Do you expect a man to remain the property of the first object that catches him?  To give up the world for it?  Never to look at anything again?  A great idea -- to take pride in false morality, to remain forever faithful, shrouded in one passion, with our eyes dead from youth onward to all those beauties elsewhere.  No, no:  constancy is for corpses.  All lovely women deserve the chance to charm us.  Because one of them was lucky enough to be the first we met, she has no right to rob the rest of their share of love.  I delight in beauty everywhere I find it.  I gladly give in to that delicious violence that drags us in its wake.  I may utter a pledge, but my love for one beauty doesn't pledge me to be unfair to the others.  I keep my eyes open to the fascinations of them all, and confer on each one the most suitable, natural compliments and tributes.  I can't withhold my love from everything I find lovable.  What happens later -- happens.  A beautiful face has only to ask for my heart.  If I had ten thousand hearts, I'd give them all.  There is something indescribable and thrilling in a fresh affair.  The entire pleasure of love lies in how it changes.  We gradually win over the heart of a young beauty.  We see ourselves advancing day by day as we attack her with our adulation and raptures, our tears and sighs pitted against the innocent modesty of an untested soul.  We press forward against her petty rebuffs and overcome the scruples she feels she must respect.  And at last we gently lead her where we want her to arrive.  What a sweet accomplishment!  But once we've mastered her, what's left to wish for?  Passion is over.  Beauty has turned stale.  We lull ourselves to sleep unless some new object awakens our desires and holds out the challenge of a fresh conquest.  In the end, nothing is more exhilarating than wearing down the resistance of a beautiful woman.  In this respect I'm like those empire-builders who flit from victory to victory:  the only thing they can't conquer is their ambition.  I allow no obstacle to stand in the way of my explosive desires.  I have a heart large enough to yearn for the whole earth, and like Alexander, I could wish for other worlds to conquer, but with love.