difficult to take; and when I saw you again I thought it impossible to execute. I was ready a hundred times to break out into tears and complaints; my ill state of health, which still continued, served as a disguise to hide from you the affliction and trouble I was in; afterward I was supported by the pleasure of dissembling with you, as you had done with me; however, it was doing so apparent a violence to myself to tell you, or to write to you that I loved you, that you immediately perceived I had no mind to let you see my affection was altered. You was touched with this, you complained of it. I endeavoured to remove your fears, but it was done in so forced a manner, that you was still more convinced by it I no longer loved you: in short, I did all I intended to do. The fantasticalness of your heart was such, that you advanced towards me in proportion as you saw I retreated from you. I have enjoyed all the pleasure which can arise from revenge. I plainly saw, that you loved me more than you had ever done; and I shewed you I had no longer any love for you. I had even reason to believe that you had entirely abandoned her, for whom you had forsaken me; I had ground too to be satisfied you had never spoken to her concerning me: but neither your discretion in that particular, nor the return of your affection, can make amends for your inconstancy; your heart has been divided between me and another, and you have deceived me; this is sufficient wholly to take from me the pleasure I found in being loved by you, as I thought I deserved to be; and to confirm me in the resolution I have taken, never to see you more, which you are so much surprised at.'
Madam de Cleves read this letter, and read it over again several times, without knowing, at the same time, what she had read; she saw only that the duke de Nemours did not love her as she imagined, and that he loved others who were no less deceived by him than she. What a discovery was this for a person in her condition,
