Napoleon Bonaparte – denne lille, magtfulde mand – var helt i sin Josefines vold, når det kom til kærligheden og dens forsmåede vrede. Og som enhver passioneret elsker svinger han fra frådende raseri til ømme løfter på en side eller to.
Brevet nedenfor er et af mange i de fine, små bøger: “Love Letters of Great Men”, SoHo Books.
I love you no longer; on the contrary, I detest you. You are a wretch, truly perverse, truly stupid, a real Cinderella.You never write to me at all, you do not love your husband; you know the pleasure your letters give him yet you cannot even manage to write him half a dozen lines, dashed off in a moment! What do you do all day, Madame?
What business I so vital that it robs you of the time to write to your faithful lover?
What attachment can be so stifling and pushing aside the love, the tender and constant love that you promised him?
Who can this wonderful new lover be who takes up you every moment, rules your days and prevents you from devoting your attention to your husband?
Beware Josefine; one fine night the doors will be broken down and there I shall be. In truth, I am worried, my love, to have no news from you; write me a four page letter instantly made up from those delightful words which fill my heart with emotion and joy.
I hope to hold you in my arms before long, when I shall lavish upon you a million kisses, burning as the equatorial sun.
Napoleon Bonaparte, Paris 1797