"but that you may the better pardon the boldness I showed in
listening to what you said, remember if I have made an ill use of

what I heard, if my hopes rose upon it, or if I was the more
encouraged to speak to you."

Here he began to relate how he had overheard her conversation
with Monsieur de Cleves; but she interrupted him before he had

finished; "Say no more of it," said she, "I see how you came
to be so well informed; I suspected you knew the business but too

well at the Queen-Dauphin's, who learned this adventure from
those you had entrusted with it."

Upon this Monsieur de Nemours informed her in what manner the
thing came to pass; "No excuses," says she; "I have long

forgiven you, without being informed how it was brought about;
but since you have learned from my ownself what I designed to

conceal from you all my life, I will acknowledge to you that you
have inspired me with sentiments I was unacquainted with before I

saw you, and of which I had so slender an idea, that they gave me
at first a surprise which still added to the pain that constantly

attends them: I am the less ashamed to make you this confession" target="_blank" title="n.招供；认错；交待">confession,
because I do it at a time when I may do it without a crime, and

because you have seen that my conduct has not been governed by my
affections."

"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 seeingwithal 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" target="_blank" title="n.招供；认错；交待">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."
"You have not flattered yourself," replied she; "the reasons

of my duty would not perhaps appear so strong to me without that
distinction of which you doubt, and it is that which makes me

apprehendunfortunate consequences from your alliance." "I
have nothing to answer, Madam," replied he, "when you tell me

you apprehendunfortunate consequences; but I own, that after all
you have been pleased to say to me, I did not expect from you so

cruel a reason." "The reason you speak of," replied Madam de
Cleves, "is so little disobliging as to you, that I don't know

how to tell it you." "Alas! Madam," said he, " how can you
fear I should flatter myself too much after what you have been

saying to me?" "I shall continue to speak to you," says she,
"with the same sincerity with which I begun, and I'll lay aside

that delicacy and reserve that modesty obliges one to in a first
conversation, but I conjure you to hear me without interruption.

"I think I owe the affection you have for me, the poor
recompsense not to hide from you any of my thoughts, and to let

you see them such as they really are; this in all probability
will be the only time I shall allow myself the freedom to

discover them to you; and I cannot confess without a blush, that
the certainty of not being loved by you, as I am, appears to me

so dreadful a misfortune, that if I had not invincible reasons
grounded on my duty, I could not resolve to subject myself to it;

I know that you are free, that I am so too, and that
circumstances are such, that the public perhaps would have no

reason to blame either you or me, should we unite ourselves
forever; but do men continue to love, when under engagements for

life? Ought I to expect a miracle in my favour? And shall I
place myself in a condition of seeing certainly that passion come

to an end, in which I should place all my felicity? Monsieur de
Cleves was perhaps the only man in the world capable of

continuing to love after marriage; it was my ill fate that I was
not able to enjoy that happiness, and perhaps his passion had not

lasted but that he found none, in me; but I should not have the,
same way of preserving yours; I even think your constancy is

owing to the obstacles you have met with; you have met with
enough to animate you to conquer them; and my unguarded actions,

or what you learned by chance, gave you hopes enough not to be
discouraged." "Ah! Madam," replied Monsieur de Nemours, "I

cannot keep the silence you enjoined me; you do me too much
injustice, and make it appear too clearly that you are far from

being prepossessed in my favour." "I confess," answered she,
"that my passions may lead me, but they cannot blind me; nothing

can hinder me from knowing that you are born with a disposition
for gallantry, and have all the qualities proper to give success;

you have already had a great many amours, and you will have more;
I should no longer be she you placed your happiness in; I should

see you as warm for another as you had been for me; this would
grievously vex me, and I am not sure I should not have the

torment of jealousy; I have said too much to conceal from you
that you have already made me know what jealousy is, and that I

suffered such cruel inquietudes the evening the Queen gave me
Madam de Themines's letter, which it was said was addressed to