LXXVII.
A lover always starts from his mistress to himself; with a husband the
contrary is the case.

LXXVIII.
A lover always has a desire to appear amiable. There is in this
sentiment an element of exaggeration which leads to ridicule; study how
to take advantage of this.

LXXIX.
When a crime has been committed the magistrate who investigates the
case knows [excepting in the case of a released convict who commits
murder in jail] that there are not more than five persons to whom he can
attribute the act. He starts from this premise a series of conjectures.
The husband should reason like the judge; there are only three people in
society whom he can suspect when seeking the lover of his wife.

LXXX.
A lover is never in the wrong.

LXXXI.
The lover of a married woman says to her: "Madame, you have need of
rest. You have to give an example of virtue to your children. You have
sworn to make your husband happy, and although he has some faults--he
has fewer than I have--he is worthy of your esteem. Nevertheless you
have sacrificed everything for me. Do not let a single murmur escape
you; for regret is an offence which I think worthy of a severer
penalty than the law decrees against infidelity. As a reward for
these sacrifices, I will bring you as much pleasure as pain." And the
incredible part about it is, that the lover triumphs. The form which his
speech takes carries it. He says but one phrase: "I love you." A lover
is a herald who proclaims either the merit, the beauty, or the wit of a
woman. What does a husband proclaim?

To sum up all, the love which a married woman inspires, or that which
she gives back, is the least creditable sentiment in the world; in her
it is boundless vanity; in her lover it is selfish egotism. The lover of
a married woman contracts so many obligations, that scarcely three men
in a century are met with who are capable of discharging them. He
ought to dedicate his whole life to his mistress, but he always ends by
deserting her; both parties are aware of this, and, from the beginning
of social life, the one has always been sublime in self-sacrifice, the
other an ingrate. The infatuation of love always rouses the pity of the
judges who pass sentence on it. But where do you find such lov