Viscount de Valmont _to the_ Presidente de Tourvel.
Though the conditions you impose on me, Madam, are severe indeed,
I shall not refuse to comply; for I perceive it is impossible for
me to oppose any of your wishes. As we are agreed on this point,
I dare flatter myself that, in return, you will permit me to make
some requests, much easier to be granted than yours, and which,
notwithstanding, I don’t wish to obtain but through a perfect
resignation to your will.
The one, which I hope your justice will suggest, is, to name my
accusers; I think the injury they have done me authorises me to demand
who they are: the other request, for which I crave your indulgence, is,
to permit me sometimes to renew the homage of a passion, which now,
more than ever, will deserve your pity.
Reflect, Madam, that I am earnest to obey you, even at the expence of
my happiness; I will go farther, notwithstanding my conviction, that
you only wish my absence to rid you of the painful sight of the victim
of your injustice.
Be ingenuous, Madam; you dread less the public censure, too long used
to reverence you, to dare to harbour a disadvantageous opinion of you,
than to be made uneasy by the presence of a man, whom it is easier to
punish than to blame. You banish me on the same principle that people
turn their eyes from the miserable wretches they do not choose to
relieve.
And then absence will redouble my torments; to whom but you can I
relate my grievances? From what other person am I to expect that
consolation, which will become so necessary in my affliction? Will you,
who are the cause, refuse me that consolation?
Be not surprised, neither that before my departure, I should endeavour
to justify my sentiments for you, nor that I shall not have the
resolution to set out, until I receive the order from your own mouth.
Those reasons oblige me to request a moment’s interview. It would be
in vain to think that a correspondence by letter would answer the end.
Volumes often cannot explain what a quarter of an hour’s conversation
will do. You will readily find time to grant me this favour; for,
notwithstanding my eagerness to obey you, as Madame de Rosemonde is
well apprised of my design to spend a part of the autumn with her, I
must, at all events, wait the return of the post, to pretend a letter
of business obliging me to return.
Farewell, Madam; never till now did I experience the force of this
expression, which recalls to me the idea of my separation from you.
If you could conceive how distressingly it affects me, my obedience
would find me some favour in your sight. Receive, however, with more
indulgence, the homage of the most tender and respectful passion.
_Aug._ 26,17—.
_Sequel to the Fortieth Letter._
_From the_ Viscount de Valmont _to the_ Marchioness de Merteuil.
Now, my lovely friend, let us discuss this affair a little. You readily
conceive, that the virtuous, the scrupulous Madame de Tourvel, cannot
grant the first of my requests—that of informing me who my accusers
are, without a breach of friendship: thus, by promising every thing
on that condition, I am not at all committed; and you must be very
sensible, that the negative she must give me, will give me a title to
all my other objects; so that, by leaving this place, I shall obtain
the advantage of a regular correspondence, with her own consent; for I
don’t set great value upon the interview that I ask, by which I mean
no more than to accustom her beforehand not to refuse other personal
applications to her, when I shall have real occasion for them.
The only thing that remains to be done before my departure is, to know
who are those that take the trouble to prejudice me in her opinion.
I presume it is that pedantic scoundrel her husband; I wish it may;
for, as a conjugal prohibition is a spur to desire, I should be certain
that from the moment of gaining her consent to write to me, I should
have nothing more to fear from the husband, because she would then find
herself under the necessity of deceiving him.
And if she has a confidential friend, and that friend should be against
me, I think it will be necessary to raise a cause of misunderstanding
between them, in which I hope to succeed: but, in the first place, I
must see my way clear.
I imagined yesterday I had attained that necessary preliminary; but
this woman does not act like any other. We were in her apartment when
dinner was announced. She had just time to finish her toilet; and from
her hurry, and making apologies, I observed her leave the key in her
bureau; and she always leaves the key in her chamber door. My mind was
full of this during dinner. When I heard her waiting-maid coming down
stairs, I instantly feigned a bleeding at the nose, and went out. I
flew to the bureau, found all the drawers open, but not a single paper;
yet there is no occasion to burn them, situated as she is. What can she
do with the letters she receives? and she receives a great many. I left
nothing unexamined; all was open, and I searched every where; so that I
am convinced this precious deposit is confided only to her pocket.
How they are to be got at, my mind has been fruitlessly employed ever
since yesterday in contriving means: I cannot conquer my inclination
to gain possession of them. I often regret that I have not the talent
of a pickpocket. Don’t you think it ought to be made a part of the
education of a man of intrigue? Would it not be humorous enough to
steal a letter or a portrait of a rival, or to extract from the pocket
of a prude, materials to unmask her? But our forefathers had no ideas:
it is in vain for me to rack my brains; for it only convinces me of my
own inability, without furnishing me any remedy.
I returned to dinner very dissatisfied: my fair one however brought me
into good humour, by her anxious enquiries on my feigned indisposition:
I did not fail to assure her that I had for some short time, violent
agitations, which impaired my health. As she is persuaded the cause
proceeded from her, ought she not in conscience endeavour to calm
them? Although a devotee, she has very little charity; she refuses any
compliance to supplications of love; and this refusal appears to me
sufficient to authorise any theft to obtain the object. But adieu; for
although I am writing to you, my mind is taken up with those cursed
letters.
_Aug._ 27, 17—.