Oh, those beautiful white
hands! many a time have they patted the cheek of poor Josephine, and
played with the black ringlets of her hair. She is dead now, and cold,
poor creature; and so are Hortense and bold Eugene, than whom the world
"never saw a curtier knight," as was said of King Arthur's Sir Lancelot.
What a day would it have been for those three could they have lived
until now, and seen their hero returning! Where's Ney? His wife sits
looking out from M. Flahaut's window yonder, but the bravest of the
brave is not with her. Murat too is absent: honest Joachim loves the
Emperor at heart, and repents that he was not at Waterloo: who knows
but that at the sight of the handsome swordsman those stubborn English
"canaille" would have given way. A king, Sire, is, you know, the
greatest of slaves--State affairs of consequence--his Majesty the King
of Naples is detained no doubt. When we last saw the King, however, and
his Highness the Prince of Elchingen, they looked to have as good
health as ever they had in their lives, and we heard each of them calmly
calling out "FIRE!" as they have done in numberless battles before.
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