Читать книгу History of Spanish and Portuguese Literature (Vol. 1&2) - Friedrich Bouterwek - Страница 44

Table of Contents

In the reign of Charles V. amidst a throng of diversified talent, and during the conflict between the old and new poetic styles, the Spanish drama began to flourish. Considered in a literary point of view, it can scarcely be said to have existed before that period; but it arose under happier auspices than those which about the same period accompanied the birth of the Italian drama, to which the struggle between the learned and the popular burlesque styles afforded less hope of success. The sacred and profane pastoral dialogues of Juan de la Enzina were, at the commencement of the sixteenth century, still the only dramatic compositions in the Spanish language, to which any degree of literary respect was attached, and they were, by especial favour, allowed to be performed at court.275 With the exception of mysteries, spiritual moralities, and burlesque representations of religious ceremonies, the Spanish nation, at this time, knew nothing of dramatic entertainments. No poet of reputation had hitherto devoted his attention to this species of composition; but the nation evinced by its attachment to those rude exhibitions, that tenacity which is a great feature in its character, and which even in matters of taste permits no reform to take place which does not perfectly accord with the inclination of the public. This constancy of the national character must never for a moment be lost sight of, while tracing the history of the Spanish drama; but even with this peculiar circumstance carefully kept in view, it is still impossible to give a very satisfactory account of the early progress of dramatic poetry among the Spaniards; for the notices which must be resorted to for that purpose, are both defective and confused.276

It is above all things necessary to begin by distinguishing the three or four parties, which on totally different principles endeavoured to cultivate dramatic poetry in Spain, and which appear to have been hitherto overlooked by the writers on Spanish literature, merely because each of those parties pursued its object, without openly declaring war against the others. Critical cultivation was not yet so far advanced in Spain as to open a field for literary warfare. But the heterogeneous nature of the Spanish dramas of the first half and ten following years of the sixteenth century, renders it evident, on a very slight examination, that the authors who composed them must have been influenced by different views.277

The party called the erudite, was the first which at that period laboured to introduce into Spain a style of dramatic literature, worthy to be called national. This party consisted of men of information and taste, though possessing but little knowledge of the true art of dramatic poetry, and still less of imagination. These men, like a similar party in Italy, endeavoured to form the modern drama on the model of the antique. As, however, the most zealous among them did not possess sufficient talent to imitate the ancient models, they began to translate them, and performed their task in prose. A Spanish translation of the Amphitryon of Plautus, by Villalobos, physician to Charles V. was printed in 1515. Shortly afterwards there appeared a new translation of the same drama, by Perez de Oliva, a prose writer of considerable merit, who will be further noticed in the course of this history. Perez de Oliva even ventured to make a prose version of the Electra of Sophocles. This unfortunate attempt appeared under the title of La Venganza de Agamemnon.278 He also translated the Hecuba of Euripides. At a somewhat later period the Portuguese comedies of Vasconcellos, written in the manner of Plautus, were published in the Castilian language. Translations of several comedies of Plautus subsequently appeared, and at length Pedro Simon de Abril published a complete translation of Terence, which is still much esteemed by the Spaniards.279 Thus it was not the fault of the erudite party that the Spanish drama did not resemble the ancient. But to introduce in Spain the tragic style of the classic drama, in all its poetic purity, or even the style of the ancient comedies in iambic verse, was an idea which could only have originated with scholars who did not understand the character of the Spanish public. The translators, therefore, even those who endeavoured to conciliate the public taste by prose versions, formed, with their learned friends, a solitary party. No first rate poet arose in Spain, like Ariosto in Italy, to amuse and instruct the public by original dramatic compositions on the classic model. It is possible that essays in the ancient manner may have been performed on some Spanish stage, particularly at Seville, but they are now totally lost; and no attempt seems ever to have been made to represent Spanish translations of Greek and Latin plays.

The party of the dramatic moralists approximated the closest to that which has just been described. The interlocutory romance of Cœlestina,280 or Calistus and Melibœa, poor in invention, but possessing in its natural descriptions of common life, an attraction for many readers, was, on account of its moral tendency, admired as a master-piece of dramatic art. As this dramatic romance was called a comedy or tragi-comedy, some of its admirers conceived themselves bound to write comedies and tragi-comedies in the same style for the moral benefit of society. Whether these productions were, or were not, calculated for representation, seems never to have been a subject of consideration with their authors. They were content if the scenes which they strung together exhibited in natural language the lowest pictures of common life, and forcibly marked the dangers attendant on vice. To do this requires only an ordinary share of talent, and accordingly Cœlestina was followed by a torrent of similar “Mirrors of Sin” in the Castilian language. The greater number appeared during the first half of the sixteenth century, or shortly afterwards; and among them were Policiana, entitled a tragedy;281 Perseus and Tibaldea, a comedy; De la hechicera (of the Witch), a comedy; Florinea, a comedy, &c. The author of a work of this kind, entitled La Doleria del Sueño del Mundo, (the Anguish of the Sleep of the World,) mentions in his title-page, that it is a comedy in the style of philosophic morality, (Comedia tratada por via de philosophia moral.) All these insipid moral lessons were read and admired in their day; but their extreme length prevented them from getting possession of the stage.282

Equally removed from the moral and the erudite party, was Bartholomè Torres Naharro, a man doubtless of extraordinary talent. He was the founder of a third party, which uniting with a fourth, that had for a short interval preceded it, ultimately triumphed as the only national party, and obtained exclusive control over the Spanish drama. It is a singular circumstance, and yet one to which the historians of Spanish literature have not called the attention of their readers, that Cervantes in his comic sketch of the early History of the Spanish Drama, mentions not a syllable respecting Torres Naharro, while the editor of Cervantes’s comedies, who has prefixed to them that sketch, declares, in his preface, Torres Naharro to be the real inventor of the forms of the Spanish comedy. Torres Naharro was born in the little town of Torre, on the Portuguese frontiers, and flourished in the beginning of the sixteenth century. Of the history of his life but little is known. All accounts, however, agree in describing him to have been an ecclesiastic and a man of learning. After a shipwreck which involved him in various adventures, he arrived at Rome during the pontificate of Leo X. In that friend of genius he found a distinguished patron. It is, however, extremely improbable, that his comedies were performed before the pope at Rome, though such an assertion has been made by Spanish writers, and has given offence to some Italians. It is certainly by no means likely, that an occurrence so unusual, should have escaped the notice of all Italian authors; and Pope Leo can scarcely be supposed to have had any strong inducement to study the Spanish language which is not agreeable to Italian ears. It is more probable that Naharro’s comedies were represented in Naples, for there a Spanish audience was to be found; and Naharro himself proceeded to Naples when the difficulties into which his satirical writings involved him, obliged him to quit Rome.

The above are the only particulars that can be obtained respecting the life of this extraordinary man; and it is not certain how far they can be relied on, as they are gathered from writers who do not mention the sources from whence they derived their information.283 It is not improbable that Naharro’s comedies were performed only in Naples, and not in Spain, where there was no theatre suited to their representation; for according to the account of Cervantes, who speaks as an eye-witness, the whole apparatus of a Spanish theatre, about the middle of the sixteenth century, consisted of a few boards and benches, and a wardrobe, and decorations, which were contained in a sack.

But whatever may have been the fate of the comedies of Naharro, with respect to the stage in Spain, they were certainly printed along with the other poetic works of the author, in the year 1521, or at latest in 1533, under the learned title of Propaladia, intended to signify exercises in the school of Pallas.284 Judging from the accounts given of these dramas by various writers, there is very little doubt that Torres Naharro was the real inventor of the Spanish comedy. He not only wrote his eight comedies in redondillas in the romance style, but he also endeavoured to establish the dramatic interest solely on an ingenious combination of intrigues, without attaching much importance to the developement of character, or the moral tendency of the story. It is besides probable, that he was the first who divided plays into three acts, which being regarded as three days labour in the dramatic field, were called jornadas.285 It must, therefore, be unreservedly admitted, that these dramas, considered both with respect to their spirit and their form, deserve to be ranked as the first in the history of the Spanish national drama; for in the same path which Torres Naharro first trod, the dramatic genius of Spain advanced to the point attained by Calderon, and the nation tolerated no dramas except those which belonged to the style which had thus been created.

It would appear, however, that there was something in the plays of Naharro which did not precisely harmonize with the taste of the Spanish public, for they were banished from literature and thrown into oblivion by the prose dramas which Cervantes saw represented in his youth. The author of these pieces, in which songs are sometimes episodically introduced, was Lope de Rueda, a native of Seville. This man, who was a gold-beater by trade, and who had received no literary education, was notwithstanding endowed with a strong genius for the dramatic art. Cervantes styles him the great Lope de Rueda. He did not compose his plays in the character of an author. He was at the head of a little company of players of whom he was himself the ablest; and his own taste and that of the public required only such pieces as could be easily represented on his wretched stage which consisted merely of a few planks of wood. The most prominent characters in Lope de Rueda’s dramatic compositions, were those which the author himself performed, and which, according to the testimony of Cervantes, he delineated in a highly natural style. In fools, roguish servants, biscayan boors, and such like characters, he particularly excelled. He did not neglect to avail himself of the accidental union of the Spanish drama with pastoral poetry, and he wrote some pastoral dialogues (coloquios pastoriles) in prose. On this account his theatrical wardrobe, of which Cervantes gives a humorous description, contained four shepherds dresses of white fur, trimmed with gold, an equal number of wigs and shepherds crooks, and likewise four beards. The beards, it would appear were indispensable in comedies of every kind; and the public became so accustomed to call an old man’s part in comedy the beard, that the theatrical term barba was retained even after the custom of wearing beards had long been exploded from the stage.

Juan Timoneda has made careful collections of the comedies and pastoral dramas of Lope de Rueda, by which we are enabled to judge of the literary merit of these works, divested of the advantage which they must have derived from the living representation of their author. Timoneda, who was a bookseller in Valencia, was the friend and enthusiastic admirer of Lope de Rueda; but in regard to literary acquirements he ranked somewhat higher than that actor. He was indeed a man of genius and talent, as is evident from his novels, which are little known, and which have yet to be more particularly noticed in this work. He printed in small collections, the pastoral dialogues and plays of Lope de Rueda, making such alterations as were necessary both in the language and style.286 These productions equally indicate the experienced master in the developement of character, and the untutored pupil of nature following his own caprice. Lope de Rueda’s pastoral dialogues possess more dignity, if the term may be used, than his plays, and they are moreover imbued with a certain poetic character which harmonizes admirably with the songs occasionally introduced. With regard to invention and style, however, there is but little difference between the dialogues and the plays, but the pastoral costume of the dramatis personæ produces a certain heterogeneous effect; for the half Arcadian, and half Spanish shepherds, are brought in contact with negresses, barbers, and other characters of common life and modern stamp. Lope de Rueda was not inattentive to general character, as is proved by his delineation of old men, clowns, &c. in which he was particularly successful. But his principal aim was to interweave in his dramas, a succession of intrigues; and, as he seems to have been a stranger to the art of producing stage effect by striking situations, he made complication the great object of his plots. Thus mistakes, arising from personal resemblances, exchanges of children, and such like common place subjects of intrigue, form the ground work of his stories, none of which are remarkable for ingenuity of invention. There is usually a multitude of characters in his dramas, and jests and witticisms are freely introduced, but these in general consist of burlesque disputes in which some clown is engaged.287

It would appear that many comedies in Rueda’s style were at one time acted, though they are now lost to literature. Cervantes, for instance, praises the perfection to which that style of comic drama had been brought by a player, named Naharro of Toledo, who must not be confounded with Torres Naharro. Cervantes informs us, that this Naharro augmented the theatrical wardrobe so considerably, that it could no longer be contained in a bag, but was packed up in boxes and chests. He exploded the custom of dressing the old characters in beards, and removed the orchestra, which had previously been stationed behind the scenes, to the front of the stage. He moreover exhibited imitations of clouds, of thunder and lightning, made other great improvements in the scenic machinery, (tramoyas), and even introduced single combats and battles on the stage. His name certainly deserves to be preserved from oblivion; and it is unfortunate that Cervantes has neglected to mention what kind of poetry or prose was spoken by the actors in these new dramatic spectacles.

A Spanish author of learning and merit, named Juan de la Cueva, who lived about this period, seems to have been the first to perceive that the Spanish drama could never succeed, if men of literary acquirements, endowed with genius for dramatic composition, continued opposed to the popular party. This meritorious author was a native of Seville, which at that time appears to have been the cradle of every kind of talent. The history of his life is enveloped in obscurity, and his various writings, in every class of poetry, notwithstanding the praises which critics have bestowed on them, are, though not totally sunk into oblivion, very little known.288 His copious Art of Poetry in tercets, which was lately, for the first time, published from manuscript, contains some important information relative to the history of Spanish poetry. It is, however, merely written in good versified prose, and pure language, but is in no respect poetical.289 This Art of Poetry, if so it must be called, shews, among other things, how numerous was the party which at that time endeavoured to give to the Spanish drama the form of the antique. An author, named Malara, a native of Seville, who was called the Betisian Menander, in allusion to the Betis or Gaudalquivir, and six other poets of that city, among whom is Gutierre de Cetina, the celebrated author of several Spanish comedies in the ancient style, are honourably mentioned by Juan de la Cueva. But this judicious writer maintained that there were peculiarities in the ancient drama, which, though excellent in themselves, would not accord with the spirit of the moderns. The dramatic laws of the ancients had, in his opinion, ceased to be obligatory; and he conceived it to be reasonable that dramatic fictions should be accommodated to the taste of the age and to the circumstances in which they are written.290 The Spanish public had already manifested a strong predilection for plays in the modern style, and an aversion equally decided from all the imitations of the dramatic works of the ancients. It was therefore designedly and with a persevering industry that the Spaniards had struck out for themselves a new course in dramatic literature. In genius and taste they could only have vied with the Greeks and Romans, without surpassing them; but invention, grace, ingenious arrangement, and a certain art of involving and unravelling the plot, which foreigners could not imitate, were the qualities on which the glory of the Spanish drama was destined to be founded.291 Juan de la Cueva proceeds to state, that on these principles he had no scruple in contributing to overthrow the ancient boundary between tragedy and comedy; and to introduce on the stage, for the sake of variety, characters clad in the rustic peasant’s garb, along with others attired in the robes of royalty. Thus far he trod in the footsteps of Torres Naharro. And yet he appears to have had no distinct knowledge of the writings of that author; for he never mentions them; while, on the other hand, speaking of his own works, he observes that he had abandoned the old custom of dividing dramatic pieces into five acts, and chose in preference the new method, then in vogue, of arranging them in jornadas.292 Cervantes must of course have been ignorant of the decided testimony thus given by Juan de la Cueva, since he imagines that he was himself the first to introduce the three divisions of the Spanish drama. The approbation bestowed on Cueva’s dramatic works, in the new style, seems, however, to have been but feeble and transitory; and this explains how the editor of Cervantes’s comedies, in his account of the early history of the Spanish drama, has omitted to mention the name of Cueva.

It will, perhaps, be proper to defer entering more fully into the investigation of the peculiar spirit of the Spanish national drama, until the writings of Lope de Vega come under consideration; for during the brilliant career of that author, the new form of the drama took complete possession of the Spanish theatre, and the older pieces, which did not fall in with the popular taste, were speedily forgotten by the public, as the notices of Cervantes clearly shew. But it may be proper here once for all to remind the reader of a truth now historically demonstrated, namely, that it was by no means ignorance, or want of intimacy with the dramatic works of the ancients, which facilitated the triumph of the modern Spanish drama.

No sufficiently authenticated particulars enable the literary historian to furnish any thing like positive information respecting the history of the spiritual dramas of the Spaniards at the period now under review. Considered generally their origin is sufficiently known; for dramas of this kind, intended either for amusement or instruction, were, in the middle ages, performed throughout the whole of the south of Europe. In Spain, pilgrims assiduously devoted themselves to the dramatic representation of sacred histories, when they wished to find an edifying and agreeable relaxation from their severer duties of praying and journeying from place to place. In these sacred dramas, the authors often interwove the adventures, whether serious or comic, in which they had been engaged, or described what they had seen and learnt in their holy pilgrimages; and the whole was usually seasoned with a sufficient quantity of jests in the popular style. To manifest in as palpable a way as possible the power of the sacrament, and the miraculous effects of faith, were the great objects of the pilgrims; and there seems to be no doubt that their rude efforts formed the origin of that class of spiritual plays, which, at a subsequent period, were performed on the festival of Corpus Christi, and on other solemn occasions; and which, from their allusion to the mystery of the sacrament, were styled Autos Sacramentales. But at what particular period examples of these spiritual exhibitions were first committed to writing, and formed a portion of literature, cannot now be ascertained. They have sometimes been confounded with the lives of the saints (vidas de santos293), which were originally dramatized in monasteries, and performed by the pupils of the monks, but which are in fact quite a distinct class of representations. Up to the middle of the eighteenth century the practice of acting these biographical dramas was continued in monasteries in different parts of Spain, particularly in Galicia;294 and perhaps in that province they yet afford a source of amusement and edification on festival days, to the pilgrims who visit the shrine of St. Iago de Compostela.

The burlesque interludes, called Entremeses and Saynetes, which were subsequently divided into various kinds, and were performed between the preludes (loas) and the play, properly so called, appear also to have had their origin in the first half of the sixteenth century. Cervantes could refer to no entremeses of an older date, when he contributed to give to this class of dramatic compositions a literary form and character.

What has been stated sufficiently proves the powerful control which the public exercised over the stage. The popular taste demanded an agreeable amusement, created by the boldest and most varied mixture of the serious and the comic, of intrigues, sallies of the imagination and ingenious thoughts, of surprises and animated situations; but it was not required that either a comic or a tragic scene should tend to produce any moral impression on the heart, except indeed in so far as that object may be attributed to the spiritual pieces. But how did it happen that a people in whom moral gravity has ever been a national characteristic, should thus shew themselves indifferent to the moral effects of their dramatic entertainments. The history of the formation of the Spanish character appears to disclose the cause of this incongruity so clearly, that it might be said, nature would have contradicted herself, had not such been the consequence resulting from that cause. When the treasures of America came to be dispersed through Spain, luxury and extravagance superseded the old Spanish simplicity. The age of chivalry was past; and the ecclesiastical fetters imposed upon opinion and conscience, afforded so little freedom to the mind, that it was not possible the public could endure, still less enjoy, moral reflection on the stage. The Spaniard, as a catholic Christian, devoutly and implicitly submitted his understanding to the doctrines and mandates of the church; but as a man he ardently longed for amusements, in which he might allow his heart freely to participate. Moral reflection then could not be pleasing in any place where he sought to be gratified by the unconstrained exercise of his feelings; for every moral thought tended to revive the recollection of the inquisition. Meanwhile the progress of luxury and the love of pleasure stimulated the imagination, and increased the appetite for sports of wit and fancy, which were pushed to the most extravagant excess. A people of an ardent and enthusiastic temperament, which a genial climate fostered, were always eager to partake of pleasures which no king or grand inquisitor threatened to disturb. With a taste thus formed, and with such claims on dramatic entertainment, the Spaniards were not to be satisfied with the most ingenious comedies or tragedies, unless the wildest revels of the imagination and a succession of joyous and luxuriant forms agitated and interested the mind, and freed it from all the fetters of maxims and rules of art. To see a variegated ideal world, a diversified picture of romantic existence, was the object for which the Spaniard visited the theatre, where he could endure no sort of regularity, not even that which the nature of the subject seemed most to require.

This portion of the history of Spanish dramatic poetry must not be terminated without a particular notice of two tragedies by Geronymo Bermudez, a Dominican monk of Galicia, who, at the period when he wrote them, was probably the inmate of a cloister.295 He did not think proper to acknowledge himself the author of these dramas, and he published them under the assumed name of Antonio de Silva.296 Among his other poetical works, some Spanish writers mention in terms of respect, a dull encomium on the Duke of Alba, of whom this ecclesiastic was an enthusiastic admirer.297 He lived until the year 1589. His two tragedies are imitations of the ancient drama, but they must not be confounded with the essays of the same kind, which have already been mentioned. Bermudez conceived the happy idea of selecting a subject from the history of Spain and Portugal, and dramatizing it according to the rules of the Greek tragedy, without destroying the modern character of his materials. The well known story of the unfortunate Ines de Castro, seemed particularly suited to the object he had in view. Being a Galician, he had, through his native language, a national relationship to Portugal, and he consequently took more personal interest in the tragical fate of his heroine, than was felt by Spaniards in general. He did not commence his task without apprehension of its success; for, as a Spaniard, he wished to write in Castilian, and he was, therefore, in some measure, under the necessity of studying a foreign language. This difficulty he mentions in his preface. But with all its faults, his attempt proved so fortunate, that his two tragedies may justly be styled the first in their kind. Though they are intimately connected, yet each forms in itself a complete tragic drama. Their titles are whimsical and affected: the first is denominated, Nise Lastimosa, (the Lamentable Nise); and the second, Nise Laureada, (Nise Crowned with Glory).298 The characters preserve their historical names. The first of these tragedies sufficiently proves what may be effected by a poet, even of moderate talent, when thoroughly penetrated with a poetic subject, and at the same time possessing the power of expression. The Nise Lastimosa, it is true, is far from approaching the ideal of tragic perfection; but some of the scenes fulfil all that the theory of the dramatic art can require; and energy and dignity of expression are not wanting even in those passages where the action is tedious and the incidents ill-connected. The plot is simple, and towards the conclusion its interest declines. But Bermudez has introduced, with alternate instances of remarkable dexterity and clumsiness, a chorus composed of Coimbran women, which is sometimes interwoven with the action of the drama, and sometimes quite independent of it. The unities of time and place the author has totally disregarded. The first act opens with a soliloquy by the Prince Don Pedro, which is beautiful, though somewhat too long. In it the prince deplores his separation from his beloved wife.299 This soliloquy is succeeded by a long conversation between the prince and his secretary, in which the latter, with all due courtesy, hints that the attachment of the prince for a lady, not of royal birth, is incompatible with the welfare of the state.300 The scene then changes, and the chorus of Coimbran women is very absurdly introduced to moralize on love. Thus closes the first act. In the second, the scene changes to the court, and exhibits the king amidst his assembled council; the advice of the ministers prevails over the good disposition of the monarch, and he consents to the death of Ines de Castro. A soliloquy by the king follows, in which he offers up his prayers. The scene again changes, and the fair Coimbrans once more appear to moralize on human happiness. In the third act, however, a new spirit is infused into the piece, and the chorus partakes in the action. Ines de Castro appears. The women of the chorus form her attendants, and offer her consolation and advice. Ines is informed of the reports that are circulated respecting her fate;301 but throughout this act, the progress of the story is nearly suspended. The fourth act may, however, be accounted almost a masterpiece. Ines attended by her children and the chorus, appears before the king to receive her sentence. Nothing can be more impressive than the dignity with which she demands justice, or more affecting than the tenderness towards her children, which continually breaks forth in her discourse; at length she pictures to herself in vivid colours, the sorrows that await her husband, till exhausted by the vehemence of her feelings, and gradually losing the use of her faculties, she begins for the first time to think of her own situation, anticipates the horrors of death, and swoons, exclaiming Jesus Maria! This scene exhibits a picture so replete with real pathos, that it may be truly said, modern tragic art has seldom attained so high a point of perfection.302 The fifth act is merely a tedious supplement. The prince is made acquainted with the death of his wife, and he vents his sorrow in long lamentations.

The tragedy of Nise Laureada is far inferior to that just described. The story is below criticism; and towards the end becomes revolting to feelings, which are not blunted by inquisitorial horrors, or sunk to the level of brutality. The Prince Don Pedro who has now ascended the throne, orders the remains of his judicially murdered wife to be taken from the tomb; he then, with great solemnity, invests the corpse with the dignity of queen, and the ceremony of the coronation is succeeded by a marriage. Two of the counsellors, whose perverted and inhuman patriotism had urged them to sacrifice the unhappy Ines, receive sentence of death and are executed. This is the whole plot, if so it may be called; and among the acting and speaking characters the executioners play a prominent part. The first act contains many beautiful passages; but when the last judicial ceremonies commence, horror and disgust fill the mind of the reader. The hearts of both culprits are extracted from their bodies, the one through the breast, and the other through the back. The most brutal exclamations accompany the execution of the royal sentence, and the chorus utters shouts of joy, while the executioner discharges his barbarous task. That these horrors might be regarded as pathetic incidents by the Spaniards of that age, accustomed as they were from early childhood to stifle every sentiment of humanity, and to allow fanatical exultation to overcome the natural emotions of the heart, whenever a brutal sentence was pronounced by ecclesiastical, or royal authority, is unfortunately but too probable. Had it not been for this perversion of feeling, a people, otherwise so noble-minded, could not have attended the cruel festivals of their church, and witnessed the burning of Jews and heretics with as much pleasure as the exhibition of a bull fight.

In order to form a just estimate of the talent of Bermudez, it must be recollected that he was the first who conceived the idea of giving a poetic colouring to the history of Ines de Castro. Camoens had not, at that time, written his Lusiad, in which the same story forms the subject of a celebrated episode. It may also be observed, that the labour which Bermudez bestowed on his versification, and particularly on the varied metres of the choruses of his dramas, ought to have served as an example to his successors in tragic composition.