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Updated: May 28, 2025
After her return to Venice she married the son of the Uccelli, who sixteen years before had taken her out of her poverty. She died ten years ago. I was still taking my French lessons with my good old Crebillon; yet my style, which was full of Italianisms, often expressed the very reverse of what I meant to say.
He praised the talent of Voltaire very highly, but he accused him of having stolen from him, Crebillon, the scene of the senate.
"You offer us a splendid alliance!" said the duchess with anger. "I offer nothing, madame: I only inquire. For my part, I see no legitimate motive for this proscription of madame du Barry." "A woman without character!" "Character! Why, madame, who has any in these days? M. de Crebillon the younger would be at a loss to tell us where to find it."
It was not so, however; he contradicted me sharply, and I closed with him. "Chapelain," said I, "has the merit of having rendered his subject-matter pleasant, without pandering to the tastes of his readers by saying things shocking to modesty and piety. So thinks my master Crebillon:" "Crebillon! You cite a weighty authority. But how is my friend Crebillon your master, may I ask?"
Pomeroy fetched pen and paper from a table in one of the windows; where they lay along with one or two odd volumes of Crebillon, a tattered Hoyle on whist, and Foote's jest book. A note was written and handed over, and the two rose. Mr.
Mighty Mars has turned a priest the Duc de Clermont, abbe of St. Germain-des-pres." Crebillon, who was not the sort of man to conceal his writings, told the Duc de Choiseul that he had written some verses exactly like these, but that it was possible the prisoner had been inspired with precisely the same ideas. This jest was applauded, and the author of "The Sofa" was let alone.
But, sire, when you read it, you must swear to me to read it in the same spirit in which it is written. I have left to my collegian Crebillon all his dramatic plunder; his Catiline is a pure fiction. I have written mine, remembering my province as an historian. Rome is my heroine; she is the mistress for whom I would interest all Europe.
Why does VOLTAIRE continually detract from the sublimity of Corneille, the sweetness of Racine, and the fire of Crébillon? Why did DRYDEN never speak of OTWAY with kindness but when in his grave, then acknowledging that Otway excelled him in the pathetic? Why did LEIBNITZ speak slightingly of LOCKE's Essay, and meditate on nothing less than the complete overthrow of NEWTON'S system?
Dead CATILINA of Crebillon into ROME SAUVEE of Voltaire, and the other samples of dead into living, that stupid old Crebillon himself and the whole Universe may judge, and even Pompadour feel a remorse! Readers shall fancy these things; and that the world is coming back to its old poor drab color with M. de Voltaire; his divine Emilie and he rubbing along on the old confused terms.
These certainly are singular ideas to assign to the gods, and a most unexampled punishment for a slight, nay, even a noble crime. The accidental and unintentional stabbing of Clytemnestra was borrowed from Crebillon. A French writer will hardly venture to represent this subject with mythological truth; to describe, for instance, the murder as intentional, and executed by the command of the gods.
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