The
philosopher apologized in a hollow voice, interrupted by occasional fits
of coughing; he was ill _bien malade_, could not get up, begged the
stranger to be seated, asked questions about the countries he had
visited, made him tell his adventures, those of gallantry particularly,
and was himself most facetious, and most profanely witty. The Hungarian
delighted, and far more at ease than he had imagined possible, casting a
glance on the papers, ventured to inquire what new work? "Ah,
nothing!"--_le faible Enfant de ma Vieillesse--a tragedy_. "May I ask
the subject?" "The subject is wholly Genevan," replied Voltaire, "the
name, _Empro-Giro_, and the dramatis personae _Carin-Caro, Dupins-Simon_,
and _Carcail Briffon, &c_." He then began to repeat, with great
animation, a number of passages, to which his visitor listened in
perfect raptures, but drew, meanwhile, a snuff-box from his pocket, and
began to look attentively on him and on a picture on the lid; thus
confronted with a portrait of Voltaire, and compared face to face, was a
trial for which our mimic was not prepared, and his courage nearly
forsook him, yet he kept up appearances, only coughing more, and ranting
on the high-sounding lines of his _Empro-Giro_.
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