Any person who should read your letters would think me either unjust or fantastical.
I don't think I deserve that character; but I am of opinion, you above all the rest of mankind would be the readiest to catch at it.
You must be sensible, that in putting me under the necessity of a justification, you oblige me to recall every thing that has passed between us.
You imagined you would gain by the scrutiny: I am inclined to think, I may even stand the test in your opinion; and perhaps it is the only way to discover which of us has a right to complain.
To begin, Sir, from the day of your arrival at this castle. You will acknowledge, I hope, your character authorised me at least to be upon the reserve, and I might, without apprehending the imputation of an excess of prudery, have restricted myself to exact politeness.
You yourself would have behaved to me with deference, and only thought it strange, that a plain woman, so unacquainted with the ways of the world, had not sufficient penetration to appreciate your merit; that would have been certainly the most prudent method, and which I was so much inclined to follow, that I will freely own, when Madame de Rosemonde came to inform me of your arrival, I had occasion to recollect my friendship for her, and hers for you, to conceal my uneasiness at the unwelcome news.
I will freely own, at first you exhibited a behaviour much more favourable to you than what I had conceived: but you must also allow, it lasted but a very short time; and that you soon grew tired of a constraint, for which you did not think yourself sufficiently indemnified by the advantageous idea I had of you.
Then taking advantage of my candour and tranquillity, you did not scruple cherishing sentiments which you could not have the least doubt but would offend me; and whilst you was every day multiplying and aggravating the wrongs you did me, I endeavoured to forget them, and even offered you an opportunity, in some measure, of redressing them.
My requisition was so fair, that you even thought you could not refuse it, but asserting a right from my indulgence, you made use of it to demand a permission, which doubtless I ought not to have granted, and which yet you obtained.
The conditions annexed to it you did not observe; your correspondence was such, that each letter made it a duty to answer you no more.
Even at the very time when your obstinacy obliged me to insist on your going away, that by a blameable condescension I sought the only means which, consistent with duty, was allowed me not to break entirely with you. But an humble sentiment has no value in your eyes.
You despise friendship; and in your mad intoxication, ridiculing misery and shame, you seek nothing but victims and pleasure.
As fickle in your proceedings, as contrary to your own principles in your charges, you forget your promises, or you make a jest of violating them; and after consenting to depart from me, you come back without being recalled, without paying the least regard to my solicitations or my reasons, without even the decency of a notice. You ventured to expose me to a surprise, which, although very simple in itself, might have been interpreted very unfavourably for me by the persons who were present, and, far from endeavouring to dissipate this moment of embarrassment you gave birth to, you carefully sought to augment it.
At table you chose precisely to place yourself beside me.
A slight indisposition obliged me to go out before any of the company; and instead of paying any respect to my solitude, you bring them all to disturb me.
Being returned again into the saloon, if I move, you follow me; if I speak, you always reply to me.
The most indifferent word is a pretence for you to bring on a conversation, which I do not wish to hear, and which often may bring my name in question; for notwithstanding all your address, Sir, I believe others can see as well as me.
Thus, then, reduced to a state of inaction and silence, you nevertheless continue to pursue me.
I cannot lift my eyes without meeting yours.
I am incessantly obliged to turn my looks from you; and by an inconsequence, you fix the eyes of the whole company on me, at a time when I could even wish to hide myself from my own.
Yet you complain of my behaviour, and are astonished at my anxiety to fly from you.
Blame rather my indulgence, and be astonished I did not set out the moment you arrived.
I ought to have done it; perhaps you will yet oblige me to this violent, though necessary measure, if you do not cease your offensive pursuits.
No; I never will forget what I owe to myself, what I owe to the obligations I have taken, which I respect and cherish. Be assured, if I should ever be reduced to the unhappy choice of sacrificing myself or them, I would not hesitate a moment.
Sept. 16, 17—. _____
LETTER LXXIX.
The VISCOUNT DE VALMONT to the MARCHIONESS DE MERTEUIL. _____
I thought to have gone a-hunting this morning, but it is most horrible weather.
I have no book to read but a new romance that would tire a boarding-school girl.
We shall not breakfast these two hours; therefore, notwithstanding my long letter of yesterday, I will still chat with you, and am confident you will not think me tedious, for I will entertain you concerning the very handsome Prevan.
So you know nothing at all about this famous adventure which separated the inseparables.
I would venture to lay a wager, you will recollect it at the first word.
I will give it you, however, since you desire it.
You may remember all Paris was astonished, three women equally handsome, equally possessing the same talents, and having the same pretensions, should remain so intimately connected since the time of their appearance in the world.
At first it was imagined it proceeded from their great timidity; but soon surrounded by a number of gallants, whose homages they shared, they soon began to feel their consequence, by the eagerness and assiduity with which they were followed.
Still their union became the stronger. One would have imagined the triumph of one was also that of the other two; however, every one flattered himself that love would cause a rivalship.
Those fair ones contended for the honour of the apple of discord; and I myself would have been a competitor, if the high reputation the Countess de —— was in at that time would have permitted me to have committed an infidelity before I had obtained the consummation of my desires.
However, our three beauties that same carnival made their choice, as if in concert; and far from exciting any disturbance, it rendered their friendship more interesting by the charms of confidence.
The crowd of unfortunate pretenders coalesced with the envious women, and this scandalous constancy was submitted to public censure.
Some promulgated, that in this society of the inseparables, so called at that time, the fundamental law was, that every thing should be in common, that love even was subservient to the same law.
Others asserted, that the three lovers were not exempt from rivals.
Others went so far as to say, they had only been admitted for decency sake, and had only obtained a sinecure title.
These reports, whether true or false, had not their wished-for effect; the three couple perceived plainly they were undone if they separated at this period, therefore resolved to stem the torrent.
The public, who soon tire of every thing, shortly gave up a fruitless scandal.
Carried away by their natural levity, they were engaged in other pursuits.
Returning again to this, with their usual inconsequence, they changed their criticisms to commendations.
As every thing is here fashionable, the enthusiasm gained ground, and became a perfect rage, when Prevan undertook to verify those prodigies, and to fix the public opinion and his own on them.
He then laid himself out for those models of perfection.
Being easily admitted into their society, from thence he drew a favourable omen; he very well knew, those who lived in a happy state were not so accessible; and soon perceived the so-much-boasted happiness, like that of kings, was more envied than desirable.
He observed among those pretended inseparables, they began to seek for pleasures abroad, they were often absent; from thence he concluded, the ties of love or friendship were already relaxed or broken; that those of self-love and habit still preserved some kind of strength.