Golden Lion at
Frankfurt, where rooms have been ordered; Freytag well aware, though he
says nothing.

FRIDAY MORNING, JUNE 1st) "his Excellency and Suite" (Voltaire and
Collini) have their horses harnessed, carriage out, and are about taking
the road again,--when Freytag, escorted by a Dr. Rucker, "Frankfurt
Magistrate DE MAUVAISE MINE," [Collini, p. 77.] and a Prussian
recruiting Lieutenant, presents himself in Voltaire's apartment! Readers
know Voltaire's account and MonSIR Collini's; and may now hear Freytag's
own, which is painted from fact:--

"Introductory civilities done (NACH GEMACHTEN POLITESSEN), I made him
acquainted with the will of your most All-gracious Majesty. He was much
astonished (BESTURZT," no wonder); "he shut his eyes, and flung himself
back in his chair." [Varnhagen, p. 16.] Calls in his friend Collini,
whom, at first, I had requested to withdraw. Two coffers are produced,
and opened, by Collini; visitation, punctual, long and painful, lasted
from nine A.M. till five P.M. Packets are made,--a great many
Papers, "and one Poem which he was unwilling to quit" (perilous LA
PUCELLE);--inventories are drawn, duly signed. Packets are signeted,
mutually sealed, Rucker claps on the Town-seal first, Freytag and
Voltaire following with theirs. "He made thousand protestations of his
fidelity to your Majesty; became pretty weak [like fainting, think you,
Herr Resident?], and indeed he looks like a skeleton.--We then made
demand of the Book, OEUVRE DE POESIES: That, he said, was in the Big
Case; and he knew not whether at Leipzig or Hamburg" (knew very well
where it was); and finding nothing else would do, wrote for it, showing
Freytag the Letter; and engaged, on his word of honor, not to stir hence
till it arrived.

Upon which,--what is farther to be noted, though all seems now
settled,--Freytag, at Voltaire's earnest entreaty, "for behoof of
Madame Denis, a beloved Niece, Monsieur, who is waiting for me hourly at
Strasburg, whom such fright might be the death of!"--puts on paper a few
words (the few which Voltaire has twisted into "MonSIR," "PoesHies"
and so forth), to the effect, "That whenever the OEUVRE comes, Voltaire
shall actually have leave to go." And so, after eight hours, labor (nine
A.M. to five P.M.), everything is hushed again. Voltaire, much shocked
and astonished, poor soul, "sits quietly down to his ANNALES" (says
Collini),--to working, more or less; a resource he often flies to, in
such c