me, and refuse all other offers. I answered her straightforwardly that I
had no property and no prospects, that I left her free, advising her not
to refuse any offer which might be to her advantage.

In spite of this dismissal C---- C---- did not marry N---- till after my
flight from The Leads, when nobody expected to see me again in Venice. I
did not see her for nineteen years, and then I was grieved to find her a
widow, and poorly off. If I went to Venice now I should not marry her,
for at my age marriage is an absurdity, but I would share with her my
little all, and live with her as with a dear sister.

When I hear women talking about the bad faith and inconstancy of men, and
maintaining that when men make promises of eternal constancy they are
always deceivers, I confess that they are right, and join in their
complaints. Still it cannot be helped, for the promises of lovers are
dictated by the heart, and consequently the lamentations of women only
make me want to laugh. Alas! we love without heeding reason, and cease to
love in the same manner.

About this time I received a letter from the Abbe de Bernis, who wrote
also to M---- M----. He told me that I ought to do my utmost to make our
nun take a reasonable view of things, dwelling on the risks I should run
in carrying her off and bringing her to Paris, where all his influence
would be of no avail to obtain for us that safety so indispensable to
happiness. I saw M---- M----; we shewed each other our letters, she had
some bitter tears, and her grief pierced me to the heart. I still had a
great love for her in spite of my daily infidelities, and when I thought
of those moments in which I had seen her given over to voluptuousness I
could not help pitying her fate as I thought of the days of despair in
store for her. But soon after this an event happened which gave rise to