be reproached; but can a husband be so, when one has nothing
to urge, but that he loves one no longer? But admit I could accustom
myself to bear a misfortune of this nature, yet how could I bear that
of imagining I constantly saw Monsieur de Cleves, accusing you of his
death, reproaching me with having loved you, with having married you,
and showing me the difference betwixt his affection and yours? It is
impossible to over-rule such strong reasons as these; I must continue
in the condition I am in, and in the resolution I have taken never to
alter it." "Do you believe you have the power to do it, Madam?" cried
the Duke de Nemours. "Do you think your resolution can hold out
against a man who adores, and who has the happiness to please you? It
is more difficult than you imagine, Madam, to resist a person who
pleases and loves one at the same time; you have done it by an
austerity of virtue, which is almost without example; but that virtue
no longer opposes your inclinations, and I hope you will follow them in
spite of yourself." "I know nothing can be more difficult than what I
undertake," replied Madam de Cleves; "I distrust my strength in the
midst of my reasons; what I think I owe to the memory of Monsieur de
Cleves would be a weak consideration, if not supported by the interest
of my ease and repose; and the reasons of my repose have need to be
supported by those of my duty; but though I distrust myself, I believe
I shall never overcome my scruples, nor do I so much as hope to
overcome the inclination I have for you; that inclination will make me
unhappy, and I will deny myself the sight of you, whatever violence it
is to me: I conjure you, by all the power I have over you, to seek no
occasion of seeing me; I am in a condition which makes that criminal
which might be lawful at another time; decency forbids all commerce
between us." Monsieur de Nemours threw himself at her feet, and gave a
loose to all the violent motions with which he was agitated; he
expressed both by his words and tears the liveliest and most tender
passion that ever heart was touched with; nor was the heart of Madam de
Cleves insensible; she looked upon him with eyes swelled with tears:
"Why was it," cries she, "that I can charge you with Monsieur de
Cleves's death? Why did not my first acquaintance with you begin since
I have been at liberty, or why did not I know you before I was engaged?
Why does fate separate us by such invincible obstac