rowing. The occasion
inspires him. He is still in Esquivias, wandering through the olive
groves and by the river side, sometimes resting, and drinking in the
fragrance from an orange-tree while his untold wealth of brain was
seeking for its exit. Sometimes he had Catalina for a companion, the
duena lingering slightly behind. Sometimes he saw her at the church like
a fair saint, kneeling; but oftener he wandered alone with his now happy
thoughts, scarce knowing that the night was closing about him, or scarce
heeding the watchman who cried, "All hail, Mary, mother of Jesus! half
past twelve o'clock and a cloudy morning!" and thus, to this day, are
the Spaniards warned of the hour and the weather. His "Galatea" remains
unfinished. He had not meant that all this song should be for the public
ear. The end was for his love alone!

On the 12th of December, 1584, he was married to Catalina. Not many
years ago, the marriage contract was found in the public registry of
Esquivias. It contains an inventory of the marriage-dowry promised by
the bride's mother, of "lands, furniture, utensils, and live-stock."
Then follows the details, "several vineyards, amounting to twelve acres,
beds, chairs, brooms, brushes, poultry, and sundry sacks of flour." It
is spoken of as a very respectable dowry at a time when sacks of wheat
were worth eight reals. Then follows, in the same document, his own
settlement upon his wife, which is stated to be one hundred ducats. By
the custom of the time that was one-tenth of his whole property, or to
quote again, which "must have amounted to a thousand ducats, which at
present would be equivalent to about four hundred and fifty pounds
sterling." Gladly would we find some pleasant items of happy home life,
though, for the next four years, he lived quietly at Esquivias, and
cared for the vineyards like any landholder, till, perhaps, he tired and
went on to Seville, where he took up some mercantile business, though
never entirely giving up the pen; but from 1598 till 1605, there are no
real traces of him, when it would appear that he had removed to
Valladolid.

There is little doubt but that he suffered both in purse and feeling
from want of appreciation; but the Spanish proverb says, "An author's
work who looks to money is the coat of a tailor who works late on the
vespers of Easter Sunday." He had too noble a mind to harbor so mean a
sentiment as jealousy, and was far in advance of his age. His
countrymen,