It would be impossible to furnish an abstract of the tale of love and heroism which forms the subject of this romance. Even on a perusal of the whole, so great is the obscurity, that nothing can be comprehended of the circumstances, without the utmost effort of attention. That Ribeyro has clothed in the disguise of this story, the most interesting events of his own life, is a fact which admits of no doubt; for the contrivance which he adopted with the view of concealing his personal implication, by the intricate arrangement of his romance, is disclosed with the greatest simplicity. The really artless Ribeyro, having so far disguised himself, conceived that by transposing the letters of real names, he did all that was necessary to avoid compromising the individuals of his acquaintance, whom he introduced in his romance, arrayed in the garb of ancient chivalry. Thus Alvaro is converted into Avalor, Joana into Aonia, and Bernardim, the christian name of Ribeyro himself, is changed into Bimnarder and Narbindel. The unconscious simplicity of these transpositions corresponds with the whole tone and style of the romance. The monotony of incessant love complaints renders the prolixity of the narrative still more tedious; but even amidst that monotony and prolixity, it is easy to recognise a spirit truly poetic, more remarkable, however, for susceptibility than for energy. Some of the sentimental passages are distinguished by the charm of a most tender and pathetic sweetness. This characteristic appears even in the introduction, where a story is told of the death of a nightingale, which being perched on the branch of a tree overhanging a brook, dies while singing, and dropping into the brook is carried away by the current, along with the fallen leaves.42 The reader is surprised by these delicate plays of feeling, no less than by many occasional reflexions, which though trivial in the present day, were at the commencement of the sixteenth century by no means common. Thus allusion is made to the absurd notion of women in imagining they can secure the heart of a lover by the same persevering service which pleases themselves in the other sex.43 By traits of this kind, and by the simple truth of description, this old Portuguese romance is sufficiently distinguished from the common class of romances of chivalry, which during the sixteenth century, became in a great measure the fashionable reading of the Spaniards and Portuguese. Spanish literature at that period could not boast of any work written in so cultivated a style, and yet that style soon afterwards became somewhat antiquated. From some passages in which allusion is made to Galician phrases, it is evident that the Portuguese in the age of Ribeyro, carefully distinguished their native tongue as a cultivated language, from the Galician, which had now become a common popular idiom.
In the polite literature of Portugal, Bernardim Ribeyro stands on the boundary of the old national and the modern taste, which at the commencement of the sixteenth century, began to be developed in Portugal as well as in Spain, in consequence of the imitation of the Italian style. In spite of all their defects and deformities, Ribeyro’s verses as well as his prose romance, deserve to be honourably remembered, since they present remarkable monuments of the romantic character of the Portuguese at the period when the national greatness of that poetically organized people began suddenly to decline. A remnant of that character must, however, still be preserved, even by the Portuguese of the present day, otherwise a new edition of Ribeyro’s romance would not at the end of the eighteenth century, have been presented to the Portuguese public, as a proof of the excellence of a language in which such a work was written.44
CHRISTOVAÕ FALCAÕ.
Among the contemporaries of Ribeyro the most distinguished was Christovaõ Falcaõ, or Christovam Falcam. He was a knight of the order of Christ, an admiral, governor of Madeira, and a celebrated poet in the age in which he lived. A long eclogue by this writer, which forms an appendix to the works of Ribeyro,45 so completely partakes of the character of the poems which it accompanies, that were it not for the separate title it might be mistaken for the production of Ribeyro himself. It therefore proves that Ribeyro’s poetic fancies, his romantic mysticism, not excepted, were by no means individual. The fashionable form of the poetry of melancholy love in Portugal, was to complain and yet ostensibly affect to conceal itself. Thus, Christovaõ Falcaõ, by a slight change of his own christian name, gives the name of Crisfal to the shepherd who poetically represents himself. The subject of the poem is the love of Crisfal and Maria, the shepherdess who is the heroine of the eclogue. This shepherdess is evidently a real personage, and it is mentioned by writers on literature that the poet’s mistress had the same Christian name; she was a Maria Brandam. The rural scenery described in this eclogue, like that in the poems of Ribeyro, is all national: the Tagus, the Mondego, and the rocks of Cintra, are introduced here as in Ribeyro’s romance. The story is simple. Two lovers are separated by the severity of their parents. The shepherd relates his sorrows, and calls to mind his past days of happiness. This reminiscence gives birth to a kind of tale which is interwoven with the complaints of the shepherd. The verses are redondilhas, and the eclogue consists of upwards of ninety of the ten line stanzas called decimas, exclusive of some cantigas in shorter stanzas, which are interspersed through the work. The language and style, particularly in the lyric complaints, are even more antiquated than Ribeyro’s. The most truly beautiful portion of the poem is the description of a brief interview and renewed farewell between Crisfal and Maria,46 particularly towards the close.47 The poet throws a veil of mystery over the subsequent fate of Crisfal, and does not choose to hint whether the hapless shepherd survives. A nymph who has heard his complaints inscribes them on a poplar, in order, as it is said, that they may grow with the tree to a height beyond the reach of vulgar ideas.48 So delicate a winding up of the story would not have entered into the imagination of every amatory bard.
Portugal may therefore be regarded as the true native land of romantic pastoral poetry, which, however, about the same period flourished in Italy, where it assumed more cultivated forms, particularly after Sanazzaro had written; but in Portugal alone was it properly national. Two Portuguese writers, Saa de Miranda and Montemayor transferred this style of poetry to Spanish literature.49
Among the works of Falcam, there is a kind of poetic epistle, if it may be so called; but he wrote no didactic epistles. This poetic epistle is in fact merely a lyric romance, which the author has addressed to his mistress in the form of a letter, when, as the superscription expressly mentions, he had secretly married her contrary to the will of her parents; an act for which he incurred the penalty of five years imprisonment. From his prison he addressed verses to his lady.50 Thus it also appears that this Portuguese poet, who afterwards discharged, probably with honour to himself, the duties of admiral and governor, wished to make the same romantic principles the basis of his conduct and his writings.
OTHER ANCIENT LYRIC POEMS.
It is probable that the lyric pieces which are annexed to the old edition of the works of Ribeyro, and which immediately follow the poems of Falcam, were written by the latter. They belong entirely to the class of Villancicos in the Spanish Cancioneros. They are, for the most part, cantigas or glossed mottos; but some are entitled Esparças, or overflowings of the heart.51 In all these songs the plays of antiquated chivalrous wit are very affectedly blended with genuine effusions of the heart. They are, however, like the old Spanish canciones, throughout enlivened by a glimmering of poetic truth; and even the old fashioned conceits successfully contribute to express intensity of feeling. This is particularly the character of the mottos, which appear to be more remarkable for far-fetched quaintness, than the old Spanish compositions of a similar kind. The following may serve as examples:—“I saw the end at the beginning; I see the beginning at the end; so that I know not whether I am beginning or ending.”52 “Since in beholding you, lady, I have lost the knowledge of myself, do not you do against me, that which for your sake I have done against myself.”53 “At variance with myself, great is my danger, for I can neither live with myself nor fly from myself.”54 Some mottos are, however, expressed in a more simple and popular form; but it is remarkable that those which are most inartificial, or destitute of point, are precisely those of which the glosses are more particularly distinguished by nature and grace.55 The Portuguese of this age seem to have been much less disposed than the Spaniards to pourtray in their lyric poetry the continual conflict between passion and reason. Like the Italians the Portuguese gave free utterance to the emotions of the heart, and were only induced to seek after quaint ideas, by an eager desire that the vehemence and depth of their passionate feelings should be energetically and ingeniously expressed.
It would appear that at the commencement of the sixteenth century the romantic pastoral and lyric styles were the only species of poetic composition to the cultivation of which the Portuguese directed their attention. No evidence appears to exist of any remarkable essay in dramatic poetry, before the time of Gil Vicente, who will hereafter be noticed. It is probable that unimportant treatises on poetry and versification, in the style of that which Juan del Enzina wrote in Spanish, existed at the same period in the Portuguese language; and on a comprehensive view of the polite literature of Portugal, previous to the introduction of the Italian style, it will be found that like the true sister of Spanish literature, it was, in an equal degree, susceptible of the reform which presented itself to both.
BOOK II.
FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE SIXTEENTH UNTIL TOWARDS
THE END OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
CHAP. I.
GENERAL VIEW OF THE POETIC AND RHETORICAL
CULTIVATION OF THE PORTUGUESE DURING THE
ABOVE PERIOD.
Relation of Portuguese to Spanish Poetry in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries.
The original relationship between Portuguese and Spanish poetry paved the way for the adoption of the Italian style by the former; for when that style became, during the sixteenth century, naturalized in Spain, a similar change soon followed in the national taste and poetic forms of Portugal. The political conflicts of the two nations did not either then, or at any former period, disturb the harmony of their common poetic feeling. Though the distinctive features in the national character as well as in the language of the Portuguese and Spaniards, might be traced with more precision than heretofore, yet the general customs of both nations remained the same, and the demands of their respective tastes which had been awakened in nearly the same manner, required to be satisfied by similar means. Every species of poetry was not, however, received with equal favour in Spain and Portugal; nor did every style of poetic composition find in each country a poet whose genius was capable of elevating it to particular distinction. In those nations, as elsewhere, fate has, by incomprehensible laws, sometimes summoned the right spirit at the right hour, and has sometimes denied the art to the artist when all external circumstances appeared most favourable, and when the perseverance of emulative competitors was most conspicuous. Thus Portugal cannot boast of a Cervantes, and Spain has given birth to no Camoens.
The Portuguese had raised their country to the same height of political glory as Spain, when their poets began to vie with the Spanish in the ingenious imitation of the Italian forms. After Columbus had discovered America for Spain, as Vasco de Gama had the new way to the East Indies for his own countrymen, the Portuguese lost no time, at least on the eastern coast of the new world, in seizing a share of the rich booty claimed by the Spaniards. The Florentine Amerigo Vespucci in the service of King Emanuel of Portugal, explored a part of the new continent, the whole of which has since borne his name. The papal line of demarcation which divided the newly discovered heathen regions between Spain and Portugal, was equally flattering, though circumstances prevented it from being equally advantageous to both powers. The Portuguese was like the Spaniard, proud of his achievements; and before the mines of Peru had given the highest impulse to Spanish self-esteem, Portugal was already enriched by her Indian treasures. If during the thirty years reign of John III. (from 1521 to 1557) the Portuguese government shewed itself wanting in wisdom, it was not deficient in energy. Even the exertions made to maintain sword in hand, the Portuguese dominion in India, against the constant hostility of the natives, augmented the military strength of the nation, though they proved injurious to its commercial interests. Under these circumstances the bold spirit of commerce was in no danger of degenerating into a petty trading spirit; and the romantic character which Portuguese poetry had from its origin always displayed, could without difficulty develope itself under new features, particularly when the poet himself, like Camoens, was at once a hero and an adventurer.
After the period of the highest greatness of the little kingdom of Portugal had long passed away, its effects still operated powerfully on the spirit and the literature of the nation. To be obliged to become Spanish subjects, on the extinction of their old royal family, deeply mortified the Portuguese; but the shadow of ancient national independence which the cabinet of Madrid found it necessary to concede to Portugal, was sufficient during the whole period in which that country continued under Spanish domination, to maintain in full force the old national hatred between the two countries. This was carried to the highest pitch of exasperation in the hearts of the Portuguese, when they found that in spite of the seeming independence of the kingdom of Portugal, the foreign powers with whom Spain waged incessant war, paid no attention to the distinction between Spanish and Portuguese possessions; and that the Dutch in particular availed themselves of the favourable opportunity to treat the Portuguese as Spaniards, and to deprive them of those valuable possessions in India, for which they were indebted to the enterprising spirit and courage of their ancestors. It required no great political penetration to discover that the most productive source of Portuguese national prosperity had thus become obstructed, and that in all probability such a misfortune would not have occurred had Portugal preserved her independence. Even the nobility and the ecclesiastics, who, contrary to the express wish of the people, had favoured the claims by which Philip II. of Spain was declared Philip I. of Portugal, could not possibly be warm partisans of a government which oppressed the whole country by an absurd and despotic system of administration. During the sixty years therefore in which Portugal felt the weight of Spanish supremacy, every patriotic Portuguese regarded the three Philips, who ruled over his native country, merely as kings of Portugal, unfortunately residing in Madrid. Lisbon continued to be the real Portuguese capital. The ministerial departments of state were still concentrated there; and in conformity with the treaty by which the crown was ceded to Philip, all the public offices in Portugal were filled by native Portuguese. In Lisbon, too, the Portuguese language maintained its ancient consideration in the courts of law, in the polite world, and in literature, though it was not very readily adopted by Spaniards.
The national peculiarities which, even under the Spanish dominion, continued to distinguish the Portuguese from the Spaniards, were attended by consequences remarkably favourable to Portuguese literature, when at last, in the year 1640, the long prepared blow was struck, which rescued Portugal from the yoke of the Spanish sovereigns, and placed John of Braganza on the throne amidst the acclamations of the people. At this period, Spanish poetry had already declined, while on the contrary Portuguese poetry once more revived. The general re-action against every thing Spanish had an inspiring influence on the Portuguese poets, even though they took no part in political affairs. If no second Camoens arose in that age, it nevertheless gave birth to several poets, whose lyric compositions honourably maintained the reputation of their country; and they were eminently successful in gathering the last blossoms of the poetry of romantic love, which had taken the deepest root in Portugal.
CAUSES OF THE CONTINUED CULTIVATION OF THE SPANISH LANGUAGE IN PORTUGAL.
To causes of a totally different nature and in which political interests were but remotely concerned, must be attributed the zeal with which the Portuguese, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, cultivated the language and literature of Spain, along with their mother tongue and the learning of their own country; while the Spaniards of the same period regarded the Portuguese poetry as a mere scion of the Spanish, and besides, generally speaking, looked down with contempt on the language and literature of Portugal. That this unequal conduct of the two nations was not the effect of political causes, is evident from the favour which the Portuguese poets extended to the Castilian language, in the first half of the sixteenth century, when certainly no expectation was entertained of the union of the two kingdoms. Even at that period it was a custom, and indeed a high style of fashion in literature for Portuguese poets to write verses in Castilian as well as in their mother tongue. Saa de Miranda, the poet with whom the most brilliant period of Portuguese literature commences, also holds a place among Spanish poets. Compositions in the Castilian language are indeed interspersed through the works of all the Portuguese poets of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; but nothing could be more extraordinary than to find either verse or prose written in the Portuguese language by a Spaniard.
This phenomenon, which seems to be at variance with Portuguese patriotism, may, however, be explained by the peculiar relations which the Castilian and Portuguese languages bear to each other. The Castilian language has an imposing character which is wanting in the Portuguese; and though the stateliness of the Spanish diction might seem formal and affected to the Portuguese in general, it was likely to make a forcible impression on their poets. The pleasing fluency of the Portuguese tongue, could not, however, operate so favourably on the poets of Spain, for to a Spanish ear the most elegant Portuguese has merely the effect of broken Castilian.56 The Portuguese were indemnified for the Castilian guttural, which so much displeased them, by the sonorous accentuation of the Castilian words; but the Spaniards found much of this accentuation lost in Portuguese by abbreviations of the very words in which it occurs in Spanish. The Castilian too was regarded as the more dignified tongue, because its unabbreviated words, for which it is indebted to the latin, excited more precise recollections of the language of ancient Rome.57 It is probable also, that Castilian pride after the union of the Castilian and Arragonian provinces contributed its share in rendering the Spaniards insensible to the peculiar beauties of the Portuguese language. On the contrary, the flexibility of the Portuguese character more readily accommodated itself to foreign forms. Finally, the dependence of the whole government of Portugal on the court of Madrid, during the space of half a century, rendered the knowledge of the Castilian language indispensable to those Portuguese who were destined to fill the first ministerial departments in their native country; but the Spaniards had no such inducement to learn Portuguese, as they were not permitted to hold any public office in Portugal. Thus did the Spanish language during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, acquire that degree of consideration in Portuguese literature which it afterwards maintained. It should besides be recollected, that during the period in which Portugal continued under the dominion of Spain, a great portion of the bookselling trade had been transferred to Lisbon, the first commercial city in the two united kingdoms; and trifling as this circumstance may at first sight appear, it cannot be doubted that it co-operated to the diffusion of the Spanish language in Portuguese literature.
RELIGIOUS AND POLITICAL CHARACTER OF THE PORTUGUESE DURING THIS PERIOD.
The polite literature of Portugal experienced no disadvantage from certain traits of difference in the Spanish and Portuguese character and manners. The Portuguese who were less addicted to pomp than the Spaniards, were also less inclined to religious fanaticism. The monarchs of Portugal, it is true, exerted their utmost endeavours to inflame the religious prejudices of their subjects, and to teach them to revel in the same delirium of barbarous orthodoxy as the Spaniards. John III. in whose reign Portugal attained the highest pinnacle of her power, did not neglect formally to introduce the Spanish inquisition into his dominions; and the jesuits, who had now begun to excite the alarm of every catholic monarchy, Spain excepted, were in the year 1540, received into Portugal by the same sovereign who proposed to avail himself of the aid of those enterprising defenders and propagators of the old catholic faith, for the conversion of the infidels in both Indies. He consigned to the jesuits the education of his grandson Sebastian, who was his successor on the throne; and the example of the monarch was doubtless imitated by many families of rank. Thus, literary education seems to have been still more jesuitical in Portugal than in Spain; and the dreadful pile, on which heretics were immolated, was lighted up often enough to blunt the moral feelings of the people. But these horrid festivals of superstition accorded less with the Portuguese than the Spanish character. Of the two nations the Portuguese were in disposition the more tolerant, and they continue so to be.58 On this account the spiritual comedies, with which the Spanish public was never satiated, obtained only a transitory success in Portugal. If, then, the fetters imposed on conscience proved only slight restraints to poetic genius in Spain,59 still less could any considerable injury arise from such influence on polite literature in Portugal.
At this period poetry and eloquence were not in Portugal much more than in Spain indebted to support from the throne. The poetic art was nevertheless held in esteem and honour at the court of John III. The time had, indeed, gone by in which the kings of Portugal competed for the laurels of Apollo, and shone conspicuous among the bards of their native land. From the reign of Emanuel the Great, to the period when the dynasty of that monarch became extinct, the kings of Portugal were more disposed to encourage adventurous enterprises in the two Indies than to devote themselves to the cultivation of poetry. John III. however, seems to have possessed a strong taste for dramatic amusements; at least it is related that he himself used to perform parts in the plays of Gil Vicente, which were represented at his court. Sebastian, the ardent disciple of the jesuits, was occupied in the fulfilment of his presumed destiny to extend the glory of his faith and his name by romantic achievements, until in the fatal conflict, by which he hoped to render himself master of Fez and Morocco, he was lost among the lifeless wreck of his defeated army: and Camoens, the no less ardent disciple of the muses, whose enthusiasm in his sovereign’s cause was both patriotic and poetic, was left by Sebastian to languish in bitter poverty. Old Cardinal Henry, though a lover of literature, found, on ascending the throne, sufficient occupation in providing for the political welfare of the country. That the Spanish kings who next governed Portugal bestowed little or no attention on Portuguese poetry and eloquence, is a fact to which it is scarcely necessary to advert. On the accession of John of Braganza, it is probable that the government would have done more for the national drama, which had hitherto been left to work its own way, had not the Portuguese, after the death of the inventive Gil Vicente, fallen further behind the Spaniards in dramatic composition than in any other class of poetry. The royal patronage now arrived too late. Portugal possessed no national drama like that of Spain; and for the non-existence of that branch of literature the people and not the government must be held responsible. The causes which prevented dramatic poetry in Portugal from attaining that degree of excellence to which it arrived in Spain, will be noticed in their proper place, in so far as they can be ascertained or conjectured. The distinguished favour, however, which the Italian opera at length obtained from the court of Lisbon was not only unprofitable to Portuguese national poetry, but contributed to banish it still further from the stage. There was of course now less reason than ever to hope for the establishment of a genuine and well cultivated national drama in Portugal.
To the Portuguese nation must be attributed the excellencies and the defects which Portuguese poetry and eloquence presented throughout the whole of this period. In Portugal, no poet, who wished to distinguish himself within the sphere of his art, presumed to dictate legislatorily to the national taste. No one, by striking out a new path, sought to explore the unbeaten regions of his native Parnassus. No sects, like those which occasionally arose in Spain, disturbed the poetic harmony of the Portuguese poets, whose various voices were always attuned in national concord. The influence which the Italian poetry gained over the Portuguese was recognised with equal willingness by the poets and the public. It cannot, however, be denied that this national harmony of the Portuguese poets during the most brilliant period of the polite literature of their nation, gave rise to a certain spirit of self-satisfaction, which though very favourable to subordinate talent, was by no means calculated to awaken genius. The higher beauties of the poetic art were not scrupulously demanded: to secure success it was sufficient that an author should elevate himself in a slight degree above the common makers of verse. Romantic ideas tolerably versified in pleasing language were all that a Portuguese poet found necessary in order to secure the esteem and the eulogy of that public on whose decision his reputation depended. Eminent poetic merit could be appreciated by very few, and it received no particular encouragement or uncommon reward. Thus it happened that the state of poetic public spirit among the Portuguese created no demand beyond an extensive improvement of the national poetry. The great mass of the people adhered to the old romance style; while the nobility, men of education, and finally, all who wished to mingle in fashionable society, preferred the Italian forms, on which, however, the Portuguese national impress was always discernible. But the majority of the poets whose names acquired celebrity, belonged to noble families;—for in Portugal, as in Italy and Spain, every one who wished to gain distinction at court, or in the army, or as a well educated man of the world, composed verses; and even ecclesiastics who were anxious to gain the good graces of the fair sex, found it necessary to lay claim to poetic cultivation. Among the princes of the royal house, the Infante Dom Manoel, who stands in a kind of poetic relationship with Saa de Miranda, seems to be the last who was distinguished for writing passable verse.
CHAP. II.
HISTORY OF PORTUGUESE POETRY AND ELOQUENCE
FROM THE EPOCH OF THE INTRODUCTION OF
THE ITALIAN STYLE, TILL TOWARDS THE END
OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
Tranquil Adoption of the Italian Style.
The introduction of the Italian style into Portuguese poetry was unaccompanied by any remarkable struggle or sensation. No mention is made by writers on general literature, of the existence of a party strenuously opposed to that style in Portugal; and even the works of the Portuguese poets present few or no traces of any literary conflict on the subject. That a change which excited so violent a storm in Spain passed tranquilly in Portugal, was certainly not owing to indifference on the part of the Portuguese in matters of taste. But the Portuguese most distinguished for cultivation, were not attached to the old romance poetry by so decided a predilection as the Castilians. Besides, as has already been stated, that class had become, at an early period, acquainted with Italian poetry. Some of the Italian syllabic metres might already be regarded as vernacular in Portugal, and the spirit of Italian poetry was certainly not unknown to the Portuguese, since they had, from an early period possessed translations of some of Petrarch’s sonnets. Thus the way was already traced out for the thorough reform of the old taste, and the natural flexibility of the Portuguese character was more easily reconciled than Castilian stubbornness to that reform. When, therefore, even Spanish poets had set the judicious example of improving their national poetry, an opposition which would have appeared the mere imitation of an unreasonable party spirit was not to be expected in Portugal. Finally, the poet with whose works the new epoch in Portuguese poetry commences, so successfully seized the delicate tone by which the union of the Italian and the old Portuguese styles was to be accomplished, that the national taste found in him precisely what it required, and the innovation was accommodated to the Portuguese character under the most pleasing forms.
SAA DE MIRANDA.
The romantic Theocritus, Saa de Miranda, one of the most distinguished poets of the sixteenth century, has already been noticed in the History of Spanish Poetry.60 He shines indeed more conspicuously among the Spanish than the Portuguese poets; but in his native country he stands at the head of a poetic school. The present is, therefore, the fit place to relate the necessary particulars of his biography.61
Saa de Miranda, the descendant of a noble family, was born at Coimbra, in the year 1495. His parents destined him for the study of the law, and wished, if possible, that he might become professor of jurisprudence in his native city. To occupy the chair of a teacher of law was at that period considered an object worthy of the ambition of persons of rank; and to take an interest in the prosperity of the university of Coimbra was found to be a strong recommendation to the favour of the sovereign. Saa de Miranda had but little taste for jurisprudence, yet, for the sake of pleasing his parents, he pursued his study of legal science until he obtained the degree of doctor. He was afterwards appointed to a professorship, and is said to have distinguished himself by his lectures. But on the death of his father, Saa de Miranda immediately bade farewell to jurisprudence, and resolved to live after his own taste. We are not informed what age he had attained at this period. That his character was, however, truly poetic, is sufficiently obvious, not only from his writings, but from several anecdotes which are related of him. In mixed companies he often sat in a state of silent abstraction, without observing or being aware that he was himself observed. Tears would sometimes flow from his eyes, without any apparent cause, and he himself was so little conscious of their presence, or cared so little to conceal them, that if any one happened to address him, he would, while he suffered himself to be quietly drawn into conversation, frequently forget to dry his moistened cheeks. He cherished a particular desire to travel; and this inclination he gratified when filial duty no longer bound him to the professor’s chair. He declined the offers of King John III. who, in order to detain him would have provided for him in another way, and proceeded to Spain, where he probably acquired a more intimate knowledge of the Castilian language than he had before possessed. He next travelled to Italy, and visited the cities of Venice, Rome, Florence, Naples, and Milan, where he found sufficient opportunities for rendering himself intimately acquainted with the Italian poetry. On his return to his native country he was appointed to a place at court, and enjoyed the favour of the king. He was now accounted one of the most accomplished courtiers in Lisbon, notwithstanding the cast of melancholy which still distinguished him. His pastoral poetry, however, peaceful as its character was, involved him in a dispute with a Portuguese nobleman, who discovered in an eclogue some allusions which he applied to himself. The quarrel having become warm, the poet found it necessary to quit the court. He retired to his estate of Tapada near Ponte de Lima, in the province of Entre Minho e Douro, where he devoted himself wholly to his literary studies, and to the cultivation of rural and domestic happiness. Next to poetry, he took most interest in practical philosophy. His acquaintance with ancient literature was sufficient to enable him to enrich his books with passages from Homer, in the form of marginal notes. He also understood music, and was a performer on the violin. Notwithstanding the gentleness of his temperament, he was fond of chivalrous exercises, and took particular delight in hunting the wolf. He lived happily with his wife, though she was not handsome nor even young at the period when he married her. During his life, his poetic fame was widely spread. Several poets, who reflect honour on their native country, particularly Antonio Ferreira and Andrade Caminha, formed themselves chiefly on the model of Saa de Miranda. His two comedies so highly pleased the Infante Cardinal Henry, that they were performed in the palace of that prince, before a company of prelates, and other persons of rank. After the poet’s decease these comedies were printed by order of the cardinal. Having reached the sixty-third year of his age, he died universally admired and beloved, at Tapada, in the year 1558.
No trace of resemblance to a style produced by imitation, distinguishes the works of Saa de Miranda from the more ancient Portuguese poetry. What he learnt from the Italians was a genuine though not perfect refinement of the old Portuguese style, under more beautiful forms. He was indeed, and ever continued to be, too true a Portuguese to aim at the highest degree of Italian correctness, though it appears, from what he has himself stated, that he was most industrious in the revisal of his works.62 According to his own declaration, it also appears that he did not rely with much more confidence on systematic criticism, than on the fickle approbation of the public. That feeling under the dominion of which he always lived and moved, was, in the dernier resort, his critical rule and guide. The Italian models only directed him to the course which he himself would naturally have adopted. To use his own expression, he culled flowers with the muses, the loves, and the graces.63
Had Saa de Miranda been in a greater degree an imitator than a self-dependent poet, his sonnets would, doubtless, have been more numerous; for he was peculiarly fitted, from his knowledge of the delicacies of the Italian style, to shine in that form of composition. But his Portuguese as well as his Spanish sonnets are few in number; and those of the tender cast, like the sonnets of Boscan, and most of the Spanish writers, entirely harmonize with the old national tone. Besides indulging himself in the use of masculine rhymes, he represented the complaints of love in the old strain of despair, and contributed his share in pourtraying the endless conflict between passion and reason.64 But he particularly excelled in painting the soft enthusiasm of love,65 and his sonnets acquire a peculiar colouring from the mixture of pastoral simplicity, which he could never entirely exclude from his style of poetic representation. The reiterated allusion to the joys and sorrows of human existence, and the transitoriness of all things, is a grecian trait in the compositions of this poet.66
The romantic pastoral world was the native sphere of Saa de Miranda’s muse. The greater number and by far the most beautiful of his eight eclogues are, however, in the Spanish language, for he wrote only two in Portuguese. It can scarcely be doubted, therefore, that Saa de Miranda considered the Spanish language to be more expressive or more elegant than the Portuguese, or that for some other reason he preferred it to his mother tongue; and yet as far as a foreigner may presume to judge between the two languages, his choice ought to have been reversed, for the Portuguese seems expressly formed for romantic pastoral poetry. Perhaps Saa de Miranda thought, without being himself clearly conscious of entertaining such an idea, that it was more poetic to give dignity to the soft pastoral style, by the help of the sonorous Castilian tongue, than to suffer it to be altogether naturally expressed through the medium of the Portuguese idiom. For the character of his pastoral style was to be romantic and wholly national, to resemble the idyllic style of Theocritus only in the simplicity of rural expression, but by no means to be popular, in a prosaic sense. Whether Saa de Miranda’s shepherds and shepherdesses converse in Spanish or in Portuguese, the rural scene is always laid in Portugal. On this account the first of the two Portuguese eclogues of this modern Theocritus, is partly unintelligible to the foreigner, who possesses only a literary knowledge of the peculiarities of the rural idiom of Portugal. The poet himself observes, at the conclusion of his dedicatory stanzas to the Infante Dom Manoel, that he discourses in a new language.67 The new language here alluded to is produced by a delicate blending of the turns most remarkable for graceful simplicity in the Portuguese vernacular dialect, with a set of dignified words and phrases approximating more nearly to the latin. But the effect of the union is very imperfectly appreciated by a foreigner; and the finest charm of the expression is lost in the labour of studying a poetic language of this kind. Besides the simplicity of the composition does not exclude from Saa de Miranda’s eclogues, those mysterious allusions to the romantic manners of the age, which are so common in the writings of the old Portuguese poets. The first eclogue which he wrote in his native language, abounds in such allusions, though it is in other respects one of the least artificial of the poet’s productions in the class to which it belongs. It is a pastoral dialogue in tercets concerning love and indifference, happiness and unhappiness. Three cantigas, the first in octaves, the second in redondillas and in the Spanish language, and the third in the syllabic measure of an Italian canzone, form the poetic essence of this, simple composition. The disposition to prefer the Spanish language for imagery, and the Portuguese for reasoning, which is a striking feature in Saa de Miranda’s poetry, plainly betrays itself in this eclogue. The romantic conversation which forms the frame work to the cantigas in this eclogue, consists chiefly of general observations, which in the simple pastoral language in which they are expressed, have a very piquant character, but which are rendered scarcely intelligible to a foreigner, by the occurrence of broken popular phrases in a half ironical, half serious tone.68 To the philological obscurity of several passages is added the enigmatical expression of suppressed pain, which, however, is natural enough in the mouths of the persons to whom it is assigned. In a word this eclogue is entirely national. None but a Portuguese can justly estimate its poetic merits and demerits. To a foreigner the cantigas are decidedly the best portion.69
The second Portuguese eclogue, included in the works of Saa de Miranda, has essentially the same tone and character as the first; with this difference, that it is versified throughout in national stanzas of ten lines (decimas). Descriptions of the general instability and transitory nature of earthly things are particularly conspicuous in this as well as in several of Miranda’s other poems.70 But it would be in vain to look in these Portuguese eclogues for passages of such exquisite beauty as those which occur in the Spanish eclogues of the same author. It was only on the Castilian Parnassus that Saa de Miranda established his fame as one of the most distinguished of bucolic poets. With the exception of elegant language and versification, his Portuguese eclogues are not much superior to the cordial effusions of Ribeyro.
Saa de Miranda seems to have wished to display his native language to advantage in another department of composition, in which, however, he did not shine with equal lustre. A series of poetic epistles which in the collection of his works follow the pastoral poems, are all, except one, written in Portuguese. At the time of their appearance, no similar productions existed in Portuguese literature: but they were speedily surpassed by other writers. Nevertheless it is not merely for the circumstance of their being first attempts that they claim attention. They are distinguished from other poems of this class by the delicate and characteristic union of that peculiar style of pastoral poetry which Miranda formed for his eclogues, with a didactic diction which indicates the disciple of Horace. At the same time Horatian ideas are but thinly scattered through these epistles, and Miranda’s elegance of language is far from reaching the force and precision of the latin model. The poetry in which he endeavoured to approach the style of Horace, is of the romantic didactic class—full of sound morality, conveyed in ingenious reflections and pleasing representations—full of truth and warmth of feeling—but like all romantic poetry, it is somewhat too prolix, and its learning like the most of that which has passed through the scholastic conduits of the cloister, is not drawn from a very profound source. To interest by new views and ideas in didactic poetry, was not a task suited to a catholic poet of the sixteenth century, and least of all to one who so piously adhered to the principles of his faith as Saa de Miranda. The most interesting ideas of this poet, in so far as the value of such ideas is to be considered, must be estimated by their truth and not by their novelty; and their natural application to manners and characters within the scope of the poet’s own observation, constitutes the basis of their poetic merit. The verse chiefly employed consists of light redondilhas, running in stanzas of five lines; and thus, even in metrical form, these epistles depart considerably from the style of Horace. The two last, which, together with those written in the Spanish language, are versified in tercets, must in other respects be ranked in the same class with the rest. Miranda, according to the old custom, styles the whole series of these compositions Cartas (letters), and not Epistolas, the term which at a somewhat later period was properly, though not generally employed by Portuguese writers, to designate poems of a didactic or amusing description under the form of individual correspondence. The first is addressed to the king. After a long series of introductory compliments, full of the accustomed phrases of servile devotion to the throne, the author enters into popular reflections on the art of government, and particularly on the risk of deception, to which sovereigns of the best intentions are constantly exposed. Some of these reflections resolve very happily into practical traits of didactic description.71 Miranda must be forgiven for his useless display of erudition which was quite in the spirit of his age. In recompense, the legitimate character of the poet predominates throughout the whole composition. The succeeding epistles possess more of the light ironical tone of Horace. They are addressed to friends and acquaintances. They relate to the advantages of rural life;—the equivocal nature of city manners and amusements;—the mischievous effects of luxury in Portugal since the introduction of the treasures of India;—the value of literary occupation;—and similar subjects, which an author, who had lived in the gay world, and afterwards retired to solitude, might be expected to discuss in pleasing verse. Thus from the nature of their subjects Miranda’s epistles may also be ranked among the literary pictures of manners in the sixteenth century. The philanthropic and patriotic poet particularly laments the insatiable spirit of trade which prevailed in his native country. He declares his opinion that danger was not to be apprehended from the extended love of the arts and sciences, but from the “perfumes of the Indian spices,” which had the melancholy effect of enervating the old national character.72
Saa de Miranda also contributed to improve the sacred poetry of his native country. His two hymns to the Holy Virgin were the first compositions in Portuguese literature which were executed entirely in the style of the Italian canzone. They cannot, however, be regarded as lyric master pieces any more than the spiritual canzoni of the Italians. Had a catholic poet been able to guard himself against romantic prolixity in such hymns, still must his fancy, on any attempt to elevate it to the poetic spirit of the ode, have again been subdued by the humiliating idea of the guilt and unworthiness of man; and the more truly Christian the song of praise might be, the more would it partake of the litany character. Saa de Miranda cannot be regarded as a model for the composition of hymns. But in his two spiritual Canções he extended the sphere of Portuguese lyric poetry by the noble diction which he introduced into them.73 In the second Cançaõ he has, among other faults, indulged in a play on words, than which no verbal conceit could be more antipoetic; for he finds a wonderful analogy of contradiction between the fall of womankind and the merits of the Holy Virgin, in the name Eve and the word Ave with which the angelical salutation commences.74 But these remains of monkish quibbling are to be expected in spiritual, and particularly in catholic spiritual poems of the sixteenth century.
In the series of Saa de Miranda’s lyric poems, there are several popular songs written in some of the more ancient forms of Portuguese poetry, which are, however, dignified by purity of language and accuracy of expression and versification. These songs are chiefly of the style called cantigas, or poetic mottos, with variation (voltas) which are shorter than the Spanish glossas. They repeat the idea of the motto differently turned or applied, but its text is not literally interwoven with the variations; and this is precisely the difference of form which distinguishes the older Portuguese cantigas from the Spanish villancicos. To these lyric compositions is added a beautiful elegy in tercets, in which Miranda with manly dignity bewails the death of his beloved son who accompanied King Sebastian to Africa, and who fell in the same battle in which that monarch lost his life.75
With Saa de Miranda the literary history of the Portuguese drama likewise commences. Any attempts at dramatic composition which may have been previously made in the Portuguese language, obtained no literary celebrity, and are now forgotten. That in the time of Saa de Miranda, theatres existed in Lisbon, in which dramas, similar to those in the Spanish language were performed, is a fact sufficiently evident from several allusions in Miranda’s two comedies, as well as from the works of Gil Vicente, which will soon claim particular notice. But no national taste for any particular species of drama was then formed in Portugal. The Castilian style could not give the tone to the Portuguese; for at the period in question, which was half a century previous to the birth of Lope de Vega, the Spanish drama was still in its infancy and wavering amidst heterogeneous forms. Thus the Portuguese writers who turned their attention to dramatic poetry, were not, in their choice of styles and forms, restrained by any capricious conditions demanded by the public. These circumstances afforded an opportunity for commencing, without any literary warfare, the improvement of the Portuguese drama by the works of two poets, who like Saa de Miranda and Gil Vicente trod in very different paths. Miranda wrote two comedies in prose. They are dramas of character in the style of Plautus and Terence:—one is entitled Os Estrangeiros (the Foreigners); the other is called Os Vilhalpandos, from two Spanish soldiers, who had both adopted the name Vilhalpando, which, at that period, was probably celebrated in the military world. It has already been mentioned that the Infante Cardinal Henry was particularly pleased with these two dramas, that he permitted them to be performed at his court, and that he gave orders for having them printed. How they happened to obtain these honours is explained partly by their own intrinsic merits and partly by contingent and temporary circumstances. At the papal court, in the beginning of the sixteenth century, a favourable reception had been given to the early Italian comedies in prose, and in particular to Bibiena’s Calandra.76 Miranda’s taste had been formed in Italy, and what pleased a pope might well afford entertainment to a cardinal. Miranda, as a dramatic poet, retraced the footsteps of Bibiena and Ariosto; and Cardinal Henry of Portugal followed the example of Leo X. It is, however, more than probable that the Portuguese public was not induced by such high patronage to manifest particular regard for this class of dramatic entertainments, any more than the Italian public had been, by the marks of distinction bestowed on the plays of Bibiena and Ariosto.
The two comedies of Miranda are, nevertheless, even at the present day, worthy the attention of the critic. They are the first compositions of their kind in Portuguese literature; and in none of the essentials of the dramatic art are they surpassed by the subsequent productions for which they have served as models. Both dramas exhibit highly natural, though not ingenious delineations of character, unaffected diction, and a pleasing and rapid flow of dialogue; and though in their composition they really possess but little dramatic merit, still it is evident that a dramatic spirit has governed their execution.77 These comedies are indeed imbued throughout with the delicate and refined spirit of a poet, whose aversion from pedantry was equal to his feeling of delicacy and love of nature. Miranda, as a dramatist, endeavoured to draw common characters from the life, after the manner of Plautus and Terence, of whom he avowed himself an imitator,78 but he felt the necessity of elevating, by some degree of refinement, the vulgar phraseology which the characters he chose to pourtray actually employed in common life. For this purpose he availed himself of the interesting popular style in which he acquired such extraordinary facility as an idyllic poet. Had the poetic spirit of this popular style shone as conspicuously in his comedies as in his pastoral poems, the former, like the latter, would have been novel and single in their kind. But Saa de Miranda was born a pastoral poet, and only made himself a dramatist by imitation. If he had been penetrated with the spirit of the comic dramatists of Rome, as he was with that of the father of the Greek bucolic, he would have endeavoured to become a Portuguese Plautus or Terence in the same manner as he became a Portuguese Theocritus. He would not then have transplanted foreign manners to the comic stage of his native land. Still less would he have imitated his models in the manner of Bibiena; a manner which even in Italy had been relinquished by Ariosto, who, as a dramatist, struck into the same bypath, and missed the goal. Miranda then did not, strictly speaking, follow Plautus and Terence; but Bibiena and Ariosto, in their character of imitators of those ancient poets, were his guides in the region of dramatic poetry, where the spirit of modern times demanded more than he was capable of supplying. Besides, why did this poet, who was a master in the art of versification, write his dramas in prose? Wishing to adhere throughout to the nature of prose, he makes the principal persons of his dramas explain, chiefly in soliloquies, their own characters, with a garrulity, which though certainly natural, is nevertheless low and tedious; and the popular morality which floats in this prolix stream of vulgar phraseology affords no pleasurable compensation to the auditor or reader.79 Faithful to his models, Miranda has not, in either of his two comedies, laid the scene of action in his native country, where he might have dramatized national customs; the events which he describes are supposed to take place in Italy, and the manners, and in general the characters which he paints, are Italian. In the selection of those characters, he however follows Plautus and Terence, without paying any apparent regard to the distinction between different ages, by which the choice of the dramatic poet ought to be directed. Of the principal characters there is only one perfectly modern in the Estrangeiros, and in like manner only one of the same description appears in the Vilhalpandos. The first is a pedantic doctor named Juris; the second is a lady named Fausta, a hypocrite, surrounded by a group of pretended devotees. The other characters in Miranda’s two dramas, besides valets and waiting maids, are some old men, ostentatious soldiers, and enamoured youths, a grumbling tutor, (ayo,) two or three merchants, a parasite, (truhaõ,) a match-maker, (casamenteiro), and others of a still baser description, which the author seems to have thought could not be dispensed with in any imitation of the ancient drama. In the Vilhalpandos the author has also incidentally introduced the modern characters of a hermit and a French page. No remarkable intricacy of events is produced by these characters being brought in contact with each other; for Saa de Miranda was not formed to be a writer of dramas of intrigue. His scenes are strung together, rather than drawn out of each other. It is not worth while more minutely to analyze the composition of these two dramas. No highly comic scenes occur in either of them. But their general tone is spirited; and, if well performed, they doubtless would, in the age in which they were produced, interest an audience disposed to be pleased with the comic delineation of character; for most of the scenes are of a kind which might enable a player to supply by good acting that comic force in which they are deficient. Thus it happened that though the Portuguese public took no particular interest in dramas of this class, no party was formed, as in Italy, avowedly hostile to them. The bitterest portion of the satire with which Miranda invigorates, not the comic spirit, but the morality of his dramas, is directed against the Italian and particularly the Romish priesthood, to whose scandalous mode of life, the basest characters are made, as the most proper witnesses in such a case, to bear ample testimony. It appears, therefore, that at this time satire might be openly and fearlessly directed against the clergy, and that its application in that way was not displeasing to the heads of the Portuguese church; for had it been otherwise, so pious a writer as Saa de Miranda would scarcely have ventured to indulge in such representations even if he could have made them in secret.
Having taken a general view of the services which this memorable writer rendered to Portuguese poetry, it can scarcely be necessary to state that he was the first classic poet of his nation; but if it be wished to make a more rigid application of this title and to confer it only on writers, whose poetic cultivation, according to the classic models of the ancients, leaves nothing farther to be desired, it were better to abstain altogether from employing it in the history of modern poetry. Miranda presented to his countrymen the first example of the manner in which poetic genius aspiring to the highest pinnacle of art, ought to study the classic poets of antiquity, in order to acquire clearness of poetic perception, solid judgment in invention and precision, elegance and ingenious simplicity in composition and diction, without renouncing his individual character and the genius of his age and nation.80
The account of the classic school which Saa de Miranda founded in Portuguese poetry, must be deferred until historical justice be rendered to the genius of a less cultivated poet, who flourished at the same period with Saa de Miranda, but who chose for himself a totally different path on the Portuguese Parnassus.
GIL VICENTE.
Writers on literature have not recorded the date of the birth of Gil Vicente, who is styled the Portuguese Plautus.81 There is reason to suppose that at the latest he was born within twenty years of the close of the fifteenth century. It is known that he belonged to a family of rank, and that he studied the law in compliance with the wish of his family. But it appears that he speedily relinquished his juridical studies and devoted himself wholly to the dramatic art. It is not recorded whether or not he was regularly pensioned as a writer to the court; but he was most indefatigable in furnishing the royal family and the public with dramatic entertainments suited to the taste of the age. He constantly resided at court, where his poetic talents were held in permanent requisition for the celebration of spiritual as well as temporal festivals; and no dramatic writer in Europe was more admired and esteemed than Gil Vicente. His first productions were performed with approbation at court in the reign of Emanuel the Great; but his reputation acquired additional brilliancy in the reign of John III. a monarch who, as has already been mentioned, did not scruple in his younger years to perform characters in the dramas of this favourite author. Vicente seems also to have possessed all the requisite qualifications for a theatrical manager. We are not informed whether he was himself an actor; but he was the tutor of the most distinguished actress of his age, namely, his daughter Paula, maid of honour to the Infanta Maria, a poetess, an amateur performer on several instruments, and, as it appears, celebrated for every thing except beauty. Erasmus is said to have learned Portuguese for the express purpose of reading the comedies of Vicente in the original. There are no notices extant by which farther insight into the personal character of this poet could be obtained. He died in the year 1557 at Evora, and, as there is reason to believe, at an advanced age. Five years after his death, his son Luis Vicente edited a complete collection of his works, or at least of all that had been preserved in manuscript.82
Gil Vicente would have been the Portuguese Lope de Vega, if not something even superior, had he been born half a century later, and had he been as much indebted to his age as the Spanish dramatist was to that in which he flourished. But no one was less calculated than Gil Vicente to become an improver of taste; and indeed he was far from being ambitious of earning that honourable title. Had not the favour of the public been continued to him and his dramas even after the middle of the sixteenth century, when the school of Saa de Miranda had risen and acquired the ascendancy in the polite world, he might with propriety be ranked as the last in the series of the Portuguese poets of the fifteenth century. His diction, as well as his whole poetic style, belongs to that age, and to the latest period of his life he continued faithful to the old national manner. In the conflict with the new style introduced by Saa de Miranda’s school, Gil Vicente appeared as the representative of the yet enduring national taste, which even at court, where the adherents of the new party were most honourably distinguished, preserved a co-equal authority with that party. That each party should under such circumstances maintain its credit is not a little remarkable. Perhaps they became accommodated to each other merely because the Portuguese had no relish for literary feuds. It may be presumed that each party therefore felt itself secure, and, content with its own security, took no notice of the other.
Here we again arrive at the point, at which the historian of the cultivation of the Portuguese and Spanish drama finds a stumbling-block in the way of his enquiries; for the materials necessary to the right prosecution of his labour are either entirely wanting or involved in contradiction. In the history of the Spanish theatre it has already been stated how little positive knowledge the Spaniards possessed even in the age of Cervantes and Lope de Vega, respecting the early formation of their national comedy.83 To Torres Naharro, so strangely overlooked by Cervantes, the honour of being the real father of the Spanish comedy, must, on every just principle of historical criticism, be conceded. But Gil Vicente was a contemporary of Torres Naharro; and the dramatic compositions of the Portuguese poet, so far approximate to the ruder forms of the Spanish comedy, as to entitle Portuguese writers to claim for their own country the honour of the invention of that comedy. Spanish Autos either did not exist in the beginning of the sixteenth century, or if they did, they have disappeared from the domain of literature. A whole series of Autos by Gil Vicente are, however, extant; and several were written within the first ten years of the sixteenth century. Some are entirely in the Spanish language; others are half in Portuguese and half in Spanish, but all present, in their radical features, the form and character of the Spanish spiritual comedy. Was Gil Vicente then the first writer who exhibited a kind of poetic design in dramatic entertainments for the celebration of christian festivals, and thus raised to literary consideration a style of composition which had previously been degraded by monks and buffoons? Or are the corresponding works of contemporary Spanish writers lost in oblivion? Was Gil Vicente an imitator of Torres Naharro, or did the latter copy from the former?
The number of dramas which Gil Vicente has bequeathed to posterity is considerable, though compared with the fertility of some of the Spanish poets, by no means extraordinary. They are arranged in classes either by himself, or, as is more probable, by his son, by whom they were published; and in taking a critical view of them this classification is very convenient. At the commencement appear the Autos or spiritual dramas; next follow some anomalous works, which are oddly enough, in preference to all others, styled comedies; these are succeeded by the tragi-comedies; and last of all come the Farsas. Various small poems in the Spanish and Portuguese languages form an appendix to the collection. These works display a true poetic spirit, which, however, accommodated itself entirely to the age of the poet, and which disdained all cultivation. The dramatic genius of Gil Vicente is equally manifest from his power of invention, and from the natural turn and facility of his imitative talent. Even the rudest of these dramas is tinged with a certain degree of poetic feeling. Scenes in stanzas and redondilhas which, though harmonious, are of antiquated construction, succeed each other with wonderful truth and simplicity. But there appears in these compositions no perception of what may be properly called the perfection of dramatic poetry; and no trace of an endeavour to attain classic excellence, calls to mind the spirit of the sixteenth century. Gil Vicente’s language, too, is altogether in the old and uncultivated style.
The Autos, or spiritual dramas, contained in the collected works of this poet, are sixteen in number. They cannot properly be called Corpus Christi pieces, or Autos Sacramentales; for most of them were written to be performed on Christmas night, in celebration of that festival, either before the court at Lisbon, or at royal residences in the country, and they perfectly correspond with the object for which they were intended. Pastoral poetry forms the basis of the whole, even of those which, taking a totally different turn from the rest, become alternately didactic and allegoric. By this characteristic feature they are distinguished from most of the Autos of Spanish or posterior origin. Accident favoured the national poetic genius of the Portuguese in the creation of the spiritual pastoral drama. Gil Vicente while yet a youth and a tyro in the poetic art, surprised King Emanuel and the Queen on the birth of the Infante, afterwards King John III. by the production of a little pastoral drama, which appears better adapted for celebrating the festival of Christmas than the birth of a hereditary prince, but which was, perhaps, on that very account the more flattering to the royal family. This pastoral drama is, in consequence of the distinction it thus obtained, placed before Vicente’s Autos, and a notice by the son of the poet explains the reason why that precedence is assigned to it. The little piece is written in the Spanish language. Vicente’s son observes in his notice, that it was received with particular favour because it was something new in Portugal.84 It is therefore probable that at this period Gil Vicente, as yet unconscious of his own talent, only followed in the footsteps of the venerable Juan del Enzina.85 Having at the request of the royal family altered his piece in such a way as to render it more suitable to representation at Christmas, he was thus accidentally directed into the path which naturally led to the union of dramatic poetry with christian mysteries, and which he afterwards steadily explored. Year after year with increasing taste and fancy he continued to write Christmas pieces, which at last assumed a more enlarged form. Among the personages introduced in these dramas there are always some of the pastoral class, intended to represent directly, and also in a certain degree allegorically, the shepherds at the manger of Bethlehem. But the inventive poet soon advanced a step further. He composed dramas in the same style for the celebration of other religious festivals, without any admixture of pastoral poetry. Among his Autos, however, there is one in celebration of the festival of Corpus Christi, which was one of his earliest productions. The notice annexed to it states that it was performed in the year 1504. It is founded on a simple incident in the life of St. Martin, and possesses scarcely any thing of the character of the later spiritual dramas, or Autos Sacramentales, properly so called. But a far greater display of fancy and theatrical splendour, was the result of Gil Vicente’s subsequent endeavours to dramatize the mysteries of the catholic faith. It would appear that spiritual dramas of this class, in which so much was to be seen and admired, had never before been produced either on the Portuguese or the Spanish stage. It cannot, therefore, be doubted, that Gil Vicente’s Autos had their effect on the Spanish dramatists of the sixteenth century; and that if they were not imitated as models, they served at least as examples for emulation.
The invention and the execution of Gil Vicente’s Autos present an equal degree of rudeness. The least artificial are also those in which the most decided traits of national character appear. The shepherds and shepherdesses who are introduced into these Autos are Portuguese and Spanish both in their names and manners. Their simple phrases and turns of language are similar to those employed by the characters in Saa de Miranda’s eclogues, except that their discourse is more negligent and occasionally more coarse. In combining the appearance of angels, the devil, the holy virgin and allegorical characters, with popular scenes, an effect perfectly consistent with the ideas of the audience was produced; for, according to the catholic doctrine, the miracles with which Christianity commenced are continued without intermission; through the mysteries of faith, the connection between the terrestrial, celestial and infernal worlds is declared; and by allegory that connection is rendered perceptible. The critic would therefore judge very unfairly, were he to regard as proofs of bad taste the consequences which a poet naturally entails on himself in writing according to the spirit of his religion. Making allowance, however, for that spirit, the rudeness of Gil Vicente’s Autos must be acknowledged even by him who measuring them by the rule of critical judgment, is perfectly disposed to view every system of religion only on its poetic side. For instance in one of the simplest of these Autos some shepherds who discourse in Spanish, enter a chapel, which is decorated with all the apparatus necessary for the celebration of the festival of Christmas. The shepherds cannot sufficiently express their rustic admiration of the pomp exhibited in the chapel. Faith (La Fè) enters as an allegorical character. She speaks Portuguese, and after announcing herself to the shepherds as true Faith, she explains to them the nature of faith, and enters into an historical relation of the mysteries of the incarnation.86 This is the whole subject of the piece. Another Auto in which the poet’s fancy has taken a wider range, presents scenes of a more varied nature. Mercury enters as an allegorical character, and as the representative of the planet which bears his name. He explains the theory of the planetary system and the Zodiac, and cites astronomical facts from Regiomontanus, in a long series of stanzas in the old national style. A Seraph then appears who is sent down from heaven by God in compliance with the prayers of Time. The Seraph, in the quality of a herald, proclaims a large yearly fair in honour of the Holy Virgin, and invites customers to it.87 A Devil next makes his appearance with a little stall which he carries before him. He gets into a dispute with Time and the Seraph, and asserts that among men such as they are, he shall be sure to find purchasers for his wares.88 He therefore leaves to every customer his free choice. Mercury then summons eternal Rome as the representative of the church. She appears, and offers for sale peace of mind, as the most precious of her merchandize. The Devil remonstrates; and Rome retires. Two Portuguese peasants now appear in the market. One is very anxious to sell his wife, and observes that if he cannot sell her, he will give her away for nothing, as she is a wicked spendthrift. Amidst this kind of conversation a party of peasant women enter, one of whom, with considerable comic warmth, vents bitter complaints against her husband.89 The man who has already been inveighing against his wife immediately recognizes her, and says:—“that is my slippery helpmate.”90 During this succession of comic scenes the action does not advance. The Devil at last opens his little stall and displays his stock of goods to the female peasants; but one of them who is the most pious of the party seems to suspect that all is not quite right with regard to the merchandize, and she exclaims: “Jesus! Jesus! True God and man!” The Devil immediately takes to flight, and does not re-appear; but the Seraph again comes forward and mingles with the rustic groupes. The throng continues to increase; other countrywomen with baskets on their heads arrive; and the market is stored with vegetables, poultry and other articles of rural produce. The Seraph offers virtues for sale; but they find no purchasers. The peasant girls observe that in their village money is more sought after than virtue, when a young man wants a wife. One of the party, however, says, that she wished to come to the market because it happened to fall on the festival of the mother of God; and because the Virgin does not sell her gifts of grace (as graças); but she distributes them gratis (de graça). This observation crowns the theological morality of the piece, which terminates with a hymn of praise, in the popular style, in honour of the Holy Virgin.