mours; he saw him walk round the garden, as with a design to listen if he could hear any body, and to chuse the most convenient place to enter: the palisades were very high and double, in order to prevent people from coming in, so that it was very difficult for the duke to get over; however he made a shift to do it. He was no sooner in the garden, but he discovered where madam de Cleves was; he saw a great light in the bower, all the windows of it were open; upon this, slipping along by the side of the palisade, he came up close to it, and one may easily judge what were the emotions of his heart at that instant: he took his station behind one of the windows, which served him conveniently to see what madam de Cleves was doing. He saw she was alone; he saw her so inimitably beautiful, that he could scarce govern the transports which that sight gave him. The weather was hot, her head and neck were uncovered, and her hair hung carelessly about her. She lay on a couch with a table before her, on which were several baskets full of ribbands, out of which she chose some; and he observed she chose those colours which he wore at the tournament. He saw her make them up into knots for an Indian cane, which had been his, and which he had given to his sister; madam de Cleves took it from her, without seeming to know it had belonged to the duke. After she had finished her work with the sweetest grace imaginable, the sentiments of her heart shewing themselves in her countenance, she took a wax candle, and came to a great table over against the picture of the siege of Metz, in which was the portrait of the duke de Nemours; she sat down and set herself to look upon that portrait, with an attention and thoughtfulness which love only can give.
It is impossible to express what monsieur de Nemours felt at this moment; to see, at midnight, in the finest place in the world, a lady he adored, to see her without her knowing that he saw her, and to find her wholly taken up with things that related to him, and to the
