The news of the death of his sister Elisa also affected him deeply.
After a struggle with his feelings, which had nearly overpowered him, he
rose, supported himself on Antommarchi's arm; and regarding him
steadfastly, said, "Well, Doctor! you see Elisa has just shown me the
way. Death, which seemed to have forgotten my family, has begun to
strike it; my turn cannot be far off. What think you?"--"Your Majesty is
in no danger: you are still reserved for some glorious enterprise."--
"Ah, Doctor! I have neither strength nor activity nor energy; I am no
longer Napoleon. You strive in vain to give me hopes, to recall life
ready to expire. Your care can do nothing in spite of fate: it is
immovable: there is no appeal from its decisions. The next person of our
family who will follow Elisa to the tomb is that great Napoleon who
hardly exists, who bends under the yoke, and who still, nevertheless
keeps Europe in alarm. Behold, my good friend, how I look on my
situation! As for me, all is over: I repeat it to you, my days will soon
close on this miserable rock."--"We returned," says Antommarchi, "into
his chamber. Napoleon lay down' in bed. 'Close my windows,' he said;
leave me to myself; I will send for you by-and-by. What a delightful
thing rest is! I would not exchange it for all the thrones in the world!
What an alteration! How I am fallen! I, whose activity was boundless,
whose mind never slumbered, am now plunged into a lethargic stupor, so
that it requires an effort even to raise my eyelids. I sometimes
dictated to four or five secretaries, who wrote as fast as words could be
uttered, but then I was NAPOLEON--now I am no longer anything. My
strength--my faculties forsake me. I do not live--I merely exist.'"

From this period the existence of Napoleon was evidently drawing to a
close his days were counted. Whole hours, and even days, were either
passed in gloomy silence or spent in pain, accompanied by distressing