[In the following essay, McGinniss discusses Vicente's use of dance to signal changes in scene and characterization in Auto de la sibila Casandra.]

An outstanding feature of the Vicentine theater is the dance, with which, it has been felt, the dramatist beautifies his work. The element of dance interpolation, however, surpasses mere theatrical ornamentation and contributes more specifically to the structural and conceptual coherence of the work.¹ In effect, Vicente's Auto de la sibila Casandra is composed within a choreographic architecture, and the execution of dance is repeatedly and consistently rooted to a process of metamorphosis.² That is to say, changes from contemporary to biblical action, from the pastoral to the courtly, from the impertinent to the moral are all confirmed by the performance of a dance. These changes or metamorphoses of scene and characterization would not be made apparent to the medieval audience if it were not for the incorporation of dance, which becomes, in essence, the symbolic indicator of a process of transfiguration—a visual means by which a metamorphosis may be observed and therefore understood.

In the play's introductory unit, the conflict between moral disparity and the appeal for conversion is clearly established. Cassandra, in discord with sixteenth-century ideology, refuses to perform marital or religious service to God³ and likewise will not conform to the immediate design for dance. Her rejection of Solomon, her suitor, and of matrimonial life in general is appropriate only to a reiteration in song: “Dizen que me case yo.” The estribillo of this villancico, “no quiero marido no,” lends itself, in sentiment, to a choral intervention by the nuns who form part of the audience.⁴ Their presence throughout this auto is contributive to structural and thematic symmetry and counterposes the matrimonial option toward which Cassandra is persuaded.

Cassandra's refusal to marry does not defeat Solomon. Having boasted in vain of his good lineage and merit as a provider (ll. 51 ff.), he revamps his approach and entreats Cassandra once again—this time dressed as a shepherd in accordance with the annotation. His change of characterization, however, is not feigned, nor is it to be viewed as a superficial gesture. So complete has been his metamorphosis that he, as any authentic shepherd, is expertly skilled in his performance of the chacota, an exuberant rustic dance.⁵ This dance that he executes with Cassandra's sibyl aunts (Erutea, Peresica, and Cimeria), whom he has solicited for moral support, initiates the second scene and visually confirms his rustic transformation. As a result, he will now serve Cassandra through an offering of the pleasures inherent to the pastoral life and, in essence, woos her with promises of herds, music, vineyards, and chickens (ll. 260 ff.). He has become, at this point, what Leo Spitzer observes to be “a small chicken farmer proud of what he owns.”⁶

Cassandra, however, will still not yield to the “new” unabandoned and reacclimated Solomon, the shepherd. He, consequently, is compelled to confront her with a final recourse: instruction in Christian doctrine—specifically that which exemplifies the matrimonial option. To assure his success in this endeavor, Solomon seeks the aid of Cassandra's uncles who anachronistically double as the prophets Moses, Abraham, and Isaiah. Together the men perform a folía which, of course, introduces a new dramatic unity and visually informs the audience of an impending change—one in which Cassandra predicts that she herself is destined to be the chosen mother of God. Her confusion of identity and chronology which parallels the metamorphosized condition of her uncles incurs a chaotic and severely enraged reaction. The ambivalence of this scene unfolds in appropriate thematic alignment to the introductory dance. The folía is a pagan dance of fertility which is said to be performed at such a furious tempo that the participants appear crazed; thus did evolve its name, folía, which means madness.⁷

A call to order is initiated through divine intervention, and as deus ex machina, a curtain is opened revealing the nativity scene which is complete with four angels who sing of the Redeemer's birth. The actors yield to their subsequent transfiguration as biblical shepherds and, in accordance with the preliminary instructions, move toward the manger singing and dancing a chacota. It is of most importance to note that Cassandra for the first time will participate in the dance and will thus render observable devotion to God. Her adherence to the plan for dance and to Christian doctrine is reciprocal and interchangeable, and her resolve to serve God through her rôle in life on earth is imminent. Cassandra's recognition of Christ and of His birth from the Virgin is implicit in the dance execution and she confesses, consequently, that she has been lost—“perdida / 'n esta vida” (ll. 733-34). Her commitment to the sacrament of marriage, therefore, is symbolized by the performance of a courtly basse dance which, conforming to the established dramatic pattern, introduces the next and final scene.

According to the dramatist's instructions, “Muy graciosa es la doncella” is to be performed by all of the characters and they are to be grouped three by three. Leo Spitzer, for example, interprets the arrangement thus: the patriarchs in one group, the sibyl aunts in another, and in the third, Solomon and Cassandra accompanied by the author himself.⁸ The parallelistic symmetry of the villancico, however, suggests that the accompanying dance will likewise display a structure of parallel and homogeneous components. Furthermore, taking into consideration the instructions by which Vicente explains that all the characters dance, one should recall, then, that the dramatist has already introduced four additional characters not included in the aggregation proposed by Spitzer. They are the angels who are presumedly portrayed by the nuns. With their presence and the elimination of the author (whom Spitzer undoubtedly added to the dance as a means to complete the pas de trois), we now have the ingredients and groupages for a manorial dance.⁹ That is to say, the composition would embrace four sets of three dancers, each consisting of two women (a sibyl and an angel) and one man. The man, who is to be positioned in the center, will join hands with his two partners, and their continued interplay will be stylistically lively yet stately and refined. “Muy graciosa es la doncella” is most definitely not an improvised and uninhibited pastoral dance and it would not contain bold or gravity-defying movement such as the zapateta or altibaxo. The dance is, in essence, a danza baja which requires strict adherence to prescribed movement and formation patterns.

“Muy graciosa es la doncella,” of course, pays special tribute to Cassandra, who, upon willing to serve Solomon in marriage, is not only restored to moral grace but is, in fact, miraculously converted into a gracious lady of the court. She is thus, through dance, likened to the Virgin who previously has been glorified for Her beauty, dignity, and grace (ll. 762 ff.). The dance, however, does not sublimate the attractiveness of the religious rôle in that the nuns, who are portraying angels, are placed in a position of equitable honor and esteem. It is of importance to note, furthermore, that vows of marriage are not verbally exchanged but are symbolically indicated through gesture in the dance. Cassandra will give Solomon her hand and, in the company of an angel (suggestive of the harmony that now exists between her worldly and spiritual conduct), will execute a courtly dance which is expressive of joy, courtesy, and love.¹⁰

The Auto de la sibila Cassandra is, in its conception, structurally unified by means of an innovative interpolation of four dances. Each dance supports the underlying theme of the work: service in love. The first dance, the chacota, clearly symbolizes the service that Solomon offers to Cassandra. It is he, at this point, who has made the sacrifice for her by willingly demoting himself socially to the status of a shepherd. The second dance, the folía, a pagan dance of solicitation, denotes a curious assimilation between an appeal to both a spiritual and carnal surrender. Cassandra, in this dance, is entreated to yield and consent to Solomon—her service to him being to accept a sacrament, marriage, in conformance with Christian doctrine. The following dance, the chacota, visually confirms the adoration that all render to Christ who with His surrender to death—the sacrifice on the cross—redeemed man. The final danza baja visually fuses that which has been counterposed and exalts—in harmonic balance—both the secular and the sacred. It depicts a unique union between the worldly and the divine by which angels descend to execute a manorial dance and shepherds ascend in social status—thus being magically learned in the courtesies and subtleties of the palatial life.

The concept of metamorphosis is fundamental to the didactic purpose of the auto which is summarized in the final villancico, an epilogue of sorts—a moraleja in song: he who serves God well by observing his worldly obligation (be this through a dedication to the matrimonial or the religious life) is thus spiritually transfigured into a miles Christi.¹¹ In effect, the dance, as symbol, consistently and repeatedly designates a conversion—including that which transforms the lover into servant on the condition sine qua non that the worldly is imitative of the divine.

Notes

1. In Feeling and Form ([New York, 1953], pp. 175-91), Susanne K. Langer defines the dance as an expression of concepts which are fundamental to a “consciousness of life.” Virtual or illusory powers such as prayer, will, or love are given semblance in dance and are symbolized through an assigned and combinable system of virtual gesture. The dance, she affirms, is a “play of power made visible.”

2. Gil Vicente, Obras dramáticas castellanas, ed. Thomas R. Hart (Madrid, 1962), is utilized in all references to the Auto de la sibila Casandra.

3. Leo Spitzer in “The Artistic Unity of Gil Vicente's Auto de la sibila Casandra” (HR [Hispanic Review], 26 [1958], 61) observes that Cassandra uncompromisingly wishes to be “neither the bride of man or of God.” Thomas Hart (Gil Vicente, Obras, pp. xxxvi-xxxvii) provides additional information relevant to matrimonial obligation. Although Hart's observations are limited to the analysis of Vicente's Comedia del viudo, his disclosures should likewise be applicable to the Auto de la sibila Casandra in that the theme of service is also fundamental to this latter work.

4. A similar interplay between the female solo vocalist (Mary) during the gloss of the villancico and the chorus of nuns during the estribillo can be noted in Gómez Manrique's Representación del nacimiento de nuestro Señor. For the comparison, see Harry Seiber, “Dramatic Symmetry in Gómez Manrique,” HR, 23 (1965), 134-35.

5. Reference to the chacota may be noted in Eugenio Asensio, Poética y realidad en el cancionero peninsular de la Edad Media (Madrid, 1970), p. 153 ff. Asensio cites a document dated in 1452 in which the chacota, a dance of plebeian tradition, is compared to a danza alta, a dance of the court. When such a dance is transported to the palace, presented theatrically and danced by performers enacting a rustic role, the piece should be viewed as a popular execution. One must be aware, furthermore, that there are two diverse styles of courtly dance which are described as follows by Ignacio de Beryes in Historia de la danza (Madrid, 1946):

   Dos géneros de danzas se distinguieron siempre en la corte: el de los bailes bajos y el de los bailes altos. Los primeros eran calmosos, reposados, ejecutados con gran ceremonia, mientras que los segundos no reparaban en brincos y saltos, llamándoseles, también, bailes nobles, aunque, justamente, estaban más cerca que aquéllos de los plebeyos, o, en general, danse baladine. En cuanto a los otros se les llamó, asimismo, danse terre-á-terre, cuando los pies apenas abandonaban el suelo.

6. Spitzer, “The Artistic Unity …,” p. 64.

7. See Curt Sachs, World History of the Dance, trans. Bessie Schönberg (New York, 1937), p. 43.

8. Spitzer, “The Artistic Unity …,” p. 73.

9. Documentation of a bassa danza designed for sets of three dancers (two women and one man) and composed by the illustrious master of dance, Lorenzo de Medici, is provided by Mabel Dolmetsch in Dances of Spain & Italy 1400-1600 (London, 1949), pp. 25-31. The French song upon which the Medici piece is based was published for the first time in Venice in 1501—eleven years prior to the Spanish translation of Guerino Meschino, a chivalric novel of French origin whose author, Andrea da Barbarino, was a noted Italian master of song. The latter work, according to María Rosa Lida de Malkiel (“Para la génesis del Auto de la sibila Casandra,” Filología, 5 [1959], 47-61), served as a source to Vicente's auto. It is likely that Vicente was familiar with the Medici dance composition as well, and so its choreographic design provides applicable information.

10. The value attached to the pageantry of a stately dance promenade: “Joy, love, courtliness … the three essentials of the service of love,” is discussed by Curt Sachs (World History, pp. 277-79).

11. See also Thomas Hart, “Gil Vicente's Auto de la sibila Casandra,” HR, 26 (1958), 50-51. The allegorical basis of “A la guerra, / cavalleros esforzados” is, furthermore, reminiscent of the ceremonial Canto de la sibila; the latter is described by Humberto López Morales in Tradición y creación en los orígenes del teatro castellano (Madrid, 1968), pp. 56-57.