exhibition of dead beauties (here by, not to,
Faustus), with Elizabeth's affected depreciation of Helen, Cleopatra,
and Mariamne, and her equally affected admiration of Fair Rosamond,[291]
whom she insists on summoning _twice_, despite Faustus's warning, and
with disastrous consequences. Hamilton's irony is so pervading that one
does not know whether ignorance, carelessness, or intention made him not
only introduce Sidney and Essex as contemporary favourites of Elizabeth,
but actually attribute Rosamond's end to poor Jane Shore instead of to
Queen Eleanor! This would matter little if the tale had been stronger;
but though it is told with Hamilton's usual easy fluency, the Queen's
depreciations, the flattery of the courtiers, and the rest of it, are
rather slightly and obviously handled. One would give half a dozen like
it for that _Second_ (but not necessarily _Last_) _Part_ of the
_Facardins_, which Crebillon the younger is said to have actually seen
and had the opportunity of saving, a chance which he neglected till too
late.

As _L'Enchanteur Faustus_ is the shortest of the completed tales, so _Le
Belier_ is the longest; indeed, as indicated above, it is the same
length as what we have of _Les Quatre Facardins_. It is also--in that
unsatisfactory and fragmentary way of knowledge with which literature
often has to content itself--much the best known, because of the
celebrated address of the giant Moulineau to the hero-beast "Belier, mon
ami,... si tu voulais bien commencer par le commencement, tu me ferais
plaisir." There are many other agreeable things in it; but it has on the
whole a double or more than double portion of the drawback which attends
these "key" stories. It was written to please his sister, Madame de
Grammont, who had established herself in a country-house, near
Versailles. This she transformed from a mere cottage, called Moulineau,
into an elegant villa to which she gave the name of Pontalie. There were
apparently some difficulties with rustic neighbours, and Anthony wove
the whole matter into this story, with the giant and the (of course
enchanted) ram just mentioned; and the beautiful Alie who hates all men
(or nearly all); and her father, a powerful druid, who is the giant's
enemy; and the Prince de Noisy and the Vicomte de Gonesse, and other
personages of the environs of Paris, who were no doubt recognisable and
interesting once, but who, whether recognisable or not, are not
specially interesting