Emperor (gleaming). I can fling a million men within the week across the border by way of Alsace and Lorraine.
Officer (with a frown). There are a hundred gates to open that way.
Emperor. My guns shall open them.
Officer (with meaning). You can think of no easier road, Sire?
Emperor. I think of it night and day.
Officer. One further north—through Belgium?
Emperor. If I could dare! But no, that road is barred.
Officer (misunderstanding). On the contrary, Sire——
Emperor. Barred by a fortress no gun of mine may bear against—by honor, by my plighted word.
Officer. Yet, Sire——