The Princess of Cleves readily apprehended how far she was concerned in
this discourse; one while she seemed of opinion that she ought not to
suffer such an address; another, she thought she ought not to seem to
understand it, or show she supposed herself meant by it; she thought
she ought to speak, and she thought she ought to be silent; the Duke of
Nemours's discourse equally pleased and offended her; she was convinced
by it of the truth of all the Queen-Dauphin had led her to think; she
found in it somewhat gallant and respectful, but also somewhat bold and
too intelligible; the inclination she had for the Duke gave her an
anxiety which it was not in her power to control; the most obscure
expressions of a man that pleases, move more than the most open
declaration of one we have no liking for; she made no answer; the Duke
de Nemours took notice of her silence, which perhaps would have proved
no ill-presage, if the coming in of the Prince of Cleves had not ended
at once the conversation and the visit.
The Prince was coming to give his wife a further account of Sancerre,
but she was not over curious to learn the sequel of that adventure; she
was so much taken up with what had just passed, that she could hardly
conceal the embarrassment she was in. When she was at liberty to muse
upon it, she plainly saw she was mistaken, when she thought she was
indifferent as to the Duke de Nemours; what he had said to her had made
all the impression he could desire, and had entirely convinced her of
his passion; besides the Duke's actions agreed too well with his words
to leave her the least doubt about it; she no longer flattered herself
that she did not love him; all her care was not to let him discover it,
a task of which she had already experienced the difficulty; she knew
the only way to succeed in it was to avoid seeing him; and as her
mourning gave her an excuse for being more retired than usual, she made
use of that pretence not to go to places where he might see her; she
was full of melancholy; her mother's death was the seeming cause of it,
and no suspicion was had of any other.
The Duke de Nemours, not seeing her any more, fell into desperation and
knowing he should not meet with her in any public assembly, or at any
diversions the Court joined in, he could not prevail upon himself to
appear there, and therefore he pretended a great love for hunting, and
made matches for that sport on the days when the Queens kept their
assemblies; a slight indisposition had served him a good while as an
excuse for staying at home, and declining to go to places where he knew
very well that Madam de Cleves would not be.