One evening, as Monsieur and Madam de Cleves were at the Queen's

apartment, it was said there was a report that the King would name

another great lord to wait on Madame into Spain. Monsieur de Cleves

had his eye fixed on his wife, when it was further said, the Chevalier

de Guise, or the Mareschal de St. Andre, was the person; he observed

she was not at all moved at either of those names, nor the discourse of

their going along with her; this made him believe, it was not either of

them whose presence she feared. In order to clear up his suspicions,

he went into the Queen's closet, where the King then was, and after

having stayed there some time came back to his wife, and whispered her,

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that he had just heard the Duke de Nemours was the person designed to

go along with them to Spain.

The name of the Duke de Nemours, and the thought of being exposed to

see him every day, during a very long journey, in her husband's

presence, so affected Madam de Cleves, that she could not conceal her

trouble: and being willing to give other reasons for it, "No choice,"

says she, "could have been made more disagreeable for you; he will

share all honours with you, and I think you ought to endeavour to get

some other chosen." "It is not honour, Madam," replied Monsieur de

Cleves, "that makes you apprehensive of the Duke de Nemours's going

with me, the uneasiness you are in proceeds from another cause; and

from this uneasiness of yours I learn, that which I should have

discovered in another woman, by the joy she would have expressed on

such an occasion; but be not afraid; what I have told you is not true,

it was an invention of mine to assure myself of a thing which I already

believed but too much." Having said this, he went out, being unwilling to increase, by his

presence, the concern he saw his wife in.

The Duke de Nemours came in that instant, and presently observed Madam

de Cleves's condition; he came up to her, and told her softly, he had

that respect for her, he durst not ask what it was made her more

pensive than usual. The voice of the Duke de Nemours brought her to

herself again, and looking at him, without having heard what he had

said to her, full of her own thoughts, and afraid lest her husband

should see him with her, "For God's sake," says she, "leave me to

myself in quiet." "Alas, Madam," answered he, "I disturb you too

little; what is it you can complain of? I dare not speak to you, I

dare not look upon you, I tremble whenever I approach you. How have I

drawn upon myself what you have said to me, and why do you show me that

I am in part the cause of the trouble I see you in?" Madam de Cleves

was very sorry to have given the Duke an opportunity of explaining

himself more clearly than ever he had done before; she left him without

making any answer, and went home with her mind more agitated than ever.




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