Et ce que l'homme souffre en ses convulsions,
Quand au volcan du cœur grondent les passions.
Je ne cacherai plus où ma plume fidèle
A trouvé d'Antony le type et le modèle,
Et je dirai tout haut à quels foyers brûlants
Yaquoub[1] et Saint Mégrin puisèrent leurs élans...."
"Charles VII." was a failure, or at best a succés d'estime. Dumas fils has told us how sadly he and his father walked homeward after the play; for the tragedy had contained its author's most conscious and most literary attempt at poetry; and all his many successes in life never compensated Dumas for the fact that he was not in the strict sense of the word a poet, and could not disguise the fact from himself.
"Charles VII." was of the school of "Christine," and was the result of Dumas's occasional yearnings after a classical reputation; but the drama-proper was his more congenial métier. "Richard Darlington," a legitimate son of "Antony," was successfully produced, and became one of its author's favourite plays. In spite of this Dumas, who on this occasion had collaborators, refused to allow his name to be announced, even as part-author. Unfortunately "Richard Darlington" will be read by English people—if it is read at all—with more amusement than respect; for the scene is laid in England, and the details of our social life which it offers have all the piquancy of novelty, and discount the dramatic strength of the play.
- ↑ The "hero" of "Charles VII."
