New-York tribune., 1906-04-02
MOLIERE IN HIS GLORY.
an amazing Exhibition of Prodigal
InUention, Wit and Courage.
From The London Times.

From The London Times
In the Louvre, in the old Sale des Gardes, on
October "a 1858. in the great presence of Louis
XIV himself before the court and before the
assembled troupe of his bitterest rivals the ac-
tors of the accredited Hotel de Bourgoyne,
Molere gave representation which won for
him at once all the privileges of the Partisan
stage. and established that company OF actors,
known as the Troupe de Monsieur" which was
the origin and beginning of the present Theatre
trancals. The public was even more swept OF
its feet by enthusiasm than the court There is
story that after the first performance of Les
Precieuses Fddicules," in 1859, an old man.
stranger, started up in the parterre and called
out, Courage, Noliere this is the real comedy!
After this. Il have done with Plautus and Ter
ence 1 have done with refurbishng the frag-
ments Of Menander. The world is mine now;
and for my own study Moliere is reported 10
have said. And indeed it whole shining
world of wit and keenest observation Of which
he now largely took possession
Masterpieces now succeeded one another, trip
ping, as il were. over one another's heels-hur-
rying, crowding, triumphant-surely the most
amazing the most incredible exhibition ever
given OF prodigal invention ana daring ana VII
and sincerity and courage. A high, indomitaole
courage lies at the bottom Of every one Of Mo-
Heres hastiest writings. AS Thackeray says
somewhere Of a lesser man, 'he came in that
artificial age and began to speak in his noble.
natural voice And he knew we'll what he was
doing. If the King favored him, daZZled, as
who would not have been, by the reckless gen
erosity and splendor of the mans genius all the
clergy, all the crushing pon1p and circumstance
of tradition and prejudice ana authority were
/ Rrrayed from the very first against him. They
spared neither his art his private reputation.
When, in 1862, at the age of forty, he married
the seventeen-year-old Ar1nande Bejart there
was no limit to the scandal and vile calumnies
set about concerning his marriage. II was
doomed and miserable marriage from the start
/ Armande was not a nice. respectable young per-
son hut 2 living woman noted for her beauty;
cold. COquette. an actress Ingram utterly shall
! low and utterly heartless. The difference be-
! tween their respective ages bordered upon an
outrage on nature at a time when men habitu-
/ ally married before twenty; and Moliere was 10
/ learn by his own experience every agony or
jealousy and ba1fled and indignant love and dis
! credit and despair. Mile Monere, as MS WIG
was called in the curious targon OF the day, was
/ either illegitimate daughter or a younger
/ sister Of Madeleine Bejart Moliere old, 1alth-
/ full comrade and mistress. 1t is an ugly story at
the best but It is only fair to say that all modern
| research seems TO point to the fact that Ar
/ mande was undoubtedly Madeleine's sister. At
! all events the King thought so. and offered him
self as godfather to his favorite actor first born
| child The other best known anecdote Of Louis
/ NIV's generosity 70 the greatest man OF nus
! time relates how the King. wishing TO rebuke
! the arrogance of his courtiers, invited NJ. de
/ Moliere to supper and cut for the actor with ms
| royal hand a piece of the cold royal chicken. 1t
! is not difficult to imagine the scene-the circle
| OF respectful amazed and gIttering couruers,
! the complacent King Cwhose smallest action
shook blessed his world, and the pale, silent,
| observing master Of the comic genius-he. with
| the steady brown eyes the mOnstrous wig, the
! large. expressive flexible mouth. for whom. for
| his habits Of mute irOnical abstraction, NJ.
| Boileau had long since invented the nickname or
! The Contemplation"
! Louis XIV, then, not only gratifed NJ de
Mohere with portion Of his own sacred chicken
I-( Here am l occupied in feeding NJ de MoIlere'
whom my own officers do not consider fit COM
panv for themselves, are the exact words spoken
by the royal and gracious lips)-but after a
struggle with the Clerical party which lasted for
| upward of five years, he gave permission Tor
tTa r,Ih1ic performance of "Tartuffe'-incontest-
ably Moliere's masterpiece This was in 1869,
and II marks the apogee. the eliminating
/ moment of MolieTe's genius. In spite of all at
tacks and jeaousies. and rivalry his reputa-
tion as an artist was by this time established as
/ on rock. He in the full, the conscious
! possession Of the most extraordinary gifts and
powers His intimate friends were the first men
/ Of talent and character of his day. Chapele,
NIignard the painter; La FOntaine. Boileau, Jean
Racine, and CyranO were but a few among his
. chosen companions. And. judged by the stand
ard of his period, he was already man or
considerable and increasing wealth He was also
I a man of incurable a silent melancholy
Sainte- Beuve would have us believe that AT this
! time Moere was suffering from a mute. deep
/ seated resentment at the atmosphere Of court
patronage 10 which he was condemned a con
slant enforced complaisance to natures smaller
| than his own, q thousand times his interiors in
| q hundred thousand ways which he had to ac-
cept and propitiate and bow before. II is certain
that some of the words he is reported TO have
spoken cut like swords and have echo as of
concealed wounds about them. How a man
must suffer before ne dies!" he said TO his wife
! in presence of the young and handsome Baron.
But fortunately genius, which is another name
for life, may encounter despair but can never
end in complete detection
! In the very hour of his death Moliere's spirit
| could rise above every circumstance, serenely
! majestic and magnanimous and unconquerabIe-
! N Friday. February Il, 1913, MOliere was al
ready so iii that his friends came and urged him
not to take part in that second performance or
| "I,e Malade Inaginaire" which was to be given
I'm the afternoon. Il have fifty poor men de-
pending upon me for their daily bread this day.
was MoIiere's answer and he took his place on
the boards soldier volunteers for certain
death in battle. AS the play progressed his state
! of health became more urgently alarming In
the farcical ballet that ends the piece Moliere
| was taken with fit of deadly choking but con-
trived to IL into fit of laughter sufficiently
| natural to deceive at least his audience. When
the curtain fell at last, Did the play go well? +?
| How did the play go? What does my public
| think Of it?" he asked of Baron. 1t almost
| his last question on earth. He died at 10 o'clock
| that same night He just ffty-one years
| Of age. AS the news of his death was
| spread through Paris the entire Clerical party
| were in arms. His own parish priest was IN
! structed 10 refuse the dead actor any form or
| sepulchre Three days after his death his widow
| had forced her way to the King. But Louis XIV
| genius He refused brutally 10 take any steps In
| the matter. and sent the widow and the friends
| away Afterward il IS said he relented sufh-
ciently to order the Archbishop of Paris TO con-
cede lln peu de terre. That was the final gift of
French ROYALTY 10 the greatest writer of France.
| Moliere was buried without any rites or bless
ings Of the Church, at night hurriedly, and by
! f0rchlight Armande is said 10 have thrown a
thousand francs in silver from her windows 10
the populace in order to insure a quiet passage
| OF the coffin to its obscure grave. We seem 10
see the little procession write or 1.-THE
dead man; the friends pale, faithful faces the
timorous flickering Of the funeral lights winding
! and tWinkling through the dark, intricate oid
! Paris streets-and look across the Iaps,'
of years. To- those torches seem 10 shlne ana
| shine and brighten They shine and pecAon To
1 US. through the mists of history. Ike SURE