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: I am going to be killed responsibly, on horseback, as a compliment to the cavalry.
: General Feraud has made occasional attempts to kill me. That does not give him the right to claim my acquaintance.
: We came here to kill each other. Any ground is suitable for that.
: Isn't this marriage-broking getting a little out of fashion? Leonie
: Nothing sensible goes out of fashion.
[talking about a marriage
] Armand D'Hubert
: If I were to neglect making you a proposal, no blame would attach to you. And I think perhaps you might be saved from a... sad dull life. Adele
: If you neglect to make me a proposal, my uncle will go mad. Armand D'Hubert
: Damn it, you are not put on this earth to coddle your uncle.
] Armand D'Hubert
: You have kept me at your beck and call for fifteen years. I shall never again do what you demand of me. By every rule of single combat, from this moment your life belongs to me. Is that not correct? Then I shall simply declare you dead. In all of your dealings with me, you'll do me the courtesy to conduct yourself as a dead man. I have submitted to your notions of honor long enough. You will now submit to mine.
: You've insulted me! Armand D'Hubert
: I have strained my patience in order NOT to insult you. Gabriel Feraud
: I demand an apology!
: Would you let them spit on Napoleon Bonaparte? Armand D'Hubert
: Bonaparte? I fail to see what Bonaparte has to do with this.
: [upon meeting d'Hubert for the first time after d'Hubert has found him making boots
] I've not hitherto been privileged to meet a general of Bonaparte's army. Armand D'Hubert
] General of Brigade, sir, and only recently promoted. A mere imp of Satan; I cannot claim to be one of his demons. Chevalier
: [unthawing slightly
] You jest with me, sir. Armand D'Hubert
: In a neighborly way. Chevalier
: [gesturing to d'Hubert to be seated and sitting himself
] Let me make you a pair of boots. In a neighborly way. Armand D'Hubert
: I would esteem it an honor. Chevalier
: Good boots are not an honor, they are a pleasure. About the time that you were learning to be a soldier, I was learning to make boots. I've supported myself as a boot-maker; now that I'm an aristocrat once more, I have to drum up trade. Sloth is the curse of the aristoracy.
: [hands d'Hubert the list of executions
] Take a pen, my dear fellow, and cross out the name; I can't do everything for you. Armand D'Hubert
: [crosses off Feraud's name, then
] Your Excellency, I must beg you to keep my interefence a secret, most particularly from General Feraud. Fouche
: [takes back the list
] General Feraud, alive or dead, is not worth a moment's gossip.
: [to his sister Leonie about her matchmaking
] Meddle, meddle, meddle. Leonie
: [calmly sipping her tea
: [she's just felt her baby kick and has put d'Hubert's hand on her belly to feel
] Sir, kick for the general.
[the baby kicks and she reacts
: Perfect discipline! Armand D'Hubert
] That's not a grenadier. Most ladylike, I assure you. Adele
: HE'S not kicking YOU.
: What can I do?
[to avoid being challenged to a duel by Feraud
] Dr. Jacquin
: I have given the matter some thought. You can't fight if you're in different places. Physical impossibility. And you can't fight if you're opted in rank. Breach of discipline. And you can't fight if we are at war. Duels of nations take absolute precedence. So, keep away from him, keep ahead of him, and put your trust in Bonaparte.