passion which she concealed from him; this is what was never tasted nor imagined by any other lover.
The duke was so transported and beside himself, that he continued motionless, with his eyes fixed on madam de Cleves, without thinking how precious his time was: when he was a little recovered, he thought it best not to speak to her till she came into the garden; and he imagined he might do it there with more safety, because she would be at a greater distance from her women; but finding she stayed in the bower, he resolved to go in: when he was upon the point of doing it, what was his confusion! How fearful was he of displeasing her, and of changing that countenance, where so much sweetness dwelt, into looks of anger and resentment!
To come to see madam de Cleves without being seen by her, had no impudence in it; but to think of showing himself appeared very unwise; a thousand things now came into his mind which he had not thought of before; it carried in it somewhat extremely bold and extravagant, to surprize in the middle of the night a person to whom he had never yet spoke of his passion: he thought he had no reason to expect she would hear him, but that she would justly resent the danger to which he exposed her by accidents which might rise from this attempt: all his courage left him, and he was several times upon the point of resolving to go back again without shewing himself; yet urged by the desire of speaking to her, and heartened by the hopes which everything he had seen gave him, he advanced some steps; but in such disorder, that a scarf he had on entangled in the window, and made a noise. Madam de Cleves turned about; and whether her fancy was full of him, or that she stood in a place so directly to the light that she might know him, she thought it was he; and without the least hesitation, or turning towards the place where he was, she entered the bower where her women were. On her entering she was in such disorder, that
