Countess. You will know, at last, that love to be worthy of the name,
and to make us happy, far from being treated as a serious affair,
should be fostered lightly, and above all with gayety. Nothing can
make you understand more clearly the truth of what I am telling you,
than the result of your adventure, for I believe the Countess to be
the last woman in the world to harbor a sorrowful passion. You, with
your high sentiments will give her the blues, mark what I tell you.

My indisposition continues, and I would feel like telling you that I
never go out during the day, but would not that be giving you a
rendezvous? If, however, you should come and give me your opinion of
the "Bajazet" of Racine, you would be very kind. They say that the
Champmesle has surpassed herself.

I have read over this letter, Marquis, and the lecture it contains
puts me out of humor with you. I recognize the fact that truth is a
contagious disease. Judge how much of it goes into love, since you
bestow it even upon those who aim to undeceive you. It is quite
strange, that in order to prove that love should be treated with
levity, it was necessary to assume a serious tone.




IX

Love is a Natural Inclination


So you have taken what I said about love in my last letter as a crime?