Four Plays of Gil Vicente

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 28399 *** TRANSCRIPTION NOTES: * the English translation was placed after the Portuguese text (it was originally side by side with the Portuguese text) * critical edition notes were placed after the Portuguese text * critical notes which refer to the play's introduction, before the line numbering, were labelled '0.' * ^ is used for superscript. ❧ COPILACAM DE TODALAS OBRAS DE GIL VICENTE, A QVAL SE REPARTE EM CINCO LIVROS O PRIMEYRO HE DE TODAS suas cousas de deuaçam. O segundo as comedias. O terceyro as tragicomedias. No quarto as farsas. No quinto as obras meudas. [Illustration] ¶ Empremiose em a muy nobre & sempre leal cidade de Lixboa em casa de Ioam Aluarez impressor del Rey nosso senhor Anno de M D LXII ¶ Foy visto polos deputados da Sancta Inquisiçam. COM PRIVILEGIO REAL. (⁂) ¶ Vendem se a cruzado em papel em casa de Francisco fernandez na rua noua. TITLE-PAGE OF THE FIRST (1562) EDITION OF GIL VICENTE'S WORKS FOUR PLAYS OF GIL VICENTE Edited from the _editio princeps_ (1562), with Translation and Notes, by AUBREY F. G. BELL Θαρρε̂ιν χρ̀η τ̀ον κὰι σμικρόν τι δυνάμεηοη ἐις τ̀ο πρόσθεν ̓αὲι προϊέναι. PLATO, _Sophistes_. CAMBRIDGE AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS 1920 KRAUS REPRINT CO. New York 1969 TO ALL THOSE WHO HAVE LABOURED IN THE VICENTIAN VINEYARD LC 24-15201 _First Published 1920_ _Reprinted by permission of the Cambridge University Press_ KRAUS REPRINT CO. A U. S. Division of Kraus-Thomson Organization Limited Printed in U. S. A. PREFACE Gil Vicente, that sovereign genius[1], is too popular and indigenous for translation and this may account for the fact that he has not been presented to English readers. It is hoped, however, that a fairly accurate version, with the text in view[2], may give some idea of his genius. The religious, the patriotic-imperial, the satirical and the pastoral sides of his drama are represented respectively by the _Auto da Alma_, the _Exhortação_, the _Almocreves_ and the _Serra da Estrella_, while his lyrical vein is seen in the _Auto da Alma_ and in two delightful songs: the _serranilha_ of the _Almocreves_ and the _cossante_ of the _Serra da Estrella_. Many of his plays, including some of the most charming of his lyrics, were written in Spanish and this limited the choice from the point of view of Portuguese literature, but there are others of the Portuguese plays fully as well worth reading as the four here given. The text is that of the exceedingly rare first edition (1562). Apart from accents and punctuation, it is reproduced without alteration, unless a passage is marked by an asterisk, when the text of the _editio princeps_ will be found in the foot-notes, in which variants of other editions are also given. In these notes A represents the _editio princeps_ (1562): _Copilaçam de todalas obras de Gil Vicente, a qual se reparte em cinco livros. O primeyro he de todas suas cousas de deuaçam. O segundo as comedias. O terceyro as tragicomedias. No quarto as farsas. No quinto as obras meudas. Empremiose em a muy nobre & sempre leal cidade de Lixboa em casa de Ioam Aluarez impressor del Rey nosso senhor. Anno de MDLXII_. The second (1586) edition (B) is the _Copilaçam de todalas obras de Gil Vicente... Lixboa, por Andres Lobato, Anno de MDLXXXVJ_. A third edition in three volumes appeared in 1834 (C): _Obras de Gil Vicente, correctas e emendadas pelo cuidado e diligencia de J. V. Barreto Feio e J. G. Monteiro_. Hamburgo, 1834. This was based, although not always with scrupulous accuracy, on the _editio princeps_, and subsequent editions have faithfully adhered to that of 1834: _Obras_, 3 vol. Lisboa, 1852 (D), and _Obras_, ed. Mendes dos Remedios, 3 vol. Coimbra, 1907, 12, 14 [_Subsidios_, vol. 11, 15, 17][3] (E). Although there has been a tendency of late to multiply editions of Gil Vicente, no attempt has been made to produce a critical edition. It is generally felt that that must be left to the master hand of Dona Carolina Michaëlis de Vasconcellos[4]. Since the plays of Vicente number over forty the present volume is only a tentative step in this direction, but it may serve to show the need of referring to, and occasionally emending, the _editio princeps_ in any future edition of the most national poet of Portugal[5]. AUBREY F. G. BELL. _8 April 1920._ FOOTNOTES: [1] _Este soberano ingenio._ Marcelino Menéndez y Pelayo, _Antologia_, tom. 7, p. clxiii. [2] Although the text has been given without alteration it has not been thought necessary to provide a precise rendering of the coarser passages. [3] The Paris 1843 edition is the Hamburg 1834 edition with a different title-page. The _Auto da Alma_ was published separately at Lisbon in 1902 and again (in part) in _Autos de Gil Vicente. Compilação e prefacio de Affonso Lopes Vieira_, Porto, 1916; while extracts appeared in _Portugal. An Anthology, edited with English versions, by George Young_. Oxford, 1916. The present text and translation are reprinted, by permission of the Editor, from _The Modern Language Review_. [4] I understand that the eminent philologist Dr José Leite de Vasconcellos is also preparing an edition. [5] Facsimiles of the title-pages of the two early editions of Vicente's works are reproduced here through the courtesy of Senhor Anselmo Braamcamp Freire. CONTENTS PAGE PREFACE v INTRODUCTION ix AUTO DA ALMA (THE SOUL'S JOURNEY) 1 EXHORTAÇAO DA GUERRA (EXHORTATION TO WAR) 23 FARSA DOS ALMOCREVES (THE CARRIERS) 37 TRAGICOMEDIA PASTORIL DA SERRA DA ESTRELLA 55 NOTES 73 LIST OF PROVERBS IN GIL VICENTE'S WORKS 84 BIBLIOGRAPHY OF GIL VICENTE 86 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF GIL VICENTE'S LIFE AND WORKS 89 INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLACES 95 * * * * * FACSIMILE OF TITLE-PAGE OF THE FIRST EDITION (1562) OF GIL VICENTE'S WORKS _Frontispiece_ FACSIMILE OF TITLE-PAGE OF THE SECOND EDITION (1586) _page_ lii INTRODUCTION I. LIFE AND PLAYS OF GIL VICENTE Those who read the voluminous song-book edited by jolly Garcia de Resende in 1516 are astonished at its narrowness and aridity. There is scarcely a breath of poetry or of Nature in these Court verses. In the pages of Gil Vicente[6], who had begun to write fourteen years before the _Cancioneiro Geral_ was published, the Court is still present, yet the atmosphere is totally different. There are many passages in his plays which correspond to the conventional love-poems of the courtiers and he maintains the personal satire to be found both in the _Cancioneiro da Vaticana_ and the _Cancioneiro de Resende_. But he is also a child of Nature, with a marvellous lyrical gift and the insight to revive and renew the genuine poetry which had existed in Galicia and the north of Portugal before the advent of the Provençal love-poetry, had sprung into a splendid harvest in rivalry with that poetry and died down under the Spanish influence of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. He was moreover a national and imperial poet, embracing the whole of Portuguese life and the whole rapidly growing Portuguese empire. We can only account for the difference by saying that Gil Vicente was a genius, the only great genius of that day in Portugal, and the most gifted poet of his time. It is therefore all the more tantalizing that we should know so little about him. A few documents recently unearthed, one or two scanty references by contemporary or later authors, are all the information we have apart from that which may be gleaned from the rubrics and colophons of his plays and from the plays themselves. The labours of Dona Carolina Michaëlis de Vasconcellos, Dr José Leite de Vasconcellos[7] and Snr Anselmo Braamcamp Freire are likely to provide us before long with the first critical edition of his plays. The ingenious suppositions of Dr Theophilo Braga[8] have, as usual, led to much discussion and research. He is the Mofina Mendes of critics, putting forward a hypothesis, translating it a few pages further on into a certainty and building rapidly on these foundations till an argument adduced or a document discovered by another critic brings the whole edifice toppling to the ground. The documents brought to light by General Brito Rebello[9] and Senhor Anselmo Braamcamp Freire[10] enable us to construct a sketch of Gil Vicente's life, while D. Carolina Michaëlis has shed a flood of light upon certain points[11]. The chronological table at the end of this volume is founded mainly, as to the order of the plays, on the documents and arguments recently set forth by one of the most distinguished of modern historical critics, Senhor Anselmo Braamcamp Freire. The plays, read in this order, throw a certain amount of new light on Gil Vicente's life and give it a new cohesion. Whether we consider it from the point of view of his own country or of the world, or of literature, art and science, his life coincides with one of the most wonderful periods in the world's history. At his birth Portugal was a sturdy mediaeval country, proud of her traditions and heroic past. Her heroes were so national as scarcely to be known beyond her own borders. Nun' Alvarez (1360-1431), one of the greatest men of all time, is even now unknown to Europe. And Portugal herself as yet hardly appraised at its true worth the life and work of Prince Henry the Navigator (1394-1460), at whose incentive she was still groping persistently along the western coast of Africa. His nephew Afonso V, the amiable grandson of Nun' Alvarez' friend, the Master of Avis, and the English princess Philippa of Lancaster, daughter of John of Gaunt, was on the throne, to be succeeded by his stern and resolute son João II in 1481. In his boyhood, spent in the country, somewhere in the green hills of Minho or the rugged grandeur and bare, flowered steeps of the Serra da Estrella, all _ossos e burel_[12], Gil Vicente might hear dramatic stories of the doings at the capital and Court, of the beginning of the new reign, of the beheadal of the Duke of Braganza in the Rocio of Evora, of the stabbing by the King's own hand of his cousin and brother-in-law, the young Duke of Viseu, of the baptism and death at Lisbon of a native prince from Guinea. The place of his birth is not certain. Biographers have hesitated between Lisbon, Guimarães and Barcellos: perhaps he was not born in any of these towns but in some small village of the north of Portugal. We can at least say that he was not brought up at Lisbon. The proof is his knowledge and love of Nature and his intimate acquaintance with the ways of villagers, their character, customs, amusements, dances, songs and language. It is legitimate to draw certain inferences--provided we do not attach too great importance to them--from his plays, especially since we know that he himself staged them and acted in them[13]. His earliest compositions are especially personal and we may be quite sure that the parts of the herdsman in the _Visitaçam_ (1502) and of the mystically inclined shepherd, Gil Terron, in the _Auto Pastoril Castelhano_ (1502) and the _rustico pastor_ in the _Auto dos Reis Magos_ (1503) were played by Vicente himself. It is therefore well to note the passage in which Silvestre and Bras express surprise at Gil's learning: _S._ Mudando vas la pelleja, Sabes de achaque de igreja! _G._ Ahora lo deprendi.... _B._ Quien te viese no dirá Que naciste en serranía. _G._ Dios hace estas maravillas. It is possible that Gil Vicente, like Gil Terron, had been born _en serranía_. Dr Leite de Vasconcellos was the first to call attention to his special knowledge of the province of Beira, and the reference to the Serra da Estrella dragged into the _Comedia do Viuvo_ is of even more significance than the conventional _beirão_ talk of his peasants. Nor is the learning in his plays such as to give a moment's support to the theory that he had, like Enzina, received a university education, or, as some, relying on an unreliable _nobiliario_, have held, was tutor (_mestre de rhetorica_) to Prince, afterwards King, Manuel. The King, according to Damião de Goes, 'knew enough Latin to judge of its style.' Probably he did not know much more of it than Gil Vicente himself. His first productions are without the least pretension to learning: they are close imitations of Enzina's eclogues. Later his outlook widened; he read voraciously[14] and seems to have pounced on any new publication that came to the palace, among them the works of two slightly later Spanish playwrights, Lucas Fernández and Bartolomé de Torres Naharro. With the quickness of genius and spurred forward by the malicious criticism of his audience, their love of new things and the growing opposition of the introducers of the new style from Italy, he picked up a little French and Italian, while Church Latin and law Latin early began to creep into his plays. The parade of erudition (which is also a satire on pedants) at the beginning of the _Auto da Mofina Mendes_ is, however, that of a comparatively uneducated man in a library, of rustic Gil Vicente in the palace. Rather we would believe that he spent his early life in peasant surroundings, perhaps actually keeping goats in the scented hills like his Prince of Wales, Dom Duardos: _De mozo guardé ganado_, and then becoming an apprentice in the goldsmith's art, perhaps to his father or uncle, Martim Vicente, at Guimarães. It is extremely probable that he was drawn to the Court, then at Evora, for the first time in 1490 by the unprecedented festivities in honour of the wedding of the Crown Prince and Isabel, daughter of the Catholic Kings, and was one of the many goldsmiths who came thither on that occasion[15]. If that was so, his work may have at once attracted the attention of King João II, who, as Garcia de Resende tells us, keenly encouraged the talents of the young men in his service, and the protection of his wife, Queen Lianor. He may have been about 25 years old at the time. The date of his birth has become a fascinating problem, over which many critics have argued and disagreed. As to the exact year it is best frankly to confess our ignorance. The information is so flimsy and conflicting as to make the acutest critics waver. While a perfectly unwarranted importance has been given to a passage in Vicente's last _comedia_, the _Floresta de Enganos_ (1536), in which a judge declares that he is 66 (therefore Gil Vicente was born in 1470), sufficient stress has perhaps not been laid on the lines in the play from the Conde de Sabugosa's library, the _Auto da Festa_, in which Gil Vicente is declared to be 'very stout and over 60.' This cannot be dismissed like the former passage, for it is evidently a personal reference to Gil Vicente. It was the comedian's ambition to raise a laugh in his audience and this might be effected by saying the exact opposite of what the audience knew to be true: e.g. to speak of Gil Vicente as very stout and over 60 if he was very young and spectre-thin. But Vicente was certainly not very young when this play was written and we may doubt whether the victim of _calentura_ and hater of heat (he treats summer scurvily in his _Auto dos Quatro Tempos_) was thin. We have to accept the fact that he was over 60 when the _Auto da Festa_ was written. But when was it written? Its editor, the Conde de Sabugosa, to whom all Vicente lovers owe so deep a debt of gratitude[16], assigned it to 1535, while Senhor Braamcamp Freire, who uses Vicente's age as a double-edged weapon[17], places it twenty years earlier, in 1515. This was indeed necessary if the year 1452 was to be maintained as the date of his birth. The theory of the exact date 1452 was due to another passage of the plays: the old man in _O Velho da Horta_, formerly assigned to 1512, is 60 (III. 75). Yet there is something slightly comical in stout old Gil Vicente beginning his actor's career at the age of 50 and keeping it up till he was 86. Other facts that may throw light on his age are as follows: in 1502 he almost certainly acted the boisterous part of _vaqueiro_ in the _Visitaçam_[18]. In 1512 he is over 40 and married (inference from his appointment as one of the 24 representatives of Lisbon guilds in that year). In 1512 a 'son of Gil Vicente' is in India. His son Belchior is a small boy in 1518. In 1515 he received a sum of money to enable his sister Felipa Borges to marry. In 1531 he declares himself to be 'near death'[19], although evidently not ill at the time. He died very probably at the end of 1536 or beginning of 1537[20]. Accepting the fact that the _Auto da Festa_ was written before the _Templo de Apolo_ (1526) I would place it as late as possible, i.e. in the year 1525, and subtracting 60 believe that the date _c._ 1465 for Gil Vicente's birth will be found to agree best with the various facts given above. The wedding of the Crown Prince of Portugal and the Infanta Isabel was celebrated most gorgeously at Evora. The Court gleamed with plate and jewellery[21]. There were banquets and tournaments, _ricos momos_ and _singulares antremeses_, pantomimes or interludes produced with great splendour--e.g. a sailing ship moved on the stage over what appeared to be waves of the sea, a band of twenty pilgrims advanced with gilt staffs, etc., etc.--all the luxurious show which had made the _entremeses_ of Portugal famous and from which Vicente must have taken many an idea for the staging of his plays. Next year the tragic death of the young prince, still in his teens, owing to a fall from his horse at Santarem, turned all the joy to ashes. Gil Vicente was certainly not less impressed than Luis Anriquez, who laments the death of Prince Afonso in the _Cancioneiro Geral_, or Juan del Enzina, who made it the subject of his version or paraphrase of Virgil's 5th eclogue. Vicente's acquaintance with Enzina's works may date from this period, although we need not press Enzina's words _yo vi_ too literally to mean that he was actually present at the Portuguese Court. Vicente may have accompanied the King and Queen to Lisbon in October of this year, but for the next ten years we know as much of his life as for the preceding twenty, that is to say, we know nothing at all. The only reference to his sojourn at the Court of King João II occurs in the mouth of Gil Terron (I, 9): ¿Conociste a Juan domado Que era pastor de pastores? Yo lo vi entre estas flores Con gran hato de ganado Con su cayado real. A note in the _editio princeps_ declares the reference to be to King João II. If we read _domado_ it can only be applied to the indomitable João II in the sense of having yielded to the will of Queen Lianor in acknowledging as heir her brother Manuel in preference to his illegitimate son Jorge. Perhaps however it is best to read _damado_, which recurs in the same play. Perhaps we may even see in the passage an allusion merely to an incident occurring in the time of João II and not to the King himself[22]. We may surmise that about this time, perhaps as early as 1490, Vicente became goldsmith to Queen Lianor. The events of this wonderful decade must have moved him profoundly, events sufficient to stir even a dullard's imagination as new world after new world swept into his ken: the conquest of Granada from the Moors in 1492, the arrival of Columbus at Lisbon from America in 1493, the similar return of Vasco da Gama six years later from India, the discovery of Brazil in 1500. Two years later Vicente emerges into the light of day. King Manuel had succeeded to the throne on the death of King João (25 Oct. 1495) and had married the princess Maria, daughter of the Catholic Kings. Their eldest son, João, who was to rule Portugal as King João III from 1521 to 1557, was born on June 6, 1502, on which day a great storm swept over Lisbon. On the following evening[23] or on the evening of June 8 Gil Vicente, dressed as a herdsman, broke into the Queen's chamber in the presence of the Queen, King Manuel, his mother Dona Beatriz, his sister Queen Lianor, who was one of the prince's godmothers, and others, and recited in Spanish a brief monologue of 114 lines. Having expressed rustic wonder at the splendour of the palace and the universal joy at the birth of an heir to the throne he calls in some thirty companions to offer their humble gifts of eggs, milk, curds, cheese and honey. Queen Lianor was so pleased with this 'new thing'--for hitherto there had been no literary entertainments to vary either the profane _serãos de dansas e bailos_ or the religious solemnities of the court--that she wished Vicente to repeat the performance at Christmas. He preferred, however, to compose a new _auto_ more suitable to the occasion and duly produced the _Auto Pastoril Castelhano_. King Manuel had just returned to Lisbon from a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela in Galicia in thanksgiving for the discovery of the sea-route to India. He found the Queen in the palace of Santos o Velho and was received _com muita alegria_. But no allusion to great contemporary events troubles the rustic peace of this _auto_, which is some four times as long as the _Visitaçam_, and which introduces several simple shepherds to whom the Angel announces the birth of the Redeemer. Queen Lianor was delighted (_muito satisfeita_) and a few days later, on the Day of Kings (6 Jan. 1503), a third pastoral play, the _Auto dos Reis Magos_, was acted, the introduction of a knight and a hermit giving it a greater variety. The _Auto da Sibila Cassandra_ has been assigned to the same year, and the _Auto dos Quatro Tempos_ and _Quem tem farelos?_ to 1505, but there are good reasons for giving them a later date. The only play that can be confidently asserted to have been produced by Vicente between January 1503 and the end of 1508 is the brief dialogue between the beggar and St Martin: the _Auto de S. Martinho_, in ten Spanish verses _de rima cuadrada_, recited before Queen Lianor in the Caldas church during the Corpus Christi procession of 1504. The reasons for this silence are not far to seek. In September 1503, Dom Vasco da Gama returned from his second voyage to India with the first tribute of gold: 'The lords and nobles who were then at Court went to visit him on his ship and accompanied him to the palace. A page went before him bearing in a bason the 2000 _miticaes_ of gold of the tribute of the King of Quiloa and the agreement made with him and the Kings of Cananor and Cochin. Of this gold King Manuel ordered a monstrance to be wrought for the service of the altar, adorned with precious stones, and commanded that it should be presented to the Convent of Bethlehem[24].' At this monstrance, still the pride of Portuguese art, Gil Vicente worked during three years (1503-6). He was perhaps already living in the Lisbon house in the _Rua de Jerusalem_ assigned to him by his patroness, Queen Lianor[25]. There were other reasons for his silence. The death of Queen Isabella of Spain in 1504 and again the death of King Manuel's mother, Dona Beatriz, in 1506, threw the Portuguese Court into mourning. Plague and famine raged at Lisbon from 1505 to 1507, while, after the awful massacre of Jews at Easter 1506, during which some thousands were stabbed or burnt to death, the city of Lisbon was placed under an interdict which was not raised till 1508. Let us take advantage of Vicente's long silence to explain why it can be asserted so confidently that he was now at work on the Belem _custodia_. The burden of producing some definite document to show that Gil Vicente the poet and Gil Vicente the goldsmith were two different persons rests on the opponents of identity. The late Marcelino Menéndez y Pelayo, whose death in 1912 was a great blow to Portuguese as well as to Spanish literature, would certainly have changed his view if he had lived. In his brilliant study of Gil Vicente, a 'sovereign genius,' 'the most national playwright before Lope de Vega[26],' 'the greatest figure of our primitive theatre[27],' he remarked that if Vicente had been a goldsmith and one of such skill he must infallibly have left some trace of it in his dramatic works and that the contemporaries who mention him would not have preserved a profound silence as to his artistic talent[28]; yet Menéndez y Pelayo himself speaks of Vicente's _alma de artista_[29] and of the plastic character which the most fantastic allegorical figures receive at his hands[30]. If we were assured that the dreamy Bernardim Ribeiro had fashioned the Belem monstrance we might well remain sceptical, but Vicente stands out from among the vaguer poets of Portugal in having, like Garcia de Resende, an extremely definite style, and his imagination, as in his dream of fair women in the _Templo de Apolo_, coins concrete figures, not intellectual abstractions. Resende, we know, was a skilled draughtsman as well as poet, chronicler and musician, and it is curious that the very phrase applied by Vicente to Resende, _de tudo entende_ (II, 406), is used of Vicente himself in an anecdote quoted by Senhor Braamcamp Freire. As to his own silence and that of his contemporaries, their silence[31] concerning the presence of two Gil Vicentes at Court would be quite as astonishing, especially as they distinguish between other homonyms of the time, and the silent satellite dogged the poet Vicente's steps with the strangest persistence. According to the discoveries or inventions of the Visconde Sanches de Baena[32] he was the poet's uncle; according to Dr Theophilo Braga they were cousins[33]. The poet, as many passages in his plays show, was interested in the goldsmith's art[34]; the goldsmith wrote verses[35]. The poet made his first appearance in 1502, the artist in 1503. Splendid as was the Portuguese Court and although its members had almost doubled in number in less than a century[36], the King did not keep men there merely on the chance of their producing 'a new thing.' The sovereign of a great and growing empire had something better to do than to indulge in forecasts as to the potential talents of his subjects. When Gil Vicente in 1502 produced a new thing in Portugal his presence in the palace can only be explained by his having an employment there, and since we know that Queen Lianor had a goldsmith called Gil Vicente who wrote verses and since the poet wrote all his earlier plays for Queen Lianor[37], it is rational to suppose that this employment was that of goldsmith to the Queen-Dowager. His presence at Court was certainly not by right of birth: Vicente was not a 'gentleman of good family,' as Ticknor and others have supposed, but the noble art of the goldsmith (its practice was forbidden in the following century to slaves and negroes) would enable him to associate familiarly with the courtiers. In 1509 or later[38] the poet joined, at the request of Queen Lianor, in a poetical contest concerning a gold chain, in which another poet, addressing Vicente, refers especially to necklaces and jewels. In the same year Gil Vicente is appointed overseer of works of gold and silver at the Convent of the Order of Christ, Thomar, the Hospital of All Saints, Lisbon, and the Convent of Belem. At the Hospital of All Saints the poet staged one of his plays. To Thomar and its fevers he refers more than once and presented the _Farsa de Ines Pereira_ there in 1523. In 1513 he is appointed _Mestre da Balança_, in 1517 he resigns and in 1521 the poet alludes to the goldsmith's former colleagues: _os da Moeda_, while his production as playwright increases after the resignation and his complaints of poverty become more frequent[39]. In 1520 Gil Vicente the goldsmith is entrusted by King Manuel with the preparations for the royal entry into Lisbon, an _auto_ figuring in the programme. If there was nothing new in a goldsmith writing verses the drama of Vicente was an innovation and João de Barros would quite naturally refer (as André de Resende before him) to the poet-goldsmith as _Gil Vicente comico_. On the other hand there is an almost brutal egoism in the silence concerning his unfortunate uncle (or cousin) maintained by Gil Vicente, who refers to himself as poet more than once, with evident pride in his _autos_. Recently General Brito Rebello (1830-1920), whose researches helped to give shape and substance to Gil Vicente's life, discovered a document of 1535 in which the poet's signature differs notably from that of the goldsmith in 1515[40]. It is, however, possible to maintain that the former signature is not that of Gil Vicente at all and that the words of the document _per seu filho Belchior Vicente_ mean that Belchior signed in his father's name; or, alternatively, we can only say that Gil Vicente's handwriting had changed, a change especially frequent in artists. To those who examine all the evidence impartially there can remain very little doubt that Gil Vicente was first known at Court for his skill as goldsmith, and that he began writing verses and plays at the suggestion of his patroness, Queen Lianor. On March 3, 1506, Vicente momentarily resumed his literary character and composed for Queen Lianor a long lay sermon, spoken before the King on the occasion of the birth of the Infante Luis (1506-55), who was himself a poet and the friend and patron of men of letters. The envious feared that Vicente was playing too many parts and contended that this was no time for a sermon by a layman, but Vicente excused himself with the saying, commonly attributed to Garci Sanchez de Badajoz, that if they would permit him to play the fool this once he would leave it to them for the rest of their lives, and launched into the exposition of his text: _Non volo, volo et deficior_. His next play _Quem tem farelos?_ is assigned by Senhor Braamcamp Freire to December 1508 or January 1509[41]. The reference to the _embate_ in Africa in all probability alludes to the siege of Arzila in 1508. King Manuel had made preparations to set sail for an African campaign in 1501 and 1503, but the word _embate_ implies something more definite. The later date (it was formerly assigned to 1505) is more suitable to the finished art of this first farce and to the fact that its success--so great that the people gave it the name by which it is still known, i.e. the first three words of the play--would be likely to cause its author to produce another farce without delay. Its successor, the _Auto da India_, acted before Queen Lianor at Almada in 1509, has not the same unity and its action begins in 1506 and ends in 1509. It displays a broader outlook and the influence of the discovery of India on the home-life of Portugal. In 1509 the fleet sailed from Lisbon under Marshal Coutinho on March 12 and _Maio_ (III. 28) might be a misprint for _Março_; the _partida_ alluded to, however, is that of Tristão da Cunha and Afonso de Albuquerque in 1506. It is just possible that _Quem tem farelos?_ was begun in 1505 (the date of its rubric) and the _Auto da India_ in 1506. Early in this year 1509 (Feb. 15) Vicente received the appointment of _Vedor_ and at Christmas of the following year he produced a play at Almeirim, a favourite residence of King Manuel, who spent a part of most winters there in the pleasures of the chase[42]. This _Auto da Fé_ is but a simple conversation between Faith and two peasants, who marvel at the richness of the Royal Chapel. In 1511, perhaps at Carnival[43], the _Auto das Fadas_ further shows the expansion, perhaps we may say the warping, of his natural genius, for although we may rejoice in the presentation of the witch Genebra Pereira, the play soon turns aside to satirical allusions to courtiers, while the Devil gabbles in picardese. Peasants' _beirão_ with a few scraps of biblical Latin had hitherto been Vicente's only theatrical resource as regards language. The _Farsa dos Fisicos_ is now[44] assigned to 1512, early in the year. It is leap year (III. 317) and Senhor Braamcamp Freire sees in the lines (III. 323): Voyme a la huerta de amores Y traeré una ensalada Por Gil Vicente guisada Y diz que otra de mas flores Para Pascoa tien sembrada a reference to _O Velho da Horta_, acted before King Manuel in 1512. In August of the following year James, Duke of Braganza, set sail from Lisbon with a fleet of 450 ships to conquer Azamor: Foi hũa das cousas mais para notar Que vimos nem vio a gente passada[45]. Gil Vicente was in the most successful period of his life. In December 1512 he was chosen by the Guild of Goldsmiths to be one of the twenty-four Lisbon guild representatives and some months later he was selected by the twenty-four to be one of their four proctors, with a seat in the Lisbon Town Council. On February 4, 1513, he had become Master of the Lisbon Mint. For the departure of the fleet against Azamor he comes forward as the poet laureate of the nation and vehemently inveighs against sloth and luxury while he sings a hymn to the glories of Portugal. The play alludes to the gifts sent to the Pope in the following year and this probably led to the date of the rubric (1514), but it also refers to the royal marriages of 1521, 1525 and 1530, and we may thus assume that it was written in 1513 and touched up for a later production or for the collection of Vicente's plays. Perhaps at Christmas of this year was acted before Queen Lianor in the Convent of Enxobregas at Lisbon the _Auto da Sibila Cassandra_, hitherto placed ten years earlier. Senhor Braamcamp Freire points out that the Convent was only founded in 1509[46]. A scarcely less cogent argument for the later date is the finish of the verse and the exquisiteness of the lyrics, although the action is simple and the reminiscences of Enzina are many[47] (a fact which does not necessarily imply an early date: Enzina's echo verses are imitated in the _Comedia de Rubena_, 1521). We may note that the story of Troy is running in Vicente's head as in the _Exhortação_ of 1513 (he had probably just read the _Cronica Troyana_). The last lyric, _A la guerra, caballeros_, is out of keeping with the rest of the play, but fighting in Africa was so frequent that it cannot help to determine the play's date. It is in this period (1512-14) that it is customary to place the death of Vicente's first wife Branca Bezerra, leaving him two sons, Gaspar and Belchior. She was buried at Evora with the epitaph: Aqui jaz a mui prudente Senhora Branca Becerra Mulher de Gil Vicente Feita terra. This gives the _Comedia do Viuvo_, acted in 1514, a personal note, which is emphasized by the names of the widower's daughters, Paula, the name of Gil Vicente's eldest daughter, and Melicia, the name of his second wife. In the following year private grief was merged in the growing renown of Portugal in the _Auto da Fama_, which the rubric attributes to 1510, although it alludes to the siege of Goa (1510), the capture of Malaca (1511), the victorious expedition against Azamor (1513), and the attack on Aden (1513). It was acted first before Queen Lianor and then before King Manuel at Lisbon, and we may surmise that it was written or begun when the first news of Albuquerque's successes reached Lisbon and recast in 1515. The year 1516 has also been suggested, but the death of King Ferdinand the Catholic in January of that year and the death of Albuquerque in December 1515 render this date unsuitable. Even if the play was acted at Christmas 1515, there is the ironical circumstance that, at the moment when the Court was ringing with praises of the Portuguese deeds in India, the great Governor was lying dead at Goa. The date of the _Auto dos Quatro Tempos_ is equally problematic. It was acted before King Manuel at the command of Queen Lianor in the S. Miguel Chapel of the Alcaçova palace on a Christmas morning. The name of the palace indicates the year 1505 or an earlier date[48], and it has been assigned to the year 1503 or 1504; but the superior development of the play's structure and even of its thought (e.g. I. 78), its resemblance to the _Triunfo do Inverno_ (1529), the introduction of a French song, of the gods of Greece and of a psalm similar to that in the _Auto da Mofina Mendes_ (1534)[49] and the perfection of the metre all indicate a fairly late date, while imitations of Enzina[50] are not conclusive. On the whole the intrinsic evidence counterbalances the statement of the rubric as to the Alcaçova palace and we may boldly assign this delightful piece to Christmas 1516[51], while admitting that in a rougher form it may have been presented to Queen Lianor[52] at a much earlier date. The approximate date of the next play, the _Auto da Barca do Inferno_, is certain. This first part of Vicente's remarkable trilogy of _Barcas_ was acted 'in the Queen's chamber for the consolation of the very catholic and holy Queen Dona Maria in the illness of which she died in 1517.' If we manipulate the commas so as to make the date refer to the play as well as to the Queen's death, the remedy proved fatal, for she died on March 7, but it is possible that it was acted earlier, towards the end of 1516. The subject was a gloomy one but its treatment was intended to raise many a laugh and it ends with the famous brief invocation of the Angel to the knights who had died fighting in Africa. On August 6, 1517, Vicente resigned the post of Master of the Mint in favour of Diogo Rodriguez and probably about this time he married his second wife, Melicia Rodriguez. The second and third parts of the _Barcas_ trilogy were given in 1518 and 1519, but between the first and third parts Senhor Braamcamp Freire now places the _Auto da Alma_, and his scholarly suggestion[53] is amply borne out by the maturity and perfection of this beautiful play[54] and by the likelihood that Vicente when he wrote it was acquainted with Lucas Fernández' _Auto de la Pasion_ (1514). The _Auto da Barca do Purgatorio_ was acted before Queen Lianor on Christmas morning, 1518, at the _Hospital de Todolos Santos_ (Lisbon). King Manuel had been at Lisbon in July of this year, going thence to Sintra, Collares, Torres Vedras and Almeirim, whence at the end of November he proceeded to Crato to welcome his new Queen, Dona Lianor. They returned together to Almeirim and the next months were spent there 'in great bullfights, jousts, balls and other entertainments till the beginning of Spring [May] when the King went to Evora[55].' The _Auto da Barca da Gloria_ was played before his Majesty in Holy Week, 1519, and the fact that it is in Spanish and treats not of 'low figures,' but of nobles and prelates, reveals the taste of the Court and the wish to please the young Queen. In the following year (Nov. 29, 1520) Vicente was sent from Evora to Lisbon to prepare for the entry of the King and Queen into their capital (January 1521). He seems to have worked hard in arranging and directing the festivities, and in the same year (1521) he staged both the _Comedia de Rubena_ and the _Cortes de Jupiter_. The latter is the only Vicente play of which we have a contemporary description. It was acted on the departure of the King's daughter, Beatriz, at the age of sixteen to espouse the Duke of Savoy. Her dowry, including precious stones, pearls and necklaces, was magnificent, and after brilliant rejoicings at Lisbon she embarked on a ship of a thousand tons in a fleet commanded by the Conde de Villa Nova. She was accompanied by the Archbishop of Lisbon and many nobles. On the evening of August 4, in the Ribeira palace 'in a large hall all adorned with rich tapestry of gold, well carpeted, with canopy, chairs and cushions of rich brocade, began a great ball in which the King our lord danced with the lady Infanta Duchess his daughter and the Queen our lady with the Infanta D. Isabel, and the Prince our lord and the Infante D. Luis with ladies they chose; and so all the courtiers danced who were going to Savoy and many other gentlemen and courtiers for a long space. And the dancing over, began an excellent and well devised comedy with many most natural and well adorned figures, written and acted for the marriage and departure of the Infanta; and with this very skilful and suitable play the evening ended[56].' Twenty weeks after these splendid scenes and the _alegrias d'aquelas naves tam belas_[57] the King was dead. He died (13 Dec. 1521) in the full tide of apparent prosperity. As he watched the slow funeral procession passing in the night from the palace to Belem amid 600 burning torches[58] Gil Vicente must have thought of his own altered position. King Manuel had treated his sister's goldsmith generously[59] and had personally attended the acting of many of his plays. The diversion of elephant and rhinoceros had been only a momentary backsliding, and he had sat through the whole of the _Barca da Gloria_, in which a King and an Emperor fared so lamentably at the hands of the modern Silenus. But he does not appear to have done anything to secure the poet's well-being. King Manuel's sister, Vicente's faithful patroness, was, however, still alive, and he had much to hope from the new king who had grown up along with the Vicentian drama. Vicente's first literary production had celebrated his birth, at the age of nine the prince had been given a special verse in the _Auto das Fadas_ (III. 111), at the age of twelve he had actually intervened in the acting of the _Comedia do Viuvo_ (II. 99), although his part was confined to a single sentence. Finally, in the very year of his accession, he had been represented as a second Alexander in the _Cortes de Jupiter_, and the _Comedia de Rubena_ had been acted especially for him[60]. But King João III had not the careless temperament or graceful magnificence of his father, and while he evidently trusted Vicente and showed him constant goodwill--we have the proof in the pensions received by Vicente during this reign--the favourite of one king rarely finds the same atmosphere in the _entourage_ of his successor, however friendly the king himself. Thus while João III brooded over affairs of Church and State the _detractores_ had more opportunity to attack the Court dramatist. On December 19 the new king was proclaimed at Lisbon and Vicente, placed too far away to hear what was said at the ceremony, invented verses which he placed on the lips of the various courtiers as they kissed hands (III. 358-64). It was not only the king but the times that had changed, and King Manuel died not a moment too soon if he wished not to see the reverse side of the brightly coloured tapestry of his reign. Vicente ends his verses with the significant words: Diria o povo em geral: Bonança nos seja dada, Que a tormenta passada Foi tanta e tam desigual. In the following year he wrote a burlesque lamentation and testament, entitled _Pranto de Maria Parda_, 'because she saw so few branches in the streets of Lisbon and wine so dear, and she could not live without it[61].' In the late summer of 1523 in the celebrated convent of Thomar he presented one of his most famous farces before the King: _Farsa de Ines Pereira_. The critics were already gaining ground and 'certain men of good learning' doubted whether he was the author of his plays or stole them from others, a doubt suggested perhaps by the somewhat close resemblance of the _Barca da Gloria_ to the Spanish _Danza de la Muerte_. Vicente vindicated his originality by taking as his theme the proverb 'Better an ass that carries me than a horse that throws me,' and developing it into this elaborate comedy. At Christmas of the same year at Evora, in the introductory speech of the _Auto Pastoril Portugues_, placed in the mouth of a _beirão_ peasant, the audience is informed that poor Gil who writes plays for the King is without a farthing and cannot be expected to produce them as splendidly as when he had the means (I. 129). He was probably disappointed that the 6 milreis which he had received that year (May 1523) was not a regular pension. His complaint fell on listening ears and in 1524 (the year of Camões' birth) he was granted two pensions, of 12 and of 8 milreis, while in January 1525 he received a yet further pension of three bushels of wheat. Thus, although his possession of an estate near Torres Vedras, not far from Lisbon, has been proved to be a myth and we know that the entire fortune of his widow consisted in 1566 of ten milreis and that of his son Luis of thirty[62], and while we must remember his expenses in travelling and in the production of his plays, his financial position compares very favourably with that of Luis de Camões half a century later. The _Fragoa de Amor_, wrongly assigned to 1525, belongs to the year 1524, the occasion being the betrothal of King João III to Catharina, sister of the Emperor Charles V[63]. The year 1525 is the most discussed date in the Vicentian chronology. Two plays are doubtfully assigned to it and we may perhaps add a third, the _Auto da Festa_, as well as the _trovas_ addressed to the Conde de Vimioso. Senhor Braamcamp Freire[64] plausibly places in this year the _Farsa das Ciganas_, although the date of the rubric is 1521, the year perhaps in which the idea of this slight piece took shape in the poet's brain. There is a more definite reason for assigning _Dom Duardos_ to this year. It is a play based on the romance of chivalry commonly known as _Primaleon_, of which a new edition appeared at Seville in October 1524[65], and we know from Gil Vicente's dedication that Queen Lianor († 17 Dec. 1525) was still alive[66]. Yet we are still in the region of hypothesis, for the adventures of Dom Duardos were in print since 1512 (Salamanca)[67], and we may perhaps doubt whether this 'delicious idyl[68],' the longest of Vicente's works, was ready a year after the publication of the Seville edition, although as Senhor Braamcamp Freire points out[69], the betrothal of the Emperor Charles V to the King's sister was a suitable occasion for the production of the play[70]. The only play assigned with some certainty to 1525 is that in which the husband of Ines Pereira reappears as a rustic judge _à la Sancho Panza: O Juiz da Beira_, acted before the King at Almeirim. It was a year of famine and plague at Lisbon. The fact that the verses addressed by Vicente to the Conde de Vimioso inform us that Vicente's household was down with the plague and his own life in danger (III. 38) bind these verses to no particular date, the plague being then all too common a visitation. Indeed General Brito Rebello and Senhor Braamcamp Freire both attribute this poem to 1518. His complaints of poverty would thus have begun immediately after his resignation of the lucrative post of Master of the Mint and before he had received his pensions. 'He who does not beg receives nothing,' he says, and later on in the same poem 'If hard work and merit spelt success I would have enough to live on and give and leave in my will' (III. 382-3). The general tone of these verses is more in accordance with that of his later plays[71], and the occasion was more probably that in which he composed the _Templo de Apolo_, written when he was _enfermo de grandes febres_ (II. 371), and acted in January 1526[72]. In his verses he tells the Conde de Vimioso that 'I have now in hand a fine farce. I call it _A Caça dos Segredos_. It will make you very gay.' 'I call it'; but the name given by the author was more than once ousted by a popular title. This implied popularity of Gil Vicente's plays, acted before the Court and not published in a collected edition till a quarter of a century after his death, might seem unaccountable were it not for the fact that some of his pieces, printed separately, were eagerly read, and that the people might be present in fairly large numbers when his plays were represented in church or convent. We know too that plays were acted in private houses. The publication of Antonio Ribeiro Chiado's _Auto da Natural Invençam_ (_c._ 1550) by the Conde de Sabugosa throws much light on this subject. This _auto_, acted a few years after Vicente's death, contains the description of the presentation of a play in a private house at Lisbon. The play was to begin at 10 or 11 p.m., the actors having to play first at two other private houses. So great is the interest that not only is the house crowded and its door besieged but the throng in the street outside is so thick that the players have much difficulty in forcing their way through it. The owner of the house had given 10 cruzados for the play[73]. Vicente's _Auto da Festa_ was similarly acted in a private house. The most interesting of all the facts recorded by Chiado is the eagerness of the people. Uninvited persons from the crowd outside kept pressing in at the door. Thus we can easily understand how the people could give their own name to a play, fastening on words or incident that especially struck them. The Farce of the Poor Squire became _Quem tem farelos?_[74], the author's name for the _Auto da Mofina Mendes_ was _Os Mysterios da Virgem_ (I. 103), the _Clerigo da Beira_ was also known as the _Auto de Pedreanes_[75]. Therefore when we come upon a new title of a Vicente play unknown to us we need not conclude that it is a new play. Of the seven Vicente plays[76] placed on the Portuguese _Index_ of 1551 four are known to us. The _Auto da Vida do Paço_ may be identified with some probability with the _Romagem de Aggravados_[77]. If we may not identify the _Jubileu de Amores_ with the _Auto da Feira_ its disappearance must be accounted for by the wrath of the Church of Rome, which fell upon it when produced at Brussels in 1531[78]. The remaining play _O Auto da Aderencia do Paço_ can scarcely be identified with the _Auto da Festa_ on the ground that the _vilão_ says (1906 ed., p. 123): Quem quiser ter que comer Trabalhe por aderencia: Haverá quanto quiser. Vosoutros que andais no paço.... especially as there was scarcely anything for the Censorship to condemn: merely the mention of the _Priol's_ two sons (p. 111) and the ease with which the old woman obtains a Bull from the Nuncio (pp. 120, 124). There is far more reason, 'in my simple conjectures,' for believing that _A Caça dos Segredos_ altered its name before or after it was produced and became _A farsa chamada Auto da Lusitania_. In the burlesque passage concerning Gil Vicente in this play (III. 275-6) we learn that he was instructed for seven years and a day in the Sibyl's cave and informed by the Sibyl of the secrets which she knew about the past: E ali foi ensinado Sete anos e mais um dia E da Sibila informado Dos segredos que sabia Do antigo tempo passado. If the _Trovas ao Conde de Vimioso_ were written in 1525, the seven years during which Vicente hunted for secrets bring us to 1532, the date of the _Auto da Lusitania_. The necessary allusions to the birth of the Prince were inserted, but the play had been ready long before[79]. The _Auto da Festa_ was probably acted in a private house at Evora. It contains scarcely an indication as to its date[80], but it has passages similar to others in the _Farsa de Ines Pereira_ (1523), the _Fragoa de Amor_[81] (1524) and the _Farsa das Ciganas_ (1525?)[82]. That the play was prior to the _Templo de Apolo_ seems evident, and the author would be unlikely to copy from what he calls an _obra doliente_ (II. 373) with Portuguese passages introduced to prop up a play originally written wholly in Spanish (_ibid._). Nor need the anti-Spanish passages tell against the year of the betrothal of Charles V and the Infanta Isabel, for they are placed in the mouth of a _vilão_ and the play was performed in private. In the _Templo de Apolo_ the anti-Spanish atmosphere has not quite vanished, but the _vilão_ contents himself with saying that _Deos não é castelhano_, and even so Apollo feels bound to present his excuses: Villano ser descortés No es mucho de espantar. _Quem não parece esquece_, says Vicente in his _trovas_ to Vimioso. _Les absents ont tort_. After a quarter of a century he could no longer describe his _autos_ as a new thing and he was now confronted by the formidable novelty of the hendecasyllabic metre introduced by Sá de Miranda from Italy. He felt that he had his back against the wall[83]. He made a prodigious effort to vary the themes of his plays and to produce them with increasing frequency. The year 1527 is his _annus mirabilis_. The _Sumario da Historia de Deos_ and the _Dialogo sobre a Ressurreiçam_ are assigned, if not to this year, to the period 1526-8[84]. The _Nao de Amores_ celebrated the entry of Queen Catharina into Lisbon in 1527, and before the autumn[85] three plays, the _Divisa da Cidade de Coimbra_, the _Farsa dos Almocreves_ and the _Tragicomedia da Serra da Estrella_, had been presented before the Court at the charming old town of Coimbra which ten years later definitively became the University town of Portugal. His great efforts were not unrewarded, for in the following year he received a yet further pension of 12 milreis. On his way back from Coimbra to Santarem he fell among some Spanish carriers who took advantage of the new Queen's favour to fleece the poet, and he wrote some verses of comic complaint to the King (II. 383-4). The rubric assigns to the same year the famous _Auto da Feira_ (Lisbon: Christmas 1527) but Snr Braamcamp Freire[86] points out that King João did not spend Christmas of this year at Lisbon and assigns it to 1528, the year in which the celebrated Dialogues of Alfonso and Juan de Valdés saw the light. In April 1529 the _Triunfo do Inverno_ celebrated the birth of the Infanta Isabel. The author introduced the play in a long lament in verse over the forgotten jollity of earlier times and then, to show that his own hand had lost none of its cunning, he gave his audience a feast of lyrical passages in the Triumphs of Winter and Spring. In 1527 Vicente seems clearly to have aimed his allusions to the sons of priests at Francisco de Sá de Miranda, whose father was a priest and who was born at Coimbra. And now in _O Clerigo da Beira_[87] we have a priest addressing his son Francisco and telling him that a priest's son will never come to any good. On his part the grave Sá de Miranda had protested against the introduction of scenes from the Bible into the _farsas_: the allusion to Vicente was clear although his treatment of such scenes was usually reverent. Vicente still had the ear of the Court and Sá de Miranda could only lament that the new style had at first so little vogue in Portugal. That the King, when he had leisure, consulted Vicente on weightier matters than the production of Court plays is proved by a passage[88] in the letter addressed to him by the poet from Santarem. A terrible earthquake shock on Jan. 26, 1531, followed by other severe shocks, kept the people in a panic for fifty days. _Terruerant satis haec pavidam praesagia plebem_, and to make matters worse the monks of Santarem, with an eye on the new Christians, spoke of the wrath of God and announced another earthquake as calmly as if they were giving out the hour of evensong. Vicente, who in his letter to the King[89] says, like Newman's Gerontius, 'I am near to death,' assembled the monks and preached them an eloquent sermon. The prestige of the Court poet restrained their zeal and probably avoided another massacre such as he had seen at Lisbon a quarter of a century before. It was in December of this year that the _Jubileu de Amores_ was acted in the house of the Portuguese Ambassador at Brussels, to the horror of Cardinal Aleandro, who almost persuaded himself that he was witnessing the sack of Rome four years earlier. It was perhaps before this that King João commanded Vicente to publish his works, but he could not be greatly perturbed that a play by Vicente had given offence to the Holy See, with which he was himself often in unpleasant relations at this time. At all events Vicente continued to produce his plays. In 1532 the birth of the long desired heir to the throne was celebrated at Lisbon, and Vicente presented the _Auto da Lusitania_, while two long plays, the _Romagem de Aggravados_ and _Amadis de Gaula_, belong to the following year. The former was acted at Evora in honour of the birth of the Infante Felipe (May 1533). _Amadis de Gaula_ perhaps shows some signs of weariness, and if he played the part of Amadis he would apply to himself the lines Que ya veis que soy pasado A la vida de los muertos (II. 282). The _Auto da Cananea_ was written at the request of the Abbess of Oudivellas and acted at that convent near Lisbon in 1534. It contains perhaps a reference to the earthquake of 1531 (I. 373). The _Auto da Mofina Mendes_ may have been written some years before it was acted in the presence of the King at Evora on Christmas morning 1534: it alludes to the capture of Francis I at Pavia (1525) and to the sack of Rome (1527). Vicente had returned to Evora at least as early as August 1535, and in 1536 he produced there before the King his last play, the _Floresta de Enganos_, which may well have been a collection of farcical scenes written at various periods of his career[90]. We know that he was dead on April 16, 1540. He did not follow the Court to Lisbon in August 1537 and his death may be assigned with some plausibility to the end of 1536 at Evora[91]. The children of his second marriage were almost certainly with him, Paula and Luis, who edited his works in 1562 and were now still in their teens, and the even younger Valeria. Paula seems to have inherited her father's versatility and his musical, dramatic and literary tastes. Tradition connects her closely with him and would even assign her a part in the composition of his plays. Another and a more reliable tradition says that he was buried in the Church of S. Francisco at Evora. His life had been full and strenuous and we leave him in this quiet little town _depois da vida cansada descansando_[92]. II. CHARACTER AND IDEAS If we were limited to the information about Gil Vicente furnished by his contemporaries, we should but know that he had introduced into Portugal _representações_ of eloquent style and novel invention imitating Enzina's eclogues with great skill and wit[93], and that the mordant comic poet Gil Vicente, who hid a serious aim beneath his gaiety and was skilled in veiling his satire in light-hearted jests, might have excelled Menander, Plautus and Terence if he had written in Latin instead of in the vulgar tongue[94]. That is, we should have known nothing that we could not learn from his plays and it is to his plays that we must go if we would be more closely acquainted with his character and his attitude towards the problems of his day. King Manuel, says Damião de Goes, always kept at his Court Spanish buffoons as a corrective of the manners and habits of the courtiers[95]. The King may have had something of the sort in his mind in encouraging Gil Vicente, and probably he especially favoured his allusions to the courtiers; but we cannot for a moment consider that Vicente, friend and adviser of King João III, the grave town-councillor whose influence could check the fanaticism of the monks at Santarem--can we imagine them bowing before a mere mountebank, a strolling player?--was looked upon simply as a Court jester. The impression left by his plays is, rather, that of the worthy thoughtful face of Velazquez as painted in his _Las Meninas_ picture, a figure closely familiar with the Court yet still somewhat aloof, _apartado_. like Gil Terron. Vicente regards himself as a _rustico peregrino_ (III. 390), an _ignorante sabedor_ (I. 373) as opposed to the ignorant-malicious or ignorant-presumptuous of the Court. But Vicente was no ascetic, his was a genial, generous nature, he liked to have enough to spend and give and leave in his will. Kindly and chivalrous, he was a champion of the down-trodden but had first-hand knowledge of the malice and intrigues of the peasants and of the poor in the towns. Above all he was thoroughly Portuguese. He might place his scene in Crete but in that very scene he would refer to things so Portuguese as the _janeiras_ and _lampas de S. João_. Portugal is Pequeno e muy grandioso, Pouca gente e muito feito, Forte e mui victorioso, Mui ousado e furioso Em tudo o que toma a peito, and he appears to have shared the popular prejudice against Spain. Did he also share the people's hostility towards the priests and the Jews? It cannot be said that the priests presented in his plays are patterns of morality. As to the Jews he knows of their corrupt practices and describes them in a late play as _a mais falsa ralé_[96]. It was during the last ten years of Vicente's life that the question of the new Christians came especially to the front (from 1525). In earlier plays Vicente seems more sympathetic towards them and the pleasant sketch of the Jewish family in Lisbon is as late as 1532[97]. In 1506, the very year of the massacre of Jews at Lisbon, he had gone to the root of the question when he declared in his lay sermon that: Es por demás pedir al judío Que sea cristiano en el corazón ... Que es por demás al que es mal cristiano Doctrina de Cristo por fuerza ni ruego[98]. And twenty-five years later he said to the monks at Santarem: 'If there are some here who are still strangers to our faith it is perhaps for the greater glory of God[99].' That is to say: if you force the Jews to become Christians you will only make them hypocrites; far better to treat them frankly as Jews and not expect figs from thistles. That Vicente himself was a devout Christian and Catholic and a deeply religious man such plays as the _Auto da Alma_, the _Barcas_, the _Sumario_, the _Auto da Cananea_ are sufficient proof. He had much of the Erasmian spirit but nothing in common with the Reformation. His irreverence is wholly external, it was abuses not doctrine that he attacked, the ministers of the Church and not the Church itself. He may have been in the secret of King João's somewhat stormy negotiations with the Holy See and he took the national and regalist view: in the _Auto da Feira_ Mercury addresses Rome as follows: Nam culpes aos reis da terra, Que tudo te vem de cima (I. 166). He wished to reform the Church from within. All are perversely asleep, a sleep of death[100]. Many prayers do not suffice without _almas limpas e puras_[101]. Men must be judged by their works[102]. In the _Auto da Fé_ (1510) we have a simple declaration of faith: Fé he amar a Deos só por elle Quanto se pode amar, Por ser elle singular, Nam por interesse delle; E se mais quereis saber, Crer na Madre Igreja Santa E cantar o que ella canta E querer o que ella quer[103]. But four years earlier and ten before Luther's formal protest against the papal indulgences we find Vicente in his lay sermon referring to the question 'whether the Pope may grant so many pardons' and laughing at the hair-splitting of preachers: was the fruit that Eve ate an apple, a pear or a melon[104]? His own religion certainly had a mystical and pantheistic tendency[105]. It was as deep as was his love of Nature. He would have the hearts of men dance with jocund May[106]: Hei de cantar e folgar E bailar c'os corações, and he had an eye for the humblest flower that blows--chicory and camomile, hedge flowerets, honeysuckle and wild roses: Almeirones y magarzas, Florecitas por las zarzas, Madresilvas y rosillas (I. 95. Cf. II. 29). And he sympathized closely with what was nearest to Nature: peasants and children. Of the people of the towns he was probably less enamoured and he speaks of _a desvairada opinião do vulgo_ and of the folly of pandering to it[107]. At Court he certainly had many friends. A friendly rivalry in art and letters bound him to Garcia de Resende for probably over forty years and he was no doubt on excellent terms with the _dadivoso_ Conde de Penella (II. 511), the _muito jucundo_ Conde de Tentugal (III. 360) and the Conde de Vimioso. High rank was no certain shelter from the shafts of Vicente's wit, but when it was a case of princes he was more careful: Agora cumpre atentar Como poemos as mãos, as he ingenuously remarks[108]. King João II had seen to it that no class or individual should dispute the power of the throne, and now the King reigned supreme. Kings, says Vicente, are the image of God[109]. That was in 1533, when it might seem to him that the authority of the throne was more than ever necessary to cope with the confusion of the times. The King's power stood for the nation, that of a noble might mean mere private ambition or power in the hands of one unworthy, and Gil Vicente asks nobly: Quem não é senhor de si Porqué o será de ninguem? (Who himself cannot control Why should he o'er others rule?) He had witnessed many changes, and looking back as an old man his memory might well be overwhelmed by a period so crowded[110]. He had seen the provinces and capital of Portugal transformed by the overseas discoveries. We may be sure that he had watched with more interest than the ordinary _lisboeta_ the extension of the Portuguese empire and the deeds of the unfortunate Dom Francisco de Almeida ('Tomou Quiloa e Mombaça, Parece cousa de graça Ver de que morte acabou') and the redoubtable Afonso de Albuquerque, who snatched victories from defeat in the teeth of all manner of obstruction and indifference and placed Portugal's glory on a pinnacle scarcely dreamed of even in the intoxicating moment of Gama's first return to Belem in 1499: Outro mundo encuberto Vimos então descubrir Que se tinha por incerto: Pasma homem de ouvir. Meanwhile Vicente never lost sight of the fact that the nation's strength lay not in rich imports, however fabulous and envied, but in the good use of its own soil and capacities and in the vigour, energy and discipline of its inhabitants, and a note of warning sounded again and again in his plays as he saw the old simplicity sink and disappear before wave on wave of luxury, ambition and hollow display. He had felt the good old times, content with rustic dance and song, vanishing since 1510: De vinte annos a ca Não ha hi gaita nem gaiteiro[111]. Now no one is content: _ninguem se contenta da maneira que sohia_[112]. _Tudo bem se vai ao fundo_[113]. He especially deplored the new confusion between the classes[114]. Shepherd, page and priest all wish to serve the King, that is, to become an official and to idle for a fixed wage while the land remained unploughed. The peasants do not know what they want and _murmuram sem entender_[115]. There is slackness everywhere (_todos somos negligentes_)[116]. Portugal was suffering from a crisis similar to that of four centuries later and men were inclined to leave their professions in order to theorize or in the hope of growing rich by a short cut or by chance instead of by hard, steady work; and the result was a period of upheaval and disquiet. Vicente suffered like the rest. He had embodied in his plays the simple pastimes of the Portuguese people, their delight in the processions, services and dramatic displays of the Church, in the mimicry of the early _arremedillos_, in the rich fancy-dress _momos_ which were an essential element at great festivities. But his drama was not classical, often it was not drama. Technically he is less dramatic than Lucas Fernández or Torres Naharro. He defied every rule of Aristotle and mingled together the grave and gay, coarse and courtly in a way faithful to life rather than to any accepted theories of the stage. While he continued to produce these natural and delightful plays all kinds of new conditions arose. It was the irony of circumstance that when the old Portuguese poetry held the field the taste of the Court for personal satire and magnificent show could scarcely appreciate at its true value the lyrical gift of Vicente; and later, after King Manuel's death, Vicente found himself confronted by a new school in which classicism carried the day, the long Italian metres superseded the merry native _redondilha_ of eight syllables, and the latinisers began to transform the language and shuddered like _femmes savantes_ at Vicente's barbarisms and uncouth _voquibles_. His attitude towards his critics was one of humility and good humour. It is at least good to know that Vicente with his _redondilhas_ continued to triumph personally in his old age and it was only the hand of death that drove him from the scene. Nor did he cease to point out abuses: the increase of _a falsa mentira_, the corruption of justice[117], the greed for money[118] and the growth of luxury[119]. He pillories the ignorance of pilots[120] by which so many ships were lost now and later, and he seems to doubt the wisdom of keeping women shut up like nuns both before[121] and after[122] marriage. If in many respects Vicente belonged to the Middle Ages, in his curiosity and many-sidedness he was a true child of the Renaissance. He dabbled in astrology and witchcraft, loved music (he wrote tunes for some of his lyrics), poetry, reading, acting and the goldsmith's art, and maintained his zest in old age: _Mofina Mendes_ was probably written when he was over sixty. Attempts to represent him as a Lutheran reformer, a deep philosopher or an authority in questions philological fall to the ground. He was a jovial poet and a keen observer who loved his country, and when he saw its inhabitants all at sixes and sevens he would willingly have brought them back to what he called _a boa diligencia_. III. TYPES SKETCHED IN HIS PLAYS In Vicente's notes and sketches of the Portugal of his day we may see the master hand of the goldsmith accustomed to set jewels. His miniatures are so distinct and the types described are so various that had we no other record of the first third of the sixteenth century in Portugal we might form a very fair and singularly vivid estimate from his plays. With a comic poet we have, of course, to be on our guard. When Vicente introduces the _lavrador_ who steals his neighbour's land, is he drawing from life or from Berceo's _mal labrador_ or from the _Danza de la Muerte_ (_fasiendo furto en la tierra agena_) or from the Bible: 'Cursed be he that removeth his neighbour's landmark'? When he presents the poverty-stricken nobleman, the dissipated priest, rustics from Beira, or negro slaves, for how much does the conventional satire of the day stand in these portraits and how much is drawn from Nature? Are they merely literary types? It is obvious that these themes were a great resource for the satirists of that time but their value to the satirist lay in their truth. The sad existence of the poor gentleman and the splendour maintained by penniless nobles are all too well attested. As to the priests, when we find King Manuel joining with King Ferdinand of Spain in a protest to the Pope to the effect that the whole of Christendom was scandalized by the dissolute life of the clergy and by the traffic in Bulls[123], and grave ecclesiastics in Spain and friends of grave ecclesiastics, like Franco Sacchetti[124] earlier in Italy, using language even more violent than that of Vicente, we need not doubt the truth of his sketches. He was perhaps more vivid than the other critics and his satire penetrated deeply for the very reason that he was a realist. There was no doubt some professional exaggeration in the language of his _beirão_ rustics, but his sympathy with the peasants and his wide knowledge of the province of Beira prove that his object was not merely mockery: _zombar da gente da Beira_[125]. Many of his types are foreshadowed in the _Cancioneiro Geral_, and especially in the _Arrenegos_ of Gregorio Afonso, of the household of the Bishop of Evora: the 'priest who lives like a layman,' 'the gentleman who has not enough to eat,' 'the man of great estate and small income,' the _preciosos_, the _borrachas_, the _fantasticos_, the _alcouviteira_, 'the peasants placed in a position of importance.' In developing these figures Vicente was always careful to keep close to Nature. Each speaks in his own language, 'the negro as a negro, the old man as an old man.' This is carried to such a length that the Spanish Queen in the lament on the death of King Manuel is made to speak her few lines in Spanish, the rest of the poem being in Portuguese[126]. Vicente is not an easy writer because his styles are so many and his allusions so local. But we must be infinitely grateful to him for the way in which he portrays a type in a few lines and for the fact that although they are types they are evidently taken from individuals whom he had observed and who continue to live for us in his pages. His gallery of priests is for all time. Frei Paço comes, with his velvet cap and gilt sword, 'mincing like a very sweet courtier'; Frei Narciso starves and studies, tinging his complexion to an artificial yellow in the hope that his hypocritical asceticism may win him a bishopric; the worldly courtier monk fences and sings and woos; the Lisbon priest, like his confessor one of Love's train, fares well on rabbits and sausages and good red wine, even as the portly pleasure-loving Lisbon canons; the country priest resembles a kite pouncing on chickens; the ambitious chaplain accepts the most menial tasks, compared with whom the sporting priest of Beira is at least pleasantly independent; and there are the luxurious hermit, the dissipated village priest who never prayed the hours, the inconstant monk who had been carrier and carpenter and now wishes to be unfrocked in order to join more freely in dance and pilgrimage, the mad friar Frei Martinho persecuted by dogs and Lisbon _gamins_, the ambitious preacher who glosses over men's sins. If the priests fared well in this life the satirists were determined that they should not be equally fortunate after their death. Vicente's proud Bishop is to be boiled and roasted, the grasping Archbishop is left perpetually aboiling, the ambitious Cardinal is to be devoured by dogs and dragons in a den of lions, while the sensual and simoniacal Pope is to have his flesh torn with red-hot iron. And we have--although here Vicente discreetly went to the _Danza de la Muerte_ for his satire--the vainglorious and tyrannical Emperor, the Duke who had adored himself and the King who had allowed himself to be adored. There are the careless hedonistic Count more given to love than to charity or churchgoing, the _fidalgo de raça_, the haughty _fidalgo de solar_ with a page to carry his chair, the judge who through his wife accepts bribes from the Jews, the rhetorical goldsmith, the usurer (_onzeneiro_) with his heart in his _cassette_ (_arca_)[127]. There too the pert servant-girl, the gossiping maidservant, the witch busy at night over a hanged man at the cross-roads, the faithless wife of the India-bound _lisboeta_, the Lisbon old woman copious in malediction, her genteel daughter Isabel, the wife who in her husband's absence only leaves her house to go to church or pilgrimage, the _mal maridada_ imprisoned by her husband, the peasant bride singing and dancing in skirt of scarlet, the woman superstitiously devout, the _beata alcouviteira_ who would not have escaped the Inquisition had she been printed like Aulegrafia in the seventeenth century, lisping gypsies, the _alcouviteiras_ Anna and Branca and Brigida, the _curandera_ with her quack remedies, the poor farmer's daughter brought to be a Court lady and still stained from the winepress, the old woman desirous of a young husband, the slattern Catherina Meigengra, the market-woman who plays the _pandero_ in the market-place, the peasant girls with pretentious names coming down to market basket on head from the hills, the shrew Branca and the timid wife Marta, the two irrepressible Lisbon fishwives, the voluble _saloia_ who sells milk well watered and charges cruel prices for her eggs and other wares, the country priest's greedy 'wife' who eats the baptism cake and is continually roasting chestnuts, the mystical ingenuous little shepherdess Margarida who sees visions on the hills, the superior daughter of the peasant judge who had once spoken to the King, the small Beira girl keeping ducks, Lediça the affectedly ingenuous daughter of the Jewish tailor, Cezilia of Beira possessed by a familiar spirit. Or, again, we have the ceremonious Lisbon lover Lemos, the high-flown Castilian of fearful presence and a lion's heart, however threadbare his _capa_[128], the starving gentleman who makes a _tostão_ (= _5d._) last a month and dines off a turnip and a crust of bread, another--a sixteenth century Porthos--who imagines himself a _grand seigneur_ and has not a sixpence to his name but hires a showy suit of clothes to go to the palace, another who is an intimate at Court (_o mesmo paço_) but who to satisfy a passing passion has to sell boots and viola and pawn his saddle, the poor gentleman's servant (_moço_) who sleeps on a chest, or is rudely awakened at midnight to light the lamp and hold the inkpot while his master writes down his latest inspiration in his song-book, the incompetent Lisbon doctors with their stereotyped formulas, the frivolous persons who are bored by three prayers at church but spend nights and days listening to _novellas_, the _parvo_, predecessor of the Spanish _gracioso_, the Lisbon courtier descended from Aeneas, the astronomer, unpractical in daily life as he gazes on the stars, the old man amorous, rose in buttonhole, playing on a viola, the Jewish marriage-brokers, the country bumpkin, the lazy peasant lying by the fire, the poor but happy gardener and his wife, the quarrelsome blacksmith with his wife the bakeress, the carriers jingling along the road and amply acquainted with the wayside inns, the aspiring _vilão_, the peasant who complains bitterly of the ways of God, the _lavrador_ with his plough who did not forget his prayers and was charitable to tramps but skimped his tithes, the illiterate but not unmalicious _beirão_ shepherd who had led a hard life and whose chief offence was to have stolen grapes from time to time, the devout bootmaker who had industriously robbed the people during thirty years, the card-player blasphemous as the _taful_ of King Alfonso's _Cantigas de Santa Maria_, the delinquent from Lisbon's prison (the _Limoeiro_) whom his confessor had deceived before his hanging with promises of Paradise, the peasant _O Moreno_ who knows the dances of Beira, the negro chattering in his pigeon-Portuguese 'like a red mullet in a fig-tree,' the deceitful negro expressing the strangest philosophy in Portuguese equally strange, the rustic clown Gonçalo with his baskets of fruit and capons, who when his hare is stolen turns it like a canny peasant to a kind of posthumous account: _leve-a por amor de Deos pola alma de meus finados_, the Jew Alonso Lopez who had formerly been prosperous in Spain but is now a poor new Christian cobbler at Lisbon, the Jewish tailor who in the streets gives himself _fidalgo_ airs and is overjoyed at the regard shown him by officials and who at home sings songs of battle as he sits at his work[129]. In the actions and conversation of this motley crowd of persons high and low we are given many a glimpse of the times: the beflagged ship from India lying in the Tagus, the modest dinner (_a panela cosida_) of the rich _lavrador_, the supper of bread and wine, shellfish and cherries bought in Lisbon's celebrated Ribeira market, the Lisbon Jew's dinner of kid and cucumber, the distaff bought by the shepherd at Santarem as a present for his love, the rustic gifts of acorns, bread and bacon, the shepherdess' simple dowry or the more considerable dowry of a girl somewhat higher in society (consisting of a loom, a donkey, an orchard, a mill and a mule), the migratory shepherds' ass, laden with the milk-jugs and bells, and with a leathern wallet, yokes and shackles, the sheepskin coats of the shepherds, bristling masks for their dogs (as a defence against wolves), loaves of bread, onions and garlic. Thus in town and village, palace and attic, house and street, on road and mountain and sea the Portugal of the early sixteenth century is clearly and charmingly conveyed to us, and we can realize better the conditions of Gil Vicente's life at Court or as he journeyed on muleback to Evora or Coimbra, Thomar or Santarem or Almeirim. IV. ORIGINALITY AND INFLUENCE In 1523 the 'men of good learning' doubted Vicente's originality. They might point to the imitations of Enzina or to the resemblance between the trilogy of _Barcas_ and the _Danza de la Muerte_ or they might reveal the origin of many a verse and phrase used by Vicente in his plays and already familiar in the song-books of Spain and Portugal. Vicente could well afford to let his critics strain at these gnats. He had the larger originality of genius and while realizing that 'there is nothing new under the sun[130]' he could transform all his borrowings into definite images or lyrical magic. (There are flashes of poetry even in the absurd _ensalada_ of III. 323-4.) He was the greatest lyrical poet of his day and, in a strictly limited sense, the greatest dramatist. He is Portugal's only dramatist, without forerunners or successors, for the playwrights of the Vicentian school lacked his genius and only attain some measure of success when they closely copy their master, while the classical school produced no great drama in Portugal: it is impossible to except even Antonio Ferreira's _Ines de Castro_ from this sweeping assertion. But that is not to say that Vicente stands entirely isolated, self-sufficing and self-contained. Genius is never self-sufficing. Talent may live apart in an ivory palace but genius overflows in many relations, is acted on and reacts and has the generosity to receive as well as to give. The influences that acted upon Gil Vicente were numerous: the Middle Ages and the humanism of the first days of the Renaissance, the old national Portugal with its popular traditions and the new imperial Portugal of the first third of the sixteenth century, the Bible and the _Cancioneiro de Resende_, the whole literature of Spain and Portugal, the services of the Church, the book of Nature. But before examining how these influences work out in his plays it may be well to consider whether their sources may be yet further extended. Court relations between Portugal and France had never entirely ceased and the 1516 _Cancioneiro_ contains many allusions to the prevailing familiarity with things French. But Vicente's genius was not inspired by the Court: it would be truer to say that, while he was encouraged by Queen Lianor and the King, the Court's taste for new things, superficial fashions and personal allusions tended to thwart his genius. When he introduces a French song in his plays this does not imply any intimate acquaintance with the lyrical poetry of France but rather deference to the taste of the Court. He would pick up words of foreign languages with the same quickness with which he initiated himself into the way of witch or pilot, fishwife or doctor, but we have an excellent proof that his knowledge of neither French nor Italian was profound. We know how consistently he makes his characters speak each in his own language. Yet in the _Auto da Fama_, whereas the Spaniard speaks Spanish only, the Frenchman and Italian murder their own language and eke it out with Portuguese[131]. Vicente read what he could find to read, but we may be sure that his reading was mainly confined to Portuguese and Spanish. The very words in his letter to King João III in which he speaks of his reading are another echo of Enzina[132], and although it cannot be asserted that he was not acquainted with this or that piece of French literature and with the early French drama, it may be maintained that whatever influence France exercised upon him came mainly through Spain, whether the connecting link is extant, as in the case of the _Danza de la Muerte_, or lost, as in that of the _Sumario da Historia de Deos_. Probably Vicente knew of French _mystères_ little more than the name[133]. As to the literature of Greece, Rome and Italy the conclusion is even more definite. Vicente had not read Plautus or Terence, his knowledge of _el gran poeta Virgilio_ (III. 104) does not extend beyond the quotation _omnia vincit amor_. Aristotle is a name _et praeterea nihil_. With the classical tragedy of Trissino and others he had nothing in common, and if he lived to read or see Sá de Miranda's _Cleopatra_ he probably had his own very marked opinion as to its value. Dante was, of course, a closed book to him as to most of his contemporaries. With Spanish literature the case is very different. The fourteenth and fifteenth centuries were the most Spanish period of Portuguese literature. The _Cancioneiro de Resende_ is nearly as Spanish as it is Portuguese. Portuguese poets were, almost without exception, bilingual. The horsemen stationed to bring the news of the wedding from Seville to Evora in 1490 were emblematic of the close relations between the two countries. Men were in continual expectation that they would come to form one kingdom[134]. King Manuel's infant son was heir to Spain and Portugal and the empires in Africa and America. Vicente's close acquaintance with Spanish literature shows itself at every turn, and if we examine his plays we find but slight traces of the influence of any other literature. His first pieces were written in Spanish, and the Spanish is that of Enzina. Lines and phrases are taken bodily from the Spanish poet and words belonging to the conventional _sayagués_ (in which there was already a Portuguese element: cf. _ollos_ for _ojos_) placed on the lips of _charros_ by Enzina are transferred from Salamanca to Beira. The Enzina eclogues imitated by Vicente were based on those of Virgil, but in Vicente's imitation there is no vestige of any knowledge of the classics. The only Latin that occurs is the quotation by Gil Terron of three lines from the Bible. A little later the hungry _escudero_ of _Quem tem farelos?_ was in all probability derived from Spanish literature, either from the Archpriest of Hita's _Libro de Buen Amor_ or from some popular sketch such as that contained later in _Lazarillo de Tormes_ (1554)[135]. The only French element in the _Auto da Fé_ is the _fatrasie_ or _enselada_ 'which came from France,' but its text is not given. The classical allusions to Virgil and the Judgment of Paris in the _Auto das Fadas_ are perfectly superficial. A little medical Latin is introduced in the _Farsa dos Fisicos_. _O Velho da Horta_, which opens with the Lord's Prayer, half in Latin, half in Portuguese[136], is written in Portuguese with the exception of the fragment of song and the lyric _¿Cual es la niña?_ There is a reference to Macias, a name which had become a commonplace in Portuguese poetry as the type of the constant lover. Spanish influence is shown in the introduction of the _alcouviteira_ Branca Gil, probably suggested by Juan Ruiz' _trotaconventos_ or by Celestina. The _Exhortação da Guerra_ begins with humorous platitudes, _perogrulladas_, after the fashion of Enzina. Gil Terron has increased his classical lore, and Trojan and Greek heroes are brought from the underworld, the _dramatis personae_ including Polyxena, Penthesilea, Achilles, Hannibal, Hector and Scipio. The influence of Enzina is still evident in the _Auto da Sibila Cassandra_, the _bellíssimo auto_ wherein Menéndez y Pelayo saw the first germ of the symbolical _autos_ in which Calderón excelled[137], and in the _Auto dos Quatro Tempos_. The immediate influence on the _Barcas_ is plainly Spanish, this being especially marked in the _Barca da Gloria_. When the _Diabo_ addresses the King: Nunca aca senti Que aprovechase aderencia Ni lisonjas, crer mentiras ... Ni diamanes ni zafiras (I. 285) he is copying the words of Death in the _Danza de la Muerte_: non es tiempo tal Que librar vos pueda imperio nin gente Oro nin plata nin otro metal[138]. Vicente's Devil taxes the Archbishop with fleecing the poor (I. 294) in much the same words as those of the Spanish Death to the Dean (t. 2, p. 12). The Devil in the _Barca do Purgatorio_ (I. 251) and Death (t. 2, p. 17) both reproach the _labrador_ with the same offence: surreptitiously extending the boundaries of his land. It must be admitted that these signs of imitation are more direct than the French traces indicated in the introduction of the 1834 edition of Vicente's works. The whole treatment of the _Barcas_ closely follows the _Danza de la Muerte_. The idea of a satirical review of the dead is of course nearly as old as literature. In the _Barca da Gloria_ Vicente begins to quote Spanish _romances_[139], and this is continued on a larger scale in the _Comedia de Rubena_ (cf. also the Spanish songs in the _Cortes de Jupiter_) and in _Dom Duardos_, in which reference is also made to two Spanish books, Diego de San Pedro's _Carcel de Amor_ and Hernando Diaz' translation _El Pelegrino Amador_[140]. Maria Parda's will was probably suggested rather by such burlesque testaments as that of the dying mule in the _Cancioneiro de Resende_ than by the _Testament de Pathelin_. The criticism of the _homens de bom saber_ seems to have turned Vicente to more peculiarly Portuguese themes in the _Farsa de Ines Pereira_ and the _Auto Pastoril Portugues_, and in the _Fragoa de Amor_, written for the new Queen from Spain, he presents national types: _serranas_, pilgrims, nigger, monk, idiot. In the _Ciganas_ we have a passing reference to 'the white hands of Iseult,' a lady already well known in Spanish and Portuguese literature. _Dom Duardos_ is of course based entirely on a Spanish romance of chivalry. In _O Juiz da Beira_ he returns to the _escudeiro_ and _alcouviteira_; the figures are, however, thoroughly Portuguese with the exception of a new Christian from Castille. The title of the _Nao de Amores_ already existed in Spanish literature[141]. After this we have a group of thoroughly Portuguese plays, those presented at Coimbra, the anticlerical _Auto da Feira_, the _Triunfo do Inverno_, _O Clerigo da Beira_. It is not till _Amadis de Gaula_ that Vicente again has recourse to Spanish literature[142], and we may be sure that if he had known of a Portuguese text he would have written his drama in Portuguese. Although Vicente owed much to Spanish literature we have only to compare his plays with those of Juan del Enzina or Bartolomé de Torres Naharro, or his first attempts with his later dramas to realize his genius and originality. The variety of his plays is very striking and the farce _Quem tem farelos?_ (1508?), the patriotic _Exhortação_ (1513), the _Barca_ trilogy (1517-9), the religious _Auto da Alma_ (1518), the three-act _Comedia de Rubena_ (1521), the character comedy _Farsa de Ines Pereira_ (1523), the idyllic _Dom Duardos_ (1525?) mark new departures in the development of his genius. No doubt his plays are 'totally unlike any regular plays and rude both in design and execution[143].' Vicente divided them into religious plays (_obras de devaçam_), farces, comedies and tragicomedies, but the kinds overlap and there is nothing to separate some of the comedies and tragicomedies from the farces, while some of the farces are religious both in subject and occasion. How artificial the division was may be seen from the rubric to the _Barca do Inferno_, which informs us that the play is counted among the religious plays because the second and third parts (_Barca do Purgatorio_ and _Barca da Gloria_) were represented in the Royal Chapel, although this first part was given in the Queen's chamber, as though the subject and treatment of the three plays were not sufficient to class them together. Again, the rubric of the _Romagem de Aggravados_ runs: 'The following tragicomedy is a satire.' Really only its length separates it from the early farces. Vicente's plays were a development of the earlier Christmas, Holy Week and Easter _representaciones_, religious shows to which special pomp was given at King Manuel's Court. When he began to write the classical drama was unknown and it is absurd to judge his work by the Aristotelean theory of the unities of time and place. His idea of drama was not dramatic action nor the development of character but realistic portrayal of types and the contrast between them. His first piece, _Auto da Visitaçam_, has not even dialogue--its alternative title is _O Monologo do Vaqueiro_--and for comic element it relies on the contrast between Court and country as shown by the herdsman's gaping wonder. The _Auto Pastoril Castelhano_ contains six shepherds and contrasts the serious mystical Gil with his ruder companions. The action of the _Auto dos Reis Magos_ is as simple as that of the two preceding plays. _Quem tem farelos?_ however is a quite new development. 'The argument,' says the rubric, 'is that a young squire called Aires Rosado played the viola and although his salary [as one of the Court] was very small he was continually in love.' He is contrasted with another penniless _escudeiro_ who gives himself martial airs and willingly speaks of the heroic deeds of Roncesvalles, but runs away if two cats begin to fight. Only five persons appear on the stage, but with considerable skill Vicente enlarges the scene so as to include a vivid picture of the second squire as described by his servant as well as the barking of dogs, mewing of cats and crowing of cocks and the conversation of Isabel with Rosado, which is conjectured from his answers. No doubt the two _moços_ owe something to Sempronio and Parmeno of the _Celestina_, but this first farce is thoroughly Portuguese and gives us a concrete and living picture of Lisbon manners. Not all the farces have this unity. The _Auto das Fadas_ loses itself in a long series of verses addressed to the Court. The _Farsa dos Fisicos_ has no such extraneous matter: it confines itself to the lovelorn priest and the contrast between the four doctors. The _Comedia do Viuvo_ is not a farce and only a comedy by virtue of its happy ending. A merchant of Burgos laments the death of his wife and is comforted by a kindly priest and by a friend who wishes that his own wife were as the merchant's (the simple mediaeval contrast common in Vicente). Meanwhile Don Rosvel, Prince of Huxonia, has fallen in love with both the daughters of the merchant, whom he agrees to serve in all kinds of manual labour as Juan de las Brozas. His brother, Don Gilberto, arrives in search of him and a quaintly charming and technically skilful play ends with a double wedding (the Crown Prince of Portugal, present at the acting of this play, had to decide for Don Rosvel which daughter he should marry). The _Auto da Fama_ is Vicente's second great hymn to the glory of Portugal. Portuguese Fame, in the person of a humble girl of Beira, is envied and wooed in vain by Castille, France and Italy--England and Holland were then scarcely in the running--and narrates in ringing verses the deeds of the Portuguese in the East, without, however, mentioning the great name of Albuquerque, a name which inspired many of the courtiers with more fear than affection. The _Auto dos Quatro Tempos_ is a pastoral-religious play, the main theme being, as its title indicates, a contrast between the four seasons. David appears as a shepherd and Jupiter also takes a considerable part in the conversation. Action there is none. Vicente's satirical vein found excellent occasion in the ancient theme of scrutinizing the past lives of men as Death reaps them, high and low, but his profoundly religious temperament raises the _Barcas_ into an atmosphere of sublime if gloomy splendour, which is surpassed in the _Auto da Alma_, the most perfect and consistent of his religious plays--even the symbolical character of the latter part can hardly be called a defect. In the _Comedia de Rubena_ the development of Vicente's art is perhaps more superficial than real. It is divided into three long scenes or acts and is thus more like a regular comedy than his other plays. The acts, however, are isolated, the action occupies fifteen years and occurs in Castille, Lisbon and Crete. English readers of the play must be struck by its resemblance to _Pericles, Prince of Tyre_. Written fifty-five years before Lawrence Twine's _The Patterne of Painful Adventures_ (1576) and eighty-seven before George Wilkins and William Shakespeare produced their play (1608), the _Comedia de Rubena_ is in fact a link in a long chain beginning in a lost fifth century Greek romance concerning Apollonius of Tyre and continued after Gil Vicente's death in Timoneda's _Tarsiana_ and in _Pericles_. Vicente, however, in all probability did not derive his Cismena, cold and chaste predecessor of Marina, from the _Gesta Romanorum_ or the _Libro de Apolonio_ but from the version in John Gower's _Confessio Amantis_, of which a translation, as we know, was early available in Portugal. After an exclusively Court piece, the _Cortes de Jupiter_, Vicente wrote the _Farsa de Ines Pereira_, in which there is more action and development of character than in his preceding, or indeed his subsequent, plays. He represents the aspirations and repentance of Ines, the 'very flighty daughter of a woman of low estate.' Despite the warnings of her sensible mother she rejects the suit of simple and uncouth Pero Marques for that of a gentleman (_escudeiro_) whose pretensions are far greater than his possessions. The mother gives them a house and retires to a small cottage. But the _escudeiro_ married confirms the wisdom of the Sibyl Cassandra (I. 40). He keeps his wife shut up 'like a nun of Oudivellas.' The windows are nailed up, she is not allowed to leave the house even to go to church. Thus the hopes and ambitions of Ines Pereira de Grãa are tamed, although she was never a shrew[144]. Presently, however, the _escudeiro_ resolves to cross over to Africa to win his knighthood: ás partes dalem Vou me fazer cavaleiro, and he leaves his wife imprisoned in their house, the key being entrusted to the servant (_moço_). Ines, singing at her work, is declaring that if ever she have to choose another husband _on ne m'y prendra plus_ when a letter arrives from her brother announcing that her husband, as he fled from battle towards Arzila, had been killed by a Moorish shepherd. The faithful Pero Marques again presses his suit. He is accepted and is made to suffer the whims and infidelity of the emancipated Ines. The question of women's rights was a burning one in the sixteenth century. Vicente's versatility enabled him to laugh at his critics to the end of the chapter. In _Dom Duardos_ he gave them an elaborate and very successful dramatization of a Spanish romance of chivalry. The treatment has both unity and lyrical charm. It was so successful that the experiment was repeated in 1533 with the earlier romance of _Amadis de Gaula_ (1508), out of which Vicente wrought an equally skilful but less fascinating play[145]. But Vicente had not given up writing farces and the sojourn of Ines Pereira's husband in town enables the author to introduce various Lisbon types in _O Juiz da Beira_. It indeed completely resembles the early farces, while the _Auto da Festa_ with its peasant scene and allegorical _Verdade_ is of the _Auto da Fé_ type but adds the theme of the old woman in search of a husband. The _Templo de Apolo_, composed for a special Court occasion, shows no development, but in the _Sumario_ we have a fuller religious play than he had hitherto written. It proves, like _Dom Duardos_, his power of concentration and his skill in seizing on and emphasizing essential points in a long action (the period here covered is from Adam to Christ[146]). It is closely moulded on the Bible and contains, besides an exquisite _vilancete_ (_Adorae montanhas_), passages of noble poetry and soaring fervour--Eve's invocation to Adam: Ó como os ramos do nosso pomar Ficam cubertos de celestes rosas (I. 314); Job's lament 'Man that is born of woman' (I. 324); the paraphrase or rather translation of 'I know that my Redeemer liveth' (I. 322). Nothing here, surely, to warrant the complaints of Sá de Miranda as to the desecration of the Scriptures. This play was followed by the _Dialogo sobre a Ressurreiçam_ by way of epilogue; it is a conversation between three Jews and is treated in the cynical manner that Browning brought to similar scenes. The _Sumario_ or _Auto da Historia de Deos_ was acted before the Court at Almeirim and must have won the sincere admiration of the devout João III. If the courtiers were less favourably impressed they were mollified by the splendid display of the _Nao de Amores_ with its much music, its Prince of Normandy and its miniature ship fully rigged. Vicente was now fighting an uphill battle and in the _Divisa da Cidade de Coimbra_ he attempted a task beyond the strength of a poet and more suitable for a sermon such as Frei Heitor Pinto preached on the same subject: the arms of the city of Coimbra. Even Vicente could not make this a living play; it is, rather, a museum of antiquities and ends with praises of Court families. It is pathetic to find the merry satirist reduced to admitting (in the argument of this play) that merely farcical farces are not very refined. Yet we would willingly give the whole play for another brief farce such as _Quem tem farelos?_: Ya sabeis, senhores, Que toda a comedia começa em dolores, E inda que toque cousas lastimeiras Sabei que as farças todas chocarreiras Não sam muito finas sem outros primores (II. 108). Fortunately he returned to the plain farce in _Os Almocreves_, the _Auto da Feira_ and _O Clerigo da Beira_ (which, however, ends with a series of Court references) with all his old wealth of satire, touches of comedy and vivid portraiture. He also returned to the pastoral play in the _Serra da Estrella_, while his exquisite lyrism flowers afresh in the _Triunfo do Inverno_, a tragicomedy which is really a medley of farces. It is not a great drama but it is a typical Vicentian piece, combining vividly sketched types with a splendid lyrical vein. Winter, that banishes the swallows and swells the voice of ocean streams, first triumphs on hills and sea and then Spring comes in singing the lovely lyric _Del rosal vengo_ in the Serra de Sintra. The play ends on a serious and mystic note, for Spring's flowers wither but those of the holy garden of God bloom without fading: E o santo jardim de Deos Florece sem fenecer. The _Auto da Lusitania_ is divided into two parts, the first of which is complete in itself and gives a description of a Jewish household at Lisbon, while the second is a medley which contains the celebrated scene of Everyman and Noman: Everyman seeks money, worldly honour, praise, life, paradise, lies and flattery; Noman is for conscience, virtue, truth. In the _Romagem de Aggravados_ the fashionable and affected Court priest, Frei Paço, is the connecting link for a series of farcical scenes in which a peasant brings his son to become a priest, two noblemen discourse on love, two fishwives lament the excesses of the courtiers, Cerro Ventoso and Frei Narciso betray their mounting ambition, civil and ecclesiastic, the poor farmer Aparicianes implores Frei Paço to make a Court lady of his slovenly daughter, two nuns bewail their fate and two shepherdesses discuss their marriage prospects. The _Auto da Mofina Mendes_ is especially celebrated because Mofina Mendes, personification of ill-luck, with her pot of oil is the forerunner of La Fontaine's _Pierrette et son pot au lait_: it was perhaps suggested to Vicente by the tale of Doña Truhana's pot of honey in _El Conde Lucanor_; the theme of counting one's chickens before they are hatched also forms the subject of one of the _pasos_, entitled _Las Aceitunas_, of the goldbeater of Seville, Lope de Rueda[147]. Vicente's piece consists, like some picture of El Greco, of a _gloria_, called, as Rueda's scenes, a _passo_, in which appear the Virgin and the Virtues (Prudence, Poverty, Humility and Faith) and an earthly shepherd scene. It is thus a combination of farce and religious and pastoral play. Vicente's last play, the _Floresta de Enganos_, is composed of scenes so disconnected that one of them is even omitted in the summary given after the first deceit: that in which a popular traditional theme, derived directly or indirectly from a French (perhaps originally Italian) source, _Les Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_, is presented, akin to that so piquantly narrated by Alarcón in _El Sombrero de Tres Picos_ in the nineteenth century, the judge playing the part of the Corregidor and the malicious and sensible servant-girl that of the miller's wife. In these last plays we see little or no advance: there is no attempt at unity or development of plot. We cannot deny that the creator of the penniless-splendid nobleman and the mincing courtier-priest and the author of such touches as the death of Ines' husband or the sudden ignominious flight of the judge possessed a true vein of comedy, but he remained to the end not technically a great dramatist but a wonderful lyric poet and a fascinating satirical observer of life. His influence was felt throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries in Portugal, by Camões and in the plays of Chiado, Prestes and a score of less celebrated dramatists, as well as in a considerable number of anonymous plays, but confined itself to the _auto_, which, combated by the followers of the classical drama and the Latin plays of the Jesuits, soon tended to deteriorate and lose its charm. In Spain his influence would seem to have been more widely felt, which is not surprising when we remember how many of his plays were Spanish in origin or language[148]. We may be sure that Lope de Rueda was acquainted with his plays and that several of them were known to Cervantes--the servant Benita insisting on telling her simple stories to her afflicted mistress is Sancho Panza to the life: _Benita._ Diz que era un escudero.... _Rubena._ O quien no fuera nacida: ¿Viendome salir la vida Paraste a contar patrañas? _Benita._ Pues otra sé de un carnero.... Lope de Vega was likewise certainly familiar with some of Vicente's plays. If we consider these passages in _El Viaje del Alma_, the _representación moral_ contained in _El Peregrino en su Patria_ (1604), we must be convinced that the trilogy of _Barcas_, the _Auto da Alma_, and perhaps the _Nao de Amores_ were not unknown to him: Alma para Dios criada Y hecha a imagen de Dios, etc.; Hoy la Nave del deleite Se quiere hacer a la mar: ¿Hay quien se quiera embarcar?; Esta es la Nave donde cabe Todo contento y placer[149]. The alleged imitation by Calderón in _El Lirio y la Azucena_ is perhaps more doubtful. Vicente was already half forgotten in Calderon's day. In the artificial literature of the eighteenth century he suffered total eclipse although Correa Garção was able to appreciate him, nor need we see any direct influence in that of the nineteenth[150] except that on Almeida Garrett: the similar passages in Goethe's _Faust_ and Cardinal Newman's _Dream of Gerontius_ were no doubt purely accidental. Happily, however, we are able to point to a certain influence of the great national poet of Portugal on some of the Portuguese poets of the twentieth century. The promised edition of his plays will increase this influence and render him secure from that neglect which during three centuries practically deprived Portugal and the world of one of the most charming and inspired of the world's poets. FOOTNOTES: [6] _Falamos do nosso Shakespeare, de Gil Vicente_ (A. Herculano, _Historia da Inquisição em Portugal_, ed. 1906, vol. I. p. 223). The references throughout are to the Hamburg 3 vol. 1834 edition. [7] See infra _Bibliography_, p. 86, Nos. 42, 62, 79. [8] _Bibliography_, Nos. 21, 24, 25, 26, 30, 51, 52, 59, 89. [9] _Bibliography_, Nos. 29, 48, 57, 66, 83, 95. [10] _Bibliography_, Nos. 53, 73, 82, 88, 97. [11] _Bibliography_, Nos. 44, 84, 90, 101, 102. [12] Guerra Junqueiro, _Os Simples_. [13] Cf. André de Resende, _Gillo auctor et actor_. (For the accurate text of this passage see C. Michaëlis de Vasconcellos, _Notas Vicentinas_, I. p. 17.) [14] _Os livros das obras que escritas vi_ (Letter of G. V. to King João III). [15] 'E assi mandou de Castella e outras partes vir muitos ouriveis para fazerem arreos e outras cousas esmaltadas.' (Garcia de Resende, _Cronica del Rei D. João II_, cap. 117.) [16] _Bibliography_, Nos. 70, 71. [17] He argues that Vicente was not old enough to be King Manuel's tutor, but in other passages he is clearly in favour of the date 1460 or 1452. He is born 'considerably before' 1470 (_Revista de Historia_, t. 21, p. 11), in 1460? (_ib._ p. 27), in 1452? (_ib._ pp. 28, 31, and t. 22, p. 155), 'about 1460' (t. 22, p. 150), he is from two to seven years younger than King Manuel, born in 1469 (t. 21, p. 35). He is nearly 80 in 1531 (_ib._ p. 30). His marriage is placed between 1484 and 1492, preferably in the years 1484-6 (_ib._ p. 35). [18] Gil Terron in the same year is _alegre y bien asombrado_ (I. 12). [19] Cf. _Nao de Amores_ (1527), _Viejo, vuestro mundo es ido_, and II. 478 (1529). [20] See A. Braamcamp Freire in _Revista de Historia_, t. 26, p. 123. [21] _Grandes baxillas y pedraria_ (_Canc. Geral_, vol. III. (1913), p. 57). [22] Cf. _Canc. Geral_, vol. I. (1910), p. 259: Vejam huns autos Damado, Huũ judeu que foi queimado No rressyo por seu mal. [23] There is a slight confusion. The 'second night of the birth' of the rubric may mean the night following that of the birth (June 6-7), i.e. the evening of June 7, or the second night _after_ the birth, i.e. the evening of June 8; but the former is the more probable. [24] Damião de Goes, _Chronica do felicissimo Rey Dom Emanuel_, Pt I. cap. 69. [25] See A. Braamcamp Freire in _Revista de Historia_, vol. XXII. (1917), p. 124 and _Critica e Historia_, vol. I. (1910), p. 325; Brito Rebello, _Gil Vicente_ (1902), p. 106-8. [26] _Antología de poetas líricos castellanos_, t. 7, p. clxiii. [27] _Orígenes de la Novela_, t. 3, p. cxlv. [28] _Antol._ t. 7, p. clxvi. [29] _Ib._ p. clxxvi. [30] _Ib._ p. clxiv. [31] Especially that of Garcia de Resende, who in one verse (185) of his _Miscellanea_ mentions the goldsmiths and in the next verse the plays of Gil Vicente. [32] _Bibliography_, No. 45. [33] Cf. his earlier studies, in favour of identity, with his later works, maintaining cousinhood. [34] Cf. _Obras_, I. 154 (Jupiter is the god of precious stones), I. 93, 286; II. 38, 46, 47, 210, 216, 367, 384, 405; III. 67, 70, 86, 296, etc. Cf. passages in the _Auto da Alma_ and especially the _Farsa dos Almocreves_. Vicente evidently sympathizes with the goldsmith to whom the _fidalgo_ is in debt, and if the poet took the part of _Diabo_ in the _Auto da Feira_ (1528) the following passage gains in point if we see in it an allusion to the debts of courtiers to him as goldsmith: Eu não tenho nem ceitil E bem honrados te digo E homens de muita renda Que tem divedo comigo (I. 158). [35] The MS. note by a sixteenth century official written above the document appointing Gil Vicente to the post of _Mestre da Balança_ should be conclusive as to the identity of poet and goldsmith: _Gil V^te trouador mestre da balança_ (_Registos da Cancellaria de D. Manuel_, vol. XLII. f. 20 v. in the _Torre do Tombo_, Lisbon). [36] Garcia de Resende († 1536) was of opinion that it had no rival in Europe: nam ha outra igual na Christamdade no meu ver. (_Miscellanea_, v. 281, ed. Mendes dos Remedios (1917), p. 97.) It contained 5000 _moradores_ (_ibid._). In the days of King Duarte (1433-8) the number was 3000. [37] Cf. the dedication of _Dom Duardos_ (_folha volante_ of the Bib. Municipal of Oporto, N. 8. 74) to Prince João: 'Como quiera Excelente Principe y Rey mui poderoso que las Comedias, Farças y Moralidades que he compuesto en servicio de la Reyna vuestra tia....' [38] The date 1509 is not barred by the reference to the _Sergas de Esplandian_, which certainly existed in an earlier edition than the earliest we now possess (1510). A certain Vasco Abul had given a girl at Alenquer a chain of gold for dancing a _ballo vylam ou mourysco_ and could not get it back from the _gentil bayladeyra_. Gil Vicente contributes but a few lines: _O parecer de gil vycente neste proceso de vasco abul á rraynha dona lianor_. [39] It is absurd to argue that during the years of his chief activity as goldsmith he had not time to produce the sixteen plays that may be assigned to the years 1502-17. [40] _Gil Vicente_ (1912), p. 11-13. [41] The dates in the rubrics are given in Roman figures and the alteration from MDV to MDIX is very slight. [42] Cf. Bartolomé Villalba y Estaña, _El Pelegrino Curioso y Grandezas de España_ [printed from MS. of last third of sixteenth century]. _Bibliófilos Españoles_, t. 23, 2 t. 1886, 9, t. 2, p. 37: 'Almerin, un lugar que los reyes de Portugal tienen para el ynvierno, con un bosque de muchas cabras, corzos y otros generos de caza.' [43] See A. Braamcamp Freire in _Revista de Historia_, vol. XXII. p. 129. [44] A. Braamcamp Freire in _Rev. de Hist._ vol. XXII. p. 133-4. [45] Luis Anriquez in _Canc. Geral_, vol. III. (1913), p. 106. [46] See _Rev. de Hist._ vol. XXII. p. 122; vol. XXIV. p. 290. [47] E.g. the words _ahotas_ and _chapado_ and the expression _en velloritas_ (I. 41), cf. Enzina, _Egloga_ I.: _ni estaré ya tendido en belloritas_ = in clover, lit. in cowslips: _belloritas de jacinto_ (_Egl._ III.). [48] A. Braamcamp Freire in _Rev. de Hist._ vol. XXIV. p. 290. [49] There are, however, several such psalms in the works of Enzina. [50] Cf. I. 85: _huele de dos mil maneras_ with Enzina, _Egloga_ II: _y ervas de dos mil maneras_. In the _Auto da Alma_, probably written about this time, there are imitations of Gomez Manrique (_c._ 1415-90). Cf. the passage in the _Exhortação_. [51] That the illness of the Queen would not prevent the entertainment is proved by the fact that in the month before her death King Manuel was present at a fight between a rhinoceros and an elephant in a court in front of Lisbon's India House. We do not know if Vicente was present nor what he thought of this new thing. [52] In December 1517 El Bachiller de la Pradilla published some verses in praise of _la muy esclarecida Señora Infanta Madama Leonor, Rey[na] de Portugal_ (v. Menéndez y Pelayo, _Antología_, t. 6, p. cccxxxviii). [53] He argues that such a form as MD & viii was never used and must be a misprint for MDxviii. [54] Cf. also the resemblance of certain passages in the _Auto da Alma_ and in the _Auto da Barca da Gloria_ (1519). They must strike any reader of the two plays. [55] Goes, _Chronica_, IV. 34. [56] Garcia de Resende, _Hida da Infanta Dona Beatriz pera Saboya_ in _Chronica...del Rey Dom Ioam II_, ed. 1752, f. 99 V. [57] Gil Vicente, _Á morte del Rei D. Manuel_ (III. 347). [58] Gil Vicente, _Romance_ (III. 350). [59] Goes says generally that King Manuel _foi muito inclinado a letras e letrados_ (_Chronica_, 1619 ed., f. 342. _Favebat plurimum literis_, says Osorio, _De rebus_, 1561, p. 479). [60] II. 4: _Foi feita ao muito poderoso e nobre Rei D. João III. sendo principe, era de MDXXI_ (rubric of _Comedia de Rubena_). [61] II. 364. Although 'good wine needs no bush' the custom of hanging a branch above tavern doors still prevails. [62] A. Braamcamp Freire in _Rev. de Hist._ vol. XXII. p. 162. [63] _Id. ib._ vol. XXIV. p. 307. It is astonishing how slight errors in the rubrics of Vicente's plays have been permitted to survive, just as Psalm LI, of which Vicente perhaps at about this time wrote a remarkable paraphrase, still appears in all editions of his works as Ps. L. [64] _Ib._ vol. XXIV. p. 312-3. [65] Th. Braga, _Historia da Litteratura Portuguesa. II. Renascença_ (1914), p. 85. [66] J. I. Brito Rebello, _Gil Vicente_ (1902), p. 64. [67] H. Thomas, _The Palmerin Romances_ (London, 1916), p. 10-12. [68] M. Menéndez y Pelayo, _Antología_, t. 7, p. cci; _Oríg. de la Novela_, I. cclxvii: _toda la pieza es un delicioso idilio_. [69] _Rev. de Hist._ vol. XXIV. p. 315. [70] It should be noted that the lines in _Dom Duardos_ (II. 212): Consuelo vete de ahi No perdas tiempo conmigo are from the song in the _Comedia de Rubena_ (1521): Consuelo vete con Dios (II. 53). [71] Cf. _O Clerigo da Beira: não fazem bem [na corte] senão a quem menos faz_ (III. 320); _Auto da Festa: os homens verdadeiros não são tidos nũa palha_, etc. [72] _Vejo minha morte em casa_ say the verses to the Conde de Vimioso; _La muerte puesta a mis lados_ says the _Templo de Apolo_. [73] _Auto da Natural Invençam_ (Lisboa, 1917), pp. 64, 65, 68, 69, 70, 88, 89. [74] _Este nome pos-lho o vulgo_ (III. 4). Cf. the title _Os Almocreves_. [75] _Rol dos livros defesos_ (1551) ap. C. Michaëlis de Vasconcellos, _Notas Vicentinas_, I. p. 31. We might assume that the second part of _O Clerigo da Beira_ (III. 250-9) was printed separately under the title _Auto de Pedreanes_ but for the words _por causa das matinas_. [76] _Ib._ p. 30-1. [77] The probability is shown by the fact that the idea of their identity had occurred to me before reading the same suggestion made by Snr Braamcamp Freire in the _Revista de Historia_. [78] See _Notas Vicentinas_, I. (1912). The _Auto da Feira_ answers in some respects to Cardinal Aleandro's description of the _Jubileu de Amores_, and Rome (the Church, not the city) might conceivably have been crowned with a Cardinal's hat, but Aleandro's letter refutes this suggestion: _uno principal che parlava ... fingeasi Vescovo_. Rome in the _Auto da Feira_ (I. 162) is a _senhora_. One can only say that the _Auto da Feira_ may perhaps have been adapted for the occasion, with an altered title, Spanish being added, to suit the foreign audience. [79] _E como sempre isto guardasse Este mui leal autor Até que Deos enviasse O Principe nosso senhor Nam quis que outrem o gozasse_ (III. 276). [80] The familiarity with which the Nuncio is treated would be more suitable if he was the Portuguese D. Martinho de Portugal, but then the date would have to be after 1527. [81] Cf. II. 343: _Salga esotra ave de pena ... Son perdices_ and _Auto da Festa_, p. 101. The latter text is corrupt (_penitas_ for _peitas_, and _cousas fritas_ has ousted the required rhyme _juizes_). [82] The line _nega se m'eu embeleco_ occurs here and in the _Serra da Estrella_ (1527). Arguments as to date from such repetitions are not entirely groundless. Cf. _com saudade suspirando_ (_Cortes de Jupiter_, 1521) and _sam suspiros de saudade_ (_Pranto de Maria Parda_, 1522); _Que dirá a vezinhança?_ III. 21 (1508-9), _A vezinhança que dirá?_ III. 34 (1509); _Ó demo que t'eu encomendo_, III. 99 (1511), _Ó diabo que t'eu encomendo_, II. 362 (1513). The _Exhortação_ (1513), which has passages similar to those in the _Farsa de Ines Pereira_ (1523) and the _Pranto de Maria Parda_ (1522), probably became a kind of national anthem and was touched up for each performance. Curiously, the mention of _a pedra d'estrema_ in the _Pranto_ and in the _Auto da Festa_ might correspond to a first (1521) and second (1525) revision of the _Exhortação_. [83] The very success of his plays incited emulation. A play written in Latin, _Hispaniola_, was acted at the Portuguese Court before his death (Gallardo, ap. Sousa Viterbo, _A Litt. Hesp. em Portugal_ (1915), p. xxiv). [84] See A. Braamcamp Freire in _Rev. de Hist._ vol. XXIV. p. 331. [85] Francisco Alvarez arrived at the Court at Coimbra in the late summer of 1527 and he says: _nam se tardou muito que el Rey nosso senhor se partisse com sua corte via dalmeirim. Verdadeira Informaçam_ (1540), modern reprint, p. 191. [86] _Rev. de Hist._ vol. XXV. p. 89. [87] According to Snr Braamcamp Freire this play must be assigned to the months between September 1529 and February 1530. [88] O mandei a V. A. por escrito até lhe Deos dar descanso e contentamento... pera que por minha arte lhe diga o que aqui falece (III. 388). [89] In this letter, written in the very year of the first Bull for the introduction of the Inquisition into Portugal, Vicente uses the expression 'May I be burnt if.' [90] The line _A quien contaré mis quejas_ (II. 147) is repeated from the _Trovas_ addressed to King João in 1527. It is taken from a poem by the Marqués de Astorga printed in the _Cancionero General_ (1511): ¿A quien contaré mis quexas Si a ti no? Cf. _Comedia de Rubena_ (II. 6): _¿A quien contaré mi pena?_ The comical rôle of the Justiça Maior may have been taken by Garcia de Resende, who added acting to his other accomplishments. He was 66, and he died at Evora in this year. [91] See A. Braamcamp Freire in _Rev. de Hist._ vol. XXVI. p. 122-3. [92] From Gil Vicente's epitaph written by himself. [93] Garcia de Resende (1470-1536), _Miscellanea_, 1752 ed., f. 113. [94] André de Resende, _Genethliacon Principis Lusitani_ (1532), ap. C. Michaëlis de Vasconcellos, _Notas Vicentinas_, I. (1912), p. 17. [95] _Chronica do fel. Rey Dom Emanvel_, Pt IV. cap. 84 (1619 ed., f. 341): Trazia continuadamente na sua corte choquarreiros castelhanos, com os motes & ditos dos quaes folgaua, nam porque gostasse tanto do ̃q diziam como o fazia das dissimuladas reprehensões [_jocis perstringere mores_] ̃q com geitos e palauras trocadas dauam aos moradores de sua casa fazendolhes conhecer as manhas, viços & modos que tinhão, de que se muitos tirauam & emmendauam, tomando o ̃q estes truães diziam com graças por espelho do que aviam de fazer. [96] _Auto da Cananea_ (1534). [97] _Auto da Lusitania_. [98] _Sermão_ (III. 346). [99] _Carta_ (III. 388). [100] _Auto da Mofina Mendes_ (I. 120, 121). [101] _Auto da Cananea_ (I. 365). [102] _Sumario da Historia de Deos_ (I. 338). [103] I. 69. His own knowledge of the Bible was extensive and he often follows it closely, e.g. _Auto da Sibila Cassandra_ (I. 47, 48 = Genesis i.). [104] III. 337, 338. His quarrel with the monks was that they did not serve the State. Cf. _Fragoa de Amor_ (II. 345); _Exhortação da Guerra_ (II. 367). [105] Cf. the passage in the _Sumario da Historia de Deos_ in which Abraham complains that men worship stocks and stones and have no knowledge of God, _criador dos spiritos, eternal spirito_ (I. 326). [106] III. 284. A critic upbraided Wordsworth for saying that his heart danced with the daffodils--no doubt Southey's 'my bosom bounds' was more poetical--yet Shakespeare and Vicente had used the phrase before him. [107] _Carta_ (III. 388). [108] _Cortes de Jupiter_ (II. 405). [109] _Romagem de Aggravados_ (II. 507). [110] The preparation of his plays for the press was, he says, a burden in his old age. Some of the plays had been acted in more than one year, others had been composed years before they were acted, others had been printed separately. Hence the uncertainty of some of the rubric dates. [111] _Triunfo do Inverno_ (1529), II. 447. [112] _Romagem de Aggravados_ (1533), II. 524-5. [113] _Auto Pastoril Portugues_ (1523), I. 129. [114] _Farsa dos Almocreves_ (1527), III. 219. [115] _Triunfo do Inverno_ (1529), II. 487. [116] _Auto da Feira_ (1528), I. 175. [117] See the _Fragoa de Amor_ and the _Auto da Festa_. [118] III. 289 (1532). [119] II. 363 (as early as 1513). [120] II. 467-75. [121] III. 122. [122] III. 148 (cf. I. 40, III. 41). [123] Goes, _Chronica do fel. Rey Dom Emanvel_, Pt I. cap. 33 (1619 ed., f. 20). [124] E.g. _Novella_ 35: sotto apparenza onesta di religione ogni vizio di gola, di lussuria e degli altri, como loro appetito desidera, sanza niuno mezzo usano; _Novella_ 36: hanno meno discrezione che gli animali irrazionali. [125] _Auto da Festa_, ed. 1906, p. 115. [126] Vicente, who could write such pure and idiomatic Portuguese, often used peculiar Spanish, not perhaps so much from ignorance as from a wish to make the best of both languages. Thus he uses the personal infinitive and makes words rhyme which he must have known could not possibly rhyme in Spanish, e.g. _parezca_ with _cabeza_ (Portug. _pareça_--_cabeça_). So _mucho_ rhymes with _fruto_, _demueño_ with _sueño_. [127] The miser, _o verdadeiro avaro_ (III. 287), is barely mentioned. Perhaps Vicente felt that he would have been too much of an abstract type, not a living person. [128] The boastful Spaniard appears (in Goethe's _Italienische Reise_) in the Rome Carnival at the end of the eighteenth century. [129] There are abundant signs of the cosmopolitanism of Lisbon: A Basque and a Castilian tavernkeeper, a Spanish seller of vinegar and a red-faced German friar are mentioned, while Spaniards, Jews, Moors, negroes, a Frenchman, an Italian are among Vicente's _dramatis personae_. [130] It is very curious to find echoes of Enzina in Vicente's apparently quite personal prose as well as in his poetry. _No ay cosa que no esté dicha_, says Enzina, and Vicente repeats the wise quotation and imitates the whole passage. Enzina addressing the Catholic Kings speaks of himself as _muy flaca para navegar por el gran mar de vuestras alabanzas_. Vicente similarly speaks of 'crowding more sail on his poor boat.' Enzina, in his dedication to Prince Juan, mentions, like Vicente, _maliciosos_ and _maldizientes_. [131] In this play the French _tais-toi_ is written _tétoi_. In an age of few books such phonetic spelling must have been common. It has been suggested that the _vair_ (grey) of early French poetry was mistaken for _vert_ (green). The green eyes of the heroines in Portuguese literature from the _Cancioneiro da Vaticana_ to Almeida Garrett would thus be based not on reality but, like Cinderella's glass slippers, on a confusion of homonyms (see Alfred Jeanroy, _Origines de la poésie lyrique en France_, p. 329). [132] See his _Arte de Poesía Castellana_, ap. Menéndez y Pelayo, _Antología_, t. 5, p. 32. [133] _Os autos de Gil Vicente resentem-se muito dos Mysterios franceses_. This was, in 1890, the opinion of Sousa Viterbo (_A Litteratura Hespanhola em Portugal_ (1915), p. ix), but surely Menéndez y Pelayo's view is more correct. [134] In Resende's _Miscellanea_ the line _nõ hos quer deos jũtos ver_ (1917 ed., p. 16) reads in the 1752 ed., f. 105 v. _ja hos quer_. [135] Cf. _Tratado tercero: llevandolo a la boca començó a dar en el tan fieros bocados_ (1897 ed., p. 50) and _Quem tem farelos?: e chanta nelle bocado coma cão_ (i. 7). [136] The _Canc. Geral_ has a _Pater noster grosado por Luys anrryquez_, vol. III. (1913), p. 87. [137] _Antología_, t. 7, pp. clxxii, clxxiv. [138] _Antología_, t. 2, p. 6. [139] I. 298. _Vuelta vuelta los Franceses_ from the _romance Domingo era de Ramos, la Pasion quieren decir_. [140] _Comedia de Rubena_, II. 40. The earliest known edition of the Spanish version of Jacopo Caviceo's _Il Pellegrino_ (1508) is dated 1527 but that mentioned in Fernando Colón's catalogue (no. 4147) was no doubt earlier. In 1521 Vicente can already bracket the Spanish translation with the popular _Carcel de Amor_ printed in 1492, and indeed it ran to many editions. Its full title was _Historia de los honestos amores de Peregrino y Ginebra_. Valdés (_Dialogo de la Lengua_) ranks _El Pelegrino_ as a translation with Boscán's version of _Il Cortegiano: estan mui bien romançados_. [141] E.g. the _Nao de Amor_ of Juan de Dueñas. [142] The Everyman-Noman theme in the _Auto da Lusitania_ is, like that of _Mofina Mendes_, common to many countries and old as the hills. [143] Henry Hallam, _Introduction to the Literature of Europe_ (Paris, 1839), vol. I. p. 206. [144] Cf. the story _del mancebo que casó con una mujer muy fuerte et muy brava_ in Don Juan Manuel's _El Conde Lucanor_ (_c._ 1535). Shakespeare's _The Taming of the Shrew_ was written exactly a century after _Ines Pereira_; the anonymous _Taming of a Shrew_ in 1594. [145] The author of a sixteenth century Spanish play published in _Biblióf. Esp._ t. 6 (1870) declares that, in order to write it, he has 'trastornado todo _Amadis_ y la _Demanda del Sancto Grial_ de pe a pa.' The result, according to the colophon, is 'un deleitoso jardin de hermosas y olientes flores,' a description which would better suit a Vicente-play. [146] Cf. the twelfth century _Représentation d'Adam_. The _Sumario_ has 18 figures. The _Auto da Feira_ has 22, but over half of these consist of a group of peasants from the hills. [147] _Obras_ (1908), t. 2, p. 217-24. [148] The anonymous _Tragicomedia Alegórica del Paraiso y del Inferno_ (Burgos, 1539) followed hard upon his death. It is not the work of Vicente, who, although in his Spanish he used _allen_, would not have translated _nas partes de alem_ into an African town: _en Allen_. [149] _3a impr._ (Madrid, 1733), p. 35; p. 37 (the 1733 text has _Oi_ and _Ai_); p. 39. [150] As late as 1870 Dr Theophilo Braga could say 'Nobody now studies Vicente' (_Vida de Gil Vicente_, p. 59). COPILACAM DE TODALAS OBRAS DE GIL VICENTE, A QVAL SE reparte em cinco Liuros. O Primeyro he de todas suas cousas de deuaçam. O segundo as Comedias. O terceyro as Tragicomedias. No quarto as Farsas. No quinto, as obras meudas. (;) ¶Vam emmendadas polo Sancto Officio, como se manda no Cathalogo deste Regno. ¶ ¶Foy impresso em a muy nobre & sempre leal Cidade de Lixboa, por Andres Lobato. Anno de M. D. Lxxxyj ¶Foy visto polos Deputados da Sancta Inquisiçam COM PRIVILEGIO REAL. ¶E la taxado em papel a reis TITLE-PAGE OF THE SECOND (1586) EDITION OF GIL VICENTE'S WORKS AUTO DA ALMA L'Angel di Dio mi prese e quel d' Inferno Gridava: O tu dal Ciel, perchè mi privi? DANTE, _Purg._ v. _Auto da Alma._ Este auto presente foy feyto aa muyto deuota raynha dona Lianor & representado ao muyto poderoso & nobre Rey dom Emmanuel, seu yrmão, por seu mandado, na cidade de Lisboa nos paços da ribeyra em a noyte de endoenças. Era do Senhor de M. D. & viij[151]. Argvmento. Assi como foy cousa muyto necessaria auer nos caminhos estalagens pera repouso & refeyçam dos cansados caminhantes, assi foy cousa conveniente que nesta caminhante vida ouuesse hũa estalajadeyra para refeição & descanso das almas que vam caminhantes pera a eterna morada[152] de Deos. Esta estalajadeyra das almas he a madre sancta ygreja, a mesa he o altar, os mãjares as insignias da payxã. E desta perfiguraçã[153] trata a obra seguinte. ¶ Está posta hũa mesa cõ hũa cadeyra: ṽe a madre sancta ygreja cõ seus quatro doctores, Sancto Thomas, Sam Hieronymo, Sancto Ambrosio, Sancto Agostinho, & diz Agostinho. 1 AGOST. Necessario foy, amigos, que nesta triste carreyra desta vida pera os mui perigosos perigos dos immigos ouuesse algũa maneyra de guarida. 2 Porque a humana transitoria natureza vay cansada em varias calmas nesta carreyra da gloria meritoria foi necessario pensada pera as almas. ¶ Pousada com mantimentos, mesa posta em clara luz, sempre esperando, com dobrados mantimentos dos tormentos que o filho de Deos na Cruz comprou penando. 4 Sua morte foy auença, dando, por darnos parayso, a sua vida apreçada sem detença, por sentença julgada a paga em prouiso & recebida. ¶ Ha sua mortal empresa foy sancta estalajadeyra ygreja madre consolar aa sua despesa nesta mesa qualquer alma caminheyra com ho padre 6 e o anjo custodio ayo. Alma que lhe he encomendada se enfraquece & lhe vay tomando rayo de desmayo se chegando a esta pousada se guarece. ¶ Ṽe o anjo custodio cõ a alma & diz. 7 ANJO. ¶ Alma humana formada de nenhũa cousa feyta muy preciosa, de corrupçam separada, & esmaltada naquella fragoa perfeyta gloriosa; ¶ planta neste valle posta pera dar celestes flores olorosas & pera serdes tresposta em a alta costa onde se criam primores mais que rosas; 9 planta soes & caminheyra, que ainda que estais vos his donde viestes; vossa patria verdadeyra he ser herdeyra da gloria que conseguis, anday prestes. ¶ Alma bemauenturada, dos anjos tanto querida, nam durmais, hum punto nam esteis parada, que a jornada muyto em breue he fenecida se atentais. 11 ALMA. Anjo que soes minha guarda Olhay por minha fraqueza terreal: de toda a parte aja resguarda que nam arda a minha preciosa riqueza principal. ¶ Cercayme sempre oo redor porque vin muy temerosa da contenda: Oo precioso defensor, meu favor, vossa espada lumiosa me defenda. ¶ Tende sempre mão em mim porque ey medo de empeçar & de cayr. ANJO. Pera isso sam & a isso vim mas em fim cumpreuos de me ajudar a resistir. 14 Nam vos occupem vaydades, riquezas nem seus debates, olhay por vos: que pompas, honrras, herdades, & vaydades sam embates & combates pera vos. ¶ Vosso liure aluidrio, isento, forro, poderoso, vos he dado pollo diuinal poderio & senhorio, que possais fazer glorioso vosso estado. 16 Deuvos liure entendimento & vontade libertada & a memoria, que tenhais em vosso tento fundamento que soes por elle criada pera a gloria. ¶ E vendo Deos que o metal, em que vos pos a estilar pera merecer, que era muyto fraco & mortal, & por tal me manda a vos ajudar & defender. 18 Andemos a estrada nossa, olhay nam torneis a tras que o ̃imigo aa vossa vida gloriosa pora grosa. Nam creaes a Satanas, vosso perigo. ¶ Continuay ter cuydado na fim de vossa jornada & a memoria que o spirito atalayado do peccado caminha sem temer nada pera a gloria. 20 e nos laços infernaes & nas redes de tristura tenebrosas da carreyra que passaes nam cayaes: sigua vossa fermosura as gloriosas. ¶ Adiantase o Anjo e vem o diabo a ella e diz o diabo. ¶ Tam depressa, oo delicada alua pomba, pera onde his? quem vos engana, & vos leua tam cansada por estrada que soomente nam sentis se soes humana? 22 Nam cureis de vos matar que ainda estais em idade de crecer. Tempo hahi pera folgar & caminhar, Viuey aa vossa vontade & a avey prazer. ¶ Gozay, gozay dos b̃es da terra, procuray por senhorios & aueres. Qũe da vida vos desterra aa triste serra? quem vos falla em desuarios por prazeres? 24 Esta vida he descanso doce & manso, nam cureis doutro parayso: quem vos põe em vosso siso outro remanso? 25 ALMA. ¶ Nam me detenhaes aqui, Deyxayme yr, ̃q em al me fundo. DIABO. Oo descansay neste mundo, que todos fazem assi. 26 Nam sam em balde os aueres, Nam sam em balde os deleytes & farturas*, nam sam de balde os prazeres & comeres, tudo sam puros affeytes das creaturas: 27 pera os hom̃es se criarão. Dae folga a vossa possagem doje a mais, descansay, pois descansarão os que passaram por esta mesma romagem que leuais. 28 O que a vontade quiser, quanto o corpo desejar, tudo se faça: zombay de quem vos quiser reprender, querendovos marteyrar tam de graça. 29 Tornarame se a vos fora, his tam triste, atribulada que he tormenta: senhora, vos soes senhora emperadora, nam deueis a ninguem nada, sede isenta. 30 ANJO. Oo anday, quem vos detem? Como vindes pera a gloria devagar! Oo meu Deos, oo summo bem! Ja ninguem nam se preza da vitoria em se saluar. 31 Ja cansais, alma preciosa? Tão asinha desmayaes? Sede esforçada: Oo como virieis trigosa & desejosa, se visseis quanto ganhaes nesta jornada. 32 Caminhemos, caminhemos, esforçay ora, alma sancta esclarecida. ¶ Adiantase o anjo & torna Satanas. Que vaydades & que estremos tam supremos! Pera que he essa pressa tanta? Tende vida. ¶ His muy desautorizada, descalça, pobre, perdida de remate, nam leuais de vosso nada amargurada: assi passais esta vida em disparate. ¶ Vesti ora este brial, metey o braço por aqui, ora esperay. Oo como vem tão real! isto tal me parece bem a mi: ora anday. 35 Hũs chapins aueis mister de Valença, muy fermosos[*], eylos aqui: Agora estais vos molher de parecer. Põde os braços presumptuosos, isso si, 36 passeayuos muy pomposa, ¶ daqui pera ali & de laa por ca, & fantasiay. Agora estais vos fermosa como a rosa, tudo vos muy bem estaa: descansay. Torna o anjo a alma diz̃edo. 37 ANJO. ¶ Que andais aqui fazendo? ALMA. Faço o ̃q vejo fazer pollo mundo. ANJO. Oo Alma, hisuos perd̃edo, correndo vos his meter no profundo. 38 Quanto caminhais auante tanto vos tornais a tras & a trauees, tomastes ante com ante por marcante o cossayro satanas porque querees. ¶ Oo caminhay com cuydado que a Virgem gloriosa vos espera: deyxais vosso principado desherdado, engeytais a gloria vossa & patria vera. 40 Deyxay esses chapins ora & esses rabos tam sobejos, que his carregada, nam vos tome a morte agora tam senhora, nem sejais com tais desejos sepultada. 41 ALMA. ¶ Anday, day me ca essa mão: anday vos, que eu yrey quanto poder. Adiãtese o anjo & torna o diabo. DIABO. Todas as cousas cõ rezão tem çazam. Senhora, eu vos direy meu parecer: 42 hahi tempo de folgar & idade de crecer & outra idade de mandar e triumphar, & apanhar & acquirir prosperidade a que poder. ¶ Ainda he cedo pera a morte: tempo ha de arrepender e yr ao ceo. Pondevos a for da corte, desta sorte viua vosso parecer, que tal naceo. 44 O ouro pera que he? & as pedras preciosas & brocados, & as sedas pera que? Tende per fee ̃q pera as almas mais ditosas foram dados*. ¶ Vedes aqui hum colar douro muy bem esmaltado & dez aneis. Agora estais vos pera casar & namorar: neste espelho vos vereis & sabereis ̃q nam vos ey de enganar. 46 E poreis estes pendentes, em cada orelha seu, isso si, que as pessoas diligentes sam prudentes: agora vos digo eu que you contente daqui. 47 ALMA. ¶ Oo como estou preciosa, tam dina pera seruir & sancta pera adorar! ANJO. Oo alma despiadosa, perfiosa, quem vos deuesse fugir mais que guardar! 48 Pondes terra sobre terra, que esses ouros terra sam: oo senhor, porque permites tal guerra que desterra ao reyno da confusam o teu lauor? ¶ Nam hieis mais despejada & mais liure da primeyra pera andar? Agora estais carregada & embaraçada com cousas que ha derradeyra ham de ficar. 50 Tudo isso se descarrega ao porto da sepultura: alma sancta, quem vos cega, vos carrega dessa vaã desauentura? 51 ALMA. Isto nam me pesa nada mas a fraca natureza me embaraça. Ja nam posso dar passada de cansada: tanta é minha fraqueza & tam sem graça. 52 Senhor hidevos embora, que remedio em mi nam sento, ja estou tal. ANJO. Sequer day dous passos ora atee onde mora a que tem o mantimento celestial. ¶ Ireis ali repousar, comereis algũs bocados confortosos, porque a hospeda he sem par em agasalhar os que vem atribulados & chorosos. 54 ALMA. He lõge? ANJO. Aqui muy perto. Esforçay, nam desmayeis & andemos, que ali ha todo concerto muy certo: quantas cousas querereis tudo temos*. ¶ A hospeda tem graça tanta, faruosha tantos fauores. ALMA. Quem he ella? ANJO. He a madre ygreja sancta, e os seus sanctos doutores i com ella. 56 Ireis di muy despejada chea do Spirito Sancto & muy fermosa: ho alma sede esforçada, outra passada, que nam tendes de andar tãto a ser esposa. 57 DIABO. ¶ Esperay, onde vos his? Essa pressa tam sobeja He ja pequice. Como, vos que presumis consentis continuardes a ygreja sem velhice? 58 Dayuos, dayuos a prazer, ̃q muytas horas ha nos annos que laa vem. Na hora que a morte vier Como xiquer se perdoão quantos dannos a alma tem. 59 Olhay por vossa fazenda: tendes hũas scripturas de hũs casais de que perdeis grande renda. He contenda que leyxarão aas escuras vossos pays; 60 he demanda muy ligeyra, litigios que sam vencidos em um riso: citay as partes terça feyra de maneyra como nam fiquem perdidos & auey siso. 61 ALMA. Calte por amor de deos leyxame, nam me persigas, bem abasta estoruares os ereos dos altos ceos, que a vida em tuas brigas se me gasta. 62 Leyxame remediar o que tu cruel danaste sem vergonha, que nam me posso abalar nem chegar ao logar onde gaste esta peçonha. 63 ANJO. ¶ Vedes aqui a pousada verdadeyra & muy segura a quem quer vida. YGREJA. Oo como vindes cansada & carregada! ALMA. Venho por minha ventura amortecida. 64 YGREJA. Quem sois? pera onde andais? ALMA. Nam sey pera onde vou, sou saluagem, sou hũa alma que peccou culpas mortaes contra o Deos que me criou aa sua imagem. ¶ Sou a triste, sem ventura, criada resplandecente & preciosa, angelica em fermosura & per natura come rayo reluzente lumiosa. 66 E por minha triste sorte & diabolicas maldades violentas estou mais morta que a morte, sem deporte, carregada de vaydades peçonhentas. ¶ Sou a triste, sem meezinha, peccadora abstinada perfiosa, pella triste culpa minha mui mesquinha a todo mal inclinada & deleytosa. 68 Desterrey da minha mente os meus perfeytos arreos naturaes, nam me prezey de prudente mas contente me gozey com os trajos feos mundanaes. ¶ Cada passo me perdi em lugar de merecer, eu sou culpada: auey piedade de mi que nam me vi, perdi meu inocente ser & sou danada. 70 E por mais graueza sento nam poderme arrepender quanto queria, que meu triste pensamento sendo isento nam me quer obedecer como soya. ¶ Socorrey, hospeda senhora, que a mão de Satanas me tocou, e sou ja de mi tam fora que agora nam sey se auante se a traz nem como vou. 72 Consolay minha fraqueza com sagrada yguaria, que pereço, por vossa sancta nobreza, que he franqueza, porque o que eu merecia bem conheço. ¶ Conheçome por culpada & digo diante vos minha culpa. Senhora, quero pousada, day passada, pois que padeceo por nos quem nos desculpa. 74 Mandayme ora agasalhar, capa dos desamparados, ygreja madre. YGREJA. Vindevos aqui assentar muy de vagar, que os manjares são guisados por Deos Padre. ¶ Sancto Agostinho doutor, Geronimo, Ambrosio, Sã Thomas, meus pilares, serui aqui por meu amor a qual milhor, & tu, alma, gostaraas meus manjares. 76 Ide aa sancta cosinha, tornemos esta alma em si, porque mereça de chegar onde caminha & se detinha: pois que Deos a trouxe aqui nam pereça. ¶ Em quanto estas cousas passam Satanas passea fazendo muytas vascas & vem outro & diz. ¶ Como andas desasossegado. DIABO. Arço em fogo de pesar. OUTRO. Que ouueste? DIABO. Ando tam desatinado de enganado que nam posso repousar que me preste. 78 Tinha hũa alma enganada ja quasi pera infernal mui acesa. OUTRO. E quem ta levou forçada? DIABO. O da espada. OUTRO. Ja melle fez outra tal bulra como essa. ¶ Tinha outra alma ja vencida em ponto de se enforcar de desesperada, a nos toda offerecida & eu prestes pera a levar arrastada; 80 e elle fella chorar tanto que as lagrimas corriã polla terra. Blasfemey entonces tanto que meus gritos retiniam polla serra. ¶ Mas faço conta que perdi, outro dia ganharey, e ganharemos. DIABO. Nam digo eu, yrmão, assi, mas a esta tornarey & veremos. 82 Tornala ey a affogar depois que ella sayr fora da ygreja & começar de caminhar: hei de apalpar se venceram ainda agora esta peleja. Alma com o Anjo. ¶ ALMA. Vos nam me desampareis, senhor meu anjo custodio. Oo increos imigos, que me quereis que ja sou fora do odio de meu Deos? 84 Leyxaime ja, tentadores, neste conuite prezado do Senhor, guisado aos peccadores com as dores de Christo crucificado, Redemptor. ¶ Estas cousas estando a alma assentada à mesa & o anjo junto com ella em pee, vem os doutores com quatro bacios de cosinha cubertos cantando Vexila regis prodeunt*. E postos na mesa, Sancto Agostinho diz. 85 AGOST. Vos, senhora conuidada, nesta cea soberana celestial aueis mister ser apartada & transportada de toda a cousa mundana terreal. 86 Cerray os olhos corporaes, deytay ferros aos danados apetitos, caminheyros infernaes, pois buscaes os caminhos bem guiados dos contritos. 87 YGREJA. Benzey a mesa, senhor, & pera consolaçam da conuidada, seja a oraçam de dor sobre o tenor da gloriosa payxam consagrada. 88 E vos, alma, rezareis, contemplando as viuas dores da senhora, vos outros respondereis pois que fostes rogadores atee agora. Oraçã pa Santo Agostinho. ¶ Alto Deos marauilhoso que o mundo visitaste em carne humana, neste valle temeroso & lacrimoso tua gloria nos mostraste soberana; 90 e teu filho delicado, mimoso da diuindade & natureza, per todas partes chagado & muy sangrado polla nossa infirmidade & vil fraqueza. ¶ Oo emperador celeste, Deos alto muy poderoso essencial, que pollo homem que fizeste offereceste o teu estado glorioso a ser mortal. ¶ E tua filha, madre, esposa, horta nobre, frol dos ceos, Virgem Maria, mansa pomba gloriosa o quam chorosa quando o seu Filho e Deos* padecia. 93 Oo lagrymas preciosas, de virginal coraçam estilladas, correntes das dores vossas com os olhos da perfeyçam derramadas! ¶ Quem hũa soo podera ver vira claramente nella aquella dor, aquella pena & padecer com que choraueis, donzella, vosso amor. ¶ E quando vos amortecida se lagrymas vos faltauam nam faltaua a vosso filho & vossa vida chorar as que lhe ficauam de quando orava. 96 Porque muyto mais sentia pollos seus padecimentos vervos tal, mais que quanto padecia lhe doya, & dobrava seus tormentos vosso mal. ¶ Se se podesse dizer, se se podesse rezar tanta dor; se se podesse fazer podermos ver qual estaueis ao clauar do Redemptor. 98 Oo fermosa face bella, oo resplandor divinal, que sentistes quando a cruz se pos aa vella & posto nella o filho celestial que paristes! 99 Vendo por cima da gente assomar vosso conforto tam chagado, crauado tam cruelmente, & vos presente, vendo vos ser mãy do morto & justiçado. 100 O rainha delicada, sanctidade escurecida quem nam chora em ver morta & debruçada a auogada, a força de nossa vida *[pecadora]! 101 AMBROSIO. Isto chorou Hyeremias sobre o monte de Sion ha ja dias, porque sentio que o Messias era nossa redempçam. 102 E choraua a sem ventura triste de Jerusalem homecida, matando contra natura seu Deos nascido em Belem nesta vida. 103 GERONYMO. Quem vira o sancto cordeyro antre os lobos humildoso escarnecido, julgado pera o marteyro do madeyro, seu rosto aluo & fermoso muy cuspido! AGOST. B̃eze a mesa. 104 A bençam do padre eternal & do filho que por nos sofreo tal dor & do spirito sancto, igual Deos immortal, conuidada, benza a vos por seu amor. 105 YGREJA. ¶ Ora sus, venha agoa as mãos. AGOST. Vos aveysuos de lavar em lagrymas da culpa vossa & bem lauada & aueisuos de chegar alimpar a hũa toalha fermosa bem laurada 106 co sirgo das veas puras da Virgem sem magoa nacido & apurado, torcido com amarguras aas escuras, com grande dor guarnecido & acabado. ¶ Nam que os olhos alimpeis, que a nam consentirão os tristes laços que taes pontos achareis da face & enues, que se rompe o coração em pedaços. 108 Vereis*, triste, laurado [com rosto de fermosura]* natural, com tormentos pespontado e figurado, Deos criador, em figura de mortal. ¶ Esta toalha que aqui se falla he a varonica, a qual Sancto Agostinho tira dantre os bacios & a mostra à Alma, & a madre ygreja con os doutores lhe fazem adoração de joelhos, cantando Salue sancta facies, & acabando diz a madre ygreja. ¶ Venha a primeyra yguaria. GERO. Esta yguaria primeyra foy, senhora, guisada sem alegria em triste dia, a crueldade cozinheyra & matadora. 110 Gostala eis com salsa & sal de choros de muyta dor, porque os costados do Messias diuinal, sancto sem mal, forão pollo vosso amor açoutados. ¶ Esta yguaria em ̃q aqui se falla sam os açoutes, & em este passo os tirã dos bacios & os presentam a alma & todos de joelhos adoram cantãdo Aue flagellum, & despois diz Geronymo. ¶ Estoutro manjar segundo he yguaria que aueis de mastigar em contemplar a dor que o senhor do mundo padecia pera vos remediar. 112 foi hum tromento improuiso que aos miolos lhe chegou & consentio, por remediar o siso que a vosso siso faltou, e pera ganhardes parayso a sofrio. ¶ Esta yguaria segunda de que aqui se fala he a coroa de espinhos, e em este passo a tiram dos bacios & de joelhos os sanctos doutores cantam Aue corona espinearum, & acabando diz a madre ygreja. 113 Venha outra do teor. GERO. Estoutro manjar terceyro foy guisado em tres lugares de dor, a qual maior, com a lenha do madeyro mais prezado. 114 Comese com gram tristeza* porque a virgem gloriosa o vio guisar: vio crauar com gram crueza a sua riqueza & sua perla preciosa vio furar. ¶ E a este passo tira sancto Agostinho os crauos, & todos de joelhos os adorão, cantando Dulce lignum, dulcis clauus, & acabada a adoraçam diz o anjo à alma. ¶ Leixay ora esses arreos, que estoutra nam se come assi como cuydais: pera as almas sam mui feos e sam meos con que nam andam em si os mortais. ¶ Despe a alma o vestido & joyas que lho imigo deu & diz Agostinho. ¶ Oo alma bem aconselhada, que dais o seu a cujo he, o da terra ha terra: agora yreis despejada polla estrada, porque vencestes com fee forte guerra. 117 YGREJA. ¶ Venha estoutra yguaria. GERO. A quarta yguaria he tal, tam esmerada, de tam infinda valia & contia que na mente diuinal foy guisada, 118 por mysterio preparada no sacrario virginal muy cuberta, da diuindade cercada & consagrada, despois ao padre eternal dada em oferta. ¶ Apresenta sam Geronymo à alma hum crucificio que tira dantre os pratos, & os doutores o adoram cantando Domine Jesu Christe, & acabando diz a alma. ¶ Cõ que forças, com ̃q spirito te darey, triste, louuores que sou nada, vendote, Deos infinito, tam afflito, padecendo tu as dores & eu culpada? 120 Como estaas tam quebrantado, filho de Deos immortal! quem te matou? Senhor per cujo mandado es justiçado sendo Deos vniuersal que nos criou? 121 AGOST. ¶ A fruyta deste jantar, que neste altar vos foy dado com amor, yremos todos buscar ao pomar adonde estaa sepultado o redemptor. ¶ E todos com a alma, cantando Te Deum laudamus, foram adorar ho muymento. LAVS DEO. NOTES: 1. _pera mui p'rigosos p'rigos_ C. _imigos_ C. 2. _pensada_ A, B; _pousada_ C. _passada_? cf. infra 73 and J. Ruiz _Cantar de Ciegos_. De los bienes deste siglo No tiuemos nos _pasada_. 3. _Pousada com alimentos_? 4. _apressada_ C. 6. _em chegando_? 13. _a resistir_ A, B, C; _e resistir_ D. 18. _atras_ B. _imigo_ B. 20. _trestura_ B. _vem o Diabo e diz_ C. 22. _E havei prazer_ C. 23. _& auereis_? B. _cue da vida vos desterra_ B. 26. _nam som em balde os deleytes_ B. _fortunas_ A, B, C, D, E. _criaturas_ C. 27. _possagem_ A, B; _passagem_ C. 35. _Huns chapins aueis mister De Valença, eylos aqui_ A, B, C, D, E. 36. _de la pera ca_ C. 38. _marcante_ A, B; _mercante_ C, D. _querês_ C, D. 41. _poder_ A; _puder_ B, C. _Todas cousas com razão Tem sazão_ C. 42. _poder_ A, B; _puder_ C. 43. _naceo_ A, B; _nasceo_ C (cf. infra 102 _nascido_ A; 106 _nacido_ A). 44. _dadas_ A, B; _dados_ C. 45. _esmaltados_ B. _neste espelho & sabereis_ B. _Neste espelho bem lavrado Vos vereis_? (omitting _& sabereis--enganar_). 46. _em cada orelha o seu_ B. 47. _despiedosa_ C. 49. _á derradeira_ C. 50. _van_ C. 52. _mim_ C. 54. _muito certo? tudo tendes_ A, B, C, D, E. 56. _Siprito_ B. 58. _como se quer_ C. 59. _escripturas_ C. 61. _estrouares_ B. _hereos_ C. 62. _damnaste_ C. 65. _como o raio_ C. 66. _violentas_ A. _& tromentas_ B. 67. _mezinha_ B. _obstinada_ C. _a todo o mal_ C; _e todo o mal_ D. 68. _arreos_, _feos_ C; _c'os trajos_ C. 69. _logar_ C. _damnada_ C. 71. _soccorey_ C. 74. _devagar_ C. 75. _Jeronimo, Ambrosio e Thomaz_ C, D. _e qual_ D. _melhor_ C, D. 76. _troxe_ B. _passeia_ C. _vem outro Diabo_ C. 77. _dessocegado_ C, D. 79. _Tinha outra alma vencida_ B. 80. _fê-la_ C, D. 81. _asi_ B. 82. _affogar_ A; _affagar_ C. _Entra a Alma, con o Anjo_ C, D. 84. _Vexilla_ C. _pro Deum_ A, B; _prodeunt_ C. 88. _até 'gora_ C, D. 90. _pela nossa_ C, D. 91. _polo homem_ C, E. B omits 90 and 91. 92. _O quão chorosa Quando o seu Deos padecia_ A, B, C, D, E. 93. _com os_ A, B; _c'os olhos_ C, D. 94. _podera ver_ A, B; _podera haver_ C, D. 96. _vermos_ B. 97. _cravar_ C. 100. _morta debruçada_ C. _de nossa vida_ A, B; _da nossa vida_ C, D. _pecadora_? or _e senhora_? or _nesta hora_? 101. _Mesias_ B. 102. _choraua sem_ B. 103. _cospido_ B. 105. _Vso aveysuos_ B. 105. _a limpar_ A [but cf. 107. _alimpeis_ (A)]; _alimpar_ B; _A alimpar_ C. 107. _de face_ C. 108. _Vereis seu triste laurado Natural_ A, B, C, D, E. _Esta toalha de que C. Veronica C. a mostra_ A; _amostra_ B, C. _santa facias_ B. 110. _em ̃q se falla_ B. _açotes_ B. 112. _tormento_ C. _fala_ A; _falla_ B. _espiniarum_ C. _acabado_ B. 113. _theor_ C. 114. _gran_ C. _tristura_ A, B, C, D, E. 114. _clausos_ B. _acabada a oração_ C. 115. _inimigo_ C. 116. _o seu a cujo he_ A, B; _o seu cujo he_ C, D. 118. _oferta_ A; _offerta_ B _crucifixo_ B, C. 119. _spirito_ A, B; _sprito_ C. _tristes louvores_ C, D, E. _dios_ B. 121. _fruta_ B. _a onde_ C. _redemtor_ B. _moymento_ B; _moimento_ C. FOOTNOTES: [151] _MDXVIII_. A. Braamcamp Freire. [152] _pera eterna morada_ B. [153] _prefiguraçã_ B. ENGLISH TRANSLATION: _The Soul's Journey._ _This play was written for the very devout Queen Lianor and played before the very powerful and noble King Manuel, her brother, by his command, in the city of Lisbon at the Ribeira palace on the night of Good Friday in the year 1508._ _Argument._ _As it was very necessary that there should be inns upon the roads for the repose and refreshment of weary wayfarers, so it was fitting that in this transitory life there should be an innkeeper for the refreshment and rest of the souls that go journeying to the everlasting abode of God. This innkeeper of souls is the Holy Mother Church, the table is the altar, the fare the emblems of the Passion. And this allegory is the theme of the following play._ (_A table laid, with a chair. The Holy Mother Church comes with her four doctors, St Thomas, St Jerome, St Ambrose and St Augustine, who says:_) 1 _St Aug._ Friends, 'twas of necessity That upon the gloomy way Of this our life Some sure refuge there should be From the enemy And dread dangers that alway Therein are rife. 2 Since man's spirit migratory In the journey to its goal Is oft oppressed, Weary in this transitory Path to glory, An inn was needed for the soul To stay and rest. 3 An inn provided with its fare, In clear light a table spread Expectantly, And laden with a double share Of torments rare That the Son of God, His life-blood shed, Bought on the Tree. 4 Since by the covenant of His death He gave, to give us Paradise, Even His life, Unwavering He rendereth For us His breath, Paying the full required price Free from all strife. 5 His work as man was to enable Our Mother Church thus to console, Innkeeper lowly, And minister at this very table, Most serviceable, Unto every wayfaring soul, With the Father Holy 6 And its Guardian Angel's care. The soul to her protection given If, weak with sin And yielding almost to despair, It onward fare And to reach this inn have striven, Finds health within. (_The Guardian Angel comes with the Soul and says:_) 7 _Angel._ Human soul, by God created Out of nothingness yet wrought As of great price, From corruption separated, Sublimated, To glorious perfection brought By skilled device; 8 Plant that in this valley growest Flowers celestial for to give Of fairest scent, Hence to that high hill thou goest Where thou knowest Even than roses graces thrive More excellent. 9 Plant wayfaring, since thy spirit, Scarce staying, to its first origin Must still begone, Thy true country is to inherit By thy merit That glory that thou mayest win: O hasten on. 10 Soul that art thus trebly blest By such angels' love attended, Sink not asleep, Nor one instant pause nor rest, Thou journeyest On a way that soon is ended If watch thou keep. 11 _Soul._ Guardian angel, o'er me still Keep thy ward that am so frail And of the earth, On all sides thy watch fulfil That nothing kill My true wealth nor e'er prevail O'er its high worth. 12 Ever encompass me and shield, For this conflict with great fear Fills all my sense, Noble protector in this field, Lest I should yield, Let thy gleaming sword be near For my defence. 13 Still uphold me and sustain For I fear lest I may stumble, Fail and fall. _Angel._ Therefore came I, nor in vain, Yet amain Must thou help me too, and humble Resist all: 14 Even all the world's debate Of riches and of vanity, Seek thou for grace, Since pomp and honour, high estate Vainly elate, Are but a stumbling-block to thee, No resting-place. 15 Power uncontrolled is thine, And an independent will Unbound by fate: Even so in His might divine Did God design That thou in glory mightst fulfil Thy heavenly state. 16 He gave thee understanding pure, Imparted to thee memory, Free will is thine, That so thou mayest e'er endure With purpose sure, Knowing that He has fashioned thee To be divine. 17 And since God knew the mortal frame Wherein He placed thee to distil, (So to win His praise) Was metal weak and prone to shame, Therefore I came Thee to protect--it was His will-- And to upraise. 18 Let us go forth upon our way. Turn not thou back, for then indeed The enemy Upon thy glorious life straightway Will make assay. But unto Satan pay no heed Who lurks for thee. 19 And still the goal seek thou to win Carefully at thy journey's end. And be it clear That the spirit e'er at watch within Against all sin Upon salvation's path may wend Without a fear. 20 In snares of Hell that shall waylay, Dark and awful wiles among, Thee to molest, As thou advancest on thy way Fall not nor stray, But let thy beauty join the throng Of spirits blest. (_The Angel goes forward and the Devil comes to the Soul and says:_) 21 _Devil._ Whither so swift thy flight, Delicate dove most white? Who thus deceives thee? And weary still doth goad Along this road, Yea and of human sense, Even, bereaves thee? 22 Seek not to hasten hence Since thou hast life and youth For further growth. There is a time for haste, A time for leisure: Live at thy will and rest, Taking thy pleasure. 23 Enjoy, enjoy the goods of Earth, And great estates seek to possess And worldly treasures. Who to the hills, exiled from mirth, Thus sends thee forth? Who speaks to thee of foolishness Instead of pleasures? 24 This life is all a pleasaunce fair, Soft, debonair, Look for no other paradise: Who bids thee seek, with false advice, Refuge elsewhere? 25 _Soul._ Hinder me not here nor stay, For far other thoughts are mine. _Devil._ To worldly ease thy thought incline Since all men incline this way. 26 And not for nothing are delights, And not in vain possessions sent And fortune's prize, And not for nought are pleasure's rites And banquet-nights: All these are for man's ornament And galliardize; 27 For mortal men is their array. So let delight thy woes assuage, Henceforth recline And rest, since rest likewise had they Who went this way, Even this very pilgrimage That now is thine. 28 And whatsoe'er thy body crave, Even as thy will desire, So let it be; And laugh thou at the censors grave, Whoso would have Thee torturèd by sufferings dire So uselessly. 29 I would not, being thou, go forth, So sad and troubled lies the way, 'Tis cruelty, And thou art of imperial worth And royal birth, To none thou needest homage pay, Then be thou free. 30 _Angel._ O who thus hinders thee? On, on! How loiterest thou on glory's path So slowly! O God, sole consolation! Now is there none Who of that victory honour hath That is most holy. 31 Soul, already dost thou tire Sinking so soon beneath thy burden? Nay, soul, take heart! Ah, with what a glowing fire Of desire Cam'st thou couldst thou see what guerdon Were then thy part. 32 Forward, forward let us go: Be of good cheer, O soul made holy By this thy strife. (_The Angel goes forward and Satan returns._) _Devil._ But what is all this coil and woe? Why to and fro Flutterest thou in haste and folly? Nay, live thy life. 33 For very piteous is thy plight, Poor, barefoot, ruined utterly, In bitterness, Carrying nothing to delight As thine by right, And all thy life is thus to thee A thing senseless. 34 But don this dress, thy arm goes there, Put it through now, even thus, now stay Awhile. What grace, What finery! I do declare It pleases me. Now walk away A little space. 35 So: I trow shoes are now thy need With a pair from Valencia, fair to see, I thee endow. Now beautiful, as I decreed, Art thou indeed; Now fold thy arms presumptuously: Ev'n so; and now 36 Strut airily, show off thy power, This way and that and up and down Just as thou please; Fair now as fairest rose in flower Thy beauty's dower, And all becomes thee as thine own: Now take thine ease. (_The Angel returns to the Soul, saying:_) 37 _Angel._ What is this that thou art doing? _Soul._ In the world's mirror ev'n as I see I do in this. _Angel._ O soul, thou compassest thy ruin And rushest forward foolishly To the abyss. 38 For every step that onward fares One step back, one step aside Thou takest still, And buyest eagerly the wares That pirate bears, Even Satan, by thee glorified Of thy free will. 39 O journey onward still with care For the Virgin with the elect Doth thee await: Thou leavest desolate and bare Thy kingdom rare, And thine own glory dost reject And true estate. 40 But cast these slippers now aside, This gaudy dress and its long train, Thou art all bowed, Lest Death come on thee unespied And in thy pride These thy desires and trappings vain Prove but thy shroud. 41 _Soul._ Go forward, stretch thy hand to save, Go forward, I will follow thee As best I may. (_The Angel goes forward and the Devil returns._) _Devil._ All things in light of reason grave Their seasons have. And I to thee will, O lady, My counsel say: 42 There is a time here for delight And an age is given for growth, Another age To tread in lordly triumph's might In the world's despite, Gaining ease and riches both On life's full stage. 43 It is too early yet to die, Time later to repent on earth And to seek Heaven. Then cease with fashion's rule to vie, And quietly Enjoy the nature that at birth To thee was given. 44 What, think'st thou, is the use for gold And what the use for precious stones And for brocade, And all these silks so manifold? Ah surely hold That for the souls, the blessed ones, They were all made. 45 See here a necklace in its pride Of skilfully enamelled gold, Here are rings ten: Now mayst thou win the hearts of men, Fit for a bride. In this mirror thou mayst behold Thyself and see That I am not deceiving thee. 46 And here are ear-rings, put them on One in each ear duly now: Even so; For things thus diligently done Prove wisdom won, And now I may to thee avow That right well pleased I hence shall go. 47 _Soul._ O how lovely is my state, How is it for service meet, And for holy adoration! _Angel._ Cruel soul and obstinate, Rather thereat Should I shun thee than still treat Of thy salvation. 48 Earth upon earth is this thy store, Since but earth is all this gold. O God most high, Wherefore permittest thou such war That, as of yore, To Babel's kingdom from thy fold Thy creatures hie? 49 Was it not easier journeying At first, more free than that thou hast With all this train, Hampered and bowed with many a thing That now doth cling About thee, but which at the last Must here remain? 50 All is disgorged and left behind At the entrance to the tomb. Who, holy soul, doth thee thus blind Thyself to bind With such vain misfortune's doom? 51 _Soul._ Nay, this doth scarcely on me weigh: It is my poor weak mortal nature That bows me down. So weary am I, I must stay Nor go my way, So void of grace, so frail a creature Am I now grown. 52 Sir, go thy way: I cannot strive Nor hope now further to advance, So fallen I. _Angel._ But two steps more to where doth live She who will give To thee celestial sustenance Charitably. 53 Thither shalt thou go and rest, And shalt taste there of that fare New strength to borrow: Unrivalled is that hostess blest To give of the best To those who weeping come to her, Laden with sorrow. 54 _Soul._ Is it far off? _Angel._ Nay, very near. Be not downcast, but now be brave, And let us go, For every remedy and cheer Is certain here. And whatsoever thou wouldst have We can bestow. 55 Such grace is hers that nought can smirch, Such favours will she show to thee, That innkeeper. _Soul._ Her name? _Angel._ The Holy Mother Church. And holy doctors thou shalt see Are there with her. 56 Joyful thence shall thy going be, Filled then with the Holy Spirit And beautified: O soul, take heart, courageously One step for thee, Nay, scarce one step, and thou shalt merit To be a bride. 57 _Devil._ Stay, whither art thou going now? Such haste is mere unseemly rage And foolishness: What, thou so puffed with pride, canst thou Thus meekly bow To go on churchward e'er old age Doth on thee press? 58 Let pleasure, pleasure rule thy ways, For many hours in years to roll To thee are given, And when death comes to end thy days, If prayer thou raise, Then all sins that can vex a soul Shall be forgiven. 59 Look to thy wealth and property: There is a group of houses should Be thine by right, Great source of income would they be, Unhappily At thy parents' death the matter stood In no clear light. 60 The case is simple, 'tis averred Such lawsuits in a trice are won At laughter's spell: Next Tuesday let the case be heard And, in a word, Finish thou well what is begun. Be sensible. 61 _Soul._ O silence, for the love of God, Persecute me no more: thy hate Doth it not suffice High Heaven's heirs that it hinder should From their abode? My life to thee early and late I sacrifice. 62 But leave me: so I may efface The cruel wrong that shamelessly Thou hast thus wrought; For now I have scarce breathing-space To reach that place Where for this poison there may be Some antidote. 63 _Angel._ See the inn: a sure retreat, Even for all those a true home Who would have life. _Church._ O laden with sore toil and heat! O tired feet! _Soul._ Yea, for I destined was to come Weary of strife. 64 _Church._ Who art thou? whither wouldst thou win? _Soul._ I know not whither, outcast, fated At fortune's whim, A soul unholy, steepèd in Its mortal sin, Against the God who had created Me like to Him. 65 I am that soul ill-starred, unblest, That by nature shone in gleaming Robe of white, Of angel's beauty once possessed, Yea, loveliest, Like a ray refulgent streaming Filled with light. 66 And by my ill-omened fate, My atrocious devilries, Sins treasonous, More dead than death is now my state Bowed with this weight That nought can lighten, vanities Most poisonous. 67 I am a sinner obstinate, Perverse, that know no remedy For this my plight, Oppressed by guilt most obdurate, And profligate, Inclined to evil constantly And all delight. 68 And I banished from my lore All my perfect ornaments And natural graces, By prudence I set no store But evermore Rejoiced in all these vile vestments And worldly places. 69 At each step taken in earthly cares I further sank away from praise, Earning but blame: Have mercy upon one who fares Lost unawares: For, innocence lost, I might not raise Myself from shame. 70 And, for my greater evil, I Can no more repent me fully, Since in new mood My thoughts are mutinous and cry For liberty, Unwilling to obey me duly As once they would. 71 O help me, lady innkeeper, For Satan even now his hand Doth on me lay, And so grievously I err In my despair That I know not if I go or stand Or backward stray. 72 Succour thou my helplessness And strengthen me with holy fare, For I perish, Of thy noble saintliness Liberal to bless, For knowing my deserts I dare No hope to cherish. 73 I acknowledge all my sin And before thee meekly thus Forgiveness crave. O Lady, let me now but win Into thine inn, Since One suffered even for us, That He might save. 74 Bid me welcome, Mother holy, Shield of all who are forsaken Utterly. _Church._ Enter to thy seat there lowly, Yet come slowly, For the viands thou seest were baken By God most high. 75 Lo ye my pillars, doctor, saint, Ambrose, Thomas and Jerome And Augustine, In my service wax not faint, Nor show constraint, And to thee, soul, shall be welcome This fare of mine. 76 To the holy kitchen go: Let us this frail soul restore, That she find grace To reach her journey's end and know Her path, that so By God brought hither she no more Fail in life's race. (_Meanwhile Satan goes to and fro, cutting many capers, and another devil comes and says:_) 77 _2nd D._ You're like a lion in a cage. _1st D._ I'm all afire, with anger blind. _2nd D._ Why, what's the matter? _1st D._ To be so taken in, my rage Can nought assuage Nor any rest be to my mind; For, as I flatter 78 Myself, I had by honeyed word Deceived a certain soul, all quick For fires of Hell. _2nd D._ Who made you throw it overboard? _1st D._ He of the sword. _2nd D._ He played just such another trick On me as well. 79 For I had overcome a soul, Ready to hang itself, unsteady In its despair; Yes, it was given to us whole And I myself was making ready To drag't down there. 80 And lo he made it weep and weep So that the tears ran down along The very ground: You might have heard my curses deep And cries of rage echo among The hills around. 81 But I have hopes that what I've lost Some other day I shall regain, So will we all. _1st D._ I, brother, cannot share your trust, But I will tempt this soul again Whate'er befall. 82 With new promises will I woo her When from the Church she shall have come Forth to the street Upon her journey: I will to her, And beshrew her If I turn not all their triumph To defeat. (_The Soul enters with the Angel._) 83 _Soul._ O let not thy protection fail me, Guardian angel, help thy child. O foes most base, Infidels, why would you assail me Who to my God am reconciled And in His grace? 84 Leave me, O ye tempters, leave Unto this most precious feast Of Him who died, Served to sinners for reprieve Of those who grieve For their Redeemer Lord, the Christ And crucified. (_While the Soul is seated at the table and the Angel standing by her side, the Doctors come with four covered kitchen dishes, singing _Vexilla regis prodeunt_, and after placing them on the table, St Augustine says:_) 85 _St Aug._ Lady, thou that to this feast, Supper of celestial fare Nobly divine, Comest as a bidden guest, Must now divest Thyself of worldly thought and care That once were thine. 86 Thou thy body's eyes must close And in fetters sure be tied Fierce appetite, Treacherous guides, infernal foes: Thy ways are those That are a safe support and guide For the contrite. 87 _Church._ Sir, by thee be the table blest: In thy benedictory prayer, To bring relief And new strength to this our guest, Be there expressed The Passion's glory in despair And all its grief. 88 Thou, O soul, with orisons, The Virgin's sorrows contemplating Abide even there, And ye others make response Since for this have you been waiting Wrapped in prayer. (_St Augustine's prayer:_) 89 God whose might on high appears, Who camest to this world In human guise, In this vale of many fears And sullen tears Thy great glory hast unfurled Before our eyes; 90 And thy Son most delicate By His natural majesty Of divine birth, Ah, in blood and wounds prostrate Is now his state For our vile infirmity And little worth. 91 O Thou ruler of the sky, High God of power divine, Enduring might, Who for thy creature, man, to die Didst not deny Thy Godhead, and madest Thine Our mortal plight. 92 And thy daughter, mother, bride, Noble flower of the skies, The Virgin blest, Gentle Dove, when her Son died, God crucified, Ah what tears shed by those eyes Her grief attest. 93 O most precious tears that well From that virgin heart distilled One by one, Flowing at thy sorrow's spell They those perfect eyes have filled And still flow on. 94 Who but one of them might have In it most manifestly That grief to prove, Even that woe and suffering grave Which then overwhelmèd thee For thy dear love. 95 Fainting then with grief if failed Thy tears, yet Him they might not fail, Thy Life, thy Son, Who unto the Cross was nailed, Even fresh tears that could avail, In prayer begun. 96 For far greater woe was His When He saw thee faint and languish In thy distress, More than His own agonies, And doubled is All His torture at thy anguish Measureless. 97 For no words have ever told No prayer or litany wailed Such grief and loss: Our weak thought may not enfold Nor thee behold As thou wert when He was nailed Upon the Cross. 98 For to thee, O lovely face, Wherein Heaven's beauty shone, What woe was given When the Cross on high they place And thereupon Nailèd the Son of Heaven, Even thy Son! 99 Over the crowd's heads on high He who was ever thy delight Came to thy sight, To the Cross nailèd cruelly, Thou standing by, Thou the mother of Him who died There crucified! 100 O frail Queen of Holiness, Who would not thus weep to see Thee fainting fall And lie there all motionless, Thou patroness Who dost still uphold and free The life of all! 101 _St Ambrose._ Thus of yore did Jeremiah On Mount Sion make lament In days long spent, For he knew that the Messiah Was for our salvation sent. 102 And he mourned the misery Of ill-starred Jerusalem, The murderess, Who should kill unnaturally Her God born in Bethlehem Our life to bless. 103 _St Jerome._ O the Holy Lamb to see Humble amid the wolves' despite, With mockery fraught, Condemned to suffer cruelly Upon the Tree, And that face, so fair and white, Thus set at nought! _St Augustine. (He blesses the table.)_ 104 The Eternal Father's blessing rest, And of the Son, who suffered thus Even for us, And of the Spirit holiest, On thee our guest: Spirit immortal, Father, Son, The Three in One. 105 _Church._ Come now, bring water for the hands. _St Aug._ But thou must wash in tear on tear Shed for thy past sins' misery, Most thoroughly, And then to this fair towel here Thou mayst draw near, A towel that is kept for thee Worked cunningly 106 With finest silk in painlessness From out the Holy Virgin's veins That issuèd, Silk that was spun in bitterness And dark distress, And woven with increasing pains And finishèd. 107 Yet never shall thine eyes be dried: This pattern sad will ever make Thy tears downflow, Such stitches here on either side Doth it provide That one's very heart must break To see such woe. 108 Presented here thou mayest see With lovely face most natural --And seeing weep-- Embroiderèd with agony, O mystery! God fashioned, who created all, In human shape. (_The towel here described is the veronica, which St Augustine takes from among the dishes and shows to the Soul, and the Mother Church and the Doctors adore it on their knees, singing _Salve sancta Facies_, and the Mother Church then says:_) 109 _Church._ Let the first viand be brought. _St Jerome._ It was preparèd joylessly On a sad day, With no pleasure was it fraught, With suffering bought, And its cook was Cruelty, Eager to slay. 110 With seasoning of tears and shame Must this course by thee be eaten, Sorrowfully, Since the Messiah's holy frame, Pure, free from blame, Cruelly was scourged and beaten For love of thee. (_The viand so described consists of the scourge which at this stage is taken from the dishes and presented to the Soul and all kneel and adore, singing _Ave flagellum_; and Jerome then says:_) 111 _St Jerome._ This second viand of noble worth, This delicacy, Must be slowly eaten by thee In contemplation Of what the Lord of all the earth In agony Sufferèd for thy salvation. 112 This new torture suddenly He allowed to reach His brain, That so thy wit And sense might be restored to thee, That perished from thee utterly, Yea that thou Paradise mightst gain Endured He it. (_This second viand so described is the crown of thorns, and at this stage they take it from the plates, and kneeling the holy Doctors sing _Ave corona spinarum_ and afterwards the Mother Church says:_) 113 _Church._ Another bring in the same strain. _St Jerome._ This third viand that is brought to thee Was prepared thrice In places three, in each with gain Of subtler pain, With the wood of the Holy Tree, Wood of great price. 114 It must be eaten sorrowfully, Since the Virgin glorious Saw it garnished, Her treasure nailèd cruelly Then did she see, And her pearl most precious Pierced and tarnished. (_At this station St Augustine brings the nails and all kneel and adore them, singing _Dulce lignum, dulcis clavus_, and when the adoration is ended the Angel says to the Soul:_) 115 _Angel._ These trappings must thou lay aside, This new fare cannot, thou must know, Be eaten thus: By them are men's souls vilified And in their pride Puffed up with overweening show Presumptuous. (_The Soul casts off the dress and jewels that the enemy gave her._) 116 _St Augustine._ O soul, well counselled! well bestowed To each what is of each by right, And earth to earth: Now shalt thou speed along thy road, Free of this load, Faring by faith from this stern fight Victorious forth. 117 _Church._ To the last course I thee invite. _St Jerome._ This fourth viand is of a kind So seasonèd, It is of value infinite, Most exquisite, Prepared by the Divine mind And perfected: 118 Entrusted first in mystery To a holy virgin came from Heaven This secret thing, Encompassed by divinity And sanctity, Then to the Eternal Father given As offering. (_St Jerome presents to the Soul a Crucifix, which he takes from among the dishes, and the Doctors adore it, singing _Domine Jesu Christe_, and afterwards the Soul says:_) 119 _Soul._ With what heart and mind contrite May I praise Thee sadly now Who am nought, Seeing Thee, God infinite, To such plight Of suffering and sorrow bow, By my sin brought! 120 Lord, how art Thou crushed and broken, Thou, the Son of God, to die! And Thy death By whom ordered, by what token The word spoken Thee to judge and crucify, Who gav'st us breath? 121 _St Aug._ For the fruit to end this feast, On the altar given thee thus Lovingly, To the orchard go we all in quest, Where lies at rest The Redeemer, He who died for us And set us free. (_And all with the Soul, singing _Te deum laudamus_, went to adore the tomb._) LAVS DEO. EXHORTAÇÃO DA GUERRA _Exhortação da Guerra[154]._ _Interlocutores_: ¶ Nigromante, ZEBRON, DANOR, Diabos, POLICENA, PANTASILEA, ARCHILES, ANIBAL, EYTOR, CEPIAM. _A Tragicomedia seguinte seu nome he Exortação da guerra. Foi representada ao muyto alto & nobre Rey dom Manoel o primeyro em Portugal deste nome na sua cidade de Lixboa na partida pera Azamor do illustre & muy magnifico senhor dõ Gemes Duque de Bargança & de Guimarães, &c. Era de M.D.xiiij annos._ ¶ _Entra primeyramente hum clerigo nigromante & diz:_ CL. Famosos & esclarecidos principes mui preciosos, na terra vitoriosos & no ceo muyto queridos, 5 sou clerigo natural de Portugal, venho da coua Sebila onde se esmera & estila a sotileza infernal. 10 E venho muy copioso magico & nigromante, feyticeyro muy galante, astrologo bem auondoso. Tantas artes diabris 15 saber quis que o mais forte diabo darey preso polo rabo ao iffante Dom Luis. Sey modos dencantamentos 20 quaes nunca soube ninguem, artes para querer bem, remedios a pensamentos. Farey de hum coraçam duro mais que muro 25 como brando leytoayro, e farei polo contrayro que seja sempre seguro. Sou muy grande encantador, faço grandes marauilhas, 30 as diabolicas sillas sam todas em meu favor: farey cousas impossiveis muy terribeis, milagres muy euidentes 35 que he pera pasmar as gentes, visiueis & invisiueis. Farey que hũa dama esquiua por mais çafara que seja quando o galante a veja 40 que ella folgue de ser viua; farey a dous namorados mui penados questem cada hum per si, & cousas farey aqui 45 que estareis marauilhados. Farey por meo vintem que hũa dama muito fea que de noyte sem candea nam pareça mal nem bem; 50 e outra fermosa & bella como estrella farey por sino forçado que qualquer homem hõrrado nam lhe pesasse um ella. 55 Faruos ey mais pera verdes, por esconjuro perfeyto, que caseis todos a eyto o milhor que vos poderdes; e farey da noite dia 60 per pura nigromanciia se o sol alumear, & farey yr polo ar toda a van fantesia. Faruos ey todos dormir 65 em quanto o sono vos durar & faruos ey acordar sem a terra vos sentir; e farey hum namorado bem penado 70 se amar bem de verdade que lhe dure essa vontade atee ter outro cuydado. Faruos ey que desejeis cousas que estão por fazer, 75 e faruos ey receber na hora que vos desposeis, e farey que esta cidade estee pedra sobre pedra, e farey que quem nam medra 80 nunca t̃e prosperidade. Farey per magicas rasas chuuas tam desatinadas que estem as telhas deytadas pelos telhados das casas; 85 e farey a torre da See, assi grande como he, per graça da sua clima que tenha o alicesse ao pee & as ameas em cima. 90 Nam me quero mais gabar. Nome de San Cebriam esconjurote Satam. Senhores não espantar! Zeet zeberet zerregud zebet 95 oo filui soter rehe zezegot relinzet oo filui soter oo chaues das profundezas abri os porros da terra! 100 Princepe[*] da eterna treua pareçam tuas grandezas! conjurote Satanas, onde estaas, polo bafo dos dragões, 105 pola ira dos liões, polo valle de Jurafas. Polo fumo peçonhento que sae da tua cadeyra e pola ardente fugueyra, 110 polo lago do tormento esconjurote Satam, de coraçam, zezegot seluece soter, conjurote, Lucifer, 115 que ouças minha oraçam. Polas neuoas ardentes que estam nas tuas moradas, pollas poças pouoadas de bibaras & serpentes, 120 e pello amargo tormento muy sem tento que daas aos encacerados, pollos grytos dos danados que nunca cessam momento: 125 conjurote, Berzebu, pola ceguidade Hebrayca e polla malicia Judayca, com a qual te alegras tu, rezeegut Linteser 130 zamzorep tisal siroofee nafezeri. _Vêm os diabos Zebron & Danor & diz Zebron:_ _Z._ Que has tu, escomungado? _C._ Oo yrmãos, venhaes embora! _D._ Que nos queres tu agora? 135 _C._ Que me façaes hum mandado. _Z._ Polo altar de Satam, dom vilam. _D._ Tomoo por essas gadelhas & cortemoslhe as orelhas, 140 que este clerigo he ladram. _C._ Manos, nam me façaes mal, Compadres, primos, amigos! _Z._ Não te temos em dous figos. _C._ Como vay a Belial? 145 sua corte estaa em paz? _D._ Dalhe aramaa hum bofete, crismemos este rapaz & chamemoslhe Zopete. _C._ Ora fallemos de siso: 150 estais todos de saude? _Z._ Fideputa, meo almude, que t̃es tu de ver com isso? _C._ Minhas potencias relaxo & me abaxo, 155 falayme doutra maneyra. _D._ Sois bispo vos da Landeyra ou vigayro no Cartaxo? _Z._ He Cura do Lumear, sochantre da Mealhada, 160 acipreste de canada, bebe sem desfolegar. _D._ É capelão terrantees, bom Ingres, patriarca em Ribatejo 165 beberaa sobre hum cangrejo as guelas dũ Frances. _Z._ Danor, dime, he Cardeal Darruda ou de Caparica? _D._ Nenhũa cousa lhe fica 170 senam sempre o vaso tal, tem um grande Arcebispado muito honrrado junto da pedra da estrema onda põe a diadema 175 & a mitra o tal prelado. Ladram, sabes o Seyxal & Almada & pereli? Oo fideputa alfaqui albardeyro do Tojal. 180 _C._ Diabos, quereis fazer o que eu quiser por bem ou de outra feyçam? _D._ Oo fideputa ladram auemoste dobedecer. 185 _C._ Ora eu vos mando & remando pollas virtudes dos ceos polla potencia de Deos, em cujo seruiço ando, conjurouos da sua parte 190 sem mais arte que façais o que eu mandar polla terra & pollo ar, aqui & em toda a parte. _Z._ Como te vai com as terças? 195 É viuo aquelle alifante que foy a Roma tão galante? _D._ Amargamte a ti estas verças? _C._ Esconjurote, Danor, por amor de sam Paulo 200 e de sam Polo. _Z._ Tu não tens nenhum miolo. _C._ Eu vos farey vir a dor. Por esta madre de Deos de tão alta dinidade, 205 & polla sua humildade, com que abrio os altos ceos, polas veas virginaes emperiaes de que Christo foi humanado. 210 _Z._ Que queres, escomungado? Mandanos, nam digas mais. _C._ Minha merce mãda & ordena que tragais logo essas horas diante destas senhoras 215 a Troyana Policena muyto bem atauiada & concertada, assi linda como era. _D._ Quanta pancada te dera 220 se pudera, mas t̃esma força quebrada. _C._ Venha por mar ou por terra logo muyto sem referta. _Z._ E a terça da offerta 225 tambem pagas pera a guerra? _C._ Trazei logo a Policena muy sem pena com sua festa diante. _Z._ Inda yraa outro alifante: 230 pagaraas quarto & vintena. _Vem Policena & diz:_ _P._ Eu que venho aqui fazer? Oo que gran pena me destes pois por força me trouxestes a um nouo padecer: 235 que quem viue sem ventura, em gram tristura ver prazeres lhee mais morte. Oo belenissima corte, senhora da fermosura! 240 Nam foy o paço Troyano dino de vosso primor: vejo hum Priamo mayor hum Cesar muy soberano, outra Ecuba mais alta, 245 mui sem falta, em poderosa, doce, humana, a quem por Febo & Diana cada vez Deos mais esmalta. E vos, Principe excelente, 250 dayme aluisaras liberais, que vossas mostras são tais que todo mundo he contente, e aos planetas dos ceos mandou Deos 255 que vos dessem tais fauores que em grandeza sejais vos prima dos antecessores. Por vos, mui fermosa flor, Iffante Dona Isabel 260 Foram juntos em torpel por mandando do senhor o ceo & sua companhia & julgou Jupiter juiz que fosseis Emperatriz 265 de Castella & Alemanha. Senhor Iffante Dom Fernãdo, vosso sino he de prudencia, Mercurio per excelencia fauorece vosso bando, 270 sereis rico & prosperado e descansado, sem cuydado & sem fadiga, & sem guerra & sem briga: isto vos estaa guardado. 275 Iffante Dona Breatiz, vos sois dos sinos julgada que aueis de ser casada nas partes de flor de lis: mais bem do que vos cuydais, 280 muyto mais, vos tem o mundo guardado. Perdey, senhores, cuydado pois com Deos tanto priuais. _C._ Que dizeis vos destas rosas, 285 deste val de fermosura? _P._ Tal fora minha ventura como ellas sam de fermosas! Oo que corte tam lozida & guarnecida 290 de lindezas para olhar! quem me pudera ficar nesta gloriosa vida! _D._ Nesta vida! la acharaas. _P._ Quem me trouxe a este fado? 295 _D._ Esse zote escomungado te trouxe aqui onde estaas. Perguntalhe que te quer para ver. _P._ Homem, a que me trouxeste? 300 _C._ Quee? ainda agora vieste e has me de responder! Declara a estes senhores, pois foste damor ferida, qual achaste nesta vida 305 que é a moor dor das dores, e se as penas infernaes se sam aas do amor yguaes, ou se dam la mais tormentos dos que ca dam pensamentos 310 e as penas que nos daes. _P._ Muyto triste padecer no inferno sinto eu mas a dor que o amor me deu nunca a mais pude esqueecer. 315 _C._ Que manhas, que gentileza ha de ter o bom galante? _P._ A primeyra he ser constante, fundado todo em firmeza; nobre, secreto, calado, 320 soffrido em ser desdañado, sempre aberto o coração pera receber payxão mas nam pera ser mudado. Ha de ser mui liberal, 325 todo fundado em franqueza, esta he a mor gentileza do amante natural: porque é tam desuiada ser o escasso namorado 330 como estar fogo em geada ou hũa cousa pintada ser o mesmo encorporado. Ha de ser o seu comer dous bocados suspirando 335 & dormir meo velando sem de todo adormecer. Ha de ter muy doces modos, humano, cortessa todos, seruir sem esperar della, 340 que quem ama com cautela não segue a t̃eçam dos Godos. _C._ Qual he a cousa principal porque deue ser amado? _P._ Que seja mui esforçado, 345 isto he o que mais lhe val. Porque hum velho dioso, feo e muyto tossegoso, se na guerra tem boa fama com a mais fermosa dama 350 merece de ser ditoso. Senhores guerreyros, guerreyros! & vos senhoras guerreyras bandeyras & não gorgueyras lauray pera os caualeyros. 355 Que assi nas guerras Troyãs eu mesma & minhas irmaãs teciamos os estandartes bordados de todas partes com diuisas mui loucaãs. 360 Com cantares e alegrias dauamos nossos colares e nossas joias a pares per essas capitanias. Renegay dos desfiados 365 & dos pontos enleuados destruase aquella terra dos perros arrenegados. Oo quem vio Pantasileea com quarenta mil donzellas, 370 armadas como as estrellas no campo de Palomea. _C._ Venha aqui: trazeyma ca. _Z._ Deyxanos yeramaa. _C._ Ora sus, questais fazendo? 375 _D._ O' diabo que teu encomendo & quem tal poder te daa. _Entra Pantiselea e diz:_ _P._ Que quereis e esta chorosa rainha Pantasilea, aa penada, triste, fea, 380 pera corte tam fermosa? Porque me quereis vos ver diante vosso poder, rey das grandes marauilhas que com pequenas quadrilhas 385 venceis quem quereis vencer? Se eu, senhor, forra me vira, do inferno solta agora, e fora de mi senhora, meu senhor, eu vos seruira, 390 empregara bem meus dias em vossas capitanias, & minha frecha dourada fora bem auenturada & nam nas guerras vazias. 395 Oo famoso Portugal conhece teu bem profundo, pois atee o Polo segundo chega o teu poder real. Auante, auante, senhores, 400 pois que com grandes favores todo o ceo vos fauorece: el Rey de Fez esmorece, & Marrocos daa clamores. Oo deixay de edificar 405 tantas camaras dobradas Muy pintadas & douradas. Que he gastar sem prestar. Alabardas, alabardas! espingardas, espingardas! 410 Nam queyrais ser Genoeses senam muyto Portugueses & morar em casas pardas. Cobray fama de ferozes, nam de ricos, que he perigosa, 415 douray a patria vossa com mais nozes que as vozes. Auante, auante Lisboa! que por todo mundo soa tua prospera fortuna: 420 pois que fortuna temfuna faze sempre de pessoa. Archiles, que foy daqui de perto desta cidade, chamay-o: diraa a verdade 425 se não quereis crer a mi. _C._ Ora sus, sus digo eu. _Z._ Este clerigo he sandeu. Onde estou que o nam crismo! oo fideputa judeu 430 queres vazar o abismo? _Vem Archiles & diz:_ _A._ Quando Jupiter estaua em toda sua fortaleza & seu gran poder reynaua & seu braço dominaua 435 os cursos da natureza; quando Martes influya seus rayos de vencimento & suas forças repartia; quando Saturno dormia 440 com todo seu firmamento; e quando o Sol mais lozia & seus rayos apuraua & a Lũa aparecia mais clara que o meo dia; 445 & quando Venus cãtaua, e quando Mercurio estaua mais pronto em dar sapiencia; & quando o ceo se alegraua & o mar mais manso estaua 450 & os ventos em clemencia; e quando os sinos estauam com mais gloria & alegria & os poolos senfeytauam & as nuũes se tirauam 445 & a luz resplandecia; e quando a alegria vera foy em todas naturezas, nesse dia, mes & era quando tudo isto era 460 naceram vossas altezas. Eu Archiles fuy criado nesta terra muytos dias & sam bem auenturado ver este reyno exalçado 465 & honrrado por tantas vias. Oo nobres seus naturaes, por Deos nam vos descudees, lembreuos que triumphaes; oo prelados, nam dormais! 470 clerigos, nam murmureis! Quando Roma a todas velas conquistaua toda a terra todas, donas & donzelas, dauam suas joyas belas 475 pera manter os da guerra. Oo pastores da Ygreja moura a ceyta de Mafoma, ajuday a tal peleja que açoutados vos veja 480 sem apelar pera Roma. Deueis devender as taças, empenhar os breuiayros, fazer vasos de cabaças & comer pão & rabaças 485 por vencer vossos contrayros. _Z._ Assi, assi, aramaa! dom zote, que te parece? _C._ E a mi que se me daa? quem de seu renda nam ha 490 as terças pouco lhe empece. _A._ Se viesse aqui Anibal e Eytor e Cepiam vereis o que vos diram das cousas de Portugal 495 com verdade & com razam. _C._ Sus Danor, e tu Zebram: venham todos tres aqui. _D._ Fideputa, rapaz, cam, perro, clerigo, ladram! 500 _Z._ Mao pesar vejeu de ti. _Vem Anibal, Eytor, Cepiam & diz Anibal:_ _A._ Que cousa tam escusada he agora aqui Anibal, que vossa corte he afamada per todo mundo em geral. 505 _E._ Nem Eytor nam faz mister. _C._ Nem tampouco Cepiam. _A._ Deueis, senhores, esperar em Deos que vos ha de dar toda Africa na vossa mão. 510 Africa foi de Christãos, Mouros vola tem roubada: Capitães, pondelhas mãos, que vos vireis mais louçãos com famosa nomeada. 515 Oo senhoras Portuguesas, gastay pedras preciosas, donas, donzelas, duquesas, que as taes guerras & empresas sam propriamente vossas. 520 É guerra de deuaçam por honrra de vossa terra, commettida com rezam, formada com descriçam contra aquella gente perra. 525 Fazey contas de bugalhos, & perlas de camarinhas, firmaes de cabeças dalhos; isto si, senhoras minhas, & esses que tendes daylhos. 530 Oo ̃q nam honrram vestidos nem muy ricos atauios mas os feytos nobrecidos, nam briaes douro tecidos com trepas de desuarios: 535 dayos pera capacetes. & vos, priores honrrados, reparti os Priorados a soyços & soldados, _& centum pro vno accipietis_. 540 A renda que apanhais o milhor que vos podeis nas ygrejas nam gastais, aos proues pouca dais, eu nam sey que lhe fazeis. 545 Day a terça do que ouuerdes pera Africa conquistar com mais prazer que poderdes, que quanto menos tiuerdes menos tereis que guardar. 550 Oo senhores cidadãos Fidalgos & regedores escutay os atambores com ouuidos de Christãos! E a gente popular 555 auante! nam refusar! Ponde a vida & a fazenda, porque pera tal contenda ninguem deue recear. _Todas estas figuras se ordenaram em caracol & a vozes cantaram & representaram o que se segue, cantando todos:_ Ta la la la lam, ta la la la lam. 560 _A._ Auante, auante! senhores! que na guerra com razam anda Deos de capitam. _Cãtã._ Ta la la la lam, ta la la la lam. _A._ Guerra, guerra, todo estado! 565 guerra, guerra muy cruel! que o gran Rey Dom Manoel contra Mouros estaa viado. Tem promettido & jurado dentro no seu coraçam 570 que poucos lhescaparão. _Cãtã._ Ta la la la lam, ta la la la lam. _Anfalado._ Sua Alteza detremina por acrescentar a fee fazer da Mesquita See 575 em Fez por graça diuina. Guerra, guerra muy contina he sua grande tençam. _Cãtã._ Ta la la la lam, ta la la la lam. _A._ Este Rey tam excelente, 580 muyto bem afortunado, tem o mundo rodeado doriente ao Ponente: Deos mui alto, omnipotente, o seu real coraçam 585 tem posto na sua mão. _Cãtã._ Ta la la la lam, ta la la la lam. _E com esta soyça se sayram e fenece a susodita Tragicomedia._ NOTES: 0. _Era de M.D.xiiij_ A. 1513 C, D, E. 25. _leituairo_ C. 100. _Princepes_ A. 117. _estan_ A. 118. _pocas_ A. 119. _viboras_ C. 131. _Lisó fé_ C. 148. _zobete_ C. 167. _Cardial_ C. 221. _tens-me a_ C. 238. _bellenissima_ C. 260. _tropel_ C. 346. _idoso_ C. 347. _muito socegado_ C. 375. _Ó Diabo qu'eu t'encommendo_ C. 515. _senhores Portugueses_ A. FOOTNOTES: [154] This play was omitted in B. ENGLISH TRANSLATION: _Exhortation to War._ _Dramatis personae_: A necromancer, ZEBRON and DANOR, devils, POLYXENA, PENTHESILEA, ACHILLES, HANNIBAL, HECTOR, SCIPIO. _The following tragicomedy is called Exhortation to War. It was played before the very high and noble King Dom Manuel I of Portugal in his city of Lisbon on the departure for Azamor of the illustrious and very magnificent Lord Dom James, Duke of Braganza, Guimarães, etc., in the year 1513._ ¶ _A necromancer priest first enters and says:_ Princes of most noble worth, To whom high renown is given, Who, victorious on earth, Are beloved of God in Heaven, 5 I a priest am and my home Is Portugal, From the Sibyl's cave I come Where fumes diabolical Are distilled and brought to birth. 10 In magic and necromancy I'm a skilled practitioner, A most accomplished sorcerer, Well versed in astrology. In so many a devil's art 15 Would I have part That o'er the strongest I'll prevail And just seize him by the tail And hand him to prince Luis there. Sorcerers of past time ne'er 20 Knew the enchantments that I know, Ways of making love to grow And of freeing from love's care. For of hearts I will take one Harder than stone 25 And will it soft as syrup make, And so change others, to changes prone, That nothing shall their firmness shake. Truly a great wizard I And great marvels can I work, 30 All the powers of Hell that lurk Favour me exceedingly, As deeds impossible shall attest Of awful shape, Miracles most manifest 35 Such that all shall see and gape, Visibly and invisibly. For I'll make a lady coy, Though love's guerdon she defer, If her lover look on her, 40 The very breath of life enjoy; And two lovers, love's curse under Kept asunder, Will I leave to grieve apart, And achieve by this my art 45 Things at which you'll gaze in wonder. For a lady most ungainly For a halfpenny at night Will I cause without a light To look nor ill nor well too plainly. 50 To another loveliest, As star in heaven Shall this destiny be given That of noblest men and best None against her love protest. 55 And the better to display The perfection of my spell I'll cause you all to marry well, That is, I mean, as best you may; And I'll turn night into day 60 All by this good art of mine, If the sun should chance to shine, And, too, light as air shall be Every foolish fantasy. I will cause you all to sleep 65 While sleep has you in its keeping, And I'll cause you to awake Without therefore the earth quaking; And a lover by the thorn Of love forlorn 70 If most real be his love I will make his fancy prove Steadfast till it be forsworn. I will make you wish to see Things which scarcely can be parried, 75 And when each of you is married Then truly shall his wedding be. And I'll make this city stand Stone o'er stone on either hand, And that those who do not flourish 80 No prosperity shall nourish. For my magic art's more proof I'll bring mighty rains whereat All the tiles shall lie down flat Above the houses, on the roof. 85 And the great Cathedral tower For all its size will I uproot And despite its special power Its battlements on high will put, Its foundation at its foot. 90 In my praise no more be said. In St Cyprian's name most holy, Satan, I conjure thee. (Gentlemen, be not afraid.) Zeet zeberet zerregud zebet 95 oo filui soter rehe zezegot relinzet oo filui soter. Keys of the depths, abysses rending, Open up Earth's every pore! 100 Prince of Darkness never-ending, Show thy great works evermore! Satan, wheresoe'er thou be, I conjure thee By the mighty dragons' breath 105 And the raging lions' roar And Jehoshaphat's vale of death. By the smoke that issueth Poisonous from out thy chair, By the fire that none may slake, 110 By the torments of thy lake, From my heart right earnestly Satan, I conjure thee, Zezegot seluece soter, Unto thee my prayer I make, 115 Lucifer, listen to my prayer! By the mists of liquid fire That thy regions drear distil, By the vipers, snakes that fill All its wells, abysses dire, 120 By the pangs relentlessly Given by thee To the prisoners of thy pit, By the shrieks of those in it That unceasing echo still, 125 Beelzebub, I thee invite By the blindness of the Jews Who the wrong in malice choose And thereby thy heart delight rezeegut Linteser 130 zamzorep tisal siroofee nafezeri. _The devils Zebron and Danor come and Zebron says:_ _Z._ What's the matter, priest accursed? _P._ Welcome, brothers, welcome first. _D._ What now with us wouldst thou have? 135 _P._ That my bidding you should do. _Z._ By Satan's altar, this thou'lt rue, Arrogant knave. _D._ Come, I'll seize him by the hair And off with his ears at least, 140 For a robber is this priest. _P._ Hurt me not, good brothers, cease, Comrades, cousins, friends, I pray. _Z._ Not two figs for you we care. _P._ How is Belial to-day? 145 And his court, is it at peace? _D._ With a box o' the ear chastise him, Even so will we baptise him And we'll christen him a fool. _P._ Come, let's speak more seriously: 150 Are you all quite well and cool? _Z._ Villain, wineskin, Bacchus' tool, What has that to do with thee? _P._ Nay, my powers I'll efface, Myself abase, 155 Only speak not thus to me. _D._ Do you hold Landeira's see Or are you Cartaxo's vicar? _Z._ He's priest of Lumear, I think, Mealhada's precentor he, 160 Archpriest of a pint of liquor Since he ceases not to drink. _D._ And this chaplain of our town Is a good Englishman, for mark, This Ribatejo Patriarch 165 Will drink even a Frenchman down, And nothing think of it at all. _Z._ Danor, say, is he Cardinal Of Arruda or Caparica? _D._ He has nought left thin or thick 170 Save always his glass of liquor And a great Archbishopric, An honour given but to few Near the boundary stone, the same On which he sets his diadem, 175 This prelate, and his mitre too. Dost thou know Seixal, thou thief, Almada and thereabouts? Tojal packsaddler, of louts And of villain knaves the chief. 180 _P._ Devils, will you now in brief My bidding do Or must I take other ways with you? _D._ Cursèd robber, only say What you'd have and we'll obey. 185 _P._ I command you instantly By the power of the sky And the might of God on high, In whose service priest I am, I conjure you in His name 190 That you my behests obey Now straightway, On the earth and in the air, Here and there and everywhere. _Z._ How are the tithes, and--another matter-- 195 Is the fine elephant alive That went to Rome for the Pope to shrive? _D._ Are your feelings hurt by this chatter? _P._ Danor, now I conjure thee By Saint Pol and by Saint Paul 200 Hearken to me. _Z._ Your intelligence is small. _P._ Then shall you hark unwillingly. By the Mother of God most holy And her heavenly dignity, 205 Her humility on earth That had power to scale high Heaven, And her own imperial worth Whereby in the Virgin birth The incarnate Christ to earth was given. 210 _Z._ Say no more, accursed knave, We'll obey: what wouldst thou have? _P._ 'Tis my will and my desire That unto those ladies there This very hour you should have care 215 Polyxena of Troy to bring: Come she, for beauty's heightening, In rich attire, Fair as she was fair of yore. _D._ With what a thrashing shouldst thou rue it 220 Could I but do it. But thou hast taken my strength away. _P._ Let her come by land or sea Straightway and most peacefully. _Z._ And as to subscriptions for the war 225 Hast thou any tithe to pay? _P._ Without delay Polyxena bring And joyfully Before her shall you dance and sing. _Z._ They'll send another elephant yet 230 And you'll have to pay the tax for it. _Polyxena comes and says:_ _Pol._ Wherefore hither am I come? O how great my affliction is Since against my will you bring Me to further suffering. 235 For he who lives in misery's stress Can but borrow From seen pleasures a new sorrow. But what a fairy court is this In which beauty has its home! 240 The palace of Troy was not your peer Nor rival in magnificence, I see a greater Priam here Cesar of sovran excellence, A Hecuba of nobler mien, 245 A flawless queen In power humanely gentle: hence Apollo's and Diana's reign Heaven confirmeth in the twain. And you, Prince most excellent, 250 Give me liberal reward: From your promise is none debarred, It fills all men with content, And the planets of Heaven's abode Had word of God 255 That to you be greatness sent And fortune's favour even more Than to those who reigned before. And for you, most lovely flower, Princess Dona Isabel, 260 The Lord of Heaven in His power Marshalled in host innumerable The sky and all its company, And Jove as judge did then ordain That as empress you should reign 265 O'er Castille and Germany. You, O Prince Dom Ferdinand, Since prudence is your special share And with favourable wand Mercury holds you in his arms, 270 Wealth and prosperity shall bless In quietness Without toil or any care, Turmoil or loud war's alarms: This for you the gods have planned. 275 For you, Princess Beatrice, Your sure destiny it is To be married happily Unto France's fleur-de-lys. And the world has more in store 280 For you, yea more Than you imagine shall be given. Princes, leave all cares of yore Since you have the ear of Heaven. _P._ What say you to the roses there 285 And this vale of loveliness? _Pol._ Would that fortune were no less Fair to me than they are fair! How gleams the Court in radiancy, What an array 290 Of beauty is there here to see! O that it were given me Ever in this life to stay! _D._ In _this_ life! Thine another school. _Pol._ Who brought me to this destiny? 295 _D._ That excommunicated fool, Thou camest here at his suggestion. Ask him what he wants of thee, Just to see. _Pol._ Why then have you brought me here? 300 _P._ What, no sooner you appear Than you would begin to question! Tell these lordlings instantly, Since you suffered from love's wound, What in this life here you found 305 The greatest of all woes to be, Tell them if the pains of Hell Be as deep as those of love, Or if torments there excel Those that here from love's thoughts well, 310 Griefs that every lover prove. _Pol._ Awful in intensity Are Hell's tortures unto me, Grievously I suffer, yet Ne'er could I love's wound forget. 315 _P._ What the arts and qualities That should a true lover grace? _Pol._ Constancy has the first place And resolution; and, with these, Noble must he be, discreet, 320 Silent, patient of disdain With heart e'er open to love's strain In passion's service to compete, But not to change and change again. And he must be liberal, 325 Generous exceedingly, Since there is no quality That for lovers is so meet. For to a lover avarice Is as uncongenial 330 As would be a fire in ice Or if a picture were to be Itself and its original For his food he must but take A mouthful barely, and with sighs, 335 And when he asleeping lies He must still be half awake. Very gentle-mannered he, Humane and courteous, must be And serve his lady without hope, 340 For he who loveth grudgingly Proves himself of little scope. _P._ What his qualities among Should most bring him love for love? _Pol._ That he should be brave and strong, 345 That will his best vantage prove. For a man advanced in years, Ill-favoured though be and weak, If name famed in war he bears Even in the fairest lady's ears 350 Should for him his actions speak. On, on ye lords, to war, to war! And ladies not as heretofore Embroider wimples for your wear But banners for the knights to bear. 355 For thus amid the wars of Troy I and my sisters did employ Our time and all our artifice: Standards, with many a fair device Embroidered, did we weave for them; 360 And on them lavished many a gem And gaily with glad songs of joy Our necklaces we freely gave, Tiara and diadem. Then leave your points and hem-stitch leave, 365 Your millinery and your lace, And utterly from off earth's face These renegade dogs destroy. O to see Penthesilea again With forty thousand warriors, 370 Armed maidens gleaming like the stars On the Palomean plain. _P._ Come bring her here this very hour. _Z._ Cannot you leave us one instant alone? _P._ What are you doing? Come on, come on. 375 _D._ To the devil would I see you gone And whoso gives you this power. _Penthesilea enters and says:_ _Pen._ What would you of this hapless queen Penthesilea woe-begone, Who in tears and sorrow thus appear 380 Ill-favoured in this court's fair sheen? Why should you wish to see me here Before your high imperial throne, Great king of marvels, who alone With your small armies scatter still 385 Your victories abroad at will? Were I now, Sir, at liberty, From Hell's grim dominion free And mistress of my destiny I would serve you willingly. 390 All my days would I spend then With your armies to my gain, My golden arrow then with zest Would serve you in a service blest And not in useless wars and vain. 395 O renownèd Portugal, Learn to know thy noble worth Since thy power imperial Reaches to the ends of Earth. Forward, forward, lord and knight 400 Since Heaven's favours on you crowd, Forward, forward in your might That doth the King of Fez affright, And Morocco cries aloud. O cease ye eagerly to build 405 So many a richly furnished chamber, And to paint them and to gild. Money so spent will nothing yield. With halberds only now remember And with rifles to excel. 410 Not for Genoese fashions strive But as Portuguese to live And in houses plain to dwell. As fierce warriors win renown, Not for wealth most perilous, 415 Give your country a golden crown Of deeds, not words that mock at us. Forward, Lisbon! All descry Thy good fortune far and nigh, And the fame thou dost inherit, 420 Since fortune raises thee on high, Win it sturdily by merit. Achilles when he went away From near this city went, Call him: you'll hear truth evident 425 If you doubt what I have said. _P._ Let him come up, come up, I say. _Z._ This priest has gone quite off his head. I don't know what I am about That I don't give the Jew a clout: 430 Would you empty Hell of its dead? _Achilles comes and says:_ _A._ When Jupiter in all his might Was seated on his throne And in his strength ordered aright By his right hand alone 435 The courses of the day and night; And warrior Mars to Earth had lent His bolts of victory And parted with his armament; When Saturn still slept peacefully 440 With all his firmament; When the Sun shone with clearer light And an intenser ray And the Moon's beams illumed the night, More brightly than noonday, 445 And Venus sang her loveliest lay; When wisdom, that he now doth keep, Was given by Mercury, And mirth flashed o'er the heaven's steep And the winds were gently hushed asleep 450 And a calm lay on the sea; When joy and fame together checked The hands of destiny And glory's flags the poles bedecked And the heavens, by no clouds beflecked, 455 Gleamed in their radiancy; When every heart with unfeigned cheer Was merry upon Earth, In that day and month and year, When all these portents did appear, 460 Your Highnesses had birth. Now I, Achilles, in my youth Lived here for many days And happy am I in good sooth To see the kingdom's splendid growth 465 Honoured in countless ways. Its noble sons these honours reap, But let no careless strain Prevent you what you win to keep; Ye prelates, 'tis no time for sleep! 470 Ye priests, do not complain! When mighty Rome was in full sail Conquering all the Earth The girls and matrons without fail, That so the soldiers should prevail, 475 Gave all their jewels' worth. Then O ye shepherds of the Church Down, down with Mahomet's creed! Leave not the fighters in the lurch! For if to scourge yourselves you speed 480 Then Rome may spare the birch. You should sell your chalices, Yes and pawn your breviaries, Turn your gourds into flasks, and e'er Of bread and parsnips make your fare, 485 To vanquish thus your enemies. _Z._ Aha, aha. A splendid rule! What do you think of that, Sir Fool? _P._ What is't to me? what should I care? For he who has no revenues 490 Can by the tithes but little lose. _A._ If hither came but Hannibal, Hector and Scipio You shall see what they will show Of the things of Portugal, 495 What reason and truth would have you know. _P._ Come Danor, and Zebron, hither Bring all three of them together. _D._ Rascal cleric, villain, cur, Thief, dog, that I for you should stir! 500 _Z._ May a curse your power wither! _Hannibal, Hector and Scipio come, and Hannibal says:_ _Han._ Easily you might forego Poor Hannibal's presence here, For your Court's fame far and near The furthest of Earth's regions know. 505 _Hect._ Nor need Hector here appear. _S._ Nor is there room for Scipio. _Han._ Sirs, you should trust in God, that he All Africa presently Will reduce beneath your sway. 510 Africa was Christian land, Moors have ta'en your own away. To the work, Captains, set your hand, For so with clearer ray shall burn Your renown when you return. 515 And, O ladies of Portugal, Spend, spend jewel and precious stone, Duchesses, ladies, maidens, all Since such enterprises shall Properly be yours alone. 520 A religious war it is For the honour of your land, Against those vile enemies, Undertaken reasonably And with good discretion planned. 525 Of beads be every rosary, Each pearl replaced by bilberry, Brooches of the heads of leek; Such ornaments, my ladies, seek And those you have give every one. 530 For little honour now is there In dresses and adornments fair, Honour give noble deeds alone, Not costly robes inwrought with gold And pranked with trimmings manifold: 535 Give these now to help helmets make. And ye, good priors, I bid you take And divide all that you hold Among the soldiers of the guard And great shall be your reward. 540 For of the income you obtain By whatever means you may The churches have but little gain, And from alms you still abstain: How you spend it who shall say? 545 For the conquest of Africa Give a tithe of your possessions, Give it, if you can, with pleasure, For the less you have of treasure The less need you fear oppressions. 550 And O rulers and noblemen, Yea and every citizen, Listen, listen to the drums, Hark to them with Christian ears! And ye people, hold not back, 555 Forward, forward to the attack! Give your lives and your incomes, For in such a conflict holy None should harbour any fears. _All these figures ordered themselves in winding circles and by turns sang and acted the following, all singing:_ Ta la la la lam, ta la la la lam. 560 _Hannibal._ On, on! go forward, lord and knight, Since in war waged for the right God as Captain leads the fight. _They sing._ Ta la la la lam, ta la la la lam. _H._ To war, to war, both rich and poor, 565 To war, to war, most ruthlessly Since the great King Manuel's wrath Is gone forth against the Moor. And he sworn and promised hath In his inmost heart that he 570 Will destroy them from his path. _They sing._ Ta la la la lam, ta la la la lam. _H._ And his Highness for a sign Of our Holy Faith's increase Wills that at Fez by grace divine 575 The mosque shall a cathedral be. War, war ever without cease Is his purpose mightily. _They sing._ Ta la la la lam, ta la la la lam. _H._ This our King most excellent 580 And with great good fortune blest Is lord of every continent From the East unto the West: And the high God omnipotent In his gracious keeping still 585 Guards his royal heart from ill. _They sing._ Ta la la la lam, ta la la la lam. _And with this chorus they went out and the above Tragicomedy ends._ FARSA DOS ALMOCREVES _Farça dos Almocreves._ _Esta seguinte farsa foy feyta & representada ao muyto poderoso & excelente Rey dom Ioam o terceyro em Portugal deste nome na sua cidade de Coimbra na era do S̃ehor de MDXXVI. Seu fundamento he que hum fidalgo de muyto pouca renda vsaua muyto estado, tinha capelam seu & ouriuez seu, & outros officiaes, aos quaes nunca pagaua. E vendose o seu capelam esfarrapado & sem nada de seu entra dizendo:_ _Capelã._ ¶ Pois que nam posso rezar por me ver tão esquipado por aqui por este Arnado quero hum pouco passear por espaçar meu cuydado, e grosarey o romance de Yo me estaba en Coimbra pois Coimbra assim nos cimbra que nam ha quem preto alcance. 10 ¶ Yo me estaba en Coimbra cidade bem assentada, pelos campos de Mondego nam vi palha nem ceuada. Quando aquilo vi mezquinho entendi que era cilada contra os cauallos da corte & minha mula pelada. Logo tiue a mao sinal tanta milham apanhada 20 e a peso de dinheiro: ó mula desemparada! Vi vir ao longo do rio hũa batalha ordenada, nam de gentes mas de mus, com muita raya pisada. A carne estaa em Bretanha & as couves em Biscaya. Sam capelam dum fidalgo que nam tem renda nem nada; 30 quer ter muytos aparatos & a casa anda esfaymada, toma ratinhos por pag̃es anda ja a cousa danada. Querolhe pedir licença, pagueme minha soldada. ¶ _Chega o capelam a casa do fidalgo, & falando com elle diz:_ _Cap._ ¶ Senhor, ja seraa rezam. _Fid._ Auante, padre, falay. _C._ Digo que em tres annos vay que sam vosso capelam. 40 _F._ He grande verdade, auante. _C._ Eu fora ja do ifante, e podera ser del Rey. _F._ A bofé, padre, não sey. _C._ Si, senhor, que eu sou destante Aindaque ca mempreguei. ¶ Ora pois veja, senhor, que he o que me ha de dar, porque alem do altar seruia de comprador. 50 _F._ Nam volo ey de negar. Fazeyme hũa petiçam de tudo o que requereis. _C._ Senhor, nam me perlongueis, que isso nam traz concrusam nem vejo que a quereis. ¶ Porque me fiz polo vosso clericus & negoceatores. _F._ Assi vos dey eu fauores & disso pouco que eu posso 60 vos fiz mais que outros señores. Ora um clerigo que mais quer de renda nem outro bem que darlhe homem de comer, que he cada dia hum vintem, & mais muyto a seu prazer? ¶ Ora a honrra que se monta: he capelam de foam! _C._ E do vestir nam fazeis conta, & esse comer com payxam, 70 & dormir com tanta afronta que a coroa jaz no cham sem cabeçal, e aa hũa hora, & missa sempre de caça? & por vos cayr em graça serviauos tambem de fora, atee comprar sibas na praça; ¶ E outros carregozinhos desonestos pera mi. Isto, senhor, he assi. 80 & azemel nesses caminhos, arre aqui & arre ali, & ter carrego dos gatos & dos negros da cozinha & alimparvolos çapatos & outras cousas que eu fazia. _F._ ¶ Assi fiey eu de vos toda a minha esmolaria & daueis polo amor de Deos sem vos tomar conta hum dia. 90 _C._ Dos tres annos que eu alego dalaey logo sem pendenças: mandastes dar a hum cego hum real por Endoenças. _F._ Eu isso nam volo nego. _C._ ¶ E logo dahi a um anno pera ajuda de casar hũa orfaã mandastes dar meo couado de pano Dalcobaça por tosar. 100 E nos dous annos primeyros repartistes tres pescadas por todos estes mosteyros na Pederneyra compradas daquestes mesmos dinheyros. ¶ Ora eu recebi cem reaes em tres annos, contay bem, tenho aqui meo vintem. _F._ Padre, boa conta daes, ponde tudo num item 110 & falay ao meu doutor que elle me falaraa nisso. _C._ Deyxe vossa Merce ysso pera el Rey nosso senhor, & vos falay me de siso. Que coma, senhor, me ficastes ysto dentro em Santarem de me pagardes muy bem. _F._ Em quantas missas machastes? das vossas digo eu porem. 120 _C._ Que culpa vos tem çamora? Por vos estam ellas nos çeos. _F._ Mas tomay as pera vos & guarday as muytembora, entam paguevolas Deos. ¶ Que eu não gasto meus dinheyros em missas atabalhoadas. _C._ & vos fazeys foliadas & nam pagaes o gaiteyro? Isso sam balcarriadas. 130 se vossas merces nam ham cordel pera tantos nos vyuey vos a aquem de vos & nam compreis gauiam pois que não tendes pios. ¶ Uos trazeis seis moços de pee & acrecentaylos a capa coma Rey, & por merce, nam tendo as terras do Papa nem os tratos de Guine: 140 antes vossa renda encurta coma pano Dalcobaça. _F._ Tudo o fidalgo da raça em que a renda seja curta he per força que isso faça. ¶ Padre, muy bem vos entendo: foy sempre a vontade minha daruos a el Rey ou ha Raynha. _C._ Isso me vay parecendo bom trigo se der farinha. 150 Senhor, se misso fizer grande merce me faraa. _F._ Eu vos direy que seraa: dizey agora hum profaceo, a ver que voz tendes pera laa. _C._ Folgarey eu de o dizer, mas quem me responderaa? _F._ Eu. _C._ Per omnia secula seculorum. _F._ Am̃e. _C._ Dominus vobiscum. _F._ Auante. _C._ Sursum corda. 160 _F._ Tendes essa voz tam gorda que pareceis Alifante depois de farto daçorda. _C._ ¶ Pior voz tem Simão vaz tesoureyro e capelam, & pior o Adayam que canta como alcatraz, e outros que por hi estam. Quereys que acabe acantiga & vereys onde vou ter. 170 _F._ Padre, eu ey de ter fadiga, mas del Rey aueis de ser, escusada he mais briga. _C._ ¶ Sabeis em que estaa a contenda? direys: he meu capelam. & el Rey sabe a vossa renda & rirse ha, se vem aa mam, & remetermaa aa Fazenda. _F._ Se vos foreis entoado. _C._ Que bem posso eu cantar 180 onde dam sempre pescado & de dous annos salgado, o pior que ha no mar? ¶ _Vem um pagem do fidalgo & diz:_ _Pag._ ¶ Senhor, o oriuez see alli. _F._ Entre. Quereraa dinheyro. Venhaes embora, caualeyro, cobri a cabeça, cobri. Tendes grande amigo em mi & mais vosso pregoeyro. Gabeyuos ontem a el Rey 190 quanto se pode gabar. & sey que vos ha dacupar, & eu vos ajudarey cada vez que mi achar: ¶ Porque aas vezes estas ajudas sam milhores que cristeis, porque soo a fama que aueis & outras cousas meudas o que valem ja o sabeis. _Our._ Senhor eu o seruirey 200 & nam quero outro senhor. _F._ Sabeis que tendes milhor, eu o disse logo a el Rey & faz em vosso louvor, ¶ Não vos da mais ̃q vos pagũe que vos deyxem de pagar. Nunca vi tal esperar nunca vi tal auantagem nem tal modo dagradar. _O._ Nossa conta he tam pequena, 210 & ha tanto que he deuida, que morre de prometida, & peçoa ja com tanta pena que depenno a minha vida. _F._ ¶ Ora olhay ese falar como vay bem martelado! Folgo nam vos ter pagado por vos ouuir martelar marteladas dauisado. _O._ Senhor, beyjovolas mãos 220 mas o meu queria eu na mão. _F._ Tambem isso he cortesam: 'Senhor, beyjovolas mãos, o meu queria eu na mão.' Que bastiães tam louçãos! ¶ Quanto pesaua o saleyro? _O._ Dous marcos bem, ouro & fio. _F._ Essa he a prata: & o feitio? _O._ Assaz de pouco dinheyro. _F._ Que val com feytio & prata? 230 _O._ Justos noue mil reaes. & nam posso esperar mais que o vosso esperar me mata. _F._ Rijamente mapertaes. E fazeisme mentiroso, que eu gabeyuos doutro geyto & seu tornar ao deffeito nam seraa proueyto vosso. _O._ Assi que o meu saleyro peito? _F._ Elle he dos mais maos saleiros 240 que eu em minha vida comprey. _O._ Ainda o eu tomarey a cabo de tres Janeyros que ha que volo eu fiey. _F._ ¶ Jagora não he rezam: eu nam quero que vos percais. _O._ Pois porque me nam pagais? Que eu mesmo comprey caruão com que mencaruoiçaes. _F._ Moço vayme ver que faz el Rey, 250 se parecem damas la, este dia nam se va em pagaraas, nam pagarey. & vos tornay outro dia ca se nam achardes a mi falay com o meu Camareyro porque elle tem o dinheyro que cadano vem aqui da renda do meu celeyro, e delle recebereys 260 o mais certo pagamento. _O._ E pagaisme ahi co vento ou co as outras merces? _F._ Tomaylhe vos la o tento. ¶ _Indose o capelam vay dizendo:_ _C._ ¶ Estes ham dir ao parayso? nam creo eu logo nelle. Eu lhes mudarey a pelle: daqui auante siso, siso, juro a Deos queu mabruquele. ¶ _Vem o pagem com recado e diz:_ _P._ ¶ Senhor, in Rey see no paço. 270 _F._ Em ̃q casa? _P._ Isto abasta. _F._ O recado que elle da! ratinho es de maa casta. _P._ Abõda, bem sey eu o ̃q eu faço. _F._ Abonda! olhay o vilam. Damas parecem per hi? _P._ Si, senhor, damas vi, andauam pelo balcam. _F._ ¶ E qũe erã? _P._ Damas mesmas. _F._ Como as chamã? _P._ Nam as chamaua ñigũe. 280 _F._ Ratinhos sã abãtesmas & quem por pag̃es os tem. Eu ey de fazer por auer hum pagem de boa casta. _P._ Ainda eu ey de crecer, castiço sam eu que basta se me Deos deyxar viuer. ¶ Pois o mais deprenderey como outros como eu peri. _F._ Pois fazeo tu assi, 290 porque has de ser del Rey, moço da camara ainda. _P._ Boa foy logo ca vinda. Assi que atee os pastores ham de ser del Rey samica! Por isso esta terra he rica de pão, porque os lauradores fazem os filhos paçãos: ¶ Cedo não ha dauer vilãos, todos del Rey, todos del Rey. 300 _F._ E tu zõbas? _P._ Nam mas antes sey que tambem alguns Christãos hã de deyxar a costura. ¶ _Torna o capelam._ _C._ ¶ Vossa merce per ventura falou ja a el Rey em mi? _F._ Ainda geyto nam vi. _C._ Nam seja tam longa a cura como o tempo que serui. _F._ Anda el Rey tam acupado co este Turco, co este Papa, 310 co esta França, co esta trapa que nam acho vao aazado porque tudo anda solapa. Eu entro sempre ao vestir, porém para arrecadar ha mister grande vagar. Podeis me em tanto seruir atee que eu veja lugar. _C._ Senhor queria concrusam. _F._ Concrusam quereis? Bem, bem, 320 concrusam ha em alguem. _C._ Concrusam quer concrusam, & nam ha concrusam em nada. Senhor, eu tenho gastada hũa capa & hum mantam: pagayme minha soldada. _F._ Se vos podesseis achar a altura de Leste a Oeste, pois nam tendes voz que preste, perequi era o medrar. 330 _C._ & vos pagaisme co ar? Mão caminho vejo eu este. ¶ _Vayse._ _P._ Deueo el Rey de tomar que luta como danado: elle é do nosso lugar, de moço guardaua gado agora veo a bispar. ¶ Mas nam sinto capelam que lhe chãte hum par de quedas, e chamase o labaredas. 340 _F._ E ca chamase cotão, mais fidalgo que os azedas. Satisfaçam me pedia, que he pior de fazer que queymar toda Turquia, porque do satisfazer naceo a melanconia. ¶ _Vem Pero vaz, almocreue, que traz hum pouco de fato do fidalgo & vem tangendo a chocalhada & cantando:_ ¶ A serra he alta, fria & neuosa, vi venir serrana, gentil, graciosa. Falando. ¶ Arre mulo namorado 350 que custaste no mercado sete mil & nouecentos & hum traque pera o siseyro. Apre ruço, acrecentado a moradia de quinhentos paga per Nuno ribeyro. Dix pera a paga & pera ti. Arre, arre, arre embora que ja as tardes sam damigo, apre besta do roim, 360 uxtix, o atafal vay por fora & a cilha no embigo. Sam diabos pera os ratos estes vinhos da candosa. Canta. ¶ A serra he alta, fria & neuosa, vi venir serrana, gentil, graciosa. Fala. ¶ Apre ca yeramaa que te vas todo torcendo como jogador de bola. Huxtix, huxte xulo ca, 370 que teu dou yraas gemendo e resoprando sob a cola. Aa corpo de mi tareja descobrisuos vos na cama. Parece? dix pera vossa ama, nam criaraas tu hi bareja. Canta. ¶ Vi venir serrana g̃etil graciosa, chegueime pera ella con grã cortesia. Fala. Mandovos eu sospirar pola padeyra Daueiro, 380 que haueis de chegar aa venda & entam ali desalbardar & albardar o vendeyro senam teuer que nos venda vinho a seis, cabra a tres, pam de calo, fillhos de mãteyga, moça fermosa, l̃eçoes de veludo, casa juncada, noyte longa, chuua com pedra, telhado nouo, a candea morta & a gaita a porta. 390 Apre, zambro, empeçarás? Olha tu nam te ponha eu oculos na rabadilha & veraas por onde vas. Demo que teu dou por seu & andaraas la de silha. ¶ Chegueime a ella de grã cortesia, disselhe: Señora, quereis cõpanhia? ¶ _Vem Vasco afonso, outro almocreve, & topam se ambos no caminho & diz Pero vaz:_ _P._ ¶ Ou, Vasco Afonso, onde vas? _V._ Huxtix, per esse cham. 400 _P._ Nam traes chocalhos nem nada? _V._ Furtarão mos la detras na venda da repeydada. _P._ Hi bebemos nos aa vinda. _V._ Cujo he o fato, Pero vaz? _P._ Dum fidalgo, dou oo diabo o fato & seu dono coelle. _V._ Valente almofreyxe traz. _P._ Tomo o mu de cabo a rabo. _V._ Par deos carrega leua elle. 410 _P._ ¶ Uxtix, agora nam paceram elles & la por essas charnecas vem roendo as vrzeyras. _V._ Leixos tu, Pero vaz, que elles acham aqui as eruas secas & nam comem giesteyras. & quanto te dam por besta? _P._ Nam sey, assi Deos majude. _V._ Nam fizeste logo o preço? mal aas tu de liurar desta. 420 _P._ Leyxeyo em sua virtude, no que elle vir que eu mereço. _V._ ¶ Em sua virtude o deixaste? & trala elle com sigo ou ha dir buscala ainda? Oo que aramaa te fartaste! Queres apostar comigo que te renegues da vinda? _P._ Elle pos desta maneyra a mão na barba & me jurou 430 de meus dinheyros pagalos. _V._ Essa barba era inteyra a mesma em que te jurou ou bigodezinhos ralos? _P._ ¶ Ora Deos sabe o que faz & o juiz de çamora: de fidalgo he manter fee. _V._ Bem sabes tu, Pero vaz, que fidalgo ha jagora que nam sabe se o he. 440 Como vay a ta molher & todo teu gasalhado? _P._ O gasalhado hi ficou. _V._ E a molher? _P._ Fugio. _V._ Nam pode ser. Como estaraas magoado, yeramaa. _P._ Bofa nam estou. ¶ Huxtix, sempre has dandar debayxo dos souereyros? & a mi que me da disso? _V._ Per força ta de pesar 450 se rirem de ti os vendeyros. _P._ Nam tenho de ver co isso. ¶ Vay, Vasco afonso, ao teu mu que se quer deytar no cham. _V._ Pesate mas desingulas. _P._ Nam pesa: bem sabes tu que as molheres nam sam todo o verã senã pulgas. Isto quanto aa saudade que eu della posso ter; 460 & quanto ao rir das gentes ella faz sua vontade: foyse perhi a perder & eu nã perdi os dentes. ¶ Ainda aqui estou enteyro, Vasco afonso, como dantes, filho de Afonso vaz e neto de Jam diz pedreyro & de Branca Anes Dabrantes, nam me faz nem me desfaz. 470 Do que me fica gram noo que teue rezam de se hir & em parte nam he culpada; porque ella dormia soo & eu sempre hia dormir cos meus muus aa meyjoada. ¶ Queria a eu yr poupando pera la pera a velhice como colcha de Medina & ella mosca Fernando 480 quando vio minha pequice foy descobrir outra mina. _V._ E agora que faraas? _P._ Yrey dormir aa Cornaga e aamenhaã aa Cucanha. E tu vay, embora vas, que eu vou seruir esta praga & veremos que se ganha. ¶ _Vai cantando._ ¶ Disselhe: señora ̃qreis cõpanhia? Dixeme: escudeyro segui vossa via. 490 _Pag._ Senhor, o almocreue he ãqlle que os chocalhos ouço eu, este he o fato, senhor. _Fid._ Ponde todos cobro nelle. _Per._ Uxtix mulo do judeu. O fato hu saa de por? _Pa._ Venhaes embora, pero vaz. _Pe._ Mãtenha deos vossa merce. _Pa._ Viestes polas folgosas? _Pe._ Ahi estiue eu oje faz 500 oyto dias pee por pee em casa de hũas tias vossas. _Pa._ Ora meu pai que fazia? _Pe._ Cauaua andando o bacelo bem cansado e bem suado. _Pa._ E minha mãy? _Pe._ Leuaua o gado la pera val de cubelo, mal roupada que ella ia. Huxtix, que mao lambaz. & vossa merce que faz? 510 _Pa._ Estou louçam coma que. _Pe._ E abofee creceis açaz, saude que vos Deos dee. _Pa._ ¶ Eu sou pagem de meu senhor, se Deos quiser pagem da lança. _Pe._ E hum fidalgo tanto alcança? Isso he Demperador ora prenda el Rey de França. _Pa._ Ainda eu ey de perchegar a caualeyro fidalgo. 520 _Pe._ Pardeos, João crespo penaluo, que isso seria esperar de mao rafeyro ser galgo. ¶ Mais fermoso estaa ao vilam mao burel que mao frisado & romper matos maninhos, & ao fidalgo de naçam ter quatro homes de recado e leyxar laurar ratinhos; que em Frandes & Alemanha 530 em toda França & Veneza, que vivem por siso e manha por nam viver em tristeza; ¶ nam he como nesta terra. Porque o filho do laurador casa la com lauradora & nunca sobem mais nada; & o filho do broslador casa com a brosladora, isto por ley ordenada. 540 E os fidalgos de casta seruem os Reis & altos senhores de tudo sem presunçam, tam chãos ̃q pouco lhes basta; & os filhos dos lauradores pera todos lauram pam. _Pa._ ¶ Quero hir dizer de vos. _Pe._ Ora yde dizer de mi; que se grave he Deos dos ceos mais graves deoses ha qui. 550 _Pa._ Senhor ali vem o fato & estaa ha porta o almocreue, vede quem lha a de pagar isso tal que se lhe deue. _F._ ¶ Isto he com que meu mato. quem te manda procurar? Atenta tu polo meu & arrecado muyto bem & nam cures de ninguem. _Pa._ Elle he dapar de Viseu 560 & homem que me pertem, pois a porta lhabri eu. ¶ _Entra dentro o almocreue & diz:_ ¶ _Pe._ Senhor, trouxe a frascaria do vossa merce aqui. Hi estam os mus albardados. _Fid._ Essa he a mais nova arauia d'almocreue que eu vi: dou-te vinte mil cruzados. _Pe._ Mas pagueme vossa merce o meu aluguer, no mais, 570 que me quero logo hir. _F._ O aluguer quanto he? _Pe._ Mil & seis centos reaes, & isto por vos seruir. _F._ ¶ Falay co meu azemel, porque he doutor das bestas & estrologo dos mus: que assente em hum papel per aualiações honestas o que se monta, ora sus; 580 porque esta he a ordenança & estilo de minha casa. & se o azemel for fora, como cuydo que he em França, dareis outra volta aa massa & hiruos eis por agora. ¶ Vossa paga he nas mãos. _Pe._ Ja a eu quisera nos pees, oo pesar de minha mãy! _F._ E tens tu pay & yrmãos? 590 _Pe._ Pagay, senhor, não zombeis, que sam dalem da sertãy & nam posso ca tornar. _F._ Se ca vieres aa corte pousaraas aqui cos meus. _Pe._ Nunca mais ey de fiar em fidalgo desta sorte, em que o mande sam Mateus. _F._ ¶ Faze por teres amigos & mais tal homem comeu 600 porque dinheyro he hum vento. _Pe._ Dou eu ja oo demo os amigos que me a mi levam o meu. ¶ _Vayse o almocreue & vem outro Fidalgo & diz o fidalgo primeyro:_ _F. 1^o._ ¶ Oo que grande saber vir & que gram saber maa vontade. _F. 2^o._ Pois, senhor, que vos parece? desejo de vos seruir & nam quero ̃q venha aa cidade hum quem nam parece esquece. _F. 1^o._ Paguey soma de dinheyro 610 a hum ouriuez agora de prata que me laurou & paguey a hum recoueiro que he a dar dinheyros fora a quem nam sei como os ganhou. _F. 2^o._ Ganhã-nos tã mal ganhados que vos roubam as orelhas. _F. 1^o._ Pola hostia consagrada & polo Deos consagrado que os lobos nas ouelhas 620 nam dam tã crua pancada. Polos sanctos auangelhos e polo omnium sanctorum que atee o meu capelam per mesinhas de coelhos & hũa secula seculorum lhe dou por missa hum tostam. ¶ Não ha ja homem em Portugal tam sogeyto em pagar nem tam forro pera molheres. 630 _F. 2^o._ Guarday vos esse bem tal que a mi ham me de matar bem me queres, mal me queres. _F. 1^o._ Per quantas damas Deos t̃e nã daria nemigalha: olhay que descubro isto. _F. 2^o._ Sam tam fino em querer bem que de fino tomo a palha pola fee de Jesu Christo. ¶ Quem quereis que veja olhinhos 640 que se nam perca por elles la per hũs geytinhos lindos que vos metem em caminhos & nam ha caminhos nelles senam espinhos infindos. _F. 1^o._ Eu ja nam ey de penar por amores de ninguem; mas dama de bom morgado aqui vay o remirar, aqui vay o querer bem, 650 & tudo bem empregado. ¶ Que porque dance muy bem nem baylar com muyta graça, seja discreta, auisada, fermosa quanto Deos tem, senhor, boa prol lhe faça se seu pay nam tiuer nada. Nam sejaes vos tam mancias, que isso passa ja damor & cousas desesperadas. 660 _F. 2^o._ Porem la por vossas vias vou vos esperar, senhor, a rendeyro das jugadas. ¶ Porque galante caseyro he pera por em historia. _F. 1^o._ Mas zombay, senhor, zombay. _F. 2^o._ Senhor, o homem inteiro nam lha de vir ha memoria co a dama o de seu pay; nem ha mais de desejar 670 nem querer outra alegria que so los tus cabellos niña: nam ha hi mais que esperar onde he esta canteguinha, e todo mal he quem no tem, e se o disserem digão, alma minha, quem vos anojou meu bem. Ey os todos de grosar ¶ ainda que sejam velhos. _F. 1^o._ Vos, senhor, vindes tão brauo 680 que eu eyuos medo ja: polos sanctos auangelhos que leuais tudo ao cabo la onde cabo nam ha. _F. 2^o._ Zombaes, & daes a entender zombando que mentendeis. Pois de vos muy alto sou, porque deueis de saber que se damor nam sabeis nam podeis yr onde vou. 690 ¶ Quando fordes namorado vireis a ser mais profundo, mais discreto e mais sotil, porque o mundo namorado he la, senhor, outro mundo, que estaa alem do Brasil. Oo meu mundo verdadeyro! oo minha justa batalha! mundo do meu doce engano! _F. 1^o._ Oo palha do meu palheyro, 700 que tenho hum mundo de palha, palha ainda dora a hum anno; e tenho hum mundo de trigo para vender a essa gente: bom cabeça tem Morale. Nam quero damor, amigo andar gemente & flente in hac lachrymarum valle. _F._ 2^o. Voume: vos não sois sentido, sois muy duro do pescoço, 710 não val isso nemigalha: pesame de ver perdido hum homem fidalgo ençosso, pois tem a vida na palha. FINIS 19. _milhaam_ B. _milhan_ C. 21. _desamparada_ B. 24. _gentes_ A, B. _gente_ C, D, E. 25. _raya_ A, B. _raiva_ C, D, E. 43. _Habofee_ B. 52. _o que_ A, B. _quanto_ C, D, E. 53. _perlongueis_ A, B. _prolongueis_ C, D, E. 57. _et negociatores_ C. 62. _d'outro_ C. 103. _Pedreneyra_ B. 115. _coma_ A. _como_ B. 128. _o gaiteyro_ A. _ó gaiteiro_ C, D, E. 135. _Uos trazeis_ A. _Trazeis_ C, D, E. 142. _da raça_ A. _de raça_ C. 153. _dizey ora_ B. 157. _Penonia_ A. _Per omnia_ C. 167. _perhi_ B. 174. _direyis_ A. 180. _honde_ B. 183. _oriuez_ and infra _our._ A; _oriuz_ B. _see_ A; _seee_ B; _s'he_ C. 191. _de occupar_ C. 198. _ja o sabeis_ A. _ja sabeis_ C. 205. B omits 205 and prints 206 twice. 236. _desfeyto_ B. 239. B. omits _mais_. 240. _que em_ C. 249. _ver o que faz_ C. 255. _com o_ A. _c'o_ C. 257. _anno_ B. 263-4. _capelam, ourives?_ 268. _que m'abruquele_ C. B omits 268. 269. _s'he_ C. 271. _O recado qu'elle dá! Madraço,_ ? 286. _deixa_ C. 287. _o amais_ B. _o mais o_ C. 288. _com os outros_ B. 292. _ca a vinda_ C. 308. _acupado_ A, B. _occupado_ C. 325. _minha_ A, B. _a minha_ C. 346. _melancholia_ C. _chocallada_ B. 369. _uxtix, uxte_ C. 372. _Aa corpo_ A. _ao corpo_ C, D, E. 375. _vareja_ C. 377. _pa_ B. 383. _que nos_ A, B. _que vos_ C. 389. _a candeia morta, gaita_ C. 395. _cilha_ C. 397. _senhora_ B. 406. _e o seu_ C. 419. _as_ B. 422. _leixaste_ C. 425. _fretaste_ C. 443. _fogio_ B. 449. _t'ha_ C. 465. _Afonso_ B. 466. _Affonso_ B. 467. _Iam diz_ B. _Jan Diz_ C. 470. _gram noo_ A. _gran dó_ C. 471. _razam_ B. 484. _aa menhaa_ B. 488. _señora_ A, B. 491. _chocallos_ B. 495. _s'ha_ C. 503. _Cauaua andando o bacelo_ A, B. _Cavando andava bacelo_ C. 506. _Cobelo_ C. 513. _sou_ A; _sam_ C [cf. 591]. _señor_ B. 518. _ey de perchegar_ A, B. _hei de chegar_ C. 524. _bom frisado_ B. 535. _casalo_ B. 536. _sobem_ A, B. _sabem_ C. 549. _haqui_ B. _ha aqui_ C. 552. _lha a_ A. _lha_ B. _lhe ha_ C. 559. _da par_ B. 562. _frescaria_ B. 576. _astrologo_ C. 591. _sam_ A; _sou_ C [cf. 513]. _da Sertãy_ A, B; _do sertão_ C. 604. _maa_ A. _me a_ C. _& gran saber maa_ B. 617. B omits 617-626. 634. _nem migalha_ C. 644. _enfindos_ A. B omits 644. 666. _enteyro_ B. 671. que so _Los tus cabellos niña_ C. 675. _e se o disserem digão_--_Alma minha_ C. 681. _auangelhos_ A, B. _evangelhos_ C. 689. _onde eu vou_ C. 692. _subtil_ C. 703. _vender essa essa gente_ A. _a essa_ B, C. 704. _bom_ A, B. _boa_ C. 707. _vale_ A. 712. _ençosso_ A. _ensoço_ C. FINIS. B omits _Finis_ and has: _Vanse estas figuras & acabouse esta farsa. Laus Deo_ ENGLISH TRANSLATION: _The Carriers._ _The following farce was played before the very powerful and excellent King Dom João III of Portugal in his city of Coimbra in the year of the Lord 1526. Its argument is that a nobleman with a very small income lived in great state and had his own chaplain, goldsmith and other officials, whom he never paid. His chaplain seeing himself penniless and in tatters enters, saying:_ _Chaplain._ In such straits I cannot pray, So to lessen my distress And to win lightheartedness I'll walk along this Sandy Way And, the cares that on me press To soothe, the old romance I'll gloss "I was in Coimbra city" Since Coimbra without pity Brings us to such dearth and loss. 10 I was in Coimbra city That is built so gracefully, In the plains of the Mondego Straw nor barley could I see. Thereupon, ah me! I reckoned 'Twas a trap set artfully For the horses of the Court And the mule that carried me Ill I augured when I saw The young maize cut so lavishly 20 And selling for its weight in gold: O my mule, I grieve for thee! In the plain along the river I saw a host in battle free Not of men, of mice the host was, They were fighting furiously. There are cabbages--in Biscay And there's meat--in Brittany. I'm chaplain to a nobleman, Poor as a church-mouse is he; 30 On great show his heart is set Although his household famished be, Rustic louts he has for pages And all goes disastrously. Now will I ask leave of him And demand my salary. _The chaplain arrives at the nobleman's room and converses with him thus:_ _C._ Sir, it is high time, I ween.... _N._ Say on, good padre, say on. _C._ I say three years are wellnigh gone Since your chaplain I have been. 40 _N._ Say on, for such a truth convinces. _C._ And I might have been the Prince's Yes, and might have been the King's. _N._ In good sooth that's not so clear. _C._ For I'm meant for higher things Though I stayed to serve you here. So then, sir, please to consider What I am to gain thereby, For besides priest's service I Served as buyer and as bidder. 50 _N._ That I surely won't deny. Come now, make out a petition Of all you would have me pay. _C._ Sir, put me not off, I pray, For indeed your one condition Seems delay and still delay. In your service I became Priest and man of business too. _N._ Yes, and I bestowed on you Many a favour for the same, 60 More than most are wont to do. What more should a priest require Of money or emolument Than his meals beside the fire --That's daily one penny spent-- All things to his heart's desire? And besides there is the glory: He's chaplain to Lord So-and-so. _C._ Of dress you think not, nor the worry Of meals e'er taken in a flurry, 70 And sleeping with my head so low My tonsure touched the ground, and no Comfort nor pillow for my head, And early mass, and late to bed. And I, your favour for to win, Served out-of-doors as well as in, Bought shell-fish in the market-place, To many an errand set my face --You know, sir, it is as I say-- That ill became my dignity. 80 Your carrier on the highway --Gee-up, gee-wo, the livelong day-- Was I, and charge was given me Of the kitchen-negroes and the cats, I cleaned your boots, I brushed your hats, And might add other things to these. _N._ Yes, for so 'twas my intent To trust you with my charities, And for the love of God you spent, Nor asked I how the money went. 90 _C._ For the three years of which I speak I'll tell you now without ado: To a blind man a farthing you Once bade me give in Holy Week. _N._ I'm not denying that it's true. _C._ And then just one year afterward, An orphan's dower to help to find, You bade give cloth--the roughest kind Of Alcobaça--half a yard. And also, perhaps you bear in mind, 100 Three lots of fish you bade divide Among the convents round about During these first three years: supplied Were they from Pederneira, out Of that same fund must I provide. Now in three years I did receive One hundred réis, and at this rate Just this one halfpenny they leave. _N._ I see you are most accurate. But come now, without more debate, 110 Make one account of everything And give't my secretary, he Will the matter to my notice bring. _C._ O Sir, leave all that for the King Our master, and speak seriously. My services your promise was, Sir, when we were at Santarem, That you would pay right well for them. _N._ How often saw you me at Mass? --I mean when 'twas you said the same. 120 _C._ If that was so am _I_ to blame? They have been said on your behalf. _N._ O keep them, keep them for yourself, You're very welcome to them--so, God will your due reward bestow. My money I waste not that way On masses muttered anyhow. _C._ What, would you have your mummeries now And think you need no fiddler pay? This is presumption's height, I trow. 130 Unless your lordship's purse possesses Means for pomp and state so high To reduce them and spend less is Merely not a hawk to buy If you are without its jesses. Pages six in cloaks arrayed Wait upon you in the street In state that for a king were meet. Yet you have not, I'm afraid, The Pope's lands nor Guinea's trade. 140 For your revenues shrink and shrink Much like Alcobaça cloth. _N._ Even so every noble doth Who to high birth small means must link. There's no other way, I think. But I see, padre, what you want, And my wish has always been To give you to the King or Queen. _C._ That would be good wheat, I grant, If its flour could be seen. 150 Sir, if that should come to pass At your kindness I'll rejoice. _N._ Well then, without more ado, That so I may judge your voice, Sing a preface of the Mass. _C._ That will I most gladly do, But who will the responses say? _N._ I. _C._ _Per omnia secula._ _N._ _Amen._ _C._ _Dominus vobiscum._ _N._ Sing on, padre. _C._ _Sursum corda._ 160 _N._ Your voice, less soft than a recorder, Is thick as an elephant's that has fed Its fill of soup--and no more said. _C._ Worse voice has Simão Vaz, I ween, Yet he's Treasurer and King's Chaplain, worse voice has the Dean --Like a pelican _he_ sings-- And others that may be seen In the palace. Let me end My singing and great things you'll see. 170 _N._ I think I'm rather tired, friend. But the King's you'll surely be, Nor need we further effort spend. _C._ Sir, the difficulty's this: For you'll say: 'My chaplain he,' The King knows what your income is And he'll laugh right merrily And send me to the Treasury. _N._ If you had but a good ear! _C._ How sing well when 'tis your use 180 To give me everlasting cheer Of stockfish salted yesteryear, The worst that all the seas produce? _One of the nobleman's pages comes and says:_ _Page._ My lord, the goldsmith's at the door. _N._ Show him in.--He's come for more Money.--Come in, Sir, good-day. Put your hat on, I implore, I'm your great friend, you may say, Since I e'er your praises sing. Only last night to the King 190 You most highly I commended And I know that he intended To employ you. I'll insist Every time I see him, for Such mention oft advances more Than directly to assist, And these little things, you know, May to a great value grow As your name and fame have grown. _G._ No other patron would I own, 200 Sir, I'll serve him with all zest. _N._ Know you what I like the best In you? (To the King I said it And it's greatly to your credit) That you ne'er for payment pressed Nor your creditors molest. Ne'er such patience did I see, Such superiority And anxiety to please. _G._ Our account's so small a thing 210 And is so long overdue, 'Tis half dead of promises, So that when I bring it you I but a dead promise bring. _N._ How most cunningly inlaid And enamelled is each word! I rejoice not to have paid For the sake of having heard Phrases with such skill arrayed. _G._ Sir, I kiss your hands, but still 220 What is mine would see in mine. _N._ Another courtier's phrase so fine! 'Sir, I kiss your hands, but still What is mine would see in mine!' Fair flowers of speech are yours at will. What did the salt-cellar weigh? _G._ A good two marks, most accurately. _N._ The silver. And your work, I pray? _G._ That may almost be ignored. _N._ In all what may its value be? 230 _G._ Just nine thousand réis, my lord. And I can no longer wait For I'm killed by your delay. _N._ Your insistence, Sir, is great And I shall have told a lie For quite differently I Praised you. Praise may turn to gibe: you Surely will not gain thereby. _G._ With the cellar must I bribe you? _N._ 'Tis of salt-cellars the worst 240 For which I e'er gave a shilling. _G._ Though three years have passed since first I let you have it I am willing To retake it even now. _N._ No, no, that I won't allow For I would not have you lose. _G._ Why then pay me not my dues? For myself the charcoal bought With which you turn my hopes to nought. _N._ Boy, go see what does the King, 250 And if there are ladies to be seen, The whole day shall not pass, I ween, In pay and won't pay: no such thing. And you return some other day: And if you find that I'm away Then speak unto my Chamberlain, He of all moneys that accrue Has charge and of the revenue That yearly comes from tithe and grain: And from him you will obtain 260 Most certainly what is your due. _G._ And do you pay me with parade Of words and other bounties vain? _N._ See to it you that you are paid. _As the chaplain goes out he says:_ _C._ Shall such men go to paradise? If so I'll not believe in it. But I'll be even with them yet: Henceforth, proof against each device, I'll countermine them by my wit. _The page comes with a message and says:_ _P._ The King be in the palace, Sir. 270 _N._ In what room? _P._ No more I know. _N._ Low-born villain, is it so That a message you deliver? _P._ Arrah, I know what I'm about. _N._ Arrah! just listen to the lout! Are any ladies present there? _P._ Yes, I saw ladies, I aver, For they upon the terrace were. _N._ Who were they? _P._ They were ladies, Sir. _N._ How called? _P._ My lord, no one was calling. 280 _N._ These rustic churls are too appalling. And serve me right for keeping such. Henceforth I really must contrive To have a page of better stuff. _P._ Sir, I'll grow speedily enough To please you, yes and will do much Provided God leaves me alive: And the rest I'll quickly learn As others who good wages earn. _N._ Well do so, and then I will see 290 How you may come to serve the King And even page of the Chamber be. _P._ So I did well to leave my home. Since even shepherds may become Attendants on the King, the King! So thrives with corn the land, bereft Of labourers, whom their fathers send To Court their fortunes for to mend, And soon there'll be no peasants left, For all will on the King attend. 300 _N._ What mockery's this? _P._ Nay, Sir, I know That some poor Christians even so From toil shall have deliverance. _Re-enter the Chaplain._ _C._ Have you, my lord, by any chance Yet spoken to the King of me? _N._ I've had no opportunity. _C._ The remedy may be delayed Another three years, I'm afraid. _N._ The King's so busy, now with France, Now with the Turk, and now the Pope, 310 And other matters of high scope, And with such careful secrecy That I can see but little hope. I'm always there at the levée, But get no long talk with the King In which to settle anything. Meanwhile you may still serve with me Until I find an opening. _C._ Sir, I would have the matter brought To a conclusion. _N._ To conclusion? 320 Yes, and perhaps better than you thought. _C._ Conclusion here I see in nought, In everything only confusion. Sir, a cope and a chasuble too Have I in your service quite worn out: Pay me the wages that are due. _N._ Could you now but from East to West Discover us the latitude So, since your voice's not of the best, You might win the King's gratitude. 330 _C._ Sir, I perceive you do but jest: Would you pay me with a platitude? (_He goes out._) _P._ The King should take him, since he's cheap At any price, is such a fighter: He's from our village, and the sheep Was in his boyhood wont to keep, And now he's searching for a mitre. But there's no chaplain of them all Could ever bring him to a fall, And Labaredas is his name. 340 _N._ But here Cotão's yclept the same, The noblest in the land withal. Now he demands what's his by right As though 'twere not as easy quite For me all Turkey's lands to burn, Since any service to requite Gives one a melancholy turn. _Pero Vaz, a carrier, comes with a parcel of clothes for the nobleman and enters with jingling of bells, singing:_ The snow is on the hills, the hills so cold and high, I saw a maiden of the hills, graceful and fair, pass by. (_Speaking:_) Go on there, _arré_, my fine mule, 350 You cost me in the market-place Seven thousand and nine hundred réis And a kick in the eye for the tax-gatherer fool. Get on, my roan. And add thereto The portion of five hundred too That Nuno Ribeiro had to pay: All this, my mule, was paid for you. Get on, _arré_, upon your way, For the afternoons now are the best of the day, Get on, you brute, get on, I say, 360 Look you the crupper's all awry And see, right round is pulled the girth: Candosa wines bring little mirth To any such poor fool as I. (_He sings:_) The snow is on the hills, the hills so cold and high, I saw a maiden of the hills, graceful and fair, pass by. (_He speaks:_) Curse you, go on, _arré_, I say, And now you're going all askew As one who would at skittles play: Come up, my mule, _arré_, _arré_. 370 But if I once begin with you I'll make you groan upon your way. By my Theresa, you'd lose your load, You would, would you, upon the road? But I'll not give you any rest Nor leave flies leisure to molest. (_He sings:_) I saw a maiden of the hills, graceful and fair, pass by, And towards her then went I with great courtesy. (_He speaks:_) Yes, and I would have you sigh For the Aveiro bakeress, 380 For the inn you'll come to by and by And then we'll off with the packsaddle And the innkeeper we'll straddle If he have not, to slake our thirstiness, Good wine at threepence and kid at less, And for hard bread soft buttermilk, A fair wench to serve and sheets of silk, If the floor's strewn with rushes the night be long, If it hails, be the roof both new and strong, When the lamp burns dim welcome fiddler's strain. 390 Hold up, there! At your tricks again? Bandy-legged brute, shall I prevail, If I rain down barnacles on your tail, To make you look where you are going. To the Devil with you! He'll be knowing How to handle your like without fail. 'And towards her then went I with great courtesy: Will you, said I, lady, of my company?' _Vasco Afonso, another carrier, comes along and they meet on the road, and Pero Vaz says:_ _P._ Ho, Vasco Afonso, where goest thou? _V._ Look you, I go along the road. 400 _P._ Without thy bells nor any load? _V._ They were stolen from me even now By a cursed robber at the inn. _P._ We had a drink there as we came. _V._ Whose, Pero Vaz, is all this stuff? _P._ A nobleman's, Devil take the same, Him and his suit of clothes and all. _V._ Yes, 'tis a bundle large enough. _P._ It takes the mule from head to tail. _V._ One cannot say it's load is small. 410 _P._ Look you, now they will not graze And when through open moors we pass They nibble at the heather roots. _V._ Leave them, Pero Vaz, to go their ways, For very parched is here the grass, And they won't touch the broom's green shoots. What is to thee for carriage given? _P._ I do not know, so help me Heaven. _V._ What! didst thou not then fix a price? Thou'st caught then in a pretty vice. 420 _P._ I left it to his good faith to pay Whate'er he saw was due to me. _V._ Left it to his good faith, you say! And what then if he hasn't any And has to go to look for it? O thou hast done most foolishly: I'll wager thee an honest penny That thou'lt repent thy coming yet. _P._ He put his hand--see here how-- Upon his beard and swore that I 430 Should be paid my money faithfully. _V._ Was it a proper beard, look you now, On which this oath of his was heard, Or a mere straggling moustache? _P._ Nay, as there is a God above, A judge who will the right approve, A nobleman will keep his word. _V._ Thou knowest right well, Pero Vaz, There are nobles now who scarcely know Whether they're noblemen or no. 440 How is thy wife now? Is she well? And thy other property? _P._ That's there all right. _V._ Well, and she? _P._ She ran away. _V._ Impossible! How sad thou must be feeling, why Bad luck to it. _P._ In faith not I. [_To his mule_] Come up there, must you ever go Just where the cork-trees come so low?-- What has it to do with me? _V._ Thou must needs be hurt thereby 450 When the innkeepers laugh at thee. _P._ No, that doesn't make me tremble. Vasco Afonso, look to thy mule, It's going to lie down on the ground. _V._ Thou feelest it but canst dissemble. _P._ O no, I don't. Thou know'st as a rule What women are all the summer round: So much for any regret that I Might feel for her now she is gone. 460 And as for people's laughter, why As was her will so has she done: She went away to her own loss And leaves me not one tooth the worse. I'm hale and hearty as I was, Vasco Afonso, no change there is: The son still of Afonso Vaz, Grandson of the mason Jan Diz And Branca Annes my grandmother Of Abrantes: nor one way nor the other 470 It touches me. And yet I grieve That she was partly in the right And was not utterly to blame, For I was ever wont to leave Her lonely there while every night To sleep at the inn with my mules I came. I wished thus that she might remain As a refuge for my old age, Like a Medina counterpane, But she saw through me and alack 480 Must view the matter in a rage And go off on another track. _V._ And what wilt thou do now, I pray? _P._ I'll sleep at Cornaga's inn to-day And at Cucanha's to-morrow. So get thee on upon thy way, And I'll on this errand to my sorrow And we'll see how it will pay. _He goes singing:_ 'Will you,' said I, 'lady, of my company?' But 'Sir knight, pass on your way,' said she unto me. 490 _Page._ Sir, the carrier is here, He has brought the clothes for you, For the sound of the bells I hear. _N._ Look to it all of you with care. _Pero._ Hold up mule, you son of a Jew. Where shall I put the clothes, say, where? _P._ Good morrow to you, good Pero. _Pe._ God keep your worship even so. _P._ By the Folgosas did you go? _Pe._ Yes, that way was my journey made 500 And to-day is just a week ago Since in your aunts' house there I stayed. _P._ What was my father doing now? _Pe._ Hoeing the vines in the sweat of his brow, In great heat and weariness. _P._ And my mother? _Pe._ She was up the dale Driving the herd--all in tatters her dress-- Out towards Cobelo's Vale. [_To the mule_] Be quiet there. The greedy brute. And yourself how do these times suit? 510 _P._ I'm flourishing like anything. _Pe._ In faith you're growing fine and tall, And may God give you health withal. _P._ I'm my lord's page and may advance To be the page who bears the lance. _Pe._ What, is a nobleman so great? That's for an Emperor, and the King Of France, I see, must mind his state. _P._ And more, I may go on to be A knight of the nobility. 520 _Pe._ Nay, by the Lord, John, listen to me: That were t'expect without good ground A watch-dog to become a hound. To the peasant far more honour doth Coarse sacking than your flimsy cloth. And to set his hand to till the soil And for the nobleman by birth To have men on his ways to toil And let the rustic plough the earth. For in Flanders and in Germany, 530 In Venice and the whole of France, They live well and reasonably And thus win deliverance From the woes that are here to hand. For there the peasant on the land Doth the peasant's daughter wed, Nor further seeks to raise his head, And even so the skilled workmen too Those only of their own class woo, By law is it so orderèd. 540 And there the nobility Serve kings and lords of high degree And do so with a lowly heart And simple, for their needs are small, And the sons of the peasants for their part Sow and reap the crops for all. _P._ I'll go and announce you now. _Pe._ Go and announce to your heart's fill: By the solemn God of Heaven I vow There are gods here more solemn still. 550 _P._ Sir, they've brought the clothes for you, And the carrier's at the door; Please to tell me, Sir, therefore, Who is to pay him what is due. _N._ That's what I should like to know. What business is it of yours? You go And look to what they've brought for me: Stow it away in safety And trouble about nothing more. _P._ From over against Viseu is he 560 And properly belongs to me Since I it was answered the door. _The carrier comes in and says:_ _Pe._ Sir, I've brought the goods, you see, For your worship, they're not small, Here they are, pack-mules and all. _N._ This is the strangest carrier's jargon That has ever come my way. A thousand crowns for you, a bargain. _Pe._ Nay, Sir, I would have you pay Simply what you owe to me, 570 For I must straightway be gone. _N._ And what may the carriage be? _Pe._ Sixteen hundred reis: you alone Would I charge so little, Sir. _N._ Go speak with my head messenger For he's master of the horses And the mules' astrologer: Let him in a neat account Fairly reckon the amount, What is due, and how bought, how sold, 580 For this customary course is Ever followed in my household. And if he's absent by some chance, And I _believe_ he is in France, Then return some other day And for the present go your way. And your pay is in your hand. _Pe._ I wish I had it in my feet. O woe is me, O by my mother! _N._ And have you a father and a brother? 590 _Pe._ Jest not but pay me as is meet, For I come from beyond the moor, Return I cannot to the Court. _N._ Whenever you come to town my door Is open: lodge with my men you must. _Pe._ Never again will I put trust In any noble of this sort, Not though St Matthew himself exhort. _N._ To making friends your thoughts incline, Such friends as I especially, 600 For money is but vanity. _Pe._ To the devil with such friends, say I, Who cozen me of what is mine. _The carrier goes away and another nobleman comes and the first nobleman says:_ _1st N._ O how well you time your visit And your coming is most kind. _2nd N._ Sir, it is not doubtful, is it?, That to serve you I'm inclined. And I would not have it said Out of sight is out of mind. _1st N._ A large sum of money I 610 To a goldsmith have just paid For some silver he inlaid. To a carrier too, though why I should pay him scarce appears, Or how he won what he obtains. _2nd N._ So ill-gotten are their gains That they rob your very ears. _1st N._ Nay by the consecrated Host And the Holy God of Heaven Their onslaught is more fierce almost 620 Than that of wolves on a sheepfold even. Why my very chaplain too For the little work he does for me By whatever saints there be Yea and by the Gospels true For his prayers I must be willing To give him for each mass a shilling. There's not in Portugal a man More liable to pay than I: Nor one who is from love so free. 630 _2nd N._ Ah keep yourself from its fell ban, For lovers' joys and misery I think will be the end of me. _1st N._ For all the ladies upon earth I would not give a halfpenny: Frankly I say that's what they're worth. _2nd N._ A lover gentle, you must know, As I excels in delicacy, By my faith 'tis even so. And who should a fair lady's eyes 640 Behold and not be lost in sighs? And their pretty ways that lead You to toils in which indeed You will find no thoroughfare: Only infinite thorns and care. _1st N._ Nevermore for lady I Shall be made to pine or sigh. But if she have fine estate Thither then will my eyes turn And my heart begin to burn, 650 Let the profit be but great. Dance she ne'er so gracefully, Skilfully with nimble feet, Be she sensible, discreet, And fairest of all fair to see: If of her father I have no profit, Much good, I say, may she have of it. Do not you be so lovelorn, For 'tis scarcely to be borne, Love? nay madness, verily. 660 _2nd N._ By your way of it, I see, I the husbandman discover And in very sooth 'twill be A fine story this for me Of the farmer turning lover. _1st N._ O mock me, Sir, if mock you can. _2nd N._ Sir, the perfect gentleman Doth not link his lady fair With what her father may possess. Nor descries he other scope, 670 Nor sighs for greater happiness Than 'In the tresses of thy hair,' For indeed is all his hope Centred in that single song, And 'Sorrows to him alone belong,' And 'If they say so, let it be,' And 'Who, my love, hath vexèd thee?' I will sing and gloss them too, All these songs both old and new. _1st N._ Sir, you are so fierce and brave 680 That I'm half afraid of you: By the holy books you have A wont to carry with high hand Even what you can't command. _2nd N._ You mock me, yet 'tis but to prove That as you mock you understand. For I must far above you stand, Since if you are exempt from love 'Tis at least for you to know That where I go you cannot go. 690 When you are a lover, then A discretion more profound And subtlety your mind may fill: The lover's world's beyond your ken, A different world that's to be found In regions further than Brazil. O my world, the only true one, O the right I fight for oft, Sweet illusions that pursue one! _1st N._ O the straw that's in my loft! 700 For a world of straw is mine That all wants for a year will meet, And I have a world of wheat And will sell to all beholders, And a head upon my shoulders. But, my friend, I will not pine For love, nor weep throughout the years Mourning in this vale of tears. _2nd N._ Farewell, you have no sentiment And are stiff-necked exceedingly, 710 All that's not worth an ancient saw. But me it grieves to see so spent A noble's life most witlessly, Since he's become a man of straw. FINIS TRAGICOMEDIA PASTORIL DA SERRA DA ESTRELLA Tragicomedia Pastoril da Serra da Estrella. Tragicomedia pastoril feyta & representada ao muyto poderoso & catholico Rey dom Ioam o terceyro deste nome em Portugal ao parto da serenissima & muy alta Raynha dona Caterina nossa senhora & nacimento da illustrissima iffante dona Maria, que depois foy princesa de Castella, na cidade de Coimbra na era do senhor de M.D.xxvij. Entra logo a serra da estrela & diz: ¶ Prazer que fez abalar tal serra comeu da estrela faraa engrandecer o mar e faraa baylar Castela 5 & o ceo tambem cantar. Determino logo essora ir a Coimbra assi inteyra em figura de pastora, feyta serrana da beyra 10 como quem na beyra mora. ¶ E leuarey la comigo minhas serranas trigueyras, cada qual com seu amigo, & todalas ouelheyras 15 que andam no meu pacigo. E das vacas mais pintadas & das ouelhas meyrinhas pera dar apresentadas aa Raynha das Raynhas, 20 cume das bem assombradas. ¶ Sendo Raynha tamanha veo ca aa serra embora parir na nossa montanha outra princesa despanha 25 como lhe demos agora, hũa rosa imperial como a muy alta Isabel, imagem de Gabriel, repouso de Portugal, 30 seu precioso esperauel. ¶ Bem sabe Deos o que faz. PARVO. Bofe nam sabe nem isto; a virgem Maria si; mas cantelle nam he bo 35 nega pera queymar vinhas. SERRA. Isso has tu de dizer? PARVO. Quem? Deos? juro a Deos que nam faz nega o que quer. La em Coimbra estaueu 40 quando a mesma raynha pario mesmo em cas din Rey, eu vos direy como foy. Ella mesma, benzaa Deos, estaua mesmo no paço, 45 quella, quando ha de parir, poucas vezes anda fora. ¶ Ora a mesma camareyra porque he mesma de Castella, rogou aa mesma parteyra 50 que fizesse delle ella-- pere qui vay a carreyra-- sabeis porque? Porque a mesma Empenatriz pario mesmo Empenador 55 e agora estam auiados. Mas quando minha mãy paria como a virgem a liuraua tanto se lhe dauella que fosse aquelle como aquella 60 se nam ouos hũa vez. ¶ Vem Gonçalo, hũ pastor da serra, ̃q vem da corte & vem cantando: ¶ Volaua la pega y vayse. Quem me la tomasse! Andaua la pega no meu cerrado, 65 olhos morenos, bico dourado quem me la tomasse! Falado. ¶ Pardeos muy aluoraçada anda a nossa serra agora. 70 SERRA. Gonçalo, venhas embora porque eu estou abalada pera sair de mi fora. Queriauos ajuntar logo logo muyto asinha 75 pera yrmos visitar nossa Senhora a Raynha, querendo Deos ajudar. GONÇ. ¶ Eu venho agora de la & segundo o que eu vi 80 que vamos la bem seraa: isto crede vos quee assi: porque dizem que a princesa, a menina que naceo, parece cousa do ceo, 85 hũa estrela muyto acesa que na terra apareceo. SERRA. ¶ Gonçalo, eu te direy: ella ja naceo em serra e do mais fermoso Rey 90 que ha na face da terra, e de Raynha muyto bella; & mais naceo em cidade muyto ditosa pareella & de grande autoridade. 95 ¶ E mais naceo em bom dia Martes, deos dos vencim̃etos, & trouxeram logo os ventos agoa que se requeria pera todos mantimentos. 100 PARVO. Aas vezes faz Deos cousas, cousas faz elle aas vezes, atrauees como homem diz. ¶ Nega se meu embeleco vay poer as pipas em seco 105 & enche dagoa o Mondego: faraa mais hum demenesteco? engorda os vereadores & seca as pernas nas moças de cima bem toos artelhos, 110 & faz os frades vermelhos & os leygos amarelos & faz os velhos murzelos. ¶ Enruça os mancebelhões & nam atenta por nada. 115 Pedemlhe em Coimbra ceuada & elle delhes mexilhões & das solhas em cambada. GONÇ. Vos, serra, se aueis dir com serranas & pastores 120 primeyro se ham dauyr hũa manada damores que nam querem concrudir. ¶ Eu trago na fantesia de casar com Madanela 125 mas nam sey se querra ella perol eu bofee queria. ¶ Vem Felipa pastora da serra cãtãdo: ¶ A mi seguem os dous açores, hum delles moriraa damores. Dous açores que eu auia 130 aqui andam nesta baylia hum delles moriraa damores. Falado. Gonçalo, viste o meu gado? dize se o viste embora. GONÇ. Venho eu da corte agora 135 & diz que lhe de recado. FEL. Pois ja tu ca es casado, nega que esperam por ti. GONÇ. E sem mi me casam a mi? Ora estou bem auiado. 140 FEL. ¶ Nam ha hi nega casar logo & fazer vida com ella senam for com Madanela. GONÇ. Tiromeu fora do jogo. FEL. Essa he a milhor do jogo. 145 GONÇ. Essoutra sera alvarenga? FEL. Mas Catherina meygengra. GONÇ. Antes me queime mao fogo. ¶ Nam vem a Meygengra a cõto, que he descuydada perdida, 150 traz a saya descosida e nam lhe daraa hum ponto. Oo quantas lend̃es vi nella e pentear nemigalha, e por dame aquella palha 155 he mayor o riso quella. ¶ Varre & leyxa o lixo em casa, come & leyxa ali o bacio, cada dia a espanca o tio nega porque tam devassa; 160 Madanela mata a brasa. Nam cures de mais arenga e dize tu, mana, a Meygengra que va amassar outra massa. FEL. ¶ Ja teu pay tem dada a mão 165 & dada a mão feyto he. GONÇ. Par deos darlhey eu de pee comaa casca do melão. Raivo eu de coração damores de Madanela. 170 FEL. Meygengra he mais rica quella; quessa nam tem nem tostam. GONÇ. Arrenega tu do argem que me vem a dar tormento, porque hum soo contentamento 175 val quanto ouro Deos tem. Deos me dee quem quero bem ou me tire a vida toda, com a morte seja a boda antes que outra me dem. 180 FEL. Eu me you pee ante pee ver o meu gado onde vay. GONÇ. E eu quero yr ver meu pay, veremos comisto he. ¶ Vem Caterina Meyg̃egra cantando: ¶ A serra es alta, 185 o amor he grande, se nos ouuirane. FEL. ¶ Onde vas Meygengra mana? CAT. A novilha vou buscar, viste ma tu ca andar? 190 FEL. Nam na vi esta somana. Agora estora vay daqui Gonçalo que vem da corte; mana, pesoulhe de sorte quando lhe faley em ti 195 como se foras a morte, tente tamanho fastio. CAT. Inde bem, por minha vida, porque eu mana sam perdida por Fernando de meu tio. 200 Seu com elle nam casar damores mey de finar. Aborreceme Gonçalo como o cu do nosso galo, nam no queria sonhar. 205 FEL. ¶ Se tu nam queres a elle nem elle tampouco a ti. CAT. Quanta selle quer a mi negras maas nouas van delle. Deos me case com Fernando 210 & moura logo esse dia, porque me mate a alegria como o nojo vay matando. ¶ Oo Fernando de meu tio que eu vi polo meu pecado! 215 FEL. Fernando, esse teu damado, casaua comigo a furto. CAT. Dize, rogoto, ha muito? FEL. Este sabado passado. CAT. Oo Jesu, como he maluado, 220 & os hom̃es cheos denganos, que por mi vay em tres annos que diz que he demoninhado. ¶ Felipa, gingras tu ou nam? Isso creo que he chufar, 225 e se tu queres gingrar nam me des no coraçam, que o que doe nam he zõbar. FEL. Elle veo ter comigo bem oo penedo da palma 230 & disse: Felipa, minhalma, rayuo por casar com tigo; Digo eu, digo: Vay, vay nadar, que faz calma. CAT. ¶ Olha tu se zombaua elle. 235 FEL. Bem conheço eu zombaria: vi eu, porque eu nam queria, correr as lagrimas delle. CAT. Maos choros chorem por elle, que assi chora elle comigo 240 & vayselhe o gado oo trigo & sois nam olha parelle. FEL. ¶ Eu vou casuso ao cabeço por ver se vejo o meu gado. CAT. Tal me deyxas por meu fado 245 que do meu todo mesqueço. Quem soubesse no começo o cabo do que começa porque logo se conheça o queu jagora conheço. ¶ Vem Fernando cantando: 250 ¶ Com que olhos me olhaste que tam bem vos pareci? Tam asinha moluidaste? quem te disse mal de mi? CAT. ¶ A que ṽes, Fernãdo hõrrado? 255 Ver Felipa tua senhora? Venhas muito da maa hora pera ti e pera o gado. FERN. Catalina! Catalina! assi tolhes ma fala, Catalina? 260 Olha yeramaa pera mi, pois que me tu sees assi carrancuda e tam mofina quem te disse mal de mi? Com que olhos me olhaste, &c. 265 CAT. ¶ Dize, rogoto, Fernando, porque me trazes vendida? Se Felipa he a tua querida porque me andas enganando? FERN. Eu mouro, tu estaas zombando. 270 CAT. Oo que nam zombo, Jesu. Nam casauas coella tu? FERN. Eu estou della chufando. ¶ Catalina, esta he a verdade, nam creias a ninguem nada, 275 que tu me tens bem atada alma & a vida & a vontade. CAT. Pois que choraste coella nam ha hi mais no querer. FERN. De chorar bem pode ser 280 mas nam choraueu por ella. ¶ Felipa auultase contigo, vendoa fosteme lembrar, entam puseme a chorar as lembranças do meu perigo. 285 Se ella o tomou por si que culpa lhe tenho eu? Mas este amor quem mo deu deumo todo para ti & bem sabes tu quee teu. 290 CAT. Oo que grande amor te tenho & que grande mal te quero. FERN. Ja de tudo desespero, que ja mal nem bem nam quero. Teu pae tem te ja casada 295 com Gonçalo dantemão & eu fico por esse chão sem me ficar de ti nada senam dor de coraçom. ¶ Vertaas em outro poder 300 vertaas em outro logar, eu logo sem mais tardar frade prometo de ser pois os diabos quiseram & ali me deyxaram 305 tanta de maginaçam quanta teus olhos me deram desdo dia dacençam. CAT. ¶ Mas casemos, daa ca mão & dirlhey que sam casada. 310 FERN. Ja tenho palaura dada a Deos de religiam. Ja nam tenho em mi nada. CAT. Oo quantos perigos tem este triste mar damores 315 & cada vez sam mayores as tormentas que lhe vem. ¶ Se tu a ser frade vas nunca me veram marido: tu seraas frade metido, 320 porem tu me meteraas na fim da Raynha Dido. FERN. Nam se poderaa escusar de casares com Gonçalo & querendo tu escusalo 325 nam no podes acabar, que teu pae ha dacabalo. CAT. ¶ Se libera nos a malo! Nunca Deos ha de querer & Gonçalo nam me quer 330 nem eu nam quero a Gonçalo. Eylo vem, velo Fernando? bem em cima na portela; diante vem Madanela, aquella andelle buscando. 335 ¶ [FERN.] Vamolos nos espreitar ali detras do valado & veremos seu cuydado se te da em que cuydar ou se fala desuiado. 340 ¶ Vem Madanela cantando & Gonçalo detras della. Cantiga. ¶ Quando aqui choue & neva que faraa na serra? Na serra de Coimbra 345 neuaua & chouia, que faraa na serra? Falado. ¶ Gonçalo, tu a que vens? GONÇ. Madanela, Madanela! 350 MAD. Tornate maa hora & nella que tam pouco empacho t̃es! GONÇ. Madanela, Madanela! MAD. Oo decho dou eu a amargura quasi magasta, Jesu. 355 Ora tras mi te ṽes tu? GONÇ. Pois a mi se mafigura que nam maas de comer cru. ¶ Se tu me queres matar por teu ter boa vontade 360 nam pode ser de verdade. MAD. Gonçalo, torna a laurar que isso tudo he vaidade. GONÇ. Que rezam me das tu a mi pera nam casar comigo? 365 Eu ey de ter muyto trigo & ey te de ter a ti mais doce que hum pintisirgo. ¶ Nam quero que vas mondar, nam quero que andes oo sol, 370 pera ti seja o folgar e pera mi fazer prol. Queres Madanela? MAD. Gonçalo, torna a laurar porque eu nam ey de casar 375 em toda a serra destrella nem te presta prefiar. ¶ Catalina he muyto boa, fermosa quanto lhabasta, querte bem, he de boa casta 380 & bem sesuda pessoa. Toma tu o que te dão em paga do que desejas. GONÇ. Ay rogote que nam sejas aya do meu coraçam. 385 MAD. Vayte di, que paruoejas. GONÇ. ¶ Nam quero casar coella. MAD. Nem eu tam pouco com tigo. Vees? casuso vem Rodrigo tras Felipa, que he aquella 390 que nam no estima num figo. ¶ Vem Rodrigo cantando: Vayamonos ãbos, amor, vayamos, vayamonos ambos. Felipa & Rodrigo passaram o rio, amor vayamonos. 395 ¶ Felipa, como te vay? FEL. Que t̃es tu de ver co isso? Dias ha que teu auiso que vas gingrar com teu pay. ROD. Nam estou eu, mana, nisso. 400 FEL. Quem te mette a ti comigo? ROD. Felipa, olha pera ca, dame essa mão eyaramaa. FEL. Tirte, tirte eramaa laa, tu que diabo has comigo? 405 ROD. ¶ Felipa, ja tu aqui es? FEL. Rodrigo, ja tu começas? Tu t̃es das maas vãs cabeças, nam quero ser descortees. ROD. Nem queyras tu er ser assi 410 grauisca & escandalosa; mas tem graça pera mi, como tu es graciosa & fermosa pera ti. FEL. Cada hum saa de regrar 415 em pedir o que he rezam: tu pedesmo coraçam & eu nam to ey de dar porquee muy fora de mão. E quanto monta a casar 420 ainda queu guarde gado meu pay he juyz honrrado dos melhores do lugar & o mais aparentado. ¶ E andou na corte assaz 425 & faloulhe el Rey ja dizendo-lhe: Affonso vaz em fronteyra e moncarraz como val o trigo la? Ora eu pera casar ca, 430 Rodrigo, nam he rezam. ROD. Se casasses com paaçom que grande graça seraa & minha consolaçam. ¶ Que te chame de ratinha 435 tinhosa cada mea hora, inda que a alma me chora, folgarey por vida minha. Pois engeytas quem tadora; e te diga: tirte la, 440 que me cheyras a cartaxo. Pois te desprezas do bayxo o alto tabaxaraa. FEL. ¶ Quando vejo hum cortesam com pantufos de veludo 445 & hũa viola na mão tresandamo coraçam & leuame a alma & tudo. ROD. Gonçalo, vayme ajudar aacabar minha charrua 450 & eu tajudarey aa tua. Que estoutro sa dacabar quando a dita vir a sua. GONÇ. Eu sam ja desenganado quanto monta a Madanella. 455 ROD. Deuetela dir com ella como mami vay mal peccado com Felipa. GONÇ. Assi he ella. ROD. E tu, Rodrigo, em que estaas? FERN. Estou em muito & em nada, 460 porque a vida namorada tem cousas boas & maas. ¶ Vem hum hermitam & diz: HERM. ¶ Fazeyme esmola, pastores, por amor do senhor Deos. ROD. Mas faça elle esmola a nos, 465 & seja que estes amores se atem com senhos nos. HERM. O casar Deos o prouee & de Deos vem a ventura, da ventura aa criatura 470 mas com dita he por merce & tambem serue a cordura. ¶ Pondevos nas suas mãos & não cureis descolher, tomay o que vos vier 475 porque estes amores vãos teram certo arrepender. Filhas, aqui estais escritas, Filhos, tomay vossa sorte, & cada hum se comporte 480 dando graças infinitas a Deos & a el Rey & a corte. ¶ Tirou o ermitam da manga tres papelinhos & os deu aos pastores, que tomasse cada hum sua sorte & diz Fernando: ¶ Rodrigo tome primeyro, veremos como se guia. ROD. Nome da virgem Maria! 485 lede, padre, esse letreyro, se me cega ou alumia. Escri. Deos & a ventura manda que quem esta sorte ouuer tome logo por molher 490 Felipa sem mais demanda. ROD. ¶ Vencida tenho eu a batalha, Felipa, mana, vem caa. FEL. Tirte, tirte, eramaa laa, & tu cuydas que te valha? 495 Nunca teu olho veraa. GONÇ. Ora vay, Fernando, tu, veremos que te viraa. FERN. Alto nome de Jesu! lede, padre, que vay la? Escrito. 500 ¶ A sentença he ja dada & a sustancia della que cases com Madanela. MAD. Fernando, nam me da nada, seja muytembora & nella. 505 FERN. Dias ha que to eu digo & tu tinhas me fastio. CAT. Oo Fernando de meu tio quem me casara com tigo! GONÇ. ¶ Oo Madanela, yeramaa, 510 se me cayras em sorte! CAT. Ante eu morrera maa morte que Fernando ficar laa tam contrayro do meu norte. E porem nam me da nada, 515 ja me tu a mi pareces bem, Gonçalo. GONÇ. E tu a mi Catalina; mudate di y passea per hi alem, verey que aar das de ti. 520 FEL. ¶ Estouteu, Rodrigo, olhando, & vou sendo ja contente. ROD. Se de mi nam es contente nam tey dandar mais rogando. Eu andote namorando 525 & tu acossasme cada dia. CAT. Inda queu isso fazia, Rodrigo, de quando em quãdo, muy grande bem te queria. ¶ E quando eu refusaua 530 de te tomar por amigo nam ja porque eu nam folgaua mas porque te examinaua se eras tu moço atreuido. HERM. Agoro quero eu dizer 535 o que aqui venho buscar. Eu desejo dabitar hũa ermida a meu prazer onde podesse folgar. E queriaa eu achar feyta 540 por nam cãsar em fazela, que fosse a minha cella antes bem larga que estreyta & que podesse eu dançar nella. E que fosse num deserto 545 denfindo vinho & pão, & a fonte muyto perto & longe a contemplação. ¶ Muyta caça & pescaria que podesse eu ter coutada 550 & a casa temperada: no veram que fosse fria & quente na inuernada. A cama muyto mimosa & hum crauo aa cabeceyra, 555 de cedro a sua madeyra; porque a vida religiosa queria eu desta maneyra. ¶ E fosse o meu repousar & dormir atee tais horas 560 que nam podesse rezar por ouuir cantar pastoras & outras assouiar. Aa cea & jantar perdiz, o almoço moxama, 565 & vinho do seu matiz, & que a filha do juyz me fizesse sempre a cama. ¶ E em quanto eu rezasse esquecesse ella as ouelhas 570 & na cela me abraçasse & mordesse nas orelhas, inda que me lastimasse. Irmãos pois deueis saber da serra toda a guarida 575 prazauos de me dizer onde poderey fazer esta minha sancta vida. GONÇ. ¶ Estaa alli, padre, hum siluado viçoso, verde, florido, 580 com espinho tam comprido, e vos nuu alli deytado perderieis o proido. Yuos, nam esteis hi mais, porque a vida que buscais 585 nam na da Deos verdadeyro inda que lha vos peçais. SERRA. ¶ Ora, filhos, logo essora, cada hum com sua esposa, vamos ver a poderosa 590 Raynha nossa Senhora, sem nenhum de vos por grosa, porque he forçoso que va, que segundo minha fama da Raynha ey de ser ama 595 & a isso vou eu la. ¶ Que tal leyte como o meu nam no ha em Portugal, que tenho tanto & tal e tam fino Deos mo deu 600 que he manteyga & nam al. E pois ha de ser senhora de tam grande gado & terra quem outra ama lhe der erra, porque a perfeyta pastora 605 ha de ser da minha serra. GONÇ. ¶ Ha mester grandes presentes das vilas, casaes & aldea. SERRA. Mandaraa a vila de Sea quinhentos queyjos resentes, 610 todos feytos aa candea, e mais trezentas bezerras & mil ouelhas meyrinhas & dozentas cordeyrinhas taes que em nenhũas serras 615 nam se achem tam gordinhas. ¶ E Gouuea mandaraa dous mil sacos de castanha tam grossa, tam san, tamanha que se marauilharaa 620 onde tal cousa se apanha. E Manteygas lhe daraa leyte para quatorze annos, & Couilham muytos panos finos que se fazem laa. 625 ¶ Mandaraam desses casaes que estam no cume da serra pena pera cabeçaes toda de aguias Reaes, naturaes mesmo da terra. 630 E os do val dos penados & montes dos tres caminhos que estam em fortes montados mandarão empresentados trezentos forros darminhos 635 pera forrar os borcados. ¶ Eu ey lhe de presentar minas douro que eu sey com tanto que ella ou el Rey o mandem ca apanhar, 640 abasta que lho criey. GONÇ. E afora ainda aos presentes auemos lhe de cantar muyto alegres & contentes polla Deos alumiar 645 por alegria das gentes. Vem dous foliões do Sardoal, hum se chama Jorge e outro Lopo, & diz a Serra: ¶ Sois vos de Castella, manos, ou la debayxo do estremo? JOR. Agora nos faria o demo a nos outros Castellanos. 650 Queria antes ser lagarto polos sanctos auangelhos. SERRA. Donde sois? JOR. Do Sardoal, & ou bebela ou vertela, vimos ca desafiar 655 a toda a serra da estrela a cantar & a baylar. ROD. ¶ Soberba he isso perem pois haqui tantos pastores & tam finos bayladores 660 que nam ham medo a ninguem. LOPO. Muytos ratinhos vam la de ca da serra a ganhar & la os vemos cantar & baylar bem coma ca 665 & he assi desta feyçam. ¶ Canta Lopo & bayla, arremedando os da serra. ¶ E se ponerey la mano en vos Garrido amor! ¶ Hum amigo que eu auia mançanas douro menuia, 670 Garrido amor! ¶ Hum amigo que eu amaua mançanas douro me manda, Garrido amor! ¶ Mançanas douro menuia 675 a milhor era partida, Garrido amor! ¶ [Mançanas douro me manda, a milhor era quebrada, Garrido amor!] Falado. 680 ¶ Isso he, ou bem ou mal, assi como o vos fazeis. SERRA. Peçouolo que canteis aa guisa do Sardoal. LOPO. Esse he outro carrascal, 685 esperay ora & vereis: ¶ Ja nam quer minha senhora que lhe fale em apartado. Oo que mal tam alongado! ¶ Minha senhora me disse 690 que me quer falar um dia agora por meu peccado disseme que nam podia. Oo que mal tam alongado! ¶ Minha senhora me disse 695 que me queria falar, agora por meu peccado nam me quer ver nem olhar. Oo que mal tam alongado! Agora por meu peccado 700 disseme que nam podia, yrmey triste polo mundo onde me leuar a dita. Oo que mal tam alongado! ¶ Esta cantiga cantarão & baylarão de terreyro os foliões, & acabada diz Felipa: ¶ Nam vos vades vos assi, 705 leixay ora a gayta vir & o nosso tamboril, & yreis mortos daqui sem vos saberdes bolir. CAT. Em tanto por vida minha 710 seraa bem que ordenemos a nossa chacotezinha & con ella nos yremos ver el Rey e a Raynha. ¶ Ordenaramse todos estes pastores em chacota, como la se costuma, porem a cantiga della foy cantada de canto dorgam, & a letra he a seguinte: ¶ Nam me firais, madre, 715 que eu direy a verdade. ¶ Madre, hum escudeyro da nossa Raynha falou me damores, vereis que dezia, 720 eu direy a verdade. ¶ Falou me damores, vereis que dezia: quem te me tiuesse desnuda em camisa! 725 Eu direi a verdade. ¶ E com esta chacota se sayram & assi se acabou. ¶ LAUS DEO. NOTES: 0. _Esta tragecomedia pastoril foy feyta_ B. 0. _com hum parvo & diz_ C. 2. _estrella_ B. 4. _Castella_ B. 7. _yr_ B. 24. _despaña_ B. 34. _quant'elle_ C. 53, 54. _Imperatriz_, _Imperador_ C. 100. _faz un rey cousas_ B. 102. _atraues_ B. _a través_ C. 109. _tós_ C. 116. _dá-lhe_ C. 123. _phantesia_ C. 125. _querera_ B. 127. _seguem dous açores_ C. 135. _reccado_ C. 152. _lendes_ C. 159. _porque_ A, B, C, D, E. _porqu'é_ ? 161. _cures_ A, B. _cuides_ C. 167. _do melão_ A, B. _de melão_ C. 172. _Arrenega tu_ A, B. _Arrenego eu_ C. 179. _outra_ A, B. _outrem_ C. 196. _tem-te_ C. 197. _Inda_ C. 231. _com tigo_ A, B. _comtigo_ C. 261. _sês_ C. 265. _rogoto_ A. _rogo-te_ C. 276. _alma_ A. _a alma_ C. 284. _do_ A. _de_ C. 299, 300. _ver-te-has_ C. 308. _ca mão_ A, B. _ca a mão_ C. 327. _libara_ B. 328. _querelo_ A, B. _querê-lo_ C, D, E. 332. _bem_ A, B. _vem_ C, D, E. 353. _eu amargura_ B. 354. _quasi_ A, B. _qu'assi_ C. 378. _lhe basta_ C. 392. _vayamonos_ A. _vayamos_ C. 407. _maas_ A. _mais_ C. 408. _descortees_ A. _descortes_ B. _descortez_ C. 427. _moncarraz_ A, B. _Monçarraz_ C. 456. _mami_ A. _a mi_ C. 462. Desunt 462-577 in B. 469. _a creatura_ C. 477. _escriptas_ C. 482. _& diz Fernando_ A. _& diz o Ermitão_ C. 487. _Escri._ A. _(Lê o Ermitão o escrito)_ C. 498. _alto, nome_ C. 499-500. _Escrito_ A. _(Lê o Ermitão)_ C. 530: _amigo_ A, B, C, D, E. _marido_ ? 545: _D'infindo_ C. 566. Desunt 566-8 in C. 608. _Cea_ C. 609. _recentes_ C. 613. _duzentas_ C. 618. _tan grossa, tam san._ B. 628. _Aguias reaes._ B. 630. _penedos._ B. _Penados._ C. 635. _brocados._ C. 645-6. Desunt _hum se chama._ et _outro._ in C. _Iorge._ C. 647. _extremo._ C. 649. _Castelhanos._ C. 655. _estrella_ B. 660. _ham_ A. _ha hi_ C. 668. _auia, havia_ A, B, C, D, E. _queria_? 685-6. _Cantiga_ B. 711. _chacotezinha_ A, B. _chacotazinha_ C. 713-4. _he a seguinte Cantiga_ C. Note. ad fin. ¶ _Laus Deo_ B. ENGLISH TRANSLATION: _Pastoral tragicomedy of the Serra da Estrella._ _A pastoral tragicomedy made in honour of and played before the very powerful and catholic King Dom John III of Portugal on the delivery of the most high Queen Dona Caterina our lady and the birth of the most illustrious Infanta Dona Maria, afterwards Princess of Castille, in the city of Coimbra in the Year of the Lord 1527._ _Enters the Serra da Estrella and says:_ Joy that shakes and wakes the hill, The mighty mountain-range of me, Will increase the swelling sea And the sky with singing fill 5 Till Castilla dance in glee. And in this hour it is my will That the whole of me, no less, To Coimbra as a shepherdess, A Beira peasant-girl, shall come, 10 Since in Beira is my home. With me thither they who are mine, The hill-girls of nut-brown tresses, Each with her lover shall repair, Yea and all the shepherdesses 15 Who flocks upon my pastures keep. And the choicest of the kine And of the merino sheep, That I may have to offer there A present to our Queen of Queens 20 Who is fairest of the fair. Mistress she of broad demesnes Came unto our mountain land And among the hills hath she Borne a new princess of Spain 25 That we give to her again, Even a rose imperial As the most high Isabel, An image of Gabriel For the repose of Portugal, 30 Its precious ward and canopy. So clearly is God's purpose planned. _Fool._ Good faith, no, not a whit he knows But the Virgin Mary knows. But he unto no good inclines 35 And only serves to burn the vines. _Serra._ What a thing for thee to say! _Fool._ Who? God? why, now, I swear to God That He must always have His way. For I was at Coimbra, I, 40 At the time this very queen In the palace bore a daughter: I will tell you all about it. This same queen, and may God bless her, The queen herself was in the palace, 45 For, you know, on such occasions She is rarely seen outside it. And the Lady of the Bedchamber, For she's from Castille, they say At this very time began to pray 50 A girl, not a boy, be given her. (Even here, see, goes our way) And would you know the reason why? The Empress had just before Given birth unto an Emperor, 55 And they will marry by and by. 'Twas different with my mother, she Cared not whether it might be A boy or eke a girl by chance But unto the Virgin Mary 60 Prayed she for deliverance. _Enter Gonçalo, a shepherd of the Serra, who comes from the Court, singing:_ Flying, the magpie has flown away, O that 'twere brought to me again: In yonder covert 'Twas mine at will, 65 With its dark-brown eyes And its golden bill. O that 'twere brought to me again! By Heaven in fine trim to-day Our Serra is and all aglow! 70 _S._ Come, Gonçalo, come away, For I minded am to go, Leaving these my haunts straightway, Gathering you all together Forthwith and without delay 75 That we may all journey thither A visit to our queen to pay If God assist us on our way. _G._ I am now come even thence And from all that I could tell 80 Our going thither will be well, Aye, 'twill be no vain pretence, For the child of royal line, The princess that has now had birth Seems, they say, a thing divine, 85 A star that ceases not to shine Though it has appeared on earth. _S._ I'll tell thee how it is, I ween: Her birth is in a hill-country, Of a king fairest to be seen 90 Of all that are upon the earth And of a most lovely queen. And she is born in a city Which will bless her and blest has been And of great authority. 95 On lucky day too was she born, Of Mars, the god of victory, And the winds that very morn Brought rain needed instantly For the birth of grass and corn. 100 _Fool._ Sometimes God, it is a fact, Sometimes, I say, God doth act All upside down, as one might say. For unless I'm much mistaken Mondego will be in flood 105 And all the wine from the casks be taken: Could a demon do less good? For He so brings it about That the aldermen grow stout And like dry sticks girls wither away, 110 Purple the friars wax and red, Yellow and jaundiced are the lay, And lusty they whose youth is fled While the young grow weak and grey And for nothing doth He care. 115 At Coimbra when for oats they pray Of mussels enough and e'en to spare And fish likewise He sends straightway. _G._ Serra, if you would fain go With shepherds and with shepherdesses 120 First their loves of long ago Must mutual agreement show That as yet no ending blesses. And for my part willingly Would I Madanela wed, 125 That design is in my head But I know not if she'll agree. _Enter Felipa, a shepherdess of the Serra, singing:_ Two falcons to follow me have I, But one of them of love shall die. Two falcons had I, and the twain 130 Are here with me, being of love's train, But one of them of love shall die. (_Spoken:_) _F._ Gonçalo, hast thou seen my sheep, Tell me hast thou seen them now? _G._ From the town I am just returned and trow 135 That I for thee thy flocks must keep. _F._ Well, thou hast been married here: They only for thy coming stay. _G._ What, married ere I can appear? Then am I in a pretty way. 140 _F._ Nay thou must marry on thy return And must go and live with her Unless Madanela thou wouldst prefer. _G._ From the game's chance aside I turn. _F._ Wouldst thou the best of them all thus spurn? 145 _G._ Is it, is it Alvarenga? _F._ No, but Catherine Meigengra. _G._ In evil fire would I rather burn. Of Meigengra is no question here: The greatest slattern, I assert, 150 Is she and if unsewn her skirt Not a stitch will it get from her, And though she covered be with dirt Yet will she never comb her hair, And at the merest word will she 155 Be vanquished of laughter utterly. She sweeps and lets the sweepings lie, She eats and will never wash the dishes, Her uncle beats her hourly, So laxly doth she flout his wishes. 160 Madanela's the apple of my eye. And there is no more to be said But tell Meigengra presently To reckon on another head. _F._ Thy father has given his hand, thus clinching 165 The matter beyond any flinching. _G._ To give her my foot would I be willing As if she were a melon's rind, But as for me, my heart and mind With love of Madanela are thrilling. 170 _F._ Yet richer Meigengra thou'lt find, For Madanela has not a shilling. _G._ A curse upon money, say I, Which only brings me fresh distress: A single hour of happiness 175 'S worth all the gold beneath the sky. God give me but the girl I love Or deprive me of life's breath, And my marriage be with death If to her I faithless prove. 180 _F._ Well, I must go instantly After my flocks and see how they fare. _G._ And I to my father will repair And find out how this thing may be. _Enter Catherina Meigengra, singing:_ Lofty the mountain-height, 185 But stronger is love's might, Could he but hear! _F._ Whither, Meigengra, sister, away? _C._ 'Tis the heifer I go to seek, Hast thou seen it here, I pray? 190 _F._ I have not seen it all this week. But Gonçalo is just gone hence, Even from the Court came he And I gave him great offence When I spoke to him of thee, 195 As if thou wert a pestilence, Such disaffection hast thou won. _C._ And by my life I'm glad of it For, sister, I have lost my wit For Ferdinand, my uncle's son. 200 If I do not marry him I will surely die of love. But Gonçalo can only move My thoughts, yes even in a dream, To distaste and weariness. 205 _F._ If for him thou dost not care He for thee cares even less. _C._ Bad luck to him through all the land If to think of me he dare. But if Heaven only planned 210 My marriage with Ferdinand Death to me that day welcome were, Joy's victim, not of this distress. O Ferdinand, my uncle's son, For thee was all this love begun! 215 _F._ This your love, your Ferdinand, Secretly offered me his hand. _C._ Was that long ago, I pray? _F._ It was but on last Saturday. _C._ What a villain then is he, 220 And men how full of all deceits, For he these last three years repeats That he's distraught for love of me. Felipa, dost thou speak in jest? I think indeed thou triflest, 225 But if with words thou wouldest play, Do not play upon my heart Since no jest is in the smart. _F._ He came to me in the heat of the day, To the rock of the palm came he, 230 'Felipa, my life,' said he straightway, 'I am mad to marry thee.' And I say, say I to him: 'Go away and have a swim.' _C._ Perhaps he was but mocking thee. 235 _F._ Nay I know what's mockery And because I said him No I could see his tears downflow. _C._ Ill be the tears that are so shed, For with me also he will weep, 240 And the crops may be eaten by his sheep, He does not even turn his head. _F._ Well, I must go up the hill, Perhaps my flock may be in sight. _C._ Thou leavest me in a plight so ill 245 That I've forgotten mine outright. If one could but only know All the end in the beginning That one might have straightway so Knowledge that I now am winning! _Enter Ferdinand, singing:_ 250 With what eyes thou lookedst upon me That so fair I seemed to thee: How have other thoughts now won thee? Who has spoken ill of me? _C._ Good Ferdinand, art thou here 255 To see Felipa, thy lady dear? But may thy coming even be Ill for thy flock and ill for thee. _F._ Catherina, thus wouldst thou Deprive me of all power of speech? 260 Look straight at me, I beseech. But if thus thou changest now With lowering and angry brow, 'Who has spoken ill of me? With what eyes thou lookedst upon me?' etc. 265 _C._ Tell me, Ferdinand, I pray Why thou wouldest me betray? If Felipa is thy love, Why me thus with treachery prove? _F._ By my life, thou'rt mocking me today. 270 _C._ O no, I jest not: didst not say That thou with her wouldst gladly wed? _F._ 'Twas but for fun the words were said. In what I say will truth be found And believe no one else, I pray. 275 For as for me my life alway And soul and will in thee are bound. _C._ With weeping since thy eyes were red Needs must be that thou lov'st her well. _F._ I may have wept, I cannot tell, 280 But not for her my tears were shed. Felipa's not unlike thee, so At sight of her I thought of thee And fell to weeping bitterly At memory of all my woe. 285 And if she thought my tears did flow For her, how should I be to blame? For my love ever is the same On thee, thee only to bestow, And that it's thine well dost thou know. 290 _C._ How I hate thee, how I love thee, Ferdinand, were it mine to prove thee! _F._ Now despair I utterly, Yes, I am most desperate, And good and ill come all too late. For thy father has married thee 295 To Gonçalo, and desolate I here remain, alone, deserted, Nothing of thee left to me But to be thus broken-hearted. And another's shalt thou be, 300 Taken to another place, And I, by the Devil's grace, Promise that I instantly Will a monk become: in fine So much of thee shall be mine 305 In imagination's play As was given me on that day When thine eyes began to shine. _C._ Nay, but give me thy hand instead And I will say that I am wed. 310 _F._ Alas I have nothing now to give. My promise is already said That I will in a convent live. _C._ How many perils mar the peace Of this gloomy sea of love, 315 From day to day they still increase And its tempests greater prove. If a monk then thou must be Husband mine will ne'er be seen: If a monk thou must be, for me 320 Thou leavest of necessity The fate of Dido, hapless queen. _F._ Thou wilt find no sure escape With Gonçalo not to marry, For whatever plans thou shape 325 Thou wilt never round the cape And thy father the day will carry. _C._ O deliver us from ill! May such never be my lot, For Gonçalo loves me not, 330 And Gonçalo I love less still. But there he comes, see, Ferdinand, Above there in the mountain pass, And Madanela goes before, She it is that he searches for. 335 _F._ Behind this hedge here we will stand And listen to them as they pass And we will see what's in his mind And if to thee he be inclined Or if thou art given o'er. 340 _Enter Madanela, singing, and behind her Gonçalo:_ (_Song:_) When here below there's rain and snow What will it be on the mountain-height? On the hills of Coimbra 'twas snowing 345 and raining, What will it be on the mountain-height? (_Spoken:_) Gonçalo, what is your pretence? _G._ Madanela, Madanela! 350 _M._ Go back at once, I say, go hence, Since thou hast so little sense. _G._ Madanela, Madanela! _M._ What another plague is here, What annoyance, by my soul! 355 What, wouldst thou now follow me? _G._ I suppose I need not fear That thou shouldst eat me whole. But if me thou wouldest kill Because of this my love for thee 360 Not serious surely is thy will. _M._ Gonçalo, go back, go back to thy plough, For all this is but vanity. _G._ What reason canst thou give me now To refuse to marry me? 365 I shall have of wheat enow And thy life with me shall be As a goldfinch's free from toil. I will not have thee hoe the soil, I will not have thee work in the sun, 370 But thou shalt sit and take thy ease And by me all the work be done. Art thou willing, Madanela? _M._ Gonçalo, go back, go back to thy plough, With none will I marry, I avow, 375 In the whole Serra da Estrella, In vain wilt thou persist and tease. Catalina is a very good girl And fair enough, though not a pearl, Comes of good stock and loves thee well, 380 And she is very sensible. Then take what's offered thee and so Shalt balm of thy desire know. _G._ Nay, but I pray thee do not seek To teach my heart what way to go. 385 _M._ Go hence, if nonsense thou must speak. _G._ I say I will not marry her. _M._ And I will not marry thee. But yonder comes Rodrigo, see, After Felipa, and I aver 390 That not a fig for him cares she. _Enter Rodrigo, singing:_ My love, let's be going, be going together, Be going together. Rodrigo and Felipa were crossing the river, My love, let's be going. 395 How is it, Felipa, with thee? _F._ And what business is that of thine? Days past I've bidden thee thy chatter To thy father to confine. _R._ But that, my dear, does not suit me. 400 _F._ And why drag me into the matter? _R._ Felipa, turn thy eyes this way And give me that fair hand of thine. _F._ Away, away with thee, I say, What art thou to me, in the name of evil? 405 _R._ So, Felipa, thou art here, I see. _F._ Rodrigo, wouldst thou begin again? If ever there was feather-brain, But I would not be uncivil. _R._ Would then that thou mightest be 410 Now less shrewish and unkind. Yet even that is to my mind, So charming art thou unto me So graceful and so fair to see. _F._ Everyone should regulate 415 At reason's bidding his request, Thou my heart requirest But I cannot give thee that Nor listen to thee save in jest. And as to my marrying I wis, 420 Although I keep the sheep, withal An honoured judge my father is And by his side the rest are small, He's best related of them all. At Court too he's been many a day 425 And the king once spoke to him, to say: 'In the district of Monsarraz And Fronteira, Affonso Vaz, What is the price of wheat, I pray?' So that here to marry would be for me, 430 Rodrigo, to act unreasonably. _R._ Shouldest thou a courtier marry What amusement unto me And consolation that would carry! For if as a country-lout he harry 435 Thee all day and for evermore, Would I, what though my heart should grieve, Rejoice, since, though I thee adore, Me thus contemptuously dost thou leave, And if he bid thee keep thy place 440 As being but of low degree: Since thou despisest such as me Thee shall the mighty then abase. _F._ When I see a courtier fine With his velvet slippers, and 445 His viola in his hand, 'Tis all up with this heart of mine Nor can I his ways withstand. _R._ Gonçalo, come help me now At the labour of my plough 450 And I'll help thee anon with thine. For as to the other 'twill be in fine When its fortune shall allow. _G._ As for Madanela, I Have ceased at last my luck to try. 455 _R._ Ah! then the same thing it must be As with Felipa and me. _G._ Yes, 'tis even so we stand. _R._ And how is't with thee, Ferdinand? _F._ I am in both smiles and frowns, 460 And a lover's life is planned In a maze of ups and downs. _Enters a hermit who says:_ _H._ Shepherds, for love of God, on me Pray bestow your charity. _R._ Rather him it now behoves 465 Charitable towards us to be And tie the knots of all our loves. _H._ Marrying is in God's hand And from Him comes fortune too, For by His especial grace 470 All men fortune may embrace And good sense assists thereto. Place yourselves beneath His sway, Take not any thought to choose But receive what comes your way, 475 For these idle loves, I say, You'll in sure repentance lose. Your names, my daughters, here you leave; My sons, now each your lot receive: Behave yourselves in such a sort 480 That you your infinite thanks shall give To God, and to the King and Court. _The hermit takes from his sleeve three small written pieces of paper and gives them to the shepherds that each may take his lot, and Ferdinand says:_ Rodrigo shall the first lot claim. We'll see now if he acts aright. _R._ In the Virgin Mary's name 485 Read it, padre, for the same Brings to me my day or night. _The hermit reads the writing:_ 'By Fortune's and by God's command Whosoever draws this lot Shall to Felipa give his hand, 490 Shall do so and reason not.' _R._ I have won the victory, Felipa, come hither to me, my dear. _F._ Away with thee, away, dost hear, Thinkest thou this will profit thee? 495 Ne'er such a victory shalt thou see. _G._ Draw thy lot now, Ferdinand, Let's see what for thee is planned. _F._ Here goes then in the name of Heaven; Read, padre, what is written there. _The hermit reads:_ 500 'The sentence is already given And its substance doth declare That thou shalt Madanela wed.' _M._ Well, Ferdinand, I do not care, If it must be so, no more be said. 505 _F._ Many a day hast thou heard that from me But thou e'er hadst me in disdain. _C._ O Ferdinand, my uncle's swain, Would that I might marry thee! _G._ O Madanela, if only now 510 We had come together, I and thou. _C._ Rather might I straight expire Than that Ferdinand should stay there So remote from my desire. Yet I do not greatly care, 515 Since to thee I am inclined, Gonçalo. _G._ And even so, Catalina, art thou to my mind, But come away that I may know What graces I in thee shall find. 520 _F._ Rodrigo, as I look upon thee I begin to grow content. _R._ If to that I have not won thee By me no further prayers be spent. For while I have courted thee 525 Daily hast thou flouted me. _C._ Though from time to time I thus, Rodrigo, behaved, truly Very fond was I of thee. And when most contemptuous 530 Thy wife I refused to be 'Twas not that I had no love But, that I tested thee, to prove The heart of thy audacity. _Hermit._ Now I have a mind to say 535 What I came to look for here. For my wish it is to stay In a hermitage that may Yield me plenty of good cheer. Ready-made would I find it: ill 540 Could I all these joys fulfil Worn out by toil and labour fell. Wide not narrow be my cell That I may dance therein at will; Be it in a desert land 545 Yielding wine and wheat alway, With a fountain near at hand And contemplation far away. Much fish and game in brake and pool Must I have for my own preserve 550 And as for my house it must never swerve From an even temperature, cool In summer and in winter warm. Yes, and a comfortable bed Would not do me any harm, 555 All of it of cedar-wood, A harpsichord hung at its head: So do I find a monk's life good. I would lie and take my rest And sleep on far into the day 560 So that I could not my matins say For noise of the whistling and the singing Of shepherdesses' songs clear ringing. On partridge would I sup and dine, Of stockfish should my luncheon be 565 And of wine the very best. And the Judge's daughter should make for me The bed on which I would recline. And even as my beads I tell She should forget her flock of sheep 570 And embrace me in my cell And bite my ears and make me weep: Yes, even thus it would be well. My brothers, since you know, I trow The recesses of each vale and hill 575 Be good enough to tell me now Where best I may so have my will And this holy life fulfil. _G._ Yonder, padre, there's a briar All in flower, thick and green, 580 And its thorns are long and dire: Naked laid thereon, I ween You would soon lose your desire. Go and make no further stay, For the life you wish to live 585 The true God will never give Howsoe'er for it you pray. _Serra._ Come, my sons, now come away, Each with his fair bride to-day, That our Queen and Sovereign we 590 May go visit speedily, And let none of you gainsay, For you must go all together, Since, if report say true, I ween I as nurse must serve the Queen 595 And therefore do I go thither. Such milk as mine you will not find No, not in all Portugal, So plentiful and such kind As God has blessèd me withal: 600 Pure butter were not more refined. And since she will be princess Of such flocks and all this land, No other nurse shall be to hand, For the perfect shepherdess 605 My hill-sides alone command. _G._ From every village, house and town Great presents must with us come down. _S._ The town of Sea of its store Shall five hundred cheeses send 610 All home-made, and furthermore Of calves will she send thrice five score And of her merino sheep A thousand, and lambs two hundred keep So fat that on no hills you'll find 615 Any more unto your mind. And two thousand sacks Gouvea Of chestnuts that there abound Of such size, so fine and round That all men will wonder where 620 Things so excellent are found. And Manteigas will prepare A store of milk for years twice seven, By Covilham much fine cloth be given That is manufactured there. 625 From the houses in the heather High upon the mountain-top, For pillows shall be sent a crop All of royal eagles' feather That men there are wont to gather. 630 From the Penados vale below And the hills where three roads meet That through rough mountain country go They will send as present meet Three hundred ermines white as snow 635 As edging of brocades to show. Mines of gold too I will bring And give all I have within If the Queen and if the King Order it to be brought in: 640 Plenty is there there to win. _G._ And with presents none the less Will we in her honour sing With great joy and revelling That God hath willed the Queen to bless 645 For her people's happiness. _Enter two players from Sardoal, Jorge and Lopo, and the Serra says:_ From Castille, brothers, do you hale Or from down yonder in the vale? _J._ Now in the devil's name, amen, They would have us be Castilian men 650 A lizard I would rather be By the Holy Gospels verily. _S._ Well and from what land come you then? _J._ From Sardoal, and by your leave We are come hither to defy 655 The Serra our challenge to receive With us in song and dance to vie. _R._ 'Tis a proud challenge for your ill, For shepherds are so many here And their dancing of such skill 660 That of none need they have fear. _L._ Many peasants come yonder too From the hills for sustenance And we watch them sing and dance Even as up here they do: 665 Their way of it shall you see at a glance. _Lopo sings and dances in imitation of the men of the Serra:_ Ah, should I lay my hand on you, Love, fair my love. A friend of mine, a friend of old, Sends unto me apples of gold, 670 How fair is love! A friend I loved, even my friend, Apples, apples of gold doth send. So fair is love! Apples of gold he sends amain, 675 The best of them was cleft in twain, So fair is love! [Apples of gold he sends to me, The best was cleft for all to see. How fair is love!] (_Spoken:_) 680 That I think is, well or ill, How you dance on fell and hill. _S._ But now I would have you sing As in Sardoal they do. _L._ That is quite another thing, 685 Wait then and I'll show it you: Now no more my lady wills That I speak with her alone. How am I now woe-begone! On a day my lady said 690 That she would fain speak with me, Now I for my sins atone Since she says it may not be. How am I now woe-begone! For to me my lady said 695 That she fain would speak with me, Now I for my sins atone Since me now she will not see. How am I now woe-begone! Now I for my sins atone 700 Since she says it may not be, Through the world will I begone Where'er fortune carry me. How am I now woe-begone! _The players sing this song, dancing together, and when it is finished Felipa says:_ I pray you go not away so, 705 But wait until the fiddle come, O wait until you hear the drum, Then how to move you'll scarcely know So dead with dancing shall you go. _C._ And meanwhile by my life I ween 710 'Twere well that we our dance and song Should order here upon the green And we will go with it along To see the King and see the Queen. _All these shepherds took their places in the dance after their custom, but its song was sung to the accompaniment of the organ and with the following words:_ O strike me not, mother, 715 The truth I'm confessing. For, mother, a squire Of our queen all on fire With love came to woo me: Of what he said to me 720 The truth I'm confessing. He came for to woo me And 'O,' said he to me, 'Were you in my power, Alone without dower!' 725 The truth I'm confessing. _And with this dance they went out and the play ended._ ¶ LAUS DEO. NOTES AUTO DA ALMA PAGE 1 The _Auto da Alma_, produced probably in 1518, which in some sense forms a Portuguese pendant to the _Recuerde el alma_ of Jorge Manrique (1440?-79), is a Passion play, corresponding to the modern _Stabat_ on the eve of Good Friday, and was suggested, perhaps, by Juan del Enzina's _Representacion a la muy bendita pasion y muerte de nuestro precioso Redentor._ It was not, however, acted in a convent or church, but in the new riverside palace which saw so many splendid _serões_ during King Manuel's reign (1495-1521). King Manuel was now in the full tide of prosperity. His sister, Queen Lianor or Eleanor (1458-1525), Gil Vicente's patroness, who so keenly encouraged Portuguese art and literature, was the widow (and first cousin) of his predecessor, King João II. The theme of the play, the contention of Angel and Devil for the possession of a human soul, was far from new. Its treatment, however, was original and the versification is clear-cut and well sustained throughout, while a deep sincerity and glowing fervour raise the whole play to the loftiest heights. The metre is mostly in verses of seven short (8848484) lines (_abcaabc_) with an occasional slight variation. There is a French version of the play, presumably in verse (see _Durendal_, No. 10: Oct. 1913: _Le Mystère de l'Âme_; tr. J. Vandervelden and Luis de Almeida Braga), but the difficult task of translating it would require, to be successful, the delicate precision of a Théophile Gautier. In his hands it might have become in French a thing of beauty and a joy for ever, as it is in the original Portuguese. As to the text, without emulating the pedantry of the critic who added a fourth season to Shelley's three, and thereby provoked a splendid outburst of wrath from Swinburne, we may assume that in passages where Vicente appears to have gone out of his way to avoid a required rhyme, this is merely a case of corruption repeated in successive editions. Thus in the _Auto Pastoril Portugues_, where _Catalina minha dama_ rhymes with _toucada_ we may perhaps substitute _fada_ for _dama_. (Cf. _Serra da Estrella_, l. 530: _amigo_ for _marido_.) So here verse 114 must read _tristeza_, not _tristura_, to rhyme with _crueza_. In 3 one of the _mantimentos_ should perhaps be _alimentos_: see Lucas Fernández, _Farsas_ (1867), p. 247 (cf. the two _vaydades_ in 14); in 26 _fortunas_ should probably read _farturas_ (cf. _essas farturas_ in the _Dialogo sobre a Ressurreiçam_); in 35 the words _mui fermosos_, or a single longer word, have evidently dropped out; in 54 _tendes_ was perhaps an alteration by some critic who did not realize that the Angel might naturally associate itself with the Church (or with the Soul) and say _temos_; the last line of 100 was perhaps the word _pecadora_ or _e senhora_ (cf. Fr. Luis de León, _Los Nombres de Cristo_, Bk I: _mi única abogada y señora_); in 108 also a line is missing and a rhyme required for _figura_ (_lavrado_ must go with _Deos_, _triste_ with _vereis_, omitting _seu_). On the other hand it is hardly necessary to alter 42 or 45 (although here _esmaltado_ is in the air) or 46 so as to make them exactly fit the metre. 1 _perigos dos immigos_, cf. _Os Trabalhos de Jesus_, 1665 ed. p. 94: _o caminho do Ceo he cercado de inimigos e perigos para o perder. Qualibus in tenebris vitae quantisque periclis Degitur hoc aevi quodcunque est!_ 7 Cf. Newman, _The Dream of Gerontius_, l. 292 _et seq._: O man, strange composite of heaven and earth, Majesty dwarfed to baseness, fragrant flower, etc. 7-10 These exquisite verses have something of the scent and perfection of wild flowers, and that mystic rapture which is not to be found in Goethe's more worldly _Faust_. We may, if we like, call the _Auto da Alma_ (as also the witch-scene in the _Auto das Fadas)_ a 16th century _Faust_, but really no parallel can be drawn between the two plays. The ethereal beauty of Vicente's lyrical _auto_, carved in delicate ivory, is far less varied and human: it has scarcely a touch of the cynicism and not a touch of the coarseness of Goethe's splendid work cast in bronze. It can be compared at most with such lyrical passages as _Christ ist erstanden_ or _Ach neige, Du Schmerzenreiche, Dein Antlitz gnädig meiner Not_, and as a whole is a mere lily of the valley by the side of a purple hyacinth. 9 _Planta sois e caminheira_. Cf. the white-flowered 'wayfaring tree.' 16-17 This passage resembles those in the Spanish plays _Prevaricación de Adán_ and _La Residencia del Hombre_ quoted in the _Revista de Filología Española_, t. IV (1917), No. 1, p. 15-17. 17 Cf. _The Dream of Gerontius_, l. 280 _et seq._: 'Then was I sent from Heaven to set right, etc.' 18 _porá grosa_, attack, criticize, gloss. (= _glosar_. Cf. the modern 'to grouse.') 35 Cf. Antonio Prestes, _Auto dos Cantarinhos_ (_Obras_, 1871 ed. p. 457): _todo Valença em chapins_. The _chapim_ was rather a high-heeled shoe than a slipper. The reference is to the Spanish city Valencia del Cid. Cf. Fr. Juan de la Cerda ap. R. Altamira, _Historia de España_, III, 728: 'En una mujer ataviada se ve un mundo: mirando los chapines se verá a Valencia'; Alonso Jerónimo de Salas Barbadillo in _El Cortesano Descortés_ (1621) speaks of 'un presente de chapines valencianos'; and in _La Pícara Justina_ (1912 ed. vol. I, p. 70) we have 'un chapin valenciano.' 38 _marcante_. In the _Auto da Feira_ the Devil is similarly a _bufarinheiro_ (pedlar) and _mercante_. 43 _a for da corte_. _For_ = _foro_ (v. Gonçalvez Viana, _A postilas_, vol. I, p. 353). 58 Cf. Plato, _Respublica_, 365: ̃̓αδικητέον κὰι θυτέον ̓απ̀ο τ̑ων αδικημάτων, κ.τ.λ. Vicente in his plays often inculcates the need of something more than a formal religion. _xiquer_. Cf. _Auto da Barca do Inferno_: _Isto hi xiquer irá_. 59-60 These two verses are in the true spirit of Goethe's Mephistopheles. 62 _esta peçonha_. Would Vicente have written thus (cf. 66 and _Obras_, III, 344, sermon addressed to Queen Lianor; and also Garcia de Resende, _Miscellanea_, 1917 ed. p. 50) of the soul had there been the slightest gossip or suspicion that his patroness, Queen Lianor, had poisoned her husband? (See the most interesting studies in _Critica e Historia_, por Anselmo Braamcamp Freire, vol. I. Lisbon, 1910.) 71 Cf. _The Dream of Gerontius_, l. 210-1: Nor do I know my attitude, Nor if I stand or lie or sit or kneel. 73 _day passada_ = _perdoai_, _dai licença_. Cf. Jorge Ferreira de Vasconcellos, _Eufrosina_, II, 5. 1616 ed. f. 79 v. 77 In Basque _pastorales_ one of the main attributes of the devils and the wicked is that they are never quiet on the stage. In the _Auto da Cananea_ (1534), a play in many ways resembling the _Auto da Alma_, the line _Como andas desosegado_ recurs, addressed by Belzebu to Satanas. It is the 'incessant pacing to and fro' of _The Dream of Gerontius_ (l. 446). In its beauty and intensity as a whole and in many details Cardinal Newman's _The Dream of Gerontius_ is strikingly similar to the _Auto da Alma_. But in it the strife is o'er, the battle won, and the sanctified soul, rising refreshed from sleep with a feeling of 'an inexpressive lightness and sense of freedom,' passes serenely, accompanied by its guardian angel, above the 'sullen howl' of the demons in the middle region. Cf. _Calte por amor de Deus, leixai-me, não me persigais_ with 'But hark! upon my sense Comes a fierce hubbub which would make me fear _Could I be frighted_' (l. 395-7). 80 Cf. Amador Arraez, _Dialogos_, No. 1, 1604 ed. f. lv.: _S. Jeronimo diz que é grande o reino, potencia e alçada das lagrimas...atormentam mais aos Demonios que a pena infernal_. 84 The author of the _Vexilla regis_ hymn was Venantius Fortunatus (530-600). 95 Cf. Antonio Feo, _Trattados Quadragesimais_ (1609), II f. 23: _assy na Cruz como no monte Oliueto chorou porque vio vir a quem ouuera de chorar_. 97 Cf. Gomez Manrique, _Fechas para la Semana Santa_ (ap. M. Pelayo, _Antología_, t. III, p. 92). 108 Cf. Juan del Enzina, _Teatro_ (1893), p. 39: _Veis aqui donde vereis Su figura figurada Del original sacada_. 116 _dais o seu a cujo he_, cf. _Triunfo do Inverno_: _Porque se devem de dar As cousas a cujas são_; _C. Res._ I (1910), p. 64: _dar o seu a cujo hee_. 121 Cf. Gomez Manrique, _Fechas_ (_Antolog._ t. III, p. 93): Y vamos, vamos al huerto Do veredes sepultado Vuestro fijo muy prouado De muy cruda muerte muerto. EXHORTAÇAO DA GUERRA PAGE 23 The expedition to capture from the Moors the important town of Azamor in N. W. Africa consisted of over 400 ships (Luis Anriquez in his poem in the _Cancioneiro Geral_ says 450) and a force of 18,000 soldiers, of which 3000 were provided by James, Duke of Braganza, who commanded the expedition. It set sail from Lisbon on the 17th of August, 1513. (Damião de Goes and Osorio say the 17th, Luis Anriquez the 15th, which was evidently the day (the Feast of the Assumption) fixed for departure.) It was entirely successful and the news of the fall of Azamor caused great rejoicings both at Lisbon and Rome. The play was evidently touched up afterwards, for it includes the sending of the elephant to Rome (1514) and the marriages of the princesses. It is barely possible that it was written after the victory, in which case the words _na partida_ would be retrospective and the date given in the 1st edition was not a slip. Parts of the play suit 1514 better than 1513. Tristão da Cunha's special mission (cf. lines 195-6) to the Pope (with Garcia de Resende for secretary) left early in 1514 and entered Rome on March 12. One of the objects of the mission was to obtain a grant of the tithes (ll. 194, 224) for the Crown to use for the war in Africa. (The request was granted but King Manuel subsequently renounced them in return for 150,000 gold coins.) The exhortations of l. 351 _et seq._, l. 514 _et seq._, l. 559 _et seq._ are better suited to a time when more men and money were needed actively to continue the war than when an army of 18,000 was equipped and ready to leave. The Pope in 1514 promised indulgences to all those who should contribute money for the African war and also granted King Manuel a portion of church property in Portugal (cf. ll. 475-84 and 535-48) for the same object (l. 546: _pera Africa conquistar_). The King's aim is now to build a cathedral in Fez (l. 573-4). There is no mention of Azamor. This was the first of the great patriotic outbursts (cf. the _Auto da Fama_ and other plays) in which Vicente appears not as a satirist or religious reformer but as an enthusiastic imperialist, and which still delight and stir his countrymen. 18 Prince Luis (1506-55), one of the most gallant, talented and interesting of Portuguese _infantes_, was no doubt present at the _serão_ and would be delighted by this reference. (The youngest princes, Afonso, born in 1509, and Henrique, born in 1512, are not mentioned. They both became Cardinals and the latter King of Portugal, 1578-80.) The princes are similarly addressed in the _Cortes de Jupiter_ in 1521. 46 Mercury opens the _Auto da Feira_ with a similar string of absurdities (suggested by Enzina's _perogrulladas_), e.g. _Que se o ceo fora quadrado Não fora redondo, Senhor; E se o sol fora azulado D'azul fora seu cor_. (If square the sky were found then it would not be round, and if the sun were blue then blue would be its hue.) _Os disparates de 'Joan de Lenzina'_ (Ferreira, _Ulys._ IV, 7) were well-known in Portugal. 94, 113, 129 No meaning is to be squeezed out of these cabbalistic words. 116 We have an even more detailed description in the _Sumario da Historia de Deos_: A furna das trevas, ponte de navalhas, o lago dos prantos, a horta dos dragos, os tanques da ira, os lagos da neve, os raios ardentes, sala dos tormentos, varanda das dores, cozinha dos gritos, Açougue das pragas, a torre dos pingos, o valle das forcas. 125 Vicente was more tolerant than most contemporary writers who inveighed against the blindness and malice of the Jews. 132 The necromancer evokes spirits which he is unable to control. He calls them brothers but they answer in effect: 'Du gleich'st dem Geist den du begreif'st, nicht mir.' 151 The _almude_ = 12 gallons. 156 Cabrela e Landeira is a village near Montemôr-o-Novo. Cf. _Sum. da Hist. de Deos_: _Satanas_: Sabes Rio-frio e toda aquela terra, aldea Gallega, a Landeira e Ranginha e de Lavra a Coruche? Tudo é terra minha. 157 Cartaxo, a small town in the district of Santarem. 158 The village of Lumiar is now connected with Lisbon by a tramway. 159 Mealhada, a parish in the district of Aveiro. 162 Cf. _uva terrantes_ (indigenous). 164 Ribatejo = the country along the river Tejo (Tagus). Cf. _Auto da Feira_: _Vai-te ao sino do Cranguejo, Signum Cancer, Ribatejo._ 168 Arruda dos Vinhos and Caparica are villages in a vine-growing district on the left bank of the Tagus opposite Lisbon, near Almada. 173 _estrema_ = _marco_ (Sp. _mojon_). Cf. _Auto da Festa_, ed. Conde de Sabugosa (1906), p. 110: _Este he da pedra do estremo_. 174 _diadema_ is usually masculine, but Antonio Vieira has it both ways. 176 Seixal (2500-3000 inh.) in the district of Almada. 177 Almada, formerly Almadãa (Arab = the mine, but as Englishmen settled there in the 12th century it was later given the fanciful derivation All made or All made it), a town of 10,000 inh., opposite Lisbon on the left bank of the Tagus. 179 Tojal (= whin-moor, gorse-common), a small village near Olivaes (= olive groves), in the Lisbon district. 195 The impression produced by the arrival in Rome of King Manuel's elephant, panther and other magnificent gifts was vividly described by several writers. Cf. Damião de Goes, _Chron. de D. Manuel_, Pt 3, cap. 55, 56, 57 (1619 ed. f. 223 v.-227). According to Ulrich von Hutten the elephant 'fuit mirabile animal, habens longum rostrum in magna quantitate; et quando vidit Papam tunc geniculavit ei et dixit cum terribili voce _bar, bar, bar_' (apud Theophilo Braga, _Gil Vicente e as Origens do Theatro Nacional_ (1898), p. 191). Cf. also Manuel Bernardez, _Nova Floresta_, V, 93-4. The head of this celebrated elephant forms the background to a portrait of Tristão da Cunha (head of the embassy to the Pope) reproduced in Senhor Joaquim de Vasconcellos' edition of Francisco de Hollanda's _Da Pintura Antigva_ (Porto, 1918). 229 In 1517 among other exotic presents a rhinoceros was sent to the Pope. It was however shipwrecked and drowned on the way. It had the honour of being drawn by Albrecht Dürer. 238 Vicente seems to have coined this intensive of _bellisima_. 243-4 Cesar = King Manuel. Hecuba=his second wife, Queen Maria, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain. 249 Prince João, born in 1502, afterwards King João III (1521-57). 259 The Infanta Isabel (1503-39) married her first cousin the Emperor Charles V, and in her honour on that occasion Vicente composed his _Templo de Apolo_ (1526). Her marriage may have already been planned in 1513, but more probably Vicente altered the passage when he was preparing the 1st edition of his works during the last months of his life. Gil Vicente more than once refers to her great beauty. Her portrait by Titian in the Madrid Prado fully bears out his praises and the expression on her face places this among the most fascinating portraits of women. The Empress is sitting by a window looking on to a beautiful country of woods and blue mountains, in her hand is a book; but one feels that she is thinking of neither book nor scenery but that her thoughts go back in _saudade_ to the soft air and merry days of Lisbon. It might indeed be a picture of _Saudade_. There is a slight flush on her pale oval face. Her almond-shaped eyes are grey-green, her nose delicately aquiline. In the eyes and in the general expression there is a look of undeniable sadness. Her dress of plum, cherry-pink, gold and brown gives a gorgeously mellow effect and the curtain at the back is plum-brown. If the colouring seems at first too rich this is due to the criminal gold frame which clashes with the dress and the chestnut-golden hair. In a dark frame the picture would be twice as beautiful. The Empress' dress gleams with pearls and she has a jewel with pearls--set perhaps by Gil Vicente--in her hair, large pearl earrings and a necklace of large pearls. She died at Toledo at the age of 36 and lies in the grim Pantheon of the Kings in the Escorial crypt. 266 Of Prince Fernando, born in 1507, Damião de Goes, who knew him personally, says: 'assi na mocidade como depois de ser homem foi de bom parecer e bem disposto, muito inclinado a letras e dado ao estudo das historias verdadeiras e imigo das fabulosas... Era colerico e apressado em seus negocios e muito animoso, com mostra e desejo de se achar em algun grande feito de guerra, mas nem o tempo nem o estudo do Regno deram pera isso lugar' (_Chron. de D. Manuel_, II, xix). Cf. Osorio, _De Rebvs Emmanvelis_ (1571), p. 189: 'Fuit in antiquitate pervestiganda valde curiosus: maximarum rerum studio flagrabat multisque virtutibus illo loco dignis praeditus erat.' 275 Princess Beatrice as a matter of fact married Charles, Duke of Savoy, and on the occasion of her departure from Lisbon by sea with a magnificent suite Vicente wrote the _Cortes de Jupiter_ (1521) with the _romance_: Nina era la Ifanta, Dona Beatriz se dezia, Nieta del buen Rei Hernando, el mejor rei de Castilla, Hija del Rei Don Manuel y Reina Doña Maria, etc. 284 Cf. the _Auto das Fadas_ (with which this play has many points of resemblance): _Feiticeira_ (ao principle e infantes): _ó que joias esmaltadas, ó que boninas dos ceos, ó que rosas perfumadas!_ 331-2 Cf. _Divisa da Cidade de Coimbra_: _Vai delas a eles tão grande avantagem... como haverá...do vivo a hũa imagem_. 341 _Godos_, Goths, i.e. of ancient race, 'Norman blood.' 346 For _dioso_ = _idoso_ v. _C. Geral_, vol. II (1910), p. 153. Fernam Lopez, _Chron. J. I._ Pt. 2, cap. 10, has _deoso_. 384 _pequenas quadrilhas_. When Afonso de Albuquerque began his glorious career (1509-15) there were in India but a few hundred Portuguese fighting men, and most of these badly armed. The whole population of Portugal during this time of fighting and discovery in N.-West, West and East Africa and India is by some calculated at a million and a half, by others at between two and three millions. 416 Prov. _mais são as vozes que as nozes_. 418 For this line cf. Pedro Ferrus: _Que por todo el mundo suena_ (ap. Menéndez y Pelayo, _Antología_, t. I, p. 159 and Enzina, _Egloga_, V (_ib._ t. VII, p. 57)). 420 _pois que...pessoa_, a homely version of Goethe's _Was du ererbt von deinen Vätern hast Erwirb' es um es zu besitzen_. 470-4 These lines are translated from the Spanish poet Gomez Manrique (1415?-1490?). See Menéndez y Pelayo, _Antología_, t. VII, p. ccx. Cf. Jorge Ferreira de Vasconcellos, _Ulysippo_, V, 7: _Vos quando vos tirarem de Ansias e passiones mias e guando Roma conquistava_. 487 _dom zote_. Cf. supra _zopete_ and Sp. _zote_, _zopo_, _zopenco_, _zoquete_ (a dolt); low Latin _sottus_; Dutch _zot_; Fr. _sot_; Eng. _sot_ (_bebe sem desfolegar_). _Zote_ occurs twice in the _Auto Pastoril Portugues_: _muito gamenho_ (cf. Fr. _gamin_) _zote_ and _Auto da Fé_, l. 5. 534 _trepas_ is the Span. form (Port, _tripas_?). 538 _soyços_ the old, _soldados_ the new, word for 'soldiers.' Cf. Lucas Fernández, _Farsas_ (1867), p. 89: _Entra el soldado, o soizo, o infante_. 559 This rousing chorus fitly ends a play from every page of which breathes the most ardent patriotism. Small wonder that King Sebastião (1557-78), with his visions of conquest and glory, read Vicente with pleasure as a boy. 561 Cf. Gaspar Correa, _Lendas da India_, IV, 561-2: _o Governador logo sobio e o frade diante dele bradando a grandes brados, dizendo: 'O fieis Christãos, olhai para Christo, vosso capitão, que vai diante'_ (1546). FARSA DOS ALMOCREVES PAGE 37 This is one of the most famous of those lively farces with which Gil Vicente for a quarter of a century delighted the Portuguese Court and which still hold the reader by their vividness and charm. Its fame rests on the portraiture of the poverty-stricken but magnificent nobleman who has been a favourite object of satire with writers in the Peninsula since the time of Martial, and who in a poem of the _Cancioneiro Geral_ is described in almost the identical words of Vicente's prefatory note: o gram estado e a renda casi nada (_Arrenegos que que fez Gregoryo Affonsso_). An alternative title of the play is _Auto do Fidalgo Pobre_, but the extremely natural presentment of the two carriers in the second part justifies the more popular name. The Court, fleeing from plague at Lisbon, was in the celebrated little university town of Coimbra on the Mondego and here Gil Vicente in the following year staged his _Divisa da Cidade de Coimbra_, the _Farsa dos Almocreves_, and (in October) the _Tragicomedia da Serra da Estrella_ and Sá de Miranda, in open rivalry, produced his _Fabula do Mondego_. But Gil Vicente was not to be silenced by the introduction of the new poetry from Italy and to these two years, 1526 and 1527, belong no less than seven (or perhaps eight) of his plays. Yet what a difference in his own position and in the state of the nation since his first farce--_Quem tem farelos?_ twenty years before! The magnificent King Manuel was dead, and his son, the more care-ridden João III, was on the throne: tão ocupado co'este Turco, co'este Papa co'esta França. There was plague and famine in the land. The discovery of a direct route to the East and its apparently inexhaustible wealth had not brought prosperity to the Portuguese provinces. There the chief effect had been to make men discontented with their lot and to lure away even the humblest workers to seek their fortune and often to find death or a far less independent poverty: até os pastores hão de ser d'el-Rei samica. The result was that the old rustic jollity which Vicente had known so well in his youth was dying out, and the very songs of the peasants took a plaintive air: E no mais triste ratinho s'enxergava hũa alegria que agora não tem caminho. Se olhardes as cantigas do prazer acostumado todas tem som lamentado, carregado de fadigas, longe do tempo passado. O d' então era cantar e bailar como ha de ser, o cantar pera folgar, o bailar pera prazer, que agora é mao d'achar[155]. Nor could it be expected that the rich _parvenu_, the mushroom courtier, the _fidalgo 'que não sabe se o é,'_ the palace page fresh from keeping goats in the _serra_, the Court chaplain anxious to hide his humble origin, would greatly relish Vicente's plays which satirized them and in which rustic scenes and songs and memories appeared at every turn. It was much like mentioning the rope in the house of the hanged, and these dainty and sophisticated persons would turn with relief to the revival of the more decorous ancient drama inaugurated by Trissino in Italy and in Portugal by Sá de Miranda. 3 _este Arnado_. Cf. Bernardo de Brito, _Chronica de Cister_, III, 18: 'se foi [Afonso Henriquez] ao longo do Mondego por um campo ̃q então e no tempo de agora se chama o Arnado, trocado ja pelas enchentes do rio de campo cuberto de flores em um areal esteril e sem nenhũa verdura.' Cf. _Cancioneiro da Vaticana_, No. 1014: 'en Coimbra caeu ben provado, caeu en Runa ata en o Arnado.' 7 See the Spanish _romance_ (ap. Menéndez y Pelayo. _Antología_, t. VIII, p. 124): 'Yo me estaba allá en Coimbra que yo me la hube ganado.' 8, 9 The sense of these two obscure lines is apparently: 'Since Coimbra so chastises us that we are left without a penny.' Ruy Moniz in the _Canc. Geral_, vol. II (1910), p. 142, has _çimbrar ou casar_. In Spanish _cimbrar_ = 'to brandish a rod,' 'to bend.' In the _Auto del Repelon_, printed in 1509, Enzina has: _El palo bien assimado Cimbrado naquella tiesta_ (_Teatro_ (1893), p. 236) and Fernández (p. 25) _No vos cimbre yo el cayado_. Cf. Antonio Prestes, _Autos_ (ed. 1871), p. 211: _E o vilão vindo me zimbra: reprender-me!_ and João Gomes de Abreu (_C. Ger._ vol. IV (1915), p. 304) _seraa rrijo çimbrado_. _preto_ = _real preto_, contrasted with the white (i.e. silver) _real_. 12 _Pelos campos de Mondego cavaleiros vi somar_ were two very well-known lines apparently belonging to a real historical Portuguese _romance_ on the death of Ines de Castro. They occur in Garcia de Resende's poem on her death. See C. Michaëlis de Vasconcellos, _Estudos sobre o romanceiro peninsular_. 13 Cf. _Tragicomedia da Serra da Estrella_ (1527): _Pedem-lhe em Coimbra cevada E elle dá-lhe mexilhões_. 19 _milham_, green maize cut young for fodder. 32 _ratinhos_, peasants from Beira. They play a large part in Portuguese comedy. 80 _azemel_ = _almocreve_. Both words are of Arabic origin. Cf. _almofreixe_ infra. 93 _Endoenças_ = _indulgentiae_. _Semana de Endoenças_ = Holy Week. 103 In the _Auto da Lusitania_ Vicente says jestingly, perhaps in imitation of the Spanish _romances_, that he was born at Pederneira (a small sea-side town in the district of Leiria). He mentions it again in the _Cortes de Jupiter_ and in the _Templo de Apolo_. 109 Cf. Alvaro Barreto in _Cancioneiro Geral_, vol. I (1910), p. 322: _põe me tudo em huũ item_. 120 It was the plea of Arias Gonzalo that the inhabitants of Zamora were not answerable for the guilt of Vellido Dolfos who had treacherously killed King Sancho: ¿Qué culpa tienen los viejos? ¿qué culpa tienen los niños? ¿qué culpa tienen los muertos...? 129 _balcarriadas_. Cf. _Auto das Fadas_: _Venhas muitieramá com tuas balcarriadas;_ _Auto da Festa_: _tão grão balcarriada_; _Auto da Barca do Purgatorio_: _Nunca tal balcarriada Nem maré tão desastrada_. Couto, _Asia_, VII, 5, vii: _Tal balcarriada_ (act of folly) _foi esta_. The _Canc. Geral_, vol. IV (1915), p. 370, has the form _barquarryadas_. 134 Cf. _Auto da Lusitania_: _um aito bem acordado Que tenha ave e piós_ (= well-proportioned). 135 The numerous servants of the starving _fidalgos_ are satirized by Nicolaus Clenardus and others. Like the English as described by a German in the 18th century they were 'lovers of show, liking to be followed wherever they go by whole troops of servants' (_A Journey into England_, by Paul Hentzer. Trans. Horace Walpole, 1757). Clenardus in his celebrated letter from Evora (1535) says that a Portuguese is followed by more servants in the streets than he spends sixpences in his house. He mentions specifically the number eight. 141 Alcobaça is the town famous for its beautiful Cistercian convent. 161 _Alifante._ Cf. infra, _avangelho_. _A_ for _e_ is still common in Galicia: e.g. _mamoria_ (memory). Cf. Span. Basque _barri_ (new), for Fr. Basque _berri_. 165 The Dean was Diogo Ortiz de Vilhegas († 1544) successively Bishop of São Tomé (1534) and Ceuta (1540). See A. Braamcamp Freire in _Revista de Historia_, No. 25 (1918), p. 3. 224 _bastiães = _bestiães_, figures in relief. Gomez Manrique has _bestiones_ in this sense. 247 In Antonio Prestes' play _Auto do Mouro Encantado_ the golden apples prove to be pieces of coal. So Mello in his _Apologos Dialogaes_ speaks of the treasure of _moiras encantadas_ which all turns to coal. 269 _In Rey_, the popular form of _El-Rei_ (the king) is frequent also in the plays of Simão Machado, who died about a century after Vicente. 272 It is tempting to add the word _madraço_ (fool, ignoramus) for the sake of the rhyme. If _O recado que elle dá_ were spoken very fast the line would bear the addition. 293 Here, as often, the deeper purpose of Vicente's satire appears beneath his fun. The growing depopulation of the provinces was becoming painfully evident to those who cared for Portugal. 302 Jorge Ferreira, _Ulysippo_, III, 5: _não haveria corpo, por mais que fosse de aço milanes, que podesse sofrer quanta costura lhe seria necessaria_; _ib._ III, 7: _temos muita costura esta noite; muita costura e tarefa_; Antonio Vieira, _Cartas_: _tambem aqui teremos costura_ (1 de agosto de 1673). 310 _trapa_ in Port. = 'a gin,' 'a trap,' but in Sp., as perhaps here, = 'noise,' 'uproar.' 327 Cf. _Farsa dos Fisicos_: _Praticamos ali O Leste e o Oeste e o Brasil_ and III, 377; Chiado, _Auto da Natural Invençam_, ed. Conde de Sabugosa (1917), p. 74. 348 The carrier comes along singing snatches of a _pastorela_ of which we have other examples, of more intricate rhythm, in the _Cancioneiro da Vaticana_ and the poems of the Archpriest of Hita and the Marqués de Santillana. A modern Galician _cantiga_ says that O cantar d'os arrieiros E um cantariño guapo: Ten unha volta n'o medio Para dicir 'Arré macho.' (Pérez Ballesteros, _Cancionero Popular Gallego_, vol II, p. 215.) 355 Cf. _O Clerigo da Beira_: _Nuno Ribeiro Que nunca paga dinheiro E sempre arreganha os dentes_; and _Ah Deos! quem te furtasse Bolsa, Nuna Ribeiro. Homem vai buscar dinheiro, A todo ele disse: Ja dinheiro feito é_. 360 _uxtix_, _uxte_. Ferreira de Vasconcellos, _Eufrosina_, II, 4: _Tanto me deu por uxte como por arre_. _atafal_. Cf. _Barca do Purgatorio_ (I, 258): _amanhade-lhe o atafal_ (not _amanhã dé-lhe_). 363 Candosa, a village of some 1400 inh. in the district of Coimbra. 369 _xulo_ = _chulo_, _pícaro_. The derivation of _chulo_ is uncertain (v. Gonçalvez Viana, _Apostilas_, vol. I (1906), p. 299). While Dozy derives it from Arabic _xul_, A. A. Koster suggests the same origin as that of Fr. _joli_, It. _giulivo_, Catalan _joliu_ [= gay. Cf. Eng. _jolly_ and the Portuguese word used by D. João de Castro: _joliz_], viz. the Old German word _jol_ (gaiety). Vid. _Quelques mots espagnols et portugais d'origine orientale_ (_Zeitschrift für rom. Philologie_, Bd. 38 (1914), S. 481-2). The Valencian form for July (_Choliol_) may strengthen this view. 372 Tareja is the old Portuguese form of Theresa. 375 _bareja_ = _mosca varejeira_. 379 Aveiro. A town of about 7500 inh., 40 miles S. of Oporto. It was nearly taken by the Royalists in 1919. 398 For the naturalness of this conversation cf. that of the peasants Amancio Vaz and Deniz Lourenço in the _Auto da Feira_. 410 Pero Vaz' point is that the mules will not stop to feed in the cool shade of the trees but do so in the shelterless _charneca_. 429 Cf. the act of D. João de Castro (1500-48) as before him of Afonso de Albuquerque in pawning hairs of his beard, and the proverb _Queixadas sem barbas não merecem ser honradas_. 435 _O juiz de çamora_. In the _romance Ya se sale Diego Ordoñez_ Arias Gonzalo of Zamora says: 'A Dios pongo por juez porque es justo su juicio.' So that the judge of Zamora = God. 438-9 No one was better situated than Gil Vicente to criticize--and suffer the slights of--the brand-new nobility of the Portuguese Court. The nearer they were to the plough the more disdainful were they likely to be to a mere goldsmith and poet. 454 _desingulas_ (= _dissimulas_). Cf. _Auto Pastoril Portugues_: _não o dessengules mais_. Duarte Nunes de Leão, _Origem da Lingva Portvgvesa_ (1606), cap. 18, includes _dissingular_ (= dissimular) among the _vocabulos que vsão os plebeios ou idiotas que os homens polidos não deuem vsar_. 467 For the form Diz cf. _Auto das Fadas_: Estevão Dis, and _O Juiz da Beira_: Anna Dias, Diez, Diz (= Diaz). 473 Pero Vaz evidently did not know the _cantiga:_ A molher do almocreve Passa vida regalada Sem se importar se o marido Fica morto na estrada. Cf. the Galician quatrain (Pérez Ballesteros, _Canc. Pop. Gall._ II, 219): A vida d'o carreteiro É unha vida penada, Non vai o domingo á misa Nin dorme n'a sua cama. 478 Vicente refers to the Medina fair in the _Auto da Feira_ and again in _O Juiz da Beira_: _morador en Carrion Y mercader en Medina_. 498 _Folgosas_. There are two small villages in Portugal called Folgosa, but reference here is no doubt to an inn or small group of houses. 506 Vicente several times refers to _Val de Cobelo_, e.g. _Comedia de Rubena_: _E achasse os meus porquinhos Cajuso em Val de Cobelo_, and the shepherd in the _Auto da Barca do Purgatorio_: _estando em Val de Cobelo_. 529-30 Cf. Sá de Miranda, 1885 ed., No. 108, l. 261: _Inda hoje vemos que em França Vivem nisto mais á antiga_, etc. Couto (_Dec._ V, vi, 4) speaking of the mingling of classes, says: 'no nosso Portugal anda isto mui corrupto.' 537 Cf. _Comedia de Rubena_: _E broslados (= bordados) uns letreiros Que dizem Amores Amores._ 559 The ancient town of Viseu or Vizeu (9000 inh.) in Beira has now sunk from its former importance. 560 _pertem_ for _pertence_. 565 _arauia_ = _algaravia_. So _ingresia_, _germania_, etc. (cf. the French word _charabia_). 586 Cf. _O Juiz da Beira_: _pois tem a morte na mão_ (= not 'there is death in that hand' as was said of Keats, but 'he is at death's door'). 591 The original reading _da sertãy_ (rhyming with _mãy_ in l. 588) is confirmed by the _Auto da Lusitania_: _rendeiro na Sertãe_. The town of Certã in the district of Castello Branco now has some 5000 inh. 603 Cf. Jorge Ferreira, _Aulegrafia_, I, 4: _Ó senhor, grão saber vir_. 657 _tam mancias_, i.e. _Macias, o Namorado_, the prince of lovers. For the form _Mancias_ cf. _palanciana_ used for _palaciana_. 671 _los tus cabellos niña_. Cf. Ferreira de Vasconcellos, _Aulegrafia_, f. 113: _Sob los teus cabelos, ninha, dormiria_. 675 Cf. Jorge Ferreira, _Eufrosina_. _Prologo_: _Eu por mim digo com a cantiga se o dizem digão_, etc.; _Cortes de Jupiter_: _Cantará c'os atabaques: Se disserão digão, alma minha_ and Barbieri, _Cancionero Musical_, No. 127: _Si lo dicen digan, Alma mia_, etc. E wrongly gives the words _alma minha_ to the next quotation. 676 Cf. _Auto da India_: _Quem vos anojou, meu bem, Bem anojado me tem_. 707 Cf. _Auto das Fadas_: _Son los suspiros que damos In hac vita lachrymarum_. 713 Camões, _Filodemo_, IV, 4, has _tudo terei numa palha_, 'I will not care a straw' (cf. Vicente in the _Auto da Festa_: _Que os homens verdadeiros não são tidos numa palha_), but here the meaning is different. TRAGICOMEDIA PASTORIL DA SERRA DA ESTRELLA PAGE 55 It is remarkable that just at the time when Sá de Miranda had returned to Portugal with the new metres from Italy and was frankly contemptuous of Gil Vicente's rough mirth and rustic verse, Gil Vicente felt his position strong enough to present this lengthy play before the King and Court at Coimbra on occasion of the birth of the King's daughter Maria. There is no action in the play, and King Manuel would perhaps have yawned at these shepherds' quarrels, relieved not at all by the _parvo's_ wit or the hermit's grossness and only occasionally by a touch of lyric poetry; but perhaps these simple scenes were welcome to the growing artificiality of the Court. For us the beautiful _cossante Um amigo que eu havia_ stands out like a single orange gleaming from a dark-foliaged tree. The interest lies in the customs of the shepherds and their snatches of song and in the intimate knowledge of the Serra da Estrella shown by the author. 10 The Serra da Estrella, the highest mountain-range in Portugal (6500 ft), is in the province of Beira. 17 _meyrinhas_ = _maiorinho_ (merino). 30 _esperauel_ (as here and in _Comedia de Rubena_), or _esparavel_. Cf. Damião de Goes, _Chron. de D. Manuel_ (1617), f. 25 v.: a _modo de sobreceo d'esparavel_. 32 Cf. the _vilão's_ complaints of God in the _Romagem de Aggravados_. 35 _nega_ = _senão_. 51 As in Browning's _A Grammarian's Funeral_ they are advancing as they converse: 'thither our path lies.' 103 _Nega se meu embeleco_ = _se não me engano_. This line occurs in the _Templo de Apolo_. The _Auto da Festa_ text has _nego se meu embaleco_. 113 _mancebelhões_. Cf. Correa, _Lendas_, IV, 426: _Folgara de ser mais mancebelhão_. 127 The corresponding _a_-lines might be: Dous açores que eu amava Aqui andam nesta casa. 172 _argem_ for _prata_. Similarly in Spanish there is the old form _argen_ for _argento_ (= _plata_). Cf. the proverb _Quien tiene argen tiene todo bien_. 190 _somana_ for _semana_. So _romendo_ for _remendo_ and v. infra: _perem_ for _porem_. 225 _gingrar_. Nuno Pereira in the _Cancioneiro Geral_ (1910 ed., vol. I, p. 305) has _o gingrar de meu caseiro_. Cf. Enzina, _Auto del Repelon_: _Hora déjalos gingrar_ (_Teatro_, 1893, p. 241). 241 _sois_. Cf. _Barca do Purgatorio_: _sem sois motrete de pão_; _Farsa dos Fisicos_: _não vos quer sois olhar_. 290-1 = _odi et amo_. 322 As a rule Vicente's shepherds are natural enough but we may be permitted to doubt whether any shepherdess of the Serra da Estrella would have spoken of 'ending like Queen Dido.' She had probably been reading Lucas Fernández, _Farsas_ (1867), p. 56. 328 A, B, C, D and E unaccountably print _querê-lo_ (through the bad attraction of _malo_) although _querer_ is needed to rhyme with _quer_. 367 _pintisirgo_ = _pintasilgo_. 410 _grauisca_. Vicente appears to have coined the word from _grave_ and _arisca_. 427 Fronteira, a village of nearly 3000 inh. in the district of Portalegre. Monsarraz is of about the same size, in the district of Evora. 435 _tinhosa cada mea hora_. Cf. Jorge Ferreira de Vasconcellos, _Aulegrafia_, f. 89: _he hũa tinhosa que ontem guardava patas em Barquerena_. 440 _cartaxo_. Cf. _Aulegrafia_, f. 10: _figo bafureiro em unhas de cartaixo_. 443 A pleasant sketch of the presumptuous peasant, then become a common type in Portugal. Felipa considers that to marry a shepherd would be beneath her and her heart leaps up when she beholds a courtier in velvet slippers. 462 The hermit was of course a part of the stock-in-trade of mediaeval plays. He appears in Vicente as early as 1503 (_Auto dos Reis Magos_). The most interesting alteration in the heavily censored (1586) edition of the _Serra da Estrella_ is not the excision of over a hundred lines about the evil-minded hermit but the substitution in l. 100 of _un rey_ for _Dios_. Regalist Vicente would never have allowed himself to say that 'a king sometimes acts awry.' 530 For _amigo_ we should probably read _marido_ to rhyme with _atrevido_. 564 _moxama_ = salted tuna (Sp. _mojama_ or _almojama_). 566 Cf. J. Ferreira de Vasconcellos, _Aulegrafia_ (1619), f. 84: _sejais bem casada com a filha do juiz_. 608 Sea, Cea or Ceia, a pleasant little town of some 3000 inh. in the heart of the Serra. (Sea, Sintra, etc. is the 16th cent, spelling, now restored.) 616 Gouvea or Gouveia in the same district and about the same size as Sea. The three other Gouveas in Portugal are smaller villages. 621 Manteigas, a small picturesque town immediately below the highest part of the Serra and nearly 2500 ft above sea-level. 623 Covilham, a larger town (15000 inh.), still known for its cloth factories. 652 Sardoal has about 5000 inh. For its ancient reputation for dancing cf. _O Juiz da Beira_: Eu bailei em Santarem, Sendo os Iffantes pequenos, E bailei no Sardoal. 666 This _cossante_ needs for its completion a fourth verse. This was so obvious that it was omitted in the writing of the play. 684 _Esse he outro carrascal_, a rural form of the phrase _une autre paire de manches_. The contrast is between the rustic _cossante_ and the more 'cultivated' or Court _cantigas_ that follow (_Ja não quer_ and _Não me firais_). 711 The _chacota, chacotasinha_ was a peasant's dance accompanied by a simple song the structure of which answered to the movements of the dance. Here, however, it is danced to the sound of the organ and the words of a Court song in which, nevertheless, the repetition of the rustic _dance-cossantes_ is preserved. 724 Cf. _Farsa de Ines Pereira_: _Eu vos trago um bom marido...diz que em camisa vos quer_ (= 'sans dot'). FOOTNOTES: [155] _Triunfo do Inverno_ (1529), l. 13-25. LIST OF PROVERBS IN GIL VICENTE'S WORKS A amiga e o amigo mais aquenta que bom lenho III, 127 A candea morta gaita á porta II, 215 Ado corre [el río] más manso allí está más peligroso II, 169 Amor louco, eu por ti e tu por outro I, 139 Ante a Pascoa vem os Ramos III, 124 A ruim comprador llevar-lhe ruim borcado I, 160 Asegundo sam os tempos assi hão de ser os tentos I, 103 Asegun fuere el señor ansi abrirá camino a ser servido II, 86 Asno muerto cevada I, 279 10 Asno que me leve quero e nam cavalo folão III, 154 Ausencia aparta amor II, 276 Bem passa de guloso o que come o que não tem III, 370 Cada louco com sua teima III, 135 Caza mata el porfiar III, 302 Come e folga terás boa vida I, 343 Dá-me tu a mi dinheiro e dá ao demo o conselho I, 167 Del mal lo menos I, 231 Donde vindes? D'Almolina. Que trazedes? Farinha. Tornae lá, que nam é minha III, 107 Dormirei, dormirei, boas novas acharei II, 26 20 El amor verdadero, el más firme es el primero II, 275 El diabo no es tan feo como Apeles lo pintaba II, 267 El que pergunta no yerra I, 69 É melhor que vamos sos que nam mal acompanhadas II, 525 Em tempo de figos nam ha hi nenhuns amigos III, 370 Fala com Deus, serás bom rendeiro I, 344 Filho nam comas nam rebentarás I, 343 França e Roma nam se fez num dia I, 335 Frol de pessegueiro, fermosa e nam presta nada II, 40 Grão a grão gallo farta III, 249 30 Maior é o ano que o mes III, 124 Mais quero asno que me leve que cavalo que me derrube III, 121 Mata o cavalo de sela e bo é o asno que me leva III, 130 Nam achegues á forca nam te enforcarão I, 343 Nam comas quente nam perderás o dente I, 343 Nam peques na lei nam temerás rei I, 344 Nam sejas pobre morrerás honrado I, 344 Nam se tomam trutas a bragas enxutas III, 177 No se cogen las flores sino espina sofriendo III, 322 Nos ninhos d'ora a um ano nam ha passaro ogano III, 370 40 O dar quebra os penedos I, 237 Onde força ha perdemos direito I, 310 O que ha de ser ha de ser II, 16; III, 144, 295 O que nam haveis de comer leixae-o a outrem mexer III, 137 Pared cayada papel de locos III, 336 Perdida é a decoada na cabeça d'asno pegada III, 166 Pobreza e alegria nunca dormem n'hũa cama II, 518 Por bem querer mal haver I, 135 Porfia mata caza II, 301 Poupa em queimada bem pintada e mal lograda II, 40 50 Pusóse el perro em bragas de acero III, 334 Quando perderes põe-te de lodo I, 344 Quando te dam o porquinho vae logo c'o baracinho II, 466 Quem bem renega bem cre I, 271 Quem bem tem e mal escolhe por mal que lhe vem nam se enoje III, 150 Quem casa por amores nam vos é nega dolores I, 128 Quem chora ou canta más fadas espanta I, 343 Quem com mal anda chore e nam cante I, 343 Quem com mal anda nam cuide ninguem que lhe venha bem I, 343 Quem espera padece III, 382 60 Quem muito pede muito fede III, 372 Quem nam faz mal nam merece pena I, 343 Quem nam mente nam vem de boa gente I, 343 Quem nam parece esquece III, 382 Quem nam pede nam tem III, 382 Quem porcos acha menos em cada mouta lhe roncam (cf. III, 26) III, 279 Quem quer fogo busque a lenha III, 371 Quem quiser comer comigo traga em que se assentar III, 371 Quem sempre faz mal poucas vezes faz bem I, 344 Quem so se aconselha so se depena I, 343 70 Quereis conhecer o ruim dae-lhe o oficio a servir II, 390 Quien al cordojo se dió más cordojo se lhe pega I, 12 Quien canta no tiene tormento II, 453 Quien no anda no gana II, 117 Quien no se aventura no espere por ventura II, 116 Quien paga los trabajos dé el afan II, 85 Se nada ganhares nam sejas siseiro I, 344 Se sempre calares nunca mentirás I, 343 Se tu te guardares eu te guardarei I, 344 Sob mao pano está o bom bebedor I, 162 80 Sol de Janeiro sempre anda traz do outeiro II, 40 Todo o mal é de quem o tem I, 337 Todos los caminos a la puente van a dar III, 198 Una cosa piensa el bayo y otra quien lo ensilla III, 369 Viguela sin lanza, etc. III, 295 Vilão forte, pé dormente III, 12 BIBLIOGRAPHY OF GIL VICENTE[156] (1) _Catalogo dos Autores_ ap. _Diccionario da Lingua Portugueza_ (1793), p. cxxviii-ix. 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V (1885), p. 369-74, 649-56; vol. VI, p. 120-30, 155-62. (34) A. LOISEAU. _Hist. de la Litt. Port._ (1886), p. 119-36. (35) A. DA CUNHA. _Os Autos de G. V._ in _Revista Intellectual Contemporanea_, anno 1, No. 3 (1886), p. 21-24. (36) GALLARDO. _Ensayo_, tom. IV (1889), col. 1565-8. (37) A. JEANROY. _Les Origines de la poésie lyrique en France_ (1889), p. 330-4. (38) J. DE SOUSA MONTEIRO. _A Dansa Macabra (Nota preliminar a tres autos de G. V.)_ in _Revista de Portugal_, vol. I (1889), p. 233-50. (39) VISCONDE DE OUGUELLA. _G. V._ Lisboa, 1890. (40) A. SCHAEFFER. _Geschichte des Spanischen Nationaldramas_ (1890), vol. I, p. 26-33. (41) D. GARCIA PERES. _Catálogo Razonado_ (1890), p. 564-8. (42) J. LEITE DE VASCONCELLOS. _Nota sobre a linguagem de G. V._ in _Revista Lusitana_ (1891), p. 340-2. (43) W. STORCK. _Aus Portugal und Brasilien_ (1892). Notes, p. 258-62. (44) C. MICHAËLIS DE VASCONCELLOS. _Grundriss der rom. Phil._ (1894), Bd. 2, Abtg. 2, p. 280-7. (45) VISCONDE SANCHES DE BAENA. _G. V._ Marinha Grande, 1894 [Review by C. Michaëlis de Vasconcellos in _Litteraturblatt für germanische und romanische Philologie_, Bd. XVII (1896), p. 87-97]. (46) VISCONDE JULIO DE CASTILHO. _Mocidade de G. V. (O Poeta)._ Lisboa, 1896. (47) D. JOÃO DA CAMARA. _Natal e G. V._ in _O Occidente_, vol. XIX (1896), p. 282-5. (48) J. I. BRITO REBELLO. _G. V._ in _Revista de Educação e Ensino_, anno 12 (1897), p. 241-58, 308-15, 394-406. (49) E. PRESTAGE. _The Portuguese Drama in the Sixteenth Century: G. V._ in _The Manchester Quarterly_, vol. XVI (July 1897). (50) M. MENÉNDEZ Y PELAYO in _Antología de poetas líricos_, tom. VII (1898), p. clxiii-ccxxv. (51) TH. BRAGA. _G. V. e as origens do theatro nacional._ Porto, 1898. (52) TH. BRAGA. _Eschola de G. V._ Porto, 1898. (53) VISCONDE J. DE CASTILHO and A. BRAAMCAMP FREIRE, _Indices do Cancioneiro de Resende e das Obras de G. V._ Lisboa, 1900. Repr. in G. V. _Obras_, vol. III (1914). (54) J. DA ANNUNCIAÇÃO [† 1847]. _G. V._ in _Revista Lusitana_, vol. VI (1900), p. 59-63. (55) G. A. DE VASCONCELLOS ABREU. _Contos, Apologos e Fabulas da India: influencia indirecta no Auto de Mofina Mendez de G. V._ Lisboa, 1902. (56) A. R. GONÇALVEZ VIANA. _Lusismos no castellano de G. V._ in _Revista do Conservatorio Real de Lisboa_ (1902). Repr. in _Palestras Filolójicas_ (1910), p. 243-67. (57) J. I. BRITO REBELLO. _G. V._ in _O Occidente_, vol. XXV (1902), p. 122-3. (58) DAMASCENO NUNES. _G. V. e o theatro nacional_ in _O Occidente_, vol. XXV, p. 127-8. (59) TH. BRAGA. _G. V. e o nacionalismo_ in _Revista de Guimarães_, vol. XIX (1902), p. 53-5. (60) C. MALHEIRO DIAS. _G. V. Algumas determinantes do seu genio litterario_ in _Revista de Guimarães_, vol. XIX, p. 57-66. (61) A. F. BARATA. _G. V. e Evora._ Evora, 1902. (62) J. LEITE DE VASCONCELLOS. _G. V. e a linguagem popular._ Lisboa, 1902. (63) G. DE ABREU. _G. V. A independencia do seu espiritu_ in _Revista de Guimarães_, vol. XIX, p. 84-96. (64) _G. V. e a fundação do theatro portuguez_ [three articles in _O Diario de Noticias_, June 7, 8, 9, 1902]. (65) A. HERMANO. _G. V._ in _Revista de Guimarães_, vol. XIX, p. 71-83. (66) J. I. BRITO REBELLO. _Ementas Historicas. II. G. V._ Lisboa, 1902. (67) W. E. A. AXON. _G. V. and Lafontaine._ London and Dorking, 1903. (68) F. M. DE SOUSA VITERBO. _G. V. Dois traços para a sua biographia_ in _Archivo Historico Portuguez_, anno 1 (1903), p. 219-28. (69) J. RIBEIRO. _G. V._ in _Paginas de Esthetica_ (1905), p. 77-83. (70) CONDE DE SABUGOSA. _Auto da Festa_ (_Explicação previa_, p. 7-94). Lisboa, 1906. (71) CONDE DE SABUGOSA. _Um auto de G. V. Processo de Vasco Abul_ in _Embrechados_ (1907), p. 65-80. (72) A. L. STIEFEL. _Zu G. V._ in _Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen_, vol. CXIX (1907), p. 192-5. (73) SILEX [i.e. A. Braamcamp Freire]. _G. V., Poeta-ourives_ in _O Jornal do Commercio_, Feb. 5-9, 14, 19, 1907. (74) J. MENDES DOS REMEDIOS in _Obras de G. V._, vol. I (1907), _Prefacio_, p. v-lix. (75) C. MICHAËLIS DE VASCONCELLOS. _Estudos sobre o romanceiro peninsular_ (1907-9), p. 318-20. (76) J. J. NUNES. _As cantigas parallelisticas de G. V._ in _Revista Lusitana_, vol. XII (1909), p. 241-67. (77) M. A. VAZ DE CARVALHO in _No meu cantinho_ (1909). (78) J. DE SOUSA MONTEIRO. _Estudo sobre o 'Auto Pastoril Castelhano' de G. V._ in _Boletim da Segunda Classe da Ac. das Sciencias de Lisboa_, vol. II (1910), p. 235-41. (79) J. LEITE DE VASCONCELLOS in _Lições de Philologia Portuguesa_ (1911), p. 355-60. (80) O. DE PRATT. _O Auto da Festa de G. V._ in _Revista Lusitana_ (1911), p. 238-46. (81) _Sobre um verso de G. V._ in _Diario de Noticias_ (1912); Repr. in _Revista Lusitana_ (1912), p. 268-89. (82) A. BRAAMCAMP FREIRE. _G. V._ in _Diario de Noticias_, Dec. 16, 1912. (83) J. I. BRITO REBELLO. _G. V._ Lisboa, 1912. (84) C. MICHAËLIS DE VASCONCELLOS. _Notas Vicentinas I_ in _Revista da Universidade de Coimbra_, vol. I (1912), p. 205-93. (85) J. M. DE QUEIROZ VELLOSO. _G. V. e a sua obra._ Lisboa, 1914. (86) A. LOPES VIEIRA. _A Campanha Vicentina._ Lisboa, 1914. (87) F. DE ALMEIDA. _A Reforma protestante e as irreverencias de G. V._ in _Lusitana_, anno 1 (1914), p. 207-13; Repr. in _Historia da Igreja em Portugal_, vol. III, pt 2 (1917), p. 119-226. (88) A. BRAAMCAMP FREIRE. _G. V. poeta-ourives. (Novas notas.)_ Coimbra, 1914. (89) TH. BRAGA. _G. V. e a creação do theatro nacional_ in _Hist. da Litt. Port. II. Renascença_ (1914), p. 36-102. (90) C. MICHAËLIS DE VASCONCELLOS. _Notas sobre a canção perdida Este es calbi orabi_ in _Revista Lusitana_ (1915), p. 1-15. (91) J. CEJADOR Y FRAUCA. _Hist. de la lengua y lit. castellana_ (1915), vol. I, p. 457-60. (92) F. DE FIGUEIREDO. _Caracteristicas da litt. portuguesa_ (1915), p. 27-30. Eng. tr. (1916), p. 18-22. (93) O. DE PRATT. _Sobre um verso de G. V._ Lisboa, 1915. (94) A. LOPES VIEIRA. _Autos de G. V._ (1916), _Prefacio_, p. 9-30. (95) J. I. BRITO REBELLO. _A proposito de G. V._ in _Boletim da Segunda Classe da Ac. das Sciencias de Lisboa_, vol. X (1916), p. 315-8. (96) W. S. HENDRIX. _The 'Auto da Barca do Inferno of G. V.' and the Spanish 'Tragicomedia Alegórica del Parayso y del Infierno'_ in _Modern Philology_, vol. XIII (1916), p. 173-84. (97) A. BRAAMCAMP FREIRE. _G. V., trovador, mestre da balança_ in _Revista de Historia_, Nos. 21, 22, 24, 25, 26 (1917-8). (98) A. COELHO DE MAGALHÃES. _Tentativas pedagógicas. II. A obra vicentina no ensino secundario_ in _A Águia_, Nos. 67-8 (1917), p. 5-16. (99) A. A. MARQUES. _G. V. e as suas obras._ Portalegre, 1917. (100) F. DE FIGUEIREDO. _Hist. da Litt. Classica_ (1917), p. 61-108. (101) C. MICHAËLIS DE VASCONCELLOS. _Notas Vicentinas II_ in _Rev. da Univ. de Coimbra_, vol. VI (1918), p. 263-303. (102) C. MICHAËLIS DE VASCONCELLOS. _Notas Vicentinas III_, _ib._ vol. VII (1919), p. 35-51. FOOTNOTES: [156] For a more detailed account of some of the works here recorded see C. Michaëlis de Vasconcellos, _Notas Vicentinas I_ (1912). CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF GIL VICENTE'S LIFE G.V.'s Life Order of G.V.'s Plays Contemporary Events c.1465? Birth of G.V. c.1465 Death of François Villon. 1466 Death of Donatello. 1467 Birth of Desiderius Erasmus. 1469 Death of Jorge Manrique. -- Birth of Niccolò Machiavelli. 1469? Birth of Juan del Enzina. 1470 Birth of Pietro Bembo. -- Birth of Garcia de Resende. 1471 Birth of Albrecht Dürer. 1474 Birth of Lodovico Ariosto. 1475 Birth of Michael Angelo. 1477 Birth of Titian. 1478 Birth of Baldassare Castiglione († 1526). -- Birth of Gian Giorgio Trissino. -- Birth of Sir Thomas More. 1481 Accession of João II. 1482 Birth of Bernardim Ribeiro. 1483 Birth of Raffael. -- Birth of Martin Luther. -- Birth of Francesco Guicciardini. -- Beheadal of Duke of Braganza. [1484-6 Snr Braamcamp Freire assigns G.V.'s first marriage to one of these years] 1484 King João II stabs to death the Duke of Viseu. 1485 [or later] Birth of Sá de Miranda. [1486-8 Acc. to Snr Braamcamp Freire, birth of G. V.'s eldest son] 1486 Birth of Andrea del Sarto. -- Death of Andrea Verrocchio. 1487 Cape of Good Hope rounded by Bartholomeu Dias. 1489 Birth of Thomas Cranmer. 1490? G.V. comes to Court at Evora? c.1490? G.V.'s first marriage [to Branca Bezerra]? 1490 Marriage of Prince Afonso and Isabel, d. of the Catholic Kings. -- Birth of Vittoria Colonna. 1491 Death of Prince Afonso at Santarem. -- Birth of S. Ignacio de Loyola. -- Christopher Columbus sails for America. -- First Portuguese book printed in Portugal. c.1492? Birth of G.V.'s eldest son, Gaspar? 1492 Conquest of Granada. 1493 Columbus arrives at Lisbon (6 March) after discovering America. -- Birth of André de Resende. 1493 or 4 Birth of Nicolaus Clenardus. 1494 Death of Angelo Poliziano. 1494 or 5 Birth of François Rabelais. 1495 (25 Oct.) Accession of King Manuel. 1496? Birth of Clément Marot († 1544). 1497 (July) Vasco da Gama leaves Lisbon. -- Forced conversion of Jews in Portugal. -- Birth of Hans Holbein. -- Birth of Philip Melancthon. 1498 Girolamo Savonarola burnt at Florence. 1499 (Sept.) Return of Gama from India. 1500 Pedro Alvarez Cabral discovers Brazil. -- Death of Sandro Botticelli. -- Birth of Benvenuto Cellini. -- Birth of Emperor Charles V. -- Birth of Dom João de Castro. 1502 (6 June) Birth of João III. 1502 (Lisbon, 7 or 8 June) _Auto da Visitaçam_(1). -- (Lisbon, Christmas) _Auto Pastoril Castelhano_(2). 1503-6 G.V. fashions the celebrated Belem monstrance with the first tribute of gold from India. 1503 (Lisbon, 6 Jan.) _Auto dos Reis Magos_ (3). 1503 Birth of Garci Lasso de la Vega. -- Birth of Sir Thomas Wyatt. -- Famine and plague in Portugal. -- The cousins Albuquerque and Duarte Pacheco Pereira sail for India. -- (24 Oct.) Birth of Infanta (afterwards Empress) Isabel. 1504 (Lisbon) _Auto de S. Martinho_ (4). 1504 Heroic campaign of D. Pacheco Pereira in India. -- (31 Dec.) Birth of Inf. Beatriz. 1505? Birth of G.V.'s second son, Belchior. 1505 Riots against Jews at Evora. 1505 (end July) Arrival at Lisbon of 15 ships laden with spices. Solemn procession in honor of D. Pacheco. 1506 G.V. preaches a sermon in verse on the birth of Prince Luis (3 March). 1506 (Low Sunday, _Pascoela_) Massacre of Jews at Lisbon. -- Birth of S. Francis Xavier. -- Birth of Inf. Luis († 1555). -- (30 Sept.) Death of D. Beatriz (King Manuel's mother). 1507 (5 June) Birth of Inf. Fernando. 1508 The King raises interdict placed on Lisbon after massacre of Jews. 1508 (Dec.) or 1509 (Jan.) (Lisbon) _Quem tem farelos?_ (5). -- News brought to the King at Evora of the siege of Arzila. 1509? G.V. writes some verses for a poetical contest at Almada, printed in the _Canc. de Resende_ (1516). 1509 (Jan.) D. Pacheco defeats the French pirate Mondragon. 1509 (15 Feb.) G.V. is appointed _Vedor_ (overseer) of all works in gold and silver in the Convent of Thomar, the Hospital of All Saints, Lisbon, and the Convent of Belem. 1509 (Almada, Holy Week?) _Auto da India_ (6). -- (23 Ap.) Birth of Inf. Afonso. 1509 Birth of Jean Calvin. -- Afonso de Albuquerque Governor of India. 1510 Death of Dom Francisco de Almeida, first Viceroy of India. -- Albuquerque attacks Calicut and takes Goa. 1510? Birth of Lope de Rueda. 1510 (Almeirim, Christmas) _Auto da Fé_ (7). 1511 Albuquerque takes Malaca. 1511 (Lisbon, Carnival?) _Auto das Fadas_ (8). -- Henry VIII of England sends King Manuel, his brother-in-law, the Order of the Garter. 1512 (31 Jan.) Birth of Cardinal-King Henrique († 1580). 1512 (Lisbon, early in the year) _Farsa dos Fisicos_ (9). 1512 (21 Dec.) G.V. is elected one of the Twenty-four by the Lisbon Guild of Goldsmiths. 1513 James, Duke of Braganza, sets sail from Lisbon with a splendidly-equipped fleet of 450 vessels to capture Azamor. -- Albuquerque in the Red Sea and at Aden. 1513 (4 Feb.) G.V. is appointed _Mestre da Balança_. 1513 (Lisbon, Holy Week?) _O Velho da Horta_ (10). -- (Lisbon, August) _Exhortação da Guerra_ (11). -- (17 Oct.) G.V. is elected by the Twenty-four to be one of their four representatives on the Lisbon Town Council. 1513? (Lisbon, Christmas) _Auto da Sibila Cassandra_ (12). -- Leo X, son of Lorenzo de' Medici, becomes Pope. 1514 (1512-14?) G.V. loses his first wife, Branca Bezerra. 1514 (Lisbon) _Comedia do Viuvo_ (13). 1514 Portuguese Embassy to Pope Leo X with magnificent presents from the East. Garcia de Resende and the rest of the Mission reach Italy end of Jan. 1514. 1515 (7 Sept.) Birth of Inf. Duarte. -- (21 Sept.) G.V. receives a grant of 20 milreis for the dowry of his sister Felipa Borges. 1515? (Lisbon, 2nd half of year) _Auto da Fama_ (14). [Snr Braamcamp Freire assigns the _Auto da Festa_ to this year 1515.] -- (Dec.) Death of Albuquerque in India. -- Birth of Santa Teresa at Avila. 1516 (9 Sept.) Birth of Inf. Antonio. 1516? (Lisbon, Christmas) _Auto dos Quatro Tempos_ (15). -- Discovery of Mexico. -- Garcia de Resende's _Cancioneiro Geral_ published. -- Death of Giovanni Bellini. 1517 Luther starts the Reformation. -- (Feb.) King Manuel organises a fight between a rhinoceros and an elephant in an enclosed space in front of Lisbon's _Casa da Contrataçam da India_. -- (7 March) Death of Queen Maria. 1517 (Lisbon) _Auto da Barca do Inferno_ (16). 1517 (6 Aug.) G.V. resigns the post of _Mestre da Balança_ in favour of Diogo Rodriguez. 1517? G.V. marries Melicia Rodriguez. 1518? (Lisbon, Holy Week) _Auto da Alma_ (17). 1517 or 18 Birth of Francisco de Hollanda. 1518 (23 Nov.) Queen Lianor (King Manuel's third wife) arrives in Portugal. 1518 (Lisbon, Christmas) _Auto da Barca do Purgatorio_ (18). [General Brito Rebello, Dr Theophilo Braga and Senhor Braamcamp Freire assign the verses to the Conde de Vimioso to this year 1518.] -- Birth of Tintoretto. c.1519? Birth of G.V.'s eldest daughter, Paula. 1519 (Lisbon, Holy Week) _Auto da Barca da Gloria_ (19). 1519 King Charles of Spain elected Emperor (Charles V). -- Death of Leonardo da Vinci. -- Death of John Colet. 1520 G.V. makes arrangements for the royal entry into Lisbon. 1520? Birth of G.V.'s son Luis. -- (18 Feb.) Birth of Inf. Carlos at Evora († Lisbon, 15 Ap. 1521). -- Death of Raffael. -- Death of John Skelton. -- Fernão de Magalhães discovers the 'Straits of Magellan.' 1521 (Jan.) King and Queen's entry into Lisbon. -- (Lisbon, Holy Week?) _Comedia de Rubena_ (20). -- (Lisbon, 4 Aug.) _Cortes de Jupiter_ (21). -- (8 June) Birth of Inf. Maria († 1577). -- Solemn reception in Lisbon of Embassy from Venice. -- Departure of Inf. Beatriz to wed the Duke of Savoy. -- (13 Dec.) Death of King Manuel. -- (Dec.) Proclamation of João III. -- Death of Magalhães. 1522 _Pranto de Maria Parda._ -- Famine in Portugal. 1523 G.V. receives the sum of six milreis. -- Clement VII becomes Pope. -- (Thomar, July-Sept.) _Farsa de Ines Pereira_ (22). -- (Evora, Christmas) _Auto Pastoril Portugues_ (23). 1524 G.V. receives two pensions (12 and 8 milreis). -- (Evora, 2nd half of year) _Fragoa de Amor_ (24) -- Birth of Pierre Ronsard. -- Birth of Luis de Camões. -- Death of Dom Vasco da Gama. 1525 G.V. receives a pension of three bushels of wheat. 1525? (Evora, Holy Week) _Farsa das Ciganas_ (25). -- (Lisbon?) _Dom Duardos_ (26). -- (Almeirim, Oct.-Nov.?) _O Juiz da Beira_ (27). -- (Evora, Christmas) _Auto da Festa_ (28). -- _Trovas ao Conde de Vimioso._ -- Plague and famine at Lisbon. -- François I taken prisoner at battle of Pavia. -- (17 Nov.) Death of Queen Lianor (widow of João II). -- Birth of Joachim du Bellay. 1526 (Lisbon, Jan.) _Templo de Apolo_ (29). 1526-8 (Almeirim) _Sumario da Historia de Deos_ (30). -- (Almeirim) _Dialogo sobre a Ressurreiçam_ (31). 1526 Marriage of Emperor Charles V and Isabel, d. of King Manuel. -- Sá de Miranda returns from Italy. -- Boscán tackles the hendecasyllable. 1527 (Lisbon) _Nao de Amores_ (32). -- (Coimbra) _Divisa da Cidade de Coimbra_ (33). -- (Coimbra) _Farsa dos Almocreves_ (34). -- (Coimbra) _Tragicomedia da Serra da Estrella_ (35). -- Birth of Inf. Maria. -- Birth of Fray Luis de León. -- Birth of Philip II of Spain. -- Sack of Rome. -- Death of Machiavelli. -- _Trovas a Dom João III._ 1528 G.V. receives a further pension of 12 milreis. 1528 (Lisbon, Christmas) _Auto da Feira_ (36). 1528 Death of Dürer. -- Birth of Antonio Ferreira. 1529 Birth of Inf. Isabel. 1529? Death of Juan del Enzina. 1529 (Lisbon, April) _Triunfo do Inverno_ (37). 1529-30 (Lisbon, Christmas? Between Sept. 1529 and Feb. 19, 1530) _O Clerigo da Beira_ (38). c.1530? Birth of G.V.'s daughter Valeria Borges. 1530 (15 Feb.) Birth of Inf. Beatriz. 1531 (Jan.) G.V. preaches a sermon to the monks at Santarem on occasion of the earthquake. c.1530 _Trovas a Felipe Guilhen._ 1531 _Jubileu de Amores_ acted at Brussels. -- Birth of Inf. Manuel. -- (Jan.) Great earthquake at Lisbon and other towns. -- First Bull for establishment of Inquisition in Portugal. 1531? Death of Bartolomé de Torres Naharro. 1532 (Lisbon) _Auto da Lusitania_ (39). 1533 (Evora) _Romagem de Aggravados_ (40). -- (Evora) _Amadis de Gaula_ (41). -- Birth of Michel de Montaigne. -- Clenardus comes to Portugal from Salamanca. 1533? Death of Duarte Pacheco. 1534 (Oudivellas) _Auto da Cananea_ (42). -- (Evora, Christmas) _Auto da Mofina Mendes_ (43). -- Birth of Fernando de Herrera, _el Divino_. 1535 G.V. receives 8 milreis as dress allowance (_vestiaria_). -- [The Conde de Sabugosa assigns the _Auto da Festa_ to this year.] -- Sir Thomas More executed. 1536 (Evora) _Floresta de Enganos_ (44). 1536 Death of Erasmus. -- Death of Garci Lasso de la Vega. -- Death of Garcia de Resende. -- Introduction of Inquisition into Portugal. 1536? Death of G.V. at Evora. INDEX OF PERSONS AND PLACES _Abrantes_, 48 Abul (Vasco), xviii _Aden_, xxi Afonso V, x Afonso Prince, xii, xiii Afonso (Gregorio), xxxviii _Africa_, x, xix, xxii, 34, 75 Alarcón (Pedro Antonio de), l Albuquerque (Afonso de), xix, xxi, xxxv, 77 _Alcobaça_, 39, 40 Aleandro, Cardinal, xxvii, xxx Alfonso X, xl _Almada_, xix, 27, 76 Almeida (Dom Francisco de), xxxv Almeida Garrett, Visconde, xlii, li _Almeirim_, xix, xxii, xxvi, xli Alvarez (Francisco), xxix _Amadis de Gaula_, xxx, xlv Anriquez (Luis), xiii _Apolonio, Libro de_, xlvii Aristotle, xxxvi, xliii, xlvi _Arruda_, 27, 76 _Arzila_, xix Astorga, Marqués de, xxxi _Aulegrafia_, xxxix _Aveiro_, 46, 81 _Azamor_, xx, xxi, 23, 75 _Barcellos_, x Barros (João de), xviii Beatriz, Dona, xiv, xv Beatriz, Duchess of Savoy, xxiii, 29, 77 _Beira_, xi, xxxvii, xxxix, xl, xliii, 55, 71 _Belem_, xv, xvi, xviii, xxxv Berceo (Gonzalo de), xxxvii Bezerra (Branca), xxi _Bible, The_, xxx, xxxvii, xlii, xliii, xlviii _Biscay_, 37 Borges (Felipa), xiii Borges (Valeria), xxxi Braamcamp Freire (Anselmo), vi, ix, xii, xvi, xix, xx, xxii, xxv, xxvi, xxvii, xxix Braga (Theophilo), ix, xvi Braganza, Ferdinand, Duke of, x Braganza, James, Duke of, xx, 23, 75 _Brazil_, xiv, 53 Brito Rebello (Jacinto Ignacio), x, xviii, xxvi _Brittany_, 37 Browning (Robert), xlix, 82 _Brussels_, xxx Calderón (Pedro), xliv, li Camões (Luis de), xxv _Cananor_, xv _Cancioneiro da Vaticana_, xlii _Cancioneiro Geral_, ix, xiii, xxxvii, xlii, xliii, xlv _Candosa_, 80 _Caparica_, 27, 76 _Cartaxo_, 26, 76 _Castilla_, xxviii, xxxii, xlv, 55, 69 Catharine, Queen, xxv, xxix, xlv Caviceo (Jacopo), xliv _Cea_. See _Sea_ Celestina, xlvi _Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles, Les_, l _Certã_. See _Sertãe_ Cervantes (Miguel de), li Charles V, xxv Chiado. _See_ Ribeiro (A.) _Cintra_. See _Sintra_ Clenardus (Nicolaus), 80 _Cochin_, x _Coimbra_, xxix, xli, 37, 55, 56, 57, 63, 78 _Colares_, xxii Colón (Fernando), xliv Columbus (Christopher), xiv _Conde Lucanor, El_, xlviii, l Correa Garcão (Pedro Antonio), li Coutinho, Marshal, xix _Covilham_, 68, 83 _Crato_, xxii _Crete_, xxxii _Cronica Troyana_, xx Cunha (Tristão da), xix, 75, 76 Dante Alighieri, xliii _Danza de la Muerte_, xxiv, xxxvii, xxxviii, xli, xlii, xliv Diaz (Hernando), xliv Dürer (Albrecht), 76 _England_, xlvii Enzina (Juan del), xi, xiii, xx, xxi, xxxi, xli, xlii, xliv, xlv, 73, 75 _Evora_, x, xii, xiii, xxii, xxv, xxviii, xxx, xxxi, xli, xliii Felipe, Infante, xxx Ferdinand the Catholic, xxi, xxxvii Fernández (Lucas), xi, xxii, xxxvi, 73, 83 Fernando, Infante, 29, 77 _Fez_, 31, 35 _Flanders_, 49 Fortunatus (Venantius), 74 _France_, xlii, xlvii, 26, 44, 49, 50, 81 François I, xxx _Fronteira_, 64, 83 Gama (Vasco da), xv Gaunt (John of), x Gautier (Théophile), 73 _Germany_, 49 _Gesta Romanorum_, xlvii _Goa_, xxi Goes (Damião de), xi, xxiii, xxxii, 77 Goethe (Johann Wolfgang von), 11, 73, 74 _Gouvea_, 68, 83 Gower (John), xlvii _Granada_, xiv _Guimarães, x_, xii _Guinea_, 40 Henry, Cardinal-King, 75 Henry, the Navigator, x Herculano (Alexandre), ix Hita, Archpriest of. _See_ Ruiz _Holland_, xlvii Hollanda (Francisco de), 76 Hutten (Ulrich von), 76 _India_, xiv, xv, xix, xxi, xl Isabel, Empress, xxiii, xxviii, 35, 56, 76-7 Isabel, Infanta, xii, xiii Isabel, d. of João III, xxix Isabella the Catholic, xv Iseu, xlv _Italy_, xi, xxix, xlvii, 82 Jews, xxxii, xxxiii, xlix João I, Master of Avis, x João II, x, xii, xiii, xiv, xxxiv João III, xiv, xxiii, xxiv, xxv, xxix, xxx, xxxii, xxxiii, 28 Juan Manuel, Infante, xlviii, l La Fontaine (Jean de), l Lancaster, Philippa of. _See_ Philippa _Landeira_, 26, 76 _Lazarillo de Tormes_, xliii Leite de Vasconcellos (José), vi, ix, xi Lianor, Queen Consort of João II, xii-xv, xvii-xxiii, xxv, l, 73, 74 Lianor, Queen Consort of Manuel I, xxii, xxiii, xxxviii _Lisbon_, x, xiii-xvi, xviii-xxiv, xxvi, xxvii, xxxviii-xl, xlviii Luis, Infante, xviii, xxiii, 23, 75 _Lumiar_, 26, 76 Luther (Martin), xxxiii, xxxvi Machado (Simão), 80 Macias, xliv, 82 _Malaca_, xxi Manrique (Gomez), xxi, 75, 77 Manrique (Jorge), 73 _Manteigas_, 68, 83 Manuel I, xi, xiv, xv, xviii-xxiv, xxxii, xxxvii, xlvi, 73 Maria, Queen, xiv, xxii, xlvi Martial, 78 _Mealhada_, 26, 76 _Medina_, 48, 81 Menander, xxxi Menéndez y Pelayo (Marcelino), v, xvi, xxv, xliv Michaëlis de Vasconcellos (Carolina), vi, ix, x Miguel, Infante, xliii _Minho_, x _Monsarraz_, 64 _Morocco_, 31 Newman (John Henry), Cardinal, xxx, li, 73, 74 Nun' Alvarez Pereira, x Ortiz de Vilhegas (Diogo), 80 Osorio (Jeronimo), xxiii _Oudivellas_, xxx Pacheco Pereira (Duarte), 90, 91 _Pederneira_, 39, 79 Penella, Conde de, xxxiv Philippa, Queen, x Pinto (Frei Heitor), xlix Plautus, xxxi, xliii _Portugal_, x, xx, xxiv, xxxv, xxxvi, xxxvii, xli, xlvii, 31, 77, 78, 81 Portugal (Dom Martinho de), xxviii Pradilla, El Bachiller de la, xxii Prestes (Antonio), l _Prevaricación de Adán_, 74 _Primaleon_, xxv _Psalm LI_, xxv _Quiloa_, xv _Représentation d'Adam_, xlviii Resende (André de), xviii Resende (Garcia de), ix, xii, xvi, xvii, xxxi, xxxiv, 75, 79 _Residencia del Hombre, La_, 74 _Ribatejo_, 26, 76 Ribeiro (Antonio), _O Chiado_, xxvi, xxvii, l Ribeiro (Bernardim), xvi Ribeiro (Nuno), 45, 80 Rodriguez (Diogo), xxii Rodriguez (Melicia), xxii, xxv _Rome_, xxx, xxxi, xxxiii, xxxix, 27, 33, 75, 76 _Roncesvalles_, xlvi Rueda (Lope de), 1 Ruiz (Juan), xliii Sabugosa, Conde de, xii, xxvi Sacchetti (Franco), xxxviii Sá de Miranda (Francisco de), xxix, xliii, xlviii, 78, 79, 82 _Salamanca_, xliii Sanches de Baena, Visconde, xvii Sanchez de Badajoz (Garci), xix San Pedro (Diego de), xliv _Santarem_, xxix, xxx, xxxii, xl, xli, 39 _Santiago de Compostela_, xv _Sardoal_, 69, 70, 83 _Sea_, 68, 83 _Seixal_, 27, 76 _Sergas de Esplandian, Las_, xviii _Serra da Estrella_, x, xi, 55-71, 82 _Sertãe_, 51, 82 _Sevilla_, xliii Shakespeare (William), ix, xlvii, xlviii Shelley (Percy Bysshe), 73 _Sintra_, xxii Sousa Viterbo (Francisco Marques de), xliii Southey (Robert), xxxiv _Spain_, xlii, xlviĩϴαρρε̂ιν Swinburne (Algernon Charles), 73 _Taming of a Shrew_, xlviii Tentugal, Conde de, xxxiv Terence, xliii _Testament de Pathelin_, xlv _Thomar_, xviii, xxiv, xli Ticknor (George), xvii Timoneda (Juan de), xlvii _Tojal_, 27, 76 Torres Naharro (Bartolomé), xi, xxxvi, xlv _Torres Vedras_, xxii _Tragicomedia alegórica del Paraiso y del Infierno_, 1 Trissino (Gian Giorgio), xliii, 79 _Turkey_, 44, 45 Twine (Lawrence), xlvii _Val de Cobelo_, 49, 81 Valdés (Alfonso de), xxix Valdés (Juan de), xxix, xliv _Valencia_, 7 Vasconcellos (Joaquim de), 76 Vaz (Simão), 40 Vega (Lope de), xvi, li Velázquez (Diego), xxxii _Venice_, 49 Vicente (Belchior), xiii, xviii, 90 Vicente (Gaspar), 90 VICENTE (GIL), his birthplace, x, xi; date of his birth, xii-xiii; at Court, xii, 81; as goldsmith, xiv-xviii; his house in Lisbon, xv; his plays, xiv-li; his first wife, xxi; _Mestre da Balança_, xviii; relations with King João III, xxx; his financial position, xxv; his second marriage, xxii; date of his illness, xxvi; his _Caça dos Segredos_, xxvi, xxviii; journey from Coimbra, xxix; at Almada, xix; Coimbra, xxix; Almeirim, xix, xxvi; Thomar, xviii, xxiv; Santarem, xxix, xxx, xxxii; Evora, xxv, xxviii, xxx, xxxi; his Brussels play, xxvii, xxx; children of his second marriage, xxxi; his death, xxxi; his character, xxxi-xxxvii; his attitude towards Spain, xxxii; priests, xxxii, xxxvii; Jews, xxxiii; monks, xxxiv; his religion, xxxiv, 74; his love of Nature, xxxiv; his friends, xxxiv; his attitude towards royalty, xxxiii xxxiv, 83; towards Sá de Miranda and the new style, xxix, xliii; his patriotism, xx, xxxv; his critics, xxiv, xli; his attempts to reform abuses, xxxiii, xxxv, xxxvi; his view concerning the position of women, xxxvi, xlvii; his many-sidedness, xxxvi; his satirical sketches, xxxvii-xli; his lyrism, xli, l; his originality, xli, xlii, xlv; his sources, xli-l; debt to Spain, xlii, xliii; his influence in Portugal, l; in Spain, l, li; edition of his plays, xvi, xxxi, xxxv, li; _Visitaçam_, xi, xiii, xiv, xxiii, xlvi; _Auto Pastoril Castelhano_, xi, xv, xlvi, 73; _Reis Magos_, xi, xv, xlvi; _Auto de S. Martinho_, xv; Sermon, xviii, xix; _Quem tem farelos?_, xv, xix, xxvii, xliii, xlv, xlvi, xlix; _Auto da India_, xix; _Auto da Fé_, xix, xxxiii, xliii, xlviii; _Auto das Fadas_, xix, xxiv, xliii, xlvi, 73, 77; _Farsa dos Fisicos_, xx, xliii, xlvi; _O Velho da Horta_, xiii, xx, xliv; _Exhortação da Guerra_, v, xx, xxi, xxviii, xliv, xlv, 23-35, 75-8; _Auto da Sibila Cassandra_, xv, xx, xliv; _Comedia do Viuvo_, xi, xxi, xxiv, xlvi; _Auto da Fama_, xxi, xlii, xlvii; _Auto dos Quatro Tempos_, xv, xxi, xliv, xlvii; _Barca do Inferno_, xxii, xxxiii, xli, xliv, xlv, xlvii, li; _Auto da Alma_, v, vi, xvii, xxi, xxii, xxxii, xlv, xlvii, li, 1-21, 73, 74; _Barca do Purgatorio_, xxii, xxxiii, xli, xliv, xlv, xlvii, li; _Barca da Gloria_, xxii, xxiv, xxxiii, xli, xliv, xlv, xlvii, li; _Comedia de Rubena_, xx, xxiii, xxiv, xliv, xlv, xlvii; _Cortes de Jupiter_, xxiii, xxiv, xliv, xlvii, 75; _Pranto de Maria Parda_, xxiv, xxviii; _Farsa de Ines Pereira_, xviii, xxiv, xxv, xxvi, xxviii, xlv, xlvii; _Auto Pastoril Portugues_, xxv, xlv; _Fragoa de Amor_, xxv, xxviii; _Farsa das Ciganas_, xxv, xxviii, xlv; _Dom Duardos_, xvii, xxv, xliv, xlv, xlviii; _O Juiz da Beira_, xxvi, xlv, xlviii; _Auto da Festa_, xii, xiii, xxv, xxvii, xxviii, xlviii; _Auto da Aderencia do Paço_, xxvii; _Trovas ao Conde de Vimioso_, xxv, xxvi, xxviii; _Templo de Apolo_, xiii, xvi, xxvi, xxviii, xlviii; _Sumario da Historia de Deos_, xxix, xxxiii, xlii, xlviii, xlix; _Dialogo sobre a Ressurreiçam_, xxix, xlviii; _Nao de Amores_, xxix, xlix, li; _Divisa da Cidade de Coimbra_, xxix, xlix; _Farsa dos Almocreves_, v, xvii, xxix, xlix, 37-53, 78-82; _Tragicomedia da Serra da Estrella_, v, xxix, xlix, 55-71, 82, 83; _Trovas a Dom João III_, xxix; _Auto da Feira_, xvii, xxvii, xxix, xxxiii, xlv, xlix, 74, 81; _Triunfo do Inverno_, xxi, xxix, xlv, xlix; _O Clerigo da Beira_, xxvii, xxix, xlv, xlix; _Trovas a Felipe Guilhen_, 94; _Jubileu de Amores_, xxvii, xxx; _Caça dos Segredos_, xxvi, xxviii; _Auto da Lusitania_, xxviii, xxx, xlix; _Romagem de Aggravados_, xxvii, xxx, xlvi, l; _Auto da Vida de Paço_, xxvii; _Amadis de Gaula_, xxx, xlv, xlviii; _Auto da Cananea_, xxx, xxxiii, 74; _Mofina Mendes_, xi, xxi, xxvii, xxxi, l; _Floresta de Enganos_, xii, xxxi, l Vicente (Luis), xxv, xxxi Vicente (Martim), xii Vicente (Paula), xxxi Villa Nova, Conde de, xxiii Vimioso, Conde de, xxv, xxxiv Virgil, xiii, xliii _Viseu_, 50, 81 Viseu, Duque de, x Wilkins (George), xlvii Wordsworth (William), xxxiv _Zamora_, 79, 81 *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 28399 ***