be fatigued, and one cannot but desire repose." "Repose,"

answered he, "is not very proper for one of your age; you are at
home, and at Court, in such a manner as cannot occasion

weariness, and I am rather afraid you desire to live apart from
me." "You would do me great wrong to think so," replied she

with yet more confusion, "but I beg you to leave me here; if you
could stay here, and without company, I should be very glad of

it; nothing would be more agreeable to me than your conversation
in this retirement, provided you would approve not to have about

you that infinite number of people, who in a manner never leave
you." "Ah! Madam," cries Monsieur de Cleves, "both your

looks and words convince me that you have reasons to desire to be
alone, which I don't know; I conjure you to tell them me." He

urged her a great while to inform him, without being able to
oblige her to it; and after she had excused herself in a manner

which still increased her husband's curiosity, she continued in a
deep silence, with her eyes cast down then, taking up the

discourse on a sudden, and looking upon him, "Force me not,"
said she, "to confess a thing to you which I have not the power

to confess, though I have often designed it; remember only, that
it is not prudent a woman of my years, and mistress of her own

conduct, should remain exposed in the midst of a Court." "What
is it, Madam," cried Monsieur de Cleves, "that you lead me to

imagine? I dare not speak it, for fear of offending you."
Madam de Cleves making no answer, her silence confirmed her

husband in what he thought; "You say nothing to me," says he,
"and that tells me clearly, that I am not mistaken." "Alas,

sir," answered she, falling on her knees, "I am going to make a
confession to you, such as no woman ever yet made to her husband;

but the innocence of my intentions, and of my conduct, give me
power to do it; it is true, I have reasons to absent myself from

Court, and I would avoid the dangers persons of my age are
sometimes liable to; I have never shown any mark of weakness, and

I cannot apprehend I ever shall, if you will permit me to retire
from Court, since now I have not Madam de Chartres to assist me

in my conduct; however dangerous a step I am taking, I take it
with pleasure to preserve myself worthy of you; I ask you a

thousand pardons, if I have sentiments which displease you, at
least I will never displease you by my actions; consider, that to

do what I do, requires more friendship and esteem for a husband
than ever wife had; direct my conduct, have pity on me, and if

you can still love me."
Monsieur de Cleves, all the while she spoke, continued leaning

his head on his hand, almost beside himself, and never thought of
raising her up. When she had done speaking, and he cast his eyes

upon her, and saw her on her knees with her face drowned in
tears, inimitably beautiful, he was ready to die for grief, and

taking her up in his arms, "Have you pity on me, Madam," says
he, "for I deserve it, and pardon me, if in the first moments of

an affliction so violent as mine, I do not answer as I ought to
so generous a proceeding as yours; I think you more worthy of

esteem and admiration than any woman that ever was, but I find
myself also the most unfortunate of men: you inspired me with

passion the first moment I saw you, and that passion has never
decayed; not your coldness, nor even enjoyment itself, has been

able to extinguish it; it still continues in its first force, and
yet it has not been in my power to kindle in your breast any

spark of love for me, and now I find you fear you have an
inclination for another; and who is he, Madam, this happy man

that gives you such apprehensions? How long has he charmed you?
What has he done to charm you? What method has he taken to get

into your heart? When I could not gain your affections myself,
it was some comfort to me to think, that no other could gain

them; in the meantime, another has effected what I could not, and
I have at once the jealousy of a husband and lover. But it is

impossible for me to retain that of a husband after such a
proceeding on your part, which is too noble and ingenuous not to

give me an entire security; it even comforts me as a lover; the
sincerity you have expressed, and the confidence you have placed

in me are of infinite value: you have esteem enough for me to
believe I shall not abuse the confession you have made to me; you

are in the right, Madam, I will not abuse it, or love you the
less for it; you make me unhappy by the greatest mark of fidelity

ever woman gave her husband; but go on, Madam, and inform me who
he is whom you would avoid." "I beg you not to ask me,"

replied she; "I am resolved not to tell you, nor do I think it
prudent to name him." "Fear not, Madam," replied Monsieur de

Cleves, "I know the world too well to be ignorant that a woman's
having a husband does not hinder people from being in love with

her; such lovers may be the objects of one's hatred, but we are
not to complain of it; once again, Madam, I conjure you to tell

me what I so much desire to know." "It is in vain to press
me," replied she, "I have the power to be silent in what I

think I ought not to tell; the confession I made to you was not
owing to any weakness, and it required more courage to declare

such a truth than it would have done to conceal it."
The Duke de Nemours did not lose a word of this conversation, and

what Madam de Cleves had said gave him no less jealousy than her
husband; he was so desperately in love with her, that he believed

all the world was so too; it is true, he had many rivals, yet he
fancied them still more, and his thoughts wandered to find out

who it was Madam de Cleves meant: he had often thought he was not
disagreeable to her, but the grounds of his judgment on this

occasion appeared so slight, that he could not imagine he had
raised in her heart a passionviolent enough to oblige her to

have recourse to so extraordinary a remedy; he was so
transported, that he scarce knew what he saw, and he could not

pardon Monsieur de Cleves for not having pressed his wife enough
to tell him the name of the person she concealed from him.

Monsieur de Cleves nevertheless used his utmost endeavours to
know it; and having urged her very much on the subject; "I

think," answered she, "that you ought to be satisfied with my
sincerity; ask me no more about it, and don't give me cause to

repent of what I have done; content yourself with the assurance
which I once more give you, that my sentiments have never

appeared by any of my actions, and that no address hath been made
to me that could give me offence." "Ah! Madam," replied

Monsieur de Cleves on a sudden, "I cannot believe it; I remember
the confusion you was in when your picture was lost; you have

given away, Madam, you have given away that picture, which was so
dear to me, and which I had so just a right to; you have not been

able to conceal your inclinations, you are in love; it is known;
your virtue has hitherto saved you from the rest." "Is it

possible," cried Madam de Cleves, "you can imagine there was
any reserve or disguise in a confession like mine, which I was no

way obliged to? Take my word, I purchase dearly the confidence I
desire of you; I conjure you to believe I have not given away my

picture; it is true, I saw it taken, but I would not seem to see
it, for fear of subjecting myself to hear such things as no one

has yet dared to mention to me." "How do you know then that
you are loved," said Monsieur de Cleves? "What mark, what

proof of it has been given you?" "Spare me the pain," replied
she, "of repeating to you circumstances which I am ashamed to

have observed, and which have convinced me but too much of my own
weakness." "You are in the right, Madam," answered he, "I am

unjust; always refuse me when I ask you such things, and yet
don't be angry with me for asking them."

Just then several of the servants, who had stayed in the walks,
came to acquaint Monsieur de Cleves, that a gentleman was arrived

from the King, with orders for him to be at Paris that evening.