Take time, then, to read my letter.
It will not dissipate you from your enjoyments; on the contrary, its object is to give you your choice.
If you had opened your mind confidentially to me; if you had told me the part of your secrets you left me to guess at, I should with my zeal, and less awkwardness, have smoothed the path of your progression.
But let us set out from this point.
Whatever resolution you take would, at worst, be the summit of good fortune to any one else.
You have a rendezvous for to-night: have you not?
With a charming woman, whom you adore?
For at your age, where is the woman one does not adore for, at least, the first eight days?
The field of action should also add greatly to your enjoyment—A delicious little villa, which was taken for you only, must embellish voluptuousness with the charms of mysteriousness and liberty.
All is agreed on: you are expected; and you are inflamed with desire to be there!
All this we both know, though you told me nothing of it.
Now I will tell you what you do not know; but you must be told.
Since my return to Paris, I have been taken up with contriving the means of an interview between you and Mademoiselle de Volanges: I promised it; and when I last mentioned it to you, I had reason to expect from your answer, I may say, from your transports, I was exerting myself in your happiness.
I could not succeed alone in this difficult undertaking: but after having settled every thing, I left the rest with your young mistress.
She found resources in her affection, resources which escaped my experience; after all, to your great misfortune she has succeeded.
She told me this evening, for these two days past all obstacles are removed, and your happiness depends on yourself alone.
She flattered herself, also, for those two days, to have been able to send you this news herself, and notwithstanding her mama's absence you would have been admitted: but you never once showed yourself! and I must farther tell you, whether from reason or capriciousness, the little thing did not seem pleased at your want of assiduity.
At last she found means to see me, and made me promise to deliver you the enclosed letter as soon as possible.
From the eagerness she expressed, I would venture to lay a wager she gives you an assignation this night; however, I promised her, upon honour and friendship, you should have the tender summons in the course of the day, and neither can or will break my word.
Now, young gentleman, how will you behave in this business?
Placed between coquetry and love, pleasure and happiness, which will you choose?
If I was writing to the Danceny of three months ago, or even the Danceny of a week past, certain of the emotions of his heart, I should be certain of his proceedings: but the Danceny of the day, carried away by women, hunting after intrigue, and, according to custom, a little profligate, will he prefer a timorous young girl, who has nothing but beauty innocence, and love, to the allurements of a common intriguer?
For my part, my dear friend, I think, even in your new system, which, I confess, I am not much averse to, circumstances would decide the preference to the lover.
First, it is an additional conquest, then the novelty is attracting, and the fear of losing the fruits of your addresses, by neglecting to gather them; for to take it in this point of view, it would really be an opportunity missed, which is not always to be regained, especially in a first weakness: often in this case, a moment of ill humour, a jealous suspicion, even less, may prevent the finest conquest.
Sinking virtue will sometimes grasp at a twig; and once escaped, will be on its guard, and not easily surprised.
On the other hand, you hazard nothing; not even a rupture; at most, a little quarrel: then your purchase with a little trouble the pleasure of a reconciliation; for what other resource has a woman you have already enjoyed but compliance?
What would she get by severity?
The privation of pleasure, without profit, for her glory.
If, as I suppose, you make love your choice, which appears to me, also, that of reason, I think it would be more prudent not to send any apology for the disappointment of the rendezvous; leave her in expectancy; for if you venture to give a reason, she will, perhaps, be tempted to dive into the truth.
Women are curious and obstinate.
All may be discovered: I myself, you see, am now an example of this truth.
But if you let her remain in hope, which will be supported by vanity, it will not be lost until a long time after the proper hour for information is over; then to-morrow you will have time to choose the insurmountable obstacle that detained you: you may have been sick, dead if necessary, or any thing else that has almost made you frantic, and all will be made up.
But which ever side you incline to, I only beg you will inform me; and as I am totally unconcerned, I will always think you have done right.
Adieu, my dear friend!
All I have to add is, I regret M. de Tourvel. I am in a state of desperation at being separated from her; and I would lay down one half my life, to devote the other to her.
Ah! believe me, there is no felicity but in love.
Paris, Dec. 5, 17—. _____
LETTER CLVI.
CECILIA VOLANGES to the CHEVALIER DANCENY. (Annexed to the former.) _____
How happens it, my dear friend, I no longer see you; although I never cease wishing for it?
Your inclinations then, are no longer like mine!
Ah, it is now I am truly sorrowful!
More so, than when we were totally separate.
The affliction I was used to receive from others, now proceeds from you, which is more insupportable.
For some days past, mama is never at home, and you know it—I flattered myself you would have taken the opportunity; but you do not at all think of me—I am very unhappy—How often have you told me, I did not love as much as you did—I was certain it was otherwise, and am now convinced.
Had you called, you might have seen me; for I am not like you; I think of nothing but how to contrive to see you—You deserve I should not tell you all I have done: but I love you so much, and have so strong a desire to see you, I can't help telling you, and then I shall see if you really love me.
I have secured the porter, and he has promised every time you come no one shall see you; and we may confide in him, for he is a very honest man.
There is then no other difficulty to prevent any one in the house seeing you, and that will be very easy to do; it is only to come at night; then there will be no danger at all—for since mama goes out every day, she always goes to bed at eleven; so that we shall have a great deal of time.
The porter told me when you had a mind to come this way, instead of knocking at the door, you need only tap at the window, and he would open the door directly, and then you can readily find the back-stairs—As you will not have any light, I will leave my chamber door open, which will give you some little.
You must take great care not to make any noise, particularly passing by mama's little door.