Letter 013 — XIII
Original French
Marmirolo, 19 juillet 1796.
Il y a deux jours que je suis sans lettre de toi. Voilà trente fois aujourd’hui que je me suis fait cette observation; tu sens que cela est bien triste; tu ne peux pas douter cependant de la tendre et unique sollicitude que tu m’inspires. Nous avons attaqué hier Mantoue. Nous l’avons chauffée avec deux batteries à boulets rouges et des mortiers. Toute la nuit, cette misérable ville a brûlé. Ce spectacle était horrible et imposant. Nous nous sommes emparés de plusieurs ouvrages extérieurs, nous ouvrons la tranchée cette nuit. Je vais partir pour Castiglione demain avec le quartier général, et je compte y coucher. J’ai reçu un courrier de Paris. Il y avait deux lettres pour toi; je les ai lues. Cependant, bien que cette action me paraisse toute simple et que tu m’en aies donné la permission l’autre jour, je crains que cela ne te fâche, et cela m’afflige bien. J’aurais voulu les recacheter. Fi! ce serait une horreur. Si je suis coupable, je te demande grâce; je te jure que ce n’est pas par jalousie; non, certes, j’ai de mon adorable amie une trop grande opinion pour cela. Je voudrais que tu me donnasses permission entière de lire tes lettres; avec cela il n’y aurait plus de remords ni de crainte. Achille arrive en courrier de Milan; pas de lettres de mon adorable amie! Adieu, mon unique bien! Quand pourras-tu venir me rejoindre? Je viendrai te prendre moi-même à Milan. Mille baisers aussi brûlants que mon cœur, aussi purs que toi. Je fais appeler le courrier; il me dit qu’il est passé chez toi, et que tu lui as dit que tu n’avais rien à lui ordonner. Fi! méchante, laide, cruelle, tyranne, petit joli monstre! Tu te ris de mes menaces, de mes sottises; ah! si je pouvais, tu sais bien, t’enfermer dans mon cœur je t’y mettrais en prison. Apprends-moi que tu es gaie, bien portante et bien tendre.
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 19, 1796.
It has been two days since I had a letter from you. I have made that observation to myself thirty times today; you can feel how sad it is. You cannot doubt, however, the tender and singular concern you inspire in me. Yesterday we attacked Mantua. We gave it a hot reception with two batteries firing red-hot shot and mortars. All night that miserable city burned. The sight was horrible and imposing. We captured several outer works; tonight we open the trench. Tomorrow I shall leave with headquarters for Castiglione, where I expect to sleep. I received a courier from Paris. There were two letters for you; I read them. Yet although the action seems quite natural to me, and you gave me permission the other day, I fear it may anger you, and that distresses me greatly. I wanted to seal them again. Shame! That would be dreadful. If I am guilty, I ask your pardon; I swear it was not from jealousy; no, certainly not, I think too highly of my adorable friend for that. I wish you would give me full permission to read your letters; then there would be no more remorse or fear. Achille arrives as courier from Milan; no letters from my adorable friend! Farewell, my only treasure! When can you come and join me? I shall come and fetch you myself in Milan. A thousand kisses as burning as my heart, as pure as you. I send for the courier; he tells me he called on you and you told him you had nothing for him to do. Shame! Wicked, ugly, cruel tyrant, pretty little monster! You laugh at my threats, my foolishness; ah, if I could, you know, shut you up in my heart, I would make you a prisoner there. Tell me that you are cheerful, healthy, and full of tenderness.
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 19, 1796.
For two days I have had no letter from you. I have remarked on it thirty times today; you can imagine how sad that is. Yet you cannot doubt the tender concern I feel for you alone. Yesterday we attacked Mantua, heating it up with two batteries firing red-hot shot and with mortars. The wretched city burned all night. It was a terrible and impressive sight. We have taken several outworks and shall open the trenches tonight. Tomorrow headquarters and I set out for Castiglione; I intend to spend the night there. A dispatch rider came from Paris with two letters addressed to you, which I opened and read. The act seems perfectly natural to me, and you allowed it the other day; nevertheless I worry that it may displease you, and that grieves me deeply. I wished I could reseal them. For shame! What a horrible thing that would be. If I am guilty, I beg your pardon. I swear it was not jealousy; certainly not, I think far too highly of my beloved for that. I wish you would allow me unconditionally to read your correspondence; then I would have neither remorse nor fear. Achille has arrived as a courier from Milan: no letters from my beloved! Goodbye, my one treasure! When can you come and join me? I will fetch you myself from Milan. A thousand kisses, pure as you are and hot as my heart. I have called for the courier; he says he stopped at your place and you told him you had nothing to ask of him. Fie! You wicked, ugly, cruel little tyrant, you pretty little monster! My threats and foolishness make you laugh. Ah, you know, if only I could shut you up in my heart, I would keep you prisoner there. Tell me you are cheerful, healthy and very loving.
About this section
Letter 013 — XIII 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 13 of 172 in the work, which is kept in the European tradition.
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