Begone.

LADY (seated immovably). Not without that letter.

NAPOLEON. Begone, I tell you. (Walking from the fireplace to the
vineyard and back to the table.) You shall have no letter. I
don't like you. You're a detestable woman, and as ugly as Satan.
I don't choose to be pestered by strange women. Be off. (He turns
his back on her. In quiet amusement, she leans her cheek on her
hand and laughs at him. He turns again, angrily mocking her.) Ha!
ha! ha! What are you laughing at?

LADY. At you, General. I have often seen persons of your sex
getting into a pet and behaving like children; but I never saw a
really great man do it before.

NAPOLEON (brutally, flinging the words in her face). Pooh:
flattery! flattery! coarse, impudent flattery!

LADY (springing up with a bright flush in her cheeks). Oh, you
are too bad. Keep your letters. Read the story of your own
dishonor in them; and much good may they do you. Good-bye. (She
goes indignantly towards the inner door.)

NAPOLEON. My own--! Stop. Come back. Come back, I order you. (She
proudly disregards his savagely peremptory tone and continues on
her way to the door. He rushes at her; seizes her by the wrist;
and drags her back.) Now, what do you mean? Explain. Explain, I
tell you, or--(Threatening her. She looks at him with unflinching
defiance.) Rrrr! you obstinate devil, you. Why can't you answer a