“Sire, I cannot believe that you would arbitrarily imprison my mother if she gave you no reason for such severity.”—­“She would give me a dozen! . . .  I know her well.”—­“Sire, permit me to say that I am certain my mother would live in Paris in a way that would afford no ground of reproach; she would live retired, and would see only a very few friends.  In spite of your Majesty’s refusal I venture to entreat that you will give her a trial, were it only for six weeks or a month.  Permit her, Sire, to pass that time in Paris, and I conjure you to come to no final decision beforehand.”—­“Do you think I am to be deceived by these fair promises? . . .  I tell you it cannot be.  She would serve as a rallying point for the Faubourg St. Germain.  She see nobody, indeed!  Could she make that sacrifice?  She would visit and receive company.  She would be guilty of a thousand follies.  She would be saying things which she may consider as very good jokes, but which I should take seriously.  My government is no joke:  I wish this to be well known by everybody.”—­ “Sire, will your Majesty permit me to repeat that my mother has no wish whatever to mingle in society?  She would confine herself to the circle of a few friends, a list of whom she would give to your Majesty.  You, Sire, who love France so well, may form some idea of the misery my mother suffers in her banishment.  I conjure your Majesty to yield to my entreaties, and let us be included in the number of your faithful subjects.”—­“You!”—­“Yes, Sire; or if your Majesty persist in your refusal, permit a son to inquire what can have raised your displeasure against his mother.  Some say that it was my grandfather’s last work; but I can assure your Majesty that my mother had nothing to do with that.”—­ “Yes, certainly,” added Napoleon, with more ill-humour than he had hitherto manifested.  “Yes, certainly, that work is very objectionable.  Your grandfather was an ideologist, a fool, an old lunatic.  At sixty years of age to think of forming plans to overthrow my constitution!  States would be well governed, truly, under such theorists, who judge of men from books and the world from the map.”—­“Sire, since my grandfather’s plans are, in your Majesty’s eyes, nothing but vain theories, I cannot conceive why they should so highly excite your displeasure.  There is no political economist who has not traced out plans of constitutions.”—­“Oh! as to political economists, they are mere-visionaries, who are dreaming of plans of finance while they are unfit to fulfil the duties of a schoolmaster in the most insignificant village in the Empire.  Your grandfather’s work is that of an obstinate old man who died abusing all governments.”—­“Sire, may I presume to suppose, from the way in which you speak of it, that your Majesty judges from the report of malignant persons, and that you have not yourself read it.”