“I know everything!” Napoleon interrupted him. “I know everything. I know the number of your battalions as exactly as I know my own. You have not two hundred thousand men, and I have three times that number. I give you my word of honor,” said Napoleon, forgetting that his word of honor could carry no weight⁠—“I give you my word of honor that I have five hundred and thirty thousand men this side of the Vistula. The Turks will be of no use to you; they are worth nothing and have shown it by making peace with you. As for the Swedes⁠—it is their fate to be governed by mad kings. Their king was insane and they changed him for another⁠—Bernadotte, who promptly went mad⁠—for no Swede would ally himself with Russia unless he were mad.”

Napoleon grinned maliciously and again raised his snuffbox to his nose.