Nap, with the hopes of peace delighted, The Russian Emperor invited, And for this interview, with craft, Had been prepar’d a pretty raft, Which on the river Niemen floated, With two commodious tents, devoted To the sole use of the contractors, Who were indeed conspicuous actors; The signal given, as commanded, Each from his boat together landed, And on this raft, their ends to get, By Nap, was Alexander met-- Exchanging the fraternal hug They took their seats in manner snug; When Nap began his wheedling jargon, And made, depend on’t, a good bargain. The peace of Tilsit, as recorded, A temporary rest afforded. And now three sovereigns, they say, Sat down together very gay: Meaning the Emperor of Russia, Our hero, and the King of Prussia: Their visits to each other, they Alternately were wont to pay. Napoleon talk’d of this and that, And entertain’d them with his chat. Their life guards, who were much delighted, To dinner, were by Nap invited, The brotherly embrace went round, There was not a discordant sound. In harmony the day they spent, Each countenance display’d content. Now matters were so well arrang’d, A while they uniforms exchang’d, And after they had dined, and talk’d, Together through the streets they walked. Ansell drew (July 1807) ‘An Imperial Bonne bouche, or the dinner at Tilsit.’ Napoleon, attended by his guards, sits on one side of the table, and the Emperor of Russia opposite to him; the latter has but an empty plate, and a castor of cayenne pepper before him, whilst Napoleon is stuffing his mouth with ‘Continental slices,’ and has besides, immediately before him, ‘Austerlitz biscuit,’ ‘Friedland Pye,’ and ‘Eylau Custard,’ which he intends carving with his sword. But he banters his brother Emperor with ‘My dear Brother, you dont eat; What is the matter with you? see what a hearty meal our other beloved Cousin, and brother, is making, from the Crumbs that fall from the table.’ And Prussia is seen on his knees, picking up some fragments of a ‘Prussian Cake.’ Russia, with expectant knife and fork, looks very blankly at his _confrère_, and replies: ‘How the deuce, brother, am I to eat when you keep everything to yourself?’