me hallucination of the mind,
or a fit of madness. Artabaze is a cowardly hero, who believes he has
conquered the world. Amidor is a wild poet, who imagines he ranks above
Homer. Filidan is a lover, who becomes inflammable as gunpowder for
every mistress he reads of in romances. Phalante is a beggarly bankrupt,
who thinks himself as rich as Croesus. Melisse, in reading the "History
of Alexander," has become madly in love with this hero, and will have no
other husband than "him of Macedon." Hesperie imagines her fatal charms
occasion a hundred disappointments in the world, but prides herself on
her perfect insensibility. Sestiane, who knows no other happiness than
comedies, and whatever she sees or hears, immediately plans a scene for
dramatic effect, renounces any other occupation; and finally, Alcidon,
the father of these three mad girls, as imbecile as his daughters are
wild. So much for the amiable characters!

The plot is in perfect harmony with the genius of the author, and the
characters he has invented--perfectly unconnected, and fancifully wild.
Alcidon resolves to marry his three daughters, who, however, have no
such project of their own. He offers them to the first who comes. He
accepts for his son-in-law the first who offers, and is clearly
convinced that he is within a very short period of accomplishing his
wishes. As the four ridiculous personages whom we have noticed
frequently haunt his house, he becomes embarrassed in finding one lover
too many, having only three daughters.

The catastrophe relieves the old gentleman from his embarrassments.
Melisse, faithful to her Macedonian hero, declares her resolution of
dying before she marries any meaner personage. Hesperie refuses to
marry, out of pity for mankind; for to make one man happy she thinks she
must plunge a hundred into despair. Sestiane, only passionate for
comedy, cannot consent to any marriage, and tells her father, in very
lively verses,

Je ne veux point, mon pere, espouser un censeur;
Puisque vous me souffrez recevoir la douceur
Des plaisirs innocens que le theatre apporte,
Prendrais-je le hasard de vivre d'autre sorte?
Puis on a des enfans, qui vous sont sur les bras,
Les mener an theatre, O Dieux! quel embarras!
Tantot couche ou grossesse, on quelque maladie;
Pour jamais vous font dire, adieu la comedie!

IMITATED.

No, no, my father, I will have no critic,
(Miscalled a husband) since you sti