Chapter Nine: Alfonso as Troubadour: The Fact and the Fiction

THE LIBRARY OF IBERIAN RESOURCES ONLINE Emperor of Culture Robert I. Burns, S.J.

Chapter Nine Alfonso as Troubadour: The Fact and the Fiction Joseph T. Snow

[126] The primary purpose of this essay is to explore, principally within the context of Alfonso X's Cantigas de Santa Maria, the nuances in the presentation of makers and singers of songs, of troubadours and jongleurs, the process of image-making that takes place in that presentation, and the literary purposes discernable once these nuances and processes are clarified. In carrying out this aim, I shall be positing certain a priori arguments, some of which are the result of previous commentary that I and others have presented in earlier studies and some of which are common knowledge. For example, I often use the designation "Alfonso" to refer to the author of the Cantigas. This is, of course, a convention. I do not believe that Alfonso is the author of all of the poems (or the melodies) in this repertorio marial . With Antonio Solalinde ^[1]and many others since, however, I accept the general manner of the king's "making a book . " The many roles the king is said to have played make it clear that he was active in almost every phase of book composition, from sourcebook collecting to editing to sponsorship of the large teams necessary in actual production (the miniaturists, the draftsmen, the scribal musicators , and others).

Of Alfonso's known works, the Cantigas is the one with which he is most personally identified and which may prove to contain important keys -- even at this remove of time -- to the kind of person he was or, better yet, the kind of person he wanted to be. Special mention is accorded to this collection and to continued performances from it in both versions of his testament. ^[2]Alfonso and many members of his family and his court are featured within the precious parchment pages. And although, like many Marian works of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, the Cantigas reflects the wide phenomenon of the efficacy of the Virgin in the affairs of humankind everywhere, the work also reflects the social and political realities of Alfonso's Spain from at least 1257 (when he was elected-albeit never confirmed-emperor of the Holy Roman Empire) to 1281. In addition to [125] this, the miniatures of the twin manuscripts T. I. 1 (at the Escorial library and known as the Códice Rico ^[3])and the unfinished Banco Rari 20 (at the Biblioteca Nazionale in Florence) portray vividly the full kaleidoscope of changing activity, the hustle and the bustle of daily life in the Iberian peninsula of the mid- to late-thirteenth century. The unfinished nature of the half of the Cantigas now at Florence suggests that economic and artistic support for the monumental project terminated with Alfonso's death; in other words, the Cantigas was, for the king who styled himself a troubadour, a work invested with special meaning, meaning that did not transcend his own lifespan.

It is the troubadour aspect of the question that fascinates. I have stated [126]this elsewhere, but it bears repeating: Alfonso adds to the notion of the more-or-less standardized anthology of miracles, all of which would have as a common protagonist the figure of Mary, a second protagonist. This protagonist is present in many parts of the Cantigas but is preeminent in the loores or the songs of praise; and he is seen in the guise, or persona, of a troubadour:

We see that the loores ... join to tell a story. It is a story which begins in the confessional offering of the first palinode poems (Prologue b. 1 and 10 and in which Mary replaces the outros amores of the repentent troubadour of profane poetry); develops in the intervening poems with correct troubadouresque vocabulary, conceits, and formulas and personal declarations elevated to the divine plane of love and worship; and concludes in loor 400 and the following pitiçn. ... The persona of this troubadour is created out of the emotional patterns that define Alfonso's own feelings for the Virgin, his belief in the efficacy of her protection and the need for solace and refuge in times of great personal need. The loores, lyric paeans to a Mary who repeatedly fills these needs, supply us with at least some-albeit not enough-information regarding those emotional patterns. ^[4]

In transposing the troubadour quest to a divine or spiritual plane, and in identifying this song-making activity with himself as king (as in cantiga 300), Alfonso takes an important step in creating the elements of a spiritual autobiography, a process I have begun tracing in other studies. ^[5]There is, of course, an organic structure to the story. There is present, at more than one point, a view to a future and a recapitulation of past events. And there are identifiable units that can be treated as chapters in the story. Basically, the tale is the quest for salvation, one in which I have come to see the importance of the prefigural role of Ildefonso, the seventh-century Toledan saint for whom Alfonso was named and who was considered to have gained his salvation through praise of Mary. ^[6]The tale is updated to Alfonso's time and circumstances, but the parallels are clear. By writing himself into the fabric of the Cantigas, however, and having himself represented in the Códice Rico pictorially at those junctures in which pure Marian praise is offered (as by the troubadour to the domna), that is, at the loores, Alfonso is in effect signing that this is his statement, his story, his offering, his "very small gift" (don pequen[ inn]o,in cantiga 400: 30). It is clear, too, that it is this gift, these cantares e sões, that are designed to be a decisive factor in his pitiçon for an entry into paradise where he will be able to gaze for all eternity upon his noble liege lady, as in the conclusion to cantiga 402: "May it be your wish that I see you there, where you are, when I depart from here" [ i . e., from [127] this life on earth] (E queredeque vos veja ali l u vos sodes , quando me for daqui).

Viewing the world about them from the perspective of a troubadour or a jongleur was for many thirteenth-century poets easy to do, for the importance and the impact of this poetic school had long been the dominant lyric mode radiating outward from various courts of southern France. For such as Saint Francis of Assisi, however, who called himself the giullari di Dio, or for Gonzalo de Berceo, the juglar de Santo Domingo, there is the same sense of distance from the true professional thing as we might find in the Cantigas of Alfonso. Like St. Francis and Gonzalo, Alfonso saw the inevitable separation of his own poetizing from that which was traditional or characteristic among the various classes of professionals, even then in manifest decline but welcome always at his court.^[7]These poets were all using the term, principally, for its connotation of singer and praiser of a religious figure, a divine presence, without claiming ever to be in reality a member of any group of professionals. It is hardly necessary to belabor this point, except to note that Alfonso did not adduce the comparison without developing it, as did the saint of Assisi and the monk of Berceo for whom the conceit is not extended. As is implied in the extensive quote above, Alfonso's ongoing recourse to the troubadour manner in his own art of poetry in the Cantigas requires special study.

I want to elaborate this distinction further, judging it as I do to be vital to Alfonso's design for this work and for its ultimate purpose. For Berceo and St. Francis, direct composition of music does not seem to be a factor in their artistic lives, whereas the opposite is true of Alfonso. We have, in the texts themselves, repeated claims to authorship of both lyrics and melodies. One of many examples is cantiga 401: "Though few songs with music have I finished" (Maçar poucos cantares acabei e con son). And the independent witness of Alfonso's secretary, the Franciscan Juan Gil de Zamora, supports these statements: "For the praise of the glorious Virgin he composed many beautiful story-songs, [rhythmically] measured with agreeable sounds and musical proportions" (ad preconium Virginis gloriose multas et perpulchras composuit cantinelas, sonis convenientibus et proportionibus musicis modulatas) . ^[8]Thus, as a composer of both verse and musical accompaniment, Alfonso was more by way of being a troubadour than others who made use of the metaphor so liberally. Still, one vital distinction remains. The first of the troubadours, William IX the count of Poitiers and duke of Aquitaine, he who did so much to establish the basic archetypes of our views of courtly relationships between men and women, was clearly a troubadour but yet [128] not a professional, one whose livelihood depended on his skill and success as a composer or singer. With time, however, the proliferation of authors, poets, composers, and performers gradually created classes, and large numbers of these came to expect payment for their work as entertainers. The distinctions too, perhaps clear to many at an earlier time, came to be obfuscated in Alfonso's era. Witness the exchange between Guiraut Riquier , the so-called last of the troubadours, and our Alfonso over such matters, in the " Supplicatio " of Riquier and the response or "Declaratio" of Alfonso (written for him in Provencal by Riquier , as we now believe). There the querulous Riquier is finally declared to be don doctor de trobar . ^[9]What we have to learn from this episode is that, at a time when Alfonso was clearly creating a troubadour persona for his beloved Cantigas and was consciously composing in the Occitan style, Riquier's request would receive Alfonso's attention as a matter of great moment. Alfonso's solution is conservative, favoring the tradition of separation of inventores and ioculatori , and reflecting distinctions to be seen in his own Cantigas.

We come to this distinction: there is, on one hand, the art with which the Cantigas are being elaborated, and on the other, the representation of that art or style of art in the text and miniatures of the Cantigas. In this difference and in its nuancing , we may perceive a process of composition (or of organizing, since I freely admit that Alfonso's is often more the guiding hand than the writing hand) that depends more on maintaining the difference than in stressing the parallels and commonalities forging the link between one kind of troubadour and another. To take a professional troubadour as an example, Guiraut expected his rewards in material coin, so to speak; and his texts, every bit as self-conscious as some of Alfonso's in this same regard, often speak, praisingly or disparagingly, of gained or postponed satisfaction. ^[10]His reputation, and his earthly well-being, might stand or fall on such things, especially among his fellows, for whom jealousy and the spirit of competition for rewards were professional realities. Alfonso's troubadourship , based on earlier models of love cansos, existed in a continuous state of expectation of reward, one that could never be satisfied -- not, that is, while he remained alive . And rather than living in a competitive working world, as did real troubadours (and their lesser brethren performers), his mission might broadly be defined as to serve as an example to others. This gap between the secular and the divine becomes increasingly more essential to my "reading" of the Cantigas, for it is there dwells the narrative and lyric tension of the story itself.

Having postulated this distinction, at least provisionally, we may now [129]test it. Alfonso, king and sometimes troubadour, devises for his Cantigas -- a collection of a hundred basic units (texts and music, with no illustration other than the presentation miniature which one would expect) -- the persona of an Alfonso. ^[11]He is named in Prologue A (cast in the third person) but is not so named in the all-important Prologue B (cast now in the first person, now speaking as a troubadour). Between the two, somewhere, a crown is exchanged for more humble headgear, the scepter for the pen, the rule of a kingdom on earth for the hope of service to the Queen of Heaven. One, the real Alfonso, controls the development and growth of the other, the fictional Alfonso, as the idea of the Cantigas takes on greater bulk and, in so doing, becomes ever more permeated with the presence of the two, the real and the fictional troubadours. This continues until, at the close in poems 400, 401, and 402, they have clearly merged. We then find ourselves back at a familiar beginning, only richer for the journey and for the exposure to this facet of the mind of Alfonso X. Time has passed for the Cantigas (perhaps two decades or more), and time has passed for the "Alfonso" who undertook them long years ago. The work of composing his own texts, making his own music, and commissioning such other texts as he deemed appropriate from those Solalinde termed los continuadores de la obra primitiva ^[12]was at an end. But why create this dichotomy in the first place? I suggest that Alfonso uses it as a means of sorting through the levels of acceptance the term troubadour had gained by the mid- to late-thirteenth century; and culling out some of the more elevated ones for application to his own quest, he enriches and expands upon that role. He desires to set himself apart but also seeks to establish himself as a leader of men and women, as a model for others to emulate (even professional troubadours). In setting himself apart, he cultivates Mary's special friendship, fictionalizes his art, and offers it as a small token, albeit a meritorious service, of his own devotion. It is a personal response to her loyalty to him. If he fails as a sinner, he will make up some lost ground as a worthy singer; and this is the fact that Alfonso never seems to lose sight of in those cantigas that carry the narrative of his troubadouresque quest for life's highest reward: salvation.

Where this divinized troubadour intersects with the special features of the traditional Frauendienst , service to the lady, is in his alter-ego status as sinner. It also marks the difference. The professional troubadour may be unworthy of his lady's notice (or believe that such is the case), but he owns no wrongdoing. The divinized troubadour in search of salvation, as his lady's gift to him, must somehow overcome his sin, exculpate himself with good works and still, in the end, have to throw himself on her mercy, her [130]bêes, in the hope that his motives will be read as clean ones. The dichotomy between kinds of troubadours, if I have here been reading the story of the Cantigas correctly, has been assumed in many previous studies (my own included) to be mere posture-adopting metaphor-making of a superior, even a smug, kind. The initial palinode, as I see it now, carries the additional meaning of having us see that the persona himself is not only changing one set of love objects for another but also protecting a changed self at the same time or, at the very least, a renewed image of a larger self, with greater potential for spiritual growth.

With the palinode, the persona begins a journey, even a limited one, toward better self-knowledge:
What I want is to make praises of the Virgin
... and therefore do I wish evermore to be

her troubadour and beg her that

she grant that I may be her troubadour and that she

will accept my songs...

O que quero é dizer loor da Virgen

... e por aquest'euqueroseeroymais

seu trobador e rogo-lle que me

queira por seu trobador e que queira

meu trobar receber... [Prologue B]

With the palinode, the persona begins a journey, even a limited one, toward better self-knowledge: What I want is to make praises of the Virgin ... and therefore do I wish evermore to be her troubadour and beg her that she grant that I may be her troubadour and that she will accept my songs...	O que quero é dizer loor da Virgen ... e por aquest'euqueroseeroymais seu trobador e rogo-lle que me queira por seu trobador e que queira meu trobar receber... [Prologue B]

This aspiration bears repeating in cantiga I: "From this time hence do I desire to speak in song / for my honored Lady" (Des oge mais quer'eutrobar I pola Sennoro nrrada). It finds its definitive formation in number ten:


If I can gain the love of this Lady whom I accept as my liege and of whom I wish to be troubadour, all other loves shall I leave to the devil.	Esta dona que tenno por Sennor e de que queroseertrobador seeu perrenposs'averseu amor, dou ao demo os outros amores.

The gain compared with losses of the past, expressed here, completes the earlier sentiment of Prologue B: "now I abandon efforts to praise in song / another lady, and think to recover / with [Mary] all that I have squandered on others" (e ar querrei -me leixar de trobar / des i por outra dona, e cuid'a cobrar / per esta quant'enas outras perdi ) . This marvelous contrast between [131] reward and loss, between earthly women and the Virgin, is fruitfully exploited in the now recontextualized opposition Ave/Eva (cantiga 6o) and in the alternations of acceptance and rejection (of earthly domna and heavenly Domna ) that give a special cast to the refrains of cantiga 130.

Lest we think that this palinode is meant to be a personal affair between the persona and Mary, we should be proved wrong; on the contrary, it turns out to be rather a public turning point. The troubadour of the Cantigas wants his quest to be noticed, for nothing could be better than to have served as a means to an even greater following for this "Rosadasrosas":


Let her give to me such reward as she gives to those she loves, and whoever learns this will more willingly lift his voice in song for her.	Que me dégualar don com'eladá aos que ama; e queno souber porela mais de grado trobará. [Prologue B]

We might cite one more happy vignette of this generalized picture of the ideal world, hands joined in praise of Mary: "May the crowned Virgin / who is our hope / be praised by us / in song and in dance" (Cantando e con dança / seja por nos loada / a Virgen coróada I que e noss'asperanca). Over and against this vision, almost Utopian in its dimensions, is the richer subtext in which the carefully cultivated difference between the fictionally autobiographical troubadour of the Cantigas is dramatically opposed to others who practice the craft:


Tell me, o troubadours, why do you not praise with your song the Fairest of the fair? If indeed you know how to compose songs, why do you not do so for her from whom you have access to God?	Dized', ai trobadores a Sennor daz sennores porque a non loades? Se vos trobarsabedes, a que por Deus avedes porque a non loades? [Cantiga 260]

By now, this has exceeded the limits of a fictional metaphor, used to initiate a particular poem or to set the tone for a collection of this sort. It has [132] become part of a complete (and developing, at this point) narrative story line that never strays far from the goals set out for it in the overall architecture of the compilation, into which it has now been inextricably imbedded. The result is that this second protagonist begins to interest us more and more, and we look for increasing evidence of his developing portrait in the remaining poems. We are not disappointed. In those poems, Mary is seen more as the suitor's ineffably kind benefactor, working her wonders out of an active blend of her love and loyalty, than as a lady waiting to be pleased but somewhat aloof and removed. As Alfonso and Mary exist outside the fiction of the Cantigas, so also do they exist inside it: the many visual depictions may be "read" by the viewer as wish fulfillment, as realizations on vellum of a smiling Mary, nodding with frequent approval on the songs of praise of this most faithful entendedor-troubadour- shown, unmistakably, crowned.

Alfonso X, king of Castile and León, sings mightily of the pure love he feels for Mary, a love far exceeding the love possible with earth-bound ladies. If the latter love is to be abandoned, it is because the former is attainable and lasts forever. Even though we are witness to Alfonso's abandonment of the pursuit of other loves (os outros amores), and Mary is the substitute for the domna sought after by the canso -composing troubadours of the Midi, there is also the sense -- within the overall scope of the Cantigas -- that it is also the love of all related earthly pursuits that Alfonso seems most strongly to reject. Again, we may usefully read cantiga 300 for a fuller picture of this point of view, in which loyalty, that rarest of qualities, is so much and so fervently valued.

The standard pose of the professional troubadour before his lady requires humility. Still, both walk the same ground. This is not so in the fictionalized case of the Cantigas's persona, however, where the sinner/ singer stands before a dweller of paradise. Hence, there is more than assumed humility: the original metaphor has taken on the coloration of a spiritual reality. It is about this distinction that Alfonso makes much ado in this spiritual self-portrait, as the Cantigais troubadour wanders in and around the varied settings of the collection. Once more, we see that a contrast of consequence is allowed to give shape and meaning to the distinction between Alfonso's persona and the real-life situation of the professional troubadour. Balanced against the expected gains and favor of Mary that Alfonso seeks, the more mundane objectives of the secular troubadour pale into insignificance. Even his art passes on to a new plane where special comprehension - entendimento and razon-is required (Prologue B) [133] The air Alfonso breathes in this idealization is as rare as it is sweet: the object of his affections, while not physically present, exerts a stronger pull on his being. Such troubadours as this one, who deploy their talents to reach for this vastly richer, timeless treasure, sharing as they must in the expectations Alfonso has, will gain lasting (i.e., eternal) life. Alfonso, using his pursuit and wooing as example, clearly sends out his message: "Do as I do. "

This then, in part at least, is the troubadour art with which the Cantigas were joined and fitted, resulting in a structural edifice in which a divinized entendedor could peaceably contemplate his destiny and his relationship with his hostess Mary, whose praises are the major adornment of the several rooms of the edifice. In this mosaic of text, music, and miniature art, what other representations show performing artist? And what relationship do they bear to the self-portrait of the troubadour persona at the center? How did Alfonso, the architect of the edifice, view the professional entertainers other than the fictional Alfonso for whom he had it built? There are twelve cantigas which allow a glimpse of musicians, composers, jongleurs, mimes, and other classes of professional entertainers. Some are laymen, others clerics, some good-hearted, others less well-meaning. What they have in common may be limited to their livelihood and some contact with the Virgin; but that is enough, for the moment, to make them of interest.

Cantiga 8. The figure at the center here is named Pedro de Sigrar: he is identified as jograr, and one sees (even in the miniatures) that "he could sing well, and he played even better"(mui ben cantar sabia e mui mellor violar). With these arts, he intoned lays to Mary, which he repeated in all the churches. Like Alfonso, then, his songs are centered around Mary, but his ostensible reward is more modest than the monarch's. Should his songs find acceptance, he desires a wax candle. They do, and it is given.

Cantiga 56. The encounter is with a monk who could read very little (sabia leer mui poco ), but who composed five psalms in service to Mary so that, we discover, he may earn from her the reward of serving her son (tal galardon per que podesse veer o seu Filio piadoso [31-33]). Upon his death, five roses spring from his mouth, one for each of the songs. Thus is this candid soul rewarded. Note he is not a member of a professional group of entertainers. Note too that he is a composer, and the constancy of his devotion earned him an answer to his prayers.

Cantiga 194. This one tells how Mary rescued a jograr from some people who would kill him and steal what he carried with him. This fellow [134] plied well his chosen metier from court to court- andando pelas cones. He sang well-apost'esenvergonna (e. g., songs of a good character, no ribaldry). Despite this, his host, in cahoots with a confederate, plots to waylay him the next day and relieve him of his earnings. A prayer to Mary is answered and the attack foiled even as it is being carried out. The jongleur goes freely on his way, praising Mary (dando mui grandes loores aa Virgen groriosa). We have in this fortunate entertainer a devotee of Mary (it is clear that she is well-disposed toward him); but his goals have not shifted to become comparable to the goals of the persona, second protagonist of these Cantigas.

Cantiga 202. The Parisian archdeacon of San Victor made a song of praise ( fez ú a prosa de ssa loor ) and was short a rhyme word. This was his habit: he much enjoyed praising the goodness of Mary and her troubadour qualities of mesura, prez , and valor. He went before Mary's altar to pray for a rhyme word and was pleased and thankful when it was supplied. One only has to imagine his deep pleasure and surprise when, passing before an image of the Holy Mother, it leaned over and whispered her thanks to him: "Muitas graças, meu sennor . " ^[13]

Cantiga 238. This tells the story of another jongleur who was given to dice-rolling and who spoke ill of God and his Mother when he lost. He is painted black from the outset of the tale. When he blasphemes, he is struck dumb (nunca mais falou nada ) . The devil takes him off. It is important to know that, in addition to his offense, he was not a good practitioner of his art; he did not praise Mary and was given to abusing his artistic gifts.

Cantiga 259. This curious cantiga does indeed deal with two jongleurs, but their art is not the focal point. Aware of their lack of feeling for each other, Mary causes them to be friends and gives them a curative candle (for St. Martial's fire, erysipelas). Their journey is impeded by a bishop, who then contracts the disease and is cured only subsequent to recognizing his error.

Cantiga 279. In this poem, Mary cures a king. From the context, he can be none other than Alfonso. Her intervention is called for and justified by the fact that the ailing king is her loador or, even more expressly, her troubadour-as in the refrain "Holy Mary, give succour / and aid to your troubadour, / for it goes ill with him" (Santa Maria, valed, ai Sennor, I e acorred'avosso trobador I que mal le vai). Alfonso is not named, and the cantiga is cast in the third person. No argument can be made for Alfonso's authorship of this composition, but the rubrics used to identify this king, as vosso loadorand vosso trobador, make a search for any other troubadour-king superfluous.

[135] Cantiga 291. A young student from Salamanca winds up imprisoned in Toro and remembers to call upon the Virgin, in whom he has great trust. He writes a song for her then and there, in prison, and sings it. In the event, he is let go (Mary at work behind the scene) and he serves Mary actively ever after, we are told. Even though again the protagonist is not a professional troubadour, the efficacy of turning to Mary, of singing her praises, and staying on that path is the point the composer of these lyrics has in mind. He concludes: "And that's why I've recounted / this happening, that you should take great delight in honoring her" (E poren vos contei / este feito que ajades gran sabor de a onrrar ) . We sense that the form of honor intended by the author of cantiga 291 (perhaps Alfonso, or one of the continuadores familiar with his blueprint for the Cantigas)might easily have read: dizer looror trobar, to sing her praises.

Cantiga 293. Akin to cantiga 238 is this poem in which a remedador or mime, who turns a nice profit with his imitations, runs afoul of Mary when -- inspired by the devil -- he mimics her and her babe in arms. His punishment is a twisted mouth and arm. When he recants, this is undone. Again, we are presented with a professional entertainer who should know better and should use his talents in other, nobler ways.

Cantiga 307. This poem takes place in Sicily during a 40-day sequence of volcanic eruption. One day, in the form of a vision, the Virgin appears to a good man (bõo ome) with a curious proposition: "If you wish that an end be made to this calamity, / have a song composed / that is worthy of me, well done in my honor" (Se tu queres que sse tolla este mal, / un cantar me façan que seja [a]tal / qual a mi conven, benfeit'a mía loor). This the good man does, first the words and then the music; and then, in good troubadour style, he sings it. Mary keeps her word and the volcanic rocking ceases. Assuming this is not one of Alfonso's compositions, it is easy to see why it must have appealed greatly to him and why he had it recast in Galician-Portuguese for the Cantigas: such loores are beloved of the Virgin and, when composed in the proper spirit and style, are efficacious in earning her favor.

Cantiga 316. This introduces a cleric from Portugal, Martin Alvitez, a troubadour: rather than of love, he sang of ridicule in his songs (que sas cantigas fazia d'escarnho mais ca d'amor[15-16]). When he burns down a rival church through jealousy, the cleric is made blind, a situation later reversed when he completes its reconstruction. What attracts attention is his confession, worth citing in full:


... My Lady, I was foolish to sing for another lady, for I have had no relief [136] from my suffering; therefore, I come before you to swear that so long as I shall live, I shall no more sing or compose songs for any other, for it is [now] not necessary; rather for you will I with all my heart sing all the praise that I can; and henceforth do I desire to be your troubadour.	... Sennor, eufol fui de que trobei por outra dona, ca nihúa prol non ouv'ya a mia coita. Poren te venno jurar... [q]ue enquant'euvivo seja, nunca por outra moller trobe nen cantares faça oy mais, ca non mi á mester; mais por ti direi de grado quanto ben dizer poder, e des aqui adeante quero ja por ti trobar. [51-58]

Here it is only necessary to remark the conceptual and verbal similarity to the Alfonsine palinode series (Prologue B, cantigas 1 and 10), of which it seems to be a familiar calque. The thematic link too needs to be kept in mind: here is an artist who misused his gifts singing more the songs of escarnho than of love. The incident of the miracle narration clearly puts him on the path of Alfonso (in these Cantigas); his positive reformation would serve as a model for those others of his fellow poets of secular jests whom Alfonso chides in cantiga 260 (see above, p. 131). The appeal of this account is clear: the links to the frame story of the persona of the narrative are unmistakable. The composition ends with these last words of his speech to Mary, and with the repetition of the refrain. No further words seem called for.

Cantiga 363. This account is important for the identification made in it. A talented singer is imprisoned in Gascony , accused of using his song to criticize society. Thinking that his end is near, he calls on Mary, promising to evermore sing of her love should she avail him in his hour of distress. He is wondrously transported elsewhere and liberated from his incarceration. His days are then consumed in keeping his promise to Mary. While not much is made of his song, it does seem clear that this is yet another case of misapplied talents that find new directions (the glories of Mary's love). The lines of greatest interest would be 27 to 28: "and, lying there, he swore to her that he would, while he drew breath , / sing of her love, of which we sing" (e jurou-ll'ali jazendo, que mentre vivesse / polo seu amor trobasse , de que nos trobamos [emphasis mine]). Is this we Alfonso, speaking in his royal person, or speaking editorially, or even speaking as the self-appointed leader of troubadours (all who praise Mary may be so classed, broadly speaking) seeking only after the one great, eternal gualardon : salvation? Whether [137] Alfonso was himself author or not of 363, it cannot fail to impress itself upon us that once again, in connection with a miracle tale in which a troubadour is featured, the opportunity is taken to assert the leadership that is posited by the very presence of a troubadour persona as a second protagonist in the mosaic that is the Cantigas.

Having seen how Alfonso as artist/troubadour is present as the creator/designer/architect of the Cantigas, and having seen how Alfonso as artist/troubadour is present as sinner/singer within the Cantigas, it may be time for taking stock. First, given the obvious importance of the entire range of troubadour vocabulary, imagery, and formal art to the texture of the Cantigas de Santa Maria as a compilation of texts with music, it would be surprising not to have found-among its almost 2,000 miniatures-a generous sampling of these entertainers; remedadores, jograres, trobadores. These do appear; they come from Spain, Portugal, France, Italy, Gascony , and Catalonia. They compose, sing, and entertain in other ways, are both lay and clerical, inexperienced and experienced, well-behaved and mischievous, devout and mocking. By and large, they earn their living as performers, though this is not always the case, as we have seen from the dozen cantigas reviewed above.

With one notable exception (no. 279), these Cantigas depictions are not truly representative of the rich spectrum of Provencal (high or debased) style present in Alfonso's court and, previously, in the court of his father Fernando III. That is, the troubadours we might expect to see -- the Peire Cardenals , ^[14]the Cerver de Gironas, the Guiraut Riquiers , all of whom were well-known practitioners of the high troubadour manner, the latter two recognizing in divers texts of their own Alfonso's devotion to Mary -- these types of troubadours seem by and large curiously absent. Riquier himself, during the ten years he spent at Alfonso's court, also penned some Marian loores, doubtless influenced by his patron's dedication to the Cantigas. Can at least a plausible reason be provided by way of justifying this absence? I think so: it seems a role Alfonso was reserving for himself, for his persona, for his servus Mariae . He cast himself as the model, the troubadour who would lead other troubadours, the sinner who would turn other sinners onto the upward path toward the greater reward.

The performer as model is such a constant narrative component of the Cantiga's story that it cannot be downplayed by any who would understand the controlling metaphors that provide it with its special organic unity (apart from the very presence of the Virgin, of course). If the very performance of the praise is the important element, then the vision of all 138] mankind joining together in a highly joyful dance of life (in cantiga 409 cited above) serves as a kind of apotheosis of the metaphor of the performer: we can all be (potentially speaking) performers/sinners, working out the means to our salvation, if we but dedicate ourselves. ^[15]In the story of the Cantigas, the tale of one such performer's dedication has been sketched. We have seen, as well, some performers turning from this world to Mary (recall the protagonists of cantigas 291, 316, and 363); these are examples of the troubadours called to task in 260 for not doing so. Especially does cantiga 316 reflect the very same turning away previously expressed in Alfonso's own palinodic sequence from the earliest version (the Toledo MS) of the Cantigas.

In all of the inserted performer-type cantigas (excepting 238, the mime or remedador), the efforts to please Mary are met with success, in that the Virgin is deeply pleased, grateful, and/or obliged. Sometimes this is owing to the persistence of the performer, already a devotee of Mary. At other times, it is owing to a change in the way the performer's art is used-that is, when he abandons simple displays of virtuosity (as in the composing of cantigas d'escarnho)for expression in a more spiritual register. ^[16]This better employment of one's artistic talent is a rich theme in the Cantigas, one Alfonso uniquely exploits. What seems clear, then, is that the choice of performer-centered episodes for the Cantigas has much to do with the thematic nucleus centered on the activities of the troubadour persona within. Moreover, it would be easy to make a small series of statements that could apply to the collection as a whole: (I ) Cantar ben is the same as loar a Maria; (2) Mary likes praise (dignified and appropriate, to be sure); (3) to abuse one's artistic gifts is tantamount to devoting one's time to ridicule ( escarnho ] or to outros amores; (4) praising Mary -- despite the impossibility of ever doing justice to a project almost by definition impossible to achieve, so many are Mary's mercies, or bêes -- is rewarding, though requiring a quasi-superhuman effort; and (5) mocking Mary (as did the remedador) is inevitably destructive to the one who attempts such acts.

Alfonso is aware of all of this, and thus controls it all from a point above the level of the narrative -- as narrator-organizer of the story of the fictional Alfonso-troubadour. His warning is never taken lightly, not even by the persona. In fact, the persona is precisely where the two classes of troubadours meet in the Cantigas: the image of the troubadour as a professional is made possible by close adherence to the living (and dead) models Alfonso had before him as prototypes, and whose art and style he was not only adapting and borrowing but also attempting to revitalize. His esteem [139] of performer at the pinnacle of the performance hierarchy, the don doctor de trobar (conceded to Riquier as I earlier noted ), seems to have been genuine. It inspired him, in this literary actualization of one of his social roles, to cast himself as a professional troubadour, now, however, raised to a spiritual plane in which he could explore the path to salvation through a real service to Mary, a service that is manifest in these same Cantigas.

If it has been of any use at all to maintain this distinction between the professional and the occasional troubadour, for the purposes of this discussion, it is this: it has allowed us to perceive more clearly the dual roles I attribute to Alfonso as artist. Alfonso, of course, plays many roles connected to the production of these Cantigas de Santa Maria. But the two important roles are both as artist, and we ought not confuse them. The first is as artist-creator, the king who was eminently capable of writing text and composing music. The second is related to the setting down of a literary record of the meaning of the labor invested in the design and elaboration of a specific work of literature: this record is contained within the confines of the work itself, and although literary, the record retains an autobiographical relationship with the work and activity of the artist-creator outside the work. Thus, the fictional persona, also a troubadour, is both created and (within his proper roles) a creator. The persona as creator mainly preoccupies himself with the production o f loores, or songs of praise: remember that he appears in some, but not a plurality, of the total number of cantigas in the compilation. In those texts, he is both described and graphically depicted in varying attitudes of praise. The presentation miniature depicts Alfonso as composing, perhaps dictating, even while musicians rehearse the music. If this reflects a real scene, as some think, the very self- referentiality of it is never any less strong than in those many more miniatures of the crowned king (troubadour persona) that illustrate the loores in the Códice Rico. The effect for Alfonso-the-creator of having created, in his own image, an Alfonso-the-created, is to gain the distance needed for the approach to the daunting task of putting himself in a position of intimacy, or quasi-intimacy, with Mary. One step removed from reality, the persona offers shelter or a defense against assuming too much arrogance, while it simultaneously provides the comfort of maintaining an interior dialogue with himself about the mysteries of faith and the chance of salvation. An idealization it is, that is certain; and it may also be a projection, a hope, a wish, a desire placed thus safely into words (and music).

The many coincidences and the overlap between king and troubadour [140] throughout the Cantigas (texts and miniatures) really are a kind of signature. It matters little whether Alfonso was the actual author of each and every one of the cantigas in which the story of this second protagonist is told. It does matter that Alfonso chooses to maintain a distinction between his real labor in creating the Cantigas and the created image within (with which he may very well have had active, and understanding, collaboration). The story itself reveals that these very Cantigas in praise of Mary are the revelation of the persona's hope of the reward of seeing his beloved Mary in paradise. Close examination of the closure poems (400, 401, and 402) shows that these are made more intelligible when read (or heard) in the light of the opening poems, those already alluded to as the palinodic sequence. And what gives them all the extra level of enrichment is the engagement of the persona of the troubadour with the Queen of Heaven: he begs her guidance at one end of his poetic journey, and her grace and understanding at the other.

In the interim, the tension of the relationship is kept acute by the binary opposition of the humility of the sinner and the pride of the singer. In raising the metaphor of the troubadour, his social context (entorno), and his professional status to the level of the divine, Alfonso introduces the new element of the sinner into the mix. This is what we scholars have too often overlooked, as we have made our equations between the living troubadour who is also king and the troubadour of the fictional world, through whose guise he is able better to express his own worldly frustration, even as he is engaged in an all-important quest for redress. We should not fail to see how, and to what extent, the Cantigas de Santa Maria are truly the work in which Alfonso allows us to peer into the window of his soul and to share with him the experience of the one truth and the one loyalty which for him could never be in doubt.

Notes for Chapter Nine