Versailles is worse than being queen

◎Volts, Witters and Watts◎

How to raise a child who doesn't want to be a king into a good king?

Antanya couldn't think of a good way.When she was discussing with Nicholas about the renovation of the water conservancy, she asked him a question.

"Doesn't he have a younger brother?" Nicholas asked back.

"That won't work!" Antanya immediately vetoed it.

"His existence itself is a threat to them. If the power is not in his hands, he may not even be able to control his own life."

Especially recalling the history she had personally experienced, Antanya sneered: "Those two younger brothers can't wait for him to die."

Nicholas looked at her and smiled: "You think so much, I think you are very suitable to be a queen."

"Me?" Antanya sneered, "The French nobleman will tell you that this joke is not funny."

She waved her hand, "Forget it."

His Majesty the King had a stroke the other day, and people said it was because it was too hot—but Antanya knew it hadn't been hot these two days, and the King was just getting old.

So she couldn't help feeling a little anxious.But it's no use worrying about it.

Nicholas suddenly pointed to the blueprint she had drawn and said, "Is this a fire station?"

Antanya nodded.

"Okay. I will do a good job with the matching power of the fire pump... Fire prevention is really important."

Hearing what he said, Antanya suddenly remembered the fire they had experienced together before.

That fire broke out in the Winter Palace in St. Petersburg.

They had just agreed to take Nicholas out of Russia, in a carriage through the streets of the Neva.On one side is the raging fire of the Winter Palace, and on the other is the ice surface that is reflected by the fire like glass.

The young boy sitting beside her looked at the burning Winter Palace, and remained silent for a long time.

At a certain moment at that time, Antanya suddenly had an illusion... as if they were equally lonely.

Antanya blurted out: "Hmm... Did you die in a fire?"

Nicola raised her eyebrows, and she subconsciously avoided his gaze: "Uh, sorry, if it's rude to ask the cause of death, I'm sorry."

It is of course bad manners to inquire about the cause of death, although governesses are not usually trained on this question.

She didn't know what was wrong with herself.It stands to reason that she has accepted the strict education of the Queen's standard for so many years, even if she is impulsive, she should never be so rude.

Nicholas didn't look angry at all.

He thought for a while: "Actually, I don't know how I died. It was probably an accident. Before that, people thought I was dead, but I was actually doing secret research."

"If you're just wondering why I put so much emphasis on fire prevention, it's because I also experienced a fire in that era. My research was just opening up a new field, which was the conspiracy of an old opponent of mine."

His eyes seemed to fall on a distant place, "My entire six-story research room was burnt down, and all the research equipment, materials, and documents in it were burned. It is the result of my research for more than ten years."

Antanya did not expect to hear such a story.

She was full of guilt: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Unexpectedly, the corner of Nicholas' mouth curled up immediately: "It's a pity he didn't expect that I remembered all my design details and experimental data, although it's a bit troublesome to restore them - he can't store them in his brain, but I can .”

He blinked teasingly: "You see, his IQ limits his imagination."

Antania: "..."

This guy is really annoying sometimes.

……

Volta, who had come to Paris from Como, Italy, to attend Nolet's funeral, did not intend to stay long.

From here he plans to go to Madrid, Lisbon, London, Glasgow, and maybe Berlin, Vienna, Amsterdam after returning to the mainland.

However, to his surprise, he actually received an invitation letter from Her Royal Highness the Crown Princess, inviting him to attend the physics salon held in the Palace of Versailles!

Oh my God!Although his family is considered a very noble and wealthy family in Como, it is still far away from the royal family.He just published his first paper last year—was that the paper that brought him to the attention of the Parisian scientific community?

It must be!He was very excited.

Coincidentally, the salon was held on the night when the "Rheinische Zeitung" serialized the finale of "The Sorrows of Young Werther".

On that day, he gave the newspaper boy in the hotel a generous tip in advance, and the newsboy lived up to his expectations, grabbing the "Rheinische Zeitung" for him that day before most of the French nobles had woken up.

"Mr. Volt, you don't know, I've been queuing up before dawn! Otherwise, I might not be able to grab it!" The newsboy shouted exaggeratedly.

Volt understood, and gave him another ten sous in silver: "Go and buy lemonade!"

"Thank you sir!" The newsboy happily ran away.

Volt sat down and couldn't wait to open the finale of "The Sorrows of Young Werther" - yesterday's newspaper had already marked "This is the last Chapter 2".

So today's newspaper is particularly difficult to grab, but fortunately, he had expected it.

After going through all kinds of setbacks, the child of a kind family who helped Werther died tragically. The farmer boldly confessed to his favorite mistress, but was driven away by the mistress' younger brother because he was afraid that he would rob his sister's property.The girl he loves can never be with him, and Werther finally falls into the ultimate despair.

In that last night, Werther walked to the window in despair—and Volt, who was looking at the text, also clenched his heart.

"... Lotte! Lotte! Farewell! Farewell!" Werther concluded.

"Oh my God!" Volt burst into tears.

Werther, who was so passionate, impulsive, and sincere like himself, committed suicide!

You must know that the priests of this era would not bury a person who committed suicide, and his funeral would not be attended by priests-but this also means that the body of Werther after death can only be treated in the same way as murderers and criminals. treatment.

But he is such a good boy!Volt was heartbroken.

This is too miserable...

How could this story end like this?

Too much, this author - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.The name sounds like a German.Cold-blooded, heartless guy!

If he can meet this Goethe, be sure to tell him that he is not happy with this ending!

Volt thought angrily, and flipped through the newspaper several times with his hands full—maybe there will be some comments from others.

After flipping through it like this, he discovered that there was a pattern outlined on the side of the first page—the lines were simple and smooth, but one could tell at a glance that it was a beautiful figure in a costume.

Huh, what is this?

Probably because printers need to print by hand, it is impossible to print those real paintings.However, such paintings looked so fashionable that he had never seen them in Italy.

Volt looked at the painting curiously.

Although the painting method is very abstract, it is still possible to see the elements in the painting at a glance - the woman in full dress, the small hat is worn on one side of her hair, the cuffs are slightly raised, like lily of the valley buds; the skirt is naturally drooping, There is no common enlarged skeleton, but it rises naturally, like a rose that blooms in layers.

The two lines at the bottom are elegant and eye-catching: "No. 58, Rue Chancellor, the Seal Keeper of Versailles, Jeanne Fontaine's tailor shop, the choice of court ladies, we customize beautiful dresses that are most suitable for waltzing for you!"

……

In the afternoon at Versailles, even the sun is soft and lazy.

Directly above the king's bedroom, where the secret passage leads, is a mysterious and luxurious place - Madame du Barry's bedroom.

Here, from the walls, fireplace, bed curtains to sofas, gold and pink are everywhere, and the radiant satin is embellished with delicate floral embroidery.

On the brass rack by the window hung a gilt-bronze porcelain birdcage, and a brightly colored parrot was standing in the cage and chirping: "Monsieur France! Monsieur France! Monsieur France!"

"Oh, please let this little lady go out first," Louis XV walked in with a smile, "otherwise I will forget who is my baby."

"That's not true." Madame Dubarry came out of the bathroom barefoot in a thin silk gown, "After all, a parrot can't go to a gentle place with you, can it?"

She had obviously just taken a bath, white mist was on her soft skin, her loose wet hair wet the robe on her chest, and her plump curves were looming.

The king looked at her with admiration: "Honey, you are getting more and more beautiful."

Mrs. Dubarry smiled charmingly, and took the initiative to hook his neck: "It turns out that many people like my clothes and agree with my taste! I'm so happy."

"I like you better without clothes." The king touched her face.

"I hate it!" She said coquettishly, and knocked off his hand, "I'm talking about business. Don't you forget? I opened a tailor shop in Versailles, and I personally designed and selected all kinds of clothes. Then ask a tailor to make it."

"Oh... yes." The king thought for a while before remembering.He's been getting more and more forgetful lately.

"That would be really nice," he said casually.

Madame du Barry smiled broadly.

Of course, she is not short of money. As the royal mistress publicly announced by His Majesty the King, she has an annual annuity allowance of 40 livres, while the quarterly salary of a servant who works for three months in the Palace of Versailles is only 300 livres.

But she cares most about what other people think.She walked from the land of fireworks to the king's couch, all the glory and wealth are not a problem, but she deeply hates those women who were born in aristocratic families - they are better than her in that they are born better, nothing else can compare she?Why do they look down on her!

Usually, everyone flattered her, but more people ridiculed her openly and secretly, making her unhappy.Although the style she wears will be sought after by many women, those "really high-ranking" ladies try their best to avoid it as if they deliberately expressed their attitude.

But at the suggestion of the young princess, she secretly opened this tailor shop with the annuity given to her by the king.No one knows that the store is hers - she is not only the owner, but also the designer.

Ouch!What happened next was beyond her imagination.

Although no one was interested in the first three days of opening, the little girl told her very kindly that she heard that the "Rheinische Zeitung" had published a statement, that she could place advertisements in newspapers, and now there are discounts for purchases——

Anyway, the money was not wasted, so she bought a week's page.

As a result, since yesterday, her tailor shop has been suddenly full.

Carriages carrying those noble ladies who had sniffed at her in the past drove to her tailor shop.Those ignorant ladies lingered in front of the dresses she chose, and couldn't put it down.

aha!A lot of people are paying extra money for the tailors in the store, and want to rush the order to attend the salon tonight-if they know that the dresses they love so much are picked by her, the expressions on their faces will be so wonderful ?

Madame Dubarry laughed more and more heartily, and she stretched out her hand and pulled out the king's belt: "Your Majesty, the Rheinische Zeitung has published my advertisement-this newspaper has helped me a lot."

""Rheinische Zeitung"?" The king recalled it suspiciously, but he didn't have any impression.

It was probably one of those few newspapers, anyway, it was just the little things in the palace that went over and over again.He never reads the news, he is the news himself.

"Your Majesty, I like that newspaper." Madame Dubarry said slowly, "But do you know that some news censors don't like the fact that the "Rheinische Zeitung" sells well, and they ask them for bribes. Let's make the news!"

"Hey, these things are everywhere." The king waved his hand, "They don't earn much, so let them go. If I care too much, it will appear that the royal family is too stingy."

"Your Majesty!" Madame Dubarry withdrew her hand. "It's not fair! I like that newspaper. You see, the newspaper is not only read by the common people, but also by people in our palace—what are those censors? Are they going to decide what we see?"

The king was enjoying it when the soft hands were suddenly pulled away.

He waved his hand: "Hey, okay. I just want them to pay attention. That one is called the Rheinische Zeitung, right?"

Madame Dubarry then smiled and said, "Yes. Oh, I knew you would definitely help me! By the way, tonight is the salon held by Antoinette, and I'm going to dance in a dress I designed myself .”

The king closed his eyes and asked with a smile, "You seem to like that child very much."

She lowered her eyes and smiled slowly: "Maybe because of all the women in this court, she is the only one who really respects me."

"Hey... Jeanna, I said that I can hold many ladies' salons for you..."

"Well, well, my Monsieur France. I know you love me very much."

Of course, the king can use his power to order the ladies to attend the salon hosted by her-but who really thinks highly of her?

Among the women she invited, who didn't smile politely on the surface, and laughed at her poor background behind her back, which made her even more troubled.

But so what?No matter how noble they were born, they could not be favored by the king.

Madame du Barry smiled languidly.

……

When night fell, all the candles in the Hall of Mirrors were lit up, as brilliant as day.

The salon has not yet started, and the people who arrived first have gathered together in twos and threes to play cards, dance, chat and laugh happily.

"...Is it? You also think the ending of "The Sorrows of Young Werther" is very disappointing!"

"I quite agree with you."

"When I read that, I really wanted to punch the author in the face!"

As soon as Nicholas walked into the hall of mirrors, he heard the voices of condemnation filled with righteous indignation.

He suddenly felt a kind of sympathy—a man as great as Goethe may have to bear some social pressure in this era.

At this moment, three people walked in through the gate side by side.They were menacing, especially the blond, shaggy-haired man at their head—a stark contrast to the cheery atmosphere around them.

Everyone turned their heads.

"Who is this?"

"Ah, isn't that Hans and Merrel? This one in front of them?"

"It seems that I have never seen it before."

The three went straight to Earl Noaille.As director of the Palace of Versailles, he is also directly in charge of tonight's salon.

The blond stranger coughed lightly.

He didn't seem to notice everyone's gaze, but he spoke solemnly and loudly with a volume that could almost be heard around him: "Sir, I am James Watt from London, the inventor of the steam engine, and the manufacturer of mathematical instruments at the University of Glasgow." division, partner in Karen Iron Works, engineer, inventor—”

"I accuse Nikola Tesla of plagiarizing my patent for a steam engine invention!"

The author says:

God sent Edison for Nicholas, and then sent him Watt (bushi).

In the blink of an eye, the end of the month!Little angels, if you have a nutrient solution that is about to expire, if you like it, can you vote for this article~ 360-degree bow, thank you everyone!

Watt is recognized as the inventor of the steam engine, but he had some disputes over patents related to the steam engine. Historical data show that he had a sense of exclusive competition with other researchers of the steam engine.An excerpt follows:

From around 1780, Watt began to take measures to apply for patents in advance of some other people's ideas he heard, so as to ensure that the overall invention of the steam engine belonged to him and prevent others from intervening.Watt wrote to Boulton on August 1784, 8: "My description of the stent is the best I can do as time and place allow; defects, I did this only to prevent others from obtaining similar patents."

Some people think that Watt did not allow his employee William Murdoch to participate in the development of his high-pressure steam engine, thus delaying the invention.Watt also joined with Boulton to suppress the work of other engineers, such as Jonathan Hornblower, who invented another steam engine in 1781, but was sued for infringing Watt's patents.

It is said that Watt also obstructed the invention and promotion of other non-patented steam engines, and believed that it was impossible to use steam engines to propel vehicles.