ion. Nerine, maid to Angelique,
declares open war against Valere, and vows that her mistress shall not
throw herself away upon a silly dandy, an insipid puppet, with nothing
to recommend him but his fine clothes and his swagger.

"True enough," laughs Hector, "but

"C'est le gout d'a present; tes cris sont superflus,
Mon enfant."

"And Valere is a spendthrift, an inveterate gambler, who will bring her
to misery and want."

"What of that?

"Tant que tu voudras, parle, preche, tempete,
Ta maitresse est coiffee,...
Elle est dans nos filets."

"And such an outrageous _roue_ that he cannot live in his father's
house."

"We do not deny it," Hector answers. "It is no fault of ours.

"Valere a deserte la maison paternelle,
Mais ce n'est point a lui qu'il faut faire querelle;
Et si Monsieur son pere avait voulu sortir,
Nous y serions encore;...
Ces peres, bien souvent, sont obstines en diable."

Nevertheless, the obdurate parent, in the hope of reforming his son, and
of providing for him by the excellent match with Angelique, hunts up the
prodigal and lectures him after the manner of fathers. Hector joins in,
and expresses strongly his disapprobation of games of chance; "_les jeux
innocents, ou l'esprit se deploie_," are the only safe pastime.

"But will our father pay our debts this time?"

"Not a crown."

"Will he lend us the money at one per cent a month? Once out of this
pecuniary strait, we can marry Angelique, and be rich and virtuous.
Besides, we have assets as well as debts: here is our schedule."

The elder softens a little and takes the paper. At the head of the list
of debts he finds Hector's bill for wages and services rendered, leading
off a long file of Aarons and Levys; and the assets consist of a debt of
honor owing by an officer killed at the Battle of Fleurus, and the
good-will of a match at _tric-trac_ with a poor player who had already
lost games enough to make his defeat certain.

The action of the comedy does not lag or limp from the opening scene to
Valere's last words. The versification is easy and natural; the dialogue
abounds in wit and comic humor; it is short and quick, with none of
those tedious declamations which weary and unsettle the attention of an
audience. Take it all in all, we may say, that, if Moliere had chosen
the same subject, he could hardly have handled it better.

Not that Regnard can pretend to rank with Moliere in genius,