smiling, and turned to the duke de Nemours: He was dressed for the evening-assembly, and taking up the discourse with that grace which was natural to him, I believe, madam, says he, I may venture to think you were speaking of me as I came in, that you had a design to ask me something, and that madam de Cleves is against it.—It is true, replied the queen-dauphin, but I shall not be so complaisant to her on this occasion as I was used to be; I would know of you, whether a story I have been told is true, and whether you are not the person who is in love with, and beloved by a lady of the court, who endeavours to conceal her passion from you, and has confessed it to her husband?
The concern and confusion madam de Cleves was in was above all that can be imagined; and if death itself could have drawn her out of this condition, she would have gladly embraced it; but the duke de Nemours was yet more embarrassed, if possible: the discourse of the queen-dauphin, by whom he had reason to believe he was not hated, in the presence of madam de Cleves, who was confided in by her more than anybody of the court, and who confided more in her, threw him into such confusion and extravagance of thought, that it was impossible for him to be master of his countenance: the concern he saw madam de Cleves in through his fault, and the thought of having given her just cause to hate him, so shocked him, he could not speak a word. The queen-dauphin, seeing how thunderstruck she was, Look upon him, look upon him! said she to madam de Cleves, and judge if this adventure be not his own.
In the meantime the duke de Nemours, finding of what importance it was to him to extricate himself out of so dangerous a difficulty, recovered himself from his first surprize, and became at once master of his wit and looks. I acknowledge, madam, said he, it is impossible to be more surprised and concerned than I was at the treachery of the viscount de Chartres, in relating
