The next literary monument attributed to this reign would be important, if we had the whole of it. It is a chronicle, in the ballad style, of events which happened in the time of Alfonso the Eleventh, and commonly passes under his name. It was found, hidden in a mass of Arabic manuscripts, by Diego de Mendoza, who attributed it, with little ceremony, to “a secretary of the king”; and it was first publicly made known by Argote de Molina, who thought it written by some poet contemporary with the history he relates. But only thirty-four stanzas of it are now known to exist; and these, though admitted by Sanchez to be probably anterior to the fifteenth century, are shown by him not to be the work of the king, and seem, in fact, to be less ancient in style and language than that critic supposes them to be.[121] They are in very flowing Castilian, and their tone is as spirited as that of most of the old ballads.
Two other poems, written during the reign of one of the Alfonsos, as their author declares,—and therefore almost certainly during that of Alfonso the Eleventh, who was the last of his name,—are also now known in print only by a few stanzas, and by the office of their writer, who styles himself “a Beneficiary of Ubeda.” The first, which consists, in the manuscript, of five hundred and five strophes in the manner of Berceo, is a life of Saint Ildefonso; the last is on the subject of Saint Mary Magdalen. Both would probably detain us little, even if they had been published entire.[122]
We turn, therefore, without further delay, to Juan Ruiz, commonly called the Archpriest of Hita; a poet who is known to have lived at the same period, and whose works, both from their character and amount, deserve especial notice. Their date can be ascertained with a good degree of exactness. In one of the three early manuscripts in which they are extant, some of the poems are fixed at the year 1330, and some, by the two others, at 1343. Their author, who seems to have been born at Alcalá de Henares, lived much at Guadalaxara and Hita, places only five leagues apart, and was imprisoned by order of the Archbishop of Toledo between 1337 and 1350; from all which it may be inferred, that his principal residence was Castile, and that he flourished in the reign of Alfonso the Eleventh; that is, in the time of Don John Manuel, and a very little later.[123]
His works consist of nearly seven thousand verses; and although, in general, they are written in the four-line stanza of Berceo, we find occasionally a variety of measure, tone, and spirit, before unknown in Castilian poetry; the number of their metrical forms, some of which are taken from the Provençal, being reckoned not less than sixteen.[124] The poems, as they have come to us, open with a prayer to God, composed apparently at the time of the Archpriest’s imprisonment; when, as one of the manuscripts sets forth, most of his works were written.[125] Next comes a curious prose prologue, explaining the moral purpose of the whole collection, or rather endeavouring to conceal the immoral tendency of the greater part of it. And then, after somewhat more of prefatory matter, follow, in quick succession, the poems themselves, very miscellaneous in their subjects, but ingeniously connected. The entire mass, when taken together, fills a volume of respectable size.[126]
It is a series of stories, that seem to be sketches of real events in the Archpriest’s own life; sometimes mingled with fictions and allegories, that may, after all, be only veils for other facts; and sometimes speaking out plainly, and announcing themselves as parts of his personal history.[127] In the foreground of this busy scene figures the very equivocal character of his female messenger, the chief agent in his love affairs, whom he boldly calls Trota-conventos, because the messages she carries are so often to or from monasteries and nunneries.[128] The first lady-love to whom the poet sends her is, he says, well taught,—mucho letrada,—and her story is illustrated by the fables of the Sick Lion visited by the other Animals, and of the Mountain bringing forth a Mouse. All, however, is unavailing. The lady refuses to favor his suit; and he consoles himself, as well as he can, with the saying of Solomon, that all is vanity and vexation of spirit.[129]
In the next of his adventures, a false friend deceives him and carries off his lady. But still he is not discouraged.[130] He feels himself to be drawn on by his fate, like the son of a Moorish king, whose history he then relates; and, after some astrological ruminations, declares himself to be born under the star of Venus, and inevitably subject to her control. Another failure follows; and then Love comes in person to visit him and counsels him in a series of fables, which are told with great ease and spirit. The poet answers gravely. He is offended with Don Amor for his falsehood, charges him with being guilty, either by implication or directly, of all the seven deadly sins, and fortifies each of his positions with an appropriate apologue.[131]
The Archpriest now goes to Doña Venus, who, though he knew Ovid, is represented as the wife of Don Amor; and, taking counsel of her, is successful. But the story he relates is evidently a fiction, though it may be accommodated to the facts of the poet’s own case. It is borrowed from a dialogue or play, written before the year 1300, by Pamphylus Maurianus or Maurilianus, and long attributed to Ovid; but the Castilian poet has successfully given to what he adopted the coloring of his own national manners. All this portion, which fills above a thousand lines, is somewhat free in its tone; and the Archpriest, alarmed at himself, turns suddenly round and adds a series of severe moral warnings and teachings to the sex, which he as suddenly breaks off, and, without any assigned reason, goes to the mountains near Segovia. But the month in which he makes his journey is March; the season is rough; and several of his adventures are any thing but agreeable. Still he preserves the same light and thoughtless air; and this part of his history is mingled with spirited pastoral songs in the Provençal manner, called “Cántigas de Serrana,” as the preceding portions had been mingled with fables, which he calls “Enxiemplos,” or stories.[132]
A shrine, much frequented by the devout, is near that part of the Sierra where his journeyings lay; and he makes a pilgrimage to it, which he illustrates with sacred hymns, just as he had before illustrated his love-adventures with apologues and songs. But Lent approaches, and he hurries home. He is hardly arrived, however, when he receives a summons in form from Doña Quaresma (Madam Lent) to attend her in arms, with all her other archpriests and clergy, in order to make a foray, like a foray into the territory of the Moors, against Don Carnaval and his adherents. One of these allegorical battles, which were in great favor with the Trouveurs and other metre-mongers of the Middle Ages, then follows, in which figure Don Tocino (Mr. Bacon) and Doña Cecina (Mrs. Hung-Beef), with other similar personages. The result, of course, since it is now the season of Lent, is the defeat and imprisonment of Don Carnaval; but when that season closes, the allegorical prisoner necessarily escapes, and, raising anew such followers as Mr. Lunch and Mr. Breakfast, again takes the field, and is again triumphant.[133]
Don Carnaval now unites himself to Don Amor, and both appear in state as emperors. Don Amor is received with especial jubilee; clergy and laity, friars, nuns, and jongleurs, going out in wild procession to meet and welcome him.[134] But the honor of formally receiving his Majesty, though claimed by all, and foremost by the nuns, is granted only to the poet. To the poet, too, Don Amor relates his adventures of the preceding winter at Seville and Toledo, and then leaves him to go in search of others. Meanwhile, the Archpriest, with the assistance of his cunning agent, Trota-conventos, begins a new series of love intrigues, even more freely mingled with fables than the first, and ends them only by the death of Trota-conventos herself, with whose epitaph the more carefully connected portion of the Archpriest’s works is brought to a conclusion. The volume contains, however, besides this portion, several smaller poems on subjects as widely different as the “Christian’s Armour” and the “Praise of Little Women,” some of which seem related to the main series, though none of them have any apparent connection with each other.[135]
The tone of the Archpriest’s poetry is very various. In general, a satirical spirit prevails in it, not unmingled with a quiet humor. This spirit often extends into the gravest portions; and how fearless he was, when he indulged himself in it, a passage on the influence of money and corruption at the court of Rome leaves no doubt.[136] Other parts, like the verses on Death, are solemn, and even sometimes tender; while yet others, like the hymns to the Madonna, breathe the purest spirit of Catholic devotion; so that, perhaps, it would not be easy, in the whole body of Spanish literature, to find a volume showing a greater variety in its subjects, or in the modes of managing and exhibiting them.[137]