In fact, this is how for some long time I’ve managed to prevent him from playing any part on centre-stage, as we call it;* so he was performing prodigies without increasing his fame. But his brilliant triple exploit has focused everybody’s eyes on him and given him the confidence he’s hitherto lacked; it has turned him into a formidable proposition. In a word, he’s now possibly the only man whom I’d be afraid to cross swords with; so apart from your own interests, you’d be doing me a real favour by making him look a bit silly on the way. I leave him in good hands and have every hope that by the time I come back he’ll have sunk without trace.
In return, I promise to bring the affair with your young neophyte to a successful conclusion and to give her as much of my attention as I’m giving my lovely puritan.
She’s just submitted a capitulation proposal. Her whole letter is an open invitation to be lied to; it’s impossible to find a handier and at the same time more threadbare method: she wants me to be her friend. But I’m rather fond of novelty and something more arduous and I’ve no inclination to let her off so lightly. And I’ve certainly not taken all this trouble over her to end up with your run-of-the-mill seduction.
My plan is to make her understand the full price she’s got to pay, the gravity of each sacrifice she’ll be making; never to press on so fast that she can’t feel remorse catching up with her; to bring her virtue to a protracted, agonizing death; never to let her lose sight of this prospect and not to grant her the joy of holding me in her arms until I’ve forced her to realize how much she’s panting for it. After all, if I’m not worth the asking, I’m not worth very much. And how could I settle for anything less to pay off my score with an arrogant woman ashamed to admit that she adores me?*
So I turned down the precious offer of friendship and stuck to my guns as a lover. As I’m not unaware that such a status, which at first sight seems a distinction without a difference, is a matter of real importance, I took great care with my letter and endeavoured to scatter freely the signs of turmoil which are the only way to depict this emotion. In a word, since loving equals raving, I raved as much as I could; incidentally, I think this is the reason why women’s love-letters are so much better than ours.
I finished mine off with a little flourish of flattery, which again is a result of my deep study of the matter. After women’s hearts have been given a good run round, they need a rest, and I’ve noticed that for all of them, flattery is the softest pillow to provide that.
Goodbye, fair lady. I’m off tomorrow. If you have any instructions to give me for the Comtesse de——, I’ll be stopping off at her place, at least for dinner. I’m sorry to leave without having seen you. Transmit your sublime instructions to me and let me enjoy the benefit of your wise advice at this decisive moment.
Above all, be on your guard against Prévan and may I one day be able to compensate you for this sacrifice! Farewell.
71
The Vicomte de Valmont to the Marquise de Merteuil From the Château de L ——, 13 September 17—
Can you imagine? My idiot of a valet has left the file of all my papers behind in Paris. The letters from my beautiful beloved, Danceny’s to the Volanges girl, everything’s in it and I need the lot. He’s going back to rectify his stupid blunder and while he’s saddling his horse, I’ll tell you my story of last night’s happenings. I want you to see that I’m not wasting my time.
In itself it’s a rather trivial adventure; a rehash of my affair with the Vicomtesse de M ——. But the details aren’t without their interest. I’m glad to be able to demonstrate to you that even if I do have a gift for ruining women, I’m still capable of rescuing them as well, when I put my mind to it. I always go for the hardest solution or the funniest and I never feel guilty at performing a good deed, provided it keeps me amused and on my toes.
So I found the Vicomtesse staying here and when she added her urgings to the other positively bullying invitations being made for me to stay the night, I said to her: ‘I agree on condition that I can spend it with you.’ ‘Impossible,’ she replied, ‘Vressac’s here.’ Up till then, I’d merely been trying to be civil; but as always, the word ‘impossible’ stuck in my gizzard. I felt mortified at being a victim of Vressac and determined not to tolerate it. So I stood my ground.
Circumstances were against me. This man Vressac had been inept enough to get into the Vicomte’s bad books so that the Vicomtesse can no longer invite him to her house; hence this trip to the dear Comtesse’s, arranged between the two in an endeavour to snatch a few nights away. At first the Vicomte had looked rather put out at seeing him there but since he’s even keener on shooting than being jealous, he stayed on none the less; and the Comtesse, the same as you know of old, after giving the wife a room on the main corridor, put the husband on one side and the lover on the other, leaving them to sort things out for themselves. It was their bad luck that I had the room opposite …
That very day, that is to say yesterday, Vressac, who as you may well imagine is doing his best to keep in with the Vicomte, had been out shooting with him, even though he’s not keen on it, and was looking forward to consoling himself that night in the wife’s arms for the boredom the husband was inflicting on him during the day. However, I felt he needed a bit of a rest and I set about devising ways and means of persuading his mistress to give him the chance of getting some.
So at my suggestion she agreed to pick a quarrel with him on the subject of the very same shooting party which he’d quite obviously gone on only for her sake. You could hardly pick on a worse pretext; but though all women are notoriously fonder of nagging than reasoning and never harder to pacify than when they’re in the wrong, the Vicomtesse has turned these gifts into a fine art. In any case, it wasn’t the right time for arguing and as I only wanted one night, I was prepared to let them make it up next day.
So when he came back, Vressac got the cold shoulder. When he asked the reason: the Vicomtesse jumped down his throat. He tried to justify himself but the husband came up, giving her the opportunity to break off the conversation. In the end Vressac took advantage of a moment when her husband was out of the room to ask if she would agree to give him a hearing that night. Hereupon the Vicomtesse rose to sublime heights: in indignant tones she berated those crude males who, on the grounds that a woman has granted them some favours, assume they have the right to continue to exploit her good nature even when she has legitimate cause for complaint against them. Having thus skilfully changed her ground, she discoursed so eloquently on delicacy and sensitiveness that Vressac was rendered speechless and bewildered and even I was tempted to believe her—you realize, of course, that as a friend of both parties, I was one of the trio during this conversation.
In the end she declared categorically that she had no intention of adding the exertions of love to those of shooting and she would feel downright guilty at interfering with such gentle pastimes. The husband came back and the disconsolate Vressac, now prevented from speaking freely, turned to me and after a lengthy exposition of his reasons, which I knew as well as he, begged me to put in a good word for him with the Vicomtesse. I promised to do so and did in fact have a word with her, but only to thank her and settle the details and time of our encounter.
She explained that as her room was between her husband’s and her lover’s, she had thought it wiser to go to Vressac’s rather than have him in hers and so all I had to do was to leave my door ajar and wait.
Everything went according to plan and about one o’clock in the morning she arrived in my room,
dans le simple appareil
D’une beauté qu’on vient d’arracher au sommeil*
Not being vain, I shan’t dwell on the details of that night but you know what I’m like. I wasn’t displeased with my performance.*
At dawn, we had to part. This is where the plot thickens. The silly woman thought she’d left the door ajar but we found it shut, with the key inside. You can’t imagine the look of utter despair with which the Vicomtesse imme
diately exclaimed: ‘Oh, I’m ruined!’ And it can’t be denied that it would have been fun to leave her in that predicament. But how could I allow a woman to be ruined through me but not by me? And was I to be at the mercy of events like any ordinary mortal? A way had to be found. What would you have done, fair lady? This is what I did and it worked.
I’d quickly realized that the door in question could be broken down, though with a great deal of noise. So with some difficulty I prevailed on the Vicomtesse to utter terrified screams of Thief! Murder! and so on, while at her first scream I was to break open the door and she would rush in and jump into bed. You can’t imagine how long it took to persuade her, even after she’d agreed. However, in the end, it had to be done: she screamed—and with one kick the door came open. It was a good thing the Vicomtesse was quick off the mark for within seconds the Vicomte and Vressac both appeared in the corridor and the maid ran to her mistress’s room as well.
I was the only one to keep my head and was thus able to rush over to a nightlight that was still burning and tip it over on to the floor: you’ll understand how ludicrous the pretended panic would have seemed in a lighted room. I then rebuked the husband and the lover for sleeping so soundly, assuring them that the screams which had brought me out of bed to knock down the door had been going on for a good five minutes.
Now that she was in bed, the Vicomtesse had recovered her courage and backed me up pretty well, swearing by all the saints that there had been an intruder in her room and declaring, with greater veracity, that she’d never been so scared in her whole life. We searched everywhere without finding anything. Then I pointed out the overturned nightlight and drew the conclusion that no doubt a rat had been the cause of the damage and the scare. My verdict was unanimously accepted and after a few stale jokes about rats, the Vicomte was the first to go back to his room and his bed, requesting his wife in future to keep her rats quiet.
Vressac was left alone with us. He went over to the Vicomtesse and said it was love taking its revenge, to which she replied with a glance towards me: ‘Then love must have been very angry because his vengeance was terrible’; adding, ‘but I’m worn out and must get some sleep’.
Feeling in charitable mood, before we parted I pleaded Vressac’s cause and won it: the two lovers kissed and made friends and both then embraced me. I’d lost interest in the Vicomtesse’s kisses but I must confess that I enjoyed being embraced by Vressac. We both left together and after lengthy expressions of gratitude on his part, we each went off to our separate beds.
If you find this story amusing I’m not asking you to keep it to yourself. Now that I’ve had my fun out of it, it’s only fair to give the public its turn. For the moment, I’m only thinking just of the story itself: but maybe we can do the same thing with the heroine some time in the near future.
Goodbye, my man’s been waiting for an hour. I’ve only just time to embrace you and warn you to be particularly on your guard against Prévan.
72
The Chevalier Danceny to Cécile Volanges (not delivered until the 14th) Paris, 11 September 17—
Dear Cécile, my Cécile, oh, how I envy Valmont! He’ll be seeing you tomorrow. It’s he who’s going to pass this letter on to you while I shall be pining away far from you, brooding in sorrow and misery. Cécile my love, my tender-hearted Cécile, you must commiserate with me for all my troubles but especially for yours, because it is they which are breaking my heart.
How terrible it is for me to realize that I’m the cause of your unhappiness! But for me, you would be happy and at peace. Can you ever forgive me? Oh, tell me that you do, tell me, too, that you love me, that you’ll always love me. I need to hear you say those words over and over again, not that I have any doubts but it seems to me that the more certain one is, the more one wants to hear it. You do love me, don’t you? Yes, you love me heart and soul. I don’t forget that those were the last words I heard you say. And how gladly I gathered them into my heart where they’re now engraved so deeply! And how my own heart rejoiced in response!
Alas, at that blissful moment I was far from foreseeing the dreadful fate which was to overtake us! Cécile dear, we must try to find a way to soften its blows. And in order to achieve that, if I can believe my friend, you need only show him the complete trust he deserves.
I must admit that I was hurt by the unfavourable opinion you seem to have of him. I recognized the influence of your Mama’s prejudices: it was through deferring to them that for a while I’d been neglecting that truly lovable man who at the moment is doing everything he can for me, who indeed is working to bring us together again now that your mother has come between us. I entreat you, Cécile dear, to look at him in a more favourable light. Remember he is my friend, that he wants to become your friend too, that through him I shall have the joy of seeing you. If these reasons don’t convince you, darling Cécile, then you don’t love me as much as you used to. O Heavens, if you ever stopped loving me so much, I could never console myself, I’d sooner die. But it’s impossible, my Cécile’s heart belongs to me for ever and even if I’m suffering the pangs of thwarted love, at least her constancy will spare me the torment of love betrayed.
Goodbye, my enchantress; don’t forget how much I am suffering and that only you are able to make me the happiest man in the whole world. Listen to my pledge of love, which comes with love’s most tender kisses!
73
The Vicomte de Valmont to Cécile Volanges (enclosed with letter 72) At the Château de ——, 14 September 17—
The friend who is helping you learned that you have nothing to write with and he has already attended to the matter: in the antechamber of the room you are occupying, you will find a supply of paper, pens, and ink under the large wardrobe on the left; he will renew these as necessary; he thinks you can leave them there unless you can find any safer hiding-place.
He asks you not to be offended if he appears to pay you no attention in company and to treat you as a child. Such behaviour seems to him appropriate to create the confidence he needs in order to work more effectively towards his friend’s and your own happiness. He will try to provide opportunities to speak to you when he has anything to communicate or pass over to you, if you give him your whole-hearted support.
He advises you also to hand back the letters you receive in order to reduce the risk or your being compromised.
Finally, he wishes to assure you that if you let him have your trust, he will do everything in his power to alleviate the persecution being inflicted by an inordinately cruel mother on two people of whom one is already his best friend and the other seems to him to deserve his most devoted attention.
74
The Marquise de Merteuil to the Vicomte de Valmont Paris, 15 September 17—
Well, well! How long have you been so easy to scare? Is this man Prévan really so formidable? Please note how simple and modest I am! I’ve met him often, this conquering hero of yours: I hardly spared him a glance! It took your letter to draw him to my attention. I made up for my omission yesterday at the Opéra. He was sitting opposite me and I observed him closely. At least he’s pretty, definitely very pretty; such clean-cut, delicate features! He must look even nicer close to. And you tell me he wants to have me? I shall take it as an honour… and a pleasure. Seriously though, I do fancy him and I must tell you that I’ve set the ball rolling. I can’t be certain if it’ll work but here’s what I did.
As we were coming out of the opera he was standing a couple of yards away and in a loud voice I arranged with the Marquise de ——that we should have supper together at the Maréchale’s on Friday, that being the only place, I think, where I can meet him. I’ve no doubt he heard me. And suppose the ungrateful man were to fail to turn up? You know, if he doesn’t I shall be really cross for the rest of the evening. As you see, he’s not going to find it so terribly hard to keep up with me; and here’s something you’ll find more surprising, he’ll find it even less hard to please me. ‘He wants’, he says, ‘to ride six hor
ses to death in pursuit of me!’ Oh, I can’t bear to let those poor little gee-gees die for my sake! You know it’s not a principle of mine to let anyone pine away for me once I’ve made up my mind, which I have about him.
Well now, you must agree that it’s a pleasure to give me sensible advice! Your serious word of warning has been a great success, hasn’t it? But what else can a woman do? I’ve been vegetating for so long! I haven’t had any fun for more than six weeks. And now this chance turns up: how can I turn it down? Isn’t the subject worth the trouble? Is there anyone more acceptable in every sense of the word?
Even you yourself feel obliged to give him his due; you don’t just praise him: you’re actually jealous of him. Well, I’ll adjudicate between the two of you but first of all I must investigate and that’s what I intend to do. I’m an unbiased judge and shall weigh you both in the same balance. Your own case is already fully documented, so I’ve no need to investigate you further. Is it not only fair to turn my attention now to your rival? So come along, submit gracefully and for a start tell me all about this threefold adventure of which he was the hero. You talk as if I can’t possibly have heard of anything else but I don’t know the first thing about it. Apparently it’s supposed to have occurred during my trip to Geneva and you were too jealous to write and tell me about it. Please make good this oversight as quickly as possible: don’t forget that nothing which concerns him is indifferent to me* I have a vague idea that people were still talking about it when I came back but I had other things on my mind at the time and I very seldom listen to that sort of gossip unless it’s something that’s actually happened that same day or the day before.
Les Liaisons Dangereuses Page 20