_The_ Marchioness de Merteuil _to_ Chevalier Danceny.
I received your letter, my very young friend, and must scold you before
you receive my thanks for it; farther I warn you, if you do not amend,
you shall not have any answer from me. Leave, then, that wheedling
style, which is but mere cant, when it is not the expression of love.
Is it the style of friendship? No, my dear friend; each sentiment
has its peculiar language suitable to it; and to use another, is to
disguise the thought we should express. I am well aware our silly women
do not understand what is said to them, unless it is translated in some
shape into this fashionable nonsense: but I imagined you would have
distinguished me from them. I am really hurt, and, perhaps, more than I
ought, you should imbibe such an opinion of me.
You will find in my letter what is wanting in yours, frankness and
simplicity. As I shall say, it would give me infinite pleasure to see
you, and am grieved to have only those about me who stupify me instead
of those that give me pleasure; but you translate this same phrase
thus: _Teach me to live where you are absent_; thus, suppose you was
with your mistress, you could not live was I absent. What a misfortune!
And these women _that always fail being me!_ You will find, perhaps,
that wanting also to your Cecilia! This, however, is the style which,
by the abuse now made of it, is beneath the nonsense of compliment, and
becomes a mere precedent, to which no more attention is paid than to
your most humble servant.
My dear friend, when you write to me, let it be to express your
thoughts and feelings, and do not stuff your letter with phrases,
which I shall find, without your assistance, well or ill told in the
first romance of the day. I hope you will not be displeased at what
I now say, if even you should discover some peevishness in it; for
it must not be denied I am a little so at present. To avoid even the
shadow of the defect with which I reproach you, you must not be told,
perhaps, this peevishness is not a little increased by the distance I
am from you. And I am inclined to think, all things considered, you are
more eligible than a law suit and two lawyers, and, perhaps, even the
_attentive_ Belleroche.
Observe, instead of being afflicted at my absence, you should
be highly gratified; for I never before paid you so handsome a
compliment. Your example influences me; I shall be apt to wheedle.
No; I will retain my sincerity: it alone assures you of my tender
friendship, and the interesting things it inspires. Is it not very
pleasing to have a young friend, whose inclinations lead him elsewhere?
However, that is not the system of the generality of women, but it is
mine. I always thought the pleasure greater, and more satisfactory,
in a sentiment where there is no apprehension. Don’t you think I have
assumed the character of confidant for you tolerably soon: but you
choose your mistress so young, that, for the first time, I begin to
think I grow old. You are certainly right, thus to prepare yourself for
a long career of constancy; and I sincerely wish it may be reciprocal.
You do right to cherish the _tender and honourable motives_, which you
say _retard your hopes._ A long defence is the only merit of those who
do not always resist; and I should think it unpardonable in any other
but a child, like the little Volanges, not to fly a danger, of which
she has had sufficient warning by the confession she made of her love.
You men have no idea of virtue, and what the sacrifice of it costs
a woman; but if she is capable of reasoning, she should know, that
independent of the fault she commits, a single weakness is one of the
greatest misfortunes; and I cannot conceive how any can fall, if they
have a moment for reflection.
Do not attempt to combat this idea: it principally attaches me to you.
You will save me from the dangers of love; and although I have hitherto
guarded myself against them without your assistance, yet I consent to
be grateful, and shall love you more and the better for it.
On which, my dear chevalier, I pray God to have you in his holy keeping.
_Castle of_ ——, _Oct._ 22, 17—.