lieved nobody could acquit himself better of that charge, nor that any lady would do France greater honour than madam de Cleves. Monsieur de Cleves received the honour the king had done him by this choice with the respect he ought, and he considered it also as what would take his wife from court, without leaving room to suspect any change in her conduct; but the embarrassment he was under required a speedier remedy than that journey, which was to be deferred a great while, could afford; he immediately wrote to madam de Cleves to acquaint her with what the king had told him; and gave her to understand he absolutely expected she should return to Paris. She returned according to his orders, and when they met, they found one another overwhelmed with melancholy.
Monsieur de Cleves spoke to her, as a man of the greatest honour in the world, and the best deserving the confidence she had reposed in him: I am not alarmed as to your conduct, said he, you have more strength and virtue than you imagine; I am not alarmed with fears of what may happen hereafter; what troubles me is that I see you have those sentiments for another which you want for me.—I do not know what to answer you, said she, I die with shame when I speak of this subject; spare me, I conjure you, such cruel conversations; regulate my conduct, and never let me see any body; this is all I desire of you; but take it not ill of me, if I speak no more of a thing which makes me appear so little worthy of you, and which I think so unbecoming me.—You are in the right, madam, replied he, I abuse your goodness and your confidence in me; but have some compassion also on the condition you have brought me to; and think that whatever you have told me, you conceal from me a name, which creates in me a curiosity I cannot live without satisfying; and yet I ask you not to satisfy it; I cannot, however, forbear telling you, that I believe the man I am to envy is the mareschal de St. André, the duke de Nemours,
