as time to think of our departure, and M. de Bernis
undertook all the complimentary part. Thanking M---- M---- for the most
agreeable supper he had ever made in his life, he contrived to make her
offer a repetition of it for two days afterwards, and he asked me, for
the sake of appearance, whether I should not find as much delight in that
second meeting as himself. Could he have any doubt of my answering
affirmatively? I believe not, for I had placed myself under the necessity
of being compliant. All being agreed, we parted company.

The next day, when I thought of that exemplary supper, I had no
difficulty in guessing what the ultimate result would be. The ambassador
owed his great fortune entirely to the fair sex, because he possessed to
the highest degree the art of coddling love; and as his nature was
eminently voluptuous he found his advantage in it, because he knew how to
call desires into existence, and this procured him enjoyments worthy of
his delicate taste. I saw that he was deeply in love with C---- C----, and
I was far from supposing him the man to be satisfied with looking at her
lovely eyes. He certainly had some plan arranged, and M---- M----, in
spite of all her honesty, was the prime manager of it. I knew that she
would carry it on with such delicate skill that I should not see any
evidence of it. Although I did not feel disposed to shew more compliance
than was strictly just, I foresaw that in the end I should be the dupe,
and my poor C---- C---- the victim, of a cunningly-contrived trick. I could
not make up my mind either to consent with a good grace, or to throw
obstacles in the way, and, believing my dear little wife incapable of
abandoning herself to anything likely to displease me, I allowed myself
to be taken off my guard, and to rely upon the difficulty of seducing
her. Stupid calculation! Self-love and shamefacedness prevented me from
using my common sense. At all events, that intrigue kept me in a state of
fever because I was afraid of its consequences, and yet curiosity
mastered me to such an extent that I was longing for the result. I knew
very well that a second edition of the supper did not imply that the same
play would be performed a second time, and I foresaw that the changes
would be strongly marked. But I thought myself bound in honour not to
retract. I could not lead the intrigue, but I believed myself
sufficiently skilful to baffle all their manoeuvrings.

After all those consider