LADY (bitter-sweetly). What else but a love letter could stir up
so much hate?

NAPOLEON. Why is it sent to me? To put the husband in my power,
eh?

LADY. No, no: it can be of no use to you: I swear that it will
cost you nothing to give it to me. It has been sent to you out of
sheer malice--solely to injure the woman who wrote it.

NAPOLEON. Then why not send it to her husband instead of to me?

LADY (completely taken aback). Oh! (Sinking back into the chair.)
I--I don't know. (She breaks down.)

NAPOLEON. Aha! I thought so: a little romance to get the papers
back. (He throws the packet on the table and confronts her with
cynical goodhumor.) Per Bacco, little woman, I can't help
admiring you. If I could lie like that, it would save me a great
deal of trouble.

LADY (wringing her hands). Oh, how I wish I really had told you
some lie! You would have believed me then. The truth is the one
thing that nobody will believe.

NAPOLEON (with coarse familiarity, treating her as if she were a
vivandiere). Capital! Capital! (He puts his hands behind him on
the table, and lifts himself on to it, sitting with his arms
akimbo and his legs wide apart.) Come: I am a true Corsican in my