Viscount de Valmont _to the_ Marchioness de Merteuil.
Yesterday, at three in the afternoon, being impatient, my lovely
friend, at not having any news, I presented myself at the house of
the fair abandoned, and was told she was gone out. In this reply I
could see nothing more than a refusal to admit me, which neither
surprised nor vexed me; I retired, in hope this step would induce so
polished a woman to give me an answer. The desire I had to receive one,
made me call home about nine, but found nothing. Astonished at this
silence, which I did not expect, I sent my huntsman on the enquiry for
information, whether the tender fair was dead or dying. At my return,
he informed me, Madame de Tourvel had actually gone out at eleven in
the morning with her waiting maid; that she ordered her carriage to the
convent of ——; that at seven in the evening she had sent her carriage
and servants back, sending word they should not expect her home. This
is certainly acting with propriety. The convent is the only asylum
for a widow; and if she persists in so laudable a resolution, I shall
add to all the obligations I already lay under, the celebrity this
adventure will now have.
I told you sometime ago, notwithstanding your uneasiness, I would again
appear in the world with more brilliant eclat. Let those severe critics
now show themselves, who accused me of a romantic passion; let them
make a more expeditious and shining rupture: no, let them do more; bid
them go offer their consolations—the road is chalked out for them; let
them only dare run the career I have gone over entirely, and if any one
obtains the least success, I will yield him up the first place: but
they shall all experience when I am in earnest; the impression I leave
is indelible. This one I affirm will be so. I should even look on all
former triumphs as trifles, if I was ever to have a favoured rival.
I own the step she has taken flatters my vanity; yet I am sorry she had
so much fortitude to separate from me. There will be no obstacle, then,
between us, but of my own formation. If I should be inclined to renew
our connection, she, perhaps, would refuse; perhaps not pant for it,
not think it the summit of happiness! Is this love? And do you think,
my charming friend, I should bear it? Could I not, for example, and
would it not be better, endeavour to bring this woman to the point
of foreseeing a possibility of a reconciliation, always wished for
while there is hope? I could try this course without any consequence,
without giving you umbrage. It would be only a mere trial we would
make in concert. Even if I should be successful, it would be only an
additional means of renewing, at your pleasure, a sacrifice which has
seemed agreeable to you. Now, my charming friend, I am yet to receive
my reward, and all my vows are for your return. Come, then, speedily to
your lover, your pleasures, your friends, and the pursuit of adventures.
That of the little Volanges has had a surprising turn. Yesterday, as my
uneasiness would not suffer me to stay long in a place, in my various
excursions I called at Madame Volanges’s. I found your pupil in the
saloon, in the drapery of a sick person, but in full health, fresher,
and more interesting. Some of you ladies, in such a case would keep
your beds for a month, Oh, rare lasses! Egad, this one has given me a
strong inclination to know if the cure be complete.
I had almost forgot to tell you, the little girl’s accident had like
to have turned your _sentimental_ Danceny’s brain: at first it was
for grief, but now it is with joy. _His Cecilia_ was sick. You will
agree, the brain must turn with such a misfortune. Three times a day
did he send to enquire about her, and never missed every day going
himself; at last, he wrote a fine epistle to the mama, begging leave
to go and congratulate her on the recovery of so dear an object;
Madame de Volanges assented; so that I found the young man established
as heretofore, only not quite so familiar. This narrative I had from
himself; for I came out with him, and made him prate. You can’t
conceive what an effect this visit had on him; his joy, his wishes,
his transports are inexpressible. As I am fond of grand emotions, I
finished him, by telling him, in a few days I hoped to place him much
nearer his fair one.
I am determined to give her up to him as soon as I have made my trial.
I will devote myself entirely to you; moreover, I don’t see it would
be worth while your pupil should be my scholar, if she had only a
husband to deceive. The _chef d’œuvre_ is to deceive the lover!
and the first lover too! For I can’t reproach myself with even having
pronounced the word love.
Adieu, my lovely friend! Return as soon as possible to resume your
empire over me, to receive my homage, and give me my reward.
_Paris, Nov._ 28, 17—.