Letter 011 — XI
Original French
Marmirolo, 17 juillet 1796, neuf heures du soir.
Je reçois ta lettre, mon adorable amie; elle a rempli mon cœur de joie. Je te suis obligé de la peine que tu as prise de me donner de tes nouvelles, ta santé doit être meilleure aujourd’hui; je suis sûr que tu es guérie. Je t’engage fort à monter à cheval, cela ne peut manquer de te faire du bien. Depuis que je t’ai quittée j’ai toujours été triste. Mon bonheur est d’être près de toi. Sans cesse je repasse dans ma mémoire tes baisers, tes larmes, ton aimable jalousie, et les charmes de l’incomparable Joséphine allument sans cesse une flamme vive et brûlante dans mon cœur et dans mes sens. Quand, libre de toute inquiétude, de toute affaire, pourrais-je passer tous mes instants près de toi, n’avoir qu’à t’aimer, et ne penser qu’au bonheur de te le dire et de te le prouver? Je t’enverrai ton cheval, mais j’espère que tu pourras bientôt me rejoindre.
Je croyais t’aimer, il y a quelques jours; mais, depuis que t’ai vue, je sens que je t’aime mille fois plus encore. Depuis que je te connais, je t’adore tous les jours davantage: cela prouve combien la maxime de La Bruyère, que l’amour vient tout d’un coup, es fausse. Tout, dans la nature, a un cours et différents degrés d’accroissement. Ah! je t’en prie, laisse-moi voir quelques-uns de tes défauts! Sois moins belle, moins gracieuse, moins tendre, moins bonne surtout; ne sois jamais jalouse, ne pleure jamais; tes larmes m’ôtent la raison, brûlent mon sang. Crois bien qu’il n’est plus en mon pouvoir d’avoir une pensée qui ne soit pas à toi et une idée qui ne te soit pas soumise. Repose-toi bien: retablis vite ta santé. Viens me rejoindre, et au moins, qu’avant de mourir, nous puissions dire: « Nous fûmes tant de jours heureux! »
Million de baisers, et même à Fortuné, en dépit de sa méchanceté.
Musean translation
Machine-assisted Musean English translated from the French of the 172 Napoleon letters selected from Tancrède Martel, ed., Œuvres littéraires de Napoléon Bonaparte, tome 1 (Albert Savine, Paris, 1888). French Wikisource contributors supplied the scan-backed transcription: https://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/Livre:Bonaparte_-_Œuvres_littéraires,_tome_1,_1888.djvu (page histories credit contributors). The transcription is CC BY-SA 4.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/; this adapted text and translations are shared under the same license. Extraction removes markup and editorial notes; selected transcription repairs were checked against print images.
Marmirolo, July 17, 1796, nine in the evening.
I have received your letter, my adorable friend; it has filled my heart with joy. I am grateful for the trouble you took to send me news of yourself; your health must be better today; I am sure you are cured. I urge you to ride on horseback; it cannot fail to do you good. Since I left you I have been sad all the time. My happiness is to be near you. I constantly recall your kisses, your tears, your charming jealousy, and the charms of the incomparable Joséphine continually kindle a bright, burning flame in my heart and senses. When, free of every worry and every affair, shall I be able to spend all my moments near you, with nothing to do but love you, thinking only of the happiness of telling you so and proving it? I shall send you your horse, but I hope you can join me soon.
I thought I loved you a few days ago; but since I saw you, I feel I love you a thousand times more. Since I have known you, I adore you more every day: that proves how false La Bruyère's maxim is, that love comes all at once. Everything in nature has its course and different degrees of growth. Ah, I beg you, let me see some of your faults! Be less beautiful, less graceful, less tender, above all less good; never be jealous, never weep; your tears rob me of reason and burn my blood. Believe that it is no longer in my power to have a thought that is not yours, or an idea that is not subject to you. Rest well; recover your health quickly. Come and join me, so that at least before we die we may say: “We were happy for so many days!”
A million kisses, even for Fortuné, despite his wickedness.
Plain English translation
Independent machine-assisted Plain English translation from the 1888 Martel French edition, not a historical English translation. French Wikisource contributors supplied the scan-backed transcription: https://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/Livre:Bonaparte_-_Œuvres_littéraires,_tome_1,_1888.djvu (page histories credit contributors). The adapted transcription and translation are shared under CC BY-SA 4.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/. Extraction removes markup and editorial notes and makes documented transcription repairs. French-source model review is not human specialist certification or a complete scan collation.
Marmirolo, July 17, 1796, nine in the evening.
Your letter has arrived, my beloved, and filled my heart with joy. Thank you for taking the trouble to send me news. You must be feeling better today; indeed I am sure you are well again. I strongly urge you to ride; it cannot fail to do you good. I have been sad ever since I left you. My happiness is to be near you. I keep recalling your kisses, your tears and your charming jealousy, and the incomparable Joséphine’s charms continually set my heart and senses ablaze. When shall I be free of worries and business, able to spend every moment with you, with nothing to do but love you and think of the happiness of telling and showing you so? I will send you your horse, but hope you can soon join me.
A few days ago I thought I loved you; since seeing you, I find my love has grown a thousandfold. I have worshipped you more each day since we met: proof that La Bruyère was wrong to say love arrives suddenly. Everything in nature has its course and its stages of growth. Ah, please show me some defects! Have less beauty, grace and tenderness, and especially less goodness; never be jealous or shed tears. Your tears drive me mad and make my blood burn. Believe me, I no longer have it in my power to form a thought that is not yours, an idea that is not subject to you. Rest well and recover quickly. Come and join me, so that before we die we may at least say, “We spent so many days in happiness!”
A million kisses, even for Fortuné, despite his bad temper.
About this section
Letter 011 — XI is part of Letters to Josephine by Napoléon Bonaparte. This page sets the French original beside 2 direct-source translations, so any line can be checked against the source. It is part 11 of 172 in the work, which is kept in the European tradition.
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