The Man of Destiny

the name a marked Italian pronunciation Bwaw-na-parr-te. Napoleon Angrily, with the French pronunciation. Bonaparte, madame, Bonaparte. The papers, if you please. Lady But I assure you⁠—He snatches the handkerchief rudely from her. General! Indignantly. Napoleon Taking the other handkerchief from his breast. You were good enough to lend one of your handkerchiefs to my lieutenant when you robbed him. He looks at the two handkerchiefs. They match one another. He smells them. The same scent. He flings them down on the table. I am waiting for the despatches. I shall take them, if necessary, with as little ceremony as the handkerchief. This historical incident was used eighty years later, by M. Victorien Sardou, in his drama entitled Dora. Lady In dignified reproof. General: do you threaten women? Napoleon Bluntly. Yes. Lady Disconcerted, trying to gain time. But I don’t understand. I⁠— Napoleon You understand perfectly. You came here because your Austrian employers calculated that I was six leagues away. I am always to be found where my enemies don’t expect me. You have walked into the lion’s den. Come: you are a brave woman. Be a sensible one: I have no time to waste. The papers. He advances a step ominously. Lady Breaking down in the childish rage of impotence, and throwing herself in tears on the chair left beside the table by the lieutenant. I brave! How little you know! I have spent the day in an agony of fear. I have a pain here from the tightening of my heart at every suspicious look, every threatening movement. Do you think everyone is as brave as you? Oh, why will not you brave people do the brave things? Why do you leave them to us, who have no courage at all? I’m not brave: I shrink from violence: danger makes me miserable. Napoleon Interested. Then why have you thrust yourself into danger? Lady Because there is no other way: I can trust nobody else. And now it is all useless⁠—all because of you, who have no fear, because you have no heart, no feeling, no⁠—She breaks off, and throws herself on her knees. Ah, General, let me go: let me go without asking any questions. You shall have your despatches and letters: I swear it. Napoleon Holding out his hand. Yes: I am waiting for them. She gasps, daunted by his ruthless promptitude into despair of moving him by cajolery; but as she looks up perplexedly at him, it is plain that she is racking her brains for some device to outwit him. He meets her regard inflexibly. Lady Rising at last with a quiet little sigh. I will get them for you. They are in my room. She turns to the door. Napoleon I shall accompany you, madame. Lady Drawing herself up with a noble air of offended delicacy. I cannot permit you, General, to enter my chamber. Napoleon Then you shall stay here, madame, whilst I have your chamber searched for my papers. Lady Spitefully, openly giving up her plan. You may save yourself the trouble. They are not there. Napoleon No: I have already told you where they are. Pointing to her breast. Lady With pretty piteousness. General: I only want to keep one little private letter. Only one. Let me have it. Napoleon Cold and stern. Is that a reasonable demand, madam? Lady Encouraged by his not refusing point blank. No; but that is why you must grant it. Are your own demands reasonable? thousands of lives for the sake of your victories, your ambitions, your destiny! And what I ask is such a little thing. And I am only a weak woman, and you a brave man. She looks at him with her eyes full of tender pleading and is about to kneel to him again. Napoleon Brusquely. Get up, get up. He turns moodily away and takes a turn across the room, pausing for a moment to say, over his shoulder, You’re talking nonsense; and you know it. She gets up and sits down in almost listless despair on the couch. When he turns and sees her there, he feels that his victory is complete, and that he may now indulge in a little play with his victim. He comes back and sits beside her. She looks alarmed and moves a little away from him; but a ray of rallying hope beams from her eye. He begins like a man enjoying some secret joke. How do you know I am a brave man? Lady Amazed. You! General Buonaparte. Italian pronunciation. Napoleon Yes, I, General Bonaparte. Emphasizing the French pronunciation. Lady Oh, how can you ask such a question? you! who stood only two days ago at the bridge at Lodi, with the air full of death, fighting a duel with cannons across the river! Shuddering. Oh, you do brave things. Napoleon So do you. Lady I! With a sudden odd thought. Oh! Are you a coward? Napoleon Laughing grimly and pinching her cheek. That is the one question you must never ask a soldier. The sergeant asks after the recruit’s height, his age, his wind, his limb, but never after his courage. He gets up and walks about with his hands behind him and his head bowed, chuckling to himself. Lady As if she had found it no laughing matter. Ah, you can laugh at fear. Then you don’t know what fear is. Napoleon Coming behind the couch. Tell me this. Suppose you could have got that letter by coming to me over the bridge at Lodi the day before yesterday! Suppose there had been no other way, and that this was a sure way⁠—if only you escaped the cannon! She shudders and covers her eyes for a moment with her hands. Would you have been afraid? Lady Oh, horribly afraid, agonizingly afraid. She presses her hands on her heart. It hurts only to imagine it. Napoleon Inflexibly. Would you