Part 26 (1/2)
She wanted to disengage herself from his hands, but he held her only the more firmly. ”Josephine,” he said, in a hollow voice, ”listen to me, do not drive me to despair, for it would kill me to lose you. No duty, no t.i.tle would attach me any longer to earth. Men are so contemptible, life is so wretched--you alone extinguish the ignominy of mankind in my eyes.
[Footnote: ”Correspondance inedite avec Josephine,” p. 875] Without you there is no hope, no happiness. I love you boundlessly.”
”No, general, you despise me; you do not love me!”
”No, no!” he shouted, wildly stamping his foot. ”If you go on in this manner, I shall drop dead at your feet. Do not torment me so dreadfully.
Remember what I have often told you: Nature has given to me a strong, decided soul, but it has made you of gauze and lace. You say I do not love. Hear it, then, for the last time. Since you have been away from me, I have not pa.s.sed a single day without loving you, not a single night without mentally pressing you to my heart. I have not taken a single cup of tea without cursing the glory and ambition separating me from the soul of my life. [Footnote: ”Correspondance,” etc., p. 532.]
Amidst my absorbing occupations--at the head of my troops, on the march and in the field--my heavenly Josephine ever was foremost in my heart.
She occupied my mind; she absorbed my thoughts. If I left you with the impetuosity of the Rhone, I only did so in order to return the sooner to your side. If I ran from my bed at night and continued working, I did so for the purpose of accelerating the moment of our reunion. The most beautiful women surrounded me, smiled upon me, gave me hopes of their favor, and tried to please me, but none of them resembled you; none had the gentle and melodious features so deeply imprinted on my heart.
I only saw you, only thought of you, and that rendered all of them intolerable to me. I left the most beautiful women in order to throw myself on my couch and sigh, 'When will my adored wife be again with me?' [Footnote: Ibid., p. 349.] And if I just now gave way to an ebullition of anger, I only did so because I love you so boundlessly as to be jealous of every glance, of every smile. Forgive me, therefore, Josephine, forgive me for the sake of my infinite love! Tell me that you will think no more of it, and that you will forget and forgive every thing.”
He looked at her anxiously and inquiringly, but Josephine did not reply to his glances. She averted her eyes and remained silent.
”Josephine.” he exclaimed, perfectly beside himself, ”make an end of it. Just touch my forehead; it is covered with cold perspiration, and my heart is trembling as it never trembled in battle. Make an end of it; I am utterly exhausted. Oh, Josephine, my dear Josephine, open your arms to me.”
”Well, come then, you dear, cruel husband,” she said, bursting into tears and extending her arms to him.
Bonaparte uttered a joyful cry, pressed her to his heart, and covered her with kisses.
”Now I am sure you have forgiven every thing,” he said, encircling her all the time with his arms. ”You forgive my madness, my abominable jealousy?”
”I forgive every thing, Bonaparte, if you will promise not to be jealous again,” she said, with a charming smile.
”I promise never to be jealous again, but to think, whenever you give a rendezvous to another man, that you only do so for my sake, and for the purpose of conspiring for me. Ah, my excellent wife, you have worked bravely for me, and henceforth I know that I can intrust to your keeping my glory and my honor with implicit confidence. Yea, even the helm of the state I would fearlessly intrust to your hands. Pray, therefore, Josephine, pray that your husband may reach the pinnacle of distinction, for in that case I should give you a seat in my council of state and make you mistress of every thing except one point--” [Footnote: Le Normand, vol. i. p. 341.]
”And what is that?” asked Josephine, eagerly.
”The only thing I should not intrust to you, Josephine,” he said, laughing, ”would be the keys of my treasury; you never would get them, my beautiful prodigal little wife of gauze, lace, diamonds, and pearls!”
[Footnote: Ibid., vol. i., p. 342.]
”Ah, then you would deprive me of the right to distribute charities in your name?” she asked, sadly. ”Is not that the most precious and sublime duty of the wife of a great man, to conquer Heaven for him by charities while he is conquering earth by his deeds? And you would take from me the means for doing so? Yours is a wild and pa.s.sionate nature, and I shall often have to heal the wounds that you have inflicted in your outbursts of anger. Happy for me if I should always be able to heal them, and if your anger should be less fatal to men than to my poor little dog, who merely wanted to defend me against your violence.”
”Poor little dog!” said Bonaparte, casting a glance of confusion upon Zephyr. ”I greatly regret the occurrence, particularly as the dog was a gift from Hoche. But no lamentations of mine being able to recall Zephyr to life, Josephine, I will immortalize him at all events. He shall not find an unknown grave, like many a hero; no, we will erect to this valiant and intrepid defender of the charming fortress Josephine, a monument which shall relate his exploits to the most remote posterity.
Have Zephyr packed up in a box; couriers and convoys of troops will set out to-day for Milan. They shall take the corpse along, and I will issue orders that a monument be erected to your Zephyr in the garden of our villa. [Footnote: Bonaparte kept his word. The little victim of his Jealousy, Zephyr, the dog, was buried in the gardens of Mondeza, near Milan, and a marble monument was erected on his grave.--Le Normand, vol.
i., p. 498.] But now, Josephine, I must leave you; life, with its stern realities, is calling me. I must go and receive the Austrian amba.s.sadors.”
CHAPTER XX.
THE RECEPTION OF THE AMBa.s.sADORS.
A motley crowd of gentlemen in uniforms and glittering gala-dresses had filled the anterooms of the French emba.s.sy ever since the arrival of General Bonaparte and Josephine. All these high-born representatives of German sovereigns and states hastened to do homage to the French lady and to commend themselves to the benevolence and favor of the victorious general of the republic. But the doors of the general and of his wife were as difficult to open as those of the French amba.s.sadors, Bonnier, Jean Debry, and Roberjot. General Bonaparte had received the Austrian amba.s.sadors, and returned their visit. But n.o.body else had been admitted to him during the first day. The amba.s.sadors, therefore, flocked the more eagerly on this second day after his arrival to the anterooms of the French amba.s.sadors, for every one wanted to be the first to win for his sovereign and for his state the good-will of the French conqueror.
Every one wished to obtain advantages, to avert mischief, and to beg for favors.
Happy were they already who had only succeeded in penetrating into the anterooms of the French emba.s.sy, for a good deal of money had to be spent in order to open those doors. In front of them stood the footmen of the amba.s.sadors with grave, stern countenances, refusing to admit any but those who had been previously recommended to them, or who knew now how to gain their favor by substantial rewards. [Footnote: The employes of the French emba.s.sy, from the first secretary down to the lowest footman and cook, received handsome gifts at the hands of the German delegates, for every one was anxious to secure the goodwill of the French representatives; and in obedience to the old trick of diplomatists, they tried to gain the favor of the masters by means of that of their servants. The latter made a very handsome thing out of it.--Vide Hausser, vol. ii., p. 163.] And when they finally, by means of such persuasive gifts, had succeeded in crossing the threshold of the anteroom, they found there the clerks and secretaries of the French gentlemen, and these men again barred the door of the cabinet occupied by the amba.s.sadors themselves. These clerks and secretaries had to be bribed likewise by solicitations, flatteries, and money; only, instead of satisfying them with silver, as in the case of the doorkeepers, they had to give them heavy gold pieces.
Having finally overcome all these obstacles--having now penetrated into the presence of the French diplomatists--the amba.s.sadors of the German powers met with a haughty reserve instead of the kindness they had hoped for, and with sarcastic sneers in lieu of a warm reception. It was in vain for Germany thus to humble herself and to crouch in the dust.