“Jealous!” said the king, folding his arms and walking backward and forward upon the terrace.  Suddenly he stood before D’Argens and laid his hands upon his shoulders.  “You are right,” said he; “a new day dawns, a new sun rises upon Sans-Souci, but I fear the sun’s bright face will be clouded and the day will end in storm.  Voltaire is the last ideal of my youth; God grant that I may not have to cast it aside with my other vain illusions!  God grant that the man Voltaire may not cast down the genius Voltaire from the altar which, with willing hands, I have erected for him in my heart of hearts.  I fear the cynic and the miser.  I have a presentiment of evil!  My altar will fall to pieces, and its ruins will crush my own heart.  Say what you will, D’Argens, I have still a heart, though the world has gnawed at and undermined it fearfully.”

“Yes, sire, a great, noble, warm heart,” cried D’Argens, deeply moved, “full of love and poetry, of magnanimity and mercy!”

“You must not betray these weaknesses to Voltaire,” said the king, laughing; “he would mock at me, and I should suffer from his poisonous satire, as I have done more than once.  Voltaire is miserly; that displeases me.  Covetousness is a rust which will obscure and at last destroy the finest metal!  The miser loves nothing but himself.  I fear that Voltaire comes to me simply for the salary I have promised him, and the four thousand thalers I have sent him for his journey!”

“In this, sire, you do both yourself and Voltaire injustice.  Voltaire is genial enough to look, not upon your crown, but upon the clear brow which it shades.  He admires and seeks you, not because you are a king, but because you are a great spirit, a hero, an author, a scholar, and a philosopher, and, best of all, a good and noble man.”

“What a simple-minded child yon are, marquis!” said Frederick, with a sad smile; “you believe even yet in the unselfish attachments of men.  Truly, you have a right to this rare faith; you, at least, are capable of such an affection.  I am vain enough to believe that you are unselfishly devoted to me.”

“God be thanked for this word!” said D’Argens, with a glowing countenance.  “And now let Voltaire and the seven wise men, and Father Abraham himself come; your Isaac fears none of them; my king has faith in me!”

“Yes,” said Frederick, “I believe in you; an evil and bitter thing will it be, if the day shall ever come when I shall doubt you; from that time onward I will trust no man.  I tell you, D’Argens, your kindly face and your love are necessary to me; I will use them as a shield to protect myself against the darts and wiles of the false world.  You must never leave me; I need your calm, kind eye, your happy smile, your childish simplicity, and your wise experience; I need a Pylades, I well believe that something of Orestes is hidden in my nature.  And now, my Pylades, swear to me, swear to me that you will never leave me; that from this hour you will have no other fatherland than Prussia, no other home than Potsdam and Sans-Souci.”