Such another actor, with a difference, was Voltaire. As Voltaire himself said of the Duchess of Maine, “Elle aimera la comédie jusqu’au dernier moment, et, quand elle sera malade, je vous conseille de lui administrer quelque belle pièce,” etc., etc.,—so of the mocking philosopher of Ferney, playing his many parts, it has been said, that he had a genius for transformations, having always more than one rôle to play in the comedy of life—which diversity of rôles jumped with his humour, and just hit the mobile preferences of a man who so early in his existence turned player. The life of Voltaire is a comedy, says Sainte-Beuve: his correspondence with D’Alembert shows us the coulisses and background—and lets us in to damaging and disenchanting revelations behind the scenes. Elsewhere he may be seen to fret and strut his hour upon the stage, carefully made up, and all in point device costume; but here we have him in undress, and by dusty daylight, and off his guard.
Tous les comédiens ne sont pas du théâtre, is rightly reckoned one of the prettiest provérbes of M. Théodore Leclerc. In the Proverbe which bears that pregnant title, a nephew incidentally tells his uncle, “Vous qui êtes un homme du monde, vous appelez cela l’esprit du monde; moi qui suis un comédien, j’appelle cela de la comédie. C’est toujours la même chose, sous un nom différent.” The salon and the stage are on a level. To be a real man of the world, is to be an actor of the first class.
M. Scribe puts the proverb as a practical epigram into the mouth of old Michonnet, when trying to soothe and inspirit his pet pupil for the stage: “Calme toi et étudie; ... il y a dans le monde de plus grands comédiens que nous!”
Indeed, according to Chamfort, there is no choice in the matter; every man, however wise and unsophisticated and open-hearted, must, sooner or later, turn actor, on this great stage of fools. For, “la fortune et le costume qui l’entourent font de la vie une représentation au milieu de laquelle il faut qu’à la longue l’homme le plus honnête devienne comédien malgré lui.” We are all actors and actresses, says one of Miss Eden’s characters, and “none of us quite up to our parts, though we act all day long.” Not that every one plays just the part he or she would have chosen. The distribution of rôles would seem often to make this a mad world, my masters.
“Le monde, à mon avis, est comme un grand théâtre,
Où chacun en public, l’un par l’autre abusé,
Souvent à ce qu’il est, joue un rôle opposé.”
This, one might almost paraphrase in the words of John Webster’s wobegone Duchess Mariana:
“I account this world a tedious theatre,
For I do play a part in’t ’gainst my will.”