he is, it
will be easy for you to justify yourself, and I'll put you into an
infallible way of doing it. As for you, though you should fail in
justifying yourself, it can cost you nothing but a short falling out;
but for my part, this accident affects me in a very different manner, I
shall dishonour a person who has passionately loved me, and is one of
the most deserving women in the world; on the other side, I shall draw
upon myself an implacable hatred that will ruin my fortune, and perhaps
proceed somewhat further." "I do not comprehend what you say," replied
the Duke de Nemours, "but I begin to see that the reports we have had
of your interest in a great Princess are not wholly without ground."
"They are not," replied the Viscount, "but I would to God they were:
you would not see me in the perplexity I am in; but I must relate the
whole affair to you, to convince you how much I have to fear.

"Ever since I came to Court, the Queen has treated me with a great deal
of favour and distinction, and I had grounds to believe that she was
very kindly disposed towards me: there was nothing, however, particular
in all this, and I never presumed to entertain any thoughts of her but
what were full of respect; so far from it, that I was deeply in love
with Madam de Themines; anyone that sees her may easily judge, 'tis
very possible for one to be greatly in love with her, when one is
beloved by her, and so I was. About two years ago, the Court being at
Fontainebleau, I was two or three times in conversation with the Queen,
at hours when there were very few people in her apartment: it appeared
to me, that my turn of wit was agreeable to her, and I observed she
always approved what I said. One day among others she fell into a
discourse concerning confidence. I said there was nobody in whom I
entirely confided, that I found people always repented of having done
so, and that I knew a great many things of which I had never spoke: the
Queen told me, she esteemed me the more for it, that she had not found
in France anyone that could keep a secret, and that this was what had
embarrassed her more than anything else, because it had deprived her of
the pleasure of having a confidant; that nothing was so necessary in
life as to have somebody one could open one's mind to with safety,
especially for people of her rank. Afterwards she frequently resumed
the same discourse, and acquainted me with very particular
circumstances; at last I im