his claim<br /> -To power, and all his winsomeness before ye,<br /> -Present a theme to raise to Heaven's height<br /> -A quill from any wing of lowly flight.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">A quill from any wing of lowly flight,</span><br /> -If it would wish unto the sky to rise,<br /> -The courtesy must sing, the zeal for right,<br /> -Of this rare phœnix, peerless 'neath the skies,<br /> -Our age's glory, and the world's delight,<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190"></a>[Pg 190]</span>Of the clear Tagus and its bank the prize,<br /> -Unequalled wisdom hers, and beauty rare,<br /> -Nature achieved her highest work in her.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>RASTRO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nature achieved her highest work in her,</span><br /> -In her the thought hath equal been to the art,<br /> -In her both worth and grace united were,<br /> -Which in all other maids are found apart,<br /> -In her humility and greatness share<br /> -Together side by side the self-same part,<br /> -In her Love hath his nest and dwelling made,<br /> -And yet my foe hath been the thankless maid.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">And yet my foe hath been the thankless maid,</span><br /> -Who would, and could, and should at once my thought<br /> -That wanders free, hold fast, if but the aid<br /> -Of one of her gossamer locks she sought;<br /> -Though I within the narrow noose am laid,<br /> -My capture is with so much pleasure fraught,<br /> -That foot and neck I stretch out to the chain,<br /> -Sweet is the name I call my bitter pain.</p> -</div> -</div> -<p class="p01">E<small>RASTRO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sweet is the name I call my bitter pain,</span><br /> -Short is the life and full of misery<br /> -Of the sad soul my frame doth scarce sustain,<br /> -And sustenance doth scarce to it supply,<br /> -To my brief hope that it the crown should gain<br /> -Of faith, fortune once promised bounteously;<br /> -What pleasure, good or glory doth he know,<br /> -Where hope diminisheth and faith doth grow?</p> -</div> -</div> -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Where hope diminisheth and faith doth grow,</span><br /> -There one can see and know the lofty aims<br /> -That loyal love proclaims; for he whose thought<br /> -Hath confidence but sought in love so pure,<br /> -Of a reward secure and certain is,<br /> -Which shall with truest bliss his soul delight.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>RASTRO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">The wretched suffering wight, whom illness swayeth</span><br /> -And with cruel anguish slayeth, is contented,<br /> -When he is most tormented by his grief,<br /> -With any small relief, though soon 'tis gone:<br /> -But when more dull hath grown at last the pain,<br /> -He calls on health, and fain would have it sound.<br /> -Not otherwise is found the tender breast<br /> -Of the lover oppressed with grievous sadness,<br /> -Who says his pain doth gladness find herein,<br /> -In that the light serene of the fair eyes<br /> -To which as spoil and prize he gave his days,<br /> -Should on him truly gaze or feignedly;<br /> -Soon as love sets him free and makes him strong,<br /> -He seeks with clamorous tongue more than before.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now the fair sun sinks o'er the hill to rest,</span><br /> -The growing gloom doth, best of friends, invite<br /> -Us to repose, the night is drawing nigh.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>RASTRO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">The village draweth nigh, for rest I long.</span></p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></div> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let us put silence to our wonted song.</span></p> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Those who were listening to Elicio and Erastro would have -held it a good thing that the way should be prolonged in order -to enjoy more the agreeable song of the love-sick shepherds; -but the closing-in of night and their coming to the village -caused them to cease from it, and Aurelio, Galatea, Rosaura, -and Florisa to betake themselves to their house. Elicio and -Erastro likewise went to theirs, with the intention of going forthwith -to where Thyrsis and Damon and the other shepherds -were, for so it was agreed between them and Galatea's father. -They were only waiting until the white moon should banish the -darkness of the night; and as soon as she showed her fair face, -they went to seek Aurelio, and all together made their way -towards the hermitage, where there happened to them what will -be seen in the following book.</p> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_191"></a>[Pg 191]</span></p> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">BOOK V.</h2> - -<p>So great was the desire the love-sick Timbrio and the two fair -sisters Nisida and Blanca felt to reach Silerio's hermitage that -the swiftness of their steps, though it was great, could not come -up to that of their will; and, knowing this, Thyrsis and Damon -would not press Timbrio to fulfil the word he had given to -relate to them on the way all that had happened during his -travels after he departed from Silerio. Nevertheless, carried -away by the desire they had to learn it, they were just going -to ask it of him, had there not at that moment smitten the ears -of all the voice of a shepherd, who was singing amongst some -green trees a little way off the road; from the somewhat untuneful -sound of his voice, and from what he was singing, he was at -once recognised by most of those who were coming along, -especially by his friend Damon, for it was the shepherd Lauso -who was repeating some verses to the sound of a small rebeck. -And because the shepherd was so well known, and all had -learned of the change which had taken place in his inclination, -they checked their steps of one accord, and stopped to listen to -what Lauso was singing, which was this:</p> - -<p class="p01">L<small>AUSO.</small> </p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Who hath come a slave to make</span><br /> -Of my thought, with freedom filled?<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_192"></a>[Pg 192]</span> -Who, where fortune did forsake,<br /> -Lofty towers of wind could build<br /> -On foundations doomed to break?<br /> -Who my freedom took away,<br /> -What time I in safety lay,<br /> -And with life was satisfied?<br /> -Who my breast hath opened wide,<br /> -And hath made my will decay?</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Whither hath the fancy flown</span><br /> -Of my scornful, loveless mind?<br /> -Whither the soul I called my own?<br /> -And the heart that none may find<br /> -Where it was—whither hath it gone?<br /> -Where can my whole being be?<br /> -Whence come I and whither flee?<br /> -Know I aught of this my pass?<br /> -Am I he that once I was,<br /> -Or have I been never he?</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">On myself I call to explain,</span><br /> -Yet I cannot prove the truth,<br /> -Since to this pass I attain<br /> -That of what I was in youth<br /> -But a shadow I remain;<br /> -Knowledge how myself to know,<br /> -Help to help myself—these go<br /> -Far from me, and sure I find<br /> -Woe 'midst such confusion blind,<br /> -Yet I think not of my woe.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">In this hapless state I lie,</span><br /> -Captive to my sorrow's power,<br /> -To the love that doth comply,<br /> -Thus the present I adore,<br /> -And bewail the days gone by;<br /> -In the present I perceive<br /> -That I die, and that I live<br /> -In the past; now death I hold<br /> -Sweet, and in the days of old<br /> -Fate, that bliss no more can give.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Blind am I, my woe is great</span><br /> -In so strange an agony,<br /> -For I see that Love doth prate,<br /> -And that in the flames I lie,<br /> -Yet 'tis water cold I hate;<br /> -Save the water from mine eyes,<br /> -Of the fire the fuel and prize,<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_193"></a>[Pg 193]</span>In the forge of Love I crave<br /> -Water none, nor seek to have<br /> -Other comfort to my sighs.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">All my bliss would now begin,</span><br /> -All my sorrow now would end,<br /> -If my fortune willed herein<br /> -That my faith should from my friend<br /> -For its truth assurance win;<br /> -Come and tell Silena, sighs,<br /> -Come, instruct Silena, eyes<br /> -Filled with tears, that this is true;<br /> -Come, confirm it, each of you,<br /> -Pen and tongue and faculties.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">The eager Timbrio neither could nor would wait for the -shepherd Lauso to proceed further with his song, for, begging -the shepherds to show him the way of the hermitage, if they -wished to remain, he gave signs of going on, and so all followed -him, and they passed so near to where the love-sick Lauso was, -that he could not fail to perceive it, and to come forth to meet -them, as he did; and all were delighted with his company, -especially Damon, his true friend, whom he accompanied all -the way there was from there to the hermitage, discoursing on -the different events that had happened to the two since they -ceased seeing each other, which was from the time the -valorous and renowned shepherd Astraliano had left the -Cisalpine pastures, to go and bring back those who had -rebelled from his famous brother and from the true religion. -And at last they came to bring back their discourse to treat of -Lauso's love, Damon asking him earnestly to tell him who the -shepherdess was who with such ease had won him from free -will; and when he could not learn this from Lauso he begged -him with all earnestness at least to tell him in what state he -was, whether of fear or of hope, whether ingratitude harassed -him, or whether jealousy tormented him. To all this Lauso -answered satisfactorily, telling him some things that had happened -to him with his shepherdess; and among other things he -told him, how, finding himself one day jealous and out of favour, -he had come to the pass of putting an end to himself, or of giving -some token that might redound to the hurt of his person and to -the credit and honour of his shepherdess, but all was remedied -when he had spoken to her, and she had assured him that the -suspicion he had was false. All this being confirmed by her -giving him a ring from her hand, which caused his understanding -to return to a better course, and that favour to be -celebrated by a sonnet, which was counted for good by some -who saw it. Damon then asked Lauso to repeat it; and so, -without being able to excuse himself, he had to repeat it, and it -was this:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_194"></a>[Pg 194]</span></p> - -<p class="p01">L<small>AUSO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Love's rich and happy gage, that didst adorn</span><br /> -The precious ivory and the snow so pure!<br /> -Love's gage that didst from death and gloom obscure<br /> -Unto new light and life bid me return!</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">The hell of my misfortune thou didst turn</span><br /> -To the heaven of thy bliss, and thou didst lure<br /> -My hope to live in sweetest peace secure,—<br /> -The hope that thou didst cause once more to burn.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Dost know what thou dost cost me, gage of love?</span><br /> -My soul, and yet I am not satisfied,<br /> -Since less I give than what I do receive.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">But, that the world thy worth may know and prove,</span><br /> -Be thou my soul, be hidden in my side!<br /> -All shall see how for thee I soulless live.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">Lauso repeated the sonnet, and Damon again asked him, if -he had written anything else to his shepherdess, to repeat it to -him, since he knew how pleasant his verses were for him to hear. -To this Lauso replied:</p> - -<p>'This will be, Damon, because you have been my master -therein, and the desire you have to see what improvement you -have wrought in me makes you desire to hear them; but let -this be as it may, for nothing that I could do must be denied -you. And so I tell you that in these same days, when I was -jealous and ill at ease, I sent these verses to my shepherdess.'</p> - - -<p style="margin-top: 1em; " >L<small>AUSO TO</small> S<small>ILENA.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">In this great wholeheartedness</span><br /> -From the healthy purpose sprung,<br /> -'Tis Love guides the hand along<br /> -And the thought thy loveliness;<br /> -Love, Silena, in this hour,<br /> -And thy loveliness so fair,<br /> -Will account discretion rare<br /> -What thou wilt deem folly sure.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Love constrains, loveliness moveth</span><br /> -Me to adore thee, and to write;<br /> -Since my faith the twain upright<br /> -Hold, my hand its courage proveth;<br /> -And in this my fault so great,<br /> -Though thy rigour threateneth,<br /> -Love, thy loveliness, my faith,<br /> -Will my error palliate.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Since with helpers such as these,</span><br /> -Though they blame me, ne'ertheless,<br /> -I can well the bliss express<br /> -Sprung from mine own miseries;<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_195"></a>[Pg 195]</span> -And this bliss, full well I know,<br /> -Is naught else, Silena fair,<br /> -Save that I amid my care<br /> -Should a wondrous patience show.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">No small pleasure makes me glad,</span><br /> -For in patience lies my bliss;<br /> -Were it not so, long ere this,<br /> -Had my misery made me mad;<br /> -But my senses all agree,<br /> -All together join to cry,<br /> -That I, though I needs must die,<br /> -May die wise and patiently.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">After all, the jealous one,</span><br /> -Whom none loveth, scarce will be<br /> -Able to bear patiently,<br /> -When he makes his love-sick moan;<br /> -Since, amid my agonies,<br /> -All my bliss is banishèd,<br /> -When I see that hope is dead,<br /> -And the foe before my eyes.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Countless years, my shepherdess,</span><br /> -Revel in thy blissful thought,<br /> -For I seek no pleasure bought<br /> -With thy sorrow or distress;<br /> -Follow ever, lady fair,<br /> -Thy desire, since 'tis thy pleasure,<br /> -For I, for another's treasure,<br /> -Think not e'er to shed a tear.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">For it had been levity</span><br /> -To the soul my soul to yield,<br /> -Which hath as its glory held<br /> -That it hath not liberty;<br /> -But, ah me! fortune doth will—<br /> -And Love also doth agree—<br /> -That my neck is not to flee<br /> -From the knife that doth me kill.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now I go—I know too plain—</span><br /> -After one that shall me doom,<br /> -And when thoughts of parting come,<br /> -I more firm and fixed remain;<br /> -Ah, what bonds, what nets I find,<br /> -Dearest! in thine eyes so bright,<br /> -Which, the more I take to flight,<br /> -Hold the more, the faster bind!</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_196"></a>[Pg 196]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Eyes, alas! ye make me fear,</span><br /> -That if ye but look on me,<br /> -Lesser shall my solace be,<br /> -And the greater grow my care;<br /> -'Tis a truth none can gainsay,<br /> -That the glances ye bestow<br /> -On me, are but feigned, for, lo!<br /> -Cruelly they my love repay.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">With what dread and fear oppressed</span><br /> -Ever is my loving mind!<br /> -And what opposites I find<br /> -In the love within my breast!<br /> -Leave me, poignant memory,<br /> -Forget, nor another's bliss<br /> -Call to mind, for lost in this<br /> -Thine own glory is to thee.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">With such tokens thou affirmest</span><br /> -The love that is in thy breast;<br /> -By thy wrath I am oppressed,<br /> -Ever thou my woes confirmest;<br /> -By what laws of thine am I<br /> -Doomed to yield, Love, traitor fell!<br /> -Soul unto Silena's spell,<br /> -While she doth a word deny?</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">On points rousing bitter strife</span><br /> -I but for a moment dwell,<br /> -For the least of them might well<br /> -Leave me mad or without life;<br /> -Let my pen no further go,<br /> -Since thou mak'st it feel its doom,<br /> -'Tis not in my power to sum<br /> -In brief words so great a woe.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Whilst Lauso was occupied in repeating these verses, and in -praising the unwonted beauty, discretion, grace, modesty, and -worth of his shepherdess, the tedium of the way was lightened -for him and Damon, and the time passed for them without -being perceived, until they came near to Silerio's hermitage, -which Timbrio, Nisida, and Blanca would not enter, so as not -to alarm him by their unexpected arrival. But fate ordained it -otherwise, for Thyrsis and Damon having approached to see -what Silerio was doing, found the hermitage open, and without -any one inside; and whilst they were filled with astonishment, -without knowing where Silerio could be at such an hour, there -came to their ears the sound of his harp, from which they understood -that he could not be far away. And going to look for -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_197"></a>[Pg 197]</span> -him, guided by the sound of the harp, they saw by the bright -radiance of the moon, that he was seated on the trunk of an -olive, alone and without other company than that of his harp, -which he was playing so sweetly that to enjoy so gentle a -harmony, the shepherds would not approach to speak to him, -and the more so when they heard him beginning to sing with -exquisite voice these verses:</p> - -<p class="p01">S<small>ILERIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Swift fleeting hours of swiftly fleeting time,</span><br /> -That pass me by with wearied flight and slow,<br /> -If ye are not conspired unto my woe,<br /> -Be pleased to end me now, for 'tis full time.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">If now ye end me, 'twill be at a time</span><br /> -When my misfortunes can no further go;<br /> -See, if ye linger, they will lesser grow,<br /> -For evil endeth if it bides its time.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">I do not ask that ye should come, with pleasure</span><br /> -And sweetness filled, since ye no path will gain<br /> -To the life I have lost to lead me back.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hours, to all others blissful beyond measure,</span><br /> -Grant me but the sweet hour of mortal pain,<br /> -Even death's hour—this boon alone I lack.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">After the shepherds listened to what Silerio had sung without -his seeing them, they turned to meet the others who were coming -there, with the intent that Timbrio should do what you shall -now hear. This was, that, having told him how they had found -Silerio, and in the place where he was, Thyrsis asked him that, -without any of them letting themselves be recognised by him, -they should gradually go approaching towards him, whether he -saw them or not—for though the night was bright, no one would -be recognised on that account—and that he should likewise -make Nisida or himself sing something; and all this he did to -moderate the joy Silerio must needs feel from their arrival. -Timbrio was satisfied with this, and Nisida, being told it, came -to be of his opinion too; and so, when it seemed to Thyrsis -that they were now so near that they could be heard by Silerio, -he caused the fair Nisida to begin; and she, to the sound of the -jealous Orfenio's rebeck, began to sing in this wise:</p> - -<p class="p01">N<small>ISIDA</small>.</p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Though my soul is satisfied</span><br /> -With the bliss which is my own,<br /> -'Tis in part racked and undone<br /> -By another's bliss denied;<br /> -Fortune scant and Love bestow—<br /> -Enemies unto my pleasure—<br /> -On me bliss in niggard measure,<br /> -And unmeasured endless woe.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_198"></a>[Pg 198]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the state by Love befriended</span><br /> -Although merit may abound,<br /> -Pleasure is as lonely found,<br /> -E'en as evil comes attended;<br /> -Evils aye in unity<br /> -Walk, nor for a moment sever,<br /> -Blisses are divided ever<br /> -That their end may sooner be.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">What it costeth to attain</span><br /> -Any joy of love so fair,<br /> -Let our love and hope declare,<br /> -And our patience make it plain;<br /> -One bliss untold agony<br /> -Costeth, one joy untold sighs—<br /> -Ah! they know it well, my sighs<br /> -And my wearied memory.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Which forever hath in mind</span><br /> -That which power to help it hath<br /> -Yet to find it, road or path<br /> -Nowhere doth the memory find;<br /> -Ah! sweet friend of that fair youth<br /> -Who did call thee friend, when he<br /> -Claimed the name of friend from thee,<br /> -E'en as I am his in truth!</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Our unthought-of happiness</span><br /> -Groweth better when thou'rt near,<br /> -Let not thy cruel absence drear<br /> -Turn it to unhappiness;<br /> -Anguish sore the memory<br /> -Rouseth, that reminds me how<br /> -I was wise, and foolish thou,<br /> -Thou art wise, and foolish I.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">More he lost in losing thee—</span><br /> -He to whom, fortune thy guide,<br /> -Thou didst give me as his bride—<br /> -Than he won in winning me;<br /> -Half his soul in thee he had,<br /> -Thou wert he, by whom my soul<br /> -Could attain the happy goal<br /> -That thine absence maketh sad.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">If the exquisite grace with which the fair Nisida was singing, -caused admiration in those who were with her, what would -it cause in the breast of Silerio, who, without missing anything, -noted and listened to all the details of her song? -And as he retained Nisida's voice so well in his soul, its accents<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_199"></a>[Pg 199]</span> -scarce began to resound in his ears when he came to be perturbed, -and amazed and to be beside himself, enraptured by -what he heard. And though truly it seemed to him that it -was Nisida's voice, he had so lost the hope of seeing her, and -above all in such a place, that in no way could he make sure of -his suspicion. In this manner all came to where he was; and -Thyrsis, greeting him, said to him:</p> - -<p>'You left us, friend Silerio, so attracted by your disposition -and converse, that Damon and I, drawn by experience of them, -and all this company by their fame, leaving the way we were -taking, have come to seek you in your hermitage, and when we -did not find you there, as we did not, our desire would have -remained unfulfilled, had not the sound of your harp and of your -admirable song guided us here.'</p> - -<p>'Far better had it been, sirs,' replied Silerio, 'that you had -not found me, since in me you will find naught save occasions to -move you to sadness, for the sadness I endure in my soul time -takes care each day to renew, not only with the memory of the -past happiness, but with the shadows of the present, which at -last will be so indeed, since from my fortune naught else can be -hoped for, save feigned happiness and certain fear.'</p> - -<p>Silerio's words caused pity in all who knew him, especially in -Timbrio, Nisida, and Blanca, who loved him so much, and they -would straightway have let themselves be known by him had it -not been that it would be deviating from what Thyrsis had -bidden them. He made them all sit down on the green grass, -and in such a way that the rays of the bright moon should strike -the faces of Nisida and Blanca from behind, in order that Silerio -might not recognise them. Being then in this fashion, and after -Damon had said some words of consolation to Silerio, in order -that the time should not be spent wholly in discoursing on -things of sadness, and to make a beginning, so that Silerio's -sadness might end, he begged him to play his harp, to the sound -of which Damon himself sang this sonnet:</p> - -<div class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></div> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">If the wild fury of the angry main</span><br /> -Should long time in its ruthlessness endure,<br /> -Whoso should to the storm his vessel, poor<br /> -And frail, entrust, could little comfort gain.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bliss doth not always in one state remain,</span><br /> -Nor woe, but each of them doth fly away,<br /> -For if bliss were to flee, and woe to stay,<br /> -Ere this the world had been confusion plain.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Night follows after day, heat after cold,</span><br /> -After the fruit the flower, and thus we find<br /> -Opposites reconciling everywhere.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Meek slavery is changed to lordship bold,</span><br /> -Pain into pleasure, glory into wind,<br /> -'For nature is by such transformings fair.'</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_200"></a>[Pg 200]</span></p> - -<p class="p01">Damon ceased singing, and straightway beckoned to Timbrio -to sing likewise. He, to the sound of Silerio's harp, began a -sonnet which he had composed in the time of his love's fervour, -which was as well known to Silerio as to Timbrio himself.</p> - - - -<p class="p01">T<small>IMBRIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">My hope is builded on so sure a base</span><br /> -That, though the fiercer blow the ruthless wind,<br /> -It cannot shake the bonds that firmly bind,<br /> -Such faith, such strength, such fortune it displays.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Timbrio could not end the sonnet he had begun, for Silerio's -hearing of his voice and recognition of him took place together, -and, unable to do aught else, he arose from where he was -seated, and went to embrace Timbrio's neck with tokens of -such strange content and surprise, that without speaking a word -he became faint and was for a while without consciousness, -with such grief on the part of those present, who feared some -mishap, that they already condemned as evil Thyrsis's artifice; -but she who showed the most extremes of grief was the fair -Blanca, as the one who tenderly loved him. Straightway -Nisida and her sister came up to give remedy to the swoon of -Silerio, who after a little while came to himself, saying:</p> - -<p>'Oh, mighty Heaven! is it possible that he I have before me -is my true friend Timbrio? Is it Timbrio I hear, is it Timbrio -I see? Yes it is, if my fortune does not mock me, and my eyes -deceive me not.'</p> - -<p>'Neither does your fortune mock you, nor do your eyes -deceive you, my sweet friend,' replied Timbrio, 'for I am he who -without you was not, and he who would never have been, had -Heaven not permitted him to find you. Let your tears now -cease, friend Silerio, if for me you have shed them, since now -you have me here, for I will check mine, since I have you before -me, calling myself the happiest of all that live in the world, -since my misfortunes and adversities have been so discounted -that my soul enjoys the possession of Nisida, and my eyes -your presence.'</p> - -<p>By these words of Timbrio's Silerio knew that she who had -sung, and she who was there, was Nisida; but he was more sure -of it, when she herself said to him:</p> - -<p>'What is this, Silerio mine? What solitude and what garb is -this, which gives such tokens of your discontent? What false -suspicions or what deceptions have brought you to such an -extreme, in order that Timbrio and I might endure the extreme -of grief all our life, being absent from you who gave it to us?'</p> - -<p>'They were deceptions, fair Nisida,' replied Silerio, 'but -because they have brought such ways of undeceiving they will -be celebrated by my memory so long as it shall last in me.'</p> - -<p>For the most of this time Blanca had been holding one of -Silerio's hands, gazing intently on his face, shedding some tears,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_201"></a>[Pg 201]</span> -which gave manifest proof of the joy and pity of her heart. It -would be long to relate the words of love and content that -passed between Silerio, Timbrio, Nisida, and Blanca, which -were so tender and of such a kind, that all the shepherds who -heard them had their eyes bathed in tears of joy. Straightway -Silerio related briefly the cause that had moved him to withdraw -to that hermitage, with the thought of ending therein his life, -since of theirs he had not been able to learn any news; and all -that he said was the means of kindling yet more in Timbrio's -breast the love and friendship he had for Silerio, and in Blanca's -friendship for his misery. And so when Silerio finished relating -what had happened to him after he left Naples, he asked -Timbrio to do the same, for he desired it extremely; saying that -he should not be afraid of the shepherds who were present, for -all or most of them already knew his great friendship and part -of his adventures. Timbrio was delighted to do what Silerio -asked, and the shepherds, who likewise desired it, were more -delighted; for seeing that Thyrsis had told it to them, all knew -already the love-affair of Timbrio and Nisida, and all that which -Thyrsis himself had heard from Silerio. All then being seated, -as I have already said, on the green grass, they were awaiting -with wondrous attention what Timbrio would say, and he said:</p> - -<p>'After fortune was so favourable to me and so adverse, that it -allowed me to conquer my enemy and conquered me by the -consternation of the false news of Nisida's death, with such -sorrow as can be imagined, at that very moment I left for -Naples, and Nisida's unlucky fate being confirmed there, so as -not to see her father's house, where I had seen her, and in order -that the streets, windows, and other spots where I was wont to -see her, might not continually renew in me the memory of my -past happiness, without knowing what way to take, without my -will following any course, I went from the city, and in two days -came to strong Gaeta, where I found a ship which was just on -the point of unfurling its sails to the wind to leave for Spain; I -embarked on it, only to flee from the hateful land where I was -leaving my heaven. But scarcely had the busy sailors weighed -anchor and spread their sails, and put out some distance to -sea, when there arose a sudden and unthought-of tempest, and a -squall of wind smote the ship's sails with such fury that it broke the -foremast and split the mizzen sail from top to bottom. Straightway -the ready sailors came to the rescue and with the greatest -difficulty furled all the sails, for the tempest was increasing, and -the sea was beginning to rise, and the sky was giving signs of a -long and fearful storm. It was not possible to return to port, -for the wind which blew was the mistral, and with such great -violence that it was necessary to set the foresail on the mainmast, -and to ease her, as they say, by the stern, letting her drive -where the wind might will. And so the ship, driven by its fury,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_202"></a>[Pg 202]</span> -began to run with such speed over the stormy sea, that in the two -days the mistral lasted, we ran by all the islands in that course, -without being able to take shelter in any, passing always in -sight of them, without Stromboli sheltering us, or Lipari receiving -us, or Cimbalo, Lampadosa, or Pantanalea serving for our -aid; and we passed so near to Barbary that the recently -destroyed walls of the Goleta were revealed and the ancient ruins -of Carthage showed themselves. Not small was the alarm of -those on board the ship, who feared that if the wind became -somewhat stronger, they must needs be driven on a hostile -coast; but when they were most in fear of this, fate, which was -keeping a better one in store for us, or Heaven which heard the -vows and promises made there, ordained that the mistral should -be changed into a south wind which was so strong—and which -touched on the quarter of the sirocco,—that in another two days -it brought us back to the very port of Gaeta from which we had -started, with such relief to all that some set out to fulfil the -pilgrimages and promises they had made in the past danger. -The ship remained there, being refitted with some things she -required, for another four days, at the end of which she resumed -her voyage in a calmer sea and with a favourable wind, keeping -in sight the fair coast of Genoa, full of gay gardens, white houses, -and gleaming pinnacles, which, being struck by the sun's rays, -flash with such burning rays that they can scarcely be looked -at. All these things which were being seen from the ship, -might have caused content, as indeed they did to all those who -were on board the ship, except to me, for to me they were the cause -of greater sorrow. The only relief I had was to occupy myself -in lamenting my woes, singing them, or, let me say rather, -bewailing them to the sound of a lute belonging to one of the -sailors; and one night I remember—and indeed it is well that I -should remember, since then my day began to dawn,—that, the sea -being calm, the winds still, the sails fixed to the mast, and the -sailors without any care lying stretched in different parts of the -ship, and the helmsman almost asleep by reason of the fair -weather there was, and that which the sky promised, in the -midst of this silence and in the midst of my fancies, as my griefs -did not suffer me to yield my eyes to sleep, seated on the -poop, I took the lute, and began to sing some verses, which -I must now repeat, in order that it may be noted from what -extreme of sadness, and how without thinking it, fate led me -to the greatest extreme of joy imaginable; this, if I remember -right, was what I sang:</p> - -<p class="p01">T<small>IMBRIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Now that silent is the wind</span><br /> -And the peaceful sea at rest,<br /> -Let my pain no silence find,<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_203"></a>[Pg 203]</span> -For my grieving from my breast<br /> -Issue soul with voice conjoined;<br /> -To recount wherefore I grieve,<br /> -Showing that my grief in part<br /> -Comes perforce, the soul must give<br /> -Tokens, and likewise the heart,<br /> -Of the deadly pangs that live.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Once Love bore me off in flight</span><br /> -Through the ranks of bitter woe,<br /> -Raising me to Heaven's height:<br /> -Death and Love to earth below<br /> -Now have hurled this hapless wight;<br /> -Love and death it was ordained<br /> -Such a love and death as this,<br /> -O'er sweet Nisida they reigned,<br /> -From her woe and from my bliss<br /> -Fame unending they attained.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">With new voice, more terrible</span><br /> -Henceforth, and with awesome sound,<br /> -Fame will make it credible<br /> -That Love is a champion found<br /> -And death is invincible;<br /> -Satisfied the world will be<br /> -At their might, whene'er it knows<br /> -How the twain have wrought in me:<br /> -Death her glorious life did close,<br /> -Love my bosom holds in fee.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">But I think, since I am brought</span><br /> -Nor to madness nor to death<br /> -By the anguish they have wrought,<br /> -That death little power hath,<br /> -Or that feeling I have not;<br /> -For if I but feeling had,<br /> -So the increasing anguish strives<br /> -Everywhere to drive me mad,<br /> -Though I had a thousand lives,<br /> -Countless times had I been dead.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">My surpassing victory</span><br /> -By the death was famous made<br /> -Of the life, which needs must be<br /> -Chief of all the past displayed<br /> -Or the present age can see;<br /> -Therefrom I achieved as prize<br /> -Grief within my loving heart,<br /> -Countless tears within my eyes,<br /> -In my soul confusion's smart,<br /> -In my true breast agonies.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_204"></a>[Pg 204]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Cruel hand of him my foe,</span><br /> -Hadst thou but my doom fulfilled,<br /> -I had held thee friend, for, lo!<br /> -In the slaying thou hadst stilled<br /> -All the anguish of my woe!<br /> -What a bitter reckoning<br /> -Victory brought, for I shall pay—<br /> -And I feel it as I sing—<br /> -For the pleasure of a day<br /> -With an age-long suffering!</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sea, that hearkenest to my cry,</span><br /> -Heaven, that didst my woe ordain,<br /> -Love, that causest me to sigh,<br /> -Death, that hast my glory ta'en,<br /> -End ye now my agony!<br /> -Sea, my lifeless corse receive,<br /> -Heaven, to my soul grant thy calm,<br /> -Love, to fame the tidings give,<br /> -That death carried off the palm<br /> -From this life that doth not live!</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Heaven, Love, and death and sea,</span><br /> -Now to aid me linger not,<br /> -Make an end of ending me,<br /> -For 'twill be the happiest lot<br /> -Ye can give and I foresee!<br /> -If sea doth not drowning give,<br /> -And Heaven welcome doth deny,<br /> -If Love must for ever live,<br /> -And I fear I shall not die,<br /> -Where can I repose receive?</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">'I remember that I came to these last verses I have repeated, -when, without being able to proceed further, interrupted by -countless sighs and sobs which I sent forth from my hapless -breast, afflicted by the memory of my misfortunes, from merely -feeling them I came to lose my senses by such a paroxysm that -for a good while it held me unconscious; but after the bitter -attack had passed, I opened my wearied eyes and found my -head lying in the lap of a woman, dressed in pilgrim's attire, -and at my side was another, decked in the same garb, who was -holding my hands whilst both wept tenderly. When I saw myself -in that position, I was amazed and confused, and was -doubting whether it was a vision I saw, for never had I seen -such women in the ship since I had gone on board. But the -fair Nisida here—for she was the pilgrim who was there—drew -me from this confusion, saying to me: "Ah, Timbrio, my true -lord and friend, what false fancies or what luckless accidents<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_205"></a>[Pg 205]</span> -have caused you to be placed where you now are, and my sister -and me to take such little account of what we owed to our -honour, and without heeding any difficulty to have wished -to leave our beloved parents and our wonted garb, with the -intention of looking for you and of undeceiving you about my -so doubtful death which might have caused yours in reality?" -When I heard such words, I became quite convinced that I was -dreaming, and that it was some vision I had before my eyes, and -that my ceaseless thoughts that did not depart from Nisida -were the cause that represented her there to my eyes alive. A -thousand questions I asked them and in all they completely -satisfied me, before I could calm my understanding and -assure myself that they were Nisida and Blanca. But when I -came to learn the truth, the joy I felt was such that it, too, well-nigh -brought me to the pass of losing my life as the past grief -had done. Then I learned from Nisida how your mistake and -neglect, oh Silerio, in making the signal of the kerchief, was the -cause why she, believing that some ill had befallen me, fell into -such a swoon and faint, that all believed her to be dead, as I -thought, and you, Silerio, believed. She also told me how, after -coming to herself, she learned the truth of my victory together -with my sudden and hasty departure, and your absence, the -news of which brought her to the verge of making true that of -her death; but as it did not bring her to the last extreme, it -caused her and her sister, by the artifice of a nurse of theirs -who came with them, to dress themselves in the attire of pilgrims, -and in disguise to go away from their parents one night -when they were approaching Gaeta on the return they were -making to Naples. And it was at the time when the ship on -which I had embarked, having been repaired after the storm -which had passed, was on the point of departing; and telling -the captain they wished to cross over to Spain to go to Santiago -of Galicia, they agreed with him and embarked with the intention -of coming to seek me at Xeres, where they thought to find -me or to learn some news of me; and all the time they had -been in the ship, which would be four days, they had not left a -cabin which the captain had given them in the stern, until, -hearing me sing the verses I have repeated to you, and recognising -me by the voice, and by what I said in them, they came -out at the moment I have told you, when, celebrating with -joyous tears the happiness of having found one another, -we were looking at one another, without knowing with -what words to increase our new and unexpected joy, which -would have grown the greater, and would have reached -the point and pass it has now reached, if we had then -known any news of you, friend Silerio. But, as there is no -pleasure which comes so perfect as wholly to satisfy the heart, -in that we then felt, there was wanting to us, not only your<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_206"></a>[Pg 206]</span> -presence, but even news of it. The brightness of the night, the -cool and pleasing wind (which favouring and gentle at that -moment began to strike the sails), the calm sea and the cloudless -sky, it seems, all together, and each by itself, helped to -celebrate the joy of our hearts. But fickle fortune, from whose -disposition one can make sure of no stability, envious of our -happiness, chose to disturb it by the greatest mishap that could -have been imagined, had not time and favouring circumstances -turned it to a better issue. It happened then that at the time -the wind began to freshen, the busy sailors hoisted all the sails -higher and assured themselves of a safe and prosperous voyage -to the general joy of all. One of them, who was seated on one -side of the bow, discovered by the brightness of the moon's low -rays, that four rowing vessels with long-drawn-out stroke were -approaching the ship with great speed and haste, and at the -moment he knew that they were an enemy's, and with loud cries -began to shout: "To arms, to arms, for Turkish vessels are in -sight!" This cry and sudden alarm caused such panic in all -the crew of the ship, that, without being able to take thought for -the approaching danger, they looked at one another; but its -captain (who had sometimes seen himself in similar circumstances), -coming to the bow, sought to learn how large the -vessels were and how many, and he discovered two more than -the sailor, and recognised that they were galliots with slave -crews, whereat he must needs have felt no small fear. But, -dissembling as best he could, he straightway ordered the guns -to be prepared and the sails to be trimmed as much as -possible to meet the opposing vessels so as to see if he -could go between them and let the guns play on every -side. Straightway all rushed to arms, and, dispersed at -their posts, as well as could be, awaited the coming of the -enemy. Who will be able to express to you, sirs, the pain -I felt at this moment, seeing my happiness disturbed with such -quickness, and myself so near the chance of losing it, and the -more when I saw Nisida and Blanca looking at each other -without speaking a word, confused by the uproar and shouting -there was in the ship, and seeing myself asking them to shut -themselves up in their cabin and pray to God to deliver us -from the enemy's hands? This was a situation which makes the -imagination faint when the memory recalls it; their open tears, -and the violence I did myself so as not to show mine, held me -in such a way that I had almost forgotten what I ought to do, -who I was, and what the danger required. But at last I made -them withdraw almost fainting to their cabin, and shutting them -in from outside, hastened to see what the captain was ordering. -He with prudent care was providing everything necessary for -the emergency, and entrusting to Darinto, the gentleman who -left us to-day, the guard of the forecastle, and handing over<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_207"></a>[Pg 207]</span> -to me the poop, he with some sailors and passengers -hurried through all the waist of the ship from one part to -another. The enemy did not delay much in approaching, and -the wind delayed rather less in growing calm, which was the -complete cause of our ruin. The enemy did not dare to board, -for, seeing that the weather was growing calm, it seemed to them -better to wait for the day in order to attack us. They did so, -and, when the day came, though we had already counted them, -we saw finally that it was fifteen big vessels that had surrounded -us, and then the fear of being lost was at once confirmed in our -breasts. Nevertheless, the valiant captain, not losing heart—nor -did any of those who were with him,—waited to see what -the enemy would do. They, as soon as morning came, lowered -a boat from their flagship, and sent by a renegade to tell our -captain to surrender, since he saw he could not defend himself -against so many vessels, and the more so that they were all the -best in Algiers, threatening him on behalf of Arnaut Mami, his -general, that if the ship discharged a single piece, he would -hang him from a yard-arm when he caught him, and the renegade, -adding to these other threats, urged him to surrender. But the -captain, not wishing to do so, told the renegade in reply to sheer -off from the ship or he would send him to the bottom with the -guns. Arnaut heard this reply, and straightway priming the -guns of his ship everywhere, began to play them from a distance -with such speed, fury, and din, that it was a marvel. Our ship -began to do the same with such good fortune that she sent to -the bottom one of the vessels that were attacking her at the -stern, for she hit her with a ball close to the harpings, in such a -manner that the sea swallowed her without receiving any succour. -The Turks, seeing this, hurried on the fight, and in four hours -attacked us four times and as many times retired with great loss -on their part, and no small loss on ours. But, not to weary you -by relating to you in detail the things that happened in this fight, -I will only say that after we had fought sixteen hours, and after -our captain and nearly all the crew of the ship had perished, at -the end of nine assaults they made upon us, at the last they -furiously boarded the ship. Though I should wish, yet I cannot -exaggerate the grief that came to my soul when I saw that my -beloved darlings whom now I have before me, must needs then -be handed over to, and come into the power of those cruel -butchers; and so, carried away by the wrath this fear and thought -caused in me, I rushed with unarmed breast through the midst -of the barbarous swords, desirous of dying from the cruelty of -their edge, rather than to see with my eyes what I expected. -But things came to pass differently from what I had feared, -for, three stalwart Turks grappling with me, and I struggling -with them, we all fell up confusedly against the door of -the cabin where Nisida and Blanca were, and with the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_208"></a>[Pg 208]</span> -force of the blow the door was broken open, displaying -the treasure that was there enclosed. The enemy lusting -after it, one of them seized Nisida and the other Blanca; -and I, seeing myself free from the two made the other who -held me leave his life at my feet, and I thought to do the -same with the two, had they not, warned of the danger, given -up their hold of the two ladies and stretched me on the floor with -two great wounds. Nisida, seeing this, threw herself upon my -wounded body and with lamentable cries begged the two Turks -to finish her. At this moment, drawn by the cries and laments -of Nisida and Blanca, Arnaut, the general of the vessels, hurried -up to the cabin, and, learning from the soldiers what was going -on, had Nisida and Blanca carried to his galley, and at Nisida's -prayer also gave orders for them to carry me thither, since I was -not yet dead. In this manner, without my being conscious, they -carried me to the enemy's flagship, where I was straightway -tended with some diligence, for Nisida had told the captain that -I was a man of rank and of great ransom, with the intention that, -tempted by the bait of covetousness and of the money they -might get from me, they should look after my health with somewhat -more care. It happened then, that, as my wounds were -being tended, I returned to consciousness with the pain of them, -and turning my eyes in every direction, I knew I was in the -power of my enemies, and in the enemy's vessel; but nothing -touched my soul so much as to see at the stern of the galley -Nisida and Blanca sitting at the feet of the dog of a general, shedding -from their eyes countless tears, the tokens of the inward -grief they were suffering. Neither the fear of the shameful death -I was awaiting when you, good friend Silerio, in Catalonia freed -me from it; neither the false tidings of Nisida's death, believed -by me as true; neither the pain of my deadly wounds, nor any -other affliction I might imagine, caused me, nor will cause more -anguish than that which came to me at seeing Nisida and -Blanca in the power of that barbarous unbeliever, where their -honour was placed in such imminent and manifest peril. The -pain of this anguish worked so much upon my soul that I once -again lost my senses, and took away the hope of my health and -life from the surgeon who was tending me, in such a manner that -believing I was dead, he stopped in the midst of his tending of -me, assuring all that I had already passed from this life. When -this news was heard by the two hapless sisters, let them say what -they felt, if they make so bold, for I can only say that I afterwards -learned that the two, rising from where they were, tearing -their ruddy locks, and scratching their fair faces, without anyone -being able to hold them back, came to where I lay in a faint, -and there began to make so piteous a lament, that they moved -to compassion the very breasts of the cruel barbarians. By -reason of Nisida's tears which were falling on my face, or<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_209"></a>[Pg 209]</span> -through the wounds already cold and swollen which caused me -great pain, I returned again to consciousness, to be conscious of -my new misfortune. I will pass in silence now the piteous and -loving words that in that hapless moment passed between Nisida -and myself, so as not to sadden so much the joyous moment in -which we now find ourselves, nor do I wish to relate in detail the -dire straits she told me she had passed through with the captain. -He, overcome by her beauty, made her a thousand promises, a -thousand gifts, a thousand threats, that she might come to -submit to his lawless will; but showing herself towards him as -scornful as modest, and as modest as scornful, she was able all -that day and the following night to defend herself from the hateful -importunities of the corsair. But as Nisida's continued -presence went on increasing in him every moment his lustful -desire, without any doubt it might have been feared, as I did -fear, that by his abandoning his prayers and using violence, -Nisida might lose her honour or life, the latter being the likelier -to be expected from her virtue. But fortune, being now weary -of having placed us in the lowest stage of misery, chose to show -us that what is published abroad of her instability is true, by a -means which brought us to the pass of praying Heaven to keep -us in that hapless lot, instead of losing our lives on the swollen -billows of the angry sea: which after two days that we were -captives, and at the time we were taking the direct course to -Barbary, moved by a furious sirocco, began to rise mountains -high, and to lash the pirate fleet with such fury, that the wearied -oarsmen, without being able to avail themselves of the oars, -bridled them and had recourse to the wonted remedy of the -foresail on the mast, and of letting themselves run wherever the -wind and sea listed. And the tempest increased in such a -manner that in less than half an hour it scattered and dispersed -the vessels in different directions, without any of them being -able to give heed to following their captain, but rather in a little -while, all being separated as I have said, our vessel came to be -left alone, and to be the one that danger threatened most; for -she began to make so much water through her seams, that however -much they bailed her in all the cabins at the stern, bow, -and mizzen, the water in the bilge all the time reached the -knee. And to all this misfortune was added the approach of -night, which in such cases, more than in any others, increases -dread fear; and it came with such darkness and renewed tempestuousness, -that we all wholly despaired of help. Seek not -to learn more, sirs, save that the very Turks begged the -Christians, who were captives at the oar, to invoke and call on -their saints and their Christ, to deliver them from such misfortune, -and the prayers of the wretched Christians who were -there were not so much in vain that high Heaven moved by -them let the wind grow calm, nay rather it increased it with such<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_210"></a>[Pg 210]</span> -force and fury, that at break of day, which could only be told by -the hours of the sand-glass by which they are measured, the -ill-steered vessel found herself off the coast of Catalonia, so near -land, and so unable to get away from it, that it was necessary to -hoist the sail a little higher, in order that she might drive with -more force upon a wide beach which offered itself to us in front; -for the love of life made the slavery the Turks expected appear -sweet to them. Scarcely had the galley driven ashore, when -straightway there hurried down to the beach a number of people -armed, whose dress and speech showed them to be Catalans, -and the coast to be Catalonia, and even the very spot where at -the risk of yours, friend Silerio, you saved my life. Who could -exaggerate now the joy of the Christians, who saw their necks -free and relieved from the unbearable and heavy yoke of bitter -captivity; and the prayers and entreaties the Turks, free a little -while before, made to their own slaves, begging them to see -that they were not ill-treated by the angry Christians, who were -already awaiting them on the beach, with the desire of avenging -the wrong these very Turks had done them, in sacking their -town, as you, Silerio, know? And the fear they had did not -turn out vain for them, for the people of the place, entering the -galley which lay stranded on the sand, wrought such cruel havoc -on the corsairs that very few were left with life; and had it not -been that the greedy desire of sacking the galley blinded them, -all the Turks had been killed in this first onslaught. Finally -the Turks who remained, and we captive Christians who came -there, were all plundered; and if the clothes I wore had not -been stained with blood, I believe they would not have left me -even them. Darinto who was also there, helped straightway -to look after Nisida and Blanca, and to see that I might be -taken ashore to be tended there. When I came out and recognised -the place where I was, and considered the danger in -which I had seen myself there, it did not fail to give me some -anxiety, caused by the fear of being known and punished for -what I ought not to be; and so I begged Darinto to arrange for -us to go to Barcelona without making any delay, telling him the -cause that moved me to it. But it was not possible, for my -wounds distressed me in such a way that they forced me to be -there for some days, as I was, without being visited save by a -surgeon. In the meantime Darinto went to Barcelona, whence he -returned, providing himself with what we needed; and, as he found -me better and stronger, we straightway took the road for the city -of Toledo, to learn of Nisida's kinsmen if they knew of her parents, -to whom we have already written all the late events of our lives, -asking forgiveness for our past errors. And all the happiness -and grief from these good and evil events has been increased -and diminished by your absence, Silerio. But since Heaven has -now, with such great blessings, given a remedy to our calamities,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_211"></a>[Pg 211]</span> -there remains naught else save that you, friend Silerio, should -render it fitting thanks therefor, and banish the past sadness by -reason of the present joy, and endeavour to give it to one who -for many days has for your sake lived without it, as you shall -learn when we are more alone, and I acquaint you therewith. -There remain some other things for me to tell, which have -happened to me in the course of this my journey; but I must -leave them for the nonce, so as not, by reason of their tediousness, -to displease these shepherds, who have been the instrument -of all my delight and pleasure. This, then, friend Silerio -and shepherd friends, is the issue of my life. Mark if, from the -life I have gone through and from that I go through now, I can -call myself the most ill-starred and the happiest man of those -that are living to-day.'</p> - -<p>With these last words the joyful Timbrio ended his tale, and -all those that were present rejoiced at the happy issue his toils -had had, Silerio's content passing beyond all that can be said. -He, turning anew to embrace Timbrio, and constrained by the -desire to learn who the person was that for his sake lived without -content, begged leave of the shepherds, and went apart with -Timbrio on one side, where he learned from him that the fair -Blanca, Nisida's sister, was the one who loved him more than -herself, from the very day and moment she learned who he was -and the worth of his character, and that, so as not to go -against what she owed to her honour, she had never wished to -reveal this thought except to her sister, by whose agency she -hoped to have honoured him in the fulfilment of her desires. -Timbrio likewise told him how the gentleman Darinto, who -came with him and of whom he had made mention in his late -discourse, knowing who Blanca was, and carried away by her -beauty, had fallen in love with her so earnestly that he asked -her from her sister Nisida as his wife, and she undeceived him -saying that Blanca would by no means consent; and that Darinto -being angry thereat, believing that they rejected him for his -little worth, Nisida, in order to free him from this suspicion, had -to tell him how Blanca had her thoughts busied with Silerio; -but that Darinto had not turned faint-hearted on this account, -nor abandoned his purpose—'for as he knew that no news was -known of you, Silerio, he fancied that the services he thought to -render to Blanca, and the lapse of time, would make her desist -from her first intention. And with this motive he would never -leave us, until hearing yesterday from the shepherds sure tidings -of your life, knowing the happiness that Blanca had felt thereat, -and considering it to be impossible that Darinto could gain what -he desired when Silerio appeared, he went away from all, without -taking leave of anyone, with tokens of the greatest grief.'</p> - -<p>Together with this Timbrio counselled his friend to be content -that Blanca was to have him, choosing her and accepting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_212"></a>[Pg 212]</span> -her as wife, since he already knew her and was not ignorant -of her worth and modesty; and he dwelt on the joy and pleasure -they both would have seeing themselves wedded to two such -sisters. Silerio asked him in reply to give him time to think -about this action, though he knew that in the end it was impossible -not to do what he bade him. At this moment the white -dawn was already beginning to give tokens of its new approach, -and the stars were gradually hiding their brightness; and at -this point there came to the ears of all the voice of the love-sick -Lauso, who, as his friend Damon had known that they must -needs spend that night in Silerio's hermitage, wished to be with -him, and with the other shepherds. And as it was all his pleasure -and pastime to sing to the sound of his rebeck the prosperous or -adverse issue of his love, carried away by his mood, and invited -by the solitude of the road and by the delicious harmony of the -birds, who were already beginning to greet the coming day with -their sweet concerted song, he came singing in a low voice -verses such as these:</p> - -<div class="p01">L<small>AUSO.</small></div> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">I lift my gaze unto the noblest part</span><br /> -That can be fancied by the loving thought,<br /> -Where I behold the worth, admire the art<br /> -That hath the loftiest mind to rapture brought;<br /> -But if ye fain would learn what was the part<br /> -That my free neck within its fierce yoke caught,<br /> -That made me captive, claims me as its prize,<br /> -Mine eyes it is, Silena, and thine eyes.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thine eyes it is, from whose clear light I gain</span><br /> -The light that unto Heaven guideth me,<br /> -Of the celestial light a token plain,<br /> -Light that abhorreth all obscurity;<br /> -It makes the fire, the yoke, and e'en the chain,<br /> -That burns me, burdens, and afflicts, to be<br /> -Relief and comfort to the soul, a Heaven<br /> -Unto the life the soul hath to thee given.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh eyes divine! my soul's joy and delight,</span><br /> -The end and mark to which my wishes go,<br /> -Eyes, that, if I see aught, have given me sight,<br /> -Eyes that have made the murky day to glow;<br /> -My anguish and my gladness in your light<br /> -Love set; in you I contemplate and know<br /> -The bitter, sweet, and yet the truthful story<br /> -Of certain hell, of my uncertain glory.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">In darkness blind I walked, when I no more</span><br /> -Was guided by your light, oh eyes so fair!<br /> -No more I saw the heavens, but wandered o'er<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_213"></a>[Pg 213]</span>The world, 'midst thorns and brambles everywhere;<br /> -But at the very moment when the power<br /> -Of your bright clustered rays my soul laid bare,<br /> -And touched it to the quick, I saw quite plain<br /> -The path that leads to bliss, open and plain.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ye, ye, it is, and shall be, cloudless eyes,</span><br /> -That do and can uplift me thus to claim<br /> -Amongst the little number of the wise,<br /> -As best I can, a high renownèd name;<br /> -This ye can do, if ye my enemies<br /> -Remain no longer, nor account it shame<br /> -Sometimes a glance to cast me, for in this—<br /> -Glancing and glances—lies a lover's bliss.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">If this be true, Silena, none hath been,</span><br /> -Nor is, nor will be, who with constancy<br /> -Can or will love thee, as I love my queen,<br /> -However Love his aid, and fortune, be;<br /> -I have deserved this glory—to be seen<br /> -By thee—for my unbroken loyalty.<br /> -'Tis folly, though, to think that one can win<br /> -That which one scarce can contemplate therein.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">The love-sick Lauso ended his song and his journey at the -same moment, and he was lovingly received by all who were -with Silerio, increasing by his presence the joy all had by -reason of the fair issue Silerio's troubles had had; and, as -Damon was telling them to him, there appeared close to the -hermitage the venerable Aurelio, who, with some of his shepherds, -was bringing some dainties wherewith to regale and -satisfy those who were there, as he had promised the day before -he left them. Thyrsis and Damon were astonished to see him -come without Elicio and Erastro, and they were more so when -they came to know the cause why they had stayed behind. -Aurelio approached, and his approach would have increased the -more the happiness of all, if he had not said, directing his -words to Timbrio:</p> - -<p>'If you prize yourself, as it is right you should prize yourself, -valiant Timbrio, as being a true friend of him who is yours, now -is the time to show it, by hurrying to tend Darinto, who, no -great distance from here, is so sad and afflicted and so far from -accepting any consolation in the grief he suffers that some -words of consolation I gave him did not suffice for him to take -them as such. Elicio, Erastro, and I found him, some two -hours ago in the midst of yonder mountain which reveals itself -on this our right hand, his horse tied by the reins to a pine tree, -and himself stretched on the ground face downwards, uttering -tender and mournful sighs, and from time to time he spoke -some words which were directed to curse his fortune. And at<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_214"></a>[Pg 214]</span> -the piteous sound of them we approached him, and by the -moon's rays, though with difficulty, he was recognised by us and -pressed to tell us the cause of his woe. He told it to us, and -thereby we learned the little remedy he had. Nevertheless -Elicio and Erastro have remained with him, and I have come -to give you the news of the plight in which his thoughts hold -him; and since they are so manifest to you, seek to remedy -them with deeds, or hasten to console them with words.'</p> - -<p>'Words, good Aurelio,' replied Timbrio, 'will be all I shall -spend thereon, if indeed he is not willing to avail himself of the -occasion to undeceive himself and to dispose his desires so that -time and absence may work in him their wonted effects; but, -that he may not think that I do not respond to what I owe to -his friendship, tell me, Aurelio, where you left him, for I wish to -go at once to see him.'</p> - -<p>'I will go with you,' replied Aurelio, and straightway at the -moment all the shepherds arose to accompany Timbrio and to -learn the cause of Darinto's woe, leaving Silerio with Nisida -and Blanca to the happiness of the three, which was so great -that they did not succeed in uttering a word. On the way from -there to where Aurelio had left Darinto, Timbrio told those -who went with him the cause of Darinto's sorrow, and the little -remedy that might be hoped for it, since the fair Blanca, for -whom he was sorrowing, had her thoughts set on her good -friend Silerio, saying to them likewise that he must needs strive -with all his skill and powers that Silerio might grant what -Blanca desired, and begging them all to help and favour his -purpose, for, on leaving Darinto, he wished them all to ask -Silerio to consent to receive Blanca as his lawful wife. The -shepherds offered to do what he bade them; and during these -discourses they came to where Aurelio believed Elicio, Darinto, -and Erastro would be; but they did not find anyone, though they -skirted and covered a great part of a small wood which was there, -whereat they felt no little sorrow. But, while in it, they heard -a sigh so mournful that it set them in confusion and in the desire -to learn who had uttered it; but they were quickly drawn from -this doubt by another which they heard no less sad than the -former, and all hurrying to the spot whence the sigh came, saw -not far from them at the foot of a tall walnut tree two shepherds, -one seated on the green grass, and the other stretched on the -ground, his head placed on the other's knees. The one seated -had his head bent down, shedding tears and gazing intently on -him whom he had on his knees, and, for this reason, as also -because the other had lost his colour and was of pallid countenance, -they were not able at once to know who he was; but -when they came nearer, they knew at once that the shepherds -were Elicio and Erastro, Elicio the pallid one, and Erastro the -one that wept. The sad appearance of the two hapless shep<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_215"></a>[Pg 215]</span>herds -caused great wonder and sadness in all who came there, -because they were great friends of theirs, and because they did -not know the cause that held them in such wise; but he that wondered -most was Aurelio, because he said that he had left them -so recently in Darinto's company with tokens of all pleasure -and happiness, so that apparently he had not been the cause of -all their misery. Erastro then seeing that the shepherds were -coming to him, shook Elicio, saying to him:</p> - -<p>'Come to yourself, hapless shepherd, arise, and seek a spot -where you can by yourself bewail your misfortune, for I think to -do the same until life ends.'</p> - -<p>And saying this he took in his two hands Elicio's head and, -putting it off his knees, set it on the ground, without the shepherd -being able to return to consciousness; and Erastro, rising, -was turning his back to go away, had not Thyrsis and Damon -and the other shepherds, kept him from it. Damon went to -where Elicio was, and taking him in his arms, made him come -to himself. Elicio opened his eyes, and, because he knew all -who were there, he took care that his tongue, moved and constrained -by grief, should not say anything that might declare -the cause of it: and, though this was asked of him by all the shepherds, -he never gave any answer save that he knew naught of -himself but that, as he was speaking with Erastro, a severe -fainting fit had seized him. Erastro said the same, and for this -reason the shepherds ceased to ask him further the reason of his -affliction, but rather they asked him to return with them to -Silerio's hermitage and to let them take him thence to the village -or to his hut: but it was not possible for them to prevail with -him in this beyond letting him return to the village. Seeing then -that this was his desire, they did not wish to oppose it, but -rather offered to go with him, but he wished no one's company, -nor would he have accepted it, had not his friend Damon's persistence -overcome him, and so he had to depart with him, -Damon having agreed with Thyrsis to see each other that night in -the village or Elicio's hut, in order to arrange to return to theirs. -Aurelio and Timbrio asked Erastro for Darinto, and he told -them in reply that as soon as Aurelio had left them the fainting -fit had seized Elicio, and whilst he was tending to him, Darinto -had departed with all haste, and they had seen him no more. -Timbrio and those who came with him, seeing then that they did -not find Darinto, determined to return to the hermitage and -beg Silerio to accept the fair Blanca as his wife; and with this -intention they all returned except Erastro, who wished to follow -his friend Elicio; and so, taking leave of them, accompanied -only by his rebeck, he went away by the same road Elicio had -gone. The latter, having gone some distance away with his friend -Damon from the rest of the company, with tears in his eyes, and -with tokens of the greatest sadness, began to speak to him thus:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_216"></a>[Pg 216]</span></p> - -<p>'I know well, discreet Damon, that you have so much experience -of love's effects that you will not wonder at what I now -think to tell you, for they are such that in the reckoning of my -judgment I count them and hold them among the most disastrous -that are found in love.'</p> - -<p>Damon who desired nothing else than to learn the cause of -his fainting and sadness, assured him that nothing would be -new to him, if it touched on the evils love is wont to cause. -And so Elicio with this assurance and with the assurance yet -greater he had of his friendship, went on, saying:</p> - -<p>'You already know, friend Damon, how my good fortune, for -I will always give it this name of good, though it cost me life to -have had it—I say then, that my good fortune willed, as all Heaven -and all these banks know, that I should love—do I say love?—adore -the peerless Galatea with a love as pure and true as befits -her deserving. At the same time I confess to you, friend, that -in all the time she has known my just desire, she has not -responded to it with other tokens save those general ones which -a chaste and grateful breast is wont and ought to give. And so -for some years, my hope being sustained by intercourse both -honourable and loving, I have lived so joyous and satisfied with -my thoughts, that I judged myself the happiest shepherd that -ever pastured flock, contenting myself merely with looking at -Galatea and with seeing that if she did not love me, she did not -loathe me, and that no other shepherd could boast that he was -even looked at by her, for it was no small satisfaction of my -desire to have set my thoughts on an object so secure that I had -no fear of anyone else, being confirmed in this truth by the -opinion which Galatea's worth inspires in me, which is such -that it gives no opportunity for boldness itself to make bold with -it. Against this good, which love gave me at so little a cost, -against this glory enjoyed so much without harm to Galatea, -against the pleasure so justly deserved by my desire, irrevocable -sentence has to-day been passed, that the good should end, the -glory finish, the pleasure be changed, and that finally the -tragedy of my mournful life should be closed. For you must -know, Damon, that this morning, as I came with Aurelio, -Galatea's father, to seek you at Sileno's hermitage, he told me -on the way how he had arranged to marry Galatea to a Lusitanian -shepherd who pastures numerous herds on the banks of -the gentle Lima. He asked me to tell him what I thought -because, from the friendship he had for me, and from my -understanding, he hoped to be well counselled. What I said to -him in reply was that it seemed to me a hard thing to be able -to bring his will to deprive itself of the sight of so fair a daughter, -banishing her to such distant regions, and that if he did so, -carried away and tempted by the bait of the strange shepherd's -wealth, he should consider that he did not lack it so much that<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_217"></a>[Pg 217]</span> -he was not able to live in his village better than all in it who -claimed to be rich, and that none of the best of those who dwell -on the banks of the Tagus, would fail to count himself fortunate -when he should win Galatea to wife. My words were not ill -received by the venerable Aurelio, but at last he made up his -mind, saying that the chief herdsman of all the flocks bade him -do it,<a id="FNanchor_116" href="#Footnote_116" class="fnanchor">[116]</a> and he it was who had arranged and settled it, and that it -was impossible to withdraw. I asked him with what countenance -Galatea had received the news of her banishment. He -told me that she had conformed to his will and was disposing -hers to do all he wished, like an obedient daughter. This I -learned from Aurelio, and this, Damon, is the cause of my -fainting, and will be that of my death, since at seeing Galatea in -a stranger's power and a stranger to my sight, naught else can -be hoped for save the end of my days.'</p> - -<p>The love-sick Elicio ended his words and his tears began, -shed in such abundance that the breast of his friend Damon, -moved to compassion, could not but accompany him in them. -But after a little while he began with the best reasons he could -to console Elicio, but all his words stopped at being words -without producing any effect. Nevertheless they agreed -that Elicio should speak to Galatea and learn from her if she -consented of her will to the marriage her father was arranging -for her, and that, should it not be to her liking, an offer should -be made to her to free her from that constraint, since help -would not fail her in it. What Damon was saying seemed good -to Elicio, and he determined to go to look for Galatea to declare -to her his wish, and to learn the wish she held enclosed in her -breast; and so, changing the road they were taking to his cabin, -they journeyed towards the village, and coming to a crossway -hard by where four roads divided, they saw some eight gallant -shepherds approaching by one of them, all with javelins in their -hands, except one of them who came mounted on a handsome -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_218"></a>[Pg 218]</span>mare, clad in a violet cloak, and the rest on foot, all having -their faces muffled with kerchiefs. Damon and Elicio stopped -till the shepherds should pass, and these passing close to them, -bowed their heads and courteously saluted them, without any of -them saying a word. The two were amazed to see the strange -appearance of the eight, and stood still to see what road they were -following; but straightway they saw they were taking the road to -the village, although a different one to that by which they were -going. Damon told Elicio to follow them, but he would not, saying -that on that way which he wished to follow, near a spring which -was not far from it, Galatea was ofttime wont to be with some -shepherdesses of the village, and that it would be well to see if -fortune showed herself so kind to them that they might find her -there. Damon was satisfied with what Elicio wished, and so he -told him to lead wherever he chose. And his lot chanced as -he himself had imagined, for they had not gone far when there -came to their ears the pipe of Florisa, accompanied by the fair -Galatea's voice, and when this was heard by the shepherds, -they were beside themselves. Then Damon knew at last how -true they spoke who celebrated the graces of Galatea, who was -in the company of Rosaura and Florisa and of the fair Silveria -newly wed, with two other shepherdesses of the same village. -And though Galatea saw the shepherds coming, she would not -for that reason abandon the song she had begun, but rather -seemed to give tokens that she felt pleasure at the shepherds -listening to her, and they did so with all the attention possible; -and what they succeeded in hearing of what the shepherdess was -singing, was the following:</p> - -<p class="p01">G<small>ALATEA.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Whither shall I turn mine eyes</span><br /> -In the woe that is at hand,<br /> -If my troubles nearer stand,<br /> -As my bliss the further flies?<br /> -I am doomed to grievous pain<br /> -By the grief that bids me roam:<br /> -If it slays me when at home,<br /> -When abroad what shall I gain?</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Just obedience, hard to bear!</span><br /> -For I have the 'yes' to say<br /> -In obedience, which some day<br /> -My death-sentence shall declare;<br /> -I am set such ills among,<br /> -That as happiness 'twould be<br /> -Counted, if life were to me<br /> -Wanting, or at least a tongue.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Brief the hours, ah! brief and weary</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_219"></a>[Pg 219]</span>Have the hours been of my gladness<br /> -Everlasting those of sadness,<br /> -Full of dread and ever dreary;<br /> -In my happy girlhood's hour<br /> -I enjoyed my liberty,<br /> -But, alas! now slavery<br /> -O'er my will asserts its power.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Lo! the battle cruel doth prove,</span><br /> -Which they wage against my thought,<br /> -If, when they have fiercely fought,<br /> -I love not, yet needs must love;<br /> -Oh displeasing power of place!<br /> -For, in reverence of the old<br /> -I my hands must meekly fold<br /> -And my tender neck abase.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">What! have I farewell to say,</span><br /> -See no more the golden river,<br /> -Leave behind my flock for ever,<br /> -And in sadness go away?<br /> -Shall these trees of leafy shade,<br /> -Shall these meadows broad and green<br /> -Never, nevermore, be seen<br /> -By the eyes of this sad maid?</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ah! what doest thou, cruel sire?</span><br /> -Lo! the truth is known full well,<br /> -That thou from me life dost steal<br /> -In fulfilling thy desire;<br /> -If there is not in my sighs<br /> -Power to tell thee my distress,<br /> -What my tongue cannot express,<br /> -Mayst thou learn it from my eyes.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Now I picture in its gloom</span><br /> -The sad hour when we must sever,<br /> -The sweet glory, lost for ever,<br /> -And the mournful, bitter, tomb;<br /> -Unknown husband's joyless face,<br /> -Troubles of the toilsome road,<br /> -And his aged mother's mood,<br /> -Peevish, for I take her place.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Other troubles will begin,</span><br /> -Countless heartaches will annoy,<br /> -When I see what giveth joy<br /> -To my husband and his kin;<br /> -Yet the fear I apprehend<br /> -And my fortune pictureth,<br /> -Will be ended soon by death,<br /> -Which doth all our sorrows end.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_220"></a>[Pg 220]</span></p> - -<p class="p01">Galatea sang no more, for the tears she was shedding -hindered her voice, and even the satisfaction in all those who -had been listening to her, for they straightway knew clearly -what they were dimly imagining concerning Galatea's marriage -with the Lusitanian shepherd, and how much it was being -brought about against her will. But he whom her tears and -sighs moved most to pity was Elicio, for he would have given -his life to remedy them, had their remedy depended thereon; -but making use of his discretion, his face dissembling the grief -his soul was feeling, he and Damon went up to where the -shepherdesses were, whom they courteously greeted, and with -no less courtesy were received by them. Galatea straightway -asked Damon for her father, and he replied to her that he was -staying in Silerio's hermitage, in the company of Timbrio and -Nisida, and of all the other shepherds who accompanied -Timbrio, and he likewise gave her an account of the recognition -of Silerio and Timbrio, and of the loves of Darinto and -Blanca, Nisida's sister, with all the details Timbrio had related -of what had happened to him in the course of his love, whereon -Galatea said:</p> - -<p>'Happy Timbrio and happy Nisida, since the unrest suffered -until now has ended in such felicity, wherewith you will set in -oblivion the past disasters! nay, it will serve to increase your -glory, since it is a saying that the memory of past calamities -adds to the happiness that comes from present joys. But woe -for the hapless soul, that sees itself brought to the pass of -recalling lost bliss, and with fear of the ill that is to come; -without seeing nor finding remedy, nor any means to check the -misfortune which is threatening it, since griefs distress the more -the more they are feared!'</p> - -<p>'You speak truth, fair Galatea,' said Damon, 'for there is no -doubt that the sudden and unexpected grief that comes, does -not distress so much, though it alarms, as that which threatens -during long lapse of time, and closes up all the ways of remedy. -But nevertheless I say, Galatea, that Heaven does not send -evils so much without alloy, as to take away their remedy -altogether, especially when it lets us see them coming first, for -it seems that then it wishes to give an opportunity for the -working of our reason, in order that it may exercise and busy -itself in tempering or turning aside the misfortunes about to -come, and often it contents itself with distressing us by merely -keeping our minds busied with some specious fear without the -accomplishment of the dreaded evil being reached; and though -it should be reached, so long as life does not end, no one should -despair of the remedy for any evil he may suffer.'</p> - -<p>'I do not doubt of this,' replied Galatea, 'if the evils which -are dreaded or suffered were so slight, as to leave free and -unimpeded the working of our intellect; but you know well,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_221"></a>[Pg 221]</span> -Damon, that when the evil is such that this name can be given -to it, the first thing it does is to cloud our perception, and to -destroy the powers of our free will, our vigour decaying in such -a way that it can scarce lift itself, though hope urge it the -more.'</p> - -<p>'I do not know, Galatea,' answered Damon, 'how in your -green years can be contained such experience of evils, if it is -not that you wish us to understand that your great discretion -extends to speaking from intuitive knowledge of things, for you -have no information concerning them in any other way.'</p> - -<p>'Would to Heaven, discreet Damon,' replied Galatea, 'that I -were not able to contradict you in what you say, since thereby I -would gain two things: to retain the good opinion you have of -me, and not to feel the pain which causes me to speak with so -much experience of it.'</p> - -<p>Up to this point Elicio had kept silence; but being unable -any longer to endure seeing Galatea give tokens of the bitter -grief she was suffering, he said to her:</p> - -<p>'If you think perchance, peerless Galatea, that the woe that -threatens you can by any chance be remedied, by what you owe -to the good-will to serve you which you have known in me, I beg -you to declare it to me; and if you should not wish this so as to -comply with what you owe to obedience to your father, give me -at least leave to oppose anyone who should wish to carry away -from us from these banks the treasure of your beauty, which has -been nurtured thereon. And do not think, shepherdess, that I -presume so much on myself, as alone to make bold to fulfil with -deeds what I now offer you in words, for though the love I bear -you gives me spirit for a greater enterprise, I distrust my -fortune, and so I must needs place it in the hands of reason, -and in those of all the shepherds that pasture their flocks on these -banks of Tagus, who will not be willing to suffer that the sun -that illumines them, the discretion that makes them marvel, the -beauty that incites them and inspires them to a thousand honourable -rivalries should be snatched and taken away from before -their eyes. Wherefore, fair Galatea, on the faith of the reason -I have expressed, and of that which I have for adoring you, I -make you this offer, which must needs constrain you to disclose -your wish to me, in order that I may not fall into the error of -going against it in anything; but considering that your matchless -goodness and modesty must needs move you to respond -rather to your father's desire than to your own, I do not wish, -shepherdess, that you should tell it me, but to undertake to do -what shall seem good to me, with the purpose of looking after -your honour, with the care with which you yourself have always -looked after it.'</p> - -<p>Galatea was going to reply to Elicio and to thank him for his -kind desire; but she was prevented by the sudden coming of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_222"></a>[Pg 222]</span> -the eight masked shepherds whom Damon and Elicio had seen -passing toward the village a little while before. All came to -where the shepherdesses were, and without speaking a word, -six of them rushed with incredible speed to close with Damon -and Elicio, holding them in so strong a clutch that they could -in no way release themselves. In the meanwhile the other two -(one of whom was the one who came on horseback) went to -where Rosaura was, shrieking by reason of the violence that -was being done to Damon and Elicio; but, without any defence -availing her, one of the shepherds took her in his arms, and -placed her on the mare, and in the arms of the one who was -mounted. He, removing his mask, turned to the shepherds and -shepherdesses, saying:</p> - -<p>'Do not wonder, good friends, at the wrong which seemingly -has here been done you, for the power of love and this lady's -ingratitude have been the cause of it. I pray you to forgive -me, since it is no longer in my control; and if the famous -Grisaldo comes through these parts (as I believe he soon will -come), you will tell him that Artandro is carrying off Rosaura, -because he could not endure to be mocked by her, and that, if -love and this wrong should move him to wish for vengeance, he -already knows that Aragón is my country, and the place where -I live.'</p> - -<p>Rosaura was in a swoon on the saddle-bow, and the other -shepherds would not let Elicio or Damon go, until Artandro -bade them let them go; and when they saw themselves free, -they drew their knives with valiant spirit and rushed upon the -seven shepherds, who all together held the javelins they were -carrying at their breasts, telling them to stop, since they saw -how little they could achieve in the enterprise they were -undertaking.</p> - -<p>'Still less can Artandro achieve,' Elicio said in reply to -them, 'in having wrought such treason.'</p> - -<p>'Call it not treason,' answered one of the others, 'for this lady -has given her word to be Artandro's wife, and now, to comply -with the fickle mood of woman, she has withdrawn it, and -yielded herself to Grisaldo, a wrong so manifest and such that -it could not be dissembled from our master Artandro. Therefore -calm yourselves, shepherds, and think better of us than hitherto, -since to serve our master in so just a cause excuses us.'</p> - -<p>And without saying more, they turned their backs, still mistrusting -the evil looks Elicio and Damon wore, who were in such -a rage at not being able to undo that violent act, and at finding -themselves incapacitated from avenging what was being done -to them, that they knew neither what to say nor what to do. -But the sufferings Galatea and Florisa endured at seeing Rosaura -carried away in that manner, were such that they moved Elicio -to set his life in the manifest peril of losing it; for, drawing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_223"></a>[Pg 223]</span> -his sling—and Damon doing the same—he went at full speed in -pursuit of Artandro, and with much spirit and skill they began -from a distance to throw such large stones at them that they -made them halt and turn to set themselves on the defensive. -But nevertheless it could not but have gone ill with the two bold -shepherds, had not Artandro bidden his men to go forward and -leave them, as they did, until they entered a dense little thicket -which was on one side of the road, and, with the protection of -the trees the slings and stones of the angry shepherds had little -effect. Nevertheless they would have followed them, had they -not seen Galatea and Florisa and the other two shepherdesses -coming with all haste to where they were, and for this reason -they stopped, violently restraining the rage that spurred them on, -and the desired vengeance they meditated; and as they went -forward to receive Galatea, she said to them:</p> - -<p>'Temper your wrath, gallant shepherds, since with the advantage -of our enemies your diligence cannot vie, though it has been -such as the valour of your souls has shown to us.'</p> - -<p>'The sight of your discontent, Galatea,' said Elicio, 'would, -I believed, have given such violent energy to mine, that those -discourteous shepherds would not have boasted of the violence -they have done us; but in my fortune is involved not having any -luck in anything I desire.'</p> - -<p>'The loving desire Artandro feels' said Galatea, 'it was which -moved him to such discourtesy, and so he is in my eyes excused -in part.'</p> - -<p>And straightway she related to them in full detail the story of -Rosaura, and how she was waiting for Grisaldo to receive him as -husband, which might have come to Artandro's knowledge, and -that jealous rage might have moved him to do as they had seen.</p> - -<p>'If it is as you say, discreet Galatea,' said Damon, 'I fear that -from Grisaldo's neglect, and Artandro's boldness, and Rosaura's -fickle mood, some grief and strife must needs arise.'</p> - -<p>'That might be,' replied Galatea, 'should Artandro dwell in -Castile; but if he withdraws to Aragón, which is his country, -Grisaldo will be left with only the desire for vengeance.'</p> - -<p>'Is there no one to inform him of this wrong?' said Elicio.</p> - -<p>'Yes,' replied Florisa, 'for I pledge myself that before night -approaches, he shall have knowledge of it.'</p> - -<p>'If that were so,' replied Damon, 'he would be able to recover -his beloved before they reached Aragón; for a loving breast is -not wont to be slothful.'</p> - -<p>'I do not think that Grisaldo's will be so,' said Florisa, 'and, -that time and opportunity to show it may not fail him, I pray -you, Galatea, let us return to the village, for I wish to send to -inform Grisaldo of his misfortune.'</p> - -<p>'Be it done as you bid, friend,' replied Galatea, 'for I shall -give you a shepherd to take the news.'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_224"></a>[Pg 224]</span></p> - -<p>And with this they were about to take leave of Damon and -Elicio, had not these persisted in their wish to go with them. -And as they were journeying to the village, they heard on their -right hand the pipe, straightway recognised by all, of Erastro, -who was coming in pursuit of his friend Elicio. They stopped -to listen to it, and heard him singing thus, as he came, with -tokens of tender grief:</p> - -<p class="p01">E<small>RASTRO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">By rugged paths my fancy's doubtful end</span><br /> -I follow, to attain it ever trying,<br /> -And in night's gloom and chilly darkness lying,<br /> -The forces of my life I ever spend.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">To leave the narrow way, I do not lend</span><br /> -A thought, although I see that I am dying,<br /> -For, on the faith of my true faith relying,<br /> -'Gainst greater fear I would myself defend.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">My faith the beacon is that doth declare</span><br /> -Safe haven to my storm, and doth reveal<br /> -Unto my voyage promise of success,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Although the means uncertain may appear,</span><br /> -Although my star's bright radiance Love conceal,<br /> -Although the heavens assail me and distress.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">With a deep sigh the hapless shepherd ended his loving song, -and, believing that no one heard him, loosed his voice in words -such as these:</p> - -<p>'Oh Love, whose mighty power, though exercising no constraint -upon my soul, brought it to pass that I should have -power to keep my thoughts busied so well, seeing that thou -hast done me so much good, seek not now to show thyself -doing me the ill wherewith thou threatenest me! for thy mood -is more changeable than that of fickle fortune. Behold, Lord, -how obedient I have been to thy laws, how ready to follow thy -behests, and how subservient I have kept my will to thine! -Reward me for this obedience by doing what is to thee of such -import to do; suffer not these banks of ours to be bereft of that -beauty which set beauty and bestowed beauty on their fresh -and tiny grasses, on their lowly plants, and lofty trees; consent -not, Lord, that from the clear Tagus be taken away the treasure -that enriches it, and from which it has more fame than from -the golden sands it nurtures in its bosom; take not away from -the shepherds of these meadows the light of their eyes, the -glory of their thoughts, and the noble incentive that spurred -them on to a thousand noble and virtuous enterprises; consider -well that, if thou dost consent that Galatea should be -taken from this to foreign lands, thou despoilest thyself of the -dominion thou hast on these banks, since thou dost exercise it -through Galatea alone; and if she is wanting, count it assured -that thou wilt not be known in all these meadows; for all, as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_225"></a>[Pg 225]</span> -many as dwell therein, will refuse thee obedience and will not -aid thee with the wonted tribute; mark that what I beg of thee -is so conformable and near to reason, that thou wouldst wholly -depart from it, if thou didst not grant me my request. For what -law ordains, or what reason consents that the beauty we have -nurtured, the discretion that had its beginning in these our woods -and villages, the grace granted by Heaven's especial gift to our -country, now that we were hoping to cull the honourable fruit of -so much wealth and riches, must needs be taken to foreign -realms to be possessed and dealt with by strange and unknown -hands? May piteous Heaven seek not to work us a harm so -noteworthy! Oh green meadows, that rejoiced at her sight, oh -sweet-smelling flowers, that, touched by her feet, were full of a -greater fragrance, oh plants, oh trees of this delightful wood! -make all of you in the best form you can, though it be not -granted to your nature, some kind of lamentation to move -Heaven to grant me what I beg!'</p> - -<p>The love-sick shepherd said this, shedding the while such -tears that Galatea could not dissemble hers, nor yet any of those -who were with her, making all so noteworthy a lamentation, as -if then weeping at the rites of his death. Erastro came up to -them at this point and was received by them with pleasing -courtesy. And, as he saw Galatea with tokens of having accompanied -him in his tears, without taking his eyes from her, he -stood looking intently on her for a space, at the end of which he -said:</p> - -<p>'Now I know of a truth, Galatea, that no one of mankind -escapes the blows of fickle fortune, since I see that you who, I -thought, were to be by special privilege free from them, are -assailed and harassed by them with greater force. Hence I am -sure that Heaven has sought by a single blow to grieve all who -know you, and all who have any knowledge of your worth; but -nevertheless I cherish the hope that its cruelty is not to extend -so far as to carry further the affliction it has begun, coming as it -does so much to the hurt of your happiness.'</p> - -<p>'Nay, for this same reason,' replied Galatea, 'I am less sure of -my misfortune, since I was never unfortunate in what I desired; -but, as it does not befit the modesty on which I pride myself, to -reveal so clearly how the obedience I owe to my parents draws -me after it by the hair, I pray you, Erastro, not to give me -cause to renew my grief, and that naught may be treated of -either by you or by anyone else that may awaken in me before -the time the memory of the distress I fear. And together with -this I also pray you, shepherds, to suffer me to go on to the -village in order that Grisaldo, being informed, may have time to -take satisfaction for the wrong Artandro has done him.'</p> - -<p>Erastro was ignorant of Artandro's affair; but the shepherdess -Florisa in a few words told him it all; whereat Erastro won<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_226"></a>[Pg 226]</span>dered, -thinking that Artandro's valour could scarce be small, -since it was set on so difficult a task. The shepherds were on -the very point of doing what Galatea bade them, had they not -discovered at that moment all the company of gentlemen, shepherds -and ladies who were the night before in Silerio's hermitage. -They were coming with tokens of the greatest joy to the village, -bringing with them Silerio in a different garb and mind from -that he had had hitherto, for he had already abandoned that of a -hermit, changing it for that of a joyous bridegroom, as he -already was the fair Blanca's to the equal joy and satisfaction -of both, and of his good friends Timbrio and Nisida who persuaded -him to it, giving an end by that marriage to all his -miseries, and peace and quiet to the thoughts that distressed -him for Nisida's sake. And so, with the rejoicing such an issue -caused in them, they were all coming giving tokens thereof with -agreeable music, and discreet and loving songs, which they -ceased when they saw Galatea and the rest who were with her, -receiving one another with much pleasure and courtesy, Galatea -congratulating Silerio on what had happened to him, and Blanca -on her betrothal, and the same was done by the shepherds, -Damon, Elicio, and Erastro, who were warmly attached to -Silerio. As soon as the congratulations and courtesies between -them ceased, they agreed to pursue their way to the village, and -to lighten it, Thyrsis asked Timbrio to finish the sonnet he had -begun to repeat when he was recognised by Silerio. And Timbrio, -not refusing to do so, to the sound of the jealous Orfenio's -flute, with an exquisite and sweet voice sang it and finished it. -It was as follows:</p> - -<p class="p01">T<small>IMBRIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"> My hope is builded on so sure a base</span><br /> -That, though the fiercer blow the ruthless wind,<br /> -It cannot shake the bonds that firmly bind,<br /> -Such faith, such strength, such courage it displays.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Far, far am I from finding any place</span><br /> -For change within my firm and loving mind,<br /> -For sooner life doth in my anguish find<br /> -Its end draw nigh, than confidence decays.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">For, if amidst Love's conflict wavereth</span><br /> -The love-sick breast, no sweet nor peaceful home<br /> -To win from the same Love it meriteth.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Though Scylla threaten and Charybdis foam,</span><br /> -My breast the while, exultant in its faith,<br /> -Braveth the sea, and claims from Love its doom.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">Timbrio's sonnet seemed good to the shepherds, and no less -the grace with which he had sung it; and it was such that they -begged him to repeat something else. But he excused himself -by telling his friend Silerio to answer for him in that affair, as he -had always done in others more dangerous. Silerio could not<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_227"></a>[Pg 227]</span> -fail to do what his friend bade him, and so, in the joy of seeing -himself in such a happy state, he sang what follows to the sound -of that same flute of Orfenio's:</p> - -<p class="p01">S<small>ILERIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">To Heaven I give my thanks, since I have passed</span><br /> -Safe through the perils of this doubtful sea,<br /> -And to this haven of tranquillity,<br /> -Although I knew not whither, I am cast.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now let the sails of care be furled at last,</span><br /> -Let the poor gaping ship repairèd be,<br /> -Let each fulfil the vows which erstwhile he<br /> -With stricken face made to the angry blast.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">I kiss the earth, and Heaven I adore,</span><br /> -My fortune fair and joyous I embrace,<br /> -Happy I call my fatal destiny.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now I my hapless neck rejoicing place</span><br /> -In the new peerless gentle chain once more,<br /> -With purpose new and loving constancy.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">Silerio ended, and begged Nisida to be kind enough to -gladden those fields with her song, and she, looking at her -beloved Timbrio, with her eyes asked leave of him to fulfil -what Silerio was asking of her, and as he gave it her with a look -too, she, without waiting further, with much charm and grace, -when the sound of Orfenio's flute ceased, to that of Orompo's -pipe sang this sonnet:</p> - -<div class="p01">N<small>ISIDA.</small></div> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Against his view am I, whoso doth swear</span><br /> -That never did Love's happiness attain<br /> -Unto the height attained by his cruel pain,<br /> -Though fortune wait on bliss with tenderest care.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">I know what bliss is, what misfortune drear,</span><br /> -And what they do I know full well; 'tis plain<br /> -That bliss the more builds up the thought again,<br /> -The more Love's sorrow doth its strength impair.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">I saw myself by bitter death embraced,</span><br /> -When I was ill-informed by tidings ill;<br /> -To the rude corsairs I became a prey.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Cruel was the anguish, bitter was the taste</span><br /> -Of sorrow, yet I know and prove that still<br /> -Greater the joy is of this glad to-day.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">Galatea and Florisa were filled with wonder at the exquisite -voice of the fair Nisida, who, as it seemed to her -that Timbrio and those of his party had for the time taken -the lead in singing, did not wish her sister to be without -doing it; and so, without much pressing, with no less grace -than Nisida, beckoning to Orfenio to play his flute, to its sound -she sang in this wise:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_228"></a>[Pg 228]</span></p> - -<p class="p01">B<small>LANCA.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Just as if I in sandy Libya were</span><br /> -Or in far frozen Scythia, I beheld<br /> -Myself at times by glowing fire assailed<br /> -That never cools, at times by chilly fear.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">But hope, that makes our sorrow disappear,</span><br /> -Although such different semblances it bore,<br /> -Kept my life safe, well-guarded by its power,<br /> -When it was strong, when it was weak and drear,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Spent was the fury of the winter's chill,</span><br /> -And, though the fire of Love its power retained,<br /> -Yet the spring came which I had longed to see.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Now in one happy moment I have gained</span><br /> -The sweet fruit long desirèd by my will<br /> -With bounteous tokens of sincerity.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">Blanca's voice and what she sang pleased the shepherds no -less than all the others they had heard. And when they were -about to give proof that all the skill was not contained in the -gentlemen of the court, and when Orompo, Crisio, Orfenio, and -Marsilio, moved almost by one and the same thought, began to -tune their instruments, they were forced to turn their heads -by a noise they perceived behind them, which was caused -by a shepherd who was furiously rushing through the thickets -of the green wood. He was recognised by all as the love-sick -Lauso, whereat Thyrsis marvelled, for the night before -he had taken leave of him, saying that he was going on a -business, to finish which meant to finish his grief, and to -begin his pleasure; and without saying more to him had -gone away with another shepherd his friend, nor did he -know what could have happened to him now that he was -journeying with so much haste. What Thyrsis said moved -Damon to seek to call Lauso, and so he called to him to come; -but seeing that he did not hear him, and that he was already with -great haste disappearing behind a hill, he went forward with all -speed, and from the top of another hill, called him again with -louder cries. Lauso hearing them, and knowing who called -him, could not but turn, and on coming up to Damon embraced -him with tokens of strange content, and so great that the proof -he gave of being happy made Damon marvel; and so he said to -him:</p> - -<p>'What is it, friend Lauso? Have you by chance attained the -goal of your desires, or have they since yesterday conformed -with it in such a way that you are finding with ease what you -purpose?'</p> - -<p>'Much greater is the good I have, Damon, true friend,' -replied Lauso; 'since the cause which to others is wont to be -one of despair and death has proved to me hope and life, and -this cause has been owing to a disdain and undeceiving,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_229"></a>[Pg 229]</span> -accompanied by a prudish grace, which I have seen in my -shepherdess, for it has restored me to my first condition. Now, -now, shepherd, my wearied neck does not feel the weighty yoke -of love, now the lofty fabric of thought that made me giddy has -vanished in my mind; now I shall return to the lost converse -of my friends, now the green grass, and sweet-smelling flowers -of these peaceful fields will seem to me what they are, now my -sighs will have truce, my tears a ford, and my turmoils repose. -Consider, therefore, Damon, if this is sufficient cause for me to -show myself happy and rejoicing.'</p> - -<p>'Yes it is, Lauso,' replied Damon, 'but I fear that happiness -so suddenly born cannot be lasting, and I have already experienced -that every freedom that is begotten of disdain -vanishes like smoke, and straightway the loving purpose turns -again with greater haste to follow its purposings. Wherefore, -friend Lauso, may it please Heaven that your content may be -more secure than I fancy, and that you may enjoy for a long -time the freedom you proclaim, for I would rejoice not only -because of what I owe to our friendship, but also because I -should see an unwonted miracle in the desires of love.'</p> - -<p>'Howsoever this may be, Damon,' replied Lauso, 'I now feel -myself free, and lord of my will, and that yours may satisfy -itself that what I say is true, consider what you wish me to do -in proof of it. Do you wish me to go away? Do you wish me -to visit no more the hut where you think the cause of my past -pains and present joys can be? I will do anything to satisfy -you.'</p> - -<p>'The important point is that you, Lauso, should be satisfied,' -replied Damon, 'and I shall see that you are, if I see you six -days hence in this same frame of mind; and for the nonce I -seek naught else from you, save that you leave the road you -were taking and come with me to where all those shepherds -and ladies are waiting for us, and that you celebrate the joy you -feel by entertaining us with your song whilst we go to the -village.'</p> - -<p>Lauso was pleased to do what Damon bade him, and so he -turned back with him at the time when Thyrsis was beckoning -to Damon to return; and when it came to pass that he and -Lauso came up, without wasting words of courtesy Lauso said:</p> - -<p>'I do not come, sirs, for less than festivity and pleasure; -therefore if you would have any in listening to me, let Marsilio -sound his pipe, and prepare yourselves to hear what I never -thought my tongue would have cause to utter, nor yet my -thought to imagine.'</p> - -<p>All the shepherds replied together that it would be a great -joy to them to hear him. And straightway Marsilio, moved by -the desire he had to listen to him, played his pipe, to the sound -of which Lauso began to sing in this wise:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_230"></a>[Pg 230]</span></p> - -<div class="p01">L<small>AUSO.</small></div> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Unto the ground I sink on bended knee,</span><br /> -My suppliant hands clasped humbly, and my breast<br /> -Filled with a righteous and a loving zeal;<br /> -Holy disdain, I worship thee; in thee<br /> -Are summed the causes of the dainty feast<br /> -Which I in calm and ease enjoy full well;<br /> -For, of the rigour of the poison fell<br /> -Which Love's ill doth contain,<br /> -Thou wert the certain and the speedy cure,<br /> -Turning my ruin sure<br /> -To good, my war to healthy peace again.<br /> -Wherefore not once, but times beyond all measure,<br /> -I do adore thee as my kindliest treasure.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Through thee the light of these my wearied eyes,</span><br /> -Which was so long troubled and even lost,<br /> -Hath turned again to what it was before;<br /> -Through thee again I glory in the prize<br /> -Which from my will and life at bitter cost<br /> -Love's ancient tyranny in triumph bore.<br /> -'Twas thou that didst my error's night restore<br /> -To bright unclouded day,<br /> -'Twas thou that ledd'st the reason, which of old<br /> -Foul slavery did hold,<br /> -Into a peaceful and a wiser way;<br /> -Reason, now mistress, guideth me to where<br /> -Eternal bliss doth show and shine more clear.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">From thee I learned, disdain, how treacherous,</span><br /> -How false and feigned had been those signs of love,<br /> -Which the fair maid did to my eyes display,<br /> -And how those words and whispers amorous,<br /> -That charmed the ear so much, and caused to rove<br /> -The soul, leading it from itself astray,<br /> -Were framed in falsehood and in mockery gay;<br /> -How the glance of those eyes,<br /> -So sweet and tender, did but seek my doom,<br /> -That unto winter's gloom<br /> -Might be transformed my springtime's sunny skies,<br /> -What time I should be clearly undeceived;<br /> -But, sweet disdain, thou hast the wound relieved.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Disdain, disdain, ever the sharpest goad</span><br /> -That urges on the fancy to pursue<br /> -After the loving, long-desirèd need,<br /> -In me changed is thy practice and thy mood,<br /> -For, by thee led, the purpose I eschew<br /> -Which once I followed hard with unseen speed;<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_231"></a>[Pg 231]</span>And, though Love, ill-contented with my deed,<br /> -Doth never, never, rest,<br /> -But spreads the noose to seize me as before,<br /> -And, to wound me the more,<br /> -Aimeth a thousand shafts against my breast,<br /> -'Tis thou, disdain, alone that art my friend,<br /> -Thou canst his arrows break, his meshes rend.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">My love, though simple, yet is not so weak</span><br /> -That one disdain could bring it to the ground,<br /> -Countless disdains were needed for the blow,<br /> -E'en as the pine is doomed at last to break<br /> -And fall to earth—though on its trunk resound<br /> -Full many a blow, the last 'tis brings it low.<br /> -Weighty disdain, with countenance of woe,<br /> -Who art on love's absence based,<br /> -On poor opinion of another's lot,<br /> -To see thee hath been fraught<br /> -With joy to me, to hear thee and to taste,<br /> -To know that thou hast deigned, with soul allied<br /> -To beat down and to end my foolish pride.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thou beatest down my folly, and dost aid</span><br /> -The intellect to rise on lofty wing<br /> -And shake off heavy slumber from the mind,<br /> -So that with healthy purpose undismayed<br /> -It may the power and praise of others sing,<br /> -If it perchance a grateful mistress find.<br /> -Thou hast the henbane, wherewith Love unkind<br /> -Lullèd my sorrowing strength<br /> -To slumber, robbed of vigour, thou, in pride<br /> -Of glowing strength, dost guide<br /> -Me back unto new life and ways at length,<br /> -For now I know that I am one who may<br /> -Fear within bounds and hope without dismay.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Lauso sang no more, though what he had sung sufficed to fill -those present with wonder, for, as all knew that the day before -he was so much in love and so content to be so, it made them -marvel to see him in so short a space of time so changed and -so different from what he was wont to be. And having considered -this well, his friend Thyrsis said to him:</p> - -<p>'I know not, friend Lauso, if I should congratulate you on -the bliss attained in such brief hours, for I fear that it cannot be -as firm and sure as you imagine; but nevertheless I am glad -that you enjoy, though it may be for a little while, the pleasure -that freedom when attained causes in the soul, since it might be -that knowing now how it should be valued, though you might -turn again to the broken chains and bonds, you would use -more force to break them, drawn by the sweetness and delight -a free understanding and an unimpassioned will enjoy.'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_232"></a>[Pg 232]</span></p> - -<p>'Have no fear, discreet Thyrsis,' replied Lauso, 'that any -other new artifice may suffice for me to place once more my feet -in the stocks of love, nor count me so light and capricious but -that it has cost me, to set me in the state in which I am, countless -reflections, a thousand verified suspicions, a thousand fulfilled -promises made to Heaven, that I might return to the light -I had lost; and since in the light I now see how little I saw -before, I will strive to preserve it in the best way I can.'</p> - -<p>'There will be no other way so good,' said Thyrsis, 'as not to -turn to look at what you leave behind, for you will lose, if you -turn, the freedom that has cost you so much, and you will -be left, as was left that heedless lover, with new causes for -ceaseless lament; and be assured, friend Lauso, that there is -not in the world a breast so loving, which disdain and needless -arrogance do not cool, and even cause to withdraw from its ill-placed -thoughts. And I am made to believe this truth the more, -knowing who Silena is, though you have never told it me, and -knowing also her fickle mood, her hasty impulses, and the -freedom, to give it no other name, of her inclinations, things -which, if she did not temper them and cloak them with the -peerless beauty wherewith Heaven has endowed her, would -have made her abhorred by all the world.'</p> - -<p>'You speak truth, Thyrsis,' replied Lauso, 'for without any -doubt her remarkable beauty, and the appearances of incomparable -modesty wherewith she arrays herself are reasons why -she should be not only loved but adored by all that behold her. -And so no one should marvel that my free will has submitted to -enemies so strong and mighty; only it is right that one should -marvel at the way I have been able to escape from them, for -though I come from their hands so ill-treated, with will impaired, -understanding disturbed, and memory decayed, yet it -seems to me that I can conquer in the strife.'</p> - -<p>The two shepherds did not proceed further in their discourse, -for at this moment they saw a fair shepherdess coming by the -very road they were going, and a little way from her a shepherd, -who was straightway recognised, for he was the old Arsindo, -and the shepherdess was Galercio's sister, Maurisa. And -when she was recognised by Galatea and Florisa, they understood -that she was coming with some message from Grisaldo to -Rosaura, and as the pair went forward to welcome her, Maurisa -came to embrace Galatea, and the old Arsindo greeted all the -shepherds, and embraced his friend Lauso, who had a great -desire to know what Arsindo had done after they told him that -he had gone off in pursuit of Maurisa. And when he was now -seen coming back with her, he straightway began to lose with -him and with all the character his white hairs had won for him, -and he would even have lost it altogether, had not those who -were there known so well from experience to what point and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_233"></a>[Pg 233]</span> -how far the force of love extended, and so in the very ones -who blamed him he found excuses for his error. And it seems -that Arsindo, guessing what the shepherds guessed of him, as -though to satisfy and excuse his affection, said to them:</p> - -<p>'Listen, shepherds, to one of the strangest love-affairs that -for many years can have been seen on these our banks, or on -others. I believe full well that you know, and we all know, the -renowned shepherd Lenio, him whose loveless disposition won -him the name of loveless, him who not many days ago, merely -to speak ill of love, dared to enter into rivalry with the famous -Thyrsis, who is present; him, I say, who never could move his -tongue, were it not to speak ill of love; him who with such -earnestness was wont to reprove those whom he saw distressed -by the pangs of love. He, then, being so open an enemy of -Love, has come to the pass that I am sure Love has no one who -follows him more earnestly, nor yet has he a vassal whom he -persecutes more, for he has made him fall in love with the loveless -Gelasia, that cruel shepherdess, who the other day, as you -saw, held the brother of this damsel' (pointing to Maurisa), -'who resembles her so closely in disposition, with the rope at -his throat, to finish at the hands of her cruelty his short and ill-starred -days. I say in a word, shepherds, that Lenio the loveless -is dying for the hard-hearted Gelasia, and for her he fills -the air with sighs and the earth with tears; and what is worse -in this is that it seems to me that Love has wished to avenge -himself on Lenio's rebellious heart, handing him over to the -hardest and most scornful shepherdess that has been seen; and -he knowing it, now seeks in all he says and does to reconcile -himself with Love; and in the same terms with which before he -abused him, he now exalts and honours him. And nevertheless, -neither is Love moved to favour him, nor Gelasia inclined to -heal him, as I have seen with my eyes; since, not many hours -ago, as I was coming in the company of this shepherdess, we -found him at the spring of slates stretched on the ground, his -face covered with a cold sweat, and his breast panting with -strange rapidity. I went up to him and recognised him, and -with the water of the spring sprinkled his face, whereat he -recovered his lost senses; and drawing close to him I asked -him the cause of his grief, which he told me without missing a -word, telling it me with such tender feeling, that he inspired it -in this shepherdess, in whom I think there never was contained -the sign of any compassion. He dwelt on Gelasia's cruelty, and -the love he had for her, and the suspicion that reigned in him -that Love had brought him to such a state to avenge himself at -one blow for the many wrongs he had done him. I consoled -him as best I could, and leaving him free from his past paroxysm, -I come accompanying this shepherdess, and to seek you, Lauso, -in order that, if you would be willing, we may return to our huts,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_234"></a>[Pg 234]</span> -for it is ten days since we left them, and it may be that our -herds feel our absence more than we do theirs.'</p> - -<p>'I know not if I should tell you in reply, Arsindo,' replied -Lauso, 'that I believe you invite me rather out of compliment -than for anything else to return to our huts, having as much to -do in those of others, as your ten days' absence from me has -shown. But leaving on one side most of what I could say to -you thereon for a better time and opportunity, tell me again if it -is true what you say of Lenio; for if it is, I may declare that -Love has wrought in these days two of the greatest miracles he -has wrought in all the days of his life, namely, to subdue and -enslave Lenio's hard heart, and to set free mine which was so -subjected.'</p> - -<p>'Look to what you are saying, friend Lauso,' then said -Orompo, 'for if Love held you subject, as you have indicated -hitherto, how has the same Love now set you in the freedom -you proclaim?'</p> - -<p>'If you would understand me, Orompo,' replied Lauso, 'you -will see that I in no wise contradict myself, for I say, or mean to -say, that the love that reigned and reigns in the breast of her -whom I loved so dearly, as it directs itself to a purpose different -from mine, though it is all love,—the effect it has wrought in me -is to place me in freedom and Lenio in slavery; and do not -compel me, Orompo, to relate other miracles with these.'</p> - -<p>And as he said this he turned his eyes to look at the old -Arsindo, and with them uttered what with his tongue he kept -back; for all understood that the third miracle he might have -related would have been the sight of Arsindo's gray hairs in -love with the few green years of Maurisa. She was talking -apart all this time with Galatea and Florisa, telling them that on -the morrow Grisaldo would be in the village in shepherd's garb, -and that he thought there to wed Rosaura in secret, for publicly -he could not, because the kinsmen of Leopersia, to whom his -father had agreed to marry him, had learned that Grisaldo was -about to fail in his plighted word, and they in no wise wished -such a wrong to be done them; but nevertheless Grisaldo was -determined to conform rather to what he owed to Rosaura than -to the obligation in which he stood to his father.</p> - -<p>'All that I have told you, shepherdesses,' went on Maurisa, -'my brother Galercio told me to tell you. He was coming to -you with this message, but the cruel Gelasia whose beauty ever -draws after it the soul of my luckless brother, was the cause why -he could not come to tell you what I have said, since, in order -to follow her, he ceased to follow the way he was taking, trusting -in me as a sister. You have now learned, shepherdesses, why I -have come. Where is Rosaura to tell it her? or do you tell it -her, for the anguish in which my brother lies does not permit -me to remain here a moment longer.'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_235"></a>[Pg 235]</span></p> - -<p>Whilst the shepherdess was saying this, Galatea was considering -the grievous reply she intended to give her, and the sad -tidings that must needs reach the ears of the luckless Grisaldo; -but seeing that she could not escape giving them, and that -it was worse to detain her, she straightway told her all that -had happened to Rosaura, and how Artandro was carrying her -off; whereat Maurisa was amazed, and at once would fain have -returned to tell Grisaldo, had not Galatea detained her, asking -her what had become of the two shepherdesses who had gone -away with her and Galercio, to which Maurisa replied:</p> - -<p>'I might tell you things about them, Galatea, which would set -you in greater wonder than that in which Rosaura's fate has set -me, but time does not give me opportunity for it. I only tell -you that she who was called Leonarda has betrothed herself to -my brother Artidoro by the subtlest trick that has ever been -seen; and Teolinda, the other one, is in the pass of ending her -life or of losing her wits, and she is only sustained by the sight -of Galercio, for, as his appearance resembles so much that of my -brother Artidoro, she does not depart from his company for a -moment, a thing which is as irksome and vexatious to Galercio -as the company of the cruel Gelasia is sweet and pleasing to -him. The manner in which this took place I will tell you more -in detail, when we see each other again; for it will not be right -that by my delay the remedy should be hindered, that Grisaldo -may have in his misfortune, using to remedy it all diligence -possible. For, if it is only this morning that Artandro carried -off Rosaura, he will not have been able to go so far from these -banks as to take away from Grisaldo the hope of recovering her, -and more so if I quicken my steps as I intend.'</p> - -<p>Galatea approved of what Maurisa was saying, and so she did -not wish to detain her longer; only she begged her to be kind -enough to return to see her as soon as she could, to relate to her -what had happened to Teolinda, and what had happened in -Rosaura's affair. The shepherdess promised it her, and without -staying longer, took leave of those who were there, and returned -to her village, leaving all contented with her charm and beauty. -But he who felt her departure most was the old Arsindo, who, -not to give clear tokens of his desire, had to remain as lonely -without Maurisa as he was accompanied by his thoughts. The -shepherdesses, too, were left amazed at what they had heard -about Teolinda, and desired exceedingly to learn her fate; -and, whilst in this state, they heard the clear sound of a horn, -which was sounding on their right hand, and turning their -eyes to that side, they saw on the top of a hill of some height -two old shepherds who had between them an aged priest, -whom they straightway knew to be the old Telesio. And, one -of the shepherds having blown the horn a second time, the three -all descended from the hill and journeyed towards another<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_236"></a>[Pg 236]</span> -which was hard by, and having ascended it, they again blew the -horn, at the sound of which many shepherds began to move -from different parts to come to see what Telesio desired; for by -that signal he was wont to call together all the shepherds of that -bank whenever he wished to address to them some useful -discourse, or to tell them of the death of some renowned shepherd -in those parts, or in order to bring to their minds the day -of some solemn festival or of some sad funeral rites. Aurelio -then, and almost all the shepherds who came there, having -recognised Telesio's costume and calling, all came on, drawing -nigh to where he was, and when they got there, they were -already united in one group. But, as Telesio saw so many -people coming, and recognised how important all were, -descending from the hill, he went to receive them with much -love and courtesy, and with the same courtesy was received by -all. And Aurelio, going up to Telesio, said to him:</p> - -<p>'Tell us, if you be so good, honourable and venerable Telesio, -what new cause moves you to wish to assemble the shepherds -of these meadows; is it by chance for joyous festival or sad -funereal rite? Do you wish to point out to us something appertaining -to the improvement of our lives? Tell us, Telesio, what -your will ordains, since you know that ours will not depart from -all that yours might wish.'</p> - -<p>'May Heaven repay you, shepherds,' answered Telesio, 'for -the sincerity of your purposes, since they conform so much to -that of him who seeks only your good and profit. But to satisfy -the desire you have to learn what I wish, I wish to bring to your -memory the memory you ought ever to retain of the worth and -fame of the famous and excellent shepherd Meliso, whose -mournful obsequies are renewed and ever will be renewed from -year to year on to-morrow's date so long as there be shepherds -on our banks, and in our souls there be not wanting the knowledge -of what is due to Meliso's goodness and worth. At least -for myself I can tell you that, as long as my life shall last, I -shall not fail to remind you at the fitting time of the obligation -under which you have been placed by the skill, courtesy, and -virtue of the peerless Meliso. And so now I remind you of it -and make known to you that to-morrow is the day when the -luckless day must be renewed on which we lost so much good, -as it was to lose the agreeable presence of the prudent shepherd -Meliso. By what you owe to his goodness, and by what you owe -to the purpose I have to serve you, I pray you shepherds to be -to-morrow at break of day all in the valley of cypresses, where -stands the tomb of Meliso's honoured ashes, in order that there -with sad hymns and pious sacrifices we may seek to lighten the -pain, if any it suffers, of that happy soul which has left us in such -solitude.'</p> - -<p>And as he said this, moved by the tender regret the memory of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_237"></a>[Pg 237]</span> -Meliso's death caused him, his venerable eyes filled with tears, -most of the bystanders accompanying him therein. They all -with one accord offered to be present on the morrow where -Telesio bade them, and Timbrio and Silerio, Nisida and -Blanca did the same, for it seemed to them that it would not -be well to fail to attend at so solemn an occasion and in an -assembly of shepherds so celebrated as they imagined would -assemble there. Therewith they took leave of Telesio and -resumed the journey to the village they had begun. But they -had not gone far from that place when they saw coming -towards them the loveless Lenio, with a countenance so sad -and thoughtful that it set wonder in all; and he was coming so -rapt in his fancies that he passed by the side of the shepherds -without seeing them; nay, rather, turning his course to the left -hand, he had not gone many steps when he flung himself down -at the foot of a green willow; and giving forth a heavy and -deep sigh, he raised his hand, and placing it on the collar of -his skin-coat, pulled so strongly that he tore it all the way down, -and straightway he took the wallet from his side, and drawing -from it a polished rebeck, he set himself to tune it with great -attention and calm; and after a little while he began in a -mournful and harmonious voice to sing in such a manner that -he constrained all who had seen him to stop to listen to him -until the end of his song, which was as follows:</p> - -<p class="p01">L<small>ENIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Sweet Love, I repent me now</span><br /> -Of my past presumptuous guilt,<br /> -I feel henceforth and avow<br /> -That on scoffing it was built,<br /> -Reared aloft on mocking show;<br /> -Now my proud self I abase<br /> -And my rebel neck I place<br /> -'Neath thy yoke of slavery,<br /> -Now I know the potency<br /> -Of thy great far-spreading grace.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">What thou willest, thou canst do,</span><br /> -And what none can do, thou willest,<br /> -Who thou art, well dost thou show<br /> -In thy mood whereby thou killest,<br /> -In thy pleasure and thy woe;<br /> -I am he—the truth is plain—<br /> -Who did count thy bliss as pain,<br /> -Thy deceiving undeceiving,<br /> -And thy verities as deceiving,<br /> -As caresses thy disdain.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">These have now made manifest—</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_238"></a>[Pg 238]</span>Though the truth I knew before—<br /> -To my poor submissive breast<br /> -That thou only art the shore<br /> -Where our wearied lives find rest;<br /> -For the tempest pitiless<br /> -Which doth most the soul distress,<br /> -Thou dost change to peaceful calm,<br /> -Thou'rt the soul's delight and balm.<br /> -And the food that doth it bless.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Since I this confession make—</span><br /> -Late though my confession be—<br /> -Love, seek not my strength to break,<br /> -Temper thy severity,<br /> -From my neck the burden take;<br /> -When the foe hath made submission,<br /> -None need punish his contrition,<br /> -He doth not himself defend.<br /> -Now I fain would be thy friend,<br /> -Yet from thee comes my perdition.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">From the stubbornness I turn</span><br /> -Where my malice did me place<br /> -And the presence of thy scorn,<br /> -From thy justice to thy grace<br /> -I appeal with heart forlorn;<br /> -If the poor worth of my mind<br /> -With thy grace no favour find,—<br /> -With thy well-known grace divine—<br /> -Soon shall I my life resign<br /> -To the hands of grief unkind.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">By Gelasia's hands am I</span><br /> -Plunged into so strange a plight,<br /> -That if my grief stubbornly<br /> -With her stubbornness shall fight,<br /> -Soon methinks they both will die;<br /> -Tell me, maiden pitiless,<br /> -Filled with pride and scornfulness,<br /> -Why thou wishest, I implore thee,<br /> -That the heart which doth adore thee,<br /> -Should thus suffer, shepherdess.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Little it was that Lenio sang, but his flood of tears was so -copious that he would there have been consumed in them, had -not the shepherds come up to console him. But when he saw -them coming and recognised Thyrsis among them, he arose -without further delay and went to fling himself at his feet, -closely embracing his knees, and said to him without ceasing -his tears:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_239"></a>[Pg 239]</span></p> - -<p>'Now you can, famous shepherd, take just vengeance for the -boldness I had to compete with you, defending the unjust cause -my ignorance set before me; now, I say, you can raise your -arm and with a sharp knife pierce this heart where was contained -foolishness so notorious as it was not to count Love the -universal lord of the world. But one thing I would have you -know, that if you wish to take vengeance duly on my error, you -should leave me with the life I sustain, which is such that there -is no death to compare to it.'</p> - -<p>Thyrsis had already raised the hapless Lenio from the ground, -and having embraced him, sought to console him with discreet -and loving words, saying to him:</p> - -<p>'The greatest fault there is in faults, friend Lenio, is to persist -in them, for it is the disposition of devils never to repent of -errors committed, and likewise one of the chief causes which -moves and constrains men to pardon offences is for the offended -one to see repentance in the one who gives offence, and the -more when the pardoning is in the hands of one who does -nothing in doing this act, since his noble disposition draws and -compels him to do it, he remaining richer and more satisfied -with the pardon than with the vengeance; as we see it repeatedly -in great lords and kings, who gain more glory in -pardoning wrongs than in avenging them. And since you, -Lenio, confess the error in which you have been and now know -the mighty forces of Love, and understand of him that he is the -universal lord of our hearts, by reason of this new knowledge -and of the repentance you feel, you can be confident and live -assured that gentle and kindly Love will soon restore you to a -calm and loving life; for if he now punishes you by giving you -the painful life you lead, he does it so that you may know him -and may afterwards hold and esteem more highly the life of joy -he surely thinks to give you.'</p> - -<p>To these words Elicio and the remaining shepherds who were -there, added many others whereby it seemed that Lenio was -somewhat more consoled. And straightway he related to them -how he was dying for the cruel shepherdess Gelasia, emphasising -to them the scornful and loveless disposition of hers, and how -free and exempt she was from thinking on any goal in love, -describing to them also the insufferable torment which for her -sake the gentle shepherd Galercio was suffering, on whom she -set so little store that a thousand times she had set him on the -verge of suicide. But after they had for a while discoursed on -these things, they resumed their journey, taking Lenio with -them, and without anything else happening to them they reached -the village, Elicio taking with him Thyrsis, Damon, Erastro, -Lauso and Arsindo. With Daranio went Crisio, Orfenio, -Marsilio, and Orompo. Florisa and the other shepherdesses -went with Galatea and her father Aurelio, having first agreed -that on the morrow at the coming of the dawn they should meet -to go to the valley of cypresses as Telesio had bidden them, in -order to celebrate Meliso's obsequies. At them, as has already -been said, Timbrio, Silerio, Nisida and Blanca wished to be -present, who went that night with the venerable Aurelio.</p> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="footnotes"> - -<p class="p4 center big1">FOOTNOTES:</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_116" href="#FNanchor_116" class="label">[116]</a> (Sr. D. Francisco Rodríguez Marín—who holds that the character of Galatea -"is not and cannot be" intended to represent Cervantes's future wife—points to -this passage in confirmation of his view: see his valuable monograph entitled -<cite>Luis Barahona de Soto, Estudio biográfico, bibliográfico y crítico</cite> (Madrid, -1903), p. 119. In this distinguished scholar's opinion, the words <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">el rabadán -mayor</i> apply to Philip II., and, by way of illustration, he quotes Lope de Vega's -brilliant <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">romance</i> written to celebrate the wedding of Philip III. and Margaret -of Austria:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">El gran rabadán al reino</span><br /> -Vino de Valladolid,<br /> -Con galanes labradores<br /> -Y más floridos que abril.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p> -Galatea, as Sr. Rodríguez Marín believes, was a lady about the court who could -not marry without the King's permission—a permission unnecessary for anyone in -the modest social position of Doña Catalina de Palacios Salazar y Vozmediano. -But compare the <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">Introduction</i> to the present volume, pp. xxxii.-xxxiii. J. F.-K.)</p></div></div> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_240"></a>[Pg 240]</span></p> -</div> - -<h2 class="nobreak">BOOK VI.</h2> - - - -<p>Scarce had the rays of golden Phoebus begun to break through -the lowest line of our horizon, when the aged and venerable -Telesio made the piteous sound of his horn come to the ears of -all that were in the village—a signal which moved those who -heard it to leave the repose of their pastoral couches, and -hasten to do what Telesio bade. But the first who led the way -in this were Elicio, Aurelio, Daranio, and all the shepherds and -shepherdesses who were with them, the fair Nisida and Blanca, -and the happy Timbrio and Silerio not being absent, with a -number of other gallant shepherds and beauteous shepherdesses, -who joined them, and might reach the number of thirty. -Amongst them went the peerless Galatea, new miracle of beauty, -and the lately-wed Silveria, who brought with her the fair and -haughty Belisa, for whom the shepherd Marsilio suffered such -loving and mortal pangs. Belisa had come to visit Silveria, and -to congratulate her on her newly attained estate, and she wished -likewise to be present at obsequies so celebrated as she hoped -those would be that shepherds so great and so famous were -celebrating. All then came out together from the village, -outside which they found Telesio, with many other shepherds -accompanying him, all clad and adorned in such wise that they -clearly showed that they had come together for a sad and -mournful business. Straightway Telesio ordained, so that the -solemn sacrifices might that day be performed with purer intent -and thoughts more calm, that all the shepherds should come -together on their side, and apart from the shepherdesses, and that -the latter should do the same: whereat the smaller number were -content, and the majority not very satisfied, especially the fond -Marsilio, who had already seen the loveless Belisa, at sight of -whom he was so beside himself and so rapt, as his friends -Orompo, Crisio, and Orfenio clearly perceived, and when they -saw him in such a state, they went up to him, and Orompo said -to him:</p> - -<p>'Take courage, friend Marsilio, take courage, and do not by -your faint-heartedness cause the small spirit of your breast to be -revealed. What if Heaven, moved to compassion of your pain, -has at such a time brought the shepherdess Belisa to these -banks that you may heal it?'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_241"></a>[Pg 241]</span></p> - -<p>'Nay rather the better to end me, as I believe,' replied -Marsilio, 'will she have come to this place, for this and more -must needs be feared from my fortune; but I will do, Orompo, -what you bid, if by chance in this hard plight reason has more -power with me than my feelings.'</p> - -<p>And therewith Marsilio became again somewhat more calm, -and straightway the shepherds on one side, and the shepherdesses -on another, as was ordained by Telesio, began to make their -way to the valley of cypresses, all preserving a wondrous -silence; until Timbrio, astonished to see the coolness and -beauty of the clear Tagus by which he was going, turned to -Elicio who was coming at his side, and said to him:</p> - -<p>'The incomparable beauty of these cool banks, Elicio, causes -me no small wonder; and not without reason, for when one has -seen as I have the spacious banks of the renowned Betis, and -those that deck and adorn the famous Ebro, and the well-known -Pisuerga, and when one in foreign lands has walked by the -banks of the holy Tiber, and the pleasing banks of the Po, -made noted by the fall of the rash youth, and has not failed -to go round the cool spots of the peaceful Sebeto, it must needs -have been a great cause that should move me to wonder at seeing -any others.'</p> - -<p>'You do not go so far out of the way in what you say, as I -believe, discreet Timbrio,' answered Elicio, 'as not to see with -your eyes how right you are to say it; for without doubt you -can believe that the pleasantness and coolness of the banks of -this river excel, as is well known and recognised, all those you -have named, though there should enter among them those of -the distant Xanthus, and of the renowned Amphrysus, and of -the loving Alpheus. For experience holds and has made certain, -that almost in a straight line above the greater part of these -banks appears a sky bright and shining, which with a wide -sweep and with living splendour seems to invite to joy and gladness -the heart that is most estranged from it; and if it is true -that the stars and the sun are sustained, as some say, by the -waters here below, I firmly believe that those of this river are in a -large measure the cause that produces the beauty of the sky that -covers it, or I shall believe that God, for the same reason that -they say He dwells in Heaven, makes here His sojourn for the most -part. The earth that embraces it, clad with a thousand green -adornments, seems to make festival and to rejoice at possessing -in itself a gift so rare and pleasing, and the golden river as -though in exchange, sweetly interweaving itself in its embraces, -fashions, as if with intent, a thousand windings in and out, -which fill the soul of all who behold them with wondrous -pleasure; whence it arises that, though the eyes turn again to -behold it many a time, they do not therefore fail to find in it -things to cause them new pleasure and new wonder. Turn your<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_242"></a>[Pg 242]</span> -eyes then, valiant Timbrio, and see how much its banks are -adorned by the many villages and wealthy farmhouses, which -are seen built along them. Here in every season of the year is -seen the smiling spring in company with fair Venus, her garments -girded up and full of love, and Zephyrus accompanying -her, with his mother Flora in front, scattering with bounteous -hand divers fragrant flowers; and the skill of its inhabitants -has wrought so much that nature, incorporated with art, is -become an artist and art's equal, and from both together has -been formed a third nature to which I cannot give a name. Of -its cultivated gardens, compared with which the gardens of the -Hesperides and of Alcinous, may keep silence, of the dense woods, -of the peaceful olives, green laurels, and rounded myrtles, of its -abundant pastures, joyous valleys, and covered hills, streamlets -and springs which are found on this bank, do not expect me to -say more, save that, if in any part of the earth the Elysian fields -have a place, it is without doubt here. What shall I say of the -skilful working of the lofty wheels, by the ceaseless motion of -which men draw the waters from the deep river, and copiously -irrigate the fields which are distant a long way? Let there be -added to this that on these banks are nurtured the fairest and -most discreet shepherdesses that can be found in the circle of the -earth; as a proof of which, leaving aside that which experience -shows us, and what you, Timbrio, do, since you have been on -them and have seen, it will suffice to take as an example that -shepherdess whom you see there, oh Timbrio.'</p> - -<p>And, saying this, he pointed with his crook to Galatea; and -without saying more, left Timbrio wondering to see the discretion -and words with which he had praised the banks of the -Tagus and Galatea's beauty. And he replied to him that nothing -of what was said could be gainsaid, and in these and other -things they beguiled the tedium of the road, until, coming in -sight of the valley of cypresses, they saw issuing from it almost -as many shepherds and shepherdesses as those who were with -them. All joined together and with peaceful steps began to -enter the sacred valley, the situation of which was so strange -and wondrous that even in the very ones who had seen it many -a time, it caused new admiration and pleasure. On one portion -of the bank of the famous Tagus there rise in four different and -opposite quarters four green and peaceful hills, walls and defenders -as it were of a fair valley which they contain in their midst, -and entrance into it is granted by four other spots. These same -hills close together in such a way that they come to form four -broad and peaceful roads, walled in on all sides by countless -lofty cypresses, set in such order and harmony that even the -very branches of each seem to grow uniformly, and none dares -in the slightest to exceed or go beyond another. The space -there is between cypress and cypress is closed and occupied by<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_243"></a>[Pg 243]</span> -a thousand fragrant rose-bushes and pleasing jessamine, so close -and interwoven as thorny brambles and prickly briars are wont -to be in the hedges of guarded vineyards. From point to point of -these peaceful openings are seen running through the short green -grass clear cool streamlets of pure sweet waters, which have -their birth on the slopes of the same hills. The goal and end of -these roads is a wide round space formed by the declivities and -cypresses, in the midst of which is placed a fountain of cunning -workmanship, built of white and costly marble, made with such -skill and cunning that the beauteous fountains of renowned -Tibur, and the proud ones of ancient Trinacria cannot be compared -to it. With the water of this wondrous fountain are -moistened and sustained the cool grasses of the delightful spot, -and what makes this pleasing situation the more worthy of -esteem and reverence is that it is exempt from the greedy -mouths of simple lambs and gentle sheep, and from any other -kind of flock; for it serves alone as guardian and treasure-house -of the honoured bones of any famous shepherds, who, by the -general decree of all the survivors in the neighbourhood are -determined and ordained to be worthy and deserving of receiving -burial in this famous valley. Therefore there were seen -between the many different trees that were behind the cypresses, -in the space and expanse there was from them to the slopes of -the hills, some tombs, made one of jasper and another of marble, -on the white stones of which one read the names of those who -were buried in them. But the tomb which shone most above all, -and that which showed itself most to the eyes of all, was that of the -famous shepherd Meliso, which, apart from the others, was seen -on one side of the broad space, made of smooth black slates and -of white and well-fashioned alabaster. And at the very moment -the eyes of Telesio beheld it, he turned his face to all that -pleasing company, and said to them with peaceful voice and -piteous tones:</p> - -<p>'There you see, gallant shepherds, discreet and fair shepherdesses, -there you see, I say, the sad tomb wherein repose the -honoured bones of the renowned Meliso, honour and glory of -our banks. Begin then to raise to Heaven your humble hearts, -and with pure purpose, copious tears and deep sighs, intone your -holy hymns and devout prayers, and ask Heaven to consent to -receive in its starry abode the blessed soul of the body that lies -there.'</p> - -<p>As he said this, he went up to one of the cypresses, and -cutting some branches, he made from them a mournful garland -wherewith he crowned his white and venerable brow, beckoning -to the others to do the same. All, moved by his example, in -one moment crowned themselves with the sad branches, and -guided by Telesio, went up to the tomb, where the first thing -Telesio did was to bend the knee and kiss the hard stone of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_244"></a>[Pg 244]</span> -tomb. All did the same, and some there were who, made tender -by the memory of Meliso, left the white marble they were kissing -bedewed with tears. This being done, Telesio bade the -sacred fire be kindled, and in a moment around the tomb were -made many, though small, bonfires, in which only branches of -cypress were burned; and the venerable Telesio began with -solemn and peaceful steps to circle the pyre, and to cast into all -the glowing fires a quantity of sacred sweet-smelling incense, -uttering each time he scattered it, some short and devout prayer -for the departed soul of Meliso, at the end of which he would -raise his trembling voice, all the bystanders with sad and piteous -tone replying thrice 'Amen, amen,' to the mournful sound -of which the neighbouring hills and distant valleys re-echoed, -and the branches of the tall cypresses and of the many other -trees of which the valley was full, stricken by a gentle breeze -that blew, made and formed a dull and saddest whisper, almost -as if in token that they for their part shared the sadness of the -funereal sacrifice. Thrice Telesio circled the tomb, and thrice he -uttered the piteous prayers, and nine times more were heard the -mournful tones of the amen which the shepherds repeated. -This ceremony ended, the aged Telesio leaned against a lofty -cypress which rose at the head of Meliso's tomb, and by turning -his face on every side caused the bystanders to attend to what -he wished to say, and straightway raising his voice as much as -the great number of his years could allow, with marvellous -eloquence he began to praise Meliso's virtues, the integrity of -his blameless life, the loftiness of his intellect, the constancy of -his soul, the graceful gravity of his discourse, and the excellence -of his poetry, and above all the solicitude of his breast to keep -and fulfil the holy religion he had professed, joining to these -other virtues of Meliso of such a kind and so great that, though -the shepherd had not been well known by all who were listening -to Telesio, merely by what he was saying, they would have -been inspired to love him, if he had been alive, and to reverence -him after death. The old man then ended his discourse saying:</p> - -<p>'If the lowliness of my dull understanding, famous shepherds, -were to attain to where Meliso's excellences attained, and to -where attains the desire I have to praise them, and if the weak -and scanty strength begotten by many weary years did not cut -short my voice and breath, sooner would you see this sun that -illumines us bathing once and again in the mighty ocean, than -I should cease from my discourse begun; but since in my -withered age this is not allowed, do you supply what I lack, and -show yourselves grateful to Meliso's cold ashes, praising them -in death as the love constrains you that he had for you in life. -And though a part of this duty touches and concerns us all in -general, those whom it concerns more particularly are the -famous Thyrsis and Damon, as being so well acquainted with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_245"></a>[Pg 245]</span> -him, such friends, such intimates; and so I beg them, as -urgently as I can, to respond to this obligation, supplying in -song with voice more calm and resounding what I have failed to -do by my tears with my faltering one.'</p> - -<p>Telesio said no more, nor indeed had there been need to say -it in order that the shepherds might be moved to do what he -bade them, for straightway, without making any reply, Thyrsis -drew forth his rebeck, and beckoned to Damon to do the same. -They were accompanied straightway by Elicio and Lauso, and all -the shepherds who had instruments there; and in a little while -they made music so sad and pleasing, that though it delighted -the ears, it moved the hearts to give forth tokens of sadness -with the tears the eyes were shedding. To this was joined -the sweet harmony of the little painted birds, that were flitting -through the air, and some sobs that the shepherdesses, already -made tender and moved by Telesio's discourse, and by what the -shepherds were doing, wrung from time to time from their lovely -breasts; and it was of such a kind that the sound of the sad -music and that of the sad harmony of the linnets, larks, and -nightingales, and the bitter sound of the deep groans joining in -unison, all formed together a concert so strange and mournful, -that there is no tongue that could describe it. A little while -after, the other instruments ceasing, only the four of Thyrsis, -Damon, Elicio, and Lauso were heard. These going up to -Meliso's tomb, placed themselves on its four sides, a token from -which all present understood that they were about to sing something. -And so they lent them silence marvellous and subdued, -and straightway the famous Thyrsis, aided by Elicio, Damon, -and Lauso, began, with voice loud, sad and resounding, to sing -in this wise:</p> - -<p class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Such is the cause of our grief-stricken moan,</span><br /> -Not ours alone, but all the world's as well,<br /> -Shepherds, your sad and mournful chant intone!</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let our sighs break the air, and let them swell</span><br /> -E'en unto Heaven in wailings, fashionèd<br /> -From righteous love and grief unspeakable!</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Mine eyes the tender dew shall ever shed</span><br /> -Of loving tears, until the memory,<br /> -Meliso, of thine exploits shall be dead.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">L<small>AUSO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Meliso, worthy deathless history,</span><br /> -Worthy to enjoy on holy Heaven's throne<br /> -Glory and life through all eternity.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">What time I raise myself to heights unknown</span><br /> -That I may sing his deeds as I think best,<br /> -Shepherds, your sad and mournful chant intone!</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_246"></a>[Pg 246]</span></p> - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">With welling tears, Meliso, that ne'er rest,</span><br /> -As best I can, thy friendship I reward,<br /> -With pious prayers, and holy incense blest.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy death, alas! our happiness hath marred,</span><br /> -And hath to mourning changed our past delight,<br /> -Unto a tender grief that presseth hard.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">L<small>AUSO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Those fair and blissful days when all was bright,</span><br /> -When the world revelled in thy presence sweet,<br /> -Have been transformed to cold and wretched night.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh Death, that with thy violence so fleet</span><br /> -Didst such a life to lowly earth restore,—<br /> -What man will not thy diligence defeat?</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Since thou, oh Death, didst deal that blow with power,</span><br /> -Which brought to earth our stay 'midst fortune's stress,<br /> -Ne'er is the meadow clad with grass or flower.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ever this woe remembering, I repress</span><br /> -My bliss, if any bliss my feeling knows,<br /> -Myself I harrow with new bitterness.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">L<small>AUSO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">When is lost bliss recovered? Do not woes,</span><br /> -E'en though we seek them not, ever assail?<br /> -When amidst mortal strife find we repose?</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">When in the mortal fray did life prevail?</span><br /> -And when was Time, that swiftly flies away,<br /> -By harness stout withstood, or coat of mail?</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Our life is but a dream, an idle play,</span><br /> -A vain enchantment that doth disappear,<br /> -What time it seemed the firmest in its day.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">A day that darkeneth in mid career,</span><br /> -And on its track close follows gloomy night,<br /> -Veiled in shadows born of chilly fear.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">L<small>AUSO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">But thou, renownèd shepherd, in a bright</span><br /> -And happy hour didst from this raging sea<br /> -Pass to the wondrous regions of delight.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">After that thou hadst heard and judged the plea</span><br /> -Of the great shepherd of the Spanish plain<br /> -In the Venetian<a id="FNanchor_117" href="#Footnote_117" class="fnanchor">[117]</a> sheepfold righteously.</p> -</div> -</div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_247"></a>[Pg 247]</span></p> - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">And after thou hadst bravely borne the pain,</span><br /> -E'en the untimely stroke of Fortune fell,<br /> -Which made Italia sad, and even Spain.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"> After thou hadst withdrawn so long to dwell,</span><br /> -With the nine maidens on Parnassus' crest,<br /> -In solitude and calm unspeakable;</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">L<small>AUSO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"> Despite the clang of weapons from the East</span><br /> -And Gallic rage, thy lofty spirit lay<br /> -Tranquil, naught moved it from its peaceful rest.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Twas then Heaven willed, upon a mournful day,</span><br /> -That the cold hand of wrathful death should come,<br /> -And with thy life our bliss should snatch away.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></div> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Thy bliss was better, thou didst seek thy home,</span><br /> -But we were left to bitterness untold,<br /> -Unending and eternal was our doom.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> - - <div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">The sacred maiden choir we did behold</span><br /> -Of those that dwell upon Parnassus' height<br /> -Rending in agony their locks of gold.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">L<small>AUSO.</small></p> - - <div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">The blind boy's mighty rival by thy plight</span><br /> -Was moved to tears; then to the world below<br /> -He showed himself a niggard of his light.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Amidst the clash of arms, the fiery glow,</span><br /> -By reason of the wily Greek's deceit,<br /> -The Teucrians sad felt not so great a woe,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">As those who wept, as those who did repeat</span><br /> -Meliso's name, the shepherds, in the hour<br /> -When of his death the tidings did them greet.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Their brows with fragrant varied flowers no more</span><br /> -Did they adorn, with mellow voice no song<br /> -Sang they of love as in the days of yore.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Around their brows the mournful cypress clung,</span><br /> -And in sad oft-repeated bitter moan<br /> -They chanted lays of grief with sorrowing tongue.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_248"></a>[Pg 248]</span></p> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wherefore, since we to-day once more have shown</span><br /> -That we are mindful of our cruel wound,<br /> -Shepherds, your sad and mournful chant intone!</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">The bitter plight that fills with grief profound</span><br /> -Our souls, is such that adamant will be<br /> -The breast wherein no place for tears is found.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">L<small>AUSO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let countless tongues the soul of constancy</span><br /> -Extol in song, the loyal breast he showed,<br /> -Undaunted ever in adversity.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Against the cruel disdain that ever glowed</span><br /> -Within the wrathful breast of Phyllis sweet,<br /> -Firm as a rock against the sea, he stood.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">The verses he hath sung let all repeat,</span><br /> -Let them, as tokens of his genius rare,<br /> -In the world's memory find eternal seat.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Let Fame, that spreadeth tidings everywhere,</span><br /> -Through lands that differ far from ours, his name<br /> -With rapid steps and busy pinions bear.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">From his most chaste and love-enraptured flame</span><br /> -Let the most wanton breast example take,<br /> -And that which fire less perfect doth inflame.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">L<small>AUSO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Blessèd art thou, though fortune did forsake</span><br /> -Thee countless times, for thou dost joyous live,<br /> -No shadow now doth thy contentment break.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">This mortal lowliness that thou didst leave</span><br /> -Behind, more full of changes than the moon,<br /> -Little doth weary thee, doth little grieve.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Humility thou changedst for the boon</span><br /> -Of loftiness, evil for good, and death<br /> -For life—thy fears and hopes were surely one.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">He who lives well, though he in semblance hath</span><br /> -Fallen, doth soar to Heaven on lofty wing,<br /> -As thou, Meliso, by the flowery path.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">There, there, from throats immortal issuing,</span><br /> -The voice resounds, that glory doth recite,<br /> -Glory repeateth, glory sweet doth sing.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">There the serene fair countenance and bright</span><br /> -We see, and in the sight thereof behold<br /> -Glory's supreme perfection with delight.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">My feeble voice to praise thee waxeth bold,</span><br /> -Yet, e'en as my desire doth greater grow,<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_249"></a>[Pg 249]</span>In check my fear, Meliso, doth it hold.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">For that which I, with mind uplifted, now</span><br /> -View of that hallowed mind of thine, and see<br /> -Exalted far above all human show,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Hath made my mind a coward utterly;</span><br /> -I may but press my lips together, may<br /> -But raise my brows in wondering ecstasy.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">L<small>AUSO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">When thou dost go, thou fillest with dismay</span><br /> -All who their pleasure in thy presence sought;<br /> -Evil draws nigh, for thou dost go away.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">In days gone by the rustic shepherds taught</span><br /> -Themselves thy wisdom, in that self-same hour<br /> -They gained new understanding, wiser thought.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">But, ah! there came the inevitable hour,</span><br /> -When thou departedst, and we did remain,</p> -With hearts dead, and with minds bereft of power. - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">We celebrate this memory of pain,</span><br /> -We who our love for thee in life have shown,<br /> -E'en as in death we mourn thee once again.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">So to the sound of your confusèd moan,</span><br /> -New breath the while receiving ceaselessly,<br /> -Shepherds, your sad and mournful chant intone!</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Even as is the bitter agony,</span><br /> -So be the welling tears, so be the sighs,<br /> -Wherewith the wind is swollen that hastens by.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Little I ask, little the boon I prize,</span><br /> -But ye must feel all that my tongue to you<br /> -Can now unfold with feeble, stammering cries.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">But Phoebus now departs, and robs of hue</span><br /> -The earth that doth her sable mantle don.<br /> -So till the longed-for dawn shall come anew,<br /> -Shepherds, no more your mournful chant intone!</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Thyrsis, who had begun the sad and mournful elegy, was the -one who ended it, without any of those that had listened to the -lamentable song ending their tears for a good while. But at -this moment the venerable Telesio said to them:</p> - -<p>'Since we have in part, gallant and courteous shepherds, -complied with the debt we owe the blessed Meliso, impose -silence for the nonce on your tender tears, and give some truce -to your grievous sighs, since by neither can we make good the -loss we bewail; and though human sorrow cannot fail to show -sorrow when ill befalls, yet it is necessary to temper the excess -of its attacks with the reason that attends on the discreet. And -although tears and sighs are tokens of the love cherished for -him who is bewailed, the souls for which they are shed gain -more profit by the pious sacrifices and devout prayers which are -offered for them, than if all the ocean main were to be made<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_250"></a>[Pg 250]</span> -tears and distil through the eyes of all the world. And for this -cause and because we must give some relief to our wearied -bodies, it will be well to leave what remains for us to do till the -coming day, and for the present to make a call on your wallets, -and comply with what nature enjoins on you.'</p> - -<p>And in saying this, he gave orders for all the shepherdesses to -abide on one side of the valley near Meliso's tomb, leaving with -them six of the oldest shepherds who were there, and the rest -were in another part a little way from them. And straightway -with what they carried in their wallets and with the water of the -clear spring they satisfied the common necessity of hunger, ending -at a time when already night was clothing with one same colour -all things contained beneath our horizon, and the shining moon -was showing her fair and radiant face in all the fulness she has -when most her ruddy brother imparts to her his rays. But a -little while after, a troubled wind arising, there began to be seen -some black clouds, which in a measure hid the light of the chaste -goddess, making shadows on the earth; tokens from which some -shepherds who were there, masters in rustic astrology, expected -some coming hurricane and tempest. But all ended only in the -night remaining grey and calm, and in their settling down -to rest on the cool grass, yielding their eyes to sweet and peaceful -slumber, as all did save some who shared as sentinels the -guardianship of the shepherdesses, and save the guardian of -some torches that were left blazing round Meliso's tomb. But -now that calm silence prevailed through all that sacred valley, -and now that slothful Morpheus had with his moist branch -touched the brows and eyelids of all those present, at a time when -the wandering stars had gone a good way round our pole, -marking out the punctual courses of the night: at that moment -from the very tomb of Meliso arose a great and wondrous fire, -so bright and shining that in an instant all the dark valley was -in such brightness, as if the very sun had illumined it. By -which sudden marvel the shepherds who were awake near the -tomb, fell astonished to the ground dazzled and blind with the -light of the transparent fire, which produced a contrary effect in -the others who were sleeping; for when they were stricken by -its rays, heavy slumber fled from them, and they opened, -though with some difficulty, their sleeping eyes, and seeing the -strangeness of the light that revealed itself to them, remained -confounded and amazed; and so, one standing, another reclining, -another kneeling, each gazed on the bright fire with amazement -and terror. Telesio seeing all this, arraying himself in a -moment in the sacred vestments, accompanied by Elicio, -Thyrsis, Damon, Lauso, and other spirited shepherds, gradually -began to draw nigh to the fire, with the intention of seeking -with some lawful and fitting exorcisms to extinguish, or to -understand whence came the strange vision which showed itself<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_251"></a>[Pg 251]</span> -to them. But when they were drawing nigh to the glowing -flames, they saw them dividing into two parts, and in their -midst appearing a nymph so fair and graceful, that it set them -in greater wonder than the sight of the blazing fire; she -appeared clad in a rich and fine web of silver, gathered and -drawn up at the waist in such wise that half of her legs revealed -themselves arrayed in buskins or close-fitting foot-gear, gilded -and full of countless knots of variegated ribbons. Over the -silver web she wore another vestment of green and delicate silk, -which, wafted from side to side by a light breeze that was gently -blowing, seemed most exquisite. She wore scattered over her -shoulders the longest and the ruddiest locks that human eyes ever -saw, and upon them a garland made of green laurel only. Her -right hand was occupied by a tall branch of the yellow palm of -victory, and her left with another of the green olive of peace. -And with these adornments she showed herself so fair and -wonderful, that all that beheld her she kept rapt by her appearance -in such wise that, casting from them their first fear, they -approached with sure steps the neighbourhood of the fire, -persuading themselves that from so fair a vision no harm could -happen to them. And all being, as has been said, ravished to -see her, the beauteous nymph opened her arms on each side, -and made the divided flames divide the more and part, to give -an opportunity that she might the better be seen; and straightway -raising her calm countenance, with grace and strange -dignity she began words such as these:</p> - -<p>'By the results that my unexpected appearance has caused in -your hearts, discreet and pleasing company, you can gather that -it is not by virtue of evil spirits that this form of mine has been -fashioned which presents itself here to you; for one of the -means by which we recognise whether a vision be good or bad, -is by the results it produces on the mind of him who beholds it. -For in the case of the good, though it cause in him wonder and -alarm, such wonder and alarm comes mingled with a pleasant -disturbance which in a little while calms and satisfies him, -contrary to what is caused by the malignant vision, which brings -alarm, discontent, terror, but never assurance. Experience will -make clear to you this truth when you know me, and when I -tell you who I am, and the cause that has moved me to come -from my distant dwelling-place to visit you. And because I do -not wish to keep you in suspense with the desire you have to -know who I am, know, discreet shepherds and beauteous shepherdesses, -that I am one of the nine maidens, who on the lofty -and sacred peaks of Parnassus have their own and famous -abode. My name is Calliope, my duty and disposition it is to -favour and aid the divine spirits, whose laudable practice it is to -busy themselves in the marvellous and never duly lauded science -of poetry. I am she who made the old blind man of Smyrna,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_252"></a>[Pg 252]</span> -famous only through him, win eternal fame; she who will make -the Mantuan Tityrus live for all the ages to come, until time -end; and she who makes the writings, as uncouth as learned, of -the most ancient Ennius, to be esteemed from the past to the -present age. In short, I am she who favoured Catullus, she -who made Horace renowned, Propertius eternal, and I am she -who with immortal fame has preserved the memory of the -renowned Petrarch, and she who made the famous Dante -descend to the dark circles of Hell, and ascend to the bright -spheres of Heaven. I am she who aided the divine Ariosto to -weave the varied and fair web he fashioned; she who in this -country of yours had intimate friendship with the witty Boscan, -and with the famous Garcilaso, with the learned and wise -Castillejo, and the ingenious Torres Naharro, by whose -intellects and by their fruits your country was enriched and I -satisfied. I am she who moved the pen of the celebrated Aldana, -and that which never left the side of Don Fernando de Acuña; -and she who prides herself on the close friendship and converse -she always had with the blessed soul of the body that lies in this -tomb. The funeral rites performed by you in his honour not -only have gladdened his spirit, which now paces through the -eternal realm, but have so satisfied me that I have come perforce -to thank you for so laudable and pious a custom as this is, -which is in use among you. Therefore I promise you, with the -sincerity that can be expected from my virtue, in reward for the -kindness you have shown to the ashes of my dear beloved -Meliso, always to bring it to pass that on your banks there may -never be wanting shepherds to excel all those of the other banks -in the joyous science of poetry. I will likewise always favour -your counsels, and guide your understanding so that you may -never give an unjust vote, when you decide who is deserving of -being buried in this sacred valley; for it will not be right that -an honour, so special and distinguished, and one which is only -deserved by white and tuneful swans, should come to be enjoyed -by black and hoarse crows. And so it seems to me that it will be -right to give you some information now about some distinguished -men who live in this Spain of yours, and about some in the -distant Indies subject to her; and if all or any one of these -should be brought by his good fortune to end the course of his -days on these banks, without any doubt you can grant him -burial in this famous spot. Together with this I wish to warn -you not to think the first I shall name worthy of more honour -than the last, for herein I do not intend to keep any order, -because, though I understand the difference between the one -and the other, and the others among themselves, I wish to leave -the decision of it in doubt, in order that your intellects may have -something to practise on in understanding the difference of -theirs, of which their works will give proof. I shall go through<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_253"></a>[Pg 253]</span> -their names as they come to my memory, so that none may -claim that it is a favour I have done him in having remembered -him before another, for, as I tell you, discreet shepherds, I leave -you to give them afterwards the place which seems to you to be -due to them of right; and, in order that with less trouble and -annoyance you may be attentive to my long narration, I will -make it of such a kind that you may only feel displeasure at its -brevity.'</p> - -<p>The fair nymph, having said this, was silent and straightway -took a harp she had beside her, which up till that time had been -seen by no one, and, as she began to play it, it seemed that the -sky began to brighten, and that the moon illumined the earth -with new and unwonted splendour; the trees, despite a gentle -breeze that was blowing, held their branches still; and the eyes -of all who were there did not dare to lower their lids, in order -that for the little while they lingered in raising, they might not -be robbed of the glory they enjoyed in beholding the beauty of -the nymph, and indeed all would have wished all their five senses -to be changed into that of hearing only; with such strangeness, -with such sweetness, with so great a charm did the fair muse -play her harp. After she had sounded a few chords, with the -most resounding voice that could be imagined, she began with -verses such as these:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p class="p1 center">CALLIOPE'S SONG.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">To the sweet sound of my harmonious lyre,</span><br /> -Shepherds, I pray you lend attentive ear,<br /> -The hallowed breath of the Castalian choir<br /> -Breathing therein and in my voice ye'll hear:<br /> -Lo! it will make you wonder and admire<br /> -With souls enraptured and with happy fear,<br /> -What time I do recount to you on earth<br /> -The geniuses that Heaven claims for their worth.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_254"></a>[Pg 254]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">It is my purpose but of those to sing</span><br /> -Of whose life Fate hath not yet cut the thread,<br /> -Of those who rightly merit ye should bring<br /> -Their ashes to this place when they are dead,<br /> -Where, despite busy Time on hasty wing,<br /> -Through this praiseworthy duty renderèd<br /> -By you, for countless years may live their fame,<br /> -Their radiant work, and their renownèd name.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">And he who doth with righteous title merit</span><br /> -Of high renown to win a noble store,<br /> -Is D<small>ON</small> A<small>LONSO</small>;<a id="FNanchor_118" href="#Footnote_118" class="fnanchor">[118]</a> he 'tis doth inherit<br /> -From holy Phoebus heavenly wisdom's flower,<br /> -In whom shineth with lofty glow the spirit<br /> -Of warlike Mars, and his unrivalled power,<br /> -L<small>EIVA</small> his surname in whose glorious sound<br /> -Italy, Spain herself, hath lustre found.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Arauco's wars and Spanish worth hath sung</span><br /> -Another who the name A<small>LONSO</small> hath.<br /> -Far hath he wandered all the realms among<br /> -Where Glaucus dwells, and felt his furious wrath;<br /> -His voice was not untuned, nor was his tongue,<br /> -For full of strange and wondrous grace were both,<br /> -Wherefore E<small>RCILLA</small><a id="FNanchor_119" href="#Footnote_119" class="fnanchor">[119]</a> doth deserve to gain<br /> -Memorial everlasting in this plain.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_255"></a>[Pg 255]</span></p> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of J<small>UAN DE</small> S<small>ILVA</small><a id="FNanchor_120" href="#Footnote_120" class="fnanchor">[120]</a> I to you declare</span><br /> -That he deserves all glory and all praise,<br /> -Not only for that Phoebus holds him dear,<br /> -But for the worth that is in him always;<br /> -Thereto his works a testimony clear<br /> -Will be, wherein his intellect doth blaze<br /> -With brightness which illumineth the eyes<br /> -Of fools, dazzling at times the keen and wise.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Be the rich number of my list increased</span><br /> -By him to whom Heaven doth such favour show<br /> -That by the breath of Phoebus is his breast<br /> -Sustained, and by Mars' valour here below;<br /> -Thou matchest Homer, if thou purposest<br /> -To write, thy pen unto such heights doth go,<br /> -D<small>IEGO</small> O<small>SORIO</small>,<a id="FNanchor_121" href="#Footnote_121" class="fnanchor">[121]</a> that to all mankind<br /> -Truly is known thy loftiness of mind.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">By all the ways whereby much-speaking fame</span><br /> -A cavalier illustrious can praise,<br /> -By these it doth his glorious worth proclaim,<br /> -His deeds the while setting his name ablaze;<br /> -His lively wit, his virtue doth inflame<br /> -More than one tongue from height to height to raise<br /> -F<small>RANCISCO DE</small> M<small>ENDOZA'S</small><a id="FNanchor_122" href="#Footnote_122" class="fnanchor">[122]</a> high career,<br /> -Nor doth the flight of time bring them to fear.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_256"></a>[Pg 256]</span></p> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Happy D<small>ON</small> D<small>IEGO, DE</small> S<small>ARMIENTO</small><a id="FNanchor_123" href="#Footnote_123" class="fnanchor">[123]</a> bright,</span><br /> -C<small>ARVAJAL</small> famous, nursling of our choir,<br /> -Of Hippocrene the radiance and delight,<br /> -Youthful in years, old in poetic fire;<br /> -Thy name will go from age to age, despite<br /> -The waters of oblivion, rising higher,<br /> -Made famous by thy works, from grace to grace,<br /> -From tongue to tongue, and from race unto race.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Now chief of all I would to you display</span><br /> -Ripeness of intellect in tender years,<br /> -Gallantry, skill that no man can gainsay,<br /> -A bearing courteous, worth that knows no fears;<br /> -One that in Tuscan, as in Spanish, may<br /> -His talent show, as he who did rehearse<br /> -The tale of Este's line and did enthral,<br /> -And he is D<small>ON</small> G<small>UTIERRE</small> C<small>ARVAJAL</small>.<a id="FNanchor_124" href="#Footnote_124" class="fnanchor">[124]</a></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">L<small>UIS DE</small> V<small>ARGAS</small>,<a id="FNanchor_125" href="#Footnote_125" class="fnanchor">[125]</a> thou in whom I see</span><br /> -A genius ripe in thy few tender days,<br /> -Strive thou to win the prize of victory,<br /> -The guerdon of my sisters and their praise;<br /> -So near are thou thereto, that thou to me<br /> -Seemest triumphant, for in countless ways<br /> -Virtuous and wise, thou strivest that thy fame<br /> -May brightly shine with clear and living flame.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Honour doth Tagus' beauteous bank receive</span><br /> -From countless heavenly spirits dwelling there,<br /> -Who make this present age wherein we live,<br /> -Than that of Greeks and Romans happier;<br /> -Concerning them this message do I give<br /> -That they are worthy of sepulture here,<br /> -And proof thereof their works have to us given,<br /> -Which point us out the way that leads to Heaven.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Two famous doctors first themselves present,</span><br /> -In Phoebus' sciences of foremost name,<br /> -The twain in age alone are different,<br /> -In character and wit they are the same;<br /> -All near and far they fill with wonderment,<br /> -They win amongst their fellows so much fame<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_257"></a>[Pg 257]</span> -By their exalted wisdom and profound<br /> -That soon they needs must all the world astound.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The name that cometh first into my song,</span><br /> -Of the twain whom I now to praise make bold,<br /> -Is C<small>AMPUZANO</small>,<a id="FNanchor_126" href="#Footnote_126" class="fnanchor">[126]</a> great the great among,<br /> -Whom as a second Phoebus ye can hold;<br /> -His lofty wit, his more than human tongue,<br /> -Doth a new universe to us unfold<br /> -Of Indies and of glories better far,<br /> -As better than gold is wisdom's guiding star.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Doctor S<small>UÁREZ</small> is the next I sing,</span><br /> -And S<small>OSA</small><a id="FNanchor_127" href="#Footnote_127" class="fnanchor">[127]</a> is the name he adds thereto—<br /> -He who with skilful tongue doth everything<br /> -That free from blemish is and best, pursue;<br /> -Whoso should quench within the wondrous spring<br /> -His thirst, as he did, will not need to view<br /> -With eye of envy learnèd Homer's praise,<br /> -Nor his who sang to us of Troy ablaze.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of Doctor B<small>AZA</small>,<a id="FNanchor_128" href="#Footnote_128" class="fnanchor">[128]</a> if of him I might</span><br /> -Say what I feel, I without doubt maintain,<br /> -That I would fill all present with delight;<br /> -His learning, virtue, and his charm are plain<br /> -First have I been to raise him to the height<br /> -Where now he stands, and I am she who fain<br /> -Would make his name eternal whilst the Lord<br /> -Of Delos shall his radiant light afford.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If fame should bring the tidings to your ear</span><br /> -Of the strange works a famous mind displays,<br /> -Conceptions lofty, well-ordered, and clear,<br /> -Learning that would the listener amaze;<br /> -Things that the thought checketh in mid career,<br /> -And tongue cannot express, but straightway stays—<br /> -Whene'er ye are in trouble and in doubt<br /> -'Tis the Licentiate D<small>AZA</small><a id="FNanchor_129" href="#Footnote_129" class="fnanchor">[129]</a> leads you out.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_258"></a>[Pg 258]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Master G<small>ARAI'S</small><a id="FNanchor_130" href="#Footnote_130" class="fnanchor">[130]</a> melodious works incite</span><br /> -Me to extol him more than all beside;<br /> -Thou, fame, excelling time of hasty flight,<br /> -His celebration deem a work of praise;<br /> -Fame, thou wilt find the fame he gives more bright<br /> -Than is thine own in spreading far and wide<br /> -His praise, for thou must, speaking of his fame,<br /> -From many-tongued to truthful change thy name.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">That intellect, which, leaving far behind</span><br /> -Man's greatest, doth to the divine aspire,<br /> -Which in Castilian doth no pleasure find—<br /> -The heroic verse of Rome doth him inspire;<br /> -New Homer in Mantuan new combined<br /> -Is Master C<small>ÓRDOVA</small>.<a id="FNanchor_131" href="#Footnote_131" class="fnanchor">[131]</a> Worthy his lyre<br /> -Of praise in happy Spain, in every land,<br /> -Where shines the sun, where ocean laves the strand.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Doctor F<small>RANCISCO</small> D<small>ÍAZ</small>,<a id="FNanchor_132" href="#Footnote_132" class="fnanchor">[132]</a> I can well</span><br /> -Assure my shepherds here concerning thee,<br /> -That with glad heart and joy unspeakable<br /> -They can thy praises sing unceasingly;<br /> -And if I do not on thy praises dwell—<br /> -The highest is thy due, and worthily—<br /> -'Tis that our time is short, nor do I know<br /> -How I can e'er repay thee what I owe.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">L<small>UJÁN</small>,<a id="FNanchor_133" href="#Footnote_133" class="fnanchor">[133]</a> who with thy toga merited</span><br /> -Dost thine own Spain and foreign lands delight.<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_259"></a>[Pg 259]</span> -Who with thy sweet and well-known muse dost spread<br /> -Thy fame abroad to Heaven's loftiest height,<br /> -Life shall I give thee after thou art dead,<br /> -And I shall cause, in swift and rapid flight,<br /> -The fame of thine unequalled mind to roll<br /> -And spread from ours unto the opposing pole.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">His lofty mind doth a Licentiate show,</span><br /> -And worth,—'tis a beloved friend of yours—<br /> -I mean J<small>UAN DE</small> V<small>ERGARA</small>,<a id="FNanchor_134" href="#Footnote_134" class="fnanchor">[134]</a> whom ye know,<br /> -An honour to this happy land of ours;<br /> -By a clear open pathway he doth go,<br /> -'Tis I that guide aright his steps and powers.<br /> -Unto his height to rise is my reward,<br /> -His mind and virtue joy to me afford.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">That my bold song may praise and glory gain,</span><br /> -Another shall I name to you, from whom<br /> -My song to-day shall greater force attain<br /> -And to the height of my desire shall come;<br /> -And this it is that maketh me refrain<br /> -From more than naming him and finding room<br /> -To sing how lofty genius hath been sung<br /> -By D<small>ON</small> A<small>LONSO DE</small> M<small>ORALES'</small><a id="FNanchor_135" href="#Footnote_135" class="fnanchor">[135]</a> tongue.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Over the rugged steep unto the fane</span><br /> -Where dwelleth fame, there climbs and draweth near<br /> -A noble youth, who breaks with might and main<br /> -Though every hindrance, though 'tis fraught with fear,<br /> -And needs must come so nigh that it is plain<br /> -That fame doth in prophetic song declare<br /> -The laurel which it hath prepared ere now,<br /> -H<small>ERNANDO</small> M<small>ALDONADO</small>,<a id="FNanchor_136" href="#Footnote_136" class="fnanchor">[136]</a> is for thy brow.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Adorned with noble laurel here ye see</span><br /> -His learned brow, who hath such glory found<br /> -In every science, every art, that he<br /> -O'er all the globe is even now renowned;<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_260"></a>[Pg 260]</span> -Oh golden age, oh happy century,<br /> -With such a man as this worthily crowned!<br /> -What century, what age doth with thee vie,<br /> -When M<small>ARCO</small> A<small>NTONIO DE LA</small> V<small>EGA</small><a id="FNanchor_137" href="#Footnote_137" class="fnanchor">[137]</a>'s nigh?</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">A D<small>IEGO</small> is the next I call to mind,</span><br /> -Who hath in truth M<small>ENDOZA</small><a id="FNanchor_138" href="#Footnote_138" class="fnanchor">[138]</a> for his name,<br /> -Worthy that history should her maker find<br /> -In him alone, and soar as soars his fame;<br /> -His learning and his virtue, which, enshrined<br /> -In every heart, the whole world doth acclaim,<br /> -Absent and present both alike astound,<br /> -Whether in near or distant nations found.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">High Phoebus an acquaintance doth possess—</span><br /> -Acquaintance say I? Nay, a trusty friend,<br /> -In whom alone he findeth happiness,<br /> -A treasurer of knowledge without end;<br /> -'Tis he who of set purpose doth repress<br /> -Himself, so that his all he may not spend,<br /> -D<small>IEGO</small> D<small>URÁN</small>,<a id="FNanchor_139" href="#Footnote_139" class="fnanchor">[139]</a> in whom we ever find,<br /> -And shall find, wisdom, worth, and force of mind.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">But who is he who sings his agonies</span><br /> -With voice resounding, and with matchless taste?<br /> -Phoebus, and sage Arion, Orpheus wise,<br /> -Find ever their abode within his breast;<br /> -E'en from the realms where first the dawn doth rise,<br /> -Unto the distant regions of the west.<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_261"></a>[Pg 261]</span> -Is he renowned and loved right loyally,<br /> -For, L<small>ÓPEZ</small> M<small>ALDONADO</small>,<a id="FNanchor_140" href="#Footnote_140" class="fnanchor">[140]</a> thou art he.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who could the praises, shepherds mine, recite</span><br /> -Of him ye love, a shepherd crowned by fame,<br /> -Brightest of all the shepherds that are bright,<br /> -Who is to all known by F<small>ILIDA'S</small> name?<br /> -The skill, the learning and the choice delight,<br /> -The rare intelligence, the heart aflame,<br /> -Of L<small>UIS DE</small> M<small>ONTALVO</small><a id="FNanchor_141" href="#Footnote_141" class="fnanchor">[141]</a> aye assure<br /> -Glory and honour whilst the heavens endure.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">His temples now let holy Ebro bind</span><br /> -With ivy evergreen and olive white,<br /> -And with acanthus golden, may he find<br /> -In joyous song his fame forever bright:<br /> -The fruitful Nile hath his renown resigned,<br /> -For Ebro's ancient worth to such a height<br /> -P<small>EDRO DE</small> L<small>IÑÁN'S</small><a id="FNanchor_142" href="#Footnote_142" class="fnanchor">[142]</a> subtle pen doth lift,<br /> -Sum of the bliss which is Apollo's gift.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">I think upon the lofty soul and rare</span><br /> -By D<small>ON</small> A<small>LONSO DE</small> V<small>ALDÉS</small><a id="FNanchor_143" href="#Footnote_143" class="fnanchor">[143]</a> possessed,<br /> -And am spurred on to sing and to declare<br /> -That he excels the rarest and the best;<br /> -This hath he shown already, and more clear<br /> -By the elegance and grace wherewith his breast<br /> -He doth reveal, with bitter pangs distraught,<br /> -Praising the ill that cruel Love hath wrought.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Before an intellect in wonder bow,</span><br /> -Wherein all that the wish can ask is found.<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_262"></a>[Pg 262]</span> -An intellect, that though it liveth now<br /> -On earth, is with the pomp of Heaven crowned;<br /> -All that I see and hear and read and know<br /> -Of P<small>EDRO DE</small> P<small>ADILLA</small><a id="FNanchor_144" href="#Footnote_144" class="fnanchor">[144]</a> the renowned,<br /> -Whether he treat of peace or war's alarm,<br /> -Brings fresh delight and wonder by its charm.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">G<small>ASPAR</small> A<small>LFONSO</small>,<a id="FNanchor_145" href="#Footnote_145" class="fnanchor">[145]</a> thou who wingst thy flight</span><br /> -Unto the immortal realms, so orderest<br /> -That I can scarce thy praises all recite,<br /> -If I must praise thee as thou meritest;<br /> -The pleasing, fruitful plants that on the height<br /> -Of our renowned Parnassus find their nest,<br /> -All offer wealthy laurels for a crown<br /> -To circle and adorn thy brows alone.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of C<small>RISTOVAL DE</small> M<small>ESA</small><a id="FNanchor_146" href="#Footnote_146" class="fnanchor">[146]</a> I can say</span><br /> -That to your vale he will an honour be;<br /> -While he is living, nay, when life away<br /> -Hath fled, still ye can praise him fittingly;<br /> -His lofty weighty style can win to-day<br /> -Renown and honour, and the melody<br /> -Of his heroic verse, though silent fame<br /> -Remain, and I remember not his name.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">D<small>ON</small> P<small>EDRO DE</small> R<small>IBERA</small><a id="FNanchor_147" href="#Footnote_147" class="fnanchor">[147]</a> doth, ye know,</span><br /> -Wealth to your banks, and beauty, shepherds, bring,<br /> -Wherefore give him the honour that ye owe,<br /> -For I will be the first his praise to sing:<br /> -His virtue, his sweet muse doth clearly show<br /> -A noble subject, where, on noisy wing,<br /> -Fame, hundred thousand fames, their powers might spend<br /> -And strive his praises only to extend.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thou, who didst bring the treasure manifold</span><br /> -Of verse in a new form the shores unto<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_263"></a>[Pg 263]</span> -Of the fair fruitful stream, whose bed of gold<br /> -Maketh it famous wheresoe'er it flow,<br /> -Thy glorious fame I promise to uphold<br /> -With the applause and reverence that we owe<br /> -To thee, C<small>ALDERA</small>,<a id="FNanchor_148" href="#Footnote_148" class="fnanchor">[148]</a> and thy peerless mind;<br /> -With laurel, ivy, I thy brows shall bind.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Let fame, and let the memory I possess,</span><br /> -For ever famous make the memory<br /> -Of him who hath transformed to loveliness<br /> -The glory of our Christian poesy;<br /> -The knowledge and the charm let all confess,<br /> -From the dayspring to where the day doth die,<br /> -Of great F<small>RANCISCO DE</small> G<small>UZMÁN</small>,<a id="FNanchor_149" href="#Footnote_149" class="fnanchor">[149]</a> whose are<br /> -The arts of Phoebus as the arts of war.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of the Captain S<small>ALCEDO</small><a id="FNanchor_150" href="#Footnote_150" class="fnanchor">[150]</a> 'tis quite clear</span><br /> -That his celestial genius doth attain<br /> -Unto the point most lofty, keen and rare,<br /> -That can be fancied by the thought of man;<br /> -If I compare him, him I do compare<br /> -Unto himself—Comparisons, 'tis plain,<br /> -Are useless, and to measure worth so true,<br /> -All measures must be faulty, or askew.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">By reason of the wit and curious grace</span><br /> -Of T<small>OMÁS DE</small> G<small>RACIÁN</small>,<a id="FNanchor_151" href="#Footnote_151" class="fnanchor">[151]</a> I pray, permit<br /> -That I should choose within this vale a place<br /> -Which shall his virtue, knowledge, worth, befit;<br /> -And if it run with his deserts apace,<br /> -'Twill be so lofty and so exquisite<br /> -That few, methinks, may hope with him to vie,<br /> -His genius and his virtues soar so high.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_264"></a>[Pg 264]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fain would B<small>APTISTA DE</small> V<small>IVAR</small><a id="FNanchor_152" href="#Footnote_152" class="fnanchor">[152]</a> you praise,</span><br /> -Sisters, with unpremeditated lyre;<br /> -Such grace, discretion, prudence, he displays,<br /> -That, muses though ye be, ye can admire;<br /> -He will not hymn Narcissus in his lays<br /> -Nor the disdains that lonely Echo tire,<br /> -But he will sing his cares which had their birth<br /> -'Twixt sad forgetfulness and hope of mirth.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_265"></a>[Pg 265]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Now terror new, now new alarm and fear</span><br /> -Cometh upon me and o'erpowereth me,<br /> -Only because I would, yet cannot bear<br /> -Unto the loftiest heights of dignity<br /> -Grave B<small>ALTASAR</small>, who doth as surname wear<br /> -T<small>OLEDO</small>,<a id="FNanchor_153" href="#Footnote_153" class="fnanchor">[153]</a> though my fancy whispereth me<br /> -That of his learned quill the lofty flight<br /> -Must bear him soon to the empyrean height.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">There is a mind wherein experience shows</span><br /> -That knowledge findeth fitting dwelling-place,<br /> -Not only in ripe age amidst the snows,<br /> -But in green years, in early youthful days;<br /> -With no man shall I argue, or oppose<br /> -A truth so plain, the more because my praise,<br /> -If it perchance unto his ears be brought,<br /> -Thine honour hath, L<small>OPE DE</small> V<small>EGA</small>,<a id="FNanchor_154" href="#Footnote_154" class="fnanchor">[154]</a> sought.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Now holy Betis to my fancy's eye</span><br /> -Presents himself with peaceful olive crowned,<br /> -Making his plaint that I have passed him by,—<br /> -His angry words now in my ears resound—<br /> -He asks that in this narrative, where I<br /> -Speak of rare intellects, place should be found<br /> -For those that dwell upon his banks, and so<br /> -With voice sonorous I his will shall do.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">But what am I to do? For when I seek</span><br /> -To start, a thousand wonders I divine.<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_266"></a>[Pg 266]</span> -Many a Pindus' or Parnassus' peak,<br /> -And choirs of lovelier sisters than the nine,<br /> -Whereat my lofty spirits faint and weak<br /> -Become, and more when by some strange design<br /> -I hear a sound repeated as in echo,<br /> -Whene'er the name is namèd of P<small>ACHECO</small>.<a id="FNanchor_155" href="#Footnote_155" class="fnanchor">[155]</a></p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">P<small>ACHECO</small> 'tis whom Phoebus calls his friend,</span><br /> -On whom he and my sisters so discreet<br /> -Did from his feeble tender years attend<br /> -With new affection and new converse sweet;<br /> -I too his genius and his writings send<br /> -By strange paths never trod by mortal feet,<br /> -And ever have sent, till they rise on high<br /> -Unto the loftiest place of dignity.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Unto this pass I come, that, though I sing</span><br /> -With all my powers divine H<small>ERRERA'S</small><a id="FNanchor_156" href="#Footnote_156" class="fnanchor">[156]</a> praise,<br /> -My wearied toil but little fruit will bring,<br /> -Although to the fifth sphere my words him raise;<br /> -But, should friendship's suspicions to me cling,<br /> -Upon his works and his true glory gaze,<br /> -H<small>ERNANDO</small> doth by learning all enthral<br /> -From Ganges unto Nile, from pole to pole.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">F<small>ERNANDO</small> would I name to you again</span><br /> -<small>DE</small> C<small>ANGAS</small><a id="FNanchor_157" href="#Footnote_157" class="fnanchor">[157]</a> surnamed, whom the world admires.<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_267"></a>[Pg 267]</span> -Through whom the learning lives and doth sustain<br /> -Itself that to the hallowed bays aspires;<br /> -If there be any intellect that fain<br /> -Would lift its gaze to the celestial fires,<br /> -Let it but gaze on him, and it will find<br /> -The loftiest and the most ingenious mind.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Concerning C<small>RISTÓVAL</small>, who hath the name</span><br /> -Of <small>DE</small> V<small>ILLAROEL</small>,<a id="FNanchor_158" href="#Footnote_158" class="fnanchor">[158]</a> ye must believe<br /> -That he full well deserveth that his name<br /> -Ne'er should oblivion's gloomy waters cleave;<br /> -His wit let all admire, his worth acclaim<br /> -With awe, his wit and worth let all receive<br /> -As the most exquisite we can discover,<br /> -Where'er the sun doth shine, or earth doth cover.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The streams of eloquence which did of old</span><br /> -Flow from the breast of stately Cicero,<br /> -Which, gladdening the Athenian people bold,<br /> -Did honour on Demosthenes bestow,<br /> -The minds o'er whom Time hath already rolled—<br /> -Who bore themselves so proudly long ago—<br /> -Master F<small>RANCISCO DE</small> M<small>EDINA</small>,<a id="FNanchor_159" href="#Footnote_159" class="fnanchor">[159]</a> now<br /> -Let them before thy lofty learning bow.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Rightly thou canst, renownèd Betis, now</span><br /> -With Mincio, Arno, and with Tiber vie,<br /> -Uplift in happiness thy hallowed brow,<br /> -And spread thee in new bosoms spaciously:<br /> -Since Heaven wished, that doth thy bliss allow,<br /> -Such fame to give thee, honour, dignity,<br /> -As he doth bring unto thy banks so fair,<br /> -B<small>ALTASAR DEL</small> A<small>LCÁZAR</small>,<a id="FNanchor_160" href="#Footnote_160" class="fnanchor">[160]</a> who dwells there.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_268"></a>[Pg 268]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Another ye will see, summed up in whom</span><br /> -Apollo's rarest learning will ye see,<br /> -Which doth the semblance of itself assume,<br /> -When spread through countless others it may be;<br /> -In him 'tis greater, in him it doth come<br /> -To such a height of excellence that he,<br /> -The Licentiate M<small>OSQUERA</small><a id="FNanchor_161" href="#Footnote_161" class="fnanchor">[161]</a> well can claim<br /> -To rival e'en Apollo's self in fame.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Behold! yon prudent man who doth adorn</span><br /> -And deck with sciences his limpid breast,<br /> -Shrinks not from gazing on the fountain born<br /> -In wisdom's waters from our mountain's crest;<br /> -In the clear peerless stream he doth not scorn<br /> -To quench his thirst, and thus thou flourishest,<br /> -D<small>OMINGO DE</small> B<small>ECERRA</small>,<a id="FNanchor_162" href="#Footnote_162" class="fnanchor">[162]</a> here on earth,<br /> -For all recount the mighty doctor's worth.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Words I might speak of famous E<small>SPINEL</small><a id="FNanchor_163" href="#Footnote_163" class="fnanchor">[163]</a></span><br /> -That pass beyond the wit of human kind,<br /> -Concerning all the sciences that dwell,<br /> -Nurtured by Phoebus' breath, within his mind;<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_269"></a>[Pg 269]</span>But since my tongue the least part cannot tell<br /> -Of the great things that in my soul I find,<br /> -I say no more save that he doth aspire<br /> -To Heaven, whether he take his pen or lyre.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If ruddy Phoebus ye would fain espy</span><br /> -With blood-red Mars in equal balance weighed,<br /> -On great C<small>ARRANZA</small><a id="FNanchor_164" href="#Footnote_164" class="fnanchor">[164]</a> seek to cast an eye,<br /> -In whom each hath his constant dwelling made;<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_270"></a>[Pg 270]</span>With such discretion, art, dexterity,<br /> -Hath he his power o'er pen and lance displayed<br /> -That the dexterity once cleft apart<br /> -He hath brought back to science and to art.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of L<small>ÁZARO</small> L<small>UIS</small> I<small>RANZO</small>,<a id="FNanchor_165" href="#Footnote_165" class="fnanchor">[165]</a> lyre</span><br /> -Than mine must needs be tuned with better art,<br /> -To sing the good that Heaven doth inspire,<br /> -The worth that Heaven fosters in his heart:<br /> -By Mars' and Phoebus' path he doth inspire<br /> -To climb unto the lofty heights apart<br /> -Where human thought scarce reacheth, yet, despite<br /> -Fortune and fate, he will reach them aright.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">B<small>ALTASAR DE</small> E<small>SCOBAR</small>,<a id="FNanchor_166" href="#Footnote_166" class="fnanchor">[166]</a> who doth adorn</span><br /> -The famèd shores of Tiber's stream to-day,<br /> -Whom the broad banks of hallowed Betis mourn,<br /> -Their beauty lost when he is far away,<br /> -A fertile wit, if he perchance return<br /> -To his beloved native land, I pay<br /> -Unto his youthful and his honoured brow<br /> -The laurel and the honour that I owe.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">J<small>UAN</small> S<small>ANZ</small>, called <small>DE</small> Z<small>UMETA</small>,<a id="FNanchor_167" href="#Footnote_167" class="fnanchor">[167]</a> with what power,</span><br /> -What honour, palm, or laurel shall be crowned,<br /> -If from the Indian to the ruddy Moor<br /> -No muse as his so perfect can be found?<br /> -Here I anew his fame to him restore<br /> -By telling you, my shepherds, how profound<br /> -Will be Apollo's joy at any praise<br /> -Which ye may bring to swell Z<small>UMETA'S</small> praise.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Unto J<small>UAN DE LAS</small> C<small>UEVAS</small><a id="FNanchor_168" href="#Footnote_168" class="fnanchor">[168]</a> fitting place</span><br /> -Give, shepherds, whensoever in this spot<br /> -He shall present himself. His muse's grace<br /> -And his rare wit this prize for him have wrought;<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_271"></a>[Pg 271]</span>His works I know, though Time may flee apace,<br /> -In Time's despite, shall never be forgot,<br /> -From dread oblivion they shall free his name,<br /> -Which shall abide with bright and lofty fame.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If him ye ever see, with honour greet</span><br /> -The famous man, of whom I now shall tell,<br /> -And celebrate his praise in verses sweet,<br /> -As one who doth therein so much excel;<br /> -B<small>IBALDO</small> he—to make my tale complete,<br /> -A<small>DAM</small> B<small>IBALDO</small><a id="FNanchor_169" href="#Footnote_169" class="fnanchor">[169]</a>—who doth gild and swell<br /> -The glory of this happy age of ours<br /> -With the choice bloom of intellectual powers.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">E'en as is wont to be with varied flowers</span><br /> -Adorned and wealthy made the flowery May,<br /> -With many varied sciences and powers<br /> -D<small>ON</small> J<small>UAN</small> A<small>GUAYO'S</small><a id="FNanchor_170" href="#Footnote_170" class="fnanchor">[170]</a> intellect is gay;<br /> -Though I in praising him might pass the hours,<br /> -I say but this, that I now but essay,<br /> -And at another time I shall unfold<br /> -Things that your hearts with wonderment will hold.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">D<small>ON</small> J<small>UAN</small> G<small>UTIÉRREZ</small> R<small>UFO'S</small><a id="FNanchor_171" href="#Footnote_171" class="fnanchor">[171]</a> famous name</span><br /> -I wish in deathless memory to live,<br /> -That wise and foolish may alike acclaim<br /> -In wonderment his noble narrative;<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_272"></a>[Pg 272]</span>Let hallowed Betis give to him the fame<br /> -His style doth merit, let them glory give<br /> -To him, who know, may Heaven with renown<br /> -Equal unto his towering flight him crown.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">In D<small>ON</small> L<small>UIS DE</small> G<small>ÓNGORA</small><a id="FNanchor_172" href="#Footnote_172" class="fnanchor">[172]</a> I show</span><br /> -A rare and lively wit that hath no peer,<br /> -His works delight me, their wealth I bestow<br /> -Not on myself alone, but everywhere;<br /> -And if I merit aught, because ye know<br /> -My love for you, see that your praises bear<br /> -To endless life his lofty love profound<br /> -Despite the flight of time and death's cruel wound.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Let the green laurel, let the ivy green,</span><br /> -Nay, let the sturdy holm-oak crown the brow<br /> -Of G<small>ONZALO</small> C<small>ERVANTES</small>,<a id="FNanchor_173" href="#Footnote_173" class="fnanchor">[173]</a> for I ween<br /> -Worthy of being crowned therewith art thou;<br /> -More than Apollo's learning in thee seen,<br /> -In thee doth Mars the burning ardour show<br /> -Of his mad rage, yet with so just a measure<br /> -That through thee he inspireth dread and pleasure.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thou, who with thy sweet plectrum didst extol</span><br /> -Celidon's name and glory everywhere,<br /> -Whose wondrous and well-polished verses call<br /> -Thee unto laurels and to triumphs fair.<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_273"></a>[Pg 273]</span> -G<small>ONZALO</small> G<small>RACIÁN</small>,<a id="FNanchor_174" href="#Footnote_174" class="fnanchor">[174]</a> take the coronal,<br /> -Sceptre and throne from her who holds thee dear.<br /> -In token that the bard of Celidon<br /> -Deserveth to be Lord of Helicon.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thou, Darro, far renownèd stream of gold,</span><br /> -How well thou canst thyself exalt on high,<br /> -And with new current and new strength, behold,<br /> -Thou canst e'en with remote Hydaspes vie!<br /> -M<small>ATEO DE</small> B<small>ERRÍO</small><a id="FNanchor_175" href="#Footnote_175" class="fnanchor">[175]</a> maketh bold<br /> -To honour thee with every faculty<br /> -So that through him e'en now the voice of fame<br /> -Doth spread abroad through all the world thy name.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of laurel green a coronal entwine,</span><br /> -That ye therewith the worthy brows may crown<br /> -Of S<small>OTO</small> B<small>ARAHONA</small>,<a id="FNanchor_176" href="#Footnote_176" class="fnanchor">[176]</a> shepherds mine,<br /> -A man of wisdom, eloquence, renown;<br /> -Although the holy flood, the fount divine<br /> -Of Helicon, should B<small>ARAHONA</small> drown,<br /> -Mysterious chance! he yet would come to sight<br /> -As if he were upon Parnassus' height.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_274"></a>[Pg 274]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Within the realms antarctic I might say</span><br /> -That sovereign minds eternal fame attain,<br /> -For if these realms abound in wealth to-day,<br /> -Minds more than human also they contain;<br /> -In many now I can this truth display,<br /> -But I can give you plenteous store in twain,<br /> -One from New Spain, he an Apollo new,<br /> -The other, a sun unrivalled from Peru.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">F<small>RANCISCO DE</small> T<small>ERRAZAS</small><a id="FNanchor_177" href="#Footnote_177" class="fnanchor">[177]</a> is the name</span><br /> -Of one, renowned in Spain and in the West,<br /> -New Hippocrene his noble heart aflame<br /> -Hath given to his happy native nest;<br /> -Unto the other cometh equal fame,<br /> -Since by his heavenly genius he hath blest<br /> -Far Arequipa with eternal spring—<br /> -D<small>IEGO</small> M<small>ARTÍNEZ DE</small> R<small>IBERA</small><a id="FNanchor_178" href="#Footnote_178" class="fnanchor">[178]</a> I sing.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Beneath a happy star a radiance bright</span><br /> -Here did flash forth, so rich in signal worth<br /> -That his renown its tiniest spark of light<br /> -From East to West hath spread o'er all the earth;<br /> -And when this light was born, all valorous might<br /> -Was born therewith, P<small>ICADO</small><a id="FNanchor_179" href="#Footnote_179" class="fnanchor">[179]</a> had his birth,<br /> -Even my brother, Pallas' brother too,<br /> -Whose living semblance we in him did view.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If I must give the glory due to thee,</span><br /> -Great A<small>LONSO DE</small> E<small>STRADA</small>,<a id="FNanchor_180" href="#Footnote_180" class="fnanchor">[180]</a> thou to-day<br /> -Deservest that I should not hurriedly<br /> -Thy wisdom and thy wondrous mind display;<br /> -Thou dost enrich the land that ceaselessly<br /> -To Betis doth a bounteous tribute pay,<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_275"></a>[Pg 275]</span>Unequal the exchange, for no reward<br /> -Can payment for so fair a debt afford.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">D<small>ON</small> J<small>UAN</small>, Heaven gave thee as the rare delight</span><br /> -Of this fair country with no grudging hand,<br /> -Á<small>VALOS'</small> glory, and R<small>IBERA'S</small><a id="FNanchor_181" href="#Footnote_181" class="fnanchor">[181]</a> light,<br /> -Honour of Spain, of every foreign land,<br /> -Blest Spain, wherein with many a radiance bright<br /> -Thy works shall teach the world to understand<br /> -All that Nature can give us, rich and free,<br /> -Of genius bright and rare nobility.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">He who is happy in his native land,</span><br /> -In Limar's limpid waters revelling,<br /> -The cooling winds and the renownèd strand<br /> -With his divinest verses gladdening,—<br /> -Let him come, straightway ye will understand<br /> -From his spirit and discretion why I sing,<br /> -For S<small>ANCHO DE</small> R<small>IBERA</small><a id="FNanchor_182" href="#Footnote_182" class="fnanchor">[182]</a> everywhere<br /> -Is Phoebus' self and Mars without a peer.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">A Homer new this vale of high renown</span><br /> -Did once upon a time from Betis wrest,<br /> -On whom of wit and gallantry the crown<br /> -We can bestow—his greatness is confessed;<br /> -The Graces moulded him to be their own,<br /> -Heaven sendeth him in every grace the best,<br /> -Your Tagus' banks already know his fame,<br /> -P<small>EDRO DE</small> M<small>ONTESDOCA</small><a id="FNanchor_183" href="#Footnote_183" class="fnanchor">[183]</a> is his name.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wonder the illustrious D<small>IEGO DE</small> A<small>GUILAR</small><a id="FNanchor_184" href="#Footnote_184" class="fnanchor">[184]</a></span><br /> -In everything the wish can ask inspires,<br /> -A royal eagle he, who flieth far<br /> -Unto a height whereto no man aspires;<br /> -His pen 'mongst thousands wins the spoil of war,<br /> -For before it the loftiest retires,<br /> -Guanuco will his style, his valour tell<br /> -Of such renown; Guanuco knows it well.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">A G<small>ONZALO</small> F<small>ERNÁNDEZ</small><a id="FNanchor_185" href="#Footnote_185" class="fnanchor">[185]</a> draweth near,</span><br /> -A mighty captain in Apollo's host.<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_276"></a>[Pg 276]</span>In whose heroic name that hath no peer,<br /> -S<small>OTOMAYOR</small> to-day doth make his boast;<br /> -His verse is wondrous and his wisdom clear<br /> -Where'er he is beheld from coast to coast,<br /> -And if his pen doth so much joy afford,<br /> -He is no less renownèd by his sword.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">H<small>ENRIQUE</small> G<small>ARCÉS</small><a id="FNanchor_186" href="#Footnote_186" class="fnanchor">[186]</a> the Peruvian land</span><br /> -Enricheth. There with sweet melodious rhyme,<br /> -With cunning, skilful, and with ready hand,<br /> -In him the hardest task did highest climb;<br /> -New speech, new praise he to the Tuscan grand<br /> -Hath given in the sweet Spanish of our time;<br /> -Who shall the greatest praises from him take,<br /> -E'en though Petrarch himself again awake?</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">F<small>ERNÁNDEZ DE</small> P<small>INEDA'S</small><a id="FNanchor_187" href="#Footnote_187" class="fnanchor">[187]</a> talent rare</span><br /> -And excellent, and his immortal vein<br /> -Make him to be in no small part the heir<br /> -Of Hippocrene's waters without stain;<br /> -Since whatsoe'er he would therefrom, is ne'er<br /> -Denied him, since such glory he doth gain<br /> -In the far West, let him here claim the part<br /> -He now deserveth for his mind and art.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">And thou that hast thy native Betis made,</span><br /> -With envy filled, to murmur righteously,<br /> -That thy sweet tuneful song hath been displayed<br /> -Unto another earth, another sky,<br /> -Noble J<small>UAN DE</small> M<small>ESTANZA</small>,<a id="FNanchor_188" href="#Footnote_188" class="fnanchor">[188]</a> undismayed<br /> -Rejoice, for whilst the fourth Heaven shall supply<br /> -Its light, thy name, resplendent in its worth,<br /> -Shall be without a peer o'er all the earth.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">All that can e'er in a sweet vein be found</span><br /> -Of charm, ye will in one man only find,<br /> -Who bridleth to his muse's gladsome sound<br /> -The ocean's madness and the hurrying wind;<br /> -For B<small>ALTASAR DE</small> O<small>RENA</small><a id="FNanchor_189" href="#Footnote_189" class="fnanchor">[189]</a> is renowned,<br /> -From pole to pole his fame, swift as the wind,<br /> -Doth run, and from the East unto the West,<br /> -True honour he of our Parnassus' crest.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_277"></a>[Pg 277]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">A fruitful and a precious plant I know</span><br /> -That hath been to the highest mountain found<br /> -In Thessaly transplanted thence, and, lo!<br /> -A plant ere this with happy fruitage crowned;<br /> -Shall I be still nor tell what fame doth show<br /> -Of P<small>EDRO DE</small> A<small>LVARADO</small><a id="FNanchor_190" href="#Footnote_190" class="fnanchor">[190]</a> the renowned?<br /> -Renowned, yet no less brightly doth he shine,<br /> -For rare on earth is such a mind divine.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thou, who with thy new muse of wondrous grace</span><br /> -Art of the moods of love, C<small>AIRASCO</small>,<a id="FNanchor_191" href="#Footnote_191" class="fnanchor">[191]</a> singing,<br /> -And of that common varying fickleness,<br /> -Where cowards 'gainst the brave themselves are flinging;<br /> -If from the Grand Canary to this place<br /> -Thou art thy quick and noble ardour bringing,<br /> -A thousand laurels, for thou hast deserved,<br /> -My shepherds offer, praises well-deserved.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">What man, time-honoured Tormes, would deny</span><br /> -That thou canst e'en the Nile itself excel,<br /> -If V<small>EGA</small> in thy praises can outvie<br /> -E'en Tityrus who did of Mincio tell?<br /> -D<small>AMIÁN</small>,<a id="FNanchor_192" href="#Footnote_192" class="fnanchor">[192]</a> I know thy genius riseth high<br /> -To where this honour doth thine honours swell,<br /> -For my experience of many years<br /> -Thy knowledge and thy virtue choice declares.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Although thy genius and thy winning grace,</span><br /> -F<small>RANCISCO</small> S<small>ÁNCHEZ</small>,<a id="FNanchor_193" href="#Footnote_193" class="fnanchor">[193]</a> were to give me leave,<br /> -If I dared form the wish to hymn thy praise,<br /> -Censure should I for lack of skill receive;<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_278"></a>[Pg 278]</span>None but a master-tongue, whose dwelling place<br /> -Is in the heavens, can be the tongue to achieve<br /> -The lengthy course and of thy praises speak,<br /> -For human tongue is for this task too weak.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The things that an exalted spirit show,</span><br /> -The things that are so rare, so new in style,<br /> -Which fame, esteem, and knowledge bring to view<br /> -By hundred thousand proofs of wit and toil,<br /> -Cause me to give the praises that are due<br /> -To D<small>ON</small> F<small>RANCISCO DE LAS</small> C<small>UEVAS</small>,<a id="FNanchor_194" href="#Footnote_194" class="fnanchor">[194]</a> while<br /> -Fame that proclaims the tidings everywhere,<br /> -Seeks not to linger in her swift career.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">At such a time as this I would have crowned</span><br /> -My sweet song gladly, shepherds, with the praise<br /> -Of one whose genius doth the world astound,<br /> -And could your senses ravish and amaze;<br /> -In him the union and the sum is found<br /> -Of all I have praised and have yet to praise;<br /> -F<small>RAY</small> L<small>UIS DE</small> L<small>EÓN</small><a id="FNanchor_195" href="#Footnote_195" class="fnanchor">[195]</a> it is I sing,<br /> -Whom I love and adore, to whom I cling.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_279"></a>[Pg 279]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">What means, what ways of praise shall I achieve,</span><br /> -What pathways that yon great M<small>ATÍAS'</small> name<br /> -May in the world for countless ages live,<br /> -Who hath Z<small>UÑIGA</small><a id="FNanchor_196" href="#Footnote_196" class="fnanchor">[196]</a> for his other name?<br /> -Unto him all my praises let me give,<br /> -Though he is man and I immortal am,<br /> -Because his genius truly is divine,<br /> -Worthily praise and honour in him shine.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Turn ye the thought that passeth speedily</span><br /> -Unto Pisuerga's lovely banks divine,<br /> -Ye will see how the lofty minds whereby<br /> -They are adorned, enrich this tale of mine;<br /> -And not the banks alone, but e'en the sky,<br /> -Wherein the stars resplendent ever shine,<br /> -Itself assuredly can honour claim,<br /> -When it receives the men whom now I name.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thou, D<small>AMASIO DE</small> F<small>RÍAS</small>,<a id="FNanchor_197" href="#Footnote_197" class="fnanchor">[197]</a> canst alone</span><br /> -Thy praises utter, for, although our chief,<br /> -Even Apollo's self should praise thee, none<br /> -But could be in thy praises all too brief;<br /> -Thou art the pole-star that hath ever shone<br /> -Certain and sure, that sendeth sweet relief<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_280"></a>[Pg 280]</span>From storm, and favouring gales, and safe to shore<br /> -Brings him who saileth wisdom's ocean o'er.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">A<small>NDRÉS</small> S<small>ANZ DEL</small> P<small>ORTILLO</small>,<a id="FNanchor_198" href="#Footnote_198" class="fnanchor">[198]</a> send to me</span><br /> -That breath, I pray, whereby Phoebus doth move<br /> -Thy learned pen, and lofty fantasy,<br /> -That I may praise thee as it doth behove;<br /> -For my rough tongue will never able be,<br /> -Whate'er the ways it here may try and prove,<br /> -To find a way of praising as I would<br /> -All that I feel and see in thee of good.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Happiest of minds, thou towerest in thy flight</span><br /> -Above Apollo's highest, with thy ray<br /> -So bright, thou givest to our darkness light,<br /> -Thou guidest us, however far we stray;<br /> -And though thou dost now blind me with thy light<br /> -And hast my mind o'erwhelmèd with dismay,<br /> -Glory beyond the rest I give to thee,<br /> -For, S<small>ORIA</small>,<a id="FNanchor_199" href="#Footnote_199" class="fnanchor">[199]</a> glory thou hast given to me.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If, famous C<small>ANTORAL</small>,<a id="FNanchor_200" href="#Footnote_200" class="fnanchor">[200]</a> so rich a meed</span><br /> -Of praise thy works achieve in every part,<br /> -Thou of my praises wilt have little need,<br /> -Unless I praise thee with new mode and art;<br /> -With words significant of noble deed,<br /> -With all the skill that Heaven doth impart,<br /> -I marvel, praise in silence, thus I reach<br /> -A height I cannot hope to gain by speech.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If I to sing thy praise have long delayed,</span><br /> -Thou, V<small>ACA Y DE</small> Q<small>UIÑONES</small>,<a id="FNanchor_201" href="#Footnote_201" class="fnanchor">[201]</a> mayst forgive<br /> -The past forgetfulness I have displayed<br /> -And the repentance I now show receive,<br /> -For with loud cries and proclamation made<br /> -O'er the broad world this task I shall achieve<br /> -In open and in secret, that thy fame<br /> -Shall spread abroad, and brightly gleam thy name.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thy rich and verdant strand no juniper</span><br /> -Enricheth, nor sad cypress; but a crown<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_281"></a>[Pg 281]</span>Of laurels and of myrtles it doth wear,<br /> -Bright Ebro, rich in waters and renown,<br /> -As best I can, I now thy praise declare,<br /> -Praising that bliss which Heaven hath sent down<br /> -Unto thy banks, for geniuses more bright<br /> -Dwell on thy banks e'en than the stars of night.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Two brothers witnesses will be thereto,</span><br /> -Two daysprings they, twin suns of poesy,<br /> -On whom all that it could of art bestow<br /> -And genius, Heaven lavished bounteously;<br /> -Thoughts of wise age, though still in youthful glow,<br /> -Converse mature, and lovely fantasy,<br /> -Fashion a worthy, deathless aureola<br /> -For L<small>UPERCIO</small> L<small>EONARDO DE</small> A<small>RGENSOLA</small>.<a id="FNanchor_202" href="#Footnote_202" class="fnanchor">[202]</a></p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">With envy blest, in holy rivalry</span><br /> -Methinks the younger brother doth aspire<br /> -To match the elder, since he riseth high<br /> -To where no human eye e'er riseth higher;<br /> -Wherefore he writes and sings melodiously<br /> -Histories countless with so sweet a lyre<br /> -That young B<small>ARTOLOMÉ</small><a id="FNanchor_203" href="#Footnote_203" class="fnanchor">[203]</a> hath well deserved<br /> -Whatever for L<small>UPERCIO</small> is reserved.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_282"></a>[Pg 282]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If good beginning and a sequence fair</span><br /> -Inspire the hope of an illustrious close<br /> -In everything, my mind may now declare<br /> -That thus thou shalt exalt o'er all its foes,<br /> -C<small>OSME</small> P<small>ARIENTE</small>.<a id="FNanchor_204" href="#Footnote_204" class="fnanchor">[204]</a> Thus thou canst with rare<br /> -Confidence to thy wise and noble brows<br /> -Promise the crown that rightly hath been gained<br /> -By thy bright intellect and life unstained.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">M<small>URILLO</small>,<a id="FNanchor_205" href="#Footnote_205" class="fnanchor">[205]</a> thou dost dwell in solitude,</span><br /> -Heaven thy companion, and dost there display<br /> -That other muses, cleverer and more good,<br /> -Ne'er leave thy Christian side and go away;<br /> -Thou from my sisters didst receive thy food,<br /> -And now thou dost, this kindness to repay,<br /> -Guide us and teach us heavenly things to sing,<br /> -Pleasing to Heaven, and this world profiting.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Turia, who loudly didst of old proclaim</span><br /> -The excellence of the children born to thee,<br /> -If thou shouldst hearken to the words I frame,<br /> -Moved by no envy, by no rivalry.<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_283"></a>[Pg 283]</span> -Thou wilt hear how by those whom I shall name,<br /> -Thy fame is bettered; their presence with thee,<br /> -Their valour, virtue, genius, are thy dower,<br /> -And make thee o'er Indus and Ganges tower.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">D<small>ON</small> J<small>UAN</small> C<small>OLOMA</small>,<a id="FNanchor_206" href="#Footnote_206" class="fnanchor">[206]</a> thou within whose breast</span><br /> -Hath been enclosed so much of Heaven's grace,<br /> -Who hast with bridle stern envy repressed,<br /> -And given to fame a thousand tongues to blaze,<br /> -From Tagus to the kingdom fruitfulest,<br /> -Abroad thy name and worth in words of praise,<br /> -C<small>OUNT DE</small> E<small>LDA</small>, blest in all, thou dost bestow<br /> -On Turia greater fame than that of Po.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">He in whose breast a spring that is divine</span><br /> -Through him, doth ever copiously abound,<br /> -To whom his choir of flashing lights incline,<br /> -And rightly—they their Lord in him have found—<br /> -Who should by all, from Ethiop 'neath the Line<br /> -To Eskimo, with name unique be crowned,<br /> -D<small>ON</small> L<small>UIS</small> G<small>ARCERÁN</small><a id="FNanchor_207" href="#Footnote_207" class="fnanchor">[207]</a> is peerless, bright,<br /> -Grand Master of Montesa, world's delight.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Within this famous vale he should receive</span><br /> -A place illustrious, an abode renowned,<br /> -He to whom fame the name would gladly give<br /> -Wherewith his intellect is fitly crowned;<br /> -Be it the care of Heaven to achieve<br /> -His praise—from Heaven comes his worth profound—<br /> -And laud what is beyond my faculties<br /> -In D<small>ON</small> A<small>LONSO</small> R<small>EBOLLEDO</small><a id="FNanchor_208" href="#Footnote_208" class="fnanchor">[208]</a> wise.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">D<small>OCTOR</small> F<small>ALCÓN</small>,<a id="FNanchor_209" href="#Footnote_209" class="fnanchor">[209]</a> so lofty is thy flight</span><br /> -That thou beyond the lordly eagle high<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_284"></a>[Pg 284]</span>Dost rise; thy genius unto Heaven's height<br /> -Ascends, leaving this vale of misery;<br /> -Wherefore I fear, wherefore I dread aright<br /> -That, though I praise thee, thou wilt yet espy<br /> -Cause of complaint in that for nights and days<br /> -My voice and tongue I use not in thy praise.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If e'en as fortune doth, sweet poesy</span><br /> -Had but an ever-changing wheel possessed,<br /> -Swifter in speed than Dian through the sky,<br /> -Which was not, is not, ne'er shall be at rest,<br /> -Thereon let M<small>ICER</small> A<small>RTIEDA</small><a id="FNanchor_210" href="#Footnote_210" class="fnanchor">[210]</a> lie—<br /> -The wheel unchanged the while amid the test—<br /> -And he would ever keep the topmost place<br /> -For knowledge, intellect, and virtue's grace.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The goodly shower of praises thou didst pour</span><br /> -Upon the rarest intellects and best.<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_285"></a>[Pg 285]</span> -Alone thou meritest and dost secure,<br /> -Alone thou dost secure and meritest;<br /> -G<small>IL</small> P<small>OLO</small>,<a id="FNanchor_211" href="#Footnote_211" class="fnanchor">[211]</a> let thy hopes be firm and sure,<br /> -That in this vale thy ashes will find rest<br /> -In a new tomb by these my shepherds reared,<br /> -Wherein they will be guarded and revered.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">C<small>RISÓOBAL DE</small> V<small>IRUES</small>,<a id="FNanchor_212" href="#Footnote_212" class="fnanchor">[212]</a> since thou dost vaunt</span><br /> -A knowledge and a worth like to thy years,<br /> -Thyself the genius and the virtue chant<br /> -Wherewith thou fleest the world's beguiling fears;<br /> -A fruitful land and a well-nurtured plant—<br /> -In Spain and foreign lands I shall rehearse<br /> -And for the fruit of thy exalted mind<br /> -Win fame and honour and affection kind.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_286"></a>[Pg 286]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If like unto the mind he doth display</span><br /> -S<small>ILVESTRE DE</small> E<small>SPINOSA'S</small><a id="FNanchor_213" href="#Footnote_213" class="fnanchor">[213]</a> praise must be,<br /> -A voice more skilled were needed and more gay<br /> -A longer time and greater faculty;<br /> -But since my voice he guideth on the way,<br /> -This guerdon true shall I bestow, that he<br /> -May have the blessing Delos' god doth bring<br /> -To the choice flood of Hippocrene's spring.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The world adorning as he comes in view</span><br /> -Amongst them an Apollo I behold,<br /> -G<small>ARCIA</small> R<small>OMERO</small>,<a id="FNanchor_214" href="#Footnote_214" class="fnanchor">[214]</a> discreet, gallant too,<br /> -Worthiest of being in this list enrolled;<br /> -If dark Peneus' child, whose story true<br /> -Hath been in Ovid's chronicles retold,<br /> -Had found him in the plains of Thessaly,<br /> -Not laurel, but R<small>OMERO</small><a id="FNanchor_215" href="#Footnote_215" class="fnanchor">[215]</a> would she be.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">It breaks the silence and the hallowed bound,</span><br /> -Pierces the air, and riseth to the sky,<br /> -The heavenly, hallowed, and heroic sound<br /> -That speaks in F<small>RAY</small> P<small>EDRO DE</small> H<small>UETE'S</small><a id="FNanchor_216" href="#Footnote_216" class="fnanchor">[216]</a> cry;<br /> -Of his exalted intellect profound<br /> -Fame sang, sings and shall sing unceasingly,<br /> -Taking his works as witness of her song<br /> -To spread amazement all the world among.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Needs must I now to the last end draw near,</span><br /> -And of the greatest deed I e'er designed<br /> -Make a beginning now, which shall, I fear,<br /> -Move unto bitter wrath Apollo kind;<br /> -Since, although style be wanting, I prepare<br /> -To praise with rustic and untutored mind<br /> -Two suns that Spain, the country of their birth,<br /> -Illumine, and moreover all the earth.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Apollo's hallowed, honourable lore,</span><br /> -Discretion of a courtier mature,<br /> -And years well-spent, experience, which a store<br /> -Of countless prudent counsels doth assure,<br /> -Acuteness of intellect, a ready power<br /> -To mark and to resolve whate'er obscure<br /> -Difficulty and doubt before them comes,—<br /> -Each of these in these twin suns only blooms.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_287"></a>[Pg 287]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Now, shepherds, I in these two poets find</span><br /> -An epilogue to this my lengthy lay;<br /> -Though I for them the praises have designed<br /> -Which ye have heard, I do not them repay;<br /> -For unto them is debtor every mind,<br /> -From them I win contentment every day,<br /> -Contentment from them winneth all the earth<br /> -E'en wonder, for 'tis Heaven gives them birth.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">In them I wish to end my melody,</span><br /> -Yet I begin an admiration new,<br /> -And if ye think I go too far, when I<br /> -Say who they are, behold, I vanquish you;<br /> -By them I am exalted to the sky,<br /> -And without them shame ever is my due;<br /> -'Tis L<small>ÁINEZ</small>,<a id="FNanchor_217" href="#Footnote_217" class="fnanchor">[217]</a> F<small>IGUEROA</small><a id="FNanchor_218" href="#Footnote_218" class="fnanchor">[218]</a> 'tis I name<br /> -Worthy eternal and unceasing fame.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_288"></a>[Pg 288]</span></p> -<p>Scarce had the fair nymph ended the last accents of her -delightful song, when the flames which were divided, uniting -once more, enclosed her in the midst, and straightway, as they -were gradually consumed, the glowing fire in a little while -vanished, and the discreet muse from before the eyes of all, at -a time when already the bright dawn was beginning to reveal -her cool and rosy cheeks over the spacious sky, giving glad -tokens of the coming day. And straightway the venerable -Telesio, setting himself on Meliso's tomb, and surrounded by all -the pleasing company who were there, all lending him a -pleasing attention and strange silence, began to speak to them -in this wise:</p> - -<p>'What you have seen this past night in this very spot and -with your eyes, discreet and gallant shepherds, and fair shepherdesses, -will have given you to understand how acceptable to -Heaven is the laudable custom we have of performing these -yearly sacrifices and honourable funeral rites, for the happy -souls of the bodies which by your decree deserved to have -burial in this famous valley. I say this to you, my friends, in -order that henceforth with more fervour and diligence you may -assist in carrying out so holy and famous a work, since you -now see how rare and lofty are the spirits of which the -beauteous Calliope has told us, for all are worthy not only of -your, but of all possible praises. And think not that the -pleasure is small I have felt in learning from so true a narration -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_289"></a>[Pg 289]</span> -how great is the number of the men of divine genius who -live in our Spain to-day; for it always has been and is held by -all foreign nations that the spirits are not many, but few, that -in the science of poetry show that they are of lofty spirit, -the real fact being as different as we see, since each of those -the nymph has named excels the most subtle foreigner, and -they would give clear tokens of it, if poetry were valued as -highly in this Spain of ours as it is in other regions. And so -for this reason the renowned and clear intellects that excel in -it, because of the little esteem in which the princes and the -common people hold them, by their minds alone communicate -their lofty and strange conceptions, without daring to publish -them to the world, and I hold for my part that Heaven must -have ordained it in this way because the world does not -deserve, nor does our heedless age, to enjoy food so pleasant -to the soul. But, since it seems to me, shepherds, that the -little sleep of the past night and our long ceremonies will have -made you somewhat wearied and desirous of repose, it will be -well, after doing the little that remains to us to fulfil our -purpose, for each to return to his hut or to the village, carrying -in his memory what the muse has enjoined on us.'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_290"></a>[Pg 290]</span></p> - -<p>And, saying this, he descended from the tomb, and crowning -himself once more with new funereal branches, he went again -round the pyre three times, all following him and accompanying -him in some devout prayers he was uttering. This being done, -all having him in their midst, he turned his grave face to -each side, and, bowing his head, and showing a grateful -countenance and eyes full of love, he took leave of all the -company, who, going some by one and some by another side of -the four outlets that place had, in a little while all dispersed and -divided, only those of Aurelio's village remaining, and with -them Timbrio, Silerio, Nisida, and Blanca, with the famous -shepherds, Elicio, Thyrsis, Damon, Lauso, Erastro, Daranio, -Arsindo, and the four hapless ones, Orompo, Marsilio, Crisio, -and Orfenio, with the shepherdesses Galatea, Florisa, Silveria -and her friend Belisa, for whom Marsilio was dying. All -these then being together, the venerable Aurelio told them -that it would be well to depart at once from that place in order -to reach the stream of palms in time to spend the noon-tide -heat there, since it was so suitable a spot for it. What Aurelio -was saying seemed good to all, and straightway they went with -peaceful steps towards where he said. But as the fair appearance -of the shepherdess Belisa would not permit Marsilio's -spirits to rest, he would fain, if he had been able, and it had -been allowed him, have approached her and told her of the -injustice she used towards him; but, not to break through the -respect which was due to Belisa's modesty, the mournful swain -was more silent than his desire required. Love produced the -same effects and symptoms in the souls of the lovers Elicio -and Erastro, who each for himself would fain have told Galatea -what she well knew already. At this moment Aurelio -said:</p> - - -<p>'It does not seem to me well, shepherds, that you should show -yourselves so greedy as not to be willing to respond to and -repay what you owe to the larks and nightingales and to the -other painted little birds that amongst these trees are delighting -and gladdening you by their untaught wondrous harmony. -Play your instruments and uplift your sounding voices, and -show them that your art and skill in music excel their native -music, and with such a pastime we shall feel less the tedium of -the journey and the rays of the sun which already seem to be -threatening the violence with which they must needs strike the -earth during this noon-tide heat.'</p> - -<p>But little was necessary for Aurelio to be obeyed, for straightway -Erastro played his pipe and Arsindo his rebeck, to the -sound of which instruments, all giving the lead to Elicio, he -began to sing in this wise:</p> - -<div class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></div> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">For the impossible I fight,</span><br /> -And, should I wish to retreat,<br /> -Step nor pathway is in sight,<br /> -For, till victory or defeat,<br /> -Desire draweth me with might;<br /> -Though I know that I must die,<br /> -Ere the victory I achieve,<br /> -When I most in peril lie,<br /> -Then it is that I receive<br /> -<em>More faith in adversity</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Never may I hope to gain</span><br /> -Fortune; this is Heaven's decree.<br /> -Heaven the works of hope hath ta'en<br /> -And doth lavish aye on me<br /> -Countless certainties of pain;<br /> -But my breast of constancy,<br /> -Which amidst Love's living flame<br /> -Glows and melteth ceaselessly,<br /> -In exchange this boon doth claim:<br /> -<em>More faith in adversity</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Certain doubt and fickleness</span><br /> -Traitorous faith and surest fear,<br /> -Love's unbridled wilfulness,<br /> -Trouble ne'er the loving care<br /> -Which is crowned with steadfastness,<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_291"></a>[Pg 291]</span>Time on hasty wing may fly,<br /> -Absence come, or disdain cold,<br /> -Evil grow, tranquillity<br /> -Fail, yet I as bliss will hold<br /> -<em>More faith in adversity</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Certain folly is it not,</span><br /> -And a madness sure and great,<br /> -That I set my heart on what<br /> -Fortune doth deny, and Fate,<br /> -Nor is promised by my lot?<br /> -Dread of everything have I,<br /> -There is naught can give me pleasure,<br /> -Yet amidst such agony<br /> -Love bestows its chiefest treasure:<br /> -<em>More faith in adversity</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Victory o'er my grief I gain,</span><br /> -Which to such a pass is brought<br /> -That it doth Love's height attain,<br /> -And I find that from this thought<br /> -Comes some solace to my pain;<br /> -Although poor and lowly I,<br /> -Yet relief so rich in woe<br /> -To the fancy I apply,<br /> -That the heart may ever know<br /> -<em>More faith in adversity</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">All the more that every ill</span><br /> -Comes with every ill to-day,<br /> -And that they my life may fill<br /> -With more pain, though deadly they,<br /> -They do keep me living still;<br /> -But our life in dignity<br /> -With a noble end is crowned,<br /> -And in mine my fame shall lie,<br /> -For in life, in death I found<br/> -<em>More faith in adversity.</em></p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">It seemed to Marsilio that what Elicio had been singing -accorded with his mood so well that he wished to follow him in -the same idea, and so, without waiting for anyone else to take -the lead in it, to the sound of the same instruments, he began -to sing thus:</p> - -<p class="p01">M<small>ARSILIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw15"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ah! 'tis easy for the wind</span><br /> -All the hopes to bear away<br /> -That could ever be designed<br /> -And could their foundations lay<br /> -On vain fancies of the mind;<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_292"></a>[Pg 292]</span> -For all hopes of loving gain,<br /> -All the ways Time doth uncover,<br /> -Wholly are destroyed and slain;<br /> -But the while in the true lover<br /> -<em>Faith, faith only, doth remain</em>.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">It achieves such potency</span><br /> -That, despite disdain which never<br /> -Offereth security,<br /> -Bliss it promiseth me ever,<br /> -Bliss that keeps the hope in me;<br /> -And, though Love doth quickly wane<br /> -In the angry breast and white<br /> -That increaseth so my pain,<br /> -Yet in mine, in its despite,<br /> -<em>Faith, faith only, doth remain</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Love, 'tis true thou dost receive</span><br /> -Tribute for my loyalty,<br /> -And so much dost thou achieve<br /> -That my faith did never die,<br /> -It doth with my works revive;<br /> -My content—'tis to thee plain—<br /> -And my glory all decays,<br /> -As thy fury grows amain;<br /> -In my soul as dwelling-place<br /> -<em>Faith, faith only, doth remain</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">But if it be truth declared</span><br /> -And beyond all doubt have passed,<br /> -That to faith glory is barred,<br /> -I, who shall to faith hold fast,<br /> -What hope I for my reward?<br /> -Sense doth vanish with the pain<br /> -That is pictured, all the bliss<br /> -Flies and is not seen again,<br /> -And amidst such miseries<br /> -<em>Faith, faith only, doth remain</em>.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">With a profound sigh the hapless Marsilio ended his song, -and straightway Erastro, handing over his pipe, without further -delaying began to sing thus:</p> - -<p class="p01">E<small>RASTRO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">In my woe and suffering</span><br /> -'Midst the pleasures of my care,<br /> -My faith is so choice a thing,<br /> -That it flieth not from fear<br /> -Neither unto hope doth cling;<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_293"></a>[Pg 293]</span>'Tis not moved to agony,<br /> -In its task of climbing high,<br /> -To behold that joy hath fled,<br /> -Nor to see that life is sped<br /> -<em>Where faith lives and hope is dead</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">This is wondrous 'midst my woe,</span><br /> -Yet 'tis so that thus my bliss,<br /> -If it comes, may come to show<br /> -That amidst a thousand 'tis<br /> -That to which the palm should go;<br /> -Let not fame this truth deny<br /> -But unto the nations cry<br /> -With loud tongue that Love doth rest<br /> -Firm and loyal in my breast<br /> -<em>Where faith lives and hope is dead</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ah! thy rigorous disdain</span><br /> -And my merit, poor and low,<br /> -So affright me that 'tis plain,<br /> -Though I love thee, this I know,<br /> -Yet I dare not tell my pain;<br /> -Ever open I espy<br /> -The gate to my agony,<br /> -And that life doth slow depart,<br /> -For thou heedest not the heart<br /> -<em>Where faith lives and hope is dead</em>.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Never doth my fancy frame</span><br /> -Such a frenzied, foolish, thought<br /> -As to think that I could claim<br /> -Any bliss that I have sought<br /> -By my faith and heart aflame;<br /> -Thou canst know with certainty<br /> -My surrendered soul doth try,<br /> -Shepherdess, to love thee true,<br /> -For 'tis there that thou wilt view<br /> -<em>Where faith lives and hope is dead</em>.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Erastro became silent, and straightway the absent Crisio, to -the sound of the same instruments, began to sing in this fashion:</p> - -<p class="p01">C<small>RISIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw15"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If the loyal heart despair</span><br /> -Of achieving happiness,<br /> -Whoso faints in the career<br /> -Of the loving passion's stress,<br /> -What shall he as guerdon bear?<br /> -I know not that any may<br /> -Win delight and pleasure gay<br /> -In the sudden rush of Love,<br /> -If the greatest joys but prove<br /> -<em>'Tis no faith that doth not stay</em>.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_294"></a>[Pg 294]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">This undoubted truth we know</span><br /> -That in battle and in love<br /> -He that proud and bold is, though<br /> -Conqueror he at first may prove,<br /> -Sinks at last beneath the blow;<br /> -And the wise man knows to-day<br /> -That the victory ever lay<br /> -'Midst the strife in constancy,<br /> -And he knows, whate'er it be<br /> -<em>'Tis no faith that doth not stay</em>.</p> -<br /> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Whoso seeks in love to gain</span><br /> -Nothing save his happiness,<br /> -In his fickle thought and vain,<br /> -Faith that shall withstand all stress<br /> -Cannot for one hour remain;<br /> -I myself these words would say,<br /> -If my faith should not display<br /> -Constancy amidst the storm<br /> -Of ill, as when hope is warm:<br /> -<em>'Tis no faith that doth not stay</em>.</p> -<br /> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Madness of a lover new,</span><br /> -His impetuous hastening,<br /> -Sighs and sadness, these, 'tis true,<br /> -Are but fleeting clouds of spring,<br /> -In a moment lost to view:<br /> -'Tis not love he doth display,<br /> -Greed and folly lead astray,<br /> -For he loves, yet loveth not,<br /> -No man loves who dieth not,<br /> -<em>'Tis no faith that doth not stay</em>.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">All approved of the order the shepherds were keeping in their -songs, and with desire they were waiting for Thyrsis or Damon -to begin; but at once Damon satisfied them, for, as Crisio -finished, to the sound of his own rebeck, he sang thus:</p> - - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw15"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thankless Amaryllis fair,</span><br /> -Who shall make thee tender prove,<br /> -If the faith of my true love<br /> -And the anguish of my care<br /> -Do thee but to hardness move?<br /> -Maiden, 'tis to thee well known<br /> -That the love which is in me<br /> -Leads to this extremity:<br /> -Save my faith in God alone<br /> -<em>Naught is faith but faith in thee</em>.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_295"></a>[Pg 295]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">But although I go so high</span><br /> -In love for a mortal thing,<br /> -Such bliss to my woe doth cling<br /> -That the soul I raise thereby<br /> -To the land whence it doth spring;<br /> -Thus this truth I know full well<br /> -That my love remains in me<br /> -In life, in death, ceaselessly,<br /> -And, if faith in love doth dwell,<br /> -<em>Naught is faith but faith in thee</em>.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">All the years that I have passed</span><br /> -In my services of love,<br /> -My soul's sacrifices prove<br /> -All the cares that hold me fast<br /> -And the faith that doth me move;<br /> -Wherefore for the ill I bear<br /> -I will ask no remedy,<br /> -Should I ask it willingly,<br /> -'Tis because, my lady fair,<br /> -<em>Naught is faith but faith in thee</em>.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">In my soul's tempestuous ocean</span><br /> -Peace and calm I ne'er have found,<br /> -And my faith is never crowned<br /> -With that hope and glad emotion<br /> -Whereon faith itself doth ground;<br /> -Love and fortune I deplore<br /> -Yet revenge is not for me,<br /> -For they bring felicity<br /> -In that, though I hope no more,<br /> -<em>Naught is faith but faith in thee</em>.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Damon's song fully confirmed in Timbrio and in Silerio the -good opinion they had formed of the rare wit of the shepherds -who were there; and the more when, at the persuasion of -Thyrsis and of Elicio, the now free and disdainful Lauso, to the -sound of Arsindo's flute, released his voice in verses such as -these:</p> - - - -<p class="p01">L<small>AUSO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fickle Love, disdain thy chains</span><br /> -Broke, and to my memory<br /> -Hath restored the liberty<br /> -Born from absence of thy pains;<br /> -Let him, whoso would, accuse<br /> -My faith as capricious, weak,<br /> -And as best he thinketh, seek<br /> -To convert me to his views.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_296"></a>[Pg 296]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">I my love did soon forsake,</span><br /> -He may say, my faith was hung<br /> -By a hair so finely strung<br /> -That it e'en a breath could break;<br /> -All the plaints Love did provoke,<br /> -All my sighs, did feignèd prove,<br /> -Nay the very shafts of Love<br /> -Did not pierce beneath my cloke.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">For no torture 'tis for me</span><br /> -To be callèd fickle, vain,<br /> -If I may behold again<br /> -My neck from the mad yoke free;<br /> -Who Silena is, I know,<br /> -And how strange her mood hath been,<br /> -How her peaceful face serene<br /> -Promise and deceit doth show.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">To her wondrous dignity,</span><br /> -To her fair and downcast eyes,<br /> -'Tis not much to yield the prize<br /> -Of the will, whose'er it be,<br /> -For at first sight we adore;<br /> -Now we know her, fain would we<br /> -Life and more, if more could be,<br /> -Give to see her nevermore.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Ofttimes to her have I given</span><br /> -Heaven's Silena and my dear<br /> -For her name—she was so fair<br /> -That she seemed the child of Heaven;<br /> -Better now her name shall be—<br /> -Now that I need fear no more—<br /> -Not Silena, Heaven's flower,<br /> -But false Siren of the sea.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Earnest words, frivolities,</span><br /> -Gazing eyes and ardent pen<br /> -Of the lover, blind and vain,—<br /> -Take a countless sum of these,<br /> -And the last is ever first;<br /> -Whoso hath in love surpassed,<br /> -As the first loved, e'en at last<br /> -Is by her disdain accursed.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">How much fairer would we deem</span><br /> -Our Silena's beauteous grace,<br /> -If her wisdom and her ways<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_297"></a>[Pg 297]</span>Did her fairness but beseem!<br /> -She discretion hath at will,<br /> -But a halter 'tis to slay<br /> -The presumption of her way,<br /> -For she useth it so ill.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">I speak not with shameless tongue,</span><br /> -For it were but passion wild,<br /> -But I speak as one beguiled,<br /> -Who hath suffered grievous wrong;<br /> -Passion doth no more me blind,<br /> -Nor desire that she should wrong<br /> -Suffer, for always my tongue<br /> -Was in reason's bonds confined.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Her caprices manifold,</span><br /> -And her moods that ever change,<br /> -From her every hour estrange<br /> -Those who were her friends of old;<br /> -Since Silena foes hath made<br /> -In the many ways we see,<br /> -Wholly good she cannot be,<br /> -Or they must be wholly bad.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">Lauso ended his song, and though he thought that no one -understood him, through ignorance of Silena's disguised name, -more than three of those who were there knew her, and even -marvelled that Lauso's modest behaviour should have gone so -far as to attack anyone, especially the disguised shepherdess -with whom they had seen him so much in love. But in the -opinion of his friend Damon he was fully excused, for he was -acquainted with Silena's conduct, and knew how she had conducted -herself towards Lauso, and wondered at what he left -unsaid. Lauso finished, as has been said; and as Galatea had -heard of the charm of Nisida's voice, she wished to sing first, -so as to constrain her to do the same. And for this reason, before -any other shepherd could begin, beckoning to Arsindo to continue -sounding his flute, to its sound with her exquisite voice -she sang in this wise:</p> - - -<p class="p01">G<small>ALATEA.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;"> E'en as Love ever seeks the soul to entame,</span><br /> -Tempting it by the semblance of delight,<br /> -E'en so she from Love's deadly pangs in flight<br /> -Turneth, who knows its name bestowed by fame.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">The breast that doth oppose his amorous flame,</span><br /> -The breast with honourable resistance armed,<br /> -By Love's unkindness is but little harmed,<br /> -Little his fire and rigour doth inflame.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Secure is she who never was beloved,</span><br /> -Nor could love, from that tongue which in dispraise<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_298"></a>[Pg 298]</span> -Of her honour, with subtle glow doth gleam.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">But if to love and not to love have proved</span><br /> -Fruitful in harm, how shall she spend her days<br /> -Who honour dearer e'en than life doth deem?</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">It could easily be seen in Galatea's song that she was -replying to Lauso's malicious one, and that she was not against -unfettered wills, but against the malicious tongues and wronged -souls which, in not gaining what they desire, change the love -they once showed to a malicious and detestable hatred, as she -fancied in Lauso's case; but perhaps she would have escaped -from this error, if she had known Lauso's good disposition, and -had not been ignorant of Silena's evil one. As soon as Galatea -ceased to sing, she begged Nisida with courteous words to do -the same. She, as she was as courteous as beautiful, without -letting herself be pressed, to the sound of Florisa's pipe sang in -this fashion:</p> - -<p class="p01">N<small>ISIDA</small>.</p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Bravely I took my courage as defence</span><br /> -In the dread conflict and onslaught of Love,<br /> -My boldness bravely raised to Heaven above<br /> -Against the rigour of the clear offence.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">But yet so overwhelming and intense</span><br /> -The battery, and withal so weak my power<br /> -That, though Love seized me not, in one short hour<br /> -Love brought me to confess his power immense.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">O'er worth, o'er honour, o'er a mind discreet,</span><br /> -Shy modesty, a bosom of disdain,<br /> -Love doth with ease achieve the victory;</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wherefore, in order to escape defeat,</span><br /> -Strength from no words of wisdom can we gain,<br /> -Unto this truth an eye-witness am I.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">When Nisida ceased to sing and to fill with admiration -Galatea and those who had been listening to her, they were -already quite near the spot where they had determined to pass -the noon-tide hour. But in that short time Belisa had time to -fulfil Silveria's request, which was that she should sing something; -and she, accompanied by the sound of Arsindo's flute, -sang what follows:</p> - -<p class="p01">B<small>ELISA.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw15"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fancy, that is fancy-free,</span><br /> -Listen to the reason why<br /> -Our fame groweth steadily,<br /> -Pass the vain affection by,<br /> -Mother of all injury;<br /> -For whene'er the soul doth load<br /> -Itself with some loving load,<br /> -Bane that takes the life away,<br /> -Mixed with juice of bitter bay,<br /> -Is to it but pleasing food.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_299"></a>[Pg 299]</span></p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">But our precious liberty</span><br /> -Should not bartered be nor sold<br /> -For the greatest quantity<br /> -Of the best refinèd gold,<br /> -Best in worth and quality;<br /> -Shall we bring ourselves to bear<br /> -Such a loss and heed the prayer<br /> -Of a lover whom we scorn,<br /> -If all blessings ever born<br /> -Do not with such bliss compare?</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If the grief we cannot bear</span><br /> -When the body, free from love,<br /> -Is confined in prison drear,<br /> -Shall the pain not greater prove,<br /> -When the very soul is there?<br /> -Pain 'twill be of such a kind<br /> -That no remedy we find<br /> -For such ill in patience, time,<br /> -Worth, or learning in its prime,<br /> -Naught save death alone is kind.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Wherefore let my healthy mood</span><br /> -From this madness flee away,<br /> -Leave behind so false a good,<br /> -Let my free will ever sway<br /> -Every fancy as it would;<br /> -Let my tender neck and free<br /> -Never yield itself to be<br /> -Placed beneath the loving yoke,<br /> -Whereby peace is, at a stroke,<br /> -Slain, and banished liberty.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">The shepherdess's verses of freedom reached the soul of the -hapless Marsilio, by reason of the little hope her words held -out that her deeds would grow better; but as the faith with -which he loved her was so firm, the noteworthy proofs of -freedom he had heard uttered, could not but keep him as much -without it as he had been before. At this point the road leading -to the stream of palms ended, and though they had not had the -intention of spending the noon-tide heat there, when they -reached it and saw the comfort of the beautiful spot, it would -have of itself compelled them not to go further. When they -had come to it then, straightway the venerable Aurelio commanded -all to seat themselves beside the clear and glassy -stream, which was flowing in amongst the short grass, and had -its birth at the foot of a very tall and ancient palm (for there -being on all the banks of the Tagus only that one, and another -which was beside it, that place and stream was called "of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_300"></a>[Pg 300]</span> -palms"), and after sitting down, they were served by Aurelio's -shepherds with more good-will and simplicity than costly -victuals, satisfying their thirst with the clear cool waters that the -pure stream offered them. And on ending the short and pleasant -repast, some of the shepherds separated and departed to seek -some shady place apart, where they might make up for the -unslept hours of the past night; and there remained alone only -those of Aurelio's company and village with Timbrio, Silerio, -Nisida and Blanca, Thyrsis and Damon, to whom it appeared -to be better to enjoy the fair converse that was expected there, -than any other enjoyment that sleep could offer them. Aurelio -then, guessing and almost knowing this their purpose, said to -them:</p> - -<p>'It will be well, sirs, that we, who are here, since we have not -wished to yield ourselves to sweet sleep, should not fail to -make use of this time we steal from it in something that may -be more to our pleasure, and what, it seems to me, will not fail -to give it us, is that each, as best he can, should here show the -sharpness of his wits, propounding some question, or riddle, to -whom the companion who may be at his side may be forced to -reply; since with this pastime two things will be gained—one -to spend with less tedium the hours we shall be here, the other, -not to weary our ears so much with always hearing lamentations -of love, and love-sick dirges.'</p> - -<p>All straightway fell in with Aurelio's wish, and without any -of them leaving the place where they were, the first who began -to question was Aurelio himself, speaking in this wise:</p> - -<p class="p01">A<small>URELIO.</small></p> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who is he, that mighty one,</span><br /> -That from East to farthest West<br /> -Winneth fame and high renown?<br /> -Sometimes strong and self-possessed,<br /> -Sometimes weak with courage gone;<br /> -Health he gives and takes away,<br /> -Strength on many every day<br /> -He bestows or doth withhold,<br /> -Stronger he when he is old<br /> -Than when youth is bright and gay.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Changing where he changeth not</span><br /> -By a strange preëminence,<br /> -Strong men tremble, by him caught,<br /> -He hath rarest eloquence<br /> -Unto sullen dumbness brought;<br /> -He his being and his name<br /> -Measureth in different ways,<br /> -From a thousand lands of praise<br /> -He is wont to take his fame.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_301"></a>[Pg 301]</span></p> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">He unarmed hath conquerèd</span><br /> -Armèd men, as needs he must,<br /> -Who hath dealt with him is sped,<br /> -Who would bring him to the dust,<br /> -To the dust is brought instead;<br /> -'Tis a thing that doth astound<br /> -That a champion should be found,<br /> -In the field and in the town,<br /> -'Gainst a chief of such renown,<br /> -Though he soon shall bite the ground.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">The answering of this question fell to the old shepherd -Arsindo, who was beside Aurelio; and having for a little while -considered what it could denote, at last he said to him:</p> - -<p>'It seems to me, Aurelio, that our age compels us to be more -enamoured of that which your question denotes than of the -most graceful shepherdess that might present herself to us, for, -if I am not mistaken, the mighty and renowned one you mention -is wine, and all the attributes you have given him tally -with it.'</p> - -<p>'You speak truth, Arsindo,' replied Aurelio, 'and I am -inclined to say that I am sorry to have propounded a question -which has been solved with much ease; but do you tell yours, -for at your side you have one who will be able to unravel it for -you, however knotty it may be.'</p> - -<p>'I agree,' said Arsindo; and straightway he propounded the -following:</p> - -<p class="p01">A<small>RSINDO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw15"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who is he that loseth hue</span><br /> -Where he most is wont to thrive,<br /> -In a moment doth revive<br /> -And his colour takes anew?<br /> -In the birth hour he is grey,<br /> -Afterwards black as a crow,<br /> -Last, so ruddy is his glow<br /> -That it maketh all men gay.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Laws nor charters doth he keep,</span><br /> -To the flames a faithful friend,<br /> -Oftentimes he doth attend<br /> -E'en where lords and princes sleep;<br /> -Dead he manhood doth assume,<br /> -Living takes a woman's name,<br /> -He at heart is lurid flame<br /> -But in semblance deepest gloom.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">It was Damon who was at Arsindo's side, and scarcely had -the latter finished his question, when he said to him:</p> - -<p>'It seems to me, Arsindo, that your query is not so dark as -the thing it denotes, for if I am not wrong in it, it is charcoal of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_302"></a>[Pg 302]</span> -which you say that when dead it is called masculine, and when -glowing and alive <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">brasa</i>,<a id="FNanchor_219" href="#Footnote_219" class="fnanchor">[219]</a> which is a feminine noun, and all -the other parts suit it in every respect, as this does; and if -you are in the same plight as Aurelio, by reason of the ease with -which your question has been understood, I am going to keep -you company in it, since Thyrsis, to whom it falls to answer -me, will make us equal.'</p> - -<p>And straightway he spoke his:</p> - -<p class="p01">D<small>AMON.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who is she of courtly grace,</span><br /> -Well-adorned, a dainty dame,<br /> -Timorous, yet bold of face,<br /> -Modest she, yet lacking shame,<br /> -Pleasant, yet she doth displease?<br /> -When in numbers, to astound,<br /> -Masculine their name doth sound,<br /> -And it is a certain thing<br /> -That amongst them is the king,<br /> -And with all men they are found.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">'Verily, friend Damon,' said Thyrsis forthwith, 'your challenge -comes true, and you pay the forfeit that Aurelio and Arsindo -pay, if any there be; for I tell you I know that what your -riddle conceals is a letter,<a id="FNanchor_220" href="#Footnote_220" class="fnanchor">[220]</a> and a pack of cards.'</p> - -<p>Damon admitted that Thyrsis was right. And straightway -Thyrsis propounded his riddle thus:</p> - -<p class="p01">T<small>HYRSIS.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw15"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who is she that is all eyes,</span><br /> -All eyes she from head to foot,<br /> -And, although she seeks it not,<br /> -Sometimes causeth lovers' sighs?<br /> -Quarrels too she doth appease,<br /> -Though indeed she knows not why,<br /> -And although she is all eye,<br /> -Very few the things she sees.<br /> -She doth call herself a grief<br /> -Counted mortal, good and dire<br /> -Evil worketh, and doth fire<br /> -Love, and to love brings relief.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">Thyrsis's riddle puzzled Elicio, for it was his turn to answer it, -and he was on the point of 'giving up,' as the saying is; but in -a little while he managed to say that it was jealousy, and, -Thyrsis admitting it, Elicio straightway propounded the following:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_303"></a>[Pg 303]</span></p> - - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw15"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;"> 'Tis obscure, and yet 'tis clear,</span><br /> -Thousand opposites containing,<br /> -Truth to us at last explaining,<br /> -Which it hides from far and near;<br /> -Born at times from beauty rare<br /> -Or from lofty fantasies,<br /> -Unto strife it giveth rise,<br /> -Though it deals with things of air.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Unto all its name is known,</span><br /> -From the children to the old,<br /> -'Tis in numbers manifold,<br /> -Divers are the lords they own;<br /> -Every beldame doth possess<br /> -One of them to make her gay,<br /> -Things of pleasure for a day,<br /> -Full of joy or weariness.</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">And to rob them of their sense</span><br /> -Men of wisdom keep awake,<br /> -Whatsoe'er the pains they take,<br /> -Some are doomed to impotence;<br /> -Sometimes foolish, sometimes witty;<br /> -Easy, or with tangles fraught,<br /> -Whether naught it be or not,<br /> -Say, what is this thing so pretty?</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Timbrio could not hit upon the thing which Elicio's question -denoted, and he almost began to be ashamed at seeing that he -delayed longer in answering than any one else, but not even -this consideration made him come to a better perception of it; -and he delayed so long that Galatea, who was after Nisida, -said:</p> - -<p>'If it is allowed to break the order which is given, and the -one who should first know may reply, I say for my part that I -know what the riddle propounded denotes, and I am ready to -solve it, if señor Timbrio gives me leave.'</p> - -<p>'Certainly, fair Galatea,' replied Timbrio, 'for I know that -just as I lack, so you have a superabundance of, wit, to solve -greater difficulties; but nevertheless I wish you to be patient -until Elicio repeats it, and if this time I do not hit it, the opinion -I have of my wit and yours, will be confirmed with more truth.'</p> - -<p>Elicio repeated his question, and straightway Timbrio solved -its meaning, saying:</p> - -<p>'With the very thing by which I thought your query was -obscured, Elicio, it appears to me to be solved, for the last line -says, that they are to say what is this thing so pretty. And -so I answer you in what you ask me, and say that your question<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_304"></a>[Pg 304]</span> -means that which we mean by a pretty thing;<a id="FNanchor_221" href="#Footnote_221" class="fnanchor">[221]</a> and do not be -surprised that I have been long in answering, for, if I had -answered sooner, I would have been more surprised at my wit; -which will show what it is in the small skill of my question, -which is this:</p> - -<p class="p01">T<small>IMBRIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who is he who to his pain</span><br /> -Placeth his feet in the eyes,<br /> -And although no hurt arise,<br /> -Makes them sing with might and main?<br /> -And to pull them out is pleasure,<br /> -Though at times, who doeth so,<br /> -Doth by no means ease his woe,<br /> -But achieveth more displeasure.'</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">It fell to Nisida to reply to Timbrio's question, but neither -she nor Galatea who followed her were able to guess it. And -Orompo, seeing that the shepherdesses were wearying themselves -in thinking what it denoted, said to them:</p> - -<p>'Do not tire yourselves, ladies, nor weary your minds in -solving this riddle, for it might well be that neither of you in -all her life has seen the figure that the question conceals, and -so it is no wonder that you should not hit upon it; for if it -had been of a different kind, we were quite sure, as regards -your minds, that in a shorter time you would have solved others -more difficult. And therefore, with your leave, I am going to -reply to Timbrio, and tell him that his query denotes a man in -fetters, since when he draws his feet from those eyes he speaks -of, it is either to set him free or to take him to execution; so -that you may see, shepherdesses, if I was right in thinking that -perhaps neither of you had seen in all her life jails or prisons.'</p> - -<p>'I for my part can say,' said Galatea, 'that never have I seen -any one imprisoned.'</p> - -<p>Nisida and Blanca said the same. And straightway Nisida -propounded her question in this form:</p> - -<p class="p01">N<small>ISIDA.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Fire it biteth, and its bite</span><br /> -To its victim harm and good<br /> -Bringeth; but it doth no blood<br /> -Lose, although the blade doth smite;<br /> -But if deep should be the wound,<br /> -From a hand that is not sure,<br /> -Death comes to the victim poor,<br /> -In such death its life is found.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">Galatea delayed little in answering Nisida, for straightway -she said to her:</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_305"></a>[Pg 305]</span></p> -<p>'I am quite sure that I am not mistaken, fair Nisida, if I say -that your riddle can in no way be better applied than to candle-snuffers -and to the taper or candle they snuff; and if this is -true, as it is, and you are satisfied with my reply, listen now to -mine, which I hope will be solved by your sister with no less -ease than I have done yours.'</p> - -<p>And straightway she spoke it, and it ran thus:</p> - -<div class="p01">G<small>ALATEA.</small></div> - -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;"> Children three, who love inspire,</span><br /> -And the children of one mother,<br /> -One was grandson of his brother,<br /> -And another was his sire;<br /> -These three children did distress<br /> -And o'erwhelm her with such woes,<br /> -That they gave her countless blows,<br /> -Showing thus their skilfulness.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Blanca was considering what Galatea's riddle could denote, -when they saw two gallant shepherds crossing at a run near the -place where they were, showing by the fury with which they -were running that something important constrained them to -move their steps with such speed, and straightway at the same -moment they heard some mournful cries, as of persons seeking -help; and on this alarm all arose and followed the direction whence -the cries sounded; and in a few steps they issued from that -delightful spot and came out on the bank of the cool Tagus, -which, close at hand, was flowing gently by. And scarcely did -they see the river, when the strangest thing they could imagine -was presented to their gaze; for they saw two shepherdesses -seemingly of noble grace, who were holding a shepherd fast by -the lappets of his coat with all the strength in their power, in -order that the poor fellow might not drown himself, for he -already had half his body in the river, and his head below the -water, struggling with his feet to release himself from the -shepherdesses, who were hindering his desperate purpose. -They were already almost on the point of letting him go, being -unable to overcome his obstinate determination with their feeble -strength. But at this point the two shepherds approached, who -had been coming at a run, and seizing the desperate man, -drew him out of the water just as all the others were already -approaching, astounded at the strange sight, and they were -more so, when they learned that the shepherd who wished to -drown himself was Artidoro's brother, Galercio, while the -shepherdesses were his sister Maurisa and the fair Teolinda; -and when these saw Galatea and Florisa, Teolinda ran with -tears in her eyes to embrace Galatea, saying:</p> - -<p>'Ah, Galatea, sweet friend and lady mine, how has this luckless -wretch fulfilled the word she gave you to return to see you -and tell you the news of her happiness!'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_306"></a>[Pg 306]</span></p> - -<p>'I shall be as glad for you to have it, Teolinda,' replied -Galatea, 'as you are assured by the good-will you know I -have to serve you; but it seems to me that your eyes do not -bear out your words, nor indeed do these satisfy me so as to -make me imagine a successful issue to your desires.'</p> - -<p>Whilst Galatea was thus occupied with Teolinda, Elicio and -Artidoro with the other shepherds had stripped Galercio, and as -they loosened his coat, which with all his clothes had been -wetted, a paper fell from his bosom, which Thyrsis picked up, -and, opening it, saw that it was verse; and not being able to -read it because it was wet, he placed it on a lofty branch in the -sun's ray so that it might dry. On Galercio they placed a cloak -of Arsindo's, and the luckless youth was as it were astounded -and amazed, without saying a word, though Elicio asked him -what was the cause that had brought him to so strange a pass. -But his sister Maurisa answered for him, saying:</p> - -<p>'Raise your eyes, shepherds, and you will see who is the -cause that has set my unfortunate wretch of a brother in so -strange and desperate a plight.'</p> - -<p>The shepherds raised their eyes at what Maurisa said, and -saw a graceful and comely shepherdess on a beetling rock that -overhung the river, seated on the same crag, and watching with -smiling countenance all that the shepherds were doing. She -was straightway recognised by all as the cruel Gelasia.</p> - -<p>'That loveless, that thankless girl, sirs,' went on Maurisa, 'is -the mortal enemy of this my unhappy brother, who, as all these -banks already know and you are not unaware, loves her, worships -her and adores her; and in return for the ceaseless services he -has always done her, and for the tears that he has shed for her, -she this morning, with the most scornful and loveless disdain -that could ever be found in cruelty, bade him go from her -presence, and never return to her now or henceforth. And my -brother wished to obey her so earnestly, that he sought to take -away his life, to avoid the occasion of ever transgressing her -bidding; and if these shepherds had not by chance come so -quickly, the end of my happiness, and the end of my hapless -brother's days would by now have come.'</p> - -<p>What Maurisa said set all those who listened to her in amazement, -and they were more amazed when they saw that the cruel -Gelasia, without moving from the spot where she was, and -without taking account of all that company who had their eyes -set on her, with a strange grace and spirited disdain, drew a -small rebeck from her wallet, and stopping to tune it very -leisurely, after a little while with a voice of great beauty began -to sing in this wise:</p> - -<p class="p01">G<small>ELASIA.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">The pleasing herbs of the green shady mead,</span><br /> -The cooling fountains, who will e'er forsake,<br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_307"></a>[Pg 307]</span> -And strive no more the fleet hare to o'ertake<br /> -Or bristling wild-boar, following on with speed?</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who will no more the friendly warblings heed</span><br /> -Of the dear, simple birds within the brake?<br /> -Who in the glowing noon-tide hour will make<br /> -No more his couch within the woods at need,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">That he the fires may follow, and the fears,</span><br /> -Jealousies, angers, rages, deaths, and pains,<br /> -Of traitorous Love, that doth the world torment?</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Upon the fields are set my loving cares</span><br /> -And have been, rose and jessamine my chains,<br /> -Free was I born, on freedom am I bent.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Gelasia was singing, and showing in the motion and expression -of her face her loveless disposition; but scarcely had she -come to the last verse of her song, when she rose with a strange -swiftness, and, as if she were fleeing from some terrible thing, -she began to hurry down by the crag, leaving the shepherds -amazed at her disposition and astounded at her swift course. -But straightway they saw what was the cause of it, on seeing -the enamoured Lenio, who with dragging step was ascending -the same crag, with the intention of coming to where Gelasia -was; but she was not willing to wait for him, so as not to fail -in a single instance to act in accordance with the cruelty of her -purpose. The wearied Lenio came to the summit of the crag, -when Gelasia was already at its foot, and seeing that she did -not check her steps, but directed them with more haste through -the spacious plain, with spent breath and tired spirit he sat -down in the same spot where Gelasia had been, and there -began with desperate words to curse his fortune, and the hour -in which he raised his eyes to gaze on the cruel shepherdess -Gelasia, and in that same moment, repenting as it were of what -he was saying, he turned to bless his eyes, and to extol the -cause that placed him in such a pass. And straightway goaded -and urged by a fit of frenzy, he flung his crook far from him, -and, stripping off his coat, cast it into the waters of the clear -Tagus, which followed close by the foot of the crag. And -when the shepherds who were watching him saw this, they -believed without a doubt that the violence of his love-passion -was depriving him of reason; and so Elicio and Erastro began -to ascend the crag to prevent him from doing any other mad -act, that might cost him more dear. And though Lenio saw -them ascending, he made no other movement save to draw his -rebeck from a wallet, and with a new and strange calm sat -down again; and turning his face to where his shepherdess -heard, he began with a voice mellow and accompanied with -tears to sing in this fashion:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_308"></a>[Pg 308]</span></p> - -<p class="p01">L<small>ENIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who drives thee on, who leadeth thee aside,</span><br /> -Who makes thee leave all loving thought behind,<br /> -Who on thy feet hath rapid pinions tied,<br /> -Wherewith thou runnest swifter than the wind?<br /> -Wherefore dost thou my lofty thought deride<br /> -And think but little of my loyal mind?<br /> -Why fleest thou from me, why leavest me?<br /> -Harder than marble to my agony!</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Am I perchance so lowly in estate</span><br /> -That I may not behold thy eyes so fair,<br /> -Or poor or niggard? Have I proved ingrate<br /> -Or false since I beheld their beauty rare?<br /> -I am in naught changed from my former state,<br /> -Does not my soul hang ever from thy hair?<br /> -Then wherefore dost thou go so far from me?<br /> -Harder than marble to my agony!</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Let thy o'erweening pride a warning take,</span><br /> -When it beholds my will, once free, subdued,<br /> -My ancient daring, see, I now forsake,<br /> -To loving purpose changed my former mood;<br /> -Behold, the forest life, that doth not make<br /> -A care of aught, 'gainst Love is nowise good,<br /> -Now stay thy steps, why wearied should they be?<br /> -Harder than marble to my agony!</p> - - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Once I was as thou art, now I behold</span><br /> -That I can ne'er be what I was before,<br /> -The force of my desire doth wax so bold,<br /> -So great my love, I love myself no more;<br /> -Love can me now within his prison hold;<br /> -This is thy palm, thy trophy in the war,<br /> -Victorious o'er me, dost complain of me?<br /> -Harder than marble to my agony!</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">While the hapless shepherd was intoning his piteous plaints, -the other shepherds were reproving Galercio for his evil design, -condemning the wicked purpose he had displayed. But the -despairing youth replied to nothing, whereat Maurisa was not -a little distressed, believing that, if left alone, he must carry out -his evil thought. In the meantime Galatea and Florisa, going -aside with Teolinda, asked her what was the cause of her return, -and if by chance she had already heard of her Artidoro. To -which she replied weeping:</p> - -<p>'I know not what to say to you, friends and ladies mine, save -that Heaven wished that I should find Artidoro, to lose him -utterly; for you must know that that same unconsiderate and -traitorous sister of mine, who was the beginning of my misfortune,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_309"></a>[Pg 309]</span> -has been the cause of the end and termination of my happiness. -For learning, as we came with Galercio and Maurisa to their -village, that Artidoro was on a mountain not far from there with -his flock, she went away to look for him without telling me -anything. She found him, and, pretending that she was I (since -for this wrong alone Heaven ordained that we should be alike), -with little difficulty gave him to understand that the shepherdess -who had disdained him in our village was a sister of hers, who -was exceedingly like her; in a word, she recounted to him, as -though they were hers, all the actions I have done for his sake, -and the extremes of grief I have suffered. And as the heart of -the shepherd was so tender and loving, with far less than the -traitress told him would she have been believed by him, as -indeed he did believe her, so much to my hurt, that without -waiting for fortune to mingle any new obstacle with his pleasure, -straightway at the very moment he gave his hand to Leonarda, -to be her lawful husband, believing he was giving it to Teolinda. -Here you see, shepherdesses, where the fruit of my tears and -sighs has ended; here you see all my hope already torn up by -the root; and what I feel most is that it has been by the hand -that was most bound to sustain it. Leonarda enjoys Artidoro -by means of the false deception I have told you, and although -he already knows it, though he must have perceived the trick, -he has kept it to himself like a wise man. The tidings of his -marriage came straightway to the village, and with them those -of the end of my happiness; the stratagem of my sister was -also known, who gave as excuse that she saw Galercio, whom -she loved so much, going to ruin through the shepherdess -Gelasia, and that therefore it seemed to her easier to bring to -her will the loving will of Artidoro than Galercio's despairing -one, and that since the two were but one as regards outward -appearance and nobility, she counted herself happy and fortunate, -indeed, with Artidoro's companionship. With this the enemy -of my bliss excuses herself, as I have said; and so I, not to see -her enjoy that which was rightly due to me, left the village and -Artidoro's presence, and accompanied by the saddest fancies -that can be fancied, came to give you the news of my misery in -the company of Maurisa, who likewise comes with the intention -of telling you what Grisaldo has done since he learnt Rosaura's -abduction. And this morning at sunrise we fell in with Galercio, -who with tender and loving words was urging Gelasia to love -him well; but she with the strongest disdain and scorn that can -be told, bade him leave her presence, nor dare ever to speak to -her. And the hapless shepherd, crushed by so harsh a bidding, -and by cruelty so strange, wished to fulfil it, doing what you -have seen. All this is what has happened to me, my friends, -since I went from your presence. Think now whether I have -more to weep for than before, and whether the cause has grown<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_310"></a>[Pg 310]</span> -for you to busy yourselves in consoling me, if perchance my woe -might admit of consolation.'</p> - -<p>Teolinda said no more, for the countless tears that came to -her eyes, and the sighs she wrung from her soul, hindered her -tongue in its office; and though the tongues of Galatea and -Florisa wished to show themselves skilful and eloquent in -consoling her, their toil was of little avail. And while this -converse was passing between the shepherdesses, the paper -which Thyrsis had taken from Galercio's bosom became dry, -and being anxious to read it he took it and saw that it ran -thus:</p> - - -<div class="p1 center">G<small>ALERCIO TO</small> G<small>ELASIA.</small></div> -<div class="poetry-container pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Angel in the guise of maid,</span><br /> -Fury with a lady's face,<br /> -Cold, and yet a glowing blaze,<br /> -Wherein my soul is assayed;<br /> -Hearken to the bitter wrong,<br /> -By thy lack of passion wrought,<br /> -Which hath from my soul been brought<br /> -And set these sad lines among.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">I write, not to move thine heart,</span><br /> -Since against thy breast of mail<br /> -Prayers nor cleverness avail,<br /> -Loyal service hath no part;<br /> -But that thou the wrong mayst see<br /> -Which thou dost inflict, I write,<br /> -And how ill thou dost requite<br /> -All the worth there is in thee.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Just it is that liberty</span><br /> -Thou shouldst praise, and thou art right,<br /> -Yet, behold, 'tis held upright<br /> -Only by thy cruelty;<br /> -Just it is not to ordain<br /> -That thou wouldst be free from strife,<br /> -And yet thine unfettered life<br /> -On so many deaths sustain.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">That all men should love thee well</span><br /> -Do not fancy 'tis dishonour,<br /> -Do not fancy that thine honour<br /> -In the use of scorn doth dwell;<br /> -Nay, the cruelty restrain<br /> -Of the wrongs that thou dost do,<br /> -And be pleased with lovers few,<br /> -Thus a better name attain.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_311"></a>[Pg 311]</span></p> -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">For thy rigour doth proclaim</span><br /> -That wild beasts did give thee birth,<br /> -That the mountains of the earth<br /> -Formed thee, harsh, whom none may tame.<br /> -For therein is thy delight,<br /> -In the moorland and the mead,<br /> -Where thou canst not find indeed<br /> -One to set thy wish alight.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Once I saw thee all alone,</span><br /> -Seated in a pleasant glade,<br /> -And, as I beheld, I said:<br /> -''Tis a statue of hard stone.'<br /> -Thou didst move and thus my view<br /> -Thou didst prove to be mistaken,<br /> -'Yet in mood,' I said, unshaken,<br /> -'She is more than statue, true.'</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Would that thou a statue were,</span><br /> -Made of stone, for then I might<br /> -Hope that Heaven for my delight<br /> -Would thee change to woman fair!<br /> -For Pygmalion could not be<br /> -So devoted to his queen,<br /> -As I am and aye have been<br /> -And shall ever be to thee.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Thou repayest, as is due,</span><br /> -Good and ill, I murmur not,<br /> -Glory for the good I wrought,<br /> -Suffering for the ill I do.<br /> -And this truth is shown abroad<br /> -In the way thou treatest me,<br /> -Life it gives me thee to see,<br /> -Thou dost slay me by thy mood.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of that breast which maketh bold</span><br /> -Love's encounters to despise,<br /> -May the fire that in my sighs<br /> -Gloweth, somewhat melt the cold,<br /> -May my tears this boon obtain,<br /> -Tears that never, never, rest,<br /> -That for one short hour thy breast<br /> -May be sweet and kind again.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Well I know thou wilt declare</span><br /> -That I am too long; 'tis true,<br /> -My desire make less, I too<br /> -Then will lesser make my prayer;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_312"></a>[Pg 312]</span><br /> -But according to the way<br /> -Thou dost deal with my requests,<br /> -Thee it little interests<br /> -Whether less or more I pray.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">If I might in words essay</span><br /> -To reproach thy cruelty,<br /> -And that sign point out to thee<br /> -Which our weakness doth display,<br /> -I would say, when I did learn<br /> -What thou art, no longer blind:<br /> -'Thou art rock, bear this in mind,<br /> -And to rock thou must return.'</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Whether rock or steel thou art,</span><br /> -Adamant or marble hard,<br /> -Steel, I am thy loving bard,<br /> -Rock, I love with all my heart;<br /> -Angel veiled, or fury, know<br /> -That the truth is all too plain,<br /> -I live, by the angel slain,<br /> -By the fury brought to woe.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="p01">Galercio's verses seemed better to Thyrsis than Gelasia's -disposition, and wishing to show them to Elicio, he saw him so -changed in hue and countenance that he seemed the image of -death. He went up to him, and when he wished to ask him if -any grief were distressing him, there was no need to await his -reply in order to learn the cause of his pain, for straightway he -heard it announced amongst all those who were there. Now -the two shepherds who helped Galercio, were friends of the -Lusitanian shepherd to whom the venerable Aurelio had agreed -to marry Galatea, and they were coming to tell him how the -fortunate shepherd would come in three days' time to his village -to conclude that most happy betrothal. And straightway -Thyrsis saw that this news must needs cause in Elicio's soul -newer and stranger symptoms than had been caused; but -nevertheless he went up to him and said to him:</p> - -<p>'Now it is necessary, good friend, that you should know how -to make use of the discretion you have, since in the greatest -peril hearts show themselves courageous, and I assure you that -there is something assures me that this business must have a -better end than you think. Dissemble and be silent, for if -Galatea's will takes no pleasure in conforming wholly with her -father's, you will satisfy yours, by availing yourself of ours, and -also of all the favour that can be offered you by all the shepherds -there are on the banks of this river, and on those of the gentle -Henares. And this favour I offer you, for I feel quite sure that<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_313"></a>[Pg 313]</span> -the desire all know I have to serve them, will constrain them to -act so that what I promise you here may not turn out vain.'</p> - -<p>Elicio remained amazed, seeing the generous and true offer -of Thyrsis, and could not nor did he know how to reply to him -save by embracing him closely and saying to him:</p> - -<p>'May Heaven reward you, discreet Thyrsis, for the consolation -you have given me, by which and by Galatea's will, which, -as I think, will not differ from ours, I understand without doubt -that so notorious a wrong as is being done to all these banks in -banishing from them the rare beauty of Galatea, shall not go -further.'</p> - -<p>And, as he turned to embrace him, the lost colour returned to -his face. But it did not return to Galatea's, to whom hearing -of the shepherds' embassy was as if she heard her death-sentence. -Elicio noted it all, and Erastro could not ignore it, -nor yet the discreet Florisa, nor indeed was the news pleasing -to any of those who were there. At this hour the sun was -already descending by his wonted course, and therefore for this -reason, as well as because they saw that the love-sick Lenio -had followed Gelasia, and there was nothing else left to do -there, all that company, taking Galercio and Maurisa with them, -bent their steps towards the village, and on coming close to it, -Elicio and Erastro remained in their huts, and with them -remained Thyrsis, Damon, Orompo, Crisio, Marsilio, Arsindo -and Orfenio, with some other shepherds. The fortunate -Timbrio, Silerio, Nisida, and Blanca took leave of them all with -courteous words and offers, telling them that on the morrow -they intended to set out for the city of Toledo, where the end of -their journey was to be; and embracing all who were remaining -with Elicio, they departed with Aurelio, with whom went -Florisa, Teolinda and Maurisa, and the sad Galatea, so heart-broken -and thoughtful that with all her discretion she could not -fail to give tokens of strange unhappiness. With Daranio -departed his wife Silveria and the fair Belisa. Thereon the -night closed in, and it seemed to Elicio that all the roads to his -pleasure were closed with it, and had it not been for welcoming -with cheerful mien the guests he had in his hut that night, he -would have spent it so badly that he would have despaired of -seeing the day. The wretched Erastro was passing through -the same trouble, though with more relief, for, without regarding -anyone, with loud cries and piteous words he cursed his fortune -and Aurelio's hasty resolve. This being so, when the shepherds -had satisfied their hunger with some rustic victuals, and some -of them had yielded themselves to the arms of peaceful sleep, -the fair Maurisa came to Elicio's hut, and finding Elicio at the -door of his hut, took him aside and gave him a paper, telling -him it was from Galatea, and that he should read it at once, -for, since she was bringing it at such an hour, he should under<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_314"></a>[Pg 314]</span>stand -that what it must contain was important. The shepherd, -wondering at Maurisa's coming, and more at seeing in his -hands a paper from his shepherdess, could not rest for a -moment until he read it, and entering his hut, read it by the -light of a splinter of resinous pine, and saw that it read thus:</p> - - -<p class="p1 center">G<small>ALATEA TO</small> E<small>LICIO.</small></p> - -<p>'In my father's hasty resolve lies the resolve I have taken to -write to you, and in the violence he uses towards me lies the -violence I have used towards myself to reach this extreme. -You well know in what an extreme pass I am, and I know well -that I would gladly see myself in a better, that I might reward -you somewhat for the much I know I owe you. But if Heaven -wishes me to remain in this debt, complain of it, and not of my -will. My father's I would gladly change, if it were possible, -but I see that it is not, and so I do not try it. If you think of -any remedy in that quarter, so long as prayers have no part in -it, put it into effect with the consideration you owe to your -reputation and hold due to my honour. He whom they are -giving me as husband, he who shall give me burial, is coming -the day after to-morrow; little time remains for you to take -counsel, though sufficient remains to me for repentance. I say -no more save that Maurisa is faithful and I unhappy.'</p> - - -<p>The words of Galatea's letter set Elicio in strange confusion, -as it seemed to him a new thing both that she should write to -him, since up till then she had never done so, and that she -should bid him seek a remedy for the wrong that was being -done her. But, passing over all these things, he paused only to -think how he should fulfil what was bidden him, though he -should hazard therein a thousand lives, if he had so many. -And as no other remedy offered itself to him save that which -he was awaiting from his friends, he made bold, trusting in -them, to reply to Galatea by a letter he gave to Maurisa, which -ran in this manner:</p> - - -<div class="p1 center">E<small>LICIO TO</small> G<small>ALATEA.</small></div> - -<p>'If the violence of my strength came up to the desire I have -to serve you, fair Galatea, neither that which your father uses -towards you, nor the greatest in the world, would have power -to injure you. But, be that as it may, you will see now, if the -wrong goes further, that I do not lag behind in doing your -bidding in the best way the case may demand. Let the faithfulness -you have known in me, assure you of this, and show a -good face to present fortune, trusting in coming prosperity, -for Heaven which has moved you to remember me and write -to me, will give me strength to show that I merit in part the -favour you have done me, for, if only it be obeying you, neither<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_315"></a>[Pg 315]</span> -fear nor dread will have power to prevent me putting into effect -what befits your happiness, and is of such import to mine. No -more, for what more there is to be in this, you will learn from -Maurisa, to whom I have given account of it; and if your -opinion does not agree with mine, let me be informed, in order -that time may not pass by, and with it the season of our -happiness, which may Heaven give you as it can and as your -worth deserves.'</p> - -<p>Having given this letter to Maurisa, as has been said, he -told her also how he was intending to assemble as many -shepherds as he could, and that all should go together to speak -to Galatea's father, asking him as a signal favour to be so kind -as not to banish from those meadows her peerless beauty; and, -should this not suffice, he was intending to place such obstacles -and terrors before the Lusitanian shepherd that he himself -would say that he was not content with what had been agreed; -and, should prayers and stratagems be of no avail, he was -resolved to use violence and thereby set her at liberty, and that -with the consideration for her reputation which could be -expected from one who loved her so much. With this resolve -Maurisa went away, and the same was taken straightway by all -the shepherds that were with Elicio, for he gave to them -account of his intentions, asking for favour and counsel in so -difficult a plight. Straightway Thyrsis and Damon offered to -be those who should speak to Galatea's father. Lauso, Arsindo, -and Erastro, with the four friends, Orompo, Marsilio, Crisio -and Orfenio, promised to look for their friends and assemble -them for the following day, and to carry out with them whatsoever -should be bidden them by Elicio. In discussing what was -best suited to the case, and in taking this resolve, the greater -part of that night passed away. And, the morning having -come, all the shepherds departed to fulfil what they had -promised, save Thyrsis and Damon, who remained with Elicio. -And that same day Maurisa came again to tell Elicio how -Galatea was resolved to follow his opinion in everything; Elicio -took leave of her with new promises and confidences; and with -joyous countenance and strange gaiety he was awaiting the -coming day to see the good or evil issue fortune was bestowing -on his work. With this night came on, and, Elicio repairing -with Damon and Thyrsis to his hut, they spent almost all of it -in testing and taking note of all the difficulties that could arise -in that affair, if perchance Aurelio was not moved by the -arguments Thyrsis intended to bring before him. But Elicio, -in order to give the shepherds opportunity for repose, went out -of his hut, and ascended a green hill that rose before it; and -there, girt round with solitude, he was revolving in his memory -all that he had suffered for Galatea, and what he feared he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_316"></a>[Pg 316]</span> -would suffer, if Heaven did not favour his plans. And without -leaving this train of thought, to the sound of a soft breeze that -was gently blowing, with a voice sweet and low he began to -sing in this wise:</p> - -<p class="p01">E<small>LICIO.</small></p> -<div class="poetry-container pw25"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">If 'midst this boiling sea and gulf profound</span><br /> -Of madness, 'midst the tempest's threatening strife,<br /> -I from so cruel a blow rescue my life,<br /> -And reach the haven, fortunate and sound,</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Each hand uplifted to the air around,</span><br /> -With humble soul and will contented, I<br /> -Shall make Love know my thanks, and Heaven on high,<br /> -For the choice bliss wherewith my life is crowned.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Then fortunate shall I my sighings call,</span><br /> -My tears shall I account as full of pleasure,<br /> -The flame wherein I burn, refreshing cold.</p> - -<p><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Love's wounds, I shall declare, are to the soul</span><br /> -Sweet, to the body wholesome, that no measure<br /> -Can mete his bliss, which boundless I behold.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p class="p01">When Elicio ended his song, the cool dawn, with her fair -cheeks of many hues, was beginning to reveal herself by the -Eastern gates, gladdening the earth, sprinkling the grass with -pearls, and painting the meadows; whose longed-for approach -the chattering birds straightway began to greet with thousand -kinds of harmonious songs. Thereon Elicio arose and, stretching -his eyes over the spacious plain, discovered not far away -two troops of shepherds, who, as it seemed to him, were making -their way towards his hut, as was the truth, for he straightway -recognised that they were his friends Lauso and Arsindo with -others whom they were bringing with them. And the others -were Orompo, Marsilio, Crisio and Orfenio, with as many of -their friends as they could assemble. Elicio then recognising -them, descended from the hill to go and welcome them; and -when they came near to the hut, Thyrsis and Damon, who were -going to look for Elicio, were already outside it. In the meantime -all the shepherds came up and welcomed each other with -joyous countenance. And straightway Lauso, turning to Elicio, -said to him:</p> - -<p>'In the company we bring, you can see, friend Elicio, whether -we are beginning to give tokens of our wish to fulfil the word -we gave you; all whom you see here, come with the desire to -serve you, though they should hazard their lives therein. What -is wanting is that you should not be wanting in what may be -most essential.'</p> - -<p>Elicio, with the best words he could, thanked Lauso and the -others for the favour they were doing him, and straightway told -them all that it had been agreed with Thyrsis and Damon to -do in order to succeed in that enterprise. What Elicio was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_317"></a>[Pg 317]</span> -saying seemed good to the shepherds; and so, without more -delay, they made their way towards the village, Thyrsis and -Damon going in front, and all the others following them, who -might be some twenty shepherds, the bravest and most graceful -that could be found on all the banks of the Tagus, and all were -minded, if the reasonings of Thyrsis did not move Aurelio to -act reasonably in what they asked him, to use force instead of -reason, nor to consent that Galatea should yield herself to the -foreign shepherd; whereat Erastro was as happy, as if a fair -issue to that demand were to redound to his happiness alone, -for, rather than lose sight of Galatea, absent and unhappy, he -held it a good bargain that Elicio should win her, as he thought -he would, since Galatea must needs be so much indebted to -him.</p> - -<p>The end of this loving tale and history, with what happened -to Galercio, Lenio and Gelasia, Arsindo, Maurisa, Grisaldo, -Artandro and Rosaura, Marsilio and Belisa, with other things -which happened to the shepherds mentioned hitherto, is -promised in the Second Part of this history. Which, if it -sees this First received with favourable wishes, will have the -boldness shortly to come out in order to be seen and judged -by the eyes and understanding of mankind.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="small1"> - -<p>[The following brief notes, based on Barrera's commentary, and corrected or -supplemented in the light of subsequent research, have been drawn up in the hope -that they may be of use to the general reader. In a certain number of cases it -has, unfortunately, been impossible to trace the writings of those mentioned in -the text. I should gratefully receive any information concerning the men or -their works. In dealing with famous authors like Lope de Vega or Góngora, -whose subsequent careers have fulfilled Cervantes's prophecies, it has been thought -unnecessary to give details which can be found in every history of Spanish -literature. It has occasionally happened that a writer is made the subject of a -longer note than his actual importance might seem, at first sight, to deserve. -The justification for this lies in the fact that such minor authors are more or less -intimately associated with Cervantes, or that the mention of their names affords -a convenient opportunity for discussing some point of interest in connexion -with his life or writings.</p> - -<p>For the sake of convenience in referring from one author to another, the notes -to the <cite>Canto de Calíope</cite> have been numbered consecutively throughout. -J. F.-K.]</p></div> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="footnotes"> -<p class="p4 center big1">FOOTNOTES:</p> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_117" href="#FNanchor_117" class="label">[117]</a> As the <cite>Canto de Calíope</cite> professes to deal solely with living poets—<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">algunos -señalados varones que en esta vuestra España viven, y algunos en las -apartadas Indias á ella sujetas</i>—the Diego Mendoza mentioned in the twentyfifth -stanza cannot refer to the celebrated historian who died ten years before the -<cite>Galatea</cite> was published. But the above lament for Meliso is unquestionably -dedicated to his memory. The phrase <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">el aprisco veneciano</i> is an allusion to -Diego Hurtado de Mendoza's embassy in Venice (1539-1547). It is not generally -known that Mendoza visited England as special Plenipotentiary in 1537-1538 -with the object of arranging two marriages: one between Mary Tudor and Prince -Luiz of Portugal, and one between Henry VIII. and Charles V.'s handsome, witty -niece, Dorothea of Denmark (afterwards Duchess of Milan), who declined the -honour on the ground that she had only one head. Mendoza's mission was a -diplomatic failure: nor does he seem to have enjoyed his stay here. He was made -much of, was banqueted at Hampton Court, and confessed that life in England -was pleasant enough; but he sighed for Barcelona, and was glad to pass on to the -Low Countries and thence to Venice. See the <cite>Calendar of State Papers -(Spain)</cite>, vol. v. J. F.-K.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_118" href="#FNanchor_118" class="label">[118]</a> Leiva's work would seem to have disappeared. In the <cite>Casa de Memoria</cite>, -which forms part of the <cite>Diversas Rimas</cite> (1591), Espinel refers to an Alonso de -Leiva in much the same terms as Cervantes uses here:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p>El ánimo gentil, el dulce llanto,<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">El blando estilo, con que enternecido</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Don Alonso de Leyva quando canta</span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">A Venus enamora, á Marte espanta.</span></p> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_119" href="#FNanchor_119" class="label">[119]</a> Alonso de Ercilla y Zúñiga was born at Madrid in 1533. He was page to -Philip II at the latter's marriage with Mary Tudor in Winchester Cathedral. He -sailed for South America in 1555, served against the Araucanos under García -Hurtado de Mendoza, Marqués de Cañete, quarrelled with a brother officer named -Juan de Pineda, was sentenced to death, reprieved at the last moment, and is -said to have been exiled to Callao. Ercilla returned to Spain in 1562, bringing -with him the First Part of his epic poem, <cite>La Araucana</cite>, which he had composed -during his campaigns. The original draft was scribbled on stray pieces of paper -and scraps of leather: "que no me costó después poco trabajo juntarlos." This -First Part was published at Madrid in 1569: the Second Part appeared in 1578, -and the Third in 1590. The author died, a disappointed man, in 1594. For a -sound appreciation of his talent see <cite>L'Araucana, poème épique por D. Alonso -de Ercilla y Zúñiga. Morceaux choisis précedés d'une étude biographique -et littéraire, suivis de notes grammaticales, et de versification et de deux -lexiques</cite> (Paris, 1900) by M. Jean Ducamin. A critical edition of <cite>La Araucana</cite> -by the eminent Chilean scholar, Sr. D. José Toribio Medina, is in preparation. -</p> -<p> -Cervantes expresses the highest opinion of <cite>La Araucana</cite> in <cite>Don Quixote</cite> -(Part I., chap. vi.) where he brackets it with Rufo's <cite>Austriada</cite> and Virués's -<cite>Monserrate</cite>:—"These three books," said the curate, "are the best that have -been written in Castilian in heroic verse, and they may compare with the most -famous of Italy; let them be preserved as the richest treasures of poetry that -Spain possesses."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_120" href="#FNanchor_120" class="label">[120]</a> Barrera believed that the reference is to Juan de Silva, Conde de Portalegre, -afterwards Governor and Captain-General of the Kingdom of Portugal. A collection -of his letters is said to be in the Biblioteca Nacional at Madrid: Silva is -further stated to have revised the manuscript of Hurtado de Mendoza's <cite>Historia -de la Guerra de Granada</cite>, first published (posthumously) by Luis de Tribaldos -de Toledo at Lisbon in 1627. He certainly wrote the introduction to Tribaldos -de Toledo's edition. -</p> -<p> -Juan de Silva, Conde de Portalegre, is said by Jacques-Charles Brunet (<cite>Manuel -du libraire et de l'amateur de livres</cite>, Paris, 1861-1880, vol. ii., col. 217) to be -the author of a work entitled <cite>Dell' unione del regno di Portogallo alla corona -di Castiglia, istoria del Sig. Ieronimo di Franchi Conestaggio, gentilhuomo -genovese</cite> (Genova, 1585). This volume was in Montaigne's library (see M. Paul -Bonnefon's valuable contribution—<cite>La Bibliothèque de Montaigne</cite>—in the -<cite>Revue d'Histoire littéraire de la France</cite>, Paris, 1895, vol. ii., pp. 344-345): -so also was the Spanish version of López de Castanheda's <cite>Historia</cite> (M. Paul -Bonnefon, <em>op. cit.</em>, p. 362). A trace of both these works is observable in the 1595 -edition of the <cite>Essais</cite> (liv. ii., chap. 21, <cite>Contre la fainéantise</cite>).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_121" href="#FNanchor_121" class="label">[121]</a> The soldier, Diego Santisteban y Osorio, is known as the author of a sequel -to Ercilla's <cite>Araucana</cite>: his fourth and fifth parts were published in 1597.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_122" href="#FNanchor_122" class="label">[122]</a> Barrera conjectures that the allusion is to Francisco Lasso de Mendoza who -wrote a prefatory sonnet for Luis Gálvez de Montalvo's <cite>Pastor de Fílida</cite>: -see note 24.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_123" href="#FNanchor_123" class="label">[123]</a> Barrera states that Diego de Sarmiento y Carvajal contributed verses to the -<cite>Primera parte de la Miscelánea austral de don Diego d'Avalós y Figueroa -en varios coloquios</cite> (Lima, 1603). I have not seen this work.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_124" href="#FNanchor_124" class="label">[124]</a> Barrera fails to give any particulars of Gutierre Carvajal of whom, also, I find -no trace in recent bibliographies.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_125" href="#FNanchor_125" class="label">[125]</a> Prefatory sonnets by the Toledan soldier, Luis de Vargas Manrique, are found -in Cervantes's <cite>Galatea</cite> and in López Maldonado's <cite>Cancionero</cite>, both published in -1585: see notes 23 and 34.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_126" href="#FNanchor_126" class="label">[126]</a> Francisco Campuzano practised medicine at Alcalá de Henares, Cervantes's -birthplace. In 1585 he contributed to López Maldonado's <cite>Cancionero</cite> and to -Padilla's <cite>Jardín espiritual</cite>: another copy of his verses precedes Gracián Dantisco's -<cite>Galateo español</cite> (1594): see notes 23, 27, and 34.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_127" href="#FNanchor_127" class="label">[127]</a> Francisco Suárez de Sosa, a native of Medina del Campo, practised as a -physician. Barrera states that Suárez de Sosa wrote <cite>Del arte como se ha de -pelear contra los turcos</cite> (1549) and <cite>De las ilustres mujeres que en el mundo -ha habido</cite>; but I do not understand him to say that either of these works was -printed. Barrera conjectures that Suárez de Sosa is introduced in the <cite>Galatea</cite> -under the name of Sasio.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_128" href="#FNanchor_128" class="label">[128]</a> Nothing seems to be known of Doctor Baza.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_129" href="#FNanchor_129" class="label">[129]</a> I have not succeeded in identifying the Licenciado Daza with any of the -Dazas mentioned by Bartolomé José Gallardo, <cite>Ensayo de una biblioteca española -de libros raros y curiosos</cite> (Madrid, 1863-1889), vol. ii., cols. 750-754.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_130" href="#FNanchor_130" class="label">[130]</a> The Maestro Garay, praised as a <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">divino ingenio</i> in Lope de Vega's <cite>Arcadia</cite>, -is represented by a <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">glosa</i>, a copy of <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">redondillas</i>, and five sonnets in Manuel -Rivadeneyra's <cite>Biblioteca de autores españoles</cite>, vol. xlii., pp. 510-511.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_131" href="#FNanchor_131" class="label">[131]</a> Cervantes's praise of the Maestro Córdoba is confirmed by Lope de Vega in the -<cite>Laurel de Apolo</cite> (silva iv.):— -</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw15"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p>Hoy á las puertas de su templo llama<br /> -Una justa memoria,<br /> -Digna de honor y gloria,<br /> -Antes que pase el alto Guadarrama,<br /> -Que mi maestro Córdoba me ofrece,<br /> -Y las musas latinas me dan voces,<br /> -Pues con tan justa causa la merece.</p> - </div> - </div> - </div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_132" href="#FNanchor_132" class="label">[132]</a> Francisco Díaz, lecturer on philosophy and medicine at the University of -Alcalá de Henares, published a <cite>Compendio de Cirujia</cite> (Madrid, 1575). In 1588 -Cervantes contributed a complimentary sonnet to Díaz' treatise on kidney disease: -<cite>Tratado nuevamente impreso acerca de las enfermedades de los riñones</cite>. -The occasion is certainly singular. It does not seem that Díaz himself published -any verse.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_133" href="#FNanchor_133" class="label">[133]</a> No trace of Luján's writings has, to my knowledge, been discovered. It -seems unlikely that Cervantes can refer to the Pedro de Luján whose <cite>Coloquios -matrimoniales</cite> were published at Seville as early as 1550: see Gallardo, <em>op. cit.</em>, -vol. iii., col. 553.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_134" href="#FNanchor_134" class="label">[134]</a> A prefatory sonnet by Juan de Vergara is found in López Maldonado's <cite>Cancionero</cite>: -see note 23.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_135" href="#FNanchor_135" class="label">[135]</a> It may be to this writer that Agustín de Rojas Villandrando alludes in the -<cite>Viaje entretenido</cite> (1603):—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw15"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p>De los farsantes que han hecho<br /> -farsas, loas, bayles, letras<br /> -son Alonso de Morales,<br /> -Grajales, Zorita Mesa, etc.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p>Two romances by an Alonso de Morales are given in Rivadeneyra, vol. xvi., -p. 248.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_136" href="#FNanchor_136" class="label">[136]</a> This prophecy has not been fulfilled: Hernando Maldonado's writings appear -to be lost.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_137" href="#FNanchor_137" class="label">[137]</a> Lope de Vega also finds place in the <cite>Laurel de Apolo</cite> (silva iii.) for -</p> -<div class="poetry-container2 pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p>Aquel ingenio, universal, profundo,<br /> -El docto Marco Antonio de la Vega,<br /> -Ilustre en verso y erudito en prosa.</p> -</div> -</div> - </div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_138" href="#FNanchor_138" class="label">[138]</a> This can scarcely refer to the famous diplomatist who died in 1575. Possibly -Cervantes may have alluded here to Captain Diego de Mendoza de Barros, -two of whose sonnets are included in Pedro Espinosa's collection entitled <cite>Flores -de poetas ilustres de España</cite> (1605). The sonnet on f. 65— -</p> -<p> - -"Pedís, Reyna, un soneto, ya lo hago—"<br /> -</p> - -<p> -may have served as Lope de Vega's model for the celebrated Sonnet on a Sonnet -in <cite>La Niña de plata</cite>. A still earlier example in this kind was given by Baltasar -del Alcázar: see note 43. For French imitations of this sonnet, see M. -Alfred Morel-Fatio's article in the <cite>Revue d'Histoire littéraire de la France</cite> -(Paris, July 15, 1896), pp. 435-439. See also Father Matthew Russell's -<cite>Sonnets on the Sonnet</cite> (London, 1898), and a note in Sr. D. Adolfo Bonilla y -San Martín's Castilian version of my <cite>History of Spanish Literature</cite> (Madrid, -1901), p. 344.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_139" href="#FNanchor_139" class="label">[139]</a> Diego Durán contributed a prefatory poem to López Maldonado's <cite>Cancionero</cite>: -see note 23. Casiano Pellicer conjectured that Durán figures in the <cite>Galatea</cite> as -Daranio: see the <cite>Introduction</cite> to the present version, p. xlviii, <em>n.</em> 2.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_140" href="#FNanchor_140" class="label">[140]</a> López Maldonado seems to have been on very friendly terms with Lope de -Vega and, more especially, with Cervantes. In <cite>Don Quixote</cite> (Part I., chap. vi), -the latter writes:—"es grande amigo mio." Lope and Cervantes both contributed -prefatory verses to López Maldonado's <cite>Cancionero</cite> (1586) of which the -Priest expressed a favourable opinion when examining Don Quixote's library:—"it -gives rather too much of its eclogues, but what is good was never yet plentiful: -let it be kept with those that have been set apart."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_141" href="#FNanchor_141" class="label">[141]</a> Luis Gálvez de Montalvo is best remembered as the author of the pastoral -novel, <cite>El Pastor de Fílida</cite> (1582); see the <cite>Introduction</cite> to the present version, -pp. xxvi and xxxi.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_142" href="#FNanchor_142" class="label">[142]</a> Pedro Liñán de Riaza's poems have been collected in the first volume of the -<cite>Biblioteca de escritores aragoneses</cite> (Zaragoza, 1876). Concerning some supplementary -pieces, omitted in this edition, see Professor Emilio Teza, <cite>Der -Cancionero von Neapel</cite>, in <cite>Romanische Forschungen</cite> (Erlangen, 1893), vol. -vii., pp. 138-144. Sr. D. Adolfo Bonilla y San Martín conjectures that Liñán de -Riaza may have had some part in connection with Avellaneda's spurious continuation -of <cite>Don Quixote</cite>: see the elaborate note in his Castilian version of my -<cite>History of Spanish Literature</cite> (Madrid, 1901), pp. 371-374.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_143" href="#FNanchor_143" class="label">[143]</a> Alonso de Valdés wrote a prologue in praise of poetry to Vicente Espinel's -<cite>Diversas rimas</cite>: see note 46.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_144" href="#FNanchor_144" class="label">[144]</a> Pedro de Padilla and Cervantes were on excellent terms: "es amigo mio," -says the latter in <cite>Don Quixote</cite> (Part I., chap. vi). Cervantes contributed complimentary -verses to Padilla's <cite>Romancero</cite> (1583), to his <cite>Jardín espiritual</cite> -(1585), and to his posthumous <cite>Grandezas y Excelencias de la Virgen</cite> (1587). -Padilla died in August 1585, shortly after the publication of the <cite>Galatea</cite>: his -<cite>Romancero</cite> has been reprinted (1880) by the Sociedad de Bibliófilos españoles.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_145" href="#FNanchor_145" class="label">[145]</a> I have met with no other allusion to Gaspar Alfonso.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_146" href="#FNanchor_146" class="label">[146]</a> The <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">heróicos versos</i> of Cristóbal de Mesa are of no remarkable merit. -Besides translations of Virgil, and the tragedy <cite>Pompeyo</cite> (1615), he published <cite>Las -Navas de Tolosa</cite> (1594), <cite>La Restauración de España</cite> (1607), the <cite>Valle de -lágrimas</cite> (1607), and <cite>El Patrón de España</cite> (1611).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_147" href="#FNanchor_147" class="label">[147]</a> Many Riberas figure in the bibliographies, but apparently none of them -is named Pedro.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_148" href="#FNanchor_148" class="label">[148]</a> Benito de Caldera's translation of Camões's <cite>Lusiadas</cite> was issued at Alcalá de -Henares in 1580. Láinez, Garay, Gálvez de Montalvo, and Vergara—all four -eulogized in this <cite>Canto de Calíope</cite>—contributed prefatory poems.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_149" href="#FNanchor_149" class="label">[149]</a> Besides a well-known <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">glosa</i> on Jorge Manrique's <cite>Coplas</cite>, Francisco de -Guzmán published the <cite>Triumphos Morales</cite> and the <cite>Decretos de Sabios</cite> at -Alcalá de Henares in 1565.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_150" href="#FNanchor_150" class="label">[150]</a> This stanza is supposed by Barrera to refer to Juan de Salcedo Villandrando -who wrote a prefatory sonnet for Diego d'Avalós y Figueroa's <cite>Miscelánea -austral</cite> (Lima, 1602).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_151" href="#FNanchor_151" class="label">[151]</a> This Tomás Gracián Dantisco was the grandson of Diego García, <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">camarero -mayor</i> at the court of the Catholic Kings, and son of Diego Gracián de Alderete, -Secretary of State and official Interpreter during the reigns of Charles V. and -Philip II. The latter studied at the University of Louvain where his name was -wrongly Latinized as Gratianus (instead of Gracianus), and, on his return to -Spain, he adopted the form Gracián. He married a daughter of Johannes de -Curiis, called (from his birthplace) Dantiscus, successively Bishop of Culm (June, -1530) and of West Ermeland (January, 1538), and Polish ambassador at the -court of Charles V.: see Leo Czaplicki, <cite>De vita et carminibus Joannis de -Curiis Dantisci</cite> (Vratislaviae, 1855). Some of Diego Gracián de Alderete's -letters are included by Sr. D. Adolfo Bonilla y San Martín in his very interesting -collection entitled <cite>Clarorum Hispaniensium epistolae ineditae</cite> (Paris, 1901), -printed in the <cite>Revue Hispanique</cite> (Paris, 1901), vol. viii., pp. 181-308. -</p> -<p> -Tomás Gracián Dantisco succeeded his father as official Interpreter, and published -an <cite>Arte de escribir cartas familiares</cite> (1589). His brother, Lucás -Gracián Dantisco, signed the <cite>Aprobación</cite> to the <cite>Galatea</cite>: see the <cite>Introduction</cite> -to the present version, p. x, <em>n.</em> 4. Another brother, Antonio Gracián Dantisco, -secretary to the King, was a good Greek scholar. He translated a treatise by -Hero of Alexandria under the title <cite>De los Pneumaticos, ó machuinas que se -hazen por atraccion de vacio</cite>. The manuscript has apparently disappeared; -but it existed as late as the time of Nicolás Antonio (<cite>Bibliotheca Hispana</cite>, -Romae, 1672, vol. i., p. 98). See also Charles Graux' <cite>Essai sur les origines -du fonds grec de l'Escurial</cite> (Paris, 1880), which forms the 46th <em>fascicule</em> of -the <cite>Bibliothèque de l'École des Hautes Etudes</cite>, and an interesting note by M. -Alfred Morel-Fatio in the <cite>Bulletin hispanique</cite> (Bordeaux, 1902), vol. iv., -p. 282.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_152" href="#FNanchor_152" class="label">[152]</a> In the <cite>Dorotea</cite> (Act iv. sc. ii.) Lope de Vega speaks of "Bautista de Vivar, -monstruo de naturaleza en decir versos de improviso con admirable impulso de -las musas"; but Vivar's merits must be taken on trust, for his writings have not -been printed. A certain Vivar, author of some verses <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">á lo divino</i>, is mentioned -by Gallardo (<em>op. cit.</em>, vol. i., col. 1023), but no specimens are given from the -manuscript which was in existence as late as November 1, 1844. -</p> -<p> -The phrase—<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">monstruo de naturaleza</i>—applied by Lope to Vivar was applied -by Cervantes to Lope in the preface to his <cite>Ocho Comedias y ocho entremeses -nuevos</cite> (Madrid, 1615). It occurs also in Lope's <cite>Hermosa Ester</cite>, the autograph -of which, dated April 5, 1610, is in the British Museum Library, Egerton MSS. -547. Mr. Henry Edward Watts (<cite>Miguel de Cervantes, his life & works</cite>, -London, 1895, p. 109) contends that Cervantes uses the expression "in bad -part" (i.e. in a sense derogatory to Lope), and cites as a parallel case the -employment of it in <cite>Don Quixote</cite> (Part I. chap. xlvi) where Sancho Panza is -described as "monstruo de naturaleza, almario de embustes, silo de bellaquerías, -inventor de maldades, publicador de sandeces," and so forth. The words <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">monstruo -de naturaleza</i> are, no doubt, open to two interpretations. It is, however, inconceivable -that Cervantes would offer so gross an insult to his successful rival as -is thus imputed to him. In his bickerings with Lope, Cervantes may sometimes -forget himself, as will happen to the best of men at times; but such vulgarity as -this is absolutely unlike him. It may be as well to note that the expression—<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">monstruo -de naturaleza</i>—was current as a compliment long before either -Cervantes or Lope used it; it will be found in Pedro de Cáceres y Espinosa's -preliminary <cite>Discurso</cite> to the poems of Gregorio Silvestre published in 1582. -</p> -<p> -Students of Spanish literary history will remember that Vivar's name was -introduced by one of the witnesses who appeared against Lope de Vega when the -latter was prosecuted for criminal libel at the beginning of 1588. Luis Vargas de -Manrique (mentioned in note 8) was reported by this witness as saying that, on -the internal evidence, one of the scandalous ballads which formed the basis of -the charge might be attributed to four or five different persons: "it may be by -Liñán (mentioned in note 25) who is not here, or by Cervantes, and he is not -here, and, since it is not mine, it may be by Vivar, or by Lope de Vega, though -Lope de Vega, if he had written it, would not so malign himself." See the <cite>Proceso -de Lope de Vega por libelo contra unos cómicos</cite> (Madrid, 1901) by the -Sres. Tomillo and Pérez Pastor.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_153" href="#FNanchor_153" class="label">[153]</a> Baltasar de Toledo's writings have not been traced.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_154" href="#FNanchor_154" class="label">[154]</a> Lope Félix de Vega Carpio was born at Madrid on November 25, 1562, and -died there on August 27, 1635. A soldier, a poet, a novelist, a dramatist, and a -priest, he ranks next to Cervantes in the history of Spanish literature. It is -impossible to give any notion of his powers within the compass of a note. -According to Pérez de Montalbán, Lope was the author of 1800 plays and 400 -<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">autos</i>: some 400 plays and some 50 <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">autos</i> survive, apart from innumerable -miscellaneous works. Lope's <cite>Obras completas</cite> are now being issued by the -Royal Spanish Academy under the editorship of Sr. D. Marcelino Menéndez y -Pelayo, and each succeeding volume—thirteen quarto volumes have already been -issued to subscribers—goes to justify his immense reputation. A short summary -of his dramatic achievement is given in my lecture on <cite>Lope de Vega and the -Spanish Drama</cite> (Glasgow and London, 1902); for fuller details of this amazing -genius and his work see Professor Hugo Albert Rennert's admirable biography -(Glasgow, 1903).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_155" href="#FNanchor_155" class="label">[155]</a> Francisco Pacheco, uncle of the author of the <cite>Arte de la pintura</cite>, was born -in 1535 and died in 1599. Some specimens of his skill in writing occasional -Latin verses are extant in Seville Cathedral—of which he was a canon. A -Latin composition from the same pen will be found in Herrera's edition of -Garcilaso, for which see note 39.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_156" href="#FNanchor_156" class="label">[156]</a> Fernando de Herrera, the chief of the Seville school of poets, was born in -1534 and died in 1597. Herrera, who was a cleric but not a priest, dedicated -many of his poems (1582) to the Condesa de Gelves, and there is interminable -discussion as to whether these verses are to be taken in a Platonic sense, or not. -Besides being a distinguished lyrical poet, Herrera proved himself an excellent -critic in the <cite>Anotaciones</cite> in his edition of Garcilaso de la Vega (1580). This -commentary was the occasion of a clever, scurrilous attack, circulated under the -pseudonym of Prete Jacopín, by Juan Fernández de Velasco, Conde de Haro, who -resented the audacity of an Andaluz in presuming to edit a Castilian poet. Haro -evidently thought that invective was an ornament of debate, for in <cite>Observación -XI.</cite> he calls his opponent <em>ydiotíssimo</em>, and in <cite>Observación XXVII.</cite> -he calls Herrera an ass: "sois Asno y no León." -</p> -<p> -Cervantes was a great admirer of Herrera whose death he commemorated in a -sonnet. Moreover, he wove into the short dedication of the First Part of <cite>Don -Quixote</cite> (to the Duque de Béjar) phrases borrowed from the dedication in -Herrera's edition of Garcilaso: see vol. iii. of the present edition (Glasgow, -1901), pp. 3-4.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_157" href="#FNanchor_157" class="label">[157]</a> That <cite>el culto Cangas</cite> had a high reputation appears from the allusion in -the <cite>Restauración de España</cite> (lib. x. est. 108) of Cristóbal de Mesa who also -dedicated a sonnet to him in the <cite>Rimas</cite> (Madrid, 1611), f. 230.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_158" href="#FNanchor_158" class="label">[158]</a> Two sonnets by Cristóbal de Villaroel are given in Espinosa's <cite>Flores de -poetas ilustres de España</cite> (1605). This extremely rare work, together with the -supplementary <cite>Flores</cite> (1611) gathered by Juan Antonio Calderón, has been edited -with great skill by Sr. D. Francisco Rodríguez Marín who, fortunately for -students, undertook to finish the work begun by Sr. D. Juan Quirós de los Ríos. -Two additional sonnets by Villaroel precede Enrique Garcés's rendering of -Petrarch: see note 68.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_159" href="#FNanchor_159" class="label">[159]</a> Francisco de Medina was born at Seville about 1550 and died there in 1615. -This pleasing poet was of great assistance to Herrera in the work of editing -Garcilaso. Herrera's edition, which includes examples of Medina's verse, also -contains a preface by Medina which was utilized by Cervantes in the dedication -of the <cite>First Part of Don Quixote</cite>: see note 39 and vol. iii. of the present -edition (Glasgow, 1901), pp. 3-4.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_160" href="#FNanchor_160" class="label">[160]</a> Baltasar del Alcázar was born in 1540 and died in 1606. His graceful, -witty poems were reissued in 1878 by the Sociedad de Bibliófilos Andaluces. -Alcázar's Sonnet on a Sonnet (see note 21) lacks a line in the version printed -by Gallardo, <em>op. cit.</em>, vol. i., col. 75.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_161" href="#FNanchor_161" class="label">[161]</a> Cristóbal Mosquera de Figueroa was born in 1553 and died in 1610. He is -best known as the author of a <cite>Comentario en breve compendio de disciplina -militar</cite> (Madrid, 1596) for which Cervantes wrote a sonnet on the famous -Marqués de Santa Cruz. Specimens of Mosquera de Figueroa's verse are to be -found in Herrera's edition of Garcilaso.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_162" href="#FNanchor_162" class="label">[162]</a> The Sevillian priest, Domingo de Becerra, as appears from Fernández de -Navarrete's <cite>Vida de Cervantes Saavedra</cite> (Madrid, 1819, pp. 386-387), was a -prisoner in Algiers with Cervantes, and was ransomed at the same time as the -latter. Becerra was then (1580) forty-five years of age. He translated Giovanni -Della Casa's <cite>Il Galateo</cite>, and published his version at Venice in 1585.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_163" href="#FNanchor_163" class="label">[163]</a> Vicente Espinel was born in 1550 and is conjectured to have died between -1624 and 1634. He is said to have added a fifth string to the guitar, and to have -introduced <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">espinelas</i>: "perdónesele Dios," is Lope's comment in the <cite>Dorotea</cite> -(act. i. sc. vii.). Espinel's <cite>Diversas rimas</cite> (1591) are now only known to -students; but his picaresque novel, <cite>Marcos de Obregón</cite> (Madrid, 1618), still -finds, and deserves to find, many readers. In the 1775 edition of the <cite>Siècle -de Louis XIV.</cite> Voltaire alleged that <cite>Gil Blas</cite> was "entièrement pris du -roman espagnol <cite>La Vidad de lo Escudiero Dom Marcos d'Obrego</cite>." It will -be observed that, in transcribing the title, Voltaire makes almost as many -mistakes as the number of words allows. His statement is a grotesque -exaggeration, but it had the merit of suggesting a successful practical joke -to José Francisco de Isla. This sly wag translated <cite>Gil Blas</cite> into Spanish, -mischievously pretending that the book was thus "restored to its country and -native language by a jealous Spaniard who will not allow his nation to be made -fun of." Unluckily, the naughty Jesuit did not live to see the squabbles of the -learned critics who fell into the trap that he had baited for them. It is, by the -way, a curious and disputed point whether the Comte de Neufchâteau's celebrated -<cite>Examen de la question de savoir si Lesage est l'auteur de Gil Blas ou -s'il l'a pris de l'espagnol</cite> (1818) was, or was not, taken word for word from a -juvenile essay by Victor Hugo: see <cite>Victor Hugo raconté par un témoin de -sa vie</cite> (Bruxelles and Leipzig, 1863), vol. i., p. 396. -In the <cite>Adjunta al Parnaso</cite> Cervantes calls Espinel "uno de los más antiguos -y verdaderos amigos que yo tengo." In his <cite>Rimas</cite> Espinel had been most -complimentary to Cervantes. But Pellicer and Fernández de Navarrete have -spoken harshly of him for being (as they imagined) jealous of the success of <cite>Don -Quixote</cite>; and Mr. Henry Edward Watts (<em>op. cit.</em>, p. 157, <em>n.</em> 1) asserts that -Espinel "took occasion after Cervantes' death to speak of his own <cite>Marcos de -Obregón</cite> ... as superior to <cite>Don Quixote</cite>." This is not so. There may be -authors who suppose that their immortal masterpieces are superior to the -ephemeral writings of everybody else: but they seldom say this—at least, in -print. Nor did Espinel. It must suffice, for the moment, to note that the -above-mentioned fable is mainly based on the fact that the Gongoresque -poet and preacher, Hortensio Félix Paravicino y Arteaga, wrote as follows -in his <cite>Aprobación to Marcos de Obregón</cite>: "El Libro del Escudero, que -escriuio el Maestro Espinel, y V. M. me manda censurar, he visto, y no -hallo en el cosa que se oponga à nuestra santa Fè Catolica Romana, ni -ofenda à la piedad de las buenas costumbres della, antes de los libros deste -género, que parece de entretenimiento comun, es el que con más razón deue -ser impreso, por tener el prouecho tan cerca del deleyte, que sin perjudicar -enseña, y sin diuertir entretiene: el estilo, la inuencion, el gusto de las -cosas, y la moralidad, que deduze dellas, arguyen bien la pluma que la ha -escrito, tan justamente celebrada en todas naciones. A mi alomenos de los -libros deste argumento me parece la mejor cosa que nuestra lengua tendrà, y -que V.m. deue darle vna aprouacion muy honrada. Guarde nuestro Señor -à V. M." -</p> -<p> -It is Paravicino, not Espinel, who speaks: and the eulogistic phrases -which he uses do not exceed the limits of the recognized convention on -such occasions.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_164" href="#FNanchor_164" class="label">[164]</a> Jerónimo Sánchez de Carranza was introduced to England by Ben Jonson -as an authority on honour and arms. Bobadil, in <cite>Every Man in his humour</cite> -(Act 1, sc. 4) says:—"By the foot of Pharaoh, an' 'twere my case now I should -send him a chartel presently. The bastinado, a most proper and sufficient -dependence, warranted by the great Carranza." Carranza wrote the <cite>Philosophia -y destreza de las armas</cite> (Sanlúcar de Barrameda, 1582); a later treatise, the -<cite>Libro de las grandezas de la espada</cite> (Madrid, 1600) was issued by the -counter-expert of the next generation, Luis Pacheco de Narváez. I need scarcely -remind most readers that Pacheco de Narváez, the famous fencing-master, was -ignominiously disarmed by Quevedo—an incomparable hand with the foil, -despite his lameness and short sight. Pacheco naturally smarted under the -disgrace, and seems to have shown his resentment in an unpleasant fashion whenever -he had an opportunity. The respective merits of Carranza and Pacheco -divided Madrid into two camps. Literary men were prominent in the fray. -Suárez de Figueroa, Vélez de Guevara, and Ruiz de Alarcón declared for -Pacheco. Among Carranza's partisans were Luis Mendoza de Carmona -and, as might be expected, Quevedo who mentions the <cite>Libro de las grandezas -de la espada</cite> in his <cite>Historia de la vida del Buscón</cite> (lib. i. -cap. viii.).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_165" href="#FNanchor_165" class="label">[165]</a> Two sonnets by Lázaro Luis Iranzo are given in Rivadeneyra, <em>op. cit.</em>, vol. iv., -pp. 180, 364.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_166" href="#FNanchor_166" class="label">[166]</a> Baltasar de Escobar is represented in Espinosa's <cite>Flores de poetas ilustres</cite>: -a complimentary letter addressed by Escobar to Cristóbal de Virués is printed in -Rivadeneyra, <em>op. cit.</em>, vol. lxii., p. 37.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_167" href="#FNanchor_167" class="label">[167]</a> A sonnet on the sack of Cádiz by Juan Sanz de Zumeta is given in Juan -Antonio Pellicer's edition of <cite>Don Quixote</cite> (Madrid, 1797-1798), vol. i., -p. lxxxvi.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_168" href="#FNanchor_168" class="label">[168]</a> The correct, full form of this writer's name seems to be Juan de la Cueva de -Garoza. He is conjectured to have been born in 1550 and to have died in 1609. -This interesting dramatist was among the most distinguished of Lope de Vega's -immediate predecessors, and in such plays as <cite>El Cerco de Zamora</cite> he comes near -anticipating Lope's methods. In his <cite>Exemplar poético</cite> (1609) Cueva declares -that he was the first to bring kings upon the stage, an innovation that was censured -at the time:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p>A mi me culpan de que fuí el primero<br /> -que Reyes y Deydades di al teatro<br /> -de las Comedias traspasando el fuero.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p> -Evidently Cueva did not know that Torres Naharro introduces a king in his -<cite>Aquilana</cite>. A reprint of Cueva's plays is urgently needed: his purely poetic -work is of slight value. An edition of <cite>El Viage de Sannio</cite>, with an -admirable Introduction by Professor Fredrik Amadeus Wulff will be found -in the <cite>Acta Universitatis Lundensis</cite> (Lund, 1887-1888), (Philosophi, -Språkvetenskap och Historia), vol. xxiii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_169" href="#FNanchor_169" class="label">[169]</a> Nothing by Adán Vivaldo has survived, apparently. Cervantes assigns this -surname to a minor character in <cite>Don Quixote</cite> (Part I., chap. xiii.).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_170" href="#FNanchor_170" class="label">[170]</a> It would be interesting to know how far this panegyric on Juan Aguayo was -justified. I have failed to find any information concerning him or his works.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_171" href="#FNanchor_171" class="label">[171]</a> The dates of the birth and death of the Cordoban poet, Juan Rufo Gutiérrez, -are given conjecturally as 1530 and 1600. Cervantes esteemed Rufo's <cite>Austriada</cite> -inordinately: see note 2. In truth the <cite>Austriada</cite> is a tedious performance, -being merely a poor rhythmical arrangement of Diego Hurtado de Mendoza's -<cite>Guerra de Granada</cite>. Mendoza's history was not published till 1627, long after -the author's death (1575). It was issued at Lisbon by Luis Tribaldos de Toledo -who, in the previous year, had brought out a posthumous edition of the poems of -Francisco de Figueroa—the Tirsi of the <cite>Galatea</cite>. Evidently, then, Rufo read -the <cite>Guerra de Granada</cite> in manuscript: see M. Foulché-Delbosc's article in -the <cite>Revue hispanique</cite> (Paris, 1894), vol. i., pp. 137-138, <em>n.</em></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_172" href="#FNanchor_172" class="label">[172]</a> Luis de Góngora y Argote was born in 1561 and died in 1627. His father, -Francisco de Argote, was Corregidor of Córdoba, and it has been generally stated -that the poet assumed his mother's maiden name. However, the Sra. Doña Blanca -de los Ríos y de Lampérez alleges that Góngora's real name was Luis de Argote y -Argote: see an article entitled <cite>De vuelta de Salamanca in La España -moderna</cite> (Madrid, June 1897). I do not know precisely upon what ground this -statement is made. Despite the perverse affectations into which his <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">culteranismo</i> -led him, Góngora is one of the most eminent Spanish poets, and unquestionably -among the greatest artists in Spanish literature. A passage in the <cite>Viaje del -Parnaso</cite> (cap. vii.) seems to imply that Cervantes admired Góngora's very -obscure work, the <cite>Polifemo</cite>:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">De llano no le déis, dadle de corte,</span><br /> -Estancias Polifemas, al poeta<br /> -Que no os tuviere por su guía y norte.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Inimitables sois, y á la discreta</span><br /> -Gala que descubrís en lo escondido<br /> -Toda elegancia puede estar sujeta.</p> -</div> -</div> - - - -<p>M. Foulché-Delbosc has in preparation a complete edition of Góngora's works.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_173" href="#FNanchor_173" class="label">[173]</a> Barrera conjectures that this Gonzalo Cervantes Saavedra may be the author -of a novel entitled <cite>Los Pastores del Betis</cite>, published at Trani in 1633-4. I do -not know this work, which may have been issued posthumously. It seems unlikely -that Gonzalo Cervantes Saavedra began novel-writing when over seventy years -old: for we may take it that he was over twenty when his namesake praised -him, as above, in 1585.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_174" href="#FNanchor_174" class="label">[174]</a> Gonzalo Gómez de Luque wrote the <cite>Libro primero de los famosos hechos -del príncipe Don Celidon de Iberia</cite> (Alcalá de Henares, 1583); but the only -works of his with which I am acquainted are the verses in Padilla's <cite>Jardín -espiritual</cite> and López Maldonado's <cite>Cancionero</cite>: see notes 27 and 23.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_175" href="#FNanchor_175" class="label">[175]</a> Two sonnets by Gonzalo Mateo de Berrío are included in Espinosa's <cite>Flores -de poetas ilustres</cite>. Espinel refers to him in the preface to <cite>Marcos de Obregón</cite>: -Lope mentions him in the <cite>Laurel de Apolo</cite> (silva ii.) and in the <cite>Dorotea</cite> -(Act iv., sc. ii.) Berrío signed the <cite>Aprobación</cite> to Cairasco de Figueroa's <cite>Templo -militante</cite>: see note 73.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_176" href="#FNanchor_176" class="label">[176]</a> Luis Barahona de Soto was born in 1548 at Lucena (Lucena de Córdoba and -not Lucena del Puerto, as Barrera supposed). After some wanderings he settled -at Archidona where he practised medicine. He is said to have died <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">ab intestato</i> -on November 6, 1595. A complimentary sonnet by him appears in Cristóbal de -Mesa's <cite>Restauración de España</cite> (Madrid, 1607): it would seem, therefore, -that Mesa's <cite>Restauración</cite> must have been in preparation for at least a dozen -years. Some verses by Barahona de Soto are given in Espinosa's <cite>Flores de poetas -ilustres</cite>: four of his satires, and his <cite>Fábula de Acteón</cite> are printed in Juan José -López de Sedano's <cite>Parnaso Español</cite> (Madrid, 1768-1778), vol. ix., pp. 53-123. -Barahona de Soto's best known work is <cite>La primera parte de la Angélica</cite> -(Granada, 1586) which, in the colophon, has the alternative title of <cite>Las lágrimas -de Angélica</cite>. There is a famous allusion to this work in <cite>Don Quixote</cite> (Part I., -chap. vi.):—"I should have shed tears myself," said the curate when he heard -the title, "had I ordered that book to be burned, for its author was one of the -famous poets of the world, not to say of Spain, and was very happy in the -translation of some of Ovid's fables." As Mr. Ormsby observed:—"The anti-climax -here almost equals Waller's:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p>'Under the tropic is our language spoke,<br /> -And part of Flanders hath received our yoke'."</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>See vol. iii. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1901), p. 53, <em>n.</em> 3. -It has often been questioned whether Barahona de Soto ever wrote a Second -Part of the <cite>Angélica</cite>. Since the publication of the <cite>Diálogos de la Montería</cite> -(Madrid, 1890) by the Sociedad de Bibliófilos Españoles, under the editorship of -Sr. D. Francisco R. de Uhagón, it seems practically certain that he at all events -began the Second Part, if he did not finish it. The <cite>Diálogos de la Montéria</cite> -contain numerous passages quoted from the Second Part; and in a biographical, -bibliographical and critical study, which Sr. D. Francisco Rodríguez Marín is now -correcting for the press, it will be shown that Barahona de Soto was, in all probability, -himself the author of these <cite>Diálogos</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_177" href="#FNanchor_177" class="label">[177]</a> A sonnet by Francisco de Terrazas figures in Pedro Espinosa's <cite>Floresta de -poetas ilustres de España</cite>: three more sonnets by Terrazas will be found in -Gallardo, vol. i., <em>op. cit.</em>, cols. 1003-1007.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_178" href="#FNanchor_178" class="label">[178]</a> Barrera does not help us to discover anything of Martínez de Ribera, who may -have published in the Indies.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_179" href="#FNanchor_179" class="label">[179]</a> Barrera vaguely infers from the text that Alonso Picado was a native of -Peru.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_180" href="#FNanchor_180" class="label">[180]</a> Alonso de Estrada is conjectured by Barrera to have been born in the Indies.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_181" href="#FNanchor_181" class="label">[181]</a> Nothing seems to be known of Avalos y de Ribera.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_182" href="#FNanchor_182" class="label">[182]</a> I have never met with any of Sancho de Ribera's writings: a sonnet to him -is found among Garcés's translations from Petrarch: see note 68.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_183" href="#FNanchor_183" class="label">[183]</a> A sonnet by Pedro de Montesdoca, <cite>El Indiano</cite>, is prefixed to Vicente -Espinel's <cite>Diversas rimas</cite> (1591).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_184" href="#FNanchor_184" class="label">[184]</a> A sonnet by Diego de Aguilar precedes Garcés's translation of Camões's -<cite>Lusiadas</cite>: see note 68. I presume him to be the author of another prefatory -sonnet in López Maldonado's <cite>Cancionero</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_185" href="#FNanchor_185" class="label">[185]</a> No information is forthcoming as to Gonzalo Fernández de Sotomayor or his -works.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_186" href="#FNanchor_186" class="label">[186]</a> Henrique Garcés published <cite>Los sonetos y canciones del Poeta Francisco -Petrarcha</cite> (Madrid, 1591), and <cite>Los Lusiadas de Luys de Camoes</cite> (Madrid, 1591).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_187" href="#FNanchor_187" class="label">[187]</a> The <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">vena inmortal</i> of Rodrigo Fernández de Pineda does not seem to have -expressed itself in print.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_188" href="#FNanchor_188" class="label">[188]</a> The name of Juan de Mestanza recurs in the <cite>Viaje del Parnaso</cite> (cap. vii.).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_189" href="#FNanchor_189" class="label">[189]</a> An American, so Barrera thinks: there is no trace of his writings.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_190" href="#FNanchor_190" class="label">[190]</a> Another American, according to Barrera; there is no trace of his writings -either.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_191" href="#FNanchor_191" class="label">[191]</a> Bartolomé Cairasco de Figueroa was born at the Canaries in 1540, became -Prior of the Cathedral there, and died in 1610. His <cite>Templo militante, flos -santorum, y triumphos de sus virtudes</cite> was issued in four parts: (Valladolid, -1602), (Valladolid, 1603), (Madrid, 1609), and (Lisbon, 1614). Selections are -given in Juan José López de Sedano's <cite>Parnaso español</cite> (Madrid, 1768-1778), -vol. v., pp. 332-363, and vol. vi., pp. 191-216. Cairasco de Figueroa wrote -a prefatory poem to Carranza's <cite>Libro de las grandezas de la espada</cite>: see note -47. According to the Spanish annotators of Ticknor's <cite>History</cite>, Cairasco left -behind him a version (unpublished) of Ariosto's <cite>Gerusalemme</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_192" href="#FNanchor_192" class="label">[192]</a> Barrera states that a sonnet by Damián de Vega is prefixed to Juan Bautista -de Loyola's <cite>Viaje y naufragios del Macedonio</cite> (Salamanca, 1587). I do not -know this work.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_193" href="#FNanchor_193" class="label">[193]</a> The celebrated scholar, Francisco Sánchez, usually called <cite>El Brocense</cite> from -his native place, was born at Las Brozas (Extremadura) in 1523, became professor -of Greek and Rhetoric at Salamanca, and died in 1601. He edited Garcilaso -(Salamanca, 1581), Juan de Mena (Salamanca, 1582), Horace (Salamanca, 1591), -Virgil (Salamanca, 1591), Politian's <cite>Silvae</cite> (Salamanca, 1596), Ovid (Salamanca, -1598), Persius (Salamanca, 1599). To these should be added the <cite>Paradoxa</cite> -(Antwerp, 1582), and a posthumous commentary on Epictetus (Pamplona, 1612). -<cite>A Practical Grammar of the Latin Tongue</cite>, based on Sánchez, was published -in London as recently as 1729. <cite>El Brocense</cite> was prosecuted by the -Inquisition in 1584, and again in 1588. The latter suit was still dragging -on when Sánchez died. See the <cite>Colección de documentos inéditos para -la historia de España</cite> (Madrid, 1842, etc.), vol. ii., pp. 5-170.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_194" href="#FNanchor_194" class="label">[194]</a> The lawyer Francisco de la Cueva y Silva was born at Medina del Campo about -1550. His verses appear in Pedro Espinosa's <cite>Flores de poetas ilustres de -España</cite>; he wrote a prefatory poem for Escobar Cabeza de Vaca's <cite>Luzero de la -tierra sancta</cite>, and is said to be the author of a play entitled <cite>El bello Adonis</cite>. -Lope de Vega's <cite>Mal Casada</cite> is dedicated to Cueva whose high professional -reputation may be inferred from the closing lines of a well-known sonnet by -Quevedo:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Todas las leyes, con discurso fuerte</span><br /> -Venció; y ansí parece cosa nueva,<br /> -Que le vinciese, siendo ley, la muerte.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Cueva is mentioned, together with Berrío (see note 58), in the <cite>Dorotea</cite> -(Act. iv. sc. ii.): "Don Francisco de la Cueva, y Berrío, jurisconsultos -gravísimos, de quien pudiéramos decir lo que de Dino y Alciato, interpretes -consultísimos de las leyes y poetas dulcísimos, escribieron comedias que se -representaron con general aplauso."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_195" href="#FNanchor_195" class="label">[195]</a> The famous mystic writer and poet Luis Ponce de León was born at Belmonte -(Cuenca) in 1527, joined the Augustinian Order in 1544, and was appointed -professor of theology at Salamanca in 1561. He became involved in an academic -squabble and was absurdly suspected of conspiring with the professors of Hebrew, -Martín Martínez de Cantalapiedra and Juan Grajal, to interpret the Scriptures in a -rabbinical sense. A plot seems to have been organized against him by Bartolomé -de Medina, and, perhaps, by León de Castro, the professor of Greek at Salamanca. -Luis de León was likewise accused of having translated the <cite>Song of Songs</cite> in the -vernacular, and it has hitherto been thought that this charge told most heavily -against him in the eyes of the Holy Office. It now appears that the really damaging -accusation in the indictment referred to the supposed heterodoxy of Fray Luis's -views as to the authority of the Vulgate: see a learned series of chapters entitled -<cite>Fray Luis de León; estudio biográfico y crítico</cite> published by the Rev. Father -Francisco Blanco García (himself an Augustinian monk) in <cite>La Ciudad de Dios</cite> -(from January 20, 1897 onwards, at somewhat irregular intervals). Luis de León -was arrested in March 1572 and imprisoned till December 1576, when he was -discharged as innocent. In 1579 he was appointed to the chair of Biblical -History at Salamanca, his chief competitor being Fray Domingo de Guzmán, -son of the great poet Garcilaso de la Vega. In 1582 Fray Luis was once more -prosecuted before the Inquisition because of his supposed heterodoxy concerning -the question <cite>de auxiliis</cite>: see the <cite>Segundo proceso instruído por la Inquisición -de Valladolid contra Fray Luis de León</cite> (Madrid, 1896), annotated by the -Rev. Father Francisco Blanco García. In 1591 Fray Luis was elected Provincial -of the Augustinian Order: he died ten days later. While in jail he -wrote what is, perhaps, the noblest mystic work in the Spanish language, <cite>Los -Nombres de Cristo</cite>, the first two books of which were published in 1583—the -complete work (including a third book) being issued in 1585. In 1583 also -appeared his <cite>Perfecta casada</cite>. Fray Luis, in a fortunate hour for mankind, -edited the writings of Santa Teresa, rescuing from the rash tamperings of -blunderers works which he instantly recognized as masterpieces. His verses were -published by Quevedo in 1631: they at once gave Fray Luis rank as one of the -great Spanish poets, though he himself seems to have looked upon them as mere -trifles.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_196" href="#FNanchor_196" class="label">[196]</a> Matías de Zúñiga, whose genius Cervantes here declares to have been divine, -does not appear to have published anything.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_197" href="#FNanchor_197" class="label">[197]</a> Certain poems ascribed to Damasio de Frías are given by Juan José López de -Sedano in <cite>El Parnaso Español</cite> (Madrid, 1768-1778), vols. ii. and vii.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_198" href="#FNanchor_198" class="label">[198]</a> Barrera merely states that Andrés Sanz del Portillo resided in Castilla la -Vieja: his writings have not reached us.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_199" href="#FNanchor_199" class="label">[199]</a> Possibly this writer may be identical with the Pedro de Soria who contributed -a sonnet to Jerónimo de Lomas Cantoral's <cite>Obras</cite>: see note 83.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_200" href="#FNanchor_200" class="label">[200]</a> The <cite>Obras</cite> of Jerónimo de Lomas Cantoral appeared at Madrid in 1578. -They include translations of three <i lang="it" xml:lang="it">canzoni</i> by Luigi Tansillo.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_201" href="#FNanchor_201" class="label">[201]</a> Jerónimo Vaca y de Quiñones contributed a sonnet to Pedro de Escobar -Cabeza de Vaca's <cite>Luzero de la tierra sancta, y grandezas de Egypto, y monte -Sinay</cite> (Valladolid, 1587): see note 77.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_202" href="#FNanchor_202" class="label">[202]</a> Lupercio Leonardo de Argensola was born in 1559, and died in 1613 at -Naples, whither he had accompanied the Conde de Lemos three years earlier. -His admirable poems, and those of his brother, were issued posthumously in 1634: -see note 86. His <cite>Isabela</cite>, <cite>Fílis</cite> and <cite>Alejandra</cite> are praised in <cite>Don Quixote</cite> as -"three tragedies acted in Spain, written by a famous poet of these kingdoms, -which were such that they filled all who heard them with admiration, delight, and -interest, the ignorant as well as the wise, the masses as well as the higher orders, -and brought in more money to the performers, these three alone, than thirty of -the best that have since been produced": see vol. iv. of the present edition -(Glasgow, 1901), p. 214. The <cite>Fílis</cite> seems to be lost. The <cite>Isabela</cite> and <cite>Alejandra</cite>, -neither of them very interesting, were first published in 1772 by Juan José -López de Sedano in <cite>El Parnaso Español</cite> (Madrid, 1768-1778), vol. vi., pp. -312-524. There may be a touch of friendly exaggeration in Cervantes's account -of their success on the boards. At all events, the author of these pieces soon -abandoned the stage, and, when the theatres were closed on the death of the -Queen of Piedmont, he was prominent among those who petitioned that the closure -might be made permanent. A Royal decree in that sense was issued on May 2, -1598. In the following year Lupercio Leonardo de Argensola was appointed chief -chronicler of Aragón. The <cite>Isabela</cite> and <cite>Alejandra</cite> are reprinted in the first -volume of the Conde de la Viñaza's edition of the Argensolas' <cite>Poesías sueltas</cite> -(Madrid, 1889).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_203" href="#FNanchor_203" class="label">[203]</a> Bartolomé Leonardo de Argensola was born in 1562 and died in 1631. He -took orders, became Rector of Villahermosa, and succeeded his brother as official -chronicler of Aragón. He published the <cite>Conquista de las Islas Malacas</cite> -(Madrid, 1609), and the <cite>Anales de Aragón</cite> (Zaragoza, 1631)—the latter being -a continuation of Jerónimo de Zurita's <cite>Anales de la Corona de Aragón</cite> -(1562-1580). The poems of both brothers were issued by Lupercio's son, Gabriel -Leonardo de Albión, in a volume entitled <cite>Las Rimas que se han podido recoger</cite> -<cite>de Lupercio, y del Doctor Bartolomé Leonardo de Argensola</cite> (Zaragoza, -1634). Lope de Vega had a great esteem for the Argensolas whose polished -diction, rare in men of Aragonese birth, he regarded as an antidote to the extravagances—the -<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">frases horribles</i>, as he says—of <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">culteranismo</i>. The very considerable -merits of the Argensolas were likewise appreciated by Cervantes who, -however, seems to have cooled somewhat towards the brothers when the Conde de -Lemos, on his appointment as Viceroy of Naples, attached them to his household. -It is said that Cervantes himself hoped to form part of Lemos's suite, and that he -was annoyed with the Argensolas for not pushing his claims as vigorously as he -expected of them. At this distance of time, it is impossible for us to know what -really happened; but a passage in the <cite>Viaje del Parnaso</cite> (cap. iii.) does appear -to imply that Cervantes had a grievance of some kind against the Argensolas:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Que no sé quien me dice, y quien me exhorta,</span><br /> -Que tienen para mi, á lo que imagino,<br /> -La voluntad, como la vista corta.</p> -</div> -</div> - </div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_204" href="#FNanchor_204" class="label">[204]</a> The writings of Cosme Pariente are unknown to Barrera, and to later -bibliographers.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_205" href="#FNanchor_205" class="label">[205]</a> Diego Murillo was born at Zaragoza about 1555, joined the Franciscans, and -became a popular preacher. He is the author of the <cite>Instruccion para enseñar -la virtud á los principiantes</cite> (Zaragoza, 1598), the <cite>Escala espiritual para la -perfección evangélica</cite> (Zaragoza, 1598), the <cite>Vida y excelencias de la Madre -de Dios</cite> (Zaragoza, 1610), and six volumes of <cite>Discursos predicables</cite>, published -at Zaragoza and Lisbon between 1602 and 1611. The most accessible of Murillo's -works are the <cite>Fundación milagrosa de la capilla angélica y apostólica de la -Madre de Dios del Pilar</cite> (Barcelona, 1616), and a volume entitled <cite>Divina, -dulce y provechosa poesía</cite> (Zaragoza, 1616). His verse (some specimens of -which are given in Böhl de Faber's <cite>Floresta de rimas antiguas castellanas</cite>) is -better than his prose, but in neither does he fulfil the expectations raised by -Cervantes's compliments.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_206" href="#FNanchor_206" class="label">[206]</a> Juan Coloma, Conde de Elda, is responsible for a <cite>Década de la Pasión de -Jesu Christo</cite> (Cádiz, 1575).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_207" href="#FNanchor_207" class="label">[207]</a> Pedro Luis Garcerán de Borja is also introduced by Gil Polo in the <cite>Canto -del Turia</cite>: see note 94. He held the appointment of Captain-General of Oran, -where Cervantes may have met him: at the time of his death in 1592 he was -Captain-General of Catalonia.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_208" href="#FNanchor_208" class="label">[208]</a> Alonso Girón y de Rebolledo is likewise introduced by Gil Polo in the <cite>Canto -del Turia</cite>: see note 94. His <cite>Pasión de nuestro Señor Jesu Christo según -Sanct Joan</cite> (Valencia, 1563) met with considerable success. It contains a complimentary -sonnet by Gil Polo: in the following year Girón y de Rebolledo -repaid the attention by contributing a sonnet to Gil Polo's <cite>Diana enamorada</cite>.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_209" href="#FNanchor_209" class="label">[209]</a> Jaime Juan de Falcon, like Garcerán de Borja and Girón y de Rebolledo, -figures in Gil Polo's <cite>Canto del Turia</cite>: see note 94. He was born in 1522 and -died in 1594, having (as he believed) squared the circle. Amongst other works -he published the <cite>Quadratura circuli</cite> (Valencia, 1587): his <cite>Obras poéticas -latinas</cite> (Madrid, 1600) appeared posthumously.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_210" href="#FNanchor_210" class="label">[210]</a> Andrés Rey de Artieda was born in 1549 and died in 1613. His youth was -one of rare promise. Though not yet fourteen years old when Gil Polo wrote -the <cite>Diana enamorada</cite>, he is introduced to us as a poet in the <cite>Canto del -Turia</cite>:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p>y prometernos han sus tiernas flores<br /> -frutos entre los buenos los mejores.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p>This phrase may have been in Cervantes's mind when writing of his own play, -<cite>La Confusa</cite>: "la cual, con paz sea dicho de cuantas comedias de capa y espada -hasta hoy se han representado, bien puede tener lugar señalado par buena entre -las mejores" (see the <cite>Adjunta al Parnaso</cite>). -</p> -<p> -Artieda graduated in arts at the University of Valencia in 1563, and studied later -at Lérida and Tolosa, taking his degree as doctor of both civil and canonical law at -the age of twenty. This brilliant academic success was received <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">con aplauso y -pronósticos extraños</i>, and a great future seemed to await him. However, he -was something of a rolling stone. He practised for a short while at the bar, but -abandoned the profession in disgust and entered the army. Here, again, he -seemed likely to carry all before him. In his first campaign he was promoted at -a bound to the rank of captain, but his luck was now run out. Like Cervantes, -he received three wounds at Lepanto. He was present at the relief of Cyprus, -and served under Parma in the Low Countries. His intrepidity was proverbial, -and he is said to have swum across the Ems in midwinter, his sword gripped -between his teeth, under the enemy's fire. These heroic feats do not appear to -have brought him advancement, and, in the <cite>Viaje del Parnaso</cite> (cap. iii.), -Cervantes, who would seem to have known him personally, speaks of Artieda -grown old as—</p> - -<p class="center p1">Más rico de valor que de moneda.</p> - -<p> -Artieda is said to have written plays entitled <cite>El Príncipe vicioso</cite>, <cite>Amadís de -Gaula</cite>, and <cite>Los Encantos de Merlín</cite>: he is the author of a mediocre tragedy, -<cite>Los Amantes</cite> (Valencia, 1581) which may have been read by Tirso de Molina -before he wrote <cite>Los Amantes de Teruel</cite>. Artieda published an anthology of -his verses under the pseudonym of Artemidoro: <cite>Discursos, epístolas y epigramas -de Artemidoro</cite> (Zaragoza, 1605). Some passages in this collection express -the writer's hostility to the new drama, and betray a certain pique at the success -of his former friend, Lope de Vega. Lope, however, praises Artieda very -generously in the <cite>Laurel de Apolo</cite> (silva ii.).</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_211" href="#FNanchor_211" class="label">[211]</a> Gaspar Gil Polo published the <cite>Diana enamorada</cite> at Valencia in 1564. The -Priest in <cite>Don Quixote</cite> decided that it should "be preserved as if it came from -Apollo himself": see vol. iii. of the present edition (Glasgow, 1901), p. 51. It is -unquestionably a work of unusual merit in its kind, but some deduction must be -made from Cervantes's hyperbolical praise: he evidently succumbed to the temptation -of playing on the words Polo and Apollo. -</p> -<p> -Gaspar Gil Polo is said by Ticknor to have been professor of Greek at Valencia. -There was a Gil Polo who held the Greek chair in the University of that city -between 1566 and 1574: but his name was not Gaspar. Nicolás Antonio and -others maintain that the author of the <cite>Diana enamorada</cite> was the celebrated -lawyer, Gaspar Gil Polo, who appeared to plead before the Cortes in 1626. This -Gaspar Gil Polo was a mere boy when the <cite>Diana enamorada</cite> was issued sixty-two -years earlier. He was probably the son of the author: see Justo Pastor -Fuster, <cite>Biblioteca Valenciana de las escritores que florecieron hasta nuestros -días</cite> (Valencia, 1827-1830), vol. i., pp. 150-155, and—more especially—Professor -Hugo Albert Rennert, <cite>The Spanish Pastoral Romances</cite> (Baltimore, 1892), p. 31. -</p> -<p> -As already stated in note 91, Gil Polo contributed a sonnet to Girón y de -Rebolledo's <cite>Pasión</cite>, which appeared a year before the <cite>Diana enamorada</cite>. -Another of his sonnets is found in Sempere's <cite>Carolea</cite> (1560). In the <cite>Serao de -Amor</cite>, Timoneda speaks of him as a celebrated poet; but, as we see from the -<cite>Canto de Calíope</cite> itself, these flourishes and compliments often mean next to -nothing. It is somewhat strange that Gil Polo, who is said to have died at -Barcelona in 1591, did not issue a sequel to his <cite>Diana enamorada</cite> during the -twenty-seven years of life which remained to him after the publication of the -First Part in 1564. At the end of the <cite>Diana enamorada</cite> he promised a Second -Part as clearly as Cervantes, after him, promised a Second Part of the <cite>Galatea</cite>: -"Las quales (fiestas) ... y otras cosas de gusto y de provecho están tratadas en -la otra parte deste libro, que antes de muchos días, placiendo á Dios, será -impresa." Gil Polo is believed to have been absorbed by his official duties as -Maestre Racional of the Royal Court in the Kingdom of Valencia. His <cite>Canto -del Turia</cite>, inserted in the third book of the <cite>Diana enamorada</cite>, is one of the -models—perhaps the chief model—of the present <cite>Canto de Calíope</cite>. Cervantes -follows Gil Polo very closely.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_212" href="#FNanchor_212" class="label">[212]</a> The dramatist, Cristóbal de Virués, was born in 1550 and died in 1610. Like -Cervantes and Artieda, he fought at Lepanto. His <cite>Obras trágicas y líricas</cite> -(Madrid, 1609) are more interesting than his somewhat repulsive <cite>Historia del -Monserrate</cite> (Madrid, 1587-1588) which Cervantes praises beyond measure: see -note 2.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_213" href="#FNanchor_213" class="label">[213]</a> I have failed to find any example of Silvestre de Espinosa's work.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_214" href="#FNanchor_214" class="label">[214]</a> García Romeo (the name is sometimes given as García Romero) appears to -have escaped all the bibliographers.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_215" href="#FNanchor_215" class="label">[215]</a> <cite>Romero</cite> in Spanish means <em>rosemary</em>. A. B. W.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_216" href="#FNanchor_216" class="label">[216]</a> The Jeromite monk, Pedro de Huete, contributed a sonnet to the <cite>Versos -espirituales</cite> (Cuenca, 1597) of the Dominican friar, Pedro de Encinas.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_217" href="#FNanchor_217" class="label">[217]</a> Pedro de Láinez joined with Cervantes in writing eulogistic verses for -Padilla's <cite>Jardín espiritual</cite>: see note 27. Examples of his skill are given in -Pedro Espinosa's <cite>Flores de poetas ilustres de España</cite> (1605). Fernández de -Navarrete, in his biography of Cervantes, states (p. 116) that Láinez died in 1605: -he is warmly praised by Lope de Vega in the <cite>Laurel de Apolo</cite> (silva iv.). -</p> -<p> -His widow, Juana Gaitán, lived at Valladolid in the same house as Cervantes -and his family: she is mentioned, not greatly to her credit, in the depositions -of some of the witnesses examined with reference to the death of Gaspar -de Ezpeleta; but too much importance may easily be given to this tittle-tattle. -Luisa de Montoya, a very respectable widow, corroborated the evidence of other -witnesses who assert that the neighbours gossiped concerning the visits paid -to Láinez's widow by the Duque de Pastrana and the Conde de Concentaina—"que -venian a tratar de un libro que había compuesto un fulano Laynez, su -primer marido."</p> - -<p>The contemptuous phrase—<cite>un fulano Laynez</cite>—would imply that Luisa de -Montoya was not a person of literary tastes: she was, however, widow of the -chronicler, Esteban de Garibay Zamalloa, author of the <cite>Ilustraciones genealogicas -de los catholicos reyes de las Españas, y de los christianissimos de Francia, -y de los Emperadores de Constantinopla, hasta el Catholico Rey nuestro -Señor Don Philipe el II y sus serenissimos hijos</cite> (Madrid, 1596). The words—<i lang="es" xml:lang="es">su -primer marido</i>—which are likewise used by another witness (Cervantes's -niece, Costanza de Ovando), might be taken, if construed literally, to mean that -Láinez's widow had married again shortly after her husband's death: for the -evidence was taken on June 29, 1605. But, apparently, the inference would be -wrong. When examined in jail, to which she was committed with Cervantes and -others, Juana Gaitán described herself as over thirty-five years of age, and as the -widow of the late Pedro Láinez. She accounted for Pastrana's visits, which had -given rise to scandal, by saying that she intended to dedicate to him two books -by her late husband, and that Pastrana had merely called to thank her in due -form. A reference to Pastrana in the <cite>Viaje del Parnaso</cite> (cap. viii.) seems to -suggest that Pastrana was a munificent patron:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container2 pw20"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Desde allí, y no sé cómo, fuí traído</span><br /> -Adonde ví al gran Duque de Pastrana<br /> -Mil parabienes dar de bien venido;<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Y que la fama en la verdad ufana</span><br /> -Contaba que agradó con su presencia,<br /> -Y con su cortesía sobrehumana:<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Que fué nuevo Alejandro en la excelencia</span><br /> -Del dar, que satisfizo á todo cuanto<br /> -Puede mostrar real magnificencia.</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<p>It is a little unlucky that these works by Láinez, concerning the publication of -which the author's zealous widow consulted Pastrana, should not after all have -found their way into print. For details of the evidence in the Ezpeleta case, -see Dr. Pérez Pastor's <cite>Documentos Cervantinos hasta ahora inéditos</cite> (Madrid, -1902), vol. ii., pp. 455-527.</p></div> - - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_218" href="#FNanchor_218" class="label">[218]</a> Francisco de Figueroa, <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">el Divino</i>, was born at Alcalá de Henares in 1536 -and is conjectured to have died as late as 1620. Very little is known of this -distinguished poet. He is said to have served as a soldier in Italy where his -verses won him so high a reputation that he was compared to Petrarch. He -married Doña María de Vargas on February 14, 1575, at Alcalá de Henares, and -travelled with the Duque de Terranova through the Low Countries in 1597. -After this date he disappears. He is stated to have died at Lisbon, and to have -directed that all his poems should be burned. Such of them as were saved were -published at Lisbon in 1626 by Luis Tribaldos de Toledo. As noted in the <cite>Introduction</cite> -(p. xxxi. <em>n.</em> 2) to the present version, Figueroa is the Tirsi of the <cite>Galatea</cite>. -There is a strong family likeness between the poems of Figueroa and those of the -Bachiller Francisco de la Torre, whose verses were issued by Quevedo in 1631. -So marked is this resemblance that, as M. Ernest Mérimée has written:—"Un -critique, que le paradoxe n'effraierait point, pourrait, sans trop de peine, soutenir -l'identité de Francisco de la Torre et de Francisco de Figueroa." See his -admirable <cite>Essai sur la vie et les œuvres de Francisco de Quevedo</cite> (Paris, 1886), -p. 324.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_219" href="#FNanchor_219" class="label">[219]</a> <cite>Brasa</cite>, f., means red-hot coal. The word for 'charcoal' is <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">carbón</i>, m.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_220" href="#FNanchor_220" class="label">[220]</a> The Spanish for 'letter' is <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">carta</i>, f.; for a 'pack of cards' <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">pliego de -cartas</i>, m.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a id="Footnote_221" href="#FNanchor_221" class="label">[221]</a> i.e. a riddle. The Spanish is <i lang="es" xml:lang="es">¿qué es cosa y cosa?</i> a phrase equivalent to our -'What may this pretty thing be?'</p></div></div> -</div> - - -<p class="center p2"><small>END OF GALATEA.</small></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center p4">GLASGOW: PRINTED AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS BY ROBERT MACLEHOSE AND CO.</p> -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Galatea, by Miguel Cervantes Saavedra - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GALATEA *** - -***** This file should be named 63404-h.htm or 63404-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/4/0/63404/ - -Produced by Andrés V. 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