orced to surrender. His lively conquerors treated him with the honors
of wit as well as of war. They made a _mot_ for him, of the kind they
get up so cleverly in Paris. When the Turk is told how much it had cost
the great monarch of France to fit out the fleet which had just reduced
a part of his city to ashes, he exclaims, amazed at the useless
extravagance,--"For half the money I would have burned the whole town."

Cervantes was a slave in Algiers a hundred years before Regnard, and no
doubt used his experience in the story of the Captive in "Don Quixote."
Regnard also worked his African materials up into a tale,--"La
Provencale,"--and varnished them with the sentimentality fashionable in
his day. Zelmis (himself) is a conquering hero; women adore him. He is
full of courage, resources, and devotion to one only,--Elvire,--who is
beautiful as a dream, and dignified as the wife of a Roman Senator. The
King of Algiers is on the quay when the captives are brought ashore. He
falls in love with Elvire on the spot, and adds her to his collection.
But his passion is respectful and pure. Aided by Zelmis, she escapes
from the harem. They are retaken and brought back; but instead of the
whipping usually bestowed upon returned runaways, the generous king,
despairing of winning Elvire's affections, gives her her liberty. In the
mean time Zelmis has had his troubles. His master has four wives,
beautiful as houris. All four cast eyes of flame upon the well-favored
infidel. Faithful to Elvire, Zelmis of course defends himself as
heroically as Joseph. The ladies revenge the slight in the same way as
the wife of Potiphar. The attractive Frenchman is condemned to
impalement, when his consul interferes with a ransom, and he is released
just in time to embark for France with Elvire.

Although Regnard often alludes with pride to his travels, the sketch he
has left of them is meagre and uninteresting, and written in a harsh and
awkward style. Lapland was a _terra incognita_,--Poland, Hungary, and
Bohemia not much better known; yet this clever young Parisian has little
to relate beyond a few names, which he generally misspells or misplaces.
No descriptions of town or country or scenery; no traits of manners,
character, or customs, except a dull page on the sorcery and the funeral
ceremonies of the Lapps. The only eminent man he notices is Evelius, the
astronomer of Dantzic,--one of the foreign _savans_ of distinction on
whom Louis XIV. bestow