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JEAN RACINE.

RACINE, JEAN, a French dramatic poet; born at La Ferté-Milon, December 21, 1639; died at Paris, April 26, 1699. He studied at the College of Beauvais, at Port Royal, and at the College of Harcourt, became known to Boileau and Molière, and at twenty-one won the favor of Louis XIV. by an ode upon the occasion of the marriage of the monarch, who bestowed a pension upon him. In 1667 he produced his tragedy of “Andromaque,” which placed him at the head of the French dramatists. His subsequent dramas are “ Les Plaideurs," a comedy (1668); “Britannicus," (1669); “Bérénice” (1670); “Bajazet” (1672); “Mithridate” (1673); “Iphigénie en Aulide” (1674); “Phèdre” (1677). He wrote in 1689 the Scriptural drama of “Esther," and in 1689 the lyrical drama, “Athalie.” Racine also wrote some vigorous prose, and a few poems of considerable merit.

THE RIVALS.

(From “ Bajazet.") Scene: The private apartments of BAJAZET at Byzantium. Present : RoxANA, BAJAZET, ATALIDE, ZARA.

ROXANA. Come, Bajazet, 'tis time to show yourself,
That all the court may recognize its master:
All that these walls contain, many in number,
Gathered by my command, await my wishes.
My slaves (the rest will follow where they lead)
Are the first subjects that my love allots you.

[TO ATALIDE] —
This sudden change from wrath to milder mood
May well surprise you, madam. For, but now,
Determined to take vengeance on a traitor,
I swore he should not see another day;
Yet almost ere he spoke my heart relented :
’T was love imposed that oath, and love revokes it.
Reading deep passion in his wild distraction,
His pardon I pronounced, and trust his promise.

BAJAZET. Yes, I have promised, and my word is pledged
Ne’er to forget all that to you I owe:
Have I not sworn that constant care and kindness
Shall duly pay my debt of gratitude ?
If on these terms your favor I may claim,
I go to wait the harvest of your bounty.

[Exit.
ROXANA. Heavens! What amazement strikes me at this moment!
Is it a dream ? and have mine eyes deceived me ?
What mean these frigid words, this sombre greeting,
Which seems to cancel all that passed between us?
What hope does he imagine mine, for which
I banished my resentment, and restored him
To favor ? He, methought, swore that his heart
Would own me mistress to his dying day.
Does he repent already of the peace
That we had signed ? Was I just now deluded ?
But was he not conversing with you, madam ?
What did he say?

ATALIDE. To me? He loves you always.

Roxana. His life at least depends on my belief
That it is so. But tell me, pray, when joy
Should triumph, how can you explain the gloom
That settled on his features as he left me ?

ATALIDE. Madam, I saw no cloud upon his brow.
Oft has he told me of your gracious kindness,
And he just now was full of it; at parting
He seemed to me the same as when he entered.
But be that as it may, need it surprise you
That on the eve of such important issues
He should be troubled, and some signs escape him
Of anxious thoughts that on his mind intrude ?

Roxana. Such plausible excuses do you credit
For skill that pleads on his behalf more fairly
Than he could do himself.
ATALIDE.

What other cause -
ROXANA. Enough! I read your motive, madam, better
Than you suppose. Leave me, for I would be
Alone a little while. I too am troubled,
And anxious cares are mine as well as his,
To which I owe a moment's thought in secret. ...

ROXANA. How must I construe all that I have seen ?
Are they in league together to deceive me?
Wherefore this change, those words, that quick departure ?
Did I not catch a glance that passed between them ?
Were they not both struck with embarrassment ?

Ah! why has Heaven doomed me to this affront?
Is this the fruit of all my blind affection ?
So many painful days and sleepless nights,
Plots and intrigues, treason too deep for pardon!
And shall they all turn to a rival's profit ?

But yet, too ready to torment myself,
I may too closely scan a passing cloud,
And take for passion what is mere caprice.
Surely he would have carried to the end
His wiles; and in full prospect of success,
He could have feigned at least a moment longer.
Love, uncontrolled by reason, quakes at shadows :
Let me take courage. Why should Atalide
Be dreaded as my rival ? What has he
To thank her for ? To which of us to-day
Owes he the sceptre ?

But too well I know
Love is a tyrant; and if other charms
Attract, what matter crowns, or life itself ?
Can benefits outweigh the heart's attachment ?
I need but search mine own. Did gratitude
Constrain me to his brother, when this wretch
Bewitched me? Ah! if other tie were absent,
Would the idea of marriage so alarm him ?
He gladly would have seconded my wishes,
And not have braved destruction by refusal.
Just cause

But some one comes to speak with me. What can she want?

Enter FATIMA. FATIMA.

Forgive me this intrusion :
But there is come a courier from the army;
And though the seaward gate was shut, the guards,
On bended knees, without delay unlocked it
To orders from the Sultan, to yourself
Addressed, — and strange to say, 't is Orcan brings them.

ROXANA, Orcan!
FATIMA.

Yes, he; of all the Sultan's slaves
The one most trusted for his faithful service,
Blackest of those whom Afric's sun has scorched.
Madam, he asks impatiently for you:
I thought it best to give you timely notice,
And lest you should be taken by surprise,
I have detained him in your own apartments.