Man in the Iron Mask by Dumas, Alexandre part one

“I admire your subtlety of expression, Mademoiselle,” said Raoul, making an effort to remain calm. “To leave another in ignorance that you are deceiving him is loyal; but to deceive him- it seems that that would be very wrong, and that you would not do it.”

“Monsieur, for a long time I thought that I loved you better than anything else; and so long as I believed in my love for you, I told you that I loved you. At Blois I loved you. The King visited Blois; I believed I loved you still. I could have sworn it on the altar; but a day came when I was undeceived.”

“Well, on that day, Mademoiselle, knowing that I still continued to love you, true loyalty of conduct ought to have obliged you to tell me you had ceased to love me.”

“But on that day, Raoul,- on that day, when I read in the depths of my own heart, when I confessed to myself that you no longer filled my mind entirely, when I saw another future before me than that of being your friend, your life-long companion, your wife,- on that day, Raoul, you were not, alas! any more beside me.”

“But you knew where I was, Mademoiselle; you could have written to me.”

“Raoul, I did not dare to do so. Raoul, I have been weak and cowardly. I knew you so thoroughly- I knew how devotedly you loved me- that I trembled at the bare idea of the sorrow I was going to cause you; and that is so true, Raoul, that at this very moment I am now speaking to you, bending thus before you, my heart crushed in my bosom, my voice full of sighs, my eyes full of tears,- it is so perfectly true, that I have no other defence than my frankness, I have no other sorrow greater than that which I read in your eyes.”

Raoul attempted to smile.

“No,” said the young girl, with a profound conviction, “no, no; you will not do me so foul a wrong as to disguise your feelings before me now! You loved me, you were sure of your affection for me, you did not deceive yourself, you did not lie to your own heart; while I- I-” And pale as death, her arms thrown despairingly above her head, she fell on her knees.

“While you,” said Raoul,- “you told me you loved me, and yet you loved another.”

“Alas, yes!” cried the poor girl,- “alas, yes! I do love another; and that other- oh, for Heaven’s sake, let me say it, Raoul, for it is my only excuse- that other I love better than my own life, better than my own soul even. Forgive my fault or punish my treason, Raoul. I came here in no way to defend myself, but merely to say to you, ‘You know what it is to love!’ Well, I love! I love to that degree that I would give my life, my very soul, to the man I love. If he should ever cease to love me, I shall die of grief and despair, unless God helps me, unless the Lord shows pity upon me. Raoul, I came here to submit myself to your will, whatever it might be,- to die, if it were your wish I should die. Kill me, then, Raoul, if in your heart you believe I deserve death!”

“Take care, Mademoiselle!” said Raoul; “the woman who invites death is one who has nothing but her heart’s blood to offer to her deceived and betrayed lover.”

“You are right,” she said.

Raoul uttered a deep sigh as he exclaimed, “And you love without being able to forget!”

“I love without a wish to forget, without a wish ever to love any one else,” replied La Valliere.

“Very well,” said Raoul. “You have said to me, in fact, all you had to say, all I could possibly wish to know. And now, Mademoiselle, it is I who ask your forgiveness; for it is I who have almost been an obstacle in your life. I, too, have been wrong; for in deceiving myself I helped to deceive you.”

“Oh,” said La Valliere, “I do not ask you so much as that, Raoul!”

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