talent. He will live in the memories
of married men for his famous speech,--

"Comment, Monsieur! Vous n'y etiez pas oblige."

It was in 1696, twelve years after his return to Paris, that Regnard
sent the "Joueur," a comedy in five acts, and in verse, to the Theatre
Francais. It was received with enthusiastic applause. Nothing equal to
it had appeared in twenty-four years since the death of the great
master; nor did the eighteenth century produce any comedy which can be
compared with it for action, wit, and literary finish,--not excepting
the "Turcaret" of Le Sage, and Beaumarchais's "Barber of Seville," which
are both better known to-day.

Regnard sat to himself for the portrait of Valere. The wild and
fascinating excitement of play, the gambler's exultation when he is
successful, his furious curses on his bad luck when he loses, his
superstitious veneration for his winnings, are drawn from the life. When
Fortune smiles, Valere neglects Angelique, his rich _fiancee_; when he
is penniless, his love revives, and he is at her feet until his valet
devises some new plan of raising money. He swears, if she will forgive
him, never again to touch dice or cards, and five minutes afterward
pledges for a thousand crowns a miniature set in diamonds she has just
given him to bind their reconciliation, and hurries back to the
gaming-table. He wins, but thinks his gains too sacred to pay away, even
to redeem the portrait of Angelique.

"Rien ne porte malheur comme de payer ses dettes,"

is his answer to the prudent Hector,--a maxim current among many who
never play. At last comes a reverse of fortune so sweeping that he
cannot conceal it. Angelique might have forgiven him his broken
promises, but the pawnbroker enters with her picture and demands the
thousand crowns. This is too much. She rejects him and gives her hand to
his rival. His indignant father casts him off forever. But no feeling of
regret or of repentance arises in the mind of the gambler. He turns
coolly upon his heel, and calls to his valet,--

"Va! va! consolons-nous, Hector,--et quelque jour
Le Jeu m'acquittera des pertes de l'amour."

Richard is the name of this prince of rascally and quick-witted valets;
but he calls himself Hector, after the knave of spades, because he
serves a gambler. He has good sense as well as ingenuity; for he gives
his master the best advice, while he strains his invention and his
impudence to help him on to destruct