Información sobre el texto

*

In 1768, the first volume, in octavo, of a work entitled El Parnaso Español, was published in Madrid. In 1770, three more volumes appeared, and a volume in each of the three subsequent years. This work is a collection of the best Spanish poems, and fugitive poetical pieces, with some account of the lives of the authors, and a short criticism on each piece, very beautifully printed, and ornamented with twelve elegant copper-plates, all engraven by Carmona. I shall give a short account of the contents of each volume, and present the reader with some of the most select pieces, with the translations as literally as the two languages will permit. After a frontispiece, representing Apollo sitting among the Muses, the work opens with a translation of Horace’s Art of Poetry, by Vincent Espinel.

Then follow twenty-two canzonets, selected from the forty-four, composed by D. Esteban Manuel de Villegas, under the title of Delicias.

Several detached pieces.

A Madrigal, by Lewis Martin, as follows:

Iba cogiendo flores,
Y guardando en la falda
Mi ninfa, para hacer una guirnalda;
Mas primero las toca
A los rosados labios de su boca,
Y les da de su aliento los olores;
Y estaba (por su bien) entre una rosa
Una abeja escondida,
Su dulce humor hurtando;
Y como en la hermosa
Flor de los labios se halló, atrevida,
La picó, sacó miel, fuese volando.

“My nymph collected flowers into her lap, in order to make a garland; but the first applies them to her rosy lips, and with her breath gives them their odour. A bee (happily for it) was hidden within a rose, Healing its sweets; and when it approached the beautiful flower of her lips, it boldly stung them, extracted honey out of them, and flew away.”

A Sonnet by Lupercio Leonardo de Argensola.

Tras importuna lluvias amanece
Coronando los montes el sol claro,
Alegre salta el Labrador avaro,
Que las horas ociosas aborrece.

La corva frente al duro yugo ofrece
Del animal, que a Europa fue tan caro,
Sale de su familia fuerte amparo,
Y los surcos solícito enriquece.

Vuelve de noche á su muger honesta,
Que lumbre, mesa, y lecho le apercibe,
Y el enjambre de hijos le rodéa.

Fáciles cosas cena con gran fiesta,
El sueño sin embidia le recibe.
O corte, ó confusion, quién te desea!

“The bright sun rises, among importunate rains, crowning the mountains: the greedy labourer abhors idle hours, and goes joyfully to work; he offers to the yoke the bent neck of the animal, which was so dear to Europa; he is the strong support of his family, and carefully enriches the furrows; he returns at night to his honest wife, who prepares fire, table, and bed for him, and his swarm of children environs him: he eats his light supper with great content, sleep receives him without envy. O court, O confusion, who desires thee!"

A Sonnet by Christoval Suarez de Figueroa.

O bien feliz el que la vida pasa
Sin ver del que gobierna el aposento,
Y mas quien deja el cortesano asiento
Por la humildad de la pajiza casa!

Que nunca teme una fortuna escasa
De agena envidia el ponzoñoso aliento:
Á la planta mayor persigue el viento;
Á la torre mas alta el rayo abrasa.

Contento estoy de mi mediana suerte:
El poderoso en su deidad resida:
Mayor felicidad yo no procuro:

Pues la quietud sagrada al hombre advierte
Ser para el corto espacio de la vida
El mas humildo estado, mas seguro.

“O happy is he who passes his life without entering into the dwelling of those who govern, and who abandons courts for the humility of a cottage! who never fears a scanty fortune, nor is tainted by the poisonous breath of envy. The tallest trees are most persecuted by the winds, and the highest towers are soonest struck by lightning. I am content with my middling station, let the powerful enjoy their grandeur, I desire no greater happiness. Because sacred quietude teaches, that for the short time we are allotted to live, the most humble station is the most secure.”

Nine of Virgil’s Eclogues by various hands.

The twentieth Epigram of the first book of Martial, beginning, Si memini fuerant tibi quatuor, Ælia, dentes, &c. thus translated by Barthol. Leonardo de Argensola.

Quatro dientes te quedaron
(Si bien me acuerdo); mas dos,
Elia, de una tós volaron,
Los otros dos de otro tós.
Seguramente tosér
Puedes yá todos los días,
Pues no tiene en tus encías
La tercera tos que hacer. 8

The Aminta of Tasso, translated into Spanish blank verse, by D. Juan de Jauregui, in 1607.

The following celebrated passage in the first scene of the first act:

Forse, se tu gustassi anco una volta.
La millesima parte de le gioie,
Che gusta un cor amato riamando,
Diresti, ripentita, sospirando:
Perduto e tutto il tempo,
Che in amar non si spende;
O mia fuggita etate
Quante vedove notti,
Quanti dì solitari
Ho consumato indarno,
Che si poteano impiegar in quest’ uso,
Il qual più replicato, é più soave.
Cangia., cangia consiglio,
Pazzarella che sei:
Che’l pentirsi da sezzo nulla giova.

Is thus translated:

Tù por Ventura, si una vez gustases
Qualquier mìnima parte del contento
Que goza un corazon amante, amado,
Dijeras suspirando arrepentidas:
Todo el tiempo se pierde,
Que en amar no se gasta:
Ò mis pasados años,
juntas prolijas noches,
Quantos silvestres solitarios dias
Hè consumido en vano,
Que pudiere ocuparlos
En estos amorosos pasatiempos!
Muda, muda de intento,
Simplecilla de ti, que no te entiendes
Y arrepentirse tarde importa poco.

“Perhaps if thou wert only once to taste the thousandth part of the happiness which is enjoyed by a heart loving and beloved; thou wouldst say, repenting and sighing, lost is all that time which is not spent in loving! O my past years, how many widowed nights, how many solitary days have I not consumed in vain? and which might have been employed in amorous pastimes, which are the more sweet the more often they are repeated. 9 Change, O change thy opinion, simple girl as thou art, for repentance is of no service when it is too late.”

The ladies will not, I hope, be displeased at here finding this same passage as versified by William Ayre, especially as the advice which is contained in it merits attention.

“Could I to thy soul reveal,
But the least, the thousandth part,
Of those pleasures, lovers feel
In a mutual change of heart;
Then, repenting, wouldst thou say,
Virgin fears from hence remove,
All the time is thrown away,
That we cannot spend in love.
Years are past, and took their flight,
Foolish days of coy disdain
Oh! how many a widowed night!
Past alone and past in vain,
Hours that in love employ’d,
Could with bliss the senses fill;
Blisses, that the more enjoy’d
Greater grow, and sweeter still.
Ah! change thy carriage, change thy heart,
Late repentance causes smart;
What a silly girl thou art!”

The second volume contains the portraits of Garcilaso de la Vega, and of Don Alonso de Ercilla y Zuñiga. It begins with Eclogues by Garcilaso; then follows the dispute of Ajax and Ulysses about the arms of Achilles.

Anacreon, translated in sixty monostrophes, by D. Esteban Manuel de Villegas.

The Judgment of Paris, an epic fable, on occasion of the public entry which Don Ferdinand VI. made into Madrid in 1746, by D. Ignacio de Luzan.

The greatest part of the second canto of the Araucana before mentioned.

The Gatomachia, or Battle of the Cats, a burlesque epic poem, by Lope de Vega, under the fictitious name of Thome de Burguillos. This is a poem of ninety-seven pages in verse, divided into seven silvas. Then follow a great number of smaller poems.

The third volume contains the portraits of Frey Lope Feliz de Vega Carpio, and of Dr. Barthol. Leonardo de Argensola.

About a third part of this volume consists of poems by de Vega, among which are the following:

Amarillis, an Eclogue of fifty pages.

A short poem, entitled the Flea.

A Sonnet composed of hard words, which concludes thus: “Understand’st thou, Fabio, what I am saying? How, should I not understand it! Thou liest Fabio, for I myself do not understand it.”

In the seventh volume, I find a sonnet by Pedro Espinosa, which, after a deal of pompous nonsense, concludes thus: “Thou who read’st this, do not be afraid if thou understand’st it not, because even I who made it do not understand it, so help me God.”

A Sonnet by D. Manuel de Velasco.

Quieres ser gran Señor? ponte severo:
Gusta de sabandijas: tèn enano:
Con los picaros sé muy cortesano,
Y con la gente honrada muy grosero:

Monta de quando en quando por cochero:
Lleva a pasear tus mulas en verano:
Haz desear lo que penda de tu mano;
Y olvidate de que eres caballero.

Si te pide el rendido, tuerce el gesto:
De agena bolsa no escasees gasto:
Para las vanidades echa el resto.

Solo con tu mujer seràs muy casto:
Pide, debe, no pagues; que con esto,
Si no eres gran Señor, seras gran trasto.

“Dost thou desire to be a great lord? be haughty; have a taste for butterflies; keep a dwarf; be very civil to rogues, and very rude to honest people: get upon the coach-box and drive thy own mules in summer-time: with-hold what is in thy power to bestow, and forget that thou art a gentleman. If a favour is begged of thee, turn thy face away: spare not another’s purse, and squander every thing upon vanities. With thy wife alone be chaste; demand, owe, and pay not; and by these means, if thou art not a great lord, thou art a great rascal.”

The Doctrine of Epictetus, seventy pages, translated by Don Francisco de Quevedo Villegas.

Phocilides, translated by the same hand, twenty pages.

The Fable of Apollo and Daphne, in burlesque verse, by Jacinto Polo de Medina.

Seven Epigrams by the same, one of which is

Cavando un sepulcro un hombre.
Sacò largo, corvo y grueso,
Entre otros muchos un hueso,
Que tiene cuerno por nombre:

Volviòlo al sepulcro al punto,
Y vièndolo un cortesano.
Dijo: bien haceis, hermano,
Que es hueso de ese difunto.

“A man who was digging in a grave, among many other bones found a large horn, which he buried carefully again. Another person seeing this, said. Thou doest well, brother, because that is one of the bones of the person who was here interred.”

After several detached poems, this volume concludes with a song by the Licentiate Dueñas. The last couplet contains a very false and unjust satire on the ladies.

——— ya no te quejes de mugeres;
Y si quejarte quieres,
Forma de mì querellas,
Porque me fié de ellas:
Que entonces la muger es buena cierto
Quando es mala y perversa al descubierto.

“——— Do not complain of women, but if thou wilt complain, complain of me who have trusted them; for a woman is most certainly good when she is openly perverse and wicked.”

The fourth volume is decorated with the portraits of Don Diego Hurtado de Mendoza and Quevedo.

The most remarkable pieces it contains are the following:

A Sonnet by Don Diego, and another on the same subject by Lope de Vega. This last has been translated into English, and published in Dodsley’s Collection of Poems, which I hope to be pardoned for inserting here after the Spanish originals.

Sonnet by Don Diego Hurtado de Mendoza.

Pedis, Reyna, un soneto, y ya le hago:
Ya el primer verso y el segundo es hecho:
Si el tercero me sale de provecho
Con otro verso el un quarteto os pago.

Ya llego al quinto: España! Santiago!
Fuera, que entro en el sesto: sus, buen pecho:
Si del setimo salgo, gran derecho
Tengo à salir con vida de este trago.

Ya tenemos a un cabo los quartetos:
Què me decìs, señora? no ando bravo?
Mas sabe Dios si temo los tercetos.

Y si con bien este soneto acabo,
Nunca en todo mi vida mas sonetos
Que de este, gloria à Dios, ya he visto el cabo.

“You ask a sonnet, my queen, I am making it;
The first and second verses are already made;
If the third succeeds happily,
I shall pay you with one couplet.

I have now got to the fifth line; Spain! St. James!
Softly, I enter into the sixth, courage:
If I get through the seventh, it will be a great action,
I must get out of this scrape with life.

Now 1 have finished the quadruplets:
What do you say, madam? do not I proceed finely?
But God knows if I fear the triplets.

And if I end this sonnet happily,
No more sonnets during my life
As I have, glory be to God, concluded this one.”

Sonnet by Lope de Vega.

Un soneto me manda hacer Violante,
Que en mi vida me he visto en tal aprieto:
Catorce versos dicen que es soneto:
Burla burlando ya vàn los tres delante.

Yo pensè que no hallara consonante,
Y estoy a la mitad de otro quarteto;
Mas si me veo en el primer terceto,
No hay cosa en los quartetos que me espante.

Por el primer terceto voy entrando,
Y aun parece que entrè con pie derecho,
Pues fin con este verso le voy dando.

Ya estoy en el segundo, y aun sospecho
Que voy los trece versos acabando:
Contad si son catorce, y està hecho.

Thus translated by Mr. Roderick.

“Capricious B…. a sonnet needs must have,
I ne’er was so put to ’t before: —— a sonnet!
Why fourteen verses must be spent upon it;
’Tis good howe’er t’ have conquer’d the first stave.

Yet I shall ne’er find rhymes enough by half,
Said I, and found myself i’th’ midst o’the second.
If twice four verses were but fairly reckon’d,
I should turn back on th’hardest part and laugh.

Thus far with good success I think I’ve scribbled,
And of the twice seven lines have clean got o’er ten.
Courage! another ’ll finish the first triplet.

Thanks to thee, Muse, my work begins to shorten,
There’s thirteen lines got through, driblet by driblet.
’Tis done! count how you will, I warr’nt there’s fourteen.”

Sonnet by an unknown hand.

El que tiene muger moza y hermosa
Que busca en casa de muger agena?
La suya es menos blanca? es mas morena?
Es fria, fioja, flaca? no hay tal cosa.

Es desgraciada? no, sino graciosa,
Es mala? No por cierto, sino buena:
Es una Venus, una Sirena,
Un fresco lirio, y una blanca rosa.

Pues qué busca? dò và? de dònde viene?
Mejor que la que tiene piensa hallarla?
Ha de ser su buscar en infinito?

No busca èl muger, que ya la tiene:
Busca el trabajo dulce de buscarla,
Que es el que enciende al hombre el apetito.

“He who has got a young and beautiful wife, what does he seek in the house of another man’s wife? is his own less fair? is she more brown? is she cold, idle, weak? No such thing. Is she deformed? No, she is graceful. Is she wicked? No certainly, she is virtuous; she is a Venus, a Syren, a fresh lily, and a white rose. What does he then seek? whither goes he? whence comes he? does he think to find a better than he has gotten? is his search to be endless? He does not seek a wife, for he has one already; he seeks the sweet labour of searching, which alone excites the appetite of man.”

The two Odes of Sappho, translated by Don Ignacio de Luzan.

The first, which is the Hymn to Venus, is too long to have a place here. In the Spectator, Nº 223, the English reader may see a translation of it.

The second is translated, as Mr. Addison, in the 229th N° of the Spectator, says of the Latin translation by Catullus, “With the same short turn of expression, which is so remarkable in the Greek, and so peculiar to the Sapphic Ode.”

A los celestes dioses me parece
Igual aquel que junto à tì sentado
De cerca escucha como dulcemente
Hablas, y como

Dulce te ries; lo que à mì del todo
Dentro del pecho el corazon me abrasa.
Mas ay! que al verte, en la garganta un nudo
De habla me priva:

Se me entorpece la lengua, y por todo
El cuerpo un fuego ràpido discurre:
De los ojos no veo: los oidos
Dentro me zumban:

Toda yo tiemblo: de sudor elado
Toda me cubro: al amarillo rostro
Poco faltando para ser de veras
Muerta parezco.

In the above mentioned Spectator is a French, translation by Boileau, and likewise an English one, which are in every body’s hands.

In Dodsley’s collection, 10 is an imitation from the Spanish poem of Quevedo, upon Orpheus and his wife, by the Reverend Dr. Lisle, beginning “When Orpheus went down to the regions below.” The original (which consists of forty lines) is in the third volume of Quevedo’s works, quarto edition. It ends thus: “Happy is the married man, who once becomes single, but superlatively happy is he who twice gets rid of one wife.”

In the volume of el Parnaso, of which I am now giving an account, is a short poem on the same subject by the same hand.

Al infierno el Tracio Orféo
Su muger bajò a buscar,
Que no pudo à peor lugar
Llevarle tan mal deseo.

Cantò, y al mayor tormento
Puso suspension y espanto
Mas que lo dulce del canto
La novedad del intento.

El dios adusto ofendido,
Con un estraño rigor
La pena que hallò mayor
Fue volverle à ser marido.

Y aunque su muger le diò
Por pena de su pecado.
Por premio de lo cantado
Perderla facilitò.

“The Thracian Orpheus descended into hell to seek his wife, as he could not go to a worse place on such a bad errand. He sung, and suspended the greatest torments, not so much by the sweetness of his song, as by the novelty of his intention. The stern god was offended, and as the most rigorous punishment he could devise, permitted him again to become a husband. But though he gave him his wife again to punish him for his crime, yet to reward him for his music, he put him in the way of getting rid of her.”

Sonnet by the same, never before published.

Esta es la informacion, este el proceso
Del hombre que ha de ser canonizado,
En quien, si es que vio el mundo algun pecado,
Advirtiò penitencia con exceso:

Doce años en su suegra estuvo preso,
Á muger y sin sueldo condenado:
Viviò bajo el poder de su cuñado:
Tuvo un hijo no mas, tonto y travieso:

Nunca rico se viò con oro ò cobre:
Viviò siempre contento, aunque desnudo:
No hay incomodidad que no le sobre:

Viviò entre un herrador y un tartamudo:
Fue martir, porque fue casado y pobre:
Hizo un milagro y fue no ser cornudo.

“This is the information and process of the man who is to be canonized; and who, if ever he committed any tin, did superabundant penance for it. He was during twelve years dominated by his step-mother, was condemned to a wife, without wages, lived under the power of a cousin, and had an only son, who was both foolish and disorderly. He never possessed either gold or copper; he lived always contentedly, though he was almost destitute of clothing, and overloaded with afflictions: he lived between a blacksmith and a stutterer; he was a martyr, because he was married and poor; and he performed one miracle, which was, that he never was a cuckold”.

It appears rather extraordinary to meet with such a sonnet in a book licensed by the inquisition.

The next poem I find worthy of notice is a Treatise on Painting, by Pablo de Cespede, 11 painter and poet: it contains seventy six stanzas, each of eight lines. One of the finest passages in this poem is the description of the horse: the author has made great use of Job’s sublime description of that noble animal, see Job, chap, xxxix.

Sonnet by Lupercio Leonardo de Argensola.

Quien casamiento ha visto sin engaños,
Y mas si en dote cuentan la hermosura?
Cosa que hasta gozarla solo dura,
Y os deja al despertar con desengaños.

O menos en la hacienda, ò mas los años:
Y al fin la que parece mas segura
No esta sin una punta de locura,
Y à veces con remiendos de otros daños.

Mucho debes a Julia, Fabio amigo,
Que de tantos peligros te ha librado
Con negarte la fè que te debia.

Tù de que engaña al otro eres testigo,
Y lloras no haver sido el engañado?
Riete sino quieres que me ria.

“Who has ever seen a marriage without fraud, more especially if beauty be part of the portion? which lasts no longer than till it be enjoyed, and leaves one to wake undeceived.

“Either the years of the woman are more, or her estate is less; and even in the safest way marriage is a kind of folly, and only patches up the evils it wished to mend.

“Friend Fabius, thou owest much to Julia, who has permitted thee to escape so many perils, by denying thee her hand; and dost thou, who art witness to the deceit used to others, lament that thou art not the party deceived? Laugh, if thou wilt not have me laugh at thee.”

A Sonnet supposed to be written by Don Diego de Mendoza.

No hay cosa mas gastada, ni traida,
Que la saya de Inès, y el pobre manto:
Un cerrojo de carcel no lo es tanto,
Ni la playa del mar siempre batida:

No les dà hora de huelga la perdida.
En Pascua, ni Domingo, ni Disanto
Y tanto los aqueja, que me espanto
Como no dan al traste con la vida.

La rueda de Ixion, que no sosiega,
Y su pena infernal que no reposa
Respeto de este manto esta parada.

Pero la misma Inès tiene otra cosa
Que su persona y ella no lo niega,
Que està muy mas traida y mas gastada.

“There is nothing more common, nor more worn than the cloak and petticoat of Agnes; a prison-bolt is not more used, nor yet the shores which are eternally beaten by the waves: their mistress never suffers them to rest either on Sundays or holidays, and uses them so much, that I wonder they are not fretted to pieces. The wheel of Ixion, which never rests, and the never-ceasing pain it inflicts, stand still in comparison with this cloak. Never the less the same Agnes has another thing of which she is very liberal, and which is much more worn, and much more often used.”

This sonnet is somewhat in the style of one of Shenstone’s Levities, which begins

“Let Sol his annual journies run.”

The fifth volume is ornamented with the portraits of Fr. Luis de Leon, and el Conde de Rebolledo, and contains nothing but what is called sacred poetry, being songs and sonnets addressed to Christ, to the Virgin Mary, to St. James, to the archangel St. Michael, to the most Holy Trinity, to the Samaritan Woman, to the most Holy Sacrament, part of the Lamentations of Jeremiah, &c. I have not read this volume, but I believe the English reader’s curiosity will be gratified in being acquainted with the subjects of three or four of the sonnets: one of which runs thus:

“A clown asks Faith how the entire, real, and physical body of God can be contained in the sacramental bread, and likewise in every one of its parts when broken? To which Faith answers, that as a looking-glass, though broken into thousands of pieces, still reflects an entire image, so,” &c. &c. &c.

In another sonnet, is a passage which says, “The iron of the lance of Longinus served him for a steel, Christ for a flint, and the Cross for tinder,” &c &c.

The sonnet, in p. 39, is extraordinary, but will not bear an English translation.

The last sonnet in the book is literally thus: “The sovereign Pages of the most holy God, stand with white torches and white tapers in the empyrean palaces; a thousand sorts of Indian incenses and Syriac perfumes smoke upon carpets ornamented with foliages, between amaranths and silvered lilies. The Virgin arrived at the empyrean saloon, (a visit greatly desired by heaven) with the fun for her mantle, and the moon for her pattens. The seraphims prostrated themselves at her feet, the angels sung joyfully to her, and the Holy-Word placed her at his fide.”

The sixth volume consists wholly of dramatic pieces. 12 After a frontispiece representing tragedy, are the two Spanish tragedies written in 1577 by F. Geronimo Bermudez; they are entitled Nise to be pitied, and Nise crowned with laurels, or the History of Doña Inès de Castro princess of Portugal. 13 They are each in five acts, and in blank verse, with double chorusses, of which three are Sapphic.

Then follows The Vengeance of Agamemnon, a tragedy of a single act, in prose, with chorusses, translated from Sophocles by Fernan Perez de Oliva.

The Sorrowful Hecuba, a tragedy of one act, in prose, by the same hand, from Euripides.

Isabela, and Alexandra, two tragedies by Lupercio de Argensola, each of three acts, in blank verse.

These two tragedies are praised by Cervantes in the first part of his Don Quixote. It cannot be expected that I should here give the plot of them, I have thought it sufficient to indicate where they are to be found.

The seventh and last volume contains the portraits of Fernando de Herrera, and Don Luis de Gongora y Argote, and a great number of short miscellaneous poems, from which I shall select the following

Two Epigrams by Baltasar del Alcazar.

Magdalena me picò
Con un alfiler un dedo:
Dijela: picado quedo,
Pero ya lo estaba yo.

Riòse y con su cordura
Acudiò al remedio presto:
Chupòme el dedo, y con esto
Sanè de la picadura.

Mostròme Ines por retrato
De su belleza los pies.
Yo le dije: eso es Ines
Buscar cinco pies al gato.

Riòse, y como eran bellos
Y ella por estremo bella,
Arremeti por cogella,
Y escapòseme por ellos.

I conjecture these epigrams to be somewhat allegorical, and shall not translate them, for a reason which will be obvious to those who understand the Spanish language.

Eight Eclogues by Quevedo, entitled La Bucolica de el Tajo.

A Sonnet by King Charles II. of Spain, not worth inserting, with which I shall embellish and conclude the account of this collection, as the compositions of monarchs are not numerous: it was written about the year 1695.

O rompa ya el silencio el dolor mio,
Y salga de este pecho desatado;
Que sufrir los rigores de callado
No cabe en este pecho, aunque porfio.

De obedecerte, Anarda; desconfio,
Muero de confusion desesperado,
Ni quieres que sea tuyo mi cuidado,
Ni dejas que yo tenga mi alvedrio.

Mas ya tanto la pena me maltrata
Que vence al sufrimiento; ya no espero
Vivir alegre: el llanto se desata;

Y otra vez de la vida desespero:
Pues si me quejo tu rigor me mata,
Y si callo mi mal dos veces muero.

“O let my sorrow break silence, and issue loose out of this breast; for to suffer the rigours of concealment this constant breast can no longer bear. I fear I cannot obey thee, Anarda, I die with despairing confusion, and thou wilt not that my cares shall become thine, nor wilt permit me to use my own free-will. But thy troubles so much ill-treat me, that they vanquish my sufferings; I no more hope to live happily; I must give way to my mourning; I again despair of life; because if I complain, thy rigour kills me, and if I conceal my pain I die twice.”