The Duke in the beginning of her mourning durst pay her no otherrespects but such as decency required; he knew Madam de Cleves enoughto be sensible that great importunities and eagerness would bedisagreeable to her; but what he learned afterwards plainly convincedhim that he ought to observe the same conduct a great while longer.
A servant of the Duke's informed him that Monsieur de Cleves'sgentleman, who was his intimate friend, had told him, in the excess ofhis grief for the loss of his master, that Monsieur de Nemours'sjourney to Colomiers was the occasion of his death. The Duke wasextremely surprised to hear this; but after having reflected upon it,he guessed the truth in part, and rightly judged what Madam de Cleves'ssentiments would be at first, and what a distance it would throw himfrom her, if she thought her husband's illness was occasioned by hisjealousy; he was of opinion that he ought not so much as to put her inmind of his name very soon, and he abided by that conduct, howeversevere it appeared to him.
He took a journey to Paris, nor could he forbear calling at her houseto enquire how she did. He was told, that she saw nobody, and that shehad even given strict orders that they should not trouble her with anaccount of any that might come to see her; those very strict orders,perhaps, were given with a view to the Duke, and to prevent her hearinghim spoken of; but he was too much in love to be able to live soabsolutely deprived of the sight of Madam de Cleves; he resolved tofind the means, let the difficulty be what it would, to get out of acondition which was so insupportable to him.
The grief of that Princess exceeded the bounds of reason a husbanddying, and dying on her account, and with so much tenderness for her,never went out of her mind: she continually revolved in her thoughtswhat she owed him, and she condemned herself for not having had apassion for him, as if that had been a thing which depended on herself;she found no consolation but in the thought that she lamented him as hedeserved to be lamented, and that she would do nothing during theremainder of her life, but what he would have been glad she should havedone, had he lived.
She had often been thinking how he came to know, that the Duke deNemours had been at Colomiers; she could not suspect that the Dukehimself had told it; though it was indifferent to her whether he had orno, she thought herself so perfectly cured of the passion she had hadfor him; and yet she was grieved at the heart to think that he was thecause of her husband's death; and she remembered with pain the fearMonsieur de Cleves expressed, when dying, lest she should marry theDuke; but all these griefs were swallowed up in that for the loss ofher husband, and she thought she had no other but that one.
After several months the violence of her grief abated, and she fellinto a languishing kind of melancholy. Madam de Martigues made ajourney to Paris, and constantly visited her during the time she stayedthere: she entertained her with an account of the Court, and whatpassed there; and though Madam de Cleves appeared unconcerned, yetstill she continued talking on that subject in hopes to divert her.
She talked to her of the Viscount, of Monsieur de Guise, and of allothers that were distinguished either in person or merit. "As for theDuke de Nemours," says she, "I don't know if State affairs have nottaken possession of his heart in the room of gallantry; he isabundantly less gay than he used to be, and seems wholly to decline thecompany of women; he often makes journeys to Paris, and I believe he isthere now." The Duke de Nemours's name surprised Madam de Cleves, andmade her blush; she changed the discourse, nor did Madam de Martiguestake notice of her concern.
The next day Madam de Cleves, who employed herself in things suitableto the condition she was in, went to a man's house in herneighbourhood, that was famous for working silk after a particularmanner, and she designed to bespeak some pieces for herself; havingseen several kinds of his work, she spied a chamber door, where shethought there were more, and desired it might be opened: the masteranswered, he had not the key, and that the room was taken by a man, whocame there sometimes in the daytime to draw the plans and prospects ofthe fine houses and gardens that were to be seen from his windows; "heis one of the handsomest men I ever saw," added he, "and does not lookmuch like one that works for his living; whenever he comes here, Iobserve he always looks towards the gardens and houses, but I never seehim work."
Madam de Cleves listened to this story very attentively, and what Madamde Martigues had told her of Monsieur de Nemours's coming now and thento Paris, she applied in her fancy to that handsome man, who came to aplace so near her house; and this gave her an idea of Monsieur deNemours endeavouring to see her; which raised a disorder in her, ofwhich she did not know the cause: she went towards the windows to seewhere they looked into, and she found they overlooked all her gardens,and directly faced her apartment: and when she was in her own room, shecould easily see that very window where she was told the man came totake his prospects. The thought that it was the Duke de Nemours,entirely changed the situation of her mind; she no longer found herselfin that pensive tranquillity which she had begun to enjoy, her spiritswere ruffled again as with a tempest: at last, not being able to stayat home, she went abroad to take the air in a garden without thesuburbs, where she hoped to be alone; she walked about a great while,and found no likelihood of anyone's being there.
Having crossed a little wilderness she perceived at the end of thewalk, in the most remote part of the garden, a kind of a bower, open onall sides, and went towards it; when she was near, she saw a man lyingon the benches, who seemed sunk into a deep contemplation, and shediscovered it was the Duke de Nemours. Upon this she stopped short: buther attendants made some noise, which roused the Duke out of hismusing: he took no notice who the persons were that disturbed him, butgot up in order to avoid the company that was coming towards him, andmaking a low bow, which hindered him from seeing those he saluted, heturned into another walk.
If he had known whom he avoided, with what eagerness would he havereturned? But he walked down the alley, and Madam de Cleves saw him goout at a back door, where his coach waited for him. What an effect didthis transient view produce in the heart of Madam de Cleves? What aflame rekindled out of the embers of her love, and with what violencedid it burn? She went and sat down in the same place from whichMonsieur de Nemours was newly risen, and seemed perfectly overwhelmed;his image immediately possessed her fancy, and she considered him asthe most amiable person in the world, as one who had long loved herwith a passion full of veneration and sincerity, slighting all for her,paying respect even to her grief, to his own torture, labouring to seeher without a thought of being seen by her, quitting the Court (thoughthe Court's delight) to come and look on the walls where she was shutup, and to pass his melancholy hours in places where he could not hopeto meet her; in a word, a man whose attachment to her alone meritedreturns of love, and for whom she had so strong an inclination, thatshe should have loved him, though she had not been beloved by him; andbesides, one whose quality was suitable to hers: all the obstacles thatcould rise from duty and virtue were now removed, and all the tracethat remained on her mind of their former condition was the passion theDuke de Nemours had for her, and that which she had for him.
All these ideas were new to her; her affliction for the death of herhusband had left her no room for thoughts of this kind, but the sightof Monsieur de Nemours revived them, and they crowded again into hermind; but when she had taken her fill of them, and remembered that thisvery man, whom she considered as a proper match for her, was the sameshe had loved in her husband's lifetime, and was the cause of hisdeath, and that on his death-bed he had expressed a fear of hermarrying him, her severe virtue was so shocked at the imagination, thatshe thought it would be as criminal in her to marry Monsieur de Nemoursnow, as it was to love him before: in short, she abandoned herself tothese reflections so pernicious to her happiness, and fortified herselfin them by the inconveniency which she foresaw would attend such amarriage. After two hours' stay in this place she returned home,convinced that it was indispensably her duty to avoid the sight of theman she loved.
But this conviction, which was the
effect of reason and virtue, did notcarry her heart along with it; her heart was so violently fixed on theDuke de Nemours, that she became even an object of compassion, and waswholly deprived of rest. Never did she pass a night in so uneasy amanner; in the morning, the first thing she did was to see if there wasanybody at the window which looked towards her apartment; she saw thereMonsieur de Nemours, and was so surprised upon it, and withdrew sohastily, as made him judge she knew him; he had often wished to be seenby her, ever since he had found out that method of seeing her, and whenhe had no hopes of obtaining that satisfaction, his way was to go tomuse in the garden where she found him.
Tired at last with so unfortunate and uncertain a condition, heresolved to attempt something to determine his fate: "What should Iwait for?" said he. "I have long known she loves me; she is free; shehas no duty now to plead against me; why should I submit myself to thehardship of seeing her, without being seen by her or speaking to her?Is it possible for love so absolutely to have deprived me of reason andcourage, and to have rendered me so different from what I have been inall my other amours? It was fit I should pay a regard to Madam deCleves's grief; but I do it too long, and I give her leisure toextinguish the inclination she had for me."
After these reflections, he considered what measures he ought to taketo see her; he found he had no longer any reason to conceal his passionfrom the Viscount de Chartres; he resolved to speak to him of it, andto communicate to him his design with regard to his niece.
The Viscount was then at Paris, the town being extremely full, andeverybody busy in preparing equipages and dresses to attend the King ofNavarre, who was to conduct the Queen of Spain: Monsieur de Nemours,went to the Viscount, and made an ingenuous confession to him of all hehad concealed hitherto, except Madam de Cleves's sentiments, which hewould not seem to know.
The Viscount received what he told him with a great deal of pleasure,and assured him, that though he was not acquainted with his sentimentson that subject, he had often thought, since Madam de Cleves had been awidow, that she was the only lady that deserved him. Monsieur deNemours entreated him to give him an opportunity of speaking to her,and learning what disposition she was in.
The Viscount proposed to carry him to her house, but the Duke was ofopinion she would be shocked at it, because as yet she saw nobody; sothat they agreed, it would be better for the Viscount to ask her tocome to him, under some pretence, and for the Duke to come to them by aprivate staircase, that he might not be observed. Accordingly this wasexecuted; Madam de Cleves came, the Viscount went to receive her, andled her into a great closet at the end of his apartment; some timeafter Monsieur de Nemours came in, as by chance: Madam de Cleves wasin great surprise to see him; she blushed and endeavoured to hide it;the Viscount at first spoke of indifferent matters, and then went out,as if he had some orders to give, telling Madam de Cleves he mustdesire her to entertain the Duke in his stead, and that he would returnimmediately.
It is impossible to express the sentiments of Monsieur de Nemours, andMadam de Cleves, when they saw themselves alone, and at liberty tospeak to one another, as they had never been before: they continuedsilent a while; at length, said Monsieur de Nemours, "Can you, Madam,pardon the Viscount for giving me an opportunity of seeing you, andspeaking to you, an opportunity which you have always so cruelly deniedme?" "I ought not to pardon him," replied she, "for having forgot thecondition I am in, and to what he exposes my reputation." Having spokethese words, she would have gone away; but Monsieur de Nemours stoppingher, "Fear not, Madam," said he; "you have nothing to apprehend; nobodyknows I am here; hear me, Madam, hear me, if not out of goodness, yetat least for your own sake, and to free yourself from theextravagancies which a passion I am no longer master of will infalliblyhurry me into." Madam de Cleves now first yielded to the inclinationshe had for the Duke de Nemours, and beholding him with eyes full ofsoftness and charms, "But what can you hope for," says she, "from thecomplaisance you desire of me? You will perhaps repent that you haveobtained it, and I shall certainly repent that I have granted it. Youdeserve a happier fortune than you have hitherto had, or than you canhave for the future, unless you seek it elsewhere." "I, Madam," saidhe, "seek happiness anywhere else? Or is there any happiness for me,but in your love? Though I never spoke of it before, I cannot believe,Madam, that you are not acquainted with my passion, or that you do notknow it to be the greatest and most sincere that ever was; what trialshas it suffered in things you are a stranger to? What trials have youput it to by your rigour?"
"Since you are desirous I should open myself to you," answered Madam deCleves, "I'll comply with your desire, and I'll do it with a sinceritythat is rarely to be met with in persons of my sex: I shall not tellyou that I have not observed your passion for me; perhaps you would notbelieve me if I should tell you so; I confess therefore to you, notonly that I have observed it, but that I have observed it in suchlights as you yourself could wish it might appear to me in." "And ifyou have seen my passion, Madam," said he, "is it possible for you notto have been moved by it? And may I venture to ask, if it has made noimpression on your heart?" "You should have judged of that from myconduct," replied she; "but I should be glad to know what you thoughtof it." "I ought to be in a happier condition," replied he, "toventure to inform you; my fortune would contradict what I should say;all I can tell you, Madam, is that I heartily wished you had notacknowledged to Monsieur de Cleves what you concealed from me, and thatyou had concealed from him what you made appear to me." "How came youto discover," replied she blushing, "that I acknowledged anything toMonsieur de Cleves?" "I learned it from yourself, Madam," replied he;"but that you may the better pardon the boldness I showed in listeningto what you said, remember if I have made an ill use of what I heard,if my hopes rose upon it, or if I was the more encouraged to speak toyou."
Here he began to relate how he had overheard her conversation withMonsieur de Cleves; but she interrupted him before he had finished;"Say no more of it," said she, "I see how you came to be so wellinformed; I suspected you knew the business but too well at theQueen-Dauphin's, who learned this adventure from those you hadentrusted with it."
Upon this Monsieur de Nemours informed her in what manner the thingcame to pass; "No excuses," says she; "I have long forgiven you,without being informed how it was brought about; but since you havelearned from my ownself what I designed to conceal from you all mylife, I will acknowledge to you that you have inspired me withsentiments I was unacquainted with before I saw you, and of which I hadso slender an idea, that they gave me at first a surprise which stilladded to the pain that constantly attends them: I am the less ashamedto make you this confession, because I do it at a time when I may do itwithout a crime, and because you have seen that my conduct has not beengoverned by my affections."
"Can you believe, Madam," said Monsieur de Nemours, falling on hisknees, "but I shall expire at your feet with joy and transport?" "Ihave told you nothing," said she smiling, "but what you knew too wellbefore." "Ah! Madam," said he, "what a difference is there betweenlearning it by chance, and knowing it from yourself, and seeing withalthat you are pleased I know it." "It is true," answered she, "I wouldhave you know it, and I find a pleasure in telling it you; I don't evenknow if I do not tell it you more for my own sake, than for yours; for,after all, this confession will have no consequences, and I shallfollow the austere rules which my duty imposes upon me." "How! Madam;you are not of this opinion," replied Monsieur de Nemours; "you are nolonger under any obligation of duty; you are at liberty; and if Idurst, I should even tell you, that it is in your power to act so, thatyour duty shall one day oblige you to preserve the sentiments you havefor me." "My duty," replied she, "forbids me to think of any man, butof you the last in the world, and for reasons which are unknown toyou." "Those reasons perhaps are not unknown to me," answered he, "butthey are far from being good ones. I believe that Monsieur de Clevesthought me happier than I was, and imagined that you approved of thoseextravagancies which my passion led me i
nto without your approbation.""Let us talk no more of that adventure," said she; "I cannot bear thethought of it, it giving me shame, and the consequences of it have beensuch that it is too melancholy a subject to be spoken of; it is but tootrue that you were the cause of Monsieur de Cleves's death; thesuspicions which your inconsiderate conduct gave him, cost him his lifeas much as if you had taken it away with your own hands: judge what Iought to have done, had you two fought a duel, and he been killed; Iknow very well, it is not the same thing in the eye of the world, butwith me there's no difference, since I know that his death was owing toyou, and that it was on my account." "Ah! Madam," said Monsieur deNemours, "what phantom of duty do you oppose to my happiness? What!Madam, shall a vain and groundless fancy hinder you from making a manhappy, for whom you have an inclination? What, have I had some groundto hope I might pass my life with you? has my fate led me to love themost deserving lady in the world? have I observed in her all that canmake a mistress adorable? Has she had no disliking to me? Have Ifound in her conduct everything which perhaps I could wish for in awife? For in short, Madam, you are perhaps the only person in whomthose two characters have ever concurred to the degree they are in you;those who marry mistresses, by whom they are loved, tremble when theymarry them, and cannot but fear lest they should observe the sameconduct towards others which they observed towards them; but in you,Madam, I can fear nothing, I see nothing in you but matter ofadmiration: have I had a prospect of so much felicity for no other endbut to see it obstructed by you? Ah! Madam, you forget, that you havedistinguished me above other men; or rather, you have not distinguishedme; you have deceived yourself, and I have flattered myself."
"You have not flattered yourself," replied she; "the reasons of my dutywould not perhaps appear so strong to me without that distinction ofwhich you doubt, and it is that which makes me apprehend unfortunateconsequences from your alliance." "I have nothing to answer, Madam,"replied he, "when you tell me you apprehend unfortunate consequences;but I own, that after all you have been pleased to say to me, I did notexpect from you so cruel a reason." "The reason you speak of," repliedMadam de Cleves, "is so little disobliging as to you, that I don't knowhow to tell it you." "Alas! Madam," said he, "how can you fear Ishould flatter myself too much after what you have been saying to me?""I shall continue to speak to you," says she, "with the same sinceritywith which I begun, and I'll lay aside that delicacy and reserve thatmodesty obliges one to in a first conversation, but I conjure you tohear me without interruption.
"I think I owe the affection you have for me, the poor recompsense notto hide from you any of my thoughts, and to let you see them such asthey really are; this in all probability will be the only time I shallallow myself the freedom to discover them to you; and I cannot confesswithout a blush, that the certainty of not being loved by you, as I am,appears to me so dreadful a misfortune, that if I had not invinciblereasons grounded on my duty, I could not resolve to subject myself toit; I know that you are free, that I am so too, and that circumstancesare such, that the public perhaps would have no reason to blame eitheryou or me, should we unite ourselves forever; but do men continue tolove, when under engagements for life? Ought I to expect a miracle inmy favour? And shall I place myself in a condition of seeing certainlythat passion come to an end, in which I should place all my felicity?Monsieur de Cleves was perhaps the only man in the world capable ofcontinuing to love after marriage; it was my ill fate that I was notable to enjoy that happiness, and perhaps his passion had not lastedbut that he found none, in me; but I should not have the same way ofpreserving yours; I even think your constancy is owing to the obstaclesyou have met with; you have met with enough to animate you to conquerthem; and my unguarded actions, or what you learned by chance, gave youhopes enough not to be discouraged." "Ah! Madam," replied Monsieur deNemours, "I cannot keep the silence you enjoined me; you do me too muchinjustice, and make it appear too clearly that you are far from beingprepossessed in my favour." "I confess," answered she, "that mypassions may lead me, but they cannot blind me; nothing can hinder mefrom knowing that you are born with a disposition for gallantry, andhave all the qualities proper to give success; you have already had agreat many amours, and you will have more; I should no longer be sheyou placed your happiness in; I should see you as warm for another asyou had been for me; this would grievously vex me, and I am not sure Ishould not have the torment of jealousy; I have said too much toconceal from you that you have already made me know what jealousy is,and that I suffered such cruel inquietudes the evening the Queen gaveme Madam de Themines's letter, which it was said was addressed to you,that to this moment I retain an idea of it, which makes me believe itis the worst of all ills.
"There is scarce a woman but out of vanity or inclination desires toengage you; there are very few whom you do not please, and my ownexperience would make me believe, that there are none whom it is not inyour power to please; I should think you always in love and beloved,nor should I be often mistaken; and yet in this case I should have noremedy but patience, nay I question if I should dare to complain: alover may be reproached; but can a husband be so, when one has nothingto urge, but that he loves one no longer? But admit I could accustommyself to bear a misfortune of this nature, yet how could I bear thatof imagining I constantly saw Monsieur de Cleves, accusing you of hisdeath, reproaching me with having loved you, with having married you,and showing me the difference betwixt his affection and yours? It isimpossible to over-rule such strong reasons as these; I must continuein the condition I am in, and in the resolution I have taken never toalter it." "Do you believe you have the power to do it, Madam?" criedthe Duke de Nemours. "Do you think your resolution can hold outagainst a man who adores, and who has the happiness to please you? Itis more difficult than you imagine, Madam, to resist a person whopleases and loves one at the same time; you have done it by anausterity of virtue, which is almost without example; but that virtueno longer opposes your inclinations, and I hope you will follow them inspite of yourself." "I know nothing can be more difficult than what Iundertake," replied Madam de Cleves; "I distrust my strength in themidst of my reasons; what I think I owe to the memory of Monsieur deCleves would be a weak consideration, if not supported by the interestof my ease and repose; and the reasons of my repose have need to besupported by those of my duty; but though I distrust myself, I believeI shall never overcome my scruples, nor do I so much as hope toovercome the inclination I have for you; that inclination will make meunhappy, and I will deny myself the sight of you, whatever violence itis to me: I conjure you, by all the power I have over you, to seek nooccasion of seeing me; I am in a condition which makes that criminalwhich might be lawful at another time; decency forbids all commercebetween us." Monsieur de Nemours threw himself at her feet, and gave aloose to all the violent motions with which he was agitated; heexpressed both by his words and tears the liveliest and most tenderpassion that ever heart was touched with; nor was the heart of Madam deCleves insensible; she looked upon him with eyes swelled with tears:"Why was it," cries she, "that I can charge you with Monsieur deCleves's death? Why did not my first acquaintance with you begin sinceI have been at liberty, or why did not I know you before I was engaged?Why does fate separate us by such invincible obstacles?" "There are noobstacles, Madam," replied Monsieur de Nemours; "it is you alone opposemy happiness; you impose on yourself a law which virtue and reason donot require you to obey." "'Tis true," says she, "I sacrifice a greatdeal to a duty which does not subsist but in my imagination havepatience, and expect what time may produce; Monsieur de Cleves is butjust expired, and that mournful object is too near to leave me clearand distinct views; in the meantime enjoy the satisfaction to know youhave gained the heart of a person who would never have loved anyone,had she not seen you: believe the inclination I have for you will lastforever, and that it will be uniform and the same, whatever becomes ofme: Adieu," said she; "this is a conversation I ought to blush for;however, give an account of it to the Viscount; I agree to it, anddesire you
to do it."
With these words she went away, nor could Monsieur de Nemours detainher. In the next room she met with the Viscount, who seeing her underso much concern would not speak to her, but led her to her coachwithout saying a word; he returned to Monsieur de Nemours, who was sofull of joy, grief, admiration, and of all those affections that attenda passion full of hope and fear, that he had not the use of his reason.It was a long time ere the Viscount could get from him an account ofthe conversation at last the Duke related it to him, and Monsieur deChartres, without being in love, no less admired the virtue, wit andmerit of Madam de Cleves, than did Monsieur de Nemours himself; theybegan to examine what issue could reasonably be hoped for in thisaffair; and however fearful the Duke de Nemours was from his love, heagreed with the Viscount, that it was impossible Madam de Cleves shouldcontinue in the resolution she was in; they were of opinionnevertheless that it was necessary to follow her orders, for fear, uponthe public's perceiving the inclination he had for her, she should makedeclarations and enter into engagements with respect to the world, thatshe would afterwards abide by, lest it should be thought she loved himin her husband's lifetime.
Monsieur de Nemours determined to follow the King; it was a journey hecould not well excuse himself from, and so he resolved to go withoutendeavouring to see Madam de Cleves again from the window out of whichhe had sometimes seen her; he begged the Viscount to speak to her; andwhat did he not desire him to say in his behalf? What an infinitenumber of reasons did he furnish him with, to persuade her to conquerher scruples? In short, great part of the night was spent before hethought of going away.
As for Madam de Cleves, she was in no condition to rest; it was a thingso new to her to have broke loose from the restraints she had laid onherself, to have endured the first declarations of love that ever weremade to her, and to have confessed that she herself was in love withhim that made them, all this was so new to her, that she seemed quiteanother person she was surprised at what she had done; she repented ofit; she was glad of it; all her thoughts were full of anxiety andpassion she examined again the reasons of her duty, which obstructedher happiness; she was grieved to find them so strong, and was sorrythat she had made them out so clear to Monsieur de Nemours: though shehad entertained thoughts of marrying him, as soon as she beheld him inthe garden of the suburbs, yet her late conversation with him made amuch greater impression on her mind; at some moments she could notcomprehend how she could be unhappy by marrying him, and she was readyto say in her heart, that her scruples as to what was past, and herfears for the future, were equally groundless: at other times, reasonand her duty prevailed in her thoughts, and violently hurried her intoa resolution not to marry again, and never to see Monsieur de Nemours;but this was a resolution hard to be established in a heart so softenedas hers, and so lately abandoned to the charms of love. At last, togive herself a little ease, she concluded that it was not yet necessaryto do herself the violence of coming to any resolution, and decencyallowed her a considerable time to determine what to do: however sheresolved to continue firm in having no commerce with Monsieur deNemours. The Viscount came to see her, and pleaded his friend's causewith all the wit and application imaginable, but could not make heralter her conduct, or recall the severe orders she had given toMonsieur de Nemours; she told him her design was not to change hercondition that she knew how difficult it was to stand to that design,but that she hoped she should be able to do it; she made him sosensible how far she was affected with the opinion that Monsieur deNemours was the cause of her husband's death, and how much she wasconvinced that it would be contrary to her duty to marry him, that theViscount was afraid it would be very difficult to take away thoseimpressions; he did not, however, tell the Duke what he thought, whenhe gave him an account of his conversation with her, but left him asmuch hope as a man who is loved may reasonably have.
They set out the next day, and went after the King; the Viscount wroteto Madam de Cleves at Monsieur de Nemours's request, and in a secondletter, which soon followed the first, the Duke wrote a line or two inhis own hand; but Madam de Cleves determined not to depart from therules she had prescribed herself, and fearing the accidents that mighthappen from letters, informed the Viscount that she would receive hisletters no more, if he continued to speak of Monsieur de Nemours, anddid it in so peremptory a manner, that the Duke desired him not tomention him.
During the absence of the Court, which was gone to conduct the Queen ofSpain as far as Poitou, Madam de Cleves continued at home; and the moredistant she was from Monsieur de Nemours, and from everything thatcould put her in mind of him, the more she recalled the memory of thePrince of Cleves, which she made it her glory to preserve; the reasonsshe had not to marry the Duke de Nemours appeared strong with respectto her duty, but invincible with respect to her quiet; the opinion shehad, that marriage would put an end to his love, and the torments ofjealousy, which she thought the infallible consequences of marriage,gave her the prospect of a certain unhappiness if she consented to hisdesires; on the other hand, she thought it impossible, if he werepresent, to refuse the most amiable man in the world, the man who lovedher, and whom she loved, and to oppose him in a thing that was neitherinconsistent with virtue nor decency: she thought that nothing butabsence and distance could give her the power to do it; and she foundshe stood in need of them, not only to support her resolution not tomarry, but even to keep her from seeing Monsieur de Nemours; sheresolved therefore to take a long journey, in order to pass away thetime which decency obliged her to spend in retirement; the fine estateshe had near the Pyrenees seemed the most proper place she could makechoice of; she set out a few days before the Court returned, and wroteat parting to the Viscount to conjure him not to think of onceenquiring after her, or of writing to her.
Monsieur de Nemours was as much troubled at this journey as anotherwould have been for the death of his mistress; the thought of beingdeprived so long a time of the sight of Madam de Cleves grieved him tothe soul, especially as it happened at a time when he had latelyenjoyed the pleasure of seeing her, and of seeing her moved by hispassion however he could do nothing but afflict himself, and hisaffliction increased every day. Madam de Cleves, whose spirits had beenso much agitated, was no sooner arrived at her country seat, but shefell desperately ill; the news of it was brought to Court; Monsieur deNemours was inconsolable; his grief proceeded even to despair andextravagance; the Viscount had much a-do to hinder him from discoveringhis passion in public, and as much a-do to keep him from going inperson to know how she did; the relation and friendship between her andthe Viscount served as an excuse for sending frequent messengers; atlast they heard she was out of the extremity of danger she had been in,but continued in a languishing malady that left but little hopes oflife.
The nature of her disease gave her a prospect of death both near, andat a distance, and showed her the things of this life in a verydifferent view from that in which they are seen by people in health;the necessity of dying, to which she saw herself so near, taught her towean herself from the world, and the lingeringness of her distemperbrought her to a habit in it; yet when she was a little recovered, shefound that Monsieur de Nemours was not effaced from her heart; but todefend herself against him, she called to her aid all the reasons whichshe thought she had never to marry him; after a long conflict inherself, she subdued the relics of that passion which had been weakenedby the sentiments her illness had given her; the thoughts of death hadreproached her with the memory of Monsieur de Cleves, and thisremembrance was so agreeable to her duty, that it made deep impressionsin her heart; the passions and engagements of the world appeared to herin the light, in which they appear to persons who have more great andmore distant views. The weakness of her body, which was brought verylow, aided her in preserving these sentiments; but as she knew whatpower opportunities have over the wisest resolutions, she would nothazard the breach of those she had taken, by returning into any placewhere she might see him she loved; she retired, under pretence ofchange of air, into a conv
ent, but without declaring a settledresolution of quitting the Court.
Upon the first news of it, Monsieur de Nemours felt the weight of thisretreat, and saw the importance of it; he presently thought he hadnothing more to hope, but omitted not anything that might oblige her toreturn; he prevailed with the Queen to write; he made the Viscount notonly write, but go to her, but all to no purpose; the Viscount saw her,but she did not tell him she had fixed her resolution and yet hejudged, she would never return to Court; at last Monsieur de Nemourshimself went to her, under pretence of using the waters; she wasextremely grieved and surprised to hear he was come, and sent him wordby a person of merit about her, that she desired him not to take it illif she did not expose herself to the danger of seeing him, and ofdestroying by his presence those sentiments she was obliged topreserve; that she desired he should know, that having found it bothagainst her duty and peace of mind to yield to the inclination she hadto be his, all things else were become so indifferent to her, that shehad renounced them for ever; that she thought only of another life, andhad no sentiment remaining as to this, but the desire of seeing him inthe same dispositions she was in.
Monsieur de Nemours was like to have expired in the presence of thelady who told him this; he begged her a thousand times to return toMadam de Cleves, and to get leave for him to see her; but she told himthe Princess had not only forbidden her to come back with any messagefrom him, but even to report the conversation that should pass betweenthem. At length Monsieur de Nemours was obliged to go back, oppressedwith the heaviest grief a man is capable of, who has lost all hopes ofever seeing again a person, whom he loved not only with the mostviolent, but most natural and sincere passion that ever was; yet stillhe was not utterly discouraged, but used all imaginable methods to makeher alter her resolution at last, after several years, time andabsence abated his grief, and extinguished his passion. Madam de Cleveslived in a manner that left no probability of her ever returning toCourt; she spent one part of the year in that religious house, and theother at her own, but still continued the austerity of retirement, andconstantly employed herself in exercises more holy than the severestconvents can pretend to; and her life, though it was short, leftexamples of inimitable virtues.
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