Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700) [1 ed.] 9789027289056, 9789027224293

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Benjamins Translation Library (BTL) The BTL aims to stimulate research and training in translation and interpreting studies. The Library provides a forum for a variety of approaches (which may sometimes be conflicting) in a socio-cultural, historical, theoretical, applied and pedagogical context. The Library includes scholarly works, reference books, postgraduate text books and readers in the English language.

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General Editor

Associate Editor

Honorary Editor

Yves Gambier

Miriam Shlesinger

Gideon Toury

Rosemary Arrojo

Zuzana Jettmarová

Rosa Rabadán

Michael Cronin

Werner Koller

Sherry Simon

Daniel Gile

Alet Kruger

Mary Snell-Hornby

José Lambert

Sonja Tirkkonen-Condit

John Milton

Maria Tymoczko

University of Turku

Bar-Ilan University Israel

Tel Aviv University

Advisory Board Binghamton University Dublin City University Université Paris 3 - Sorbonne Nouvelle

Ulrich Heid

University of Stuttgart

Amparo Hurtado Albir

Universitat Autónoma de Barcelona

W. John Hutchins

University of East Anglia

Charles University of Prague Bergen University UNISA, South Africa Catholic University of Leuven University of São Paulo

Franz Pöchhacker

University of Vienna

Anthony Pym

University of León Concordia University University of Vienna University of Joensuu

University of Massachusetts Amherst

Lawrence Venuti

Temple University

Universitat Rovira i Virgili

Volume 85 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700) by Jorge Braga Riera

Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700) Jorge Braga Riera Complutense University of Madrid

John Benjamins Publishing Company Amsterdam / Philadelphia

8

TM

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences – Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ansi z39.48-1984.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Braga Riera, Jorge. Classical Spanish drama in Restoration English (1660-1700) / by Jorge Braga Riera. p. cm. (Benjamins Translation Library, issn 0929-7316 ; v. 85) Based on thesis (Ph.D.)--Universidad de Oviedo, 2006. Orginally presented as: La traducción al inglés en el siglo XVII: las comedias del Siglo de Oro español (2006, University of Oviedo). Includes bibliographical references and index. 1. Spanish drama--Translations into English--History and criticism. 2. Translating and interpreting--England--History--17th century. 3. Spanish language-Translating into English--History. I. Title. PQ6044.B63

2009

862’.309--dc22 isbn 978 90 272 2429 3 (hb; alk. paper) isbn 978 90 272 8905 6 (eb)

2009021989

© 2009 – John Benjamins B.V. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, by print, photoprint, microfilm, or any other means, without written permission from the publisher. John Benjamins Publishing Co. · P.O. Box 36224 · 1020 me Amsterdam · The Netherlands John Benjamins North America · P.O. Box 27519 · Philadelphia pa 19118-0519 · usa

Table of contents Acknowledgments Introduction

ix xi

part i.  Background chapter 1 On drama translation 1.1 The “cultural turn” and the translation of drama  3 1.2 Constraints and peculiarities of translating theatre  7 1.2.1 The choice of language  8 1.2.2 The singularities of theatre translation  15 1.2.2.1 Phonology  16 1.2.2.2 Syntax  17 1.2.2.3 Non-verbal: gestures  18 1.2.2.4 Other stage components  19 1.2.2.5 Factors peripheral to performance  21 1.2.2.6 Translation and culture  22 1.2.2.7 The figure of the translator  26 1.2.2.8 Translation or adaptation?  28 chapter 2 The translation of the Spanish classics in Restoration England 2.1 Drama translation theory in seventeenth-century England  35 2.2 The reception of Golden Age Spanish comedies  39 2.2.1 The Hispanic presence in English theatre: 1600–1642  40 2.2.2 The Interregnum (1642 -1660)  48 2.2.3 The Restoration period: historical and cultural context  50 2.2.4 English Restoration drama  53 2.2.5 Spanish comedies and Restoration theatre  55

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35

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

part ii.  Spanish comedias in English translation (1660–1700) chapter 3 Translators and translations 3.1 The trouble with the sources  63 3.2 Translators and plays  79 3.2.1 The translators  80 3.2.2 The plots in source and target texts  83 3.2.3 The list of characters  90 3.2.4 The translation of titles  96 3.3 The structure of the translated plays  101 3.3.1 The division of the action  101 3.3.2 The three unities: action, place and time  108 3.3.3 The treatment of verse  119 3.3.4 The stage directions  127 3.3.5 Prologues, epilogues, letters and songs  136 chapter 4 Extralinguistic factors 4.1 Rhythm and versification  150 4.2 The relevance of gesture  152 4.3 Theatre building and stage components  158 4.4 Factors peripheral to performance  167 4.5 The translators’ profiles  173 4.6 The influence of dramatic culture  176 chapter 5 Culture 5.1 The translation of proper nouns  179 5.1.1 Anthroponyms  181 5.1.2 Toponyms  197 5.2 The translation of cultural references  204 5.2.1 Culture-specific items  205 5.2.2 Other cultural references  212 chapter 6 The translation of the typical comedia motifs 6.1 Humour  219 6.1.1 Stage comicicity  223 6.1.1.1 Paralinguistic and stylistic elements  224

63

149

179

219



Table of contents 

6.1.1.2 Gesture  233 6.1.1.3 Proxemics  240 6.1.1.4 Stage space and scenography  242 6.1.1.5 Costume  244 6.1.1.6 Makeup and hairstyle  248 6.1.1.7 Figures of ridicule  249 6.1.1.8 Props  255 6.1.1.9 Music and song  259 6.1.1.10 Lighting  261 6.1.1.11 Rupture of the stage illusion  263 6.1.2 Textual comicity  267 6.1.2.1 Wordplay  267 6.1.2.2 Comic neologisms  275 6.1.2.3 Repartee  277 6.2.1.4 Double entendre  281 6.1.2.5 Asides  283 6.1.2.6 Miscellaneous  286

6.2 Love and women  289 6.3 Honour  299 6.3.1 Honour as reputation  301 6.3.2 Honour as social rank  304 6.3.3 Honour as a synonym of chastity  305

afterword The comedia revisited: New challenges in the twenty-first century

309

References a. Play editions  313 b. Other editions  313 c. General Bibliography  313 d. Dictionaries  325

313

Index

327

Acknowledgments This volume is based on my doctoral dissertation La traducción al inglés en el siglo XVII: las comedias del Siglo de Oro español (2006, University of Oviedo), which won the EST Young Scholar Award in 2007. Therefore, it is only fitting that my first words of gratitude should be for Dr. Marta Mateo Martínez-Bartolomé, for it is her profound knowledge of dramatic translation, her intensive corrections and invaluable advice, accompanied by her unfailing encouragement, that have made it possible for this book to finally see the light of day. I should also like to express my thanks to all those who, by their support and confidence, have not ceased to urge me on, with a special mention for Emilio. I am also indebted to the inestimable collaboration of Garth Stobbs. Finally, I want to dedicate this book to my family: my parents, brother, sisters and nephews (Carlos & Pablo), who have simply made my existence so much happier.

Introduction In his article “What Lies beyond Descriptive Translation Studies?” (1997), Gideon Toury urged translation scholars not to limit themselves to descriptive studies of this discipline as an end in itself, but on the basis of the discoveries made in an initial contrastive study, to go one step further in their analysis. Toury’s proposal is made in the context of the dominant trend in Translation Studies over the last two decades, of which he has been one of the principal proponents: Descriptive Studies of Translation, that is, those which, far from focusing on what translation should or should not be, attempt to analyse and understand what are the initial possible options determined by various factors and contexts. Starting from this premise, Toury suggests four phenomena for study: texts that are considered translations and have functioned as such, the relationships between a translation and the text that has served as its immediate source, the strategies employed in the process and, finally, the function the resulting text has in the target culture, that is, its position in the receptor society (Toury 1997: 71). This last aspect acquires a special relevance, since the study of a translation should never lose sight of the functions for which it was intended. Suppression and addition therefore appear as totally legitimate strategies to achieve a perfect adjustment of the text to the recipient culture. When we undertake a study of this kind we cannot take as the starting point an arbitrary selection of translations; on the contrary, far from pretending to formulate universal generalisations, our conclusions will have greater validity if we analyse the behaviour of a well-defined corpus. An appropriate selection of texts will allow us to determine more coherently the behaviour of the translators and the results of their activity. This present work is not intended, therefore, to be a prescriptive study of what Spanish Golden Age translators should or should not have done; rather, in the conviction that translation studies should move away from sterile, decontextualised debates, it will follow the descriptive trend of the last two decades and show what the translators under study actually did by focusing on some Restoration works which make up our particular corpus. The translations will be defined as such with reference to the target system into which they are incorporated, and not only in relation to the original texts. It will therefore be the needs and expectations of the destination culture that will determine how it is preferable to translate. What is more, the translator and his product may be affected by a series of variables that

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration England (1660–1700)

is very difficult, and in some cases practically impossible, to define, such as the translators’ mastery of the source language, their experience, the context, the working conditions, the status of the original and target languages, the medium in which the translation is made and its position in the target language, the conception of translation in the period, etc. The importance of these variables is all the greater if we include the factors that condition theatre translation, given the singularity of drama. The stage experience is based on a series of acts of complicity between the actors and actresses on the one hand and the spectators on the other, establishing a mechanism of communication between them. This relationship is set within a context of certain sociocultural circumstances existing at a precise moment, which makes each performance unique, with a specific effect on the spectator. The theatre translator usually intends his or her work to produce a “similar” reaction in the audience of the target culture to that of the original, although the techniques used to achieve this will depend on the author, the translator, the culture and tradition of the language into which the work is being translated and the historical period. The difficulties inherent in the immediacy of theatrical performance are thus added to those of translation itself. In the following pages I shall attempt a descriptive analysis of the relationships between source and target texts on the basis of a corpus of Spanish comedies translated into English between 1660 and 1700, and in this way try to discover the reasons underlying certain decisions taken and determine how far various translation mechanisms were accepted in the period and the genre under study. Texts, relationships and strategies will therefore be the object of this analysis, but always from the position that the translated text is intended to occupy in the destination culture. Such a perspective requires a framework of translation theory, and it is on this that the first chapter in the first part of the book will focus, with special emphasis on theatre translation, which, as a specific area, merits an analysis to itself. Although the transfer of information from one language to another dates back to the earliest civilisations, it was not until the second half of the twentieth century that the great revolution in translation theory took place. The sixties and seventies were rich in theories with an almost exclusively linguistic bias, giving way in the eighties to descriptive notions of the work of translation, in which the text and the target culture require maximum attention. There was, then, a change of perspective, known as “cultural turn”, developed by a group of authors belonging to the socalled “Manipulation School”. It was a member of this group, James Holmes, who coined the term “Translation Studies”, and in so doing converted the activity of translation into a discipline in its own right. This turn also stimulated the interest of theorists in theatre translation, until that time largely neglected. Authors and translators became aware that the transfer



Introduction 

of dramatic texts supposes certain peculiarities that deserve special consideration: phonological and syntactic elements, gesture, stage components, the destination culture, the figure of the translator, their (in)visibility and sociohistorical context all become significant factors that the scholar must take into account. The spectator, too, is faced with a series of concepts (“adaptation”, “version”, “translation”) used to define the target text, and which are the result of the specific condition of theatre translation. The term employed, and its significance, have varied through the ages, as has the level of acceptance of Spanish comedies abroad: after various centuries of almost total oblivion, Spanish classics seem once again to be awakening the interest of English theatre-goers, recalling the incipient interest in Spanish theatre in seventeenth-century England due to the work of a small group of translators. The second chapter will deal with the presence of Spanish classics in England in the seventeenth century. Although it is true that during this century there was a marked interest in Spanish comedias, especially in the years following the Restoration, this does not mean that the adaptation of Spanish works was a prime concern; on the contrary, it was translations of the Graeco-Latin classics and religious texts that attracted most attention. Furthermore, even in the case of Romance language translations, other genres were more popular, and Spanish theatre translation was simply one of many activities, with nothing like the importance it had in countries such as France and Germany. A study of seventeenth-century English translation theory is therefore necessary if we are to understand the changes and transformations undergone by Spanish dramatic texts on the London stage of the time. Although, as we have said, theatre is something more than words, for our study the text is the only source from which we can carry out our analysis. Despite the fact some of these texts were neglected and have undergone significant changes during their transmission (they were meant to be performed, not to be read), it is only from them that we can extract all the information. As a result, and even though some visual elements can be deduced from stage directions or references by the characters, many are irrevocably lost for analysis. This is due to the large number of non-text conventions in Spanish comedy (also present in the commedia dell’arte or in French playwrights such as Molière), which mean that the texts themselves are little more than a starting point for the future mise-en-scène, a dynamic corpus to be moulded to suit the particular circumstances. It is for this reason that in the study of translations in the second part of this book we never forget that the text is an object destined for performance, and therefore the elements related to that end are not overlooked. The second chapter, too, reflects the political, historical, social and cultural context of English theatre of the time, in which, as we have said, Spanish drama made its influence felt. England turned towards Spain and its dramatists for characters and plots that might prove attractive to its audiences. This Spanish

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration England (1660–1700)

background is clear in many English plays, although it is limited to those works that may be considered more or less faithful translations of the original. Although scholars disagree as to whether certain works should be termed “translations”, “adaptations” or simply works “with Spanish influences”, all coincide in attributing to Spanish sources the five translated comedies that are the object of study here: The Adventures of Five Hours; Elvira, or The Worst Not Always True; Tarugo’s Wiles, or The Coffee-House; An Evening’s Love, or The Mock Astrologer; and Sir Courtly Nice, or It Cannot Be. These five plays, all first performed in London during the Restoration period (1660–1700), together with their corresponding source texts, will be the focus of attention of the second and central part of this book, and in its pages we shall survey the multiplicity of aspects that are closely related to the work of the theatre translator. First, we shall justify our choice of translations and examine those responsible for them, and then make our first approximation on the basis of the contrast between plots, characters and titles (chapter three). As a starting point, it is interesting to analyse how these translators organised the action of their works, the way in which they gave expression to the three unities and to verse in comparison with the guidelines dictated by Lope de Vega in his Arte nuevo de hacer comedias, as well as the treatment of stage directions and the English fondness for prologues, epilogues and songs. In spite of all this, it is impossible to avoid the dual nature of the theatrical text, the ultimate aim of which is to be performed on stage; for this reason, apart from all the textual elements, there are extralinguistic factors with a specific weight in the end result of the translation: as seen in chapter four, this is the case with the rhythm and rhyme of the work, the use of gesture and the kind of scenic space that will house the translated work, together with other factors, economic or political, that may affect the target text and are, together with the type of translator and the weight of the destination culture, key elements in understanding many of the translation strategies adopted. It is precisely culture which imposes an English stamp on many of the mechanisms employed in the translation process, and it becomes especially relevant in the way in which cultural references and proper nouns are translated into English (chapter five). In chapter six, the way in which the key themes of the Spanish comedies were received in England will be analysed, that is, the vision of love and women, of honour and, of course, humour in its different manifestations, both stage and textual. Finally, we shall briefly review the survival of Siglo de Oro comedy in the present day. While it is true that the study of the influence of Spanish literature in England is not virgin territory, not many works focus exclusively on the genre of drama, still less on the period with which we are concerned. Furthermore, those authors that



Introduction 

have compared the translations of Spanish classics during the Restoration with the originals (Allison Gaw, Patricia Seward, John Loftis, R.D. Hume and Floriana Tarantino, among others) have not done so as exhaustively as we have here, and in any case have taken a literary-comparative approach, never one that is translationbased. The novelty of this present work lies not only in its detailed study of the translations chosen, but also in how these are approached, always within the discipline of Translation Studies. In this way it aims to throw light on the reception of Spanish Golden Age theatre in the English speaking world, what texts the English public received, what they were about, why they were translated and why they took a particular form, in what sense they differed from their originals…, that is, it aims to take the “step further” suggested by Toury for descriptive analyses of translation, and, also, improve knowledge of the history of translation on the basis of a modest contribution to Translation Studies, particularly as regards drama.

part i

Background

chapter 1

On drama translation The transfer of literary texts from a language (source) to another (target) dates back to the origins of literary activity. Nonetheless, Translation Studies is a relatively new discipline, let alone Drama Translation Studies, which has remained unnoticed by most scholars until recent years. The contribution to the study of theatre translation of strictly linguistic translation theories (characteristic of the sixties and seventies) has been practically negligible. Their exclusively scientific analysis of language and the great importance given to the original text left other essential elements in the translation process to one side. Even the notion of “equivalence”, which constituted an important contribution at the time and was shared by all the currents involved, was not exempt from controversy from the moment it was formulated (Vinay & Darbelnet, Nida & Jakobson were the first to employ this concept), as it was difficult to reach agreement on its scope and meaning. The lack of clarity in this term was due both to the multiplicity of adjectives that accompanied the word “equivalence” (formal, dynamic, referential, ideal, etc.) and to the textual and extratextual factors that affect the translation process, making it very difficult to achieve a definition that would include all genres and types of translation. This became particularly evident in the case of theatre translation, as the textual context (genre and cultural elements), the end purpose of the translation (whether to be read or performed) and the sociohistorical context (the target country of the work) meant that equivalences varied and the translator would use different techniques in each case, reaching solutions that might be appropriate on some occasions but not on others. 1.1 The “cultural turn” and the translation of drama The appearance in the eighties of the term “culture” as a key concept in translation studies supposed an important shift of direction in the theories postulated until then. The process of translation, far from being a mere transfer of significants and signifiers from one language to another, could not overlook those extra-linguistic features that constitute an integral part of a text, that is, the translator could not ignore the culture of the source language, much less that of the target language. Indeed, this latter became the prime reference in the practice of translation, which

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

is, therefore, “culture bound” (Álvarez & Vidal 1996: 2). This is recognised by Bassnett (1996a: 22) when she enumerates the five steps that the theatre translator should follow when faced with a specific problem in drama translation (although they may also be applicable to other genres):

(1) Accept the untranslatability of the SL phrase in the TL on the linguistic level.



(2) Accept the lack of a similar cultural convention in the TL.



(3) Consider the range of TL phrases available, having regard to the presentation of class, status, age, sex of the speaker, his relationship to the listeners and the context of their meeting in the SL.



(4) Consider the significance of the phrase in its particular context – i.e. as a moment of high tension in the dramatic text.



(5) Replace in the TL the invariant core of the SL phrase in its two referential systems (the particular system of the text and the system of culture out of which the text has sprung).

Context and the target culture are thus raised above merely linguistic considerations. Although in the late seventies researchers such as Even-Zohar or Gideon Toury contributed, with their “polysystem theory”, to an approach that, while largely historical, had a broader application in the study of translation, it was not until the eighties that what Lefevere has termed the “cultural turn” was conceptualised by a group of students in the field that included Toury, Susan BassnettMcGuire and Raymond van den Broeck. These authors, together with other translation theorists, set out their vision of translation in a series of articles that were brought together under the title The Manipulation of Literature: Studies in Literary Translation (1985). According to the theories of this school, manipulation invariably starts with the translator, who modifies the source text either to adapt it to the conventions and expectations of the code into which it is received, or to make the target text formally resemble the original as far as possible. As Snell-Hornby (1988: 24) puts it, “in this approach, translation is seen essentially as a text-type in its own right, as an integral part of the target culture and not merely as a reproduction of another text”. This explains her proposal that the old theories and methods which have contributed to the development of translation studies should be revised to create “an integrated approach that considers translation in its entirety, and not only certain forms of it” (ibid.: 26). If, according to this definition, the translation becomes an integral part of the target culture, we shall have to explain what we understand by “culture” and what exactly it is that we mean by “translating culture”. When we speak of culture, we are not referring to human intellectual capacity and its reflection in the world of arts, but rather “in the broader anthropological sense to refer to all socially conditioned



Chapter 1.  On drama translation

aspects of human life” (Hymes in Snell-Hornby 1988:  39). This concept is vital when it comes to translating diverse cultural elements since, as Vermeer affirms, “if language is an integral part of culture, the translator needs not only to be proficient in two languages, but must also be at home in two cultures. In other words, he must be bilingual and bicultural” (in Snell-Hornby 1988: 42). These two concepts, bilingualism and biculturalism, will be especially important in our study of Spanish comedias in English. This new focus in the translation process is important not only on account of its cultural, communicative and functionalist perspective, but also because, as we shall see shortly, some of the members of the Manipulation School started to research in depth the specificity of theatre translation. Snell-Hornby (1988: 43–44) summarises the main maxims of translation theory in the eighties, thus: a cultural rather than merely linguistic orientation; the concept of translation not as transcodification but as a communicative act; emphasis on the target text, and the conception of the text not as an element in isolation but as an integral part of the world in which we live. To these four characteristics should be added that proposed by Susan Bassnett (in Mateo 1995a: 27), and which appears to have dominated translation studies in the nineties: that of the visibility of the translator, in what way and in what circumstances this presence is noticed, that is, it becomes visible.1 This new image of the translator contradicts that of some scholars in the eighties (like Wellwarth, imitating Gogol), for whom “the ideal translation [is] one that is like a completely transparent pane of glass through which people can see the original without being aware of anything intervening” (Wellwarth in Espasa 2000: 57). According to this definition, the ideal translation is that which is felt to be original, in no way reflecting the hand that has made it. We shall return to this point when we come to deal with the specific complexity of theatre translation. The importance given to the translator and the continuation of the “cultural turn” that had occurred in the previous decade are two fundamental factors in the development of Translation Studies in the late nineties. Once the concept of “equivalence” had lost its key position in language transfer, the thesis began to take root that “translations are never produced in a vacuum, and that they are also never received in a vacuum” (Lefevere & Bassnett 1990: 3). The translator translates “the culture to which the text belongs, the culture the translation is aimed at, 1. This adjective takes on a special meaning in the context of theatre translation. Aaltonen (2000: 32) complains of laxness in the criteria on which translators are chosen for certain works. In some cases the original text is translated literally by one person and then adapted for the stage by another, while in others, for purely economic motives, prestigious dramatists lend their name to a translation previously made by someone else; they receive the credit and the real translator becomes an “invisible” figure consigned to anonymity.

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

and the function the text is supposed to fulfil in the culture the translation is aimed at” (ibid.: 4). This takes on particular importance in theatre translation, given the characteristics of the reception of dramatic texts. As a consequence, different translation strategies are required for different types of texts and diverse cultures. What is more, translation now appears as an instrument for the study of cultural interaction from a perspective that other fields are unable to provide, and can thus offer the researcher information on a particular culture at a specific time. This fresh use of translation (Lefevere & Bassnett 1990, Delabastita 2003) is now emerging as one of the major new areas in Translation Studies, and it still remains largely unexplored at the dawn of the new millennium. As we have mentioned above, the fact that in the eighties some translation researchers began to emphasise in their work the singularity of drama translation marked an important new starting point in this field. Until that time, disquisitions regarding drama and its translation had hardly sparked lively argument, and it is only in the last three decades that attention has begun to be paid to the drama translator, who faces difficulties different from those arising in the translation of a poem or a novel. Until well into the last century, many translation theorists had centred their attention on other genres. We may cite as examples some of the twentieth-century researchers in this field: Eugene A. Nida (1964) and Hatim & Mason (1990), immersed in linguistic areas, made no mention of it; García Yebra (1989a, 1989b and 1994) analyses the translation of verse, and even the rhythm of prose, as important problems in the process of literary translation, but does not include the theatre as a genre with its own peculiarities; Torre, in his Teoría de la traducción literaria (1994) focuses exclusively on the translation of verse, while Newmark (1988) devotes but a page to it under the heading “drama”. Even so, as we have indicated earlier, certain theorists and translators have centred on theatre translation as the subject of their research, both in Spain and abroad. It was Ortrun Zuber who, in her introduction to The Languages of Theatre (1980), affirmed that she had written “the first book focusing on translation problems unique to drama” and expressed at the same time her confidence in the creation of a new discipline: “drama in translation studies”. The same author continued working in this direction, as also did Bassnett (1991, 1996a, 1996b), Van der Broeck (1986), Törnqvist (1991), Pavis (1991, 1992), Merino (1994a, 2000), Mateo (1995a, 1995b, 1996, 1997, 2000, 2002), etc. All of these, who have devoted a considerable part of their studies to the complexity of theatre translation, insist on the singularity of drama translation and testify to the void existing in this respect. As far back as 1980, Bassnett regretted in the first edition of her Translation Studies that “whilst it seems that the bulk of genre-focused translation study involves the specific problem of translating poetry, it is also quite clear that theatre is one of the most neglected areas” (p. 120). This author also anticipated one of the key points



Chapter 1.  On drama translation

in the subsequent literature on drama translation: whether to translate the play as a work of literature or as a text whose end purpose is that it be performed. It is precisely this choice that is one of the main subjects of debate among those interested in the inherent singularities of theatre translation. 1.2 Constraints and peculiarities of translating theatre There is a basic difference between translating a theatrical work and translating novels, essays or short stories. While in these latter cases it is to the reader that the translation is directed, dramatic works may have a variety of consumers. The question we must therefore ask ourselves is: for whom is theatre translation intended? Newmark distinguishes three types of end user of the work of drama: “Whilst a great play may be translated for the reading public’s enjoyment and for scholarly study as well as for performance on stage, the translator should always assume the latter as his main purpose” (1988: 173). The target text, therefore, may fall into the hands of the reader or the student, as well as of the actor. But the question is, can one and the same translation suffice for these three different types of users, or should the translators instead modify their strategies to take account of the recipient of their work? For Newmark, as for the majority of authors who have analysed the singularities of this kind of translation, the answer is clear: the theatrical work should be translated with a view to its subsequent performance. Despite this, however, the ideal case would be that there were no differences in the final version whether it is to be read or acted. This circumstance is by no means incidental, although its effectiveness for one or other user may be questioned. The translator may rely on notes to provide clarification for the reader or director, a recourse that is not feasible if the person to whom the translation is addressed is the spectator. It would seem logical that it is the purpose of a work of theatre to be staged, but it is also true that there exist hundreds of plays, both original and in translation, that have never, or only very seldom, been performed. We should not, then, disdain the translation intended exclusively for publication in print, a medium that has played a fundamental role in the diffusion of dramatic literature. In any case, there are occasions on which what is perceived to be excellent when read appears less so when it is staged, and vice versa. There may therefore exist many translations of the same work into a particular language, as is especially evident in classical drama: some translations are appropriate for subsequent performance, while others stand out for their literary worth.2 2. Such is the case of Luis Astrana’s translation into Spanish of the works of Shakespeare, which show a wealth of notes of a philological, historical and literary nature while the verse of

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

We are not, in any case, referring to that type of theatre ‒unusual in western culture‒ which does not depend on a written format for its performance, but rather to that which derives from a text, and which Aaltonen calls “text-centred” (2000:  17). Taking the written text as his starting point, Aaltonen proposes the term theatre translation for those works intended for subsequent performance while she reserves drama translation for works that are not to be staged. The end purpose of the translated text greatly conditions, therefore, the translation strategies adopted. We shall use the two terms interchangeably, since this study starts from certain works that have been published (drama translation) but which are intended to be staged (theatre translation). For our purposes, however, we shall concentrate on theatre translation intended for performance, that is, performance oriented, as it is of much greater interest for two reasons: first, because the performable version requires special strategies of the translator which must be skilfully applied if the work is to function on stage; explanatory footnotes, acceptable in a reader-oriented version, are not possible here. Secondly, because in the seventeenth century public access to the printed word was less widespread than now; since our study centres on comedies of that century, it seems more logical to consider the actors and their audience (not only the eventual reader), but always bearing in mind that the translated version will never be an exact copy of the text as it is performed on stage.3 1.2.1 The choice of language Concentrating, then, on the performable comedy, one of the first hurdles the translator must overcome is the choice of language type: Actors must be able to wear the language of the play like clothes. They must be able to put the text on and feel they can breathe in it, move around freely and find its physical expression from within themselves. The language must be ‘natural’, by which I mean current, intelligible and meaningful at more than just a literal or the original is dispensed with. Prose has also been the medium used in the translations by José Maria Valverde destined, as he himself confirms, for the reader, not the spectator. 3. Within the field of Translation Studies, adaptation of dramatic language to the theatre stage is often referred to using the terms speakability and performability (Corrigan 1961; Snell-Hornby 1988; Bassnett 1991). Van den Broeck (1986) uses the term acceptability to refer to those texts that are to be staged, while theatricality or playability are often employed in the same sense by others. It is not my intention to enter into a debate as to the relative appropriateness of these concepts; this has been the subject of argument in recent theoretical studies on theatre translation (see Aaltonen 2000, Mateo 2000 and Espasa 2000). This last author, ironically, includes the concept of saleability, that is, the use of techniques which, rather than aiming to achieve a perfect adjustment to the theatre, conceal economic interests.



Chapter 1.  On drama translation

conceptual level […] You have to tap into the energy behind the words in order to offer actors something to work with. (Gooch 1996: 18)

It is very important, therefore, that the language used should be “natural” and, at the same time, as Carlson affirms, “actable”, that is, “a language that will enable the actor effectively to collaborate with the playwright” (1964: 55). With these words, Carlson alludes not only to the consequences of turning one language into another, such as the length of the monologues, degree of literalness or the relationship between the dramatic work and the art of bringing a character to life, but also to a fundamental situation that is not always attained: the relationship between the translator, the interpreters and the theatrical director. These last two agents subordinate the target text to their own conception of the dramatic work, with the intention of satisfying a public that does not perceive in the same way the theatrical structure of a text conceived for another public and in another language. The relationship between the playwright and the translator or the actors, although not excessively frequent nowadays, was unthinkable for the translators of three centuries ago, given the differences of geography and time: The Young Admiral, for example, was first performed in London in 1637, ten years after the death of Lope de Vega, the creator of the original work (Don Lope de Cardona), which was to be translated by J. Shirley. Very similar is the case of the first translation of the comedy by Agustín Moreto y Cavana No puede ser el guardar una mujer, presented in London in 1668 under the title Tarugo’s Wiles; or the Coffee-House, a year after the death of the Spanish playwright. Nor do we have evidence of meetings between authors and their translators when they were coetaneous. However, collaboration between translator and actors is becoming ever more frequent nowadays. In this respect, the confessions of translator Gitlitz (1989: 51) regarding the arduous task to achieve a definitive English version of his theatrical text are highly significant: a process of joint performance that in the majority of cases should be common practice in theatre translation. Meyer (1974:  50) calls for this type of ideal translation, that is, one that “has been through the testing-fire of rehearsal and performance”. F. H. Link (1980) is of the same opinion, and argues for a group work process in which “playwright, translator, dramatic advisor, stage manager and scholar” will be involved. On other occasions, as Dixon (1989: 16) states, the procedure is different: “The edited text becomes the basis for the production of a ‘literal’ version, to which a popular writer resorts in turn [...] for the production of a ‘literary’ version or an adaptation” (the translation is mine). In all cases there has to be continuous decision-taking to give priority to theatricality over any other aspect. Some theatre translators are even of the opinion that it is more important

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

to know how to translate theatre than to have a deep knowledge of the language or languages with which they are working. As an example of this, Zuber (1984: 5) laments the fact that many translation theorists analyse the steps to be followed when translating a printed work of theatre to a different language, that is, that they devote themselves solely to what she calls “page to page translation”. She points out, therefore, a second phase or dimension of the process, which in her opinion is as important as the first: “page to stage translation”. To achieve this, she advocates an analysis to determine whether or not the text is suitable for performance, and, if so, she proposes four different ways to carry this out: take an already published edition as the working basis, create one’s own version, do away with any kind of script and work through rehearsals and conversations with the actors, or combine this last with either of the other two. Bassnett (1985: 90), for her part, divides theatre translation strategies into five main groups: 1. The theatrical text is translated as if it were simply a literary text. It is intended for publication, not production. She considers this type of dialogue text, which is not intended to be performed, as a “sub-category” within dramatic texts (1991: 104). 2. The cultural context of the original language serves as a significant framework for the translated text, endowing it with a certain local colour. 3. An attempt is made to reproduce the theatricality of the text so that this may be recited in a fluent and natural way. 4. Verse theatre is translated in an alternative form: free verse, prose… with the consequent loss of dynamism and formal value. 5. Translation is a team effort: translator, director and actors. As we have seen, points 1 and 5 signify a radical departure from the translation activity of seventeenth-century playwrights, but this is not the case with the other strategies: the type of translation typified in point 2 attained a certain popularity two decades ago in the English-speaking countries and was also used by the translators who are the object of this study, in many cases in order to bring out the comic element and endow the work with local colour, that is, a touch of “the exotic” for the audience. As for point 3, it seems evident that the translators included in this study made use of all the English theatrical conventions available to them to satisfy the expectations of their audiences. This recourse often involved the omission of parts of the work because they were too close to the culture of the original language or had a highly specific linguistic content. Finally, as regards point 4, the abandonment of metric alternatives has been the predominant note in the translations that concern us here: none of them has remained faithful to the original parameter, blank verse and prose being the vehicle of choice, perhaps be-



Chapter 1.  On drama translation

cause of the difficulty inherent in this type of translation, or perhaps due to the fact that verse was only rarely employed in the English theatre of this period. Jänis (1996:  350–351), by means of a direct study of various contemporary theatre translators, observes a three-fold perspective when it comes to tackling the original text: a. The work is not contemplated as a written text but as action, something intended to be seen. The unit of translation will not therefore be the dialogue or certain words, but rather the different scenes. b. The translation must be fluid and “easy to read”. c. To watch is not as important as to listen to the dialogue, “how it sounds”. These last two options pose great difficulties, since it is almost impossible for translators who centre their attention on the acoustic singularities of the text to record these on paper, and vice versa. The actors would thus be operating in a continuous contradiction: to try to convert a written text into spoken language in such a way that it really appears to belong to the spoken language, when probably they themselves would not use this kind of register in real life. In case (a.) it is even possible to achieve a translation of the text not by means of words but through gesture. If the visual impact acquires such relevance, why use words if an image is sufficient for the course of the action to be understood? However, the translator who employs this type of translation must notify the stage manager, or, if this is not possible, must specify it in the form of notes in the margin of the text. Yet the profusion of stage indications, a common practice from the nineteenth century onwards, contrasts with the relative scarcity of such notes in the case of our classics, since the directions are usually implicit in the dialogue; we thus observe a clear difference in the use of the didascales in the seventeenth century in the languages that concern us in this study: while in the Spanish works the stage directions are very brief and the gestures of the actors are given by the dialogue, in the English plays there are long explanatory notes which, not being included in the dialogue itself, greatly speed up the action. Van den Broeck (1986) offers two alternatives within the field of theatre translation strategies. The first of these consists in translating the original text into the target language with the sole reference of the text itself, thus giving preference to its merely linguistic aspect. The second, in contrast, tries to convert the original text in such a way that it adjusts as closely as possible to the new theatrical context in which the work is to be performed. The degree of adaptation to the literary, cultural and dramatic conventions of the target language is very high, in an attempt to satisfy the demands of those to whom it is addressed. The most immediate consequence of this type of process is that the degree of adaptation may be so deep that the original text is hardly recognisable. It is for this reason that, on occasions, we observe in

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

seventeenth-century British theatre elements that undoubtedly belong to Spanish comedy but leave us unable to conclude which was the text used as source. The research carried out by Patrice Pavis (1992:  139–142) follows the same line, and supposes an advance in the conception of the process: this begins with the original text, but ends not in the final text or its staging, but in the reaction of the audience present at the performance. Furthermore, both the start and the finish points lie in the framework of a culture within which they are immersed and which, inevitably, conditions the totality of the process.4 Pavis divides this creative work into four different phases: 1. The translator assumes the functions of playwright and of reader, and, taking the original text as a starting point, establishes options and decisions. 2. Since the work is destined for the stage, the process of adaptation now begins, that is, with or without the assistance of the theatrical director, the selection is undertaken of elements, cuts or changes necessary for the fullest possible comprehension of the work by the audience. 3. The resulting product is then put to the test on the stage, in the mise en scène. 4. The spectator thus becomes the destination point of the whole process. The process of translation therefore consists in a set of mutually independent phases that have a single objective: “It would not be an exaggeration to say that the translation is simultaneously a dramaturgical analysis (T1 and T2), a mise en scène and a message to the audience, each unaware of the others” (p. 142). The success or failure of the work depends on one unique occasion — there are no subsequent readings that may correct the first imprint. Similarly, given that the resulting work must be directed at the public of a certain culture, we may also find variations depending on the type of spectator who is going to witness the performance, their social condition and the frequency with which they go to the theatre. If a work is oriented towards a specific public, its translation may suffer transformations if the target language audience is diverse. Before their closure in 1642, London had a good number of theatres both public and private, these latter having a more exclusive public, not counting, of course, the court performances. We may assume, then, that a piece presented at court might undergo transformations if there was a subsequent change of auditorium, especially if a work first performed at court was then taken to one of the theatres 4. As we have mentioned earlier, the importance of both cultures (source and target) is such that rather than a translation of linguistic signs, what is really being transferred is the culture of peoples. The significance of culture in theatre translation is such for Pavis to affirm: “Theatre translation is never where one expects it to be: it is not inscribed as much in words as in gestures; it is not in the letter, but in the spirit of a culture, ineffable but omnipresent” (1991: 62; the translation is mine).



Chapter 1.  On drama translation

in the city. For example, during the reign of Charles I women could play parts, though without dialogue (even those of male characters) on the palace stages, something that did not happen in the playhouses (Edwards 1981: 13). Susan Bassnett, in her article “Translating for the Theatre: The Case Against Performability” (1991), manifests her partial disagreement with the affirmations of Pavis regarding the notion of “performability”, as she considers that this is not so much the role of the translator as of the director: “Whilst the principal problems facing a director and performers involve the transposing of the verbal into the physical, the principal problems facing the translator involve close engagement with the text on page and the need to find solutions for a series of problems that are primarily linguistic ones” (1991: 111). Bassnett here evidences a personal evolution with respect to her initial position set out in her Translation Studies, in which she affirmed: A theatre text, written with a view to its performance, contains distinguishable structural features that make it performable, beyond the stage directions themselves. Consequently the task of the translator must be to determine what those structures are and to translate them in to the TL, even though this may lead to major shifts on the linguistic and stylistic planes. (Bassnett 1996a: 122, the italics are mine)

The writer now emphasises the importance of the linguistic structure of the text itself, from which an infinite number of performable versions may derive. However, she shares with Pavis the cultural character of the process of translation, since, although theatre translation comprises both a linguistic dimension and a physical dimension, the form in which these are materialised varies depending on the target culture which is being addressed: “The commonality of the physical dimension of theatre texts [...] is physically encoded differently, is read differently and is reproduced differently across cultural boundaries. I have come to reject the notion of the encoded gestural subtext, perceiving it as a concept that belongs to a particular moment in time in western theatre history and which cannot be applied universally” (ibid.: 111). In the first part of this chapter we concentrated on theatre translation as a genre and on its dramatic dimension, as these have been treated in the work of a variety of authors. However, mention must be made of a second dimension in the translation of comedias into English resulting from the gap in distance and time between the date of creation and the date of translation. If the classics are to be translated today, the radical difference between the values, customs and theatrical conventions of the Spain of more than three hundred years ago and those pertaining in Great Britain today will have to be overcome. Golden Age Spanish theatre brings together characters from a variety of social classes, from princes to peasants, and

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

each of these has a specific language that distinguishes them and which the translator must know. Furthermore, the different situations require a kind of metre (redondilla, octava, quintilla) that poses great difficulties for the translator, apart from the inherent syntactic problems. All these features, which characterise the Spanish Siglo de Oro and are partially collected in the Arte nuevo de hacer comedias of Lope de Vega, form an almost insurmountable barrier, on occasions raising doubts about whether these Spanish playwrights can really be enjoyed by foreigners. Since this study will deal only with seventeenth-century Spanish works and their English translations of the same period, the diachronic dimension is not of such importance, although in some cases there is a considerable time lapse between the appearance of the original and that of its translation (An Evening’s Love was performed for the first time thirty-five years after the publication of the original Spanish text, El astrólogo fingido). What is, however, of great importance is the spatial difference between two countries with different customs and a cultural and geographic heritage which was unknown to the “other”. Let us cite as an example don Lope de Cardona, a popular personality in the Madrid of the period, but hardly known on the other side of the Pyrenees. It is not therefore surprising that Shirley, in his translation, should change the title of the work (Don Lope de Cardona) for the more generic The Young Admiral, which carries no allusion whatsoever to Hispanic culture. This ignorance in England of the cultural life of Spain is not so surprising: direct contacts between both countries were not very frequent, and the information the English had about Spain came largely from the influence of France, the economic and political power in the Europe of that time. However, it is important to know the place and date in which the work is set in order to be able to understand all the connotations of the text, including, of course, the historical situation at the time in the country to which it belongs. The disappearance of localisms or uses of language that do not prove appropriate for a London audience is thus fully justified. Despite the relative distance in time and the marked cultural differences, a detailed analysis of all the linguistic factors that intervene in the process of translation, in the theatre as in any other genre, would be an arduous task, and, in our case, of limited usefulness. The works which we shall examine reflect the mode of translation characteristic in England during the second half of the seventeenth century, and are anything but word-for-word. Literal versions are quite exceptional, and thus a study of vocabulary choice, the processes of modulation and transposition, etc., would be of little use. What really interest us are other factors, especially in the case of the theatre, since the text is totally inseparable from the context, the initial world of the translator. However, some points of language still invite reflection. A first aspect involves the choice of the diachronic variant of the language that is to be employed. Faced with a classical text, the contemporary translator must



Chapter 1.  On drama translation

choose between using present day language or else adapting the language to the linguistic usage of the period, an extremely complicated task as the translator is not himself a product of that period. Modern language may, then, be employed, but using an archaising syntax and vocabulary that confer a certain baroque air to the text. The decision to be taken is thus what type of archaisms to select, whether these are comprehensible by the audience, whether the words conserve a meaning similar to their present one or their meaning has changed over the years, etc. An excessive use of period vocabulary may alienate the modern spectator; equally a totally modern use may ruin the spirit of the original. In the linguistic field it is more difficult to translate the aspects of connotation of a language than it is those of denotation, that is, it is more difficult to translate what a language suggests than its literal meaning. A clear example is to be found in the works of the Celestinesque tradition, in which connotations deriving from various semantic fields (food, relationship, weaving, sewing, parts of the body) and from veiled obscenity posed serious difficulties for the translator. To achieve perfect comprehension the translator requires a profound knowledge of both the language and the theatrical conventions of the moment. In the Spain of Lope, Calderón and Tirso the audience knew perfectly well what elements they were going to find during the performance, as well as the function of the characters and their stereotyped traits. It seems a well-nigh impossible feat that an English translator of the period should capture the totality of these features. 1.2.2 The singularities of theatre translation Having completed a general analysis of the main dimensions of this study (that is, the singularities of translation as a genre, the use of language and the temporal and spatial distance between the works which are the object of analysis) we shall proceed to examine in more detail the most significant aspects of theatre translation. As Mounin (1963: 234) has said, translation, despite having as its object linguistic enunciates, is not an exclusively linguistic operation, and especially so in the case of a genre which makes greater demands on the norms of reception to ensure acceptability. In the following lines I shall therefore attempt a global approach to the linguistic and extralinguistic aspects that play a specific part in the process of theatre translation: the phonological level, the syntactic level and the significance of gesture, as well as other essential components of the performance (stage, wardrobe, music...) and, finally, the cultural framework within which both works are conceived (origin and goal), without ever losing sight of the figure of the translator. In all the sections I shall specifically allude to the complexity of the translation of these elements in the case of classical Spanish comedies, some of which will be the object of detailed study in subsequent chapters.

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

1.2.2.1 Phonology With respect to phonology, Mateo (1994a) distinguishes three factors that the translator should bear in mind. First of all, since the main objective of the translation is that it should be actable, the auditory effect produced must be appropriate, as the words are not intended to be read but to be heard.5 Even when no words are pronounced, the meaningfulness of silence cannot be eluded in the process of translation. The second fundamental aspect is rhythm, which must fit in with the movements of the actors and actresses and the contents they intend to transmit: “The tension and the energy that derive from character interaction on stage stem from the diverse rhythm of their interventions” (Mateo 1996:  914; the translation is mine). Besides, an inappropriate rhythm may change the sense of the action and even cause confusion in the spectator: “The rhythm of dramatic dialogue, of which most but not all plays mostly consist, is a complex construct, almost amounting to a fifth dimension. Rhythm is the energy, the heartbeat, the metabolism of language. Variations in rhythm alter emphasis, pace and through them, at times, meaning” (Vivis 1992: 6). Just as the rhythm between words must be respected, so must that between monologues, dialogues and between one scene and another; indeed, rhythm also influences the overall length of the work. Gitlitz (1989: 107), for example, echoes criticism of an adaptation of Oscar Wilde’s Salomé made by Spanish writer Terenci Moix in 1985. A piece written to last an hour extended for two and a half hours, thus differing greatly from the original work. Once again, the cultural character of each society makes itself felt, as to a great extent the rhythm and duration that the writers wish to give to their creations vary with each country and period. The duration of present day performances of Shakespeare, to take an example from Bassnett (1985: 91), can vary depending on the country: the English version would almost certainly be the shortest, and the German — without doubt — the longest, with the Spanish and Italian versions somewhere in-between. Finally, the importance of intonation as a differentiating element must not be overlooked, especially at a semantic and expressive levels. This difference is particularly notable in our case, since the intonation parameters of English are so different from those of Spanish that profound transformations have to be made in the lexis, syntax and accent to obtain the desired effect. Within this same phonological level the dramatic poetry of the Siglo de Oro presents the additional difficulties inherent in versification. One of these is rhyme. On many occasions translators have to establish an order of priority in their work, as the transfer between two languages so different from the point of view of rhythm 5. It is significant that in seventeenth-century Spain theatre attendance was referred to as oír la comedia, not ver la comedia, that is, “hear” not “see” (Oliva & Torres 2000: 196).



Chapter 1.  On drama translation 

means they either have to sacrifice part of the content for the sake of rhyme, or do away with this altogether so that the meaning of the text may reach the audiences with the clarity desired. The ideal is to achieve a final version that combines both concepts, but the task is fraught with complications. The experience of the translator Gitlitz in this respect is most revealing: It can be said without exaggeration that the poet of comedias could let himself be carried away by the logics of his plot or the emotional register of his dialogue without even worrying too much about rhyme: every eight syllables the language would provide him with as many possibilities as he wished to group verse lines effortlessly. This is not the case in English, which is so poor in rhymes. The English translator must be extremely skillful to achieve rhyme and keep the natural flow of the sentence at the same time. It is hard to resist the temptation of letting sense deviate through the course of rhyme. (Gitlitz 1989: 47, the translation is mine)

Furthermore, Spanish is mainly made up of polysyllabic words, while monosyllables abound in English. This not only gives rise to metric problems, but also means that either fewer words are used in English or more information is included than in the Spanish original. To overcome this, the translator may use circumlocution, change words etc., but with the risk of straying too far from the original, both in content and in form. These differential features must therefore be taken into account during translation. Auditive effect, rhythm and intonation are thus among the aspects that complicate the work of the theatre translator, a complexity that may be increased in the case of dramatic poetry by the presence of other phonoesthetic features such as rhyme, alliteration, assonance and the symbolism of the sounds. All these factors mean that the translator must constantly be taking decisions that will lead, in different situations, to sacrifice some or other value. 1.2.2.2 Syntax The fact that the original text is in verse form also poses serious difficulties, given the intricate syntax of Baroque discourse with its accumulation of coordinated elements, the succession of subordinations that only become intelligible at the end, the continuous use of enjambment making verse approximate to prose at times, etc. This structure reflects the conventions of the period in Spain and England alike: Baroque taste found satisfaction in the understanding of formal complexities.6 It is a much less laborious undertaking to translate poetry into prose, but the formal 6. On many occasions the greatest difficulties in translating a work arise from the acting style that predominates in each country: English inscrutability, Italian exuberance and German austerity in performing the classics are clear examples.

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

and semantic loss involved impoverishes the target text in comparison with the original. On the one hand, stanzaic complexity creates a special atmosphere in the auditorium, as spectators are transported to a world, that of verse, that distances them from their everyday life (actors and audience establish a special relationship in which the latter enters a world of fantasy where certain facts, ideas and behaviours are acceptable despite not being permitted in real life). On the other, within this microcosm there are two types of register: one that of dialogue and narration, the other that of passages with an intense lyrical content. Depending on the register, a different type of stanza would be employed with its own rhetorical resources, such as anaphora, hyperbaton or quiasm. Moreover, the creation of certain unexpected or extravagant rhymes contributed on occasions to the humorous tone of a particular scene. Variety in stanza type and the connotations deriving from it are doubtless much more complex than has been summarised here, but these observations may suffice to give an overview of the difficulties involved. In the third chapter we shall see more closely how the translator of Spanish comedias confronted the diverse complications existing in the translation of verse. 1.2.2.3 Non-verbal: gestures We have already seen that the theatre text should be audible as it is initially not directed only at a reader. But the audience enjoying the performance also sees what is going on on stage, and so a perfect synchronisation between the gestures and movements of the actors and their words, what we might term “language-body” (Pavis 1992), is essential. Pavis expresses it thus: “What we call the language-body, the union of thing-presentation and word-presentation, would in the context of theatrical enunciation be the union of spoken text and the gestures accompanying its enunciation, in other words the specific link that text establishes with gesture” (1992: 152). This language-body (or bodily expression)7 is presented as a translation mechanism that is just as valid as words, and that, by on occasions replacing them, may contribute to the economy of the text. The example that Pavis includes in his article is the translation of the sentence: “I want you to put the hat on the table” by the shorter “Put it there”, accompanied by a compensatory gesture. This kind of technique may prove more efficient when it comes to translating the classics, as it is capable of resolving problems such as those of rhyme and number of syllables in each verse. However, the mode of action and the greater or lesser use of language-body are conditioned, in the same way the rhythm and duration of the work are, by the target culture at which the translation is directed. According to Bassnett (1985:  92), the English classical tradition attempts to 7. This is how Kowzan designates one of the five categories included in every performance, and which correspond to five semiological systems (in Bassnett 1985: 88).



Chapter 1.  On drama translation 

reinforce the obscurantism of the text by means of kinesic signs, while the German tradition does exactly the opposite: the spatial context reinforces the text itself, but it is this that dominates the actor, and not the other way round. The Italian tradition, on the other hand, uses the text as just one more instrument within the performance as a whole. This physical dimension was especially important in Spanish seventeenthcentury theatre due to the wealth of comic and grotesque possibilities offered by the non-verbal world, which provided, in its contact with the spoken word, the key to the action and the understanding of the work. Gesture therefore had a triple function: it aided verbal communication, could replace discourse, and was the reference for the immediate social situation (Villalba 1995: 21). As Pavis points out (1991: 51), “it is a way to achieve some equivalence or union between the situation of gesture enunciation and linguistic emission” (the translation is mine). To analyse different translations, it is necessary to rely on the culture of gesture in the different periods and recognise the gestural behaviour that may be deduced from the texts. This is no easy task since, as we have mentioned, seventeenth-century texts lack an efficient system of stage directions that would allow us to establish clear differences. We must therefore be guided by the scanty explicit stage directions, the implicit ones, the dialogue and other components (the external appearance of actors and actresses, for example) to establish the bases for a reliable comparative analysis. 1.2.2.4 Other stage components The fact that, at a certain moment, even an actor’s costume may replace the text is but an extreme example of how in the world of drama other signs are involved. While often consigned to the background, they are no less important for the translator. Among these elements are the type of theatre, stage and set; the music, lighting and sound, including special effects, and the actors and actresses’ makeup, wardrobe and props. It is logical to suppose that if a work has been created for a specific theatre and stage, and the translation is going to be performed in different physical context (on a much smaller stage, for example), the translator may vary certain elements (such as the number of persons on stage at the same time) so that the performed work does not resent. The works of Shakespeare, for example, were written for the Elizabethan theatre spaces, where the audience was an active part of the performance and was physically very close to the actors. During the Restoration, the comedy took place very near the audience, in the external part of the stage, and this doubtless had much to do with the degree to which the genre came closer to the life and customs of the house. The Spanish corrales are different from the public theatres of the Elizabethan Age, and these in turn differ from the courtly theatre

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being performed in Italy. However, in the two countries we are concerned with here the most prevalent kind of theatre building is the “Italianate” and its specific stage resources, based principally on the development of the wings and the sense of perspective (Ruesga 1997: 41). This architectural model has been the home for western theatre and, therefore, the source of the codes that have had such an influence on our dramaturgy and its language. Nor should the function of scenery be overlooked, as without these visual indicators it is more difficult to create a local atmosphere, and consequently making it less likely that the audience contemplating the translated can find themselves transported to a different cultural environment. At the same time, the set has its own functionality: if it is very elaborate, it will facilitate the omission of parts of the text, while if it is simple it may be defined by the text, that is, the so-called verbal décor. In the same way, the type of theatre for which the work is intended, and the technical possibilities this offers for its performance, may affect the content. The sets of Spanish public theatres of the first half of the seventeenth century certainly lacked that sumptuosity with which Iñigo Jones endowed English palace performances between 1625 and 1636 (Bentley 1981: 102). The presence of a balcony, for example, is essential to the performance of the second act of An Evening’s Love, the translation of El astrólogo fingido, in which Wildblood and Bellamy serenade Theodosia and Jacintha. This balcony does not appear in the original, leading one to suppose that the translator was aware of the technical possibilities of the place where his work would be acted. These technical resources also include sound and light, the latter being fundamental to the development of certain scenes, especially in the typical nocturnal confusions of Spanish cloak and dagger comedies. Music and song are a further essential element in the staging of the translated work. In English Restoration comedy music had a particularly important role, not only at the start of the play and during the interludes, but also in the course of the action, to the point where, on occasions, the performers were required to be able to sing (Styan 1986: 35). Indeed, some translators of plays into English included songs that were not present in the original text such as that incorporated by Digby in Elvira, or the Worst not Always True, and meant to be sung by the protagonist. The external appearance of the actors and actresses also has important implications. Although references to makeup and coiffure are practically non-existent in Spanish classical theatre, this is not the case with details of their costumes, perhaps because choice of dress supposed significant differences in the characters’ personality, status and moral condition: an opulent costume means we are looking at a gentleman or a lady; the fact that a woman’s body is covered means she is an honourable woman and not a prostitute; black is elegant on a man; if a woman wears chapines she is ready to be courted and in a marriage prospect. The translator



Chapter 1.  On drama translation 

must take all these indicators into account, given their significance in the work. A character’s dress may even sometimes have a scenic interpretation: if someone is wearing “walking clothes” the action is assumed to be taking place outdoors. Accessories, too, are often highly evocative. This is the case with the fan in English Restoration comedies: it is an article with such a range of possibilities, especially in the war of the sexes, that as recently as 1976 Edith Evans was led to proclaim that “the only thing you can’t do with a fan is fan yourself ” (in Styan 1986: 108). 1.2.2.5 Factors peripheral to performance On occasions, we forget that a greater or lesser profusion of costumes and sets, the choice of a theatre or, even, the number of actors and actresses, may be determined exclusively by economic motives, which are powerful enough to have a considerable impact on a translation intended for performance. The importance of the economic factor is by no means new. In the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, translation was already seen in England as a licit means of achieving box office success; it was this that led authors to resort to French and Spanish playwrights for new plots and situations that would make an impact on the audience, and then adapt them to their taste to the point where some of these works went on to form part of English theatrical repertoire for decades. As a result, the translator became the person whose job was to provide theatres with such material, sometimes at short notice and with a consequent deterioration in quality. In 1668 Dryden tried to guarantee himself a degree of economic stability by agreeing to publish three works a year for the King’s Theatre in exchange for certain participation in the company. This commitment was to prove fruitless in view of the inability of the author to keep up such a creative rhythm. The audience too could, with their attitude, modify the theatrical text: if the performer felt that a certain gesture or response was well-received, he or she might amplify and repeat it in subsequent performances; in the same way, a clamorous silence from the spectators might provoke changes to win their approval. The ephemeral nature of theatrical performance is thus evident. Apart from the good or bad impression that the work might cause, the power of theatre critics to influence whether or not go and see a particular play must not be overlooked. On other occasions, the power to decide which works shall be published or staged lies in the hands of the censors. Censorship exercised an important influence on seventeenth-century English theatre, as dramatic works were, together with sermons given at religious services, the most important medium for the diffusion of ideas, far more than the printed word. This explains why both the absolutist monarchs, for political reasons, and the Puritans, absorbed in their anti-Catholic and anti-Papal campaign, demanded of Parliament laws that would control the publication and public performance of theatrical works. This censorship was by no

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means as strict, however, as it might appear at first sight, at least so it would seem from the data provided by Lambert (1992: 3): “Careful analysis of the official record of censorship kept by the Master of Revels has shown some thirty instances of censorship, few of them political, as against some 2,000 plays written between 1590 and 1642. For the period 1622 to 1642 we have […] some 15 plays criticised for one reason or another […] as against well over 100 licensed for performance without any objection”. Blasphemy and indecent language were, by a decision of Parliament in 1605–6, one of the aspects most closely monitored. The disappearance of ecclesiastical (though not political) control in 1641 was an important advance in this respect; for Hill it was nothing short of “the most significant event in the history of seventeenth-century English literature” (in Lambert 1992: 4). Despite all this, the concession of a licence to register the majority of works was not due, in many cases, to the benevolence of the censors, but to the self-censorship of the dramatists and their caution in exercising their craft. It must not be forgotten that the majority of authors were gentlemen and intellectuals who made up a microsociety closely connected to the members of the court; indeed, many of them were personally known to the king, whose favour, evidently, they hoped to enjoy. 1.2.2.6 Translation and culture After this description of the fundamental elements that the theatre translators must take into consideration in their work, the rendering of elements belonging to one culture into another one cannot be ignored. Although this aspect is included as yet another among the extralinguistic factors in the process of theatre translation, it can by no means be considered a subsidiary matter, and especially not in the specific case of the theatre. Indeed, the whole process is part of, and impregnated by, cultural realities, from the use of personal pronouns to choice of dress. The translator is immersed in a particular social and temporal context, and is therefore conditioned by the reality and the world view of the time in which he is living. While it is true that the cultural differences between Spain and Great Britain are not so marked as for instance, those between East and West,8 a certain distance does exist, and it is here that translation may provide a meeting point between cultures. This was what journalist and translator Farrell (1996:  52) believed. For him, “a translation […] ought to be an arena for an encounter between cultures. Where the adaptor, or director, believes such efforts are futile, or where they have simply low expectations of what an audience can cope with, their efforts are channelled towards lessening the impact of that encounter”. Obviously, something is always lost in this transfer. 8. This relative closeness is precisely one of the factors that makes two cultures “compatible”, so that a translated text can function in the target culture (Aaltonen 2000: 53).



Chapter 1.  On drama translation 

When we speak of the transcultural phenomenon in the process of translation, we are referring to culture in the broadest anthropological sense. For this particular study, we feel it relevant to recall what Peter Newmark understands by this concept, which he defines as “the way of life and its manifestations that are peculiar to a community that uses a particular language as its means of expression” (1988: 94). For Newmark, when a particular community centres its attention on a specific subject (“cultural focus”, in his own words), it creates a series of terms that do not exist in other communities, unless they share an identical reality. Thus, following Nida, he establishes various categories: a) ecology (flora, fauna), b) material culture (food and drink, clothing, types of cities and dwellings, means of transport), c) social culture (work and leisure), d) organisations, customs, activities, procedures, concepts (whether political, religious or artistic) and e) gestures and habits. It is especially interesting that Newmark devotes a section to gesture, given that non-verbal language may vary from one language to another to the point where identical gestures may signify diametrically opposite notions. In the case of the comedies of the Spanish Golden Age, as in the theatre of any period, one is working with a common patrimony, and it is supposed that the public shares a common knowledge that need not be explained. Respecting the divisions established by Newmark, this common knowledge may be political (Don Lope de Cardona), geographic (Olmedo), or refer to customs (the night of San Juan, courting through the window-bars or the world of bullfighting), dress (capes and cloaks), gastronomy (wine), architecture (dwellings, patios) or animals (bulls, horses). Katan (in Hurtado 2001: 609–610) also suggests a classification of cultural categories, although with a more hierarchical organisation: the background, behaviour (norms of the community), strategies of communication (rituals, how messages are transmitted), the values of a society, its beliefs (behaviour modifiers) and, finally, the identity, or superior level, of the hierarchy. If we adapt this classification to the theatre, we must mention, as part of the background, the physical and political framework within which the works exist, as well as the staging, duration of the performance, costumes...; reference must also be made to the kind of behaviour expected of the characters (sincerity in the gentlemen, cowardice in the clowns) and the audience of the period; the way in which the characters communicate (verbally and through gesture, as well as the typical rituals of the act of communication); honour and justice as the fundamental values of the Siglo de Oro, belief in a God who is constantly invoked, etc. This diversity of aims highlights the intrinsic difficulty involved in analysing the different elements that compose a culture while at the same time identifying the precise strategies required to solve a specific translation problem. Newmark, for example, proposes twelve procedures that may be applied when faced with a difficult cultural reference (1988: 81–93): Transference, cultural equivalent, neutralisation,

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

literal translation, label, naturalisation, componential analysis, deletion, couplet, accepted standard translation, paraphrase (gloss, notes, etc.) and classifier. In the case of the translation of comedies, the choice of one procedure or another becomes still more difficult, not only because the use of notes is ruled out, but also because of the importance assumed by non-verbal communication, and the requirement that the translated text should not disrupt the rhythm and harmony of the original. As an example, we may consider the case of transference, taking as the starting point a term intimately related with the culture of the original text. If the concept is known, the audience may recognise it without difficulty; this is a swift solution that confers a certain air of local colour. But if the audience is not familiar with the term, comprehension, and with it, communication, will fail. This is the case with the three English translations that I know of Lope de Vega’s El caballero de Olmedo, respectively titled The Knight from Olmedo (l961), The Knight of Olmedo (1972) and The Gentleman from Olmedo (1991).9 The locality of Olmedo, which is important for the understanding of the course of the action, is not familiar to an English audience, and so the translator might have chosen a different title to attract the attention of the potential spectator. The difference in this case is that the first two works mentioned seem to have been intended to be read rather than to be performed, which means that the footnotes and introductory explanations can overcome any difficulties in comprehension. In the case of the most recent translation, the translator himself, David Johnston, recognises the inevitable loss involved in transferring this extratextual component into the English translation and, given that his version was intended to be performed, tries to compensate for it by what he terms an “act of clarification” (1996: 59): since an audience living in the time of Lope would know the song that inspired the playwright to narrate the murder that took place between Medina and Olmedo, Johnston opts to inform his audience of this geographical reference from the very start of the performance by translating this popular song into English and introducing it as a kind of echo. Another solution proposed by Newmark, the neutralisation, consists in placing greater importance to the message to the detriment of the cultural elements, sacrificing, if there is no alternative, the impact that it would cause in the original text. This diminishes the problem of cultural comprehension, but at the same time reduces the freshness and liveliness of the translation. It is for this reason that, in the case of place names, some translators of Spanish comedies have decided to omit them altogether or replace them with others that might prove more familiar 9. The first of them, a translation by Jill Booty, appears in Five Plays, London: MacGibbon and Kee and Nueva York: Hill and Wang. The second one was translated by Willard F. King, Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press. The most recent, by David Johnston, was first performed on 5 September 1991 at the Gate Theatre in London (published in Absolute Classics, Bath: 1992).



Chapter 1.  On drama translation 

to an English audience. On other occasions, as in the case of the translation of Spanish anthroponyms, a process of naturalisation has been followed, adapting them or replacing them by others, either Italian or English, with the consequent loss of their power of evocation in Spanish, but conserving, up to a point, the impact that would be lost by their neutralisation. Gitlitz (1989: 50) also tackles possible alternatives for the transposition of cultural elements. Faced with a key cultural element in a work intended to be performed, one solution is the addition of a sentence in the text that will explain the meaning of the allusion. Once again, the danger of resorting to this kind of practice is that, if too many evasions and explanations are employed, the natural flow of the scene may be compromised. It is thus more advisable to allow the actors to communicate the meaning of the allusion by using the scenic context or simply with a gesture. Pavis (1991) mentions three different methods or attitudes with which to undertake the translation of culture in theatre. The first consists in maintaining the source culture, and refusing to translate its terminology; at the opposite extreme there is total adaptation to the target culture. Pavis deems both solutions inappropriate: the first because it results in a text addressed solely to experts, the second because it betokens an excessively condescending attitude towards the text and its cultural origins. He therefore proposes a middle way, “a translation which could be a ‘conductor’ between the two cultures and which would cope with proximity as well as distance” (1991: 56, the translation is mine). This “adapter for the reception” guarantees communication and connects both cultures, always from the perspective of the target audience. In our particular case, the translators have opted for an almost complete translation, while respecting, as we shall see later, some of the characteristic features of Spanish comedias. They thus situate themselves halfway between what Pavis terms “total adaptation” and the so-called “middle way”. A similar division to that of Pavis is the one proposed by Hervey & Higgins (in Hurtado 2001:  613), who suggest a choice of five different alternatives that run from maintaining the features of the culture of departure to total adaptation to the destination culture, that is, an exotic translation with a minimum of adaptations that clearly reflects the culture of origin to the point of cultural transfer. Within this range of possibilities there are also intermediate options, such as the use of explanations that will facilitate the work of translation. Aaltonen, too, recognises the process of what she calls “intercultural theatre”, that is, examples of “exchanges and encounters between cultures, of how theatres seize texts from other cultures, share them, move into them and make them theirs” (Aaltonen 2000: 2). Limiting herself exclusively to dramatic literature, she exemplifies this by noting a variety of reactions to a specific translation for the rendering to be acceptable in the target language. The attitude when faced with the

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

translated text may be reverential, respecting the cultural traits of the original, and so enriching the literature of the receiving country; or the text may be altered to integrate it more completely with the destination system, or at least make it acceptable. In order to achieve this acceptability, translators use two main strategies that, although they have different names, fulfil the same function: acculturation and naturalisation (ibid.: 55), which allow any element (linguistic, literary or cultural) of the original text to be replaced by another that meets the expectations of the target culture. The first of these consists in reducing the excessively cultural tone of certain aspects to make them familiar to the spectator, while the second conveys the reduction or elimination of everything that sounds characteristic of a particular foreign culture. The writers mentioned above analyse various forms in which a foreign theatrical text may be transferred to a particular culture. However, not all translators make use of all the strategies proposed, nor do there exist unanimously accepted solutions. The techniques employed may be very varied, and they depend on a series of factors such as the aim of the translation, the characteristics of those to whom the work is addressed, the function and nature of the cultural element in the source text and, above all, the type of relationship existing between the two cultures (their closeness or distance, the dominance of one over the other). All these criteria have to be taken into consideration in trying to explain the reason for which Spanish comedies were introduced into the world of seventeenth century London theatre with certain specific characteristics, and not with others that might prove equally valid in other contexts. 1.2.2.7 The figure of the translator In contrast to the work of translators of other kinds of texts, the task of the translator of theatre is subject to changes needed to meet the requirements of stage managers, directors or actors. The translation of a text may also be affected, to a greater or lesser degree, by the characteristics of the person carrying it out, and the time and effort dedicated to the task. The degree of preparation of the translator, the person or persons for whom he or she works, the fact that he or she may be translator and director, or (if this latter function is exercised by a different person), pressure from the director, as well as the economic conditions, the financing from the authorities and the degree of freedom enjoyed to carry out this work (the “preestablished” limits, such as censorship in the seventeenth century), all give us significant information regarding the strategies employed in the process. Thus, the contemporary translator Paul Whitworth, in a version of La venganza de Tamar, wanted to present the death of Amon “with lots of blood and food all around the place” (the translation is mine), but had to forgo this due to budget limitations (Smith 1995: 308); this simple example goes to show to what extent a translation



Chapter 1.  On drama translation 

may be affected by factors beyond any aspect of linguistics or textual interpretation. Smith himself mentions some of the strategies that translator/directors employ now to bring the classics closer to English audiences: imposition of their own ideology, exploitation of the theatricality of the text, etc. All these approaches are acceptable, which goes to show that Spanish classical theatre “proves flexible enough not only to survive, but also to shine when rendered into English” (1995: 309, the translation is mine). Leaving to one side those conditioning factors that might be termed “imposed”, the freedom that the translators enjoy in carrying out their profession can be enormous. It is for this very reason that they may on occasions be led to commit what Santoyo (1989:  75) calls “crimes”, such as linguistically poor versions, the omission of responses in the original or the displacement of dialogues to other scenes. Santoyo appeals to their sense of responsibility, recognising that translators have “free hands. Theoretically, they can do whatever they want to comedy, tragedy or melodrama, even turn them into a farce” (1989: 74, the translation is mine). As we have already mentioned, Wellwarth echoes one of the basic concepts of translation theory in the nineties: that which alludes to the “invisibility” of the translator, when his work is conceived, in Gogol’s terms, as a “transparent pane of glass” (Espasa 2000: 54). Venuti expresses this in Anglo-Saxon culture when he affirms in The Translator’s Invisibility: A History of Translation: A translated text, whether prose or poetry, fiction or non-fiction, is judged acceptable by most publishers, reviewers and readers when it reads fluently, when the absence of any linguistic or stylistic peculiarities makes it seem transparent, giving the appearance that it reflects the foreign writer’s personality or intention or the essential meaning of the foreign text — the appearance, in other words, that the translation is not in fact a translation, but the “original”. (Venuti 1995: 1)

These words would seem to run counter to the importance the translators are sometimes given nowadays (in Great Britain and Spain alike), particularly in the case of the theatre, where their names appear with the same prominence as the authors, especially if this may attract more patrons.10 However, leaving economic factors to one side, it would seem impossible for the translator to be a mere filter, allowing the information to pass through without being contaminated, or, in some cases, enriched; indeed, on occasions the 10. An example is the Catalan version of Hamlet undertaken by Terenci Moix: La tràgica història de Hamlet, Príncep de Dinamarca, directed by Pere Planella and starring Enric Majó. After opening in Barcelona (April 1979) it was performed with great success in other parts of Catalonia, as well as in Madrid. A television version was subsequently made. In both cases the name of the translator appeared.

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

translators openly express their desire to intervene and be heard, thus elevating their function to that of author, or even of authority (Stephanides 2001: 48). Arguments about ideal translators and the imprint they should leave are as old as the History of Translation itself. Michael McGaha (1989: 79–86) considers the following to be the qualities to be desired of the translator of comedies: first, an excellent command of both languages; second, practical experience of the theatre (to ensure that the resulting works are performable); he must also be a poet because comedy is dramatic poetry, and at the same time an excellent literary critic, as each translation is, of necessity, an interpretation. Independently of whether the present-day translator embodies each of these requirements, which we can extrapolate to our particular case of comedies in English, it is obvious that, given the difficulty of this type of translation, the translator of drama must be very familiar with the world of the stage or, at least, be “a man of letters, not a daring, unconscious improviser” (Ayala 1965: 40; the translation is mine). Dryden considered that the first requirement to be a translator of poetry was, precisely, to be a poet. The qualities and obligations of the good seventeenth-century translator will be dealt with in the section on the theory of translation in the England of the period. 1.2.2.8 Translation or adaptation? As spectators, many of us are becoming more and more accustomed to the term “adaptation”, which appears over recent years to have replaced in theatre programmes the words “translation” or even “version”. This terminology is used, in most cases, with an absolute lack of rigour, which means that it is not at all easy to make a clear distinction between the three concepts. Things become even more complicated when trying to determine the real scope of these words, and are faced, in the two languages with which we are concerned, with recreación, reescritura, recomposición, transliteración, refundición, “creative rewrite”, “creative translation”, “remake”, “refraction”, “free adaptation” and even “manipulation” or “plagiarism”, not to mention the similarly pejorative collage or traición.11 As we have seen in the previous section, the translation of theatre supposes a series of requirements (staging, tradition, public taste, etc.) that make it different from the translation of other types of literary genres. As a result of these demands, the translators may lay themselves open to the charge of being “unfaithful” to the original. They therefore prefer, on occasions, to employ the terms “version” or 11. Some of these terms are also employed to refer to the process of adapting a theatrical text to produce a different version in the original language itself. Thus, Ruano de la Haza specifies various self-rewriting techniques (refounding, reworking, reconstruction, adaptation, reutilisation), while Profeti speaks of intertextuality, paratextuality, collage and interdiscursivity in the Siglo de Oro literary texts (in Urzáiz 2002b: 378). Urzáiz (2001) also distinguishes between “reworking” and “self-plagiary”, or textual copying.



Chapter 1.  On drama translation 

“adaptation”, thus forestalling the attacks of the most orthodox. At other times, the choice of nomenclature is conditioned by the box office, when the “adaptor” is someone well known in the literary circles, in show business or in the media. There are cases, however, where texts are undeniably mutilated, with changes in style and form and yet appear described as “translations”. Furthermore, in the particular case of the English language, the concept of “translation” poses problems both on account of its semantic breadth and because of its diverse meanings throughout history. Thus in the seventeenth century the word was also used to refer to debates on poetic translation or to texts with a pedagogical purpose (Bassnett 1996b: 17). At the present time, as Bassnett (1998: 94–95) has keenly observed, the term “translation” alludes on certain occasions to the transference of an original text to the destination culture, while on others it implies the transposition of a written text to the stage, that is, mise en scène; what is more, a wide variety of procedures may be grouped under this term, as detailed by Gostand (1980). These include, among others, the change from one language to another, from one culture to another, from one dramatic style o genre to another, from one kind of audience to another, etc. As everyone now accepts, translation is not just a mechanism for linguistic transcodifcation, but a collection of practices, to all of which the label “translation” may be applied (Ribas 1995: 27), not only what may be termed “literary translation”. In order to delimit, therefore, the dimensions of the term “translation” in the context of drama, we shall proceed to examine what exactly the process — referred to by some as “adaptation” — consists in, given the particular characteristics of the translations studied. Enrique Llovet understands by adaptación (or versión, used with the same meaning) a rewriting of the original that undertakes “some transformations in form and content of a specific play normally with an aim to make it intelligible — if coming from a different genre — , acceptable — if the integral performance is hindered by some sort of pressure — , or simply improved and suited to the concepts and norms of a specific time and audience” (1988: 3; the translation is mine). Llovet defends the necessity of this kind of operation due to factors such as censorship, economic difficulties, casting problems, as well as linguistic hurdles (both general and those specific to translation) and sociological obstacles, that is, those that relate the text to a period and a specific theatrical population. What is involved is therefore something between a literary activity and a scenic one, not only from one language to another, but also within the scope of a single language (especially in the case of the classics), which is defensible always supposing that the method chosen is an appropriate one. This notion of adaptation considered as appropriate rewriting of the drama meant to achieve in the new audience the objectives intended in the original coincides somehow with Lefevere’s notion of refraction, which he describes thus:

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

It denotes the rewriting of texts [...] in order to make them acceptable for a new audience. In the process virtually every feature of the original may be changed, or else very little may be changed. Changes will usually fall under three categories: a change of the language in which the original is written, with its concomitant socio-cultural context, a change of the ideology of the original (i.e., its ‘world view’ in the widest, not just the political sense of the world) and a change of the poetics of the original (i.e., the presuppositions as to what it is, or is not, literature) that can be seen to have guided the author of the original, whether he/she follows them or rebels against them. (in Zuber 1984: 192)

However, the term refraction is a much broader one than that expressed by Llovet, since it is intended to cover both the translation and the production of theatrical works. Santoyo (1989: 100), for his part, differentiates the notion of versión from that of adaptación, as he considers that the first is intended to modernise the play but with a view to the stage, or performance-oriented. The concept Santoyo has of the term adaptación is more general, as it affirms that everything can be included under this label, even when this is done with a single objective: “to naturalize theatre in a new target culture” (104). Santoyo also introduces a new term, adaptación libre, which he considers synonymous with reescritura, or, following modern cinematographic terminology, a “remake”: the adaptor detaches himself from text, form and cultural parameters and proceeds to modify the source text in such a way that in many respects the resulting product hardly bears any resemblance to that it derives from (1989: 195). Manuel Ángel Conejero also opts for the term reescritura or “rewriting” (although in a more positive sense than that given it by Santoyo) when “we are referring to the translation not of words, but of styles and the world of sounds, and this is how theatre can truly be translated, written into another language” (1991: 57). The problem now lies in defining the narrow frontier between mere adaptation and so-called free adaptation. Llovet, too, when he refers to the three types into which he divides adaptations, includes “free” as well as “cleansing” and “modern”. “Free” comprises those translations which use “the original text as an excuse, so directors and adaptors can say what they wish” (1988: 9; the translation is mine). But on many occasions the translators go even further and carry out remakes that lack any justification; they add, disrupt and modify without any kind of rigour, even making use of the work of a foreign author and presenting it as their own: in such cases, we may well be speaking of “plagiary”. Gitlitz expresses his total rejection of plagiary, since “it does not respond to any method or process of intertextual, semiological or o interlinguistic transference”



Chapter 1.  On drama translation

(1989: 108; the translation is mine). Gitlitz further distinguishes between plagiary as such and what he calls recomposición, which is nothing but “a multiple plagiary” carried out by someone who resorts to other people’s versions in order to build up their own one (ibid.: 109). It is necessary to determine, then, whether a text translated in the general sense of the word corresponds to the concept of adaptation or that of free adaptation. Merino (1994a: 25–26) conceives adaptation as a process of linguistic and cultural approximation — not limited to dramatic literature — to a particular country or period, although she does not consider it a kind of translation, but rather a part of the process. She therefore reserves the term versión, as does Santoyo, for the written text aimed at a specific medium, principally the stage. Aaltonen (2000:  64), however, understands adaptation as the theatre translation that makes partial use of the original text, while she uses the term “imitation” for those pieces inspired by themes or ideas in foreign works: An adaptation may thus reactualise the foreign source by translating only parts of it, while other parts vanish or are changed. It may reactualise the foreign source text spatially and/or temporally, but in all these cases the adaptation still claims to represent the source text in the target system. Finally, and as subcategory of adaptation, an imitation borrows an idea or theme from the foreign source text and writes a new play around it. (Aaltonen 2000: 64)

Similarly, the figure of the translator acquires a multitude of descriptions in the dramatic context: “free translator”, “adaptor”, “interpreter”, etc. Aaltonen (1995: 90) employs the terms “mediator” or “creator” to refer to the theatre translator. She does, however, establish a difference between them: those translators whose relationship with the work is based only on the text itself, and whose authority does not extend beyond it, would better fit into the category of “mediators”. Those whose authority extends to the stage, whether because they are scenographers, stage directors, or because they work in close cooperation with them, would more closely approach the concept of “creator”, as they may make adjustments at will, and deduce various interpretations in accordance with the needs of the moment. Jänis contributes the expressions “interpreter”, “deputy” and “surrogate” in her study on present day translators (1996: 352). However, these terms do not suppose a classification of types of translators, but rather allude to a reality prevailing now in theatre translation in Great Britain (Bassnett 1991, Mateo 2000): if in some cases the translator prepares the text directly for its mise en scène, in others this process of adaptation is carried out after a prior “literal” translation of the original, and in still others what Aaltonen calls “surrogate translators” (2000: 32) are resorted to — playwrights (the so-called “literals”) who do not necessarily know the

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

original language and prepare a target text on the basis of a literal translation carried out by an anonymous translator, whom they clearly consider inferior.12 It is obvious that, in the case of the comedies that concern us, we will not encounter “faithful” translations, nor should this be expected given the problems of lexis, syntax and historical references that are the consequence of spatial variations, and bearing in mind the basic theoretical principles with which English translators of the seventeenth century worked. Moreover, the concept of fidelity in theatre translation is a very complex one, since it will first have to be established whether the translator is “faithful” to the written text, its mise en scène, the spirit of the original, etc.13 Llovet, speaking of German translations into Spanish, affirms that “to turn a text, born in the German language for German audiences, into a text for Spanish people cannot be understood as translation. It should rather be an adaptation […] which attempts to achieve a similar effect to that produced in the original” (1988: 12; the translation is mine). This distinction between adaptar and traducir contrasts with the cultural and functional conception of translation which is held now as, independently of the term chosen to designate those translations that apply additions, omissions and changes to the original work, the resulting piece will still be a translation, since what is involved is a target text resulting from an original one. To summarise: the only difference resides in the focus or strategy employed in each case. This controversy is by no means new. As far back as 1680 John Dryden, in the prologue to Ovid’s Epistles, Translated by Several Hands, defined three types of strategy that the translator might follow when facing a text in a foreign language. Although his reflections only concerned poetry, they are of interest here given the absence of a specific poetics of seventeenth-century English theatre translation. The first of these mechanisms, or “metaphrase”, “is the process of converting an author word by word, line by line, from one tongue to another” (in Steiner, G. 1981: 254). This more or less coincides with Santoyo’s notion of transliteración. At the opposite extreme lies the process of “imitation”, “where the translator (if now he has not lost that name) assumes the liberty not only to vary from the words and sense, but to forsake them both as he sees occasion” (1981:  254). This, then, is closer to the idea of adaptación libre, as Dryden would affirm that the imitator “is 12. A clear example is the translation of El alcalde de Zalamea by Adrian Mitchell, staged by the National Theatre in London in 1981–1982 under the title of The Mayor of Zalamea; or the Best Garrotting Ever Done. Mitchell himself has acknowledged that when he accepted the invitation to prepare the English version he knew almost no Spanish, and so based his work on a previous translation by someone with a mastery of the language (Smith 1993: 129–130). 13. Mateo (2000: 8) considers that the dichotomy “literal” / “free” seems to have been definitively left behind in Translation Studies, or at least in the field of drama translation, given the complex nature of this discipline.



Chapter 1.  On drama translation 

no better, and often worse, than the composer who appropriates his theme from another and produces his own variations” (1981: 254). According to Dryden, however, the true path is not to be found in either of these strategies, but in what he terms “paraphrase”, or “translation with latitude, where the author is kept in view by the translator, so as never to be lost, but his words are not so strictly followed as his sense, and that too is admitted to be amplified but not altered” (1981: 255–6). This intermediate path, close to the adaptación expressed by Llovet, Lefevere or Gitlitz, is that which he attempts to apply to his own translation activity, because “the spirit of an author may be transfused, and yet not lost” (1981: 256). Confronted by this terminological chaos, it is difficult to decide to which conception the translations that are the object of this study correspond. The same can be said about how the translators of the period considered themselves: servants (or mediators) of the original work or, on the contrary, creators. It is equally difficult to classify these works under the headings “translation”, “version” o “adaptation”, in view of the absence of clear boundaries between them and the diachronic differences in translation practice. In any case, a clear differentiation is not particularly useful for our purpose: the pieces chosen for this study are target texts deriving from a source text, and they function as translations in a specific time and sociohistorical context. In the following pages I shall refer, therefore, to the transfer of a theatrical work in one language (in this case Spanish) to another (English) in the following terms: I use the generic term “translation” to refer to any type of interlinguistic and extralinguistic transfer of a work, independently of whether it is addressed to the stage or the reader. By “adaptation” I understand that translation for the stage that has undergone a profound revision with the aim of achieving a perfect adaptation to the destination culture (Bassnett 1991: 102) and/or has been the object of great structural changes (Aaltonen 2000: 64). The aim of this process, unaffected by strictly linguistic considerations, is to make the work fit for another culture, time or audience, that is, “transposing or transferring the dramatic text on to the stage. This dramatic transposition is a specialized form of translation, unique to drama and different from translating poetry or narrative prose” (Zuber 1980: 8). Bearing in mind that our works were designed to be staged, and that they also suffered changes and transformations with the sole objective of adjusting them to the conventions of the moment, we can speak of these as adaptations while still, obviously, considering them translations. Finally, we reserve the concept “version” to refer to what Pavis termed versión escénica (1998: 505): the transfer from one medium to another (from reading to the stage, for example) or from one genre to another (the creation of a work of theatre from material taken from a novel, a practice that was fairly widespread among certain English seventeenth-century playwrights who turned to Spanish prose publications for their own creations).

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However thorough this breakdown of concepts may be, it is still a question of terminology and marked by what each individual understands by one term or another. Indeed, the majority of the authors who have analysed the English works studied here refer to them indiscriminately as translations, versions or adaptations, when they do not catalogue them as works “based on” or “influenced by” Spanish works. They never specify what is meant by these concepts, thus giving the impression that there is unanimity in their interpretation. A highly restrictive definition of “translation” might mean that texts that functioned as such in the English playhouses of their time might not now be considered translations, irrespective of their greater or lesser faithfulness to the original structure, contents or dialogues. The transformations presented by the translations that are the object of our study with respect to the text are closer to the singularities of theatre translation (by virtue of the double function of the dramatic text as a literary text and as a script for the stage) and to the theatrical tradition and culture that are the destination of the target text.

chapter 2

The translation of the Spanish classics in Restoration England 2.1 Drama translation theory in seventeenth-century England Foreign influence on the development of English literature became evident for the first time during the Renaissance, a period marked by the two-fold influence of the classics and contemporary neighbouring literatures. English Humanism favoured the penetration of new cultural forms with a fundamentally didactic function, that of extending and propagating learning and knowledge. This led to an extraordinary flourishing of translation of all kinds, but especially of works with a moral or religious content. There was a positive effect, too, on the theatre, due both to the diffusion of classical authors (Plautus, Terence) and the influence of French, Spanish and German theatre (Ruiz 1995: 354). It would not be until the second half of the sixteenth century, coinciding approximately with the reign of Elizabeth I (1558–1603), that a significant number of translations into English of texts of a non-religious nature began to appear. England continued writing and translating in Latin, but by now twenty per cent of the total number of publications were translations into English (Delisle & Woodsworth 1995: 201). Moreover, because the fundamental aim of the works translated during this period was to educate, the translators “filtered” the original texts in accordance with established morality. The seventeenth century was a time of great political and ideological change in England; this was reflected in literature and, of course, in translation. The conflict over literality versus non-literality with respect to the original text has always been one of the great debates in the field of translation, and the seventeenth century was no exception. In most cases, the submission of the translator to what the text meant to say, rather than to strict literalness, was the dominating tendency. In the same way that in Spain Gregorio Murillo, Cervantes, Pedro Manero, Francisco de la Torre and many others reflected on the duality inherent in the process of translation, in seventeenth century England various theoreticians set forth their points of view on the same subject. Most notable among these, at the end of the century, was John Dryden, responsible for the first classification of translation methods in Great

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Britain. His theory proved essential for Alexander Pope (1688–1714) and established the basis for subsequent developments. In view of the absence of publications dealing specifically with the art of translation, the only sources of information as to the attitude of translators to their work during this period are the prologues of translated works and the dedications to their patrons. The “professionals” of translation were principally members of the nobility and men of letters who emphasised the theoretical aspect, and whose ultimate concern was not the transfer of works from other cultures to their language (Rabadán 1987: 253), but rather responded to a variety of motivations, from philological interest (Jonson) and a passion for poetry (Dryden) to the purely pedagogical and religious (both Catholic and Protestant) or, in the case of the theatre, in answer to the need for new subjects to entertain the Court or the ever more demanding London audience. Thus, John Keynes translated in 1627 the Roman Martyrologe for the “Catholikes of the Church of England”, since, in his opinion, “it hath byn thought convenient that our English Nation also should be no longer deprived of what others have already injoyed, to their great profit” (in Bennett 1989: 68); Sandys, for his part, translated the Metamorphosis in 1632 because he considered that “meere English should not be deprived of the treasures of other tongues” (ibid.). This does not mean, however, that the translator was necessarily qualified to carry out his task effectively. Bennett (1989: 76) points out that translation was not an activity reserved for few, but rather something that many turned their hand to whenever they had the opportunity. The fact that literary copyright did not give rise to legal action doubtless encouraged such boldness, so much so that John Denham felt compelled to write, in 1648: “Such is our pride, our folly, or our fate, that few but such as cannot write, translate” (in Santoyo 1984). Despite the apparent flippancy with which many approached the original text, some theoreticians put on record the difficulty involved in the activity of translation, which they described as a “painful office” or “disease”. Some of them indeed became aware that the task on which they had embarked was much more complex than they had first imagined, and because of this generally asked that their possible errors be excused. For example, John Crowne, who also translated comedies, in the epistle preceding his version of Racine’s Andromeche (1674) calls on the reader to excuse his translation, arguing that it was the work of a “Young Gentleman” (in Bassnett 1996: 125). In this case, the author also lamented the failure of the work; in others, translators anticipated their possible errors to placate future criticism. The interest of English translators was directed principally towards the GraecoLatin classics: the century opened with the Homer of Chapman (followed by The Iliad, 1611, and The Odyssey, 1614–15), and closed with the Aeneid of Dryden (1697). Biblical translation also occupied a place of privilege, while at the same time, and in evident contrast to the preceding century, the importation of literary



Chapter 2.  The translation of the Spanish classics in Restoration England 

material from the Romance languages — particularly French (French interest in the classics in this period was remarkable, and drama based on Aristotelian principles flourished) and, to a lesser degree, Italian and Spanish — began to increase: not for nothing was England the first country in which a version of the Quixote appeared. An analysis of translation theorists throughout these hundred years allows, in broad terms, two different periods to be distinguished: in the first years of the century strictly literal translation was the normal practice both in religious and secular texts. One of the best known practitioners of this rigorous tendency was Ben Jonson (1573?-1637), although as time progressed he would evolve towards a greater freedom in treatment of the text, as was the case with Philemon Holland (1552–1637) who, in his conception of the translator as intermediary, wished to fulfil a didactic function while enriching the English language. John Digby, Earl of Bristol, also moved away from “word for word” and tried to find a language that “fitted the property of speech in our owne language” (A Defence of the Catholicke Faith, 1610, in Bennett 1989: 73). This gradual change in the activity of translation might also be due to the influence of France, where the classics were already being translated in accordance with French taste (leading in the eighteenth century to what became known as les belles infidèles). One of the most striking examples was Perrot d’Ablancourt, who in the Prologues to his many translations sets out clearly his philosophy in this respect. Thus, in his version of the works of Luciano de Samósata, he affirms: “I do not always limit myself to the words or even to the thoughts of this author but, mindful solely of his purpose, I accommodate it to the French air and manner”, to the point where he avows in his version of the works of Tacitus that it is unjust to compare a translation with its original (in Ward & Waller [eds.] 1920: 263). We later come across a second group of translators in England, more closely involved with the world of poetry, who radically reject literal translation and invoke the aesthetic of the translated text. Among these authors, Denham, Cowley and, of course, Dryden deserve mention, although the latter would evolve towards more different attitudes by the end of the century. Denham (1615–1699) forgets neither the form nor the spirit of the original, but he expresses a frontal opposition to literal translation. It was he who introduced the couplet into poetry translation, and he was imitated by translators such as Abraham Cowley (1618–1677) who, in his evolution, went so far as to say that he had “taken, left out and added what I please” (in Steiner 1981: 254). His libertine style was described by Dryden as a clear example of imitation. But it was without doubt Dryden himself, author of an enormous body of work of which almost two thirds is translation, who was the central figure in the English literature of this century. His ideas on the practice of translation are collected principally in two prologues: that written for the Epistles of Ovid (1680) and the Prologue

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

to the Sylvae. It was in the first of these that Dryden formulated three basic types of translation, metaphrase, paraphrase and imitation, showing his preference for the second of these, or sense for sense view, for his translations of Virgil, Horace, Ovid and Chaucer, as it was the one he considered most effective. In this way he wanted to strike a balance between excessive faithfulness to the original, on occasions inappropriate, and absolute licence. However, this tripartite division was to be no more than a starting point, giving way in the last two decades of the century to other forms of experiment that were closer to his own concept of imitation,1 and described by some as “free versions”. Other translators, such as John Oldham (1653– 1683) and the Count of Roscommon (1630–1685), followed Dryden, who, making use of omissions, additions and changes, affirms in his Dedication of the Aeneis (1697): “I have endeavoured to make Virgil speak such English as he would himself have spoken, if he had been born in England, and in this present age” (in Bassnett 1996:  60). Dryden concludes that translation is more difficult than he had first thought, and therefore grants the translator more freedom in his techniques. He himself would apply these methods in the theatre, or at least so it seems in his translation of El astrólogo fingido (An Evening’s Love), where he appears to be more interested in pleasing his audience than in keeping to the original model. Similarly, Dryden showed special interest in defining the qualities of a good poetry translator, which we can equally extrapolate to the translator of theatre. The translator must: 1.  Be a poet. 2.  Be master of both the language of the original and his own. 3.  Understand the characteristics that individuate his author. 4.  Conform his genius to that of the original. 5. Keep the sense ‘sacred and inviolable’ and be literal where gracefulness can be maintained. 6. Make his author appear as ‘charming’ as possible without violating his real character. 7.  Be attentive to the verse qualities of both original and the English poem. 8.  Make the author speak the contemporary English he would have spoken. 9.  (Do) not improve the original. 10.  (Do) not follow it so closely that the spirit is lost. (In Steiner, T. R. 1975: 28) 1. Dryden’s proposal to capture the “spirit” of the original has been adopted by some contemporary translators for their adaptations of the classics, such as Bartlett or Mitchell. This latter, already referred to, was responsible for a modern version of Fuente Ovejuna (Sheep Spring) in which he went as far as to introduce helicopters and tanks, which did not meet with public approval. In justification of his decision he argued that the “spirit” of the original (the political subject) had not been altered (in Johnston [ed.] 1996: 242).



Chapter 2.  The translation of the Spanish classics in Restoration England 

But not even Dryden follows, stricto sensu, these precepts which he had set out at the beginning of his career. In successive years, the poet evolved, as we have already said, towards what he paradoxically terms imitatio. Rather than imitate, what this strategy does is free the function of the translator to the point where he acquires his own voice within the work he is reproducing. The subjectivity of the author and the weight of his cultural circumstances therefore impose themselves. Dryden justifies as follows certain reductions or suppressions in his translations: Where I have taken away some of their expressions, and cut them shorter, it may possibly be on this consideration, that what was beautiful in the Greek or Latin, would not appear so shining in the English [...] For, after all, a translator is to make his author appear as charming as possibly he can, provided he maintains his character and makes him not unlike himself [...] Suppose two authors are equally sweet, yet there is a great distinction to be made in sweetness, as in that of sugar and that of honey. (Preface to Sylvae, 1685, in Lafarga [ed.] 1996: 192–194)

Dryden thus inclines towards a “domestication”, in Venuti’s words, in which “the difference between the foreign text and English culture ‘disappears’ […] because the translator removes it” (Venuti 1995:  130). Dryden, again, evolves towards a process of “naturalization” in each of the pages he translates, thus leaving the translator’s mark and conferring on him a status similar to that of the author. In this way, he considerably reduces the “foreignness” of the work, and at the same time avoids the problems of incoherence that characterise such adaptations. From a historical perspective we observe, therefore, a unidirectional tendency at the beginning of the century, marked by a great respect for the original text, which soon evolves towards another, more dynamic, in which the supremacy of the target text takes first place. The importance of these considerations, still the subject of debate today, together with the degree of innovation represented by the appearance of the first classification of translation methods in Great Britain, have led to the years between 1600 and 1700 becoming known as “the Golden Age of English translation” (Amos in Hurtado 2001: 110). 2.2 The reception of Golden Age Spanish comedies Before embarking on a comparative analysis of Spanish comedies and their translation in the English Restoration, it is necessary first to look at the state of the theatre in England in the seventeenth century. The situation during the reigns of James I (1603–1625) and Charles I (1625–1649), and the particular circumstances prevailing in the Cromwellian dictatorship (1642–1660), would doubtless influence

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

theatrical and translation activity once Charles II returned from exile and the monarchy was restored. It is precisely after 1660 that Spanish influence becomes most marked, hence our interest in this period in particular and the need to discriminate which works we can consider translations, as well as to get to know better those men of letters who decided to adapt Spanish comedies. 2.2.1 The Hispanic presence in English theatre: 1600–1642 The borrowing of ideas from Spanish literature was not a custom that began with the playwrights of the Restoration. Indeed, the influence of Spanish writers was already felt in the sixteenth century, although in the case of the theatre it did not become so marked until the beginning of the 1600s, coinciding, precisely, with the powerful development of the theatre in Spain during its Siglo de Oro. This presence of Spanish theatre is, however, surprising if one takes into account the political and social situation of the two countries at the time. First of all, theatre in England and Spain had evolved independently since the medieval period, and literary relations between the two countries were not favoured by the political circumstances; both nations were at war in the periods 1585–1604 and 1624–1630, which were crucial for the development of their respective theatres. Travel between the two countries was virtually impossible in these years, and the direct influence of Spanish theatre on that of England was very limited, just as English works hardly affected Spanish playwrights. Secondly, the presence of Spanish comedy authors was difficult in a period of political tension, given that any kind of allusion was strictly controlled by the censors. The Master of the Revels had the task of reading all the works and ensuring that no negative comment regarding the Church or, particularly, political authority, was reflected in the printed lines or on the stage. Furthermore, English law expressly prohibited the appearance of any contemporary kings in plays; given the monarchic and Catholic nature of Spanish drama, it is to be supposed that the English censors would not look kindly on many Spanish plays. The hostile comments with which Spanish authors of the time laced their works were notorious, such as the attacks of Lope against the son-in-law of James I in La nueva victoria de Don Gonzalo de Córdoba and El Brasil restituido, or the criticisms of Henry VIII and his “illegitimate” daughter included by Tirso in No hay peor sordo (Loftis 1987: 44). In the case of palace performances, masques were still the preferred form of entertainment, a kind of spectacle that combined music, dance and visual richness, and in which on occasions the monarchs themselves would participate. Such performances flourished especially under Charles I, whose wife, Henrietta Maria, professed a passion for the theatre. Tragedies and pastorals also triumphed at court, although some of these were also performed in the public and private



Chapter 2.  The translation of the Spanish classics in Restoration England 

theatres of London. The economic plight of many companies prevented them commissioning new works, and the usual practice was to restage works already in their repertory, mostly from the Elizabethan period, or to go back to these works for themes and plots for new creations. Apparently, the public were delighted with these performances, which they often went to see without prior knowledge even of the title of the work (Edwards 1981: 22). In this state of affairs the timing of the entry of Spanish comedy into England did not seem, a priori, very propitious; however, Fletcher and some of his contemporaries and successors are known to have composed comedies of intrigue a la española (Loftis 1987: 236). Let us see, then, how Spanish comedy adjusted to the English stage. If relations between Spain and England were scarce, this was not the case with those between England and the Low Countries or France. The alliance between the English and the Dutch, who had been subjected to Spanish domination for many years, allowed the English to read Spanish comedies, and even see them performed in Amsterdam. Also, the events that took place in France between 1612 and 1615 stimulated the fashion for things Spanish throughout Europe: the wedding between the heir to the Spanish throne (later Felipe IV) and the daughter of Henry IV of France, and that of Louis XIII with Ana of Austria, daughter of Felipe III of Spain, increased the number of French nobles at the court of Spain and vice versa. As Hume affirms (1964: 282), Ana of Austria never relinquished her Spanish retinue at her French court, in which Spanish actors and authors were present. This circumstance undoubtedly stimulated Spanish theatre on the other side of the Pyrenees, starting a tendency that continued during the reign of Louis XIV of France: Everything Spanish was the rage in France — Spanish dress was the fashion. The Spanish gallant air was not only adopted, but its name, and dozens of other Spanish terms, were naturalised in France. The games, the dances, the terms of endearment, the favourite dishes, all had Spanish names. Cervantes, writing in 1616, says: ‘No man or woman in France fails to learn Castilian’. In fact, Spaniards […] were imitated both in garb and manners as nearly as the Frenchmen could manage to do it. (Hume, M. 1964: 282)

England could not ignore this Spanish invasion, which was beginning to influence its theatre and which attained its maximum expression from 1660 onwards. As early as 1610, Ben Jonson wrote ironically of the admiration for all things Spanish at the court of James I: Aske from your courtier, to your innes of court-man, To your mere millaner, they will tell you all, Your Spanish iennet is the best horse. Your Spanish

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Stoupe is the best garbe. Your Spanish beard Is the best cut. Your Spanish ruffes are the best Weare. Your Spanish Pauin the best daunce. Your Spanish titillation in a gloue The best perfume. And, for your Spanish pike, And Spanish blade, let your poore Captaine speake. (The Alchemist, IV. iv, in Loftis 1987: 109)

Hence, although the periods of tension prevented the English from seeing comedy in Spain, they did not stop Spanish being read. Access to Spanish books, including theatrical works, was not difficult; the majority were published in Holland. Students of the Spanish language of this time had an excellent dictionary-grammar available: Richard Perceval’s Dictionary of National Biography (1591), which was followed by others such as The Key to the Spanish Tongue (Lewis Owen, 1605), Entrance to the Spanish Tongue (John Sandford, 1611), Vocabularium Hispanicolatinum (John Minsheu, 1617), Arte breue para aprender a leer la lengua española (Juan de Luna, 1623), etc. (Tarantino 1995: 49–50). Thus many scholars, while unable to speak the language, could read it, as was the case of Fletcher, Shirley and Massinger. Testimonies exist of the presence of Spanish teachers in London from 1619; some words proceeding from Spanish were even incorporated into English, especially those of a military (armada, soldado), commercial (arroba, embargo), civil (privado, corregidor) or religious character (descalzas) (Tarantino 1995: 55). This trend was favoured by the pro-Spanish attitude of the two monarchs who occupied the English throne during this period, James I (1603–1625) and Charles I (1625–1649), a position that on occasions gave rise to confrontation with Parliament, which was particularly hostile towards Spain. It was James I who reopened links with Spain after the end of war in 1604: diplomatic relations restarted, English merchants had access to Spanish ports and some scholars and men of letters decided to travel there, sometimes sent by the Government, sometimes motivated only by a desire to get to know Spain and learn the language (Loftis 1987: 108). Some of these tourists left written record of their opinions on Spanish cities, customs and entertainments; such is the case of William Cecil, Earl of Roos, who after a stay of seven months in 1609–1610 was unstinted in his praise of Spanish comedies, as “they are not indecent like the French or the Italian [comedies], nor ridiculously affected, like the English ones” (Shaw 2000: 33–34; the translation is mine). Writers such as Endymion Porter, Kenelm Digby and Richard Fanshawe, among others, stimulated by the keen curiosity of the scientific spirit that was sweeping England, travelled to Spain at the beginning of the seventeenth century



Chapter 2.  The translation of the Spanish classics in Restoration England 

and, presumably, attended theatrical performances.2 In the case of official visits (for example, on the occasion of the baptism of the Spanish king Felipe IV), records exist of the acts held in honour of the guests, and which included the performance of Spanish theatrical works. These visits became routine during the negotiations surrounding the marriage of the future Charles I of England and the daughter of Felipe III of Spain, for which James I had sent, as ambassador, Sir John Digby, whose son, George Digby, would serve as translator of comedies into English. These warm diplomatic relations were doubtless favoured by the wisdom in diplomacy of Diego Sarmiento de Acuña, Count of Gondomar, Spanish Ambassador at the Court of James I, who the citizens criticised for his influence over the will of the monarch.3 Charles I himself, while still Crown Prince, visited Madrid in July 1623, to the accompaniment of a variety of festivities, theatre included, although dance and other visual spectacles predominated, given the limited knowledge the future monarch had of the Spanish language (Loftis 1987: 153–154). While the presence of Spanish actors in England would not have been common, or would at least have been less frequent than that of the French, we know of performances by the troupe of Juan Navarro Oliver, which visited the country during the reign of Charles I and acted at his court in October 1634 and December 1635 (Edwards 1981:  9). We may suppose that these direct relations favoured knowledge of Spanish theatre among the nobles of England, who, impressed by the Romantic tone and intrigue of the Spanish stage as well as by its aristocratic and monarchic nature, began to include scenes from them in their own works or commission adaptations from playwrights of the time. Numerous pieces began to be performed whose titles clearly allude to Spanish history and culture: The Queen of Aragon (Herberts), The Cruelty of the Spaniards in Peru (Davenant), The Spanish Gypsy (Rowley), The Renegado, The Spanish Curate (Massinger), etc. Ben Jonson, in his Alchemist, writes part of two scenes in perfect Spanish, having probably learnt the language when he enlisted in the Spanish army of Flanders (Shaw 2000: 115). However, many of the pieces were not inspired by Spanish theatre: in some the plots came from prose works, easier to adapt than the polymetric verse of comedy, while in others it is difficult to specify the source, as is the case with two 2. There are frequent comments in letters, reports and travel writings on the history of the Spanish language and its phonological characteristics, as well as references to certain Spanish words, expressions and sayings which caught the attention of English authors (Shaw 2000: 122). 3. The first performance, in 1624, of A Game at Chess is a clear example of the English public’s discontent with their King. The work, performed to great success to celebrate the failure of matrimonial negotiations with Spain, faced from the very beginning official condemnation and the displeasure of the King, since it ridiculed on stage both the Spanish King and the Count of Gondomar.

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

works analysed by Loftis (1987: 242–246): The Fair Maid of the Inn and The Loyal Subject, apparently derived from one of Cervantes’ Novelas Ejemplares (La ilustre fregona) and from the tragedy of Lope de Vega El duque de Viseo, respectively, although the study does not reach definite conclusions (Tarantino [1995:  22–25] includes only the first of these as Spanish inspired). Moreover, the absence of polymetry in most cases, and the fact that adaptations of Spanish classics were also made from their French translation, make it difficult to determine whether the base text of the resulting works was a Spanish comedia or whether, on the contrary, the translators relied only on the French version. It is thus not surprising that the sources consulted are far from unanimous about which English works are translations of Spanish texts and which simply imitate certain aspects of them. Tarantino (1995), in a wide-ranging study of the English works of this period and their sources, mentions numerous pieces that find their inspiration, to a greater or lesser degree, in Spanish dramaturgy and prose, at the same time rejecting others that critics have long considered, erroneously, to be Spanish inspired. Historian Martin Hume, in his Spanish Influence on English Literature (first published in 1905), details works based on the Novelas ejemplares of Cervantes or on stories from the Quixote, and at the same time mentions a series of plays in which a “Spanish feeling” is noticeable, but whose source is unknown. A year later, Schevill, in an essay entitled “On the Influence of Spanish Literature upon English in the Early 17th Century” (mentioned by Loftis 1987: 237) reduces to three the number of English pieces derived from Spanish ones, while Pane (1944) mentions only two. For his part, Loftis (1987: 247) considers that in this first part of the seventeenth century only four works proceeded from Spanish comedias. These four comedies, first performed after the fruitless journey of Charles I to Madrid with a view to marriage with the sister of Felipe IV, are the following: 1. Love’s Cure, or the Martial Maid, by John Fletcher, first performed in 1608 according to Tarantino, but of unknown date for Schevill and Loftis. It is an adaptation of the work of Guillén de Castro La fuerza de la costumbre (1625?). Schevill, for his part, considers the Spanish work anonymous. 2. The Renegado, or the Gentleman of Venice, by Philip Massinger, first performed in 1624; an adaptation of the work of Cervantes Los baños de Argel, according to Loftis. Tarantino cites as the source El renegado, which, in the opinion of this author, was written by Lope de Rueda, an erroneous attribution since there was no work of this title in the output of the Spanish playwright. 3. The Young Admiral, by James Shirley, first performed in 1633; an adaptation of the work of Lope de Vega Don Lope de Cardona (1617). 4. The Opportunity, also by James Shirley, first performed in 1634; an adaptation of the work of Tirso de Molina El castigo del penseque (1613).



Chapter 2.  The translation of the Spanish classics in Restoration England 

Table 1.  English comedies and their Spanish dramatic sources (1600–1642) WORKS

Hume 1905

Love’s Cure, or the Martial Maid The Renegado, or the Gentleman… The Young Admiral The Opportunity

------Lope ----

Schevill Pane 1944 1906 ? ---Lope Tirso

------Lope Tirso

Loftis 1987

Tarantino 1995

Castro Cervantes Lope Tirso

Castro Rueda ---Tirso

Table 1 summarises the origin of the source texts for the possible translations according to the five authors mentioned. If no source is mentioned, it is because the researcher has not reported one. The symbol “?” indicates that the source text is not known to the author. Loftis shows no hesitation in ordering these works on the basis of their greater or lesser fidelity to the original. Thus he considers that the works of Shirley (the last two in the table) evidence a great similarity to their Spanish counterparts; next would be Love’s Cure, while he qualifies The Renegado as the most distant from the Spanish original.4 Although it is not my intention to carry out a detailed analysis, I shall pay special attention to the two works of James Shirley, The Young Admiral and The Opportunity, basing this choice on the following considerations: first, almost all the critics agree that these two works have a clear Spanish source, to be precise two comedies written by two important authors of the time; second they are the only dramas of the Fénix and Tirso de Molina translated into English in the seventeenth century, a truly insignificant number if we consider the huge output of these playwrights; and finally the significance acquired by Shirley as a translator, since he anticipated strategies and techniques that would become commonplace in the adaptations other translators made of Spanish comedies during the Restoration. James Shirley (1596–1666), poet and playwright, Catholic and monarchist, always enjoyed the support of the Court and of members of the nobility, of whom he made mention in the dedications to his works. It was to a noble, George Lord Berkley, that he dedicated the printing, in 1637, of The Young Admiral, first 4. Although they share a common subject and similarities in the plot, there are many differences between Love’s Cure and La fuerza de la costumbre. The English work also seems to have been based on an earlier translation of Gerardo, a work by Gonzalo de Céspedes y Meneses, which Fletcher had already turned to on other occasions in the search for material for his creations (Loftis 1987: 255). The Renegado, too, is based on other works by Cervantes, especially one of the stories in the first part of the Quixote: “Historia del cautivo”. Despite the parallelisms between the English work and Los baños de Argel, Loftis concludes that in no way may it be considered an adaptation (ibid.: 257).

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

performed in 1633 on the occasion of the birthday of Charles I. It appears that the performance was received with applause by both the King and the Master of the Revels, who, when he registered the work on 3 July of the same year, affirmed: The comedy called the Young Admiral, being free from oaths, profaneness or obsceneness, hath given me much delight and satisfaction in the reading, and may serve for a pattern to other poets, not only for the bettering of manners and language, but for the improvement of the quality, which hath received some brushings of late. (in Gosse 1888: xxi).

It would not be far-fetched to suppose that Shirley had wished to create a work that would enjoy the censor’s approval, especially after the scandal caused by the staging of his previous play, The Ball, in which the actors were disguised as well-known Court personalities. Although there may be no great similarity at first sight, The Young Admiral follows quite closely the plot of Don Lope de Cardona; it is true that there are certain omissions that the translator attempts to make up for with comic characters and scenes, as well as with the addition of dialogue between the main characters referring to moral dilemmas (love against patriotism, or love between parent and child against love between lovers). Only two characters’ names are respected (even don Lope becomes Vittori) and the place in which the action takes place is modified: Aragón and Sicily in the Spanish version, Naples in the English case. As a translator of Spanish, Shirley constitutes a clear example of how extralinguistic factors may condition the translator’s work; thus, despite his friendship with James I and Charles I, both of whom were well disposed towards better relations with Spain, Shirley, who was conscious of the suspicion of Parliament, wanted neither of his works to reveal its Spanish origin. This he achieved in the most diverse ways: for example, he situates his work in the Italian Court and gives his characters Italian names. While this is no novelty with respect to many other of his romantic comedies, in which the action also takes place in Mediterranean countries, what is significant is that he omits any reference to the historical personalities present in the Spanish version, such as Pedro the Cruel or the person who gives the work its name, replaced by something more generic.5 The description of these characters is more elaborate than in the original, in which primacy is given to the action. The polymetry of the Spanish text is replaced by blank verse, which

5. In the article “Lope’s Don Lope de Cardona; a Defence of the Duke de Sessa” (1941: 348– 358), Bork attempts to show that Lope wrote this work in defence of the Duque de Sessa after his exile from Madrid in 1611. This historical reference had no relevance in England, and so was omitted by the translator.



Chapter 2.  The translation of the Spanish classics in Restoration England 

Shirley employs with a mastery that imbues some passages of his translation with an intense poetic tone. Despite all this, the original text left its mark in many ways: perhaps the clearest example is the introduction of the gracioso, in imitation of the Spanish works, who was the protagonist of the comic parts of the play. The incorporation of new scenes meant that the play lasted longer than was usual at that time, and made the action less agile than in the theatre of Lope de Vega. There is no record of the first performance of The Opportunity, which suggests that in all likelihood this took place at Court. In this work, Shirley starts with greater originality from a Spanish original, Tirso’s El castigo del penseque (1634), although much of the work’s success (and the critics considered it one of the most comic works in his repertoire) was due to the art of the Spanish playwright. In both cases, the plot develops in a similar fashion: a young man arrives in a foreign city and is mistaken for a member of a noble family. In Tirso’s work this is Don Rodrigo Girón, who arrives in Flanders accompanied by his servant, the droll. In Shirley, the protagonist, Aurelio Andreozzi, makes a stop in Urbino on his way from Milan, accompanied by his servant and a friend. Again, the characters are given Italian names, and the action takes place in Italy. The humour derives from mistaken identity, a device typical of this Spanish variety of the genre. However, the circumstances that motivate the protagonist’s actions and the dénouement of the work are different from those of the original: in love with two women, a lady and a woman of his own station, Tirso’s don Rodrigo, faithful to the conventions of the time, marries this latter. Aurelio, on the other hand, does not culminate his desires in matrimony, thus diverting the work from the anticipated ending. Rather, Shirley seems to move closer to the kind of realist comedy that he had written in the third decade of the century, and in which he had argued that reason, not passion, should rule over love. Shirley thus distances himself to show us in the last act an Aurelio who does not let himself be swayed by emotional conflicts as does his Spanish counterpart, but is ruled by respect for the established social hierarchy and accepted rules for matrimony. The finality of his work does not seem, therefore, to be just to entertain: it has a social component missing in the original. It resembles its source, however, in the development of humour and the use of language, as it endows its characters of higher rank with a richer vocabulary and a greater fluidity in the syntax of their verse. In the absence of a more profound analysis of the translations, it seems evident that Shirley neither attains the humour of Tirso or the wit of Lope de Vega, nor the depth that this latter author confers on his work with the incorporation of elements from Spanish history. The scenes succeed each other in a much more orderly fashion and with greater fluency in the Spanish pieces, these being aspects that the translators of the Restoration period tried to compensate for. In The Opportunity,



Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Shirley is able to give only limited force to the code of honour, an element that Dryden would later describe as essential to the development of what he called “the Spanish plot”. It is difficult to specify the personal and/or professional reasons that led Shirley to translate these works rather than others of the same genre. It is possible that both came into his hands as a result of Spanish-English contacts during the periods of peace, or even through the Ambassador to England at the time, the Conde de Gondomar, who we know had an extensive library and was a keen follower of the theatre. In the case of Don Lope de Cardona, Shirley may have found the dominant theme of the work a particularly attractive one, that is, loyalty to the royal family whatever the circumstances, as it had much to do with the translator’s own situation — that of a courtier relying on the support of Royalty. As for The Opportunity, Shirley may have been fascinated by the wit of Tirso de Molina and stimulated to create an entertaining work, with certain moral overtones, that would suit the tastes of the Court. Whatever the case, it is clear that Shirley moves away from the Jonsonian tradition of literal translation and towards the new philosophy of what Dryden would call “paraphrase”, or primacy of meaning over words, which was already triumphing in France. 2.2.2 The Interregnum (1642 -1660) On 2 September 1642 the bourgeois Puritan revolution headed by Oliver Cromwell took power and put an abrupt end to an English dramatic tradition that had emerged in the Middle Ages and reached its maximum expression during the Elizabethan and Jacobean periods. Puritan intransigence not only led, that same year, to the closing down of the theatres, but also found more radical expression: in 1649 Charles I was beheaded and England was declared a republic. During the eighteen years of the dictatorship all artistic activities of a public nature, such as concerts, dance and of course theatrical performances were forbidden by law. Despite this political and artistic rupture, however, dramatic activity did not disappear altogether, although the Government did everything possible to see that it did. A few travelling companies from the former period went underground, with or without the patronage of a noble, and kept the tradition alive. There are also reports of a group of actors who formed an itinerant company outside England and gave performances in Germany. The works represented corresponded mainly to the Jacobean period. Indeed it would seem that a work by Shirley based on a comedy of Tirso de Molina’s, The Opportunity, was part of the repertory. Albert Dessoff mentions a comedy by the English translator, Die Gelegenheit, represented by “englische Komödianten” at the Court of Dresden in June 1660 (in Mekemon 1991: 5).



Chapter 2.  The translation of the Spanish classics in Restoration England 

Noteworthy in this period is the translation activity of the diplomat Richard Fanshawe (1608–1666) during his time in Spain, the country in which he took refuge after the victory of Cromwell in the Civil War. A lover of the language and literature of Spain, Fanshawe had to his credit a large number of translations of poetry, both Graeco-Latin (Virgil, Horace) and Spanish (Góngora, Bartolomé Leonardo de Argensola). It is known that during his extended stay in Spain Fanshawe attended several performances in the Coliseo del Buen Retiro in Madrid and in various courtyard theatres. It is nonetheless surprising that only three works in his extensive output were translations of dramatic texts, and that of these only one had as its source the work of a Spanish playwright: the palace comedy Querer por sólo querer, written in 1622 by Antonio Hurtado de Mendoza to mark the Queen’s birthday, and which Fanshawe turned into English between 1653 and 1654 with the title To Love only for Love Sake. It would not be until 1670, however, four years after the translator’s death, that the work was first published. It is equally surprising that Fanshawe should choose a work for production in English that is far from matching the genius of other playwrights of the time, such as Lope de Vega or Calderón, and, at the same time, should stray so far from what was his usual practice in translation. Furthermore, there is no record of Fanshawe having translated any other comedy, nor that he had seen the original work performed. In a detailed article, Ángel García Gómez (1999: 125 and following) terms this translation “atypical” and analyses the reasons that led Fanshawe to select the work of Hurtado de Mendoza. Everything would seem to indicate that, unconcerned by the literary standing of the Spanish author, he let himself be carried away by the lyricism and subject matter of a work that was already known in England in order to demonstrate the poetic capacity of the English language, and prove it was sufficiently mature to compete with Spanish, Italian, French and even Latin (García Gómez 1999: 123).6 It would seem, too, that despite the careful attention paid to scenographic elements, it was not Fanshawe’s immediate purpose to have his text performed on the English stage. Davidson (1999: 672) has found no evidence of the work being staged in England, though there might have been the odd private performance. Accounts only exist of the performance of some scenes of the work, by Fanshawe’s three eldest daughters, during a visit to Queen Mariana of Austria in June 1664, with the possibility that they might have had the opportunity to repeat it on other occasions 6. In the comedy The Goblins, by Sir John Suckling, one of the characters mentions the title of the work in Spanish, suggesting the audience would immediately recognise it. It seems that the English Ambassador in Madrid, Lord Anston, may have attended a performance of Querer…, as might other young English nobles who, in 1633, travelled to Madrid to learn Spanish, and who would have been good propagandists once they were back in their own country (García Gómez 1999: 130–131).



Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

(García Gómez 1999: 134–135). Whatever the case, the translator pays detailed attention to the scenographic components, as though he intended the potential reader to see beyond the poetic amplitude of the work and visualise it on the stage. Despite the marginal character of this translation in the corpus of Fanshawe in particular and the literary production of the time in general, in the field of Translation Studies this work reveals, as do those of James Shirley, the new direction that translation was taking in the British Isles. The English version presented numerous variations with respect to the original, as the translator frees himself from lexical and syntactic dictatorship in order to remain faithful to its spirit and meaning. He thus abandons the “literal” translation of his early days to remain faithful to the sense of the original, although without being a slave to verse and rhyme. Fanshawe himself defends the translation as “something poured out of one vessel into another” at the risk of losing “much of the Life and Quicknesse” (García Gómez 1999: 140). Not for nothing, on the cover of Querer por solo querer is the work described as “written in Spanish” and “paraphrased in English”, an exact description since it fits the concept of paraphrase described by Dryden. Fanshawe thus joins translators like Durham and Dryden who, endowed with such qualities as a good knowledge of the Spanish language (as a result of long stays in the country and wide reading of the literature) and a significant poetic capacity (educated at the University of Cambridge and outstanding humanist), decided to abandon literalness and to develop a kind of translation that would combine faithfulness to the original with beauty.7 At the same time, while England was undergoing a period of total artistic lethargy, Spanish theatre was triumphing in Western Europe, principally in Germany, France and Holland. 2.2.3 The Restoration period: historical and cultural context After the death of Cromwell in 1658, Parliament, meeting in extraordinary session, decided that the legitimate heir to the throne, Charles, son of the executed Charles I, should return from his exile in France and Holland. On 29 May 1660 King Charles II arrived in London to an enthusiastic popular welcome, and initiated a new historical period known by general consensus as the Restoration. It is important to note, however, that from the cultural point of view this period is not 7. The work Fanshawe used as his source, and which he translated in its entirety, consists of two parts: the comedy Querer por solo querer and a description (in prose and verse) of what happened at the fiestas of Aranjuez of 1622, titled Fiesta que se hizo en Aranjuez. Two works had their first performance during these fiestas: La gloria de Niquea, written by the Count of Villamediana at the request of the King himself, and El vellocino de oro, by Lope de Vega. The translation of the verse part shows Fanshawe’s skill in transferring lines of great formal richness into English. A more detailed analysis of this translation may be found in Braga Riera, J. (2004).



Chapter 2.  The translation of the Spanish classics in Restoration England

limited to the years immediately following the reestablishment of the Crown, but rather constitutes a unitary period that includes the reigns of the restored King Charles II (1660–1685), his successor James II (1685–1689), and William and Mary (1689–1702). By the ascent to the throne of Anne in 1703, the cultural and dramatic context had changed so much that a new period is usually considered to have begun: the Illustration.8 The reign of Charles II was a time of contrasts: on the one hand the scientific discoveries and a love of political, religious and ideological freedom; on the other the oppression of Catholics and the censorship of books. Refinement at Court contrasts with the poverty of many, although the rights enjoyed until then by the Monarchy had been severely eroded by an ever more powerful Parliament. The period is also characterised by the wars England had to wage, especially against Holland, and other disasters such as the Great Plague of 1665 and the Great Fire of London in 1666. The arrival of the King from exile greatly favoured the world of the arts. One of the first measures he adopted was to guarantee the right of English citizens to hold public festivities, and resume the cultural activities they had enjoyed in the past: concerts, shows and, of course, dramatic performances. His love of the theatre was born during his exile in France. Further, he was the first king of England to attend a public performance, setting an example that would be assiduously followed by nobles and courtiers. The journeys the monarch undertook during his exile, principally to Holland, Belgium and Spain, were decisive in his cultural development. His stay in France coincided with the finest period in French literature, and it was in this country that he had the opportunity to know Spanish comedy, both in French adaptations and in the original, as he was familiar with the Spanish language. Although we cannot state with certainty the number of Spanish plays he read or saw performed in France, Holland or Spain, he no doubt gained some knowledge of such works, and recommended certain Spanish comedies to two playwrights of the time: Samuel Tuke and John Crowne. Tuke himself, who had accompanied the King into exile and was the author of one of the first adaptations into English of a Spanish comedy (The Adventures of Five Hours), wrote of the interest of the King in languages and the most varied fields of knowledge: He understand[s] Spanish, and Italian; speakes and writes French correctly; He is well vers’d in ancient and modern History, has read divers of the choicest peeces of the Politicks, hath studied some useful parts of the Mathematicks, as Fortification, 8. R. D. Hume (1976: 5–10) considers that in the period between 1660 and 1737 there was a certain unity in the history of English theatre, despite the great variety of existing genres and sub-genres. More specifically, he affirms that all the works first performed in the period 1667– 1680 can be included under the heading “Restoration theatre”.





Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

and the knowledge of the Globe; but his chief delight is in Navigation, to which his Genius doth so incline him, that... I have heard many expert Seamen... speak of it with delight and wonder; in General, here is a true friend to Literature, and to Learned Men. (in Loftis 1973: 31–32)

This interest in travel, study and writing was doubtless favoured by the fact that a great part of his retinue was made up of poets and learned men, such as Thomas Killigrew, Sir William Davenant or Thomas Hobbes, who for a time would be the King’s tutor. Charles II may be described as the great promoter of Spanish comedy in England. Although, as we have mentioned earlier, before the closure of the theatres in 1642 some English dramatists (Shirley, Beaumont, Fletcher) had already found inspiration in Spanish prose and verse for the form and treatment of their subject matter, the number of pieces based exclusively on Spanish comedies, and not on other genres, now increased significantly. Between 1642 and 1660, Spanish theatre spread, as we have seen, throughout Western Europe (Germany, France, Holland, Italy). With the arrival of the monarch, the English began to know part of the production of the Golden Age Spanish theatre, a direct consequence of four years of alliance with the King of Spain, of Charles having established his residence during exile in the Low Countries — where Spanish was the language at Court — and finally of the journey to Spain in 1659. Studies on Spain and its language were encouraged, and grammars, dictionaries and teachers of Spanish became ever more frequent, at least in London; all this was undoubtedly a stimulus to the practice of translation.9 With the death of the King in 1685 the theatre entered a period of decline. During the brief reign of James I, the number of courtiers loyal to the King fell sharply due to his political ineffectiveness. The state of the theatres worsened considerably and performances often ended in outright failure. The reign of William and Mary, starting in 1689, did little to favour dramatic art, perhaps because neither the King nor the Queen showed much interest in it despite the massive presence at the theatre of the middle class, which was now more affluent thanks to commerce and nascent industry. But the attitude of the public, often boorish, and the frustration of the actors only served to aggravate further a decadence that was now irreversible.

9. Theatre attendance was favoured by a rapid growth in the population of London, from 200.000 at the beginning of the seventeenth century to 400.000 fifty years later (Loftis 1996: 24). As a consequence, the number of works also increased: a total of 440 new plays (or old ones profoundly reworked) between 1660 and 1700.



Chapter 2.  The translation of the Spanish classics in Restoration England 

2.2.4 English Restoration drama After this rapid review of the historical and cultural background of the Restoration, we shall proceed to analyse the English theatrical panorama in this period. The popular custom of assiduous theatre attendance typical of the Elizabethan and Jacobean periods, eroded by the eighteen years of prohibition under the Republic, re-emerged with the Restoration, albeit without its earlier vigour. Proof of this is that, of the twelve theatres existing in London before 1660, most of which were destroyed by the Government of Cromwell, only two remained. For years the only two companies operating in the capital were The King’s Company, led by Killigrew and which received economic support from royalty, and The Duke’s Company (the Company of the Duke of York), supported by the King’s younger brother, the future James II. Killigrew managed to recruit the most experienced actors, to whom he added a group of three or four actresses, quite a novelty at that time in England as female roles had always been played by young men.10 The King’s Company built its first theatre in 1660; a more modern one, the Theatre Royal, in which many Restoration comedies were exclusively presented, followed in 1663. Its total destruction in a fire (1674) led to the construction of a new playing space, but from this time on the company entered into a decline that only ended with its absorption, in 1682, by The Duke’s Company. This did not divide again until 1695, and so for thirteen years London had only one theatrical company whose activity took place in two theatres: the new Theatre Royal and the luxurious Duke’s Theatre, opened in 1671. There are clear differences between these spaces and the Elizabethan stage; the theatre was now fully covered and lit by candles, painted scenery began to appear (following the Italian fashion) together with mobile sets and mechanisms to raise and lower the actors. At the same time, the intimacy established between actors and audience in the previous period was gradually lost: the action became more distant from the audience (more notably so in tragedy than in comedy), who were separated from the actors by curtains. The protection of royalty led to greater respect in English society for actors and actresses who worked in these companies. A good memory was essential, as titles changed almost daily and only new performances lasted as long as three days. There was also a change in the kind of people that attended these performances as compared with the Elizabethan and Jacobean periods; during the reign of Charles II, the typical audience was made up of aristocrats and courtiers, who 10. Restoration impresarios had probably seen women on the French and Italian stages, and imitated this novelty. In Spain too, female roles were played by women from an early date; this was not the case in Germany, where women did not appear on stage until 1717 (Oehrlein 1993: 221).

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

were joined by persons belonging to the middle class (civil servants, officials, politicians), together with their servants, both men and women. The mentality and religious education of the bourgeoisie meant that they did not go to the theatre. Later, the lack of support of James II and William and Mary resulted in the nobles going less frequently, with the consequent arrival of the middle classes and a loss of the refinement that had been the hallmark of the reign of Charles II. Performances were held daily, with the exception of Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays in Lent, Christmas Day, Easter Week and periods of royal mourning, as occurred, for six and four weeks respectively, following the deaths of the mother of Charles I and of his younger brother. It is not my intention to undertake a detailed analysis of the different genres and subgenres cultivated in this period. Firstly, because in the seventeenth century the Spanish concept of comedia did not exactly correspond to the English “comedy”; in the Siglo de Oro the term comedia was a broad one and referred to “everything written to be staged, whether it was a tragedy, a drama, or a tragicomedy” (Oliva & Torres 2000: 203; the translation is mine), although it might also mean comedia cómica as opposed to dramas and tragedies. The five English works that are the object of this study correspond to the concept of comedy given by Dryden in his Essay of Dramatick Poesie: “The imitation of common persons and ordinary speaking” (1668: 54);11 Allardyce Nicoll groups them under the same heading in the listing of theatrical works of the Restoration period included as an appendix to his A History of English Drama 1660–1700 (1965: 386–447), with the sole exception of The Adventures of Five Hours, which he catalogues as a tragicomedy. The second reason is that not even the writers of the period themselves had a sufficient awareness of the concept of genre for them to make clear distinctions. It is difficult, therefore, to classify works as “comedy of wit”, “comedy of humour” or “comedy of manners” — this last also called “comedy of sex” (Russell 1965:  184) on account of its realistic perspective on sex and marriage — , etc. Nicoll (1965: 193–201) distinguishes grosso modo six types of comedy: “Jonsonian”, “intrigue”, “Dryden”, “manners”, “farce” and “sentiment”; comedies showing a Spanish influence did not constitute a group in themselves. Although they mention a type of theatre they call “love and honour” with French and Spanish influences, this does not have sufficient entity to figure as an independent type, and so, adds Nicoll, it is included in the category of “comedy of manners” or “comedy of intrigue”. Aránzazu Usandizaga (in Hidalgo 1988) establishes a general division 11. It is distinguished, therefore, from “serious play”, or “the representation of Nature, but ‘tis Nature wrought up to a higher pitch” (1668: 54). Both the “serious works” and the “comedies” are, at bottom, representations of human nature in his definition of the theatrical work: “A just and lively Image of Humane Nature, representing its Passions and Humours, and the Changes of Fortune to which it is subject; for the Delight and Instruction of Mankind” (ibid.: 10).



Chapter 2.  The translation of the Spanish classics in Restoration England 

between heroic drama, the tragedy typical of the Elizabethan and Jacobean periods, pathetic and sentimental tragedy and, finally, comedy, which she subclassifies, in turn, into three types: manners, intrigue and Spanish-inspired comedy, this latter deriving, above all, from the so-called “cloak and dagger” works. The code of honour, graciosos and love intrigues began, then, to appear on the London stage, together with a whole series of elements that configured a type of theatre with its own characteristics and which did not fit into the established categories, as is shown by the definition given by Ernest Mérimée of “cape and sword drama” in his A History of Spanish Literature: “This is the national comedy, of a purely Spanish type. It depicts contemporary manners of the middle class (frequently idealized) by means of an intrigue (enredo) usually complicated and romantic, and relies for interest more upon an ingenious succession of unexpected turns rather than upon philosophical study of characters and exact realism” (in Tarantino 1995: 33–34). Loftis (1973: 65) considers the years 1660–1668 to constitute a unitary phase in the development of English theatre, as they saw the birth of a new subgenre that he termed “Spanish romance”. During this period, restagings alternated with new works: among the first are included both the new plays created between 1600 and 1642 that presented Spanish elements (as is the case of part of the production by Beaumont and Fletcher who, as we have seen, turned to Spanish prose literature in their search for subject matter for their comedies), and translations of Spanish works (in November 1660 Shirley’s translation The Opportunity was performed and two years later The Young Admiral, by the same author, appeared on stage) (Loftis 1973: 66). The new creations include a series of translations from The Adventures… (1663) to An Evening’s Love, this latter performed on 12 June 1668. After 1668, Loftis considers that the conventions of the so-called “Spanish plot” were not so strictly observed: the authors, while still following the sources, subject matter and situations of the comedy, strayed more freely from them for their own purposes. In this group are included works by Dryden, Wycherley and Aphra Behn (ibid.: 67). These differences will be crucial in distinguishing those works that are adaptations of Spanish comedies from those that are so far removed from their source that it is hard to consider them translations. 2.2.5 Spanish comedies and Restoration theatre Patricia M. Seward, in her article “Was the English Restoration Theatre Significantly Influenced by Spanish Drama?” (1972) concludes, on the basis of information provided by earlier writers (Harrage, Nicoll) and from her own analysis of ten works, that Spanish influence is practically imperceptible in English Restoration drama taken as a whole:



Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

The adaptations and plays with borrowings certainly had no significance numerically; at a conservative estimate over six hundred and fifty dramatic items were written during the last four decades of the century, although some were never performed or published, and many are now lost. Many of these pieces were pageants and masks, Latin plays and pastorals, operas and dialogues, biblical, political and academical allegories, but by far the majority fell into the more common categories of tragedy, comedy and tragi-comedies […] Barely 2% of all Restoration tragedies, comedies and tragicomedies combined have any direct connection with the Spanish theatre. The eight borrowing playwrights involved represent only about one in twenty-three, or approximately 4% of the total number of Restoration dramatists […] and since the authors of nearly one hundred plays are still unknown to us the figure could be reduced still further. It is clear, therefore, that the percentage of plays with demonstrable Spanish borrowings and the percentage of borrowing authors are both so low as to exclude the possibility of any extensive Spanish influence on the Restoration theatre as a whole. (Seward 1972: 102–103)

Seward’s words describe a limited contribution of Spanish theatre to the English stage in quantitative terms. Qualitatively, however, Spanish influence acquires great importance for the translation scholar since, as we have anticipated in the first chapter of this work, although the number of adaptations into English was not very numerous these make up the greatest corpus of theatre translations into English up to that date, and their study allows important conclusions to be drawn regarding theatre translation at the time. The most representative characters of Spanish comedy coexist, therefore, alongside the Jacobean and Elizabethan heritage, French works and the influence of the commedia dell’ arte, as do the Spanish sense of humour, sense of honour and emotions such as jealousy and avarice. Before proceeding to the translations-adaptations of Spanish comedies into English during the Restoration, it would seem appropriate first to analyse the reasons why Spanish works did not enter England with the same facility they did other countries and, secondly, examine the factors that stimulated their presence in the British Isles. Religious, political, social and cultural reasons seem to have reduced the reception of Spanish comedies in England. Religion was certainly an important obstacle to the introduction of Spanish theatre. Charles II had little time for religious offices and sermons, and constantly demonstrated his support for the Church of England, though admittedly for purely political reasons: the great majority of Protestants considered that a uniform Church was necessary to maintain order and put an end to the sectarian activities of other confessions, such as the Independents, Baptists, and Quakers. The King, anxious not to place the Crown in jeopardy, aimed to please the various groups by proclaiming laws that did not always meet with the approval of the faithful worshippers, especially in the case of



Chapter 2.  The translation of the Spanish classics in Restoration England 

the Presbyterians. Popular opposition to Catholicism and the Pope reached a high point when the Duke of York decided to embrace the Catholic faith. Since the King had no legitimate heirs, the Duke appeared as the future heir to the throne, and the exclusion from the line of succession of a Catholic heir to the throne thus became the focus of political debate between spring 1679 and spring 1681 (Miller 1985: 63). Given this state of affairs, it is not surprising that theatre from a Catholic country, especially that with a marked religious character (of which Calderón de la Barca is a good example), was not well received. In the political arena, the war between the English and the Dutch in 1664–1667 gave way to another conflict between France and England. The French invasion of the Spanish territories in Holland led to the creation of the Triple Alliance (1668) by Holland, England and Sweden. Four years later however, France entered into an Alliance with England in a new conflict, in which Spain sided with the Low Countries. All this meant there was a period of political instability that affected normal relations between the powers involved. As well as religious and political aspects, cultural factors also played a fundamental part in the acceptance of Spanish theatre abroad. For Santoyo, one of the logical explanations that helps us understand why many comedies of the past have never been translated lies in the great cultural difference between the two nations. There are few things as “cultural” as comedy and humour, and so “many jokes, and not only those based on wordplay, are untranslatable; or, if translated, they lose their ‘spice’, charm, liveliness” (1987b: 14). Although in this context Santoyo employs the word comedia with the English meaning of “comedy”, the term may be used to cover theatrical activity in general, as rooted in the cultural tradition in which it develops. However, and while it is true that the ignorance of Spanish language and culture on the part of English translators seems to have operated against a greater receptiveness to Siglo de Oro theatre, it is equally true that some works were successfully translated, and were well received in the destination culture despite the difficulties imposed by humour or plays on words. Another relevant factor is that the important English theatrical tradition was not forgotten during Cromwell’s Dictatorship.  When the theatres reopened in 1660 there were no new works available for performance, which meant that the companies that existed had to turn to Elizabethan and Jacobean works: D’Avenant, for example, performed a total of nine works by Shakespeare that same year, and Jonson, Beaumont and Fletcher also triumphed in these early years, with a total of fifty works performed by Killigrew’s company in 1669 alone (Tarantino 1995: 29–30). It seems certain that the works of these playwrights circulated in printed form, and it is thus likely that they inspired other contemporary authors. However, despite the cultural distance and the political, social and religious circumstances of the time, the Spanish comedia makes itself visible in England, either in the form of adaptations or by leaving its mark, directly or indirectly, on



Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

other works created by Spanish playwrights. A case of indirect influence is that of Molière,12 whose comedies, many of them inspired by Spanish themes, triumphed on the English stage during the first years of the Restoration. The speed with which they arrived in London theatres is a clear indication of the close links existing between English and French drama (Nicoll 1965: 186). Paradoxically, the political situation also contributed to these good relations, as they meant that a King who was a theatre lover made contact with the dramatic conditions and tendencies of a nation, Spain, that in the words of Tuke was “the Nation of the World who are the happiest in the force and delicacy of their Inventions” (in Shaw 2000: 133). It should not be forgotten that Charles II and his retinue spent the four years before the Restoration in the Low Countries, which then belonged to Spain. The official language of the capital, Brussels, was Spanish, and so the English court in exile had plenty of opportunity to learn the language, become familiar with Spanish literature, and even to see the occasional comedy performed in the original language. It is more than likely, therefore, that the Monarch learnt Spanish and became acquainted with Spanish theatre. Although it is impossible to know exactly how many works he read or saw performed, or whether these works were in Spanish or adapted to French or Dutch, he had enough knowledge of Spanish theatre to recommend it to certain playwrights. Moreover, in London it was possible to acquire books in Spanish, most of them printed in Holland and transported to the capital by ship,13 although contacts between the two countries also made it possible for publications to arrive directly from Spain. However, and although this shows that Spanish books were read in England (in the original language or in translation), their presence was not as widespread as those in other languages, such as French or Italian (Loftis 1973: 58). From the first moment, Charles entered into contact with Philip IV of Spain, and these meetings led to the signing of a secret treaty by which the Spanish monarch permitted Charles II to reside in the Low Countries (where we know certain Spanish companies travelled and performed works of Lope de Vega and Calderón) in exchange for English assistance against France once the monarchy was restored. The King travelled to Spain in person in 1659 and visited, among other places, Zaragoza and Pamplona (Loftis 1973: 38). The marriage of Charles II to Catalina of Portugal, with whom he presumably communicated in Spanish, brought to the 12. A clear example of the mediating power of Molière’s theatre is Dom Juan ou le festin de pierre (1665), a work that, inspired in El burlador de Sevilla of Tirso is, still today, better known in Europe than the original play. 13. In his Diary, Pepys mentions visiting London bookshops in search of books in Spanish. Yet books printed in Spain were the majority in his library, as a result of his contacts with the Navy and his visits to the country. This is by no means an isolated case; there were many noblemen who possessed a considerable number of Spanish books (Loftis 1973: 55–57).



Chapter 2.  The translation of the Spanish classics in Restoration England 

Court works with Spanish or Portuguese subject matter once the Monarchy was restored. It is also on record that the Queen attended performances in the public theatres.14 However, as Loftis (ibid.: 54) rightly points out, this does not mean to say that English translations of Spanish works were commissioned to please the Queen, but rather that the Court took note of works that she might find appealing. Apart from this, and despite the opposition of the Anglican Church, in May 1670 the King decided to sign the Treaty of Dover, by which he allied himself with France to attack Holland at the same time as he professed his Catholicism. In exchange, King Louis of France, also a Catholic, promised him military support should his conversion provoke disorder in his country (Miller 1985:  61). Many Englishmen saw this alliance as a threat to the nation, as they considered the attack on Holland as the first step towards taking control of the whole of Western Europe. This two-way position adopted by Charles II clearly reflects his personality and his perspective on religion.15 About 1683, Gilbert Burnet said the following about the character of the King: He has many odd opinions about religion and morality; he thinks an implicitness in religion is necessary for the safety of government and he looks upon all inquisitiveness into these things as mischievous to the state; he thinks all appetites are free and that God will never damn a man for allowing himself a little pleasure… I believe he is no atheist, but that rather he has formed an odd idea of the goodness of God in his mind; he thinks to be wicked, and to design mischief, is the only thing that God hates… (Gilbert Burnet’s History of My Own Time, in Miller 1985: 96)

The sympathies of the Crown towards Catholicism were anything but an obstacle for Spanish Golden Age drama, fundamentally monarchist and Catholic, to enjoy the approval of the King, the Queen (who had been granted immunity to remain true to her religion) and of many of the men of letters who accompanied the King in these years, given that they too professed the Catholic faith.16 Finally, we cannot overlook the fact that both producers and authors were looking for new formulas that would capture the attention of the public and be 14. Among these works are The Valiant Cid (1662), The Indian Empereur (1668) and An Evening’s Love (1668) (Loftis 1973: 53). 15. Another clear example of the Monarch’s double morality was the indignation he professed when the population did not give up eating meat during Lent. When England was Catholic, fasting was scrupulously observed, which makes this attitude on the part of a Protestant king surprising. What Charles II really wanted was to increase the consumption of fish and so content sailors and fishermen, whose support was essential in case of war (Picard 1997: 150–151). 16. Loftis (1973: 43) cites the case of the King’s personal interpreter, Sir Henry Bennet, who after being discovered together with the King in a Catholic Church, decided to postpone his return to England for fear of possible reprisals.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

able to compete with the restaging of Elizabethan and Jacobean plays. We have already mentioned that during the exile of Charles II, which coincided with the period of the greatest flourishing of French literature, he was accompanied by poets and academics who showed a keen interest in the playwrights of a country, France, in which all things Spanish — theatre included — were the height of fashion. When they returned home, these courtiers embraced their native Renaissance literature, but their tastes were now more cosmopolitan and Spanish drama was also among their preferences. In this state of affairs, it is little surprise that the first new theatre form that arose after the Restoration was “an Anglicized version of the cloak-and-dagger plays, some of which were free translations or adaptations of the comedies known both in the seventeenth and twentieth centuries as Spanish plots” (Loftis 1999: 110; the translation is mine). The remarkable success achieved by the first comedy translated, The Adventures of Five Hours, unquestionably contributed to the fact that both translators and playwrights turned to the Spanish theatre of the Siglo de Oro, either to adapt the original works or to take characters and situations that they might accommodate to their own creations and which were doubtless well received by London audiences. In conclusion, despite the obstacles that Spanish theatre might have encountered on its journey towards England, there were at least as many factors facilitating the entry of Spanish comedy, which left its mark in the form of new creations and translations.

part ii

Spanish comedias in English translation (1660–1700)

chapter 3

Translators and translations As we have pointed out in the Introduction, it is essential that any descriptive analysis should count on a closed corpus that allows coherent conclusions to be drawn; hence the need to establish the bases to determine which translations of Spanish works should be studied and who the translators of these works were. Our corpus is: The Adventures of Five Hours, translation by Samuel Tuke; Elvira, or the Worst not Always True, translation by George Digby; Tarugo’s Wiles, or the CoffeeHouse, translation by Sir Thomas Sydserf; An Evening’s Love, or the Mock Astrologer, translation by John Dryden; and Sir Courtly Nice, or It Cannot Be, translation by John Crowne. We can now proceed to a more detailed analysis of this transfer, starting with a comparative study of plots, characters and titles, and continuing with an analysis of the external structure of original and target texts, without ignoring extralinguistic features and how these might have affected the final version of the translations. We shall also focus on how proper nouns and cultural elements have been transferred to the destination language as well as the typical Golden Age drama themes: love, honour and, of course, humour of all kinds (stage and textual). 3.1 The trouble with the sources The influence of the theatre of the Siglo de Oro on English dramatic works of the seventeenth century has been analysed sporadically, and with greater or lesser rigour, over the last hundred years. Nonetheless, its study has not achieved the same prominence as that dedicated to the presence of French theatre in the British Isles, perhaps because it is easier to detail the debt of playwrights of the Restoration to Corneille, Racine, Scarron, etc., than that they owe to Spanish authors, whose works were –and are– less well known in England and less accessible. Indeed, it was not until 1917 that the first serious work appeared on the influence of Spanish drama on Restoration comedy — a study by Allison Gaw who repeated several of the errors of historians down the generations. The lack of a specialised bibliography has initially supposed an obstacle when selecting comedies for this study, to which is added the difficulty of discerning, on the one hand, which English works have their source in a Spanish drama or have taken themes from novels and stories,



Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

and on the other, which were tackled directly by the translator-adaptors, or, instead, arrived in London after passing through other hands, in most cases French. In many cases no distinction is made between translations from a Spanish original and those which have recourse to a French text as intermediary, apart from a number of products that simply try to “imitate” the Spanish style that was triumphant at that moment and which complicate the search, fruitless in the majority of cases, for reliable sources. I shall attempt to summarise the most significant conclusions extracted from a series of authors who, although starting from a literary or comparative perspective rather than one of translation, have analysed in depth the presence of the comedia in the period of the Restoration. This means leaving to one side the work of those researchers who have treated the subject in a more superficial manner (M. Hume 1905) or have limited themselves to compiling strictly bibliographical data (Pane 1944, Summers 1970), as well as those whose contribution is collected in subsequent works (Nicoll 1965), in order to make a chronological journey that will dwell most of all on the studies of Patricia M. Seward (1972), John Loftis (1973 and 1999), Richard D. Hume (1976) and Tarantino Hogan (1995), all of whom (in whole or in part) centred their attention on the presence of Spanish drama in the British Isles in the seventeenth century. English works will be dealt with here that are translation-adaptations of, or include borrowings from, Spanish literature, always assuming their source is a Spanish play. Dramatic texts deriving from other genres will not be considered. Unless otherwise indicated, the dates accompanying the English titles refer to the year in which these were first performed. Patricia M. Seward (1972) cites 244 plays of which forty — she affirms — in some way or other show a Spanish influence. After studying these, however, she concludes that only ten borrow from Spanish theatre. On the basis of this brief corpus, she makes a two-fold classification into those pieces she terms adaptations of Spanish works and others that present elements perhaps inspired in a Spanish original. Finally, Seward includes two works which we know existed, but which have unfortunately been lost: Worse and Worse and ‘Tis Better than It Was, translations by George Digby from two works of Calderón: Peor está que estaba and Mejor está que estaba, respectively. The division between the works that Seward considers adaptations and those that only present influences is set out in Table 2. Seward argues that the influence of Calderón on Dryden is almost imperceptible: while in The Indian Emperour Dryden follows the line of his immediately previous work — The Indian Queen — with certain borrowings from El príncipe constante, in the case of The Assignation he strays so far from the Spanish original that it is difficult to detect any trace of Calderón. The mark of the Spanish author is more evident in the two pieces composed by Wycherley, Love in a Wood (1671) and The Gentleman Dancing-Master (1672), in which the English author “owes both



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

Table 2.  Adaptations of and borrowings from Spanish dramatic works during the Restoration period according to Patricia M. Seward (1972) English work

Adaptation of

The Adventures of Five Hours (Samuel Tuke, 1663) Elvira, or the Worst Not Always True (George Digby, 1664). The Indian Emperour (John Dryden, 1665) Tarugo’s Wiles (Sydserf, 1667) Love in a Wood (Wycherley, 1671) The Gentleman DancingMaster (Wycherley, 1672) The Assignation (John Dryden, 1672) The Counterfeits (Learned, 1679) The Young King (Aphra Behn, 1679) Sir Courtly Nice (John Crowne, 1685)

Los empeños de seis horas (Antonio Coello) No siempre lo peor es cierto (Calderón)

Borrowings from

El príncipe constante (Calderón de la Barca) No puede ser el guardar una mujer (A. Moreto) Mañanas de abril y mayo (Calderón de la Barca) El maestro de danzar (Calderón de la Barca) Con quien vengo vengo (Calderón de la Barca) La ocasión hace al ladrón (Juan de Matos Fragoso)

No puede ser el guardar una mujer (A. Moreto)

La vida es sueño (Calderón de la Barca) El lindo don Diego (Agustín Moreto)

a particular debt to Calderón and a general debt to the comedia de capa y espada as a whole” (Seward 1972: 100). One would, however, appreciate some explanation to support Seward’s decision to term the first of these an adaptation, especially when, after a global study of the work by Wycherley, she concludes that Spanish theatre hardly affected the English author: “Next to nothing of the essential Wycherley can be attributed, even indirectly, to his contact with the Spanish theatre” (ibid.: 101). Seward remarks only that, although a considerable part of the action of Love in a Wood is based on the Spanish work, and it even adapts the majority of the dialogues, the result is a completely new work that bears little resemblance to the original (which would not distinguish it very much from The Gentleman Dancing-Master, a play that, although it borrows less material from Calderón, owes much to the format of the cloak and dagger plays). Something similar occurs with Learned’s The Counterfeits, to which she devotes barely eight lines without providing any argument that justifies her decision to include it among what she terms “direct adaptations”: “A straight-forward adaptation in the style of those made by Tuke and Digby



Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

where advantage is drawn from the special attractiveness of an exotic setting, of Spanish characters, acting and intrigue” (ibid.: 117). As for The Young King, Seward affirms that a small part of the action has been taken from Calderón’s play, to conclude that neither in this case, nor in that of the outstanding dramatists of the moment — Wycherley and Dryden — , can Spanish theatre be said to have affected their production in general nor their style as writers in particular. The corpus that Seward defines as “adaptations” receives more attention (with the exception of Elvira, or…, although it is included unquestioningly in the group): she does not doubt the Spanish origin of The Adventures…, which Tuke’s play, she concludes, imitates in both form and content, at the same time capturing in good measure the spirit of the original comedy. Sydserf ’s Tarugo’s Wiles, though following a similar line, differs in that rather than remaining faithful to the original, it absorbs the original source and adapts it to the English tradition. Finally, the author turns her attention to Sir Courtly Nice, a work that, while it differs slightly from the style of its predecessors and adopts a more personal tone, offers no doubts as to the text from which it was extracted. Seward concludes, therefore, that the percentage of adaptations with respect to the dramatic production of the Restoration as a whole is practically insignificant. The influence of cloak and dagger comedies is appreciable: though not decisive in the development of the English theatre of the time, it impregnated the creations of many of the great authors of the period, perhaps influenced by the success of the first performance of The Adventures of Five Hours in 1663. One of the comedies in our study, An Evening’s Love, or the Mock Astrologer (John Dryden), which Seward considers a translation of a French work (Feint Astrologue, by Thomas Corneille), in turn based on a Spanish original, falls outside this list. Loftis, too, in his principal work on this subject (1973), refers to a French theatrical work between Calderón’s and that of Dryden, although he concludes that even so An Evening’s Love conserves much of the original — despite the difficulty of determining its immediate sources, it derives from El astrólogo fingido of Calderón.1 He is more categorical when he defines The Adventures… as a translation and adaptation of the work of Coello, besides regarding it as “the truest and most successful naturalisation of this Spanish form into English” (1973: 75). Loftis also considers ‘Tis Better than It Was and Worse and Worse adaptations, together with Elvira, or…, which, in turn, he compares with The Adventures…, concluding that they are both “free translations” (ibid.: 80), a definition that, to say the least, causes certain confusion regarding the terminology employed by this scholar. To this list are added Tarugo’s Wiles which, although it does not follow the Spanish original as 1. As we shall see later, there is no definite proof that Dryden used the Spanish original directly. Loftis also points to Davenant’s work The Man’s the Master as an adaptation of a Spanish play through another French one, although at no time does he mention the Spanish original (1973: 66).



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

faithfully as do The Adventures… and Elvira, or…, “paraphrases” the piece by Moreto (ibid.: 90), and, finally, Sir Courtly Nice, a work closer to the comedy of manners that was triumphing at the time in England and which Loftis terms a “reworking” (ibid.: 254). This scholar also appreciates “Spanish materials” in Dryden and in Wycherley: both resort to Spanish literature in search of material, Dryden turning to the exemplary novel Las dos doncellas to create The Rival Ladies, while Wycherley includes in his first two comedies borrowings from Calderón (ibid.: 51), with whom he might have become familiar on a visit he probably made to Spain. Aphra Behn, too, seems to have used La vida es sueño when she wrote The Young King, although this might have been through the medium of a French or Dutch version (ibid.: 252). The analysis of Loftis is without doubt the most extensive and detailed of all those quoted here, although the vagueness of his terminology when referring to Spanish works in England makes it more complicated to establish a sharply defined division between what are clearly adaptations and what are not, though ultimately inspired in Spanish comedias. Table 3 (below) is an attempt to distinguish more clearly these two concepts, in accordance with the conclusions of Loftis: In The Development of English: Drama in the Late Seventeenth Century (1976), R. D. Hume shows his awareness both of the problems involved in attempting to classify the whole of the dramatic output of the period into genres, and of the singularities of the London theatre at the end of the seventeenth century, a period when playwrights had to respond to the demands of their audiences to ensure commercial success and in which “the casual adaptations, translations and pure plagiarism” (1976: 29–30) proliferated. Although Hume does not specifically focus on the influence of Spain on English literature, but rather on the different types of dramatic works performed in England at the end of the century, he affirms that The Adventures… “is heavily reliant on the Spanish source” (ibid.: 73) and describes the work as a “Spanish romance”, a term that he also uses to refer to Tarugo’s Wiles and to Sir Courtly Nice. These two titles, he concludes, are adaptations of the same original. In the case of An Evening’s Love, Hume considers that Dryden simply followed the “Spanish plot” and tried to imitate “the lightened Spanish-style intrigue romances” (ibid.: 270). The concept of imitation also appears when he speaks of The Rival Ladies, Elvira, or… and the now lost ‘Tis Better than It Was and Worse and Worse; the last three, however, are defined as adaptations of pieces by Calderón, while he omits the source of The Rival Ladies.2 Table 4 classifies the pieces mentioned into adaptations and imitations in accordance with the criterion adopted by Hume; it should be noted that he pays hardly any attention to these latter, and does not even reveal the possible original texts (cases marked with the symbol “?”). 2. R. D. Hume refers us to the study of Allison Gaw (1917) for more extensive information regarding possible influences on Dryden’s work.



Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Table 3.  Adaptations of and borrowings from Spanish dramatic works during the Restoration period according to John Loftis (1973) English work

Adaptation of

The Adventures of Five Hours (Samuel Tuke, 1663) Elvira, or the Worst Not Always True (George Digby, 1664). The Carnival (Thomas Porter, 1664) Tarugo’s Wiles (Sydserf, 1667) An Evening’s Love, or the Mock Astrologer (John Dryden, 1668) Love in a Wood (Wycherley, 1671) The Gentleman DancingMaster (Wycherley, 1672) The Assignation (John Dryden, 1672) The Young King (Aphra Behn, 1679) Sir Courtly Nice (John Crowne, 1685)

Los empeños de seis horas (Antonio Coello) No siempre lo peor es cierto (Calderón)

Borrowings from

(source not defined) No puede ser el guardar una mujer (A. Moreto) El astrólogo fingido (Calderón de la Barca) Mañanas de abril y mayo (Calderón de la Barca) El maestro de danzar (Calderón de la Barca) Con quien vengo vengo (Calderón de la Barca) La vida es sueño (Calderón de la Barca) No puede ser el guardar una mujer (A. Moreto)

Table 4.  Adaptations and imitations of Spanish dramatic works during the Restoration period according to R. D. Hume (1976) English work

Adaptation of…

The Adventures of Five Hours (Samuel Tuke, 1663) Elvira, or the Worst Not Always True (George Digby, 1664). The Rival Ladies (John Dryden, 1664) Tarugo’s Wiles (Sydserf, 1667) An Evening’s Love, or the Mock Astrologer (Dryden, 1668) Sir Courtly Nice (John Crowne, 1685)

Los empeños de seis horas (Antonio Coello) No siempre lo peor es cierto (Calderón)

In imitation of…

? No puede ser el guardar una mujer (A. Moreto) ? No puede ser el guardar una mujer (A. Moreto)



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

Floriana Tarantino (1995) carried out a profound study of the presence of Spanish literature in English seventeenth-century theatre, without ignoring possible French translations that might have reached the British Isles. After an analysis of English works included in what she terms “Spanish comedy of intrigue”, she subdivides them into adaptations as such and plays that are either inspired in Spanish sources or present scenes identical or similar to ones in the original text. Like Seward and Loftis before her, Tarantino does not overlook Digby’s Worse and Worse and ‘Tis Better than It Was. She also takes the opportunity to refute the mistaken attribution to Spanish sources of two English pieces: The Parson’s Wedding (Thomas Killigrew) and The Wild Gallant (Dryden), traditionally considered by critics to be translations of the comedies by Calderón La dama duende and El galán escarmentado respectively (1995: 15). The following table distinguishes between clear adaptations and those works which, in the opinion of the author, simply reveal influences or borrowings from Spanish originals: Table 5.  Adaptations of and borrowings from Spanish dramatic works during the Restoration period according to Floriana Tarantino (1995) English work

Adaptation of

The Adventures of Five Hours (Samuel Tuke, 1662) Elvira, or the Worst... (George Digby, 1667). The Indian Emperour (John Dryden, 1665) Tarugo’s Wiles (Sydserf, 1668) An Evening’s Love, or… (Dryden, 1668) The Gentleman DancingMaster (Wycherley, 1672) The Assignation (John Dryden, 1673) The Libertine (Thomas Shadwell, 1676) The Young King (Aphra Behn, 1679)

Los empeños de seis horas (Antonio Coello) No siempre lo peor es cierto (Calderón)

Sir Courtly Nice (John Crowne, 1685)

No puede ser el guardar una mujer (A. Moreto)

Borrowings from

[Influences Vega]

of

Lope

de

No puede ser el guardar una mujer (A. Moreto) El astrólogo fingido (Calderón de la Barca) El maestro de danzar Mejor está que estaba (Calderón de la Barca) Con quien vengo vengo (Calderón de la Barca) El burlador de Sevilla (Tirso de Molina) La vida es sueño Mejor está que estaba (Calderón de la Barca)



Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

In her analysis, Tarantino does not pay equal attention to all the works in which the influence of Calderón is beyond doubt. Those which receive most attention are The Adventures of Five Hours, The Assignation, The Mock Astrologer, Elvira or the Worst Not Always True, The Gentleman Dancing-Master and, finally, Sir Courtly Nice. The terms in which Tarantino refers to the process of translation may lead, in some cases, to a certain confusion: thus, she describes The Adventures… as the first comedy to present “definite borrowings or inspiration from the Spanish” (1995:  121), and proceeds to affirm that Tuke copies from the Spanish original even the exits and entrances; she still, however, terms the result “free translation” (ibid.: 123). Despite all this, she never doubts the authenticity of the text of Coello as the original source, just as other scholars of the stature of Schelling, Ward, Mérimée, Hume and Nicoll had maintained before (ibid.: 121). Elvira, or… and Sir Courtly Nice are considered obvious adaptations, which is not the case with The Assignation and The Gentleman Dancing-Master: according to Tarantino, the first of these owes to its source a great part of its plot and the list of characters as well as some fragments that faithfully follow the original; in Wycherley’s piece — even though in this case the author comes closer to the source than he does with other work by the writer in the same genre — the end result distances itself from Calderón both in content and in form, and in no way matches the genius of the Spanish playwright (ibid.: 154–5). Evening’s Love is a special case, as the existence of two sources (the Spanish original and a French translation) makes it difficult to determine which had the most influence in the process of translation. Although the remainder of the works included in Table 5 do not receive such detailed attention, Tarantino does not miss the opportunity to cite their possible Spanish sources, and mentions the authorities that catalogue these works as comedy of intrigue in a lengthy appendix at the end of her book (pp. 437–464). Finally, I have decided to include in this section a brief article also published by John Loftis, which dates from 1999 and is one of the latest contributions to the bibliography on the translation of Spanish comedias in England. Although it does not tackle the subject in depth, this article is of interest precisely because its brevity forces the author to specify which works “inspired” by Spanish comedy are, in his view, the most representative of the seventeenth century. The total number is just seven. Of these, only one, The Adventures of Five Hours, is considered a “free translation” (1999:  111). Regarding the works by Dryden, The Rival Ladies, An Evening’s Love and The Assignation, Loftis describes the first two as “aproximaciones a la trama española” (ibid.: 112), although in the case of An Evening’s Love he acknowledges the work of Calderón El astrólogo fingido as an unarguable source. Similarly, he considers that The Assignation has important inspirations in Calderón, although he recognises that both the location and the characters move away from the Spanish plots. This inspiration is also found in Wycherley’s Love in a



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

Table 6.  Adaptations of and borrowing from Spanish dramatic works during the Restoration period according to John Loftis (1999) English work

Translation of…

The Adventures of Five Hours (Samuel Tuke, 1663) The Rival Ladies (John Dryden) An Evening’s Love, or the Mock Astrologer (John Dryden, 1668) Love in a Wood (Wycherley, 1671) The Assignation (John Dryden, 1672) The Libertine (Thomas Shadwell, 1675) The Young King (Aphra Behn, 1679)

Los empeños de seis horas (Antonio Coello)

Influences of…

? (Calderón de la Barca) El astrólogo fingido (Calderón de la Barca) ? (Calderón de la Barca) ? (Calderón de la Barca) El burlador de Sevilla (Tirso de Molina) La vida es sueño (Calderón de la Barca)

Wood. Finally, Loftis signals out two of the most important pieces of the Siglo de Oro as indirect contributions to two English works: El burlador de Sevilla (Tirso de Molina), which was the basis for The Libertine, a tragedy by Shadwell, and La vida es sueño, which Aphra Behn used for the secondary plot of The Young King. Again, the lack of terminological rigour with which Loftis refers to the transfer of an original work to a translated one means that we have to speak of “translations” on the one hand, and of works “inspired by”, “with contributions from” or “approximations to”, on the other; this second group is represented in Table 6 under the general heading “influences of ”: Table 7 collects the contributions made by the four scholars analysed here in five different publications and gives a total of 16 English plays whose sources — also dramatic — are clearly Spanish. Mention is made, on the one hand, of the English dramatic works, and on the other of the Spanish source texts according to the opinions expressed by Seward, Loftis, Hume and Tarantino. A clear contrast is immediately visible between the titles shaded in grey and those that are not. To the first group belong those English works that, in the opinion of the four authors referred to, have their corresponding Spanish works described as “adaptations”, while the second contains all those that the scholars consider to be imitations of Spanish works, or to present influences or borrowings from them. There is thus almost total consensus in describing as adaptations the following English plays: The Adventures of Five Hours; Elvira, or the Worst Not

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Table 7.  English comedies and their Spanish dramatic sources (1660–1700) Y.

ENGLISH WORKS SEWARD 1972

LOFTIS 1973

HUME, R.D. 1976

TARANTINO 1995

LOFTIS 1999

Los empeños…

Los empeños…

Los empeños…

The Adventures of Five Hours

Los empeños…

Los empeños…

1664

The Rival Ladies

---*

---*

?*

---*

?

1664

Elvira, or the Worst Not...

No siempre…

No siempre…

No siempre…

No siempre…

---

---

---

---

Peor está que…

Peor está que…

---

Mejor está que…

Mejor está que…

---

---

[Lope de Vega]

---

No puede ser el…

No puede ser el…

No puede ser el…

---

El astrólogo...

El astrólogo?

El astrólogo...

El astrólogo

---

---

?

---

Mejor está que estaba/ El maestro de danzar

---

---

Con quien vengo vengo

? (Calderón)

1

1663

2 3 4

1664

The Carnival

---

?

5

1664

Worse and Worse

Peor está que…

Peor está que…

6

1665 ‘Tis Better than It Was Mejor está que…

Mejor está que…

7

1665 The Indian Emperour El príncipe consta.

8

1667

Tarugo’s Wiles

No puede ser el…

9

1668

An Evening’s Love

---

10

1671

Love in a Wood

11

1672

The Gentleman Dancing-Master

12

1672

The Assignation

13

1676

The Libertine

---

---

---

14

1679

The Counterfeits

La ocasión hace al ladrón

---

---

---

---

15

1679

The Young King

La vida es sueño

La vida es sueño

---

La vida es… / Mejor está que estaba

La vida es sueño

16

1685

Sir Courtly Nice

No puede ser…**

No puede ser…

No puede ser…

No puede ser…

---

Mañanas de Mañanas de abril y mayo abril y mayo El maestro de danzar

El maestro de danzar

Con quien Con quien vengo vengo vengo vengo

El burlador de El burlador Sevilla de Sevilla

* Seward points out that this work stems from an attempt by Dryden to match the success achieved by Tuke in his Adventures…, but that its source is not a play, but one of the Novelas ejemplares of Cervantes: Las dos doncellas (1972: 99). Loftis points to the same source. Hume described it as an imitation, but without indicating the source. Tarantino (1995: 30) affirms that, despite the similarity with the comedia style, it is not based on a Spanish work. ** Also influences of El lindo don Diego. ? Source text uncertain --- Source text not mentioned



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

Always True; Worse and Worse; ‘Tis Better than It Was; Tarugo’s Wiles and Sir Courtly Nice. Given that Worse and Worse and ‘Tis Better than It Was are lost, the result is a total of four plays that may clearly be considered adaptations. Love in a Wood and The Counterfeits are thus excluded: although they are described as adaptations by Seward, no convincing argument is given by the author for them to be so considered, and we have therefore decided not to take them into consideration in this study. Furthermore, An Evening’s Love; or the Mock Astrologer, one of the works included in our own corpus, is in no case catalogued as “adaptation”. However, noone is in doubt as to the Calderonian source that served as the text of origin: John Dryden, in his Prologue to the edition of 1671, makes it clear that his comedy is not an original piece, but is based on the Spanish comedy El astrólogo fingido, also translated into French by Corneille: “It was first Spanish, and called El astrologo fingido; then made French by the younger Corneille; and is now translated into English, and in print, under the name of the Feigned Astrologer”. He informs us, however, that his translation is anything but a faithful one: When I had finished my play, it was like the hulk of Sir Francis Drake, so strangely altered that there scarcely remained any plank of the timber which first built it […] You will see that I have rejected some adventures which I judged were not divertising; that I have heightened those which I have chosen, and that I have added others which were neither in the French nor Spanish.

If we accept as true the translator’s words on the authenticity of his model, there appears no reason to exclude Dryden’s work from our corpus. Nor would his peculiar concept of translation, which leads him to add and suppress scenes at will, be sufficient motive, as it is still consistent with his vision of the ideal translation. Some authors (Loftis 1973: 109–110; Oppenheimer 1948: 547–560) consider, despite this, that in the process of creating An Evening’s Love, Dryden also turned to Molière and to a prose translation of El astrólogo... carried out by Mlle. de Scudéry (and published in the second book of the second part of Ibrahim ou l’illustre Bassa) to which Dryden himself alludes in the prologue, and which is translated into English in 1652 by Henry Cogan. There also existed a comedy entitled Jodelet astrologue (1646), a translation of the Spanish original into French by Antoine Le Métel d’Ouville and which might have been known to Dryden. Finally, in 1668 an anonymous translation of Le Feint Astrologue by Corneille was published under the title The Feign’d Astrologer, in which the translator changes the location from Madrid to London and anglicises the names of the characters, although without straying too much from his French original. Loftis (1973: 112) alludes to the study of an Italian critic, Salvatore Fiorino, in which an attempt is made to prove that Dryden worked directly from the work of Calderón, an assertion that Loftis himself

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

does not wholly share. Nor does Oppenheimer (1948:  557–558) believe that Dryden, even if he knew of the Spanish original, used it directly. Although he has no conclusive proof to demonstrate it, Oppenheimer mentions certain indicators, such as the translator’s use of Spanish words that do not coincide with the original, or the presence of parts clearly taken from the French versions. Ángel Capellán, for his part, attempts to demonstrate (1975: 572–589) that Dryden utilises both the Spanish text and the French translation by Corneille; thus, presenting fragments that only exist in El astrólogo...and in An Evening’s Love, he proposes to rebut the arguments of all those who maintain that the English translator did not know, or did not use, the comedy by Calderón. It is therefore almost impossible to determine with any exactness the precise sources used by Dryden. There is no doubt, however, that El astrólogo fingido is the original source, and, if we accept the word of its creator, that he used it for his translation. Despite omissions and additions, the resulting work conserves much of the Spanish source. In spite of it being an indirect translation, I believe that there are more than enough reasons not to exclude An Evening’s Love, or the Mock Astrologer as another object of study. Moreover, the importance of Dryden as writer and translator, as well as his relevance as a theorist of translation (not for nothing was he responsible for the first division in England of translation methods), are further motives for us to include this work among the five translations that we shall study as the most representative examples of the Spanish presence in English Restoration theatre, and which I shall now proceed to present: 1. The Adventures of Five Hours (editions of 1663, 1664, 1671, 1704, 1711, 1712, 1744, 1767, 1780, 1810, 1825, 1874, 1917, 1927 and 2003; performances of 1664, 1668–9, 1671, 1704 and 1712). The first performance of The Adventures of Five Hours, by Samuel Tuke, took place on 8  January 1663 in the Duke’s Theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields (London), although it had been planned for 15 December of the previous year. It was an immediate success, and became what we might term the smash box-office hit of the year3 — indeed, it was staged every day for various weeks with a total of thirteen performances — remaining popular until almost the end of the century. Although it has been speculated that authorship might be shared between George Digby (Earl of Bristol) and Sir Samuel Tuke, who would collaborate in the first draft — a theory that is reinforced by the fact that on 20 July 1664 Pepys had heard that the author was the same as that of Worse and Worse — everything goes to suggest that the King proposed the idea to Tuke; this, at least, is 3. In his Diary, Evelyn relates on 8 January 1662 that the work “was acted for some weeks every day, and it was believed it would be worth to the comedians £400 or £500”. No other Restoration play was performed thirteen consecutive times, not even acclaimed works such as The Siege of Rhodes (twelve days), The Villain (ten days) or The Duchess of Malfi (eight days) (Gaw 1917: 11).



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

what the author affirms in the prologue to the third edition (1671): “[The plot] was taken out of Dom Pedro Calderon, a celebrated Spanish Author, the Nation of the World who are the happiest in the force and delicacy of their Inventions, and recommended to me by His Sacred Majesty, as an Excellant Design”.4 It is difficult to determine the place and time that Charles II saw the Spanish play Los empeños de seis horas (Tuke and other authors of the time erroneously attributed it to Calderón, and not to Antonio Coello),5 although he may well have seen it during his four years in the Low Countries, either on the stage or in a printed edition. There is abundant testimony to the work’s success, including that of Samuel Pepys, who wrote of the expectation its performance aroused in London, and referred to it in his Diary on no fewer than six occasions. Thus, in the entry corresponding to 8 January 1662, he affirms: … and there being the famous new play acted the first time today, which is called The Adventures of Five Hours at the Duke’s House, being they say, made or translated by Colonel Tuke, I did long to see it… And the play, in one word, is the best, for the variety and most excellent continuance of the plot to the very end, that I ever saw, or think ever shall, and all possible, not only to be done in the time, but in the most other respects very admittable and without one word of ribaldry, and the house, by its frequent plaudits, did show their sufficient approbation. (in Shaw 2000: 62)

Pepys liked Tuke’s play so much that he returned to the theatre nine days later, and by the end of April he had managed to get a copy of it for himself. This first edition (which was followed by a second the next year) appeared three months after the work was first performed. But it would not be until the third edition (1671) that the name of the translator appeared on the first pages: “Revised and corrected by the author, Sir Samuel Tuke, Knight and Baronet”. The continued public and private performances of the play doubtless fanned public enthusiasm, which in turn accelerated the rapid appearance of new editions. Pepys even qualified Shakespeare’s Othello as “mediocre” in comparison to Tuke’s creation; thus, on 20 August 1665 he 4. Only two days after the first performance, rumours were circulating that Tuke was not the author of the play, or at least not the only one. It is a fact that the name of the translator does not appear in the first edition of the work. Some scholars have suggested the possibility that the Earl of Bristol might have carried out a first literal translation of the Spanish comedy that would have served as the starting point for Tuke’s creation (Hopkins 2003: 18–19). 5. Los empeños de seis horas, o lo que pasa en una noche, was performed in the Montería of Seville by the company of Manuel Vallejo in 1642 (Urzáiz 2002a: 263). This false attribution to Calderón may be due to the fact that Coello was a writer given to literary collaboration, which led him to write comedias together with the best playwrights of the period, among whom was Calderón. This title is also attributed to Calderón in Part 8 of his comedias (Madrid, 1657), although he himself denied authorship (ibid.).

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

writes in his diary: “To Deptford by water, reading Othello, Moor of Venice, which I ever heretofore esteemed a mighty good play; but having so lately read The Adventures of Five Hours, it seems a mean thing”. Pepys went back to see the work in successive performances, and confirmed that each time the theatre was packed. We do not know who exactly was responsible for the success of The Adventures…. Perhaps the expectation aroused was due to the fact that the translator was well known in Court circles and that the play was personally recommended by the King. The fame of Calderón, to whom the Spanish work was attributed, may also have had an influence, or possibly the plots and characters of the Spanish court proved attractive to an audience eager for new sensations. Hopkins (2003: 4–5) indicates two reasons that might explain the excellent welcome the work enjoyed: on the one hand, rehearsals had begun at least a fortnight before the first performance, something very rare at the time; on the other, the testimony of several writers who refer to a performance before the King on 15 December, almost a month before it was presented at the Duke’s Theatre, might have created unusual excitement. Whatever the case, it is certain that The Adventures… was the greatest theatrical success of the years immediately following the Restoration, and was the forerunner of a whole series of English play based on Spanish comedies. 2. Elvira, or The Worst Not Always True (published in 1667, 1744, 1780, 1810, 1827 and 1876) was first performed in November 1664 in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. George Digby, its author, came from an illustrious Hispanophile family: his father, Sir John Digby, had been English Ambassador in Madrid, the city where his son was born. He not only spoke Spanish perfectly, but was also a lover of literature and the arts. This comes evident from his magnificent library, which contained nine collections of plays, most published in Madrid in the decade of the fifties. Among them figured works by Rojas Zorrilla, Moreto, Matos Fragoso, and, of course, the Obras Completas, in three volumes, of Calderón de la Barca (Shaw 2000: 130). Most likely it was from here that the three cloak and dagger plays he translated came: Elvira, or the Worst Not Always True, a translation of No siempre lo peor es cierto; ‘Tis Better than It Was, based on Mejor está que estaba and Worse and Worse, based on Peor está que estaba.6 Although, as has already been said, we do not have these last two translations, we know of their performance: ’Tis Better… was first staged at the Duke’s Theatre between 1662 and 1665; Worse and Worse was performed not only at the Duke’s Theatre, where Pepys saw it in July 1664, defining it as “very entertaining”, but also at Court in November 1666 (Shaw 6. We do not know if Digby attended the performance of any of these plays in Spain. There is record of only one palace staging of No siempre lo peor es cierto and of Mejor está que estaba and in both cases these were quite late (1682 the first work and 1686 the second). Peor está que estaba is said to have been staged first by José de Salazar (Urzáiz 2002a: 191–193).



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

2000: 131). Peor está que estaba is the play that seems to have inspired most adaptations in the seventeenth century, since it served as the basis not only for Worse and Worse, but also for a work by Aphra Behn and for a suggestion made by Charles II to Tom d’Urfey which led to The Banditti (1686). In the prologue to the latter, the author observes that “the distress of the Story was hinted to me by the Late Blessed King of ever-glorious Memory, from a Spanish Translation” (Loftis 1996: 7). Elvira, or… (and supposedly its other two translations) is stylistically inferior to Calderon’s original. Although it is true that Digby follows the narrative line of the Spanish source quite closely, he alters the order of the scenes, possibly with the intention of improving upon the source text, though the result is just the opposite. Despite the fact that we have no eyewitness accounts (as we had for The Adventures…) that testify to the popularity of these English translations of Calderon’s comedies, they obviously helped in the consolidation of the “Spanish plot” in the following years, and probably exercised a positive influence on other dramatic compositions for decades. 3. Tarugo’s Wiles, or, the Coffee-House. The translation of Sir Thomas Sydserf, of which we have only one edition, dated 1668, was performed in October 1667 in Lincoln’s Inn Fields by the Company of the Duke of York. Pepys mentions the performance of 5 October 1667. Not only was this popular in the first years of the Restoration, but it contributed, together with The Adventures of Five Hours, to the success of Spanish drama between 1660 and 1700 (Nicoll 1965: 220). The source text for this piece, Moreto’s No puede ser el guardar una mujer,7 had its first performance in Madrid in November 1659, appearing in print in the same city two years later (Urzáiz 2002a: 471). Tarugo’s Wiles does not follow the Spanish original as closely as The Adventures… and Elvira, or… did, and it also adopts a different tone. Loftis (1973: 88) suggests that Sydserf may have been influenced by Dryden’s successful Sir Martin Mar-all, to the extent that the similarities of the work with that of Moreto might have quickened the interest of the translator for No puede ser…. The result is a modest work, justly described by Langbaine as “not equal with those of the first Rank”, although it “yet exceeds several which pretend to the second; especially the third Act, which discovers the several Humours of a Coffee-house” (in Loftis 1973: 90). This scene, which takes up the whole of the third act and provides the subtitle of the work, is the best known part of the play but, oddly enough, does not exist in the original Spanish text. 7. Although we know that Sebastián del Prado performed this work before the King, the comedy was also staged in the corrales of Madrid the same month (Lobato 2003: 1183). Moreto, in turn, used the work of Lope de Vega entitled El mayor imposible, from which he extracted the subject, the plot, some of the characters and part of the dialogue.

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

4. An Evening’s Love, or the Mock Astrologer (editions of 1671, 1675, 1691, 1735 and 1762). John Dryden’s An Evening’s Love, or the Mock-Astrologer was first staged in June 1668 at the Theatre Royal in Bridges Street, London, in the presence of the new Queen, the Portuguese Catalina de Braganza8. The work does not seem to have been well received; Pepys called it “very smutty”, an opinion shared by Evelyn, who, in his diary entry for June 19 1668, wrote: “A foolish plot, and very profane; it affected to me to see how the stage was degenerated and polluted by the licentious times”. As we have already remarked, Dryden seems to have used various works for his play, although only two, El astrólogo fingido by Calderón and the French translation of Corneille, Le feint astrologue, were acknowledged by the author, while the rest remain speculative, yielding no firm conclusions. Moreover, as Capellán (1975: 575) points out, it is known that Dryden could read Spanish, was familiar with Spanish theatre, particularly with Calderón, and that he often turned to Spanish comedias when writing his works. However, as Loftis pertinently observed (1973: 109–110), Dryden also used his own dramatic resources as a writer, as is evident in scenes of his own creation that recall earlier works of his; a striking example is the whole of the fifth act, without parallel in the other versions, or his treatment of the figure of the gracioso, which deprives it of much of its comedy. In general, however, plot, scenes and characters faithfully follow Calderon’s original: perhaps the question should be not so much how far Dryden was faithful to the original as what reasons led him to conserve certain parts and improvise others. 5. Sir Courtly Nice, or It Cannot Be (editions of 1685, 1693, 1703, 1731, 1735, 1758, 1765, 1921, 1922 and 1966). The first performance of John Crowne’s play (Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, London) was on May 11 1685, although Summers (1970) gives 4 May as the date, apparently on the basis of a note in a manuscript. On the death of Charles II, Crowne wrote in an epistle dedicated to the Monarch: “The greatest pleasure he [Charles] had from the Stage was in Comedy, and he often Commanded me to Write it, and lately gave me a Spanish Play called No Puedeser: Or, It Cannot Be, out of which I took part o’ the Name, and design o’ This.” (in Loftis 1996: 7). According to Crowne’s contemporary and critic John Dennis, the King commanded the playwright to create a new work, and when Crowne excused himself for his delay in finding a plot, gave him a copy of No puede ser…. Charles II died before the first night, but Sir Courtly Nice was the first play to be performed in the reign of his brother, James II (Shaw 2000:  126). It is a transitional work, combining elements of the previous tradition with tendencies of the new period. In contrast to the creations of the early Restoration, it has a moralising purpose: 8. Calderón’s original Spanish text first appeared in print in Zaragoza in 1633 (Urzáiz 2002a: 181).



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

marriage and a good wife are more to be recommended than affairs and prostitutes. It distances itself, therefore, from the translation Syderf had made of the same comedy years before, of which Crowne had no knowledge.9 Indeed, there is no record of the King recalling a previous adaptation of the Spanish work. The result is one of the most popular comedies of the Restoration, and it was performed and reprinted various times up to the end of the nineteenth century.10 Many accounts of its success exist, such as that of Langbaine in 1691 (in Tarantino 1995: 161): “This play is accounted an excellent comedy, as has been frequently acted with good applause”. It would not be until 1922, however, that the first critical studies saw the light: in this year Montague Summers published a new edition of the work, and two studies appeared, the monograph by Arthur F. White and the bibliography of Crowne’s literary production directed by George Parker Winship. 3.2 Translators and plays There were two periods of theatrical activity, practically equal in duration but different in character, during the eighteen years of Cromwell’s Dictatorship. In the first, Shakespeare, Jonson, Webster, Ford, etc., wrote their best works, but on very few occasions did they turn to the comedia for inspiration; in the second, it is the work of Dryden, Otway, Shadwell, Wycherley and Congreve, among others, that stands out, and in contrast to the Elizabethan playwrights they did turn towards the comedias, either as translators or in search of stories or structures. Most of these playwrights were courtiers who, as in the reign of Elizabeth I, aimed in their works to satisfy the taste and interest of the Monarch, to the point that a significant percentage of the drama of this period was penned by personal friends of the King: “Restoration drama is a courtier’s drama, directed toward the taste and interests of the king and to some extent written by personal friends of the king in response to his suggestions” (Loftis 1973: 30). Poets and scholars such as Thomas Hobbes, Killigrew, Davenant, etc. dedicated a good part of their time to journeys and literature, and their libraries contained numerous Spanish works. Moreover, the writing of plays was not considered as inappropriate as it had been under Queen Elizabeth; nobles were no longer reticent about acknowledging the authorship of their 9. In his Critical Works (in Loftis 1973: 157–158), Dennis claims that Crowne learnt of the existence of Sydserf ’s adaptation when he had already completed the first three acts but finished his work without, apparently, making use of it. 10. Its popularity extended as far as Germany, where a first translation appeared in 1767 with the title Sir Phantast, oder es kann Nicht Seyn, followed by another in 1782: Unmögliche Sache (Bradford Hughes 1996: 20).

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

works, and this led to an increase in the number of works printed, both originals and translations. 3.2.1 The translators Colonel Samuel Tuke (1610–1674) shared the exile of Charles II in France and Flanders, where, as he claimed, he learnt Spanish. In 1657 Queen Henrietta unsuccessfully put his name forward for the post of secretary to the then Duke of York, and around the same time the translator converted to Catholicism. He was not a man of letters, then, but rather a soldier and faithful courtier.11 Indeed, The Adventures of Five Hours was his only contribution to the world of letters, and the comedy’s success was due more to the plot and the fame of the original author rather than to Tuke’s way with words. Not for nothing did his cousin John Evelyn record in his Diary, on January 8 1663 the following: “I went to see my kinsman’s comedy […] Indeed the plot was incomparable but the language stiff and formal”. He would later go back on his initial judgement, however, and speak of it as the “incomparable play”. Tuke decided to retire to a quiet place to do his translation; his friend Henry Howard took him in at his house, in a remote area near Guildford, in Kent, and Tuke dedicated some words of thanks to his friend for the hospitality he had shown him. When his work was done, Tuke returned to Court and never again embarked on any literary activity; the translator thus joins the long list of playwrights/drama translators with only one work to their name: of the list of 123 theatrical authors of the Restoration drawn up by Allardyce Nicoll, at least seventy had only one work, which in many cases had not even been performed. Of all these, only Tuke became famous (Hopkins 2003: 14).12 Among the courtiers who accompanied Charles II in his exile and knew Spanish there were also one who was half Spanish half English, and a Scotsman. The first of these, George Digby (1612–1677), Second Earl of Bristol, was born in Madrid, where his father held the post of English Ambassador. Although he was unpredictable and inconstant, it seems that the genius and eloquence of Digby captivated the King, who had him accompany him on his journey 11. Loftis (1973: 76) confirms that Tuke was not a man of letters and that, although he could presumably read Spanish, he never showed much interest for language or literature. The hypothesis, already alluded to, that in his translation activity he had the collaboration of George Digby, Lord of Bristol, would not therefore seem totally mistaken. 12. Some scholars have expressed their surprise that Tuke wrote only one play. Although his friends encouraged him to compose an original work (as can be seen in the eulogistic verses they wrote for the introductions to the first and second editions), Tuke seems not to have embarked on the task. It is possible, however, that he might have collaborated in the translation of Pompey the Great in 1664 from the original by Corneille, although there is no conclusive proof of this (Swaen 1927: XV).



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

to Spain in 1659. Digby would later serve the King of Spain in Madrid, a city where he lived for several years and where he had the opportunity to get to know Spanish theatre at first hand. Digby is one of the key figures in the introduction of the comedia into England. Apart from his adapting the previously mentioned works of Calderón de la Barca, some scholars also point to a possible collaboration with Tuke in The Adventures…. Digby went back into exile on July 29 1667, and immediately formed part of the King’s inner circle, which might have had something to do with the publication of Elvira, or… (Gaw 1917: 30). Although his interest and participation in the intrigues at the English court did not leave him much time for literary projects, Digby did not stand out in politics, since his Catholic faith made it impossible for him to occupy public office. He was not a professional writer, and does not seem to have been particularly concerned about the fate of his translations, to judge by the scant attention he paid to the printing of the only work of his that was published, Elvira, or…. As Digby was a friend of the King, and prototype of the cultured cavalier, there is no doubt that whatever he wrote, regardless of its quality, would be well received at Court and in the professional theatre of the time. In the 1876 edition of the play, Carew Hazlitt defines Digby as: A singular person, whose life was one contradiction. He wrote against Popery, and enhanced it; he was zealous opposer of the Court, and a sacrifice for it; was conscientously converted in the midst of his prosecution of Lord Strattford, and was most unconscientiously a prosecutor of Lord Clarenton. With great parts, he always hurt himself and his friends; with romantic bravery, he was always an unsuccessful commander. He spoke for the Test Act, though a Roman catholic, and addicted himself to astrology on the birthday of true philosophy. (Hazlitt 1876: s.p.)

His was a life apparently full of contradictions right up until his death, in 1677, when he died “neither loved nor regretted by any party” (Hazlitt 1876: s.p.). The Scot who accompanied the Sovereign was Thomas Sydserf (?-1672), or St. Serfe, as the name appears in the dedication to the work. Son of a bishop, he was, for a time, director of a theatre in Edinburgh. Although many details of his biography are lacking,13 Sydserf was a follower of Charles I and we know of his presence in the Low Countries, where he probably learnt Spanish (Loftis 1973: 87). Like his colleague Tuke, Sydserf was not a professional playwright; indeed, only one theatrical work of his is known, Tarugo’s Wiles, which, as was the case with Digby’s translation, fell far short of the mastery of Moreto.

13. For further bibliographical information about Sydserf, Loftis (1973: 87) refers us to Miscellany of the Abbotsford, I, Edinburgh 1837, pp. 85–95.

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

John Dryden (1631–1700) stands somewhat apart from the rest of the dramatic translators on account of his poetic capacity and the extensiveness of his literary production, which includes theatre, poetry and prose, as well as essays and translations of plays, poems and narrative. His success as a playwright came in 1664 with The Indian Queen, which was followed by a sequel in 1665, The Indian Emperor (a work bearing many similarities to Calderon’s El príncipe constante). During the years 1665 and 1668 he wrote and edited his famous An Essay on Dramatick Poesie, in which he praised French theatre and criticised the Spanish plots that abounded on the London stages of the time (referring, supposedly, to the works of Tuke and Digby): “The French have gained more liberty for verse, in which they write; they [...] represent passions without being hurried from one thing or another, as we are in the plays of Calderón, which we have seen lately upon our theatre” (1668: 26–27). But such criticism did not prevent him following the Spanish fashion himself and in 1668 he premiered An Evening’s Love, or the Mock Astrologer, the action of which takes place in Madrid in 1665. As we have seen, Dryden made it very clear in the prologue to this work what were his sources in its creation; for this reason, he was branded a plagiarist, a charge from which he defended himself in the following words: ´Tis true, that where ever I have lik’d any story in a Romance, Novel, or foreign Play, I have made no difficulty, nor ever shall, to take the foundation of it, to build it up, and to make it proper for the English stage. And I will be so vain to say it has lost nothing in my hands.

This comment goes some way to clarifying Dryden’s conception of intellectual ownership and the literary sources from which he drank; his literary merit, nevertheless, was never placed in doubt: in 1668 he was created Poet Laureate of England, and that same year he became a shareholder in the theatre company of Tomas Killigrew, a link that he decided to break in 1678. His relationship with dramatic literature was a prolific one, with a total of thirty works published. Despite his strict Puritan upbringing, in 1685 he decided to convert to Catholicism. He announced this change in his poem The Hind and the Panther, in which he also took the opportunity to defend the Catholic Church, gaining himself more disapproval than advantage. Dryden apart, these comedy writers were basically amateurs with little experience, and, in any case, lacked the talent of the Spanish playwrights they imitated. However, their translations succeeded in arousing interest at the time, perhaps because they fitted in with English theatrical conventions, perhaps because of the novelty of their knowledge of Spanish comedy (with which they had become acquainted during their exile), although it must not be forgotten, as we have pointed out earlier, that others had already turned to Spanish literature in search of sources.



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

The remaining translator is John Crowne (c.1640-c.1703), the most prolific of the five theatrical writers mentioned, always, of course, with the exception of Dryden. Although his place of birth is a mystery, it is known that in 1665 he was in London, since his first work, Pandion and Amphigenia, saw the light there that year. Many other works followed, for which he did not hesitate to turn to French literature and Spanish prose (Don Quixote, for example) in search of material. Apart from his literary work, it was Crowne’s intention to pursue a career in public life, and he turned to Charles II for support. Once again, we find a translator very close to the Court and ready to satisfy the wishes of the King. Indeed, some of his works were staged at Court and performed by courtiers, as is the case of Calisto, or the Chast Nymph, in 1675. John Dryden, in his condition of Poet Laureate, felt slighted at this, and it was Crowne who became the favourite “poet” of the King. 3.2.2 The plots in source and target texts Los empeños de seis horas and The Adventures of Five Hours The complexity of the line of argument of this work means that its plot merits a detailed description: don César rescues a Spanish lady, Nise, from her Dutch captors and both fall in love in the course of a brief encounter from which the gentleman leaves without knowing the name of his loved one. Unable to find her, he arranges with Don Enrique that he will marry his sister, Porcia. Enrique and Porcia are cousins of Nise and her brother Carlos. Porcia, in turn loves Octavio, and Enrique, Nise. Owing to some confusion, Enrique believes that Nise is secretly seeing Octavio, and determines to attack him with the aid of Don Diego. In the fight, Don Diego dies at the hands of Octavio, who has to go into hiding. These are the events that give rise to a complicated plot in which Enrique loves Nise, Nise, Don César, Don César is going to marry Porcia and Porcia loves Octavio, a fugitive from Justice. Once the identity of Enrique is discovered, Porcia and Nise decide to prevent the marriage at all costs. The confusions begin by accident: Porcia borrows Nise’s shawl and Don César’s servant mistakes Nise for his master’s fiancée. The ladies do nothing to make him aware of his error. In another part of the city, Don César meets his old friend Octavio just when he receives an invitation from Porcia to see her in her garden, and he decides to accompany him. In the garden, Enrique and Carlos attack Octavio and César, who escape taking Porcia with them. Enrique and Carlos discover where they are, and Nise sends Flora, Porcia’s maid, to warn her and Octavio. Meanwhile, don César leaves the two lovers and goes to Enrique’s house, where he finds Nise. His servant informs him that she is his secret lover, and he cannot hide his joy at discovering that she is the same woman whose life he had saved in Flanders. For his part Octavio, warned that don Carlos is on his way to his house, looks for a chaise in which to take Porcia to a safer place. In his

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

absence, César returns, and decides to take her to her residence himself so that, without knowing, he takes her to her own house. When Octavio arrives, various men are waiting to capture him, and he hides in the chaise meant for Porcia. Thinking that she is the person who is seated there, Carlos, Flora and Quatrín, the clown, carry the chaise to the house of the first of these. Porcia, who is unaware that she is in her own house, finds herself face to face with her cousin Nise and her brother Enrique. Fearing that he will kill her for having dishonoured the family, she decides to flee with Nise to Nise’s house. Carlos, meanwhile, arrives at Enrique’s with the news that Porcia is in his (Carlos’s) house, as he mistakenly believes, disconcerting Enrique. On discovering that the murderer of Don Diego is in the house of Carlos, he and Enrique head there to restore his honour, not without first informing don César of their decision. In the house of Don Carlos, Porcia, Nise and Quatrín hide in an adjoining room while Octavio faces his destiny. But César recognises Octavio, and faces the dilemma of whether to help his friend or ingratiate himself with his future in-laws. When Octavio mentions he is in love with Porcia, César’s betrothed, César immediately closes the door on him, leaving Enrique and Carlos alone outside to face the lover of his future wife. To avoid the death of Octavio, Porcia opens the door to Enrique and Carlos. César now sides with Octavio, even when they insist that Octavio must marry Nise to restore her honour. Porcia and Nise intervene, and César discovers that the person he imagined to be Porcia is in fact Nise, and that Octavio had been courting Porcia. Finally, the weddings are prepared. In his translation, Tuke follows the original reasonably faithfully, even respecting the entrances and exits. At the beginning of the first act, in both the Spanish and English version, the two women vie in expressing their misfortunes: the first loves a man she hardly knows, as she has only seen him once, when he saved her life; the second is in love with the man who, in self defence, has killed the friend of her brother, who is therefore determined to marry his sister, against her will, to a man who is a stranger to her (but who turns out to be the man her friend is in love with). The work proceeds swiftly thanks to a series of adventures and confusions complicated by the strict sense of family honour of the brothers, guardians of the family’s honour and willing to unsheathe their swords to defend it. However, Tuke introduces some of his own material, such as the preliminary dialogue between Henrique and Carlos, the scene describing the customs of the Dutch or that at the beginning of the fifth act in which a woman uses her breath to light a candle. He also introduces passages narrating the vicissitudes of the loves of the servants, following the Spanish model by using a clown. The end product is a cloak and dagger comedy, although adjusted to the expectations of an English audience. Tuke handles the subject of honour with respect and severity, without ignoring the vicissitudes of love, and all this is exemplified in



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

the English work in the character of Don Antonio, a man of irreproachable conduct, who lives torn between his love for Camilla (the Spanish Nise) and his promise of marriage to Porcia. No siempre lo peor es cierto and Elvira, or The Worst Not Always True No siempre… is a cloak and dagger comedy imbued with the aristocratic sensibility of the time, in which the emphasis is placed on exemplary conduct: of the four gentlemen who take part, three lead irreproachable lives, while the fourth one, Don Diego, personifies social disorder. There are also two types of servant, whose behaviour faithfully reflects that of their masters. Don Carlos and Leonor arrive in Valencia from Madrid; Don Carlos is attempting to protect the honour of the lady, and sends his servant, Fabio, to the house of his cousin, Don Juan, to ask him for help and to tell him his woes: one night, while waiting to pay court to Leonor, he found a masked man in the room, whom he fought and left for dead. This was none other than Diego Centellas, on a visit to the Court and in love with the Valencian girl, Beatriz, the sister of Don Juan. While Don Carlos prepares to go to Italy, Leonor enters into service with Beatriz under the false name of Isabel. The next day, Don Pedro de Lara arrives in the city in search of his daughter to force her to marry Don Diego and so restore her honour. Don Diego determines to court Beatriz, but is discovered by Don Juan and they fight. Don Diego, who had accidentally come across Leonor in one of the rooms, justifies himself by saying that it was she that he had come to see. In the confusion of the fight, Beatriz orders Inés to put out the lights, and, in the darkness, Don Diego flees. Don Carlos and Don Juan are of the opinion that the only way to save Leonor’s honour is to marry her to Don Diego, and decide to use Beatriz as a go-between. She explains the plan to Don Diego. Don Carlos, hiding in the adjoining room, overhears how Leonor has always despised Don Diego, and is finally convinced of the innocence of his betrothed. The work ends, therefore, in two marriages: Don Carlos to Leonor, Don Diego to Beatriz. The action in this comedy runs in parallel between Carlos and Diego. It is interesting that both plots refer to the subject of honour, and the incidents that take place in each serve to demonstrate the thesis already set out in the title: events occur that lead us to expect the worst, but this never happens. These situations, of which there are more than ten in the comedy, crystallise the metaphor and the truth will finally emerge to the relief and satisfaction of all. The argument of Elvira, or… is practically identical, with the exception of slight changes to some scenes and the omission of three of them in the first act. Digby also alters the order of some of the scenes, disturbing the dramatic continuity of his work. Furthermore, Digby not only changes Leonor’s name, but he also

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

modifies her personality and Elvira is less extreme than her Spanish counterpart. Something similar occurs with the character of the clown: the Spanish Ginés never forgets his position as a servant, and although he may appear cleverer than his master, he always maintains a relationship of respect. In the English work, Chichon is much more forward and outspoken, and this robs him of a good part of the appeal found in Ginés. It seems that Digby has been unable to retain either the characterisation or the rhythm of the original, even though he locates his translation in Valencia and enriches his sets with blossoming orange trees and a Mediterranean atmosphere. El astrólogo fingido and An Evening’s Love, or the Mock Astrologer María de Ayala has two suitors: Don Juan de Medrano and Don Diego. The first, who is also courting Violante, pretends to be going to fight in Flanders in order to hide in the house of his friend Don Carlos de Toledo (who, in turn, is in love with Violante), and so be able to visit Doña María every night. Beatriz, Doña María’s maid, is unable to keep the secret, and tells Morón, the servant of Don Diego, what is going on. Morón informs his master, who tells his friend, Don Antonio, and he, in turn, confirms the story with Don Carlos. Aware that his beloved is seeing another man, Don Diego informs María, who is angry with Beatriz for being so indiscrete. To save the maid from this situation, Morón makes up a story that his master knew what was happening thanks to his condition as a famous astrologer. To make things more credible, Morón and Don Antonio go round Madrid announcing the powers of Don Diego. The rumour comes to the ears of Leonardo, the father of María, and of Violante; both decide to go and see him: the first because of his interest in astrology; the second to get Don Juan to return from his presumed journey. Knowing the true destination of Don Juan, Diego promises Violante that her lover will soon appear in her house. At the same time, Don Juan receives a jewel from María as a token of her love. She lies to her father, saying that she has lost it, and Leonardo decides to seek the help of the astrologer to determine its whereabouts. Thanks to the help of the servants, Don Diego confirms that Don Juan has the jewel, and so the father decides to prevent him seeing his daughter. Don Juan, for his part, rejects Violante, who believes that this is only play-acting, and that it will be cleared up by the magic powers of Don Diego. At the same time, the miser Otáñez, Violante’s squire, also wishes to make use of the services of the astrologer and asks him to make him travel, free of charge, to the mountains; confronted with this naïvety, they decide to trick him, and sitting him on a bench, make him believe that he is flying on horseback. When the trick is about to be discovered, Leonardo asks Don Juan to marry his daughter to restore her honour.



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

An Evening’s Love follows, although at a certain distance, the so-called “Spanish plot” which was triumphing in London at that time, with the nocturnal scene and intrigues between young lovers included. Dryden does not stray from his source, Calderón, in plot or character. An Evening’s… takes place in Madrid; with the exception of Wildblood, Bellamy and Maskall, the names of the characters are Spanish; Bellamy pretends to be an astrologer, just as Don Diego does in the Spanish work, both with the intention of getting closer to their loved one; both the female protagonists are cheated on by their suitors: Donna Theodosia by Don Melchior de Gusman and Doña María by Don Juan. However, Dryden includes much of his own material, and this is particularly evident in the fifth act, for much of which there is nothing similar in the original. The character of the clown is also altered: Maskall differs from Morón, who is much cleverer and becomes more English. Although Dryden omits some of the most comical original scenes, he makes up for it with a fuller treatment of the courtship of Wildblood and Jacintha, to which he gives a humorous slant, relaxing the strict Spanish conception of honour and poking fun at Spain and some of its customs. These scenes, and the tricks of the false magician, mean the work has a light-hearted tone, just as Calderon’s play does. Dryden also gives the work a happier ending, with four weddings, while in the original there was only that of María and Don Juan. However, instead of bestowing the hand of Theodosia on Don Melchior, as Calderón does with Don Juan and Doña María, he marries the English lady to Bellamy. No puede ser el guardar una mujer and its two translations: Tarugo’s Wiles, or, the Coffee-House, by Sydserf, and Sir Courtly Nice, or It Cannot Be, by Crowne. Moreto’s work begins with the meeting of a literary academy and the witty conversations taking place in the house of Doña Ana Pacheco. In the course of the evening, two young nobles, Don Félix and Don Pedro, start arguing over the possibility of defending the honour of a woman. Don Pedro believes it is possible if she is kept confined, and decides to demonstrate this by taking his sister, Doña Inés, as an example. Don Félix, on the other hand, believes that a woman must guard her own honour, and to show his adversary that he is wrong, resolves to court Doña Inés in secret. With the assistance of Doña Ana and his witty servant, Tarugo, Don Félix manages to get into Don Pedro’s house: the first time he presents himself as a tailor; the second, he pretends to be a close friend of the Pacheco family who has returned from the colonies. On learning that Don Pedro has fixed an arranged marriage for his sister, Tarugo sets his imagination to work and succeeds in getting Doña Inés and her maid out of the house. Without knowing it, two of Don Pedro’s servants, Alberto and Sancho, help in this, ejecting from the house what they think are two “loose women” who have come to importune Tarugo. Don Félix and Doña Inés get married. Doña Ana, who is in love with Don Pedro but

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

who has been trying to change his view of women, is satisfied when he admits that his theory was mistaken, and finally they too get married, as do the servants. Both the Spanish playwright and Sydserf take as their starting point two suspicious brothers who want to protect their sisters, but this is not so much the crux of an argument as an excuse to exploit a potentially humourous situation. Although in both cases honour is the motive force driving the rest of the plot, attention mainly centres on the droll, whose name is unchanged in the two works. Tarugo’s Wiles follows the Spanish argument closely, with the exception, precisely, of Tarugo, who arrives in Spain from England and brings with him an uninhibited way of expressing himself. Moreover, while in the Spanish comedy he is a servant, in the English work he is the poor relation of a good family, a curious change that Loftis (1973: 88) attributes to the fact that the character of the droll was poorly considered in England. The rest of the characters, although with different names, have the same functions as in the original. Some differences of lesser importance can be observed, however: for example, unlike in Tarugo’s Wile’s, the two young gentlemen in Moreto’s play are cousins, and the order of scenes changes on occasions. An original scene worth commenting on is that in the coffee-house, where the patrons are typically English although the action is taking place in Spain. The description, however, recalls that of Act I Scene ii, where Moreto details a literary salon. The goings-on in the coffee-house suppose a structural break with the rest of the work, and are alien to the typical cloak and dagger intrigue of comedy; they probably owe their incorporation to the growing popularity in England of the comedy of manners at that time. Although deriving from the same source, Tarugo’s Wiles does not achieve the brilliance of Sir Courtly Nice, the other English translation of No puede ser…. Sydserf ’s adaptation is undeniably much closer to the original, retaining more of the characters and atmosphere of Moreto’s work than his colleague Crowne does, as well as a good part of the dialogue. Sir Courtly Nice strays more from the Spanish play: Leonora and Farewel are lovers but cannot marry because of a long-standing enmity between their families. Lord Bellguard, brother of Leonora and administrator of her estates, is of the opinion that women are easily seduced, and so, to keep his sister away from men and social life, he submits her to the close vigilance of Hothead, Testimony and an elderly aunt. However, to put an end to his responsibility for protecting his sister from the outside world, he arranges a marriage between Leonora and the fop Sir Courtly Nice. Farewel, with the help of Violante — betrothed to Bellguard — uses Crack (the original Tarugo) to free Leonora from the tyranny of her brother. Meanwhile, Violante conspires with Farewel to show Bellguard that his conception of love is mistaken. Crack, after a series of vicissitudes, manages to free Leonora from her particular prison with the aid of Testimony and Hothead, passing her off as a prostitute. Once free, Leonora elopes



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

with Farewel. After discovering that his sister has got married, Bellguard admits he was mistaken in his opinions about how to protect a woman. In his adaptation, Crowne abandons the formal debate on love and honour, and the device of a wager to trigger the action. Instead, he creates an old rivalry between the families of Farewel and Bellguard as the justification for Bellguard’s jealous protection of his sister and his hostility towards her lover. Crack assumes the functions of Tarugo, Don Pedro becomes Lord Bellguard, Doña Inés his sister Leonora, and her friend Doña Ana, Violante. Don Félix appears as Farewel, Leonora’s lover. Don Diego, the rival of Don Félix in No puede ser…, becomes the ineffable Sir Courtly Nice. As can be seen, Crowne follows the original plot and maintains the identity of the majority of the characters, although he anglicises some of the names: Don Félix de Toledo, Don Pedro Pacheco, Doña Ana Pacheco, Doña Inés Pacheco and Tarugo become, respectively, Farewel, Lord Bellguard, Violante, Leonora and Crack. The translator also respects the minor characters: Alberto and Sancho in No puede ser… are Hothead and Testimony in Sir Courtly Nice. The same thing happens with the most important scenes of the original, especially those featuring Tarugo (Crack). However, the changes in the personality of some of the characters, the inclusion of others and the transformation of part of the plot all contribute to give the translation an air of satire and farce that distances it from the Spanish. While it is true that some things are added, much more of the source is lost. In the Spanish case, don Félix is a young aristocrat who gets involved in lovers’ problems basically because his opinions about love and the honour of women has been called into question by his rival. For a time it is more important to win the argument than to win the lady. The omission by Crowne of philosophical considerations and the scenes that take place in the academy obscure the characters of Leonora, Violante, Belguard, Farewell and Crack, the protagonists of the original work: the jealous Don Pedro is irrational, but Bellguard does not even use rashness to justify his behaviour; Doña Ana, wordly-wise, conducts the intrigue motivated principally by interest in her future husband, while Violante argues in order to obtain a certain freedom after marriage. Furthermore, by doing away with the justification of the debate and the wager the moral stature of Tarugo and his master is undermined. This is also appreciated in the language employed, which sometimes borders on the obscene. The translator thus moves away from the wiliness of Tarugo, who, from being the character of most comic substance in Moreto, now shares his comic function with Sir Courtly Nice. Having thinned the content of part of the original script and reduced the functions of the characters, Crowne found himself obliged to create new ones to arouse interest and at the same time achieve comic effect in the work. His most important creation is, obviously, Sir Courtly Nice, to whom we can add Aunt and Surly.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Crack’s stratagems acquire much more relevance than in Moreto’s work, in which there were fewer characters and episodes. Despite all this, however, Crowne transmits the original content quite closely. Thus, in both works, the droll enters the lady’s house as a guest: in Moreto as a returned colonist, in Crowne as Thomas Callico, the son of a rich merchant from the Far East, which gives the play a certain oriental air.14 Both are victims of spells that make them fear seeing women, and both find the best way to ensure that their masters escape without being discovered by their suspicious brothers. Crowne’s dramatic composition clearly distinguishes him from earlier translators: his adaptation is freer than that of Sydserf, and is more independent both in characterisation and dialogue; his success was also much greater than that of his predecessors. In Moreto, as in Sydserf, attention centres on the intelligence of the stratagems; in Crowne, interest shifts from the episodic to the language, from intrigue to satirical dialogue. 3.2.3 The list of characters The characters who, together with the dramatic content make up the plot of the comedies, appear on the first pages of works printed in England and Spain alike. The first thing that strikes the eye is that there are more of them in the translated plays, although in practically all cases these additional characters play a secondary role in the action and do not decisively affect the outcome. Another factor that all the translations have in common is that the order in which the characters are presented in the list of dramatis personæ does not exactly coincide. This could simply reflect a lack of attention by the writers. I shall proceed to reproduce the list of characters in the original and translated works, in the order in which they are printed in the editions used. The correspondences between the Spanish and English characters and the way in which their names were translated do not appear in the tables and will be the object of discussion later:

14. Bradford (1966: 41) is of the opinion that this interest for the Orient has its origin in the curiosity that the natives of Bantam (Indonesia) had aroused in the English after the visit to London of certain Oriental potentates. The English did indeed have a settlement in the Bay of Bantam between 1602 and 1682.



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

Table 8.  Dramatis personæ in Los empeños...… and The Adventures… Los empeños de seis horas DRAMATIS PERSONÆ: 12

The Adventures of Five Hours DRAMATIS PERSONÆ: 16

Don César

Don Henrique, in love with Camilla, but rejected, choleric, jealous, revengeful.

Octavio

Don Carlos, near kinsman to Don Henrique, a well-natured moral gentleman.

Enrique, hermano de Porcia

Don Octavio, in love with Porcia, but feigning to be in love with Camilla, a valiant and accomplished cavalier.

Carlos, hermano de Nise

Don Antonio, contracted to Porcia by proxy, before he saw her, a soldier, haughty and of exact humour.

Quatrín, lacayo de Octavio

Porcia, sister to Don Henrique, ingenuous constant and severely virtuous.

Arnesto, criado de César

Camilla, sister to Don Carlos, susceptible of love, but cautious of her honour.

Camilo, criado de César

Diego, servant to Octavio, bred a scholar, a great coward and a pleasant droll.

Un criado de Enrique

Flora, waiting-woman to Porcia, witty, contriving, and faithful to her mistress.

El asistente

Ernesto and Sancho, servants to Don Antonio.

Flora, criada

Sylvio, Geraldo, Pedro, Bernardino, Jago, servants to Don Enrique

Porcia, dama

The Corregidor and attendants.

Nise

While Coello, in his presentation, divides the characters exclusively by sex, Tuke separates high rank from low, and puts the male characters first. Also, in The Adventures… he incorporates a greater number of servants as well as various attendants. It is worth noting the profusion of information the English translator provides about his characters; this is unusual for the period and is perhaps explained by the fact that The Adventures… is the first translation of a Spanish subject to be staged in England. Faced with a lack of clear references to subjects and types, the translator seems to have decided to facilitate comprehension of the plot both for the reader and the stage director by adding a detailed list of characters and their personality traits: the gentlemen are honourable, the male servant a coward, and the maid, witty. Indeed, in the preface to the third edition Tuke comments on this:

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

“I have in a distinct Column prefix’d the several Characters of the most eminent Persons in the Play; that being acqainted with them at his first setting out, he may the better judge how they are carried on in the whole Composition”.15 Digby, too, included certain observations about his characters, although not in as much detail as Tuke. In this case, Calderón orders the characters by sex and rank, with the exception of Ginés, who appears at the end of the list. Although it contains occasional features of a character’s profile, the English list is only slightly more detailed than that in the Spanish original. Digby also incorporates a page and a new servant, Fulvio. As for the Astrólogo...…, Calderón follows the same line as in No siempre…, this time leaving until the end of the list not the droll, but the least significant character in the play, the equerry Otáñez. Although he makes no mention of the rank of the characters nor, in the case of the ladies and gentlemen, of their surnames, this information appears throughout the work in the form of notes or as part of the dialogue: Table 9.  Dramatis personæ in No siempre… and Elvira, or…. No siempre lo peor es cierto DRAMATIS PERSONÆ: 9

Elvira, or, The Worst Not Always True DRAMATIS PERSONÆ: 11

Don Carlos, galán.

Don Julio Rocca

Don Juan Roca, galán.

Don Pedro de Mendoza

Don Diego Centellas, galán.

Don Fernando Solís, in love with Donna Elvira.

Don Pedro de Lara, viejo.

Don Zancho de Monezes, in love with Donna Blanca.

Fabio, criado.

Fabio, servant to Don Fernando.

Doña Leonor, dama.

Fulvio, servant to Don Pedro

Doña Beatriz, dama.

Chichon, servant to Don Zancho.

Inés, criada.

A Page.

Ginés, criado

Donna Elvira, a beautiful Lady, Don Pedro’s daughter. Donna Blanca, a Lady of high spirit, Don Julio’s sister. Francisca, Donna Blanca’s Woman.

15. These brief descriptions next to the names of the characters were a novelty at the time. Gaw (1917: 38) believes that Tuke provided them in imitation of a similar list, “The Characters of the Persons”, which Jonson had included at the beginning of Every Man out of His Humour.



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

Table 10.  Dramatis personæ in El astrólogo...… and An Evening’s Love. El astrólogo fingido DRAMATIS PERSONÆ: 11

An Evening’s Love; or, the Mock… DRAMATIS PERSONÆ: 13

Don Juan.

Wildblood

Don Antonio.

Bellamy

Don Diego.

Maskall, their Servant.

Don Carlos.

Don Alonza de Ribera, an old Spanish Gentleman.

Leonardo, viejo.

Don Lopez de Gamboa, a young Noble Spaniard.

Moron.

Don Melchior de Guzman, a Gentleman of a great family; but of a decay’d Fortune.

Doña María.

Donna Theodosia Daughters to Don Alonzo.

Doña Violante.

Donna Jacintha

Beatriz, criada

Donna Aurellia, their Cousin

Quiteria, criada.

Beatriz, Woman and Confident to the two Sisters.

Otáñez, escudero

Camilla, Woman to Aurelia.

Two young English Gentlemen

Servants to Don Lopez, and Don Alonzo.

Dryden, like the other translators, gives quite a precise idea of the characters that participate in the action, and also makes a clear distinction between sexes and ranks, leaving the least important servants to the end. A novelty worth mentioning is that Dryden added, beside each character, the name of the actor or actress that played that part on the first night. This information — not reproduced in Table 10 — reveals names well known to the theatregoing public of the time.16 The greater number of characters in the English work is due to the incorporation of two servants and a lady, Jacintha, in both cases without a parallel in the original. Also, Dryden omits Otáñez in his translation. Moreto simplifies in the extreme the descriptions in the list of characters for No puede ser…, in contrast to Sydserf — slightly fuller — and still more Crowne, who reminds one of Tuke in the wealth of detail he places alongside his characters. If we attribute this amount of information to a prevailing ignorance of Spanish comedy, this can hardly be a justification for the detailed dramatis personæ of

16. Some of the actors and actresses who participated in the first performance of Dryden’s work (Mr Hart, Mrs Bowtel, among others) also appeared in many of the works performed by the King’s Company in the second decade of the Restoration period, such as The Man of Mode, The Rival Queens, All for Love, etc. (http://www.nwe.ufl.edu/~pcraddoc/casts.html)

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Table 11.  Dramatis personæ in No puede ser…, Tarugo’s Wiles and Sir Courtly Nice. No puede ser…

Tarugo’s Wiles

Sir Courtly Nice

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ: 10

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ: 13

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ: 10

Don Félix de Toledo.

Don Patricio.

Doña Ana Pacheco.

Don Horatio.

Sir Courtly Nice, a Fop, over-curious in his Diet and Dress, in love with Leonora.

Don Pedro Pacheco.

Liviana, sister to Patricio

Farewel, a young Man of Quality and Fortune, his Rival.

Doña Inés Pacheco.

Locura, her maid.

Surley*, a morose, ill-natur’d, negligent Fellow, in love with Violante.

Don Diego de Rojas.

Sophronia, in love, and belove’d by Patricio.

Crack, a young subtle intriguing Fellow.

Manuela, criada.

Stanlia, her maid.

Hothead, a cholerick zealot against Fanaticks.

Tarugo, criado.

Rodrigo, a knight, design’d by Patricio to marry Liviana.

Testimony, a canting hypocritical Fanatick.

Alberto, caballero.

Tarugo, a younger brother, bred in England, and kinsman to Don Horatio

Violante, a lady of Quality and Fortune, in love with Bellguard.

Sancho, viejo, criado.

Hurtante, a Taylor.

Leonora, Bellguard’s sister, in love with Farewel.

Una criada.

Two sergeants.

Aunt, Leonora’s Governess, an old, amorous, envious Maid.

Criados.

Alberto, servant to Don Patricio.

Músicos.

Domingo, servant to Don Horatio.

Two Knights.

Lord Bellguard, Leonora’s brother, in love with Violante.

*Throughout the work the name of this character is transcribed as Surly.



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

Sir Courtly Nice, first published twenty- two years later when the fashion for Spanish plots was well established. The practice may simply be due to the translator’s desire to help the reader or the stage director to better understand the characters and the nature of the relationships between them. Moreto’s list contains ten characters, excluding additional servants and an indeterminate number of musicians. Sydserf incorporates two officials and a new character, Lorenzo Hurtante, who is alluded to in the original work but never appears on stage. Finally, Crowne gives a brief list which leaves out many secondary characters, musicians and dancers. There are, however, two new incorporations of his own creation: Surly and Aunt. We can thus appreciate certain differences between the four Spanish works and their translations. The gallery of significant characters that in general make up the Spanish comedia is limited to eight: the king, or the untouchable character; the man of power, noble, negative and despotic; the gentleman, father or elder brother who takes on the role of defender of the family honour; the beau, who is moved by impulses of love and jealousy; the droll, the true novelty of the genre, who accompanies the beau and enjoys a perfect rapport with the audience; the peasant, of rural origin, defender of the bloodline and champion of honour; the lady, the female complement to the beau and given up totally to love; and the maid, or companion to the lady and, on many occasions, also her confidante (Oliva & Torres 2000: 205–206). In the Spanish plays that concern us, the king, the man of power and the peasant do not appear, and we are left with plots in which ladies and beaux, with their respective servants, participate, as well as a gentleman, who may be represented by his brother (Los empeños de seis horas, No puede ser…) or by the paternal figure (Don Pedro de Lara and Leonardo in the two remaining works). The English translators respected these five types in their work, and although there are modifications with respect to the originals, these are easily recognisable. Perhaps the greatest transformation is that undergone by Don Diego de Rojas (No puede ser…) when he becomes Sir Courtly Nice, who moves away from the stereotype of the beau to the point where he falls, on occasions, into parody and ridicule. However, there is a whole series of other characters who, although their function within the genre is respected, become English and mix naturally with the Spanish (Bellamy). The incorporation to the action of new characters can also be observed in the translations: servants, officials..., all of these secondary figures. Only on two occasions are there new figures with a significant role: already mentioned Surly and Aunt (Sir Courtly Nice). Bellamy is practically a new creation, an English beau who could perfectly well pass for a Spaniard, although his presence is essential as the alter ego for the development of the plot. The case of Surly is different: supposedly a beau, he has none of the amorous, idealistic, generous, constant or patient characteristics that the conventions of the genre would ascribe to

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

him. Equally surprising is the addition of an aunt of the lady, Aunt, as a servant, although her function is not that of a female version of the droll, as would be expected of the maids, but to control her niece and jealously defend her honour just as if she were her brother or father. The atypical presence of these two characters, alien to the genre of the comedia, is indicative of the new paths that comedy translation was taking in England, which led on occasions to works that seemed more like original English compositions than derivations of the vicissitudes and dilemmas of love and honour so characteristic of Calderón, Moreto or Coello. 3.2.4 The translation of titles The title may well be considered one of the most important elements of the theatrical work, a letter of presentation intended to attract the spectator’s attention. The translator does not usually, therefore, treat the title lightly when rendering it from the foreign text, or quoting it in the course of the work, whether or not it has been previously translated. The comedies we are dealing with here are all first translations from the originals, and so the translators were faced only with the original Spanish title. Only Dryden, in the case of El astrólogo fingido, had two previous references available: the French title Le Feint Astrologue and a previous translation into English, which he might have consulted, titled The Feign’d Astrologer. The manner in which the title is rendered into the target language is fundamental in determining the focus the theatre audience (or reader) will give to the text, as the name the author has chosen for his work and its content are intimately related, to which, of course, must be added the power of evocation that this title might have for its potential public (Mateo 1995b: 23). Christiane Nord (in Moya 2000: 140–141) has found a total of six possible functions of the title: distinctive (identifying the text), metatextual (informing of the existence of the text), descriptive (explaining the content of the text), expressive (evaluating the text), factic (first contact between the emitter and the receiver) and operative (to attract the attention of the reader or spectator). The difference between them lies in the fact that, although the distinctive, metatextual and factic functions are present in all titles, the others are only present in some. The operative function is the reason why in many cases the target title differs radically from the original, in an attempt to surprise or capture maximum interest. It hardly comes as a surprise, then, that the English translators of Spanish Siglo de Oro comedies, who alter to a greater or lesser degree their source texts, should have decided to change the titles of the resulting works, as indeed is the case in almost all these translations. As for the other changes that occur in the titles, there is no one model that fits all the examples. These are the original and translated titles of the plays under consideration: Los empeños de seis horas becomes The Adventures of Five Hours; No siempre lo



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

peor es cierto becomes Elvira, or the Worst not Always True; No puede ser el guardar una mujer becomes Tarugo’s Wiles, or the Coffee-House (Sydserf) and Sir Courtly Nice, or It Cannot Be (John Crowne); El astrólogo fingido becomes, for Dryden, An Evening’s Love, or the Mock Astrologer. It will be observed that the Spanish title is a simple one,17 and becomes a double one in the English text, with the exception of The Adventures…. In this last example in particular, the change in title is fully justified: the six hours of the original are so distributed that each day occupies a drama time of two hours. The division of the English translation into five acts made it very difficult to maintain this original temporal order, and so Tuke organised the time of the action differently, as we shall see in the following chapter. In three of the translations we observe how the original title is transformed into the secondary title of the translated version: No siempre lo peor es cierto: Elvira, or the Worst not Always True; No puede ser el guardar una mujer: Sir Courtly Nice, or It Cannot Be; El astrólogo fingido: An Evening’s Love, or the Mock Astrologer. In Elvira, or…, Digby gives greatest protagonism to the character of the leading lady, whose name is the first title of the play. The same strategy is followed by Crowne in his translation of Moreto’s work, making Sir Courtly Nice an unquestioned English leader. Finally, of the two parallel plots of El astrólogo..., Dryden decides to pay most attention to the love affairs of the protagonists, especially that of Wildblood-Jacintha;18 these love affairs thus take precedence over the falsity of Don Juan the astrologer, and greater weight is given to an evening’s courting in the city of Madrid. The Elizabethan and Jacobean tradition may perhaps explain the transformation of these three particular titles. In the Spanish plays, the action develops swiftly, and there is hardly time to dwell on the characterisation of the protagonists, for which a few brushstrokes suffice. English theatre, on the other hand, traditionally gave less importance to action and more to the description of the characters, as is evidenced in these three English translations. The characters and their circumstances therefore acquire an importance that justifies their appearance in the title. Sydserf, too, gives Tarugo a relevant role. However, the Scottish translator goes further, and changes the title completely: Tarugo becomes the protagonist and appears as the first part of the title, whereas the second part corresponds to a text that does not even exist in the source play. The importance given by the translator to the droll and to his peculiar coffee-house thus overshadows the other components of the comedy. 17. Double titles were not, however, unusual in Siglo de Oro theatre, or in the eighteenth century. 18. Loftis (1973: 109) sees clear similarities between the story of this couple’s love and others created by Molière and other playwrights, and which may even be found in various works by Dryden himself, as he uses here the same humorous device he had already employed in Secret Love.

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Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

All these strategies reveal a descriptive function of the translation of the titles; that is, description of characters and plot, the referential value, takes precedence over other considerations. Apart from this, it is quite frequent that Spanish comedias mention the title of the work in the dialogue, in those scenes where the action related coincides with the content of the title, or at the end of the third jornada or act, as a way of closing the play. This is exactly what happens in El astrólogo fingido, a title which is mentioned only once in the whole of the Spanish play, and is given to Don Diego moments before the curtain falls: DON DIEGO:

[...] Esta boda se celebre, para que con su contento supla las faltas que tiene Un astrólogo fingido, si tantas perdón merecen. [El astrólogo fingido, Jornada III, p. 266]

This mention is absent from the translated work, in which neither the primary nor secondary title is alluded to. Quatrín, for his part, closes Los empeños de seis horas in a similar way to Don Diego: QUATRIN:

Aquí señores acaben Los empeños de seis horas, perdonad yerros tan grandes. [Los empeños..., Jornada III, p. 136]

This allusion, too, is absent from the English translation. We find a slightly different case in No siempre…. Don Diego is the cause of the rupture in the relationship between Leonor and Don Carlos. In the first moments of the play he anxiously quotes the saying that gives it its title, and Leonor, being sure of her own innocence, inverts it: DON CARLOS: LEONOR:

Porque temo que en cualquier suceso siempre es cierto lo peor. Pues yo en mi inocencia espero que ha de haber suceso en que “no siempre lo peor es cierto”.

[No siempre..., Jornada I, p. 84]

But Don Carlos, passionately in love and blinded by jealousy, insists on his thesis almost to the end; Leonor, for her part, maintains an identical response:



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

DON CARLOS: LEONOR:

No, porque dice un adagio “Siempre es cierto lo peor”. Yo lo enmendaré, mudando: “No siempre lo peor es cierto”.

[No siempre..., Jornada III, p. 167]

Calderón always finds a realistic way to turn events towards the lesser evil, and so, when the curtain falls, the audience is convinced that the worst is not always true; as in the two pieces just mentioned, the writer expresses this conviction in the words of one of his characters: GINÉS:

Que aunque la experiencia engañe no siempre lo peor es cierto. Perdonad sus yerros grandes. [No siempre..., Jornada III, p. 177]

Digby maintains three allusions to the metaphor that gives the work its title. Thus Elvira declares herself innocent, and makes it clear from the first act that she trusts that justice will prevail: ELVIRA:

And that I leave it to the gods and time, to make appear both to the world and you, the maxim false, that still the worst proves true. [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 448]

As happened with Don Carlos in the Spanish text, Don Fernando remains blinded by his misfortune, and does not hesitate to confide to his friend that “the worst proves always true with me” (Act II, p. 453). Finally, Digby distances himself from Tuke and Dryden and concludes the piece with an allusion to the title, though not through the droll but in the words of Don Fernando himself, who is now convinced of his error: FERNANDO:

I now renounce old maxims: having you, Elvira, I am sure the very best proves true. [Elvira, or…, Act V, p. 477]

References to the title are much more frequent in Moreto’s play, No puede ser…. On the one hand, we find seven partial allusions that recall the intention of the play; on the other, on three occasions the title is repeated almost literally, and one of these, as was customary, closes the work: DOÑA ANA:

Desengañar a este necio que el guardar una mujer no puede ser…

[No puede ser…, Jornada I, p. 189]

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

MANUELA:

Sepan los necios del siglo que el guardar una mujer, si ella guardase no quiso, no puede ser, aunque tenga más guardas que el vellocino. [No puede ser…, Jornada II, p. 201]

DON FÉLIX:

Y sirva este ejemplo fiel para que los que presumen que el guardar una mujer, es fácil, con este aviso digan que no puede ser.

[No puede ser…, Jornada III, p. 208]

In Sydserf ’s translation, only the closing reference is retained, when Horatio is finally convinced “of the impossibility of restraining a Womans Will” (Act V, p. 54). For his part, Crowne does not follow completely the dictates of Moreto in this respect and refers to the title on three occasions, although only vaguely. The first of these serves to conclude the first act, which is done in the form of a couplet: BELLGUARD: I think to secure you, dear sister. Women, like China, should be kept with Care, One Flaw debases her to common Ware. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act I, p. 27]

The second one ends the performance: BELLGUARD: It is a vain Dream of what we never see, And I’ll proclaim to all –It cannot be. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act V, p. 105]

We observe, therefore, that the translators do not pay particular attention to allusions to the title in the source text. Digby is an exception in this respect, perhaps because the action revolves mainly around the metaphor that constitutes the subtitle of the English work. Sydserf and Crowne do make allusions to them, although without the forcefulness with which they are inserted into the dialogues of the Spanish originals. Given that this practice was not particularly common in English theatrical comedy of the period, these omissions are one more example of adjustment to the norms of the target language to make the translations more acceptable to the receiver.



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

3.3 The structure of the translated plays Events on stage, essentially a consequence of the characters’ behaviour, are susceptible to change during the process of translation. The facts and actions that make up the drama may not entirely satisfy the person translating them, either on account of their content or because of the way they are organised, and this in turn affects other aspects such as dramatic tension or intrigue. The translator may also modify the psychology of an original character, or introduce new ones, and both these changes may substantially alter the course of the action. Another factor is the theatrical model prevailing in the recipient culture: the treatment of the unities of action, time and place in the receptor country, or the way in which stage and music directions are conceived there, may also change the end product. Interspersed letters, or the fashion for prologues and epilogues, are additional elements that are also conditioned by this theatrical culture. 3.3.1 The division of the action Spanish comedy was composed with a view to performance in the afternoon, in daylight, and lasting two to three hours without interruption, as there were no interludes.19 The stage was never empty, as apart from the three acts other works were also performed. The maximum could be a eulogy followed by the first act, then an entremés, or one-act comedy, the second act and the dance, to conclude with the third act and a closing celebration, although this could be reduced to a playlet and at most a dance, or extended much further in other performances (Rozas 1976: 152). An initial comparison of original comedies with their translations shows that these latter are noticeably longer, when, in fact, they were intended for a show lasting some three hours. The reason is that the English performance dispensed with the playlets, and the music and dance were included in the work together with the prologue and epilogue. The Spanish plays were divided into three acts, or jornadas, as opposed to the classical five that remained the norm in England and France. These jornadas are often described as equivalent to presentation, development and dénouement, though this is not always so; indeed, the dénouement may be postponed until the last lines of the play, thus holding the spectator’s attention until the plot is untangled. In almost all cases this procedure is respected by the translator. As for the internal distribution of the act, in most of the editions published during the Siglo de Oro there are no visible indications of the division into scenes; to appreciate 19. I am referring here to the performance of Spanish comedies in the corrales, as in the palace theatres the availability of artificial light meant that the show could start later.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

these breaks it is necessary to be on the lookout for an interruption in space and time (on occasions the sequence is cut abruptly by a sudden change of place), the course of the action (sometimes accompanied by a change of set) and, of course, to the polymetry, often a useful device to indicate the different moments of dramatic development. Typical, too, of Spanish Golden Age comedias is the presence of monologues or asides of the principal characters, which are uttered alone or in the presence of an interlocutor. Although the function of the monologue is to show the state of mind of the character and reveal more of his or her psychology, it may also serve to succinctly narrate dramatic events, or simply to let characters unburden themselves. The English playwrights, on the other hand, held firm to the division into five acts and, at times, the different scenes were graphically marked in the printed works, although not always in a coherent and logical fashion. It must be remembered that the use of verse for this purpose was not a valid alternative here, as the translators ignored the original metre. Nor were they fond of retaining the long monologues of the Spanish works, which they transferred in a variety of ways. We shall now proceed to see how all these aspects were handled in the works that interest us and the way in which the translators took the action of their originals and implanted it in their own creations. Los empeños de seis horas and The Adventures of Five Hours Tuke’s work is, without doubt, the closest to the original in this sense, yet even so the translator makes certain interpolations: the preliminary scene between Henrique and Carlos, which speaks of the harshness with which the Spanish treat their women; the moment when humorous remarks are made about the Dutch, or the scene at the end of Act V, which is lengthened so that Henrique can be persuaded that Porcia, and not Camilla, is destined to become the wife of Antonio. He also inserts very brief passages on the special relationship between the droll Diego and Flora, as well as short paragraphs throughout the five acts. With these provisos, however, Tuke conserves the original argument intact. The conversion of three acts into five requires different divisions to be introduced, which Tuke makes coincide with significant changes of scene: the first act is divided into two in the English work, the second starting with the arrival in Seville of Don Antonio and Sancho, approximately halfway through the original first act. The start of the third act of The Adventures… coincides with that of the second act of the Spanish play; halfway through this, the English Act IV begins, to be precise, in the house of Octavio. A change of scene to the chamber of Don Antonio is the starting point of the third Spanish act. In this way, Tuke tries to maintain the balance in the distribution of the acts.



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

As regards the treatment of the original monologues, the translator manages to keep a sizeable part of their content, although not the form. Los empeños...… has two very long monologues, of 204 and 179 lines respectively, delivered by one or other of the leading couple, Nise and César: the lady tells Porcia of her journey through Europe and how she has fallen in love with a man whose identity she does not know (Jornada I, pp. 106–9); César tells Don Diego of his adventures in the Low Countries and how he came to know Nise (Jornada I, pp.  112–14). In the English work, the first monologue becomes a conversation between Camilla and Porcia with more extensive contributions from the first. In view of the length of the original monologues I shall reproduce here an extract from each to demonstrate how the division works in English: NISE: Para breves desalientos CAM: O’ercharg’d with Joy, I fell into a Swoon; parca no durable, el humo and that which happened during this Interval, me dexó el vivir suspenso, is not within the Circle of my Knowledge. paréntesis de la vida POR: You’ve raised me to a mighty expectation; fue el desmayo, y del suceso will the Adventure answer it, Camilla? también, porque ignoro cuanto CAM: At my return to life, opening my eyes, sucedió todo ese tiempo. think, dear Porcia, how I was astonished… Solo sé que cuando ya [The Adventures…, Act I, p. 56] restituida en mi acuerdo, temiendo hallar todavía allí a mi enemigo fiero, abrí los ojos para… [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 108]

In the English work, Nise is interrupted by the interpellation of Porcia, putting an end to one part of the monologue. This technique is repeated throughout the soliloquy. The same happens in the case of César, whose intervention is interrupted by the constant comments of his friend Octavio. Here is an extract from the first time he saw his beloved:

CES: …que envuelto en polvo, OCT: O how unsafe it is to be secure! procura huir del fuego: yo entonces ANT: Finding no more Resistance, I made haste por la puerta, y confuso to a lofty structure, which, as I conceived, con el humo, entro en la cuadra, was the likeliest Quarter for their Officer, con no sé qué furia oculta, led thither by Desire to rescue both, piso horrores, ¡qué osadía! Him, from the Soldiers’ rage; That, from the Fire. venzo el riesgo ¡qué ventura! OCT: A care most worthy of a Gallant Leader. Y en la cuadra ¡qué dolor! ANT: But think, Octavio, how I was surprised, Miro postrado ¡qué angustia! when, entering the Pavillion i’the Garden, Entre las llamas ¡qué pena! I found a Woman of a Matchless form.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

De esta suerte una hermosura. [The Adventures…, Act II, p. 73] [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 112]

In this case, Octavio interrupts the account twice in a very short space of time. Indeed, all the original interventions which are of certain lenght, though without constituting a monologue, are in general shortened in the target language. No siempre lo peor es cierto and Elvira, or The Worst Not Always True The action of No siempre… is divided between two plots that run in parallel. The cause of the initial incident is Don Diego, who, when he enters Leonor`s house, provokes the jealousy of Carlos. Both plots, that of Don Diego and Don Carlos, advance symmetrically and in parallel once they arrive in Valencia. The confrontation between the two rivals in the second act will bring the plots together, and so they continue in the third and last. Digby links events without paying much attention to dramatic continuity, as he chooses not to follow the order planned by Calderón. Furthermore, he takes certain scenes and mixes them, purportedly to improve on the original, though this he fails to achieve. For example, in the first act, Don Carlos takes Leonor with him in his flight, but Digby leaves the lady in her house, and the translator is then faced with the problem of how to bring Carlos and Leonor together again. Clumsily, the English writer does not mention how this reunion occurs, resolving the problem with some words from the beau: “Within two hours I put her in a coach, and, favour’d by the night, convey’d her safe out of Madrid” (Act I, p. 449). Another change, also in the first act, takes place in the scene between Don Carlos and Don Juan, which is interrupted when Fabio arrives to announce that Leonora’s father is lodging in the same inn as Don Carlos. In the English work, the arrival of Elvira’s father occurs before the scene between Don Juan and Don Fernando, which means that the tension created in the Spanish work disappears. These are only a sample of how the increasing dramatic tension that Calderón sought does not have the same effect in Elvira, or…, nor is the desired balance, which Tuke largely managed to obtain, achieved here. Moreover, whereas the latter made clear the division into five acts of the three original ones, the alteration of the order of the scenes in Elvira, or… does not allow us to make this calculation with precision. Also, Digby incorporates new scenes, divides others into various sequences and adds verses to those already existing, which makes the text more difficult to follow and so complicates its study. The new scenes referred to usually correspond to a need created by the translator. One of them centres on Elvira, who, surrounded by fountains and orange trees, is entreated by Blanca to sing a song. It appears as though Digby was obliged to create a sequence that would permit the insertion of the musical theme. Another scene created by this translator is the brief humorous dialogue between Don Zancho and his servant, with which he closes the second act, leaving the audience



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

with a smile on their faces. In other cases, he splits scenes up and alternates them with others, with a consequent change of location. The clearest example is found in one of the most amusing moments of the play, when Don Zancho and his servant arrive in Valencia and head for the house of Doña Blanca. The translator, perhaps in an attempt to get as much as possible from the comic possibilities of the scene, decides to divide it into three, alternating them with the more serious conversations between Don Julio and Don Fernando (Act II, p. 453). A similar rupture also occurs in the treatment of the monologues. No siempre… presents five long discourses in each of which a character narrates or evaluates his or her situation. The first of these, spoken by Leonor and comprising 145 lines (Jornada I, pp. 68–72), is reduced to twenty-three lines in English (Act I, p. 448), while in the other cases the reduction in the number of lines is accompanied by their rupture due to the interpellations of another character; thus, the 173-line discourse of Don Carlos (Jornada I, pp. 75–80) is reduced to the 71 assigned to Don Fernando in Elvira, or…, and these are interrupted on five occasions (Act I, pp. 448–9); Don Juan devotes 92 lines to his monologues (Jornada II, pp. 107–110), as against the 23 of Don Julio in the English text, with three interruptions (Act III, pp. 257–8); old Don Pedro details his aches and pains in 71 lines (Act II, pp. 123–5), while his English counterpart requires only 31 lines, and is interrupted on one occasion (Act III, p. 462); finally, Don Diego tells his story in 132 lines (Jornada III, pp. 170–4) which are reduced to 43 in the case of Don Zancho, a discourse which is twice interrupted. The expressions used to provoke the rupture of the monologue usually express surprise on the part of the interlocutor, and are very similar one to another: “Prodigious accident! Where can it end?” (p. 448); “Heavens forbid” (p. 458); “’Tis our hard fate indeed” (p. 462); “Blest gods! What do I hear?” (p. 476); etc. El astrólogo fingido and An Evening’s Love, or the Mock Astrologer The comparison of Dryden’s work with the original proves more difficult, not only because of the incorporation of new characters and situations, but also because of the changes in their order. El astrólogo...starts with a conversation between María and her maid, in which Don Juan later participates. Subsequently, Beatriz tells Morón that her mistress is secretly seeing Don Juan, whom everyone believes is in Flanders. Dryden sets the dialogue between Doña María and her lover in Act IV and begins with the words between Don López and his servant, who relates to his master what, in the Spanish text, Beatriz relates to Morón. From this moment on, there will be constant changes to scenes or parts of scenes. Moreover, the translator puts words into the mouths of characters other than those originally assigned to them, and introduces new characters and situations. There is a clear example just after the conversation above between Lopez and his servant: two English gentlemen appear on stage, Bellamy and Wildblood, who plan to court two Spanish

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

ladies, Theodosia and Jacintha, each under the close vigilance of their respective fathers. Bellamy and Jacintha are not included in the Spanish text, although the former will assume the functions of astrologer that Don Diego (in English, Don Lopez) exercises in El astrólogo.... The courtships are also an invention of Dryden, as are the toings and froings of the droll as he attempts to arrange meetings between the couples, something he does not achieve with Wildblood and Theodosia, as she is in love with Don Melchior. The whole of this intrigue is the invention of the translator, as is the love affair of Jacintha and Wildblood, which gives the play the first part of its title. What is more, the Spanish Don Diego loses much of his protagonism, even in his amorous vicissitudes, when he is deprived of his ability to see the future: in the original he is in love with Violante; in the translation, this detail which accounts for several humorous situations in the Spanish work passes almost unnoticed. The second act of An Evening’s Love opens with a conversation between Doña María and Don Diego in which he, spurred on by his jealousy, reveals what he knows of the meetings between María and Don Juan. The lady accuses the maid of being a tell-tale, and Morón, to defend her, says that everything is due to the powers of Don Diego as a seer. From this moment his adventures as an astrologer begin: his fame spreads throughout the city and reaches the ears of Leonardo and Violante, who decide to consult him. Dryden follows the general outline of this argument, but interleaving new episodes: vicissitudes in the story of Wildblood and Jacintha, the courting of ladies, music and fights between gentlemen, all throughout the second and third acts. María’s gift of a jewel to Don Juan is the starting point for the third act of El astrólogo... The meeting which Leonardo and the astrologist arrange to try to recover it is the start of a series of situations that make up the main action of this act, complemented by two parallel plots: the efforts of Violante to win back Don Juan and the final scene of the credulous Otáñez. Throughout the fourth act, Dryden once more reorders the scenes at will and includes new one, while he reserves the fifth to resolve the action through an intrigue that is almost entirely of his own invention. In this way he unmasks the astrologer and the union of the couples is solved, albeit in a somewhat unorthodox manner. In the Spanish work, Calderón includes, as was the fashion, two lengthy monologues in the first act that Don Juan and Doña María make use of to declare their love for each other (pp. 227–229). The 119 lines of the first and the 74 of the second disappear from the translation to become a lively dialogue between the lovers, Melchior and Theodosia, which Dryden postpones until Act IV (pp.  350–351). The fact that the translator gives this story secondary importance would explain the suppression of the monologues. Doña María’s lover, Don Diego, has his own soliloquy in the original text (pp. 239–241): in 122 lines, he cries his prowess as an



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

astrologer. Dryden omits this completely, with the exception of a few related adventures invented by Maskall. No puede ser el guardar una mujer and its two translations: Tarugo’s Wiles and Sir Courtly Nice, or It Cannot Be Moreto is a special case as regards the development of dramatic action. He shares with Calderón and Coello their regularity, order and unity, but deviates slightly from them in that he grants a specific importance to the psychology of the characters. The humour therefore resides not so much in jokes as in the psychology, and dramatic and lyrical sense are to be found in the situations, rather than in lengthy soliloquies. This explains why, but for the presence of one or two extended interventions, monologues have no place in No puede ser…. Sydserf respects the line of action imposed by Moreto, although he allows himself certain licence. The inclusion of a third act, totally original and unconnected with the thrust of the argument, would appear to be a nod towards English comic tradition, but it supposes a considerable rupture not only in the structure, but also in content: the conversations in the coffee-shop on matters of such topical interest in the England of 1667 as the transfusion of blood, and which would be of interest to the London spectator, are far removed from the conflicts of love and honour of Spanish classics. In the rest of the acts, while remaining close to the original, he does not hesitate to change the layout of the contents at will: thus, in the first act, he suppresses the scene of the Academy, and introduces, as early as the second scene, Liviana and Locura, characters who appear for the first time in the Spanish text almost at the end of the first act. Sydserf gives the lady the subject of honour and paternal severity, anticipating, perhaps precipitously, the course of events. At the end of the second act he introduces a new scene in which a secondary character, the tailor Hurtante, sets out in search of Tarugo, providing a perfect excuse to link this act with the next. The fourth act takes up again the action that was interrupted in the second, making the opening of the Spanish third act coincide with the beginning of the fifth. It is in this last act that Sydserf tries to retain the rapidity of Moreto’s dialogue, but the humour and freshness of the original surpass the imitation. Crowne, too, distances himself from his source at certain moments and attempts to include aspects that, although interconnected within the main plot, are foreign to the Spanish text. Crowne’s adaptation is indeed freer than Sydserf ’s, and much more independent of the source text both in characterisation and dialogue. The translator respects the principal action of the Spanish playtext, that is, the parts of the plan intended to show that “it cannot be”. This main line of action is accompanied by other parallel ones that either have no counterpart in the departure text, or are changed at the decision of the translator: thus, Alberto and Sancho,

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

the servants of Leonardo, acquire much more importance, and, transformed into Hothead and Testimony, participate throughout the work with their arguments, mainly of a religious nature. The introduction of a new character, Surly, gives rise to innovative scenes in which he is accompanied by Farewel or Violante (Act II), or Sir Courtly (Act III); the same can be said of this latter who, from the moment he makes his entrance in the third act, will be the protagonist of a number of situations and surprises. Finally, the intervention of a third new character, Aunt, modifies the original scenes (her presence when the tailor Tarugo arrives home, for example) or creates new ones (her conversations with Hothead, Testimony or Sir Courtly are a good example). In general, the Spanish comedias considered here give preference to action over other aspects, and this action is often made more agile by the use of appropriate metrics. The translators, too, favour the primacy of action, but, since they forsake verse, look (not always successfully) for other ways to provide internal rhythm. These include the use of more extensive notes (as we shall see shortly), reducing the content of the monologues or breaking the monologues up by the interruptions of other characters. At the same time, they attempt to enliven their translations either by introducing new action, a practice of which Sydserf, Dryden and Crowne are obvious exponents, or adding and altering scenes and contents which not always obtain the desired results, as is the case with Digby. 3.3.2 The three unities: action, place and time The so-called comedia nueva created a kind of play that was freed of all the limiting norms, including that of the three unities. The only one of these that still prevailed was that of action, although it was not strictly applied: despite the fact that Lope de Vega, in his Arte nuevo de hacer comedias, argued for a story that “in no manner be episodic; I mean the introduction of other things which are beside the main purpose”,20 Spanish comedias present parallel or interrelated plots and excessive use is made of intrigue, master and servant pairings, etc., which infringes this norm. The unity of time, limited by the closest adherents to precept as “a natural day”,21 admits much more flexibility in practice: while the ideal was that the duration of the action (the time of discourse or literary time) should coincide with the 20. I quote from William T. Brewster’s translation of Significado y doctrina del “Arte Nuevo” de Lope de Vega, in http://www.archive.org/stream/newartofwritingp00vegauoft/newartofwritingp00vegauoft_djvu.txt. 21. In his Arte nuevo, Lope de Vega recommended that the unity of time should be adhered to in all cases except in historical comedy: “There is no use in advising that it should take place in the period of the sun, though this is the view of Aristotle; but we lose our respect for him when we mingle tragic style with the humbleness of mean comedy. Let it take place in as little time as



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

real time of the performance, it was at times more important to achieve a degree of verisimilitude, and so the unity of time was subjugated to this. Nor is there respect for the unity of place, which Lope does not even mention in his Arte nuevo… and which requires that the action does not move from its initial location. In 1668, Dryden, in his Essay of Dramatick Poesie, refers to three unities that in his opinion should be respected in all dramatic works. He accepts the existence of more than one plot, but: “They must be subservient to the great one, which our language happily expresses in the name of under-plots” (1668:  13). Likewise, he defends the natural day as the desirable time limit, at the same time as he favours an equal division of time over the five acts: “’Tis therefore the Poets duty, to take care that no Act should be imagin’d to exceed the time in which it is represented on the Stage, and that the intervals and inequalities of time be suppos’d to fall out between the Acts” (ibid.: 12). Finally, he asks that the unity of time should also be respected, although the existence of several spaces is acceptable if they are not too far apart: The Scene ought to be continu’d through the Play, in the same place where it was laid in the beginning: for the Stage, on which it is represented, being but one and the same place, it is unnatural to conceive it many; and those fare distant from one another. I will not deny but by the variation of painted Scenes, the Fancy (which in these cases will contribute to its own deceit) may sometimes imagine it several places, with some appearance of probability; yet it still carries the greater likelihood of truth, if those places be suppos’d so near each other, as in the same Town or City; which may all be comprehended under the larger Denomination of one place: for a greater distance will bear no proportion to the shortness of time. (Dryden 1668: 13)

However, Dryden is well aware that few of his contemporaries paid much attention to these rules: “If by these Rules […] we should judge our modern Plays; ‘tis probable, that few of them would endure the tryal” (ibid.: 14). Indeed, Dryden himself did not strictly follow his own precepts. The rupture of the three unities was therefore a common feature of seventeenth-century English literature, and our translators were no exception. Decades later, Farquhar referred in his Discourse (1702) to the rules of Restoration comedy in the following terms: “The rules of the English comedy don’t lie in the compass of Aristotle or his followers but in the pit, box and galleries” (in Styan 1986: 11). Farquhar refers here to something of which the playwrights were well aware: the rupture of the three unities, but not, in his opinion, for the sake of greater realism, but because the audience demanded freedom of time and space, as they mingled with the players and became part of the performance. In any case, the fact that Spanish writers ignored these three possible, except when the poet is writing history” (http://www.archive.org/stream/newartofwritingp00vegauoft/newartofwritingp00vegauoft_djvu.txt).

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

rules facilitated translation, as the English translators could combine faithfulness to the original authors with the usage of their own theatrical culture. This means, as we have seen in the comparison of source and target plots, that neither the Spanish plots nor their translations strictly observe the unity of action (not even in respect to decorum, as they mix persons of high and low rank and have them participate in humorous scenes and more serious ones alike). However, although the translators do not stray far from the source texts as regards the duration of the work and its location, there are certain variations in these two unities which we shall analyse when we compare the original plays with their corresponding translations. Los empeños de seis horas and The Adventures of Five Hours In Coello’s work there is a significant concentration of time (which does not occur in the other Spanish comedies) which is reinforced by the title and the constant, deliberate references throughout the work that keep this notion of time in the mind of the audience. The same is true of the translation, although Tuke has the additional problem of the original title, which refers to “six hours”, and he is faced with the need to modify such allusions in the original text: FLORA: Son las siete, que a las seis, si bien lo advierto vino Nise a visitarte. [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 110]

FLO: I think near Seven, for the Clock struck Six just as Camilla entered the Chamber. [The Adventures…, Act I, p. 64]

OCT: ¿Qué hora es? CAM: Las ocho han dado, y ya anochece. QUAT: Notemos que es verano, y ya tenemos dos horas menos cuidado.

ERN: I swear, Sir, I’m amazed at this great Change; Tis not above two hours, since I found here a numerous, and well ordered Family.

[Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 115]

[The Adventures…, Act III, p. 90]

QUAT: De oírtelo desespero: Peor que peor; ¿cochero casi a las diez de la noche? [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 122]

DIE: A pretty Errand at this time o’he night; These Chairmen are exceedingly well natured, they likely to obey a Sevant’s orders after nine a’Clock. [The Adventures…, Act IV, p. 99]

OCT: ¿Qué hora fue cuando trajiste el papel de mis pesares, Flora? FLO: Pues poco más o menos las ocho de la tarde. [Los empeños..., Jornada III, p. 132]

∅



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

Both the time indicators and the title allow us to calculate the duration of Los empeños... as six hours: the first act begins at six in the evening and concludes at eight; the second act finishes a little after ten (inferred from the reference “a las diez de la noche”); and the plot is finally unravelled at twelve. Tuke also opens the work at six, but the time allusion “diez de la noche” becomes “nine o’clock”, thus shortening the duration by an hour, as the title, The Adventures of Five Hours, proclaims. At the same time, with this change the translator seems to be attempting a certain synchrony between the three central acts and the real time of performance of a courtly play (Gaw 1917: 54). During the Restoration period, Court performances usually commenced around seven and ended not long after ten at night. By starting the second act at seven, Tuke made it coincide with the time it was expected to be performed. The reference to nine at night in the fourth act meant the work had to conclude at eleven at night, and therefore the period between seven and ten would coincide, grosso modo, with real time. There are, however, two time references in the text of Calderón that have not been translated and that refer to the time of year in which the story takes place: QUATRÍN:

Notemos que es verano, y ya tenemos dos horas menos cuidado.

QUATRÍN:

Horas de Agosto, y sin cena por fuerza han de ser muy largas. [Los empeños..., Jornada III, p. 132]

[Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 115]

Just as Tuke tried, as far as he could, to achieve maximum verisimilitude by his distribution of time, he may well have pursued the same end by omitting these two allusions, bearing in mind that The Adventures… was first performed in the month of January. As for unity of place, this was not respected at all, as in both the original text and the translation the scene is set in four different parts of Seville: two connected houses, the garden of one of them, the street, and another house two streets away. There are, however, two clear differences between the original text and the translation: first, the clarity with which Tuke situates the action in time; this information is always given in the form of directions, not in the dialogue as the original does. For example, each act of the English work is preceded by a phrase referring to where it is taking place; in the Spanish work, this information has to be gleaned from the words of the characters: CARL: Ya prima te traigo aquí a mi hermana. [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 105]

[Don Henrique’s house] [The Adventures…, Act I, p. 47]

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

CAM: Temprano en Sevilla entramos [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 111]

[A street in Seville] [The Adventures…, Act II, p. 67]

POR: Os subid a tener en cuenta, por si viniere mi hermano. [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 116]

[Don Henrique’s house] [The Adventures…, Act III, p. 80]

FLO: La casa de Octavio es ésta, allí la llevaron. [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 119]

[Don Octavio’s house] [The Adventures…, Act IV, p. 98]

CRIA: ¿A dónde, señor, la llevas? CARLOS: A mi casa; venid vos. [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 127]

[Don Carlos’s house] [The Adventures…, Act V, p. 119]

Similarly, Tuke uses the notes to mark changes of scene within each act: [Scene changes to a garden] (p. 82); [Scene changes to Seville] (p. 89); [Scene changes to Don Antonio’s Apartment] (p. 109), etc. As a consequence, the English text omits such information in practically all cases. The localisation of houses in Coello’s text, and how this is expressed in the English version, will serve as an example: POR: Aunque lo temo por el jardín, cuya puerta cae, como sabes tan lejos, que allá en la de San Vicente cae el jardín, saliendo a la calle de las Armas la principal. [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 110–1]

POR: In the Remotest part of all the Garden, which answers (as you know) to my Apartment.

[The Adventures…, Act I, p. 64]

The information omitted from the English text does not disappear entirely, but it is incorporated to the text sometimes in the form of notes, sometimes as part of the dialogue through strategies of compensation; for example, in the following act the name of one of the streets is given: “A Lower Quarter, very noble furnished, / that opens on Saint Vincent’s Street” (Act II, p. 72). No siempre lo peor es cierto and Elvira, or The Worst Not Always True The rupture of the unities of time and place characterise both Calderón’s work and its English translation, as they take place in various locations and over a period of time greater than twenty-four hours. The time of the action is identical in both cases: one complete day and twelve hours of the following. The first act has a duration of twenty-four hours, while the second and third take place the following day, from morning to night. In the English text, the first twenty-four hours coincide exactly with the first and second acts, while the rest of the time is distributed among the remaining three. This information



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

is easily obtained from the time references in the source text and the target text, although such references are much more frequent in the second of these. No siempre… begins one early morning as Carlos decides to awaken Elvira. The following reference indicates that there is no light, as Don Juan exclaims: “Siendo ya el anochecer / ¿no hay luces en casa?” (Jornada I, p. 100). The second act begins on the morning of the second day. The time elapsing between the first two acts of Elvira, or… is identical to the source text, but the time markers are much more frequent in the English play: D: FER: Have you not been with him, Fabio, and given him the note? I found him newly got out of his bed. [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 447] D. FER: If she be still asleep, Fabio, make bold to knock, and wake her, w’have no time to lose. [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 447]

Later in the English text we reach the early afternoon, as Don Julio asks his sister: “What, sister, at your siesta already?” (Act I, p. 452). Don Fernando announces that he will be alert this night, and when Don Juan arrives home he remarks, as did Don Julio in No siempre…, on the lack of light: “What, ho! No lights below stairs?” (Act II, p. 454). But Digby emphasises the idea of night wth a scene in which Blanca, getting undressed, bids Silvia go to bed, and Don Julio says goodnight (Act II, p. 455), not counting the mention Fabio makes of the moon (Act II, p. 456). Moreover, the translator departs from the original and has Elvira’s father show up on stage for the first time, again choosing the night for this appearance; to his call a voice replies: “You must have patience till to-morrow, sir; Don Julio went sick to bed” (Act II, p. 456). The second act of No siempre… opens early the following morning, which coincides with the beginning of the third act of Elvira, or…: CARL: ¿Tan de mañana, don Juan? DON FER: I see you sleep not in your friend’s Pues, ¿qué madrugada es ésta? concerns, you’re so early. [No siempre…, Jornada II, p. 105] [Elvira, or…, Act III, p. 457]

To make it clear that this is a new day, there are constant references to the previous night, both in the Spanish text (“anoche”) and in the English one (“yesterday”, “last night”). From this moment, the action rushes towards the evening, the setting for most of the vicissitudes of the comedy. The presence or absence of lights remains the main indicator of the time of day, although the translation marks temporal divisions more progressively, as in the words of Don Julio:

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

D. JULIO:

All things are rightly laid, for Violante will pass the afternoon with Blanca, and then, I waiting on her home in th’ evening, Blanca will be secure from me till late at night. [Elvira, or…, Act IV, p. 463]

The third Spanish act continues the action where it left off. There is hardly any reference to time, although the English text reminds us that it is still night when Don Fernando explains: “My thoughts have been revolving all this night” (Act V, p. 470). Elements alluding to locality are also more frequent in the English translation. In both works Valencia is the city where the action takes place. In the Spanish comedy, this action occurs in three different places: an inn, the house of Don Juan and the street — places which, in general, we are informed of in an anticipatory note. This is the usual way in which spaces are marked in the translation, and they coincide with those designated in the original text: [Sala de una posada] (Jornada I, p. 67) → [The room in the Inn] (Act I, p. 447). [Sala en casa de don Juan] (Jornada I, p. 84) → [Enter don Julio, and knocks as at Blanca’s door] (Act I, p. 452). [Salen Don Pedro y Ginés, de camino] (Jornada I, p. 92) → [Enter Don Zancho and Chichon, his Man, in riding-habits] (Act I, p. 451).

The third example, of course, refers to the street, as suggested by the clothing of the protagonists. Digby, however, is on occasions more precise in his description of these places: “The outward room of the inn”, “Donna Blanca’s antichamber”, “Blanca’s chamber”, “A fine pleasant apartment”, this last being the hiding place of Don Fernando who, in the Spanish version, simply hides in a room in Don Juan’s house. But the translator also adds new locations: while many of the conversations between Don Diego and his servant take place in the street, in Elvira, or… they occur in “Don Zancho’s house” (pp. 457 and 460), and there is also mention of a garden (p. 464), a laboratory (p. 467) and of the place where don Pedro is staying (“his lodging”). It is clear that Digby, with this variety of spaces, wishes to make his work more dynamic; the rapid changes of scene already mentioned also help in this. El astrólogo fingido and An Evening’s Love, or the Mock Astrologer Given the lack of notes indicating times and spaces in Calderón’s work, the dialogues are the only source of such information, although the notes referring to clothing are of key significance in locating certain scenes. El astrólogo... takes place over approximately sixty hours, to which a period of two months must be added: twenty-four hours each of the first two acts, and, supposedly, twelve hours the third one. The play opens at an unspecified time of day; we only have the request of María to her love: “Hablarme esta noche ven” (Jornada I, p. 230). The next reference is a note: [Sale don Juan, y don Carlos en traje de



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

noche] (p. 232), only for us to find, two pages later, that it is already early morning, and Don Juan has spent the night in the house of Doña María.22 BEATRIZ: DON JUAN: BEATRIZ:

Sal presto, que ya amanece, y no hay nadie que te vea. ¡Que tan veloz, Beatriz, sea el tiempo! […] ¿Requiebros a la mañana?

[El astrólogo..., Jornada I, p. 234]

The time reference is reinforced by the conversation between Don Diego, Morón y Beatriz in the following scene: MORÓN: BEATRIZ:

¿Tan de mañana? Por Dios que a decirlo ha madrugado. […] Galán, ¿adónde tan de mañana camina?

[El astrólogo..., Jornada I, p. 234]

The second act begins where the previous one left off. There are two allusions that indicate that morning has now passed (“conmigo se declaró esta tarde” — p. 244 — ; “carta suya he tenido esta tarde” — p. 249 — ), and one reference that it is now night, since “Salen Violante, y Quiteria con luz en una bugía” (p. 252). However, at some unspecified moment in these two acts there is a break of two months, the time that Don Juan has been secretly seeing Doña María, and of which we are informed by Don Diego: DIEGO: VIOLANTE:

Si es el que yo imagino, no ha dos meses cabales que está ausente. Es verdad.

[El astrólogo..., Jornada II, p. 250]

The third act begins, supposedly, the following day, as the feigned loss of the jewel takes place “entre las once y las doce”. Finally, Morón requires Otáñez to come to the garden “en hilo de las doce” (p. 260) — which we can logically assume to mean midnight — and it is at this time that the action ends. At no point, however, is this supposition supported by words allusive to darkness. The lack of specific notes about the localisation of El astrólogo... means that, as is the case with time, we have to turn to the dialogues for enlightenment. From these, we deduce that there are six different Madrid locations where the events 22. Don Juan arrives at this house “between twelve and one”, or at least, this is what Morón affirms in the second jornada (p. 238).

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

take place: the house of Doña María, the garden of this house, the house of Don Carlos, the house of Violante, the house of Don Diego and a street. All these, except the garden, appear in the first act, and, in the absence of further information, they help us determine the position of the characters: D. DIEGO:

A la puerta suya está. […] Llegaré allá sin cuidado; y pues no nos vio a los dos. yo te esperaré en la esquina desta calle.

D. DIEGO:

Mira si sale a Misa, que quiero irla siguiendo a la iglesia.

[El astrólogo..., Jornada I, p. 234]

[El astrólogo..., Jornada I, p. 236]

In these two examples, the place where the action takes place is, clearly, the street; in a very few other cases, a stage note is added with an identical function: [Doña María y Beatriz con mantos] (Jornada II, p. 237). This wide variety of spaces means that the work of Calderón does not, obviously, respect the unity of place, and nor, as we have just seen, does it respect that of time. Dryden, for his part, stands out initially for his precision in signalling the place and time of the action, which he makes clear even before the title of the work: “The scene is in Madrid in the Year 1665. The Time, the last Evening of the Carnival”.23 However, he is less precise as the work advances; he does not give it clear space-time references, nor does he respect the unity of time, quite the opposite: its locations are very varied, from the street to various houses, and to the gardens of these. Thus the first act is situated in the calle del Prado in the evening: “What think you of the Prado this Evening?” (p. 289). This exterior location is reinforced by the following two notes: [Theodosia and Jacintha and Beatriz, their woman, passing by] and [They pull up their Vails, and pull ‘em down again] (p. 298), and by the commentary of Beatrix: “[They] are going to the next Chapel with their Father” (p. 301). The second scene of this first act is situated in a chapel, a translator’s own creation. Wildblood and Bellamy are waiting for the ladies when they come out, and then the action suddenly passes to their house, as Beatrix makes 23. This unusual precision may be due to a desire to make it clear that the two English gentlemen who are the protagonists of the work were in fact the two nobles who accompanied Sir Richard Fanshawe (the then English ambassador) to Madrid the same year that the work was first performed, given that both are presented as “feathers of the English Embassador’s Train” (Act I, scene one) (Loftis 1973: 107).



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

clear when she announces that their father is looking for them all over the house (p. 311). However, the next scene is once more in the street: Bellamy lifts Theodosia’s cloak (p. 313), and a serenade is heard that Theodosia and Jacintha contemplate from the balcony (p. 321). The third act begins in the house of Bellamy, who is receiving there, in his guise of astrologer, a client who is announced by Maskall: “A fair Lady, and her Woman, wait in the outer room to speak with you” (p. 325). The action is thus shared between outdoor and indoor scenes which alternate, irregularly, throughout the work. The indoor scenes are divided between the chapel and the houses of Don Lopez, Don Alonso, Bellamy and Aurelia, to which must be added the lodgings of Wildblood (p. 348) and the garden house of the home of Don Alonzo (p. 368), these last two absent in Calderón. As for the outdoor scenes, besides the street scenes there are various gardens, belonging to Doña Aurelia and Don Alonzo, in which the most outlandish adventures take place. The translator does, however, respect the unity of time, the action taking place, as the title correctly states, in an afternoon. This is anticipated by Bellamy at the beginning of the second act: “What think you of the Prado this Evening?” (p. 289). We shall have to wait until the end of this act for the light to fail (“By this light, which at present is scarce”, p. 321), and preparation is made for the scene of the fight, which, as Maskall tells us, takes place at night: “They were assaulted in the dark by Foreigners” (p. 322). There are no more allusions to time until the third act, when Wildblood exclaims: “Madam, what happy Star has conducted you hither to-night?” (p. 338). Subsequently, the scene in which Aurelia confronts the supposed ghost of Melchior is introduced by a note which announces the presence of lights (p. 348). In the fifth act, Aurelia complains what a nuisance the “Evening’s Air” is (p. 366), and Don Melchior makes it clear to Theodosia that he wishes to “make my peace with you before I slept” (p. 368). We thus approach the last minutes of the night before the end, after the conclusion of the nocturnal garden scene and the wedding celebrations. The changes in time distribution between the original text and the translation are very clear in the loss of the jewel of Doña María / Theodosia. The first thought she had lost it “entre las once y las doce”; the second makes it clear that, in her case, it was “betwixt six and seven this Evening” (Act IV, p. 351). Apparently Dryden, like Tuke, wanted to bring the time of the action as close as possible to the real time of performance. No puede ser el guardar una mujer and its two translations: Tarugo’s Wiles and Sir Courtly Nice, or It Cannot Be Moreto’s work, too, ignores the unities of place and time. The action is situated mainly in three places: a street and the houses of Doña Ana Pacheco and Don Pedro, certain parts of which are detailed. Thus, of Doña Ana’s house we know the

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

sitting room and gallery, while Don Pedro’s has an anteroom, sitting room, courtyard passage, garden and “galería baja con ventana a otra habitación” (Jornada III, p. 204). Sydserf pays little attention to this aspect; indeed, he only mentions three locations: the garden, which has a door that leads to Tarugo’s quarters, Tarugo’s room and the popular coffee-house. We suppose, therefore, that the rest of the situations take place in more or less the same locations indicated by Moreto, and we can conclude the same for Sir Courtly…, although Crowne informs us throughout of the different locations: apart from those referred to by the Spanish playwright, which are respected (garden included), the translator introduces new ones: “Covent Garden Square” and “Sir Courtly’s Chamber” (Act III). The stage time of No puede ser…is distributed regularly: twenty-four hours for the first two jornadas and twelve for the last; the first two, however, are consecutive, while between the second and the third there is a gap of eight days: D. FÉLIX:

Ocho días ha que aquí estoy, Tarugo, escondido, y una hora me ha parecido.

[No puede ser…, Jornada III, p. 204]

Despite this, time references are rare: thus we do not know the precise moment when the first act starts, as it is not until the end that Moreto makes a first allusion, in the words of Don Pedro: “Lleva luz, que quiero ya / recogerme” (p. 193). In the second act, Don Pedro discovers the polemical portrait in the morning (p. 196), and Tarugo intends to be in the garden until midnight (p. 199). Finally, we know that the events that take place prior to the dénouement are nocturnal; if not the words of Tarugo would be nonsense: “Sabiendo que a mí me mata / el ver mujeres de noche” (p. 206). It is much more difficult to distribute the time in Tarugo’s Wiles, as the references are even fewer. It can be deduced that the first two acts take place on the same day. In the second act, Hurtante informs us that the best time to find Tarugo is in the mornings in the coffee shop, and so we can assume that the third act, which takes place entirely in the coffee shop, occurs the following morning. Apart from this, the eight days that Don Félix spent in hiding are here reduced to a single night (p. 44), so that the fifth act begins the next morning, making a total of fortyeight hours plus an indeterminate period of time the following day. Crowne, too, is parsimonious in giving clues that would help situate the action, although it may be assumed that Acts I and II take place in the morning, as at the end of the second a visit of Sir Courtly is announced for “this Afternoon” (p. 41). Our conception of time is strengthened in Act IV, when we are given the exact time.



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

BELLGUARD: What a Clock is it? TESTIMONY: Truly, I do believe it is about Four. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act IV, p. 67]

Immediately afterwards, Sir Courtly makes his entrance with exquisite punctuality. At the end of Act IV, Bellguard orders dinner for his guest, Sir Thomas (Crack), who opens Act V in his room. Leonora’s visit to him is revealing: “My Aunt and Brother are gone abroad, and won’t come home until Noon” (p. 83). The premature arrival of the brother changes the course of events, although the action ends that night. The play thus develops over a period of a single day, as it concentrates events and omits the nights that Don Félix spends in the house in hiding, meeting in this way the requirements of the unity of time. It is impossible to draw general conclusions regarding the treatment of the unities in the translation of Siglo de Oro plays. The non-observance of the unities in the original works eases the task of the translators, and their works are similarly careless of the unities of action and place. The localisation of scenes, generally poorly signalled in the Spanish texts, is respected in all the translations (except for the incorporation of new places chosen by the translator, such as the coffee-house or the square of Covent Garden, among many others), but they are most numerous and detailed in The Adventures…, Elvira, or… and An Evening’s Love, perhaps due to the more relaxed approach to the Spanish texts of Sydserf and Crowne in the remaining translations. The Spanish playwrights, except Coello, do not respect the unity of time, unlike Tuke, Dryden and Crowne, the first two in an apparent search for absolute realism. Finally, it should be pointed out that the space-time references in the original texts are inserted principally into the dialogue, although on occasions they are included in notes, which are in all cases the preferred vehicle of the translators for this task. 3.3.3 The treatment of verse GENT: That’s whether it be set off with Blank verse, Rhyme or Prose. P. SERV: My Master is no Arithmetician, and so defies all numerical composition. GENT: This is the first Poet that ever I heard of, cou’d not make verse; but how shall the Expectations of the Audience and the Musick be prepar’d at the ending of Acts? P: SEV: I am appointed with an Engine to do that. GENT: Which way? P: SERV: This way. (The poet man takes out a Rattle and whirles it about his Head)

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

PLAY: Slife, I think this Prose Poets fancy will take; for if I be not mistaken, a Rattle will be better understood by a great many here than the best kind of Rhyme. (Sydserf: The Prologue to Tarugo’s Wiles)

Sydserf gives vent to his sarcasm through the three characters who deliver the prologue to the edition of Tarugo’s Wiles (Gentleman, Player and Poets Man). In this way he makes clear, too, his position as to the mode of expression he will use in the comedy here announced: prose. Sydserf does not even make a concession to a practice that was by no means rare in Restoration drama: that of concluding each act with a couplet, in the Elizabethan style. Crowne, too, in his translation of the work of Moreto, opted for prose, although he kept the traditional rhyming couplets at the end of each act, which he uses not only as a closure, but as a kind of conclusive verdict on some aspect developed in the plot. Thus, at the end of the first act, Bellguard reflects on the need to keep women well-protected, while to close the third he gives his opinion on female honour: BELLGUARD: Woman, like China, shou’d be kept with Care, one Flaw debases her to common Ware. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act I, p. 27] BELLGUARD: Whilst she enjoys it, ‘tis not seen or known, and yet when lost she’s utterly undone. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act III, p. 63]

In this way the two English writers solved one of the problems facing all those who undertake the translation of the comedia: the complex variety of their metric forms, which reflect the space, time, and context of the lines, and the character pronouncing them. The speakers, depending on their rank, will vary the type of verse used and adjust it to the dramatic situation. Romances, redondillas, quintillas, décimas… abound in Siglo de Oro theatrical texts; the redondilla is the form preferred for factual dialogue, both in moments of dramatic conflict and in more humorous situations, although the romance vies with the redondilla in this function; the romance is preferred for accounts of feelings, in which the author tries to provoke a favourable reaction in the listener, but it is employed for lyrical and comical asides and soliloquies. Décimas predominate in the monologues, and are not infrequent in lovers’ laments in the form of a gloss; octavas are hardly used for comic dialogue, while sonetos are preferred for lyrical soliloquy etc. Furthermore, each verse has its own phonological properties (rhythm, pitch, tone, rhyme) which may be affected by a variety of metric phenomena (apocopation, syncope…), all in the context of a specific syntactic structure. Finally, the many rhetorical figures the stanzas may contain must also be taken into account: they may seek to achieve effects of sound (alliteration), syntax (hyperbaton, anaphora) or style (metaphor,



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

hyperbole, metonomy, circumlocution), etc. It is hardly surprising, therefore, that faced with such complexity some translators simply did away with the original version, not only for questions of time or literary ability, but also to prevent English audiences from hearing their characters express themselves in such an apparently artificial fashion. Obviously, the formal and stylistic loss involved is tremendous. Our translators were therefore faced with the dilemma of whether to respect the original form or to recast it to make it more acceptable.24 In the second case, the choice was between opting for a less troublesome form (prose) or selecting a kind of verse more familiar to the Anglo-Saxon audience, such as the blank verse that had dominated English classical theatre since Shakespeare. We have already seen how Crowne and Sydserf chose prose, as did Dryden; Tuke and Digby, for their part, opted for other ways to express original metrics and syntax. As he did with the three unities, Dryden made his position on the use of play verse clear in Essay of Dramatick Poesie (1668): “For the way of writing Playes in verse, which I have seemed to favour, I have since that time laid the practice aside, will I have more leisure, because I find it troublesome and slow” (1668: 1). In this way he put on record the difficulty involved in writing in verse and the abandonment of the practice “since that time”, a time reference that alludes to the Great Plague of London, which had occurred three years earlier. Moreover, Dryden makes clear his rejection of rhyme in the theatre, considering it unnatural: Rhyme is unnatural in a Play, because Dialogue there is presented as the effect of sudden thought. For a play is the imitation of Nature; and since no man, without premeditation speaks in Rhyme, neither ought he to do it on the Stage […] Rhyme in uncapable of expressing the greatest thoughts naturally, and the lowest it cannot with any grace: for what is more unbefitting the Majesty of verse, then to call a servant, or bid a door be shut in Rhyme? (Dryden 1668: 47)

An Evening’s…was first performed in 1668, the same year as Dryden published his Essay…. By then, he had renounced the use of verse and given his opinion as to the employment of rhyme in drama. It is not surprising, therefore, that he wrote An Evening’s Love in prose, despite the couplets at the end of the acts. As in Crowne, these couplets contain a reflection of some kind, whether on the condition of woman: 24. Certain nineteenth-century English translators, such as the already mentioned D. F. McCarthy, opted for an exact imitation of Spanish forms. Although an admirable virtuoso exercise, the constant archaisms and syntactic inversions produced a degree of phonetic rejection. In the twentieth century, Roy Campbell experimented with paired hendecasyllables in comedy translation, but these could sound ridiculous to English ears (Dixon 1989: 18). Campbell also used the English iambic octosyllable for his Fuente Ovejuna, but this metre, used in English for satire, on many occasions had an effect totally different from that of the original (McGaha 1989: 83).

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

BELLAMY:

We will attempt the Mistress by the Maid: Women by Women still are best betray’d. [An Evening’s Love, Act I, p. 306]

Or on courtship: D. LOPEZ:

Success, in Love, on Diligence depends; No lazy Lover e’er attain’d his Ends. [An Evening’s Love, Act II, p. 323]

Dryden, however, also makes occasional use of the couplet in the middle of an act or immediately before a change of scene, and always for parody: BELLAMY: Meaning I should not be lov’d again. THEODOSIA: You have interpreted my Riddles, and may take it for your Pains. [An Evening’s Love, Act I, p. 303] JACINTHA:

Adieu; for this time I wipe off your Score, Till you’re caught tripping in some new Amour. [An Evening’s Love, Act III, p. 341]

WILDBLOOD: That is all Eyes, and no Tongue; Et la lune, & les estoiles… you know the Song. [An Evening’s Love, Act IV, p. 345]

Digby, for his part, is closer to the text of Calderón, and shows more concern for metrics; this is reflected in his choice of blank verse, which, although not subject to rhyme, obeys the restrictions of syllable count and accented rhythm.25 The type of blank verse preferred by Digby is hendecasyllabic, sometimes combined with heptasyllables and octosyllables: JUAN: Y hablando, no en lo pasado, pues ya no tiene remedio,

JUL: Last remedies, in my judgement, are not to be used till easier have been try’d; had this

sino en lo presente, vamos lo que ha de ser previniendo. donde mejor esta dama

strange accident be thoroughly examin’d in all its circumstances and that from thence she were convicted guilty,

estará, es en un convento.

nought else were to be thought on but a cloister. [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 419]

[No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 105]

25. In this way it is different from free verse, which is not subject to rhyme or to a regular distribution of accents and pauses, nor to the requirements of syllable count. Blank verse became the principal vehicle of expression of sixteenth-century English dramatic poetry, and was employed by writers of the stature of Shakespeare, Milton and Wordsworth, among others.



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

The above is a clear example of how the original romance is transformed into blank verse in the target text. The first consequence of this is a loss of rhythm and agility, which the translator attempts to overcome by other methods, such as the rupture of monologues and of scenes, as we have already mentioned. As well as this, Digby alternates slow, solemn passages with conversation, combining eloquence and wit, and so holding the spectator’s attention: ELVIRA: BLANCA: FRANCISCA: BLANCA: FRANCISCA: BLANCA:

I am more lost than any by my own. Accus’d Don Zancho, what occasion e’er gave Elvira to thy mad intrusion? Unless disdain and scorn incentives are, to make men’s passions more irregular. Ah, matchless rigour of the Powers Above! Not only to submit our honour’s fate unto the vanity of those we love, but to the rashness even of those we hate. Ah, the traitor! What can this mean? Was this thy sweet pretension at Madrid, drawn out in length, and hind’ring thy return? Thy fair pretence, thou should’st have said, false man. For love’s sake, madam, what can move you thus? For hate’s sake, say, and for revenge, Francisca. [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 450]

The lone lament of Elvira is followed by a rapid conversation between Doña Blanca and the maid, which breaks the sobriety of the monologue. It is of interest, too, that in the final lines of Elviras’s discourse Digby employs an original combination of rhymes not found elsewhere in the play (occasion-intrusion, are-irregular, above-love, fate-hate). Digby also uses couplets to conclude each act, but he does not reserve them solely for this function: the characters usually end their more reflective interventions with this type of stanza, independently of their rank. These words of the maid Francisca are an example: FRANCISCA:

Allow me once to be sententious; It is a thing that always was, and is, and ever will be true, to the world’s end: that, as in courts of justice, none can carry on business well without a procurator; So none in princes’ courts their suits make surer, than those that work them by the best procurer. [Elvira, or…, Act III, p. 459]

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Similarly, Elvira concludes a number of her soliloquies in this way: LEO: Recatándose de mí, siempre Beatriz e Inés andan. Una salió fuera, y otra, aquí debe de esperarla; quiero dar lugar, pues sé en qué estos secretos paran, a que hablen. Yo me acuerdo cuando salía de mi casa tener el mismo recato, y la misma confianza de unas y de otras que entonces me servían. Basta, basta, memoria; y pues ahora sirves, Leonor, oye, mira y calla. [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 132]

ELV: Such flatteries to those I trusted least, such pretty employments found to busy those I would be rid of, and such arts as these to single out her confident, un-noted, I well remember would Elvira use, whilst the unquiet joys of love possess’d her, how innocent soever. And besides, Francisca’s sitting up so late last night, and going up and down so warily, whilst others slept, is evidence enough what god reigns here, as well as at the court. But I forget myself — let descants cease, who serves, though she observes, must hold her peace. [Elvira, or…, Act IV p. 465]

Again the rhythm of the translation is appreciably more deliberate than that of the Spanish romance. Finally, Tuke also chooses blank verse for his translation of Los empeños..., with the obvious stylistic transformations that this decision entails. On occasions he seems to be paraphrasing the original text, though almost always giving greater weight to the content, as can be observed from the first lines of the English play: CARL: Ya prima te traigo aquí a mi hermana. POR: Dios te guarde: con ella estaré esta tarde, ya que estoy siempre sin mí. [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 105]

CAR: Sister, I thought my Sister’s company would not displease you, whilst I wait upon your Brother in a visit. POR: Sir, you oblige me with a welcome favour; I rather should have styled it Charity, [The Adventures..., Act I, p. 50]

There is a clear wish on the part of the translator to give greater detail to the dialogue, even when this means sacrificing part of the information to maintain the form of the Spanish text. This can be seen in the treatment of the rhetorical questions that, in the form of litotes, Nise asks in Los empeños…: NISE: ¿Tú no ves a quién adoras? ¿Tú no miras a quién quieres? ¿Él no sabe si tú mueres? ¿Él no escucha si tú lloras?

NI: Have you not known that Object of your Love? And entertained the Person you esteem? Have you not heard, and answered to his Sighs? Has he not borne his part in all your Cares? [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 106] [The Adventures…, Act I, p. 53]



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

Tuke insists in trying to reproduce the style of Coello, if not in the type of verse, at least conserving certain rhetorical figures, as the following attempt to express the chiasm of the source text: POR: Cualquier mal es el más fuerte, que haré, di, para librarme, pues es mi muerte el casarme y el no casarme es mi muerte. [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 106]

POR: Two such Extremes of Ill, no Choice admit; Each seems the worst; on which Rock shall I split? Since if I marry, I cannot survive; And not to marry; were to Die alive. [The Adventures…, Act I, p. 53]

Also, Tuke tries as far as possible to imitate the syntax of the original comedies, an arduous task given the greater syntactic flexibility of Spanish. He determines, therefore, to maintain the intricacies of the text, at the same time ensuring that it does not become incomprehensible; this means that his word order differs from normal English usage. The same purpose may be perceived in the sometimes disproportionate use of commas, intended, perhaps, to assist the actors in recitation and correct placement of emphasis: NISE: Pared en medio vivimos, y engendró la vezindad. más que el deudo, voluntad en las dos, que siempre fuimos aun más que primas las dos muy amigas. [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 105] CES: Mira, Arnesto, que sin duda, la calle erraste, o la casa. ARN: Bueno, la casa es de Enrique esta, y la calle que llaman de las Armas, si en las señas pude esta tarde acertarlas ¿habiendo ya estado en ella cómo quieres que la errara? [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 120]

CAM: Methinks, ‘tis pity that a Wall should make The Houses two, of Friends so entirely one, As you, and I, and our two Brothers are. [The Adventures…, Act I, p. 50]

ANT: This looks but oddly; are you sure Ernesto, you’ve not misguided me to a wrong House? ERN: If you are sure, Sir, that we are awake, then I am certain this is the same House, wherein this Afternoon, I saw, and spoke with don Enrique, and your Bride. [The Adventures…, Act III, p. 91]

Apart from the excess of commas and a disorderly syntax (especially in the first case), it can be appreciated in both cases how Tuke looks for agility through the use of enjambment. This style of translation met with the criticism of Dryden, who made the following comment in his Essay on Dramatick Poesie:

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Is there anything in rhyme more constrained than this line in blank verse? I Heaven invoke, and strong resistance make where you see both the clauses are unplaced naturally; that is, contrary to the common way of speaking, and without the excuse of a rhyme to cause it; yet you would think me very ridiculous, if I should accuse the stubbornness of blank verse, and not rather the stiffness of the poet. (Dryden 1668: 50)

Dryden is clearly referring to Samuel Tuke and to line 302 of the first act of The Adventures…. It seems to have been these criticisms that led Tuke to revise his work for the third edition, in which he corrected thirty lines and inserted 333 new ones, half of them grouped in couplets (Gaw 1917: 58). As the various examples show, ten-syllable blank verse is the most frequently used in this translation, although irregular verses, generally with fewer syllables, are occasionally interwoven. Also, Tuke employs the couplet on many more occasions than the other translators do:26 apart from their use at the end of an act, or to finish a speech with a flourish, they sometimes appear consecutively in debates and short monologues.27 This can be appreciated from the following intervention of Porcia, a reflection that is absent from Coello’s text: PORCIA:

My heart is so oppressed, with fear and grief, that it must break, unless it finds relief, the man I love, is forced to fly my sight, and like a Parthian, kills me in his flight, one whom I never saw, I must embrace, or else destroy the honour of my Race. [The Adventures…, Act I, p. 50]

The repetitive effect achieved with these couplets contrasts with the rest of the verses, and so concentrates the spectator’s attention on the discourse; further, this distribution of verses recalls heroic drama,28 which, oddly enough, became very popular in the first years of the Restoration. Despite all this, however, the sprightly verses of the Spanish original on most occasions acquire a very formal tone in English. The dialogue is not so agile, and not only because of metrics but also due to the translator’s taste for metaphorical allusions: 26. Gaw (1917: 41) counted, on the third edition, 3,048 lines, of which 124 are couplets. This amounts to 4.6 % of the total number. 27. See the above mentioned study by Allison Gaw for a more detailed analysis of these 82 lines distributed throughout the work in a variety of situations. 28. This type of dramatic composition, of which Dryden’s Conquest of Granada (1670–1) is the best example, is characterised by the employment of pompous language in an exotic setting, with an aim to express a certain epic grandeur.



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

OCT: Ea amigo, aquí estoy yo. POR: ¡Octavio entró, yo estoy muerta! CES: ¡Ha buen amigo! ENR: ¡Ha traidores! CAR: Que entrasen los otros. OCT: Mueran. CAR: Llama a los criados. ENR: Hola, Silvio, Floro. POR: Apenas acierto a mover las plantas. […] QUA: Bien se deben de tirar porque las espadas suenan lindamente. CRIADO: Muerto soy. [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 117]

OC: Courage, brave Friend; you have Octavio by you. ANT: So seconded, a Coward would grow firm. HEN: What! Is there more of your Crew? Then ‘tis time To call for help; Ho! Sylvio, Geraldo, Pedro, come forth, and bring out Torches with you. […] DIE: Their Swords do clatter bravely in the dark. SYL: I’m slain. [The Adventures…, Act III, p. 83]

Coello chose a very sprightly metre, well suited to this kind of situation, which in practice approximates to prose. Tuke, like his colleague Digby, fell short of this dynamism, and he suffers from a perhaps too obvious effort to achieve clarity and intensity. 3.3.4 The stage directions Faced with a theatrical text, one appreciates a clear difference between dialogue, on the one hand, and on the other the voice of the author. This is shown in the form of stage notes referring to objects, gestures, movements, etc., and which present linguistic features markedly different from those of dialogue.29 Bobes Naves (1997: 174) differentiates between acotación, or notes on the dialogue in the written text that do not pass verbally to the stage, and didascalias, which do pass verbally to the stage. For his part, Patrice Pavis defines notes as any text “not uttered by actors and actresses and intended to facilitate the reading or performance of a play” (1998: 25). They thus differ from didascalia, a broader notion that includes the different markers present at all levels of the text. This means 29. The traditional distinction between “main text” and “secondary text” to refer to the dialogue and the stage notes, respectively, might not be the most appropriate given the hierarchical character of both terms (Bobes Naves 1997: 178; García Barrientos 2001: 42). In fact, the dialogue text may be just as important as the stage directions.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

that a distinction can be made between didascalias explícitas (stage notes, identification of characters, etc.) and didascalias implícitas, or didascalic elements integrated into the dialogues of the characters, although both conform what is known as texto espectacular. In this section we shall turn our attention to the stage directions, the different types that are found in the originals, and the way in which they have been transferred to the English texts.30 For a potential performance, stage notes may be considered an essential part of the work, although, obviously, they may be respected ad litteram, ignored or, even, be interpreted or applied in a contrary sense to that proposed.31 This dual possibility may also be adopted by the translators of dramatic works: they may remain faithful to the author and respect the notes, or they may opt to change them to clarify the text or achieve a more original reading. In general, the stage directions to the Spanish texts studied here are scanty and do not contain much information, in contrast to the stage notes in the translations, much more numerous and richly detailed. The stage notes of the four pieces that constitute the source texts are divided into five main blocks: notes that mark the entrances, exits, and asides of the actors and actresses; those referring to dress, hairstyle and makeup; those that allude to objects and accessories used; those that mark the action and position of the characters on the stage; and, finally, those indicating the gestures and the tone that the performers should adopt in different circumstances.32 The innumerable cases in which the notes become part of the dialogue of the target text, or vice versa, will not be studied in this section; however, those that are either translated into other notes, or are omitted, will be considered, as will those that are the translator’s own creation and have no counterpart in the source language. Of the five groups mentioned above, the first is without doubt the most numerous, and also the most uniform from the translation point of view, as we find the following equivalences in all cases: [Salen]→ [Enter]; [Vanse]→ [Exit] — exceptionally we find in Spanish the verb “retirarse” to indicate that the characters leave the stage (El astrólogo..., p. 248), and, sporadically in the translations of this same function: [Flora retires] (Los empeños..., p. 77) — ; [Vanse todos] → [Exeunt omnes]; [Aparte] → [Aside]. There are no references in either the source or target texts to 30. In this respect, Törnqvist (1991: 27) distinguishes between “stage directions” and “acting directions”. The Spanish term acotaciones escénicas perfectly covers both the English ones. 31. Bobes Naves (1997: 174) points out that a stage director has more freedom in replacing stage directions by references, but not so much in the case of didascalias, as discordance between what is said in the dialogue and what is happening on stage would not be acceptable. 32. This division reflects a desire for clarity in the contrastive analysis between English and Spanish stage notes. There are, of course, other classification criteria, as García Barrientos notes (2001: 48–51).



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

the direction the actors should take on leaving the stage, “left” or “right”, which may pose a problem, today at least, for the translator, depending on how he/she interprets this indication: this can be done from the perspective of the actor or that of the audience, a circumstance that varies according to the theatrical concepts of each nation (Mateo 1997: 108). It should be observed that the position of the stage directions marking exits and entrances does not always coincide in the source and target texts, especially where a scene or dialogue is inserted, thus changing the course of events and the structure of the text. The same is true of the asides, of which there are many examples in both languages and whose purpose is to establish complicity with the audience. In the Spanish plays notes regarding hairstyle and makeup are non-existent, while details about dress, though not numerous, tend to be repetitive, and correspond to the convention of introducing costume in the theatre of this time. Regarding the garments of women, the veil, used to cover the face out of modesty or to arouse the interest of men, is the most frequent. As for those of men, the most often mentioned is the traje de camino, which allows the audience to locate the action (in this case outdoors), followed by the cape, with which they could cover themselves up. In Los empeños de seis horas, there are only three notes relating to dress, and none of them is transferred to the target language: [Salen Porcia, Flora y Nise, con mantos] (Jornada I, p. 105). [Cúbrese] (referido a Porcia) (Jornada I, p. 110). [Salen Don César, y Camilo criado, de camino] (Jornada I, p. 111).

The only note of this kind in The Adventures… refers to the change between Camila and Porcia: [Porcia takes off Camila’s veil, and puts it on herself] (Act I, p. 61). No siempre… contains five such notes, three of them translated: [Salen Don Carlos y Fabio, vestidos de camino] (Jornada I, p. 67) → [Enter Don Fernando, and at another door his Servant Fabio, both in riding-cloaths] (Act I, p. 447). [Leonor vestida pobremente, con manto] (Jornada I, p. 88) → [Enter a Page with a letter, and Elvira; the Page presents the letter to Blanca, she addresses herself to Elvira, and she throws up her veil] (Act I, p. 451). [Salen Don Pedro y Ginés, de camino] (Jornada I, p. 92) → [Enter Don Zancho and Chichon, his Man, in riding-habits] (Act I, p. 451).

It can be seen from these three examples that the English notes, even without giving details of the clothing of the characters, are lengthier. Digby includes an additional one about Don Zancho: [Enter Don Zancho with his cloak over his face] (Act IV, p. 465), a posture that corresponds to that of embozado in other Spanish plays of the kind.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

This same tendency is observed in notes on dress in No puede ser… and in Sydserf ’s translation, Tarugo’s Wiles, as in all cases there is a clear correspondence, although the English work does give more information: Sale Tarugo, de sastre, con un envoltorio de ropas y alhajas. [No puede ser…, Jornada I, p. 192]

Enter Tarugo disguis’d like a Taylor with several Indian-Stuffs. [Tarugo’s…, Act I, p. 11]

The same can be said of Tarugo when he disguises himself as a returned emigrant. On this occasion Crowne also respects the note: Enter Tarugo, de caba­ llero, con hábito de Santiago, botas y espuelas. [No puede ser…, II, p. 197]

Enter Tarugo, in the habit of a Knight, with his Servants Laden with Boxes. [Tarugo’s…, IV, p. 33]

Enter Crack, ridiculously dressed, attended byMen In the Habits of Siamites and Bantamers. [Sir Courtly…, III, p. 58]

John Crowne is, indeed, the translator who dedicates most notes to dress, especially because of the importance he gives to clothes as a source of comedy, sometimes combined with other elements. These notes are generally absent from the Spanish texts: [The Scene is drawn, and a Company of Crooked, Wither’d Ill-look’d Fellows are at breakfast] (Act I, p.  22); [Enter a Man dressed like a Merchant] (Act III, p. 56); [Crack pulls in Leonora vizarded] (Act V, p. 98), etc. In El astrólogo... there are four notes concerning apparel, three of which are not represented in English: sale Don Carlos [en traje de noche] (Jornada I, p. 232); Violante y Quimera [con mantos] (Jornada III, p. 255); y Otáñez [muy galán, con botas y espuelas] (Jornada III. p. 264). The remaining note is respected in part: [Salen delante Don Diego, Morón y Otáñez, y detrás Doña María, y Beatriz con mantos] (Jornada II, p. 237) → [They pull up their veils, and pull ‘em down again] (An Evening’s Love, Act I, p. 298).

Although in the specific case of An Evening’s… the Spanish notes are not faithfully reproduced in English, this apparent lack of rigour is compensated for by the presence of others that, throughout the target text, leave no doubt as to the character’s dress: [She pulls up her vail] (Act I, p.  301); [Bellamy lifts up Theodosia’s veil] (Act II, p. 313), etc. Moreover, Dryden situates the action in an evening of Carnival, and so there is a multiplicity of indications referring to the disguises or the clothing that the characters choose for this special occasion: [All masqued] (Act III, p. 335); [Enter Jacintha and Beatrix in their own shapes] (Act III, p. 338); [Enter Maskall in a Visor] (Act IV, p. 342); etc.



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

There are also few allusions in the form of notes to objects and accessories. In El astrólogo..., for example, a folder of letters and a light are introduced, which Dryden does not reproduce. In Los empeños... we find only two notes of this kind, but this time both are translated: [Salen Enrique y su criado con una luz y con las espadas desnudas] (Jornada II, p. 118) → [Enter Sylvio with his sward drawn] (Act III, p. 83). [Sale César con una luz, y ponla sobre un bufete] (Jornada III, p. 127) → [Enter Antonio with two lights, and sets them on the table] (Act IV, p. 110).

The notes are somewhat more numerous in The Adventures…, which incorporates to the scene “cups of chocolate” (absent from the original), “tablets” (“nota” in the Spanish text), and “chairs” for the musicians. The same occurs in Elvira, or…, where the notes introduce “a bason of flowers”, “a staff ”, “a stiletto” and “a couch” (on which Elvira reclines), all these without a parallel in the Spanish texts. Further, in this work the five notes referring to objects existing in the source text are more or less faithfully reproduced, probably on account of the importance these acquire in the course of the action: un papel (a paper), un bolsillo (a purse), la espada (sword) and la luz (lights). Mugs of chocolate, lights, daggers and swords are introduced in No puede ser… in the form of notes. We have the English version of one of these, again richer than the Spanish original: [Don Pedro y Tarugo salen envainando las espadas] (p. 200) → [Enter Patricio in a hurry, with two Servants towards Tarugo’s chamber, where Tarugo in his Gown meets ‘em with his Sword drawn] (Tarugo’s Wiles, p. 41).

Sir Courtly… maintains the swords, although to drink he prefers “wine and glasses” (p. 49), and to eat, “dishes”. The stage directions intended to explain or describe the progress of the action or the positioning of the actors are the most numerous group, and the most detailed: entrances and exits through various doors, instructions to hide, the direction characters should take, etc. Although their number is such that it would be impossible to reproduce all of them here, certain conclusions can still be drawn regarding how the translators have preferred to express them. Sometimes they translate them very closely: [Don Carlos mira por la cerradura] (No siempre…, p.  118) → [Fernando peeps through the key hole] (Elvira, or…, p. 461). [Suena dentro ruido de cuchilladas] (No puede ser…, p. 199) → [A noise of fighting without] (Tarugo’s Wiles, p. 37).

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

On other occasions, these notes are slightly fuller, as in the following example in Sir Courtly…, while Sydserf, in his Tarugo’s…, leaves the situation more open to various interpretations: Tarugo se arroja al suelo, figurando que le ha dado, mal de corazón. [No puede ser…, II, p. 201]

Tarugo counterfiets his fit.

[Tarugo’s…, IV, p. 33]

Crack throws himself on the Ground, and scrambles in distracted postures. [Sir Courtly…, p. 58]

III,

When the notes to the translated texts incorporate greater detail, this may be more or less brief and simple, or include more information than is given in the original: [Llama a la puerta] (No siempre…, p. 98) → [Knocks at Blanca’s door] (Elvira, or…, p. 452). [Descúbrese] (Los empeños..., p. 111) → [Lets fall his cloak from before his face] (The Adventures…, p. 69). [Beatriz leyendo un papel y, tras ella, Inés] (No siempre…, p. 84) → [Donna Blanca at one door, reading a paper with great marks of passion and disturbance; and her waiting-woman Francisca at another, observing her] (Elvira, or…, p. 450).

The stage directions may be more extensive with the aim of making clear the movements that accompany the action. This is the case in El astrólogo... and An Evening’s…, when Violante / Aurelia and their respective maids flee in fright from the vision of a knight who they fancy is a ghost: [Éntrase, y cierra la puerta] (Jornada II, p. 253) → [She rises up, overthrows the Table and Lights, and runs out. The Scene shuts] (Act IV, p. 349). A similar example is the scene in which Tarugo shows his merchandise to Doña Inés, a situation that Sydserf lengthens by indicating the successive movements: [Mostrando lo que trae] (No puede ser…, p. 193) → [Whilst he’s showing ‘em out he drops Horatio’s Picture, which Liviana takes up] (Tarugo’s Wiles, p. 12). Somewhat scarcer, however, are notes relevant not so much to movement as to the position the characters occupy on stage. Indeed, in No siempre…there are only two: [al paño] (p. 102) and [al umbral], (p. 116), and the same number in Los empeños…: [Sale Enrique, y Arnesto, y quédanse al paño] (Jornada I, p. 110) → ∅ [Sale Nise, Porcia, y Flora a una rexa] (Jornada II, p.  115) → [Camilla, Porcia, Flora appear in a balcony] (Act III, p. 80).



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

The appearance of the balcony, which means the translator presupposes the existence of a particular kind of stage, is repeated on page 84: [Camilla and Flora appear in the balcony]. Also, in Elvira, or… we find a scene in which the balcony is the protagonist, as Don Zancho and his servant have to use it to escape, which causes the lameness of the latter. Digby, aware of the comic possibilities of this scene, provides a wealth of detail as to how it should be performed: [Don Zancho and Chichon come out from behind the hanging, and follow her, as leading to the balcony]

Exeunt]

[And soon after Don Zancho and Chichon appear as in the balcony, and Francisca’s head as peeping out of the door into it] […] [Enter Fabio as in the street, and settling himself in a porch]

FAB: Here is a porch as if ‘twere built on purpose… [Fabio looking up, perceives them in the balcony]

[Elvira, or…, Act II, p. 456]

Nor does Dryden forget the balcony in his translation of El astrólogo.... In the second act of his Evening’s…, some musicians entertain Jacintha and Theodosia, situated at a higher level: [Theodosia and Jacinta above. acintha throws down her Handkerchief with a Favour ty’d to it] FAB: Musicians must be rewarded: There, Cavalier, ‘tis to buy your Silence. [Exeunt women from above] [An Evening’s Love, Act II, p. 321]

This didascalia is a clear example of how, on occasions, the translator ignores the original notes, or includes new ones that, in general, contain more information than is usual in Spanish plays. Among the most profuse is the fight scene in The Adventures… (Act V, p. 119 et seq.), where successive notes indicate, step by step, how events develop: [Diego and Flora go in]; [The chair being set in the door, Octavio goes out into the room]; [Pedro claps to the door and goes away], etc. The night scene in Elvira, or…is similarly significant in this respect:

Francisca takes one of the candles, and going before him stumbles, and falling puts out the light. Don Julio taking it up, lights it again at the other on the

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

table, and going with it himself towards Donna Blanca’s closet.

[Elvira, or…, Act IV, p. 467]

The length of this note means that much of the information contained in the original dialogue can be dispensed with, and thus the action becomes more dynamic and gains in agility. Sometimes, the movement and situation of the characters are complemented by notes alluding to the space in which the action takes place, or the décor: [Jardín, y al frente la casa de don Pedro] (No siempre…, p. 199) → [Liviana and Locura in the garden] (Sir Courtly…, p. 36). The number referring only to decor is lower in the Spanish comedies: The Adventures… has only one: [The rising moon appears in the scene] (Act III, p. 83), as does An Evening’s Love: [The scene is in the Garden, with an Arbour in it] (Act IV, p. 348). Tarugo’s Wiles and Sir Courtly…, as we have just seen, also have a garden. The greatest number is in Elvira, or…: [Scene changes to the prospect of Valencia] (Act II, p. 452); [Scene changes to a nice pleasant apartment] (Act III, p. 461); [A fine garden with orange trees and fountains], [They go and sit down under the palm-tree]; (Act IV, p. 464), filling the stage space with a Mediterranean atmosphere. It is in Digby’s work that the lengthiest note of all those included in the translations appears, and we shall reproduce it in full later. This description, which refers to a room in the house in which perfumes are being prepared from flowers from the garden, is remarkable for its wealth of detail. Finally, there are also notes referring to the manner of speaking of the actors or actresses, the tone they should adopt and even the pauses they should make. In the source texts we find only one note of this kind, in one of Calderón’s works: [Alzando la voz] (No siempre…, p. 135); in the translations, however, such allusions abound: [After a little pause] (The Adventures…, pp. 54, 72 y 92); [Pausing a while] (Elvira, or…, pp.  448, 475); [Whispers] (The Adventures…, p.  76; Elvira, or…, p. 454; An Evening’s…, pp. 300 y 353; Tarugo’s Wiles, p. 34); [Whining] (Elvira, or…, p. 468); [Laughing] (Sir Courtly…, p. 63); [Spoken with heat] (The Adventures…, p. 113); [Sighs] (An Evening’s…, p. 326); [With an affected chearfulness] (Elvira, or…, p. 475); [Jollily] (Elvira, or…, p. 472); [Ironically] (Elvira, or…, p. 477); [Feigns a foolish laugh] (Sir Courtly…, p. 72); [Returns with great fury] (Tarugo’s Wiles, p. 50); [With a kind of scornful accent] (Elvira, or…, p. 448), [Crying help, help!] (Elvira, or…, p. 468), etc. Not infrequently, these allusions to the manner of delivery are accompanied by indications as to gesture; as in almost all the cases analysed here, these are more common in the English translations than in the originals:



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

NISE: ¡Qué miro! CÉS: Es ilusión que me engaña [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 120]

ANT: Oh Heavens! What’s that I see; or do I Dream? [Antonio seeing her, starts, then stands as if amazed] [The Adventures…, Act III, p. 92]

The English version, however, places greater emphasis on the gestures the actor should adopt on discovering his loved one. Facial gestures, too, receive more attention in the notes to the translations: in The Adventures…, [Antonio turns from Octavio, and beholds him with a stern countenance] (p. 134), and a few lines later: [(He) looks sternly upon Octavio]. We also find notes of this kind in Elvira, or…, while there is only one in Calderón’s work, which is not translated: ([Sale Inés muy asustada], p. 135): [Don Julio starts back as it were amazed] (p. 450); [Smiling a little], (p. 459); [Don Julio showing some little surprize, but presently recovering], (p. 402); Blanca [with a furious countenance], (p. 471); etc. El astrólogo...is a similar case: there is only one note of this type — “Sale Beatriz asustada” (p. 264) — , while the number is greater in English: “Enter Don Alonzo, and frowns” (p. 316), etc. Apart from facial gestures, there are indications of other kinds of gestures in the translations depending on the context; thus, Blanca shows her nervousness and [fumbles in her sleeve] (Elvira, or…, p. 475); Don Julio, worried, [walks about the room pensively] (Elvira, or…, p. 456); Liviana [trades the stage in a high passion] (Tarugo’s Wiles, p. 10); Patricio [exits severely] (Tarugo’s Wiles, p. 2); Liviana [exits in anger] (Tarugo’s Wiles, p. 30); [Jacintha makes a sign of farewel to Wildblood] (An Evening’s Love, p.  338); Surly [flings away a glass] (Sir Courtly Nice, p. 49), etc. There are even moments when the gestures that are to accompany the dialogue are signalled before this happens. The following is a good example:

Don Zancho stands awhile and amaz’d, with folded arms. Chichon behind his master, holding up his hands, and making a pitiful face; Francisca steals to him, and holding up her hand threateningly.

[Elvira, or…, Act II, p. 454]

We do not mention here certain gestural notes that are typically Spanish, and which the English authors incorporate into their translations even when they are not present in the original, nor others that are pure inventions of the translators and exemplify how gestures may change the final version of a translation. We may conclude from this brief survey of the different types of stage directions in Spanish comedies and their expression in the target language that these

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

receive more attention from the translators than they are given by the Spanish playwrights. If the ingrained conventions of the Siglo de Oro made constant indications as to how the play should be staged, there was an equally strongly established tradition in Restoration theatre, and more sensitive in this respect. This is shown by the greater number of allusions to dress, décor and the tone adopted by actors and actresses and, most of all, to gestures and dramatic action, freeing the original dialogue of information and making the performance more agile. The translator therefore acts as a director, leaving no doubt that the work is intended to be performed. At the same time, it is also true that just as the English notes help in the staging of the work, they restrict the freedom of the stage manager, always assuming, of course, he chooses to respect them. 3.3.5 Prologues, epilogues, letters and songs Both the prologues and epilogues that accompany the five acts of the editions of English translations, as well as the songs introduced, are important for what they reveal about the particular concept of theatre of these playwrights. Also significant are the letters by which some characters communicate in certain circumstances. Meaningful conclusions can be drawn from these regarding the strategies employed by the English translators. Prologues and epilogues All the English Restoration comedies include, at least, a prologue and an epilogue, as this was the custom and what theatregoers expected. The prologue was delivered in front of the curtain, which then rose and did not fall again until the epilogue had concluded. Although some modern editions do not publish the prologue and epilogue of the works, as they were generally written for a specific occasion, both acquired considerable relevance, to the point where they became perfectly integrated with the rest of the text. The prologue (as was the case in classical French and German theatre) aimed, in general, to obtain the favour of a patron, noble or monarch, or to express an idea of the mission of art in general or of theatrical composition in particular; the epilogue on the other hand was typically used for a satirical commentary on the subject of the work just performed, or to extract the moral of the story, and it was usually pronounced by an actor who, having interpreted a particular character in the comedy, took the opportunity to give thanks to the audience and seek their benevolence. Epilogues seem to have been very popular in the first years of the Restoration, or so it would seem from the words of Mr. Smith, who pronounced the epilogue to The Adventures…: “But since that Epilogues are so much in vogue / take this as a Prologue to the Epilogue”.



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

One of the great difference between the editions of the Spanish comedias studied here and their English translations is, therefore, that these latter, with the exception of Elvira, or…, present a prologue and an epilogue, which the translators use for a wide variety of purposes. In his third edition of The Adventures…, Tuke included a preface, dedication, prologue and epilogue. The translator uses the preface, the lengthiest part and the only one of the four written in prose, to duly acknowledge the promoter of the translation, King Charles II, and to dedicate the work to the Queen, while excusing himself for any errors committed. These “errors” are precisely what justified a third edition, in which he sought total correctness given his respect for plays, which he defines thus: “For Plays being Moral Pictures, their chiefest Perfections consist in the Force and Congruity of Passions and Humours, which are the Features and Complexion of our Minds”. This reflection gives way to the dedication, pronounced by a colleague of Mr Tuke, Mr. Cowley, who praises his work as a translator and encourages him to continue with his dramatic activity, although leaving translation to one side and concentrating on original creations: We’ve seen how well you foreign Ores refine, Produce the Gold of your own Nobler Mine.

The last element before the play starts, the prologue, is delivered by the famous actor Mr. Betterton, who, like the previous speaker, is fulsome in his praise of an author whom he considers gifted with “good Will, Nature and Skill”. Finally, the performance ends with an epilogue in which two characters intervene: Mr Smith and Mr. Harris. The second of these, ironically, recalls the upheaval caused by a playwright who dared to introduce into the British Isles a new type of plot expressed in rhyme:

In this brave Licentious Age To bring his musty Morals on the Stage Rime us to Reason? And our lives redress In Meter; as Druids did the Savages!

The audacious author was none other than Tuke, recently criticised for his sources and his use of rhyming verse. Sydserf precedes his prologue with a dedication to the Marquis of Huntley, whom he thanks for his support. The last paragraph is most revealing, as the translator makes clear the aim of his work: My Lord, this same comical trifle, which I dedicate to your recreation, like most other plays, has its useful moralities. If the way I have used in ordering them to be satisfactory, I esteem myself happy, humbly begging your Honour wou’d be pleased

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

to accept it as a small part of the great Thankfulness I owe for the many Reliefs, Shelters and Protections, I received from your Family.

Tarugo’s Wiles thus sees the light as a comic piece with a moralising intent, which also aims to entertain the noble in gratitude for his favours. In the prologue itself, Sydserf speaks in the words of three characters (a gentleman, an actor and the author’s servant), and begs excuses for his boldness in writing a work that he knows will meet with the censure of the critics. He also reveals his conception of theatrical composition with regard to argument, metrics and the purpose of the comedy. The prologue, written in prose, ends with the entrance on stage of a poet friend of the author who summarises in a poem what has been said before. Sydserf is well aware that he is an unknown in the theatrical milieu of his time, and this explains why he continuously refers to himself as “a Stranger”. The epilogue, much briefer and also in prose, is delivered by someone whose identity is not revealed, but who enjoys the confidence of the author: “Our Poet bids me tell you…”. This unknown person begs the benevolence of the audience for the lack of experience of the author; should he not receive the applause he desires, let him at least not be booed. Whatever the case, If this prevail not, he hopes he’s safe from danger For Wit and Malice, ought not to reach a stranger.

Sir Courtly Nice also begins with a dedication full of praise for the sovereign and other nobles. The prologue and epilogue, in contrast to those of Tarugo’s Wiles, are in verse. In the prologue, the translator devotes some eulogistic words to the Queen and to England, which he describes as “Envy of the World”. Crowne also distances himself radically from Sydserf in content, as he does not seek to ingratiate himself with either public or critics. His couplets are basically a reflection on the glory of England:

To see that Valour crown’d with regal Power, They oft have seen with Laurels crown’d before. Verse is too narrow for so great a Name, Far sounding Seas hourly repeat his Fame.

The content of the epilogue is very different. Crowne begins by criticising the typical theatregoers of the time who were difficult to please and, in his opinion, lacking in the knowledge necessary to judge the merits of a work, thus conditioning the practice of dramatic art:

How often have I heard true Wit call’d Stuff, By Men with nothing in their Brains but Snuff? […] Our Plays it was impossible to bear,



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

The honest Country-men were forc’d to swear.

He also complains of the presence of prostitutes in the theatres, and of the gentlemen who go there in search of their favours rather than out of interest in the stage performance. Crowne concludes by reflecting on the loss of those values for which the theatrical space was created and which, we suppose, are those he had in mind in No puede ser…: For virtuous Liberty is pleas’d alone Promotes the Stage to th’ Ends at first design’d, As well to profit as delight the Mind.

Dryden, as one would expect, exploited to the maximum the opportunities prologue and epilogue offered him; he opens with a lengthy dedication, followed by an even longer preface, then a prologue and, finally an epilogue. The last two of these are verse compositions.33 His dedication to the Duke of Newcastle is full of praise for the virtue, valour and constancy of that noble knight. The Preface is of more interest, as here Dryden the theorist analyses various aspects of literature. Indeed, this prologue constitutes one of the most important articles of literary criticism of the period: none of his contemporaries managed to describe with such precision the scope of wit and humour, nor surpassed his method for evaluating plays. Moreover, having been accused of enmity towards Ben Jonson, Dryden took the opportunity to praise his literary production, at the same time making known his own conception of comedy. We have already seen how Sydserf and Crowne understood it as a means of entertainment with a moralising purpose. Dryden’s theory on the subject differs considerably, as for him “the first end of comedy is delight, and instruction only the second”; this is by no means to say that comedy is a minor genre or that in the creative process one needs not be as demanding in form and content as, for example, in tragedy. Entertainment and correctness would therefore be what the author sought to provide in An Evening’s Love. To achieve the first, he used all the resources of comedy that he had at his command; to achieve perfection, he distanced himself from the source text and added new characters and scenes that would result in a totally new composition. And yet the process did not finish here: When this is done, the forming it into acts and scenes, disposing of actions and passions into their proper places and beautifying both with descriptions, simili-

33. In Spain the loa, which might deal with a variety of subjects, also served as a prelude to the performance, although its purpose was more to win the benevolence of the audience by exaggeratedly flattering it , and to mark the commencement of the performance or spectacle (Huerta Calvo 2001: 50–51).

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

tudes, and propriety of language, is the principal employment of the poet; as being the largest field of fancy, which is the principal quality required in him.

Dryden continued with his reflections, though less intensely, in the prologue. This is an ironic complaint about the constant criticisms he had received recently from more purist critics who, after praising the poet (as had been his case) had no hesitation shortly afterwards in shamelessly ridiculing him. In view of this he wanted to make it clear that he would give those who criticised him their opportunity, but not too frequently, as he announced that his appearances would be limited to three per year:

As for the Poet of this present Night, Though now he claims in you a Husband’s Right, He will not hinder you of fresh Delight. He like a Seaman, seldom will appear; And means to trouble Home but thrice a Year.

This same tone is appreciated in the epilogue to An Evening’s Love, where Dryden attacks the critics through an unknown person who claims to be a friend of his, and defends himself against accusations of plagiarism. The friend relates that Dryden, when he heard of such offenses, reacted calmly:

He neither swore or storm’d, as Poets do But, most unlike an Author, vow’d ‘twas true. Yet said, he us’d the French like Enemies, And did not steal their Plots, bur made ‘em Prize.

Dryden, then, made use of all the opportunities of translation to defend himself, and most important, left on record his reflections on dramatic creation which, in the case that concerns us here, are revealed as dramatic translation. The letters The use of cartas, papeles or billetes was very common in Spanish Golden Age comedias.34 It was through these that lovers arranged trysts and communicated their feelings (in which case their servants acted as messengers), or a person of high rank presented himself to the gentleman of another house. These letters might be alluded to in the text or inserted in it and read aloud by a character to communicate their contents to the audience. In such a case the information thus revealed contrasts with the rest of the dialogue, as it is almost always expressed in prose and so augments the polyphony of the theatrical discourse. 34. These terms refer to different things: the billete is generally used for errands, while the carta accentuates the secret nature of the contents. The papel is the most widely used and its contents are heterogeneous (Garrido 1988: 185).



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

As a general rule letters have the function of introducing new characters and situations (sometimes comical), and this, as we shall see, meant that they were not omitted by the translators. With the exception of Los empeños..., in all the other Spanish comedies studied here a letter plays a part, two letters in the case of No siempre… and El astrólogo... A particular example is the papel written by Violante in El astrólogo..., since Don Diego dictates to the lady what she must write, and the result is in verse form: DON DIEGO: VIOLANTE: DON DIEGO:

Adonde estáis, venid aquesta noche a hablarme o iré donde estáis vos a descubrir maldades. Ya está puesto. Firmad.

[El astrólogo..., Jornada III, p. 250]

Hours earlier, Violante receives a farewell note from Don Juan, also in verse (Jornada II, p. 245), which Dryden does not mention. He does, however, translate the letter written by Violante, which Maskall reads aloud. Dryden does without rhyme, and decides to extend its content and give it a much more solemn tone, which, bearing in mind the context in which it is set, may well have a humorous intent: Don Melchior, if the Magick of Love have any Power upon your Spirit, I conjure you to appear this Night before me: You may guess the greatness of my Passion, since it has forc’d me to have recourse to Art: but no Shape which resembles you can fright. Aurelia. [An Evening’s Love, Act III, p. 331]

By the word Art, Aurelia is referring to the arts of astrology and feigned divination to which she turns to in order to obtain the speedy return of her beloved Don Melchior. In No siempre… the employment of missives for various purposes is referred to throughout the work, but on only two occasions do they appear on paper: the first on the occasion of the arrival of Don Diego in Valencia after his love affairs at Court; the second to announce the arrival of Don Pedro de Lara in Valencia. The content of the first letter, signed by Ginés and addressed to the object of don Diego’s love, is humorous, as it proves the droll’s betrayal of his master in sending such a paper to Doña Beatriz; the second, the purpose of which is to restore blemished honour, has more serious overtones. Doña Beatriz cannot suppress her pain on reading to her maid Inés the following letter sent by Ginés:

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Cumpliendo, señora, con la obligación de lo que ofrecí, que fue avisar de todo, hago saber a vuestra merced que en casa de una dama de esta Corte dejó por muerto a mi señor un caballero de una herida, de que estuvo dos días sin sentido y preso; y gracias a Dios está mejor y libre, y de partida para esa ciudad adónde... [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 86]

The translation reflects practically all the content of the original letter: Madam, to make good my engagements of concealing nothing from you during this absence of my master; I am bound to tell you, that some ten days since, late at night, he was left for dead, run through the body of another unknown gallant, in the chamber of a famed beauty of the court. Whilst the danger continued, I thought it not fit to let you know either the accident, or the occasion; which, now he is recovered, and thinking of his return to Valencia, I must no longer forbear. I hope you will have a care not to undo me for being more faithful to you, than to the master you gave me. Your creature Chichon. [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 450]

The reaction of the ladies to the reading of the letters varies significantly, however: while Doña Beatriz expresses, perhaps exaggeratedly, her pain, Doña Blanca is much more ironic: BLAN: No sé BEAT: Have I not a worthy gallant, think you? con qué estilos, con qué modos [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 450] pueda explicar mi dolor. [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 86]

Comparison of the two texts reveals two fundamental differences: the greater detail of the English letter, and its motivation. Although the intention in both cases is to inform of what has happened in Madrid, the English version suggests a droll in debt to the lady as a favour for having given him a master to serve. This aspect is not in the original, where the treacherous nature of Ginés or the expectations of obtaining certain favours of the lady may have been the motivation of his behaviour. Later, Don Pedro delivers a letter of introduction to Don Juan (signed by Marqués de Denia), asking his help to avenge the offence that Don Diego has caused his daughter: El señor don Pedro de Lara, mi pariente y amigo, va a esa ciudad en seguimiento de un hombre, de quien importa a su honor satisfacerse. Mi poca salud no me da lugar a acompañarle, pero fío que donde vos estáis no le hará falta mi persona; y así os digo que su ofensa es mía y su satisfacción corre por mi cuenta. Dios os guarde. El Marqués de Denia. [No siempre…, Jornada II, pp. 120–121]

Digby translates this as follows:



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

Don Pedro de Mendoza, my kinsman, and most particular friend, goes to Valencia in pursuit of one who hath highly injur’d his family; whose righting I am so much concerned in, as, could it have been done without too much publication of the thing, I would have accompanied him myself; but my presence will be needless in a place where you have power: I do therefore conjure you, and expect from your regard and kindness to me, that you employ it thoroughly in his behalf, and what service you shall do him, put it upon my account, whom you shall always find. Your most affectionate cousin to serve you, the Duke of Medina. [Elvira, or…, Act III, p. 461]

As in the previous case, there is more detail here, and the style is more ornate than in the original. Although the content of the letter is clearly rendered in the translation, there is a slight difference between the two: in the first the reasons why the Marquis cannot go to Valencia are given, while in the second the Duke laments the excessive publicity this event has received. The last of the works is No puede ser…, which includes a single letter, signed by the Marquis of Villena and asking Don Pedro to receive in his house Don Crisanto de Arteaga, a name invented to provide an identity for the droll disguised as an indiano: El señor don Crisanto de Arteaga es persona de toda mi obligación. Va a esa corte a negocios importantes; y la extrañeza de su condición, que casi toca en locura, le arriesga en sus pretensiones, no teniendo a su lado quien le dé a conocer. Y para lograr la memoria de nuestra amistad, he querido que vaya con carta mía, y un regalo de la tierra para recomendar la estimación de su persona; la cual suplico que sea la misma que la mía […] Encargo mucho agasajo que en todo será mi mayor estimación. [No puede ser…, Jornada II, p. 197]

For this letter to be fully understood, it needs to be seen as part of the plan concocted by Don Félix and Ana Pacheco to introduce Tarugo into the house of Don Pedro so that once inside the gracioso can gain access to Doña Inés and demonstrate that “no puede ser guardar a una mujer”; don Pedro is therefore warned of the oddities of don Crisanto (Tarugo), to forestall suspicion as to the true identity of the visitor. Both Crowne and Sydserf translate this letter, although differently. The first abbreviates the content, has Bellguard read it aloud, and omits certain parts: BELL: Um…um…um... to preserve this from being cheated here, or begg’d in England, I take the Boldness to recommend him to the care of a noble Person as your Lordship…um…um…um… [Sir Courtly Nice, Act III, p. 57]

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

The original letter thus becomes a brief intervention by the host in which he only informs of its key aspects; Sydserf, on the other hand, adds more details: The Gentleman to whom I have deliver’d this Letter, is one of my intimate Friends; he has business in Sevil, which happ’ly may be advanc’d by the discretion of your Counsell; the particulars he will impart himself: whatever kindness you witness him, shall be embrace’d as done to me. That our Friendship may not be forgot by distance of place, I have sent you such rarities as our Indies affords, which I hope will be received as coming from your faithful friend, and humble servant, Villana. [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act IV, p. 32]

While he introduces a new location, Seville, he makes no mention at all of the oddness of Don Chrisante, nor of the gifts that he brings with him. This is not a deliberate omission, however, as Sydserf reserves some of the contents for a previous letter signed by Don Chrisante himself, and which he sends to Don Patricio by a servant. This letter, which does not appear in the original text, runs as follows: Sir, the inclos’d will tell you what I am, that I cannot accompany this letter, is by reasons the Wayters of the Custome-House will have the Presents I have brought you from Marquess Villana inroll’d as a parcel of merchandise; I expect your friendship to deliver me from this trouble. This from aboard the Pearl of Peru, D. Chrisante de Pego. [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act IV, p. 32]

Here he speaks of the gifts, and informs us of a problem the protagonist was involved in the previous act. This episode is a creation of Sydserf ’s, and has no parallel in the original text. As we have seen, the letters in the original works are translated in all cases. Firstly, because they are necessary to understand the action, but also because they are in prose and written in simple language, far removed from the complicated verse and rhymes of the Spanish comedies (except in the case of El astrólogo...), and this facilitates their translation. In general, the resulting letters contain all the information in the source texts, and, almost always, include additional content. It seems as though the translators wished to use the inclusion of these missives to introduce aspects that would otherwise have had to form part of the dialogue. Sydserf is an extreme case, creating two letters from a single original. As for style, the translations generally use a richer vocabulary, which contrasts with the simplicity of the Spanish ones, and in three cases the closing phrases of the English letters contribute to this impression: “Your creature”, “You most affectionate cousin” and “From your faithful friend and humble servant”. The songs



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

Intimately related to the occasional use of verse in English Restoration comedies is the presence of songs inserted throughout the works, and this again requires a comment on the English theatrical practice of the time. English theatre was rich in musical themes, with no limit stipulated to the number that might be incorporated.35 Usually each comedy included at least one song, and the slightest excuse seemed sufficient for a character to sing a few notes. Sometimes a song opened the play, sometimes it closed the performance, usually accompanied by a dance. On occasions musical pieces were interpreted during the acts, solo or in duet, without apparent justification; what is more, it was not unusual for a variety of persons to suddenly appear on stage whose function was to accompany the vocalists, whether as a chorus or by playing their instruments. The songs of Restoration theatre have not aroused among scholars the same interest as the pieces that Shakespeare included in his works, and it is difficult to determine whether their role was functional (to heighten the atmosphere, better define a character or expand a theme), merely decorative, or whether it was their mission to hold the attention of a noisy audience. The translators in this study chose to include musical themes in their works although there were none in the source playtexts (with the exception of four lines in the first jornada of No puede ser…, with which Doña Ana introduced the academy and which were omitted from the two translations of this play into English). We shall begin with the only song in The Adventures…, which, as we shall see, was not included until the third edition. At the end of the first scene, two unknown characters, Mirabel and Floridor are invited to come up on stage. She is required to sing a song, while he is to accompany her on the lute. The song, which Mirabel delivers with “mistaken kindness” (p. 66), deals with love, and is designed to soften the suffering that the vicissitudes of love have caused the two female protagonists, Porcia and Camilla, or so it would seem from the latter’s concluding words: “In vain we seek Content in outward things / Tis only from within where Quiet springs” (p. 66). It consists of three verses of six lines each, rhyming ababcc. According to the Restoration Theatre Song Archive,36 Tuke is the author and John Banister the composer. Banister also participated in the composition of other musical themes for Restoration authors of the stature of Dryden, Davenant, Behn and Crowne, among others. Act IV of Elvira, or… also includes a song, although in this case it is to be sung by the protagonist without any kind of musical accompaniment. Digby situates 35. The number of songs inserted into a single play may be very numerous: in She Would if She Could, by George Etherege, no fewer than twelve are introduced, distributed throughout the play. 36. All the songs present in the translated English comedies are collected in this archive: http:// www.arts.monash.edu.au/english/research/Archive/codespages/code12.htm.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Elvira under a palm tree and has her interpret a love song in a sad and melancholy tone, as befits her state of mind, since she has just been unjustly repudiated by her lover and has had to seek refuge in another’s house passing herself off as a maid. Doña Blanca, whom the song is intended to entertain, reproaches Elvira for its sad content, to which Elvira replies: “The happiness of serving you may fit me in time for gayer things” (p. 464). The following extract will suffice to show the tone and simplicity of the lyrics:

See, o see! How every tree, Every bower, Every flower A new live gives to others’ joys Whilst that I, Grief-stricken lie…

[Elvira, or…, Act IV, p. 464]

Nor is Tarugo’s Wiles devoid of music: in the second scene of the second act, Alberto begins by intoning a song, although Sydserf does not give us its lyrics; we only know that a baboon is carried away by the rhythm, and accompanied in the dance by the rest of the characters. Dryden is more prolific in this respect: An Evening’s Love includes five songs and two dances, all interwoven with the dialogue. Two of the songs are presented in the second act: the first is presented by one of the protagonists, Wildblood, to the sound of a procession that “just happened” to be passing by (p. 310). It is dedicated to Jacintha and the content, as was to be expected, is amorous, referring, without making fun, to the problems of matrimony. It consists of four stanzas rhyming abab cbcb acac dede and the accompanying musician is unknown. The second song is sung by a group of musicians who, on the orders of Wildblood, are entertaining Jacintha and Theodosia in the scene already mentioned where women are listening from the balcony. This is clearly a love song, and the structure is four verses rhyming: abab cbcb dede fbfb. The composer, in this case, is Alphonso Marsh. Jacintha, in the third act, sings the third song, and the gentlemen use the occasion to court the ladies and dance with them. It is probable that she sang with accompaniment, although Dryden does not inform us exactly which song it is, only that it is accompanied by guitars. The fourth song, which is presented in the fourth act and is also romantic, is sung by Beatriz at the request of her mistress, Jacintha, when both, in disguise, attempt to attract the attention of Wildblood (p. 344). Again the composer is Alphonso Marsh. Finally, shortly before the curtain falls, Jacintha and Wildblood interpret a fifth song as a duet, a kind of musical talent contest which will reward the winner after the nuptial ceremony: “Upon



Chapter 3.  Translators and translations 

Condition the best Singer shall wear the Breeches” (p. 380). Both impersonate two characters, Damon and Celimena, to the music of an unknown composer, a tune in the English pastoral tradition. To conclude this section we shall deal with the presence, not infrequent, of music in the translation by Crowne. The scene in which Sir Courtly is getting dressed is performed to a musical accompaniment by men and women (p. 44), and the fourth act concludes with a dance and a song in which the “Siamites and Bantamers” participate (p. 82), accompanying Crack, to whom, in turn, Leonora will dedicate another song in the fifth act. In the first two cases, the lyrics appear as an appendix to the published work, together with instructions by the translator as to when they should be sung: the first is intended “to be sung in a Dialogue between a Man and a Woman in the third Act to Sir Courtly Nice, at his first Appearance” (p. 106); the second is “A Dialogue between an Indian Man and Woman in the fourth Act to Farewel, Violante, Crack; being an imitation of a Song sung by some natives of India before the late King” (ibid.). The first composition deals with the ephemeral nature of beauty, which is made clear in the first verse:

Oh! Be kind, my Dear, be kind Whilst our Loves and we are young. We shall find, we shall find, Tame will change the Face and Mind; Both will not continue long. Oh! Be kind, my Dear, be kind.

The message is highly appropriate, bearing in mind that it is directed at the vain and proud Sir Courtly. The second of them appears exotic on the English stage, and is intended to be sung by a man to whom several female voices respond. All this was performed to the music of Samuel Ackroyde, who had also worked for Fletcher and D’Urfey. Finally, Sir Courtly will try to impress Leonora with an outrageous piece of his own invention (p. 93). The words of these last two songs, given their comic content, are reproduced in the section on humour derived from music.

chapter 4

Extralinguistic factors The two-fold nature of the dramatic text obliges the theatre translator of any period not only to transfer the linguistic information of the source play, but also to take into consideration a whole complex series of factors (gestures, duration, rhythm, etc.) that make each performance unique and unrepeatable. Since the staging of a work is never an exact copy of the written version, a single text may give rise to multiple performances and, obviously, different translations. As we have already seen, the target plays selected for this study were primarily designed to be performed. Consequently, the editions are very simple, and although stage directions are more profuse than in the original texts, they remain insufficient. This lack of information presupposes a significant non-verbal component shared by actors and spectators. But the study of these extra-linguistic factors is a difficult task, for obvious reasons deriving from the historical time with which we are dealing (absence of recordings that would allow us to follow how staging developed). Thus, certain factors such as last-minute changes, the use by the actors of a particular accent or dialect, the exact costumes used, etc. escape our analysis. The text thus appears as the basic tool for the study of the extra-linguistic factors that condition theatre translation, as it is the only lasting one “that turns into show through performance” (Bobes Naves 1999: 34). Pavis (1992: 138–139) defines the transformations a dramatic text undergoes in the process of translation as a series of concretisations; this process begins with what he terms textual concretization (1) (that is, the written version of the translation), followed by dramaturgical concretization (2) — analysis, possibilities and difficulties of the performance — until the stage concretization (3), or mise-enscène.1 The process concludes with the reception of the translated work in the recipient culture (4): As we have no visual records of the theatrical shows of the time, it is practically impossible to deal with phase (3) in our study. Phase (2), however, may prove highly enriching if, in making his choices, the translator also incorporates a theatrical perspective, which Pavis terms macrotextual translation (Pavis 1992: 139). In 1. The ideal translation would probably be that which takes scenic components into consideration, that is, a single text that incorporates phases 2 and 3. This fusion is not free of complications, however, as in the majority of cases it requires cooperation between the translator and the stage director; we have no knowledge of this in the performance of the translations under study here.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

our case, this may appear in stage directions and dialogue alike. Finally, the extralinguistic information provided by the socio-historic context in which the translation is ultimately performed (4) cannot be ignored. Concretisations (1), (2) and (4), in this order, are therefore most significant for our study, and in all cases, extra-linguistic factors may transform the translation. In Chapter 1, we mentioned a series of features intrinsic to theatrical translation and which make it a discipline with its own characteristics; here we shall study the extent to which the target texts may be conditioned by the phonological dimension of the spoken text, by the type of stage space available and by the gestures of actors and actresses, as well as by other peripheral aspects of the performances and the profile of the translator, without forgetting the weight of theatrical culture in the target language. Stage directions have already been analysed, and despite their direct relationship with the performance component, they will not be discussed here. 4.1 Rhythm and versification For a theatre translation to be well executed, the rhythm of the text must be taken into account, especially that of the target text. The rhythm of dramatic dialogue takes on a special importance (see Chapter 1); not for nothing does Vivis consider it “the energy, the heartbeat, the metabolism of language” (1992:  6). Rhythm is responsible for the balance between words, dialogues and scenes, so that if rhythm suffers, the spectator’s attention may be lost.2 In the case of the translations we are concerned with, the inclusion of new scenes and the alteration of the order in others occasionally has a negative impact on rhythm and dramatic tension, as well as on the parallelism with action in the Spanish originals.3 Thus, the famous scene of the servants inserted in the first act of The Adventures… puts an end to the dialogue between Camilla and Porcia, who lament their misfortune after Don Carlos receives a letter from Porcia’s future husband announcing his imminent arrival. When the scene is over, the women resume their conversation. Although Tuke might have used this break to give Don Carlos time to reply to the letter, and so give greater realism to the action, the fact is that the tension created by the woes of the ladies dissolves, and the rhythm is seriously affected. The same may be said of 2. Vivis also mentions what he calls the ‘acoustic mask’, that is, the choice of words, accent or dialect proper to each character, aspects which, in his opinion, “mark the character out as vividly as any facial features” (Vivis 1992: 7). 3. Alteration of the order of sequences may also respond to practical considerations, for example to maintain the same décor for a longer time and thus avoiding the technical problems inherent in scenes with different localisations.



Chapter 4.  Extralinguistic factors 

the third act of Tarugo’s Wiles, in which the principal storyline is split into two. On other occasions rhythm is ruptured by the five-act structure of English plays, which unbalances the careful distribution of the Spanish comedies into exposition, development and dénouement. Tuke, for example, makes the start of the fourth act of The Adventures… coincide with a scene in the third jornada of the source text, for no apparent reason. Digby, as we have seen, alters the order of many scenes, necessitating lightning-fast change between them. Such an exchange may also affect the content of the play: in No puede ser…, Tarugo sets in motion a plan to get Inés out of her house, where she has been locked up since her father discovered the portrait of a man in her room; in Tarugo’s Wiles, this discovery occurs once the plan has been initiated, and so the cause-effect relationship of the original cannot be applied to the English translation. As for the carefully achieved parallelisms in the original, especially between the layout of the monologues and the distribution of the main and subsidiary plots, the target texts lack the brilliance of the Spanish classics. Although the translators manage to enliven their works by breaking up long monologues and occasionally using repartee, the original balance is upset. An example is the existence of two plots in No siempre…; they develop in parallel and are the continuation of an event that took place in another time and place to that of the characters on stage. From this moment, the plots develop symmetrically. Elvira, or… is, in this sense, a far inferior work, and its structure appears quite chaotic in comparison with the order imposed by Calderón. The overall length of the performance is obviously influenced by its rhythm, and so the length of the monologues and the style of delivery are fundamental in ensuring that the work does not overrun the approximately three hours that were the norm in English theatre of the period. In Spanish drama, tempo is of even greater importance, as verse dialogue requires of the actors a particular style of delivery. Pauses, too, need special treatment, as they may have significant semantic importance, especially if accompanied by gestures or movement:4 “It is important that a translator observe them — even where they are not indicated — since two lines both before and after […] pauses must be given a quite particular imprint, rhythm and emphasis” (Hamberg 1969: 92). Thus although there might be no indication in the text of the pauses the performers should make, some translators were aware of them, and included them in their stage directions: Digby, for example, suggests to Don Fernando that he should continue speaking [after pausing a while] (Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 448), while Tuke indicates through notes that the actors should resume their discourse [after a little pause] (The Adventures…, pp. 54, 4. Hence the importance of paying attention to all the characters who are on the stage at one time, as the audience is aware of the actions of all of them, and not just of those who are speaking.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

72 y 92). Although, in this last case, the final duration depends on the delivery of the actors, it is evident (for example in the syntax employed or in the length of the replies) that the translators have tried to speed up the dialogues in their texts. The final distinctive element of the comedia as dramatic poetry, is, of course, rhyme. We have seen how the translators employed different strategies once Spanish versification was abandoned, except for recourse to traditional rhyming couplets. The resulting work was stripped of the multiple phonetic nuances inherent in rhyme, and the phonic symbolism of such rhetorical devices as alliteration was also lost. The following example illustrates this, as neither the rhyme nor the alliteration of the reiteration of the /m/ sound find an echo in the words of Camilla: NISE: Pues que mi propio marido, tercero ya de su afrenta, por librarme de sí mismo me trajo a mi casa mesma. [Los empeños..., Jornada III, p. 128]

CA: The Person, that hath led me to this Place, this fatal Place, is the abused Antonio; who to accomplish his too just Revenge, as well as upon my Family, as Person, gives me up to be murdered by my Brother. [The Adventures…, Act IV, p. 112]

In other cases, the translation omits not only the sound play but also the context which produced it: D. JUAN:

Quita a mis ojos las flores ∅ y tus manos no me quites pues es lo mismo tener tus manos, que mis jardines. [El astrólogo..., Jornada I, pp. 227–228]

Phonic creations may be as significant as any other semantic feature: plays on words, the combination of different sounds, or even certain personal names, may raise a smile the moment they are pronounced. In such cases, the translator may opt to keep the sound play at the expense of meaning (the choice of the name “Chichon” in Elvira, or… would seem to have sought this effect) or, more frequently, sacrifice content to respect sound: “Beatriz de las Beatrices”, exclaims Morón in El astrólogo..., as against “Beatrix” in the translation. 4.2 The relevance of gesture Independently of the phonic effects caused by rhythm, rhyme and word order, the translation of a dramatic work will not be complete unless it takes into consideration movement and gesture. At times, word and gesture are inseparable; indeed, any change in content may be accompanied by a change in mimicry or postures:



Chapter 4.  Extralinguistic factors 

CÉS: Ea, ya estáis en mi casa. Esperad en esa pieza [Los empeños..., Jornada III, p. 127]

ANT: Madam, banish your fear, you are now safe within these Walls; be pleased to remain here. [The Adventures…, Act IV, p. 109]

In the Spanish comedy, César invites Porcia to wait in “esa pieza”, probably accompanying his words with a hand gesture; in the translation, Porcia is invited to remain “here”, requiring a different kind of gesture. Given the difficulty of interpreting non-verbal behaviour from a written text, it is a laborious task to determine how the translator transfers gesture from one language to another. Kinesic indications may appear in the stage directions, in the dramatic dialogue itself, or, indeed, may not appear at all. In the first two cases, the extralinguistic signal may be given in the target text as another nonverbal sign, as a stage note or be converted into a verbal sign (Mateo 1997: 103). When no indication is given, the dramatic conventions of the destination culture come into play, and so the absence of gestural indications in the original texts may be compensated for in the rigid rules that had for years governed English stage practice. For example, an actor steps forward, alone, to say his lines, sighing when he is suffering the pains of love, and speaking quickly in the comic scenes (Harold 1965: 24–25). Bearing the above problems in mind, we shall try to show, first, how gestural indications (whether in stage directions or in the dialogue) may come to alter the original text; and secondly, how to a series of non-verbal signs in the original text, present in a repertory of conventional situations, there correspond gestural behaviours that may or may not be similar to the original ones. It can be seen that, on occasions, indications referring to gestures may affect the target text, as gestural references in the Spanish dialogue are expressed as stage directions in the translation: OCT:

Los brazos César, me dad [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 111] CARL: Dadle la mano a Beatriz [No siempre..., Jornada III, p. 178] QUAT: Mientras pasa la pendencia quiero subirme a un árbol. [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 117]

[They embrace] [The Adventures…, Act II, p. 69] [They join hands] [Elvira, or…, Act V, p. 477] [Diego climbs the tree] [The Adventures…, Act III, p. 83]

Although the gesture is translated in all cases, the way in which it is indicated has consequences in the target text, as the dialogue becomes more agile when freed of the information that is moved to the stage notes in the target text. The opposite

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

case is also a possibility, that is, original directions as to gestures become part of the target dialogue: [Don Pedro, Alberto, con luz]

PAT:

Alberto! Haste, bring hither lights! [No puede ser…, Jornada I, p. 201] [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act IV, p. 39] [Échanle un papel] MASK: I stay’d here, Sir, by express Order [El astrólogo..., Jornada II, p. 251] from the Lady Aurelia, to deliver you this Note. [An Evening’s…, Act IV, p. 342] [Sale Morón, y habla con Don Di- BEAT: If you please, Sir, I’ll tell it in in ego aparte] your Ear. [El astrólogo..., Jornada III, p. 259] [An Evening’s…, Act IV, p. 353]

Apart from the change to dialogue form, there is also a modification here of the original content. In the first example, the English text seeks to speed up the action, and omits the Spanish direction; in the second, it is Maskall who hands Aurelia a paper which in the Spanish text is delivered anonymously, supposedly through a window; in the third, Beatriz confesses a secret in the ear of her interlocutor, in contrast to the more usual aparte or “aside” (it should be observed, too, that the maid replaces the droll in this mission). In addition to these two groups, there are also those stage directions that, in the target version, become stage notes whose information is reinforced in the dialogue. In the following example, Sydserf uses the note only to make clear the reaction of Don Pedro/Patricio when he compares a portrait with Don Félix/Don Horatio, who is present, and the identity is given in the subsequent dialogue. [Don Pedro coteja recatadamente el retrato con el rostro de don Félix] [No puede ser…, Jornada II, p. 195]

[Patricio makes a stand as in a Maze] PAT: Oh here he is, when I view the Picture I am confirm’d; ‘Tis none else but Don Horatio’s. [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act IV, p. 29]

On occasions, in the English text the note may simply be integrated into the dialogue:

TAR: [Pónese unos anteojos] LEO: Hast thou no Disguise, for fear he should? Pues yo quiero CRACK: Only this great Pair of Spectacles. ponerme aqueste disfraz. [Sir Courtly…, Act II, p. 41] [No puede ser…, Jornada I, p. 193]

Finally, we should not forget the many references in the translations that give rise to gestures absent in the action of the original texts. For example, in Los empeños...



Chapter 4.  Extralinguistic factors 

Porcia welcomes Nise with no ostensible gesture. In the translation, Porcia is happy to see Camilla and “throws herself on Camilla’s neck” (Act I, p. 51). At the same time, in the original plays a repertoire of gestural behaviour is systematically repeated in the target texts allowing us to deduce a shared pattern of conduct in the English case. This pattern is particularly evident in gestures relating to bodily expression, both movement and mime. Movement refers to the impetus and dynamism of the characters, and is complicated with constant use of hiding-places, concealed persons and intrigues that propitiate unexpected and surprising encounters. Noteworthy in this respect is the use of the quarrel, fight or duel between gentlemen, almost always a consequence of the strict code of honour prevailing in seventeenth-century Spain. Thus, before any affront, the Spanish gentleman of the Siglo de Oro comedies would draw his sword and blades would immediately be crossed, supposing the movements of unsheathing the weapons and entering into combat. These movements are translated quite faithfully into English, or made even more explicit in the target text. Sometimes, too, the translator may create them even though they are not present in the original. Here are examples of all these cases: CARL: Saqué la espada. FER: He, ready as I to make his sword [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 76] th’ expresser of his mind. [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 449] ENR: Soy tu castigo, y mi afrenta. HEN: I can hold no longer; I’m thy [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 116] Destiny. [Draws his sword] [The Adventures…, Act III, p. 82]

CES: Bien dixo, que a mi valor HEN: Vain Man; who e’er thou art, know, me asegura las ajenas, the life thou threaten’st is guarded by a tanto que siempre en la mía trusty sword. y porque veáis que es cierto [The Adventures…, Act III, p. 82] hable aquesta espada. [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 117]

∅

[Enter Don Alonzo and six servants with Lights and Swords drawn] [An Evening’s…, Act V, p. 371]

In the last example, Dryden uses a note that might well appear in a Spanish play; however, in this case the use of arms occurs in a scene that is entirely of Dryden’s own creation. By the introduction of these elements he gives some “Spanish-style” homogeneity to the work.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Another noteworthy movement is that made by the characters to hide themselves. It almost always appears as an explicit stage direction in both the original text and the translation: [Escóndese Leonor] [Elvira retiring as into the closet] [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 74] [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 448] [Escóndense] [Don Zancho and Chichon go [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 100] behind the hanging] [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 454]

As for mime, the most frequent gestures are those arising from personal relations that involve a certain physical approximation of the protagonists: kissing, offering a hand or arm, throwing oneself at someone’s feet, etc. There is a clear distinction, though, between the treatment of same sex and opposite sex relations; hence, there are examples: Between gentlemen: OCT: Los brazos, César, me dad. [They embrace] [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 111] [The Adventures…, Act II, p. 69] CARL: Los brazos me dad, don Juan. [Don Fernando and he embrace] [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 74] JUL: My joy to have my dear Fernando here. [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 448]

Between ladies and gentlemen or (male) servants: [Dadme, señora, a besar la mano] [Julio goes to Elvira, and taking her by the [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 101] hand, leads her way] [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 455] INÉS: ¡Ginés mío! ¿No me das FRANCISCA: un abrazo? GINÉS: Y dos y tres, que no soy un miserable. [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 95]

∅

OTÁÑEZ: Don Juan de Medrano pide (a María) licencia para besarte las manos. [El astrólogo..., Jornada I, p. 227]

∅

Between ladies: LEO: Los pies me da otra vez. ELVIRA: [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 88]

∅



Chapter 4.  Extralinguistic factors 



∅

[Francisca embraces Elvira] Let me embrace thee, my sweet sister. [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 451]

The interpretation of gestures in the target text, whether translated or incorporated at the wish of the translator, is standard to all the comedies of the genre. Thus, in the Spanish plays, embraces between ladies and between gentlemen indicate friendship; one gentleman kisses another’s hand as a token of gratitude or in supplication, while if he throws himself at his feet it is a sign of willingness to serve and loyalty; an embrace between a gentleman and a lady implies intimacy or a family relationship, becoming bolder if he kisses her hand, and an unmistakable proposal of marriage if they finally hold hands. On occasions, the dialogue informs us of the semantic content of these gestures, as is shown in this partially translated extract of a conversation between a gentleman and an old man: JUAN: Yo sé lo que he de decir: MELCH: Till then, humbly kisses Dame mil veces tus pies. your Hands, the most oblig’d of LEO: Los brazos será mejor: your Servants. no le conozco. [An Evening’s…, Act IV, p. 351] [El astrólogo..., Jornada III, p. 254]

In Spanish comedias, gestures denote the status of those involved in a relationship, so that there is always a dominant and a dominated character: this latter will throw himself/herself at the feet of the other to express readiness to serve, or kiss hands or feet to accept the orders of a superior authority (Villalba 1992: 29–30). It is impossible, therefore, to individualise the psychology of a character on the basis of his or her non-verbal behaviour, as these reactions belong to the ceremonial code of the times and their reiteration depends on the working methodology of the author (ibid.: 33). Curiously, many of these gestures adapt perfectly to English theatrical usage of the day, and so, as can be seen in several of the translations above, they are retained in the translations (with the exception of the expression dar los pies, for which no example is found in the target texts studied here); this explains how the translator sometimes incorporates others of his own creation in imitation of the genre. The greatest number of examples of this kind is found at the end of the fifth act of the English works: in Tarugo’s Wiles Horatio goes to Liviana and “kisses her hand” (p. 40); in Los empeños...“Camilla takes Antonio by the hand, and leads him to Don Carlos” (p. 140), while “Antonio takes Camilla’s hand and kisses it” (p. 140), “Henrique takes Porcia by the hand and gives her to Octavio” (p. 141), and Diego does likewise with Flora: “Diego takes her by the hand”. No siempre… concludes with two simple notes (“Ponse Don Carlos al lado de Don Diego” and “Ponse Don Carlos junto a Don Juan”, p.  176) designed to apportion to the gentlemen their

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

respective wives. In the English text, Elvira “gives him her hand” (to Don Fernando), and Don Zancho and Blanca “join hands” (p. 477). There are no gestures of this type in El astrólogo..., although in the translation an old man closes the work by “giving his daughters” (p. 379). However, it is not difficult in the five acts to find other illustrative examples, such as the reaction of Porcia when she sees her cousin Camilla in The Adventures…: “Porcia throws herself on Camilla’s neck” (p. 51), and later “starts to her and kisses her” (p. 55), while Elvira “casts herself at her father’s feet” (Elvira, or…, p. 477). Apart from the gestures that are faithfully translated, and those that are introduced in imitation of the Spanish genre, it is interesting to highlight certain nonverbal behaviour that, although non-existent in the standardised code of Siglo de Oro drama, did form part of the conventions of contemporary English theatre. There are many examples: in The Adventures… we see Antonio “nodding to Octavio” (p. 75) and Octavio “bowing to Antonio” (p. 77), a sign of good manners repeated in Sir Courtly…, when the protagonist, on Mr Surly’s arrival, “bows to receive him” (p.  46). The same is true for Elvira, or…, where the protagonist is observed “making a low courtsey” (p. 455). This movement was very common in English theatre of the time, as convention dictated that actors and actresses should make some gesture of courtesy at their entrances and exits, which might be very elaborate at times for comic effect. There are also other gestures more infrequent in the Spanish case, as when Don Julio, giving instructions, “points to the Page, and makes him set chairs by the door” (Elvira, or…, p. 461), or when “the Cavaliers take the ladies and court them” (An Evening’s…, p. 335). The translators thus employed the gestural component to adapt the works to the destination culture, while recalling their Spanish origin by mixing gestures typical of Spanish comedy with others from the English stage, even though these were absent from the originals. Finally, it should be noted that, as with phonic creations, indications of gesture (incorporated either into the dialogue or in the stage notes) may have a comic content, or replace some humorous verses. This aspect will be dealt with in more detail in the section devoted to stage humour. 4.3 Theatre building and stage components Equally important for the final result of the translation of a dramatic play are all those components essential for its performance and which may have an influence on the decisions taken by the translator. In this section we shall refer to the type of theatre, stage, décor, furnishing, props, light and sound effects, and the actors’ costumes, makeup and accessories.



Chapter 4.  Extralinguistic factors 

Given that the plays were conceived for a certain type of theatrical space, it is not surprising that the translators chose those that were best suited to the economic and human conditions of the destination theatre. Leaving on one side religious performances and those that were held in palace halls, seventeenth-century Spanish theatregoers would congregate in corrales, a highly functional area equipped with different spaces and levels that to a large extent coincided with theatrical spaces of the early years of the Restoration. As we said earlier, two companies had a monopoly of London theatre at this time, and so translations had to adjust to the physical conditions of the two existing playhouses, with the exception, again, of representations at court. Thus the layout of the Spanish corrales, with seats to the front and sides of the stage, and the cazuela, a raised area to the rear only for women, or the aposentos, one of which might be reserved for the King, had to be expressed by stage, pit, boxes or balconies. It is unlikely that the translators had seen the works translated performed in a Spanish theatre space; Tuke and Sydserf might have had such an opportunity, or might at least have seen other works staged during their exile, albeit in French or Dutch theatres. Digby, who was born in Madrid, might also have had the chance. It is most probable, however, that these translators, like the others, carried out their work having in mind an English theatre. It seems obvious that Tuke had a clear idea of the kind of theatre in which he expected his translation to be performed; if not it is hard to explain the lines that close The Adventures…, and which are not found in the original: ANTONIO: OCTAVIO: CAMILLA:

Thus ends the Strange Adventures of Five Hours; As sometimes Blustering Storms, in Gentle Showers. Thus Noble gallants, after Blustering Lives, You’ll end, as we have done, in taking Wives […] You Ladies, whil’st unmarried, tread on snares, Married, you’re cumbered with Domestic Cares. [The Adventures…, Act V, p. 142]

Octavio is clearly addressing himself to the pit, from where the men usually watched the show, while Camilla seems to be speaking to the boxes, where the nobles would usually be seated with their wives or mistresses. The same could be said of Sydserf when he has Tarugo say these words: “I wish the Gallery be so blessedly contriv’d as to have a Belcone-window in it” (Act I, p. 3), or when, in the Epilogue, he begs the audience to be benevolent: … having ‘scaped the boisterous Billows of the bay of Biscay, he hopes at his time neither to dash or split upon these Boxes, nor be ingulfed in this Pit. And for his Friends above in the exalted Stalls, he expects the best from them.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

The following description of the Duke’s Theatre (scene of the first night of The Adventures of Five Hours) may serve to illustrate, in broad terms, the space in which the translations were received: this particular theatre, a converted tennis court, was divided into two parts of approximately equal size: one, for the audience, even had a raised part at the end, which corresponded to the cazuela of the Spanish corral. The translator certainly had in mind the different components of this area. Because of their importance for the dramatic action, it is interesting to highlight three scenographic elements that are fundamental in Spanish theatres: the balcón de las apariencias, the balcony as such (balcón) and the background curtain (Bobes Naves 2001: 424). The first is simply a window, balcony or gallery where a character may appear at a higher level than that of the stage; the background curtain may serve as a true curtain, as an element of the décor, or to allow the balcón de las apariencias to be seen; and the balcón was a gallery situated at the rear part of the stage, on the first floor, supported by pillars. The space below the balcony was occupied by the changing rooms, from which the actors emerged onto the stage through doors covered by curtains (paños). These spaces behind the curtains could also be used, as in the English theatre. In both cases, the action took place at the front of the stage, which was better lit. In the English texts directions such as “come forward” or “advance to the front of the stage” are not unusual. The Spanish paños correspond to the English stage doors, generally four (the number needed to perform The Adventures…, for example). Moreover, each of these doors had a balcony immediately above, ideal for scenes in which two levels were deemed necessary. This doubtless made translation much easier, as the translator knew he could situate the action in the target theatre without having to worry about scenographic determinants other than specific features of the theatre in question. In the third jornada of No puede ser…, Don Félix and Tarugo, from the street, call to the barred window and persuade Doña Inés to disguise herself and so flee the house in which her father is keeping her; in Tarugo’s…, the droll, this time not in the company of Don Félix, does the same at Liviana’s window, to explain his plan to her maid (Crowne omits this part in his translation): [Doña Inés a la ventana. Don Félix y Tarugo, en la calle] [No puede ser…, III, p. 206]

[Tarugo comes to Liviana’s Chamber-window, and knocks. Enter Locura at the window] [Tarugo’s Wiles, V, p. 49]

If in this case it is the window that is the essential element, in others doors and balconies, as we shall see, are fundamental to the credible development of the plot. Although it is difficult to be sure, it seems logical to assume that, when the translation was to be performed, the scenic whole did not give the impression of being genuinely Spanish. In the case of the Duke’s Theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields



Chapter 4.  Extralinguistic factors 

the décors were used in all the works performed, and often alluded to the plays for which they had originally been designed. It is probable, therefore, that The Adventures… used décors previously employed.5 The fact that the translator made no changes in this respect in his third edition would indicate that he was satisfied with the stage and décor; at least, that is what can be deduced from Tuke’s words when, in the Prologue, he announces that “the Scenes are New”; these must have been very elaborate given the scenic complexity of the play. Not for nothing, almost forty years after the first performance of The Adventures…, did Downes affirm that the work was “cloth’d so Excellently Fine in Proper habits, and Acted so justly well” (in Gaw 1917: 8). The likelihood that the translator had in mind the possibilities an English stage would afford him is clear in cases where he introduces scenic elements that were not contemplated in the original. In No siempre…, Inés asks Ginés to hide in a room; Francisca does the same in Elvira, or…, but the hiding place is behind a curtain: INÉS: Yo sí, entrad en la cuadra, FRANCISCA: […] and let them donde escondidos estéis. retire behind that hanging. [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 100] [Elvira, or…, Act II p. 454]

The presence is thus assumed of a curtain on the English stage behind which to hide. An even clearer example comes later: Don Diego and Ginés are forced to jump from a balcony; as a consequence of the fall, Ginés is injured and develops a limp. However, this fall does not take place in view of the audience; we are told of his limp in a stage note and in the dialogue. In the English play, the translator makes it clear that “Don Zancho gets over the balcony, and letting himself down at arm’s end, leaps gently into the street. Chichon offers at the like, but takes a fall as he lights” (Act II, p. 456). While in the original text a balcony was not necessary, as the scene of the fall is not shown, here it is evident that a higher level is required if the translator’s instructions are to be respected. On other occasions two levels are needed in the original text and the translation: in The Adventures…, Octavio climbs a tree to reach the upper floor, although his Spanish counterpart prefers to do so by scaling the typical rexas, or bars, absent in the English text. However, at another moment of this same work, the English version opts for the balcony when the Spanish text prefers the bars: [Sale Nise, Porcia, y Flora a una rexa] (Jornada II, p.  115) → [Camilla, Porcia, Flora appear in a balcony] (Act III, p. 80). 5. Hopkins (2003: 38) believes that the three locations (garden, street and chamber) in The Witty Faire One, performed only three months before The Adventures… might have been used on this occasion, as to a certain extent they would meet the needs of Tuke’s play.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

The scenes that require a balcony are more numerous in the translations, and do not always correspond to parallel scenes in the source text: Dryden, in An Evening’s Love, situates Jacintha and Theodosia “above” while their beaux serenade them. Sydserf stages the fall of Tarugo from a balcony: “When your brother comes, tell him, being in my Balcony, as you pass’d by, I tumbled down” (Tarugo’s Wiles, Act IV, p. 39), while the original uses a window. There is not, however, much information available for us to determine what changes in the target texts were due to English décors. Given that, especially in the early years of corral theatre, there was no stage decoration, or it was very basic, the scenic space of the Spanish theatre was created with words, and it was up to the audience to imagine it for themselves. It is for this reason that in the dialogues of these comedias there are constant allusions to the verbal décor. If in the majority of cases these disappear in the translations, in the rest they become stage directions or, occasionally, remain part of the dialogue: TARUGO: ¡Qué rica está la sala! [No puede ser…, Jornada I, p. 188]

∅

BEATRIZ: Sal presto que ya amanece y no hay nadie que te vea. [El astrólogo..., Jornada I, p. 234]

∅

ESCUD.:

A Dios, Madrid, desta vez no pienso volver a verte. [El astrólogo..., Jornada III, p. 264]

∅

LEON.:

Detrás de aquellos jazmines hay alguien. [El astrólogo..., Jornada III, p. 265]

∅

TAR: PED: TAR:

¡Bendito sea el que hizo TAR: A most incomparable piece of tal hermosura! ¿Es posible Nature improv’d by Art. que esto pueda el artificio? PAT: It serves me, Sir. Para dentro de la Corte TAR: ‘Tis so delightful a Paradise, no es malo este rinconcito. that I think I’le scarse be persuaded ¿Cómo rincón? Vive Dios to get out of it this night. que no es sino un paraíso. [Tarugo’s Wiles…, Act IV, p. 37] [No puede ser…, Jornada II, p. 199]

DIEGO: Agradable vista ofrece [The Scene is in a Garden with an este jardín, bien le adorna Arbour in it] con su hermosura esta fuente, [An Evening’s…, Act IV, p. 348] y esta fresca galería. [El astrólogo..., Jornada III, p. 264]

As can be seen in the last example, seventeenth-century English playtexts usually make a slight reference to the scene, inserting brief indications of the characters’



Chapter 4.  Extralinguistic factors 

surroundings generally more to do with the action than to the paintings or ornaments that might adorn it. In the translations, the most frequent allusions to décor are those referring to rooms or chambers, followed by gardens and arbours, and are usually more detailed than the Spanish ones. Outstanding for their richness are those of Digby: “Scene changes to a nice pleasant Apartment” (Act III, p. 461); “A fine garden with orange trees and fountains”; “They go and sit down under the palm-tree”; (Act IV, p. 464). It is in Elvira, or… that we find the most extensive of all the stage notes in the translations; it refers, curiously enough, to the décor: [Here is to open a curious Scene of a Laboratory in perspective, with a fountain in it, some stills, many shelves, with pots of porcelain and glasses, with pictures above them; the room paved with black and white marble, with a prospect through pillars at the end, discovering the full moon, and by its light a perspective of orange trees; and towards that farther end Elvira appears at a table, shifting flowers, her back turned]. [Elvira, or…, Act IV, p. 467]

This description requires significant adaptation by the host theatre. Although excessive detail is by no means the norm in the translations, it may be assumed that the décors of the destination theatre could be sufficiently significant for the information in the original text to be shortened: thus, Don Carlos (Los empeños...), on arriving in Seville comments “Temprano en Sevilla entramos”; in The Adventures…, Sancho says to his master: “Sir, we have arrived in very good time”, at no time mentioning the place. We must assume, therefore, the existence of signs or indicators that would help the spectators identify the places where both characters found themselves. The most important problem with the décor comes in scene changes, extremely fast in some cases. In The Adventures…, for example, we find four scene changes, practically one after another: in the third act, while Diego hides in a tree, the scene changes in a short space of time to a garden in the city of Seville, and from there to the house of Don Henrique. This leads us to assume that the theatres had sufficient technical capacity to effect these changes. The same can be said of one of the scenes in Sir Courtly Nice, which opens in Covent Garden, and, at the cry of “open the door!”, shows the servants of Lord Bellguard at breakfast (Act I, p. 92). As for the presence of music in the performances, differences exist between the Spanish texts and their English translations. While it is true that music was part of the show in both cultures, the theatrical tradition of the two countries was at the root of marked differences: the Spanish comedias reflected the theatrical conventions of the time, in which comedy, as we have seen, was accompanied by music, eulogy, one-act diversions, dance and, occasionally, an optional end-ofparty farce, or mojiganga. The music is not incorporated or indicated in the Spanish text (with the exception of those lines already mentioned which are sung when

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

some musicians entertain the members of the academy in No puede ser…), as it was guaranteed at other moments of the show. The great innovation in the English translations we are studying is that they are fundamentally musical, and in all of them at least one song is incorporated (on occasions accompanied by a dance). This required actors and actresses to be able to sing well, and even to be able to play an instrument. Such skills might determine who took which part, and an actress with a gift for music might play the part of the maid whose duty was to provide musical entertainment for her mistress. A clear example of this is found in the fourth act of Elvira, or…, which includes a song to be sung by its protagonist, who, in the role of maid, will attempt to please Doña Beatriz with her musical gifts. In this respect, An Evening’s Love is more elaborate, with various pieces that require the performers to sing. Two occur in the second act: the first to be interpreted by one of the protagonists, Wildblood, to the sound of a street parade; the second by a group of musicians accompanied by Wildblood and Bellamy. Jacintha interprets another piece in the third act, in which there is also a dance by women to the rhythm of guitars, giving the scene a Spanish air. The fourth act includes another piece, this time interpreted by Beatriz, and a dance in which all the cast takes part. Finally, Wildblood and Jacintha participate in the song that closes the fifth act. Sir Courtly Nice also requires the participation of actor-singers on one occasion. It would be wrong to think that the inclusion of songs in the English comedies was due only to aesthetic or literary motives; on the contrary, it was one more way of attracting the public, and, at the same time, of preventing the pleasure gardens and other leisure centres having a monopoly of such a popular form of entertainment (Styan 1986: 199). Again, factors external to the translation had a determining effect on the resulting work. Restoration theatre therefore required the presence of a small group of musicians, with their respective instruments, and these would become an indispensible part of any self-respecting production (Styan 1986: 35). Depending on the theatre, they might be situated in the pit, the balconies, or, even, on the stage. Furthermore, musical compositions were often accompanied by dance, adding a touch of playful lightness to a work that might seem rather serious if approached only through the printed word. Stage lighting and its effects also merit attention, especially considering the characteristics of the source text and the profusion of night scenes. Restoration theatres were well illuminated, both by external light and by candles in lamps or on water, and even by luminous corks floating on oil.6 Light always conditioned 6. There are several contemporary reports of how smoke from the candles brought on coughing fits among the spectators. This, mingling with the odour of their unwashed bodies and the stench of the latrines situated behind the boxes, meant that perfumes and aromatic herbs had to



Chapter 4.  Extralinguistic factors 

the action, as the performers moved towards the better lit areas so that the audience could follow the plot more easily. Although it was possible to simulate night scenes in these theatres by putting out or removing some of the candles, this made it more difficult to discern all that was happening on stage, and so it was usual to employ techniques typical of Spanish comedies: a lamp in the hand and a little mime were sufficient to give the impression of darkness, hence the abundance, in the originals and translations alike, of injunctions to bring light, or to move it from one place to another. Another device to achieve the same effect, and which appears in several of the translations but is not mentioned in the originals, is for the actor to grope around; for example, Tuke opens the fifth act of The Adventures… with the following direction: “Enter Diego, Flora, and Pedro accompanying the chair, groping as in the dark” (p. 119). This gesture also gave the scene a comical aspect: the actors pretended they could see nothing, while the audience was fully aware of everything going on on stage (see more examples in Section 6.1.1.).7 To conclude this section, there are three moments in The Adventures… in which the use of lighting is especially noteworthy; the first stands out for its originality, for the maid, Flora, is able to light a candle with her breath. Tuke knew that this stage trick would impress the spectator, and that the droll’s comments would also provoke laughter: DIEGO: Thanks, gentle Flora, to your Virgin-Puff; Tis a strong breath, that can o’ercome a Snuff. [The Adventures…, Act V, p. 120]

Although less spectacular, the scenes in which the gentlemen are fighting also require some skill in handling the lighting effects, as the moon suddenly comes out and partially illuminates the stage: [The rising moon appears in the scene] OCTAVIO: Now that the Rising Moon lends us some Light. [The Adventures…, Act III, p. 83]

Later, Porcia sees a flash of light at the window, a clear sign that someone is approaching: “A blaze of light appears at the window, and a noise without” (Act V, p. 130). A common feature of Spanish Golden Age drama is that, whether the plays are to be performed in the corrales or at Court, reference to the characters’ clothes is be used to combat the characteristic smell of the theatre (Styan 1986: 36). In Crowne’s translation, Sir Courtly dissuades Leonora from going to the theatre arguing that it “[is] always cram’d with our odious sex, that have not always the most inviting smell” (p. 92). 7. Styan (1986: 37) notes that groping around was first introduced onto the English stage by Dryden, specifically in The Wild Gallant (1663). Many playwrights copied the idea in subsequent years for their night scenes, among them our translators.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

sparse. This may be explained by the fact that it was generally the director of the company who was in charge of bringing the text to the stage, hence the standardisation and succinctness of the notes, limited to indications such as “de camino”, “de noche”, or accompanying the entrance of a character with a reference to his or her role, and, implicitly, an idea as to the type of clothing required: “galán”, “dama”, “gracioso”, etc. There is hardly any source material for the costumes for the different roles, apart from the few references in the text, and although for other Spanish theatrical works there are records of expenditure and reports of palace performances and fiestas (which are very useful for those interested in theatrical costume), such information is lacking for the comedies here dealt with. Two fundamental factors influenced the costumes used in performance: first, Spanish classical theatre did not attempt to portray real life, and so stage costume was very different from that of the audience; second, the performers usually wore their “Sunday best” (de fiesta; Ruano de la Haza 2000: 43), often made of costly materials. This luxury served both to entice people to the theatre and to impress them with the out of the ordinary. Costume is of interest for our particular study of translation for various reasons: it clearly reflected the character’s status (noble or peasant, rich or poor), it had an important semiotic value, and costume changes were a common source of comedy. As comedy deriving from costume will be discussed later, we shall deal here with how the clothing used may, in its function as an extralinguistic element, alter the target text. Costume may provide as much information as word or gesture, and so the translator must take care to reproduce in the target language all the information associated with a specific garment: POR: Flora, ponte el manto luego. POR: Flora, run quickly, and see whether [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 111] my Brother be settled to dispatch Antonio’s Man. [Exit Flora] [The Adventures…, Act I p. 62]

The mention of manto would be sufficient for the Spanish audience to know that Flora was about to go out into the street; its omission in the target text requires a compensation strategy, which involves making the maid’s errand explicit and adding a stage direction. The stage attire of Siglo de Oro performers was different from that on the Restoration stage; the translations thus omit references to Spanish garments and incorporate into the dialogue allusions to English clothes. In English theatre, the gentlemen were fond of large cuffs, pockets and handkerchiefs, shoes with high heels and decorative laces, outlandish wigs and feathered hats, stockings, gloves and, of course, a sword, an accessory typical of the Spanish stage too, and indispensable in conflicts of honour. The ladies wore long, richly decorated dresses with



Chapter 4.  Extralinguistic factors 

a train, which, in combination with high-heeled shoes, limited their ease of movement; all this was complemented by capes, or manteaux, which might serve as veils in the disguise scenes of Spanish comedy. However, from 1668 on the vizarded mask became popular, and there are abundant examples in An Evening’s Love and in Crowne’s translation. Dryden equipped his ladies with “vizor masks” and Maskall appears “in a vizor” — pp. 335 and 342 respectively — ; in Sir Courtly Nice Aunt and Leonora also use it to hide their faces, as is shown in three notes: “Leonora vizarded” (pp. 98 and 99); “Aunt vizarded” (p. 101). Although there are still fewer examples, wigs, hats, swords, neckerchiefs and masks, as well as fans (which began to be used in England in the last quarter of the seventeenth century, and so are exclusively limited to Sir Courtly Nice), might play a role similar to that of costume. For example, while in No siempre… a maid puts out the lights to prevent a fight, Digby selects the droll, Chichon, for this function, and for it he uses his hat (Act IV, p. 469). 4.4 Factors peripheral to performance As noted in the first chapter, this section includes those aspects which, while apparently independent of the dramatic text and its performance, may affect and modify both. We are referring to the theatregoers, the repercussions of criticism, the economic situation of impresarios and the power of censorship — or self-censorship — as well as the importance of patronage to translators. In the prologue to The Conquest of Granada, Dryden maintains that the playwright should always “endeavour an absolute dominion over the minds of the spectators” (in Styan 1986: 8). This is not at all bad advice, bearing in mind the nature of the Restoration theatre audience, only too ready to whistle and cat-call if the performance was not to its liking.8 In contrast to Elizabethan times, a special kind of homogeneity had been achieved in the theatre, integrating all social classes (writers, politicians, merchants, etc.). Despite this, much of the performers’ effort was directed towards pleasing the upper classes; after all, these were the ones who paid most to get in. Faced with these reactions, the translator could opt to suppress, a posteriori, those features that did not get the required response (a clear example is in the changes made by Tuke to the third edition of his work) or emphasise those parts 8. In prologues, epilogues and essays on Restoration performances the general impression is given of an absolute lack of decorum: the audience often paid little attention to what was going on on stage, and even got up onto the stage to talk with the actors or walk in and out of the wings, so that fiction and reality were hard to separate (Styan 1986: 8).

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

that drew most applause from the spectators. In other cases, perhaps more numerous, the translator could anticipate his public’s expectations and introduce passages that, while they were not in the original, he knew would go down well. This seems to have been the reason that Tuke inserted in his translation (Act I, pp. 59– 61) mocking references to the Dutch, in the words of a group of servants, Ernesto, Gerardo and Bernardino. This scene would be met with guffaws from those present, especially at a time when war with Holland was imminent: GER: Herrings! Why what a Devil do they grow in their Country? ERN: No faith, they fish ‘em on the English Coast, and fetch their Salt from France, then they pickle ‘em, and sell ‘em all o’er the world. GER: ‘S’life, these rascals live by Cookery. […] BER: What kind of Beds Sir have they in that Country? ERN: This, I dare swear’s, the Groom o’ the Chamber. Sir, they have certain Niches in their walls, where they climb up a Nights, and there they stew in their own grease, till Morning. [The Adventures…, Act I, p. 60]

Similarly, he eliminates humorous references to other peoples, culturally more distant, that might not have the same effect, such as the following comment from Quatrín: QUATRÍN:

Mal haya quien deseara morirse, aunque viva más que un odio entre catalanes, que una costumbre en aldea…

[Los empeños..., Jornada III, p. 132]

In An Evening’s…, Dryden gives us another example, with a duel between two English gentlemen and two Spaniards, resulting in the victory of the former and, it is to be supposed, the satisfaction of the audience. Nor does Dryden spare the Italians, accusing them, rather elegantly, of being cowards: MASKALL: I imagined them to be Italians. LOPE: Not unlikely; for they play’d most furiously at our Back-sides. [An Evening’s Love, Act II, p. 323]

It should not be forgotten that most of these works were performed not only in theatres, but privately at Court, especially when the King had suggested a source to the translators (Tuke, Crowne). Some verses might well, therefore, be altered to please the Monarch, who, moreover, was not averse to going to public theatres



Chapter 4.  Extralinguistic factors 

accompanied by his family and selected courtiers. In The Adventures…, for example, Henrique organises a proxy marriage between Porcia and a member of the army, provoking the disapproval of his friend Carlos: CARLOS: By Proxy, to contract Parties unknown to one another; this is only fit for Sovereign Princes, whose high Qualities will not allow of previous interviews; They sacrifice their Love to Public Good, consulting Interest of State, not Blood. [The Adventures…, Act I, p. 49]

Tuke did not miss the opportunity to exalt the values of the Monarchy, ready to sacrifice its own interest for the good of the State. Later, a passage is introduced that does not occur in the original, and which seems intended especially for the ear of the King: OCTAVIO: I joy to see you here, but should have thought it likelier to have heard of you at Court pursuing there the Recompences due to your transcendent Merit. ANTONIO: That is no place for men of my Moralitie. I have been taught, Octavio, to Deserve, but not to seek Reward; that does prophane the Dignity of Virtue; if Princes for their Own interests will not advance deserving Subjects, they must raise Themselves by a brave Contempt of Fortune. [The Adventures…, Act II, p. 70]

It may be assumed that Tuke was looking for some kind of recompense from the King for the years he had spent at his side in exile,9 and it is hardly surprising, therefore, that the only references to the King of Spain in Los empeños... were not translated. In some cases, his text even anticipates the presence of Charles II as a spectator. In a brief prologue to a court performance, Tuke begins by praising the figure of the King, feigning to be unaware of his presence in the room, and using the situation to win the complicity of the watchers:

Ah! He is there himself! Pardon my sight. My eyes were dazzled with excess of light; Even for the Sun, who all things else displays, is hid from us i’ th’ glory of his rays.

9. Tuke finally got his loyalty to the Monarch rewarded, at least partially. In 1664 he was knighted and given the title of “Baronet”.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Will you vouchsafe your presence? You, that were given to be our Atlas, and support our heaven? [The Adventures…, The Prologue at Court]

The influence of criticism may also influence the final version of a translation, and Dryden may well provide the best example. After the first performance of his Evening’s Love in 1668, and in the three years following its publication, Dryden felt it necessary to defend himself against the attacks of some critics on him personally and on his work, branding them “old opiniatre judges of the stage” in the prologue to the edition.10 The author defends himself against some of the attacks levelled against him (among the accusations were that he contravened the laws of comedy, and that he was a thief of works), concluding that, while acknowledging that his adaptation was far from perfect, “I do not think myself obliged to discover the imperfections of it to my adversaries, any more than a guilty person is bound to accuse himself before his judges”. Tuke, too, decided to introduce certain changes, which he included in the third edition, to make the work more correct and remedy errors (mainly in punctuation and orthography) to satisfy all those who had criticised him: “For those who have been so angry with this innocent piece”. Oddly enough, one of the first to criticise Tuke had been Dryden: on 5 February 1663, barely two weeks after the last performance of The Adventures…, the curtain rose on Dryden’s first comedy, The Wild Gallant, in the prologue to which Dryden criticised Tuke’s submissiveness to the “Spanish plot” and the play’s continual failures in plot and versification. Dryden was probably jealous that an author without literary training should have achieved such a success in a rival theatre. Whatever the flaws in Tuke’s play (which, in any case, he would correct in the third edition), the fact is that it triumphed over its critics, while The Wild Gallant was a complete disaster. Dryden did not give up, however, and at the end of 1663 he made the following observation in the prologue to The Rival Ladies:

You know have habits, dances, scenes and rhymes: High language often; ay, and sense sometimes. As for a clear contrivance, doubt it not; They blow out candles to give light to th’ plot.

This last line would seem to be an ironic reference to the various scenes in The Adventures… in which the progress of the action depended on darkness and confusion. Although it hardly made Dryden happy, the success of The Adventures… was most certainly celebrated by the impresario who brought it to the stage. Espasa 10. Although at this time there was no custom of publishing theatrical criticism, there were other ways of making it known how works had been received, such as diaries (Pepys, Evelyn), letters, memoirs or articles, which contained opinions and comments on the performances.



Chapter 4.  Extralinguistic factors 

Borrás (2000) uses the term “saleability” to refer to the choice of a specific theatrical work, a specific translator or of a form of translation, which concealed purely economic interests. Thus, some impresarios opted for famous authors in the source language, or well-known authors and translators in the target language with the sole aim of ensuring the profitability of the end product.11 Translation may therefore be conditioned by merely economic considerations. In the case of The Adventures…, the fact that the King himself had suggested the translation of the Spanish work could have generated an interest that would be highly beneficial for the box office. Tuke, however, complains again, in the third edition, of the haste with which he was obliged to present his work, which he had to consider finished when not all was yet ready: “Being importuned by those for whose benefit the play was intended, I was even forced to expose it before it was fit to be seen”. The unprecedented box office success of The Adventures… was what was needed for others to follow Tuke’s lead and turn to Spanish originals for works to translate, or as a source of scenes that might triumph on the London stage. Dryden himself, so critical of Tuke’s work, succumbed to the fashion for things Spanish in An Evening’s Love, and it is to be assumed that the impresarios wanted pieces that would fill the theatres. It is clear, therefore, that translations operated as means of introducing new themes, styles, and a different theatre tradition, that is, new cultures (Aaltonen 2000: 20–27). Official censorship could also have a decisive effect on translation. The English censors had the power to decide which works should be performed and published, and it is understandable that both impresarios and translators exercised caution. Sir Henry Herbert, named Master of the Revels en 1642, was for years responsible for examining all theatrical works before they were performed, after payment of the requisite fees by the theatre owner.12 All the translations analysed here obtained the necessary licence, and so there is no reason to suppose that their content was inappropriate in the eyes of the censors.13 Self-censorship would seem to have played a significant role in the work of the translators, although it is very difficult to decide whether the omission of certain parts of an original was due to potential official disapproval or to other reasons. Religious and political matters were those 11. The use of surrogate translators (see the first chapter) does not seem to have been usual in the period under study, although as we have seen there were rumours going around of a possible literary translation of The Adventures of Five Hours by Digby for subsequent reworking by Tuke, whose knowledge of Spanish was not as deep as the other’s (Hopkins 2003: 18–19). It has not, however, been possible to demonstrate this. 12. Hopkins (2003: 16) notes that the fee in the early years of the Restoration was 40 shillings. 13. It is also on record that the contents of plays were watched over during performance. Dryden makes clear in An Evening’s Love his antipathy towards censors, of whom he says: “Like Jews, I saw ‘em scatter’d through the Pit”.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

that attracted most attention from the censors, and in which the translator would most likely feel constrained.14 Thus, the Spanish word “Dios” is never translated as “God”, but as “Heavens”, “Powers above”, etc. Given their close connections with royalty, the translators would certainly be wary of including anything that might offend the Monarch, and this would explain the omission of references in the original to Spanish kings and queens, such as when Don Diego tells us he was born “en la Corte de Philipo / Villa insigne de Madrid” (El astrólogo..., p. 239). Something similar occurred with matters referring to the patrons who encouraged theatrical activity or gave economic backing to playwrights. As Carbonell affirms (1999: 222) reception of translated works is inescapably conditioned by the patronage system, as “it is difficult for a work to be translated unless it falls within a pre-established trend or fashion” (ibid.: 223, the translation is mine). Despite obvious differences, this restriction can be extrapolated to the Restoration period. The importance of Charles II in introducing Spanish theatre into England should not be overlooked, as he personally “commissioned” the translation of at least two works: The Adventures… and Sir Courtly Nice. Moreover, in the prologues there is continuous praise of the Monarch, as well as the dedications to important persons in political life: Tuke opens his edition publicly praising “Right Honourable Henry Howard of Norfolk […] since it seems to me a kind of ingratitude to be thankful in private”. It was this noble who lodged him in his house while he was engaged in the translation. But perhaps the most striking fact is that Tuke admits having been inspired by him when he was working on Antonio — “I designed the character of Antonio, as a copy of your steady virtue” — , when one would have expected him rather to concentrate on the personality of the Spanish protagonist, Don César.15 He continues with some words dedicated to the Monarch, who he thanks for commissioning the work at a moment when he was considering retiring from public life:

So th’ author, seeing his decaying light, And therefore thinking to retire from fight, Was hinder’d by a ray from the upper sphere, Just at that time he thought to disappear.

14. Self-censorship has existed in the theatre from the earliest times until very recently, as Merino and López Pérez-Heredia have shown with respect to English and American theatre in Spain in the twentieth century (see Rabadán [ed.] 2000). 15. Although we have no evidence of this in the English plays studied here, it would not be surprising if the playwrights and translators had in mind a specific actress or actor from a particular company when they were working on the profiles of the different characters. Also, of course, a popular performer could attract a bigger audience to the theatre.



Chapter 4.  Extralinguistic factors 

Sydserf dedicated his comedy to “most Noble Lord George Marquesse of Huntley, Earl of Eigney and Lord Strathbogy” for his “recreation”, in gratitude for the protection afforded him by the nobleman’s family during his stay in Scotland. Crowne, for his part, in the dedicatory epistle preceding his drama, addresses the Duke of Ormond, who he calls “Princely Patron and Encourager of Poetry”, although he is also fulsome in his praise of the sovereign. Finally, Dryden dedicates his work to William, Duke of Newcastle, “one of His Majesty’s most Honourable Privy-Council; and one of the most Noble Order of the Garter”, praising his loyalty to the King during his exile and his work as a patron of the arts. This way, he was hoping to repay him with a comedy that, as the translator himself admits, will not do justice to the many favours received. We are dealing therefore, in all cases, with works that seek the approval of the king and his circle, and the translators were eager, as we have briefly seen, to praise each one of them. It goes without saying that here the reception of the work outweighed any intention that might have been present in the Spanish original. 4.5 The translators’ profiles Throughout the twentieth century the various theories of translation made abundant reference to a theory widely subscribed to by publishers and reading public: a text is to be considered better translated the less it appears to be a translation, that is, when it could perfectly well pass for an original text: A translated text, whether prose or poetry, fiction or nonfiction, is judged acceptable by most publishers, reviewers, and readers when it reads fluently, when the absence of any linguistic or stylistic peculiarities makes it seem transparent, giving the appearance that it reflects the foreign writer’s personality or intention or the essential meaning of the foreign text — the appearance, in other words, that the translation is not in fact a translation, but the “original”. (Venuti 1995: 1)

However, in the eighties and nineties, voices began to be heard, Venuti’s among them, arguing for greater respect for the translator as author and authority. As one scholar put it, many literary translators “no longer want to be invisible but express the desire to intervene and be heard” (Stephanides 2001: 41). As we have already pointed out, the person putting his or her name to the translation could well be a guarantee of the success of a work of drama, to the point where, on occasions, the name of the translator might get more attention — and publicity — than that of the author, or, indeed, replace it. The covers of the English works studied here never mention the name of the original author, though he is referred to in the

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

prologues, epilogues or dedications. The translator comes to be seen, therefore, as an author rather than an agent of intercultural transfer (or, in Aaltonen’s terms, a creator rather than a mediator). In the case of Tuke, it was not until the third edition that the names of the translator and his source were made known: Calderón de la Barca, to whom Los empeños... was then attributed and who was referred to as “a celebrated Spanish author”. Although in the second edition some lines were added praising the work of the translator, his name did not explicitly appear until the third edition (1671), when rumours were already circulating regarding the authorship of the English work. In the case of Elvira, or… the names of the author and translator are absent from the first edition (1667) — it is stated only that it was written by “by a person of quality” —, an omission partially remedied in later editions: for example, the 1810 edition not only mentions Digby as the author, but the publisher briefly refers to another two translations, now lost. It is nowhere stated, however, that the source of Elvira, or… was a Spanish work. The case of Sydserf is different: his name appears as author under the title of his translation: “Tarugo’s Wiles: or the Coffee-House. A comedy as it was acted at his Highness, the Duke of York’s Theatre, written by Tho. St Serfe, Gent.” Neither in the Prologue nor in the subsequent dedication is there any reference to the original creator, Moreto. St. Serfe does, however, describe the type of comedy involved: “The plot is like all others of the time. A new Toot out of an old Horn”. Dryden, too, appears as the author of his An Evening’s Love, although he makes his sources clear in the introduction. Similarly, the name of Crowne is printed under the title of his translation as the creator, and is succinctly acknowledged as such in the dedication. The five translators thus share a desire to be considered the creators of their works. Although the names of Tuke and Digby do not appear in the first editions, this may be due to other circumstances. Tuke, for instance, makes it clear in the prologue that this is a work never performed before, and so the expectation aroused by novelty outweighed authorship, especially in the case of an author without literary ambitions:

Th’ are i’ the right, for I dare boldly say The English stage ne’er had so new a play; The dress, the author, and the scenes are new. This ye have seen before ye’ll say; ‘tis true.

The case of Digby is somewhat similar; as we have said, he did not even envisage the publication of his translations. As for the others, the authorship of the target text is made clear from the beginning. The source texts are placed in a situation of inferiority with respect to the target versions, and are mentioned only in passing.



Chapter 4.  Extralinguistic factors 

Again, Tuke, this time together with Dryden, is an exception, although for different reasons: the first because, being an unknown author and having translated a piece that would be a novelty on the English stage, he might have used the fame of Calderón to promote his work; and Dryden because since the genre was already familiar to London theatregoers, he did not miss the opportunity publication of his work offered him — given that he was a playwright and drama theorist — to defend himself against his detractors and show his literary credentials. In any case, the visibility of the authors of the target texts takes precedence over that of the original writer. It is obvious that the quality of a translation depends on who carries out the task and on the time and effort spent on it. The translator’s background, his education and knowledge of the target language and its culture, his links with the world of the theatre, his greater or lesser freedom to make decisions, and even the remuneration or favours he might expect to receive for the work done may all shed light on the strategies chosen. The five playwrights studied here share several personal circumstances that suit them for the tasks they chose to carry out. As we have seen, Tuke, Sydserf and Digby accompanied Charles II during his exile in France and the Low Countries, and these were places that were in contact with Spanish language and theatre: born in Madrid, Digby spoke Spanish perfectly and lived where opportunities to attend Spanish comedy performances abounded; Crowne also knew Spanish. As for Dryden, it is not clear how much Spanish he knew, but it is almost certain that he could read it. Also, he understood French and Italian, which doubtless helped him understand the Spanish classics. All were familiar with the theatre, in some cases as amateurs (Digby, Tuke), in others as fully-fledged playwrights (Crowne, Dryden), without forgetting that Sydserf had directed a theatre in Edinburgh after the Restoration of the monarchy. Furthermore, these translators had close links with the Court: Dryden and Crowne, for example, had the honour of being named Poet Laureate by Charles II, and, like the other translators, hoped to obtain favours of him, hence the eulogies to the Monarch in the prologues and even in the dialogue itself. A good example of how dialogue might be modified to please the Monarch comes from Samuel Tuke, who, in the third edition of The Adventures…, decides to include a song just because “it was desired by a Lady who has more than unusual favour for this play […]; I found it difficult to disobey the Commands of this Excellent Person”. All the signs are that this lady was Catalina de Braganza, through whose veins ran Spanish blood from her mother’s side.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

4.6 The influence of dramatic culture An analysis of the influence of non-verbal factors on drama translation would be incomplete without a reference to the importance of culture in the process. Here we shall limit our analysis to how the concept our translators hold of their activity and the weight of dramatic tradition are extralinguistic factors that clearly condition the practice of translation. The influence of culture as observed in the text will be dealt with later. We have already studied seventeenth-century translation theory, and noted how, at the end of the century, it was advancing towards the strategy that Dryden defined as “imitation”, the technique that would be used by a number of writers inspired by French and Spanish works. The comments of some of these translators on their activity are thus not surprising. Tuke, in the introduction to The Adventures… (1663) states the reason behind his translation:

To take all England with a Spanish plot; But if, through his ill conduct, or hard fate, This foreign plot (like that of eighty-eight) Should suffer shipwreck in your narrow seas, You’ll give your modern poet his writ of ease; For, by th’ example of the king of Spain. He resolves ne’er to trouble you again.

Once his fears of possible failure had proved groundless, in the third edition he justified certain of the changes made without detracting from the merit of the original text: “I take the boldness to sign my own opinion, that this is incomparable the best plot that I have ever met with: and yet, if I may be allowed to do myself justice, I might acquaint the readers, that there are several alterations in the copy, which do not disgrace the original”. Even so, this is, perhaps, the translation of the five which is closest to the original. Dryden, too, put on record his opinions regarding translation in the prologue to An Evening’s Love: Since no story can afford characters enough for the variety of the English stage, it follows that it is to be altered or enlarged with new persons, accidents, and designs, which will almost make it new. When this is done, the forming it into scenes and acts, disposing of actions and passions into their proper places, and beautifying both with descriptions, similitudes, and propriety of language, is the principal employment of the poet.

Dryden thus gives great freedom to the translator in the treatment of his sources, comparing him with a “gunsmith or watchmaker: the iron or silver is not his own;



Chapter 4.  Extralinguistic factors 

but they are the least part of that which gives the value: the price lies wholly in the workmanship”. Sydserf, in the prologue to the only edition of his comedy, has one of the gentlemen speak of the difficulties involved in the creation of a new work, as “the plot must be new, the language easy, the fancies intelligible, and the comical part so delicately interwoven, that both laughter and delight may each of them enjoy their proportions”. Finally, Crowne recognises, in the dedication that precedes his translation, that he took part of the title and design from Moreto’s No puede ser…, and describes the task of translation as difficult, at least in this case, which required “no ordinary skill and pains to build a little Shallop, fit only for the Spanish South Seas, into an English Ship Royal”. The metaphor could hardly be more appropriate, as a comedy had to be adapted to English culture with a view to performance at Court. These examples show a concept of the work of translation influenced by the literary and cultural circumstances of the time (and which, as we have seen, is consistent with the strategies adopted by these translators), with the added contribution of a long native theatrical tradition that, logically, conditioned how Spanish comedy was received. While it is true that London theatregoers were receptive to novelty of all kinds, especially after many years of hardly any dramatic activity, the weight of Elizabethan theatrical conventions was always in their minds. Although this is not the moment for a detailed examination of the elements of translation that might have been conditioned by the recipient culture, a few should be briefly mentioned here. This influence was responsible for some of the factors already pointed out: modifications in the text to adapt it to the target audience; enlargement of the three jornadas to five acts, in strict fulfilment of English precept; generalised use of prose or blank verse; fuller stage directions, which increased the dynamism of dialogue already made brisker by the breaking up of the long Spanish monologues; the marked protagonism of some of the principal characters, who even came to form part of the title of the translated work, at the expense of others; or the incorporation of song, which always was part of any theatrical performance. The destination culture also affected the translation of proper nouns, with the choosing of evocative native names or other Spanish ones that would be known to the audience. Words closely linked to the source culture were eliminated, and the target text suffered transformations arising from textual and on-stage humour. There were also variations in the recurrent themes of comedy, which might be partially modified to achieve better comprehension in the target language. All these aspects will be treated later. To conclude this section, we may affirm that non-verbal factors have a very considerable influence on the process of translation, with extralinguistic aspects being present in each decision that the translator has to take. Obviously, the twofold nature of the dramatic text supposes the continuous presence of those

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

indications that necessarily affect the translation work of Tuke, Dryden, Digby, Sydserf and Crowne. The impossibility of analysing actual stage representations of these translations is, unfortunately, an impediment to the more detailed study that this interesting aspect undoubtedly deserves.

chapter 5

Culture Translation is a complex process that affects at least two culturally different communities. The intrinsic richness of the destination culture is a fundamental factor in this process, as the higher or lower esteem in which it is held by the culture of origin will directly affect the way in which the translation is carried out, or, indeed, the decision whether or not to translate certain texts. As we have commented in the first chapter of this study, the translator, faced with cultural signs embedded in a written text that is in a linguistic code different from his or her own, has a whole range of strategies to choose from, from total conservation to absolute naturalisation. The choice of one strategy or another is a clear indicator of the degree of tolerance in the host culture: a predominance of conservation strategies implies a greater acceptance of the cultural signs of the source culture, while if naturalisation is more frequent, there is usually a lesser degree of permeability to things foreign on the part of the destination culture. Nowadays, the process of cultural internationalisation in which we are involved makes the recognition and acceptance of cultural signs different from our own much easier, resulting in a greater presence of the mechanisms of conservation. There was nothing like such a familiarity with other societies in Restoration England, and so the translators of the time had to choose the most suitable option when faced with a cultural element in the source text, either because it did not exist in their own language or because it carried a different meaning (ideology, usage, frequency, etc.) to that in their own language. In view of the difficulty in distinguishing between what is, in a strict sense, cultural and what is not, in our study of the translation of Spanish comedias into English we shall centre our attention on two fundamental aspects: the treatment of proper nouns (toponyms and anthroponyms) and cultural references, and so determine how our translators reacted to the cultural content of Spanish plays. 5.1 The translation of proper nouns Proper nouns occupy their own place within languages, and their specific properties distinguish them from other words or sequences of words. However, apart from their strictly linguistic features (grammatical number, possibilities for

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

combination with other categories, etc.), proper nouns have their own phonological, semantic and ethnolinguistic properties which are of great importance in the translation process. Phonologically, the evolution of these nouns when they are incorporated into the linguistic system of the target language is of great interest: in some cases they conserve the phonological features of the original, in others there is naturalisation and integration. From the semantic point of view, the most interesting thing about proper nouns is that they are symbolic objects, as, among their other properties, they refer to another object (individual, place, etc.) at the same time as they designate it. In the context of drama translation, we can divide proper nouns into two groups: those that mention persons (characters or names alluded to) and those designating places (which we know of through the words of the characters or the location of the action). Finally, there are the extralinguistic properties that provide information about the culture and organisation of a society, and which are also of considerable interest in the work of the translator. A particular proper noun evokes specific cultural, social or ethnic features: the Christian name “Carlos”, if designating a character in comedy, immediately implies that this is a gentleman, in accordance with the conventions of this kind of theatre — this name is never, or hardly ever, given to servants or peasants. Similarly, situating a work in Valencia (as Digby did his Elvira, or…) presupposes a series of expectations on the part of the audience as to what they will encounter in the play. These expectations are different from those they would have if the city were London, where many Restoration comedies were set. Apart from the influence of these three common characteristics, proper nouns may change in the destination language at the discretion of the translator. A number of factors come into play here, both linguistic (for example, the rejection of a name which is difficult to pronounce in the target language) and non-linguistic (sociolinguistic criteria, social circumstances, political pressure, etc.), not forgetting those that relate strictly to the approach the translator has adopted to his task (domestication, naturalisation, etc.). Let us again take the name “Carlos” as an example. In the early years of the Restoration, an English translator might consider it inappropriate to translate it as “Charles”, the name of his King; equally valid options would be to substitute it by another or to maintain the original spelling, giving the work a touch of the exotic and, at the same time, distancing the anthroponym from historical connotations in its own culture. As the motivations that lead the translators to choose among the various translation procedures available for proper nouns may be quite complex, it is difficult to draw up a synopsis of the strategies employed. The simple classification proposed by María Barros of the mechanisms used for the translations of proper nouns (in



Chapter 5.  Culture 

Franco Aixelá 2000: 79) comprises four strategies (translation, or the semantic passage to a similar noun; conservation or repetition; the adaptation, or orthographic or phonological transfer, of a proper noun to another in the target language; and substitution), but although it covers almost all the proper nouns encountered in this study, it is not fully satisfactory as, from the outset, she rules out of her study both names omitted and created names that did not exist in the original text. The excessively generalistic nature of her proposal also leaves out hybrid procedures. Franco Aixelá (2000) suggests a more complete range of possibilities, organised from a cultural perspective deriving from two fundamental positions: conservation and substitution; even so, overlaps, hybrid procedures and cases difficult to include in a specific category abound in his study. Neither of these authors refers specifically to proper nouns in the genre of drama, and it is not my intention to carry out an exhaustive analysis of all the strategies available for the translation of proper nouns in general, but to describe how they have been treated in the plays considered here. This section will therefore be organised, for the sake of greater clarity, into two fundamental blocks. A first subdivision will be made between anthroponyms and toponyms: for the first group, Carlson’s proposal (1983) will be followed, centred on the genre of drama, with a second division into the names of the characters, and those referred to in the dramatic dialogue; in the second group, place names, the terminology used is that proposed by Franco Aixelá, and detailed later. 5.1.1 Anthroponyms It is a fact that from the early days of the comedia playwrights have created names for their characters that suggest their occupation or have satiric possibilities. This device, customary in Spanish comedies in the case of the droll (names like Tabaco, Chispa or Talón are proof of this), was also very common in seventeenth-century England, both for high-ranking characters and servants: Volpone, Lady Sneerwell, Lady Graveairs, Pinchwife, Backbite, Candour, Snake, etc. are but a small sample. In Spain, it is curious to observe how Lope, Calderón and other dramatists did not hesitate to use the most common names for their characters, a feature that differentiates them from their English and French counterparts, who generally gave their characters anthroponyms having great evocative power. In English translations of Spanish comedies, the tendency, normally, was to retain the original names or to replace them by others that were also Spanish (Inés becomes Francisca, Don Pedro de Lara becomes Don Pedro de Mendoza, etc.) or English. At first sight, it would seem that the intention of the translator was to fit the anthroponym to the scene, situation and costume of the character, thus giving the work a certain exotic or continental air. However, as Carlson (1983: 287) points out, it is logical to suppose that the choice of certain names is a result of more important reasons than

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

mere exoticism. In this respect, the historical and geographical context of the destination language, together with its literary tradition, plays a fundamental role. Indeed, Carlson (ibid.: 288) points out that such strange sounding names for the contemporary British spectator as Abdelmelech, Zulema, Lyndaraxa or Benzayda, present in The Conquest of Granada (John Dryden), were not so outlandish for the audiences of three hundred years ago. The reason is that the basic source of information about these names, Historia de las Guerras Civiles de Granada (1595), by Pérez de Hita, although not at this time translated into English, was the reference for many other works that were translated. These names were therefore incorporated onto the English stage either directly from the Spanish sources, or from the French, whose translators had, in turn, used the Spanish sources for their versions.1 It is the aim of the following lines to show how the translators in this study transferred the personal nouns into English. To do this, four tables have been have drawn up — 12, 13, 14 and 15, one for each Spanish comedy and its corresponding English translation — again divided into two parts: one, with the names of “patent” characters, that is, those who are visible and participate in the development of the plot (ordered by the social rank that corresponds to them in the dramatic action); and all those who are referred to in the dialogue and may be other characters who never appear on stage, or historical or fictitious persons, etc. Those names that have no equivalent in any of the versions, Spanish or English, are marked with the symbol “Ø”. In the case of the characters participating in the action, Carlson’s proposal (1983) will be followed, with a division into two broad groups: “generic” and “speaking”.2 The first are characterised by a lack of specific significant etymology; the second, in contrast, have a different meaning that denotes certain characteristics of the bearer. Carlson divides the second, in turn, into four distinct categories, as follows (pp. 291–294): a. Names of animals. 1. There are various sources from which these names may have been introduced into England. Apart from the Historia… by Pérez de Hita, two more works from the “Morisco” inventory entered the English literary corpus through translations: the Historia de Ozmín y Daraja, in Guzmán de Alfarache (1599) by Mateo Alemán and the version of El Abencerraje inserted in Diana, a pastoral novel by Jorge de Montemayor printed in 1561. In 1598, Bartholomew Yong translated El Abencerraje under the title The Abindarraez and the Fair Sharifa. We have two seventeenth-century translations of Guzmán: the first by James Mabbe in 1622; and the second, dated 1655 by A. S. Gent (Rudder 1975). 2. Different scholars have given different names to these anthroponyms. Hermans (1988: 13) calls them “loaded” (as against those labelled “conventional”); Manini (1996: 161) speaks of “meaningful literary names”, while Mateo (1995b) refers to them as “nombres propios emblemáticos”.



Chapter 5.  Culture 

b. Names deriving from objects, generally related to the person’s trade. c. Names referring to a character’s social role or profession, such as “Father”, “Doctor”, “Aunt”, etc. (names frequently occurring in real life, such as “Smith”, “Taylor” or “Farmer” are excluded). These names refer to types rather than to the individuals themselves, and the characters are not actually called “Doctor” or “Father” but are simply referred to in this way. As a general rule, we never get to know their real names. d. Names which emphasise a character’s personality, and which usually, though not always, are formed of one of these possible combinations: adjective-verb, verb-name, adverb-name, verb-adverb: Greengoose, Merrythought, Politick Would-Be, Aimwell, Bellair, Heartfree, etc. Let us start with Coello’s play and see how the names of his characters were translated by Tuke: Table 12.  The translation of anthroponyms in Los empeños... and The Adventures... Los empeños de seis horas CHARACTERS PARTICIPATING

The Adventures of Five Hours CHARACTERS PARTICIPATING

HIGH RANK Don César Portocarrero Don Octavio Don Enrique Don Carlos Porcia Nise El Asistente LOW RANK Quatrín Arnesto Camilo Flora Un criado de Enrique Ø Ø

HIGH RANK Don Antonio de Mendoza Don Octavio Don Enrique Don Carlos Porcia Camilla The Corregidor LOW RANK Diego Ernesto Sancho Flora Sylvio, Gerardo, Pedro, Bernardino, Jago A Page Attendants, singers (Mirabel y Floridor)

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

ANTHROPONYMS ALLUDED TO

ANTHROPONYMS ALLUDED TO

Ø Don Diego de Alvarado Ø Ø Felipe el Grande “El de Orange” Marqués de Velada Gobernador Guillermo de Nasao Ø San Cirilo Christo

Marquis d’Olivera Don Pedro Conde de Oñate Juno Ø Ø Duke of Alva Ø Captain Drako Ø Ø

The use of “generic” names is almost complete for the characters participating, both those of higher and lower rank, within the context of the comedia genre. The droll, however, is a clear exception, as his name alludes to the quatrín, a coin of little worth,3 making it an evocative (speaking) name. All these are translated by anthroponyms that are also Spanish: in most cases the original name is transcribed literally (Octavio, Carlos, Porcia, Flora), or transferred to English with merely orthographic adjustments (Enrique becomes Henrique and Arnesto, Ernesto); in the other situations, the name chosen is totally new (Camilo becomes Sancho, for example), and in the case of Quatrín the name becomes Diego, and is no longer evocative. Even for the servants, the translator opts for Spanish names. Things are radically different when it comes to the characters alluded to, as there is not one case of the original anthroponym being maintained. Except for the mythological reference to Juno, Tuke remains consistent and gives Spanish names even to those persons not included in the original text. Thus, he informs us that the Marqués de Olivera (mentioned on three occasions) was the gentleman who helped arrange the proxy marriage of the daughter of Don Antonio, and of whom it is said that he is “the boast of our Army” (p. 72); the Conde de Oñate, he tells us, is the Emperor’s ambassador (a historical fact) and was accompanied on his campaign in Flanders by Porcia and her father, in this case mixing history and fiction. Coello tells us that the Marqués de Velada, another historical character belonging to the Court of the Spanish kings Felipe II and Felipe III, was a soldier who performed great feats in many battles; in English, however, he appears as the Duke of

3. Quatrín: “moneda antigua baxa” (Tesoro de la lengua castellana o española); “moneda de pequeño valor que corría antiguamente en España” (Diccionario de Autoridades).



Chapter 5.  Culture 

Alba,4 perhaps because this name was better known to the English public. Finally, it is worth noting the absence of any translation of the religious references to San Cirilo and Jesus Christ, the latter never being translated literally in the English target texts. Oddly enough, captain Drake, the pirate “with whom we fright our children” (p. 60) in the words of the English droll, is mentioned in the English text and is a new creation totally identified with the destination culture. Substitution is the strategy that Digby, like Tuke, most often applies in translating the characters of No siempre…, as seen in Table 13: Table 13.  The translation of anthroponyms in No siempre… and Elvira, or…. No siempre lo peor es cierto CHARACTERS PARTICIPATING

Elvira, or, The Worst Not Always True CHARACTERS PARTICIPATING

HIGH RANK Don Carlos Don Juan Roca Don Diego Centellas Don Pedro de Lara Doña Leonor (Isabel) Doña Beatriz LOW RANK Fabio Inés Ginés Ø Ø

HIGH RANK Don Fernando Solis Don Julio Rocca Don Zancho de Monezes Don Pedro de Mendoza Donna Elvira (Silvia) Donna Blanca LOW RANK Fabio Francisca Chichón Fulvio A Page

ANTHROPONYMS ALLUDED TO

ANTHROPONYMS ALLUDED TO

Violante Ø Ø Ø Marqués de Denia Ø Abindarráez

Violante (cousin) Camilla Lucilla Count Olivarez Duke of Medina Porcia Ø

4. Supposedly, Tuke refers to the Third Duke of Alba, Fernando Álvarez de Toledo, who was Chief of the Army and Governor General in Flanders, and was famous for having ordered the execution of two Catholic counts accused of complicity with the rebels. Gaw (1917: 56–7) believes that Tuke intentionally mentioned the Duke in an attempt to defend the barbarities he committed against the Dutch.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

For the characters participating, generic names in Calderon’s comedy are replaced by other Spanish names in the English text, including the moment when Doña Leonor / Elvira adopts a false name in her temporary condition of maid (appearing as Isabel and Silvia, respectively). On occasions the original anthroponym is retained, either literally (Pedro, Fabio) or with a slight orthographic adjustment (Roca > Rocca; doña > donna). The new creations also take Spanish names (Fulvio). The translator’s choice for the name of the gracioso is noteworthy, and probably reflects its comic possibilities when pronounced in English. It would not be too far-fetched to think that Digby might have selected Chichon after reading or hearing the name in another Spanish play,5 such as De fuera vendrá (Agustín Moreto), Darlo todo y no dar nada (Calderón de la Barca), etc. Only one of the persons alluded to is reproduced literally, Violante, the lady courted by Don Juan/Don Julio. The Marqués de Denia, the noble who writes the letter of recommendation for the old man so that he can discover the whereabouts of his daughter, becomes the Duke of Medina.6 The names of two persons referred to (Camilla and Lucilla, probably familiar at the time) are also added in the English version, and they give a certain Italian (or Spanish) air to the work. Digby’s inclusion of Count Olivarez (not present in the original) is more surprising; the maid Francisca mentions him in the third act: FRANCISCA: These are the things that wisdom hides and hatches under black cap or weighty jobbernoll; I mean Count Olivarez. [Elvira, or…, Act III, p. 459]

The fact that the Conde Duque de Olivares was responsible for Spain’s foreign policy throughout twenty-two years of wars and uprisings meant that the adviser of Felipe IV was a well-known figure in England, even though he had relinquished his post twenty years before the first performance of Elvira, or…. Also surprising is the omission of Abindarráez, especially since, as we have already mentioned, this name would not be strange to English ears. The reason it was not included is 5. Huerta & Urzáiz (2002: 33) have observed that Calderón never uses the phoneme represented by the spelling ch for the main characters, but reserves it almost exclusively for the names of the droll: Capricho, Chispa, Chocolate, Chato, Chacón, etc. The term “chichón” has humorous connotations in Spanish, as in the seventeenth century it referred to what is now called a “chinchón” o “chichón”, that is, “el tolondrón o torondrón, de thorus, en valenciano torondó, que se levanta en la frente, o en otra parte de la cabeza, causado de algún golpe” (a bump on the head caused by a blow) (Tesoro de la lengua castellana o española). 6. Digby may have chosen this name because it would be very familiar in England. Alonso Pérez de Guzmán, born in 1550 and son of the Sixth Duke of Medina Sidonia, was appointed by Felipe II commander of the Spanish Armada, and later Captain General of the Mar Océano, but he was unable to prevent the sacking and burning of Cádiz by the English.



Chapter 5.  Culture 

probably the humorous reference in which the name is inserted in the source text, and which would mean nothing to the English speaking audience: BEATRIZ: GINÉS:

¡Hombre! ¿Quién? Abindarráez, que por no quedarse hoy sin posada, llegó antes.

[No siempre…, Act III, p. 175]

Finally, Digby has Francisca mention the name of Porcia, a clear literary allusion to the Roman lady, daughter of Cato of Utica and wife of Marcus Brutus, who committed suicide after the death of her husband by swallowing hot coals. Hence Francisca’s exclamation: FRANCISCA:

Guarda… That’s a thing she has forbidden with such menaces, I dare as well become another Porcia, and eat red burning coals. [Elvira, or…, Act IV, p. 465]

Porcia was renowned for her chastity and integrity, which makes it ironical that the maid of Elvira fears to “convertirse en otra Porcia” (become another Porcia).7 Dryden distances himself slightly from these two translators in his treatment of proper nouns. If we limit ourselves to characters participating, Calderón, in El astrólogo...,… uses only “generic” names in all cases, and Dryden does likewise except for minor modifications (see Table 14 below). For the characters participating in the work, Calderón opted for generic names, with the exception of Morón,8 although “de Luna” for the false astrologer Don Diego hardly seems a casual choice. Dryden replaces all these by other Spanish names, with the exception of Beatriz (minimally adapted to English: Beatrix)9. In some cases these Spanish names are written differently than they would be in Spanish (Theodosia or Jacintha; the latter is transformed, by virtue of her Moorish

7. It is curious, however, that Digby refers here to the Roman Porcia and not to the Porcia of Shakespeare in The Merchant of Venice, who would be much more easily remembered by his audience. 8. Literally this means “montoncillo de tierra” (little heap of earth), according to the Diccionario de Autoridades. By extension, it also means “idiot” o “idler”, according to the second meaning given in the DRAE and which is in use today in South America. 9. Oppenheimer (1948: 557) is of the opinion that Violante and Quiteria appear as Aurelia and Camilla in imitation of Mlle de Scudéry’s translation of El astrólogo...

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Table 14.  Translation of the anthroponyms in El astrólogo… and An Evening’s Love El astrólogo fingido CHARACTERS PARTICIPATING

An Evening’s Love; or, the Mock… CHARACTERS PARTICIPATING

HIGH RANK Don Juan de Medrano Don Antonio Don Diego de Luna Ø Don Carlos Leonardo, viejo Doña María Ø Doña Violante LOW RANK Morón Otáñez, escudero Ø Beatriz Quiteria Ø Ø

HIGH RANK Don Melchior de Guzman Wildblood Don López de Gamboa Bellamy Don Pedro de Mendoza Don Alonzo de Ribera Donna Theodosia Donna Jacintha (Fatyma) Donna Aurelia LOW RANK Maskall Ø Pedro Beatrix Camilla Musicians Servants to Don Lopez and Don Alonzo

ANTHROPONYMS REFERRED TO

ANTHROPONYMS REFERRED TO

Gran Phelipe La Chirinos Mago Porra San Crispín Don Ginés de Rocamora (enseñante) Ø Ø Ø

Ø Ø Ø St George, St James / Alha, Mahomet Ø Squire Widdrington The Cid Corregidor

dress, into Fatyma). The translator chooses three English names, all of them evocative: Wildblood, Bellamy and Maskall. The first perfectly suits the character, a hotheaded gambler; the second highlights the qualities of the English beau, although Dryden appears to have turned to French to give an exotic touch to his



Chapter 5.  Culture 

cast.10 Finally, the translator indulged in a double play on the name Maskall:11 first, the trickster who masks all; second, the phonetic similarity to “rascal”. He eliminates “Morón”, as the corresponding English word would be unintelligible to audiences of the time. Within this same group of characters are included the musicians and a series of extras who help flesh out the action and make it more credible (for example, the presence in a church of “Ladies and Cavaliers at their devotions”). In Dryden’s work, therefore, there is a greater number of actors and actresses on stage, which enriches the performance; Oppenheimer (1948: 553) believes that the numerical superiority of characters in the English translation may also reflect the need to give a role to all the members of a particular theatre company. In the translation of names referred to there are hardly any equivalences. Mention of the Spanish monarch disappears, as do the names of the masters of astrology: the wizard Porra (an amusing choice for the supposed teacher of Don Diego) and Don Ginés (who enlightened Leonardo with his astrological knowledge). Also omitted is the mention of “La Chirinos”, the astute protagonist of El retablo de las maravillas, one of Cervantes’ most famous entremeses.12 It is particularly interesting that the exclamations invoking saints change according to the culture in question; furthermore, Allah and Mohammed are incorporated into the English text when the feigned Moslem Fatyma is the speaker. Finally, there is an allusion to a certain Squire Widdrington and a note of Spanish colour is added when the gallantry of El Cid is recalled. The mention of Widdrington is, without doubt, a nod to the spectator. In his attempt to throw Alonzo off the track, Bellamy has to use all his ingenuity to forestall the latter’s doubts regarding his astrological knowledge, exclaiming: “I was fighting as low as ever was squire Widdrington”. Bellamy is almost certainly referring to William Widdrington, expelled from Parliament in 1642,

10. As we have seen, these two gentlemen may well be the nobles who accompanied the English Ambassador on his journey through Spain, and who would certainly be known to the audience. As for Bellamy, it should not be forgotten that this was the name given to Don Juan in the anonymous translation The Feign’d Astrologer, which Dryden may well have consulted (Oppenheimer 1948: 553). 11. This phonic play is used in the dialogue for humorous effect when Bellamy addresses the droll in the following terms: “How now, Mr Rascal? Are you itching to be in?” (An Evening’s Love, Act V, p. 371). 12. This omission is understandable, as Cervantes’ character would not be recognised by the public of the time. It was, indeed, not until the twentieth century that the first translation of the Entremeses appeared.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

accused of treachery in 1649 and notorious for the moral baseness with which he tried to ensure a Parliamentary vote;13 hence the inclusion of “low fighting”. Moreto follows the same line as his fellow playwrights when choosing the names of his characters: all are Spanish and generic, with the exception, again, of the droll, who he calls Tarugo (and who will change his original anthroponym to Garulla and Crisanto de Arteaga when he adopts the personality of the tailor and the indiano, respectively). The literal meaning of Tarugo is “a wooden nail, used to hold fast the junctures of two wooden planks, and unite them as though they were nails of iron” (Diccionario de Autoridades), but, as with Morón or Quatrín, it has a double meaning with comic effect.14 Nor is the choice of Garulla a chance one, as this term also had two meanings at that time: “picked grape” and “gang of louts” (Diccionario de Autoridades). It would seem that Moreto had the first meaning in mind when he so named the false tailor, as can be deduced from the following exchange: DOÑA INÉS: TARUGO: DOÑA INÉS: TARUGO:

¿Cómo os llamáis? Garulla. ¿Qué decís? Soy del Corral, y cuando nací, mi cuna fue un cesto de vendimiar.

[No puede ser…Jornada III, p. 193]

However, the second meaning could not be more appropriate, given the chaos that the entrance of this character causes in the action. The the changes in the names used by Moreto are shown in Table 15 below. In his Tarugo’s Wiles, Sydserf adopts a mix of evocative and generic names for his characters, although he gives them all a certain Spanish or Italian air (in this case a relic of the Elizabethan Age, as, too, may be Lucilla and Camilla, already mentioned). Horatio, for example, is a name that would be familiar to English audiences of the time, and which had already been used to designate characters in plays as important as Hamlet or Kyd’s Spanish Tragedy (c.1586). Sophronia was a similar case, the name given to the daughter of Midas in the comedy Midas (1589), 13. The story starts with a Parliamentary debate called to pass the publication of a speech by George Digby concerning the Count of Stattford. In view of the low turnout, Digby’s followers wanted to make the most of their numerical superiority and prolong the session so that he would emerge immune. When some members withdrew the lights of the Chamber to bring proceedings to an end, Widdrington decided to go and fetch them back to continue the debate, causing a great uproar (in http://privatewww.essex.ac.uk/~alan/family/N-Widdrington.html). 14. The DRAE includes two entries for this term in colloquial language: “hombre de mala traza, pequeño y gordo” and “persona de rudo entendimiento”, a connotation which in all probability was also in the mind of the spectator of the Spanish comedy.



Chapter 5.  Culture 

Table 15.  Translation of the anthoponyms in No puede ser…, Tarugo’s Wiles and Sir Courtly Nice. No puede ser… CHARACTERS

Tarugo’s Wiles CHARACTERS

Sir Courtly Nice CHARACTERS

HIGH RANK Don Pedro Pacheco Don Félix de Toledo Don Diego de Rojas Doña Ana Pacheco Doña Inés Pacheco Ø LOW RANK Tarugo Garulla Crisanto de Arteaga Alberto Sancho, viejo, criado Manuela Ø Una criada [de doña Inés] Ø Ø Ø Ø Criados

HIGH RANK Don Patricio Don Horatio Don Rodrigo Sophronia Liviana Ø LOW RANK Tarugo Ø D. Chrisante de Pego Alberto Ø Stanlia Ø Locura Cook Hurtante, sastre Coffee-master Ø Servants (including a negro wench) Baboon & Negro-girl Ø Customers to the coffee-house

HIGH RANK Lord Bellguard (Andrew) Farewel Sir Courtly Nice Violante Leonora Surly LOW RANK Crack Stitch Sir Thomas Calico Hothead Testimony Ø Aunt Her woman Ø Ø Ø Mr Waytewell Ø

Músicos Ø Ø

musicians and dancers A parson Ø

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

NAMES REFERRED TO

NAMES REFERRED TO

NAMES REFERRED TO

Epícteto Ø Ø Ø Ø Homero Virgilio Petrarca Juan el Segundo Juan de Mena Caballero Marino Ronsardo El Sannazaro El Taso Garcilaso Carlos Quinto Retor de Villahermosa Góngora Mesa Enciso El de Villamediana Argos Mercurio Acrisio Danae Júpiter Briareo Ø Ø Doña Fátima de Aguirre Marqués de Villena Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Celestina Noé Merlín

Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Mercury Ø Ø Júpiter Ø Proteus Signior Lorenzo Dona Fatima Marques Villana’s Ø Julius Caesar Alexander the Great Scanderberg ** Ø Ø Ø

Ø Tyburn Aristotle Seneca King of Persia Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Mr Stitch Ø Uncle Rich Sir Nicholas Calico Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø



Chapter 5.  Culture 

NAMES REFERRED TO

NAMES REFERRED TO

NAMES REFERRED TO

Juanelo Eva y Adán Ø Tito Livio Rodrigo (Cid) San Lino Ø Ø Amantes de Teruel Vicario Ceron Santa Susana Barrabás

Ø Ø Orpheus Ø Ø Ø Ø Don Alonzo de Figueros Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø

Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Goquagos Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø

* These clients are referred to either as “customer” (four in all) or by their professional occupation: “Scholar” (two), “Barber”, “Baker” (and his wife) and, finally, the “Reformadoes”. ** Since the third act is entirely Sydserf ’s creation, there is no comparison of the anthroponyms referred to. These names are as follows: Bodin, Matchival, Plato, Tintarets, Paulo Verones, Casiopeia, Juno, Copernicus, Mahomet, Don Pantalions, Ambrose Parys, Cawdel Wright and Monsieur de Busy.

by John Lyly. The names of all the high-ranking characters have been changed, albeit with Spanish overtones, but the translator retains the name of the servant, Alberto, and that of Crisanto, adapted to Chrisante. There are three cases of anthroponyms in the target text, evocative in Spanish and which might also have been so for Restoration theatregoers, but with different connotations: these are Liviana, Locura and Hurtante,15 all associated with the character’s personality: Liviana with the adjective “live”, Locura with locus16 and Hurtante with “hurt”. Cook and Coffeemaster are also evocative names, obviously allusive to their professions. The presence of two coloured women, a dancer and a maid, strikes an exotic note. 15. The name Locura, as an allegorical figure, was very frequent in Spanish sacramental autos. In the early sixteenth century a farce by López de Yanguas was titled Triunfos de Locura. The adjective liviana was applied to women whose relations with men were loose, and it was employed in this sense in No puede ser.... “Hurtante” has a double meaning given the reputation tailors had at this time of being thieves. Everyone knew their tendency to keep the remnants of cloth for themselves, and Tarugo, in his conversation with Doña Inés, presents himself as a tailor “de lo que he de hurtar” (p. 192). 16. In seventeenth-century English “locus” could be understood as “something stupefying”, a meaning probably coming from the West Indies from the Spanish loco (mad) (The Oxford English Dictionary).

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Crowne’s translation strategy in Sir Courtly Nice is remarkable in that it significantly reduces the presence of Spanish anthroponyms in favour of English ones allusive to the character’s personality (with the exception of Aunt). Bellguard’s name represents his iron will in defence of his sister Leonora’s honour; that of Farewel his disinterest in Bellguard’s plan to marry his sister, due to an old family feud; the references of Courtly Nice and Surly are self-evident, while Crack is the wisecracker (hence his readiness to make fun of everything and everybody, adopting the surname Stitch when he acts the part of a tailor). Hothead lives up to his name too; Testimony is a very religious servant, whose name recalls the Ten Commandments; Waytewell waits upon Uncle Rich. Apart from the brief remarks in the dramatis personæ that prefaces the work, there are indications of character in the dialogue that clarify and justify the reasons the translator had for choosing these particular anthroponyms. Leonora affirms of Hothead that “he need no other Fire than himself ”, and that “he is always in a Flame” (Act I, p. 18), especially when faced with Testimony, “a most Zealous Scrupulous one” (ibid.); of Sir Courtly we are told that he possesses all that a woman could desire: “Gaiety, Gallantry, Delicacy, Nicety, Courtesy” (Act II, p.  30); for Farewell, Surly “uncovers to Nothing but his own Nightcap, nor to that if he be drunk, for he sleeps in his Hat” (Act I, p. 31), etc. In No puede ser… the translators respect the names referred to on only a very few occasions, which is hardly surprising, bearing in mind that in most cases the original anthroponyms appear in scenes or conversations that are not present in the translation. This happens with the literary discussions in the academy: these are eliminated in the English version, and with them multiple references to Spanish writers (Juan de Mena, Garcilaso, etc.); The contrary occurs with the third act of Tarugo’s Wiles: this is an invention of the translator, a radical departure from the source text, and so has its own proper nouns for the participants. This is not the moment to explain the context in which each of the anthroponyms in No puede ser…is mentioned and so only the most striking aspects visible when the original comedy and the translations are compared will be commented on here: in Sydserf, the literality of the translation of the names of Fátima and the Marqués de Villena is worth noting:17 the latter is a noble relative of the Pacheco family, whose signature is falsified so that Tarugo, disguised as an indiano, will be received by Félix (Crowne chooses for this purpose a supposedly wealthy relative of Lord Bellguard, and gives him the enigmatic name of Uncle Rich). Worth noting, too, is the employment of Spanish names by the translator for some of the 17. Moreto is probably referring to the Seventh Marqués de Villena, Don Diego Roque López Pacheco (1599–1653). Given that the surname of the family that is the protagonist of the play is also Pacheco, the Spanish author may have chosen this name precisely to give greater verisimilitude to the plot.



Chapter 5.  Culture 

persons referred to, such as don Alonzo, or signior Lorenzo, the tailor who assumes his personality and who, curiously, lives in Thimble Street (Crowne, for his part, chose the evocative name Mr Stitch for this character). In certain cases this omission may be due to the cultural connotations inherent in some of the names referred to, as with Juanelo, mentioned twice and always related to a popular saying: MANUELA:

Él sabe más que Merlín, y ya tendrá su desvelo hecho el enredo a esta hora; y estas cosas son, señora, como el huevo de Juanelo.

[No puede ser…, Jornada II, p. 199]

The expression “huevo de Juanelo” means “something that appears difficult, though the trick is easy to discover” (DRAE). Except for Uncle Rich and Mr Stitch, already mentioned, all the names referred to by Crowne in Sir Courtly Nice are his own creation, and none of them recalls the Spanish original. This contrastive analysis suggests certain conclusions regarding the translators’ treatment of the anthroponyms in the original. Although not all the Siglo de Oro playwrights coincided when choosing names for their ladies, beaux and servants, they did have certain features in common, such as the selection of Juan, Diego or Félix for the male protagonists; Juana, for example, for the principal ladies; and a repertory, generally suggestive, of patronymics for the drolls, rarely called Carlos or Juan. The Spanish works studied are no exception, and the names of their characters fit in with the tradition of the genre: for the beaux, Don Carlos and Don Diego emerge as the favourites, followed by Don Juan and Don Pedro. While coincidences are not found in the names of the ladies, there are few surprises, although two (Beatriz and Inés) are assigned the same anthroponym as is used in another work for the maids (indeed, in Calderón’s comedies, the name Inés is assigned to maids on various occasions). Flora also appears as a servant’s name, and again was repeatedly used by Calderón for such characters. As for the figure of the droll, the tendency was to characterise it either semantically (Quatrín, Tarugo, Morón) or by its sound (Ginés, a common antrophonym in Calderón, in this particular case rhymes with the name given to the female counterpart, Inés). Finally, the names of Fabio and Otáñez, very common in other Spanish comedies of the time to designate drolls and servants, also appear. Among the characters referred to, a distinction must be made, once again, between the fictitious ones that form part of the plot and those that allude to mythological and historical characters, etc. In the first group, characteristic generic names abound: Violante, Don Diego, Don Ginés, etc. In this respect, it should

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

be pointed out that several names that were common in seventeenth-century Spain never designate characters in comedies. The work of Morley & Tyler (in Huerta & Urzáiz 2002a: 37) on names in the times of Lope de Vega is most revealing, and can be extended to the work of Calderón and other Spanish playwrights. These authors point out the absence from Lope’s comedies of two names that were very popular at the time: Felipe and José. The absence of the second may be due to religious factors (although the name of Mary is used; see El astrólogo fingido) while in the reigns of Felipe II, Felipe III and Felipe IV, Lope may have wished to avoid the name of the sovereign, something that, a priori, Calderón also did with his king, Carlos II. In El astrólogo... there is an allusion to the name Felipe, and, paradoxically, the name Carlos is employed for one of the characters, a noble figure of irreproachable morality Translation strategies differ depending on whether the names belong to characters participating in the action or who are only referred to. In the first group, treatment evolves over time. In The Adventures…and Elvira, or… the tendency is to replace the names by others that are also Spanish and generic, only in a few cases retaining the original (Don Carlos, for example, is transferred to the target text even though it is the name of the English monarch). These changes may simply be due to a translator’s whim, or they may reflect a desire for names that would be more familiar to the new audience. Dryden and Sydserf however, although they maintained this tendency, began to include English names in their translations, all of them evocative (Wildblood, Locura, etc.). Finally, Crowne uses hardly any Spanish names, and he too shows preference for English speaking names, moving closer to the norms prevailing in English comedy of the time. There is, therefore, an evolution in strategy from foreign-sounding names to the almost entirely native ones of Sir Courtly Nice. The trend is less uniform in the names referred to, as a consequence of the heterogeneity of the comedies under study in this respect and the idiosyncrasies of the translators. However, we can still establish a certain parallelism with the strategies applied to members of the dramatis personæ: Tuke and Digby, while they do not retain the original names, replace them by others that are also Spanish, as do Sydserf and Dryden, although they begin to introduce some English names. Crowne is at the opposite extreme: the names referred to that he introduces into his translation are not, as a general rule, present in the original text; they are all English, although two are evocative and have a clearly humorous intent: a tailor named Mr Stitch and a wealthy relative, this time mentioned in the source text, and who is called Uncle Rich.



Chapter 5.  Culture 

5.1.2 Toponyms As we have just seen, the anthroponyms of the comedies under study are not treated in a homogeneous fashion by translators, due both to their own idiosyncrasies and to the cultural and literary environments in which they lived. Something similar occurs with the translation of place names, largely on account of the wide variety of original works and translations. The proposal presented here for the translation of these toponyms, leaving to one side morphosyntactic and spatial considerations, is determined by conservation and substitution, and always from a cultural perspective (though these strategies may combine, and on occasions the translator may have recourse to others for one and the same word). Franco Aixelá (2000: 83 et seq.), as mentioned above, suggests a division for the study of the translation of names in general around two extremes, conservation and substitution, which can in turn be subdivided into a series of mechanisms ordered according to their greater or lesser cultural adaptation to the destination language. Since this classification, which we have adopted as the most appropriate for our study of toponyms, is not limited only to place names, Aixelá also uses anthroponyms to illustrate the strategies proposed, which are as follows: 1. Conservation: a. Repetition (“Arthur” → “Arthur”); b. Orthographic adaptation (“Lecky” → “Leckey”); c. Terminological adaptation, or the substitution of the significants that make up the original name by others formally recognised in the target language (“London” → “Londres”); d. Linguistic translation, total or partial transference of the original content of the significant of the proper noun (“New York” → “Nueva York”); e. Extratextual gloss, or the use of any of the above devices in the form of a footnote, glossary, etc.; f. Intratextual gloss or explanation (“Metropole” → “Hotel Metropole”), an explanatory addition integrated into the target text as an inherent part of it. 2. Substitution: g. Limited universalization (“Pegasus” → “Parnaso”), a strategy that consists of substituting the original proper noun by a different referent, but which is still considered exotic as it is characteristic of the cultural universe of the source; h. Absolute universalization (“Painted Deserts” → “la pradera”), or complete neutralisation of the original proper noun, converting it into a cultural referent not culturally attributable to any specific society: i. Naturalization (“John” → “Juan”), or substitution of the proper noun by another whose referent is considered part of the heritage of the recipient culture; j. Ideological adaptation, which consists of changing an ideologically unacceptable original formulation into one that better fits in with the social values of the destination culture (“God and Clod” → “Ángel y bestia”); k. Deletion or suppression of the original proper noun (“O’Grady” → “Ø”); l. Autonomous creation, or the introduction of a proper name that did not exist before (“Ø” → “York”).

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

We shall proceed to analyse the way in which the different translators transferred into English the toponyms present in the original plays, and, finally, draw the pertinent conclusions regarding the mechanisms employed according to the model described. However, our corpus necessitates the inclusion of a new strategy not mentioned in the proposal of Franco Aixelá, and which consists of substituting the original toponym by another that is also Spanish for reasons that are not always easy to determine. So as to maintain certain coherence with the terminology suggested by this scholar, we shall call this strategy “exotic naturalisation”: a Spanish toponym is replaced by another, also Spanish, which is usually familiar to the audience of the target language, but allows Spanish exoticism to be retained. Finally, the symbol “Ø” in the target text marks an omission on the part of the translator, while if it is located in the column corresponding to the source text it indicates a creation of the translator. We shall begin by comparing the place names appearing in Los empeños... and the way in which they have been translated into English (Table 16): Table 16.  Translation of the toponyms in Los empeños... and The Adventures... Los empeños de seis horas LA ESCENA EN SEVILLA

The Adventures of Five Hours THE SCENE: SEVILLE

Flandes Ungria Bruselas Bravante Juliers Calle de San Vicente Calle de las Armas Calle de la Merced Río Mosa Mastrique Lamburque Bravante Europa Rimberque Gueldres España Ø Sevilla Ø Ø

Flanders Ø Ø Ø Ø St Vincent’s Street Ø St Yago’s Street Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Salamanca Seville Las Pintas The Low Countries



Chapter 5.  Culture 

Tuke uses conservation and substitution strategies, with the second predominating. In the first group we find three cases of terminological adaptation for Flanders, San Vicente and Sevilla (the latter being the place where the scene is set). All the remaining examples are substitutions, omissions and autonomous creations, with the exception of la calle de la Merced, which appears exotically naturalised as St Yago’s Street. The translator does not, however, preserve the name of la calle de las Armas, perhaps so as not to include more details that, far from clarifying the space of the action, might confuse the target spectator. Proper nouns corresponding to European geographical locations are totally omitted: a first group refers to the journey the protagonist makes, together with the Ambassador, to Hungary, Brussels and, finally, Bravante, where she will get to know her future husband. The second group refers to the regions where the deeds of el de Orange took place, narrated by Don César in a criticism of the Duke, and omitted in the target language. As the Low Countries were Spanish possessions at that time, the names would be familiar to Spanish audiences, though probably not so much as in the London theatre. There are certain autonomous creations: Salamanca, from where the father of the English droll came, and where he worked as a merchant; the mention of Las Pintas (referring to a gambling den in Seville; the name was appropriate, as “pintas” is the name of a card game); and finally the “Low Countries”, inserted in a dialogue that does not exist in the Spanish text. Digby applies the same strategy as his colleague Tuke, and substitution predominates over conservation as seen in Table 17: Table 17.  Translation of the place names in No siempre… and Elvira, or…. No siempre lo peor es cierto LA ESCENA EN VALENCIA

Elvira, or, The Worst Not Always True SCENE- VALENCIA

(iglesia de) San Isidro Ø Italia (a servir al rey) La Corte Madrid Toledo Nápoles Ø Vinaroz Zaragoza

Ø Ocana Wars of Milan Court Madrid Ø Ø Rome Ø Ø

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

In the group of conserved toponyms, we find two repetitions (Valencia, Madrid) and a terminological adaptation referring to the capital of Spain (Corte → Court). As for substitutions, there is one example of limited neutralisation: Don Carlos announces a journey to Italy to serve the King, while the translator alludes to the “Wars of Milan”. Later on, Calderón specifically mentions that Don Carlos is planning to go Vinaroz, from where two galleons will leave destined for Naples. These allusions disappear in the target text although, as with the case of the city of Zaragoza, this may be because they are inserted in a saying where rhyme is crucial.18 Curiously enough, Digby mentions the small town of Ocaña, where Don Carlos, accompanied by Leonor, spent the night on the way to Valencia in the English text. This can be interpreted as a sign of his familiarity with the geography of Spain. Omissions and creations are the strategies that predominate in the translation of John Dryden, An Evening’s Love (Table 18). The second are fully justified by the presence of scenes and situations that are an invention of the translator, or also by the English origin of Bellamy and Wildblood, who in their conversations often refer to their country (England, Hyde Park) and to their stay in Madrid, while mentioning parts of the city that do not appear in the original: The Prado or Calle Maior (where the ladies live). There are various reasons for the omissions: the disappearance of La Montaña and las Sierras de Aspa (probably invented to highlight the parody inherent in the situation) is due to the elimination of the scene in which Otáñez wishes to fly to la Montaña, passing over Aspa, thanks to the powers of the astrologer. Other omissions are more difficult to explain, such as Italia, Mediterráneo, Nápoles and Argel, all places where the supposed astrologer learnt his skills, or the calle del Prado, and del Lobo, one of the many areas where the false astrological feats of Don Diego were retailed, as well as the allusion to the Villa insigne de Madrid. The most striking substitution in Dryden’s text is that of Zaragoza, where Don Juan stopped on his journey to Flanders, which appears in English as San Sebastián (St Sebastians), another exotic naturalisation. There are only three cases of conservation (Madrid → Madrid) and two terminological adaptations: Flandes → Flanders, to where Don Carlos heads in his feigned flight, and La Corte → Court.

18. The inclusion of the city of Zaragoza, and not another, in the original comedy would seem to be due to the rhyme, as the saying in which it is inserted is not recorded as a proverb: “Ya pagó su pecado / bastante en casa de aquella moza / puesto que sin venir de Zaragoza / vino descalabrado” (p. 112). The phonetic ending of the city lent itself to this kind of word play; there is an example in the Refranero general ideológico español: “Una vez fue una vieja a Zaragoza y vino moza”.



Chapter 5.  Culture 

Table 18.  Translation of the toponyms in El astrólogo... and An Evening’s Love El astrólogo fingido LA ESCENA EN MADRID

An Evening’s Love; or, The Mock … SCENE- MADRID 1665

Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Flandes Madrid La Corte Corte de Philipo, Villa insigne de Madrid Italia Mediterráneo Nápoles Argel Zaragoza Calle del Prado Calle del Lobo Ø La Montaña Ø Ø Tierras de Aspa Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø

England Africk America The Prado Hyde Park Flanders Madrid Court Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø St Sebastians Ø Ø Calle Mayor Ø Hyde Park Andalucía Ø The Indies Lapland London Morocco Peru Greenland

Sydserf and Crowne follow roughly the same path, although they differ from the aforementioned in their employment of strategies of domestication that convert their translations into works with an atmosphere that is more English than Spanish, especially Sir Courtly Nice. The localisation of a scene is of capital importance in understanding how the translators will treat the toponyms in the text. Thus Moreto sets the action in Madrid, as does Sydserf, although the latter sets part of the plot in a coffee shop where, while it is situated in the Spanish capital, the clients and the subjects they debate are genuinely English. Finally, Crowne opts for London as the setting for the action:

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Table 19.  Translation of the toponyms in No puede ser…, Tarugo’s… and Sir Courtly Nice No puede ser… LA ESCENA EN MADRID

Tarugo’s Wiles SCENE: Madrid / A coffee-house

Sir Courtly Nice SCENE: Covent Garden

Ø Ø Ø Ø Madrid Grecia Roma Francia Toledo España (Retor de) Villahermosa Los Hueros Ø Ø Marruecos

Ø England Ø Ø Madrid Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø England Thimble-Street * Alexandria / America / Amazons / Patagoons Mexico The Indies Spain Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Peru Sevil Ø Ø Ø Ø

Oxford England Utopia The Thames Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø France

Méjico Indias Ø Cádiz Armenia Guajaca Mechoacan Ø Puerta del Sol (iglesia de) El Carmen Ø Ø La Corte Retiro Casa de Campo Aranjuez

Ø East Indies Ø Ø Ø Ø Ø King’s Box [restaurant] Ø Westminster Abbey Ø Ø London Ø Ø Ø



Chapter 5.  Culture 

No puede ser… LA ESCENA EN MADRID

Tarugo’s Wiles SCENE: Madrid / A coffee-house

Sir Courtly Nice SCENE: Covent Garden

El Prado El Parnaso Ø Ø Ø

Toledo-Street Ø Ø Ø Ø

Ø Ø Bantam Holland Harlem

*As in the case of the translation of personal names, I here mention all the toponyms occurring in the third act of the target text which are not present in the original: France, Sestos, Abidos, Constantinopla, Spain, England, West-Indies, Salamanca, London, Geneva, Gaseoigne, New England, Africa, Kidderminster, Banbury, the Atlantick Ocean, Tartusoly, Straits of Magelan, Terra Australia, Brumswick, Holland, Babilon, Lacedemon, Pharsulia, Parnasus, Flanders and Bedlam.

Table 19 illustrates how Sydserf retains very few proper nouns: he repeats the name of the city of Madrid, while he terminologically adapts las Indias (place of origin of the Marqués de Villena). Substitutions are in the majority in his text: the name of the place in which the false tailor (Tarugo) learnt his trade, Marruecos, and the street to which Sofronia and her maid head, Toledo Street, once freed by the droll. The strategy employed in both cases is exotic naturalisation: the translator prefers to exaggerate the scene still more and replaces Marruecos by four destinations visited by the tailor, accentuating the comic function of the character. He does the same with El Prado, in this case referring to the Madrid street of the same name.19 However he chooses simple naturalisation for the place of origin of the droll: in the Spanish text he was born in Los Hueros (in the Madrid area, near Alcalá de Henares),20 while Sydserf makes it clear he is from England. Sydserf also omits many toponyms present in the original text, for example the countries mentioned in the literary dialogue that takes place in the academy in the first act, where, however, Villahermosa is mentioned in an allusion to its retor, Bartolomé Leonardo de Argensola. The same happens with the names in the stories told by Tarugo, which have no English equivalent (Cádiz, Armenia); with the origin of the trinkets Tarugo says he brings from the Indies (Guajaca and 19. It seems a contradiction that Sydserf omits the reference to El Prado when, a year before, Dryden had done exactly the opposite, and incorporated the street of The Prado in his An Evening’s…, which suggests that this name would not be unknown to the English audience. 20. Moreto did not write this name by chance; his choice is determined by the meaning of the word “huero”, or egg, which “por no estar fecundado por el macho, no produce cría, aunque se echa a la hembra clueca” (DRAE). Tarugo humorously justifies their provenance to Doña Ana: “Es que mi madre / cuando pensó que era huero / me halló pollo” (No puede ser…, Jornada I, p. 191).

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Mechoacan) and with the references to areas of Madrid and its provinces. Although autonomous creations do not abound (Peru, Sevil, etc.) the originality of the street where the tailor lives, Thimble Street, is worth noting: the humorous effect seems to have outweighed the incongruity of an English street name in a Spanish city. It is in Crowne, however, that we find the greatest incidence of naturalisation in the treatment of Spanish toponyms: there is not one that makes us think that we are facing a Spanish work; on the contrary, there is an abundance of autonomous creations that constantly remind us that London is where the action is taking place: England, the River Thames, The King’s Box restaurant, etc. There is no place here for anything that sounds Spanish, nor for the exotic naturalisations to which other translators resort: La Corte is moved to London, Spanish churches become English (El Carmen → Westminster Abbey); even the false tailor appears to have learned his trade in France, a choice probably made with comic effect, as French fashions were frequently used at the time as objects of mockery. As we have seen, conservation techniques were not those most often used by the English playwrights when translating toponyms. Substitution is the dominant strategy, especially in the form of creations and omissions. It is difficult to discern a common pattern underlying the motives of these translators in omitting certain toponyms and including autonomous creations, although in most cases they derive from profound changes in the translation process where new scenes and situations require new proper nouns. There are some cases, especially in Tuke and Digby, of exotic naturalisations and creations that, while they do not always respect the original locations, at least confer a Spanish background to the action. The presence of English toponyms steadily increased until the complete domestication in Sir Courtly Nice. Here, London’s Covent Garden becomes the site for a story whose characters and locations have little to do with the literary academy of Doña Ana and the Madrid that was the backdrop to the originals.21 5.2 The translation of cultural references “Cultural reference” is a broad concept that includes all references in the text that are, in one way or another, related to the country and culture in which the original work was created. For reasons of methodological efficiency, and in view of the difficulty of comprehensively classifying all the references, we shall divide them into 21. Restoration dramatists usually located their works in places well known to their public, and inserted in the dialogue particular areas of these localities, such as Covent Garden in Sir Courtly…. Indeed, Crowne’s choice of Covent Garden is not by chance, given the bad reputation of the area at that time. The weight of the English theatrical conventions of the time over other considerations is therefore clear.



Chapter 5.  Culture 

two main groups: on the one hand, cultural lexical items; on the other, a broader and more heterogeneous group that includes other references deserving of attention: sayings, exclamations, forms of address, etc. The analytical method we shall employ in this contrastive study will again be based on a proposal by Franco Aixelá. It was expounded in a monographic article (1996) dealing with what the scholar termed “culture-specific items”, and was substantially the same as that used to analyse the translation of toponyms presented in a subsequent publication (2000). As we have already seen this scholar groups translation strategies into two basic groups: strategies of conservation (orthographic adaptation, terminological adaptation, linguistic translation, extratextual gloss, intratextual gloss) and of substitution (limited universalization, absolute universalization, naturalization, ideological adaptation, deletion, autonomous creation). There are, however, two slight differences between this division and that centred on cultural elements: “terminological adaptation” is missing from the group of conservation strategies, but another, “repetition”, or the technique by which “translators keep as much as they can of the original reference” is retained (1996: 61). In the group of strategies of substitution, “ideological adaptation” is also missing, but “synonymy” is included with an aim to avoid excessive repetition of the same cultural term so that “the translator resorts to some kind of synonym or parallel reference” (Bacardi → “aguardiente de caña”, “ron”; ibid.: 63). These two groups are not to be considered closed or impervious, however; additional strategies may be admitted, and those existing may combine to form new ones, as in the case of “compensation” (made up of an omission and an autonomous creation). Before we proceed to use this method to our analysis of cultural references, two observations are required: first, Franco Aixelá applies this division to what he terms “culture-specific items”, which he divides, in turn, into two categories: proper nouns and common expressions. In this present study the first group must obviously be excluded, as it has already been treated separately because of its specific connotations in the field of drama. The second aspect to be borne in mind is that this division is not intended, initially, for units greater than “items”; here, however, for practical reasons we shall apply it not only to the treatment of cultural lexical elements, but also to other cultural references that make up the second part of this section. 5.2.1 Culture-specific items Aixelá defines these elements as “textually actualized items whose function and connotations in a source text involve a translation problem in their transference to a target text, whenever this problem is a product of the nonexistence of the referred item or of its different intertextual status in the cultural system of the readers of the target text” (1996: 58). This definition leaves the door open for any term

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

having cultural connotations, either in itself or on account of its function in the text as it is perceived by the destination culture. For example, the lexical item chapín, present in some of the comedias,22 refers to an item of women’s footwear peculiar to Spanish culture, and defined by the Diccionario de Autoridades as “calzado propio de mujeres sobrepuesto al zapato para levantar el cuerpo del suelo”. But chapín also has certain associated meanings, as it was an item of footwear suitable only for adult women, and also its use was compulsory in the presence of the Queen (Madroñal 2000: 255). Neither the item itself nor its connotations would be recognisable in English culture, hence its omission by the translators in all cases. We shall now look at the way the translators turned Spanish cultural lexical elements into English. Given their abundance and heterogeneity, some kind of classification is required to facilitate an orderly study. We can make a division into three groups: culture-specific items in the most often recurring semantic fields of the source texts, that is, clothing, parts of the house and objects that are accessories to the action; secondly, elements proceeding from other semantic areas, whose formulation, even though they are not so frequent in the target texts, may be equally significant. Finally, those items that are present in the translations but are not found in the respective Spanish texts, that is, they are creations of the translators. The three areas included in the first group (clothing, dwellings and accessory elements) will be used to illustrate the general tendency in the translators’ treatment of culture-specific items of the source text. To assist in this, we have three tables which show the three different items of the Spanish works and the ways in which they are translated in the target language. These tables do not show those which are autonomous creations of the translators, that is, those which belong to the third group (although they will be referred to in the subsequent commentary) except the ones that coincide with lexical terms present in source texts other than their own and which are shaded grey. Tables 20, 21 and 22 show the culture-specific items that, extracted from notes and from the dialogue, are related to the characters’ dress and complements (Table 20), parts of the house (Table 21) and accessory objects (Table 22):

22. This is mentioned in three works: Los empeños... (“En la silla entra / que no se te tuerza el chapín”, p. 125); El astrólogo... (“Pero para que tocara / sólo un chapín de mis pies”, p. 238); and No puede ser... (“...de ser de plata / fuera el chapín de la Reina”, p. 207).



Chapter 5.  Culture 

Table 20.  The translation of culture-specific items: clothing and complements Work

LEXICAL TERMS

The Adventures...

Elvira, or…

An Evening’s Love

Tarugo’s Wiles

Sir Courtly Nice

All

manto

veil [veil’d]

veil [veil’d]

Vail

[veil’d]

All

(traje de) camino

riding clothes

Ø

Ø

Em, As, Np As, Np

chapín botas y espuelas (traje) de noche hábito de Santiago (traje) de criado papahígo capa gorra plumas alhaja sortija cadena tabaquera

Ø ---

ridingcloaths, habits -----

vizard [vizarded] Ø

Ø Ø

Ø Ø

Ø Ø

---

---

Ø

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

habit of a Knight Ø

ridiculously dressed Ø

--cloak ----Ø -------

--cloak hat --Ø -------

Ø Ø --Ø Ø Ø Ø ---

----hat ----Ø --Ø

sword

sword, steel, dagger --Ø ----Ø

sword

----Ø ----Ø --sneezingbox sword

sword

-----------

dagger Ø Ø Ø ---

dagger Ø Ø Ø ---

As Np Np As As Np As Ad, As, No As, Np As Np All Np No, Np Np Np No

espada / acero puñal / daga escopeta faldriquera basquiñas enaguas, valonas, tocas

-----------

Em = Los empeños de seis horas; As = El astrólogo fingido; No = No siempre lo peor es cierto; Np = No puede ser el guardar una mujer. Autonomous creations

--- Non-existent in the source text

Ø Omissions

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Table 20 reveals a total absence of conservation strategies. Among the substitution strategies, omission prevails with some striking examples (An Evening’s…). There are also cases of naturalisation, especially in the apparel typical of comedy: swords, cloaks and outdoor wear, sometimes accompanied by the employment of synonyms (Digby uses cloaths and habits to refer to the same term, and has no hesitation in using “dagger” with the same sense as that expressed by espada in the original). The translation of hábito de Santiago is an interesting case; limited universalization turns it into “habit of a Knight” in Tarugo’s…, while Crowne’s choice for the term is the consequence of an absolute universalization that borders on new creation. Autonomous creations of cultural lexical items referring to clothing are, indeed, very frequent in the translated works: home-dress, chamber-dress (The Adventures…, pp. 63 y 76); (in her) undress (Sir Courtly…, p. 22), handkerchief (The Adventures…, p. 111; An Evening’s…, p. 321; Elvira, or…, p. 460), gown (Elvira, or…, p. 454; An Evening’s…, pp. 297 y 316; Tarugo’s Wiles, p. 11); gorget (Elvira, or…, p.  455; An Evening’s…, p.  316); petticoat (Elvira, or…, p.  459; Sir Courtly…, p. 100; An Evening’s…, p. 297); apron (Elvira, or…, p. 456; Sir Courtly…, p. 74); shoes (Elvira, or…, p. 465; Sir Courtly…, p. 31), silk-weaver (An Evening’s…, p. 346); vizor (An Evening’s…, p. 342); nightcap (Sir Courtly…, p. 31); periwig (Sir Courtly…, p. 31); cravat (Sir Courtly…, p. 48); diaper napkin (Sir Courtly…, p. 76). Table 21.  The translation of culture-specific items: dwellings Work*

TERMS

The Adventures...

Elvira, or…

An Evening’s...

Tarugo’s Wiles

Sir Courtly Nice

Em, No

cuadra/ cuarto

lodgings, chamber

chamber, closet, lodging

lodging, apartment

Em

sala/pieza

room

---

lodgings, chamber, bedchamber ---

All Em Np Np Np As As

reja tapias corredor galería oratorio aposento retrete

within these walls balcony, Ø Ø -----------

lodgings, closet, chamber, quarters ---

Ø -------------

Ø --------Ø Ø

Ø --Ø gallery closet -----

Ø --Ø Ø lodging -----

Em = Los empeños de seis horas; As = El astrólogo fingido; No = No siempre lo peor es cierto; Np = No puede ser el guardar una mujer. Autonomous creations

--- Non-existent in the source text

Ø Omissions



Chapter 5.  Culture 

Table 22.  The translation of culture-specific items: accessory objects Work

TERMS

Em

broquel y bayeta bufete pucheros y cantarillas bugía joya/ cupido de diamantes

Em No As As

As Np No Em, Np All

lienzo rosario bolsillo silla/coche carta/papel

The Elvira, or… Adventures

An Evening’s..

Tarugo’s Wiles

Sir Courtly Nice

Ø

---

---

---

---

table ---

--Ø

-----

-----

-----

-----

-----

------chair letter, tablets

----purse coach paper, ticket, setter

Ø --jewel/ --diamond, table diamond Ø ----Ø ------Ø letter, note paper, letter

-----

--Ø --coach letter

Em = Los empeños de seis horas; As = El astrólogo fingido; No = No siempre lo peor es cierto; Np = No puede ser el guardar una mujer. Autonomous creations

--- Non-existent in the source text

Ø Omissions

The reasons why the translators opted for one or other mechanism are varied and not always easy to define. The translations of No siempre…, for example, omit the reference to traje de camino because in the target text there is abundant information about the location of the characters, and the same can be said of other similar references, such as traje de noche or traje de criado. In other cases deletion is due to the suppression of the original scene (as occurs with the papahígo23 of Otáñez in El astrólogo..., and with the chain the maid receives in the same play, or to the fact that the item was unfamiliar on the English stage and in English society of the time (chapín), while for many other examples there is no rational explanation. The same can be said of the autonomous creations, which are forced in some cases by the presence of new characters and scenes (nightcap, periwig), or in others in an attempt to give more significance to certain scenes (thus, in Elvira, or…, which 23. Papahígo: Cierto pedazo del paño o tela de que está hecha la montera, que tirándole hacia abajo cubre toda la cara y pescuezo, menos los ojos, del cual usan los que van de camino para ir defendidos del aire y el frío (Diccionario de Autoridades).

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

gives greater importance to the protagonist’s dress, a gorget and an apron are introduced), while on other occasions the aim is to give the work an air of “Spanishness” (cloak, hat) or “Englishness” (vizor, or the so-called petticoat for men, that is, wide, fancy trousers that were very popular in France and England between 1650 and 1680); and also, of course, at the express desire of the translator. As for the lexical items referring to dwellings (Table 21), the predominance of substitution is absolute, with many cases of deletion. For example, Spanish comedias make a difference between cuadra, as a hall or spacious room, and cuarto (bedroom, chamber), along with other less frequently used terms which are never translated too exactly, so that lodging(s), chamber, closet, etc. are employed in the target texts without distinction. A striking case is the omission of the typical Spanish reja, at which ladies and beaux would often court; the only exception in this respect is The Adventures…, which uses a balcony for the same purpose. Tuke neutralises the functions of the reja and then transfers them to a space that did exist in English theatres. Many of these omissions are made up for with mentions of other parts of the house that are not found in the original texts. Thus, cellars and garrets (The Adventures…, p. 180); a pavilion (The Adventures…, p. 73); a toilet (Elvira, or…, pp. 455 y 467), a porch (Elvira, or…, p. 456); a perfuming-room (Elvira, or…, p. 464); a portal (Elvira, or…, p. 467); a garden-house (An Evening’s…, p. 369); a hall (Tarugo’s Wiles, p. 42), etc. abound. The third area chosen, that is, the accessories necessary for the conduct of the action, includes the most varied terms, which range from a stool in a room to the gifts exchanged between lovers. As in the two previous cases, conservation mechanisms are not put into practice, and deletion is the strategy of preference, except in one or two naturalisations (papel → letter, ticket) and a limited use of synonymy in Elvira, or…. Here too, the presence of autonomous creations facilitates the action of the target texts, especially in the English original scenes; there is thus a couch (The Adventures…, p.  91; Elvira, or…, p.  475); a spring-lock (The Adventures…, p. 129); a staff (Elvira, or…, p. 463); a stiletto (Elvira, or…, p. 473); a broom (Elvira, or…, p. 476); a looking-glass (Sir Courtly…, p. 31); glasses (Sir Courtly…, p. 49); cups (The Adventures…, p. 58); a squirt (Sir Courtly…, p. 36); a bell (An Evening’s…, p. 334); a dice (An Evening’s…, p. 337), etc. As we explained at the beginning of this classification, we also have to deal with other semantic fields which, while they are not so frequent — and for this reason have not been included in the tables — are still present in the Spanish texts. One refers to other locations alluded to in the dialogue: postas and casa de las postas (Los empeños..., pp. 109, 111 and 114; No siempre…, pp. 105 and 106), casa de juego (El astrólogo..., p.  297), conventos (No siempre…, pp.  79 and 80; No puede ser…, p.  254), etc., while another corresponds to gastronomy: berzas, chocolate, empanada de figón, agua de limón, cerveza, patatas, espárragos (all in No puede



Chapter 5.  Culture 

ser…, pp. 197–206). We could also mention terms referring to different kinds of coins: maravedís (Los empeños…, p. 125), reales (Los empeños…, p. 132), ducados (No puede ser…, pp. 187 and 198); escudos (No puede ser…, pp. 194, 206 and 207); libras (No puede ser…, p. 198). Diverse strategies are employed for the translation of these terms, and they also vary with the translator and the area in question. Thus for the locations we find examples of naturalisation (convento → cloister; misa → church, little chapel) and of deletion (posta). For food and drink, omission is the strategy followed in all cases, with the exception of agua de limón (No puede ser…), which Sydserf naturalizes as lemonade. The remaining allusions are new creations: claret, coffee, tea (Tarugo’s Wiles); mead, cyder, ale, wine, salt (Sir Courtly Nice). A striking example is contributed by Wildblood in An Evening’s…, as the character openly criticises Spanish food after accepting an invitation to a banquet: Ay, it look’d like Variety, till we came to taste it; there were twenty several Dishes to the Eye, but in the Palate nothing but Spices. I had a mind to eat of a Pheasant, and as soon as I got it into my Mouth, I found I was chewing a Limb of Cinnamon: then I went to cut a piece of Kid, and no sooner it had touch’d muy lips, but it turn’d to red Pepper. At last I began to think myself another kind of Midas, that every thing I touch’d should be turn’d to Spice. [An Evening’s Love, Act I, p. 296]

As for the coins, we are again faced with cases of deletion, (maravedís, reales), new creations (farthings) or naturalisations (ducados → duckets; escudos → pistols). Finally, mention must be made of a whole series of cultural lexical elements that belong to two main areas: inappropriate linguistic terms (according to the dictates of the Spanish comedy genre) and the use of Spanish words incorporated into the dialogue. In the first of these there is a notable contrast between the vocabulary of the Spanish characters when they insult or rail at others, usually of lower rank, and that used by the English who, whether ladies, beaux or servants, are anything but sparing in their insults irrespective of the rank of the person verbally abused: varlet (The Adventures…, pp. 69 and 108; Elvira, or…, p. 465); rascal (The Adventures…, pp.  99 y 104), buffoon (The Adventures…, p.  100); fool (The Adventures…, p. 129), garret (Tarugo’s Wiles, p. 41); puppy (here with the sense of empty-headed, in Elvira, or…, p. 454); coxcomb (Elvira, or…, pp. 457 and 472; Sir Courtly…, pp. 16 and 21); owl’s-face (Elvira, or…, p. 461); sauce-box (Elvira, or…, p. 465); whore (Sir Courtly…, pp. 35 and 84); rogue (Sir Courtly…, p. 68); tomfool (Sir Courtly…, p.  36); wretch (Sir Courtly…, p 51); rump (Sir Courtly…, p.  55); bawd (Sir Courtly…, p.  85); villain (Sir Courtly…, p.  85); dog (An Evening’s…, p. 369). On occasions, these adjectives are not used by themselves, but in a stream of invective, which accentuates the intention. So, Sir Courtly refers to Surly as “a

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

nauseous, beastly Sloven, Clown, Fool, Scot” (Sir Courtly Nice, p. 45) and as “Beast, Clown, Fool, Rascal” (ibid.: 77); Francisca lets fly at Chichón, calling him “Blab, pick-thank, peaching-varlet” (Elvira, or…, p. 454). Occasionally, Spanish words appear scattered through the English comedies conferring an exotic tone on the dialogue and reminding the audience of where the action is taking place. In Elvira, or… we find “siesta” and “albricias”, the latter being also in The Adventures… (p. 123);24 Sydserf has “salsa-parilla” (p. 28) and “friscoe” (fresco, p. 36). It is, however, Dryden who inserts most Spanish words in his translation: “alguazile” (p. 41), “juego de cannas” (p. 229), “inamorado” (p. 305, although in this case it might well be Italian, from the innamorati of the Commedia dell’ arte), “passacalles” (p. 310), “borracho” (p. 324), “ingles” (p. 331), “sennor” (p. 332), “maravedis” (p. 340), “mulatto” (p. 343), “albricias” (p. 356), “malefactor” (p. 375), etc. Some are spelt differently from Spanish, probably because Dryden was thinking more of their pronunciation on the English stage (“nn” for the Spanish “ñ”), while in others a consonant is doubled for no apparent reason (“passa”, “mulatto”). In any case, these terms — not found in El astrólogo... — are a clear indicator of the location where the action takes place, in this case Madrid. Even if their meaning was not completely understood by the audience, the desired effect was achieved by their phonetic imprint, which is clearly Spanish. 5.2.2 Other cultural references Deletions, new creations and naturalisations are again the principal mechanisms employed by the translators when faced with expressions intimately linked to the source culture, such as forms of address, decorum in language, religious invocations, popular sayings and the exempla used by the drolls to illustrate their arguments, among others. As for the forms of address, the Spanish characters use the Christian name (which may be preceded by “don” and “doña”), or “señor” and “señora” when persons of low rank are addressing ladies, beaux and older people. The English texts offer “Sir” (or its variant “Sirrah”, especially in Sir Courtly Nice) as the courteous form between gentlemen, or used by servants to address men of higher station, while “Madam” is used between ladies or when others address them. Occasionally, variants are found: it is not unusual for nobles to introduce themselves or take their leave with “Your most humble Servant”, “Your humble oblig’d Servant” (Sir Courtly Nice) or with more affectionate expressions such as “dearest” (“My dearest 24. Curiously, the only case in which the word “albricias” appears in the original text is not maintained in the target text in its Spanish form, but is given in English as “welcome news” (The Adventures..., p. 57).



Chapter 5.  Culture 

Porcia”, in The Adventures…). Wildblood and Bellamy (An Evening’s…), for example, call each other, familiarly, Frank and Jack, respectively, and there is also, sporadically, an exotic note such as “Signor Diego” (The Adventures…, p. 119). Maids are sometimes addressed as “mistress” or “damsel” by their señores, while derogatory epithets on occasions accompany or replace the Christian names of male servants when their masters reproach them their bad behaviour (“Mr Rascal”, in An Evening’s…, p. 371). It is the drolls who receive most verbal attacks, given their repeated shows of cowardice or idleness. However, the language used for this is always more restrained in the Spanish texts, as can be seen in the following example: OCT: Pues ve presto, trae un coche. OCT: Run, rascal, and fetch a chair immediately. [...] [...] OCT: Que en todo imposible veas, OCT: A curse upon these Rogues! quédate, maldito seas, [The Adventures..., Act I, pp. 99–100] que yo mismo lo traeré por no oirte. [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 105]

Octavio, annoyed, addresses Quatrín with a “maldito seas”, which contrasts with the adjectives used by his English counterpart. There is another illustrative example in No puede ser… and its translations, though in this case the droll is not the object of the aggression, rather it is he who berates a servant: TAR: ¡Jesús, Jesús, qué traición! ¡Aquí mujeres tapadas!

TAR: O Rascals! Traitors! Villains! Have you convey’d women to my chamber…? [No puede ser…, III, [Tarugo’s…, V, p. 50] p. 206]

CRA: Barbarity! Falsehood! Treachery! Murder. [Sir Courtly…, V, p. 97]

The type of pejorative sentence observed in Sydserf (Tarugo’s…) is quite frequent in the translations in these contexts or in others of similar nature. For example, in Los empeños... there is only one example of an insulting word: “villana”, directed by Don Enrique at his maid; in the English translation, the beaux react to the droll with epithets such as those listed above, and with other similar phrases: “Cowardly slave” (p. 98), “Cursed villain” (p. 98), “Rascal, leave your fooling” (p. 104). We find them in other texts too, together with: “Senseless ass” (Sir Courtly Nice, p. 72); “Son of whore” (Sir Courtly Nice, p. 33); “Pox you, damn you” (Sir Courtly Nice, p. 38); “A fart for your family” (Sir Courtly Nice, p 86); “Son of an English Sequestrator” (Tarugo’s Wiles, p. 51), “Thou art an ass” (Elvira, or…, p. 451); “Curse on thee” (Elvira, or…, p. 465); “A pox on you” (An Evening’s…, p. 321). This last

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

exclamation, oddly enough, is said by a servant to his master, when in the Spanish text there is a mild reproach from the master to the servant: “Dejad las burlas”. Curiously, too, the worst language occurs in the scenes of the target text invented by the translators as in the third act of Tarugo’s Wiles, or in many situations in Sir Courtly Nice. In this latter work there are expressions in bad taste that it would be impossible to find in Siglo de Oro comedy: “I’ll tell him he’s the son of a whore, and his grandfather rose by pimping” (Surly, p. 33); “I am going to punish one who violates my father’s, my will, and calls my mother whore” (Bellguard, p. 51); “You bewitching whores” (Crack, p. 84). And yet, despite the fact that the language of the translated texts is more daring, it is still more restrained than that of other English theatrical works of the time, in which double entendre and smutty comments abounded. Thus, although Crowne’s play is the most “English” in this respect, the influence of the more decorous language of the source text is still notable. This difference of tone between Spanish and English dramatic language did not go unnoticed by Horatio in Tarugo’s Wiles: he was in no doubt that the theatrical company of Sophronia, who was Spanish (Doña Ana in the original) would soften the manners of the English Tarugo: HORATIO: […] She being my kinswoman you shall go along, where I doubt not but after a little time spent in her company, you’ll soon recover the gravity of our Spanish conversation, which I perceive you have altogether cast off for the English way of freedom. [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act I, p. 2]

The vicissitudes suffered by characters in Spanish comedy often lead them to invoke God, and Heaven, in the search for solutions to their problems, usually in exclamations that very often contain the word Dios. As we have commented earlier, this is hardly ever translated as “God” in the target texts (perhaps because the censors, or the writers themselves, did not consider it appropriate in dramatic language, or simply because its use in everyday speech was not as widespread then as it is today).25 Instead, through a process of naturalisation, it is transformed into expressions of another type that replace the original, or compensate for it elsewhere, when they do not assume the status of autonomous creations. In the source texts the most common expression of this type is Vive Dios, followed by others such as Por Dios, Dios te guarde, Pluguiera/plegue a Dios, Válgame Dios, Ay Dios, Quiera Dios and Vive Dios. In some cases, Dios is replaced by Cristo or cielo: Válgame el cielo, Plugiera al mismo cielo, Cielo santo, El cielo os guarde, etc. In the English texts most of these expressions include the word “Heaven(s)”: “O Heav25. It is in some cases translated as gods in Elvira: “From the gods”, “The gods”, “Ye gods”, etc. In An Evening’s Love, we find the expressions “By Alha” and “By Mahomet” (p. 336), which are uttered by Jacintha when she passes herself off as a Moslem.



Chapter 5.  Culture 

ens” (the most frequent), “Thanks be to Heaven”, “By Heaven(s)”, “Pray Heavens”, “Bless me Heavens”, “I thank Heaven”, “For the love of Heaven”..., and less frequently others such as “Ye Powers/Spirits above” (The Adventures…), “Of the high Powers above” (Elvira, or…), etc.26 Sayings and proverbs are also intimately related with the idiosyncrasy of a people, and often contain a moral or practical wisdom. These expressions, generally the result of a deep-rooted oral tradition, were often woven into the dialogue of Siglo de Oro theatre; the best example of this is in the dozens of comedies of Lope, Tirso, Calderón and many other writers of the period, where the title reproduces, partially or in total, a popular saying that is then quoted on various occasions throughout the play.27 This is the case with two of our Spanish plays, No siempre lo peor es cierto and No puede ser el guardar una mujer, both of which are titles that provide the essence of the plot and help us understand the mechanism of the action, while explaining why their translators opted to retain them and reproduce them in the target texts. This is not, however, the tactic usually applied by the English playwrights; on the contrary, they preferred to omit these references and include new ones that did not even seek to compensate for them, introducing situations and contexts that were completely different to the Spanish ones and in which they then inserted the saying. In Los empeños..., for example, there is no proverbial phrase, although Tuke inserted two in his translation: “I have touched a Nettle and stung myself ”, exclaims Camilla (p. 65), while Antonio, laments the scant worth accorded the feats of some soldiers: “Fame, like Water, bears up the lighter things, and lets the weighty sink” (p. 71). Both expressions are uttered by high-ranking characters — this being unusual as it is more frequently the servants, and specifically the drolls, whose job it is to quote them. This is the case in Elvira, or…, where Chichon humorously illustrates different situations by autonomous creations: “An open door may lead to a face of wood” (p. 454), “The coast is clear” (p. 454, present also in An Evening’s…, p. 312), “Her looks are all milk and honey” (p. 475), or the very English “All puddings have two handles, and most short sayings two handles to their meaning” (p.  463). Ladies and beaux also make use of set phrases in their conversations: “Were not we born with cauls upon our heads?”, muses Don Zancho to celebrate his good luck (p. 472), and Don Julio does likewise in his reflections on how to keep a secret, the only case in which we find a correlate in the Spanish text:

26. Autonomous creations also proliferate in interjections: “Fye, fye!”, “Fy, fy”, “Foh!”, “There, there!”, “Oons!”, “Umph”, etc. 27. Among many examples we may cite El perro del hortelano, Casa de dos puertas mala es de guardar, Hombre pobre todo es trazas, Guárdate del agua mansa, etc.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

JUAN: Que nadie sepa este grave JUL: ... is so important, it necessitated empeño, porque en efecto, my saying what I did, since secrets are ninguno guarda un secreto ever kept best by those that know them least. mejor que el que no lo sabe. [Elvira, or…, Act III, p. 460] [No siempre…, Jornada II, p. 117]

The following saying invented by Ginés is, however, omitted: “Como nos veamos después,/ yo haré verdad el refrán / de ‘Un poco te quiero Inés’” (p. 97), whereas in the two translations of No siempre… two sayings are avoided: “Al ruin puerco le dan siempre la mejor bellota” (p. 187); “En la barba del ruin...” (p. 193). Finally, An Evening’s Love includes some sayings that Dryden decided to incorporate on his own initiative, such as “to swear like a Turk” (p. 336) or “to have more irons in the fire” (p. 343). It is also part and parcel of the comedy genre to interweave in the dialogue stories typical of the place and characters which are given to the droll and exemplify his point of view on a certain situation. However, these exempla did not interest the translators, and in all cases they omitted them: Digby leaves out the two stories in which the lame Chichon attempts to avoid having to carry out his master’s errands (pp. 126–128), or the two with which Morón regales us in El astrólogo… (pp. 231 and 243). In the translation of this last piece, though, Jacintha makes use of one of Æsop’s fables on one occasion. Nor do Sydserf and Crowne try to reproduce the mad stories of Tarugo in No siempre… (pp. 191 and 194); arguably, these might have influenced Crowne in the disparaging comments made by Surly on the maternal figure (p. 34) or the customs attributed to the Indians by the disguised Crack, but both examples are far from the originals in tone and intent. Finally, there are many other cultural allusions present in the source texts which disappear in the translations: the history of Spain and its kings, popular astrology, Biblical and mythological references, etc. However, for practical reasons we shall reproduce only a few representative examples here. One has to do with Spanish celebrations and traditions: gambling houses (El astrólogo..., p. 247), the game “las pintas” (No puede ser…, p.  188), the Day of Sotillo (No puede ser…, p. 192), bullfighters (No puede ser…, p. 199), etc. There are also quite a few references to the Greek and Latin classics and to contemporary Spanish literature: No siempre… includes a reference to a jealous extremeño and a fleece (pp. 188 and 201, respectively), in clear reference to Lope’s El celoso extremeño and El vellocino de oro; in El astrólogo... “un lindo don Diego” is mentioned (p.  259), recalling the work of the same name written by Moreto and published six years after the appearance of No puede ser…. Although in Spanish Golden Age theatre no Jewish characters appear, anti-Semitic allusions are frequent, usually in the form of jokes given to the drolls. In the works under study there are two: one in El astrólogo... and the other in No puede ser…:



Chapter 5.  Culture 

MORÓN: Porque en las tierras de Aspa hace temerario frío; aunque vos en esta vida más veces habéis temido Aspa, y fuego, que Aspa, y nieve. ESCUD: Mentís, que no soy judío. [El astrólogo..., Jornada III, p. 260]

TAR: ¿La mora? DOÑA INÉS: Sí. TAR: Pues la perra. ¿Quién la mete con los pasos? Que eso toca a los judíos, no a los moros. [No siempre…, Jornada III, p. 202]

It would appear that these cultural allusions were an obstacle for the translators, as they omitted them in all cases. We only find the occasional isolated parallel: the allusion in El astrólogo... to gambling houses and play-yards as ideal places for rumour-mongering is maintained in English; the same is true of some references to religious rituals, such as fasting in Lent (No puede ser…, p. 192), present in both translations and in An Evening’s Love (p. 360). The Spanish texts also speak of Galicians, Catalans and Andalusians, while the English speak of Scots, Dutchmen and Belgians. These examples are, however, an exception, as the translators usually forget the original cultural references and create new ones allusive to their own culture or to Spain. The first group, alluding to the target culture is, of course, the largest, and includes references to English history, the military world, cities, coronations and monarchs, The East India Company and many others. The third act of Tarugo’s Wiles, set in a bar with an English clientele, is especially interesting as it becomes the ideal backdrop for many aspects of English life, with debates on religion, philosophy, painting, medicine, etc. The particular attraction of the second group lies in the translators’ comments on Spanish culture: sometimes these are neutral, as when Ursulines and Capuchins are mentioned (Elvira, or…), as well as history and kings (Tarugo’s Wiles), etc; while in others the tone is openly critical, as when Dryden, in An Evening’s Love, makes fun of the climate: “In this hot country, ‘tis as in the Creation, the Evening and the Morning make the Day”, p. 297, the way Spanish men court their ladies, and even the Catholic religion, as shown in this fragment from Wildblood: WILDBLOOD: I beseech you, madam, trouble not yourself for my religion; for though I am Heretick to the Men of your Country, to your Ladies I am a very zealous Catholick: And for Fornication and Adultery, I assure you I hold with both Churches. [An Evening’s Love, Act I, p. 303]

This would be unthinkable in Calderón, as would Wildblood’s later mockery of Spaniards’ daily prayer: “I pray’d but on Tuesday last, and my time comes not till Tuesday next” (p.  305). Dryden uses these devices to praise the customs of the English (and so win the sympathy of his London audiences) comparing them with what he portrays as a people that likes spicy food, keeps its women locked up be-

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

hind bars “with double locks and grated windows” (p. 302), and treats courting as a kind of “horse-play” (p. 305). In the light of all the above we may conclude that substitution strategies are preferred for the translation of cultural references present in the source text. Naturalisation is not often used for culture-specific items, and deletions and new creations predominate. Deletion can be justified by the difficulty of translating the cultural content inherent in certain elements of the source texts or by the omission of the original scene in which they appeared. In other cases, however, there is no apparent justification; new creations arise both from the incorporation of new characters and situations, and due to the demands of the recipient culture, especially evident in the use of inappropriate language or of Spanish words not in the originals. Naturalisation is, however, somewhat more frequent in the translation of cultural elements such as forms of address and religious invocations, although there are sayings, insults, and a plethora of historical, literary and folkloric references that do not fit in with the target text and are on occasions compensated for by new creations.

chapter 6

The translation of the typical comedia motifs So far, we have seen how translators in Restoration England sometimes resorted to exotization in order to make clear the Spanish origin of the text, which is perceived in multiple aspects: action and plot are those present in Spanish cape-and-sword drama, as well as the characters, who usually have Spanish names, wear capes and veils and live in Valencia or Seville, while adopting the typical gestures of the Spanish comedia. In the following lines we will concentrate on how the typical motifs of Golden Age drama are dealt with, that is, to what extent love and honour rule their lives. Focus will also be given to humour (both situational and textual) in order to see whether the final product is given an evident Mediterranean flavor or rather the humorous side of the target play is reinforced by the addition of new jokes, neologisms, tales and characters. 6.1 Humour [Humour is] a singular and unavoidable manner of doing or saying anything, peculiar and natural to one man only, by which his speech and actions are distinguished from those of other men. (William Congreve, Concerning Humour in Comedy, 1695)

William Congreve (1670–1729) gave this definition in a letter to John Dennis, who had asked him his opinion on humour in literature. Almost a quarter of a century earlier, Dryden, in the prologue to An Evening’s Love, or the Mock Astrologer, reflected on humour in the theatre and expressed perplexity that audiences laughed at and applauded situations in which he could find no humour, while other, wittier moments went unnoticed. For Dryden, “comedy consists, though of low persons, yet of natural actions and characters; I mean, such humours, adventures and designs as are to be found and met with in the world”. He thus distinguished comedy from farce, which he defined as “forced humours and unnatural events”. Dryden defends the nobility of comedy, especially when it derives from

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

wit, and maintains that its prime mission is to entertain, relegating moral improvement to a secondary role1. There is little that so clearly identifies the culture of different peoples as their humour, and this gives a special interest to the way translators tackle comicity, and the strategies they employ to translate humorous aspects of the source language, whether situational or linguistic, to provoke a similar reaction in a different language, culture and audience. Moreover, there are singularities in the translation of humour in drama that are not present in other genres, as all the semiotic elements of the work may be used in its creation (Mateo 1995b: 17). I shall proceed to highlight the mechanisms used by the translators of Golden Age drama when transposing humorous passages, and the factors that intervene in the process. Elder Olson (1978), in his analysis of Spanish comedy, distinguishes six areas to which comic devices may correspond: Plot: situational comedy; Character: comedy of types; Thought: comedy of concepts; Diction: comedy of words; Music and show: scenic devices. We shall not stick rigidly to Olson’s classification, although we shall concentrate initially on the analysis of situational comedy in the original comedias and translations, and then deal in more detail with those comic aspects that are of most interest from the point of view of translation: those that have their roots in the stage and those that derive from words (jokes, witticisms, plays on words). The character as a humoristic element in itself will be dealt with when we analyse the comicity of the ridiculous figures; we shall not, however, go so deeply into the translation of the comic nature of concepts, although some examples are mentioned in the sections on the translation of love and honour (sections 6.2. and 6.3., respectively). Starting, then, with the treatment of the situation, from the humorous point of view the English translations closely follow the original storyline and the circumstances designed to make the spectator laugh. In the case of Los empeños..., these situations are reproduced practically identically in The Adventures… (apart from the scene already mentioned openly criticising the Dutch, and which is a creation of Tuke’s). In both cases, the female protagonists lament their misfortune and compete to show which is suffering most: NISE: Si acaso mi pena oyeras, CAM: Let’s tell our Stories, con la tuya te volvieras, then we soon shall see por no padecer la mía. which of us two excels in misery. [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 106] [The Adventures…, Act I, p. 51] 1. When they dealt with comedy, the Spanish dramatic theorists of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, too, faced the problem of how to define humour and how to classify the devices that provoke laughter in the audience.



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

The ladies exchange cloaks, giving rise to a mistaken identity that will not be clarified until the end; the servants also carry on their own love affairs, in imitation of their masters; and the droll is such a coward that, faced with the prospect of a fight, he flees and seeks protection up a tree. Darkness is used for the fights over questions of honour to increase confusion and allow some of the characters to escape their fate. The case of No siempre… and Elvira, or… is very similar: Don Diego/Don Zancho is chased out of Madrid, making him the object of his servant’s mockery and of the anger of his Valencian sweetheart (Beatriz/Blanca). The droll betrays Don Zancho, detailing in a note to Blanca his master’s amorous doings at Court, and the maid acts as a go-between for her own advantage. The anger of Beatriz/ Blanca at this treachery contrasts with the exaggerated bitterness of Leonor/Elvira. His rapid flights before the arrival of his master (leap from the balcony included) and the trick of turning out the lights to create chaos and so facilitate the escape of the more cowardly are also repeated. There are many situations in El astrólogo... designed to provoke laughter: the conversations between the gracioso and the maid Beatriz are full of irony. Unable to keep a secret, she tells Ginés that her mistress is covertly seeing a man, and the story, spread by word of mouth, gets more and more exaggerated until the final version has hardly anything to do with reality. Furthermore, the droll Morón spreads the rumour that his master is an astrologer: how the news is made public and the way in which the different characters approach the false magician in search of solutions provoke hilarity, as do the stratagems he employs to avoid meeting them. The suffering of Diego in his love for Violante, the confusion that arises after she mistakes Don Juan for a ghost, and the scene in which Otáñez, seated on a bench, believes he is in fact flying on horseback, are three of the most comical moments in the play. Dryden, for his part, retains some of these situations, though he omits the exaggeration of the rumour, slightly increases the content of the visits to the astrologer and does away with the adventure of Otáñez. Furthermore, he includes two English characters to criticise Spanish customs and to express his own opinions on marriage, women and Spanish honour. Setting the action on a Carnival Tuesday, he puts many of his characters in disguise, provokes a fight between Spanish and English, and strings together a series of comic confusions, such as the courting of Jacintha who, thanks to her disguise, invents other characters for herself. Finally, situations in the gaming house and references to the history of Spain and its relations with England are added, whereas the last scene of the original play (the “flight” of Otáñez) is replaced by another in the house of Don Alonzo in which he is the person made a fool of (and Theodosia, Jacintha, Aurelia, Beatrix, Camilla, Lope and Wildblood pretend they are spirits due to the arts of Bellamy). Humorous situations also abound in No puede ser…: on the one hand the reflections and literary compositions in the academy presided over by Doña Ana; on

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

the other the variety of situations that drive the plot, such as the obstinacy of Don Pedro, who proposes a bet to determine whether or not it is possible to keep a woman safe. In this respect mention must also be paid to the stratagems of Tarugo to gain access to his house, first in the guise of a tailor (which he uses to give Doña Inés a portrait of her suitor), then as an indiano who suffers a strange affliction of the heart on seeing the beauty of ladies unveiled. Tarugo manages to get Don Félix into the house to court Doña Inés, to the incredulity of the servant-guards, and then enables all to escape taking advantage of one of Don Pedro’s exits. Tarugo’s coarse manners are not at all what would be expected from a well-bred indiano, and his lack of style in his adopted role is another source of laughter. Sydserf omits the scene of the academy but respects the rest, adding some contributions of his own: the real tailor and two sergeants to detain Tarugo for not paying off a debt, which leads the droll to seek refuge in a coffee house and pass himself off as a waiter. This coffee house is where the third act begins; it is run by a man who aims to make it a miniature Athens School, where clients of the most varied station will debate all kinds of subjects: politics, religion, medicine and science, even geography, and all with a touch of humour. Outstanding moments are Hurtante’s tour of the tables in search of Tarugo, the entry of a woman furious beacuse her baker husband is neglecting his work, and the final fight, which makes all the characters leave the stage. In the fourth act, Sydserf returns to the original plot: in the guise of an indiano, the droll wins the master’s trust and confesses that the presence of rich and beautiful young ladies throws him into convulsions. In this way he facilitates the access of Don Horatio (the original Don Félix) to the house, and feigns an attack of his strange affliction to prepare his protégé’s escape. The trick of hiding the lady and her maid in his room, covered up, so that he can get them out of the house in the master’s absence, is identical in the original comedy and in the translation; the English servants, too, do not dare to raise the veils given the risk to Tarugo’s life if he is confronted with the face of a beautiful woman. Crowne, also, respects most of the humorous scenes (with the exception of the goings-on at the academy), although with slight modifications: the bet in the original is replaced by a long-standing family feud, and the feigned intention of the indiano is to marry his own sister to Farewel. The exaggerated manner in which he assumes his role is also different in the English version: there is more emphasis on the coarse and eccentric behaviour of the Spanish droll, inappropriate in a man of his rank and which his host, don Pedro, accepts with resignation; Crack prefers to speak of the marvels of the Indies (where, he claims, he has seen melons the size of a garden) or of his feats in those lands (his slaughtering of lions and tigers, for example). Crowne also takes the liberty of including humorous scenes that have no equivalent in the original. An example is the ridiculous verbal duel between Hothead and Testimony (which goes on, intermittently, throughout the work);



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

their arguments about religion, Aristotle and Seneca (Act I) to some extent make up for the absence of the literary debates in the first jornada of No puede ser…. There are other comic situations invented by Crowne: Aunt appears in her house clothes and refers to how few suitors she has had (Act I); Violante proposes to Surly a plan to hinder the approaching engagement of Leonora and Sir Courtly; Surly bursts into Sir Courtly’s room while he is preparing himself for his tryst with Leonora, and invites him to dine at the King’s Box to forestall the meeting; Surly, furthermore, proffers insults and threats against anyone who is in love with Leonora as, he affirms, he too is in love with her, news which Sir Courtly meets with indifference (Act III); Sir Courtly arrives at the lady’s house and, after confronting Surly (Act IV), engages Leonora in witty conversation while Aunt, to the audience’s surprise, makes it plain that she believes it is she that Sir Courtly loves, and not Leonora (Act V). We may conclude, therefore, that the translators follow more or less faithfully the situations in the original plays that are the source of comedy. Tuke and Digby adapt them most closely and incorporate hardly any new elements. Sydserf, Dryden and Crowne, while respecting much of the comic content of the originals, make changes or incorporate new scenes to further amuse the spectator. 6.1.1 Stage comicicity One of the first obstacles we face when attempting to analyse stage comicity is the paucity of information to be extracted from the Spanish texts; as we have already remarked, these contain very few notes. Indeed, in certain aspects, such as intonation, speech rhythm etc., there is virtually no information at all, and the punctuation of the texts is not sufficient for us to draw precise conclusions. In this analysis we shall follow the scheme proposed by Arellano (1999: 267 and following.) This was directed at the study of Calderón, but its flexibility makes it perfectly well suited to other authors such as Coello and Moreto. Arellano organises the signalling systems of staging into eleven subdivisions: (1) paralinguistic elements; (2) gesture; (3) proxemics; (4) stage space and scenography; (5) the wardrobe; (6) makeup and hairdos; (7) ridiculous characters; (8) accessory objects; (9) music and songs; (10) lighting; and (11) humorous rupture of the illusion on stage. We shall proceed to study each of these points, paying special attention to how the translators deal with stage comicity and how they express it in the target texts.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

6.1.1.1 Paralinguistic and stylistic elements2 Factors such as intonation, voice modulation, shouts, weeping, interruptions, etc… all nuance speech, sometimes for comic effect. Among the elements closest to purely verbal comicity, the Spanish plays provide examples of parodies of Latin and other languages, highfalutin language revealing the pedantry of certain characters, or the use of phonetic devices for humorous effect. It is Moreto who most often uses Latin words, and it is the droll, of course, who speaks them. Thus Tarugo, in a conversation with Don Félix and Doña Ana Pacheco tries to impress his audience with latinisms:

TARUGO: DOÑA ANA: TARUGO: DOÑA ANA: […] TARUGO: DON FÉLIX: TARUGO:

Adsum. Traza tiene de discreto. Hacia el agilibus, mucho. ¿De dónde sois? ¿No hay pecunia? Cuanto quisieres. Laus Deo.

[No puede ser…, Jornada I, p. 191]

Coming from the droll, these words are obviously laughable. In the third jornada, Tarugo blames the servant Sancho for having allowed an intruder into the house, an accusation from which he defends himself thus: “Verbum carol, Señor, tal hombre no he visto” (Jornada III, p. 202). Sydserf, translating No puede ser…, omits these words, although in the third act he does have Tarugo use latinisms to impress a group of university students: “Prohac ratione dabo vobis, Coffeeum Sublimatum” (Act III, p. 19), in a totally absurd comment to which the students respond with irony, praising him for his status as a scholar. Crowne acts similarly, and include a single Latin phrase, with a clearly humorous component, albeit in a context quite different from that of Latin expressions in the Spanish text: in a conversation between Leonora and Hothead, this latter has no hesitation in affirming, with reference to the master of the house, that “to cudgel a Lord is no Scandalum Magnatum” (Sir Courtly…, Act I, p. 19). Although the intention seems the same as that of the original text, the vocabulary and syntax are totally different. Crowne often turns to another language, French, especially when he wants to make it clear how affected the language of Sir Courtly is, as when he exclaims on seeing Surly burst into his room: “You and I have been long piquee, and I’m amaz’d to see you at my Levee” (Acto III, p. 46). The employment of rhyme adds still further to the humorous effect. 2. I have thought it appropriate to broaden the title of this section to include other aspects, such as certain features of the register or idiolect of the characters. Although included in this section, they cannot strictly be classified as paralinguistic.



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

No siempre… and its translation, Elvira, or… constitute a curious case. In the Spanish work there is just one Latin expression, that which closes the play, and which is, once again, spoken by the droll: GINÉS:

¿Están hechas ya estas paces? Pues, Inés, boda me fecit, para que con esto nadie desconfíe de su dama.

[No siempre…, Jornada III, p. 177]

There is no Latin in the translation, although Digby, like Crowne, uses French expressions twice, giving them to the gracioso with evidently comic intent: the first takes place between Chichon and the maid who is to arrange a meeting for their master and mistress: CHICHON: She fail us! No centinel perdu is half so alert as she, in these occasions.

[Elvira, or…, Act IV, p. 465]

The second is provoked by Chichon’s complaint about his master when he orders him to deliver a letter to his loved one. Angrily, the droll compares Spanish gentlemen with French, coming down on the side of the second: CHICHON:

How honourable ‘tis to serve a Don! What petit Basque on t’ other side of the mountains durst have aspir’d to the high dignity of carrying a cartel? A Monsieur would sooner have put up a twinge by the nose, than sent a challenge by a serving-man. [Elvira, or…, Act V, p. 473]

French terms are also used in An Evening’s Love, and almost always humorously, either because they are curious linguistic creations (Monsieurland) or because they are used by the servant and the maid (adieu, praemunire), strikingly out of place in the vulgar register. At the same time, the use of French words gives a more pompous air to characters of higher rank (Wildblood proposes playing a song “a l’Angloise”; Aurelia attributes to a mere sigh the adjectives charmante and mignonne); a similar effect is achieved by the use of the occasional Latinism: impetus dicendi, incognita, ferae naturae (referring to the female sex), in tenebris, etc. As well as borrowings from other languages, Petrarchist expressions are used by some persons of high rank in the Spanish works, with a pedantic comic effect that the translators hardly ever reproduce. An example is the impact on César of

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

the first sight of his beloved (Los empeños…) — a description replete with imagery that does not appear in the target text: CÉSAR:

Asustada abrió los ojos para que dos soles luzcan, siendo el Alba algunas perlas, que van como que lo anuncia, a dar nuevas a la boca, de que ya la luz madruga.

[Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 112]

On other occasions, however, such speeches are translated, and their exaggeration provokes the audience’s laughter: DIEGO: Quien ZAN: Incomparable maid! Heaven bless those eyes, pregrino y derrotado from which I find a new life springing in me; de la tormenta cruel Having so long been banish’d from their rays. de una ausencia, en que rendido How dark the court appear’d to me without them! el zozobrado bajel Could it have kept me from their influence, de amor, a uno y otro embate, as from their light, I had expir’d long since. sufrió uno y otro vaivén, [Elvira, or…, Act II, p. 453] hasta que tranquilo el mar con el bello rosicler de los amigos celajes, tomo puerto a vuestros pies. [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 96]

Don Diego expresses in this way his love for Beatriz, a feeling that his English counterpart, Don Zancho, communicates in two other metaphors: while Zancho refers to the light of Blanca’s eyes, Diego compares Beatriz with the calm to his storms. It is noteworthy how the rhythm and distribution of the Spanish text blends with the content, something that does not happen in the English description. Far more comical are the words that, in No siempre…, Leonor dedicates to Don Diego when Beatriz (in love with Don Diego) tries to find out if Leonor really loves this gentleman. The reply acquires a tone that is not achieved in English:

LEO: Áspid pisado entre las flores de abril, víbora herida en los campos, rabioso tigre en la selva, cruel sierpe en los peñascos, no es tan fiera para mí como él lo es. BEA: A espacio, a espacio, que aunque lo desprecies quiero,

BLAN: I see your satisfaction in a love, wherein it seems you have been long engag’d. ELV: My satisfaction, say you, in my love? Of whom, for Heaven’s sake? If you mean Don Zancho, Y’ are very far from guessing at my thoughts. […] By all that’s good, I am far from loving him.



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

no que le desprecies tanto. [No siempre…, Jornada III, p. 157]

[Elvira, or…, Act V, p. 473]

The humour present in Leonor’s anger contrasts with the apparent calmness of Elvira. The case of Don Juan in El astrólogo... is similar, and the richness of the language he uses to describe the brevity of the night in the company of his loved one has no equivalent in the translation: D. JUAN: ¡Que tan veloz, Beatriz, sea el tiempo! No me parece, que ha una hora que anocheció; y presumo que envidioso de mi Gloria el Sol hermoso, más temprano descubrió entre nubes de oro, y grana los reflejos, a quien dora sus lágrimas el Aurora. BEAT: ¿Requiebros a la mañana? Vete presto.

[El astrólogo..., Jornada I, p. 234]

Another example occurs in the first jornada of No puede ser…, where the members of the academy recite their poems in the presence of Doña Ana Pacheco. Some of these contributions are an invitation to laughter missing in the English translations, as in both cases the scene is omitted. An example is the octave recited by Don Pedro: D. PEDRO:

En medio extremo el bruto se embola, espeluznada la cerviz valiente; a la frente feroz vuelta la cola, es la cola penacho de la frente; los pies arranca de una estampa sola, de las garras el cuerpo ya pendiente; y centelleando con la vista enojos, se le pasan las garras a los ojos. [No puede ser…, Jornada I, p. 190]

Oddly enough, this poem meets with Doña Ana’s approval; she praises Don Pedro’s gift for poetry and the way in which he “juntó bien naturaleza y concepto”. In the translation, there is a certain parallelism between this scene and a conversation between Sophronia (Ana Pacheco in the original) and her maid Stanlia (the Spanish Manuela):

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

SOPHRO: O most unfortunate wretch I am! My love is great, and yet my sorrow is greater: Oh, oh! — If vertuous Liviana thus be us’d, his wife must needs expect to be abus’d. Oh, oh! STAN: O Sir! Did you not observe how my Poetical Mistress breath’d her last words in Madrigal Rhyme?. [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act I, p. 8]

Stanlia’s humorous comment on her mistress’s casual couplet is a clear allusion to her personality: like her Spanish counterpart, she is a literature aficionada. The translation of sound play is much less frequent, perhaps due to its inherent complexity. In No siempre…, Ginés confirms that what happened to his master has been related “de pe a pa” (p. 99). This expression is omitted in the English version, although in the same scene, the English droll, fearful of a fight, exclaims that his heart goes “pit-a-pat” (p. 153). This remark perhaps helps compensate for the omission of the Spanish sound play. Dryden makes use of this device, employing it with Aurelia, and differentiating her from her Spanish counterpart by giving her, in Maskall’s words, “some affected Phrase that is in fashion” (An Evening’s Love, p. 325). Aurelia, moreover, scolds even the maid for her unrefined pronunciation: CAMILLA: Madam! AURELIA: Madam me no Madam, but learn to retrench your words; and say Mam; as yes Mam, and no Mam, as other Ladies women do. Madam! ‘tis a Year in pronouncing! CAMILLA: Pardon me, Madam. AURELIA: Yet again, Ignorante! Pardon, Madam! Sie, sie, what a Superfluity is there, and how much sweeter the Cadence is, parn me Mam! And for your Ladyship, your Laship –Out upon’t, what a furious Indigence of Ribbands is here upon my Head! [An Evening’s…, Act III, p. 326]

Later in this same act (pp. 333–4), Don Lopez and Don Alonzo hold a conversation in which both must speak together and pause at the same time, the tone rising all the time. Dryden explains in stage notes exactly how he wants this scene spoken: “This next Speech of Lopez, and the next of Alonzo’s, with both their replies, are to be spoken at one time, both raising their Voices by little and little, till they bawl, and come up close to shoulder one another” (p. 333). The moment when Jacintha and Wildblood demonstrate their musical abilities, or lack of them, is also worth noting:

WILD: JAC: WILD: JAC:

Give me the Key, and I’ll set my Voice to’t. Fa la, fa la, fa la. Fala, fala, fala. Is this your best, upon the Faith of a Virgin? Ay, by the Muses, I am at my Pitch. [An Evening’s…, Act V, p. 379]



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

Apart from this use of sound for humorous effect, phonetics may have played a fundamental part in No puede ser… and its translations with the appearance on stage of the indiano. Although there are no indications in this respect, it is to be supposed that he would adopt a different accent, on account of his apparent origin and to conceal his true identity3. In Sir Courtly Nice it is at least made clear that the foreigner has problems with English: CRA.: BELL:

[…] Is there no monster in the West, call’d Westmonsters? Westminster I believe you mean. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act III, p. 61]

There is confirmation of this later in the work, when the false indiano admits that he has been so long out of England that he has almost forgotten his mother tongue (Act IV, p. 78). In the search for humorous effect, the use of Latin and highbrow expressions, or sound plays, is reinforced by paralinguistic features such as intonation. The most frequent is the cry of pain of the gracioso when being beaten by his master, although there are other examples that show the distress of a character in a particular situation, whether lady and gentleman (see he dialogue between Nise and César in Los empeños..., p. 121, the tone of which is lost in the translation), gentleman and gentleman (No siempre…, p. 126, where the translation omits the exclamations), or only between ladies: PO: ¡Ay desdicha más extraña! NIS: ¡Ay más infeliz suceso! PO: Yo a un hombre que no es Octavio NIS: Don César ya de otro dueño. PO: Porcia a Don César rendida. NIS: Don César a Porcia: ¡ha, cielos! PO: Pues primero he de morir. NIS: Pues yo moriré primero. [Los empeños..., Jor. I, p. 109]

PO: Was e’er Disaster like to mine Camilla? CA: Was e’er Misfortune Porcia, like to mine? PO: That I must never see Octavio more CA: That I again must Don Antonio see, Yet never see him mine. PO: I, to be married to the Man I hate. CA And I, to have the Man I love, torn from me PO: I am by Robbing of my friend, undone.

3. For example, Josefina Molina, in her version of No puede ser… (first performed in Madrid in 1987), opted for an affected Tarugo in the role of the tailor, while when he appears as a false indiano the director decides to give him a Mexican accent.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

CA: I, for not hindering of the Theft, am lost. PO: Ye Powers, who these entangled fortunes, give, instruct us how to Die, or how to Live. [The Adventures…, Act I, p. 61]

This is one of the few examples in which an attempt is made to translate the humour deriving from intonation: Porcia and Nise bemoan their misfortune in having men who do not love them, and the humour arises from their vying to show who suffers the most. However, the freshness of the original, its rapid rhythm and the effectiveness of the rhyme are lost in the English version. In other cases the translator exaggerates the source text even further, as in the extreme reaction of the droll when, as an indiano, he recovers the famous portrait in Sir Courtly Nice: PED: Y si yo el retrato os diera PO: ‘twas found by a Friend of mine in ¿qué dijérais? Westminster Abby –there it is TAR: ¿Dónde está? CR: Oh! My Picture!–my Picture! –my Picture! PED: Veisle aquí. BELL: Oh! My eas’d heart! TAR: ¡Hay dicha como esta! CR: Oh! my Picture!–my Picture! –my pretty Dos mil ducados de hallazgo picture! si los tomárais, os diera. [Sir Courtly…, Act III, p. 63] [No puede ser…, Jor. II, p. 198]

Crack’s exaggerated reaction in Crowne’s translation even amuses Violante and Leonora, who open the first scene of the following act laughing out loud. The translator probably overdoes the humorousness of the droll to end the third act in a more surprising and entertaining way. Other humorous devices involve the alternation of question and answer, or modulations of voice, frequently used when servants make fun of their masters. These are not generally respected in translation: examples are the dialogues between Enrique and his servant and between Enrique and Carlos in No siempre… (pp. 120 and 131, respectively), or in the conversation between Flora and Quatrín: FLO: ¿Y tu señor? QUA: ¿No le ves? FLO: Yo llego a hablarle. QUA: Después. FLO: Aparta. [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 114]

FLO: Where’s your Master, Diego? DIE: There is some Ill towards, when this Bird appears [Aside] Do not see him? You’ve lived too long a Maid. FLO: Sir, I have something to say to you in Private [The Adventures…, Act II, p. 77]



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

Although Diego makes a humorous allusion in his aside, the original idea disappears. In this particular translation, however, the actors ask questions to the audience in an attempt to clarify the confused situation in which they find themselves immersed, so creating some complicity with the spectators that is in itself humorous and goes some way to compensating for the omission of devices used in the original play. This is the case with Enrique who, unable to understand Antonio (as he had mistaken his sister for another woman), wonders: “What means the Man?”, and concludes: “Certainly he mocks me” (Act III, p. 95). The liveliness of the following dialogue between the droll and a lady his master is courting, in No puede ser…, is also worth noting, as well as the perceptible loss of pace in the English translation: INE: ¿Eres criado de don Félix? TAR: En este caso algo más. INE: ¿Amigo? TAR: Mas un poquito. INE: ¿Deudo? TAR: Otro poquito más. INE: Pues, ¿qué eres? TAR: Su tercero. INE: ¿Qué decís? TAR: ¿Te pesará? INE: No; que antes me has hecho gusto. TAR: Y ¿lo estimas? INE: Claro está. [No puede ser…, Jor. II, pp. 193–4]

LIV: […] If you be a servant to don Horatio? TAR: In this business somewhat more. LIV: What, his kinsman? TAR: Somewhat more yet. LIV: What are you then? TAR: His friend who has run this hazard to let you know the sincerity of his love, and How much he is concern’d about your Brother’s severity. LIV: Is it possible? TAR: Most true, I hope you are not dissatisfi’d with the matter. LIV: On the contrary I infinitely rejoyce. [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act II, p. 12]

The translator reproduces neither the agility of the original conversation nor its jocular tone. Among these paralinguistic elements, other effects should be mentioned that are more difficult to identify, such as the speed of comic delivery and certain pauses and hesitations, not forgetting the possibilities of lamentation as a humorous device. Spanish authors seem not to employ this last possibility very much (or at least, there is little evidence of it in the text), in contrast to the translators. Crying in public was not common in Spanish comedy, not even among the ladies, as it went against the decorum expected of a theatrical performance. A desperate Leonor makes this clear when she affirms:

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

LEONOR:

Dame, señor, licencia para que en tanta pena, en dolor tanto me retire a llorar de tu presencia; que no es razón que descortés mi llanto pierda a tus confianzas el decoro. No llore yo, sabiendo tú que lloro. [No siempre…, Jornada II, p. 116]

The question of decorum supposes no problem for Digby, who shows Elvira crying, handkerchief in hand (p. 460), and Francisca, for humorous effect, pretending to feel deeply the situation of her mistress (whose love affair has been discovered by her brother) and exclaiming: FRANCISCA: But I’m sure the occasion gives me a sad heart –O my dear lady! [As if she were crying] [Elvira, or…, Act V, p. 471]

Calderón uses tears, those of Violante in El astrólogo..., inferred when she is unable to continue reading and tears up the letter in which he says he is leaving. Carlos, who secretly loves her, compares his lady’s tears with pearls (p. 245). Tuke, for his part, uses women’s’ tears on three occasions: in the first act he says that Camilla “puts her handkerchief to her eyes” (p. 57), and that Porcia “weeps” (p. 61). Later, in the fourth act, Porcia weeps again, bemoaning her fate, and “takes her handkerchief from her eyes” (p. 111) on the arrival of Camilla. Crowne does the same, indicating to the reader in a note in Sir Courtly Nice that the lady “pretends to burst into tears” (Act V, pp. 90 and 94). Finally, repetition is used only sparingly for humorous effect in the original comedies but is taken up by the translators. Crowne, for example, uses “your most humble servant” (Act IV, pp. 70–72), which Aunt and Sir Courtly repeat time and time again in a vain attempt to show which is the best mannered. Aunt uses repetition on several occasions: VIO: AUNT: VIO: AUNT: VIO: AUNT:

Oh! Good Madam! Oh! Madam… pardon me […] Oh! Sweet Madam! Oh! Madam! Our family has found it… you pleas’d to honour us with your Friendship. We may venture to expose our Frailties before you. Madam, you’ll be so good to pardon… madam… Oh! Madam! Well, really, Madam... [Sir Courtly Nice, Act I, pp. 22–23]



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

In this case, Aunt can count on the complicity of her niece to construct a dialogue, of which the above is only a brief extract, in which there is constant repetition of “Oh!” and “Madam”. Aunt continues in her peculiar style in the following acts: AUNT: Our Family’s dishonour’d, dishonour’d — here was a Fellow, a handsome young Fellow wi’ my Niece. Oh! My Flesh! My Flesh. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act V, p. 85]

All these examples reveal significant differences between the source and target texts in their management of paralinguistic and stylistic elements. The translators use fewer latinisms, but employ them in different situations, or prefer French. The use of culterano language, exclamations or sound plays with comic effect are devices not exploited with the same intensity in the English text, although they are repeatedly compensated for with others such as greater use of tears, asides or comic repetition. 6.1.1.2 Gesture Facial expressions and body movements are among the most complex systems of non-verbal communication and play an important part in the actor’s attempts to achieve a humorous effect. As we have seen, however, the Spanish texts rarely make gesture explicit, which means that on reading a comedy stage directors and actors must use their skills to imagine and express a whole series of humorous moments. It is in this way that we can imagine Tarugo acting the false tailor and showily taking the ladies’ measurements, or Ginés with cowardice written all over his face. The English translators, though, give much more importance to gesture with humorous intent, as we shall see. In Siglo de Oro comedies, the most commonly employed gestural comicity is that based on exaggeration: fights between servants are much more frequent than the courteous duels between beaux. However, even when these fights take place on stage, there are no allusions in the source text as to what gestures the actors should adopt, in clear contrast to the translations. An example is this exchange between Chichon and Francisca in Elvira, or…: FRAN: D. ZAN:

Away, sauce-box. [She thrusting him off, goes on. Don Zancho sets himself just in her way, and makes as if he would lie down in it] Pass, trample on me, do, trample… but hear me. [Elvira, or…, Act IV, p. 465]

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

There are no such detailed instructions in the Spanish works as to the movements of the characters. Fights between master and servant are, of course, frequent. Chichon “makes as if he would sit down, and Don Zancho giving him a kick on the breech” (Elvira, or…, Act II, p.  457). These struggles and falls provoke laughter and, we may suppose, often exaggerated gestures of fear and self-protection. The translator, however, goes further, and on occasions transforms the original situation by additional gesture. Thus, when Morón (El astrólogo...) saves his master from a difficult situation and makes him an astrologer, Don Diego can but thank him, and exclaims: “Dame tus brazos” (Jornada II, p. 242); Bellamy’s reaction to the same event in the English text is just the opposite, “[he] takes him by the throat”, and then, “while he is speaking, Bellamy stops his Mouth by Fits” (Act III, p. 314). This change in gesture makes the English version the funnier. The same device is used by Dryden in An Evening’s Love; in the original text, Don Diego urges Violante to write a letter to Don Juan so that, thanks to Don Diego’s powers, he will return from Zaragoza that same night, and dictates: [Escribe Violante] AUR: Is it absolutely necessary you should VIO: Notad vos press my hand thus? DIE: Don Juan, ya sé… BEL: Furiously necessary. I assure you, VIO: Adelante. Madam; […] Now, madam, I am farther to DIE: Adonde estáis, venid desire of you, to write a note to his Genius, aquesta noche a hablarme wherein you desire him to appear […] o iré donde estáis vos AUR: I tremble furiously. a descubrir maldades BEL: Give me your hand, I’ll guide it. VIO: Ya está puesto. DIE: Firmad. [They write] vuestro nombre. [An Evening’s…, Act III, p. 329] VIO: Violante. [Firma] [El astrólogo..., Jornada II, p. 250]

In the English version, Bellamy helps the lady write the letter, but he does so pressing her hand tightly, causing her to protest and, we can be sure, making the audience laugh. In this text the information contained in the stage direction appears later quoted literally in the dialogue, and so, in contrast to El astrólogo..., no reference is made to its content. The misfortunes of the masters are also suffered by their servants, almost always with humorous consequences: in No siempre… the droll, fleeing from the master of the house, has to jump off a balcony. His resulting lameness is the cause of ribald comments:

[Salen don Diego y Ginés cojeando] DIE: Tú has de ir GIN: Yo no he de ir. DIE: ¿Por qué?

[He halts about, grumbling] ZAN: Go rest tonight, or grumble, As you please; but do not think limping will serve your turn



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

DIN: Porque la más singular razón que hay para no andar, es tener quebrado un pie. DIE: ¡Válgate Dios! ¡Qué notable estás! [No siempre…, Jornada II, p. 126]

tomorrow; faith, I’ll make you stir your stumps. Think you a lover of my temper likely to sit down by it so? [Elvira, or…, Act II, p. 457]

Although the translation differs slightly from the original, in the English version we see the injured Chichon, like his counterpart Ginés, complaining to his master that his lameness does not free him from having to carry out another task. Another set of comic devices is that of gestures that express the coarseness of the droll, or his cowardice as when Quatrín and his master engage in violent combat: QUAT: Mientras pasa la pendencia quiero subirme en un árbol. [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 117]

DIE: My Friend engaged and I excluded! Cursed Fate! This tree may help me to climb o’er. [The Adventures…, Act III, p. 82]

Once safe in the tree, and when the fight is over, the English droll ironically points out those who are running away, heightening the comicity of the scene. This comment, of course, does not appear in the original text: DIEGO: [In the tree, pointing to those who are going off] That doubtless is my Master who, victorious, is bravely marching off with his fair Prize. [The Adventures…, Act III, p. 83]

Unseemly behaviour of servants and drolls is more frequent in the translations than in the source texts: in Sir Courtly…, Surly “stammers and belches” (p. 46) in front of Sir Courtly, who later prepares to kiss the hand of the vulgar servant. Surly, once more evidencing his boorishness, responds with a: “Kiss my breech!” (p. 77). Similarly Sir Courtly’s desire to kiss Leonora are met with “a Box o’ th’ Ear” (p. 104). Comic facial mimicry, which should be very frequent (see the tears mentioned in the previous section), is rarely made explicit in the original comedies, although some examples may be found: BEA: Rigurosa estás THEO: Ah Beatrix, you have betray’d and sold me MAR: Por ti, infame. BEAT: You have betray’d and sold yourself, Madam. [El astrólogo..., Jor. II, p. 232] [An Evening’s…, Act II, p. 313]

María is annoyed at her maid’s indiscretion in telling of her, till then, secret meetings with Don Juan; hence her serious expression. Although in this particular case Dryden has decided not to translate Maria’s facial gesture, the English texts are full of indications regarding the characters’ facial movements:

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

[D. FÉLIX coteja recatadamente el [Patricio makes a stand as retrato con el rostro de don Félix] in a maze] [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 193] [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act IV, p. 29]

Both relate the reaction of Don Pedro when he meets Don Félix, of whom he had previously seen a portrait, in person. The English stage note places more emphasis on the gesture the actor should adopt, one of the many examples that appear in the target text; in Elvira, or… a meeting between Doña Blanca, Chichon and his master is anticipated thus: “Donna Blanca casting an eye that way, and Chichon clinging up close behind his master, and making a mouth” (Elvira, or…, Act II, p. 453). It is equally amusing to see the maid Francisca distressed before her mistress and acting “as if she were crying” (Elvira, or…, Act V, p. 471). The maid in An Evening’s…, Camilla, covers her face with her hands to avoid being seen (Act III, p. 330), while the servant Locura pretends to be upset at her mistress’s lovesickness: LIVIANA: Did you hear all this, Locura? LOCURA: Yes, madam, with great Grief.

[Tarugo’s Wiles, Act V, p. 46]

The extreme expression of humorous gesture is found in the droll, but it is also present in other characters. We can imagine the expression of pain on Bellamy’s face when his shoes hurt him: “My Shoes so pinch me, I can scarse go a Step farther” (Act I, p. 299). There are clearer references in Los empeños... when Flora and Nise “salen acechando” (Jornada II, p. 120) to avoid being discovered; or in The Adventures…, where lack of light makes Diego, Flora and Pedro advance, “groping as in the dark” (Act V, p. 119). These are two clear examples of gesticulation as a reaction to darkness, although the use of darkness to give rise to comic situations is not limited to Coello and Tuke; Calderón also employs it, though without mentioning how the characters should react. Digby, on two occasions, does specify this and uses stage directions to make it clear how the actors and actresses should move in these cases: “Exit Don Julio groping, and drawing don Fernando with him” (Act IV, p. 469). Dryden uses the same device almost at the end of the work, where lack of light results in the characters “groping their way” (An Evening’s…, p. 376). Typical of the Spanish Golden Age drama are the veiled women who communicate with signs to avoid being recognised, or sometimes use mime for other ends; in No siempre… Inés makes signs to Leonor for her to lie, and say it is she Don Diego has come to see: BEA: ¡Qué buena disculpa, Inés, FRAN: We’re surer lost than ever, unless she si ahora Isabel conformara have wit and heart to take the things upon her. con ella! Haz señas que diga Madam, make signs to her, and earnestly. que sí, que ella es la dama. [Blanca makes earnest signs to Elvira] [Hace Inés señas a Leonor] She looks this way, as if she comprehended. [No siempre…, Jornada II, p. 139] [Elvira, or…, Act IV, p. 468]



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

The device is maintained, although in the English version it is the lady, and not the maid, who gesticulates. Of interest, too, is the stereotyped gesture denoting the greed of a maid, belying her words: when the beau offers a diamond, the maids verbally refuse it, while taking it in their hands, a gesture systematically commented on by the beau, who sees how his jewel is taken from him. There is a clear example in El astrólogo..., with no counterpart in the English version: DON DIEGO: MORÓN: DON DIEGO: BEATRIZ:

Tú, Beatriz, que al fin has sido a quien he debido más, toma esta cadena. BEATRIZ: ¿Das las prisiones? En qué aprieto se va poniendo el secreto, como ve que libre estás. Una república había que al médico no pagaba, señor, hasta que llamaba el enfermo: y si moría tiempo y cuidado perdía; y esta ley tan bien fundada, a nuestro intento aplicada digo, que de amor que muere, el alcahuete no espere tener derechos en nada: ¿La cadena le das? Sí. Quitándote las prisiones, en el alma me las pones, y fía, señor, de mí. [El astrólogo fingido, Jornada I, p. 231]

In No siempre… there is an almost identical situation, which this time is translated; although the maid’s reticence is not explicit, in the English text it is made clear:

DIE: Y fía de mí, después de esto que ahora te da mi amor, la satisfacción. [Dale un bolsillo] INÉS: Para mí excusadas son estas cosas. GINÉS: Claro está.

D. ZAN: But I am to blame thus to forget my duty; I’ll stay no longer. [He stops her, and, pulling out a purse of money, puts it into her hand] ZAN. Spoke like an angel. [Francisca offers to restore the purse, but yet holding it fast] FRAN: This is, you know, superfluous with me,

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

[No siempre…, Jornada II, p. 131] and shocks my humour… But anything from you…. [Elvira, or…, Act IV, p. 466]

This device was popular among the translators, who used it even when there was no similar situation in the original; in El astrólogo..., María acknowledges the favours done by her maid by presenting her with a diamond, which she delightedly accepts. In An Evening’s Love, it is Don Melchior who, in thanks, gives the present to the maid, Camilla. In English, Camilla’s reticence is a cause of laughter:

MAR: Por la pintura que has hecho, MEL: Take this, and please yourself in the Beatriz, toma este diamante choice of it... BEA: Justo será que me espante [Gives her money] de ver agrado en tu pecho, CAM: Nay, dear Sir, now you make me blush; tratando cosas de amor. In faith I… am asham’d… I swear, ‘tis only [El astrólogo..., Jornada I, p. 225] because I would keep something for your sake. [An Evening’s Love, Act IV, p. 357]

Dryden uses gifts with comic intent in situations that rarely arise in the Siglo de Oro plays: Jacinta, in disguise, pretends to be the maid of a mysterious lady and gives a purse of money to Wildblood, ruined by gambling. He immediately accepts the gift and declares his love for the mysterious lady, when moments earlier he had been declaring himself to the now unrecognised Jacintha: JAC: WIL:

One of the Ladies in the Masque tonight has taken a liking to you; and sent you by me this Purse of Gold, in recompence of that she saw you lose. And she expects in return of it, that I should wait on her; I’ll do’t, where lives she? I am desperately in love with her. [An Evening’ s Love, Act IV, p. 345]

This example is no exception; there are humorous devices depending on gesture throughout the text that are introduced by the translators and have no parallel in the source texts; thus Dryden omits the scene in which Otáñez “ponse a caballo en un banco” (Jornada III, p. 264), a bench on which he expects to fly away and to which he gives recommendations to combat the cold: “Ahora tapaos con ese gabán muy bien, / y yo los ojos también / os vendaré”. To compensate for this, he creates another, equally comic, in which the characters, to avoid being recognised by the old man, pretend to be bewitched, and appear on stage “all without a motion, in a rank” (Act V, p. 373). A sneeze adds humour to the scene and puts an end to the confusion. In this same work there is a fight among gentlemen that ends in chaos, as is



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

made clear in the corresponding stage note: “The Spaniards are beaten off the stage; the Musicians on both sides, and Servants fall confusedly one over the other. They all get off ” (Act II, p. 321). Equally outlandish is the reaction of Alberto in Tarugo’s Wiles, when he chooses an extremely odd way to show his thanks to the cook: “He embraces the Cook, sucking his head” (Acto II, p. 13). In Sir Courtly Nice Surly, who is drunk, insists on kissing Sir Courtly, which he finally does, though belching at the same time. Sir Courtly’s reaction is so exaggerated that the scene ends hilariously: SIR CO:

Who is there? I’m sick to death… to death. Let me in… get my Bed ready… and a Bath… And some Perfumes… I’m sick to death…. I’m dead… [exit] [Sir Courtly Nice, Act III, p. 50]

In this same play, the translator has his characters refer to the use of certain gestures, as in the case of Violante, that involve us in the movements expected of a married man in the presence of a lady: “Poise your hat, draw your left Leg backward, bow with your body, and look like an Ass” (p. 104); there are even scenes of ridiculous pantomime: in Tarugo’s Wiles, Alberto and Cook start to dance, imitating the movements of a baboon4, and end their ridiculous dance accompanied by a coloured servant: ALBERTO: COOK:

Bring out the Negro-Girl, and we’ll have a dance to see if he’ll imitate us. My liar upon’t, provided you do not beat him. [They dance, where Pugge at the corner of the Stage imitates with the Negro-girl] [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act II, p. 14]

As we have seen, in both the Spanish comedias and their English translations gestures were often designed to increase the comic effect of words and so enhance the enjoyment of the audience. Although gesture for humorous effect played an essential part in Siglo de Oro theatre, the texts provide little information, in contrast to the English texts, where references to such gestures abound. The translators transfer many of the few allusions in the original texts, or incorporate them in other scenes of their work; on other occasions they enrich the action of the source work with new references to gestures that accentuate the humour of the situation, a practice also applied to scenes of their own invention.

4. This animal was clearly intended to catch and hold the audience’s attention, as the translator makes clear in his epilogue: “And for his Friends above in the exalted Stalls, he expects the best from them, since he has complemented them with a Monky and a Jigge”.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

6.1.1.3 Proxemics5 Body movements for humorous effect are also frequent in original and translated texts, especially in dashes and chases, innumerable entrances and exits, beaux who have to rapidly conceal themselves, precipitate flights, etc. The unexpected arrivals of the father or brother of the lady whose honour they are to protect, with the resulting concealment of the beau or fear of the lady, are numerous, and translated in all cases:

INÉS: Señora, mi señor sube. FRAN: Oh heavens! Madam, hear not your DIE: ¿Qué quieres que haga? brother? BEA: No sé. Into the chamber, quickly, and let them INÉS: Yo sí, entrad en la cuadra retire behind that hanging; there’s a place donde escondidos estéis. where usually we throw neglected things. [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 100] [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 454]

OCT: Aprisa, POR: Oh Octavio! Let not this moment slip salgamos, sigue mis pasos. to free me from my cruel brother’s Fury, POR: Si haré, si el temor me deja. or never hope to see me any more, Vamos pues, Octavio. amongst the living. [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 117] [The Adventures…, Act III, p. 83]

The dynamic effects are increased by the concentration of characters in a reduced space, for example behind curtains, or on account of darkness, as in Los empeños... The distance between persons is also made use of: drolls excluded from their masters’ conversations, or beaux and servants who draw back from fights out of cowardice. All this is evident in the originals and in the translations: DIE: La puerta hallé; esto no es ZAN: There’s no dishonour in a wise retreat volver al riesgo la cara from disadvantages, to meet again sino fiar a mejor one’s enemy upon a fairier score. ocasión mis esperanzas. [Elvira, or…, Act IV, p. 469] [No siempre…, Jornada II, p. 143]

This use of movement requires great precision, as in the portrait scene in No puede ser…. Here it is based on the permutation of positions of the lady and the droll, who have to hide a portrait: TARUGO: INÉS:

Antes quisiera que aquí unas telas veáis. Y algunas cosas curiosas de las que truje de allá. Veamos.

5. This term refers to the communicative use of space, in this case stage space, in the different cultures, as coined by Edward T. Hall in his book The Hidden Dimension (1959).



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

TARUGO: INÉS: TARUGO: INÉS: TARUGO: INÉS: TARUGO: INÉS: TARUGO: INÉS:

[Mostrando lo que trae] Estas son joyas. ¿Y qué es aquesta? Aguardad, que esta no es joya. Pues, ¿qué es? ¿Qué aquí lo hube de olvidar? ¡Vive Dios! Ten, no la escondas; que no te la he de quitar. No hay por qué, él es un retrato. Veisle aquí. Bien hecho está. ¿Conocéis el dueño? No. [No puede ser…, Jornada I, p. 193]

The device employed here is different from that of the grotesque dashes, although the humorous atmosphere is the same. The English translations express this situation differently: in Tarugo’s Wiles Liviana does not recognise, as Doña Inés did, the portrait of her beloved, and the translator resolves the game of hide and seek by stage notes. Crowne does exploit the situation, and introduces another character, Aunt, from whom he must conceal the portrait and so achieving the comic effect desired. Here, however, Leonora immediately recognises the person in the portrait, as can be seen from this comparison of the two translations of No puede ser...:

TAR: But, madam, before I take measure CRA: To you, Madam, I wou’d will you honour view some choice Indian- recommend this piece. Stuffs? [Whilst he’s showing ‘em out he LEO: Mr Farewell’s Picture Oh! I Sirrah! drops Horatio’s Picture, which Liviana Now I guess thee.. my Dear…Dear takes up]. [Kisses the Picture] LIV: Show ‘em out: What is this? CR: Have a care o’ your Aunt, Madam. TAR: Bless me, Heav’ns, How brought [Sir Courtly…, Act II, pp. 40–1]

I it hither? LIV: Hold, let me view it a little; really It is a delicate Piece; I pray whose picture is it? [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act II, p. 12]

These examples of proxemics in the performance show the translators’ interest in their comic effect, independently of other changes in the target text. In any case, most of these spatial transfer devices, both in the original works and in their translations, correspond to a dynamic intention: the importance of the action and the need at all times to hold the spectator’s attention.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

6.1.1.4 Stage space and scenography Scenography may also play an important part in humour. In Spanish comedies, its practice depends on the auditorium, and differs depending on whether this is a courtly hall or the mixed environment of a play yard. Court theatre might be very rich in scenographic effects (Arellano 1999: 284), but the play yards also had various levels and items of furniture that facilitated certain humorous scenes, sometimes complemented by “verbal décor”, or visual descriptions in the text: .

DIE: ESC:

Agradable vista ofrece este jardín, bien le adorna con su hermosura esta fuente, y esta fresca galería. Ya es otro lugar aqueste, pues de las que oí, no ha mucho, son las voces diferentes.

[El astrólogo..., Act IV, p. 264]

Don Diego’s description confuses the squire Otáñez, who, straddling a bench, believes he is flying. This is a clear example of how the elements used to define the space in which the action takes place, in this case a bench and the garden, also have a humorous purpose. Although this bench is not present in the target text, it is normal for the elements on stage to be used by both playwrights and translators. The presence of a balcony, for example, is fundamental in many humorous situations, especially as a way to escape the sword of an irate master. The similarities between Spanish and English stages allow these scenes, in all cases, to be easily reproduced in the target culture: INÉS: Yo volveré a sacaros. FRAN: Yonder balcony, at farther end o’ th’ Y si cierra mi amo la puerta, room, opens into the street, and the descent is saldréis cuando ya esté recogido little beyond your height, hung by the arms: por ese balcón when Julio is asleep, I shall not fail donde escondidos estéis. to come and let you out. [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 102] [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 455]

In this example, the maid plans her escape via the balcony, which will also serve as a comic device in other contexts, even when these are not in the original text. This is the case with Tarugo, who falls from the balcony as a result of the fit he suffers at the sight of a lady (Tarugo’s Wiles, Act IV, p. 39). The devices most frequently resorted to are those that meet the requirements of increasingly tangled plots; they are present in the works analysed here as in the rest of the Spanish Golden Age comedias: secret communications, hiding places, doors… Physical presence on the stage is not always necessary; sometimes it is enough to suppose that the character hides in his or her chamber after leaving the



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

stage. This is the case, for example, in Los empeños...and in No siempre…: in the second case, Don Diego runs to a room to avoid being caught by the brother of the lady he is courting, only to find that Leonor, a lady he had already offended in Madrid, is already concealed there. This humorous encounter is a surprise for both, especially for Leonor/Elvira, who laments the disasters that befall her: LEO: Hombre, que más me pareces ELV: Good gods! Zancho here! It cannot be, sombra, ilusión o fantasma, or ‘tis his ghost, come to revenge his death ¿qué me quieres? ¿No bastó on its occasioner; for, were he alive el echarme de mi casa he could not but have more humanity sino también de la ajena? than (having been my ruin at Madrid [No siempre…, Jornada II, p. 139] and robb’d me of my home and honour there) to envy me an obscure shelter here. [Elvira, or…, Act IV, p. 468]

The stage therefore plays an important part in the scenes where someone is hiding. If in the Spanish texts the hiding places are cuadras or chambers, in the target texts it is “the hangings” that usually have this function, although on occasions there are stage directions that place the character “at a distance”, meaning that the actor must stay, motionless, in a poorly lit part of the stage and can, at the same time, spy on what is happening nearby. Similarly, the doors that are a key element in tangled plots do not need to be physically present, even when they are mentioned repeatedly in original and target texts alike: Salen don Juan y don Carlos por una puerta, y Leonor, con luces, por otra. [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 100]

Exit, and Francisca at another door with the lights. [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 454]

The humour derives from the skill with which those fleeing a pursuer manage to avoid being caught. Los empeños... and its translation provide a clear example, and four doors are required to obtain the effect desired. Other devices involve scaling the garden wall, the chaise that half the cast believes contains Porcia, constant flights and numerous locked doors, without forgetting that almost all the action takes place at night. Stage and stage effects play a vital part, therefore, in assuring the successful resolution of many of the comic scenes. The similarity between the Spanish and English stages, already referred to, undoubtedly facilitates the task of the translator, who often makes use of the same devices that the original author employed.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

6.1.1.5 Costume Despite the lack of detailed information, there are examples of occasions where the translators imitate the Spanish authors and others where they choose different ways of producing humour through costume. Dryden seems to have had his own ideas on how to use the dress of the actors and actresses. In El astrólogo..., the maid Beatriz describes the costume of Don Juan, who is wearing boots, spurs and “muchas plumas, que llevadas del viento, me parecía que volar don Juan quería” (p.  225). The mocking tone employed by he maid may have caused laughter when Don Juan eventually appeared on stage and surprised his sweetheart María, who cannot help cry out: “Señor Don Juan, ¿espuelas, y plumas?” (Act I, p. 227). In Act III, the squire Otáñez dresses up for a projected journey by air to the mountains, made feasible by the supposedly magical powers of the astrologer: proud of his rank, he exits “muy galán, con botas y espuelas”. One of the functions of this rich attire was to attract spectators to corrales6, but without doubt the garish costumes also provoked laughter. The translator, however, omits both situations, and creates new ones in which dress is again important. In An Evening’s…, Dryden employs a device typical of continental and English theatre of the time, that is, the use of disguise with humorous intent. This is a realistic device in this comedy, since the action takes place on Carnival Tuesday. Jacintha passes herself off as a Moroccan and a mulatto, and although we have no details of her attire, she is not recognised by her loved one on either occasion, drawing laughter from the audience (Acts III and IV). We may suppose that the same would occur with the disguises of Don Melchior and Don Lopez in Act II. Finally, there would also seem to be a humorous intent in the words of Aurelia when she describes her own clothing: “This Dress is a Libel to my beauty; a mere Lampoon. Would anyone that had the least Revenue of common sense have done this?” (Act III, p. 326). In this particular translation there is only one example in which a humorous use of costume in Spanish is reproduced, at least partially. This is when Morón announces to his master the arrival of a lady: MORÓN:

Una señora de angosto talle, y de cadera ancha con más cañas, que carro de la Mancha, a quien el manto solo dexa fuera un ojo, que le sirve de lumbrera,

6. In Spain, restrictions on expensive clothing prevented theatregoers showing off in public, but actors were exempt during performance. This showiness of costume affected not only the principal characters but also minor ones, especially those whose function was merely visual (Ruano de la Haza 2000:  46–48). Opulent clothing was also an added attraction for London spectators of the time, to the point where the king himself made his own wardrobe and that of his courtiers available to the companies for their performances.



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 



dice que hablarte quiere.

[El astrólogo..., Act II, p. 248]

The lady in question is Quiteria, who arrives at Don Diego’s house with her face covered but coquettishly leaving her left eye exposed. In An Evening’s…, the lady also is wearing a veil, but it is only said that she is “one of the greatest coquette’s in Madrid” (Act III, p.  325). Dryden faithfully transfers the spirit of the “covered woman”, who in this case seems to wish to excite the interest of the men, but does not insist on the physical description of Doña Aurelia because her most marked characteristic is not her appearance but her affected vocabulary. Disguise is also used in No siempre… and its English translation, Elvira, or…, but to different ends. Here, Leonor has to serve as a maid to protect herself from her father’s wrath, “vestida pobremente, con manto” (Act I, p. 88), and adopting the behaviour of a serving-girl. We may assume that the English Elvira also dressed like a servant, and that the contrast between her attire and her refined manners would probably be used as a source of amusement. No puede ser… includes various situations in which clothing adds humour to a scene, especially on the two occasions when Tarugo disguises himself to gain access to the house of Doña Inés. On his first visit, the droll passes himself off as a tailor, and dresses appropriately. We are advised of this in a stage direction, which also appears, somewhat changed, in the two translations: Sale Tarugo, de sastre, Enter Tarugo disguis’d Enter Crack con un envoltorio de ropas like a Taylor with y alhajas. several Indian-Stuffs. [No puede ser…, I, p. 192] [Tarugo’s…, I, p. 11] [Sir Courtly…, II, p. 39]

In the Spanish text, the droll pretends to be a tailor from Morocco. Tarugo carries with him objects that reflect where he has come from. In the case of Sir Courtly Nice, the stage direction does not refer to the external appearance of the droll, although later on in the dialogue we are informed that he is a purported tailor with “measure and patterns”, although France is the country where he learned his trade. Whatever the case, the foreign origins of the bogus tailor (Morocco in Spanish; the Indies and France in the translations) adds a note that is at once exotic and humorous. On his second visit, the Spanish Tarugo pretends to be an indiano to achieve his ends, and his clothes are slightly different from those of the English drolls: Enter Tarugo, de caballero, con hábito de Santiago, botas y espuelas. [No puede ser…, II, p. 197]

Enter Tarugo, in the habit of a Knight, with his Servants Laden with Boxes. [Tarugo’s…, IV, p. 33]

Enter Crack, ridiculously dressed, attended by Men In the Habits of Siamites and Bantamers. [Sir Courtly…, III, p. 58]

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

This is a clear example of comedy deriving from a situation in which a person of low rank appears in the disguise of a posh gentleman, and Crowne leaves no room for doubt when he announces the arrival of Crack “vestido ridículamente”. In the translations the dress of those accompanying him would certainly add to the humorous effect; not for nothing are we told, in Sir Courtly…, that the slaves with Crack are wearing “the ridiculous Dresses and Modes of their own Countries” (Act III, p. 57). It is interesting that something as deeply rooted in Spanish culture as the hábito de Santiago requires a variety of strategies on the part of the translators. Crowne determined, as Dryden would, to exploit even further the comic possibilities of clothing, and in an additional scene shows “a Company of Crooked, Wither’d Ill-look’d Fellows at Breakfast, and Aunt with them” (Act I, p. 22). Aunt’s niece opens the door and allows all to see the older woman “in her Undress”, arousing her feigned anger: AUNT: LEO:

Sober person o’ Quality that has an Inclination for you, shou’d ha’ seen this Rudeness in you, to expose your aunt in this manner, in her Undress; it might ha’ created in him an aversion for you. An Aversion for me, to see your ill dress! [Aside] [Sir Courtly Nice, Act I, p. 22]

The entrance of Surly, with his dirty shoes, must have been similarly amusing, as one of the servants gets annoyed at the marks he has left on the floor (Act III, p. 45). Further, when Surly appears on the stage, Sir Courtly receives him with a bow so exaggerated that the other thinks he wishes to take off his shoe: “What are you unbu… buckling my Shoe?” (Act III, p. 46). The use of clothing intended to provoke laughter was very frequent in Spanish comedies, and so, in English Restoration drama was the act of dressing or undressing, as this was the best moment for the spectators to contemplate the characters’ apparel. There are no scenes of this type in the four Spanish comedies studied here, although there are several in two of the English translations, four of them in Elvira, or…: we find Blanca “sitting at her toilet, undressing” while “Elvira offers to unpin her gorget” (Act II, p.  455). In the second act, Elvira announces that the maid Francisca is with her mistress, dressing her (p. 460), and in act IV Doña Blanca is seen again, “beginning to unpin” (p. 467). In Sir Courtly Nice, this gentleman appears getting dressed with “men and women singing to him” (Act III, p. 44), a sophisticated entertainment very much in keeping with his character. His clothes reflect his arrogance, and this, accompanied by gestures, can hardly leave the audience unmoved. When, dressed at last, he arrives at the house of Lord Bellguard, his attire perplexes Testimony: BELL: Who’s at the Door?



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

TEST: BELL: TEST: BELL: TEST:

A lamentable Soul. A beggar? A more sad Object; but I conceive he comes rather rob than to beg, form he comes arm’d with a strong Bow and Arrows, A Bow and Arrows? What, is he a Tartar? A Bow and Arrows made of ribbons, laces and other idle Vanities, wherewith he intends to wound your Sister’s Heart. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act IV, p. 68]

Finally, capes and cloaks are an element of concealment and disguise essential in the complications of the plots of all the original plays studied here and their translations. In Los empeños... and in its English adaptation a cloak is the source of confusion: Porcia takes Nise’s cloak so that she will be mistaken for her, giving rise to a series of varied humorous misunderstandings that will continue to the end of the play; Camilla’s veil is used to similar effect. There is also an amusing situation in Sir Courtly… in which the lady uses a veil to appear as a prostitute: CRACK: Here comes into my chamber a hot burnt Whore with a black Crust upon her Face; here she is. [Crack pulls in Leonora Vizarded] [Sir Courtly…, Act V, p. 98]

Crowne makes the most of the moment to criticise the manner in which some women of the time dress, and Bellguard observes of English ladies that “beauty lies ambush’d in Undresses […] the Garments are loose, and flowing as the Sea” (Act IV, pp. 64–65). Regrettably, there is not much information available that would allow us to reproduce the comic possibilities of dress in the original texts: directions are brief and lacking in detail, and leave out such potentially revealing aspects as texture, colour, anachronisms etc. The fact that playwrights entrusted the director of the theatrical company with staging the work may well explain why we, like the translators of the time, are deprived of this information. The translators do, however, make use of some of the devices of the original (veils, disguises) and add others of their own creation for the same purpose, often being more explicit. Oddly enough, neither in the originals nor in the translations is there any case of the comic device of disguising women as men7 (popular because it left more of the female body uncovered), and which was employed both in Siglo de Oro drama and in Restoration theatre. Scenes of this kind appear in no fewer than 89 English comedies of 7. As Juan Manuel Rozas affirms (1976: 118), the so-called “disfraz varonil” (manly guise) was very well received by the male members of the audience, as trousers and leggings moulded to a woman’s form were the height of daring in comparison to the female attire of the period.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

the period (Styan 1986: 134), clear proof of the appeal of the device and its erotic and humorous possibilities. 6.1.1.6 Makeup and hairstyle If reference to costume is rare in the Spanish texts, mention of makeup and hairdos is practically inexistent. Despite this lack of explicit detail, however, it may be assumed that there was a more or less intensive use of these devices at the discretion of the stage manager. The same is true of the English translations, although here more details are available. In An Evening’s…, Aurelia asks her maid’s opinion of her hairdo: AURELIA: How am I dressed To-night, Camilla? Is nothing disordered in my head? CAMILLA: Not the least Hair, Madam. [An Evening’s…, Act III, p. 326]

As her clothes are ridiculous we may assume that her hair is too. In the same work, we know that Don López de Gamboa wears a beard: “As I am a Cavalier, and by my Beard, I will” (Act II, p. 322). Apart from these two examples, there are no references in this text or in the others to excessively made-up cheeks or exaggeratedly painted beauty spots, which were customary on the English stage both for men and women. Heavily applied makeup was a sign of lack of modesty and so a good source of comedy. There is, however, in Sir Courtly Nice, a possible reference to a lady’s hairdo when Bellguard criticises the concept of beauty of a woman who, in his opinion, puts her hair up so that it apears “pinned up in Papers like Serpents coil’d, to fly on you with greater Force” (Act IV, p. 65). As Styan (1986: 46) asserts, it was common to see on the Restoration stage hairdos and makeup that were intended to ridicule the French or Spanish, once again offending against decorum. This could have been the image of the Spanish characters in The Adventures…, Elvira, or… or An Evening’s…, and Crack may well have been made up in this way when he passed himself off as a tailor from France. In the same text Sir Courtly is also mocked: “[he] stands bare to his own Periwig” (p. 31), suggesting that a wig was part of his attire. The wig obviously has many comic possibilities (for example, when it is displaced by the hat), although these are not expressly indicated. The humorous potential of makeup and hairdos is not therefore in doubt, despite the paucity of information in the original texts and in the translations, which latter, however, do tend to offer slightly more detail.



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

6.1.1.7 Figures of ridicule Although the term “figura ridícula” is principally used to refer to certain characters in the entremes genre (Arellano 1999: 295), we have broadened its scope here to refer to characters whose laughable outward appearance has a comic purpose. Without doubt, the figure at whom most of this humour is directed is the gracioso8, a person of humble origins who accompanies the protagonist and is the source of jokes and laughter. He almost always ingratiates himself with the spectators and may even identify with them by breaking dramatic illusion. His role is to provoke situations typical of the Spanish comedies of intrigue, at times coordinating two plots simultaneously, while remaining the adviser and alter ego of the beau. As the counterpart of his master, he seeks a relationship with the lady’s maid (or graciosa, much cleverer and more acute), not for love, but for the sake of comedy and to fulfil the requirements of conventional dramatic parallelism. It is precisely for this reason that the translators retain the figure in their work: he was useful for his humorous function and at the same time familiar, as there are precedents and similarities in English theatre — the fool or clown. In the process of translation much of the original character was lost, though the comic spirit always remained. Analysis of the translations of the comedies reveals a difference in the treatment of this character on the basis of which our target texts can be divided into two groups: one with the droll of Tuke and Digby; the other with that portrayed by Dryden, Sydserf and Crowne. Diego, the English servant in The Adventures…, is similar to his source Quatrín, the lackey of Octavio. He accompanies his master on all the adventures on which he embarks, and at the same time, of course, pursues the maid of the lady his master is courting. Tuke gives his droll such a Spanish air that he even includes information about him that was not in the original: DIEGO: OCTAVIO:

After I had spent seven years at Salamanca, my Father, a rich merchant at this City, was utterly undone, but that damned Englishman with whom we fright our Children. Who Captain Drako? [The Adventures…, Act II, p. 69]

His cowardice becomes evident when, incapable of fighting in defence of his master, he climbs a tree from where he narrates the action. The text is peppered with his humorous and ironic comments until the end when, at last, he marries the maid Flora, as dictated by the rules of comedy. 8. The book by García Lorenzo titled La construcción de un personaje, el gracioso is dedicated to this character (Madrid, 2005).

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

The behaviour of Digby’s Chichon (Elvira, or…) is similar to that of the original, Ginés. Both humorously reproach their master his inappropriate conduct, and betray him by disclosing to his beloved Valencian girl what he has been up to in the capital. Cowardly idlers, they each marry their corresponding maid (Francisca and Inés) at the end of the play. There are, however, certain differences in Digby’s droll, and he is more daring in his comments than Ginés, who, while he may appear more astute and intelligent than his master, still knows his place, and his ability to maintain this balance gives him a charm that is lacking in Chichon. Dryden’s droll shares some characteristics with those of Spanish comedy, though in other aspects he is different. Like Morón, Maskall takes it upon himself to win over Beatrix to get information from her and makes up a story that turns his master into an astrologer. He is the cause of a series of humorous situations, and ends up marrying the maid. Certain details, however, distinguish him from his Spanish model: Maskall serves not one master but two, and these are English (as he himself may have been). His loyalty is placed in doubt when he brazenly approaches Don Alonzo to offer him his services (p. 299). He reacts angrily to his masters’ love affairs and criticises them in comments that lack Morón’s cunning: “A Pox on these fighting Masters of mine, to bring me into this Danger with their Valours and Magnanimities” (p.  321). The English maid seems to be infected with the same boldness, as she is much more forthright in her reactions than Calderón’s Beatriz, as is made plain when each is accused of betrayal by her respective mistress: MAR: Tú, Beatriz, tú me has vendido. THEO: Ah Beatrix, you have betray’d BEA: Yo señora! No hice tal, and sold me. que bien aquesto temía. BEA; You have betray’d and sold yourself, [El astrólogo..., Jornada II, p. 239] madam, by your own Rashness to confess it; Heaven knows I have serv’d you but too faithfully. [An Evening’s…, Act II, p. 313]

The Tarugo of Tarugo’s Wiles shares with his Spanish counterpart his name and his aplomb when he sets in motion the stratagems designed to prove that “you can’t keep a woman safe”. In other aspects he is very different from the Spanish model: Sydserf presents him in the list of characters as “a younger brother, bred in England, and kinsman to Don Horatio”; he is not, therefore, the servant of Don Félix, but an Englishman whose education abroad “has wonderfully improv’d him in dextrous Stratagems” (p. 4). His condition is obvious in the way he expresses himself, far removed from the coarseness of the Spaniard. Furthermore, his motives for participating in the plans of Sophronia and Horatio are different: The English Tarugo accepts them as a challenge that “will stretch my invention to its height”



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

(p. 6), and at no time mentions economic reward; Moreto’s character makes his intentions clear from the outset: TARUGO: ¿No hay pecunia? DON FÉLIX: Cuanta quisieres.

[No puede ser…, Jornada I, p. 191]

Finally, the Tarugo of Moreto marries the maid Manuela, while in the English version he takes his leave, once his mission is completed, as the “humble Servant” of Sophronia (p. 54). The droll in Sir Courtly… is also English. To carry out his various stratagems, Farewel chooses an acquaintance of his called Crack, “a young Fellow that has more tricks than a Witch; he was a poor scholar at Oxford, but expell’d for studying the Black Arts […] Nothing could escape him, and he escaped every thing” (p. 29). He is not, then, the servant of a knight or other personality. Crack lacks the necessary subtlety to conceal his stupidity; he is much more brazen and forthright in his comments than his Spanish counterpart: CRACK: I had an Ambition to be some honourable Profession, such as People of Quality undertake. As for instance Pimping. A Pimp is much above a Doctor. [Sir Courtly…, Act II, p. 30]

Like the original, however, he asks directly for a reward for his services: “Give me some money” (p. 30); “Give me some more Money” (p. 43), although his style does not match that of Tarugo. Crack does not have the forcefulness of the Spaniard, and his behaviour is closer to farce. If Tarugo is the most comical character in the Spanish work, Crack is surpassed in this respect by Sir Courtly. Finally, like Sydserf ’s Tarugo, he too does not marry the maid. Apart from the figure of the droll and his female counterpart, one of the translations, Sir Courtly Nice, incorporates three new characters. Being absent from Moreto’s work, they add much comicity and share with Crack the comic burden of the whole play: the arrogant Sir Courtly, the drunkard Surly and the guardian of honour, Aunt. Sir Courtly recalls one of the prominent characters of seventeenth-century Spanish theatre, the lindo, a ridiculous and affected knight, a lover of fashion, clothes and footwear. As Evangelina Rodríguez (2000:  117) affirms, the lindo is responsible for many references to famous moustachios, manes and wigs, but is at the same time critical of Spanish characteristics and vices such as the obsession with time, or melancholy. This description coincides with the character of the fop in Restoration theatre: a Frenchified knight, vain, though innocently so, and for

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

whom his attire was an extension of his personality9. His entry on stage is always memorable, as he appears accompanied by a page who constantly brushes and adjusts the fop’s clothes; he then proceeds to greet the other characters on the stage, whirling rather than treading over it: SIR CO: Your Lordship’s most humble Servant BELL: Your very humble Servant — Page call my Sister. SIR CO: Madam, your most… [Goes to salute Leonora, Aunt steps first] Oh! Your Ladyship’s very humble Servant… [Salutes Aunt] AUNT: Your most humble Servant SIR CO: Now, madam, your most humble Servant [To Leonora]. [Sir Courtly…, Act IV, p. 70]

Sir Courtly is so wrapped up in these introductions that he does not notice the grimaces of the ladies, who make faces behind his back, but in full view of the audience. They also make sarcastic comments in perfectly audible asides (“He’s very fine!”, “Extreme proper”) with the intention that Sir Courtly should hear them, but his vanity prevents him from catching the real purpose of these words, and he takes them as sincere compliments. Obviously, his eccentricities do not leave the audience unmoved. Surly is the counterpart to Sir Courtly, and the scenes in which both take part are the most comical in the play. The two are as different as fire and water, according to Farewel in the second act: FARE:

Fire and Water are not so contrary. Sir Courtly is so civil a creature, and so respectful to everything belongs to a Gentleman, he stands Bare to his own Periwig. Surly uncovers to nothing but his own Nightcup, nor to that if he be drunk, for he sleeps in his Hat […] Sir Courtly is so pleased in his own Person, his daily Contemplation, nay, his Salvation is a Looking-glass, so there he

9. There are examples of this kind of character in other works of the period, such as The Man of Mode, The Relapse or The Way of the World. Some scholars (Ward 1875 — in Tarantino 1995 — , Seward 1972, Lobato 2003) have indicated another play by Moreto, El lindo don Diego, as a clear influence on Crowne’s translation. It is a fact that the figurón Don Diego resembles Sir Courtly in his vanity, presumptuousness and inability to accept reality, and so Crowne may well have seen the Spanish comedy and extracted from it the fop in his own play. I am more inclined to believe, however, that Sir Courtly is not so much an imitation of the Spanish lindo as another in the long line of fops in Restoration comedies. Crowne might also have been inspired by the character of Sir Fopling Flutter in The Man of Mode, first performed as early as 1676, or in two French works in which the Spanish figurón crosses the Pyrenees: Don Japhet d’Arménie (1651), by Paul Scarron, and Don Bertrand de Cigarral (1652), by Corneille, adaptations, respectively, of El marqués de Cigarral and Entre bobos anda el juego (Losada and Millán 2003: 1397).



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 



finds eternal Happiness, Surly’s Heaven, at least his Priest, is his Claret Glass; for to that he confesses all his Sins. [Sir Courtly…, Act II, p. 31]

Surly lives up to his name, and is bad-humoured and disrespectful. He feels lust rather than love for women, although to him both “are the same thing, the Word Love is a Fig-Leaf to cover the naked Sense, a Fashion brought up by Eve” (p. 34). His love of wine contrasts with Sir Courtly’s revulsion for this drink, which he would never taste again after a trip to France in which he discovered how they pressed grapes: SIR CO: If you name Wine, you make me throw up my Soul; I have abhor’d Wine ever since I was in France, and saw that barbarous Education they gave that generous Creature. Duce take me, Sir, if the Clowns don’t press all the Grapes with their filthy naked Feet. Oh! Beastly, nasty Dogs! [Sir Courtly…, Act III, p. 48]

Surly’s language, too, is far removed from that of Sir Courtly: SURLY: SIR CO:

There’s an abominable Fop makes love to her, and, I am told, Is to marry her; prithee tell him, he’s a Son of a Whore. Really, Sir, I’m unfortunate; I ha’ no manner o’ Genious to that sort o’ Conversation. [Sir Courtly…, Act III, p. 49]

SIR CO: Well, Sir, I shall kiss your Hands. SURLY: Kiss my Breech…

[Sir Courtly…, Act IV, p. 77]

The boorish behaviour and scruffiness of this character recall, at least in part, the rufián of the Spanish entremés who likewise always wore a sword and dagger. Another typical character common in Restoration theatre, this time female, must also be mentioned. This is the Aunt, or the lady encharged with protecting the honour of her niece, and defined by Crowne in his dramatis personæ as “Leonora’s governess, an old, amorous, envious Maid”. There are various comic aspects to this character: first, her inability to fulfil her task, that is, to look after a niece who is continually evading her vigilance, and second, her naivety, and a certain lack of a sense of the ridiculous that allows her to think that it is not her niece that Sir Courtly is interested in, but her. She thus has no qualms at proposing the following to the gentleman: AUNT: ‘Tis very hard to resist you, Sir Courtly. If you please I will first put on a Disguise, for I desire it may be manag’d with all Secrecy till the Ceremony of Marriage be over. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act V, p. 97]

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Evidently, Aunt is going to defend her virtue to the utmost until the hypothetical moment of marriage. Her purity is beyond doubt: she is proud of being one of at least fourteen unmarried sisters, and that she has never received a love letter in her life; this provokes humorous asides from her niece and the comments of Violante, who cannot help exclaim: “What ridiculous Piece of Antiquity is this? Thy brother has a great Honour for his Family, since he will keep such a Relick of his Ancestors as this” (p. 23). Finally, and although it is not included in this translation but in An Evening’s Love, the character of Aurelia must not be forgotten. While initially she corresponds to the Spanish Doña Violante, her behaviour is radically different and she adopts the manners of a female fop (a type of woman found in many works of the early years of the Restoration). Her coquetry and her senseless comments, her affected manners and her admiration for all things French contrast with the austere nature of her Spanish counterpart, and she would seem, therefore, to be essentially Dryden’s personal creation. Her physical description is given by Camilla, who ironically praises the beauty of her mistress: CAM: If I had been a Man, I could never have forsaken you: Ah those languishing Casts, Mam; and that pouting Lip of your Laship, like a Cherry-bough weigh’d down with the weight of Fruit. [An Evening’s Love, Act V, p. 366]

A mixture of vanity and simplicity means that, like Sir Courtly, she is unaware that she is being made fun of. This naïvety is made even more obvious when she visits the astrologer, who she considers a true fortune-teller after his incredible revelations: BELL: La you there, you see I knew it: nay, I’ll tell you more, ‘tis a Man you love. AUR: O prodigious Science! I confess I love a Man most furiously. [An Evening’s Love, Act III, p. 328]

Without realising, she gives the fraud Bellamy the information she hopes to hear from the false astrologer, given his powers as a seer. In addition, as we have briefly mentioned before, his peculiar way of speaking, so affected that it includes words of his own invention10, is also a source of laughter: AUR: But Sir, I am not so ill a Geographer, or to speak more properly, a Corographer, as not to know there is a Passage by Land from hence to Flanders. [An Evening’s Love, Act III p. 325]

The presence in this work, and in Crowne’s translation, of characters who have no parallel in the original, has two explanations: the first, a desire to domesticate the 10. The use of comic neologisms will be treated later, in the section dealing with textual comicity.



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

comedy and adapt it to the taste of the period (it should be borne in mind that Sir Courtly… was first performed in 1685, a time when things Spanish were no longer so in fashion), and second — the reason that concerns us here — these characters are an additional comic element: the exuberance of Sir Courtly, the vulgarity of Surly and the pretentious naïvety of Aunt contribute a genuinely English humour that must have helped ensure the success of the performance. 6.1.1.8 Props Props may also be employed to provoke laughter. In the source texts, the number of objects, ridiculous or not, is very varied and almost impossible to systematise: from the bench that serves as a horse in El astrólogo... to the rosary that Tarugo, fearing for his life, uses in No siempre…, as well as the different kinds of arms and the ways the gentlemen use them in all the Spanish comedies studied here. Of special interest among all these are the ones to do with regional and national customs, and the love tokens. There is a clear example of the first in the eleventh scene of the second jornada of No siempre…: Tarugo, pretending to be a tailor, puts on a pair of pince-nez to avoid being recognised by Don Pedro, arousing his suspicions: PEDRO: TARUG: PEDRO: TARUG: PEDRO:

¿Antojos trae? ¿Por qué no? No los vi en sastre jamás. Si el sastre es corto de vista y ve bien por su cristal ¿Por qué no se ha de poner antojos? Es gravedad a que el sastre no se atreve.

[No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 193]

Crowne translates this passage and justifies the fact that Crack needs glasses with the ridiculous intention of making the droll appear older than he is, which also makes Lord Bellguard suspicious:

BELL: CRA: BELL: CRA:

How comes such a young Fellow to wear Spectacles? Young, my Lord? I’m above five and fifty. Thou bear’st thy Age well. Ay, every where but in my Eyes, I thank Heaven. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act II, p. 41]

Another interesting example is the use Dryden makes of an object, a table, in Evening’s Love. In the Spanish text, Violante mistakes Don Juan for a ghost and, terrified, flees to hide behind a door. The English translator determines to get more

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

out of this absurd situation, and places the maid under a table which she will later knock over — lamps and all — as she tries to flee the room: VIOL: Cerrada en este aposento estaré, hasta que te vayas. [Éntrase, y cierra la puerta] [El astrólogo..., Jornada II, p. 253]

CAM: I’ll save myself [Runs under the Table] […] [She rises up, overthrows the Table and Lights, and runs out] [An Evening’s Love, Act IV, p. 349]

This scene is the result of a note written by Violante, at the prompting of the astrologer, in which she requests a visit from Don Juan. This piece of paper will also be used to comic effect by the author and the translator, although with variations: [Échanle un papel] MASK: I stay’d here, Sir, by express Order JUAN: ¿Mas qué es esto? ¿No es papel from the Lady Aurelia, to deliver you this el que está en el suelo? Sí: Note; and to desire you from her to meet her ¿Quién pudo traerlo aquí? immediately in the Garden. Veré lo que dice en él. MEL: Do you hear, my Friend! [El astrólogo..., Jornada II, p. 251] MASK: Not a Syllable more, Sir, I have perform’d my Orders. [An Evening’s..., Act IV, p. 342]

In the Spanish work the humour is caused by the unexpected appearance of this paper, which the droll throws onto the stage and which is discovered, accidentally, by Don Juan. In the English version, the gentleman is handed the note, but the comicity resides in the seriousness of Maskall’s communication, which is very different from his usual register. As for the love tokens, there is a clear comic example in No siempre… and its translations. Tarugo, after entering another’s house disguised as a tailor, covertly hands Doña Inés a portrait of her loved one, and the lady is unable to conceal her surprise (Jornada I, p. 193). However, both Sydserf and Crowne make much more use of this prop, and in both cases a note informs us that the young woman “kisses the picture” (pp. 45 y 41, respectively). Crowne exaggerates the situation even further: the droll, his mission fulfilled, goes up to Farewel and describes to him his loved one’s reaction on receiving the portrait: “She kissed it sweetly, wantonly, lascivously” (p. 43). Although it is likely that Leonora would not have reacted in such an extreme manner, and all was an exaggeration in character with the personality of the droll, the episode thus acquires a humorous content that surpasses that expressed in the Spanish text.



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

There are other similar situations in which objects are exchanged between lovers. In El astrólogo..., María gives Don Juan a jewel as a token of her love and in An Evening’s…, Theodosia does likewise with Don Alonzo: JUAN: Señora, THEO: […] While you are constant, dame esa cinta pendiente shall never be to any but yourself: in de tu cuello, porque afrenta witness of which, accept this Diamond al iris que el Cielo adora. as a pledge of my Heart’s Firmness to you. [Dale una joya] [An Evening’s Love, Act IV, p. 250] MAR: La joya darte imagino. JUAN: La cinta pido no más. [El astrólogo..., Jornada III, p. 253]

The purpose of the exchange is identical in both cases: María/Theodosia will pretend to have lost the jewel to avoid her father’s anger when he discovers it is missing. But the ladies do not foresee Leonardo/Don Alonzo requesting the services of an astrologer to discover its whereabouts, and this gives rise to a series of humorous situations throughout the rest of the play. Dryden also includes in his translation another exchange of tokens, on this occasion between the servants: as Jacintha and Wildblood decide to put an end to their courtship, their respective servants, Maskall and Beatrix, do the same as is only befitting in such cases; they then begin to return all the presents they have given each other, some of them highly unusual: MASK: BEA: MASK: CRA:

Beatrix, follow your leader; here’s the sixpenny White you gave me, with the Mutton Hast: I can spare it, for Knives are of little use in Spain. There’s your Cissars with the stinking Brass Chain to ‘em: ‘Tis well there was no Love betwixt us; for they had been too dull to cut it. There’s the Dandriff Comb you lent me. There’s your ferret Ribbanding for Garters. [An Evening’s Love, Act IV, p. 363]

Another similar case in the same work is the serenade scene, already referred to, in which Wildblood gets some musicians to entertain Theodosia and Jacintha (who are on the balcony) with a song: [Theodosia and Jacintha above. Jacintha throws down her Handkerchief with a Favour ty’d to it] JAC: Musicians must be rewarded: There, Cavalier. ‘Tis to buy your Silence. [An Evening’s Love, Act II, p. 321]

The translator achieves the desired humorous effect using objects, but in a situation of his own devising (silencing the musicians with money), just as Crowne, for example does in his translation of No puede ser…. Here, the vain Sir Courtly misses no opportunity to contemplate his own face, for example reflected in a mirror:

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

SIR CO: LEO:

We shall be infinitely fond… a pretty Glass this, Madam. [Looks in a Glass] So, he’s making an Assignation with his own foolish Face, I’ll leave him to court that and steal away. […] [Sir Courtly looks into the Glass while he speaks] [Sir Courtly Nice, Act V, p. 95]

While the translators are quite ready to introduce new objects into the action, there is a lack of allusions to those commonly used for comic effect in Restoration theatre. Such is the case with the tobacco pouch, which was flourished while speaking and could emphasise a character’s style and aplomb when the contents were inhaled, and even cause a sneeze. There is just one such allusion in Tarugo’s Wiles, which appears, in part, in the source text. In this case, however, Tarugo’s accessories are not used with comic intent: TAR: Sino es que ayer en la iglesia TAR: Yesterday coming from a little Chapel, del Carmen se me cayese not far from this place, in where when pulling porque allí una tabaquera out my Handkerchief, I dropped my Sneezing que se me había perdido, box, which was suddenly restor’d... me volvieron a la puerta. [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act IV, p. 35] [No puede ser…, Jornada II, p. 198]

Other frequently recurring objects are combs, with which the gentlemen smoothed their wigs, chairs on which the ladies were incapable of sitting because of the fullness of their skirts, and the notes that women kept in their cleavage. These last two gestures were very popular on the English stage at this time, but are absent from our translations. Aunt, however, does allude to the possibility that her niece is concealing something between her breasts: AUNT: I dare not examine her Breasts, if there shou’d be any thing in ‘em I should die. LEO: In my breasts? [Sir Courtly Nice, Act III, p. 53]

It is difficult to determine whether these omissions were deliberate on the part of the translator, who wished to remain faithful to the objects used in the original text, or whether he did not include them because their use would be taken for granted in this type of performance. The same may be said of fans and masks, of which much could be made if the right gesture was employed, especially in the case of the fans, in part due to their association with prostitution11. Masks were 11. Prostitutes used to attend the theatre carrying fans to identify themselves, hence the actors’ references to these accessories to elicit the complicity of the audience (Styan 1986: 114).



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

very useful for cheating, especially as the audience knew from the start which actor was masked and which was being tricked, heightening the humour of the scene. 6.1.1.9 Music and song Although music was common in Spanish Golden Age drama, we have seen that there is no reference in the source texts to songs or popular tunes. The English texts, however, do include songs and dances in their dialogues, although on occasions it is not easy to discern their comic use as the lyrics of most of them do not have a specific purpose, and are not at first sight intended to be interpreted in a grotesque fashion. There are, however, some examples in which a humorous use of the compositions may be inferred, such as the musicians in An Evening’s Love, invited by Wildblood to entertain Theodosia and Jacintha. Although the lyrics themselves have no comic content, it is to be supposed that the performance of the musicians left much to be desired, as otherwise it is hard to explain why Jacintha gives them money to go away (Act II, p. 321). Something similar occurs in the fifth act when Wildblood and Jacintha perform a duet in which they compete to see which the better singer is. It may be deduced from Bellamy’s comment that they are out of tune: “And you make no better Harmony after you are married than you have before, you are the miserablest Couple in Christendom” (p. 381). In other cases the humour does not reside in the words or the music, but rather in the situation into which the song is inserted; for example, Crowne dedicates a song to Sir Courtly on the ephemeral nature of love. There is nothing special in the words, but the situation — Sir Courtly seated and getting ready to visit Leonora, surrounded, we imagine, by perfumes, cosmetics and other accessories — is what makes it amusing. On other occasions, though, Crowne would use songs in a much more direct manner to provoke the audience’s laughter, as in the following composition by Sir Courtly, dedicated to his beloved Leonora: SIR CO.: LEO.: SIR CO.:

Your cruel Eye Lay watching by To snap my Heart Which you did wi’ such Art; Then away wi’t you ran, Whilst I looked onTo my Ruin and Grief; Stop Thief –stop Thief. Oh! Fine! Oh! Fine! That stop Thief, Madam, is pretty novel

[Sir Courtly Nice, Act V, p. 93]

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

The ridiculous tone of this song recalls the poem recited by Don Pedro in the academy in Moreto’s text (see above) and which, coincidentally, was also praised, humorously, by a woman, Doña Ana Pacheco. Also, in the English text Leonora imitates the way her lover sings, unable to stop laughing and so ridiculing even more his musical talent: “Away… the Song again… the Song… I’ll hear nothing but the Song” (p. 93). The second example is a composition that is intended to imitate a song performed by native Indians. The comedy arises in part from the fact that the words are incomprehensible, and this, accompanied by gestures or an appropriate dance, makes for a comical scene. The first stanza goes as follows:

Thou lovely Indian Sea of Charms, I’d envy no jaw-waw alive Might I be so blessed to dive Into thy soft and yielding Arms. With a Jimminy, Gommony, whee, whee, whee. With a Gomminy, Jimminy-whee.

It is obviously impossible to analyse the vocalisation, although the disproportional relationship between the character and his musical performance, or the lack of harmony, may have had a grotesque purpose. In the translated texts there are cases where it is the music, and not the lyrics, that is used for humorous effect: in the second act of Tarugo’s Wiles, Alberto prepares to sing accompanied by other characters, and by a mandril which dances to the rhythm of the music (p. 14). Although scarce, there are other cases in which music has a similar function. We saw in point 6.1.1.1. how Jacintha, trying to hit her note, is mocked by Wildblood, who encourages her to go on: “Do your Worst” (p. 379). Crack (Sir Courtly Nice), for his part, tries to raise the alarm with a trumpet, though to no effect: CRACK: Now found a Trumpet, Tivy-tivy –tan tan Tivy –Tone –Pox on’t, ‘tis a Horn –I don’t know a Horn. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act IV, p. 79]

Later, when the droll fails to trick Leonora’s brother and she finally leaves the house to meet her lover, the lady cannot conceal her joy, singing and dancing: “Ha! Ha! toll-loll-detrol” (Act V, p. 91). Closely related with song is the gesture of dance, of which Charles II was very fond. His interest led to a profusion of dance masters all over London, and dance was soon present on the Restoration stage, not only on account of its visual appeal but also because of its comic potential. In the third act of An Evening’s Love, a group of ladies, Jacintha among them, is dancing, and Wildblood com-



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

pliments Jacintha at the end of the dance, in words of whose sincerity the audience must be the judge: WILDBLOOD:

While you have been singing, Lady, I have been praying: I mean, that your Face and Wit may not prove equal to your Dancing; for, if they be, there’s a Heart gone astray. [An Evening’s Love, Act III, p. 335]

6.1.1.10 Lighting In this section, it is important to distinguish once again, with respect to the Spanish stage, between the theatre of the play yards and that of the Court, as while the first was subject to the hours of daylight, courtly theatre was characterised by the use of artificial light. Most of the comic effects in Spanish theatre occur in the hours of darkness, but artificial illumination was not necessary; a conventional acceptance that the action was taking place in the dark was enough. It was therefore perfectly feasible to transfer these scenes to the London stage: CES: Qué obscura está la noche, ANT: How dark ‘tis grown o’the sudden, aunque ha tan poco que reinan there’s not one Star appears in all the las sombras. Firmament. [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 116] [The Adventures…, Act III, p. 80] JUAN: Siendo ya el anochecer JUL: What, oh! No lights below stairs? ¿no hay luces en casa? [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 454] [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 100]

In the second example, the arrival of the master precipitates the flight of the beau and his servant, with the resulting dashes, collisions and confusion. The translators, of course, make the most of the humorous possibilities offered by scenes that take place without light. To create the illusion of shadows, candles might be used as props, or word and gesture would suffice; In No siempre… the fight between Don Carlos and Don Diego ends when the maid Inés, on her mistress’s instructions, puts out the lights and causes all the characters to withdraw, to the humorous comments of the droll. The English scene is similar, although it is the male counterpart to the maid who puts out the lights:

GINÉS: Aquí son las cuchilladas; entrad todos. TODOS: ¿Qué es esto? BEAT: Inés, esas luces mata, por si podemos así escuchar desdichas tantas. [Apaga Inés la luz y riñen]

[Chichón running out from the place where he lurk’d, strikes out both the lights with his hat] CHI: I have lov’d to see the fighting; but at present, I love to hinder seeing how to fight. Knights, brandish your blades, ‘t will make

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

[…] fine among the gallipots! GINÉS: Señor, ¿dónde estás, que ya [Elvira, or…, Act IV, p. 469] el cirujano te aguarda? [No siempre…, Jornada II, p. 143]

Furthermore, darkness is the best excuse for mistaken identity. This is a device of which Los empeños... and its translation offer the best examples, as the greater part of the plot derives from a confusion that gives rise to numerous comical situations. Such is the case when Porcia, on account of the dark, does not realise that she has returned to the same house from which she originally wanted to escape: NIS: ¡Ay suceso más extraño! CAM: Prodigious Accident! But were you ¿Pues como no siendo ciega, blind not to know thine own House, conociste la casa? unhappy Porcia? POR: Como pude conocerla, POR: Alas! How could I? in so dark a Night, de noche, perdiendo el tino, in such confusion, and so full of fear? y no aviendo en la escalera. [The Adventures…, Act IV, p. 112] ni el portal luz alguna? [Los empeños..., Jornada III, p. 128]

Night is the best time to avoid discovery in clandestine romantic meetings: OCT: Salgamos, que es hora ya OCT: Come Diego, ‘tis now Time to quit our de casa, Quatrín. Dens, and to begin our Chase. QUAT: Salgamos, DIE: Of what, Sir? Bats, or Owls now the Sun’s que murciélagos seamos Set. Call you this Making of Love? siempre cuando el Sol se va. [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 111] [The Adventures…, Act II, p. 67]

And, of course, the best time to get into the house of the lady, though with the risk that the lack of light might lead the daring gentleman to mistake the maid for his beloved: MAN: Ya ellos se han ido; Señor don Félix, salid. FEL: A poner el albedrío a vuestras plantas, Señora. MAN: Mirad que erráis el estilo; que yo no soy doña Inés. [No puede ser…, Jornada II, p. 200]

LOC: They are gone, Horatio, you may come out. HOR: Yes, Madam, to prostrate myself at your feet. LOC: You’re mistaken, I’m not Liviana. HOR: Who then? [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act IV, p. 38]

The characters in An Evening’s Love also use the absence of light for their amorous encounters. Maskall decides to wait until night time to hand a note to Don Melchior and so avoid being recognised: “’Tis but counterfeiting my Voice a little; for he cannot know me in the dark” (Act III, p. 331). Darkness is essential in the final



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

scene, which opens with some figures entering a house when the moonlight plays tricks on them: DON LOPEZ: [… ] and we confusedly saw by Moon light some Persons entering. But who they were we don’t know. . [An Evening’s Love, Act V, p. 369]

From this moment, the confusion gives rise to a succession of amusing situations. Both examples are personal creations of Dryden, as Calderón nowhere indicates that these actions take place in night scenes. The examples given show that the lack of light for humorous situations was well received by the translators. The way in which the characters move in darkness, groping their way or crouching, is also comical, and as we have seen in the section on gestural comedy it is indicated in some of the translations, almost always in the form of stage directions. 6.1.1.11 Rupture of the stage illusion Siglo de Oro dramatists liked to make the fictionality of their works evident, usually through one of the characters addressing the audience, confessing it outright, or reflecting ironically or in parody on the techniques of dramatic development (Arellano 1999: 307–308). Thus, when a character, usually a droll, puts into practice a dramatic device that recurs in all the comedies, he not only causes laughter but also, on occasions, saves it, through humour, from criticism. Almost at the end of Los empeños..., Quatrín says: QUATRÍN:

Lleve el diablo quien se holgare porque es forzoso que luego a mí contigo me casen por costumbre inmemorial del lacayo, porque acabe como comedia de enredo.

[Los empeños..., Jornada III, p. 133]

He is referring, of course, to the maid Flora, as once their master and mistress have decided to marry, it would be expected in the genre that their servants would follow suit, which is what happens in Tuke’s translation; Flora and Diego, once Porcia and Octavio take each other by the hand, come forward on the stage and address the following words to the audience: FLORA: Had e’er Disorders such a rare come-off? Methinks t’would make a fine Plot for a Play.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

DIEGO: Faith Flora, I should have the worst of that; for by the Laws of Comedy, it would be my lot to marry you. [The Adventures…, Act V, p. 141]

The words of Diego and Flora have a two-fold humorous intent: Flora’s surprise at the outcome of the work and Diegos’ dismay at finding himself having to marry her in accordance with the dictates of the genre. This outcome is no surprise for the spectators, as it is what they expect from a comedy. Other translators, however, chose not to reflect these allusions to stage fiction. In No siempre… the maid Inés, surprised at her mistress’s furious reaction on reading the note confirming the “infidelities” of her loved one, comments in an aside: INÉS:

A leer vuelve. ¿De qué nace ya el agrado y ya el furor? Sin duda que es borrador de alguna comedia que hace.

[No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 85]

This allusion is omitted by Digby, and Dryden does the same in two of the references in El astrólogo...: in the first, Beatriz does not understand why her mistress shows interest in the poorest of her suitors, and argues: BEAT:

Querer al de menos fama, hazienda y nobleza, Dama de Comedias me pareces; que toda mi vida vi en ellas aborrecido al rico, y favorecido al pobre, donde advertí su notable impropiedad: pues si las comedias son una viva imitación, que retrata la verdad de lo mismo que sucede: a un pobre verle estimar. ¿Cómo se puede imitar, si ya suceder no puede?.

[El astrólogo..., Jornada I, pp. 226–7]

Later, Morón evidences his scepticism that his masters love intrigues will get anywhere, and asks him: MORÓN: ¿Piensas que Comedia es que en ella de cualquier modo



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 



que se piense, sale todo?

[El astrólogo..., Jornada II, p. 251]

Calderón gives a nod to his audience, and makes fun of comedy while using it as his means of expression. At the same time he plays with the notion that the corrales are the ideal place to spread the false rumour of the existence of an astrologer in Madrid, something that would be perfectly well understood by the English public, as Dryden translates the passage: ANT: Salí de allí, y entreme en los WILD: From hence I went to the latter Corrales de Comedias, donde End of a Comedy, and there whisper’d la más oculta cosa no se esconde. it to the next Man I knew, who had a [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 247] woman by him. [An Evening’s…, Act III, p. 324]

Moreto humorously mixes fiction and reality in the following passage, omitted by the translators: D. FÉLIX: TARUGO:

No sea, Tarugo, que agora yerres la traza. ¿Agora la había de errar a la tercera jornada para que a silbos me abriesen?

[No puede ser…, Jornada III, p. 206]

At other times, although he does not strictly rupture the dramatic illusion, the Spanish author uses the argument to refer to the condition of the poet in society, using the droll for this purpose: TARUGO: Señor, cosa es muy posible ser rica, bella y discreta; pero ser rica y poeta, vive Dios, que es imposible.

[No puede ser…, Jornada I, p. 187]

Crowne, in his translation of Moreto, makes a similar allusion to the work of the playwright, which he ironically describes as mechanical in the words of Sir Courtly: SERVANT: Does your honour write any Plays? SIR CO.: No, that’s Mechanick; I bestow some Garniture on Plays, as a Song or Prologue. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act III, p. 45]

He further seeks the complicity of the audience by insinuating that Leonora is not particularly fond of the comic genre, when it is precisely she who is at the centre of the humorous plot. He criticises comedy as a genre thus:

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

SIR CO.:

[…] drove by your Windows a thousand times a Day; fought you at the Parks and the Plays, was a constant faithful attendant at all Tragedies for I presum’d your Ladyship nauseates all Comedies. […] They are so ill-bred –and sawcy with Quality, and always cram’d with our odious Sex –that have not always the most inviting smell –Madam, you’ll pardon me –Now at Tragedies the House is all lin’d with Beauty, and the Gentleman may endure it. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act V, p. 92]

Moreto might also have been looking for comic effect when he made the start of the third jornada coincide with the actual time of performance, one hour up to this moment; again, this allusion is not reproduced in the target language: DON FÉLIX: TARUGO:

Ocho días ha que aquí, estoy, Tarugo, escondido, y un hora me ha parecido. Y cuarenta años a mí.

[No puede ser…, Jornada III, p. 204]

It seems, therefore, that rupture of dramatic illusion for humorous effect was a device preferred more by the Spanish playwrights than the translators, as there is only one case in which it has been translated into English. Even so, there are some examples in the English texts where, though the procedure is not identical, the genre is referred to in a humorous tone. This eleven-point survey of the translation of the stage comicity present in the four Spanish comedies studied leads us to conclude that the translators showed great interest in this type of comicity, although they did not always stick to the original text. In some cases there is a strict coincidence between the source and target texts in certain aspects, such as the use of stage space, proxemics, nocturnal scenes or — grosso modo — the use of the droll. In other cases, the devices used in the original text are partially adapted: for some parts there is no English equivalent, others are included at different moments of the action, and finally quite a few appear in the target text that were not present in the source comedy. This occurs with the paralinguistic elements, gestures and the use of clothing, hairdos and accessories. There are far more examples of the use of these devices in the translated texts, which reveals the translator’s special interest in exploiting all of them and making them clear in the target play. To conclude, the translators also make use of another series of devices, such as songs, music or the introduction of certain ridiculous characters typical of the theatre culture of the destination country.



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

6.1.2 Textual comicity We have seen how the semiotic elements that form part of the dramatic work may be used in comedy for the creation of humour. But, apart from dealing with the comedy of situation, the study of translation must also analyse humour based on linguistic elements, such as plays on words, comic neologisms, witty ripostes, double meanings and asides, not forgetting the humorous content of certain titles, proper nouns, sayings and set phrases... These aspects have been partially treated (although not from the point of view of humour) and are now grouped together in this section under the sub-heading “Miscellaneous”. 6.1.2.1 Wordplay Wordplay establishes new and unexpected semantic relationships through the contrast of linguistic structures that draw different meanings from similar or identical significants. Delia Chiaro (1992:  2) understands wordplay in a very broad sense, as “every conceivable way in which language is used with the intent to amuse”, while Dirk Delabastita, one of the scholars who have most deeply analysed the translation of wordplay, offers the following definition: Wordplay is the general name for the various textual phenomena in which structural features of the language(s) used are exploited in order to bring about a communicatively significant confrontation of two (or more) linguistic structures with more or less similar forms and more or less different meanings. (Delabastita 1996: 128)

However the overall mechanism of wordplay goes beyond the linguistic component, as something that is humorous in one culture may not be so amusing in a different one; it is therefore important that the target audience should share the sociocultural knowledge implicit in the wordplay if this is not to prove a failure in the recipient culture. As Delia Chiaro observes, “without a shared sociocultural knowledge between sender and recipient, a common linguistic code will be of little help” (1992: 77). This may be one of the reasons that some scholars and translators have argued that wordplay is untranslatable, an opinion not shared by Chiaro, who attributes it to an often over-conservative attitude on the part of the translators: It would appear that translators are often afraid of moving away from the text and replacing an untranslatable joke with another one which would work in the target language, even if it is completely different from the original. (Chiaro 1992: 85)

It would seem, however, that the controversy over the translatability or otherwise of wordplay may now have been overcome. This emerges from a series of studies collected by Delabastita (Wordplay and Translation, 1996), in which various

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

scholars give answers and solutions to the difficult task of exporting wordplay to a different language and culture. This difficulty seems also to have affected the translators of the Restoration, who in most cases opted for the suppression of wordplay, not only because of the complexity of such translation in itself but because this is accentuated in the theatre, a genre that does not admit explanatory footnotes and so limits the number of possible translation strategies. In addition, the translators under study here, apart from the obvious linguistic restrictions within which they worked, were faced with sociocultural limitations difficult to overcome, making omission of the play on words an attractive solution. It is important to point out, however, that these suppressions are not always easy to explain, as they may be due to more subjective reasons such as the personal preferences of the translator, as exemplified here by Calderón: BEATRIZ: LEONORA: INÉS:

¿De qué servía? De doncella de labor. [Aparte] Eso sí, que fuera error, esa otra doncellería.

[No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 89]

In this example, which is omitted in the target text, Calderón uses two words, doncella and doncellería. Sharing the same lexical root, they are easy to relate, though each with a different semantic nuance: while doncella is here a synonym of servant or maid, doncellería refers to the condition of a woman who has not had sexual relations with a man. Furthermore, the fact that the second part of the wordplay is given in an aside increases its humorous effect. Although there exists a similar correspondence in English between “maid” and “maidenhood”, the translator has chosen to omit the wordplay. According to Delabastita (1996: 128) the above play on words is of the “horizontal” type, as it is produced by the syntagmic contrast of two forms (doncella and doncellería); it is thus different from what he terms the “vertical” type, in which “the two formally similar linguistic structures […] clash associatively by being copresent in the same portion of text” (ibid.): INÉS: GINÉS: INÉS:

¿Hablaba usted, caballero, con el bolsillo o conmigo? Con quien quisieres que sea, mas ponle a mi parte nombre. Quita, que no hablo yo a hombre que sé de qué pie cojea.

[No siempre…, Jornada II, p. 132]



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

In this example, taken from the same comedy, two meanings converge in the same sentence: “sé de qué pie cojea”. Here Inés plays with the figurative sense of the expression (“to know someone’s vices or defects”), and the more literal one (“to limp”), explained by the injury Ginés suffered to his foot as a consequence of his fall the night before. Here too Digby preferred to omit the play on words in Elvira, or…. This distinction between “horizontal” and “vertical” is one of many perspectives that may be adopted for the classification of plays on words and for the methods employed for their translation. Delabastita details a whole series of devices, running from total omission to the difficult task of finding one similar or identical to the original. All these are collected in a typology of translation mechanisms for wordplay consisting of eight basic strategies (1996: 134): Pun → Pun; Pun → Nonpun; Pun → Related rhetorical device; Pun → Zero; Pun ST = pun TT; Non pun → Pun; Zero → Pun; and Editorial techniques12. In this way, Delabastita returned to the classification he had formulated some years earlier (1987) publishing it here with only slight modifications. Other scholars have also made contributions, among them that of Delia Chiaro (1992), mentioned above, opting for a broad classification that includes plays on sounds and accents, palindromes and the use of homonymy, polysemy and word formation for humorous effect, without neglecting the possibilities of syntax and the norms of conversation. Harvey (1995: 79–82) makes a much simpler proposition, limited to three degrees of correspondence between source and target wordplay: direct (a play on words is translated by another of the same type), analogical (wordplay is replaced in the destination text by a phono-aesthetic device such as alliteration), and so-called non-correspondence, in which the play on words disappears completely and is replaced by another linguistic device. In our discussion of the ways in which wordplay in the Spanish comedies under study here are transferred to English we shall not employ the division proposed by Harvey, as it does not include wordplay that is the creation of the translator and therefore does not have a parallel in the source text. Nor shall we use the exhaustive classification proposed by Chiaro, in part inspired by Delabastita, as the number of plays on words in our source texts is limited and not excessively heterogeneous, making a meticulous division of wordplay by strategies inappropriate. For example, Delia Chiaro includes word formation and palindromes in her classification, which we shall study in the section of this chapter devoted to comic neologisms. As for Delabastita’s proposal, four of the strategies he lists were not chosen by our translators: Pun → Non-pun; Pun → Related rhetorical device; Pun ST → pun TT 12. For a more detailed analysis of this typology, see the study of this Belgian author (1996) and the section that Mateo (1995b: 39–51) devotes to the translation of wordplay, illustrated in this case with examples from various English comedies and their Spanish translations.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

and Editorial techniques. In the first of these, the term on which the wordplay is based is translated into the target language in only one of its meanings, and the wordplay thus disappears; the second, Pun → Related rhetorical device, consists in replacing the original wordplay by some other device (repetition, alliteration, irony, paradox etc.) that conserves its essence, a correspondence that Harvey refers to as “ analogical”; the third inserts in the target text (TT) the wordplay as it appears in the source text (ST), that is, untranslated, and the fourth and last of the strategies refers to notes at the end of the text or page, intended to clarify a specific problem of translation. The fact that none of the translators has opted for any of these four mechanisms is justified at least in the last two cases: it would be practically impossible for the English audience to understand Spanish wordplay, while explanatory notes would serve no purpose in translations intended for performance. The translators prefer mechanisms that allow greater creative freedom, hence the predominance of omissions and autonomous creation, although there are some cases in which the original play on words is transferred to the target language. We shall therefore organise our examples according to these three global strategies: omission, autonomous creation and substitution, beginning with this last group. The strategy by which a play on words (horizontal or vertical) is found in the target language which is appropriate to translate that existing in the original text (labelled by Delabastita Pun → Pun) is not the most widely used in the comedias, perhaps because it is the most complex; on occasions, however, the effect achieved is almost identical to that sought in the original: DIEGO: Di tú, Ginés ZAN: Ah, let Chichon but tell you how he la fineza que en mí viste. hath seen me during my absence from you. GINÉS: Tanta fineza vi en él CHI: I vow I have seen him even dead for love. que le vi muerto de amor. [Elvira, or…, Act II, p. 454] [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 98]

By “muerto de amor”, Ginés/Chichon not only refers to the feelings of his mistress Beatriz/Blanca, but also to the fact that he almost lost his life on being discovered in the house of Leonor/Elvira. There is a similar example in No siempre… and in its translation. With slight variations from the previous case, the original play on words is replaced by one which shares its formal and semantic characteristics:

DIEGO: Por mí has de ir allá. ZANCHO: Pr’thee, Chichon, GINÉS: Yo iré, Ha’ done, and miss not the opportunity. pero por partido tomo [...] traerte mal despacho. CHICHON: Come, I’ll hobble to her: DIEGO: ¿Cómo? Expect a sorry account, but yet a true one;



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

GINÉS: Como voy con muy mal pie… truth always comes by the lame messenger. [No siempre…, Jornada II, pp. 128–9] [Elvira, or…, Act III, p. 461]

Like Inés earlier the droll uses his lameness to excuse himself in advance if he does not carry out his master’s errand with due diligence, since he starts out “con muy mal pie”. Digby manages to form a play on words that, while different from that of Calderón, fulfils a similar function: he uses the double meaning of lame in a context identical to the Spanish one. There is another similar example in the same work, again with the droll: DIEGO: En efecto, ZAN: I must confess, Chichon, the very smell gran gusto es volver un hombre of sweet Valencia has even reviv’d my spirits. a ver la patria, Ginés. There is no such pleasure, as to suck and GINÉS: Y más, cuando ha estado tan breathe one’s native air. a pique de no volver. CHICH.: Chiefly after being in so fair a way [No siempre…, Jornada I, pp. 93–4] as you, of never breathing any more. [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 451]

Ginés refers again to the injuries sustained by Don Diego, and plays ironically with the words ver and volver; Chichon does the same with “breathe”, giving the verb a different meaning from that intended by Don Zancho. Comparison of these two examples (the only ones found that include this strategy) shows that only Digby employs substitution of the original wordplay by another in the target language as the method of translation. On occasions, as in the first example, it is easy to find an English equivalent to the Spanish pun; in other cases, as in the remaining two examples, the result depends on the skill of the translator, who seeks greater naturalisation. As we have anticipated, however, what most frequently happens is that the wordplay and the text in which it is inserted is completely omitted, a strategy that Delabastita defines as Pun → Zero. This is still more common when the translator is faced with phonetic puns, given the differences in this respect between Spanish and English: INÉS: GINÉS: INÉS: GINÉS:

Saldréis cuando ya esté recogido por ese balcón. ¿Bal…qué? Balcón. Por no saltar yo, aún no danzo el saltarén Inés, disponlo de suerte, que yo salga por mi pie si es posible.

[No puede ser…, Jornada I, p. 103]

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Calderón plays on the contrast between...qué and -cón, and with saltar and saltarén, the latter referring to “cierto son o aire de guitarra, que se tocaba para bailar” (DRAE). Complete omission is also the technique of choice in the case of set phrases that can be used to comic effect: BEATRIZ: Inés, la suerte está echada. INÉS: Y echada a perder, señora.

[No siempre…, Jornada II, p. 137]

It is also, of course, used when terms with multiple meanings are employed, for which there is no easy correspondence in English, as happens with comadre in the following example: FLORA: Ya salió el parto derecho. QUATRÍN: Es Nise linda comadre.

[Los empeños..., Jornada III, p. 136]

Flora is happy that the many misunderstandings that have occurred throughout the action have finally been cleared up thanks to the intervention of Nise, who is thus referred to by Quatrín as the “linda comadre” of this metaphorical birth. However, comadre also means gossip, and so Quatrín may well be making fun of the lady. Also omitted is the moment when Tarugo, in No puede ser…, enquires about the whereabouts of Doña Inés to take her to her beloved Don Félix: TARUGO: MANUELA: TARUGO:

Señor mío, y, ¿doña Inés? Ya saldrá. Pues salga, pléguete Cristo; que me cuesta mi sudor el zurcir este cariño.

[No puede ser…, Jornada II, p. 200]

Tarugo uses zurcir with a double meaning: he has been responsible for the union between Doña Inés and Don Félix, and so the verb in its figurative sense of “subtly join one thing with another” (DRAE), is well chosen. It also has the metaphorical meaning of “mentir, añadiendo unas mentiras a otras, para componer en la apariencia alguna especie” (Diccionario de Autoridades), that is, to pile lie on lie, and this meeting came about because the droll played the part of a tailor. Nor should we forget the erotic connotations of zurcir, in the tradition of the Celestina, and which we may assume was also in the mind of Tarugo. Another character, Don Juan (El astrólogo...), also plays with the possibilities of the verb prometer for Leonardo to permit his daughter to marry him. This is omitted by the English translator:



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

LEONARDO: D: JUAN:

Vete cuando quisieres, que el casarte con mi hija no los esperes, don Juan, yo te prometo. ¿A tu hija, Señor? [El astrólogo..., Jornada III, p. 262]

Finally, some of the Spanish plays on words have a cultural content that, as was mentioned at the start of this section, makes it difficult for them to be expressed directly in the target language. In these cases, rather than use other possible strategies such as a play on words based on cultural elements of the target language, our translators have almost always opted for omission, as in the following example: MORÓN: ESCUDERO:

Porque en las tierras de Aspa hace temerario frío; aunque vos en esta vida más veces habéis temido aspa, y fuego, que aspa, y nieve. Mentís, que no soy judío. [El astrólogo..., Jornada III, p. 260]

Morón makes fun of the notorious avarice of the squire Otáñez and ironically combines the toponym “Aspa” with aspa, which in this context refers to the cross that the penitents of the Inquisition carried over a yellow cloak. Morón compares the journey to the cold lands of Aspa with the punishments the Inquisition afflicted on the Jews, hence the response of Otáñez. Despite the numerous omissions of puns occurring in the originals, the translators were well aware of their humorous potential. Hence, they created others that were not in the source text, irrespective of whether the original text into which it is inserted contained a double meaning or not (the strategy that Delabastita labels Non-pun → Pun) or whether, indeed, such a text even existed in the original (Zero → Pun). In Los empeños…, for example, Quatrín is blamed by his master from the outcome of a fight, an accusation from which he defends himself by a simple rhetorical question. His English counterpart gives a longer explanation and introduces sound play: QUA: ¿De qué sirve hacer extremos? DIE: Am I at fault, because I’m not a Cat? [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 123] How could I tell i’ the dark whether that Rascal were a Knight Errant, or a Recreant Knight? [The Adventures…, Act IV, p. 100]

Later, Quatrín makes fun of his master, who is passing himself off as a woman behind a veil:

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

QUA: Bien jarifa dama llevan, mas es un poco vellosa, que es señal de mucha fuerza. [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 125]

she’s something] DIE: A lovely Dame, hey bear; ‘tis true hairy about the Chin, but that, she says, a Sign of Strength: it tickles me to think how like an Ass he’ll look… [The Adventures…, Act IV, p. 109]

Diego intentionally employs “tickle” in both its meanings: the superficial one of “amuse”, but with an underlying allusion to the effect of the supposed lady’s hairy chin. New creations are frequently found in scenes and responses invented by the translator, or in which characters not present in the source text participate: ZANCHO: CHICHON:

Faith, I’ll make you stir your stamps; Think you a lover of my temper likely to sit down by it so? I’m sure I am only fit to sit down by it, since I can hardly stand.

[Elvira, or…, Act V, p. 473]

Chichón’s lameness is used for a pun on “sit down”: Don Zancho employs it in the figurative sense of “accept”, while Chichon interprets it literally. Previously in the same work Blanca made it clear that she would not believe any more of her suitor’s excuses: “I Blanca Rocca am not charta blanca” (p. 467); obviously, the translation of the original anthroponym Beatriz as Blanca made this new creation easier for Digby. The droll and the maid in The Adventures… also make use of wordplay absent in Los empeños...: Flora, after delivering an errand to Don Octavio, leaves hastily, leading Diego to exclaim: “Short and sweet Flora” (p. 77), alluding to the brevity of the delivery and at the same time making fun of the stature of the maid. Later, she asks him how he would react if a knight kidnapped her, and Diego replies: DIEGO: FLORA: DIEGO:

I’d use no other weapon but a Torch; I’d put aside your Veil, show him your face; That, I suppose, would guard us both. Why, do you think ‘twould fright him, Diego? Oh no, ‘twould charm him, Flora. [The Adventures…, Act II, p. 78]

“Charm” here may be interpreted in its positive or negative sense. Homonymy is also used in newly created wordplay in Sir Courtly Nice (“Nothing cou’d scape him and he scap’d everything”, p. 29) and in An Evening’s Love, in this case with “little”:



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

MASKALL: If you will discover nothing of ‘em, let me discourse with you a little. BEATRIX: As little as you please.

[An Evening’s Love, Act I, p. 300]

The fact that the English language is richer in phonetic possibilities facilitates the creation of wordplay based on sound: D. ZANCHO: Were not born with cauls upon our heads, think’st thou, Chichon, to come off twice a row thus rarely, from such dangerous adventures? CHICHON: Rather I think with combs, so oft to venture. [Elvira, or…, Act V, p. 472]

“Cauls” were the membranes covering the heads of new-born babies, believed to bring good luck to those who had them, and Don Zancho is thus congratulating himself on having escaped alive from two fights. But Chichon, sharper and more sarcastic, uses the phonetically similar “combs” for added humour. Sound combinations, too, may be the basis for invented wordplay: “I took the time i’ th’ nick, but she outnick’d me” (Elvira, or…, p. 463); “Farewell Fairy” (An Evening’s…, p. 463); “Son o’ the Sun” (Sir Courtly Nice, p. 30); “Fork me no forks” (Sir Courtly Nice, p. 54); or the following, with neologism included: LEONORA: Oh! Foh! SIR COURT: Foh! SURLY: Foh! What’s this fohing at?

[Sir Courtly Nice, Act IV, p. 75]

In Sir Courtly Nice, there is even a linguistic play with a more than likely sexual connotation that would distance this fragment from the spirit of the original: FAREWEL: Suppose you saw a Man o’ Parts unfortunate? SURLY: Let his Parts look after him. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act II, p. 33]

6.1.2.2 Comic neologisms On occasions, playwrights make use of invented words or expressions that carry an important humorous content. These may be either true creations of the author’s, or be formed on the basis of others, already existing, that are manipulated for comic effect. They are extremely difficult to translate, as translators must create in their own language another neologism that, while not identical in form and meaning, provokes a similar reaction in the spectator. It is not surprising then that the translators we are dealing with preferred to omit the neologisms present in the Spanish plays, although, aware of their comic possibilities, they decided to create

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

their own and insert them in sequences that in no case correspond to those of the original terms. Comic neologisms are usually the creation of the drolls and servants; in the second jornada of No siempre…, Inés attributes her mistress’s bad humour to a hypochondria that she terms reventar de dama (p. 114), while in the previous jornada she calls Ginés cojifeo (from cojo and feo, p. 129), and employs the compound word cochiboda as a synonym of lío or jaleo: INÉS: Gran cochiboda hay en casa. ¡Quiera Dios que pare en bien!

[No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 103]

Compound and derived words are also found in No puede ser…: D. FÉLIX: TARUGO: D. FÉLIX: TARUGO:

Tarugo, amigo, ¿a qué aguardas? Tarugo, ¿qué tarugueas? ¿Qué he de hacer yo si la casa? Aplicar algún remedio a tan forzosa desgracia. ¿Qué remedio? ¿Soy yo ungüento de sánalo-todo? [No puede ser…, Jornada III, p. 205]

These creations are not reflected in the translated texts, although these do also show evidence of the translator’s creativity in this respect, especially in the cases of Crowne and Dryden. In Sir Courtly Nice we find “Strumpets General” (p. 27), a “military” rank that, according to Bellguard, women attain at the age of twenty; “Your roguery” (p. 74), which is how Surly addresses Sir Courtly; or “Ninkumpoop” (p. 75) and the word “Fohing” (p. 75) already mentioned, both of which are given to Surly. In An Evening’s Love Bellamy mocks Don Lopez, calling him “His Catholick Majesty”, and Wildblood makes fun of the credulousness of the citizens of Madrid: BELLAMY: Where did you begin to blow the Trumpet? WILDBLOOD: In the Gaming-house, where I found most of the Town-wits; the Prose-wits playing, and the Verse-wits rooking. [An Evening’s Love, Act III, p. 324]

It hardly seems a coincidence, either, that Dryden describes verse-wits as tricksters, in view of his well known criticisms of the use of verse in theatre. These neologisms are sometimes the creation of arrogant characters who, in an attempt to appear more educated or sophisticated, comically deform words to



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

create others that are nonsense13. An example is provided by Crack when, in disguise, he speaks of the wonders of his supposed country of origin: CRACK: BELLGUARD: CRACK: BELLGUARD:

Our oysters have wonderful Conference. Circumference, I suppose you mean. Ye’ave nick’d it; three of ‘em block up a Harbour; ‘tis our way of Mortification. Fortification. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act IV, p. 78]

“Westmonsters”, mentioned earlier, is also the creation of Crack, although in this case the excuse for its use was a feigned ignorance of London. Dryden, too, employed this device, in the character of Aurelia, who believes its use makes her more refined: AURELIA: Give me the Counsellor of the Graces. CAMILLA: The Counsellor of the Graces, Madam? AURELIA: My glass, I mean. [An Evening’s Love, Act III, p. 326]

On occasions Aurelia is overpedantic in her linguistic self-corrections, as when Bellamy warns her it is impossible for his magic tricks to have any effect when there is a sea in between, and she retorts: “I am not so ill a Geographer, or to speak more properly, a Chorographer, as not to know there is a Pasagge by Land from here to Flanders” (Act III, p. 328). 6.1.2.3 Repartee Equally frequent in the Spanish plays are the swift successions of witticisms that dazzle the spectator and at the same time make the dialogue much more agile. This device, known as “reparty” or repartee, was also popular among Restoration playwrights and required its own rhythm and emphasis. Dryden showed his preference for repartee in the prologue to An Evening’s Love: “As for reparty in particular, as it is the very soul of conversation, so it is the greatest grace of comedy”. It is therefore not surprising that there are several examples in El astrólogo..., as in the following conversation between Maskall and his master, Wildblood:

13. It was to be precisely this form of expression that was made famous a century later by a character in Sheridan’s The Rivals (1775), Mrs Malaprop, who gave her name to the humorous confusion of words with similar pronunciation. This device had, however, already been used successfully by Shakespeare, in such plays as for example Much Ado About Nothing and A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

WILD: ... If it were so, she is lost for ever. MASK: And so is Beatrix. WILD: Now could I cut my Throat for madness. MASK: Now could I break my Neck for despair: if I could find a Precipice absolutely to my liking. [An Evening’s Love, Act IV, p. 347]

Dryden prefers to employ repartee in dialogues that have no equivalent in the Spanish text, and in the only case in which the scene exists in the original, the result is not quite the same: MOR: Luego en vano es que prosiga BEA: What, do you fight after the French aqueste intento. Fashion, take Towns before you declare War? BEA: Jamás. MASK: I should be glad to imitate them so de mi boca lo sabrás. far, to be in the middle of the Country before MOR: Pues de ti lo he de saber, you could resist me. no sirves, y eres mujer. BEA: Well, what Composition, Monsieur? BEA: Sí. MASK: Deliver up your Lady’s Secret. MOR: Pues tú me lo dirás. [An Evening’s Love, Act II, p. 312] [El astrólogo..., Jornada I, p. 231]

Other translators, such as Digby and Sydserf, hardly use repartee at all, just the opposite of the author they are translating, Calderón, in whose comedies we find many examples, apart from that already mentioned: DIEGO: GINÉS: DIEGO: GINÉS:

Tú has de ir. Yo no he de ir. ¿Por qué? Porque la más singular razón que hay para no andar es tener quebrado un pie.

LEONOR: CARLOS: LEONOR: CARLOS: LEONOR: CARLOS: LEONOR:

¿Tú lo quieres? Yo lo quiero. ¿Tú lo trazas? Yo lo trazo, a cuyo efecto escondido estoy, por no embarazarlo, ni encontrarme con don Diego, o con tu padre. No alcanzo la razón. Yo sí. ¿Qué es?

[No siempre…, Jornada III, p. 126]

[No siempre…, Jornada III, p. 165–6]



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

In Coello, however, we find only two examples; in the one cited here, which in this case has been translated into English, Don Enrique and Don Carlos cannot understand how they can have seen the same woman in two different places at the same time: decided;] ENR: Pues yo no sé lo que diga. HEN: This question, Cousin, may be CAR: Ni yo sé lo que me entienda. soon ENR: ¿Pues hay más que verla, Carlos? Pray come along, her Chamber’s not CAR: Pues Enrique, ¿hay más que verlas? far off. ENR: Ven, para que no porfíes. CAR: And my House but the next CAR: Ven tú para que lo veas. door; let’s ENR: No está muy lejos la cuadra. go thither.] CAR: Y mi casa también cerca. HEN: You’ll quickly find your Error, ENR: Tú verás cómo te engañas. Cousin. CAR: Y tú verás cómo yerras. CAR: And you’ll as soon be undeceived. [Los empeños..., Jornada III, p. 130] [The Adventures…, Act V, p. 123]

Tuke does without the repartee, and reproduces the information in the source text in a variety of ways in a conversation that, because of its length, I have not reproduced in full. The above is only the final part of the translation of the dialogue, the closest in form to the final verses of the original (but which does not match the linguistic wit of Coello). The Spanish playwright concludes Los empeños... in similar fashion:

OCTAVIO: CÉSAR: ENRIQUE: QUATRÍN:

¡Hay tal dicha! ¡Hay tal ventura! ¡Hay engaño más notable! Pues ya no hay más que esperar.

[Los empeños..., Jornada III, p. 136]

Tuke omits this ending in his translation, but this does not mean to say that he does not occasionally employ repartee; like Dryden, he only uses it in verses of his own creation, probably because he only felt free to do so once he had liberated himself from the restrictions of the original text. The following conversation between Diego and Octavio, the effect of which is reinforced by the use of rhyme, may serve as an example: DIEGO: OCTAVIO: DIEGO

Why Sir, they’ll never offer to kill me, there’s nothing in the world I hate like death. Since Death’s the passage to Eternity, to be for ever Happy, we must die. ‘Tis very true; but most that die would live, if to themselves they could new Leases give.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

OCTAVIO: DIEGO: OCTAVIO:

We must possess our Souls with such indifference, as not to Wish, nor Fear to part from hence. The first I may pretend to, for I swear I do not wish to part; ‘tis true I fear. Fear! Why, Death’s only cruel when he flies, and will not design to close the Weeping Eyes. [The Adventures…, Act V, p. 128]

At first sight, the content of the conversation is much more serious than what one is used to in such linguistic exchanges, despite the subtle underlying irony. Moreto, for his part, shows a certain predilection for this type of device, in which Tarugo is always involved: DOÑA ANA: TARUGO: DON FÉLIX: DOÑA ANA: DON FÉLIX: DOÑA ANA: DON FÉLIX: TARUGO:

Yo te prometo un regalo. Pues a la Puente, y piquemos. Señora, al intento vamos. Con el aviso os espero. Cuenta os vendré a dar de todo. Me lograréis un deseo. Vamos pues, Tarugo. Vamos; que no hay ley en el ingenio si no vieres que a este hermano en la capucha le meto.

[No puede ser…, Jornada I, p. 191]

Crowne also uses dialogues of this type in his translation: sometimes he employs them at moments different from those chosen by Moreto; on other occasions, like his colleagues Tuke and Dryden, he introduces them in scenes without a parallel in the Spanish text. An example of the former is when Tarugo/Crack asks Doña Inés/Leonora to disguise herself so that she can be taken out of the house: TARUGO: Pues poneos los mantos, CRACK: Put on a Vizard, and something y para ir bien disfrazadas, over your Cloaths. algunas basquiñas viejas, LEO: Sweet Rogue. y luego, luego en volandas CRACK: Nay, nay, be gone. idme a esperar a mi cuarto. LEO: Delicate Rogue. INÉS: ¿Para qué? CRACK: Nay, nay, he stays for you. TARUGO: Así he de sacarlas. LEO: Incomparable Rogue. [No puede ser…, Jornada III, p. 206 ] CRACK: Phaw! Put on your Vizard. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act V, p. 91]

Prominent among the new scenes are the arguments between Hothead and Testimony, and those involving Sir Courtly:



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 



AUNT: SIR CO: AUNT: SIR CO: AUNT: SIR CO:

I know not what to say, Sir, indeed I must not... Oh! Pardon me! Oh! Pardon me! Oh! Madam! You confound me, Sir. You distract me, Madam. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act V, p. 96]

6.2.1.4 Double entendre In the context of the theatre this refers to the use of a word, sentence or verse that communicates two different messages, one aimed at the characters on stage and the other at the audience, but without needing to be spoken as an aside. To function as a humorous technique this therefore requires the presence of an audience that knows the reality of what is being made fun of, and, like the aside, needs the actor or actress to adopt a special tone of voice and gesture to invite the complicity of the spectator: INÉS: GINÉS:

¡Ginés mío! ¿No me das un abrazo? Y dos y tres, que no soy un miserable.

OCTAVIO: QUATRÍN:

¿Pues cómo en tan pocas horas han cabido tantos males? Horas de agosto, y sin cena, por fuerza han de ser muy largas. [Los empeños..., Jornada III, p. 132]

[No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 95]

In both these cases complicity with the audience is achieved. In the first because we all know that the droll has behaved disgracefully, betraying his master, in the second because of his complaints that he has not given him supper. Tuke does not translate this conversation between Octavio and Quatrín, nor does Digby reproduce the dialogue between Inés and Ginés; indeed, this latter translator misses, for no apparent reason, an opportunity for raising a laugh when he omits the double meaning in the following example: DIEGO: Albricias, que nada sabe. ZANCHO: Nay, then we are safe, GINÉS: ¿Cómo lo había de saber? Chichon. [No siempre…, Jornada II, p. 97] [Elvira, or…, Act II, p. 453]

Ginés tricks his master, but not the audience, who know he betrayed him by a note to Doña Beatriz. Digby attempts to compensate for the omission at this point by means of irony:

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

BEATRIZ: De rabiosos celos muerta BLANCA: Have I not a worthy gallant, estoy. think you? INÉS: Tienes mil razones. [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 450] [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 87]

Annoyed at finding out about Don Diego’s amorous adventures through a letter, Doña Beatriz reveals her anger before Inés, who replies with mockery. In the English version, the maid’s reply disappears, and it is the lady herself who comments ironically on the doings of the womanising beau. Digby gives Francisca an ingenious response when Chichon voices his fears at jumping from the balcony, a reply that is not in the source text: FRANCISCA: I’ll help you, with a halter.

[Elvira, or…, Act II, p. 455]

Double meanings also suffer in the translations of No puede ser…. Sydserf omits them all, while Crowne sporadically attempts to make up for the loss such omission implies: PEDRO: Haréis bien, porque se arriesga CRACK: Now for lies and nonsense to la mujer hermosa en casa. entertain this jealous Brother till the TAR: Y yo sé alguno que piensa lover comes. que la guarda, y es en vano. BELL: Sir Thomas, your Servant, PEDRO: Será tonto el que la vela. what’s your Will with me? TAR: Como vos lo habéis pensado. CRACK: Talk. I love talk... Begin. [No puede ser…, Jornada II, p. 198] [Sir Courtly Nice, Act IV, p. 78]

Tarugo openly laughs at Don Pedro, who thinks that his sister is perfectly well protected, and invites the audience to share his mockery. The translator does not use this double meaning, but gives Crack a sentence that anticipates the witty remarks of the droll in the lines following. Finally, there are also examples in the comedies analysed that derive from the translator’s creativity. Dryden is a good exponent of this; in An Evening’s Love, a persistent Maskall tries to distract Don Alonzo, who is tired of the impertinence of the droll: MASKALL: ALONZO: MASKALL:

Pray go on, Sir, we can discourse as we walk together. And whither were you going, Sir? To the Devil, I think. O! Not this Year or two, Sir, by your age. [An Evening’s Love, Act I, p. 299]

Maskall makes fun of Don Alonzo in his reply: on the one hand he makes it clear that don Alonzo will end up in hell, and on the other he attempts to console him



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

by saying this will not happen soon, but in a year or two. Don Alonzo does not react to his comments. 6.1.2.5 Asides The aside is one of the devices most often used in theatrical performances, especially in the classical comedies. It consists of a few words that a character says to him or herself so that they cannot be overheard by the other actors, but are audible to the audience. The course of the main action is thus temporarily interrupted while the spectators cease to be mere observers and become part of the performance. Asides are usually accompanied by an exaggeration of gesture and intonation by the actors and actresses making them. This device was often employed by Siglo de Oro playwrights and spoken by ladies and beaux, but particularly by the drolls and servants. Restoration actors and their audiences were also very familiar with the device, which had been widely employed in the Elizabethan period, and it should not, therefore, have supposed an additional problem for the translators. They were not, however, very systematic about transferring them to their own language, and asides were respected, omitted or replaced by other new ones without the application of any recognisable criterion. Even so, although they were not equally employed by all the Spanish playwrights in this study, their number does not vary significantly from one language to the other: for example, No siempre… has fourteen humorous asides, as against the sixteen included by Digby in Elvira, or…; there is a similar percentage in El astrólogo... and its translation, with fifteen and sixteen asides respectively; in Los empeños... there are only two, while in its translation, The Adventures…, there are four; Moreto uses them on twenty-seven occasions, as against Sydserf ’s nine (four in scenes of his own creation) and the thirty four of Crowne in Sir Courtly Nice (almost thirty of which are in scenes invented by him). Moreto’s work and its translations are thus those between which there is the greatest divergence in the treatment of asides. The use of asides in the original text and in the translation coincides quite frequently in three of the texts, The Adventures…, Elvira, or… and Tarugo’s Wiles, although the degree to which they differ from the original text varies: BEATRIZ: [Aparte] Inés, qué buena cara. INÉS: Así así. [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 88]

BLANCA: She’s strangely handsome, and how well she speaks! [Aside] FRAN: So, so, methinks. [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 451]

BEATRIZ: ¿Hay suerte más rigurosa? BLANCA: Ah, the traitor! [Aparte] [Aside]

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

INÉS: A leer vuelve. ¿De qué nace ya el agrado ya el furor? [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 85]

FRAN: What can this mean? [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 450]

PEDRO: [Aparte] PAT: [Aside] O Heav’ns! No Vive Dios, que está despacio appearance of his going! If my sister este hombre, y como he dicho chance to come to the garden. volverá mi hermana luego. [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act IV, p. 37] [No puede ser…, Jornada II, p. 199]

The peculiarities of some of the Spanish scenes require a considerable number of asides. This is especially evident in Moreto’s play, as the stratagems of Tarugo need an audience that shares in his tricks. There is not always a similar number in the target texts, and on occasions two Spanish asides merge into a single one in English: INÉS: Antes advierte LIV: I know you are no Taylor, there’s que nada me has de ocultar both reward and punishment before you. pues te va premio o castigo. TAR: Now the Fish begins to bite, if the TAR: [Ap. Ya picó el pez]. Preguntad. line but hold... [Aside] [...] [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act II, p. 12] TAR: [Aparte] Tragose todo el anzuelo; iré alargando el sedal. [No puede ser…, Jornada I, pp. 193–4]

Less frequently, the opposite occurs, and a single original aside gives rise to two in the translation: D. ANT: [Aparte] Por Cristo que le da cordel el viejo. [El astrólogo..., Jor. III, p. 259]

LOP: This eternal old man will make me mad. [Aside] [An Evening’s…, Act III, p. 333]

BELL: There is no End of this old Fellow. [Aside] [An Evening’s…, Act IV, p. 352]

In a very few examples the information contained in the original dialogue is transformed into an aside when it is transferred to the target language:

PEDRO: Señor don Crisanto, ya prevenido el cuarto queda, y podéis entrar a honrarle. TARUGO: Para pagar la fineza del hospedaje, mi honor quiero fiaros.

BELL: Come, Sir, let me wait on you to your Chamber. CRACK: Hold, my Lord, a word; I have Business of great consequence; I must humbly apply to your Understanding. BELL: So I must be hindred with more



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

PEDRO: Es deuda Nonsense [Aside]. con que empeñáis mi amistad. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act III, p. 60] [No puede ser…, Jornada II, p. 198]

It is equally unusual for information contained in an aside in the source text to be replaced by a dialogue in the target one: LEON: … he sabido ALON: I have lost a Jewel, which I value que una joya tenéis, que hoy se ha and I hear it is in your possession. perdido en mi casa. Turbado infinitely, [Aparte] But I accuse your Wants, not you for it. ¡qué presto su delito ha confesado! [...] JUAN: ¡Cielos, qué es lo que he oído! MEL: This Diamond you speak on, I LEON: No digo yo que vos habéis confess... tenido culpa, sino es aquella. ALON: But what need you confess, Sir, mano de quien la hubisteis. before you are accus’d? [El astrólogo..., Jornada III, p. 261] [An Evening’s Love, Act IV, pp. 358–9]

There may also be cases, of course, of the omission of the aside when the original fragment of which it was part is eliminated: BEA: Inés, ¿quién llama? ELV: Madam, it is the noble charity LEO: Quien, si merece, señora, of those who cast upon me, not mine own besar vuestra blanca mano, to which I must acknowledge any advantage desmentir, no en vano, I ever can pretend to, more than what sus fortunas desde ahora, fair Violante’s meditation gives me. pues de su golfo cruel, Ø puerto toma en vuestro cielo. [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 451] BEA: Álcese, amiga, del suelo. LEO: [Aparte] ¡Qué mal ha sonado el “él”! [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 88] OCT: Imitó OCT: Let us stay here without, until he comes; a tantos abuelos grandes: And then go in, and rest yourself awhile. mientras que viene el criado, But, how go your Affairs in Flandes? decid como sucedió. Ø QUAT: [Aparte] Ea, romance le dio, [The Adventures…, Act II, p. 71] como calambre hacia un lado. [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 112]

In the first example, the omission is due to the difficulty of the original wordplay (Doña Leonor humorously makes explicit a metapoetical reflection when she refers to the way “cruel” was pronounced, transforming the diphthong “ue” into a hiatus to accommodate it to the syllable count the verse requires); in the second it is more probably due to the originality of Quatrín’s joke in the face of what he fears will be a lengthy account of the feats of Marqués de Velada in Flanders. On other occa-

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

sions, however, the aside fits perfectly into the translation, but the translator chooses to omit it, as Sydserf does when Horatio reads a fake note from his cousin: PEDRO: El marqués, mi primo, firma. HORAT: This is Villana’s character. TARUGO: [Aparte] TARUGO: Ø ¿Primo le llama? Clavela. [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act IV, p. 32] [No puede ser…, Jornada II, p. 197]

The opposite may also occur: the aside is an original creation of the translator, either in parallel texts in the original and the translation, or in scenes he himself has created:

CÉS: Qué oscura está la noche, ANT: How dark ‘tis grown o’the sudden, aunque ha tan poco que reinan there’s not one Star appears in all the Firmament. las sombras. DIE: So much the better; for when I must fight, [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 116] I covet no Spectators of my Prowess. [Aside] [The Adventures…, Act III, p. 80]

LEONOR: ¡Qué poco agrada, quien vive sin estrella! [No siempre…, Jornada II, p. 114]

ELV: I’ll wait that happy hour. She’s in ill humour. [Aside] [Elvira, or…, Act III, p. 458]

BELL: Well, sister… prepare to receive a visit Ø from Sir Courtly Nice, this Afternoon. AUNT: Oh dear! Then I must dress. He’s a great Critick. LEO: She designs him, wou’d she cou’d get him [Aside]. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act II, p. 42]

The frequency of asides in newly created scenes in the target text is similar to that in scenes already present. 6.1.2.6 Miscellaneous There are other devices that also contribute to the humour of the plays, such as the titles and names of certain characters, the inclusion of sayings (invented or not) and set phrases, insults, intentional repetitions, metaphors or the use of a register inappropriate to a character’s position. “No puede ser el guardar una mujer” and “No siempre lo peor es cierto” are two sayings that become the humorous letter of presentation of the work they entitle. Their reproduction in English pursues the same end, to judge from their presence in the translations as title and in the dialogue. Some set phrases, sayings and proverbs have their own comic content, whether they are creations of the playwright, as in No siempre… (“Yo haré verdad el refrán / de ‘Un poco te quiero, Inés’”, p. 97) and Los empeños... (“Un nabo de cien holandas / lo pasa como una



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

breva”, p. 126), or traditional. They appear, with a comic sense that is inherent or derives from the context in which they are inserted, both in the original texts (“Al ruin puerco le dan siempre la mejor bellota”, in No puede ser…, p. 187; “La Chirinos fuera honrada”, in El astrólogo..., p.  235) and in the translations: “’Twas Eve’curiosity undid us all” (Elvira, or…, p. 450), “An open door may lead to a face of wood” (Elvira, or…, p. 453), “I would not drink water for the sake of a fine Bowl chain’d to the Wall” (Sir Courtly…, p. 16), “A fool in a Coach is like a Knave in a Pillory, the Object of Publick Derision” (Sir Courtly…, p. 42), “Bring me to my last legs” (An Evening’s…, p. 310), etc. While sayings are also present in the target texts, there is only one example of a translation from the original, a significant case illustrating the attitude of the translators to the presence of this humorous device: LEO: Ni dudo, don Juan, ALON: I cannot possibly resolve with myself que quién la dio, darla no pudo; to tell him openly he is a Thief; but I’ll gild the. vos estáis disculpado, pill for him to swallow. [Aside] pues al fin la tomásteis engañado: [An Evening’s…, Act IV, p. 357] [Aparte] Así un error tan grave le pretendo dorar. [El astrólogo..., Jor. III, p. 261]

Evocative names also belong in this section, on account of their inherent comic content: examples are Quatrín and Tarugo in Spanish, and Crack, Bellguard and Wildblood in English. Some lend themselves to wordplay, as in this example from Sir Courtly Nice:

SURLY: Is Nice within? SERVANT: Nice, Sir? SURLY: Ay, Nice, Sir; is not your Master’s Name Nice? SERVANT: ‘Tis Sir Courtly Nice. SURLY: Well, Sir, if I have a mind to clip half his name, ‘tis not Treason, is it, Sirrah? [Sir Courtly Nice, Act III, p. 44]

Certain insults in the target texts, almost always directed at the droll, also have a humorous function: DON ZANCHO: What, not yet gone, thou lazy trifling rascal?

[Elvira, or…, Act III, p. 460]

“Cursed Rogues” (The Adventures…, p.  84); “Cursed Vagabond” (The Adventures…, p. 85); “Careless Rascal” (Sir Courtly Nice, p. 54), among many others, have a similar goal.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Metaphorical allusions for humorous effect are hardly ever translated: “Tener callos de admirarse” (Los empeños..., p. 133); “Poesía hecha a moco de candil” (No puede ser…, p. 187); “Vino sin bautismo” (No puede ser…, p. 188); though there are one or two examples: GINÉS: ¿Qué importa, traidora Inés, CHI: What signifies a vail to hide my doxy, lo tapadillo, si el brío when every motion of your leg or wing va diciendo a voces que eres darts round perfuming and informing airs? coliflor de las mujeres? Thou art the very colliflower of women. [No siempre…, Jornada II, p. 129] [Elvira, or…, Act IV, p. 465]

While these are routinely omitted, others are created, thus Chichon evidences his cowardice in Elvira, or… (“An almanack in my bones foretells a beating”, p. 454); Francisca, also in Elvira, or…, expresses relief at a danger that has passed by (“The black cloud that threaten’d you last night with such a storm, is luckily blown over, p. 458); Bellamy (The Adventures…) believes that to attract a woman it is necessary first “to blow the coals” (p. 297); Diego (The Adventures…) jokes about the shock anyone who dared lift Octavio`s veil would get: DIEGO: How like an Ass he’ll look, when opening the Shell his Worship finds within so rouge a Kernel. [The Adventures…, Act IV, p. 109]

And in Sir Courtly Nice, Leonora affirms that Sir Courtly “is mortgag’d to a Thousand expensive Follies” (p. 16), while Violante humorously remarks that Surly is “a Non-Conformist to all decent Ceremonies” (p. 31). Another device that is used by the translators, but not by the Spanish playwrights, is to give the servants a language unsuited to their condition. The most notable example is that of Crack in Sir Courtly Nice: both in Moreto’s original and in Sydserf ’s translation, the droll, dressed as a tailor and indiano, appears amusing due to his extravagant actions and ingenuity; but in contrast to Tarugo, Crack uses language to create humour, as in the following example (the moment when the droll makes his second entrance into Bellguard’s house and refers to his uncle): CRACK: He is a Person, my Lord, that, as to the Altitudes of Friendship, and the most glorious Circumstances of a singular Person, is not to be cast up by the Logarithms of Oratory, nor his Latitude to be taken by the Quadrangle of Circumlocution. BELLGUARD: So… I find I shall ha’ store o’ Nonsense. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act III, p. 58]

Later Crack shows his arrogance when he goes into Bellguard’s garden: CRACK: In what Circumstance are we? BELLGUARD: Circumstance?



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

CRACK:

Ay, what call you this where we are. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act IV, p. 78]

More is to come, for this fake indiano finds himself “into the circumstance of a Sweat” (p. 87) when he is afraid. Sir Courtly, too, uses exaggerated, and therefore humorous, language both when making excuses (“I beg your pardon ten thousand times”, p. 46; “I beg your pardon a thousand times”, p. 48) and when expressing happiness (“I shall be fond to an infinite degree”, p. 75). Similarly, Dryden employs this type of expression for Aurelia, who uses the adverb “furiously” on no fewer than twelve occasions in An Evening’s…, always in ridiculous combinations: “This is furiously furious” (p. 327), “I love a man most furiously” (p. 328), “I am furiously fearful” (p. 348), “My cousing is furiously handsome” (p. 356), etc. As a general rule, the examples presented in these last few pages dealing with humour derived from linguistic elements point to a translator who accepts the comic possibilities of the language of the source text, but prefers to give rein to his own inventiveness to express it. This justifies the supression of devices such as wordplay, neologisms, repartee, double meanings and asides while at the same time new ones are created that fit in perfectly with situations in target text. The same is true of comic metaphors, laughable evocative names, proverbs, insults and linguistic deformations. The laborious task of translating all these is thus avoided, and at the same time the creation of new ones guarantees a better acceptance in the recipient culture. 6.2 Love and women Love, or the feelings of a gentleman attempting to achieve the favours of his loved one, is a constant concern of Siglo de Oro theatre. It is centred principally on the beau and his lady, and is their reason for living, although with certain differences imposed by the distinction between the sexes: the beau takes the initiative and courts the lady who, though she may at times adopt a role similar to that of the beau, reacts with the passivity expected in the society of the age. He must faithfully serve her, with constant tokens of his love and demonstrations of the sincerity of his emotions which, in this way, will be required. This seduction procedure is accompanied by a series of flirtatious arts, exercised in two phases: the first is non-verbal, and is based on love at first sight. After that comes seduction through words, either directly or through intermediaries (generally servants) who arrange encounters and carry letters to and fro. Some of

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

this is made explicit in the source text, as in No siempre…, only partially reproduced by Digby: CARL: Rendido ostenté finezas, FER: That confirmed by reason, from her wit, constante sufrí desprecios, her quality, and most unblemish’d conduct: fino merecí favores, nor was there more to justify my love, celoso lloré tormentos; than to persuade my happiness in her que estas son las cuatro edades just correspondence to it, by all the ways de cualquier amor. of honourable admission. [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 75] [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 448]

Love at first sight is one of the most often repeated features of the comedias. The suddenness with which this occurs is far-fetched, of course, but this hardly affects the dramatic purpose. There is a clear definition of this love that defies reason in No siempre…, Los empeños... and No puede ser…, but it is only translated in the last two. In Los empeños..., Don César and Nise fall desperately in love in tragic circumstances, just like Don Antonio and Camilla in the translation: NISE: Abrí los ojos para CAM: [...] Opening my eyes, volver a cerrarlos luego; think, dearest Porcia, how I was astonished Hallo, ¡ay Porcia!, hallo a mi lado to find there kneeling by my side, a man a un bizarro caballero, of a most noble form, who bowing to me que en caricias, y halagos, Madam (says he), you are welcome to the world. daba a mi vida remedio. [The Adventures..., Act I, p. 56] [Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 105]

This love is so strong that it does not disappear with time, as is shown in the chance meeting of the two in Seville. In this case, the Spanish dialogue is much more expressive than are Antonio’s words in the English version: CES: Es ilusión que me engaña. ANT: O Heavens! What’s that I see; or do I NIS: Es sombra que lisonjea. Sure I am asleep; and ‘tis a Vision [Dream? CES: ¿No es esa la misma dama of her, who’s always present to my Thoughts; que libré? NIS: ¿No es éste César? who fearing my revolt, does now appear Sí, que pienso le esperaban, to prove, and to confirm my constancy, él ha llegado sin duda. when first I saw that miracle, she seemed CES: ¿No es la mujer que yo amaba? an Apparition. NIS: ¿No es el hombre que yo adoro? [The Adventures..., Act III, p. 92] CES: Pues qué dudo. NIS: Que me espanta. NIS: ¡Albricias vivo deseo! CES: ¡Albricias muerta esperanza! [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 120–1]

In No siempre…, Don Carlos describes thus his reaction on first seeing Leonor: “Yo vi una hermosura, y yo / la amé, don Juan, tan a un tiempo / todo, que entre



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

ver y amar, / aún no sé cuál fue primero” (Jornada I, p. 75). Don Félix (No puede ser…), too, when he sees the portrait of Doña Inés, falls in love with her “divina perfección” (p.  194), while his English counterpart, Horatio, decides, from this moment, that the lady in the portrait is “the only object of my love” (p. 4). Such love usually finds those involved unprepared, hence the simile applied by Doña Ana Pacheco (No puede ser…) with a corresponding translation in Sydserf: ANA: Que es como el áspid amor, SOP: For love is like a frozen Snake taken up que el que encontrándole helado, by a compassionate Pilgrim, who trusting to de su languidez fiado, its weakness, gives it the heat of his Bosom, le da del seno el calor; and whilst the poor wretch is cheerfully y obra libre y satisfecho marching on his way, he then finds the force del desmayo compasivo, of the Serpent’s poison by a fatal sting in y no sabe que está vivo his breast. hasta que le muerde el pecho. [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act IV, pp. 28–9] [No puede ser…, Jornada II, p. 194]

Tarugo also makes his opinion on the matter clear, although in more prosaic fashion. This time there is no equivalent to his comments in the English translations of No puede ser…: TARUGO:

El que bebe, cuando bebe, no sabe el mal que le hace; y el que bebe sin empacho, imita al amante fino que hasta que vomita el vino no sabe que está borracho.

[No puede ser..., Jornada II, p. 194]

The lady usually rewards her suitor’s patience with a love token, while he may solicit her physical presence by means, for example, of a serenade. The clearest example is the jewel (in the English version a diamond) that Doña María gives Don Juan in El astrólogo... Although the gentleman does not respond with a serenade in Calderon’s comedy, Wildblood and Bellamy do play for their ladies; Dryden uses Spanish Golden Age drama conventions even when these are not present in the source text. One of the characteristics of this phase of verbal seduction is the “period of trial” to which ladies subject their suitors to ensure themselves, before contracting matrimony, of their faithfulness, and so make their intentions are sincere; Dryden, in two scenes of his own creation, disguises Jacintha so that, with a different personality, she may “make an absolute trial of him”. Although the unfaithfulness of Wildblood is made clear on both occasions, Jacintha decides to forgive him: “If I had to deal with another Servant I would learn more wit than to tempt him in

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

disguises: for that’s to throw a Venice-glass to the ground, to try if it would not break” (p. 364). The use of pardon to unite a couple also occurs in No siempre lo peor es cierto, where Beatriz decides to excuse Don Diego’s lapses after listening to the argument of his maid Inés that he is but a man, just as Doña Blanca, following the advice of her own maid, does in the translation: themselves] INÉS: ¿Qué querías que hiciera FRA: But I’d have women too, true to [...] un caballero mozo and not rebuke their gallants, by requiring que le apunta el dinero con el bozo, more than the nature of frail flesh will bear, y está, cuando más ama, I’d have men true as steel; but steel, you know, cincuenta y tantas leguas de su ama? (the purest and best-polish’d steel) will ply, Ya pagó su pecado, urg’d from its rectitude, forsooth; but then, bastantemente en casa de aquella, with a smart spring, comes to its place again. moza puesto que sin venir de, [Elvira, or…, Act III, p. 459] Zaragoza vino descalabrado. [No siempre…, Jornada II, pp. 112–13]

As Don Carlos says in No siempre…, “quien no ama los defectos / no puede decir que ama” (p. 146). Nor does Doña María (El astrólogo...) attach too much importance to the fact that Don Juan courts Doña Violante; she knows that at heart it is she he loves. A further element in the courting game is seduction through words, which may take place in the street, in a garden or below a barred window. There are examples of this in the four comedies studied here, and the translators apply it in their plots in almost identical fashion: Octavio (Los empeños...) secretly enters Porcia’s house in the master’s absence, while Camilla receives an identical visit in the translation; Don Juan (El astrólogo...) courts Doña María every night, and she hangs a red cloth from her window to warn him of the danger of being discovered, as happens with Theodosia in An Evening’s Love (although in this case Dryden omits the barred window and the cloth). The couples in No siempre… also have secret encounters: Don Diego with Doña Beatriz, and Don Carlos with Leonor, and this device is repeated in Elvira, or…; Doña Inés (No puede ser…) at last has the opportunity to see her suitor, Don Félix, in her own house, thanks to the wiles of the droll; the same occurs with their English counterparts. The lady’s honour, however, is a real obstacle to the fulfilment of the lovers’ desires. They must keep up appearances so as not to break the norms, and this gives rise to many situations of subterfuge and pretence, if not of outright resignation. In this way Nise (Los empeños...) puts honour before the happiness she feels at finding in her house the stranger who she had fallen in love with, a decision respected by the translator in his character:



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

NIS: Mas porque no está mi hermano CAM: I yield as little to you, noble Antonio, en casa, y es indecencia in Happiness, as Affection, but still hablaros sola en ausencia, Porcia must do as may become your Bride, quien no os ha dado la mano, and sister to don Henrique, in whose absence, perdonadme, que aunque gano a longer conference must be excused. mucho en estarme con vos, Therefore I take the freedom to withdraw. es forzoso por los dos, [The Adventures..., Act III, p. 94] que a mi cuadra me retire, aunque mi pecho suspire. [Los empeños..., Jornada II, p. 123]

This respect applies also to the gentlemen. Don Octavio (Los empeños...) would rather die than offend his loved one, and the attitude of his English counterpart is identical: ENR: Porque se restaure HEN: …He must renounce all Claims to Porcia, el honor de Nise, es fuerza or die immediately. que aquí con ella te cases, […] Swords] o morir; por esto escoge. OCT: Cease your contention, and turn all your […] against this Breast; whils’t Porcia and I have breath, OCT: Pues morir escojo, Enrique, she must be mine, there’s no Divorce but Death. que es el remedio más fácil. [The Adventures..., Act V, p. 138] [Los empeños..., Jornada III, p. 136]

Don Diego (No siempre…) is similarly faithful to the laws of honour and refuses to renounce the first lady he courted, Doña Beatriz, as, in accordance with these norms, it is she he must marry: DIE: Pues antes, Beatriz hermosa, ZAN: You’re mistress of your words and fui caballero que amante. actions, madam, […] and may use me as you please; but this hand de mí mismo, de mi honor, shall sooner pierce this heart than e’er be given mi obligación, mi sangre in marriage to Elvira. me acuerdo sólo. [Elvira, or…, Act V, p. 476] [No siempre…, Jornada III, p. 170]

Despite all these vicissitudes, the comedies have a happy ending, that is, the couples get married. Porcia and Nise (Los empeños...) marry the men they really love; Doña Inés does the same with Don Félix (No puede ser…), even before receiving the paternal blessing; Don Juan finally obtains the hand of Doña María (El astrólogo...) and Don Carlos makes his dreams come true by marrying Leonor (No siempre…), as does Don Diego Centellas with Doña Beatriz in the same play. Obviously, servants and maids join their destinies in imitation of their masters and mistresses; as Morón affirms in El astrólogo..., “un criado siempre fue / en la tabla

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

del amor / contrapelo del señor” (Jornada I, p. 231). The servants, however, see matrimony from a much less romantic point of view, and this is made more explicit in the translations than in the original texts, as this comment by Diego in The Adventures… shows: FLORA: Oh Diego! Must we be prisoners together? DIEGO: Why, that’s not so bad as the Bands of Wedlock, Flora. [The Adventures..., Act IV, p. 108]

The droll considers matrimony “the worst of all disasters” (p. 127), since, as Crack maintains in Sir Courtly…, love is ephemeral14: CRACK: As for laughing, I believe you will have an Annuity for Life; but for Love, you’ll only have a Lease for three or four Years. [Sir Courtly Nice.., Act III, p. 44]

Not only the servants scoff at the idea of marriage as a happy ending; the beau Wildblood, for example, is of the opinion that marriage is for less civilised peoples: WILDBLOOD: Marriage quoth a! What, dost thou think I have been bred in the Deserts of Africk, or among the Savages of America? Nay, if I had, I must needs have known better things than so. [An Evening’s..., Act I, p. 297]

In spite of opinions like this, marriage is the outcome in all the translations, although with slight variations from what would be expected: in An Evening’s Love, for instance, Dryden ignores the precepts and marries Theodosia to Bellamy, and not to her beloved Don Lopez. The translator justifies this decision as just punishment for having courted two women at the same time; it is, in any case, a happy ending, since Don Lopez hardly ever appears on stage, and Bellamy, famous for the jokes deriving from his being a fake astrologer, will doubtless be able to count on the approval of the audience. This exception in the resolution of the plot is less surprising if we bear in mind the playwright’s opinions on many aspects of Siglo de Oro drama, among them the way honour is dealt with, which we shall consider later. There are also slight changes in this respect in the translations of No puede ser…: Sydserf pairs off the servants (Domingo with Locura and Alberto with Stanlia), but not the droll Tarugo, who marries Manuela in the original; Crowne, for his part, makes no mention of possible parallel marriages. It is probable that, since in

14. One of the conventions governing love and sex in Restoration theatre was, indeed, that long-lasting relationships and marriage led to boredom. This generally humorous vision of relationships is evident in the work of important playwrights of the period such as Wycherley, Congreve and Etherege.



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

both cases the droll was English, the translators saw no need to subject him to the conventions of Spanish comedy. The difference in customs between Spain and England meant, of course, that love was treated differently in the two literatures. In the process of translation with which we are concerned here, however, the original plots and situations in which love, as understood in the Spain of the period, is the protagonist are reproduced practically in their entirety in the translations. There are, indeed some changes, notably in Sir Courtly Nice, but this work differs from the other translations in that although it follows the Spanish work in the development of the love plot, it is far removed from it in spirit. Much of this change derives from the presence of a woman, Leonora (Doña Inés in the original), who is much less restricted by Spanish conventions than are her companions. Siglo de Oro women were subjected to a strict code of honour which treated men and women very differently. Unmarried women had to be kept confined to prevent them being seduced, giving rise to all kinds of stratagems to breach this protection. Although, with the exception of Leonor in No siempre…, all these women rebel against their situation, they do not go as far as to break with the prevailing conventions. This task was actually made extremely difficult by the opposition of the father (Los empeños...) or brother (No puede ser…, El astrólogo...), or by the jealousy of an incredulous lover (No siempre…). Calderon’s Leonor sets out her submissive position in the first jornada: LEO: No prosigas, no ELV: Those are the witnesses indeed, Fernando, pues sea justo, o no sea justo, to whose true testimony’s false inference basta saber que es tu gusto you owe my moderation and my silence. obedecerle yo. [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 448] [No siempre…, Jornada I, p. 68]

And so she will continue to lament throughout the play, to the point where she assumes her condition as a “slave” before Doña Beatriz; in the translation, Elvira’s relationship with her father is the same, as one based only on obedience (p. 477). With the exception of Leonor/Elvira, women in the comedies, as we have seen, do not so easily accept their condition. Leonor/Elvira commend themselves to fate to find a solution to their problems, but Nise and Porcia (Los empeños...) do not remain passive when faced with a future arranged by men, and decide to look for a solution: NISE: Pues demos alguna traza. PORCIA: Pues búsquese algún remedio.

[Los empeños..., Jornada I, p. 109]

The English women do the same: CAMILLA: Cousin, we should act, then to complain is childishly to beat the Air in vain. [The Adventures..., Act I, p. 61]

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

There is a similar attitude in El astrólogo..., where Doña María and Doña Violante both love the same man: the first jeopardises her honour by allowing Don Juan to enter her house at night; the second, far from remaining idle, turns to the astrologer to get her lover back because, as she herself affirms, “qué no intenta / celosa, y desesperada / una mujer” (p. 252). Dryden reproduces this plucky attitude in his translation, just as Sydserf does in his with respect to the steps taken by Doña Ana Pacheco and Doña Inés in No puede ser…; Doña Ana does not accept the intransigent attitude of her betrothed, and plans the whole plot to show him the error of his ideas: ANA: Dilato mi casamiento, SOP: I am resolv’d against marriage so long estando ajustados ya as he practises this barbaraous jealousie against entre los dos los conciertos. his sister. Para hacerle mi marido [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act I, p. 4] quisiera verle más cuerdo. [No puede ser…, Jornada I, p. 190]

For her part, Doña Inés dares to confront her guardian when he, after finding a portrait of Don Félix in his sister’s quarters, threatens to kill her: INÉS: Aunque pueda parecer, LIV: Heav’ns be my witness I near entertain’d a tu error la desconfianza thought either to grate upon my Birth or Chastity; a mi pecho, has de saber but now that I’m innocently amus’d, I find a que te quiere responder dangerous spirit revel in my blood. Sulphur and mi honor con esta templanza. Gunpowder when fir’d in the great wild Fields [No puede ser…, II, p. 196] does no harm. [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act II, p. 10]

In this case, the English woman is considerably more irate, and something similar occurs in Sydserf ’s translation of this play when Doña Inés sets out her rejection of the marriage her brother has arranged for her: D. PEDRO: DÑA. INÉS: D. PEDRO: DÑA. INÉS:

Es con don Diego de Rojas, un caballero bizarro. Y, ¿sabes tú si yo quiero? Pues queriendo yo, ¿no es llano que has de querer tú también? No, que soy yo quien se casa. [No puede ser..., Jornada III, p. 204]

PATRICIO: LIVIANA: PATRICIO: LIVIANA: PATRICIO:

That noble Cavalier, don Rodrigo de la Rochos. Do you know if I love him? I have made a choice, and you must be content. [...] Have not I a will? Nothing in this but obedience: I being your father in the case.



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

LIVIANA: Here’s a story indeed! A grave Father? I wish you had the Wisdom that’s requisite in an elder Brother. [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act V, p. 46]

Again, Liviana is more forceful in her opposition to her brother’s decisions than is her Spanish counterpart. As a general rule however, the reactions of the ladies in these circumstances are reproduced faithfully. What is particularly striking is that the behaviour of these women becomes more daring in the target texts when characters or scenes are involved that do not imitate the original, but are creations of the translators. In An Evening’s Love, for example, Theodosia and Jacintha not only provocatively move aside their cloaks to reveal their faces to the beaux, they are much more brazen when speaking to them than are Calderon’s ladies: Jacintha, a character created by Dryden, offers a very unconventional view of love (“Love here is like our Grass; if it be not mow’d quickly, ‘tis burnt up”, p. 302), while her sister Theodosia, in a remarkable scene, dares to express an opinion about the dubious condition of male honour in England (“If any Man has horns, he bears ‘em as loftily as a Stag, and as inoffensively”). If these are the comments of ladies, one can imagine what the maids may say, and the original advice they may proffer: [To Theodosia] “You must pay him in Specie, Madam, give him Love for his Wit” (p. 370). There are more examples of this kind in the translations of the work by Moreto; the case of the baker’s wife in the third act of Tarugo’s Wiles, who openly stands up to her husband in public, while Leonora and Violante (Sir Courtly Nice) reply to their brother and betrothed in a far from appropriate manner: BELLGUARD: LEONORA: VIOLANTE:

Your Servant, good my Lord. Your most humble Servant, Madam. My Lord, why do you call him Lord? He’s a Doctor, and curing me o’ the Palpitation o’ the Heart, falling sickness, Convulsions in the Eyes, and other such distempers. A Doctor? A Quack by his false medicines; shortly we shall see him mount the Stage, or stand at the Old Exchange, and cry a Cure for your Horns, a Cure for your Horns. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act I, p. 24]

Still more surprising is Bellguard’s own reaction to these insults, for he ironically exclaims: “I am glad to see you so Pleasant, Madam” (p. 24). This reaction is disconcerting, bearing in mind that Bellguard goes further than his Spanish counterpart in safeguarding his sister’s honour, and does not allow her to speak to anyone when she goes out to the theatre, or to have good-looking servants in her house (p. 22). In this, he counts on the help of Aunt. Despite everything, however, these struggles for freedom always end up channelled into the normality of matrimony.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

The situation of women, both in the original plays and, especially, in the translations, reflects the way they were viewed by the men of the time. A clear example is the “woman as wife”, described in The Adventures…by the droll Diego: “There’s no Cook, nor Dry-Nurse like a Wife” (p.  128). In No siempre…, Carlos starts a pejorative comment on women: “Todas sois...” (p. 167), and Don Julio completes it in the translation: “All her sex are devils” (Elvira, or…, p. 461). This is preceded by the views of the droll and his master about love DIEGO: Eso de servir un hombre en ausencia a otra mujer, es licencia concedida al amante más fiel. GINÉS: Lo mismo hacen ellas.

[No siempre..., Jornada I, p. 95]

Here ladies are typified as unfaithful, while in El astrólogo... Morón describes them as gossips “es ley en las mujeres / contaras cuanto supieres” (p. 234). In this case the saying proves true, as Beatriz is incapable of keeping her mistress’s secret; Violante, however, believes such behaviour should be excused, since it only occurs in imitation of men: “¿Pues qué hemos de ser nosotras / si ellos mismos nos enseñan?” (p. 233). Maskall, too, in An Evening’s Love, thinks that women speak too much, an opinion shared by Bellguard: “Women by Women still are best betray’d” (Sir Courtly…, p. 306). The most critical attacks on the condition of women, though, are in No puede ser…, which is not dealt with here. Tarugo wonders: “Ought Women to have any other Understanding than good Husbandry?” (Tarugo’s Wiles, p. 1), and Patricio affirms that he heard the droll make the following comment: “It was as equally difficult to make Women in love with Chastity, as to persuade English Quakers to study Heraldry” (ibid., p. 7). Bellguard is far more extreme (Sir Courtly Nice), declaring that few women can be trusted as the world is “a great Brothel” (p. 25) in which mothers corrupt their daughters, when not the other way round (p. 28). There is thus a greater degree of male chauvinism in the English texts. Obviously, the further the translations stray from the original texts, the more they are likely to be influenced by the fashions of Restoration comedy. Ladies in Restoration drama are much more daring in their conduct and comments, and on occasions reflect a society in which there was a certain sexual freedom, with quite a liberal code for men and also for women, for whom extramarital sexual experi-



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

ences might at times be as commonplace as they were for men15. It is not surprising, therefore, that the latest translation, and the one that has the most newly created characters and scenes (that is Sir Courtly Nice), is the most blatant in its references to the condition of women, and at the same time the most liberal as regards women’s conduct. This is evident in the dialogue between Violante and her future husband, Bellguard: VIOLANTE: Promise I shall enjoy all and singular the Privileges, Liberties and Immunities of an English Wife. BELLGUARD: All. VIOLANTE: That is to say, ramble, rant, game, dress, visit, prate, ogle, kiss… and… BELLGUARD: Hold… hold… whither the Devil is she running? Kiss… kiss and stop for Heaven’s sake. VIOLANTE: Kiss, and before your Face, is not the Prerogative of an English Wife? Surly, I owe you a Reward for Service, kiss me. [Sir Courtly Nice, Act V, p. 104]

Violante has no qualms at provoking Bellguard by asking another man for a kiss (Surly, who is not even of noble birth), in his presence. Although this never actually happens, and Bellguard, offended, is ready to draw his sword, it is hard to find a similar scene in the Spanish texts, as Violante’s conduct is an affront to the most prized virtue of a gentleman: his honour. 6.3 Honour BELLAMY: Will you in, Sir? MELCHIOR: No, Sir, ‘tis not for my Honour, to be assisting to you; I’ll to Don Alonzo, and help to revenge the Injury you are doing him. […] WILDBLOOD: Nay, and you talk of Honour, by your leave, Sir, I hate your Spanish Honour ever since it spoil’d our English Plays. [An Evening’s Love, Act V, p. 370]

This is how Dryden expresses his antipathy to one of the mainstays of the Spanish comedies that were triumphing at that time in England. In the second act of An 15. Such liberal attitudes do not reflect everyday life. Loftis (1996: 35) concludes that the Restoration was perhaps the most conservative period in English history as regards sexual permissiveness. It must be concluded that Restoration theatre presents a partial and restricted view of English life at that time. Nor was Spanish comedy a faithful reflection of the society of the period; rather, as Beatriz wittily notes in El astrólogo..., comedies favour the poor and deride the rich, which is a “notable impropiedad” (Jornada I, p. 226).

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

Evening’s Love, Bellamy announces his disgust at certain aspects of the Spanish genre: “As for Piques, Jealousies, Duels, Daggers, and Halters, I let ‘em alone to the Vulgar” (p. 306). It is hardly surprising, then, that one of the subplots of Calderón’s original comedy, which revolves around the honour of Doña María, is much less prominent in the English translation. We have seen how honour is an impediment for the amorous inclinations of certain ladies; since it is a driving force in the comedia, it is always present in the originals. In the target texts it does not disappear; indeed, the word “honour” occurs more frequently than does honor in the original comedies: in Los empeños..., honor is used twenty two times, as against more than fifty occurrences of “honour” in The Adventures…; in No siempre… twenty seven as against thirty nine in Elvira, or…. These figures should, however, be treated with caution as honor and honour are not always equivalents, and confusion may arise. First of all, a distinction has to be made between honor, the social category, and honra, which concerns the reputation of the individual. The protagonists of Spanish comedies are all nobles, and so problems of honour do not derive from their status; the dramatic conflict is due to rivalry between beaux (Don Carlos and Don Diego in No siempre…; Don Octavio and Don César in Los empeños...), or the confrontation between a suitor and the authority of the family, represented by the lady’s father or brother (No puede ser…, El astrólogo...). The honour of a whole family may be affected by the inappropriate conduct of a woman, whether daughter or sister: her clandestine correspondence with a suitor (Doña Beatriz in No siempre…), possession of a gentleman’s portrait (Doña Inés en No puede ser…), or a declaration of love from a beau who is not acceptable to the father or a brother, (and even less so if he is poor, as Don Juan in El astrólogo...). One false step is enough to bring honour into question, for, as Doña María remarks in El astrólogo..., “un hombre, con sólo hablar / es más (¡qué fácil deshonra!) / bastante a quitar la honra” (Jornada I, p. 226). In the English comedies “honour” covers both concepts, honor and honra, as well as other meanings present in the target texts: it may mean “privilege” (to have the honour to do something); “pleasure” (to have the honour to know someone), “pride” (the honour of the country); or it may be used as a form of oath (I swear upon my honour), etc. The fact that the English term occurs more frequently does not necessarily mean, therefore, that the subject of honour is given more importance in the translations, but reflects its greater polysemy with respect to its “equivalent”. In The Idea of Honour in the English Drama 1591–1700, Barber concludes that throughout the seventeenth century the word was employed as a synonym of: (a) nobility of class; (b) social rank and (c) purity (only applicable to women). He notes a total of twelve different meanings of “honour”, three of which are essential to Siglo de Oro cloak and dagger comedy: “chastity and purity”, “distinction” and “set of unwritten laws” (1957: 46). Barber also observes in his analysis a significant



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

increase, from 1660 onwards, of the use of the term “honour” within theatrical dialogue, but restricted, curiously, to the comic genre (ibid.: 330). He suggests three explanations for this. First, a change towards a more aristocratic audience during the Restoration; since honour was the prerogative of the upper classes, it is not surprising that there was greater interest in a code of conduct that, in part, was reproduced outside the world of the theatre. Then, a change in the attitude of this social group which, anxious to distance itself from the middle classes and from the influence of Puritanism, wished for a type of justice exclusive to those of its rank, and inspired precisely in this code of honour; Barber believes that this is reflected in the frequency with which the phrase “man of honour” (hardly ever employed in England until this time) is repeated in theatrical works (ibid.: 334). Finally, the greater presence of “honour” in English drama after 1660 may also be due in part to the influence of foreign literature, in some cases through imitation of a code of honour that was widespread in the Europe of the time, and which might have come from France to England, where the word honneur would immediately be identified with “honour”; in others, through certain ideals of conduct in the Mediterranean countries (duels for example), which had inspired many English Renaissance works that now appeared as revivals; and in still others due to the playwrights’ desire to reproduce the customs of other cultures to give a touch of colour to their creations, especially those in which the action took place in a foreign country. As regards the constant presence of honour in the translations of Spanish comedies, it would be difficult for Barber to propose one specific reason; he might incline towards the desire to give them a certain air of the exotic, at least in the case of the four plays that take place in Spain, as he does not contemplate translation as one of the reasons. Whether for the reasons mentioned above or because the translator wished to stick to the source text, the fact is that the three concepts Barber identifies with honour, that is, “reputation”, “rank” and “chastity”, are present in all the works studied here, both the originals and their translations: 6.3.1 Honour as reputation It is the duty of the pater familiæ to uphold the reputation of the family unit, which would be seriously damaged by dishonourable activity on the part of the women of the house. One therefore understands the anxiety of Don Enrique when he suspects that his sister has endangered the honourability of his lineage: ENR: Ea, cierta es mi desdicha: HEN: My shame is certain: ah! the sad condition mi hermana mi honor agravia, of us Men of Honour! How unequally por una hermana sin honra our Crosses, and our Comforts mingled are! ¡o mal merecida infamia! Our Orphan Sisters are no sooner grown… [Los empeños..., II, p. 118] [The Adventures..., Act III, p. 86]

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

There are two cases of this situation in No siempre…: Don Juan Roca sees a man leaving his house and fears the worst, while Don Pedro heads for Valencia to restore his honour, blemished by his daughter’s flight in the company of a gentleman: El señor don Pedro de Lara, Don Pedro de Mendoza, my kinsman, and most mi pariente y amigo, va a esa particular friend, goes to Valencia in pursuit of ciudad en seguimiento de un one who hath highly injured his family: whose hombre, de quien importa su righting I am so much concerned in. honor satisfacerse. [Elvira, or…, Act III, p. 461] [No siempre…, II, p. 120]

The situation may sometimes become more complicated when a gentleman has to satisfy his honour on different fronts. In the same work the demands of honour face Don Juan with the multiple dilemma of meeting the requirements of Leonor, his cousin, of old Don Pedro and finally his own: JUAN: No sé a qué me determino: de Leonor, porque es mujer; de vos, porque sois mi primo; por el marqués, de don Pedro; y de mi honor, por mí mismo. ¿Qué puedo hacer? [No siempre…, II, p. 125]

JUL: You must consider with a fair reflection, that in this place are all my chief relations of blood and friendship; and though neither shall have power t’exempt me from serving you in any just pretension, yet you know that men of honour ever ought to seek how to comply with one duty, without violating another. [Elvira, or…, Act III, p. 86]

It can be seen from these three examples that the original meaning is not lost in the translation. Sometimes the gentleman blames himself for this loss of honour, for as Don Pedro affirms in No puede ser…, “que las mujeres que vemos / livianas, no es por su industria, / sino descuido del dueño” (p. 189). Despite this, if the gentleman discovers a dishonourable act that involves his daughter or sister, there are only two roads of action open to him: ENR: Este achaque de tu honor, HEN: Honour obliges me to take revenge. que va caminando a infamia, CAR: Honour is justice, rightly understood. o se alivie en el remedio, Your Idol Honour’s only heat of blood. o se ataje la venganza HEN: Honour’s Opinion, which rules all the World. [Los empeños..., II, p. 119] [The Adventures..., Act III, p. 88]

These two alternatives are well defined in the words of Enrique: marriage or revenge. In the translation of this extract Don Carlos intervenes, and tries to calm Don Enrique who, nevertheless, makes his intention clear. In the four Spanish plays the marriage option is chosen, but although the wedding always entails the happiness of the couple involved, this is not the motive for



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

the decision of the father or brother, which is due rather to a selfish desire to protect their own good name. In El astrólogo..., old Leonardo immediately gives the hand of his daughter to Don Juan so as not to prolong the situation: “Que de mi honor las sospechas / todas satisfechas queden” (p. 265). Although Dryden changes this ending, the other translators maintain the self-seeking decisions of fathers and brothers. In No siempre… and in its translation Don Pedro seeks only to restore his honour, irrespective of the means used to do so: PEDRO: No me digas nada, que como mi honor restaure, en albricias de esta dicha perdono tantos pesares. [No siempre…, III, p. 177]

D. PED: So honour be but safe; the less they have the more will be her penance for her folly. But should don Zancho [...] prove so insolent as to reject marriage, then I trust... [Elvira, or…, Act V, p. 475]

The same is true of Los empeños... and its adaptation, The Adventures…, where Enrique/Henrique, disconcerted by the course of events and without knowing for certain whether their honour has been stained, pursue a single aim, showing their relief when it is confirmed that their honour has suffered no affront: ENR: ¡Ay confusión más extraña! HEN: But if by my own sense, I am assured […] Mas si la misma experiencia my Honour’s safe, which was so much in doubt, muestra que mi honor vive what matter is it how ‘tis brought about? viva aunque yo no lo entienda. [The Adventures..., Act IV, p. 118] [Los empeños..., III, p. 130]

Don Pedro shares this utilitarian concept of honour, valuing it higher, even, than economic considerations; he demonstrates this when he looks for a husband for his sister, as, once she is married, it will be his responsibility to safeguard her honour and he will be free of his obligations: la pide,] PED: Que don Diego de Rojas me PAT: I should not expose you to the y aunque no es rico, cuando el riesgo temptations of the world, and since ‘tis for

la descomodidad y la deshonra [mide the ease of my mind, and preservation of your

no hay más comodidades que la honra. honour, you ought to be less dissatisfied. [No puede ser…, II, p. 196] [Tarugo’s Wiles, Act I, p. 2]

In both cases, the better or worse position of the husband takes second place to the desires of Don Pedro/Patricio to put an end to the nightmarish responsibility of being guardian of the family honour. In this respect, Crowne’s translation, unlike Sydserf ’s, once again distances itself from the original, as Bellguard does indeed look for a fiancé with prospects for his daughter: Sir Courtly Nice. In fact, his reputation as regards women is not a matter of concern for the father. The decisions of Bellguard, who, as we have seen, is extremely strict at some moments,

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

continually disconcert us, as in the example above, or in the attitude he adopts when he discovers a clue to the dishonour of his daughter (the portrait of Don Félix): Don Pedro (No puede ser…) and Patricio (Tarugo’s…) draw their dagger without hesitation; Bellguard retreats, especially after the insolent interjection of Doña Inés, who treats his find as a joke, exclaiming: “Do, kill me before you know whether he’s guilty or no” (p. 52). 6.3.2 Honour as social rank The category of a noble in the social hierarchy suffices in itself for him to defend his honour: “Noble soy, Don Juan, y sobre / ser noble estoy ofendido” (No siempre…, Jornada II, p. 122). This circumstance often conflicts with his feelings towards a friend or for his beloved, complicating the situation even more; such is the case of Don César (Los empeños...): after falling in love with Porcia at first sight he had to choose between love and honour, opting for the second, given his obligations in the army of Flanders (p. 108). Once in Seville, he faces the dilemma of defending Porcia’s honour or keeping his promise always to support his friend Octavio (p.134); luckily, the conflict is resolved without him having to take sides. Tuke reproduces both situations in his translation. Don Carlos (No siempre…) also vaunts his noble condition and although he encounters someone in disguise in his sweetheart’s room, puts his duty (to leave the lady safe) before his feelings; Don Fernando in Elvira, or … does just the same: CARL: Yo, don Juan, traigo conmigo FER: I come to mind you of honour, not of love:

a esta dama, a quien tengo mine can protection seek from none but yours. de salvar la vida a costa [Elvira, or…, Act I, p. 449] de todos mis sentimientos. [No siempre…, I, p. 78]

Both Don Carlos and his counterpart Don Fernando are capable of renouncing the woman they love so that she can recover her honour by marrying another man: CARL: Que ya, Leonor, que te pierdo FER: Elvira shall her dear bliss owe to me, quiero ver si tu honor gano. not only by desisting, but by making [No siempre…, III, p. 166] her lov’d don Zancho marry her. [Elvira, or…, Act V, p. 470]

It is not only the gentlemen who vaunt their honour in questions of nobility; Doña María in El astrólogo... says: “Que tengo honor, que soy noble” (p. 229), a comment that disappears in the English text.



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

6.3.3 Honour as a synonym of chastity Although in Golden Age drama a woman’s honour may be understood in a sexual sense, as a synonym of virginity, it was usually applied to the virtue and modesty expected of a lady of high social position who, as such, should not maintain contacts with any beau. There is a clear example of the first of these interpretations in Los empeños..., when Porcia is taken prisoner by a Dutch colonel and stoutly defends her honour. This scene is preserved in the translation, though with more dramatic overtones16: POR: Y entonces noble y honrada CAM: Grown faint with crying out and striving, entre desmayos, y esfuerzos, I spied a dagger by the Villain’s side, mujer en no persuadirme, which snatching boldly out, as my last refuge, hombre en durarme el aliento, with his own Arms wounded the Savage Beast, con flaqueza para el llanto, He, at the stroke, unseized me, and gave back; con valor para el esfuerzo, [...] so guilt produces cowardice, then I, defensa intentaba en vano. the dagger pointing to my breast, cry out. [Los empeños..., I, p. 108] [The Adventures..., Act I, p. 55]

Thus does Camilla thwart her attacker’s assault on her “Virgin Treasure” (p. 55). The notion of the loss of chastity as a loss of modesty appears in all the Spanish plays: Porcia and Nise (Los empeños...) because they aspire to gentlemen other than those assigned to them; Doña Blanca (No siempre…) and Doña María (El astrólogo...) when they covertly meet their beaux at home; and Doña Inés (No puede ser…) because she keeps a portrait of her sweetheart, who she will subsequently receive in her house. Leonor (No siempre…) is a special case; her honour is doubly scorned, both for her meetings with Don Carlos and their flight, and because a stranger, the Valencian Don Diego, appears in her room. The translators faithfully reproduce all these situations, including the ladies’ lamentations over the possible consequences of their actions; for example, Elvira, forced to remain hidden after the unexpected appearance of Don Zancho in her room, exclaims: “And robb’d me of my honour there / to envy me an obscure shelter here” (p. 468). To avoid this happening, it is essential in all circumstances to keep up appearances, since the offence has no real repercussions unless it comes to light and becomes a scandal, in which case a woman may be driven to desperation, like Porcia in The Adventures… (“Oh my Honour! Oh my Innocence! Exposed to Scandal”, 16. Gaw (1917: 45) is of the opinion that the seriousness with which Tuke treats honour in his translation is not only due to a desire to remain faithful to the Spanish original. For her, it also denotes, together with other aspects such as the employment of military vocabulary or the hyperbolical use of amorous language, that the translator has been influenced by the formula of “heroic play”, the novel genre that counted on many enthusiasts in English dramaturgy of the time.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

p. 99), or may provoke the ironic comments of her maid, such as those of Beatriz in El astrólogo...: BEATRIZ:

Ved lo que en el mundo pasa, y qué es honor; por no hablalle, con escándalo en la calle, le entramos dentro de casa.

[El astrólogo..., Jornada I, p. 234]

Marriage to those responsible for the offence guarantees that the ladies’ honour will no longer be open to question; this is true in the originals and translations alike (with the exception, already noted, of An Evening’s…). Finally, having seen the three kinds of honour present in the comedies under study, we should also mention a small group of examples in which honour becomes an object of mockery for certain characters, especially the servants, and always in the Spanish texts. As Beatriz warns Ginés: BEATRIZ: ¡Ay de ti, pobre Ginés si otro escribiera de ti que en Madrid descalabrado mi casto honor ofendías!

[No siempre..., Jornada I, p. 87]

This comment is doubly humorous: on the one hand, the maid, due to her social position, has no honour anyway, and on the other, her condition does not require her to defend it as strongly as if she were a lady. On other occasions laughter is provoked by the double morality with which the subject of honour is treated; in this respect the reaction of Morón (El astrólogo...) when he learns of the nocturnal encounters of Doña María is enlightening: MORÓN:

¿Mas éste es el santo honor que tan caro nos vendía? Cuántas con honor de día, y de noche con amor, habrá con puerta cerrada pañuelo, Beatriz, zaguán, jardín, ventana y don Juan?.

[El astrólogo..., Jornada I, p. 235]

It is not surprising, then, that Morón later exclaims: “Este honor me ha de matar / ¡mas qué cosa tan cansada / es una mujer honrada!” (p. 238). This humorous treatment of honour by the servants and drolls is not accepted by the translators, who do not reproduce it in their creations.



Chapter 6.  The translation of the typical comedia motifs 

The word “honour”, corresponding to the Spanish honor, honra or other meanings, appears more often in the translations than in the originals; in other English works of the time the scenes in which it is inserted are not radically different from those in other Restoration comedies or in the source texts. Its recurrence in the translated works is due to the susceptibility with which the subject of honour is treated by the Spanish characters. The translators had the advantage that the sense of honour and justice prevalent in the Spanish plays was perfectly compatible with that of their own culture. Honour appears as more important than love in the development of the plot, both in the original and the target texts, since, although the couples finally attain the happiness they seek, this is subject to a greater imperative: that a father or brother should see his honour restored. Independently of the dramatic protocols of each country, we are presented in their theatres with certain problems of the society of the time, such as the absurdity of sexual roles, man’s choice of a spouse, honour..., all in a space that does not go beyond a house or a street. Although it was a truth distorted by the filter of the theatre, or a “verdad bajo el engaño de las apariencias” (Bobes Naves 2000: 441), it was perfectly intelligible to the English and Spanish audiences, and so the translators experienced little difficulty in expressing it in their work.

afterword

The comedia revisited New challenges in the twenty-first century

Until relatively recently, translation scholars had paid hardly any attention to Spanish classical theatre. Although over the last few years hundreds of publications have focused on the authors of the Spanish Siglo de Oro, and many playwrights of the period are the subject of theses, papers and articles published outside Spain, many Hispanists have remarked that seventeenth century Spanish theatre is still largely unknown for English directors, critics and the general public. This has been attributed to a variety of factors, some blaming the insular nature of the English and their long theatrical tradition and others the historical isolation of Spanish culture. Nonetheless, there is no doubt that one of the main reasons why Spanish playwrights are hardly known outside academic circles is the paucity of translation activity. It was not until the twentieth century that translation into English of Spanish Golden Age drama reached its peak, although at the end of the previous century E. Fitzgerald and D. F. MacCarthy had put into English much of the work of Calderón. Even taking into account the translations, the language, rhetoric and conventions of these pieces have not aroused the interest of directors or audiences, and in many cases the resulting works stand out for their literary value rather than for their staging possibilities. This situation is not applicable to other countries, less reticent than the British to performing theatre in translation. In Spain, for example, the adaptation of non-Spanish works seems to have been the rule, and performances of foreign works equalled or exceeded those of national ones, as Merino has noted (1994a: 30; the translation is mine): “The presence of translated drama and literature in general has been, and still is, a fact in our country. During the second half of the century [twentieth] we have witnessed a constant flow of foreign plays which has contributed, to a higher or lower extent and season after season, to the total volume of theatre in Spain, both in performance and publication”. The new millennium, however, has seen a trend towards an increase in national productions in Spain at the expense of foreign ones1. 1. On the programme of the Community of Madrid for 2002 there was a total number of 286 new plays performed, of which 198 were by Spanish authors or authors writing in Spanish. This

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

We can affirm with confidence that at the start of this new century conditions are ideal for the staging of Spanish seventeenth century playwrights in English. With exceptions, academic versions are giving way to texts for the stage2, and most translators are now working with a view to seeing their works performed3. This is much easier to achieve when the translator or director already has a name in the world of theatre, as this obviously helps attract more people to the performances. Hence the trend now towards networking, or collaboration between translator, director and, where possible, the original author, which is common practice at, for example, the Royal Court Theatre or the Royal National Theatre in Great Britain In those cases where the person responsible for the adaptation does not know Spanish (Mitchell is one of the most famous examples), it is common practice to use a literal translation of the original by an unknown translator (one of the socalled “literals”), as the basis for the work of a famous adaptor. Although this practice accentuates the distancing of the target text with respect to its source, it is also true that it propitiates the creation of more agile and natural dialogues, which is, in the end, the aim of performable translation. Apart from this, several institutions and bodies are offering more support than ever to theatre translators. In 1998, the European Union gave the go-ahead to its Ariane Literary Network, an ambitious project that aims to encourage literary translation, including that of the theatre. Noteworthy in England are the Channels Project of the Royal National Theatre, involved in the staging of foreign drama, and the commitment of the Gate Theatre to devote its theatre hall to the performance of theatre in translation. In the United States the Theater Communications Group, for instance, is working hard to encourage the publication in English of theatre translations. The announcement of prizes for dramatic translations is another attractive initiative. An example is the Translation Award that the Gate

tendency to perform Spanish works has been repeated in subsequent years (Source: Centro de Documentación Teatral de Madrid). 2. A contemporary example is the bilingual edition of Porfiar hasta morir, in a prose translation by Antonio Cortijo, among others. Published by the University of Navarre, is the first translation into English of this work by Lope de Vega. 3. Although some publishers prefer to bring out comedies in translation, as is the case with Methuen and Nick Hern (Great Britain) or Samuel French and Dramatists Play Service (United States), this is unusual.  www.intranslation.com, does, however, offer the possibility of incorporating into its database performed texts that do not have a version on paper. In the United States, The US Theatrical Translation Database and the American Theater Translation Project are working in the same direction.



The comedia revisited 

Theatre convokes every two years. The winner not only has his work published, but also sees it performed at this theatre4. It would seem, therefore, that the twenty-first century could hardly be getting off to a better start; the Royal Shakespeare Company has played its part by organising its own festival of Spanish Classical Theatre, which, under the title “Spanish Golden Age Season”, has travelled round the country. Four works were performed in new translations at Stratford-upon-Avon in 2004: El perro del hortelano, Pedro de Urdemalas, La venganza de Tamar and Los empeños de una casa. Perhaps the most striking thing about this initiative is that its success was not limited to its own country; these four works (now with Spanish supertitles) were a sell-out at the Teatro Español in Madrid during the Festival de Otoño of 2004. The RSC thus demonstrated that even the least known Spanish classical texts were strong enough to function on stage, given the right components, such as dynamic updated texts and excellent acting. It would seem that these ingredients can be found in one of the most recent production of a Spanish classic that we have heard of: as might be expected it is La vida es sueño, in New York, and on this occasion on the basis of a translation by John Clifford. The director, Kelly O’Donnell, expressed her certainty that the conflicts at the heart of the work would be perfectly comprehensible to the contemporary US spectator5. The fact that British translations are triumphing on both the American and the Spanish stage is a clear sign of the new directions in the world of contemporary theatre6, where the collaboration between translators, directors and theatre companies seems healthier than ever: if Calixto Bieito (Barcelona) directed, in English, La vida es sueño in Edinburgh back in 1989, the arrival of Boswell in Spain for the visit of the RSC to Madrid proved providential, for, after a series of contacts, the Londoner has started working as a director in Spain, and with Spanish actors and actresses: No sooner was El perro del hortelano (30th June 2007) on stage than he had a project to perform Fuente Ovejuna for the Stratford Festival of Ontario. What 4. John Clifford was one of the finalists for this prize in 2006, and for his translation of a Spanish work, in this case from the nineteenth century: Don Álvaro o la fuerza del sino, by the Duque de Rivas. 5. http://www.offoffonline.com/archives.php?id=862. At the Michael Weller Theater from 8–24 June, 2007. 6. In this respect, it is worth mentioning some recent publications that precisely deal with the arduous task of translating Spanish classics as well as with their performance possibilities, both in Great Britain and in the United States. One of them is the American journal Comedia Performance, which focuses on the modern staging of the comedia. Also relevant are the following books: The comedia in English: Translation and Performance, edited by Susan Paun de García and Donald R. Larson (2008), and The Spanish Golden Age in English: Perspectives on Performance, edited by Catherine Boyle (2008).

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700)

is more, with the Compañía Nacional de Teatro Clásico, he will shortly be presenting the tragedy Lo fingido verdadero. This is a more than promising start to a century that will surely see Siglo de Oro theatre become more international than ever.

References a. Play editions Calderón de la Barca, Pedro. 1761. El astrólogo fingido. In Comedias del célebre poeta español Don Pedro Calderón de la Barca, 6, 225–266. Madrid: Juan Fernández de Apontes. Calderón de la Barca, Pedro. 1997. No siempre lo peor es cierto, Luis G. Villaverde & L. Fariñas (eds.). Barcelona: Borrás Ediciones. Coello, Antonio. 1657. Los empeños de seis horas. In Comedias nuevas escogidas de los mejores ingenios de España, 8, Andrés García de la Iglesia (ed.), 105–136. Madrid. Crowne, John. 1735. Sir Courtly Nice, or It Cannot Be. London: W. Feales. Digby, George. 1810. Elvira, or the Worst not Always True. In The British Ancient Drama, 3, 446–477. London. Dryden, John. 1760. An Evening’s Love, or The Mock Astrologer. In The Dramatick Works of John Dryden, 2, Derrick, S. (ed.), 266–383. London: J & R Tonson. Moreto, Agustín. 1950. No puede ser el guardar una mujer. In Comedias escogidas de D. Agustín Moreto y Cabaña, Luis Fernández-Guerra & Orbe (eds.), 187–206. Madrid: Atlas. Sydserf, Thomas. 1668. Tarugo’s Wiles, or the Coffee-House. London: Henry Herringman, 1668. Tuke, Samuel. 2003. The Adventures of Five Hours, P.M.S. Hopkins (ed.). London: Ituri.

b. Other editions Bradford Hughes, Charlotte. 1966. John Crowne’s Sir Courtly Nice. The Hague & Paris: Moutin & Co. Hazlitt, W.C. (ed.). 1876. Elvira: Or, the Worst not Always True. In A Select collection of Old English Plays, 15, sp. London: 1876. Oppenheimer, Max (ed.). 1994. El astrólogo fingido. New York: Lang. Cop. Swaen, A.E.H. (ed.). 1927. “The Adventures of Five Hours”, reprinted from the folio of 1663 and the third impression of 1671. Together with Coello’s Los Empeños de Seis Horas. Amsterdam: Swets & Zeitlinger. Thal, B. Van (ed.). 1927. The Adventures of Five Hours, by Samuel Tuke. Adapted from the Spanish of an unknown play of Calderón. London: Robert Holden & Co. Ltd.

c. General Bibliography Aaltonen, Sirkku. 1996. Acculturation of the Other: Irish Milieux in Finnish Drama Translation. Joensuu: Joensuu University Press.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700) ––– 1997. “Translating Plays or Baking Apple Pies: A Functional Approach to the Study of Drama Translation.” In Translation as Intercultural Communication. Selected Papers from the EST Congress, Prague 1995, M. Snell-Hornby, Z. Jettmarová & K. Kaindl, K. (eds.), 89–97. Amsterdam & Philadelphia: John Benjamins. ––– 2000. Time-Sharing on Stage. Drama Translation in Theatre and Society. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. ––– 2002. “Research into Theatre Translation: The Challenge of an Iceberg.” Paper read at the University of Tampere. Available on the Net: http://www.uwasa.fi/hut/english/aaltonen/ challenge_of_an_iceberg.doc (last accessed: 6/2009). Allen, John J. 1986. “Los corrales de comedias y los teatros coetáneos ingleses.” Edad de Oro, 5, 5–20. ––– 2004. “Staging Shakespeare and Calderón; Comparison and Contrast.” In Shakespeare and the Mediterranean, 54–62. Newark: University of Delaware Press. Álvarez, Román & Vidal, Carmen África (eds.). 1996. Translation, Power, Subversion. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Anderman, Gunilla M. 2001. Europe on Stage: Translation and Theatre. London: Oberon Books. Arellano, Ignacio. 1999. Concepción y recepción: estudios sobre el teatro del Siglo de Oro. Madrid: Gredos. Barber, Charles L. 1957. The Idea of Honour in the English Drama 1591–1700. Gothenburg: Elanders Boktryckeri Aktiebolag. Bassnett-McGuire, Susan. 1985. “Ways through the Labyrinth. Strategies and Methods for Translating Theatre Texts.” In The Manipulation of Literature: Studies in Literary Translation, 87–102. London: Croom Helm. ––– 1991. “Translating for the Theatre: The Case Against Performability.” Traduction, Terminologie, Rédaction. Studies in the Text and its Transformations, 4, (1): 99–111. ––– 1996a [1980] Translation Studies. London & New York: Routledge. ––– 1996b. “The Meek and Mighty: Reappraising the Role of the Translator.” In Translation, Power, Subversion, R. Álvarez, & C.A. Vidal (eds.), 10–24. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Bassnett, S. & Lefevere, A. (eds.). 1998. Constructing Cultures. Essays on Literary Translation. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Bennett, H.S. 1989. English Books and Readers, 1603 to 1640: Being a Study in the History of the Book Trade in the Reigns of James I and Charles I. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bentley, Gerald Eades. 1941. The Jacobean and Caroline Stage: Dramatic Companies and Players. Oxford: The Clarendon Press. ––– 1981 “The theatre and the actors.” In The Revels History of Drama in English 1613–1660, 4, L. Potter (ed.), 71–124. London & New York: Routledge. Béziat, Florence. 1995. “Amor y silencio en El castigo del penseque.” In Tirso de Molina: del Siglo de Oro al Siglo XX: actas del coloquio internacional, 45–55. Madrid: Revista Estudios. Bobes Naves, María del Carmen. 1997 [1987] Semiología de la obra dramática. Madrid: Arco Libros. ––– 1998 [1988] Estudios de semiología del teatro. Valladolid & Madrid: Aceña & La Avispa. ––– 2001. Semiótica de la escena. Análisis comparativo de los espacios dramáticos en el teatro europeo. Madrid: Arco Libros. Bork, A.W. 1941. “Lope’s Don Lope de Cardona; a Defence of the Duke de Sessa.” Hispanic Review, 9: 348–358.



References  Boyle, Catherine (ed.). 2008. The Spanish Golden Age in English: Perspectives on Performance. London: Oberon Books. Braga Riera, Jorge. 2004. “The festival at Aranwhez, una traducción inglesa en verso a mediados del siglo XVII.” Revista Enlaces, 1: http://alfama.sim.ucm.es/revistas/revistasUCM.asp Bravo García, Antonio. 1981. “La influencia del teatro de Calderón en la comedia inglesa de la Restauración.” Nueva Conciencia, 22/23: 139–150. Broeck, Raymond van den. 1986. “Translating for the Theatre.” Linguistica Antverpiensia, 20: 96–110. Bryant, Arthur. 1961. Restoration England. London: Collins. Buesa Gómez, María del Carmen. 1984. “La traducción en España e Inglaterra (siglos XVXVII).” In Homenaje a Luis Flórez, 69, 45–56. Bogotá: Instituto Caro y Cuervo. Burner, Sandra A. 1988. James Shirley: a Study of Literary Coteries and Patronage in 17th Century England. New York: University Press of America. Capellán, Ángel. 1975. “John Dryden’s indebtedness to Pedro Calderón de la Barca in An Evening’s Love or the Mock-Astrologer.” Revue de Littérature Comparée, 49: 572–589. Carbonell i Cortés, Ovidi. 1999. Traducción y cultura. De la ideología al texto. Salamanca: Ediciones Colegio de España. Cardona Castro, Ángeles. 1996. “Recepción, incorporación y crítica de la obra calderoniana en Alemania desde 1658 a 1872.” In Teatro clásico en traducción: texto, representación, recepción, A.L. Pujante & K. Gregor (eds.), 453–463. Murcia: Universidad de Murcia. Carlson, H.G. 1964. “Problems in Play Translation.” Educational Theatre Journal, 16: 55–58. Carlson, Marvin. 1983. “The Semiotics of Character Names in the Drama.” Semiótica, 44 (3/4): 283–296. Casa, Frank P., García Lorenzo, L. & Vega García-Luengos, G. (eds.). 2002. Diccionario de la Comedia del Siglo de Oro. Madrid: Castalia. Casado, J. & Copete, A. 1989. “Equivalencias y diferencias entre la terminología teatral inglesa y la española.” In Translation across Cultures: Actas del XI Congreso AEDEAN, J.C. Santoyo (ed.), 53–57. León: Universidad. Casines, Gisela Petra. 1985. The Dramas of Restoration England and Golden Age Spain: Affinities and Correspondences. Michigan: Ann Arbor. Chamosa González, José Luis. 1987. “Estudios críticos de traducciones clásicas de clásicos españoles: una parcela reciente de los estudios comparados angloespañoles.” Estudios Humanísticos, Filología, 9: 19–30. Chiaro, Delia. 1992. The Language of Jokes. Analysing Verbal Play. London & New York: Routledge. Clark, George Norman. 1956. The Later Stuarts, 1660–1714. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Clark, Ira. 1992. Professional Playwrights: Massinger, Ford, Shirley and Brome. Kentucky: The University Press of Kentucky. Clinton-Baddeley, V.C. 1952. The Burlesque Tradition in the English Theatre after 1660. London: Butter & Tanner. Cohen, John M. 1962. English Translators and Translations. London: Longman & Green. Cohen, Walter. 1983. “Calderón in England: A Social Theory of Production and Consumption.” Bulletin of the Comediantes, 35 (1): 69–77. ––– 1985. Drama of a Nation: Public Theater in Renaissance England and Spain. London: Cornell University Press. Coletes Blanco, Agustín. 1981. “Notas sobre la introducción del teatro clásico español en Inglaterra, con especial referencia a Calderón de la Barca.” Nueva Conciencia, 22/23: 129–138.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700) Conejero, Manuel Ángel. 1973. El tema del honor en el teatro posterior a Shakespeare. Valencia: Universidad. ––– 1991. Rhetoric, Theatre and Translation. Valencia: Fundación Shakespeare de España. Cordasco, Francisco. 1953. “Spanish Influence on Restoration Drama: George Digby’s Elvira (1663?).” Revue de Littérature Comparée, 27: 93–99. Corrigan, Robert W. 1961. “Translating for Actors.” In The Craft and Context of Translation, Arrowsmith & Shattuck (eds.), 95–106. Austin: University of Texas Press. Couderc, Christophe. 1998. “La comedia de enredo y su adaptación en Francia en el siglo XVII: transformación de un género.” In La comedia de enredo. Actas de las XX Jornadas de teatro clásico de Almagro, 269–283. Almagro: Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha. Craik, T.W. (ed.). 1996. The Revels History of Drama in English 1660–1750, 5. London & New York: Routledge. Custodio, Álvaro. 1969. Lope, Calderón y Shakespeare: Comparación de dos estilos dramáticos. México: Teatro Clásico. Davidson, Peter (ed.). 1999. The Poems and Translations of Sir Richard Fanshawe. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Delabastita, Dirk. 1987. “Translating Puns. Possibilities and Restraints.” New Comparison, 3: 143–159. ––– 2003. “More Alternative Shakespeares.” In Four Hundred Years of Shakespeare in Europe, A.L. Pujante & T. Hoenselaars (eds.), 113–133. Newark: University of Delaware Press. ––– (ed.). 1996. The Translator. Studies in Intercultural Communication (Wordplay and Translation), 2 (2). Manchester: St. Jerome Publishing. Delisle, Jean & Woodsworth, Judith. 1995. Translators through History. Amsterdam & Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Dietz, Bern (ed.). 1989. Estudios literarios ingleses: la Restauración (1660–1700). Madrid: Cátedra. Diez Borque, José María & García Lorenzo, Luciano. 1975. Semiología del teatro. Barcelona: Planeta. Díez Borque, José María (ed.). 1989. Actor y técnica de representación del teatro clásico español. London: Tamesis Books. Dixon, Víctor. 1989. “Arte nuevo de traducir comedia en este tiempo: hacia una versión inglesa de Fuenteovejuna.” Cuadernos de Teatro Clásico, 4: 11–25. ––– (ed.) 1981. El perro del hortelano. London: Tamesis Books. ––– (ed.) 1991. Fuenteovejuna. Warminster: Aris & Philips. Dryden, John. 1939. [1668] “An Essay of Dramatick Poesie.” In Dramatic Poesy and Other Essays, E. Rhys (ed.), 1–59. London & New York: Everyman’s Library. Edwards, Gwynne. 1989. “La traducción de textos clásicos españoles al inglés.” Cuadernos de Teatro Clásico, 4: 27–43. Edwards, Philips. 1981. “Society and the theatre.” In The Revels History of Drama in English 1613–1660, 4, L. Potter (ed.), 3–67. Espasa Borrás, Eva. 2000. “Performability in Translation: Speakability? Playability? or Just Saleability?” In Moving Target. Theatre Translation and Cultural Relocation, Carole-Anne Upton (ed.), 49–62. Manchester: St Jerome Publishing. ––– 2001. La traducció dalt de l’escenari. Vic: Eumo Editorial. Espinal, María Teresa. 1989–91. “Sobre la traducción de los nombres propios.” Cuadernos de Traducción e Interpretación, 11/12: 73–93. Evelyn, John. 1907. The Diary of John Evelyn. London: Everyman’s library.



References  Farrell, Joseph. 1996. “Servant of many Masters.” In Stages of Translation, D. Johnston (ed.), 45–55. Bath: Absolute Classics. Fernández Álvarez, Manuel. 1951. Tres embajadores de Felipe II en Inglaterra. Madrid: Instituto Jerónimo Zurita. Fernández Rodríguez, Áurea. 1996. “La comedia clásica traducida: su recepción en Francia y España.” In Teatro clásico en traducción: texto, representación, recepción, L. Pujante & K. Gregor (eds.), 375–380. Murcia: Universidad. Fothergill-Payne, P. (ed.) 1991. Parallel lives: Spanish and English National Drama, 1580–1680. Lewisburg: Bucknell University Press; London: Associated University Presses. Frame, Donald M. 1989. “Pleasures and Problems of Translation.” In The Craft of Translation, J. Biguenet. & R. Schulte (eds.), 70–92. Franco Aixelá, Javier. 1996. “Culture-specific Items in Translation.” In Translation, Power, Subversion, R. Álvarez, R. & C.A. Vidal (eds.), 52–78. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. ––– 2000. La traducción condicionada de los nombres propios (inglés-español). Madrid: Ediciones Almar. Franzbach, Martin. 1982. El teatro de Calderón en Europa. Madrid: Fundación Universitaria Española. ––– 1999. “La recepción de la comedia en la Europa de lengua alemana del siglo XVII.” In La comedia española y el teatro europeo del siglo XVII, H.W. Sullivan [et al.] (eds.), 175–185. London: Tamesis Books. Galván, Fernando. 2003. “Translating the English Classics.” The European English Messenger, XII (1): 11–15. Ganelin, C. & Mancing, H. (eds.). 1994. The Golden Age Comedia: Text, Theory and Performance. West Lafayette (Indiana): Pardue University Press. García Barrientos, José Luis. 2001. Cómo se comenta una obra de teatro. Madrid: Síntesis. García Gómez, Ángel. 1999. “Sir Richard Fanshawe y Querer por sólo querer de Antonio Hurtado de Mendoza: el cómo y el porqué de una traducción.” In La comedia española y el teatro europeo del siglo XVII, W. Sullivan, A. Galoppe & L. Stoutz (eds.), 120–142. London: Tamesis Books. Galoppe, A. & Stoutz, L. (eds.). 2000. La comedia española y el teatro europeo del siglo XVII. London: Tamesis Books. García Lorenzo, Luciano (ed.). 2005. La construcción de un personaje: el gracioso. Madrid: Fundamentos. García Yebra, Valentín. 1989a [1982] Teoría y práctica de la traducción. Madrid: Gredos. ––– 1989b [1983] En torno a la traducción. Madrid: Gredos. ––– 1994. Traducción: Historia y teoría. Madrid: Gredos. Gaw, Allison. 1917. “Tuke’s Adventures of Five Hours, in relation to the ‘Spanish plot’ and to John Dryden.” Studies in English Drama, I: 1–61. Gentzler, Edwin. 2001 [1993] Contemporary Translation Theories. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters. Gitlitz, David. 1989. “Confesiones de un traductor.” Cuadernos de Teatro Clásico, 4: 45–52. González, Ángel [et al.] (eds.). 1986. Estudios sobre el Siglo de Oro en homenaje a Raymond R. MacCurdy. Madrid: Cátedra. Gooch, Steve. 1996. “Fatal Attraction.” In Stages of Translation, D. Johnston (ed.), 13–22. Bath: Absolute Classics. Gorp, Hendrik van. 1985. “Translation and Literary Genre.” In The Manipulation of Literature: Studies in Literary Translation, 136–148. London: Croom Helm.

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700) Gosse, Edmund. 1888. James Shirley. London: The Mermaid Series. Gostand, Reba. 1980. “Verbal and Non-Verbal Communication: Drama as Translation.” In The Languages of Theatre: Problems in the Translation and Transposition of Drama, O. Zuber. (ed.), 1–9. Greg, Walter Wilson. 1970. A Bibliography of the English Printed Drama to the Restoration. London: The Bibliographical Society. Griffith, Tom (ed.). 1977. The Concise Pepys. Hertfordshire: Wordsworth editions. Hall, Edward T. 1966. The Hidden Dimension. New York: Doubleday Company. Hamberg, L. 1969. “Some Practical Considerations Concerning Dramatic Translation.” Babel, XV (2): 91–94. Harbage, Alfred. 1989. Annals of English Drama, 975–1700. London: Routledge. Harvey, Keith. 1995. “A Descriptive Framework for Compensation.” The Translator. Studies in Intercultural Communication, 1 (1): 65–86. Hatim, Basil. 1997. Communication Across Cultures: Translation Theory and Contrastive Text Linguistics. Exeter: University of Exeter Press. Hatim, B. & Mason, I. 1990. Discourse and the Translator. New York: Longman. Hermans, Theo. 1988. “On Translating Proper Names, with reference to De Witte and Max Havelaar.” In Modern Dutch Studies. Essays in Honour of Peter King, Michael Wintle (ed.), 11–24. London: Athlone Press. ––– (ed.). 1985. The Manipulation of Literary Studies in Literary Translation. London: Croom Helm. Hesse, Everett W. 1994. “El redescubrimiento de la comedia en el siglo veinte.” In Encuentros y desencuentros de culturas: desde la Edad Media al siglo XVIII, Actas IRVINE 92, XI (3), 317–322. Hidalgo, Pilar [et al.]. 1988. Historia crítica del teatro inglés. Alcoy: Marfil. Honig, Edwin. 1971. “En torno a las traducciones de Calderón.” Arbor, LXXX: 21–30. Horn-Monval, Madeleine. 1963. Répertoire bibliographique des traductions et adaptations francaises du théâtre étranger du XV siècle a nos jours. Paris: Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique. Huerta Calvo, Javier. 1995. El nuevo mundo de la risa. Estudios sobre el teatro breve y la comicidad en los Siglos de Oro. Palma de Mallorca: Olañeta. ––– 2001. El teatro breve en la Edad de Oro. Madrid: Laberinto. ––– (ed.) 2003. Historia del teatro español. Madrid: Gredos. Huerta Calvo, J., Peral Vega, E. & Urzáiz Tortajada, H. (eds.). 2002. Calderón en Europa. Madrid: Iberoamericana. Hume, Martin. 1964. Spanish Influence on English Literature. New York: Haskell House. Hume, Robert D. 1976. The Development of English: Drama in the Late Seventeenth Century. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Hurtado Albir, Amparo. 2001. Traducción y traductología. Introducción a la traductología. Madrid: Cátedra. Jänis, M. 1996. “What Translators of Plays Think About Their Work.” Target 8 (2): 341–364. Johnston, David. 1996. “Las terribles aduanas: fortuna de Lope de Vega, Calderón de la Barca y Tirso de Molina en inglés.” In Teatro clásico en traducción: texto, representación, recepción, L. Pujante & K. Gregor (eds.), 89–98. Murcia: Universidad de Murcia. ––– (ed.) 1996. Stages of Translation. Bath: Absolute Classics. Joyce, J. 1990. “Literary Translation from Spanish into English: the Translation of Culture-Specific Terms.” Estudios Humanísticos, Filología, 11: 43–59.



References  Katan, David. 1999. Translating Cultures. Manchester: St. Jerome Publishing. Kirschner, T. J. 1993. “El discurso sexual como subversión del amor idealizado en el teatro histórico-nacional de Lope de Vega.” In Actas del II Congreso Internacional de Hispanistas del Siglo de Oro, 549–559. Salamanca: Ediciones Universidad de Salamanca. Kitagaki, M. 1981. Principles and Problems of Translation in Seventeenth Century England. Kyoto: Yamaguchi Shoten. Labarre, Françoise & Labarre, Roland (eds.). 1983. El vergonzoso en palacio, by Tirso de Molina. Paris: Aubier. Lafarga, Francisco (ed.). 1996. El discurso sobre la traducción en la historia: antología bilingüe. Barcelona: EUB. Lafarga, F. & Dengler, R. (eds.). 1995. Teatro y traducción. Barcelona: Universidad Pompeu Fabra. Lambert, José. 1997. “Itamar Even-Zohar’s Polysystem Studies: An Interdisciplinary Perspective on Culture Research.” Canadian Review of Comparative Literature, XXIV (1): 7–14. Available on the Net: http://itamarez.ifrance.com/ps/ps_bib.htm (last accessed: 6/2009). Lambert, Sheila. 1992. “State Control of the Press in Theory and Practice: The Role of the Stationers’ Company before 1640.” In Censorship and the Control of Print in England and France, 1600–1910, R. Myers & M. Harris (eds.), 1–32. Winchester: St Paul’s Bibliographies. Lancaster, H.C. 1966. A History of French Dramatic Literature in the Seventeenth Century. New York: Gordian Press. Larra, Mariano José de. 1961 [1836]. “De las traducciones.” In Artículos completos, M. Almagro San Martín (ed.), 663–669. Madrid: Aguilar. Larson, D.R. 1977. The Honor Plays of Lope de Vega. Cambridge, Massachusetts & London: Harvard University Press. Latham, R. & Matthews, W. (eds.). 1970. The Diary of Samuel Pepys. London: Bell & Hyman Limited. Lefevere, André. 1984. “Refraction: Some Observations on the Occasion of Wole Soyinka’s Opera Wonyosi.” In Page to Stage. Theatre as Translation, O. Zuber (ed.), 191–198. Amsterdam & Atlanta: Editions Rodopi B. V. Lefevere, André & Bassnett, Susan (eds.). 1990. Translation, History and Culture. London & New York: Pinter Publishers. Link, Frank H. 1980. “Translation, Adaptation and Interpretation of Dramatic Texts.” In Problems in the Translation and Transposition of Drama, O. Zuber (ed.), 24–50. Oxford: Pergamon Press. Link, Frederick M. 1976. English Drama, 1660–1800. Detroit: Gale Research Co. Lobato, María Luisa. 2003. “Moreto.” In Historia del teatro español, J. Huerta Calvo (ed.), 1181– 1205. Madrid: Gredos. Loftis, John. 1973. The Spanish Plays of Neoclassical England. New Haven & London: Yale University Press. ––– 1987. Renaissance Drama in England and Spain: Topical Allusion and History Plays. New Jersey: Princeton University Press. ––– 1996. “The social and literary context.” In The Revels History of Drama in English 1660–1750, 5, T. W. Craik (ed.), 3–80. ––– 1999. “La comedia española en la Inglaterra del siglo XVII.” In La comedia española y el teatro europeo del siglo XVII, H.W. Sullivan [et al.] (eds.), 101–117. London: Tamesis Books.

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 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700) Estébanez Calderón, Demetrio. 1999. Diccionario de términos literarios. Madrid: Alianza. Huerta Calvo, Javier & Urzáiz Tortajada, Héctor (eds.). 2002. Diccionario de personajes de Calderón. Madrid: Pliegos. Oxford Concise Dictionary of Literary Terms. 2004. Oxford: OUP. Pavis, Patrice. 1998. Diccionario del teatro. Dramaturgia, estética, semiología. Barcelona: Paidós Ibérica. Portillo, Rafael. 1986. Diccionario inglés-español, español-inglés de terminología teatral. Madrid: Fundamentos. Martínez Kleiser, Luis (compilator). 1989. Refranero general ideológico español. Madrid: Editorial Hernando. Shuttleworth, Mark & Cowie, Moira. 1997. Dictionary of Translation Studies. Manchester: St Jerome. The Oxford English Dictionary. 1989. Oxford: Clarendon Press.

Index A Aaltonen, Sirkku  8, 25, 31, 33, 171, 174 acculturation  26 adaptation  9, 11, 12, 25, 28–33, 44, 45 (n. 4), 65, 66, 73, 79, 88–90, 107, 163, 170, 181, 197, 199, 200, 205, 309, 310 see also version adaptor  22, 29–31, 310 Aixelá, Franco  181, 197, 198, 205 proper nouns  181, 197 cultural references  205 An Evening’s Love, or The Mock Astrologer  14, 63, 66, 68–74, 78, 86, 97, 114, 121, 171, 188, 200, 201, 209, 219 characters  93 performance  74 plot  86 sources  72 structure  105 anthroponym  25, 179, 181, 183–185, 188, 193–195, 197 see also proper nouns see also toponym aside  121, 128, 129, 154, 233, 267, 281, 283, 284, 286 B Bassnett, Susan  4–6, 10, 13, 16, 18, 29, 31, 33, 36, 38 Broeck, Raymond van den  4, 6, 11 C Calderón de la Barca, Pedro  15, 57, 58, 64, 67, 70, 75, 76, 81, 87, 104, 106, 174, 175, 186, 196, 223, 309 censorship  21, 22, 26, 29, 51, 167, 171

Master of the Revels  40, 46, 171 self-censorship  22, 167, 172 Charles I  13, 39, 40, 42–44, 46, 48, 50, 54, 81 Charles II  40, 50–54, 56, 58–60, 75, 77, 78, 80, 83, 137, 169, 172, 175, 260 restoration of Monarchy  40, 58, 59, 175 chastity  187, 300, 301, 305 cloak and dagger drama  20, 55, 65, 66, 76, 84, 85, 88, 300 Coello, Antonio  66, 68–71, 75, 91, 96, 107, 110, 112, 119, 125–127, 183, 184, 223, 236, 279 collaboration  9, 81, 310, 311 comedia  5, 13, 24, 16 (n. 5), 44, 54, 57, 64, 65, 72, 78, 79, 81, 95, 96, 108, 120, 152, 181, 184, 219, 300, 309 see also comedy Arte Nuevo de hacer comedias  14, 108, 109 Comedia de capa y espada see cloak and dagger drama definition of  57 comedy  9, 12, 20, 27, 28, 41–43, 47, 49, 52–58, 60, 63, 67, 69, 70, 82, 84, 85, 88, 93, 96, 97, 100, 101, 109, 130, 139, 145, 158, 163, 166, 167, 170, 175, 177, 180, 182, 196, 211, 214, 216, 219, 220, 223, 231, 233, 246, 248–250, 255, 265, 267, 269, 277, 295, 298, 300 compound  276 conservation (strategies)  179, 205, 208 costume  19, 20, 129, 166, 167, 181, 244, 248

couplet see rhyming couplet creator  31, 33, 74, 174 see also mediator Crowne, John  36, 51, 63, 65, 66, 68, 69, 78, 79, 83, 87–90, 93, 95, 97, 100, 107, 108, 118–121, 130, 138, 139, 145, 173–175, 177, 178, 194–196, 204, 216, 222–225, 232, 241, 246, 247, 249, 253, 256, 257, 259, 265, 276, 280, 282, 294 cultural turn  3–5 culture  3–6, 12, 13, 22–26, 29, 34, 39, 57, 101, 110, 149, 150, 171, 175–177, 179, 180, 204–209, 212, 267, 268, 289, 307, 309 culture-specific items  205– 209, 218 translation of  22, 204 D Descriptive Translation Studies  63 décor  20, 134, 136, 158, 160–163, 242 didascalia see stage directions Digby, George  20, 37, 43, 63–65, 68, 69, 74, 76, 77, 80–82, 85, 86, 92, 97, 99, 100, 104 159, 163, 174, 175, 178, 204, 208 domestication  39, 180, 201, 204 see also exotization see also naturalization double entendre  214 drama translation  3, 4, 6–8, 176, 180 droll  47, 88, 90, 92, 95–97, 181, 184, 185, 195, 212, 213, 216, 221, 222, 224, 250, 251, 255, 306 see also gracioso

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700) Dryden, John  21, 28, 32, 33, 35–39, 48, 50, 54, 55, 63–71, 73, 74, 77–79, 82, 83, 87, 93, 96, 97, 105, 106, 108, 109, 119, 121, 125, 126, 139–141, 145, 146, 155, 162, 167, 168, 170, 171, 173–176, 178, 182, 187–189, 196, 200, 212, 219, 221, 223, 228, 250 Essay of Dramatick Poesie  54, 109, 121 Duke’s Theatre  53, 74, 76, 160 E El astrólogo fingido  14, 20, 38, 66, 68–74, 78, 86, 93, 96–98, 105, 114, 130, 196, 207–209 characters  93 plot  86 structure  105, 106 Elvira, or The Worst Not Always True  20, 63, 65–72, 76, 81, 85, 92, 97, 104, 112, 185, 196, 199, 207–209 characters  92 performance  72 plot  85 sources  65–67 structure  104 epilogues  101, 136, 174 equivalence  3, 5, 19 Espasa, Eva  5, 27, 170 evocative names  193, 289 see also generic names see also speaking names exempla  212, 216 exotization  219 see also domestication see also naturalization extralinguistic  15, 22, 33, 63, 153, 166, 176, 177, 180 F Fanshawe, Richard  42, 49, 50 Farrell, Joseph  22 figures of ridicule  249 fop  88, 251, 252, 254 see also droll see also gracioso G Gaw, Allison  81, 111, 126, 161 generic names  186, 187, 190, 195 see also evocative names

gesture  11, 15, 18, 19, 21, 23, 25, 134, 135, 149, 151–153, 155, 157, 158, 165, 166, 223, 233–239, 258, 260, 261, 281, 283 Gitlitz, David  9, 16, 17, 25, 30, 31, 33 gracioso  47, 78, 166, 186, 249 see also droll H honour (code of)  23, 48, 54–56, 63, 95, 96, 107, 120, 155, 166, 219–221, 292–297, 299–307 honor  300, 307 honra  300, 307 Hopkins, Paul  76, 80 Hume, M.  41, 44, 45 Hume, R.D.  51 (n. 8), 64, 67, 68, 70–72 humour  47, 54, 56, 57, 63, 107, 139, 147, 158, 177, 219, 220, 222, 230, 242–245, 249, 255, 256, 259, 263, 267, 275, 288, 289 see also droll see also gracioso see also pun I imitatio see imitation imitation  31, 32, 37–39, 47, 54, 67, 68, 71, 72, 158, 176, 301 see also metaphrase see also paraphrase intercultural theatre  25 J James I  39–43, 46, 52 James II  51, 53, 54, 78 Jänis, M.  11, 31 jornada  101, 177 L “language-body”  18 Lefevere, Andrè  4–6, 29, 33 letters  43 (n. 2), 101, 136, 140–143. 144, 170 (n. 10), 186, 209, 210, 289 lighting  19, 164, 165, 223 lindo  72, 216, 251 see also fop literals  31, 310 Llovet, Enrique  29, 30, 32, 33

Loftis, John  40–45, 52, 55, 58–60, 64, 66–73, 77–81, 88, 97 (n. 18), 116 (n. 23), 299 (n. 15) Los empeños de seis horas  65, 68, 69, 71, 72, 75, 83, 91, 95, 96, 98, 102, 110, 174, 183, 198, 207–209, 300 characters  91 plot  83 structure  102, 110 love  46, 47, 54, 55, 63, 96, 97, 145, 153, 219–221, 223, 289–298, 304, 307 M Master of the Revels see censorship Mateo, Marta  5, 6, 8 (n. 3), 16, 31, 32 (n. 13), 96, 129, 153, 182 (n. 2), 220, 269 (n. 12) mediator  31, 33, 174 see also creator Merino, Raquel  6, 31, 172 (n. 14), 309 metaphrase  32, 38 see also imitation see also paraphrase mise en scène  12, 29, 31, 32 Moreto, Agustín  9, 65, 67–69, 76, 77, 81, 90, 93, 95, 96, 107, 174, 177, 186, 190, 194 (n. 17), 201, 203 (n. 20), 216, 223, 252 (n. 9) music  15, 19, 20, 40, 101, 106, 144–147, 163, 164, 220, 223, 259, 260, 266 N naturalization  39, 197, 205 see also domestication see also exotization neologisms  219, 267, 269, 275, 276, 289 Newmark, Peter  6, 7, 23, 24 No puede ser el guardar una mujer  9, 65, 68–70, 77, 78, 87, 88, 93, 94, 97, 107, 117, 118, 191, 194, 202, 203, 207–209, 215 characters  93, 94 plot  87, 88 structure  77, 107, 117, 118



Index  No siempre lo peor es cierto  65, 68, 69, 72, 76, 85, 92, 96, 97, 104, 105, 112, 151, 185, 199, 207–209, 215 characters  92 plot  85 structure  104, 105, 112, 151 P paralinguistic (elements)  223, 224, 229, 231, 233, 266 paraphrase  24, 33, 38, 48, 50, 67 see also imitation see also metaphrase patronage  36, 48, 136, 167, 172, 173 Pavis, Patrice  6, 12, 13, 18, 19, 25, 33, 127, 149 Pepys, Samuel  58 (n. 13), 74–78, 170 (n. 10) Diary  58 (n. 13), 75, 76, 78, 80 performability  8, 13, 28, 310 phonology  15, 16, 120, 150, 180 plagiary  28 (n. 11) 30, 31, 67, 82, 140 prologues  36, 37, 73, 101, 136– 140, 167 (n. 8), 172, 174, 175 proper nouns  63 177, 179–181, 187, 194, 197, 199, 203–205, 267 see also anthroponym see also toponym props  19, 158, 255, 261 proxemics  223, 240, 241, 266 pun  269–271, 273, 274 see also wordplay horizontal  268–270 vertical  268–270 R repartee  151, 277–279, 289 reparty see repartee reputation  300, 301, 303 Restoration (period)  19, 39, 45, 47, 50, 54, 58, 65, 68, 69, 72, 111, 179, 219, 299 (n. 15) Restoration (theatre)  20, 51 (n. 8), 53, 55, 56, 63, 74, 79, 109, 136, 145, 164, 247, 248, 251, 253, 258, 294 (n. 14), 298, 299 (n. 15) rhyme  16–18, 50, 120–123, 137, 144, 152, 200

rhyming couplet  37, 120, 152 rhythm  6, 16–18, 21, 108, 120, 122, 149–152 S saleability  8 (n. 3), 171 Santoyo, Julio César  27, 30–32, 36, 57 scenography  223, 242 semiotics  166, 220 Seward, Patricia M.  55, 56, 64–66, 69, 71–73, 252 (n. 9) Shaw, Patricia  42, 43, 58, 75, 76, 78 Shirley, James  9, 14, 42, 44–48, 50, 52, 55 Siglo de Oro see Spanish Golden Age Sir Courtly Nice, or It Cannot Be  63, 65–70, 72, 73, 78, 87, 88, 94, 95, 97, 107, 108, 117, 118, 138, 191, 194, 201, 202, 204, 207–209 characters  94, 95 performance  78, 255, plot  87, 88 sources  65–67, 72 structure  107, 108, 117 Snell-Hornby, Mary  4, 5, 8 (n. 3) songs  20, 24, 136, 144–147, 164, 177, 223, 259, 266 Spanish Golden Age  13, 23, 39, 59, 102, 140, 166, 216, 291, 305, 311 Spanish plot  48, 55, 60, 67, 70, 77, 82, 87, 95, 170 speaking names  196 see also evocative names stage  7, 8, 10, 12, 19, 29–31, 33, 63, 101, 129, 149, 158–161, 223, 243, 310 comicity  223, 266 components  19, 158 directions  11, 19, 101, 127–129, 131, 132, 149–151, 153, 154, 156, 158, 162, 163, 243 illusion  263, 264 notes see stage directions space  150, 223, 242, 266 St. Serfe see Sydserf, Thomas

Styan, John L.  20, 21, 109, 164, 165 (n. 6 & 7), 167, 248, 258 (n. 11) substitution (strategies)  181, 185, 197, 199, 200, 203, 205, 208, 210, 218, 270, 271 Sydserf, Thomas  63, 65, 66, 68, 69, 77, 81, 87, 88, 90, 107, 108, 120, 121, 137–139, 159, 173–175, 177, 178, 190, 193, 194, 196, 201, 203, 223 T Tarantino H., Floriana  42, 44, 45, 55, 57, 64, 69–72, 79, 252 (n. 9) Tarugo’s Wiles, or The CoffeeHouse  9, 63–69, 72, 73, 77, 87, 88, 94, 97, 107, 117, 120, 138, 174, 190, 191, 202, 203, 207–209 characters  94 performance  77 plot  87, 88 sources  65–67, 73 structure  107, 117 The Adventures of Five Hours  51, 54, 55, 60, 63, 65–72, 74–77, 80, 83, 91, 96, 102, 110, 137, 161, 171, 172, 183, 198, 207–209 characters  91 performance  74 plot  83, 84 sources  65–67, 70 structure  102, 103, 110 The Opportunity  44, 45, 47, 48, 55 The Young Admiral  9, 14, 44–46, 55 theatre building  20, 158 theatre translation see drama translation toponym  179, 181, 197, 198, 200–205, 273 see also anthroponym see also proper nouns Toury, Gideon  4 see also Descriptive Translation Studies Translation Studies  3–6, 8 (n. 3), 13, 32 (n. 13), 50 see also Descriptive Translation Studies

 Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700) Tuke, Samuel  51, 58, 63, 65, 66, 68–72, 74, 75, 80–82, 102, 119, 121, 124–127, 137, 145, 159, 161, 165, 167–172, 174–176, 183, 184, 305 (n. 16) U unities  101, 108–112, 116, 117, 119, 121 of action  110, 119 of place  109, 111, 116, 117, 119 of time  108, 109, 116, 117, 119

V Vega, Lope de  9, 14, 24, 44, 47, 49, 50 (n. 7), 58, 69, 72, 77 (n. 7), 108, 196, 310 (n. 2) Venuti, Lawrence  27, 39, 173 versification  16, 50, 52, 170 see also rhyme see also rhythm version  7–10, 16, 24, 28–31, 33, 34, 37, 44, 46, 60, 97, 135, 149, 170, 310 see also adaptation

W women  13, 53 (n. 10), 54, 88, 89, 120, 121, 129, 150, 159, 206, 236, 247, 258, 268, 276, 289, 292, 295, 297–301, 303, 305 wordplay  57, 267–271, 274, 275, 289 see also pun Z Zuber, Ortrun  6, 10, 30, 33

Benjamins Translation Library A complete list of titles in this series can be found on www.benjamins.com 87 Hale, Sandra, Uldis Ozolins and Ludmila Stern (eds.): The Critical Link 5. Quality in interpreting – a shared responsibility. vi, 250 pp. + index. Expected November 2009 86 Wakabayashi, Judy and Rita Kothari (eds.): Decentering Translation Studies. India and beyond. xi, 212 pp. + index. Expected November 2009 85 Braga Riera, Jorge: Classical Spanish Drama in Restoration English (1660–1700). 2009. xv, 330 pp. 84 Monacelli, Claudia: Self-Preservation in Simultaneous Interpreting. Surviving the role. 2009. xxi, 182 pp. 83 Torikai, Kumiko: Voices of the Invisible Presence. Diplomatic interpreters in post-World War II Japan. 2009. x, 197 pp. 82 Beeby, Allison, Patricia Rodríguez Inés and Pilar Sánchez-Gijón (eds.): Corpus Use and Translating. Corpus use for learning to translate and learning corpus use to translate. 2009. x, 151 pp. 81 Milton, John and Paul Bandia (eds.): Agents of Translation. 2009. vi, 337 pp. 80 Hansen, Gyde, Andrew Chesterman and Heidrun Gerzymisch-Arbogast (eds.): Efforts and Models in Interpreting and Translation Research. A tribute to Daniel Gile. 2009. ix, 302 pp. 79 Yuste Rodrigo, Elia (ed.): Topics in Language Resources for Translation and Localisation. 2008. xii, 220 pp. 78 Chiaro, Delia, Christine Heiss and Chiara Bucaria (eds.): Between Text and Image. Updating research in screen translation. 2008. x, 292 pp. 77 Díaz Cintas, Jorge (ed.): The Didactics of Audiovisual Translation. 2008. xii, 263 pp. (incl. CD-Rom). 76 Valero-Garcés, Carmen and Anne Martin (eds.): Crossing Borders in Community Interpreting. Definitions and dilemmas. 2008. xii, 291 pp. 75 Pym, Anthony, Miriam Shlesinger and Daniel Simeoni (eds.): Beyond Descriptive Translation Studies. Investigations in homage to Gideon Toury. 2008. xii, 417 pp. 74 Wolf, Michaela and Alexandra Fukari (eds.): Constructing a Sociology of Translation. 2007. vi, 226 pp. 73 Gouadec, Daniel: Translation as a Profession. 2007. xvi, 396 pp. 72 Gambier, Yves, Miriam Shlesinger and Radegundis Stolze (eds.): Doubts and Directions in Translation Studies. Selected contributions from the EST Congress, Lisbon 2004. 2007. xii, 362 pp. [EST Subseries 4] 71 St-Pierre, Paul and Prafulla C. Kar (eds.): In Translation – Reflections, Refractions, Transformations. 2007. xvi, 313 pp. 70 Wadensjö, Cecilia, Birgitta Englund Dimitrova and Anna-Lena Nilsson (eds.): The Critical Link 4. Professionalisation of interpreting in the community. Selected papers from the 4th International Conference on Interpreting in Legal, Health and Social Service Settings, Stockholm, Sweden, 20-23 May 2004. 2007. x, 314 pp. 69 Delabastita, Dirk, Lieven D’hulst and Reine Meylaerts (eds.): Functional Approaches to Culture and Translation. Selected papers by José Lambert. 2006. xxviii, 226 pp. 68 Duarte, João Ferreira, Alexandra Assis Rosa and Teresa Seruya (eds.): Translation Studies at the Interface of Disciplines. 2006. vi, 207 pp. 67 Pym, Anthony, Miriam Shlesinger and Zuzana Jettmarová (eds.): Sociocultural Aspects of Translating and Interpreting. 2006. viii, 255 pp. 66 Snell-Hornby, Mary: The Turns of Translation Studies. New paradigms or shifting viewpoints? 2006. xi, 205 pp. 65 Doherty, Monika: Structural Propensities. Translating nominal word groups from English into German. 2006. xxii, 196 pp. 64 Englund Dimitrova, Birgitta: Expertise and Explicitation in the Translation Process. 2005. xx, 295 pp. 63 Janzen, Terry (ed.): Topics in Signed Language Interpreting. Theory and practice. 2005. xii, 362 pp. 62 Pokorn, Nike K.: Challenging the Traditional Axioms. Translation into a non-mother tongue. 2005. xii, 166 pp. [EST Subseries 3] 61 Hung, Eva (ed.): Translation and Cultural Change. Studies in history, norms and image-projection. 2005. xvi, 195 pp.

60 Tennent, Martha (ed.): Training for the New Millennium. Pedagogies for translation and interpreting. 2005. xxvi, 276 pp. 59 Malmkjær, Kirsten (ed.): Translation in Undergraduate Degree Programmes. 2004. vi, 202 pp. 58 Branchadell, Albert and Lovell Margaret West (eds.): Less Translated Languages. 2005. viii, 416 pp. 57 Chernov, Ghelly V.: Inference and Anticipation in Simultaneous Interpreting. A probability-prediction model. Edited with a critical foreword by Robin Setton and Adelina Hild. 2004. xxx, 268 pp. [EST Subseries 2] 56 Orero, Pilar (ed.): Topics in Audiovisual Translation. 2004. xiv, 227 pp. 55 Angelelli, Claudia V.: Revisiting the Interpreter’s Role. A study of conference, court, and medical interpreters in Canada, Mexico, and the United States. 2004. xvi, 127 pp. 54 González Davies, Maria: Multiple Voices in the Translation Classroom. Activities, tasks and projects. 2004. x, 262 pp. 53 Diriker, Ebru: De-/Re-Contextualizing Conference Interpreting. Interpreters in the Ivory Tower? 2004. x, 223 pp. 52 Hale, Sandra: The Discourse of Court Interpreting. Discourse practices of the law, the witness and the interpreter. 2004. xviii, 267 pp. 51 Chan, Leo Tak-hung: Twentieth-Century Chinese Translation Theory. Modes, issues and debates. 2004. xvi, 277 pp. 50 Hansen, Gyde, Kirsten Malmkjær and Daniel Gile (eds.): Claims, Changes and Challenges in Translation Studies. Selected contributions from the EST Congress, Copenhagen 2001. 2004. xiv, 320 pp. [EST Subseries 1] 49 Pym, Anthony: The Moving Text. Localization, translation, and distribution. 2004. xviii, 223 pp. 48 Mauranen, Anna and Pekka Kujamäki (eds.): Translation Universals. Do they exist? 2004. vi, 224 pp. 47 Sawyer, David B.: Fundamental Aspects of Interpreter Education. Curriculum and Assessment. 2004. xviii, 312 pp. 46 Brunette, Louise, Georges L. Bastin, Isabelle Hemlin and Heather Clarke (eds.): The Critical Link 3. Interpreters in the Community. Selected papers from the Third International Conference on Interpreting in Legal, Health and Social Service Settings, Montréal, Quebec, Canada 22–26 May 2001. 2003. xii, 359 pp. 45 Alves, Fabio (ed.): Triangulating Translation. Perspectives in process oriented research. 2003. x, 165 pp. 44 Singerman, Robert: Jewish Translation History. A bibliography of bibliographies and studies. With an introductory essay by Gideon Toury. 2002. xxxvi, 420 pp. 43 Garzone, Giuliana and Maurizio Viezzi (eds.): Interpreting in the 21st Century. Challenges and opportunities. 2002. x, 337 pp. 42 Hung, Eva (ed.): Teaching Translation and Interpreting 4. Building bridges. 2002. xii, 243 pp. 41 Nida, Eugene A.: Contexts in Translating. 2002. x, 127 pp. 40 Englund Dimitrova, Birgitta and Kenneth Hyltenstam (eds.): Language Processing and Simultaneous Interpreting. Interdisciplinary perspectives. 2000. xvi, 164 pp. 39 Chesterman, Andrew, Natividad Gallardo San Salvador and Yves Gambier (eds.): Translation in Context. Selected papers from the EST Congress, Granada 1998. 2000. x, 393 pp. 38 Schäffner, Christina and Beverly Adab (eds.): Developing Translation Competence. 2000. xvi, 244 pp. 37 Tirkkonen-Condit, Sonja and Riitta Jääskeläinen (eds.): Tapping and Mapping the Processes of Translation and Interpreting. Outlooks on empirical research. 2000. x, 176 pp. 36 Schmid, Monika S.: Translating the Elusive. Marked word order and subjectivity in English-German translation. 1999. xii, 174 pp. 35 Somers, Harold (ed.): Computers and Translation. A translator's guide. 2003. xvi, 351 pp. 34 Gambier, Yves and Henrik Gottlieb (eds.): (Multi) Media Translation. Concepts, practices, and research. 2001. xx, 300 pp. 33 Gile, Daniel, Helle V. Dam, Friedel Dubslaff, Bodil Martinsen and Anne Schjoldager (eds.): Getting Started in Interpreting Research. Methodological reflections, personal accounts and advice for beginners. 2001. xiv, 255 pp. 32 Beeby, Allison, Doris Ensinger and Marisa Presas (eds.): Investigating Translation. Selected papers from the 4th International Congress on Translation, Barcelona, 1998. 2000. xiv, 296 pp.

31 Roberts, Roda P., Silvana E. Carr, Diana Abraham and Aideen Dufour (eds.): The Critical Link 2: Interpreters in the Community. Selected papers from the Second International Conference on Interpreting in legal, health and social service settings, Vancouver, BC, Canada, 19–23 May 1998. 2000. vii, 316 pp. 30 Dollerup, Cay: Tales and Translation. The Grimm Tales from Pan-Germanic narratives to shared international fairytales. 1999. xiv, 384 pp. 29 Wilss, Wolfram: Translation and Interpreting in the 20th Century. Focus on German. 1999. xiii, 256 pp. 28 Setton, Robin: Simultaneous Interpretation. A cognitive-pragmatic analysis. 1999. xv, 397 pp. 27 Beylard-Ozeroff, Ann, Jana Králová and Barbara Moser-Mercer (eds.): Translators' Strategies and Creativity. Selected Papers from the 9th International Conference on Translation and Interpreting, Prague, September 1995. In honor of Jiří Levý and Anton Popovič. 1998. xiv, 230 pp. 26 Trosborg, Anna (ed.): Text Typology and Translation. 1997. xvi, 342 pp. 25 Pollard, David E. (ed.): Translation and Creation. Readings of Western Literature in Early Modern China, 1840–1918. 1998. vi, 336 pp. 24 Orero, Pilar and Juan C. Sager (eds.): The Translator's Dialogue. Giovanni Pontiero. 1997. xiv, 252 pp. 23 Gambier, Yves, Daniel Gile and Christopher Taylor (eds.): Conference Interpreting: Current Trends in Research. Proceedings of the International Conference on Interpreting: What do we know and how? 1997. iv, 246 pp. 22 Chesterman, Andrew: Memes of Translation. The spread of ideas in translation theory. 1997. vii, 219 pp. 21 Bush, Peter and Kirsten Malmkjær (eds.): Rimbaud's Rainbow. Literary translation in higher education. 1998. x, 200 pp. 20 Snell-Hornby, Mary, Zuzana Jettmarová and Klaus Kaindl (eds.): Translation as Intercultural Communication. Selected papers from the EST Congress, Prague 1995. 1997. x, 354 pp. 19 Carr, Silvana E., Roda P. Roberts, Aideen Dufour and Dini Steyn (eds.): The Critical Link: Interpreters in the Community. Papers from the 1st international conference on interpreting in legal, health and social service settings, Geneva Park, Canada, 1–4 June 1995. 1997. viii, 322 pp. 18 Somers, Harold (ed.): Terminology, LSP and Translation. Studies in language engineering in honour of Juan C. Sager. 1996. xii, 250 pp. 17 Poyatos, Fernando (ed.): Nonverbal Communication and Translation. New perspectives and challenges in literature, interpretation and the media. 1997. xii, 361 pp. 16 Dollerup, Cay and Vibeke Appel (eds.): Teaching Translation and Interpreting 3. New Horizons. Papers from the Third Language International Conference, Elsinore, Denmark, 1995. 1996. viii, 338 pp. 15 Wilss, Wolfram: Knowledge and Skills in Translator Behavior. 1996. xiii, 259 pp. 14 Melby, Alan K. and Terry Warner: The Possibility of Language. A discussion of the nature of language, with implications for human and machine translation. 1995. xxvi, 276 pp. 13 Delisle, Jean and Judith Woodsworth (eds.): Translators through History. 1995. xvi, 346 pp. 12 Bergenholtz, Henning and Sven Tarp (eds.): Manual of Specialised Lexicography. The preparation of specialised dictionaries. 1995. 256 pp. 11 Vinay, Jean-Paul and Jean Darbelnet: Comparative Stylistics of French and English. A methodology for translation. Translated and edited by Juan C. Sager and M.-J. Hamel. 1995. xx, 359 pp. 10 Kussmaul, Paul: Training the Translator. 1995. x, 178 pp. 9 Rey, Alain: Essays on Terminology. Translated by Juan C. Sager. With an introduction by Bruno de Bessé. 1995. xiv, 223 pp. 8 (1st) Gile, Daniel: Basic Concepts and Models for Interpreter and Translator Training. 1995. xvi, 278 pp. 8 Gile, Daniel: Basic Concepts and Models for Interpreter and Translator Training. Revised edition. xv, 278 pp. + index. Expected December 2009 7 Beaugrande, Robert de, Abdullah Shunnaq and Mohamed Helmy Heliel (eds.): Language, Discourse and Translation in the West and Middle East. 1994. xii, 256 pp. 6 Edwards, Alicia B.: The Practice of Court Interpreting. 1995. xiii, 192 pp. 5 Dollerup, Cay and Annette Lindegaard (eds.): Teaching Translation and Interpreting 2. Insights, aims and visions. Papers from the Second Language International Conference Elsinore, 1993. 1994. viii, 358 pp. 4 Toury, Gideon: Descriptive Translation Studies – and beyond. 1995. viii, 312 pp. 3 Lambert, Sylvie and Barbara Moser-Mercer (eds.): Bridging the Gap. Empirical research in simultaneous interpretation. 1994. 362 pp.

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Snell-Hornby, Mary, Franz Pöchhacker and Klaus Kaindl (eds.): Translation Studies: An Interdiscipline. Selected papers from the Translation Studies Congress, Vienna, 1992. 1994. xii, 438 pp. Sager, Juan C.: Language Engineering and Translation. Consequences of automation. 1994. xx, 345 pp.