Chapter III. - THE CONFIDENCE-TABLE.

„And now, friends, let us be joyful, and forget all the cares and sorrows of the world,“ cried the king, with a ringing laugh; „raise your glasses and strike them merrily. Long life to mirth, to jest, to joy!“

The glasses were raised, and as they met they rang out cheerily; they were pressed to the lips and emptied at a draught; the guests then seated themselves silently at the table. Frederick glanced at the circle of his friends who sat with him at the round table; his eyes dwelt searchingly upon every laughing face, then turned to the garden of Sans-Souci, which sent its perfumed breath, its song of birds, its evening breeze, through the open doors and windows, while the moon, rising in cloudless majesty, shone down upon them and rivalled with her silver rays the myriads of wax-lights which glittered in the crystal chandeliers.

„This is a glorious evening,“ said the king, „and we will enjoy it gloriously.“

He ordered the servants to close the doors, place the dessert and champagne upon the table, and leave the room. Noiselessly and silently this command was fulfilled. Frederick then greeted each one of his guests with a kindly nod.

„Welcome, thrice welcome are you all!“ said he. „I have longed to have you all together, and now, at last, you are here. There sits Voltaire, whose divine Emile was delivered first of a book, then of a child, and then released from life before he was free to come to Berlin. There is Algarotti, the swan of Italy, who spreads his wings and would gladly fly to the land of oranges and myrtles. There is La Mettrie, who only remains here because he is convinced that my Cape wine is pure, and my pates de foie gras truly from Strasbourg. There is D'Argens, who sought safety in Prussia because in every other land in Europe there are sweethearts waiting and sighing for him, to whom he has sworn a thousand oaths of constancy. There is Bastiani, who only remains with us while the Silesian dames, who have frankly confessed their sins to him and been absolved, find time and opportunity to commit other peccadilloes, which they will do zealously, in order to confess them once more to the handsome Abbe Bastiani. And lastly, there is my Lord Marshal, the noblest and best of all, whose presence we owe to the firmness of his political principles and the misfortunes of the house of Stuart.“

„And there is the Solomon of the North,“ cried Voltaire--“there is Frederick, the youngest of us all, and the wisest--the philosopher of Sans-Souci. There sits Apollo, son of the gods, who has descended from Olympus to be our king.“

„Let us not speak of kings,“ said Frederick. „When the sun goes down there is no king at Sans-Souci; he leaves the house and retires into another castle, God only knows where. We are all equal and wholly sans gene. At this table, there are no distinctions; we are seven friends, who laugh and chat freely with each other; or, if you prefer it, seven wise men.“

„This is then the Confidence-Table,“ said Voltaire, „of which D'Argens has so often spoken to me, and which has seemed to me like the Round-Table of King Arthur. Long live the Confidence-Table!“

„It shall live,“ cried the king, „and we will each one honor this, our first sitting, by showing our confidence in each other. Every one shall relate something piquant and strange of his past life, some lively anecdote, or some sweet little mystery which we dare trust to our friends, but not to our wives. The oldest begins first.“

„I am afraid I am that,“ said Voltaire, „but your majesty must confess that my heart has neither white hair nor wrinkles. Old age is a terrible old woman who slides quietly, grinning and threatening, behind every man, and watches the moment when she dares lay upon him the mask of weary years through which he has lived and suffered. She has, alas! fastened her wrinkled mask upon my face, but my heart is young and green, and if the women were not so short- sighted as to look only upon my outward visage, if they would condescend to look within, they would no longer call me the old Voltaire, but would love and adore me, even as they did in my youth.“

„Listen well, friends, he will no doubt tell us of some duchess who placed him upon an altar and bowed down and worshipped him.“

„No, sire, I will tell you of an injury, the bitterest I ever experienced, and which I can never forget.“

„As if he had ever forgotten an injury, unless he had revenged it threefold!“ cried D'Argens.

„And chopped up his enemy for pastry and eaten him,“ said La Mettrie.

„Truly, if I should eat all my enemies, I should suffer from an everlasting indigestion, and, in my despair, I might fly to La Mettrie for help. It is well known that when you suffer from incurable diseases, you seek, at last, counsel of the quack.“

„You forget that La Mettrie is a regular physician,“ said the king, with seeming earnestness.

„On the contrary, he remembered it well,“ said La Mettrie, smiling. „The best physician is the greatest quack, or the most active grave- digger, if you prefer it.“

„Silence!“ said the king. „Voltaire has the floor; he will tell us of the greatest offence he ever received. Give attention.“

„Alas! my heart is sad, sire; of all other pain, the pain of looking back into the past is the most bitter. I see myself again a young man, the Arouet to whom Ninon de l'Enclos gave her library and a pension, and who was confined for twenty years to the Bastile because he loved God and the king too little, and the charming Marquise de Villiers and some other ladies of the court too much. Besides these exalted ladies, there was a beautiful young maiden whom I loved--perhaps because she had one quality which I had never remarked in the possession of my more noble mistresses--she was innocent! Ah, friends, you should have seen Phillis, and you would have confessed that no rose-bud was lovelier, no lily purer, than she. Phillis was the daughter of a gypsy and a mouse-catcher, and danced on the tight-rope in the city-gardens.“

„Ah, it appears to me the goddess of innocence dances always upon the tight-rope in this world,“ said the king. „I should not be surprised to hear that even your little Phillis had a fall.“

„Sire, she fell, but in my arms; and we swore eternal love and constancy. You all know from experience the quality and fate of such oaths; they are the kindling-wood upon which the fire of love is sustained; but, alas, kindling and fire soon burnt out! Who is responsible? Our fire burned long; but, think you my Phillis, whom I had removed from the tight-rope, and exalted to a dancer upon the stage, was so innocent and naive, as to believe that our love must at last be crowned with marriage! I, however, was a republican, and feared all crowns. I declared that Ninon de l'Enclos had made me swear never to marry, lest my grandchildren should fall in love with me, as hers had done with her.“

„Precaution is praiseworthy,“ said La Mettrie. „The devil's grandmother had also a husband, and her grandsons might have fallen in love with her.“

„Phillis did not take me for the devil's grandfather, but for the devil himself. She cried, and shrieked, and cast my oaths of constancy in my teeth. I did not die of remorse, nor she of love, and to prove her constancy, she married a rich Duke de Ventadour.“

„And you, no doubt, gave away the bride, and swore you had never known a purer woman!“

„No, sire, I was at that time again in the Bastile, and left it only as an exile from France. When at last I was allowed to return to Paris, I sought out my Duchess de Ventadour, my Phillis of former times. I found her a distinguished lady; she had forgotten the follies of her youth; had forgotten her father, the rope-dancer; her mother, the mouse-catcher. She had no remembrance of the young Arouet, to whom she had sworn to say only 'tu' and 'toi.' Now she was grave and dignified, and 'Vous, monsieur,' was on her fair lip. Thanks to the heraldry office, she had become the daughter of a distinguished Spaniard, blessed with at least seven ancestors. Phillis gave good dinners, had good wine, and the world overlooked her somewhat obscure lineage. She was the acknowledged and respected Duchess Ventadour. She was still beautiful, but quite deaf; consequently her voice was loud and coarse, when she believed herself to be whispering. She invited me to read some selections from my new work in her saloon, and I was weak enough to accept the invitation. I had just completed my 'Brutus,' and burned with ambition to receive the applause of the Parisiennes. I commenced to read aloud my tragedy of 'Brutus' in the saloon of the duchess, surrounded by a circle of distinguished nobles, eminent in knowledge and art. I was listened to in breathless attention. In the deep silence which surrounded me, in the glowing eyes of my audience, in the murmurs of applause which greeted me, I saw that I was still Voltaire, and that the hangman's hands, which had burned my 'Lettres Philosophiques,' had not destroyed my fame or extinguished my genius. While I read, a servant entered upon tiptoe, to rekindle the fire. The Duchess Ventadour sat near the chimney. She whispered, or thought she whispered, to her servant. I read a little louder to drown her words. I was in the midst of one of the grandest scenes of my tragedy. My own heart trembled with emotion. Here and there I saw eyes, which were not wont to weep, filled with tears, and heard sighs from trembling lips, accustomed only to laughter and smiles. And now I came to the soliloquy of Brutus. He was resolving whether he would sacrifice his son's life to his fatherland. There was a solemn pause, and now, in the midst of the profound silence, the Duchess Ventadour in a shrill voice, which she believed to be inaudible, said to her servant: 'Do not fail to serve mustard with the pig's head!'„

A peal of laughter interrupted Voltaire, in which he reluctantly joined, being completely carried away by the general mirth.

„That was indeed very piquant, and I think you must have been greatly encouraged.“

„Did you eat of the pig's head, or were your teeth on edge?“

„No, they were sharp enough to bite, and I bit! In my first rage I closed my book, and cried out: 'Madame--! Well! as you have a pig's head, you do not require that Brutus should offer up the head of his son!' I was on the point of leaving the room, but the poor duchess, who was just beginning to comprehend her unfortunate interruption, hastened after me, and entreated me so earnestly to remain and read further, that I consented. I remained and read, but not from 'Brutus.' My rage made me, for the moment, an improvisator. Seated near to the duchess, surrounded by the proud and hypocritical nobles, who acknowledged Phillis only because she had a fine house and gave good dinners, I improvised a poem which recalled to the grand duchess and her satellites the early days of the fair Phillis, and brought the laugh on my side. My poem was called 'Le tu et le vous.' Now, gentlemen, this is the story of my 'Brutus' and the pig's head,“

„I acknowledge that it is a good story. It will be difficult for you, D'Argens, to relate so good a one,“ said the king.

„I dare not make the attempt, sire. Voltaire was ever the child of good fortune, and his life and adventures have been extraordinary, while I was near sharing the common fate of younger sons. I was destined for the priesthood.“

„That's a droll idea, indeed!“ said Frederick. „D'Argens, who believes in nothing, intended for a priest! How did you escape this danger?“

„Through the example of my dear brother, who was of a passionate piety, and became in the school of the Jesuits so complete a fanatic and bigot that he thundered out his fierce tirades against all earthly joys and pastimes, no matter how innocent they were. To resemble the holy Xavier and the sanctified and childlike Alois Gonzago, was his highest ideal. In the extremity of his piety and prudery he slipped into the art-gallery of our eldest brother and destroyed Titian's most splendid paintings and the glorious statues of the olden time. He gloried in this act, and called it a holy offering to virtue. He could not understand that it was vandalism. Our family had serious fears for the intellect of this poor young saint, maddened by the fanaticism of the Jesuits. They sought counsel of the oldest and wisest of our house, the Bishop of Bannes. After thinking awhile, the bishop said: 'I will soon cure the young man of this folly; I will make him a priest.'„

„Truly, your uncle, the bishop, was a wise man; he drove out folly with folly. He knew well that no one had less reverence for the churches than those who have built them, and are their priests.“

„That was the opinion of my very worthy uncle. He said, with a sly laugh: 'When he has heard a few confessions, he will understand the ways of the world better!' The bishop was right. My brother was consecrated. In a short time he became very tolerant and considerate, as a man and as a father confessor.“

„But you have not told us, marquis, how the fanaticism of your brother liberated you from the tonsure?“ said the king.

„My father found I would commence my priestly life with as much intolerance as my brother had done. He therefore proposed to me to consecrate myself to the world, and, instead of praying in the church, to fight for the cross. The thought pleased me, and I became a Knight of Malta.“

„Your first deed of arms was, without doubt, to seat yourself and write your 'Lettres Juives,'„ said the king; „those inspiring letters in which the knight of the cross mocks at Christianity and casts his glove as a challenge to revealed religion.“

„No, sire, I began my knightly course by entering the land of heathen and idolaters, to see if a man could be truly happy and contented in a land where there was neither Messiah nor crucifix--I went to Turkey.“

„But you carried your talisman with you?“ said the Abbe Bastiani-- „you wore the cross upon your mantle?“

„A remark worthy of our pious abbe,“ said Frederick; „no one knows better the protecting power of the cross than the priest who founded it. Tell us, marquis, did your talisman protect you? Did you become an apostate to the true faith?“

„Sire, I wished first to see their temples and their mode of worship, before I decided whether I would be an unbelieving believer or a believing unbeliever.“

„I think,“ said Voltaire, „you have never been a believer, or made a convert; you have made nothing but debts.“

„That is, perhaps, because I am not a great writer, and do not understand usury and speculation,“ said D'Argens, quietly. „Besides, no courtesan made me her heir, and no mistress obtained me a pension!“

„Look now,“ said the king, „our good marquis is learning from you, Voltaire; he is learning to scratch and bite.“

„Yes,“ said Voltaire; „there are creatures whom all men imitate, even in their vile passions and habits; perhaps they take them for virtues.“

The face of the marquis was suffused; he rose angrily, and was about to answer, but the king laid his hand upon his arm. „Do not reply to him; you know that our great poet changes himself sometimes into a wicked tiger, and does not understand the courtly language of men. Do not regard him, but go on with your story.“

The king--drew back his hand suddenly, and, seemingly by accident, touched the silver salt-cellar; it fell and scattered the salt upon the table. The marquis uttered a light cry, and turned pale.

„Alas!“ cried the king, with well-affected horror, „what a misfortune! Quick, quick, my friends! let us use an antidote against the wiles of the demons, which our good marquis maintains springs always from an overturned salt-cellar. Quick, quick! take each of you a pinch of salt, and throw it upon the burners of the chandeliers; listen how it crackles and splutters! These are the evil spirits in hell-fire, are they not, marquis? Now let each one take another pinch, and throw it, laughing merrily, over the left shoulder. You, Voltaire, take the largest portion, and cast it from you; I think you have always too much salt, and your most beautiful poems are thereby made unpalatable.“

„Ah, sire, you speak of the salt of my wit. No one remembers that the tears which have bathed my face have fallen upon my lips, and become crystallized into biting sarcasms. Only the wretched and sorely tried are sharp of wit and bitter of speech.“

„Not so,“ said La Mettrie; „these things are the consequence of bad digestion. This machine is not acted upon by what you poets call spirit, and I call brain; it reacts upon itself. When a man is melancholy, it comes from his stomach. To be gay and cheery, to have your spirits clear and fresh, you have nothing more to do than to eat heartily and have a good digestion. Moliere could not have written such glorious comedies if he had fed upon sour krout and old peas, instead of the woodcock, grouse, and truffles which fell to him from King Louis's table. Man is only a machine, nothing more.“

„La Mettrie, I will give you to-morrow nothing but grouse and truffles to eat: woe to you, then, if the day after you do not write me just such a comedy as Moliere's! But we entirely forget that the marquis owes us the conclusion of his story; we left him a Knight of Malta, and we cannot abandon him in this position; that would be to condemn him to piety and virtue. Go on, dear marquis, we have thrown the salt and banished the demons--go on, then, with your history.“

„Well,“ said the marquis, „to relate it is less dangerous than to live through it. I must confess, however, that the perils of life have also their charms. I wished, as I had the honor to say to you, to witness a religious service in the great mosque at Constantinople, and by my prayers, supported by a handful of gold pieces, I succeeded in convincing the Turk, who had the care of the key to the superb Sophia, that it was not an unpardonable sin to allow an unbelieving Christian to witness the holy worship of an unbelieving Mussulman. Indeed, he risked nothing but the bastinado; while I, if discovered, would be given over to the hangman, and could only escape my fate by becoming a Mussulman.“

„What an earnest and profitable Christian Holy Mother Church would thus have lost in the author of Les Lettres Juives!“ said Frederick, laughing.

„But what an exquisite harem the city of Constantinople would have won!“ cried Voltaire.

„What a happiness for you, my Lord Marshal, that your beautiful Mohammedan was not then born; the marquis would without doubt have bought her from you!“

„If Zuleima will allow herself to be bought, there will be nothing to pay,“ said Lord Marshal, with a soft smile.

„You are right, my lord,“ said the marquis, with a meaning side glance at Voltaire, „you are right; nothing is more despicable than the friendship which can be purchased.“

„You succeeded, however, in bribing the good Mussulman,“ said Algarotti, „and enjoyed the unheard-of happiness of witnessing their worship.“

„Yes, the night before a grand fete, my Turk led me to the mosque, and hid me behind a great picture which was placed before one of the doors of the tribune. This was seemingly a safe hiding-place. The tribune was not used, and years had passed since the door had been opened. It lay, too, upon the southern side of the mosque, and you know that the worshippers of Mohammed must ever turn their faces toward Mecca, that is, to the morning sun; I was sure, therefore, that none of these pious unbelievers would ever look toward me. From my concealment I could with entire comfort observe all that passed; but I made my Turk most unhappy in the eagerness of my curiosity. I sometimes stepped from behind my picture, and leaned a little over the railing. My poor Mussulman entreated me with such a piteous mien, and pointed to the soles of his feet with such anguish, that I was forced to take pity on him and withdraw into my concealment. But at last, in spite of the solemnities, and my own ardent piety, the animal was roused within and overcame me. I was hungry! and as I had expected this result, I had placed a good bottle of wine and some ham and fresh bread in my pocket. I now took them out, spread my treasures upon the floor, and began to breakfast. The Turk looked at me with horror, and he would not have been surprised if the roof of the holy mosque had fallen upon the Christian hound who dared to desecrate it by drinking wine and eating ham within its precincts, both of which were strictly forbidden by the prophet. But the roof did not fall, not even when I forced my Mussulman to eat ham and drink wine with me, by threatening to show myself openly if he refused. He commenced his unholy meal with dark frowns and threatening glances, ever looking up, as if he feared the sword of the prophet would cleave him asunder. Soon, however, he familiarized himself with his sin, and forgot the holy ceremonies which were being solemnized. When the service was over, and all others had left the mosque, he prayed me to wait yet a little longer, and as the best of friends, we finished the rest of my bacon and drank the last drop of my wine to the health of the prophet, laughing merrily over the dangers we had escaped. As at last we were about to separate, my good Turk was sad and thoughtful, and he confessed to me that he had the most glowing desire to become a Christian. The bacon and wine had refreshed him marvellously, and he was enthusiastic for a religion which offered such glorious food, not only for the soul, but for the body. I was too good a Christian not to encourage his holy desires. I took him into my service, and when we had left Turkey, and found ourselves on Christian soil, my Mussulman gratified the thirst of his soul, and became a son of Holy Mother Church, and felt no remorse of conscience in eating ham and drinking wine. So my visit to the holy mosque was rich in blessed consequences; it saved a soul, and my wine and my ham plucked a man from the hell-fire of unbelief. That is, I believe, the only time I ever succeeded in making a proselyte.“

„The salvation of that soul will free you from condemnation and insure your own eternal happiness. When you come to die, marquis, you dare say, 'I have not lived in vain, I have won a soul to heaven.'„

„Provided,“ said Voltaire, „that the bacon with which you converted the Turk was not part of one of the beasts into which the devils were cast, as is written in the Holy Scriptures. If this was so, then the newly-baked Christian has certainly eaten of everlasting damnation.“

„Let us hope that this is not so,“ said Frederick; „and now, my Lord Marshal, it is your turn to give us a piquant anecdote; or, if you prefer it, an heroic deed from your life, so rich in virtue, magnanimity, truth, and constancy. Ah, messieurs, let us now be thoughtful, cast down our eyes, and exalt our hearts. A virtuous man is about to speak: truly virtue is a holy goddess loved by few, to whom few altars are erected, and who has few priests in her service. My Lord Marshal is consecrated to her altar; you may well believe this when I assure you of it--I, who have been so often deceived, and often tempted to believe no longer in the existence of virtue. My noble Keith has forced me to be credulous. This faith comforts me, and I thank him.“

With a glance of inexpressible love he gave his hand to his friend, who pressed it to his breast. The faces of all present were grave, almost stern. The words of the king were a reproach, and they felt wounded. Frederick thought not of them; he looked alone upon the noble, handsome face of Lord Marshal, not remembering that the love and consideration manifested for him might excite the envy and jealousy of his other friends.

„Now, my lord, will you commence your history, or are we too impure and sinful to listen to any of the holy mysteries of your pure life?“

„Ah, sire, there are no mysteries in my simple life; it lies like an open book before the eyes of my king, and, indeed, to all the world.“

„In that pure book I am sure that all can learn wisdom and experience,“ said Frederick. „It is a book of rarest value, in which every nobleman can learn how to be faithful to his king in dire misfortune and to the gates of death. Ah, my lord, there are few men like yourself, who can count it as imperishable fame to have been condemned to the scaffold. The Pretender must, indeed, be a most noble prince, as you were willing to give your life for him.“

„He was my rightful king and lord, and I owed him allegiance. That I was condemned for him, and pardoned, and banished from England, I cannot now consider a misfortune, as I have thereby enjoyed the great happiness of being near your majesty. But you must not think too highly of my constancy to 'the Pretender;' it was not pure loyalty, and if I carelessly and rashly cast my life upon a wild chance, it was because the world had but little value for me. In the despair and anguish of my heart I should have called Death a welcome friend. Had I been happier I should have been less brave.“

„And will you tell us, my lord, why you were unhappy?“

„Sire, mine is a simple little history, such as is daily acted out in this weary world. We are all, however, proud to think that none have suffered as we have done. There are many living hearts covered as with a gravestone, under which every earthly happiness is shrouded, but the world is ignorant, and goes laughing by. My heart has bled in secret, and my happiness is a remembrance; my life once promised to be bright and clear as the golden morning sun. The future beckoned to me with a thousand glorious promises and greeted me with winning, magic smiles. I saw a young, lovely, innocent, modest maiden, like a spring rose, with heaven's dew still hanging untouched upon its soft leaves. I saw and loved; it seemed to me God had sent me in her His most wondrous revelation. I loved, I worshipped her. She was the daughter of a distinguished French noble. I went to Paris, a young and modest man, highly commended to many influential and powerful families of the court. We met daily; at first with wonder and surprise; then, with deep emotion, we heard each other's voices without daring to speak together; and then, at last, I no longer dared to utter a word in her presence, because my voice trembled and I could not control it. One day, as we sat silently next each other in a large assembly, I murmured in low, broken tones: 'If I dared to love you, would you forgive me?' She did not look up, but she said, 'I should be happy.' We then sank again into our accustomed silence, only looking from time to time into each other's happy eyes. This lasted six weeks, six weeks of silent but inexpressible happiness. At last I overcame my timidity and made known the sweet mystery of my love. I demanded the hand of my Victoire from her father; he gave a cheerful consent, and led me to my beloved. I pressed her to my heart, drunk with excess of joy. At this moment her grandmother entered with a stern face and scornful glance. She asked if I was a Protestant. This fearful question waked me from my dream of bliss. In the rapture of the last few months I had thought of nothing but my love. Love had become my religion, and I needed no other influence to lead me to worship God. But this, alas, was not sufficient! I declared myself a Protestant. Victoire uttered a cry of anguish, and sank insensible into her father's arms. Two days afterward I left France. Victoire would not see me, and refused my hand. I returned to England, broken-hearted, desperate, almost insane. In this delirium of grief I joined 'the Pretender,' and undertook for him and his cause the wildest and most dangerous adventures, which ended, at last, in my being captured and condemned to the block. This, your majesty, was the only love of my life. You see I had, indeed, but little to relate.“

Frederick said nothing, and no one dared to break the silence. Even Voltaire repressed the malicious jest which played upon his lip, and was forced to content himself with a mocking smile.

„What were the words that your father spoke when he sent you forth as a man into the world? I think you once repeated them to me,“ said Frederick.

„Quand vos yeux, en naissant, s'ouvraient a la lumiere, Chacun vous souriait, mon fils, et vous pleuriez. Vivez si bien, qu'un jour, a votre derniere heure, Chacun verse des pleurs, et qu'on vous voie sourire.“

„You have fulfilled your father's wish,“ said the king. „You have so lived, that you can smile when all others are weeping for you, and no man who has loved can forget you. I am sure your Victoire will never forget you. Have you not seen her since that first parting?“

„Yes, sire, I have seen her once again, as I came to Prussia, after being banished forever from England. Ah, sire, that was a happy meeting after twenty years of separation. The pain and grief of love were over, but the love remained. We confessed this to each other. In the beginning there was suffering and sorrow, then a sweet, soft remembrance of our love, for we had never ceased to think upon each other. It seems that to love faithfully and eternally it is only necessary to love truly and honorably, and then to separate. Custom and daily meeting cannot then brush the bloom from love's light wings; its source is in heaven, and it returns to the skies and shines forever and inextinguishable a star over our heads. When I looked again. upon Victoire she had been a long time married, and to the world she had, perhaps, ceased to be beautiful. To me she will be ever lovely; and as she looked upon me it seemed to me that the clouds and shadows had been lifted from my life, and my sun was shining clear. But, sire, all this has no interest for you. How tenderly I loved Victoire you will know, when I tell you that the only poem my unpoetical brain has ever produced was written for her.“

„Let us hear it, my lord,“ said the king.

„If your majesty commands it, and Voltaire will forgive it,“ said Lord Marshal.

„I forgive it, my lord,“ cried Voltaire. „Since I listened to you I live in a land of wonders and soft enchantments, whose existence I have never even guessed, and upon whose blooming, perfumed beauty I scarcely dare open my unholy eyes. The fairy tales of my dreamy youth seem now to be true, and I hear a language which we, poor sons of France, living under the regency of the Duke of Orleans, have no knowledge of. I entreat you, my lord, let us hear your poem.“

Lord Marshal bowed, and, leaning back in his chair, in a full rich voice, he recited the following verses:

„'Un trait lance par caprice M'atteignit dans mon printemps; J'en porte la cicatrice Encore, sous mes cheveux blancs. Craignez les maux qu'amour cause, Et plaignez un insense Qui n'a point cueilli la rose, Et qui l'epine a blesse.' [Footnote: Memoires de la Marquise de Crequi.]

„And now,“ said Lord Marshal rapidly, wishing to interrupt all praise and all remark as to his poem; „I have yet a confession to make, and if you have not laughed over my verses, you will surely laugh at what I now state. Out of love for my lost mistress, I became a Catholic. I thought that the faith, to which my Victoire offered up her love, must be the true religion in which all love was grounded. I wished to be hers in spirit, in life, and in death. In spirit, in truth, I am a Catholic; and now, gentlemen, you may laugh.“

„Sublime!“ whispered Voltaire.

„No one will smile,“ said the king, sternly. „Joy and peace to him who is a believer, and can lay his heart upon the cross, and feel strengthened and supported by it. He will not wander in strange and forbidden paths, as we poor, short-sighted mortals often do. Will you tell us the name of your beloved mistress, or is that a secret?“

„Sire, our love was pure and innocent; we dare avow it to the whole world. My beloved's name was Victoire de Froulay; she is now Marquise de Crequi.“

„Ah, the Marquise de Crequi!“ said Voltaire, with animation: „one of the wittiest and most celebrated women of Paris.“

„She is still living?“ said the king, thoughtfully. „would you like to meet her again, my lord?“

„Yes, your majesty, for one hour, to say to her that I am a Catholic, and that we shall meet in heaven!“

„I will send you as ambassador to Paris, my lord, and you shall bear the marquise my greetings.“ [Footnote: Lord Marshal went to Paris, as an ambassador from Prussia, in 1751.]

„Your majesty will thus be acting an epigram for George of England,“ said Voltaire, laughing. „Two of his noblest rebels will be cementing the friendship of France and Prussia. Lord Tyrconnel, the Irishman, is ambassador from France to Prussia, and my Lord Marshal Keith is to be ambassador from Prussia to France. All, my lord! how will the noble marquise rejoice when her faithful knight shall introduce to her his most beautiful possession--the young and lovely Mohammedan Zuleima! How happy will Zuleima be when you point out to her the woman who loved you so fondly! She will then know, my lord, that you also once had a heart, and have been beloved by a woman.“

„I will present my little Zuleima to the marquise,“ said Lord Marshal; „and, when I tell her that she was a bequest of my dear brother, who, at the storming of Oschakow, where he commanded as field-marshal, rescued her from the flames, she will find it just and kind that I gave the poor orphan a home and a father. I wish first, however, to give Zuleima a husband, if your majesty will allow it. The Tartar Ivan, my chamberlain, loves Zuleima, and she shall be his wife if your majesty consents.“

„By all means,“ said Frederick; „but I fear it will be difficult to have this marriage solemnized in Berlin. Your Tartar, I believe, has the honor to be heathen.“

„Sire, he is, in faith, a Persian.“

„A fire-worshipper, then,“ said Frederick. „Well, I propose that Voltaire shall bless this marriage; where fire is worshipped as a god, Voltaire, the man of fire and flame, may well be priest.“

„Ah, sire, I believe we are all Persians; surely we all worship the light, and turn aside from darkness. You are to us the god Ormuzd, from whom all light proceeds; and every priest is for us as Ahriman, the god of darkness. Be gracious to me, then, your majesty, and do not call upon me to play the role of priest even in jest. But why does this happy son of the heathen require a priest? Is not the sungod Ormuzd himself present? With your majesty's permission, we will place the loving pair upon the upper terrace of Sans-Souci, where they will be baptized in holy fire by the clear rays of the mid-day sun. Then the divine Marianna, Cochois, and Denys will perform some mystical dance, and so the marriage will be solemnized according to Persian rites and ceremonies.“

„And then, I dare hope your majesty will give a splendid wedding- feast, where costly wines and rich and rare viands will not fail us,“ said La Mettrie.

„Look, now, how his eyes sparkle with anticipated delights!“ cried the king. „La Mettrie would consent to wed every woman in the world if he could thereby spend his whole life in one continuous wedding- feast; but listen, sir, before you eat again, you have a story to relate. Discharge this duty at once, and give us a piquant anecdote from your gay life.“