He was soon tucked down into a species of
dumb-waiter on castors, in which he could be rolled about in a party. In
front of this chair was fastened a desk, on which he wrote; for too wise
to be overcome by his agony, he drove it away by cultivating his
imagination, and in this way some of the most fantastic productions in
French literature were composed by this quaint little abbe.
Nor was sickness his only trial now. Old Scarron was a citizen, and had,
what was then criminal, sundry ideas of the liberty of the nation. He
saw with disgust the tyranny of Richelieu, and joined a party in the
Parliament to oppose the cardinal's measures. He even had the courage to
speak openly against one of the court edicts; and the pitiless cardinal,
who never overlooked any offence, banished him to Touraine, and
naturally extended his animosity to the conseiller's son. This happened
at a moment at which the cripple believed himself to be on the road to
favour. He had already won that of Madame de Hautefort, on whom Louis
XIII. had set his affections, and this lady had promised to present him
to Anne of Austria. The father's honest boldness put a stop to the son's
intended servility, and Scarron lamented his fate in a letter to
Pellisson:
O mille ecus, par malheur retranches,
Que vous pouviez m'epargner de peches!
Quand un valet me dit, tremblant et have,
Nous n'avons plus de buches dans la cave
Que pour aller jusqu'a demain matin,
Je peste alors sur mon chien de destin,
Sur le grand froid, sur le bois de la greve,
Qu'on vend si cher, et qui si-tot s'acheve.
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