Very numerous and brilliant have also been the incursions of Jules Claretie into the theatrical domain, though he is a better novelist than playwright. He was appointed director of the Comedie Francaise in 1885. His best known dramas and comedies are: ‘La Famille de Gueux, in collaboration with Della Gattina (Ambigu, 1869); Raymond Lindey (Menus Plaisirs, 1869, forbidden for some time by French censorship); Les Muscadins (Theatre Historique, 1874); Un Pyre (with Adrien Decourcelle, Gymnase, 1874); Le Regiment de Champagne (Theatre Historique, 1877); Monsieur le Ministre, together with Dumas fils and Busnach (Gymnase, 1883); and Prince Zilah (Gymnase, 1885). Some of them, as will be noticed, are adapted to the stage from his novels. In Le Regiment de Champagne, at least, he has written a little melodramatically. But thanks to the battles, fumes of powder, muskets, and cannons upon the stage the descendants of Jean Chauvin accept it with frenetic applause. In most of the plays, however, he exhibits a rather nervous talent, rich imagination, and uses very scintillating and picturesque language, if he is inclined to do so--and he is very often inclined. He received the “Prix Vitet” in 1879 from the Academy for Le Drapeau. Despite our unlimited admiration for Claretie the journalist, Claretie the historian, Claretie the dramatist, and Claretie the art-critic, we think his novels conserve a precious and inexhaustible mine for the Faguets and Lansons of the twentieth century, who, while frequently utilizing him for the exemplification of the art of fiction, will salute him as “Le Roi de la Romance.” COMPTE D’HAUSSONVILLE de L’Academie Francaise. PRINCE ZILAH BOOK 1. CHAPTER I. THE BETROTHAL FETE “Excuse me, Monsieur, but pray tell me what vessel that is over there.” The question was addressed to a small, dark man, who, leaning upon the parapet of the Quai des Tuileries, was rapidly writing in a note-book with a large combination pencil, containing a knife, a pen, spare leads, and a paper-cutter--all the paraphernalia of a reporter accustomed to the expeditions of itinerant journalism. When he had filled, in his running hand, a leaf of the book, the little man tore it hastily off, and extended it to a boy in dark blue livery with silver buttons, bearing the initial of the newspaper, L’Actualite; and then, still continuing to write, he replied: “Prince Andras Zilah is giving a fete on board one of the boats belonging to the Compagnie de la Seine.” “A fete? Why?” “To celebrate his approaching marriage, Monsieur.” “Prince Andras! Ah!” said the first speaker, as if he knew the name well; “Prince Andras is to be married, is he? And who does Prince Andras Zil--” “Zilah! He is a Hungarian, Monsieur.” The reporter appeared to be in a hurry, and, handing another leaf to the boy, he said: