CHAPTER XV.
Drama continued. — Escriva. — Villalobos. — Question de Amor. — Torres Naharro, in Italy. — His Eight Plays. — His Dramatic Theory. — Division of his Plays, and their Plots. — The Trofea. — The Hymenea. — Intriguing Drama. — Buffoon. — Character and Probable Effects of Naharro’s Plays. — State of the Theatre at the End of the Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella.
While Vicente, in Portugal, was thus giving an impulse to Spanish dramatic literature, which, considering the intimate connection of the two countries and their courts, can hardly have been unfelt in Spain at the time, and was certainly recognized there afterwards, scarcely any thing was done in Spain itself. During the five-and-twenty years that followed the first appearance of Juan de la Enzina, no other dramatic poet seems to have been encouraged or demanded. He was sufficient to satisfy the rare wants of his royal and princely patrons; and, as we have seen, in both countries, the drama continued to be a courtly amusement, confined to a few persons of the highest rank. The commander Escriva, who lived at this time and is the author of a few beautiful verses found in the oldest Cancioneros,[463] wrote, indeed, a dialogue, partly in prose and partly in verse, in which he introduces several interlocutors and brings a complaint to the god of Love against his lady. But the whole is an allegory, occasionally graceful and winning from its style, but obviously not susceptible of representation; so that there is no reason to suppose it had any influence on a class of compositions already somewhat advanced. A similar remark may be added about a translation of the “Amphitryon” of Plautus, made into terse Spanish prose by Francisco de Villalobos, physician to Ferdinand the Catholic and Charles the Fifth, which was first printed in 1515, but which it is not at all probable was ever acted.[464] These, however, are the only attempts made in Spain or Portugal before 1517, except those of Enzina and Vicente, which need to be referred to at all.
But in 1517, or a little earlier, a new movement was felt in the difficult beginnings of the Spanish drama; and it is somewhat singular, that, as the last came from Portugal, the present one came from Italy. It came, however, from two Spaniards. The first of them is the anonymous author of the “Question of Love,” a fiction to be noticed hereafter, which was finished at Ferrara in 1512, and which contains an eclogue of respectable poetical merit, that seems undoubtedly to have been represented before the court of Naples.[465]
The other, a person of more consequence in the history of the Spanish drama, is Bartolomé de Torres Naharro, born at Torres, near Badajoz, on the borders of Portugal, who, after he had been for some time a captive in Algiers, was redeemed, and visited Rome, hoping to find favor at the court of Leo the Tenth. This must have been after 1513, and was, of course, at the time when Juan de la Enzina resided there. But Naharro, by a satire against the vices of the court, made himself obnoxious at Rome, and fled to Naples, where he lived for some time under the protection of the noble-minded Fabricio Colonna, and where, at last, we lose sight of him. He died in poverty.[466]
His works, first published by himself at Naples in 1517, and dedicated to a noble Spaniard, Don Fernando Davalos, a lover of letters,[467] who had married Victoria Colonna, the poetess, are entitled “Propaladia,” or “The Firstlings of his Genius.”[468] They consist of satires, epistles, ballads, a Lamentation for King Ferdinand, who died in 1516, and some other miscellaneous poetry; but chiefly of eight plays, which he calls “Comedias,” and which fill almost the whole volume.[469] He was well situated for making an attempt to advance the drama, and partly succeeded in it. There was, at the time he wrote, a great literary movement in Italy, especially at the court of Rome. The representations of plays, he tells us, were much resorted to,[470] and, though he may not have known it, Trissino had, in 1515, written the first regular tragedy in the Italian language, and thus given an impulse to dramatic literature, which it never afterwards entirely lost.[471]
The eight plays of Naharro, however, do not afford much proof of a familiarity with antiquity, or of a desire to follow ancient rules or examples; but their author gives us a little theory of his own upon the subject of the drama, which is not without good sense. Horace, he says, requires five acts to a play, and he thinks this reasonable; though he looks upon the pauses they make rather as convenient resting-places than any thing else, and calls them, not acts, but “Jornadas,” or days.[472] As to the number of persons, he would have not less than six, nor more than twelve; and as to that sense of propriety which refuses to introduce materials into the subject that do not belong to it, or to permit the characters to talk and act inconsistently, he holds it to be as indispensable as the rudder to a ship. This is all very well.
Besides this, his plays are all in verse, and all open with a sort of prologue, which he calls “Introyto,” generally written in a rustic and amusing style, asking the favor and attention of the audience, and giving hints concerning the subject of the piece that is to follow.
But when we come to the dramas themselves, though we find a decided advance, in some respects, beyond any thing that had preceded them, in others we find great rudeness and extravagance. Their subjects are very various. One of them, the “Soldadesca,” is on the Papal recruiting service at Rome. Another, the “Tinelaria,” or Servants’ Dining-Hall, is on such riots as were likely to happen in the disorderly service of a cardinal’s household; full of revelry and low life. Another, “La Jacinta,” gives us the story of a lady who lives at her castle on the road to Rome, where she violently detains sundry passengers and chooses a husband among them. And of two others, one is on the adventures of a disguised prince, who comes to the court of a fabulous king of Leon, and wins his daughter after the fashion of the old romances of chivalry;[473] and the other on the adventures of a child stolen in infancy, which involve disguises in more humble life.[474]
How various were the modes in which these subjects were thrown into action and verse, and, indeed, how different was the character of his different dramas, may be best understood by a somewhat ampler notice of the two not yet mentioned.
The first of these, the “Trofea,” is in honor of King Manuel of Portugal, and the discoveries and conquests that were made in India and Africa, under his auspices; but it is very meagre and poor. After the prologue, which fills above three hundred verses, Fame enters in the first act and announces, that the great king has, in his most holy wars, gained more lands than are described by Ptolemy; whereupon Ptolemy appears instantly, by especial permission of Pluto, from the regions of torment, and denies the fact; but, after a discussion, is compelled to admit it, though with a saving clause for his own honor. In the second act, two shepherds come upon the stage to sweep it for the king’s appearance. They make themselves quite merry, at first, with the splendor about them, and one of them sits on the throne, and imitates grotesquely the curate of his village; but they soon quarrel, and continue in bad humor, till a royal page interferes and compels them to go on and arrange the apartment. The whole of the third act is taken up with the single speech of an interpreter, bringing in twenty Eastern and African kings who are unable to speak for themselves, but avow, through his very tedious harangue, their allegiance to the crown of Portugal; to all which the king makes no word of reply. The next act is absurdly filled with a royal reception of four shepherds, who bring him presents of a fox, a lamb, an eagle, and a cock, which they explain with some humor and abundance of allegory; but to all which he makes as little reply as he did to the proffered fealty of the twenty heathen kings. In the fifth and last act, Apollo gives verses, in praise of the king, queen, and prince, to Fame, who distributes copies to the audience; but, refusing them to one of the shepherds, has a riotous dispute with him. The shepherd tauntingly offers Fame to spread the praises of King Manuel through the world as well as she does, if she will but lend him her wings. The goddess consents. He puts them on and attempts to fly, but falls headlong on the stage, with which poor practical jest and a villancico the piece ends.
The other drama, called “Hymenea,” is better, and gives intimations of what became later the foundations of the national theatre. Its “Introyto,” or prologue, is coarse, but not without wit, especially in those parts which, according to the peculiar toleration of the times, were allowed to make free with religion, if they but showed sufficient reverence for the Church. The story is entirely invented, and may be supposed to have passed in any city of Spain. The scene opens in front of the house of Febea, the heroine, before daylight, where Hymeneo, the hero, after making known his love for the lady, arranges with his two servants to give her a serenade the next night. When he is gone, the servants discuss their own position, and Boreas, one of them, avows his desperate love for Doresta, the heroine’s maid; a passion which, through the rest of the piece, becomes the running caricature of his master’s. But at this moment the Marquis, a brother of Febea, comes with his servants into the street, and, by the escape of the others, who fly immediately, has little doubt that there has been love-making about the house, and goes away determined to watch more carefully. Thus ends the first act, which might furnish materials for many a Spanish comedy of the seventeenth century.
In the second act, Hymeneo enters with his servants and musicians, and they sing a cancion which reminds us of the sonnet in Molière’s “Misantrope,” and a villancico which is but little better. Febea then appears in the balcony, and after a conversation, which, for its substance and often for its graceful manner, might have been in Calderon’s “Dar la Vida por su Dama,” she promises to receive her lover the next night. When she is gone, the servants and the master confer a little together, the master showing himself very generous in his happiness; but they all escape at the approach of the Marquis, whose suspicions are thus fully confirmed, and who is with difficulty restrained by his page from attacking the offenders at once.
The next act is devoted entirely to the loves of the servants. It is amusing, from its caricature of the troubles and trials of their masters, but does not advance the action at all, The fourth, however, brings the hero and lover into the lady’s house, leaving his attendants in the street, who confess their cowardice to one another, and agree to run away, if the Marquis appears. This happens immediately. They escape, but leave a cloak, which betrays who they are, and the Marquis remains undisputed master of the ground at the end of the act.
The last act opens without delay. The Marquis, offended in the nicest point of Castilian honor,—the very point on which the plots of so many later Spanish dramas turn,—resolves at once to put both of the guilty parties to death, though their offence is no greater than that of having been secretly in the same house together. The lady does not deny her brother’s right, but enters into a long discussion with him about it, part of which is touching and effective, but most of it very tedious; in the midst of all which Hymeneo presents himself, and after explaining who he is and what are his intentions, and especially after admitting, that, under the circumstances of the case, the Marquis might justly have killed his sister, the whole is arranged for a double wedding of masters and servants, and closes with a spirited villancico in honor of Love and his victories.
The two pieces are very different, and mark the extremes of the various experiments Naharro tried in order to produce a dramatic effect. “As to the kinds of dramas,” he says, “it seems to me that two are sufficient for our Castilian language: dramas founded on knowledge, and dramas founded on fancy.”[475] The “Trofea,” no doubt, was intended by him to belong to the first class. Its tone is that of compliment to Manuel, the really great king then reigning in Portugal; and from a passage in the third act it is not unlikely that it was represented in Rome before the Portuguese ambassador, the venerable Tristan d’ Acuña. But the rude and buffoon shepherds, whose dialogue fills so much of the slight and poor action, show plainly that he was neither unacquainted with Enzina and Vicente, nor unwilling to imitate them; while the rest of the drama—the part that is supposed to contain historical facts—is, as we have seen, still worse. The “Hymenea,” on the other hand, has a story of considerable interest, announcing the intriguing plot which became a principal characteristic of the Spanish theatre afterwards. It has even the “Gracioso,” or Droll Servant, who makes love to the heroine’s maid; a character which is also found in Naharro’s “Serafina,” but which Lope de Vega above a century afterwards claimed, as if invented by himself.[476]
What is more singular, this drama approaches to a fulfilment of the requisitions of the unities, for it has but one proper action, which is the marriage of Febea; it does not extend beyond the period of twenty-four hours; and the whole passes in the street before the house of the lady, unless, indeed, the fifth act passes within the house, which is doubtful.[477] The whole, too, is founded on the national manners, and preserves the national costume and character. The best parts, in general, are the humorous; but there are graceful passages between the lovers, and touching passages between the brother and sister. The parody of the servants, Boreas and Doresta, on the passion of the hero and heroine is spirited; and in the first scene between them we have the following dialogue, which might be transferred with effect to many a play of Calderon:—
Boreas. O, would to heaven, my lady dear,
That, at the instant I first looked on thee,
Thy love had equalled mine!
Doresta. Well! that’s not bad!
But still you’re not a bone for me to pick.[478]
Boreas. Make trial of me. Bid me do my best,
In humble service of my love to thee;
So shalt thou put me to the proof, and know
If what I say accord with what I feel.
Doresta. Were my desire to bid thee serve quite clear,
Perchance thy offers would not be so prompt.
Boreas. O lady, look’ee, that’s downright abuse!
Doresta. Abuse? How’s that? Can words and ways so kind,
And full of courtesy, be called abuse?
Boreas. I’ve done.
I dare not speak. Your answers are so sharp,
They pierce my very bowels through and through.
Doresta. Well, by my faith, it grieves my heart to see
That thou so mortal art. Dost think to die
Of this disease?
Boreas. ’T would not be wonderful.
Doresta. But still, my gallant Sir, perhaps you’ll find
That they who give the suffering take it too.
Boreas. In sooth, I ask no better than to do
As do my fellows,—give and take; but now
I take, fair dame, a thousand hurts,
And still give none.
Doresta. How know’st thou that?
And so she continues till she comes to a plenary confession of being no less hurt, or in love, herself, than he is.[479]
All the plays of Naharro have a versification remarkably fluent and harmonious for the period in which he wrote,[480] and nearly all of them have passages of easy and natural dialogue, and of spirited lyrical poetry. But several are very gross; two are absurdly composed in different languages,—one of them in four, and the other in six;[481] and all contain abundant proof, in their structure and tone, of the rudeness of the age that produced them. In consequence of their little respect for the Church, they were soon forbidden by the Inquisition in Spain.[482]
That they were represented in Italy before they were printed,[483] and that they were so far circulated before their author gave them to the press,[484] as to be already in some degree beyond his own control, we know on his own authority. He intimates, too, that a good many of the clergy were present at the representation of at least one of them.[485] But it is not likely that any of his plays were acted, except in the same way with Vicente’s and Enzina’s; that is, before a moderate number of persons in some great man’s house,[486] at Naples, and perhaps at Rome. They, therefore, did not probably produce much effect at first on the condition of the drama, so far as it was then developed in Spain. Their influence came in later, and through the press, when three editions, beginning with that of 1520, appeared in Seville alone in twenty-five years, curtailed indeed, and expurgated in the last, but still giving specimens of dramatic composition much in advance of any thing then produced in the country.
But though men like Juan de la Enzina, Gil Vicente, and Naharro had turned their thoughts towards dramatic composition, they seem to have had no idea of founding a popular national drama. For this we must look to the next period; since, as late as the end of the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella, there is no trace of such a theatre in Spain.