Nor does his poetry want the charm of melancholy sentiment, nor the vehemence of passion; while all that he writes has the peculiar merit of a harmony and grace all his own.
"Graciosamente estando,
graciosamente andando,
blando ayre respirava al prado ameno
ella cantava, y juntamente el seno
inchiendose yva de diversas flores
en que el prado era lleno
sobre verde variado en mil colores."
[JORGE DE MONTEMAYOR]
Jorge de Montemayor is another Portuguese poet, whose name belongs rather to Spain than Portugal. His real appellation is unknown. He adopted that of the place of his birth, Montemor, a town in the jurisdiction of Coimbra in Portugal, which he in a manner translated into Spanish, and called himself Jorge or George de Montemayor. He was born about the year 1520, of humble origin, and slight education. In his youth he entered the military profession. His talent for music first brought him into notice: he emigrated into Castile, and endeavoured to gain his livelihood by music: he succeeded in being incorporated in the band of the Royal Chapel; and when the Infante don Philip, afterwards Philip II., made his celebrated progress through Germany, Italy, and the Low Countries, having in his suite a band of choice musicians and singers, Montemayor made one among them.
These travels tended to enlarge his mind; and, although unacquainted with the learned languages, he became a proficient in various foreign ones, and joined to these accomplishments a taste for literature. His love for music was allied closely to a talent for poetry; and when on his return to Spain, he resided at the city of Leon, he established his fame as an author, by writing his "Diana." The fame of this book spread far and wide: it was imitated by almost every poet that wrote in those days, and the style in which it was composed became the fashion throughout Spain.
The "Diana" is a pastoral of such an ideal species, that it sets chronology and history at defiance. Of these, our Shakspeare made light, when he wrote "Cymbeline" and the "Winter's Tale;" but the "Diana" is even more confused in its costume. The scene of it is placed at the foot of the mountains of Leon; and the heroine is said to be the object of a real attachment of the author. This lady in other poems is called Marfisa: he is said to have loved her before he left Spain with the court: on his return he found her married; and his grief and her infidelity he personified in the Sireno and Diana of his pastoral. Thus many modern events are spoken of; and the adventures of Abindarres and Xarifa, contemporaries of king Ferdinand, are mentioned as of old date, at the same time that Apollo and Diana, nymphs and fauns, are the objects of adoration among the shepherds; for, indeed, in those days the gods of the Greeks made as it were an integral portion of poetry, and it would have been considered a solecism to have omitted the names and worship of these deities. The story is conceived in the same heterogeneous manner. There is infinite simplicity in all the part that strictly appertains to Diana and her lover; and much of what is romantic and even supernatural in the other portions.
The first book commences with the return of Sireno to the valleys of the mountains of Leon. He has already heard of the falsehood of his mistress, who is married to another. The romance opens with the songs of his complaints. In one of these he addresses a lock of hair belonging to Diana; and nothing can be more simple, yet touching and true, and elegant, than the opening of this poem. He is joined by Silvano, another lover of Diana, who has always been disdained; and his resignation is truly exemplary: these two hapless lovers are joined by a shepherdess, who is also suffering the woes of unfortunate passion; and her history concludes the book. In the second, events of more action are introduced: the scene even changes to a sort of fairy tale; but though the machinery of the story alters, the sentiments remain the same, conceived in the language of passion and reality. It is not until the sixth book that Diana herself is introduced, and the canzoni placed in her mouth are among the best in the book: she lays the blame of her infidelity on her parents, who forced her to marry a rich shepherd. The romance concludes without any change in the situation of the hero and heroine.
It is singular, that a work founded on such strange and unnatural machinery should have seized on the imagination, we may almost say, of the world; since this sort of pastoral became universally imitated; but there is something in the rural pictures and out-of-door life which composes the scenery of such works., grateful, we know not why, to our hearts. The style of the "Diana" is, indeed, peculiarly beautiful. Nothing can be more correct, yet less laboured; nothing more elegant, yet less exaggerated. To express vividly and truly, yet gracefully and in harmonious measure, the emotions of the various personages, appears to be the author's chief aim. Thus we read on, attracted by the melody of the style, the heartfelt truth of the sentiments, and the beauty of the descriptions, even while we are quite careless of the developement of the plot, and tolerably uninterested in any of the personages. To translate the poetry of this book would be difficult, as the style forms its charm; but it is impossible to read it in the original without being carried away by the flow of the versification, and the unaffected expression of real feeling.
The "Diana" superseded for a time the books of chivalry, of which the Spaniards were so fond. Since Amadis first appeared, no work had been so popular. Cervantes, who imitated it in his "Galatea," thus mentions it in the scrutiny the curate and barber make of Don Quixote's library. Speaking of pastorals in general, the curate says: "These books do not deserve to be burned with the rest, because they have never done nor will do the harm of which tales of chivalry are guilty; they are mere books of amusement, and hurt no one." Of the pastoral in question itself, he says: "Let us begin by the "Diana" of Montemayor: I am of opinion that we tear out all that relates to the wise Felicia and the enchanted water, and almost all the poems in long measure, and let the prose remain, and the merit of its being the first of this species of books."