APPENDIX.
[I.] Page 15.
PRAISE OF LITTLE WOMEN.
I wish to make my preaching short, as all good things should be,
For I was always fond, I own, of a short homily;
Of little women, and in courts of law a most brief plea;
Little well said makes wise, as sap most fructifies the tree.
His head who laughs and chatters much, the moon I'm sure must sway,
There's in a little woman love—nor little, let me say;
Some very tall there are, but I prefer the little,—nay,
Change them, they'd both repent the change, and quarrel night and day.
Love prayed me to speak well of all the little ones—the zest
They give, their noble qualities, and charms:—I'll do my best;
I will speak of the little ones, but don't think I'm in jest;
That they are cold as snow, and warm as fire, is manifest.
They're cold abroad, yet warm in love; shy creatures in the street;
Good-natured, laughing, witty, gay, and in the house discreet,—
Well-doing, graceful, gentle, kind, and many things more sweet
You'll find where you direct your thoughts,—yes, many I repeat.
Within a little compass oft great splendour strikes the eyes,
In a small piece of sugar-cane a deal of sweetness lies;
So to a little woman's face a thousand graces rise,
And large and sweet's her love; a word's sufficient for the wise.
The pepper-corn is small, but yet, the more the grain you grind,
The more it warms and comforts; so, were I to speak my mind,
A little woman, if (all love) she studies to be kind,
There's not in all the world a bliss you'll fail in her to find.
As in a little rose resides great colour, as the bell
Of the small lily yields a great and most delightful smell,
As in a very little gold exists a precious spell,
Within a little woman so exceeding flavours dwell.
As the small ruby is a gem that clearly does outshine
For lustre, colour, virtues, price, most children of the mine,
In little women so worth, grace, bloom, radiancy divine,
Wit, beauty, loyalty, and love, transcendently combine.
Little's the lark, the nightingale is little, yet they sing
Sweeter than birds of greater size and more resplendent wing;
So little women better are, by the same rule,—they bring
A love more sweet than sugar-plums or primroses of spring.
The goldfinch and Canary-bird, all finches and all pies,
Sing, scream, or chatter passing well—there's quaintness in their cries;
The brilliant little paroquet says things extremely wise;
Just such a little woman is, when she sweet love outsighs.
There's nothing that with her should be compared—'tis profanation;—
She is a walking Paradise, a smiling consolation,
A blessing, pleasure, of all joys a sparkling constellation,
In fact—she's better in the proof than in the salutation!
Small women do no harm, kind things, though they may sometimes call
Us angry names, hard to digest; men wise as was Saint Paul
Say, of two evils choose the least,—by this rule it must fall,
The least dear woman you can find will be the best of all!
[II.] Page 36.
THE PROPHECY OF TAGUS.
1.
As by Tagus' billowy bed
King Rodrigo, safe from sight,
With the Lady Cava fed
On the fruit of loose delight;
From the river's placid breast
Slow its ancient Genius broke;
Of the scrolls of Fate possessed,
Thus the frowning prophet spoke:
2.
"In an evil hour dost thou,
Ruthless spoiler, wanton here!
Shouts and clangours even now,
Even now assail mine ear;
Shout, and sound of clashing shield,
Shivered sword and rushing car,—
All the frenzy of the field!
All the anarchy of war!
3.
Oh what wail and weeping spring
Forth from this, thine hour of mirth,
From yon fair and smiling thing,
Who in evil day had birth!
In an evil day for Spain
Plighted is your guilty troth!
Fatal triumph! costly gain
To the sceptre of the Goth!
4.
Flames and furies, griefs and broils,
Slaughter, ravage, fierce alarms,
Anguish and immortal toils
Thou dost gather to thine arms,—
For thyself and vassals—those
Who the fertile furrow break,
Where the stately Ebro flows,
Who their thirst in Douro slake!
5.
For the throne—the hall—the bower—
Murcian lord and Lusian swain,
For the chivalry and flower
Of all sad and spacious Spain!
Prompt for vengeance, not for fame,
Even now from Cadiz' halls,
On the Moor, in Allah's name,
Hoarse the Count—the Injured calls.
6.
Hark, how frightfully forlorn
Sounds his trumpet to the stars,
Citing Afric's desert-born
To the gonfalon of Mars!
Lo, already loose in air
Floats the standard, peals the gong;
They shall not be slow to dare
Roderick's wrath for Julian's wrong.
7.
See, their spears the Arabs shake,
Smite the wind, and war demand;
Millions in a moment wake,
Join, and swarm o'er all the sand:
Underneath their sails the sea
Disappears, a hubbub runs
Through the sphere of heaven alee,
Clouds of dust obscure the sun's.
8.
Swift their mighty ships they climb,
Cut the cables, slip from shore;
How their sturdy arms keep time
To the dashing of the oar!
Bright the frothy billows burn
Round their cleaving keels, and gales
Breathed by Eolus astern,
Fill their deep and daring sails.
9.
Sheer across Alcides' strait
He whose voice the floods obey,
With the trident of his state,
Gives the grand Armada way.—
In her sweet, subduing arms,
Sinner! dost thou slumber still,
Dull and deaf to the alarms
Of this loud inrushing ill?
10.
In the hallowed Gadite bay
Mark them mooring from the main;
Rise, take horse, away! away!
Scale the mountain, scour the plain!
Give not pity to thy hand,
Give not pardon to thy spur,
Dart abroad thy flashing brand,
Bare thy fatal scimeter!
11.
Agony of toil and sweat
The sole recompense must be
Of each horse and horseman yet,
Plumeless serf and plumed grandee.
Sullied in thy silver flow,
Stream of proud Sevilla, weep!
Many a broken helm shalt thou
Hurry to the bordering deep.
12.
Many a turban and tiar,
Moor and Noble's slaughtered corse,
Whilst the Furies of the war
Gore your ranks with equal loss!
Five days you dispute the field;
When 'tis sunrise on the plains—
Oh loved land! thy doom is sealed,
Madden, madden in thy chains!"
[III.] Page 101.
"The king fortified his camp according to the rules of art, and in a single night a town was built, consisting of four streets in the form of a cross, with as many gates; and from the centre, where the streets crossed each other, all the town might be viewed at the same time. The plan was undertaken and completed by four Grandees of Castile, every one furnishing his share, and the whole was encircled with wooden bulwarks covered with waxen cloth, which resembled a strong wall. Towers and bastions were also fabricated, to appear as if built by regular machinery. In the morning, the Moors were prodigiously astonished to see a town so near Granada, fortified in so formidable a manner. When it was finished, the king granted it the rights of a city, naming it Santa Fé, and endowed it with many privileges, which it enjoys to the present day. It is recorded in the next ballad:—
Built is Santa Fé; its bulwarks
With much waxen cloth o'erlaid,
And within shine tents unnumbered,
Tents of silk and gold brocade.
Dukes, and lords, and noble captains,
Famed for valour, heroes all,
Here are brought by King Fernando,
To effect Granada's fall.
When, behold, a Moor at daybreak,
Of tall stature meets their sight,
Mounted on a noble charger,
Spotted o'er with flakes of white.
On it comes with cleft lips chafing
High against the rider's rein,
Whilst the Moor at all the Christians
Grinds his teeth in fell disdain.
Underneath his robes of scarlet,
White, and blue, a shirt of mail
Fortifies his heart most strongly,
Should a thousand darts assail.
Two strong swords of tempered metal
Grace his thigh, his hands a spear
And tough target in Morocco
Made, and purchased passing dear.
This gruff dog, in dreadful mockery,
To his horse's tail had tied
The adored Ave Maria,
As was but too soon descried.
At the camp arrived, he shouted,
"Who will so fool-hardy be
As to fight me? I defy you
All,—come one, come two, come three!"
Out the Alcayde of Los Doncelos,
Out the Count of Cabra stept,
Both brave men, whose active falchions
In the scabbard seldom slept.
Out came Gónzalo Fernandez,
Out Martin Galindo came,
With the bold Portocarrero,
Palma's lord of mickle fame.
Out he stept too who so frankly
Fetched the glove midst lions thrown,
Frankly fetched it forth, the gallant
Manuel Ponce de Leon.
With them ev'n King Don Fernando
Rides, exclaiming, "Forward, ho!
Soon we'll teach the ruffian whether
We dare fight with him or no!"
On they rode, rejoiced to hear him
Praise his vassals so, and each
Begged that he that useful lesson
To the infidel might teach.
Garcilasso too, a stripling
Brave and daring, with great glee
Rode with them, and begged the battle,
Begged it on his bended knee.
"You're too young, good Garcilasso,
You're yet much too young to die;
There are numbers in my kingdom
Fitter far the fight to try."
Deeply vexed at this refusal,
Much confused the youth withdrew,
But put on strange arms in secret,
So that none his person knew.
On a coal-black steed, with ventail
Down, he pricks to meet the Moor,
And says to him—"Level lances
Quickly; thou shalt see, be sure,
"If our noble king has gentles
Bold enough to tilt with thee;
I'm the least of all, yet beard thee,
Beard thee by that king's decree."
Soon as seen, the bluff Moor scorned him,
Saying, "Pray go back again;
I'm accustomed to do battle,
Not with boys, but bearded men:
"Pray go back, and let some other
Who has passed his teens, advance!"
Garcilasso, stung with fury,
Spurred his steed, and couched his lance.
He a glorious stroke has dealt him!
On his helm red sparkles burn;
Like a thunderbolt the Paynim
Wheels, the insult to return.
Striking, stricken; stricken, striking;
Thus the round of combat ran;
Garcilasso, though an infant,
Showed the metal of a man.
He at length beneath the armpit
Dealt the Moor a mortal wound:
From his saddle fell the giant,
Pale and groaning to the ground.
Garcilasso, quick alighting
From his horse, approached the foe,
Cut his head off, and in triumph
Hung it at his saddle-bow.
Tore away the sacred Ave
From its former place of shame,
On his knees devoutly kissed it,
Kissed the blessed Mary's name.
On his lance's point he bears it
For a pendant, mounts his steed,
With the Moor's in hand, returning,
All the court applaud the deed.
Lords, and dukes, and noble captains,
All were struck with great amaze,
Whilst the king and queen, with plaudits
Cheerly urged, repeat his praise.
Wonder some, and some amazement,
Kept quite dumb, to see a Childe
So exceeding young, triumphant
O'er that big-boned Paynim vilde.
Garcilasso de la Vega
They the youth thenceforward call,
For his duel in the Vega
Of Granada chanced to fall.
"The king, and the queen, and all the court, were, as the ballad says, most astonished at this valiant deed of Garcilasso, and the king commanded him to place on his arms the words Ave Maria, with just reason, for having quitted himself so well upon that ruffian Moor, and for having cut off his head."—Hist. de las Guerras Civiles de Granada, fol. 454-9.
A manuscript in the Bodleian Library—of Rawlinson's Collection, No. 43,—says that Garcilasso, at the time this combat took place, was but eighteen years of age. The manuscript bears this title, 'Armas de los mas nobles Señores de Castilla, sus nombres, apellidos, casas y rentas; con algunos puntos de sus hazañas; los Arcobispos, Obispos, Visoreyes y Embaxadores, Consejos y Inquisiciones, y otras cosas curiosas de aquel Reyno: en Paris, y compuesto por Ambrosio de Salazar, Secretario Interprete del Rey Cristianissimo. 1623.' This writer, however, follows the general error of imputing the action to the father of the poet. His account of the family arms differs also from Imhof's: according to his account, they bear, or, a castle on a field vert, with the words Ave Maria, Gracia Plena, in letters azure: but as this association of tinct would be false heraldry, it has seemed preferable to follow the authority of Imhof. It may not be amiss to mention in this place, that although Garcilasso is said to have been dignified with the cross of the Order of St. James, the badge represented in paintings of him is that of the Order of Alcantara.
[IV.]—Page 124.
The volume of Navagero's writings being but rarely met with, and his poetical compositions exhibiting much delicacy of thought and elegance of style, I shall perhaps be doing an acceptable thing in presenting to the reader a few of his smaller verses. His longer pieces, the pastoral entitled 'Iolas,' the sapphics 'In Auroram,' and the lines 'In Vancium vicum Patavinum amænissimum,' are perhaps yet more beautiful in imagery than those I have selected; but short as these are, they may serve to show the grounds which his cotemporaries had for the praises they bestowed upon him.
VOTA AD AURAS.
Auræ, quæ levibus percurritis aëra pennis,
Et strepitis blando per nemora alta sono:
Serta dat hæc vobis, vobis hæc rusticus Idmon
Spargit odorato plena canistra croco.
Vos lenite æstum, et paleas sejungite inanes,
Dum medio fruges ventilat ille die.
TO THE AIRS.
Gentle airs, that on light wing
Through the high woods softly sing
In low murmurs! these sweet wreaths,
Violets, blue-bells, woodbines, heaths,
Rustic Idmon loves to throw
To you thus in handfuls, so
Temper you the heat of day,
And the thin chaff blow away,
When at noon his van again
Winnows out the golden grain.
THYRSIDIS VOTA VENERI.
Quòd tulit optata tandem de Leucade Thyrsis
Fructum aliquem, has violas dat tibi, sancta Venus!
Post sepem hanc sensim obrepens, tria basia sumsi:
Nil ultra potui, nam propè mater erat.
Nunc violas; sed plena feram si vota, dicabo
Inscriptam hôc myrtum carmine, Diva, tibi:
'Hanc Veneri myrtum Thyrsis quòd amore potitus
Dedicat, atque unà seque suosque greges.'
THYRSIS' VOW TO VENUS.
These violets, holy Power, to thee
With grateful mind does Thyrsis cast,
For that from long-loved Leuca, he
Has gained some fruit of love at last.
Creeping behind the lilach trees,
I snatched three kisses, sweet and choice;
I could no more, for in the breeze
We surely heard her mother's voice.
Blue violets now; but, should'st thou grant
All my heart beats for, Power Divine,
Engraved with this rude rhyme, a plant
Of deathless myrtle shall be thine.
'This myrtle, faithful to his vow,
Thyrsis to Venus gives, and more,
Himself and flocks, as tasting now
Love's gracious sweets, but wished before.'
THYRSIDIS VOTA ET QUERCUI ET SYLVÆ.
Et quercum, et silvam hanc ante omnia Thyrsis amabit,
Et certo feret his annua vota die:
Dum potuit memor esse, quod hâc primum ille sub umbrâ
Ultima de carâ Leucade vota tulit.
THYRSIS TO THE OAK AND GROVE.
This green oak and sapling grove
Before all will Thyrsis love,
And to them, each May-day, rare
Tributes of sweet incense bear,
Long as memory lives to say,
'Twas upon that happy day
He first gained, beneath their boughs,
His dear Leuca's marriage vows.
QUUM EX HISPANICA LEGATIONE IN ITALIAM REVERTERETUR.
Salve, aura Deûm, mundi felicior ora,
Formosæ Veneris dulces salvete recessus;
Ut vos post tantos animi, mentisque labores
Aspicio, lustroque libens! ut munere vestro
Sollicitas toto depello e pectore curas!
Non aliis Charites perfundunt candida lymphis
Corpora; non alios contexunt serta per agros!
ON HIS RETURN TO ITALY FROM THE SPANISH EMBASSY.
Hail, dear region of my birth,
Care of Heaven and pride of earth,
Sweetest seats of Venus, vale,
Rock, wood, mountain, hail, all hail!
Oh with what deep joy I view,
Gaze at, traverse, talk to you,
After such laborious hours,
Mental toils and wasted powers!
How at sight of you each care
And vexation melts in air!
Never may the virgin Graces
Look in other shady places
For shy streams to bathe in, ne'er
Braid with other flowers their hair,
Than the ones so sweet and dear
Which I taste so freshly here!
INVITATIO AD AMÆNAM FONTEM.
Et gelidus fons est, et nulla salubrior unda,
Et molli circum gramine terra viret;
Et ramis arcent soles frondentibus alni,
Et levis in nullo gratior aura loco est;
Et medio Titan nunc ardentissimus axe est,
Exustusque gravi sidere fervet ager.
Siste, viator, iter: nimio jam torridus æstu,
Jam nequeunt lassi longius ire pedes.
Accubitu languorem, æstum aurâ, umbrâque virenti,
Perspicuo poteris fonte levare sitim.
INVITATION TO A PLEASANT FOUNTAIN.
Cold the fountain is, no wave
More salubrious, green herbs pave
All its margin; its thick roof—
Leaves and boughs—is sunshine proof;
No where does the Zephyr blow
Half so pleasantly, and now
Titan on his mid-day tower
Scorches forest, field, and flower;
Rest thee, Traveller, rest thy feet,
Thou art fainting with the heat,
And canst walk no farther! here,
In this babbling fountain clear,
Thou may'st slake thy thirst, beneath
These green branches; in the breath
Of the fresh breeze, dry the dews
Off thy throbbing brows, and lose
All thy languor on the bed
Gadding thyme and mosses spread.
DE CUPIDINE ET HYELLA.
Florentes dum fortè vagans mea Hyella per hortos
Texit odoratis lilia cana rosis,
Ecce rosas inter latitantem invenit Amorem,
Et simul annexis floribus implicuit.
Luctatur primò, et contrà nitentibus alis
Indomitus tentat solvere vincla puer;
Mox ubi lacteolas, et digna matre papillas
Vidit, et ora ipsos nata movere Deos,
Impositosque comæ ambrosios ut sensit odores,
Quosque legit diti messe beatus Arabs:
"I," dixit, "mea, quære novum tibi, mater, Amorem,
Imperio sedes hæc erit apta meo!"
CUPID AND HYELLA.[AT]
As my Hyella chanced to rove
Of late her garden grounds, and there,
Of roses and white lilies wove
Sweet wreaths to bind her flowing hair;
Amidst the roses clustering thick,
She spied young Cupid slumbering sound,
And with strong chains of woodbine, quick,
The rosy infant, laughing, bound.
At first his radiant wings he flapped
Rebelliously, and strove—in vain—
Indignant to be so entrapped,
To break the verdant bonds in twain.
But when within a little while
Breasts white as Venus's he saw,
And looked in her sweet face, whose smile
The Gods themselves might languish for:
And when from every braided tress
The' ambrosial odours he perceived,—
Rose-odours rich as those which bless
The Arab when his harvest's sheaved:
"Go, go," he cried, "Mamma, and seek
Another Love,—my only shrine
Henceforth shall be this lady's cheek
And laughing eyes: good b'ye to thine."
AL SONNO.
Sonno, che all' affannate, e stanche meuti
D'ogni fatica lor riposo sei,
Deh moviti a pietà de' dolor miei,
E porgi qualche pace a miei tormenti!
Lasso, le notti mie son sì dolenti,
Che quando più riposo aver devrei,
Allor più piango, e mi doglio di lei,
Che sprezza gli angosciosi miei lamenti.
Tu ch' acqueti ogni pena acerba e rea,
Vien, Sonno, ad acquetar i miei martiri;
E vinci quel ch' ogni altro vince, Amore,
Così sempre sian lieti i tuoi desiri;
E il sen della tua bella Pasitea
Sempre spiri d' ambrosia un dolce odore!
TO SLEEP.
Slumber, blest balm for all the cares that tease
Sad spirits weary and o'ertoiled, oh deign
To bring, in kind compassion of my pain,
A little interval of rest and ease!
My nights are such, that when I most should seize
On soft repose, then most I have to weep
That it disdains to lull my pangs asleep,
Deaf to my murmured prayers and earnest pleas.
Come thou who calm'st all agony and woe,
Come now, calm mine, and conquer him whose power
Oppresses all beside, fierce Cupid,—so
Happy be thy desires in bed and bower;
And wreaths of breathed ambrosia without end,
Thy beauteous Pasithea's steps attend!
[V.]—Page 130.
GARCILASSO DE LA VEGA TO THE VERY MAGNIFICENT LADY, THE LADY GERONYMA PALOVA DE ALMOGAVAR.
If I had not already known the correctness of your ladyship's judgment, the value which I see you set upon this work would suffice to assure me of it. But you already stood so high in my opinion, that though I before considered it excellent on many accounts, my principal reason now for this consideration is, that you have set your stamp on it in such a manner, that we might almost say it was your own work, as it is through you we possess it in the language we best understand. For, so far from thinking of being able to prevail on Boscán to translate it, I should not even have dared to ask it of him, well knowing his constant dislike to the writers of romances, (though this he could scarcely call a romance) had I not assured myself that, being commanded by your ladyship, he could not excuse himself. With myself I am extremely well satisfied, as before the book reached your hands, I esteemed it as it deserves; whereas had I only become acquainted with its merits, now that I see you deem them great, I might imagine that I was influenced in my judgment of it by your ladyship's opinion. But now, I not merely suspect, but am convinced it is a book that deserves to be commended to your hands, that it may afterwards without danger go forth into the world. For it is a most necessary thing wherever there are gentlemen and ladies of distinction, that they should not only consult whatsoever serves to increase the point of honour, but guard against every thing that has a tendency to lessen it: both the one and the other are treated of in this performance with so much wisdom and address, that it seems to me there is nothing more to be wished for than to see the whole realized in some gentleman, and likewise in—I was going to say, some lady, but I recollected that you were in the world to take me to account for the idle words. We may moreover remark on this work of Castiglione, that as highly successful performances always go beyond their promise, so the Count has laid down the duties of a finished courtier with such absolute completeness as not to leave one of any rank unacquainted with what he ought to do and be. So that we may see how much we should have lost in not possessing it. Nor must we pass over the very essential benefit rendered to our language by having written in it things so deserving of perusal; for I know not what misfortune has ever been ours, in scarcely possessing an author that has written in Castilian any thing but what might very well be dispensed with,—though this indeed would be difficult to prove to the satisfaction of those who pore over the volumes which instruct mankind in slaughter. And well did your ladyship know what person to fix upon to be your medium in producing this benefit to all. For notwithstanding it is as difficult a matter, in my judgment, to translate a book well, as to write it in the first instance, so admirably has Boscán performed his part, that every time I sit down to read this work of his, or, to speak more accurately, of yours, it seems to me to have been written in no other language. Or if at any time I remember to have read the Italian, my thoughts immediately return to the pages in my hands. One thing he has guarded against, which very few have done; he has avoided affectation without incurring the sin of stiffness, and with great purity of style has made use of expressions especially polite and agreeable to refined ears, and of words neither novel in appearance, nor disused amongst the people: he has proved himself also a very faithful translator, and by not restricting himself to the rigour of the letter, but to the truth and spirit of the thoughts, has transfused in his version by a variety of ways, all the force and ornament of the original. He has thus given every thing so much in the manner of his author, and has found his author such, that the defenders of the work may with little trouble answer those who wish in any respect to carp at its contents. I do not address myself to men whose dainty ears, amidst a thousand elegant things contained in the volume, are offended with one or two that may not be quite so good as the rest, being inclined to think that these one or two are the only points that please them, whilst they are offended with all the rest; and this I could prove, if I were inclined, by what they approve in other cases.
We are not, however, to lose time with these captious geniuses, but referring them to him who himself answers them on these very points, let us turn to those who with some show of reason might desire satisfaction in what offends them, where the author treats of all the numerous methods of saying genteel things, and smart repartees to excite mirth. Some there are given as specimens, which do not appear to reach the excellence of others, nor deserve perhaps to be considered as very good for one who has so admirably treated of the rest; and hence they may suspect that he has not the great judgment and penetration we ascribe to him. To this we would answer, that the author's intention was to furnish a variety of modes of saying graceful things, and hence, that we might better know the difference between them, he gave an equal variety of examples: in discoursing on all these many ways, there could not possibly be so many clever flights in each; some of those therefore which he gave for examples, of necessity fall short of the merit of others, and such, I have good reason to believe, without deceiving himself in the least as to their inferiority, an author of his good sense considers them; so we see that in this respect also he is free from blame. I only must plead guilty and deserving of censure, for having been so tedious in my communication. But these impertinences really make me angry, and compel me to write so long a letter to so faultless a personage. I frankly confess that I so greatly envied you the thanks that are your due in the production of this book, that I wished, so far as I could, to have myself some concern in it, and for fear any one should employ himself in translating, that is to say, in spoiling the original, I earnestly entreated Boscán to print his own version without delay, in order to stop the hurry which those who write ill are accustomed to use in inflicting their performances on the public. And although this translation would give me revenge sufficient on any other that might be put forth, I am such a foe to contention, that even this, though attended with no possible danger, would yet annoy me. For this reason, almost by force, I made him put it to press with all expedition, and he chose to have me with him at the final polish, but rather as a mere man of sense than as his assistant in any emendation. Of your ladyship, I beg that as his book is under your protection, it may lose nothing for the little part I take in it, since in return for this act of goodness, I now lay it at your feet, written in a better character, wherein your name and accomplishments may be read and admired of all.
[VI.]—Page 145.
PETRUS BEMBUS GARCILASSO HISPANO, S. P. D.
Neapolim.
Ex iis carminibus quæ ad me pridem scripsisti, et quantum me amares, libentissimè perspexi, qui neque familiarem tibi hominem, neque de facie cognitum tam honorificè appellavisses, tantisque ornares laudibus; et quantus ipse esses in lyricis pangendis, quantúmque præstares ingenii luminibus amabilítatéque scribendi, facilè cognovi. Quorum alterum ejusmodi est, ut nihil mihi potuerit accidere jucundius. Quid est enim quod possit cum præstantissimi poetæ amore atque benevolentiâ comparari? Reliqua enim omnia, quæ et honesta et chara homines habent, unà cum iis qui ea possident, brevi tempore intereunt: Poetæ uni vivunt, longævique ac diuturni sunt, eandémque vitam ac diuturnitatem, quibus volunt, impartiuntur. In altero illud perfecisti, ut non solùm Hispanos tuos omneis, qui se Apollini Musisque dediderunt, longè numeris superes et præcurras tuis, sed Italis etiam hominibus stimulum addas, quo magis magisque se excitent, si modò volent in hoc abs te certamine atque his in studiis ipsi quoque non præteriri. Quem quidem meum de te sensum atque judicium, alia tua nonnulla ejusdem generis mihi Neapoli nuper missa scripta confirmaverunt. Nihil enim legi ferè hâc ætate confectum aut elegantius, aut omnino probius et purius, aut certè majori cum dignitate. Itaque quod me amas, mihi verissimè justissimèque lætor; quod egregius es vir atque magnus, cùm tibi in primis gratulor, tum verò plurimum terræ Hispaniæ, patriæ atque altrici tuæ, cui quidem est hoc nomine amplissimus bonæ laudis atque gloriæ cumulus accessurus. Tametsi est etiam aliud, quod quidem auget magnopere lætitiam ex te conceptam meam. Nam cùm nuper mecum Honoratus monachus, quem tibi famâ notum esse video, in eum sermonem esset ingressus, ut quid de tuis carminibus sentirem, me interrogavisset, ego verò illi meum judicium patefecissem, quod quidem accidit ei par, atque simillimum suo, (est autem peracri vir ingenio atque in poeticis studiis pererudito) ea mihi de tuis plurimis maximisque virtutibus, de morum suavitate, de integritate vitæ, de humanitate tuâ dixit, quæ amici ei sui per literas significavissent, ut hoc adderet, omnium Neapolitanorum qui te novissent, sermonibus attestationibusque confirmari, his temporibus, quibus maximè Italiam vestræ nationes referserunt, quem omnes planè homines te uno ardentius amaverint, cuique plus tribuerint, illam ad urbem ex Hispaniâ venisse porrò nullum. Quamobrem magnum me fecisse lucrum statuo, qui nullo meo labore in tuam benevolentiam pervenerim, tuque ita me complexus sis, ut etiam ornes Musæ tuæ præconio tam illustri. Quibus quidem fit rebus, ut nisi te contrà ipse quamplurimùm et amavero et coluero, hominem profectò esse me nequaquam putem. Sed amoris erga te mei atque observantiæ studium, testatum tibi facere hoc ab initio decrevi, ut eundem Honoratum, de quo suprà commemoravi, qui te impensè diligit, ad teque in præsentiâ proficiscitur, summâ tibi diligentiâ commendarem. Ut hinc potissimùm cognosceres, quid de me tibi ipse polliceri possis, cùm me videas id abs te audere petere, quod mihi esse maximum maximèque expetendum statuissem. Illius fratrum, hominum innocentium et planè bonorum patrimonium, quemadmodum nullâ ipsorum culpâ, in Gallici belli præda fuerit, scire te arbitror; itaque de eo nihil dicam. Nunc autem cùm hi ab Carolo Imperatore, omnium qui unquam nati sunt, regum atque principum optimo, injustè amissa repetere statuerint, si te unum ejus rei adjutorem habebunt, sperant se, quod honestè cupiunt, etiam facilè consequi posse; ea tua est et apud Imperatorem ipsum gratia, et apud illos, qui ei charissimi sunt, autoritas, familiaritas, necessitudo. Quare magnopere te rogo, ut rem suscipias, fratresque illos atque familiam in pristinum fortunæ statum tuâ curâ procurationeque restituas. Homines honestissimos tuique studiosissimos tibi in perpetuum devincies; mihi verò tam gratum feceris, ut illo ipso patrimonio me abs te iri auctum et ornatum putem. Honoratum enim tam diligo, quàm si mens esset frater; tanti facio, ut æquè perpaucos; tam illi cupio hâc in re tuo beneficio et usui et voluptati esse, ut ipse, cujus fratrum interest, magis idem cupere non possit, aut magis animo laborare, quàm ipse planè laboro. Sed hunc laborem meum tu, qui me tuâ sponte diligis, dexteritate illâ tuâ, quâ excellis, et ingenio, quo te charum et peramabilem apud omnes homines reddis, mihi, ut spero, celeriter eripies. Quod ut facias, naturæ bonitati ac lenitati confisus tuæ, non jam ut novus tibi amicus pudenter atque subtimidè, sed quemadmodum veteres necessarii solent, etiam atque etiam abs te peto. Vale. VII Calend. Septembres. M.D.XXXV.
Pet. Bemb. Epist. Famil. Lib. Sex.
[VII.] Page 244.
He 'gainst a wise and potent king that held
His sire in bondage, gallantly rebelled.
During one of the many tumults that distracted Castile in the reign of king D. Juan II. Fernando Alvarez de Toledo, earl of Alva, was seized by the monarch, and kept close prisoner, under the charge of having designed to bring in the king of Navarre, though this the people regarded as a mere invention. Don Garcia, his son, who was afterwards the first duke of Alva, took up arms to liberate his father, joined the king of Arragon, and from the castle of Piedrahita, did much harm to the king of Castile in laying waste the frontier country. Don Fernando remained, however, in prison till the accession of king Henry, when he was voluntarily set free by that prince.
D. Fadrique de Toledo, the second duke of Alva, a son of D. Garcia, was in his youth general of the Christian forces on the frontiers of Grenada. He greatly signalized himself in the war of Navarre, gathering a considerable force to co-operate with the English, under the command of the marquis of Dorset. To secure the pass into France, he crossed the mountains and took St. John de Pie de Puerto, which commanded the pass of Valderronças. The king of Navarre succeeded, however, in effecting a passage with his army through that of Valderronçal, and J. Fernando Valdez, and other commanders, amongst the mountains, hemmed in the duke of Alva; but learning that the king of Navarre was marching to invest Pampluna, the Duke resolved to fling some succour into its citadel, and leaving the castle of St. John under the command of James de Vera, sallied out upon Valdez, and killing that general, succeeded, with the loss of 400 men, in carrying his camp, and relieving Pampluna.
His son, D. Garcia de Toledo, being employed in 1510, with count Pedro Navarro, in a military expedition on the coast of Africa, passed to the conquest of the Isle of Gelves, and disembarking his men, penetrated into the interior of that desert country. It was a season of such excessive heat, that some of the soldiers dropped dead from thirst, so that the whole army fell into disorder. D. Garcia and the Count, however, cheered them on with fond expressions, and such promises as the necessity of the case required. They issued at length from the sands, and entering thick groves of palm and olive trees, discovered unexpectedly some wells of water, with many pitchers and buckets attached to ropes. The eager desire of every one to drink doubled the disorder, more particularly as there was no enemy in sight; for the whole had been arranged by the Moors, who secretly waited in a corner of the wood, till the appearance of 4,000 foot and 200 horse, when they rushed upon them with loud outcries, and casting their darts, caused them to fly in the greatest confusion, although many desired rather to drink than to fly, or even live. Don Garcia seeing this, alighted, and with his pike pricked forward many who had, betwixt despair and faintness, cast themselves on the ground, and with every expression of military endearment, endeavoured to animate them against the Moors. With only fifteen around him, he attacked the foe with such brave impetuosity, that they began to give way, and if at this juncture he had been supported by the rest, he would assuredly have furnished triumph instead of tribulation to his country. But whilst Navarro was attempting to bring back the fugitive troops, the Moors made a fresh attack on his little band, wounded several, and killed D. Garcia. His death doubled the terror and distress of all, and notwithstanding that Navarro implored them with tears to turn their faces, they fled with the utmost precipitation to their vessels: and hence they still say in Castile, 'Mother Gelves, the spell-word of misfortune!'[AU]
The Emperor Charles the Fifth, on the taking of Tunis, discovered amongst the booty the arms of Don Garcia, and presented them to his youthful son, afterwards the celebrated duke of Alva. Pointing out to him the marks of wounds received by his unfortunate parent, he exhorted him to imitate his valour, but wished him a happier doom. The duke received these arms with the most lively joy, and caused them to be transported to Spain, and hung up in the arsenal of the dukes of Alva.[AV]
[VIII.]—Page 250.
Threatening the' illustrious youth, a knight was seen,
Of a fierce spirit and insulting mien.
It happened that a gentleman of Burgos courted a lady to whom Fernando of Alva also paid his addresses. It was in the year 1524, when harquebusses were just coming into use, but they were considered as very ungentlemanly weapons to do slaughter with, by those who had been trained to the exercises of the sword. This gentleman boasted that he was a most excellent firer of the harquebuss, when, being both in the presence of the lady, Fernando took out his pocket handkerchief, and putting it to his nose, exclaimed, "What an odious fume of powder there is in the room!" at which the lady smiled greatly, and the gentleman's face became overspread with blushes. Taking the duke afterwards aside, he challenged him to meet him with sword and capa, at a certain hour of the night, on the bridge San Pablo. The duke arriving, his rival asked him what arms he brought. "Sword and dagger." "I have but a sword," rejoined the gentleman; whereupon the duke threw his dagger into the river. They fought—were reconciled, and agreed to conceal the duel; but it soon became the theme of conversation, for on taking up their mantles from the ground, they chanced to make an exchange; and the duke, paying no attention to it, appeared in the palace with his opponent's mantle, upon which were emblazoned the arms of the Order of St. Jago, which led to a discovery of the whole quarrel.
[IX.]—Page 274.
The city of Toledo.
[X.]—Page 302.
Mosen Dural, a distinguished gentleman of Barcelona, and Grand-Treasurer of the city.
[XI.]—Page 305.
To the Flower of Gnido.
The title of this Ode is derived from a quarter of the city of Naples, called Il Seggio de Gnido, the favourite abode then of people of fashion, in which also the lady lived to whom the Ode was addressed. This lady, Violante San Severino, a daughter of the duke of Soma, was courted by Fabio Galeota, a friend of Garcilasso, in whose behalf the poem was written. In the original, Garcilasso plays upon the names of the parties, comparing the paleness of the lover, not to the lily, but to the white violet, and representing him as a galley slave in the boat, or, to speak more poetically, the shell in which the Queen of Beauty at her birth sailed along the ocean. If I have been guilty of preserving any trace of this idle play upon words, it is only that it has chimed in necessarily with the sense. Mention is made by Sanchez, of an elegy addressed by Fabio to Violante, beginning
Andate senza me, chara Violante?
Wilt thou then go without me, in thy wrath,
Dear Violante?
the pathos of which has led me to look for it, but without success, in various old collections of Tuscan verses.
[XII.]—Page 369.
In the fantastic pirouette.
As none of the commentators of Garcilasso offer a word in explanation of these verses, it was difficult to conceive exactly either to what they alluded, or what had given rise to them. I find, however, in Boscán who has written on the same text, a complete elucidation. They were sported on Don Luis de la Cueva, for dancing in the palace with a lady who was called La Páxara—the bird, probably from the elegance with which she flew down the dance;[AW] it would appear that D. Luis fell whilst attempting a difficult step, and that in reply to the universal banter of the assembly, he had unfortunately said, it was after all no great crime in him to dance. This seems to have excited great amusement, and to have set a number of gentlemen, and some titled heads to work, to write bad verses to prove the contrary. As, however, these verses show some wit, and at the same time best serve to clear up the obscurity of my author, I subjoin translations.
THE DUKE OF ALVA.
Why, what a terrible affair
Is this! you were too bad by half;
You've really made it, I declare,
Your business to make people laugh.
I'm one who feels it! to see you,
Of all men, to the Bird advance!
I counsel you, whate'er you do,
You take no farther care to dance.
GARCILASSO.
Count they then this a great offence, &c.
THE PRIOR OF SANTISTÉVAN.
It might not be a first-rate sin,
But all who dance like this good knight,
Must pay for it most surely in
The laugh of even the most polite.
Let those who wish to dance, not take
Him for an omen! He advanced,
And practised—but, for mercy's sake,
Let not the gallant say he danced!
BOSCÁN.
He touched forbidden fruit—the debt
Must thus be paid—he danced! and now
'Tis clear he'll live but by the sweat,
Henceforth, of his laborious brow.
Himself he cruelly deceived,
And well he might, when, countenanced
By such assurance, he conceived
We laughed, because he merely danced.
D. FERNANDO ALVAREZ DE TOLEDO.
This gentleman would quite have lost
His credit in this curious case,
Had not the little Bird he crossed
So sweetly sang him into grace.
But if from this he turns away,
And shows at all discountenanced,
I'd wish to comfort him, and say,
As he says, that he only danced!
THE TREASURER OF ALCANTARA.
All were astonished that the king
So quickly freed you, but he freed
You, not to be in that bright ring
So very forward; no, indeed!
Right forward has he been, but yet
Why laugh with such extravagance?
He only maims a pirouette,
He only dislocates a dance.
D. LUIS OSORIO.
Know that the laws, to his disgrace,
Condemn Don Luis now to fall,
For (only think) he had the face
To dance in the king's palace-hall!
Dance with the Bird! oh fatal even!
And yet, as he seems circumstanced,
He ought perhaps to be forgiven,
Since, as he says, he only danced.
D. GARCIA DE TOLEDO.
The Emperor set you free, but not
Without a rigorous penance had,
Sentencing you upon the spot
To dance—it really was too bad!
All say it was a cruel thing,
Beyond all mortal sufferance,
For 'tis not just in any king
To' oblige his subjects so to dance!
[XIII.]—Page 370.
AD FERDINANDUM DE ACUÑA.
Dum reges, Fernande, canis, dum Cæsaris altam
Progeniem nostri, claraque facta Ducum,
Dum Hispanâ memoras fractas sub cuspide gentes,
Obstupuere homines, obstupuere Dii;
Extollensque caput sacri de vertice Pindi
Calliope blandis vocibus hæc retulit:
Macte puer, geminâ præcinctus tempora lauro
Qui nova nunc Martis gloria solus eras;
Hæc tibi dat Bacchusque pater, dat Phœbus Apollo,
Nympharumque leves, Castalidumque chori,
Ut, quos divino celebrâsti carmine Reges,
Teque simul curvâ qui canis alma lyrâ,
Sæpe legant, laudent, celebrent post fata nepotes,
Nullaque perpetuos nox fuget atra dies.
This is the only specimen extant of Garcilasso's Latin compositions, which are spoken of by several writers of his day as marked by extreme elegance, and amongst others by Tansillo: nor can I close my volume, written in the hope of placing in the clear light it deserves the merit of this amiable poet, with more propriety and grace, than by adopting the words of one who loved him for his virtues, and admired him for his genius.
Spirto gentil, che con la cetra al collo,
La spada al fianco, ogn'or la penna in mano,
Per sentier gite, che non pùr Hispano,
Ma Latin pie fra noi raro segnollo!
Felice voi, ch'or Marte, ed or Apollo,
Or Mercurio seguendo, fuor del piano,
V'andate a por del volgo si lontano,
Che man d'invidia non vi puo dar crollo,—
Tutte le chiuse vie, sassose, ed erte,
Che vanno al tempio, ove il morir si spregia,
Spianate innanzi a voi sono, ed aperte.
E perchè vadan per la strada egregia
Vostre virtù d'abito altier coverte,
Bellezza, e nobiltà l'adorna, e fregia.