After a while the old man called his friend back: "Come, Abbe, come!
You must hear something!"
The Abbe, who, for the sake of his flock, kept on good terms with
Voltaire, and humoured his whims, without, however, yielding to him
in theological discussions, came at the summons.
"You must hear a letter from Frederick the Great, the Unique, the
Incomparable. He has pardoned me, and I am ashamed. My last evening
in Sans-Souci I was irritated, and in my cruelty I was mean enough
to remind him of his father's stick. The moment that the word
escaped, I felt his retort in the air, but he restrained it. He had
only needed to return the thrust with a reference to the stick which
had played a certain part in my youth, but he kept silent, whether
out of regard for my years or for some other reason. (It is
remarkable that the stick has also had an influence on the
development of the great Shakespeare and others.) Excuse, Abbe, this
_garrulitas senilis_--he has pardoned me, and writes, 'My old
friend!'
"'The years have passed; to the seven good years which you shared
with me succeeded the seven lean ones--the Seven Years' War and all
that it brought with it. Friends have departed, and a great
loneliness enfolds the ageing man, who now, among other things,
begins to be far-sighted, after being formerly short-sighted.
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