Women Playwrights of Early Modern Spain (Volume 49) (The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series) [1 ed.] 0866985565, 9780866985567

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Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán, Ana Caro Mallén, and Sor Marcela de San Félix

Women Playwrights of Early Modern Spain E di t ed by

Nieves Romero-Díaz and Lisa Vollendorf Harley Erdman

t r a nsl at ed a nd a nn otat ed by

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series, 49

WOMEN PLAYWRIGHTS OF EARLY MODERN SPAIN

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series, 49

MEDIEVAL AND RENAISSANCE TEXTS AND STUDIES VOLUME 501

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series

Ser ie S ed i to r S Margaret L. King and Albert Rabil, Jr. Ser ie S ed i to r , e ng l i S h te x tS Elizabeth H. Hageman

Previous Publications in the Series Madre María Rosa Journey of Five Capuchin Nuns Edited and translated by Sarah E. Owens Volume 1, 2009 Giovan Battista Andreini Love in the Mirror: A Bilingual Edition Edited and translated by Jon R. Snyder Volume 2, 2009 Raymond de Sabanac and Simone Zanacchi Two Women of the Great Schism: The Revelations of Constance de Rabastens by Raymond de Sabanac and Life of the Blessed Ursulina of Parma by Simone Zanacchi Edited and translated by Renate Blumenfeld-Kosinski and Bruce L. Venarde Volume 3, 2010 Oliva Sabuco de Nantes Barrera The True Medicine Edited and translated by Gianna Pomata Volume 4, 2010 Louise-Geneviève Gillot de Sainctonge Dramatizing Dido, Circe, and Griselda Edited and translated by Janet Levarie Smarr Volume 5, 2010

Pernette du Guillet Complete Poems: A Bilingual Edition Edited by Karen Simroth James Translated by Marta Rijn Finch Volume 6, 2010 Antonia Pulci Saints’ Lives and Bible Stories for the Stage: A Bilingual Edition Edited by Elissa B. Weaver Translated by James Wyatt Cook Volume 7, 2010 Valeria Miani Celinda, A Tragedy: A Bilingual Edition Edited by Valeria Finucci Translated by Julia Kisacky Annotated by Valeria Finucci and Julia Kisacky Volume 8, 2010 Enchanted Eloquence: Fairy Tales by Seventeenth-Century French Women Writers Edited and translated by Lewis C. Seifert and Domna C. Stanton Volume 9, 2010 Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, Sophie, Electress of Hanover and Queen Sophie Charlotte of Prussia Leibniz and the Two Sophies: The Philosophical Correspondence Edited and translated by Lloyd Strickland Volume 10, 2011

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series

Ser ie S ed i to r S Margaret L. King and Albert Rabil, Jr. Ser ie S ed i to r , e ng l i S h te x tS Elizabeth H. Hageman

Previous Publications in the Series In Dialogue with the Other Voice in Sixteenth-Century Italy: Literary and Social Contexts for Women’s Writing Edited by Julie D. Campbell and Maria Galli Stampino Volume 11, 2011 Sister Giustina Niccolini The Chronicle of Le Murate Edited and translated by Saundra Weddle Volume 12, 2011 Liubov Krichevskaya No Good without Reward: Selected Writings: A Bilingual Edition Edited and translated by Brian James Baer Volume 13, 2011 Elizabeth Cooke Hoby Russell The Writings of an English Sappho Edited by Patricia Phillippy With translations by Jaime Goodrich Volume 14, 2011 Lucrezia Marinella Exhortations to Women and to Others If They Please Edited and translated by Laura Benedetti Volume 15, 2012 Margherita Datini Letters to Francesco Datini Translated by Carolyn James and Antonio Pagliaro Volume 16, 2012

Delarivier Manley and Mary Pix English Women Staging Islam, 1696–1707 Edited and introduced by Bernadette Andrea Volume 17, 2012 Cecilia Del Nacimiento Journeys of a Mystic Soul in Poetry and Prose Introduction and prose translations by Kevin Donnelly Poetry translations by Sandra Sider Volume 18, 2012 Lady Margaret Douglas and Others The Devonshire Manuscript: A Women’s Book of Courtly Poetry Edited and introduced by Elizabeth Heale Volume 19, 2012 Arcangela Tarabotti Letters Familiar and Formal Edited and translated by Meredith K. Ray and Lynn Lara Westwater Volume 20, 2012 Pere Torrellas and Juan de Flores Three Spanish Querelle Texts: Grisel and Mirabella, The Slander against Women, and The Defense of Ladies against Slanderers: A Bilingual Edition and Study Edited and translated by Emily C. Francomano Volume 21, 2013

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series

Ser ie S ed i to r S Margaret L. King and Albert Rabil, Jr. Ser ie S ed i to r , e ng l i S h te x tS Elizabeth H. Hageman

Previous Publications in the Series Barbara Torelli Benedetti Partenia, a Pastoral Play: A Bilingual Edition Edited and translated by Lisa Sampson and Barbara Burgess-Van Aken Volume 22, 2013

Anne Killigrew “My Rare Wit Killing Sin”: Poems of a Restoration Courtier Edited by Margaret J. M. Ezell Volume 27, 2013

François Rousset, Jean Liebault, Jacques Guillemeau, Jacques Duval and Louis De Serres Pregnancy and Birth in Early Modern France: Treatises by Caring Physicians and Surgeons (1581–1625) Edited and translated by Valerie WorthStylianou Volume 23, 2013

Tullia d’Aragona and Others The Poems and Letters of Tullia d’Aragona and Others: A Bilingual Edition Edited and translated by Julia L. Hairston Volume 28, 2014

Mary Astell The Christian Religion, as Professed by a Daughter of the Church of England Edited by Jacqueline Broad Volume 24, 2013 Sophia of Hanover Memoirs (1630–1680) Edited and translated by Sean Ward Volume 25, 2013 Katherine Austen Book M: A London Widow’s Life Writings Edited by Pamela S. Hammons Volume 26, 2013

Luisa de Carvajal y Mendoza The Life and Writings of Luisa de Carvajal y Mendoza Edited and translated by Anne J. Cruz Volume 29, 2014 Russian Women Poets of the Eighteenth and Early Nineteenth Centuries: A Bilingual Edition Edited and translated by Amanda Ewington Volume 30, 2014 Jacques du Bosc L’Honnête Femme: The Respectable Woman in Society and the New Collection of Letters and Responses by Contemporary Women Edited and translated by Sharon Diane Nell and Aurora Wolfgang Volume 31, 2014

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series

Se r ie S edi to r S Margaret L. King and Albert Rabil, Jr. Se r ie S edi to r , e ng l i S h te x tS Elizabeth H. Hageman

Previous Publications in the Series Lady Hester Pulter Poems, Emblems, and The Unfortunate Florinda Edited by Alice Eardley Volume 32, 2014 Jeanne Flore Tales and Trials of Love, Concerning Venus’s Punishment of Those Who Scorn True Love and Denounce Cupid’s Sovereignity: A Bilingual Edition and Study Edited and translated by Kelly Digby Peebles Poems translated by Marta Rijn Finch Volume 33, 2014 Veronica Gambara Complete Poems: A Bilingual Edition Critical introduction by Molly M. Martin Edited and translated by Molly M. Martin and Paola Ugolini Volume 34, 2014 Catherine de Médicis and Others Portraits of the Queen Mother: Polemics, Panegyrics, Letters Translation and study by Leah L. Chang and Katherine Kong Volume 35, 2014

Françoise Pascal, MarieCatherine Desjardins, Antoinette Deshoulières, and Catherine Durand Challenges to Traditional Authority: Plays by French Women Authors, 1650–1700 Edited and translated by Perry Gethner Volume 36, 2015 Franciszka Urszula Radziwiłłowa Selected Drama and Verse Edited by Patrick John Corness and Barbara Judkowiak Translated by Patrick John Corness Translation Editor Aldona Zwierzyńska-Coldicott Introduction by Barbara Judkowiak Volume 37, 2015 Diodata Malvasia Writings on the Sisters of San Luca and Their Miraculous Madonna Edited and translated by Danielle Callegari and Shannon McHugh Volume 38, 2015 Margaret Van Noort Spiritual Writings of Sister Margaret of the Mother of God (1635–1643) Edited by Cordula van Wyhe Translated by Susan M. Smith Volume 39, 2015

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series

Se r ie S edi to r S Margaret L. King and Albert Rabil, Jr. Se r ie S edi to r , e ng l i S h te x tS Elizabeth H. Hageman

Previous Publications in the Series Giovan Francesco Straparola The Pleasant Nights Edited and translated by Suzanne Magnanini Volume 40, 2015 Angélique de Saint-Jean Arnauld D’Andilly Writings of Resistance Edited and translated by John J. Conley, S.J. Volume 41, 2015 Francesco Barbaro The Wealth of Wives: A Fifteenth-Century Marriage Manual Edited and translated by Margaret L. King Volume 42, 2015 Jeanne D’Albret Letters from the Queen of Navarre with an Ample Declaration Edited and translated by Kathleen M. Llewellyn, Emily E. Thompson, and Colette H. Winn Volume 43, 2016 Bathsua Makin and Mary More with a reply to More by Robert Whitehall Educating English Daughters: Late Seventeenth-Century Debates Edited by Frances Teague and Margaret J. M. Ezell Associate Editor Jessica Walker Volume 44, 2016

Anna StanisŁawska Orphan Girl: A Transaction, or an Account of the Entire Life of an Orphan Girl by way of Plaintful Threnodies in the Year 1685: The Aesop Episode Verse translation, Introduction and Commentary by Barry Keane Volume 45, 2016 Alessandra Macinghi Strozzi Letters to Her Sons, 1447–1470 Edited and translated by Judith Bryce Volume 46, 2016 Mother Juana de la Cruz Mother Juana de la Cruz, 1481–1534: Visionary Sermons Edited by Jessica A. Boon and Ronald E. Surtz. Introductory material and notes by Jessica A. Boon. Translated by Ronald E. Surtz and Nora Weinerth Volume 47, 2016 Claudine-Alexandrine Guérin de Tencin Memoirs of the Count of Comminge and The Misfortunes of Love Edited and translated by Jonathan Walsh Volume 48, 2016

FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN, ANA CARO MALLÉN, AND SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX

Women Playwrights of Early Modern Spain •

Edited by NIEVES ROMERO-DÍAZ AND LISA VOLLENDORF

Translated and annotated by HARLEY ERDMAN

Iter Press Toronto, Ontario Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies Tempe, Arizona 2016

Iter Press Tel: 416/978–7074

Email: [email protected]

Fax: 416/978–1668

Web: www.itergateway.org

Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies Tel: 480/965–5900 Email: [email protected] Fax: 480/965–1681

Web: acmrs.org

© 2016 Iter, Inc. and the Arizona Board of Regents for Arizona State University. All rights reserved. Printed in Canada. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Romero-Díaz, Nieves, 1970– editor. | Vollendorf, Lisa, editor. | Erdman, Harley, 1962– editor. Title: Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán, Ana Caro Mallén, and Sor Marcela de San Félix : women playwrights of early modern Spain / edited by Nieves Romero-Díaz and Lisa Vollendorf ; translated and annotated by Harley Erdman. Description: Tempe : Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2016. | Series: The other voice in early modern Europe: The Toronto series ; 49 | Series: Medieval and Renaissance texts and studies ; Volume 501 | Includes bibliographical references. Identifiers: LCCN 2016019627 (print) | LCCN 2016028865 (ebook) | ISBN 9780866985567 (pbk. : alk. paper) | ISBN 9780866987240 () Subjects: LCSH: Spanish drama—Women authors. | Spanish drama—Classical period, 1500–1700. | Women and literature—Spain—History—16th century. | Women and literature—Spain— History—17th century. Classification: LCC PQ6218.5.W65 F45 2016 (print) | LCC PQ6218.5.W65 (ebook) | DDC 862/.30809287--dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016019627 Cover illustration: Woman with a Mask (oil on canvas), Lippi, Lorenzo (1606-65) / Musée des Beaux-Arts, Angers, France / Bridgeman Images XIR154158. Cover design: Maureen Morin, Information Technology Services, University of Toronto Libraries. Typesetting and production: Iter Press.

Contents Acknowledgments Introduction

xi

A Note on the Translations

27

1

Translations Four Comic Interludes to The Tragicomedy of the Sheban Gardens and Fields by Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán Biographical Note Select Bibliography Plot and Analysis First Interlude to Part One Second Interlude to Part One First Interlude to Part Two Second Interlude to Part Two

29 30 32 34 35 47 59 75

Count Partinuplés: A Comedia by Ana Caro Mallén Biographical Note Select Bibliography Plot and Analysis Count Partinuplés

89 90 93 97 99

Four Loas and a Spiritual Coloquio by Sor Marcela de San Félix 193 Biographical Note 194 Select Bibliography 195 Plot and Analysis 197 Another Loa: The Hungry Scholar 198 Another Loa: To the Hard-Times Easter Play 206 Another Loa: On Finishing a Term of Service 214 Another Loa: To Taking Vows 219 Spiritual Coloquio of Mindless Zeal 225 Bibliography 261 Index

269

Acknowledgments This project would not have been possible without the hard work of two generations of scholars whose work has helped forge a rich understanding of early modern women. For this project on women dramatists from seventeenth-century Spain, we would like to acknowledge our debt to those who helped bring attention to the women studied in this volume. For this we thank Electa Arenal, Anne J. Cruz, Valerie Hegstrom, Bárbara Mujica, Georgina Sabat de Rivers, Stacey Schlau, Barbara Simerka, Susan M. Smith, Teresa S. Soufas, Amy R. Williamsen, and many others whose work has inspired and guided us. We also are indebted to some of the great translators of Spanish texts, notably Catherine Boyle, Edith Grossman, Catherine Larson, David Pasto, and Amanda Powell, as well as to the anonymous reader and our erudite copy editor, Cheryl Lemmens, both of whom helped improve the manuscript immeasurably. We also want to thank the University of Massachusetts at Amherst for its generous research support. We hope the translations capture the spirit and the meaning of the original Spanish in ways that honor the remarkable women featured in this book, but in the true spirit of early modern theater, we recognize that all flaws are our own. Finally, for their vision and dedication, we would like to thank Margaret L. King and Albert Rabil, Jr. Their shared commitment to The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe series has introduced thousands of students and scholars to texts otherwise forgotten or overlooked. Decades into this project, the “Other Voice” has now become “Another Voice” in Early Modern European Studies. We owe Margaret and Al a debt of gratitude for this shift.

xi

Introduction The plays included in the present volume exemplify the ingenuity and creativity of Spain’s early modern women playwrights. Like other women writers, these playwrights engaged many of the same topics as their male counterparts, but often did so with a focus on strong female protagonists1—female protagonists who act with significant agency, complexity, and dimensionality.2 This fresh perspective sometimes takes those familiar with early modern theater by surprise: these women playwrights put a twist on many common themes. Their texts explore all aspects of love, both religious and profane. Their work explores the social, cultural, and religious norms and changes of their day, and does so both with humor and finesse. Until recently, few Spanish women writers were known to exist. This volume brings three of those writers to English-speaking audiences. The playwrights featured here have been chosen for the diversity of audience, genre, and style they represent. Spanning the time period covered by theater’s Golden Age, they lived and wrote between 1569 and 1687. Two lived outside the convent and one within; all three were born into privilege, which afforded them access to education. These women also lived in a time of political turbulence and social change. The Habsburg Empire extended throughout Iberia, Europe, Asia, and the Americas; it was indeed an empire upon which the sun never set. The spoils of the 1. Most critics agree that these playwrights depict strong female protagonists. See, for example, Fernando Doménech, “Autoras en el teatro español. Siglos XVI y XVII,” in Autoras en la historia del teatro español (1500–1994), ed. Juan Antonio Hormigón, vol. 1 (Madrid: Asociación de directores de escena españoles, 1996), 392–604; Teresa Ferrer Valls, “La ruptura del silencio: Mujeres dramaturgas en el siglo XVII,” in Mujeres: Escrituras y lenguajes (en la cultura latinoamericana y española), ed. Sonia Mattalía and Milagros Aleza (Valencia: Universitat de València, 1995), 91–108; Catherine Larson, “ ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’: Gender, Voice, and Identity in Women-Authored Comedias,” in Identity, Gender, and Representation in Spain’s Golden Age, ed. Anita K. Stoll and Dawn L. Smith (Lewisburg, PA: Bucknell University Press, 2000), 127–41; Alexander Samson, “Distinct Drama? Female Playwrights in Golden Age Spain,” in A Companion to Spanish Women’s Studies, ed. Xon de Ros and Geraldine Hazbun (Woodbridge, England: Tamesis Books, 2011), 157–72; Teresa S. Soufas, Dramas of Distinction: A Study of Plays by Golden Age Women (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1997), 1–11; Lisa Vollendorf, The Lives of Women: A New History of Inquisitional Spain (Nashville: Vanderbilt University Press, 2005), 74–89; Amy R. Williamsen, “Re-writing in the Margins: Caro’s Valor, agravio y mujer as Challenge to Dominant Discourse,” Bulletin of the Comediantes 44, no. 1 (1992): 21–30; and Valerie Hegstrom and Amy R. Williamsen, eds., Engendering the Early Modern Stage: Women Playwrights in the Spanish Empire (New Orleans: University Press of the South, 1999). 2. As Samson summarizes, many women’s plays highlight “female friendship, offering more nuanced explorations of women’s roles, granting them agency in driving the plot rather than acting as mere vehicles for male conflict, and demonstrating a sustained interest in self-fashioning, the transformative possibilities of speech, and identity” (171).

1

2 Introduction imperial crusade filled and refilled the state coffers, only to be spent repeatedly on efforts to maintain a grasp on far-flung peoples and nations. Wars with the Low Countries were the order of the day, as was a short-lived annexation of Portugal. All of this led to multiple bankruptcies and to a diminishing monarchy desperate to cling to a magnificent past. The age of glory put into motion by the Catholic Monarchs Isabel and Ferdinand came to an end with the death of the hapless and heirless Carlos II in 1700. Life was perhaps not as gripped by such lofty concerns as this dramatic political setting would suggest. The relatively fast pace of social and cultural change created challenges and opportunities for the populace. By the sixteenth century, the Inquisition and the Church had a steady hand in social control; their reach extended into the private lives and choices of Spain’s citizens. The Protestant and Catholic Reformations reshaped definitions of piety, loyalty, and acceptable behavior on the Iberian Peninsula. The rise of urbanization led to both an emerging merchant class and urban poverty. Simultaneously, the spoils of Iberian expansion were transported around the globe and knowledge of faraway peoples and places arrived with every ship. The movement of people, goods, and ideas characterized the era: in Iberia and throughout the empire, Spaniards had access to more information and more goods than ever before. Enter the theater as both a site and mode of entertainment and provocation: a creative space that allowed for the ideas and changes of the day to be consumed, questioned, and displayed before large audiences. As in England, the Spanish theater became a cultural and social phenomenon late in the sixteenth century. The Spanish corral, the physical space of urban theater, played a role similar to that of London’s Globe. Best understood as public courtyard theaters, corrales sprung up around the nation and provided entertainment not only for the urban elite, but for all who could afford the relatively cheap price of entry-level admission. Known as comedias, the plays performed in these public theaters represented a broad swath of Spanish society. They also provided an opportunity for women and men to mingle not only in the audience but also as performers, as Spain allowed women actors to work alongside their male counterparts. There was a certain price for this autonomy, as many pamphlets and treatises criticized women actors for their purportedly brazen public performances. Fundamentally, female actors engaged in economic and cultural activities that flew in the face of women’s traditional roles as domesticated wives and mothers. The comedia did not shy away from these issues: as a genre it reflected Spanish society through diverse representations of social class, gender relations, historical moments, and power struggles. And women, as this volume attests, were often at the center of these representations— both as actors and as playwrights. In these important ways, the Spanish theater represented a microcosm of the changes affecting women in the larger society. Urbanization had already

Introduction 3 created more public economic roles for women than they had previously occupied in Spain’s rural, agrarian society. Women were teachers, merchants, sex workers, and midwives—and they sold spells and potions aimed at inciting love, curing heartache, and ending pregnancies.3 In the uppermost echelons, noblewomen influenced the monarchy and the state by arranging marriages and influencing political decisions throughout Europe and the empire.4 These women also became some of Spain’s great patrons, sponsoring such vastly different enterprises as the plastic arts, literature, and convent foundations. In the second half of the sixteenth century, the Counter-Reformation’s prioritization of convents as a site of Catholic piety and religious expression effected a revolution that, perhaps inadvertently, provided women with new opportunities to seek positions of authority and educational pathways. The proliferation of convents in Counter-Reformation Spain increased the number of women participating in female monastic culture as nuns, and supporting that culture as laywomen.5 Women of different social classes and backgrounds lived in convents: 3. Studies that engage issues related to women and work in early modern Spain include: Stephanie Fink De Backer, Widowhood in Early Modern Spain: Protectors, Proprietors, and Patrons (Leiden: Brill, 2010); Mary Elizabeth Perry, Gender and Disorder in Early Modern Seville (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1990); Allyson M. Poska, Women and Authority in Early Modern Spain: The Peasants of Galicia (Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2005); and Vollendorf, The Lives of Women. On women and urban culture, see Nieves Romero-Díaz, Nueva nobleza, nueva novela: Reescribiendo la cultura urbana del barroco (Newark, DE: Juan de la Cuesta, 2002). 4. Key scholarship on the roles and influence of Spanish noblewomen includes Consolación Baranda, ed., María de Jesús de Ágreda: Correspondencia con Felipe IV. Religión y razón de estado (Madrid: Castalia, 1991; rpt. 2001); Anne J. Cruz and Maria Galli Stampino, eds., Early Modern Habsburg Women. Transnational Contexts, Cultural Contexts, Dynastic Continuities (Aldershot, England, and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2013); Anne J. Cruz and Mihoko Suzuki, eds., The Rule of Women in Early Modern Europe (Urbana-Champaign: University of Illinois Press, 2009); Helen Nader, ed., Power and Gender in Renaissance Spain: Eight Women of the Mendoza Family, 1450–1650 (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2004); and María de Guevara, Warnings to the Kings and Advice on Restoring Spain: A Bilingual Edition, ed. and trans. Nieves Romero-Díaz, The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe 57 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2007). 5. Important work in the area of Spanish conventual life and literature includes Electa Arenal and Georgina Sabat de Rivers, ed. and introd., Literatura conventual femenina: Sor Marcela de San Felix, hija de Lope de Vega. Obra completa. Coloquios espirituales, loas y otros poemas (Barcelona: Promociones y Publicaciones Universitarias, 1988); Arenal and Stacey Schlau, ed. and introd., Untold Sisters: Hispanic Nuns in their Own Works, trans. Amanda Powell, 2nd ed. (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2009); Nieves Baranda Leturio and María Carmen Marín Pina, eds., Letras en la celda: Cultura escrita de los conventos femeninos en la España moderna (Madrid: Iberoamericana, 2014); Anne J. Cruz, ed. and trans., The Life and Writings of Luisa de Carvajal y Mendoza, The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe 29 (Toronto: Iter Inc. and the Centre for Reformation and Renaissance Studies, 2014); Elizabeth Lehfeldt, Religious Women in Early Modern Spain: The Permeable Cloister (Aldershot, England, and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2005); and Susan M. Smith and Georgina Sabat de

4 Introduction some non-elite women came as servants or slaves, and some were allowed to enter without a dowry. In many cases, convent life required physical, fiscal, and spiritual maintenance of the institution. Responsibilities ranged from basic daily activities such as cleaning and cooking to managing financial operations and maintaining patron relationships. Depending on the religious order, convents varied in strictness, with some enforcing enclosure and others allowing visitors; some convents, for example, permitted women to bring servants and to see family regularly. Others, including the Discalced Carmelites founded in 1562 by Teresa de Ávila (1515– 82),6 promoted a meditative, interiorized relationship with God that required nuns to renounce contact with the outside world when taking vows. Convents served as educational institutions for nuns, who often established schools for girls in the neighboring communities. Humanists such as Juan Luis Vives (1493–1540; author of Instrucción de la mujer cristiana [The Education of a Christian Woman], 1523) and Fray Luis de León (1527–91; author of La perfecta casada [The Perfect Wife], 1583) had long exhorted women to seek a strong domestic education, but had warned them against engaging too freely or deeply in science or other serious intellectual pursuits.7 Remarkably, within this context of highly circumscribed support for female education, Teresa de Ávila forged a bold path that encouraged women to seek enough knowledge to be faithful and credible servants of Christ. Indeed, Teresa de Ávila had an unprecedented influence on women’s relationship to Catholicism and the written word.8 A prolific and popular author whose works were read throughout Iberia and the Catholic world, she was canonized with rapidity only forty years after her death. Madre Teresa laid a multifaceted foundation for Catholic women to engage actively with their own intellectual and spiritual connections to the faith. Within convents, education was emphasized as a way for women to have access to the word of God, and, in the case of the Discalced Carmelites, to the “interior castle” she promoted. Outside the convent, Madre Teresa’s works circulated widely, serving to quickly and effectively legitimize women’s roles as authors and thinkers within the circumscribed realm Rivers, eds., Los coloquios del Alma: Cuatro dramas alegóricos de Sor Marcela de San Félix, hija de Lope de Vega (Newark, DE: Juan de la Cuesta, 2006). 6. “Discalced” meaning “unshod,” indicating that members of an order went about barefoot or wearing sandals—a tradition originated by Saint Francis of Assisi. 7. See, for example, Elizabeth Teresa Howe, Education and Women in the Early Modern Hispanic World (Aldershot, England, and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2008). 8. For more on Saint Teresa’s cultural context and impact, see Jodi Bilinkoff, The Ávila of Saint Teresa: Religious Reform in a Sixteenth-Century City, 2nd ed. (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2015), and Alison Parks Weber, Teresa of Ávila and the Rhetoric of Femininity (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1990).

Introduction 5 of Catholic spirituality. It is no coincidence that many of the known Catholic convent authors would later hail from the Discalced Carmelites or similar orders, including Discalced Trinitarian Sor Marcela de San Félix (1605–87), whose work is featured in the present volume. In combination with the proliferation of Counter-Reformation convents and the expansion of educational opportunities within convent walls, the Catholic world’s enthusiastic validation of Teresa de Ávila’s intellectual contributions provided a catalyst for more and more women throughout Iberia and the Americas to become writers.9 While we have knowledge of some early sixteenth-century Spanish women authors, the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries mark a turning point in the number of women known to have engaged with the written word.10 Madre Teresa’s ascension to popularity in the latter decades of the sixteenth century introduced a woman writer to a large readership and provided a legitimate model for women’s engagement with the written word that would inspire countless women the world over to take up the pen.11 Within the context of the broader cultural shifts in late sixteenth- and early seventeenth-century Spain, Madre Teresa’s validation as a female intellectual leader coincided with the rise of public theater and with the intensified focus on 9. On the history of women’s education and engagement with reading and writing, see Nieves Baranda Leturio, Cortejo a lo prohibido: Lectoras y escritoras en la Edad Moderna (Madrid: Arco Libros, 2006); Pedro Cátedra and Anastasio Rojo, Bibliotecas y lecturas de mujeres, siglo XVI (Salamanca: Instituto de Historia del Libro y de la Lectura, 2004); Anne J. Cruz and Rosilie Hernández, eds., Women’s Literacy in Early Modern Spain and the New World (Aldershot, England, and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2011); Howe, Education and Women in the Early Modern Hispanic World; and Lisa Vollendorf, The Lives of Women, 169–86. A superb book on Latin American nuns’ writing is Asunción Lavrin and Rosalva Loreto López, Monjas y beatas: La escritura femenina en la espiritualidad barroca novohispana: siglos XVII y XVIII (Puebla, México: Archivo General de la Nación / Universidad de las Américas, 2002). 10. For more on women writers and women’s influence in the earlier time period, see Kirstin Downey, Isabella: The Warrior Queen (New York: Nan A. Talese/Doubleday, 2014); Ronald E. Surtz, Writing Women of Late Medieval and Early Modern Spain: The Mothers of Saint Teresa of Ávila (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1995); Lisa Vollendorf, “Women Writers of Sixteenth-Century Spain,” in Dictionary of Literary Biography: Sixteenth-Century Spain, ed. Gregory Kaplan (Farmington Hills, MI: Gale Group, 2005), 335–41; and Barbara F. Weissberger, Isabel Rules: Constructing Queenship, Wielding Power (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2003). 11. Scholarship that traces the transatlantic ties or connections among women in the Ibero-American Atlantic world often does so through the lens of the Catholic connections. See, for example, Arenal and Schlau, Untold Sisters; Allan Greer and Jodi Bilinkoff, eds., Colonial Saints: Discovering the Holy in the Americas (New York: Routledge, 2003); Nora Jaffary, ed., Gender, Race, and Religion in the Colonization of the Americas (Aldershot, England, and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2007); Daniella Kostroun and Lisa Vollendorf, eds., Women, Religion, and the Atlantic World (1600–1800) (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, in association with the UCLA Center for Seventeenth- and EighteenthCentury Studies and the William Andrews Clark Memorial Library, 2009); and Stephanie Merrim, Early Modern Women’s Writing and Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (Nashville: Vanderbilt University Press, 1999).

6 Introduction the degradation of the Spanish empire after the fall of the Armada in 1588. As women became actors and audience members in public theaters, they did so in a context in which women’s visibility as cultural and economic actors had been on the rise. By the late sixteenth century, the social and cultural changes related to gender, authority, and religion had set the stage for educated women to enter the writing sphere in unprecedented numbers.

Rise of the Theater The women featured in the present volume figure among the growing number of known female authors in seventeenth-century Spain. While most writing by women involved letters, record-keeping, convent histories, and advice manuals, some women wrote fictional prose and plays. Among the best studied is María de Zayas y Sotomayor (b. 1590), a bestselling novella author, poet, and playwright. Yet we know of few extant plays by women, a scarcity that leaves our featured authors—Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán (1569–ca. 1643–44), Ana Caro Mallén (1590–1650), and Sor Marcela de San Félix—in an even more rarefied position. By writing plays, these women stepped into one of the most popular art forms of their day. They also entered into conversation with the giant of the theater, Félix Lope de Vega y Carpio (1562–1635). Often referred to as Lope, he is known outside Spain as the Spanish Shakespeare for his popularity, talent, and productivity. Lope forged a revolutionary path that led him to be called the Phoenix of Wits and a Monster of Nature. Along with Calderón de la Barca (1600–81; discussed in more detail below) and Tirso de Molina (1579–1648), he formed part of what is known as the Golden Age of Spanish theater. Yet Lope stands out for his significant contributions to both the form and role of theater in the changing society of early modern Spain. He also stands alone in his relationship to one of our featured authors, as he was Sor Marcela’s father.12 Lope summarized his innovative approach to theater in a treatise written in 1609 for the Madrid Academia. At age forty-seven and with more than four hundred plays to his name, he published El arte nuevo de hacer comedias en este tiempo (The New Art of Writing Comedias in These Times) alongside his Rimas Sagradas (Sacred Poems). Lope was an audience pleaser, a writer of plays that had relevance for his time and place. The New Art of Writing Comedias explored this mandate. Lope was a keen observer of his surroundings and a surprisingly accurate interpreter of the public’s taste, and he defended the importance of these skills in his treatise. The treatise defines what he calls a new type of theater in his time, an aesthetic that bridges classical doctrine and new ideas to reconceptualize theater for a new century. By combining comic and tragic elements in the same 12. For a general overview of the Spanish theater in this period, refer to the classical study by Ángel Valbuena Prat, El teatro español en su Siglo de Oro (Barcelona: Planeta, 1969).

Introduction 7 play, allowing a mix of social classes to be represented on stage together, and fusing tragedy with comedy, he invokes the term tragicomedia (tragicomedy) as the ideal formula for modern plays. The New Art of Writing Comedias also rejects the Aristotelian ideal of unity of action, time, and place. Instead, Lope proposes the incorporation of a line of action secondary to the main one, thereby rejecting the rule of time and place as long as the story remains credible and follows the rule of verisimilitude. His ideal play is divided into three acts (actos or jornadas), moves swiftly, surprises the audience, and leaves the denouement for the very end. Plays could also explore different themes, but he reminds his readers that the public is most interested in honor as the main theme. He underscores the importance of the comic character— the gracioso—as a sidekick to the main character, and emphasizes that characters should speak according to a rhythm, verse, and level appropriate to the context or to their own social standing. Lope advocates that plays follow linguistic, thematic, and poetic rules reflecting both what the public wants and what it expects from different characters.13 The most important component of Lope’s treatise, however, is his insistence on the audience and their preferences; in Spanish this is famously known as “el gusto del vulgo” (the commoners’ taste). Lope recognized audiences as the ultimate arbiters of taste. Who was this audience that had such a hold on the most important playwright of his day? It is impossible to speak about that audience without invoking the social changes of the era. A stronger economy fundamentally drove the growth of cities in the sixteenth century, and this, in turn, opened the possibility for the monarchy to be based in one city as opposed to traveling throughout the emerging nation-state. King Felipe II created a fixed place for his court when he moved it to Madrid in 1561. Aside from a brief moment in which Felipe III moved the court to Valladolid from 1601 to 1606, Madrid would be the courtly city from that moment forward. The rise of the urban merchant class led to greater social stratification and, for some, greater leisure time than had been possible in a wholly agrarian society. This, in turn, led to the possibility of an urban consumer culture that had previously not existed. Fixed-space public theaters—the corrales—eventually arose as part of the fabric of the emerging urban consumer culture. The transition to fixed-space theaters occurred over several decades. By the second half of the sixteenth century, various European countries bore witness to a rise in playwriting and play productions. As in Italy, France, and England, Spain saw a dramatic improvement in stagecraft, with a proliferation of new techniques used to perform the plays. In a context of increased urbanization and population density, the stagecraft improvements fueled a desire to created fixed performance 13. See, for example, Juan Manuel Rozas, Significado y doctrina del arte nuevo de Lope de Vega (Madrid: Sociedad General Española de Librería, 1976), or more recently Enrique García Santo-Tomás’s edition of Lope’s El arte nuevo de hacer comedias (Madrid: Cátedra, 2006).

8 Introduction spaces for urban populations. As mentioned, these courtyard theaters or corrales de comedias were built specifically for the purpose of providing entertainment to the masses. Social and economic conditions made these open-air theaters popular and possible, and actors and their companies benefited from having fixed sites at which to rehearse and perform. Similarly, early modern cities benefited economically from permanent theaters through levies and taxes that helped pay for hospitals and other social welfare institutions. Between 1565 and 1635 (the year of Lope’s death), the main Spanish theaters of the time were built, and two of the first—the Corral de la Cruz, founded in 1579, and the Corral del Príncipe, founded in 1582—quickly became the two most important theaters in Madrid.14 The last known theater courtyard to have been built in Spain, established about 120 miles south of Madrid in Almagro in 1628, is also the only survivor of the courtyard theater era (see Figure 1). After its discovery in 1953, it was purchased by Almagro city council, which began extensive renovation work to bring it back to its original glory. The corral de comedias was nothing more than a rectangular courtyard set between two houses, at one end of which was a stage, and at the other end, the entrance from the street. Members of the general public would stand on the main floor, in front of the stage, with the cheapest admission going to those in the back who became known as the rowdy groundlings (mosqueteros). In the adjoining building there were windows that opened from individual rooms (aposentos), which could be rented by members of the nobility. Normally, if the royal family attended a performance, they would occupy one of these rooms. Along the rear wall, opposite the stage, was a refreshment stand next to the entrance, while on the second floor was the cazuela, a dedicated box for middle-class women. Above this, there was sometimes another box, normally assigned to city councilors and other authorities. The space of the corral, therefore, was regulated by gender and social class. The theaters’ schedules and performances also followed precise regulations set by the government to ensure order and decorum. In spite of the regulatory nature of the space, the corral was nonetheless open to all regardless of rank, gender, or position in the relatively rigid social hierarchy of the day. Indeed, its mixed audience would not have been out of place in the plays of Lope, who embraced the representation of characters from different social classes, and issues affecting people throughout society, as key components of his dramaturgy. In this sense, it is impossible to separate his approach to theater from the context in which the corrales de comedias emerged. 14. For more on the corral in early modern Spanish society, see Pedro Ruiz Pérez’s “El espacio de la representación: El corral, signo social,” in El espacio de la escritura: En torno a una poética del espacio del texto barroco (Bern:  Peter Lang, 1996), 119–55. For a general understanding of the corral, see Charles Davis and John Varey’s Los corrales de comedias y los hospitales de Madrid, 1574–1615: Estudio y documentos, 2 vols. (Madrid: Támesis Books, 1997).

Introduction 9

Figure 1. Corral de comedias, Almagro. Photograph courtesy of Antonio Leyva, EducaMadrid, Consejería de Educación, Juventud y Deporte de la Comunidad de Madrid.

In the beginning, the corrales opened only on holidays and on special occasions that celebrated a royal event. Over time, they commonly held performances almost every day of the week in every month of the year—except on rainy days, since the corrales had no permanent roofs. Given that the nation’s power was intertwined with that of the Catholic Church and the Inquisition, all theaters were closed during Lent.15 Outside of restrictive holidays, each play ran for approximately one week; these brief runs forced playwrights to continuously write new plays, and theater companies to continually be in rehearsal and production. Going to the theater was an all-day adventure, or—as Juan de Zabaleta wrote—at least a full afternoon event.16 Since there was no curtain, the event would begin with loud music and a loa (a short piece that helped to set the mood of the audience and normally included some sort of praise to the city or the authorities). Once the audience was more or less attentive, the play would begin. Short theatrical pieces, known as minor genres (géneros menores), were performed between 15. By the end of the sixteenth century, Spanish moralists questioned the utility of theater and often issued calls for its closure. Beginning in 1598, such recommendations were successful on several occasions. See Emilio Cotarelo y Mori’s Bibliografía de las controversias sobre la licitud del teatro en España [1904], facsimile edition (Granada: Universidad de Granada, 1997). 16. Zabaleta, Juan de, “El día de fiesta por la tarde” [1660], in El día de fiesta por la mañana y por la tarde, ed. Cristóbal Cuevas (Madrid: Castalia, 1983), 317.

10 Introduction acts. These could be written by any author, not necessarily the playwright of the featured play, and could be on any number of themes. Considered minor in terms of length, not quality, these shorter pieces included dances, interludes (entremeses), and farces (mojigangas), and were written by such well-known authors as Miguel de Cervantes (1547–1616) and Calderón de la Barca. These short compositions were usually burlesque parodies, often grotesque, and provided comic relief to the usually more serious and sustained plots of comedias. Finally, as the culminating event, companies usually performed dances at the end of the third act. The long afternoons of entertainment hinged on a multifaceted production that featured plays in verse. According to the Diccionario de autoridades (1726–39), the plays were “dramatic poem(s) created to be performed in the theater, whether it be a comedy, tragedy, tragicomedy, or religious work.”17 By far the most popular subgenre was the cloak and dagger play (comedia de capa y espada), which featured young women and men embroiled in complicated plots of love and courtship. The variety of comedia themes and plots was tremendous and included historical, religious, mythological, pastoral, tragic, and comic themes, plots, and characters. Lope de Vega cultivated all of these variations of comedia, and by doing so also created a school of followers who wrote plays for an urban society thirsty for constant novelty and amusement.

Palace Theater The powerful presence of public theater in the corrales was an important fixture of Spanish cities throughout the seventeenth century. By the time Lope died in 1635, another cultural shift was afoot. The changes were fueled by two forces: an increasingly sophisticated approach to stagecraft, and the completion of King Felipe IV’s new palace, the Palacio de Buen Retiro, complete with a custom-made theater complex, the Coliseo del Buen Retiro. The construction of the main buildings of the Palacio de Buen Retiro drew to a close in 1640, and for the first time the royal family had a separate complex in Madrid solely devoted to leisure. New sites— such as the Coliseo del Buen Retiro, the Palacio de la Zarzuela, the Palacio Real del Pardo, and the Alcázar—had been built to respond to a demand for complex stagecraft that would astound the increasingly sophisticated theater audience. Of course, among the highest levels of royalty, private performances were common. In Spain, from the sixteenth century on, different rooms in the royal palace had been transformed temporarily into small theaters for special occasions. Notably, Felipe IV’s first wife, Isabel de Borbón (1602–44), had the king 17. Diccionario de autoridades [1726–39], facsimile edition (Madrid: Gredos, 1984). The original states: “Poema dramático, que se hace para representarse en el theatro, sea Comédia, Tragédia, Tragicomédia, o Pastoral.” Note that the Diccionario de autoridades is searchable online at .

Introduction 11 dedicate a room in the palace exclusively for private performances, where the queen herself acted in different plays (as we discuss more fully below). The royals celebrated festivities such as birthdays, the queen’s post-partum recovery, and other royal events in these transformed spaces. By the second half of the seventeenth century, plays had so evolved in technicality and spectacle that only specific royal spaces were appropriate for their showing. In some cases, stage machinery became even more important than the plot. At this time, the specially designed theater at the Palacio de Buen Retiro—the Coliseo—replaced the improvised private rooms of the court with sophisticated, built-in mechanisms for special effects and stagecraft. Characters could appear, disappear, and even fly, all in front of an astonished audience. Moreover, the open spaces of palace theater included gardens such as those in the Palacio Real del Pardo and the Buen Retiro: these served as the sites of a variety of performances that incorporated water, fire, smells, and other special effects. Some spaces, like the Coliseo, offered access to the public, which meant that the urban audiences who had consumed theater for decades had their appetites satiated by increasingly complex theatrical performances. Eventually the simplicity of the corral seemed quaint compared to the new technical possibilities of palace theater. Calderón de la Barca is the Spanish playwright most closely associated with the genre of palace theater. His rise to stardom reflects theater’s transition from corral to palace and, simultaneously, from entertainment for the masses to entertainment for the wealthy. While he started his career composing plays in the vein of capa y espada, Calderón soon began creating works that were more complex in terms of stage production, themes, and language use. His comedias and autos (allegorical religious plays) cleverly blended ideologically and linguistically complex content with similarly complex stage production. His approach, furthermore, flew in the face of Lope’s emphasis on the commoner: Calderón wrote for the court first, and then for the masses. And his court audiences responded enthusiastically—with the nobility cheering his ingenuity, Calderón quickly became the favorite Spanish playwright of the second half of the seventeenth century.18

Cities and Convents as Theatrical Sites While the rise of permanent sites for theater clearly played an important role from the late 1500s into the 1600s in Spain, the nation also had two additional and equally important sites of performance: cities and convents. Cities themselves provided the perfect backdrop for many royal demonstrations of power in this time of consolidation of the nation-state. Almost any event provided a reason to celebrate, including religious holidays, the arrival of royalty, the beatification of 18. See Teatros del Siglo de Oro: Corrales y coliseos en la Península Ibérica, Cuadernos de Teatro Clasico 6, ed. José María Díez Borque (Madrid: Compañía Nacional de Teatro Clásico, 1991).

12 Introduction a religious figure, and royal births and deaths. For such celebrations and performances, the genre of choice was the ever-reliable auto sacramental (allegorical religious play).19 Autos—dramatic, allegorical, one-act plays dedicated to the mystery of the Eucharist—were normally financed by the city authorities, and were always presented during the festivity of Corpus Christi.20 The glory period of the autos sacramentales arrived with Calderón de la Barca, who knew how to make use of the mobile stages (carros) and the fixed performance stages to magnify religious messages and create amazing technical effects. These displays, in turn, thrilled audiences accustomed to public spectacles associated both with celebration and, thanks to Inquisitional autos-de-fe (acts of faith), with punishment. The role of the auto-de-fe in the urban landscape of early modern Spain should not be overlooked: these public processions of penitence and punishment involved tremendous theatricality. The main plazas of many cities, including Madrid’s own Plaza Mayor, served as the culminating sites for some autos-de-fe. Prisoners wearing special garments (sanbenitos), on which representations of their crimes were emblazoned, were processed throughout the cities for public shaming and then taken to a final site for the culmination of the event, which usually involved some kind of punishment that might include, for example, lashings or burning. This particular expression of power had deep roots in theater and spectacle, thereby contributing to the overall fabric of performance that informed the cityscape. While city dwellers were experiencing the social and cultural changes that came with increased urban population density, the Counter-Reformation also led to a significant growth in the number of convents in the latter half of the sixteenth century. The Council of Trent (1545–63) emphasized enclosure, contemplation, and piety in ways that encouraged Catholics to support and embody monasticism. In Spain, this resulted in more women entering convents than ever before and, in turn, more women having access to education. Many literary genres were cultivated in convents for the purposes of religious expression and entertainment. Theater provided an important form of entertainment, and most theater performed in convents was naturally religious. In female monasteries, convent theater was primarily a private theatrical event, generally performed by nuns in celebration of religious events and holy days and often with the purpose of also educating the audience about spiritual matters.21 19. For more information, see Ignacio Arellano and J. Enrique Duarte, El auto sacramental (Madrid: Ediciones del Laberinto, 2003). 20. Traditionally celebrated on the first Thursday following Trinity Sunday with a Mass and a procession of the Blessed Sacrament, in which the Eucharist is carried in a monstrance for display; it concludes with Benediction (the blessing of the people with the Eucharist). Although Eucharistic autos were the most common, pious plays might also have a Christmas theme or a hagiographic plot, and could be celebrated throughout the year. All autos were didactic, however. 21. For more on female convent theater, see Electa Arenal, “Vida y teatro conventual: Sor Marcela de San Félix,” in La creatividad femenina en el mundo barroco hispánico: María de Zayas – Isabel Rebeca

Introduction 13 Interchangeably called autos or coloquios, these were one-act allegorical plays that usually had spirituality and religion at their core.22 In addition to the nuns who wrote and acted in these plays, the audience sometimes included family members, secular and religious authorities, and even members of the nobility, including the king or queen.

Women and Theater As our brief overview of performances in corrales, in palaces, on city streets, and within convent walls suggests, theater was an intrinsic element of life in early modern Spain, particularly in the cities. Those from every level of society participated in this great theater of the world, from the poorest artisan enjoying city autos during Corpus Christi to the wealthiest grandee attending private performances at court. The most prolific and well-known authors in the history of Spanish theater belonged to this period, and their influence is still felt five hundred years later. Yet the influence and role of women as consumers and producers of culture in the period remains under studied and under appreciated. Scholarship in the past two decades has begun to correct the record, demonstrating beyond a doubt that, in addition to their integration into the urban economies starting in the sixteenth century, women also played important roles in all aspects of theater. From across the social spectrum, women attended theater; some were also actors; and a few are even known to have been playwrights. Queen Isabel de Borbón’s relationship to the theater touches on many of the issues swirling around theater with regard to women, authority, patronage, and sexuality. Her weekly attendance at the corrales led her to become one of the primary voices of influence regarding performances, taste, and even theater design. While she had rooms in each palace for weekly performances, she also loved public performances at the corrales, and attended them regularly with the king. By the time Isabel arrived in Madrid in 1615, the corrales were already well established, Lope had reached the peak of his career, and theater occupied one of the most important places for entertainment and gathering in the city. The future queen of Spain brought to the stage not only the continuation of the Spanish monarchy but also hopes for a political and economic recovery for an empire in decline. Her arrival in Madrid was a theatrical performance unto itself: the city was transformed into the perfect set, with the princess and the citizens as its main

Correa – Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, ed. Monika Bosse, Barbara Potthast, and André Stoll, vol. 1 (Kassel: Reichenberger, 2000), 209–20. 22. One well-known exception to the religious focus of nuns’ plays is Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz’s comedia, Los empeños de una casa (The Trials of a Household, 1683).

14 Introduction characters.23 With the exception of the time of mourning after Felipe III’s death in 1621, her years at court were remarkable for their festive mood, and, particularly, for the increase in theatrical productions and performances. Deleito y Piñuela, in El rey se divierte (The King Has Fun, 1935), summarizes the theatrical life around the monarchs and refers to many productions sponsored by Queen Isabel inside and outside the palace. Like many women who exerted their influence through patronage, she also sponsored some of the top playwrights of the period, including Lope de Vega and Luis Vélez de Guevara.24 Dabbling in the acting profession that other women had entered at the time, Isabel appeared in a palace production of La gloria de Niquea (The Glory of Niquea, 1622), a play written by the controversial Don Juan de Tassis, Count of Villamediana, with whom she was rumored to be having an affair.25 Isabel achieved another sort of protagonism in the corrales, this time not as an actress but as a shadow director of sorts: rumor had it that the queen, who loved the corral atmosphere, orchestrated her own off-stage comedia by ordering mice to be thrown into the cazuela to watch women scream and jump while the rest of the audience whistled and cheered at them.26 The treacherous connection between theater and sexuality was much lamented by many moralists of the period, and part of Isabel de Borbón’s story overlapped with these particular concerns for women as well. She was aware that the same corrales in which the theater she loved so much was produced also ignited some of the king’s most passionate affairs, among which his relationship with María Calderón (“la Calderona”) (1611–46) is perhaps the most famous. La Calderona started her acting career in the Corral de la Cruz in Madrid in 1627, and her popularity quickly grew. King Felipe IV, who saw her performing that same year, is said to have fallen madly in love with her and to have fathered a child with her. The king eventually recognized this child as his own in 1642, thus allowing him to become known to history as Don Juan José de Austria. As for La 23. See “Entrada que hizo en Madrid, corte de Su Magestad, la Serenísima Princesa de España, nuestra Señora Madama Isabel de Borbón, hermana del Cristianísimo Rey de Francia Luis décimo tercio el año 1615,” in Anales de Madrid de León Pinelo. Reinado de Felipe III. Años 1598 a 1621, ed. Ricardo Martorell Téllez-Girón (Madrid: Estanislao Maestre, 1931), Apéndice II, 461–72. 24. Isabel de Borbón contributed to the Baroque culture of luxury, ostentation, and entertainment. In Queens of Old Spain (New York: McClure, Phillips, and Co., 1906), Martin Hume explains that “from October 1622, every Sunday and Thursday during the winter, as well as on holidays, comedias were performed by regular actors in her private theaters”—in the winter of 1622–23 alone, up to 43 comedias were performed (328–29). 25. Lidia Gutiérrez Arranz explains how Isabel performed as the Queen of Beauty, and that she, along with the rest of the actresses, did not have a line in the play; see “La mitología en La Gloria de Niquea del Conde de Villamediana,” in Paraninfos, segundones y epígonos de la comedia del Siglo de Oro, ed. Ignacio Arellano (Barcelona: Anthropos, 2004), 98. 26. José Antonio Maravall, La cultura del Barroco (Barcelona: Ariel, 1975), 475n80.

Introduction 15 Calderona, she eventually retired from the theater and entered the Benedictine Monastery of Saint John the Baptist in Valfermoso, where she and her daughter took vows.27 Regardless of María Calderón’s motivations for this transformation, her trajectory from actress to nun likely also speaks to the contradictions facing women at the time. Women were believed to be natural sinners who should aspire to be faithful, pious, domesticated Christians. In contradiction to this model, female actors earned their living publicly by putting their bodies on stage and impersonating numerous characters in often dubious moral circumstances. The possibility for salvation always existed, but women actors bore the brunt of a society that both enjoyed the spectacle of women on stage and admonished against such purportedly immoral behavior.28 Notably, La Calderona was one of many actors who abandoned their profession and took vows, a group that included Clara Camacho, María de Riquelme, María de Córdoba (the great “sultana Amarilis”), and Francisca Baltasara (“la Baltasara”), perhaps as part of a strategy to create an acceptable re-entry into non-acting society. This dynamic of working woman-turned-pious nun captures the contradictory nature of women’s entry into the acting world. In Castile, women had been allowed to act on public stages since a decree of 1587. From that date on, they were accused of being promiscuous, lustful, and too easily seduced by the jewels and presents that they received from the powerful men who fell for them.29 Such women were viewed as immoral, dishonest, and lascivious by moralists, theologians, and other detractors. These women were often confused with the roles they 27. Although most historians agree that her entry into the convent was mandated by the king’s first minister, the Count-Duke of Olivares, some have tried to show that the decision came from the actress herself. José Deleito y Piñuela, for example, recounts how la Calderona “threw herself at the king’s feet, bathed in tears, and begged him, as the mother of royal offspring, to be allowed to abandon that sinful life” because she wanted to “devote the rest of her days to sanctity.” See El rey se divierte (Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, 1935; rpt. Madrid: Alianza, 1988), 26–27; our translation. Those familiar with English history will be reminded of the later relationship between Charles II (1630–85) and the actor Nell Gwyn (1650–87), who had two sons by the king. 28. See Mimma de Salvo’s doctoral dissertation, “La mujer en la práctica escénica de los Siglos de Oro: La búsqueda de un espacio professional” (Universitat de València, 2006), in which the author discusses in detail the debate about the morality of the actress’s profession. 29. About the presence of women on Spanish stages, see Salvo, as well as Teresa Ferrer Valls, “Mujer y escritura dramática en el Siglo de Oro: Del acatamiento a la réplica de la convención teatral,” in Actas del Seminario “La presencia de la mujer en el teatro barroco español,” Almagro, 23 y 24 de julio de 1997, Colección Cuadernos Escénicos 5, ed. Mercedes de los Reyes Peña (Almagro: Junta de AndalucíaFestival Internacional de teagtro clásico de Almagro,1998), 11–32; and Ferrer Valls, “La incorporación de la mujer a la empresa teatral: Actrices, ‘autoras’ y empresarias de teatro en el Siglo de Oro,” in Calderón entre veras y burlas. Actas de las II y III Jornadas de Teatro Clásico de la Universidad de La Rioja (7, 8 y 9 de abril de 1999 y 17, 18 y 19 de mayo de 2000), ed. Francisco Domínguez Matito and Julián Bravo Vega (Logroño: Universidad de La Rioja, 2002), 139–60.

16 Introduction played, seen as embodying the lust, levity, and eroticism that, according to many moralists, was represented so realistically on stage.30 This attitude is captured in the 1589 Tratado de tribulación (Treatise on Tribulations) by Father Pedro Ri­ badeneyra: those public women who perform regularly are beautiful, lustful and have sold their honesty, and with the movements and expressions of their entire body, and with their soft voices, with those clothes and way of dressing, as sirens, they enchant and transform men into beasts, and ruin them as much as they are already ruined.31 Ribadeneyra’s voyeuristic comments reflect the complicated interaction between Catholic dogma and the realities of a new urban society. In addition to the mere presence of women on the stage, Spanish comedia pushed gender and sexuality boundaries even further through frequent crossdressing. Until Charles II put an end to the practice, only men and boys could appear on stage, yet the Spanish stage provided the opportunity for women to upset the social order even more dramatically by having women dress as men.32 La Baltasara, for example, was famous not only because of her beauty and her acting talent but also as a woman “dressed as a man, riding a horse, and playing the part of brave men in duels and challenges.”33 The common phenomenon of the mujer varonil (manly woman) or the mujer vestida de hombre (woman dressed as a man) incited many moralistic responses. There were many decrees regarding what women actors could wear, and many more about the scandalous nature of women’s tight and exposed clothing when dressed as their male counterparts.34 Melveena McKendrick’s classic study on cross-dressed female actors aptly asserts that these women “provided a pleasure of vivacious freedom and adventure” for 30. Alberto Castilla, “Seis autores en busca de una actriz: La Baltasara,” Actas del VIII Congreso de la Asociación Intenacional de Hispanistas: 22–27 Agosto 1983, Brown University, Providence, Rhode Island, ed. A. David Kossoff et al. (Madrid: Ediciones Istmo, 1986), 370. 31. Pedro de Ribadeneyra, Tratado de Tribulación [1589], 2 vols. in one (Palma: Imprenta y Librería de Estevan Trías, 1846), vol. 1, 109–10; our translation. 32. Charles II ended this practice by allowing women to perform on stage, leading to the celebrity of women such as Elizabeth Barry, Anne Bracegirdle, and Nell Gwyn. 33. Casiano Pellicer, quoted in Lola González, “Mujer y empresa teatral en la España del Siglo de Oro: El caso de la actriz y autora María de Navas,” Teatro de palabras: Revista sobre teatro áureo 2 (2008): 153. The original work cited is Pellicer’s Tratado histórico sobre el origen y progresos de la comedia y del histrionismo en España, vol. 2  (Madrid: Imprenta de la Administración del Real Arbitrio de Beneficiencia, 1804). 34. Regarding the numerous controversies surrounding Golden Age theater, see Emilio Cotarelo y Mori, Bibliografía de las controversias sobre la licitud del teatro en España [1904], facsimile edition (Granada: Universidad de Granada, 1997).

Introduction 17 both male and female audience members.35 The vicarious nature of the audience’s pleasure translated into great popularity for those actors known as cross-dressers, with playwrights creating roles with certain women in mind and audiences turning out in droves to see their favorite actors on the stage. As this push and pull between the moralists and popular taste suggests, women actors found themselves in the contradictory position of being simultaneously reviled and praised, marginalized and desired. Thus they repeatedly found themselves the subjects of specific decrees, including the 1615 law that required all female actors over the age of twelve to be married. Historians agree that this likely led to many unions forged out of convenience.36 Such is the case of Francisca Baltasara, married to Miguel Ruiz, the comic actor of the Heredia Company. As Alberto Castilla has explained, theirs was a friendly partnership: “the actress attracted the public and the money, while Ruiz was her accountant and her security guard.”37 Women actors constantly faced pressures about their behavior on and off stage, so it is perhaps not surprising that many eventually experienced conversions.38 La Baltasara’s stands out as one of the most dramatic: in the middle of a performance on stage, she heard God speak to her and decided to retreat to a convent. In so doing, La Baltasara became a living example of the road to perfection extolled in the many tales of sainthood found in hagiography both in the plastic and literary arts of the time. As Castilla notes, dramatizations of her conversion made their way to the stage, just as tales of the perfect preservation of her corpse were told long after her death. While other women actors did not have such a dramatic re-entry into society, La Baltasara’s story exemplifies the pressures on women to behave according to strict Catholic ideals, pressures that created a volatile combination with the work done by women on the public stage. Women also worked in the business side of theater during this period— some as autoras (producer/directors), some as empresarias (businesswomen). It was common for some female actors to carry out the administrative task of producing or overseeing productions, either independently or as their husbands’ or dead husbands’ representatives. Teresa Ferrer Valls has identified seventy-six women producer/directors, most of whom also acted in their own companies 35. Melveena McKendrick, Woman and Society in the Spanish Drama of the Golden Age: A Study of the mujer varonil (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1974), 316. On cross-dressing, see also Sherry Velasco, The Lieutenant Nun: Transgenderism, Lesbian Desire, and Catalina de Erauso (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2000). 36. See for example, José Deleito y Piñuela, … También se divierte el pueblo (Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, 1974), 17. 37. Alberto Castilla, “Seis autores en busca de una actriz: La Baltasara,” 367; our translation. 38. For a complete list of actresses of Golden Age Spain, see Salvo’s appendices in her doctoral thesis (537–79).

18 Introduction from the mid-sixteenth to the end of the seventeenth century in Spain.39 Some of the best known worked in the second half of the seventeenth century, including Francisca López and María de Navas, yet many directors’ wives are thought to have made important contributions to the smooth operation of theater companies throughout Spain during the period. Although the law decreed that married women could participate in business only with their husbands’ authorization, many documents exist confirming that women directed shows, hired actors, signed leases, purchased wardrobes, requested loans, and engaged in other normal business transactions of the trade. Such was the case of María de Córdoba (ca. 1597–1678; also known as Amarilis, La Gran Sultana), wife of the theater company manager Andrés de la Vega, who specified the payments owed to renowned playwright Pérez de Montalbán in her will.40 We do not yet have a full understanding of the role played by these businesswomen in the rise of theater in early modern Spain, but it is clear that the trade depended as much on women as it did on men to be empresarios, actors, and, as we suggest in this volume and below, playwrights.

Women Playwrights We have limited information about women playwrights in the early modern period. Even if we expand our consideration to the entire Spanish Atlantic world, we only have knowledge of approximately two dozen women who wrote plays in the territories of the Habsburg Empire, some from within the convent and some from without. Given that the elite classes throughout the empire read the same texts and were subject to similar socialization and educational protocols, it makes sense to consider these women as part of a broader intellectual diaspora. Probably the most famous playwright for the contemporary reader is the Mexican nun, Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (1648–95), who wrote both religious and secular plays that were performed in her day. Unfortunately, not all plays of which we have historical knowledge have been discovered in the archives. For instance, Mariana de Carvajal y Saavedra mentions in her novella collection, Navidades de Madrid (1663), that she has a book of twelve comedias ready to be published, yet we have no publication record for those texts. As more archival work is done each year, however, we learn more about women playwrights of the period.41 39. Teresa Ferrer Valls, “La mujer sobre el tablado en el siglo XVII: de actriz a autora,” in Damas en el tablado. Actas de las XXXI Jornadas Internacionales de teatro clásico de Almagro (1–3 de julio de 2008), ed. Felipe B. Pedraza, Rafael González Cañal, and Almudena García González (Almagro: Universidad de Castilla-La Mancha, 2009), 83–100. See also Salvo’s appendix on this topic (531–38). 40. Ferrer Valls, “La mujer sobre el tablado,” 94. 41. This list has been created following the information provided in the catalogues compiled by María Isabel Barbeito Carneiro, Escritoras madrileñas del siglo XVII (estudio bibliográfico-crítico) (Madrid:

Introduction 19 Table 1 lists the women playwrights we currently know of who lived and wrote between 1500 and 1750 in Iberia and Ibero-America. The parenthetical notation “nd” means no date; an asterisk (*) indicates that the play has been lost, and “extant MS” indicates that a manuscript copy of the work exists. Table 1: Known Women Playwrights in Iberia and Ibero-America (1500–1750) Author / Birth and Death Dates

Known Plays

Acevedo, Ángela de (Lisbon, ca. 1600–?)

• Dicha y desdicha del juego y devoción de la Virgen (nd) • La Margarita del Tajo que dio nombre a Santarén (nd) • El muerto disimulado (nd)

Anonymous (1600s)

• Máscara que se corrió en el patio del Buen Retiro de las Trinitarias Descalzas de esta corte a la recuperada salud de nuestro Católico Rey, que Dios guarde (performed May 18, 1692)

Caro Mallén, Ana (Granada, 1590–1650)

• Loa sacramental (performed 1639) • Auto sacramental, La puerta de la Macarena (performed 1641)* • Auto sacramental, La cuesta de la Castilleja (performed 1642)* • El conde de Partinuplés (published 1653) • Valor, agravio y mujer (nd)

Correa, Isabel (Lisbon, ca. 1650–Amsterdam, 1700)

• El pastor Fido, poëma de Baptista Guarino, traducido de italiano en metro español, y ilustrado con reflexiones por doña Isabel Correa (published 1694)

Cueva y Silva, Leonor de la (Medina del Campo, 1603–?)

• La firmeza en la ausencia (nd)

Universidad Complutense, 1986); Nicolás Antonio, Bibliotheca Hispana Vetus: Sive hispani scriptores qui ab Octaviani Augusti aevo ad annum Christi MD floruerunt (Madrid: Apud viduam et heredes Ioachimi Ibarrae, 1788); Fernando Doménech, “Autoras en el teatro español. Siglos XVI y XVII”; and Manuel Serrano y Sanz, Apuntes para una biblioteca de escritoras españolas desde el año 1401 al 1833, 2 vols. (Madrid: Rivadeneira, 1903–5).

20 Introduction Egual y Miguel, María (Castellón de la Plana, 1655–Valencia, 1735)

• Loa for the comedia by Agustín de Salazar y Torres, También se ama en el abismo (nd)* • Los prodigios de Tesalia (nd) • Triunfos de amor en el aire (nd)

Enríquez de Guzmán, Feliciana (Seville, 1569–ca. 1643–44)

• Tragicomedia de los jardines y campos sabeos (performed 1623, published 1624); includes four interludes

Ferreira de la Cerda, Bernarda (Oporto, 1595–Lisbon, 1644)

• La buena y la mala amistad (nd)* • Cazador del cielo (nd)*

Francisca de Teresa, Sor (Madrid, 1654–1709)

• Coloquio espiritual de las finezas del Amor Divino (performed 1677) • Coloquio para la profesión de sor Rosa de Santa María (performed 1680) • Loa a la profesión de sor Rosa (prologue to the Coloquio) (1680) • Coloquio para la profesión de Sor Manuela Petronila (performed 1700) • Coloquio para representar en la profesión de sor Angela María de San José (performed 1702) • Coloquio para la víspera de la Nochebuena (1706) • Coloquio para la noche del Infante del año de 1708 (1708) • Coloquio al nacimiento de Nuestro Redentor (nd) • Otro [coloquio] al Nacimiento de Nuestro Salvador de gitanillas (nd) • Entremés del estudiante y la sorda (nd) • Sainetillo al mismo asunto (al Nacimiento de Nuestro Salvador) (nd)

Gregoria de Santa Teresa, Sor (Seville, 1653–1736)

• Coloquio espiritual a la beatificación de San Juan de la Cruz (nd)*

Juana Inés de la Cruz, Sor (San Miguel de Nepantla, 1648–Mexico City, 1695)42

• El Divino Narciso (ca. 1688), includes Loa (published 1691) • El Mártir del Sacramento, San Hermenegildo (ca. 1680–88), includes a Loa (published 1692)

42. Note that Sor Juana’s birthdate remains somewhat controversial, but recent consensus points to 1648 as her likely birth year instead of the previously accepted year of 1651.

Introduction 21 • El cetro de José (ca. 1680–88), includes a Loa (published 1692) • Loa de la Concepción (performed 1675, published 1692) • Loa en Celebración de los años del Rey nuestro Señor Don Carlos II (performed ca. 1674–89, published 1689) • Loa a los años del Rey [II] (performed ca. 1680, published 1689) • Loa a los años del Rey [III] (performed ca. 1680–83, published 1692) • Loa a los años del Rey [IV] que celebra don José de la Cerda, primogénito del señor Virrey Conde de Paredes (performed 1683, published 1689) • Loa a los años del Rey [V] (performed 1684, published 1689) • Loa a los años de la Reina nuestra, Señora Doña María Luisa de Borbón (performed ca. 1680–83, published 1689) • Loa a los años de la Reina Madre, Doña Mariana de Austria, nuestra señora (performed ca. 1689–90, published 1692) • Loa a los felices años del señor Virrey, Marqués de la Laguna (performed ca. 1680–83, published 1689) • Loa en las huertas donde fue a divertirse la Excma Sra. Condesa de Paredes, Marquesa de Laguna (performed ca. 1680–83, published 1689) • Loa al año que cumplió el señor don José de la Cerda, primogénito del Sr. Virrey Marqués de la Laguna (performed 1684, published 1689) • Encomiástico poema a los años de la Excma. Condesa de Galve (performed ca. 1689–92, published 1692) • Loa a los años del Revmo. Padre Maestro Fray Diego Velázquez de la Cadena (performed 1687– 88, published 1689) • La segunda Celestina (performed in 1676, published ca. 17th century) • Festejo de Los empeños de una casa—includes Loa, comedia, Sainete primero de Palacio, Sainete

22 Introduction segundo, Sarao de cuatro naciones (performed 1683, published 1692) • Festejo de Amor es más Laberinto—includes Loa a los años del Excelentísimo Señor Conde de Galve, comedia (performed 1689, published 1692) Juana Maldonado y Paz, Sor (Antigua Guatemala, 1598–1666)

• Entretenimiento en obsequio de la huida a Egipto (nd)

Juana María, Sor (Abancay, • Coloquio a la Natividad del Señor (ca. 1747; Peru, 1696–Lima, 1748) extant MS) • Coloquio al Sagrado Misterio de la Circuncisión (ca. 1747; extant MS) • Coloquio al Sagrado Misterio de los Santos Reyes (ca. 1747; extant MS ) • Coloquio de Julio y Menga, pastores, para celebrar al niño Jesús (ca. 1747; extant MS) • Coloquio que se ha de decir en la Dominica del Niño Perdido (ca. 1747; extant MS ) Marcela de San Félix, Sor (Toledo, 1605–Madrid, 1687)

• Coloquio espiritual de la estimación de la religión (nd) • Coloquio espiritual del Nacimiento (nd) • Coloquio espiritual del Santisimo Sacramento (nd) • Coloquio espiritual “de virtudes” (nd) • Coloquio espiritual “El celo indiscreto” (1659; extant MS) • Coloquio espiritual intitulado “Muerte del apetito” (nd) • Loa (I) (nd) • Loa (II) (nd) • Loa (III) (nd) • Loa (IV) (nd) • Loa a una profesión (V) (nd) • Loa a una profesión (VI) (nd) • Loa a la soledad de las celdas (VII) (performed 1646) • Loa en la profesión de la Hermana Isabel del Santísimo Sacramento (VIII) (performed 1656)

Introduction 23 María do Céu, Sor (Lisbon, 1658–1723)

• Five Autos Sacramentales, published in Triunfo del Rosario, dado á estampa pelo Padre Francisco da Costa (1740) • Three Autos Sacramentales, published in Obras varias de la madre María do Ceo (1744) • En la cara va la fecha (nd)* • En la más oscura noche (nd)* • Preguntarlo a las estrellas (nd)*

Meneses, Juana Josefa (Lisbon, 1652–1709)

• Contienda del amor divino y humano (nd) • El divino imperio de Amor (nd) • El duelo de las finezas (nd)

Ruano, Margarita (ca. late 17th century; married 1702)

• Baile de las posadas de Madrid (1692; extant MS)

Silva, Isabel de (Lisbon, 1658–?)

• Celos abren los cielos. Comedia de Santa Iria (nd)*

Souza, Juana Teodora de (Lisbon, late 1600s–?)

• El gran prodigio de España, y lealtad de un amigo (nd)

Souza e Mello, Beatriz de • La vida de Santa Helena, y invención de la Cruz (Torres Novas, ca. 1650–ca. (nd)* 1700) • Yerros enmendados, y alma arrepentida (nd)* Zayas y Sotomayor, María (Madrid, 1590–ca. 1660)

• La traición en la amistad (ca. 1628–32)

Most of these plays were never published, and most are not known to have been performed in their day. Where exceptions exist, those playwrights are all the more extraordinary for having successfully broken the gender barriers for publication and performance during their lifetimes. Ana Caro Mallén stands out as an extraordinary exception: her play, El conde Partinuplés (Count Partinuplés), was published in Madrid in 1653. She had an auto staged as part of the Corpus Christi festival in Seville, and is on record as having received payment for her work over a period of several years.43 It should be noted that the experience of women writers outside of the theater was similarly challenging. Only a few, including María de Zayas and Mariana de Carvajal, broke the publication barrier in Spain’s seventeenth century. In this regard the stage does not stand out as being particularly different from the nascent 43. Lola Luna, “Ana Caro, una escritora ‘de oficio’ del Siglo de Oro,” Bulletin of Hispanic Studies 72, no. 1 (1995): 11–26.

24 Introduction publishing industry, and the similarities remind us that women intellectuals were anomalies in a society that valued women’s enclosure, silence, and chastity. In Valor agravio y mujer (Valor, Offense, Woman), Ana Caro draws attention to this tension. The comic character Ribete proclaims that everything is out of date in Madrid, with the only novelty being that “there are women who want to be poets and now they are even daring to make comedias.”44 For their intelligence and perhaps for their entrée into the male world of writing, many women playwrights were known in the literary circles of their times and respected by their peers. Well-known playwrights Alonso Castillo Solórzano and Luis Vélez de Guevara, for example, celebrated Caro’s accomplishments in writing. Similarly, Lope de Vega and his circle of friends were faithful admirers of Sor Marcela’s plays, praising her wit and intelligence. Records of some women writers’ participation in important literary salons of their day point to the fact that, at least in some circles and among some educated members of the elite, women’s writing earned approbation and praise.45

Overview of the Authors in the Book There are many fine female playwrights of this era, and we have chosen three for their diverse representation of style, context, and thematics. By many accounts, Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán is the first woman known to have written for the public stage in Spain. We do not have evidence to suggest that her work was performed on that stage during her lifetime except for a comment by the author herself, who in the prologue to the first part refers to its performance in Seville, in 1624, in the presence of Felipe IV.46 Enríquez de Guzmán’s dramaturgy stands out for its sophistication and navigation of serious and comic themes. Her best-known play is the two-part Tragicomedia de los jardines y campos sabeos (Tragicomedy of the Sheban Gardens and Fields). The first part explores two affairs: Prince Clarisel of Sparta’s love for Princess Belidiana of Arabia, and Lisdanso, King of Macedonia, and his love for Clarinda, Princess of Cyprus. With the help of mythological creatures, the play ends with the promise of nuptials. The second part occurs after time has passed and the marriage arrangements toppled. Mythological creatures have an even greater role here as the plot moves toward marriage once again. 44. “Ya es todo muy Viejo allá; / sólo en esto de poetas / hay notable novedad / por innumerables tanto / que aun quieren poetizar las mujeres / y se atreven a hacer comedias ya” (Soufas, Women’s Acts, 176, lines 1164–70; our translation). 45. For a brief overview of these women’s relationship to the writing culture of their day, see Soufas, Dramas of Distinction, 1–11; and Doménech, “Autoras en el teatro español. Siglos XVI–XVII,” 397. 46. Cayetano Alberto de la Barrera y Leirado, Catálogo bibliográfico y biográfico del teatro antiguo español: Desde sus orígenes hasta mediados del siglo XVIII (Madrid, 1860), facsimile edition (London: Tamesis Books, 1968), 143.

Introduction 25 The play is accompanied by two interludes, each with two parts, all translated in this edition. Invoking mythology, courtship, marriage, and gender roles, these interludes echo the themes of the main plays, but do so with tremendous word play and bawdiness, taking audiences on the sort of comic romp that would have been expected between the acts of a more serious play. This work provides readers with insight into the important role played by interludes in theater culture of the day, while also giving us a glimpse into one woman writer’s foray into the bawdy side of theater. As the only known writer to be paid for her plays in early modern Spain, Seville’s Ana Caro Mallén stands out for her ability to break a significant gender barrier. The play included in this volume, Count Partinuplés, will remind readers of Shakespeare’s Portia and her battles with gender norms in The Merchant of Venice. Here, the Empress of Constantinople, Rosaura, confronts the need to choose a husband from among her many suitors, and devises a complex scheme to control her own destiny. Enchantment and treachery pepper the plot as Rosaura seeks to achieve her own goals while also complying with her responsibilities to her people and her kingdom. Rosaura is a strong character seeking to forge her own destiny within a complex social structure that places many restrictions on women’s behavior and desires. Count Partinuplés—like Caro’s other known play, Valor, Offense, Woman—was clearly written for the public stage, yet we have no record of the performance of either play during her lifetime. Of all known women playwrights of the period, Sor Marcela de San Félix had the closest known relationship to the theater. An illegitimate daughter of Lope de Vega, she entered the convent at a young age and eventually became abbess before her death at age 82. Sor Marcela’s plays stand out for their tremendous wit, sophisticated language, and reliance on humor as an educational tool. Nuns wrote primarily for other members of the church, including confessors and other nuns. They also corresponded with friends, patrons, and business partners. Some texts formed part of the daily business of the convent: convent histories, lists of purchases, and inventories of food fall into this category. Yet nuns also wrote biographies, memoirs, poetry, songs, plays, and instructional texts, principally for the benefit of their sisters and, sometimes, for the priests as well. Like other nuns who wrote, Sor Marcela likely performed in her own plays. This likelihood makes references to the sour personality of the pantry keeper even funnier since she herself had that job in her convent for many years. These and other references to her personality and physical traits are woven throughout her plays. In combination with the works by Enríquez de Guzmán and Caro in this volume, Sor Marcela’s work serves as a powerful reminder of the tremendous female literary talent that could be found within and without the convent walls in early modern Spain.

26 Introduction

Conclusion As suggested by this introduction and by the dramatic texts included in this volume, diversity of experience and opportunity defined life for women in early modern Spain. Enríquez de Guzmán, Caro, and Sor Marcela are only three of the dozens of women known to have written in the early modern period. In this sense, these women are not unique. Yet within the broader cultural context of a society that urged women to stay home and seek only a limited domestic education, these and other known women authors defied injunctions against women’s intellectualism in fundamentally inspirational ways. There is no denying that there are commonalities to be found among women’s texts from this period, but we should also read their work with attention to each author’s unique style and unique engagement with the issues of her day. It should not be forgotten, however, that by engaging with the theater, each of the authors featured in this volume necessarily also engaged with definitions of sexuality, gender, and decorum in early modern Catholic society. With this in mind, we encourage you to read these texts with an eye toward understanding the changing role of women in early modern Spain. The playwrights featured here took up the pen during a time in which women increasingly played important roles in the new urban economy, and in which the decline of the empire led many to believe that the very foundations of Spanish masculinity were in crisis. Enter the women who wrote within the convent and without in a bold demonstration of female intellectualism, and in an era that disparaged that potential and the threat it represented. We hope you enjoy the texts in this volume as much as you find that they challenge you to explore these and other questions raised by the many women who chose to express themselves in writing in the early modern period. These women are part of the tradition of “other voices” of early modern Europe, voices that have only recently come to light and whose importance we continue to appreciate and decipher.

A Note on the Translations Every act of translation is its own creative act, and every work to be translated poses its own unique set of challenges and opportunities. There is no one-sizefits-all solution in this strange and beautiful endeavor of becoming a medium between languages, a bridge across centuries. Most seventeenth-century Spanish dramatic verse features shorter lines than we are accustomed to in Shakespearean English. Eight-syllable lines are the norm, although there are many exceptions. For those accustomed to reading or listening to Doctor Faustus or King Lear, these Spanish lines look different on the page and feel different on the tongue. The result is a lighter, more effervescent stage language that often clips along at allegro, tumbling over itself as it hops from line to line and conceit to conceit. Due to the brevity of each line, the language is also prone to stopping more abruptly than some might expect. This short-line quality is fundamental to Golden Age Spanish theater, and I believe translations should reflect this rhythm. Otherwise, we risk pouring seventeenth-century Castilian into the heavier, graver mold of iambic pentameter and making these plays come out looking and sounding like Shakespearean knockoffs. At the same time, we need some flexibility from the rigid syllable count of traditional meter. Where to find it? Generally, I measure lines not by syllable but by stress. Here, the eightsyllable Spanish lines become lines that can justifiably be spoken with four beats in English, even if the result is often greater or fewer than an exact eight syllables to a given line. For the most part, my translations do not mirror the rhyme scheme of the original Spanish. There are places, however, where the rhyme should land crisply and unapologetically: the songs, poems, and toasts in Enriquez’s interludes; the magic castle song and the competitors’ motes in Count Partinuplés. These need to stand out as set pieces, and so here the scheme directly mirrors the Spanish, using full rhymes. Notably, these are the places where I likely have taken the biggest liberties with literal meaning to preserve the rhymes. The long sections of Mindless Zeal written in rhymed couplets also rhyme crisply here, although in a slightly different pattern. There are, as well, a handful of places in Partinuplés where Caro uses more formal, heightened, or lengthened forms of verse, and I have attempted to lend a quality of difference or formality to their renderings in English. Overall, each of these translations tends to vary slightly internally in tone and style, depending on the moment and the scene. Three of the interludes by Enríquez were written predominantly in prose, so the English here is correspondingly in prose. Yet I aspire here to maintain some of the strangeness of Enríquez’s heightened language and spiraling syntax, while also searching out parallel English choices to convey the rapid-fire puns and word play. 27

28 A Note on the Translations Overall, my goal has been to produce translations that have a contemporary, lively verve without crossing the line into what translation theorists call “domestication,” meaning translations that sap texts of what is foreign, different, difficult, or seemingly strange about them. These plays come from a time and culture other than our own, and often take up non-normative positions (thematically and linguistically) even for their times. These translations therefore ask the reader to make the journey to another world—or at least to meet these works halfway. While inevitably the voices of these three writers will blend through the filter of my own sensibility, I hope the reader can still sense the distinct personalities here: the wild rhetoric, spiraling intellectual conceits, and multilayered parody of Enríquez; the lively, funny, perhaps more recognizable theater voice of Caro, who draws upon rhetoric and ideas common to the Baroque professional stage; and the grounded, straightforward, yet winking comedy of Sor Marcela, who consistently invites her audience to be in on her joke. Among the many women playwrights of the period, I chose these three writers, through these ten works, because they represent comic voices that convey an outrageously wide range of theatrical possibilities and linguistic playfulness—and also because none of these plays has ever been translated before into English or any other language. I am indebted to many scholars whose published editions of these plays have made this work possible without years of archival research. In this spirit, I am thankful for Felicidad González Santamera and Fernando Doménech’s edition of the first two Enríquez entreactos and Teresa Soufas’s edition of the second two, with additional support from Luis C. Pérez for all four; Electa Arenal and Georgina Sabat Rivers’s collected works of Sor Marcela; and Lola Luna’s edition of Caro’s play, with additional support from Soufas. I hope the footnotes provide important context not only for those reading the plays for the first time, but also for those who may already be familiar with the original Spanish. To this end, the footnotes indicate verse shifts and generally alert the interested reader to key translation choices. Finally, I would like particularly to thank Julio Vélez Sainz, whose ideas and input were a great help in choosing the plays to be included here.



FOUR COMIC INTERLUDES TO THE TRAGICOMEDY OF THE SHEBAN GARDENS AND FIELDS by FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN

Biographical Note As the likely candidate for being the first female playwright to write for the public stage in the history of the Spanish theater, Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán occupies a place of honor in the literature of Spain’s Golden Age.1 Born in Seville around 1569 to Diego García de Torre and María Enríquez de Guzmán, Feliciana was one of three daughters and a son who decided to take their mother’s last name, probably because it was more prestigious than their father’s.2 Not much is known about her childhood. Some critics have speculated that she was the same Feliciana who attended the University of Salamanca while crossdressing as a man; Lope de Vega calls her a new Sappho (nueva Safo) in his Laurel de Apolo (Laurel of Apollo, 1630) when he refers to a woman who changed her name, cross-dressed, and studied philosophy at the university. No evidence exists to support this speculation, however. She married twice in Seville: first to Cristóbal Ponce Solís y Farfán in 1616, and then to Francisco de León Garavito in 1619. She had no children. Through her second husband, Feliciana had access to a very rich and varied library that formed and informed her work.3 By 1640, Enríquez de Guzmán was already a widow for a second time, and almost blind. She wrote a will and then amended it in 1643, leaving her estate to her niece Teresa de Guzmán. She also left money to the friars of San Agustín in Seville, who had supported her in years of need.4 As is presumed of Ana Caro, Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán likely died during the plague that struck Seville in the middle of the seventeenth century, probably

1. Fernando Doménech refers to Paula Vicente, Gil Vicente’s daughter, as an “hypothetical precedent” to Enríquez de Guzmán, only if we accept Nicolás Antonio’s attribution to Vicente of a play in Portuguese, entitled O Cerco de Dio. For more information, see Doménech, “Autoras en el teatro español. Siglos XVI–XVII,” in Autoras en la historia del teatro español (1500–1994), ed. Juan Antonio Hormigón, vol. 1 (Madrid: Asociación de directores de escena españoles, 1996), 392–604. See also M. Reina Ruiz, Monstruos, mujer y teatro en el Barroco: Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán, primera dramaturga española, Currents in Comparative Romance Languages and Literatures 141 (New York: Peter Lang, 2005), 2n2. 2. Detailed information about her family, parents, sisters, two marriages, and library has been recently published by Piedad Bolaños Donoso in a superb and very complete biography, entitled, Doña Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán: Crónica de un fracaso vital (1569–1644) (Sevilla: Publicaciones de la Universidad de Sevilla, 2012). 3. Piedad Bolaños Donoso, “Doña Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán y sus fuentes literarias: Examen de la biblioteca de don Francisco de León Garavito,” Teatro de palabras: Revista sobre teatro áureo 1 (2007): 1–28. 4. For the full details of her will, see Bolaños Donoso, Doña Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán: Crónica de un fracaso vital, 233–54.

30

Four Interludes 31 between 1643 and 1644. However, we have no confirmation of this hypothesis to date. Her only known work is the Tragicomedia de los jardines y campos sabeos (Tragicomedy of the Sheban Gardens and Fields), a play that Feliciana seems to have started in 1599 and completed in 1619. It was published in 1624 in Coimbra and Lisbon, and again in 1627 in Lisbon.5 Along with the four interludes (translated for this edition), the play consists of two parts, framed by the usual paratexts: the prologue to the reader and a formal proclamation via a letter patent (carta ejecutoria). In both texts, added to the second revised edition of 1627, Feliciana demonstrates her knowledge of the theater, criticizing the comedias of the time as well as Lope de Vega’s new comedia rules. Also appearing in the 1627 edition were various dedications to her sisters, who were nuns (Part I), and to her second husband (Part II). The interludes are introduced after the second and fourth acts of the Tragicomedy (Part I and II, respectively). Although independent from the main play, the interludes mirror the play’s plot and characters in a distorted and carnivalesque way. We have no information confirming if the play was ever performed on stage, at least in public theaters. In fact, Feliciana expressed the desire that her play not be staged in the corrales, but only in royal and aristocratic palaces, or otherwise read in the private rooms of those who loved literature. However, according to Barrera y Leirado, and based on a comment that appears in the prologue to the first part, it was performed in Seville, in 1624, in the presence of Felipe IV.6

5. Doménech, “Autoras en el teatro español,” 446–47. 6. Cayetano Alberto de la Barrera y Leirado, Catálogo bibliográfico y biográfico del teatro antiguo español: Desde sus orígenes hasta mediados del siglo XVIII (Madrid, 1860), facsimile edition (London: Tamesis Books, 1968), 143.

Select Bibliography Editions González Santamera, Felicidad, and Fernando Doménech, eds. “Entreactos de la Tragicomedia de los jardines y campos sabeos.” In Teatro de mujeres del Barroco, with an introduction by María Subirats and Juan Antonio Hormigón, 173–217. Madrid: RESAC, 1994. Pérez, Louis C., ed. The Dramatic Works of Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán. Vol. 48. Valencia: Albatros Hispanófila, 1988. Serrano y Sanz, Manuel, ed. Entreactos. By Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán. In Apuntes para una biblioteca de escritoras españolas desde el año 1401 al 1833, vol. 1, 372–84. Madrid: Rivadeneira, 1903. Soufas, Teresa S., ed. “Entreactos de la segunda parte de la Tragicomedia Los jardines y campos sabeos, de Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán.” In Women’s Acts: Plays by Women Dramatists of Spain’s Golden Age, 229–58. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1997. Vélez Sanz, Julio, and Gemma Rodríguez Ibarra, eds. “Entreactos de Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán y Loas de Sor Marcela de San Félix.” In Dramaturgas barrocas, teatro breve. Madrid: El Corpus Digital de Teatro Breve Español (CORTBE), 2015. .

Studies Barrera y Leirado, Cayetano Alberto de la. Catálogo bibliográfico y biográfico del teatro antiguo español: Desde sus orígenes hasta mediados del siglo XVIII (Madrid, 1860). Facsimile reproduction. London: Tamesis Books, 1968. Bolaños Donoso, Piedad. Doña Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán: Crónica de un fracaso vital (1569–1644). Sevilla: Publicaciones de la Universidad de Sevilla, 2012. __________. “Doña Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán y sus fuentes literarias: Examen de la biblioteca de don Francisco de León Garavito.” Teatro de palabras: Revista sobre teatro áureo 1 (2007): 1–28. Bonis, Maite Pascual. “Recepción de la comicidad a través del vestuario en representaciones actuales de teatro del Siglo de Oro: El caballero de Olmedo de Francisco A. de Monteser y ‘Las Gracias Mohosas’ de Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán.” Cuadernos de teatro clásico 13 (2000): 211–28. Doménech, Fernando. “Autoras en el teatro español. Siglos XVI–XVII.” In Autoras en la historia del teatro español (1500–1994), edited by Juan Antonio Hormigón, vol 1, 392–604. Madrid: Asociación de directores de escena españoles, 1996. 32

Four Interludes 33 Dougherty, Deborah. “La autocreación en la obra de Ana Caro Mallén y Feliciana Enríquez Guzmán, dramatistas del Siglo de Oro.” In Fronteras finiseculares en la literatura del mundo hispánico (XVI Simposio Internacional de Literatura, 1998), edited by Vicente Granados Palomares, 109–14. Madrid: Universidad Nacional de Educación a Distancia, 2000. Ferrer Valls, Teresa. “ ‘Locuras y sinrazones son las verdades’: La figura del gracioso en las obras dramáticas escritas por mujeres.” La construcción de un personaje: El gracioso, edited by Luciano García Lorenzo, 297–316. Madrid: Editorial Fundamentos, 2005. Montoto de Sedas, Santiago. Doña Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán. Sevilla: Imprenta de la Diputación provincial, 1915. Rosa Cubo, Cristina de la. “Transgresiones de género y parodia mítica en Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán.” In Vivir al margen: Mujer, poder e institución literaria, edited by María Pilar Celma Valero and Mercedes Rodríguez Pequeño, 197–206. Burgos: Instituto Castellano y Leonés de la Lengua, 2009. Ruiz, M. Reina. “Cervantes, Góngora y Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán: Voces discordantes de la monarquía cómica.” In Cuatrocientos años del “Arte nuevo de hacer comedias” de Lope de Vega: Actas selectas del XIV Congreso de la Asociación Internacional de Teatro Español y Novohispano de los Siglos de Oro: Olmedo, 20 al 23 de julio de 2009, edited by Germán Vega Garcia-Luengos and Héctor Urzáiz Tortajada, vol. 2, 929–36. Valladolid: Secretariado de Publicaciones e Intercambio Editorial, 2010. __________. “Entreactos de la Tragicomedia de los Jardines y campos sabeos: Galería cómica de monstruos y deformes.” Hispania 87, no. 4 (2004): 665–74. __________. Monstruos, mujer y teatro en el Barroco: Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán, primera dramaturga española. Currents in Comparative Romance Languages and Literatures 141. New York: Peter Lang, 2005. __________. “De orgía y bacanal a sátira política: Entreactos de la segunda parte de los Jardines y campos sabeos de Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán.” Bulletin of the Comediantes 57, no. 1 (2005): 107–24. Serrano y Sanz, Manuel. “Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán.” In Apuntes para una biblioteca de escritoras españolas desde el año 1401 al 1833, vol. 1, 556–88. Madrid: Rivadeneira, 1903. Soufas, Teresa S. Dramas of Distinction: A Study of Plays by Golden Age Women. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1997. Vélez Sainz, Julio. “Alabanza política y crítica literaria en la Tragicomedia de los jardines y campos sabeos de Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán.” Bulletin of the Comediantes 57, no. 1 (2005): 91–105. Walthaus, Rina. “ ‘A Garden of her Own’: Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán and her Tragicomedia de los jardines y campos sabeos.” In A Place of Their Own: Women Writers and Their Social Environments (1450–1700), ed. Anne Bollmann, 121–34. Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, 2011.

Plot and Analysis These four interludes, richly adorned literary versions of the sorts of entr’acte entertainments (entremeses) that would be performed at the act breaks in the public theaters, echo the work of Enríquez’s contemporary from Seville, the painter Diego Velázquez, for the way they mix picaresque detail of everyday life with the characters and tales of ancient mythology. Enríquez turns the world of the gods upside down; what is upright, graceful, and balanced here becomes “slouching,” grotesque, and monstrous. Unlike Velázquez, however, Enríquez is rewriting mythology from a woman’s perspective. The burlesque and parodical First and Second Interludes to Part One of the Tragicomedy introduce a variety of deformed, disabled, deaf and blind characters, a far cry from the noble men and women who populate the comedias. A group of six disabled men compete for the love of three so-called “molded” graces in a direct parody of the Three Graces of classical mythology. With vulgar and ironic language that breaks away from the elegant language of the Tragicomedy, the men fight first athletically and then poetically for the hands of the Three Graces. Because the graces refuse to choose partners, the competition is resolved through polygamy, with all three graces marrying all six suitors. The play allows for an open sexual transgression not possible for women in seventeenth-century Seville. The First and Second Interludes to Part Two of the Tragicomedy continue with a mythological parody, this time by introducing Bacchus, Apollo, Pan, Silenus, and many others in a comic way. On the recommendation of Silenus, the drunken gods start a drinking contest. As expected, Bacchus wins. After Apollo insults both love and wine, a new competition begins, this time between Pan and Apollo in a parody of the same episode from Ovid’s Metamorphoses. In the second part, Midas, accompanied by his servant, Lichas, appears on stage, this time parodically introducing the myth of Apollo and Daphne, also from the Metamorphoses. In the end, every character undergoes a series of comical transformations and metamorphoses—a fitting conclusion in the carnivalesque world of Enríquez’s rich imagination.

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First Interlude to Part One7 [A street at midnight.] (Enter a one-eyed man named Sheba,8 with a scar from ear to ear, one leg balanced on a half-crutch, and a walking stick; and a blind man named Panchaia,9 also with a scar, one leg balanced on a half-crutch, a walking stick, with a little dog on a little leash.) SHEBA Look, Panchaia. The magnificent façade of my lady’s house. PANCHAIA And how am I supposed to see it? SHEBA With that tenacious, donkey-like memory of yours. PANCHAIA I’ve been warning you urgently for days—and, look, I haven’t gotten angry yet, good friend Sheba, even if you are an Arabian metropolis and the site of Belerante’s court, may Bacchus keep it for many years. If you must poke fun at me, don’t poke 7. This interlude would have been performed between Acts Two and Three of The Tragicomedy of the Sheban Gardens and Fields, Part One. The two interludes to Part One follow the 1627 edition of the play, as edited by González Santamera and Doménech, “Entreactos de la Tragicomedia de los jardines y campos sabeos” (hereafter cited as “Entreactos”). Their edition varies significantly from the 1624 edition, which has a dedication by the author to her cousin, Ana Enríquez, dated October 9, 1619. For a comprehensive listing of variants between the 1624 and 1627 editions of all four interludes, see Louis C. Pérez, ed., The Dramatic Works of Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán, vol. 48 (Valencia: Albatros Hispanófila, 1988). In 2008, adaptations of the interludes to Part One were performed in Spain by Teatro de Velador under the title Las gracias mohosas (The Moldy Graces). 8. Sheba: from the ancient region in southern Arabia, which provides the setting for the Tragicomedy (as Panchaia’s subsequent dialogue explains). 9. Panchaia: from the mythical island utopia (sometimes understood to be in the vicinity of Arabia) in the Indian Ocean referred to in Euhemerus of Messene’s Sacred History (ca. 300 BC). Euhemerus’s island was associated with sensual pleasure, the rationalist idea that the gods have human origins, and, perhaps, darkness, as suggested by the fact that nineteenth-century astronomers used the word to name a dark region of Mars. Enríquez comically exploits all of these associations. Interestingly, Lope de Vega cites the word in his New Art of Writing Comedias (1609) as an example of excessively flowery word choice. Enríquez characteristically seems to be poking fun both at Lope and at herself.

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36 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN me in the eyes.10 Don’t taunt these eyes of mine because if I stick my fist in the only eye lighting our way, we’ll both be left in the dark. Is this the magnificent façade, you genius? SHEBA Just say “Sheba,” Panchaia. Just say “Sheba.” PANCHAIA Isn’t this my little Aglaea’s house?

(Feeling with his hands.)

SHEBA This is the splendid house where lives my lady Aglaea,11 the oldest of the Three Moldy Graces. PANCHAIA Traitor! Enemy of my honor! She who with a glance of her eyes gave me her vow of marriage! You dare call my darling12 your lady? SHEBA A pretty pair of lies, Panchaia! Aglaea’s blind in one eye, like I am. You’re blind in both eyes, like the two of us put together. So how could she speak to you with her eyes? PANCHAIA How materialistic you are, Sheba, despite all your grand wisdom! Just as the body has eyes, doesn’t the soul?

Yes.

SHEBA

10. The Spanish, invoking a “cuervo” (crow), plays on the double meaning between “bothering someone” and “pecking out their eyes.” 11. Not the oldest, but the youngest of the Three Graces or “Charites” of classical mythology, sister to Euphrosyne and Thalia. Aglaea, whose name means “splendor,” naturally lives in a “splendid house.” Generally held to be daughters of Zeus and Eurynome, the Three Graces represented hospitality, pleasures, and the arts (González and Doménech, “Entreactos,” 188). In some retellings, they were understood to be Bacchus’s daughters. As in the more elevated Tragicomedy, Enríquez freely mixes mythological figures with original characters, though here the tone is ludic and picaresque. 12. Almona mía: obscure compliment, perhaps from the Arabic al-mann, meaning “grace” or “gift.” Could also refer to a soap factory or a fishery (González and Doménech, “Entreactos,” 188).

Four Interludes 37

Well, those are enough.

No, they’re not!

Yes, they are!

PANCHAIA

SHEBA

PANCHAIA

(They begin to throw punches at each other.) (Enter a hunchback named Nysa,13 with one leg balanced on a half-crutch, and a walking stick; and a cripple named Anga,14 his knees in a basket and his hands on the ground in a pair of women’s heeled clogs.) NYSA Anga, aren’t you ashamed to be looking to marry? ANGA You’re not ashamed, Nysa. Why should I be? NYSA Who’s the skinny mare with frizzy gray hair you’re after? She’ll need clogs like those to defend herself from the indignity of thorns. Lovers see flowing curls where others see a ringwormed scalp.15 Is she some she-wolf who always picks the worst sheep in the flock? PANCHAIA Let go of me, traitor! You’re breaking my leg! You’re baking my egg! Let go of my extremity, you’re fracturing my solemnity, leaving me no remedy!16

Who’s that crying out?

NYSA

13. Nysa: from the site of the mythical eastern cave (alternatively construed to be in Thrace, Anatolia, Arabia, or India) where Bacchus reputedly was born. 14. Anga: from the ancient kingdom in India. 15. The first of many proverbs. Most of the ones that follow are self-explanatory. 16. Panchaia’s speech, and the lines that follow, are built around a series of nonsensical rhymes— gamba (“leg”), camba (“wound”), and zamba (‘bandy-legged”). English rhymes, rather than direct translations, convey the spirit of Enríquez’s original here.

38 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN

Take it back, Panchaia.

Take what back?

SHEBA

PANCHAIA

SHEBA The defamatory and fallacious testimony you gave against my goodness, my gracious, my Aglaea. PANCHAIA Let go of me, traitor. You’re the one who’s fallacious, voracious, bodacious, capacious, and sagacious! SHEBA I’m sagacious? That’s the biggest lie of all. Nowhere do I sag! PANCHAIA Let go of me, traitor! If you could only see where your face is, you’d wish you were blind like me! NYSA Calm down. It’s midnight. Such hate and rancor among loyal friends? Don’t you know the only thing that should come between pirates is a jug of wine? SHEBA Señor Nysa, homeland of our patron Saint Bacchus. Panchaia says my lady Aglaea gave him her vow of marriage when she’s already given it to me. I know she’d never give it to anyone else because diligence means doing things on time, and diligence is the mother of good fortune. See for yourself if I’m right to come back for my honor, and my bride’s. As the saying goes: “The man who doesn’t honor his woman, dishonors himself.” NYSA What do you say to this, Señor Panchaia? PANCHAIA Out of long stories come tall tales. He’s lying blindly. My bride couldn’t and wouldn’t give such a vow. Her eyes aren’t coated with the crust of love. I know her

Four Interludes 39 well, and no eyes could or would be more tied to her than these two knots here, which are to me mere ornaments, like the eyes on the peacock’s tail.17 NYSA Tsk, tsk, tsk, Señor Panchaia, Señor Sheba! Seems like I’m rapping at the false windows of your estates! You know who you remind me of? The geese who went to greet the wolf! I commend you to Pluto, Tisiphone, Alecto, and Megaera!18 As for my heart’s glory and repose, the girl I carried on my very back—the back I unfurled by removing this rod from my chest—that girl gave me her word no other man would be her groom. You dare lay eyes upon her house? You dare take her as your illegitimate bride? May you drink Lethe’s waters and forget the love of my moldy Aglaea! May three-headed Cerberus deliver you to Charon!19 May Charon ferry you across the Stygian lagoon, the burning Phlegethon, and the sluggish, black Cocytus, and deliver you to Demorgon!20 May Demorgon hand you over to Minos, Aeacus, and Rhadamanthus!21 May Minos, Aeacus, and Rhadamanthus sentence you to Ixion’s wheel, Sisyphus’s boulder, Tantalus’s apple tree and pool, the Danaids’ water jugs, and the bitter vulture of the unbecoming Tityos!22 And once the sentence is handed down, I’ll immediately go down there myself to personally inflict these pains on you. Then I’ll return to my lady Aglaea, to consummate our marriage. ANGA Señor Nysa, believe me, she’s not the nymph for that marriage, just as honey’s not made for the mouth of a donkey. 17. An allusion to the story of the hundred-eyed giant Argus, which as Panchaia later recounts is connected to the loss of his own eyes. 18. Here starts a long section parodying culto literary fashion of the day, which took mythological references to an extreme; the myriad allusions underscore the suitors’ hyperbolic assertions. The parody is playfully self-referential, as Enríquez subscribes to this fashion in the rest of the Tragicomedy. Pluto (Hades) was king of the underworld. Tisiphone, Alecto, and Megaera were the Three Furies or “Erinyes,” whose duty was to avenge the dead. 19. Lethe: The underworld river of forgetfulness. Cerberus: the dog, usually depicted as three-headed, who guarded the underworld. Charon: the ferryman who transported the newly dead into Hades. The three subsequently named places are bodies of water in Hades. 20. Demorgon: Perhaps an error in the original for “Demogorgon,” a demon associated with the underworld but not a figure in Greek mythology (although the Gorgons—among them Medusa, referred to later—certainly were). 21. Minos, Aeacus, and Rhadamanthus: judges of Hades. 22. Condemned souls who suffered legendary tortures in Hades. Ixion was chained to a burning, spinning wheel. Sisyphus was condemned to eternally push a boulder up a mountain. Tantalus was “tantalized” by an apple tree (whose branches were always above his reach) and a pool (whose waters were always below his reach). The Danaids carried water to endlessly fill a leaking jug. Tityos, like Prometheus, was tortured by vultures who pecked at his liver.

40 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN SHEBA Señores Panchaia, Nysa, and Anga challenge me in matters of honor because you obviously know little of my outrageous deeds. If only any of you had seen me in Asian Scythia, battling the Arimaspis’ raging father, where I sought victory without unfair advantage.23 When I saw he had but one eye in his forehead—albeit, it was as big as a shield—I took this hook, which I was using to grasp his shoulder blades, and plucked out my right eye, which was better of my two. Then I furiously assailed the giant, who, astonished by my incendiary passion, fled into his cave like a wary cat. ANGA Señor Sheba, Señor Panchaia, Señor Nysa, also known as Señor One-Eye, Señor Blind-Man, Señor Hunchback, I hope you’re not daring to boast in the face of Anga the Angry Cripple, for a donkey can bear a load but not an overload. SHEBA Señor Anga certainly appears to be loaded. No wonder he’s lurching like an ass.24 ANGA Quiet! No flies enter a closed mouth! Since you’re a bunch of unbalanced donkeys, let me be your crazed muleteer. Let me recount but one little feat of my arms so you’ll understand how my dashing deeds made Pluto’s beard and Vulcan’s Cyclopean hammer tremble.25 It is commonly thought that, during Pirithous’ wedding to Hippodamia, after the half-men half-horses abducted the bride and her maidens by the hair, it was Peleus, Hercules, and Theseus who sallied forth to meet them and took their lives.26 So goes the rumor, which tends to dress up truth in a patchwork of lies. And since not everything the carpenter cuts is on the level, let it be known this triumph belongs not to that beggar and his consorts but to me. ’Twas I who

23. Scythia: ancient region to the north of the Black Sea, stretching into the Ural Mountains. Arimaspi: mythical one-eyed inhabitants of Scythia (González and Doménech, “Entreactos,” 192). 24. The Spanish features untranslatable word play on Anga’s name, based around angarias, meaning carrying something on one’s back; liberties have been taken with the translation here. 25. Vulcan: lame son of Jupiter (Zeus) and Juno (Hera), who worked at the forge with his famous hammer and his one-eyed assistants. 26. Pirithous accompanied Theseus in his expedition against the Amazons. At his wedding to Hippodamia, intoxicated centaurs attempted to abduct the bride and her bridesmaids. The centaurs were defeated by Pirithous and Theseus (González and Doménech, “Entreactos,” 193). Anga seems to be exaggerating by inserting the heroes Hercules and Peleus into this story, consistent with his purpose of giving absurdly heroic origins to his own defects.

Four Interludes 41 sent those centaurs to bathe in Acheron!27 Note my poetic turn of phrase. Think not I was some thumb-sucking fool like they were. Lend me your ears and you’ll hear the greatest feat e’er done by mortal. Not wanting the unfair advantage of my human legs, I drew my sword and sliced off both my legs at the shins, leaving my valiant body propped up on its knees, debilitated, and in tremendous pain. And with the audacity of an Iberian horseman, I held them to the ground, addressing them thusly: Insolent half-men, you’ve dared with your haunches to start a quarrel with the intrepid Anga, who, to dispatch you to death without undue disparity, seeing you lacked human legs, cut off his own, refusing even to take horses’ legs like yours, lest he look like a horse’s ass: His fame rises higher, so much is certain: Now come to me, you beasts of burden.28 Oh, beautiful ladies of Arabia! Oh, princesses Belidiana and Clarinda!29 If only I had you here before me, in your windows and balconies, accompanied by my Most Moldy One, and her sisters Thalia and Euphrosyne, like three poppyflowers, frolicking in the golden barley! If only they, if only she could have seen how her beloved Anga drove the entire equine herd to anguish! After reciting an epigram brimming with elegies and metaphors, which stated literally and figuratively who I was and who they were, I assailed them, I parried at them, with my scythe of death. And they who thought themselves half-horse, half-man were cut down to half-rent-mule, half-pygmy. And so I claimed my prize: Three months I lavished with my fecund bride Who in Moscovy’s palace lay by my side.30 PANCHAIA I’m against recounting my own triumphs and victories because, as they say, the cat that’s mewing doesn’t do much hunting. I only want to stake my claim, for nothing’s more thrilling than the perils of love. We’re dealing with the claim of a lady who will favor the most gallant lover, not the most gallant warrior. You’ve all heard of beautiful, fair Medusa31 and her two sisters. I regret that the need to establish the justice of my cause obliges me to boast of things long forgotten. 27. Ancient river separating Hades from the world of the living; synecdoche for Hades. In reality, it is a river located in northwest Greece, flowing into the Ionian Sea. 28. Obscure allusion or poetic invocation (along with the one that follows). Consistent with the interlude’s satirical, hyper-literary tone. 29. Characters from the Tragicomedy. 30. Despite the obscurity and satirical nature of this verse, “Moscovy’s palace” could be a reference to the Kremlin complex, which had been extensively rebuilt in the sixteenth century. The magnificent St. Basil’s Cathedral, still the symbol of Moscow today, was consecrated in 1561 and thus would have been a relatively new structure in Enríquez’s lifetime. 31. One of the three Gorgons. Her gaze was said to turn men to stone.

42 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN

We’ve heard of her.

SHEBA

PANCHAIA Have you heard the saying, “Where one goat goes, there go the others”?

Yes, but what’s the point?

ANGA

PANCHAIA Oh, how slow you all are, not to have figured it out! Then know that both her sisters looked at me with a single caressing eye, which in turn were caressed by mine. One of them gave me a wink, then the other, each wanting to be the first goat to go off with me. I expressed my gratitude but told them I would respond to their affections only after they first introduced me to their sister, Medusa. That satisfied them. They told her about me, and she came around to what I wanted. The only thing standing in our way was the obvious danger to my life, for they said I’d be turned to stone once I laid eyes on Medusa. So I raised my hand to my blue eyes, which had caressed all three—the first two directly and the third by word of mouth. And plucking the eyes from my face, I hurled them at a nearby peacock, hitting my target perfectly, on the tail. There they stuck forever, next to Argus’s eyes, shining as the two brightest orbs in a starry sky.32 Then, free from all danger, I went in to see them, to celebrate matrimonius triplicatus,33 and thus became a trickster Cupid, the dog that eats from every plate. (Enter blind Orpheus and one-eyed Amphion,34 with musical instruments, scars like Sheba and Panchaia, and both legs on crutches. They sing.) ORPHEUS AND AMPHION Big things never cost a little, We confess, lovely Aglaea, You are much, we are not many, We are lads, you are a lady, That is to say, a lot of lady, A lady with a lot of body. Of the three Most Moldy Graces, You are graced as the Most Moldy, 32. The hundred-eyed giant whose eyes, after his death, were put into the peacock’s tail by Juno. 33. The Spanish vacas links matrimonios with an obscure, poetic term, tergéminos; a literal translation might be “triplicated matrimonies.” In the translation, mock Latin is employed to convey the author’s linguistic playfulness. 34. Orpheus and Amphion: musicians of ancient Greek myth.

Four Interludes 43 Your Orpheus and Amphion Don’t deserve to taste your love Because our valor is so little And your face so graced with bugs. From among your loving poets, Choose who best can sing to you. With nothing but four kegs of wine We’ll toast a thousand times to you.35 SHEBA Have you ever seen anything so typically gallant? Why do these simpletons take so long to show up, when we’ve been standing guard over Our Most Moldy One eleven-twelfths of the night? AMPHION 36 Señor Sheba, Señor Panchaia, Señor Nysa, Señor Anga, haven’t you heard it said that staying up all night doesn’t make the sun rise any earlier? That it’s better to trust in God than stay up all night? PANCHAIA Come over here, sir poets, with all your pompous poesy. You come after all this time to woo our Most Moldy One with your kegs of music? Am I supposed to think we’ll sell her to you by the pint or barrel? NYSA Poets Orpheus and Amphion, clear the field and quit this territory or you’ll come to great grief. ANGA Take it slow, sir poets, one step at a time—that’s how the old lady spins her yarn. ORPHEUS Hear, hear, look who stands before us in flesh-and-blood: Sheba the one-eyed, Panchaia the blind. Nysa the hunchback, and Anga the cripple. For the life of us all, one step at a time … be gone! Even the King himself can’t always get everything he wants. A new deck of cards doesn’t settle an old debt. 35. With this song, and the ones that follow in subsequent interludes, it has been necessary to take some liberties with literal meaning to preserve the verse length, rhyme pattern, and spirit of the original. 36. The Spanish edition ascribes this line to Anga, yet it can sensibly be spoken only by Orpheus or Amphion. It is given to Amphion here.

44 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN (Enter Slouching Bacchus,37 a ridiculous old man, father to Aglaea, Euphrosyne, and Thalia, the Three Moldy Graces.) BACCHUS By the three heads of Cerberus, you six councilors of Arabia, I’m poised to do an Arabian deed—a deed dreamed of in all three Arabias: Arabia Felix, Arabia Deserta, and Arabia Petrea.38 Is it possible I’ve found the patience to hold back the fury inflaming my heart after hearing all this clattering at my doorstep from these pretenders to my daughter Aglayca,39 the light of my bloodshot eyes? Couldn’t you have found the decency not to disturb my soporific sleep? All six of you seem incited by furies to desire my beloved, celestial Aglayca, and none of you want to set eyes on either of her two little sisters, Thalica and Euphrysonica. Though younger than she, they’re veritable triplets—their mother gave birth to all three with such grace that they’ve been called the Three Moldy Graces ever since. And these names have stuck to their behinds, causing no little envy and affront to Venus’ own Graces, who dare not show their faces in my daughters’ presence. We could draw lots among the six of you to see which three fortunate ones end up with them, and which three unfortunate ones will go pick fleas out of other dogs’ butts. While it’s true that three girls have a killer eye like the one in Aglayca’s socket, it’s also true that in other graces the other two are not inferior to her, as was the case with Medusa’s sisters. But, truth be told, they don’t think so little of themselves to hand themselves over through a drawing of lots. Rather, it should be decided by strength and force. They are primping for a tournament tonight, and they will give themselves to the men who defeat the other three competitors. This is the best way, for this is the way you’ll win them over. SHEBA Our common father-in-law has categorically spoken. BACCHUS What do you mean, “common?” Am I a commoner? Watch what you’re saying, Sheba, my son, or you’ll end up blind in both eyes. Do you want to be an in-law or an outlaw?40 What a brazen statement in the name of a would-be son-in-law!

37. The designation of Bacchus here as an old man called Poltrón—“Slumping,” “Slouching,” or “Lazy”—suggests a carnivalesque inversion and picaresque incarnation of the normally youthful, vibrant god. 38. Geographical divisions of classical Arabia. 39. Affectionate diminutive for the Spanish “Aglaya.” Similar diminutives for the sisters follow. 40. The Spanish puns on ayer no (“yesterday, no”) and yerno (“son-in-law”).

Four Interludes 45 SHEBA Slouching Bacchus, my father, I didn’t mean commoner but common father-inlaw, meaning the commonality of being father-in-law to three and six, as well as communal father-in-law to six sons-in-law and father to three such communicable daughters. BACCHUS All right. If all six of you agree to the competition, suit up in your armor for the tournament. I’ll speak to my girls and beg them to attend. SHEBA Speaking for myself, I’d like to say, I’ll gladly fight for any of the three. ANGA I don’t want to insult my lady Aglaea, so, if she approves, I accept the slouching sentence of this raucous caucus of Bacchus. NYSA We are unanimous in will and judgment. ALL We conclude definitively, novatione cessante.41 BACCHUS Then let’s go. These little girls of twice thirty—excuse me, each of them twentyfive—have been hungry for three weeks, with nothing to grind in their mills. As the two proverbs go: “Don’t pass up a chance to take her home with you,” and “When you’re given a cow, milk it.” ORPHEUS These vacas, Bacchus, are your daughters. And when we go to milk them, these moldy graces will run us like bulls.42 BACCHUS Oh, what a marvelous conceit! And since it was spoken by a poet, it should be versified! 41. Latin legal term, invoked to reserve the right to call further witnesses in a case should new information present itself. 42. The Spanish involves some untranslatable word play invoking a bullfight, which carries through to the concluding couplet. Some liberties have been taken to preserve the wit.

46 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN AMPHION And no less worthy for being so. Time to celebrate! Lift your voices and repeat after me: Three graceful cows are Bacchus’s daughters, And we’re the bulls they’ll lead to slaughter. (They exit, bringing the first interlude to an end.)

Second Interlude to Part One43 (Enter, at a balcony, the one-eyed Aglaea, and the blind Thalia and Euphrosyne, each with a crutch and in tattered clothes; and, on the stage itself, Slouching Bacchus, a ridiculous old man.) BACCHUS Dearest daughters, my Moldy Graces, take your places on this balcony, which, poor as it may be, cedes nothing to your Princess Belidiana’s44 when it comes to purity and chastity. But I trust in the gods that the time has finally come for you to break the mold by shaking off the mold that covers you. AGLAEA Do our six pretenders know they first have to tilt for us, and then wrestle for us, and finally compete poetically for us?45 BACCHUS Yes, daughters. They know you, Aglayca, wish to marry the most tilted one; and you, Euphrosinica, the most athletic one; and you, Thalica, the most poetic one. AGLAEA The most tilted one, father? You mean the one who tilts best in a tournament.46 BACCHUS They’re all tilted, daughter. But if you want a tournament, what’s wrong with a turner who could turn you a peg leg, and two more for your sisters?

43. This interlude would have been performed between Acts Three and Four of The Tragicomedy of the Sheban Gardens and Fields, Part One. 44. Character in the Tragicomedy. 45. Traditional components of Renaissance chivalric courtly competition. Poetic justas (most literally, “jousts”) were common in seventeenth-century Spain; writers competed by glossing (that is, amplifying upon) a given verse, as the suitors do in this interlude. 46. The Baroque word play in the Spanish, here and in the passages that follow, stems from the terms tornear (“to compete in a tournament”), tornear una pierna (“to make a wooden leg”) and tornero (“hatchkeep” at a convent), leading into another misunderstanding around the words hayana and jayana (“peg-legged woman” and “giant”) (González and Doménech, “Entreactos,” 202–3). This has necessitated analogous English solutions.

47

48 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN AGLAEA A pig leg? Absolutely not. I’d rather be a pygmy. EUPHROSYNE An athlete for me, father? All I want is a good wrestler. Are you sending me to hell? Am I to stand at Lethe’s waters? BACCHUS Shut up, silly. Wrestlers are called athletes because their wrath leads them to do great things.47 THALIA Father, I’d rather ride a donkey than get thrown from a horse. I prefer a poetic jackass to some would-be Pegasus who would fly me up to the clouds, where we’d run into the stables of the Sun’s horses, who’d kick the poetry right out of us. Much less do I want some tilter or wrestler. Give me a pleasant donkey of a poet who keeps his feet on the ground and off my head. BACCHUS Quiet, daughters. Here come the tilters, wrestlers, and poetizers. (Enter the six men from the First Interlude ridiculously armed, with cork shields, wooden swords, and spears made of green reeds. Three, on one side, have their seconds; three, on the other side, have theirs. They do their gallantries limping and stumbling.) BACCHUS Oh, how delightfully they’ve made their respective entrances! Who could ask for more in the whole wide world! My lucky daughters, born to such a destiny! How true the saying: “For every smart monkey, you can find a dumb donkey.”48 AGLAEA How lucky they are, father, born to such a lofty enterprise! Those loved by God, are made to thrive by God.

47. Untranslatable word play. The Spanish revolves around Euphrosyne’s confusion between atleta (“athlete”) and Alecto (one of the three Furies, referred to in Part One). Bacchus responds with a correspondence between atleta and aleando (“fluttering”). Again, different solutions are necessary in English. 48. The first of many proverbs in this interlude. Most of them are self-evident.

Four Interludes 49 BACCHUS And though God may not exactly love you, he has certainly made you thrive. [ONE SET OF] SECONDS Valorous gentlemen, the field has been evenly divided. The time has come, intrepid ones, to show your valorous valor. [OTHER SET OF] SECONDS The time has come, valorous ones, to show the spirit of valorous roosters and prove there’s no chicken among you. (They run at each other with their reeds, breaking them. Then they draw their swords. After five blows, they all fall to the ground. The seconds pick them up.) BACCHUS You have all tilted valorously, my sons. Now Aglayca shall judge who wins the prize, for it’s only fair that the one with the toothache gets her tooth pulled. AGLAEA Father, there’s another saying: why offer a choice to one who’s made up her mind? BACCHUS Speak your will, daughter, for better a shameful face than a blemished heart. AGLAEA Señores, you’ve all shown yourselves to be valorous gentlemen. All six of you have proved worthy of this your mare over whom you have so valiantly contended. I want you all in equal measure: it’s not right that any of you champions leave here insulted. I grant all six of you the right to be mine so none of you may have any querulous quarrel. BACCHUS Ah, daughter! Do you want to be a bigamist? You’re a big enough mare to marry two or three times? AGLAEA No, father, this mare would like to marry six times.49

49. The Spanish plays upon bígama (“bigamist”) and gama (“doe”), to which analogous solutions have been applied.

50 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN BACCHUS No, daughter, it’s not right for you to introduce female bigamy into the world. You’d be worse than Queen Semiramis,50 who had many men but few husbands. THALIA No, sister, we won’t allow it either—unless you agree that all of them can marry all of us. AGLAEA Didn’t you say, sister, you didn’t like tilters or wrestlers? THALIA Haven’t you heard it said, the mouth that says no, means yes? EUPHROSYNE A cursed year on you, sister Aglaea! If you want all six of them, you’ll make us widows before we’re even married, and people would say about us: “The prettiest girls That ever I saw Are widows today, To be married no more. . Leave us to weep where The sea meets the shore.”51 A SECOND It’s certainly good to see that, after these six gentlemen have pulverized each other with reeds and sticks, these nymphs want to stick it to them again, knocking around all six of them like balls full of air, especially since these girls have been knocked around themselves.52 Yet each of them, insolidum,53 would be mistress over them all. Such confusion would confound all Babylon!

50. Queen of ancient Babylon, reputed to have had many lovers. 51. A variation on a famous poem—“La más bella niña” (1580)—by Luis de Góngora (1561–1627), whose highbrow literary style both informs this interlude and is parodied by it (González and Doménech, “Entreactos,” 206). 52. The Spanish plays on palas (“sticks”) and Pallas Minerva (Athena, virgin goddess of wisdom). Liberties have been taken to maintain the aspersions cast on the sisters’ virginity. 53. Latin: “resolutely” (González and Doménech, “Entreactos,” 206).

Four Interludes 51 BACCHUS Señores, my sons, I think it’s difficult for a girl to choose one man from among six half men—all of whom she likes—with so little deliberation. Let the wrestling match take place while she weighs the matter in the courtroom of her memory, her reason, and her will, which is the fitting place for an important ruling like this one. PANCHAIA Well said. An unheard of matter like this should be decided by a holy Papal court—as holy as my lady Aglaea’s hood, scarf, and skirt. ORPHEUS Which she wears when she flirts in the dirt.

Soup, salad, and dessert.54

Go ahead and wrestle!

Wrestle!

Wrestle!

AMPHION

SHEBA

NYSA

ALL

[They wrestle, knocking each other down.] BACCHUS Three against three, the same as the tournament, and done in two elegant, genteel flourishes. You have done marvelously. All six of you have unanimously in accordance knocked each other to the ground and kissed the glorious sand. Euphrosyne, my daughter, choose the man whom you find to be the most elegant wrestler. EUPHROSYNE Father, they’ve all wrestled valiantly in the same arena. I don’t find one any better than the others. I stand by what was said before: I want all six. 54. The Spanish in the preceding also revolves around words joined nonsensically by rhyme, including saya (“outer skirt”), playa (“beach”), gandaya (“sloth”), and raya (“ray”).

52 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN BACCHUS Not that, my daughter, or you’d be a polygamist multi-kissed bride.55 AGLAEA A cursed year on you, Euphrosyne! You also want to be bridled six times? You won’t see yourself in those six mirrors. THALIA Cursed days and night on you! You, Euphrosyne, want sextuple husbands? The sky has but one Gemini. Bring on my literary competition! I want first choice of whichever poet or poets I like best. Amplify upon this song: “Of the lovely sisters three, One has hurt me to the core: The youngest one’s whom I adore.”56 PANCHAIA

Here goes the amplification: Of the Three Most Moldy Graces I am partial to the critter Who bites and kicks the most of all: Among the threesome none is fitter Than the runt of the whole litter. Yes, she has scratched me to the core: The youngest one’s whom I adore.

SHEBA Insipid. Now this is sublime: Of the Three Most Moping Graces Whose moldiness redounds with muck, I choose the chick of the whole henhouse, And though this fowl can foully cluck, She winks an eye that brings me luck. It is an eye that burns my core: The youngest one’s whom I adore.

Bad. How about this one:

ANGA

55. In the Spanish, more play on gamos and gamas (“bucks” and “does”). 56. The source of this lyric is unknown. In the glosas or amplifications that follow, liberties have been taken to preserve the rhyme scheme, verse structure, and spirit of the originals.

Four Interludes 53 Aglaea, Thalia, Euphrosyne Are killing me with their abuses: I’m slowly roasting on their spit And on their fire dripping juices. Yes, in their flame my fat reduces, But one’s reduced me to my core: The youngest one’s whom I adore. NYSA Even worse. Now this is the one: Aglaea, Thalia, Euphrosyne, The Moldy Graces in their greases, Have me swimming in their stew. I’m their capon, chopped to pieces. Simmering, my love releases, But one is boiling in my core: The youngest one’s whom I adore. ORPHEUS Dreadful. Listen to mine, which is like a potion: Though Aglaea smells most strongly And Euphrosyne is pungent, There is no ointment quite like Thalia: Her oily lotions make me urgent. Yes, I would gladly be the unguent Rubbed into her heart’s true core: The youngest one’s whom I adore. AMPHION Enough, friend, you’re like an apothecary. This one will finish off this competition and win the prize: You graces graced with must and mold, Let me strip you of your rust, Let your pots receive my ladle, Let it stir them, let it thrust. I’ll steer your boats through gale and gust, But for one alone I stroke my oar: The youngest one’s whom I adore. Nothing more could be desired of Mount Helicon57 itself. 57. The Greek mountain sacred to the Muses.

54 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN BACCHUS Yes, there is something more to be desired. The judgment of the jaundiced poetess. THALIA Father, may the gods in heaven prevent me from offending any one of these divine poets. Slouching Bacchus, my father, each has his own unique vintage, and I want them all. BACCHUS Well, may the gods in heaven and hell prevent me from insulting such Bacchanalian poets. I don’t want to reject any of them. You all are worthy, and that’s ratified and codified. AGLAEA A cursed year and cursed months, Thalia! You get six husbands and we’re left to starve? EUPHROSYNE Cursed years, cursed months, cursed weeks, cursed days, cursed nights, cursed mornings, cursed hours, cursed quarter-hours, cursed minutes, cursed seconds, cursed instants! ORPHEUS Lady Graces, more than civil and more than moldy,58 don’t subject us to this arrhythmic tic of time.59 If you start dividing us into atoms, you’ll end up taking our lives. Speaking for myself, as husband and conjugal spouse to all three of you women, and as blood-relative and partner to all five of you men, and as one sixth of us all, I wish, persist, and insist that we unanimously in accordance agree to marry all three. And the same goes for all three ladies. All for one and one for all! And every one for themselves, and everyone insolidum, brides and wives and matrons and mothers of all six families! Let’s renounce division and come together to fruitfully multiply! 58. The Spanish pluscuamciviles (“more than civil”) has its origins in the Etymologies of Isidore of Seville (ca. 560–636), which refers to “more than civil war” (plus quam civile bellum). Isidore, the Archbishop of Seville for more than thirty years, was canonized in 1598, just before Enríquez began working on the Tragicomedy. In Book XVIII of the Etymologies, Isidore states that there are “four kinds of war: just, unjust, civil, and more than civil. … A ‘more than civil’ war is where not only fellowcitizens, but also kinfolk fight.” See The Etymologies of Isidore of Seville, ed. Stephen A. Barney et al. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 359. 59. In Spanish, an apparent neologism here, arrosméticas, playing on aritméticas (“arithmetics”) (González and Doménech, “Entreactos,” 211). Enríquez is particularly exuberant and playful in this passage, and the translation strives to maintain this tone.

Four Interludes 55 And as I plead my case, I ask for a proper verdict: don’t dismiss my suit until the matter is properly adjudicated. And in this way I can love my friends here, and be good to those who are good to me, and may they stop doing me harm. BACCHUS Oh, gran bontá di cavallieri antique!60 Oh, the compliance and obsequiousness of good friends who choose sodalis61 over conquest. Kindness and sweetness conquer best. PANCHAIA I accept the conditions of all three ladies. THALIA And I accept the conditions of all six men, with the permission of my lord, my father. BACCHUS For this moldy grace alone, my daughter, my shriveled grape, you’d be worthy of being polygamized by these six polygamists. As a father, I grant you, and all of them, the right to do as you wish. AGLAEA Cursed years, if I’m not granted the same right! EUPHROSYNE And if I don’t get polygamized by all six as well! BACCHUS Well, sweet little sillies, how I can avoid insulting any of you? All of you, with my blessings and the gods’, take each other’s hands. Take hands! How easily you gulp down eighteen bigamies! Three times six, eighteen: quite a few. Wait. First you must understand the glorious fortune you all have in marrying your equals, which is the happiest sort of marriage. A man’s valor is found in both his body and soul. The soul should order, and the body, obey. The former we have in common with the gods, and the latter with the beasts. It’s stupidity and madness to prefer the beauty and blessings of the body to the beauty and blessings of the soul. Oh, sons and daughters, how prudent you’ve been to prefer the valor of the soul to the beauty and delicacies of the body, and to seek only the modest support of minimal daily 60. “Oh! goodly truth in cavaliers of old!” Ludovico Ariosto, Orlando Furioso, canto I, stanza 22. 61. Latin: comrades, companions (González and Doménech, “Entreactos,” 212).

56 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN sustenance, clothing, and tegumentum62 these spouses shall provide. Daughters, with nothing but your own discretion, you’ve earned the valor of these gentlemen beggars’ generous hearts. And you, oh worthy slouching sons-in-law! Through your wisdom, you’ve earned the inner beauty found inside the hearts of these meek little doves. Beloved children, go celebrate your weddings. Give each other your hands and hearts, and make me grandfather to eighteen grandchildren via legal matrimony, with my blessing and the blessing of Juno, Venus, and Hymen.63

Let them be joined as one.

SECONDS

OTHER SET OF SECONDS Let them be joined as one. ORPHEUS Let our weddings be in triple, Father Bacchus, we wish no trouble, And thus the vows shall be sextuple So eighteen grandsons will beset you And never one shall e’er forget you. Each of them shall claim three mothers And esteem six valorous fathers. Great grandchildren: over a hundred, Whose children then shall be six hundred All from six godfathers, who are like brothers. AMPHION Father Bacchus, we are eager, And in your homage we concur, You transform wine to vinegar, You take what’s lean and make it meager, You work wonders with your rigor, And so we ask for this great feat: Your daughters are like salted meat, And we would like to celebrate A feast with them in eighteen ways, In the kitchen or ’tween the sheets. 62. In the original, the word is tegumento, an obscure botanical term related to the Latin tegumentum, “covering” (González and Doménech, “Entreactos,” 213). The Latin is used here, as it conveys Bacchus’s pomposity. Of course, this pomposity merely gilds the suitors’ and sisters’ utter lechery. The intimation also may be sexual insofar as anatomists refer to the “hymeneal tegmentum.” 63. Goddesses, respectively, of the home, love, and marriage.

Four Interludes 57 PANCHAIA Father Bacchus, you are the source, And from your grapes this grace has dripped Through all of them unto us six. Hand them over without remorse And thus one day sixfold divorce Shall ensue from these six portions, And disputes of great proportions. The law itself, may it not unnerve you, One fine day will cruelly serve you With a writ for eighteen abortions. SHEBA Great vinegar maker, help us please, Though you’re not Bacchus, god of wine, Ancient Bacchus, whose fame did shine As father-in-law to Hercules, But slouching Bacchus: we’re on our knees. All six of us desire your graces, All six long for their moldy faces. Each of them’s a meaty daughter; Each of them, quite fit to slaughter: We’ll butcher them with our embraces. ANGA I don’t want to bring ill-humor Or your vinegar to taste strange Or Aglaea to get the mange Or Thalia to grow a tumor Or Euphrosyne to be rumored To suffer from an open sore. I only want you to be pure, And the same goes for each daughter, So give us lots of wine, not water: May our drinking long endure!

For vinegar, I have no urge Nor acids, salves, or healing potions, Putrid balms or rancid lotions Or explosive enematic purge,

NYSA

58 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN For we are truly on the verge Of wedding ones whose wine has spoiled. Soon these girls will be well-oiled. May the vinegar from each bladder On the wedding bed not splatter— Yes, may its purity not be soiled! BACCHUS Marvelous poets, I can’t help but imitate you, even if it’s on my own behalf: With artifice that’s soaked in brine, I’ve settled this with fine precision, And rendered a superb collision So as to make six poets mine. Now is the time to drink our wine, Even if it tastes like sin, And may the seconds all join in! With song and dance and sides of bacon, Let the marriage vows be taken! Let the vinegar roll down your chin! SECONDS (singing) May the brides and grooms enjoy each other greatly. May the six lovely beaux enjoy their three Graces. ALL (singing) May the brides and grooms enjoy each other greatly. May the six lovely beaux enjoy their three Graces! SECONDS (singing) One Grace for two beaux, two beaux for each Grace. May each bride be well bridled, each mare find her mates. ALL (singing) One Grace for two beaux, two beaux for each Grace. May each bride be well bridled, each mare find her mates. May the brides and grooms enjoy each other greatly. May the six lovely beaux enjoy their three Graces.

First Interlude to Part Two64 (Tables are brought out with glasses, tankards, flasks, cooling vessels, bread, and food; three chairs are placed at the head of the table, with benches along each side. Enter the god Bacchus and his tutor Silenus,65 with drunkards’ masks, crowned with vine leaves with bunches of grapes; the god Apollo with his shepherd’s hairstyle and furs; Pan and Guasorapo66 with goat horns and legs; Vertumnus, god of gardens;67 Slouching Cupid,68 a man with a mask and a large moustache, a bow made of ox leather and arrows made of reeds; King Midas,69 with mask, crown, and costume all in gold; Daphne, Syrinx, and Pomona,70 with ugly, ridiculous little masks. Apollo and Pan play their musical instruments and sing, and the others repeat while dancing.71) APOLLO AND PAN We welcome you to Midas’s banquet. Drink till you drop in honor of Bacchus. ALL (singing) We welcome you to Midas’s banquet. 64. This interlude would have been performed between Acts Two and Three of The Tragicomedy of the Sheban Gardens and Fields, Part Two. The two interludes to Part Two follow the 1627 edition of the play, as edited by Louis C. Pérez; it varies significantly from the 1624 edition, which has a dedication by the author to her aunt, Leonor Correa de Guzmán, dated October 9, 1619. 65. Wine-loving satyr. Legendarily, the oldest, wisest, and most drunken of Bacchus’ pot-bellied silenoi entourage. His release from captivity in Book XI of Ovid’s Metamorphoses prompts Midas to host the bacchanal comically dramatized here. 66. Obscure mythological figure, “god of hunters”; he appears in Part Two of the Tragicomedy, as do Apollo, Pan, Vertumnus, and Cupid. The name is close to gusarapo, a type of water bug, as comically referenced later. 67. Roman god of gardens, seasons, and fruits. In Book XIV of the Metamorphoses, he disguises himself as a crone and seduces chaste Pomona. 68. Cupido Poltrón. See note 37. In effect, Enríquez transforms the god of love into a dirty old man. 69. Legendary king of Phrygia, given the gift of the golden touch by Bacchus, who then releases him from this “gift” by having him bathe in the river Pactolus. Later, Apollo punishes Midas with a pair of donkey ears for judging Pan the better of the two musicians. All of this is found in Book XI of the Metamorphoses. 70. Daphne and Syrinx: in mythology, Greek nymphs chased by Apollo and Pan, respectively, in Book I of the Metamorphoses. Pomona: Roman nymph of gardens, seduced by Vertumnus in Book XIV. 71. The Spanish states they are in sarao, a term difficult to translate but indicating a festive, courtly dance or “ball.”

59

60 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN Drink till you drop in honor of Bacchus. APOLLO AND PAN (singing) Silenus is honored by Midas, our host. Drink, one and all, until you’re all soaked. ALL (dancing) Silenus is honored by Midas, our host. Drink, one and all, until you’re all soaked. APOLLO AND PAN (singing) At Midas’s banquet is sober Timolus.72 Since everyone’s drunk, he’s here to judge us. We welcome you to Midas’s banquet. Drink till you drop in honor of Bacchus. (As Apollo sings the following, the others continue their dance.) APOLLO (singing alone)

In Arabia there lives a king of Phrygia, known as Midas, and though a miser, he throws a banquet ten days long, to honor Bacchus. Here you’ll find the wine god’s tutor, the good old man known as Silenus. The grapes and vines upon his brow are symbols of his special privilege. Here you’ll also find Vertumnus, Pan himself, and Guasorapo, Daphne, Syrinx, and Pomona, wise Timolus, and Apollo. Also here is Slouching Cupid with leather bow to catch his sport and his arrows made of reeds dyed bright red with blood of fawns.

72. Mythological character best known for judging Apollo the winner in his musical contest with Pan in Book XI of the Metamorphoses. Also the presiding deity of the Lydian mountain of the same name.

Four Interludes 61 Nine days have passed, and today this drinking bout’s about to end. Prizes will be given out to the lucky ones who win. The heartiest drinking man will gain a wine skin, pitcher, and a tankard, and the nymph most drenched in wine, will win four wine flasks and a keg. Since he’s most soused in the head, Bacchus himself shall be our judge— he can attest with greatest skill who is most sotted in the skull. Bacchus himself will then compete in a match with Slouching Cupid to see who is the stronger god, and whose arrows are the cruelest. Apollo and that half-goat, Pan, in a third and final challenge, will see who has the sweetest song in finely pitched musical battle. Our arbiter shall be Timolus in the last two of these contests— he has been sober these nine days and so is sure to be the sharpest. (As Pan sings, the others obey his directions.) PAN (singing alone) The banquet table welcomes you: take your proper places please, friends. At the head presides lord Bacchus, who of course is king of drinkers. To one side, Timolus. The other, Midas: they will soon pro tabernali73 be the judges our contest. At one side of table Daphne, Syrinx, and Pomona are seated. Along the left sit Vertumnus, Slouching Cupid, and Guasorapo. 73. Latin: “in favor of the taverns.”

62 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN Silenus claims the other head since he shall be the one to toast us, though doing so may duly test him since in the head he is most toasted, and as you know, he can get testy. As for Apollo and myself, we’ll do our best to keep on singing: may our music and our verse be the life of this fine party. Now we ask for Bacchus’s blessing to give our contest a glorious beginning. SILENUS (singing)

Bless us all, and prepare for the final fearsome battles: we’ll know the winners only when the dust of competition settles. Follow my lead, and we’ll go down the line: each guest shall toast with a brief, witty rhyme.74 (As he says this, he lifts his mug with two hands and drinks; the others do the same as they offer their rhymes.) SILENUS I’ve been drinking nine days straight and today makes ten, I think, but I’ve not yet begun to drink! BACCHUS I’ve been drinking nine days straight, and though I’m Bacchus, renowned for thirst, if I drink more, I’m going to burst. (Midas wants to drink but cannot because his drink turns to gold.) MIDAS What kind of gift is this, lord Bacchus?: 74. Silenus is inviting them each to offer a mote, a short poetic form, often in three lines, sometimes used in poetic “jousts.” For more on motes, see note 113 of Count Partinuplés.

Four Interludes 63 whatever I touch, whatever I hold— unhappy fate!—turns straight to gold. TIMOLUS I’m not allowed to drink the pure stuff75 for I’m to judge this pack of satyrs, so I shall offer my toast later. GUASORAPO Though my name means water bug, I drink no water, only wine: Guasorapo sips things refined. VERTUMNUS Though the lettuce in my garden imbibes clear water in its bed, I myself like white or red. CUPID I toast to Bacchus and to Midas. When it comes to drinking, I can vouch: this slouching Cupid is no slouch!

Since I’m daughter of a river, the watered-down stuff is my wish: I’ll swim in it just like a fish.76

DAPHNE

SYRINX I like the simple pastoral life and crave things wholesome and demure, so if you please, I’ll have mine pure.

75. Wine could be served puro (“pure”) or aguado (“watered-down”). Many of the motes trade on this distinction. 76. Daphne was sometimes understood to be daughter of the River Ladon, a tributary of the Peneus, and therefore was seen to be the daughter of Peneus, the river god. In Ovid, Syrinx also has associations with Ladon. Here, Enríquez presents them as virtual sisters of the same river. The Spanish mote has Daphne swearing to drink watered-down wine with the obscure oath, “by the phlegm of the fish,” which in this context has a double meaning. Some liberties have been taken with the translation.

64 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN POMONA

Too much water is a danger, it rots the fruit upon the tree: undiluted is for me.

PAN

I’m proud to say that our battle for victory in music shall be featured at this Bacchanal.

For my sins I once was forced to serve as Admetus’s man:77 now I’m forced to drink with Pan.

Patrone Midas, bebeto recio filiolo. Eateth if thou can’t.79

APOLLO

SILENUS 78

CUPID Love here is swimming up to his gills. Oh, bless us, Your Majesty, with a golden toast.

Better off never to be born, better to never take a breath: to live like Midas is a living death.

SILENUS

MIDAS Woe is me. Everyone’s eating, everyone’s toasting, everyone’s drinking, everyone’s laughing, and the laugh’s on me. Look at them grinning, look at them mocking:

77. Admetus: legendary king of Epirus whom Apollo served for a year as punishment for having killed the Cyclops. 78. Pseudo Latin-Spanish to the effect of: “Lord Midas, drink strongly, my son.” 79. Pérez’s edition gives this line to Midas, but, following Teresa S. Soufas’s edition, it is assigned to Silenus; see “Entreactos de la segunda parte,” Women’s Acts, 229–58, hereafter cited as “Entreactos”).

Four Interludes 65 their cocky glances wound my heart.80 Bacchus, I wish I’d never begged your deity for such a gift: I can no longer to suffer it, my death surely approaches! DAPHNE Drink this glass in my name, lord Midas.

And in mine.

And in my name as well, may you drink this glass.

SYRINX

POMONA

(They drink.) MIDAS Wasn’t it enough that every last thing I touch turns to gold—the salt, the knife; the bread, the water, the meat, the fish, even this tablecloth and these tankards—without my having to go raving mad with hunger and slowly die, dried up from thirst? And still they mock me? Oh, what torment! Bacchus, how can you permit this? Is it your will that I feel this pain? Why did you choose to give me this gift that consumes me with suffering and rage? CUPID Midas, you’ve treated my pretty maidens with unpardonable rudeness. Feel these arrows from Cupid, my friends! [shooting arrows] Avenge this affront, Vertumnus; 80. The Spanish has an untranslatable pun on pulla (an obscure obscenity) and puya (a word referring to non-material things that cause emotional pain) (Soufas, “Entreactos,” 323).

66 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN these are for you, valiant Pan and Guasorapo; Apollo, I take aim! Fall at once in love with them and be requited with disdain.81 APOLLO Oh, treacherous Slouch, the blow you’ve landed!

Oh, perfidious little Slouch!

PAN

GUASORAPO Oh, gods, what an ungodly ouch! VERTUMNUS What a burning wound from the great god Slouch. CUPID Flee, pretty maidens, into the forest before Apollo becomes appalling and Pan starts panting for your gifts. And you four men—please take it easy. (The three maidens exit fleeing, with Apollo, the satyrs, and Vertumnus following after them.) BACCHUS Everyone, will you please calm down? I’m still presiding over this table.

And I’m still residing under it!82 But all the same, I’m still able to toast each drinker twenty times.

SILENUS

81. Enríquez here draws on a widely known episode from Book I of the Metamorphoses: Cupid wounds Apollo with an arrow that causes him to love Daphne, while his similar arrow causes Daphne to abhor Apollo. Enríquez weaves it into the lesser-known stories of Pan/Syrinx and Vertumnus/Pomona from later books of the Metamorphoses. 82. The joke in Spanish trades on banquete (“banquet”) and banqueta (“stool”); a different solution has been found in English to preserve the wit.

Four Interludes 67 Everyone toast seven times to Princess Maya83 and her six sisters. Long live these lovely ladies who adorn the courts of the Occident! Two more times for Hercules and his dear friend Philoctetes!84 Nine more toasts now, if you please, to the nine Muses! Twelve more toasts— one for each month of the year, my friends! MIDAS Take pity, Bacchus. I’m worn out from hunger and thirst. All I touch turns to gold. BACCHUS Keep the wine going round! It’s time to test this Slouching Cupid, who found his target in Apollo, bowed the head of Pan the flutist, and, over Guasorapo and Vertumnus, claimed triumphant victory: love triumphs over everything, for love, after all, is everything. Daphne, Syrinx, and Pomona treated these four men cruelly. Come on, Silenus! Thirty lashes of sweet, fragrant wine to Cupid. Let him have it until he crumples! CUPID Oh, Bacchus, you have matched my strength. As much as I let my arrows fly, your cuts and strokes are strong as death.

The prize to Bacchus!

SILENUS

83. Character in Part Two of the Tragicomedy, sometimes seen as Enriquez’s self-representation. 84. “Famous friends of Greek mythology: Philoctetes inherited Hercules’s invincible bow and mortal arrows” (Soufas, “Entreactos,” 322–23).

68 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN

To Bacchus, the prize!

ALL

MIDAS Oh, mighty champion from the east,85 Midas will sing of your great triumphs if you’re good enough to let him drink— yes, drink a mighty toast to you. I make you this solemn promise, and my word is good as gold. BACCHUS The god of knowledge must first pay homage. Next, let Cupid kiss my hand. They are now like my vassals since they bow before my laws. APOLLO Oh, misbegotten sciences, Oh, unlucky arts and letters— flee from wine, flee from Love, they’re the worst plagues in the world. When you think you’re free of them, they respond with cruel disdain, then flee, just as fleet Daphne fled from me on the treacherous wind. Please take this advice from me: give in to women, give in to time; by patiently conceding defeat, eventually you will win the day. PAN Fiery Apollo, look to us three if you’re seeking consolation: our flesh also felt the sting of Slouching Cupid’s treacherous arrows, and my beloved nymph, Syrinx, has fled from our arms as well.

85. See note 13.

Four Interludes 69 VERTUMNUS Nor does Pomona feel any pain for her loyal and true Vertumnus. GUASOROPO Guasorapo is not ashamed to say, his love has also squirmed away.86 MIDAS Oh, great Bacchus, you who triumphed in Nysa and all Arabia,87 grant your pardon to foolish Midas for having asked for such a gift. BACCHUS Midas, don’t let avarice guide us: it is the root of all our woes; it is the knife that deprives us of all good things, with its cruel blade. Now bring on the third contest! Timolus and you shall be judges: if you render fitting judgment, your sentence may just be dismissed. TIMOLUS Let us hear you sing your song, Pan, but before launching into verse, both of you, please brush your locks— as for mine, they’re quite well brushed. (Pan brushes his locks with a horse brush.88)

Old Timolus, catch my thrust.

PAN (singing)

86. The joke in the original—Y Guasorapo dice que son unas pieles (“Guasorapo says that they are just some skins”)—is obscure. 87. See note 13. 88. Both Apollo and Pan were traditionally represented as having lush curls. The horse brush is another grotesque touch by Enríquez.

70 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN Midas, hear what I compose. After all these days, you’re dry as crust yet still well gilded: your face and clothes are like a sun that brightly glows. Mighty Bacchus, hear my pleading and pardon our ignorant Midas. Wealth, after all, leads to good breeding and good manners, so don’t chide us for wanting a little gold to guide us. This king now grasps your clever plan, and so with Midas be more measured. We’ve seen the measure of the man: who can count the size of his treasure, which measures so much, yet brings no pleasure?89 (Apollo has been combing himself with an ivory comb, and other curious brushes that Silenus has given him.) TIMOLUS Well done. Resplendent Apollo, I see you’ve combed your radiant brow, and teased out your tangled locks. Sing three verses for us now. APOLLO (singing)

Wise Timolus, my song can’t miss. Golden Midas, my verse shall follow. You think some beast crowned with acanthus who croaked a melody harsh and hollow can outdo the great god Apollo? My lyre resounded through the spheres in the ancient days of wonder: it was attended by all men’s ears when Jupiter with his blasts of thunder

89. The original revolves around word play between “Midas” and the verb medir, “to measure.” Some liberties have been taken to preserve the word play and rhyme scheme, here and elsewhere in these songs.

Four Interludes 71 put the Titans six feet under.90 To tell the truth, it’s no great prize to beat this rustic, tooting satyr. No, my goal is otherwise: to woo a nymph who is a traitor— I sing so Cupid may persuade her. TIMOLUS The sweetness of your melody, the mellow beauty of your chords the gentle grandeur of your words, profess the poetic majesty and express the soothing harmony that lives, Apollo, in your voice— this music makes the hills rejoice. With your splendid instrument, you suspend the firmament. Pan bows before you. You are my choice! (All except Midas cry out, “The prize to Apollo!”) MIDAS If my vote’s worth anything, listen to my verdict, please. Pan’s song was like a buzz of bees. It had a lovely murmuring that pricked my ears with a gentle sting. Your song would make the Fates drop dead and stop the spinning of their thread. It cedes nothing to Apollo. I find Timolus’s verdict hollow, no matter what nine Muses said. (Vertumnus and Guasorapo cry out, “The prize to Pan!”)

With the curse of gold, alas,

APOLLO

90. The Spanish has Jupiter burying the “giant squadron” in Tinacria, or ancient Sicily.

72 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN unhappy Midas, you have been fated, and with one more you’ll now be weighted: for being vulgar and lacking class, you shall wear the ears of an ass. Let your beloved Pan salute these ears of yours with his flute, and since there is no way to hide them, you must simply learn to abide them— after all, they are quite cute. There’s only one thing left to do. Brother Bacchus, I ask you to lift from Midas your destructive gift before he dies of the golden rule.

Go, Midas, rustic peasant— I follow Apollo. Without fuss wash off the curse in the Pactolus.

BACCHUS

SILENUS And may its flowing waters disguise two ears that are of donkey size: Apollo wins! No more to discuss! ALL The prize to Apollo! To Apollo, the prize! (And they all bray at Midas and his ears, which at this moment are revealed via a sort of mask. Silenus applies them to Midas’ head and ears.) BACCHUS Midas, you remind me of that celebrated, foolish donkey who went strolling one fine day in a noisy rooster’s company.91 A lion appeared, threatening them 91. Bacchus here parses Aesop’s fable of “The Donkey, the Rooster, and the Lion,” which cautions against over-confidence.

Four Interludes 73 with his claws. The rooster sang as loud as he could. The lion fled, taken aback by the rooster’s song. The donkey thought the lion fled for fear of him, so he lifted his ears and chased the lion, braying madly, losing sight of his valued chanticleer. The lion suddenly turned around, and found that poor ass all alone. Let’s say his fury and his hunger vanished in a single gulp. The only thing left for you to say is what that ass said when he saw he was about to draw his last breath: “O miserable, unfortunate one, look at what a fool you’ve been.” Thus Slouching Cupid, my fierce rival, also presumed the victory his when I’m the one who won the triumph. SILENUS Good friend Midas, with Apollo, you’re like that other ignorant donkey who came across a lion’s pelt when he was walking through the forest.92 In an instant, nor man nor beast could be found in that forest estate; they huddled together in deep ravines, they clung to each other in darkened caves; but once they saw they’d been deceived, how they lunged at the little creature beneath the pelt. What gave him away? His ears were the distinguishing feature! They boxed the donkey without mercy and with these very words they mocked him: “Oh, ass, we’d know you anywhere!” Midas, you should thank Apollo. He has shown you more kindness than you showed yourself with your haughty request for that foolish gift of gold. 92. Silenus parses Aesop’s “The Donkey and the Lion Skin.”

74 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN Show him some respect, at least: after all, he could have made you a horse and sent you into mortal battle, a golden bit between the teeth, and golden spurs and golden saddle. Think of the donkey going humbly down the road, straining beneath its heavy load of tile and brick, who was pushed aside when the cavalry thundered by with sudden violence. Take solace in that miserable ass who thanked his poor donkey’s luck when that horse got run through with a lance.93 MIDAS And Silenus, for your judgment in all arts— May Cupid pierce you with a thousand darts. (And with everybody hissing and braying at him, they start to exit; and here the “First Interlude to Part Two” ends.)

93. Silenus parses Aesop’s “The Donkey and the Horse.”

Second Interlude to Part Two94 (Enter Midas, with his donkey’s ears, and Lichas, his slave,95 with his donkey’s tail.) MIDAS Lichas, Lichas, my dear slave, whom I love like a son—your father, Hercules’s Lichas, was not loved as much by his lord. Even though hunger had me furiously raving far more than Hercules’s venomous fury, I haven’t done to you what he did to your father—that is, take him by the feet, whirl him around on his arms like a sling, and hurl him into the sea, where he became the cliff that today still bears the name Lichas.96 LICHAS Then why, King Midas, Lord Donkey Ears, are you messing with me like this? I should take you by the ears and make you bray so loudly that Pan and Apollo hear you and make you judge them again so they can finish you off with a whole donkey’s head. MIDAS Oh, miserable destiny! Obliging me run to wild through these woods with just a stupid, simple slave. If I had his tail and he had my ears, we’d each make a perfect donkey. LICHAS You with my tail? No way! And me with your ears? Impossible! Even a mule’s ears wouldn’t be as bad—they look like lettuce, you could eat them in a salad.

94. This interlude would have been performed between Acts Three and Four of The Tragicomedy of the Sheban Gardens and Fields, Part Two. 95. The actual Lichas of classical mythology was Hercules’s slave, as Midas immediately explains, citing an episode from Book IX of the Metamorphoses in which Hercules hurls Lichas into the Euboic Sea for bringing him a poisoned shirt. Enríquez has invented a son of the same name who here serves as gracioso (comic stage sidekick) to Midas. The inspiration may be the close similarity in their Spanish names: Midas and Licas. Like other graciosos (and their literary brethren, such as Sancho Panza), Lichas provides a comic counterpoint to his master. His speech is full of malapropisms. Though many of these are untranslatable, his dialogue has been infused with examples of mis-speech. 96. The Lichades, a group of Greek islands in the North Euboean Gulf of the Aegean Sea. They were said to have been formed by the parts of Lichas’s body that remained after Hercules hurled him into the sea.

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76 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN MIDAS Lichas, my son, on my life, hear me out, I’m not in the mood for these moldy graces of yours. Bacchus heard my pleas. By bathing in the river Pactolus as he ordered, I escaped a furious, anguished death. Now that I can eat and drink again, I need you to be loyal and taciturn. As you know, a man who knows how to keep quiet is a saint.97 LICHAS God help me, that’s rich! A man who knows how to keep quiet is a saint? This saint needs to confess, even if it means wailing into a sainted wall.98 MIDAS Well, this time you’re not going to give in to that urge. You’re going to guard my ears’ secret like a bag of gold. LICHAS King and master, how can that be when you order me to do that other thing? Saints get quiet only when arms start talking. MIDAS Well, then I’ll use these arms to make you shut up. (And he pulls on Lichas’ ears with both hands.) LICHAS Ah, ah, you’re pulling out my ears, you’re ripping then right out of my temples, you’ve made them as big and ugly as your own. Oh, my innocent, blameless ears! My tongue did the sinning, and my ears pay the price! It’s nothing new for the righteous to pay for the sins of sinners. For what the mouth says, the noggin pays. (aside) But, King Donkey, you’ll pay for this in the same currency of ears. You pulled mine right out of my temples, and I’ll pull yours right out of your pate, right out from under that mane you cover them up with in public, and then everyone will applaud them. You were an ass to trust your secret to a slave and a horse to insult him so deeply. Just you wait, King Midas. I’ll be back for revenge. 97. Through this proverb, Enríquez satirizes the Spanish honor code, strongly tied to one’s public reputation. A good servant was expected to guard his master’s honor by keeping his secrets. 98. The original joke is obscure, using popular sayings to play upon associations between “holy man,” “holy wall,” and, in Lichas’s next speech, “holy laws.” A few liberties have been taken to ensure that the English makes sense.

Four Interludes 77 (Exit Lichas.) MIDAS Have you learned your lesson, Lichas, my son? Will you keep my ears a secret? Where are you off to, raving mad? What are you doing there, with your face to the ground? Are you looking for crickets in the earth’s crevices? (Lichas returns.) LICHAS Oh, King of Asses—excuse me, I meant to say King and Master. The sky promised the earth: nothing shall be covered up. Truth is, I was fit to burst, ready to give birth. I was dying to tell everyone Your Golden Highness-ty had donkey’s ears. You ordered me to be quiet, you threatened me, you tried to teach me a lesson. I was bursting, and so I negotiated a peaceful resolution to your royal mandate. I didn’t tell your secret to anyone on earth—I told it to mother earth instead. She’s your mother just like mine. I joined my mouth to her many mouths, which were open and waiting. The only thing I told her, in secret, was: For being stupid Midas wears A stubborn pair of donkey ears. MIDAS Oh, you thief, evil man, traitor. You’re going to give me away! (Enter Daphne, Syrinx, and Pomona, fleeing.) DAPHNE Flee from your pursuers, my friends Syrinx and Pomona. They’re running just like fast Apollo, who’s chasing after me. (They exit, fleeing. Enter Apollo, Pan, and Vertumnus, running.) APOLLO Wait, most beautiful nymph! You’ll see I’m not your enemy. Ah, by the gods, wait, look at me! I’m not some shepherd or vulgar peasant or cruel butcher of a wolf to flee from. Love compels me to follow you. I’m terribly frightened you might fall and hurt yourself, and I’d be the cause of your pain. (He hastily exits.)

78 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN PAN Don’t flee, beautiful Syrinx, princess of the Hamadryads99 and the Nonacrine100 nymphs! You are daughter of the sacred lake Ladon, made famous by the shepherds of Arcadia.101 And I am Pan, your goat-horned god, who would judge himself quite fortunate to marry you. (And he also exits running.) VERTUMNUS Wait, my Pomona, my crafty apple-picker! Vertumnus craftily wishes to pick your apples. You are nymph of plants and cultivator of fruit trees. And I am the gardener god of orchards and groves. (And he exits just as hastily.) LICHAS Seems to me those three watched pots are never going to boil. MIDAS Lichas, my son, the cats came late to the sausage. The three girls have made it safely away. (Enter Daphne, fleeing, with laurel boughs in both hands, her arms spread, and a garland in her hair.102) DAPHNE Oh, Peneus, my father, whether you are here in Arabia or in your Thessaly, if you have any power or divinity, rescue your disconsolate daughter.103 And you rivers, if you have any virtue, rescue me with your waters. Oh, earth, receive me within you or do away with my dangerous beauty that has caused me so much distress. (And she exits, raising her arms.)

99. Tree-dwelling nymphs (Soufas, “Entreactos,” 310). 100. From Nonacris, a mountainous region in ancient Arcadia. 101. See note 76. 102. In the myth, Daphne escapes Apollo by being transformed into a laurel tree, thus creating Apollo’s association with that plant, as Enríquez dramatizes, closely following Ovid. 103. See note 76.

Four Interludes 79 LICHAS Oh, King and Master—or King of Asses—whatever you prefer—what was that half-tree, half-woman that came and left on its own two feet? Seemed like she was calling the rivers. Why is she farting about some garden, spewing wind in her cultivated way about her own golden fruit?104 MIDAS May the wind she spews be in your face, Lichas. Listen. Someone’s chasing her. (Enter Apollo hastily.) APOLLO Wait, beautiful Daphne! Am I like Pan, some deformed satyr? Do I, like his friend Midas, have donkey’s ears, or, like his friend Lichas, a tail, which I gave him so he could go wag it behind him, making the two of them one donkey between them? (And he exits running.) LICHAS Oh, King of Asses—that’s your name now—what do you think? How do those thoughts ring in your ears? I’m so riled up, my tail’s standing straight up, like shoots in a garden! (Enter Syrinx, fleeing with green reeds in both hands, her arms outstretched, and garlands made from the tops of reeds on her head.105) SYRINX Oh, Ladon, my father, famed river of Arcadia! Though you are far from here, free your daughter Syrinx from this half-goat thief who would rob her honor and yours. (And she exits fleeing, her arms raised. Enter Pan, running.) PAN Wait, beautiful Syrinx! I don’t have donkey ears like Midas, for having rashly passed judgment, or a tail like his slave Lichas, for having applauded that judgment. 104. The Spanish plays on peer (“to break wind”) and Napea, a wood nymph (Soufas, “Entreactos,” 323). 105. In Ovid, Syrinx escapes Pan by being transformed into reeds by the River Ladon, thus creating Pan’s association with pipes made from reeds.

80 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN (And he exits running.) LICHAS So, King Gold Mine, what do you think of this fine pair of capons this bumpkin Pan is passing judgment on now? Asinine judges, you who pass foolish judgment on your friends, may you get paid back one day just like Pan! And you counselors, advisors, ministers—go ahead! Cheer! One day you’ll have plenty of your own donkey tails to be cheering about!106 (Enter Apollo with laurel crown and branch.) APOLLO Oh, cruel Peneus, what great cruelty have you worked upon your daughter to prevent me from enjoying her? Oh, Daphne, you are more beloved to me than ears are to Midas or a tail to Lichas. Since you can no longer be my bride, you shall be my tree. And rich men, captains, and kings shall make crowns of you when they triumph in battle, as I have done in your memory. For you, young scholars shall be crowned in renown. Good poets shall wear your crown of buds, leaves, and berries, as in the past they wore crowns of laurel, ivy, and myrtle. And when your branches are dry and withered, Midas shall crown his temples and ears with them, as shall all others like him—and there’ll be more than a few of them. (Exit Apollo.) (Enter Pan, with green reed tops, and a pan pipe or reed flute.) PAN Oh, Ladon, you thief, you took my Syrinx and left me a widower! Why did you change her into a field of reeds to shelter lizards, snakes, and salamanders? What disgrace befalls me this day? Her father and those other rogues took my little Syrinx from me, and now she’s breeding seeds of reeds in the weeds.107 But all of them together will not be strong enough to take away the consolation your reeds will bring me. I’ll make flutes and pan pipes from them, just like this one, like the ones my shepherds and I make in my name. And we’ll play them in town and country in your memory. And now I’ll use it to sweetly sing your praises. (And he plays the flute or pan pipes, singing.) 106. From “asinine judges” onward, Lichas’s speech seems to be directed to the audience. 107. The rhyme in the original revolves around yledilla (an obscure term that may be a variant of “frost”) and Siringuilla (diminutive of Syrinx). There is also a pun on Ladón and ladrón (“thief ”).

Four Interludes 81

For being stupid Midas wears A stubborn pair of donkey ears.

PAN

(And Lichas repeats, singing.)

For being stupid Midas wears A stubborn pair of donkey ears.

LICHAS

PAN Oh, rare, marvelous omen! What can this be? Here I am, with my pan pipe made of her reeds, fluting over my Syrinx, saluting her with my larynx, reputing her with her pharynx, and I end up applauding Midas’ ears instead.108 Oh, fabulous occurrence! Something miraculous is taking place. LICHAS Look, my Lord my King: what I planted in the ground has already borne fruit. Visible fruit! MIDAS Oh woeful, unlucky me, my affront is now made public everywhere. Oh, Pan, you poor, ungrateful, disloyal friend! Oh, faithless Lichas, you stubborn, blundering, disloyal slave! LICHAS Alas, alack. Poor, poor me. It’s not all my fault. Did that surly lynx have to sow her seeds in the same weeds where I unburdened myself of the load giving me that huge belly ache? MIDAS Oh, traitor, you and you alone are the cause of all my misfortune. LICHAS Silence, King Mighty-Ass, don’t be upset. I’ll take care of everything. Just you wait, I’ll pull out those ears that are bothering you so much. (And he grabs them.) 108. More of Enríquez’s characteristic word play. The Spanish words are Siringa (“Syrinx”), heringa (obscure neologism), and respinga (“winces”).

82 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN MIDAS Oh, evil, cruel, insolent man. Leave me, traitor, you’re killing me! PAN Quiet, my friend Midas, don’t shout. Lichas is doing the right thing. And I’ll help him too. (And they both grab his ears, pushing him to the ground.) MIDAS Ay, woe is me, these traitors are killing me! LICHAS He wanted them pulled out, didn’t he? Can’t he see they’re not held there by pins but stuck up against my tail?

Ay ay ay.

MIDAS

(Enter Bacchus, Silenus, Timolus, and Slouching Cupid.) BACCHUS What’s this, Lichas and Pan? Why are you treating our friend Midas so harshly? Is this the way you show his royal majesty respect? TIMOLUS What’s the cause of this, Pan my friend? MIDAS (getting up) Ay, great god Bacchus and my friend Timolus. They’ve killed me. SILENUS It’s the work of rogues who are as drunk as I am. PAN If you think I’m to blame, play this pan pipe made from reeds from my luckless Syrinx. She turned into them at the very same place where Lichas spoke of his master’s ears.

Four Interludes 83 TIMOLUS All these signs seem unmistakable to me, Midas my friend. The only thing to do is be patient. LICHAS Look, King Might-As-Well, the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Come here. Was it so bad getting these ears since they got you out of your golden curse? Quiet, before people think you have a merchant’s ears, which hear only what they want to hear. Look, time opens all wounds. Just as it dishonored my good tail, it’ll honor your bad ears. And over time, someone will say they’re not donkey’s ears but a mule’s, and gardeners will say they’re nothing but lettuce. Take heed of what I’m saying. There’s a touchstone for gold, and a touchstone for men, and the gold you touched had many carats, and all those carrots will be eaten by an ass.109 MIDAS Oh traitor, evil man, beast. I’m going to kill him! Don’t hold me back! Did he get this insolence from that dangling appendage you gave him? TIMOLUS King Midas my friend, you’re mistaken. Lichas shouldn’t be punished for telling the truth and offering sound advice and fitting penalties. Though he’s your servant, you shouldn’t look down on him. Advice is useful though the advisor be humble.

Even a donkey can taste molasses.

CUPID

TIMOLUS Midas my friend, draw courage and strength from these trials and tribulations. Brave men bear such things without fainting from fright. If God made you to be an anvil, then bear the blows like one. Look at the fur that’s started to grow on your head, and the hairnet you’ve covered it with. Good donkeys aren’t fierce, ferocious, and arrogant but simple, pleasant, and humble. They’re not brutish and vengeful but calm, temperate, and very patient. Trials, King Midas, make philosophers out of men. MIDAS Oh, royalty, look what you’re subject to, when heaven itself conspires against you! Oh, god of knowledge, who would dare offend you? Oh, inscrutable divine 109. The Spanish word play is somewhat different; the English translation makes use of the opportunities afforded by “carat” and “carrot.”

84 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN wisdom, how mysterious are your ways! How you bring down the mighty, and humble the proud and arrogant! How easily you bestow riches and then, in punishment for avarice, take them away! I had an honorable reputation, but I did not know myself. Now, not only do I find myself compared to beasts of burden, but I have become the most base, humble beast among them. LICHAS Well said! Look, King Mid-ass, the truth is, our entire life is nothing more than a play. We are given our dialogue by the gods. They may order us to play a king, just as they ordered you to do until recently, or they may order us to play a donkey, just as they’ve ordered you now. The same goes for Lichas, who now must wag his tail for drinking from the same pail. CUPID What bothers me most, Midas my friend, what I can’t stop crying over, is that you’ll no longer enjoy the caress of lapdogs. They’ll beat you to pieces if you try to play with them, and the queen will smack you with her clogs if you dare take pleasure in her skirts. But I can offer you one consolation. If you have to been made a donkey, at least you were made a stray one. With no master to look over you, you can wander far and wide through vineyards and fields. And if you’re lucky, some warden or grape-grower will cut off your ears for being a thieving ass and restore you to your previous form. MIDAS Well, everything is upside down. I, who needed consolation, now want to console others and give lessons to those who have been punished. And well I can, for those who learn from harsh example become clever kings. Oh, kings and princes of earth, learn from my example. Let your companion serve as a warning. Wise Timolus and his friend Silenus have sentenced you all to having big ears. Use them to listen to good advice. Don’t lend your ears to flatterers, musicians, and clowns, for if you do, you’ll end up with ears like mine. And if you don’t have big ears yet, keep your eye on friends and close advisors. Understand that they all want is your bread, wine, and gold; and if they won’t let you eat, drink, and spend it, it’s because they’re eating, drinking, and spending it themselves. What friends they’ve been, Pan, Bacchus, Silenus, and that other sheep-herding mule-driver! Friends who empty your wine glass, eat your bread, and break your fellowship! They cried “Wine!” and sold vinegar! And after they banqueted splendidly at my expense, they told me at the top of their lungs: (singing) For being stupid Midas wears A stubborn pair of donkey ears.

Four Interludes 85 LICHAS And poor Lichas has a tail Because he drank from that same pail. (They all dance, sing, and bray: “For being stupid Midas wears…”) (Enter Vertumnus and Pomona, hand in hand, and, in front of them, the dance of the gardeners, hand in hand, swords drawn, led by Guasorapo and Apollo.) APOLLO AND GUASORAPO (playing the flute and singing) May Pomona and Vertumnus forever be joined And live many years in comfort and joy. May Pomona and Vertumnus forever be joined, And Midas the donkey keep braying with joy. And as they are wed, may they find great reward As they go hand in hand and unsheathe their swords. And as they unsheathe them, in this great dance of Spain, May they formalize vows of the gardeners’ domain. Why seek out fool’s gold, you royal old fool? Gold’s where you find it, and so is a mule. Why did you render your judgment for Pan? Now you’re rendered a beast instead of a man. Why were you an ass to spark a god’s grudge? Now you’re an ass instead of a judge. May Pomona and Vertumnus forever be joined And live many years in comfort and joy. May Pomona and Vertumnus forever be joined, And Midas the donkey keep braying with joy. APOLLO (singing alone)

For being stupid Midas wears A stubborn pair of donkey ears. And poor Lichas has a tail Because he drank from that same pail.

(All singing and dancing: “Midas has a donkey’s ears, etc.”)

Midas was greedy and unrefined,

APOLLO

86 FELICIANA ENRÍQUEZ DE GUZMÁN Selfish, vulgar, crude, and coarse: Like a galloping gold-colored horse, Avarice ran away with his mind, And so Apollo repaid him in kind: For being stupid Midas wears A stubborn pair of donkey ears. And poor Lichas has a tail Because he drank from that same pail. (Apollo continues singing. Idem.) APOLLO Pan, Bacchus, Guasorapo; Ragged Silenus and wise Timolus; God of gardens, ripe Vertumnus; Slouching Cupid and Apollo— In the Pactolus, let us wallow. For being stupid Midas wears A stubborn pair of donkey ears. And poor Lichas has a tail Because he drank from that same pail. (Idem.) APOLLO Stamp like a donkey in the weeds, Bounce around and bray on rocks, Crown your temples and your locks With innocent Syrinx’s lovely reeds. We celebrate your asinine deeds! For being stupid you now wear A stubborn pair of donkey ears. And poor Lichas has a tail Because he drank from that same pail. ALL (singing and dancing) For being stupid Midas wears A stubborn pair of donkey ears. And poor Lichas has a tail Because he drank from that same pail.

Four Interludes 87 (And they all exit, braying.) End of the second interlude to Part Two.



COUNT PARTINUPLÉS: A COMEDIA by ANA CARO MALLÉN

Biographical Note “Doña Ana Caro, insigne poetisa que ha hecho muchas comedias, representadas en Sevilla y Madrid y otras partes, con grandísimo aplauso, en las cuales casi siempre se le ha dado el primer premio.” “Doña Ana Caro, famous poetess who has written many comedias, staged in Seville and Madrid and other places, with great praise, in which she has received almost always the first prize.”—Rodrigo Caro (1635) With these words, Rodrigo Caro (1573–1647) refers to Ana Caro Mallén in his Varones insignes en letras, naturales de la ilustrísima ciudad de Sevilla (Famous Men of Letters, Natives of the Illustrious City of Seville, 1635).1 This poet and playwright of seventeenth-century Spain was one of the most notable writers of the time,2 and he was not the only author to take notice of this “famous poetess.” That Ana Caro achieved fame and the recognition of her contemporaries can be seen in the fact that her name is also mentioned, among authors, by Luis Vélez de Guevara (in El diablo cojuelo, 1641), Alonso de Castillo Solórzano (in the novel La garduña de Sevilla y anzuelo de las bolsas, 1642), and María de Zayas y Sotomayor (in her Desengaños amorosos, 1647).3 Despite Caro’s popularity during her lifetime, information about her remains scarce.4 Born to a Morisco slave family at the end of the sixteenth century in Granada, Caro was about ten years old when she was baptized and legally adopted by Gabriel Caro de Mallén and Ana María de Torres in 1601. Ana María and Gabriel had one son, Juan Caro, before Ana María died. Gabriel Caro then married Alfonsa de Loyola and had a second son, Juan Mallén. The family moved to Seville so that Juan could complete his religious studies and become a friar. 1. Although she is commonly known as Ana Caro Mallén de Soto, the “de Soto” last name only appears once on the front page of the eighteenth edition of Count Partinuplés. All other documentation refers to her as Ana Caro Mallén or Ana María Caro Mallén de Torres. See Juana Escabias, “Ana María Caro Mallén de Torres: Una esclava en los corrales de comedias del siglo XVII,” EPOS 28 (2012): 179. 2. Some scholars have hypothesized that Rodrigo Caro and Ana Caro Mallén were cousins; see, e.g., Maria José, ed., Las comedias de Ana Caro: Valor, agravio y mujer y El conde Partinuplés (New York: Peter Lang, 1998), 3–5. Based on recently discovered documentation on her life, however, this family connection seems very unlikely. 3. For a more detailed summary of her literary connections, see Teresa S. Soufas’s edition of El conde Partinuplés in Women’s Acts: Plays by Women Dramatists of Spain’s Golden Age (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1997), 133n4. 4. Escabias has discovered significant information about Caro’s life. See Dramaturgas del Siglo de Oro: Guía Básica (Madrid: Huerga y Fierro Editores, 2013).

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Count Partinuplés 91 Caro probably started her writing career around 1628 in Seville. Records show that she received payment for two Corpus Christi autos sacramentales, entitled La puerta de la Macarena (The Gate of the Macarena, 1641) and La cuesta de Castilleja (The Hill of Castilleja, 1645), both lost.5 She also lived in or at least visited Madrid, where her first brother, Juan Caro, lived and maintained connections to the court. In Madrid, Caro had personal and literary relationships with some of the popular writers of the time, as we can see, for example, in her poetic production. Evidence suggests she forged a friendship with the writer María de Zayas during her time in Madrid. Among Caro’s poems composed for special occasions or events, there are compositions included in the preliminaries of Zayas’s first collection of short stories, praising her friend, as well as a poetic composition reporting the Buen Retiro celebrations in 1637.6 Together they enjoyed the city’s literary circles and also attended (and participated in) academias, such as the one presided over by Francisco de Mendoza.7 In addition to Caro’s plays and poetry, other works have survived. These include a few reports (relaciones) about local celebrations and events.8 As a playwright, Ana Caro composed autos sacramentales, of which we only know that the Loa sacramental for the Corpus Christi festivities of Seville was presented in 1639 and published that same year. Her two known comedias were probably staged, but there are no records. Valor, agravio y mujer (Valor, Offense, 5. See Amy Kaminsky, “Ana Caro Mallén de Soto,” in Spanish Women Writers: A Bio-Bibliographical Source Book, ed. Linda G. Levine, Ellen E. Marson, and Gloria F. Waldman (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1993), 86–97, and Lola Luna, “Ana Caro, una escritora ‘de oficio’ del Siglo de Oro,” Bulletin of Hispanic Studies 72, no. 1 (1995): 11–25. 6. Contexto de las reales fiestas que se hicieron en el Palacio de Buen Retiro a la coronación del Rey de Romanos, y entrada en Madrid de la Señora Princesa de Cariñán en tres discursos (1637) [Context of the royal celebrations that took place in the Buen Retiro Palace for the coronation of the King of the Romans, and the entry into Madrid of the Lady Princess of Carignan, in three parts], probably requested by the Count-Duke of Olivares himself (Escabias, “Ana María”). 7. See Alicia R. Zuese for a review of the participation of women in salon culture (academias) in “Ana Caro and the Literary Academies of Seventeenth-Century Spain,” in Women’s Literacy in Early Modern Spain and the New World, ed. Anne J. Cruz and Rosilie Hernández (Aldershot, England, and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2011), 191–208. 8. These reports include the Relación, en que se da cuenta de las grandiosas fiestas, que en el convento de N.P.S. Francisco de la Ciudad Sevilla se an hecho a los Santos Mártires de Iapón (1628) [Report that tells of the magnificent festivities held in the Convent of Saint Francis in the City of Seville, which were organized in the name of the Holy Martyrs of Japan]; the Grandiosa victoria que alcançó de los Moros de Tetuán Iorge de Mendoça y Piçaña, General de Ceuta (1633) [Magnificent victory of Jorge de Mendoza y Picaña, General in Ceuta, against the Moors in Tetouan]; and the Relación de la grandiosa fiesta, y octava, que en la Iglesia parroquial de el glorioso San Miguel de la Ciudad de Sevilla, hizo don García Sarmiento de Sotomayor (1635) [Account of the magnificent festivities, and Octave, that don García Sarmiento of Sotomayor organized in the Parish Church of the glorious Saint Michael, in the City of Seville].

92 Count Partinuplés Woman) survives today in a manuscript written in a seventeenth-century hand. El conde Partinuplés (Count Partinuplés) was printed in an extant 1653 collection of comedias in which plays by Calderón de la Barca and Vélez de Guevara also appear.9 Her last known publication is a sonnet published in a poetry compilation from Seville in 1646. In this same year, a certain María Ana Caro appears among the list of those who died from the plague in Seville’s Convent of the María Magdalena. We still lack confirmation as to whether this is the same woman as our playwright, yet the expenses for this Ana Caro’s funeral were high, so she clearly enjoyed some wealth. In accordance with funeral practices for plague victims, most of her belongings were burned. Nonetheless, given Ana Caro’s extensive involvement in literary circles and numerous mentions of various texts, we remain hopeful that more of her work will be discovered some day.

9. The collection is titled Laurel de Comedias: Quarta parte de diferentes autores (Madrid: En la Imprenta Real, a costa de Diego de Balbuena, 1653) [Garland of Comedias: Fourth Part by Different Authors].

Select Bibliography Editions El conde Partinuplés. Alicante: Biblioteca Virtual Miguel de Cervantes, 2010. . Digital reproduction from Laurel de comedias: Quarta parte de diferentes autores. Madrid: En la Imprenta Real, a costa de Diego de Balbuena, 1653, h. 135 [i.e. 153]–169). Biblioteca Nacional de España: Sig. R/22657. Delgado, María José, ed. Las comedias de Ana Caro: Valor, agravio y mujer y El conde Partinuplés. New York: Peter Lang, 1998. __________, ed. “Valor, agravio y mujer y El conde Partinuplés de Ana Caro: Una Edición Crítica.” Ph.D. diss., University of Arizona, 1993. Luna, Lola, ed. El conde Partinuplés. Vol. 45 of Teatro del Siglo de Oro: Ediciones críticas. Kassel: Reichenberger, 1993. Nieto-Cuebas, Glenda Y., ed. El Conde Partinuplés. Newark, DE: Cervantes & Co. Spanish Classics/Juan de la Cuesta. Forthcoming. Soufas, Teresa S., ed. El conde Partinuplés. In Women’s Acts: Plays by Women Dramatists of Spain’s Golden Age, edited with an introduction by Teresa S. Soufas, 137–62. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1997.

Studies Carrión, María M. “Portrait of a Lady: Marriage, Postponement, and Representation in Ana Caro’s El Conde Partinuplés.” MLN 114, no. 2 (1999): 241–68. Castro de Moux, María E. “La Leyenda del Conde Partinuplés: Magia y escepticismo en Tirso De Molina y Ana Caro.” RLA: Romance Languages Annual 10, no. 2 (1998): 503–11. Dougherty, Deborah. “Out of the Mouths of ‘Babes’: Gender Ventriloquism and the Canon in Two Dramas by Ana Caro Mallén.” Monographic Review/Revista Monográfica 13 (1997): 87–97. Ellis, Jonathan. “Royal Obligation and the ‘Uncontrolled Female’ in Ana Caro’s El Conde Partinuplés.” Bulletin of the Comediantes 62, no. 1 (2010): 15–30. Escabias, Juana. “Ana María Caro Mallén de Torres: Una esclava en los corrales de comedias del siglo XVII.” EPOS 28 (2012): 177–93. __________. Dramaturgas del Siglo de Oro: Guía Básica. Madrid: Huerga y Fierro Editores, 2013. Finn, Thomas P. “Women’s Kingdom: Female Monarchs by Two Women Dramatists of Seventeenth-Century Spain and France.” Bulletin of the Comediantes 59, no. 1 (2007): 131–48. 93

94 Count Partinuplés Gallego, Julián.Visión y símbolos en la pintura española del siglo de oro. Madrid: Cátedra, 1987. Gil-Oslé, Juan Pablo. “El examen de maridos en El Conde Partinuplés de Ana Caro: La agencia femenina en el Juicio de Paris.” Bulletin of the Comediantes 61, no. 2 (2009): 103–19. Kaminsky, Amy. “Ana Caro Mallén de Soto.” In Spanish Women Writers: A BioBibliographical Source Book, edited by Linda G. Levine, Ellen E. Marson, and Gloria F. Waldman, 86–97. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1993. __________. “María de Zayas and the Invention of a Women’s Writing Community.” Revista de Estudios Hispánicos 35, no. 3 (2001): 487–509. Leoni, Mónica. “Abriendo cajitas chinas: Magia múltiple en la obra de Ana Caro.” Baquiana: Revista Literaria 5 (2003): 142–52. Luna, Lola. “Ana Caro, una escritora ‘de oficio’ del Siglo de Oro.” Bulletin of Hispanic Studies 72, no. 1 (1995): 11–25. Lundelius, Ruth. “Spanish Poet and Dramatist: Ana Caro.” In Women Writers of the Seventeenth Century, edited by Katherina M. Wilson and Frank J. Warnke, 228–40. Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1989. MacKenzie, Ann L. “An Issue of Gender Women’s Perceptions and Perceptions of Women in Hispanic Society and Literature.” Bulletin of Hispanic Studies 72, no. 1 (1995): 1–5. Maroto Camino, Mercedes. “María de Zayas and Ana Caro: The Space of Woman’s Solidarity in the Spanish Golden Age.” Hispanic Review 67, no. 1 (1999): 1–16. __________. “Negotiating Woman: Ana Caro’s El Conde Partinuplés and Pedro Calderón de la Barca’s La Vida Es Sueño.” Tulsa Studies in Women’s Literature 26, no. 2 (2007): 199–216. Montauban, Jannine. “ ‘Descuidóse la poeta, ustedes se lo perdonen’: El gracioso en las comedias de Ana Caro.” Hispanic Research Journal 12, no. 1 (2011): 18–33. __________. “El retrato como síntoma y representación en el teatro de Ana Caro y María de Zayas.” Bulletin of the Comediantes 63, no. 2 (2011): 39–56. Mujica, Bárbara. Women Writers of Early Modern Spain: Sophia’s Daughters. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2004. Ordóñez, Elizabeth J. “Woman and her Text in the Works of María de Zayas and Ana Caro.” Revista de Estudios Hispánicos 19, no. 1 (1985): 3–15. Pérez-Romero, Antonio. “ ‘Si me buscas me hallarás’: Mujer buscada, hallada y admirada en El conde Partinuplés de Ana Caro.” eHumanista: Journal of Iberian Studies 17 (2011): 334–48. Requena Pineda, Susana. “La pareja Partinuplés-Melior y la doble perspectiva en El conde Partinuplés.” In Literatura de caballerías y orígenes de la novela, edited by Rafael Beltrán, 235–48. Valencia: Universitat de València, 1998.

Count Partinuplés 95 Riesco Suárez, Nerea. “Ana Caro de Mallén, la musa sevillana: Una periodista feminista en el Siglo de Oro.” I/C Revista científica de información y comunicación 2 (2005): 105–20. Salvi, Marcella. “ ‘Vasalla siendo señora y esclava siendo dueño’: Conflicto político-sexual en El conde Partinuplés y La reina Juana de Napoles.” In Escenas en conflicto: El teatro español e italiano desde los márgenes del Barroco, 72–86. New York: Peter Lang, 2005. Seidenspinner-Núñez, Dayle. “Symmetry of Form and Emblematic Design in El Conde Partinuplés.” Kentucky Romance Quarterly 30, no. 1 (1983): 61–76. Serrano y Sanz, Manuel. “Ana Caro.” Apuntes para una biblioteca de escritoras españolas desde el año 1401 al 1833, vol 1, 177–216. Madrid: Rivadeneira, 1903. Simerka, Barbara. “Early Modern Literature and Contemporary Feminist Philosophy: Allison Jaggar, Carol Gilligan and Ana Caro’s El Conde Partinuplés.” Revista de Estudios Hispánicos 33, no. 3 (1999): 495–512. Soufas, Teresa S. “Bodies of Authority: El Conde Partinuplés (Caro) and La firmeza en la ausencia (Cueva).” In Dramas of Distinction. A Study of Plays by Golden Age Women, 37–69. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1997. __________. “A Feminist Approach to a Golden Age Dramaturga’s Play.” In El arte nuevo de estudiar comedias: Literary Theory and Spanish Golden Age Drama, edited by Barbara Simerka, 127–42. Lewisburg, PA: Bucknell Univerity Press; London: Associated University Presses, 1996. Urban Baños, Alba. “El ‘yugo de Himeneo’: Obligación, elección y desenlace en El Conde Partinuplés de Ana Caro.” In Dramaturgos y espacios teatrales andaluces de las siglos XVI–XVII. Actas de las XXVI Jornadas de Teatro del Siglo de Oro, edited by Elisa García-Lara and Antonio Serrano, 385–402. Almería: Instituto de Estudios Almerienses, 2011. Vollendorf, Lisa. “Desire Unbound: Women’s Theater of Spain’s Golden Age.” In Women in the Discourse of Early Modern Spain, edited by Joan F. Cammarata, 272–91. Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2003. __________. The Lives of Women: A New History of Inquisitional Spain. Nashville: Vanderbilt University Press, 2005. Walen, Denise A. “The Feminist Discourse of Ana Caro.” Text & Presentation: The Journal of the Comparative Drama Conference 13 (1992): 89–95. Weimer, Christopher B. “Ana Caro’s El Conde Partinuplés and Calderón’s La vida es sueño: Protofeminism and Heuristic Imitation.” Bulletin of the Comediantes 52, no. 1 (2000): 123–46. __________. “Mimesis and Sacrifice: Girardian Theory and Women’s Comedias.” In Engendering the Early Modern Stage: Women Playwrights in the Spanish Empire, edited by Valerie Hegstrom and Amy R. Williamsen, 285–315. New Orleans: University Press of the South, 1999.

96 Count Partinuplés Zuese, Alicia R. “Ana Caro and the Literary Academies of Seventeenth-Century Spain.” In Women’s Literacy in Early Modern Spain and the New World, edited by Anne J. Cruz and Rosalie Hernández, 191–208. Aldershot, England, and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2011.

Plot and Analysis Count Partinuplés tells the story of Rosaura, Queen of Constantinople. Rosaura seeks to find an appropriate suitor, but hanging over her is a prophecy that has marked her since birth. Magic enters the play through her cousin, Aldora, who uses witchcraft to introduce Rosaura to four suitors from whom she must choose. Rosaura leans toward Count Partinuplés of France, who is already engaged to his cousin Lisbella. Through Aldora’s magic, Rosaura’s portrait is magically shown to the Count, inducing him to abandon Lisbella and pursue Rosaura. Through various spells and guises, Rosaura and Aldora lure the Count and his sidekick Gaulín to a magic castle, where they remain invisible to the men yet enjoy their favors. But the Count, moved by his curiosity, peeks at Rosaura while she sleeps. Feeling betrayed, she asks that he be killed. Aldora again uses her magic to make him disappear, ultimately taking him to the knightly tournament where the queen’s husband will be chosen. In the interim, Lisbella arrives in Constantinople to fight the Queen and find her fiancé, but confesses in the end that her marriage is just a political arrangement. In the tournament, the four suitors face off: Frederick of Poland, Robert of Transylvania, Edward of Scotland, and an unidentified knight wearing a helmet who turns out to be the winner. This unidentified knight is, of course, the Count, who then marries Rosaura. Meanwhile, Lisbella agrees to wed Robert, while Edward marries Aldora. Count Partinuplés is a play that calls for extensive stage effects, in keeping with many other plays that were being written at roughly the same time. Indeed, Caro’s Seville was known for this kind of theater of spectacle, in contrast to the better-known teatro aúreo (aural theater) that dominated popular stages early in the seventeenth century. Here, Caro uses this genre to rewrite and intertextually comment on a number of important sources. Her adaptation of the late medieval romance Partonopeus de Blois shifts the emphasis of the story from the title character to Rosaura, who here, arguably, becomes the protagonist; indeed, she takes on an agency in propelling the action to such an extent that the title character is rendered passive and reactive. Rosaura effectively becomes masculinized, and Partinuplés feminized, as further emphasized by the fact (in Caro’s inversion of the Cupid and Psyche myth) that Rosaura uses her invisibility to reverse the gender dynamics of the male gaze: she can always see Partinuplés, but he can never see her. Rosaura’s disguising herself as a beast and luring Partinuplés to hunt her thus becomes merely a ploy to cloak the fact that she is, on the contrary, hunting him. The many intertextual traces of Calderón’s La vida es sueño (Life is a Dream, 1635) here also dignify Rosaura’s struggle: she is both Basilio, agonizing over how to handle a portentous prophecy, and Segismundo, denied the liberty and agency

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98 Count Partinuplés due to her, though in this play she is denied these things by the circumstances of her gender. Amid the playful comedy and exuberant stage magic, then, Count Partinuplés imagines the many ways in which a woman of the time can evade, subvert, or challenge the dominant gendered order. The irony, of course, is that in the world of this play, this can only be accomplished through magic. Like all comedias, Count Partinuplés is polymetric: that is, the playwright shifts verse forms both between scenes and within scenes, to signify a change of tone. The bulk of Caro’s play—like the bulk of comedias—relies on redondillas (four-line stanzas of eight syllables per line, in an abba rhyme scheme) and romance (four-line stanzas of eight syllables per line, often in an abcb rhyme scheme). Other, more heightened or rarefied verse forms are deployed generally for some special effect or impact. The footnotes indicate where the verse shifts in Spanish.

Count Partinuplés: A Comedia10 Characters11 The Count King of France, old man Rosaura, lady Aldora, her cousin Lisbella, lady Gaulín, gracioso Robert of Transylvania Edward of Scotland Frederick of Poland Clauso Emilio, old man Arcenio, nobleman Two Fishermen Retinue

ACT ONE 12 (Sound of drums and bugles. Enter Arcenio and Clauso, with swords drawn, followed by Emilio, holding them back.)

10. This translation follows Lola Luna’s critical edition of El conde Partinuplés (Kassel: Reichenberger, 1993), based largely upon the original published version of the play, which appeared in vol. 4 of Diego de Balbuena’s Laurel de Comedias (1653). References to Luna’s edition will be cited as “Luna, El conde Partinuplés,” with the corresponding page. Prior to the cast list, the 1653 version of the play states: “The Great Play, Count Partinuplés, by Doña Ana Caro, native of the kingdom of Andalucía.” Caro’s play is adapted from the French chivalric novel, Partonopeus de Blois, first translated into Spanish in 1497. By 1643, the novel had seen at least ten Spanish editions (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 28). 11. The cast of characters references types of performers possessed by every theater company: a leading lady, or dama; a second dama; a gracioso (the comic sidekick who generally accompanied the leading man, or galán); and a handful of viejos, or old men, figures of paternal authority who were often known as barbas because of their beards. The Count is presumed to be the galán, while the other suitors are supporting actors, secondary galanes. This cast list does not include all the speaking parts in the play; it leaves out, for example, the character of Celia. As in many published comedias, the order of characters in the list does not have a clear guiding principle. 12. Like all comedias, Partinuplés divides the action only into acts, not scenes. Whenever the stage is empty, a scene break is presumed to take place. The play opens in an indeterminate location in or around Rosaura’s palace in Constantinople.

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100 ANA CARO MALLÉN

The matter’s urgent. Our kingdom demands a successor right now!13

Gentlemen, tell us what fury drives you to this raging passion.

She marries or loses the kingdom!

ARCENIO

EMILIO

CLAUSO

EMILIO

Patience. Your anger is fully justified.

ARCENIO She weds or gives up this empire she governs. EMILIO

Rosaura is your rightful lady.

No one denies it. The call to arms!

ARCENIO

CLAUSO

Sound the call!

(The call to arms is sounded. Enter Rosaura and Aldora. All are disturbed to see her.)

Stop this unjust insurrection!

But I …

ROSAURA 14

ARCENIO

13. The Spanish opens in the romance verse form, four-line stanzas with an assonant ABCB rhyme pattern. 14. The insurrection is called unjust because Rosaura has been acknowledged above as their natural lady—that is, their ruler by birthright. The challenge to her authority is therefore potentially treasonous.

Count Partinuplés 101

My lady …?

CLAUSO

ROSAURA

You fail to speak? You can’t reply? What’s the matter? What undoes your accustomed calm? What disquiets your harmony? To profane the sanctity of this oasis! To bring disorder to this palace and trample on its sacred laws! What’s the cause of this, my vassals? Do enemies assault our coasts? Do savage Persians threaten our peace? Tell me, for I am fervent, fearless, and like the famous Amazons15 I’ll fiercely join you in battle to defend our kingdom’s crown, and even offer my own life with heroic resolution so you can live in peace and pleasure. Don’t just stand there idly, hiding why you’re so upset out of love for me: your silence impedes my conduct of state business. Speak.

How wise!

How beautiful!

Don’t deny my fury.

Great lady, most beautiful empress, please

ARCENIO

EMILIO

ROSAURA

ARCENIO

15. Mythical warrior women presumed to reside, in matriarchal dominance, in the Caucasus (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 82).

102 ANA CARO MALLÉN pardon our crime. You are the cause. ROSAURA If this be some grievance you harbor, or some form of flattery, saying I’ve caused you this distress, know you’ve earned my trust for heroic loyalty, my vassals. But be advised, your loyalty amounts to little if your intentions are kept from me. Answer. EMILIO Lovely Rosaura, I’ll tell you why they’re here before you: hear me out and grant me pardon. You know the obligations that come with ruling this great kingdom, and why it’s vital that you wed. You’re well aware your kingdom asks your consent to make a match. The princes of Poland and Cyprus, of Transylvania, England, and Scotland have all been proposed to you. So marry, lest the dawn of your tender age elapse into a fruitless sunset. This is law. This is inviolate. Given your age, this delay could have the most costly effect. It’s said your crown could be divided among competing factions, and your life itself be put at risk. So choose a husband before your vassals break the oaths they’ve sworn to you. If you don’t, then be forewarned, you’ll confront a vulgar mob that seeks to forward its own cause. I advise you, Empress, to consider whether your freedom means as much

Count Partinuplés 103 as the need for you to marry.16 ROSAURA (aside) How can I answer? I drown in anger, my eyes drink venom from the well of my heart. How audacious! What an outrage! What an uncalled-for act of madness! They offend me with blatant disrespect, they dare to challenge my great worth. But there’s nothing to be done. Once these thankless men deny the duty which they owe the crown, and take up arms, how can I— yes, how can I, one woman, alone, defend myself against so many men? What’s more, they’re partly justified. If only I had listened to you, dear Aldora! What should I do? ALDORA Answer sweetly, and ask for one more year. And if at that year’s end, you remain unwed, give them the right to have our Kingdom ruled by whomever they see fit. ROSAURA (aside) Oh vassals, if you are such traitors, why am I forced to ply you with flattery, why am I made to buy you with favors?

Great lady, what is your response?

Grateful yet uncertain about

EMILIO

ROSAURA

16. Rosaura’s unwillingness to marry classifies her as a mujer esquiva, a common type of the Spanish Golden Age stage. The term implies stubbornness, resistance, independence, or willfulness without the strong negative connotations of the English “shrew.”

104 ANA CARO MALLÉN the affection lavished and the choices offered, I hesitated—but now hear me out, vassals, for I shall proclaim, so all may know, the obstacle that, for such a long time, has stood in the way of my designs.17 You remember how this great empire, radiant splendor of the hemisphere, rendered obedience to its sovereign, Aureliano, the brave and sincere. He was my father, and his regal lineage could be traced to ancient days. You also know about my mother— that beautiful lady, may she be praised— who went so long without bearing an heir. Oh, the many sleepless nights they spent begging for heaven’s aid— such endless petitions for what is right! As you see, heaven finally heard the fervent call of their desire, and in compassion or in duty choose to bless them with a child. But what a price for bearing this fruit! Unhappy fate! The untimely death of Rosimunda, dawn of Puzol,18 clouded the drawing of my first breath. Yes, my dawn became a sun setting upon her darkened soul. Listen carefully. The Emperor, my beloved father, paid a toll. From that sad day, all happiness became a far and distant thing. Hovering between death and life, he offered to his suffering 17. Most comedias have a long narration of the sort that is about to follow, often signaled to the audience by the speaker’s asking the listeners to hear him or her out, and by a shift in verse (both of which occur here). Lope de Vega counseled that these speeches are best related in romance, the form of traditional ballads, but here Caro inverts Lope’s formula, shifting from the more prosaic romance to the more elevated silva at the start of the following line. The translation highlights the silva by adopting an ABCB rhyme scheme. 18. Puzol: town in northern Valencia, Spain. It is ambiguous whether Rosimunda literally hails from Puzol or whether Caro is invoking, for her audiences, a town on Spain’s eastern coast and hence metaphorically referencing the sunrise that is Rosaura’s dawn.

Count Partinuplés 105 a Christian truce: to die at his own hand would be to die in vain. Would such a death revive the dead? So he suspended his state of pain and turned his attention to my fate, seeking to determine my destiny. He consulted the heavens, gauged their light; he measured the kindness—or the cruelty— of the planets: of Venus and Mars, Jupiter and Diana,19 these stars that, tapers of our turquoise sphere, cast their glow on this globe of ours. Astrologers made observations, and no dissenting voice was heard: a thousand fatal blows shall fall!20 (I tremble now to speak the words.) A man, they said, destructive and cruel, would requite my truth with lies. He’d break the oath he made to me, and rain down fury from the skies. Be on your guard, they said, or else your crown itself shall not be safe. This man would use our wedding vows to take my life and break all faith. All this I heard from my father’s lips— the adversity that lay in store, all the misery my future held. So my vassals, I now implore your patience and consideration. If I lose myself, we will all be lost, and so I resolved not take a lord. At least such has been my course, but now you put me through this trial —just or unjust, as it may be— so I’ll adjust, and do just as you say. If you insist, I’ll give you a King, whether from Albania, Scotland, Cyprus, 19. Diana: the moon. 20. Many aspects of Rosaura’s speech recall Calderón de la Barca’s La vida es sueño (Life is a Dream), in which astrologers foretell that a child whose mother dies in childbirth will bring about the downfall of a kingdom. Rosaura is also the name of the leading dama in Calderón’s play.

106 ANA CARO MALLÉN England, Poland, or Transylvania. I will surrender, but not in battle. He must conquer on the field of favor. Constancy, requited love, and pleasure will be what takes the day. Let them woo me with gallantry, let them move me with what they say. Yes, they can test my proud indifference, write me letters, court me, serve me. If I’m to surrender to their persistence, let’s first see if they deserve me, for I am vigilant and stand forewarned. I’ll flee the fate of which they spoke by finding the most faithful man. If I must submit to Hymen’s yoke— that state that I both crave and fear— then let me assure you with this reply: to be most certain, give me one year, and then I will marry or I will die. Yes, if at the end of that time, you find me still unwilling to wed, then force me to marry the man you will or find a foreign king instead. Noble vassals, help me defeat the cruel caprice of my inhuman fate, for I remain your sovereign still. Let’s unmask the cunning mate whose vows would be pure perjury; let us find the method or manner to avoid the fearful augury and escape the cruel destructive fate written in heaven’s prophecy that makes a coward of my heart. This, my nobles, is what I hope to achieve, and why I plead for your support. Yes, these are the fears of unhappy Rosaura, these her thoughts and her intentions, and these the plans that may restore her. EMILIO Beautiful Empress, your distress is just.

Count Partinuplés 107 Take a year, Your Majesty, to fully test these men for loyalty and obedience. We vassals are at your behest. We bow before you and serve your cause. I offer this as my true pledge. Now, Your Highness, give us your word. ROSAURA

It shall be as I have just said.

21

EMILIO I am content with this agreement. With this, our empire may be restored. May time inscribe your name in bronze! Long live the Empress! Long live Rosaura! (Drums and dances. [Exit Emilio and the others.])

Cousin, you look hesitant.22

ALDORA

ROSAURA Aldora, I find no peace in my fate, no peace. I fear these auguries. If I choose some ingrate as my lord, my own heart will be the instrument of my undoing. Cousin, I’d like to see these suitors first, the ones my vassals have proposed. I’d like to see if any among them has the talent, brilliance, and grace to please me. I’d like to test his temperament, I’d like to peer into his heart, sound out his speech, measure his mind, penetrate his deepest purpose, unearth what lies beneath his breast. Is he peaceful? Is he ambitious? 21. It may seem repetitive for Emilio to ask Rosaura to reiterate her intentions after she has just explained them, but this request has the ritualized quality of a speech-act, akin to publicly swearing an oath. The request may also suggest his lingering distrust of her. 22. The Spanish verse shifts to romance.

108 ANA CARO MALLÉN Or a plain and simple idiot? But should I fail to find this out, and I be forced to plunge into the dark and haughty waters of the suitor who my empire chooses, whether he’s blind or ambitious— dear God, what pleasure can I find in that?: a ruler who’s become a vassal, a lady who’s become a slave.23 ALDORA You argue well, but who can know the inner workings of the heart and the secrets of the soul? Today, the most that I can do is use my skill in magical arts (this skill of which you’re well aware) to conjure up these various princes, making manifest to you their outward appearances and looks, and since one is often forced to detect something’s cause from its effect, these forms should help you theorize which one’s wise and likes to study, which one’s modest, which one’s haughty, and which one is tender and loving. You may just lean in one’s direction before you meet the man in person, when over-decorous inspection would prevent you from choosing any. ROSAURA Oh, how I’m in your debt, Aldora! If you’re willing to do what you just said, do it cousin, but quickly, quickly. You know how we women are: curiosity drives us to sin 23. This phrase can be read as Caro’s critique of the institution of marriage, which strips women of their freedom (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 92). Rosaura’s description of herself as a potential vassal implies a contradiction between the domestic order, in which a wife would normally be her husband’s vassal, and the political order, in which Rosaura enjoys queenship over her vassals.

Count Partinuplés 109 in extraordinary ways for an ordinary thing. So work your wonders right away, sound the call to these your spirits: I’m dying to see them.

You’ll see them shortly. Wait a moment.

With all my heart!

ALDORA

ROSAURA

ALDORA Unhappy spirits who dwell within that fearful kingdom of pitch-black flame, I conjure and I compel you: at once appear and take the forms of these sublime and lofty princes. From the land of Poland … Frederick! From the land of Transylvania … Robert! From the land of Scotland … Edward! And, at last, from France … Partinuplés!24 Are these enough?

Yes, cousin. I stand amazed.

ROSAURA

ALDORA Come to us, spirits. Appear before our eyes this instant! (Stage effect, and the four men are discovered as named.25) 24. Aldora’s witchcraft here is not heresy because “she does not ‘beg’ or ask for anything, as her relationship to the demons is neither of prayer nor adoration” (Julio Caro Baroja, quoted in Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 93). 25. The first of many stage tricks, typical of a comedia de apariencias (play of appearances). The stage direction “vuélvese el teatro” is ambiguous in terms of what it specifically might have indicated, but nevertheless signals some effect that transforms the stage and helps “discover” the tableau of the four suitors. This may have involved drawing an upstage curtain, dimming the lights (effected by

110 ANA CARO MALLÉN

Heaven help me, what do I see? Who is that one, fair Aldora?

ROSAURA

ALDORA That gallant fellow you’re looking at, gazing through a looking glass that transcribes his body’s sleek perfection, is Frederick the Pole. (continuing to indicate each one) That one reading, rapt in study, is Edward of Scotland: astrologer and philosopher, he is brilliant, learned and wise. That one there whose dashing breast is fortified with wicked steel is valiant Robert of Transylvania. And that one basking in utter rapture in the gorgeous rays of a portrait is the famed Partinuplés, noble heir to all of France; he’s nephew to the King himself, who’s arranged for him to wed Lisbella, his own cousin. He’s noble, modest, peaceful, and courteous; he’s valiant, smart, and spirited. He’s the one among these men most worthy to become your lord, were he not already, as I’ve just said, engaged to wed Lisbella. ROSAURA Lisbella? That’s why, Aldora, that’s why my heart inclines to that man already.

lowering cylinders via pulleys, over chandeliers), rolling in a platform, and/or rotating a group of scenic pyramids, known as periaktoi. Ultimately, the mechanics of what Caro envisions here cannot be determined. This moment, like others, clarifies that the work is likely intended for an indoor or private theater, while reflecting the Andalusian vogue for plays requiring stage machinery and visual effects.

Count Partinuplés 111 ALDORA But this obstacle is in your way, cousin. ROSAURA

And if it weren’t, oh, Aldora, I would certainly prefer another; yes, I would likely be inclined to match my greatness to another man, but seeing he’s taken away from me, how can I, in envy or desire, not strive for the impossible even were he less graced than the rest?

(The theater comes back to how it was, and [the revelation is] covered up.) ROSAURA

He goes away, and now my eyes already miss the delightful object of their sight. My heart is left— how to describe it?—in torment and pain from his absence and my jealousy.

I don’t know if I can give the name of love to this madness of yours.

I admit it: call it madness.

ALDORA

ROSAURA

ALDORA Isn’t the Polish one handsome? Isn’t the Scottish one intelligent? And the Transylvanian—isn’t he dashing?26 ROSAURA If the one from Poland already admires his own good graces in a glass, looking so smug, self-satisfied, 26. For Caro’s audiences, these men represent three archetypal qualities of suitors: beauty, wisdom, and bravery. These characters are not present in Caro’s source material (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 96).

112 ANA CARO MALLÉN how can I move him in the least? If the Scotsman’s a philosopher, an astrologer bent on reading stars, who spends his hours perusing tomes, lost in lofty ponderation, when will I ever get a caress? I doubt he’ll ever find the time! As for Robert, if he’s so valiant, who can doubt he’ll fiercely batter the tender walls of my breast, and prove perhaps the monstrous beast who threatens my life and ruins this kingdom? ALDORA Isn’t losing in battle to a beautiful rival the very worst of all these fates?

Cousin, you exaggerate. You know well these tired truths find their exception in the great. I dare to do the difficult, and leave what’s easy to all others.

ROSAURA

ALDORA

Then since you prefer Partinuplés, all that I am, I offer to you. I’ll work my magic so your portrait falls for an instant into his sight so love may start to work its power. Come with me.

ROSAURA I come, Aldora. From this day on, I am, blind Cupid, a humble moth in your sweet fire, you tender infant of tyrannous ways, you childish god of blind desire.

Count Partinuplés 113 (They exit. Offstage, the sound of a hunt, then enter the King of France, Lisbella, Count Partinuplés, Gaulín, and servants, all dressed for the hunt.)27 (Offstage.)28 FIRST SERVANT They’re swiftly racing toward the creek.29 SECOND SERVANT And in that direction go Henrico, Julio, Fabio, and Ludovico. COUNT To the valley, huntsmen! The valley!

What remarkable speed I see! They’re either children of the wind or the very breath of fire.

Take a rest, Your Majesty— enough hunting for today.

Are you feeling tired, Lisbella?

I feel as if I’ve been trailing a star that follows the sun I gaze upon.

I appreciate the double-meaning.30

KING

COUNT

KING

LISBELLA

KING

27. The scene now shifts to France. 28. It is not clear to whom this stage direction specifically refers, or at what point the characters enter the stage. 29. At this line, the Spanish verse shifts to redondillas, the most common verse form in comedias, which has an ABBA rhyme scheme. 30. The “sun” was a common metaphor for a monarch, particularly Felipe IV: Teresa S. Soufas, ed. and introd., El conde Partinuplés, in Women’s Acts: Plays by Women Dramatists of Spain’s Golden

114 ANA CARO MALLÉN Is that “sun” me or your cousin?

You, Your Majesty, since I come alive in your light.

LISBELLA

GAULÍN No big deal. Lovey-dovey utterances, muttered in the presence of the man who aspires to win her— what’s so surprising? It’s not improper.

Speak to her, Partinuplés. You have every right—after all, this lady will soon be your wife.

KING

COUNT What would be the purpose, sir? Words of love would be a waste of breath. She already knows that I am hers. As I see it, there’s no disgrace when a knowing lover holds his tongue. He who freely speaks his love frequently misspeaks his love, and, speaking well of what he’s feeling, feels bad for speaking of his feelings. Thus I, who revere the very sun in whose light I worship Lisbella, speak to her only in silence lest I offend her rare decorum. Why should I give cause for some offense by letting these two lips repeat what these two eyes have clearly said? KING Nephew, you take it to an extreme. Age (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1997), 317. References to this edition will be cited as “Soufas, Conde,” with the corresponding page.

Count Partinuplés 115 LISBELLA And cousin, hearing you so content, I’ll let my mute tongue as well harmonize on this same theme. (Enter two fishermen grappling over a box.)

It’s mine!

FIRST FISHERMAN

SECOND FISHERMAN The lion’s share belongs to me, Pinardo, no question about it. I was the one who pointed it out. FIRST FISHERMAN His Majesty will settle this dispute, he’s right over there. Let’s give it to him.

Fine by me.

What’s this?

SECOND FISHERMAN

KING

FIRST FISHERMAN My lord, this fisherman and I plucked this box from the frothy sea. A ship out there was foundering, about to wreck, and so they tossed it overboard to lighten their load and save their lives, and though we found it and treasure it, we gladly cede it to you, my lord.

God keep you both.

KING

116 ANA CARO MALLÉN (The box is broken open, and a portrait of Rosaura is taken out.31) COUNT

Open it quickly, Let’s see what it is.

Just a portrait.

FIRST FISHERMAN

GAULÍN

Wow!

COUNT

Heaven rained down all its riches on this beauty.

SECOND FISHERMAN A decent treasure we stumbled upon, Pinardo.

Shut up! I’m boiling over with rage.

FIRST FISHERMAN

KING

Impressive drawing!

COUNT By God, what rare and wonderful beauty.

Strike me down but it’s some trick.

A lovely lady.

GAULÍN

LISBELLA

31. Baroque theater frequently focuses on the “poetics of the gaze” and the powerful impact of sight— hence, the importance of portraits like this one in dramaturgical practice (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 100). This stage direction, like many in comedias, indicates action shortly about to happen—in this case, one line down.

Count Partinuplés 117 COUNT

Divine. Who can she be?

Is this attraction or curiosity, Partinuplés?

LISBELLA

COUNT

What a goddess! It could be curiosity. I derive no pleasure or desire from gazing on any one other than you.

LISBELLA To me that sounds like flattery, but, cousin, I dearly wish to believe you. Look, my lord: an “R” and an “A” here on the portrait. I’m puzzled.

Listen to me, please.

GAULÍN

KING

You understand it?

It’s obvious.

GAULÍN

LISBELLA

I’m sure he’s going to say, the “R” is for “royalty,” and the “A” …

… All-powerful over All hearts …32

COUNT

32. Solving riddles like this was a common “intellectual diversion” for the elite (Julián Gallego, quoted in Luna El conde Partinuplés, 101). Frequently, these riddles had a didactic purpose; here, the riddle does not. In any case, Gaulín’s misogynist reading militates against any possible didacticism. In the Spanish, Lisbella and the Count claim the “R” and “A” stand for reina (“queen”) and en las almas reina (“reigning over souls”). Many liberties have been taken to preserve the scheme of the riddle, as with Gaulín’s subsequent alliterative list.

118 ANA CARO MALLÉN

… In Africa or in Asia.

LISBELLA

COUNT My God, the name suits her, I imagine … GAULÍN Will you stop for two instants and hear the shining sentiments of my rare wit?

Tell us.

KING

GAULÍN

The “R” is for ragged, rageful. A rat-like, rasping, railing Ramira or Rafaela, rude and repulsive; a raving, red-rumped, wretched raven, rotting, rotund, and repellant, ready to wrestle until you’re raw. Really, you’d rather kiss a rodent. As for the “A”, it stands for: Avenging Asp.

Your solution is as witty as you are.

KING

GAULÍN Rest Assured, I’m Really Accomplished. LISBELLA The ungrateful Count is making me jealous, as he loses himself in that portrait. COUNT What do I gaze upon, oh heaven above? My senses find themselves vanquished by the unearthly power of these paints. GAULÍN These fishermen hauled in quite a catch.

Count Partinuplés 119 Lisbella might well let them keep it.

From this day forward, Gaulín, Lisbella must know I stand in the shadow of this fair image.

COUNT

GAULÍN Forgive me, but you’re out of your gourd. COUNT What fearsome power! Love, I must cloak this raging fire that sets me burning. LISBELLA This is my reward for loving the Count? And what am I to do about it? Cloak my feelings? Pretend I don’t notice?

Watch the beast!

That voice invites me. Come with me, both of you!

I’m coming.

I follow.

VOICES (off)

KING

LISBELLA

COUNT

KING Keep that portrait where it’s well-protected, and you’ll be rewarded. FIRST FISHERMAN There can be no better reward than knowing that you liked it.

120 ANA CARO MALLÉN (Exit Fishermen, King, and Lisbella.) COUNT Unless the earth itself can hide you,33 you shall not escape my grasp or the long reach of my courage Wait for me, you beast! (Exit Count.)

Don’t wait.

GAULÍN

(Enter the Count chasing a beast dressed in skins. He is poised to attack it when the stage machinery34 reveals Rosaura, as she appears in the portrait.)

Wait, swift monster!

My lord, you’ve lost it— you’ll die.

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT Fear is an infamous thing. This is meant to be, so help me heaven. GAULÍN What a stunning turn of events. My master goes to kill a beast and stumbles on a thing of beauty! What good fortune! The only fortune I ever seem to stumble upon is one who deceives me, four who cheat me, forty who maul me, and four hundred 33. The Spanish verse shifts to romance. 34. In Spanish, tramoya. By the 1630s this was a generic term for any stage apparatus, although at one time it referred specifically to the type of inverted pyramid described in note 25 (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 163). It is not clear what theatrical trick Caro is conjuring; it may involve the discovery space again, which has already been established as the locus of Aldora’s enchantments.

Count Partinuplés 121 who are ready to defraud me. I guess it’s all a matter of courage; I need to get my courage up and go out and seek my fortune, though instead of a pretty lass, I’m bound to end up with a hissing viper; instead of a sack full of gold I’ll get the sackcloth of a friar.35 But look over there! I’ll be blasted! My master’s rapt, in ecstasy! He’s ready to yell “Resurrexit”;36 he’s seen the light, like a wide-eyed Jew.37 I’d like to see what comes of this suspended tension and confusion. Now he wants to speak to it. COUNT When you were a beast, I pursued you,38 you woman, monster, or deity, and knowing nothing of your cruelty, I risked little to subdue you, but now I see how little I knew you. Yes, I discover greater danger as this pursuit grows ever stranger. Freely, I fall prey to your beauty, and now I’m trapped inside the duty of worshipping a fearsome angel. Your beauty and your cunning coax me to pursue a lady cloaked in deception, to hunt a savage beyond perception, to chase a creature that provokes me, and fulfill this desire that chokes me. As a cruel beast you offer breath to me, 35. Friars were synonymous with poverty and misery. 36. “He is risen,” a reference to Christ’s resurrection—or, in this case, Rosaura’s sudden appearance or “rising” from the stage machinery, a literal deus ex machina. 37. A reference to the conversion of St. Paul on the road to Damascus. Gaulín is of course being sarcastic in comparing the Count’s rapture at seeing Rosaura with Paul’s famous epiphany. 38. The Spanish verse shifts to quintillas, five-line rhyming stanzas. The rhyme scheme in the translation mirrors that of the original to highlight this speech’s “set piece” quality; some liberties have been taken to preserve the rhyme.

122 ANA CARO MALLÉN as a kind beauty, you beckon death to me. Are you the goddess of these mountains? Are you the nymph who rules these fountains? Can you reveal the secret path to me that leads to that celestial sphere made radiant by your miraculous dawn? I die in your footsteps, and I am reborn. Beautiful riddle, monstrous prayer, where do you dwell? I shall follow you there. ROSAURA If you search, then you shall find me. (Rosaura disappears.) COUNT With all my heart I go to find you.39 Why do you deny my eyes this pleasure, you bewitching beauty, you lovely adder?

Help me Christ, they’ve given my master the luck of a Tuesday.40

GAULÍN

COUNT

Why do you hide, mocking my faith and constancy? “If you search, then you shall find me.” That’s what you said. But when I go to search for you, you besmirch me, treating all my loving hopes lightly. What am I supposed to do, oh heaven? Give me an answer or let me die.

(Exit Count.) 39. The Spanish verse shifts to romance. 40. Tuesday is considered an unlucky day in Spain. In addition to its connection with Mars, the god of war, Tuesday was the day on which Constantinople fell not once but twice (to the armies of the Fourth Crusade, then to the Ottoman Turks).

Count Partinuplés 123 GAULÍN As long as he’s sighing into the air, I might as well take my chances too, and give a try at being like him. By the hand of God, let’s defeat the difficulties caused by fear! May I somehow catch some courage— anything’s possible. Daring men get rewarded with an entire brothel. I’m keen to see what’s my reward. Let’s take a look … nothing this way … (He searches the stage. Enter the Count.) COUNT These green myrtles were carpet to her tread, and the forest around her, her plumage. God help me, I’m losing my mind! GAULÍN Now we’re really in the woods! But through those two willows there, I spy the shadow of a sun, framed by golden little clouds. (Aldora appears on the other side of the stage, among some trees.) GAULÍN God help me, but I’ve found the rainbow, and heaven rains glory on my head. This is like drawing four-of-a-kind,41 this is the pearl without the shell, this is the almond without the husk of ferocity and deception. The girl is just like an angel— the most beautiful animal in the world!

Here’s where I first lost my treasure,

COUNT

41. The first of many comic references by Gaulín to card games.

124 ANA CARO MALLÉN and here’s where I will find it again. Forests, thickets, groves, and meadows; streams, rivers, valleys, mountains; birds and beasts of this forest— tell me, where did my lovely one go? (Exit Count.)

Whoa there, Orlando furioso!42— well, to each his own, I guess.43 But first, my little queen of hearts, bless me with a winning hand.

GAULÍN

(He goes to grab her, and she flies away.44 A lion enters, grabbing Gaulín. Enter the Count.)

Where to now?

God help me since my master won’t!

What’s this?

Oh, take your time.

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN

(He [Count] goes to strike the lion, and it disappears.) COUNT Come back, fierce lion! Its fearful form vanished in an instant. 42. The epic Renaissance poem by Ludovico Ariosto, which provided the archetype of the lovesick knight driven to madness by unrequited love (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 110). Bacchus quotes from it in the Second Interlude to Part One of Enríquez’s Tragicomedy of the Sheban Gardens and Fields. 43. Cada loco con su tema: well-known proverb—literally, “Each crazy man with his own topic.” 44. Stage machinery would have included a rigging system for the effect of flying.

Count Partinuplés 125 GAULÍN God help me! It seems I’ve gone from ripe to rotten. Check out, sir, if it wounded me. It looks like my myrtle groves are flooding, and their aroma’s not too sweet.45

You’re not wounded. Calm down.

Really?

Would I lie to you?

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN No, but it could be your eyes are deceiving you: my nostrils always smell the truth. I cross myself a thousand times. What land of Barabbases46 is this, brimming with beasts and wild things that beat and abuse us?

I’m mystified.

I’m petrified.

COUNT

GAULÍN

(Sounds of thunder.)47

Do you hear that thunder?

GAULÍN

45. The incontinent gracioso, prone to scatological self-commentary, is a common comedia trope. 46. Jewish prisoner in the New Testament who was freed in place of Jesus. Here, he represents an evil or untrustworthy person (Soufas, Conde, 317). 47. This is one of a number of stage directions whose placement has been slightly altered so as to fall at the most sensible place in the text.

126 ANA CARO MALLÉN Now we’re finished. Did we somehow wander into the groves of Thessaly?48 Is she deceitful Circe49 herself? Let’s call it a day for our little outing and hit the road. Look at the sky— filling up with clouds and vapor. COUNT

How can I leave this place behind when it means leaving behind my soul?

GAULÍN Leave it already and let’s get going— and don’t let her anywhere near your soul. As for our miserable bodies, let’s go and find them lodging; I’m sure your uncle and lovely bride are going out of their lovely minds searching for you, the way you left them like that. Heavenly angels—lightning! Santa Prisca, Santa Barbara, San Angel, get us the holy hell out of here!50

And where will you hide from this raging storm?

COUNT

GAULÍN From the storm? Nowhere. The sky’s always the same no matter where you run away to. I’m talking about getting you away 48. Greek region reputed, in the classical world, to be full of witches (Soufas, Conde, 317). 49. Legendary witch who transformed Odysseus’s men into pigs. The reference is consistent with Gaulín’s misogynistic worldview. 50. St. Barbara, patron saint of fireworks, was invoked as protection against lightning. St. Angel may be Angelus of Borgo San Sepulcro, a thirteenth-century friar and wonderworker; Santa Prisca was an obscure first-century martyr. Their connection to the moment is unclear: Gaulín may just be spouting off names in confusion (Soufas, Conde, 317–18). The saints’ names here and throughout have been left in the Spanish, as have the characters’ names (with the exception of the foreign princes).

Count Partinuplés 127 from the beasts that roam these mountains. But look at what’s winking at us over there—some kind of boat that’s been run aground in the storm. Though it doesn’t have a mast or sails with which to navigate, it may give us shelter tonight from—may I repeat?—wild beasts.51 COUNT All your fears make me lose my way. GAULÍN The sooner you lose it, the sooner we win.

Then let’s go see what I can win.

Come here. Let me grab onto you.

Beautiful beast, though now I go, I’ll soon be back to search for you.

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

ACT TWO (Enter the Count and Gaulín.) COUNT What a voyage! If it hadn’t happened52 to me, I wouldn’t believe it.

51. Ghost ships frequently appeared in chivalric novels; Cervantes parodies them in Book II, Chapter 29 of Don Quijote (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 113). 52. Act Two opens in redondillas. The scene is an indeterminate space in the vicinity of Rosaura’s magic castle, as the dialogue makes clear. The Count’s opening reflects Caro’s characteristic playful metatheatricality.

128 ANA CARO MALLÉN GAULÍN Believe it. The strangest part, after that storm, was that ship showing up, no pilot, no Palinurus,53 to steer her, no breeze or current to speed us, and it calmly brings us to this balmy shore. What could be more believable, please?

She went away!

It’s either a miracle or just a garden-variety adventure.

What extraordinary beauty!

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN What are you wondering about, sir?

I must be losing my mind.

He’s going goo-goo ga-ga.

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT Amazing portrait! Ravishing woman! GAULÍN Sir, your judgment has hit the rocks. Don’t you see, that reptile lady has got you bit just like a snake? I’m sure it was some evil spirit.

I compare her to an angel, Gaulín.

COUNT

53. The pilot of Aeneas’s ship in the Aeneid, put to sleep by a spell while guiding the vessel back from Troy (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 115).

Count Partinuplés 129 GAULÍN In that case, I renounce my faith. It’s all over. Call it a day. Don’t you see it was witchcraft? A beast suddenly becoming a woman? (Granted, that’s not much of a change.) Only the Devil could have done it. We board a ship without a mast, and it gets rigged up in a minute, no trace of who’s guiding the thing, and then it brings us here. I have to ask: who could have done it?

Enough.

COUNT

GAULÍN That’s your reply? We’re caught in her net, tangled up in her tortuous plot, tied up with portraits, beasts, ladies, and ships into an unholy knot.

Quiet, you drunkard.

Now that you say it, I’m dying of thirst. And my belly is rumbling with hunger.

Now’s no time for eating, Gaulín.

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN It would be a holy blessing if we stumbled upon a hearth. But God help me, over there, no doubt about it—smoke is rising!

130 ANA CARO MALLÉN COUNT

Are you crazy?

GAULÍN

Absolutely not.

COUNT

You amaze me.

GAULÍN

You’ll die when you see it: a beautiful castle.

Wait a moment. You’re right. I must approach it.

COUNT

(The Count looks at where a castle is scene-painted.54) GAULÍN Here we jump into the abyss. I’ll follow him straight into hell, unafraid, for, as they say, if you stick your hand in the medicine jar, you’re going to get some treatment.

Go in.

COUNT

GAULÍN I would if I could, but that wise counselor, fear, stops my heart. Wait: he went inside! (They go into the castle. Enter Aldora and Rosaura.)

54. Caro’s call for scene-painting reflects the evolution of the comedia toward the beginnings of representational scenography, in keeping with the more visually oriented theatrics of the comedia de apariencias and as described in notes 25 and 34 above.

Count Partinuplés 131 ALDORA You’ve got him in your castle, cousin. What are you going to do now? ROSAURA Wish me well for this great fortune. ALDORA And tomorrow you’ll give audience to the other princes? ROSAURA Yes, I will, though their efforts will be in vain: I must love only Partinuplés.

Here he comes.

ALDORA (looking at the door to the right)

ROSAURA

He mustn’t see us.

ALDORA That would be a mistake. Now come. (They exit, and enter the Count and Gaulín, trembling.) GAULÍN They say, have heart, it’s all a matter of luck and fate, but my spirit seems to suddenly go away when I recall that lion’s face.

A well-appointed residence, Gaulín, most richly adorned.

COUNT (looking at the walls)

132 ANA CARO MALLÉN

Yes, and not a soul in sight in receiving room or courtyard or banquet hall or kitchen. In the entire peaceful premises there’s not a piece of anything remotely edible.

You’re hungry?

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN Oh, haven’t you noticed? Hunger is a powerful nemesis. My body isn’t heaven-sent like yours, sir. But look over there— (A sumptuous table is taken out, without it being seen who put it there, with many things on it, as well as a chair along the backdrop.55) GAULÍN —a table and chairs! No sign or sound of anyone putting them there. Now this is tremendous fortune we’re fated for. COUNT

These things, Gaulín, surpass all reason or explanation, and all point to a single end. I look on all these happenings and I wonder what they all can mean for my heart.

GAULÍN The best solution is to sit and eat. Everything’s clearly pointing that way. For Christ’s sake, let’s show the host appreciation 55. The magic supper is another classic element of chivalric fiction (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 119).

Count Partinuplés 133 for all his hospitality before he gets upset with us.

I don’t understand these portents.

On my mother’s grave, let’s eat!

If only my heart weren’t so brave!

Don’t be rude. Dinner’s waiting!

Not to want to seem ungrateful, I’d like to show appreciation, but by God—

I’m on the verge of eating that dish with my eyes.

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT To accept presents without the presence of the donor—

Stop that thinking.

I’m losing my mind.

Sit down.

I’m sitting.

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

134 ANA CARO MALLÉN (They sit, and the cloth covering the food gets pulled from within the table.) GAULÍN If this isn’t the work of the devil? Must I suffer like San Pablo because he thinks he’s San Onofre?56 (Guitars play offstage.)

Now they’re serenading you like you’re the lord of the castle.

GAULÍN

COUNT

Let me listen.

The sweetest music to my ears would be: “Let’s eat.”

GAULÍN

(Singing, and the Count eats the dishes that are served him from under the table.) COUNT Sweet deception, where can you be? I’m blind and cannot find the place where my love is hiding from me. SINGERS If you search, then you shall find me. COUNT If you search, then you shall find me. That end of that lyric pierces my heart.

56. Pablo: could be the apostle Paul, “well-known as the sufferer of many dangers such as shipwrecks, imprisonments, floggings, and banishment.” Could also be Saint Paul of Thebes, a third-century monastic considered to be the first Christian hermit; his life story was recounted by St. Jerome. St. Onofre (Onuphrius or Humphrey) was one of the next generation of Desert Fathers: an Egyptian hermit whose asceticism reflects the Count’s lack of interest in food here (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 318).

Count Partinuplés 135

Attention. They’re singing to you.

GAULÍN

SINGER (solo)

If your heart’s in trepidation57 as it bears the lovely stigma of unspooling an enigma, know, in the darkest situation, courage is your lone salvation: accept the test, and it shall guide thee:

SINGERS If you search, then you shall find me.”58 COUNT (eating throughout the following) They’re speaking straight to my heart. Gaulín, this is your glorious day.

If this is paradise, then let me stuff my face!

GAULÍN

COUNT

Eat this, for God’s sake. We’re permitted since no one’s watching.

(He passes Gaulín a plate to the corner of the table.) GAULÍN God bless you, sir, that was the prize I’d laid my eyes on! 57. The seven-line song breaks out of the redondillas around it into its own rhyme scheme, which is followed in the translation since it functions as a stand-alone set piece. 58. Golden Age plays commonly had live musical accompaniment, and often songs. Rosaura’s use of music here underscores her intention to make the Count fall in love through the ear (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 121). The intention is equivocal, though, in that she has originally been smitten through Aldora’s purely visual representation, and indeed uses the visual lure of the magic portrait to initially snare the Count.

136 ANA CARO MALLÉN (As Gaulín takes the platter and opens it, four or six living birds fly out of it.) GAULÍN

What’s this? Some sort of pointless joke? First I see an empanada, then it flies away, and I’ve got “nada.”

What’s that?

As you can see, nothing. Those hasty quills forgot to write the story of my luscious meal: they flew right to their conclusion.

A toast.

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

(The Count drinks. As he passes the glass to Gaulín, it is taken out of his hand.)

Salutem et Pacem.59 Though I can’t exactly trust them, I’m still happy to toast them.

GAULÍN

(Gaulín’s drink is taken away.)

What was that?

COUNT

GAULÍN What else but my bad luck pursuing me, undoing me, disheveling me, bedeviling me? Am I left-handed? Am I a hunchback? Why are they doing this to me? 59. Latin toast: “Health and peace” (Soufas, Conde, 318).

Count Partinuplés 137

Come over on my side of the table, eat this dish.

COUNT

(Gaulín goes over to the other side.) We’re both guests here. Perhaps this side is more reliable. (As Gaulín starts to eat the dish the Count has set aside for him, it is taken out of his hands.)

The service here is inhumane! If I could see you, vicious waiter— so help me God!

Be quiet and cheer up.

The devil take my mother-in-law! Am I some Christian chameleon?60 Is this why they brought us here? Cursed be our coming, amen!

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN

(The singing starts again.)

They’re singing? Listen.

You listen. You’re the one who’s already eaten.

COUNT

GAULÍN

A VOICE Torrents of tears—I have wept them.61 The saddest of eyes—I have dried them. 60. That is, dissembling cheerfulness. 61. For the redondilla stanza embodied by this song, the ABBA rhyme scheme has been maintained.

138 ANA CARO MALLÉN Whether you weep them or whether you hide them, the pain is the same: you must accept them. COUNT Those words give me hope. I’m going to search! GAULÍN And I’m going to search—for this prize! (Gaulín reaches for a dish, and his hand is grabbed and held back.) GAULÍN Why, oh why, do you hurt me this way? What have I ever done to you? Are you man or woman … or Satan? (They let him go. The Count gets up, and the table is put away.)

You’re done eating?

I’ve had enough.

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN I hope you enjoyed it in good health. You’re done eating and this poor man’s fasting!62 COUNT Wondrous things are happening to me! GAULÍN God help me, I’m a starving mess! Night has fallen, and we’re shut up inside this castle … or trap. We have no light, no bed, I’m losing my mind. What’s more, it seems to get dark here faster than I’ve ever seen. 62. The Spanish verse shifts to romance.

Count Partinuplés 139

Don’t weaken.

COUNT

GAULÍN That’s comforting. What great phlegm!63 We’re locked up here, can’t see a thing, not a clue as to where we are— this is some enchantment or witchcraft of the devil, or at the very least we’re in the company of enemies of the faith.

If it’s the devil’s work, then resist it.

COUNT

GAULÍN Resist it? How? I’m not in the mood for fighting back, my belly’s empty, and that’s that. God help me! (Enter Rosaura in the dark; she slips while entering.64)

I slipped! God be with me!

ROSAURA

GAULÍN Did you hear that? Not so bad after all. Somebody said “God.”

I heard it. Who goes there?

COUNT (fearful)

63. Early modern beliefs about the relationship between physiology and personality categorized people according to their “humors.” “Phlegm” was the cold, moist humor, manifested in people who were damp and chilly; these individuals tended toward patience and were rarely moved to emotion. 64. A dama stumbling—sometimes opportunely into the arms of her galán—is a common comedia device (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 125). Here, it also presages Rosaura’s imminent “fall” from virginity.

140 ANA CARO MALLÉN

Who’s speaking?

A man.

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA Why do you dare profane the peace of my palace?

Opportunity.

Opportunity for what?

I don’t know, so help me God.

Who brought you here?

I don’t know.

And what do you seek?

A labyrinth.

COUNT

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA And do you wish to leave this labyrinth? COUNT Yes, if you give me light and thread.65 65. In mythology, Ariadne gave her beloved Theseus a thread so that he could find his way out of the Cretan labyrinth. The references to light underscore the fact that Rosaura, shrouded in darkness, has kept herself invisible to the Count.

Count Partinuplés 141

Compose yourself, Count.

God help me! Who told you who I am?

One who knows.

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA

COUNT Enough. I beg you: tell me who you are.

I am a woman who loves you.

I value your favor.

We’ll see what it’s worth.

I only hope you’ll repay it.

ROSAURA

COUNT

GAULÍN

ROSAURA

COUNT If that’s your hope, don’t darken this gift by hiding yourself from me.

I must stay hidden for a while.

You punish me.

It’s as it must be.

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA

COUNT Oh, what cruelty! Do you really love me?

142 ANA CARO MALLÉN

I adore you.

Then what are you scared of?

I’m scared of you.

Are you not worthy of my love?66

I’m more than worthy.

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA

COUNT Then why, when you have me in your power and heard me give my word of honor, do you deny your beauty to me, depriving my finest sense the immense pleasure of perceiving its gorgeous object? ROSAURA Let’s not rehearse syllogisms. I admit, sight may be the noblest, quickest, and sharpest of our senses, but I seek to refine the gold of your faith by letting the ear bear witness first, securing my good fortune through a mysterious decorum.67 What’s more, you have seen me before, and I looked quite good to you then.

66. That is, since he is a Count, is she not of a fitting social class? The audience, of course, knows she is more than worthy. This entire exchange between Rosaura and the Count is imbued with the codes of courtly love. 67. The Baroque period had an obsessive interest in the relative power of the senses—primarily, sight and hearing, which were recognized as the two most important (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 128).

Count Partinuplés 143

I did? When?

COUNT

ROSAURA

I mustn’t say. The time will come when you shall know who I am, and how I respect you.

GAULÍN What guile! She’s lured the bird into her cage.

So you won’t let me see you?

I cannot.

What strange whimsy!

Believe in me, Count, and love me, for love is blind.

COUNT

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA

COUNT

A blind child who, in his essence, nourishes two requited souls that have the power to see each other.

You must simply believe in me, just as I simply must love you.

Don’t oblige me.

Count, I must. Now rest. Your bed awaits you.

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA

144 ANA CARO MALLÉN COUNT

Bed is no rest for a man whose mind is wild and restless.

ROSAURA I need you to be wide awake for I have important plans for you. COUNT If I’m lucky enough to serve you that way, I will rest content.

Go in, lie down. A torch shall guide you. Follow it, follow it.

ROSAURA

COUNT

Wait, hear me out.

I cannot. Goodbye.

ROSAURA

(Exit Rosaura.)

Did you hear what’s happening to me, Gaulín?

Yes, and I’m shaking up and down.

Who can that woman be?

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN A witch, a monster, a crocodile, the way she lurks and hides herself! There’s the taper. I’m clinging to you as we go.

Count Partinuplés 145

That light is my north star.

May it be my midnight sun!

COUNT

GAULÍN

(The candle enters through one door and leaves by the other. The Count follows it.68 Before Gaulín can exit, Aldora grabs him.)

Where are you going?

ALDORA

GAULÍN San Patricio!69 Wherever Your Ladyship commands! I was following a certain friend who was offered hospitality by an angel sent from heaven, but if your Ladyship has other plans— (aside) oh, the many virtues of vice, if I only weren’t so terrified— (to Aldora) I’m happy to stay at your side.

By an angel sent from heaven?

Yes, my lady.

ALDORA

GAULÍN

68. What occurs here is deliberately left vague by Caro, but a close reading of the play, combined with knowledge of the more unabashed novel on which it is based, suggests that Rosaura consummates her relationship with the Count behind these close doors, granting him “favors” without permitting him to see her. Aldora, it seems, also grants similar favors to Gaulín. The two doors in the stage direction are the pair of upstage doors in Spanish theaters routinely used for exits and entrances. 69. Saint Patrick is traditionally believed to have banished snakes from Ireland. Gaulín may be calling upon him here as protection against the sorcery of a supernatural woman; as he has previously asked the Count, “Don’t you see, that reptile lady has got you bit just like a snake?” And the Count himself calls Rosaura a “bewitching beauty, [a] lovely adder.”

146 ANA CARO MALLÉN

Have you seen her?

No, my lady.

Do you always spout nonsense?

What did I say?

Nothing. Just ragged, rageful, rasping, repellant, rotting, repulsive.

Regrettable.

You would rather kiss a rodent.

Rescue me, San Remigio!70

Wasn’t that what you said?

I can’t recall. But if I said it, I’m remorseful. I’m a rogue, a roach, a radish.

ALDORA

GAULÍN

ALDORA

GAULÍN

ALDORA

GAULÍN

ALDORA

GAULÍN

ALDORA

GAULÍN

70. Possible reference to obscure eighth-century saint, who was bishop of Rouen (Soufas, Conde, 318). This could also be a reference to the more famous Saint Remigius (ca. 440–535), who was bishop of Reims. He baptized Clovis, King of the Franks, in 496; Clovis’s conversion from paganism to the faith of his subjects in Gaul ensured their loyalty and brought about much-needed political stability in the region.The choice here seems to be for the “R” rather than the achievements of this particular saint. In the dialogue that follows, some liberties have been taken to preserve the word play on “R.”

Count Partinuplés 147

That’s much better.

And your slave.

ALDORA

GAULÍN

ALDORA Then come with me. For all your “R’s,” I have a reward.

I’m ready to roll.71

GAULÍN

(They exit.) (Enter Emilio and Robert of Transylvania.72) ROBERT Today Rosaura gives us an audience73 in this love-joust among the nations. I must be first to try my fortune for to speak of love is to speak of impatience. EMILIO It’s not a matter of which man goes first. It’s certain when all is said and done, the best among us will win the prize. ROBERT I won’t presume to be the chosen one. (Enter Frederick of Poland.) 71. The Spanish has an additional two lines in which Gaulín invokes late-night lightning and turbulence, with more word play on “R.” In place of a literal translation, the pithier, punchier “I’m ready to roll” ends the scene. 72. The scene changes to Rosaura’s court in Constantinople, imaginably the same locus as the opening scene of the play. According to the previous dialogue, we are in the day subsequent to the previous scene. 73. The Spanish verse form used in most of this scene (the silva) is associated with formal, courtly, and cultured discourse, both on stage and in literature (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 133). The translation here, accordingly, highlights this quality.

148 ANA CARO MALLÉN FREDERICK If only she favored me! How I love her! (Enter Edward of Scotland.) EDWARD Today, in love’s court, we plead our case.

How goes it, Robert?

I’m ready for fortune, ready to join you in this race, ready to go in dangerous pursuit of love’s uncertain victory.

FREDERICK

ROBERT

FREDERICK If it comes down to who is worthiest, I can’t say she will look to me. ROBERT If my force can force the hand of fate, I will forcefully win the day, and she’ll be forced to take my hand unless some god should take her away. (Enter Emilio.)

Gentlemen. Her Highness.

EMILIO

(Enter Rosaura, Aldora and their retinue.)

What majesty!

What unearthly elegance!

FREDERICK

EDWARD

Count Partinuplés 149 ROBERT What great beauty! What radiant power! EMILIO Great lady, greet each heroic prince. ROSAURA Aldora, their efforts will be in vain. EMILIO The Scotsman, Transylvanian, and the Pole. ALDORA Don’t overlook such a gallant show. ROSAURA Your lordships are welcome, one and all.

Whoever lays his eyes on you is in a constant state of welcome.

ROBERT

ROSAURA I accept this courtly flattery. Be seated so we can get to the outcome. (After the Princess is seated, the others take their seats; each says his lines so as to place her in the middle.)

I am always at your command.

I am your slave.

I shall obey.

My reputation, lofty princes,

EDWARD

ROBERT

FREDERICK

ROSAURA

150 ANA CARO MALLÉN surely beckons you here today, for reputation is a cornet whether it sounds the call to beauty for those who seek to make a marriage, or merely blares a call to dowry. Now I must probe your intentions, and so I’ll forgive any digression. Whether you’re here for love or convenience, the audience is now in session. Speak.

What courage!

What prudence!

You speak, Frederick.

ROBERT

EDWARD

ROBERT

FREDERICK I didn’t reply, not wanting to waste your time. (getting up and bowing) Lovely Rosaura, I am heir to the fertile lands that lie in the abundant fields of Poland. I shall not ply you with gold and silver, though my father, good King Sigmund, is the richest man the whole world over: yes, he possesses enormous treasure. But true riches, in my estimation, come from living in peace and joy, well-beloved by every nation, and obeyed in one’s own kingdom. I am Frederick, and all that I own is yours, though I’m unworthy to bask in the radiance of your glorious throne. To be enshrined in your memory is the only fortune that I seek, and all the world’s riches mean but little

Count Partinuplés 151 in this enterprise I undertake.

My name is Edward,

EDWARD

(getting up and bowing) Scotland, my kingdom, bathed by the pearls of the crystalline Tay; part of Great Britain and not far from Ireland, our gallant kingdom proudly serves Spain and thus gladly shares in that empire’s power, its virtue, its strength, and nobility. My kingdom’s not large, but it’s blessed with riches, the fairest of landscapes, and fertility. I offer it all to Your Highness—it’s yours. It’s a small token, but filled with affection. May it equal my sincere desires, which I hope may be worthy of your selection. ROBERT Fair empress, I am that prodigy74 known to Europe as Hercules the Strong, proclaimed by Asia, the Invincible Mars. My feats will forever be impressed upon the memory of Spain. Eyes and ears, quills and tongues, shall immortalize my fame, with stories taking winged flight to blaze my name across the earth. Robert of Transylvania am I. My kingdom contains four domains, each of them each magnificent. One is Valaquia—that is, Moldavia; another, Serbia; the third, Bulgaria. The fourth, of course, is Transylvania. These four kingdoms in their splendor comprise the glorious Dacian empire, and I am heir to all of them, my most beautiful Rosaura. I am son of Ladislao and Aurora of Sicily, 74. The Spanish verse shifts to romance for Robert’s speech.

152 ANA CARO MALLÉN but I am prouder of my penchant for going into blazing battle than for all these royal blazons that proclaim my great descendant. Into the pitch of armored battle seventeen times I have ventured, nary a thought to freezing winter or the burning rays of summer. Yes, I’ve braved ice and I’ve faced fire, Africa trembles at my name, Germany knows my terrific force, Dalmatia shivers before my spirit, Spain reveres my awesome courage. Please forgive me if I bore you by this singing of my praises, but it’s not boorish when one lacks a go-between to sing them for you. Thus I offer, divine Rosaura, this great empire to your beauty: it surrenders to you freely, and its glories submit to you in rightful homage to a goddess who sovereignly deserves tribute. ROSAURA

Valiant princes, I greatly value the generous words with which I’m prized: to be the object of such affection moves me, your motives crystallized. Had I three hearts to give away, I’d offer them all as just reward for putting me in obligation and earning your place as rightful lord. I have but one heart, and one empire too, so to my counselors, I leave the choice. They can gauge the situation, weigh your offers, and be my voice. I trust you each will understand why this decision cannot be faster; be patient, and in a little time 75

75. The Spanish verse shifts back to silvas.

Count Partinuplés 153 you’ll see which man shall be my master. (They all rise.) ROBERT

I am content.

EDWARD

Absolute genius!

FREDERICK

Heavenly wisdom!

I accept what you say.

EDWARD

ROSAURA If you all agree, you shall not be detained. (They accompany her to the door, continuing to gesture.) ROBERT Just give the word and we shall obey. (The Princess exits through one door, and the suitors through another.) (Enter the Count and Gaulín.76)

What are you saying?

COUNT 77

I said I heard what I just told you.

Constantinople?

GAULÍN

COUNT

76. The scene shifts back to the magic castle. 77. The Spanish verse shifts to redondillas. Note how the Count and Gaulín tend to speak in redondillas when they are together.

154 ANA CARO MALLÉN

That was it.

Constantinople, you say?

Yes.

You’re not imagining it?

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN Why would I be imagining things? I’m well-fed, well-rested, and not paying the landlord for room and board. COUNT You’re sharing my good fortune, Gaulín. GAULÍN You bet. My stomach has finally been restored to Epicurean renown, and my guts are reveling in Heliogabalian glory.78 God knows who cooks and serves it up but it sure is good when gobbled down. May God protect the sweet marquesa who, invisible, sets the mesa every night since we’ve arrived. Yes, this lady of the evening gives us service at her expense. But putting all this food aside, I’ve been meaning to ask you— I’m not sure if someone’s spying, upon the word of this convent— how are you doing?

78. Epicurus: ancient Greek philosopher whose moral teachings came to be associated with selfindulgence. Heliogabalus: Roman emperor noted for gluttony (Soufas, Conde, 318).

Count Partinuplés 155

Quite content.

COUNT COUNT

Have you seen the woman yet?

GAULÍN

COUNT

No.

What are you saying?

GAULÍN

COUNT

What I said.

And why not?

GAULÍN

COUNT

She won’t let me.

So you recite litanies in the dark?

GAULÍN

I follow wherever fortune leads me.

You like her a lot?

I adore her.

Without seeing her?

Without seeing her.

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

156 ANA CARO MALLÉN

What about Lisbella?

With all due respect, there is no Lisbella anymore.

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN And this lady’s both portrait and beast? COUNT I’ve come to believe, Gaulín, that this beautiful woman is one and the same as my beloved beast, and everything that’s happened to us— that song we heard, the strange events, and a thousand other things— all these signs, I perceive, are her.

Complete and utter ignorance! If she really were beautiful, she wouldn’t hide herself from you.

Whether she’s beautiful or not, I swear that I love her.

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN It’s obvious: you’re head over heels, in the worst way. All right, I grant you, it’s no wonder you’d take that fetching beast as lover, but who can fathom why you feel passion for a ghost, an owl, a whippoorwill, not knowing if she’s a maid or crone, whether she’s lame, has got one eye, or sports a hunch upon her back? Is she skinny? Is she fat? Red like a beet? Or merely ruddy?

Count Partinuplés 157 What demon has possessed her soul? By God, I bet she’s the prettiest pig that ever I saw in my life.

I adore a divine spirit that’s there.79

Divine spirit? Here we go again.

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT Her intelligence is radiant, her genius unique and rare. Due to her graces, my true faith has been so generously repaid that it’s all perfectly clear: there is no greater perfection than her beauty in my imagination, and the lofty qualities of her mind bear witness to what her body’s worth. GAULÍN I reject that assertion, and refute your conclusion. Never are those things the same, nor has such a thing ever been: Smart women are always ugly as sin, and good-looking ones, always fools.80

One perfection must have its twin: she’s as beautiful as she is smart,

COUNT

GAULÍN Nonsense! Forgive me for saying, but you’re looking at her through glasses clouded up with ideals of beauty. 79. The Count opposes his faithful Neoplatonism to Gaulín’s materialistically inclined misogyny (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 141). 80. Popular wisdom had it that ugly women were smart (and beautiful women, stupid).

158 ANA CARO MALLÉN COUNT The heart knows, and the heart testifies to far more than the eye perceives. GAULÍN Now you’ve strayed into senselessness. But it looks like night has fallen. I’ll take refuge in my cloister. COUNT

I hear people.

GAULÍN Of course, it’s getting dark. I’m going to get scourged a thousand times and finally pay for what I’ve said and eaten. COUNT

Quiet, you fool.

GAULÍN

Off I go, terrified. Goodbye! Time for me to get freshened up.

(Exit Gaulín. Enter Rosaura.)

Count?81

ROSAURA

Who calls me?

COUNT

ROSAURA I do. How have you been since last night?

Like a man waiting upon a warrant

COUNT

81. The Spanish verse shifts to romance for rest of Act Two and opening section of Act Three.

Count Partinuplés 159 to grant him death or give him life; like a man who lives only to love you, and who, not seeing you, only dies; a man who hovers between heaven and hell, suffering pain and tasting delight. But none of this is new to you. Seeing the state you see me in, why deprive my eyes of your sight? Do you take my loyalty, my truthful heart, for treacherous lies? If that’s the truth, beloved mistress, then do what you wish, but even if you do me this grave offense, you still oblige me to your love. ROSAURA Count, my friend, my lord and master, I could easily take offense over this show of little faith after all your solemn oaths, after your pledges to abstain from speaking coarsely of these things, after you agreed to await the proper time and proper place for me to reveal myself to you. Because I value you so much, because you’re so much in my debt, I’ll forgive this curiosity,82 fruit of your impatient desire, and ascribe it to the power of love though it seems in you a weakness. I’ve satisfied your fierce complaints, I’ve told you over and over again: I’m yours, and you shall see me soon, and I can’t yet reveal myself whether for pressing matters of state or other powerful motives that limit my freedom and guide my fate. 82. This curiosity will, temporarily at least, be the Count’s undoing, a trait that Luna sees as feminizing him since it parallels him to two women: his mythic counterpart, Psyche, and the original icon of curiosity, Eve (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 143).

160 ANA CARO MALLÉN Let the laws of chivalry rather than the base appetite of a single sense be your guide. The other four owe sight no debt, for after all, it deceives and lies. The other senses are awake, so let sight slumber for a while: if you rouse it, we’d be in danger. This is what matters now, Count: let love grow stronger through these doubts,83 for doubts have never conquered valor. Before you here stands a woman— weaker in courage, weaker in body— and so my trust in your truthfulness and loyalty must be far stronger than yours could ever be in mine.84 Take heed: I’ll tell you a secret, confident that it will lead you triumphantly back to my caresses. France is in the gravest danger. The English have encircled Paris, the site of your uncle’s eminent court, and, understandably, the King has gravely felt your absence; lacking the model of your courage, he struggles to govern his people, who have become demoralized. The occasion brooks no delay: go, Count. Fly to your homeland. Make the enemy tremble in terror. Trample his pride, crush his mettle, and take this as proof of my love: since seeing you is my greatest joy, then making you leave proves I love your honor more than my own pleasure. This is what it means to love. To arms, then, valiant hero! 83. Luna gives this as deudas (debts), but, following Soufas, this has been corrected to dudas (doubts). 84. Rosaura here encapsulates pro-female medieval and Renaissance debate, which argued that women, being naturally weaker than men, therefore had to be stronger in their actions (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 144).

Count Partinuplés 161 Onward, gallant Frenchman, onward! Onward, onward, courageous prince! Dazzle them as you raise your shield, and, brandishing your shining steel, inscribe your name in history and go to claim the greatest laurels. Honor calls you into battle, fame awakes you from your slumber, and triumph itself shall be herald of your glorious rising star. In your breast, courage will work more fearsome wonders than feats of love. So furiously fulfill your duty, show the world just who you are, and I will love you even more when the whole world celebrates the magnificent coming together of my genius and your mettle, and we both boast of our triumphs.

I am trapped between love and fear. I don’t know what’s happening. Is it true, my lady, that France is in clear and present danger?

COUNT (aside)

ROSAURA There’s no doubt, Count. She needs you. COUNT With you to spur me, what do I fear? But how can I get there in time when the danger is so urgent? ROSAURA It’s best if you left your things, Count, to someone who can take care of them. Across the silvery river that encircles this castle, there is a bridge. You’ll find arms there, and a horse,

162 ANA CARO MALLÉN and someone to speed you in an instant. COUNT Must I leave you? What cruel misfortune!

This is all that matters now. There’ll be time for seeing me, if my love still obliges you.

Do with me whatever you will.

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA Do you know how much you owe me?

I’ll be repaying you forever.

COUNT

ROSAURA Do you know my heart goes with you?

I know I’ll die if I don’t see you.

And you’ll be mine?

I am your slave.

And you’ll be true?

True forever.

Will you forget me?

COUNT

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA

Count Partinuplés 163 COUNT

I will never.

ROSAURA And you’ll come back to me with pleasure? COUNT Know that, without you, I cannot live. ROSAURA

Then goodbye.

(Exit Rosaura.)

Goodbye, my lady. If love must bow to obligation, then let me be its best example. In order to keep my honor alive, I must ask for death in battle.

COUNT

ACT THREE (Enter the Count, with Gaulín behind him.85) GAULÍN (off)

Stop! Wait! You cursed Pegasus!86 You Bellerophon from hell! God help me! (Enter Gaulín.) I knew this final blow would sink us for once and all! What a shame: we spoil our triumph, leaving all our glory behind us, to become lousy indigents again, 85. The setting for Act Three is the vicinity of Rosaura’s enchanted castle. The exposition in the beginning of the scene touches briefly on events from Caro’s source not dramatized in the play. 86. Pegasus: a Greek mythological winged horse. Bellerophon: Greek hero who rode Pegasus.

164 ANA CARO MALLÉN begging for scraps of this and that in this holy cathouse.

Oh, Gaulín!

COUNT

GAULÍN Don’t complain, or you’ll call down heaven’s wrath. You wanted this, right? COUNT My will is so broken, so ravished, so subject to that woman’s whim, that even if she hadn’t forced me, as you well know, that even if she hadn’t brought us back this way, my thought would still have taken wings and flown straight to her prison, satisfied and obedient.

No monk could love reclusion as much as you do. I hate to say it, but Lisbella knows about this love. She’s become a raging basilisk. It’s beyond me why you neglect your lovely cousin.

Oh, Gaulín, don’t even speak her name to me. I die for the impossible.

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN Why should your eyes shed a tear for her? We men are fools! With just one trick, one teardrop, one “I’m coming, dear” from a woman, we leap off cliffs. May someone kick them all to pieces! Why do we let them turn our diamonds

Count Partinuplés 165 into mere wax, our strongest steel to little more than crumbling plaster? What on earth would Lisbella say— San Cosme87 save us from her torture!— if she saw us running away?

What’s over there?

What resolve! You’re orbiting your own planet.

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT Fate has arranged it all for us. We’ve made it to the castle by nightfall.

This darkened love affair of yours is like a long Norwegian winter,88 since the very light of your days can only be enjoyed at night.

GAULÍN

COUNT If I only could rid myself of doubt! My heart is blind with passion, and my senses, brimming with pain. GAULÍN Since it’s night now, why hasn’t your demonic angel emerged to offer you her favors?89 She must know you’re here. 87. Likely Saint Cosmas, of the third century. He and his brother, Saint Damian, were physicians martyred in Syria during the persecution of Christians by the Emperor Diocletian. Saints Cosmas and Damian are familiar to Catholics because they are invoked in the Litany of the Saints, as well as in a prayer, the Communicantes, which is part of the Canon of the Catholic Mass. Could also be the twelfth-century bishop, tortured and martyred (Soufas, Conde, 319). 88. The conceit of Norway representing cold, dark nights can be found in the poetry of her contemporary Luis de Góngora (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 151). 89. Favores, generally given by a lady to her suitor, could mean anything from aid and patronage to honor and grace. It could also refer to a ribbon or flower a lady granted her suitor, or the sexual favors

166 ANA CARO MALLÉN But listen. Footsteps. In this hallway.90 Double-clamp those lips, Gaulín! (Enter Rosaura.)

Is that you, my lord?

My lady?

Give me your arms.

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA

(They embrace.)

Sweet prison, I am your happy captive again.

COUNT

ROSAURA Today the flowers in my garden were most radiant with joy. And so I said: “You know my fortune, you perk up with these vivid colors so as to give the Count his welcome.” Then, from a great oak’s branches, came the song of a nightingale, twitting sweetly of love and passion. And hearing its song, I said: “How wonderfully your song heralds the arrival of my fortune.” I heard a mountain stream’s gentle murmur, its crystal waters running free, and hearing it flow so musically, I said: “You foresee my fortune, granted by a prostitute (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 151). The charged ambiguity of the term—courtly, yet slyly suggestive—suits Caro’s designed ambiguity, as does the English “favors.” 90. As in earlier scenes, the stage space is fluid, as the men move almost proto-cinematically from seeing the castle to being inside it.

Count Partinuplés 167 and proclaim it in your glee with your cheerful laughter and the sweetly flattering way you flow.” This was no trick of desire, for heaven has willed that I enjoy my greatest glory, which is seeing you. How goes it with you?

Listen. Like the day that has no sunlight, like the night that has no stars, like a muted, cloudy, dawn: somber, shadowy, sullen. And what about you?

COUNT

ROSAURA Hear me. Like the flowers without raindrops, like the meadows without flowers, like the forests stripped of greenery: anguished, afflicted, uncertain. GAULÍN These landscapes full of hot air! Here I am, the unhappy lackey, who sees where this farce is headed but has no lady to whom to declare lovey-dovey words of passion. The playwright, she’s made a big mistake. May all of you forgive her!91

Sit and tell me about the events of your great victory.

Is my master

ROSAURA

GAULÍN

91. The playwright (La Poeta) is indeed specified as female by Caro in the original.

168 ANA CARO MALLÉN made of bronze?92 (They sit on receiving-hall cushions.93)

Hear me.

I’m listening.

COUNT

ROSAURA

GAULÍN God forgive me, you were better off deaf. COUNT

We left just as you commanded, upon two fleet hippogriffs,94 a pair of shooting stars made flesh. I found Paris under siege, the enemy squadrons jubilant because they were meeting little resistance. Although my uncle, as General, loudly tried to rally his troops, his noble years were answered with little resistance or valor, and so over time he had to submit to the adversary’s invasion. I broke through the enemy’s line, I galloped into their camp, and in the name of the French army, vanquished their chaos with my courage, my valor waking such fear in their heats that in a mere three hours’ time we bid farewell forever to British and Scottish arrogance. My uncle approached me, as did Lisbella,

92. Common expression signifying strength of body and spirit (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 154). Gaulín seems to perceive her invitation for the Count to sit next to her as audacious. 93. Such cushions, an inheritance of the Moorish era, were common in seventeenth-century Spain. 94. Hippogriff: fantastic animal, part horse, part griffin (which in turn was part lion, part eagle). Frequently used by poets to invoke a fast horse.

Count Partinuplés 169 and in seeing me (don’t get upset now), he was joyous, she was amazed … Are you listening? She fell asleep …! I say … Can you hear me, my lady? What an opportunity, Gaulín.

Pass it up and you’re crazy, Count.

GAULÍN

COUNT

God help me, I could finally dispel this endless mystery if I only had some light, though my doing so might upset her … My lady, hello? Are you sleeping?

What on earth are you waiting for? Does she have to start snoring? Do you want her to name a price?95 There’s a light in that hallway. Should I go over and get it?

GAULÍN

(Gaulín gets up.)

Yes, quickly! But no.

Enough of this. She a woman, right? You’re a man. Is she going to kill you?

You’re right. Go and get it.

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

95. The Spanish joke (¿Es bodegonera acaso?—Does she perhaps run a chophouse?) is obscure, but from the context it seems clear that Gaulín is commenting on Rosaura’s lascivious behavior. This line has been translated so as convey the likely thrust of Gaulín’s comment.

170 ANA CARO MALLÉN GAULÍN Be resolved. Let’s solve this riddle once and for all. (Exit Gaulín.)

Oh passion, what folly I follow! Desire spurs us to great things, making us chase pure deception. But if I give in to my own pleasure will I fail my obligation?

COUNT

(Enter Gaulín with a candle.)

Here’s the light.

GAULÍN

COUNT Let’s end it now. Death lurks in my curiosity, but now’s my chance. At this moment, I break my faith. Hand me that candle.

Take it.

Let love conquer fear.

GAULÍN

COUNT

(lighting her) God save me, what great beauty! So perfect, it exceeds all heaven; nature itself could not paint a masterpiece like this one. Do you see our beast of the forest, Gaulín? GAULÍN I’m amazed! What divine perfection!

Count Partinuplés 171 COUNT Rapturous sphinx, my wish is fulfilled.96 I see your face now, but still I ache: you slay me swiftly when you’re awake, yet fast asleep, you slowly kill. A heart in anguish normally will sense when there is danger looming. A star across the heavens zooming portends a time that will be troubled, but now my torment has been doubled, and my anguish is resuming, wondrous creature of rare design: I see two suns in full eclipse! May your darkness soon elapse, may your planets finally align in skies where they can fully shine! And if my deception is exposed, I hope you’ll see there is no malice in bringing light to your dark palace. But now I see how my danger grows: you kill, after all, with eyes that are closed. (He drips wax on her by mistake.97) ROSAURA (half asleep) Continue, Count, continue. Oh God,98 what’s this? Treachery! Betrayal! What have you done, you ingrate?! (She gets up.)

Looks like the little girl’s awake:

GAULÍN

96. The Spanish verse shifts to another quintilla “set piece.” Once again, the rhyme scheme has been maintained, with some liberties taken in the process. 97. This clarifying stage direction is an editorial addition, based upon what takes place at this point in the source novel. 98. The Spanish verse shifts to romance.

172 ANA CARO MALLÉN we’re in for a long, hard night.99

You call yourself a gentleman, double-crossing me this way? Liar! Traitor! Faithless scoundrel! Instead of showing due respect, you dare do this deceitful act, this lewd affront to my honor?

ROSAURA

(Enter Aldora.) ALDORA What’s the matter? Why these voices? What’s this, beautiful Rosaura? ROSAURA Aldora, get rid of this brute; he’s an ingrate, traitor, liar of enormous proportions. The Count must die, even if it rips the noble heart that loves him into a thousand tiny pieces. This is necessary vengeance, even if I drown in my own pain, for now I see it all so clearly, and I’m paying dearly for giving my favors to him. The faithless Count fulfills the unhappy prophecy, so let him die before my kingdom suffers under his oppression. Hurl him from the highest tower! His treachery did grave offense to the name of love.

Grave offense?

ALDORA

99. Gaulín’s line, in the original, is literally “A girl in the house and a bad night ahead,” echoing misogynistic proverbs about the difficulties of raising a daughter. Some liberties have been taken to preserve the impact.

Count Partinuplés 173 Don’t be shocked. After all, he’s French.100 Do they ever keep their word?

Hear me.

COUNT

ROSAURA There’s no explaining such betrayal. GAULÍN By God, my lady, get a hold of yourself. ROSAURA Vile lackey, you dare speak as well? GAULÍN Shiver my timbers! Damn my tongue, amen.

Since you decree this punishment, take note—

Of what?

Of love.

And so?

Remember …

Don’t speak another word.

COUNT

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA

COUNT

ROSAURA

100. Spain entered war with France in 1635, exacerbating long-held anti-French feelings (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 158).

174 ANA CARO MALLÉN

… those wonderful favors.

Brazen man! Quickly, Aldora. His excuses incite my wrath to swift revenge. Get him out of my sight or I’ll scream for all my guards! Hallo!

Santi Petri, ora pro nobis.101

Come with me, Count. Quickly.

Now I fall because I rode upon the chariot of great Phaeton.102

COUNT

ROSAURA

GAULÍN

ALDORA

COUNT

(They exit.) (Enter, to the sound of drums, Lisbella, with sword and hat, and soldiers.103) LISBELLA Heroic soldiers, the moment is now; noble vassals, our time has come: Constantinople must feel your power. Let your ships drop valiant anchor on the sands of Nigroponto.104 This roiling, flowing mountain, this great campaign of mighty pine, this squadron of haughty giants, 101. Latin: “Saint Peter, pray for us” (Soufas, Conde, 319). 102. Phaeton unwisely borrowed the chariot of his father, Apollo, and, in thus seeking to be the sun, brought on his own destruction. The conceit invokes the light, which was the Count’s downfall. 103. The scene changes to the shores of Constantinople, as Lisbella urges her fleet to drop anchor. The Spanish verse shifts in this scene, subtly, from one romance scheme to another. 104. “Nigroponto” is actually a name for the Greek Aegean isle known classically as Euboea—a great distance from Constantinople.

Count Partinuplés 175 this biform prodigy that reigns with hoisted ropes and unfurled sheets— let it embrace the mighty foam that bathes this sparkling crystalline shore. I imagine you well know the motive that inspires my hopes and sends me on this great journey. But let it be known, to one and all, no man is to go ashore, none shall serve or accompany me. Only Fabio and Ludovico may bear witness to my great courage. Now Constantinople shall see, now the wide world shall know how I shall be a Semiramis,105 armed with this, my ardent revenge. And Rosaura as well shall know how I’ll render her great empire an utter ruin if she refuses to surrender my cousin to me. Onward, noble vassals, onward! My uncle, your king, is dead, and so I am now your queen. Show the sharpness of your steel, and if she does not surrender the Count—your king and master— God help me, she’ll see come to know through the bitter pain of battle how my outrage becomes her anguish, and my passion, her delirium: my cruelty will be her misery, and my rage will erase her sins.

We obey you, one and all.

FIRST SOLDIER

SECOND SOLDIER We’ll die with you, one and all. 105. Although Semiramis, Queen of ancient Babylon, was reputed to have many lovers, she is invoked here as a mythical warrior woman (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 160).

176 ANA CARO MALLÉN LISBELLA

Then let us enact our vengeance, let us exact our penalty. Like a bolt of blazing lightning unleashed from the firmament, I shall make them feel my rage long before its sound is heard.

(They exit.) (Enter Gaulín and the Count, half-dressed.106)

Look, my lord, it’s madness to put so little value on your life.

GAULÍN

107

It’s perfectly obvious, Gaulín: any man who lost such beauty would be driven to madness.

If she truly loved you, then she wouldn’t treat you so cruelly: your perception of her love was simply her cruel deception.

You’re right.

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN Cheer up. In spite of it all, you’ve got something great to live for: back in France, Lisbella awaits you.

106. The scene changes to an indeterminate location. In the source novel, this scene takes place back in the woods of France. The important fact is that the Count, though saved from execution, has been cast out of the magical castle. Therefore, Aldora will shortly have to “fly” them back to Constantinople. On stage, in early modern theater, a state of half-dress connoted madness, melancholy, or mental desperation, as the Count’s subsequent interaction with Gaulín bears out. 107. The Spanish verse shifts to redondillas.

Count Partinuplés 177

You’re wrong.

With what fury, what disdain, Rosaura ordered them to kill me— and it all turned out to be a bluff! You’re right.

Don’t show signs of weakness. Build a case for a better love. Make an appeal to Lisbella: she’s more appealing after all.

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT You’re wrong, you brazen low-life, you cur. This is all your fault! Your fault! (The Count goes after him.)

Oh wild beast of Beelzebub, better you were never born! My lord, my lord, for the love of Rosaura, let me go!

GAULÍN

COUNT I lose my life in losing my last chance— I’m a dead man!

You seem alive to me.

Alive?! How can this state be “life”? I feel nothing, I sense nothing. Come here. Closer.

GAULÍN

COUNT

178 ANA CARO MALLÉN

I’m fine right here.

Where is my life?

Lovely. It’s in you. And my memory?

Rosaura knows.

GAULÍN

COUNT

GAULÍN COUNT

GAULÍN

COUNT Oh rapturous flame of love, I’m burning in you, and I’m freezing. (Enter Aldora in a stage effect in which the other two will rise with her across the back of the stage.108)

Count? Oh, Count?

Who calls me?

I do.

ALDORA

COUNT

ALDORA

GAULÍN You? Another one of these stage tricks. We’re doomed.

Did you hear someone talking?

COUNT

108. The Spanish apariencia suggests that Aldora is revealed in the discovery space that has been the locus of her magic; the stage directions indicate that she is elevated, presumably on some type of rope or wire. Spanish theater did have a type of device for elevation effects, known as El Pescante or “The Fisher” (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 163).

Count Partinuplés 179

Count?

ALDORA (in the air, without being seen)

GAULÍN She wants to count your blessings, Count. Where do we hide? Ladies and gentlemen, my time has come at last. I’m trembling with fear. ALDORA

Count?

COUNT

Who are you?

It’s me.

ALDORA (descending to the stage)

COUNT Beautiful lady, my morning star, precursor to that rising sun, that glow of dawn in the eastern sky, is it possible that I see you?

Tell me, why are you in this state?

He who seeks death doesn’t dress in sumptuous attire. But tell me, what brings you here?

Your good fortune.

If that’s true, I’m fortunate indeed.

ALDORA

COUNT

ALDORA

COUNT

180 ANA CARO MALLÉN ALDORA You must compete in a tournament for me.

A just request from your lips: your desire is my duty.

COUNT

ALDORA I posted a challenge on your behalf, declaring that a mysterious prince claimed Rosaura’s hand as his and his alone.

I catch your meaning.

COUNT

ALDORA This challenge said he fully deserved it in courage, mettle, and social position.

That would be me.

COUNT

ALDORA

That is true. The kingdom was outraged at this decree, and so Rosaura found herself obliged to have her three pretenders enter the tournament to defend her. She suspected I was the one (given how she had confided in me) who had freed you from her cruelty, and left her cruelly deceived. The hour for the challenge has come, but this challenge I can master with ease: my science of enchantment will serve to make the journey brief.

Count Partinuplés 181

Has she had a change of heart? What does she say?

What you’ve heard. I’ve come only to bring you there.

COUNT

ALDORA

COUNT Better to say, you bring me back to life!

Come with me, then.

I’m a thousand times blessed.

I’ve gone crazier than the Count: all you women are devils!

ALDORA

COUNT

GAULÍN

ALDORA It’s in your power to end your sentence.

I follow your pleasure.

Then join me, Count.

COUNT

ALDORA

(The two join her.)

You’re a devil leading me to sin!

GAULÍN

(The stage machinery starts lifting all three.)

Here we ascend, to airy clouds, out of madness and of maelstrom.

GAULÍN

182 ANA CARO MALLÉN Though we peacefully go aloft, I’m ready to let loose a hailstorm. (The stage machinery retracts.) (Enter an old man, and another, with hammer and board.109) OLD MAN Love will bring this beautiful battle to a rousing finish today. Guillermo Guarín! Lay that board over here. GUILLERMO

It’ll go better here.

It’s in front of the royal balcony.

OLD MAN

GUILLERMO (laying down the board)

How can a man be expected to do his job without something to drink?

OLD MAN You’ll be drinking later, Guillermo.

I’d be better off drinking now.

Stop it.

GUILLERMO

OLD MAN

109. The scene shifts back to Constantinople. The characters appear to be constructing a palenque, a ramp “that leads from the ground to the stage” (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 166). In effect, the theater itself, for the climactic scene, is being transformed into a type of tournament ground. Guillermo and the Old Man are thus, for all intents and purposes, the stage hands effecting this transformation in view of the audience, and Caro has given them a few lines of comic “cover” dialogue—maybe more was improvised?—while they refashion the stage.

Count Partinuplés 183 GUILLERMO Master, I’m wild from thirst: the man who’s oiled is best at toil. This side’s all set.

Give me the hammer.

OLD MAN

GUILLERMO Today I wagered two barrels of wine on who was going to win the thing.

Who’s the challenger?

OLD MAN

GUILLERMO The signs just say the challenge involves three cruel thrusts of the lance.

What a huge mistake!

OLD MAN

GUILLERMO And five of the sword, to see whose mettle and valor are worth the hand of Her Majesty, the princess.

That’s nothing. Umppph. Is it strong enough?

Let’s just say, it’s strong as it needs to be.

OLD MAN

GUILLERMO

OLD MAN

Then come. The man who wins this joust today will take home a darn good girl.

184 ANA CARO MALLÉN (They exit.) (A curtain is drawn, and, behind it, Rosaura is discovered in her royal seating area at a low-balcony viewing-area, with her ladies-in-waiting. Below her is Emilio, dressed as a judge. Wind instruments, drums, and trumpets are heard.)

So the day has arrived, Celia?

ROSAURA 110

CELIA

Yes, my lady.

I’m sad to see it.

ROSAURA

That’s not right. Take heart, my lady.

How can that be if at this moment I’m without my cousin Aldora? I don’t know what she’s thinking.

CELIA

ROSAURA

(Drums play across the theater patio.)

EMILIO Here comes the challenger. But who’s that, on a horse …?

Unheard of. A woman.

ROSAURA

(Enter Lisbella on horseback. She takes out a painted flag and gives signals.)

And an extremely beautiful one.

EMILIO

110. The Spanish verse shifts into romance, where it remains for the rest of the play, save for the trio of three-line motes that the contenders deliver to Rosaura via Aldora.

Count Partinuplés 185 ROSAURA Listen. She waves the flag of peace. LISBELLA

Great queen of Constantinople, who today all Thrace acknowledges as sovereign and mighty empress; princes, dukes, and counts—hear me out. A woman alone now speaks to you, armored only with her wits. Let it be known to all of you, I am Lisbella, daughter to the fleur de lys and its dauphin, and sister to great King Henry. I am heir to all of Gaul, that kingdom to which the Pyrenees humbly bow their lofty heads. I rule over many kingdoms, but the fact that I am Lisbella is reason enough to spur me on to this valiant enterprise, arduous as it may be. Empress, it has come to my attention you have usurped and jailed my cousin, Count Partinuplés, and that you have arranged to marry him, not in an upstanding way but through illusions of enchantment. You tarnish his reputation, you tyrannize his liberty, you hold him hostage in violation of your royal dignity. And so, finding myself obliged to free him from this infamy, this indignity, this insult, I ask you to hand him over, not because our marriage was already fully arranged— I no longer want him as lover, this infamy rules that out, it’s now a marriage of convenience—

186 ANA CARO MALLÉN but it is imperative he go to France and become its King at once, for my uncle has died (the poor man may have died of grief because he missed his nephew so much). The Count inherits his kingdom. All this I have come to tell you, Rosaura, and also that behind me stands an enormous armada: it’s in port within sight of the walls of your Court. Deny me my cousin, I will take it as a provocation: not a city, not a castle, not one single humble house will be left standing in your kingdom. When I am pushed beyond the brink, I lose control, I become fury, I become fiery terror, blazing rage, to ravage your love, to ruin your name, and lay waste to your homeland.111 (Enter Aldora, above, at Rosaura’s side.)

Is this real or a dream?

Arrogant French!

ALDORA

EMILIO

ROSAURA You’ve come at the right moment, Aldora, I pardon your lateness. Did you hear the challenge she made?

She’s a little stirred up.

ALDORA

111. Lisbella, like many women in the comedia, has usurped the role of a man in seeking what is rightfully hers (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 196).

Count Partinuplés 187

What do you think?

ROSAURA

ALDORA I think you’d better give her what she wants. ROSAURA Your Highness, great lady, please, you have my word: approach in peace. (Lisbella goes up the ramp where the tournament takes place.)

I come in peace.

LISBELLA

ROSAURA What disgrace, Aldora! Lisbella, you are most welcome here. Now hear this truth from me.

Speak.

LISBELLA

ROSAURA Your Highness, great lady, you come under a false and blind impression. Badly misinformed, you blame me; sadly misled, you aggrieve me. You offend my chaste reputation, you abuse my noble decorum. And so as to make you assured of my word, this very day you shall bear formal witness to my wedding—that is, should you choose to do me that honor— since I am being forced to marry Poland, Transylvania, or Scotland.

And how will the choice be made?

LISBELLA

188 ANA CARO MALLÉN

A tournament is instrument to determine who wins my hand.

How that Gaulín deceived me, spurring me to this rash action!112

ROSAURA

LISBELLA (aside)

(to Rosaura) Let me simply say, I would like to attend this wedding of yours, and I am obliged for this courteous explanation you have offered. (The musicians play, then go quiet.)

The musicians seem to announce that a challenger has arrived.

EMILIO

(They play. Robert makes his entry and hands over a poem.113) ALDORA (reading) “By the will of heaven, I shall compete in hope of winning, and then await my good fortune and embrace my fate.” (They joust, and then Edward enters and does the same, with Aldora reading while they put on their helmets.) ALDORA (reading) “There’s not enough laurel in the world 112. This is the only place in which the play directly acknowledges how Lisbella came to know of Rosaura’s situation. This is one of a number of plot points left undeveloped by Caro. 113. These poems are motes, short poetic forms, often in three lines, sometimes used in poetic “jousts.” The seventeenth-century dictionary of Sebastián de Covarrubias Orozco describes a mote as “a statement spoken with elegance, in few words” (Tesoro de la lengua castellana o Española [1611], ed. Ignacio Arellano and Rafael Zafra (Madrid: Iberoamericana; Frankfurt am Main: Vervuert, 2006, 1299).

Count Partinuplés 189 to crown my brow if I pass this test. Sweet love, I hope to be so blessed.” (Musicians play. Frederick enters, doing the same as the others.)

I’ve no ability to choose, I’ve lost all sense of how to judge, my spirit is gone.

Come on, sir. Let’s have the verse you wrote.114

Come here. Here is how the conceit goes.

ROSAURA

EMILIO

ALDORA

(reading) “Like Icarus, like a soaring eagle, I ask you to gaze upon the man who dares to touch the sun.” (They joust, and then Emilio speaks.)

The challenger has won the day: he wins both empress and empire.

EMILIO

(They take off their helmets, and then speak.) ROBERT How can this be? We don’t know who this knight can possibly be. To not reveal him is treachery! We challengers have the right to know.

114. It is unclear to whom Emilio is addressing his comments here, and hence who the author of the following mote is. Symmetry dictates that this would be Frederick, but the sentiment of the mote and the framing of Emilio’s exchange with him give dramatic logic to the Count.

190 ANA CARO MALLÉN ALDORA Speak to them, Your Highness, my lady. ROSAURA The terms of the tournament were clear: whichever challenger won it fairly would be the one to win the prize.

I submit before his steel.

FREDERICK

So do we all.

Tell us then, who you are, knight. Now is the time to speak.

EDWARD

ROSAURA

(The Count takes off his helmet.)

I am the Count.

Love, what’s this?

COUNT

ROSAURA

(The ladies descend to the stage.)

Count, my cousin and my lord: be advised, a kingdom awaits you.

Enjoy it, Lisbella, my sister.115 I desire no earthly good without Rosaura.

LISBELLA

COUNT

115. Lisbella, of course, is his cousin, not his sister; the Count uses the term proverbially to suggest a close family relationship.

Count Partinuplés 191

I am yours.

ROSAURA

COUNT

Cousin, the solution you seek is not with me. France is yours, and so is Robert. What’s your answer?

I will obey.

I am your slave.

LISBELLA

ROBERT

EDWARD And I, Aldora, will be your husband, if it pleases you.

My hand is yours.

Frederick, if you so wish, you may be lord over my sister, Recisunda.

I’d be so blessed.

ALDORA

ROBERT

FREDERICK

GAULÍN Well, all the “he’s” and all the “she’s” seem to be getting married— everyone except poor Gaulín, who ends up without a woman, or a snake, not that there’s really any difference.

You’ll find one someday.

COUNT

192 ANA CARO MALLÉN GAULÍN I’m sure you’re right, I hear there’s plenty out there.116 But better off without one. COUNT And so, discerning audience, Count Partinuplés now ends. Pardon its errors and give us your hands.117

116. Gaulín, fond of metatheatrical commentary, may be alluding to an audience with many women. Stage-effect plays of this type apparently had a large female audience (Luna, El conde Partinuplés, 173). 117. Comedias normally ended with words to this effect, repeating the title of the play and begging for the audience’s pardon (and applause).

FOUR LOAS AND A SPIRITUAL COLOQUIO by SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX

Biographical Note In 1621, the year Felipe IV inherited the throne of Spain, Marcela del Carpio entered the Convent of the Discalced Trinitarian Order in Madrid. Both events were the cause of celebration. Her profession of faith was attended by some of the most famous writers, musicians, and religious figures of the time. She was after all, Lope de Vega’s daughter. Marcela del Carpio, later Sor Marcela de San Félix, was born in 1605 in Toledo to the unmarried Lope de Vega and actress Micaela Luján, who was at the time married to actor Diego Díaz de Castro. Raised initially by a servant, she later was cared for by Lope’s wife Marta de Nevares, whom he married in 1613. Marcela had one brother, Lopito, and several stepbrothers and stepsisters. During her youth, she witnessed her father’s promiscuous life. She even was asked at one point to make copies of Lope’s correspondence with his then-lover Marta de Nevares and to take those copies to Lope’s patron, the Duque de Sessa. Evidence suggests that Marcela loved her father devotedly, but disapproved of his turbulent love life. Like other nuns, Sor Marcela occupied many roles in the convent—among them charge of the food pantry, a position she mocks in her work—before eventually becoming mother superior. Throughout, she followed in her father’s footsteps by becoming a writer. Lope and Marcela had a tight bond that they maintained during his entire life: he visited her every day in the convent until his death in 1635. Sor Marcela wrote a spiritual biography plus five volumes of literary works, only one of which survives today at the Trinitarian convent in Madrid. Again like many other nuns who performed acts of humility to demonstrate their faith in God, she claimed to have burned the rest of her work at her confessor’s request. The surviving volume includes six religious plays (coloquios espirituales), eight loas, and more than thirty poetic compositions, including romances, seguidillas, and villancicos. The four loas and the coloquio included in this edition will give readers insight into Sor Marcela’s literary skills, wit, and humor. As is usually the case with conventual female writings, Sor Marcela’s compositions were written for the convent, and in the case of her plays, they were performed by and for the nuns (with Sor Marcela herself as the main actress), although sometimes other figures from the secular world could also attend the performances (such as the nuns’ family members and other notable guests). Sor Marcela died in 1686 in the convent, admired and mourned by many important figures of her time, religious and secular, literary and non-literary.

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Select Bibliography Editions Arenal, Electa, and Georgina Sabat Rivers, eds. Literatura conventual femenina: Sor Marcela de San Félix, hija de Lope de Vega. Obra completa. Coloquios espirituales, loas y otros poemas. Prologue by José María Díez Borque. Barcelona: Promociones y Publicaciones Universitarias, 1988. Ramírez Nuño, José, and Clara Isabel Delgado Ramírez, eds. Sor Marcela de San Félix de Lope de Vega y Luján: Obra poética completa. Córdoba: Monte de Piedad y Caja de Ahorros de Córdoba, 1987. Serrano y Sanz, Manuel, ed. “Coloquios and Loas.” By Sor Marcela de San Félix. In Apuntes para una biblioteca de escritoras españolas desde el año 1401 al 1833, vol. 2, 238–92. Madrid: Rivadeneira, 1903. Smith, Susan M. “The Colloquies of Sor Marcela de San Félix and the Tradition of Sacred Allegorical Drama.” Ph.D. diss., University of Virginia, 1998. __________, and Georgina Sabat de Rivers, eds. Los  coloquios  del  Alma: Cuatro  dramas  alegóricos de Sor Marcela de San Félix, hija  de  Lope  de  Vega. Newark, DE: Juan de la Cuesta, 2006. Vélez Sanz, Julio, and Gemma Rodríguez Ibarra, eds. “Entreactos de Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán y Loas de Sor Marcela de San Félix.” In Dramaturgas barrocas, teatro breve. Madrid: El Corpus Digital de Teatro Breve Español (CORTBE), 2015. .

Studies Arenal, Electa. “Vida y teatro conventual: Sor Marcela de San Félix.” In La creatividad femenina en el mundo barroco hispánico. María de Zayas—Isabel Rebeca Correa—Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, edited by Monika Bosse, Barbara Potthast, and André Stoll, vol. 1, 209–20. Kassel: Reichenberger, 2000. __________, and Georgina Sabat de Rivers. “Una Hija de Lope, Escritora.” Ínsula: Revista de Letras y Ciencias Humanas 484 (1987): 5. Sabat de Rivers, Georgina. “Literatura manuscrita de convento: Teatro y Poesía de la hija de Lope en el Madrid del XVII.” Anuario de Letras 39 (2001): 435–50. __________, and Electa Arenal. “Voces del Convento: Sor Marcela, La Hija de Lope.” Actas del IX Congreso de la Asociación Internacional de Hispanistas, I & II, 591–99. Madrid: Iberoamericana; Frankfurt, Vervuert, 1989. Serrano y Sanz, Manuel. “Sor Marcela de San Félix.” In Apuntes para una biblioteca de escritoras españolas desde el año 1401 al 1833, vol. 2, 235–98. Madrid: Rivadeneira, 1905. 195

196 Four Loas and a Coloquio Smith, Susan M. “Notes on a Newly Discovered Play: Is Marcela de San Félix the Author?” Bulletin of the Comediantes 52, no. 1 (2000): 147–70. Tigchelaar, Alisa J. “Approaching Spanish Religiosity Through C. S. Lewis on the Meaning of Life: From Marcela de San Félix to Miguel de Unamuno.” Notandum 25 (2011): 63–74. __________. “Redemption Theology in Mystical Convent Drama: ‘The Already and the Not Yet’ in Hildegard of Bingen’s Ordo virtutum and Marcela de San Félix’s Breve festejo.” Mirabilia: Revista Eletrônica de História Antiga e Medieval 15 (2012): 86–127.

Plot and Analysis While plays are always both blueprints for and residues of an initial performative moment that no longer exists, these short pieces by Sor Marcela are pointedly so: they are replete with specific references to their original context, and require us to imagine that long-vanished context in order to fully engage with them. The loas, generally performed as prologues to longer coloquios, derive their energy from mid-seventeenth-century self-referential gender play: they are not only about the convent in which they are being presented, but in a number of cases they feature their author as a subject of the comedy. The performative layer is that Sor Marcela herself, dressed as a man, is understood to be playing these hungry scholars. Nothing could be more “meta.” These loas, which must have been uproariously received, thus invite playful self-mockery while also launching a critique of the squalid conditions of the convent and the misogyny of these beggar-like men who plagued them. In the first Loa, a nun masquerading as a picaresque scholar bemoans his suffering from all kinds of sicknesses. Two doorkeep nuns ask him to write a piece in exchange for food in a celebration they are having for taking vows. Each nun embodies a different personality: one kind and good-humored, another phlegmatic and demanding. The latter requests that his piece be at least as good as Lope de Vega’s. In the second Loa, two nuns, Jerónima and Marcela, dressed as male scholars, mock the convent’s provisora (food-purveyor) and lament its difficult living conditions. In the third Loa, a nun ironically laments the end of her term as provisora, while another nun comforts her. The fourth Loa once again features the character of a hungry scholar, who addresses the audience in error-filled Latin and comically launches into an invective against the convent and its inhabitants. The Coloquio entitled El celo indiscreto (Mindless Zeal) uses allegorical characters to trade on the same qualities of the loas, but the stakes are higher here: Sor Marcela genders the aggressive, violent zealotry as male. The women in the play—Soul, Peace, and Sincerity, along with all the other characters—manage to repel this insistent, destructive character only by staunchly coming together in solidarity. Of course, in the end, they do need the help of two male minor characters to provide the “muscle” to get rid of this man who cannot and will not go voluntarily. Through this funny yet harrowing morality tale, Sor Marcela makes gender dynamics inseparable from theology. For ease of reference to each of Sor Marcela’s loas, we have given them subtitles that did not exist in the original.

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Another Loa: The Hungry Scholar1 [SCHOLAR] 2 I know that sweet compassion reigns among such good and saintly nuns, and so I come before you now to plead with you to show me some. So as to move you to this mercy, allow me briefly to relate my life to you and all its trials: I hope you’ll bring me some relief. I’ll start by listing all my woes, my sicknesses that have no cure, my maladies that have no end or medicine to cut them short. I won’t speak of the many struggles of the soul, lest I offend the modesty of such decent, upstanding religious women. I’ll speak instead of the bodily ills that torment me mercilessly. I have discomfort in head and bowels. I am drowsy and I have dropsy, I am consumptive, I have the pox, I’ve got the measles, my heart is sick. I have scrofula, what’s more, I’m deaf,3 my incisors and my molars ache, I have lockjaw, as you can tell from this plaster on my face 1. This edition of the Loa, and all the other works here by Sor Marcela, follow Electa Arenal and Georgina Sabat de Rivers’s edition of Sor Marcela de San Félix’s work, Obra completa: Coloquios espirituales, loas y otros poemas (Barcelona: Promociones y Publicaciones Universitarias, 1988). It appears on page 361 of this edition as the second of eight loas for “different coloquios.” The context makes clear that it was written for a taking of vows. Commonplace in professional theater of the time, a loa was a spoken introduction to a longer play that followed; written in verse, it wittily kicked off the larger event through one or more characters who often directly addressed the audience. Citations from Arenal and Sabat de Rivers’s edition will include their names and the corresponding page number. 2. There are no stage directions in this loa, nor is any speaker given. The performer would certainly have been one of the sisters—perhaps Marcela herself—in the habitual loa guise of the itinerant, miserable scholar. 3. Scrofula, also known as “the king’s evil,” is tuberculosis of the lymph nodes, especially in the neck.

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Four Loas and a Coloquio 199 which serves to treat this malady. On my rear, I’ve got the mange. I have ringworm of the scalp, causing me ceaseless distress; I’ve the mumps and hypochondria, not to mention a touch of jaundice. I’m also host to countless herds of swarming bedbugs, lice, and fleas. These are, in perverse multitudes, my bodily adversities— all this, and so much more, due to my miserable poverty. I could go on with my untold woes, and recount doleful tragedies if only you would lend your ears: but why should I afflict you further with my grievous complaints? Reciting them mortifies me. Rather, I’ll speak of my illustrious roots— my forebears did the whole world honor. My parents bequeathed me noble blood— may both of them rest in heaven! My father traced his lineage in a direct and unbroken line to a man in ancient Judea— the greatest rabbi of his time.4 My mother—well, she wasn’t so noble, but she led a life so holy and good that she surpassed all those who claim true nobility of the blood. She flew across the midnight wind— yes, she was known the wide world over. Descending chimneys was her wont: she was the great witch of Logroño!5 My sainted parents passed away when I was of such a tender age 4. The anti-Semitic joke here draws on seventeenth-century Spain’s obsession with proving oneself an “old Christian”—that is, not of Jewish or Moorish ancestry. 5. The Inquisition conducted a famous series of witch trials near Logroño in 1609–10. Both of the Scholar’s parents would therefore have been persecuted by the Inquisition as heretics. No ancestry could be more dubious.

200 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX that I could not rely upon their refined, aristocratic ways to guide me on the path of life except for those few scraps I scavenged, which together form the total of my scant inheritance.6 What’s sustained me are my studies, and the mercy of the doorkeeps who guard this blessed convent’s turnstile:7 may God keep them pure and holy! But my indebtedness to them, which you see in my affection, has another side to it, for they’re the source of my affliction. One day when I approached their turnstile asking for a cabbage or two (so well-prepared, so finely seasoned, they’d bring great solace to my bowels), one of the doorkeeps, the younger one, the one whose ways are damp and chilly, the one who’s famed for her great phlegm8— I say it without hyperbole: the words freeze in her very mouth! In a tone that was cruel, severe, and imperious, she declared: “Look, scholar, my good señor, save me from humiliation. I take you for a poet. Help me: I need to keep my reputation. We have a novice who will shortly take her vows, and I’ve been asked to 6. A winking reference to Sor Marcela’s status as Lope de Vega’s illegitimate daughter, in keeping with the ironic tone of the loa. 7. Most convents, including Sor Marcela’s, required uninvited visitors’ interactions to be conducted via a turnstile in the convent wall, thereby limiting unsolicited contact with the world beyond the walls. The sisters who operated these turnstiles were torneros, from the Spanish word for turnstile, torno. Since English has no such word, “doorkeep” has been chosen here. 8. As explained previously in Count Partinuplés, “phlegm” was the cold, moist humor, manifested in people who were damp and chilly; these individuals tended toward patience and were rarely moved to emotion. In the loas, Sor Marcela consistently represents herself as a woman of uncommon phlegm. The doorkeep in question is obviously Marcela. If we take Marcela to be the performer here as well, the metatheatricality mounts.

Four Loas and a Coloquio 201 oversee the whole fiesta. I’ve penned a coloquio for the mothers but still need a rousing loa to add some spice to the great event. Can you help me, goodly scholar, and pull a loa from your head? I’ll claim it as mine, and be so grateful that you’ll be eating more than cabbage.” Then the other one arrived— the older of the two doorkeeps, I mean. She told me in a gentle voice, layered with cinnamon and sugar: “Take care, scholar, good señor, on fine occasions such as these, devotion must shine in every word. Make sure the loa’s perfectly phrased, make sure it’s full of verse that’s sweet, make sure it’s laced with holy wisdom and brimming with beautiful conceits: the mothers must be edified but also find it entertaining: though they’re of the barefoot order,9 they’re not bare in their discretion. Say that the religious life is the most perfect in the world. Say that the nuns are angels, and their convent, a heaven on earth. Tell the girl taking her vows to better herself in all things. She must strive for perfection and pursue heroic purity, for she is now in obligation to He who brought her, through His grandeur, to this garden of pure lilies at an age so young and tender. Tell her of this obligation: how He took her from the world to be His bride and queen.10 Tell her 9. That is, as a discalced order whose members wore sandals. 10. God/Jesus Christ is spoken of as a husband here (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 369), emphasizing that this vow-taking (for which the loa was composed) was understood to be a marriage.

202 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX to be unwavering, to hold herself to repaying this debt, and to pay the greatest attention to the very smallest things. In all her daily, mundane actions she should set a shining example; she should treat every single day as if it were her very first, and respect all others as if they were superior to her, for she was born to humbly serve. Tell her with style and great skill that never should she for an instant dare to forsake her new betrothed. She must always keep Him with her, and should she ever gently wound Him with arrows from her blazing heart, inflamed with surfeit of desire— that’s all right, as long as her eyes always show Him that same love: may she never forget this lofty state over which she now is sovereign queen. And tell her, finally, never to waver: may her humility daily grow, may she be steadfast in her fervor, may she model obedience and poverty and chastity, and always observe with great attention the ways of silence and modesty, and may her words be kind and measured.” Then that nun-devil—the first one—spoke: “Arrange it all so every letter is set down right. Not one mistake! Give us a loa so utterly perfect, so absolutely free from error, that it surpasses in every way the work of the great Lope de Vega!” Oh woe is me, for I’m no poet. I haven’t a gift for fancy words or ounce of poetry in my blood, I’ve never penned a single verse

Four Loas and a Coloquio 203 or rhymed a flimsy little couplet. What do these nuns want from me? Are they hoping I’ll lose my mind? I know nothing of poetry, I’ve never ridden Pegasus,11 never met those mythic nymphs whom lofty writers dub “the Muses,” who exercise their influence upon the souls of earthly poets. Have I conversed with great Apollo? Have I imbibed a single drop of inspiration from Cavalina’s clear and beautiful mountain spring?12 I’m to write a loa for this show? How I’m suffering over this task— may Jesus save the coloquio! That fateful day, I was so hungry, I told them I’d come up with a loa— I would have promised so much more. Oh, you miserable, evil lentils! Oh, you cabbage of ill-repute! May you turn to poison before the mouth can even get close to you. It’s all because of you I’m caught in a terrible mess like this. Oh holy ladies, give me a loa! I’ll take a big one or a small one, I’ll take a new one or an old one so I can keep my word to those fearsome doorkeeps, for if I don’t, I’ll surely lose the alms they give me, which are the only support I’ve got. Is there no way I can concoct a simple loa, for better or worse? Am I so pathetic that I lack the slightest ounce of cleverness? I try to start with a single couplet, and then I chew my nails to bits 11. Pegasus: winged horse, symbol of creative imagination (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 369). 12. Hippocrene, the spring on Mount Helicon reputed to be the fount of the Muses; created by a kick from Pegasus (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 369).

204 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX and tear my eyebrows into shreds. Nothing comes. I always fail, my head starts swimming. My daily rations are so meager, the simplest thought sets me reeling. How can it be I can’t produce a single thing? What stubborn force is blocking me from finding a rhyme? May the mighty poets, with all their divine power, ancient and modern, come and find me! Here I am, mighty Plautus and Terence!13 Lope de Vega, I stand before you, you shining beacons to all poets! I’ll start by listing the many virtues of taking vows, the glories of Saint Polycarp, Saint Damian,14 but I won’t come up with a single rhyme— that much, ladies, at least is certain. No, a rhyme of even the slightest kind has never graced my imagination. I give up. I wish I were a culture-fied poet of critication like great Tamburlaine of Persia,15 but my feeble wit offers me no exit from this awful business. So beg my pardon with the doorkeeps. On my life, I tried my best to give them their desired loa. May they both be forgiving and assign it to another who can live up to this commitment. And so let me say, in homespun prose, in my plain and simple way: please prepare for the coloquio 13. Two great Roman comic dramatists. As the subsequent reference to Lope de Vega reaffirms, the inspiration the poet is seeking is theatrical. 14. Early Christian martyrs. Damian was the brother of Cosmas, whom Gaulín invokes in Count Partinuplés; see note 87 to that play. 15. Fourteenth-century Central Asian conqueror (also known as “Timur”), known for his highly cultured court. As the comic mispronunciation (“cultífero y criticaco” in the Spanish) suggests, the Scholar is by now starting to lose his bearings (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 369).

Four Loas and a Coloquio 205 composed with proper courtesy by Marcela, in the hope of entertaining the mothers today: she respects and loves them so that all the effort she exerts— all the writing, all the learning— is time well spent. She’d do the same, though the time spent were eternal, to serve the one she vows to love. Now I beg you, should the doorkeeps ever ask who wrote this loa, tell them, holy ladies, it was I, and that you were pleased with my work: I can’t afford to lose the food which both slays and stokes my hunger in a single, self-same stroke.

Another Loa: To the Hard-Times Easter Play16 (Enter Jerónima, dressed as a [male] scholar.17) [JERÓNIMA] Your reverences may think I come to offer you a loa. Alas, I must disabuse you all: such is definitely not the case— no coloquio, no fiesta can manage to see the light of day. Times are hard, things are scarce, and we find ourselves in a state where all good humor is depleted, and the world’s devoid of wit. Everyone moans of affliction over the state of our poor budget.18 There’s no juice waiting on the table, no food anywhere to eat, no strips of bacon hanging to dry, and everyone wails and weeps for it seems our world’s coming to an end. Only Sor Juana19 remains joyous, as if she expects us to canonize her base, miserable, abject portions. Of course, we can’t impute bad motives to her, or point out the many places where she falls short in giving rations— no, we’re forced to sing her praises, for even in these paltry times we somehow each day manage to eat. 16. This loa appears on page 371 of Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, the third of eight loas for “different coloquios.” 17. Jerónima is presumed to be the name of the performer—that is, one of Sor Marcela’s Trinitarian sisters. In this loa, Jerónima moves fluidly from largely speaking in her own voice in the early part of the loa to more fully assuming the role of the scholar as the piece unfolds. 18. Economic hard times—endemic to mid-seventeenth-century Spain—are a constant source of humor in Sor Marcela’s loas. 19. Sor Juana was obviously the convent’s provisora (food purveyor) at the time of this performance and the butt of humor for the small portions she doled out (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 379).

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Four Loas and a Coloquio 207 Above all, I have one chief worry, one great grief that weighs upon me: I’m scared these trying times may stand in God’s way, for inconstancy thrives wherever scarcity reigns. For example, please permit me to recount the most disgraceful and deceitful case to date— yes, it’s quite fair to call it that. It seems in very recent days— oh, despicable and strange affair!— some radishes and chestnuts were discovered in illicit union on the very same plate! The odor of sin was overwhelming. And more than once they’ve slid back into this unseemly, contemptible vice. As you see, my friends, I’m a scholar who is merely passing through this place from his hometown of Getafe to Salamanca,20 where I may study. Though I’m poor and dressed quite badly, these ebbing standards are in keeping with those of us who are called poets. My head, however, is totally empty: I haven’t managed to compose a verse to brighten up your Easter feast, so when you see last year’s shepherd enter in his rustic cap and leggings, please refrain from getting angry: he’ll recite the same old ballad in tight breeches, as part of his act. Necessity’s mother to invention; everything, mothers, can be patched, and all things pass. So don’t take it badly that our fiesta’s patched up this way: old things can be made new again.21 20. Getafe is a town close to Madrid; Salamanca was the site of Spain’s most prestigious university. Jerónima more fully assumes the role of the scholar here. 21. This verse not only specifies the Easter context for this composition but also clarifies that this loa serves as an apology for the lack of a new coloquio to follow.

208 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX As Marcela herself often says: “Never lose hope.” Sing great praises to the son of Mary, and you’ll be cheered, and if you hunger for some pleasure, Marcela provides just what you need, bought at the price of her great efforts that never tire her out one bit. She offers you all her phlegm and what little grace and wit she has. She wished she had as much as all the squint-eyed, hunchbacked, ugly women in the world!22 These are the days we celebrate the mystery of a God who became so human that He gave up his sovereign glory to lodge among us here on earth, and thus was born in hay and straw, and so we must always praise Him with fine words and verses. Don’t be surprised: the Church has always sung its hymns and intoned its teachings, divinely guided.23 What’s more, you can all be thankful the blind man won’t make his entrance, reciting couplets, spewing ballads, and sowing all his worthless notions.24 But though he won’t show up, don’t worry: Marcela will keep him well preserved in vinegar, for another year— that is, should the authorities permit another fiesta to take place So let’s do our best to help Marcela, let’s stitch together these tattered rags, for Jerónima was neglectful while she suffered those long fevers.25 22. Popular wisdom had it that ugly women were smart (and beautiful women, stupid). Gaulín affirms the same in Count Partinuplés. 23. Sor Marcela is defending the use of performing arts for religious purposes. The words may be aimed at ecclesiastic dignitaries in attendance. 24. Apparently a character who appeared in a previous loa or coloquio, though he is not found in any surviving works by Sor Marcela (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 379). 25. This verse suggests Jerónima’s role as Marcela’s collaborator, as well as the former’s recent illness (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 380).

Four Loas and a Coloquio 209 Finally, the two are back together to mend this piece as best they can. God willing, may you take some pleasure in what they do. They only hope to be a small diversion from the many woes we face today. (Enter Marcela [dressed as a male scholar].) MARCELA Señor, let me wish you welcome! What brings you here? Is the Academy26 meeting nearby? I’ve heard it said lofty poets are gathering. We cannot miss a moment, friend! They’ve waited for us for quite a while: I, in particular, absolutely must attend. A man of my learning has much to offer such an assembly.

Please go on without me, sir. Another task awaits me here.

JERÓNIMA

MARCELA On the life of us both, what can it be? Why do you cloak such key affairs from me, while claiming such close friendship? Tell me, is this the proper way to repay the love I show you? I quote Julius Caesar and cite Cicero of Ama-se-sissia in paragraph ninety of Strabo, that noble Spaniard of Cuenca, renowned as a brilliant scholar, and famed for gross and gaping achievement in letters and all things humane,27 26. Academia here is an unspecified academic tertulia—not a formal educational institution but a regular gathering of learned men to discuss arts and letters (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 380). 27. As his stuttering suggests, the scholar is confused to the point of spouting nonsense (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 381). Strabo was a classical Greek geographer from Amaeseia (Turkey). The Spanish

210 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX and if anger flames out my nostrils, I’ll start to spew more Latin names than could fit in a bushel basket! JERÓNIMA Calm, calm, don’t get so flustered. MARCELA I’m like a red pimento. My eyes shoot flames, my very veins flash powder!28 I am— JERÓNIMA Get a hold of yourself. What’s the point of this fierce display? I’ll gladly tell you where I’m going. MARCELA

Do so, and you’ll finally allay these passions of mine. They were so stirred up, unbound; my vital organs so discomposed, they forced my tongue to fire fiercely, to flow in torrents, to frightfully vomit bloody words. So tell me: where are you off to?

A little bit of fiesta awaits me in a certain holy convent.

In a convent? God save me from associating with nuns!

JERÓNIMA

MARCELA

town of Cuenca did not exist in Roman times, but Seneca (another classical writer of Cicero and Strabo’s ilk) was frequently cited proudly by seventeenth-century Spaniards because he was from Córdoba. 28. Part of the performance in-joke is that this hot-tempered display is the antithesis of Marcela’s accustomed phlegm.

Four Loas and a Coloquio 211 JERÓNIMA I know that if you knew the convent, and the fiesta, you’d want to come. You’d admire and respect them. MARCELA Is that so? They must certainly be the lovely Trinitarians. A bunch of little angels, like sweet buttered biscuits! They’re great friends of mine; they always show appreciation, and applaud and celebrate all my silly little conceits. I’ll go with pleasure, and help however I can. I’ll implore Apollo, not to mention all Parnassus and its fair maidens,29 to cheer these mothers for whom I feel such deep affection. Normally I’m no friend to nuns, but I confess, for these good women, I’ll be happy to show my love and bring them a little joy, for I know their many gifts well. They are saintly but without fuss; they show no excess or wild fancy. They serve God simply, sincerely. But tell me, please, who are their governing abbesses? The same two women as when I preached to them and treated their consciences? JERÓNIMA

The very same: the two Inéses. May they serve for many years to come.

MARCELA What have they done that you curse them this way? If I were to wish evil on a woman, if I bore her some deep disdain, I’d ask her to run a convent. 29. The Nine Muses (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 380).

212 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX These two you name, when it comes to virtue and prudence, it’s evident: there are no better in the world. JERÓNIMA Careful how you heap your praise or they’ll think you fawn and flatter just to serve some personal cause. MARCELA They know well I’m not prone to flatter, the truth of my words shines forth so clearly. Besides, they are so continually grumbled about, should they hear the slightest praise, they’ll take it for some budding fruit that can’t endure.

How is her reverence, Sor Juana?

JERÓNIMA

MARCELA I’ve been told she’s getting quite plump. These calamities have made her youthful, pretty, and happy again: to gaze on her is great pleasure.

I don’t think I can say “amen.” But I’ve played that note already.

JERÓNIMA

MARCELA Play it, please. You could go on playing for centuries and never get to the end of it. The mother purveyor has a pantry so well-stocked it gives us plenty of nothing to dine. These miserable times are her payment to purchase us more miserable times, but her own misery has yet to be seen.

Four Loas and a Coloquio 213 JERÓNIMA You’re still reading from that same page. MARCELA It’s old news, but it still sounds good. But it seems to be it’s getting late, I’m getting worried and distressed: if Sor Juana should get angry, our supper tonight will be at risk. God help me, I’m getting hungry!30 To quote the famous Frenchman Valdo: “Modorrorum opera mueca, bobolata sum.”31 JERÓNIMA

Yes, nothing worse than a quarrel when you’ve got an empty stomach!

30. Sor Marcela’s loas and coloquios frequently conclude with a reference to a meal to come, suggesting these performances’ festive context (and underscoring their frequent obsession with food). 31. Valdo, or Peter Waldo, was the twelfth-century founder of the heretical Waldensian order, dedicated to a life of extreme poverty. The Latin is nonsensical; it literally means, “I’m made stupid by the works of lethargic people” (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 381). The length of this verse is irregular in the source text.

Another Loa: On Finishing a Term of Service32 (Enter Marcela, alone.) MARCELA I have two reasons for coming here, esteemed and worthy audience, to address your holy reverences, and both are of great importance. The first is to humbly ask your pardon— I’m late in doing so, I admit— for serving you so poorly lately and having been so impolite. To tolerate this discourtesy must be a mortification to you. I’m mortified as well, and rely upon your patience and forgiveness as I have so many times before. My strength is little; times are hard, and as you all well know, my skills are scant. My phlegm—well, friends, that has never been a shortcoming of mine. Had I more skill, there might be no shortage of what I could provide. But through these trying circumstances, due to their forbearance and goodness, the mothers have won great glory for God. My laziness, misery, and harshness have helped them win this crown. They’ve borne it all like sages, saints, embracing their husband33 through bleak, scarce times. No doubt, for this, they’ve been well graced with other gifts from the one who rewards us for doing His works of love. This is my only consolation: I have always begged the one above 32. This piece appears on page 383 of Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, the fourth of eight loas for “different coloquios.” 33. Jesus Christ (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 388). Cf. note 10.

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Four Loas and a Coloquio 215 to let me give you sovereign delights. I also ask pardon for my companions, and bring their pleas for your forgiveness: for their shortcomings, be understanding. Illustrious audience, Encarnación34 is right: if you failed to get your just desserts, it’s because she kept dessert just for herself. I’ve seen it all with my own eyes: what’s hidden under lock and key is no cause for her concern, even if it sits there rotting, and if the jug of wine is stowed away in the pantry, well locked up, why should she care if it goes bad because it’s been left uncorked? But now the time has finally come to state my other reason for speaking: I’m here to recite my tribulations, and to list my many afflictions. My anguishes are without number, my failures too. My sadness soars above the rooftops. All my troubles, mothers, have one and the same source: my beloved term of service soon ends.35 How will I survive without you, my refuge? Can I swallow this news and somehow manage to live? Had I a handkerchief on me now, I would weep bitter tears for the sadness of the occasion to which you see me now refer. (Enter Escolástica.36)

34. Apparently, along with Sor Marcela, Encarnación was the purveyor at the time this loa was performed (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 388). 35. Over her many decades at the convent, Sor Marcela rotated in and out of various duties and leadership roles. 36. Escolástica is presumed to be the actual name of another purveyor, who is also stepping down.

216 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX ESCOLÁSTICA (offering an enormous handkerchief) Oh, kind mother, don’t hold back: I bring this cloth for this same purpose: take note, how neatly pressed it is, to bear the grief of your great loss. Indeed, it’s the cleanest handkerchief to ever come out of hiding. We save it for special occasions, like this one. MARCELA What cruelty! You call this cloth a gift? It only rubs salt into my wounds by pointing out my short stature. ESCOLÁSTICA You are right to lament my gesture. I do believe, charitable mother, you’d sooner lack judgment than strong feelings. Were there a river here—and there might soon be—I’m sure you’d toss me in the current, and no one would even think twice. MARCELA Oh, dear Escolástica, how much time do the two of us still have to wait? My feelings can’t seem to settle down. ESCOLÁSTICA The time will sail like the swiftest fleet. MARCELA Antonio? Alonso? And the head cook?37 What will I do without their company? ESCOLÁSTICA Don’t worry about that, good mother: the crucifix shall comfort you.

37. Apparently, others who helped in food preparation (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 388).

Four Loas and a Coloquio 217 MARCELA What will I do without the wine-keep? The egg purveyor, and all her children? And our good, decent pastry maker? ESCOLÁSTICA Her goodness, indeed, is a legend. Don’t talk of them. Speak instead of our cherished storage caves. I can describe them to you now. In summer, they were scorching like an oven; in winter, sweating like a waterfall; and so low, the bumps on our heads took the measure of our trips below. The closet could staunch the flow of blood, its murky light in dark eclipse, we could barely glimpse the walls. Didn’t going there make you joyous? Didn’t you just love it all? And that window with its spirited breath— three hours straight we’d gather by it, visited by the cold north wind.

It’s a wonder we’re still alive.

MARCELA

ESCOLÁSTICA I’m sure we’re ready to be cut down from that place on Peralvillo hill,38 perfectly mummified in our flesh, complete in our habits and our hoods. MARCELA So let’s not go crazy because we’re finally stepping down; some sense is left us still. Hear ye, hear ye, one and all! Hear ye! You’ve heard the least of it, the list is infinite—but better to let the rest of it go unsaid, 38. Place in Ciudad Real where criminals were hanged (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 388).

218 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX or our meal will go to waste. Oh, my duties, how will I live without you? How will I ever find repose or rest? My words fail. Oh, fond and cherished term of service, I love you like I love the devil! ESCOLÁSTICA Mothers, enough nonsense already. I’m so in love, my body aches! I’d give my back teeth (and my front ones) to have these duties end today!39

39. In Mindless Zeal, Sor Marcela pokes fun at herself for missing teeth, pointing up a joke here about the semi-toothless state of these older women who had ascended to important positions in the convent.

Another Loa: To Taking Vows40 [SCHOLAR] Most wise and learned audience in whom religion and prudence find themselves in perfect balance— I entreat you, charitable mothers— and you as well, your reverences41 (forgive me if I place you second but I’m taking poetic license): “Loquitur carmina totius frasis sonat.”42 In any case, I beg you all for a brief moment of attention. Lend merciful ears to a deluge of dire straits, to an ocean of bad tidings, a reservoir of misery. I’m here before you, mothers, in mortal anguish. As you’ll hear, the offense I speak of is unheard of. No disgrace can parallel the affliction which I relate. A thousand tongues could never utter the rottenness I now convey. “Abundantiam malorum tacitum nunquam.”43 I am, my friends, a poet and scholar, my many gifts are widely known, as I’m sure you well remember: I’ll refrain from restating them here. I’ve told you of my heritage, my father and mother’s noble background, their brave feats, their exalted lineage— but let’s forget them for a moment … though they’re truly unmistakable— I saw it all with my own eyes!— 40. This piece appears on page 391 of Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, the fifth of eight loas for “different coloquios.” 41. The “reverences” are the abbesses who presided over the convent (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 398). 42. Roughly, “In speaking poems, everybody’s words are heard” (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 398). In the original, the Latin phrases are spread over two verses, creating irregular versification. 43. Roughly, “an abundance of ills is never quiet” (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 398).

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220 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX this breeding was my grandmother’s cradle. But getting back to what I was saying, the ways of this world may exalt us, but they’re all vanity in the end: “Vanitas humana pessima infirmitas.”44 To say, therefore, what I’ve just said, one night at a certain fiesta, as a student living in poverty, “Necesitas magna caret lege,”45 I had occasion to recount my disgraces in a convent of nuns—better yet, of beasts, for these women were worse than vipers in their cruelty and their boasts. I’m not saying they’re all this way, I’ll speak of most with decency and decorum. But I have to state, there were three who tormented me: the Purveyors. A veritable squad of craven, bloodthirsty demon-nuns, the crowning peak of misery. Don’t take me for some insolent man: my tongue is guided by pure reason, and only utters utter truth. No, I won’t speak of these women’s cruelty—if there’s a drink to be had around here, may your reverences grant it to me, my throat is dry with rage. “Animum debilem vinum corroborat.”46 I discovered, in that same place, there was to be a great fiesta as part of the celestial wedding of an angel who was giving herself to God. And since I knew on these occasions, the religious women like to present plays of devotion— I mean, divine coloquios that serve as a useful diversion— it seemed to me that with my genius 44. Roughly, “human vanity is the worst sickness” (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 398). 45. Roughly, “great need knows no law” (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 398). 46. Roughly, “wine fortifies the weak spirit” (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 399).

Four Loas and a Coloquio 221 and my immense degree of learning, I could easily pen a loa and manage to eat for two days running. When I found out their secretary, Sister Needy, was known to be quite giving, and the place, well-stocked, I went that instant. But woe is me!— at the convent door, I met a lion, a Hyrcanian tiger47—or simply, a Sor Marcela. I sidled up to her, and told her with great modesty: “Dear mother, how lucky I am to run into your Reverence here! I have something you greatly need, for though you see me quite threadbare, I bear the banner of a poet. Yes, I am proud to be disciple to the fecund Vega48 whose fertile genius birthed many noble things to Spain. I have composed a loa for your upcoming fiesta. I hope you’ll find it good enough to give the nuns a moment’s pleasure.” “Tell me, where do you have this loa?” she replied, twist-mouthed, pissedmouthed, fist-mouthed, hissing a fit.49 “Mother, I have it here in my breast. Your Reverence may see it.” “Give it, friend, God keep you. I’m off to say my prayers.” “Mother,” I replied, “may you show some charity. Can you spare a little something? My poverty’s great.” “God help me, friend, ours is greater. 47. Reputedly the fiercest wild animals, especially if the tiger was from Hyrcania, in ancient Persia (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 399). Isidore of Seville mentions Hyrcania and its tigers twice in his Etymologies (see note 57 to work of Enríquez). 48. The pun here is that “Vega,” in addition to being the name of Sor Marcela’s illustrious father, means “fertile plain.” Lope was known for having fathered many children with many women. 49. The word play in the original is boquisesga, boquiseca, boquiabrojos, boquiespinas, inventive compound words that can be loosely translated as “rude-mouthed, dry-mouthed, thistle-mouthed, thornmouthed.” Some liberties have been taken to preserve the aural pattern of the original.

222 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX This convent sustains forty-two people, we’ve a thousand obligations and little income. We don’t earn a real and we’re way in debt.” “I’m sure that’s the case,” I said to her, “but it won’t take much to put a dent in my hunger and poverty, mother. A little bit of cabbage, at the least, or some lentils, is all I ask. You’d be doing a very good deed.” “That would be a very good deed indeed! Every cabbage costs a real; every lettuce six cuartos. Every bag of lentils brought to here from market could well add up to fifty, plus, for their work, the boys want something to eat and drink. Everything costs much more than it’s worth. Isn’t that right, Mariana?50 It seems God doesn’t want the nuns to eat.” That was to one of her companions. To me, they were equal in misery and phlegm. But the other nun of “nothing” and “none”—the second companion, that is— ever so slightly more compassionate— addressed the situation like this: “Mariana, bring this poor man something from the cupboard. I stowed two leeks and an egg there—well, most of one. It was missing only the yolk.” “I’ve saved that from supper for myself. Do you think it’s there for charity? Do you have an idea of what things cost? I’m going to close up the pantry, seeing the reckless, extravagant way you make these generous offerings.” The last was said by that snarling serpent, that grating Sor Marcela. And taking more license than perhaps I should, 50. Mariana, the third of the three purveyors, does not speak in this loa; rather, she neutrally seems to countenance the contrasting attitudes of the other two purveyors.

Four Loas and a Coloquio 223 I told her: “Mother, for a great fiesta like this, can nothing be left over? Might you possibly have a crust of bread, a piece of fish, a pear?” “And if I did—brother, don’t you see that I barely have anything left for this Lent, which includes Saint Joseph, Incarnation, and Holy Thursday— when we’re required to serve a good meal— and Resurrection. Hundreds of apostles are celebrated in the time of year that falls between Christmas and Easter: Saints Anne and Magdalene …”51 If I didn’t cut her off, she’d have recited the whole calendar: there was no saint in heaven or earth who this cruel woman didn’t include in her list of holy days. In fact, a saint himself couldn’t intrude into this demon’s refectory unless he was recited in some sacred book of ancient legends or the holy Flos sanctorum.52 “Might you have some extra bread?” I replied. “You think there’s extra?!” the miserable one quickly responded. “You don’t know how expensive bread’s become. Seven fanegas53 a week doesn’t even begin to cover it. I’ve told you already about the extreme debt we’re in.” Can’t you, for love of Saint Bruno,54 give me a simple drink of water? You are the cruelest, meanest women 51. The references situate the loa as likely having been performed at the beginning of Lent but before St. Joseph’s day on March 19 (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 400). “Incarnation” is the Feast of the Annunciation on March 25. 52. The Book of Saints. 53. A fanega is a unit of weight roughly equivalent to 1.5 U.S. bushels. 54. Most likely Saint Bruno of Cologne (ca. 1030–1101), founder of the Carthusian order of monks and nuns.

224 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX in all history, and all legend. God curse you with the hunger of a dog! And may that vicious hunger never be satisfied! And may the bread you eat stick in your throat forever! May your food be bitter and salty! May a thousand flies swim in your broth! May your yolks be crawling with roaches! May your figs sprout wriggling worms! May your scalps be plagued with ringworm! May your hands be raw and mangy! And may an army of enormous rats invade and rule your pantry! In your lengthy terms of service, may every tooth from your mouths fall out!55 May your bellies vomit worms! May your bones go out of joint! May your wombs be wracked with pain! May your money be exhausted on endless barrels of curative wine, and a glass of water make you nauseous! May you never again eat olives or salad,56 and waste your coins on hardtack,57 nutmeg, and purgatives, and then may you cry for mercy for having touched them! My righteous anger could well push me to many more imprecations, but I will stop right here and now, for I happen to be very patient.

55. That is, their thankless terms of service as purveyors, referenced more specifically in the previous loa. 56. Foods that a weak stomach reputedly could not tolerate (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 401). 57. Hard, long-lasting biscuit baked for use on long sea voyages or military campaigns and believed to function as a digestive aid.

Spiritual Coloquio of Mindless Zeal58 Characters59 The Soul Peace Sincerity Mindless Zeal [Self-Knowledge] [Self-Scorn]60 (Enter the Soul and Peace.)

I love you and I respect you like a mother and señora, and if I’ve ever gone against your desires and your orders, it’s not because adhering to them was in any way unpleasant.

I wish you’d love me as I love you.

You could be upset at me for the way I’ve failed to show proper respect for your commands. I want you to know, if you permit, there is no person alive who

SOUL

PEACE

SOUL

58. This coloquio, untitled in the surviving manuscript, is the only one of Sor Marcela’s six coloquios to lack a title. Its title here follows Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, who have dubbed it El celo indiscreto (Mindless Zeal). Indiscreto can convey stupidity, witlessness, tactlessness, indiscretion, and/or a general lack of smarts, both social and intellectual. The English “mindless” evokes the blustering, blundering qualities of this particular character. 59. In Spanish, Soul, Peace, and Sincerity are feminine nouns, while Zeal is masculine. The same gender differentiation seems to apply to the characters here: Sor Marcela portrays Zeal as an insistent, potentially violent man importuning three women who support each other in resisting and repelling him. 60. These last two non-speaking characters who appear toward the end of the play are not listed in the manuscript’s cast list. Most of Sor Marcela’s coloquios feature four characters, suggesting a generic expectation of how large the speaking ensemble would be for such performances.

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226 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX serves and respects you more than I, though in all other respects, I admit, I fall short of all others.

The many ways we make excuses!

PEACE

SOUL If loving you greatly is no mistake, then you’ll find no great mistake in me.

I wish you were more able to take the divine life path I’ve shown you. The life you lead is good, but not as safe and sound as it should be.

PEACE

SOUL With your concern and tender thoughts to guide me, Peace, I’ll go without uncertainty, misgivings, or fear. PEACE God will work great things in you, but you’re standing in His way, my dear. SOUL

All my actions are base and low, but with your guidance, I will improve.

PEACE I wish I had the skill to teach you, or the power to somehow warn you— I’m not quite sure how to tell you this, but I see you taken with a vicious friend, and this friendship threatens to undo the gains you’ve made, and put an end to the blessings you should expect. You will never properly flourish keeping such foolish company.

Four Loas and a Coloquio 227 SOUL This saintly man, my good friend Peace, is a person of great renown, and my interactions with him are founded on his reputation. Over time I have also seen how the wisest and most virtuous men follow his ways and heed his advice. PEACE Well, peace and calm will never find them: for dealing with him, that’s the price. SOUL It hurts me deeply to hear you say this, to find out that you scorn him so. He’s upstanding and he’s modest; the act of seeing him alone is edifying. A holy person would pay a million, I’m quite sure, to welcome him into her home and benefit from his rapport. PEACE Your understanding is not progressing! You fail to see the path of peace and pure tranquility to which our spirit inclines when it is based firmly in the light of truth, not darkness that obscures our steps.

Tell me, Peace, for I’ve always taken his advice to be for my best.

Soul, if you were well-advised, you’d know him by his very name. After all, he’s Mindless Zeal: those two very words proclaim why you should beware of him,

SOUL

PEACE

228 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX why you should take care to protect yourself from such enormous evil.

I’ve been fortunate so far: he’s always treated me with respect and holiness.

SOUL

PEACE And it’s not come cheap: he’s taken your sisters’ full accounts and spent them down to very little. A useless life like his amounts to nothing, like the sad lives of those arrogant and invidious men who are odious to everyone else, who tire everyone, who always offend, and who everyone despises. SOUL

The many workings of deceit! But I’ll follow you, undeceived, my Peace. so I can become a perfect being.

PEACE The upright, correct way of being consists of Peace. With me alone you’ll reach the goal for which you’re aiming. How much, Soul, you’ve still to learn! You must see shortcomings in yourself only, and, in others, only virtues, while ignoring all their defects. These are the ways of the firm, true spirit, where charity dwells in contentment.61 Foolish Zeal, of course, won’t hear it: he torments you so you won’t enjoy those gifts our God bestows on those who ignore what doesn’t concern them— 61. Here and throughout, Peace iterates the ideal virtues of the nun, thereby reminding us not only of the performance’s venue (the convent) but also of its reason for being (in this case, a taking of vows).

Four Loas and a Coloquio 229 those peaceful beings who recognize the vileness within, and who don’t poke their nose in others’ business, no matter how far from perfect or unsavory that business may be. SOUL I harm myself by worrying about other people’s imperfections and pointing these imperfections out?— I never imagined such a thing! PEACE That’s hard to achieve, learning to handle everything in its proper way, measuring the exact seasoning for each example, learning to weigh all matters correctly, and excuse them, like she who’s wise enough to know. (Enter Sincerity.) SINCERITY The señor known as Mindless Zeal asks, señora, in his somber tone, to pay a visit to the Soul.62 I’m sure that’s him, you should see the rush he’s in. How gallantly he bears himself! How gracefully he treads the ground! The old man’s lively!63

To me he seems quite tiresome due to what I’ve learned from Peace. But here he comes—I’ll keep quiet.

SOUL

62. Sincerity immediately establishes herself as a character of lower status. Like a comic servant or lady-in-waiting in a comedia, she is charged with ushering in guests and generally following the mandates of high-status Peace. 63. This initial characterization of Zeal as a viejo (“old man”) establishes him, for all his bluster and threat, as comic and hapless, like the barbas (bearded old men) of many comedias—characters who generally get outwitted by their children.

230 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX (Enter Mindless Zeal.)

I’m here to speak to the Soul about the vital matter of being holy.

ZEAL

PEACE His wild schemes are beyond belief, his machinations, always astounding. SINCERITY He’s got a sharp and capable mind, and it’s said he knows so much about human virtue and the spirit, it’s said his luminous skill is such that should he end up raising a row, he’ll fight it out with the greatest of ease. ZEAL I want to infuse you with a fiery spirit, to teach and correct you without cease, admonishing you to better things. SINCERITY Would it be such a terrible thing if prudence moderated that spirit? ZEAL And who’d be left to contemplate the world’s derangement and its sin, the astounding variety of disgrace and imperfection all around us, the vile, destructive forces we face? Who would dare tie their own hands? Who’d keep silent, having knowledge of the will of our Lord in heaven? To brood over imperfections we see —is there torment worse than this? Yesterday I went to a certain home, expecting to find great virtue present,

Four Loas and a Coloquio 231 and the only thing I found were a thousand imperfections. SINCERITY And did you get into a fight, señor? ZEAL How could I fail to make corrections? How could I not issue reprimands, having seen those defects and mistakes? SINCERITY Who put you in charge of everything? Don’t you see your presence makes them lose their peace and tranquility? ZEAL Sincerity, you’re sadly lacking in talent and ability— I’m not surprised to hear you talking such nonsense. You don’t know the path a faithful servant of the Lord must take. SINCERITY Follow that path and pretty soon you’ll stumble into a thousand mistakes: I’d be stumbling even more were I forced to follow your doctrine.

My doctrine is too rare and refined for a fool like you to understand.

ZEAL

SINCERITY Any correction that must be made, let it enter my house first, and as for what occurs, señor, inside other people’s homes— it’s not any of my business and I don’t really want to know.

232 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX ZEAL How little virtue you possess! You lack the sensitivity to know when others do themselves great harm; you lack the feeling to burn with zeal, to smolder with passion when you perceive a perdition coming on, to feel a fire when someone pursues the delight of finite things and neglects their eternal well-being? SINCERITY If my lord is wearing angel’s wings, then put your efforts into prayer instead of chilly justifications. Lock yourself away in a cell; seek to limit your conversation; in all your works, show humility; and you’ll go on to gain great things. All other efforts are in vain: I won’t fall for you and your ways. You need to be a know-it-all, you need to argue with everyone, seeing infractions all around you but never seeing them in yourself, as if you’re too good to commit them. ZEAL

If you felt as I do, then you’d protect the honor of our Lord, amen, so widely sullied by vile sinners.

Be quiet, already, Mindless Zeal, and get to know yourself for once.

PEACE

An abyss has opened in my breast, a heart that’s breaking from affliction because my brothers and sisters sin.

ZEAL

Four Loas and a Coloquio 233 SOUL Look only at your own two hands, Zeal, and what they themselves have wrought; beware of inspecting others’ faults: fear this as you fear death itself. PEACE Peace comes when you see your faults and seek forgiveness for them all.

He’s not capable of such behavior. After all, he thinks he has the right to be everyone’s personal savior. I was once the same way too. I sowed disorder everywhere, especially within myself, until, dear Peace, you lovingly showed me how to flee from Mindless Zeal.

SOUL

SINCERITY It’s true, you were well on the road to perdition and misery, upsetting others with advice you bestowed. ZEAL Can there be any worse deception? It’s wrong for me to feel my God isn’t loved as He deserves? What could be more grievous? Can there be a more outrageous display of utter disrespect for our Lord and sovereign master? For the sake of God, I’m now expected to step out of line and risk losing the glory I’ve won through heroic works? Good friends, have I lost my mind?64 64. Zeal seems to be directly addressing the audience here, reflecting Sor Marcela’s characteristic mischievous comic spirit. The metatheatricality is clear: the speakers are both characters in a play about convent virtues, and actors in a performance in that same convent.

234 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX SOUL And when did you ever have one, señor?

Moderate your tone and voice.

PEACE

SINCERITY Would you slow down these exclamations? You’re alarming all the neighbors. But that’s not new, for in your life you’ve raised more ruckus in holy orders, thrown more families into disorder, sown more dissension than there are people on earth or sands on the shore.

Would you treat Elijah this way?

ZEAL

SOUL I wouldn’t, and that’s heresy. Elijah’s zeal was thoughtful and holy: he pursued idolaters bravely.65 But you, imprudently, guess wildly at the defects of your holy brothers and sisters, prying into their virtues, painfully trying to uncover anything that’s not quite holy; then you blab it all around, worrying everyone, and yourself, and no one’s better, despite your warnings. I speak from personal experience: I once was foolish and listened to you. Oh, the tears I shed for you! I hope that others, wiser than I, use my example as their lesson before they end up carried away by surfaces, appearances; by deceit and flattery, by affectations of sanctity that zealots use to cloak deceit 65. In the Old Testament’s Books of Kings, Elijah repeatedly confronts idolaters.

Four Loas and a Coloquio 235 and even to extenuate a host of more pernicious deeds. SINCERITY

And speaking as Sincerity, I’m pained to see Mindless Zeal so sad.

Look how much I’m suffering because the Soul won’t listen to me.

To worry over others is poison: one doesn’t acquire virtue by yelling at everyone, picking fights.

ZEAL

PEACE

ZEAL That’s my misfortune, but I swear my intentions are pure and holy. I cite the zealots in the stories of the Old and New Testaments, rightly celebrated for their glory. Take Phineas,66 for example, famed for his zeal. Who’ll deny he was great for killing two lovers with one swift sword? SINCERITY For God’s sake, Sir Mindless One, don’t go citing tragedies from fifty thousand years ago. Tell us of the compassionate ones, the tranquil, humble, fervent women who never look into others’ lives but look only into themselves. If in doubt, it’s safer to judge others holy, and oneself a sinner. Experience shows that foolish zeal 66. Phineas: grandson of Aaron who, in Numbers 25, follows Moses’s orders to do away with disloyal sinners by killing two lovers—a man and pregnant woman—with a single thrust of his spear; his vigilante action saves Israel from the plague. Traditionally invoked as the embodiment of zeal.

236 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX never lifts the human conscience but, rather, leaves it in ruins. PEACE And best intentions, lacking prudence, recklessly undertaken, have led to more raving madness than a madman could ever blabber. ZEAL

I care little about what you’ve said for I have total faith in my word, I have no doubts I’m on the right path: If we love God, and God is good, how can we fail to make sure we’re serving Him as we should?

SINCERITY Then be gone. Ascend to heaven. Down here in this mortal world, we’re faced with so many challenges, we’ll always somehow be falling short. If in your goodness, you believe you’re above all imperfection, then the only thing I can say, with all my heart and all my soul, is you’re uttering utter lies.

I’m not saying that I’m good but rather that my good intentions do me good because they fly straight to restoring God’s honor.

It’s your own honor needs restoring. God is truly glorified when we love Him silently, when we obey Him patiently, silently, and thus slowly lay a foundation made of honor.

ZEAL

SOUL

Four Loas and a Coloquio 237 ZEAL Talking to one who can’t understand is the same as not talking at all! Exalted matters go over the heads of those who are short in natural gifts, such as present company. SINCERITY

I take that as a compliment. May these gifts last me a thousand years!

SOUL Don’t talk that way. You’ll offend Peace, and even do yourself dishonor— after all, you are Sincerity.

I was joking …

SINCERITY

PEACE In these matters, one shouldn’t make the slightest joke. It can put you in a bad light.

What you say is preposterous. I hope this Soul, so sadly deceived, can be vanquished by my truth. Let me sweet-talk her a little— even if it seems wrong to me, for generally the best approach is rigidity and severity.

ZEAL

SINCERITY He’s going to sweet-talk you, Soul.

Probably with some kind of stick. I’ll use Peace to fend him off, may she be with me always:

SOUL

238 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX I’m done with all this worrying about others’ virtue or vice, if they’re diligent or full of sloth— what they do is not my concern. I have one business, and that’s myself, as if God himself and I were the only people in this world. Who asked me to care for the souls of my brothers and my sisters? They may be well, they may be sick, but I’ll take care of my own spirit and rule over my own health, and if I achieve what I strive to attain, my prayers for everyone’s well-being will have their desired effect. ZEAL Why do you resist my advice? Why do you sneer at me this way? You yourself will pay the price. Why treat me with such disdain when I always strove to make you as perfect and holy as you could be? You’re losing fervor by the minute, you’re forgetting friends and neighbors, forcing me to weep over you. If you refuse to heed me, if you won’t help your own brothers, if you refuse to exhort others and issue severe reprimands, then you’ve lost the ground you gained when we two were together, doing God’s business, garnering riches. SOUL Peace will reprimand, but I’m forced to argue. Tell me, fool, tell me, cruel man, what did I gain when I lived with you? Was I happy for a single day? I lived in a constant state of unease, suffering your zeal and your worries,

Four Loas and a Coloquio 239 these dreamed-up virtues of yours that turned out to have no substance. SINCERITY

Yes, all your stubborn behavior— was there any convent or cloister, a single home or hospital, where people were happy to open the door? All these schemes you spin with speech, all your ridiculous fantasies, all your mindless blundering— if only I could forget it all: the fool who fixes for a fight, a madman totally full of himself!

SOUL I’m enraged, thinking about the harm you’ve inflicted on the world with your zeal and mindless raving. Thank God I’ve learned a thing or two or I’d be raving just the same. Now I know never to touch on things that don’t touch me directly. PEACE All art and knowledge serve the purpose of attaining tranquility, that state revered by the saintly, who, solely for tranquility’s sake, see themselves as low and base. Always be awake to this: you are worse than all others, and all others, better than you. Keeping this low self-estimation, knowing this one thing to be true, you’ll soar as high as you desire, you’ll exceed the greatest heights, you’ll join the loftiest company there is, and live there without fear of ever falling—that is, as long as you are still residing

240 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX in your tomb of nothingness, abjectly buried in this knowledge, unmoved by the vanity of the world and all its ways. And in this way, others shall soar: you’ll learn to take the greatest pleasure in the act of praising others, and by avoiding that fool called Zeal, everything that others do will always seem quite good to you. SINCERITY Amen forever, you’ve preached with fervor: blessed be He who led me to you.

He meant to do us a great good.

I happen to have good information that chaos is brewing in an abbey that will lead to consternation.

SOUL

ZEAL

SINCERITY Who’s the source of such woeful news?

My spirit itself is the source— that, and my burning love for my fellow brothers and sisters.

It’s certainly true you never waver in suffering uselessly for others.

Did the prior consent to all this? Jesus, he must have no zeal at all! May God give him an iron fist to rule over those unruly friars!

ZEAL

PEACE

ZEAL

Four Loas and a Coloquio 241 As for the lay-brother, he deserves death or at least life imprisonment.67 SINCERITY Have these upsetting things been seen? You seem to be the only one privy. ZEAL He’s on the cusp of it; once he’s done it, the young man is finished. What’s more, he intends to flee from punishment. SINCERITY Wait a moment. Soul: what do you say? SOUL This sad reasoning needs punishment or at least imprisonment right away. ZEAL And the poor husband? Selling his paltry merchandise, and his wife refuses to spin her flax or do her sewing! Who’s not sickened by these abuses? A master must correct a servant!

I suppose a cat must also be corrected for all its mistakes?

SINCERITY

The perfect opportunity was lost for the abbess to rebuke that nun.68 Now she’s gone to the devil.

ZEAL

67. Zeal initiates a series of scattershot accusations. Since the objects of Zeal’s scorn are not present in the text, it is easy to imagine the original performer interacting with audience members (perhaps recognizable guests and members of the community), to obvious comic effect. 68. Shift back to assonance.

242 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX SINCERITY May she take you along with her! But of course you’re above all fault.

I’m losing patience, I’m tied down, I can’t expound as I had hoped. Well, to hell with all of you! The only things left here on earth are my zeal and my love for you.

ZEAL

SINCERITY What a place, this dark, sad earth, when you’re the only one to defend it, when you’re our last resort and hope. PEACE Madness like his can only be cured with grave punishment or strong medicine. SOUL How do we cure this fearsome danger, this virulent leprosy of his that infects every person he meets? SINCERITY Were we to gather Avicenna, Asclepius, Hippocrates, and even great Galen himself,69 and were they to diagnose endlessly, and prescribe countless remedies, they’d never cure a sickness like his: his suffering comes from so deep within. SOUL

So, in the end, what’s to be done? Do we want him to lose what sense he’s got? 69. Avicenna: medieval Persian philosopher and physician, synonymous in Golden Age Spain with the learned practice of medicine. Asclepius: Greek god of medicine and healing. Hippocrates: ancient Greek physician seen as the father of medicine. Galen: renowned Roman physician and medical researcher.

Four Loas and a Coloquio 243 PEACE I’ll try my cure. Not for him— he’s so stubborn, he’s beyond hope: we’d discredit ourselves by trying, not to mention waste our time. No, we need to bid him farewell, expel him from here once and for all. I’ll tell you shortly about my plan to finally bring us some peace and calm. SINCERITY Look how wrapped in thought he is, inventing wild fantasies. He doesn’t see us, doesn’t hear us: God must find this very sad. ZEAL Yes, yes, the best thing for me to do is go to war, check on the soldiers: are they heeding their captain’s orders? In the army, one cannot permit the slightest disobedience.

Now he’s gone from mad to raving!

What remarkable suspicions!

PEACE

SOUL

SINCERITY This is what we get for not having punished the poor man in the first place for these wild passions of his. We accepted his good intentions instead of giving him the guidance that you, Peace, were offering him with such loving affection. PEACE Such compassion has never been seen.

244 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX SINCERITY I’d like to humor him a while. Let’s enjoy this harmless pleasure; after all, we’ve had to endure his hurly-burly for so long.

What justification can you have for having missed the early mass?70

Who is that terrible Christian, so lax in his obligations?

ZEAL

SINCERITY

You had better honor the Lord! This fellow’s been running a place of worship for fourteen years: he used to be a decent man.

ZEAL

SINCERITY How evil, how outrageous! But tell me: how did you find out?

A certain servant told me— my kind of servant, zealous and holy. He always tells me what’s going on inside other people’s homes.

ZEAL

SINCERITY

How miraculous! He can tell what neighbors do behind closed doors?

He has his ways of finding out.

He must be uncommonly wise.

ZEAL

SINCERITY

70. Again, Zeal appears to be directly addressing an audience member.

Four Loas and a Coloquio 245 ZEAL

Of course he is: he works with me.

I hope to be that wise one day.

SINCERITY

ZEAL You are very simple and plain, and I’m not convinced you’re speaking with love and candor. I’m so unlucky, and so everyone despises me! PEACE The more he raves, the more time we waste.

Leave him, while he’s here with us, he’s not bothering anyone else, and we’ll at least avoid a fight.

SOUL

You’re making it so we can’t celebrate the solemnities of our Church in a decent, reverent way. I can’t bear it, I’m going to write His Holiness this very minute!

ZEAL

SINCERITY Who’s trying your patience now, and shaking your great solemnity?

A great evil has been perpetrated in a small village not very far from our illustrious court.71 Some lovely organs that were to be played at a religious feast were sadly somehow left exposed

ZEAL

71. The “court” is Madrid. For all its allegory, the play insistently conflates its abstract setting with the actual milieu of its performance.

246 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX and ended up covered with dust. SINCERITY God help me, what a disgrace! There’s no getting over a loss like that.

Now he’s bouncing off the walls. May God restore your brains again, and, we pray, strengthen our own.

I don’t know what’s to be done.

PEACE

SOUL

SINCERITY I’ve a plan. Isn’t it said that Madrid has a very good madhouse? Let’s send him in that direction. PEACE

Even though he’s out of his head, he’ll still end up fighting with them. Leave those madmen to their misery and disgrace, which would only increase in his company.

You’re right: even a madman would be aggrieved to meet a zealot crazier than he.

SOUL

SINCERITY So what are we going to do about this? Is there no place a man of such gifts can be put away forever? PEACE He’s got so many, you could go leagues and never find the place we seek. Who would ever take him in?

Four Loas and a Coloquio 247 Who would want him by their side? The very moment he walked in the door, he would start an argument, pointing out their shortcomings. SOUL Even if none were to be found. Even if they were well-composed models of utter moderation, they still would feel be strict rebuke Married or unmarried, monks or nuns— he ends up in heated debate about whether you’re observant enough. And if you are indeed perfectly exacting in your observance, he harasses all the same. If you pray, you’re praying badly. If you don’t pray—well, that’s worse. Everything ends up in contention, and nothing leaves him contented. SINCERITY So what do we with your Reverence? Mindless Zeal, won’t you please give us some needed advice? Nobody wants to take you in, and now we’re in an awkward place: you have no one left to fight with, and our heads are getting sick from all your worrying and pain. Tell us what you think can be done,72 help us find someone who will put up with you, who will listen— someone willing to undertake this great penance for your sake. ZEAL

You ask this to man of my gifts? The world must be coming to an end!

72. A word is missing in the manuscript here; the suggested correction, as given in Arenal and Sabat de Rivers (387), has been followed.

248 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX The signs are clear (although what virtue now endures is nothing new): they point to the Final Judgment: no one defers to Zeal anymore, no one respects that ardent spirit who stands first in his observance, who does his duty by deeply feeling every offense to the name of God; no one reveres this man for whom Elijah is the prototype; this descendant of the great Mattathias73 and Phineas. SINCERITY Congratulations on these relations! With such blood in your veins, no doubt you’ll want mankind to perish. What an honor it must be to hail from such nobility!

She’s really digging us a hole.

Now the war is bound to start.

SOUL

SINCERITY

ZEAL Soul would throw me out of her home? She intends to live without me? She is sure to be lost this way: without Zeal, who’ll relieve her pain?74 PEACE What a trial for her—no more quarrels.

73. Jewish priest who played a central role in the Maccabean revolt; he slew a fellow Jew who worshiped a Greek idol. 74. There is a minor ambiguity in reading a word in the manuscript here; the translation follows Arenal and Sabat de Rivers (350).

Four Loas and a Coloquio 249

And no more of the glorious reward the zealous gain for themselves.

ZEAL

PEACE Better said, those rewards get lost from being constantly worried. But now I’ve come to a decision— I am, after all, the one and true Peace: You’re no longer welcome in this home, the Soul can no longer maintain you. And there’s no reply you can make that would have the slightest impact: I’ve thought it over carefully, and I am firmly resolved. So when would you like to go? I can arrange your journey right now so you can leave with some dignity. SINCERITY If you’d like a coach, a horse, a mule, a stretcher, take your choice because we stand ready to give our lord whatever transport he desires so he never comes back here again.

I’ll go by post-horse to swiftly reach that land that finds itself in need of someone to zealously guard it.

ZEAL

SINCERITY Sounds like you’re the perfect man. I’m sure that land is thirsty for a good hard beating with harsh, dry words.

It hungers for my severe correction: not everyone’s so ungrateful as to despise the man who’s bold enough to impose corrections.

ZEAL

250 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX SINCERITY Good for you! May you be off to Ethiopia and Barbary to impose them by the bushel!75 If you must do charitable work, then ask the Great Turk to adjust the angle of his royal turban; take great pains so Prester John refrains from immodest laughter; see to it that Great Tamburlaine genuflects with requisite precision.76 And if they don’t follow through with proper spirit and respect, then it will be a good deed indeed to chop off all their heads at once. ZEAL I’m aware of this and greatly concerned: my tormenting zeal doesn’t miss a thing. SINCERITY Good for you! Long live your fight!— especially since nothing calls for you to fight this battle of yours.

It’s only right that he who seeks war without justification will go to his grave unhappy, miserable and unpitied.

PEACE

SOUL Oh, blessed Peace! Whoever loves you, whoever chooses to seek you out, is guided to glory by stars above. No more looking for others’ errors, 75. Ethiopia: used in the seventeenth century as a metonym for sub-Saharan Africa. Barbary: North African coast, notorious for “infidel” Moorish pirates. 76. A series of comic references to exotic, haughty rulers. Great Turk: the Sultan of Turkey, avowed enemy of Spain at the time. Prester John: in folklore, a Christian king who ruled over a magical Christian kingdom; his legend inspired European exploration of India and Africa. For Tamburlaine, see note 15.

Four Loas and a Coloquio 251 whether they be big or small: I’ll look like a lynx into my own, and never lay eyes on others’ faults. I used to be a heedless Argus77 who would never make exceptions, with few eyes for my own behavior, it was as if I had no eyes at all.

Thanks to He who in this darkness gave you light with which to see.

May He always be glorified and blessed for all eternity for this gift of seeing only my own abject misery.

PEACE

SOUL

SINCERITY You have been done no small favor. SOUL I worship this gift more than all the raptures everybody praises,78 and when I’m low enough to be worthy, I will beg, obediently, to be granted the great favor of becoming fully aware, of profoundly getting to know my own nothingness and baseness. PEACE So it is now, and so it will be, and all other paths pose great danger.

77. The hundred-eyed giant whose eyes, after his death, were put into the peacock’s tail by Juno. His story is referred to on two occasions by Panchaia in the First Interlude to Part One of Enríquez’s Tragicomedy of the Sheban Gardens and Fields. 78. Sor Marcela seems to be critiquing “supernatural” religious states then in vogue (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 350).

252 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX SINCERITY I gather today’s conversation is gnawing away at Mindless Zeal.

I’m not paying any attention! What I’m pondering, what I feel, has to do with the Jesuits: their sexton committed a grave error by not showing proper reverence— he strode by the chapel as if he were walking by his dwelling or cell.

And that torments you?

ZEAL

SINCERITY

ZEAL

It pierces my heart.

SINCERITY

With absolute justification! I’ve never heard of anything worse. Typical of these human sextons— their lack of reverence befits a Turk.

Sincerity, what are you thinking? Don’t you see, you’re causing delay? This is of utmost importance— you’re not here to be entertained.

PEACE

SINCERITY I’d do your bidding at full speed if it meant getting him to leave— in fact, I would even commence to fly.

Wait, it suddenly occurs to me he might put up some resistance. If we’re going to throw him out, we need to find two strong men.

PEACE

Four Loas and a Coloquio 253

Señora, how could he dare put up a struggle in your presence?

SOUL

PEACE Better to take every precaution: when he’s denied what he wants, he’s known to start throwing punches.

You think you can live without me? What folly! Poor Sincerity, and Poor Soul—lost forever for forsaking your brothers and sisters!

ZEAL

SINCERITY Peace, when he’s readying to leave, put yourself between us, please: I don’t want his hand to give me some sad token of affection to always remember him by. Look at me, trembling with fear, my pulse racing, picturing myself left for dead, or with a broken skull.

If Peace goes with you, Sincerity, you have no reason to be scared.79

Did you find the two strong men?

SOUL

PEACE

SINCERITY Yes, señora, they’re at the door, and itching to expel him from this land. PEACE Did you manage to find out their names? 79. There appears to be a time lapse—or at least an implied stage direction—following this line, since Sincerity needs a moment to find the two characters who are to enter.

254 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX Those names should match the task at hand. Did you find the ones I told you about? SINCERITY I did, and wish there were more to be found— I’m so scared, I need an army! What if he pulls the teeth from my mouth?80 What if he should poke out my eyes? I see my mutilated limbs being offered before the Lord,81 may He grant them His loving pardon! I gaze upon my sad cadaver, lying limply on the ground, a tasty meal for birds and beasts. Woe is me! What can I do?

Are they not coming in because they’re frightened of his ferocity?

SOUL

SINCERITY There’s no doubt, they’re very sharp: they well know that, once they’re in, they only way they can leave is by carrying off the very man who terrifies this poor woman here. PEACE It’s not for fear that they won’t enter: Self-Knowledge fears nothing except forgetting his own nothingness. As for the other, he’s quite noble; it’s not fair to say he’s scared— after all, he is Self-Scorn, and so there’s no way to offend him.

80. Possibly a sly reference to Sor Marcela’s own toothlessness, as suggested at the end of the coloquio (Arenal and Sabat de Rivers, 351). 81. A line is illegible in the manuscript here but is glossed over, following Arenal and Sabat de Rivers.

Four Loas and a Coloquio 255

One inconvenient fact prevents their taking him away.

SINCERITY

Which is?

PEACE

SINCERITY They’re both mute, from what I’ve seen of the signs they make to each other.

What does it matter, if they’re mute? They will do what’s asked of them.

PEACE

SOUL Both Self-Knowledge and Self-Scorn have perfect visions of themselves. When eyes have far-reaching wisdom, they perceive where the tongue falls short. SINCERITY Oh, to be able to see that far! If only I were blessed enough to be so gifted by our Provider!82 I’d prefer them on my plate to the finest meal that’s known. If these men whom you’ve chosen to expel him, join him as well, he’ll be healed of all his woes. ZEAL What are these woes in need of healing? You are the ones who are deeply sick, as, blindly and willfully, you exile from your home the man who defends it zealously! 82. The Spanish is Divino Provisor (Divine Provider). It is essentially the same word, however, as the feminine provisora, used to refer to those providers or “purveyors” who oversee the food at the convent and are satirized in most of Sor Marcela’s loas. The devout reference, therefore, is also a joke about food.

256 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX SINCERITY More endless babbling, señoras: we just need a little more patience.

It’s not for myself I feel this pain; rather, I’m pained by your disgrace, but I am anxiously awaited in many other places, señoras.

They must be anxiously awaiting their own imminent martyrdom.

ZEAL

SINCERITY

PEACE I see you’re stubborn, no hope of change, and so I now pronounce my sentence: Sincerity, take down what I say; and as for you, Soul, be attentive. SINCERITY Here’s the inkwell and feather-pen so my hand can swiftly record a sentence of such clear justice.

Let it be written that Mindless Zeal be exiled to the most remote and inhospitable islands, and never again be allowed to dwell among people of good judgment.

A harsh penalty but a just one.

It would be harsh had I not the skill to enlighten those I meet.

PEACE

SOUL

ZEAL

Four Loas and a Coloquio 257 SINCERITY You mean, to turn them into fools. PEACE

To continue without delay: he must never enter a convent, or set foot inside a monastery, or even dare lay eyes on one.

ZEAL

That will have no effect on me— I am beyond all need of doors: when monks and nuns find themselves in need of me, they always find me, even if I’ve left this world forever.

SOUL

There’s a way out of everything.

I pray he finds it, for all his fears are figments of his imagination. Don’t write more—he’s now heard everything he needs to know. These two men can take him away. In fact, they can do away with him, seeing as he can’t be changed.

Can they come in?

They are welcome.

PEACE

SINCERITY

PEACE

SINCERITY They may be mute but they’re not deaf.

Obedience is never deaf. Come in, señores.

SOUL

258 SOR MARCELA DE SAN FÉLIX (Enter Self-Knowledge and Self-Scorn, making signals to each other as if mute.) SOUL

How lively they step!

PEACE Seize that man and get him out of here.

I’ll leave without your dragging me: I’m sick of it here, and happy to go where I can argue passionately about all the evil that I see.

ZEAL

SINCERITY Do you see how he’s getting better? PEACE

Out of here at once!

I’m blessed to go, and those I leave are left distressed, blind to all their ways of sin, succumbing to evil without a fight.

We’d go without our dinner before it ever came to that.

ZEAL

SINCERITY

PEACE We’ve kept you waiting long enough: I ask your reverences’ pardon. (The men who entered carry off Mindless Zeal.)

Sor Marcela asks your pardon

SOUL

Four Loas and a Coloquio 259 for this coloquio’s imperfections.83 She spoke it without a tooth in her mouth. PEACE She wrote it with a pounding headache— the poor girl’s getting old and feeble. SINCERITY All she wants is to love and serve you, though she is always deeply worried that her service is imperfect. PEACE May heaven guard and perfect us all, And, dear mothers, may Mindless Zeal never be seen anywhere among us!

For the glory of God and his blessed mother. Today, 11 September 1659. Written in the novitiate for a sister taking her vows.

83. Arenal and Sabat de Rivers read this line as confirming that Peace would have been played by Sor Marcela herself, a likely supposition given that the character’s status conforms to what we know of Sor Marcela’s position in the convent at the time this play was written, when she was 54 years old (351).

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262 Bibliography __________. “Valor, agravio y mujer y El conde Partinuplés de Ana Caro: Una Edición Crítica.” Edited by María José Delgado. Ph.D. diss., University of Arizona, 1993. Sor Marcela de San Félix Marcela de San Félix, Sor. “Coloquios and Loas.” In Apuntes para una biblioteca de escritoras españolas desde el año 1401 al 1833, edited by Manuel Serrano y Sanz, vol. 2, 238–92. Madrid: Rivadeneira, 1903. __________. Los coloquios del Alma: Cuatro dramas alegóricos de Sor Marcela de San Félix, hija de Lope de Vega. Edited by Susan M. Smith and Georgina Sabat de Rivers. Newark, DE: Juan de la Cuesta, 2006. __________. Literatura conventual femenina: Sor Marcela de San Félix, hija de Lope de Vega. Obra completa. Coloquios espirituales, loas y otros poemas. Edited with an introduction by Electa Arenal and Georgina Sabat de Rivers. Prologue by José María Díez Borque. Barcelona: Promociones y Publicaciones Universitarias, 1988. __________. “Entreactos de Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán y Loas de Sor Marcela de San Félix.” In Dramaturgas barrocas, teatro breve, edited by Julio Vélez Sainz and Gemma Rodríguez Ibarra. Madrid: El Corpus Digital de Teatro Breve Español (CORTBE), 2015. . __________. Sor Marcela de San Félix de Lope de Vega y Luján: Obra poética completa. Edited by José Ramírez Nuño and Clara Isabel Delgado Ramírez. Córdoba: Monte de Piedad y Caja de Ahorros de Córdoba, 1987. Smith, Susan M. “The Colloquies of Sor Marcela de San Félix and the Tradition of Sacred Allegorical Drama.” Ph.D. diss., University of Virginia, 1998.

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266 Bibliography Hume, Martin. Queens of Old Spain. New York: McClure, Phillips, and Co., 1906. Jaffary, Nora, ed. Gender, Race, and Religion in the Colonization of the Americas. Aldershot, England, and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2007. Kostroun, Daniella, and Lisa Vollendorf, eds. Women, Religion, and the Atlantic World (1600–1800). Toronto: University of Toronto Press, in association with the UCLA Center for Seventeenth- and Eighteenth-Century Studies and the William Andrews Clark Memorial Library, 2009. Larson, Catherine. “ ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’: Gender, Voice, and Identity in Women-Authored Comedias.” In Identity, Gender, and Representation in Spain’s Golden Age, edited by Anita K. Stoll and Dawn L. Smith, 127–41. Lewisburg, PA: Bucknell University Press, 2000. Lavrin, Asunción, and Rosalva Loreto López. Monjas y beatas: La escritura femenina en la espiritualidad barroca novohispana: siglos XVII y XVIII. Puebla, México: Archivo General de la Nación / Universidad de las Américas, 2002. Lehfeldt, Elizabeth. Religious Women in Early Modern Spain: The Permeable Cloister. Aldershot, England, and Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2005. Luna, Lola. “Ana Caro, una escritora ‘de oficio’ del Siglo de Oro.” Bulletin of Hispanic Studies 72, no. 1 (1995): 11–26. Maravall, José Antonio. La cultura del Barroco. Barcelona: Ariel, 1975. McKendrick, Melveena. Woman and Society in the Spanish Drama of the Golden Age: A Study of the mujer varonil. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1974. Merrim, Stephanie. Early Modern Women’s Writing and Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz. Nashville: Vanderbilt University Press, 1999. Montoto de Sedas, Santiago. Doña Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán. Sevilla: Imprenta de la Diputación provincial, 1915. Nader, Helen, ed. Power and Gender in Renaissance Spain: Eight Women of the Mendoza Family, 1450–1650. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2004. Pellicer, Casiano. Tratado histórico sobre el origen y progresos de la comedia y del histrionismo en España. Vol. 2. Madrid: Imprenta de la Administración del Real Arbitrio de Beneficiencia, 1804. Pérez, Louis C., ed. The Dramatic Works of Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán. Vol. 48. Valencia: Albatros Hispanófila, 1988. Perry, Mary Elizabeth. Gender and Disorder in Early Modern Seville. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1990. Poska, Allyson M. Women and Authority in Early Modern Spain: The Peasants of Galicia. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2005. Ribadeneyra, Pedro de. Tratado de Tribulación [1589]. 2 vols. in one. Palma: Imprenta y Librería de Estevan Trías, 1846. Romero-Díaz, Nieves. Nueva nobleza, nueva novela: Reescribiendo la cultura urbana del barroco. Newark, DE: Juan de la Cuesta, 2002.

Bibliography 267 Rosa Cubo, Cristina de la. “Transgresiones de género y parodia mítica en Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán.” In Vivir al margen: Mujer, poder e institución literaria, edited by María Pilar Celma Valero and Mercedes Rodríguez Pequeño, 197–206. Burgos: Instituto Castellano y Leonés de la Lengua, 2009. Rozas, Juan Manuel. Significado y doctrina del arte nuevo de Lope de Vega. Madrid: Sociedad General Española de Librería, 1976. Ruiz, M. Reina. “Cervantes, Góngora y Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán: Voces discordantes de la monarquía cómica.” In Cuatrocientos años del “Arte nuevo de hacer comedias” de Lope de Vega: actas selectas del XIV Congreso de la Asociación Internacional de Teatro Español y Novohispano de los Siglos de Oro: Olmedo, 20 al 23 de julio de 2009, edited by Germán Vega Garcia-Luengos and Héctor Urzáiz Tortajada, vol. 2, 929–36. Valladolid: Secretariado de Publicaciones e Intercambio Editorial, 2010. __________. “Entreactos de la Tragicomedia de los jardines y campos sabeos: Galería cómica de monstruos y deformes.” Hispania 87, no. 4 (2004): 665–74. __________. Monstruos, mujer y teatro en el Barroco: Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán, primera dramaturga española. Currents in Comparative Romance Languages and Literatures 141. New York: Peter Lang, 2005. __________. “De orgía y bacanal a sátira política: Entreactos de la segunda parte de los Jardines y campos sabeos de Feliciana Enríquez de Guzmán.” Bulletin of the Comediantes 57, no. 1 (2005): 107–24. Ruiz Pérez, Pedro. “El espacio de la representación: El corral, signo social.” In El espacio de la escritura: En torno a una poética del espacio del texto barroco, edited by Pedro Ruiz Pérez, 119–55. Bern: Peter Lang, 1996. Salvi, Marcella. “ ‘Vasalla siendo señora y esclava siendo dueño’: Conflicto político-sexual en El conde Partinuplés y La reina Juana de Napoles.” In Escenas en conflicto: El teatro español e italiano desde los márgenes del Barroco, edited by Marcella Salvi, 72–86. New York: Peter Lang, 2005. Salvo, Mimma de. “La mujer en la práctica escenénica de los Siglos de Oro: La búsqueda de un espacio profesional.” Ph.D. diss., Universitat de València, 2006. < . Samson, Alexander. “Distinct Drama? Female Dramatists in Golden Age Spain.” In A Companion to  Spanish Women’s Studies, edited by Xon de Ros and Geraldine Hazbun, 157–72. Woodbridge, England: Tamesis Books, 2011. Serrano y Sanz, Manuel. Apuntes para una biblioteca de escritoras españolas desde el año 1401 al 1833. 2 vols. Madrid: Rivadeneira, 1903–5. Smith, Susan M., and Georgina Sabat de Rivers, eds. Los coloquios del Alma: Cuatro dramas alegóricos de Sor Marcela de San Félix, hija de Lope de Vega. Newark, DE: Juan de la Cuesta, 2006.

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Index Castillo Solórzano, Alonso, 24, 90 Cátedra, Pedro, 5n9 cazuela, 8, 14 Charles II, 15n27, 16 Cervantes, Miguel de, 10, 127n51 city as a theatrical site, 11–13 coloquios, 13, 194, 197 comedias de capa y espada, 10–11 definition of, 2, 14n24, 34 minor genres, 9–10 themes, 10, 16 verse, 98 See also Arte nuevo de hacer comedias en este tiempo; corrales; entremeses; loas; mojigangas; and also under women and Golden Age Spanish theater Conde Partinuplés (Count Partinuplés), 23, 25, 92 influence of Partonopeus de Blois, 97 plot summary, 97–98 verse form, 98 convents, 1, 3–6, 11–13, 15, 17–18, 25–26, 47n46, 92, 94 education in, 4–5 life in, 3–4, 5, 12 as theatrical sites, 11–13 women writers in, 13, 18, 25–26 See also Marcela de San Félix Córdoba, María de (Amarilis or la Gran Sultana), 15, 18 corral de comedias, 10, 11, 13–14, 31, 90 Corral de la Cruz, 8, 14 Corral del Príncipe, 8 description, 2, 7–9 See also under women and Golden Age Spanish theater Correa, Isabel, 19 Cotarelo y Mori, Emilio, 9n15, 16n34

academias, 6, 91, 209n26 Acevedo, Ángela de, 19 Antonio, Nicolás, 19n41, 20n1 Arenal, Electa, xi, 3n5, 5n11, 12n21, 28 Aristotelian ideals, 7 Arte nuevo de hacer comedias en este tiempo (New Art of Writing Comedias in These Times), 6–7, 31 attitudes toward female actors, 2, 15–17 Austria, Don Juan José de, 14 auto sacramental, 11–13, 23, 91 autos-de-fe, 12 Baltasara, Francisca (La Baltasara), 15–17 Baranda, Consolación, 3n4 Baranda Leturio, Nieves, 3n5, 5n9 Barbeito Carneiro, Isabel, 18n41 Barca, Calderón de la, 6, 10–12, 92, 97, 105n20 Barrera y Leirado, Cayetano de la, 24n46, 31 Bilinkoff, Jodi, 4n8, 5n11 Bolaños Donoso, Piedad, 30n2, 30n3, 30n4 Borbón, Isabel de, Queen, 10, 13–14, 14n24 Boyle, Catherine, xi Buen Retiro, Palace and Coliseo, 10–11, 91 Calderón, María (La Calderona), 14–15 Camacho, Clara, 15 capa y espada. See under comedias Caro Mallén, Ana, 1n1, 6, 19, 23–28 biographical note, 90–92 passim, 30, 89–98 Caro, Rodrigo, 90 Carvajal, Luisa de, 3n5 Carvajal y Saavedra, Mariana de, 18, 23 Castilla, Alberto, 16n30, 17 269

270 Index Council of Trent, 12 Count-Duke of Olivares, 15n27, 91n6 Counter Reformation (or Catholic Reformation), 2–3, 5, 12 cross-dressing on stage. See under women and Golden Age Spanish theater Cruz, Anne J., xi, 3n4, 3n5, 5n9, 91n7 Cueva y Silva, Leonor de la, 19 Davis, Charles, 8n14 Deleito y Piñuela, José, 14, 15n27, 17n36 Delgado, María José, 90n2 Doménech, Fernando, 1n1, 19n41, 24n45, 28, 30n1, 31n5 Downey, Kirstin, 5n10 Duarte, J. Enrique, 12n19 Duque de Sessa, 194 Egual y Miguel, María, 20 Enríquez de Guzmán, Feliciana, 6, 20, 24–26 biographical note, 30–31 passim, 27–28, 29–34 Tragicomedia de los jardines y campos sabeos (Tragicomedy of the Sheban Gardens and Fields), 24, 31, 34, 35n7 entr’acts. See entremeses entremeses, 10, 25, 27, 31, 34 Escabias, Juana, 90n1, 90n4, 91n6 Felipe II, 7 Felipe III, 7, 14 Felipe IV, 3n4, 10, 14, 24, 31, 113n30, 194 female actors. See under women and Golden Age Spanish theater female friendship, 1n2, 91 Ferreira de la Cerda, Bernarda, 20 Ferrer Valls, Teresa, 1n1, 15n29, 17, 18n39, 18n40 Fink de Backer, Stephanie, 3n3 Francis of Assisi, (Saint), 4n6

García Santo-Tomás, Enrique, 7n13 Golden Age Spanish theater, 1–26, 97 difference with English theater, 2, 16 gracioso, 7, 99n11, 125n45 Greer, Allan, 5n11 Gregoria de Santa Teresa, Sor, 20 Grossman, Edith, xi Guevara, María, 3n4 Gutiérrez Arranz, Lidia, 14n25 Habsburg empire, 1–2, 3n4, 6, 18 Hegstrom, Valerie, xi, 1n1 Hernández, Rosilie, 5n9, 91n7 Howe, Elizabeth Teresa, 4n7, 5n9 Hume, Martin, 14n24 humor, 1, 194, 197, 206n18, 206n19 humors, 139n63, 200n8 Inquisition, 2, 9, 12, 199n5 interludes. See entremeses Isidore of Seville, 221n47 Jaffary, Nora, 5n11 Juana Inés de la Cruz, Sor, 13, 18, 20 Juana Maldonado y Paz, Sor, 22 Juana María, Sor, 22 Kaminsky, Amy, 91n5 King, Margaret L., xi Kostroun, Daniella, 5n11 Larson, Catherine, xi, 1n1 Lavrin, Asunción, 5n9 Lehfeldt, Elizabeth, 3n5 Lemmens, Cheryl, xi León, Fray Luis de, 4 life in early modern Spain, 7, 11–12 loas, 9, 91, 195, 197, 200n8, 206n16, 206n18, 213n30, 255n82 López, Francisca, 18 Loreto López, Rosalva, 5n9 Luján, Micaela, 194 Luna, Lola, 23n43, 28, 91n5, 99n10

Index 271 Madrid, 6, 7, 8, 10, 12–14, 18, 24, 90, 91, 194 magic and witchcraft, 27, 97–98, 108, 112, 127n52, 132n55, 135n58, 153n76, 176n106, 178n108, 250n76 Maravall, José Antonio, 14n26 Marcela de San Felix, Sor, 5–6, 23–25, 26, 28, 193–97 biographical note, 194 María do Céu, Sor, 23 Marín Pina, María Carmen, 3n5 masculinity, 26 McKendrick, Melveena, 16, 17n35 Mendoza, Francisco de, 91 Mendoza family, 3n4, 3n5 Meneses, Juana Josefa, 23 Merrim, Stephanie, 5n11 mojigangas, 10 mujer varonil. See under women and Golden Age Spanish theater Mujica, Bárbara, xi, 94 music, 9, 42–43, 59–62, 64, 71, 134, 135n58, 188–89, 194, mythology, 10, 24–25, 34, 36n11, 39n20, 59n70, 67n84, 75n95, 97, 140n65 Nader, Helen, 3n4 Navas, María de, 16n33, 18 Nevares, Marta de, 194 Ovid, 34, 59n65, 63n76, 78n102, 79n105 palace theater, 10–11, 13, 14, 31 Alcázar de Madrid, 10 Palacio de la Zarzuela, 10 Palacio Real del Pardo, 10–11 See also Buen Retiro, Palace and Coliseo Pasto, David, xi Pellicer, Casiano, 16n33 Pérez de Montalbán, Juan, 18 Perry, Mary Elizabeth, 3n3

Plaza Mayor in Madrid, 12 Poska, Allyson M., 3n3 Powell, Amanda, xi, 3n5 public theaters. See corral de comedias Rabil, Albert, xi relaciones, 91 Ribadeneyra, Father Pedro de, 16 Riquelme, María de, 15 Rojo, Anastasio, 5n9 Romero-Díaz, Nieves, 3n3, 3n4 Rozas, Juan Manuel, 7n13 Ruano, Margarita, 23 Ruiz, Miguel, 17 Ruiz Pérez, Pedro, 8n14 Sabat de Rivers, Georgina, xi, 3n5 Salvo, Mimma de, 15n28, 15n29, 17n38, 18n39 Samson, Alexander, 1n1, 1n2 Schlau, Stacey, xi, 3n5, 5n11 Serrano y Sanz, Manuel, 18n41 Seville, 23–25, 30–31, 34, 54n58, 90–92, 97 Shakespeare, 6, 25, 27 Silva, Isabel de, 23 silvas, 104n17, 147n73, 152n75 Simerka, Barbara, xi Smith, Dawn, 1n1 Smith, Susan M., xi, 3n5 Soufas, Teresa S., xi, 1n1, 24n45, 28, 65n80, 67n84, 78n99, 79n104, 90n3 Souza e Mello, Beatriz de, 23 Souza, Juana Teodora de, 23 stagecraft and special effects, 7, 10–11, 97. See also magic and witchcraft Stampino, Maria Galli, 3n4 Stoll, Anita, 1n1 Surtz, Ronald E., 5n10 Tassis, Don Juan de, 14 teatro del Siglo de Oro. See Golden Age Spanish theater Teresa de Ávila, Saint, 4–5

272 Index Tirso de Molina, 6 translation, 27–28, 37n16, 40n24, 42n33, 54n59, 63n76, 83n109, 99n10, 104n17, 121n38, 135n57, 147n71, 147n73, 248n74 Valbuena Prat, Ángel, 6n12 Valladolid, 7 Valor, agravio y mujer (Valor, Offense, and Woman), 1n1, 24–25, 90–92 Varey, John, 8n14 Vega y Carpio, Lope de, 6–8, 10, 14, 24–25, 30–31, 35n9, 104n17, 194, 197, 200n6, 202, 204, 221 Velasco, Sherry, 17n35 Velázquez, Diego de, 34 Vélez de Guevara, Luis, 14, 24, 90, 92 Vicente, Gil, 30n1 villancicos, 194 Vives, Juan Luis, 4 Vollendorf, Lisa, 1n1, 3n3, 5n9, 5n10, 5n11 Weber, Alison, 4n8 Weissberger, Barbara, 5n10 Williamsen, Amy, xi, 1n1 women and Golden Age Spanish theater, 13–14 as audience, 13–14 as autoras, 17–18 cross-dressing on stage, 16–17, 197 as empresarias, 17–18 as female actors, 14–17 as mujer varonil, 16 as playwrights, 1, 18–24, 26 women in early modern Spain, 2–3 education, 5 Ibero-American Atlantic connection, 5 women writers in early modern Spain, 1, 5–6, 26 Zabaleta, Juan de, 9 Zayas y Sotomayor, María de, 6, 23, 90 as Ana Caro’s friend, 91

Zuese, Alicia, 91n7