To sum up; there is more intelligence required to love than is generally supposed, and to be happy in loving.  Up to the moment of the fatal “yes,” or if you prefer, up to the time of her defeat, a woman does not need artifice to hold her lover.  Curiosity excites him, desire sustains him, hope encourages him.  But once he reaches the summit of his desires, it is for the woman to take as much care to retain him, as he exhibited in overcoming her; the desire to keep him should render her fertile in expedients; the heart is similar to a high position, easier to obtain than to keep.  Charms are sufficient to make a man amorous; to render him constant, something more is necessary; skill is required, a little management, a great deal of intelligence, and even a touch of ill humor and fickleness.  Unfortunately, however, as soon as women have yielded they become too tender, too complaisant.  It would be better for the common good, if they were to resist less in the beginning and more afterward.  I maintain that they never can forestall loathing without leaving the heart something to wish for, and the time to consider.

I hear them continually complaining that our indifference is always the fruit of their complaisance for us.  They are ever recalling the time when, goaded by love and sentiment, we spent whole days by their side.  How blind they are!  They do not perceive that it is still in their power to bring us back to an allegiance, the memory of which is so dear.  If they forget what they have already done for us, they will not be tempted to do more; but if they make us forget, then we shall become more exacting.  Let them awaken our hearts by opposing new difficulties, arousing our anxieties, in fine, forcing us to desire new proofs of an inclination, the certainty of which diminishes its value in our estimation.  They will then find less cause of complaint in us, and will be better satisfied with themselves.

Shall I frankly avow it?  Things would indeed change, if women would remember at the right time that their role is always that of the party to be entreated, ours that of him who begs for new favors; that, created to grant, they should never offer.  Reserved, even in an excess of passion, they should guard against surrendering at discretion; the lover should always have something to ask, and consequently, he would be always submissive so as to obtain it.  Favors without limit degrade the most seductive charms, and are, in the end, revolting even to him who exacts them.  Society puts all women on the same level; the handsome and the ugly, after their defeat, are indistinguishable except from their art to maintain their authority; but what commonly happens?  A woman imagines she has nothing further to do than to be affectionate, caressing, sweet, of even temper and faithful.  She is right in one sense, for these qualities should be the foundation of her character; they will not fail to draw esteem; but these qualities, however estimable they may be, if they are not offset by a shade of contrariety, will not fail to extinguish love, and bring on languor and weariness, mortal poisons for the best constituted heart.