Part 10

Molière was of respectable parentage. For several generations his family had been traders in Paris, and were so well esteemed, that various members had held the places of _judge and consul_ in the city of Paris; situations of sufficient importance, on some occasions, to cause those who filled them to be raised to the rank of nobles. His father, Jean Poquelin, was appointed tapestry or carpet-furnisher to the king: his mother, Marie Cressé[31], belonged to a family similarly situated; her father, also, was a manufacturer of carpets and tapestry. Jean Baptiste Poquelin (such was Molière's real name) was horn on the 15th January, 1622, in a house in Rue Saint Honoré, near the Rue de la Tonnellerie. He was the eldest of a numerous family of children, and destined to succeed his father in trade. The latter being afterwards appointed _valet de chambre_ to the king, and the survivorship of the place being obtained for his son, his prospects in life were sufficiently prosperous. His mother died when he was only ten years of age, and thus a family of orphans were left on his father's hands.

Brought up to trade, Poquelin's education during childhood was restricted to reading and writing; and his boyish days were passed in the warehouse of his father. His heart, however, was set on other things. His paternal grandfather was very fond of play-going, and often took his grandson to the theatre of the Hôtel de Bourgogne, where Corneille's plays were being acted. From this old man the youth probably inherited his taste for the drama, and he owed it to him that his genius took so early the right bent. To him he was indebted for another great obligation. The boy's father reproached the grandfather for taking him so often to the play. "Do you wish to make an actor of him?" he exclaimed. "Yes, if it pleased God that he became as good a one as Bellerose[32]," the other replied. The prejudices of the age were violent against actors. We almost all take our peculiar prejudices from our parents, whom, in our nonage (unless, through unfortunate circumstances, they lose our respect), we naturally regard as the sources of truth. To this speech, to the admiration which the elder Poquelin felt for actors and acting, no doubt the boy owed his early and lasting emancipation from those puerile or worse prejudices against the theatre, which proved quicksands to swallow up the genius of Racine.

[Sidenote: 1637. Ætat. 14.]

The youth grew discontented as he grew older. The drama enlightened him as to the necessity of acquiring knowledge, and to the beauty of intellectual refinement: he became melancholy, and, questioned by his father, admitted his distaste for trade, and his earnest desire to receive a liberal education. Poquelin thought that his son's ruin must inevitably ensue: the grandfather was again the boy's ally; he gained his point, and was sent as an out-student to the college of Clermont, afterwards of Louis-le-Grand, which was under the direction of the jesuits, and one of the best in Paris. Amand de Bourbon, prince of Conti, brother of the grand Condé, was going through the classes at the same time. After passing through the ordinary routine at this school, the young Poquelin enjoyed a greater advantage than that of being a schoolfellow of a prince of the blood. L'Huilier, a man of large fortune, had a natural son, named Chapelle, whom he brought up with great care. Earnest for his welfare and good education, he engaged the celebrated Gassendi to be Iris private tutor, and placed another boy of promise, named Bernier, whose parents were poor, to study with him. There is something more helpful, more truly friendly and liberal, often in French men of letters than in ours; and it is one of the best traits in our neighbours' character. Gassendi perceived Poquelin's superior talents, and associated him in the lessons he gave to Chapelle and Bernier. He taught them the philosophy of Epicurus; he enlightened their minds by lessons of morals; and Molière derived from him those just and honourable principles from which he never deviated in after life.

Another pupil almost, as it were, forced himself into this little circle of students. Cyrano de Bergerac was a youth of great talents, but of a wild and turbulent disposition, and had been dismissed from the college of Beauvais for putting the master into a farce. He was a Gascon--lively, insinuating, and ambitious. Gassendi could not resist his efforts to get admitted as his pupil; and his quickness and excellent memory rendered him an apt scholar. Chapelle himself, the friend afterwards of Boileau and of all the literati of Paris, a writer of songs, full of grace, sprightliness, and ease, displayed talent, but at the same time gave tokens of that heedless, gay, and unstable character that followed him through life, and occasioned his father, instead of making him his heir as he intended, to leave him merely a slight annuity, over which he had no control. Bernier became afterwards a great eastern traveller.

[Sidenote: 1641. Ætat. 19.]

Immediately on leaving college Poquelin entered on his service of royal _valet de chambre_. Louis XIII. made a journey to Narbonne; and he attended instead of his father.[33] This journey is only remarkable from the public events that were then taking place. Louis XIII. and cardinal de Richelieu had marched into Rousillon to complete the conquest of that province from the house of Austria--both monarch and minister were dying. The latter discovered the conspiracy of Cinq-Mars, the unfortunate favourite of the king, and had seized on him and his innocent friend De Thou--they were condemned to death; and conveyed from Tarrascon to Lyons in a boat, which was towed by the cardinal's barge in advance. Terror at the name of the cardinal, contempt for the king, and anxiety to watch the wasting illnesses of both, occupied the court: the passions of men were excited to their height; and the young and ardent youth, fresh from the schools of philosophy, witnessed a living drama, more highly wrought than any that a mimic stage could represent.

The cardinal had a magnificent spirit; he revived the arts, or rather nursed their birth in France. It has been mentioned in the life of Corneille, that he patronised the theatre; and even wrote pieces for it. The tragedy of the "Cid," while it electrified France, by what might be deemed a revelation of genius, gave dignity as well as a new impulse to the drama. Acting became a fashion, a rage; private theatricals were the general amusement, and knots of young men formed themselves into companies of actors. [Sidenote: 1643. Ætat. 21.] Poquelin, having renounced his father's trade, and having received a liberal education, entered, it is believed, on the study of the law; having been sent to Orleans for that purpose. [Sidenote: 1645. Ætat. 23.] He returned to Paris, to commence his career of advocate; here he was led to associate with a few friends of the same rank, in getting up plays: by degrees he became wedded to the theatre; and when the private company resolved to become a public one, and to derive profit from their representations, he continued belong to it; and, according to the fashion of actors in those days assumed a new name--that of Molière. His father was displeased, and took every means to dissuade him from his new course; but the enthusiasm of Molière overcame all opposition. There is a story told, that one respectable friend, who was sent by his father to argue against the theatre, was seduced by the youth's arguments to adopt a taste for it, and led to turn comedian himself. His relations did not the less continue their opposition; they exiled him as it were from among them; and erased the most illustrious name in France for their genealogical tree. What would their tree be worth now did it not bear the name of Molière as its chief bloom, which more rare than the flower of the aloe, which blossoms once in a hundred years, has never had its match.

There were many admirable actors in Molière's time, chiefly however in comedy. There were the three, known in farce under the names of Gauthier Garguille, Turlupin, and Gros Guillaume, who in the end died tragically, through the effects of fear. Arlechino (Harlequin) and Scaramouche, both Italians, were however the favourites: the latter is said to have been Molière's master in the art of acting; and he never missed a representation at the Italian theatre when he could help it. The native comedy of the Italians gave him a taste for the true humour of comic situation and dialogue; and we owe to his well-founded predilection what we and the German cities (in contradistinction to the French, who judge always by rule and measure, and not by the amusement they receive, nor the genius displayed) prefer to his five act pieces. Nor was this the only source whence he derived instruction. The bustle and intrigue of the Spanish comedies had been introduced by Corneille in his translation of Lope de Vega's "Verdad Sospechosa." Corneille, however, made the character of the _Liar_, who is the hero, more prominent. Molière is said to have declared, that he owed his initiation into the true spirit of comedy from this play. He took the better part; rejecting the intrigue, disguises, and trap-doors, and discerning the great effect to be produced by a character happily and truly conceived, and then thrown into apposite situations.

There is much obscurity thrown over the earlier portion of Molière's life. We know the names of some of his company. There was Gros René, and his beautiful wife; there were the two Bejarts, brothers, whose excellent characters attached Molière to them, and Madeleine Bejart, their sister, a beautiful girl, the mistress of a gentleman of Modena--to whom Molière was also attached. Molière himself succeeded in the more farcical comic characters.

The disorders of the capital during the regency at the beginning of Louis XIV.'s reign, and the war of the Fronde, replunged France in barbarism; and torn by faction, the citizens of Paris had no leisure for the theatre. [Sidenote: 1646. Ætat. 24.] Molière and his troop quitted the city for the provinces, and among other places visited Bordeaux, where he was powerfully protected by the duc d'Epernon, governor of Guienne. It is said, that Molière wrote and brought out a tragedy, called "The Thebaid," in this town, which succeeded so ill, that he gave up the idea of composing tragic dramas, though his chief ambition was to succeed in that higher walk of his art. When we consider the impassioned and reflective disposition of Molière, we are not surprised at his desire to succeed in impersonating the nobler passions; we wonder rather how it was that he should have wholly failed in delineating such, while his greatest power resided in the talent for seizing and portraying the ridiculous.

After a tour in the provinces he returned to Paris. His former schoolfellow, the prince of Conti, renewed his acquaintance with him; and caused him and his company to bring out plays in his palace: and when this prince went to preside at the states of Languedoc, he invited them to visit him there.

[Sidenote: 1653. Ætat. 31.]

Finding Paris still too distracted by civil broils to encourage the theatre, Molière and his company left it for Lyons. Here he brought out his first piece, "L'Etourdi," which met with great and deserved success. We have an English translation, under the name of "Sir Martin Marplot," originally written by the celebrated duke of Newcastle, and adapted for the stage by Dryden; the French play, however, is greatly superior. In that the lover, _Lelie_, is only a giddy coxcomb, full of conceit and gaiety of heart. _Sir Martin_ is a heavy plodding fool; and the mistakes we sympathise with, even while we laugh, when originating in mere youthful levity, excite our contempt when occasioned by dull obesity. Thus in the English play, the master appears too stupid to deserve his lady at last--and she is transferred to the servant; a catastrophe which must shock our manners; and we are far more ready to rejoice in the original, when the valet at last presents _Celie_, with her father's consent, to his master, asking him whether he could find a way even then to destroy his hopes.

The "Dépit Amoureux" followed, which is highly amusing. Although Molière improved afterwards, these first essays are nevertheless worthy his genius.

The company to which he belonged possessed great merit, both in public and private. We cannot expect to find strictness of moral conduct in French comedians, in an age when the manners of the whole country was corrupt, and civil war loosened still more the bonds of society, and produced a state characterised as being "a singular mixture of libertinism and sedition, rife with wars at once sanguinary and frivolous; when the magistrates girded on the sword, and bishops assumed a uniform; when the heroines of the court followed at once the camp and church processions, and factious wits made impromptus on rebellion, and composed madrigals on the field of battle." The war of the Fronde produced a state of license and intrigue: and of course it must be expected that such should be found in a company of strolling actors; to detail the loves of Molière at this time would excite little interest, except inasmuch as it would seem that he brought an affectionate heart and generous spirit, to ennoble what in a less elevated character would have been mere intrigue. Madeleine Bejart was a woman of talent as well as beauty; her brothers were men of good principles and conduct. The sort of liberal, friendly, and frank-hearted spirit that characterised the circle of friends, is well described in the autobiography of a singular specimen of the manners of those times. D'Assouçy was a sort of troubadour; a good musician, and an agreeable poet, who travelled from town to town, lute in hand, and followed by two pages, who took parts in his songs; gaining his bread, and squandering what he gained without forethought. At Lyons, he fell in with Molière, and the brothers Bejart. He continues: "The stage has charms, and I could not easily quit these delightful friends. I remained three months at Lyons, amidst plays and feasts, though I had better not have staid three days, for I met with various disasters in the midst of my amusements (he was stripped of all his money in a gambling-house.) Having heard that I should find a soprano voice at Avignon, whom I could engage to join me, I embarked on the Rhone with Molière, and arrived at Avignon with forty pistoles in my pocket, the relics of my wreck." He then goes on to state how he was stripped of this sum among gamblers and jews; and adds, "But a man is never poor while he has friends; and having Molière and all the family of Bejart as allies, I found myself, despite fortune and jews, richer and happier than ever; for these generous people were not satisfied by assisting me as friends, they treated me as a relation. When they were invited to the States, I accompanied them to Pezenas, and I cannot tell the kindness I received from all. They say that the fondest brother tires of a brother in a month; but these, more generous than all the brothers in the world, invited me to their table during the whole winter; and, though I was really their guest, I felt myself at home. I never saw so much kindness, frankness, or goodness, as among these people, worthy of being the princes whom they personated on the stage."

At Pezenas, to which place they were invited by the prince of Conti, Molière's company found a warm welcome and generous pay from the prince himself. Molière got up, for the prince's amusement, not only the two regular plays which he had written, but other farcical interludes, which became afterwards the groundwork of his best comedies. Among these were the "Le Docteur Pedant;[34]" "Gorgibus dans le Sac" (the forerunner of "La Fourberies de Scapin"); "Le grand Benet de Fils," who afterwards flourished as "Le Médecin malgré Lui;" "Le grand Benet de fils," who appears to have blossomed hereafter into _Thomas Diafoirus_, in the "Malade Imaginaire." There were also "Le Docteur Amoureux," "Le Maître d'École," and "La Jalousie de Barbouillé." All these farces perished. Boileau, notwithstanding his love for classical correctness, lamented their loss; as he said, there was always something spirited and animating in the slightest of Molière's works.

These theatrical amusements delighted the prince of Conti; and their author became such a favourite, that he offered him the place of his secretary, which Molière declined. We are told that the prince, with all his kindness of intention, was of such a tyrannical temper, that his late secretary had died in consequence of ill treatment, having been knocked down by the prince with the fire-tongs, and killed by the blow. We do not wonder, therefore, at Molière's refusing the glittering bait. And in addition to the independence of his spirit, he loved his art, and no doubt felt the workings of that genius which hereafter gave such splendid tokens of its existence, and which is ever obnoxious to the trammels of servitude.

He continued for some time in Languedoc and Provence, and formed a friendship at Avignon with Mignard, which lasted to the end of their lives, and to which we owe the spirited portrait of Molière, which represents to the life the eager, impassioned, earnest and honest physiognomy of this great man. As Paris became tranquil Molière turned his eyes thitherward, desirous of establishing his company in the metropolis. He went first to Grenoble and then to Rouen, where, after some negotiation and delay, and several journeys to Paris, he obtained the protection of monsieur, the king's brother; was presented by him to the king and queen-mother, and finally obtained permission to establish himself in the capital.

The rival theatre was at the Hôtel de Bourgogne; here Corneille's tragedies were represented by the best tragic actors of the time.[34] The first appearance of Molière's company before Louis XIV. and his mother, Anne of Austria, took place at the Louvre. "Nicomede" was the play selected; success attended the attempt, and the actresses in particular met with great applause. Yet even then Molière felt that his company could not compete with its rival in tragedy: when the curtain fell, therefore, he stepped forward, and, after thanking the audience for their kind reception, asked the king's leave to represent a little divertisement which had acquired a reputation in the provinces: the king assented; and the performers went on, to act "Le Docteur Amoureux" one those farces, several of which he had brought out in Languedoc, conceived in the Italian taste, full of buffoonery and bustle. The king was amused, and the piece succeeded; and hence arose the fashion of adding a short farce after a long serious play. The success also secured the establishment of his company; they acted at first at the Theatre du Petit Bourbon, and afterwards, when that theatre was taken down to give place to the new building of the colonnade of the Louvre, the king gave him that of the Palais Royal, and his company assumed the name of Comédiens de Monsieur.

Parisian society opened a new field for Molière's talents; subjects for ridicule multiplied around him. The follies which appeared most ludicrous were so nursed and fostered by the high-born and wealthy, that he almost feared to attack them. But they were too tempting. In addition to the amusement to be derived from exhibiting in its true colours an affectation the most laughable, he was urged by the hope of vanquishing by the arms of wit, a system of folly, which had taken deep root even with some of the cleverest men in France;--we allude to the _coterie_ of the Hôtel de Rambouillet; and to the farce of the "Précieuses Ridicules," which entered the very sanctum, and caused irremediable disorder and flight to all the darling follies of the clique.

The society of the Hôtel de Rambouillet had a language and conduct all its own; these were embodied in the endless novels of mademoiselle Scuderi. Gallantry and love were the watchwords, and metaphysical disquisitions were the labours of the set. But these were not allowed to subsist in homely phrase or a natural manner. The euphuism of our Elizabethian coxcombs was tame and tropeless in comparison with the high flights of the heroes and heroines of the Hôtel de Rambouillet. All was done by rule; all adapted to a system. The lover had a regular map laid out, and he entered on his amorous journey, knowing exactly the stoppages he must make, and the course he must pass through on his way to the city of Tenderness, towards which he was bound. There was the village of _Billets galans_; the hamlet of _Billets doux_; the castle of _Petits Soins_; and the villa of _Jolis Vers_. After possessing himself of these, he still had to fear being forced to embark on the sea of Dislike, or the lake of Indifference; but if, on the contrary, he pushed off on the river of Inclination, he floated happily down to his bourne. Their language was a jargon, which, as Sir Walter Scott observes, in his "Essay on Molière," resembled a highlander's horse, hard to catch, and not worth catching. They gave enigmatic names to the commonest things, which to call by their proper appellations, was, as Molière terms it, du dernier bourgeois. When an "innocent accomplice of a falsehood" was mentioned, a _Précieuse_ (they themselves adopted and gloried in this name; Molière only added ridicules, to turn the blow a little aside from the centre of the target at which he aimed) could, without a blush, understand that a night-cap was the subject of conversation; water with them was too vulgar unless dignified as celestial humidity; a thief could be mentioned when designated as an inconvenient hero; and a lover won his mistress's applause when he complained of her disdainful smile, as "a sauce of pride."

Purity of feeling however was the soul of the system. Authors and poets were admitted as admirers, but they never got beyond the villa of _Jolis Vers_. When Voiture, who had glorified Julie d'Angennes his life-long, ventured to kiss her hand, he was thrown from the fortifications of the castle of _Petit Soins_, and soused into the lake of Indifference: even her noble admirer, the duke Montauzier, was forced to paddle on the river of Inclination, for fourteen years[35], before he was admitted to the city of Tenderness, and allowed to make her his wife. Their style of life was as eccentric as their talk. The lady rose in the morning, dressed herself with elegance, and then went to bed. The French bed, placed in an alcove, had a passage round it, called the _ruelle_; to be at the top of the _ruelle_ was the post of honour; and Voiture, under the title of _Alcovist_, long held this envied post, beside the pillow of his adored Julie, while he never was allowed to touch her little finger. The folly had its accompanying good. The respect which the women exacted, and the virtue they preserved, exalted them, and in spite of their high-flown sentiments, and metaphysical conceits, wits did not disdain to "put a soul into the body of" nonsense. Rochefoucauld, Menage, madame de Sévigné, madame Des Houillères, Balzac, Vaugelas, and others, frequented the Hôtel de Rambouillet, and lent the aid of their talents to dignify their _galimathias_.