The Princess of Cleves - Page 82/118

"Your friend has a passion very easy to be satisfied," said

the Queen-Dauphin, "and I begin to believe it is not yourself you are

speaking of; I am almost," continued she, "of the opinion of Madam de

Cleves, who maintains that this story cannot be true." "I don't really

believe it can be true," answered Madam de Cleves, who had been silent

hitherto; "and though it were possible to be true, how should it have

been known?

It is very unlikely that a woman, capable of so

extraordinary a resolution, would have the weakness to publish it; and

surely her husband would not have told it neither, or he must be a

husband very unworthy to have been dealt with in so generous a manner."

The Duke de Nemours, who perceived the suspicions Madam de Cleves had

of her husband, was glad to confirm her in them, knowing he was the

most formidable rival he had to overcome. "Jealousy," said he, "and a

curiosity perhaps of knowing more than a wife has thought fit to

discover, may make a husband do a great many imprudent things."

Madam de Cleves was put to the last proof of her power and courage, and

not being able to endure the conversation any longer, she was going to

say she was not well, when by good fortune for her the Duchess of

Valentinois came in, and told the Queen-Dauphin that the King was just

coming; the Queen-Dauphin went into the closet to dress herself, and

the Duke de Nemours came up to Madam de Cleves as she was following

her. "I would give my life, Madam," said he, "to have a moment's

conversation with you; but though I have a world of important things to

say to you, I think nothing is more so, than to entreat you to believe,

that if I have said anything in which the Queen-Dauphin may seem

concerned, I did it for reasons which do not relate to her." Madam de

Cleves pretended not to hear him, and left him without giving him a

look, and went towards the King, who was just come in. As there were

abundance of people there, she trod upon her gown, and made a false

step, which served her as an excuse to go out of a place she had not

the power to stay in, and so pretending to have received some hurt she

went home.

Monsieur de Cleves came to the Louvre, and was surprised not to find

his wife there; they told him of the accident that had befallen her,

and he went immediately home to enquire after her; he found her in bed,

and perceived her hurt was not considerable. When he had been some time

with her, he found her so excessive melancholy that he was surprised at

it; "What ails you, Madam?" says he; "you seem to have some other grief

than that which you complain of." "I feel the most sensible grief I

can ever experience," answered she; "what use have you made of that

extraordinary, or rather foolish confidence which I placed in you? Did

not I deserve to have my secret kept? and though I had not deserved it,

did not your own interest engage you to it? Should your curiosity to

know a name it was not reasonable for me to tell you have obliged you

to make a confidant to assist you in the discovery? Nothing but that

curiosity could have made you guilty of so cruel an indiscretion; the

consequences of it are as bad as they possibly can be. This adventure

is known, and I have been told it by those who are not aware that I am

principally concerned in it."