Voltaire, in the meantime, was not slow in reply; and as I imagine
that you will not be sorry to read his letter, I transcribe it for you:--
"MONSIEUR LE DUC,-- I am a lost, destroyed man. If I
had strength enough to fly, I do not know where I
should find courage to take refuge. I! Good God! I
am suspected of having attacked that which, in common
with all France, I respect! When there only remains to
me the smallest power of utterance, but enough to chant
a
that I should employ it in howling at
the most lovely and amiable of females! Believe me,
monsieur le duc, that it is not at the moment when a
man is about to render up his soul, that a man of my
good feeling would outrage the divinity whom he adores.
"No, I am not the author of the ''
The verses of this rhapsody are not worth much, it is
true; but indeed they are not mine: they are too
miserable, and of too bad a style. All this vile trash
spread abroad in my name, all those pamphlets without
talent, make me lose my senses, and now I have scarcely
enough left to defend myself with. It is on you,
monsieur le duc, that I rely; do not refuse to be the
advocate of an unfortunate man unjustly accused.
Condescend to say to this young lady, that I have
been before embroiled with madame de Pompadour,
for whom I professed the highest esteem; tell her, that
at the present day especially, the favorite of Caesar is
sacred for me; that my heart and pen are hers, and
that I only aspire to live and die under her banner.
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