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Had got, before long, not through Friedrich's influence at Paris, some small Appointment in the ECOLE MILITAIRE there. He is, of all the Frenchmen Friedrich had about him, with the exception of D'Argens alone, the most honest-hearted.
On leaving Nimes I resolved to spend the carnival at Aix, where the nobility is of the most distinguished character. I believe I lodged at the "Three Dolphins," where I found a Spanish cardinal on his way to Rome to elect a successor to Pope Rezzonico. My Stay at Aix; I Fall Ill I am Cared for By an Unknown Lady The Marquis d'Argens Cagliostro
His utterances to D'Argens, about this time and onward, brief hints, spontaneous, almost unconscious, give curious testimony of his glooms and moody humors. Of which the reader shall see something. For the present, he is in deep indignation with his poor Troops, among other miseries.
Neither the bust of Voltaire, with its beaming, intelligent face, nor those of his friends, Lord-Marshal Keith and the Marquis d'Argens, could win an affectionate glance from the lonely old king.
He covered his face he would not be looked at in his grief. D'Argens heard him murmur, "My mother, oh my mother! Oh, my sister!" The Prussians welcomed joyously the return of their great king, but Frederick thought only at this moment of those who could never return those whom death had torn from him forever. Onward, onward through the lighted streets!
The remembrance of them unnerved him, and filled his heart with grief. The experiences of life, and the ingratitude of men, had left many a scar upon this royal heart, but had never hardened it; it was still overflowing with tender sympathy and cherished memories. To Lord-Marshal Keith, Marquis d'Argens, and Voltaire, Frederick owed the happiest years of his life.
D'Arnaud and D'Argens, Guichard and La Métrie, might, for the sake of a morsel of bread, be willing to bear the insolence of a master; but Voltaire was of another order.
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. "Because I was foolish enough to write the truth.
D'Argen's eyes were filled with tears. "Oh, sire! may this marble lie immovable, and the grave beneath it be a mystery for many long years!" The king shook his head lightly, and a heavenly peace was written on his features. "Why do you wish that?" said he. "Sans souci!" repeated D'Argens, in low tones, deeply moved, and staring at the vault. The king took his hand smilingly.
No one would have dared to speak a word for the refractory citizens and authorities of Leipsic to the king, nor act in direct contravention to his express orders. Even the Marquis d'Argens, his intimate friend and confidant, had refused to be the advocate of the unfortunate town. It seemed to be lost, without hope of redemption, and already it had been threatened with the extreme of severity.