The fact that Diego de Zúñiga is a frequent combination of names in

Spain is an embarrassment to the investigator. It is noticeable that

Luis de Leon's references seem to imply some doubt as to his

opponent's real name; he is obviously uncertain whether his accuser

should be called Zúñiga or Rodriguez,[109] and in this uncertainty he

is not alone.[110] It appears that there were at least two

Augustinians known as Diego de Zúñiga in Luis de Leon's time; it

further appears that neither of the two inherited from his father the

surname which he habitually used. Both men claimed relationship with

the Duque de Béjar--it was to the seventh Duque de Béjar that

Cervantes dedicated the First Part of _Don Quixote_ in 1605--and both

assumed the family name of that illustrious stock.[111] The original

name of the more celebrated of these Zúñigas was Diego Arias;[112] the

original name of the less celebrated was Rodriguez.[113] This is not

decisive, but it may well be one of those small facts which speak

volumes. Chronology confirms the conclusion to be drawn from these

considerations. The Zúñiga who appeared against Luis de Leon at

Valladolid was evidently professed as early as 1559 or 1560;[114] the

more celebrated Zúñiga was not professed till 1566.[115] General

considerations point in the same direction. The views of Zúñiga

(_alias_ Arias) were approximately those of Luis de Leon;[116] he

viewed matters from the same standpoint, was himself a university

professor,[117] and had something of Luis de Leon's fearlessness.[118]

Zúñiga (_alias_ Rodriguez) was a man of a very different type:

pedantically attached to the letter of the law, morbidly scrupulous on

points of discipline. There seems to be no touch of burlesque

intention in Luis de Leon's presentment of the man. According to Luis

de Leon, Zúñiga (_alias_ Rodriguez) was half-crazed with vanity, much

given to boasting of the esteem in which he was held at the Papal

Court. On one occasion, the fatuous Zúñiga produced a short treatise

entitled _Manera para aprender todas las ciencias_, and, stating that

he proposed sending this pamphlet to the Pope, made bold to ask what

his interlocutor thought of it. Can he have been vain enough to expect

a favourable verdict? If so, he did not know his man. Luis de Leon

drily expressed his regret that a work destined for the Pope should be

so slight and should contain a number of rather commonplace passages

such as might be found in any current book of reference--though, as he

added politely, he assumed that these passages were the fruit of

independent reading. This courteous assumption, which Zúñiga hastily

assured Luis de Leon was exact,[119] could not alter the fact that the

ambitious author had been severely snubbed, and this snub may well

have rankled in the mind of a man who is described as 'vindictive'.

Zúñiga had another grievance against Luis de Leon, who had taken a

severe view of his companion's insolence to an official superior at a

Provincial Chapter, and had joined in making representations the

upshot of which was that the culprit was publicly and ignominiously

punished.[120] It is well-nigh incredible that the Zúñiga who

championed Copernicus, and displays vigilant self-restraint in his

writings, should have been guilty of such flightiness as is brought

home to his namesake; it is by no means inconceivable that the Zúñiga

who deposed against Luis de Leon should have been guilty of occasional

lapses. He is said to have been impetuous as well as vindictive;[121]

he had the dangerous gift of pulpit eloquence[122] and may have

acquired the trick of saying rather more than he meant. His evidence

against Luis de Leon, though fluent and clear, is not what we should

expect from a man of talent, who recognized the gravity of the charges

against the prisoner. His testimony, such as it is, has less

intellectual substance than the testimony of Castro and Medina; it

turns mainly on petty personal questions or on points of morbid

scrupulousness. The more closely his evidence is scrutinized, the more

difficult is it to avoid the suspicion that Zúñiga was not a perfectly

trustworthy witness. For instance, according to his sworn statement he

was thirty-six years old when he deposed at Toledo on November 4,

1572.[123] The declaration is made positively without any of the

qualifying phrases--'about', 'nearly', 'more or less'--so frequent on

the part of witnesses. Nevertheless, it seems possible that this

assertion is erroneous. Zúñiga refers to a discussion respecting Arias

Montano which he had with Luis de Leon in the latter's cell some

thirteen years previously. At this time Zúñiga would, on his own

showing, be but twenty-three. From what we know of Luis de Leon, it

seems improbable that he would admit to his confidential intimacy a

man so much his junior. No doubt Zúñiga (or Rodriguez) was young at

the time--hardly old enough, by his own reckoning, to be an ordained

priest--a _mancebo_, as he seemed to Luis de Leon's retrospicient

eyes.[124] Yet it is very hard to believe that Zúñiga was no more than

twenty-three when he took it upon himself to cast doubts on the

orthodoxy of Benito Arias Montano;[125] nor is it likely that Luis de

Leon would discuss so delicate a topic with the most brilliant of

youths. Let it not be said that the question of Zúñiga's accuracy in

stating his age is relatively unimportant. It is highly relevant; for,

if Zúñiga were capable of making a mistake on such a point, he was

manifestly more liable to error when dealing with other matters on

which he necessarily knew less. However, Zúñiga's evidence is not

weighty enough to call for detailed examination. He may be left to

bear the burden of Luis de Leon's scorn. I am more concerned here to

suggest that, on the facts before us, we are not compelled to identify

the Zúñiga who deposed against Luis de Leon with a namesake of a

higher intellectual type. To us who read the testimony in cold blood,

more than three centuries after it was given, it seems that Luis de

Leon deals as impartially with his brethren as with members of other

religious orders. This was not his intention, at any rate. He knew his

fellow-Augustinians better than he could know the rest, and he himself

tells us not obscurely that, out of consideration for his gown, he was

silent on various matters which, if proclaimed aloud, would not make

for edification.[126]

Members of the Valladolid Court could see for themselves that while

Luis de Leon's opponents--Dominicans, Jeromites, and the rest--were

banded solidly against him, the Augustinians were by no means

unanimous in his favour. That he was difficult to deal with personally

the Court had opportunities of knowing. His unbending fidelity to

principle and his impetuosity probably produced on the tribunal an

impression of obstinacy combined with caprice. On May 6, 1573, a

certain Dr. Ortiz de Funes was, as is recorded, nominated counsel to

the prisoner;[127] there is no reason to suppose that Ortiz de Funes

was in ability below the average level of the bar, but he was no match

for his client, and though he may have given valuable advice on purely

legal points, when these arose, it soon became plain that Luis de Leon

was the brain of the defence and that he meant to conduct that defence

in his own way. Ortiz de Funes became a nullity or, at least, a mere

figure-head whose main duty consisted in signing papers which the

prisoner had drawn up. A time came when, according to the practice of

the Inquisition, it became necessary for Luis de Leon to nominate

_patronos_, and in this matter Ortiz de Funes intervened somewhat more

prominently than was usual with him. A _patrono_ has no exact

counterpart in English ecclesiastical law; it was his business, within

narrow limits, to defend the interests of the accused from the

theological point of view. On June 26, 1574, Luis de Leon was brought

into court, and was told that he was to choose two _patronos_ out of

four men whose names were given him.[128] He was obviously taken aback

at this proposal, and replying that, since he did not know any of the

four, he was ignorant as to their qualifications, added that he had

already requested the appointment of Sebastian Perez, professor of

Theology at Párraces, as _patrono_. He renewed his request, adding

that either Dr. Cáncer or the Dominican Hernando del Castillo could be

appointed with Perez; but before any determination was taken, he

begged leave to consult his legal adviser.[129] As might have been

expected, Ortiz de Funes fell in with his client's view and two days

later made a formal application to the Court that Perez be appointed

_patrono_, with either Cáncer or Castillo to help him.[130] No

appointment was made at the moment and, as it turned out, this was

perhaps just as well; for by June 30 Luis de Leon had changed his

mind, and appeared in court to ask that Castillo's name be removed

from the list of acceptable _patronos_.[131] On July 14 Ortiz

de Funes announced his client's intention of appealing to the

Inquisitor-General against the decision forcing him to select

_patronos_ from a list of persons unknown to him.[132] Neither Luis de

Leon nor Ortiz de Funes seemed to have guessed that the Valladolid

judges were acting on instructions from the Supreme Inquisition at

Madrid.[133] For a moment the step taken by Ortiz de Funes and his

client appeared to have some slight effect. Luis de Leon was informed

that he would be allowed to appoint Perez as his _patrono_ but on two

conditions: (1) he must undertake to pay all the travelling expenses

of his _patrono_, and (2) an inquiry must be held to establish the

_limpieza_ of Perez. This last proceeding, it was significantly

added, would be slow.[134] Again Ortiz de Funes was consulted; but it

is difficult to believe that he had more than a technical

responsibility for the startling decision which he announced: the

decision to accept as _patronos_ Fray Mancio de _Corpus Christi_ and

either Bartolomé de Medina or Dr. Cáncer.[135] Mancio, whose pupil

Luis de Leon had once been at Alcalá, was a Dominican;[136] hence he

would be suspect--perhaps doubly 'suspect'--in the prisoner's eyes.

Medina, also a Dominican, was an overt foe; Cáncer, of whom Luis de

Leon knew nothing except that he was a professor at Salamanca, proved

to be not over friendly. Luis de Leon may conceivably have thought

that Mancio's undoubted learning would ensure his treading in the

strict path of justice, and that Mancio's advanced age[137] would

enable him to press his views on his coadjutor. It is more likely,

however, that the three names were put forward in a paroxysm of

impatience--at a moment when Luis de Leon was willing to fall in with

any arrangement which might hasten a decision of his case.

Mancio was appointed _patrono_, and was duly sworn in at Valladolid on

October 9, 1574;[138] on October 13 he made a report favourable to the

accused.[139] The prisoner was not informed of this (as he should have

been), and took umbrage at what he thought was an act of insolent

remissness. He appeared in court on October 16, and protested against

any of his papers being entrusted to Mancio, lest he should take them

to his Dominican monastery where they ran the risk of being scanned by

hostile eyes.[140] On October 22 the prisoner showed signs of

increasing distrust, for he then requested the return of thirty-two

sheets of paper, covered with notes for his defence, which he himself

had handed to Mancio.[141] Luis de Leon's suspicions deepened rapidly.

On October 25 he asked to be allowed to cancel his nomination of

Mancio as _patrono_.[142] The local judges referred the application

to the Supreme Inquisition, and were instructed to proceed as though

nothing unusual had happened; Mancio, however, was to be told to stay

away still further notice.[143] On December 7 Luis de Leon handed in a

written explanation of his recent action. With regard to Mancio, he

complained of his _patrono's_ omission to confer with him, expressed

some suspicion that Mancio might have become a party to Medina's plot,

declined to accept as valid Mancio's excuse for not attending--that he

had to lecture in Salamanca--and vehemently declared that Mancio's

negligence amounted to very grave sin.[144] These phrases can scarcely

have been used in their natural sense, for Luis de Leon concluded his

written petition by stating that he was still willing to accept Mancio

as his _patrono_, if Mancio were able to be present at Valladolid.

Should this be impossible, the prisoner asked that Dr. Vadillo, Canon

of Plasencia, and the Augustinian Fray Francisco Cueto should be

assigned to him as _patronos_. A working arrangement thus became

possible, and the General Inquisitor at Madrid ordered that Mancio

should be given due facilities. These orders were received on December

13.[145] It appears that Mancio picked up the dropped threads of this

business on December 23, and spent another day or two in reviewing the

general situation.[146] Mancio's cautious policy was doubtless sound;

but to Luis de Leon, who maintained that the matters on which his

_patrono_ had to pronounce were as simple as could be, these tactics

seemed mistaken, and on January 13, 1575, he begged the Court to press

Mancio to give an opinion without delay.[147] On March 6 Luis de Leon

once more complained of being unable to confer with his _patrono_; but

now, rather late in the day, he came nearer to putting the blame on

the right shoulders. Hitherto he had been prone to ascribe all manner

of evil motives to Mancio, whom he should have known better: at last

it vaguely dawned on him that the obstacles might come (as, in fact,

they did come) from the tribunal which was trying him.[148] On March

15 Mancio wrote a letter to the judges, promising to attend at

Valladolid unless absolutely prevented from doing so.[149] Four days

later the General Inquisition wrote to the same judges, hinting that a

decision might be given shortly.[150] The Valladolid Court was stirred

into temporary activity. A sitting was held on March 30; Mancio was

present; a consultation took place between him and his client;[151]

and henceforth we hear no more of difficulties in connexion with Luis

de Leon's _patrono_. Nearly six months had been wasted owing to want

of tact on the part of the Inquisitionary officials.

As the event proved, the prisoner's protests in this matter were

thoroughly justified. It is easy to perceive this now. We cannot be

sure that we should have taken the same view had we been contemporary

spectators. If appearances were not actually against Luis de Leon,

they combined to reveal him in his least attractive posture. His

comparative promptitude in accepting Mancio as _patrono_, his

unwillingness to abide by his choice, his sudden hostility to Mancio,

his final acceptance of Mancio, are all explicable variations.

Nevertheless they showed a disregard for superficial consistency which

might easily be misinterpreted as caprice. The bias of the court had

been veering away from the prisoner for some time. His series of

actions with respect to Mancio lost him all judicial favour. His

judges considered him as an unreasonable man, a gifted sophist fertile

in inventing objections in and out of season, a hair-splitter

perpetually arguing for argument's sake. Luis de Leon was, as a rule,

so unaccommodating that some of his judges may have begun to think

they understood why he was not universally popular with members of his

own order. Nor did Luis de Leon's demeanour in court serve to

dissipate the atmosphere of almost arrogant rectitude which enveloped

him. He felt bound to criticize the machinery of the Inquisition. He

may easily have seemed to be criticizing those engaged in working the

machinery. At the best of times the procedure of the Court was not

expeditious. For example, though Luis de Leon was arrested on March

27, 1572, the first hearing of his formal defence did not take place

till April 14--more than a fortnight later. More than once Luis de

Leon complained of the Court's delays without going into questions of

motive.[152] In this he was clearly right, for, as we have seen, the

Supreme Inquisition was not wholly satisfied with the progress made.

At other times the prisoner stressed the fact that constant

postponements were apt to do him injury, and he hinted rather plainly

that there was an intention to wear him down by deliberately

prolonging the proceedings.[153] In this conjecture he was almost

certainly wrong. The Valladolid judges had no power to alter the

system which they found in existence; possibly, becoming accustomed to

it, they ended by thinking well of it. Its weak points were naturally

more evident to Luis de Leon, and his torrent of critical remarks may

have seemed to reflect on the intelligence and probity of the Court.

Administrators, however exalted, are human, and even the lowliest of

magistrates is prone to take offence, if given to understand that he

is considered dull and dishonest. Luis de Leon never was betrayed into

using disrespectful language; but his polite formulae could not

conceal the fact that he had no very high opinion of those in whose

hands his fate lay. Nor did the well-meant observance of established

forms on the part of the Court do anything to modify his sentiments.

It was in strict conformity with precedent that he should be adjured

to make a clean breast of it and should be informed that, while

truthfulness would meet with clemency, lying would be severely dealt

with.[154] It is strange that it should have been thought necessary

to use this formula in the case of Luis de Leon--a highly-strung,

sensitive man, with an almost morbid passion for truth. The sole

excuse for the Inquisitors is that this warning was given at the first

sitting. But, at the second sitting, the warning was repeated in

almost identical terms.[155] It seems scarcely possible to show less

tact in the conduct of a difficult case. No doubt the explanation is

that none of the Valladolid judges was sufficiently independent to set

a precedent of his own.

Large allowances must be made for those unhappy men. They cannot

reasonably be blamed for not taking it upon themselves to alter the

established procedure of the Court in which they sat. Their position

was always difficult, and it did not become easier as time went on.

They had good reason to know that a vocal group of influential persons

in Salamanca confidently expected them to condemn Luis de Leon; yet

some of them, at least, were uncomfortably aware that the evidence

before them would not warrant a conviction on the major charges. The

most damaging witnesses--Medina, Castro, and Zúñiga--had been called

at a very early stage of the proceedings. These heavy guns had been

fired without destroying the adversary. There was nothing for it now

but to hope for the worst from the reports of the official

_calificadores_, Dr. Cáncer, Fray Nicolas Ramos, and Dr. Frechilla,

who did their utmost to fulfil expectations.[156] Lest the

pronouncements of this trio proved unconvincing, the precaution was

taken of excluding evidence. At the beginning of the case, any sort of

second-hand gossip was admitted as evidence on the chance that its

cumulative effect might be damaging to the accused. At Murcia, on

February 4, 1573, a hostile Augustinian, Fray Juan Ciguelo, a man of

doubtful character, was permitted to retail idle chatter on the part

of another Augustinian who averred that Luis de Leon was prone to

saying _Requiems_ too often, and was in the habit of reading Latin

too quickly.[157] Ciguelo's testimony, though malignant, had done no

harm; later on, it was thought more prudent to adopt the opposite

policy and to prevent as many as possible of the witnesses for the

defence from being heard. As late as July 7, 1576, no less than three

interrogatories[158] by Luis de Leon were rejected on the ground that

they were irrelevant (_impertinentes_).[159] It is difficult to

reconcile these decisions, except on the hypothesis that the later

ruling was thought to be more likely to damage Luis de Leon than the

earlier one. In their despair, his adversaries trumped up an assertion

which was easily disproved.[160]

Disorderly and incoherent as it is, the record of the case enables us

to corroborate and, in one or two trifling particulars, to supplement

the details reported by Francisco Pacheco who, in his youth, may

easily have met Luis de Leon and must later have known many who had

seen him. According to that painter's _Libro de Descripcion de

verdaderos Retratos de illustres y memorables varones_, Luis de Leon

was below the middle height; he had a large but shapely head, covered

with thick and rather curly hair which grew densely on the crown; his

brow was broad; his features were more blunt than aquiline; his

complexion was darkish; his green eyes were bright; his aspect was

grave; and, we may add, he was prone to walk quickly. Pacheco, indeed,

regarded Luis de Leon as something of a universal genius: an expert in

mathematics, in jurisprudence, in medicine--and, though self-taught as

a painter--an artist of considerable skill. (This last was a

compliment, coming as it did from the future father-in-law of

Velazquez.) Evidently Pacheco was a whole-hearted admirer whose

enthusiasm needs discounting. However, so far as we can check it, his

account seems to be correct in the matter of direct observation. The

fact that there is scarcely one flash of humour in the interminable

record of the Valladolid trial confirms Pacheco's report of the

prisoner's habitual gravity. No doubt the tragic circumstances in

which he found himself were not conducive to displays of humour. When

being tried for his life, the merriest of men does not dwell on the

innate absurdity of things. Humour was, however, one of the few gifts

which nature had denied to Luis de Leon. He was aware of this himself,

to judge from his statement that he had nothing of the jester or

scoffer in him.[161] But if Luis de Leon was relatively poor in

humour, he had an abundant store of mordant sarcasm and a faculty for

ironic banter, as Medina and Castro learned to their chagrin.[162]

Pacheco's opinion of Luis de Leon's versatile talent is borne out by

the scrap of evidence given at the trial by Francisco de Salinas--the

sightless dedicatee of _El aire se serena_. Salinas bore witness that

some of Luis de Leon's admirers were persuaded that he could carry any

University chair against all competition.[163] Evidently to those who

met him frequently Luis de Leon conveyed the impression of

irresistible talent. Though students voted in professorial elections

at Salamanca, and supported Luis de Leon loyally, he did nothing to

conciliate them, and expressed his opinion of them with unquestionable

candour. We gather that he was profoundly attached to the ancient

order of things[164] and that, though accused of interpreting the

Bible in a rabbinical sense, he had never read a rabbinical book.[165]

We learn that among his teachers were Guevara, Mancio, Cipriano, and

Melchor Cano;[166] of these he would seem most to have esteemed

Cano.[167] With such masters, and being the man he was, Luis de Leon

would naturally have got together a good theological library, and he

was allowed to have some of his books in his prison-cell; it is but

natural that most of his requests should be for theological works

which would be of service in preparing his defence on technical

points. Reading was his sole solace during his imprisonment, and it

is noticeable that, whenever he asks for a book he speaks of it--not

with the dry, meticulous precision of a bibliographer but--with all

the caressing detail of a genuine book-lover. He indicates the sizes

of the various works which he needs, describes their bindings, and

mentions in what part of his monastery-cell they will be found. He

wants a Vatable with gilt edges, bound in black; it should be found in

a case for smaller volumes which lies on his writing-table. He asks

for a Bible, printed by Plantin, bound in black leather and fastened

with black silk ribbons. He demands a Biblical concordance which is in

folio. This lies on a high shelf near the window.[168] He begs to have

the works of St. Justin, which will be found in the shelves on the

left as you enter his monastery-cell. But not all his requests are for

theological works. A true son of the Renaissance, he finds

entertainment or instruction in communing with the best of antiquity.

When in this mood he asks for his Aristotle bound in sheep's-skin; it

will be found in the shelves on the right as you enter the

monastery-cell. He would like a Horace and a Virgil--of which there

are a great many ('_de que hay hartos_'), so that he does not

particularize. He wants his Homer (in Greek and Latin) bound in

sheep's-skin, and with red edges; it will be found in the shelves

where the works of St. Justin are.[169] Again, besides the works of

St. Leo, bound in parchment, he asks for his Sophocles in black calf;

for a Pindar (in Greek and Latin), bound partly in black leather, with

gilt edges; and for _Le prose dil Bembo_, a volume in small quarto

with a parchment binding.[170] This throws light on Luis de Leon's

progress as a linguist. An imprisoned man who asks for an Italian book

to becalm his fever may be safely presumed to know that language. In

or about 1569 when Arias Montano read aloud the anonymous Italian work

which disturbed Zúñiga's scrupulous conscience, Luis de Leon, though

of course able to catch the author's drift, did not really know

Italian at that time.[171] This deficiency had been made good, as he

gives us to understand, previous to March 12, 1573--twenty eight

months, or more, before Luis de Leon asked that his copy of _Le prose

dil Bembo_ should be given to him in prison.

The record of the Valladolid trial likewise reveals to us some of Luis

de Leon's intellectual foibles. But these were extremely few. Towards

the end of the proceedings at Valladolid the Inquisitionary judges

there summoned before them Juan Galvan, a young theological student

who lodged with Salinas, the blind musician. Galvan testified that for

about two years he had discussed matters of theology, mathematics, and

astrology with Luis de Leon.[172] It may astonish some that Luis de

Leon toyed with the pseudo-science of astrology: it cannot have

surprised his judges for, on April 18, 1572, while still bewildered as

to the cause of his arrest, he had stated to them in writing that he

had read a compilation on astrology which had been lent to him by a

student named Poza, a licentiate in canon law. Poza seems to have

doubted whether he ought to keep such a work, and consulted Luis de

Leon on the question. Luis de Leon dipped into the book, and came

finally to the conclusion that the whole thing was rubbish. But he

found in the work some curious observations, and was tempted to make

at least one experiment which involved the use of a pious formula. The

owner of the book left Salamanca to avoid an epidemic which was then

raging there. Luis de Leon had expected a visit from Poza that day,

and had intended to burn the volume in Poza's presence. He carried out

the main part of his intention by burning the work in the presence of

Fray Bartolomé de Carranza, to whom he explained the meaning of this

holocaust. No more was heard of Poza; yet it seems that Luis de Leon's

curiosity as to the possibilities of astrology continued with but

little abatement.[173] This half-belief in astrology as a kind of

black art was widespread during the sixteenth century, and vestiges of

this ingenuous credulity have survived in unexpected quarters till our

own time. It was perhaps unwise of Luis de Leon thus to furnish his

adversaries with ammunition which they might use against him; but

could anything bespeak conscious innocence more strongly than his

voluntary avowal?

Fray Luis de León: A Biographical Fragment · 第 3 / 11 段