I found her all dissolved in tears. 'Ah!' said she,--[But why is our dear Wilhelmina left saying nothing; invisible, behind the curtains of envious Chance, and only a skirt of them lifted to show us this Improper Duchess once more!]--'Ah!' said she (the Improper Duchess, at sight of me), 'will the King of Prussia be a tyrant, then? To pay me for intrusting my Boys to him, and giving him two Regiments [for money down], will he force me to implore justice against him from the whole world? I must have my Child! He shall not go to Vienna; it is in his own Country that I will have him brought up beside me. To put my Son in Austrian hands? [unless, indeed, your Highness were driven into Financial or other straits?]
You know if I love France;--if my design is not to pass the rest of my days there, so soon as my Son comes to majority!' Ohone, ohoo!
"In fine, the quarrel was appeased. The King of Prussia told me he would be gentler with the Mother; would restore the Son if they absolutely wished it; but that he hoped the young Prince would of himself like better to stay where he was." ...--"I trust your Lordship will allow me to draw for those 300 ducats, for a new carriage. I have spent all I had, running about these four months.
I leave this for Brunswick and homewards, on the evening of the 12th." [Voltaire, lxxiii. 105-109.] ...
And so the curtain drops on the Baireuth Journey, on the Berlin Visit; and indeed, if that were anything, on Voltaire's Diplomatic career altogether. The insignificant Accidents, the dull Powers that be, say No. Curious to reflect, had they happened to say Yes:
--"Go into the Diplomatic line, then, you sharp climbing creature, and become great by that method; WRITE no more, you; write only Despatches and Spy-Letters henceforth!"--how different a world for us, and for all mortals that read and that do not read, there had now been!
Voltaire fancies he has done his Diplomacy well, not without fruit;and, at Brunswick,--cheered by the grand welcome he found there,--has delightful outlooks (might I dare to suggest them, Monseigneur?) of touring about in the German Courts, with some Circular HORTATORIUM, or sublime Begging-Letter from the Kaiser, in his hand; and, by witchery of tongue, urging Wurtemberg, Brunswick, Baireuth, Anspach, Berlin, to compliance with the Imperial Majesty and France. [Ib. lxxiii. 133.] Would not that be sublime! But that, like the rest, in spite of one's talent, came to nothing. Talent?
Success? Madame de Chateauroux had, in the interim, taken a dislike to M. Amelot; "could not bear his stammering," the fastidious Improper Female; flung Amelot overboard,--Amelot, and his luggage after him, Voltaire's diplomatic hopes included; and there was an end.
How ravishing the thing had been while it lasted, judge by these other stray symptoms; hastily picked up, partly at Berlin, partly at Brunswick; which show us the bright meridian, and also the blaze, almost still more radiant, which proved to be sunset.
Readers have heard of Voltaire's Madrigals to certain Princesses;and must read these Three again,--which are really incomparable in their kind; not equalled in graceful felicity even by Goethe, and by him alone of Poets approached in that respect. At Berlin, Autumn 1743, Three consummate Madrigals:--1. TO PRINCESS ULRIQUE.
"Souvent un peu de verite Se mele au plus grossier mensonge:
Cette nuit, dans l'erreur d'un songe, Au rang des rois j'etais monte.
Je vous aimais, Princesse, et j'osais vous le dire!
Les dieux a mon reveil ne m'ont pas tout ote, Je n'ai perdu que mon empire."2. TO PRINCESSES ULRIQUE AND AMELIA.
"Si Paris venait sur la terre Pour juger entre vos beaux yeux, Il couperait la pomme en deux, Et ne produirait pas de guerre."3. TO PRINCESSES ULRIQUE, AMELIA AND WILHELMINA.
"Pardon, charmante Ulrique; pardon, belle Amelie;J'ai cru n'aimer que vous la reste de ma vie, Et ne servir que sous vos lois;Mais enfin j'entends et je vois Cette adorable Soeur dont l'Amour suit les traces:
Ah, ce n'est pas outrager les Trois Graces Que de les aimer toutes trois!"[1. "A grain of truth is often mingled with the stupidest delusion.
Yesternight, in the error of a dream, I had risen to the rank of king; I loved you, Princess, and had the audacity to say so! The gods, at my awakening, did not strip me wholly; my kingdom was all they took from me."2. If Paris [of Troy] came back to decide on the charms of you Two, he would halve the Apple, and produce no War."3. "Pardon, charming Ulrique; beautiful Amelia, pardon: I thought Ishould love only you for the rest of my life, and serve under your laws only: but at last I hear and see this adorable Sister, whom Love follows as Page:--Ah, it is not offending the Three Graces to love them all three!"--In <italic> Oeuvres de Voltaire, <end italic> xviii.: No. 1 is, p. 292 (in <italic> OEuvres de Frederic, <end italic> xiv. 90-92, the ANSWERS to it); No. 2 is, p. 320; No. 3, p. 321.]
BRUNSWICK, 16th October (blazing sunset, as it proved, but brighter almost than meridian), a LETTER FROM VOLTAIRE TOMAUPERTUIS (still in France since that horrible Mollwitz-Pandour Business).
"In my wanderings I received the Letter where my dear Flattener of this Globe deigns to remember me with so much friendship. Is it possible that--... I made your compliments to all your friends at Berlin; that is, to all the Court." "Saw Dr. Eller decomposing water into elastic air [or thinking he did so, 1743]; saw the Opera of TITUS, which is a masterpiece of music [by Friedrich himself, with the important aid of Graun]: it was, without vanity, a treat the King gave me, or rather gave himself; he wished I should see him in his glory.
"His Opera-House is the finest in Europe. Charlottenburg is a delicious abode: Friedrich does the honors there, the King knowing nothing of it. ... One lives at Potsdam as in the Chateau of a French Seigneur who had culture and genius,--in spite of that big Battalion of Guards, which seems to me the terriblest Battalion in this world.