FROM JULIE

My friend, I feel that every day I become more attached to you; the smallest absence from you is insupportable; and when you are not with me I must needs write you, so that I may occupy myself with you unceasingly.

My mind is troubled with news that my father has just told me.  He is expecting a visit from his old friend, M. de Wolmar; and it is to M. de Wolmar, I suspect, that he designs that I should be married.  I cannot marry without the approval of those who gave me life; and you know what the fury of my father would be if I were to confess my love for you—­for he would assuredly not suffer me to be united to one whom he deems my inferior in that mere worldly rank for which I care nothing.  Yet I cannot marry a man I do not love; and you are the only man I shall ever love.

It pains me that I must not reveal our secret to my dear mother, who esteems you so highly; but would she not reveal it, from a sense of duty, to my father?  It is best that only my inseparable Cousin Claire should know the truth.

FROM CLAIRE TO JULIE

I have bad news for you, my dear cousin.  First of all, your love affair is being gossipped about; secondly, this gossip has indirectly brought your lover into serious danger.

You have met my lord Edouard Bomston, the young English noble who is now staying at Vevay.  Your lover has been on terms of such warm friendship with him ever since they met at Sion some time ago that I could not believe they would ever have quarrelled.  Yet they quarrelled last night, and about you.

During the evening, M. d’Orbe tells me, mylord Edouard drank freely, and began to talk about you.  Your lover was displeased and silent.  Mylord Edouard, angered at his coldness, declared that he was not always cold, and that somebody, who should be nameless, caused him to behave in a very different manner.  Your lover drew his sword instantly; mylord Edouard drew also, but stumbled in his intoxication, and injured his leg.  In spite of M. d’Orbe’s efforts to reconcile them, a meeting was arranged to take place as soon as mylord Edouard’s leg was better.

You must prevent the duel somehow, for mylord Edouard is a dangerous swordsman.  Meanwhile, I am terrified lest the gossip about you should reach your father’s ears.  It would be best to get your lover to go away before any mischief comes to pass.

FROM JULIE TO MYLORD EDOUARD

I am told that you are about to fight the man whom I love—­for it is true that I love him—­and that he will probably die by your hand.  Enjoy in advance, if you can, the pleasure of piercing the bosom of your friend, but be sure that you will not have that of contemplating my despair.  For I swear that I shall not survive by one day the death of him who is to me as my life’s breath.  Thus you will have the glory of slaying with a single stroke two hapless lovers who have never willingly committed a fault towards you, and who have delighted to honour you.