The fateful day arrived, that day when I was to lose my honour and my reputation; I gave my trusty Victoire her instructions which she carried out in the way you’re about to see.
Meanwhile, evening came; when Prévan was announced, a lot of my guests had already arrived. I greeted him with pointed politeness to stress how slightly I knew him and sat him at the Maréchale’s table, as it was through her that I had made his acquaintance. The evening brought forth nothing except a very short note that my discreet admirer managed to slip me and which I burned, in accordance with my usual practice. In it he assured me that I could rely on him and he wrapped this simple message up in the usual sycophantic words—love, happiness, and so forth—which never fail to crop up when such romps are concerned.
At midnight, as all the games had finished, I suggested a brief spell of gallimaufry.* This had the dual purpose of facilitating Prévan’s exit and at the same time making it obvious to everybody, as it was bound to be, in view of his reputation as a gambler. I was also glad that people would be able to recall, if need be, that I’d been in no hurry to be left on my own.
The game lasted longer than I’d anticipated. The Devil was tempting me and I succumbed to my longing to go and comfort my impatient captive. So there I was, heading for disaster when the thought struck me that once I’d given myself completely, I’d no longer have the power to force him to remain decently dressed, as my plan required. I had the strength to resist. I retraced my steps and came back, rather crossly, to take part in the interminable game. However, end it finally did and everyone took themselves off. As for me, I rang for my maids, undressed in a flash, and sent them off too.
And now, Vicomte, behold me in my night attire, walking shyly and demurely to my doom, with hesitant hand opening the door to my future lord and master. He catches sight of me: it was like greased lightning. What can I say? Before I could utter a word to stop him or to defend myself, I was overrun, but completely overrun! So far, so good: but now he becomes disgruntled, he felt uncomfortable all dressed up, it was preventing him from making closer contact, he wanted to be in a state more appropriate to our situation, to come to grips with me on equal terms. But my extreme modesty thwarted his plans and my fondling hands left him no respite to put them into operation. He turned his attention to other things …
Having now doubled his stakes, he again started insisting. But this time it was my turn. ‘Listen to me,’ I said. ‘Up till now the tale you’ll have to tell the two Comtesses de P ——and hundreds of others will be rather droll; but I’ll be interested to know how you’ll be telling the sequel and end of your little adventure.’ As I spoke, I tugged my bell-pull with all my might; this time, my action was quicker than his words. He was just beginning to stammer something when I heard Victoire come running in, calling out to the other servants she’d been keeping in her room, as I had instructed. Then, raising my voice and in my most regal tones, I proclaimed: ‘Leave this room, Monsieur, and never have the audacity to appear in my sight again!’ Thereupon, all my servants swarmed in.
Poor Prévan lost his head and mistaking what was just a bit of fun for an ambush, drew his sword but immediately regretted it, for my footman, a tough and plucky young man, seized him round the body and flung him down on the floor. I confess I was petrified. I called to my servants to stop and ordered them to let him go, making sure he left the premises at once. They obeyed but not without a great deal of loud and angry muttering: they were furious that their virtuous mistress had been subjected to such disrespect. They all escorted the hapless chevalier to the door with a great deal of noise and commotion, as I’d hoped. Only Victoire stayed behind to help me tidy up my bed.
My servants now came back, extremely agitated, and still in a state of shock I asked them how it was that, most luckily for me, they were still up; Victoire explained that she had had two of her women friends to supper and they had all gone on to continue the evening in her room; in fact, she told me precisely what we’d both arranged together. I thanked them all and told them they could go but sent one of them to fetch my doctor straight away. It seemed to me that I was justified in feeling apprehensive over the effect of my appalling experience and this was guaranteed to spread the news and ensure complete notoriety for the incident.
The doctor came, commiserated with me, and merely prescribed rest. I also told Victoire to go out early that morning and gossip with all the neighbours.
All this was so successful that before noon, as soon as my door was open to receive visitors, my pious neighbour was already at my bedside to discover the truth and the lurid details of this adventure. I found myself obliged to join with her for a solid hour in expressing horror at the depravity of our times. A moment later I received a note from the Maréchale which I’m enclosing. And finally, before five o’clock, to my amazement, who should call but Monsieur ——, Prévan’s commanding officer, who came, he said, to apologize for such extreme disrespect on the part of his officers. He’d only heard about it at dinner at the Maréchale’s and on the spot had issued an order for Prévan to place himself under arrest, in gaol. I pleaded for him but in vain. So I thought that as an accomplice it was up to me to do my bit as well and at least observe house arrest: I gave out that I was indisposed and not at home to anyone.
And my solitary state is the explanation of this long letter. I’ll be writing to Madame de Volanges as well, she’ll certainly read it out to all and sundry and you’ll be able to hear the official version which you have to pass on.
I forgot to tell you that Belleroche is livid and mad keen to call Prévan out. Poor boy! Fortunately I’ll have time to set his mind at rest. Meantime I’m going to give mine some rest, too, it’s tired of writing. Goodbye, Vicomte.
86
The Maréchale de —— to the Marquise de Merteuil (note enclosed with letter 85) Paris, 25 September 17—
Gracious Heavens, what is this extraordinary thing I’ve just heard, my dear? Is it possible for young Prévan to have behaved so disgustingly! and towards you, too! Oh, the trials we woman have to bear! But something I shall never forgive myself for is that I feel partly to blame for your inviting such a monster into your house. I can promise you that if what they’ve been telling me about him is true, he’ll never set foot in my house again! And that’s the way every decent woman will treat him if they do what is right.
I’m told that you’re not at all well and I’m greatly concerned about your health. My dear Marquise, please let me know how you are or if you don’t feel well enough to do it yourself, get one of your maids to let me have news of you. Just a brief word to reassure me. I would have come round to see you this morning myself but my doctor absolutely forbids me to interrupt my bath cure and I have to go out to Versailles this afternoon, still on my nephew’s business.
Goodbye, dear Madame. I don’t need to remind you of my deep and everlasting friendship.
87
The Marquise de Merteuil to Madame de Volanges Paris, 26 September 17—
Dear kind friend, I’m writing this letter from my bed: a most disagreeable and quite unforeseeable incident has laid me low with shock and horror. Not that there was anything that I could do about it but it is always so distressing for any respectable woman who tries to preserve the modesty of her sex to become the focus of public attention that I would have done anything to prevent this unfortunate incident. Indeed, I am not yet certain whether I shan’t decide to go down into the country until everything has blown over. Let me tell you what happened.
At the Maréchale de ——’s house I met a Monsieur de Prévan whom you will certainly know by name but with whom I was not otherwise acquainted. But meeting him there, I was, it seems to me, surely entitled to think that he was a man of breeding. He’s quite personable and he seemed to me not without wit. By chance and the boredom of playing lansquenet, I found myself left alone as the only woman with him and the Bishop of ——, as everybody else was playing cards. All three of us talked together until supper was served
. At table, a new play was mentioned and he offered the Maréchale his box for the evening; she accepted and it was agreed that I might have a seat in it. That was for last Monday’s performance at the Comédie-Française. Afterwards the Maréchale came to supper with me so I suggested to Monsieur de Prévan that he might care to accompany her and he came too. Two days later he called on me and we exchanged the usual civilities without anything unusual happening. Next day he called on me in the morning, which did strike me as somewhat impertinent but I thought that instead of showing him how tasteless I found such behaviour by my manner, it might be more appropriate to warn him, politely, that we weren’t on such close terms as he seemed to be assuming. For this purpose, I sent him that same day a very bald and extremely formal invitation to a supper party I gave a couple of days ago. I hardly exchanged more than two or three words with him in the course of the whole evening and on his part he left as soon as the cards were over. You will agree that till then there was nothing less likely to lead to an affair! After the cards, someone suggested a gallimaufry and this took us up to nearly two o’clock. Finally I got to bed.
My maids had been gone a good half an hour at least when I heard a noise in my apartment. Feeling very scared, I peeped through my bed-curtains and saw a man coming through the door leading from my boudoir. I screamed and my nightlight enabled me to recognize this Monsieur de Prévan who with incredible impudence told me not to be alarmed: he was going to explain his strange behaviour and begged me not to make any sound. As he was talking he lit a candle. I was too shocked to utter a word and I think his calm and brazen manner petrified me even more. But before he had said more than two more words, I realized what his strange behaviour meant and as you can imagine my only reply was to tug my bell as hard as I could.
By a most extraordinary piece of good luck, all my household staff had been spending the evening with one of my maids and were still up. As she was making towards my room, my maid heard me speaking in a very agitated voice and immediately called out to the others. You can imagine the commotion and scandal! My servants were quite enraged and for a moment I could see my footman killing Prévan. Though I confess that, at the time, I was very glad to see that I had the upper hand, thinking about it later I should have preferred it had only my maid come to my rescue, as I might have avoided all this dreadful fuss and bother.
But instead, this hullabaloo woke the whole neighbourhood, my servants have been gossiping, and since yesterday it’s been the talk of the town. Monsieur de Prévan is in prison on the orders of his commanding officer, who was civil enough to call on me to offer his apologies, so he said. This prison sentence will only increase the scandal but I could do nothing to make them change their minds. The Town and Court have been signing my visitors’ book and I’ve given orders that I’m not at home to anyone. The few people I’ve seen have told me that everybody thought I was justified and that public feeling against Prévan was running very high. This he most certainly deserves but that doesn’t prevent the whole business from being excessively disagreeable.
What’s worse is that this man certainly has friends and those friends are bound to be malicious: who knows, who can even guess, what terrible things they will try to fabricate to damage my reputation? O Heavens, how dreadful it is to be a young woman! It is not enough for her to guard against gossip, she has even to protect herself against actual slander!
Please write and tell me what you would have done and what you would do now, in my place; in fact, tell me what you think about the whole affair. It’s always been you who’ve given me the most valuable and comforting advice and it’s from you that I’m always most glad to have it. Goodbye, dear, good friend; I don’t need to tell you the deep affection I have for you at all times. My kindest greetings to your delightful daughter.
PART III
88
Cécile Volanges to the Vicomte de Valmont 26 September 17—
I do very much enjoy getting letters from Monsieur the Chevalier Danceny and, like him, I certainly hope for us to be able to meet again without anyone being in a position to stop us, but I’m afraid, Monsieur, that I still don’t dare do what you suggest. In the first place, it’s too risky: it’s true that the key you want me to put on the mantelshelf in place of the other one certainly is quite like it, but they’re still not identical and my Mama really does look very closely and notices everything. In addition, although no one has yet used it since we’ve been here, it would only need for something unexpected to happen and if it comes out, then I’ll be ruined for ever. And then it seems to me too that it would be very wrong; surely making an extra key like that is going rather too far? It’s true that you’ve kindly offered to see to it but in spite of that, if it ever came out I would still be as much to blame and in the wrong because you would have done it for me. Anyway I’ve tried twice to see if I could take it and if it was something else it would be very simple but I don’t quite know why, I started to tremble and I’ve never managed to pluck up courage to do it. So I think we’d better go on the same way as before.
If you are still kind enough to help us as you have been doing up to now you will certainly always manage to find a way to let me have a letter. Even the last one would have been quite all right if you hadn’t unfortunately turned round at that particular moment. I certainly realize that you can’t spend your whole time thinking about it like me but I’d rather be patient and not take so many risks. I’m sure Monsieur Danceny would say the same because every time he wanted to do something that would have worried me he always agreed that we shouldn’t do it.
Together with this letter for you, Monsieur, I’m letting you have one for Monsieur Danceny and your key as well. I am still terribly grateful to you for all your kindness towards me and I do hope you can go on helping me. It’s certainly true that I’m very unhappy and without you I’d be even unhappier but after all, she is my mother and I shall have to go on being patient. And as long as Monsieur Danceny goes on loving me and you don’t abandon me, maybe better times will come.
With my sincerest thanks again, Monsieur, yours very truly and obediently, etc.
89
The Vicomte de Valmont to the Chevalier Danceny From the Château de —–, 26 September 17—
My dear friend, if your affairs are still not progressing as fast as you’d like, please don’t think that I’m entirely to blame. I’ve more than one obstacle to overcome and Madame de Volanges’s watchfulness and strictness are not my only difficulties: your young friend is also providing me with some. Either because she’s scared or ill-disposed, she doesn’t always follow my advice, although I think I know better than she what is required.
I’d hit on a safe, simple, and convenient method to pass on your letters and even, later, to provide you both with better opportunities for meeting, as I know you want to; but I couldn’t succeed in persuading her to adopt it. I’m all the more upset since I can see no other way possible of bringing you both together again; and even for your correspondence, I’m continually apprehensive of compromising all three of us. And as you know, that is a risk which I don’t want to run myself or expose either of you to.
All the same, I would be very sorry if your little girl’s lack of trust were to prevent me from being of help to you; it might perhaps not be a bad idea to write to her about it. You’ll have to see what you wish to do, because it is not enough merely to help one’s friends, one must help them in the way they want. It might also be a way of ascertaining her own feelings towards you because a woman with a will of her own is not as much in love as she proclaims.
It’s not that I suspect your young woman of being flighty; but she is very young; she’s terrified of her mama who, as you’re aware, wants nothing better than to harm you; and it might perhaps be dangerous to leave the girl too long without reminding her of your existence. But please don’t worry unduly about what I’m saying. Basically, I’ve no reason to mistrust her, it’s purely that, as you well know, I’m concerned about you.
I shan’t write at greater length because I’ve a number of affairs on hand for myself. I haven’t made as much progress as you but I am as much in love and that is one consolation; and even if I don’t succeed myself, I shall consider that I haven’t wasted my time if I can manage to be of some assistance to you.
Goodbye, dear boy.
90
Madame de Tourvel to the Vicomte de Valmont 27 September 17—
I am most anxious, Monsieur, that this letter should not make you unhappy or, if it does, at least you may be comforted by the thought of how unhappy I feel writing it. You must by now know me well enough to be quite certain that I have no desire to distress you but you yourself would surely not wish to cast me for ever into despair. So I appeal to you, in the name of the affection and friendship which I promised you and even for the sake of the perhaps stronger but assuredly no more sincere feelings which you have for me, let us stop seeing each other. You must go away, and until that time let us above all avoid those private, all too dangerous, conversations between us in the course of which, by some magical influence, I spend my time hearing things which I shouldn’t be listening to and never succeeding in saying to you the things I wish to say.
Once again, only yesterday when you came up to me in the park, I had certainly no thought in mind but that of telling you what I am now putting in writing. Yet what did I do? Nothing but talk about your love… that love to which I can never respond! Oh, for pity’s sake, please go away!
You need never fear that by not seeing you, my feelings towards you will ever change. How could I succeed in overcoming them when I’ve even lost heart to fight against them? As you see, I am not hiding anything from you; I am more afraid of giving way to my weakness than confessing it. But if my emotions are beyond my control, I can still control my actions and shall continue to do so, even if it cost me my life.
Les Liaisons Dangereuses Page 26