III

"In the meantime, however busy and full I was of my new engagement with

the Queen, I still kept fair with Madam de Themines by a natural

inclination which it was not in my power to conquer; I thought she

cooled in her love to me, and whereas, had I been prudent, I should

have made use of the change I observed in her for my cure, my love

redoubled upon it, and I managed so ill that the Queen got some

knowledge of this intrigue. Jealousy is natural to persons of her

nation, and perhaps she had a greater affection for me than she even

imagined herself; at least the report of my being in love gave her so

much uneasiness, that I thought myself entirely ruined with her;

however I came into favour again by virtue of submissions, false oaths,

and assiduity; but I should not have been able to have deceived her

long, had not Madam de Themines's change disengaged me from her against

my will; she convinced me she no longer loved me, and I was so

thoroughly satisfied of it, that I was obliged to give her no further

uneasiness, but to let her be quiet. Some time after she wrote me this

letter which I have lost; I learned from it, she had heard of the

correspondence I had with the other woman I told you of, and that that

was the reason of her change. As I had then nothing further left to

divide me, the Queen was well enough satisfied with me; but the

sentiments I have for her not being of a nature to render me incapable

of other engagements, and love not being a thing that depends on our

will, I fell in love with Madam de Martigues, of whom I was formerly a

great admirer, while she was with Villemontais, maid of honour to the

Queen-Dauphin; I have reason to believe she does not hate me; the

discretion I observe towards her, and which she does not wholly know

the reasons of, is very agreeable to her; the Queen has not the least

suspicion on her account, but she has another jealousy which is not

less troublesome; as Madam de Martigues is constantly with the

Queen-Dauphin, I go there much oftener than usual; the Queen imagines

that 'tis this Princess I am in love with; the Queen-Dauphin's rank,

which is equal to her own, and the superiority of her youth and beauty,

create a jealousy that rises even to fury, and fills her with a hatred

against her daughter-in-law that cannot be concealed. The Cardinal of

Loraine, who, I believe has been long aspiring to the Queen's favour,

and would be glad to fill the place I possess, is, under pretence of

reconciling the two Queens, become master of the differences between

them; I doubt not but he has discovered the true cause of the Queen's

anger, and I believe he does me all manner of ill offices, without

letting her see that he designs it. This is the condition my affairs

are in at present; judge what effect may be produced by the letter

which I have lost, and which I unfortunately put in my pocket with

design to restore it to Madam de Themines: if the Queen sees this

letter, she will know I have deceived her; and that almost at the very

same time that I deceived her for Madam de Themines, I deceived Madam

de Themines for another; judge what an idea this will give her of me,

and whether she will ever trust me again. If she does not see the

letter, what shall I say to her? She knows it has been given to the

Queen-Dauphin; she will think Chatelart knew that Queen's hand, and

that the letter is from her; she will fancy the person of whom the

letter expresses a jealousy, is perhaps herself; in short, there is

nothing which she may not think, and there is nothing which I ought not

to fear from her thoughts; add to this, that I am desperately in love

with Madam de Martigues, and that the Queen-Dauphin will certainly show

her this letter, which she will conclude to have been lately writ.

Thus shall I be equally embroiled both with the person I love most, and

with the person I have most cause to fear. Judge, after this, if I

have not reason to conjure you to say the letter is yours, and to beg

of you to get it out of the Queen-Dauphin's hands."

"I am very well satisfied," answered the Duke de Nemours, "that one

cannot be in a greater embarrassment than that you are in, and it must

be confessed you deserve it; I have been accused of being inconstant in

my amours, and of having had several intrigues at the same time, but

you out-go me so far, that I should not so much as have dared to

imagine what you have undertaken; could you pretend to keep Madam de

Themines, and be at the same engaged with the Queen? did you hope to

have an engagement with the Queen, and be able to deceive her? she is

both an Italian and a Queen, and by consequence full of jealousy,

suspicion, and pride. As soon as your good fortune, rather than your

good conduct, had set you at liberty from an engagement you was

entangled in, you involved yourself in new ones, and you fancied that

in the midst of the Court you could be in love with Madam de Martigues

without the Queen's perceiving it: you could not have been too careful

to take from her the shame of having made the first advances; she has a

violent passion for you; you have more discretion than to tell it me,

and I than to ask you to tell it; it is certain she is jealous of you,

and has truth on her side." "And does it belong to you," interrupted

the Viscount, "to load me with reprimands, and ought not your own

experience to make you indulgent to my faults? However I grant I am to

blame; but think, I conjure you, how to draw me out of this

difficulty"; "I think you must go to the Queen-Dauphin as soon as she

is awake, and ask her for the letter, as if you had lost it." "I have

told you already," replied the Duke de Nemours, "that what you propose

is somewhat extraordinary, and that there are difficulties in it which

may affect my own particular interest; but besides, if this letter has

been seen to drop out of your pocket, I should think it would be hard

to persuade people that it dropped out of mine." "I thought I had told

you," replied the Viscount, "that the Queen-Dauphin had been informed

that you dropped it." "How," said the Duke de Nemours hastily,

apprehending the ill consequence this mistake might be of to him with

Madam de Cleves, "has the Queen-Dauphin been told I dropped the

letter?" "Yes," replied the Viscount, "she has been told so; and what

occasioned the mistake was, that there were several gentlemen of the

two Queens in a room belonging to the tennis court, where our clothes

were put up, when your servants and mine went together to fetch them;

then it was the letter fell out of the pocket; those gentlemen took it

up, and read it aloud; some believed it belonged to you, and others to

me; Chatelart, who took it, and to whom I have just sent for it, says,

he gave it to the Queen-Dauphin as a letter of yours; and those who

have spoken of it to the Queen have unfortunately told her it was mine;

so that you may easily do what I desire of you, and free me from this

perplexity."

The Duke de Nemours had always had a great friendship for the Viscount

de Chartres, and the relation he bore to Madam de Cleves still made him

more dear to him; nevertheless he could not prevail with himself to run

the risk of her having heard of this letter, as of a thing in which he

was concerned; he fell into a deep musing, and the Viscount guessed

pretty near what was the subject of his meditations; "I plainly see,"

said he, "that you are afraid of embroiling yourself with your

mistress, and I should almost fancy the Queen-Dauphin was she, if the

little jealousy you seem to have of Monsieur d'Anville did not take me

off from that thought; but be that as it will, it is not reasonable you

should sacrifice your repose to mine, and I'll put you in a way of

convincing her you love, that this letter is directed to me, and not to

you; here is a billet from Madam d'Amboise, who is a friend of Madam de

Themines, and was her confidant in the amour between her and me; in

this she desires me to send her Madam de Themines's letter, which I

have lost; my name is on the superscription, and the contents of the

billet prove, without question, that the letter she desires is the same

with that which has been found; I'll leave this billet in your hands,

and agree that you may show it to your mistress in your justification;

I conjure you not to lose a moment, but to go this morning to the

Queen-Dauphin."

The Duke de Nemours promised the Viscount he would, and took Madam

d'Amboise's billet; nevertheless his design was not to see the

Queen-Dauphin; he thought more pressing business required his care; he

made no question, but she had already spoke of the letter to Madam de

Cleves, and could not bear that a person he loved so desperately,

should have ground to believe he had engagements with any other.

He went to the Princess of Cleves as soon as he thought she might be

awake; and ordered her to be told, that, if he had not business of the

last consequence, he would not have desired the honour to see her at so

extraordinary an hour. Madam de Cleves was in bed, and her mind was

tossed to and fro by a thousand melancholy thoughts that she had had

during the night; she was extremely surprised to hear the Duke de

Nemours asked for her; the anxiety she was in made her presently

answer, that she was ill, and could not speak with him.

The Duke was not at all shocked at this refusal; he thought it presaged

him no ill, that she expressed a little coldness at a time when she

might be touched with jealousy. He went to the Prince of Cleves's

apartment, and told him he came from that of his lady, and that he was

very sorry he could not see her, because he had an affair to

communicate to her of great consequence to the Viscount de Chartres; he

explained in few words to the Prince the importance of this business,

and the Prince immediately introduced him into his lady's chamber. Had

she not been in the dark, she would have found it hard to have

concealed the trouble and astonishment she was in to see the Duke de

Nemours introduced by her husband. Monsieur de Cleves told her the

business was about a letter, wherein her assistance was wanting for the

interest of the Viscount, that she was to consult with Monsieur de

Nemours what was to be done; and that as for him he was going to the

King, who had just sent for him.

The Duke de Nemours had his heart's desire, in being alone with Madam

de Cleves; "I am come to ask you, Madam," said he, "if the

Queen-Dauphin has not spoke to you of a letter which Chatelart gave her

yesterday." "She said something to me of it," replied Madam de Cleves,

"but I don't see what relation this letter his to the interests of my

uncle, and I can assure you that he is not named in it." "It is true,

Madam," replied the Duke de Nemours, "he is not named in it but yet it

is addressed to him, and it very much imports him that you should get

it out of the Queen-Dauphin's hands." "I cannot comprehend," replied

the Princess, "how it should be of any consequence to him, if this

letter should be seen, nor what reason there is to redemand it in his

name." "If you please to be at leisure to hear me, Madam," said

Monsieur de Nemours, "I'll presently make you acquainted with the true

state of the thing, and inform you of matters of so great importance to

the Viscount, that I would not even have trusted the Prince of Cleves

with them, had I not stood in need of his assistance to have the honour

to see you." "I believe," said Madam de Cleves in a very unconcerned

manner, "that anything you may give yourself the trouble of telling me,

will be to little purpose; you had better go to the Queen-Dauphin, and

plainly tell her, without using these roundabout ways, the interest you

have in that letter, since she has been told, as well as I, that it

belongs to you."

The uneasiness of mind which Monsieur de Nemours observed in Madam de

Cleves gave him the most sensible pleasure he ever knew, and lessened

his impatience to justify himself: "I don't know, Madam," replied he,

"what the Queen-Dauphin may have been told; but I am not at all

concerned in that letter; it is addressed to the Viscount." "I believe

so," replied Madam de Cleves, "but the Queen-Dauphin has heard to the

contrary, and she won't think it very probable that the Viscount's

letters should fall out of your pocket; you must therefore have some

reason, that I don't know of, for concealing the truth of this matter

from the Queen-Dauphin; I advise you to confess it to her." "I have

nothing to confess to her," says he, "the letter is not directed to me,

and if there be anyone that I would have satisfied of it, it is not the

Queen-Dauphin; but, Madam, since the Viscount's interest is nearly

concerned in this, be pleased to let me acquaint you with some matters

that are worthy of your curiosity." Madam de Cleves by her silence

showed her readiness to hear him, and he as succinctly as possible

related to her all he had just heard from the Viscount. Though the

circumstances were naturally surprising, and proper to create

attention, yet Madam de Cleves heard them with such coldness, that she

seemed either not to believe them true, or to think them indifferent to

her; she continued in this temper until the Duke de Nemours spoke of

Madam d'Amboise's billet, which was directed to the Viscount, and was a

proof of all he had been saying; as Madam de Cleves knew that this lady

was a friend of Madam de Themines, she found some probability in what

the Duke de Nemours had said, which made her think, that the letter

perhaps was not addressed to him; this thought suddenly, and in spite

of herself, drew her out of the coldness and indifferency she had until

then been in. The Duke having read the billet, which fully justified

him, presented it to her to read, and told her she might possibly know

the hand. She could not forbear taking it, and examining the

superscription to see if it was addressed to the Viscount de Chartres,

and reading it all over, that she might the better judge, if the letter

which was redemanded was the same with that she had in her hand. The

Duke de Nemours added whatever he thought proper to persuade her of it;

and as one is easily persuaded of the truth of what one wishes, he soon

convinced Madam de Cleves that he had no concern in the letter.

She began now to reason with him concerning the embarrassment and

danger the Viscount was in, to blame his ill conduct, and to think of

means to help him: she was astonished at the Queen's proceedings, and

confessed to the Duke that she had the letter; in short, she no sooner

believed him innocent, but she discoursed with him with greater ease

and freedom, concerning what she would scarce before vouchsafe to hear;

they agreed that the letter should not be restored to the

Queen-Dauphin, for fear she should show it to Madam de Martigues, who

knew Madam de Themines's hand, and would easily guess, by the interest

she had in the Viscount, that it was addressed to him; they agreed

also, that they ought not to entrust the Queen-Dauphin with all that

concerned the Queen her mother-in-law. Madam de Cleves, under pretence

of serving her uncle, was pleased to be the Duke de Nemours's confidant

in the secrets he had imparted to her.

The Duke would not have confined his discourse to the Viscount's

concerns, but from the liberty he had of free conversation with her,

would have assumed a boldness he had never yet done, had not a message

been brought in to Madam de Cleves, that the Queen-Dauphin had sent for

her. The Duke was forced to withdraw; he went to the Viscount to

inform him, that after he had left him, he thought it more proper to

apply to Madam de Cleves, his niece, than to go directly to the

Queen-Dauphin; he did not want reasons to make him approve what he had

done, and to give him hopes of good success.

In the meantime Madam de Cleves dressed herself in all haste to go to

the Queen-Dauphin; she was no sooner entered her chamber, but she

called her to her, and whispered her, "I have been waiting for you

these two hours, and was never so perplexed about disguising a truth as

I have been this morning: the Queen has heard of the letter I gave you

yesterday, and believes it was the Viscount de Chartres that dropped

it; you know, she has some interest to be satisfied in it; she has been

in search for the letter, and has caused Chatelart to be asked for it;

who said he had given it to me; they have been to ask me for it, under

pretence it was an ingenious letter which the Queen had a curiosity to

see; I durst not say that you had it, for fear she should think I had

given it you on your uncle the Viscount's account, and that there was a

correspondence between him and me. I was already satisfied that his

seeing me so often gave her uneasiness, so that I said the letter was

in the clothes I had on yesterday, and that those who had them in

keeping were gone abroad; give me the letter immediately," added she,

"that I may send it her, and that I may read it before I send it to see

if I know the hand."

Madam de Cleves was harder put to it than she expected; "I don't know,

Madam, what you will do," answered she, "for Monsieur de Cleves, to

whom I gave it to read, returned it to the Duke of Nemours, who came

early this morning to beg him to get it of you. Monsieur de Cleves had

the imprudence to tell him he had it, and the weakness to yield to the

entreaties the Duke de Nemours made that he would restore it him."

"You throw me into the greatest embarrassment I can possibly be in,"

replied the Queen-Dauphin; "and you have given this letter to the Duke

de Nemours. Since it was I that gave it you, you ought not to have

restored it without my leave; what would you have me say to the Queen,

and what can she imagine? She will think, and not without reason, that

this letter concerns myself, and that there is something between the

Viscount and me; she will never be persuaded the letter belonged to the

Duke de Nemours." "I am very much concerned," replied Madam de Cleves,

"for the misfortune I have occasioned, and I believe the difficulty I

have brought you into is very great; but 'twas Monsieur de Cleves's

fault, and not mine." "You are in fault," replied the Queen-Dauphin,

"for having given him the letter; and I believe you are the only woman

in the world that acquaints her husband with all she knows." "I

acknowledge myself in fault, Madam," replied the Princess of Cleves,

"but let us rather think of preventing the consequences of what I have

done, than insist on the fault itself." "Do you remember, pretty near,

what the letter contains?" says the Queen-Dauphin. "Yes, Madam, I do,"

replied she, "for I have read it over more than once." "If so," said

the Queen-Dauphin, "you must immediately get it written out in an

unknown hand, and I'll send it to the Queen; she'll not show it those

who have seen it already; and though she should, I'll stand in it, that

it is the same Chatelart gave me; and he'll not dare to say otherwise."

Madam de Cleves approved of this expedient, and the more because it

gave her an opportunity of sending for the Duke de Nemours, to have the

letter itself again, in order to have it copied word for word,

imitating as near as may be the hand it was written in, and she thought

this would effectually deceive the Queen. As soon as she was got home,

she informed her husband of what had passed between her and the

Queen-Dauphin, and begged him to send for the Duke de Nemours. The

Duke was sent for, and came immediately; Madam de Cleves told him all

she had told her husband, and asked for the letter; but the Duke

answered, that he had already returned it to the Viscount de Chartres,

who was so overjoyed upon having it again, and being freed from the

danger he was in, that he sent it immediately to Madam de Themines's

friend. Madam de Cleves was in a new embarrassment on this occasion:

in short, after having consulted together, they resolved to form the

letter by memory; and, in order to go about it, they locked themselves

up, and left orders that nobody should be admitted, and that all the

Duke de Nemours's attendants should be sent away. Such an appearance

of secret confidence was no small charm to Monsieur de Nemours, and

even to Madam de Cleves; her husband's presence, and the interests of

her uncle the Viscount de Chartres, were considerations which in great

measure removed her scruples, and made this opportunity of seeing and

being with the Duke de Nemours so agreeable to her, that she never

before experienced a joy so pure and free from allay; this threw her

into a freedom and gaiety of spirit which the Duke had never observed

in her till now, and which made him still more passionately in love

with her: as he had never known such agreeable moments, his vivacity

was much heightened; and whenever Madam de Cleves was beginning to

recollect and write the letter, instead of assisting her seriously, did

nothing but interrupt her with wit and pleasantry. Madam de Cleves was

as gay as he, so that they had been locked up a considerable time, and

two messages had come from the Queen-Dauphin to hasten Madam de Cleves,

before they had half finished the letter.

The Duke de Nemours was glad to prolong the time that was so agreeable

to him, and neglected the concerns of his friend; Madam de Cleves was

not at all tired, and neglected also the concerns of her uncle: at

last, with much ado, about four o'clock the letter was finished, and

was so ill done, and the copy so unlike the original, as to the

handwriting, that the queen must have taken very little care to come at

the truth of the matter, if she had been imposed on by so ill a

counterfeit. Accordingly she was not deceived; and however industrious

they were to persuade her, that this letter was addressed to the Duke

de Nemours, she remained satisfied not only that it was addressed to

the Viscount de Chartres, but that the Queen-Dauphin was concerned in

it, and that there was a correspondence between them; this heightened

her hatred against that Princess to such a degree, that she never

forgave her, and never ceased persecuting her till she had driven her

out of France.

As for the Viscount de Chartres, his credit was entirely ruined with

her; and whether the Cardinal of Loraine had already insinuated himself

so far into her esteem as to govern her, or whether the accident of

this letter, which made it appear that the Viscount had deceived her,

enabled her to discover the other tricks he had played her, it is

certain he could never after entirely reconcile himself to her; their

correspondence was broke off, and at length she ruined him by means of

the conspiracy of Amboise, in which he was involved.

After the letter was sent to the Queen-Dauphin, Monsieur de Cleves and

Monsieur de Nemours went away; Madam de Cleves continued alone, and

being no longer supported by the joy which the presence of what one

loves gives one, she seemed like one newly waked from a dream; she

beheld, with astonishment, the difference between the condition she was

in the night before, and that she was in at this time: she called to

mind, how cold and sullen she was to the Duke de Nemours, while she

thought Madam de Themines's letter was addressed to him, and how calm

and sweet a situation of mind succeeded that uneasiness, as soon as he

was satisfied he was not concerned in that letter; when she reflected,

that she reproached herself as guilty for having given him the

foregoing day only some marks of sensibility, which mere compassion

might have produced, and that by her peevish humour this morning, she

had expressed such a jealousy as was a certain proof of passion, she

thought she was not herself; when she reflected further, that the Duke

de Nemours saw plainly that she knew he was in love with her, and that,

notwithstanding her knowing it, she did not use him the worse for it,

even in her husband's presence; but that, on the contrary, she had

never behaved so favourably to him; when she considered, she was the

cause of Monsieur de Cleves's sending for him, and that she had just

passed an afternoon in private with him; when she considered all this,

she found, there was something within her that held intelligence with

the Duke de Nemours, and that she deceived a husband who least deserved

it; and she was ashamed to appear so little worthy of esteem, even in

the eyes of her lover; but what she was able to support less than all

the rest was, the remembrance of the condition in which she spent the

last night, and the pricking griefs she felt from a suspicion that the

Duke de Nemours was in love with another, and that she was deceived by

him.

Never till then was she acquainted with the dreadful inquietudes that

flow from jealousy and distrust; she had applied all her cares to

prevent herself from falling in love with the Duke de Nemours, and had

not before had any fear of his being in love with another: though the

suspicions which this letter had given her were effaced, yet they left

her sensible of the hazard there was of being deceived, and gave her

impressions of distrust and jealousy which she had never felt till that

time; she was surprised that she had never yet reflected how improbable

it was that a man of the Duke de Nemours's turn, who had showed so much

inconstancy towards women, should be capable of a lasting and sincere

passion; she thought it next to impossible for her to be convinced of

the truth of his love; "But though I could be convinced of it," says

she, "what have I to do in it? Shall I permit it? Shall I make a

return? Shall I engage in gallantry, be false to Monsieur de Cleves,

and be false to myself? In a word, shall I go to expose myself to the

cruel remorses and deadly griefs that rise from love? I am subdued and

vanquished by a passion, which hurries me away in spite of myself; all

my resolutions are vain; I had the same thoughts yesterday that I have

today, and I act today contrary to what I resolved yesterday; I must

convey myself out of the sight of the Duke de Nemours; I must go into

the country, however fantastical my journey may appear; and if Monseur

de Cleves is obstinately bent to hinder me, or to know my reasons for

it, perhaps I shall do him and myself the injury to acquaint him with

them." She continued in this resolution, and spent the whole evening

at home, without going to the Queen-Dauphin to enquire what had

happened with respect to the counterfeited letter.

When the Prince of Cleves returned home, she told him she was resolved

to go into the country; that she was not very well, and had occasion to

take the air. Monsieur de Cleves, to whom she appeared so beautiful

that he could not think her indisposition very considerable, at first

made a jest of her design, and answered that she had forgot that the

nuptials of the Princesses and the tournament were very near, and that

she had not too much time to prepare matters so as to appear there as

magnificently as other ladies. What her husband said did not make her

change her resolution, and she begged he would agree, that while he was

at Compiegne with the King, she might go to Colomiers, a pretty house

then building, within a day's journey of Paris. Monsieur de Cleves

consented to it; she went thither with a design of not returning so

soon, and the King set out for Compiegne, where he was to stay but few

days.

The Duke de Nemours was mightily concerned he had not seen Madam de

Cleves since that afternoon which he had spent so agreeably with her,

and which had increased his hopes; he was so impatient to see her again

that he could not rest; so that when the King returned to Paris, the

Duke resolved to go to see his sister the Duchess de Mercoeur, who was

at a country seat of hers very near Colomiers; he asked the Viscount to

go with him, who readily consented to it. The Duke de Nemours did this

in hopes of visiting Madam de Cleves, in company of the Viscount.

Madam de Mercoeur received them with a great deal of joy, and thought

of nothing but giving them all the pleasures and diversions of the

country; one day, as they were hunting a stag, the Duke de Nemours lost

himself in the forest, and upon enquiring his way was told he was near

Colomiers; at that word, Colomiers, without further reflection, or so

much as knowing what design he was upon, he galloped on full speed the

way that had been showed him; as he rode along he came by chance to the

made-ways and walks, which he judged led to the castle: at the end of

these walks he found a pavilion, at the lower end of which was a large

room with two closets, the one opening into a flower-garden, and the

other looking into a spacious walk in the park; he entered the

pavilion, and would have stopped to observe the beauty of it, if he had

not seen in the walk the Prince and Princess of Cleves, attended with a

numerous train of their domestics. As he did not expect to meet

Monsieur de Cleves there, whom he had left with the King, he thought at

first of hiding himself; he entered the closet which looked into the

flower-garden, with design to go out that way by a door which opened to

the forest; but observing Madam de Cleves and her husband were sat down

under the pavilion, and that their attendants stayed in the park, and

could not come to him without passing by the place where Monsieur and

Madam de Cleves were, he could not deny himself the pleasure of seeing

this Princess, nor resist the curiosity he had to hear her conversation

with a husband, who gave him more jealousy than any of his rivals. He

heard Monsieur de Cleves say to his wife, "But why will you not return

to Paris? What can keep you here in the country? You have of late

taken a fancy for solitude, at which I am both surprised and concerned,

because it deprives me of your company: I find too, you are more

melancholy than usual, and I am afraid you have some cause of grief."

"I have nothing to trouble my mind," answered she with an air of

confusion, "but there is such a bustle at Court, and such a multitude

of people always at your house, that it is impossible but both body and

mind should 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 passion violent 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. Monsieur de

Cleves was obliged to go, and had only time to tell his wife that he

desired her to come to Paris the next day; and that he conjured her to

believe, that however afflicted he was, he had a tenderness and esteem

for her, with which she ought to be satisfied.

When he was gone, and Madam de Cleves being alone, considered what she

had done, she was so frightened at the thought of it, she could hardly

believe it to be true. She found she had deprived herself of the heart

and esteem of her husband, and was involved in a labyrinth she should

never get out of; she asked herself why she had ventured on so

dangerous a step, and perceived she was engaged in it almost without

having designed it; the singularity of such a confession, for which she

saw no precedent, made her fully sensible of her danger.

But on the other hand, when she came to think that this remedy, however

violent it was, was the only effectual one she could make use of

against Monsieur de Nemours, she found she had no cause to repent, or

to believe she had ventured too far; she passed the whole night full of

doubts, anxiety and fear; but at last her spirits grew calm again; she

even felt a pleasure arise in her mind, from a sense of having given

such a proof of fidelity to a husband who deserved it so well, who had

so great a friendship and esteem for her, and had so lately manifested

it by the manner in which he received the confession she had made him.

In the meantime Monsieur de Nemours was gone away from the place, in

which he had overheard a conversation which so sensibly affected him,

and was got deep into the forest; what Madam de Cleves said of her

picture had revived him, since it was certain from thence that he was

the person she had an inclination for; at first he gave a leap of joy,

but his raptures were at an end as soon as he began to reflect, that

the same thing that convinced him he had touched the heart of Madam de

Cleves, ought to convince him also that he should never receive any

marks of it, and that it would be impossible to engage a lady who had

recourse to so extraordinary a remedy; and yet he could not but be

sensibly pleased to have reduced her to that extremity; he thought it

glorious for him to have gained the affections of a woman so different

from the rest of her sex; in a word, he thought himself very happy and

very unhappy at the same time. He was benighted in the forest, and was

very much put to it to find his way again to his sister's the Duchess

of Mercoeur; he arrived there at break of day, and was extremely at a

loss what account to give of his absence, but he made out the matter as

well as he could, and returned that very day to Paris with the Viscount.

The Duke was so taken up with his passion, and so surprised at the

conversation he had heard, that he fell into an indiscretion very

common, which is, to speak one's own particular sentiments in general

terms, and to relate one's proper adventures under borrowed names. As

they were travelling he began to talk of love, and exaggerated the

pleasure of being in love with a person that deserved it; he spoke of

the fantastical effects of this passion, and at last not being able to

contain within himself the admiration he was in at the action of Madam

de Cleves, he related it to the Viscount without naming the person, or

owning he had any share in it; but he told it with so much warmth and

surprise, that the Viscount easily suspected the story concerned

himself. The Viscount urged him very much to confess it, and told him

he had known a great while that he was violently in love, and that it

was unjust in him to show a distrust of a man who had committed to him

a secret on which his life depended. The Duke de Nemours was too much

in love to own it, and had always concealed it from the Viscount,

though he valued him the most of any man at Court; he answered that one

of his friends had told him this adventure, and made him promise not to

speak of it; and he also conjured the Viscount to keep the secret: the

Viscount assured him he would say nothing of it but notwithstanding

Monsieur de Nemours repented that he had told him so much.

In the meantime Monsieur de Cleves was gone to the King, with a heart

full of sorrow and affliction. Never had husband so violent a passion

for his wife, or so great an esteem; what she had told him did not take

away his esteem of her, but made it of a different nature from that he

had had before; what chiefly employed his thoughts, was a desire to

guess who it was that had found out the secret to win her heart; the

Duke de Nemours was the first person he thought of on this occasion, as

being the handsomest man at Court; and the Chevalier de Guise, and the

Mareschal de St. Andre occurred next, as two persons who had made it

their endeavour to get her love, and who were still very assiduous in

courting her, so that he was fully persuaded it must be one of the

three. He arrived at the Louvre, and the King carried him into his

closet to inform him he had made choice of him to conduct Madame into

Spain, and that he believed nobody could acquit himself better of that

charge, nor that any lady would do France greater honour than Madam de

Cleves. Monsieur de Cleves received the honour the King had done him

by this choice with the respect he ought, and he considered it also as

what would take his wife from Court, without leaving room to suspect

any change in her conduct; but the embarrassment he was under required

a speedier remedy than that journey, which was to be deferred a great

while, could afford; he immediately wrote to Madam de Cleves to

acquaint her with what the King had told him, and gave her to

understand he absolutely expected she should return to Paris. She

returned according to his orders, and when they met, they found one

another overwhelmed with melancholy.

Monsieur de Cleves spoke to her, as a man of the greatest honour in the

world, and the best deserving the confidence she had reposed in him; "I

am not alarmed as to your conduct," said he, "you have more strength

and virtue than you imagine; I am not alarmed with fears of what may

happen hereafter; what troubles me is that I see you have those

sentiments for another which you want for me." "I don't know what to

answer you," said she, "I die with shame when I speak of this subject

spare me, I conjure you, such cruel conversations; regulate my conduct,

and never let me see anybody; this is all I desire of you; but take it

not ill of me, if I speak no more of a thing which makes me appear so

little worthy of you, and which I think so unbecoming me." "You are in

the right, Madam;" replied he, "I abuse your goodness and your

confidence in me; but have some compassion also on the condition you

have brought me to, and think that whatever you have told me, you

conceal from me a name, which creates in me a curiosity I cannot live

without satisfying; and yet I ask you not to satisfy it; I cannot,

however, forbear telling you, that I believe the man I am to envy is

the Mareschal de St. Andre, the Duke de Nemours, or the Chevalier de

Guise." "I shall make you no answer," says she blushing, "nor give you

any ground from what I say, either to lessen or strengthen your

suspicions; but if you endeavour to inform yourself by observing me,

you will throw me into a confusion all the world will take notice of,

for God's sake," continued she, "allow me under pretence of an

indisposition to see nobody." "No, Madam," said he, "it will quickly

be discovered to be a feigned business; and besides, I am unwilling to

trust you to anything but yourself; my heart tells me this is the best

way I can take, and my reason tells me so also, considering the temper

of mind you are in, I cannot put a greater restraint upon you than by

leaving you to your liberty."

Monsieur de Cleves was not mistaken; the confidence he showed he had in

his wife, fortified her the more against Monsieur de Nemours, and made

her take more severe resolutions than any restraint could have brought

her to. She went to wait on the Queen-Dauphin at the Louvre as she

used to do, but avoided the presence and eyes of Monsieur de Nemours

with so much care, that she deprived him of almost all the joy he had

in thinking she loved him; he saw nothing in her actions but what

seemed to show the contrary; he scarcely knew if what he had heard was

not a dream, so very improbable it seemed to him; the only thing which

assured him that he was not mistaken, was Madam de Cleves's extreme

melancholy, which appeared, whatever pains she took to hide it; and

perhaps kind words and looks would not have increased the Duke of

Nemours's love so much as this severe conduct did.

One evening, as Monsieur and Madam de Cleves were at the Queen's

apartment, it was said there was a report that the King would name

another great lord to wait on Madame into Spain. Monsieur de Cleves

had his eye fixed on his wife, when it was further said, the Chevalier

de Guise, or the Mareschal de St. Andre, was the person; he observed

she was not at all moved at either of those names, nor the discourse of

their going along with her; this made him believe, it was not either of

them whose presence she feared. In order to clear up his suspicions,

he went into the Queen's closet, where the King then was, and after

having stayed there some time came back to his wife, and whispered her,

that he had just heard the Duke de Nemours was the person designed to

go along with them to Spain.

The name of the Duke de Nemours, and the thought of being exposed to

see him every day, during a very long journey, in her husband's

presence, so affected Madam de Cleves, that she could not conceal her

trouble: and being willing to give other reasons for it, "No choice,"

says she, "could have been made more disagreeable for you; he will

share all honours with you, and I think you ought to endeavour to get

some other chosen." "It is not honour, Madam," replied Monsieur de

Cleves, "that makes you apprehensive of the Duke de Nemours's going

with me, the uneasiness you are in proceeds from another cause; and

from this uneasiness of yours I learn, that which I should have

discovered in another woman, by the joy she would have expressed on

such an occasion; but be not afraid; what I have told you is not true,

it was an invention of mine to assure myself of a thing which I already

believed but too much."

Having said this, he went out, being unwilling to increase, by his

presence, the concern he saw his wife in.

The Duke de Nemours came in that instant, and presently observed Madam

de Cleves's condition; he came up to her, and told her softly, he had

that respect for her, he durst not ask what it was made her more

pensive than usual. The voice of the Duke de Nemours brought her to

herself again, and looking at him, without having heard what he had

said to her, full of her own thoughts, and afraid lest her husband

should see him with her, "For God's sake," says she, "leave me to

myself in quiet." "Alas, Madam," answered he, "I disturb you too

little; what is it you can complain of? I dare not speak to you, I

dare not look upon you, I tremble whenever I approach you. How have I

drawn upon myself what you have said to me, and why do you show me that

I am in part the cause of the trouble I see you in?" Madam de Cleves

was very sorry to have given the Duke an opportunity of explaining

himself more clearly than ever he had done before; she left him without

making any answer, and went home with her mind more agitated than ever.

Her husband perceived her concern was increased, and that she was

afraid he would speak to her of what had passed, and followed her into

her closet; "Do not shun me, Madam," says he, "I will say nothing to

you that shall displease you; I ask pardon for the surprise I gave you

a while ago; I am sufficiently punished by what I have learnt from it;

the Duke de Nemours was of all men he whom I most feared; I see the

danger you are in; command yourself for your own sake, and, if it is

possible, for mine; I do not ask this of you as a husband, but as a man

whose happiness wholly depends on you, and who loves you more violently

and more tenderly than he whom your heart prefers to me." Monsieur de

Cleves was melted upon speaking these words, and could scarce make an

end of them; his wife was so moved, she burst into tears, and embraced

him with a tenderness and sorrow that put him into a condition not very

different from her own; they continued silent a while, and parted

without having the power to speak to one another.

All things were ready for the marriage of Madame, and the Duke of Alva

was arrived to espouse her; he was received with all the ceremony and

magnificence that could be displayed on such an occasion; the King sent

to meet him the Prince of Conde, the Cardinals of Loraine and Guise,

the Dukes of Loraine and Ferrara, d'Aumale, de Bouillon, de Guise, and

de Nemours; they had a great number of gentlemen, and a great many

pages in livery; the King himself, attended with two hundred gentlemen,

and the Constable at their head, received the Duke of Alva at the first

gate of the Louvre; the Duke would have kneeled down, but the King

refused it, and made him walk by his side to the Queen's apartment, and

to Madame's, to whom the Duke of Alva had brought a magnificent present

from his master; he went thence to the apartment of Madam Margaret the

King's sister, to compliment her on the part of the Duke of Savoy, and

to assure her he would arrive in a few days; there were great

assemblies at the Louvre, the show the Duke of Alva, and the Prince of

Orange who accompanied him, the beauties of the Court.

Madam de Cleves could not dispense with going to these assemblies,

however desirous she was to be absent, for fear of disobliging her

husband, who absolutely commanded her to be there; and what yet more

induced her to it, was the absence of the Duke de Nemours; he was gone

to meet the Duke of Savoy, and after the arrival of that Prince, he was

obliged to be almost always with him, to assist him in everything

relating to the ceremonies of the nuptials; for this reason Madam de

Cleves did not meet him so often as she used to do, which gave her some

sort of ease.

The Viscount de Chartres had not forgot the conversation he had had

with the Duke de Nemours: it still ran in his mind that the adventure

the Duke had related to him was his own; and he observed him so

carefully that it is probable he would have unravelled the business, if

the arrival of the Duke of Alva and of the Duke of Savoy had not made

such an alteration in the Court, and filled it with so much business,

as left no opportunities for a discovery of that nature; the desire he

had to get some information about it, or rather the natural disposition

one has to relate all one knows to those one loves, made him acquaint

Madam de Martigues with the extraordinary action of that person who had

confessed to her husband the passion she had for another; he assured

her the Duke de Nemours was the man who had inspired so violent a love,

and begged her assistance in observing him. Madam de Martigues was

glad to hear what the Viscount told her, and the curiosity she had

always observed in the Queen-Dauphin for what concerned the Duke de

Nemours made her yet more desirous to search into the bottom of the

affair.

A few days before that which was fixed for the ceremony of the

marriage, the Queen-Dauphin entertained at supper the King her

father-in-law, and the Duchess of Valentinois. Madam de Cleves, who

had been busy in dressing herself, went to the Louvre later than

ordinary; as she was going, she met a gentleman that was coming from

the Queen-Dauphin to fetch her; as soon as she entered the room, that

Princess, who was sitting upon her bed, told her aloud, that she had

expected her with great impatience. "I believe, Madam," answered she,

"that I am not obliged to you for it, and that your impatience was

caused by something else, and not your desire to see me." "You are in

the right," answered the Queen-Dauphin, "but, nevertheless, you are

obliged to me; for I'll tell you an adventure, which I am sure you'll

be glad to know."

Madam de Cleves kneeled at her bedside, and, very luckily for her, with

her face from the light: "You know," said the Queen, "how desirous we

have been to find out what had caused so great a change in the Duke de

Nemours; I believe I know it, and it is what will surprise you; he is

desperately in love with, and as much beloved by, one of the finest

ladies of the Court." It is easy to imagine the grief Madam de Cleves

felt upon hearing these words, which she could not apply to herself,

since she thought nobody knew anything of her passion for the Duke; "I

see nothing extraordinary in that," replied she, "considering how young

and handsome a man the Duke de Nemours is." "No," replied the

Queen-Dauphin, "there is nothing extraordinary in it; but what will

surprise you is, that this lady, who is in love with the Duke de

Nemours, has never given him any mark of it, and that the fear she was

in lest she should not always be mistress of her passion, has made her

confess it to her husband, that he may take her away from Court; and it

is the Duke de Nemours himself who has related what I tell you."

If Madam de Cleves was grieved at first through the thought that she

had no concern in this adventure, the Queen-Dauphin's last words threw

her into an agony, by making it certain she had too much in it; she

could not answer, but continued leaning her head on the bed; meanwhile

the Queen went on, and was so intent on what she was saying, that she

took no notice of her embarrassment. When Madam de Cleves was a little

come to herself, "This story, Madam," says she, "does not seem very

probable to me, and I should be glad to know who told it you." "It was

Madam de Martigues," replied the Queen-Dauphin, "and she heard it from

the Viscount de Chartres; you know the Viscount is in love with her; he

entrusted this matter to her as a secret, and he was told it by the

Duke de Nemours himself; it is true the Duke did not tell the lady's

name, nor acknowledge that he was the person she was in love with, but

the Viscount makes no manner of question of it." When the

Queen-Dauphin had done speaking, somebody came up to the bed; Madam de

Cleves was so placed that she could not see who it was, but she was

presently convinced, when the Queen-Dauphin cried out with an air of

gaiety and surprise, "Here he is himself, I'll ask him what there is in

it." Madam de Cleves knew very well it was the Duke de Nemours,

without turning herself, as it really was; upon which she went up

hastily to the Queen-Dauphin, and told her softly, that she ought to be

cautious of speaking to him of this adventure, which he had entrusted

to the Viscount de Chartres as a secret, and that it was a thing which

might create a quarrel between them. "You are too wise," said the

Queen-Dauphin smiling, and turned to the Duke de Nemours. He was

dressed for the evening assembly, and taking up the discourse with that

grace which was natural to him, "I believe, Madam," says he, "I may

venture to think you were speaking of me as I came in, that you had a

design to ask me something, and that Madam de Cleves is against it."

"It is true," replied the Queen-Dauphin, "but I shall not be so

complaisant to her on this occasion as I was used to be; I would know

of you, whether a story I have been told is true, and whether you are

not the person who is in love with, and beloved by a lady of the Court,

who endeavours to conceal her passion from you, and has confessed it to

her husband."

The concern and confusion Madam de Cleves was in was above all that can

be imagined, and if death itself could have drawn her out of this

condition, she would have gladly embraced it; but the Duke de Nemours

was yet more embarrassed if possible: the discourse of the

Queen-Dauphin, by whom he had reason to believe he was not hated, in

the presence of Madam de Cleves, who was confided in by her more than

anybody of the Court, and who confided more in her, threw him into such

confusion and extravagance of thought, that it was impossible for him

to be master of his countenance: the concern he saw Madam de Cleves in

through his fault, and the thought of having given her just cause to

hate him, so shocked him he could not speak a word. The Queen-Dauphin,

seeing how thunderstruck she was, "Look upon him, look upon him," said

she to Madam de Cleves, "and judge if this adventure be not his own."

In the meantime the Duke de Nemours, finding of what importance it was

to him to extricate himself out of so dangerous a difficulty, recovered

himself from his first surprise, and became at once master of his wit

and looks. "I acknowledge, Madam," said he, "it is impossible to be

more surprised and concerned than I was at the treachery of the

Viscount de Chartres, in relating an adventure of a friend of mine,

which I had in confidence imparted to him. I know how to be revenged

of him," continued he, smiling with a calm air, which removed the

suspicions the Queen-Dauphin had entertained of him: "He has entrusted

me with things of no very small importance; but I don't know, Madam,

why you do me the honour to make me a party in this affair. The

Viscount can't say I am concerned in it, for I told him the contrary; I

may very well be taken to be a man in love, but I cannot believe,

Madam, you will think me of the number of those who are loved again."

The Duke was glad to say anything to the Queen-Dauphin, which alluded

to the inclination he had expressed for her formerly, in order to

divert her thoughts from the subject in question. She imagined she

understood well enough the drift of what he said, but without making

any answer to it, she continued to rally him upon the embarrassment he

was in. "I was concerned, Madam," said he, "for the interest of my

friend, and on account of the just reproaches he might make me for

having told a secret which is dearer to him than life. He has

nevertheless entrusted me but with one half of it, and has not told me

the name of the person he loves; all I know is, that he's the most

deeply in love of any man in the world, and has the most reason to

complain." "Do you think he has reason to complain," replied the

Queen-Dauphin, "when he is loved again?" "Do you believe he is,

Madam," replied he, "and that a person who had a real passion could

discover it to her husband? That lady, doubtless, is not acquainted

with love, and has mistaken for it a slight acknowledgment of the

fondness her lover had for her. My friend can't flatter himself with

the lent hopes; but, unfortunate as he is, he thinks himself happy at

least in having made her afraid of falling in love with him, and he

would not change his condition for that of the happiest lover in the

world." "Your friend has a passion very easy to be satisfied," said

the Queen-Dauphin, "and I begin to believe it is not yourself you are

speaking of; I am almost," continued she, "of the opinion of Madam de

Cleves, who maintains that this story cannot be true." "I don't really

believe it can be true," answered Madam de Cleves, who had been silent

hitherto; "and though it were possible to be true, how should it have

been known? It is very unlikely that a woman, capable of so

extraordinary a resolution, would have the weakness to publish it; and

surely her husband would not have told it neither, or he must be a

husband very unworthy to have been dealt with in so generous a manner."

The Duke de Nemours, who perceived the suspicions Madam de Cleves had

of her husband, was glad to confirm her in them, knowing he was the

most formidable rival he had to overcome. "Jealousy," said he, "and a

curiosity perhaps of knowing more than a wife has thought fit to

discover, may make a husband do a great many imprudent things."

Madam de Cleves was put to the last proof of her power and courage, and

not being able to endure the conversation any longer, she was going to

say she was not well, when by good fortune for her the Duchess of

Valentinois came in, and told the Queen-Dauphin that the King was just

coming; the Queen-Dauphin went into the closet to dress herself, and

the Duke de Nemours came up to Madam de Cleves as she was following

her. "I would give my life, Madam," said he, "to have a moment's

conversation with you; but though I have a world of important things to

say to you, I think nothing is more so, than to entreat you to believe,

that if I have said anything in which the Queen-Dauphin may seem

concerned, I did it for reasons which do not relate to her." Madam de

Cleves pretended not to hear him, and left him without giving him a

look, and went towards the King, who was just come in. As there were

abundance of people there, she trod upon her gown, and made a false

step, which served her as an excuse to go out of a place she had not

the power to stay in, and so pretending to have received some hurt she

went home.

Monsieur de Cleves came to the Louvre, and was surprised not to find

his wife there; they told him of the accident that had befallen her,

and he went immediately home to enquire after her; he found her in bed,

and perceived her hurt was not considerable. When he had been some time

with her, he found her so excessive melancholy that he was surprised at

it; "What ails you, Madam?" says he; "you seem to have some other grief

than that which you complain of." "I feel the most sensible grief I

can ever experience," answered she; "what use have you made of that

extraordinary, or rather foolish confidence which I placed in you? Did

not I deserve to have my secret kept? and though I had not deserved it,

did not your own interest engage you to it? Should your curiosity to

know a name it was not reasonable for me to tell you have obliged you

to make a confidant to assist you in the discovery? Nothing but that

curiosity could have made you guilty of so cruel an indiscretion; the

consequences of it are as bad as they possibly can be. This adventure

is known, and I have been told it by those who are not aware that I am

principally concerned in it." "What do you say, Madam?" answered he;

"you accuse me of having told what passed between you and me, and you

inform me that the thing is known; I don't go about to clear myself

from this charge, you can't think me guilty of it; without doubt you

have applied to yourself what was told you of some other." "Ah! Sir,"

replied she, "the world has not an adventure like mine, there is not

another woman capable of such a thing. The story I have heard could

not have been invented by chance; nobody could imagine any like it; an

action of this nature never entered any thoughts but mine. The

Queen-Dauphin has just told me the story; she had it from the Viscount

de Chartres, and the Viscount from the Duke de Nemours." "The Duke de

Nemours!" cried Monsieur de Cleves, like a man transported and

desperate: "How! does the Duke de Nemours know that you are in love

with him, and that I am acquainted with it?" "You are always for

singling out the Duke de Nemours rather than any other," replied she;

"I have told you I will never answer you concerning your suspicions: I

am ignorant whether the Duke de Nemours knows the part I have in this

adventure, and that which you have ascribed to him; but he told it to

the Viscount de Chartres, and said he had it from one of his friends,

who did not name the lady: this friend of the Duke de Nemours must

needs be one of yours, whom you entrusted the secret to, in order to

clear up your suspicions." "Can one have a friend in the world, in

whom one would repose such a confidence," replied Monsieur de Cleves,

"and would a man clear his suspicions at the price of informing another

with what one would wish to conceal from oneself? Think rather, Madam,

to whom you have spoken; it is more probable this secret should have

escaped from you than from me; you was not able alone to support the

trouble you found yourself in, and you endeavoured to comfort yourself

by complaining to some confidant who has betrayed you."

"Do not wholly destroy me," cried she, "and be not so hard-hearted as

to accuse me of a fault you have committed yourself: can you suspect me

of it? and do you think, because I was capable of informing you of this

matter, I was therefore capable of informing another?"

The confession which Madam de Cleves had made to her husband was so

great a mark of her sincerity, and she so strongly denied that she had

entrusted it to any other, that Monsieur de Cleves did not know what to

think. On the other hand he was sure he had never said anything of it;

it was a thing that could not have been guessed, and yet it was known;

it must therefore come from one of them two; but what grieved him most

was to know that this secret was in the hands of somebody else, and

that in all probability it would be soon divulged.

Madam de Cleves thought much after the same manner; she found it

equally impossible that her husband should, or should not have spoken

of it. What the Duke de Nemours had said to her, that curiosity might

make a husband do indiscreet things, seemed so justly applicable to

Monsieur de Cleves's condition, that she could not think he said it by

chance, and the probability of this made her conclude that Monsieur de

Cleves had abused the confidence she had placed in him. They were so

taken up, the one and the other, with their respective thoughts, that

they continued silent a great while; and when they broke from this

silence, they only repeated the same things they had already said very

often; their hearts and affections grew more and more estranged from

each other.

It is easy to imagine how they passed the night; Monsieur de Cleves

could no longer sustain the misfortune of seeing a woman whom he adored

in love with another; he grew quite heartless, and thought he had

reason to be so in an affair where his honour and reputation were so

deeply wounded: he knew not what to think of his wife, and was at a

loss what conduct he should prescribe to her, or what he should follow

himself; he saw nothing on all sides but precipices and rocks; at last,

after having been long tossed to and fro in suspense, he considered he

was soon to set out for Spain, and resolved to do nothing which might

increase the suspicion or knowledge of his unfortunate condition. He

went to his wife, and told her that what they had to do was not to

debate between themselves who had discovered the secret; but to make it

appear that the story which was got abroad was a business in which she

had no concern; that it depended upon her to convince the Duke de

Nemours and others of it; that she had nothing to do but to behave

herself to him with that coldness and reserve which she ought to have

for a man who professed love to her; that by this proceeding she would

easily remove the opinion he entertained of her being in love with him;

and therefore she needed not to trouble herself as to what he might

hitherto have thought, since if for the future she discovered no

weakness, his former thoughts would vanish of themselves; and that

especially she ought to frequent the Louvre and the assemblies as usual.

Having said this, Monsieur de Cleves left his wife without waiting her

answer; she thought what he said very reasonable, and the resentment

she had against the Duke de Nemours made her believe she should be able

to comply with it with a great deal of ease; but it seemed a hard task

to her to appear at the marriage with that freedom and tranquillity of

spirit as the occasion required. Nevertheless as she was to carry the

Queen-Dauphin's train, and had been distinguished with that honour in

preference to a great many other Princesses, it was impossible to

excuse herself from it without making a great deal of noise and putting

people upon enquiring into the reasons of it. She resolved therefore

to do her utmost, and employed the rest of the day in preparing herself

for it, and in endeavouring to forget the thoughts that gave her so

much uneasiness; and to this purpose she locked herself up in her

closet. Of all her griefs the most violent was that she had reason to

complain of the Duke de Nemours, and could find no excuse to urge in

his favour; she could not doubt but he had related this adventure to

the Viscount de Chartres; he had owned it himself, nor could she any

more doubt from his manner of speaking of it, but that he knew the

adventure related to her; how could she excuse so great an imprudence?

and what was become of that extreme discretion which she had so much

admired in this Prince? "He was discreet," said she, "while he was

unhappy; but the thought of being happy, though on uncertain grounds,

has put an end to his discretion; he could not consider that he was

beloved, without desiring to have it known; he said everything he could

say; I never acknowledged it was he I was in love with; he suspected

it, and has declared his suspicions; if he had been sure of it, he

might have acted as he has; I was to blame for thinking him a man

capable of concealing what flattered his vanity; and yet it is for this

man, whom I thought so different from other men, that I am become like

other women, who was so unlike them before. I have lost the heart and

esteem of a husband who ought to have been my happiness; I shall soon

be looked upon by all the world as a person led away by an idle and

violent passion; he for whom I entertain this passion is no longer

ignorant of it; and it was to avoid these misfortunes that I hazarded

my quiet, and even my life." These sad reflections were followed by a

torrent of tears; but however great her grief was, she plainly

perceived she should be able to support it, were she but satisfied in

the Duke de Nemours.

The Duke was no less uneasy than she; the indiscretion he had been

guilty of in telling what he did to the Viscount de Chartres, and the

mischievous consequences of it, vexed him to the heart; he could not

represent to himself the affliction and sorrow he had seen Madam de

Cleves in without being pierced with anguish; he was inconsolable for

having said things to her about this adventure, which, though gallant

enough in themselves, seemed on this occasion too gross and impolite,

since they gave Madam de Cleves to understand he was not ignorant that

she was the woman who had that violent passion, and that he was the

object of it. It was before the utmost of his wishes to have a

conversation with her, but now he found he ought rather to fear than

desire it. "What should I say to her!" says he; "should I go to

discover further to her what I have made her too sensible of already!

Shall I tell how I know she loves me; I, who have never dared to say I

loved her? Shall I begin with speaking openly of my passion, that she

may see my hopes have inspired me with boldness? Can I even think of

approaching her, and of giving her the trouble to endure my sight?

Which way could I justify myself? I have no excuse, I am unworthy of

the least regard from Madam de Cleves, and I even despair of her ever

looking upon me: I have given her by my own fault better means of

defending herself against me than any she was searching for, and

perhaps searching for to no purpose. I lose by my imprudence the glory

and happiness of being loved by the most beautiful and deserving lady

in the world; but if I had lost this happiness, without involving her

in the most extreme grief and sufferings at the same time, I should

have had some comfort; for at this moment I am more sensible of the

harm I have done her, than of that I have done myself in forfeiting her

favour."

The Duke de Nemours continued turning the same thoughts over and over,

and tormenting himself a great while; the desire he had to speak to

Madam de Cleves came constantly into his mind; he thought of the means

to do it; he thought of writing to her; but at last he found,

considering the fault he had committed and the temper she was in, his

best way was to show her a profound respect by his affliction and his

silence, to let her see he durst not present himself before her, and to

wait for what time, chance, and the inclination she had for him might

produce to his advantage. He resolved also not to reproach the

Viscount de Chartres for his unfaithfulness, for fear of confirming his

suspicions.

The preparations for the espousals and marriage of Madame on the next

day so entirely took up the thoughts of the Court, that Madam de Cleves

and the Duke de Nemours easily concealed from the public their grief

and uneasiness. The Queen-Dauphin spoke but slightly to Madam de

Cleves of the conversation they had had with the Duke de Nemours; and

Monsieur de Cleves industriously shunned speaking to his wife of what

was past; so that she did not find herself under so much embarrassment

as she had imagined.

The espousals were solemnised at the Louvre; and after the feast and

ball all the Royal family went to lie at the Bishop's Palace, according

to custom. In the morning, the Duke of Alva, who always had appeared

very plainly dressed, put on a habit of cloth of gold, mixed with

flame-colour, yellow and black, all covered over with jewels, and wore

a close crown on his head. The Prince of Orange very richly dressed

also, with his liveries, and all the Spaniards with theirs, came to

attend the Duke of Alva from the Hotel de Villeroy where he lodged, and

set out, marching four by four, till they came to the Bishop's Palace.

As soon as he was arrived, they went in order to the Church; the King

led Madame, who wore also a close crown, her train being borne by

Mademoiselles de Montpensier and Longueville; the Queen came next, but

without a crown; after her followed the Queen-Dauphin, Madame the

King's sister, the Duchess of Loraine, and the Queen of Navarre, their

trains being home by the Princesses; the Queens and the Princesses were

all of them attended with their maids of honour, who were richly

dressed in the same colour which they wore themselves; so that it was

known by the colour of their habits whose maids they were: they mounted

the place that was prepared in the Church, and there the marriage

ceremonies were performed; they returned afterwards to dine at the

Bishop's Palace, and went from thence about five o'clock to the Palace

where the feast was, and where the Parliament, the Sovereign Courts,

and the Corporation of the City were desired to assist. The King, the

Queens, the Princes and Princesses sat at the marble table in the great

hall of the Palace; the Duke of Alva sat near the new Queen of Spain,

below the steps of the marble table, and at the King's right hand was a

table for the ambassadors, the archbishops, and the Knights of the

Order, and on the other side one for the Parliament.

The Duke of Guise, dressed in a robe of cloth of gold frieze, served

the King as Great Chamberlain; the Prince of Conde as Steward of the

Household, and the Duke de Nemours as Cup-bearer. After the tables were

removed the ball began, and was interrupted by interludes and a great

deal of extraordinary machinery; then the ball was resumed, and after

midnight the King and the whole Court returned to the Louvre. However

full of grief Madam de Cleves was, she appeared in the eyes of all

beholders, and particularly in those of the Duke de Nemours,

incomparably beautiful. He durst not speak to her, though the hurry of

the ceremony gave him frequent opportunities; but he expressed so much

sorrow and so respectful a fear of approaching her, that she no longer

thought him to blame, though he had said nothing in his justification;

his conduct was the same the following days, and wrought the same

effect on the heart of Madam de Cleves.

At last the day of the tournament came; the Queens were placed in the

galleries that were prepared for them; the four champions appeared at

the end of the lists with a number of horses and liveries, the most

magnificent sight that ever was seen in France.

The King's colours were white and black, which he always wore in honour

of the Duchess of Valentinois, who was a widow. The Duke of Ferrara

and his retinue had yellow and red. Monsieur de Guise's carnation and

white. It was not known at first for what reason he wore those

colours, but it was soon remembered that they were the colours of a

beautiful young lady whom he had been in love with, while she was a

maid, and whom he yet loved though he durst not show it. The Duke de

Nemours had yellow and black; why he had them could not be found out:

Madam de Cleves only knew the reason of it; she remembered to have said

before him she loved yellow, and that she was sorry her complexion did

not suit that colour. As for the Duke, he thought he might take that

colour without any indiscretion, since not being worn by Madam de

Cleves it could not be suspected to be hers.

The four champions showed the greatest address that can be imagined;

though the King was the best horseman in his kingdom, it was hard to

say which of them most excelled. The Duke de Nemours had a grace in

all his actions which might have inclined to his favour persons less

interested than Madam de Cleves. She no sooner saw him appear at the

end of the lists, but her heart felt uncommon emotions, and every

course he made she could scarce hide her joy when he had successfully

finished his career.

In the evening, when all was almost over, and the company ready to

break up, so it was for the misfortune of the State, that the King

would needs break another lance; he sent orders to the Count de

Montgomery, who was a very dextrous combatant, to appear in the lists.

The Count begged the King to excuse him, and alleged all the reasons

for it he could think of; but the King, almost angry, sent him word he

absolutely commanded him to do it. The Queen conjured the King not to

run any more, told him he had performed so well that he ought to be

satisfied, and desired him to go with her to her apartments; he made

answer, it was for her sake that he would run again; and entered the

barrier; she sent the Duke of Savoy to him to entreat him a second time

to return, but to no purpose; he ran; the lances were broke, and a

splinter of the Count de Montgomery's lance hit the King's eye, and

stuck there. The King fell; his gentlemen and Monsieur de Montmorency,

who was one of the Mareschals of the field, ran to him; they were

astonished to see him wounded, but the King was not at all

disheartened; he said, that it was but a slight hurt, and that he

forgave the Count de Montgomery. One may imagine what sorrow and

affliction so fatal an accident occasioned on a day set apart to mirth

and joy. The King was carried to bed, and the surgeons having examined

his wound found it very considerable. The Constable immediately called

to mind the prediction which had been told the King, that he should be

killed in single fight; and he made no doubt but the prediction would

be now accomplished. The King of Spain, who was then at Brussels, being

advertised of this accident, sent his physician, who was a man of great

reputation, but that physician judged the King past hope.

A Court so divided, and filled with so many opposite interests, could

not but be in great agitation on the breaking out of so grand an event;

nevertheless all things were kept quiet, and nothing was seen but a

general anxiety for the King's health. The Queens, the Princes and

Princesses hardly ever went out of his anti-chamber.

Madam de Cleves, knowing that she was obliged to be there, that she

should see there the Duke de Nemours, and that she could not conceal

from her husband the disorder she should be in upon seeing him, and

being sensible also that the mere presence of that Prince would justify

him in her eyes and destroy all her resolutions, thought proper to

feign herself ill. The Court was too busy to give attention to her

conduct, or to enquire whether her illness was real or counterfeit; her

husband alone was able to come at the truth of the matter, but she was

not at all averse to his knowing it. Thus she continued at home,

altogether heedless of the great change that was soon expected, and

full of her own thoughts, which she was at full liberty to give herself

up to. Everyone went to Court to enquire after the King's health, and

Monsieur de Cleves came home at certain times to give her an account of

it; he behaved himself to her in the same manner he used to do, except

when they were alone, and then there appeared something of coldness and

reserve: he had not spoke to her again concerning what had passed, nor

had she power, nor did she think it convenient to resume the discourse

of it.

The Duke de Nemours, who had waited for an opportunity of speaking to

Madam de Cleves, was surprised and afflicted not to have had so much as

the pleasure to see her. The King's illness increased so much, that

the seventh day he was given over by the physicians; he received the

news of the certainty of his death with an uncommon firmness of mind;

which was the more to be admired, considering that he lost his life by

so unfortunate an accident, that he died in the flower of his age,

happy, adored by his people, and beloved by a mistress he was

desperately in love with. The evening before his death he caused

Madame his sister to be married to the Duke of Savoy without ceremony.

One may judge what condition the Duchess of Valentinois was in; the

Queen would not permit her to see the King, but sent to demand of her

the King's signets, and the jewels of the crown which she had in her

custody. The Duchess enquired if the King was dead, and being

answered, "No"; "I have then as yet no other matter," said she, "and

nobody can oblige me to restore what he has trusted in my hands." As

soon as the King expired at Chateau de Toumelles, the Duke of Ferrara,

the Duke of Guise, and the Duke de Nemours conducted the Queen-Mother,

the New King and the Queen-Consort to the Louvre. The Duke de Nemours

led the Queen-Mother. As they began to march, she stepped back a

little, and told the Queen her daughter-in-law, it was her place to go

first; but it was easy to see, that there was more of spleen than

decorum in this compliment.