60 Plays: The George Bernard Shaw Edition (Illustrated). GEORGE BERNARD SHAW

this woman is not made that way. She governs men by cheating them; and (with disdain) they like it, and let her govern them. (She sits down again, with her back to him.)

      NAPOLEON (not attending to her). Barras, Barras I — (Turning very threateningly to her, his face darkening.) Take care, take care: do you hear? You may go too far.

      LADY (innocently turning her face to him). What’s the matter?

      NAPOLEON. What are you hinting at? Who is this woman?

      LADY (meeting his angry searching gaze with tranquil indifference as she sits looking up at him with her right arm resting lightly along the back of her chair, and one knee crossed over the other). A vain, silly, extravagant creature, with a very able and ambitious husband who knows her through and through — knows that she has lied to him about her age, her income, her social position, about everything that silly women lie about — knows that she is incapable of fidelity to any principle or any person; and yet could not help loving her — could not help his man’s instinct to make use of her for his own advancement with Barras.

      NAPOLEON (in a stealthy, coldly furious whisper). This is your revenge, you she cat, for having had to give me the letters.

      LADY. Nonsense! Or do you mean that YOU are that sort of man?

      NAPOLEON (exasperated, clasps his hands behind him, his fingers twitching, and says, as he walks irritably away from her to the fireplace). This woman will drive me out of my senses. (To her.) 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. Goodbye. (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 civil question?

      LADY (deeply offended by his violence). Why do you ask me? You have the explanation.

      NAPOLEON. Where?

      LADY (pointing to the letters on the table). There. You have only to read it. (He snatches the packet up, hesitates; looks at her suspiciously; and throws it down again.)

      NAPOLEON. You seem to have forgotten your solicitude for the honor of your old friend.

      LADY. She runs no risk now: she does not quite understand her husband.

      NAPOLEON. I am to read the letter, then? (He stretches out his hand as if to take up the packet again, with his eye on her.)

      LADY. I do not see how you can very well avoid doing so now. (He instantly withdraws his hand.) Oh, don’t be afraid. You will find many interesting things in it.

      NAPOLEON. For instance?

      LADY. For instance, a duel — with Barras, a domestic scene, a broken household, a public scandal, a checked career, all sorts of things.

      NAPOLEON. Hm! (He looks at her, takes up the packet and looks at it, pursing his lips and balancing it in his hand; looks at her again; passes the packet into his left hand and puts it behind his back, raising his right to scratch the back of his head as he turns and goes up to the edge of the vineyard, where he stands for a moment looking out into the vines, deep in thought. The Lady watches him in silence, somewhat slightingly. Suddenly he turns and comes back again, full of force and decision.) I grant your request, madame. Your courage and resolution deserve to succeed. Take the letters for which you have fought so well; and remember henceforth that you found the vile, vulgar Corsican adventurer as generous to the vanquished after the battle as he was resolute in the face of the enemy before it. (He offers her the packet.)

      LADY (without taking it, looking hard at him). What are you at now, I wonder? (He dashes the packet furiously to the floor.) Aha! I’ve spoiled that attitude, I think. (She makes him a pretty mocking curtsey.)

      NAPOLEON (snatching it up again). Will you take the letters and begone (advancing and thrusting them upon her)?

      LADY (escaping round the table). No: I don’t want letters.

      NAPOLEON. Ten minutes ago, nothing else would satisfy you.

      LADY (keeping the table carefully between them). Ten minutes ago you had not insulted me past all bearing.

      NAPOLEON. I — (swallowing his spleen) I apologize.

      LADY (coolly). Thanks. (With forced politeness he offers her the packet across the table. She retreats a step out of its reach and says) But don’t you want to know whether the Austrians are at Mantua or Peschiera?

      NAPOLEON. I have already told you that I can conquer my enemies without the aid of spies, madame.

      LADY. And the letter! don’t you want to read that?

      NAPOLEON. You have said that it is not addressed to me. I am not in the habit of reading other people’s letters. (He again offers the packet.)

      LADY. In that case there can be no objection to your keeping it. All I wanted was to prevent your reading it. (Cheerfully.) Good afternoon, General. (She turns coolly towards the inner door.)

      NAPOLEON (furiously flinging the packet on the couch). Heaven grant me patience! (He goes up determinedly and places himself before the door.) Have you any sense of personal danger? Or are you one of those women who like to be beaten black and blue?

      LADY. Thank you, General: I have no doubt the sensation is very voluptuous; but I had rather not. I simply want to go home: that’s all. I was wicked enough to steal your despatches; but you have got them back; and you have forgiven me, because (delicately reproducing his rhetorical cadence) you are as generous to the vanquished after the battle as you are resolute in the face of the enemy before it. Won’t you say goodbye to me? (She offers her hand sweetly.)

      NAPOLEON (repulsing the advance with a gesture of concentrated rage, and opening the door to call fiercely). Giuseppe! (Louder.) Giuseppe! (He bangs the door to, and comes to the middle of the room. The lady goes a little way into the vineyard to avoid him.)

      GIUSEPPE (appearing at the door). Excellency?

      NAPOLEON. Where is that fool?

      GIUSEPPE. He has had a good dinner, according to your instructions, excellency, and is now doing me the honor to gamble with me to pass the time.

      NAPOLEON. Send him here. Bring him here. Come with him. (Giuseppe, with unruffled readiness, hurries off. Napoleon turns curtly to the lady, saying) I must trouble you to remain some moments longer, madame. (He comes to the couch. She comes from the vineyard down the opposite side of the room to the sideboard, and posts herself there, leaning against it, watching him. He takes the packet from the couch and deliberately buttons it carefully into his breast pocket, looking at her meanwhile with an expression which suggests that she will soon find out the meaning of his proceedings, and will not like it. Nothing more is said until the lieutenant arrives followed by Giuseppe, who stands modestly in attendance at the table. The lieutenant, without cap, sword or gloves, and much improved in temper and spirits by his meal, chooses the Lady’s side of the room, and waits, much at his ease, for Napoleon to begin.)

      NAPOLEON.