aces were bathed in tears, not such as well from joy, but from
grief and anger.

Napoleon had taken as little notice of the jubilant cheers of the crowd
as of the tears of the ladies. He rode on, absorbed in his reflections,
toward the royal palace. The bells of the cathedral--in the lower vaults
of which the remains of the royal family were reposing; in the upper
halls of which the solemn wedding ceremonies of the kings and princes
and princesses of Prussia had always been celebrated--greeted with
joyous notes the triumphant enemy, and the doors of the palace opened to
him. In the brilliant halls in which formerly the submissive vassals and
functionaries of the king had done homage to their sovereign, were now
assembled the same persons, as well as the officers and cavaliers of the
court, to receive the French emperor as their sovereign and master.
There were in those halls seven ministers of the king, the members of
the municipality of Berlin, with the two burgomasters; the high
dignitaries of the clergy of both confessions, and the officers of the
different tribunals; the members of the royal household, headed by the
king's master of ceremonies, Count von Neale. And all these gentlemen
had come to present their respects to the man who had routed their army,
driven their king and queen from the capital, and transformed their city
into a French prefecture.

The broad folding-doors opened, and the grand marshal walked through the
halls, crying in a ringing voice, "His majesty the emperor!" A profound
and solemn silence ensued. The eyes of all were turned toward the door
by which the emperor was to enter. He appeared on the threshold, as
impassive as ever. But the silence continued; the shouts of "_Vive
l'Empereur_!" which had greeted Napoleon in the streets, had not
penetrated within the white hall, where the statues of the Hohenzollerns
were standing. But this silent greeting, which might seem too much to
the ancestors of the king, did not satisfy the little soul of the proud
conqueror. The grand marshal approached to introduce the master of
ceremonies, Count von Neale, and to inquire whether the latter would be
allowed to present the several dignitaries to his majesty.

"Ah," exclaimed Napoleon, "you are the Count von Neale, whose daughter
is so enthusiastic and warlike an Amazon.[19] The women of Berlin,
headed by your queen, were bent upon having war; behold the result! You
ought to keep your family in bounds, sir