him so. The nobles, who had always resisted absolutism as 
strenuously as they had fought the Moors, had been divested of all 
political power, a like fate had befallen the cities, the free constitutions 
of Castile and Aragon had been swept away, and the only function that 
remained to the Cortes was that of granting money at the King's 
dictation. 
The transition extended to literature. Men who, like Garcilaso de la 
Vega and Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, followed the Italian wars, had 
brought back from Italy the products of the post-Renaissance literature, 
which took root and flourished and even threatened to extinguish the 
native growths. Damon and Thyrsis, Phyllis and Chloe had been fairly 
naturalised in Spain, together with all the devices of pastoral poetry for 
investing with an air of novelty the idea of a dispairing shepherd and 
inflexible shepherdess. As a set-off against this, the old historical and 
traditional ballads, and the true pastorals, the songs and ballads of 
peasant life, were being collected assiduously and printed in the 
cancioneros that succeeded one another with increasing rapidity. But 
the most notable consequence, perhaps, of the spread of printing was 
the flood of romances of chivalry that had continued to pour from the 
press ever since Garci Ordonez de Montalvo had resuscitated "Amadis 
of Gaul" at the beginning of the century. 
For a youth fond of reading, solid or light, there could have been no
better spot in Spain than Alcala de Henares in the middle of the 
sixteenth century. It was then a busy, populous university town, 
something more than the enterprising rival of Salamanca, and 
altogether a very different place from the melancholy, silent, deserted 
Alcala the traveller sees now as he goes from Madrid to Saragossa. 
Theology and medicine may have been the strong points of the 
university, but the town itself seems to have inclined rather to the 
humanities and light literature, and as a producer of books Alcala was 
already beginning to compete with the older presses of Toledo, Burgos, 
Salamanca and Seville. 
A pendant to the picture Cervantes has given us of his first playgoings 
might, no doubt, have been often seen in the streets of Alcala at that 
time; a bright, eager, tawny-haired boy peering into a book-shop where 
the latest volumes lay open to tempt the public, wondering, it may be, 
what that little book with the woodcut of the blind beggar and his boy, 
that called itself "Vida de Lazarillo de Tormes, segunda impresion," 
could be about; or with eyes brimming over with merriment gazing at 
one of those preposterous portraits of a knight-errant in outrageous 
panoply and plumes with which the publishers of chivalry romances 
loved to embellish the title-pages of their folios. If the boy was the 
father of the man, the sense of the incongruous that was strong at fifty 
was lively at ten, and some such reflections as these may have been the 
true genesis of "Don Quixote." 
For his more solid education, we are told, he went to Salamanca. But 
why Rodrigo de Cervantes, who was very poor, should have sent his 
son to a university a hundred and fifty miles away when he had one at 
his own door, would be a puzzle, if we had any reason for supposing 
that he did so. The only evidence is a vague statement by Professor 
Tomas Gonzalez, that he once saw an old entry of the matriculation of 
a Miguel de Cervantes. This does not appear to have been ever seen 
again; but even if it had, and if the date corresponded, it would prove 
nothing, as there were at least two other Miguels born about the middle 
of the century; one of them, moreover, a Cervantes Saavedra, a cousin, 
no doubt, who was a source of great embarrassment to the biographers.
That he was a student neither at Salamanca nor at Alcala is best proved 
by his own works. No man drew more largely upon experience than he 
did, and he has nowhere left a single reminiscence of student life- for 
the "Tia Fingida," if it be his, is not one- nothing, not even "a college 
joke," to show that he remembered days that most men remember best. 
All that we know positively about his education is that Juan Lopez de 
Hoyos, a professor of humanities and belles-lettres of some eminence, 
calls him his "dear and beloved pupil." This was in a little collection of 
verses by different hands on the death of Isabel de Valois, second 
queen of Philip II, published by the professor in 1569, to which 
Cervantes contributed four pieces, including an elegy, and an epitaph in 
the form of a sonnet. It is only by a rare chance that a "Lycidas" finds 
its way into a volume of this sort, and Cervantes was    
    
		
	
	
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