_The_ Presidente de Tourvel _to_ Madame Volanges.
The severity of your letter would have terrified me strangely, dear
madam, if I had not here stronger reasons to think myself perfectly
safe, than those you give me for apprehension. The formidable Mr.
de Valmont, the terror of our sex, seems to have laid aside his
murderous arms, before he entered this castle. Far from having formed
any design, he did not even appear to have brought any claims; and
the accomplishments of an amiable man, which his enemies even give
to him, almost vanish to give place to the character of good-natured
creature. Probably it is the country air has wrought this miracle;
one thing I can assure you, tho’ incessantly with me, even seemingly
pleased with my company, not a word that has the least tendency to love
has escaped him, not even one of those phrases that most men assume,
without having, like him, any thing to plead in their justification.
Never does he put one under the necessity of flying for shelter to
that reservedness to which a woman, who will maintain her dignity, is
obliged to have recourse now-a-days, to keep the men within bounds. He
does not abuse the gaiety he inspires. Perhaps he flatters a little too
much; but it is with so much delicacy, that he would reconcile even
modesty to praise. To conclude, had I a brother, I would wish him to be
what Mr. de Valmont is here. There are many women, perhaps, would wish
him to have a more _pointed_ gallantry; and I own I am greatly obliged
to him for the good opinion he entertains, by not confounding me with
them.
This description undoubtedly differs very much from that you have given
me; and yet they may both carry a resemblance, if we ascertain our
times. He himself agrees he has done many wrong things, and, perhaps,
the world has imputed many more to him. But I have seldom met with men
who spoke more respectfully of women of character, almost to enthusiasm.
In this point, at least, you inform me he is not a deceiver. I rest
the proof on his conduct to Madame de Merteuil. He often speaks of
her; and always so much in her praise, and with the appearance of so
much affection, that I imagined, until I received your letter, that
what he had called friendship was really love. I condemn myself for
my rash opinion, in which I am the more blameable, as he himself has
frequently spoke in her justification; and I own his honest sincerity
I looked on as artifice. I don’t know, but it appears to me, that the
man who is capable of so constant a friendship for a deserving woman,
cannot be an abandoned libertine; but whether we are to attribute
his prudent conduct here to any scheme in this neighbourhood, as you
suppose, is a question. There are some few agreeable women around us;
however, he seldom goes abroad except in the morning, and then he says
he goes a shooting; he seldom brings home any game, it is true, but he
tells us he is a bad shot. However, what he does out of doors, concerns
me but little; and if I wished to be informed, it would be only to have
one more reason to come into your opinion, or to bring you over to mine.
As to what you propose, that I should endeavour to shorten the time
of Mr. de Valmont’s residence here, it appears to me a matter of
some difficulty, to desire an aunt not to have her nephew with her;
and a nephew for whom she has the greatest affection. However, I
promise you, through deference only, and not that I see any necessity
for it, to take the first opportunity to make this request either
to him or her. As to myself, Mr. de Tourvel is acquainted with my
intention of remaining here until his return, and he would, with
reason, be astonished at my levity. Thus, Madam, I have given you a
long explanation; but I thought a justification of Mr. de Valmont to
you, where it appears very necessary, a debt to truth. I am not the
less sensible of the friendship which suggested your advice. I am also
indebted to it for the obliging manner in which you acquaint me of the
delay of Madame de Volanges’ nuptials, for which accept my most sincere
thanks; but whatever pleasure I might expect on that occasion in your
company, would be willingly sacrificed to the satisfaction of knowing
Mademoiselle de Volanges’ happiness sooner completed, if, after all,
she can be more so than with a mother, every way deserving her respect
and tenderness. I partake with her those sentiments which attach me
to you, and beg you’ll receive this assurance of them with your usual
goodness.