that he was never inclined to forego any 

 usual payment from the theatre. Mon- 

 talvan estimates the amount derived from 

 his dramatic works alone at not less than 

 eighty thousand ducats. The presents 

 he received from individuals are computed 

 at ten thousand five hundred more. His 

 application of these sums partook of the 

 spirit of the nation from which he drew 

 them. Improvident and indiscriminate 

 charity ran away with these gains, im- 

 mense as they were, and rendered his life 

 unprofitable to liis friends and uncom- 

 fortable to himself. Though his devotion 

 gradually became more fervent, ii did not 

 interrupt his poetical career. In 1630 

 he published the Laurel de Apolo, a 

 poem of inestimable value to the Spanish 

 philologists, as they are called in the jar- 

 gon of our day, for it contains the names 

 of more than three hundred nnd thirty 

 Spanish poets and their works. Tliey 

 are introduced as claimants for the Lau- 

 rel, vrhich Apollo ii to bestow; and, as 

 Lope observes of himself that lie was 

 more inclined to panegyric than to satire, 

 there are few or any that have not at 

 least a strophe of six or eight lines de- 

 voted to their praise. Thus the multitude 

 of Castilian poets, which at that time was 

 prodigious, and the exuberance of Lope's 

 pen, have lengthened out to a work of 

 ten books, or sylvas, an idea which has 

 often been imitated in other countries, 

 but generally confined within the limits 

 of a song. At the end of the last sylva 

 he makes the poets give specimens of 

 their art, and assures us that many 

 equalled Tasso, and even approached 

 Ariosto himself; a proof that this cele- 

 brated Spanish author concurred with all 

 true lovers of poetical genius in giving 

 the preference to the latter. After long 

 disputes for the Laurel, the controversy 

 at length ends, as controversies in Spain 

 are apt to do, in the interference of the 

 government. Apollo agrees to refer the 

 question to Philip IV., whose decision, 

 either from reserve in the judge, or from 

 modesty in the reporter, who was himself 

 n party concerned, is not recorded. Tacts 

 however prove that our poet could be no 

 loser by liiis ch.ange of tribunal. 



HIS DEATH. 



He continued to publiih plays and 

 poems, and to receive every remuneration 

 tliat adulation and generosity could be- 

 stow, till tlie year 1635, wlit-n religious 

 thoughts had rendered him so hypochon- 

 driac, that he could hardly be considered 

 as in full pos^e=sion of his understanding. 

 On the 22d of August, which was Friday, 

 be felt himscli more than usiv^Hy op- 



o/Lope Felix de Vega Carpio. 6'i\ 



pressed in spirits and weak with age; 

 but he was so much more anxious about 

 the health of his soul than of his body, 

 that he would i\ot avail liimself of the 

 privilege to which his infirmities entitled 

 him, of eating meat ; and even resumed 

 the flagellation, to which he had accus- 

 tomed himself, with more than usual 

 severity. This discip^ine is supposed to 

 have hastened his death. lie fell ill oa 

 that night, and, having passed through the 

 necessary ceremonies with excessive de- 

 votion, he expired on Monday the 26th 

 of August, 1635. 



NUMBER OF Urs WORKS. 



As an author he is most known, as 

 indeed he is most wonderful, for the pro- 

 digious number of his writings. Twenty- 

 one million three hundred thousand of 

 his lines are said to be actually printed; 

 and no less than eighteen hundr'ed plays 

 of his composition to have been acted on 

 the stage. He nevertheless asserts in 

 one of his last poems, 

 Que no es minima parte, aunque ex etceso, 

 ]5e lo que esu por i*nprimir, lo itnpreso. 

 The printed part, though fir too large, is less 

 Than tliat which yet unprinted waits the press* 



It is true that the Castilian language is 

 copious ; that the verses are often ex- 

 tremely short, and that the laws of metre 

 and of rhyme are by no means severe. 

 Yet, were we to give credit to such ac- 

 counts, allowing him to begin his compo- 

 siiions at the age of thirteen, we must be- 

 lieve that upon an average he wrote mors 



than nine hundred linesariay; a fertility 

 of imagination, and a celerity of pen, 

 which, when we consider the occupations 

 of his life as a soldier, a secretary, a 

 master of a family, and a priest ; iris ac- 

 quirements in Latin, Italian, and Portu- 

 guese; and his reputation for erudition, 

 become not only improbable, but abso- 

 lutely, and, one may almost say, phy- 

 sically impossible. 



As the credibility however of miracles 

 must depend upon the weight of evi- 

 dence, it will not be fureigo to the pur- 

 pose to examine the testimonies we pos- 

 sess of this extraordinary facility and ex- 

 uberance oi composition. There does 

 not now exist the fourth part of the works 

 which he and his admirers mci.iion, yet 

 errougli remains to render hrm one of iiie 

 most volumnrous authors lliat ever put 

 pen to paper. Such was his facility, 

 tiiut he informs us in his Eflogije to 

 Claudio, that in«re th:«n a hundrtil times 

 he composed a play and produced it on 

 the stage in twenty- four hours. Mon- 

 tnlvai» declares that he latterly w»otc in 

 S K % metre 



