Madam de Cleves understood very well what he said, but made him no
answer; her care was to prevent Madam de Mercoeur from going into the
bower, because the Duke de Nemours's picture was there, and she had no
mind she should see it; she managed the matter so well, that the time
passed away insensibly, and Madam de Mercoeur began to talk of going
home: but when Madam de Cleves found that the Duke and his sister did
not go together, she plainly saw to what she was going to be exposed;
she found herself under the same embarrassment she was in at Paris, and
took also the same resolution; her fear, lest this visit should be a
further confirmation of her husband's suspicions, did not a little
contribute to determine her; and to the end Monsieur de Nemours might
not remain alone with her, she told Madam de Mercoeur she would wait
upon her to the borders of the forest, and ordered her chariot to be
got ready. The Duke was struck with such a violent grief to find that
Madam de Cleves still continued to exercise the same rigours towards
him, that he turned pale that moment. Madam de Mercoeur asked him if he
was ill, but he looked upon Madam de Cleves without being perceived by
anybody else, and made her sensible by his looks that he had no other
illness besides despair: however, there was no remedy but he must let
them go together without daring to follow them; after what he had told
his sister, that he was to go directly to Court, he could not return
with her, but went to Paris, and set out from thence the next day.
Monsieur de Cleves's gentleman had observed him all the while; he
returned also to Paris, and when he found Monsieur de Nemours was set
out for Chambort, he took post to get thither before him, and to give
an account of his journey; his master expected his return with
impatience, as if the happiness or unhappiness of his life depended
upon it. As soon as he saw him, he judged from his countenance and his silence,
that the news he brought was very disagreeable; he was struck with
sorrow, and continued some time with his head hung down, without being
able to speak; at last he made signs with his hand to him to withdraw;
"Go," says he, "I see what you have to say to me, but I have not the
power to hear it." "I can acquaint you with nothing," said the
gentleman, "upon which one can form any certain judgment; it is true,
the Duke de Nemours went two nights successively into the garden in the
forest, and the day after he was at Colomiers with the Duchess of
Mercoeur." "'Tis enough," replied Monsieur de Cleves, still making
signs to him to withdraw, "'tis enough; I want no further information."
The gentleman was forced to leave his master, abandoned to his despair;
nor ever was despair more violent. Few men of so high a spirit, and so
passionately in love, as the Prince of Cleves, have experienced at the
same time the grief arising from the falsehood of a mistress, and the
shame of being deceived by a wife.