But, to repeat; I assume sufficient intelligence in her to be able to control her inclination.  For to hold a lover, it is not enough (perhaps it is too much) to love passionately, she must love with prudence, with restraint, and modesty is, for that reason, the most ingenious virtue refined persons have ever imagined.  To yield to the impetuosity of an inclination; to be annihilated, so to speak, in the object loved, is the method of a woman without discernment.  That is not love, it is a liking for a moment, it is to transform a lover into a spoiled child.  I would have a woman behave with more reserve and economy.  An excess of ardor is not justifiable in my opinion, the heart being always an impetuous charger which must be steadily curbed.  If you do not use your strength with economy, your vivacity will be nothing but a passing transport.  The same indifference you perceive in a lover, after those convulsive emotions, you, yourself, will experience, and soon, both of you will feel the necessity of separating.

To sum up:  There is more intelligence required to love than is generally supposed, and to be happy in loving.  Up to the moment of the fatal “yes” or if you prefer, up to the time of her defeat, a woman does not need artifice to hold her lover.  Curiosity excites him, desire sustains him, hope encourages him.  But once he reaches the summit of his desires, it is for the woman to take as much care to retain him, as he exhibited to overcome her; the desire to keep him should render her fertile in expedients; the heart is similar to a high position, easier to obtain than to keep.  Charms are sufficient to make a man amorous; to render him constant, something more is necessary; skill is required, a little management, a great deal of intelligence, and even a touch of ill humor and inequality.  Unfortunately, however, as soon as women have yielded they become too tender, too complaisant.  It would be better for the common good if they were to resist less in the beginning and more afterward.  I maintain that they never can forestall loathing without leaving the heart something to wish for, and the time to consider.

I hear them continually complaining that our indifference is always the fruit of their complaisance for us.  They are ever recalling the time when, goaded by love and sentiment, we spent whole days by their side.  How blind they are!  They do not perceive that it is still in their power to bring us back to an allegiance, the memory of which is so dear.  If they forget what they have already done for us, they will not be tempted to do more; but if they make us forget, then we shall become more exacting.  Let them awaken our hearts by opposing new difficulties, arouse our anxieties, in fine, force us to desire new proofs of an inclination, the certainty of which diminishes the value in our estimation.  They will then find less cause of complaint in us, and will be better satisfied with themselves.