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Alas!
It is said that you imagine, my Lord, that there is no object in the world capable of compensating you for the mistress you have lost. Such a singular stubbornness is worthy of my curiosity.
You may satisfy it, Madame; but beautiful as you are, it seems to me that my fidelity should not appear so singular to you.
If a perfidious man abandoned me out of caprice and inconstancy, I would be piqued by it, I admit; but if some accident separated me from my lover, and he had lost the hope of seeing me again, I would not make it a crime for him to have repaired my loss.
You do not flatter yourself, then, to make a very vivid impression on the hearts you capture? For me, I find it difficult to conceive that one can love someone, when one has been the lover of a person as beautiful as she is estimable; the comparison always does a disservice to the objects that offer themselves to a heart as prejudiced as mine.
But that compliment is not very polite, at least.
That may be, but you must forgive me since it is dictated by honor.
You think so?
Until the moment that takes away my day,
I will never cease to shed tears: