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216 23 Changing Tastes (Daroca to Valencia, 1585–1586) On 19 January 1585, Philip II set out on a royal tour of eastern Spain that lasted fourteen months.1 Along the way, he attended his daughter’s wedding, presided over a meeting of the Cortes (legislative assembly) of Aragon, and was entertained by lavish festivities that, in his late middle age, he was beginning to find tiresome . A record of Philip’s journey was kept by a notary and archer of his Flemish guard, Enrique Cock. Trekking at first through “rain, hail, snow, and fierce winds,” the party made slow progress and encountered little entertainment. On Sunday, 19 February, the citizens of Daroca (Zaragoza) ran some bulls through the streets and “represented a Saint George killing a huge dragon, which threw flames and fire from its mouth and nostrils.” They also performed twice “the mystery of the most holy corporals,” corporals being the linen cloths on which the elements of the mass are laid. The play told the story of a battle between Moors and Christians near Xàtiva (Valencia) on 24 February 1239. The besieged Christians chose five captains to take communion together “on behalf of all the army,” but the priest was unable to administer the sacrament before the Moors attacked. He wrapped the consecrated wafers in the corporals and hid them beneath a flagstone. After a rousing Christian victory, he was startled to discover that the bread had changed into real flesh and blood, staining the corporals. Faced with a dispute as to where the sanctified linen should be kept, the priest placed it in a wooden box, which he loaded on a mule. Unprompted, the mule walked to Daroca. The corporals , their holy stains still visible, have stayed in the city ever since, the story of their miraculous origin being remembered annually during the feast of Corpus Christi. The late-sixteenth-century play may have been performed not only at Corpus Christi but also on the feast of St. Matthew (24 February) and, in this instance, a few days earlier for the royal visit.2 Unfortunately, Cock tells us nothing of the form of the “misterio [miracle play].” Its generic designation and the lack of any mention of gunfire, which Cock is usually quick to record, suggest something quieter than the rowdy festivals of Moors and Christians. But it is unlikely that the battle would have been confined to verse, in the decorous manner of later neoclassical tragedy, rather than actually fought. Perhaps it was represented by a sword dance. If the Misterio de los Santos Corporales did include a mock battle of some sort, it would be one of the first recorded instances of an annual, rather than an occasional, mock battle between Moors and Christians. The royal party arrived in Zaragoza five days later. Crowds lined the streets and hung from windows while musicians played on special platforms. That night, fortyeight horsemen, divided into four squadrons, rode up and down in front of the royal palace, “imitating the manners and ceremonies of the Moors.” Afterward, two bulls with fireworks tied to their horns were released, driving the crowds from the streets. An auto-da-fé on the 27th paraded representatives of the city’s confraternities , friars carrying boxes of relics, and several people condemned by the Inquisition for retaining Moorish or Jewish practices. Carnival, at the beginning of March, was fairly restrained: masked figures roamed the streets, and young men threw eggs full of colored water at young women on balconies. Philip’s younger daughter, Catalina, was married on 11 March to the duke of Savoy. The celebrations included a juego de cañas and, despite the almost constant rain that caused its postponement for several days, a tournament. The party visited monasteries and churches in the area, including the chapel of Our Lady of the Pillar. Little of theatrical interest took place during the five weeks the king spent in Zaragoza, a remarkable contrast with the spectacular royal entries and weddings of the mid–sixteenth century.3 On 2 April, the royal entourage set out for Barcelona, visiting Lleida, Tarragona, and the monastery of Poblet en route. In Hospitalet, on the outskirts of Barcelona, the villagers celebrated the first of May by “raising a very tall pine decorated with flowers and oranges and dedicating it to his Majesty.”4 Philip refused the honor of a royal entry to Barcelona, pleading the ill health of many of his party and the...

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