Viscount de Valmont _to the_ Presidente de Tourvel.
From whence proceeds, Madam, the cruel care you take to avoid me? How
does it happen, that the most tender eagerness on my part, can only
obtain from you an indifference, that one could scarcely justify to a
man who had even done one an injury? When love recalls me to your feet,
and a happy accident places me beside you, you would rather feign an
indisposition, and alarm your friends, than consent to remain near me.
How often yesterday did you turn away your eyes from me, to deprive me
of the pleasure of a look; and if, for an instant, I could observe less
severity in them, it seemed as if you intended not that I should enjoy
it, but that I should feel my loss in being deprived of it.
This is, I dare say, a treatment not consistent with love, nor can
it be permitted to friendship; and yet you know that one of those
sentiments animates me, and I thought myself authorised to believe
you would not refuse me the other. This precious friendship, which
you undoubtedly thought me worthy of, as you condescended to offer
it, what have I since done to forfeit? Have I prejudiced myself by
my frankness; and will you punish me for my candour? Are you not, at
least, afraid of offending the one or the other? For is it not in the
bosom of my friend I deposit the secrets of my heart? Is it not to
her alone I thought myself obliged to refuse conditions which, had I
accepted, would give me an opportunity of breaking them, and, perhaps,
of successfully abusing them? Or would you force me to believe, by so
undeserved a rigour, if I had deceived you, I should have gained more
indulgence?
I do not repent of a conduct I owe to you and myself: but by what
fatality is it, that every laudable action of mine becomes the signal
of a new misfortune to me?
And after having, by my obedience, merited the only praise you have
vouchsafed to bestow on my conduct, I now, for the first time, lament
the misfortune of displeasing you. After giving you proofs of my entire
submission, by depriving myself of the happiness of seeing you, to
please your delicacy, you want to break off your correspondence with
me, and take away this feeble amends of a sacrifice you exacted, to
deprive me of my love, which alone could have given you that right. In
fine, it is after speaking to you with a sincerity which even my love
could not weaken, you fly from me to-day as a dangerous seductor, whose
perfidiousness was fully proved.
Will you then never cease being unjust? Inform me, at least, what new
wrongs I have committed, that could cause so much severity; and do not
refuse to prescribe the orders you would have me follow. Surely it is
not too much to desire to know, when I engage to execute them.
_Sept._ 15, 17—.