"In two months, sire!" said he, shaking his head. "I fear I shall not be here. I have only come to sun myself for a few happy days in your presence." "And then?" said Frederick, interrupting him. "Then I must fulfil one of the darling dreams of my whole life. I must go to Italy, to the holy city of Rome, and kneel upon the graves of Cicero and Caesar. I must see St. Peter's, the Venus de Medici, and the pope." "You will never go to Rome," said Frederick. "The Holy Father will not have the happiness of converting the blasphemous Saul into the pious and believing Paul. You will remain in Berlin; if you do not yield willingly, I must compel you to yield. I will make you my subject; I will bind you with orders and titles; I will compel you to accept a salary from me; and then, should they seek to ravish you from me, I will have a right to withhold you from all the potentates of the world." Voltaire's face was again radiant. "Ah! sire, no power or chains will be necessary to bind me here; your majesty's command alone would suffice." "And your duty! My gentleman of the bedchamber dare not withdraw himself for a single day without my permission. I make you gentleman of the bedchamber. I lay the ribbon of my order, 'pour le merite,' around your neck, and that I may always have a rope around you, and make you completely my prisoner, I give you an apartment in my palace at Potsdam; and that you may not feel yourself a hermit, you will have every day six covers laid for your friends; and to mock you with the appearance of liberty, you shall have your own equipage and servants, who will obey you in all things with one exception--if you order your valet to pack up your effects, and your coachman to take the road to Paris, they will disobey." Voltaire heard the words of the king with breathless attention. Sullen suspicion and discontent were written on his face. This did not, escape the king; he understood the cause, but he said nothing. Voltaire exhausted himself in words of joy and gratitude, but they had not the ring of truth, and the joy which his lips expressed found no echo in his face. "I have but one other thing to add," said Frederick, at last. "Can your greatness pardon a poor earthworm, if he dare speak in your presence of so common and villanous a thing as money?" Voltaire's eyes sparkled; the subject of conversation did not seem disagreeable to him. "You have relinquished a pension of six thousand livres in France, It is but just that you receive full compensation. Your great spirit is certainly above all earthly considerations, but our fleshy existence has its rights. So long as you are with me, you shall not be troubled by even a shadow of privation. You will therefore receive a salary of five thousand thalers from me. Your lodging and your table cost you nothing, and I think you can be very comfortable." Voltaire's heart bounded for joy, but he forced himself to seem calm and indifferent.