Huh. Now my Pleschinski Edition is back in the library, but upon discovering Catt's entry on Fritz showing him this letter comes shortly after Catt's entry quoting Voltaire's "best of all Worlds" letter, which I knew to be from mid 1759, I went and checked the Trier Version you've given us for autumn of 1759 letter, and until 1760, no such letter. Then I thought, maybe with the uncertainty of the mail, and Fritz keeping all of Voltaire's letters, this was in fact an earlier letter, despite him showing it to Catt later, and checked the first half of 1759 at Trier, but nope, if it exists, they don't have it uploaded. Also it's really easy to get distracted, because Voltaire and Fritz at this point in their relationship are really damn enjoyable to read, what with the needling and complimenting in perfect balance. Also, the stakes! Voltaire does still want peace and keeps trying some backstreet diplomacy even after Wilhelmine is gone.
Tonchin: Calvinist Swiss doctor, testifies Ferdinand is really really sick, will after Voltaire's death also testify Voltaire died in blood, shit and vomit and declaring himself to be in hell, which goes against everyone's else's descriptions. Oh, and for "Mastiff", read: Maupertuis. No, Voltaire still hasn't let that go. Also, that little animal parable at the end as a summing up of the Fritz/Voltaire relationship is so very Voltairian. Behold:
In whatever state you are, it is very sure that you are a great man. It is not to annoy your majesty that I write to him, it is to confess me, on condition that he will give me absolution. I betrayed you; here is the fact. You wrote me a letter half like Marcus Aurelius, your boss, half like Martial and Juvénal, your other boss. I first showed it to a little French minaudiere from the court of France, who came, like the others, to Geneva, to the temple of Aesculapius, to be cured by the great Tronchin, very great indeed, because he is six feet tall, beautiful and well made; and if Monsignor Prince Ferdinand, your brother, was a woman, he would come to be healed like the others. This minaudière is, as I think I said to M., the good friend of a certain duke, of a certain minister; she is very witty, and so is her friend. She was delighted, she kissed your letter, which would have made you worse, if you had been there. Send it immediately to my friend, she said; he loves you from his childhood, he admires the King of Prussia, he thinks nothing like the others, he sees clearly, he is real chivalry which unites spirit and arms. The lady says so much, that I copied your letter, cutting very honestly all the Martial and all the Juvenal, and faithfully leaving all the Marcus Aurelius, that is to say all your prose, in which however your Marcus Aurelius kicks us hard, and claims that we are ambitious. Alas! Sire, we are pleasant people for having ambition. Finally I cannot help but send you the answer that was given to me. I can betray a duke and peer, having betrayed a king; but, I implore you, do not pretend. Try, Sire, to decipher the writing. One can have a lot of spirit and very good feelings, and write like a cat. Sire, there used to be a lion and a rat; the rat was in love with the lion, and went to pay him court. The lion gave him a little kick. The rat went into the mousetrap, but he still loved the lion; and one day seeing a net that was being stretched out to catch and kill the lion, he gnawed at a mesh. Sire, the rat humbly kisses your beautiful claws in all humility; he will never die between two Capuchins as did a mastiff of Saint-Malo in Basel; he would have liked to die near his lion. Believe that the rat was more attached than the mastiff.
See, that's whyh he was Wihelmine's fave among her brother's boyfriends. Fritz, of course, spots the contradiction between Voltaire rooting for French/Prussian peace and still having it in for Maupertuis. Maybe that's what de Catt qualifies as "paternal"?:
Think that kings, after having fought for a long time, finally make peace; will you ever be able to do it? I believe that you, like Orpheus, would be able to descend to hell, not to weaken Pluto, not to bring back the beautiful Émilie, but to pursue in this den of pain an enemy whom your resentment has only too much persecuted in this world. Sacrifice your vengeance, or rather sacrifice it to your own reputation; may the greatest genius of France also be the most generous man of his nation. Virtue, your duty, speak to you through my mouth; do not be insensitive to it, and do an action worthy of the beautiful maxims that you deliver with so much elegance and strength in your works.
Re: Henri de Catt - or rather, Voltaire
Tonchin: Calvinist Swiss doctor, testifies Ferdinand is really really sick, will after Voltaire's death also testify Voltaire died in blood, shit and vomit and declaring himself to be in hell, which goes against everyone's else's descriptions. Oh, and for "Mastiff", read: Maupertuis. No, Voltaire still hasn't let that go. Also, that little animal parable at the end as a summing up of the Fritz/Voltaire relationship is so very Voltairian. Behold:
In whatever state you are, it is very sure that you are a great man. It is not to annoy your majesty that I write to him, it is to confess me, on condition that he will give me absolution. I betrayed you; here is the fact. You wrote me a letter half like Marcus Aurelius, your boss, half like Martial and Juvénal, your other boss. I first showed it to a little French minaudiere from the court of France, who came, like the others, to Geneva, to the temple of Aesculapius, to be cured by the great Tronchin, very great indeed, because he is six feet tall, beautiful and well made; and if Monsignor Prince Ferdinand, your brother, was a woman, he would come to be healed like the others. This minaudière is, as I think I said to M., the good friend of a certain duke, of a certain minister; she is very witty, and so is her friend. She was delighted, she kissed your letter, which would have made you worse, if you had been there. Send it immediately to my friend, she said; he loves you from his childhood, he admires the King of Prussia, he thinks nothing like the others, he sees clearly, he is real chivalry which unites spirit and arms. The lady says so much, that I copied your letter, cutting very honestly all the Martial and all the Juvenal, and faithfully leaving all the Marcus Aurelius, that is to say all your prose, in which however your Marcus Aurelius kicks us hard, and claims that we are ambitious. Alas! Sire, we are pleasant people for having ambition. Finally I cannot help but send you the answer that was given to me. I can betray a duke and peer, having betrayed a king; but, I implore you, do not pretend. Try, Sire, to decipher the writing. One can have a lot of spirit and very good feelings, and write like a cat.
Sire, there used to be a lion and a rat; the rat was in love with the lion, and went to pay him court. The lion gave him a little kick. The rat went into the mousetrap, but he still loved the lion; and one day seeing a net that was being stretched out to catch and kill the lion, he gnawed at a mesh. Sire, the rat humbly kisses your beautiful claws in all humility; he will never die between two Capuchins as did a mastiff of Saint-Malo in Basel; he would have liked to die near his lion. Believe that the rat was more attached than the mastiff.
See, that's whyh he was Wihelmine's fave among her brother's boyfriends. Fritz, of course, spots the contradiction between Voltaire rooting for French/Prussian peace and still having it in for Maupertuis. Maybe that's what de Catt qualifies as "paternal"?:
Think that kings, after having fought for a long time, finally make peace; will you ever be able to do it? I believe that you, like Orpheus, would be able to descend to hell, not to weaken Pluto, not to bring back the beautiful Émilie, but to pursue in this den of pain an enemy whom your resentment has only too much persecuted in this world. Sacrifice your vengeance, or rather sacrifice it to your own reputation; may the greatest genius of France also be the most generous man of his nation. Virtue, your duty, speak to you through my mouth; do not be insensitive to it, and do an action worthy of the beautiful maxims that you deliver with so much elegance and strength in your works.