With Voltaire | Page 9

little distance where he introduced me to three young ladies,
who, without being precisely beautiful, were certainly ravishing. Two
of them were sisters. I had an easy and pleasant welcome, and from
their intellectual appearance and gay manners I anticipated a delightful
evening, and I was not disappointed. The half hour before supper was
passed in conversation, decent but without restraint, and during supper,
from the hints the syndic gave me, I guessed what would happen after
dessert.
It was a hot evening, and on the pretext of cooling ourselves, we
undressed so as to be almost in a state of nature. What an orgy we had!
I am sorry I am obliged to draw a veil over the most exciting details. In
the midst of our licentious gaiety, whilst we were heated by love,
champagne, and a discourse of an exciting nature, I proposed to recite
Grecourt's 'Y Gyec'. When I had finished the voluptuous poem, worthy
of an abbe's pen, I saw that the eyes of the three beauties were all
aflame, and said,--
"Ladies, if you like, I will shew you all three, one after the other, why
the sentence, 'Gaudeant bene nati', was uttered"; and without waiting
for their reply, I succeeded in making them happy. The syndic was
radiant, he was pleased at having given me a present entirely to my
taste; and I fancied that the entertainment was not displeasing to the
three Graces, who were kept low by the Sybarite, as his powers were
almost limited to desires. The girls lavished their thanks on me, while I
endeavoured to assure them of my gratitude; but they leapt for joy
when they heard the syndic asking me to come next day.
As he was taking me back to my inn I told him how great a pleasure he
had given me, and he said he had brought up the three jewels himself.

"You," he added, "are the only man besides myself they know. You
shall see them again, but I beg you will take care not to leave anything
behind you, for in this town of prejudices that would be a great
misfortune for them and for me."
"You are always moderate in your enjoyment, then?" I said to him.
"Unfortunately, that is no merit as far as I am concerned. I was born for
the service of love, and Venus has punished me for worshipping her
when I was too young."
After a good night's sleep I awoke in an active mood, and began to
write a letter to Voltaire in blank verse, which cost me four times the
pains that rhymed verses would have done. I sent it to him with the
poem of Theophile Falengue, but I made a mistake in doing so, as I
might have known he would not care for it; one cannot appreciate what
one does not understand. I then went to Mr. Fox, where I found the two
Englishmen who offered me my revenge. I lost a hundred Louis, and
was glad to see them set out for Lausanne.
The syndic had told me that the three young ladies belonged to
respectable families, but were not rich. I puzzled my head to think of
some useful present I might make them without offending them, and at
last I hit on a plan of the most ridiculous nature, as the reader will see. I
went to a jeweller and told him to make me three golden balls, each of
two ounces in weight.
At noon I went to M. de Voltaire's. He was not to be seen, but Madame
Denis consoled me for his absence. She had wit, learning without
pretension, taste, and a great hatred for the King of Prussia, whom she
called a villain. She asked about my beautiful housekeeper, and
congratulated me on having married her to a respectable man. Although
I feel now that she was quite right, I was far from thinking so then; the
impression was too fresh on my mind. Madame Denis begged me to
tell her how I had escaped from The Leads, but as the story was rather a
long one I promised to satisfy her another time.
M. de Voltaire did not dine with us; he appeared, however, at five

o'clock, holding a letter in his hand.
"Do you know," said he, "the Marquis Albergati Capacelli, senator of
Bologna, and Count Paradisi?"
"I do not know Paradisi, but I know Albergati by sight and by
reputation; he is not a senator, but one of the Forty, who at Bologna are
Fifty."
"Dear me! That seems rather a riddle!"
"Do you know him?"
"No, but he has sent me Goldoni's 'Theatre,' the translation of my
Tancred, and some Bologna sausages, and he says he will come and see
me."
"He