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

The horse is ready, Lieutenant.

      LIEUTENANT. I’m not going just yet. Go and find the General, and tell him I want to speak to him.

      GIUSEPPE (shaking his head). That will never do, Lieutenant.

      LIEUTENANT. Why not?

      GIUSEPPE. In this wicked world a general may send for a lieutenant; but a lieutenant must not send for a general.

      LIEUTENANT. Oh, you think he wouldn’t like it. Well, perhaps you’re right: one has to be awfully particular about that sort of thing now we’ve got a republic.

      Napoleon reappears, advancing from the vineyard, buttoning the breast of his coat, pale and full of gnawing thoughts.

      GIUSEPPE (unconscious of Napoleon’s approach). Quite true, Lieutenant, quite true. You are all like innkeepers now in France: you have to be polite to everybody.

      NAPOLEON (putting his hand on Giuseppe’s shoulder). And that destroys the whole value of politeness, eh?

      LIEUTENANT. The very man I wanted! See here, General: suppose I catch that fellow for you!

      NAPOLEON (with ironical gravity). You will not catch him, my friend.

      LIEUTENANT. Aha! you think so; but you’ll see. Just wait. Only, if I do catch him and hand him over to you, will you cry quits? Will you drop all this about degrading me in the presence of my regiment? Not that I mind, you know; but still no regiment likes to have all the other regiments laughing at it.

      NAPOLEON. (a cold ray of humor striking pallidly across his gloom). What shall we do with this officer, Giuseppe? Everything he says is wrong.

      GIUSEPPE (promptly). Make him a general, excellency; and then everything he says will be right.

      LIEUTENANT (crowing). Haw-aw! (He throws himself ecstatically on the couch to enjoy the joke.)

      NAPOLEON (laughing and pinching Giuseppe’s ear). You are thrown away in this inn, Giuseppe. (He sits down and places Giuseppe before him like a schoolmaster with a pupil.) Shall I take you away with me and make a man of you?

      GIUSEPPE (shaking his head rapidly and repeatedly). No, thank you, General. All my life long people have wanted to make a man of me. When I was a boy, our good priest wanted to make a man of me by teaching me to read and write. Then the organist at Melegnano wanted to make a man of me by teaching me to read music. The recruiting sergeant would have made a man of me if I had been a few inches taller. But it always meant making me work; and I am too lazy for that, thank Heaven! So I taught myself to cook and became an innkeeper; and now I keep servants to do the work, and have nothing to do myself except talk, which suits me perfectly.

      NAPOLEON (looking at him thoughtfully). You are satisfied?

      GIUSEPPE (with cheerful conviction). Quite, excellency.

      NAPOLEON. And you have no devouring devil inside you who must be fed with action and victory — gorged with them night and day — who makes you pay, with the sweat of your brain and body, weeks of Herculean toil for ten minutes of enjoyment — who is at once your slave and your tyrant, your genius and your doom — who brings you a crown in one hand and the oar of a galley slave in the other — who shows you all the kingdoms of the earth and offers to make you their master on condition that you become their servant! — have you nothing of that in you?

      GIUSEPPE. Nothing of it! Oh, I assure you, excellency, MY devouring devil is far worse than that. He offers me no crowns and kingdoms: he expects to get everything for nothing — sausages, omelettes, grapes, cheese, polenta, wine — three times a day, excellency: nothing less will content him.

      LIEUTENANT. Come, drop it, Giuseppe: you’re making me feel hungry again.

      (Giuseppe, with an apologetic shrug, retires from the conversation, and busies himself at the table, dusting it, setting the map straight, and replacing Napoleon’s chair, which the lady has pushed back.)

      NAPOLEON (turning to the lieutenant with sardonic ceremony). I hope I have not been making you feel ambitious.

      LIEUTENANT. Not at all: I don’t fly so high. Besides: I’m better as I am: men like me are wanted in the army just now. The fact is, the Revolution was all very well for civilians; but it won’t work in the army. You know what soldiers are, General: they WILL have men of family for their officers. A subaltern must be a gentleman, because he’s so much in contact with the men. But a general, or even a colonel, may be any sort of riffraff if he understands the shop well enough. A lieutenant is a gentleman: all the rest is chance. Why, who do you suppose won the battle of Lodi? I’ll tell you. My horse did.

      NAPOLEON (rising) Your folly is carrying you too far, sir. Take care.

      LIEUTENANT. Not a bit of it. You remember all that red-hot cannonade across the river: the Austrians blazing away at you to keep you from crossing, and you blazing away at them to keep them from setting the bridge on fire? Did you notice where I was then?

      NAPOLEON (with menacing politeness). I am sorry. I am afraid I was rather occupied at the moment.

      GIUSEPPE (with eager admiration). They say you jumped off your horse and worked the big guns with your own hands, General.

      LIEUTENANT. That was a mistake: an officer should never let himself down to the level of his men. (Napoleon looks at him dangerously, and begins to walk tigerishly to and fro.) But you might have been firing away at the Austrians still, if we cavalry fellows hadn’t found the ford and got across and turned old Beaulieu’s flank for you. You know you daren’t have given the order to charge the bridge if you hadn’t seen us on the other side. Consequently, I say that whoever found that ford won the battle of Lodi. Well, who found it? I was the first man to cross: and I know. It was my horse that found it. (With conviction, as he rises from the couch.) That horse is the true conqueror of the Austrians.

      NAPOLEON (passionately). You idiot: I’ll have you shot for losing those despatches: I’ll have you blown from the mouth of a cannon: nothing less could make any impression on you. (Baying at him.) Do you hear? Do you understand?

      A French officer enters unobserved, carrying his sheathed sabre in his hand.

      LIEUTENANT (unabashed). IF I don’t capture him, General. Remember the if.

      NAPOLEON. If! If!! Ass: there is no such man.

      THE OFFICER (suddenly stepping between them and speaking in the unmistakable voice of the Strange Lady). Lieutenant: I am your prisoner. (She offers him her sabre. They are amazed. Napoleon gazes at her for a moment thunderstruck; then seizes her by the wrist and drags her roughly to him, looking closely and fiercely at her to satisfy himself as to her identity; for it now begins to darken rapidly into night, the red glow over the vineyard giving way to clear starlight.)

      NAPOLEON. Pah! (He flings her hand away with an exclamation of disgust, and turns his back on her with his hand in his breast and his brow lowering.)

      LIEUTENANT (triumphantly, taking the sabre). No such man: eh, General? (To the Lady.) I say: where’s my horse?

      LADY. Safe at Borghetto, waiting for you, Lieutenant.

      NAPOLEON (turning on them). Where are the despatches?

      LADY. You would never guess. They are in the most unlikely place in the world. Did you meet my sister here, any of you?

      LIEUTENANT. Yes. Very nice woman. She’s wonderfully like you; but of course she’s better looking.

      LADY (mysteriously). Well, do you know that she is a witch?

      GIUSEPPE (running down to them in terror, crossing himself). Oh, no, no, no. It is not safe to jest about such things. I cannot have it in my house, excellency.

      LIEUTENANT. Yes, drop it. You’re my prisoner, you know. Of course I don’t believe in any such rubbish; but still it’s not a proper subject for joking.

      LADY. But this is very serious. My sister has bewitched the General. (Giuseppe and the Lieutenant recoil from Napoleon.) General: open your coat: you will find the despatches