The life of Lope de Vega (1562-1635)
Rennert, Hugo Albert , 1858-1927  //
Ó^-clíJ7*^ M u s e m. £ > * t # v < ~ 4 m J ^ m & ¿ * P. 0 x r C^fc?<sy/'rJtA* LMAuottoapghopSreaasp'ge.ffhe «r/z^y/ &Tbtfr Btrihtseh t4 -^7t ~ i Bdiezalrsí, Facosímifle in now a LAS BIZARRIAS DE BELISA 357 lightness of touch and a joyous spirit that make it delightful reading : it has but one fault, that it is too long. The poet asks : ¿Y si el diuino Homero Cantó con plectro á nadie lisonjero " La Batrochonomachia, Porque no cantaré la Gatomachia?" Had he sung it in half the number of verses, however, it would have been even more enjoyable. The Gatomachia is dedicated to Lope's son—" Don Lope Félix del Carpió, soldado en la Armada de su Magestad "—a proof that this son was still living at this time. Ticknor records that this mock-heroic has been a favorite in Spain from its first appearance, and that it is still probably more read than any other of Lope's miscellaneous works.1 On May 24, 1634, Lope finished, at Madrid, the comedia Las Bizarrías de Belisa, a sprightly comedy, at the conclusión of which , addressing the audience, he says: "The poet, most noble Senate, Who erstwhile had left the Muses, Now with the desire to serve you Once again came to invoke them, So that you may not forget him: And here the comedia endeth." There is you may not deep note of sadness in these last words: "so that forget him. One sees how reluctantly the painful warrior, famous for fight" contemplates surrena Another edition of the Rimas of Burguillos appeared in 1674, at Madrid, and again in the Obras Sueltas, Vol. XIX. Senado Oue ya ilustre, el poeta las Musas dejaba, Con deseo de serviros Volvio otra vez a llamarlas Para que no le olvidéis : Y aqui la comedia acaba." autograph of this play is in the British Museum; it was printed Vega del Parnaso (1637). So far as I know no later autograph comedia by our poet has been preserved. See the facsimile at the beginning of this volume. In the The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The The Last line. El third Stanza Ella y su Venus, y madre en despojos, Cupido, bellos enojos, Truecan efectos y Pues Venus quedó sin ellos Después que le dio sus ojos. Mas si Venus con ellos herir Como Ni hubiera más que Rimas humanas y y mirar gracias oir, hubiera que dessear, sus pudiera, pedir." Madrid, divinas del Licenciado Tome de Burguillos. 1634, fol. 142. ANTOMICA stanza 359 of this poem contains a touching allusion to her mother's blindness. For Antonia Clara also, Lope had, on a subsequent occasion, written the loa to an eclogue which seems now lost, and which Antonia probably recited at some festival in her father's house, before a distinguished assembly composed of the Duke of Sessa and others, among whom we readily imagine that the theatrical profession was represented. It is deeply to be regretted that this eclogue has not survived; being written for such an intimate gathering, it doubtless contained many allusions to events in the life of the poet, and we have seen how invaluable Lope's eclogues are for the story of his life and loves. Indeed, Antonio de León, a friend of the poet, in some verses published among the Elogios panegíricos after Lope's death, alludes to these compositions as the keys to may divers secrets " : Sus églogas suaves De diversos secretos fueron llaves, Que Belardo tal In vez con versos Se lamentó pastor de sus sabios agravios."1 oíd; the child well believe her father's proud assurance that she was very beautiful. The evil effects which association with the stage had had upon the father, were destined to ruin the daughter. It does not appear that Lope made any effort to shield his child from the dangers of the theatre. His letters, on the contrary, seem to show much complacency in this matter. The loa just mentioned, which Antonia recited "wearing a sacristan's gown," relates wholly to the comedia, to the players and to matters connected with the theatre. Lope was now advanced in years, and, despite his complaints, his life had been a successful one as the world goes. But, in his old age, Nemesis overtook him, and Roque Hernández de Ayala was to be avenged. was seventeen years had become a woman, and we may Obras Sueltas, Vol. XX. p. 304. He who THE LIFE OF LOPE DE VEGA had been heedless of the recklessly whirlwind, sown the wind, was now right, who had at last to reap the harvest of Montalvan, in his Fama-postuma, speaking of the year Lope's death, says: "He put no trust in his health, although it was so good, because he knew that any illness is more dangerous in very healthy persons than in the past. This, he had suffered during the very sickly last year two misfortunes (as if one were not sufficient for a single life), which had rendered him subject to frequent fits of melancholy, now newly called hypochondria." What these two misfortunes were has been a puzzle for more than two centuries and not a half; at last the cloud of mystery has lifted, and say. As we but would the death of the we know what Montalvan The first is, in all probability, poet's son, Lope Félix del Carpió y Luxan; the second, of his shall see, concerns the conduct daughter Antonia Clara. The last poem prepared for press by Lope before his death is an eclogue entitled Filis. Its veiled allusions had long mystified admirers of the great inventor, who were naturally led astray by the name Filis given to the heroine. This Filis was not the divinity of his early ballads : as the sequel will show, it is now certain that under this name Lope disguises his own daughter Antonia Clara. She is the Filis of the eclogue, while the father figures therein as the shepherd Eliso. This, I believe, was first pointed out by Sr. D. Francisco Asenjo Barbieri, in his Ultimos Amores de Lope de Vega Carpió. With this key the lock of the eclogue Filis opens. In this poem Lope relates,—discreetly bedecking, and in part obscuring, his narrative under cover of poetic garlands,—the elopement of his daughter Antonia Clara with a Court gallant. Corroborative evidence of this is found in the eclogue of another of Lope's 1 Filis, Egloga, señora portuguesa. poem was and in the Obras 2 la dezima Musa, Doña Bernarda Ferreirá de la Cerda, Madrid, 1635. I have never seen this edition. The republished in 1637, in the Vega del Parnaso, which I possess, Sueltas, Vol. X. p. 112, Madrid, 1876, FELINO 361 friends, Dr. Juan Antonio de la Peña. In the prologue to his poem this writer, after giving a brief outline of Lope's life, says : "He was ordained a priest and in this office his conduct was towards the poor, insults, and very exemplary. He was most charitable setting them a rare example; pardoning devout in celebrating the mass. He was taken ill as the result of serious and unforeseen occurrence, at a on St. Bartholomew's Day, while present public discussion of some medical questions, held Scots Hospital." In this eclogue the allusion to this fact and to the elopement of the poet's daughter are unmistakable : "Seventy-three journeys the sun had made—if a year be a journey—from Aries to Pisces, when Belardo compassed his destiny : Death assaulted him at a festival given by the head shepherd Felino to Galen."3 at the Egloga elegiaca á la Fama inmortal de Frey Lope Félix de Vega Carpió, panegírico fúnebre de este grande Ingenio. Imprimióse en Madrid, 1635. 8o. It has been reprinted in the Obras Sueltas, Vol. XIX. p. 495, and foll. 2 Enfermó de un grave accidente que le dio día de San Bartholomé, assistiendo á unas conclusiones de Medicina, que se tuvieron en el Hospital de los Escosses." Setenta y tres El un año es un Del termino del Aries a los rojo Sol (si caminos hizo en veces camino) Peces, destino. su Quando acabó Belardo Assaltóle la muerte en una fiesta Que hizo a Galeno el mayoral Felino. Estaba la materia bien dispuesta, en las conclusiones de aquel día Halló su vida conclusión honesta. Y más quanto ingratitud es fementida, quando el honor se confiaba tigre que de oveja está vestida. Mas vuelvo a De nuestro aquellas luces eclipsadas buen Belardo que en sus penas, Aunque fueron por él tan bien lloradas, No hallar satisfacción le heló las venas. Floris. Como Y el esas sinrazones causa el oro, p. 509. ciego robar a Europa Júpiter imitó forma de toro." Ibid. amor, pues por THE LIFE OF LOPE DE VEGA The words of the prologue above "festival to Galen." Felino is the which fully explain this poetical name by designated. Lope's eclogue Filis, the last of his works, as we have said, to be sent to press during his lifetime. I shall merely give such excerpts from the poem as are important for the present purpose. Lope tells us that Filis "was left to him," by "the highlander Rosardo " [Roque Hernández de Ayala], "husband of Marbelia" [Doña Marta], and that when entrusted to him she was but three days old. He indulged her every wish; all the wealth of all the world would he have given her, had it been his to give : Quanto del Sur al polo de Calisto Es plata, es perla, es oro, le ofreciera, Si fuera rico yo como bienquisto." was Let us Philip IV. turn now to " pleasure only was mine"; she was carefully guarded against evil influences. "Filis grew up and my love increased." She was seventeen years old, "when it was my misfortune and her fate that Tirsi should hear her singing at a festival; Tirsi, a swain of the head shepherd Felino: Era su gusto solamente el mío, Para que más su ingratitud te asombre, Y en tanta obligación tanto desvio. Crecia Filis, y Her mi amor crecia. ¿Qué cosa no aprendió? Si bien dispuesto Su entendimiento a toda ciencia y arte, De planetas benévolos compuesto; Cf. also the account which he says was as mysterious Cardoso, who lasted four was one public discussion, and of Lope's death, as his life, given by Dr. Fernando of the participants in these ceremonies, which of this Carpió. 2 days. Oración Fúnebre en la Muerte de Lope Félix de Vega Obras Sueltas, Vol. XIX. p. 487. was The Queen, Doña Isabel, called Belisa. Quiñones de Benavente, Entremeses, ed. Rosell, Madrid, 1872, Vol. I. p. 457. FILIS 363 Ninguna De quantas supe generosa parte constituyen aquel brio Que con la honestidad términos parte, Que Filis no aprendiese en daño mío, Pues tantas gracias fueron el escollo En cuyas peñas se rompió el navio. Habia visto decisiete vezes Filis, y el sol por su inmortal camino La distancia del Aries a los Peces, Quando por mi desdicha y su destino, oyó cantar en una fiesta, Tirsi, zagal del mayoral Felino Tirsi la Here is the our was irrefragable proof that this calamity befell much with Filis. Her oíd nurse poet in 1634, for on August 12 of that year Antonia seventeen years old. The blame, the poet continúes, not rest so did had been bribed by Tirsi's of gold that she honour " gold had : so great was no the woman's greed regard for either danger or : ¡ Oh quanto puede en una vieja avara La codicia del oro, que atrevida Ni en el peligro ni el honor repara! " observed a change in his daughter; no proposed for her, pleased her; he noticed she dressed her hair and adorned herself, although there was no festival or special occasion for it. She grew capricious and variable as the moon, now meek, and now importúnate; the father became troubled and watchful, but so complete was her dissimulation that it even grieved him to have been suspicious : suitor que he how carefully Pues como viese yo tanta mudanza En Filis de la vida que solia Pasar con menos ceño y más templanza, Y que quando casalla proponia, " The father Ningún pastor El Tajo le agradaba, Porque ocupado el corazón tenía: "Que cuidadosa del cabello andaba, que sin fiesta ni ocasión alguna De las secretas galas se adornaba; Y que con más mudanzas que la luna Por las lineas de plata de los cielos, Ya se mostraba fácil, ya importuna, Abrí los ojos a tener desvelos, Porque fue su traición con tanto engaño, Que me pesaba de que fuesen celos." Finally, the shepherd Eliso (Lope), returning home one evening and inquiring for Filis, received no answer to his Filis had fled with her maid, taking words, even the dog, "watchful guardián de la flock," with them: " El mastín del ganado vigilante, También a la crianza desatento Se fue con ellas; "... " Thus," the poet says, "was my cherished treasure from torn me " Así fue el rapto de mi prenda cara." A One can father. his imagine what blow this was to was the aged of It broke his heart, for his Filis " the soul eyes." " Filis, que el alma de mis ojos era." His to see deep, tender lo ve so afflicted him; to see that "marché y a la pagado amor, Silvio, Filis para mí tenía me mueve, Alma de mármol, corazón " de nieve." And do not think that lovely Filis said bring the day. And the she used to me : many daylight ever dawned until Eliso, write, for now I times, O inausp Elegant stars! To write what I dictated to Soul desired Speak through her. Her, for even my heart, yet again it seemed eyes, though I drew my inspiration from her lovely and they were not the least rare of my thoughts :— as No pienses que hasta que me decía la aurora amanecía Filis bella : Escribe, Eliso, que ya traigo el día.' Y muchas vezes ¡ay, contraria estrella! Ella escribía lo que yo dictaba, Que hasta el alma quería hablar por ella. Otras vezes parece que tomaba De sus ojos la luz de mis concetos, Y no era lo que menos acertaba. Juzgaba yo sus ojos tan discretos Que pensaba que versos producían como suele la It is the causa " los efetos." wretched father; : " ingratitude of his daughter which crushes the all else may be forgotten, but not La vida el ingratitude Y aun Pero la perdona al homicida, con ser de tanto precio, ingratitud jamás se olvida." se honor, earth. "The night descends, and all that Phoebus guilds rests upon land and sea, save I alone ; I cannot rest either at night no For him henceforth there is repose on or dawn : " Baja la noche, en Febo, descansa These few y quanto ilustra y dora tierra y mar ; yo solo Ni " Descanso a la noche ni a la aurora." Quotations will give the reader some slight conception of the exceeding beauty of Lope's poem— its caressing melancholy, its enchantingly musical verse. It is in truth a perfect masterpiece of impassioned and convincing art. This, thus briefly told, is the story of the last and most crushing sorrow of the great master's life. Worn out in his struggle against the malice and envy of his foes and rivals, he had need now of all his resignation and fortitude. 366 THE LIFE OF LOPE DE VEGA But in the bitterness of his heart he cannot refrain from bursting forth against all womankind : " Oh how much, Silvio, the most prudent errs, in trusting to a woman, for the firmest doth earth : " savour more of the rib than of the ¡ En fiar de Mas Oh quanto, Silvio, el mas discreto mujer ; que la mas firme sabe á la costilla que á la tierra! " yerra Silvio asks : " Who would have thought that Filis e'er could be to thee, Eliso, so cruel and ungrateful ?" He who considers her as lover," is Eliso's answer. Again Silvio says that "some have held Filis to be of your own blood," to which Eliso makes the evasive reply: Between bringing up and begetting there's no difference." And, when asked why he has not complained of the offense, the poet answers: "Because the tongue's a miserable means. God is a King eternally wise, and a heart that weepeth can do more than all the sages ever can persuade"; and "when justice is silent, then he's a fool who asks for it to silence I constrain me." La lengua baja diligencia. Un rey eternamente sabio, Y puede más un corazón que llora Que quanto puede persuadir el sabio. Porque Dios es El que Quando enmudece la justicia, es necio la pide; yo á callar me obligo." Finally the poet resigns himself to his ing the divine justice of his punishment pregnant phrase, "As is the tree, so shall Qual es el árbol, tal produce el "lot, acknowledgin the mournful, the fruit be" : fruto." Tirsi,—this gallant of the Court of Evidently he must have been some powerful noble, cióse to the King or to his favourite, the Count Duke Olivares. Señor Asenjo Barbieri conjectures that Tirsi was D. Ramiro Nuñez Felipez de Guzman, Marques was who this Philip IV.? Duke's son-in-law. He called attention to the "Tirsi" (genitive of Thyrsus), a stalk or stem, and Ramiro; and protector of the notorious enmity between Lope and the dramatic poet Alarcon, whose special friend also to Medina de las Torres was D. Ramiro had, through the favour of the Count Duke Olivares, been advanced successively, and rapidly, to a number of very high offices. He was made Grand Chancellor of the Indies, and President of its Council of the Crown of Council of Italy. Treasurer General Aragón, and finally President of the He was therefore a person of great power and belonged, we are told, to the raffish set of young noblemen in Madrid. Son. Item. I declare that all the furniture now in the house in which I, Vega, the time, my living in the Calle de Francos, belongs to Da. Antonia de Sátégui, with the use of which she has favoured me for a long time. She, named by D. Luis de Usátegui, who is at present in Barcelona, in the service of the Marques de Mortara. Doña Feliciana also had a daughter, Doña Agustina de Usátegui, a Nun in the Convent of the Incarnation at Estéte. Arévalo. 1657 Antonia Clara was 40 years old, July 13, 1674, this grandson of our poet, D. Luis Antonio Usátegui y Vega Carpió, then a Captain of Infantry in Milán, sold the paternal house in the Calle de Francos to Mariana Romero, an actress (comedianta), and the wife of Luis Ortiz from whom she was legally called. On In The Life of LOPE DE VEGA There can be no question as to the identity of persons, for Lope addresses him: "O Ramiro Filipe, glorioso de Guzman origen claro," and again calls him "generoso eclogue, in which a shepherd Tirsi also figures, is contained in the Vega del Parnaso, a volume for which the Aprobación was written by Lope's friend Joseph de Valdivieso, the day after Lope's death. This would show that the poet had arranged the Volume for the press, and this circumstance seems to me to tell greatly against the hypothesis of Sr. Asenjo Barbieri. separated (Nueva Biograjia, p. 527). D. Luis de Usátegui was 38 years oíd in 1674, and apparently left no descendants. With him the family of the great poet became extinct. Lope's house, in this last notice we have of it, is again associated with the Madrid stage. This is not strange, however, as all this part of Madrid,—including the Calle de Francos, the Calle de Cantarranas, Calle de las Huertas, Calle de Santa Maria, between the Calle de León and Mentidero and the Calle de Ramiro." This Josephe, including the Calle del Amor de Dios,—was a quarter much favoured by the theatrical profession at this time. Bartolomé Romero in 1638 owned a house in the Calle de Francos at the córner of the Calle del his Niño, and another in the Calle del Amor de Dios, where was one of neighbours Pinedo ; de las Huertas. 1 See Nuevos and Sánchez de Vargas lived in the Calle Datos, pp. 160, 212, 262, etpassim. to have been of news actually writing his Aprobación Lope's death: "Permítaseme este paréntesis para dezir que estando escriuiendo esta aprobación, nos le arrebató el Cielo." The Aprobación is actually dated "26 de Agosto" — 26 de Agosto "— was appended the day after the text of the Aprobación was written, and in that case the substitution of 6 for 8 would be a simple misprint. Lope died soon after five in the afternoon of August 27 : we may take it as certain that the news was all over Madrid within an divieso would naturally be among the very first to hear Montalvan mentions Valdivieso by name as one of those Valdivieso would appear bación when he received the hour, and Val Lope's bedside during the last Aprobación all the stranger. agony : it. Moreover, who prayed by which makes the phrase in the LOPE'S LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH ACHIEVEMENT : SUMMARY OF HIS Lope's life account once was now drawing rapidly to a close, and for an of his last illness and death we must have recourse more to the intimate friend of the poet's later years as he calls himself—Juan Perez Untrustworthy and misleading as we have found him for the earlier period of our poet's life, he now becomes our principal authority. After mentioning that Lope was apprehensive of the end, in spite of the good health he enjoyed and that he had met with two great misfortunes within the last year (see p. 360) the biographer continues: "Alonso Perez de Montalvan van [the bookseller, and father of the poet and biographer], seeing his friend (Lope) so sad one day, —su alumno y servidor, de Montalvan. Invited him to Dine with him On the feast of the Transfiguration, which was the sixth of August, and after having dined, all three were discussing various matters, when Lope said his anguish was so great that his heart was almost breaking, and he prayed to our Lord to shorten his life; to which I replied :'Do not think of such things; for I trust in God and in the good constitution that you have, that this humour will cease and that we shall see you in good health in twenty years from now.' With a tender voice he replied :'Ah, Doctor, would to God that we may be safely delivered from this!' No, he was not mistaken, for these were all premonitions of his heart, which is never false to its master, and which gentlemen do when they travel,—they send their servants ahead to prepare a lodging for them. I have condensed Montalvan's somewhat verbose account of Lope's last days. THE LIFE OF LOPE DE VEGA Lope was to die very soon; his prophetic heart divined it, and its premonitory sighs armed him against illusions. On Friday, August 24, Saint Bartholomew's day, Lope arose very early, read his Office, said mass in his oratory, watered the flowers in his garden, and then shut himself up in his study. At mid-day he felt chilled, whether on account of the exercise of watering the flowers, or whether—as those of his family assert—because of a discipline which he administered to himself (as was his custom every Friday, in memory of the passion of Christ our Lord), and which was proved by the walls of the room whereto he retired, which were flecked with blood, and also by the discipline, which was stained with fresh blood.... Feeling indisposed and having permission to eat meat, on account of an affection of the eyes [yet he refused, and] ate some fish, for he was such a strict Catholic that he scrupulously observed all the commands of the church, even though his ailments should rebel thereat. In the evening he was invited to the discussion of some medical and philosophical theses, which were defended during three days by Doctor Fernando Cardoso, a great philosopher and one well versed in letters, at the Scots Seminary. While there he suddenly fainted and had to be conveyed to the room of the well-known poet, Dr. Don Sebastian Francisco de Medrano, an intimate friend who lodged in the Seminary, where he rested a while and was then carried to his home in a chair. He was put to bed and physicians were summoned, who administered a purgative, and also bled him, as he was feverish. On Sunday, August 26, Doctor Juan de Negrete, the King's physician, passing through the Calle de Francos by chance, Lope continued his literary labours until the day before his death; that day he wrote the Silva moral, as he styled the poem, entitled The Goiden Age," consisting of 246 verses, and also a sonnet on the death of a Portuguese gentleman. In the Advertencia prefixed, we read: "Let the Reader observe that this sonnet was the last verse Lope wrote." Both the Silva moral and the sonnet were printed in the Vega del on " Parnaso, and afterwards in the Obras Sueltas, Vol. IX. 2Montalvan accuracy says August 18. of his narrative. This may be an indication of the LAST carne ILLNESS 37i in to see him, not as a physician—for he had not been called—but as a friend who was concerned for his health. He felt his pulse, noticed his distressed breathing, recognized the quality of the blood, and foretold the result, saying very calmly that the last sacrament should be administered to him, for it would bring relief to one who had to die, and improvement to one who is to recover. If you say so, (replied Lope, quite willing), then it must be necessary; he turned over on the other side, to reflect on what awaited him. The doctor took his leave, and warned those present to watch him well, for his end was approaching. The Viaticum was administered with calm composure, and the doctor, observing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, said, "I am sorry for you, but it is not necessary." The doctor, seeing the pain, To speak, though his mental faculties were unimpaired." Many friends were present in the room, including the Duke of Sessa; his life-long friend Juan de Piña, and the poets Don Francisco de Aguilar, Juan Perez de Montalvan, Joseph de Valdivieso, and others. Praying fervently, holding a crucifix to his lips, at quarter past five o'clock in the afternoon, "he breathed forth his soul to the echo of the most sweet It was on this Testament, the been summoned in the Appendix. day, August 26, that Lope signed his last Will and Francisco de Morales y Barrónuevo having for that purpose. The text of this Testament is given notary THE James LIFE OF LOPE DE VEGA Jesús and of Mary, which all were repeating together." This is the narrative of the mighty poet's passing as given by his friend, Juan Perez de Montalvan. The funeral rites, arranged by his patron and testamentary executor, the Duke of Sessa, were of the most elaborate and impressive character. The ceremony lasted nine days, many of the nobility and other high dignitaries appearing as mourners. All Madrid seemed to share in the grief, and so great was the concourse of people that the streets were impassable. A pathetic incident of this solemn ceremony was the request of Lope's daughter, Sor Marcela, that the procession which followed her illustrious father to his grave, might be allowed to pass before the Convent of the Barefoot a of Trinitarians, in which she was nun.2 The San body of Lope de Vega laid in the church of Sebastian, Calle de Atocha. His ashes were not, however, permitted to rest here, but were removed in the early part of the nineteenth century or at the cióse of the preceding one. "During one of the famous cleanings (mondas) or remováis of dead bodies, which took place periodically, the precious remains of the great Lope de Vega were extracted, carelessly confused and jumbled, from row, 1 one of the vaults in the second niche of the third in which they were buried This lamentable error, Doctor Fernando Cardoso, in his Oración Fúnebre, la Muerte de Lope de Vega, Obras Sueltas, Vol. XIX. 487, merely was suddenly fell ill on St. Bartholomew's day, on the third day following. 2 that Lope carried home, and died This convent, founded by Doña Francisca Romero, daughter of Captain Juan Romero, situated at the northwest córner of the Calle de las Huertas and the Calle de San Josephe. The funeral procession therefore passed east on the Calle de Francos to the Calle San Josephe, thence south to the Calle de las Huertas, and thence west to the church of S. Sebastian. Montalvan cautiously alludes to Lope's daughter as "a relative of the poet to whom he was much attached." As Ormsby drily observes : "For all Montalvan's readers know, she might have been his aunt." 3 According de la Villa y to León Pinelo, Anales (in Amador de los Rios, Historia Corte de Madrid, Vol. III. p. 334), the remains were placed in the third niche in the vault beneath the altar. DEATH 373 ness, this criminal profanation, which now prevenís us from showing to strangers the sepulchre of the Fénix de los Ingenios, was committed in the view of a cultured and illustrious court, and without protest from the literary men of the time."1 Thus the present resting-place of the remains of the great poet is unknown. Lope's death verse, was the occasion of many panegyrics in which were collected and published by Montalvan. No less than one hundred and fifty-three authors are represented. Yet in this long list of names many of Lope's most eminent contemporaries, especially the dramatists, are conspicuous by their absence. This is a signal instance of ingratitude, for the dead poet, though he often grumbled at their spiteful envy, had nevertheless shown his habitual generosity in praising all of them, and some far beyond their deserts, in his Faurel de Apolo only five years before. Doubtless at heart they did not grieve when the "prodigy of nature" passed from this world. The old lion was dead, and the jackals could sleep in peace at last. Their great rival gone, the whole impecunious band Mesonero In Romanos, El antiguo Madrid, etc., Madrid, 1861, from p. 149. quoted, entitled Fama postuma de la Vida y Muerte del Doctor Frey Lope Félix de Vega Carpió y Elogios panegíricos, etc. Madrid, 1636. A similar collection was published at Venice, to which Italian poets contributed, under the title: we the work which have often de Fesquie poetiche, ovvero Lamento delle Muse Italiane in Morte del Signor Lope Vega. Venezia, 1636. It contains 104 compositions in prose and verse: among them a sonnet by Marino, who died in 1625. 3 La Barrera calis this memorial volunteer. The number of dramatists is remarkable. The names include: D. Francisco de Quevedo Villegas, D. Pedro Calderón de la Barca, Fr. Gabriel Tellez, D. Juan Ruiz de Alarcon, D. Antonio Mira de Amescua, ñames absent from the attention to the large list of contributors number of distinguished to D. Alonso de Castillo Solórzano, D. Esteban Manuel de Villegas, Luis Juan de Matos Fragoso, D. Jerónimo de Villayzan Garcés, D. Antonio Coello, D. Juan Bautista Diamante, D. Cristóbal de Monroy y Silva, D. Gonzalo de Céspedes y Meneses, Pedro Soto de Rojas, D. Pedro Rósete Niño, Salvador Jacinto Polo de Medina, Vicente Mariner, D. Alvaro Cubillo de Aragón, Matias de los Reyes, Jacinto Cordero. In fact the only dramatists who contributed to the Elogios panegíricos, were : Luis Velez de Guevara, D. Francisco de Rojas, Solis, Godinez, Belmonte Bermudez and Montalvan. Quiñones de Benavente, D. THE LIFE OF LOPE DE VEGA opportunities suddenly increased. Lucrando had a very substantial grievance—Brodneid, as the Germans aptly call it—and now, in the general scramble for the favor of the groundlings their chance of recognition was vastly improved. It must be frankly admitted that Lope was jealous of his own supremacy, that he eyed with suspicion any serious attempt to encroach on it, that he had his foibles and prejudices, his personal likes and dislikes. In such matters, this very human genius resembles the rest of the world. Having won for himself an unique position, Lope seems to have stood constantly on his dignity. Apparently he thought that he had a right to exact from the younger generation a measure of deference, and when this was forthcoming—as in the case of Montalvan—he bore himself with paternal kindness and a lavish generosity. In print he praised most of his fellow-poets and dramatists with an extravagance which must have tried those modest men very severely. Glance through his pages, and you perceive with astonishment that never in the history of mankind was there such an assemblage of genius and nobility as existed in Spain during the early seventeenth century. Lope forces the note of panegyric, and his gazettes are filled with promotions on a scale as enormous as that celebrated by Don Alhambra: " All round his wide dommions." clearly excessive. But these eulogies were not insolely for purposes of publication—to throw dust in the general eye. Lope has survived the searching test of having his private correspondence brought to light. In this long series of confidential letters extending over a period of thirty years, the expansive man unbosoms himself unreservedly: with the exception of a few testy phrases, let fall under circumstances of great provocation, his candid criticisms of his contemporaries are more just and charitable than those recorded of any other literary tended It is BENEVOLENT DESPOT more 375 dictator. control No doubt he should have shown self- No doubt, also, it would have been better had Cervantes and Alarcon not recriminated on their side. Just so, in a later and humaner age, it would have redounded more to the credit of Byron, Victor Hugo, Tennyson, and Brown- by refusing to wrangle with Cervantes and Alarcon. Ingrata had they respectively refrained from gibbeting Southey,  suben a mayores." Obras merecen superiores, suelo tratar bien quien. Sueltas, Vol. I. p. 332. THE LIFE MAN OF LOPE VEGA "There was no courted that ever lived." legate of his Holiness, Prince of Italy, Cardinal of Rome, Grandee of Spain, etc., who did not seek his society and at whose table our poet would not have been a favoured guest. Their Catholic Majesties, whenever they met him, would stop and gaze at him, as at some superior being, etc. It is safe to say that these fantastic stories as to Lope's association with influential courtiers, and the like, are greatly exaggerated. Lope's popularity seems to have been confined chiefly to the play-going masses. As we have already observed, he failed to acquire the friendship or protection of the ruling sovereign or of the powerful nobles who might have helped him by merely raising a finger. It is significant that during the three days of the great poet's agony, Philip IV. did not even send one of the court physicians to inquire after him, or to soothe his last moments. The only royal favor he ever received was a pensión in Galicia, of two hundred and fifty ducats annually. Moreover, as the last will of Lope de Vega shows, Philip IV. had promised the poet "in recognition of the great affection and goodwill with which he had served him," to confer an office or employment upon whomsoever should marry Lope's daughter Feliciana. This promise was unfulfilled. Fortunately, when Lope failed to obtain favor from others, he could safely count on his old patrón, the Duke of Sessa, and, whatever the Duke's weaknesses or shortcomings, it will always redound to his honour that he stood by his illustrious friend. 