venting me. He therefore made me follow him to a room in the upper part of the house, where he left me in charge of two servants, whom he ordered not to let me out of their sight.
I was in a state of mind bordering upon frenzy. Gladly would I have given my life a thousand times over in exchange for one short quarter of an hour in Paris; but I realized that, after having declared my intentions so openly, I should not readily be permitted to escape from my room.
I looked out of the windows, and calculated their height from the ground. Seeing no possibility of regaining my liberty in that way, I appealed to the two servants in my most persuasive tones, promising—nay, vowing solemnly to make their fortunes some day, if they would connive at my escape. I entreated, I wheedled, I threatened them—but this attempt was as vain as the other. At last, losing all hope, I resolved to die, and threw myself upon the bed with the determination that I would never leave it alive. I spent that night and the following day in this condition. I refused the food that was brought me the next day. My father came to see me in the afternoon. He was good enough to soothe my sufferings by consolations of the gentlest kind. He commanded me so imperatively to take some food that I yielded, out of respect to his orders.
Several days went by, during which I ate nothing save in his presence and in obedience to his wishes. He continued to press upon my consideration every argument calculated to recall me to my senses and to inspire me with contempt for my faithless Manon. I certainly had lost all esteem for her; what esteem could I retain for the most fickle and perfidious of beings? But her image—the fair features which I bore imprinted on my inmost heart
