"Can you believe, Madam," said Monsieur de Nemours, falling on his

knees, "but I shall expire at your feet with joy and transport?" "I

have told you nothing," said she smiling, "but what you knew too well

before." "Ah! Madam," said he, "what a difference is there between

learning it by chance, and knowing it from yourself, and seeing withal

that you are pleased I know it." "It is true," answered she, "I would

have you know it, and I find a pleasure in telling it you; I don't even

know if I do not tell it you more for my own sake, than for yours; for,

after all, this confession will have no consequences, and I shall

follow the austere rules which my duty imposes upon me." "How! Madam;

you are not of this opinion," replied Monsieur de Nemours; "you are no

longer under any obligation of duty; you are at liberty; and if I

durst, I should even tell you, that it is in your power to act so, that

your duty shall one day oblige you to preserve the sentiments you have

for me."

"My duty," replied she, "forbids me to think of any man, but

of you the last in the world, and for reasons which are unknown to

you." "Those reasons perhaps are not unknown to me," answered he, "but

they are far from being good ones. I believe that Monsieur de Cleves

thought me happier than I was, and imagined that you approved of those

extravagancies which my passion led me into without your approbation."

"Let us talk no more of that adventure," said she; "I cannot bear the

thought of it, it giving me shame, and the consequences of it have been

such that it is too melancholy a subject to be spoken of; it is but too

true that you were the cause of Monsieur de Cleves's death; the

suspicions which your inconsiderate conduct gave him, cost him his life

as much as if you had taken it away with your own hands: judge what I

ought to have done, had you two fought a duel, and he been killed; I

know very well, it is not the same thing in the eye of the world, but

with me there's no difference, since I know that his death was owing to

you, and that it was on my account."

"Ah! Madam," said Monsieur de

Nemours, "what phantom of duty do you oppose to my happiness? What!

Madam, shall a vain and groundless fancy hinder you from making a man

happy, for whom you have an inclination? What, have I had some ground

to hope I might pass my life with you? has my fate led me to love the

most deserving lady in the world? have I observed in her all that can

make a mistress adorable? Has she had no disliking to me? Have I

found in her conduct everything which perhaps I could wish for in a

wife? For in short, Madam, you are perhaps the only person in whom

those two characters have ever concurred to the degree they are in you;

those who marry mistresses, by whom they are loved, tremble when they

marry them, and cannot but fear lest they should observe the same

conduct towards others which they observed towards them; but in you,

Madam, I can fear nothing, I see nothing in you but matter of

admiration: have I had a prospect of so much felicity for no other end

but to see it obstructed by you? Ah! Madam, you forget, that you have

distinguished me above other men; or rather, you have not distinguished

me; you have deceived yourself, and I have flattered myself."




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