LETTER LXXIV.

Potsdam.

We have been here about a fortnight. His Majesty arrived at the new palace of Sans-Souci about the same time that we came to Potsdam. The Princess Amelia, who is mistress of the ceremonies, was there to receive him. The company I formerly mentioned are all lodged in the palace, I will give you a short sketch of what has passed.

There has been a theatrical entertainment every second or third day. His Grace and I attend at Sans-Souci on these days only. We drive from Potsdam about five in the evening. The company assemble in one of the apartments of the palace about that time, and walk to the playhouse a little before six. The theatre is very well contrived for the accommodation of a small audience. There are neither boxes nor pit; but semicircular benches in the front of the stage. The foremost bench is upon the floor; the others rise gradually behind, that all the spectators may see equally well.

A few minutes after the company are placed, the Royal Family arrive. The Princess Amelia is led in by Prince Frederick of Brunswick, and the Princess of Hesse by the King. The Duchess of Wurtemberg, and the other Princesses, are led in after; they, and the ladies their attendants, sit in the first rows. The King generally seats himself in the third or fourth. The piece then begins, and is usually finished about nine, after which all the company return to the large apartment, where the King remains conversing in a familiar manner till supper is ready. He then retires, and goes to bed at ten.

Those whom the Princess Amelia orders to be invited, stay to supper; and there is generally a pretty numerous company.—We have been at this repast three or four times, and usually get to our lodgings at Potsdam about midnight.

Hitherto there have been no comedies acted, and I understand there are to be none, because Le Kain never acts in comedy; and for another reason, which is equivalent to a thousand,—his Majesty loves tragedy better.

Le Kain has already appeared in some of his principal characters.—You need not doubt of his exerting all his powers before such an audience.—I might have said, such an auditor. The King seemed pleased with his acting, and of consequence the courtiers were in raptures, and vied with each other who should praise him most.

The tragedy of Oedipus is his Majesty’s favourite piece. This has been represented twice, and he seemed to enjoy it very much on both occasions; particularly when the following speech against priests was pronounced:

Tandis que par vos soins vous pouvez tout apprendre,

Quel besoin que le Ciel ici se fasse entendre?

Ces Dieux, dont le pontife a promis le secours,

Dans leus temples, Seigneur, n’habitent pas toujours;

On ne voit point leur bras si prodigue en miracles;

Ces antres, ces trépieds, qui rendent leurs oracles,

Ces organes d’airain que nos mains ont formés,

Toujours d’un souffle pur ne sont point animés.

Ne nous endormons point sur la foi de leurs prêtres;

Au pied du sanctuaire il est souvent des traîtres,

Qui nous asservissant sous un pouvoir sacré,

Font parler les destins, les font taire à leur gré.

Voyez, examinez, avec un soin extrême,

Philoctète, Phorbas, & Jocaste elle-même.

Ne nous fions qu’à nous, voyons tout par nos yeux,

Ce sont là nos trépieds, nos oracles, nos Dieux.

And afterwards, when Jocasta pours forth another tirade of the same kind, which terminates with these lines:

Nos Prêtres ne sont point ce qu’un vain peuple pense;

Notre crédulité fait toute leur science.

I happened to sit next to the Abbé Bastiani, and, while the actress spoke this, the king started up, coughed, and laughed, with very significant gestures, to the ecclesiastic.

But though these passages, and some others, seem at first sight to be severe against priests, the tragedy of Oedipus, upon the whole, does them great honour. For all that is said against them, turns out to be unjust, and it appears that the oracle, which had been treated in such severe terms, was true, and that the high priest had acted throughout like an honest and virtuous man. It surprises me, therefore, that Voltaire should have taken the plot of his play from the Greek tragedy on this subject, which has constrained him, like Balaam the son of Barak, to do honour to those whom he would have been better pleased to have cursed.—And the King on his part (if I may presume to say it) could not have pitched upon a tragedy less à-propos, if his intention was to turn the clergy into ridicule.

I have no objection to this piece, on account of the honour done to the clergy; because I cannot help forming an opinion of men from my own experience: And I have known so many good men of that profession, that I should respect it on their account, exclusive of other reasons.

But I own I have the misfortune not to follow this great monarch, and many other respectable critics, in their admiration of the tragedy of Oedipus.—The fable, in my poor opinion, is too horrible.—The circumstance of Oedipus being married to his mother, and having children by her, is highly disgusting; and the idea it gives of Providence and the conduct of the gods, cannot have a good effect on the mind. Nothing could be more unjust, than that Heaven should send a plague among the inhabitants of Thebes, and pour such vengeance on poor Oedipus and Jocasta, for crimes of which it knew them to be innocent. We cannot help admitting the justice of Oedipus’s reproaches against the gods, when he says,

Le voilà donc rempli cet oracle exécrable,

Dont ma crainte a pressé l’effet inévitable:

Et je me vois enfin, par un mélange affreux,

Inceste, & parricide, & pourtant vertueux.

Miserable vertu, nom stérile & funeste,

Toi par qui j’ai réglé des jours que je déteste,

A mon noir ascendant tu n’as pû resister:

Je tombais dans le piége, en voulant l’éviter.

Un dieu plus fort que moi m’entraînait vers le crime;

Sous mes pas fugitifs il creusait un abîme;

Et j’etais, malgré moi, dans mon aveuglement,

D’un pouvoir inconnu l’esclave & l’instrument.

Voilà tous mes forfaits, je n’en connais point d’autres.

Impitoyables dieux, mes crimes sont les vôtres,

Et vous m’en punissez.…

We must suspect, however, that Jocasta has mistaken in the opinion she utters in the concluding lines of the tragedy.

Prêtres, & vous Thébains, qui futes mes sujets,

Honorez mon bucher, & songez à jamais,

Qu’au milieu des horreurs du destin qui m’opprime,

J’ai fait rougir les dieux, qui m’ont forcée au crime.

For those, who could force innocent people to commit criminal actions, and then punish them on that account, were not capable of blushing for any thing. A French tragedy and Italian opera are represented at this theatre alternately; the King attends the latter as punctually as the former, and displays in his countenance that extreme sensibility to music, which forms part of his character. I imagine this Prince would succeed better in any thing than in simulation, if he should ever think it worth his while to attempt that part of hypocrisy,—his features are so expressive of his feelings, that the first would be constantly in danger of betraying the other. When there is no representation at the theatre, his Majesty has a private concert in his own apartment, where he himself performs on the German flute, in which instrument he has attained the highest degree of excellence.—To these concerts no stranger is admitted.