ng an enemy whose attack it
dares not anticipate. In a word, the courage of a reasonable woman is
nearly always equal to a first effort, but rarely is that effort
lasting. The very excess of its violence is the cause of its
weakening. The soul has only one degree of force, and exhausted by the
constraint that effort cost it, it abandons itself to lassitude. By
and by, the knowledge of its weakness throws it into discouragement. A
woman of that disposition bears the first shock of a redoubtable enemy
with courage, but, the danger better understood, she fears a second
attack. A woman, persuaded that she has done everything possible to
defend herself against an inclination which is urging her on,
satisfied with the combats in which she has been engaged, finally
reaches the opinion that her resistance can not prevail against the
power of love. If she still resist, it is not by her own strength; she
derives no help except from the idea of the intrepidity she at first
displayed to him who attacks, or from the timidity she inspired in
him in the beginning of her resistance. Thus it is, that however
reasonable she may be, she nearly always starts out with a fine
defense, she only needs pride to resolve upon that; but unfortunately,
you divine the means of overcoming her, you persevere in your attacks,
she is not indefatigable, and you have so little delicacy that,
provided you obtain her heart, it is of no consequence to you whether
you have obtained it through your importunities or with her consent.

Besides that, Marquis, the excess of precautions a woman takes against
you, is strong evidence of how much you are feared. If you were an
object of indifference, would a woman take the trouble to avoid you? I
declare to you that she would not honor you by being afraid of you.
But I know how unreasonable lovers are. Always ingenious in tormenting
themselves, the habit of never having but one object in view is so
powerful, that they prefer being pestered with one that is
disagreeable than with none at all.

However, I feel sorry for you. Smitten as you are, your situation can
not fail to be a sad one. The poor Marquis, how badly he is treated!

XXX

When Resistance Is Only a Pretense

I was delighted to learn before my departure for the country, that
your mind was more at rest. I feel free to say, that if the Countess
had persevered in treating you with the same severity, I should have
suspected, not that she was insen