Did I? I thought it was so long ago!... I wish to go to Elba with him so much, But the Allies prevented me. And why? I would not have disgraced him, or themselves! I would have gone to him at Fontainebleau, With my eight horses and my household train In dignity, and quitted him no more.... Although I am his wife no longer now, I think I should have gone in spite of them, Had I not feared perversions might be sown Between him and the woman of his choice For whom he sacrificed me. SECOND LADY It is more Than she thought fit to do, your Majesty. JOSEPHINE Perhaps she was influenced by her father's ire, Or diplomatic reasons told against her. And yet I was surprised she should allow Aught secondary on earth to hold her from A husband she has outwardly, at least, Declared attachment to. FIRST LADY Especially, With ever one at hand--his son and hers-- Reminding her of him. JOSEPHINE Yes.... Glad am I I saw that child of theirs, though only once. But--there was not full truth--not quite, I fear-- In what I told the Emperor that day He led him to me at Bagatelle, That 'twas the happiest moment of my life. I ought not to have said it. No! Forsooth My feeling had too, too much gall in it To let truth shape like that!--I also said That when my arms were round him I forgot That I was not his mother. So spoke I, But oh me,--I remembered it too well!-- He was a lovely child; in his fond prate His father's voice was eloquent. One might say I am well punished for my sins against him! SECOND LADY You have harmed no creature, madame; much less him! JOSEPHINE O but you don't quite know!... My coquetries In our first married years nigh racked him through. I cannot think how I could wax so wicked!... He begged me come to him in Italy, But I liked flirting in fair Paris best, And would not go. The independent spouse At that time was myself; but afterwards I grew to be the captive, he the free. Always 'tis so: the man wins finally! My faults I've ransomed to the bottom sou If ever a woman did!... I'll write to him-- I must--again, so that he understands. Yes, I'll write now. Get me a pen and paper. FIRST LADY [to Second Lady] 'Tis futile! She is too far gone to write; But we must humour her. [They fetch writing materials. On returning to the bed they find her motionless. Enter EUGENE and QUEEN HORTENSE. Seeing the state their mother is in, they fall down on their knees by her bed. JOSEPHINE recognizes them and smiles. Anon she is able to speak again.] JOSEPHINE [faintly]