If he persists, what was granted to love must be given to fear; her arms are open, while her heart is shut; her prudence should untie with dexterity those same bonds you would have broken.
She is without resource, at the mercy of her enemy, if he is incapable of generosity, which is seldom to be met with in him; for if he is sometimes applauded for possessing it, he is never blamed for wanting it.
You will not, doubtless, deny those self-evident propositions.
If, however, you have seen me disposing of opinions and events; subjecting those formidable men to my whims and fancies; taking from the one the will, and from the other the power, of annoying me. If I have discovered the secret, according to my roving taste, to detach the one, and reject the other, those dethroned tyrants becoming my slaves; if in the midst of those frequent revolutions, my reputation has been still preserved unsullied; should you not from thence have concluded, that, born to revenge my sex and command yours, I found out means unknown to any that went before me.
Ah, keep your advice and your fears for those infatuated women, who call themselves sentimental; whose exalted imaginations would make one believe, that Nature had placed their senses in their heads; who, having never reflected, blend incessantly the lover with love; who, possessed with that ridiculous illusion, believe that he alone with whom they have sought pleasure is the sole trustee of it, and, true to enthusiasm, have the same respect and faith for the priest that is due to the Divinity only.
Reserve your fears for those who, more vain than prudent, do not know when to consent or break off.
But tremble for those active, yet idle women, whom you call sentimental, on whom love so easily and powerfully takes possession; who feel the necessity of being taken up with it, even when they don't enjoy it; and, giving themselves up without reserve to the fermentation of their ideas, bring forth those soft but dangerous letters, and do not dread confiding in the object that causes them these proofs of their weakness; imprudent creatures! who in their actual lover cannot see their future enemy.
But what have I to do in common with those inconsiderate women?
When have you seen me depart from the rules I have laid down to myself, and abandon my own principles?
I say, my own principles, and I speak it with energy, for they are not like those of other women, dealt out by chance, received without scrutiny, and followed through custom; they are the proofs of my profound reflections; I have given them existence, and I can call them my own work.
Introduced into the world whilst yet a girl, I was devoted by my situation to silence and inaction; this time I made use of for reflection and observation.
Looked upon as thoughtless and heedless, paying little attention to the discourses that were held out to me, I carefully laid up those that were meant to be concealed from me.
This useful curiosity served me in the double capacity of instruction and dissimulation.
Being often obliged to hide the objects of my attention from the eyes of those who surrounded me, I endeavoured to guide my own at my will. I then learnt to take up at pleasure that dissipated air which you have so often praised.
Encouraged by those first successes, I endeavoured to regulate in the same manner the different motions of my person.
Did I feel any chagrin, I endeavoured to put on an air of serenity, and even an affected cheerfulness; carried my zeal so far, that I used to put myself to voluntary pain; and tried my temper, by seeming to express a satisfaction; laboured with the same care and trouble to repress the sudden tumult of unexpected joy.
It is thus that I gained that ascendancy over my countenance which has so often astonished you.
I was yet very young and unconcerned, but still reflected. My thoughts were my own, and I was exasperated to have them either surprised or drawn from me against my will.
Provided with such arms, I immediately began to try their utility.
Not satisfied with the closeness of my character, I amused myself with assuming different ones.
Confident of my actions, I studied my words; I regulated the one and the other according to circumstances, and sometimes according to whim.
From that moment I became selfish; and no longer showed any desire, but what I thought useful to me.
This labour had so far fixed my attention on the characters of the physiognomy, and the expression of the countenance, that I acquired the penetrating glance, which experience, however, has taught me not to place an entire confidence in, but which has so seldom deceived me.
I had scarce attained my fifteenth year, when I was mistress of those talents to which the greatest part of our female politicians owe their reputation, and had only attained the first rudiments of the science I was so anxious to acquire.
You may well imagine, that like all other young girls, I wanted to be acquainted with love and pleasure: but never having been in a convent, having no confidant, and being moreover strictly watched by a vigilant mother, I had only vague ideas.
Nature even, which certainly I have had since every reason to be satisfied with, had not yet given me any indication.
I may say, she silently wrought to perfect her work.
My head alone fermented. I did not wish for enjoyment; I wanted knowledge: my strong propensity for instruction suggested the means.
I was sensible, the only man I could apply to on this occasion without danger was my confessor.
As soon as I was determined, I got the better of my bashfulness. I accused myself of a fault I had not committed, and declared I had done all that women do.
Those were the exact words: but when I spoke thus, I really had no idea of what I expressed.
My expectations were neither entirely satisfied, nor altogether disappointed; the dread of discovering myself prevented my information: but the good father made the crime so heinous, that I concluded the pleasure must be excessive; and the desire of tasting it succeeded that of knowing it.
I don't know how far this desire might have carried me; being then totally unexperienced, the first opportunity would have probably ruined me: but fortunately a few days after my mother informed me that I was to be married.
Immediately the certainty of coming to the knowledge of every thing stifled my curiosity, and I came a virgin to Mr. de Merteuil's arms.
I waited with unconcern the period that was to resolve my doubts; and I had occasion for reflection, to assume a little fear and embarrassment.
This first night, which generally fills the mind with so much joy or apprehension, offered me only an opportunity of experience, pleasure, and pain. I observed every thing with the utmost exactitude, and those different sensations furnished matter for reflection.
This kind of study soon began to be pleasing: but faithful to my principles, and knowing, as it were, by instinct, that no one ought to be less in my confidence than my husband, I determined, for no other reason than because I had my feeling, to appear to him impassible.
This affected coldness laid the foundation for that blind confidence which he ever after placed in me: and in consequence of more reflection, I threw in an air of dissipation over my behaviour, to which my youth gave a sanction; and I never appeared more childish than when I praised him most profusely.
Yet, I must own, at first I suffered myself to be hurried away by the bustle of the world, and gave myself up entirely to its most trifling dissipations.
After a few months M. de Merteuil having brought me to his dreary country house, to avoid the dulness of a rural life, I again resumed my studies; and being surrounded by people whose inferiority sheltered me from suspicion, I gave myself a loose in order to improve my experience.
It was then I was ascertained that love, which is represented as the first cause of all our pleasure, is at most but the pretence.
M. de Merteuil's sickness interrupted those pleasing occupations.
I was obliged to accompany him to town, where he went for advice.
He died a short time after, as you know; and though, to take all in all, I had no reason to complain of him, nevertheless I was very sensibly affected with the liberty my widowhood gave me, which had so pleasing a prospect.
My mother imagined that I would go into a convent, or would go back to live with her: I refused both one and the other: the only sacrifice I made to decency was to return to the country, where I had yet some observations to make.
I strengthened them by reading, but don't imagine that it was all of that kind you suppose: I studied my morals in romances, my opinions amongst the philosophers, and even sought amongst our most severe moralists, what was required of us.—Thus I was ascertained of what one might do, how one ought to think, and the character one should assume.
Thus fixed on those three objects, the last only offered some difficulties in the execution: I hoped to conquer them; I ruminated on the means.
I began to be disgusted with my rustic pleasures; they were not sufficiently variegated for my active mind, and felt the necessity of coquetry to reconcile me to love; not really to be sensible of it, but to feign it, and inspire it in others.
In vain I have been told, and had read, that this passion was not to be feigned.
I saw clearly, that to acquire it, it was sufficient to blend the spirit of an author with the talent of a comedian.