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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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