[Footnote 1: La Literatura Española en el Siglo XIX, Madrid, 1891, vol. II, p. 275.]
[Footnote 2: Correa, op. cit., p. xxx.]
The subtle charm of such legends as Los Ojos Verdes, La Corza Blanca, Maese Pérez el Organista, etc., full of local color as they are, and of an atmosphere of old Spain, is hard to describe, but none the less real. One is caught by the music of the prose at the first lines, enraptured by the weird charm of the story, and held in breathless interest until the last words die away. If Becquer's phrase is not always classic, it is, on the other hand, vigorous and picturesque; and when one reflects upon the difficult conditions under which his writings were produced, in the confusion of the printing-office, or hurriedly in a miserable attic to procure food for the immediate necessities of his little family, and when one likewise recalls the fact that they were published in final book form only after the author's death, and without retouching, the wonder grows that they are written in a style so pleasing and so free from harshness.
Becquer's prose is doubtless at its best in his letters entitled Desde mi Celda, written, as has been said, from the monastery of Veruela, in 1864. Read his description of his journey to the ancient Aragonese town of Tarazona, picturesquely situated on the River Queiles, of his mule trip over the glorious Moncayo, of the peacefulness and quiet of the old fortified monastery of Veruela, and you will surely feel inspired to follow him in his wanderings. Writing of his life in the seclusion of Veruela, Becquer says: "Every afternoon, as the sun is about to set, I sally forth upon the road that runs in front of the monastery doors to wait for the postman, who brings me the Madrid newspapers. In front of the archway that gives entrance to the first inclosure of the abbey stretches a long avenue of poplars so tall that when their branches are stirred by the evening breeze their summits touch and form an immense arch of verdure. On both sides of the road, leaping and tumbling with a pleasant murmur among the twisted roots of the trees, run two rivulets of crystalline transparent water, as cold as the blade of a sword and as gleaming as its edge. The ground, over which float the shadows of the poplars, mottled with restless spots of light, is covered at intervals with the thickest and finest of grass, in which grow so many white daisies that they look at first sight like that rain of petals with which the fruit-trees carpet the ground on warm April days. On the banks of the stream, amid the brambles and the reeds, grow wild violets, which, though well-nigh hidden amongst their creeping leaves, proclaim themselves afar by their penetrating perfume. And finally, also near the water and forming as it were a second boundary, can be seen between the poplar trunks a double row of stocky walnut-trees with dark, round, compact tops." About half way down the avenue stands a marble cross, which, from its color, is known in the vicinity as the Black Cross of Veruela. "Nothing is more somberly beautiful than this spot. At one end of the road the view is closed by the monastery, with its pointed arches, its peaked towers, and its imposing battlemented walls; on the other, the ruins of a little hermitage rise, at the foot of a hillock bestrewn with blooming thyme and rosemary. There, seated at the foot of the cross, and holding in my hands a book that I scarcely ever read and often leave forgotten on the steps of the cross, I linger for one, two, and sometimes even four hours waiting for the papers." At last the post arrives, and the Contemporáneo is in his hands. "As I was present at its birth, and as since its birth I have lived its feverish and impassioned life, El Contemporáneo is not for me a common newspaper like the rest, but its columns are yourselves, my friends, my companions in hope or disappointment, in failure or triumph, in joy or bitterness. The first impression that I feel upon receiving it, then, is one of joy, like that experienced upon opening a letter on whose envelope we recognize a dear familiar handwriting, or when in a foreign land we grasp the hand of a compatriot and hear our native tongue again. The peculiar odor of the damp paper and the printer's ink, that characteristic odor which for a moment obscures the perfume of the flowers that one breathes here on every hand, seems to strike the olfactory memory, a strange and keen memory that unquestionably exists, and it brings back to me a portion of my former life,—that restlessness, that activity, that feverish productiveness of journalism. I recall the constant pounding and creaking of the presses that multiply by thousands the words that we have just written, and that have come all palpitating from our pens. I recall the strain of the last hours of publication, when night is almost over and copy scarce. I recall, in short, those times when day has surprised us correcting an article or writing a last notice when we paid not the slightest attention to the poetic beauties of the dawn. In Madrid, and for us in particular, the sun neither rises nor sets: we put out or light the lights, and that is the only reason we notice it."
At last he opens the sheet. The news of the clubs or the Cortes absorbs him until the failing light of the setting sun warns him that, though he has read but the first columns, it is time to go. "The shadows of the mountains fall rapidly, and spread over the plain. The moon begins to appear in the east like a silver circle gleaming through the sky, and the avenue of poplars is wrapped in the uncertain dusk of twilight.... The monastery bell, the only one that still hangs in its ruined Byzantine tower, begins to call to prayers, and one near and one afar, some with sharp metallic notes, and some with solemn, muffled tones, the other bells of the hillside towns reply.... It seems like a harmony that falls from heaven and rises at the same time from the earth, becomes confounded, and floats in space, intermingling with the fading sounds of the dying day and the first sighs of the newborn night.
"And now all is silenced,—Madrid, political interests, ardent struggles, human miseries, passions, disappointments, desires, all is hushed in that divine music. My soul is now as serene as deep and silent water. A faith in something greater, in a future though unknown destiny, beyond this life, a faith in eternity,—in short, an all-absorbing larger aspiration, overwhelms that petty faith which we might term personal, that faith in the morrow, that sort of goad that spurs on irresolute minds, and that is so needful if one must struggle and exist and accomplish something in this world."[1]
[Footnote 1: Obras, vol. II, pp. 222–229.]
This graceful musing, full in the original of those rich harmonies that only the Spanish language can express, will serve sufficiently to give an impression of the series as a whole. The broad but fervent faith expressed in the last lines indicates a deeply religious and somewhat mystical nature. This characteristic of Becquer may be noticed frequently in his writings and no one who reads his works attentively can call him elitist, as have some of his calumniators.
Beautiful as Becquer's prose may be considered, however, the universal opinion is that his claim to lasting fame rests on his verse. Mrs. Humphrey Ward, in her interesting article entitled "A Spanish Romanticist,"[1] says of him: "His literary importance indeed is only now beginning to be understood. Of Gustavo Becquer we may almost say that in a generation of rhymers he alone was a poet; and now that his work is all that remains to us of his brilliant and lovable personality, he only, it seems to us, among the crowd of modern Spanish versifiers, has any claim to a European audience or any chance of living to posterity." This diatribe against the other poets of contemporary Spain may seem to us unjust; but certain it is that Becquer in the eyes of many surpasses either Nuñez de Arce or Campoamor, with whom he forms "a triumvirate that directs and condenses all the manifestations of contemporary Spanish lyrics."[2]
[Footnote 1: Macmillan's Magazine, February, 1883, p. 307.]
[Footnote 2: Blanco Garcia, op. cit., vol. II, p. 79.]
Becquer has none of the characteristics of the Andalusian. His lyrical genius is not only at odds with that of Southern Spain, but also with his own inclination for the plastic arts, says Blanco Garcia. "How could a Seville poet, a lover of pictorial and sculptural marvels, so withdraw from the outer form as to embrace the pure idea, with that melancholy subjectivism as common in the gloomy regions bathed by the Spree as it is unknown on the banks of the Darro and Guadalquivir?"[1] The answer to the problem must be found in his lineage.
[Footnote 1: Ibid., p. 80.]
In spite of the fascination early exercised by Julia Espin y Guillén over the young poet, it may be doubted if she can fairly be said to have been the muse of his Rimas. She doubtless inspired some of his verse; but the poet seems to sing the praises or lament the cruelty of various sweethearts. The late Don Juan Valera, who knew Gustavo well, goes so far as to say: "I venture to suspect that none of these women ever lived in the world which we all corporeally inhabit. When the mind of the poet descended to this world, he had to struggle with so much poverty, he saw himself engulfed and swallowed up by so many trials, and he was obliged to busy himself with such prosaic matters of mean and commonplace bread-winning, that he did not seek, nor would he have found had he sought them, those elegant and semi-divine women that made of him now a Romeo, now a Macías, now an Othello, and now a Pen-arch.... To enjoy or suffer really from such loves and to become ensnared therein with such rare women, Becquer lacked the time, opportunity, health, and money.... His desire for love, like the arrow of the Prince in one of the tales of the Arabian Nights, shot high over all the actual high-life and pierced the golden door of the enchanted palaces and gardens of the Fairy Paribanú, who, enraptured by him, took him for her spouse."[1] In fact Becquer, speaking of the unreality of the numerous offspring of his imagination, says in the Introduction to his works, written in June, 1868: "It costs me labor to determine what things I have dreamed and what things have happened to me. My affections are divided between the phantasms of my imagination and real personalities. My memory confuses the names and dates, of women and days that have died or passed away with the days and women that have never existed save in my mind."[2]
[Footnote 1: Florilegio de Poesías Castellanas del Siglo XIX, con introducción y notas, por Juan Valera. Madrid, 1902, vol. I, pp. 186–188.]
[Footnote 2: Obras, vol. I, p. L.]
Whatever may be one's opinion of the personality of the muse or muses of his verse, the love that Becquer celebrates is not the love of oriental song, "nor yet the brutal deification of woman represented in the songs of the Provençal Troubadours, nor even the love that inspired Herrera and Garcilaso. It is the fantastic love of the northern ballads, timid and reposeful, full of melancholy tenderness, that occupies itself in weeping and in seeking out itself rather than in pouring itself forth on external objects."[1] In this matter of lyrical subjectivism Becquer is unique, for it cannot be found in any other of the Spanish poets except such mystic writers as San Juan de la Cruz or Fray Luis de León.
[Footnote 1: Blanco Garcia, op. cit., p. 83.]
In one of Becquer's most beautiful writings in prose, in a Prológo to a collection of Cantares by Augusto Ferran y Forniés, our author describes two kinds of poetry that present themselves to one's choice: "There is a poetry which is magnificent and sonorous, the offspring of meditation and art, which adorns itself with all the pomp of language, moves along with a cadenced majesty, speaks to the imagination, perfects its images, and leads it at will through unknown paths, beguiling with its harmony and beauty." "There is another poetry, natural, rapid, terse, which springs from the soul as an electric spark, which strikes our feelings with a word, and flees away. Bare of artificiality, free within a free form, it awakens by the aid of one kindred idea the thousand others that sleep in the bottomless ocean of fancy. The first has an acknowledged value; it is the poetry of everybody. The second lacks any absolute standard of measurement; it takes the proportions of the imagination that it impresses; it may be called the poetry of poets."[1]
[Footnote 1: Obras, vol. III, pp. 112–113.]
In this description of the short, terse, and striking compositions of his friend Ferran, Becquer has written likewise the apology for his own verse. His was a poetry of "rapid, elemental impressions." He strikes but one chord at a time on his lyre, but he leaves you thrilled. This extreme simplicity and naturalness of expression may be well illustrated by the refrain of the seventy-third poem:
¡Dios mío, qué solos
Se quedan los muertos!
His poetry has often been compared to that of Heine, whom he is said to have imitated. Becquer did not in fact read German; but in El Museo Universal, for which he was a collaborator, and in which he published his Rimas, there appeared one of the first versions of the Intermezzo,[1] and it is not unlikely that in imitation of the Intermezzo he was led to string his Rimas like beads upon the connecting thread of a common autobiographical theme. In the seventy-six short poems that compose his Rimas, Becquer tells "a swiftly-moving, passionate story of youth, love, treachery, despair, and final submission." "The introductory poems are meant to represent a stage of absorption in the beauty and complexity of the natural world, during which the poet, conscious of his own high, incommunicable gift, by which he sees into the life of things, is conscious of an aimless fever and restlessness which is forever turning delight into weariness."[2]
[Footnote 1: Blanco Garcia, op. cit., p. 86.]
[Footnote 2: Mrs. Ward, loc. cit., p. 316.]
Some of these poems are extremely beautiful, particularly the tenth. They form a sort of prelude to the love-story itself, which begins in our selections with the thirteenth. Not finding the realization of his ideal in art, the poet turns to love. This passion reaches its culminating point in the twenty-ninth selection, and with the thirtieth misunderstanding, dissatisfaction, and sadness begin. Despair assails him, interrupted with occasional notes of melancholy resignation, such as are so exquisitely expressed in the fifty-third poem, the best-known of all the poet's verse. With this poem the love-story proper comes to a close, and "the melancholy, no doubt more than half imaginary and poetical, of his love poems seems to broaden out into a deeper sadness embracing life as a whole, and in which disappointed passion is but one of the many elements."[1] "And, lastly, regret and passion are alike hushed in the presence of that voiceless love which shines on the face of the dead and before the eternal and tranquil slumber of the grave."[2]
[Footnote 1: Mrs. Ward, loc. cit., p.319.]
[Footnote 2: Ibid., p. 316.]
Whatever Becquer may have owed to Heine, in form or substance, he was no servile imitator. In fact, with the exception of the thirtieth, no one of his Rimas seems to be inspired directly by Heine's Intermezzo. The distinguishing note in Heine's verse is sarcasm, while that of Becquer's is pathos. Heine is the greater poet, Becquer, the profounder artist. As Blanco Garcia well points out,[1] the moral inclinations of the two poets were distinct and different also. Becquer's instinct for the supernatural freed him from Heine's skepticism and irreligion; and, though he had suffered much, he never doubted Providence.
[Footnote 1: op. cit., p.86.]
The influence of Alfred de Musset may be felt also in Becquer's Rimas, particularly in the forty-second and forty-third; but in general, the Spanish poet is "less worldly and less ardent"[1] than the French.
[Footnote 1: Corm, op. cit., p. xl.]
The Rimas are written for the most part in assonanced verse. A harmonious rhythm seems to be substituted for the music of the rhyme. The meter, too, is very freely handled. Notwithstanding all this, the melody of Becquer's verse is very sweet, and soon catches and charms even the foreign ear. His Rimas created a school like that inspired by the Doloras of Campoamor. But the extreme simplicity and naturalness of Becquer's expression was difficult to reproduce without falling into the commonplace, and his imitators have for the most part failed.
AN UNPUBLISHED LETTER OF THE POET BECQUER, ONE OF THE FEW THAT HAVE SURVIVED HIM, ADDRESSED TO SOR. C. FRANCO DE LA IGLESIAS, MINISTERIO DE ULTRAMAR, MADRID. DATED IN TOLEDO, JULY 18TH, 1869.[1]
[Footnote 1: The accentuation and punctuation of the original are preserved. This letter is of particular interest, showing, as it does, the tender solicitude of Becquer for his children, his dire financial straits when a loan of three or four dollars is a godsend, and his hesitation to call upon friends for aid even when in such difficulties. The letter was presented to the writer of this sketch by Don Francisco de Laiglesia, a distinguished Spanish writer and man of public life and an intimate friend of Becquer. Señor de Laiglesia is the owner of the magnificent portrait of Gustavo by Valeriano Becquer, of the beauty of which but a faint idea can be had from the copy of the etching by Maura, which serves as a frontispiece to the present volume. ]
Mi muy querido amigo:
Me volvi de esa con el cuidado de los chicos y en efecto parecia anunciarmelo apenas llegue cayó en cama el mas pequeño. Esto se prolonga mas de lo que pensamos y he escrito á Gaspar y á Valera que solo pagó la mitad del importe del cuadro Gaspar he sabido que salio ayer para Aguas Buenas y tardará en recibir mi carta Valera espero enviará ese pico pero suele gastar una calma desesperante en este apuro recurro una vez mas á vd. y aunque me duele abusar tanto de su amistad le ruego que si es posible me envie tres ó cuatro duros para esperar el envio del dinero que aguardamos el cual es seguro pero no sabemos que dia vendrá y aqui tenemos al medico en casa y atenciones que no esperan un momento.
Adios estoy aburrido de ver que esto nunca cesa. Adios mande vd. á su amigo que le quiere
Gustavo Becquer
Espresiones á Pepe Marco S/c Calle de San Ildefonso Toledo. Si le es á vd. posible enviar eso hagalo si puede en el mismo dia que reciba esta carta por que el apuro es de momento.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
A list of the works consulted in the preparation of the sketch of Becquer's life.
WORKS BY BECQUER
Obras de Gustavo A. Becquer. Quinta edición aumentada con varias poesías y leyendas. Madrid, Librería de Fernando Fé, 1898. Three volumes.
Historia de los Templos de España, publicada bajo la protección de SS. MM. AA. y muy reverendos señores arzobispos y obispos—dirigida por D. Juan de la Puerto Vizcaino y D. Gustavo Adolfo Becquer. Tomo I, Madrid, 1857. Imprenta y Estereotipia Española de los Señores Nieto y Campañía. Becquer is the author of only a portion of this work—see Introduction, p. xx.
La Ilustración de Madrid, January 12-October 12, 1870, contains a large number of articles by Becquer that have never been published in book form. The same can be said of other periodicals for which Becquer collaborated.
TRANSLATIONS
Gustave Becquer—Légendes espagnoles. Traduction de Achille Fouquier, dessins de S. Arcos. Paris, Librairie de Firmin-Didot et Cie, 1885. French.
Terrible Tales—Spanish. W. W. Gibbings, London, W. C. In this collection the following seven out of the twelve tales that it contains are by Becquer,—"The Golden Bracelet," "The Green Eyes," "The Passion Flower," "The White Doe," "Maese Pérez, the Organist," "The Moonbeam," and "The Mountain of Spirits." The translation is often inaccurate.
WORKS OR ARTICLES ON BECQUER
P. Francisco Blanco Garcia. La Literatura Española en el Siglo XIX, parte segunda, Madrid, 1891, contains a good criticism of the literary work of Becquer, pp. 79–91, and pp. 274–277.
Narciso Campillo. Gustavo Adolfo Becquer is the title of an excellent article on the Seville poet, by one who knew him well, in La Ilustración Artística, Barcelona, December 27, 1886, pp. 358–360. This number (261—Año V) is dedicated to Becquer, and contains many prose articles and much verse relative to him.
Achille Fouquier. Gustave Becquer, Légendes Espagnoles. Traduction de Achille Fouquier, dessins de S. Arcos. Paris, Firmin-Didot et Cie, 1885,—Avant-Propos, pp. 1–19. An interesting sketch of Becquer's life and an excellent appreciation of his style.
José Gestoso y Pérez. Carta á Mr. Achille Fouquier is the title of a valuable article in La Ilustración Artistica, Barcelona, December 27, 1886, pp. 363–366. This article contains important genealogical matter regarding Becquer, which had not until that time been published.
Eduardo de Lustono. Becquer is the titie of a sketch by this writer, published in Alrededor del Mundo, No. 109, July 4, 1901, pp. 11–13, and No. 110, July 11, 1901, pp. 22–23. It is largely a copy of the article by Narciso Campillo, mentioned above, and of the following by Rodriguez Correa.
Ramón Rodriguez Correa. Prólogo de las Obras de Gustavo A. Becquer. Quinta edición, Madrid, Fernando Fé, 1898. Vol. I, pp. IX-XLV. This is the principal biography of Becquer and the source of all the others. Its author was Becquer's most intimate friend.
Juan Valera. In Florilegio de Poesías Castellanas del Siglo XIX, Tomo I, Madrid, Fernando Fé, 1902, pp. 182–191, may be found an excellent appreciation of the poet by one of the most capable of Spanish critics and a personal friend of Becquer.
P. Restituto del Valle Ruiz, Agustino. In his Estudios Literarios, pp. 104–116, there is a chapter devoted to Gustavo A. Becquer, which contains an interesting critique of his poetry.
Mrs. (Mary A.) Humphrey Ward, in Macmillan's Magazine, No. 280, February, 1883, pp. 305–320, has an article entitled "A Spanish Romanticist: Gustavo Becquer." This is one of the best articles on Becquer that have been published.
SPANISH PROSODY
The basis for the following remarks on Spanish prosody is, for the most part, E. Benot's Prosodia Castellana y Versification, 3 vols., Madrid, 1892. Other works which have been consulted are the Ortologia y Arte Metrica of A. Bello, published in his Obras Completas, vol. 4, Madrid, 1890; Rengifo's Arte Poètica Española, Barcelona, 1759; J. D. M. Ford's "Notes on Spanish Prosody," in A Spanish Anthology, published by Silver, Burdett & Co., 1901; and a Tratado de Literatura Preceptiva, by D. Saturnino Milego é Inglada, published at Toledo in 1887.
Spanish versification has nothing to do with the quantity of vowels (whether long or short), which was the basis of Latin prosody.
There are four important elements in Spanish versification. Of these four elements two are essential, and the other two are usually present.
The essential elements, without which Spanish verse cannot exist, are—
I. A determined number of syllables per line.
II. A rhythmic distribution of the accents in the line.
The additional elements usually present in Spanish poetical compositions are—
III. Caesural pauses.
IV. Rhyme.
I. SYLLABIFICATION
Consonants.—In verse the same rules hold as in prose for the distribution of consonants in syllables.
Vowels.—If there were but one vowel in a syllable, Spanish syllabification would be easy; but sometimes two or more vowels are found either between consonants, or at the beginning or at the end of a word. When such is the case, intricacies arise, for sometimes the contiguous vowels are pronounced in a single syllable and sometimes they are divided into separate syllables.
The contiguous vowels may belong to a single word (see A); or they may be the final vowel or vowels of one word and the initial vowel or vowels of a following word or words (see B).
A. Diphthongization,—If two contiguous vowels of a single word are pronounced in but one syllable they form a diphthong, e.g. hu^esped.
B. Synalepha.—If two or more contiguous vowels belonging to two or more words are pronounced in a single syllable, they form synalepha.
Ex. Yo sé^un himno gigante y^extraño, p. 164, I, l. 1.
Since Spanish verse depends upon a determined number of syllables per line, diphthongization and synalepha are important factors in versification.
A. DIPHTHONGIZATION
Mute h between vowels is disregarded and does not prevent diphthongization, e.g. a^h^ora, re^h^usar.
The separation of two vowels that are usually united in one syllable is called diaeresis, e.g. vi|oleta.
The union in one syllable of two vowels that are usually in separate syllables is called synaeresis, e.g. ca^os.
1. THE TWENTY-FIVE POSSIBLE COMBINATIONS OP VOWELS IN DIPHTHONGS
The vowels may be divided into strong vowels (a, e, o) and weak vowels (i, u). For purposes of versification y as a vowel may be treated as i. The five vowels (a, e, o, i, u) taken in pairs may form diphthongs in twenty-five possible combinations, as follows:
a. Pairs of two weak vowels: ui, iu, ii, uu.
b. Pairs of two strong vowels:
{ ae, ao, aa,
{ ea, eo, ee,
{ oa, oe, oo.
c. Pairs of a strong vowel plus a weak vowel
{ ai, au,
{ ei, eu,
{ oi, ou.
d. Pairs of a weak vowel plus a strong vowel
{ ua, ue, uo,
{ ia, ie, io.
NOTE: In diphthongs a dominates o and e; and o dominates e. Any strong vowel dominates a weak one.
Ex. In Bo^abdíl, if a were not dominant, the diphthong would be dissolved.
2. DIPHTHONGS AND WORD ACCENTUATION
There are with regard to accent three possible conditions under which two contiguous vowels may occur within a word.
a. The contiguous vowels may precede the accented syllable.
b. One of the contiguous vowels may be accented.
c. The contiguous vowels may come after the accented syllable.
a. Two contiguous vowels before the accent.
(1) Of the twenty-five possible combinations all are admissible in diphthongs in a syllable preceding the accented syllable.
Ex. Habrá po^esta, p. 165, IV, l. 4.
(a) Diaeresis may be employed to dissolve the diphthong.
Ex. Sobre una vi|oleta, p. 169, XIII, l. 8.
b. One of two contiguous vowels accented.
(1) When two contiguous vowel's are strong.
(a) There is no diphthong if one of two contiguous strong vowels receives the accent.
Ex. Chispë|ando el sol hiere, p. 173, XXVI I, l. 17.
Ex. Tú, sombra a|érea que, cuantas veces, p. 170, XV, l. 7.
By synaeresis, however, a diphthong may be formed, especially in the combinations á^o, á^e, ó^e—c^a^o^s, c^a^e, ro^e. But in order to diphthongize oa, ea, and eo, when the accent naturally falls on the first vowel, the accent must shift to the second, which is a dominant vowel. Such diphthongization is harsh. For example, loa would shift the accent from o to a in order to form a diphthong. The accent would also shift in cre^a, fe^o.
(2) When one of the contiguous vowels is weak and the other strong.
(a) There is no diphthong if an accented weak vowel precedes a strong.
Ex. Yo, que á tus ojos en mi agoní|a, p. 171, XV, l. 18. Synaeresis is, however, sometimes employed to overcome this rule. The accent must then shift.
Ex. Habi^a llegado una nave. Calderón.
(b) There is no diphthong if an accented weak vowel follows a strong.
Ex. ¿Cómo puede re|ir? p. 182, XLIX, l. 4.
Synaeresis serves sometimes to overcome this rule. The result is usually harsh.
Ex. En re^ir á costa ajena, les prepara.
(c) If an accented strong vowel precedes a weak, they form a diphthong. The diphthong is rarely dissolved, and is usually marked with a diaresis, if dissolution takes place.
Ex. Beso del aura, onda de luz, p. 170, XV, l. 5.
(d) If an accented strong vowel follows a weak they may or may not form a diphthong.
Ex. Por una sonrisa, un ci^elo, p. 172, XXIII, l. 2. [Diphthong.]
Ex. Domando el rebelde, mezquino idï|oma, p. 164, I, l. 6. [No diphthong.]
Diaeresis or synaeresis may usually be employed according to the case.
Thus, fiel becomes by diaeresis fi|el, and br|ioso becomes by synaeresis bri^oso.
It should be remembered that in some words the accentuation is variable, while in others it is fixed.
There are two classes of words that have a variable accentuation: first, those in which an unaccented weak vowel is followed by an accented strong vowel, e.g. majestu^oso, majestu|oso; second, those in which an accented strong vowel is followed by an unaccented strong vowel, e.g. tra|e, tra^e.
Ex. Cre^es que la afe|an. Becquer.
Cre|es que suspirando pasa el viento, p. 171, XVI, l. 3.
Etymological conditions often determine whether or not a diphthong is formed.
ie and ue, derived from the Latin e and o respectively, form indissoluble diphthongs.
The ending -ión for substantives is usually a diphthong and rarely suffers dissolution.
Synaeresis may be employed to unite in a single syllable two contiguous vowels (unaccented weak + accented strong) that are separated on account of etymology, or, in the case of derivatives, analogy with the original word; but diaeresis is employed very rarely to dissolve a proper diphthongal combination (unaccented weak + accented strong).
For example, di|ario by analogy with día, and fi|ó from the Latin fidavit, have ordinarily the i in separate syllables, but a diphthong may be formed by synaeresis.
(3) When the two contiguous vowels are weak.
(a) Two contiguous weak vowels with the accent on the first form an indissoluble diphthong, e.g. mu^y.
(b) Two contiguous weak vowels with the accent on the second may or may not form a diphthong.
Ex. Si antes no juras que por ru^in falsía. Hermosilla. [Diphthong.]
Ex. Con sus mil rü|idos, p. 188, LXXIII, l. 19, [No diphthong.]
c. Two contiguous vowels after the accented syllable.
(1) Two contiguous strong vowels after the accented syllable naturally form a diphthong.
Ex. Tú, sombra aére^a que, cuantas veces, p. 170, XV, l. 7.
Diaeresis may be employed to dissolve the diphthong.
(2) If a strong vowel is followed by a weak vowel after the accented syllable, they form a diphthong, e.g. hablaba^is, amara^is.
This diphthong is easily dissolved.
(3) If a weak vowel is followed by a strong vowel after the accented syllable, they form a diphthong, e.g. histor^i^a, ans^i^a.
Ex. De la brisa nocturna al tenu^e soplo, p. 192, LXXV, l. 6.
The diphthong may, however, be dissolved, e.g. estatu|a, tenu|e, nadi|e.
3. TRIPHTHONGS AND COMBINATIONS OP THREE OR MORE CONTIGUOUS VOWELS
If three vowels belonging to the same word are contiguous, one of them must be accented. There are then three possible arrangements.
(i) Three contiguous vowels of a word with the accent on the first, e.g. tráeos.
(ii) Three contiguous vowels of a word with the accent on the second, e.g. creia, buey.
(iii) Three contiguous vowels with the accent on the third, e.g. rehuí.
Each of the above arrangements has two combinations of accented and unaccented vowels to which the rules for diphthongs may be applied. In (i) there will be a combination of two vowels with the first accented, plus a combination of two vowels after the accent. In tráeos, for example, the a and e would probably be in separate syllables by b (1) (a), and eo would probably form a diphthong by c (1). Tráeos would, then, probably be a dissyllable.
In (ii) there will be a combination of two vowels with the accent an the second, and one of two vowels with the accent on the first. In creia, for example, the e and í would be in separate syllables by b (2) (b), and the í and a would probably be in separate syllables also by b (2)(a). Therefore, creia would probably be a trisyllable. In cambiáos the i and á might form one syllable or two by b (2) (d), and the á and o would probably be in separate syllables by b (1) (a). Therefore, in cambiáos the combination iáo might form a dissyllable or a trisyllable.
In (iii) there will be a combination of two vowels before the accent, and one of two vowels with the second accented. In rehuí, for example, the e and u might be in the same syllable by a (1), or in separate syllables by dieresis by a (1) (a), and the u and í might be in separate syllables or not by b (3) (b). Therefore, rehuí might be a monosyllable, a dissyllable, or a trisyllable.
Other combinations of three vowels may be analyzed in a similar way, as may also combinations of more than three vowels, e.g. creíais, etc.
B. SYNALEPHA
Between the contiguous vowels of separate words there may occur synalepha (which corresponds to diphthongization within a word), or hiatus (which is similar to diaeresis within a word).
Ex. Abre^una^eternidad, p. 178, XXXVI I, l. 22. ¿Á qué me lo decís? lo sé^:^es mudable, p. 179, XXXIX, l. 1. [Synalepha.]
Ex. Como la onda^azul, en cuya cresta, p. 173, XXVII, l. 16. [Hiatus.]
The vowels contracted by synalepha are each pronounced, except when the same vowel is repeated, when only a prolonged sound is heard, as in onda^azul or sé^es above.
Synalepha may join into a single syllable two, three, four, and even five vowels. The union of two vowels (diphthongal synalepha) and the union of three vowels (triphthongal synalepha) are the most common.
A pause due to a break in sense does not prevent synalepha. Mute h is disregarded in the verse and does not prevent synalepha.
Ex. Capaz de encerrarlo, y apénas ¡oh^hermosa! p. 164, I, l. 10.
DIPHTHONGAL SYNALEPHA
Synalepha takes place between two contiguous unaccented vowels belonging to separate words.
Ex. Abre^una^eternidad, p. 178, XXXVII, l. 22.Synalepha occurs when the final vowel of the first word is accented.
Ex. Te ví^un punto, y, flotando ante mis ojos, p. 169, XIV, l. 1.Synalepha usually occurs when the initial vowel of the second word is accented, especially when the first word ends in a weak vowel, and also in the combinations aá, oá, oa, eá, eó, eé.
Ex. Me parece^en el cielo de la tarde, p. 169, XIII, l. 11.
NOTE: Synalepha is possible with the other combinations, but hiatus is preferable even with the above combinations, in a syllable on which the rhythmical accent falls (see under Rhythmic Accent).
Ex. Despierta, hablas, y al hablar, vibrantes, p. 174, XXVII, l. 23.Ex. Como la ola que á la playa viene, p. 178, XXXVII, l. 19.TRIPHTHONGAL SYNALEPHA
There is always triphthongal synalepha when a is the middle vowel; or when o or e is the middle vowel, except in the following combinations, aoa, aoo, ooo, aea, aeo, oea, oeo.
Ex. Silenciosa á expirar, p. 178, XXXVII, l. 20.There is never triphthongal synalepha when an accented weak vowel stands between two strong vowels. Therefore the conjunctions y and ú prevent triphthongal synalepha.
Ex. Y de purpura y oro la matiza, p. 168, IX, l. 4.There may be triphthongal synalepha when í (y) is the middle vowel, if u precedes it, or i follows it.
Ex. Fuí diestro, fuí valiente, fuí arrogante. Cervantes.When u is the middle vowel there may be synalepha if i follows it. The construction is very rare.
There is no synalepha with a word beginning with hue.
Ex. Mucho nuestro huesped tarda. Tirso de Molina.In the following cases the groups of vowels which would usually make triphthongal synalepha are pronounced in two syllables:
(1) When the first word of the group ends in two vowels which do not form a diphthong.
Ex. Que aún tení|a^abiertos, p. 187, LXXIII, l. 2.(2) When the two initial vowels of the second word do not form a diphthong.
Ex. Tú, sombra^a|érea que, cuantas veces, p. 170, XV, l. 7.(3) When the first word ends in a diphthong and the second begins with a vowel in a constituent syllable (i.e. a syllable on which the rhythmical accent falls).
Ex. Tan gran designio honra tus audacias.If the accented vowel is not in a constituent syllable synalepha may occur.
Ex. Mientras la cencia á descubrir no alcance, p. 165, IV, l. 13.(4) When the first word ends in a single vowel, and the second word begins with a diphthong in a constituent syllable.
Ex. Tú, proceloso austro que derribas.(3) and (4) might well be considered as cases of hiatus.
SYNALEPHA BETWEEN FOUR OR MORE VOWELS
This is less common, yet it exists.
Ex. No^h^a^y^amor donde no hay celos. Lope de Vega.HIATUS
Hiatus is most frequently found between words having a close syntactical relation, particularly if the initial vowel of the second word is in a constituent syllable. It may occur between the article and its substantive, the possessive adjective and its substantive, a preposition and its object, the negatives no and ni and a following vowel; and after the conjunctions y, que, si, and other words having a weak accent such as desde, coma, todo, otro, cuando, etc.
Hiatus is most likely to occur when the accented vowel is the initial vowel of the final word in a phrase or verse, or of a word that has a strongly accented position in the verse; as, for example, when the syllable is the next to the last syllable in a verse, or is the fourth or eighth syllable of a hendecasyllabic verse of the second class.
Ex. Rumor de besos y batir de alas, p. 168, X, l. 6.Ex. Como la ola que á la playa viene, p. 178, XXXVII, l. 19.In the above-mentioned case, the phrase de^oro is usually joined by synalepha.
Ex. Mi frente es pálida, mis trenzas de^oro. Becquer.Hiatus is, however, sometimes observed in this phrase.
Ex. De plumas y de oro, p. 180, XL, l. 28.When both vowels are accented hiatus is more common than synalepha, even though there is no close syntactical relation, although the vowels may be joined by synalepha if they do not come in a constituent syllable.
Ex. ¡Oh yá isla católica patente! Herrera. [Hiatus.]Ex. ¿Sabes tú^á dónde va? p. 178, XXXVIII, l. 4. [Synalepha.]
II. RHYTHMIC ACCENT
The second essential element of Spanish verse is a rhythmic distribution of accents within a line. Words have an accent of their own and another stronger accent on account of their position in a verse.
This extraordinary accentual stress, which strengthens periodically certain naturally accented syllables of a verse, is known as rhythmic accent. It plays somewhat the same rôle as did quantity in Latin verse. All other accents and pauses in the verse are subservient to the rhythmic accent.
Spanish verse being accentual, however, and not quantitative, the terms used to determine the regular recurrence of long and short syllables in Latin verse are not very applicable to it, and few compositions are regular in the arrangement of the stress.
A. LATIN TERMS OF VERSIFICATION APPLIED TO SPANISH VERSE
As Latin terms of versification are sometimes applied to Spanish verse, the following rules may be helpful.
A trochaic octosyllabic line, for example, substituting stress for quantity, would be scanned
/ — | / — | / — | / —,with the stress on the first, third, fifth, and seventh syllables.
Iambic verse would have a regular alternation of unaccented and accented syllables, — / — /, etc.
Dactylic verse would have a regular recurrence of an accented syllable followed by two unaccented syllables, etc.
/ — — | / — — |, etc.Amphibrachic verse would be formed by a regular recurrence of three syllables of which the middle one would be stressed, — / —. This construction is sometimes followed in lines of twelve syllables (p. 164, I, 1. 2), and also in lines of six syllables (p. 167, VII, 1.-4).
Anapestic verse consists of a regular recurrence of two unstressed syllables preceding a stressed syllable, — — /. This is sometimes found in ten-syllable lines (p. 164, I, 1. i).
B. SPANISH VERSE ENDINGS
An accented word is called aguda when it has the accent on the last syllable, e.g. verdad, luz, yo; llana (or grave) when it has the accent on the penult, e.g. trabajo, fruto; esdrújula when it has the accent on the antepenult, e.g. límpido, pájaro, pórtico.
A verse is called agudo, llano (or grave), or esdrújulo according to whether its final word is aguda, llana (or grave), or esdrújula.
In a verso agudo the last syllable counts for two syllables. Therefore, Ni tu ni yo jamás, p. 177, XXXIII, l. 2, is a heptasyllable.
In a verso llano (grave) the number of syllables does not change. Therefore, Detrás del abanico, p. 180, XL, l. 27, is a heptasyllable.
In a verso esdrújulo, the intermediate syllable between the accented syllable and the final syllable does not count, either in enumerating the syllables in the verse or for the rhyme (assonance). Therefore, Umbrales de su pórtico, p. 180, XL, l. 32, is a heptasyllable.
C. THE DISTRIBUTION OF RHYTHMIC ACCENTS
In verses of different length there are different rules with regard to the distribution of accents, but the following general rules should be observed.