He was at a distance, judged unfavorably of
me, and thought he could scourge me without compromising himself.
It was comte Jean who brought me these verses, in which there was
less poetry than malevolence. I read them, was indignant, and
wept. The duc d'Aiguillon came, and finding me in tears, inquired
the cause.
"Here," said I, giving him the poem, "see if you can bear so gross
an insult." He took the paper, cast his eyes over it, and having
folded it up, put it into his pocket.
"It was ill done," said he, "to show this to you. I knew of it
yesterday, and came now to talk with you of it."
"I rely on you to do me justice."
"
" cried the duke, "would you lose yourself in the
eyes of all France? You would place yourself in a fine situation
by declaring yourself the persecutrix of Voltaire. Only an enemy
could have thus advised you."
"That enemy was comte Jean."
"Then your imprudence equals your zeal. Do you not perceive the
advantage it would give to your adversaries were we to act in
this manner? To the hatred of the court would be united that of
the , women, and young persons. Voltaire is a god, who
is not to be smitten without sacrilege."
"Must I then tamely submit to be beaten?"
"Yes, for the moment. But it will not last long; I have just
written this letter to M. de Voltaire, that peace may be made
between you:--
"SIR,--The superiority of your genius places you
amongst the number of the potentates of Europe.
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