Les Liaisons Dangereuses (eBook)

MERTEUIL: Well, my dear.

CÉCILE: Yes, Madame.

MERTEUIL: And how are you adapting to the outside world?

CÉCILE: Very well, I think. I’m so excited to have my own bedroom and dressing room.

VOLANGES: I’ve advised her to watch and learn and be quiet except when spoken to. She’s very naturally still prone to confusion. Yesterday she was under the impression my shoemaker had come for dinner.

CÉCILE: It wasn’t that, Maman, it was when he fell to his knees and caught hold of my foot. It startled me.

MERTEUIL: No doubt you thought he was attempting to propose marriage.

CÉCILE: I …

MERTEUIL: Never mind, my dear, you’ll soon get used to it.

VOLANGES: You receive him, do you?

MERTEUIL: Yes. So do you.

VOLANGES: I thought perhaps that under the circumstances …

MERTEUIL: Under what circumstances? I don’t believe I have any grounds for self-reproach …

VOLANGES: On the contrary. As far as I know, you’re virtually unique in that respect.

MERTEUIL: … and, of course, if I had, he would no longer be calling on me.

VOLANGES: Monsieur le Vicomte de Valmont, my child, whom you very probably don’t remember, except that he is conspicuously charming, never opens his mouth without first calculating what damage he can do.

CÉCILE: Then why do you receive him, Maman?

VOLANGES: Everyone receives him. He has a distinguished name, a large fortune and a very pleasant manner. You’ll soon find that society is riddled with such inconsistencies: we’re all aware of them, we all deplore them and in the end we all accommodate to them. Besides which, people are quite rightly afraid to provoke his malice. No one has the slightest respect for him; but everyone is very nice to him.

VALMONT: Madame.

MERTEUIL: Vicomte.

VOLANGES: What a pleasant surprise.

VALMONT: How delightful to see you, Madame.

VOLANGES: You remember my daughter, Cécile.

VALMONT: Well, indeed, but who could have foretold she would flower so gracefully?

MERTEUIL: Oh, I’m not sure we can allow that. Why should you want to leave?

VALMONT: Paris in August, you know: and it’s time I paid a visit on my old aunt, I’ve neglected her disgracefully.

MERTEUIL: I approve of your aunt. She takes such an intelligent interest in the young, she’s been able to maintain a kind of youthfulness of her own. All the same …

VOLANGES: Will you please give Madame de Rosemonde our warmest regards? She’s been good enough to invite us to stay at the château, and I hope perhaps later in the season …

VALMONT: I shall make a point of it, Madame. Please don’t let me interrupt your game.

VOLANGES: I think I may have lost enough for this evening.

VALMONT: Your daughter evidently finds our conversation intriguing.

CÉCILE: Oh, I’m sorry, I …

VOLANGES: I think it’s time we took you home.

CÉCILE: I’m used to being asleep by nine at the convent.

VALMONT: So I should hope.

MERTEUIL: Your aunt?

VALMONT: That’s right.

MERTEUIL: Whatever for? I thought she’d already made arrangements to leave you all her money.

VALMONT: She has. But there are other considerations, family obligations, that kind of thing.

MERTEUIL: Do you know why I summoned you here this evening?

VALMONT: I’d hoped it might be for the pleasure of my company.

MERTEUIL: I need you; to carry out a heroic enterprise. Something for your memoirs.

VALMONT: I don’t know when I shall ever find the time to write my memoirs.

MERTEUIL: Then I’ll write them.

VALMONT: Yes.

MERTEUIL: And went off with that fat mistress of yours, whose name escapes me?

VALMONT: Yes, yes.

MERTEUIL: No one has ever done that to me before. Or to you, I imagine.

VALMONT: I was quite relieved to be rid of her, frankly.

MERTEUIL: No, you weren’t.

VALMONT: Yes.

MERTEUIL: He had a ludicrous theory that blondes were inherently more modest and respectable than any other species of girl and he was also unshakeably prejudiced in favour of convent education. And now he’s found the ideal...