The sorrows to which Lope alludes, we conjecture to have arisen from straitened means. He brought out a vast quantity of plays at this time, and received no scanty remuneration; still he was not risen to the zenith of his fame, when on every side he received donations and pensions. He was extravagant we know, and prodigality might easily produce a gap between his expenses and his chance receipts as an author. This view is strengthened by his dedication of his play "El Verdadero Amante," The True Lover, to his little son Carlos. This was not published till 1620, but must have been written long previous, as Carlos died before (how long, we know not) 1609, and is dedicated to him _while he was learning the rudiments of the Latin language._ He bids him follow his studies without impeding them with poetry, because he who had addicted himself to it was ill rewarded. He continues--"I possess only, as you know, a poor house, with table and establishment in proportion, and a small garden, whose flowers divert my cares and inspire me with ideas. I have written 900 plays, and twelve volumes on various subjects in prose and verse, so that the printed will never equal in quantity the unprinted; and I have acquired enemies, critics, quarrels, envy, reprehension, and cares; having lost precious time, and arrived nearly at old age without leaving you any thing but this useless advice." Notwithstanding this repining. Lord Holland is probably right in supposing that the years of Lope's second marriage were the happiest of his life, though, perhaps, he felt at the commencement some pecuniary embarrassments. Through life he was extravagant, and on first setting out as an author might easily be in debt; yet, as he rose in fame his fortunes mended, and affection and content enshrined the family circle. The period of his domestic happiness did not last long. At six years old, his little son died; his wife soon followed her child to the tomb, and Lope was left with two daughters.[95] From his own pen we give an account of his wedded happiness, and his grief when his home again became desolate. In the Eclogue to Claudio, he says:-- "I saw a group my board surround, And sure to me, though poorly spread, 'T was rich with such fair objects crowned-- Dear bitter presents of my bed! I saw them pay their tribute to the tomb, And scenes so cheerful change to mourning and to gloom." In addition to this affecting picture, he makes frequent mention of these circumstances in his epistles, and we subjoin extracts, which we are sure must interest the reader. One of these epistles is addressed to doctor Mathias de Porras, who had been appointed corregidor of the province of Canta in Peru. These epistles are in verse; but as their length is great, the abstract made from them might as well be in prose:--