"_Deep sea, whose thundering waves in tumult roar, Call forth thy troubled spirit—bid him rise, And gaze, with terror pale, and hollow eyes, On floods all flashing fire, and red with gore. Lo! as in list enclosed, on battle-floor Christian and Sarzan, life and death the prize, Join conflict: lo! the batter'd Paynim flies; The din, the smouldering flames, he braves no more. Go, bid thy deep-toned bass with voice of power Tell of this mightiest victory under sky, This deed of peerless valour's highest strain; And say a youth achieved the glorious hour, Hallowing thy gulf with praise that ne'er shall die,— The youth of Austria, and the might of Spain._" Herrera takes up the tradition of his forerunner, perfects his form, imparts a greater sonority of expression, a deeper note of pathos and dignity. The soldier, with his languid sentiment, might be the priest; the priest, with his martial music, might be the soldier. Yet Herrera's fealty never wavers; for him there is but one model, one pattern, one perfect singer. "In our Spain," he avers, "Garcilaso stands first, beyond compare." And in this spirit, aided by suggestions from the poet's son-in-law, Puerto Carrero, aided also by illustrations from the whole Sevillan group,—Francisco de Medina, Diego Girón, Francisco Pacheco, and Cristóbal Mosquera de Figueroa,—Herrera undertook his commentary, _Anotaciones á las obras de Garcilaso de la Vega_ (1580). Its publication caused one of the bitterest quarrels in Spanish literary history.