Volume 3 — APPENDIX. (continued 2)

Thus much for the external evidence, the whole of which, I believe, I have examined. It is, as it seems to me, very suspicious and unsatisfactory.

Nor can the internal evidence be accounted more satisfactory than the external.

In the first place, the Buscapié in question is a closer imitation of Cervantes than he would be likely to make of himself. It opens like the Prólogo to the “Persiles and Sigismunda,” in which the conversation that Cervantes says he held with a travelling medical student seems to have been the model for the one he is represented as holding with the travelling Bachelor in the Buscapié;—it then goes on with an examination of one or two contemporary authors, and allusions to others, in the manner of the scrutiny of Don Quixote’s library;—and it ends with an acknowledged parallel to the story of the Yanguese carriers and their beasts; different parts of the whole reminding us of different works of Cervantes, but of the “Adjunta al Parnaso” oftener than of any other. In many cases, phrases seem to be borrowed directly from Cervantes. Thus, of an author praised in the Buscapié, it is said, “Se atreve á competir con los mas famosos de Italia,” (p. 20,) which is nearly the phrase applied to Rufo, Ercilla, and Virues in the Don Quixote. In another place, (p. 22,) Cervantes is made to say of himself, when speaking in the third person of the author of Don Quixote, “Su autor esta mas cargado de desdichas que de años,” which strongly resembles the more beautiful phrase he, in the same way, applies to himself, as the author of the “Galatea”; and in another place, (p. 10,) the little Bachelor’s shouts to his mule are said to be as much wasted “as if they were tossed into the well of Airon, or the pit of Cabra,”—an allusion much more appropriately made by Cervantes in the “Adjunta al Parnaso,” where mothers are advised to threaten their naughty children, that “the poet shall come and toss them, together with his bad verses, into the pit of Cabra, or the well of Airon,”—natural caves in the kingdoms of Granada and Córdova, about which strange stories were long credited. (Semanario Pintoresco, 1839, p. 25; Diccionario de la Academia, 1726, in verb. Airon; Don Quixote, ed. Clemencin, Tom. IV. p. 237; and Miñano, Diccionario Geográfico.) But there is no need of citing parallel passages. The Buscapié is full of them; some being happily chosen and aptly adjusted to their new places, like three allusions to the words of Cervantes in Don Quixote about “driving books of chivalry out of the world,” (see, ante, Vol. II. p. 105, note,) and others, like those I have just cited, being awkwardly introduced, and fitting their subjects less well than they did those to which they were originally applied. But whether well or ill selected, whether well or ill applied, these phrases in the Buscapié have seldom or never the appearance of accidental coincidences arising out of the carelessness of an author repeating from himself. They seem rather to be words and forms of expression carefully selected, and are so used as to give an air of constraint to the passages where they occur, showing that the writer turns, as it were, in a narrow circle;—an air as unlike as possible to the bold and unfettered movement which is so eminently characteristic of Cervantes.

In the next place, the Buscapié contains many allusions to obscure authors and long-forgotten trifles; but, with an inconsiderable exception, which seems to be a little ostentatiously announced as such, (p. 12, and note B,) not one, I believe, occurs, that is beyond the reach of the singular learning of Don Adolfo, whose ample notes, fitting with suspicious exactness to the text, drive the reader to the conjecture, that the text may have been adjusted to the notes quite as much as the notes to the text. Now and then, this conjecture seems to be confirmed by a slight inaccuracy. Thus, in both text and notes, the name of Pedro de Enzinas—whose poetry is cited and examined just as I find it in my copy of the “Versos Espirituales,” printed at Cuenca, in 1596 (see, ante, Vol. III. p. 13, note)—is uniformly spelt many times over Ezinas, that is, without the first n, (Buscapié, pp. 19-21, and note I,)—a trifling mistake, which a copyist might easily have made in 1606, or which Don Adolfo might have easily made in 1847, when transcribing, as he did, from the printed book before him, but a mistake which there is not one chance in a thousand that both should have made, if there were no other connection between the two than the one avowed. And, again, a little farther on, a mistake occurs which seems to have arisen from the very excess of Don Adolfo’s recondite learning. The old Castilian proverb, “Al buen callar llaman sage,”—or, “He is a wise man that knows when to hold his tongue,”—is found in the text of the Buscapié, (p. 26,) and Don Adolfo in the note on it (L) informs us, that, “in the same way in which this proverb is here used by Cervantes, it is to be seen in the Conde Lucanor,[464] and in other older works. Somebody corrupted it into ‘Al buen callar llaman Sancho.’” But the idea, that Cervantes adhered to an old form of the proverb, because he rejected or did not know the supposed corrupt one, is not well founded. The proverb occurs, in what Don Adolfo considers a corrupted form, as early as the “Cartas de Garay,” in 1553, and the collection of Proverbs by the learned Hernan Nuñez, in 1555, and in this very form it is, in fact, used by Cervantes himself (Don Quixote, Parte II. c. 43); for when Sancho Panza is rebuked by his master for stringing together proverbs without end, he first promises he will not utter another, and then instantly opens his mouth with this one. Indeed, I rather think that the word sage, which was in use as late as the time of Juan de Mena, had dropped out of the current language of good society before that of Cervantes. Nebrixa, before 1500, says it was then antiquated. (See Diccionario de la Academia, 1739.)

The last suggestion I have to make in relation to the genuineness of the Buscapié published by Don Adolfo de Castro is, that, though on its title-page it professes to explain “all the hidden and unexplained things” in the Don Quixote, it does not, in fact, even allude to one such; and though it professes to have been written by Cervantes in order to defend himself against certain learned adversaries, it does not cite any one of them, and only defends him in a light, jesting tone against the charge of the little Bachelor by admitting its truth, and then justifying it, on the ground that knight-errantry is still flourishing and vigorous in Spain,—a charge which no sensible or learned man can be supposed to have made, and a defence which is humorous, so far as it is so at all, only for its absurdity.

Other things might be mentioned, such as that Cervantes, in the Buscapié, is made to speak in a disparaging way of Alcalá de Henares, his native place, (pp. 13 and 41,) which, as we have seen, (ante, Vol. II. p. 53,) he delighted to honor; and that he is made to represent his imaginary Bachelor as talking about his own painful personal deformities, (pp. 24, 25, 28, 29,) and his father’s contemptible poltroonery, (pp. 27, 28, 34,) in a way inconsistent with the tact and knowledge of human nature which are among the strongest characteristics of the author of Don Quixote.

But I will go no farther. The little tract published by Don Adolfo de Castro is, with the exception of two or three coarse passages,[465] a pleasant, witty trifle. It shows in many parts much lively talent, a remarkable familiarity with the works of Cervantes, and a hardly less remarkable familiarity with the literature of the period when Cervantes lived. If Don Adolfo wrote it, he has probably always intended, in due time, to claim it as his own, and he may be assured that, by so doing, he will add something to his own literary laurels without taking any thing from those of Cervantes. If he did not write it, then he has, I think, been deceived in regard to the character of the manuscript, which he purchased under circumstances that made him believe it to be what it is not. In any event, I find no sufficient proof that it was written by Cervantes, and therefore no sufficient ground to think that it can be placed permanently under the protection of his great name.

APPENDIX, E.

ON THE DIFFERENT EDITIONS, TRANSLATIONS, AND IMITATIONS OF THE “DON QUIXOTE.”

(See Vol. II. p. 108, note, and p. 112, note.)

Whatever relates to the “Don Quixote” of Cervantes is so interesting, that I will add here such an account of its different editions, translations, and imitations as may serve, in some degree, to give the just measure of its extraordinary popularity, not only in Spain, but all over Christendom.

The first edition of the First Part of Don Quixote, of which I have a copy, was printed with this title: “El Ingenioso Hidalgo, Don Quixote de la Mancha, compuesto por Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, dirigido al Duque de Bejar, Marques de Gibraleon, etc. Año 1605. Con Privilegio, etc. En Madrid, por Juan de la Cuesta,” 4to, in one volume. Three editions more appeared in the same year, namely, one at Madrid, one at Lisbon, and the other at Valencia. These, with another at Brussels, in 1607,—five in all,—are the only editions that appeared, till he took it in hand to correct some of its errors. But he did this, as I have intimated, very imperfectly and carelessly. Among other changes, he did away with the division of the volume into four parts or books, but did not take the trouble to remove from the text the proofs of such a division, as may be seen at the end of Chapters VIII., XIV., and XXVII., where the work was divided, and where, in all our editions, the proofs of it still remain. Such corrections, however, as he saw fit to make, with sometimes a different spelling of words, appeared in the Madrid edition of 1608, 4to; of which I have a copy. This edition, though somewhat better than the first, is yet ordinary; but, as the one containing Cervantes’s only amendments of the text, it is more valued and sought after than any other, and is the basis on which all the good impressions since have been founded. After this, an edition at Milan, 1610, and one at Brussels, 1611, are known to have been printed before the appearance of the Second Part, in 1615. So that, in nine or ten years, there were eight editions of the First Part of Don Quixote, implying a circulation greater than that of the works of Shakspeare or Milton, Racine or Molière, who, as of the same century, may be fitly compared with him.

The first edition of the Second Part of Don Quixote, which, like the first edition of the First Part, is poorly printed, is entitled, “Segunda Parte del Ingenioso Hidalgo Don Quixote de la Mancha, por Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, autor de su Primera Parte, dirigida á Don Pedro Fernandez de Castro, Conde de Lemos, etc. Año 1615. Con Privilegio, en Madrid, por Juan de la Cuesta,” 4to. It was printed separately, Valencia, 1616; Brussels, 1616; Barcelona, 1617; and Lisbon, 1617; after which no separate edition is known to have appeared.[466]

Thus, as we have seen, eight editions of the First Part were printed in ten years, and five of the Second Part in two years. Both parts appeared together at Barcelona in 1617, in two volumes, duodecimo; and from this period the number of editions has been very great, both in Spain and in foreign countries; nearly fifty of them being of some consequence. Only five, however, need to be here particularly noted. These are,—1. Tonson’s edition, (London, 1738, 4 vols., 4to,) published at the instance of Lord Carteret, in compliment to the queen, and containing the Life by Mayans y Siscar, already noticed; the first attempt either to edit Don Quixote or to write its author’s life with care. 2. The magnificent edition printed by the Spanish Academy, (Madrid, 1780, 4 tom., folio,) in which the text is settled with some skill, a few notes are added, and the Life of Cervantes and an Analysis, or rather an extravagant eulogy and defence, of the Don Quixote, by Don Vicente de los Rios, prefixed. It has been several times reprinted, though not without expressions of disapprobation, especially at the indiscriminate admiration of Los Rios, who found, among other opponents, a very resolute one in a Spaniard by the name of Valentine Foronda, who, in 1807, printed in London a thin octavo volume of very captious notes on Don Quixote, written in the form of letters, between 1793 and 1799, and entitled “Observaciones sobre Algunos Puntos de la Obra de Don Quixote, por T. E.” Clemencin gives the name of the author, who is otherwise unknown to me. (Ed. Don Quixote, Tom. I. p. 305.) 3. The extraordinary edition published in two volumes, quarto, at Salisbury, in England, in 1781, and accompanied by a third volume, consisting of notes and verbal indexes, all in Spanish, by the Rev. John Bowle, a clergyman in a small village near Salisbury, who gave fourteen years of unwearied labor to prepare it for the press; studying, as the basis of his system of annotation, the old Spanish and Italian authors, and especially the old Spanish ballad-books and books of chivalry, and concluding his task, or at least dating his Prefaces and Dedication, on the 23d of April, the anniversary of Cervantes’s death. There are few books of so much real learning, and at the same time of so little pretension, as the third volume of this edition. It is, in fact, the true and safe foundation on which has been built much of what has since been done with success for the explanation and illustration of the Don Quixote, which thus owes more to Bowle than to any other of its editors, except Clemencin. 4. The edition of Juan Antonio Pellicer, (Madrid, 1797-98, 5 tom., 8vo,) an Aragonese gentleman, who employed above twenty years in preparing it. (Latassa, Bib. Nov., Tom. VI. p. 319.) The notes to this edition contain a good deal of curious matter, but this matter is often irrelevant; the number of the notes is small, and they explain only a small part of the difficulties that occur in the text. It should be observed, too, that Pellicer is indebted to Bowle further than he acknowledges, and that he now and then makes mistakes on points of fact. 5. The edition of Diego Clemencin, (Madrid, 1833-39, 6 tom., 4to,) one of the most complete commentaries that has been published on any author, ancient or modern. It is written, too, with taste and judgment in nearly all that relates to the merits of the author, and is free from the blind admiration for Cervantes which marks Vicente de los Rios and the edition of the Academy. Its chief fault is, that there is too much of it; but then, on the other hand, it is rare to find an obscure point which it does not elucidate. The system of Clemencin is the one laid down by Bowle; and the conscientious learning with which it is carried out seems really to leave little to be desired in the way of notes.

In other countries the Don Quixote is hardly less known than it is in Spain. Down to the year 1700, it is curious to observe, that as many editions of the entire work were printed abroad as at home, and the succession of translations from the first has been uninterrupted. The oldest French translation is of 1620, since which there have been six or seven others, including the poor one of Florian, 1799, which has been the most read, and the very good one of Louis Viardot, (Paris, 1836-38, 2 tom., 8vo,) with the admirable illustrations of Granville,—a translation, however, which has been somewhat roughly handled by F. B. F. Biedermann, in a tract entitled “Don Quixote et la Tâche de ses Traducteurs” (Paris, 1837, 8vo). The oldest English one is by Shelton, 1612-20, the first half of which was made, as he says in the Dedication, in forty days, some years before, and which was followed by a very vulgar, unfaithful, and coarse one by John Philips, the nephew of Milton, 1687; one by Motteux, 1712; one by Jarvis, 1742, which Smollet used too freely in his own, 1755; one by Wilmot, 1774; and, finally, the anonymous one of 1818, which has adopted parts of all its predecessors. Most of them have been reprinted often; and, on the whole, the most agreeable and the best, though certainly somewhat too free, is that of Motteux, in the edition of Edinburgh, 1822, (5 vols., 12mo,) with notes and illustrative translations, full of spirit and grace, by Mr. J. G. Lockhart. No foreign country has done so much for Cervantes and Don Quixote as England, both by original editions, published there, and by translations. It may be noticed further, that, in 1654, Edmund Gayton, a gay fellow about town, of whom Wood gives no very dignified account, published in London a small folio volume, entitled “Pleasant Notes upon Don Quixote,” the best of its author’s various works, and one that was thought worth publishing again in the next century, for the sake, I suppose, of the amusing vein in which it is written, but not on account of any thing it contains that will serve to explain difficult or obscure passages in the original. Some of it is in verse, and the whole is based on Shelton’s translation.

All countries, however, have sought the means of enjoying the Don Quixote, for there are translations in Latin, Italian, Dutch, Danish, Russian, Polish, and Portuguese. But better than any of these is, probably, the admirable one made into German by Ludwig Tieck, with extraordinary freedom and spirit, and a most genial comprehension of his author; four editions of which appeared between 1815 and 1831, and superseded all the other German versions, of which there are five, beginning with an imperfect attempt in 1669. It ought, perhaps, to be added, that, in the course of the last half-century, more editions of the original have appeared in Germany than in any other foreign country.

Of imitations out of Spain, it is only necessary to allude to three. The first is a “Life of Don Quixote, merrily translated into Hudibrastic Verse, by Edward Ward,” (London, 1711, 2 vols., 8vo,)—a poor attempt, full of coarse jests not found in the original. The second is “Don Silvio de Rosalva,” by Wieland, (1764, 2 vols.,) in ridicule of a belief in fairies and unseen agencies;—his first work in romantic fiction, and one that never had much success. The third is a curious poem, in twelve cantos, by Meli, the best of the Sicilian poets, who, in his native dialect, has endeavoured to tell the story of Don Quixote in octave stanzas, with the heroi-comic lightness of Ariosto; but, among other unhappinesses, has cumbered Sancho with Greek mythology and ancient learning. It fills the third and fourth volumes of Meli’s “Poesie Siciliane” (Palermo, 1787, 5 vols., 12mo). All these, as well as Smollet’s “Sir Launcelot Graves” and Mrs. Lenox’s “Female Quixote,” both published in 1762, are direct imitations of the Don Quixote, and on that account, in part, they are all failures. Butler’s “Hudibras,” (first edition, 1663-78,) so free and so full of wit, comes, perhaps, as near its model as genius may venture with success.

Don Quixote has often been produced on the stage in Spain; as, for instance, in a play by Francisco de Avila, published at Barcelona, in 1617; in two by Guillen de Castro, 1621; in one by Calderon, that is lost; and in others by Gomez Labrador, Francisco Marti, Valladares, Melendez Valdes, and, more lately, Ventura de la Vega; some of which were noticed when we spoke of the drama. But all of them were failures. (Don Quixote, ed. Clemencin, Tom. IV., 1835, p. 399, note.)

As to prose imitations in Spain, except the attempt of Avellaneda, in 1614, I know of none for above a century;—none, indeed, till the popularity of the original work was revived. But since that period, there have been several. One is by Christóval Anzarena,—“Empressas Literarias del ingeniosíssimo Cavallero, Don Quixote de la Manchuela,” (Sevilla, 12mo, without the year, but printed about 1767,)—intended to ridicule the literary taste of the times, which, after going through the education of the hero, breaks off with the promise of a second part, that never appeared. Another is called “Adiciones á Don Quixote, por Jacinto María Delgado,” (Madrid, 12mo, s. a.,) printed apparently soon after the last, and containing the remainder of Sancho’s life, passed chiefly with the Duke and Duchess in Aragon, where, at a very small expense of wit, he is fooled into the idea that he is a baron. Another, by Alonso Bernardo Ribero y Sarrea, called “El Quixote de la Cantabria,” (Madrid, 1792, 2 tom., 12mo,) describes the travels of a certain Don Pelayo to Madrid, and his residence at court there, whence he returns to his native mountains, astonished and shocked that the Biscayans are not everywhere regarded as the only true nobility and gentlemen on earth. A fourth, “Historia de Sancho Panza,” (Madrid, 1793-98, 2 tom., 12mo,) is an unsuccessful attempt to give effect to Sancho as a separate and independent person after Don Quixote’s death, making him Alcalde of his native village, and sending him to figure in the capital and get into prison there;—the whole bringing the poor esquire’s adventures down to a very grave ending of his very merry life. And a fifth, by Juan Siñeriz, “El Quixote del Siglo XVIII.,” (Madrid, 1836, 4 tom., 12mo,) is an account of a French philosopher, who, with his esquire, travels over the earth to regenerate mankind; and, coming back just at the close of the French Revolution, which happened while he was in Asia, is cured, by the results of that great convulsion, of his philosophical notions; a dull, coarse book, whose style is as little attractive as its story. Perhaps there are other Spanish imitations of Don Quixote; but there can be none, I apprehend, of any merit or value.

All this account, however, incomplete as it is, of the different editions, translations, and imitations which, for above two centuries, have been poured out upon the different countries of Europe, gives, still, but an imperfect measure of the kind and degree of success which this extraordinary work has enjoyed; for there are thousands and thousands who never have read it, and who never have heard of Cervantes, to whom, nevertheless, the names of Don Quixote and of Sancho are as familiar as household words. So much of this kind of fame is enjoyed, probably, by no other author of modern times.

APPENDIX, F.

ON THE EARLY COLLECTIONS OF OLD SPANISH PLAYS.

(See Vol. II. p. 429.)

Two large collections of plays, and several small ones, much resembling each other, both in the character of their contents and the form of their publication, appeared in different parts of Spain during the seventeenth century, just as the ballads had appeared a century before; and they should be noticed with some care, because they exhibit the peculiar physiognomy of the Spanish national drama with much distinctness, and furnish materials of consequence for its history.

Of the first collection, whose prevailing title seems to have been “Comedias de Diferentes Autores,” it would, I suppose, be impossible now to form a complete set, or one even approaching to completeness. I possess only three volumes of it, and have seen satisfactory notices of only two more. The first of the five is the twenty-fifth volume of the collection itself, and was printed at Saragossa, in 1633, by Pedro Escuer. As is usual with such volumes of the old Spanish dramatists, it is in small quarto and contains twelve plays, seven of which are attributed to Montalvan, then at the height of his success as a living author, and one to Calderon, who was just rising to his great fame; but one of the seven plays of Montalvan belongs to his master, Lope de Vega, and the only one taken from Calderon is printed from a text grossly corrupted. The twenty-ninth volume was printed at Valencia, in 1636, and the thirty-second at Saragossa, in 1640; but I have seen neither of them. In the thirty-first, printed at Barcelona, in 1638, all the twelve plays are given without the names of their authors, though the persons who wrote most of them are still known; and the forty-third volume was printed at Saragossa, in 1650, containing plays by Calderon, Moreto, and Solís, with enough by more obscure authors to make up the regular number of twelve. It is no doubt singular, that, of a collection like this, extending to at least forty-three volumes, so little should now be known. But such is the fact. The Inquisition and the confessional were very busy in the latter part of the seventeenth century, when, under the imbecile Charles the Second, the theatre had fallen from its high estate; and in this way the oldest large collection of plays published in Spain, and the one we should now be most desirous to possess, was hunted down and nearly exterminated.

The next, which is the collection commonly known under the title of “Comedias Nuevas Escogidas de los Mejores Autores,”—a title by no means strictly adhered to in its successive volumes,—was more fortunate. Still it is very rare. I have never seen a set of it absolutely complete; but I possess in all forty-one volumes out of the forty-eight, of which such a set should consist, and have sufficiently accurate notices of the remaining seven.

The first of these volumes was published in 1652, the last in 1704; but, in the latter part of the period embraced between these dates, the theatre so declined, that, though at first two or three volumes came out every year, none was issued during the twenty-three years that followed the death of Calderon in 1681, except the very last in the collection, the forty-eighth. Taken together, they contain five hundred and seventy-four comedias, in all the forms and with all the characteristics of the old Spanish drama; their appropriate loas and entremeses being connected with a very small number of them. Thirty-seven of these comedias are given as anonymous, and the remaining five hundred and thirty-seven are distributed among one hundred and thirty-eight different authors.

The distribution, however, as might be anticipated, is very unequal. Calderon, who was far the most successful writer of the period he illustrated, has fifty-three plays assigned to him, in whole or in part, of which it is certain not one was printed with his permission, and not one, so far as I have compared them with the authentic editions of his works, from a text properly corrected. Moreto, the dramatic writer next in popularity after Calderon, has forty-six pieces given to him in the same way; all probably without his assent, since he renounced the stage as sinful, and retired to a monastery in 1657. Matos Fragoso, who was a little later, has thirty-three; Fernando de Zarate, twenty-two; Antonio Martinez, eighteen; Mira de Mescua, eighteen; Zavaleta, sixteen; Roxas, sixteen; Luis Velez de Guevara, fifteen; Cancer, fourteen; Solís, twelve; Lope de Vega, twelve; Diamante, twelve; Pedro de Rosete, eleven; Belmonte, eleven; and Francisco de Villegas, eleven. Many others have smaller numbers assigned to them; and sixty-nine authors, nearly all of whose names are otherwise unknown, and some of them, probably, not genuine, have but one each.

That the dramas in this collection all belong to the authors to whom it ascribes them, or that it is even so far accurate in its designations as to be taken for a sufficient general authority, is not for a moment to be supposed. Thirteen at least of the plays it contains, that bear the name of Calderon, are not his; one known to be his, “La Banda y la Flor,” is printed as anonymous in the thirtieth volume, with the title of “Hazer del Amor Agravio”; and another, “Amigo Amante y Leal,” is twice inserted,—once in the fourth volume, 1653, and once in the eighteenth volume, 1662,—each differing considerably from the other, and neither taken from a genuine text.

Of its carelessness in relation to other authors similar remarks might be made. Several of the plays of Solís are printed twice, and one three times; and in two successive volumes, the twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth, we have the “Lorenzo me llamo” of Matos Fragoso, a well-known and, in its time, a popular play. On all accounts, therefore, this collection, like its predecessor, is to be regarded as a mere bookseller’s speculation, carried on without the consent of the authors whose works were plundered for the purpose, and sometimes, as we know, in disregard of their complaints and remonstrances. How recklessly and scandalously this was done may be gathered from the facts already stated, and from the further one, that the “Vencimiento de Turno,” in the twelfth volume, which is boldly ascribed to Calderon on its title, is yet given to its true author, Manuel del Campo, in the very lines with which it is ended.

Still, these large collections, with the single volumes that, from time to time, were sent forth in the same way by the booksellers,—such as those published by Mateo de la Bastida, in 1652; by Manuel Lopez, in 1653; by Juan de Valdes, in 1655; by Robles, in 1664; and by Zabra and Fernandez, in 1675, all of which have been used in the account of the theatre in the text,—give us a living and faithful impression of the acted Spanish drama in the seventeenth century; for the plays they contain are those that were everywhere performed on the national stage, and they are here presented to us, not so often in the form given them by their authors, as in the form in which they were fitted for the stage by the managers, and plundered from the prompter’s manuscripts, or noted down in the theatres, by piratical booksellers.

APPENDIX, G.

ON THE ORIGIN OF THE BAD TASTE IN SPAIN, CALLED CULTISMO.

(See Vol. II. p. 533, note.)

A remarkable discussion took place in Italy in the latter part of the eighteenth century, concerning the origin of the bad taste in literature that existed in Spain after 1600, under the name of “Cultismo”;—some of the distinguished men of letters in each country casting the reproach of the whole of it upon the other. The circumstances, which may be properly regarded as a part of Spanish literary history, were the following.

In 1773, Saverio Bettinelli, a superficial, but somewhat popular, writer, in his “Risorgimento d’Italia negli Studj, etc., dopo il Mille,” charged Spain, and particularly the Spanish theatre, with the bad taste that prevailed in Italy after that country fell so much under Spanish control; adding to a slight notice of Lope de Vega and Calderon the following words:—“This, then, is the taste which passed into Italy, and there ruined every thing pure.” (Parte II. cap. 3, Tragedia e Commedia.) Girolamo Tiraboschi, in his “Storia della Letteratura Italiana,” first published between 1772 and 1783, maintained a similar position or theory, tracing this bad taste, as it were, to the very soil and climate of Spain, and following its footsteps, both in ancient times, when, he believed, the Latin literature had been corrupted by it after the Senecas and Martial came from Spain to Rome, and in modern times, when he charged upon it the follies of Marini and all his school. (Tom. II., Dissertazione Preliminare, § 27.)

Both these writers were, no doubt, sufficiently decided in the tone of their opinions. Neither of them, however, was harsh or violent in his manner, and neither, probably, felt that he was making such an attack on the literature and fair fame of another country as would provoke a reply;—much less, one that would draw after it a long controversy.

But at that period there were in Italy a considerable number of learned Spaniards, who had been driven there, as Jesuits, by the expulsion of their Society from Spain in 1767; men whose chief resource and amusement were letters, and who, like true Spaniards, felt not a whit the less proud of their country because they had been violently expelled from it. With hardly a single exception, they seem to have been offended by these and other similar remarks of Bettinelli and Tiraboschi, to which they were, perhaps, only the more sensitive, because the distinguished Italians who made them were, like themselves, members of the persecuted Order of the Jesuits.

Answers to these imputations, therefore, soon began to appear. Two were published in 1776;—the first by Thomas Serrano, a Valencian, who, in some Latin Letters, printed at Ferrara, defended the Latin poets of Spain from the accusations of Tiraboschi, (Ximeno, Tom. II. p. 335; Fuster, Tom. II. p. 111,) and the second by Father Giovanni Andres, who, in a Dissertation printed at Cremona, took similar ground, which he further enlarged and fortified afterwards, in his great work on universal literary history, (Dell’ Origine, Progresso, e Stato Attuale di Ogni Letteratura, 1782-99, 9 tom., 4to,) where he maintains the dignity and honor of his country’s literature on all points, and endeavours to trace the origin of much of what is best in the early culture of modern Europe to Arabian influences coming in from Spain, through Provence, to Italy and France.

To the Letters of Serrano rejoinders appeared at once from Clement Vannetti, the person to whom Serrano had addressed them, and from Alessandro Zorzi, a friend of Tiraboschi;—and to the Dissertation of Father Andres, Tiraboschi himself replied, with much gentleness, in the notes to subsequent editions of his “Storia della Letteratura.” (See Angelo Ant. Scotti, Elogio Storico del Padre Giovanni Andres, Napoli, 1817, 8vo, pp. 13, 143, Tiraboschi, Storia, ed. Roma, 1782, Tom. II. p. 23.)

Meantime, others among the exiled Spanish Jesuits in Italy, such as Arteaga, who afterwards wrote the valuable “Rivoluzioni del Teatro Musicale,” 1783, and Father Isla, who had been famous for his “Friar Gerund” from 1758, took an interest in the controversy. (Salas, Vida del Padre Isla, Madrid, 1803, 12mo, p. 136.) But the person who brought to it the learning which now makes it of consequence in Spanish literary history was Francisco Xavier Lampillas, or Llampillas, who was born in Catalonia, in 1731, and was, for some time, Professor of Belles Lettres in Barcelona, but who, from the period of his exile as a Jesuit in 1767 to that of his death in 1810, lived chiefly in Genoa or its neighbourhood, devoting himself to literary pursuits, and publishing occasionally works, both in prose and verse, in the Italian language, which he wrote with a good degree of purity.

Among these works was his “Saggio Storico-apologetico della Letteratura Spagnuola,” printed between 1778 and 1781, in six volumes, octavo, devoted to a formal defence of Spanish literature against Bettinelli and Tiraboschi;—occasionally, however, noticing the mistakes of others, who, like Signorelli, had touched on the same subject. In the separate dissertations of which this somewhat remarkable book is composed, the author discusses the connection between the Latin poets of Spain and those of Rome in the period following the death of Augustus;—he examines the question of the Spanish climate raised by Tiraboschi, and claims for Spain a culture earlier than that of Italy, and one as ample and as honorable;—he asserts that Spain was not indebted to Italy for the revival of letters within her borders at the end of the Dark Ages, or for the knowledge of the art of navigation that opened to her the New World; while, on the other hand, he avers that Italy owed to Spain much of the reform of its theological and juridical studies, especially in the sixteenth century;—and brings his work to a conclusion, in the seventh and eighth dissertations, with an historical exhibition of the high claims of Spanish poetry generally, and with a defence of the Spanish theatre from the days of the Romans down to his own times.

No doubt, some of these pretensions are quite unfounded, and others are stated much more strongly than they should be; and no doubt, too, the general temper of the work is any thing rather than forbearing and philosophical; but still, many of its defensive points are well maintained, and many of its incidental notices of Spanish literary history are interesting, if not important. At any rate, it produced a good effect on opinion in Italy; and, when added to the works published there soon afterwards by Arteaga, Clavigero, Eximeno, Andres, and other exiled Spaniards, it tended to remove many of the prejudices that existed among the Italians against Spanish literature;—prejudices which had come down from the days when the Spaniards had occupied so much of Italy as conquerors, and had thus earned for their nation the lasting ill-will of its people.

Answers, of course, were not wanting to the work of Lampillas, even before it was completed; one of which, by Bettinelli, appeared in the nineteenth volume of the “Diario” of Modena, and another, in 1778, by Tiraboschi, in a separate pamphlet, which he republished afterwards in the different editions of his great work. To both, Lampillas put forth a rejoinder in 1781, not less angry than his original Apology, but, on the whole, less successful, since he was unable to maintain some of the positions skilfully selected and attacked by his adversaries, or to establish many of the facts which they had drawn into question. Tiraboschi reprinted this rejoinder at the end of his own work, with a few short notes; the only reply which he thought it necessary to make.

But in Spain the triumph of Lampillas was open and unquestioned. His Storia Apologetica was received with distinguished honors by the Academy of History, and, together with his pamphlet defending it, was published first in 1782, in six volumes, and then, in 1789, in seven volumes, translated by Doña Maria Josefa Amar y Borbon, an Aragonese lady of some literary reputation. What, however, was yet more welcome to its author, Charles the Third, the very king by whose command he had been exiled, gave him an honorable pension for his defence of the national literature, and acknowledged the merits of the work by his minister, Count Florida Blanca, who counted among them not only its learning, but an “urbanity” which now-a-days we are unable to discover in it. (Sempere, Biblioteca, Tom. III. p. 165.)

After this, the controversy seems to have died away entirely, except as it appeared in notes to the great work of Tiraboschi, which he continued to add to the successive editions till his death, in 1794. The result of the whole—so far as the original question is concerned—is, that a great deal of bad taste is proved to have existed in Spain and in Italy, especially from the times of Góngora and Marina, not without connection and sympathy between the two countries, but that neither can be held exclusively responsible for its origin or for its diffusion.

APPENDIX, H.

INEDITA.

Having a little enlarged the first and second volumes for the purpose, I am enabled here to present some of the very old and interesting Spanish poetry, furnished to me by Don Pascual de Gayangos, but never before published. I wish it were in my power to print more of the manuscripts in my possession, but I have not room.

No. I.

POEMA DE JOSÉ EL PATRIARCA.

The first of the manuscripts referred to is the one mentioned in Vol. I. pp. 94-99, as a poem on the subject of Joseph, the son of Jacob,—remarkable on many accounts, and, among the rest, because, in the only copy of it known to exist,—that in the National Library, Madrid, MSS. G. g., 4to, 101,—it is written entirely in the Arabic character, so that, for a long time, it was regarded as an Arabic manuscript. It has not, I believe, been deemed of a later date than the end of the fourteenth century. Indeed, its language and general air would seem to indicate an earlier one; but we should bear in mind that the Moriscos, to some one of whom this poem is due, did not make a progress in the language and culture of Spain so rapid as the Spaniards did, by whom, long before the fall of Granada, large masses of them were surrounded and kept in subjection. On this account we may conjecture the poem to have been written as late as the year 1400; but its date is uncertain.

· · · · · ·

· · · · · ·

Jusuf seiendo chico i de pocos annos,

Castigandolo su padre no se encubrió de sus ermanos,

Dijoles el suenno que bido en los altos;

Pensaronle traision é fizieronle engannos.

Dijeronle sus ermanos, “Agamosle certero;

Roguemos a nueso padre rogaria berdadera,

Que nos deje a Jusuf en la comanda berdadera,

I amostrarle emos mannas de cazar la alimanna berdadera.”

· · · · · ·

· · · · · ·

Porque Jacab amaba á Jusuf por marabella,

Porque el era disquito i agudo de orella,

Porque la su madre era fermosa e bella,

Sobre todas las otras era amada ella.

Aquesta fue la razon porque le obieron enbidia,

Porque Jusuf sonno un suenno una noche ante el dia,

Suenno que entendieron sus ermanos siempre todabia,

Que Jusuf seiendo menor abria la mejoria.

· · · · · ·

· · · · · ·

Dijieron sus filhos, “Padre, eso no pensedes,

Somos dies ermanos, eso bien sabedes;

Seriamos taraidores, eso no dubdedes;

Mas enpero, si no vos place, aced lo que queredes.

“Mas aquesto pensamos, sabelo el Criador;

Porque supiese mas, i ganase el nuestro amor,

Enseñarle aiemos las obelhas e el ganado maior;

Mas enpero, si no vos place, mandad como señor.”

Tanto le dijeron de palabras fermosas,

Tanto le prometieron de palabras piadosas,

Que él les dió el ninno, dijoles las oras,

Que lo guardasen a el de manos enganosas.

Dioseles el padre, como no debia far,

Fiandose en sus filhos, e no quis mas dubdar;

Dijo, “Filhos, los mis filhos, lo que os quiero rogar,

Que me lo catedes e me lo querais guardar.

“E me lo bolbades luego en amor del Criador,

A él fareis placer, i a mi mui grand fabor,

Y en esto no fallescades, filhos, por mi amor,

Encomiendolo a el de Allah, poderoso Señor.”

Lebaronlo en cuello mientras su padre los bido.

De que fueron apartados bien beredes que fueron á far;

Bajaronlo del cuello, en tierra lo van a posar.

Quando esto bido Jusuf por su padre fué á sospirar.

Dejabanlo zaguero mal andante e cuitado,

E él como era tierno quedo mui querebantado;

Dijoles, “Atendedme, ermanos, que boi mui cansado,

No querais que quede aqui desmamparado.

“Dadme agua del rio o de fuente o de mar,

No querades que muera de sete ni de fambar;

No querades que finque de sin padre ni madre;

Acuerdeseos lo que os dijo el cano de mi padre.”

Esto que oyera el uno de ellos, bien beredes lo que fizo;

Dio de mano al gua, en tierra la bacio,

De punnos e de cozes mui mal lo firio,

El ninno con las sobras en tierra cayo.

Alli se fue a rencorar uno de sus ermanos,

Jahuda tiene por nombre, mui arreciado de manos;

Fuesele a rogar ad aquellos onrados

No murió entonces qui sieronlo sus fados.

Tomaron su consejo, i obieronlo por bien,

Que lo llebasen al monte al pozo de Azraiel;

Frio es el fosal, e las fieras ia se acian,

Porque se lo comiesen i nunca mas lo bian.

Pensaban, que dirian al su padre onrrado,

Que, estando en las obelhas, bino el lobo airado,

Estando durmiendo Jusuf a su caiado,

Bino el lobo maldito i a Jusuf hubo matado.

Jacub estaba aflejido por la tardanza de su fijo,

Saliose por las carreras por oir i saber de sus fijos nuebas berdaderas;

Bidolos benir, meciendo las cabezas,

Diciendo, “O ermano Jusuf!” de tan buena manera.

Quando los bido benir con tal apellido,

Luego en aquella ora caio amortesido;

Quando llegaron a él no le hallaron sentido,

Dijeron todos, “Senor, dale el perdon cumplido.”

Dijo Jahuda a todos sus ermanos,

“Bolbamos por Jusuf, donde estaba encelado,

I abremos gualardon de nueso padre onrrado;

Io prometo de encelar quanto abemos errado.”

Dijeron sus ermanos, “Eso no aremos;

Somos diez ermanos, eso bien sabemos;

Bamos a nueso padre e todo se lo contaremos,

Que, contandole aquesto, seremos creederos.”

Hasta poco de rato Jacob ubo recordado;

Dijo, “Que es de mi fijo, que es de mi amado?

Que le abedes fecho, en do lo abeis dejado?”

E todos dijeron, “El lobo lo ha matado.”

“No bos creio, filhos, de quanto me dezides;

Idme a cazar el lobo de aquel donde benides,

Que io le fare ablar corbas sus corbizes;

Con la aiuda de Allah, el me dira si falsia me dezedes.”

E fueronse a cazar el lobo con falsia mui grande,

Diciendo que abia fecho una muerte tan mala;

Traieron la camisa de Jusuf ensangrentada,

Porque creiese Jacob aquello sin dudanza.

Rogo Jacob al Criador, e al lobo fué á fablar.

Dijo el lobo, “No lo manda Allah que a nabi fuese á matar;

En tan estranna tierra me fueron á cazar,

Anme fecho pecado, i lebanme a lazrar.”

Dijo Jacob, “Filhos que tuerto me tenedes,

De quanto me decides de todo me fallesedes,

En el Allah creio, e fio que aun lo beredes

Todas estas cosas que aun lo pagaredes.”

E bolbiose Jacob e bolbiose llorando,

E quedaron sus filhos como desmamparados;

Fueronse a Jusuf donde estaba encelado,

E lebaronle al pozo por el suelo rastrando.

Echaronle en el pozo con cuerda mui luenga;

Quando fue a medio ubieronla cortada,

E caio entre una penna i una piedra airada,

E quiso Allah del cielo, e no le nocio nada.

Alli caio Jusuf en aquella agua fria,

Por do pasaba gente con mercaduria,

Que tenian sed con la calor del dia,

I embiaron por agua alli donde el iacia.

Echaron la ferrada con cuerda mui larga;

No la pudieron sacar, cá mucho les pesaba

Por razon que Jusuf en ella se trababa;

Pusieron i esfuerzo, i salto la bella barba.

Ellos de que bieron a tan noble criatura

Marabillaronse de su grand fermosura;

Llebaronle al mercader, e plaziole su figura;

Prometioles mucho bien e mui mucha mesura.

Asta poco de rato sus ermanos binieron

A demandarlo, su catibo lo ferieron;

El lo otorgo pues ellos lo quisieron;

Jahuda los aconsejo por alla por do binieron.

Dijo el mercader, “Amigos, si queredes

Aquestos vente dineros por él si lo bendedes.

Dijeron, “Contentos somos con que lo enpresionedes,

Asta la tierra santa que no lo soltaredes.”

E fizieron su carta, de como lo bendieron;

E todo por sus manos por escripto lo pusieron,

E ad aquel mercader su carta le rindieron,

E lebaronlo encadenado ansi como punsieron.

Quando bino el mober, Jusuf iba llorando,

Por espedirse de sus ermanos mal iba quexando,

Malos eran ellos, mas él acia su guisado,

Demandó al mercader i otorgoselo de grado.

Dijo el mercader, “Esta es marabella,

Que ellos te an vendido como si fueses obelha,

Diciendo que eras ladron e de mala pelelha;

E io por tales senores no daria una arbelha.”

Partiose Jusuf con la cadena rastrando,

E Jahuda aquella noche estabalos belando,

Espertolos a todos tan apriesa llorando,

Diziendo, “Lebantadbos, recibid al torteado.”

Dijo Jusuf, “Ermanos, perdoneos el Criador

Del tuerto que me tenedes, perdoneos el Senor;

Que para siempre e nunca se parta el nuestro amor.”

Abraso á cada guno, e partiose con dolor.

Iba con gran gente aquel mercadero;

Alli iba Jusuf solo e sin companero;

Pasaron por un camino por un fosal sennero,

Do iacia la su madre acerca de un otero.

Dio salto del camello donde iba cabalgando;

No lo sintio el negro que lo iba guardando;

Fuese a la fuesa de su madre a pedirla perdon doblando

Jusuf a la fuesa tan apriesa llorando.

Disiendo, “Madre, Sennora, perdoneos el Sennor,

Madre, si me bidieses de mi abriais dolor;

Boi con cadenas al cuello, catibo con sennor,

Bendido de mis ermanos, como si fuera traidor.

“Ellos me han bendido, no teniendoles tuerto;

Partieronme de mi padre, ante que fuese muerto,

Con arte, con falsia, ellos me obieron buelto;

Por mal precio me han bendido por do boi ajado e cucito.”

E bolbiose el negro ante la camella

Requiriendo a Jusuf e no lo bido en ella,

E bolbiose por el camino aguda su orella,

Bidolo en el fosal, llorando que es marabella.

E fuese alla el negro e obolo mal ferido,

E luego en aquella ora caio amortesido;

Dijo, “Tu eres malo e ladron conpilido,

Ansi nos lo dijeron tus senores que te hubieron bendido.”

Dijo Jusuf, “No soi malo ni ladron,

Mas aqui iaz mi madre e bengola a dar perdon;

Ruego ad Allah, i a el fago loaiçon

Que, si colpa no te tengo, te enbie su maldicion.”

Andaron aquella noche fasta otro dia;

Entorbioseles el mundo, gran bento corria,

Afallezioseles el sol al ora de medio dia,

No vedian por do ir con la mercaderia.

Aqueste mercader base marabillado

De aquella fortuna que traia el pecado.

Dijo el mercader, “Yo mando pribado,

Que quien pecado a fecho que bienga acordado.

“Que es aquesta fortuna que agora veiemos

Por algun pecado que entre nosotros tenemos;

Quien pecado a fecho perdone e perdonemos,

Mejoremos ventura e todos escaparemos.”

Dijo el negro, “Señor, io di una bofetada

A de aquel tu catibo que se fue a la alborada.”

Llamó el mercader a Jusuf la begada,

Que se viniere a bengar del negro e su errada.

Dijo Jusuf, “Eso no es de mi a far;

Io no vengo de aquellos que ansi se quieren vengar;

Ante bengo de aquellos que quieren perdonar;

Por gran que seia el ierro, io ansi lo quiero far.”

Aquesto fecho i el negro perdonado,

Aclarecioles el dia i el mercader fue apagado.

Dijo el mercader, “O amigo granado!

Sino por lo compuesto soltariate de grado.”

Mas a pocos de dias a su tierra llegaron;

Jusuf fue luego suelto, que un rio lo bañaron;

De purpura e de seda mui bien lo guisaron,

E de piedras preciosas mui bien lo afeitaron.

Quando entraron por la cibdad, las gentes se marabillaban;

El dia era nublo e el sol no relumbraba,

Magüer era oscuro e el la hazia calara,

Por do quier que pasaba todo lo relonbraba.

Decian las gentes a de aquel mercadero,

Si era aquel angel o ombre santurero.

Dijo, “Este es mi catibo leal e berdadero,

Io quiero lo bender, si le hallo mercadero.”

Dijo el mercader, que él lo benderia en mercado.

Fizo a saber las nuebas por todo el reinado,

Que biniese toda la gente para el dia sennalado,

Estando Jusuf apuesto en un banco posado.

No fincó en toda la comarca hombre ni muger,

Ni chico ni grande, que non le fuese a ber.

Alli bino Zaleja e dejó el comer,

Cabalgada en una mula a quanto podia correr.

Su peso de palata por el daba bien pesado,

E otro que tal haria de oro esmaltado,

E de piedras preciosas como dice el ditado,

Mercolo el Rei por su peso de oro granado.

Diolo el Rei a Zaleja con amor,

Tomaronlo por filho legitimo e maior,

Tomaronlo dambos de mui buen amor;

Lebantose el pregonero, e pregono a sabor.

Lebantose el pregonero, e pregono a sabor;

Dijo, “Quien compra Profeta cuerdo e sabidor,

Leal i berdadero i firme en el Criador,

Ansi como parece por fecho e balor?”

Dijo Jusuf, “Tu pregonaras, amado,

Quien comprara catibo, torpe e abiltado?”

Dijo el pregonero, “Eso no faré io, amado,

Que, si aqueso pregonase, no te mercaran de grado.”

Dijo, “Pues eso no quieres, pregona la berdad,

E ruegote, ermano, que no la quieras negar.

Di, Quien comprara profeta del alto lugar,

Filhos de Jacob si lo aveis oido nombrar?”

De que supo el mercader que era de tal altura,

Rogo al comprador le bolbiese por mesura

E doblarle i a el precio de su compradura,

E él no lo quiso hacer porque ia tenia bentura.

Besandole pies i manos que lo quisiese far,

El por ninguna bia no lo quiso derogar,

Tubose por mal andante; la cuenta ia le fue a tornar,

Salbante lo que costo no lo quiso mas tomar.

Rogo el mercader a Jusuf la sazon,

Que rogase ad Allah del cielo de buen corazon,

Que en doce mugeres que tenia, todas doce en amor,

Que en todas doce le diese filhos e criazon.

Lebantose Jusuf e fizo loacion,

Rogo ad Allah del cielo de buen corazon,

Que alargase la bida al buen baron,

I emprennaronse todas, cada una a su sazon.

Cuando bino la ora ubieron de librar,

Quiso Allah del cielo, e todas fueron a hechar

Mui nobles criaturas e figuras de alegrar,

Porque nuestro Señor las quiso ayudar.

Criolo Zaleja, mui bien lo hubo criado,

E de corazon lo hubo guardado,

I él como era apuesto apegose del pribado,

Demandole el su cuerpo, e no le semejo guisado.

Dijo a su pribada, “Ia sabes, amada,

Como io he criado a Jusuf cada semana,

De noche e de dia io bien lo guardaba,

I él no me lo prezia mas que si fuese bana.

“Dame sabiduria, a mi sapiencia clara.

Io no puedo facer que el acate en mi cara;

Solo que él me bediese i el luego me amara,

E de él faria a mi guisa en lo que io le mandara.”

Dijo su pribada, “Io bos daré un consejo;

Bos dadme haber, i os faré un bosquejo,

Io habre un pintor i mistorara a arrecho,

Io faré el meter, e a que se benga a buestro lecho.”

De quanto le demando todo lo fué bien guisado;

Fizo fazer un palacio mui apuesto e cuadrado,

Todo lo fizo balanco paredes e terrado,

E fizo figurar a un pintor piribado.

De Jusuf e de Zaleja allí hizo sus figuras,

Que se abrazaban dambos pribados sin mesura,

Porque semejaban bibos con seso e cordura,

Porque eran misturados de mistura con natura.

De que el palacio fue fecho e todo bien acabado,

Alli bino Zaleja e asentose ia de grado,

E embio por Jusuf luego con el mandado,

“Jusuf, tu Señora te manda que baias mui pribado.”

E fuese Jusuf do Zaleja salia,

E como quiso de entrar luego sintió la falsia,

E quisose bolber, e ella no lo consentia,

Tarabolo de la falda, e llebolo do iacia.

Alli quedó Jusuf con mui gran espanto;

Afalagabolo Zaleja i el bolbiase de canto,

Prometiendole aber e riquezas a basto.

La ora dijo Jusuf, “Allah mandara a farto.”

Por do quier que cataba beia figora artera;

Deciale Zaleja, “Esta es fiera manera;

Tu eres un catibo é io tu Sennora certera;

Io no puedo fazer que tu guies a mi carrera.”

Jusuf en aquella ora quisose encantar;

El pecado lo fazia que lo queria engannar;

E bido que no era a su padre onrrar;

Repentido fue luego i empezo de firmar.

Jusuf bolbió las cuestas e empezo de fuir;

De zaga ibale Zaleja, no lo podia sofrir;

Trabolo de la falda como oirias decir,

Echando grandes boces, “Aqui abras de benir.”

Oiolo su marido por do allí bino pribado;

Falló a Jusuf llorando su mal fado;

Rota tenia la falda en su costado,

I el su corazon negro por miedo de pecado.

Zaleja tenia tendidos sus cabellos,

En manera de forzada con sus olhos bermellos;

Diziendo al buen Rei, “Sennor, de los consellos

Aqui son menester; cata todos tus consejos.

“Cata aqui tu catibo, que tenias en fieldad;

Ame caecido por sin ninguna piedad,

Abiendolo criado con tan gran piedad

Como faze madre á filho ansi lo quise aquesto far.”

Dijo el Rei a Jusuf aquesta razon;

“Como me as pensado en tan grande traision,

Tobiendote puesto en mi corazon?”

La ora dijo Jusuf, “No bengo de tal morgon.”

Reutaban á Zaleja las duennas del lugar

Porque con su catibo queria boltariar.

Ella de que lo supo arte las fue á buscar,

Combidolas a todas e llebolas a cantar.

Diolas ricos comeres é binos esmerados,

Que hijan todas agodas de dictados,

Diolas sendas toronjas e caminetes en las manos,

Tajantes e apuestos e mui bien temperados.

E fuese Zaleja a do Jusuf estaba,

De purpura e de seda mui bien lo aguisaba,

E de piedras preciosas mui bien lo afeitaba,

Berdugadero en sus manos a las duennas lo embiaba.

Ellas de que lo bieron perdieron su cordura,

Tanto era de apuesto e de buena figura;

Pensaban que era tan angel e tornaban en locura,

Cortabanse las manos e non se abian cura,

Que por las toronjas la sangre iba andando.

Zaleja quando lo bido toda se fue alegrando;

Dijoles Zaleja que fais lo cas de sin cuidado,

Que por buesas manos la sangre iba andando.”

I ellas de que lo bieron sintieron su locura.

“Que a par una bista sola tomades en locura?

Io que debia fazer e dende el tiempo que medura?”

Dijeronle las duennas, “A ti no te colpamos,

Nosotras somos las ierradas que te razonamos;

Mas antes guisaremos que él te benga a tus manos

De manera que seais abenidos enterambos.”

E fueronse las duennas a Jusuf a rogar;

Bederedes cada una como lo debia far;

Pensabase Zaleja que por ella iban á rogar,

Mas cada guna iba para sí a recabar.

Jusuf quando aquesto bido reclamose al Criador;

Diziendo, “Padre mio, de mi aiades dolor;

Son tornadas de una muchas en mi amor,

Pues mas quiero ser preso que no ser traidor.”

Cuando bido Zaleja la cosa mal parada,

Que por ninguna bia no pudo haber de entrada,

Dijo al buen Rei, “Este me a difamada

No teniendo la culpa, mas a falsia granada.”

Echolo en la prision aqui a que se bolbiese,

E que por aquello a ella obedeciese;

E entiendolo el Rei ante que muriese

E juró que non salria mientras que él bibiese.

E quando aquesto fue fecho, Zaleja fue repentida;

No lo abria querido fazer en dias de su vida,

Diziendo, “O mezquina, nunca seré guarida

De este mal tan grande en que soi caida.

“Que si io supiera que esto abia de benir,

Que por ninguna bia no se ha podido complir,

Que io no he podido de este mal guarir,

Por deseo de Jusuf habré io de morir.”

Alli iaze diez annos como si fuese cordero,

Daquí á que mandó el Rei á un su portero

Echar en la prision dos ombres i el tercero,

El uno su escancieno e el otro un panicero;

Porque abian pensado al Rei de far traicion,

Que en el bino e en el pan que le echasen ponzon.

Probado fué al panicero, e al escancieno non,

Porque mejor supo catar e encobrir la traicion.

Allí do estaban presos mui bien los castigaba,

E qualquiera que enfermaba mui bien lo curaba;

Todos lo guardaban por do quiera que el estaba,

Porque el lo merecia, su figura se lo daba.

Sonno el escancieno un suenno tan pesado;

Contolo a Jusuf, i sacosele de grado.

Dijo, “Tu fues escancieno de tu Sennor onrrado,

Mas oi en seras a tu oficio tornado,

“E abras perdon de tu Sennor;

Aiudete el seso i guiete el Criador,

I a quien Allah da seso dale grande onor;

Bolberas á tu oficio con mui grande balor.”

Dijo el panicero al su compannero,

“Io dire a Jusuf que e sonnado un suenno

De noche en tal dia, quando salia el lucero,

I beré que me dize en su seso certero.”

Contole el panicero el suenno que queria,

I sacosele Jusuf é nada no le mentia;

Dijo, “Tu fues panicero del Rei todabia,

Mas aqui iaceras porque fiziste falsia;

“Que al tercero dia seras tu luego suelto,

E seras enforcado a tu cabeza el tuerto,

E comeran tus meollos las abes del puerto;

Alli seras colgado hasta que sias muerto.”

Dijo el panicero, “No sonné cosa certera,

Que io me lo dezia por ber la manera.”

Dijo Jusuf, “Esta es cosa berdadera,

Que lo que tu dijestes, Allah lo embió por carrera.”

Dijo Jusuf al escancieno aquesta razon;

“Ruegote que recuerdes al Rei de mi prision,

Que arto me a durado esta gran maldicion.”

Dijo el escancieno, “Plaze me de corazon.”

Que al tercero dia salieron de grado,

E fueron delante del Rei, su Sennor onrrado;

E mandó el panicero ser luego enforcado,

Dijo, “El escancieno á su oficio a tornado.”

Olbidosele al escancieno de decir el su mandado,

E no le membro por dos años ni le fué acordado,

Fasta que sonnó un suenno el Rei apoderado;

Doce annos estubo preso, e esto mal de su grado.

Aqueste fue el suenno que el Rei ubo sonnado,

De que salia del agua un rio granado,

Anir era su nombre preciado e granado,

I bido que en salian siete bacas de grado.

Eran bellas e gordas e de lai mui cargadas,

I bido otras siete magras, flacas, e delgadas.

Comianse las flacas a las gordas granadas,

E no se les parecia ni enchian las hilladas.

E bido siete espigas mui llenas de grano,

Berdes e fermosas como en tiempo de berano;

E bido otras siete secas con grano bano,

Todas secas e blancas como caballo cano.

Comianse las secas a las berdes del dia,

E no se les parecia ninguna mejoria;

Tornabanse todas secas cada guna bacia,

Todas secas e blancas como de niebla fria.

El Rei se marabello de como se comian

Las flacas a las gordas granadas,

I las siete espigas secas a las berdes mojadas,

I entendio que en su suenno abia largas palabras,

E no podia pensar a que fuesen sacadas.

E llamo a los sabidores e el suenno les fue a contar,

Que se lo sacasen e no ge diesen bagar,

E ellos le dijeron, “Nos querais aquejar,

Miraremos en los libros o no te daremos bagar.”

Dijeronle, “Sennor, no seais aquejado;

No son los suennos ciertos en tiempo arrebatado.

Los amores crecen segun noso cuidado,

Mas a las de beras suelen tornar en falso.”

I amansose el Rei, e dioles de mano,

Porque el entendio que andaban en bano.

E ubo de saber aquello el escancieno,

E binose al Rei, e diole la mano.

E dijole, “Sennor, io sé un sabidor onrrado

El qual está en prision firmemente atorteado;

Dos annos abemos que del non me e acordado,

E fecho como torpe, e sientome ierrado.

“Ia me saco un suenno, cierto le bi benir.”

E el Rei le respondio, “Amigo, empieza de ir,

E contaselo todo, como as oido dezir,

E librarlo emos mui presto e sacarlo io de alli.”

E fuese el escancieno a Jusuf de grado,

E dijo, “Perdoname, amigo, que olbidé tu mandado,

E fizolo el miedo de mi Sennor onrrado,

Mas agora es tiempo de mandarlo doblado.

“Mas ruegote, ermano, en amor del Criador,

Que me saques un suenno que bido mi Sennor.”

La ora dijo Jusuf, “Plazeme de corazon,

Pues que no puedo salir fasta que quiera el maior.”

E contole el suenno todo bien cumplido,

Porque no ierrase Jusuf en lo que era sabido.

Quando el suenno fue contado, Jusuf ubo entendido;

Dijo Jusuf, “El suenno es cierto e benido.

“Sabras que las siete bacas gordas e granadas,

E las siete espigas berdes e mojadas,

Son siete annos mui llubiesos de aguas,

Do quiera que sembraredes todas naceran dobladas.

“I las magras bacas e las secas espigas

Son siete annos de mui fuertes prisas;

Comense a los buenos bien a las sus guisas,

Do quiera que sembraredes no ia saldran espigas.

“Porque face menester, que sembraredes á basto

En estos annos buenos que aberedes á farto,

I dejaredes probiendo para bosotros e al ganado

I alzaredes lo a otro ansi fechos llegado.

“Ansi con su espiga sin ninguna trilladura

E la palla sera guardada mui bien de afolladura,

Porque no ii caiga polilla, ni ninguna podredura,

Porque en estos tiempos secos tengades folgadura.

“Porque en aquestos annos tengades que comer

E buestros bestiales e las bacas de beber,

E todos los esforzades, e poredes guarecer,

E saldreis al buen tiempo e abreis mucho bien.”

Cuando bió el escancieno del suenno la glosa,

Bolbiose al Rei con berdadera cosa,

E fizole a saber al de la barba donosa,

Que era el suenno con razon fermosa.

E placiole mucho al Rei, e ovo gran plazer,

E supole malo de tal preso tener,

Cuerdo e berdadero, complido en el saber,

E mandó que lo traiesen, que el lo queria ber.

E fuese el escancieno a Jusuf con el mandado,

E dijo como el Rei por él abia embiado,

E que fuese presto del Rei, no fuese airado.

E dijo Jusuf, “No sere tan entorbiado;

“Mas buelbete al Rei i dile desta manera,

Io que feuza tendré en su merced certera,

Que me a tubido preso doce annos en la carcel negra

A tuerto e sin razon e a traision berdadera.

“Mas io de su prision no quiero salir

Fasta que me benga de quien alli me fizo ir,

De las duennas fermosas que me fizieron fuir,

Quant se cortaban las manos e no lo podian sentir.

“Aplazelas el Rei pues que me dannaron,

Que digan la berdad porque me colparon,

O por qual razon en carcel me echaron,

Porque entienda el Rei, porque me acolparon.

“E quando seran ajuntadas e Zaleja con ellas,

Demandelas el Rei berdad a todas ellas,

E quando el bera que la culpa tienen ellas

La ora io saldré de mui buena manera.

Aplazolas el Rei, e demandalas la berdad;

Ellas le dijeron, “Todas fizimos maldad,

E Jusuf fue certero manteniendo lealtad;

Nunca quiso boltariar ni le dió la boluntad.”

Lebantose Zaleja, i empezo de decir,

“A todas las duennas no es otra de mentir,

Sino de seier firmes e la berdad dezir,

Que io me entremeti por mi loado dezir.

“Que todas hizimos ierro si nos balga el Criador,

E le tenemos culpa, Allah es perdonador;

Jusuf es fuero de ierro e de pecado maior.”

El Rei, quando las oiera, maldiciolas con dolor.

E fizo saber el Rei a Jusuf la manera,

Como era quito cosa berdadera

De todas las duennas con prueba certera;

E la ora salio Jusuf de la carcel negra.

E en el portal de la prision fizo fazer un escripto;

“La prision es fuesa de los hombres bibos

E sitio de maldicion e banco de los abismos,

E Allah nos cure de ella a todos los amigos.”

Embiole el Rei mui rica cabalgadura

E gran caballeria, e abianlo a cura;

Llebanlo en medio como Sennor de natura,

E fueronse al palacio del buen Rei de mesura.

E el Rei como lo bido luego se fue á lebantar,

E el Rei se fue a él, que no solia usar,

E asentolo cabo a él, lo que no solia far,

E en la ora le dijo el Rei, “Mi fillol te quiero far.”

E con setenta fablaches el Rei le obo fablado,

E respondiole Jusuf a cadauno pribado;

E fabló Jusuf al Rei otro fablado e el Rei no supo dar recaudo,

E marabillose el Rei de su saber granado.

Dijo el Rei a Jusuf, “Ruegote, ermano,

Que me cuentes el suenno que te dijo mi escancieno,

Que lo oiga de tu lengua, i sea io alegrado,

I aderezaremos nuestras cosas seiendo librado.”

E dijo Jusuf al Rei, “Encomiendote al Criador,

Que de aqueste suenno habras mui grande onor;

Mas tu as menester hombre de corazon,

Que ordene tu ficienda e la guie con balor.

“Mas adreza tu ficienda como io te he fablado,

Que el pan de la tierra todo seia alzado,

El de los annos buenos para el tiempo afortunado,

Que de sede e de fambre todo el mundo sea aquejado.

“Berná toda la gente en los tiempos faltos,

E mercaran el pan de los tus alzados

Por oro e plata e cuerpos e algos,

De manera que sereis Sennor de altos i de bajos.”

E el Rei, quando esto oiera, comenzo de pensar;

Jusuf, como le bido, bolbiole a fablar,

I dijole, “En eso no pensedes, que Allah lo ha de librar,

Que io habré de ser quien lo abré de guiar.”

Dijo el Rei, “O amigo, e como me has alegrado;

Io te lo agradezco, de Allah habras grado,

Que tu seras aquel por quien se ensalzara el condado,

I que de hoi adelante te dejo el reinado.

“Porque tu perteneces mandar el reinado

I a toda la gente ibierno e berano;

Todos te ubedeceremos el joben e el cano,

Como las otras gentes quiero ser de garado.

“Porque tu lo mereces, de Allah te benga guianza;

Pero ruegote, amigo, que seias en amiganza,

Que me buelbas mi reino e no pongas dudanza,

Al cabo de dicho tiempo no finques con mala andanza.

“Con aquesta condicion que te quedes en tu estado,

Como Rei en su tierra mandando i sentenciando,

Que asi lo mandare hoi por todo el reinado,

Que io no quiero ser ia mas Rei llamado.”

I placiole a Jusuf, hubolo de otorgar,

I en el sitio del Rei luego se ha de sentar,

I mando el Rei a la gente delante del humillar;

Firmemente lo guardaban como lo debian far.

I quando bido Jusuf la luna prima i delgada

En el seno que se iba con planta apresurada,

Que dentraban los annos de bentura abastada,

Mando juntar la tierra i toda su companna.

I de que fueron llegados todos sus basallos,

Fizoles a saber porque eran llegados,

Que se fuesen a sembrar los bajos i altos,

Que sembrasen toda la tierra balles e galachos.

I fueronse a sembrar todos con cordura,

Asi como mandaba su Sennor de natura;

Benian redoblados con bien e con bentura,

I marabillaronse de su sabencia pura.

I luego mando Jusuf a todos sus maestros,

Que fiziesen graneros de grandes peltrechos,

Mui anchos i largos, de mui fuertes maderos,

Para ad alzar el pan de los tiempos certeros.

Nunca bieron hombres estancias tamannas,

Unas encima de otras que semejaban montannas,

I mando segar el pan ansi entre dos tallas,

I ligar los fachos con cuerdas delgadas.

I facialos poner en los graneros atados,

Ansi con sus espigas que fuese bien guardado,

Que no i caiese polilla ni nada ubiese cuidado;

Cada anno lo hizo facer ansi, i fizieronlo de grado.

E tanto llego del pan que no le fallaban quantia,

E quando bido la luna en el seno que se iba,

Que dentraba la seca de mui mala guisa,

Mando que no sembrasen de pues de aquel dia,

Fasta que pasasen otros siete annos cumplidos

Que de sete e de fambre serian fallecidos;

E no i abia aguas de cielo nin de rios;

Ansi como lo dijo Jusuf, asi fueron benidos.

I puso el Rei fieles para su pan bender,

Buenos e berdaderos segun el su saber,

E mando que diesen el derecho, ansi lo mando fazer,

E precio subido por el que fiz prender.

E mando a sus fieles que bendiesen de grado,

El uno a los de la tierra, e el otro a los de fuera del reinado,

A cada guno demandasen nuebas de do eran pribados,

O, si eran de la tierra, que no les diesen recaudo.

Que a pocos de dias las tierras fueron bacias

De todo el pan e mercaderias,

E no ia i abia que comer en cibdades ni en billas,

E mercaban de Jusuf el que sabian las guaridas.

Los primeros annos con dinero e moblo mercaron,

Llebaron plata e oro e todo lo acabaron,

E luego en pues de aquello la criazon ia lebaron,

E no les basto aquello, que mucha res ia llebaron.

Que al seteno anno bendieron los cuerpos,

E fueron todos catibos todos bibos e muertos,

E todo bolbio al Rei las tierras e los pueblos,

I estendiose la fambre en reinos estrangeros.

Pues, quando lo bido Jusuf todo a su mandar,

E todos los catibos que podia bender o dar,

Bolbiose al Rei e fuele a fablar;

Dijo, “Que te parece, Rei, de lo que me has bisto far.”

E dijole el Rei, “Tu aras por el reinado,

Porque tu mereces mandar el condado,

Porque tu perteneces mandar el reinado,

Que io no quiero ser ia mas Rei llamado.”

Dijo Jusuf al Rei aquesta razon;

“Io fago franco a todos e quito con onor

Ia tu tu reismo con todo Sennor;”

La ora dijo el Rei, “Eso no seria razon,

“Que no me lo consintiria el mi corazon,

Que tan noble sabencia fuese a baldon;

Antes de oi adelante quiero que tu seias Sennor.”

E bido Jusuf la fambre apoderada,

Que por toda la tierra era tan encargada;

Entendio que en la tierra de su padre seria llegada;

Puso ia regimiento como la nueba fuese arribada.

Mas a pocos de dias la fambre fue llegada

A tierra de Jacob e su barba onrrada;

Tenia mucha gente e una moier guardada.

Dijo Jacob, “Filhos, io he sentido

Que en tierras de Egito hai un Rei cunplido,

Bueno e berdadero, franco i entendido,

E tiene mucho pan partido e bendido.

“Querria que tomasedes deste nuestro aber,

E que fueseis luego ad aquel Rei a ber,

Contadle nuestra cuita e querra bos creier,

Con la aiuda de Allah querra a bos bender.”

Dijeron sus filhos, “Placemos de grado;

Iremos a beier ad aquel Rei onrrado,

E beremos la su tierra e tambien el su reinado,

E, con la aiuda de Allah, él nos dara recaudo.”

De que llegaron a la tierra abistada,

Preguntaron por el Rei do era su posada;

Dijo un escudero, “Aqui i es su morada;

Io bos dare del pan e tambien de la cebada.

“Que io soi fiel del Rei, que bendo el pan alzado

A los de fuera del reino, a los otros no me es mandado;

Decidme de donde sois, e libraros e de grado,

O, si sois de aquesta tierra, no bos dare recaudo.

“Decid me de donde sois o de que lugar,

Porque podais deste pan llebar,

E dare a cada guno quanto querais mercar,

Segun el dinero le hare io mesurar.”

I ellos le dijeron todos sus nombres,

E la tierra de do eran, e como eran ermanos,

Filhos de Jacob e de Ishac mui amados,

En Cherusalem alli eran fincados.

Ed entro el escudero al Rei e contestole la razon,

E de que logar e de qual morgon,

E filhos de Profeta de buena generacion;

“Sennor, si tu lo mandas librarlos e con amor.”

E mando el Rei que entrasen delante del pribado,

E que les diesen de comer del maior pescado,

E que los guardasen por todo el reinado,

E no los dejasen ir tobiesen su mandado.

E el Rei como los bido obo placer con ellos,

E mandose aderezar el Rei de unos bestidos bellos,

E mil caballeros al costado esquerro e mil al derecho,

E de una parte placer e de otra gran despecho.

Los bestidos que traia eran de gran balor,

Eran de oro e de seda e de fermosa labor,

E traia piedras preciosas de que salia claror,

Mas traia algalia e mui rico golor.

E mando qued entrasen a beier su figura,

E dieronle salbacion segun su catadura,

E mandolos asentar con bien i apostura,

E marabillaronse de su buena bentura.

Ellos estando en piedes i el Rei parado

E belos el Rei fieramente catando,

I ellos no se dudaban nin de abian cuidado,

Retrobalos el Rei de amor e de grado.

E de que bieron al Rei bella su catadura,

Judas dijo, “Ermanos, oid mi locura,

Temome de este Rei e de su encontradura,

Roguemosle que nos embie por mesura.”

Por mucho que le dijeron él no lo quiso far,

Fasta el tercero dia alli los fizo estar,

Fizoles mucha onrra, quanta les pudo far,

Ansi como a filhos los mandaba guardar.

La mesura del pan de oro era labrada,

E de piedras preciosas era estrellada,

I era de ber toda con guisa enclabada,

Que fazia saber al Rei la berdad apurada.

Dijoles el Rei, nuebas les demandaba,

La mesura en su mano que se la meneaba,

Disiendoles el Rei que mirasen lo que ablaban,

Que si dezian mentira ella lo declaraba;

Quien con el Rei abla guardese de mentir,

Ni en su razon no quisiere mentir,

Porque, quando lo fazia, haciala retinir,

I ella le dezia berdad sin cuentradecir.

Dijoles el Rei, “De quien sedes filhos,

O de que linage sois benidos?

Beos io de gran fuerza fermosos e cumplidos,

Quiero que me lo digades e seremos amigos.”

Ellos le dijeron, “Nosotros, Sennor,

Somos de Profeta, creientes al Criador,

De Jacob somos filhos, creientes al Criador,

E benimos por pan si hallamos bendedor.”

E firio el Rei en la mesura e fizola sonar,

Ponela a su orelha por oir e guardar;

Dijoles, e no quiso mas dudar,

“Segun dize la mesura berdad puede estar.”

Dijoles el Rei, “Quantos sos, amados?”

Ellos le dijeron, “Eramos doze ermanos,

I al uno se comio el lobo segun nos cuidamos,

E el otro queda con él, su amor acabado.”

Dijoles el Rei, “Prometo al Criador,

Sino por acatar a buestro padre e sennor,

Io os tendria presos en cadena con dolor,

Mas por amor del biejo enbiaros e con onor.”

Ellos dijeron, “Sennor, rogamoste en amor,

Por el Sennor del mundo que te dio onrra e balor,

Nos quieras embiar a nueso padre e sennor,

I abras galardon e merced del Criador.

“E no cates a nos, mas al biejo de nueso padre,

Por que es ombre mui biejo e flaco, en berdad,

Que si tu le conocieses querriaslo onrrar,

Porque es ombre mui sano e de buena boluntad.”

“Io no cato a bosotros, mas a quien debo mirar;

E por aquel ombre bueno me benides a rogar,

Allah me traiga en tiempo que io lo pueda onrrar,

Que, como faze filho a padre, io asi lo quiero far.

“Saludadme al biejo, a bueso padre el cano,

I que me embie una carta con el chico bueso ermano,

E que fue de su tristeza que a tornado en bano,

E si aquesto olbidas no os daremos grano.

“Mas en bosotros no me fio, ni me caie en grado;

Mas, porque a mi sea cierto, quede el uno restado,

Hasta que benga la carta con el chico bueso ermano;

I en esto echad suertes qual quedara arrestado.”

E caio la suerte a uno que dezian Simeon,

El que corto la soga a Jusuf la sazon,

Quando lo echaron en el pozo i caio alli el baron,

E ubo de fincar alli con la dicha condicion.

E luego el Rei mando la moneda a ellos ser tornada,

E luego a cada uno en su saco ligada,

E ellos no se dudaban nin de abian cuidado,

I fizolo el Rei porque tornasen de grado.

I espidieronse del Rei, e binieron mui pagados,

E contaron al su padre del Rei e sus condados,

Que nunca bieron tal Rei e de tantos basallos,

E de buena manera e de consejos sanos;

E que se berificaba en todo su afar

E su padre Jacob en onrra e saber,

Quien no lo conociese e lo fuese a ber,

Entenderia que es Profeta, abrialo a creier.

Desataron los sacos del trigo e ubieron catado,

Fallaron la quantia que ubieron llebado;

Dijeron a su Padre, “Este es ombre abonado,

Que sobre toda la onrra la quantia nos a tornado.

“Mas sepades, Padre, que el os embia a rogar,

Que le embies a bueso filho e non le querais tardar,

Con una carta escripta de todo bueso afar;

Padre, si no nos lo dades, no nos cabe mas tornar,

“Ni nos dará del pan, ni seremos creidos.

Padre, si nos lo dades seremos guaridos,

Ternemos nuestra fe i seremos creidos,

E traeremos del pan e ganaremos amigos.”

Dijoles el Padre, “No lo podria mandar;

Este es mi bida e con él me e de conortar,

Ni en bosotros io no quiero fiar,

Porque antes de agora me obiestes a falsia.

“Quando llebastes a Jusuf, no me lo tornastes,

Quebrantastes buestra fe e buestro omenage,

Perdistes a mi filho como desleales;

Io quiero me guardar de todas buestras maldades.”

Por mucho que le dijeron el no lo quiso far,

Ni por ninguna bia lo quiso otorgar;

Obieronme de sofrir e no ia quisieron tornar

Fasta que el pan fue comido e no ia abia que amasar.

E la ora tornaron a su padre a rogar

Que les diese a su ermano e los quiera guiar,

Que al buen Rei prometieron de sin él no tornar,

E quellos lo guardarian sin ninguna crueldad.

Tanto le dijeron e le fueron a rogar,

E biendo la gran fortuna hubolo de otorgar,

I ellos le prometieron de mui bien le guardar,

E de no bolber sin él, jura le fueron a far.

I a uno de sus filhos fizo facer un escripto,

En el qual decia, “A tu Rei de Egipto

Salud e buen amor de Jacob el tristo;

Io te agradezco tu fecho e tu dicto.

“A lo que me demandas que fue de mi estado,

Sepas que mi bejez e mi bien e logrado,

O la mi ceguedad que ia soi quebrantado,

Primero por favor del Criador onrrado.

“E por Jusuf mi filho, parte de mi corazon,

Aquel que era fuerza de mi en toda sazon,

I era mi amparo, e perdilo sin razon,

No sé triste si es muerto o bibo en prision.

“Entiendo que soi majado del Rei celestial,

I ansi que deste mi filho tomes mancilla e pesar,

E lo que io te ruego como a Rei natural,

Que me buelbas a mi filho que por él soi io mortal.

“Que si no por este filho io ia seria finado,

Que el me daba conuerto de Jusuf el mi amado;

Io te lo embio en fe que me lo tornes pribado,

En guardete el Allah Sennor apoderado.”

De que la carta fue fecha, dijolos él de grado,

“Filhos, los mis filhos, cumplid el mi mandado;

No entreis por una puerta mas por muchas pribado,

Porque seria major porque ansi lo e probado.”

Despidieronse de su padre e fueron con alegria,

Caminaron todos juntos la noche i el dia,

E llegaron a la cibdad con la claror del dia,

I el Rei como lo supo ubo gran mejoria.

E mandose aderezar el Rei de ricos bestidos,

I a toda su gente mas ricas cabalgaduras,

En balsamiento de oro, e safomerios de gran mesura,

De diversas maneras i oloros de gran altura.

Quando fue acabado lo que el Rei obo mandado,

Mando qued entrasen delante de él pribado;

E quando ellos por la corte iban dentrando,

Echoles palmas el chico en las golores de grado.

E besoles por su cara e por su bestidura;

Rautabanlo los otros que hacia gran locura,

Diziendo, “Que haces, loco de sin cordura?

Entiendes que por tí han puesto aquesta fermosura?”

Dijoles, “Ermanos, ruegoos no bos quejades,

Oid mi razon que luego lo sabredes,

Mas combieneos, ermanos, que os aparejedes,

Porque entienda el Rei que parientes buenos tenedes.”

E conocieron todos que tenia razon;

Tomaron su consejo como de buen baron,

E fueron delante del Rei con buena condicion;

De parte del padre era su generacion.

Tanto era el Rei de apuesto que, no lo conocian,

Unos certificaban i otros no podian,

I el Rei se sonrrio e dijo, que querian,

O de que tierra eran, que buena gente parecian.

I ellos le dijeron del afar pasado,

De como traian la carta con el chico su ermano,

Ansi como prometieron con omenage dado;

Pusieronle delante e placiole de grado.

Traia con él una carta escripta

Del estado de su padre e de su bida feita;

El Rei quando la leio lloro con gran mancilla,

I encubriose de los otros que ellos no lo beian.

E luego mando el Rei a todos sus menesteres,

E de enbarillamiento de oro henchesen las mesas,

E otras tantas de plata de dibersas maneras,

E mandoles asentar a que comiesen en ellas.

E de que fueron sentados mando que los sirbiesen,

E mando el Rei que de dos en dos comiesen,

Ansi como nacieron que ansi lo fiziciesen,

Por que a él le parecia a que no se ende estobiesen.

De que bieron de comer entre dos una escodilla

Hubo de fincar el chico con su mano en la mexilla,

Porque fincaba solo triste con mancilla,

Por tristeza de su ermano que eran de una nacida.

E bedosele él comer por dolor de su ermano,

Porque comia cada guno con su par ermano,

Llorando con tristeza e el su meollo cano,

E dejo el comer el filho del cano.

Quando aquesto ubieron fecho caio amortecido,

E el Rei quando lo bido a el fue arremetido,

Tomolo de la mano i onrrole el balido.

Dijo el Rei, “Amigo, quien te a ferido?”

Dijo él, “Bos soi, Sennor, cumplido,

Que me mandaste a mi ermano el balido,

El qual mi corazon no lo echo en olbido.”

Dijo el Rei, “Amigo, quieres me perdonar

Que io no sabia quien eras ni de que lugar,

Pues que tu fincas solo abrete de acompannar,

En lugar de tu ermano con tu quiero iantar.”

Sirbiole el Rei de buena boluntad,

E mando que le parasen mesa de gran beldad,

Que quiere comer con él que le abia piedad,

Tanta fue la bondad del Rei i onrra que le fue a dar.

Que le quito la ira e comio con él de grado;

Sus ermanos que lo bieron tomaron mal cuidado,

E por inbidia quisieron aberlo matado,

Disiendo unos a otros, “Aqueste nuestro ermano

“Allá con nuestro padre luego fará grandia

De que seremos en nuestra tierra el todabia,

‘Io comi con el Rei porque lo merecia,

I aquestos a mis piedes de noche e de dia.’”

Dijole el Rei, si abia moier e filho;

I él le dijo, “E moier con tres ninnos;

Por deseo de Jusuf puseles nombres piadosos,

El qual mi corazon no lo echa en olbido.

“Al uno dizen Lobo, i al otro dizen Sangre,

I al otro dizen Jusuf, filho de buena madre;

Esto porque dijeron mis ermanos a mi padre,

Que el lobo maldito en Jusuf se fue afartado.

“Traieron su sangre en su camisa clara,

E io con aquestos nombres no olbido su cara;

Pero no le olbido de noche ni de dia encara,

Porque el era mi bida i era mi amparo.

“Nacimos dambos juntos en el bientre de mi madre,

I ubose de perder en el tiempo de mi padre;

No sé triste si es muerto o bibo en tierra o mar;

Habeismelo mandado e fizisteme pesar.”

I aquejosele al Rei a la ora el corazon,

I quiso echar boces i encubrir la razon,

I tomolo de la mano i apartolo a un rincon,

I dijole el Rei i ablo como baron.

Dijole el Rei, “Conoces me, escudero?”

I él le dijo, “No a fe, caballero.”

Dijo, “Io soi Jusuf, io soi tu ermano certero.”

I abrazaronse dambos i andarian un millero.

Tanto tomo del gozo con Jusuf su ermano,

Que caio amortecido el su miollo bano,

I el Rei como le bido tomole de la mano,

Dijoles, “No haias miedo mientras io seia sano.”

Apartolo el Rei i dijole esta razon;

“Io quiero que finques con mi en toda sazon,

No lo sabra ninguno, muger ni baron,

Io acerlo e con buen arte e mui buena razon.

“E por far lo mas secreto te fago sabidor,

Porque non aias miedo ni ningun temor,

Io mandare meter la mesura de balor

Dentro en el tu saco, i esto por tu amor.”

Ninguno sabia del Rei la puridad,

I embioles a todos de buena boluntad:

Caminaron todos juntos toda la ermandad,

E de alli oieron boces de gran crueldad.

E pararonse todos a ber que querian,

E bieron que era el Rei con gente que corrian,

Diciendo, “Guardaos, traidores, que abeis echo falta;

Mala obra obrastes al Rei todabia.”

Quedaronse todos cada guno espantado

Del dicho que oieron a tan mal airado,

E dijeron todos, “Aun ganades gran pecado

De llamarnos ladrones, no siendo probado.

“Decidnos que queredes o que demandades,

O que os han furtado que ansi bos quejades.”

E ellos les dijeron, “La mesura bos tomastes,

La que decia al Rei todas las berdades.

“Dela quien la tiene, i albricias le daremos,

Un cafiz de trigo del mejor que tenemos.”

I ellos los dijeron, “Por la fe que tenemos,

No somos malfautores que nos no lo faremos.

“No benimos de natura de fazer desguisado,

No lo abemos fecho en el tiempo pasado,

Esto bien sabedes, pues nos lo abeis probado;

No nos aquejeis aquejamiento airado.”

E dijo un caballero aquesta razon;

“Amigos, si mentedes, que sera en gualardon?”

I ellos le dijeron, “Catebo quede el ladron

Al uso de la tierra con mui buena razon.”

Buscaron los sacos del trigo e cada uno pribado,

Dejaronse en tal mente el del chico atado;

Sus ermanos de que lo bieron tomaron mal cuidado,

Porque como su saco no le abian buscado.

Dijeron al Rei i tambien a su caudillo,

Porque no abian buscado el saco de su ermanillo;

Dijeron ellos, “Antes bamos al castillo”;

E ellos mismos le buscaron e fallaron el furtillo.

E de que bieron ellos todos los ermanos

Que era la mesura, quedaron espantados;

Dijeron, “O ermano, como nos as abellado,

Que te abe acontecido quedamos desonrrados.”

Dijo, “Ermanos, ruegoos no bos quejedes;

Oidme razon que luego lo beredes,

Que io culpa no bos tengo e luego lo otorguedes;

No lo querrio far por quanto bosotros tenedes.

“Mas acuerdeseos, ermanos, quando fallastes la quantia

Cada uno en su saco no supiendola aquel dia,

Si aquello bosotros furtastes de noche o de dia

Ansi e furtado io la mesura todabia

“Si dezis que no sabeis, tampoco sabo io,

Que aquesto nunca furte ni nunca tal fize io.”

Sus ermanos que le bieron en su razonar

E con aquello ubieron a sosegar.

Dijeron, “Sennor, si a furtado no lo aias a marabella,

Que un ermano tenia de mui mala pelelha;

Quando era chico furtose una cinta bella,

Ellos eran de una madre, e nosotros non de aquella.”

E sonriose el Rei dentro en su corazon

De la palabra mala dicha a sin razon;

Dijoles el Rei, “Io bos dicho la razon,

Que todos a mi tenedes figuras de ladron.”

E mando que lo tomasen e lo llebasen rastrado,

Mas no de manera que ia lo abia mandado,

Mas porque sus ermanos fuesen certificados,

Que lo llebaban preso i esto mal de su grado.

E mandolo llebar el Rei a su camara real

Fasta que sus ermanos fuesen a iantar;

E quando fueron idos e mandados del lugar,

El Rei se fue aprisa a su ermano a fablar.

E tomaronse los dos luego de mano a mano,

Disendole el Rei, “Io soi Jusuf tu ermano,

El que fue perdido de mi padre el cano,

El qual por mi es triste i io por él no soi sano.”

Mandolo adereza el Rei de nobles pannos pribados,

Los mejores que abia en todos sus reinados;

Dijole el Rei, “Ermano acabado,

Ruegote que te alegres e fagas lo que te mando.

“Ir tu a nuesos ermanos i bere en que andan,

O que querran fazer, e bere que demandan.”

Quando el Rei fue a ellos fallolos que pensaban,

Tristes e mal andantes con berguenza andaban.

Firio el Rei en la mesa como de primero;

El son escuitaba el buen Rei berdadero,

Disendoles, “Que dize este son certero?”

I dijeronle ellos, “No lo entendemos a fe, caballero.”

“Dize aqueste son, que todos abeis pecado

De setenta annos aca, que no os abeis tornado.”

E comenzaron de plorar e dijeron, “Sennor onrrado,

Quierenos perdonar e del maior ende abras grado.

“E no cates a nos, que andamos en bano,

Mas cata a nueso padre que ia es anciano,

Que si tu le conocieses a nueso padre el cano,

Luego le embiaras al preso nueso ermano.”

E quando oiera el nombre de Jacob nombrar

Afligiosele el corazon i el Rei cuido llorar;

Dijoles, “Amigos, sino fuera por acatar

A bueso padre Jacob, io bos faria matar.”

Dijoles el Rei, “Id buesa carrera;

No bos e menester por ninguna manera;

Bueso padre me rogo por su carta berdadera

Que luego os embiase en toda manera.”

Bolbieronse al Rei de cabo a rogar,

Que les diese a su ermano e los quiera guiar,

Que a su padre prometieron de sin él no tornar,

E que tomase al uno de ellos e lo pusiese en su lugar.

Dijoles el Rei, “Eso no seria razon

Que io tomase al catibo e dejase al ladron;

Id de aqui; no me enojeis que me haiceis gran sermon,

I empezad de caminar que no abreis mas razon.”

I apartaronse a consejo en que manera farian,

O a su padre que razon le darian,

O si por fuerza de alli lo sacarian,

E la fe que dieron como se la tendrian.

Comenzó de dezir Judas el maior,

“Id a bueso padre e contadle la razon,

Que su filho ha furtado, fizo nos desonor,

Que el Rei lo tiene preso por furto de grand balor.

“Porque sepades, ermanos, que io de aqui no partiria,

Que todos le prometimos de no fazerle falsia,

Ni a nueso padre mentir no le poria;

Fasta que el Rei lo mande, io de aqui no iria.

“Mas fagamos tanto, si nos caie en grado,

Bolbamos al Rei, i roguemosle pribado,

I, si no lo quiere fazer, pongamos i a recaudo,

Conbatiremos el castillo i en la cibdad entramos.

“Io fallo en la cibdad nuebe barrios granados,

I el palacio del Rei al un costado,

Io combatiré al Rei e matarle e a recaudo,

I bosotros a la cibdad cada uno a su barrio.”

I dentro Judas al Rei, sannudo como un leon,

Dijo, “Ruegote, Rei, que me des un don,

Que me des a mi ermano, i abernos gualardon,

I, sino lo quieres fazer, tomar no quieres onor.

“Que si echo una boz como faze el cabron,

No fincara en la comarca muger ni baron,

Ni aun prennada que no crie la sazon,

Todos amortecidos caeran a baldon.”

Dijoles el Rei, “Faced lo que querrades,

Que en mal grado os lo pongo, si bos no lo fazedes,

Que si bos sois de fuerza, otros ne fallaredes,

Que en lugar sois agora e menester lo abredes.”

Judas se ensanno de una sanna mui airada;

El tomo una muela mucho grande i pesada,

I echola por cima del muro como a una manzana,

I mandola bolber al Rei a su lugar sitiada.

Allegose el Rei a la muela pribado,

I puso el pie en el olhola mui irado,

Mui alta por cima del muro denque por él no era posada,

E la falda no era arremangada.

Judas en aquella hora empezose de ensannar,

I el Rei como lo conocia dejole bien hinchar,

E, quando entendio que abia de baciar,

Senno a su filho que lo fuese a tocar.

E lebantose su filho e fuele a tomar,