Read Online Napoleon Symphony: A Novel in Four Movements by Anthony Burgess - Free Book Online

slower, more expertly and considerately amorous, the situation would have called out another dagger, and not in play, when Foures strode in. When Foures strode in, she was decently covered with a sheet and he, Sultan El Kebir, gaped under his turban. “No,” he said. Foures did not at first recognize him and was ready to say something about filthy natives, then he saw who it was. He said sarcastically:
    “So sorry to intrude on the Citizen General’s fancy-dress party.”
    “How dare you, sir! Out! Knock!”
    “I didn’t realize a man had to get his commander-in-chief’s permission to enter a room where his wife is. In bed. Sir.”
    “You,” Bonaparte said, “should be in Paris. I entrusted you with urgent dispatches to the Directory. Report at once to your company commander and, with my compliments, request him to make out the charge.” He was in control, despite the absurd costume and the naked woman in the bed.
    “Urgent dispatches my bottom. Your David and Bathsheba plan misfired, Citizen General. The British Navy captured our ship and kindly brought us back to Egypt.”
    Only Bellitote saw the humor of that. Her laughter shook gold hair over her shoulders. Her husband cried out: “False little whore.” That did not stop her laughter. Nor did Bonaparte rebuke the intemperate language; instead he spoke metaphysics. He said:
    “Your wife is not officially here. No wife is officially here. You smuggled your wife aboard at Toulon dressed as a drummer boy. This is a gross breach of discipline. You merit cashiering. There is a shameful ceremony attached to cashiering. It is performed in open square, before the entire regiment. Then, with your badges of rank cut off and your sword surrendered, you are automatically re-enlisted. But this time as a private soldier.”
    “You’re threatening me, Citizen General.”
    “The official becomes the real.” He shivered as he uttered the word, but he knew this would not be seen under the loose silk: “Divorce. Retroactive divorce. The papers can be made out tomorrow morning. Suitably backdated. That makes everybody free. Madame Foures free to come on board at Toulon as an army laundress. You free to continue in what, I’m sure, will be a highly successful military career.”
    Lieutenant Foures swore without pause for two minutes. Bellitote tut-tutted but Bonaparte listened with respect. At the end he said:
    “I’ll give you a brief free lesson, Lieutenant. In generalship. Good generalship is a matter of choosing, not of having to submit to the choice of others. You choose when to attack and where. Sometimes you also choose whether a thing actually happened or not. Time is a terrain whereon certain things can be eliminated. By choice. There. Don’t you think that’s a good lesson?”
    Foures just stood there, seeming to sulk. Then he smiled. “Poor bugger,” he said, adding: “With respect, that is. Sir. Suppose it gets into the newspapers? You can’t wipe out what it says in the newspapers, can you? Well, it’s in the English newspapers. I learned that on board the ship.”
    “What is in the English newspapers? What are you driveling about?”
    “The British Navy captures everything. Everything that tries to get across the Mediterranean they just take. Like a letter you wrote. It was about—you will know, Citizen General, who it was about. To your brother, they said it was. Try choosing not to have let that happen. Sir.”
    “Out out out get out—”
    “Just going. Sir. Not forgetting madame”
    T alleyrand had dinner alone with Paul Barras. “This saltcellar,” Talleyrand said, admiring it under the bright candles, “looks vaguely ecclesiastical.”
    It was Friday and they had begun with a thick soup of pork kidneys. They had now been served with ham slices poached in Madeira. There was a dish of smoking spinach with croutons stuck in it like little golden gravestones. “ Credite experto ” Barras said. “From Bologna. Saliceti told me the name of