e her up and care for her lot,
And even her beauty defend.
Oh, you lovers, whose sighs I commend,
'Pon my word, hold fast to such game,
What of love Belise hates is only the name.)

But you are grieved by the injurious doubts cast upon your sincerity
and constancy. You are disbelieved because all men are false and
perjured, and because they are inconstant, love is withheld. How
fortunate you are! How little the Countess knows her own heart, if she
expects to persuade you of her indifference in that fashion! Do you
wish me to place a true value on the talk she is giving you? She is
very much affected by the passion you exhibit for her, but the
warnings and sorrows of her friends have convinced her that the
protestations of men are generally false. I do not conceive any
injustice in this, for I, who do not flatter men willingly, am
persuaded that they are usually sincere on such occasions. They become
amorous of a woman, that is they experience the desire of possession.
The enchanting image of that possession bewitches them; they calculate
that the delights connected with it will never end; they do not
imagine that the fire which consumes them can ever weaken or die out;
such a thing seems impossible to them. Hence they swear with the best
faith in the world to love us always; and to cast a doubt upon their
sincerity would be inflicting a mortal injury.

But the poor fellows make more promises than they can keep. They do
not perceive that their heart has not enough energy always to hold the
same object. They cease to love without knowing why. They are good
enough to be scrupulous over their growing coldness. Long after love
has fled they continue to insist that they still love. They exert
themselves to no purpose, and after having tormented themselves as
long as they can bear it, they surrender to dissatisfaction, and
become inconstant with as much good faith as they possessed when they
protested that they would be forever constant. Nothing is simpler and
easier to explain. The fermentation of a budding love, excited in
their heart the charm that seduced them; by and by, the enchantment is
dispelled, and nonchalance follows. With what can they be charged?
They counted upon keeping their vows. Dear me, how many women are too
happy with what is lacking, since men give them a free rein to their
lightness!

However this may be, the Countess has charged up to you the
inconstancy of your equals; she apprehends that you