Tiger Take-Off




The Secular Song of Spain: The Often Overlooked Contribution to European Renaissance Music

Sarah Gilbert

Much research and study has been done on the various art song forms that began to develop throughout Europe during the Renaissance: the solo madrigals and arias of Italy, the lieder of Germany, the chansons of France, and the airs and lute songs of England. In the midst of such research, however, one primary country of Europe has largely been ignored. Only Spain, among all the rest of the major Western European countries, has not been included with any significance in the study of Renaissance secular song. The contribution of Spain is perhaps small, but it is nonetheless vital to a complete understanding of what was happening in the history of Western music during this time; therefore, the history and development of Spain’s secular song will be discussed in this paper.[1] Causative historical factors, characteristics that defined Spain’s song as distinctly “Spanish,” and primary composers will all be overviewed. In this way, the great contribution Spain made to Western music will be better understood and appreciated.

Monophonic song in Spain must be regarded as an outgrowth of the troubadour movement in France. From the time of William the IX, contact between the ruling families of France and the kings of Spain were close and large retinues would accompany the kings as they traveled back and forth to visit each other. There can be little doubt that troubadours and jongleurs were a part of these retinues, for French troubadours found a ready welcome in the courts of the Spanish kings and “langue d’oc” soon became the language of poetry south of the Pyrenees.[2]

The concept of writing poetry and music in a vernacular language gained popularity and, in the thirteenth century, songs in the vernacular language of the Iberian peninsula began to appear when Castilian Spanish became firmly established as its own language, apart from its Latin roots. Folk songs have been popular since this time, although the songs were composed in the minds of the illiterate people and passed down orally from generation to generation.[3] In Renaissance Spain there was an unusual connection between uneducated folk singers and sophisticated court poets. It was not uncommon for more educated poets to collect and sing simple, unmetered folk poetry, improving and developing it to a fuller potential.[4]  The oldest examples are seven canciones de amor (love songs) by Martin Codax, for which are six surviving melodies written in Galician-Portuguese. Both the text and music of these pieces are simple in form and nature and suggest that they were a derivation of folk dance and song rather than the more sophisticated love songs of the troubadours.[5]

Written by trouvère and Benedictine monk Gautier Coincy (d. 1236), Les Miracles de Notre Dame is perhaps the most famous collection of stories. The fact that there are no fewer than eighty-four surviving manuscripts proves the enormous popularity and influence of this work amongst its contemporaries. The work was a collection of narrative poetry and song celebrating the alleged miracles performed by the Virgin Mary.[6]

At least in part, Les Miracles established a literary and musical precedent for Spain’s greatest contribution to the music of the troubadour period: the Cantigas de Santa Maria. Written long after all the Provençal troubadours had been driven out of their own country by the Albigensian massacres and the annexation of Provence to Northern France, the Cantigas were an important collection of popular songs in the Galician-Portuguese language that was assembled at the court of Alfonso the Great, King of Castile and León (1252-1284). By “popular” it is meant that the songs were written for the general public’s enjoyment.[7] It has been speculated that Alfonso himself may perhaps have contributed to the collection of over 400 anonymous songs since the king was a great patron of the arts, education, and literacy;[8] however, it is more likely that the authors were the poets and musicians associated with his court.[9]  Regardless, the Cantigas originated in a cultured society of aristocrats well familiar with troubadour song.  Some interesting aspects of this collection are the common subject matter and systematic arrangement of the collection as a whole. A favorite literary subject during the thirteenth century, the majority of the songs are written in adoration of Santa Maria, or the Virgin Mary, and commemorate the miracles she performed—one song for each miracle. Every tenth song interrupts the recounted miracles with a more general song in her praise. The original manuscripts are carefully compiled and numbered: rubrics identify the subject matter of each song and miniatures of musicians performing on various instruments decorate the pages of each tenth song, further distinguishing them from the songs recounting the attributed miracles.[10]

Scholars today regard the Cantigas de Santa Maria as “one of the greatest monuments of medieval music.”[11] While at first glance it may be hard to determine the influence the troubadour and trouvère movements had on this early form of Spanish solo song, the texts themselves seem to establish a relationship.  Perhaps written by King Alfonso himself, the Prologue to the Cantigas lists the qualities needed to compose well (ben trobar), and the author of the praise-filled song Rosa das Rosas (Rose of Roses) could well be considered the “trobador” of Our Lady. It is also interesting to note that the last of the troubadours, Guiraut Riquier, spent ten or more years at the court of Alfonso the Wise and many of his songs celebrate the Virgin Mary. Songs of praise for the Virgin were common during this period and the names of many earthly women were substituted for that of Mary’s, as many poets felt the need to prove their loyalty during the Spanish Inquisition. [12]

The significance of Spanish cantigas lies in the fact that they were the first songs to make extensive use of the form that would later become fixed in the French virelai and Italian ballata of the next century. Melodically, the cantigas are simplistic, concise, and primarily syllabic with little ornamentation.  The notes move in a stepwise motion with only occasional skips of a third, and larger leaps only occur between phrases. Clear cadences, rhythmic shape, and the repetitive nature of the form combine together to create a melodic line that is dancelike in nature, lending a distinctive Spanish flavor to the music. The Cantigas de Santa Maria provides some of the most attractive and tuneful melodies of the monophonic song, and their contribution should not be ignored.[13]

One of the greatest achievements of early Spanish poetry written about 1140, Mio Cid (“Poem of the Cid”) was a minstrel song lamenting a man driven from his house and home, looking back and “seeing doors all wide open, and gates left all unfastened; the pegs all empty, no furs on them nor mantles; the hawks all gone too, and falcons in their new feathers.  How he sighed, my Cid! For many great cares were upon him.”[14]  Scholars of Romance languages have been confused by the irregular meter of this early Spanish poetry: the number of syllables to a line is not fixed, but varies between eight and twenty. Some have suggested that the minstrel did not know how to write verse and poetry, but in compound meter, it is not difficult to understand how varying syllables could be fitted to the same tune. “Long” notes could easily be divided into two or three shorter notes to adapt to the natural rhythm of the vernacular Spanish. What was important was not the number of syllables, but the number of beats, and in Mio Cid, as in most all early Spanish and Portuguese poetry sung by minstrels, nearly every line had four down-beats and four up-beats, most likely derived from folk-dancing.[15]

The minstrel poems of the Archpriest of Hita became an important influence in fourteenth-century Spain. Following the reign of Alfonso by about fifty years, the Archpriest ministered not only to publicans and sinners, but also to musicians, ballad singers, and Moorish dancing girls. He wrote words for them to sing and proved his knowledge about their various instruments, often giving advice on which instruments sounded better for songs sung in Arabic and which ones better complimented Spanish text. His book, El libro de buen amor, was a collection of words which became standard minstrel songs during his time and continued in popularity even after his death. The collection was later translated into Portuguese, attesting to its high esteem.[16]

Minstrels played an important role in early fourteenth-century Spain; however, by the second half of the century professional minstrelsy began to decline and fragments of their epic poetry became popular among common musicians. These fragments lived on in the form of old Spanish ballads or romances viejos, and were epic-lyric poems sung to an instrument, either in choral dances, or where people were gathered together for recreation or work. As the popularity for this style grew, singers began to choose national subjects for themselves and looked for inspiration in their daily lives. Like former minstrels, they used song to keep their audience informed of current events. Governments did not hesitate to use this to their advantage and made use of popular singers to help spread news which was favorable to their policies. History shows that in 1462, King Henry IV of Castille commanded a ballade to be written on a certain campaign near Granada, then commanded that the ballad be performed by singers of the Chapel Royal. Similarly, ballads celebrating the fall of Granada were also composed and sung in the Chapel Royal of Ferdinand and Isabella.[17]

The marriage of Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castile in 1469 created a dynamic alliance between the kingdoms of Castile and Aragon and ushered in an age of prosperity and political stability for Spain. Spain also benefitted greatly by the lands and riches acquired by Christopher Columbus’ discovery of the New World, and because of the prestige that Spain enjoyed during this era and the political power invested in Ferdinand and Isabella, the arts flourished greatly. The Catholic Monarchs encouraged the growth of sacred music in their court and their royal chapels grew to include a large number of composers, including Juan de Anchieta, Francisco de Peñalosa, Pedro de Escobar, Alonso de Alva, Juan Escribano, Juan Ponce, and Martín de Rivaflecha. The royal chapels of Aragon and Castile were in constant contact with the mainstream centers of European music, while at the same time maintaining a close connection with other Spanish musical centers such as monasteries, cathedrals, and other noble households. Ferdinand and Isabella established high standards of musical excellence and sought to emulate and even outdo the splendor of the Burgundian court chapel. Their emphasis on music was meant to express their highest devotion to the Catholic faith, yet it also created an environment where musical expression that was distinctly Spanish could flourish. This distinctive Spanish sound was unadorned and more chordal, with its strong harmonic nature resulting from a bass-superius voice relationship rather than the tenor-superius relationship that dominated most of the rest of polyphony of this era. Spanish composers tailored their compositions to the requirements of important local religious feasts, special liturgies, and customs; however, the music demonstrates a fusion of mainstream musical techniques and international style with local preferences and expressive tendencies.[18]

The royal patronage of music continued with Ferdinand and Isabella’s subsequent monarchs, Charles V and Philip II. From the time of Charles V, Spanish court administration was bound to a double inheritance from Castile and Burgundy. Musicians were hired, governed and paid from a variety of sources rather than through one general entity and each administrative unit had its own regulators, forms of payment, and (often conflicting) administrators. Musicians enjoyed royal patronage for their arts; however, individual monarchs and their whole families were “prisoners of ceremony” and much emphasis was unduly placed upon protocol and tradition. Even the assumptions behind the choice of music for royal occasions were largely decided by the bureaucracy. Still, there was an abundance of jobs for court musicians, and Spanish singers became especially valued in Italy.[19]

While the Spanish monarchs may have specifically encouraged the growth of sacred music, it cannot be ignored that the developments of sacred music merely spilled over into secular music. By the beginning of the sixteenth century, music was not only gaining independence from the church, but musicians were also beginning to attain something approaching respectability. Secular music was not only being written down, it was also being printed.[20] Interestingly enough, the largest and most characteristically Spanish repertory of music to survive from this age consists of secular pieces, primarily romances and villancicos.[21] A villancico has meant different things at different times, as the word existed long before madrigals were thought of, and it continued in usage long after madrigals ceased to be written; however, like the madrigal, a villancico was first of all a form of verse that was later set to music. By derivation, the word seems to mean a little song sung by country people, or “villains” as the Spanish word implies. It was obviously a set musical form and its primary characteristic was that it began with a refrain which preceded each verse, and finally, concluded with the same refrain.[22]  Villancicos would go on to become one of Spain’s primary contributions to Western secular music during the Renaissance, and a major contributing factor to the development of Spanish secular song.

As a whole, many more song texts than musical settings have survived in Spanish secular music of the era. In many cases the musical manuscripts have been lost, but the flowering of Spanish Renaissance secular song was essentially motivated by linguistic and literary achievements. It was during the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella that Castilian Spanish became an elegant and courtly language and Catholic monarchs actively pursued the reformation of elite Spanish culture after the model of the Burgundian court. Their courts became centers of humanistic investigation and scholarly discourse, sparking a number of significant publications.[23]

Five great manuscript cancioneros from the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries are the only sources for information regarding ballads and villancicos.[24]  The earliest manuscript of such work belonged to Ferdinand Columbus—the son of Christopher Columbus. Ferdinand bought all the new music he could acquire, both from Spain and from Italy. He catalogued them in his own hand and was careful to make note of the date and location where each book was published, as well as the rate of exchange at the time of purchase. His collection contains some of the greatest treasures of early printed song, including 108 early Spanish songs, mainly for three voices.[25]

Another manuscript of Spanish music from this era is the “Song Book of the Palace,” now located in the Royal Library at Madrid. This collection contains 460 pieces of music for anywhere between two to six voices, and neither this manuscript nor Ferdinand Columbus’ manuscript are written in score. Instead, the parts are written out in different places on the page. It was not until the 20th century that the significance of this collection was realized: first it was discovered that the poetry was good enough to go into Spanish anthologies, then folksong collectors explored it, copying out some of the tunes without the other parts. Finally, however, during the twentieth century, the true value of the work as a whole was recognized and the manuscripts have now been scored and printed.[26]

The musical style and status of the villancico and romance are comparable to the vernacular genres of other countries during this era; however, in spite of its appealing and popular nature of its texts and tunes, the villancico was a courtly genre. The villancico closely resembled the frottola of Italy in its musical structure and the Parisian chanson in declamation while its fixed and predictable reiteration is very similar to the French virelai or the Italian ballata.  Normally the music for one strophe of a villancico observes the following pattern:

Estribillo (Refrain)                           Copla (Stanza)

                           Mundanza                                                 Vuelta

A                               B                              B                             A


More precisely, the form for a villancico most often was aB cd cd aB, in which each letter represents a single line of verse or couplet, and the capital a repetition of the same text and music—that is, a refrain.[27]

While the overwhelming majority of Spanish songs in the cancioneros are villancicos, there are also a great number of romances. Romances were long narrative poems of many strophes usually consisting of four phrases of music. These phrases were presumably intended to be sung over and over again or as the basis for elaborate variations called glosas. While the character and texts of the romances indicate a now lost and unwritten tradition in the performance of the works, the preserved examples serve as blueprints for the sophisticated, courtly music. With harmonic basses like the villancico and Italian frottola, they also possess a supporting tenor line like the fifteenth-century chanson. Spanish composers demonstrated an expertise at writing variations, and speculation is made that this is how multistrophic romances were intended to be performed.[28]

Among the best represented works included in the cancioneros are those of Juan del Encima. His secular music seems to have been written when he was still a young man employed by the Duke of Alba, and although he later spent several years in Rome and even took a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, he never published any liturgical works—or at least, none survive today. He later returned to Spain where he served as prior at León during the last ten or so years of his life.[29] His romances and villancicos are charming, tuneful works that establish their moods more sharply and succinctly than those of his contemporaries. His romance, Triste España sin ventura, was probably written in lament for the death of Queen Isabella or perhaps her son, Prince Juan. Encima also wrote several pieces for theater including Gasajémonos de husía and Hoy comamos y bebamos. These theatrical productions were likely written and produced entirely by Encima as entertainment for the household of the Duke of Alba,[30] establishing Encima as one of the founders of Spanish theater.[31]

Between 1530 and 1560, concurrent with an increasing European vogue for romances, Italianate poetry became fashionable in Spain, and this too affected Spanish secular song.[32] The villancico and romance would remain the principal genres of Spanish secular song in the latter half of the sixteenth century; however, although not prolific in number and most often passed over, Spanish madrigals also existed as Spanish musicians cultivated the art of the Italian madrigal.[33] A few Spanish composers described their works as madrigals, although they often set Italian words to the music rather than Spanish either because they lived and worked abroad and the madrigal was primarily distinctive to Italy, or else because they lived in Barcelona which was the port through which Italian culture reached Spain. Even so, there are some genuine Spanish madrigals, that is, works composed by Spanish composers with Spanish words set to them, and the earliest known examples of Spanish madrigals date from not later than 1500. [34] In the Cancionero de Medinaceli, compiled about 1560, around half of the manuscript is devoted to madrigal-type texts in Spanish vernacular, but use Italian poetic meters. The themes, poetic style, and musical content of these songs differ greatly from native villancicos and romances: the tones are grave and the themes more serious. This mood is expressed elegantly but with reserved musical means.

There were only a handful of Spanish composers who took up the challenge of setting the new Petrarchan poetry by fellow Spanish writers to music, but their work was nonetheless significant. Gutierre Cetina was one of the earliest and best of the Spanish Petrarchan poets, writing in all the meters introduced in Italy and studying the Italian poets while living abroad in Italy. His claim to immortality lies in his well-known madrigal Ojos claros, serenos. Well-known as a poet of love, ironically Cetina was fatally attacked in 1554 in a love affair concerning others.[35] Juan Vásquez wrote exceptionally well in both Spanish and Italian genres and his collection Villancicos y canciones for three, four, and five voices was published in 1551 with another work, Recopilación de sonetos y villancicos a quarto y a cinco, published in 1560. Other Spanish composers chose to write their works in Italian including, Mateo Flecha the Younger and Sebastián Rabal; both men published works in Venice. Joan Brudieu was a Frenchman who wrote madrigals in both Castilian and Catalan, and his work can stand comparison against the best composers of his time.[36] This simply indicates that the madrigal was a far-reaching musical form and that though there may not be a great many madrigals written in Spanish, Spain’s composers still produced wonderful works in other languages while composers form other countries were inspired to create text for their works in the beautiful Spanish language; the inspiration went both ways.

Developed entirely as an Iberian genre, the sixteenth-century ensalada was a witty and amusing reflection of everyday life. It was usually through composed, paid careful attention to text painting, and was filled with satire, fragments of popular music, street songs, dramatic exchanges, quotations of Scripture, the liturgy, and classical authors. “Ensalada” is the Spanish word for “salad” and seems to be an appropriate name for such a varied collection of snippets from so many sources of daily life. Beginning about 1510, the earliest known ensalada texts are found in the works of Gil Vincente, a Portuguese poet, and other ensalada type works by Peñalosa and Garcimuñoz are preserved in the Cancionero musical de palacio. Juan Díaz Renfigo’s Arte poética española, published in 1592 defined the sixteenth-century genre and Mateo Flecho “el Viejo” (the elder) wrote a collection of characteristic ensaladas—witty masterpieces comparable with Janequin’s chansons.[37]

It was common in sixteenth-century Spain that songs were written with both text and a vocal line for three or four voices, but often be rendered as solos. This tendency towards the solo song was highlighted by the immense popularity of the six-string Spanish lute, the vihuela, which became a typical domestic instrument in the sixteenth century. All types of music were arranged for this instrument—madrigals, favorite pieces of church music, ballades (romances), songs (villancicos) and dances—and lute books became popular. They would often begin with some general instructions and then easy studies for the beginner to play; however, the lute was for the professional also. It became the instrument of the serenade and was often played beneath a fair lady’s balcony. The vihuela later gave way to the easier five-string Spanish guitar towards the end of the sixteenth century, but guitar music remained a popular mainstay of Spanish music.[38]

In addition to the works previously described, there was also a great deal of Spanish solo art songs written outside of Spain. However, up until current time, many secular Spanish songs have been excluded from the solo song repertory for perhaps a reason that seems obvious—they survive only in sources without the vocal part and have only a written text and accompaniment. Nonetheless, these resources indicate a vibrant repertory of Spanish solo songs in Spain, as well as in other countries, before 1650. All of the sources provide complete Spanish texts but no vocal line and have unmeasured Spanish guitar letter notation placed over the coordinating syllables of the text.[39] The indicated chord progressions are generally very simple and typical of dance songs from the era. The progressions I-V and V-I are predominant with frequent secondary dominants resolving to their temporary tonics. Occasionally modal elements are also found in such chord progressions as V-IV or I-VII (built on the lowered seventh tone).[40]

How was the text of these guitar songs rendered? Scholars are not positive, but several suggestions have been given. Perhaps the words were intended to be spoken to guitar accompaniment, producing a sound similar to the eighteenth-century melodrama, in which an orchestra accompanied a spoken dialogue. Still, there is no definite reason to dismiss that the text was intended to be sung and a singer could easily improvise a simple recitative following the rhetoric of the written text. The singer could also have adapted the words to the rhythm of a dance suggested by a ritornello, or perhaps the songs may have been based on specific melodic skeletons upon which the vocalist would improvise freely. Whatever the case, these guitar songs with no vocal line are found frequently in Renaissance Spain.[41]

It could be asked where the Spaniards learned composition, and some have speculated that their first teachers were Flemish men like Nicholas Gombert who came to Spain about 1517 with Emperor Charles V. One of Spain’s most famous composers, Cristóbal de Morales, most certainly learned a great deal from Flemish composers and the Spaniards were well familiar with the music of Josquin des Prés. However, manuscripts of Spanish secular song from this era show that foreign teachers likely came much earlier than originally thought, and they were not Flemish at all. Among the minstrels kept in attendance for the medieval kings of Castile and Aragon were Englishmen and Scotchmen. English minstrels were particularly noted for their harp playing and how much influence this had on the popularity of the Spanish lute and guitar can only be speculated. [42]

One very intriguing point to ponder from this time period is the influence Spanish music had upon the colonization of the New World. This transmission of culture began taking place in the 1520’s and 1530’s when missionary priests came to the New World to establish churches and schools for the education and conversion of the native Indians. Music especially became an important part of these missionary programs and the attempts to teach the Indians to play and sing European music were quite successful. Manuscripts copied or used in the colonies from this time period reinforce the impression that the “Spanish” musical culture found in the New World represented the same blend of Spanish and European musical culture found in the Iberian peninsula.  In the earliest surviving manuscripts from the colonies are found pieces by Josquin, Isaac, Mouton, Compére, and Sermisy along with works by Iberian composers such as Peñalosa, Anchieta, Escobar, and Morales.[43] Although much is still unknown about the musical culture during the first centuries of Spanish colonization in the New World, there is enough to recognize the myriad implications of both the confrontation and coexistence of European Renaissance values and indigenous traditions.[44]

There is an old belief among Spanish musicians that sacred music is of greater importance than its secular counterpart. Perhaps ironically then, ever since the beginning of the sixteenth century, it has been Spain’s secular music—not her sacred—that has taken the lead in the development of expression.[45] With a great variety of sound, rhythm, and harmony that creates music that is distinctly Spanish, there can be little question as to the importance of Spain’s music to the development of Western secular music. And because Spain held a great deal of land claims in the New World and was a key figure in its colonization, Spain’s musical contributions spread even more, creating a lasting monument to the masterpieces of the Spaniards. By understanding the historical happenings of this period, the genres specific to Spain, and the men who composed such works, greater appreciation can be developed for the contributions of the country that is most often overlooked—Spain.


Baron, John H. “Secular Spanish Solo Song in Non-Spanish Sources.” Journal of the American Musicological Society, 30, No. 1 (Spring 1977): 20-42.

Bell, Aubrey F.G. “Cetina’s Madrigal.” The Modern Language Review 20, No. 2 (Apr. 1925): 179-183.

Brown, Howard M. and Louisa K. Stein. Music in the Renaissance, 2nd ed. Upper Saddle River, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1999.

Hoppin, Richard H. Medieval Music. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1978.

Trend, J.B. “The Performance of Music in Spain.” Proceedings of the Musical Association, 55th Sess. (1928-1929): 51-76.

________. “Spanish Madrigals.” Proceedings of the Musical Association, 52nd Sess. (1925-1926): 13-29.

Wardropper, Bruce W. “The Impact of Folk Song on Sacred and Profane Love Poetry in Post-Tridentine Spain.” The Sixteenth Century Journal 17, No. 4 (Winter 1986): 483-498.

[1] John H. Baron, “Secular Spanish Song in Non-Spanish Sources,” Journal of the American Musicological Society 30, No. 1 (Spring 1977): 20.

[2] Richard H. Hoppin, Medieval Music (New York: W. W. Norton, 1978), 318.

[3] Bruce W. Wardropper, “The Impact of Folk Song on Sacred and Profane Love Poetry in Post-Tridentine Spain,” The Sixteenth Century Journal 17, No. 4 (Winter 1986): 483

[4] Ibid., 485.

[5] Hoppin, op. cit., 318.

[6] Ibid., 320.

[7] J. B. Trend, “The Performance of Music in Spain,” Proceedings of the Musical Association, 55th Sess. (1928-1929): 61.

[8] Hoppin, op. cit., 318.

[9] Trend, loc. cit.

[10] Hoppin, op. cit., 318-319.

[11] Ibid., 320.

[12] Ibid., 319.

[13] Ibid., 321-322.

[14] Trend, op.cit., 66.

[15] Ibid., 66-67

[16] Ibid., 63-64.

[17] Ibid., 65.

[18] Howard H. Brown and Louise K. Stein, Music in the Renaissance, 2nd ed. (Upper Saddle River, New Jersey: 1999), 213-215.

[19] Ibid, 220-221.

[20] Trend, op. cit., 69.

[21] Brown, op. cit., 215.

[22] J. B. Trend, “Spanish Madrigals,” Proceedings of the Musical Association, 52nd Sess. (1925-1926): 13-14.

[23] Brown, loc. cit.

[24] Ibid.

[25] Trend, “Spanish Madrigals,” op. cit., 15.

[26] Ibid.

[27] Brown, op. cit., 217-218.

[28] Ibid, 219.

[29] Ibid, 217.

[30] Ibid, 219.

[31] Trend, “Spanish Madrigals,” op cit., 17.

[32] Brown, op. cit., 220.

[33] Ibid, 219-220.

[34] Trend, “Spanish Madrigals,” op. cit., 13-15.

[35] Aubrey F. G. Bell, “Cetina’s Madrigal,” The Modern Language Review 20, No. 2 (Apr. 1925): 179-180.

[36] Brown, op. cit., 220.

[37] Ibid.

[38] Trend, op. cit., 69-70.

[39] Baron, op. cit., 20-21.

[40] Ibid., 25.

[41] Ibid., 26.

[42] Trend, “Spanish Madrigals,” op. cit., 16.

[43] Brown, op. cit., 224.

[44] Ibid, 227.

[45] Trend, “Spanish Madrigals,” op. cit., 18.

Sarah Gilbert, a graduate student at Campbellsville University, is a private music instructor in Hodgenville and Elizabethtown, Kentucky. She is pursuing a Master of Arts in Music with a vocal emphasis. Besides music, Sarah enjoys studying Hispanic culture and working to master Spanish.