A Visit From Voltaire L Poem by Morgan Michaels

(bedroom)

MM Voltaire! What are you doing here?
V Rummaging your drawers.
MM What for?
V Je cherche un manuscrit. Something I'm working on. Have you seen it?
MM What makes you think it's here, cher Monsieur?
V No particular reason. It's called 'Candide'.
MM It's already been published. To great acclaim. Reprinted
countless times. But that was long ago.
V What? Oh, good. Pardon, my memory's not what it used to be. It used
to be prodigious.I used to know the entire Bible by heart. However,
there is no such thing as 'a long time ago'. The best human thought
is beyond time, and therefore, always new. Only the dull and
disinterested-or worse-believe otherwise.You select out what you
agree with, and call it memorable.
MM Well, excuse me! It's a master-piece, anyway. But, was it useful,
knowing the Bible by heart?
V I can honestly say it was. Are you sure it's not here, the manuscrit?
MM Very.
V So be it. But say, how do you know me? Have we met?
M Are you kidding? 'Candide'.'Zadig'. The'Dictionaire
Philosophe'. I read them all in under-graduate French.
V (sighs) I was afraid of that.
MM Besides, I'd recognize you anywhere. That outfit. That wig. Those
false teeth!
V (with mock-regret) Helas, dentistry has come a long way. How
I admire your science. Many of the things you take for granted were
unknown in my time. But what's wrong with my outfit? I wore it to
Sans Souci.
MM (laughs) Nothing's WRONG with it. But that coat. That color.
those stockings! Those heels. It's a hoot.
V (mock-offended) Whatever's the matter with baby-blue. And I paid
through the nose for these shoes, I'll have you know.
MM Relax. Only by our standards....
V...by your standards. Hmmph! I didn't know you had any. Not
that I'm any fan of standards, as such.
MM (changing the subject) Your English is so good! You have no
accent.
V Accents are for amateurs. Besides, I am a poet. We take these
things seriously.
MM Naturellement.
V Are you sure you don't have it, the manuscrit?
MM Quite. But it's an honor to have you here under my humble
roof. Can I offer you something?
V Like what?
MM I don't know. Something to drink?
V I don't drink...
MM either do I...
V...anything but champagne. It accounts for my longevity.
MM...coming right up.
V My friend the abbe invented it, you know, by mistake. And, if you had
any tea cake...
MM (firmly) Monsieur, you are a figment of my imagination. Do you think
it wise?
V Are you tempting me with abstinence?
MM Well...ah...
V...or tempting me with temptation?
MM Both!
V Good. Tea cake, then. I can resist anything but temptation.
MM Wrong play, Monsieur.
V What do you mean?
MM Never mind. I'll be right back.
(he leaves; Voltaire hums and looks around. He is
wearing a watch, which he taps)
V Stopped, again. Three o'clock. Hmmm. (listens) The best poetry
is silence.
MM (returns) Here we are! (he pops the cork, pours. They toast.)
Ecrasez l'infame!
V (lifting his glass) Whatever that means.
(they drink)