Guardado en ambar, siempre regalado, And with her he, at whose success and joy Those eyes which where they turned with love and softness beam'd. Tender was he, and of a gentler kind, A softer frame than haply knighthood needs; In language haughty, somewhat meek in deeds; On foot a gallant youth, on horse an airy knight."' On his return from the disastrous service in which he had been engaged, Lope published this poem, and at the same time, says his lordship, had the satisfaction of adding another on the death of a man who had contributed to complete the discomfiture of that formidable expedition." We were disappointed, however, on finding that his lordship was as deficient in his account of this second epic of the 'Dragontea,' as he seems to have been unnecessarily dif fuse in that which he gives of the Angelica.' With all its absurdity and all its national prejudice, we believe that the Dragontea' discovers more of the natural and peculiar genius of its author than any of his longer poems, except perhaps the Corona Tragica; and though his lordship is not bound to a particular investigation of all his works, we cannot hold him excused for his total inattention to one of so much importance as this. His second marriage took place on his return to Madrid in 1590, and during the ten following years he enjoyed a high and unrivalled reputation. At the expiration of that term, the happiest of his life, he was assailed by fresh domestic calamities, the loss of his wife and children, and at the same time became obnoxious to a host of literary enemies. Inconsolable for the former of those evils, he for some time retired from the world, and in 1609 became a Franciscan, though not of the regular order. Sir Francis Drake, But his spirit was not broken by the various attacks that were made on his reputation as a writer, though directed by captains so powerful as Gongora and Cervantes. The first of these is now hardly known even in his own country; yet he became the most formidable of Lope's opponents by his station as founder of a sect in literature, the influence of which it was beyond the talents even of Lope to resist, The peculiar tenets of this sect appear to have consisted in the extremes of vicious affectation and obscurity in poetry, and notwithstanding i absurdity, the accession of some leading members, and the whim of fashion established it in full sovereignty over at least one half of Madrid. The opposition of Cervantes was certainly founded on other principles, which Lord H. has not been able to discover. Indeed, all the particulars of both the disputes are much too slightly passed over, affording, as they must do, ample materials for an interesting history of the state of literature in general, as well as of the most important part of Lope's career. Fortune continued to favour him to the latest hour of his life, and he is one out of the very few instances we have of men acquiring riches and fame in equal abundance by the simple and unassisted trade of authorship. But his pride and discontent seem to have kept pace with his good luck. We have an instance of his vanity in the emblem prefixed to, what Lord H. with unusual inaccuracy calls, his book, (what book or which of his works does hejmean?). It represented a beetle expiring over some flowers which he is on the point of attacking,' and this distich was subjoined : · Audax dum Vega irrumpit scarabæus in hortos, which his lordship renders, elegantly enough for the occa sion, At Vega's garden as the beetle flies, O'erpower'd with sweets, the daring insect dies.' His discontent was manifested in his complaints of negJect and poverty, which of all men in the world he certainly had the least right to utter. Hedied on the 26th of August, 1635, the same day (as Pellicer remarks) with Shakspeare. This fact may make a comparison between them still more curious; but lord Holland, previous to entering on his dramas, concludes his observations on the remainder of his miscellaneous works, We need not follow him through this detail, in which, how ever, the reader may find a good deal of interest, though he must at the same time regret that on a subject so perfectly new to most Englishmen, his lordship has communicated such scanty information. The Corona Tragica' appears to be the most pleasing of these compositions, if we may judge from the extract given. The author dedicated it to pope Urban VIII. and the consequences of this lucky hit are described with spirit, and at the same tine discover how ill-founded were his ungrateful reflections on the illiberality of the times. 6 Upon this occasion he received from that pontiffa letter written in his own hand, and the degree of doctor of theology. Such a flattering tribute of admiration sanctioned the reverence in which his name was held in Spain, and spread his fame through every catholic country. The cardinal Barberini followed him with veneration in the streets; the king would stop to gaze at such a prodigy; the people crowded round him wherever he appeared; the learned and the studious thronged to Madrid from every part of Spain to see this phoenix of their country, this monster of literature;' and even Italians, no extravagant admirers in general of poetry that is not their own, made pilgrimages from their country for the sole purpose of convers ing with Lope. So associated was the idea of excellence with his name, that it grew in common conversation to signify any thing perfect in its kind; and a Lope diamond, a Lope day, or a Lope woman, became fashionable and familiar modes of expressing their good qualities. His poetry was as advantageous to his fortune as to his fame; the king enriched him with pensions and chaplaincies; the pope honoured him with dignities and preferments; and every nobleman at court aspired to the character of his Mæcenas, by conferring upon him frequent and valuable presents. His annual income was not less than 1500 ducats, exclusive of the price of his plays, which Cervantes insinuates that he was never inclined to forego, and Montalvan estimates at 80,000. He received in presents from individuals as much as 10,500 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, immense as they were, and rendered his life unprofitable to his friends and uncomfortable to himself.' With regard to the extraordinary fecundity of his genius, we are told that he seldom passed a year without giving some poem to the press, and scarcely a month or even a week without producing some play upon the stage.' 'Twenty-one million three hundred thousand of his lines are said to be actually printed; and no less than 1800 of his plays to have been acted. Yet he asserts in one of his last poems, (and in a very poetical manne.) that * Montalvan, Parnaso Español, &c. The printed part (tho' far too large) is less Than that which yet unprinted waits the press.' We now come to his lordship's examination of Lope as a dramatic writer, which naturally introduces some account of the Spanish stage before and since his time; and upon this estimate it is difficult to state what are his claims to the pre-eminence with which he has been honoured. In his Arte de hacer Comedias,' a didactic poem from which our best information in these respects must be derived, he speaks of the monstrous union of tragedy and farce, of the contempt, nay, of the total ignorance, of rule, as irregularities which marked the Spanish stage, but which he was so far from desiring to correct,that he glories in them as marks of a free and unshackled taste, and even commends the audience 'Who, seated once, disdain to go away Unless in two short hours they see the play Brought from creation down to judgment-day." If by words he approved, by his writings he certainly contributed to support and perpetuate, this daring spirit. Like Shakspeare, he always sets the unities at defiance, but, unlike him, seldom or never redeems his eccentricities by strokes of nature or touches of genuine humour. Voltaire says, very justly, that, though worthy to command the national taste, he was enslaved by it. Neither he, nor any dramatic writer of his time in Spain, appear to have attended to, or even understood, the common distinction of tragedy and comedy.* We certainly therefore should not judge of them by the strict rules which other European nations have adopted with regard to them. In no one species of composition are the peculiarities of national tastes so discernible as in the dramatic; and in none is one nation more apt to assume the censorial frown or the sneer of ridicule against another. But while we recollect the low invec tives into which Voltaire was betrayed by this very spirit in his criticisms on Shakspeare, we should adapt the lesson to our own case, and, not pretending to form an estimate of Lope's real merit, merely remark the principal points of distinction between his plays and those which we consider as standards for ourselves. Lord H. well observes that The following verses, extravagant in any other language, in Spanish are magnificent: * Lord Holland notices the national distinction that obtained between the heroic comedy, and the commedias de Capa y Espada, a distinction very dif ferent from any known to ourselves. ; Ten secreto á las cosas que me cuentas 'Be silent then, while I the mode devise, And lift its foamy mountains to the skies; But the wise prince is like the river stream, And where most deep should there most tranquil secm.' This very magnificence may, to a Spanish hearer, be more delightful than, to us, the finest delineation of character or natural description. Who is to decide between us? At the same time we must condemn the ignorance as well as false judgment of Voltaire when he resembles Lope to Shakspeare, between whom we can discover no traces of affinity but those which are common to all writers in an age not yet arrived at the maturity of cultivation. In order to afford us a clearer conception of Lope's manner, Lord H. has, very judiciously, taken the trouble to analyze a play which he conceives to be one of the best among the voluminous remains of his works. It is entitled' La Estrella de Sevilla,' and the plot is shortly this. The king of Castile is struck with admiration at the charms of the beautiful Estrella, and confers on her brother Don Bustos Tabera a place of honour, in order to facilitate his designs upon the sister. Don Bustos, however, proves superior to the arts of a pander, and surprises his sovereign in the act of stealing into her apartment disguised, under the auspices of a treacherous waiting-maid. This discovery inflames the, disappointed prince with the most vehement desire of revenge, and he finds an instrument in the person of Sancho Ortiz, the Cid of Andalusia, who (like all Lope's heroes) considers no crime as equal to that of disobeying the king's command, The merit of his compliance is exalted almost to a miracle, when we take into the account that he was himself devotedly in love with Estrella, and on the point of being mar ried to her. The murder of Bustos takes place in the second act; and from that period all interest ceases, the remainder |