"But, gracious sir," stammered the servant, "some of the most distinguished men of the court and the oldest generals, are there!"
"What do I care for their epaulets or their excellencies? Let them wait, or go to the devil—if they prefer it."
Well, the eminent gentlemen waited; indeed, they waited patiently, until the great Voltaire, the favorite of the king, the universal French author, in his pride and arrogance was graciously pleased to show himself amongst the Dutch barbarians, and allow some rays of his intellect to fall upon and inspire them!
The saloon was indeed crowded with princes, generals, and nobles. Voltaire had just returned to Berlin from Potsdam, and all hastened to pay their respects and commend themselves to his grace and favor. [Footnote: Forney writes thus in his "Memoirs": "During the winter months which Voltaire spent in the palace of Berlin, he was the favorite of the court. Princes, ambassadors, ministers, generals, nobles of the highest rank went to his morning receptions, and were often received by him with contemptuous scorn. A great prince was pleased to play chess with him, and allowed him every time to win the stake of two louis d'or. It was declared, however, that sometimes the gold disappeared before the end of the game, and could not be found."—"Souvenirs d'un Citoyen.">[
Voltaire was very gracious this morning. As he was to play the part of improvisator that night, he thought it politic to make favor with all those who would be present. He hoped that all the world would thunder out their enraptured applause, and that Maupertius, D'Argens, Algarotti, La Mettrie, and all other friends of the king, would be filled with envy and rage. He smiled, therefore, benignantly, and had kind and flattering words for all. His bon-mots and piquant witticisms seemed inexhaustible.
Suddenly his servant drew near, and said it was necessary to speak to him on a matter of great importance. Voltaire turned with a winning smile to his guests, and, praying them to wait for his return, entered his private room.
"Well, Tripot, what have you to say that is important?"
"Gracious sir, the court is in mourning."
Voltaire looked at him enraged. "Fool! what is that to me?"
"It is of the utmost importance to you, sir, if you are going this evening to the soiree of the queen-mother."