Del plato a la boca (Colección Algarabía) (Spanish Edition)

Whatever might be the ground of coolness, it did not last ; and Cervantes certainly bore no malice, for in this very poem we are assured that, out of the nine laureate wreaths adjudged by Apollo, three went to Naples; on whose brows to be placed may be easily conjectured. The Prologue is distinguished by its oracular bre- vity ; and for obvious reasons.

To venture upon a critical review ofexisting poets was not only a novelty, but, as Cervantes well knew, a very hazardous under- taking. Just thirty years before he had attempted a similar ungrateful task in his Canto de Caliope, inserted in the Galatea, and the result, though his eulogies were uniform and unbounded, was not satisfactory.

He felt that it would be true now, as it was then: Some scowl on me, because I put them in, Others resolve, because I left them out, To make me feel the burden of my sin. The best way, therefore, was to say little ; and in a single ingeniously-worded sentence he contrives to convey the idea, that the compliments about to be bestowed were of such doubtful quality, that those excluded might hold themselves equally lucky with the elect. To be called a Homer or a Tasso might, under certain circumstances, be quite as depressing as to be ignored altogether. Even in the praises heaped on such men as Gongora, Herrera, and Lope de Vega, we do not feel sure that a " pinch or two of salt" is not mingled with the abounding sugar of compliment.

That to Quevedo, however, seems as heartily sincere, as it is humorously conceived. It is this peculiar quality of Cervantic satire that makes the rendering of those crisp little sentences of praise 'Translator s Preface. To miss the point of a single word may alter the complexion of the whole.

The Sonnet almost explains itself. It is the utte- rance of Cervantes, for the time being lonely and isolated. There is a certain ring of defiance in it intended for his enemies, and just a shade of melan- choly protest against the coldness of his friends. In curious corroboration of this, it is worth remem- bering that just at this very time July, the spurious Don Quixote was passing through the press, and Avellaneda whoever he might be was giving the last caustic touches to his infamous preface, wherein occur these words: Everyone knows how this anonymous libeller was absolutely extinguished by merciless laughter, in Cervantes' preface to the second part of his Don Quixote.

The Sonnet, however, was suppressed while the editio princeps was passing through the xlvi Translator's Preface. A floral woodcut supplies the place of the cancelled lines. Whether his own better second thoughts, or the advice of friends, conduced to this end, we know not ; but certain it is that the Sonnet was reprinted in none of the subsequent editions, and passed out of the knowledge of Spanish critics. It found its proper place for the first time in the collected edition of Cervantes' works, ; and the notes of Sr.

Barrera give an account of the collation he made of various copies of the poem in Madrid, establishing the above facts. The British Museum has two copies of the original edition, both of which contain the Sonnet. In the sonnetless copies the catch-word for it still remains at the bottom of the previous page a standing memorial of a bit of curious history. It may be of interest to indicate some of the sources of which Cervantes availed himself in this poem. Bouterwek says it had no prototype.

This is true in the main, though Cervantes himself tells that his journey was fashioned after that of Cesare Caporali, of Perugia, an Italian poet of the school of Berni. Caporali was born in , and died in In his youth he was passionately fond of reading and translating Horace. He was essentially a ban vivant, and throughout the seventy years of his life, so far as appears, he followed no more useful occupation Translator's Preface.

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To this Academy he contributed most of his poems, and, amongst others, the Viaggio dl Parnaso. To his credit it may be said, that his poems are free from the gross licentiousness of his school. Spanish critics praise his versification as superior to that of Cervantes, but award to the latter the palm for superior invention. Cervantes, in fact, borrowed little from him except the title of his book, and the bare idea of such a romantic journey. Caporali's plan is altogether different from that of Cervantes, and is somewhat after this fashion.

He embarks with his mule on board of a merchant vessel bound to Messina ; thence he proceeds by way of Corfu to the Gulf of Corinth, and so to the foot of Mount Parnassus. There he finds crowds of poets, trying to scale the steep hill by the curious process of knitting MSS. Caporali is more fortunate, for he happens to have with him a passport signed by Ferdinando de Medici, afterwards Grand xlviii Translator's Preface. Duke of Florence, which he carries on his breast, after the manner of the Algerine captives.

At sight of this every barrier falls, and every gate is thrown open, and he finds himself on the summit in sight of the Temple of Apollo, with its four gateways, the Hebrew, Greek, Roman, and Tuscan. The entry to it is through several gardens. To explore these he takes for his guide Poetic Licence, who makes him leave his mule behind, lest the plants and flowers should be endangered, and says to him: Thereafter he leaves Poetic Licence behind, and through the Elysian gate he reaches the place of noble delights, where Petrarch dwells with the other deities of the Tuscan Parnassus.

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This is the most delightful part of the Satire, and is worth perusing. While Caporali is gazing, awe-struck, on the wondrous scene, a mighty clamour is heard from without. He rushes back to find that a curious affair of love has arisen between an ass, the Pegasus of the bad poets, and his insulted mule. He intervenes, and begins to beat his enraged brute.

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She takes to her heels, he runs after, and, as he humor- Translator s Preface. All this is sufficiently comic, but it is not the Comedy of Cervantes. But there is a Spanish author to whom Cervantes is more indebted than to Caporali, viz. He was a distinguished playwright, epic poet, critic, and ballad writer of the latter half of the sixteenth century. A native of Seville, he published in that town, in , a book of Romances, which is now excessively rare, but a copy of which is in the British Museum. It is entitled, Coro Febeo de Romances Historiales.

It is divided into ten books, severally dedicated to Apollo and the Nine Muses. In the tenth book, dedicated to Calliope, occur two romances, which evidently suggested to Cervantes a number of his ideas. The first is entitled: The second romance is more suggestive still. In fact it degenerates at the close into a fearful scrimmage.

The poets let fly at Apollo their Ballad-books and Novel-books: Cual le arroja el Cancionero, Cual le tira el Novelario. Apollo seizes the trunk of a huge oak as a weapon of offence. The Muses ply the heads of the storming- party with sticks, and awful bloodshed ensues. But overwhelming numbers prevail, and the heights of Parnassus are stormed and won. Apollo, seeing "that all is lost and his Muses in danger, harnesses his four steeds, bids the Muses mount his car, and without more ado he wings his flight to heaven, and leaves Parnassus in the hands of the profane barbarians.

There is another little book which we fancy must have been used by Cervantes, viz. It was published in Venice, , under the title of La Ulyxea de Homero, but contained only thirteen books ; the complete poem was issued at Antwerp, in It is a bald, unpretending translation j but clear, and Translator's Preface. It may well have found its way as a "crib" into the Estudio of Juan Lopez de Hoyos in Madrid, where Cervantes learned his " little Latin and less Greek.

The passage of the straits between Scylla and Charybdis, with the humorous episode of Lofraso ; the description of the heights of Parnassus, presenting a faint reminis- cence of the gardens of Alcinoiis ; the deep sleep during which Cervantes is transported from Parnassus to Naples ; his entry into Madrid in the garb of a pilgrim ; all these are incidents taken from the ad- ventures of the great Grecian hero, and many of the phrases and similes used remind us of the language of Perez' version.

For rapid, vivid de- scription, for Homeric picturesqueness of incident, we commend this third chapter to our readers, as one of the most noteworthy and interesting in the book. The Spaniards have always lamented that Providence, which has been bountiful to them in other matters, has denied to their literature a great epic poem. Ercilla's La Araucana, though full of poetic beauties, is lacking in world-wide interest j the Poema del Cid, though a glorification of their national hero, is a fragment, and its language and versification, albeit Hi 'Translator's Preface.

Their last resource is in the Don Quixote, universal in its interest, and quite Homeric both in grasp and fancy, but this alas! Might we suggest, that if they desire a first-rate burlesque Epic, a veritable humorous Odyssey, they have it ready to hand in this little poem of Cervantes, if they will only re-christen it, and call it: The Spanish text which accompanies this trans- lation is, in the main, that given in the Biblioteca de Autores Espanoles, , purged of its numerous mis- prints. We have collated it with that found in the collected edition of Cervantes' works, , which professes to have corrections from the notes of the late learned Sr.

The spelling is modernized, the punctuation is rectified, and a few alterations are made which the sense seems to demand, but otherwise the text is essentially that of the first edition of For valuable advice, and cordial assistance rendered in these matters, and in the interpretation of the obscurer passages, we have to acknowledge with grati- tude our indebtedness to Don Pascual de Gayangos, the true " friend in need " of all English Cervantistas.

Viaje del Parnaso, and the analogous titles, Viaje del Jerusalen, Viaje de la Tierra Santa, are expressive of the ordinary tour or round peregrinatio which pilgrims made on their visit to holy cities or places ; but of such tour or peregrination there is little or no trace in the Journey of Cervantes. It is simply a journey, partly by sea and partly by land, to Parnassus for a definite object, the extermination of the bad poets. We have therefore thought it better to translate it into English, not by Journey of Parnassus, which would be vague and equivocal, nor by Tour of Parnassus, which would be misleading to English readers ; but by Journey to Parnassus, which ex- presses with sufficient accuracy the main contents of the book.

Duffield authoritatively informs us that Travels in Parnassus is the only correct title of the book. How he arrives at this conclusion he does not tell us. It has the double defect of being at once a mistranslation and a misnomer. Travels in Vesu- vius would be quite as intelligible as Travels in Parnassus, and much more feasible. Finally, it has been our endeavour to present to liv Translator s Preface. English readers a readable and enjoyable version of this much-neglected Satire. We have striven, as far as possible, to stick to the letter of the text, and to preserve its spirit always.

It has been our aim above all to imitate the easy, unconstrained, yet subtle style of the great master of modern humour. If there be shortcomings in this respect, it has not been through want of patient endeavour ; but, unfortunately, such gift is not the fruit of effort. As this translation was undertaken mainly for the purpose of allowing English readers to judge of the life, character, and aims of Cervantes under the light which he himself has given, we think this a fitting place to say a word or two on certain theories that have been lately broached concerning them, and especially by Mr.

Duffield in the preface to his new translation of Don Quixote. Of the merits of this translation we would fain speak with all respect, as we had much to do with it in various ways. It is fairly accurate, and is purged of much of the Translator's Preface. Iv grossness of former versions, and for these two good things we are thankful. If it had been purged like- wise of the added archaisms, which are so profusely scattered over it, we should have been more thankful still.

As it is, we feel sometimes, on travelling through it, as if we were jolting over some old, rough, rutty country road, instead of bounding over the smooth, easy-going, delightful Cervantic highway. But its most serious fault is its over-accentuation of the humour of the book. Whoever knows anything of the peculiar quality of Cervantic humour will feel, that there is a certain limit of reserve difficult to define over which it is quite fatal to pass. When we find, therefore, the somewhat vulgar eccentricities of the translator blended as they constantly are with the glorious extravagances of the Knight and Squire, we feel in a sort of quandary, and are tempted to ask, in no very good humour: But what concerns us most is, that the trans- lator has carried this overstrained, sensational manner of his into his estimate of the purpose of Cervantes in writing Don Quixote.

We are no longer, it seems, to look upon it as a book of pleasant pastime, as this Journey tells us it is j nor e Ivi Translator s Preface. If we are very observant, and especially if we wear our instructor's spectacles, we shall find things, it may be little things, constantly cropping up, which clearly show that Cervantes was a great priest-hater, and had a deadly horror of priestly ways and things was in fact somewhat of a freethinker in matters ecclesiastic, and would have been a thorough root-and-branch reformer, if only Fate, or the Inquisition, had allowed.

Throughout the book he may, to our simple eyes, be only trying to excite innocent and wholesome mirth ; but in reality he is slyly infusing certain little drops of explosive spirit which, at the proper time, will give a shake to the foundations of the church, and cause the throne of the Queen of Heaven to topple over! In fact, if we are to believe our guide, Cervantes is playing all the while the somewhat shady part of a Spanish Guy Fawkes.

In proof of all this we are gravely requested to observe, how Don Quixote's housekeeper implores the good Curate to sprinkle the Knight's enchanted library with holy water to exorcise the demons ; how the New Amadis, doing penance in the Sierra Morena, knots the end of his shirt-tail to make a rosary withal j Translator's Preface. Ivii and how Sancho Panza, in loving converse with his chum, Tome Cecial, makes this remark, "In the sweat of our brows we eat bread ; " thereby becoming hetero- dox, seeing he has been using the Spanish Reformers' rendering of a Bible phrase, whereas he ought to have said, "With the sweat," in good orthodox fashion.

These, and sundry matters of like importance, excite Mr. Duffield's admiration for the daring con- tempt they show of Holy Church on Cervantes' part. It is a standing wonder to him, so he in- forms us, why the " cold-blooded and relentless myrmidons of the mangling Inquisition " did not burn the author of that pestilent book on the Plaza del Sol?

Duffield does not seem to comprehend the plain sense of plain words, we offer him a Spanish Commentary of the period, which may clear his vision. While lately reading Guillen de Castro's Mocedades del Cid, we lighted on the following lines, which are not only pat to the point, but quaint and beautiful in themselves. They are put in the mouth of the Cid, on his pil- grimage to Santiago, in answer to the jeerings of his fellow-pilgrims, for appearing in the gay attire of a knight: Precious boon to mortals given, God, whose guiding hand is o'er us, Sets a thousand roads before us, Leading each and all to Heaven!

Whoso, in this world of vision, Would as pilgrim safe be guided, Hath to choose the path provided Best befitting his condition. So, with honest soul and good, And the light of Heaven upon it, May the Cleric don his bonnet, And the Friar wear his hood. Now with tears, and now with song, Suffering some, and fighting others, To the land where all are brothers One by one they march along!

Guillen de Castro was a poor and neglected man when he died, but it was not for saying, " God has a thousand ways of leading men to heaven. Neither did Cervantes, as our critic ignorantly insinuates. Such an idea was quite foreign to their Spanish minds ; they had no oc- casion to speculate upon it, or if they did they kept their speculations to themselves. But does not the author of these childish attempts to prove Cervantes to have been a covert sceptic, or a sort of glorified Tom Paine, see that in proving this he is proving too much?

He is simply demon- strating that Cervantes was a hypocrite, and his life a lie. He claims to have read Don Quixote twenty times, has he ever read Persiles and Sigismunda once? That book, written when the hand of death was upon Cervantes, proves him to have been to the last the good Catholic and simple Christian, that Doctor de Sosa affirms him to have been thirty-six years before. To tell us, more- over, that the secret of his poverty was, that he was hunted down by the clergy as the enemy of their order and faith, is simply to tell us to shut our eyes to the light.

Let us take the following plain facts from the closing years of his life. It was a priest, in the person of the licentiate Marquez Torres, who, in his official censure of the second part of Don Quixote, bestowed on him and his works, from a Christian point of view, the most glowing and hearty eulogium he ever received in his lifetime.

It was a priest, in the person of the Cardi- nal Archbishop of Toledo, who saved him from star- vation, and made his last hours peaceful. It was to this benefactor that Cervantes addressed the following touching letter, which has only lately come to light: If the malady under which I labour could be cured, the repeated proofs of favour and protection, which your 'Translator's Preface. Ixi lordship dispenses, would suffice for that purpose. But the end advances so rapidly, that I think it will soon be over with me, but not with my gratitude. May God our Lord preserve you as executor of so many holy works, that you may enjoy the fruits thereof in His holy glory.

And, finally, it was a Tercero brother who laid the only wreath, save one, that was placed upon his tomb. It has generally been reckoned a very poor, unworthy one ; but the simple brother gave his best, while the men of light and leading gave nothing! It is thus entitled: Francisco de Urbina to Miguel de Cervantes: A famous Christian genius of our day: Whom the members of the Third Order of St.

Francis carried to his grave, with uncovered face, as one of their brethren. His earthly pilgrimage is sped, But not his fame, nor works are dead j As pledge whereof he had this grace, That when he sallied forth from this To find the world of endless bliss, He journeyed with uncovered face. Ixii 'Translator s Preface.

So much for the clerical rancour which was showered on Cervantes. As for the attitude which he in turn assumed towards the Church and Ritual of his country, it is perhaps not generally known, that the last long poem he wrote was a Hymn in praise of the Virgin, and the last sonnet that dropped from his pen was in honour of Christian Rome. They are to be found in the Persiles and Slgismunda, but not in the castrated English versions, from which they have been quietly dropped. They are not the finest specimens of his genius, but they are charac- teristic.

The Hymn to the Virgin breathes the subtle essence of mystical theology. It is too long to quote, but the following stanza may show its spirit: Justice and peace to-day in thee unite, Most blessed Virgin, and in loving trust The kiss of peace they give with fond delight, Pledge of the advent of the King august. Thou art the Dawn that ushers in the light Of that pure Sun, the glory of the just, The sinner's hope and stay, the gentle breeze That soothes to rest the old tempestuous seas. The Sonnet, striking in itself, is more striking still for the curious lines which follow it: O powerful, grand, thrice-blessed, and passing fair City of Rome!

To thee I bend the knee, A pilgrim new, a lowly devotee, 'Translator s Preface. Ixiii Whose wonder grows to see thy beauty rare! The sight of thee, past fame, beyond compare, Suspends the fancy, soaring though it be, Of him who comes to see and worship thee, With naked feet, and tender loving care. The soil of this thy land which now I view, Where blood of martyrs mingles with the clod, Is the world's relic, prized of every land j No part of thee but serves as pattern true Of sanctity ; as if the City of God Had been in every line its model grand!

The curious words that follow are these: I, not as a poet, but as a Christian, as if to make amends for his crime, composed what you have heard. Perhaps the critic, who has so ignorantly mistaken the character of Cervantes and made him pose before the British public as a priest-hater and iconoclast, may, like the pilgrim poet, en discuento de su cargo, undertake the work. We warn him, however, that at the end of the fifth chapter of the Ixiv Translator's Preface. But enough on this point. We are not greatly concerned to prove that Cervantes was a good Catholic. Our Scottish proclivities might have in- clined us in the contrary direction, had the truth of things warranted.

We are content to know that he was an upright and honest man, whose religion was simply the creed of his country and his comrades ; a part of his second nature; never obtrusive, never bigoted, but always sincere. The great avocation of Cervantes was that of a man of letters. His own chief pride was to be ranked among the diviner order of poets, who have enriched the world with their creations. From this lofty elevation he was free to use the immense resources of his brilliant wit to strike at folly, vice, and ignorance, wherever he met them, in Church or State, or in the world of Literature ; and through his laughter the world has grown merrier and wiser.

But his wit was ever genial and void of malice: My humble pen hath never winged its way Athwart the field Satiric, that low plain Which leads to foul rewards, and quick decay. And, better still, amid all the keenest flashings of his Translator's Preface. Ixv humour, he had no covert designs ; his irony might be subtle, but his aims were straightforward: Whatever betide, my steps are ne'er inclined Where travel falsehood, fraud, and base deceit, The total wreck of honour in mankind. In whatever he did or wrote he remained true to the instincts of his own noble nature, and to the best traditions of his country and faith.

A portrait of Cervantes by Francisco Pacheco was for a long time a desideratum. Tradition will have it, that such a sketch was made by Pacheco during the residence of Cervantes in Seville 1 ? The original portfolio was Ixviii Of the Portrait. It contained, however, one portrait, that of Fray Juan Bernal, Father and General of the Order of Mercy, in , which gave an unexpected clue to the spot, where a copy at least of the missing sketch might be found.

The curious chain of evi- dence by which this is established, or supposed to be established, does infinite credit to the ingenuity, perhaps a little too imaginative, of Sr. The whole details are set forth in his interesting brochure, en- titled: In the Spring of , while overhauling a roll of MS. Two of them are signed with the initials of the respective artists.

The one that most nearly corresponds with the description of the old chronicler is No 19, thus labelled: Pedro Nolasco in one of the passages of his life. This picture is unsigned, but is proved to be Pacheco's by the following evidence: In Pacheco's " Book of Description " there is attached to the sketch of Fray Juan Bernal, an account of his life and redemptive labours in Algiers; of the many captives he brought home with him to Seville ; of his election as General of the Order in 1 60 1 ; and of his death in the Casa Grande de Merced that same year.

Pacheco narrates that he painted him after death: It is one of my felicities, as it is also one, that he himself had chosen me before any other for the Ixx Of the Portrait. Asensio found, to his great delight, to be identical with that of S. Pedro Nolasco, in the picture No. The face of the modern General was made to do duty for that of the older Father and Saint of the Order.

The picture, therefore, is by Pacheco ; its subject corresponds exactly with that mentioned by the old chronicler ; and here, if anywhere, may we expect to find the alleged portrait of Cervantes j a transcript, probably, of the missing sketch. If all this be true, the matter is narrowed almost to a point to the identification of one out of three portraits in the picture.

Asensio, with a due sense of the importance of the inquiry, assem- bled around him some of the most distinguished artists and litterateurs of Seville, and proceeded with them to solve the question on the spot. The artists decided at once, as artists only can, that all the heads in the picture were portraits. The Cervantistas, with the famous description of the prologue to the Novelas in their hands, compared the handiwork of Pacheco with the graphic delineation of Cervantes himself.

After much discussion pro and con. Ixxi and lineaments of that piquant description were to be found, and found only, in the face of the noble bar- quero, who looks with such a keen and kindly eye on the embarcation of the Redemptorist Fathers. And so the question was settled to the satisfaction of the Sevilian experts ; and Seville was declared to be the happy possessor of the noblest portrait of the noblest genius of Spain.

How Cervantes himself would have revelled in the idea of such a solemn inquest on his likeness!

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What a subject for another piquant colloquy between Scipio and Berganza, the immortal dogs of Mahudes! One of the company then assembled, D. Eduardo Cano, a distinguished artist, afterwards took a careful drawing of the head, which has been photographed, and circulated throughout the land, with much acclaim.

Our etching is a faithful transcript of the drawing ; except, perhaps, that the curve of the nose the nariz corva aunque bien propordanada of Cervantes, is hardly so sharply defined as in the original. These are the bare facts of this somewhat roman- tic search after Pacheco's missing portrait. The special pleadings of Sr. Asensio and his fellow- enthusiasts, as well as the sceptical criticisms of their opponents, we leave for the consideration of the curious.

That the genuineness of the likeness Ixxii Of the Portrait. If absolute certainty be demanded, we must be content to remain without any portrait of Cervantes whatever. The courtly likeness, tricked out in all the bravery of the period, which now adorns the walls of the Academy of Madrid the fruitful parent of the countless progeny of engravings that circulate throughout the world has a pedigree still more precarious. Its actual history, however, is somewhat perplexing.

That it is a likeness of Cervantes at all depends mainly on the dictum of the dealer, F. Bracho, who somewhere in the middle of the eighteenth cen- tury sold it as such to the Conde del Aguila, of Seville, and affirmed it to be the work of Alonso del Arco, an artist who died in The Count presented it to the Academy of Madrid to adorn their magni- ficent illustrated edition of the " Don Quixote ; " and convinced that it was much older and more authentic than represented, they had it sumptuously Of the Portrait.

Ixxiii engraved, and presented it to the world in But, to make confusion worse confounded, this engraving, with such distinguished vouchers, was found to be almost a facsimile of the portrait prefixed to the illustrated London Edition Lord Carteret's , published in , just forty-two years before! As all the world knows, this likeness was avowedly a pure invention of the clever designer, Kent, who conjured it out of his own brain ; with nothing but the description of Cervantes to guide him.

Oldfield, the editor, affirms that this was necessary, inasmuch as the whole of Spain had been ransacked for an authentic portrait, but without success. This perplexing mystery still awaits unravelment, and no doubt there has been hard swearing somewhere. Madrid and Seville were among the seven cities that once contended for the glory of being the birth- place of Cervantes. The discovery of the baptismal register of Alcala de Henares has settled that point for ever.

They are now in friendly rivalry for the possession of the true likeness of Cervantes ; the one swearing by Jauregui, the other by Pacheco. The light of certainty rests on neither. But if a choice must be made as we have had the privilege of seeing both , we feel tempted to affirm, that the weight of evidence, and the force of attraction, incline equally in the direction of Pacheco's noble barquero. Ixxiv Of the Portrait. This, at least, we may affirm with confidence, that no more admirable portraiture need be desired of the captive-poet who wrote the famous letter to Mateo Vazquez from Algiers ; or of him who, when the gold of his beard had changed to silver to use his own words , essayed the adventurous Journey to Parnassus.

In its homely garb, and manly bearing, it forms a perfect illustration of the mingled pride and modesty which characterize Cervantes' pithy speech to Mercury the epitome, in fact, of his whole literary life: My lord, I'm poor, and to Parnassus bound, And, thus accoutred, seek my journey's end! In conclusion, to broach a kindred subject, may we remind our Spanish readers if such there be that the long-talked-of Memorial to Cervantes, on a scale of befitting grandeur, is still one of the cosas de Espana?

A certain enthusiastic but critical Scots- man, while lately loitering on the Plaza de las Cortes of Madrid, and looking up at the puny statue, with its appendages, which affects to represent the grandest genius of Spain in the very face of its enlightened Parliament and remembering at the same time, with no little pride, what a veritable poem in stone his own romantic town has created in honour of the Scottish Cervantes could not help indulging in the following Of the Portrait.

To thee, Cervantes, Spain more glory true Owes, than to monarch, priest, or statesman vain ; More wealth, than ever o'er the Spanish main Her stately galleons brought from far Peru! A true-born son of thine in him we view, Our Wizard of the North, whose teeming brain Did make poor Scotland rich, and struck the vein Which drained the Old World, to enrich the New! Scott sits, a King, beneath his Gothic shrine, And proud Edina guards the sculptured stone ; Can grand Madrid afford no kinglier throne For thee to grace, whose works she deems divine?

O name without a blot! Receive this tribute from a kindly Scot. DlRIJO a vuesa merced este Viaje que hice al Parnaso, que no desdice a su edad florida, ni a sus loables y cstudiosos ejercicios. Si vuesa merced le hace el acogimiento que yo espero de su condicion ilustre, cl quedara famoso en el mundo, y mis deseos premiados. If your Worship gives it the reception I expect from your noble generosity, it will become famous in the world, and my wishes be amply gratified. Si por ventura, lector curioso, eres poeta, y llegarc a tus manos aunque pecadoras este Viajei si te hallares en el escrito y notado entre los buenos poetas, da gracias a Apolo por la merced que te hizo ; y si no te hallares, tambien se las puedes dar.

Y Dios te guarde. Excute caeruleum, proles Saturnia, tergum, Verbera quadrigae sentiat alma Tethys. Agmen Apollineum, nova sacri injuria ponti, Carmineis ratibus per freta tendit iter. Proteus sequoreas pecudes, modulamina Triton, Monstra cavos latices obstupefacta sinunt. At caveas tantse torquent quae mollis habenas, Carmina si excipias nulla tridentis opes. Hesperiis Michael claros conduxit ab oris In pelagus vates. Imo age, pone metus, mediis subsiste carinis, Parnassi in litus vela secunda gerc. If haply, curious reader, thou art a poet, and this "Journey," should come be it even stealthiwise into thy hands, and thou find thyself inscribed therein and noted as one of the good poets, give thanks to Apollo for the grace he hath given thee ; and if thou do not so find thyself, in like manner mayest thou give thanks.

And God be with thee. Pues veys que no me han dado algun soneto Que ilustre deste libro la portada, Venid vos, pluma mia mal cortada, Y hazedle aunque carezca de indiscrete ; Hareys que escuse el temerario aprieto De andar de una en otra encruzijada, Mendigando alabanzas, escusada Fatiga e impertinente, yo os prometo. Todo soneto y rima alia sc avenga, Y adorne los umbrales de los buenos, Aunque la adulacion es de ruyn casta ; Y dadme vos que este Viaje tenga De sal un panezillo por lo menos, Que yo os le marco por vendible, y basta. To deck this frontispiece, since thou dost see No friend hath offered me a sonnet, none, Come thou, my ill-cut pen, and make me one, If not so high-flown as it ought to be ; From grave anxiety thou'lt set me free, I need not then through court and alley run To beg eulogiums ; for I'd rather shun Such vain and humbling search, I promise thee.

Let rhymes and sonnets go, for aught I care, To deck the door-posts of the upper few, Though flattery is at best but common stuff ; And grant me that this "Journey '' have its share Of pungent salt, at least a pinch or two, I warrant thee 'twill sell ; and so enough. Un quidam caporal italiano, De patria perusino, a lo que entiendo, De ingenio griego, y de valor romano, Llevado de un capricho reverendo, Le vino en voluntad de ir a Parnaso, Por hair de la corte el vario estruendo.

Solo y a pie partiose, y paso a paso Llego donde compro una mula antigua, De color parda y tartamudo paso: Nunca a medroso parecio estantigua Mayor, ni menos buena para carga, Grande en los huesos, y en la fuerza exigua, Corta de vista, aunque de cola larga, Estrecha en los ijares, y en el cuero Mas dura que lo son los de una adarga. Era de ingenio cabalmente entero, Caia en cualquier cosa facilmente Asi en abril, como en el mes de enero. A certain Corporal 1 , as I am told, Italian, and by birth a Perusine, In wit a Greek, and like a Roman bold, Led by a whim, a worthy one, I ween, To mount Parnassus fain would set his face, To flee the court, its turmoil and chagrin.

Alone, on foot, he slowly reached a place Where an old mule 2 he bought him for the tour, Of steel-grey colour, and of jog-trot pace ; So gaunt a spectre ne'er met timid boor, Nor one less fit to carry weight along, Its bones colossal, and its action poor ; Short was its vision, though its tail was long, Lean were its flanks, and eke its hide more tough Than those which to an ancient targe belong ; Its wit and temper were of such rare stuff, That, be it April month or January, It fell to work right pleasantly enough. En fin, sobre ella el poeton valicnte Llego al Parnaso, y fue del rubio Apolo Agasajado con serena frente.

Conto, cuando volvio el poeta solo Y sin blanca a su patria, lo que en vuelo Llevo la fama deste al otro polo. Yo, que siempre trabajo y me desvelo For parecer que tengo de poeta La gracia, que no quiso darme el cielo, Quisiera despachar a la estafeta Mi alma, 6 por los aires, y ponella Sobre las cumbres del nombrado Oeta. Pues descubriendo desde alii la bella Corriente de Aganipe, en un saltico Pudiera el labio remojar en ella, Y quedar del licor siiave y rico El pancho lleno, y ser de alii adelante Poeta ilustre, 6 al menos manifico.

Mas mil inconvenientes al instante Se me ofrecieron, y quedo el deseo En cierne, desvalido e ignorante. Porque en la piedra que en mis hombros veo, Que la fortuna me cargo pesada, Mis mal logradas esperanzas leo. Las muchas leguas de la gran Jornada Se me representaron que pudieran Torcer la voluntad aficionada, Journey to Parnassus.

When to his home alone he did repair, Without a plack, from this to t'other pole Fame bore the tale he told on wings of air. I, who do toil and strain my being whole To shew, what Heaven's grace will not allow, The semblance of a poet's gracious soul, Was minded greatly to dispatch mine now By post or through the air, and so to take And plant it on far-famed Oeta's brow ; Thence haply spying, through the tangled brake, Where Aganippe's charming current flows, I might take one short leap, and forthwith slake My lips with rich sweet draughts, and in repose Might fill my paunch right full, and henceforth be A poet grand, or leastways grandiose: But thousand stumbling-blocks appeared to me To bar the way, and made my purpose slack A fruitless, powerless, senseless thing to see ; For in the load I bear upon my back, Which Fortune there has placed with heavy hand, I read the hopes which all fruition lack.

The leagues full many of the journey grand Might well have filled my bosom with dismay, And brought my darling project to a stand: Si en aquel mismo instante no acudieran Los humos de la fama a socorrerme, Y corto y facil el camino hicieran. Si yo viniese a verme En la dificil cumbre deste monte, Y una guirnalda de laurel ponerme ; No envidiaria el bien decir de Aponte, Ni del muerto Galarza la agudeza, En manos blando, en lengua Rodamonte.

En fin, sobre las ancas del destine, Llevando a la eleccion puesta en la silla, Hacer el gran viaje determino. Si esta cabalgadura maravilla, Sepa el que no lo sabe, que se usa For todo el mundo, no solo en Castilla. Ninguno tiene, 6 puede dar excusa De no oprimir desta gran bestia el lomo, Ni mortal caminante lo rehusa. Suele tal vez ser tan lijera, como Va por el aire el aguila 6 saeta, Y tal vez anda con los pies de plomo.

Pero para la carga de un poeta, Siempre lijera, cualquier bestia puede Llevarla, pues carece de maleta. And so in fine, upon Fate's haunches grave, And perched upon its saddle with free-will, I made resolve the journey grand to brave. If such a mount should men with marvel fill, Let him who knows not know, that it is used The whole world round, not merely in Castile ; No one can be, nor ever is excused From taking seat upon that wondrous brute, Nor mortal traveller has e'er refused: At times 'tis wont to go so swift, and shoot Like shaft or eagle through the upper air, And then at times to jog with leaden foot ; But for the poet's travelling weight to bear The task is light, and any beast is good To carry it ; for no valise is there.

Que es caso ya infalible, que aunque herede Riquezas un poeta, en poder suyo No aumentarlas, perderlas le sucede. Desta verdad ser la occasion arguyo, Que tu, 6 gran padre Apolo, les infundes En sus intentos el intento tuyo. Y como no le mezclas ni confundes En cosas de agibilibus rateras, Ni en el mar de ganacia vil le hundes ; Ellos, 6 traten burlas, 6 scan veras, Sin aspirar a la ganancia en cosas, Sobre el convexo van de las esferas, Pintando en la palestra rigurosa Las acciones de Marte, 6 entre las flores Las de Venus mas blanda y amorosa.

Llorando guerras, 6 cantando amores, La vida como en sucno se les pasa, O como suele el tiempo a jugadores. Son hechos los poetas de una masa Duke, suave, correosa y tierna, Y amiga del hogar de ajena casa. El poeta mas cuerdo se gobierna Por su antojo baldio y regalado, De trazas lleno, y de ignorancia eterna. Absorto en sus quimeras, y admirado De sus mismas acciones, no procura Llegar a rico, como a honroso estado.

The reason of this fact I do divine, That thou, great Sire Apollo, dost infuse Into their minds a goodly share of thine ; And as thou dost not mingle, nor confuse The same with business matters of the day, Nor on the sea of commerce vile dost cruise ; So they, whate'er their themes, severe or gay,. Concern them not with trade or balance-sheet, But o'er the spheres prefer to wing their way ; Limning, perchance, of Mars some bloody feat On foughten field, or else among the flowers The deeds of Venus, amorous and sweet ; Bewailing wars, or piping in Love's bowers, With them life passes like a dream of earth, Or as the gamblers spend the fleeting hours.

Poets are made of clay of dainty worth, Sweet, ductile, and of delicacy prime, And fond of lingering at a neighbour's hearth ; For e'en the wisest poet of his time Is ruled by fond desires and delicate, Of fancies full and ignorance sublime ; Wrapped in his whimsies, with affection great For his own offspring, he is not designed To reach a wealthy, but an honoured state. Vayan pues los leyentes con letura, Cual dice el vulgo mal limado y bronco, Que yo soy un poeta desta hechura: Cisne en las canas, y en la voz un ronco Y negro cuervo, sin que el tiempo pueda Desbastar de mi ingenio el duro tronco: Y que en la cumbre de la varia rueda Jamas me pude ver solo un momento, Pues cuando subir quiero, se esta queda.

Pero por ver si un alto pensamiento Se puede prometer feliz suceso, Segui el viaje a paso tardo y lento. Un candeal con ocho mis 3 de queso Fue en mis alforjas mi reposteria, Util al que camina, y leve peso. Adios, dije a la humilde choza mia, Adios, Madrid, adios tu Prado, y fuentes Que manan nectar, llueven ambrosia.

Adios, conversaciones suficientes A entretener un pecho cuidadoso, Y a dos mil desvalidos pretendientes. Adios, sitio agradable y mentiroso, Do fueron dos gigantes abrasados Con el rayo de Jupiter fogoso. Adios, teatros publicos, honrados Por la ignorancia que ensalzada veo En cien mil disparates recitados. A wheaten-loaf, with eight small scraps of cheese, Was all the stock my wallet did contain, Good for the road, and carried with great ease ; " Farewell," quoth I, " my humble home and plain!

Farewell, Madrid, 4 thy Prado, and thy springs Distilling: D Farewell, ye gay assemblies, pleasant things To cheer one aching bosom, and delight Two thousand faint, aspiring underlings! Farewell, thou charming and deceitful site, Where erst two giants great were set ablaze By thunderbolt of Jove, in fiery might! Farewell, ye public theatres, whose praise Rests on the ignorance I see becrown The countless follies of unnumbered plays! C 1 8 Viaje del Parnaso. Adios de San Felipe el gran paseo, Donde si baja 6 sube el turco galgo Como en gaceta de Venecia leo. Adios, hambre sotil de algun hidalgo, Que por no verme ante tus puertas muerto, Hoy de mi patria y de mi mismo salgo.

Con esto poco a poco llegue al puerto, A quien los de Cartago dieron nombre, Cerrado a todos vientos y encubierto. A cuyo claro y singular renombre Se postran cuantos puertos el mar bana, Descubre el sol, y ha navegado el hombre. Arrojose mi vista a la campana Rasa del mar, que trujo a mi memoria Del heroico Don Juan la heroica hazana.

Donde con alta de soldados gloria, Y con propio valor y airado pecho Tuve, aunque humilde, parte en la vitoria. A1H con rabia y con mortal despecho El otomano orgullo vio su brio Hollado y reducido a pobre estrecho. Lleno pues de esperanzas, y vacio De temor, busque luego una fragata, Que efetiiase el alto intento mio.

Cuando por la, aunque azul, liquida plata Vi venir un bajel a vela y remo, Que lomar tierra en el gran puerto trata. Philip's broadway of the town, 5 Where, as in Venice fly-sheet, I can know Whether the Turkish dog be up or down! Farewell, some lordling's hunger, keen and slow ; For sooner than drop dead beside thy door, This day from country and from self I go! Before whose clear renown and peerless fame Bow down whatever ports the sea doth lave, The sun illumes, or sailors make their aim.

And, as I cast mine eyes across the wave, The briny plain brought back to mind and heart The glorious action of Don Juan the brave ; Wherein, with soldier's fire, and soldier's art, And valour of mine own, on that great day I bore a certain though a humble part ; When, with a baffled rage they could not stay, And mortal spite, the haughty Ottoman Saw power and prestige shattered in the fray. All hopeful, then, and fearless, I began To look about to find some frigate near, Wherein to carry out my lofty plan ; When on the sea, so blue and silvery clear, I saw approach a barque, with sail and oar, Which right into the grand old port did steer.

Del mas gallardo, y mas vistoso extreme De cuantos las espaldas de Neptuno Oprimieron jamas, ni mas supremo. Cual este, nunca vio bajel alguno El mar, ni pudo verse en el armada, Que destruyo la vengativa Juno. No fue del vellocino a la Jornada Argos tan bien compuesta y tan pomposa, Ni de tantas riquezas adornada. Cuando entraba en el puerto, la hermosa Aurora por las puertas del oriente Salia en trenza blanda y amorosa ; Oyose un estampido de repente, Haciendo salva la real galera, Que desperto y alboroto la gente.

El son de los clarines la ribera Llenaba de dulcisima armonia, Y el de la chusma alegre y placentera. Entrabanse las horas por el dia, A cuya luz con distincion mas clara Se vio del gran bajel la bizarria. Ancoras echa, y en el puerto para, Y arroja un ancho esquife al mar tranquilo Con musica, con grita y algazara.

Usan los marineros de su estilo, Cubren la popa con tapetes tales Que es oro y sirgo de su trama el hilo. Yea, never on the main swam barque like this, Not even in the Armada's proud array, Which vengeful Juno whelmed in the abyss: Not Argo's self, upon that famous day It went to fetch the fleece, was rigged so rare, Or with such wealth of grandeur made display!

As into port she sailed, Aurora fair Passed through the Eastern gates the world to cheer, With amorous locks and sweetly waving hair ; When lo!

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The clanging sound of clarions filled the shore With sweetest harmony, wherewith did blend The merry songs of those who plied the oar ; The rosy Hours did on the day attend, Whose light a great distinctness and more clear Did on the barque and all its splendour send. The men dropped anchor, and made fast their gear, And launched a spacious skifl on the calm sea, To sound of music, shouts, and lusty cheer. With such array as sailors love to see They crowned the poop with carpets o'er and o'er, All woven with silk and gold embroidery ; 22 Viaje del Parnaso.

Tocan de la ribera los umbrales, Sale del rico esquife un caballero En hombros de otros cuatro principales. En cuyo traje y ademan severe Vi de Mercuric al vivo la flgura, De los fingidos dioses mensajero. En el gallardo talle y compostura, En los alados pies, y el caduceo, Simbolo de prudencia y de cordura, Digo, que al mismo paraninfo veo, Que trujo mentirosas embajadas A la tierra del alto coliseo. Vile, y apenas puso las aladas Plantas en las arenas venturosas Por verse de divinos pies tocadas ; Cuando yo revolviendo cien mil cosas En la imaginacion, llegue a postrarme Ante las plantas por adorno hermosas.

Mandome el dios parlero luego alzarme, Y con medidos versos y sonantes, Desta manera comenzo a hablarme: Yo, respondiendo a su demanda, digo: Senor, voy al Parnaso, y como pobre Con este alino mi Jornada sigo. Scarce had I seen him plant his winged feet Upon the yellow sands, that smiled in glee The treading of such feet divine to greet, When hundred thousand fancies came to me, As there I stood, and straightway I was fain To kneel before that form, so grand to see.

The spokesman god quick bade me rise again, And, in sonorous measured verse like Dante's, 8 Began to parley with me in this strain: What wallets and attire be these, my friend, Which plainly manifest thy wit but scant is! Y el a mi dijo: Toda abundancia y todo honor te sobre. Que en fin has respondido a ser soldado Antiguo y valeroso, cual lo muestra La mano de que estas estropeado. Bien se que en la naval dura palestra Perdiste el movimiento de la mano Izquierda, para gloria de la diestra.

Y se que aquel instinto sobrehumano Que de raro inventor tu pecho encierra, No te le ha dado el padre Apolo en vano. Tus obras los rincones de la tierra, Llevandolas en grupa Rocinante, Descubren, y a la envidia mueven guerra. Pasa, raro inventor, pasa adelante Con tu sotil disinio, y presta ayuda A Apolo ; que la tuya es importante: Antes que el escuadron vulgar acuda Demas de veinte mil sietemesinos Poetas, que de serlo estan en duda.

Llenas van ya las sendas y caminos Desta canalla inutil contra el monte, Que aun de estar a su sombra no son dinos, Armate de tus versos luego, y ponte A punto de seguir este viaje Conmigo, y a la gran obra disponte. Thine is the answer of a soldier true, Of antique valour, testified aright To all by that maimed hand which now I view: I know that, in the naval bloody fight, Thy left hand shattered lost the active power It once possessed, for glory of the right!

Yet not in vain is Sire Apollo's dower Of gifts to thee, the rare inventive art, The instinct which transcends the passing hour ; Thy works, through all the world in every part, Which Rozinante on his crupper bears, Are known, and stir to strife the envious heart.

Pass, rare inventor, subtle in affairs, Pass on before, and to Apollo lend Thy timely aid, so needful in his cares ; Before the vulgar squadron thither wend Of seven-month poets, twenty thousand told, Whose being is a riddle without end. Already doth this useless rabble bold Throng all the paths and roads, to storm the hill Whose shade they are not worthy to behold.

So arm thee with thy verses and thy skill, And make thee ready to embark with me, And gird thee for the service with good will ; i6 Viaje del Parnaso. Conmlgo segurisimo pasaje Tendras, sin que te empaches, ni procures Lo que suelen llamar matalotaje. Y porque esta verdad que digo, apures, Entra conmigo en mi galera, y mira Cosas con que te asombres y asegures.

Yo, aunque pense que todo era mentira, Entre con el en la galera hermosa, Y vi lo que pensar en ello admira. Pwego de San Anton. Lunas, gamot na laban sa lason. Ang ukol sa unang panahon. Gamot na panglaban sa kabulukan.

Pagdaka, karakaraka, may katulinan. Pagsasanggalang, pagtatanggol, pag-aadya, pagbibigay dahilan. Pagtalikod sa dating pananampalataya. Ang tumatalikod sa dating pananampalataya. Tumalikod sa dating pananampalataya. Pag aring Dyos sa kaninoman. Lumitaw, sumipot, humarap; sumikat, sumilang. Bagay na kaugnay, karugtong.

Dapat pahalagahan, dapat mahalin. Pagsubok, pagsuri; pahintulot, pagpapatunay. Arkanghel, anghel na may mataas na kalagayan. Ardency , ardor, n. Mahirap gawin, mabigat gawin; masipag. Sa palibot, sa paligid. Pagkalagay, pagkahusay, pagkaayos; ayos, husay. Gayak, bihis; ayos sa pakikipaglaban. Lumagay, humanay, umayos; maggayak. Kagilasan, gilas, kahambugan kapalaluan. Artesian well , n. Ukol sa gawang nagpapakilalang may kainaman.

Gaya, para, gayon din, kung paano, yamang. Umahon, sumampa, tumaas, umilanglang. Mukhang humento, ugaling humento. Maniil, mangloob, mangharang, dumaluhong, humandulong. Ang mahaharang, masisiil, malolooban. Panghaharang, pangloloob, paniniil, pangdadaluhong. Lumusob, dumaluhong, mangloob, mangharang. Ang pananalig na walang Dyos. Ang may pananalig na walang Dyos. Daluhong, paglaban, salakay, paglusob. Dumaluhong, lumaban, sumalakay, lumusob. Nakagaganyak, nakahahalina, kahalihalina, nakahihikayat. Patotohanan, patunayan, ipakilala ang katotohanan.

Ang katotohanan, ang katunayan. Auxiliar , auxiliary, adj. Ave Mary , n. Magpatunay, magpatotoo; matunayan, matotohanan. Tawag, kaloob, katungkulan, hanap-buhay. Umiwas, iwasan, umilag, ilagan. Magaspang, bastos, musmos; mahirap gawin. Kawikaan, kasabihang may taglay na aral. Nauukol sa kasabihang may taglay na aral. Urong sa dakong likod. Manirang puri, umalimura sa likuran. Gulugod, buto sa likod. Kaibigang mapagpailalim, kaibigang taksil, kaibigang kasoy.

Katalo, kaaway; mahirap kausapin. Tosino, karneng baboy na inasnan. Ang daladalahan sa paglalakbay. Sikang; abala, bagabag; kaapihan. Pangpabigat na inilalagay sa sasakyan. Kahong karton, sisidlang karton. Walang suot ang paa. Bagay na walang halaga. Oso, isang hayop na apat ang paa. Hayop na apat ang paa. Parang hayop, parang ganid, may pagkahayop. Hampas, hagupit; tibok, kutog. Halinahin, ganyakin ang kalooban. Sa unahan; sa tapat; sa harap; bago. May pananalig, may pananampalataya; tapat. Betime , bitimes, adv. Sa kapanahunan, sa kasalukuyan. Lalong mabuti, lalong maigi, lalong magaling, lalong mainam.

Bumuti, gumaling, umigi, uminam. Sa pag-itan, sa gitna. Sumilaw, umenkanto, mangkulam, manggaway. Sa dako pa roon. Bilin, utos; tawad, turing. Ang taong may dalawang asawa. Ang pag-aasawa sa dalawa.

Pait, saklap, kapaitan, kasaklapan. Taong maitim, taga Etyopya. Pulpol, pudpod; makupad, mabagal. Boarding house , n. Walang sapatos; walang kabuluhan. Nobyo, lalaking bagong kasal. Bergantin, sasakyang may palo. Pakintabin, pakinisin, palinawin; buhayin, palakasin ang loob. Kintab, kinis, ningning; katalinuan. Brisk up , v. Taong masama at hambog. Pumutok na parang isang bomba.

Burial place , n. May kaliksihan, may kasipagan. Dawag, mababang punong kahoy na matinik. Yari sa tansong dilaw. Nakaraan, nagdaan, lipas na. Parang apog; may halong apog. Tahimik, mahinahon, tiwasay, palagay-loob. Ang nagbibintang, ang nagpaparatang. Pakikihamok, pakikilaban; lwal na dako. Parang aso, nahihinggil sa aso. Pananalitang tila awit; pananalitang malawig.

Pakarimuting maigi ang kabayo. Maaliwalas, malwang, malwag, malawak. Ariing may kaya, ariing sapat. Magbuhat sa ulo hanggang sa paa. Kapa; sako, supot, bayong. Capital letter , n. Magtaob, itaob, magtiwarik, itiwarik. Pagkakapitan, pagkalagay na kapitan. Taong hamak, taong walang tuto. Ang nauukol sa laman, ang nauukol sa kalayawan. Panakip sa dulang, panglatag sa sahig.

Himatay, kalagayang parang patay. Pusang bundok na tila tigre. Pwang, ukit, butas, hukay, bitak. Cayenne pepper , n. Walang likat, walang pukat, walang tigil. Pumuna; pumimtas; punahin; pansinin; pumansin; pintasan; humatol; hatulan. Mapagsang-ayon sa kaugaliang maraming pasikotsikot. Mag-init, mapoot, mayamot; kuskusin upang mag-init, humagod, kumuskos. Panayan na lihim; sangguning lihim. Chamber maid , n. Chamber pot , n. Mahabagin, maawain, magandang-loob; mapaglimos. Malinis, wagas; mahinahon, mabait. Sumisi, sisihin; bigyangsala, kagalitan, kaalitan. Ugaling mahal, asal ginoo.

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Kloroformo, [isang gamot na pangpatulog]. Kristyanuhin, binyagan sa pananalig kristyano. Kristyano, kampon ni Kristo. Papagkristyanuhin, maging alagad ni kristo. Taong bukid, taong bastos, taong masamang asal. Tawag na humarap sa gayong araw at oras, pagpapaharap. Paharapin sa paglilitis; banggitin, tukuyin. Kabutihan sa pamamayan, kabaitan, galang, pitagan.

Paglalagay sa karampatan, paglalagay sa ayos. Uriin, ilagay sa ayos, ilagay sa karampatan. Linis, kalinisan, kinis, kakinisan. May kalinisan, may kakinisan. Taong bastos, taong hamak. Abala, hadlang, kapansanan, kaabalahan. Walang ulap, maliwanag, aliwalas, malinaw. Pusong, payaso, bastos, hamak. Humawak, hawakan; sumunggab, sunggaban. Coal pit , n. Sasakyang dagat na pamaybay. Cocoa palm , n. Babaing kasama sa mana. Cole wort , n. Lumubog [ang sasakyan,] mabagbag.