You are perfectly right to fall in with her reasons, so honourable and so full of love, which, from your account, are deferring your happiness. For women who don’t always resist, a protracted defence is their sole remaining asset and I should consider it unforgivable in anyone but a child like little Volanges not to know how to steer clear of a danger of which she must be sufficiently forewarned when she admits she’s in love. You men have no conception of virtue and the high price of sacrificing it! But even the least sensible of women must know that, quite apart from the moral lapse, any weakness spells disaster for her and I can’t for the life of me understand how anyone could ever let herself fall into that trap if she’s given it a moment’s thought.
And don’t start trying to argue against that view because it’s the main reason why I feel attracted to you. You’ll save me from the hazards of love and though up to now I’ve managed to defend myself against them quite well without your help, I’m prepared to feel grateful and I shall like you all the better for it, and all the more.
So hereupon, dear Chevalier, I pray God keep you safe in His august and holy care.*
122
Madame de Rosemonde to Madame de Tourvel From the Château de —–, 25 October 17—
I had been hoping, my dear daughter, to be able finally to allay your anxiety but I am distressed to find that on the contrary I shall be adding to it even more. But you must calm yourself: my nephew is in no danger; he cannot even be said to be actually ill. But certainly he is in the throes of some extraordinary inward change. I cannot understand what it is but I left his room with a feeling of sadness, perhaps even of dread, which I am sorry to have to share with you but which I cannot refrain from mentioning. Let me tell you what has been happening: you may rest assured that he is faithful, for were I to live another eighty years I should never forget the impression made on me by his sorrowful face.
So, I called on him this morning. He was writing, surrounded by a host of piled-up papers which seemed to be the subject of his work. He was so busy that I was halfway into the room before he even turned his head to see who had come in. As soon as he caught sight of me, I noticed very plainly that as he stood up he was making an effort to compose his features and perhaps it was that which made me scrutinize him more closely. It is true that his hair was unpowdered and that he was not yet dressed, but I could see his face was pale and drawn and above all his expression was very different: his eyes, previously always so jolly and lively, looked sad and dejected. In fact, between ourselves, I’m glad you weren’t there to see him because he had a very touching look, most likely, I think, to arouse that feeling of tender pity which is one of love’s most dangerous pitfalls.
I was somewhat shocked by all this but I still began the conversation as if I hadn’t noticed anything. First I asked after his health and although he didn’t say he was well, he didn’t state categorically that he was ill either. Then I scolded him for being so unsociable, saying that it almost looked as if he was becoming crotchety; but as I was trying to soften my little rebuke with a touch of humour, he merely replied very emotionally: ‘Yes, that’s one more bad thing I’ve done, but I shall put that right, together with all the others.’ Even more than his words, his look rather warned me not to joke and I hastily added that he was taking what was just a friendly reproach too seriously.
We now started talking again more calmly. After a moment, he mentioned that he might soon be called back to Paris by some business, the most important of his whole life. But as I was afraid I could guess what that business was and afraid too, dear girl, that such a beginning might lead me to make an admission that I was anxious to avoid, I didn’t question him any further and merely replied that more amusement might be good for his health. I added that for this once I wouldn’t plead with him since I loved my friends purely for what they are. On hearing this extremely simple comment, he grasped my hands and said with a vehemence which I cannot convey to you: ‘Yes, love your nephew, aunt, love him well, he respects and reveres you; and love him, as you say, for what he is. Don’t fret about his happiness and don’t disturb the eternal peace he hopes soon to enjoy by having regrets. Just say that you love me and forgive me… Yes, you do forgive me, I know how kind you are. But how can I expect those whom I’ve treated so badly to be equally forgiving?’ And he bowed his head, I think to hide from me how much he was suffering, although his voice was betraying it despite himself.
More strongly moved than I can say, I hurriedly stood up and no doubt noticing how startled I was, he immediately made an effort to pull himself together. ‘I’m sorry, aunt, forgive me,’ he said. ‘I realize I’ve been talking wildly but I can’t help myself. So forget what I’ve said and remember only how much I respect you.’ And he added: ‘I shan’t fail to come and pay my respects to you again before I leave.’ That remark seemed to me to be an indication that my visit had come to an end and so I then left.
But the more I think about it, the less I can work out what he was trying to say. What is this business which is the most important in his whole life? What is he asking me to forgive him for? What can have caused his involuntary emotion while he was talking to me? I’ve been asking myself these questions over and over again without being able to find the answers. I can’t even discover anything connecting them in any way to you but as the eyes of love are more discerning than those of a friend, I didn’t want to leave you unaware of anything that transpired between my nephew and me.
I’ve had to have four shots at this long letter which would have been even longer if I wasn’t feeling so tired. Goodbye, dear girl.
123
Father Anselme to the Vicomte de Valmont Paris, 25 October 17—
My Lord, I have the honour to acknowledge receipt of your letter and in accordance with your wishes, at once proceeded to call on the person concerned yesterday to inform her of the reasons for the step you wish to take in her regard. Although I found her strongly inclined to persist in the wise course of action she had first chosen, when I pointed out that by refusing she might perhaps be placing in jeopardy your gratifying contrition and thereby in a sense impeding the merciful intentions of divine Providence, she agreed to your visit on the one condition that it be your last.* She has asked me to inform you that she will be at home next Thursday, the 28th. If for some reason this day proves unsuitable, will you please be so good as to inform her accordingly, suggesting an alternative. Your letter will be received.
Nevertheless, my Lord, may I venture to invite you not to delay without very cogent reasons, in order that you may be in a position to comply more completely and expeditiously with the praiseworthy intentions of which you spoke. Consider that he who delays accepting the gift of Grace incurs the risk of seeing it withdrawn; that if God’s goodness is infinite, its dispensation is subject to divine justice and a moment may come when a God of mercy can be transformed into an avenging God.
Should you continue to honour me with your trust, I beg you to believe that my pastoral care will be entirely at your disposal as soon as you so wish: however pressing my other occupations, the duties of my holy ministry to which I am particularly devoted will always have precedence; it will be my finest hour to see my efforts, under the blessing of Almighty God, crowned by success. Miserable sinners that we are, we can do nothing by ourselves! But God who is calling you to Him can accomplish all things and we shall both be equally indebted to His goodness, you for your steadfast desire to return to the fold and I as His instrument to lead you thither. It is with His help that I hope soon to persuade you that even in this world, holy religion alone has the power to offer that solid and lasting happiness vainly sought in the blind pursuit of human passions.
I have the honour to be, my Lord, your most respectful, etc.
124
Madame de Tourvel to Madame de Rosemonde Paris, 25 October 17—
Although still utterly bewildered by news which I received yesterday, I shall not forget the satisfaction which it is bound to cause you and I am w
riting to inform you straight away: Monsieur de Valmont has ceased to concern himself either with me or with worldly love and his only wish henceforth is to make amends by a more edifying life for the faults or rather the errors of his youth. I have been informed of this great event by Father Anselme to whom he has turned for the future direction of his conduct, as well as with the request to arrange a meeting with me, the main purpose of which I imagine will be to hand me back my letters which, despite my urgings, he has till now been refusing to return.
Certainly I can only approve this happy transformation and be glad if, as he maintains, I have in some way contributed to it. But why did it fall to me to be the instrument of this change of heart at the cost of destroying the serenity of my life? Could Monsieur de Valmont achieve happiness only through my unhappiness? O dear, kind friend, forgive me this cry of distress! I know that it is not for me to fathom God’s inscrutable decrees but while I have been praying Him endlessly, and always to no avail, to give me strength to overcome my unhappy love, He gives that strength in full measure to the man who was not even asking Him for it and leaves me helpless, at the mercy of my frailty.
But we must stifle these sinful complaints. Do I not know that on his return the prodigal son received more favours from his father than the one who had never gone away? Who are we to call God to account? He is answerable to us for nothing. Even if it were possible for us to claim some rights in His eyes, what rights could I claim? Am I to be proud of my virtue when I in fact owe it entirely to Valmont? He saved me, yet I presume to complain because I’m having to suffer. No, I must not complain! If the price of his happiness is my own suffering, I shall accept it gladly. No doubt it was time for him to return to the bosom of the Father of us all. The God who had shaped him must surely hold His handiwork dear. He had not created that charming being in order to turn him into a reprobate. It is I who must suffer the penalty for my foolhardiness. Shouldn’t I have realized that, since it was forbidden to love him, I ought not to have allowed myself to see him?
My fault or my misfortune is to have failed for too long to face this truth. You are witness, dear, kind friend, that as soon as I recognized that this sacrifice had to be made, I accepted it; but to fill my cup of bitterness, one thing was lacking: that Monsieur de Valmont was not sharing it. Shall I confess that it is this which is now tormenting me most? Ah, what insufferable pride to allay our own sufferings by the thought of those we’re inflicting on others! But I shall crush that rebellious heart, I shall teach it to live with humiliation without end!
This is the prime reason for my finally agreeing to receive Monsieur de Valmont next Thursday. It will hurt me, I shall hear him tell me that I now mean nothing to him, that the pale, fleeting impression I made on him has completely evaporated! I shall see him looking at me impassively while I shall have to lower my eyes for fear of revealing my own feelings. How many times has he refused to return my letters, despite my repeated requests! And now he doesn’t care—I’ll be getting them back because they’re useless, of no further interest. As I take them back, full of shame, my hands will tremble and his will be calm and steady! And as I see him leaving, leaving for ever, I shall follow him with my eyes but he will not turn round to look at me!
This was the humiliating fate reserved for me! Oh, let me at least use it to achieve a full realization of my weakness. He’s no longer interested in keeping my letters but I shall treasure them. I shall set myself the shameful task of rereading them every day until my tears have blotted out every last trace on the paper; his letters I shall burn because they’re infected with the deadly poison that has corrupted my soul. Oh, what is this love if it makes us pine even for the dangers to which it exposes us? And above all if we are still afraid of feeling it even after we’ve ceased to arouse it? We must cast aside this fatal passion which gives us only the choice between unhappiness and shame. If we can’t be virtuous, at least let us remain prudent.
How far away Thursday still seems! Why can’t I perform my painful sacrifice at once and forget both its cause and its object here and now! This visit is preying on my mind; I’m sorry that I agreed to it. After all, why does he need to see me again? What do we mean to each other now? If he has wronged me, I forgive him. I even appreciate his wish to make amends and I commend him for it. I’ll go even further; I’ll imitate him and since I’ve been led astray by the same errors, his example will bring me back to the path of duty. But since he’s intending to have nothing more to do with me, why is his first action to come and see me? Isn’t the most urgent thing for both of us to forget each other? Oh, that’s surely the case and from now on that will be my only concern.
Dear, honourable friend, if you will let me, I should like to start on that hard task in your house. If I need help or even perhaps comfort, I want to receive them only from your hands. You are the only person capable of understanding me, of speaking to me heart to heart. My whole existence will centre round your precious friendship. I shall put myself entirely in your hands to do anything you care to propose. I shall owe you my peace of mind, my happiness, and my honour and the fruit of your many acts of kindness will be to have at last made me worthy of them.
I am afraid this is a very disjointed letter, at least I assume it must be from the bewildered state I’ve been in while writing it. If it happens to contain any expressions of my feelings which might make me blush, you must hide them under the kindly veil of your friendship on which I so much depend. I shall certainly never wish to conceal any of the emotions of my own heart from you.
Goodbye. Once again, let me tell you of my deep respect for you; I hope to announce the date of my arrival in a few days’ time.
PART IV
125
The Vicomte de Valmont to the Marquise de Merteuil Paris, 29 October 17—
Well, fair lady, take a look now at that haughty woman who was rash enough to imagine she could resist me! There she is: I had her yesterday; I’ve conquered her, she’s mine, completely mine, she has granted me everything I want …
I’m still too overcome by my good fortune to be able to appreciate it; but I am amazed by the strange charm which I felt. Could it be that a woman’s virtue makes her more rewarding to have at the very moment when she’s losing it? No, that’s puerile nonsense, just another old wives’ tale. Don’t we almost always meet a more or less faked resistance the first time we have any woman? And haven’t I felt the charm I mentioned with other women? Yet it’s not the charm of love either, because after all, if I did experience with that astonishing woman a few moments of weakness with some apparent similarity to that anaemic passion, I was always able to overcome them and be true to my principles. Even if during yesterday’s events I was, as I believe, carried away rather further than I’d anticipated and for a moment shared the ecstasy and turmoil which I’d aroused, that passing illusion would have evaporated by now. Yet that same charm still lingers on and I confess I should find it rather agreeable to go on enjoying it if it didn’t make me feel rather uneasy. Am I going to be overpowered at my age, by an involuntary and unfamiliar emotion, like some schoolboy? Certainly not! I must first of all fight it and analyse it more closely.*
And in any case, I have perhaps already got some dim notion of the reason! At any rate, I like to think so and it would be nice if it’s true.
Well, amongst the host of women with whom I’ve performed the role and function of lover, up till now I’d never had one who wasn’t at least as keen to give herself to me as I was to persuade her to do so; I’d even got into the habit of describing as prudish those who’d only go half-way, as opposed to so many others whose resistance is just provocation and nothing but a poor attempt to cover up the fact that it was they who made the first moves.
Here, on the contrary, was a woman with an initial prejudice against me, later reinforced by the advice and information of a poisonous but perspicacious woman; with an extremely timid nature which strengthened her clear-sighted sense of modesty; a love of virtue based on religion and
which had already staunchly survived two years of marriage; finally, as a result of these varying motives, she was deploying a series of most impressive stratagems, all directed towards one goal: evading my pursuit.
So, unlike my previous adventures, this isn’t just a more or less expedient capitulation, something to enjoy rather than brag about, it’s a crushing victory achieved by a hard-fought campaign and clinched by clever manœuvres. So it’s not surprising that my success, due entirely to my own efforts, should be all the more gratifying and that my extra pleasure at my conquest, which I can still feel, is the sweet taste of a famous victory. I find this thought particularly attractive since it saves me from the humiliating feeling that I might somehow be dependent on the very slave whom I’ve just subjugated; or that my great happiness lies anywhere but in myself; or that my ability to extract enjoyment out of it is restricted to one particular woman to the exclusion of any other.
At this important juncture, I intend to let my conduct be guided by these sensible conclusions and you may be sure that I shall not allow myself to be so constricted by these new bonds as to be prevented from breaking free, effortlessly, whenever I see fit. But here I am, talking of breaking free and you still don’t know how I’ve come to be in a position to do so. So read on and discover the perils facing a chaste and reasonable woman when she tries to save a wild and foolish man. I kept such careful note of all I said and of her replies that I hope to give you a meticulous verbatim account of both which I’m sure you’ll enjoy hearing.*
Les Liaisons Dangereuses Page 36