The Confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau — CompleteRousseau, Jean-Jacques
Philosophy
The Confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau — Complete
Rousseau, Jean-Jacques
Authors, French -- 18th century -- Biography; Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 1712-1778
I was so dull of apprehension, and my confidence in her was so great,
that, notwithstanding the familiar tone of the new-comer, which I
looked on as an effect of the easy disposition of Madam de Warens, which
rendered her free with everyone, I never should have suspected his real
situation had not she herself informed me of it; but she hastened
to make this avowal with a freedom calculated to inflame me with
resentment, could my heart have turned to that point. Speaking of this
connection as quite immaterial with respect to herself, she reproached
me with negligence in the care of the family, and mentioned my frequent
absence, as though she had been in haste to supply my place. “Ah!” said
I, my heart bursting with the most poignant grief, “what do you dare to
inform me of? Is this the reward of an attachment like mine? Have you so
many times preserved my life, for the sole purpose of taking from me
all that could render it desirable? Your infidelity will bring me to the
grave, but you will regret my loss!” She answered with a tranquillity
sufficient to distract me, that I talked like a child; that people did
not die from such slight causes; that our friendship need be no less
sincere, nor we any less intimate, for that her tender attachment to me
could neither diminish nor end but with herself; in a word she gave me
to understand that my happiness need not suffer any decrease from the
good fortune of this new favorite.
Never did the purity, truth and force of my attachment to her appear
more evident; never did I feel the sincerity and honesty of my soul more
forcibly, than at that moment. I threw myself at her feet, embracing
her knees with torrents of tears. “No, madam,” replied I, with the most
violent agitation, “I love you too much to disgrace you thus far,
and too truly to share you; the regret that accompanied the first
acquisition of your favors has continued to increase with my affection.
I cannot preserve them by so violent an augmentation of it. You shall
ever have my adoration: be worthy of it; to me that is more necessary
than all you can bestow. It is to you, O my dearest friend! that I
resign my rights; it is to the union of our hearts that I sacrifice my
pleasure; rather would I perish a thousand times than thus degrade her I
love.”
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