The Princess of Cleves - Page 68/118

As for the Viscount de Chartres, his credit was entirely ruined with

her; and whether the Cardinal of Loraine had already insinuated himself

so far into her esteem as to govern her, or whether the accident of

this letter, which made it appear that the Viscount had deceived her,

enabled her to discover the other tricks he had played her, it is

certain he could never after entirely reconcile himself to her; their

correspondence was broke off, and at length she ruined him by means of

the conspiracy of Amboise, in which he was involved.

After the letter was sent to the Queen-Dauphin, Monsieur de Cleves and

Monsieur de Nemours went away; Madam de Cleves continued alone, and

being no longer supported by the joy which the presence of what one

loves gives one, she seemed like one newly waked from a dream; she

beheld, with astonishment, the difference between the condition she was

in the night before, and that she was in at this time: she called to

mind, how cold and sullen she was to the Duke de Nemours, while she

thought Madam de Themines's letter was addressed to him, and how calm

and sweet a situation of mind succeeded that uneasiness, as soon as he

was satisfied he was not concerned in that letter; when she reflected,

that she reproached herself as guilty for having given him the

foregoing day only some marks of sensibility, which mere compassion

might have produced, and that by her peevish humour this morning, she

had expressed such a jealousy as was a certain proof of passion, she

thought she was not herself; when she reflected further, that the Duke

de Nemours saw plainly that she knew he was in love with her, and that,

notwithstanding her knowing it, she did not use him the worse for it,

even in her husband's presence; but that, on the contrary, she had

never behaved so favourably to him; when she considered, she was the

cause of Monsieur de Cleves's sending for him, and that she had just

passed an afternoon in private with him; when she considered all this,

she found, there was something within her that held intelligence with

the Duke de Nemours, and that she deceived a husband who least deserved

it; and she was ashamed to appear so little worthy of esteem, even in

the eyes of her lover; but what she was able to support less than all

the rest was, the remembrance of the condition in which she spent the

last night, and the pricking griefs she felt from a suspicion that the

Duke de Nemours was in love with another, and that she was deceived by

him.