I had to keep my balance between two points of equal difficulty, and I felt that great care was indispensable.

I had to place the marchioness in such a position that she could pretend to believe the cardinal the author of the stanzas, and, at the same time, compel her to find out that I had written them, and that I was aware of her knowing it.

It was necessary to speak so carefully that not one expression should breathe even the faintest hope on my part, and yet to make my stanzas blaze with the ardent fire of my love under the thin veil of poetry.

As for the cardinal, I knew well enough that the better the stanzas were written, the more disposed he would be to sign them.

All I wanted was clearness, so difficult to obtain in poetry, while a little doubtful darkness would have been accounted sublime by my new Midas.