Volume 2 / Book 1 — BOOK I. FROM THE END OF THE THIRTEENTH TO THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

RISE OF PORTUGUESE POETRY.

That songs in the Portuguese language were sung on the banks of the Tagus, before any kingdom of Portugal existed cannot be doubted. Indeed even Spanish writers, who have considered the question with impartiality, do not deny that Portuguese poetry flourished at an earlier period than the Castilian; and all accounts of the first dawnings of modern civilization in Portugal denote an original poetic tendency in the national genius. That destiny, however, by which Portugal has been from an early period politically severed from the other parts of the Peninsula could alone have prevented the Portuguese poetry from being like the Galician, completely absorbed and lost in the Castilian; for the Galician and Portuguese languages and poetry, were originally, and even after the separation of Portugal from the Castiles, scarcely distinguishable from each other.1

The foreigner, who is not prepossessed by any national partiality, in favour of either the Castilian or the Portuguese modifications of the Hispanic romance, might, perhaps, be induced to conclude that poetry would on the whole have sustained no essential loss, had the language of Portugal been rejected by literature, and reduced like the Galician dialect to the rank of a common popular idiom; for the Castilian poetry was from its origin, so closely allied to the Portuguese, that it is certain the former might easily have incorporated into itself the latter without producing the slightest inconsistency in any of its characteristic features. Still, however, to him who is capable of feeling the more delicate relations of the beautiful in nature and in art, it must be an increased pleasure to hear the same melody performed on two similar, yet differently constructed instruments. The historian of Portuguese literature ought, therefore, to direct his particular attention to those apparently unimportant, and yet in themselves very remarkable properties, whereby Portuguese poetry has in the varied progress of its cultivation more or less deviated from the Castilian, or, as it is now usually styled, the Spanish;2 and also to the manner in which the differences not only of the two sister languages, but of the two nations, whose respective characters are impressed on those languages, have constantly preserved the boundary which divides the polite literature of Portugal and Spain, and which must otherwise have soon been obliterated.

The harmonious softness of the Portuguese language, probably contributed no less to its early cultivation in general than to its applicability to poetry in particular. Even the characteristic nasal sound, which the pronunciation of this language has in common with the French, is in no way detrimental to the rhythm of the Portuguese syllables; for that rhythm, as in the Spanish and Italian languages, depends on a certain accentuation, which is a valuable remnant of the latin syllabic forms, and which is not, as in the French, annihilated by a new rule of orthoepy. That this ancient accentuation, and with it the groundwork of metrical perfectibility, should be preserved in the Portuguese language, is a circumstance rendered the more remarkable by that of a French prince having been the founder of the first dynasty of the kings of Portugal; for from this incidental occurrence, some critics and philologists have endeavoured to explain the similarity between the Portuguese and French pronunciation. The prince to whose influence this effect has been attributed is Henry of Burgundy, who was, in the year 1094, appointed, by his father-in-law, Alphonso VI. of Castile, governor of the country situated at the mouth of the Tagus, and who afterwards held that territory in sovereignty with the title of Count; but however numerous might be the noble families, brought by this prince from France to Portugal, neither he nor they could be able to produce an essential change in the national language among all classes of the people.3 Moreover the same dialect was and still is vernacular in Galicia, where no French prince ever ruled. It is however not a little extraordinary, that under the dominion and influence of French princes and nobles, Portuguese poetry should from its origin have preserved unimpaired those romantic national forms, in which it soon appeared perfectly to coincide with the Castilian poetry; for notwithstanding that most of the French nobles, who settled in Portugal, came from the south of France, whence they brought with them the genuine poetry of the Troubadours, still the introduction of that poetry did not impede the developement of those poetic forms, which constituted a common source of pleasure for the Portuguese, the Galician, and the Castilian.4

The favourable situation of Portugal could not fail to contribute in a considerable degree to the early developement of the Portuguese tongue. While the Castilians descending from their mountains, obtained no increase of wealth until they wrested it sword in hand from the Arabs, the Portuguese, particularly after they recovered possession of Lisbon, enriched themselves by the peaceful pursuits of trade and navigation. Lisbon soon became a flourishing commercial city; and the nation learned to unite civic industry with warlike achievements. The Portuguese, generally speaking, acquired a degree of practical dexterity which even to this day seems to distinguish them from the Spaniards, and which indeed is not sufficiently valued by the enemies of the Portuguese name, amongst whom must be more particularly included their Castilian neighbours. The benefits of civil industry, which were widely diffused from Lisbon, fortified in the Portuguese that feeling of self-esteem, which was necessary for the maintenance of their independence on so small a territory. In the reign of Alphonso I. the son of Henry of Burgundy, the Portuguese dominions acquired nearly their present extent by conquests made from the Moors, as far as the Algarvas. The romance dialect of Portugal now advanced southward into the conquered districts, and thus acquired the dignity of a prevailing national language, the formation of which proceeded from a great capital.

GONZALO HERMIGUEZ AND EGAZ MONIZ.

These circumstances may serve to explain how two Portuguese poets came to be celebrated at so early a period as the reign of Alphonso I. in the twelfth century. One of these poets is Gonzalo Hermiguez, and the other Egaz Moniz; two knights descended from the most distinguished families of the country. The verses of these ancient bards which have been preserved, are not wholly intelligible even to natives of Portugal.5 But though their meaning can only be partially conjectured, they nevertheless merit attention; for no Spanish cancion of that age, by any known author, now exists; and in these oldest records of Portuguese poetry, the germ of the common character and metrical form of the national songs of Spain and Portugal is plainly discernible. Gonzalo Hermiguez and Egaz Moniz wrote no rhymed chronicles or legends. They did not even compose in the Provençal metres. Their lyric effusions, which are popular songs in the proper sense of the term, are composed in short trochaic verses, precisely in the style of the well-known Spanish and Portuguese ballads of the fifteenth centuries. In the verses of Hermiguez scarcely any regular measure is discernible.6 But Egaz Moniz exhibits precisely that metrical form, for which, during some succeeding centuries the Portuguese and the Spaniards manifested a particular predilection.7

These oldest relics of lyric composition in the Portuguese language seem to confirm the opinion, that the prevailing tone of romantic love, which characterised the poetry of the Spaniards and Portuguese, until the imitation of the Italian style was generally adopted, originated in Portugal. To paint romantic despair, and all the storms of passion, combined with the deepest resignation, existing not only in fancy, but in real life, appears to have formed the poetic costume of chivalry in Portugal even earlier than in Spain. Thus, the susceptible Egaz Moniz is said to have survived only a short time the poetic expression of the anguish occasioned by the infidelity of his beloved Violante.

EARLY ESSAY IN EPIC POETRY.

In all literary probability, the Portuguese also preceded the Spaniards in essays in epic, or rather in historical poetry. An old Portuguese narrative in dactylic stanzas (versos de arte mayor), whose unknown author related, as well as he was able, the history of the conquest of Spain by the Moors, may not be so old as it is supposed to be by Manuel de Faria y Sousa, who would refer the origin of these verses to the very period of the Arabic invasion. They are, however, written in such antiquated language, that they may be regarded as of a date anterior to the Cantigas of Hermiguez and Moniz; and that they are the surreptitious fabrication of a later writer can scarcely be supposed, since no one could have hoped to acquire the least fame or reward by producing a counterfeit of so little value. No opinion could be formed of the merits of the whole narrative from the few stanzas, which are now extant, even though the language were more intelligible than it is.8

KING DINIZ.

In general all these remains of the most ancient Portuguese poetry must be considered only as first attempts. Throughout the whole of the thirteenth century, the poetic art in Portugal appears to have remained stationary in that degree of advancement to which it had arrived in the twelfth century. The language, however, became gradually more fixed and regular. In the latter half of the thirteenth century, king Diniz (Dionysius) of Portugal, promoted Portuguese literature in the same manner as his contemporary Alphonso the Wise, by his influence and example, improved the poetry of Castile. Diniz, like Alphonso, was himself a poet and a prose writer. His poetic compositions were, according to the fashion of the age, collected in Cancioneiros (song books), which bore the name of the author. But from the testimony of Portuguese writers, it appears that the poems of king Diniz are to be found only in old manuscripts. They cannot, however, be very few in number, for two Cancioneiros are named, one containing the spiritual, and the other the temporal works of the king. The first of these collections bears the singular title of Cancioneiro de Nossa Senhora (Our Lady’s Song book).9 King Diniz, in whose reign trade, and with it the third estate particularly, flourished in Lisbon, founded in the year 1290 the national university. This institution was first established in the capital, but it was soon transferred to Coimbra, where it is still maintained, in a great measure, according to its original forms. It is one of the oldest universities in Europe. No accounts have been preserved of any other Portuguese writers, who, following the example of their king, may have more or less distinguished themselves in the cultivation of the national poetry; though at this period celebrated names might the more naturally be expected, as two poets had flourished in the twelfth century. But the Portuguese bards, who, in the thirteenth century delighted their contemporaries by their poetic compositions, shared no better fate than the writers of the oldest Spanish canciones and romances.

POETS OF THE ROYAL FAMILY IN THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY.

The fourteenth century is not much richer than the thirteenth in names, which shed a lustre on the history of Portuguese poetry. Scarcely any writers of verse are recorded, except those who were members of the royal family, as if they were considered the representatives of all the contemporary poets of their nation. Alphonso IV. who reigned from 1325 to 1357, pursued with regard to poetry the same course as his father, King Diniz. Affonso Sanchez, a natural son of Diniz, appears to have been gifted with a similar poetic talent.10 But the writings of Affonso Sanchez are not now to be found even in manuscript; and those of King Alphonso IV. have never been printed. Pedro I., who was the son of this last mentioned sovereign, and whose unfortunate connection with the beautiful Inez de Castro, has given him a romantic celebrity, seems to have found the Castilian language, which then vied with the Portuguese in cultivation, as well adapted as his native tongue to the poetic expression of his feelings. A Castilian poem by Pedro I., which begins in short verses, like a cancion, and proceeds in the measure of the Italian canzone, has been preserved, in addition to some compositions in Portuguese, which are also attributed to that monarch.11 If Dom12 Pedro’s poem be authentic, it proves that the Italian poetry had an influence on the Portuguese, even at a period when the Castilian had not yet fully developed itself in the old national forms. But this early influence of Italian poetry is also proved by some Portuguese sonnets of the fourteenth or fifteenth century. An old sonnet, in praise of Vasco de Lobeira, the author of Amadis de Gaul,13 is by some writers ascribed to Alphonso IV., King of Portugal, and by others to the Infante Dom Pedro, the son of John I., who was born in the year 1392.14 It is scarcely worth while to enter into minute investigation merely for the purpose of settling this dispute. Admitting the problematic sonnet to be really the production of the Infante Dom Pedro, and therefore written, at the earliest in the commencement of the fifteenth century, it is certain that at that period no imitation of the Italian style was thought of in Castile. In Portugal, however, the metrical form of the sonnet was not only known, as it also was in Castile; but the Italian style was likewise imitated in sonnets. The Infante Dom Pedro translated some of Petrarch’s sonnets into Portuguese.15 It may therefore without hesitation be inferred that Dom Pedro, who has never been mentioned as having struck out a new path on the Portuguese Parnassus, merely followed the example of some of his countrymen who lived before him. It is probable, that the mercantile intercourse between Lisbon and the ports of Italy, made the Portuguese early acquainted with Italian literature. But at the period now under consideration, the imitation of the Italian style appears to have been very limited in Portugal; for the old lyric poetry in the national style, began about this time more particularly to unfold its characteristic beauties. According to the testimony of a Spanish writer,16 the Portuguese Cancioneiro Geral contains some poems of the fourteenth century, with the names of the authors affixed to them.

CHRONICLES IN PROSE.

In the fourteenth century too, Portuguese prose improved in precision, after a certain degree of literary consideration had been given to it, in consequence of chronicles being written in the national language. From this period the Portuguese vied with the Castilians in the patriotic task of recording the memorable events of their national history. The style of the Portuguese chronicles of the fourteenth century is, however, completely in the chronicle manner.17 Indeed the Portuguese literature of the fourteenth century presents no prose work, which in point of style equals those written during that period, in the Castilian language, by the Infante Juan Manuel.

INTIMATE CONNECTION OF THE PORTUGUESE AND GALICIAN POETRY—THE GALICIAN POET MACIAS.

In Portugal as in Spain the fifteenth century was the period during which the old national songs and romances flourished in the greatest luxuriance. Since that time Portuguese and Spanish poetry have in general occupied the same degrees of cultivation, and have lent to each other a mutual support, though neither stood in need of the other’s aid. The correspondence between the Castilian and the Portuguese poetry, was at that time particularly promoted by the Galician poets, who though faithful subjects of the Castilian monarchy, still remained true to their mother tongue. Galicia seems to have been the land of romantic sentiment whence the poetry of love exhibited in the lyric compositions of Spain and Portugal was transplanted. No Portuguese or Spaniard is so celebrated in poetic literature, for the influence of love on his fate, as the Galician poet and knight Macias, who lived in the first half of the fifteenth century, and of whose remarkable history a brief sketch may properly be introduced here. Macias, who obtained the surnames of the enamoured and the great, distinguished himself as a brave warrior against the Moors of Granada, and as an accomplished writer in the literary retinue of the Marquess of Villena.18 But though the marquess appreciated the merits and talents of Macias, he did not approve the romantic passion with which that enthusiast interwove his poetic fancies into the affairs of real life. The marquess strictly prohibited him from continuing a secret intrigue in which he had embarked with a lady, who, through the intervention of the marquess, had become the wife of another knight. But Macias conceived that he could not better prove his chivalrous constancy in love, than by boldly disobeying the commands of his patron. The marquess, however, availing himself of his power as grand master of the order of Calatrava, sent the refractory poet a prisoner to the kingdom of Jaen, on the frontiers of Granada. In his captivity Macias composed his songs of ill-fated love in the Galician language, which at the period of their production were highly esteemed, but which are now lost with the exception of a few trifles.19 He contrived to forward copies of these songs to his mistress. On the discovery of the correspondence, the poetic boldness of Macias roused the husband of the lady to the most furious pitch of jealousy. Armed cap-a-pee, he set out with the intention of slaying the unfortunate poet. He proceeded to the town of Arjonilla, where Macias was confined, and espying the prisoner at a window, he threw a javelin at him, and killed him on the spot. Some idea of the sensation which this affair produced may be formed from the contents of the old Spanish Cancionero, in which it is frequently mentioned. But the story has more properly its place in the history of Portuguese poetry. The Spanish amatory poets, however extravagant might be their extacies in verse, confined themselves, in real life, within certain boundaries, which were consistent with the habits of society. The Portuguese, on the contrary, and as it would appear, the Galicians likewise, when they indulged in the poetic expression of violent and enthusiastic feelings of love, conceived that it was still necessary they should seek to impress the stamp of perfection on their songs, by exhibiting all kinds of sentimental excesses in their own personal conduct. The Spaniards seem always to have felt convinced that they could not attain the romantic tenderness of the Portuguese.20 A certain simplicity and intensity in the expression of tender sentiments, to which the language of Portugal is particularly favourable, has always been one of the characteristic features of Portuguese poetry, from the fifteenth century down to the present times.

THE CANCIONEIROS GERAES.

But in order to pursue the comparison between the romance and lyric poetry of Portugal and of Spain, an intimate acquaintance with the old Portuguese Cancioneiros geraes (general song books), is indispensable. Collections of this kind seem to have appeared as early as the fifteenth century. Writers on literature, however, usually refer to the Cancioneiro, which was printed in the year 1516, by Garcia de Resende, a man of talent, who flourished at the courts of John II. and Emanuel the Great.21 A later collection of the same kind, which was edited by Father Pedro Ribeyro, professor of poetry, in the second half of the sixteenth century, has never yet been printed. The manuscript is dated 1577.22 According to the statements of writers who seem to have been acquainted with Garcia de Resende’s work, it would appear that this old Portuguese Cancioneiro contains many more poetic names than the better known Spanish collection of the same kind, and that among these names are several writers who lived in the fourteenth century.23 Here the author of this history of Portuguese literature, who has vainly endeavoured to render himself acquainted with Garcia de Resende’s interesting collection, must deplore that he is now compelled to leave a chasm which cannot be easily filled up; for this certainly is the place in which it would be most proper to endeavour to discover, in those features, which were doubtless common to all, or at least to most of the Portuguese lyric bards of the fifteenth century, the nature of the original difference of Portuguese and Spanish genius. It may, however, be presumed that the Portuguese poets, who were at this period so much more numerous than the Spanish, had advanced no farther than the latter in poetic refinement, for even Bernardim Ribeyro, called the Portuguese Ennius,24 who lived until the commencement of the sixteenth century, and who is more celebrated than any other poetic writer of the fifteenth century, does not surpass the authors of the old Spanish ballads, in any thing connected with the cultivation of genius and the improvement of poetic language. Thus in all literary probability the Portuguese Cancioneiro geral is merely a companion work to the Spanish collection. But the preponderating number of the poetic writers of Portugal, compared with those of Spain during the fifteenth century, is a circumstance particularly deserving of notice, since it proves that the soil of Portugal was then, as well as at an earlier period, even more fertile than Spain in poetic genius. Still, however, this indicates no peculiarly eminent talent. It is also but fair to observe, lest the superior number of the Portuguese poets, in proportion to the limited extent of their native land, should be too highly estimated, that in the fifteenth century, the Castilian monarchy was not what it now is; for it was bounded on the south by the Moorish kingdom of Granada, and on the east by the Arragonian dominions, where the Limosin language exclusively prevailed.

DEFICIENCY WITH REGARD TO HISTORICAL ROMANCES—LITTLE INFLUENCE OF THE CULTIVATION OF LATIN VERSE ON PORTUGUESE LYRIC POETRY.

Narrative and particularly historical romances seem never to have been so highly esteemed by the Portuguese as by the Spaniards. It is probable that in this class of composition the Portuguese merely imitated the Spaniards, whom they instructed, on the other hand, in bucolic poetry.25

The enthusiasm with which the Portuguese devoted themselves to the cultivation of lyric poetry in their native tongue, was not abated by the passion for latin poetry, which towards the close of the fifteenth century prevailed in Portugal as well as in Italy. This literary coincidence was probably occasioned by the commercial intercourse which then subsisted between Portugal and Italy. The fame of Angelo Poliziano attracted one of his most ardent admirers, the ingenious Henrique Cayado, better known by the name of Ermigius, from Portugal to Italy, where he entered the ranks of the revivers of latin poetry. Cayado was imitated by a considerable number of Portuguese writers who became celebrated for the composition of latin verse.26 But it does not appear that the national poetry, in the vernacular language, was in any way neglected or despised by the Portuguese nobility; and the favour of the great exercised a more powerful influence over the poetic spirit of the nation, than the example of the learned. There is also very little ground for supposing that the Portuguese writers endeavoured to form the romantic poetry of their country on the model of the antique. A correct notion of the essential distinction between romantic and classic composition secured at this period the Portuguese as well as the Italians against the introduction of incongruous and spurious forms in their poetry; and taste was not yet sufficiently cultivated to admit of a judicious union of the classic and the romantic styles.

EARLY CULTIVATION OF HISTORICAL PROSE.

The general improvement of the language, and the renewed intimacy with ancient literature, had even as early as the first half of the fifteenth century an advantageous influence on the Portuguese chronicle writers. At this period a very copious chronicle of the reign of King John I. of Portugal, was written in the Portuguese language, by a knight and statesman, named Fernando Lopes. This writer distinguished himself as early as the reign of King Duarte, or Edward, whose successor, Alphonso V. in the year 1449, conferred on him the dignity of Cronista, or state-historiographer.27 The narrative style of this diligent compiler is, indeed, quite as dull and monotonous as that of the older Portuguese chroniclers; but he obviously made efforts to express himself with a certain degree of dignity. He neglects no opportunity of making his historical characters deliver speeches, after the manner of the ancient writers; and a certain degree of energetic simplicity is to be found in some of those harangues.28

INCREASE OF PORTUGUESE POWER, FOLLOWED BY THE RAPID DEVELOPEMENT OF THE NATIONAL POETRY AT THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

Meanwhile the Portuguese monarchy approached the summit of its power and glory. While Spain, under the dominion of Ferdinand and Isabella, began to form itself internally into a single state, the government and people of Portugal directed their attention to discoveries and conquests in Africa and India. A peculiar union of the heroism of chivalry, and the industry of social life which prevailed in Portugal, under the auspices of her enterprising sovereigns, impressed on the nation a consciousness of power, in which the Portuguese were in no respect inferior to the Castilians. The flag of Portugal waved along the western coast of Africa, where Portuguese factories began to be converted into colonies, extending towards the Cape which Vasco de Gama doubled in the year 1498. In less than fifteen years after this memorable event, Portuguese valour, guided by the renowned leaders Francisco de Almeida and Alfonso de Albuquerque, succeeded in founding a kingdom in India, of which Goa was the capital. At this period, during the glorious reign of Emanuel, who in the series of Portuguese sovereigns is distinguished by the surname of the Great, no Spanish poet had attained so much celebrity as was enjoyed by the Portuguese Bernardim, or (according to the more ancient orthography of that name) Bernaldim Ribeyro. A comprehensive idea of the nature of that romantic spirit, which every Portuguese poet conceived himself bound to exhibit in the fulfilment of his poetic destination, may be gathered from an account of the life and writings of this extraordinary man.

BERNARDIM RIBEYRO.

This poet received such a literary education as was in those times required for the study of the law, and a subsequent residence at court. King Emanuel, conferred on him the appointment of moço fidalgo (gentleman of the chamber). Ribeyro found at the court of that sovereign an object capable of fixing his poetic fancy, but not his future happiness; for from that time forward the heart of this sentimental enthusiast appears to have been incessantly agitated by sad emotions. Portuguese writers insinuate that the Infanta Dona Beatrice, the king’s daughter, was the lady of whom the unfortunate Ribeyro was enamoured. It is evident from his writings, that he has studiously thrown a veil over the secret of his heart. We are not informed how he reconciled this passion with his domestic relations, or whether at the period of his marriage he had emancipated himself from those romantic illusions which at other times exercised so powerful a dominion over him. It is related that he frequently retired to the woods where he passed the night alone, singing to the murmuring brooks his songs of passion and despair. But it is also said that he tenderly loved his wife, and after her death showed no inclination to enter, a second time, into the married state. There is no possibility of reconciling these psychological inconsistencies, since it is not known at what period of his life Ribeyro retired from court. Neither is it recorded at what period or at what age he died. But that he cherished romantic fancies in real life, as well as in his poetry, is a fact which is sufficiently confirmed by the accounts which have been preserved of his conduct and by the general character of his writings.29

Among the poetic works of Ribeyro, so far as they are known, his eclogues are particularly distinguished. If not the very oldest, they are certainly among the most ancient compositions of the kind in Portuguese and Spanish literature; and when compared with those of Juan del Enzina, who flourished about the same time in Spain, they may, in every respect, claim the priority. Juan del Enzina ingeniously sported with simple ideas; but Ribeyro sang from his inmost soul. However, even Ribeyro is poor in ideas. His language and composition are very remote from classical correctness, and his prolixity is tedious. But amidst the monotony of Ribeyro’s homely verses, there appears a spirit of truth and poetic feeling, which no art or study could have produced. The eclogues, which are unquestionably the production of Ribeyro’s pen, are four in number; but a fifth in the same style is attributed to him. They are all composed in Redondilhas, arranged in stanzas of nine or ten lines each, called decimas. Like most compositions in the class to which they belong, these eclogues assume the form of tales; but the lyric garb in which the simple materials are clothed, is the most interesting circumstance of the whole. Ribeyro has described in his eclogues only the scenery of his native country. The Tagus, the Mondego, the sea on the coast of Portugal, and even sometimes the city of Coimbra, and other towns, are exhibited in a poetic point of view. The names usually given to the shepherds are, Fauno, Persio, Franco, Jano, Sylvestre; but among the shepherdesses we find, a Catharina and a Joana introduced. Certain peculiarities and mysterious allusions sufficiently betray the object of the poet, which was to represent the romantic situations and events of the fashionable circles in which he moved at the court of Lisbon, under the poetic disguise of situations and events of pastoral life. In conformity with the notions of the age, this kind of disguise was, from its affinity to allegory, highly valued; and it afforded the poet an opportunity of unfolding the sentiments of his heart, to the mistress whom he dared not name, without the fear of compromising either her or himself. Ribeyro’s fancy revelled in this union of truth and fact with truth of poetic feeling. The characters in all his eclogues are nearly the same under different names, and among them an unhappy lover is always the most conspicuous. The fervent expression of tenderness and despair on the part of the lover, forms the soul of these little pastoral pictures.

Ribeyro’s poetic style is in its principal features the old romance style, only here and there somewhat more luxuriant, and occasionally interspersed with antiquated conceits. The unaffected truth of some of the descriptions is heightened by a peculiar kind of rural grace,30 and even the uniform repetitions and plays of words in the lyric passages are, in general, not destitute of poetic interest.31 The enthusiast must be forgiven for the application, certainly not very ingenious, of his own name, which he has sometimes allegorically disguised by the word Ribeyra, (a river,) and sometimes introduced as the real name of a shepherd; but the shepherd is in the same way reminded of a beautiful river, which is intended as the allegorical representative of a lady, who under the name of Ribeyra, is the object of Ribeyro’s adoration.32 Some of these antiquated conceits are, however, dignified by warmth of expression.33 But upon the whole, Ribeyro’s eclogues are nothing more than the heartfelt effusions of a poet, who with all his tenderness and depth of sentiment had not sufficient energy to strike out a new course for himself.34

The Cantigas of Bernardim Ribeyro unquestionably bear the characteristic stamp of the fifteenth century. They may be ranked on an equality with the best pieces of the same kind in the old Spanish Cancionero. Like them they paraphrase an idea which is set down at the head of the poem, and thus appear in the form of glosses, without being confined within a certain number of lines. The idea is as in Spanish, called the mote (motto). That which the Spaniards term a glosa, is by the Portuguese denominated a volta (turn); and the title Cantiga, which the Portuguese give to a composition of this kind, seems, like the Spanish term Villancico, to have been borrowed from the ecclesiastical hymns.35 One of Ribeyro’s Cantigas is remarkable for the boldness with which the poet, in his character of a married man, very unequivocally marks the distinction between his wife and the lady who is the object of his regard, and assures this lady that only his hand and not his heart is wedded.36 If this Cantiga be really founded on truth, a question with which the critic has, generally speaking, little concern, it not only weakens the authenticity of the accounts respecting Ribeyro’s tender attachment to his wife, but also serves to explain the studied obscurity of the allusions which prevail throughout the whole of his writings; and in this last respect the question is of some interest to the critic. A sextina imitated from the Italian forms, but in trochaic verses, which are besides pure redondilhas, is likewise among the number of Ribeyro’s poems. In addition to these Cantigas, which are, however, but little known,37 there has been preserved a narrative romance of the idyllic kind, which by some favourable accident has even found a place in one of the old Spanish Cancioneros, where it is also attributed to Ribeyro.38 This romance, which is allegorical, contains plays on the name of Ribeyro, and veils the glowing anguish of the poet under a singular obscurity of ideas and images. The romantic mysticism and deep fervour of expression, which distinguish it, sufficiently attest its authenticity.39

But a work, by this author, which is of greater extent, and which exhibits the first remarkable attempt towards the improvement of romantic prose in the Portuguese language, remains to be noticed. This work is a kind of romance which Ribeyro appears to have written in his mature years, and which he did not complete. The name given to it Menina e Moça, (meaning “a young and innocent maiden,”) is a repetition of the three first words with which the story begins, and therefore is not susceptible of precise translation in the form of a title.40 In point of intricacy this fragment has no parallel in the whole range of romantic literature. The mysterious Ribeyro has here employed all the powers of his inventive fancy, in giving utterance to his enthusiastic feelings, and in minutely expressing the sentiments of his heart; while at the same time he has confounded and changed characters and events so as to secure every circumstance and allusion against malicious interpretation. Thus a reader in the nineteenth century is at a loss to unravel the entangled composition, and it being merely a fragment, is a circumstance which increases the difficulty. No alchymist ever bestowed more pains on the enigmatical dressing of his doctrine of the philosopher’s stone, than Ribeyro has taken to envelope his romance in a veil of obscurity. It is asserted, nevertheless, that with all this caution he was afraid to lay it openly before the public; and in fact the book did not become known until after his death. It is impossible to form any probable conjecture as to the ultimate object of the author. The commencement of the tale, or if it must be so called, the preface, is put into the mouth of a sentimental female character who has withdrawn from the gay world to a wild solitary spot on the Portuguese coast. This lady, whose name is not mentioned, relates that while she was yet Menina e Moça, she was carried from her father’s house to foreign lands. From that period, doomed to lead a life of wretchedness, alone, among the rugged cliffs, she bewails her never-ending sorrows, beholding only on the one hand the unchangeable mountain tops, and on the other the ever restless waves of the sea.41 In this manner the anonymous female continues her narrative, and describes her inconsolable condition. She states, that by way of amusement, though of a melancholy kind, she has devoted herself to the task of writing “this little book,” (este livrinho), which is intended to unfold her sufferings and her errors. From this introduction the reader impatiently expects the history of the nameless lady, who has now excited his interest. But here the confusion and intricacy commences. The supposed authoress states, that in her solitude she had discovered another lady no less unfortunate than herself. She introduces this lady, who in her turn begins to relate her history. This new character throws the first completely into the back ground. She expatiates on the virtues befitting knights and ladies, and sheds tears of regret for the departed days of chivalry. She states that the wild valleys to which she has retired, were once the scenes of memorable and brilliant events: and here the reader is again disappointed, for instead of relating her own adventures, as is naturally expected, she commences an intricate and romantic story of love and heroism, the period of which is laid in the ages of chivalry. This story is in fact the romance which Ribeyro wished to write. What the author intended by the two-fold frame-work of his romance, and the superfluous history related by the one lady to the other, is an enigma that cannot be solved without a knowledge of the private life of the poet, circumstances of which are supposed to be ingeniously concealed under these forms of art. Ribeyro very dextrously makes his fair narrator observe that, as a woman, she is not qualified to speak minutely, and at length concerning the achievements of knighthood; but that with respect to the affairs of the heart she is enabled to say all that is necessary. Thus he has spared himself the trouble of exercising his descriptive talent on a branch of the history, the details of which he was not inclined to follow.

It would be impossible to furnish an abstract of the tale of love and heroism which forms the subject of this romance. Even on a perusal of the whole, so great is the obscurity, that nothing can be comprehended of the circumstances, without the utmost effort of attention. That Ribeyro has clothed in the disguise of this story, the most interesting events of his own life, is a fact which admits of no doubt; for the contrivance which he adopted with the view of concealing his personal implication, by the intricate arrangement of his romance, is disclosed with the greatest simplicity. The really artless Ribeyro, having so far disguised himself, conceived that by transposing the letters of real names, he did all that was necessary to avoid compromising the individuals of his acquaintance, whom he introduced in his romance, arrayed in the garb of ancient chivalry. Thus Alvaro is converted into Avalor, Joana into Aonia, and Bernardim, the christian name of Ribeyro himself, is changed into Bimnarder and Narbindel. The unconscious simplicity of these transpositions corresponds with the whole tone and style of the romance. The monotony of incessant love complaints renders the prolixity of the narrative still more tedious; but even amidst that monotony and prolixity, it is easy to recognise a spirit truly poetic, more remarkable, however, for susceptibility than for energy. Some of the sentimental passages are distinguished by the charm of a most tender and pathetic sweetness. This characteristic appears even in the introduction, where a story is told of the death of a nightingale, which being perched on the branch of a tree overhanging a brook, dies while singing, and dropping into the brook is carried away by the current, along with the fallen leaves.42 The reader is surprised by these delicate plays of feeling, no less than by many occasional reflexions, which though trivial in the present day, were at the commencement of the sixteenth century by no means common. Thus allusion is made to the absurd notion of women in imagining they can secure the heart of a lover by the same persevering service which pleases themselves in the other sex.43 By traits of this kind, and by the simple truth of description, this old Portuguese romance is sufficiently distinguished from the common class of romances of chivalry, which during the sixteenth century, became in a great measure the fashionable reading of the Spaniards and Portuguese. Spanish literature at that period could not boast of any work written in so cultivated a style, and yet that style soon afterwards became somewhat antiquated. From some passages in which allusion is made to Galician phrases, it is evident that the Portuguese in the age of Ribeyro, carefully distinguished their native tongue as a cultivated language, from the Galician, which had now become a common popular idiom.

In the polite literature of Portugal, Bernardim Ribeyro stands on the boundary of the old national and the modern taste, which at the commencement of the sixteenth century, began to be developed in Portugal as well as in Spain, in consequence of the imitation of the Italian style. In spite of all their defects and deformities, Ribeyro’s verses as well as his prose romance, deserve to be honourably remembered, since they present remarkable monuments of the romantic character of the Portuguese at the period when the national greatness of that poetically organized people began suddenly to decline. A remnant of that character must, however, still be preserved, even by the Portuguese of the present day, otherwise a new edition of Ribeyro’s romance would not at the end of the eighteenth century, have been presented to the Portuguese public, as a proof of the excellence of a language in which such a work was written.44

CHRISTOVAÕ FALCAÕ.

Among the contemporaries of Ribeyro the most distinguished was Christovaõ Falcaõ, or Christovam Falcam. He was a knight of the order of Christ, an admiral, governor of Madeira, and a celebrated poet in the age in which he lived. A long eclogue by this writer, which forms an appendix to the works of Ribeyro,45 so completely partakes of the character of the poems which it accompanies, that were it not for the separate title it might be mistaken for the production of Ribeyro himself. It therefore proves that Ribeyro’s poetic fancies, his romantic mysticism, not excepted, were by no means individual. The fashionable form of the poetry of melancholy love in Portugal, was to complain and yet ostensibly affect to conceal itself. Thus, Christovaõ Falcaõ, by a slight change of his own christian name, gives the name of Crisfal to the shepherd who poetically represents himself. The subject of the poem is the love of Crisfal and Maria, the shepherdess who is the heroine of the eclogue. This shepherdess is evidently a real personage, and it is mentioned by writers on literature that the poet’s mistress had the same Christian name; she was a Maria Brandam. The rural scenery described in this eclogue, like that in the poems of Ribeyro, is all national: the Tagus, the Mondego, and the rocks of Cintra, are introduced here as in Ribeyro’s romance. The story is simple. Two lovers are separated by the severity of their parents. The shepherd relates his sorrows, and calls to mind his past days of happiness. This reminiscence gives birth to a kind of tale which is interwoven with the complaints of the shepherd. The verses are redondilhas, and the eclogue consists of upwards of ninety of the ten line stanzas called decimas, exclusive of some cantigas in shorter stanzas, which are interspersed through the work. The language and style, particularly in the lyric complaints, are even more antiquated than Ribeyro’s. The most truly beautiful portion of the poem is the description of a brief interview and renewed farewell between Crisfal and Maria,46 particularly towards the close.47 The poet throws a veil of mystery over the subsequent fate of Crisfal, and does not choose to hint whether the hapless shepherd survives. A nymph who has heard his complaints inscribes them on a poplar, in order, as it is said, that they may grow with the tree to a height beyond the reach of vulgar ideas.48 So delicate a winding up of the story would not have entered into the imagination of every amatory bard.

Portugal may therefore be regarded as the true native land of romantic pastoral poetry, which, however, about the same period flourished in Italy, where it assumed more cultivated forms, particularly after Sanazzaro had written; but in Portugal alone was it properly national. Two Portuguese writers, Saa de Miranda and Montemayor transferred this style of poetry to Spanish literature.49

Among the works of Falcam, there is a kind of poetic epistle, if it may be so called; but he wrote no didactic epistles. This poetic epistle is in fact merely a lyric romance, which the author has addressed to his mistress in the form of a letter, when, as the superscription expressly mentions, he had secretly married her contrary to the will of her parents; an act for which he incurred the penalty of five years imprisonment. From his prison he addressed verses to his lady.50 Thus it also appears that this Portuguese poet, who afterwards discharged, probably with honour to himself, the duties of admiral and governor, wished to make the same romantic principles the basis of his conduct and his writings.

OTHER ANCIENT LYRIC POEMS.

It is probable that the lyric pieces which are annexed to the old edition of the works of Ribeyro, and which immediately follow the poems of Falcam, were written by the latter. They belong entirely to the class of Villancicos in the Spanish Cancioneros. They are, for the most part, cantigas or glossed mottos; but some are entitled Esparças, or overflowings of the heart.51 In all these songs the plays of antiquated chivalrous wit are very affectedly blended with genuine effusions of the heart. They are, however, like the old Spanish canciones, throughout enlivened by a glimmering of poetic truth; and even the old fashioned conceits successfully contribute to express intensity of feeling. This is particularly the character of the mottos, which appear to be more remarkable for far-fetched quaintness, than the old Spanish compositions of a similar kind. The following may serve as examples:—“I saw the end at the beginning; I see the beginning at the end; so that I know not whether I am beginning or ending.”52 “Since in beholding you, lady, I have lost the knowledge of myself, do not you do against me, that which for your sake I have done against myself.”53 “At variance with myself, great is my danger, for I can neither live with myself nor fly from myself.”54 Some mottos are, however, expressed in a more simple and popular form; but it is remarkable that those which are most inartificial, or destitute of point, are precisely those of which the glosses are more particularly distinguished by nature and grace.55 The Portuguese of this age seem to have been much less disposed than the Spaniards to pourtray in their lyric poetry the continual conflict between passion and reason. Like the Italians the Portuguese gave free utterance to the emotions of the heart, and were only induced to seek after quaint ideas, by an eager desire that the vehemence and depth of their passionate feelings should be energetically and ingeniously expressed.

It would appear that at the commencement of the sixteenth century the romantic pastoral and lyric styles were the only species of poetic composition to the cultivation of which the Portuguese directed their attention. No evidence appears to exist of any remarkable essay in dramatic poetry, before the time of Gil Vicente, who will hereafter be noticed. It is probable that unimportant treatises on poetry and versification, in the style of that which Juan del Enzina wrote in Spanish, existed at the same period in the Portuguese language; and on a comprehensive view of the polite literature of Portugal, previous to the introduction of the Italian style, it will be found that like the true sister of Spanish literature, it was, in an equal degree, susceptible of the reform which presented itself to both.