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TO MARSHAL VILLARS. * - The Works of Voltaire, Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems).

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TO MARSHAL VILLARS. * - Voltaire, The Works of Voltaire, Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems). [1901]

Edition used:

From The Works of Voltaire, A Contemporary Version, (New York: E.R. DuMont, 1901), A Critique and Biography by John Morley, notes by Tobias Smollett, trans. William F. Fleming. Vol. X The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Zaire, Caesar, The Prodigal, Prefaces) and Part II (The Lisbon Earthquake and Other Poems).

Author: Voltaire
Translator: William F. Fleming
Notes: Tobias Smollett

Part of: The Works of Voltaire. A Contemporary Version, in 21 vols.

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TO MARSHAL VILLARS.*

’Tis true, I had some hopes of late
Of tasting at your country seat,
Social enjoyment, sweet repose;
But Vinache does my views oppose;
So for a mere quack I neglected
A hero by all France respected.
I may offend by what I’ve said,
And should not speak of fear or dread,
To him who ne’er thought life worth care,
But instant death sought everywhere.
Do not into a passion fly,
And you shall hear the reason why.
You well may risk your life; but I
Have no great cause to wish to die;
For should you in your glorious course
Fall by some ball’s resistless force,
Conveyed to Pluto’s dreary coast,
What consolations wait your ghost!
With transport it would hear related,
How men your funeral celebrated;
Mass on the occasion had been said,
In honor of the illustrious dead;
And some dull prelate to the crowd
Had trumpeted your praise aloud,
In a discourse, not written by him,
But bought, or people much belie him.
Then at St. Denis’ church in state
You’d be interred amongst the great.
But should poor I, nor great nor brave,
With Charon pass the Stygian wave,
I without pomp would be conveyed;
On a vile bier my body laid,
Two priests would to the churchyard bear,
And lay it in some corner there.
My nieces, and my worthy brother,
Who for Jansenius makes such pother,
Would laugh to see me laid in earth;
My burial would excite their mirth:
And all the honor ever paid
On earth to my departed shade,
Would be some epitaph severe,
Composed my memory to tear.
From what has then been said ’tis plain,
That I should longer here remain,
Those deeds of high renown to view,
Which yet shall be achieved by you.

[* ] Written in 1721.