SCARRON, Paul, a famous burlesque writer, was the son of a counsellor in parliament, and born at Paris about the end of the year 1610, or in the beginning of the succeeding year. His father having married a second time, he was compelled to assume the ecclesiastical profession. At the age of twenty-four he visited Italy, where he freely indulged in licentious pleasures. After his return to Paris, he persisted in a life of dissipation, till a long and painful disease convinced him that his constitution was almost worn out. At length, when engaged in a party of pleasure at the age of twenty-seven, he lost “the use of those legs which danced so gracefully, and of those hands which could paint and play on the lute with so much elegance.” In the year 1638 he was attending the carnival at Mons, of which he was a canon. Having dressed himself one day as a savage, his singular appearance excited the curiosity of the children of the town. They followed him in multitudes, and he was obliged to take shelter in a marsh. This wet and cold situation produced a numbness which totally deprived him of the use of his limbs; but notwithstanding this misfortune he continued gay and cheerful. He took up his residence at Paris, and by his pleasant humour soon attracted to his house all the men of wit about the city. The loss of his health was followed by the loss of his fortune. On the death of his father he entered into a process with his mother-in-law. He pleaded the cause in a ludicrous manner, though his whole fortune depended on the decision, and accordingly lost the cause. Mademoiselle de Hautefort, compassionating his misfortunes, procured for him an audience of the queen. The poet requested to have the title of valetudinarian to her majesty. The queen smiled, and Scarron considered the smile as the commission to his new office. He therefore assumed the title of “Scarron, by the grace of God unworthy valetudinarian to the queen.”

Cardinal Mazarin gave him a pension of five hundred crowns; but that minister having received disdainfully the dedication of his Typhon, the poet immediately wrote a Mazarinade, and the pension was withdrawn. He then attached himself to the Prince of Conde, and celebrated his victories. He at length formed the extraordinary resolution of marrying, and was accordingly, in 1651, married to Mademoiselle d’Aubigné, afterwards Madame de Maintenon, who was then only sixteen years of age. “At that time,” says Voltaire, “it was considered as a great acquisition for her to gain for a husband a man who was disfigured by nature, impotent, and very little enriched by fortune." When Scarron was questioned about the contract of marriage, he said he acknowledged to the bride two large invincible eyes, a very beautiful shape, two fine hands, and a large portion of wit. The notary demanded what dowry he would give her. Scarron immediately replied, “The names of the wives of kings die with them, but the name of Scarron’s wife shall live for ever.” She restrained by her modesty his indecent buffooneries, and the good company which had formerly resorted to his house were not less frequent in their visits. Scarron now became a new man. He grew more decent in his manners and conversation; and his gaiety, when tempered with moderation, was still more agreeable. But, in the mean time, he lived with so little economy, that his income was soon reduced to a small annuity and his marquisate of Quinet. By the marquisate of Quinet, he meant the revenue he derived from his publications, which were printed by one Quinet. He was accustomed to talk to his superiors with great freedom in his jocular style. In the dedication to his Don Japhet d’Armenie, he thus addresses the king: “I shall endeavour to persuade your majesty that you would do yourself no injury were you to do me a small favour; for in that case I should become more gay. If I should become more gay,

I should write sprightly comedies; and if I should write[7:19:676] sprightly comedies, your majesty would be amused, and thus your money would not be lost. All this appears so evident, that I should certainly be convinced of it if I wore as great a king as I am now a poor unfortunate man.”

Although Scarron wrote comedies, he had neither time nor patience to study the rules and models of dramatic poetry. Aristotle and Horace, Plautus and Terence, would have frightened him; and perhaps he did not know that there was ever such a person as Aristophanes. He saw an open path before him, and he followed it. It was the fashion of the times to pillage the Spanish writers. Scarron was acquainted with that language, and he found it easier to use the materials which were already prepared, than to rack his brain in inventing a subject; a restraint to which a genius like his could not easily submit. As he borrowed liberally from the Spanish writers, a dramatic piece did not cost him much labour. His labour consisted not in making his comic characters talk humorously, but in keeping up serious characters; for the serious was a foreign language to him. The great success of his Jodelet Maître was a vast allurement to him. The comedians who acted it eagerly requested more of his productions. They were written without much toil, and they procured him large sums. They served to amuse him. When the office of historiographer became vacant, he solicited for it without success. At length Fouquet gave him a pension of sixteen hundred livres. Christina queen of Sweden having come to Paris, was anxious to see Scarron. “I permit you,” said she to Scarron, “to fall in love with me. The queen of France has made you her valetudinarian, and I create you my Roland.” But Scarron did not long enjoy that title. He was seized with so violent a hiccough, that every person thought he would have expired. “If I recover,” he said, “I will make a fine satire on the hiccough.” His gaiety did not forsake him to the last. Within a few minutes of his death, when his domestics were shedding tears about him, “My goods friends,” said he, “I shall never make you weep so much for me as I have made you laugh.” Just before expiring, he said, “ I could never believe before that it is so easy to laugh at death.” He died on the l4th of October 1660, in the fifty-first year of his age.

His works have been collected and published by Bruzen de la Martiniere, in ten volumes 12mo, 1737. There are, 1. The AEneid travestied, in eight books. It was afterwards continued by Moreau de Brasey. 2. Typhon, or the Gigantomachia. 3. Many comedies, as Jodelet, or the Master Valet, Jodelet Cuffed, Don Japhet d’Armenie, the Ridiculous Heir, Every Man his own Guardian, the Foolish Marquis, the Scholar of Salamanca, the False Appearance, and the Prince Corsaire, a tragi-comedy. Besides these, he wrote other pieces in verse. 4. His Comic Romance, in prose, which is the only one of his works that deserves attention. It is written with much purity and gaiety, and has contributed not a little to the improvement of the French language. Scarron had great pleasure in reading his works to his friends as he composed them, which he called trying his works. Segrais and another of his friends coming to him one day, “Take a chair,” said Scarron to them, “and sit down, that I may examine my Comic Romance.” When he observed the company laugh, “Very well,” said he, “my book will be well received, since it makes persons of such delicate taste laugh.” Nor was he deceived. His romance had a prodigious run. It was the only one of his works that Boileau could submit to read. 5. Spanish novels translated into French. 6. A volume of Letters. 7. Poems, consisting of songs, epistles, stanzas, odes, and epigrams. The whole collection abounds with sprightliness and gaiety.