Your Imperial Majesty —— Not of the value of a bird 's feather until it has your royal signature . The —— For that I strove , but their mean minds suspected me . Sire , your signature ! I vouch for it . So well we 've chosen our time , it finds her at issue with herself , her wild women let loose , her colonies ready to turn against her , Ireland aflame , the paltry British Army sulking with the civic powers . How well you know her , Sire ! All she needs is some small excuse for saying , “ I acted in the best interests of my money-bags . ” That excuse I 've found for her . I have promised in your name a secret compact with her , that if she stands aloof the parts of France we do not at present need we will not at present take . The British Government will not think so . Trust me to know them , Sire . Your signature ? EMPERORI can fling a million men within the week across the border by way of Alsace and Lorraine . OFFICERThere are a hundred gates to open that way . I am with you , Sire , but I fear it will not be so with France . She has grown cynical . She will find the road through Belgium . Your Imperial Majesty judges others by yourself . I have private ground for fearing that in the greed for a first advantage France will call the treaty but a scrap of paper . She will say that necessity knows no law , or some such dastard words . France will hack her way through her . I ask your pardon , Sire . It came , somehow , pat to my lips . Bonaparte would have acted quickly . The paper , Sire . Overmuch reflection —— Your Imperial Majesty has signed ? You were the friend of Austria . Nay , Sire ——