The Art of Seduction (7 page)

A woman

never quite feels desired and appreciated

enough. She wants attention, but a man is too often

distracted and unresponsive. The Rake is a great female fantasy
figure
—
when he desires a woman, brief though that moment may be,
he will go to the ends of the earth for her. He may be disloyal, dishonest,
and amoral, but that only adds to his appeal. Unlike the normal, cautious
male, the Rake is delightfully unrestrained, a slave to his love of women.
There is the added lure of his reputation: so many women have suc-
cumbed to him, there has to be a reason. Words are a woman's weak-
ness, and the Rake is a master of seductive language. Stir a

woman's repressed longings by adapting the Rake's

mix of danger and pleasure.

The Ardent Rake

For the court of Louis XIV, the king's last years were gloomy—he was old, and had become both insufferably religious and personally unpleasant. The court was bored and desperate for novelty. So in 1710, the arrival of a fifteen-year-old lad who was both devilishly handsome and charming had a particularly strong effect on the ladies. His name was Fronsac, the future Duke de Richelieu (his granduncle being the infamous Cardinal [
After an accident at sect,
Richelieu). He was impudent and witty. The ladies would play with him
Don Juan finds himself
washed up on a beach,

like a toy, but he would kiss them on the lips in return, his hands wandering
where he is discovered by a
far for an inexperienced boy. When those hands strayed up the skirts of a
young woman.
] • TISBEA: duchess who was not so indulgent, the king was furious, and sent the youth
Wake up, handsomest of
all men, and be yourself

to the Bastille to teach him a lesson. But the ladies who had found him so
again.
• D O N JUAN:
If the
amusing could not endure his absence. Compared to the stiffs in court, here
sea gives me death, you
was someone incredibly bold, his eyes boring into you, his hands quicker
give me life. But the sea
than was safe. Nothing could stop him, his novelty was irresistible. The
really saved me only to be
killed by you. Oh the sea

court ladies pleaded and his stay in the Bastille was cut short.

tosses me from one torment

Several years later, the young Mademoiselle de Valois was walking in a
to the other, for I no sooner
Paris park with her chaperone, an older woman who never left her side. De
pulled myself from the
water than I met this

Valois's father, the Duke d'Orléans, was determined to protect her, his
siren
—y
ourself. Why fill
youngest daughter, from all the court seducers until she could be married
my ears with wax, since
off, so he had attached to her this chaperone, a woman of impeccable
you kill me with your
eyes? I was dying in the

virtue and sourness. In the park, however, de Valois saw a young man who
sea, but from today I shall
gave her a look that set her heart on fire. He walked on by, but the look was
die of love.
• TISBEA:
YOU

intense and clear. It was her chaperone who told her his name: the now in-
have abundant breath for a
man almost drowned. You

famous Duke de Richelieu, blasphemer, seducer, heartbreaker. Someone to
suffered much, but who
avoid at all cost.

knows what suffering you

A few days later, the chaperone took de Valois to a different park, and
are preparing for me? . . .
lo and behold, Richelieu crossed their path again. This time he was in dis-
I found you at my feet all
water, and now you are all

guise, dressed as a beggar, but the look in his eye was unforgettable. Made-
fire. If you burn when you
moiselle de Valois returned his gaze: at last something exciting in her drab
are so wet, what will you
life. Given her father's sternness, no man had dared approach her. And now
do when you're dry again?

You promise a scorching

this notorious courtier was pursuing her, instead of all the other ladies at
flame; I hope to God
court—what a thrill! Soon he was smuggling beautifully written notes to
you're not lying.
• D O N

her expressing his uncontrollable desire for her. She responded timidly, but JUAN:
Dear girl, God
should have drowned me

soon the notes were all she was living for. In one of them he promised to
before I could be charred by
arrange everything if she would spend the night with him; imagining it was
you. Perhaps love was wise
19

20
•
The Art of Seduction

to drench me before I felt

impossible to bring such a thing to pass, she did not mind playing along and
your scalding touch. But

agreeing to his bold proposal.

your fire is such that even

Mademoiselle de Valois had a chambermaid named Angelique, who

in water I burn.
• T I S B E A :

So cold and yet burning?
•

dressed her for bed and slept in an adjoining room. One night as the chapD O N J U A N :
S o much f i r e
erone was knitting, de Valois looked up from the book she was reading to
is in you.
• T I S B E A :
How

see Angelique carrying her mistress's nightclothes to her room, but for some
well you talk!
• D O N

J U A N :
How well you

strange reason Angelique looked back at her and smiled—it was Richelieu,
understand!
• T I S B E A :
I

expertly dressed as the maid! De Valois nearly gasped from fright, but caught
hope to God you're not

herself, realizing the danger she was in: if she said anything her family
lying.

would find out about the notes, and about her part in the whole affair.

—TIRSO DE MOLINA,
THE

PLAYBOY OF SEVILLE,

What could she do? She decided to go to her room and talk the young TRANSLATED BY ADRIENNE M.

duke out of his ridiculously dangerous maneuver. She said good night to her

chaperone, but once she was in her bedroom, the words she had planned

were useless. When she tried to reason with Richelieu, he responded with that look in his eye, and then with his arms around her. She could not yell, but now she was unsure what to do. His impetuous words, his caresses, the
Pleased with my first

danger of it all—her head was whirling, she was lost. What was virtue and
success, I determined to

her prior boredom compared to an evening with the court's most notorious
profit by this happy

reconciliation. I called them

rake? So while the chaperone knitted away, the duke initiated her into the
my dear wives, my faithful

rituals of libertinage.

companions, the two beings

Months later, de Valois's father had reason to suspect that Richelieu had
chosen to make me happy.

broken through his lines of defense. The chaperone was fired, the precau
I sought to turn their
heads, and to rouse in

tions were doubled. D'Orléans did not realize that to Richelieu such mea
them desires the strength of
sures were a challenge, and he lived for challenges. He bought the house
which I knew and which

next door under an assumed name and secretly tunneled a trapdoor through
would drive away any

reflections contrary to my

the wall adjoining the duke's kitchen cupboard. In this cupboard, over the
plans. The skillful man

next few months—until the novelty wore off—de Valois and Richelieu en
who knows how to
joyed endless trysts.
communicate gradually the

heat of love to the senses of

Everyone in Paris knew of Richelieu's exploits, for he made it a point
the most virtuous woman

to publicize them as loudly as possible. Every week a new story would cir
is quite certain of soon
culate through the court. A husband had locked his wife in an upstairs
being absolute master of

her mind and her person;

room at night, worried the duke was after her; to reach her the duke had
you cannot reflect when

crawled in darkness along a thin wooden plank suspended between two
you have lost your head;

upper-floor windows. Two women who lived in the same house, one a

and, moreover, principles of
widow, the other married and quite religious, had discovered to their mu
wisdom, however deeply
engraved they may be on

tual horror that the duke was having an affair with both of them at the
the mind, are effaced in

same time, leaving one in the middle of the night to be with the other.
that moment when the
When they confronted him, the duke, always on the prowl for something
heart yearns only for

pleasure: pleasure alone
novel, and a devilish talker, had neither apologized nor backed down, but
then commands and is
proceeded to talk them into a menage a trois, playing on the wounded
obeyed. The man who has
vanity of each woman, who could not stand the thought of him preferring
had experience of conquests

nearly always succeeds

the other. Year after year, the stories of his remarkable seductions spread.
where he who is only timid

One woman admired his audacity and bravery, another his gallantry in
and in love fails.
. . . • thwarting a husband. Women competed for his attention: if he did not
When I had brought my
want to seduce you, there had to be something wrong with you. To be the
two belles to the state of

abandonment in which I

target of his attentions became a great fantasy. At one point two ladies
The Rake
•
21

fought a pistol duel over the duke, and one of them was seriously
wanted them, I expressed a
wounded. The Duchess d'Orléans, Richelieu's most bitter enemy, once
more eager desire; their
eyes lit up; my caresses

wrote, "If I believed in sorcery I should think that the Duke possessed
were returned; and it was
some supernatural secret, for I have never known a woman to oppose the
plain that their resistance
very least resistance to him."

would not delay for more

than a few moments the

next scene I desired them

In seduction there is often a dilemma: to seduce you need planning and cal-
to play. I proposed that
culation, but if your victim suspects that you have ulterior motives, she will
each should accompany me
grow defensive. Furthermore, if you seem to be in control, you will inspire
in turn into a charming
closet, next to the room in

fear instead of desire. The Ardent Rake solves this dilemma in the most art-
which we were, which I
ful manner. Of course he must calculate and plan—he has to find a way
wanted them to admire.
around the jealous husband, or whatever the obstacle is. It is exhausting
They both remained silent.

•
"You hesitate?" I said to

work. But by nature, the Ardent Rake also has the advantage of an uncon-
them. "I will see which of
trollable libido. When he pursues a woman, he really is aglow with desire;
you is the more attached
the victim senses this and is inflamed, even despite herself. How can she
to me. The one who loves
me the more will be the

imagine that he is a heartless seducer who will abandon her when he so ar-
first to follow the lover she
dently braves all dangers and obstacles to get to her? And even if she is
wishes to convince of her
aware of his rakish past, of his incorrigible amorality, it doesn't matter, be-
affection. . . ." • I knew
cause she also sees his weakness. He cannot control himself; he actually is a
my puritan, and I was well
aware that, after a few

slave to all women. As such he inspires no fear.

Struggles, she gave herself

The Ardent Rake teaches us a simple lesson: intense desire has a dis-
up completely to the
tracting power on a woman, just as the Siren's physical presence does on a
present moment. 'This one
appeared to be as agreeable

man. A woman is often defensive and can sense insincerity or calculation.
to her as the others we had
But if she feels consumed by your attentions, and is confident you will do
previously spent together;
anything for her, she will notice nothing else about you, or will find a way
she forgot that she was
sharing me
[
with Madame

to forgive your indiscretions. This is the perfect cover for a seducer. The
Renaud
]
.
. . . • [
When
key is to show no hesitation, to abandon all restraint, to let yourself go, to
her turn came
]
Madame
show that you cannot control yourself and are fundamentally weak. Do not
Renaud responded with a
transport that proved her

worry about inspiring mistrust; as long as you are the slave to her charms,
contentment, and she left
she will not think of the aftermath.

the sitting only after having

repeated continually:

"What a man! What a

The Demonic Rake

man! He is astonishing!

How often you could be

happy with him if he were

In the early 1880s, members of Roman high society began to talk of a
only faithful!"
young journalist who had arrived on the scene, a certain Gabriele D'An-—
THE PRIVATE LIFE OF THE

MARSHAL DUKE OF RICHELIEU,

nunzio. This was strange in itself, for Italian royalty had only the deepest TRANSLATED BY F. S. FLINT

contempt for anyone outside their circle, and a newspaper society reporter was almost as low as you could go. Indeed well-born men paid D'Annunzio little attention. He had no money and few connections, coming from a strictly middle-class background. Besides, to them he was downright ugly—short and stocky, with a dark, splotchy complexion and bulging eyes. The men thought him so unappealing they gladly let him mingle with their wives and daughters, certain that their women would be safe with this gargoyle and happy to get this gossip hunter off their hands. No, it was not the men who talked of D'Annunzio; it was their wives.

22
•
The Art of Seduction

His very successes in love,

Introduced to D'Annunzio by their husbands, these duchesses and mar
even more than the
chionesses would find themselves entertaining this strange-looking man,
marvellous voice of this
and when he was alone with them, his manner would suddenly change.
little, bald seducer with a

nose like Punch, swept
Within minutes these ladies would be spellbound. First, he had the most
along in his train a whole
magnificent voice they had ever heard—soft and low, each syllable articu
procession of enamoured
lated, with a flowing rhythm and inflection that was almost musical. One
women, both opulent and
woman compared it to the ringing of church bells in the distance. Others
tormented. D'Annunzio

had successfully revived the
said his voice had a "hypnotic" effect. The words that voice spoke were in
Byronic legend: as he
teresting as well—alliterative phrases, charming locutions, poetic images,
passed by full-breasted
and a way of offering praise that could melt a woman's heart. D'Annunzio
women, standing in his

way as Boldoni would
had mastered the art of flattery. He seemed to know each woman's weak
paint them, strings of
ness: one he would call a goddess of nature, another an incomparable artist
pearls anchoring them to
in the making, another a romantic figure out of a novel. A woman's heart
life
—
princesses and

actresses, great Russian
would flutter as he described the effect she had on him. Everything was
ladies and even middle-
suggestive, hinting at sex or romance. That night she would ponder his
class Bordeaux
words, recalling little in particular that he had said, because he never said
housewives
—t
hey would

offer themselves up to him.
anything concrete, but rather the feeling it had given her. The next day she would receive from him a poem that seemed to have been written spe— P H I L I P P E JULLIAN,
PRINCE OF

AESTHETES: COUNT ROBERT

cifically for her. (In fact he wrote dozens of very similar poems, slightly
DE MONTESQUIEOU
, TRANSLATED

tailoring each one for its intended victim.)