The Fox of France

 Upon hearing Joseph's words, Armand became rather proud. "What's there to fear? It's just a ban on performing, isn't it? Even Gauny's 'Xi De' was banned once. To be banned just like 'Xi De' is nothing less than... why should we change it? No! Even if it's banned, even if they throw me in the Bastille for this, it's worth it! You must know, this is the immortal laurel crown of Apollo!"

"Well, this play will only be able to perform one or two times before they figure it out," Joseph remarked.

"No, that won't happen," Napoleon interjected suddenly. "Just like 'Xi De,' even if it's banned for a while, it will be performed again one day. And once it's performed again, it will become a timeless classic."

"I like the sound of that," Armand chuckled. "Napoleon, I'll toast to you!"

After saying this, Armand raised his arm and poured a large glass of brandy into his mouth. Napoleon, seeing this, wanted to imitate him, but his arm was stopped by Joseph.

"Armand can hold his liquor; drinking for him is like drinking water. Don't drink like him, or you'll fall before you can even say a few words, and that won't be any fun. When we used to drink with him, he'd drink as he pleased, and we'd just sip along," Joseph advised.

Napoleon glanced at Joseph and then at the thin-looking Armand. He seemed a bit skeptical but decided to follow Joseph's advice, taking a small sip.

"Alright, that's enough," Armand said. "I hope you can give me more sober opinions. So, how does your drinking compare to Joseph's?"

"Not as good as mine," Joseph replied.

"Not much worse," Napoleon almost immediately answered.

"Well, then you've taken a bit too much," Armand laughed. "Joseph can do some fuzzy math after just two glasses of brandy. Since you're about the same, take it slow."

"Lavaux, I have an idea," Napoleon said.

"Oh, you can just call me Armand, like Joseph does. 'Mr. Lavaux' is too formal, and it makes me uncomfortable. So, what's on your mind, Alexander?"

"I think, since this play has become so intense, intense to the point where it's almost certain to be banned, why not make it even more biting?" Napoleon suggested.

"Napoleon, you have a way of seeking excitement without fear of consequences. If we go that route, this play's fate won't be just banned and unbanned. It will turn into a cycle of being banned, unbanned, banned again, and unbanned again. And Armand will be at real risk of being thrown in the Bastille," Joseph commented as he sipped his brandy.

"Well, that's even better!" Armand exclaimed. "That would surpass Gauny! As for being thrown in the Bastille, compared to such an achievement, what's a trip to the guillotine? Napoleon, what do you think to make it more intense?"

Napoleon pondered for a moment. "Armand, you know, after the Battle of Apulia, Spartacus was killed in action, and Pompey had all six thousand captured rebel soldiers crucified. How about we include an image of one of the crucified rebel soldiers in the play, making him look like Jesus?"

"Oh, that's a brilliant idea! It'll infuriate the clergy!" Armand laughed.

"We can also have three crucified rebel soldiers engage in dialogue, just like in the Bible when Jesus was crucified with two other thieves," Napoleon continued enthusiastically.

"Ah, great idea! Great idea!" Armand agreed. "My previous ending was too sad and gloomy. This change will add a touch of brightness to the conclusion. Maybe I should revive the Greek chorus. In the final scene, Spartacus's lieutenant can rally the other crucified soldiers, saying, 'We may die, but we die as free warriors, not as slaves and puppets for others to play with. The name and legacy of Spartacus will live on forever!' Yes, perhaps I should make a major adjustment, reviving the Greek choir. At the end, Spartacus's lieutenant can shout to the other crucified soldiers, 'Let's sing our war song one last time!' Some soldiers start singing, and the whole choir joins in, creating a grand finale. This is fantastic! Napoleon, you're a genius! Much better than Joseph, really!"

Joseph listened, his lips slightly curved, but he didn't say anything. As for Napoleon, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and looked at Joseph.

"The lyrics for this song shouldn't be a problem; you can write them yourself. But can you find a composer good enough to create the music you want? Even if you find a talented composer, it's not guaranteed that they'll be able to compose the suitable music, and you'd also have to worry about whether they'd risk their necks to create it," Joseph cautioned. "With these changes, the fate of the play might shift from being performed soon to an uncertain delay."

In this era, there were indeed some talented composers, such as Haydn and Mozart. However, they weren't in France, and they might not be willing to compose a song for a play that praised a slave rebellion and was considered blasphemous. Perhaps only Beethoven dared to do such a thing, but at this moment, Beethoven was still an unknown teenager. His mature period was still a few years away. Of course, France had some musicians and even revolutionary musicians, like François-Joseph Gossec. However, compared to other countries, especially Austria, France's musical achievements paled. To the point that in 1788, during his visit to Paris, Mozart wrote to a friend, saying, "Regarding music, I am in the midst of savages... Ask anyone, just as long as they're not French, and if they're somewhat knowledgeable, they'll say the same... If I can escape with my life, I'll thank God..." So, finding a composer to meet Armand's demands wouldn't be easy.

"No worries," Armand reassured. "For a perfect play, it's worth waiting. Let's toast to a flawless tragedy... Ah, I'll toast, and you can follow... Haha..."

The concept of a "perfect tragedy" originally hailed from Aristotle's praise of Sophocles' 'Oedipus Rex.' However, Armand's words were a clear revelation of his ambition.

In the following days, Armand frequently visited Joseph, his enthusiasm replaced by a sense of dissatisfaction with the play. He felt that many aspects were inadequate, needing adjustments, even significant ones. After every modification, Armand often found himself unsatisfied with the result, feeling that the previous version was better.

Of course, the most troublesome matter remained the war song. Now, this song played a more significant role in the script, appearing at least three times: when Spartacus and his followers initiated the revolt, when they escaped from the cliff of Mount Vesuvius, and during the final crucifixion scene. The lyrics and music for this song had not been finalized yet. Armand had written more than ten versions of the lyrics, but he dismissed them all.

Joseph's "research" progressed smoothly during this period. He had already published several valuable papers. His collaboration with Lavaux was successful. Although nitroglycerin remained highly dangerous, the on-site production techniques had matured, and they were even being used in the mines owned by the Orleans family. This significantly increased the productivity of the Orleans family's mines, leading to a modest profit for Duke Philip. If France's industrial development could match that of Britain, the Duke would have earned even more.

As Duke Philip made money, Lavaux naturally earned his share and gained more recognition. Thanks to his crucial contribution, Joseph had also made some money, along with Lavaux's gratitude and support. Currently, Lavaux was proposing to give Joseph a provisional membership in the French Academy of Sciences.

This proposal had the support of Lavaux and Duke Philip, which meant that, despite some opposition, everyone knew that, based on Joseph's performance, he would eventually gain a position in the French Academy of Sciences. Even the strongest opponents realized that delaying this matter wouldn't change the inevitable outcome, so the opposition was mostly mild. Therefore, unless something unexpected happened, in a few months, or at most by next spring, Joseph would secure a provisional membership in the French Academy of Sciences.