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LETTER ONE
"Cecile Volanges to Sophie Carnay at the Ursuline convent of..."
As you see, my dear Sophie, I am as good as my word, and not spending all my time on frills and furbelows; I shall always have time for you. All the same, I have seen more finery in one single day than in the whole of the four years we spent together; and I do believe the high-and-mighty Tanville will be more humiliated at my first visit to the convent—for I shall be sure to ask for her—than she doubtless supposed we were by all those visits she used to pay us, "en grande toilette." Mamma asks my opinion about everything; she treats me less like a little schoolgirl than she used to. I have my own maid; I have a room and closet at my disposal, and I am writing this at the prettiest little "secretaire;" I have a key to it and can lock away whatever I wish. Mamma has said that I should go and see her every day when she rises; that I do not need to have my hair dressed until dinner, because we shall always be alone; and that she will tell me each day what time I must join her in the afternoon. The remainder of the time is my own and I have my harp, my drawing and my books, just as I had in the convent; except Mother Perpetue is not there to scold me and if I choose to fritter my time away, that is my affair: but as my Sophie is not there to giggle and chatter with, I may as well keep busy.
It is not yet five o'clock; I am not to see Mamma until seven: there is plenty of time to write, if I only had something to tell! But they have not yet breathed a word. And were it not for all the obvious preparations and all the women who keep coming in to do things for me, I should believe no one had the least notion of marrying me, and that it was simply another piece of our dear Josephine's nonsense. But Mamma has told me so often that a young lady should stay in the convent until she marries that, now she has taken me out, I think Josephine must be right.
A carriage has just pulled up outside the door and Mamma has sent word for me to come to her rooms immediately. Could it be "him?" I am not dressed, my hand is shaking and my heart is thumping. I have asked my maid if she knows who is with my mother. She said: 'It's Monsieur C—, for certain,' and laughed. Oh! I think it must be him! I promise to come back and tell you what happens. That is his name, anyway. I must not keep him waiting. Farewell, for a little while.
Oh, how you'll laugh at your poor Cecile! I was so embarrassed! But you would have fallen into the same trap. When I went in to Mamma's room I saw a gentleman in black standing beside her. I curtsied to him as prettily as I could, and stood there, unable to move. You can imagine how I studied him! 'Madame,' he said to my mother, and with a bow in my direction, 'she is a charming young lady, and I am more than ever sensible of the honour you have done me.' I was overcome by such a fit of the shakes at this boldness, my knees gave way; I found an armchair and sat down, flushed and taken aback. No sooner had I sat down than suddenly the man was kneeling in front of me. At that point your poor friend Cecile lost her head; as Mamma said, I was absolutely panic-stricken. I got up and gave a loud shriek...just like that day when there was the thunderstorm. Mamma burst out laughing, saying: 'Whatever is the matter with you? Sit down and give Monsieur your foot.' My dear, the gentleman was actually a shoemaker. I cannot tell you how embarrassed I was! Luckily there was no one there except Mamma. I think when I am married I shall not employ that shoemaker any more.
We are very worldly-wise now, don't you think? Goodbye! It's nearly six and my maid says I have to dress. Goodbye, dear Sophie; I love you just as much as if we were still in the convent.
P.S. I don't know by whom to send this letter so I shall wait for Josephine to arrive.
Paris, 3 August 17
LETTER TWO
"The Marquise de Merteuil to the Vicomte de Valmont at the Chateau de—"
Come back, my dear Vicomte, come back! What are you doing, what can you possibly be doing at the house of an old aunt who has already left her whole estate to you? Leave immediately; I need you. I have had a wonderful idea, and I want to entrust you with carrying it out. These few words should be enough; you ought to be more than honoured by my decision and hasten here to receive my orders on your knees. You abuse my kindness, even though you have no further use for it. And when faced with the alternatives of eternal hatred or excessive indulgence, your happiness requires my goodness to prevail. I want to acquaint you closely with my plans: but swear to me as my faithful chevalier you will not engage in any other affair until you have brought this one to a conclusion. It is worthy of a hero: you will serve both love and revenge; and, finally, it will be one more "rouerie" to put in your Memoirs: yes, in your Memoirs, for I want them to be published one day, and I shall take it upon myself to write them. But let us leave that aside and come back to what I have in mind.
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Published by the Penguin Group, Penguin Group (USA)
Inc.
First published in 1782. Published in Penguin Classics
2007
Translation and editorial
material copyright (c) Helen Constantine, 2007