The Man of Destiny by George Bernard Shaw
page 39 of 72 (54%)
page 39 of 72 (54%)
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involuntarily drops. The lady looks at him enigmatically in
tranquil silence. He throws the letter down and breaks out into a torrent of scolding.) What do you mean? Eh? Are you at your tricks again? Do you think I don't know what these papers contain? I'll tell you. First, my information as to Beaulieu's retreat. There are only two things he can do--leatherbrained idiot that he is!--shut himself up in Mantua or violate the neutrality of Venice by taking Peschiera. You are one of old Leatherbrain's spies: he has discovered that he has been betrayed, and has sent you to intercept the information at all hazards--as if that could save him from ME, the old fool! The other papers are only my usual correspondence from Paris, of which you know nothing. LADY (prompt and businesslike). General: let us make a fair division. Take the information your spies have sent you about the Austrian army; and give me the Paris correspondence. That will content me. NAPOLEON (his breath taken away by the coolness of the proposal). A fair di-- (He gasps.) It seems to me, madame, that you have come to regard my letters as your own property, of which I am trying to rob you. LADY (earnestly). No: on my honor I ask for no letter of yours-- not a word that has been written by you or to you. That packet contains a stolen letter: a letter written by a woman to a man--a man not her husband--a letter that means disgrace, infamy-- NAPOLEON. A love letter? |
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