This letter was one of the many written by Napoleon to his wife, Josephine. She was the epitome of the hot and cold coquette with Napoleon, her second husband. Her life before Napoleon was far from easy after a tumultuous martial separation with 2 children in tow and escaping the guillotine by hours. After those experiences, she became emotionally detached in her relations with men, Napoleon included. That coquettishness proved to be a devastatingly effective lure for him. Despite eventually divorcing her and remarrying in the hope of a male heir, his last word on his deathbed was Josephine.

Each word was written by my hand.

Dimensions: 30W x 1.5D x 70H in.

Frame constructed from glass

Silver finish

Rectangular shaped mirror

Beveled edges: leaning & standing floor design

The letter:

Verona, 13 November 1796

I do not love thee any more;

on the contrary, I detest thee.

Thou art horrid, very awkward, very stupid,

a very Cinderella. Thou dost not write me at all,

thou dost not love thy husband; thou knowest

and thou dost not write him the pleasure that thy letters afford him,

six lines of even haphazard scribble.

up your time from writing to your very good lover? What do you do then all day, Madame?

What matter of such importance is it that takes

Who can be this marvellous, What affection stifles and pushes on one side

the love, the tender and constant love,

which you have promised him?

from being solicitous about “your husband? this new lover who absorbs all your instants, tyrannises your entire days, and prevents you

Josephine, beware, one fine night the doors

and say those amiable things which fill will break open and I will be there.

In truth, I am anxious, my good amie,

at not receiving your news; write me quickly four pages,

my heart with sentiment and pleasure.

I hope before long to press you in my arms

and shall shower on you

a million burning kisses

as under the Equator.

Bonaparte