116
VOLTAIRE.
in abstract fashion the subject of Envy; and this "Discourse"[1] contains many keen personal allusions. It begins with the following passage, and ends with the next quoted, in which the reference to Desfontaines, Fréron, and the like venomous foes, is sufficiently apparent:—
"If man be free he should himself restrain,
If pressed by tyrants he should break the chain.
His vices are the despots of his breast,
Their fell dominion all too manifest.
Direst of these in its capricious hate,
The basest and the most inveterate,
Dealing with poisoned blade a coward blow,
Is Envy, of fair Fame the stealthy foe.
Though born of Pride, it dreads the light of day,
Admits nor mercy's touch nor reason's ray,
Feels others' merit as a burthen vast,
And sinks beneath: so lies, 'neath Etna cast,
The giant, foe of gods, whom gods o'ercame,
Hurling in vain the fires that round him flame.
Blaspheming, writhing, in his earth-pent lair,
He thinks to shake the world with his despair;
Etna's vast load, by his huge heavings stirred,
Again subsides, and holds him sepulchred,
Courtiers I've seen, with pride of fools elate,
On conquering Villars turn the eye of hate;
They loathed the powerful arm, their surest stay;
He fought for them, they sneered his fame away.
Well might the hero, as the war drew near,
Tell Louis, ''Tis Versailles alone I fear;
Against your foes a dauntless front I bring;
Guard me from mine, for they stand near my king,"
If pressed by tyrants he should break the chain.
His vices are the despots of his breast,
Their fell dominion all too manifest.
Direst of these in its capricious hate,
The basest and the most inveterate,
Dealing with poisoned blade a coward blow,
Is Envy, of fair Fame the stealthy foe.
Though born of Pride, it dreads the light of day,
Admits nor mercy's touch nor reason's ray,
Feels others' merit as a burthen vast,
And sinks beneath: so lies, 'neath Etna cast,
The giant, foe of gods, whom gods o'ercame,
Hurling in vain the fires that round him flame.
Blaspheming, writhing, in his earth-pent lair,
He thinks to shake the world with his despair;
Etna's vast load, by his huge heavings stirred,
Again subsides, and holds him sepulchred,
Courtiers I've seen, with pride of fools elate,
On conquering Villars turn the eye of hate;
They loathed the powerful arm, their surest stay;
He fought for them, they sneered his fame away.
Well might the hero, as the war drew near,
Tell Louis, ''Tis Versailles alone I fear;
Against your foes a dauntless front I bring;
Guard me from mine, for they stand near my king,"
- ↑ The measure of the poem is, like that of the "'Henriade," rhymed Alexandrines, which are here rendered in the ten-syllable lines of the "Essay on Man."
