nnot--O, I will not!

NAPOLEON [fiercely]

But you SHALL!
And from your past experience you may know
That what I say I mean!

JOSEPHINE [breaking into sobs]

O my dear husband--do not make me--don't!
If you but cared for me--the hundredth part
Of how--I care for you, you could not be
So cruel as to lay this torture on me.
It hurts me so!--it cuts me like a sword.
Don't make me, dear! Don't, will you! O,O,O!
[She sinks down in a hysterical fit.]

NAPOLEON [calling]

Bausset!

[Enter DE BAUSSET, Chamberlain-in-waiting.]

Bausset, come in and shut the door.
Assist me here. The Empress has fallen ill.
Don't call for help. We two can carry her
By the small private staircase to her rooms.
Here--I will take her feet.

[They lift JOSEPHINE between them and carry her out. Her moans
die away as they recede towards the stairs. Enter two servants,
who remove coffee-service, readjust chairs, etc.]

FIRST SERVANT

So, poor old girl, she's wailed her _Missere Mei_, as Mother Church
says. I knew she was to get the sack ever since he came back.

SECOND SERVANT

Well, there will be a little civil huzzaing, a little crowing and
cackling among the Bonapartes at the downfall of the Beauharnais
family at last, mark me there will! They've had their little hour,
as the poets say, and now 'twill be somebody else's turn. O it is
droll! Well, Father Time is a great philosopher, if you take him
right. Who is to be the new woman?

FIRST SERVANT

She that contains in her own corporation the necessary particular.

SECOND SERVANT

And what may they be?

FIRST SERVANT

She must be young.

SECOND SERVANT

Good. She must. The country must see to that.

FIRST SERVANT

And she must be strong.

SECOND SERVANT

Good again. She must be strong. The doctors will see to that.

FIRST SERVANT
And she must be fruitful as the vine.

SECOND SERVANT

Ay, by God. She must be fruitful as the vine. That, Heaven help
him, he must see to himself, like the meanest multiplying man in
Paris.

[Exeunt servant. Re-enter NAPOLEON with his stepdaughter, Queen
Hortense.]

NAPOLEON
Your mother is too rash and reasonless--
Wailing and fainting over statesmanship
Which is no personal caprice of mine,
But policy most painful--forced on me
By t