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Uneasy Reflections: Images of Venice and Tenochtitlan in Benedetto Bordone’s “Isolario”
Author(s): David Y. Kim
Source: RES: Anthropology and Aesthetics, No. 49/50 (Spring – Autumn, 2006), pp. 80-91
Published by: acting through the The President and Fellows of Harvard College Peabody Museum

of Archaeology and Ethnology
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80 RES 49/50 SPRING/AUTUMN 2006

PRIMO X

La gran citta di Tcmiftitan.

Figure 5. View of Tenochtitlan from Benedetto Bordone, Isolario, 10 recto. Woodcut. Photograph: courtesy of Harvard

Map Collection.

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Uneasy reflections

Images of Venice and Tenochtitlan in Benedetto Bordone’s
Isolario

DAVID Y. KIM

Renaissance voyagers often remarked on the

similarities between Venice and cities in the New World.

The conquistador Alonso de Hoejda, for instance,
named the city on the Maraca?bo bay the diminutive

“Venezuela” because “it is a village built on pillars, with

bridges connecting each other, mak[ing] it look like a

little Venice.”1 An isolario, or “book of islands,”

published in 1547, noted a resemblance between

Venice and Tenochtitlan, now known as Mexico City.
The author of that book, Thomaso Porcacchi da

Castiglione, wrote that whereas other cities were

founded by men, Tenochtitlan was “another Venice,
founded by blessed God

…
by his very holy hand.”2

There was even a miniature version of Venice in this

“other Venice.” Porcacchi states that one of the islands

surrounding Tenochtitlan, once called Cuetavaca, “is
now called Venetiola, which is a rather grand and good

place.”3 Expressing pride in their New World capital,

Spanish humanists even claimed that Tenochtitlan, while

resembling Venice, had surpassed the Republic in

magnificence. In Francisco Cervantes de Salazar’s

treatise on New Spain, a foreign visitor touring

Tenochtitlan exclaims: “Look at the large number of

skiffs there! How many cargo canoes, the best for

bringing in merchandise! There is no reason for missing
those of Venice.”4

Venetian cartographers, travelers, humanists, and

diplomats also demonstrated a special interest in

Tenochtitlan.5 Gaspare Contarini, the Venetian

ambassador to the Spanish court, composed a number

of dispatches informing the doge, Antonio Grimani, of

Cort?s’s arrival in Tenochtitlan. His letters concentrate

particularly on the wealth of the newly discovered

lands, a subject of great interest to the Signoria. On

November 24, 1522, he wrote, “Hernando Cort?s

reconquered the great city of Tenochtitlan
. . . [H]e

sends back in ships a present for the emperor of pearls,

jewels and other precious things from this land, which
are worth 10,000 ducats.”6 Contarini adds, perhaps in
an ominous tone, that the New World “promises great

things for the future.”7 The renowned Venetian humanist

Pietro Bembo foresaw the consequences of these recent

geographic discoveries in his Istoria Vinziana.8 He

described the Portuguese and Spanish discovery of

1. Bruzen de la Martini?re, Grand Dictionnaire g?ographique,

historique et critique (Paris: Les libraries associ?s, 1769): “Un village
b?ti sur pilotis, dans de petities isles, avec des ponts de

communication de l’une ? l’autre, ce qui la lui fit regarder
comme une

petite Venize.” Cited in Frank Lestringant, Le Livre des ?les. Atlas et

R?cits Insulaires de la Gen?se ? Jules Vernes (Geneva: Droz, 2002), p.
111. For a general treatment of Venice’s relation with the New World

see L’impatto del la scoperta dell’America nella cultura veneziana, ed.

Angela Arico (Rome: Bulzoni Editore, 1990).

2. Thomaso Porcacchi da Castiglione, L’isole piu famose del

mondo, descritte da Thomaso Porcacchi da Castiglione Arentino e

intagliate da Girolamo Porro Padovano. Al Sereniss. Principe et

Signore II. S. Don Giovanni d’ Austria, General della Santiss. Lega
(Venice: Simon Galignani, 1572), p. 105: “La citt?, e ?sola di

Temistitan Messico, ? nella provincia del Messico nella nuova Spagna,
Mondonuovo: & tanto vien commendata per bella, bene ornata, &

ricca da tutti gli Scrittori, che non senza maraviglia vediamo un’altra

Venetia nel mondo, fondata da Dio benedetto, p?amente parlando;
con la sua santissima mano: dove Pa?tre son fondata da gli huomini.”

Cited in Lestringant (see note 1), p. 111.

3. Porcacchi da Castiglione, (see note 2), p. 106: “Il lago d’acqua
dolce ? lungo, e stretto, & ha alcuni bei luoghi,

corne sono Cuetavaca,
hora detta Venetiola ch? assai grande & buon luogo.”

4. Francisco Cervantes de Salazar, Life in the Imperial and Loyal

City of Mexico in New Spain and the Royal and Pontifical University
of Mexico as Described in the Dialogues for the Study of the Latin

Language Prepared by Francisco Cervantes de Salazar for Use in His

Classes and Printed in 1554 by Juan Pablos, ed. and trans. Minnie

Shepard and Carlos Casta?eda (Austin: University of Texas Press,

Austin, 1953), p. 57.

5. Denis Cosgrove “Mapping New Worlds: Culture and

Cartography in Sixteenth-Century Venice,” Imago Mundi 41(1992):83.
6. Marino San uto, / Diarii di Marino San uto, 1496-1533,

dal ?’aut?grafo Marciano ital, cl. Vil, codd. 419-477. Publicatti per cura

di Rinaldo Fulin, Federico Stefani, Nicolo Barozzo, Guglielmo

Berchet, Marco Allegri, auspice la Regia Deputazione V?neta di Storia

Patria (Venice 1879-1902), vol. 33, col. 557: “Fernando C?rtese ha

recuperate la gran cita di Temistitan, con tutti quelli paesi et provincie
che vi ho mandate in nota . . . Manda su in queste nave un presente a

l’Imperator, di perle, gioie et alter cose preci?se de quell paese.” Cited

in Italian Reports on America, 1493-1522, Letters, Dispatches, and

Papal Bulls, ed. G. Symcox, G. Rabitti, trans. P. Diehl (Turnhout:

Brepols2001), p. 87.

7. Ibid., “et prometeno gran cose et intrade per I’advenir.”

8. Pietro Bembo, Delia Istoria Viniziana (Milan: Delia Societ?

Tipogr?fica de’Classici Italiani, 1889).

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82 RES 49/50 SPRING/AUTUMN 2006

:-^^?;H

Figure 1. Detail from Battista Agnese, Atlante N?utico, 1553. Photograph: Courtesy of Harvard Map Collection.

new lands and trade routes as “a misfortune” to Venice,
but nevertheless characterized Tenochtitlan as a

“distinguished city, in a lake of salt water.”9
Venetian interest in Tenochtitlan expressed itself

visually in the form of cartographic representations. For

example, on Battista Agnese’s world map (1536), and

later on his map Atlante N?utico (1553), Tenochtitlan
is the largest depicted city (fig.1 ).10 The map

accompanying Pietro Martire d’Anghiera’s Historia de

llndie Occidentali, published in Venice in 1534, also

illustrates Tenochtitlan. Likewise, Giacomo Gastaldi’s

Universale d?lia parte del mondo nuovamente ritrovata

(1556) prominently exhibits the New World capital.11
Such images of the Americas entered Venetian

collections, both private and public. A globe which

included the Yucatan peninsula on its world view was

once housed in the Palazzo Ducale’s Sala del Maggior

Consiglio, the meeting place of the highest Venetian
9. Ibid., p. 347: “Alla citt?, da cotali incomodi percossa, un maie

non pensato da lontane genti e regioni eziandio le venne.” Ibid., p.
359: “Con que’popoli, che di sopra detti abbiamo, Messico, nella

contrada Temistiana citt? egregia, in un laco di salsa acqua.”
10. Ibid., p. 83. 11. Ibid.

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Kim: Uneasy reflections 83

magistrates.12 Venetian citizens demonstrating
a marked

interest in the American city included Alessandro Zorzi,
a writer known for his travel accounts of Ethiopia. Zorzi

collected a number of documents on the New World,
most notably a bird’s eye view of Tenochtitlan.13

The Venetian fascination with its New World twin
was not without reason. The two cities shared a

common urban fabric, with buildings built on water,
interlaced with canals and bridges. However, a deeper

examination reveals that Venice’s relationship with her

New World counterpart did not merely consist of

surface comparisons. While Venetians recognized the

similarities with Tenochtitlan and at times attempted to

mirror their city after the newly discovered capital, they
also wielded a civic rhetoric that simultaneously

negated these homologies. A paradox thus ensued:

Venice and Tenochtitlan were thought to be like and

unlike, similar yet fundamentally different.

Bordone’s Isolario

Benedetto Bordone’s Isolario, published in Venice in

1528, best illustrates the oscillating rapport between the

two cities (fig. 2).14 A cartographer, woodcutter, and

illuminator of manuscripts, Bordone was active in Venice

and the V?neto between the late fifteenth and first quarter
of the sixteenth centuries.15 In addition to being a prolific
painter of miniatures, Bordone has also been linked to

the design of the famous Hypnerotomachia Poliphili,

published in 1499 by the humanist printer Aldus

Manutius.16 A hybrid of antiquarian treatise and

romance, this lavishly illustrated book presents the

dream voyage of a young man Polifilo searching for his

beloved in a mystical landscape of gardens and

classical ruins.

In a similar vein, the Isolario guides its reader through
a wondrous voyage. Previous isolarii, such as those by
Cristoforo Buondelmonti and Bartolomeo dalli Sonetti,
were primarily concerned with the Aegean archipelago.17

In his Isolario, Bordone extended the range of distances

covered by previous isle manuals, transporting the

reader on an itinerary through the Mediterranean,

Atlantic, and Indian oceans (fig. 3). Condensing the

global archipelago into the format of the book,
Bordone’s Isolario conjures a sensation of virtual travel,

which would be impossible given the constraints of

geography and notation.18

Of all the world’s islands depicted in the Isolario, the

only two island cities included are Venice and

Tenochtitlan. For his representation of Venice, Bordone

could have drawn from a number of city views, most

notably Jacopo de’ Barbari’s monumental map of la

Serenissima published in 1500.19 For his rendering of

Tenochtitlan, Bordone modified the famed Nuremberg
map, the first image of the New World capital to reach a

wide European audience (fig. 4).20 Published in 1524,

12. Studi biografici e bibliografici sulla storia del la geograf?a in

Italia, vol. II (Rome: Societ? Geogr?fica, 1882), p.164.
13. For a brief biography and references on Zorzi, see Ethiopian

Itineraries circa 1400-1524 Including those Collected by Alessandro

Zorzi at Venice in the Years 1519-24, ed. O. G. S. Crawford

(Cambridge: University Press, Cambridge, 1958), p. 24.

14. Bendetto Bordone, Libro di Benedetto Bordone nel quale si

ragiona da tutte l’isole del mondo con li lor nomi antichi e moderni,
historie e favole, & modi del loro vi ver? & in quai parte del

mare

stanno & in quai parallelo e clima giacciono (Venice: Nicolo

d’Aristotile, 1528). Later editions were published in 1534, 1540, and

1547. For a bibliographic note
on Bordone’s work see the preface by

Umberto Eco in Benedetto Bordone, Isolario (Torino: Les belles lettres,

2000).

15. See Helena K. Sz?pe, “The book as companion, the author as

friend: Aldine octavos illuminated by Benedetto Bordone,” Word &

Image 11 (1995):77-99.

16. For this attribution, see Lilian Armstrong, “Benedetto Bordone,

Miniator, and Cartography in Early Sixteenth-Century Venice,” Imago
Mundi 48 (1996):65-92.

17. Among the literature on Cristoforo Buondelmonti’s Liber

insularum archipelagi (1420) and Bartolomeo dal I i Sonetti’s Isolario

(1485) see Patricia Fortini Brown, Venice and Antiquity: The Venetian

sense of the past (Yale University Press: New Haven, 1996), pp.
160-161 and Lestringant (see note 1). See also Ian R. Manners,

“Constructing the Image of a City: The Representation of

Constantinople in Christopher Buondelmonti’s Liber Insularum

Archipelagi,” Annals of the Association of American Geographers 87,
no. 1 (1997):72-102.

18. See Tom Conley, “Virtual Reality and the Isolario,” Annali

d’ltalianistica 14 (1996):121-130.

19. See Juergen Schulz, “Jacopo de’Barbari’sView of Venice: Map

Making, City Views and Moralized Geography before the Year 1500,”
The Art Bulletin 60 (1978):425-474.

20. The attribution of the map is still contested. An indigenous
Culhua-Mexican attribution is argued by Barbara Mundy, “Mapping
the Aztec Capital: The 1524 Nuremberg Map of Tenochtitlan, Its

Sources and Meanings,” Imago Mundi 50 (1998):11-33. An argument
for the map’s use of the European mappa mundi tradition can be found

in Emily Godbey, “The New World Seen as the Old: The 1524 Map of

Tenochtitlan,” Itinerario 19 (1995):53-81. For further bibliography on

the Tenochtitlan map, see Jean Michel Massing, “Map of Tenochtitlan

and the Gulf of Mexico,” in Circa 1492: Art in the Age of Exploration,
ed. Jay Levenson (Washington: National Gallery of Art; New Haven:

Yale University Press, 1992), p. 572. It should be noted that Bordone

employs Cort?s’s letter as a source for his commentary on Tenochtitlan.

However, Bordone alters the text, removing sections recounting the

interactions between Cort?s and Montezuma as well as Cort?s’s

arduous journey toward the capital. Absent of the Spanish

conquistador’s heroic narrative, Bordone’s text becomes a verbal atlas,

reciting place names and geographic features of the New World.

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84 RES 49/50 SPRING/AUTUMN 2006

Figure 2. Title page of Benedetto Bordone, Isolario (Venice, 1547).
Woodcut. Photograph: Courtesy of Harvard Map Collection.

this map accompanied the Latin edition of Hern?n

Cort?s’s Second Letter narrating his New World

conquest.21 Bordone encountered the map either

through this Nuremberg edition or through its Italian

translation published in Venice six months later.22

It is important to emphasize, however, that Bordone

did not simply replicate his cartographic sources for his

Isolario. Playing one map off the other, the artist’s

representation establishes a series of visual homologies
between Venice and her New World counterpart (figs. 5

and 6).23 Both cities are set in enclosed lagoons. Though
distorted from their appearance in reality, the

21. Preclara Ferdinadi. Cortesii de Nova maris Oceani Hyspania

Narratio, Nuremberg 1524. For
a list of sixteenth- and early

seventeenth-century publications of the 1524 Nuremberg map of

Tenochtitlan, see Mundy (note 20), p. 32.

22. La preclara Narratione di Ferdinando C?rtese del la Nuova

Ispagna del Mare Oc?ano (Venice: Bernardino de Viano, 1524).

23. Mario Sartor in his La citt? e la conquista: mappa e documenti

sulla trasformazione urbana e territoriale nell’America centrale del 500

(Reggio Calabria: Casa del libro, 1981) briefly comments on the

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Kim: Uneasy reflections 85

LIBRO

mjptt fe h mnBOdoyae Je loro falmaooM fcoo cwc fcoBMtt6c,?flff qM?k
?jcuno tuotDOyHKirdd tempo encepa loto tMnJimo?cotteflecoflttoyf<
tiolfifejtMBonti’Je twttftrn cu Queue cstxfBCwooo k loe iHttt.fi dueoctattow

Figure 3. Caribbean islands from Benedetto Bordone, Isolario, 18
verso. Woodcut. Photograph: Courtesy of Harvard Map Collection.

surrounding land acts as a frame, offering the viewer

similar vistas of the cities. Venice and Tenochtitlan also

display the same method of organization. Outlying
islands depart from a main urban cluster. In addition,

both cities exhibit a dense urban texture. Blocks of

houses and other buildings are tightly grouped together,

imparting a sense of teeming habitation. The upper and

lower ridges of Venice and Tenochtitlan also mimic one

another, following the same meandering contours.

Dissolving the rigid T-O format of the Nuremberg map,
Bordone seems to have employed Venice’s urban form to

shape his representation of Tenochtitlan. Likewise, the

view of Venice seems to borrow the format of enclosure

within a lagoon from Tenochtitlan. By means of these

cartographic similarities, Bordone enacts a visual and

semantic counterpoint between Venice and Tenochtitlan.

His text, in fact, emphasizes these analogies. In addition

to Tenochtitlan’s bridges, canals, and gates, the narrator

similarities between Venice and Tenochtitlan. See p. 92, note 46: “La si

confronti con la mappa di Venezia presente nel medismo volume con

cui condivide non pochi aspetti formali; ed ancora le due insieme.”

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86 RES 49/50 SPRING/AUTUMN 2006

Figure 4. Map of Tenochtitlan. Hern?n Cort?s, Second Letter to Charles V (Nuremberg, 1524). Woodcut.

Photograph: Courtesy of Harvard Map Collection.

declares that “there are . . . many other things that make

this city like Venice/’24

Discrepancies, however, coexist with the striking
similarities in the cities’ urban layout. Unlike Venice,
Tenochtitlan is provided with a clearly defined center.

Dedicated to the Culhua-Mexican gods, this plaza

served as the sacred precinct where religious rites,

including human sacrifice and heart extraction,
occurred.25 Emphasizing this central precinct is an idol

with outstretched arms assuming a cruciform posture.

Departing from the template of the Nuremberg map, the

24. Bordone (see note 14), 7v: “Ce ne sono anchora di molti altri

per esser la citta corne Venetia, posta in acqua, la provincia ? tutta

circondata da monti grandissimi, & la pianura ? de circoito di miglia

ducent’ottanta, nella quale
sono duoi laghi postri, liquali una

grandissima parte ne occupano, percio che questi laghi hanno di

circoito dintorno cento miglia, & l’uno ? d’acqua dolce, & l’altro ? di

falsa ripieni, & il piano ? da quelli per alchune coline separate, & nel

fine questi laghi sono congionto da uno stretto piano, & con barche

alla detta citta, & ville si conducono gl’huomini, & il lago salso, cresca

& scema, corne fa il mare & la citt? di Temistitan siede nel salso.”

25. The Culhua-Mexica erected two temple pyramids on this site,
one dedicated to the ancient agricultural and water god Tlaloc, the

other to the tribal deity Huitzilopochtli. See Mundy (note 20), pp.
16-20.

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Kim: Uneasy reflections 87

S E C O N D O

Figure 6. View of Venice, from Benedetto Bordone, Isolario, 29 verso, 30 recto. Woodcut. Photograph: Courtesy of Harvard Map
Collection.

city’s perpendicular avenues mirror the idol’s rectilinear

shape. As will be explored below, such a visual gesture
draws a meaningful equivalence between this pagan
idol and the moral character of the New World city.

Venice, by contrast, has no clearly defined center.

Instead, islands such as Chioggia and Lido encircle the

city. These floating satellites are, in fact, named with

churches: Santa Mich?le, La Certosa, Santa Spirito, and

Santa Chiara. Whereas in Tenochtitlan a pagan religious

symbol defines the urban center, Venice, without a focal

point, is surrounded by island churches forming a holy
corona. The notion of conceiving Venice as inviolate

and virginal, suggested by Bordone’s map, was often

remarked upon by Venetians and foreigners alike. For

instance, the sixteenth-century Venetian patrician
Marcantonio Sabellico wrote that his city “for a certain

novelty of placement and opportune position
. . . was by

itself the only form in all the universe so miraculously

disposed.”26 A century earlier, the Spanish traveler Pero

Tafur commented that even “if the whole world came up

against the city, the Venetians could sink a ship
. . . and

26. Marcantonio Sabellico, Del Sitio di Venezia (Venice 1502), ed.

Gildo Meneghetti (Venice: Stamperia gi? Zanetti, 1957), p. 10. Cited

in Patricia Fortini Brown, Art and Life in Renaissance Venice (New

York: Harry N. Abrams, 1997), p. 15.

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88 RES 49/50 SPRING/AUTUMN 2006

be safe.”27 The humanist Alvise Cornaro proposed a plan
to renovate the Bacino of San Marco in order “to

preserve the virginity of my dear patria and the name of

the Queen of the sea.”28 In another treatise on the

“santo lago,” Cornaro referred to Venice’s “immaculate

virginity,” calling his city “holy daughter of God.”29

Bonifazio de’Pitati’s triptych Cod the Father above

Piazza San Marco (1544) alludes to the myth that Venice

was founded on the day of the Annunciation, thereby

declaring the city’s connection with the Virgin.30
Bordone’s representation of the two cities thus poses

a paradox. Tenochtitlan is depicted as
an aggressively

pagan city, whereas Venice shows herself, almost

defensively, as the Christian Republic. Tenochtitlan’s

wondrous urban layout, however, finds
a counterpart in

Venice herself. The two maps thus bring together an

unlikely pair of twins, reflecting in the unified scheme of

the book contradictory aspects of both likeness and

otherness.

Uneasy reflections

The tension between “mimesis and alterity,” as one

scholar has termed it, was not unique to the Venetians.31

The Spanish conquistadors, for instance, recognized the

“otherness” of the New World in themselves. As the

upheavals of the Reformation and Counter-Reformation

unfolded, idolatry became an accusation applicable not

only to the Indian. Just as the conquistadors toppled
Aztec devotional images, so too did Catholics witness

the destruction of their own sacred objects in the tumult

of Northern European iconoclasm.32 Thus, Aztec idolatry
and Catholic veneration of images could be seen and,

indeed, were accused as being one and the same.

These parallels at times reached improbable
extremes. In certain situations, even cannibalism, a

ritual synonymous with the New World, became a

shared practice. Describing the Aztec consummation of

human flesh, the historian Pietro Martire d’Anghiera
wrote: “The wylde and myschevous people called

Cannibales or caribes whiche were accustomed to eat

mannes flesshe . . . molest them excedyngly invadynge

theyr countrey, takynge them captive, kylling and eating
them.”33 Cannibalism, however, was not an exclusively
Indian practice. On several documented occasions,

Spanish conquistadors ingested their crewmates to

survive shipwrecks and abandonment. In 1527 Alvar

N??ez Cabeza de Vaca, attempting to return to Mexico

City after enduring a shipwreck in Florida, came across

the remains of “five Christians who were in a ranch on

the coast, and who came to such extremity that they ate

each other, until only one was left, who being alone had

no one else to eat.”34 Furthermore, the endorsement for

the Spanish to eat human flesh
can be found in Juan

Focher’s Itinerarium Catholicum (1574), a treatise

discussing the proper interaction between missionaries

and Indians.35 At one point Focher comments: “In effect,
God prohibited in Genesis human meat, but there

are

two occasions in which it is permitted.”36 Focher’s first
case concerns the consumption of human flesh for

medicinal purposes. The second alludes to the scene

witnessed by Cabeza de Vaca, a situation of extreme

necessity. “In this case,” Focher writes, “it is permitted to

the Christian to eat the meat of a dead human, whether
or not it has been dedicated to the devil.”37 Ruminations

on such scenarios demonstrate just a sampling of the

vexing circumstances in which New World otherness
27. Pero Tafur, Travels and Adventures, 1453-39 (New York and

London: Broadway Travellers, 1926), pp. 156-172. Cited in
Brown (see

note 26), p. 10.

28. Document by Alvise Cornaro
on the San Marco Basin, Archivo

Stato Venezia, “Savi ed Esecutori alle Acque,” busta 986, filza 4, cc.

23-25: “Havendo dimostrato il modo, che vi ? per conservare la

virginit? a questa mia
cara patria, et il nome di Reina del mare, che il

mode ? con conservare lo suo porto, e la sua laguna.” Cited in

Manfredo Tafuri, Venice and the Renaissance, trans. Jessica Levine

(Cambridge, Massachusetts: The
MIT Press, 1989), pp. 159-160.

29. Alvise Cornaro, Trattato di Acque (Radova, 1560), 3r-3v:

“Eternamente questo lago si conservera, per
esser sempre

vigilantissimo Custode dell’ immaculate verginit? di questa
sacrosanta

figlioula di Dio.” Cited
in Vincenzo Fontana, “Modelli per la Laguna di

Venezia. Alvise Cornaro e Girolamo Fracastoro,” in Renzo Zorzi, ed.,

// paesaggio: Dalla percezione alia descrizione (Venice: Marsilio,

1999), p. 179.

30. Brown (see note 26), pp. 91-92.

31. Michael Taussig, Mimesis and Alterity: A Particular History of

the Senses (New York: Routledge, 1993).

32. See Thomas B. F. Cummins “To serve man: Pre-Columbian art,

Western discourses of idolatry, and cannibalism,” RES 42 (2002):

109-130.

33. Pietro Martire d’Anghiera, The decades of the Newe Worlde
or

West India (New York: Readex Microprint, 1955[1555]), folio 3. Cited

in ibid., p. 116. Cummins mentions that this 1555 translation of the

work would eventually
serve as the material that inspired

Shakespeare’s Caliban.

34. N?nez Cabeza de Vaca, Naufragios (1542) (Madrid: C?tedra,

1998). Cited in Cummins (see note 32), p. 120.

35. Juan Focher, Itinerarium catholicum profiscentiurn, Spanish
trans. Antonio Eguiluz (Colecci?n de Libros y Documentos referentes

a

la Historia de Am?rica, vol. XXII, Madrid; Liberia General Victoriano

Suarez, 1960). Cited in Cummins (see note 32), pp. 119-120.

36. Ibid., pp. 312-313.

37. Ibid.

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