La moza de cántaro

by Lope de Vega

The "Watermaid" belongs to the largest class of Lope's plays—the class in which he excelled—comedias de capa y espada. Ticknor erroneously classes it as a comedy "founded on common life" or as styled by others comedia de costumbres, but it is probable he did so without making himself thoroughly familiar with the comedy in its full form. Zerolo is very emphatic in attributing it to the class of comedias de capa y espada, for he says: "Más que ninguna otra, reune esta obra las circunstancias que caracterizan á las comedias de capa y espada, como embozos, equívocos, etc." Were the leading character what her name implies—a humble servant—and were the other characters of her rank, the play might well be classed as a comedia de costumbres; but that it belongs to the larger class is established by the fact that the intrigue is complicated, the question of love and rank is prominent, and the characters are of the nobility.[9] Any opposing irregularities in language or action may be explained by the period represented, for the time is that of the early years of the reign of the young monarch, Philip IV, a brilliant though corrupt epoch of Spanish history well worthy of a moment's notice.

Philip III died in 1621, leaving the vast realm which he had inherited from his father, the gloomy though mighty Philip II, to his son, a youth of sixteen years, who came to the throne under the title of Philip IV. If Philip III was ruled by Lerma and Uceda, Philip IV, in his turn, was completely under the domination of the unprincipled Olivares, and his accession initiated one of the most interesting and most corrupt reigns that Spain has ever known. Philip himself was weak and pleasure-loving, but has never been regarded as perverse, and Olivares was ambitious and longed to rule Spain as the great Cardinal was ruling France. To achieve this end he isolated the monarch from every possible rival and kept him occupied with all sorts of diversions. At an early age Philip had been married to Isabel de Bourbon, daughter of Henry IV of France, and she was an unconscious tool in the hands of Olivares, for she was as light and as fond of pleasures as the king. Trivial incidents in royal circles were sufficient excuse to provide the most lavish celebrations and expenditures, illy authorized by the depleted condition of the royal exchequer. The external conditions of the kingdom were momentarily favorable for such a period as that through which the country was passing, for Spain was at peace with all the world. The Netherlands and other continental possessions were placated by concessions or temporarily quieted by truces, and the American possessions were prosperous and contributed an enormous toll of wealth to the mother-country. Madrid, with all its unsightliness, was one of the most brilliant courts of Europe and attracted to itself the most gifted subjects of the realm. Encouraged by the king's love of art and letters, the great painters like Velázquez and Ribera vied with each other in creating masterpieces for princely patrons, and great authors like Lope, Quevedo, and Calderón sharpened their wits to please a literary public. This cosmopolitan society furnished abundant food for observation and an inexhaustible supply of interesting personages for the dramatist.

Since Lope de Vega had no classic rules to observe and was limited in his composition only by popular tastes, he could without offense take his characters from whatever class of society he wished so long as his choice was pleasing to the audience, which, it happens, was not easily offended. Like Shakespeare, he brings upon the stage illiterate servants to mix their rude speech and often questionable jests with the grave and lofty or poetic utterances of their noble or royal masters. His characters, too, were not limited to any fixed line of conduct, as long as honor was upheld. They could be creatures of passion or impulse who gave expression to the most violent or romantic sentiments, mingling laughter and tears with all the artlessness of children. Therefore we may expect the most divergent interests and the most complex combinations of aims and actions of which the popular reason is capable of conceiving.

On the Spanish stage, woman had always had a secondary rôle, not only because she was not fully appreciated, but also because the rôle was usually taken by boys, for women were long prohibited from the stage. "Lope, the expert in gallantry, in manners, in observation, placed her in her true setting, as an ideal, as the mainspring of dramatic motive and of chivalrous conduct."[10] Doña María is a type of Spanish woman of which history furnishes numerous parallels. Her family name had suffered disgrace and her own father was crying out for an avenger; there was no one else to take up the task, she eagerly took it upon herself and punished her suitor with the death she thought he deserved. Then to escape arrest she fled in the guise of a servant girl, which was in fact a very natural one for her to assume, for even at the present time no high-born young Spanish woman would dare to travel unattended and undisguised through her native land; besides, to do so would have revealed her identity. Once located in the capital, she becomes an ideal Spanish servant girl, performing well the duties imposed upon her, gossiping with those of her assumed class, breaking the heads of those who sought to molest her, usually gay and loquacious, but, when offended, impudent and malicious. That she does things unbecoming of her true rank only shows how well she carries out her assumed rôle; that she was not offensive or contrary to Spanish tastes of the times is proved by the fact that, although she was a Guzmán and consequently a relative of the ruling favorite, Olivares, the play did not fall under royal censure. Her versatility and just claim to her high position are emphasized by the ease with which she assumes her own rank at the close of the play.

Don Juan, the hero of the play, while he pales somewhat before the brilliant, protagonistic rôle of the heroine, represents on a lesser plane Lope's conception of the true Spanish gallant, whom the poet often pictures under this name or that of "Fernando" and not infrequently lets his personality show through even to the extent of revealing interesting autobiographical details.[11] That Lope did not approve entirely of the higher social life of his time is brought out all through the play and revealed in the hero, for the contemporaries and friends of the latter considered him an original. But in him we find more nearly the common Spanish conception of chivalry and honor.

Breathing his love in poetic musings, eating out his own heart in sleepless nights and in anxious waitings for his lady-love by the fountain in the Prado or at the lavaderos along the banks of the Manzanares, refusing wealth and spurning position gained at the price of his love, preserving an unrivaled fidelity to his friend and kinsman, but finally consenting to sacrifice his love for the honor of his name and family, Don Juan is the embodiment of Spanish chivalry of all ages. That the poet makes him love one apparently on a lower social plane illustrates his power of discrimination and magnifies these virtues rather than diminishes them.

Don Bernardo, of whom we see but little, recalls don Diègue of Corneille, to whom he is directly related, for Guillén de Castro is a worthy disciple of Lope de Vega and wrote many plays, including las Mocedades del Cid, in his manner, and Corneille's indebtedness to the former is too well known to need explanation. More violent than Don Diègue, who is restrained by the decorum of the French classic theater, more tearful than Don Diego of las Mocedades, who, after a passionate soliloquy, rather coolly tests the valor of his sons, ending by biting the finger of "el Cid," Don Bernardo appears first upon the stage in tears and frequently, during the only scene in which he figures, gives way to his grief. The comparison of the three is interesting, for all three had suffered the same insult; but before we judge Don Bernardo too hastily, we should consider that both the other two are making their appeals to valiant men, while he is appealing to a woman, and not appealing for vengeance as they, but rather lamenting his hard lot. Don Diègue and Don Diego impress us by the gravity of their appeals, while Don Bernardo arouses our sympathy by his senility—old Spanish cavalier, decorated with the cross of Santiago, that he is!

If we make Don Juan the impersonation of Lope's idea of chivalry, we may well interpret el Conde and Doña Ana as representing his appreciation of his more sordid contemporaries; both are actuated by motives of interest and are not scrupulous enough to conceal it. The poet is far too discreet to hold either up to ridicule, yet he makes each suffer a keen rebuff. Both are given sufficient elements of good to dismiss them at the close with the partial realization of their desires.

One character particularly local to Spanish literature is the Indiano. In general usage the term is applied to those who enter Spain, coming from the Latin-American countries, though properly it should include perhaps only natives of the West Indies. Since an early date, however, the term has been applied to Spaniards returning to the native land after having made a fortune in the Americas. In the early years of the seventeenth century, when the mines of Mexico and South America were pouring forth their untold millions, these Indianos were especially numerous in the Spanish capital, and Lope de Vega, with his usual acute perception ready to seize upon any theme popular with the public, gave them a prominent place in his works. Sometimes they appear as scions of illustrious lineage, as Don Fernando and the father of Elena in la Esclava de su Galán, and again they figure as the object of the poet's contempt, as the wealthy merchant, Don Bela, in la Dorotea. In the present instance the Indiano is a bigoted, miserly fellow who seeks, at the least possible cost, position at the Spanish court and who employs doña María largely for motives of interest rather than through sympathy for her poverty-stricken condition. Later, at Madrid, he exhibits himself in a still more unfavorable light, and ends by driving her from his service, of which incident she gives a highly entertaining, though little edifying, narration.

The last characters in the play who need occupy our attention are Martín and Pedro, the graciosos. This very Spanish personage dates, in idea, back to the servants of the Celestina and to the simple of Torres Naharro, but in the hands of Lope he is so developed and so omnipresent that he is justly accredited as a creation of the great "Fénix."[12] Martín, the clever but impudent servant, is the leading character in the secondary plot and the only one to whom prominence is given. He acts as a news-gatherer for his master and, while thus occupied, he falls in love with Leonor, who does not seem to prove for him a difficult conquest. With characteristic Spanish liberty he advises his masters freely and is generally heeded and mixes in everything his comments, which, while not always free from suggestiveness, are filled with a contagious levity. Pedro, the lackey suitor of doña María, known to him as Isabel, is the prototype of the modern "chulo" whose traits can be traced in his every word and action. Disappointed in his love-making, he loses none of his characteristics of braggadocio and willingly assumes the rôle of defender of Isabel although he himself has been maltreated by the bellicose "moza de cántaro."