oke her promise, and gave the name
of the writer. The king was very angry, and asked, "Does he think that
he knows everything because he writes verses?"

Madame de Maintenon saw at once that the king was much displeased, and
felt it to be her duty to inform the poet, that he might stay away from
court for a while, until the monarch's anger died away. Racine was
plunged into the deepest distress, and grew daily weak and ill. He
wandered over the park of Versailles, hoping to accidentally meet Madame
de Maintenon, for she did not dare to receive him publicly. He at length
met her, and she promised that she would yet bring pleasanter days to
the poet--that the cloud would soon pass away. He replied with great
melancholy that no fair weather would return for him.

One day, while in his study, he was seized with a sudden illness, and
was obliged to take at once to his bed. An abscess in his liver had
closed, though this was not known at the time. His disease grew very
painful, and he became more patient and resigned. As death drew near,
his original sweetness of disposition came back to him, and his deep
melancholy fled away. The nobles of the court gathered around his
bed-side, and the king sent to make inquiries as to his condition. He
arranged all his pecuniary affairs. Boileau was with him, and when he
bade him farewell, he said, "I look on it as a happiness that I die
before you."

When the physicians had discovered the abscess in his liver, they
resolved upon an operation, and he consented, though with no hope of
saving his life. He said, "The physicians try to give me hope, and God
could restore me; but the work of death is done." In three more days he
expired, in his sixtieth year. Thus lived and died one of the most
brilliant men in the history of France.

CHAPTER XII

THE FABULIST--THE INFIDEL--THE COMIC WRITER

THE FABULIST.

La Fontaine, the fabulist, was buried by the side of Moliere, who died
long before him. He was born July 8th, 1621, at Chateau Thierry. His
father was keeper of the royal domains. While young, La Fontaine gave no
promise of his after distinction. His teachers declared him to be a
dunce. His father, who seems to have been an admirer of poetry,
persuaded him to attempt to write verses, but he could not make a rhyme.
Seeing at nineteen that he could not make a poet of his son, the old man
resolved to make a priest of him. After eighteen months of trial the
young man returned to