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TO M. DE GERVASI, THE PHYSICIAN. * - 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 M. DE GERVASI, THE PHYSICIAN. * - 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]

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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 M. DE GERVASI, THE PHYSICIAN.*

You returned to Paris a physician renowned,
Those you cured of the plague your just praises resound;
Like Hippocrates’ self you restored the diseased,
And the pestilence’s rage by your art was appeased;
At Maisons, meantime, I lay on a sickbed,
And thought I should in a few moments be dead.
The grim king of terrors, relentless death,
Shook his terrible scythe, I was gasping for breath;
Old Charon pushed forward, with sail and with oar,
And I thought I should soon see the famed Stygian shore:
But like Æsculapius you came to my aid,
And death from his conqueror retreated dismayed.
Had you undertaken dear Genonville to cure,
He had from death’s direful attacks been secure;
He’d have lived, and I still had the pleasure enjoyed
Of his converse, with which I could never be cloyed,
And my eyes, which in death had been closed but for you,
Tears for a lost friend would not each day bedew.
To you and your care I own myself debtor,
That of my disease I have now got the better;
That now all my griefs and afflictions have end,
That I still am beloved, and I still love my friend;
Maisons, my physician, I shall now see once more,
Maisons, the physician, that cured me before;
Maisons, whose deep science surpasses his age,
Who rivals in medical skill the Greek sage.
I hope my last tragedy will not disgust
The virtuous Sully, as brave as he’s just;
That his generous heart may find it pleasure
To see me revived, and intent upon measure;
And that famed Mariamne’s distress may impart,
Some tender sensations to his generous heart.
You gardens of Villars, seats with bliss ever crowned,
’Twas there I again met the hero renowned;
Whom peace crowned with olive to his country brings,
Triumphant and joyous upon victory’s wings:
There I saw Richelieu gay, the delight of his age,
Whose wit and vivacity all men engage;
When Richelieu appears, all my misery ends,
He’ll soon reunite me to his amiable friends;
And thou Bolingbroke, by Apollo inspired,
As an orator, wit, and a statesman admired:
You to whom I so often have listened before,
I shall live and improve by your converse once more;
But what sad idea possesses my mind,
Shall my mistress, shall my charming mistress be kind?
Her image was strongly impressed on my heart,
When I thought I was ready from this world to depart;
Her virtues, her graces, and her charms divine,
The pleasures I tasted when I once called her mine,
In my last moments cherished my amorous fire,
And my heart’s love possessed when I thought to expire.
Can she then have forgot me, can she then prove unkind?
But wretch as I am, why so wanders my mind?
From death scarce escaped, can love still in my breast,
Be of all my affections and my reason possessed.

[* ] M. de Gervasi, a celebrated physician of Paris, had been sent to cure the plague, and at his return he cured the author of smallpox, at the castle of Maisons, six leagues from Paris, in 1723.