Two nights later. Valmont’s bedroom in the château. It’s empty at the moment, a couple of candles casting a dim glow. Presently, VALMONT appears, with his dark-lantern, escorting CÉCILE into the room. They’re both wearing dressing-gowns. CÉCILE looks around the room a trifle apprehensively.
VALMONT: Much the same as your room, you see; but here, you’ll be able to make as much noise as you like.
(He’s reached the bed and presses down on the mattress.)
And the mattress is a little harder.
CÉCILE: Is that good?
VALMONT: Yes, that’s very good.
(CÉCILE gives a whoop, throws off her dressing-gown and jumps on to the bed. She bounces up and down for a moment, then dives in between the sheets, VALMONT stands, looking down at her.)
CÉCILE: Come on.
(By way of answer, VALMONT stretches out on the bed comfortably, his hands behind his head.)
VALMONT: The first thing you must learn is that there is no necessity whatsoever for haste.
(He reaches out to caress her.)
Now. As with every other science, the first principle is to make sure you call everything by its proper name.
CÉCILE: I don’t see why you have to talk at all.
VALMONT: Without the correct polite vocabulary, how can you indicate what you would like me to do or make me an offer of something I might find agreeable?
CÉCILE: Surely you just say …
VALMONT: You see, if I do my work adequately, I would like to think you’ll be able to surprise Monsieur de Gercourt on your wedding night.
CÉCILE: Would he be pleased?
VALMONT: Well, of course, he’ll merely assume your mama has done her duty and fully briefed you.
(CÉCILE bursts out laughing.)
CÉCILE: Maman couldn’t possibly talk about anything of the sort.
VALMONT: I can’t think why. She was, after all, at one time, one of the most notorious young women in Paris.
CÉCILE: Maman?
VALMONT: Certainly. More noted for her enthusiasm than her ability, if I remember rightly, but none the less renowned. There was a famous occasion, oh, before you were born, this would have been, when she went to stay with the Comtesse de Beaulieu, who tactfully gave her a room between your father’s and that of a Monsieur de Vressac, who was her acknowledged lover at the time. Yet in spite of these careful arrangements, she contrived to spend the night with a third party.
(CÉCILE laughs again.)
CÉCILE: I can’t believe that; it’s just gossip.
VALMONT: No, no, I assure you it’s true.
CÉCILE: How do you know?
VALMONT: This third party was myself.
(CÉCILE’s jaw drops. For a moment she stares at VALMONT, horrified. He returns a bland smile and, all of a sudden, she can’t resist smiling herself. VALMONT turns back the covers.)
Well, we can return to this subject later. During the intervals. You asked me if Monsieur de Gercourt would be pleased with your abilities; and the answer is that even if he isn’t, I don’t believe it would be difficult to find others who would. Education is never a waste.
(He reaches out and puts a hand round her head, drawing her to him.)
Now. I think we might begin with one or two Latin terms.