too well-known to
need comment, and the same may be said of the Duc de Noailles, Marshal
Boufflers, Monsieur d'Argental, and others then at Chambord. As for
beauty, combined with wit, Francezka Capello led all the ladies, but
there were other gifted ones. Even Madame du Chatelet, in spite of her
everlasting algebra and Newton's Principia, was not an ill-looking
woman. Madame Villars and Madame Fontange were charming. The presence
of these ladies and others, all remarkable for spirit, was ever after
alleged as the reason for the disappearance of the celebrated pane of
glass, in one of the windows of the yellow saloon which was used as
the theater.

On this window pane Francis the First had scratched this ungallant
distich:

Toute femme varie,
Mal habile qui s'y fie.

One night, Monsieur Voltaire read this aloud, and kept the whole
saloon in a roar over his idea of what Francis the First would have
said were he to come to life then. His tirade was interrupted by
Francezka and Madame Villars seizing him, blindfolding and tying him
with their scarfs and putting him for punishment into a sort of
improvised stocks. In vain Monsieur Voltaire called upon the gentlemen
to assist him; he was left helpless in the hands of the ladies, who
maltreated him severely. Monsieur Voltaire's evident enjoyment of his
punishment at the hands of these captivating creatures brought about
one of those domestic tempests which frequently disturbed the
atmosphere of Cirey and of the "Petit Palais" on the isle of St.
Louis.

It was said that in the heat of the discussion next morning about it,
Madame du Chatelet threw Newton's Principia at Monsieur Voltaire's
head, and he made a narrow miss by dodging. Certain it is, they had
high words, and Madame du Chatelet in a huff left the castle some days
before Monsieur Voltaire; and it was noted that he seemed much gayer
and more gallant after the lady's departure than before.

Meanwhile, the pane of glass mysteriously disappeared. I have no doubt
it was accidentally broken by one of those little rogues of pages of
honor, who was afraid to acknowledge his fault; but Monsieur Voltaire
chose to put it on the ladies in general and on Francezka in
particular, and there was great sport and much wit over the matter.
Francezka was the gayest, the airiest, the most daring of the ladies;
she never more said a single word to me concerning that misery which
she ha