艾炙的排病反应:昔日不可一世的拿破侖：男人的事業建立在戰場和女人的胸脯上

　　1796年，年輕的拿破侖因為成功鎮壓反叛，成了巴黎社交宴會上頗具盛名的新星將領。在一次宴會中，他結識了比他大6歲的約瑟芬，儘管約瑟芬是帶有兩個孩子的寡婦，但是她所獨有的魅力把拿破侖迷得神魂顛倒，兩人認識3個月後就結婚了。婚後，拿破侖奉命前往意大利戰場，約瑟芬則留在了巴黎。拿破侖一直寫信邀約瑟芬前去同聚，但都被約瑟芬以各種理由回絕，而且約瑟芬平時極少回信。其實在拿破侖走後不久，約瑟芬就與另一位年輕軍官墜入情網，兩人一度雙宿雙歸。拿破侖後來知道了實情，他對約瑟芬原本熾熱的心也漸漸冷卻下來，但仍經常給她寫信、關心她。拿破侖於1804年在巴黎登位為法國皇帝，他和約瑟芬也再次舉行了婚禮。約瑟芬一直無法生育，拿破侖最終與她離婚。但離婚後的拿破侖依然惦念著約瑟芬，除了每年都會給她數目可觀的費用，還會不時地去和她幽會重溫舊情。

　　拿破侖的信中，可以看出他對約瑟芬深深的迷戀，幾乎征服整個歐洲大陸的錚錚鐵漢，也敵不過一個女人的柔情寸寸。書信的字裡行間，全是內心的悲涼、無奈。他面對的是一份永遠都沒有回應的愛，一個永遠也打動不了的愛人……

    　我沒有一天不在愛著你

　　拿破侖·波拿巴

　　致

　　約瑟芬

　　我沒有一天不在愛著你，沒有一夜不在想著把你緊摟在懷裡。甚至每次舉杯時，總是忍不住譴責那促使我離開心上人的榮譽和野心。在率軍奔走、檢閱營地的時候，可愛的約瑟芬，我心中唯有你。我深深地想念著你，你佔有了我全部的心思。如果說，我像羅納河急流那樣匆匆離你遠去，那只是為了能盡早與你團聚。如果說，我夜半起床工作，那也只是為了可以讓我溫柔的愛人能提前到來。可是，你在23～26日間唯一的一封信上竟稱我為"您"！你居然客客氣氣地稱呼我為"您"！"您"自己！壞蛋，你怎麼寫得出這樣的信！它是多麼冷漠！另外，從23～26日，有整整4天時間，你都幹什麼去了，怎麼不給你的丈夫寫信？

　　啊，我的心肝，這個"您"和一連4天隻字不寫，會使我嚮往早年我不為愛情沉迷的那些歲月。讓造成這一切的那個罪人倒霉去吧！讓他在懲罰中領略一下我的痛苦吧！什麼叫地獄的酷刑，什麼是復仇女神的蛇蠍？你的冷淡！兩周後又會是什麼樣子？我內心淒楚悲涼。我的心靈在受奴役，我的想像讓我不寒而慄。你不那麼愛我了，可能你已經得到了別的安慰。有朝一日，你不再愛我時，告訴我，我至少可以知道怎樣去承受這種不幸……

　　別了，我的愛妻。我生命中的磨難、快樂、希望和主宰。我愛你，又懼怕你。你激起我最柔軟的溫情，你又喚醒我如雷鳴火山般的感情風暴。我不祈求你永遠愛我，也沒有要求你的忠貞，我只要求事實的真相和坦率。當有一天你對我說"我不那麼愛你了"，那將是我愛情的末日，我生命的終結。要是我的心竟卑賤到只投入愛而不求回報，單相思，那麼我的怒牙會把它咬碎！約瑟芬！約瑟芬！你記得我有幾次對你說過，大自然給了我堅強、果斷的意志，你卻是用花邊和薄紗製成的。你已不再愛我了？原諒我，我生命的主宰，我的腦子被緊張的想像攪得一團亂，裝滿了你的心則被恐懼深深折磨，我痛苦得無以言語，我甚至無法再稱呼你波拿巴這個姓。

　　請盡快給我回信……

　　再見！啊，如果你不再那麼愛我，或者你就從來沒有愛過我，那我就真的太可憐了。

　　波拿巴

   　又及：今年打仗，已不同於往日。我已讓人給軍隊下發肉食、麵包和飼料。我的騎兵即將突然出擊，我的士兵對我顯示出信任，這是難以用語言表達的。只有你讓我擔憂，只有你，我生命的歡樂和磨難。吻你的子女，信上你卻沒有提到他們。上帝，你提一下不也可以讓你的信長上半倍嘛。當然，那樣一來，你的訪問者可要失去上午10點就能見到你的歡樂了！啊，女人！！！

　　1796年3月31日

　　"I Have Not Spent a Day Without Loving You"

　　Napoleon Bonaparte

　　To

　　Josephine

　　I have not spent a day without loving you; I have not spent a night without embracing you; I have not so much as drunk a single cup of tea without cursing the pride and ambition which force me to remain separated from the moving spirit of my life.

　　In the midst of my duties, whether I am at the head of my army or inspecting the camps, my beloved Josephine stands alone in my heart, occupies my mind, fills my thoughts.

　　If I am moving away from you with the speed of the Rhone torrent, it is only that I may see you again more quickly.

　　If I rise to work in the middle of the night, it is because this may hasten by a matter of days the arrival of my sweet love.

　　Yet in your letter of the 23rd, and 26th. Ventose, you call me vous. Vous yourself! Ah! Wretch, how could you have written this letter? How cold it is? And then there are those four days between the 23rd, and the 26th; what were you doing that you failed to write to your husband?...

　　Ah, my love, that vous, those four days made me long for my former indifference. Woe to the person responsible! May he as punishment and penalty, experience what my convictions and the evidence (which is in your friend's favor) would make me experience! Hell has no torments great enough! Nor do the Furies have serpents enough! Vous! Vous! Ah! How will things stand in two weeks? ... My spirit is heavy; my heart is fettered and I am terrified by my fantasies...

　　You love me less; but you will get over the loss. One day you will love me no longer; at least tell me; then I shall know how I have come to deserve this misfortune. Farewell, my wife: the torment, joy, hope and moving which draw me close to Nature, and with violent impulses as tumultuous as thunder. I ask of you neither eternal love, nor fidelity, but simply... truth, unlimited honesty.

　　The day when you say "I love you less", will mark the end of my love and the last day of my life. If my heart were base enough to love without being loved in return I would tear it to pieces. Josephine! Josephine! Remember what I have sometimes said to you: Nature has endowed me with a virile and decisive character. It has built yours out of lace and gossamer. Have you ceased to love me?

　　Forgive me, love of my life, my soul is racked by conflicting forces. My heart obsessed by you, is full of fears which prostrate me with misery... I am distressed not to be calling you by name. I shall wait for you to write it.

　　Farewell! Ah! If you love me less you can never have loved me. In that case I shall truly be pitiable.

　　Bonaparte

　　P.S. The war this year has changed beyond recognition. I have had meat, bread and fodder distributed; my armed cavalry will soon be on the march. My soldiers are showing inexpressible confidence in me; you alone are a source of chagrin to me; you alone are the joy and torment of my life. I send a kiss to your children, whom you do not mention. My God! If you did, your letters would be half as long again. Then visitors at ten o'clock in the morning would not have the pleasure of seeing you. Woman!!!