Act as if you had made the declaration which is costing you so much anxiety; or imitate the Chevalier; take things easy.  The way the Countess conducts herself with him in your presence seems to be a law in your estimation.  With your circumspection and pretended respect, you present the appearance of a man who meditates an important design, of a man, in a word, who contemplates a wrong step.  Your exterior is disquieting to a woman who knows the consequences of a passion such as yours.  Remember that as long as you let it appear that you are making preparations for an attack, you will find her on the defensive.  Have you ever heard of a skillful general, who intends to surprise a citadel, announce his design to the enemy upon whom the storm is to descend?  In love as in war, does any one ever ask the victor whether he owes his success to force or skill?  He has conquered, he receives the crown, his desires are gratified, he is happy.  Follow his example and you will meet the same fate.  Hide your progress; do not disclose the extent of your designs until it is no longer possible to oppose your success, until the combat is over, and the victory gained before you have declared war.  In a word, imitate those warlike people whose designs are not known except by the ravaged country through which they have passed.

XIX

Why a Lover’s Vows Are Untrustworthy

At last, Marquis, you are listened to dispassionately when you protest your love, and swear by everything lovers hold sacred that you will always love.  Will you believe my predictions another time?  However, you would be better treated if you were more reasonable, so you are told, and limit your sentiments to simple friendship.  The name of lover assumed by you is revolting to the Countess.  You should never quarrel over quality when it is the same under any name, and follow the advice Madame de la Sabliere gives you in the following madrigal: 

  Belise ne veut point d’amant,
  Mais voudrait un ami fidele,
Qui pour elle eut des soins et de l’empressement,
  Et qui meme la trouvat belle. 
  Amants, qui soupirez pour elle,
  Sur ma parole tenez bon,
Belise de l’amour ne hait que le nom.

  (Belise for a lover sighed not,
  But she wanted a faithful friend,
Who would cuddle 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