Two of them started some small difficulties, but nothing was to be refused after such a night.
He made his appointments at an hour's distance from each other, to give him the time necessary for the maturing his scheme.
After these preparations, he gave notice to the other conspirators, and they all impatiently expected their victims.
The first being arrived, Prevan alone received her, and with a seeming eagerness led her to the sanctuary, of which she imagined herself the goddess; then retiring on some slight pretence, was immediately replaced by the insulted lover.
You may guess the confusion. A woman who was not accustomed to adventures of this sort, rendered the triumph very easy.
Every reproach that was omitted, was looked on as a favour; and the fugitive slave, again delivered to her first master, thought herself happy in the hope of pardon on resuming her chains.
The treaty of peace was ratified in a more solitary place; and the void scene was alternately replaced by the other actors in pretty much the same manner, but with the same finale.
Still each of the women thought herself sola in this play.
Their astonishment is not to be described, when, called to supper, the three couple reunited: but their confusion was at the summit, when Prevan made his appearance, and had the barbarity to make apologies to the ladies, which, by disclosing their secrets, convinced them fully how much they had been tricked.
They sat down, however, to table, and recovering from their confusion, the men gave themselves up to mirth, and the women yielded.
It is true, their hearts were all full of rancour; but yet the conversation was nevertheless amorous; gaiety kindled desire, which brought additional charms; and this astonishing revel lasted till morning.
At parting, the women had reason to think themselves forgiven: but the men, who preserved their resentment, entirely broke off the connection the next day; and not satisfied with having abandoned their fickle ladies, in revenge, published the adventure.
Since, one has been shut up in a convent, and the other two are exiled to their estates in the country.
Thus you have heard Prevan's history.
And now I leave you to determine whether you will add to his fame, and be yoked to his triumphal chariot Your letter has made me really uneasy; and I wait with the utmost impatience a more explicit and prudent answer to my last.
Adieu, my lovely friend! Be diffident of whimsical or pleasing ideas, which you are rather apt to be readily seduced by.
Remember, that in the course you run, wit alone is not sufficient: that one single imprudent step becomes an irremediable evil: and permit prudent friendship to sometimes guide your pleasures.
Adieu!
I love you notwithstanding, as much as if you was rational.
Sept. 18, 17—. _____
LETTER LXXX.
CHEVALIER DANCENY to CECILIA VOLANGES. _____
Cecilia, my dear Cecilia! when shall we see each other again?
How shall I live without you?
Where shall I find strength or resolution?
No, never, never, shall I be able to bear this cruel absence.
Each day adds to my misery, without the least prospect of its having an end.
Valmont, who had promised me assistance and consolation; Valmont neglects, and, perhaps, forgets me.
He is with his love, and no longer acquainted with the sufferings of absence.
He has not wrote to me, although he forwarded me the last letter; and yet it is on him I depend to know when and by what means I shall have the happiness to see you.
He, then, can say nothing.
You even do not mention a syllable about it.
Surely it cannot be, that you no longer wish for it.
Ah, my Cecilia! I am very unhappy.
I love you more than ever: but this passion, which was the delight of my life, is now become my torment.
No, I will no longer live thus. I must see you, if it was but for a moment.
When I rise, I say to myself I shall see her no more.
Going to bed, I say, I have not seen her: and notwithstanding the length of the days, not a moment of happiness for me.
All is grief, all is despair; and all those miseries arrive from whence I expected all my joys.
You will have an idea of my situation, if you add to all this, my uneasiness on your account.
I am incessantly thinking of you; and ever with grief.
If I see you unhappy and afflicted, I bear a part in your misfortunes; if I see you in tranquillity and consoled, my griefs are redoubled.
Everywhere and in every circumstance am I miserable.
Ah! it was not thus when you were here; every thing was then delight: the certainty of seeing you made absence supportable.
You knew how I employed my time.
If I fulfilled any duties, they rendered me more worthy of you; if I cultivated any science, it was in hopes to be more pleasing to you, whenever the distractions of the world drew me from you.
At the opera, I sought to discover what would please you. A concert recalled to my mind your talents, and our pleasing occupations in company.
In my walks, I eagerly sought the most slight resemblance of you.
I compared you to all wherever you had the advantage.
Every moment of the day was distinguished by a new homage, and each evening laid the tribute at your feet.