Chapter 15

_F._ Now despair I utterly, Yes, I am most desperate, And good and ill come all too late. For thy father has married thee 295 To Gonçalo, and desolate I here remain, alone, deserted, Nothing of thee left to me But to be thus broken-hearted. And another's shalt thou be, 300 Taken to another place, And I, by the Devil's grace, Promise that I instantly Will a monk become: in fine So much of thee shall be mine 305 In imagination's play As was given me on that day When thine eyes began to shine.

_C._ Nay, but give me thy hand instead And I will say that I am wed.

310 _F._ Alas I have nothing now to give. My promise is already said That I will in a convent live.

_C._ How many perils mar the peace Of this gloomy sea of love, 315 From day to day they still increase And its tempests greater prove. If a monk then thou must be Husband mine will ne'er be seen: If a monk thou must be, for me 320 Thou leavest of necessity The fate of Dido, hapless queen.

_F._ Thou wilt find no sure escape With Gonçalo not to marry, For whatever plans thou shape 325 Thou wilt never round the cape And thy father the day will carry.

_C._ O deliver us from ill! May such never be my lot, For Gonçalo loves me not, 330 And Gonçalo I love less still. But there he comes, see, Ferdinand, Above there in the mountain pass, And Madanela goes before, She it is that he searches for.

335 _F._ Behind this hedge here we will stand And listen to them as they pass And we will see what's in his mind And if to thee he be inclined Or if thou art given o'er.

340 _Enter Madanela, singing, and behind her Gonçalo:_

(_Song:_)

When here below there's rain and snow What will it be on the mountain-height? On the hills of Coimbra 'twas snowing 345 and raining, What will it be on the mountain-height?

(_Spoken:_)

Gonçalo, what is your pretence?

_G._ Madanela, Madanela!

350 _M._ Go back at once, I say, go hence, Since thou hast so little sense.

_G._ Madanela, Madanela!

_M._ What another plague is here, What annoyance, by my soul! 355 What, wouldst thou now follow me?

_G._ I suppose I need not fear That thou shouldst eat me whole. But if me thou wouldest kill Because of this my love for thee 360 Not serious surely is thy will.

_M._ Gonçalo, go back, go back to thy plough, For all this is but vanity.

_G._ What reason canst thou give me now To refuse to marry me? 365 I shall have of wheat enow And thy life with me shall be As a goldfinch's free from toil. I will not have thee hoe the soil, I will not have thee work in the sun, 370 But thou shalt sit and take thy ease And by me all the work be done. Art thou willing, Madanela?

_M._ Gonçalo, go back, go back to thy plough, With none will I marry, I avow, 375 In the whole Serra da Estrella, In vain wilt thou persist and tease. Catalina is a very good girl And fair enough, though not a pearl, Comes of good stock and loves thee well, 380 And she is very sensible. Then take what's offered thee and so Shalt balm of thy desire know.

_G._ Nay, but I pray thee do not seek To teach my heart what way to go.

385 _M._ Go hence, if nonsense thou must speak.

_G._ I say I will not marry her.

_M._ And I will not marry thee. But yonder comes Rodrigo, see, After Felipa, and I aver 390 That not a fig for him cares she.

_Enter Rodrigo, singing:_

My love, let's be going, be going together, Be going together. Rodrigo and Felipa were crossing the river, My love, let's be going. 395 How is it, Felipa, with thee?

_F._ And what business is that of thine? Days past I've bidden thee thy chatter To thy father to confine.

_R._ But that, my dear, does not suit me.

400 _F._ And why drag me into the matter?

_R._ Felipa, turn thy eyes this way And give me that fair hand of thine.

_F._ Away, away with thee, I say, What art thou to me, in the name of evil?

405 _R._ So, Felipa, thou art here, I see.

_F._ Rodrigo, wouldst thou begin again? If ever there was feather-brain, But I would not be uncivil.

_R._ Would then that thou mightest be 410 Now less shrewish and unkind. Yet even that is to my mind, So charming art thou unto me So graceful and so fair to see.

_F._ Everyone should regulate 415 At reason's bidding his request, Thou my heart requirest But I cannot give thee that Nor listen to thee save in jest. And as to my marrying I wis, 420 Although I keep the sheep, withal An honoured judge my father is And by his side the rest are small, He's best related of them all. At Court too he's been many a day 425 And the king once spoke to him, to say: 'In the district of Monsarraz And Fronteira, Affonso Vaz, What is the price of wheat, I pray?' So that here to marry would be for me, 430 Rodrigo, to act unreasonably.

_R._ Shouldest thou a courtier marry What amusement unto me And consolation that would carry! For if as a country-lout he harry 435 Thee all day and for evermore, Would I, what though my heart should grieve, Rejoice, since, though I thee adore, Me thus contemptuously dost thou leave, And if he bid thee keep thy place 440 As being but of low degree: Since thou despisest such as me Thee shall the mighty then abase.

_F._ When I see a courtier fine With his velvet slippers, and 445 His viola in his hand, 'Tis all up with this heart of mine Nor can I his ways withstand.

_R._ Gonçalo, come help me now At the labour of my plough 450 And I'll help thee anon with thine. For as to the other 'twill be in fine When its fortune shall allow.

_G._ As for Madanela, I Have ceased at last my luck to try.

455 _R._ Ah! then the same thing it must be As with Felipa and me.

_G._ Yes, 'tis even so we stand.

_R._ And how is't with thee, Ferdinand?

_F._ I am in both smiles and frowns, 460 And a lover's life is planned In a maze of ups and downs.

_Enters a hermit who says:_

_H._ Shepherds, for love of God, on me Pray bestow your charity.

_R._ Rather him it now behoves 465 Charitable towards us to be And tie the knots of all our loves.

_H._ Marrying is in God's hand And from Him comes fortune too, For by His especial grace 470 All men fortune may embrace And good sense assists thereto. Place yourselves beneath His sway, Take not any thought to choose But receive what comes your way, 475 For these idle loves, I say, You'll in sure repentance lose. Your names, my daughters, here you leave; My sons, now each your lot receive: Behave yourselves in such a sort 480 That you your infinite thanks shall give To God, and to the King and Court.

_The hermit takes from his sleeve three small written pieces of paper and gives them to the shepherds that each may take his lot, and Ferdinand says:_

Rodrigo shall the first lot claim. We'll see now if he acts aright.

_R._ In the Virgin Mary's name 485 Read it, padre, for the same Brings to me my day or night.

_The hermit reads the writing:_

'By Fortune's and by God's command Whosoever draws this lot Shall to Felipa give his hand, 490 Shall do so and reason not.'

_R._ I have won the victory, Felipa, come hither to me, my dear.

_F._ Away with thee, away, dost hear, Thinkest thou this will profit thee? 495 Ne'er such a victory shalt thou see.

_G._ Draw thy lot now, Ferdinand, Let's see what for thee is planned.

_F._ Here goes then in the name of Heaven; Read, padre, what is written there.

_The hermit reads:_

500 'The sentence is already given And its substance doth declare That thou shalt Madanela wed.'

_M._ Well, Ferdinand, I do not care, If it must be so, no more be said.

505 _F._ Many a day hast thou heard that from me But thou e'er hadst me in disdain.

_C._ O Ferdinand, my uncle's swain, Would that I might marry thee!

_G._ O Madanela, if only now 510 We had come together, I and thou.

_C._ Rather might I straight expire Than that Ferdinand should stay there So remote from my desire. Yet I do not greatly care, 515 Since to thee I am inclined, Gonçalo.

_G._ And even so, Catalina, art thou to my mind, But come away that I may know What graces I in thee shall find.

520 _F._ Rodrigo, as I look upon thee I begin to grow content.

_R._ If to that I have not won thee By me no further prayers be spent. For while I have courted thee 525 Daily hast thou flouted me.

_C._ Though from time to time I thus, Rodrigo, behaved, truly Very fond was I of thee. And when most contemptuous 530 Thy wife I refused to be 'Twas not that I had no love But, that I tested thee, to prove The heart of thy audacity.

_Hermit._ Now I have a mind to say 535 What I came to look for here. For my wish it is to stay In a hermitage that may Yield me plenty of good cheer. Ready-made would I find it: ill 540 Could I all these joys fulfil Worn out by toil and labour fell. Wide not narrow be my cell That I may dance therein at will; Be it in a desert land 545 Yielding wine and wheat alway, With a fountain near at hand And contemplation far away. Much fish and game in brake and pool Must I have for my own preserve 550 And as for my house it must never swerve From an even temperature, cool In summer and in winter warm. Yes, and a comfortable bed Would not do me any harm, 555 All of it of cedar-wood, A harpsichord hung at its head: So do I find a monk's life good. I would lie and take my rest And sleep on far into the day 560 So that I could not my matins say For noise of the whistling and the singing Of shepherdesses' songs clear ringing. On partridge would I sup and dine, Of stockfish should my luncheon be 565 And of wine the very best. And the Judge's daughter should make for me The bed on which I would recline. And even as my beads I tell She should forget her flock of sheep 570 And embrace me in my cell And bite my ears and make me weep: Yes, even thus it would be well. My brothers, since you know, I trow The recesses of each vale and hill 575 Be good enough to tell me now Where best I may so have my will And this holy life fulfil.

_G._ Yonder, padre, there's a briar All in flower, thick and green, 580 And its thorns are long and dire: Naked laid thereon, I ween You would soon lose your desire. Go and make no further stay, For the life you wish to live 585 The true God will never give Howsoe'er for it you pray.

_Serra._ Come, my sons, now come away, Each with his fair bride to-day, That our Queen and Sovereign we 590 May go visit speedily, And let none of you gainsay, For you must go all together, Since, if report say true, I ween I as nurse must serve the Queen 595 And therefore do I go thither. Such milk as mine you will not find No, not in all Portugal, So plentiful and such kind As God has blessèd me withal: 600 Pure butter were not more refined. And since she will be princess Of such flocks and all this land, No other nurse shall be to hand, For the perfect shepherdess 605 My hill-sides alone command.

_G._ From every village, house and town Great presents must with us come down.

_S._ The town of Sea of its store Shall five hundred cheeses send 610 All home-made, and furthermore Of calves will she send thrice five score And of her merino sheep A thousand, and lambs two hundred keep So fat that on no hills you'll find 615 Any more unto your mind. And two thousand sacks Gouvea Of chestnuts that there abound Of such size, so fine and round That all men will wonder where 620 Things so excellent are found. And Manteigas will prepare A store of milk for years twice seven, By Covilham much fine cloth be given That is manufactured there. 625 From the houses in the heather High upon the mountain-top, For pillows shall be sent a crop All of royal eagles' feather That men there are wont to gather. 630 From the Penados vale below And the hills where three roads meet That through rough mountain country go They will send as present meet Three hundred ermines white as snow 635 As edging of brocades to show. Mines of gold too I will bring And give all I have within If the Queen and if the King Order it to be brought in: 640 Plenty is there there to win.

_G._ And with presents none the less Will we in her honour sing With great joy and revelling That God hath willed the Queen to bless 645 For her people's happiness.

_Enter two players from Sardoal, Jorge and Lopo, and the Serra says:_

From Castille, brothers, do you hale Or from down yonder in the vale?

_J._ Now in the devil's name, amen, They would have us be Castilian men 650 A lizard I would rather be By the Holy Gospels verily.

_S._ Well and from what land come you then?

_J._ From Sardoal, and by your leave We are come hither to defy 655 The Serra our challenge to receive With us in song and dance to vie.

_R._ 'Tis a proud challenge for your ill, For shepherds are so many here And their dancing of such skill 660 That of none need they have fear.

_L._ Many peasants come yonder too From the hills for sustenance And we watch them sing and dance Even as up here they do: 665 Their way of it shall you see at a glance.

_Lopo sings and dances in imitation of the men of the Serra:_

Ah, should I lay my hand on you, Love, fair my love. A friend of mine, a friend of old, Sends unto me apples of gold, 670 How fair is love! A friend I loved, even my friend, Apples, apples of gold doth send. So fair is love! Apples of gold he sends amain, 675 The best of them was cleft in twain, So fair is love! [Apples of gold he sends to me, The best was cleft for all to see. How fair is love!]

(_Spoken:_)

680 That I think is, well or ill, How you dance on fell and hill. _S._ But now I would have you sing As in Sardoal they do. _L._ That is quite another thing, 685 Wait then and I'll show it you: Now no more my lady wills That I speak with her alone. How am I now woe-begone! On a day my lady said 690 That she would fain speak with me, Now I for my sins atone Since she says it may not be. How am I now woe-begone! For to me my lady said 695 That she fain would speak with me, Now I for my sins atone Since me now she will not see. How am I now woe-begone! Now I for my sins atone 700 Since she says it may not be, Through the world will I begone Where'er fortune carry me. How am I now woe-begone!

_The players sing this song, dancing together, and when it is finished Felipa says:_

I pray you go not away so, 705 But wait until the fiddle come, O wait until you hear the drum, Then how to move you'll scarcely know So dead with dancing shall you go.

_C._ And meanwhile by my life I ween 710 'Twere well that we our dance and song Should order here upon the green And we will go with it along To see the King and see the Queen.

_All these shepherds took their places in the dance after their custom, but its song was sung to the accompaniment of the organ and with the following words:_

O strike me not, mother, 715 The truth I'm confessing. For, mother, a squire Of our queen all on fire With love came to woo me: Of what he said to me 720 The truth I'm confessing. He came for to woo me And 'O,' said he to me, 'Were you in my power, Alone without dower!' 725 The truth I'm confessing.

_And with this dance they went out and the play ended._

¶ LAUS DEO.

NOTES

AUTO DA ALMA

PAGE 1

The _Auto da Alma_, produced probably in 1518, which in some sense forms a Portuguese pendant to the _Recuerde el alma_ of Jorge Manrique (1440?-79), is a Passion play, corresponding to the modern _Stabat_ on the eve of Good Friday, and was suggested, perhaps, by Juan del Enzina's _Representacion a la muy bendita pasion y muerte de nuestro precioso Redentor._ It was not, however, acted in a convent or church, but in the new riverside palace which saw so many splendid _serões_ during King Manuel's reign (1495-1521). King Manuel was now in the full tide of prosperity. His sister, Queen Lianor or Eleanor (1458-1525), Gil Vicente's patroness, who so keenly encouraged Portuguese art and literature, was the widow (and first cousin) of his predecessor, King João II. The theme of the play, the contention of Angel and Devil for the possession of a human soul, was far from new. Its treatment, however, was original and the versification is clear-cut and well sustained throughout, while a deep sincerity and glowing fervour raise the whole play to the loftiest heights. The metre is mostly in verses of seven short (8848484) lines (_abcaabc_) with an occasional slight variation. There is a French version of the play, presumably in verse (see _Durendal_, No. 10: Oct. 1913: _Le Mystère de l'Âme_; tr. J. Vandervelden and Luis de Almeida Braga), but the difficult task of translating it would require, to be successful, the delicate precision of a Théophile Gautier. In his hands it might have become in French a thing of beauty and a joy for ever, as it is in the original Portuguese. As to the text, without emulating the pedantry of the critic who added a fourth season to Shelley's three, and thereby provoked a splendid outburst of wrath from Swinburne, we may assume that in passages where Vicente appears to have gone out of his way to avoid a required rhyme, this is merely a case of corruption repeated in successive editions. Thus in the _Auto Pastoril Portugues_, where _Catalina minha dama_ rhymes with _toucada_ we may perhaps substitute _fada_ for _dama_. (Cf. _Serra da Estrella_, l. 530: _amigo_ for _marido_.) So here verse 114 must read _tristeza_, not _tristura_, to rhyme with _crueza_. In 3 one of the _mantimentos_ should perhaps be _alimentos_: see Lucas Fernández, _Farsas_ (1867), p. 247 (cf. the two _vaydades_ in 14); in 26 _fortunas_ should probably read _farturas_ (cf. _essas farturas_ in the _Dialogo sobre a Ressurreiçam_); in 35 the words _mui fermosos_, or a single longer word, have evidently dropped out; in 54 _tendes_ was perhaps an alteration by some critic who did not realize that the Angel might naturally associate itself with the Church (or with the Soul) and say _temos_; the last line of 100 was perhaps the word _pecadora_ or _e senhora_ (cf. Fr. Luis de León, _Los Nombres de Cristo_, Bk I: _mi única abogada y señora_); in 108 also a line is missing and a rhyme required for _figura_ (_lavrado_ must go with _Deos_, _triste_ with _vereis_, omitting _seu_). On the other hand it is hardly necessary to alter 42 or 45 (although here _esmaltado_ is in the air) or 46 so as to make them exactly fit the metre.

1 _perigos dos immigos_, cf. _Os Trabalhos de Jesus_, 1665 ed. p. 94: _o caminho do Ceo he cercado de inimigos e perigos para o perder. Qualibus in tenebris vitae quantisque periclis Degitur hoc aevi quodcunque est!_

7 Cf. Newman, _The Dream of Gerontius_, l. 292 _et seq._:

O man, strange composite of heaven and earth, Majesty dwarfed to baseness, fragrant flower, etc.

7-10 These exquisite verses have something of the scent and perfection of wild flowers, and that mystic rapture which is not to be found in Goethe's more worldly _Faust_. We may, if we like, call the _Auto da Alma_ (as also the witch-scene in the _Auto das Fadas)_ a 16th century _Faust_, but really no parallel can be drawn between the two plays. The ethereal beauty of Vicente's lyrical _auto_, carved in delicate ivory, is far less varied and human: it has scarcely a touch of the cynicism and not a touch of the coarseness of Goethe's splendid work cast in bronze. It can be compared at most with such lyrical passages as _Christ ist erstanden_ or _Ach neige, Du Schmerzenreiche, Dein Antlitz gnädig meiner Not_, and as a whole is a mere lily of the valley by the side of a purple hyacinth.

9 _Planta sois e caminheira_. Cf. the white-flowered 'wayfaring tree.'

16-17 This passage resembles those in the Spanish plays _Prevaricación de Adán_ and _La Residencia del Hombre_ quoted in the _Revista de Filología Española_, t. IV (1917), No. 1, p. 15-17.

17 Cf. _The Dream of Gerontius_, l. 280 _et seq._: 'Then was I sent from Heaven to set right, etc.'

18 _porá grosa_, attack, criticize, gloss. (= _glosar_. Cf. the modern 'to grouse.')

35 Cf. Antonio Prestes, _Auto dos Cantarinhos_ (_Obras_, 1871 ed. p. 457): _todo Valença em chapins_. The _chapim_ was rather a high-heeled shoe than a slipper. The reference is to the Spanish city Valencia del Cid. Cf. Fr. Juan de la Cerda ap. R. Altamira, _Historia de España_, III, 728: 'En una mujer ataviada se ve un mundo: mirando los chapines se verá a Valencia'; Alonso Jerónimo de Salas Barbadillo in _El Cortesano Descortés_ (1621) speaks of 'un presente de chapines valencianos'; and in _La Pícara Justina_ (1912 ed. vol. I, p. 70) we have 'un chapin valenciano.'

38 _marcante_. In the _Auto da Feira_ the Devil is similarly a _bufarinheiro_ (pedlar) and _mercante_.

43 _a for da corte_. _For_ = _foro_ (v. Gonçalvez Viana, _A postilas_, vol. I, p. 353).

58 Cf. Plato, _Respublica_, 365: ̃̓αδικητέον κὰι θυτέον ̓απ̀ο τ̑ων αδικημάτων, κ.τ.λ. Vicente in his plays often inculcates the need of something more than a formal religion.

_xiquer_. Cf. _Auto da Barca do Inferno_: _Isto hi xiquer irá_.

59-60 These two verses are in the true spirit of Goethe's Mephistopheles.

62 _esta peçonha_. Would Vicente have written thus (cf. 66 and _Obras_, III, 344, sermon addressed to Queen Lianor; and also Garcia de Resende, _Miscellanea_, 1917 ed. p. 50) of the soul had there been the slightest gossip or suspicion that his patroness, Queen Lianor, had poisoned her husband? (See the most interesting studies in _Critica e Historia_, por Anselmo Braamcamp Freire, vol. I. Lisbon, 1910.)

71 Cf. _The Dream of Gerontius_, l. 210-1:

Nor do I know my attitude, Nor if I stand or lie or sit or kneel.