“My duty is my religion. My God is the Providence which guides the destinies of the nations but leaves individuals to themselves! What are men that you should take notice of these ants?”
The conversation was interrupted by a person who appeared in the background and resembled a judicial official. Voltaire saw who it was, and became furious: “Your Majesty, how can you allow this rag-tag and bob-tail to enter the castle-park? Why do you not enclose it with iron gates and railings?”
“No,” answered the King; “I am not the master of my own person, still less of this castle, but all have rights over me!”
“But this is atrocious! Can I not drive him away?”
“No, you cannot!”
The King beckoned, and the stranger approached with his hat in his hand.
“What do you want, my friend?” asked the King.
“Only to deliver a document to Monsieur Voltaire, your Majesty.”
“Then do your duty.”
The man handed the document to Voltaire, and retired. When the old man had opened and read it, he fell on his knees before the King and exclaimed, “Save me, sire!”