wearisome." Then the satires began, and the satirists never left
you till your poetic reputation was a rag, till the mildest Abbe at
Menage's had his cheap sneer for Chapelain.

I make no doubt, Sir, that envy and jealousy had much to do with the
onslaught on your "Pucelle." These qualities, alas! are not strange
to literary minds; does not even Hesiod tell us that "potter hates
potter, and poet hates poet"? But contemporary spites do not harm
true genius. Who suffered more than Moliere from cabals? Yet
neither the court nor the town ever deserted him, and he is still
the joy of the world. I admit that his adversaries were weaker than
yours. What were Boursault and Le Boulanger, and Thomas Corneille
and De Vise, what were they all compared to your enemy, Boileau?
Brossette tells a story which really makes a man pity you. You
remember M. de Puimorin, who, to be in the fashion, laughed at your
once popular Epic. "It is all very well," said you, "for a man to
laugh who cannot even read." Whereon M. de Puimorin replied:
"Qu'il n'avoit que trop su lire, depuis que Chapelain s'etoit avise
de faire imprimer." A new horror had been added to the
accomplishment of reading since Chapelain had published. This
repartee was applauded, and M. de Puimorin tried to turn it into an
epigram. He did complete the last couplet,


Helas! pour mes peches, je n'ai su que trop lire
Depuis que tu fais imprimer.


But by no labour would M. de Puimorin achieve the first two lines of
his epigram. Then you remember what great allies came to his