In that collection of pleasant stories entitled “Count Lucanor,” whose
composition enlivened the chivalric leisure of the Prince Don Juan
Manuel, perhaps the pleasantest and certainly the quaintest, is that
which tells how Don Alvar Fañez won his wife and how implicitly she
obeyed him. The most noticeable feature in it, however, is the curious
resemblance it bears to a scene in “The Taming of the Shrew,” as the
reader will see from the following passages:
“Alvar Fañez was a very good man, and was much honored. He colonized the
village of Ysca, where he resided, together with Count Pero Anzurez, who
had with him three daughters.
One day Don Alvar Fañez paid an unexpected visit to the Count, who,
nevertheless, expressed himself much gratified, and, after they had
dined together, desired to be informed the cause of his unexpected
visit. Don Alvar Fañez replied that he came to demand one of his
daughters in marriage, and requested permission to see the three ladies,
that he might speak to each of them separately, when he would select the
one he should desire in marriage. Now the Count, _feeling that God would
bless that proposition, agreed to it_.
Thereupon Don Alvar presents his case to the eldest daughter, premising
that he is old, enfeebled by wounds, and with a bad habit of getting
drunk and kicking up an awful row, which, however, he very sincerely
regrets when he gets sober. The young lady, not greatly dazzled by this
alluring prospect, refers him to her pa, to whom in the meantime she
imparts with much fervor her resolution rather to die than marry the
good Don. The same result occurs with the second daughter; when
Vascuñana, the youngest of course, “_thanking God very much that Don
Alvar Fañez desired to marry her_,” accepts him. Then Don Alvar in turn
“thanks GOD very much that he had found a woman with such an
understanding,” and after this mutual thanksgiving they get married and
live happily, Vascuñana, as a good wife should, thoroughly believing in
her husband, and letting him have his own way always. In this state of
affairs, it happened one day when Don Alvar Fañez was at home, there
came to visit him a nephew of his who was attached to the king’s
household. After he had been in the house some days, he said to Don
Alvar Fañez, “You are a good and accomplished man, but there is one
fault I find with you.” His uncle desired to know what it was. To which
the nephew replied, “It may be but a small fault, but it is this, you
study your wife too much, and make her too great a mistress of you and
your affairs.”
“As to that,” Don Alvar Fañez replied, “I will give you an answer in a
few days.”
After this, Don Alvar Fañez made a journey on horseback to a distant
part of the country, taking with him his nephew, where he remained some
time, and then sent for his wife, Vascuñana, to meet him on the road as
he returned. When they had journeyed some time without conversing, Don
Alvar Fañez being in advance, they chanced to meet a large drove of
cows, when Don Alvar said to his nephew, “_See what famous mares we have
in this country_.”
The nephew, on hearing this, was surprised, and thought he said it in
jest, and asked him how he could say so when they were but cows. At this
his uncle feigned to be quite astonished, saying, “You are mistaken or
have lost your wits, for they certainly are mares.” The nephew, seeing
his uncle persist in what he had said, and that, too, with so much
energy, became alarmed, and thought his uncle had lost his
understanding. The dispute, however, continued in this manner until they
met Doña Vascuñana, who was now seen on the road approaching them. No
sooner did Don Alvar Fañez perceive his wife than he said to his nephew,
“Here is my wife, Vascuñana, who will be able to settle our dispute.”
The nephew was glad of this opportunity, and no sooner did she meet them
than he said, “Aunt, my uncle and I have a dispute. He says that those
cows are mares; I say that they are cows. And we have so long contended
this point, that he considers me as mad, while I think he is but little
better. So we beg you will settle our dispute.”
Now, when Doña Vascuñana heard this, although they appeared to her to be
cows, yet, as her husband had said to the contrary, and she knew that no
one was better able than he to distinguish one from the other, and that
he never erred, she, trusting entirely to his judgment, declared they
were, beyond all doubt, mares, and not cows. “It grieves me much,
nephew,” continued Vascuñana, “to hear you contest the point; and God
knows, it is a great pity you have not better judgment, with all the
advantages you have had in living in the king’s household, where you
have been so long, than not to be able to distinguish mares from cows.”
She then began to show how, both in their color and form, and in many
other points, _they were mares and not cows; and that what Don Alvar
said was true_. And so strongly did she affirm this that not only her
nephew, but those who were with them, began to think they were
themselves mistaken, until Don Alvar explains the reason and the nephew
quaintly declares “himself much pleased” and acknowledges “that Don
Alvar was not too considerate or loving.”
After this, Don Alvar Fañez and his nephew proceeded. They had not,
however, journeyed long before they saw coming towards them a large
drove of mares.
“Now, these,” said Don Alvar Fañez, “_are cows, but those we have seen,
which you call cows, were not so_.”
When the nephew heard this, he exclaimed, “Uncle, for God’s sake! if
what you say be true, the devil has brought me to this country; for
certainly, if these are cows, then I have lost my senses, for in all
parts of the world these are mares and not cows.” But Don Alvar
persisted that he was right in saying they were cows and not mares. And
thus they argued until Vascuñana came up to them, when they related to
her all that had passed between them.
Now, although she thought her nephew right, yet, for the same reason as
before, she said so much in support of her husband, and that, too, with
such apparent truth and inward conviction, that the nephew and those
with the mares began to think that their sight and judgment erred and
that what Don Alvar had said was true; and so the debate ended.
Again Don Alvar and his nephew proceeded on their road homeward, and had
proceeded at a considerable distance when they arrived at a river, on
the banks of which were a number of mills. While their horses were
drinking, Don Alvar remarked that _river ran in the direction from which
it flowed_, and that the mills received their water from a contrary
point. When the nephew heard this he thought to a certainty he himself
had lost his senses, for, as he appeared to be wrong with respect to the
mares and cows, so might he be in error here also, and the river might
really run toward and not from its source. Nevertheless, he contended
the point. When Vascuñana, on her arrival, found them again warmly
disputing, she begged to know the cause. They then informed her; when,
although, as before, it appeared to her that the nephew was right, yet
she could not be persuaded that her husband was wrong, _and so again
supported his opinion_; and this time with so many good arguments, that
the nephew and those present felt that they must have been in error. And
it remains a proverb to this day that, “If the husband affirms that the
river runs up to its source, the good wife ought to believe it and say
that it is true.”
Now, when the nephew heard all this, supposing that Don Alvar Fañez must
be right, he began to feel very unhappy and to suspect that he was
losing his senses, etc., etc.
Compare with this story “The Taming of the Shrew,” act iv., scene 5, _A
Public Road_.
Enter _Petruchio_, _Katharine_, and _Hortensio_.
_Pet._ Come on, o’ God’s name; once more toward our father’s.
Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!
_Kath._ The moon! the sun; it is not moonlight now.
_Pet._ I say it is the moon that shines so bright.
_Kath._ I know it is the sun that shines so bright.
_Pet._ No, by my mother’s son, and that’s myself,
It shall be moon, or star, or what I list,
Or ere I journey to your father’s house:...
_Hor._ Say as he says or we shall never go.
_Kath._ Forward, I pray, since we have come so far,
And be it moon, or sun, or what you please;
And if you please to call it a rush candle,
Henceforth, I vow it shall be so to me.
_Pet._ I say, it is the moon.
_Kath._ I know it is the moon.
_Pet._ Nay, then you lie; it is the blessed sun.
_Kath._ Then God be bless’d, it is the blessed sun.
But sun it is not, when you say it is not;
And the moon changes even as your mind.
What you will have it named, even that it is;
And so it shall be so, for Katharine.