wear a serious air when I
salute you, France would laugh and scorn yourself and your tiara? Three
or four years ago, who would pronounce aloud the name of the founder of
your system? Pray, then, who would have spoken of the pope? Comedian,
eh! Sire, ye take footing rather quickly among us. And so, forsooth, you
are in ill-humor with me because I am not dolt enough to sign away the
liberties of the Gallican church, as Louis XIV. did. But I am not to be
duped in that fashion. In my grasp I hold you; by a nod I make you flit
from north to south, from east to west, like so many puppets. And now,
when it suits me to make-believe that I count you for something, merely
because you represent an antiquated idea which I wish to revive, you
have not the wit to see my drift, or affect not to perceive it. Seeing,
then, that I must speak out my whole mind, and put the matter just under
your nose, in order that you may see it--more particularly as you seem
to think yourself indispensable to me, and lift up your head in
consequence, as you drape yourself in your old dame's robe--I'll have
you to know that such airs do not in the least impose on me; and if you
persist in that course, I'll deal with your robe as Charles XII. did
with that of the grand vizier--I'll rend it for you with a dash of my
spur!"

He ceased. Throughout this tirade Pius maintained the same immobility of
attitude, the same calm on his visage. At its close, however, he just
looked up, smiled with something of bitterness, and sighed as he slowly
articulated the word, "_Tra-je-di-an-te!_"

Bonaparte at that moment was at the further end of the room, leaning on
the chimney-piece. Suddenly starting at the word, and turning round, his
whole person seemed to dilate, and his features to expand as passion
rose within him. His look became fixed, and his eyes flared; then with
the swiftness of an arrow he rushed toward the old man, as if with some
fell purpose. But he stopped short, snatched from the table a porcelain
vase, dashed it to pieces against the andirons, and stamped on its
fragments as they flew along the floor! Then pausing for an instant, as
if to catch breath, he flung himself on a seat in utter exhaustion. It
would be difficult to say which was the more awful--his sudden outburst
of rage, or his immobility and silence after it.

In some minutes the storm seemed gradually to subside, and a calm to
succeed. His look and bearing changed; something of depression