The next day the couple left Aix. In ten years I saw them again under the name of Count and Countess Pellegrini.
At the present period he is in a prison which he will probably never leave, and his wife is happy, maybe, in a convent.
CHAPTER X
My Departure—Letter from Henriette—Marsellies—History of
Nina—Nice—Turin—Lugano—Madame De****
As soon as I had regained my usual strength, I went to take leave of the Marquis d’Argens and his brother. I dined with them, pretending not to observe the presence of the Jesuit, and I then spent three delightful hours in conversation with the learned and amiable Marquis d’Argens. He told me a number of interesting anecdotes about the private life of Frederick II. No doubt the reader would like to have them, but I lack the energy to set them down. Perhaps some other day when the mists about Dux have dispersed, and some rays of the sun shine in upon me, I shall commit all these anecdotes to paper, but now I have not the courage to do so.
Frederick had his good and his bad qualities, like all great men, but when every deduction on the score of his failings has been made, he still remains the noblest figure in the eighteenth century.
The King of Sweden, who has been assassinated, loved to excite hatred that he might have the glory of defying it to do its worst. He was a despot at heart, and he came to a despot’s end. He might have foreseen a violent death, for throughout his life he was always provoking men to the point of despair. There can be no comparison between him and Frederick.
The Marquis d’Argens made me a present of all his works, and on my asking him if I could congratulate myself on possessing the whole number, he said yes, with the exception of a fragment of autobiography which he had written in his youth, and which he had afterwards suppressed.
“Why so?” I asked.